webboysurf

Sky Warriors: Birth Of An Army

Jimmy Web: The Jonestown Runner

The sight of hostiles sent a shiver down Jimmy's spine, but he wasn't one to back out of a challenge. Once the others broke formation, Jimmy gunned the throttle and shot forward. He knew the Roger Dodger was built for two things: Speed and Agility. It wasn't well armored, wasn't well armed... but boy did Jimmy know how to make it dance. He trusted the legendary pilot leading them to pick off those who would come after him.

Jimmy lowered his altitude, seeming to dive directly for the ground, but pulled up at nearly the last second as he flew only about 50 yards above the fairly level field. Once behind the other bounty hunters, a hard pull on the stick and a few twists and turns saw the Roger Dodger attempt to being dogfighting as he squeezed down the trigger as his Vulcans spit out bullets. The goal wasn't to take down the fighter he was chasing... the goal was to get their attention. He kept his wits about him, his head on a swivel as the Jonestown Runner said hello in this unusually aggressive manner. "Iron Jackson, keep an eye on my ass. Something tells me these sharks wanna bite!"

Marvel: Shadows and Secrets (18+)

@TwilightShadow@Almalthia
I'll look at your rules again and make a character. Do we need to be just discovering our powers though or can we be established?

@soren

Given most of the characters, including my own, established seems to be acceptable.

Red vs Blue: Respawn

So somehow I never got the notification for this. If we still want to do this I can put a character together this weekend.

Sky Warriors: Birth Of An Army

I honestly completely forgot this RP was a thing. I'm a little swamped with other RPs, 2 jobs, and a bunch of other shit going on in my life, but I'll get a post up this weekend for certain.

---

Threw up a small sheet for James' sister, Jess, since she's also in Higgins and she's housing James. Felt it might be important to give some background information since she might come up in a few posts.

The House of the Wayward Hero (DCU)

La Vida: Wayward House --> His Room

---

James' eyes were screwed shut, and the soothing rhythm of the whetstone scraping against the blade kept him in a state of peace. He had never attempted meditation in this way. Perhaps this is what he needed to keep his mind at ease...

The soothing feeling faded quickly as he heard footsteps outside of his door, getting closer and closer, before the door was forced open and the woman he had insulted filled the doorframe. James' eyes rolled beneath his lids as a sigh passed through his lips. He listened to what she was saying before turning his eyes towards her, his weaponry assembled around him neatly in a mighty disturbing fashion. His hazel eyes met hers, and a strange mix of apathy and intense energy mingled in them for a short moment, before he lowered his head as he rose to his feet. He threw on a decorated hoodie and began to silently assemble what he was going to take with him. A few of the kunai, his signature two swords, and a few of his pyrotechnic and tear gas devices would suffice. While holding the mask in one hand, his eyes looked towards her again, the same sense of intensity and emptiness washed over his face and melted into his voice. "I can use a ride in that direction. I'm not so much a detective, but taking a look at the crime scene wouldn't be a bad place to start. Might help narrow down who I have to hurt." With that, he placed the mask on over his face and would wait to follow Ashlyn into the breach. His muffled voice emanated from behind the mask, "If we're using our fake names out there... Knight will suffice. And before you say anything, I know it's not original."

The Marauders (2018)

Yeah, I'm just sitting here cause Dev did his thing. Gonna wait for everything else to fall into place before doing anything else.

Marvel: Shadows and Secrets (18+)

---

The elevator doors opened into a spotless, state of the art base that instantly sparked Sling's jealousy. The vigilante had to live in a decrepit building and use that as a base of operations over the past few months, rather than live in a luxury hero-cave. Regardless, Sling shook his head as he picked up the two cases he had on him and walked into the base. Rather quickly, he noticed the hulking figure of Alistar approaching. "Sling I don't know how you run interrogations so I will follow your lead, oh and is it safe to assume shield has a document on me? Oh yes I know about them and Hydra, perks of being old as I am. If they do, you know about my techniques?" Jackson gave a short nod. "I read your file on the way over. Open the wounds one at a time. I've heard it's effective."

Sling nodded, and the two finally made their way into a small concrete room where the last surviving Hydra agent from the Rum House sat, chained into a metal chair in the middle of the room. He couldn't move a muscle, which was quite frankly what the two men wanted. The hydra agent's cold steel eyes scanned both of them, and the intent was crystal clear. Slingshot made his way to the wall, leaning against it and watching as Alistar got to work. The demonic man placed a hand on the Hydra agent's chest, and blood began to pour out from his right arm. Even for an individual used to dealing with some powered individuals, the shock and the pain sent the hostile into a screaming fit.

Alistar spoke up, his deep voice echoing in the small room. "Who were you after?"

"Go... to Hell..."

Alistar's lips curled into a knowing smile. "I've already been." Another touch, and another gaping bullet wound opened in the agent's right forearm. Relived pain tempered the agent's attitude rather quickly. "Jackson Hurley and Ava Alkaev... Those were the names given."

Slingshot gave a small smile as he approached, Alistar taking a few steps back as the former SHIELD agent approached. "Who sent you?"

"I... I don't know."

Another wound opened after the non-answer, and blood was clearly beginning to pool on the cold, concrete floor. The screaming was muffled by five feet of concrete. "I've had a real shitty day motherfucker. Who... sent... you?" Jackson's voice was filled with rage. It had been over a year since his last "enhanced interrogation," but to a man like him it was like riding a bike: you never really forget.

"They... call us on burners. Voice modulator. No names, no faces."

Jackson gave a nod to Alistar, who gave a small nod back. The agent was being more compliant than either had anticipated. Jackson leaned in towards the agent, getting only inches from his face. "Where can I find more of your friends? You had to have organized somewhere."

The agent shook his head, keeping his mouth shut. This wouldn't do. Jackson dug his thumb into the bullet-hole in his right arm, and the agent squealed in pain. "Fuck! Warehouse A8... Hell's Kitchen."

Jackson gave a small smile, wiping his bloody finger on the agent's shirt. He had nearly all of the answers he could have asked for... except one. "Why were they after Ava? I get having me as a target... but why her?"

The Hydra agent gave a small smile. "She's our assassin... Guess she outlived her purpose." Jackson's persona of power shattered. He took a few steps back, making his way towards the door while pulling out his phone. He needed to warn them. as soon as possible. Before he could navigate towards the burner phone he had given Joc, the agent spoke up once more. "Cut off one head... another two take its place. You can't stop us... but Lester told us you'd try anyways if we didn't kill you."

Slingshot's blood ran cold and he darted out of the room with Alistar in pursuit. "Draku, we need to get the others fast. Here are the keys to a hog upstairs." He tossed the keys with precision, before calling after Sling. "I'll drive the Ferrari, you try the cell." Jackson shook his head as he was typing a quick text on his cell. "I'm taking my own wheels, it's faster than it looks." He joined the others in the elevator, pressing send on his text.

<We need a team meeting ASAP, we'll come to you. Where are you?>

The House of the Wayward Hero (DCU)

La Vida: Wayward House --> Lobby

---

Knight wasn't particularly fond of the scenario. He was far too close to the people who wanted to kill him to be fond of an unorganized attempt at "inspiring the people." Knight was a man of action, not one to sign up for some crusade to change hearts and minds. While Ashlyn was clearly older by about a decade, the teenage vigilante considered himself to be the only "adult" in the situation. And so, in his anger, he rejected the handshake and attempt at pleasantries. Instead, James readjusted the pack on his back. "It's clear that no one here knows how to run a team. I came her to solve a problem, not to sit around and talk about my feelings like this is kindergarten. If you think the gangs are killing families, I'll knock some head together and find out who's responsible."

He knew as soon as he turned his back and went towards the stairs he had made a mistake, but he'd just put it on his social tab. Another punch of powerful people who would get angry and try to kill him... quite frankly, they'd be far from the first and not nearly the last. Regardless, James wanted to get up to a room and set up his gear. He wasn't sure how this gang killing mattered, they happened all the time. It was a sad truth to shitholes like La Vida. Nonetheless, James deep down wanted to bring some justice, having been a little too familiar with families being murdered by power-hungry scumbags.

Once in his room, the teenage vigilante closed the door behind him and locked the door. He set the bag down on the floor and immediately got to work unpacking his things. The room was sparse, and the bed looked more comfortable than what he was used to sleeping on. Nonetheless, James began to remove his weaponry from the bag. Of course, he had his two swords, a katana and a Wakizashi. On top of this, he had an arsenal of various ninjutsu weaponry: A kusarigama, an ono, a few kunai, and a four-hooked kaginawa. James had a few modern additions: his vigilante gas mask that also helped hide his identity, a few tear gas grenades, various small explosive devices used as makeshift flash or smoke grenades... the kinds of things he could use to help make a quick escape or cause mass confusion. His former master had always warned him that it was the mind was the sharpest weapon, and the greatest way to defeat your enemy is to dull it. His former master had also lied to him his entire life and secretly ran a criminal empire... but you know, no one is perfect.

James sat on the ground and unsheathed his blades, pulling out a wetstone and sharpening his equipment. It was a calming action for him, and gave him ample time to think of a game plan on how he was going to start working on the gang issue that night. He ran through a list of local gangs in his head, and his mind wandered as he began to map out an attack plan...

Spider-Men

---

Jackson stood outside of the establishment. He wasn't clad in his typical apparel at three in the morning. He was, however, still wearing all black clothing. Sweatpants, a hoodie, and a black ski mask with eye holes cut out... he looked like a proper criminal. The teenager approached Steve's shop, noticing the lack of cameras outside and the lack of light emanating from the building. This was going to be easier than he thought. The teen tried on the front door, and of course it was locked. This wouldn't stop him. Jackson pulled out his cheap set of lockpicks and got to work, occasionally looking around to make sure no one was around. Within a few minutes, the door gave a distinct click. Jackson wasn't exactly one to break into places, but he had watched a few YouTube tutorials in case he ever needed to do something like this. Turns out it came in handy.

Jackson pulled out a small flashlight from his pocket as he entered the dark store. The faint smells that distinguished this place from most still lingered even after hours, apparently. The teenager made his way past the store shelves and made his way to the cash register. With a few button presses for a fake transaction, the register slid open. Turns out Steve didn't empty the register last night, so Jackson quickly bagged the money. It wasn't bank heist level, but a few hundred dollars was a fortune for a kid like him.

As he was finishing bagging the cash, a chill ran down his spine. Something was wrong... and Jackson's instincts kicked in, quite literally. A quick swipe of his leg knocked the shotgun out of Steve's hands, and a punch to the chest was enough to practically throw him a few feet into the wall. Steve was unconscious, and Jackson took a quick look around. He felt like an idiot when he noticed a small security device attached behind the front door... probably just to notify Steve if anyone entered. With Steve unconscious, Jackson felt no remorse as he went into the back of the shop.

Jackson never realized what had been happening behind the scenes. There was a small little workshop set up to work on guitars in one corner of the open "storage" space, but several tables filled with instruments and bags of various substances were what caught the teen's attention. It wasn't just weed... but Cocaine was apparently another one of Steve's illicit products. Of course, also in the back was a mattress with dirty sheets in the corner, along with a case of shotgun shells. Jackson had never realized the drug dealer lived in his own shop. Jackson approached the bed and lifted the matress, smiling as he noticed what lied underneath. A few hundred more dollars... enough to make the thief drool. He quickly went to work bagging the cash before noticing the security console nearby, dimly lit with a small alert on screen. It had detected someone entering the building, and was asking for confirmation to alert the authorities. Clearly Steve would never do such a thing, especially when the back of his shop was a drug-bust gold mine.

Of course Jackson had pressed "Yes" on the device before running out of the store and into the night to get back home, removing the ski mask when he was a few blocks away and tossing it into a nearby garbage can. By the time he got home, it was about 5 am. He snuck in through a basement window before sneaking into his bedroom, closing and locking the door. He removed his clothes and stuffed them deep into the pile of dirty laundry in the corner. He then reclined into his bed. He figured he'd be able to sleep in if he pretended to be sick. Greg was certainly still feeling guilty... and Jackson felt bad for exploiting him like that. But old habits die hard.