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3 yrs ago
3 yrs ago
A Coke thief stole my last Ice Cold Coca Cola.
3 yrs ago
I wonder how many people sit at their desk facepalming in silence at my jokes.
3 yrs ago
On his way to Corvega Assembly plant for a settlement mission, gets distracted by a new settlement site and spends the day building it up. I'll get there I swear!!
3 yrs ago
Check out my Fallout Fan Fiction
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I got into Roleplaying, er more specifically Post by Post Roleplaying around, I think it was four years ago? It feels much longer than that. My good friend whose now far too busy in college introduced me. He wanted by make a Mass Effect RP for his younger brother, or Cousin, something along those line. The games series was far to mature for someone of his age but he felt he could make a family friendly RP. And while that never panned out, I was hooked. Fast forward to the present day and I'm an avid RP and casual writer. I mainly prefer Fallout RPs, and am working on my own which will take place in the fictional Lore of Alaska. But it's far from ready. Between my laziness and my workload of various RPs and Videogames I am often rather busy. Yet I always find myself exceptionally bored. So I like contemplating Philosophical Conundrums.

Most Recent Posts

Dr. Lions

In Fringe Science

Seeing Dr. Matthew Lions for the first one would say that he was unimpressive in person, quiet, scrawny and disjointed. But he was the foremost expert Poseidon Energies had on metallurgy and engineering and if anyone could figure out alien metals and their composition it was him, with the alien marketplace in Milwaukee of all places brought along with it an incredible influx of weapons, materials and technology and from Mrs. Patton a special package cubes of a strange metal if you could call something like it metal. Everything hit a fever pitch once STRIKE fell it wasn’t exactly clear when Poseidon discovered Milwaukee’s alien blackmarket but villains knew it existed to some degree and obviously some of their scientists used this boon of technology early to advance their careers.

As his research into the newfound alien alloy progressed he discovered it more pure than anything man has created pure and imperfect, alloys that were never meant to exist fused against all known laws of physics. The rumbling and growling disturbed the other assistants as they worked alongside him watching him drink a nutrition paste. “Yes, note that as of twenty one hundred hours each imperfect cube has varying degrees of composition. Despite their atoms fused at a level I’ve never seen they are far from strong, a few show potential to surpass the strongest metals I’ve worked with; more testing required.”

Next to the cubes lay an environmental suit. Seemingly perfecting the technological limitations of the Bulwark of Aegis. It’s power source was already sent to Pacific Point for research; discovering it held an internal power battery that could charge off waves of electricity. Keeping the battery small yet giving the output a high yield, it was a personal shield, a air filter and oxygen tank. “Without a tried and true method to deliver wireless power on the scale this suit was designed for alterations must be made to ensure there’s a large enough power source.” Tossing a crumpled tube towards the trash Dr. Lions grabbed his recorder as he shifted over to another workstation and reviewed the work there.

“Dr. Lions, salvaging from the other environmental suit we managed to procure a heater unit.” Watching the Dr pause, the assistant continued. “Hour 5 minute 41. You asked for cold weather insulation.”

“Ah.” Rewinding his recorder he listened silently to it. “-- Alien climates will undoubtedly vary as seen in the sheer versatility these suits are capable of. Mrs Patton wants an armor for all situations. Immense cold and heat resistance will be necessity--” Slipping his recorder back into his chest pocket he spoke. “Yes, continue then.” Dr. Lions held his jaw cupping his fingers around his pointed jawline as he shuffled around drawing notes and schematics up as he went.

His aide sighed in relief compiling more notes on the nature of all the unusual materials they could discover hampered by their own technologies and making slow headway with the alien scanners. He and all the others working could feel inadequacy before the revelation of technology light years beyond what they could conceptualize, even Dr. Lions struggled working long hours merely figuring out what seemed to be basic functions. A Prothean environmental suit would form the basis of the new armor design using its technology and adapted to fit a human, clearly bipedal creatures were a rarity given the adaptability the suits provided.

Dr. Lions didn’t put too much thought into the possibility of what these aliens might appear like, his work already kept his mind busy and there were others more suited for such a task. All that mattered were these were incredibly easy to modify. “Twenty One hundred hours fifty five minutes, integrated the kinetic adapting shielding; power source will be difficult to replicate in a short time frame. The extras will need to be used up cutting into our stock for research, approval has already came down from Mrs. Patton.”

Ripping open a nutritional packet. “The Board voiced their concern but I have permission to go through with it and Dr. Martel seems confident he can fully manufacture the alien power source. I’ve worked with him before, perhaps he can.” Slurping down a slimy gel he collects his thoughts. “Whatever happens, aliens, metas, possibly even the unknown I’ll be fine studying it.” With a pause as he looks at all those working under him. “Even if I fall I can shoulder that burden.”
<Snipped quote by Fallenreaper>

I'm one of those people.


Cool people do not play Christmas music year round for "fun"

(OOC NPC set up post so I can get more things down the line.)

Rosie hovered over the coffee pot dispensing freshly brewed motivation with each cup as the last heroes trickeled into her establishment finally sure that no one was currently attacking the city or it's citizens. The Hounds had crawled back into whatever hole they lived in and looking into what information Flower had brought them yielded some results, it was true that Eva's father had done business with some criminals who used a front to do operate. Private Investigators crooks more like it, crooks with a long rap sheet. How anyone mistook them for legitimate upstanding citizens is beyond her understanding. Still the fact that Nathaniel hired these goons was something she and other heroes couldn’t ignore proof enough that something was off about the whole ordeal. Walking over towards American Rocket exiting the diner counter she sat down next to him at the booth his rocket pack laying before them taking up space on the table.

“Rocket, I’d like you to go across the pond and meet our friends in England, The League; with your pack out of commission for a while until Blue Beagle can fix it, I think this is a good time for a vacation.”

Raising a brow with a cup of joe in hand. “Ah yes ‘Vacations’ to meet superhero groups and uncover a weird conspiracy sure. I love those. One of these days I just want a beach all to myself. No Mole Queens, No weird terrorist radical ninjas with alien guns, just me and shells on the sand.”

“Well yes.” Rosie said as she looked towards the television that had their mayor addressing the people of New York.

--- City Hall ---

His tie adjusted his suit immaculate Sampson smugly approached the podium fully aware the public had suspicions his eyes shifted up and words began pouring from his mouth smoother than a clean shave. “Ladies, Gentlemen, Stan from the Times get my good side this time.” Letting a joke bring some levity he loosely shrugged and returned to a more somber tone. “But before we begin a moment of silence for all lost to these Hounds of Humanity.”

With all the violence and the sudden and wholly revelation that heroes with powers exist and that terrorists had declared a war against humanity many had something to pray for someone or just an end to the madness. Placing both hand upon the podium Sampson spoke. “I’ve been hard on supers, it’s hard for good men in blue to perform their jobs when heroes without training or emergency response experience. We do not need civilians trying to be heroes, there are no super villains, no secret lairs. Only criminals who need to be arrested and prosecuted to the full extent of the law.” Stopping and raising his hands passively. “ It’s why I created Stars and Stripes. Putting badges on supers and giving them the training they properly need to aid the police not listen to a police scanner in some dusty garage or dress like a stray cat. I do not support these terrorists and they will be rooted from their holes and stuffed into cells for their crimes.” Taking a step back he raised a single arm and began waving within seconds he continued while backing away. “That’s everything, New York’s finest are here to ensure your protection.”

The reporters began swarming the Mayor as his bodyguards kept them away until one managed to sneak past and corner Sampson before he reached his car. “Mr. Mayor. Your thoughts on the heroes of Sherman square? Single handedly stopping the Finger of God despite the local police efforts?”

“Ah yes. Well the Lost Haven Police didn’t have my creations.” Pressing down on his cuff-link and machine popped out from his trunk and began to form into a cannon of sorts and put the width between him and the female reporter, “You see I haven’t stopped inventing not after I became Mayor, go ahead it’s harmless unless given cause. Far more advanced than anything that Knight ever created.”

The reported could feel alongside the body of the floating gun. “Impressive I suppose, a rather brutish display of force.”

“You did corner me. Now if you excuse me I have to prepare documents to ensure the NYPD are capable of dealing with more threats human or otherwise.” His machine kept the reporter from pushing further as Sampson seated himself and was driven off.

All the while someone slinked back into the darkness leaving a destroyed parking meter behind as the only evidence he was there at all.
also is anyone else doing inktober this year, cause the prompt list is a mix of awesome and weird this year.

I think only a few of the more artsy ones of us are doing it. Hellis and I'm forget if anyone else was.
Alaskan Federation

As the train began to depart the Brotherhood members aboard could hear the whistling and grinding of gears a sign that these iron steeds were falling apart and only hope kept them chugging along.

One of the three Conductors inside was pushing a cart making his way down the isle checking in on the passengers. “Sorry about the ride folks. Heard we'll be getting some prime salvage soon, old girl is showing her age.” Patting the walls of the carriage he muttered. “Soon old girl, soon. We'll get you fixed up.” Turning his attention back to the Scribes he pulled open the side panel and sat down some ales. “In case you lot get thirsty, our expected travel time will be about six and a half hours give or take. As long as no Northern Stags graze on the tracks. If you need pillows or a blanket let me or another conductor know.”

Meanwhile as papers shuffled atop North’s desk he slumped over trying to stay one step ahead of not just his enemies but apparently his own allies as well.

“Need me to go over the information again North?” A woman’s voice called out from across the desk one he knew well. Valmet of the Bush Company. Assassin and Spymaster.

North looked up from his large spruce desk misshapen and hand carved, only a portion of it had a flat surface to work on and he somehow loved it. “No. Valmet I understand completely, she thinks she can skirt the boundary of our alliance by banishing her men as traitors. So they can aid the Cult and with it bring gold and glory back. It’s a smart move from Clan Bearhorn.”

“We have no deals with the forty eight states, but that puts us at a disadvantage. They’ll come looking for reparations even seeking to finish off Clan Bearhorn. Worse still if these ‘traitors’ return with caps and treasure they will be treated as heroes, spoken in the same breath as the heroes of old. They’ve had time to make their move.” Valmet sat letting her arms sink into the furred upholstered armchair. “We cannot let them reach that level of fame.”

North silently agreed his head giving a soft nod. “We’ll need to guard our ports, catch them before they reach a port, confiscate the goods so that Victoria’s plan to endorse this war will go awry.”

“Forcing them to uphold their alliance and continue the banishment on her men. That still however isn’t a fool proof plan. But it’s only one problem, we know the Cult met with slavers likely facilitated by Clan Bearhorn. Sometime in the last month or so.”

“And with the Cult’s cash we’ve already seen a resurgence of slavers on the fringes.” North stood up searching for a map grasping pins in his mouth as he unfolded it. “We thought that by taking Stanton we cut them at the balls. Dealing a fatal blow but it hasn’t been long enough for them to simply die out. And with their newfound wealth they’ll search for a new foothold.” Placing pins down Valmet watched as he theorized likely bases. “Keep your scouts in these spots, on the cliffs, the ruins or anywhere you can station them. They’ll move in towards the city and pick off any travelers. Haul any beasts and trade with any unaffiliated raiders.”

While North and Valmet talked the train had pulled up and started unloading. Brotherhood Scribes funneled put ready to see their workstations. A short jaunt to metal shacks and they saw hastily built shacks connected to form a singular building. Men still bringing materials to finish and reinforce it proper.

All the while a taller building stood behind it with a glass roof and a garden inside heated by several large steam generators mounted alongside the walls to ensure the plants grew well.

A man stepped forward to great the Brotherhood Scribes, tall with low hanging tired eyes appearing to be of asian descent. “Ah..hh.” His speech was slow and his exhaustion was clear with every movement. “I'm afraid you will need to share the research labs with another. We need to keep someone there since we are unable to move some of the more sensitive plants. I..” Pausing his breath released from his tensing jaw and came out as a long yawn. “Excuse me. I'm Tenma Hoozuki. One of the Rangers in charge in between my patrols. Your bunkhouse is just about ready, it will keep the cold out until the workers can finish it up; the smaller hut that is the entrance is like a airlock of sorts. Preventing hot air from leaving the main residence and serving as closet.”

Stepping back and covering his mouth again yawning he prepared to head off before stopping. “Oh and if you need to meet with North Ashland you can reach me from the radio inside. All the frequencies are written on a note attached to the desk.”


Location: At the HoH base
Time: Attacking the second Base.


”Get back!”

Racheli’s eyes hardened, her attention snapped to Hound Dog. Quickly her mask’s demonic features twisted into worry as she shoved past the hero. Her figure flew down the tunnel with a snappish demand in her wake, “Come On!”

Red light flooded the control room when a machine’s voice rang out. It spurred her feet to run faster, trying to eat up the distance.


Abruptly a thick, titanium door dropped into her path. Her feet skidded to a stop before she collided into it, her vision promptly sought somewhere to get a solid grip. The door appeared completely smooth. Racheli cursed out loud and tossed a punch at it. She hoped to dent it, but the metal resisted her force. It would take her several minutes to get through. Enraged by this fact, Rach’s hand fisted tighter then punched again at the same place. More surface gave, centimeter by centimeter, to her temper.

“FLETCH! ROADBLOCK! WHAT’S HAPPENING?” Racheli tried to shout through the door.

When the other door shut, her head shot over her shoulder to see Hound Dog had followed her inside. Now they were both trapped in what appeared to be a glass wall hallway. Taking a break from her fruitless punching, she stepped back from the door.

“Do you got anything to bust through this door?’ She asked bluntly.

Hound Dog knew that if the door didn't buckled at a punch a force that had quite the impact it was unlikely that he himself could break it any faster.”Course I dos. But that's some serious chrome plating. Even with my railgun it will take more than a few hits.” Pulling back his arm he whipped out a disk and as lightning crackled and discharged the load and with a boom the door barely gave way as scorch marks plastered the surface and only a singular indentation was visible when the cloud of particulates cleared. ”I think we'll need a bit of time. A couple shots and some force perhaps and we can clear this containment lockdown.”

Racheli had been about to answer when muffled gunshots caught her attention. She gritted her teeth, then kicked the nearest glass wall. Cracks spiderwebbed from the impact, but it appeared to be minor damage.

“I don’t think we have time! Can you make some sort of hand hold so I can lift the damn thing up myself?” Her frustration and temper was getting the better of her. Even as she knew it, she tried to tame it and fell short of accomplishing it.

”Might wanna stand back a bit. This is where things get heated.” Flipping out a couple of coins Hound Dog snatched them and readied one as he held the others in a position to fire them off rapidly. ”Well allow me to get the door M’lady.” Firing off the first round with a flash of light and a burst of searing heat the coins smashed into the dent caused it to grow slightly larger as metallic dust settled to the floor, with each subsequent shot increasing the diameter little by little. And after a few more shots perhaps it would be enough.

Racheli couldn’t help but shake her head at the mention of M’lady, “You know something, you’re blinder than a bat.”

Trusting him, she decided to move toward the other side of the tunnel. Hopefully clear of anything he decided to do or at least give her enough of a reaction time. Curious at what Hound intended to do, her eyes closed a moment and her mind focused on her vision. Her irises became dark for a moment then lightened back to her original color.

She crossed over her arms in front of her chest while she waited for him to do something. She frowned at the coins being pulled from his pocket. Unsure what was going on, she was about ask something then found her mouth pop shut. Her eyes widened in surprise as the coins shot off his fingers into the dent at blinding speeds. If not for her bird of prey eyesight, it would’ve appeared like the coins had vanished completely. Small, metallic traces floated in the air before they glided to the floor.

“Alright, that was neat. However, be careful with the heat… It doesn’t mix well with me.” Racheli popped off.

”Don’t mix well with me either. I sweat buckets after this. Do youse know how much moisturizing lotion I need, I perpetually smell like coconut and fried bacon.”

“Yeah, I rather not become useless during this job…” She mumbled grumpily.

The woman began to move back to the door when a sound caught her ears. A whirring and grinding sound started up, shifting to either side of the walls. Through the glass two small lights glowed then shot across to connect at the center. A humming echoed through the small space. It shot forward causing Racheli to slam hard into the floor, narrowly avoiding it slicing her in half.

“Watch out!” She screamed toward her ally.

It had definitely caught Hound Dog off guard even though he could see something powering up he had never expected a laser defense system. Snapping into action he done for the wall and kicked off just in time to avoid the beam as he landed in front of Nemesis. ”Okay new game plan they turned up the heat with some added difficulty. What's our plan?”

“Shutting it down would be the goal, but how the hell to do that is beyond me,” Racheli watched the laser split then vanish a moment.

The laser reappeared as it darted back for them. Her gut stirred again, giving the impression this wasn’t that simple and rose up to her feet.

“I think that thing is learning,” Just as Rach spoke, the laser slit into two separate beams.

One end of each laser lifted onto the ceiling while the other fell to the floor, creating a X across the hallway.

Examining everything at his disposal Sinclair knew that Nemesis had some power behind her punches spying the minor damage to the glass he had a basic plan. ”Alright. Plan time.” Hound Dog said as he dodged the next laser wave. ”I'm going to fry the wall like a Christmas turkey but I need a hole in the glass. Let's not test just how many limbs you can regenerate.”

Racheli rushed to the tunnel’s other side as the beams advanced on her. She was stopped by the locked door, realizing she had trapped herself and cursed loudly.


She paced back then forward, seeming to debate on her next move. Her magnetic abilities were still unsharpened save for tossing or pulling metal to her. Finding no way out, Rach held her breath then bolted for the door’s surface. Her right boot magnetized on the surface while she scaled up it. At the peak, she kicked off. Her figure thinned while she backflipped through the top hole.

Racheli immediately landed on her ass afterwards. The scent of burnt leather wafted in her nose as she noticed her soles were scorched. She had gotten damn lucky it didn’t severe the leg or she wasn’t regenerating it. Hearing Hound’s comment snapped her out of her shock.

“Why not, I love feeling excruciating pain,” Heavy sarcasm came from her lips.

Not washing time, she jerked up on her feet. It wouldn’t take the lasers long to redirect themselves and she didn’t want to see how close she could cut it this time. Having a rough time finding traction with her damaged boot, Rach managed to stop right at the damaged glass. Her foot kicked out at the already cracked spot.

The laser was already coming back for a third round. This time the beams advanced before they spread out into a net pattern with the intention to fully wipe out the intruders locked in its dangerous lair.

Feeling the pressure, Rach kicked out with all her strength. Frustration and panic over Fletch’s screams urged her onward. Once… twice… thrice. Finally the glass gave away. Seeing a small hole suitable for Hound’s arm to fit, she stepped back shouting, “Go, Go, Go!”

Barely sliding right underneath Nemesis so much so that her heel licked Sinclair's back as his arm touched the wall and sent a voltage strong enough to send power surges throughout the entire base. The lasers flickered and simply ceased. ”Bout time. I could feel hell on my heels. I'm just gonna sit for a bit. And let you handle the door.”

“Right…” Racheli then turned to the door.

Her fingers found and gripped the hand holds that were created. Her legs widened for balance while her muscles tensed, her body used her knees to lift the heavy door. It screeched in protest, but refused to give. Racheli gritted her teeth in anger. She was going to move this damn door, with or without its cooperation. Adjusting her grip, the woman growled then pulled once more.

This time...the door gave away. It shot up quickly causing Rach to fall backwards and on her ass, giving a loud grunt when she landed. It was obvious she wasn’t the only reason the door opened up.



A Midnight Science Fiction Feature!

As the Police came, and questioned Barron’s rather large arsenal which even he had to admit explaining why he had a mech suit was more than a stretch if he himself didn’t have the ability to influence others they might have actually gotten a straight answer from him. Lights hung by cords and a slot machine spat out coins intermittently with the last of the surviving guests taken to safety some still decided that staying was safer given how the hounds ran liking their ass, the ground floor was devastated chips lay broken chalk marked outlines of those who had not managed to flee in time and over forty lay dead Hounds and those who had not yet fled. Most of the body count had been in Hounds with a good twenty five people in tactical armor. However even the numbers of innocents he did have were unacceptable and as he finally was done with the police took off for his office up the only other working elevator this side of Gomorrah checking his watch as a glitter of gold reflected in his eye he tapped his foot while the elevator dinged to his penthouse floor. Passing into his office, he took a moment to water his plant with strange red branches as he set the bucket to its side as he took his seat waiting upon his guests to arrive. Setting his legs upon the clean table polished to a shine he could see the black of his soles as he fiddled with his bangs combing them with a slight bit of wax clinging to the teeth slinging out a pocket mirror to examine his mug tilting his chin left and right until with a pleased grin he folded the silverish case that contained the mirror and reached for his right breast pocket placing it back where it belonged.

Sweeping his legs off the table he spotted a coaster inlaid with gold trimmings off center and carefully realigned it to match the others arching back and taking a proper view of the room ensuring not a detail was missed, kissing his fingers as he snapped them. ”Perfect.”

Six warm bodies swept the floor of Gomorrah, passing over the devastation as if floating, unseen by the lingering officers who surveyed the the grounds for remaining dead or injured patrons. Hekate led this midnight procession, draped in violet garments that flowed in an ethereal wind. At her side stood Circe, golden locks glowing in the neon light, basked in the same divine splendor as her mistress. Behind this pair walked the leading members of the remaining Four Families of Las Vegas; Genevieve Lachance, Syrenna Rowen, Aaron Wright, and Cassandra Loyal, each adorned in fine dress that spoke to and complemented their individual traditions.

”This is how your associate does business?” Circe snided with an upturned nose, put off by the stench of rot. Such solemnity was not an uncommon sight for one such as she, but it was a far cry from the pleasures she had come to expect from a den of sin.

”Come now, Circe,” Hekate reprimanded her in a motherly tone, ”Mr. Vanderbilt and his estate have fallen under attack. A pain we know quite well given the recent loss of Roman’s line. Let us stand in solidarity rather than mock his home. For now, he has our sympathy.”

The Four nodded to one another in response, agreeing with the sentiment.

Eventually, the group came upon Barron’s office on one of the higher floors, passing the remnants of his cruelty. Despite the numerous injustices committed by the lot of them, none quite matched the depravity of Barron’s bloody machinations.

They stepped over the threshold, each one offering their condolences in the form of a bow.

”I see now why you were so insistent on our prompt arrival. My sincerest apologies for our absence. How do you and your wife fare in these trying times?” Hekate decided to embody diplomacy, speaking like the woman the Four had once known, the cunning and silver-tongued Lydia Velis.

Barron smiling with a gaze that lingered over to his freshly potted plant; responded. ”Honestly frustrated, cost of repairs will be expensive and it’ll be hard to pack this place again for a while, still.” He said as the plant began to squirm and moan. ”Quite well otherwise just got myself a new hobby too um what was that thing called again, the thing the Japanese do. YES yes, the bonsai plant. This little hound had the misfortune of lingering around. But his heart just wasn’t in him. Barron giving a short laugh as his eyes glimpsed the plant’s still beating heart in its branches. ”And that is tame really. If you think that’s bad you should see my homeworld, people there are real depraved. But down to business. Have yourself a seat.”

”With Roman Adessi gone and the recent attack on my home and hounds ramping up their weaponry we really aren’t the top pecking order anymore. We’ll need to remind them why we’re to be feared and respected of course. I always like setting an example and right now we need to bring in some big guns, bigger than spells than artifacts. A real legend. I came about an old Norse legend speaking of Hefilstein the Unliving, a Draugr. They say a mage raised him from the dead and gave him resistances to all tools that one could turn on mages and magic, a creature who turned against his creator and was banished with great effort.” Rubbing his hands together excitedly he continued. ”Sounds exciting. I’d personally like to get something like that a good protector to defend against guys like these hounds. And I have quite a few ideas regarding what to do with its temperament. Took a bit of effort and I’ve been working on this project a while but I have found his resting place. With a slight issue. Whoever sealed him put the works on him, I mean no expense in regards to spells, traps and whatever hexes they left lingering. I’ve already cleared some and I’m working up a team to go in and finish the job. I just need to know one thing, Do you want a clear dome. Because I can change the opacity of the braincase. Right not the question just a joke, although there will be a braincase, got myself a fresh brain in biogel thing is already brainstorming as we speak. But honestly do I have your approval. And I can go over the plan in more detail if you want. I’d like to keep in good standing with both Ms. Velis and the Four.”

Those in attendance looked to one another with no shortage of concern, obviously worried that Barron had made some oversight, and if not, that he would. Hekate shared their concern, but her expression didn’t betray her thoughts.

”Well, I hardly think you require my approval, Mr. Vanderbilt, but I appreciate that you hold our opinion in such high esteem. I would be remiss, however, if I said I had no concerns.” Hekate moved closer, pacing in front of Barron’s desk.

”You intend to create your own Frankenstein’s Monster from the corpse of a thousand year old draugr? Well, Mary Shelley would be proud . . .” Circe sarcastically interrupted.

Hekate glanced back at her companion with a knowing smile.

”Forgive my colleague for her intrusion. This is a dear friend of mine, Kirke, or Circe as the Romans knew her and her preferred title. If it was a legend you wished for, one has stumbled right into your home. Circe is a legendary witch of some renown, although given your lack of familiarity with this world’s legends, I wouldn’t expect you to know all of this.”

Circe gave a half bow as Hekate introduced her.

”I didn’t expect Circe anytime soon, you were big on turning your enemies into beasts and had been renowned for your potions. And Frankenstein's monster, close, I’m more thinking something along the lines of robotics. See the Gov in my world had quite the time experimenting on others. Put live human brains on top of robots and that is what I plan to do. A pairing of magic and machine.”

Circe raised an eyebrow but remained quiet for the time being.

”Ah, a student of classics I see, if only for your own benefit. That aside, I share my companion’s concerns, not because I doubt your ability to perform such an operation, but because I fear you have a fundamental misunderstanding of exactly who and what you’re dealing with.”

Hekate removed from her person a silver bullet and an iron cross, relics carried by the Hounds who infiltrated both the Gomorrah and Adessi’s restaurant. She loathed their very presence.

”These do not belong to the Hounds proper, but a secondary group, one I believed long dead. They call themselves The Winter Court, a name stolen from the Good Folk of the British Isles, used to mock them. Witch-hunters and mercenaries make up their ranks, with blessed silver armaments and protective talismans almost unmatched in their potency. I led a coalition to destroy them centuries ago, erase all memory of them and their vile deeds, but somehow, they persist into the modern world.”

”Fortunately,” Circe interjected, ”Their numbers are all a fraction of the existing Hounds, and the blessings required to forge their weapons are arduous and difficult to mass produce. Should your monster find a home here, it is unlikely that you will face off against the Court again.”

”But should they return,” Hekate resumed, ”We have already taken measures to ensure our protection . . . and yours, of course.”

Cassandra Loyal walked forward, a younger woman in her mid to late twenties dressed in dark clothes that fit her well. She was a small woman, slender, with red hair arranged in a neat bun atop her head. She removed a small token from a pocket inside her jacket and placed it on Barron’s desk, smiling at Hekate before returning to the group.

The token was a small coin bearing a strange symbol, something like a labyrinth or a wheel, fashioned from a heavy metal.

”While you might be of the opinion that our spells are of little use in this instance, I have devised a ritual nonetheless that I believe will be to our benefit. This token is made from a vessel that we shall bless come midnight. Simply drive a nail through its center with your wife and whomever else you wish to keep safe present, and you will be immune to the Court’s tricks, for a time, at least.”

”I think you too misunderstand. Magic is powerful and I do not doubt that in the slightest. But I do not wish to be immune to their tricks. I want them hung. Their entrails lining the walls and heads rolling at my feet. I like to set an example and an example is all they’ll be.”

Hekate stopped pacing, standing firmly in front of his desk, her posture very telling.

”Do not mistake my intent, Mr. Vanderbilt. I too long for their demise. They have taken far more from me and my kind than you can imagine. But when last I met The Winter Court with fire and brimstone, some yet remained, rose again to join the ranks of the Hounds. We must be cunning as well as cruel. Which is why another of my associates searches for their leader as we speak, and why I am, at this very moment, staging a means to bring his financial ruin, to drain his resources that he and his troop may be rendered weak.”

”To that we have a common goal, as before you have my resources within reason. But if we are to meet them I’d like us to be better prepared. The Hounds under the Winter Court and the Witch Hunters did not expect to face such diverse means of offence. They were prepared for the building’s security, but not for those I keep in my employ. And I owe it to my men that turned the tide to my favor; in my home I had resources I needed, talented employees and the prior experience of facing a mentally superior enemy.” Setting aside folders of various heroes, Barron opened one. ”Heroes, Champions, Enemies. These so far are all those I have been keeping tabs on. All powerful to some degree and all have potential to tip the balance. To keep order and business well I think we must ensure that our world should not be shaken just yet. Heroes like this Pendragon, White Witch, Van Helsing among others. Some are too new, others have bad blood with us. We’ll need our own champion if they decide to turn their sights on us, and Hefilstein the Unliving has that potential for that. So for as long as we keep these so called Champions focused on other efforts they, including Hefilstein the Unliving, will be useful tools.”

”Do not concern yourself with The White Witch,’ Hekate replied fervently, surprised at herself. ”She is of . . . particular interest to me for reasons I care not to divulge. I would request that she remain firmly out of your sights. Other ‘heroes,’ and champions, I have witnessed many in my time. If it is your desire to manipulate them into fighting your battles, I will aid you in the manner we have discussed, but their motions are of no concern to me. As for the draugr . . .”

Hekate mulled it over, convening quickly with the Four and Circe. They all shared concern for Barron’s methods, but he had been successful, for the most part, in thwarting the Hound’s attempts to destroy his establishment. For that reason, Hekate decided that he deserved more credit than they’d previously given.

”If you think yourself capable of containing this monster, so be it. We offer our blessings. I would humbly request, however, that you not pursue The Winter Court too keenly. They are my enemy, and I shall be the one who reduces them to ash.”

”With all due respect, they are our enemy, and we shouldn’t race each other to end them first. Let us work together proper and finish them while they think us divided.”
<Snipped quote by Dedonus>

No, dangerous would be asking one of the other players. XD

Hmmm yes, I might have something. Have you tried horror films, like a complete film of his Exes?
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@Liseran Thistle is the Kindle your main computer?? I. So sorry. I use Discord on my PC and mobile. Thankfully my phone is nice. And it feels smooth to use Discord.
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