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Hey, thanks for swinging by, and stuff.

Relevant information is as follows.


Time zone
πŸ„ GMT+1

Preferred RPs
πŸ„ High Casual to Advanced.
πŸ„ Fandom RPs, (mainly Naruto.)
πŸ„ Superhero RPs.
πŸ„ Superhuman RPs.
πŸ„ Mutant RPs.

Contact
πŸ„ PMs.
πŸ„ Discord.

RP Experience
πŸ„ I have been RPing for about 12 years.

Interests
πŸ„ Writing.
πŸ„ Meeting new people.
πŸ„ Making characters.

Personal Shit
πŸ„ Age, (26).
πŸ„ Country, (Sweden).
πŸ„ Gender, (Male).

Most Recent Posts

Azure City, Hidden Quadcell Dungeon
Interactions - Collaberation

​
Cold stone coated an old, forgotten foundation. The sound of dripping water droplets making their way to the now moist, black carpet of rock was one of the few reminders that beyond the cracked ceiling, there was a still inhabited world. Darkness was expelled by the illumination of dim lights, some of which were flickering in the blackness of seemingly endless corridors. An aching pain remained persistent within the poor, artificially created mutant as he woke, restrained to the surface of a cold, unforgiving steel table. Slowly, a pair large, black eyes began to scan the room with fatigued attempts, a blurry sight meeting them. What had struck, that stinging sensation in his neck, it had been a tranquilization dart. Once the situation began to settle, Milo managed a soft, tired breath. He had been captured. "There we are," came a female voice, prompting the restrained boy to shift his attention towards the sound. "Apologies for the rough treatment," she continued. Milo was able to note the scrambling of equipment, as the woman was rowing them onto a metal cart. "The soldiers aren't very civil, I admit." A thick, German accent brought many scenes of countless movies to the forefront, allowing Milo to recall a most stereotypical disposition of crazed scientists. As sight slowly returned, he could make out the blonde haired woman dressed in a white coat, her hands covered in blue latex. Indeed, she checked all the boxes, as one might say. "But sometimes, a rough approach is demanded, I fear." Milo felt cold hands tracing their latex-covered surface across his exposed torso. "You are quite the remarkable specimen. No bellybutton. The MSU has managed something amazing, truly."
​
"I am just a resource," Milo finally offered a response of his own, prompting the woman to raise a brow.
​
"Aren't we all?" She asked, injecting a needle into the boy's vain as he clenched his teeth from the pain. Within moments, a white fluid filled the syringe, "your blood is astounding..," she stated, appearing amazed by the boy's oddly colored sanguine liquid. "You are more than one would be willing to give you credit for, no? Organic, yes, but..," she filled a tube with the boy's blood and corked it. "A doll, filled with stuffing, all the same. It will be fascinating to see what's beneath the skin, don't you agree?"
​
Clenching his teeth, Milo gulped down the fear now climbing his spine. This woman was going to vivisect him.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
​
An immense pounding in his head prompted Maksim to wake. The young boy groaned as one eye opened first, the blurry picture of a cold, hard floor of stone greeting his sight as the other eye opened. Maks sat silently for a few long moments, listening to his surroundings. He could hear himself breathing rather heavy, but besides that all he could make out was the sound of the occasional drop of water hitting a cold stone floor. The young boy didn't realize his hands were tied behind his back until he attempted to sit up.
The young boy felt his shoulder pop, promting him to clench his teeth at the sudden pain. He positioned his legs in front of him, pushing off the ground with his forehead and using his knees to push his body off the ground. The young boy sat up, using a wall directly behind him to lean against as he looked around.
Three sides of him bore rusty, metal bars, and behind him was a cold cobble wall. Looking down at his body, Maks realized all he was wearing were his torn pants and a wet, baggy t-shirt. His jacket and shoes were both gone causing the boy to frown as a shiver ran up his spine.
​
"Hello?" he called out, hearing a slight echo, but no immediate response.
​
Maks clenched his teeth as his head began to pound again. Reality started to set in, and Maks couldn't help the tears that began to run down his cheeks. Where was he? Why was he here? And where was the other boy?
He coudn't fight back the tears that kept coming, so he closed his eyes. Maksim was terrified, and he could feel his powers threatening to take over. Something he was also terrified to let happen.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Feeling a sharp pain in his side, Milo gasped, inhaling a sharp breath, followed by a groan of pain. The doctor had made an insicion. "Remarkable," she mumbled for herself, gazing upon the boy as if he was a spectacle to behold. "Amazing, your body is a gold mine of information..," she placed the scalpel on the metal cart, its razor blade coated in white blood. Needless to say, the torture forced the boy to cry out more than once, his aggressor's curiosity putting him under the mercy of a deranged doctor's knife.
​
Through the pain, Milo considered the countless possible outcomes which could come to pass. Where was the boy he had spoken to before he was brought here. Was he in this forgotten corner of lunacy, as well? Was he being greeted in a similiar manner, where steel connected with flesh? Once the doctor was finished, she slipped out of her blue, rubber gloves, and started towards the door. "I will return, shortly," she explained, leaving her test subject restrained to the surgical table, wounds now crossing his frame with white blood coating pale skin.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
​
Maks sat against the cold stone wall, knees pulled up to his chest and his head resting on those knees, arms still bound behind his back. Should one be close, they would be able to hear the quiet sobs as the boy sat there, lost and desperate for answers.
The near silence of Maks' prison was broken when the sound of a cry echoed through the corridors. As it reached Maksim's ears, the boy's head shot up. Eyes open and filled with tears, he looked around. He took a few stuttered breaths as he stood slowly stood, careful not to lose his balance as he walked up to a door he could make out in the bars. It was locked, as the boy already knew, but he leaned against it, listening again for the cries. Not a few moments went by as he heard more, his ears picking up something familiar about them. It was the other boy. What was happening to him?
​
Maks tried pulling on the bindings around his wrists which kept his arms behind his back, then he tried ramming against the door. After a few tries with Maks right shoulder, it began to ache and the boy knew he wasn't going to get anywhere.
Stepping back, Maks took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He could feel his powers on edge, he could feel the need to lose control. But where would he get if he couldn't control himself?
More tears ran down the boys cheeks as he attempted to tap into that power, He hadn't the slightest clue what he was doing, but Maks had to try.
After a short minute had passed, Maks felt a surge of... something. It ran up his spine and through his bones. Was this it? Or was he just feeling nonsense? Even if it wasn't his powers, he had to try.
​
The young boy pulled on his arms, eyes closed and face showing obvious discomfort as he forced himself past the pain he felt. Suddenly he heard something snap and felt his wrists pull apart from each other. Maks opened his vibrant blue eyes to see his wrists free of the bindings. He smiled a little, wiping the tears from his eyes as he backed up to the stone wall. Suddenly the boy pushed off of it, running as fast as he could and using his left shoulder as he ran into the door. The lock on the rusty door broke and Maks fell to the ground on the other side, catching himself by surprise as after a few moments, he stood up. He wasted no time however, and hurried towards the cries which he could still hear echoing through the corridors.
​
Soon Maksim found himself hiding around a corner, watching as a lady in a long white labcoat entered the hallway. The boy was quick but silent, hurrying over to the door and catching it before it shut. He watched the lady as she strode away, making sure he wasn't caught as he entered the room, allowing the door to close behind him.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
​
Feeling consciousness fading, Milo found himself slipping in and out of the realm he so desperately clung to. Who was going to save him, in here? He had no idea where he was, how long he had been gone and if the MSU knew of his absence. When that doctor returned, she would continue to cut into the boy, exposing what was hidden beneath his skin, her true masterpiece awaiting fruition. As of yet, she had left several incisions on Milo’s body, a small taste of what was to come. If he could, in fact, fade into a world of dreams, the proposition sounded tempting, to say the least.
​
It was ironic, in a way. He was born in a laboratory, and now, he would die in one. Closing his eyes, Milo took a deep breath, the pain from his wounds blending into a haze he could scarcely feel. Rather, he had been robbed of energy, leaving the artificial creation craving an escape in the way of vacancy of consciousness. However, as Milo was willing to let this play out, the blurry image afforded him revealed someone by the doorway, someone small. It was not the doctor, that much was certain, indeed. Without uttering a word, Milo let his head fall back to the metal table, his breathing slow and quiet.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
​
Had Maksim grown through the normal life of a young child, sheltered from the horrors of conflict and the reality of death, seeing the other boy on the table might've caused him to freeze in horror. As it was, Maks hadn't grown up that way. He had seen his fair share of blood, violence, and even gore on the streets of Azure City.
​
He couldn't, however, hold back his feelings of worry for the boy on the table. Maks looked back at the door as he approached the other boy, wary of both the lady should she come back, but also thinking about how he would get out. Maks pulled a short stool from the corner of the room, dragging it over to the table and stepping up on it. He looked over the poor boy strapped to the table, his attention momentarily taken by incisions and the lack of red blood over what seemed to be white blood. This confused Maksim for a moment, but he didn't let it distract him.
Vibrant blue eyes looked to the bindings which held the boy on the table in place. Taking the scalpel from the nearby cart, Maks began to cut the bindings which held Milo's arms and legs.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
​
Feeling the restraints giving way for freedom, Milo opened his eyes, if slowly and tiredly. There he was, the boy from before. The boy from the alley. Attempting to speak, Milo stopped himself, before a cough escaped his lungs. "You are..," the artificial mutant tried, slowly moving aside before small, bare feet met the cold floor beneath. "Thank you..," Milo shifted his focus from who this boy was, his saviour, to what he had done. It did not matter who this child was. No, nothing mattered, at this moment, other than escaping. Stumbling forward, Milo nearly fell over, had he not used the opposite counter as an aid. "She’ll be back, soon..," Replicant forced himself to speak further, despite the very notion bringing pain to his tired, sore body.
​
Wrapping slender fingers around a scalpel, the agent was aware that lethal force was an option he had always forsaken in lieu of better outcomes. However, he had no weapons, and stood in no more than a pair of boxer briefs to cover his privates. Never before had the boy been this exposed to strife. "We need to go..," Milo finished, taking another step before falling his knee, one hand placed on the metal table.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
​
Maks couldn't help but feel nervous as he watched the other boy struggle to stand, or even move. At first, he didn't know what to do to help. This other boy could hardly move, he seemed to be in a lot of pain, but they both needed to get out, quickly.
Taking a lesson from watching the police and other bystanders in Azure City, Maksim cautiously took one of Milo's arms and carefully put it around his neck, using his left shoulder to hold most of the other boy's weight, as his right one was a little tender. Maks then grabbed the boys left hand with his right, noticing that it didn't help as much as intended since Milo was slightly taller than him. Still, Maks needed to help him or else they wouldn't be getting anywhere fast.
​
He wasted no time in leading Milo to the door, blue eyes still blazing as he did his best to prop it open and peek out into the corridor.
​
"I don't know which way...," Maks whispered, trying to indicate he didn't know which way would be the quickest, and which would offer an escape out of their stone prison.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
​
How ironic it was, the consciousness Milo had been granted through the pursuit of scientific discovery. The boy who appeared so scared, so persistent in hiding from all of which brought him into the light, was now helping Replicant through the darkness of a nightmare. The world was, as some would say, a very small locale, where what went around, came around. "You’re doing great..," the agent encouraged, managing a soft smile as he turned to the smaller mutant. It was a genuine expression, indeed, the feeling of comfort washing over him, for but a brief moment, knowing that he was not alone. "We are left guessing." There was no way for either of them to know the layout of their prison.
​
Moving further, the two boys slowly proceeded through the endless darkness lit up by little more than the dim touch of miniscule light bulbs. They would soon come to note the sound of heavy footsteps, as opposed the padding of their own, silent feet. They proceeded to hide wherever they could. If there was an obstacle present, it would act as their defender, obfuscating their slight frames from the sight of patrolling guards. If nothing but endless space appeared before them, the boys would move as quickly as their legs allowed, slipping into rooms where they could hide behind walls. This process eventually landed them in what appeared to be an office, documents strewn across a desk, with several bookshelves rowing the walls.
​
Eyes widened as Milo saw the stamp on a document. Quadcell. This was starting to make sense, now. Reaching for the door, Milo closed it with haste, and stumbled toward the desk. He wasted no time in scrambling for its contents, looking through the slew of papers and notebooks. Amidst the paperwork, in a drawer, the boy noted a Colt M1911 handgun. A convenient development, truly, but considering the nature of this office, Milo had expected there to be a weapon for self defense tucked away.
​
Releasing the magazine from the handle, a dim, blue hue washed over its shape, before Milo slid it back. "My absence will have been noticed. We need to make haste."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
​
As the two boys made their way through the stone prison, Maks had to constantly reassure himself that all was well, when it obviously wasn't. He had made it this far, but every moment that went by he could feel the need to lose control att he back of his mind. Losing control was the only thing that the boy feared outside of their current situation. If he let his powers overtake him, would he end up hurting the boy next to him? Would he even be able to escape this prison without the ability to remind himself of the situation?
So as the two boys made it to the office, Maks let go of Milo and watched as he rummaged through the desk. The young Lycanthrope took this time to calm himself, taking deep breaths and thinking about the things he loved most. The sound the pistol made as Milo slid its magazine back into place brought Maks back into reality. He looked at the weapon, uncertainty written all over his face.
​
As if his mind remembered their situation and the need to keep control knocked the forefront of that, Maks looked away from the weapon and took a few steps to get closer to Milo, offering assistance to get around if the other boy still wished it.
Once that was decided, Maks went back to the office door, reaching up and turning the rusty handle before cautiously looking back out into the corridor.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Azure City, Streets
Interactions - None


In his three months of activity, Milo had yet to add an experience to the face of monsters. He had fought Mutants, several of them, since his inception, but this beast walking towards him with no intention of halting its stride was what one would consider an abomination. Indeed, shape shifters were not a rare breed among mutant kind but this was brought to a new level.

A thick carapace layed its shell of protection upon the creature's flesh, Stun Bullets dissipating upon hitting its surface, with no effect. They did not echo a chaotic result of lethal ammunition, but rather, they would dissipate upon impact, and expel an energy burst which dulled, stunned and paralyzed the affected area.

A nonlethal option, offering the same outcome no matter the distance, which nullified a greater threat range from closer encounters. As would be expected, these bullets had no effect on armor, rendering them a dissatisfactional option against plated opponents.

Milo was a hunter. His job was to neutralize a target and signal extraction. What happened following this scenario usually involved less moral decisions on behalf of the MSU. Milo had no part in that, however, and could not answer questions concerning the treatment of prisoners.

Aiming both guns, Milo pressed his fingers against the triggers, feeling a light recoil slinking through his arm in response. The small, blue bursts lighting up on impact managed nothing, which warranted a new tactical approach.

Distancing himself with another step, Milo made his way over an adjacent car and slid past the front, only moments before a massive pincer tore through metal and glass. He noted the mass of people running from the scene, while others were filming it with phones. The notion of maintaining one's presence in a situation like this was beyond the boy. People were reckless, but were at the very least intelligent enough to retain a distance from the battle.

Amidst disaster, Milo holstered one of his guns. This battle did not require increased firepower, it demanded precision. Replicant placed both hands on the handle of his gun, taking a moment to aim before releasing a shot. Though the car lived through a mere few strikes from this beast, it was enough for Milo to note the creature's joints. There was no armor covering them.

Milo was not a boy of many talents. However, what fell into his repertoire of experience maintained a polished nature. With the Stun Bullet making impact, Replicant heard a screech, pained and infuriated. It had worked.

Another furious strike traced its path towards Milo, the monstrous beast jumping onto what remained of the car. A limb was raised for a renewed attempt at an attack, offering Milo sight of an exposed joint. He fired his gun twice in quick succession, both bullets dulling the creature's body as sluggish movements took hold.

Moments passed, before Replicant heard the sound of a gunshot, a projectile conjuring forth far nosier bursts than Milo's own. The impact tore a minuscule piece of the beast's armor from place, revealing the meat beneath its forehead. Promised assistance had arrived, and it was clear that they had orders. The MSU wanted this monster alive, and with a final shot from his gun, Milo aimed at the section graciously presented by his ally. The Stun Bullet connected with its mark, a final, heavy thud marking the end of the fight as the beast slipped and fell from the car, unconscious. "Target..," he began, feeling pain now seeping into his ribs as adrenaline vacated, "neutralized."


The next post will take place two days after this conclusion.
I am going to make another post and update the event, time skipping two days.
Azure City, Streets
Interactions - None


He had disobeyed a direct order, to bring in and apprehend any POI in the area. The mere notion of this failure brought a stinging sensation to Replicant's stomach, his actions going against orders brought forth by the those who owned him. Those who had created him.

Yet, he could not deny the warm satisfaction trickling through the boy's chest. He had helped someone, where he had been placed in a position of blind obedience or doing what felt right. Yes, Milo could see the cracks in such reasoning. Anything could feel right, this, inherently, did not make it right. However, what could a homeless child possibly add the investigation at hand? Some assignments were drawn to the point of fanaticism, and as far as Milo had been taught, the MSU was tasked to stop people exercising that very ideology.

Halting, Milo noted an incoming call, through the communications device, neatly built into the agent's mask. "Agent M Eleven Zero," came a voice Milo, or in this case M110, knew all too well. It was a commander within the MSU, a less than pleasant woman who dedicated herself to the cause with utmost zeal. Considering the woman's choice of words, she did not consider Milo a being beyond that of which he had been designed for. A resource, and little else. "Hostile located, agent killed. You are the closest available asset. Intercept the target and await backup."

Replicant could clearly see a small map of the area displayed on the screen of his visor. It was a HUD afforded the most expensive MSU equipment, linked to his health and the integrity of his weapons. With a blinking red dot appearing further away, Milo began running in the specified direction, the small blue arrow indicating his own location. They called it Tactical Utility Equipment, or TUE. "Affirmative, Sir." The boy responded, moving like a graceful wind down the street, avoiding obstacles along the way.

Seeing the blood splattered remains of a fellow agent anchored Milo to the spot. The MSU soldier on the ground had been torn to shreds, their limbs severed and tossed aside. Amidst the gruesome scene, Replicant noted a figure dressed in black, their coat obfuscating what laid beneath. "Hm?" A female voice trickled through slender lips, before the woman in black turned her attention to Milo. "You agents keep getting smaller," a faint smirk made its way to her face as she stepped over the corpse so viciously displayed on the ground.

Without giving her the decency of a response, Replicant raised his gun and fired three consecutive shots. However, the woman immediately erupted a chaotic mist from her body, before vanishing. Though unable to tell, Milo would have drawn the conclusion that his attack was nullified by the strange gas-like mist bursting from the woman's form.

Reaching for his remaining pistol, Replicant drew it from the holster, taking a careful step back before a sound slipped through the mist, and into his ears. The echoing noise came from something large, inhuman. It emanated a monstrous cackle, accompanied by raspy, gargled breathing. In fact, if Milo was to compare it, the sound reminded him of an insect.

This was only confirmed, when the boy noted a massive, scything appendage slicing through the mist, nearly decapitating him. Leaning towards his martial training, Replicant quickly rolled aside, dodging the attack before unleashing several, steady shots in the direction of hostility. "Sir," the agent called in, "the enemy is a shape-shifter," he explained, moments before seeing the beast jump out of the mist with a devastating attack.

Had Milo not kept his focus steeled, the thunderous impact would surely have split him in half. Rather, the agent managed a graceful backflip, before the massive, claw-like appendage landed an eventual strike to the boy. It threw him out of the mist, sending him to the concrete before Milo gracefully rolled back to his feet.

"Condition, damaged. Area of impact, chest." A robotic voice explained as Replicant clenched his teeth. That strike had done a number on him, surely. "Recommended procedure, first aid." Though medical assistance was a welcomed addition, Milo needed to maintain his vigilance.

Reloading his pistols, he saw how the creature he had been fighting charged out of the obfuscation and revealed itself fully. "That's a big bug..," Milo breathed, frowning.

Current Equipment
Azure City, Streets
Interactions - @Bea


Compassion, the word which dug itself to the surface once Milo clawed at the recess of his mind. It was a notion he had witnessed through downloaded knowledge, but rarely in the MSU. Compassion, empathy and understanding, all concepts the young creature was growing towards on a more intimate basis. However, when gazing upon this homeless child, he delved into a blank slate of experience to seek knowledge from.

Though the specific strife of hunger never struck at Milo, he understood enough to identify the issue before him. Either this boy was lacking in nourishment, or he had eaten something he shouldn't have. Much like animals, humans sought their next meal with zealous intent, and Milo himself was no different. He required nourishment, like any other biological creature.

Without uttering a word, the agent lowered himself to a knee, decreasing the threat level of his presence in motion with the movement. Whatever was queued to transpire, Milo could not spend too much time in the same location or he would immidatly be found out by the MSU.

Reaching for the ration bar in his pocket, Milo had neglected eating it earlier. The boy had a tendency of spacing out, as one would say, when focused on his most cherished pastime. Drawing.

Gently placing it on the ground, the agent ascended to his feet and took a step back. This scenario had rattled him greatly, but he could not linger or there would be consequences.

Though the desire to remain was abundantly clear, the boy was not in a position to further his act of defiance. His continued curiosity for this entirely new carousel of emotion would sadly go unsated, unless he intended to warrant later consequences.

Moving his head in a somewhat disappointed manner, the agent turned on his heel and made a hasty escape. This would remain on his mind for quite some time. A consistant distraction.

​​Current Equipment
Azure City, Streets
Interactions - @Bea


Neutralize the enemy, provide covering fire, infiltrate a complex, but what, exactly, was this? When faced by this terrified boy, Milo could do little more than delve into the confused state of his mind. He was obligated to ask the POI to accompany him back to base where they would be interviewed, or interrogated, depending on the threshold of morality. If they refused, he was further obligated to convince them, or restrain them with cuffs as necessary. Milo knew the protocol, he knew what needed to be done.

This boy wasn't fighting back, and as was dictated, the young, newly created agent attempted to speak. "I..," Milo tried, his hand still on the pistol which maintained a lowered, disengaged state.Β "You're going to need to..," the boy tried, yet again. On the best of days, Milo was quite horrendous at speaking with others, unlike the original mutant who he had been cloned from. Quite ironic how opposite they were.Β "To..," Milo repeated, seeing that terrifiedΒ expression on the child's face. Indeed, a child, and no older.Β 

Was Replicant going to apprehend a boy, clearly homeless judging from the state of his being to the behavioral pattern of social reclusiveness? For a brief moment, he felt his hand shaking, those slender fingers kept around the handle of his gun. One had to take into consideration the fact that Milo had never interacted with another teenager, before. As ludicrousΒ as the notion appeared, the boy was three months old. Throughout his life, he had been met by doctors, scientists, and other agents, but never a teenager. Equally so, he had never seen an expression like this, complete and utter fear. He was the cause of this fear.Β 

Gulping, Replicant was placed in a position he wasn't prepared for. Nothing was written in the manuals, about this. None of the information downloaded into his brain displayed a handy solution. For an artificial creation, despite being entirely biological, a moral dilemma would naturally halt their progress. Milo was fully aware of feeling emotional bonds, and he could draw the same conclusion as any human. However, the difference was that he wasn't supposed to. For the first time, Milo did not want to follow the procedure. For the first time, he did not want to obey orders. Stiffening at the very notion of this, Replicant placed a hand on his ear, hearing a voice speaking through the comm's device only moments later. "Sir, note my location, the alleys around Burdon Street." HQ was updated on where Milo was, at all times, due to the tracking in his suit.

"Location noted, report." A voice returned, before Replicant paused, his eyes remaining fixed on the boy in front of him.Β 

"I..," the boy spoke, stumbling on the word as he attempted the feat, once more.Β "N-nothing to report, Sir. The alleys are empty."

"Noted, keep looking." The operator finished, letting Milo release a sigh of relief. If he had spoken to anyone more intimately knowledgable on him, they would have noted an immediate change in his approach. The more Replicant considered this situation, the deeper he was digging his hole. He had not even considered who could have been on the other line. If he was caught lying to the MSU, the consequences could be dire. He would have been deemed defective.Β 

Letting his hand fall to his side, Milo holstered the gun, still trying to wrap his head around what he had accomplished, just now. Or rather, the crime he had just committed. He lied to the MSU, to the people who quite frankly owned him. For the first time since his creation, Milo was faced with a moral dilemma, and he made a decision swayed entirely by an emotional response. This was not going to be acceptable.

Current Equipment
Azure City, Streets
Interactions - @Bea


Three months, it was how long Milo had worked for the MSU. It was also the full extent of his life. When asked, Milo had explained that, for him, the world was reminiscent a television. He knew what a cake was, he knew that people tended to enjoy its sweet, sugary taste, but he had never been in the presence of pastries. The boy understood romance, but could not wrap his head around the myriad of emotions trickling down a person's spine when love struck. The creature described experiences downloaded into his brain as having seen them, but never experienced even the most mundane scenario.

Combat, it was what had been taught. Information was streamed into his brain and interlaced with his body when physical practice bridged the two worlds. Denying curiosity would be a lie. Claiming that the taste of a cupcake, a tender moment shared between friends or running his fingers through the warm fur of a cat was uninteresting would paint the boy a teller of lies. However, maintaining thoughts of these experiences, otherwise most natural, was sure to distract Milo from the mission at hand.

He proceeded to move through the alleyways, pistol drawn and at the ready as Replicant featured a vigilant state of mind. Weightless feet brought the boy forward, sounds of chaos echoing in the distance. What could have brought a calamity like this godly punishment to Azure City? Though Milo could not quite empathize on the same level as others, considering his lack of experience, he did consider the consequences of what was transpiring. Orphans, widows and widowers, all of them ready to stand in a line outside the MSU, demanding to know who had killed their loved ones, and why. This chaos, gunpowder and grenade smoke, was merely the start.

Halting in his step, Milo raised his pistol, aiming it straight ahead. The agent had found something. "Halt! MS-..," feeling a chill clawing it's way down Milo's spine, the boy's eyes widened at the sight before him.

In another life, perhaps, an onlooker would be able to point at two boys in an alleyway and claim them friends. In a world much more forgiving. Unable to tear his gaze from the ragged, street worn boy hoping for a haven within the alley, Milo's pistol maintained a steady line of fire, the muzzle expertly aimed at the target.

Blue, enchanting eyes were immediately caught as the main point of interest, Milo's attention shackled to their melancholy gaze. A boy, a teenager or rather, a mere child. Milo had never encountered another who shared his own apparent age, and feeling his heart beating against the boy's slender ribs caused him to clench his teeth.

He felt himself paralyzed, as if shot by his very own bullets, as obligation and emotional turmoil fought within the boy's mind. This felt wrong. It was as if Milo was staring into a mirror, as if his innermost fears and lost nature had been given flesh.

Pausing, attempting to make sense of the situation, the agent was unable to do more than lower the gun, letting it fall haplessly to his side while lightly held between his fingers.

It was his assignment to bring in POIs spotted in a close proximity to Azure Park, but the weight which had laid itself upon his shoulders appeared unbearable. That fear which was staring back at him, and most of all the solitude drenched in an endless void appeared far too familiar.

Current Equipment
Azure Park, Amidst Chaos
Interactions - None


One could almost claim that there was a sense of comfort in the darkness, the void which had claimed Nico as its very own. The boy could not feel his body, his limbs appearing weightless and without autonomy. His senses were dulled, to the point where even the sound of gunshots and panicked screams passed him by without notice. However, despite the overwhelming sensation of fatigue washing over him, there was one notion which proceeded to repeat itself within his mind. Time and time again, a subconscious force from deep inside reminded him, would he ever come to forget. This was his fault. Every single life which had been snuffed out, every drop of blood coating green, summer grass in a color of sanguine was yet another sin placed on his shoulders. AmavellΒ was his mistake, his ghost, and it had come back to haunt him without pause.Β 

With a surrounding world slowly managing its way back to the boy's ears, a soft groan escaped his lips. Through the effort of will, those large, black eyes opened to meet a mass of chaos and smoke, the scent of gunpowder lingering in the air. As Nico attemptedΒ the slightest form of movement, pain echoed throughout his body, the boy's teeth clenching. Forcing himself through the pain, Nico could scarcelyΒ ignore the wound leaking blood which had been granted as a gift by Amavell. However, with that in mind, the boy struggled to his knees, eventually managing to rise and stumbled to his feet.

"Amavell..," Nico spoke in a raspy tone, turning his attention toward the stage. Though she had been present, this was no longer the case. Shifting his attention to the chaos, there was no way for Nico to spot the woman, as she had disappeared amidst the conflict. However, he could clearly see mutants and MSU agents fighting back against the terrorists. Soon, Azure Park would have many of its previous occupants replaced by MSU agents in riot gear, and Nico would be forced to deal with their procedures. Answering questions, being sent to the hospital, making statements. It was a hassle, an inconvenience he felt no need to participate in, mainly because Nico knew full well why this was happening. It was because of him.

Never before had Nico been faced with a revelation such as this. It was becoming abundantly clear that walking away from the life which had brought him purpose was not merely a state of vacancy. It had come back, with a vengeance. Maintaining his presence on both sides of the line between that of a civilian and an avenger was a foolish endeavor. One mistake, one slip up which lead to his identity being revealed would all accumulate it what was unfolding around him.

Feeling his body tensing, Nico could not ignore the countless bodies riddling Azure Park. A mass grave in his honor. Shutting his eyes, the boy was unable to stifle a coat of tears, salty droplets forcing their way through. "Hah, it's fucking Nico!" Came a man's voice, pulling Nico from his slew of deprivation. "It's fucking Nico Devina!" The voice continued, shifting the boy's attention to a black dressed individual armed with a rifle. His face was covered, though his build and voice made the presence clear. "Do we get bonus points for offing celebrities?"

Heavy boots brought another man to the scene, his face exposed to reveal chiseled features complimented by the cigar in his mouth. "He'd fetch a nice price," came a gruff voice as the man blew smoke. "Stop fucking around," he continued, motioning to the boy, "just nab him."

"Right," the younger male returned, clearly beneath his older counterpart in rank and standing.

Narrowing his expression into a frown, Nico was about to act, about to use his abilities despite ruining his cover. However, the boy soon found himself saved by the very people he wished to avoid. The MSU.

More gunshots echoed through the air, the two men plummeting to the ground. Considering the ever continued chaos, this gave Nico the opportunity to slip away, where he proceeded to make his way out of the park with as much haste as he could muster. MSU agents and the police were too preoccupied with the war zone.

Azure City, Streets
Possible interaction - @Bea


Panic on the streets, the MSU was dividing its forces between Azure Park and the surrounding area. Though the boiling pot was clear, some terrorists were making an escape. One would be quite foolish to deny the development. "In position, Sir." A young, quite innocent voice trickled through a most professional suit with the MSU crest visible on a slender arm. Though robotic in its nature due to the tactical mask covering the agent's face, one could clearly make out that this curious individual was far younger than what would otherwise have been acceptable for an MSU combatant. The challenge would boil to the surface, however, when assessing this creature's gender.

The agent's flat chest hinted at a most obvious conclusion, as opposed to the lithe frame noting a distinct lack of visible masculinity. Those who knew him, however, were fully aware of Project M110, and his biological structure.

Christined Milo by the woman who had created him, the boy was an artifical construct of sorts. The perfect clone, some may call it. Taking into consideration his most recurring missions, Milo was not surprised to be placed in a hunter's shoes, where he was tasked to prowl the streets with other agents, seeking escaped terrorists. He was one of the more nimble agents, for sure, grace running through him. However, one of his biggest advantages was his appearance. Foes would consistently underestimate Milo, which worked in his favor.

"Replicant, take the alleyways, we've got the main street." A unit commander instructed, motioning towards the smaller space between large, impressive buildings.

"Wilco," Milo, or Replicant as was his official codename, answered. A short, more effective way of speaking the words 'will comply'. It was ironic, in a way, how fitting Milo's codename was. It hinted at his nature as a clone, as well as his mutant abilities.

The boy's nature as a clone, one might expect, had left many question marks for him. Trying to understand humanity was not always a successful endeavor, despite best efforts. It had accumulated in quite the awkward boy, but one who at the very least followed orders.

With a pistol in hand, Milo slipped through the alleyways like a wisp, scanning the area with haste before moving on. If he was to find an escaped terrorist, it could very well be here.

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@DocRock

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@DarkRecon

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