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Children of the Damned

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The late afternoon light lingered as the never ending maze of concrete and metal turned to a singular silhouette on the horizon. Telephone poles marked the sidewalks and cars that hadn't worked in years rusted in their place along the curb. The city, at least this part of the city, was falling asleep. The only sound other then cars passing by in the neighborhood was the fluttering of wings in a panicked way. There was a bird, a hawk, flying very close to the wall of an old red brick building. A trail of feathers hung in the air, gently wafting to the ground. With a shrill screech, the hawk flapped its one working wing, trying desperately to compensate for the limp wing that clung to his side. Suddenly losing the strength, it struck the wall and fell to the ground, flinching every couple seconds and trying to roll over, off its broken wing.  
 
A man, clad in red and black with a grey mask jumped down from the rooftop, landing gracefully on the ground. He glanced over and saw the dying bird at his feet. Broken glass crunched beneath his feet as he bent down to examine it. "Poor guy." he muttered to himself, gently lifting the broken wing with his finger and seeing a spot of blood and a hole shot through the wing, breaking the bone. "Some little punk thought he was cool, shooting you with a BB gun, huh? Don't worry, pal. You'll be alright." Using a rag from his pocket and some loose padding from a thrown out couch, Longshot made a temporary cocoon for the bird to keep him safe. As he secured the hawk, a sound struck his ear and he glanced around the corner. He saw a mass of people, men and women in suits, carrying microphones and cameramen trailing behind. There were news vans parked down the street. "He's over here!" one of them shouted, "This way!" said another. Where they after him? How? How could they have found him? He was about to run when one of the women called out his name, and when he glanced over his shoulder, they were already surrounding him, shoving their microphones toward him, flashes going off in all directions. It was unsettling, to say the least. "Longshot! Chanel 4 Boston! Is it true that you were present during the battle with Warsman in Lebanon, Kansas?" asked a woman. Longshot shielded his eyes from the lights and replied, "Uuh... yes."  Suddenly, there were questions coming left and right, "Why don't you have superpowers?" "Are you worried about the influence of vigilantism on children?" "Is it true that Warner Brothers is producing a saturday morning cartoon?" He tried to get a word out and the word was "GO AWAY." "Longshot!" shouted another reporter, a guy with greasy hair and a snazzy red suit, "CNN! Do you have anything to say about the rumors that you've assembled a team of other costumed crimefighters and are attempting to take the law into your own hands?" This was a question he was ready to answer. He leaned in close to the reporters face and said, with a frighteningly stern voice, "Yes. It's true. And we have a message to everyone watching this who thinks they're above the law, who thinks it's okay to steal or rape or kill. You are not safe. You will never be safe. We will not stop until we find you. Until justice finds you. Consider this your final warning. Stop now or we will come for you. Is that the answer you wanted?" A bit frightened, the reporter nodded. "Then let me get back to work." With that, Longshot turned from the horde of reporters, fired a grapple up to the roof and vanished. The reporters did their individual sign offs and he was long gone. 
 
FOX News Broadcast: Monday, January 4th, 2:00 PM 
Hi there, thanks for joining us. Well, this clip originally aired on CNN, but every channel has been playing it non-stop and it's all over the internet. This clip of the vigilante long labeled by the tabloids as "Longshot", it sounds Russian, I think he's Russian, he's Russian, stepped out of the shadows and made a public decree to criminals everywhere. Now, what does he mean by "above the law"? I mean, if I were to go out and take the law into my own hands, wouldn't that mean I was putting myself above the law? And what is he gonna do, kill them? Mr. Parks, your thoughts? 
 
Well, this man has proven, time and time again, that he is not a killer. If half the police force in the U.S. is corrupt, and you need a masked crime fighter to compensate, I think this is the kind America can trust. And there are countless metahumans, super powered individuals, who would otherwise become lost, they would take lives, they might turn to crime. They need mentors like this. They need people of their own kind to aspire to, like the Champions of Peace and Omega Justice. I mean, the numbers keep growing every day, these kids need someone to guide them. This is not a-a black and white w- 
 
I didn't ask for your opinion. 
 
Y-Yes you d- 
 
I DID NOT ASK FOR YOUR OPINiON! Now either you can support the idea that metahumans should be locked up and masked nuts like Longsho- 
 
I will not! I will- 
 
YOU CAN SUPPORT THE POLICY OF YOUR COUNTRY OR SHUT UP! 
 
I can't believe this! I believe that Longshot is doing a-a service to the world, and your first instinct is to- 
 
Cut his mic. We'll be right back. FOX News, Fair and Balanced. 
 

COD Headquarters, Midnight

 
 Longshot was sealed up in his room and sat at his desk, finishing the splint on the hawk's wing, the hole stitched up and the bone reset. "Good as new." he remarked, petting the bird's head gently and setting it down in a shoe box filled with cotton. "Get some rest, pal." he whispered, getting up from his desk and easing the door to his room open. He walked out across the hardwood floor and stood in the pale moonlight shining through the whitewashed windows. There was much on his mind now. He'd revealed the team, the media and the government were raving like mad in response, most of it negative. He'd most likely given them a whole new batch of ammunition against the hero community. But that was the least troubling thing on his mind. How did those news vans know where he would be and at what time? Who tipped them off? He slowly exhaled and turned, walking back into his room. Sleep would do him well. He lay down on his cot and drifted off to sleep, not knowing that in a workshop on the other side of town, a pair of hands were fast at work grinding down pieces of metal. The craftsmen examined his work, his face cloaked in shadow. He made not a sound, but it was apparent that he was pleased with his handiwork, a perfect replica of one of Longshot's arrows. He stood up from his stool and walked over to a work bench, sliding the arrow in the the rest of the quiver, which was at the end of a long row of weapons including a set of blades, a pistol, escrima sticks and an iron ball and chain, to name a few. Every last weapon was a signature weapon from a member of the C.O.D. The craftsmen stood over the work bench and remarked at his full myriad of weapons. At long last, he was ready. 
 

QUIS CUSTODIET ISPOS CUSTODES?

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.Riddick.

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#2  Edited By .Riddick.

Riddick thought about the events of the last two days. Revealing to the world the existence of the Children of the Damned, the scathing news reports. "So much negativity." He said to himself, then realised he was half way across the city from the Children of the Damned headquarters. A soldier walked over, clad in the armour of a Necromonger foot soldier. "Sir? Is there anything you require?" Riddick sighed. The soldier was his guard for this gentle stroll through the city. He turned into a dark side alley, gesturing the soldier to go back to Necropolis, answered with the obligatory, "Yes, my Lord Marshall." Not pleased, Riddick rubbed a hand over his bald head with a puzzled look on his face. He dropped his hand back to his side, and a gun was cocked right behind his head. "Give me all your money!" Riddick smiled, ducking and spinning around. He thought each move as he performed them with mechanical efficiency. Dodge under shot, leg sweep down to the ground. The man let out a grunt as the thump to the ground knocked the wind out of his lungs. Scissor kick to the wrist. There was a brutal snapping sound as the wrist broke. Knife slash. The ulaks swiped the air, severing the man's achilles tendons. Now he wouldn't follow Riddick. "Just another beautiful day in paradise."
 
In about 20 minutes, Riddick was back at the headquarters. He checked the clock. 12:25. He imagined most of the team were already asleep. Being a Furyan, he didn't need as much sleep as humans. He walked over to his own room, the walls populated almost entirely by bladed weapons. He cleaned the ulaks, getting all of the blood off of them before hanging them in brackets on the wall. He had this nasty feeling that the $#!^ was about to hit the fan, a chill ran right up his spine. Another reason he loved Earth, all the colourful phrases they used.  The Alpha Furyan sat cross-legged on his bed, wondering what the hell was going to happen now.

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wild cat

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#3  Edited By wild cat

    

12:00 P.M, Brooklyn streets.

   A cold breeze passed by a small area near a park. It seemed to be an abandoned warehouse, but there was something about that place that kept Ted going back for more; and what more does Ted love to do besides ladies, fighting of course. Fighting seemed to comfort him somehow, made him happy, it was his company. Though with the new teammates, and a new team, even they didn't make Ted comfortable. The sheer reason of why Ted was never that comfortable around teammates are still unknown, but the remedy for this lack of trust was fighting. And that he did, everytime he was free. The abandoned warehouse served as a fighting tourney, their basement was expanded and from the inside, it looked like any good stadium used to host boxing or mma matches. Ted wasn't no stranger either, in fact, he was a regular. It seemed that the C.O.D members could handle minor crimes from here to there, and that was the window Ted looked for. Wild cat, in a civilian attire entered the warehouse using the rear windows. As he headed down towards the basement, the cheers of fans got stronger and louder, the smell of blood, sweet, and tears became a stronger scent too. As Ted approached a large metal door, a big figure quickly stepped in front of him. With his hands up high, Ted stopped right away, making a squeaky caused by the friction of his rubber shoes suddenly being pushed to a halt in the cement floor. "I.D" The chief security commanded, Ted returned with a smirk and a case of cigarettes, "You should learn how to ask nicely Frank. And about the I.D joke, it's getting lame." Ted replied laughing.  "Well, I'm hopping it will catch up in all the fighters, your turn should be right after this match, and believe me..it's a boring one. Come right in." The bodyguard that turned out to be a close friend opened the door for him as Ted went through and headed directly to his locker room.
 
  One of the greatest fighters that ever lived, Ted Grant sat on one of the benches located in the locker room. Tings and tongs ocassionally sounded as lockers where closed and opened by other fighters. There was even some steam as the fighters took a shower, but even with the different sounds, a pattern of footsteps thudding echoed significantly. Finally, a man in a tuxedo appeared, strolling towards Ted and finally stopping just a few feet away from wild cat. "There he is! The man of the hour! Ted...we have more reporters than we even planned to book. " The manager said enthusiastically. "I though you were making this a private tourney?" Ted asked, confused by the new news he just received. "That was my original plan, but no harm on getting a little popularity boost right? Am I right?" The manager replied, with the same excitement he had earlier. Derek, their manager left with a big smirk on his face. Ted couldn't help but wonder why there where world class reporter in a tourney that was hardly known, even to this area. Ted wasn't the smartest man in C.O.D, but he hasn't received that many blows to the old cranium to be unable to think clearly. Nonetheless, Ted still wanted to put on a show tonight, and it was his turn to do so.
 
 "Introducing first, fighting out of the red corner, weighing over 298 pounds, and the current raining champion, with forty-four wins and three losses, Tiny!!!!" The announcer exclaimed, giving the fans the adrenalin rush they craved for. "Introducing next, fighting out of the blue corner, weighing 205 pounds, the challenger with a professional record of one hundred five wins and thirty three loses, Ted Grant!!!" The fans cheered even louder as they want to see Ted bring the annoying, cocky champion down. And Ted was planning to do exactly that. Flashes could be seen everywhere he looks, but in the eyes of a veteran, they were nothing more than lights. The referee signaled the start of round one, Tiny, which was a very inappropriate name and considered an understatement considering how much bigger he was and significantly taller than wild cat stood up without a guard, taunting Ted. And taunts where something Ted didn't like. 
 
Ted rushed forward bobbing and weaving finally, driving a straight with considerable power to Tiny's face. Blood squirted everywhere, but as Ted drew back his hand, Tiny seemed to be only angered by the punch. A disgusting smirk crawled upon Tiny's face and finally threw a jab jab combination with a lightning quick hook, all of which Ted took blindly. "For a big guy, he sure moves quick" Ted said under his breath. The punches had kicks in them, but wild cat didn't see anything yet, the man he once thought to be an easy catch dropped down and drove back up, thrusting his shoulders on Ted's abdomen. "Argh!" Ted couldn't help but shout as he felt Tiny's shoulders almost going through his abdomen. The fans became silent as they are witnessing Ted getting manhandled. But as Tiny was trying to take Ted down, wild cat was busy sprawling and squirming, finally Tiny shifted his weight to perform a power slam, and looked for an easy slam, but as they hit the middle part of the night ending slam, Ted managed to get his feet out and used it as a break. Their combined weight of 494 was supported by only Ted's aging feet. The fans screamed as they saw hope for Ted in this match up. "My turn" Ted muttered, as he forced two under-hooks in and bent back, Ted using his undying strength sent Tiny flying behind him. A big slam echoed through the arena, but before Tiny could regain composure, Ted ran and threw an uppercut, hitting Tiny's chin, the current champion's head flew back but still, conscious. What would come next was a mystery. But for the moment, Ted has the upper hand on the bout. 
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Daywing

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#4  Edited By Daywing

Crowds of people walked back and forth through this city, they stopped on cross walks waiting for the red lights to turn green and the second they did they were off again. This city was like one living organism, with a brain, heart and other organs and like every other organism, it had a chance of sickness. The germs of this city were the scumbags of the streets, the pimps, the drug dealers, the thieves, the murderers, the rapist, and of course the super Villains. This city was always at risk with getting sick, but with every sickness there is a cure, there are anti-bodies and to Ozzy, that's exactly what him and the other heroes were. Ozzy didn't always seem like it, but he was a smart man. He joked around and acted stupid at times, but he was a scientist, an inventor, a genius. So being on a superhero team wasn't really a question, it just made sense. No better way to stop the scum of the earth then with the help of others like him...well not exactly like him, no one really was. He trusted Longshot though, something about the way he acted the first time they met, against Don, Ray and Hester. Longshot was a respectable man, he had that type of aura around him, that you often felt off of a veteran of a war, he didn't mind following a man like that.  
 
Ozzy snapped out of his long winded thoughts remembering he was walking down the street, not as the Super Hero Umbra, but as the Attorney at law Ozzy Winters. He was walking with the crowds of people and it was strange for him, he was never meant to walk through the streets with these people, in a suit, holding a suitcase, talking on a blue tooth, he'd love to always be Umbra, but he just couldn't. After his parents death-- After his parents murder, he became his seventeen year old brother's guardian and even though he was only twenty six he accepted that responsibility, he would protect his brother whether it was from being in a foster home to being attacked by the evil organization Link Tech that took him as a soldier and murdered his parents. That's why he didn't tell his brother about his double life. Oz had no powers, but because of his skills he was stupid enough to become a hero and he didn't want his brother to follow his footsteps. He snapped out of his thoughts again realizing he was a few buildings away from his business that he owned, Winters Private Law firm. He raised an eyebrow passing a few news vans and he realized a crowd of people were in front of his building with Microphones and cameras, did something happen? Was another famous or infamous human being looking for Ozzy's help? He held his breath deciding he had to go to work and he'd walk past them going inside, he was a little wary when he saw the people pointing at him and that's when the questions started.  
 
"Ozzy! OZZY! Is it true?" One of the new's caster yelled pressing a microphone to his face, "Do you think it's okay what your doing?" Another yelled pressing a microphone as well, what the hell were they talking about? "Do you really think Boston needs people like you?" Another yelled, Um felt a pain in his stomach starting to realize what they were talking about, but he pushed through just in case he was wrong. "So do you heroes actually stop real crimes or are you guys just Super Veterinarians like your old pal Longshot?" Umbra stopped, remembering the Hawk that Longshot was nursing and the comments he made that had turned them public, "Huh Umbra?" A grin spread across the brazing news casters face as he stared at Ozzy's back. Ozzy turned around with a smile so quickly it scared the news caster and he stepped back into the crowd. "Ha! your calling me a superhero? as if." He stepped forward to the crowd and they stepped back, "I assure you I am not a masked vigilante, but I'm one of the greatest Lawyers of the country and before that I am a guardian of a seventeen year old brother, and I will do anything to protect him, so if I am continued to be accused of such a ridiculous accusation, I will be forced to be more legal about the matter, people will lose jobs, news companies will go bankrupt, all because you think it's your best interested to wrongfully put me and my loved ones in danger over a stupid rumor. So any more questions?" He stood for a moment and hearing no response he turned around heading into work.  
 
He walked into his job, all of his employees were talking, moving, doing their jobs, but the moment they saw him there was nothing but silence. He smirked "Hey guys I heard I was a superhero, who wants to be my Robin?" No one said anything, but maybe all at the same time they realized how stupid an idea of Ozzy Winters, a man that couldn't even settle on one woman or come to work on time, being a masked hero with no powers, only fighting skills and crazy inventions. They started to laugh, some even telling lame jokes calling themselves, Longshot, Overkill, Eclipse, etc, etc. He barely listened a weak smile on his face as he questioned how the hell did they find out he was Umbra? He might have tricked the new's casters into believing him, but something in the back of his mind kept telling him "Someones going to be on your @$$." But then again, if this was found out, maybe someone already was.  
 
12:00AM Saint Peyton's church 
Umbra had stumbled upon this church when he first moved to Boston and he rather enjoyed it. He wasn't a religious man at all, a man of science actually, but this was quite a beautiful building. He didn't only come for the elegance of it though, it was a great point of view on top between two gargoyles when looking over the city, especially in the night and it also was a great place to clear his mind. He wouldn't think about how his secret identity was almost blown to the whole nation, he wouldn't think about how he went home and his brother had seen the new's coverage and even though he also saw the retraction his brother still knew the truth and he wouldn't think about who had found out about Children of The Damned or his secret identity. He was a smart man and he would think of this later, now was the time to patrol and fight back the disease and as he thought, he heard sirens scream, like a calling for him. He shot a grappling hook as he headed towards the gunmen in the car, chased by the lines of cop cars.  

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.Longshot.

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#5  Edited By .Longshot.
CNN News Broadcast, January 15th, 5:00 PM 
  
 
Welcome back. For those of you who are just joining us, just a short time after the vigilante known as Longshot made a public statement revealing the existence of a team of unlicensed crime fighters operating under the nose of the American people, three murders have taken place. All took place at the scenes of attempted rapes and grand theft autos. The murder weapon for two of these murders was a bow and arrow. Forensic scientists have identified the arrows as an exact match for arrows usually found in the legs, shoulders and lower abdomens of Longshot's previous victims. Has the allegedly non-lethal crime fighter gone over the edge? Perhaps a more frightening fact in this case is that the third murder was committed by a crushing blow to the head by a blunt object. The official forensic report shows that the radius of the caving of the victim's skull and the force of the blow matched that of a common ball and chain, the weapon wielded by an unidentified hooded vigilante who was one of the many who aided Longshot in the earthquake panic of last year. Now, members of the vigilante community outside of Longshot's secret team could not be reached for comment. However, we have-oh- there's been an update. Two more murders have surfaced in the last several hours. Now, details are sketchy as of right now, but the police have released what knowledge they have so far. The first victim had his wrist and both kneecaps broken by blunt objects, followed up by broken ribs and a snapped neck. There was an eye witness who claimed that a young man, approximately 5'9'' with black hair in a dark blue suit and mask, jumped out of the shadows and struck the man on the wrist with a baton or an escrima stick of sorts, then swung another and broke his knees, simultaneously kneeing him in the chest. He then snapped the man's neck and vanished. The primary suspect in this case is Umbra, who aided Longshot in quelling the rampage of three metahuman criminals in downtown Los Angeles last month. The other murder took place not too far from where Longshot was first contacted by CNN, in the slums of South Boston. Now, originally, this was considered a suicide. But when witnesses realized that a man in a coat and black mask was manipulating some sort of illusion in the victims mind before he shot himself, it was labeled as a murder with the prime suspect, another accomplice to Longshot. We'll keep you updated. You're watching CNN, the worldwide leader in n- 
 
 
Longshot turned off the TV and tossed the remote onto the couch. He stood up, nostrils flaring as he paced back and forth in frustration. As upset as he was by the compromising of the team's secrecy and the alleged murders, there was finally a connection. Someone had tipped off the reporters, someone had committed all these murders with the intent of framing members of the team, someone was plotting against them. Longshot believed that the most effective way to win a fight was to let the enemy make every move in his arsenal before throwing a punch. Whoever this someone was, he wasn't finished yet. He would have a killing blow, and when he did, he would be exposed. It was all about time. And Paxton had all the time in the world. 
 
His ear twitched and he walked to the window, sliding out into the brisk late night breeze. The abandoned streets of Boston below were just that, empty. Still, the faint sound persisted and he leaned out, inching along the windowpane and finally saw it, the light of flashlights and the sound of chanting. There was a mass of people far down the way, marching a protest against whatever was in the building. With a quick zoom in from his eyepiece, Longshot read the signs and they said some pretty hateful things about him and the team. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized they were picketing outside the dummy house. He'd marked an empty building similar to the actual HQ with much more obvious signs that it was home to a team of heroes. It obviously had the desired effect and they were shouting and marching around the wrong building. He examined the crowd and suddenly, he saw a straw and burlap effigy of him hanging from a rope tied to a long pole. Suddenly, there was a flash of orange light as the dummy Longshot was set ablaze. He grimaced a bit at the barbaric sight and slipped back inside. 
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thegreatfour

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#6  Edited By thegreatfour

The orange afternoon sky lit up the Boston streets. Cars honked in the overwhelming traffic and the drivers swore at the drivers infront of them and then responded to the drivers from behind who was swearing at them. Some who did not have a car or did not want to face such terrible traffic walked and crowded the sidewalks doing so. They were most likely heading home from a tiring day at work now. There were also homeless men and women preying on the cars stuck in traffic to beg or even clean the unlucky vehicle's windows with a worn, dirty rag. It was just a normal day for Boston. Most people wouldn't believe that just a few months ago there had been terrible devastation wrought by mother nature. People breaking into houses and stores, some of their own getting trampled as they ran from one building to the next. It had been, terrible, horrifying, infuriating and disgusting. Some people down there could have participated in the event, killed and stole and hadn't been punished. They may pretend it never happened, that it was all just a dream, but not everyone. Someone had to make them pay.
 
Peter McCormick walked through an alleyway.It was dim and for some weird reason smelled like moldy cottage cheese. Even though he would usually shy away from these creepy places, he had a duty as a reporter to bring the facts straight from the lions mouth and by golly he intended to do just that! He'd received reports of muffled screams coming from this alley and it might just lead him to the man he wanted to see. Peter bent his knees so he was closer to the ground making his footsteps harder to hear. He didn't want to surprise the man, but there was a chance it wasn't him and was a psychopath or serial killer, hopefully if that was the case he would see the person first and sneak out of the alleyway unnoticed. Peter crept along the alleyway, only stopping to adjust his thick glasses on the bridge of his noes. 
 
Just up ahead Peter managed to make out a rather large figure standing to the brick wall in the shadows. With his poor eyesight Peter couldn't make out the details. After a few seconds of staying silent he wondered just what the heck he was doing! He was a reporter darn it! He had to get the news even if it cost him an arm and a leg. Peter cleared his throat to get the large figures attention. It turned around slowly then waited in the darkness, not responding. Peter could feel his heart beat speeding up. This was a bad idea, very bad. Still he carried on. "Hello ah, Ball and Chain is it"? he asked. The 7 foot figure remained mute, but gave him a slight nod. Peter gave a sigh of relief. He shouldn't have as it could be seen as offensive, but he was just happy that he wasn't going to be murdered. "Well then Ball and Chain I would like to ask you a few questions. If you're uncomfortable with this the interview feel free to leave. I'm ah sorry for having to do this here, but anywhere else would get you arrested", his voice wavered with his nervousness. The vigilante now identified as Ball and Chain still remained in the shadows, but his stance seemed to become relaxed. " I would be delighted to tell the world a bit about myself" he replied in a deep voice befitting his size. Peter was shocked at how politely someone described as a serial killer had answered. "Well ah okay then. Lets begin" he pulled out a note pad and paper, ready to jot down Ball and Chains every word. 
 
"Okay first question. You're described as a vigilante and a serial killer. Which is it"? Sweat rolled off Peter's forehead. He prayed to god the man didn't take offense. The lord must have heard his prayer because Ball and Chain in fact, did not " Well I suppose some could see me as a serial killer. I rarely explain why I take someones life. I assure you that my intentions are to rid the city of a few infestations here and there. One comparison would by I am to criminals as Maids are to dirt" he replied calmly. Peter put off for a second. Was that a joke? "Okey Dokey then. Next question. Why do you kill your ah victims"? The Ball and Chained vigilante  tilted his head to the right. "Isn't it obvious? It's my purpose. I am merely a tool used to uphold the law. Killing is just more efficient. For example"... BC interrupted himself as he bent over and picked up something that Peter couldn't make out in the shade. The journalists eyebrows rose and he covered his mouth as to not breath in the stench as BC moved the heavy limp object out of the shadows and into the light. It was a corpse. It's eyes rolled back in it's sockets and the mouth open wide as if it were frozen in time, trying to scream for help. The vigilante held onto the dead man by the neck. "Do you remember the Boston earthquake? Many people don't. Most are too ashamed because they took part in the crimes that occurred by what had once been average citizens who had never been involved in criminal activities beforehand. This man here raped and murdered an 18 year old girl during the chaos of those riots and then he got away with it, but he left behind evidence that finally lead me to him. Now ask yourself if he could that again would he be able to"? Peter was to in shock to open his mouth. All he gave was a shake of his head. "Correct. He is dead. Therefore he can not harm anyone. Do you have any other questions"? Peter answered through the hand covering his mouth, his voice quivering. "Y- yes. I believe I do" 
 
Peter stumbled through his mind trying to find what the question was. That dead body was awfully distracting. He found it in a corner of his mind and spouted it out. "T- there are reports of you working with the hero Longshot. Are you affiliated with his team he has just revealed to the public. The ah Children Of the Damned?" As Peter waited for an answer he realized just how little emotion the giant that stood before him showed. As it turned out the vigilante was interrupted before he spoke. Peter's cellphone began to vibrate in his pocket. Happy for a distraction from the dead body, Peter hastily reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone, almost letting it slip out of his sweaty hands. He opened it up and placed it to his ear. "Oh hey. Yeah I was just- wait what? No seriously... A mob at the COD headquarters!? I can't believe-" The Journalist was again awestruck by the vigilante he had been talking to, jumping maybe twenty feet into the air and landing onto the building beside them. Peters jaw had dropped and he was still staring at where BC had been over his head. He still had the phone up to his head. "Oh new story. Had a talk with a member of the Children Of the Damned... Did he tell me? No... Oh I just got a gut feeling is all"

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.Riddick.

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#7  Edited By .Riddick.

Riddick shook his head at the news report, stepping out of the shadows. "Well, boss." he said slowly after Longshot had clicked the TV off. "Looks like we have a copy cat." His mouth was a hard line as he stepped outside, not phased by the Longshot effigy. The only thing between the mob and the real one was Riddick's massive body. The whole mob took ina collective breath as Riddick's gaze, hidden behind the thick lensed goggles swept over the crowd. The door closed with a thud, seeming to break the spell of silence that had fallen over the crowd. Several reporters were instantly at the bottom of the stairs. "Riddick? Is it true you are an illegal alien?" Riddick looked at him, then opened his mouth. "How do you know my name?" Another reporter thrust a microphone in Riddick's face. "Riddick? Haven't you previously been in prison?" Riddick took a breath as he walked forward. "Yes I have." The reporters weren't picking up the hint Riddick was hurling at them. "Riddick? Is it true that you destroyed your home planet?"  
 
That was the last straw. Riddick turned, grabbing the reporter by the neck and lifting him from the ground so that his feet swung helplessly in the air. Aware that cameras were on him, Riddick dropped the man, who landed with a loud thwump! "I don't know who your sources are, but you are misinformed." The reporter stood up, thrusting the mic back at Riddick's face. "Is it not true, that you have committed several murders?" Riddick shouldered his way through the mob, swung his ulaks into his hands and leaped up, cutting the dummy Longshot down. "No more questions." He barged his way through the rest of the mob and, reporters in tow, walked into the city. He could already see the headlines, "MAD ALIEN ASSAULTS REPORTER!"

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Bloodstone

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#8  Edited By Bloodstone

Selene walked through the city lost in thought. A few hours ago a lot of the securities of Children of the Damned had failed. Whoever leaked the details had guaranteed that everyone who worked for C.O.D had been revealed. Possibly they would even know who the identities of the heroes were. The real question though was who was the cause of it all? Selene didn’t care if the world knew of the team or even identities really she felt confidant she could sway the judgment in their favor. Who was it though, who knew so much about them? It was fair enough to say it wasn’t the result of one of the team so far they had felt reliable. Someone however knew about them and she didn’t like it.

She continued onward her mind running miles a minute, oblivious to the people around her. Normally she would pay attention to every minute detail now there were bigger concerns. Then came the news crew. She found herself instantly bombarded with questions. She couldn’t decipher who asked what between the countless comments. The flashing lights from cameras and constant noise nearly giving her a migraine. She looked at them with annoyance “would you please shut up.” She smiled “let's try discussing this like regular people what do you say an interview at noon rather than all this?” One of the women agreed, designating an area so far they hadn’t made this too big of a mess. Hopefully she could meet up with them and clear this up before things got carried away.

12:05 PM

 Selene turned the corner and walked into the coffee shop. Usual smell and appearance of such a place. The crowd was minimal it was all seemingly standard, she arrived dressed in the usual black tank top and jacket. Her black hair hung loosely over her shoulders in her opinion there was no need for flashy costumes when your job included being the bullet magnet. She had arrived roughly five minutes late, by the looks of it the news caster had arrived twenty minutes early. She seemed to have made herself at home. Her auburn hair was neatly tied back accenting her sharp facial features. The clothing she wore was grey in color and formal. Taking a seat Selene grinned brushing her ravenous hair behind her hair as she took a seat. 

“This is Natalie Setem from the channel eleven news reporting with an exclusive interview with Bloodstone. So Selene you’re a member of Children of the Damned are you not?” She resisted rolling her eyes in annoyance with the obvious questions. “As you know already I’m Selene Celist aka Bloodstone and yes I’m a member of C.O.D. We preferred being in secret but since you’ve made us public by whoever your sources are I’m not going to deny it.”

Natalie smiled “So Selene before I go into discussing you and your opinions on vigilante acts I would like to ask about your take on your team mates” Selene nodded in agreement. “So what is your opinion on your leader Longshot? I don’t know him well but I would assume you in fact do.” She smiled as she leaned forward. “Longshot is far from someone to be concerned about, unless you’re a criminal. The man is out to aid the world not cause chaos, I fully believe he’s one who would give his life to protect any of us and rather die then use excessive force on anyone.” She prepared herself for the next question.

“So Daywing rumor states may have been the cause of a rather grim moment in the past. Now we know him to be on your team how do you feel about him?” Selene found this to be just as simple as the one on Longshot. “Daywing I believe to be the only person as dedicated to the preservation of life as myself. He isn’t going to part with this job any time soon and I’m confidant a lot of good things will come from the man. If he sticks around he’s sure to be a useful partner in things to come.” That was two team members down and five to go. So far it was smooth sailing and tracks were covered.

“Now Wildcat a lot of us are familiar with. His boxing reputation precedes him. A strong fighter but don’t you think it reckless to have someone on your team who is part of a blood sport? That and he’s seasoned on a few accounts he seems to have been contemplating the idea of choosing to retire. Do you support his choice to continue fighting both in and out of the ring?” This question was more than opinion it was an assault on morals as well. “Do I support a father fighting no he should go and be with his child that is simply obvious. However the man is stubborn he won’t quit for awhile. That is part of this teams valor it’s not about us it is just about other individuals. Wildcat is out to stand and fight for other family figures to be safe. If he isn’t going to quit then why should I suggest it.” She had pulled through another verbal quarrel was time for the next.

The news caster smiled “Good with words it would seem Bloodstone so next I want to know your opinion on Black Jacket. Rumor also suggests he does in fact have a relatively dark past as well is this the case?” The woman smiled feeling confidant here as well, so far Natalie had worked down the list based on who she felt was most all around reliable on upholding the law. Wasn’t necessarily the reporter’s intent how was she to know. It was the facts however “Black Jacket I will admit I have concerns on.” She paused “this is not because he isn’t reliable it is because I think he may leave the team when he has obtained what he is after. I won’t discuss that topic however that’s personal. The man has a care free nature I wouldn’t bother to feel threatened by him.

Natalie looked a bit bummed out that she had yet to get anything negative. “So then what about Decoy if my memory serves me correctly he had done a good bit of shooting during the earth quake and riots some months back?” Selene shrugged a bit as the question was asked. “Decoy is an enigma in every since of the word. He doesn’t say much has a tendency to go out on his own and yes dose use a gun. What I do know is this he isn’t a killer he may be on the edge of seeming hostile from some reports but from the little bit of time I’ve spent by him I can say he is reliable.” Decoy was one of the few she knew well but she did feel confident in her response.

The reporter adjusted in her seat and brought up the next question ”what about Ridick? He isn’t known by me other then rumors of being a mass murder.” Selene didn’t like the idea of naming her team members a murderer then again she knew the least about Ridick. The answer though she did have. “Ridick has escaped conversations with me so far and I have yet to work beside him. However this ‘murderer’ has chosen to work for people fighting to uphold law. Mass murders don’t have a knack for asking to uphold order.” The two women laughed a bit there was a point there.

“On to the last team member you have. Tell me Selene is it safe having Ball and Chain even around? I believe he was once labeled the Ball and Chain Killer or at least someone similar to BC’s description was.” That title was the reason Selene felt he was the least likely to uphold the laws of today. The good part of this however was the simplicity he supported which would allow her to make a strong argument. She knew his secret she was one of the few he had told. What she would say in the next sentences would be a bit of a mix of half truths if you will. It would be effective however. “The Ball and Chain I know is one who feels respect and compassion he’s one of if not my closest friend of the team. He isn’t some inhuman monstrosity he feels just like you and I and I hope you don’t think otherwise. Now I get that you think he is a killer and who knows perhaps he is but think who he dose kill. The man I know isn’t going to murder a random thief. No if he were to kill it would be for example a man whose sins were born months ago when rioting and crime ran through the streets. He raped a woman made her feel week and afraid. In what had occurred she found herself felling defeated and vulnerable, broken and ravished. Her lover left her feeling she was no longer beautiful she cuts her skin feeling desecrated. Now if you know criminals you know the vast majority do not stop once they have begun. The crime becomes a way of life the pain that young woman felt would go on; Put yourself in her shoes or better yet your child. In just the thought what runs through your mind.” Natalie looked down hiding her anger the idea obviously vivid. “I’m not going to say it’s right I won’t say the man had it coming but was society better with or without the horrible person? It’s easier to justify the death of a man with no heart then condemn an innocent.”

Selene smiled knowing she had some of the best answers to the questions being posed. Natalie was seeming to enjoy this conversation as well. “So your team covered what about you. You gave up being a police officer, why? Casualties also happened in the Civil War long ago what is your thoughts on that?” It was her turn to look away Selene couldn’t help but feel distraught by that. Looking back to Natalie and the camera she smirked faintly after taking a moment to collect herself. “After the death of my husband I felt separated from the rest of the force. When I died and was given these abilities I knew I could be more. My jurisdiction could go further than a police district I could put myself as a shield before others. My name means something, a bloodstone is a jewel something to treasure. Blood is the essence of life, through it we live, life is short. Stone is something strong and good for building defenses, defender of the treasure of life in other words. You already know some give me the nickname Immortal Martyr. This is because I will die a million times to protect who I can. And I don’t mean just friends or you but rather everyone. Good or bad I want to keep who I can alive as long as possible. Not to boast that I’m something special but because I know how short life is better us heroes then you better someone who can heal most wounds then a mortal.”  She smiled before going to the next question the one that truly made her mournful. “Wars hit home and are tragic to all. In the mist of the battle I had with Solace some lives were lost. People died by the reckless acts and I’m one responsible to such despair. I desperately wish I could reverse what I did; my error makes me weep its evident to me and you. As of now the world needs us heroes but if it seemed there was no use for me I would give myself over willingly. Take the punishment a hundred times if need be.” She wiped her eyes finishing her moment.

 Natalie smiled glad with the response. “One last question if you will Selene. What is your response to the claims C.O.D are vigilantes? Is it right that you take law into your own hands?” Selene leaned back in her seat. “Yeah it is, the military and police are essential. Everyone including them however will confess they have no means to tackle the greater threats. It is up to those of us with power to fight the grand forces that would aim to cause ruin. It would be great for there to be no such darkness. There is however and because of this those like C.O.D and even the other heroes are needed. It isn’t about being the best it is about making the best. Thank you for your time Natalie.” She offered the reporter her hand who took it graciously. “That was Bloodstone of the Children of the Damned a woman short in stature but certainly making up for it in spirit. This is Natalie Setem of Channel Eleven saying the Dammed have at least one new follower.

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George Silver

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#9  Edited By George Silver

 "What the hell is going on here?" Calder asked himself as he exited an alleyway and made his way to his job. That late afternoon he had opened the door of his apartment only to discover a crowd of reporters waiting outside. Calder had a bad feeling, so he quickly closed the front door before they spotted him and went out the back way, now having to sneak around the back parts of town to evade them. It took him an extra half-hour to get to the diner he worked at, and as he pushed open the doors to walk in a little boy ran up to him.

"Wow you're that bug man on TV!" the child yelled, causing everyone else in the diner to look up and stare at him. Most of them stopped eating and stood up to leave at this point, and a woman came to collect her child. Calder widened his eyes in shock and wondered how this boy knew who he was, but before he could ask the young boy was already being whisked away.

"Stay away from him Sam!" the exclaimed with worry as she grabbed her boy by the arm and led him out of the diner. By now the place was mostly empty, besides the few people who stayed and simply stared at him. Calder looked around for a second, trying to think about if what he feared was happening was true before rushing to the back room to put on his apron and start cooking. When he got there he was met by his boss, Dexter, who didn't look too happy to see him.

"I know that I'm late, but I have a good excuse this time Dexter." Calder began trying to explain as he threw on his apron, "You see I was going outside today and-"

The portly middle-aged man who owned the small diner raised his hand to stop Calder from continuing, "You're fired Calder." Dexter spoke in a calm and collected voice, "I'm letting you go, and for good this time."

"Look, I know that I was late again, but-"

"Not because of that Calder," Dexter walked over and put his hands on Calder's shoulders, "You're a good kid, but I can't have you bringing all of this potentially bad press to the place."

"What are you talking about?"

"You ever watch the damn news kid? They said that you're that vigilante 'Black Jacket', and that you work for that group of weirdos the Children of the Damned." Calder's eyes once again widened with shock with the realization that his worst fear was now realized, and he plopped down on a crate, "I'm sorry Calder, but I have to fire you so that no news reporters show up calling me a supporter of vigilante nut-jobs. I hate to do it, but it has to be done. I'm sorry kid, but it's all I can do."

"I...understand." Calder stood up and took off his apron, handing it to his boss, "I'm going to miss you Dexter. See you later I guess." With that he quickly walked out of the diner, turning to look at it just one last time before rushing off into an alley. If there really was a huge leak of the team's identities, then the reason for the reporters outside was clear and he had to find the rest of the team ASAP. Calder was angry enough to kill whoever released their identities, having now put their loved ones, like his grandfather, in danger. Even so, he knew that for now he had to be calm, and that his chance to get revenge would come soon.

As for now he had to get to his team, but first he pulled out his cellphone and called his grandfather. Calder told him about the news reports, and told his grandfather to be safe before hanging up. He spent the rest of the afternoon moving through the back parts of the city, and as the skies got darker he came out of another alley and right in front of the headquarters building. He quickly moved inside and rushed upstairs, spotting his team boss and moving beside him.

"What the hell is going on Longshot?!"he yelled angrily, "How do they know about our identities?!" He moved so that he was in front of his leader, pointing a finger in his face,"I bet it's your fault for that damn announcement you made on TV! Now everyone we know is in danger, and we can't do anything about it because you had to try and scare the scumbags!" He knew in his head that it wasn't really Longshot's fault, but he had to just get some anger out of his system. 

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Decoy Elite

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#10  Edited By Decoy Elite

Decoy's shadow loomed over the cowering criminal. The man had been cornered into a small alley, surrounded by large apartments. "Get back! Get back or I'll shoot!" He yelled pulling out a gun. "Wrong move." Decoy calmly replied as the man fired. The bullet went strait through the decoy, as a new decoy appeared and slammed the gun out of the man's hand. In reality, the man had tossed the gun himself, one of the many victims of Decoy's illusion powers. The decoy stood over the man, a knife in it's hand. "Talk." It said calmly, lowering the knife to the man's neck. The criminal was quick to betray his allies, explaining their plan to rob a museum that night. The decoy backed away with a slight nod. "I ever see you involved in this kind of sh!t again and you'll be vomiting out your own intestines." Decoy knew he wouldn't have to act on the threat, the idea alone was enough to keep someone like this kid off the streets for at least a while.  
 
Decoy arrived at the museum, gun in hand. He climbed his way to the top of an adjacent building, ready to use his new grappling hook to make his way onto the roof of the museum. But his plan was cut short when he spotted the bodies. They were all on the ground around the back wall of the museum, looked like they'd jumped. Decoy sighed as he made his way down from the building and headed to the corpses. 3 dead, all from a large fall. Had they tripped and fell during their climb up the museum wall? Decoy looked around, spotting no rope. Decoy decided to leave this one to the police, let them do their job for once. That's when the the lights burst on and the sirens began to wale. "Son of- A SET UP!" Decoy yelled, dashing away form the bodies as bullets whizzed by his head. He quickly produced a group of decoys to distract the police as he cloaked himself. He quickly rushed past the police as they fired at the illusionary targets.  
 
Decoy found himself in an abandoned apartment complex, as he pulled out his CoD communicator. "Team, come in. I've got issues right now. Someone tried to frame me for some murders."  Decoy was soon met with a semi sarcastic reply. "Well then, that's the second time that's happened to you today." Decoy's eyes widened. "WHAT!?"

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.Longshot.

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#11  Edited By .Longshot.

Longshot was working diligently at his desk, trying to put all the bad press and the far off chanting of the protesters out of his mind. He turned from his work when he heard someone walking down the hallway. Riddick had gone to meet the protesters then gone back out into the city. At this point, he was all alone and he hadn't heard anyone come up the elevator or open a window. He opened the door and stepped into the open area of the base, looking around and seeing no one. He was torn from his suspicions as he heard someone walking across the cold cement floor below and pulling open the rickety iron framing of the elevator. The elevator came up and Black Jacket stood there, fists clenched tight enough that he could hear the leather of his gloves rubbing together. He through open the gate and stormed out, getting right up in Longshot's face shouting, "What the hell is going on Longshot?! How do they know about our identities?!" he pointed his finger in Longshot's face and continued, "I bet it's your fault for that damn announcement you made on TV! Now everyone we know is in danger, and we can't do anything about it because you had to try and scare the scumbags!"  He was spouting off excess anger. He'd always been a bit of a hair trigger, but he was just letting it get the best of him. The inflection of his voice wasn't sincere. Longshot abruptly clamped his hand over Black Jacker's mouth and whispered softly, "Quiet..." His eyes traced around the room. All he heard was the sharpening of a blade against a flint. He let go of his friend and picked up his communicator. "All members report back to base! We've been compromised! Get back here NOW!"

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thegreatfour

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#12  Edited By thegreatfour

Ball and Chain moved from building to building, his long legs and astounding strength helping him easily clear the gaps between each. They would have used their bike, but it had been taken away when Marco had went on a joy ride through Champion city and been caught by the hero Overkill who had proceeded to be a jerk and take the bike away for no good reason. Well that was a lie. He'd been pushing 70 mph and the speed limit was not exactly that high. He hadn't worn a helmet and maybe the worst part would be was he didn't actually have a license. Still it didn't stop Marco from being pissed at OK for taking his bike. It didn't help that the object controlling him right now blamed him for it. Ball was probably the most frustrating thing ever. He didn't even need to talk to annoy him. The fact people would overreact meant Marco couldn't tell his secret to anyone even though he really felt like it would get a lot off his chest. That was one of the reasons he'd told Selene, Alexandra and an empath named Despair.
 
They were nearing the Children Of the Damned headquarters when Marco decided that he really didn`t want to go. It was just an angry mob. No biggy and didn`t Longshot have a decoy house? It`s not like the Ball and Chain killer would calm the crowds with his charismatic appearance. He quickly hid his plans from Ball`s mind. He`d learned a mind trick or two from the metal attached to his wrist. One was how to hide his thoughts from telepaths. Balls mind was incredibly strong, able to break and takeover anybodies mind. Marco could only manage to hide a few things from him and not for long. > Hey Ball < his thoughts broke the nagging silence between them. The behemoth decided to come to a halt on a building overlooking a park adorned with lamps to light the way for midnight joggers. >Yes Marco. Why exactly have you interrupted our walk?< he asked. >I think it should be me who goes to the COD HQ<. A pause then a loud telepathic guffaw could be heard. > And why, pray tell would I do that?< . Marco wished he could turn his lips to a smirk. He could confidently say he had this. > Think about it. That mob is pissed at the Children Of the Damned. You are really freaking hard to miss. But me, Marco could sneak in unnoticed!< he exclaimed holding his breath (metaphorically) as his shield on the one thought that would ruin this chance, slowly started to come undone. Another pause came as Ball thought it over. Hopefully Ball thought his nervousness was because of the need he had for a bit of freedom. His answer was short sweet and made Marco want to jump for joy >Very well<. 
 
The metal cuff connecting Marco to Ball popped open and the ball and chain hit the ground. Marco shrunk to his usual size and lean body shape. The cold, uncaring look Ball usually made Marco`s face wear changed into a devilish smile. ``Sucker`` he taunted, using the lime-green coat he had worn to scoop up Ball and cover him from the outside world. The thoughts he`d covered up was a revelation that he didn`t want to be controlled right now. Right now Marco wanted to do what he wanted. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. It was outdated and the screen was so orange and pixelated you could compare it to an old arcade game. Marco dialed the number of his friend and mentor, Selene. One of the few people he`d told about the connection between him and Ball and Chain.  He really just wanted someone to hang out with and pretend to have a controllable life for a little while. The teen put the phone up to his ear. He was a little disappointed to get the answering machine. Guess he had to leave a message. ``Hey, Selene. It`s Marco. I was kinda wondering if I could come over or something and, you know talk. So I guess call me back if you want to. It`s okay if you don`t so see yah... or not``. The troubled teen put his phone back in his pocket. Marco waited on the rooftop impatiently, ignoring Ball`s protests and tapping his foot. He and Ball were completely unaware of Longshot`s call mainly because as luck would have it, Marco had forgotten their COD radio at home.

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wild cat

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#13  Edited By wild cat

        The whole arena couldn't get any louder as they screamed and cheered for Ted. Ted's sweat dripped of from all over his face, each drop of sweat danced around for a little bit/while on his face before falling down the mat. Tiny, Ted's opponent which has been abused skill wise and made to look like a fool couldn't get any angrier, he's anger isn't hidden in any state whatsoever. You could see his teeth shown, almost grinding them. He shouted and cursed, but Ted, well..he was basking in the victory, he was celebrating in advance with a smirk on his face. It wasn't a smirk of cockiness, but rather a smirk of joy. Joy that he still finds in fighting tourneys and tournaments. Sure, being a trainer is something to be happy about but, it didn't give the same feeling, the same kick that Ted would normally found in matches like these. And specially when the crowds on his side.
 
Tiny, with his ever so growing anger stood up from his kneed position, and wiped a little blood on his lip. "Boy, you'd don't know what you got yourself into." The current champion of the tourney said,cracking his fingers he ran towards Ted and seemed to be very confident on his power. "Like I never heard that one before" Ted replied as Tiny was getting closer, and closer. As the six five giant rushed in, his left arm twitched, signaling for a left hook. Or, any punches that would be thrown with the left arm. Ted rolled his eyes and noticed, his fought a lot  harder guys in the same tourney more challenging than this. He couldn't believe how predictable he was.  
 
Throwing the left hook with power and speed on Tiny's throwing distance, it would knock everyone out, well mostly everyone, and possibly even Ted. The hook swung and missed Ted by inches as challenger, Ted Grant swayed and weaved back. With momentum and gravity playing against the champion, he was left completely open for any attacks Ted wished to throw from his left side. It seemed slow in the eyes of veteran fighters, including Ted. Despite not being the smartest on the C.O.D, he could think clearly and quickly in fighting situations.
 
Wild cat threw a devastating counter left hook, aimed directly at Tiny's ribs. With such in disadvantaging position, the counter left hook hit it's target. Ted could feel his fist digging deeper and deeper, the crowd reacts as Tiny goes down from the pain of the rib shot. Tiny managed to get his hands in front of him, preventing his face from slamming into the mat/canvas. Again, to everyone surprise, Tiny stood  up, with a smirk, he clenched his fist and put up his guard. Ted stared in amazement, a smile slowly crawled up on his face as he happily put his guard up.  The crowd loved it, every second this match lasted,  the more pain Ted is taking, and most of them isn't from his opponent. As embarrassing as it may sound, but Ted has arthritis. Specially in the back part, and weaving isn't helping it, nor does bobbing. Hiding and concealing the pain may not do anything to the problem, but it wont give him any significant weak points for Tiny to look for. Another problem is, this tourney has no time limit, it's either win by submission or K.O, or T.K.O. Things Ted might be unable to do if this match precedes his limit
 
"Great heart champ" Ted complimented, as the champ stood up. The champion smirked, but continued, he threw a combination that forced Ted to cover up, each punch was felt, even with Ted's guard. A punch managed to to escape the parries and go inside wild cat's guard, the punch hit directly on Ted's eyebrow, leaving a big gash. "Aw crap, not there again" Ted thought, as he reminisced  the branch accident where longshot had to stitch it up. The cut wasn't wide nor deep, but it stung. So did this cut. Ted wasn't allowed to bring any electronically gadgets, but he hid a small earpiece that replaced the C.O.D's radio. While covering up and taking punishment, longshot's voice pierced through Ted's ears, shouting, demanding every member of C.O.D to report back to base. Ted couldn't believe what he was hearing, with such high technology security system, how could they be compromised? How could someone go inside the C.O.D Headquarters, when Longshot was there? Ted was in panic, he ducked down and threw an overhand right, without aim or thought. Oddly, it hit the target. With such force, the champion was knocked out! The crowd roared, the arena vibrated as the fans celebrated the new crowning of a champion, but Ted didn't stay long in the ring to be crowned. He was more worried about his teammates. 

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Bloodstone

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#14  Edited By Bloodstone

Selene had spent a good amount of time with Natalie after the interview. They rode around with the police officers for a bit. Natalie didn’t exactly enjoy it but she had admitted learning admiration of the woman and officers. They were dedicated and Selene was the shining example of this dedication. A couple hours had passed since the interview. That’s when everything came undone.

Selene pulled into a small gas station the parking lot was empty as of yet it had been a pretty relaxed day so far. She leaned against the car pumping gas when things got ugly. The intercom cracked with static. Then came reports of various murders all of which suspected to be of members of the C.O.D. The woman cursed under her breath, what the hell was going on? None of the team would kill so recklessly. She couldn’t defend the idea they didn’t take a life however the police radio was saying otherwise. If that wasn’t bad enough Natalie had to act out as well. 

Her brown eyes narrowed at Selene. “What the f--- is this? You tell me all this s--- about how you’re out to aid us all and then there are murders with your name on It.?” The woman was screaming at her. It was hard enough doing this job taking bullets for everyone now she had a newscaster jumping down her throat. For a brief moment she swore to herself that if they weren’t in a bad state Selene would put them in one. She shook her head though knowing it couldn’t be fact. The newscaster pulled a gun and pointed at Selene’s face. Things were getting ugly fast, “I can’t let you go Selene if your teams causing mayhem I need to keep you here.” Following Natalie’s remark Longshot came over the intercom. She needed to get to the HQ preferably now, her phone rang and police radio went off as well. She rolled her eyes now just annoyed.

She would aid the police first, if the call was a C.O.D who says needed a ride or didn’t know what the hell was going on she would tell them to meet with her. Then she would go to help her team first came Natalie however. Bloodstone placed her head on the barrel and stared at her. “I told you everything, now I have a job to do.” The woman still resisted holding the gun to Selene’s forehead. “Pull the trigger if that makes you feel better but please let me get a move on. I need to be of use.” The newscaster dropped her arm “fine go.” Jumping back into the car Selene pulled out. Her phone showed Marco had called. She sent a text saying where she was going. He was an apprentice but more important to her a friend. However sitting around waiting wasn’t something she took interest in. 

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.Riddick.

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#15  Edited By .Riddick.

Riddick was impressed when his communicator buzzed into life and Longshot began screaming. "Compromised? That's interesting." He had, for the sake of testing, attempted to best the security systems that protected the headquarters. Then he heard something behind Longshot's voice, barely registered the sound, but it was somebody sharpening a blade. By the sound, a short blade like a knife. Camera bulbs flashed as the reporters pressed for a shot of the device. "Riddick! What is Longshot calling you back for?" Riddick walked passed the man, speaking into his communicator. "Boss, stay right there, I'm on my way." He hadn't stopped walking, and the reporters' questions fell on deaf ears, but they were still not discouraged. "Riddick! Who will your next victim be?" He started sprinting, his face determined.
 
He ran into the building powerfully, ulaks already in his hands, the doors blocking out the questions of the reporters as they locked until another member opened them. He found Longshot easily, and Calder too. "Reporters on this planet are like those dogs on Crematoria. Except the dogs are less numerous." He smirked, pulling his goggles up as his heightened vision scanned the darkest corners of the room. "Where is that damn breeder?" He said frustratedly as he walked over to the shadows. There was something there...
 
A spiky creature that resembled a dog, with eyes just like Riddick's snarled against the back wall. It flew forward, but Riddick didn't move, the thing colliding with his chest, as he flew over onto his back. In a second, he was on his knees, his ulaks at his waist. "Damn. You followed me all this way?" He patted the dog's side, looking up at Longshot and Calder, the dog looking back and forth, its upper lip curled back as it growled. It looked back to the Furyan and licked his face as Riddick chuckled. "Go find." He pushed the dog and it trotted off hesitantly. Riddick looked over as he stood. He shot a sly grin at Longshot. "It's an animal thing."

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Daywing

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#16  Edited By Daywing
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uVefPPr69NU    (Listen while reading :P) 
Umbra ran the rooftops following a police car chase. He knew it wasn't the smartest thing considering the police thought the COD were murdering people, but these criminals were serious and needed to be stopped. The criminals started taring apart the buildings on the street with uzi's. Ozzy shot a grappling hook across the street at a building flying over the car. He unfacined it in mid air landing on top of it's roof. "HOLY $H!T!" He could hear the driver yell, Um smiled lifting up his escrima sticks and smashing it through the window shield, sending it straight down on the drivers skull. He looked up as the driver fell unconscious to see a spike strip right in their path. He tried reaching down to grab the steering wheel, but the passenger of the car freaked out punching Oz in the face and causing him to lose balance. He barely held on to the cars frame. "oh...@#$%!" Ozzy yelled as they hit the spike strip, the car spun and with no driver there was no control. It lost it's baring and tumbled in mid air, but as it was about to land crushing Ozzy he flew out by shooting his grappling hook and saving his life. The hook hadn't hit anywhere high so Oz hit the ground hard probably scraping up his skin under his costume.  
 
"I'm alright!" He yelled seeing the civilians run towards him, one grabbed him picking him up, "No really I'm okay.." He said rubbing his face, dizzy, but the civilian wouldn't let go of him. "He's one of those murderers that we've been hearing all over the news!" The man yelled not letting go of Umbra. "Crap!" He thought as he pushed the man away, he saw another jump at him, but he moved out of his path causing the man to hit the ground hard. Suddenly two men grabbed Ozzy's arms and he tried kicking off, but two other men grabbed him by his legs. "Take his mask off! See if he's really that lawyer guy or not!" Umbra struggled as they grabbed at his mask. He had a special adhesive on it, but that was only so it wouldn't fall off, a few tugs would surely take it off. He could feel they're fingers clawing at his face like animals, people he swore to protect! With one final burst of strength he grabbed a smoke grenade on his belt activating it, it blew up and everyone started to freak out allowing him too get free. He pushed through the crowd the smoke not really effecting him and shot a grappling hook miraculously getting away. (End of song :P) 
 
Ozzy landed on a roof top only about a street away from the incident. He fell on his butt mainly from shock of how close his identity was revealed and of how crazy those people got, actually believing he was a killer, was it worth it? Being on a team? He held his face with one hand catching his breath, he contemplated everything that was going on and if it was really all worth it till his thoughts were broken by Longshot's voice in his communicator.   " All members report back to base! We've been compromised! Get back here NOW!" And if Umbra really was questioning himself on whether or not he should be on this team, he surely answered that question as he got up and headed straight for the headquarters, to protect his teammates. He ran as fast as he could flying off a rooftop. People watched on as he soared through the air making a ridiculous jump onto another rooftop. He was finally at the headquarters and went in through the top door on the roof. He saw Longshot, Calder and Riddick and headed right towards his leader, "I have a lot of questions Longshot and I'm sure you know what they are, but you can answer them later." He paused letting his emotions pass, "So what's going on boss?"
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.Longshot.

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#17  Edited By .Longshot.

Longshot stood before his team and tried to calm them all so that he could speak. "Thank you all." he said, "You have served, not just me, but the entire world, with extraordinary honor. You have given more then anyone should ever have to give and on behalf of the world, I thank you. I know that you've been through harder times then usual as of late. I apologize for the situation, but you've all strived through it so far." he paused for a moment, a bit uncertain of what he was going to say and in his ability to face it himself. "There has been someone. Someone who has been designing our downfall for months now. Whoever they are, they alerted the news organizations, they framed us for murder, and now they are here, in this very room, ready to kill us all. Whoever this is, they are a master of disguise. They copied our weapons, techniques and identities down to the last detail. Whoever this is, he could be any one of us. He's been inside the base for hours and now that we're all here, he's ready to move his plan into action. Keep your eyes peeled and let me know if you discover anything. Wait..." Longshot scanned the group, "Where's Decoy?!" 
 
Longshot went to the TV and turned it on, seeing a reporter outside the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, the sun only minutes away from setting. She spoke about Decoy Elite claiming three more lives before attempting to rob a museum. The police were waiting for him and he was cornered. Longshot turned to his team and picked out two of them, "Jacket, Bloodstone! Pick up Decoy and get him back here A.S.A.P.! Bring him up to speed on the situation. GO!" he ordered, "Everyone else, stay put and stay calm. We're going to systematically check everyone here and root this guy out. No one leaves my sight."

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wild cat

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#18  Edited By wild cat

  It was rare, very rare for Ted to leave out of the ring to avoid a big celebration, especially a celebration for a new crowned champion. Once again, the C.O.D team has made Ted do things he didn't imagine he would do, specially for some group he just met and joined.  The crowed looked confused so did the manager and some coaches Ted brought to the arena. It wasn't like him to leave and not even give a smile of happiness. As if Ted didn't like his victory, but that would almost be impossible, but it seems his care for his team has taken over and out muscled his glory hogging side of him. No doubt, it was a first.
 
Nearing the exit gate, lights flashed vigorously and violently, followed by questions that swarmed the whole arena, competing against the roaring crowd behind him. "This must be the extra reporters Derek told me about" Ted said to no one but himself.  Ted wasn't sure why these reporters suddenly took interest in fighting tourneys such as this one, but they're late, and they probably wont get pays tonight, specially that Ted is in a hurry. But one question caught Ted's mind, as if they grabbed it. The question forced Ted to either answer, or be suspected of being a murderer. One lady, in a blouse colored in red asked with the most distinct, high pitch voice among all the crowding reporters "Ted, is fighting not enough for you to be satisfied? And do they allow killing in this tourney your joining?" Was this woman absurd? Ted didn't and never took a life. How and where did they get such speculation? "Ma'am, with all do respect, where were you when I was basking in my glory? Have you not watched or read any news? I've never killed a man in my life, ever. Doing so would end my boxing career, and then what? Do I go bored and play scrabble? Of course not." The reporters were shocked, they didn't think about that possible come back, well..maybe they didn't but the woman who asked the first question did. "Well, that would have been a valid answer if you were in your prime, and if you were actually actively fighting in a boxing ring. But, despite being still contracted, you not only backed out of three fights already, but you've been hiding your face in the boxing arena to hang out with your team, which I may assume are killers also?" Wow, this reporter was aggressive, Ted almost forgot about the breaching of their headquarters. "Lady, unless you have solid proof, proof that people can see me, in my suit, killing an innocent  man or woman, than I will go to jail, willingly. Now if you excuse me, my house is waiting for me, they're throwing a surprise party which I over heard..so, please..don't ruin this moment." Of course, Ted didn't have anyone waiting for him at his house, hell...his family thinks his in a fighting organization in Hawaii. 
 
Amazingly, Ted managed to squeeze his way out of the crowding, and blabbering reporters. And he had someone covering up for him, Derek..the fame hogging manager replaced him, like a b!tch on heat hogged the reporters answering every question they asked. Wow, looks like the media met they're match. While the information leeches were busy asking Derek, who knew almost nothing about his own fighters, Ted was doubling up the pace as he hit his Harley Davidson motorcycle at seventy miles per hour. The well tuned, condition engine roared like a fierce lion. With expectational maneuvering skills, wild cat escaped through traffic and went go on red lights. He was certain, outnumbering this fraud would be the best way. 
 
Ted arrived shortly at the H.Q and rushed inside, seeing Longshot and a few members where already there, listening to any commands Longshot would give them. wild cat was about to join the group, but remembered he was cut, and the blood still trickled down his face, he quickly looked around and spotted napkins in the table, he wiped the blood from his face and held the tissue on his forehead. Before finally, going forward to join the assembled C.O.D members, in a civilian attire.

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thegreatfour

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#19  Edited By thegreatfour

Marco waited for Selene to call him back on the rooftop. He could admit to not being very patient. Maybe it was just because he had a limited time of being free, although he could have sworn  he was always impatient. Still he felt a little more nervous about this then the usual things. He was walking back and forth on the roof in anticipation. Maybe she wouldn't call back. Or worse she might outright decline it. Out of maybe the four maybe five friends he had in his short life she was the closest. Selene was the only one to find out his secret about him being the Ball and Chain. In a way she was the only person that actually knew him. That didn't really mean they were friends though. He thought of her as one, but did she? Marco just might be a teammate or a trainee to her God the waiting was killing him.
 
Then Marco looked at his phone to realize embarrassingly that she had sent him a text. It told him where she was going and basically they would meet halfway. It didn't occur to him that there might be a good reason her destination was the Children Of the Damned headquarters. He found the stairwell of the building and descended it to the streets of Boston. Right after he got out the door he bolted, racing to the place she wanted to meet at. He didn't have to run, he just wanted to. He ran wildly against the crowd having to figure out ways of evading people who didn't get out of his way and usually yelled at him afterward which was only encouraging. Marco had a huge grin on his face by the time he reached his destination. He stopped at a fire hydrant to catch his breath as he panted heavily and clutched his knees.
 
Selene didn't take very long to get there. She smoothly drove her car to the curb and stopped in front of Marco who was still panting, but smiling now that she was here. She gave a slight smile, but she seemed a little off. He couldn't explain it, but she didn't seem as okay as her smile made it out to be. He walked around and got into the passenger seat, neglecting to wear his seat belt. As Marco closed the door he felt a content feeling, like he was full. He could be normal for a while. "Hey Selene" he greeted still smiling. Bloodstone pressed on the gas and got the car moving again. " Hey Marc. How's everything"? she asked. "Good. BC had an interview. If you could call it that". He didn't refer to it as him since it really wasn't. Ball and Chain was a completely different person than him. "So it didn't go well for you huh?" Marco quickly noticed how personalized the comment was towards him. It made him uneasy "Ball thought it went well". Selene's eyebrows knitted. "I asked about you Marco, not him" her concern reflected in her voice. The teen turned to watch the road appearing to be consumed by the car. "Yeah I guess so" he mumbled. Seline sighed and looked toward the road. He took a glimpse at her face. She looked so frustrated, lines showing between her eyebrows, she almost glared at the road. Marco felt like something was stuck in his throat. "Look. I'm sorry Selene. I just don't really feel like talking about it". She seemed to relax a little "I know. It's not about that. Just other things happening in my life". She paused, maybe thinking over what was troubling her, Marco couldn't tell. "So I'm guessing you didn't get the call then"? He turned to her and gave a look of confusion. "What call"? Selene readily replied " C.O.D. has been compromised. Some of us have been framed for some killings.We need to regroup at the HQ". Her tone was dead serious. For Marco it felt like he had a pit in his stomach. He knew that BC had killed a lot of the time. He wondered if BC had actually been framed or just caught in the act. 
 
They were almost at the HQ when things took a turn for the worse. Their car can upon a very quiet intersection. There were almost no cars. Sort of a weird sight at any time of the day. Then the silence was broken as police cars burst from the intersection to Marco's right and stopped in front of Selene's car, making them unable to get passed. Then before they could even think of trying something more cruisers came from behind them doing the same, successfully blockading them in. "Sh!t!"Bloodstone swore under her breath. Marco's first reaction was to reach for the only weapon he had. He dove his hand into his jacket that he was using like a bag to carry Ball. He could feel the cuff snap onto his wrist and then the surge of power as the ball and chain took control. First he felt everything that was him get pushed into a small corner in the back of his mind. Then he felt his body morph. His skeleton and muscle mass expanding, making him a giant once again. With that Marco was present no more. There was only Ball and Chain. "Well we seem to be in a predicament" he commented looking at the police who were now out behind their cars with weapons pointed at them. "Well at least they are smart enough not to approach the car". Ball almost immediately came to a decision. He put his purple mask on, opened the car door and stepped out.
 
"Freeze"! an officer shouted at him from the safety of their roadblock. "My my. They don't teach manners in the force? How disappointing" BC mused. He started to walk at a slow pace towards the roadblock. The police officer called out again "I said freeze"! The officers in front of him looked surprisingly nervous. It was amusing to Ball. They had the advantage. He had no real ranged offense and no defense for bullets so it seemed as if they really had nothing to worry about. It hadn't occurred to him that they didn't find killing as necessary as he did. "Freeze dammit"! The man repeating himself was getting rather annoying, still he kept walking. He could hear Marco repeatedly ask questions about the plan. He didn't answer. He could hear the buzz of a radio from behind the line of cruisers as he neared. In fact he could hear the words said by the officer who had been yelling freeze. "You have the shot?.... Take it". Then Ball heard the bang of a gun, most likely a sniper rifle of some sort, carried by an officer positioned one of the many buildings surrounding the street. He couldn't feel the bullet break Marco's skull or it embed itself into the boys brain. And for a small moment he lost control and the body fell to the cement road. There was no activity in Marco's body. His heart, his lungs and his brain did nothing. Marco was dead.
 
Ball tried to count how many times he been stuck on a dead mans wrist. Actually that was not correct. This body wasn't an adult yet. That didn't really matter however. His team needed him and Marco had suffered his punishment for tricking him. Ball could now take the time to make this body a little more useful.  Ball's ability to control people was not just telepathic. It was also him sending his electrical pulses into their nervous system, thus sending information to all of the body on what to do. Usually when doing this to a live body he only needed to focus on voluntary actions of the body. Such as walking. But with Marco's brain unable to work right now Ball would have to take control of Marco's breathing and heart beating. He began sending the information to Marco's body like his brain would have. It took him five minutes to get the heart to start pumping blood through his system with a soothing beat. Then he could feel Marco's chest rise and fall as his signal reached it. Even Marco's mind was active. Although it was just really a buzz to indicate he was alive. There was no actually thought happening with the bullet damaging his brain. Ball and Chain slowly rose up from the ground. Marco had been dead for maybe 10 minutes. Enough time for Selene to have taken care of the police. Perhaps they could finally get to the Children Of the Damned then. The upper part of his mask had been destroyed revealing shaggy brown hair and a bullet hole in his head, with blood pouring from it all the way down to his foot. "I suppose he'll need an extremely good surgeon after this".

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Bloodstone

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#20  Edited By Bloodstone

Selene drove towards the head quarters while on the lookout for Marco. She also kept an eye peeled for a large bulky man with a deep violet hood and a large ball attached to a chain. Just in case her friend had the misfortune of becoming that brute of a hero again. Would be nice if the kid wasn’t being controlled by a piece of magic prison gear. Then again in her line of work everyone nowadays had to have something wrong with them. She resorted to leaving Marco cover it all. She couldn’t have a sway in the matter even if she wanted to.

Soon enough he was spotted and she pulled over. The positive atmosphere he gave off was a nice change. She tried to preserve it as long as she could. Things were getting worse and worse but to shoot Marco’s enthusiasm so soon would be disappointing. She made efforts to keep conversations going despite her words being a bit short and quick. Her mind however was running laps trying to figure out everything going on. Who could be pulling enough strings to know their identities weapon configurations and black mail them so elaborately? That and how good were they. What if Marco was killed off and the person beside her was the imposter. Going mental thinking of conspiracy theories probably should be avoided she figured so she focused on toning out her train of thought with pointlessly loud music. Sirens began to go off as they approached a seemingly vacant road.

A trio of cars pulled up in front of them in a hasty stop. Two had come from the road to the right another from the left. Two more cars blocked off the right road and one took position on the left. They were pinned down she switched gears and started to back up when another quartet of patrol cars blocked them in. A flurry of curse words exited her mouth quietly as the two became boxed in. As if things couldn’t get worse she saw Marco reach into his bag. He put the hood on and picked up the large weapon. In the meantime she dug for the right vocabulary to explain how screwed they were.

Marco approached the police officers casually and ignoring their demands. A six foot something individual with more bulk then most wrestlers and a skull crushing weapon approaching the police just screamed bad. Of course Ball and Chain kept to his path. God forbid he be rational no he had to walk up to trigger happy men who thought him a mass murder. She could make out the muffled sounds of an order then came the gunshot. A bullet tore into Chains head. His body dropped limp to the ground. Selene rushed towards Marco’s presumed corpse in a mad rush. She fought back tears as she gazed at the wound. Was by the side of the head and there was no exit wound. It still registered as fatal however. She pounded on his chest in anger. She wanted to beat him to a pulp for making her care. Wanted to shed her own blood for failing one of the few friends she had. The idea of her failing to preserve a life yet again made her sick to her stomach.

Officers approached her cautiously with guns drawn. “Miss put your hands in the air.” Selene rose fighting her anger. She resisted her urge to deck him. “I haven’t done anything move” She nearly yelled at him. He looked at her in question debating the idea. His gun was still aimed at her head. Natalie the news caster from earlier got out of one of the cars and ran towards them. She had apparently been on a ride along at the time. “Let her go have an ambulance come and call this sh!t done. Can’t say for him but I know Bloodstone doesn’t deserve this.”

Several minutes passed no police medics or anyone else nearby. It was just her, a corpse and empty street. Her eyes were red she knew she had things to do but this was too much. Then to her surprise Marco got up. Smart ass remarks soon followed as if it was no big deal. Despite the blood running down his head and over his clothing. She didn’t know whether to be enraged or happy at the miraculous and macabre sight. Climbing back into the car she looked over at him. “Obviously the secrets out and where in sh!t to deep to waste time discussing things. Do me a favor and keep Marco the hell alive.” She remarked in a way that was more like an order.

The rest of the car ride she was silent. When she opened the door she held a berretta in each hand just in case. Her hair hung in front of her eyes blocking out the anger and depression in her eyes. She partially wanted there to be dozens of these imposters. It would be good to get her anger out. Mission took priority of course however this had been one of the most frustrating days she had ever put up with.    

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George Silver

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#21  Edited By George Silver

 "Jacket, Bloodstone! Pick up Decoy and get him back here A.S.A.P.! Bring him up to speed on the situation. GO!" Longshot's bellowed orders echoed throughout the rest of the base, and gave Calder a small feeling of uneasiness. The idea that his teammate Decoy could really be a murderer was something that would be hard to shake off, but he had his orders and Calder intended to carry them out, if only to get to the bottom of the situation. He pulled out his communicator and turned it on before switching to Bloodstone's channel. He nodded at Longshot and walked away, heading towards the exit to begin his mission.

"Hey Selene," Calder spoke into the communicator, "The boss wants us to head over to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts to pick up Decoy. Meet me over there as quickly as you can." He put the communicator in his pocket and ran into an alley once he was outside. Making sure he wasn't spotted, Calder opened his wings and began to take flight, flying over the city that had seemingly turned against them. It was strange knowing that not too long ago the team had almost lost their lives fighting for them, and now that the team needed support it was rapidly disappearing. It filled Calder with an anger that filled his mind with only the thought of hunting down the one who caused this and making them pay dearly.

After a few minutes he reached the museum, flying into an alley behind the building and retracting his wings before looking for a way in. If he didn't move quickly there would be trouble for both him and Decoy, so he hoped that Bloodstone would get here soon to back him up. He spotted a back door and quickly moved up to it, then kicked it as hard as he could. Unsurprisingly, the door flew open and hit the wall behind it with a large BANG, Calder quickly slipping inside hoping that he could end this quickly as he began his search for Decoy.

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.Riddick.

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#22  Edited By .Riddick.

Riddick stared meaningfully at Longshot. "You accusing anybody, breeder?" He said, calmly, but with an edge. From another room there was a loud bark, then the sound of a small body hitting the floor, followed by a yelp. Riddick pulled his ulaks, and began to walk away. Longshot had told him to stay in that room, but Riddick no longer cared. He walked through into the other room, and the Hellhound lay on the floor. He guessed it was bleeding, but it was hard to tell, since its spikes, normally a dull brown, were bright red. He ran over, dropping to one knee over its prone form, noticing the knife wound in its side. Riddick remained completely stationary and silent for a moment, before he stuck the ulaks in his belt and lifted the Hellhound easily, walking back through the rooms loudly. He walked back to the team and looked at them. "We're going to catch this guy." He walked off again, down a hall, round a corner, and through a door, to the sick bay. He placed the dog onto the table and quickly bandaged its wound. Not paying any attention to anything else, he placed a coat of his over the dog like a blanket. "If the person you kill is trying to kill you," he muttered "killing is justified. But you do not stab a defenseless animal." He stroked the alien beast and exited the sick bay, locking the door behind him.
 
He walked back to the team, raising an eyebrow at Longshot, as if daring the boss to give a consequence for his actions. "Well, I guess we can say the intruder isn't one of us. And that he is one sick, soon-to-be-dead @$$wipe." He pulled his ulaks again, liking the feel of the serated edges, which ran over the top of his fists, and then the flat blade that covered his knuckles. The whole idea was that they added cutting power to punches.

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.Longshot.

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#23  Edited By .Longshot.

Black Jacket took flight into the city as night began to fall. Suddenly, there was the near-silent slip of a knife against flesh and the high pitched yelp of a dog. Riddick had taken his other-worldly pet into the base. Longshot would chastise him for that if he had not also brought an animal in. Riddick rushed to the door, Longshot following behind him. He turned to the rest of his team and ordered, "Stay put, form groups of two and keep an eye on each other. Do not let your partner out of your sight." He followed Riddick into the hall and saw his canine beast laying there, breathing slow and heavy from its nostrils with glassy eyes and blood dripping from the tips of its spike growths. "Bring it inside." said Longshot, "I can help, but we need to stay in there until we find our rat." Ignoring him, Riddick picked up the dog and stepped into the elevator. "That's an order, Riddick!" he shouted as the elevator moved down to the infirmary, "GET BACK HERE!" 
 
Longshot went back inside with his team and a few minutes later, Riddick returned.  us.  "Well, I guess we can say the intruder isn't one of us."said Riddick,  "And that he is one sick, soon-to-be-dead @$$wipe."  Longshot looked the man in the eye, the man who was, admittedly, about two inches taller then him, and said, "We'll find him. But there's something you should know, whether its a helpless animal or someone trying to kill you, murder is never justified." He smirked, "You left your communicator on. And when this is over, we need to have a long talk about lethal force." Riddick payed little mind to his remarks and turned around pulling out his rather extravagant knives. "In the mean time..." Longshot said, drawing an arrow and taking aim at Riddick;s back, "Why don't you tell me what you did with the real Riddick while you were down there?"

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.Riddick.

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#24  Edited By .Riddick.

Riddick shook his head with a look of defiance as he heard the arrow being pulled back on the bowstring. If the shot didn't kill him, it would maim him at the very least. "You going to shoot me, Longshot?" He knew the rest of the team were interested in this little show of "who's bringing the most $#!t to the table." He turned a perfect 180 and looked at his boss, completely disregarding the arrow. "Put the arrow away, human, or someone will get hurt." Riddick was a little worried by Longshot's behaviour. It's like he was a different person. "Do you really want to do this here? In front of the team?" He was quietly thinking, Soon as this is over, me and Longshot clearly have a lot of $#!t we need to sort out. And in Riddick's experience, the best way to sort $#!t out was with a fight. A vicious one. "Let's get a few things straight." He stepped forward, ready to dodge the arrow, if Longshot fired. "I haven't ever taken orders from anyone." Another step."And I don't plan on starting now. If you've got a problem with that, shoot me." He was completely sincere about that, his face steady. "but if you want to find your rat, get that arrow out of my face, or someone'll get hurt." He tightened the grip on his ulaks minutely, his nostrils flared, and his entire body was ready to leap at the man.

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wild cat

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#25  Edited By wild cat

  Ted stood beside longshot, with his arms crossed. This problem has just gotten from bad to worse as Riddick and Longshot got into an argument and Calder was sent to find a possible traitor of a teammate. Decoy. The only one to possibly separate the two from tearing each other apart was him. Ted stood there, ready to break the fight if their feud did spark up.  The body language shown by both teammate and team leader was fierce. But Ted's heart spiked as  Longshot drew an arrow and pointed it to a hot headed Riddick. He wasn't scared by either men though, but they didn't need this right now. This could even worsen the situation. The last thing they want is a headline that says "Children of the damned team kills one another" Wow, this isn't something they'd want at any time. Ted had to act fast, as Riddick was nearing Longshot, he knew he was going to attack first, this was a fifty fifty chance of success. As Riddick attacks, Longshot having a good pulse and aim could drive that arrow right at Riddicks heart and possibly kill him or, Riddick could catch longshot by surprise and slice him up good. Ted had enough of their little scene, with bravery and maybe a bit of stupidity, the legendary fighter grabbed the neck of the arrow Longshot had drawn and pointed it somewhere else, with his other hand, he faced it to Riddick as a sign of stop. "You can deal with this later in a match or in training, but..we should stop this. You get nothing as a result of this." Ted calmly said, trying to knock some sense into this dangerous men. Though, Ted had thoughts about both these men being the rats. But, one thing he learned in his boxing career and his current hero status is, never think ahead and you should analyze the scene carefully first.  He didn't want to make any speculations yet and turn it into a brawl, nor does he want to lower his guard down.  Ted looked both men, waiting for their responses. Wild cat hopes that his try at a peace "Treaty" would work.

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.Riddick.

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#26  Edited By .Riddick.

Riddick's ulaks felt heavy for a moment, and he figured he could kill the old man in a heartbeat, then take out Longshot whilst he was shocked. He stared at the boxer for a moment or two, then turned away. If anyone was going to find this guy, Riddick should get a headstart. Maybe he could kill the guy before he caused any more hurt, or death. "Once this is over," he muttered, "Longshot and I have some serious shit to work out." The tactic Longshot would use would probably be to separate the team into two-man groups, and hunt the guy that way. F#ck that. I'm killling this guy. He thought, not stopping at any commands Longshot might give him. Besides, Riddick hunted better solo.
 
He turned the corner as a shadow disappeared down the hallway. He knew he was still in full view of the team, and he yelled. "Stop!" He sped forward, tailing the guy who started running when Riddick yelled at him. The man knew the base better than Riddick did, speeding down corridors, round corners and making turns at all the right places. Riddick stopped at a junction between several corridors, looking down each. "What I wouldn't give for a Lensor right now." He said frustratedly, as a statue, remarkably larger than himself tumbled at him. His astral self trailed a path away from the falling lump of stone, and pulled his physical body out of its path just in time.

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Daywing

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#27  Edited By Daywing

Really? This was really happening? Ozzy's first week on the team and they were trying to kill each other already? Maybe he was being pranked. His thoughts were cut off by Wild Cat stepping between the two and trying to calm them down. Wild Cat was smart, even if one of us was the rat this wasn't the way to find out. they would have to all calm down and work together and if anyone slipped up then the team would know. He stared at the scene for a moment, both men had the determination to take the other down in a split second, but then Riddick turned away.  "Once this is over, Longshot and I have some serious shit to work out." He muttered out, a defiant tone clearly in his response. Oz rolled his eyes, macho actions clearly wasn't the right thing to be doing right now. Riddick walked away, with the king like tone he claimed to have. "Stop!" Riddick yelled and was off down the hall. 
 
"I'll get him!" Ozzy yelled to his teammates, hoping he could calm the warrior down, Oz vaulted over the couch and went down the hall. He followed Riddick down corridor after corridor, he didn't see what Riddick was chasing, IF there was even anything to chase. The thought went through his head, "What if Riddick was the rat and he was just trying to separate me from the team?" Oz shook his head, if it was true he'd deal with it, he could take the man for a time anyway. He stopped next to Riddick about to speak, but he was interrupted by the falling statue, he flipped out of the way landing on his feet gracefully. "What the hell is going on?" He whispered next to Riddick, but the question was more to himself.  

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Bloodstone

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#28  Edited By Bloodstone

Marco had been shot in the head, the interview had brought up bad memories, the entire team was being framed for murder and now Decoy was missing. This was arguably the most frantic messed up encounter in the history of heroes. Selene though confidant Children of the Dammed would prevail honestly thought they would wind up with one of the team mates dead at this rate.

Before she left she had tossed the communicator at Ball and Chain. With any luck the blubbering idiot would take it. She also desperately told him to be logical and not risk Marco’s body anymore. She doubted the man would listen however. Now she was on rout to Decoy’s last location. Her partner who would meet her there was to be Black Jacket. Whether it was in fact her Canadian friend or not of course was in question. She parked in back of the building and climbed out of her car grabbing her equipment.

Approaching the back door of the compound she withdrew one of her pistols and placed her left hand to her ear. The sound of static was heard for a second before switching to its functional state. “Call me crazy Caladar but I think my days gone rather poorly as of late. Your calling the shots on this one.” Bloodstone remarked. “Oh and please can we do this without a body count? We haven’t worked beside each other so I don’t know your methods. We could do without the negative limelight however.” She added sarcastically.    

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.Riddick.

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#29  Edited By .Riddick.

Riddick looked around. That kid, Ozzy, had followed him. He hadn't factored in team mates following him. "What's going on?" He said, echoing Ozzy's question. "There's a madman trying to frame us for murder and he just tried to kill me." Riddick wasn't good with talking to people, and he wasn't really into the whole "social" thing. "That sum it up enough?" His head suddenly turned, as he thought he heard a noise. He tightened the grip on his ulaks and turned slowly. When his back was to Ozzy, he suddenly felt really vulnerable. "If you're going to be following me," Riddick said slowly. "Make sure you cover my back and stay out of my way." He thought for a moment that it would probably be smart to go back to the team, but he wasn't going back there. Not yet. "I wonder what Longshot would have to say about his lofty ideals when it comes to this guy?" He chuckled.
 
In a nearby room, a TV buzzed into life. It was a stark reminder that outside this building, life continued as normal. People milled around like cattle, thinking they were so self important. The news flicked on, and Riddick's expression became more and more angry as it proceeded, as he pushed the door open slowly. "This is breaking news! The entire Children of the Damned team are now wanted! All members are to be arrested, or taken down with lethal force! The members are..." The door was fully open and Riddick could see the screen. Pictures flashed up on the screen as they said each name, photos from on the street, or from the media after those first murders. "Team Leader Longshot!" The boss' picture flashed up. Not a bad one, but the get up really wasn't that impressive.
 
"Decoy Elite!" Another picture, this one a little out of focus, and Decoy was a bit to the left, like the picture was taken in a hurry. "Black Jacket!" This time Calder's picture came up on the screen. Much better than Decoy's, almost as if Calder had posed for it. "Wild Cat!" Ted's picture. Riddick started into the room. The TV was maybe six or seven feet from the door. "Ball and Chain!" Each of the names was being announced loudly, and violently, so anyone could be sure of the names of the people who were considered murderers. "Bloodstone!" Selene's picture came up on the screen as Riddick reached the TV. "Riddick!" His own face was plastered across the screen. "And Umbra!" Ozzy's picture was shown on the screen for a split second, before the Furyans large fist punched the set, shattering the screen, so that the glass poured to the floor like rain. "What. The fuck?" He said, turning to Ozzy, as a shadow sprung from behind the door, swinging it shut so that it locked with a bang! The figure launched through the air, pouncing at the Last Furyan, Riddick ducking with all his unnatural speed, then lifting his arms and turning the monster's momentum against him by casting him into the wall. He ran at the door, pullling at it in vain as the intruder flew at him, wielding an identical pair of ulaks. With a grunt Riddick rolled out of the way, the first blade puncturing the door.
 
Riddick drew his own ulaks and sped at his opponent, aiming for the jugular.The man seemed to move more than Riddick, doing a graceful backflip before springing forwards crashing a knee into his chin. Riddick flew back, his head bouncing off the floor loudly like a rubber ball. Riddick was amazed. This guy completely outclassed him, in every way. Speed, strength, agility, using the ulaks. Riddick rolled to the side before he grabbed the TV set, throwing the entire thing at the impostor. Of course, it was dodged, crashing loudly into the wall next to the door.

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Daywing

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#30  Edited By Daywing

Oz ignored Riddicks sarcasm but nodded as he followed the man, he reached behind his cape pulling out his Vibranium Escrima sticks. He continued following as the sound of a television turning on alerted them, he walked behind Riddick, but stopped at the doorway. The television lit up the dark room and announced the team was now wanted, showing a picture of each of the members. A look of pure shock was expressed on Umbra's face as the Escrima sticks felt a little heavier and harder to hold. The next two things happened in a split second, Riddick punched the tv breaking it, the room turning pitch black then the door slammed closed and locked.  
 
Umbra heard a skirmish going on in the room, he grabbed the door but it was locked. He leaned back kicking the door open with all his strength. "Riddick! You okay?" Oz yelled jumping in the room, he was slammed to the ground by a shadowy figure with Ulaks, Riddick?Oz used all his strength keeping the man off him and blocking the swings at his throat with his Escrima sticks, he rolled the man off him and spun around landing on his feet, he backed up ready for a fight and realized Riddick was next to him. The man that attacked him wasn't his alien teammate, good. Even though it wasn't his teammate they were in for a fight. This man was faster and stronger then the two.   

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George Silver

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#31  Edited By George Silver
 “Call me crazy Calder but I think my days gone rather poorly as of late. Your calling the shots on this one. Oh and please can we do this without a body count? We haven’t worked beside each other so I don’t know your methods. We could do without the negative limelight however.”Bloostone said all of this with a sarcastic tone that Calder was almost proud to hear from the usually serious Selene. She had arrived not too long after he busted the back door open, but now he had to come up with a way to make it to Decoy's supposed location. Usually the first thing he would do upon her arrival was try to flirt with her, but today was just not the day for such things.

"Yeah I bet your day has just been just piss poor sweetie."he whispered sarcastically in an angry tone as he tried to get a look around, "Oh and while you complain about your bad luck how about you find me a job, a new apartment, and a safe place for my friends and family to live?" He immediately regretted saying it like that, but he was in a bad mood and he wanted to take it out on some bad guys, ".....Sorry."

He crouched and began moving slowly forward, keeping close to the wall with his tranquilizer in hand. He knew that they only had a certain amount of time before the police would just send their forces in, and they probably would send in some SWAT people in before that so they only had a very short amount of time to work with. As they reached the end of the wall Calder peeked around the corner to spot none other than a pair of museum security guards, their guns raised as they moved slowly down the hall. They would be a problem for the two heroes, so Calder decided it would be best to take them out of the picture. He raised his tranquilizer gun so that it was aimed at the closest of the two guards as he quietly moved forward, knowing that once he shot them he would have to keep them quiet for the few seconds the dart would take to knock them out.

Once he was close enough he fired, sending a dart into each of the guards as he rushed forward. He grabbed the closest guard and placed his hand over the man's mouth to stop him from yelling and his other hand to grab the gun, then brought his foot up and kicked the other guard in his stomach to knock the wind out of him and knock him down before he could fire his own weapon. After a couple of seconds the darts took effect, and Calder slowly lowered the guardsman in his arms onto the ground next to the other one. He raised his hand and waved Bloodstone over before speaking. "We don't have a lot of time before the police decide to come busting in here as you should know, so we need to split up to cover more ground. You take this floor and the floor below us while I take the upper two floors. If one of us finds Decoy we contact the other one and we all meet up back at the headquarters got it?"
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.Riddick.

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#32  Edited By .Riddick.

The fight had been going on for about two minutes. Thanks to Riddick's speed and agility his torso was criss crossed with shallow lacerations, a few producing significant bleeding. The other man was much stronger and faster. The door slammed open and the rushed attack stopped for a moment as the man went after Ozzy. He leaped at the intruder, hooking his arms around the guy's shoulders. "Get...the guys!" The Furyan yelled as his opponent stabbed an ulak into Riddick's back. With a primal yell, Riddick dropped from the man's back and tore the knife out. The man was grinning viciously. It was blood shed that spiked this monster's adrenaline. "Ah fuck!" He yelled, as blood began to pour from the stab wound. "Umbra." He said, his vision beginning to blur. "Go." Swaying uneasily from side to side, Riddick charged, meeting the opponent in the middle of the room, dodging under a knife swing, then missing a swing at the guy's jugular. Two quick slashes to the abdomen made the Furyan stumble back. "Go!" He yelled at Ozzy, charging the bad guy and grabbing him around the waist. He felt the two powerful punches to the back of his head, but he felt detatched, separate from his body.

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Daywing

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#33  Edited By Daywing

Oz ignored Riddicks calls reaching into his utility belt and pulling out brass knuckles, he punched them together and electricity sparked off the metal. He charged at the unknown intruder uppercutting him while he was on top of Riddick. The man fell back but only for a moment, he jumped at Umbra slashing at his torso and skull. Oz blocked the Ulak from tearing up his face with his escrima stick, but the Ulak tour through his nomex suit slicing through his skin. Oz lifted up his second escrima stick pushing up the intruders second ulak. The two pushed back on each other, but the man was clearly stronger then Umbra and the hero could feel his knees buckling and slipping. 
 
With one push of desperation and willpower Oz head butted the intruder who's skull felt like a brick wall. The man's arms slipped up and Oz closed his eyes spearing into the intruders gut causing the two to smash through the window of the room. Oz felt himself flying through the air, he opened his eyes and realized the intruder was gone, but he didn't have much time to react considering his body slammed into the ground. Pain shot throughout his torso as he slowly looked up, every protester saw the hero and charged towards him. "No time to react...to much pain.." Oz thought as a kick was sent to his chin, he fell on his stomach as the protesters started to attack, the police would surely follow.     

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.Riddick.

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#34  Edited By .Riddick.

Riddick saw the intruder and Umbra crash through the window. Watching the protestors, Riddick jumped to Ozzy's rescue. He landed next to the lawyer and grabbed the back of his teammates suit. Pulling the human to his feet, Riddick looked around, speaking slowly so that everyone could hear him. "You have precisely twelve seconds to back off." The protestors, mad at this threat, charged forward. Riddick pushed Umbra behind him, as he tried to get all the protestors to focus on him. "Eleven." They slowed for a moment, unsure of what Riddick would do. "Ten." They were angry, but intimidated. "Nine...Eight...Seven..." A few backed off, but a sizable crowd were still massed in front of him. "Six...Five..." Now half of the crowd had left, but one man punched at Riddick. The punch was slow and weak. Riddick sidestepped it, but did not retaliate. "Two..." He raised an eyebrow as the last of the crowd ran off. He turned to his friend, and aimed a gentle slap at the back of his head. "That was stupid Umbra. Real stupid." He looked around, but the guy must have slipped away into the crowd. Dammit! He turned back to Ozzy and grabbed the humans shoulders. "What did he look like?" He started shaking his friend, a crazy look in his eyes. "Tell me! What did he look like?"

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Daywing

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#35  Edited By Daywing

Oz was still in pain and Riddick shaking him didn't help at all. "I don't know. I didn't see his face, just like you didn't!" He pushed his friend away annoyed. "Maybe if you didn't break the tv we'd have seen his face!" The hero sighed looking at his teammate. "Whoever is doing this, is trying to freak us out, trying to put us against each other and your Furyan temper is helping them do just that."  
 
He thought for a moment, "Now whoever it was, didn't slip into the crowd. He was gone before I hit the ground. This man has powers or technology, maybe both. We all need to work together to find him." He looked around and thought for a moment, "We should go before the cops get here."     

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.Longshot.

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#36  Edited By .Longshot.

The situation was getting worse as the team was getting more upset and irrational at the sight of the news broadcast. Suddenly, the lights went out and the television fell to the ground, shattering with a quick spark of light that momentarily lit the room, casting the shadow of an unidentified figure running nimbly across the room. The shadowy figure engaged Umbra and Riddick, fighting off both of these incredibly skilled combatants with little difficulty. Little could be determined about him, but the gleam of swiftly slicing blades revealed that he was wielding ulaks, akin to the ones Riddick used. There was no doubt that the intruder was finally making his move while their numbers were thin and their organization poor. This intruder knew the opportune moment to strike and it was now. There was a crash, a boom and so much shouting and then the protesters were marching through the streets. Riddick got in the elevator and went to the front door. The commotion must have attracted them here and made them see through the decoy house. Now the raving protesters were fully aware of the base's location and Riddick's yelling was only making it worse. The crowd dispersed and there was a sound of the elevator coming back up to the main room. The lights flicked back on abruptly. 
 
Glass and blood and knocked over furniture were strewn about the room. To the sight of everyone in the room, Longshot stood in the open, surrounded by his teammates. In his hands were two ulak blades, dripping with freshly shed blood. "Oh my..." Longshot said snidely, "It appears as though I'm it."

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wild cat

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#37  Edited By wild cat

  This night was more of a battle than a normal mission. In fact, it was a war. Ted had to use both his brains and brawn. Something very rare. He already saw two teammates about to go on each other, than finally, the lights died and rumble flooded the base. Wild cat has an uncanny ability to see in the dark, he could see Umbra and Riddick fight the copy cat but only for a brief moment. After they went to the next room, Ted was looking at the torn up dinning room. Ted stayed where he was at before the base went dark. He wanted to be the watcher, something he needed to do. Someone needed to keep an eye out in all the action without freaking out.  He was ready for a brawl, but he had to keep that aggressive nature closed, at least for tonight. His sharp eyes were locked on two teammates going rumbling with some figure, oh...the urge to interfere was killing him! A mask was shown, this figure wore a mask, he also had a bow and a pair of ulaks. Ted stopped and thought for a while, was longshot really the traitor, or is the traitor also copying the team leaders costume? 
 
The short battle ended, a large mob of protesters could be heard all the way up to the third floor. The mechanics of the elevator noisily rattled and a few seconds later, an injured Umbra and a beaten up and angered Riddick showed up. Umbra's costume was all torn up and he also noticeably sustained cuts in his torsos. Ted move his jaw, in anger on the unknown copy cat. Looking at his younger teammates getting beat up angered him more than someone beating himself up. This was unacceptable. A few moments later, the light turned back on. Ted didn't need to adjust, he most of the things going on in the dark.  He looked to his right and saw longshot..holding a pair of bloody ulaks. Could it be? Their own team leader, the copy cat? Than, it hit him. All of the actions Longshot did fit perfectly. Why would longshot tell a group of reporters that the C.O.D existed? Plus, having an excellent background in martial arts, he could easily defeat Riddick and Umbra, with all do respect, Longshot is considerably better at most of the members in hand to hand. Possible better than Ted. 
 
Wild cat couldn't even think about it. Ted was furious! He clenched his fist, making a crunching sound as his hand wraps rubbed against each other . He made his posture calm, so what would happen next would surprise even Longshot. Keeping his body language at minimal, signs of fighting could hardly be seen. Ted wanted to cuss, but that would give the element of surprise away. Then, while everyone was still in shock, Ted threw a blinding hook, aimed at longshot's nose. The speed he used was the speed he utilized when he fought a world class martial artist back in the day, it was quick, and full of power following it. Even if Longshot dodged it, he had a few more combination following it. Win, lose, or draw. Ted wanted to make his punch be worth it, he needed longshot to know, what Ted felt.

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.Longshot.

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#38  Edited By .Longshot.

Longshot stood there to the amazement of his team. For how long had he been the impostor? What was he planning? And most of all, what had he done to the real Longshot? He scanned the room, looking at every member of the team with a menacing stair that penetrated the emotionless expression of his mask. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. Wildcat threw a punch with blinding speed straight towards him. After studying the old prize fighter carefully, the intruder knew that he was confident, but the weak point of his psyche regarded his old age, the feeling that he may slowly become useless to the world, that arthritis will take his ability to throw a punch and the years will eventually chip away at him so much that he will be reduced to nothing. There were creaks and moans in his joints as he moved, he was already suffering from arthritis. The false Longshot simply stood there and let the punch make contact, gouging across the front of his face, only instead of the sound of flesh pulverizing flesh, there was a hard metallic PING! The impostor staggered back, unharmed but impressed by the power in the fighter's punch. "Not bad, old man." he said, "Did the nurses at the home teach you to punch?" He had tapped into Wildcat's prideful rage, something that would make him sloppy. He was a great fighter, but an equal combatant could manipulate him easily. Every member of this team had been meticulously studied, analyzed to the point that he could predict any move they would make. 
 
Without a moment's delay, the intruder took up his bow and drew an arrow, aiming for something high up in the rafters, but the lights dangled down from the ceiling, making it hard to see. There was a sound of metal clashing with metal immediately followed by the sound of the arrow sinking into the cement ceiling. From up above where the arrow had shot, a heavy iron ball on a broken chain, an exact replica of the one a teammate carried, fell down straight towards one of the teammates present. Whoever it hit, the impact would instantly crush their skull. With that attack in effect, the false Longshot grabbed a golden cartridge from his bandoleer and threw it at Wildcat's chest, immediately bursting into a cloud of gas. Whether or not this version of Longshot's knockout gas was lethal would soon be seen.  
 
With a flick of his wrist, an escrima stick shot from beneath the impostor's sleeve and he took firm hold of it, one of the ulaks in his other hand. He had half the team's archetypal weapons concealed on him and was ready to use every last one of them. By the time Black Jacket, Bloodstone and Decoy arrived, they would see a room stained with blood and their deceased teammates scattered on the floor. Longshot was once among the most feared assassins in the world. This impostor not only had his skills, but the abilities, tactics and weapons of every single member of the C.O.D. This was going to be one hell of a night.

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wild cat

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#39  Edited By wild cat

    In Ted's frustration and confusion, he threw a strong, professional punch. It was quick, and powerful, but it wasn't as devastating when he was at his prime. Nonetheless, it hit it's mark. But Ted hoped for a bone crunching sound with a mushy, liquid oozing feel to it. But he was wrong. After the punch connected, he felt something hard, and then, a "Ting" followed it up. Ted's punch, if hadn't by his experience could have been stopped from the metal plate concealed within Longshot's mask. No doubt it hurt, he wasn't expecting things to be found inside a mask. Wild cat's punch preserved through the punch. Something cracked, Ted didn't feel pain, so it might be either the surroundings or the metal mask, which would be unlikely, but he was sure, it wasn't his hands. 
 
Longshot stepped back by the mere power of Ted's punch, but Ted started to feel pain in his hands, it took a glance and saw blood slowly making it's way out of his hand wraps, the blood raced for the exit, finally, dripping to the floor where he and his teammates were standing. He opened and closed it noticeably, it was broken, but it was cut. This wasn't helping. Anger still took over Ted's body and mind. It even helped numb the pain in his hands, but what would happen next would be, amazing.
 
Longshot, or who Ted thinks, threw some pellets hard, hitting Ted's well built chest. Upon impact, gas began filling the room, it had a distinct, yellow-greenish color to it. In some spaces the gas has yet to fill in, Ted saw the team leader drawing an escrima stick with his right hand just moments after shooting an arrow in the ceiling. Ted couldn't see what was or who was up there that longshot shot at, but he hopped it wasn't a teammate. He had to keep his eye on the prize.
 
The gas was now thickening, and asides from covering the room, it had a weird buzz to it, then Ted knew it was knock out gas! Similar to what longshot carries. Ted could filter the gas out, but he couldn't do it forever. He had to act quickly, he shouted "Get out of the room, and meet me where we land" Wild cat tried to hide his plan, still keeping an eye to longshot, he threw a chair at him, and quickly followed the flying object. Whether longshot would slice it with the ulaks or get hit, Ted was just behind it, trying to run him through and out the window.

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.Riddick.

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#40  Edited By .Riddick.

Riddick dropped Ozzy, knowing his teammate spoke the truth. "Lets get back inside. The guys must be wondering what happened." He ran around the front of the building and burst through the doors. Running to the elevator, he punched the button for the top floor. As the elevator doors opened, he sprinted to the room. A snap! was heard as the lights came back on. "Guys? He just attacked me and..." In front of him, holding ulaks stained with blood, was Longshot. Suddenly everything made sense. He pushed himself into the room. "You tried to kill me. Now I'm going to make you hurt." He was about to charge the bow wielding leader of the Children of the Damned, when he fired an arrow straight up. He looked up, then shoved Umbra to one side, dodging the ball and chain that crashed into the floor. Longshot was the traitor! He watched as the knock out gas spread through the room. He chuckled a little as the thick gas entered his airways. No effect on him whatsoever. "Alien, remember?" He called as he could only imagine what the gas was doing to his teammates. He looked at the chair to Wild Cat's side, figuring his plan when he yelled for them to get out of the room and meet where they landed. "Umbra, go first, the gas doesn't affect me." He said, shoving the lawyer in front f him.

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.Longshot.

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#41  Edited By .Longshot.

The gas spread quickly across the room, clouding everyone's vision. Wildcat was shouting to everyone to clear the room and intentionally throwing his advantage of surprise out the window. Riddick was shouting to his fellow team member, implying that he was impervious to the smoke. Alien physiology. Fascinating. When this was over and they were all dead, the intruder made a note to perform an autopsy on Riddick to catalog his species and all the fascinating secrets his seemingly human form concealed. Still, he had enough of a psychological profile to exploit Riddick's weaknesses. He was hot headed, brash and rebellious simply for the sake of being rebellious. It was puzzling as to why he would ever even agree to join a team with someone as his superior. They all cleared the room, but the impostor could feel someone else there, there was still the lingering of his presence somewhere in the grey fog. Then, he heard the scraping of chair legs against the floor and a firm, but quiet, grunt from Wildcat and spun around, splintering the chair in mid-air, just before striking him, with only his fingertips. Then, there was the repetitive thumping of footsteps and he ducked down, letting Wildcat sail over him and out the window, shattering the glass as he went, plummeting four stories to the ground. 
 
The pale moonlight shown through the shattered window, streaking through the thick clouds of gas and leaving a haunting glow in the air. The false Longshot stood there for a moment, basking in his eventual victory. He let the moonlight reflect from the stark grey cloth of his mask, accompanied by the red shine of his eyepiece. In a moment, he would go down and slaughter them, let them bleed in the streets and await the return of the final three team members. All this time of preparation and the moment of execution was at last at hand. Suddenly, from behind the intruder, came the sharp cry of a hawk and from the darkness lurking within the open door to Longshot's room, the once wounded hawk soured out, flying directly at the man it could tell wasn't the same one who mended his broken wing. The hawk unleashed a flurry of claws, his massive wingspan blinding the impostor to Longshot. He put up his arms to defend himself, but the razor-like claws of the wild bird began to pierce his durable clothes and cut him. The false Longshot swiftly backhanded the hawk, sending it falling to the floor several feet away. He straightened his clothes and turned back to the window when suddenly, an unseen attacker grabbed the collar of his coat and thrust him forward, headfirst into the brick wall. He recovered quickly and swung his elbow wide, knocking his attacker in the temple. The mysterious attacker had disappeared in the mist, only to have a fist swing from the darkness and slowly emerged to meet the intruder face to face. 
 
The team was amassed outside the building, glass from the accident with the window still scattered across the ground. Suddenly, the false Longshot fell from the open window, straight down and slamming hard into the ground. Before he had a chance to get back up on his feet, a second pair of feet landed on the ground on either side of him. He and the rest of the team looked to this attacker's face simultaneously. The attacker reached down and grabbed hold around the man's neck, looking him eye to eye and snarled, "Who the hell are you?" It was apparent that the real Longshot had returned.     

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George Silver

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#42  Edited By George Silver

 

“Oh and watch out for any pesky SWAT teams that might try to bust in and kill you.” Calder didn’t wait for Bloodstone to respond before grabbing one of the fallen guard’s radios and sprinting towards the stairs. They needed to find Decoy fast, hopefully before the police took anymore action, but knowing his luck Calder wouldn’t be surprised if the Army came busting down the doors sometime soon. With his tranquilizer in hand Calder was ready to shoot at anyone that moved, even Decoy. Once he made it to the next floor he began softly creeping around the halls, staying at close to the walls as possible and peeking around corners to try and spot any leftover museum guards.

Once he reached the end of the hallway and found nothing Calder was about to turn back and return to the stairwell when a group of three guards came down from the top floor and began patrolling his hallway. Calder hid behind a corner and brought up his tranquilizer gun, ready to fire at any moment, as he began to formulate a plan. He had to take them down without any of them calling for backup, and the only way to do that was to take all four of them down as soon as possible and almost simultaneously. He peeked around the corner, watching as the three guards walked down the hallway towards him with their guns up and ready.

“This will be a bloody walk in the park.” He whispered to himself as he readied his gun. He would fire three darts and hit three men, hopefully in the legs so that they waste their time looking down while the dart takes effect and knocked them out. He was aiming at the first guy’s leg, waiting for him and the other goonies to get a little closer. Just a little tiny bit clo-

“Status report ground floor team!” the radio Calder picked up went off and could be heard across the whole hallway, resulting in all three of the guards firing their pistols into the area where Calder was hiding. All of a sudden he was under a hail of small arms fire, and now there was no chance in hell he could take them out with only his dart gun. He cursed under his breath as he reached into his pocket and pulled out once of his small concussive grenades, giving it a good luck kiss before throwing it. It went towards and bounced off of the wall opposite from him, heading down towards the guards who were simply relentless with their gunfire.

Calder could tell that they were no ordinary guards since they were actually rotating their shooting so that it would be a constant stream of fire. Two would shoot, then reload while the last one shot, then shoot again while the third guy reloaded. “Whoever they are they’re about to get messed up!” Calder exclaimed as his grenade landed near the foot of the third man. A second later it went off, sending the third man flying into the wall and onto the ground while the other two were reloading. Calder jumped up to his feet and aimed around the corner, shooting two darts into each of the two men left standing as they reached for a new clip of ammo.

In less than a few seconds they were down, and Calder ran towards the stairs knowing that his element of surprise was gone. After reaching the top floor he repeated the same thing he did on the third floor, until he came upon the last thing he wanted to see; Decoy was on the ground bleeding as a small group of guards surrounded his body. One of the guards smiled as he aimed his gun at Decoy’s head, intent on finishing him off. It was a gambit, but Calder jumped up and screamed at the last four guards as he fired off an entire clip of his darts. taken back by his war cry, three of them were hit before they could even raise their guns, and when the last one rolled to the side to dodge them he was met by Calder’s foot in his face. All of the guards now were taken down, and that left Calder to take care of his team mate.

“Hey Bloodstone!” he called over the communicator, “I have Decoy, but he’s really hurt. I need you to pave a clear exit now then come help me with him!” he turned off his comm. and began carrying Decoy over his shoulder down the stairs, hoping that Bloodstone would be able to save both of their skins.

 

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Bloodstone

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#43  Edited By Bloodstone


Selene didnt bother to stress the isue on Black Jacket's circumstance. Later she could offer help but at the moment it was best to cover the matters at hand. As Caladar went one route to look for Decoy she went the other. She made her way up a scalpalding near by to get a better view of the suroundings of her emediate area. Looking over the room she concluded she was in the clear she also caught sight of some suport beams above her. The space between the beams and roof was just enough for her to traverse if she knealed. It also was the lay out for the majority of the building. This would allow her to get around most the complex undetected. With any luck that stealthy aproach would be un-neaded but it was better to use it if she could.

Blood oozed out of her finger tips the acidic content would allow her to ascend the wall. There would be some damage but not to much to notice without taking a close look. She continued to climb until reaching the scalfalding from there it was browsing the many coridors from above. Guards were not on the extreme but none the less they were aparent. By the looks of things they got the better of Decoy considering he was no where to be seen and yet patrols were near by. The good part of this was they would feel they had the worst bit covered and were not on the alert. The swat teams mixed in was an unwelcome addition but nothing that couldnt be taken care of. Bloodstone continued on her path above it all looking for her team member or the highest concentration of guards to soften the opposition before shit hit the fan. She was the opptomistic type usually but she also was logical and logic dictated things were far from done. The main room a office space by the look of it was in front of her. This was the center of the complex and so she figured likely the location of the security strong point. Thinking this she turned her radio to the proper chanel as the guards as she grew close.

Sure enough it was the highest concentration of guards. Most of the building was covered in pairs but this room had eight people in all six of them swat. Most were at one of the doors only two stood in the center of the room, this gave room to manuever thankfully. A dozen desks lined the room while book shelves were against the walls. Not a very atractive layout but it was offices after all and cubicles were not the luxury of work places. Papers candy wrappers and other various junk was on most of the desks. Creeping to the platform above the people in the center she got ready to listen to what was going on. Thats when her radio and everyone elses went off, cover was definently gone. Her katana was unsheathed and she leapt from the bar she stood on she would need to end this quick. Back up would be at the building in she estimated ten minutes and it would be best for Caladar Decoy and herself to be long gone by then.

Aiming herself in the proper position she kicked both guards in the center first. Well to be percise she fell on them but a kick to the head and someone falling on your head as they landed from droping from a two story high point was similar enough to knock a foe unconcious.The two regular security guards would get in the way and tonight was not a time for casualties so she ruled to tackle that threat first. Surbrise was still in Blood's favor so ran straight for the two. Nearing their position she dropped to skid on the tile floor. Her right foot kicked the right foot out from under the first guard towards her right side. The man toppled over face forward his head hiting the desk knocked him out. As she rose she hit the inner thigh of the guard to her left with the handle of her blade. The man dropped to one knee from the empact. From the corner of her eye she saw one of the swat officers draw a tazer to avoid the small eclectrical charged needles she used the wounded guard's head as a kick off stand. He was put out of commision and she vaulted over a desk.

Her back was now turned on the entrance to her left was a book shelf stretching along the entirety of the wall.The right was the location of one exit and in front of her was the true exit. The exit would get her away and towards Caladar she still needed to dispatch of the remaining four officers however.She scanned the cubicle for possible devices to use to her advantage. Pulling the cord from the radio on the desk she hurled it to the exit and made a dash to her right. Before the radio hit the ground she unholstered her left pistol and fired a shot at the electronic. Longshot was the crack shot of the group put she thought herself proven a good second. The radio sparked providing her the cover needed to drop the other two. She drew near to the two swat members clad in bullet proof armor their helmets were left outside however which would get her the better odds to stop the two. The first officer was no swet dropping as her pistol met his temple. The pistol whip puting him to rest. The second wasn't so graitious. His baton snaped into use and clubed her in her rib cage. She grunted from the pain before it faded away. She twisted her body so she could get behind him. Following this she brought her knee into his spine to render him done before they got into an actual spar.

Vaulting over the desks between her and the last two officers she pulled herself into a roll when she hit the ground. The tazer rounds passing over her a split second before she gained her footing.Cracking her fist that held the pistol against the side of the guards head he colided with the wall and slumped to the ground. The last officer had the time needed to get his riot shield loose. On instinct she brought her katana up to parry the incomeing attack a movement she regreted even with her healing factor. Her blade was kicked back from the embact, The katana tore a ygly horizontal gash down her face while her nose broke in an odd direction from the shield. As the officer raised the shield to bring down on Selene who was kneeling in pain she thrusted her fist foreward. The man duobled over from the punch to his sturnum. Selene followed this by strikeing the man in the back of his head before quickly wiping off the blood on her face and blade. The katana would holdout, Selenes left sleeve however was burned away and deep red smears of where her blood had been painted her face.

She prepared to make a run for it when the entrance at her back slammed open. Turning on her heal she brought her pistol up while her right hand remained on the katana's hilt. An officer of swat in his mid forties with a tall stature and gotee going with his texan accent and deep voice entered the room. Selene grinned as she recognized the man. "So Bloodstone is my Selene affter all? Thought my midgit squad mate went and died on me." Remarked Juan Sadian an old team mate of Selene's. The woman holstered her pistol though her right hand remained in place "I did, and im not a midgit im just short you ass" she retorted with a laugh. he barrel of a man sighed before punching her in her right arm "I owe you plenty shorty so you get your people out of here i will stall them as long as i can."

She darted towards Black Jacket's location. They only had so much time and she wanted to check on Decoy's status for herself. Hopefully his engeries were not as bad as Marco's she still woried if that kid would pull through. As they left for the C.O.D head quarters she would see if Caladar wanted a room. It would be small and in the back of an armory but team was family if the guy wanted it then it was his. Of course that was sugesting they didn't all wind up dead by the matters at hand.
   

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thegreatfour

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#44  Edited By thegreatfour

The past hour had brought a great number of problems to Ball and Chains attention since Bloodstone had brought him to the the Children Of the Damned Head Quarters. The first was obviously keeping Marco alive. If the boy lost too much blood through the gaping wound in his head ,with only the piece of aerodynamic metal that had caused the injury to hide the fact it had penetrated the brain, all the ball and chain would be puppeteering is a teenage corpse. Something which was not a favorable option. The body would rot until it was unusable and some teammates would be distraught. Which brought him to a second dilemma. Ball had not realized how much affection Selene had for Marco. It was... Disturbing. Like a virus there was a danger of this affection to infecting and weakening the strength of the whole team. The simplest solution was of course to stop the electrical impulses keeping Marco's body alive until all the brain cells died. A difficult decision. Where it would end the attachment problem the people who knew about his relation to Marco would most likely react negatively. Even if Ball didn't tell them they would begin to worry at one point and may even become violent upon learning. Marco would be kept alive for now. The third problem and probably the most deserving of his immediate attention was the imposter that had framed many of the teammates for murders, disguised as Longshot and attempting to beat most of the team to a bloody pulp. 
 
The impostor had let loose gas in the room the team that had stayed behind was in. Ball's mind immediately went to how the thick white cloud of gas left him unable to see and only hear the commotion. It took him a few seconds for the thought of, Marco breathing in what could be a harmful substance to cross his mind. Ball recalled Bloodstone's words of keeping Marco out of harms way. It had disturbed him to know that she'd rather him not get involved in fighting off a threat to the team. Her care was of concern, but he could defend Marco's body from the possibly toxic gas. The answer was simple. Ball quickly stopped transmitting electric pulses to the respiratory system before much of the gas was breathed in. No more exhales or inhales. From the towering behemoth in green, purple and dark red stained on his forehead there was complete silence. Of course on the other side there was what sounded like complete confusion. Wildcat barking orders to meet him outside and then Riddick boasting about his alien immune system. Then a loud crash from glass breaking, a window most likely, hadn't there been a window in this room? There was a brief moment of silence, had the impostor killed someone? Was that why everyone was silent? If so it was most likely Wildcat, Ball remembered him being the last man to engage the enemy. If Marco survived, an if growing ever larger by the minute, he would be very upset by this. Suddenly a shrill shriek pierced the air. Ball could hear the soft sound of wings beating up and down frantically. Longshot had an injured hawk that he was nursing back to health didn`t he? He`d almost forgotten about that. Ball and Chain was tempted to go in and observe what was happening. The faint sounds out cloth tearing suggested the hawk was attacking ``Longshot``. It could almost be considered hilarious how a hawk could tell the bad Longshot from the good Longshot, but the entire team of people who supposedly knew the archer well could not. The noise of the hawks attacks was cut short with a heavy smack and then the thud of a small body hitting the ground. Even louder noises followed. A short and brutal scuffle from a new contender. A whoosh of air parting and then the sigh of the floor as some weight lifted off of it of its own accord. Complete silence filled the room. The only noise came from the outside. A familiar voice. Ball was completely alone in the room. He hadn`t realized everybody had left. So hard to focus when having to split concentration on keeping a child alive. The 7 foot puppet started walking slowly through the thick gas, which was slowly airing out with it`s new means of escape through the broken window. Marco`s chest started to rise again as Ball started up his respiratory system again. As the giant walked he looked down at his feet, scanning for what he hoped wasn`t a tiny mangled mess. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a small dark figure resting on the ground. With a few swift strides the mound of muscle was on top of the figure. Ball and Chain crouched down to wait he suspected was the hawk. On closer inspection the hawk was breathing and seemingly uninjured. Lucky considering bird bones were hollow and ``Longshot`` had superhuman strength. Carefully Ball and Chain slid cupped hands underneath the bird and gently picked it up. Unluckily it was unconscious. The bird was the only one able to figure out who the impostor was. It was bothersome to think they would have no way of telling if the man switched clothes.
 
Ball and Chain made his way to the window, hawk in hand. Looking out of it his face would have brightened from what he saw below if he had cared to show it. Two Longshot`s. One holding the other by the neck. The very first question that ran through his mind was of course who the real one was. Ball might have been inclined to think the one winning was the original, but that was a horrid way to go about it. Switching to only carrying the unconscious hawk with one hand BC stepped out of the window frame and plummeted four stories to the ground, landing extremely quiet for some one his size, directly behind the winning Longshot. Using a now free hand he readied his ball and chain for the slightest sign of aggression. He wasn`t ready to believe this was the real Longshot just yet. It could easily be the fakeshot trying to get them off guard. First he had a question that might narrow who the real archer was down, something he hoped the fake had no way of knowing. ``When we first met`` Ball and Chain began staring at Longshots back, only one eye open due to blood from the bullet hole flowing over the other. ``After the very first order you gave me. What hurt you``?

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.Longshot.

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#45  Edited By .Longshot.

Longshot stared at his impostor, awaiting a response when suddenly, the sound of a heavy object falling through the air caught his ear and the sound of it hitting the ground, which was surprisingly light, but sounded like a heavy impact through his ears. When he looked to the source of the commotion next to him, he saw Ball and Chain, a hole torn through his hood and a considerable amount of blood staining the cloth. What in the world had happened to him? Before he could ask aloud,  his imposing teammate posed a question of his own,  "When we first met... after the very first order you gave me. What hurt you?" Longshot looked at him for a moment then gave a sigh, answering, "I was going into a school that'd collapsed..." he elaborated, "I was looking for twenty three kids and teachers. I found them and lead them all out, but one of the firefighters outside told me I'd only found twenty two. I ran back in and there was a boy... trapped... under some debris. I tried to break down the door but I couldn't.... I couldn't get to him in time. A boy died that night because I was too damn stupid to count the kids." Longshot looked down at the ground, breathing heavily as a torrent of emotions stirred within him, "When it was all over, I was the one who broke the news to his parents. His mother's tears... their pain... I will carry that until the day I die. Is that the answer you were looking for?" With that, he looked at the intruder and held his neck tighter. "Take off that mask!" he ordered. Without any hesitation, he reached for the base of the mask and  began peeling it up, removing it entirely. What he revealed was a metallic form, featureless and plain with a clear shine running over it. It ended around the neck with a black metal collar and below that, down his neck was a series of black wires tightly knit together to completely cover the exposed area of his neck. Another thing that he noticed was that there didn't seem to be any place for the mask to come off. "Now why didn't you kill me when we switched?" Longshot asked. The impostor reached for his collar and pressed a button. Suddenly, a choppy, digitized voice came from some speaker concealed in his helm, saying, "Specific. Orders. Kill. You. Last."  
 
Longshot was a bit taken aback by this, the surreal nature of the situation and the impostor's identity, or lack thereof. "Who gave you those orders?" he asked. Again, the intruder pressed the button, "My. Responses. Are. Limited. Ask. Another. Question." he said. Longshot simply asked, "What's your name?" to which the saboteur replied, "I. Am. The Nameless. My. Assignment. Was. To. Destroy. Your. Team."  " So you're the one who tipped off the news stations. Framed us for the murders. It was all you're plan to orchestrate our downfall." The Nameless again pressed the button on his collar, "Yes." "Why?" Longshot asked. Again, the Nameless responded, "My. Responses. Are. Limited. Ask. Another. Question." Longshot was beginning to get annoyed. He again tightened his grip and brought himself closer to the assassin's blank face. "Who is your employer?" he asked. The Nameless held up his hand, sticking out his index finger, then pressed the button beneath the one he'd been pressing before. For a moment, there was the sound of tape rolling, then an eerily familiar voice echoed from the assassin's mask. "Hello, Paxton." said the recording. Longshot's heart stopped as he recognized the dead pitch and soulless depth of the voice, it was Brixby, the man in charge of Horizon. He'd forced Paxton to train and kill and take those horrid pills until just a few short years ago when he'd escaped from that life. Since then, every Horizon assassin had taken their shot at hunting him down. With a thoughtful pause, Brixby continued, "Don't think my recurring clients wouldn't know about your team. They are the scum of the earth, after all. I can't let my investments go around and put arrows in my associates, can I? This is your final warning, Paxton. Return to Horizon at once. You will be punished, but you will live. I can't say much for the latter option, though."  Longshot let the rage boil inside him until finally saying, "Rot in hell." The Nameless pressed the button once again and the recording started up again. "I always knew your innate ignorance would win out over the common sense I spent years instilling in you. I'm afraid that by the time this recording is over, you will die. Such a disappointment."For a moment, the tape trailed on and as the recorder clicked off, Longshot caught the faint sound of blades sliding out from the assassin's sleeves. He'd padded the telescopic component so it wouldn't make a sound. Longhot had little time to react and pulled up his shoulders, shielding his head with his free arm.  
 
The Nameless slashed through his tough jacket, cutting deep into his right arm and slicing the flesh between two of his ribs on the exposed side of his torso. "Nnngh!" Longshot growled as he recoiled in pain. Suddenly, the Nameless pulled his legs out from under Longshot and kicked him square in the chest, sending him back with a harsh landing. The assassin used the momentum to fling himself up onto his feet. He continued to dive back and forth in the crowd of heroes, slashing wildly, but methodically at each of them. Ripping his red Longshot coat off, the Nameless tipped over his quiver and spilled out all the arrows, grabbing a smoke grenade. He pulled the pin and tossed it to the ground, letting smoke cover the street, surrounding them. Longshot staggered to his feet as he wiped blood from his skin. "D-Don't let him take you!" he shouted into the blinding smoke. "And mark yourselves!" he ordered, not knowing where the assassin loomed, ready to strike any one of his teammates. It was fairly obvious that the Nameless was superior to Longshot in every way. More meticulous, more cunning, more efficient, and absolutely relentless. With this cover and his speed, he could kill and replace any of them before the smoke cleared. But Longshot knew his team. They wouldn't go quietly into the night, they wouldn't be destroyed and they wouldn't be broken. As long as they kept their wits, they stood a chance.    

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George Silver

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#46  Edited By George Silver

 

“Now we can get out of this god forsaken museum!”Calder had carried Decoy to the back door of the museum, and just a minute ago Bloodstone had arrived as well. Now that they had found their lost ally, they could return to base, but a bad feeling had settled in the pit of Calder’s stomach. He brought Decoy outside as his team mate followed tightly behind, and slowly lowered him onto the ground near some bushes. He then quickly looked around, making sure that there were no police, and was pleasantly surprised to see no one. “Looks like we finally got a break!”he whispered, not knowing that it was Bloodstone’s friend who held off the other officers.

Now that the police were momentarily off of their tails and Decoy was safe, it just left that odd feeling alone in his stomach. Calder felt something rising, a sense of worry for his team, and he knew that he had to get there fast. He looked at Selene and smiled, “I really hate to do this, but someone has to make sure everything’s alright back at the headquarters.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, “And since you have the means to keep Decoy alive.....I’m kind of dumping him on you.” Calder’s wings began to extend from his back as he stood up, “Take care of him and yourself alright? I’ll see you guys there….if I see you again at all.”and they soon began to flap rapidly, until they began to carry him into the air, and soon he was off towards the base.

Flying at his top speed, with urgency clawing at his mind, it wasn’t long until he reached the COD headquarters. But once he arrived he didn’t exactly like what he saw. Longshot was facing an opponent dressed eerily similarly to him, but had a smooth metallic face that betrayed the disguise. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who was the true Longshot now, but what about before? Was he the one who sent Decoy on a bogus mission to die? The one who revealed their identities and compromised their mission? Calder knew now that it must have been the metal man below him, now fighting his team leader, and felt his anger begin to boil. It was this thing that revealed his identity and placed his grandfather in potential danger, got him fired, and took away his home. Now, it was payback time.

“Hey you metal freak!”Calder flew down at his top speeds to ram the enemy, “How about you tell the world about this!” He intended to knock his opponent at least off balance, but the metallic looking humanoid almost effortlessly avoided the attack, jumping away from Longshot to get some distance. Calder landed next to his leader and pulled out his revolver,“You always end up getting the team into just the craziest situations don’t you think?”

 
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#47  Edited By .Riddick.

The false Longshot was a robot after all. Apparently sent by someone the real Longshot had a beef with, too. As the tape played, the wounded Furyan gripped his ulaks tighter, ready for anything. The robot attacked, slashing Longshot across the arm and torso, the team leader's quick reactions the only thing saving his life. The assassin droid jumped, arrows of all kinds spilling out over the street. A smoke bomb rolled towards him, and came to a stop by his foot. Smoke poured out of the device, the droid attempting to blind the team. Riddick's eyes roved through the dense curtain of smoke, but he didn't see the droid coming until almost too late. The whistle of the long blades, and he brought the ulaks up. The force of the strike sent him sprawling back, as the second strike slashed across his shoulder blades, a third swiping below his ribcage. Blood poured down his body in great quantities, as he slashed at thin air, the Nameless already moving away. "If there's one thing to love about this job, it's the health plan." He sneered sourly.

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#48  Edited By Bloodstone

Decoy was laid out on the back seet, he remained unconcious which Selene was greatfull for. Not that they couldn't use the help it was just the fact she was tired of the entire situation and did't want another thing to stress about. Decoy's condition was nothing worst case senario he wound up in the hospital for a few days. She didn't want a half conciouse team mate to look after added to the angry Caladar, creature slaying Riddick who was already a possible convict and then there was Wildcat, Umbra and Longshot who were garanteed to have trouble as well it was simply the way of things tonight. Last of all was Marco, she knew she shouldn't be geting worked up over the event but she couldn't help it. As far as she was concerned the rest of Children of the Damned including herself could die tonight. They were out to benefit the world, making a diffrence required sacrifice and if the team had to die for a better world fine. Not that she wanted to see friends perish the mission and goal just came first.

Marco however was diffrent, he was possesed into doing what he did forced against his will into a corner of his mind so that Ball and Chain could do what he felt was needed. Marco may have been fine with being thrown in harms way maybe even being put aginst cops and shot in the head. BC had control over Marco who was a kid still and there for in her perspective remained in the concept of an inocent or at least a citizen. He was forced to be put in harms way and while Ball and Chain was a great asset to the team and got some leway he still needed to acknowledge his responsibilities. Every time he fought he was useing the same people he was out to protect. Being centuries old the mystical object should know better than anyone else that laws and punishment of criminals was so that common folk could be safe. If Marco was going to die it should be when he was in control of his own limbs. Wether you were a friend, police officer, hero, or even a god you shouldn't have control over another persons life.

Bloodstone weaved through traffic trying to get to the base as possible. Caldar had already taken off on his own. The time to herself was welcome as she made her wey through the busy streets. Selene shut off the car and exited as fast as humanly possible. From her position she couldn't make out the details, the silouettes of the members of COD showed anger however even from her spot. While traditionally anger led to rash decisions and was hardly an asset it was likely a good thing here however. Anger made one sloppy in percision, it also made you reckless and un predictable. When your target knew your every move you needed to use un conventional tactics. Thick smoke billowed from the doors Black Jacket went through. Whatever happend in there was cloaked by smokr gernades. Visibility was restricted to no more than a few feet. Entering the toom she closed the doors and did her best to seal them shut with the hand cuffs on her belt.

This nameless threat was going to probably try and weed them out. Slowly aproach one member after the next and over power them. Knowing the team so well she expected the target would likely pose as their closest friend to get close. Once he was near them he would probably turn into the person he stould before, aim to trump each player at their own game. Knowing this Bloodstone felt she needed a tactic that would be familiar enough her team recognized her while also hopefully being out of place enough that she could stand her ground when her time came to confront the murderer. Stripping off her jacket and undoing her belt that held her guns and amunition she was left with only her katana to rely on. Takeing a few steps forward she began to change her apearence much like she did when she shape shifted.

Blood pooled out from pores in Selene's body. Clothing disolved into nothing as the acid in her veins touched the fabric. Where the clothing fell a strange form of armor took place. The life fluid goagulated and grew untill there was enough to cover Bloodstone as well as be able to actually function as protection when it hardened. It was as dense as bone, it could only withstand a small amount of dammage what it made up for in seffense however it made up for in offense. Much like it was unwise to hit a person lit on fire same could be said for hiting a woman coated in acid. It also was unlikely that whoever this imposter was could replicate such an ability. Unclenching her fist from the pain that came from generating blood and forcing it out of her body. Twirling her blade she plunged it into the ground and clsoed her eyes. Seeing what was coming was impossible. That being said she was going to stay still and try and rely on her other sences to locate whoever her attacker would be.    

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.Longshot.

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#49  Edited By .Longshot.

Bloodstone arrived on the scene and dove into the fray without hesitation. The Nameless was bounding back and  forth, cutting away at whoever he could find. He moved around silently, stalking his prey through the fog with ease. His next target was Bloodstone and he immediately slashed at her, not realizing the acidic scent in the air. He slashed and stabbed quickly and dove back into the fog, but he noticed that his blades were corroding and falling apart. He discarded them and drew two handguns, identical to Bloodstone's. He fired a flurry of bullets, aiming right at Bloodstone and nearly emptied both clips before an arrow zipped past, slicing the lines and tubes connecting to his mask. Gas and and liquid started spewing out and he clamped his hand over his throat falling to his knees. The fog began to dissipate in the air and Longshot emerged, bearing down on the Nameless. 
 
"You think you can beat us? Hold him, Jacket." he said, kicking the Nameless in the ribs. "You can kill me, but you put people with the will to do good together, you've got something that can't be destroyed."  He looked down at the Nameless. "I've severed your life support systems. Brixby hasn't beaten me yet and what he does to you for not managing to kill all of us isn't going to be as bad as feeling your own body shut down. What's left of it at least. So, allow me to formally introduce myself. I'm Longshot and I've got one message for you... run." 

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Daywing

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#50  Edited By Daywing

Umbra appeared through the fog standing next to his leader Longshot. His left hand pressed against his side, a few of his ribs were fractured, his index and middle finger broken, his suit was torn apart, but he was alive and that's all he ever asked for. He smiled as he looked down at the Nameless and up at his Boss Longshot. "So was this my inauguration or something?"  He started to laugh which triggered all of his wounds to sting, but he only winced a little and laughed some more.   
 
Oz turned around looking at his teammates and accessing the situation, everyone looked okay, beat up but okay. The situation was stabilized and he took a deep breath, which caused more pain, and he slouched over. He looked back at his leader thinking about what the Nameless had told him, and he realized that him and Paxton actually had a lot more in common then he once thought. Paxton was once a weapon to a shady company like Oz was and now they were coming after his leader like Link Tech once was coming him.  

He reached his hand out, resting it on his leaders Shoulder, "Whatever it takes Longshot, I'll help you against Horizon and we'll all stop them together."