The Consortium Corporate Headquarters: Alverton Building
Downtown Boston
21st January, 2011A man entered the room, dressed from head-to-toe in black leather, sporting a white mask with an eclipse motif. “Sorry to interrupt, Maxwell, but you’ve got a number of letters marked important. Figured you’d want to see them right away, so I brought them up from reception. “
Taking the two envelopes, Maxwell turned to his guests. “Apologies, this will take only a moment.” His eyebrow raised. “One of these is from Wonderland.”
“I know. Hence the urgency,” he man replied.
Nodding, Maxwell turned to sit at his desk. “Thank you, Nightlight. You may return to your duties.”
Giving a sharp nod, the man turned on his heel and left the room with all the efficiency of a trained killer.
Scanning the letters, the first was a standard invite to the next of Wonderland’s blood sport arenas. He smiled. They always made him so much money.
The second was of much more concern. It was posted from the CDC. From the… new owner of the CDC, by the sound of things. If she could control diseases, it would make her incredibly useful. And dangerous. And she was threatening him.
How cute.
Writing out an official response from the Consortium, he used a typical office ballpoint pen.
Dear ‘Toxic’,
I am unclear exactly what you think we can help you with. The Consortium is a business giant dealing primarily in industrial real estate and stock market trading. All this talk about demons, the void and goddesses is a little superstitious and mythical to be dealt with by us.
All of our employees already have a very generous health package, already, so we do not require whatever it is you purport to be selling.
A word of polite caution: Be careful with who you pick your battles.
Yours sincerely,
Hugo Maxwell
Consortium CEOMaking a mental note to pen a second, personal response to Boston’s newest crazy once his guests leave, he placed the letter in an unsealed envelope on his desk.
“My apologies again,” he said to Tracer and Fodem, “business matters are so dull.”
@Old Amsterdam
Crashing VTOL
Dorchester
21st January, 2011Staggering to her feet, Septima considered using her power on the craft to give them a better place to land.
Although whether they would get one if she did, or find themselves sinking into a lake of lava was roughly 50/50, so she decided against it.
“Don’t worry about cover!” she called out instead. “I can cobble something together. Just focus on landing this thing!”
Giving her a nod, Gestalt took a leaf out of Knight’s book, using the telekinetic component of her power to support her pushing against the craft’s roof. Dividing the weight between them considerably lessened the strain on both capes, and the VTOL began to level out. With the pilot desperately pulling up, he realised he was making the situation worse by trying to keep them in the air.
Switching tack, he instead put the craft into landing mode, beginning to hover closer to the ground. As they reached roughly ten feet above the surface, the other engine gave out under the strain of keeping upright. Suddenly the entire VTOL’s weight came crashing down upon the roof, held in place by the combined efforts of Gestalt and Knight. While the roof itself remained in place, the increased pressure caused the metal to groan and buckle, before splitting apart. The aircraft fell the last ten feet to the ground without any support, throwing the occupants around with the violent movement.
Breathing heavily, Gestalt clutched her head in one hand. “Ow. Ow. OWW,” she cried. “Damn, that hurt. Is everyone good?”
Waving a lazy hand from the floor - having collapsed there again - Septima responded. “As much as you can be, in this situation, I think.” Standing up, she wrapped a hand around the door and wrenched it open, revealing the gangland chaos beyond.
A few of the stupider gang members nearby the craft spun and fired off a few shots in their direction. Septima had expected it, though, and clicked her fingers as soon as the door had clunked open. A wavering orange-red portal opened between her and the outside world, and the bullets disappeared into it.
“Alright. I am
not in the mood for this, you insufferable bloody
idiots!” she screamed, and the portal sprung to life. Wavering a deeper colour and spinning into more of a vortex, several black, shadowy hands burst forth and began scrambling to grab her nearest attackers. As each took hold of their victim, they visibly slowed in movements, quickly becoming overwhelmed with dark appendages. When they were suitably ensnared, the hands retreated back through the portal - with their prey. All they could do was scream.
At least one of the Wonderland mooks realised what was going on. “Not fucking her!” he yelled, sprinting off down a nearby alley.
Turning to Knight, the girl gave her a tired smile. “Just tell me where you need me.”
@Banana@PlatinumSkink
Gladius Border Territory
Dorchester
21st January, 2011Askaryan’s grin was reflected in the extended blades. “Your place, or mine?” He chuckled. “Deal. Although you don’t need to worry about Pipeline,” he said, nodding in his direction. “Looks like he has his hands full already.”
“But jail doesn’t sound fun, and the Birdcage even less,” his face turned serious for the first time today. “So I know a place nearby we can wait this out. A Wonderland safehouse. Help me get there, neither of us dies, is arrested, and i’m guessing you still get paid. Everyone wins.”
“Well, we win. Everyone else here can sort themselves out.”
@Lasrever
Sidestep could hear the voice, but the smoke was far too thick. She sounded young enough to give the parahuman pause. Even if she wanted to attack, right now, she was as good as blind.
“Independant. On Gladius’ payroll. Against my better judgement, but they pay well.” Thinking about what to say next, the sound of conflict below was growing that much more intense. “What about you? Sound far too young to be doing this line of work.”
@Kiddo
It had been some time since Pipeline had felt this sheer amount of pain.
Claws had pierced clean through him. It
should have been a fatal wound, but he lucked out. Two convergent attacks from two separate parahumans - both almost certainly aimed at him - had conspired to keep him alive. The irony was bittersweet.
As he lay of the floor, gasping for breath and bleeding heavily.
A car door had knocked his attacker off balance. A large, metal lance had proceeded to further that effect, just enough. Although, the wound was life-threatening. Getting back to Wonderland would be the hard part. Surviving there would be as simple as finding Planck, but that wouldn’t help him if he bled to death here. The internal bleeding was bad, but that wouldn’t cause problems for about an hour.
It was the external bleeding that was the issue.
With reluctance, Pipeline sprayed pure alcohol onto the wound, front and back. It burned horrifically. At least, he thought it did.
Then he used his lighter to ignite it.
The liquid went up with a single fwoomp, searing the skin with intense heat. His wound buckled as flesh turned black or melted. It was nearly impossible to stop himself screaming, but he settled for a loud hiss through clenched teeth. Bearing it for just long enough to stop the bleeding, he then soaked a rag in his pocket and smothered out the flames, lying on the ground for several more seconds.
During that - everything went to hell.
@DracoLunaris
Two girls stood while a
monster charged towards them.
Crushing anything in its way, and closing the distance rapidly, things didn’t look particularly good. While the action had been well-intended, it may very well be about to result in their sudden and violent death. Every threat capable of going toe-to-toe with the monstrosity had been incapacitated or was otherwise engaged.
From over Holly’s head, five spears flew out of the alley behind her. They were clearly aimed at the charging beast. As they clashed into her skin, the simply peeled off into the air without any effect, instead finding purchase in the ground or walls nearby. One unlucky Gladius goon had his leg impaled by the dark-red projectile.
However, the last one was different.
Instead of clattering off her skin, this one stuck fast. Rather than being a solid object, it was more like a viscous fluid - gloopy, despite retaining its basic form. The more the beast moved, the harder the spear stuck. However, the consistency wasn’t the only strange thing.
It was
beeping.
A single, high-pitched whine split the air immediately around the spear as a small, metal cylinder burst out of the liquid. With a roar, it began sucking in all of the oxygen in the immediate area. Fires snuffed out in an instant. Goons nearby began to choke and splutter. Pieces of debris moved in the direction of the small device. The effect lasted for all of five seconds, but it was enough to take the wind out of the sails of those fighting.
The cylinder retreated back inside the liquid.
And then it exploded.
A violent whirlwind of ice lanced out in all direction from inside the spear itself. Given the proximity of the device to Dragon’s skin, ice bit deep into the metal, exploiting any imperfections in the armour and splitting them open. Pieces fractured off and went flying across the street in all directions, leaving a half-encased monster in the middle.
Some goons had assumed that the two girls were responsible for the raw carnage that had just unfolded and turned their guns in their direction. A shot rung out. Instead of hitting one of them, however, it crashed into a semi-circular shield of bright pink energy which materialised between the girl and the gun at the last second.
From the alley, a burst of light illuminated several figures. One’s hands, eyes and hair glowed that same pink colour, and she had one arm extended in the direction of the two girls. A rather scruffy man stood at her back, not wearing a mask. Leaning on his shoulder was a jester, swinging a cane round and round his finger. And walking past the three others was a man in a long, red jacket. In his hand was a spear, just like the other five that had been thrown.
Breaking it in two, each half melted into liquid before reforming into a sickle-like weapon. “Gubbins, Backdoor, run interference. Vegas, protect the girls.”
“What about you?” the girl asked.
He laughed in response. There was something dark in it, just below the surface.
“I’ve always wanted to hunt a Dragon.”
@Kiddo@knifeman