Death March - RPG

Pre-Attack

Situated within the protective interior of an anonymously stationed underground compound, the Brahma Bull's intimidatory, elephantine physique frame eerily found itself enveloped by ambient darkness. The solitary source of pictorial illumination, his menacing set of forebodingly incandescent, vermillion eyes, gazing with blink-less resolve at the appropriately positioned video camera, a live stream of the atmospherically bizarre video directly uploaded to the feverishly visited YouTube website. "As promised, the Fall of Gothic City is on the verge of commencement", the audibly distinct, preternaturally deep, menacing registers of the Brahma Bull's voice, quaking with auditory iniquity.

"This will be an act of anarchistic turpitude". The Militant Mammoth resumed his indulgence in lexical threat-issuing. "The destruction of Gothic Square, the savage eradication of your citizens, the brutalization of your heroes, it's only purpose, to serve as a message", he paused, imminently approaching an impending lingual conclusion. "This city is soon to become my slaughterhouse. In five hours time, strategically positioned bombs in this pit of despair will erupt. I bring not destruction. I bring you salvation from the social fabrication of morality. I bring you anarchy, true freedom", Brahma arrogantly clarified. "Threats of capture and death will never stop me, because revolutionaries don't fear execution". With visual abruptness, the video terminated.

Detonations

Narcissistically satisfied with the widely generated panic and widespread distress, the Guerrilla Goliath appropriately armed himself with habitually preferred firearms. Gifted with RKG-3 Anti-Tank Grenades, M67 Fragmentation Grenades, a Mossberg 500 Shotgun with extended magazines, a XM25 CDTE Grenade Launcher, and a Type lV Ballistic Vest, the Brazi Bull emerges from the undisclosed concealment of his positionally undiscovered abode. Having previously instructed an accumulative quantity of Bois constituents in the strategic approximation to the positioned explosives, Brahma waits, certain in the visual certainty of his cronies' pedestrian adornments' potency.

Standing atop a forsaken, grossly elevated rooftop, the psychopathic anarchist's sanguine-hued oculus surveys the aesthetically presented architecture of Gothic City with sarcastically undertaken artistic appreciation. "Operacao Death March", he murmured into a minuscule communicative device. In the immediate aftermath of his hushed utterance, a prominently auricular series of barbarous explosions structurally disheveled targeted bridges, and infrastructures of cultural significance. Aromatically-infesting smoke clouds of incendiary provenance expansively distributed themselves in the ambient aerial environment.

Followed by the savagely instigated homicidal rampages of distantly spread out Bois cronies, the christened 'Death March of Gothic City' had begun. Subsequently emerging on the streets of Gothic City, the Brahma Bull's immediate, antagonistic airborne allocation of fired XM25 CDTE grenades inciting scenes of graphic violence and architectural impairment of the city, intent on destructively gravitating all opposition towards him.

"HAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHAAA!" Smiles just couldn't help but laugh out loud as he watched the chaos from a random rooftop in the city. A symphony of explosions, screaming and gunfire filled the air just like the bellowing smoke from all over Gothic. He didn't care who caused this, why they caused it or how. All that mattered to the clown king of crime was all of the lovely possibilities...

Not even twenty minutes later, Smiles had one foot of a grinning, dead crony. "Hmmm.." Smiles hummed with excited interest as he grabbed the earpiece from the victim, sticking it in his own white ear along with picking up his AK-47. "Helllloooo!? Anybody on the love line!? HAHAHAHAAAA! Hehe..Come now don't be shy! Someone needs a pat on the back for this piece of art, dare I say this person is after my heart..Heheheh.." Smiles spoke into the mic with ease as he slowly walked towards a cop cruiser on scene, emptying a few rounds into the authority figures.

Taking one of their pistols and handcuffs, the clown was in the cop cruiser, speeding down the street.

David was walking down the streets of Gothic city his clothes which were at this point were more akin to rags then clothes were wet from the recent rainfall he had hoped to die of pneumonia but no such luck when all of the sudden things around him exploded. David fell down and noticed that he was surrounded by complete darkness he wondered if he was finally dead that was until the giant stone demon that had appeared to protect him stood up allowing light to pour in .

David stood up and looked around Gothic city which was seemingly peaceful moments ago was in shambles people lied dead on the street suddenly he heard gunfire some armed men who saw the stone golem which he had come to know as .Azkabar and they began shooting at it in fear of the frightening demon Azkabar took their shots with ease and speed at him while on the ground

Azkabar could match the speed of any car as he did not have legs and instead his bottom half was attached to the ground long powerful arms shot out from Azkabar's body .At the numerous foes and with each strike several sickening cracks could be heard as the men were quickly dispatched as he watched this happen David realized something maybe he could finally use this curse for good this time .As Azkabar dealt with the remaining gun men David yelled at him.

"Azkabar i want you to help me save these people by taking the bad guys out you can go as wild as you want as long as you only kill the bad men do we have an agreement."

Azkabar looked at David with a stone face then finally a smile spread across it which was as close to a yes as David would get Azkabar grabbed David and set him on the stone demon's shoulders and off they went to put an end to the chaos.

Pre-Attack

Having watched the intimidatingly menacing video posted on YouTube by the illicitly destructive Brahma Bull with attentive eyes, his breathing shifting from heavy sighs to light pants simply experiencing a myriad of complex emotions, understandably fearful for his own life, yet, even more fearful and sorrowful for the lives which would unfairly be taken from the world. His overbearing sense of heroism however refuting all personal doubt about himself knowing, having no shadow of a doubt, he would be one of the few heroes to mercilessly stand against the Guerrilla Goliath uncaring of personal safety. A trait showcased by only a few of the worlds elite, superior heroes.

Switching off his laptop Kurt prepared himself for combat donning his newly acquired Strigidae attire which would aid in his hopeful victory over the Bull's men, and, the Goliath himself. An extensive array of external weaponry in the form of deadly knives and two simple pistols holstered within the armor, combined with his internal energy conversion abilities allowing for external constructs to be manifested, Kurt felt safe in the assurance he could combat this particular threat without sustaining injury akin to his previous bout with the man. Preparing for the impending battle within Gothic knowing criminal after criminal would use this as an excuse to run rampant, Kurt was ready to forsake his usual morales and engage fire with fire, uncaring if he accidentally killed. Tightly gripping his emerald bow Kurt took off from within his undisclosed safehouse ready to perform his duties to the city.

Post-Attack

The wind blew through Kurt's blonde hair his fists continuously clenching and unclenching due to the apprehension knowing the forthcoming night would be make or break for Gothic, the carnage had already manifested itself and the streets were more violent than ever before, the police somewhat overrun the heroic community nowhere in sight. The supposed savior of the city, Dark Vengeance, had mishandled his duties in helping the city and abandoned it, the Mutant Affairs Agency had further left the scene. All other caped crusaders have seemingly deserted the area. In hindsight, due to the lack of heroes and outside assistance, Kurt had unknowingly placed himself as the Gothic Knight, being the only continuous hero in the face of undeniable danger. Jumping down from his building with characteristic prowess performing a skillful combat roll prior to breaking into an accelerated sprint his arms swinging by his side as his body picked up momentum. Literally running through the city quickly combating any illicit criminals in sight trying his hardest to quell down the violence. Having defeated over twenty three thugs, Kurt's internal radio implanted within his suit alerted him to the destructive consequences of the major Gothic Bridge's utter collapse. Other smaller explosions rippled through the city causing a secondary wave of anarchy. Soon after helping another family escape a burning building and showing them shelter into the underground where some police officers had started sheltering families Kurt made his way towards the possible location of the Bull himself after tapping into some police feeds.

Making his way forwards his eyes widened in distress at the sight of multiple assailants marching through the city, realizing without any external aid nor police assistance he would be left devastated by this wave of unmitigated criminality, knowing stealth and surprise were his biggest advantage Kurt made his way through a building besides the Goliath, exiting through the rooftop entrance, his emerald bow tightly grasped between his fingers, quickly adopting an archers stance Kurt loaded a single arrow onto his bow. His sights trained upon the destructive @brahma_bull, Kurt crouched, held his breath....And fired, a single, verdant arrow which sped through the air with a silent whip attempting to embed itself into the Bull's gigantic torso, upon connection, the arrow would explode with the same strength as a standard military grenade. Peering over the side trying to see the consequences of his attack unknowingly leaving himself open for a relation if any of the cronies or the Goliath himself saw him.

It had been almost four months since Peter had left the closed down academy for mutants and retreated back to the dark, dirty alleyways of Gothic city to hide. It was the only real place he knew, the only place he was truly familiar with which in itself was fairly pathetic, he had gained much more power and the ability to atone for what Last Pyre had done to this world but had not used it as he had no real idea what he could do to actually help people. He may have been an eight foot tall skeleton with strong armour and a massive sword to match but he still had the mind of a seven-teen year old boy with very limited experience when it came to fighting and while he didn't have much to fear considering that he was already dead he didn't want to slice some child's head off while trying to save him from some mad man. He decided that it would be best to keep to himself away from the public eye until he felt it was a good time to come out of hiding and in doing so he practised his fighting moves and sword technique which very difficult with nothing but bins to practice on, nevertheless the he eventually got used to the weight and balance of the gigantic sword and could now consistently hit the same mark with his strikes and became by all-standards a decent swordsman.Which to him was an all-round improvement to before when he missed about every swing. Still determined to make sure he knew what he was doing when it came to the fight he practised he bone-kinesis other the months and trained hard eventually pinning down the right technique so that manipulating his own bones was very little effort, he knew that there was more to this power, this gift of his but he couldn't quite find it. Peter hoped that in time he would discover the true extent of his power.

However, instead of delivering knowledge, time only delivered destruction. Explosions around Peter woke him from his skeletal slumber and he quickly ran to the opening of the alley and peered out to see what was happening. The scene was disgustingly similar to one of Last Pyre's earlier rampages and Peter had flash backs to New York, if it weren't for the fact that Peter had managed to suppress the demon then there would be no doubt that all this fire would set him off. Peter dread the thought of Last Pyre adding to the destruction and began to think of his next course of action, he had no real idea who was responsible for this so there was no use chasing them down and from where he was standing there didn't seem to be any super powered threat and to him the only real logical course of action would be to try and save the lives of as many innocents as he could. Yes He thought At least I can't screw that up too badly. And with that he sprinted out of the alley way looking around to see who he could help and it didn't take long, he was only running for about five minutes when he came up to the burning flats hearing the faint cries of panic as the the people on the ground floor were trying in vain to open the door and without thinking he ran up to the door which was shaking as people tried to open it. "Stand back!" Shouted Peter as loud as he could "I'm with the fire department!" He shouted once more to try and reassure the people on the other side. He heard a fearful "OK!" emitted from the other side of the door. He waited a minute so that he was sure that they were out of the way and Peter drew and plunged his sword into the door and pulled it back out smoothly creating a largish gap in the door, he put his big skeletal hand into the hole and gripped the door before ripping it off its hinges and freeing the innocents inside. He stood to the side and allowed them to run out, they were about to thank him when they saw what had saved them. Peter's giant skeletal form frightened the crowd who said he was the Devil before running away. Peter sighed and then quickly realised that there might be more people inside and he wasn't going to leave them just because the public thought he was a monster.

He made his way up the stairs only just feeling the heat of the flames on his bones as they slowly adapted to the conditions and he shouted "Does any one need help!". As he reached the top of the stairs he realised that he was quite lucky that they were still holding strong and he so he knew that he would have to work quickly and carefully when saving these next people. These doors weren't as tough as the one on the ground floor and were easily ripped off, but almost everyone took a couple more minutes than needed to evacuate simply because they didn't want to trust the large skeleton. Peter didn't judge them though and simply tried his best to save them anyway he could and before he knew it he had managed to get all of the people before the building began to completely fall apart. He stood proud of his work and sucked in the small victory before then realising that there were a countless number of people to save in this city. There was no way he could save them all by himself but he had to hope that others would arrive to lend their helping hand. And he ran to the next building to repeat his good acts.

Mistro came to gothic as soon as heard about the events that were transpiring.

Wow, things went really bad here really fast didn’t they?He thought to himself, as he walked down a street in Gothic. A select bunch of people were actually supporting the guy who started all of this. A group of rebels were standing atop some two story convenience store yelling about “the establishment” and “rebellion” Mistro wasn’t really listening,and he wasn’t at all scared or shock about the uproar around him,as shocking as it is,mice aren’t timid at all.Mistros thoughts were rudely interrupted by a single sentence “We don’t care about the rul-….Is that a giant f*cking mouse?what the f*ck?” the rebel with the microphone yelled pointing at Mistro, someone in the crowd yelled “kill it!” The leader of the rebels reached into his pocket,began to pull out a gun,and then after a blur of speed lasting only a second,he felt Mistro’s cold adamantium blade slip into his flesh. “Agh-ughh- he mumbled as blood seeped out on the sword. He dropped the megaphone and collapsed onto the cold concrete ground with a thud,dead.

Mistro had absolutely no qualms with killing. He watched as the other rebels fled in horror of the sword-wielding mouse. Blood dripped down Mistros cloak as he thoughtmen and women worked hard to build this city,and some ridiculous rebel is just going to come in and ruin it all?This was once my home.And with that,he decided he would do everything within his power to stop the chaos.
He decided the best way to go about this was going after the source,the so-called Brahama Bull.
He listened intently for a voice or some sort of lead. After listening for a moment he heard what sounded like grenades going off in the distance,on the other side of the city.
Mistro dashed down alleyways, vaulting over cars, knocking over trash cans, avoiding cars with panicked drivers and he finally reached his destination.He could see Brahama Bull standing atop a roof. Hoping he wasn’t spotted, Mistro decided he would try to sneak up.
He silently made his way to the back of a building, behind the building Brahama was on.Mistro wanted to keep his distance.He silently climbed the fire escape of the building to the top,and looked at Brahama. Mistro was absolutely stunned at the sight of him,he was massive,at least seven feet tall and all muscle.
Mistro tapped his G.D.S and became invisible.Mistro was more scared then he would like to admit so he went with a stealth maneuver.He silently crept to the edge of his building, and teleported across the gap to the building Brahama was on.
Cold wind blew through the dark Gotham,but fired blazed across rooftops lighting the city up,crashed cars sat abandoned on the sidewalk,people were still running and screaming.
Mistro sheathed his sword,drew his two pistols and aimed them at Brahama,one aimed at his neck,one at the center of his back.
He switched his pistols to stun,and fired two stun bolts.

Nobody's late week was incredibly irksome, brawls all over the city, including an extraneous rock goliath, tons of exams and genetic modification, his metabolism was perfected by the most unexpected ally, Andres Knightfall, who proportioned a chance to aid on the upcoming events and face the Brazi Bull, aiming at a glorious triumph. A new suit was also developed for the event, remarking the most perceptible novel ability and matching the freshly acquired set of equipment. Black and red were the chosen colors, a similar pattern to his earlier armor, yet, instead of a huge vermilion 'V', Craig opted for a black spider, centered at his chestplate. Altough he had non-killing morals, massive events requested lethiferous measures, unfortunately, many lifes would be reaped so innocent lifes were spared.

Gothic was known to be a chaotic and corrupt city, but since the transmission of the future assault on YouTube was perceived by the uncaring eyes of both citizens and government, peace was no longer within it. The balance of fate had been affected. Precisely five hours afterwards the video went viral, detonations could be sighted all over Gothic, humongous orange toned explosions erupted, garnishing the night with debris, corpses and crimson blood. Countless deaths, more to befall wheter the abruptly invasion and chaos wasn't restrained. Officers gave their lifes to protect the population, innocent people suffering for an aleatory, obscure goal.

Nobody sighted the petrified city turning to ashes, the most primitive instinct, survival, awaken due to its ultimate importance, the path to safety, blocked. His hands clenched in fists of rage, only he couldn't aid those people. Nobody's main and single intention was to defeat the mastermind behind the thoroughly orchestrated scheme, the man behind the curtains, Brahma Bull. Unsure about his foe's location, the Ultimate Insect swung building after building, seeking for the objective. Utilizing his 360° field of view, Luke was able to perceive three distinct figures, two uncharted allies and the goliath. "Seems like I'm not the only one who wants this motherf***er out of town."

Twisting his body accurately, the Anonymous Cruzader rapelled at a flaming building's exterior, propelling himself forwards and releasing from the web. A diving kick, addressing Bull's chestplate, which would hopefully be triumphant virtually at the same time Mistro's stunning projectiles hit the Militant Mammoth's unprotected skin. If the attack was succesful, Craig would somersault backwards, landing upright, somewhat near Pyro. His Arachnid 'Arms' leisurely departing from its case, supplementing the astounding powered Nobody with necessary strenght and better sutainability.

@pyrogram: @mr_smiles: @mastermouse: @_nobody_:

Openly submerging himself in the perverse self-commendation of the vehemently fomented destruction, prominently audible laughs of sadistically voiced contentment escaped the Brahma Bull's monstrous frame. "HA!", auricular gratification of the environmentally afflicting mayhem dictating the South American terrorist's elated disposition, inherently uplifted by the rampant massacre and architectonic demolition. "The cries of the people, like a sweet serenade". A manically auditory voice spontaneously emitted from his minuscule communicator momentarily incited the redirection of his attention. "Whoever this is, spread my chaos, my mayhem, disharmony, my anarchy", the echoing, roaring depths of his minacious voice instructing the unacquainted Clown King of Crime to further drive Gothic City into abyssal pandemonium.

In the immediate aftermath of his pithy lexical exchange with the alabaster-faced Smiles, an ambient divergence in aromatic airflow fervently alerted the psychopathic revolutionary of the imminent antagonism of an aerial projectile. Incapable of contending with the malachite arrow's aerially boasted rapidity, the Militant Mammoth's exposed back was graphically punctured, a picturesque layer of his genetically accumulative muscular tissue, disheveled by a violently wound. Embedded in his back, a verdigris arrow, sanguine liquid streaming from the sustained impalement. Growling in voiced annoyance, afflicted primarily by superficial damage, the Brahma Bull was subsequently surprised by the pyrotechnic eruption of an incendiary explosion, the super heated air copulated with the explosion's fiery projection, succeeding in the graphic burning of compiling layers of flesh. Forced onto his left knee by the concussive will of the explosion, the Brazi Bull, in a succinct moment of misinterpreted masochism, smirked underneath his pictorially menacing gas-mask.

"So puto, you did not die that day, hm?", lethargically rising to both feet, his genetically originating toughness coupled with the protective properties of his Type lV ballistic vest having substantially diminished the potential antagonistic output of Pyro's incipient assault. A concisely maintained series of sarcastically expressive claps ensued, simultaneously mocking and commending Pyro's cerebral approach. Had he not been clad in his protective adornments, the damage would have impaired him. Briefly examining the building his opponent had selected as a temporary abode, Brahma determined, it's minuscule size and disrupted structural integrity stemming from age and the previously instigated detonations pleaded for exploitation. With deceptive rapidity for one of his gargantuan frame, Brahma charged, rushing towards the approximated building, barbarously crashing into it with a frantic shoulder barge, dismantling it's structural foundation and spurring it's impending collapse while Pyro remains situated atop it's forsaken rooftop.

A secondary attack on his person followed however, this one clearly devoid of the Emerald Knight's machinations. A dyad of stun bullets targeted his exposed neck and back. Allowing his ballistic vest to account for the bullet speeding for his back, the subsequent bullet narrowly pierced the durably thick hide of his exposed neck. The cinematic accuracy wordlessly implying a shooter of immaculate pedigree and impeccable lethality. The resultant electric shock from the stun bullet however, failing in it's objective to disrupt the superficial muscle functions of his neck, Brahma Bull's monstrous physical resistance enabling his unfazed disposition. Instantaneously antagonized by a returning Nobody's opening diving kick, a subtle backwards jerk from the kinetic force of the kick served as a testament to the vigilante's prowess, the Brahma Bull's formidable durability and protective attire shielding him from the majority of it's damage, the only attack of substantial potency having been Pyro's. "How appropriate. All of you here, now".

Tersely indulged in nefarious, verbal taunting, the Guerrilla Goliath darkly promised, "Allow me to offer you due hospitality", he mockingly quipped, "Welcome to your final resting place. This city as you see it will be your grave". Immediately following his lingual affirmation, a hurled cluster of RKG-3 Anti-Tank Grenades targeted all three valorous heroes, ejected pins falling against the topographically perverted ground as erupting explosions of 170 mm armor penetration capacity threatened to decimate Nobody, Pyro, and the unacquainted 'mouse'.

Smiles cruised down the street at a casual speed, his grin wider than usual due to the chaos happening just outside the vehicle, this was heaven. First was the surplus store. The clown waltzed in and without a second thought, shot the store owner in the face along with a cackle. "Hope you don't mind, but I have some quick shopping to do and simply can't be bothered to pay! HAHA!"

Gothic Demcody hospital...

Three minutes, it took three minutes for Mr.Smiles to shoot his way through the lobby, everyone. He was now on the second floor, shooting everyone that came into sight with a M249 light machine gun. "WE HAVE A FLAT LINE IN ROOM 2-A!...AND B C D E F G! HAHAHAHAAA!" Smiles tossed the occasional frag grenade in a patients room, shredding them to bits.

This was the joke of the night for Mr.Smiles. All of the city's defenders, it's "sworn knights" and "protectors" all lunged at the start up, and here was the punchline, literally killing a few innocents a second, and no do gooder was in sight. A laugh came with every single shell casing that hit the tile floor, the flashes of the gun presenting a collage of frightening faces with their hands in front of them like it was going to stop the pain. The floors started to become slicker and slicker, Smiles slipping up on a puddle of blood every odd minute.

Some finally reached the elevator, of course rigged with TNT to explode as soon as the door opened. The floor's lights flickered from the massive boom, the sprinklers turning on almost instantly after, it only spread the blood about more.

So many screams at once, so many cries. And yet, it all sounded like a ballad of laughter to the Clown. King. Of. Crime...

Third floor...

The war had gone cold, the conflict between homo sapiens and homo superiors had dialed down. Venezuela was for the time at peace, free from the crossfire and all was well. Except that was a world that would never happen, this land of oppression would need revolution to change and that had yet to come. It was time that someone made it clear that flame was not dead, this conflict was not over. For all heroics in the city her efforts to keep it peaceful it was time to show that this would not conclude in passive actions. So the question became, where? What action would be taken to trigger the desired aftermath? What step made it clear she craved mayhem a revolutionary change. She was siting in a parking lot in a city near Gothic browsing Youtube when her attention was snagged. A threat was made, and soon as many cars were trying to pass the bridges and get clear, at least one car drove in. This city was told it would burn and she would aid in bringing it to ash as the population was promised.

15 Minutes Before The Attack

A young boy in a state of panic and fear left the bar against his will. His hair was green and the fem fatale could see a trace of scales on his skin, a mutant. “What happened?” She proceeded to ask sympathetically.

“He’s trying to keep as few people in the bar to evade detection of attackers and boarding up the walls at least that is what he said.” A brow arched suggesting the kid should tell what he thought to be the real reason. “I have seen him like this before he won’t confess to it but he’s against mutants.”

“Typical, just run get as far from this place as you can. Away from the city preferably.” She tossed the young mutant her keys before entering the bar herself. She was instantly graced by the numerous and various smells of such a place. It was a pub of once lavish interior that had lost some of its grand design to age and lack of funds to manage it. That was the very fabric of this city after all, the rich got wealthier by many means and not all were spoken of to the news. Meanwhile the pore grew in number and more in debt. In enough time all the victims would owe their souls to the wealthy in the cruel cycle of the sapiens. This was just another example, one more place crumbling to poverty when it really didn’t need to. Aged paint, a few holes from fights these were common in the local now. As for the people within the quickly being sealed domain none seemed redeemable to the lady that entered. These were people in rags, lost the will to fight. As for the cleaner ones in suits and stinking of fear they were wealthy spoiled wh-res to her. They didn’t have a right to live.

“Relax Bill nobody is going to blow up your ran down bar. No aliens are going to kidnap your dogs and no the government isn’t paying me to say that shit.” Evidently this sapien knew the owner Bill and his paranoia. She got a bit of laugh at the foolish beings before her.

“Shut up Micky!” He paused the video on Youtube as he spoke. “Look at this man he isn’t bluffing. I gamble a lot, I deal with a lot of under aged drinkers, drug addicts and con artists. I have seen my fair share of bull shiters and this guy ain’t bull shiting. These people are gona massacre everyone. We hide here locked up as tight as we can then we go into the cellar when the devil comes a knockin.”

“Would you two shut up my baby is trying to sleep. I really don’t want her to have to witness this.” Jade eyes looked to the woman who had spoken to Bill and Micky. Evidently she mistook her belongings with a blanket over them as her child, bulged veins dried blood and two red dots told the truth however. This woman was a drug addict, her latest fix made her unaware of where her child even was. “I wish I was a mutant or somtin den maybe I could help this place.” The slurred speaking drugged up woman remarked in continuation while barely even managing to stand.

“No ya don’t Carol you know I can’t stand them freaks. You wouldn’t have a safe haven just be collateral damage. Hell you’d just be picked apart by Cape Killers anyway you can’t fight. Not to mention I bet mutants are even more vulnerable to drugs. They also smell bad, and are more like rats then people and”

“Silence.”

Carol Bill and Micky, as well as everyone else, turned to the leather clad redhead who’d spoken. Her radiant green eyes looked to them in little more then annoyance. “I am so tired of your kind and your obvious idiotic notions and blatant stupidity. Some thousand years ago some guy walks on water you call him a prophet of god, a magician does it today and you loathe him. Today you go to church and babble in some language you don’t know, not so long ago speaking in tongues or whatever could be a sign of witchcraft best burn the bitch. Someone has blood that can cure most diseases, but you’d never take that transfusion because holly f-ck the donor is a mutant. Most of you maybe I could tolerate if you would just shut the hell up but you don’t! No rather you talk and talk and talk and talk and talk. Your worse than religious freaks at my door.” A gun was soon cocked and pointed at her head, the dual barrels not phasing her remotely.

“I recognize you now! Azrayne. A hero of the mutant population and VLA Elite. Get out of my bar.”

“You don’t have one.”

A glow began to come off the black clad beauty before in a almost missable moment so quick it was almost unclear much of the bar was pulled to her. Glass furniture people and all, then the slight pull resulted in a dreaded explosion. Flesh melted then muscle, then bone. From full figures to ash such was the transformation. Wood furniture suffered much the same fate, metal was molten slag on the floor. Buildings near by suffered a black out from the EMP of the explosion. Smoke billowed into the skies it stood out amongst the rest. For the smoke was not a pillar of black but rather a mushroom cloud. From it rained the foul smelling ash of the dead humans. Azrael unscathed stepped from the ashes eager to see just how much damage she could get away with.

@brahma_bull:

Kurt's emerald tinted eyes attentively watched as his verdant arrow majestically flew through the air and embedded itself into the Mutant Militants excessively intimidating body. The arrow having forgone the mans attention stealthily enacting its explosive capacities quickly rendering the Goliath onto one knee due to its incendiary and shocking lethality. Kurt's elevated senses however caught sight of the noticeably nonchalant opponent masochistically enjoying the pain unlike a normal human who would have fallen in the face of such explosive potency, Kurt intuitively prepped another single arrow upon his emerald bow readying himself to propel another life altering arrow in the Militants direction, however, his eyes caught sight of two unexpected assaults upon the Chaos Messiah who simply brushed off the attacks like they had been a mere paper cut, instead opting to barbarously crash into Kurt's current position causing the precise Paragon to take immediate action in the form of recklessly jumping forth from his position onto the unforgiving concrete ground dangerously nearing the location of the grounded Mutant Militant.

Free falling from the building as its structural integrity was maliciously dismantled the debris and shrapnel flying in all directions sending a smoke screen to envelop the immediate area, the crushing sound deafening Kurt for a few seconds as his body was smashed onto the ground following a skilfully enacted combat roll at the last second to dissipate his gravitational potential energy upon meeting the ground with hard force, his recently acquired Arcani armor absorbing the brunt of the damage save for a few cuts and bruises. Landing a few feet away from the Goliath himself leaning (falling) against an abandoned car his back pressed against such object scanning the immediate area readying himself for inevitable conflict, his studiously assessing eyes caught sight of the nefariously thrown Anti-Tank Grenades realizing they would cause unrecoverable harm to his person without a prompt response. Kurt instantly reacted with a few seconds to spare, performing somewhat of a backflip scaling the cars metallic body placing himself behind using it as an unorthodox shielding from the ricochet of explosions which rippled through the air sending deadly shrapnel in all directions.

The initial shockwave of the blasts was strong enough to send a violent vibration through Kurt's body regardless of the cover he was so tactically stationed behind, however, the penetration capacities of the explosives has been unaccounted for a single piece of burning shrapnel had managed to fly through not just the cars metallic defenses but also through his Strigidae armor embedding itself deeply into his lower left thigh severely damaging his movements. Crying out from behind the van with noticeable anguish, Kurt knew this situation required him to mentally transcend the physical damage sustained painfully jumping free from the cover of the car and looking downwards, unaware that this Arcani armor had been his saving grace, multiple lacerations across his chest and arms had been averted, it now obvious, the armor had shielded him from over ten possible penetrations. If this fight had taken place a week before, Kurt would now be suffering from multiple punctured internal organs and possibly facing a gruesome death.

Facing down the Goliath with angered eyes Kurt gnarled prior to speaking, "You're wrong. You strive to liberate the city from itself, by murdering the citizens?" Kurt swiftly withdrew two trenchant daggers both 30 centimes in length holding them in an inverted grip so the blades pointed towards the ground "...You die,here" Breaking into an outright sprint ignoring the mentally destructive pain continually aching in his injured thigh, Kurt skillfully utilized a downed slab on the floor pressing his foot against it during his accelerated sprint, pushing himself off of the slab and raising both of his palms into the air attempting to fall onto the Goliath and dig both of his trenchantly sharpened knives into the Goliath's shoulders or chest, if either penetrated, he would supercharge the knives with enough thermal energy causing them to explode like grenades prior to possibly pushing himself off of the Militants chest avoiding the blast radius and land safely back down in a crouched position, his head tilting upwards hopefully seeing the results of his attack.

@614azrael: David was riding on Azkabar when he noticed a building being destroyed he sniffed the air and he recognized the smell it was the aroma of burning flesh unfortunately he had become rather acquainted with this smell .But this was different it was rather fresh almost like it had been recent David pointed to the direction of the smoke "Azkabar head that way i wanna see if their are any survivors "understanding the command the stone demon took off towards the destroyed building .

As they entered the area he quickly saw how hopeless the situation was their was no way anybody would have survived a fire like that as David began to lose hope he noticed a girl walking away from the building "hey miss you should get out of here this place is dangerous now "David said trying to warn the girl . Azkabar also turned his head to the girl and he saw something David could not and his stone eyes began to glow red and a deep growl escaped from him .

David realized what was about to happen "Azkabar stop "but it was to late he could not stop the stone demon all he could do was look on in horror a large fist emerged from the stone demon's torso and began rapidly heading straight for the girl in an attempt to smash her .

@mr_smiles: @honor_girl

"Honor girl, stay in position. If you get an opening take the shot, I'll go after him".

This psychopath has been terrorizing Gothic city and it is time to put a stop to it before he disappears and it becomes nearly impossible to predict his next move. His killing has no pattern except his for his "Smiley toxin" as they call it; he picks random victims to kill; men, women, children, even sometimes dogs and tonight it stops. I know that there is the possibility that he might escape Bedlam asylum again and I know what the only way to truly ever stop him is but I can't allow myself to go down to his level. Because if I was to kill him I would put him through every torture I could think of and then I would end him.

I can't do that for the peoples Gothic, the people of Gothic city need to know that there are still protectors watching over them, that they are not alone in this struggle for survival, that there is someone strong enough to fight the monsters for them. This is who we are; there are no good or bad people in Gothic. There are only monsters and knights Cowl, hood, mask we seek the same thing. We seek to protect our city from those who choose to destroy what we stand for, those who choose to destroy us. Tonight we will stop this virus that entered our city's blood and decided to kill it slowly, tonight this anarchy ends.

As I crash into the second floor I see the blood spattered all over the floor and walls, bullet shells and holes. I wish I could say that this is shocking, that I haven't seen a monster like this before but I have. I've fought against monsters like these all my life and I can tell you one thing from experience. They never change, they don't even try to change their own way because violence and death is all they know and all they will ever know. Until someone kills them or they kill themselves.

I hear the maniac laughing as I go to the third floor and I hear them screaming, for a moment I think that he might not be human that is until I see him, I see the embodiment of all the despair in this world, of the senselessness that took the life of my parents, the random violence in his smile and for the first time in a long time I lose my grip. My heart goes out its trained steadiness, my fists clench, and my eyes seem as if they are bursting into flames. I'll give him the first shot, the only true chance that he will get to attack me.

@mr_smiles:

Gothic Demcody hospital...

As the death march continued in the streets of Gothic a new player joined the game. Isaac Corvus walked past the piles of corpses lying about the hospital lobby with a calm, steady stride. Tugging and pulling at his new suit every once in a while Isaac moved up the flights of stairs to the beat and rhythm of bullets shredding flesh and bombs destroying homes. A whistle began between Isaac's lips as his step picked up. Finally he came to the floor he was looking for and ran his hand through his hair.

As the sound of screams and an insane laughter filled the hallway beyond Isaac began to stretch his arms and legs ending the limbering with a quick few jumping jacks. The door to floor three began to open but got stuck on something at the other side. Annoyed that it already took him so long to get to the scene Corvus put an angry thrust to the door and heard a rough sliding sound. Finally he had the villain in sight, the "hero" cracked his knuckles and then his neck before briskly jogging past the grouping of crumbled bodies by the door and towards the crazed clown.

After coming to the back of the assailant Isaac let out his over-practiced line. "Halt villain! Your day of reckoning is at hand, for now you must face... The Chimera!" Sadly the clown didn't hear the mighty Chimera over the rapid fire of his machine gun, the sound of screaming, and finally his own dark laughter. Slightly pissed off Isaac brought out the tiger and the left side of his face contorted and shifted into a more primal, viscous form. "Excuse me villain. If you don't stop firing that weapon than i'm going to have to force it down your throat." Roared Chimera over the chaos.

@mr_smiles: @darkknightdetective: well this is awkward

@mr_smiles: @darkknightdetective:

The situation only got worse. After saving nearly two hundred people from their timely demise in the burning buildings he began to see just how terrible things were, he left one of the office buildings and looked onto the sheer chaos around him as the civilians behind him ran to the nearest alive authority. Deep down he could hear it, the small sound of the demon Last Pyre laughing non-stop at the destruction and mayhem. This is nouse thought Peter with some anger feeling as though he could nothing to stop the death or destruction, he tried to think of something that could better help and something that could stop this mess at the source. He'd seen other people who clearly possessed power go after one man earlier and Peter knew that they would probably be able to care care of that problem but somehow there was still more and more destruction, clearly there was someone else that he hadn't seen yet and the only question was... who? However, to Peters fortune he spotted off in the distance a what appeared to be a white faced man with green hair get out of a police walk into a large surplus store armed and with unknown intent.

Peter just stood their wondering what on Earth the man was doing, then it hit him like a truck and he was already running over but he was to late. By the time he had even started there was a gun shot and maniacal laughter clearly indicating that some mad man had probably just shot whoever owned the store, he ran and he ran but he was too far away to begin with and just wasn't quick enough to catch the killer who he only got a better look at as he saw him drive off with many supplies. "Dammit!" Yelled Peter his eye sockets becoming full of flame, the man had escaped him and he failed to protect yet another civilian. However, he still chased after the car and tried his best to keep up and follow it hoping for the white faced man to eventually get out once more so he could punish him. After about ten minutes of following and almost losing the car Peter managed to find it parked outside one of the hospital buildings "no..." he said knowing that the people inside were likely to die if he didn't intervene. He charged the door of the hospital as the sound of gun fire and explosions filled the air and Peter fuelled with anger roared and furiously ran after the crazed man going up the stairs and giving each floor a good look before continuing on, his boots were covered in blood and the pounding noise of him running was replaced by the splashing of thick crimson blood, it was lucky that he was a skeleton otherwise he may have thrown up at the sight. He got up to the third floor and found the man who this close almost looked like a bit of a clown, without waiting another second Peter shouted loudly "HEY!" to get the attention of the murderer. He saw that someone had already just arrived as he did and Peter assumed it was to stop the white faced man, he refocused on the clown and decided to attack.

The massive skeleton that was Peter did not draw his sword thinking that it would much more satisfying to punch the man with his own two fists. He didn't run or charge but just walked very quickly to the clown with his armoured fists raised slightly and ready to fight. He wasn't worried too much about the guns as the bullets were about as painful as paint balls at close range and his bones could keep up and repair the damage well enough to make sure that he would get within punching distance which would not be too difficult. If he did manage to get close to the man at any point he would keep trying to punch him wherever he could and preferably trying to strike the head to attempt to knock him out, if the clown tried dodging he would simply keep trying to punch him in either the main body or head again and again whilst also throwing in a kick here and there to try and trip up the white faced man. It wasn't exactly the best combat strategy but Peter did not have the benefit of ever learning an actual fighting style and so had to go with his gut on where to punch next and how to combo up his punches and kicks, however with his immense strength accompanied armoured feet and hands even if his attacks were poorly executed it would still have a devastating impact on whoever was on the receiving end of the blows. All the while Peter would make sure not to punch the other man in the face.

@mr_smiles: @darkknightdetective: @lastpyre:

Isaac sensed two other pieces being laid across the board. A low growl grew in the Chimera that surfaced rather quickly. His plans were already falling to pieces in his hands. He sat strangely still and waited for the clown to realize he had a couple friends. Hopefully the other two freaks were capes at least then he could tell them to fuck of his kill.

@chimera_: @lastpyre: @darkknightdetective: Smiles was now in more laughter then he has been in for months. A bat-fake, a burning skeleton and a beast man from the circus, all very suddenly surrounding and attacking him. The best part was, he didn't even have to move a single muscle to let the chaos ensue.

First, the punch from the fake, colliding with Smiles face with brutal force. It was even strong enough to send him flying back, and started to slide across the floor even further away due to all the blood that infested the tiles. This would let him slide right between the legs of the beast man, and the burning man's punches would find air, due to the two heroes attempting to strike the clown at once.

"HAHAHAHAAAA!" He continued to cackle while rolling backwards and got on his feet, now easily having ten feet between the trio. "Sorry gents but I promised myself fireworks if anybody were to show up! CIAO!" Smiles gave a bit of a bow, clicking the detonator he had in his hand.

Within the next few seconds, the entire hospital rumbled, every floor shaking like a leaf. The bombs the Clown King of Crime placed at the foundation of the building before his sinister massacre even started went off. Smiles himself was leaping out of the nearest window, tugging a string on his trench coat, turning it into a make shift parachute.

The hospital started to crumble down like a model as the man now responsible for a hospitals worth of innocent lives landed safely on the parking lot.

"THAT. WAS. HILARIOUS! HAHAHAHAAA!"

@lastpyre: @chimera_: @mr_smiles:

Damn it! I ran towards the new beast guy and grabbed him to push both of ourselves out of the window and landed on him. He ended up knocked out, I've never seen him before but by the looks of him it is safe to assume that he intended to kill the clown. At least that's one less problem that I have to worry about.

I could only get him, I know that the skull survived so he is not a concern. Now where is the bastard responsible for this?

"Beautiful..." Silas moaned.

Everything, ranging from the fires to the screaming to the inhuman roar and deafening thunder of chaos, brought his heart aflutter and his eyes to the brink of tears. Yet, he could not be truly satisfied. His fetish for violence would not allow merely watching such a display to sever the hoses vomiting adrenaline into his muscles. He visibly twitched. His pants tightened. Sitting atop his metal throne, he signaled for the charge.

B-Hoods, straight from Gothic City, followed the gesture without pause. Two-hundred and thirty riders all rolled into the smoking hellscape that Gothic started to fall into. The Bull had laid the foundation with his strength. The Rabbits were charged with the duty of seeding as much terror as possible. F*ck the city. Make a litter with the splattered brains and blood draining into the gutters. The MAD pumping through their veins helped them see the reality behind life, that it all sucked, that it all needed to f*cked!

The Killer Rabbits Gang invaded the evacuation centers, bombing the doors open before flooding inside. They killed as many as they could outright, crucified more, and sent the rest to be drawn and quartered. More than seventy civilians were butchered with countless more injured. Even more were forced into servitude or kidnapped for future abuse on a degenerate level. Like raiders patrolling an apocalyptic wasteland, the Killer Rabbits were responsible for lighting most of the suburbs south of downtown on fire as well as looting, enslaving, and murdering their way deeper into the metropolis itself. Police were baffled at the speed at which they operated. They could barely keep the B-Hoods at bay, let alone deal with them completely with the anarchy they already faced.

And at the head of it all rode Silas the Lunatic, licking his lips free of the arterial blood he drank from the mangled throats he chewed out one after another. A lone B-Hood approached him on request.

"Find me the man who started this sh!t. I want to congratulate him personally," Silas murmured.

The B-Hood complied with a 'yessir' and hopped on his bike, disappearing shortly afterward.

"Bet you five b!tches he dies while en route." Mr. Ultraviolence whispered to another subordinate on standby to his left.

@mr_smiles: @614azrael: @ownagepants:

The clown man laughed similarly to how Last Pyre would sometimes laugh, it always seemed to be full of joy with a slight after tinge of pure hate hidden away, trying to hit the man when there were two other people around was and he thanked himself for not using his sword. But now the man was back on his feet and promptly pressed a small box with a red button oh sh!t thought Peter to himself who followed the white face man as the building began to shake and crumble around him. He jumped out the window and without a second thought Peter followed him, but unlike the mad man he didn't have to worry about the fall and went barrelling down right towards the man as he made his slow decent, his initial aim was to destroy the parachute but instead he opted to try and make a safer landing for himself and would proceed to beat the living snot out of the man when he reached the parking lot. Peter fell hard and there was a crack in the ground where he landed and he broke apart crating a crack in the ground and scattering his bones apart "Well, this is awkward..." he said as he began to reconstruct himself bit by bit using his bones kinesis all while giving the mad man the perfect opportunity to escape. He grunted a little as he was put back together his bones snapping and cracking whilst melding back into where they were supposed to be, he couldn't believe that this simple man was going to get away and hoped that someone else would hopefully catch him.

It took a good two and a half minutes before he could even try to move properly and the clown had already ran away, the extra thirty seconds only sealed the deal as Peter ran after to where he guessed he was going but failed miserable and took the wrong direction and lost the trail. In anger he punched a wall and his fist went right through it, Peter wandered back onto the streets figuring that he would need to go back to saving civilians again. He searched around and followed the cries of panic and fear only to turn a corner and find a women being attacked by some stone demon with its master a little while behind it. What is going on here? Thought Peter who watched the scene unfold he decided that he would only initiate when he had determined who was the real enemy here, he was't just going to assume the rock monster and its master was bad after all he wouldn't like the same done to him. His plan for the both of them was simple though, run in with his sword and take on whomever proved to be the 'bad' one here.

@mr_smiles:

"This is Amanda Hugginkiss, coming to you with an exclusive live shot of the cataclysmic devastation currently unfolding in Gothic City. As you can see, the destruction is unimaginable. Death tolls are being estimated in the thousands......" the infamous reporter pausing to gather her composure before proceeding. "The masked terrorist now known as the Guerrilla Goliath, who, just hours earlier had gone viral with an apocalyptic forecast of doom, has seemingly attracted the criminal denizens of the World into joining his metropolitan massacre. And although a few of the city's local residents were lucky enough to escape the disaster, there is simply no way out for the remaining scores of civilians trapped within the burning city. Local law enforcement, the National Guard, as well as United States Army reserves, have been ordered to stand guard around the city limits making sure the chaos does not spread to the neighboring cities. But in truth, as Americans watch the carnage escalate, their only hopes lie with the view brave heroes defiantly waging war against the evil cabal. This Amanada Hugginkiss from Live@5, signing off............"

Meanwhile, in a shadow plagued ally of Gothic, a woman mercilessly screams

"Shuddap b!tch, slice and dice slice and dice." mocked one of her remorseless attackers. "She's dime, but gonna be broken nickle when I get through. Slice and dice." chuckled another. Using his razor sharp blade to make an incision up the terrified victims designer dress. Carefully cutting between her legs as not to accidentally injure the pretty prey, before it was time. "Did you hear that?...I heard something and it waddent no slice and dice.....someon" his words interrupted as his body went into shock. A metallic thud coinciding with the immediate termination of his verbal heckling. "What......the fck....is that......" stuttered his cowardly crony. Yet another metallic thud echoing behind him. "Aaaaah man this aint cool, this aint slic." The constriction of his throat enabling him from completing the insufferable phrase. Within moments the disturbingly violent trio lay strung out along the dirty rat invested ground of the ally. Blood slowly leaking from their wounds down towards the sewage drain."Oh THANK YOU THANK YOU." pleaded the traumatized woman. Awkwardly trying to hug the oversized robotic like mass. Gazing up with slowly developing cognizance and stepping back as the realization set in. Timidly, she turned around and nearly fell as a mirror image of the unknown savior, now behind her, leaned in to look through her eyes.

*Zzzt, Odyssey Dawn, Onyx. Report to 5th and Main. GCPD needs back up. GO!* the heard, but unseen command, prompting the enlarged metallic mammoths into flight. All around the crumbling city reports were beginning to stream-in. Super-sized black bat-motif like robots were aiding in a myriad of rescuing ways in an attempt to turn the tide. But under who's authority......?

Elsewhere:

Stepping out from the only noticeable shadow in the area, the Noir Rose emerged. Adorned in a similar, more slender body-suit like version of the mysterious robotic crusader's bulky armor. Mono-toned and gruff, the un-apologetically thought based narration of the Dark Arashikage analyzed the Crime King of Crime's abandoned parachute. "Hmm, crashed through the window, south-side. Parachute discarded, but no doubt riddled with a thousand different toxins, all lethal." remaining perfectly stoic, unwavering in his concentration.

Kneeling, the Noise Rose removed a small forensic field kit from his utility belt and examined the scene. One clue, one clue was all he needed to track one of, if not thee, greatest foe in his expanding rogues gallery.

@the_noir_rose: What was a mess to many, was all but a large book that the Rose could read oh so easily. There was without a doubt the darkest of Knightfalls could piece together the scene of Mr.Smiles making his escape.

Ten minutes ago...

Smiles hunched over, cackling his placing his burned hand over his bleeding face. The imposter gave him a good punch to his grinning face, of course he didn't feel the pain that burned him."Wow! I mean wow! We are going to need a hospital for hospitals over here! HAHAHAAA!" Smiles of course laughed at his own dark joke before strutting away, even though he clearly had a slight limp.

His fancy shoes were still laced in the blood of more than a hundred innocents, leaving neat prints every time he took a step. Waltzing down not even half a block, he left fifteen shell casings in his wake, along with fifteen bodies. Some were looters and thugs, some just frightened civilians. The blood finally dried right before the entrance to the neighborhoods play theater, closed for the weekend of course...

Now...

"NO! It's "That is the question!" NOT SCREAMS OF TERROR!" Smiles frustratingly giggled while slapping the overworked stage producer across the face, her black make-up running down her face. The clown and his hostage stood upon the stage, surrounding them was stage pieces for none other than a Hamlet play.

"It..Just doesn't feel right without a SKULL to hold in my hand as I recite these words, don't you agree my dear?" The avatar of pure evil knelt down, a look of kindness on his face that greatly contrasted the blade held to her cheek. "You wouldn't mind if I borrow yours...Would you?"

@brahma_bull: @mr_smiles: @the_noir_rose:

I don't have time to chase after him psychopath. Gothic is near destruction and she needs me to put a stop to the man responsible for this. I quickly stand up and see another shadowy figure examining the parachute that he left behind, I don't know who he is but something tells me that I should let him handle it. Before I walk up to him I handcuff the savage that tried to kill the clown with titanium handcuffs, I know that he will probably escape somehow but I don't have time to deal with him either.

I called the jet which should show up in about a minute or two, meanwhile I should assist him in any way I can. I turn on my "detective vision" and say. "I only count 98 if we're being literal,I'm probably missing a few which I could find with more precise equipment. He also left a few bloody prints on the parachute but none of them match my database so it is safe to assume that his prints don't match any database, giving you nothing on who he is. You shouldn't worry about the coat too much to get a trail, he was covered in innocent blood and is still carrying guns which most likely means that he is still killing everything that he sees. Following him shouldn't be too difficult". As I was about to continue the jet showed up and I said "If you haven't been welcomed here, this is the closest thing that you ever will get. When you find him bring him in to Bedlam asylum, I'll take care of the monster that caused all of this". I gave him a small nodand I grappled myself into the jet with Honor girl and drove away to Downtown Gothic.

I'm tired of all the death in this city caused by people like him, people who think that they understand this city despite never seeing it before. Because not even I understand Gothic and I have lived here all my life. You can never fully understand Gothic city, because she changes every day. Every day she is someone different, sometimes she is like a caring mother who only wishes to protect you and sometimes she is like a predator who only wishes to eat you alive. Tonight, Gothic city is anarchy and she needs to be stopped.

The jet drops smoke bombs and I dive into the war zone while Honor girl takes position. Once this was once a populated area now it is a tomb covered in blood and dead bodies everywhere. They will be avenged if it's the last thing I do, he will pay for his crimes.

I activate my electric knuckles and run towards the bastard bull in order to hit him with a right hook, I could hit him so hard that my fist would go right through his thick skull but I don't want to. I want him to suffer for all of this before I bring him in, I won't go down to his pathetic level of problem solving where he sees no other alternative than to kill everyone to solve the world's problems. It's people like him that make do this, that make me fight to the death every night and I will never stop until I die. I have to protect the innocent from people like him.

@brahma_bull@pyrogramA grenade flying straight for his little mouse face,this was not something that happened every day,and he didnt like the feeling at all.
Mistro knew the grenade would obliterate him,but he was barely even worried.
He swatted the grenade away with his tail not the least bit worried,until it clicked in his mind that the grenade was an anti-tank grenade,much stronger than an average grenade.
The grenade exploded a distance away from the building sending shrapnel straight for him.
Mistro whipped his cape in front of himself,using it as a shield,the blast sent him tumbling across the rooftop. Two shards ripped through the cloak,one flew into his shoulder and he cried out in pain, the second shard shattered his G.D.S,so he immediately uncloaked.
Fantastic. Mistro thought to himself trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder.
He sat up a bit so he was laying on his side and drew his two pistols,and tried to set them to freeze.
The pistols made a low humming sound and died out,they wouldn't switch modes.
He didn't like it,but his only option was using his trusty blade to take down the behemoth.
Sword time it is then,time to slice up a bull.
This big stupid bull was really starting to annoy Mistro,fierceness in his eyes,he dashed forwards at blur speed,and went to stab the brute in the leg.
He was more afraid then he would like to admit,this beast of a man could probably break Mistro in half with two fingers,but he didn’t want to think about now,all he could focus on was taking this person down and helping with the effort to save Gothic from the chaos.

@mastermouse: @_nobody_: @pyrogram: @darkknightdetective:

Arrogantly humoring the Emerald Knight's threateningly voiced proclamation of undeterred self-righteousness, the inherently barbarous Brahma Bull mocked, "Ha! Then God will reincarnate me as revolution", sarcastically scoffing at his diminutive opposition's valorous claim, vocal derision contemptuously disdaining the malachite archer's lexically professed resolve. Lacking Pyrogram's dexterous acrobatic pedigree, the Guerrilla Goliath found himself under the abrupt antagonization of his unfailingly dauntless opponent's inordinately tapered knives. Acuminate blades graphically driven into his gargantuan shoulders, his preternaturally accumulative muscular tissue experiencing protective augmentation via the combinational addition of the Brahma Bull's elephantine hide.

Sustaining largely superficial damage, the inconsequential streaming of darkened vermillion blood from tolerated wounds offering a modicum of physical impairment. Incapable of anticipating the forthcoming, transitory stage of the Verdant Vigilante's assault, a violently compiling quantity of torturous thermal energy vehemently coursed through the entirety of his being as the resultant pyrotechnic eruption frenetically replicated the effects of an incendiary grenade as the Emerald Knight had successfully re-positioned himself at a circumstantially obligatory distance from the succinctly impaired Brahma Bull. Dropped to a solitary knee, palms pressed against the structurally disheveled concrete road as reactionary pants temperately escaped his gargantuan physical frame, the Militant Mammoth's veiled irascibility had been incited, luminously pulsating, sanguine eyes boiling with harbored indignation.

Rising to both feet in a pictorial showcase of deceptive rapidity for one of his hulking frame, a frantic forward step spurred his resultant charge as he rushes towards the standing cerebral archer, true to his name, mirroring the blistering charge of an unrelenting bull. Bringing his body parallel to the ground, the Brahma Bull seeks to savagely batter his shoulder into Pyrogram's midsection, both arms shooting outwards to wrap themselves around his opponent's unprotected legs, pulling both legs upwards, bringing them to his waist while subsequently intent on forcibly ramming his opponent, back-first, into the approximated building with the immediate objective of violently driving Pyrogram into the architectural infrastructure, and forcing his way through the forsaken structure, exiting from the opposing side.

Following the potential success or failure of his assault, the Guerrilla Goliath subtly pauses, wincing pain from sustained burn wounds momentarily inflicting concise physical impairment on his person. Audibly alerted towards the apprehensive emergence of Dark Vengeance, the Brahma Bull's oculus studiously analyze his brooding opponent's present rush. Studious observation implied sub-par martial competence on the bat-themed vigilante's part. His incipient from considerable distance accompanied by exploitable telegraphing, his intent clear, to strike with an opponent boasting a grandiose reach advantage, a novice error. Opportunistically seizing the circumstance, the Brahma Bull violently thrusts an oblique kick towards the exposed knee of Dark Vengeance's lead foot, it's primary purpose, halting the vigilante's rush while dramatically disrupting the necessary body-weight transfer for the intended power-strike.

Upon plausible success of stifling the cynical detective's telegraphed rush and potentially preventing him from entering striking range, the Brahma Bull would proceed with the cerebral exploitation of his overwhelming reach advantage by athletically chambering his leg across his body, linearly extending it towards Dark Vengeance while simultaneously flexing his abdominal muscles for maximum effect, the heel of his foot targeting his opponent's ribs while pulling back his toes, his herculean strength seeking to spit on the structural integrity of Dark Vengeance's ribs. Following his body kick, confident in having forced Dark Vengeance to protect his ribs with an intuitive block, the Titanic Terrorist follows with a lacerating sideways elbow strike boasting monstrous power, targeting the vigilante's head. An unforeseen occurrence however, diverted his attention. An agonizing, stinging sensation on his left thigh. A sharpened blade had been expertly driven into it by, unexpectedly, a mouse? Wincing in a moment of wounded affliction, the Brahma Bull sought to violently swat the overgrown mouse aside with the freakish strength of his left arm, the sustained wound on his left leg graphically gushing visually cringing spurts of blood.

"So. A tiny little leprechaun, a flying rodent-themed vigilante, a nobody.. and a rat? Heh, I like my chances", he lingually mocked prior to bringing his communicative device to his masked facial attributes, his Bois cronies obediently scattered across the perimeter. "Agora". His verbal command inciting the abrupt, audible delivery of the colorless cyanogen chloride toxic blood agent to the area. Intent on exploiting the immediacy of the blood agent's symptoms to induce convulsions, rhinorrhea, edema, and vomiting among other symptoms. Despite the gas mask properties of his facial adornment, the Brahma Bull was under no false pretense of security, cyanogen chloride's capacity of penetrating gas masks spurring his attempted escape from the vicinity, additionally intent on luring the heroes elsewhere to a Bois ambush should they follow, unaware of the blood agent's impending penetration of his own gas mask.

Pre-..what? The clock isn't working?

Sitting on a beach, having a drinking contest with Abraham Lincoln, Elvis Presely, Jesus Christ, and Muhammad Ali, was a dashing Irish-American with a cigar in his mouth and two beautiful ladies to his lefts and to his rights. The sun was setting and the party was about to start. Oh, this is heave- "HOLY F####CK MY HEAD HURTS AH GAWD!"

@614azrael:

In the real world, Post-Attack. What used to be "Bill's Bar".

Fire, rubble, molten slag and ashed riddled the area where the blood-haired vixen had been. There was a light shake from one of the piles, and then it erupted. Crawling out was a shrapnel ridden, burned up, and most of all, angry, Irish-American, gripping his head. "What the F#CK just happened?!" The redneck yelled while trying to fight the mix of a hangover and a concussion to remember what he had been doing.

He was on a vacation, to some city with a rough reputation. He can't remember the name, Gothville or something... After beating up some thugs the night before, and getting laid with some woman he saved; some dumb blonde; he had showed up at Bob's bar- no, Bill's bar, and had a drinking contest with everyone there. Drunk them all under the table. Then he fell asleep in a booth. They had probably tried to drag him out to the curb, but he was pretty heavy, so they must of left him there.

Then-Then BOOM! Weird psycho-ass explosion, or implosion, or something nasty happened that woke him up. Now, his wounds were healing. Burned skin fell off and was replaced with a fresh layer, shrapnel popped out of him and onto the ground, and his face reconstructed with a look of being pissed, but focused. He looked around, saw chaos left and right, but his eyes fell upon the as- err, back of a vixen walking away as calm as can be. Considering everyone else was running and sh#tting themselves, this told him she had something to do with this. "HEY! Redhead! Stop walking and tell me what the hell is going on here." He said as he run out of the rubble.

@brahma_bull@pyrogram@mastermouse@_nobody_@darkknightdetective:

Peter grew tired of waiting around to see who was good and who was bad and left the women and the rock demon to fight each and went in search of more people to save, he ran down the streets of Gothic city looking to see if there was anyone else he could save. Now he was annoyed, so far he'd only saved some civilians and let some clown get away from him, promising himself that he wouldn't let the next one run away like last time he continued his search of the area and eventually found a very odd scene. It appeared that a largish mouse, a green arrow lookalike, some weird insect man hybrid and the same bat themed hero he had seen at the hospital were all ganging up on a menacing, muscular brute of a man who was trying to leave the area which was starting to fill with some kind of militia that had used a dangerous chemical to try and kill all the attackers leaving the gas-masked man fairly safer from its effect. Peter was completely oblivious to the gas and didn't really need to worry, being a skeleton meant that the gas had no effect on him and he could safely move through the area without any trouble. However, the same could not be said about taking out the retreating Goliath who seemed to be extremely strong and relentless. "STOP RIGHT THERE!" commanded Peter as he sprinted without stopping, each foot step left small cracks in the ground and he began to close the distance rapidly trying to get a close as he could for his opening strike. His eye sockets lit up from the fire that burned inside them and Peter began to feel the righteous fury and power course its way through him and ebb throughout his bones.

His plan of action was to try and stop the man in his tracks, so he drew his massive sword that from the sheathe on his back took a couple of seconds to aim and threw it like a boomerang towards the muscle bound man's legs hoping to disable him long enough to get up close. If it didn't work the first time he would simply keep doing it again and again by pulling his sword back via his bone-kinesis and throwing it until he finally caught the man. If the man simply turned around to fight him then Peter would brace himself before charging him whilst trying to plunge right into his chest with the oversized sword. If the man was knocked over by throwing the sword Peter would reach him with his sword back in hand and cleave and slash as the opponent lay on the floor being able to stay a good distance away thanks to the combined length of his arms reach and his own blade, the aim was to cause so much damage that the massive man would no longer be able to properly fight making him easier to detain. But if push came to shove then Peter would have very little problems with just outright ending the man right there and then if need be. He didn't really think it was a good plan and knew as ran closer that it was very possible that on the belt of his target was probably some kind of grenade which he would use against Peter, but he wasn't too worried about the explosion as he knew that could just reconstruct himself back together and repair his bones. He knew deep down that this man had something to do with all of this, the way he behaved told it all and Peter wasn't going to let the deaths of the innocent go unavenged.

@brahma_bull:

Quickly tilting his head upwards, anticipatingly looking towards the Mutant Militant his emerald eyes caught sight of the favorable consequences of his thermally charged blades. Briefly smiling, knowing once again even an opponent of his seemingly unstoppable mannerisms could be injured by a 5'7 Archer.

All of a sudden Kurt collapsed onto the ground, both armored knuckles pressing onto the dirty floor his thigh injury starting cause agonizing pain. Momentarily crying out with an angered gnarl instead of a cry, his pain was turned into vexation simply wanting to demolish the Bull, however, as his head tilted upwards once more readying himself for battle his small body was unceremoniously driven through a desolate building with unrelenting physical intent to injure the Paragon. Kurt felt his body being forcefully ejected out of the other side of the building with no way to counter such brutal treatment until the ordeal was over.

During the transit through the building his newly acquired Arcani Armor had once again been his saving grace. Sustaining virtually no life altering injuries (unlike the last confrontation) instead the titanium shock absorbing units strategically located within the suit had taken the brunt of the damage. Kurt however was still noticeably injured, his face visibly bruised and bleeding, multiple ribs broken. Bruised and battered, yet thankfully alive.

Lying face down in the desolate ruins of the building, performing somewhat of a press-up motion, crimson blood once more dripping from his nose and mouth, Kurt stood upright once more. Looking down towards his destroyed armor prior to angrily wrenching it off revealing a heavily battle scared chest while letting out an infuriated cry unlike his normally calm mannerisms. Followed up by a removal of his dark forearm gauntlet, and finally his darkened gloves which were nonchalantly discarded onto the ruined ground.

Stepping over his abandoned armor Kurt manifested himself a single serrated blade holding it the same way as before, intently fixating his agenda on murderously ending the Barbaric Bull. Stubbornly ignoring the pain of his thigh injury, yet limping all the same while his breathing wavered and pained pants were easily heard through thick, slow footsteps due to his damaged ribs. His face covered in newly painted blood due to his broken nose and broken lips. His broken eye socket making him looking like an injured animal. Kurt slowly made his way outside of the smashed building, his eyes catching sight of the Bull's seemingly cowardly escape as Kurt broke off into a feeble run attempting to chase the man down, himself unaware of the chemically induced warfare which he was now unconsciously inhaling.

While chasing down the Bull the symptoms of his deviously employed tactics started to ravage at the Paragons weakened state, buckling over into uncontrollable pain holding his stomach his eyes gushing due to the rhinorrhea and edema now within his system shortly followed by a fit of uncontrolled vomiting mid battle. Kurt's internal homeostasis abilities kicked in without his cognitive thought, instantly engaging countermeasures to this chemically induced assault. Stumbling around holding onto parked cars trying to find the Bull, his eyesight heavily impaired, his movement even more impaired, Kurt feebly stumbled around his bare chest offering no protection if gunfire or other attacks were bestowed upon his person as he entered the possible Bois ambush point.

Clutching his knife as he entered, Kurt would if given the chance, try his earnest to pursue the Bull until another inevitably damaging face off. Upon facing the Bull he would simply attempt to throw another thermally charged blade towards the Goliath with intent to dig into his solar plexus, and angrily explode.....If Kurt was confronted by Bios' men directly, he would manifest his bow and arrow and try to counter-fire with a continuous stream of arrows towards any possible attacking forces.

@mr_smiles:

Beneath the black vibranuim facial mask, the Noir Rose dismissively grinned as captain obvious recited a rudimentary list of visually apparent clues. Before predictably being drawn towards the battle ensnared combat colossus, Brahma Bull. Further depleting the Knightfall's faith in the World's modern heroes. Gothic was in tatters, its population engulfed in a murderous rampage of uncontrollable measure. And while the Guerrilla Goliath may have initially elicited the chaotic escalation of unmitigated violence, the simply fact was, he had already won. Gothic's fate had been sealed and his solitary defeat now, would do nothing more then massage the fabricated ego's of the so-called heroes obsessed with fortifying their own legends.

Shaking his head, Quintus called in the robotic suits desperately trying to salvage some semblance of safety. Their primary objectives vocally re-calibrated as they landed. "There may still be some survivors in there." directing his finger towards the collapsed hospital. "Get them out and get them to the nearest functioning medical facility. Then get back out there and help whoever you can."Turning away with perfect timing right into the path of the obnoxiously loud Knightfall Bogati, vaulting into the open canopy with stylish flamboyance.

Within moments he had tracked down the Clown King of Crime, monitoring him carefully from the rafters of one of Gothic's premier theaters. With a flick of his wrist the Dark Arashikage fabricated a single silver shuriken. Firing it through the air, he had targeted the madman's deadly knife.

Quickly anticipating three possible outcomes of the launched projectile, Quintus resigned the poor girl's fate to already having been lost, even though the terrified girl still drew breath. But as he swooped down, simultaneously unveiling a fundamentally sound thrust kick aimed for the villainous clown's temple, he would make sure her life would be the last one the clown prince ever extinguished.

@brahma_bull@pyrogram@lastpyre@darkknightdetective

Mistro was a little too pleased when his blade sunk into the leg of the massive brute and blood started squirted out,very quickly Brahama’s massive arm slammed into Mistro with surprising speed,it sent him flying across a building over,and then tumbling into the alleyway below.
Luckily,he landed in a garbage can,he barely pulled himself up and out of the garbage bin,he then slid onto the cold concrete ground and coughed up blood and rolled over onto his side.
That thing is strong. he thought as he held his stomach,his ribs were not broken,because mouse bones can actually bend,so they very rarely break.He was probably bleeding internally and one his lungs was punctured.
A sharp cold pain shot through him every time he even tried to take a breath,he could feel the healing factor working,but it wasn’t even close to fast enough.
He pulled himself up into a sitting position up against the garbage bin and tried to focus on healing,he could breathe again without terrible pain,but he was still in bad shape.
He pulled himself up and stumbled out of the alleyway and then the scent of some sort of weaponized chemical agent assaulted Mistro sense of smell.
Mistro had a very sensitive nose and he recognized some of the chemicals in the smell immediately,he knew immediately this was bad news.He dashed down the street to try to get away only to stumble and fall onto the pavement.
“Dammit.” he growled angrily to himself.Then the effects of the chemical agent kicked in.First,his nose began to fill with mucus,it was absolutely disgusting,then he vomited on the concrete and fell to his knees.
“I will kill that stupid bull if its the last thing I do” he swore to himself in anger between his fits of vomiting.
He could see the bull trying to escape not far and the emerald archer who had most definitely proven his skill, and worthiness in this battle.He earned Mistro's respect most definitely.He thought he may be hallucinating as a result of the chemical agent,but he thought he could see his old student Peter in his new skeleton form attacking the bull, and was that…a batman?
Mistro stood to his feet once more and checked his equipment.
A broken G.D.S,two malfunctioning blast pistols,two smokebombs and a tattered damage resistant cloak.
He was starting to feel slightly better,he could breathe easier now and could stand without terrible pain.
Mistro knew he couldn’t take the bull in his current state,the archer was brave,Peter had just come to the battle and the batman was there,hopefully they could keep Brahma under control.
Mistro took a deep breath and drew his sword,he hoped the chemical agent couldnt enter him through his pores.
He dashed at full speed around the building where the battle had commenced and could see the soliders that had spread the chemical agent.
This is going to be too easy Mistro thought,in a blur of white fur most of the soldiers dropped to the ground in a bloody mess. A gun fired but Mistro was too fast,he easily blocked the incoming bullet with his blade,dashed forward and plunged his blade into the attacker.
It seems they’re all dead he thought, almost tired,fighting with injury was a severe drain on him.
He felt even better than he did before,it didn’t hurt to breathe and he could stand and run without horrible pain but he was still too injured to confront the bull,at least for now.

@the_noir_rose:

Smiles cranked his head a bit with laughter as he started to slowly dig the knife into her flesh, making her scream. But with only the tip buried in her skin, a shining shuriken came and swatted the knife out of his hand, stylishly sending it into one of the backdrop pieces. His green pupils shrunk tightly, his smile now a grin. There was that feeling again, this ecstasy he felt whenever he was around. The shadow that was soaring towards him like a child's worst nightmare was one of the only things that made Mr.Smiles happy. Like the persona, not even the man, but that symbol he BECAME when the mask was on was the only thing that could ever complete him.

Against most predictable odds, he merely stood up and raised his arms just in time for the sturdy boot to collide with his chalk white temple. The clown's neck bent sideways only for a moment before the rest of his body followed, the cape showed just how strong he was by sending Smiles sliding four feet away. The girl quickly leaped off the stage and landed on the first few seats, holding her cut cheek while breaking into a sobbing fit.

"Heh..Heh! HEHEH..HAHAHAHAAAA! Oh I can't tell you how happy I am you arrived..I missed you!" Smiles grinned towards the looming shadow of a man while clutching his slightly bleeding head, shakily wobbling to get up on his feet.

“You used your money to acquire a company; but you have no idea what it is?” the man asked, staring at the small framed woman with uncertainty. “Uh….Ma’am…this is a meat packaging company” Ziccarra stood in a vibrant red Jovani formal dress, her attire was one of the reasons undoubtedly, stood out; the other being she was clearly, not a slave.

“I am aware of what kind of company this is, amigo” She said, visually, showing distain for the copious slabs of gutted swine. “I came here today, to get a gauge on the moral of my employees’, I rather show up and see the real thing; rather than get a fabricated version where everyone is happy.”

She walk past him leaving him to wonder just why she showed up. “Well, that’s uh…new” He said, returning to her side. “What tis?” Z asked, once again; turning her face up at the raw meat. “Most people don’t care about us slaves.”

“I am not most people” Ziccarra responded, sitting her purse on the metal table. “I want to be honest with you, Mr….”

“It’s Charlie…not Mr. just Charlie. He said, pulling out a seat for her to sit on. Smoothing out the back of her dress; she took a seat within close proximity to Charlie. “Well Charlie, I am going to be making some changes around here; changes you may…or may not want to see; but I can assure you, if things work out the way I want them too; I can have you all free within 5 years.” She kept her voice low, in an effort to not incite the masses.

“Wha-?” Charlie gasped, leaning back in his chair, the talks of possible freedom enticed him; however he wasn’t sure what this meant. Z placed her hands gently, in her lap; crossing her legs to make an uncomfortable discussion easy.

“Charlie, did you know that most of the companies on this Island have relatively, cheap shares. I predict that if, this company continues to grow we will be in position to acquire other companies. That is all based on, the charts and logistics my accountant crunched” She could see he had a question; alleviating his hesitation, she tilted her head to the side as if to say speak.

“That all sounds very good, Ma’am, but why are you helping us?” The doubt in his voice, somewhat agitated her; but knowing this man could’ve been a slave his whole life, persuade her to practice patience.

“Listen, I know you do not think you can trust me but, I-“Charlie interjected, pushing away from her, he didn’t want some elitist selling him a dream they couldn’t fulfill.

“Charlie…if you walk away from me, you are walking away from a chance to save lives.” Z called out, he stopped in his tracks. “Right now…in my home, there is a little girl in a coma; her family were gun down on, Liberty bridge, by a man in clown make-up. He is probably far away from here, but that….that was just the precursor. “Triads, TDT, mobsters; all these elements have infiltrated this city…and”

Before she could finish her sentence, Charlie walked back towards her, he seemed to have an ephiany about who she was. “You…you’re the goddess…” He said, removing his trucker hat.

“You’re the one from the bridge” Z nodded reassuringly, It was in that moment that Charlie understood why Ziccarra had come. “I-I-it’s an honor to have you in my presence” Z cracked a posh smile, before alternating her crossed legs.

“I am going to bring change to this city, but I shall never be anything more than a sexy latina in a skimpy outfit” Though she was joking, there was a lot of truth in what she spoke of. “I am a symbol, something that will spark the people to fight for justice.”

He nodded his head in acceptance, the slaves didn’t have any rights; his faith in god waned over the past few months, but that night….that night it returned.

Later

(The Pantheon)

“So how do you plan on explaining, half the companies fund, being diverted to the R&D department? Charlie asked, moving boxes into the mountain base. “THAT…is your job; keep the stockholders off my trail.” Z said, moving boxes telepathically.

“You don’t think the whole “Batcave” thing is a bit cliché?” Charlie asked, setting up the equipment Z would need for her crusade on the city. “If this world has taught me one thing, amigo; it is that nothing is cliché”

“I called in a few favors, no one has ever heard anything on this SMILES character, but there are crimes matching is M.O in Gothic City. I’ve got files on a man calling himself the Motivator; he’s been pushing TDT throughout the Pacific Rim. Lastly, there is a man called The Brahma Bull; we don’t have too much info on him either.”

“Alright, ready my suit, I want you to go through these files, and choose people you think will be good to the cause.”Said, dropping her dress in front of him. He tried his hardest not to ogle the body of the Malagan Mistress, but he felt himself peeking a few times.

“Where are you going?” He asked, finally able to surmount his lust. “I am going to Gothic City” She said, hitching her bullwhip to her waist.

“For what?”

“To make sure they STAY there” she said, walking towards her new jet.

Gothic City

“Madame M”, I’ve uploaded a map of Gothic City to your navigation system, use it wisely. Charlie reported, allowing to set her plane down on the outskirts of the sieged city. Taking her sword in hand, she rushed off into Gothic City, looking to help the besieged town.

@ownagepants: @_celt:

Being a soldier and do to a mild interest in medicine and what her abilities could do had given the red head a good degree of medical understanding. A doctor maybe not but she could usually use her knowledge and her telekinesis to mend her wounds. This would be crucial in the coming moment because naturally somebody had to get in her way. It was always the same, the idiots failed to see the beneficial outcome they saw murder took it as murder and never looked to what it might cause. Everyone saw the butterfly’s wings flap but didn’t consider the butterfly’s effect. Todays intrusion came from a young brat he looked somewhere between thirteen to sixteen and rode upon a rock golem. The monster was mildly imposing a demonic visage present in its features. If not for being in company of many mutants alluring and grotesque with abilities horrid and majestic she might have been disturbed. However having been face to face with many horrors this fiend before her didn’t get a trace of shock value from the VLA Elite. With the boy from behind was a white haired drunk. She recognized him from the bar, he had been knocked on his ass by the hard drink and Bill seemingly let him stay as lifting his heavy ass was more trouble then it was worth. He was also wearing nothing but a few remains of scorched clothes. Wasn’t bared to the world yet, but it wasn’t like there was much left to the imagination. Most clothing still there was singed to the skin barely seperable. Of note there was also a skeletal warrior she could of sworn he was a student at the mutant academy she’d worked for. However the skeleton left, leaving it as a problem not for her at least.

hen the rock demon charged forward its speed rather impressive she had to admit. Her acrobatic teachings led her to leap into a summersault to evade the move her hands touching the melted asphalt as the earthy fist slammed into the ground. The debris had clipped her left arm snapping the bone. Despite it all though the speed of her action and aid of Telekinetic performance allowed her to land on top of a two story mildly unscathed building. Reaching out with her mind she assessed her arm, and with a wince snapped the bones back into place a mental constructed microscopic brace placed on the wound to help keep it intact. The mental repair likely unseen but a testament to the skill not just of her but of the Elites of the Mutant society. Comfortably the crimson anarchist sunk her hands into her pockets. In a world of people charging in, drawing weapons, displaying powers she just relaxed with hands in pockets. In a world of people who talk while armed, it’s the at ease that should be concerned about.

“You healed up rather nicely for being a half nuked drunk. This city is burning, it’s coming down like a house of cards hit by the wind. I am but another aiming to bring such change about.” Scarlet hair and jade eyes then turned to face more the youthful demon summoner then the charred drunk. “So the young knight comes riding in on rock steady steed. But does he have any clue why? Humanity is a pitiful crumbling race it needs revolution. Look at this city it tells the strength and weakness of the mass. Self righteous greedy blind lead the way but are cowards. The poor and semi strong subdue to crime because well they’ve nowhere to go. And the strong are so outnumbered the hope they install is just a pretty lie. I am not saying humanity needs to burn but some people will have to if a future is to be fabricated. To contest me would be to attempt saving unsalvageable drug addicts, self obsessed ass stains of corporations, and that is really all. Lets save a world, lets forge something that isn’t shit. Lets make Gothic City ash and start waking up this sad fragile society.”

“You two get one shot to agree or be caught in the fall out.” Azrayne was not one for long debates and speeches. She considered herself a lady of action. If her proposition was agreed to she would use telekinetic abilities to shield her allies from another miniaturized atomic blast. If they refused then well it was up to themselves to not perish into ash into the winds. Either way Azra intended to blow this building apart as well in a mushroom cloud of symbolic horror. Ground would become glass much in the radius would be reduced to dust or a equivalent comparison of nothingness. Another small black out would trigger around the fallen building. Communications gone and likely strong radiation burns inflicted in the immediate area. And like always the nuclear duchess would stand in the debris unaffected, not so much as some dust or ash on a shoulder. For she was a catalyst of destruction her conditions she felt should never change for it was her job to bring change about.

@ownagepants: @614azrael:

Trevor watched with lightly blurry eyes as what looked like a walking boulder charged at the vixen, and missed due to her jumping around. Then she started talking... and talking... and TALKING... He didn't wait for the redheaded b#tch to finish her fancy little speech before throwing three materialized spears at her in succession. One slightly to her left, one slightly to the right, and one dead center. "Shut the f#ck up! I got blown up and woken into a hangover. I don't need some redhead super-hooker telling me ANYTHING right now."

With those famous last words, he materialized a mace in each of his hands and charged in a traditional barbarian fashion before leaping at the vixen, swinging like a angry gorilla. Which he might as well have been, considering what he was about to unwittingly run into. Seconds before one of his maces could smash the woman's skull in, his whole world goes one fire. His skin is mauled and his hands disintegrate as he is flung away like a ragdoll. He stops seeing, he stops hearing. His resilient body is thrown into a building that falls apart atop of him.

@mr_smiles:

Upon impact, the masked Knightfall gymnastically spring-boarded backwards. Assiduously reversing his forward momentum by using the Clown King's defensively positioned hand as an impromptu launching pad to vault himself into a retreating series of stylishly executed back-flips. "There's a car outside, go." authoritatively commanding the injured woman. "Buuut but...how will I know which one it is...." she tremblingly questioned. "You'll know."Quitnus responded with un-apologitic apathy. Obsessively fixated on the Hyena like hysterics of the murderous madman with his own Eagle Eyed scowl.

Using a side-to-side charge of misdirection, feinting from left to right, the Noir Rose's martial foot-work impressively masked his muscle marinated intentions. Leading with his gauntlet spiked forearm aiming towards the recovering criminal's face, anticipating a defensive reaction that would potentially expose the clown's mid-section and induce yet another reactionary maneuver. Both strikes were premeditated and predicated upon the notion of purposely failing. Their author seeking to open up the availability of his true target, Mr. Smile's chin. The entire exchange unfolded with near instantaneous speed, strike, strike, then leaping up, and towards, Mr. Smiles with a pair of alternating knees of unbelievable force fueling their momentum as they sailed towards the painted cleft.

With any luck the Living Weapon's attack would connect and temporarily turn out the Clown King of Crime's lights.

@brahma_bull: @lastpyre: @pyrogram: @mastermouse:

It looks like I attacked him in anger, that I wasn't in control of my actions but in fact I was. I'm always in control of what I do, I took the kick to stop me in order to give me an opening move. He thinks that he has the advantage, that I will have to block the kick giving me no way to dodge his next attack but he is wrong. I can flip over him instead of blocking the kick and attempt to place two concussion mines over his head, whether the attack works or not I will land perfectly and crouch to kick him with my left foot in the back kick with strength that could break right through a stone wall and the speed of a car leaving him open to my temporary allies attacks on him

The gas is released as he said "Agora", agora is defined as a place of congregation, usually in the Greek market place. If it wasn't obvious this tells me that he has certain fascination with ancient Greek culture. I would love to discuss ancient Greek culture and mythology with him after I break every bone in his body to pieces. My mask instantly covers my mouth piece with a kind of adamantium wall keeping me completely concealed from the gas, I can hold my breath for an extensive amount of time so I doubt that the air will be an issue. I will analyze the gas to find an antidote and maybe further use.

Typical that the bull is trying to escape, his kind has always been a superstitious cowardly lot but he will never escape me. I run after him only to walk into an ambush by his henchmen, predictable. To dodge the bullets I quickly take my grapple gun out of my belt and fire it towards him aiming towards the left infraspinatus fascia, this wouldn't bring him towards me but me towards him if it connected to which I will let the force of the grapple launch me towards him and attempt to kick him in the head.

@the_noir_rose:

"ALWAYS with the fighting eh!?" Smiles put up his fists like it was an old fashioned brawl, of course doing nothing to prevent what was coming. The clown jerked his face upward to avoid the spiked side of the Knight's arm, leaving the tiniest cut on his white neck. "HOOF! HAHA!" Even with his massive fist pressed hard against Smiles's stomach, laughs leaked out along with some blood from his mouth, his eyes looking up towards the empty whites that belonged to his other half.

Finally though, the laughing stopped. His jaw clacked shut violently as the fist sent his chin home, it was even strong enough to lift his entire body off the ground for a moment and send him onto the floor. Whether it was adrenaline, or madness, Smiles was still awake, and giggling as if in a fit. He took a moment to wipe some of the blood from his chin, also showing the Rose that the white on his face wasn't coming off, that he was bleached.

"You see? Heheh..See how this is who I really am!? This scarred skin of mine is the real me..A long time ago I had my mask burnt away, but you...YOU! Take your real face off, and what? Prance about acting like you're not INSANE!? What makes you NOT be this all the time!? Who you really are!"

Smiles narrative, while all true questions, was simply a cover for him reaching into his coat and pulling out his high-powered magnum. This was it, with the Clown on the ground and the Shadow looming over him, he slowly started to squeeze the trigger while the gun was aimed right at the mask's face..

*POP!* The gun went off, only to eject a small pole, with a red flag that said "BANG!" on it. Smiles simply started laughing, almost to the point where he was just coughing while he dropped the toy gun to his side and started to roll around while still cackling, clearly showing his surrender.

@614azrael: As David watched in horror as Azkabar hit the girl he was surprised to see her simply repair her injured shoulder like it was nothing she was not normal and their was something Azkabar saw about her that made him attack.As he was in though a drunk man joined in their scene although he did not seem to bother Azkabar which means he did not see him as a threat so David would have to worry about this man later for now he would have to focus on the task at hand.

He turned towards Azkabar"do what you have to do if your attacking her it means shes a threat to not only me but many other people which means it better if we stop her now "Azkabar nodded in agreement with Davids words although before he would have had time to provide a verbal response even if he was going to in the first place a stone hand appeared in the ground behind David gabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him off of Azkabar's shoulder and out of danger .

Just before a giants blast of debris came crashing down at Azkabar two giant stone hands quickly rose out in front of him blocking the explosion for the most part as some of Azkabars shoulder was destroyed but quickly regenerated .Azkabar then went on the attack summoning a dozen smaller stone hands to sprout up around the girl then close in on her although they were smaller they were faster if they all managed to hit her then she would surely die from the impact.

@_celt: @ownagepants:

She hated people, here they were saying “tell us your plan” then they went and called her a hooker and lashed out. How damn frustrating people would ASK for an explanation and respond in such a moronic and frustrating way. “You asked me to tell you ass hole” she muttered before the response came. Meanwhile the kid came in letting the rock fiend be the deciding factor in the matter. All the courage to fight none of the intelligence to listen. Was it really so damn hard to have a conversation? With that being said though it was time to just handle the situation as her opponents came her way. Reaction was conflict and as such she turned to straight up violence, the drunken assailant leaped her way weapons ready. Then a breath before his dual maces were ready to collide with her the building erupted into flame. A nuclear blast that left the expected cloud of dismay ruin and glassed pavement. The explosion ravaged the foul mouth drunk and tossed him into a building near by. Structure proceeded to collapse on the man as he was thrown aside. It was hard to say wether or not the man was combat able, for the time being at least however he wasn’t a threat to deal with. This left the teenager as the opposition to take care of, child's play she figured. Her opponent survived the nuclear blast, the rock golem saving the teen from destruction. However that wasn’t to say he was safe. Wouldn’t be wise to stand in the middle of the aftermath of nuclear fallout, period.

The destruction only wounded the golems shoulder and the damage was repaired not long after. And the teen unscathed, this promoted a strategy in the mind of the Elite. This hero summoned a demon, presumably the demon recovered in part do to the teens existence. If he died then the demon would likely be sent back as well. First however she would need to not die from the expected back lash. First thought telekinesis, a natural defensive for those who have it. A dozen fists of earth and granite surrounded her and were going to smash down into a singular point hopefully eradicating the redhead. The speed of these rocks were remarkably fast and she had to admit she probably would not be able to dodge them fortunately she didn’t have to. A simple barrier constructed by the mind guarded her body sparring her from the devious collision. As the rocks hurtled her way they were met by a solid barrier of mental amplitude. Shattering into a visual shower of shards the nuclear duchess showed almost no sign of harm aside from a few bruises. It was now her turn to make a move, getting up close was a stupid call obviously the giant had greater strength and better speed. Range was the ideal course of action.

Azrayne proceeded firstly with reaching out with her mind attempting to meld hers with the teenagers. The goal of this was to upon connection shut down all brain waves. Essentially forcing the heroic demon summoner into being brain dead, if not just dead. This was a attempt to enter the mind and gun it down, in perhaps one of the most deadly moves in total. Of course she was not an idiot there was no guarantee that this attack would work. So she followed it with a secondary attack, a secondary mental attack where she attempted to place a barrier around the giant and teen. Then she crushed that barrier which by all means she figured would entomb her foes. This crushing method was designed to ruin both enemies into little more then dust and a puddle of blood. It wasn’t the most elaborate kill but it was effective. Place opponents into a sphere they probably can’t see and then crush it. That’s effective and that was the point accurate ultra visceral methodology in ending life.

@brahma_bull:

As the projectiles were fired towards Luke, he fluctuated between webbing them and, probably, save his allies or simply avoid being hit. He opted for the less trickier, simply escaping. Bending his knees, Craig propelled upwards, utilizing his freshly acquired abilities to achieve the outstanding distance of 600 feet, never reached by any normal human. His arms and legs trembled as his jump was miscalculated, few by few, Nobody got more distant of the battlefield, yet, that was not his only problem. The landing would be terrific. If he hadn't shot web, addressing the road and building somewhat near, he would become nothing but a blood stain on the cold and stiff pavement.

Landing on a stance similar to a spider, the young vigilante slowly slided of the proteinaceous spider silk, both hands supporting his puzzled head, in order to recover and head back to the brawl. "Argh, I still have to get used to this new powers. Dammit, that was a horrible jump, I could have died here." Twisting his head harshly, the Ultimate Insect promtply stood upright once again, readying for the clash. Rushing towards his posterior position, Luke could barely believe he had made it alive. Even though he had just proved once again to himself he was capable of defeating Brahma, Craig opted by a more silent approach. Using the equipment attached to his back, Nobody clambered at the closest facilities, crawling sidewards so he didn't make noise and passed unnoticed.

Bull was intelligent, perhaps even more than Luke thought. He was releasing some sort of gas, the effects could be seen on closer inhabitants, which hid in fear. The situation was chaotic and extremely perilous, but now it had attained a whole new level. Many lifes were endangered, not only civilians. Luke held his breath, hopefully, his genetic modifications could allow him to hold it further than an average human or even a peak human. "Now we search for George Foreman on steroids." He whispered, while attempting to perceive his correct location. "There you are, Mr. No Pain No Gain. Now lemme just..." Before completing the sentence, Nobody shot a small thread of web, aiming for the Militant Goliath's mask.

Craving Brahma's distraction and his peak human strenght could actually manage to release the mask, aided by the four metalic Spider 'Arms', which readily dug into the cement, providing a greater support, Luke, if succesful, would leap towards the man and jab him straight on the chin, continuing the sequence with a rapid strike of one of the metalic 'arms', which would, hopefully, pierce through' Brhama's left shoulder.

"Do you remember when I compromised your left shoulder, 'puto', now here's what really should have been done."

Acknowledging that, in a close combat battle, he would clearly lose, the Anonymous Vigilante stepped backwards, hoping to take distance for a future assault.

@614azrael: Azkabar was caught a bit off guard by the telepathy sent at David but he did not have time to be shocked if the attack worked the fight would surely be over he would have to block it and just like that three hands rose out of the ground and palmed. David's head brown runes appeared on the hands which blocked the telepathic attack but this girl was not yet done with her attacks she clearly was not taking them lightly.

A giant barrier appeared around them and started to push in with the intent to crush Azkabar and David Azkabar caused earth to completely cover every inch of Davids body almost as a barrier then he used this to move David under ground and out of the barrier releasing the earth around David. Once he reached the other side so he would not run out of oxygen Azkabar followed suit and went underground resurfacing behind the barrier.

Now it was once again Azkabar's turn to go on the offensive he caused six giant hands to rise around the girl they looked almost like pillars and their was no room in between them for her to simply run through them the only way out would be up so .Azkabar made smaller stone hands appear out of the top of the giant stone hands that way if she attempted to jump out they would smash her and just like that he caused all the giant pillars to move together at fast speeds so they would crush her Azkabar was sure this would end the fight but he did not hold his breath.

"A lie that is half-truth is the darkest of all lies"- Alfred Tennyson

Six Months Ago. Gothic City.

Underground Compound

Two shadowy figures loomed over a rather aged large circular table, the artificial illumination cast only a dim ghostly yellow light upon the begrimed concrete walls. The duo muttered to one another in obvious disagreement, a sense of cold distrust filled the room along with the heavy weight of hostility. One was a hulking mass of muscle who made his companion,an otherwise a large man himself, seem substantially smaller by comparison. The gargantuan slams his fist upon the table without warning, shattering a portion of the table into splinters with ease. His index finger points to a map layered upon many others, directing the other man's eye to a overview of Gothic City. "It. Burns." His powerful voice projected throughout the confines. An ominous silence endured. The behemoth continued after some time "That is the plan. Entendido?" The Brazi Bull stood firm while he crossed his arms, showcasing his massive frame threateningly. Twin scarlet gems peered at his guest inquisitively and expected no objection. The other stepped forward, into the low light, his face concealed behind a skull like helmet. His eye also a brilliant crimson color, glowing slightly. His mouth shown between the mandible and cranium like concealments, a vague smile appeared out of irritation. He dressed in a neo-victorian fashion, a lightly tattered jabot fluttered against his black jacket as he moved towards the table. Gloved hands shuffled the maps around on the table and pulled on the bottom most layout. The faustian phantom laid the map across the others, displaying the city's sewer system. His voice was like the bellow of distant thunder as he calmly spoke. "It burns. Yes. From both above and below." Brahma Bull lowered his arms and glared at the morbid figure curiously. "Below..." As if in a state of realization he placed his right hand firmly on Orcus' shoulder and leaned into the light, only to block its gleam "...How long?" Orcus nodded his head in confirmation, as the two had been at odds for sometime. "In total? Several months. I have the weapon partially built overseas. The most difficult objective is the distraction, keeping our enemies preoccupied while the weapon begins the displacement of oxygen molecules, around eight hours due to the size of Gothic." The byronic butcher left the table and poured into a goblet aged pinot noir from a decanter on the serving table. He swirled the glass but did not sip. "I believe comrade, that our partnership could be a prosperous one." Moving like a specter towards the table for the final time, a sinister aura seemed to befall Orcus. "All we need is synergy to fulfill our cause and more importantly...." Pausing momentarily as he raised the goblet, staring at the map of Gothic City with great displeasure. "...Bloodshed." He then splashed the wine slowly onto the print itself. Filling the streets with crimson liquid.

Present: Pre- Attack

Gothic City Wastewater Treatment

"Brahma Bull has just announced the fall of Gothic, Lord Orcus." A man in urban camouflage announced. His face was painted to mimic an bone white skull, a AK-47 slung around his shoulders along with a side arm attached to his hip. He gave a quick bow and continued. "All primers are in place and have been tested. Apollyon is awaiting your activation." Orcus had been sitting on a tufted leather executive chair, his fingers steepled and raised upwards at a slight angle. He did not wear his helmet however, his ebony locks flowed freely downward upon his jacket. His face was gaunt and embedded with madness but a allure of his exotic features clashed with his overall dismal motif. Upon hearing the update he rose to his feet and dismissed the messenger with the wave of his hand. He made his way from the central security room, several bullet ridden bodies in uniform leaned against the wall, their heads severed and taken by the trigger-men. As was the Cult's custom to do so. The white halls were carved with cryptic symbols and skulls, hundreds of them. More headless workers appeared in every direction, some mutilated in such a way, it was difficult to determine it was human in origin. He was approached by an armored ally in one of the intersecting hallways, his helmet marked with a large white skull "The legion is assembled and are awaiting your speech in the main chamber Lord Orcus." The silent slayer gave no word and opened a door a few meters down. His carmine eyes glanced with satisfaction as he gazed on a device tapped into a enormous electrical panel. His black gloves grasped a single lever firmly, a dark grin exposed pearl like teeth. "It. Burns." He spoke just before engaging the device's lever upward. Simultaneously, all the lights in the building died casting darkness throughout the facility.

Somewhere deep within the sewers a truck sized machine, shaped much like a coffin, was submerged in the murky water. Electricity was rerouted from several industrial plants just to power the enigmatic weapon. The water above the Apollyon churned as hydrogen gas began to slowly rise in the sewer tunnel above it. Eight hours until the entire system became pressurized.

Present: Post- Attack

Gothic City Wastewater Treatment

Standing on a stairway suspended by a series of steel cables, tethered to the roof of the plant, Orcus adorned his skull helmet and lifted his arms up and outward as if embracing something massive. He peered into the distance, several drums bellowed with fire produced lurid light sources. Hundreds of shadows seemed to intermingle below, like the waves of a blackened ocean. Which swayed to and fro as the fires danced. The heads of the plant employees hung like ornaments from the railing, blood spattered in a twisted colleague below. A network of repurposed loudspeakers crackled while the onlookers paying close attention as the skull faced man began to speak. "Tonight, those explosions did not announce desolation. They did not announce panic or sorrow. Nor failure or success. They announced a new era. With every detonation, it silenced the heartbeat of decadence. It amputated the hand of decay that tightly squeezed Gothic City. That hand was law! That hand was obedience!" His voice became louder, his fingers tightened into a death grip as he shouted. "We are not dogs! We do not heel! We do not obey! The fences of the sheep have been torn down comrades! Tonight, the wolves will feast!" His fists slammed onto the railing, causing the iron bars to bow under his strength. He struck them further in accordance to each word until the railing was torn asunder "The dark will never die!" With perfect timing, several blood red banners fell from the rafters, displaying the sigil of Cult of the Undying Dark. An uproar poured out from the sea of blackness, repeating over and over those last five words.

Orcus departed from the stairway and was met by another armored soldier apparently of high rank "We are sending multiple convoys to sites being contaminated by heroic filth. Most importantly, where Brahma Bull is being met with adversity." Orcus gave a demonic smirk. "I will lead an assault on those who attempt to destroy our brother in the cause. Assemble two platoons. No, three." The soldier slammed his fist on his chest in acknowledgement. Orcus had his weapons waiting in the hands of his fellow cultists nearby. As be began arming himself, the thrill of battle filled him yet he attempted to suppress it. The smell of blood filled his nostrils purely out of memory, the pits where calling him again. His head shook violently as the voices grew louder. I am in control, he repeated in his head. Uncontrollably muscle twitches in his face ensued, he places his hand over the opening in his helmet as if not to alert the surrounding soldiers of his disorder. He started to whisper old nursery rhymes in Japanese before he rushed into the hallway to attempt to gain composure. There were several men in his head fighting over the same body. They all will find out, everyone, your nothing but mute in a cage. Orcus whips his head left and right but no one was in the hall. In a violent rage he kicks open the door he just exited and points his sawed off shotgun at the head of the nearest man and fired. Gore sprayed across the wall, along with pellets lodging into the concrete. "You heard him say that correct?" His lips curled and eyes flashed with madness, he then points the shotgun at the crowd who witnessed, neck arched in an obscure fashion. The startled men looked at one another and nodded in unison.

Sometime Later.

Suddenly, the eight wheels of multiple IAV Stryker vehicles came to a halt shortly after Brahma's tactical retreat. The rear compartment doors fell hard upon the pavement, tens of armored soldiers poured out from the transports. They wore helmets painted with skulls and the sigil of the Cult of the Undying Dark upon their left shoulder. Orcus stepped out last. His black tailcoat danced lightly in the scorched wind of Gothic City. Brahma was inside, he could hear the scuffling of pairs of feet, he was not alone. With the simple gesture of raising his hand his militia poured into the entryway; Steyr AUG light machine guns were the brought up to firing position. Some of the soldiers wielded RPG-7s and a lesser number planted tripods onto the ground and placed XM214 microguns atop them. Orcus himself carried his standard arsenal, which was all he saw fit to carry on his personal mission. Without warning, the soldiers began to open fire upon the enemies of the cause while the Skull Faced Assassin waited for his foes to strike in retaliation.

@mr_smiles:

There are moments, glimpses really, when life opens itself up and reveals a road not taken. It could be something as unnoticeable as turning right, when you could have gone left. Keeping silent when you could have roared. Or sparing a life, when you could have ended it.

Standing over the mercurial madman, his insufferable insanity hemorrhaging with laughter, Quintus apathetically removed a single shuriken from the shadows of his attire. Its diamond cut sharpness reflectively glistening in the ambiance of the overhead stage lights. As it was stylishly danced down along each finger of the gloved Knightfall's hand, and then brought back up again. "All the lives, the unexplained horrors"straddling the surrendering clown and then kneeling, "The unimaginable suffering....."his hand beginning to shake as he brought the deadly projectile along the King of Crime's neck. Using his free hand to guide a solitary finger up along his partial face mask in order to slide it down.

Revealing his identity, the Modern-day-Knightfall grimaced, curling his lips inward and biting in an effort to restrain himself. Without warning or hesitation, he acted. Firing the projectile, backwards, forcefully imbedding it into a wooden beam. Aggressively flipping Mr. Smiles over while heckling taunts of castigated cowardice were leveled against him. Slapping a modified zip tie on the criminals wrist and hoisting him up.

Outside, several offices awaited the emergence of the theaters occupants. Weapons drawn and shielded by their vehicles. In one of the patrolman's cars the traumatized woman sat in the warm embrace of a blanket, as she too awaited to see how it had all played out. And then, suddenly, it happened. The double doors burst open dispensing the restrained villain who, face first, slid along the concrete pavement coming to rest at an astonished officer's feet.

Roaring to life, the black Bogati unexpectedly began burning its tires in place, subtly fishtailing its ass end before finally pealing. "LOOK!" shouted one of the patrolmen, pointing up towards an adjacent roof and the shadow shaded silhouette of the Noir Rose racing across the skyline. Executing several parkour inspired maneuvers before acrobatically flipping down into the open car's cockpit. And speeding off into the unknown.

@brahma_bull @Everyone_Fighting_Him

Hope is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man

~Friedrich Nietzsche

Then

For an age she had slumbered. Time and tide had ebbed and flowed around her. The rock had tore through the void between the suns and the suns had spun around the rock and the void had ignored them. And if you were big enough that was all there was and she knew it was true. There were rocks and fire and nothing and nothing else.

But she had awoken from her dream world. The Bull had awakened her, the Bull had trained her and given her gifts born from the Rock. And now the Bull would kill the Spawn of the Rock for their blasphemy.

nKratesis would join him.

Now

Rubber melted and flew from the souls of her boots as she pounded the rough asphalt. She flew by windows. Leaped over cars. Flipped from wall to wall, tick-tacking up a dozen floors in the span of heartbeats. The Young Queen raced to the edge; a hundred and twenty feet up.

She jumped.

The world stretched out under her like a canvas of concrete and steel. Bitter. Hard. Unfeeling. She heard the sounds; screams and groans, howls and wicked words. Heartbeats.

She could understand the Bull's contempt. She could feel it. It rose in her like an ancient spider rising from a slumber. nKratesis liked spiders: they knew how to hate.

The ground raced under her; heroes hurling themselves at the Bull. Arrows and blades and fists.

She landed beside him. Unarmored; with only a pair of pistols and a few knives; boots with torn soles.

@kratesis:

Myrmidon's relentless searching for The Godslayer has been all but futile. Eons had gone past since their last violent exchange. Myrmidon had gone astray from his perpetual pursuit of slaying the slayer of Gods - instead - Opting to fighting her bodyguard in the almost wistful longing to engage her once more.

During his time away from his perennial goal however, he had never been fully diverted. Always wishing to locate the Messiah of Mutants. Esoteric means were constantly employed to hopefully retrieve her mysterious location.

All major earthly incidents recorded for analysis. Gothic, an obvious Arcani breeding ground was top priority on his list. Fully aware of the ongoing carnage being bestowed upon the city, Myrmidon had fixated his eyes upon the Brahma Bull from the comfort of his own personal sanctuary. Upon the dramatic realization Kratesis had manifested her presence within the battle, an overly frantic Myrmidon had swiftly departed from his namely forsaken palace.

Breaching through Gothic airspace saving no haste to the wind, flying through the air like the majestic eagle abruptly halting slightly further than a normal humans eyesight, intently surveying the iconic image of Kratesis. His palms trembled for the first time in living memory, clenching his fists, his mental solitude returned.

Breaking into an outright sprint blatantly ignoring the Bull's intimidating presence, forgetting his immeasurable strength as each stride cracked the concrete ground, his body but a blur, attempting to simply jump into instant battle, utilizing his impulsive momentum while outstretching an armored pointed palm attempting to impale the Godslayer's neck.

"Time to tip the scales..."

The River Jordan, One Minute Before Detonation

Everything is peaceful, everything is quiet, everything is still, no rage or blood not even the sound of air dripping through his lips and filling his lungs. He lays dormant here, surrounded by dirt and debris turning the blue river a pale yellow, too much exposure to water as polluted as this will kill you, you'll catch a disease or you'll drown but not Angel and not this river. "HELP US!!" "OH MY GOD, HE'S GOT A BOMB!" "Operacao Death March..." He opens his eyes.

*SPLASH!* Onlookers marvelled as the Angel flew out of the holy river creating a glorious spiralling tower out of the still water. Gothic had always had it's heroes but Angel had a gut feeling this time was different and his gut had never steered him wrong before, he felt the screams in his ears and the blood trickle down his face, in his mind's eye he saw him. The mad bull seeing red.

His extended period of deep meditation within the rejuvenating rivers would probably prove detrimental to the dystopian megalopolis and it's unfortunate inhabitants, he could make the journey quick than any express plane but when a cities in the midst of chaos every second counts.

Ten Minutes After Detonation, Gothic City

*THUD!* Angel touches down on the head of Gothic's tallest skyscraper, he lifts his Paragon communicator to his mouth "I think this thing's a little water damaged but I'll give it a shot anyway, this is a direct message to any Paragons @pyrogram@darkknightdetective or any heroes in the area of Gothic city, give me your locations and I guarantee your day is about to get a lot less crappier. If their are any criminals on this line I have a very different message, put down your weapons and leave this place quickly and quietly, I am coming for you ALL and you will NOT stop me."

"Well Gothic you bloated b!tch, let's see what you got..."

@myrmidon_:

Kratesis had ears, and she could hear. She could hear the footfalls of a titan booming down the street. She could hear concrete cracking under his boots. He was moving fast. Too fast.

Her quantum mind exploded with data. Entropy, invisible, universally fatal, bled from her.

Her world stood still. Kratesis's thoughts flew so rapidly the time seemed to have stopped. Her attacker approached from her rear right; out of her line of sight. But she heard him, she heard the sounds of his feet on the pavement, the sounds of his.. robes..? Yes. Robes, whipping through air, snapping and cracking. He was tall. Massive. A singing sound.. fins, projectiles.. no. A blade. A blade connected to his arm.

It clicked. The picture appeared in her mind; a 3D map of Myrmidon created with nothing but the sound of his passage. Echolocative sonar. Myrmidon's body stretched out, lunging, his arm extended, a single blade slicing for Kratesis's neck.

The world snapped back into motion and so did Kratesis. Unlike all other matter in the universe Kratesis did not need to expend units of time to accelerate; she possessed instant acceleration; whatever speed she intended to move, that is the speed she moved, instantly and without delay. She was still bound by all other laws, but combined with her minds violation of the uncertainty principle it made her agility and precision utterly without peer.

Myrmidon's blade drove through a portion of her neck and shoulder, slicing through the mutant flesh like butter. Blood, crimson and thick sprayed from the wound.

Kratesis paid the pain no mind.

Simultaneously she reached her right hand around under her left armpit, intending to snag the hilt of Myrmidon's blade as he passed by her, flickering into motion, intending to draw, spin, and hew through his spine as he passed her by.

@lastpyre: @mastermouse: @darkknightdetective: @_nobody_: @pyrogram: @orcus: @kratesis: @myrmidon_:

Intelligently exploiting the falsely imparted sense of bravado and arrogance self-righteousness so fundamentally ingrained in the hearts of his opposition, the Brahma Bull's present positional transposition perfectly veiled that which he primarily intended, which was not the attempted expunging of sustained symptoms afflicted to his biological system by the deployed, malignant toxic blood agent, the entirety of his retreat was characterized by luring the altruistic collective into a meticulously cultivated ambush for the commencement of their vehement barbarization. Whilst the Bois responsible for inciting the deployment of the toxic blood agent found themselves methodically blitzed by the temperate combat prowess of the peculiarly sized rodent, the Guerrilla Goliath's gargantuan frame was subsequently targeted by his opposition.

Sensuously alerted about an incoming aerial projectile, the distinctly emanated shift in ambient airflow wordlessly identified it as long-ranged antagonism originating from the diminutive Emerald Knight. Exercising perpetually deceptive rapidity and nimble movement, a defensively-minded sidestep narrowly maneuvered the Brahma Bull's hulking frame into an offensively beneficial position, culminating with a swiftly undertaken turn of the heel. Pyrogram's aerially blistering blade managing only to graphically lacerate the edge of his thick abdominal hide, enabling the superficial streaming of vermillion liquid from his gaping wound while the resultant explosion, being of solitary generation unlike the initial dyad of incendiary eruptions, this one failed to inflict substantial damage, serving only to pictorially dishevel segmented portions of the Brazi Bull's flesh, succinctly stunning him. Now faced towards his rushing opposition, Brahma's sanguine-hued oculus rested on the uncanny skeletal figure.

Abruptly, a hurled blade of flaming potency shot into the Titanic Terrorist's right thigh, tearing into his muscular tissue, imparting within him sufficiently torturous agony, the scorching heat radiated by the blade's supernatural metallurgy gradually burning ambient flesh prior to Brahma Bull spontaneously pulling the blade from his leg. "Um esqueleto? Ha! Boa (A skeleton? Ha! Good)", he sadistically murmured. Rising to both feet, stubbornly ignoring the stinging pain from his sustained thigh wound, the Brahma Bull lethargically extended his colossal arms outwards to his sides. Bringing both palms together in a monstrous thunderclap of unmitigated herculean force, it's generated might designed to spit on the structural integrity of this skeletal warrior, while impacting upon Pyrogram with unrelenting concussive force. Following this assault, the Anarchistic Alpha focused his attention on Dark Vengeance and Nobody.

Tersely caught off guard by the addition of airborne concussively antagonistic mines that erupted with decimating force against his head, his ear drums succinctly disrupted while predominantly relying on his eyesight, the Brahma Bull turned, facing the bat-themed vigilante while simultaneously bringing his gargantuan knee higher, expertly checking the detective's kick with cerebral intuition, the resounding ringing in his ears doing little to impair the Bull's performance, protective Kevlar layers and experimental fabrics in his mask offering him formidable protection as superficially sustained head wounds were of no concern to him. "You fight poorly, flying rodent", Brahma temperately mocked, "To strike against a larger opponent of greater reach is the epitome of combat stupidity", he derided, hurling a cluster of M67 Fragmentation grenades towards Dark Vengeance, their pins tauntingly dangling from the terrorist's fingers while subsequently reaching for the detective's grappling thread with the intention of hurling his opponent into any approximate infrastructure.

Transitioning onto Nobody, Brahma found his mask spontaneously teased by adhesive web. Nobody's peak-human strength while impressive, failed to contend with the herculean might of Brahma's thick neck muscles as the attempted removal of his mask was an exercise in futility. Brushing the web from his face, audible laughs of vocal mockery were emitted from the Goliath's frame, Nobody's extensive reliance on jabs further advertising the combat-based incompetence of his opponents. Jabs, punches that fundamentally lack power, and designed to either counter, establish distance or set an opponent up for a forthcoming power strike, did nothing but incite the Bull's amusement. "Hahaha! Costumed as an arachnid yet you sting like a ladybug. Que tristeza", he mocked, one of Nobody's metallic arms graphically piercing into Brahma's exposed shoulder. Growling in anger and inflicted pain, the Goliath's right arm shot towards his opponent, grabbing hold of one of the metallic arms, preventing Nobody's attempted escape. In a display of monstrous strength, the Bull would seek to violently hurl the arachnid through a succession of approximated infrastructures.

Visually pleased with the simultaneous arrival of nKratesis, Orcus, and an accumulative collection of armored cronies, the Brahma Bull began, "Woman", addressing his prized asset, "These are the fools who refuse salvation. Those who call us maniacs, terrorists... show them that they have joined their own death march. Select your victims as you see fit. Take my grenade launcher". Transposing his attention from nKratesis to Orcus, he begins, "Well my friend. Take your pick", ocularly gesturing towards the uncanny collection of 'Gothic Heroes'. Severely wounded, it was Brahma's ingrained tenacity that enabled his resumption of combat as armed cronies began their merciless assault of the valorous vigilantes. Noting the unforeseen arrival of a masked individual seemingly targeting his dearest follower, nKratesis, the Bull protectively positions himself before her lithe frame, briefly rushing towards her charging opponent, intent on wrapping his gargantuan arm around their upper chest and neck, striking this opponent with his arm, forcing him to the ground with a lariat of herculean physical power. However, with his multitude of sustained injuries, Brahma's considerable impairment was inevitable and imminent.