silvermist1116

The Gauntlet

Esperanta watched deadlegs retreat to the ceiling to handle its burns. If she had more fire she’d follow, but that was probably as bad as an idea as burning its feet. That was a bad idea, right? She made another copy of the flask in her bra, then took a swig and another and another. The room was spinning and she was unsteady on her feet. She took a step and fell face first.

“Fuck, that hurt.” She slowly crawled onto her knees. Deadlegs was back and trying to attack a robot. Similar to the kind she’s seen outside The City walls from the days of the Old World. She learned how to get one started and tinkered with its parts before, but they weren’t conducive to smuggle back into The City. She never thought she’d see one functioning. If what Mani told her about them were right, then it should be able to fight a deadlegs easy. If the girl manning it can get it working. There were others around her trying to help her out. A woman put up a green shield deadlegs was beating on. She screamed to get her out of there.

Esperanta held up her mirror to teleport over to them, but she was seeing double. Shit. Her hand moved left and right, trying to work out which would put her closer or further away. Fuck it. She went right and teleported next to the robot.

“Trip for two.” She touched the robot, then aimed at the area behind deadlegs beyond the flames. She and the robot went in that direction. The landing wasn’t smooth. She rolled and hit the wall, legs upside down, but at least it worked.

Battle of Mount Olympus

Deleted

NEOTOKYO: State of Disarray [Open]

Around him the conversation was mostly in English. Seohyung couldn’t understand any of it and he didn’t care to. He’s used to being excluded in social situations, so he kept to himself and his mused about Skygge’s suit. The more he looked at his shoulders and chest the more familiar he became, like he’s seen his body somewhere before. Granted he’s known Skygge for over a year, but this was different. Like he’d seen him somewhere that wasn’t in a work capacity. Seohyung tilted his head. It was right there at the front of his mind, but he couldn’t thi...wait. Those shoulders broad as ever, chest wide and large, he tipped over sideways just enough to see his waist line and the tops of his thighs. Masked Phantom? No. He couldn’t be. Seohyung sat up right and looked across from him right passed the sword woman’s head. No, not sword woman. Li. That’s what Skygge called her. Not Japanese, but she doesn’t look it to begin with.

He was focused on the flowers a ways from the table, eyes slightly wide. Skygge had the exact same body type as Phantom. There’s a Phantom poster on his wall back home. He hasn’t seen it since he was last home a year ago, but he would recognize that body anywhere. He bought magazines just to look at him. It’s what got him into fashion to begin with. He’s always wondered what his face looked like. Now he knows. What was he supposed to do with that information? Should he ask Skygge about it? Would he even admit to it in the first place? Not likely. He kept his face covered for a reason, but it’s not like Seohyung would tell anyone else. He has five friends and he hasn’t seen any of them in a year. Not that he would, even if he saw them everyday. He’ll wait until High Tea was over to confront him. He doesn’t want to put him on the spot and oust him to everyone, especially after training this morning.

Seohyung looked away from the flowers at the call of his nickname. One that’s only used when “Suicidal” was attached to it. His eye twitched just the slightest bit. Her tone was motherly and he hated it. Not even his father called him that and his friends called him different variations of Kame. Either -chan or -kun or -san. He sat up straighter, though he hadn’t slouched in the first place.

He stared into her eyes, fists clenched his pants for a moment, then he relaxed his grip. There’s nothing to fear. “Ri-san, please refrain from calling me so familiarly. In the fourteen months I’ve been here we haven’t exchanged much conversation, and we see either other on occasion in the training hall. I admire your skills, but we’re not friends, lovers, or family. Address me as Kamenashi-san.” The more he spoke he realized he was asking to be hated by the entire table, which was fine. He never expected anything to change. “Also refrain from being concerned for me. I don’t need anyone to mother me. Training won’t kill me.” He’s too resilient for that. “If you want a fight we can set an appointment, preferably on a free day.” He’s watched Li train on several occasions. She’s really good. Enough to get his blood hot. He wants a challenge that’s not robotic. Li could be that for him if she takes him up on the offer.

The Gauntlet

Where the fuck was she and why does her mind feel clear? Esperanta sat up, dazed, confused, and in need of a drink. Around her were strange people she couldn’t fathom existing and she grew up in a forest with all kinds of...mon...sters. What the fuck was that? Above her was a arachnid creature that looked like a deadlegs, except it had a humanoid torso instead of a thorax. Nope. She not drunk enough to deal with this shit. She looked around the room. Nothing here, but high vaulted ceilings, no doors or windows. No way out. Fuck. She looked up just end time for the legs to crash down on her and the other prisoners. She tumbled across the floor, rolled onto her knees, and looked at the other side of the room away from the deadlegs. She pulled her mirror from her belt, was sucked into it, then popped back out on the other side of the room.

The others were fighting it, but she was looking for a place to hide. Screaming, blood, shrill cries from the all around her while she ran for her life. It was too much to remember, especially in this situation. Deadlegs wasn’t looking at her, preoccupied with enough distraction that she doesn’t have to be involved. Instead, she pulled her flask from her bra and held it up to her mirror. A second flask fell out of it and into her lap. She stuck the original back in her bra and took several twigs from copy. Only half as strong at 48% alcohol, but she’ll have to deal with it until she gets out of here. The vodka burned her throat and sinuses. That’s the good shit. Her head spun for a moment, then she was up and ready to face the copy of her nightmares. A young girl, thin, and taller than her shot arrow after arrow that exploded upon contact with the webs the deadlegs shot out.

Then she was trapped under a web. Esperanta cracked her knuckles, held her mirror up and teleported right under the creature. She opened the copy flask and poured all the alcohol out of it, then made five copy puddles. She teleported to the girl’s side and grabbed an arrow from her quiver.

“I’ll be taken that.” She teleported behind the deadlegs, pulled her arm back, and threw the arrow under the creature. The arrow exploded and burned a fire under the creature. It screeched horribly. Damn. There's fire. It's burning and no water to put it out...Maybe she shouldn’t’ve done that. Too late to care now.

The Tower: Bright Dawn

Cold chilled him to the bone. He needed to move. Rosario tried opening his eyes to not avail. Next he tried his fingers and toes. Still nothing. Why couldn’t he move? Where was he? He panicked, fright warmed his heart, but it did nothing against the cold. Was he died? Purgatory maybe? Okay, okay, calm down.

“Oh mijo. My poor baby.” His mother’s voice. He heard her, though faint as it was, but still. He can hear that means he’s alive. Okay, so alive, but cold. Can’t move, but his mother is here. That’s better than nothing. Think. What was the last thing he remembered? Party. Graduation party. Gregorio pulled him on stage to give a speech, then gun fire. He got shot in his shoulder. Men in black ambushed the party. Screams, the smell of blood. Then he-he...Oh God. He killed all those people like the day the Tower blew. What has he done? He’d cry if he could. Vomit if he could. But he could do nothing, but stay still.

“I suspected what he was, but I didn’t realize he was so dangerous. If I’d known sooner, then we could’ve locked him up before he did so much damage.” His father. So both his parents were here. He’s locked up? What happened after all the deaths? Blood and red one moment, then darkness the next. The MPD must have captured him. Okay, so what happens after capture? He studied this obsessively after that day. Dangerous parahumans are locked up in power neutralizing prisons. It’s cold and he can’t move. Cryopod. His father spoke with a few counsel members about para prisons. Some of those are cryopods in large rooms with multiple levels. He’s in prison in a cryopod. He’s too cold to use his power, which means no escape. Fuck. He’s trapped here.

Time passed, Rosario couldn’t tell the difference at first, but he figured out the guard’s schedules from listening to the faint thud of their boots when they walk by his pod. He assumes they rotate every four hours. Each guard does a sweep once. The way they walk is different, so he knows when the shift changes. He counts six different feet, before the rotation starts again. So six guards a day. Took him two weeks to figure it out after he wallowed for however many days. He just has himself to keep occupied when he’s not sleeping and that was enough to almost drive him crazy, so counting guards and minutes of the day was the only thing keeping him sane.

His mother breaks up the monotony when he visits him on occasion. She talks about what’s going on in the city, how the house took a few weeks to get fixed up after the party, how the funerals went, etc. But there’s limited information about the men that attacked them. She said they were terrorists. Poor folks dissatisfied with the rich and a lot of heavy hitters were at the party that night. It was the perfect chance to take them out. Rosario’s just happy his family was safe. She said that during his speech his father got a phone call and she was in the bathroom.

His father hasn’t been back to see him, since the first day, which was fine. He didn’t expect him to come back. It surprised him that he visited in the first place. The shame of having a para for a son probably made his father the talk of all the parties and meetings. He wouldn’t put it passed him to spin it into a sob story for votes and business. He can see his campaign now. As the father of a para child it is imperative to vote for me, because I can guarantee I’ll do everything in my power along with Lorne Corp to get our children back right. As if Gregorio truly cares. If he can keep his seat on the city senate than that’s all that matters.

Rosario didn’t know what day it was, but he knew it was the evening. The second to last shift change walked by an hour ago.

3600
3601
3602
36

The cryopod shut down for a second, then came back on just as fast. What just happened?

“Hey! What happened?” He heard muffled shouts. They weren’t close, but it was loud enough.

“Don’t know. Power sur-”

“Guys check your tablets. You gotta see this!”

The footsteps ran towards him and stopped in front of his pod. He counted four maybe five people.

“What is that?”

“What you do what is it? It’s an eyeball, dummy.”

"You are not alone… The Change comes to all things in time. Break your shackles and embrace true freedom."

Whatever that was shut down the power for a second. He’ll need longer than that to get out of here. Maybe it’ll happen again and he’ll get his chance. He can only hope.

Battle of Mount Olympus

Are normal human abilities such as strength, speed, and agility automatically enhanced in demi-gods? Or do we need to specify it under abilities in the cs?

Battle of Mount Olympus

@SamaraJayne96 The color is a light green. Did the site change it from magenta to green?

Battle of Mount Olympus

Just so it's listed here like in the interest check, I call dibs on Dionysos.

@SamaraJayne96 What color did you use for Dionysos?

NEOTOKYO: State of Disarray [Open]

Seohyung arrived with minutes to spare. A few people were already there. He’s had tea with two of them before. The sword woman whose name escapes him and Skygge, in his Yamato Autumn Collection suit. He knew O’Connell from regular missions. The others were new to him, the blond man smoking in the back of the garden, the feminine boy in a dress, and the small boy that excitedly introduced himself. Seohyung followed the kid’s greeting, until he said an English name then a Japanese name. He wasn’t well versed in English passed Hello, Goodbye, and My name is. English wasn’t a class he remembered much from middle school and only learned enough to pass the tests. He vaguely remembers given names are first, then the last second, but the boy spoke Japanese, so he didn’t see the point in greeting him like he couldn’t. He must not have been raised here or he wouldn’t have to think too hard about how to greet him and his manners were shit. 

“Hajimemashite, Hyuga-san. Kamenashi Seohyung desu.” He bowed forty-five degrees, then straightened up.  His chest tightened up, his breaths slightly shallow, and his palms were sweaty. He needed to move, before Hyuga got the idea to say something about his name, so he went to stand by his seat.

Skygge sat at the head of the table, brush in hand, writing something in kanji. It was a poem, but he didn’t recognize it. Can’t say he knew much poetry to being with. Seohyung kept his focus on important things: training, missions, and fashion. Anything else escaped him. Once Skygge was done he greeted them and allowed them to sit. Seohyung sat in a chair to Skygge’s right. He didn’t like being this close to him. Skygge has gotten on him about his training and mission conduct on plenty of occasions. Seohyung wouldn’t say he hates him, but their interactions are unpleasant to say the least and being this close makes him anxious after the stunt he pulled today. But he didn’t want to move, it’s the seat he always sat in to get a close enough look at Skygge’s High Tea suits. There’s a lot he could say about his superior officer, and impeccable fashion taste was one of them. The Yamato Collection wasn’t his favorite by Fukuto Shiruku, but it was no less beautiful than what she usually produced. Though his wages are decent, he still doesn’t make enough to hope to buy one of her outfits.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught the new foreigner approaching and frowned when he put out his cigarette on his shoe. He could only guess he was American. Shit manners seem to be common among them. He ignored the foreigner’s attempt at a friendly smile and poured himself some green tea instead and put a biscuit on his plate. The sweets didn’t appeal to him. Sweet things made his teeth hurt. 

Seohyung kept to himself and listened in on everyone else’s conversations. The feminine boy in a dress's English was atrocious. He couldn't understand much other than super, cool, and guy but nothing added up. This was already a trainwreck. 

Between sips of tea and bites of his biscuit he kept his eyes on Skygge’s suit. The golden embroidery stuck out the most against the black fabric, but that wasn’t the best part. It was the subtle black design that went unnoticed unless you looked closely. A hallmark of Fukuto’s works. Less was more and nothing said that better than subtlety. What he wouldn’t give to feel the soft fabric on his finger tips and trace the design from sleeve to chest and all the way down. 

It didn't help that Skygge's suit was tailored to fit. Broad shoulders accentuated, waist narrow and snug in the waist coat. He caught a glance at his thighs in those pants when he first walked into the garden. It was almost too bad he couldn't get a look while he sat. His face flushed, but he didn't stop his gaze. Did Skygge have the blue one? It was his favorite in the collection. The blue tie with silver embroidery was a nice piece on its own. Maybe he could buy it separate, even though he wasn’t a fan of ties, one from Fukuto would be worth it. He'll have Usagaya look it up later.

The Gauntlet

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