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feeling better :)
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2 mos ago
i have tinnitus forever. feels bad. guess i'll just have to get used to it
2 mos ago
Sorry for not being online...I've felt pretty terrible recently. now i have a headache and a bad case of tinnitus
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2 mos ago


me just trying to get into a superhero RP so I can RP as Spider-Man

we did it

Most Recent Posts


NED stepped carefully out of the shuttle. Sparing a passing, eyeless glance towards the first casuality of the battle, he raised the barrel of his weapon toward the ceiling. He was wielding a DLT-19 light machinegun in his two steel hands. A bandolier of extra ammo was slung over his shoulder and he had a belt with satchels and holsters attatched to it for extra storage. Stomping out into a clearing, he raised one hand.

"I am going to the Station's bridge. Nine of you will join me." He barely acknowledged the shortlived firefight that involved unprepared troopers getting gunned down in their unpreparedness. The droid was singularly focused on his objective. With newly acquired knowledge of the station's layout stored in his memory, he would make an effective leader navigating down to the powerplant.

After gathering his squad, the droid began to make his way first down the hallway, leading the soldiers from the front. "Everyone stick together. Beware of opening doors, and the two at the back keep a watchful eye on our six." He reminded his soldiers. He walked at a fast and steady pace, holding his machine gun level and low infront of him. They turned a corner and there was a locked portal infront of them. He had brought explosives with him, but that would make a lot of noise. Announcing their presence to the Imperials was not something he wanted to do.

"I'd like to get through this door without making too much noise, Scarlet Moons. Does anyone have any suggestions?" He turned to face the squad following him. One of them, a light-blue skinned Twi-lek, raised her hand.

"Yes, Private Dasiv?" NED looked toward her patiently.

"Uh, I'm an okay splicer." She shrugged.

"Excellent," Keeping his gaze on her, he pounded his fist on a nearby control panel, popping the thing open. Then, he stepped aside. "If you would, Private Dasiv," He said, gesturing to the now exposed control panel. Dasiv approached and began to work on it, occasionally glancing over at NED.

"Don't mind me, Private Dasiv. You are the expert here," He said after the third glance. The droid was focused on a life scanner device infront of him, scanning a few feet on the other side of the door for approaching Imperials. Standing front in center at the door, if anyone opened it the first thing they would see was NED. Most of the other troops were leaned up against a wall or behind some of the supporting pillars that emerged from the walls of the station.

She smiled nervously. "I'm no expert-"

"Eyes on the control panel, Private Dasiv," He reminded her.

Nodding, she worked her fingers across some of the wires. Just at that moment, NED detected movement just a few feet infront of him. "Pay attention everyone. There are Imperials on the other side of this door."

Dasiv gulped. "Okay, I got it."

"Open it." NED commanded.

The doors slid open. On the other side was an imperial officer, fiddling with a keypad on the other side of the door, accompanied by a few storm troopers.

"Bad luck," NED commented sympathetically to the surprised Imperials, raising his machinegun with one hand and firing. There was a hail of lazfire and the imperial troopers fell with smoking holes in their bodies. The droid stepped over them and continued his march to his current destination- an elevator. It would take far too long to walk to the bridge. If they were to be united with the squads approaching the bridge from other angles, they would have to be quick.

"Well done, Scarlet Moons." He flatly praised his squad, rounding another corner. Finally, they had found the elevator.

"Okay, Private Dasiv. Splice this elevator so we may stop in when we please. I have no plans on our elevator doors opening to a squad of Imperials lying in wait. We are going to stop the elevator just short of the floor we desire. I'll use a maintenance panel to climb onto the roof of the elevator, apply a breaching charge to the elevator doors, climb back down into the elevator while keeping the maintenance panel open. The breaching charge will detonate, creating a sizeable smoke screen. Then, I will throw a thermal detonator through the open hole of the maintenance panel, bouncing it so it will explode anyone waiting for us on the otherside. Then, you will ascend the elevator, open the doors slightly, and we can engage the foe from there."

Private Dasiv and the other squad members blinked. "Uh-" she began.

"Stop the elevator when I say, rise the elevator when I say. Trust me, Private Dasiv," He reassured her. Dasiv nodded. The elevator doors opened to an enemy, featureless room save for the command panel. Popping that sucker open, Dasiv quickly acquired manual control of the elevator. NED pointed to square imprint on the ceiling in the back corner of the elevator. That is the maintenance panel he knew had to be there. Jumping up, he pounded his fist against the panel and broke it open. Then, he jumped higher, rising through the newly created hole. With a shuddering thud he landed ontop of the elevator. He looked to the staggering height of the Crown's elevator shaft above him.

"To the bridge, Private Dasiv." He said, his voice echoing far above. With that, the elevator began to rise, the droid standing on top. Unorthodox breaching plan in his mind, the droid had little to think about except the battle ahead. Hopefully, their mission would succeed. This would be an excellent victory for the Scarlet Moons. Taking out the Crown and liberating Ord Thorden. His homeworld. It was a long time coming. Failure on this day would be unfortunate. Ord Thorden would be free one day, but NED would prefer he would be lucky enough to be involved in it's final liberation. He and his squad rose to the challenge. It would not be long before they reached the same floor as the bridge. They would be one of the few Scarlet Moon squadrons attacking the Crown's bridge. Success was necessary.
Annabelle Lafeyette

Annie nodded, "That's good to hear. Doug sure seems happy to hear it," she remarked, as the dog wagged it's tail and looked eager for infinite pats. Dogs were funny that way, it felt like they could do one thing that felt good until the end of the universe. Meanwhile, us silly humans get bored of something fun just because we've done it a few times. If only we were nearly as smart as dogs, Annie thought, smiling. The boy turned to wave at someone and Annabelle turned to see who it was.

"That a friend of yours?" One of them was clearly an adult though. Either way, she was heading that way. Too bad she never found out the kids name. Probably too late to find out now.

"Okay, well, see you around. Doug wants to keep going on his walk, I think." The schnauzer was turning in a slow circle. Careful not to get wound up, she began walking towards the kid and the woman who Annie didn't know was Pandora. As she approached and was looking to walk past them around the block she gave a little wave.

"Howdy," she called out, giving a friendly smile and a little too pleased with herself about her slightly unconventional greeting. The pair had actually gone to to the same school, and Anie squinted as she got closer, trying to remember where she recognized the woman from. Pandora was one year older than Annabelle, and Annie only knew about Pandora by reputation at best.
Jamie Teale

Teale leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. What the hell were these guys? Could they turn invisible? She turned on her comms to talk with Scott who she was flying in formation with.

Teale: "I dunno if we're gonnaAAAAGH! Fuck's sake!"

The woman cursed and jumped in her seat in surprise as a meat pinata exploded across her windscreen. Throwing up one arm in exasperation, she fruitlessly tried to wipe it away with her hands despite the fact it was on the other side of the window. Of course that wouldn't work, but it was better than doing nothing, right? She was powerless to get rid of this stupid bird corpse? Her face was turning red under her mask as she realised the entirety of Angel squad just heard her shout out in terror over a bird. Clearing her throat she stubbornly pounded the comms button with her finger and reported in.

Teale: "Angel Squad, this is Angel-2. A bird went splat on my window. Limited visibility for me, over."

Now she couldn't even tell what happened with those so-called Voyeurs. Most likely they got away as Angel-4 next to her wasn't looking to get into a dogfight. Fortunately as she was flying just underneath the speed of sound the bird was getting blown away by the wind. But it wasn't going away any time soon. Gross. So, so gross. Frowning, she glanced over at Valentine's plane in real life to try and see if he could see the bullshit that just happened. Upon making eye contact she gestured incredulously at the crimson smear on her windscreen. Sighing, she turned and flew back to the main fray. After a moment she started to make sense of what was happening. Both Felix and Lancer had gotten into one one duels with the other enemy pilots. Same issue as before- when two exceptionally skilled fighters got locked into combat it became difficult to interfere. Still, she scanned both fights for an opportunity. Her eyes widened and she clenched her jaw as she saw Lancer literally jousting with the Vlhakian imp he was engaged with. "Jesus Christ!" She exclaimed to herself, her comms off. Other than watch on, she wasn't sure what to do. More than anything she wanted to double team these fuckers but that might just make things worse. Any more of this and she would jump in, but for now she was hesitating.

Dareen Kahina

outskirts of the village

Dareen hadn't thought about that. As evidence by her bold entrance into the tavern where she had met Xandar not too long ago, she had never disguised herself or bothered to hide her presence whereever she went. Let them gawk, yet? Usually, though, she was just one merc in a crowd of many. Perhaps it was a bad habit. But...dolled up? The wording might hurt a more fragile ego's feelings. Passing as wealthy? She laughed outloud and pinced the bridge of her nose. "Oh, man. That's funny," she shook her head. After a moment she flattened her palms and shrugged.

"I think you overestimate my ability to blend in, Faeril. But I suppose I could give it a shot," Dareen wasn't proud. Still, there was something richly ironic and pretending to be the type of person she had spent her entire life trying to avoid being. The doting wife of some Warlord Prince, all done up and dainty. How much makeup would she have to put on just to cover up her tattoos? What kind of clothes would she have to wear? When was the last time she even put on makeup, period?

Jean and Dareen had been introduced to each other over the course of the carriage ride over here, of course. He and Fatima were close, she could tell, though the details of their relationship she couldn't quite discern. Either way, if everyone else paired off that would just leave Mikhail and Dareen, which would probably be one of the most suspicious couples in the universe.

"What do you think, Jean? Would I make a good noble?" She asked, turning to the man with a wry smirk on her face. She put one leg behind the other and lifted the sides of loose fabric and gave a little mocking bow. Clearly the kind of bow she had only seen whenever she saw someone else doing it, but that was part of her joke. Especially since she was dressed as a lightly armored nomadic warrior, all straps, tough fabric, and earth tones. The closet thing she'd ever worn to a dress was the long part of her tunic that came a few inches down her legs at most. Straightening herself she rolled her shoulder joints, as if such a pose, even done in satire, put strain on her body. Joking was all well and good, but she was wondering if she could actually pull something like this off. She was smirking but there were undertones of embarassment and nervousness in her body posture and voice. Though her good humor was genuine the apprehensiveness made itself apparent as she stared into the middle distance for a moment before glancing back between Jean and Faeril. Crossing her arms she took a few steps back and leaned against the carriage, subconsciously making it harder for any would be attackers to sneak up on her.

awesome. ya love to see it. ill be getting a post up soon!
Emily, or #2

Fort Hood, Texas, January 23rd.

Number Two's smiled faded from her face, the creature jumping in surprise as an ear-numbing roar blasted through the early morning sky. Eyes wide she stared toward the house as she fumbled for the back seat door of the car. Glancing over at her handler she scrambled inside, slamming the door shut and forgoing her seatbelt in her panic.

"What the fuck was that!?" She asked as their vehicle roared to life. Was Akasha right? Did they just summon a demon or something? Or was it just a noise? Maybe the bomb sounded like that? An explosion was something she could handle, but that did not sound right. The car sped away and Two's back was thrown against the cushion behind her. Not being able to help herself, her eyes were drawn to the back window and she watched the house as it grew smaller in the distance. Suddenly, several disgusting abominations crashed violently through the walls of the house. Two's eyes went wide as saucers and she laughed hysterically. "Oh, great!" Exasperated she sunk back into her chair, still shaking. Trembling, she buckled her seat belt and let herself fall deeper into the carseat until her chin touched the very top of her chest.

"Give the boys and girls in the lab my regards, Antoine. They really out fucking did themselves this time. I can't wait to have nightmares about that." She palmed her forehead, closing her eyes. Could that have been her? Did those...things...somehow come out of the canister? Or were those the people living in that house? And what the HELL was this little girl's deal!? So many things she couldn't even begin to understand. Either way her back was starting to hurt. Straightening herself in her seat, she pulled her shirt back over her shorts and ran her fingers through her hair. She was not getting paid enough for this. Oh, that's right, she wasn't getting paid anything. Those things were right on their ass! They only missed getting eaten by those B-movie horrors by less than a minute. Bombs weren't good enough, huh? Couldn't just shoot them in the back of the head in dark alley? Couldn't poison their tea with arsenic? No! That shit was too easy! We have to make sure they turn into demons from hell, the kind that brave knights kill and that visit children who don't brush their teeth.

Her heart was still beating a million miles a minute. They weren't even done yet. Maybe those monsters followed them, or maybe the army were coming after them for revenge. Perhaps that was the point of the monsters- to provide a distraction while the trio in the car made their getaway. Well, it would probably work. Who cares about a random car fleeing the scene when it was Attack of the Living Roadkill over there? Good, God above! Trying to collect herself, she pressed her palm against the window and squished her nose against the glass, looking to spot if anyone was following them.
Clara Cabello and Alejandra Jonas

September 7th

Crime doesn't pay.

"You know," Clara postulated, counting a stack of bills between her fingers,"I think some gangster a long time ago came up with that. That way it would scare kids so they wouldn't become gangster too, you know?"

AJ nodded, transferring stolen data onto her computer. "Sure, I can see that. Like how the vikings named the icey land Greenland, and the green land Iceland."

Clara smiled. "You know, I wish more countries were named like that. Like...Russia could be Hotland. England could be Dryland. Nevada could be Wetland, and Hawaii could be Bigland."

"Nevada and Hawaii are states, not countries."

"Well, hey, sorry I don't know the weather of all countries in the world, AJ."

"It's spelt W-E-A-T-H-E-R, not W-H-E-T-H-ER, Clara."

"Well- you-, what?" Clara shoved AJ back onto her sleeping bag and the younger girl giggled. "Smartass. That shit doesn't even make any sense." She shook her head, placing the catch in a purse. "That's 200 right there. A damn good haul, damn good haul. I knew all I needed to do was be a bit more, I dunno, risky. We got the talent, if we just push ourselves. Don't forget that, AJ."

AJ nodded, rolling her eyes. "Thank you, sensei."

Clara shrugged, "I'm just sayin'! You dump on yourself too much."

"Okay, sure. But, speaking of pushing ourselves, how did things go? You kind of brushed off my question when I asked earlier."
"Hey, sorry, but that's because nothin' happened."

"Nothin', huh?" AJ asked flatly, propping her self up on her right elbow.





"Here it comes."

Clara threw up her arms and fruitlessly shoved AJ's knee, laughing. "Don't be like that! It's just...hard to explain."

AJ sat up, furrowing her brow. "Okay, well...Try."

Earlier that day.

Clara Cabello was on a roll. Perhaps it was because any shred of worry or doubt she normally had when pick pocketing had been replaced. Whether it be by fear, confidence, or perhaps stupidity, Clara was aggressively picking pockets and swiping cash. A sizeable expertly folded wad of cash was growing in her back pockets. The excitement was palpable. But she had to contain herself, otherwise she would look suspicious. Peoples eyes were drawn to grinning idiots, right?

But as a handsome rich business man made his way down the street, his phone just pratically HANGING out of his back pocket, Clara couldn't resist. She grinned and dexterously swiped his phone and stowed it away.

Atleast, she tried too. What happened instead was what was currently stumbling future Clara's words. Her finger stuck to the guys ass, to put it crudely. A more accurate statement would be to say that yeah, her spider powers were activating, and this was just an embarassing and potentially dangerous coincidence. But Clara didn't know that. From her perspective, her fingers stuck to the bottom of his rich guys pants.

Clara tried walking away and the man stopped in his tracks. The two of them halted their momentum, and both turned around in surprise to look at the other. Clara looked with wide-eyed shock, and the man turned with righteous indignation. Gasping, he slapped her across the face, causing her sunglasses to fall off onto the concrete. Her mouth a small "o", Clara brought her fingers to her stinging cheecks. The man was flabber gasted that the woman assaulting him had yet to remove her fingers from his back. He tried to turn around but couldn't, somehow this woman was strong enough to prevent him from turning.

"Get off of me! What are you doing!?"

"I'm...I'm grabbin' your ass, dude." She said numbly, explaining the situation outloud to both herself and the stranger. At this point, several people stopped to look. How did this happen? Wasn't she supposed to be good at this? The man coughed in confusion, choking on his own words.

"Let go!" He palmed her face and started to push, but nothing happened.

"" She mumbled into his palm, trying to let go. Her fingers were not caught on his belt loop. She wasn't grabbing him. The very tips of her fingers were pulling the fabric of the pants toward her. Okay. Time to get violent. Something was wrong. She raised her foot and planted against his leg, pushing as hard as she could. Too hard. Harder than she could have imagined she could ever push in her life. Fortunately, the fabric gave way before the man's leg did, and her fingers had three different patches of pants on each one. Clara and the man went flying backwards several feet.

"What the fuck!?" He cried out, scrambling away and clutching the back of his now bruised head.

"Hey, sorry," She managed to shout out, dashing into a nearby alleyway. Her elbows were a little scraped. Like she had touched some wet bread in the sink, she frantically wiped away her fingers tips in an attempt to remove the fabric form her fingers. She succeeded after a bit and sprinted away, eventually assured she lost the trail. Breathing heavily, her cheeks red with embarassment, (so much for not having shame), she pressed her back against an alley wall and burst into genuine laughter. What the hell was that? Curious, she tried to glance down at her hands. Only to find that she couldn't remove them from the alley wall.

"Aw, sick, dude. Nice." She articulated her internal feelings outwardly as she tried to push away. Okay, okay. What was going on? This is just too weird. First the guys pants, now this wall. Was eveything she touched super sticky now? She sagged against the wall, exasperated. After a moment of this, her hands came free. Prancing away from the wall as if she had suddenly discovered a roach on the wall, she wiped her hands off on her hoodie. They didn't feel sticky. Her hoodie wasn't sticky. So, what's the fucking deal?

There was a discarded syrofoam cup on the ground. Gingerly, she kneeled down and extended her index finger towards it. It bounced off, rolling a few inches. Giggling, she did the same thing again. This time, it stuck. Wonderously, she brought the cheap cup up to her face and exanimed the fact that the tip of her finger was lifting this cup all by itself. I want. To let go. She thought. Let go of the crappy cup. Her eyes narrowed and she gritted her teeth. Let...go. No this wasn't working. She sighed, and the cup fell lightly to the ground. She felt it, then. A conscious effort. A relaxation of some invisible new muscle she didn't know the exact location of.

Curiously, she approached a nearby wall. Clench. Somewhere in her mind, the command word rang true. Her hand stuck to the wall. Release. And her fingers came away. Glancing around, she saw the sidewalk on her left. Receding further into the abandoned alleyway so no one could see her, she placed her hand on the wall. Pulling herself up- woah, pulling herself up was impossibly easy. Did she weigh nothing? She was a few inches of the ground. Instinctively she kicked out her feet, and lo and behold they two stuck to the wall. Right through her shoes. Laughing, she raised her left hand higher. Clench. Right hand and left foot up. Release. Left hand and right foot up. Release. She was two feet off the ground, now. Holding onto nothing. Tears came to her eyes and she held her forehead with her left hand, she laughed.

"What the fuck!?" She cried out in disbelief. Her heart began to soar. This was incredible. Was she dreaming? Had that man slapped her so hard she was sent off to la la land? One hand infront of the other, she ascended up the wall, a bug in an alley. Eventually she summited onto the roof and she rolled onto it, staring up at the sky and breathing heavily. She yelled victoriously, wiping her eyes and sitting up. What the hell, man? Why can she climb up walls? Was there no explanation? How was this possible? Her mind and heart were going a million miles a minute. Handstand! She thought. Easy. So easy, she could do a handstand. Her hands clung to the floor and she walked around. Was she stronger? More agile. Her hoodie fell upwards, revealing her abdomen. After a few seconds Clara fell to the ground and began to reset her hoodie when she thought of something. Her fingers brushed against her abs. Furrowing her brow she lifted up her hoodie and looked herself over. Damn! Was that a six pack? How had she not noticed before? Letting her hoodie fall down she examined her arms. Ripped! She was fucking shredded, dude! Since when?

Grinning, she jumped up to her feet. Time to get home. Question does she get down?

Easy. Fucking easy. Climb. Thinking that confident thought, she pointed her head towards the ground below her and, adrenaline pumping through her veins, began climbing down the side of the wall, staring at the concrete as it approached. Daringly, she reached the ground and detached her feet. Bending her heels over her head she front flipped off the wall and landed on her feet, throwing her arms up in the air like she saw the olympians do.


Dareen Kahina

outskirts of the village

Dareen felt a little awkward in the coach. She felt like she didn't quite belong, like there was something unresolved. Was it the room she wasn't supposed to see? The fact that up until a year ago she was an enemy sworn to kill the very people she had now allied herself with? Or was it just because she was just a weird person in general who didn't know how to get along with anyone except her mercenary corp? Perhaps it was the fact that the couch she was sitting in cost enough to make the penny pinching Pruul vomit. Enough to make the ride feel like a gift. Dareen always hated gifts. They made her uncomfortable. Debts and IOU's were the way of her old crew, so having someone to something for you for free was a rarity. Though Faeril was certainly among the higher class, Dareen doubted she had bottomless coffers. Especially under these dire circumstances. On the run, forced from her home...the nomadic mercenary couldn't imagine what that would feel like. It didn't help that having sympathy for other people was a skill she lacked practice in. A part of her brain that not long ago everyone around her told her was a weakness. Maybe this awkwardness was just a symptom of no longer feeling confident in her purpose or her surroundings.

Whatever the reason, the coach was preposterously expensive and Dareen made extra care not to spill or damage it in anyway. While she had wished to draw, she didn't want anyone to see her sketching. It was kind of private, so she kept the journal tucked safely away in it's little pocket dimension. For the most part she spent the trip staring gloomily out the window, resting her cheek on the heel of her hand.

When they arrived in the village, it was a familiar sight. War made most places look the same. One pile of rubble was difficult to differenciate from another. Abandoned. This place has no one to repair it, no one to take care of it. Time had taken it's toll, aswell as if not more than the blood soaked toil of warriors.

"Yeah, I agree. We should stop and see what there is to see." She said in agreement with the Black Widow Healer. Not to mention it would be nice to have a little rest from all the travelling and camping they had been doing over the last few days.
Jamie Teale

Jamie laughed to herself, relieved to see those assholes over at Cowboy squadron had shown up for reinforcements. This battle was in the bag. If Jackson could see them now, eh? Damn. Scott and Felix were doing great, and Lancer was off doing something on his own. Did he just call Felix...a white knighter? Truly, Angel squad was the best of the best. Shaking her head and smiling, she turned on her comms to defend the honor of Angel squad by insulting the cowboys.

Teale: Angel-2 to Cowboy squad, good to see you guys managed to fend off the tumbleweeds invadin' the cabbage patch you call an airbase, over."

She joked, though her heart hurt when they mentioned Jackson. Couldn't they tell he wasn't around? They'd find out soon enough, she supposed. Unlike her brothers in arms, Jamie never talked over the radio to the imperialist swine that crossed their borders. Waste of breathe, waste of words. She let her bullets do the talking. One by one she watched as Angel squad swatted the Vlhakian swines out of the sky. It all happened too fast. Did they really think this would be enough? No wonder those bootlickers empire was nothing more than stagnating pond scum to the south of the rest of the world. The retribution for this day would be swift. Already Jamie saw herself flying above the enemy's capitol. That would be a moment to remember...she was looking forward to it. It would come. If she's lucky she'll be alive to see it happen.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Lancer engage in a duel with the enemy flight captain. When two highly skilled pilots engaged like that, they became a whirlwind that was dangerous to enter or attempt to disrupt. Any interference could easily be turned against whoever decided to interfere. Plus, it looked like this was personal. But at the same time...maybe she could just blast that fucker out of the air right now.

For a moment, she was distracted, however. Who are these asshole? She thought to herself. Some invisible dickheads watching everything go down? What did they want? Scott was already chasing them off, though. To be honest, she could give a rats ass about whatever those guys were doing in the bleachers. Not like Jamie minded an audience.

Devil-2 turned to leave. Felix was right on his tail and looking to engage. That left Jamie kind of in the middle of everything. For a moment she turned her nose in the air to think of what to do. Felix was far away, and Lancer was in a duel. Cowboy squad had blown the last bomber out of the sky. That left Scott. He asked for help, and even those the voyeurs as he called them hadn't done anything yet, the last thing they needed was to get Scott shot out of the air when he was by himself.

Teale: "Copy that, Gravestone. Okay, Angel-4, I'm on my way. Who are these pricks, and what are they doin' on my lawn? ...Uh, over."

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