thewizardguy

HCL 2: Twisted tinkers' triumph

"Really? You'd throw away the lives of innocents to kill little old me?" Time seemed to slow down, as the road stretched. It wasn't real, mithais knew that. He could feel the immense pressure on his mind, Gabriel's power knocking on the doors of his brain. He could feel his own shield holding off the fingers that would have plucked apart his sanity, and ripped his memories to shreds. And yet, even so, it seemed as if every step he took only moved Gabriel further away, and only made the thick syrupy air he was struggling through all the harder, all the more solid. A gloved hand slowly extended to his side, the gentle fingers caressing the sides of a small girl's face. Gabriel smiles at Mithias, his eyes blazing red, as long nails burst open the tips of white fabric. The girl simply grins, clutching a teddy bear. And yet, in the soft grip Gabriel held the girl in, strength far above human was clearly apparent. "I could shatter her skull, weak as I am. Would you really sacrifice her life? Would you kill her, boy?" It was as if a guilotine were strapped to the girl's neck, and with undeniable certainty, Mithais knew that if he took another step, the girl would die instantly. Her life was in his hands.

HCL 2: Twisted tinkers' triumph

The fist heading for Drac's face struck the armoured guantlet, plated fingers curling around Bug's hand. A sudden wind blew through the streets, and a strange heat could be felt. Drac didn't move an inch, as the kinetic force of the strike was absorbed and dissipated, turned to wind and heat, and static electricity. The ability was unmistakable, an energy transfer as facilitated by the relic only Drac had access to. A weapon of unknown origin and power, there was no known way it could have been replicated. "Well, to an extent, you're right. I'm not Drac, not really. But to you, I am." He snaps his fingers, and once more, the world is engulfed by that all-devouring light. A broken world, a shattered moon. Pieces of debris still floated around, a field of corpses, ripped apart by the vacuum of space. Cooked and frozen, blasted with supernatural energies. Still the great pieces of debris glowed red-hot, still the aura of powerful magic lingered in this place. And on the floor, not far from where Bug was standing, he himself lay on the ground, beaten and broken. He could feel some immense power, a force of destruction unlike anything he had felt before. And yet, it felt almost natural, as if it was part of the universe around it. An element of existence, as necessary as creation itself. "Welcome to the end of the world. If you look around, I'm sure you'll find your friends somewhere. I'm pretty sure most of them were devoured when the seal shattered, you won't find much of them. Or at least not recognizably." Drac, or at least the image of him, was still standing there, unmoving. And yet, here, he looked..... fading. As if he was only partially there. "This is the timeline where you failed, where destruction was unleashed upon the universe. Where a weapon fails, the seals are released, and everything you have ever worked for is destroyed. Or at the very least, this is the beginning of the end."

HCL 2: Twisted tinkers' triumph

I'm not overly rude, but swearing was invented to add emphasis to words. As such, when emphasis is needed, I apply it.

The Metahuman Revolution

We could try and reboot it, or try and filter in some new players. Either way, I'd like to see this roleplay revitalized.

The Metahuman Revolution

I'm definitely still interested. Sorry for not replying earlier, I had some stuff happen irl. But yeah, it seems like me and Horrid are the only people still around.

The Blood Compact

Actually, if Magnus is fighting the Purge, the Purge aren't where the group is (yet). They're kinda standing in a safe zone, eye of the storm and so on. So while he might be close, the sounds of his combat most likely blend in with all the other combat going on.

The Blood Compact

As Magnus moved through the darkened streets of Kilo Point, he reached into the minds of those around him, visions blurring their attacks, bolts striking far from their marks. And yet, even as he directed his own visions, he found something wrong. For the minds of the Purge he touched were already broken. The religious fervour in their eyes as they swung their blades and fired their Repeating Crossbows was revealed for what it was - what it always had been. Insanity. Cultivated, shaped, carefully applied. Like the hammer of a sculptor, carefully chipping away at the spirit. A process of indoctrination, a play of hope and lies, a continuous decent into extremism. It was a psychological weapon, applied by a master of manipulation, not simply through words but with emotions and visuals. Every moment of despair, every moment of happiness, everything was channeled into this unending devotion, this unbreakable faith, this.... obedience. Not truly faith in the conventional sense, but the trappings of it. Faith honed into a weapon, capable of overriding every human instinct, of shattering even the sense of self preservation. The scene of their minds was solid, it was straight as an arrow. Unbending, unerring, forged steel. It was not bravery that prevented those poor fools from fleeing, but the incapability to feel fear. It was reminiscent of Muslim extremism, but cultivated solely for the purpose of war. The perfect tool to turn men into weapons. And it worked. Even as blades entered their ribs, even as their brains started shutting down, even as pain would have crippled even the most valorous of men, they kept fighting. Mid-death, they still slashed at him, torsos grabbing his legs even after being separated from their lower halves. The slain stood once more, hearts cleaved from their chests, lungs burst, their last breaths spent facing their enemies. That hidden potential of the mind, that capability unlocked only in the most desperate of moments. Through this weapon, they had channelled, perhaps, the full human potential. Even to an Oldblood, the sight of the mostly dead still fighting was unnerving, and as Magnus found his feet held in place by those he would trample underfoot, he was snagged more than once by a passing blade. Even as his blade dug deep into a man's heart, powered by his increased strength, the man stabbed at him, his own sword nearly impaling the Oldblood. Those behind him simply stood up, walking towards him to the best of their ability, organs already falling out, simply waiting for their brain to die. This, was the true power of the Purge, when fully enraged.

The Blood Compact

SOLDIER would have buttered up the Purge a bit before Magnus' crew attacked, plus, the Purge were fighting on two fronts and caught off guard. I guess it would depend on how we want to play it. Perhaps Magnus himself could turn the tide, if shikaru wanted.

@Wraithblade6

Sure, but even if the Purge lost half their numbers, one Crusader can take on ten Newbloods. Not counting the tanks. Furthermore, when the vampires attacked, the Purge ceased all hostilities towards SOLDIER (there would be no point). Presumably, SOLDIER would do the same. Once a greater threat appears, minor factions stop fighting. To the Purge, fighting Newbloods is extermination more than battle. They can kill newbloods with their mere hugging capabilities, and Newbloods, fighting with their bare hands or improvised weapons, are useless against them.

HCL 2: Twisted tinkers' triumph

..wait. by the dark one, do you mean the blob thing? Oh no. That wasn't asura. That was my "me" char, kishin.

@kishin asura

Goddamnit, isn't Asura's first name Kishin? Your entire naming schem is confusing as fuck!

The Blood Compact

Holy shit, we must have posted exactly simultaneously O_o Also, I already stated that the Purge would wreck face against the vampires. For a Newblood, it's a hard task to even harm a Crusader, and the Crusaders have a variety of anti-vamp weapons. To me, this is the logical outcome. Furthermore, the Newbloods have no strategy - they just swarm. Against anti-group weaponry such as the Baptizer or Inferno Tank, they have no defense.