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Courier 6 and Ratchet

Level 4 - (5/40) EXP (+2), Level 3 - (2/30)
Location: Castle Interior
Word Count: 471


Ratchet observed with a pleased grin as Megadragonbowser attempted to swat the sticky bomb aside, only to get caught up in its explosion. Frankly he was hoping that the big beefcake would take him literally and actually eat it, but this was almost as good. Quickly checking the ammo meter, the bombuilder didn’t have quite enough for another shot just yet, but he reckoned it’d be coming up soon.

Meanwhile a few free hits got in on the brute, only for him to quickly recover and send the big junk looking robot flying in a ball of fire. Not wanting to get in any closer with only just his wrench on hand, Ratchet stayed back from the action. The Courier, however, was happy to receive his brief healing from Blazermate, only to suddenly find a burning robot fling at the two of them! The Courier made to duck out of the way, only to have his dodge made redundant. Tora and the machine girl he had picked up intervened, knocking Deathtrap off course.

”... I totally had that…” he grumbled. Checking back on the evil Bowser (eviler?) just to see if he’d need to be keping up the act, he saw the king pulling back into his shell for another blind spinning assault. Great… Oh shit, the kid! He dashed fast as he could to help get the Hat Kid out of the way, but was too far and too slow: Megadragonbowser’s spinning shell technique was just too fast. But thankfully it had one major weakness which showed itself in spades here.

Thanks to being blinded, the enemy crashed into the pillar and flipped over onto his backside. Those big spikes certainly wouldn’t help matters, so the Courier took the best opportunity he was likely to get. ”My king! I’ll help you!” he cried out, taking off running. As he neared, he summoned the lakelurk beneath his legs, jumping from its shoulders only for it to disappear once again. Up in the air, he grabbed onto the edge of the giant koopa’s shell and flung himself up on MDB’s belly.

Ratchet kept moving about, now hopping side to side to avoid the raining rocks. He kicked off of what was left of the pillar, then kicked off of another large falling rock. Clank reappeared, keeping him hovered in the air as he took aim with the bombuilder and its newly regenerated proximity sticky bomb.

”Help you move on to Hell, that is.” The Courier planted his shotgun as close to the king’s exposed neck as possible and pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession.

”We’ll see how big and mighty you are after this!” Ratchet pulled the trigger, launching the bomb directly for Bowser’s face.
And now that it’s all said and done, time to post up the deaths and injuries.





Behemoth

Introduction


That time that’s been so highly advertised and anticipated has finally arrived. Behemoth. Is. Here. The single largest event of the game, which dominates everything else. I’m hoping to make this event incredibly memorable, full of action, pathos, and long lasting consequences. An incredible, indestructible engine of destruction and death, Behemoth will wreak havoc in Denver and it’s our duty to fend him off. This marks the halfway point of the game’s primary story, and the results will shape how the rest of the story will progress. The most immediately visible impact will be the deaths. Yes, for those of you not yet aware (all two of you), this event will have many deaths involved, both NPC and PC. So without further ado, let’s jump into the various steps in how this event will unfold.

NPC Deaths

Actually, this stage is already done. All NPCs were rolled a 4 sided die in the Discord server. On a 1 or 2, they were safe. On a 3, they will receive severe injuries in the event (potentially career ending ones like missing limbs). On a 4, the character will unquestionably die during Behemoth’s attack. If you’re in the Discord server, you can see the rolls yourself. If you’re not, or just prefer a comprehensive list, then you can refer yourself right here. Over the course of the attack, various updates of mine will include these deaths and injuries.



Step One: Who’s Participating?

The very first thing to do in this event is to determine who exactly is participating. I require a yes or no from every single player in regards to every single one of your characters. No exceptions. You must address every one of your characters, either here or in discord. Every single character that participated against Behemoth adds to how effective we are in fighting him off. Thus, the more who participate, the better condition Denver will be in once it’s all said and done. Of course, participating comes at great personal risk. The character could receive severe injuries, massive emotional trauma, or even death. Of course, you could simply choose to not participate against Behemoth and remain safe, but if the whole city becomes an irradiated wasteland, then what’s the point? Oh, and there’s also Bad Karma Tokens.
Bad Karma Token: So you chose to avoid the risk to save yourself. An understandable choice, but one which leaves a black mark on your record. In an Endbringer attack even the worst of villains come together and help against the worst atrocities. By choosing to save yourself, you give the GMs the right to pull off one bad event on this character, at any point for any reason. It probably won’t be as severe as death, but it can be the deaths of family, friends, loss of limb, or anything else we care to pull out, and we need no justification.

Step 2: Determining # of Deaths

As stated in the last section, the more characters who participate against Behemoth the better off the city will be, and thus the inverse is true. This also applies to character deaths. The more who participate, the fewer player deaths that will occur. The fewer that participate, the more who will die. Once I know exactly how many characters are a go, I will determine how many deaths are needed. This number is a secret and known exclusively to myself only. Which leads into our next section.

Step 3: Volunteer Sacrifices

Once I know exactly how many PC deaths will be involved, it’s time to ask for volunteers. “But propro,” I hear you ask me. “We already volunteered to fight!” Oh little Billy, I know but that’s not what I’m asking for. Since we need deaths, the first of those deaths to occur will be volunteer sacrifices. Basically, of all the characters participating I’ll be calling for volunteers to have their characters killed. Once everyone has volunteered all their sacrifices, I’ll remove that total from the total number of deaths in the event. If we get enough sacrifices to cover the total death count, congratulations! No more deaths will be made. If we go over the total death quota, all characters put up for sacrifice will still die: offering them up is a guarantee and they cannot be saved. However, if we get fewer sacrifices than the total death quota…

Step Four: Killing Characters

Once sacrifices are determined its time to finish the job: deciding who else has to die. All remaining Behemoth participants will be put on a spreadsheet and given a number from 1 through total character count. I will then roll a number of dice equal to the remaining death quota. Whoever it lands on, well, buh-bye! You ded. Now there is an exception to this that can make your character safe, and it’s just that: your character, singular. I will not be killing off anybody if they are your last standing character, or the only one you had, unless you specifically want to face the odds (which you should dictate at the same time you declare character participation and sacrifices). Of course, even if you’re safe from death that doesn’t mean you’re safe…

Step Five: Grievous Injury

Death is not the only possible outcome in an Endbringer attack. While the best statistical outcome in Endbringer attacks is 1 in 4 capes dying, many more receive injuries ranging from the superficial to the “better off dead” variety, and that means even if you don’t die, you can still lose a limb or an eye, or something similar. When I build the spreadsheet of participants, the order will be randomized. Once all deaths are rolled, every character immediately above and below the dead ones will be receiving some manner of terrible injury. (For the purpose of this list, the very top and bottom names are considered to be adjacent). If your character doesn’t die, but both the ones immediately above and below them do, don’t worry, you still only need one severe injury.

Step Six: The Battle Begins!

Finally, all the preparations are complete! Don’t worry little Billy, it wasn’t as long as it looks. This is where we’ll be spending most of our time. Now that we know exactly who shall sink into the inky black abyss and who will be left to pick up the pieces, let’s act it out! At this point I’ll set the stage and then it’s a big free for all. Per usual, capes from all over the world will be showing up to help fend off Behemoth, and mass destruction will be ensuing as the monstrous dynakinetic rampages through Denver. The rule that players cannot act for superpowered NPCs will be temporarily lifted for the duration of this event. Since international capes are showing up en masse feel free to drop in random parahumans to interact with as we fight back. These can be established capes canon to the original story like Legend and Alexandria, NPCs designer for this game like Inkscape and Patriarch, or totally original creations from elsewhere in the country, even to Behemoth himself. Get out as many posts as you want, collabs together, operate pretty much however you want, and I’ll be dropping in GM updates sporadically that kill or injure various NPCs and update the overall situation of the city itself. As for your own characters up for the chopping block, how and when they die or get injured is entirely up to you, so long as it happens before the end of the event (which I will be advertising to you in advance). Remember, everyone has something they can contribute. Even if you can’t fight the monstrous Behemoth directly, there’s civilians to evacuate, search and rescue, mobilization, logistics, so on and so forth.

New Characters

Since so many characters will be dying in this event, either by choice or not, it’s only natural to want new characters to replace them, and that’s more than ok! In fact, it’s encouraged. I know a few of you have already made some replacements in advance. These characters can have triggered during the event itself, or be outside capes that came to help. Not only can they appear to help fight off Behemoth, but they don’t count as “active characters” yet, meaning they won’t be rolled for death and injury.

Q&A

Any questions asked, I’ll edit into this section with answers so everyone can reference all the information back in one place.
The Behemoth Event has officially begun. Feel free to continue posting as normal, but all violence and engagements have officially ended right here and now. Please standby for a longer post detailing how this event will be handled.


The Wards came together in a coordinated assault from multiple directions. Messiah knew it was time to unleash everything she had on him to burn away his excess mass. In the midst of his transformations, Mastar dropped another large load of the black flammable substance from above, giving him a nice coating which caught ablaze. Even Margrave, who lacked the sheer damage output of the others, could still lay claim to assisting as the various tools he tossed grew back to full size and chipped away at small amounts of flesh. The projection came barreling toward Protean, its energy field further intensified, burning flesh up into black smoke all around.

That was the biggest indicator that Protean wasn’t out for the count yet. They haven’t noticed the thin membrane I’ve spread across the whole floor and walls. How I’ve been feeling their presence while otherwise blind. When that projection expanded across the whole hall I thought my plan was done for, but once it shrank and I reconnected with my severed tissues I knew they had no idea what’s in store.

The containment foam grenade landed nearby, signalling its presence to Protean as he felt it strike his membrane of flesh. This was it, then. No turning back now. Do or die. All across the hallway, from the floor to the walls to the ceiling, thousands upon thousands of little bumps grew out of the flesh membrane. Colobopsis cylindrica: the exploding ant. With a cocktail of five different venoms and hardened carapace shrapnel mixed into the explosion…

”I’m not going down alone!” he cried out, the sacks of flesh vibrating with contractions.

This is it. This is… The crucial moment! Director Kens’ eyes intensified, as though he were burning a hole in the wall with his gaze alone. He took hold of the pistol tossed toward him by Tiger Lily, took aim, and fired on Protean… Completely missing the brute’s main body, instead striking the floor near his foot with the experimental foam bullet.

Both the grenade, and the bullet, began expanding in a mass of patented containment foam. Truly a marvelous invention, strong enough to restrict the movement of all but the most dangerous brutes, spread on contact, and yet still porous enough to breathe through. It quickly spread up the turncoat’s legs and waist, expanding ever further up the torso and his nearing his neck line. Protean seemed shocked, as though something was wrong.

”What happened? Why haven’t my b-” And thus the changer-brute was silenced, his entire body encased in the foam. He knew not to try to break free by changing shape, as it would only pop the cells of the foam and cause more expansion. He was truly and utterly beaten. The thousands of bumps coating the walls, ceiling, and floor shrank back down, inert and inactive.

Soft footsteps signalled the arrival of Director Kens, pistol still in hand as he clutched his wound. The bleeding had only gotten worse, and his skin was turning white. ”Good… Job… Wards…” Their boss slumped over onto the floor, the pistol skidding along until it hit the wall, stopping to be just as motionless as the director himself. No doubt about it, the man needed immediate medical attention. Still, he pushed himself far harder than any man his age, or as injured, should.

”Secretary… Community. Shot me… Got her back.” He wheezed, not looking up. ”More important. Patriarch… Confirmed master… Not their fault… Brainwashed.”

The director slipped into unconsciousness.

9:03 a.m.







Bang. Bang. Bang. Bomb after bomb dropped, only to be immediately destroyed safely thanks to Headhunter’s absolutely invaluable power. The Jacks could not have asked for a better answer to the problem at hand, which meant they only had to figure a solution to Doctor Dean himself.

The pattern was simple, predictable, and easy. Tracked and reported by Chatterbox’s loyal fans, Thunderbolt had little trouble in chasing down his target even with his two burdens. Skipping past one bomb to be better prepared for the next opportunity, the chance came exactly as the rest of the pattern suggested it would. A bright white light signalled the opening of a portal, and Thunderbolt was ready for it. Thanks to Whimsy’s power allowing him to interact safely with the portal, the brute’s massive hand reached in and grabbed the villainous tinker by the face, shoving him straight into the ground. The palm attack came with an audible crack as the power armor helmet snapped, and probably some bones as well.

As Thunderbolt reeled back to slam his fist into the murderer, Doctor Dean attempted to press another button located on the palm of his hand, only to be interrupted by another bolt of electricity from Alloy. Once he stopped convulsing, the readout on the inside of his helmet went black: his equipment had finally completely died. He was alone, injured, unarmed, and helpless against the onslaught of the Jacks. A pummeling which he rightly deserved for casually killing hundreds of people just today alone.

For the first few hits, the tinker tried to mount up a defense, to block with his arms, but it proved fruitless. He may as well have been tissue paper fighting back against a tidal wave for all the good that it did. Only two more slugs from the 6’10” goliath and Dean couldn’t muster up even that much strength. He was barely alive, bleeding out within his broken suit, bones splintering, and going into shock. But there was still one trick left up his sleeve.

Defend me from these villains! The mental command echoed through the annals of reality, pulling into possibilities of never-weres and always-there. The command reached a recipient chosen at random, thrusting that one out from where they stood.

A new arrival now stood nearby, in striking distance of Thunderbolt, Whimsy, and Alloy. They held two curved blades, glowing with a neon blue energy, bronze ornate armor, a featureless reflective mask, and red leather costume with matching cape and hood. With one sword they quickly jabbed toward Thunderbolt, only to stop just short of slicing the brute’s neck. They paused for a few seconds before speaking.

”Something is wrong.” His voice sounded perfectly identical to that of Doctor Dean. The man pulled his blade away, looking around at the carnage and destruction, then back to the Jacks. ”I see. Well, I think not.”

He plunged his right blade down into Doctor Dean’s arm, nailing the tinker to the ground. It sliced through his armor and body like air, as though it weren’t even there. The murderer gave a final sputter, then died with a whimper.

”He summoned me to kill you in a last ditch effort to defend himself, but my power informed me of the destruction he has wrought, and I refuse. I cannot offer enough of an apology to you all for the trouble this one has caused.” The newcomer kicked off Doctor Dean’s mask, revealing his true face beneath. He then pulled off his own mask to reveal an identical face, though he wore a scar over his left eye, which appeared to be blind.

”We are both Dean Ryder. Different versions of the same person from different realities. Some Deans carry the ability to summon others to battle for them, but this is a death sentence. Paradox kills us in under a minute, and the power transfers to the last living Dean. I suppose I now possess this unholy ability, as I am now stranded on your earth. I do not know what name this vile creature went by, but you may call me Chivalry.” Chivalry placed his mask back on and reclaimed the sword he left buried in his doppelganger’s arm.

9:03 a.m.




I Own This City

@Spiffy


”Are we all set?” An angry voice inquired of several people running about the television station.

“Very nearly, father,” answered a harried man as he quickly flipped a number of switches.

”Remember that the broadcast needs to be cloned across every local station! No excuses!” he snapped back, the rage boiling just beneath the surface, threatening to lash out at anything that might displease him.

“Of course, sir! Connor is on it right now!” The man went back to his work. “Almost ready. We’ll be on the air in 2 minutes!”

”You have one.”

And so the exchanges went back and forth, until they were fully prepared. The station’s security were posted just outside the doors, allowing the operations within to occur. Media personnel ran about the station making all the adjustments that they could. Nearby two well know, powerful villains, Sonika and Xolotl, oversaw that things were progressing according to the timetable. Finally, it was ready.

“We’re live in five. Four. Three. Two.” The man silently mouthed the word “one” then pointed at the man they were filming. All around cameras lit up. The broadcast had begun.

All across Denver city proper, all the adjoining suburbs, all across Northern Colorado, all television active television screens lit up as a single program interrupted whatever scheduled shows were currently playing. A single man stood on an open set staring directly into the camera. The single most infamous man in the state.

Good morning, Denver. I trust no introductions are necessary, but just in case any of you remain ignorant I’ll indulge anyway. I am Patriarch. According to the public, I am the leader of The Community. While this is true, it minimizes my role to an insulting degree.” Though he spoke calmly, anybody with an ounce of social intelligence could feel the rage brimming within him. ”You’ve all made the mistake of assuming that just because I united all the gangs in Denver that The Community was itself a gang, but you couldn’t be more wrong. It’s all in the name.”




”Wards, there’s been a new development you need to see!” Decoy called out over the communicators. A nearby projector animated Patriarch’s broadcast on the wall.




”The Community is exactly that: the community in which we all live and thrive. This very city. My power maintained a certain status quo. Kept the peace, as it were. But there were you ungrateful heroes who decided that I am not entitled to the luxury of reward for my actions, that I am a villain! And to all those who fly the flag of being a villain, they refuse to see the beauty in my rule and try to usurp me! Ungrateful the lot of you! He slammed his fist into the backdrop wall, which collapsed onto the ground with a shaking rumble, revealing the back set of the tv station… As well as a single individual tied up and unconscious on a gurney.

”This is the worst offender of you brats, an FBI agent by day named Judah Raines. I would say you may know him by his cape name Mantis, but you probably don’t. This hell raiser has made a name for himself among my people for slaughtering them wholesale!”




Miraculously, the tv monitors in the airport were still more or less functional. As the broadcast went on, Chivalry tilted his head at the ravings of the lunatic on screen. ”It seems this world is in need of justice.”




”You have all suspected it for some time now. I’m not certain how the word got out, but it did and I see no reason to deny it. I have a certain influence on people. I make you see things my way, which I’ve used to unite everyone together, but it seems there are those who are desperate to cling to violence and chaos, much like Mantis here. That is why I have showed you all the error of your ways today, shown you where your lack of respect and discipline takes you! Now that you’ve seen the punishment, I am sure you’ll all see things my way, one way or another… Just as Mantis is about to.”




Denver Geological Survey Center


“Are you seeing this batshit crazy talk, Jim?” A black woman in business casual sat at her desk, commenting on the broadcast as she looked over the recent survey records.

“No kidding,” Jim sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. “The streets are a warzone because he’s sending all his crazed flunkies out off the leash, and it’s our fault?”

“I’m just glad nobody has been attacking us here,” the black woman said. Jim nodded, pursing his lips.

“Hey… Hey, are you seeing this?” she called her partner over to inspect the live readouts. “Does this look right to you?”

Jim squinted, taking a closer look. After a moment, his coffee cup hit the floor and shattered, ceramic and hot coffee spilling everywhere. “Marsha, we have to alert the PRT!”

Marsha reeled back. “You mean-”

“Yes, I do!” Jim interrupted, rushing toward the nearest phone.

“Oh god oh god, I… I gotta call my loved ones!” she fumbled with her own cellphone while Jim grabbed the office phone. He dialed the emergency number given to connect directly to Decoy’s system.

“This is Jim Cavanaugh at the Geological Survey Center. We’ve got a big ass problem, and by my calculations less than an hour to get ready for it.”

“This is Marsha Wilkes. You need to get a message to Father right now.”




Thousands upon thousands of eyes were glued to their screens as Patriarch approached Mantis. Meters became feet. Feet became inches. He teased with his hands, reaching closer to Mantis before pulling back like a cat toying with a mouse. Then it happened.

All across the city, sirens went off. Sirens that were built to warn of impending threat, but not just any impending threat.

Behemoth was coming.
I could’ve sworn she was already present?
Interlude 4: Purge


Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink. Repetitions of the bench press went up, then down, then up again with very little delay between the motions. Rapid breathing accompanied the movement. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Speaking of Exhale, a knock came at the door of the gym, which currently housed but one man hard at work. The mafia leader known to the public as “Purge” lifted the weight up one last time, then set it to rest in place. He sat up, wiping the sweat from his brow using a nearby moist towelette with disinfectant.

”Enter,” he said rather plainly, grabbing his nearby water bottle and chugging down the precious liquid.

The door opened with a slow, meek push, revealing another parahuman, one of only two people in the entire organization to have seen Purge without his mask on: Exhale. The gas based villain slowly approached, taking note of the weights. “995 pounds?” he asked, clearly impressed. “If you’re not careful, you’ll be breaking a world record soon.”

”I have no interest in advertising myself,” Purge responded. ”It is merely to maintain as healthy a body as I can.”

“Of course, of course,” Exhale nodded, wringing his hands together. “But I did not invite myself to your recreation room in order to commit to small talk.”

”I imagine you did not.” Purge stood up and began to clean his gear with a fresh wet wipe, disinfecting the entire rig. ”What is your report?”

“Expansion is going smoothly. Better than expected, even. A number of properties were simply abandoned by the Community members stationed there as soon as I showed my pretty face.” Exhale sounded proud of himself.

”Wise course of action. Then have we completely absorbed the district?” He had moved on to sterilizing the barbell itself, and wiping down the weights even though they were never touched at any point.

“There is but one hold out property, admittedly. I’m certain that I could have cleared the whole place in no time, however they requested a parlay with you, and your instructions were very clear on that matter…”

”Very well then,” Purge interjected, standing up straight and approaching the adjoining shower connected to his gym. ”I will depart immediately after I have made myself presentable. Be at the ready to accompany me in case this is a ploy, and let Benito know as well.”

“Shouldn’t he stay here to manage business affairs in your absence?” Exhale tilted his head slightly. He did not like sharing the company of Benito. “And what if we’re attacked while we’re out? His new powers would be instrumental in defending our assets.”

Purged waved off Exhale’s concerns, turning on the hot water of his shower and dropping his workout pants, showing no shame. “The likelihood is low, whereas if we show up to parlay in force, it will further discourage foul play. Apart from that, I trust my men to defend our base. They would not be in my organization otherwise.”

Exhale frowned, feeling defeated but knowing not to argue the point any further. “Understood. I’ll let him know and we’ll… Get the car ready.”

”Thank you, Linas.”




A black Sedan rolled up to the curb of a rather unassuming laundromat in one of the more seedy parts of town in the early morning. Though its posted hours of operation stated that it was supposed to open at 6:00 a.m., the building remained locked with all the lights out. A few figures could be seen inside, but remained motionless. Inside the car were three men, each dressed quite well, and each wearing a mask.

Exhale, of course, wore his standard lab coat and gas mask. It was entirely superficial, but it kept up the act that he was a tinker who made gases, rather than a blaster who made gases from his mouth. Purge sat in the back seat, his black suit and white featureless porcelain mask as normal. Already he was applying a healthy dose of disinfectant to the inside door handle. The third man, the one at the wheel, wore a mask that held a deep night time sky blue on the left side, which gradually faded toward the right until there was only white.

”Exhale, Vanish, let us parlay.” The mafia boss opened his door and got out, followed closely by the other two parahumans.

Exhale reached for the door handle first, but found that it was locked. Squinting his eyes, he saw the people inside but they did not move to let the trio in. With a grumble he knocked, but they still did not move.

”Do not waste your energy, Exhale. If our hosts will not be courteous to us, then we shall let ourselves in. Vanish, if you will please.”

”Consider it done, boss.” The newly named Vanish stepped forward, placing his hand on the door, which completely, well, vanished from sight. With a small flourish he gave a bow, allowing Purge and Exhale to enter first. As soon as he crossed the threshold himself, the door snapped back into place as though it had never been missing to begin with.

“Alright, what’s the big idea not answering when we came, eh?” Exhale angrily asked, taking a threatening step forward.

”Manners,” Vanish chided, causing Exhale to break his stride and slump in frustration. ”You do not speak for the boss.”

Purge casually strolled forward, adjusting his tie. Four individuals stood in the back, shrouded in darkness, still refusing to budge even an inch. How ill mannered these Community folk were. ”I have come as requested for your parlay. We may now begin negotiations. You will find that, so long as matters remain civil, I am a fair and reasonable man to deal with.”

Still no answer. Still no movement. Something wasn’t right here. ”Exhale. Vanish. Prepare yourselves.” Purge placed a hand in his pocket, drawing out a small rock, and casually tossed it to the nearest of the men. The rock bounced off the man’s chest, and he rocked back and forth as though on a pole or a pendulum.

”Mannequins?” Vanish asked, cautiously approaching until he was close enough to confirm his theory.

“Take cover!” Exhale called out. Everyone dove down behind the service counter just as several rounds of automatic fire ripped through the glass walls, signalling assault rifles that had to number at least four.

Purge felt his hair stand on end, he was getting antsy. On the floor… They made him get on the floor! Do you know how many different strains of bacteria are on the floor?! Microbes, pathogens, viruses, insects, threats beyond counting, the enemy converged on every side! This was unacceptable. The pounding of bullets hitting wood, metal, and drywall was as a minor humming compared to the pulsing adrenaline screaming for Purge to escape the germs.

”Exhale.” One word, one name, but it wasn’t an addressment. It was a command, one which Exhale picked up on instantly. Still huddled on the floor, he pulled out a small canister and tossed it over their cover.

“Scatter!” Yelled one of the assailants, the gunfire pausing. A large cloud of dense black smoke quickly spread out from the broken canister and Purge stood up, unable to stay down any longer.

A large wall of black amorphous smoke stood before him, impeding all vision. It was only normal smoke, albeit it highly condensed, and thus not terribly dangerous unless inhaled in large amounts. Of course, the shooters didn’t know that. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for the hardest damn decision he’d have to make that day. Purged willingly walked into the cloud of smoke.

Exhale turned back to Vanish. “Looks like we’re taking all the fun, unless you want black lung disease.” With that, he rushed into the black cloud, readying another canister.

”Please.” The new parahuman followed closely behind, hands outstretched. His hands carved out a safe path for his face, making a tunnel not unlike a vacuum where the smoke simply refused to fill, only to reappear behind him. All three emerged on the other side.

Four armed men, and a fifth nearby apparently calling the shots, had backed up a decent way. As soon as Purged stepped out of the smoke, the enemy leader laughed at him. “You’ve got a death wish just walking out in the open like that! From what I hear you’re faking the cape identity! Fire men!”

Bullets rang out once more, and the sound of metal echoing off metal filled the streets. “What the?!” Purge chuckled in response to the gunman’s surprise. True, it wasn’t every day you saw someone using a whole washing machine as a shield, yet here he was advancing forward with the huge appliance in tow blocking 95% of his body.

“Don’t underestimate the boss,” Exhale spoke with a creepy reverb through his gas mask, canister in hand.

”He doesn’t need to waste his power on the likes of you.” Vanish broke through the smoke barrier, prompting the attackers to train their guns on him and Exhale. If they couldn’t shoot Purge, they would shoot who they could.

The gas master opened another canister before the triggers were pulled, releasing a large condensed green gas, concealing his exact positioning. The bullets that rained down upon Vanish simply disappeared just before impact, only to continue their trajectory once he passed through the space the bullets occupied.

“Gah!” came the cry of pain from the green smoke. Exhale was hit. It didn’t matter too much. The gunmen had chewed through all their ammunition, and Purge was close enough to take advantage.

The Mafia boss rushed in with alarming speed. Before the men knew what to do, he was already upon them. The closest was disarmed in an instant and clubbed with the rifle, knocked unconscious with one blow. The second tried to back up as he fumbled with the magazine, but was simply unable to fight back as a powerful fist struck him in the solar plexus, down for the count.

The third had only just gotten his new magazine loaded and looked up to see a white porcelain face up close and personal in a devastating headbutt. Three for three one hit knock outs, but one thug remained and he already had his rifle trained on Purge.

“Don’t move, or you die where you stand!” He stated firmly. After seeing what his enemy was capable of, he didn’t want to take any chances. Before he could pull the trigger, the man suddenly dropped down into a big hole that wasn’t there before! Vanish sat nearby, hand on the ground.

”Do hurry yourself, Exhale, and sedate the poor man. I cannot reverse my power while he’s still armed inside this hole.”

Exhale limped forward, clutching his left shoulder in pain. Blood seeped outward from the wound, staining his white lab coat. He breathed out a gas which sterilized the injury, then applied a lighter to cauterize it, wincing in pain.

”Sometime today, please.”

“Fuck off, I’m coming.”

Purge opted to ignore the bickering of his two lieutenants in favor of focusing on the fifth and final man. A white fellow with short blond hair and reaching for his handgun, a simple 9mm glock. He trembled, clearly terrified.

“Don’t move, I’ll shoot!”

Oh Peter. Peter Peter Peter.” Purge advanced unflinchingly, shaking his head and pulling off his left glove. ”I am so disappointed. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you? You may have been one of the street men, but you are still part of my family. That’s what the organization is, you know. A family. Why?”

“You don’t know anything about family!” Peter spat back. “Father wants you all dead. He owns this city and you’ve all been fucking with him. He says, he says this is discipline!”

Peter waved the gun threateningly. Purge just grabbed it gently by the barrel and guided it to his own forehead.

“Are you stupid or something?! I’ll shoot, I’m serious!”

“I know you will, Peter. Just like I trained you to. Go ahead. Prove to me which family you truly hold dear.” The mafia leader’s voice did not waver once. There was no nervous tick, no insecurity, no fear, not even a hint of anger. He spoke as though it were another business exchange.

Click. “Huh?” Peter pulled the trigger, the mechanism worked as intended, yet the bullet did not fire.

”What a pity.” Purge snatched the gun from Peter’s hands and popped open the chamber, claiming the bullet and tossing the rest of the gun aside. He held the bullet up for Peter to see.

”I can see you are confused, so please humor me with your attention for but a minute as I explain to you. You see, there are a few basic components to any bullet, all of which must be present to function. There is, of course, the bullet itself, the metal bit on the tip that goes flying into your target. It gets propelled by the gunpowder, which is ignited by the primer when your gun’s firing pin strikes it. I can see you do not understand why I am explaining this to you. The reason, my dear, sweet Peter-“ Purge ran his hand down alongside Peter’s cheek. ”Is because this bullet here? Is missing the vital gunpowder needed to create the explosive propulsion. It is a dud, if you will.”

“But… but how could you know?”

”Simply because I removed it myself. I needed to test your loyalty after all, and you failed.”

Peter squinted, trying to think of when the boss could have emptied the gunpowder from his bullets. He had his pistol on him all day and all night. Furthermore, did Purge already question his loyalty before this very moment? Well, it’s not like any of that truly mattered. Not anymore.

“I suppose you’re going to kill me now,” he muttered, looking at the ground.

”Still such a disappointment. No, not at all. Peter, I’ve already killed you. The same power you doubted ever existed, which I used to destroy your powder, will cause a slow, agonizing death. You’ll be feeling it any moment I should think.”

Peter’s eyes opened wide as realization set in. He felt… wrong. His skin was getting more itchy all over. His stomach, oh the nausea. The sensation was small, but he could feel it growing. What was this?

Purge wiped his hand off with disinfectant, then spoke as simply as a man discussing the weather. ”You made me get on the floor.”
Courier 6 and Ratchet

Level 4 - (3/40) EXP (+3 -2 friend heart), Level 3 - (20/20 -> 0/30)
Location: Castle Interior
Word Count: 863


Ratchet flipped off of the falling cage of Fancy Pants after knocking its hanging chain loose, coming to a landing nearby and skidding on the smooth floor. The rather plain guy, with his very nice fancy pants, looked rather rattled by the experience, but his cage smashed open leaving him free all the same. Just a bit roughed up, is all. The others had had similar results in releasing the big ape wearing a tie, and the bear with the bird in a backpack, which still left the small purple dragon and the kid wearing the cape.

Ratchet couldn’t afford to have tunnel vision at this time though, as it seemed that the Courier had betrayed them all, openly declaring loyalty to the bigger, badder Bowser, and shooting some of them in the process! ”Hey! What’s the big idea?!” he cried out, equipping the Bombbuilder, but before he could get an answer or shoot at the traitor, Zer0 had shot straight through him. Multiple times. Just like back at the bridge. ”I guess I can tell where I’m not needed.”

The lombax shrugged it off, assuming the Courier dealt with, and repeated his previous endeavor to free more allies by hopping up (with a little boost from Clank) to the cage holding the purple dragon, who although injured looked infinitely better prepared for this battle than some child playing superhero. Once up, he went to pry the chain off with his trustee omniwrench yet again.

Meanwhile, the Courier’s gambit had paid off, though sadly not nearly to the degree he had hoped. The bad Bowser appeared to be fooled, as did his allies, yet the false koopa king’s response was less than thrilling, determining that the Courier wouldn’t necessarily be a target, but he also didn’t give a damn if he had crushed him as collateral, a threat he made good on when he pulled into his shell to go into a wild and crazy spin maneuver!

Nearby, Tora was tossed out of the way, while 6 had to rely on his own dodging ability, rolling to the side in hopes of not getting squished. He was successful, though narrowly. The spinning king ran over the tails of his duster, tearing a large chunk of it off the back, though thankfully the large spade design was left unblemished. The Courier could only think of how he’d make this evil Bowser pay for such an unforgivable crime, but while he was tucked away in the shell there was nothing he could do. Yet this provided another opportunity.

While spinning, it stood to reason this Bowser was blind, which meant that the Courier could drop his ruse without being found out, and openly undermine the king’s regime. The best way to do that, considering nothing in his arsenal would be able to harm Bowser inside the shell, was to secure more allies. Of those that had been dropped down so far, he had the choice between an injured gorilla with impeccable fashion sense, a guy with a mohawk and really nice pants, or a walking bear and bird. Since the gorilla was nearest, Donkey Kong was the first to receive the Courier’s friend heart.

“Oof oof,” DK said, his color palette returning to normal, revitalized by the heart.

”No time to explain, just kick that guy’s ass, and if it looks like I’m fighting our team, it’s a lie,” the Courier spoke quickly, as Megadragonbowser emerged from his shell. Damn, that was too fast, he couldn’t secure any more allies. Thankfully, their Bowser kept him occupied for a few moments, utilizing some sort of bizarre… Cartoonish… Stupid… Absurd mechanical boxing hat? That was awesome! 6 idly tapped the brim of his rawhide, half-hoping he could summon mechanical boxing gloves from it, but alas such was never meant to be.

”Look out below!” called Ratchet. Spyro’s cage came crashing down, smashing open for the dragon, another potential ally.

The Courier was already making a run for Blazermate, gun outstretched in a menacing way as he fired another shot, which missed entirely on purpose. He only had 2 shots before a necessary reload. The pair were far enough away from their enemy that he hoped he could talk over the cacophony of battle and not be heard by the titanic turtle-dragon. ”I’m hitting safe spots on purpose to get his trust, the injuries are superficial. Sneak some heals my way as Zer0 hits him through my body, will ya?”

The smaller, friendlier Bowser had been knocked aside by now as the imposing enemy issued a challenge, a threat, to everyone left. Ratchet of course couldn’t let such a challenge go unanswered. There hadn’t been any charge time for his Bombbuilder since the fight on the bridge, but it still had one proximity mine charge left. He carefully took aim from the sidelines and pulled the trigger.

”Eat this!”
Courier 6 and Ratchet

Level 4 - (2/40) EXP, Level 2 - (17/20)
Location: Castle Bridge -> Castle Interior
Word Count: 2108
Ratchet obtains striker Clank! Courier 6 levels up, new Strength Spray N’ Pray! - All friendly fire both to and from Courier 6 only deals 25% damage.
Zer0

Level 3: 14/30
Gaige

Level 1: 3/10
Word Count: 2108
A collab between @propro and [@OldAmsterdam]


Ratchet slowly roused from his unconsciousness, still beat to hell from his own explosion. Once his vision cleared, he saw the back of the Courier walking away from him. What had happened? And what was he holding? Head pounding, the lombax checked his grip only to be horrified by what he saw: the spirit of Clank, his best friend, worrying over Ratchet’s own injuries.

”That’s two you owe me,” the Courier called back without so much as a glance, waving two fingers up in the air. A pang of anger hit Ratchet right in the heart. Not so much at the Courier, who did what he had to do, but at himself. He let himself get caught up in Galeem’s light again because he was so happy to see Clank, and it ended up destroying his best friend. He couldn’t ever let that happen again.

”I’m so sorry, Clank. Can you ever forgive me for being so stupid?” He asked the little orb in earnest. He needn’t wait long for a reply, as the orb manifested as a full form Clank in but a moment.

“Of course I can. It would not be the first time, hmhmhmhmhm.” The little robot smiled as though there weren’t a problem in the world, and Ratchet tackled him in a big hug.

”Oh man, I’m so glad you’re ok little buddy!”

Clank broke the embrace and shook his head matter of factly. “In a manner of speaking. According to my analysis of internal power reservoir, my current form is maintained by the strength of your spirit. I can only be ‘manifested’ for a limited time before returning to your person to recharge.”

”Well, I guess that’s better than nothing.” Ratchet said, picking up his wrench and swinging it around a couple times to make sure it was still well balanced. ”Looks like most of the fun here is about done. I’d say it’s about time we get into that castle to kick some butt!”

“Affirmative!” Clank demanifested as Ratchet took off, stopping by Blazermate for a quick heal first.

Meanwhile, Courier 6 had spotted that Zer0’s bout with the young girl had ended in his victory, and the subsequent friend hearting (was hearting a word? Whatever, it is now) of the former friend turned enemy now turned friend again. That was a lot of turns. Like a turnstile. Heh. Man, drugs were fun. They were the only reason he was approaching the duo without any anger or malice from the last little encounter he had with Zer0. Instead he’d rather focus on something more important.

”This robot right here? Really fucking cool,” he said, shooting Death Trap with finger guns. ”I love this whole multiple world universe crap. I’m getting to explore so much more than I’ve ever thought of before! And so many robots too! I tell ya what, chica, you ever want someone to collaborate on some upgrades, some new systems or guns, you talk to me. I can turn a toaster, an old battery, and some scrap metal into an RC death machine, hehehe.”

Then, for the first time, he focused on Zer0, almost as though the assassin had only just appeared on his radar. Slowly the Courier reached out with a hand and placed it on Zer0’s shoulder, if the man (woman? Robot? Alien? Mutant?) would allow. ”We didn’t really get much of a chance to talk about what happened earlier. I just wanted to say, it won’t happen again. Even if you try it again. Which you might find yourself needing to do in the very near future, if you get my meaning.” Wink. Wink. Wait, he wasn’t winking, he was just blinking. One more time. Wiiiiink. Ok, that was right.

“Oh heck yeah,” Gaige exclaimed, shooting fingerguns right back at the Courier. “Don't know you, but sure! I built DT by hand, well hands at one point but that's besides the fact, and ain't nothing that a little work didn't fix anyways. And it feels so good to punch a Skag in the face, let me tell you Mr. Tall, Dark, and Creepy.”

Zer0 watched impassively as the two talked, not moving except to turn his head to take in the settling battles. At the Courier's words, however, he lifted one hand in a thumbs up sign as he mock-shot at the Merc.

“Well, well, well well well well well well. Zer0 making friends? Next thing you're going to tell me is that Hammerlock wanted dinner.”
”’Friends’ might just be putting things a bit too affectionate,” the Courier started, swaying just a bit as he air quoted the word. ”But we both took on the bigger challenges together, and he called me a… How’d be put it? A badass vault hunter? So I figure he’s part of my posse.”
“That's what we are. Vault Hunters. Badasses. If Zer0 counts you among us, you're a friend. So, yeah, what's the sitch?”
6 looked a little incredulous at that, but shrugged and went with it. ”Long story short the giant light ball in the sky is a powerful monster thing that tore up different worlds and combined them, and brainwashed all of us, now we’re fighting back because fuck that shit. There’s a giant dragon turtle thing in the castle we need to go kill so our smaller dragon turtle thing can take over,” he jabbed a thumb in the general direction of King Bowser, noticing that the Koopa monarch was actually going ahead and entering the castle. ”Aaaand we don’t have time left to finish so fuck it, let’s go wreck some shit.”

His boots hit the trail once again, kicking up dust as he adjusted the radio on his Pip-Boy. An event this big needed some kick ass music, and he was in luck because he just happened to pick up his favorite song on Radio New Vegas.
“OH YEAH, IT'S ROBOT FIGHTING TIME!” Gaige whooped as her, Zer0, and DT took off right behind the Courier. “So, where's this skag-licker?”

The Courier didn’t answer, instead attempting to catch up with Bowser, Tora, Mario and Geno, and all the others who were already making their way into the castle. It was kind of a dumb question anyway, so he didn't want to waste the breath on it. Gaige would see for herself, after all. They all saw for themselves, as they entered in just behind Ratchet, who was in turn just behind the others.

Mushroom headed people ran around in a frenzy of fear and terror, but ultimately were of no consequence. The Courier ignored them (whilst fantasizing about how he could smoke their heads), while Ratchet offered some consultation, only to realize how fruitless an endeavor it was. Nothing was going to change their panic stricken frenzy, so the commando proceeded right behind the rest.

Gaige, meanwhile, walked up to one of the cowering figured and poked at it with idle curiosity. Determining it to be, ultimately, equivalent to a civilian, Gaige followed on. Her eyes and head never stopped moving as she took in everything, an almost manic look building behind her eyes.

Zer0, however, had eyes only for their enemy.

And what an enemy it was. Megadragonbowser sat upon an equally large throne, gloating over his captured enemies hanging in cages. A small dragon, a large ape with a tie, a kid in a cape, and some… Random dude in orange pants? They were all contained behind bars, leaving the apparent king quite pleased. Their allies sprang into action, with Mario and Geno in particular working to free the captives. Ratchet took a similar approach, his inner hero showing.

”Looks like it’s time to up our arsenal, guys!” Wrench in hand, Ratchet ran toward the nearest platform, dodging and flipping around as fire rained from the ceiling above. Touching that would definitely be a bad end to a bad day, but luckily he was acrobatic enough to avoid it, save one close call that singed a part of his fur.

”Hup!” The lombax flipped up and around, gaining as much height as he could, but it still wasn’t enough to reach the cages.

“Allow me to give you a boost,” came the voice of Clank, who manifested for just a few seconds in his propeller pack form, giving Ratchet just what he needed to reach the cage holding Fancy Pants. He went to work prying at the chain with his omniwrench in hopes of freeing the captive.

Gaige had similar thoughts as the Lombax, as she manifested Deathtrap and stood in his outstretched palm as he flew them up towards the cages.

“GIVE HIM HELL, ZER0!” she yelled as they ascended. Stepping forward as she dismounted, she added her efforts to Ratchet's, applying the above-average strength of her mechanical arm to the task. “DT, OPEN THAT CAGE!” she ordered, excitement clear in her voice, and the robot joined in with his own strength.

Meanwhile, the Courier had an altogether different sort of goal in mind. A plan which could be seen as either insane, or brilliant. No doubt it would leave a lot of people pissed at him, but that was nothing new. Wild card is as wild card does. As everyone else sprang into action, either to attack the megadragonbowser or to help save the captives, the Courier strode forward, slowly, toward their enemy. His head was down, his weapons holstered. Absolutely nothing about him appeared to be dangerous or threatening to the would-be-king. This was, of course, by design. Since this Bowser saw through the ruse earlier, and had that powerful aura preventing violence against him, this would be the only way. At least, that’s how the Courier thought. The others? That was to be seen.

”Oh great and mighty king!” the Courier called out, taking a low bow. ”I promised you many things outside this castle. An army, weapons, all of which have turned against you. But one promise remains: a demonstration.”

With a flourish, the Courier stood up in a twist, facing the rest of his comrades, unholstering his revolver in the process. He pointed the gun upward toward Mario, and the plumber’s newly acquired water pack, and let loose a shot from the powerful magnum. The bullet was aimed for Mario’s torso in what would appear to be a debilitating, potentially lethal, shot. By all accounts, Courier Six had gone turncoat, switching sides to what seemed the more powerful team. Another shot rang out, this one aimed for Blazermate’s cranial unit. Then a third shot headed straight for Linkle’s gut!

”Have I proven my loyalty yet, your majesty?” he called out over the gunshots, moving in closer to the winged koopa king. Had he truly turned traitor? From any initial glance, it would have seemed so, but some things just couldn’t be so black and white. Those shots certainly all looked as though they would have been lethal, but the Courier had a special talent. A talent that worked both ways, and now that he was positioned so close to megadragonbowser, he was glad to be a target for his comrades. That aura pushed back against violent intent to the koopa, but not against others.

Zer0 carefully loaded in the 9 remaining bullets of the special sniper ammo he had gotten from that box that one spirit had released. His actions were almost mechanical, careful, as he seemingly ignored everything going on around him.

As the Courier started blasting away at their comrades, Zer0 didn't even blink. Well, not that he could to begin with. He moved exactly five steps to the side, dropping to one knee as if in submission. His sniper was butt down as if it were a blade

;)

In a single fluid movement, Zer0 brought up his gun, zeroing in on the Courier. The mailman filled his scope, and was all Zer0 was focused on.

He pulled the trigger four times, pausing just a fraction of a second after each shot to compensate for the recoil, sending each bullet through the same trajectory. Which, as he had set himself up in positioning, would tear through what should've been a non-lethal section of the Courier's midsection and into a very lethal area of the Mega Bowser's chest.
There wasn't a lot of time to prepare, so Leonard had to work in overdrive to get as much done as he had wanted. Knowing that the Speedwagon Foundation was footing the bill to get into the next show put on by these alleged stand users took some of the edge off, but the group still needed a plan of action. Some way to catch this trio off guard, in case they were more actively malevolent than Bugsy had been. Therein came both his natural skills at penmanship, as well as the power of his stand, Free Bird. Once it was time to gather the crew, he presented Arthur, Blue, and Mieke each with a lanyard that held a notecard size piece of paper inside.

Greetings and salutations this fine eve, my peers," he began. "Do not, under any circumstances, view the writing on this gift I bestow upon you, lest you wish to completely ruin all efforts on my part and fall under the power of my stand, Free Bird."

With the lanyards handed out, face down of course, he proceeded to pocket one of his own before fully explaining himself. "I utilized my skills with the pen in order to fabricate false all access passes regarding the show of our newest targets. At a glance, they should perform admirably. Under additional scrutiny, the power of Free Bird will take root in whomever views these cards. Take heed, each instance of my stand's power works exactly once. Therefore, whomever reads your card shall be the sole recipient of its ability, which in this instance will be to recognize the holder of said card as a figure of authority. That said, the effect of Free Bird's ability is potent, but slow. At first the target might not respect you at all, but I guarantee within a few minutes you will be seen in only the utmost highest esteem."

With that out of the way, Leonard then produced another paper, which he placed in a standard manilla envelope. "I have inscribed similar power into this document, which states Hogan to be a part of the act, fully domesticated, and should have full access to the entire backstage area. Just as the badges I have handed you, this should only be shown if no other alternative is available. The power of my stand is absolute, and my forgery is quite skilled, but a keen eye might still see through the deception if the power has already been used on someone else. Due to how intricate and difficult a task forgery is, I was only able to draw up exactly one for each of us. Therefore I would suggest we do not split up this time, remain in association with one another, and use our cards as a group only as the need arises."
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