Gothic's Hour - RPG

Ace, Chance, Mick and Rob: The Church throw down.

@arquitenens@antidoll @ironphantom

The trio was still totally confused by the woman's antics and speech, she was clearly out of her mind. Before one of them could even murmur "what the fck?" the lights had gone out all around. Giggling and shuffling was all that could be heard over everyone breathing heavy, trying to get a fix on where this dame was. The plink of a bowstring and a loud thunk of a bat is what followed.

"For cryin' out loud, anyone got a goddamn light!?" Chance shouted, rather fed up with this night in general, waving his sawed off shotgun around, trying to get a straight target.

But finally, salvation arrived. In the sound of Link Davis's "Trucker from Tennessee" blaring from the Rat-Rod's radio. The engine screamed with fire and fuel as it slammed into the P.O.S sport's car that was already wedged in the Church doors. Headlights gave vision to everyone in the holy place, flooding with auto illumination.

And on the hood? The sharpest shooter in town. The Great Greaser, Ace, standing on the metal beast and lighting up a cigarette. "Now...Y'all ain't in a rumble without me now, right?" His nicotine veiled smirk was barely visible, but unmistakable nonetheless. In his hand was a fully loaded Colt 1911, getting raised up for sights on this twisted clown.

He was 20/20 vision, a perfect shot with pistols. Able to put led between a chump's eyes from twenty feet away, this dame was easy street. His trigger was pulled, firing all seven round right for the youngster.

Two bullets aimed straight for her knee caps, two for her shoulders, two for the spine and finally one for the back of her head. All without blinking once, and a puff of his cigarette.

Chance saw his chance. With Ace's arrival, the maniac was in full view, pointing his shotgun right for her and blindly letting off both shells, screaming in a rage for almost killing Rob.

Mick pulled out his Snub Nosed .38 revolver, closing one eye out of panic but still emptying the six shots for her. It was a ballistic symphony from both sides. Luckily, all three of these Rumblers were accurate enough to not his the blond dame, just barely though.

Rob still sat against the stone, his pale eyes flickering every time a gun went off. He was busy remembering Daisy, and their first kiss under the willows. His first solid punch on Joe's jock jaw. His life was in the cinema, and he was the only one with a seat, mere minutes away from his last breath.

The Rumblers

@apex_

The greasers gunned down a few more mooks that lurked about when this chick rolled up to them, seeing that she had wounded in her arms. "Yeah yeah, we got her covered" one of them assured her, carefully placing her in the back of their '46 Rat-Truck. "Ya sure you don't need a lift doll? This whole scene is getting really bad, and in a hurry.." The other one spoke in a rush, hopping in the back while the other got the thing started, ready to ride off the very second she answered.

The Rumblers weren't a charity, after all.

@darksider95@pyrokitten

The Genetic Giant's boots clacked against the concrete, his eyes forward as that was the only direction he wished to move. Forward, his back turned. He was baiting his opponents into attacking him, as if he could not functionally "see" all about himself in all directions wherever there was sound, movements and general vibrations. Unless he was floating in the vaccuum of space, he would essentially always see. One might inquire what he saw, and he saw a looming fire, and a man who lunged forward, diving towards him to skewer him with his claws.

Pax's response was to do nothing.

A set of blades appear poking through the behemoth's chest, the all cutting "Phantom Claws" slipping through the thick spider silk dermal armor that composed his hide and powerful muscle. It had gone deep into him, and yet despite this, the creature showed no sign of pain, or any true harm. His breathing was steady as it was moments ago. One of the blades had gone completely trough his heart, which stopped beating. And yet, without his heart, blood still moved, ebbed and flowed through his veins. However, should the man try to pull, he would discover the evolved properties of Pax's flesh that made it resistant to the sharpest of blades, including the likes of Adamantium, Vibranium, Trion and other such materials. His body was capable of gripping whatever blade pierced his body. Making it essentially stuck inside of it. His organs, were evolved to survive bloodbending, Pax fully capable of functioning, though to a lesser degree, with a majority of his organs outright torn apart.

"There a three kinds of people in this world. Wolves. Sheep. And Shepards. I do not see the world as black and white, and I know not everyone who is affiliated with them is directly responsible. But, if they must die for the sake of the city, so be it. If they live? Then let them continue to live. I did not start this war." He says, mostly the bodies of dead Bulls, his mercenaries and those caught in the crossfire. The ones who actually consist of the majority of his kills. "But I intend to help finish it. If the core of an apple is rotten, the apple is a rotten apple, no matter if the rest of it can be eaten. You? You refuse to pull the problem out from the roots, and instead insist on flicking off skin cells. I am aiming to tear down what it is establisjed, because it. Does. Not. Work. I do as you do. They failed this city, so I will take it into my own hands, and do what I believe is right." He looks over his back. "And I strike down those who's views contradict my own."

A fire loomed, the fire of chlorine trifluoride, threatening to engulf Pax and potentially destroy him. Blades, posed less of a threat to him, no matter how sharp. Some cut so cleanly, like the mystical katanas many often use, that Pax's flesh would regenerate before it even had a chance to fall apart, or seperate. As if it had cut water. The fire however, threatened to rend his molecules apart, to burn him to the bone, burn his bones into ash and then promptly burn the ashes into their other molecules. Destroying him beyond repair. However, instead of being forced to escape, he did simply nothing as Ice flash froze the area completely courtesy of another party (@the_shogun). He felt the ice forming as the others ran for cover, Pax tipped a car on it's side and yanked it towards him as he used it as a shield.

Suddenly, Pax's flesh flared, ebbing with energy, with power. Electricity violently sparked throughout his body, ATP rapidly being consumed by his body as he sought to send deadly amounts of current through the mercenary. Promptly his hands moving with blurring speeds, he sought to grab the man as he would be released from his flesh and contract his muscle with furious strength and speed, seeking to simply throw the man into a brick wall next to him and put him completely through it into some long looted convenience store.

His gaze snapped towards the girl where she was, pulling out the MAR 20mm rifle from his back, one handing the massive weapon most could hardly hope to practically carry around and pulling the trigger without pause or hesitation, the aim being the building itself rather than the girl. The round flew forward at mach 10, but the most powerful part of it was the Hafnium explosive within, for upon collision, it was almost something like a nuclear shaped charge. The ensuing explosion dwarfed of the tiny bullet that housed, the blast hitting with roughly 155,000 tons of force as it completely blew the entire building away, bathing it in Gamma Rays and X-Rays that atomized the area point blank upon collision, the blast like a giant beam as blast waves shattered near by windows. The explosion releasing far more energy than what most class 100 metahumans could push themselves to do through raw physical might.

Glass laid scattered about everyone having covered their ears, looking around at what was left of the building, the bottom still in tact, molten slag covering melted areas of what remained. But the top? Obliterated. He would be impressed, to say the least, if she was cunning enough to survive, but she was an enemy. But not one who he sought to deal with. Not now. For now, he had more important things to do than deal with this conflict. He ran now, electricity overriding his nerves as he took off at 50 miles per hour.

He ran with such speed and agility to effortlessly run along walls, jumping and hopping with Gorilla like agility, disappearing among the rooftops at car like speeds in the blink of an eye as the rest of his newfound forces scattered about the city in all directions.

@arquitenens: @the_puzzler: @antidoll:

Battery Level: 92%

Metal crunched against metal, pieces of both the luxury sports car and its armored assailant scattered about as the momentum of the two violently collided against one another. In the instant the two met the Ferrari came crashing to a sudden halt, the arms of Avalon's adopted AI piercing its hood and grabbing hold of the vehicle's frame as the car lurched to a sudden stop.

Unfortunately for the AI what did not halt in its tracks was its oddly optimistic driver, who, with a gleeful giggle of sorts, went careening through the church doors. In addition to the this run of bad luck came another, one that concerned the AI a bit more personally, as the engine of the luxury vehicle itself was launched from its place in the car's hood and straight into the machine's chest. The ~400lb iron and steel engine came rocketing out of the Ferrari at close to its original speed, slamming into the AI's alloy chassis and rocketing it back through the very people that it had sought to defend.

The machine's precision sensors picked up every scrape against the cool stone floors, the brief strain and inevitable CRACK of the bolted down pews as it came crashing through the church, the doors already smashed open by the clown themed villain, and finally it felt the giant stone altar crack and splinter as the AI's chassis was crushed between cold stone and cold steel. Its inner workings crushed against the armor designed to contain and shield them, the AI's body warped and caved under the force of the blow it had inflicted upon itself: a haphazardly repaired shoulder plate split, its arm nearly falling from its socket once more as the engine, finally through assaulting the AI's torso, fell to pin its legs beneath the hunk of iron. The AI's processing power was split, a lack of focus overcoming it as it attempted to at once diagnosis the damage to its hard drive and its outer body, formulate a plan of action, and locate those it sought to protect. The result? A blurry haze that yielded little concrete information as its processors sought to take in a torrent of information all at once and interpret it. Suddenly, one of the church's inhabitants snapped its focus back with a single sentence.

"Thank you ladies and gentlemen annnnnd GOODNIGHT!"

Step 1: Diagnostics---

Damage is extensive. Torso chassis heavily warped, left arm joint exposed--leaking hydraulic fluid, minor damage to internal processors (that explained the lack of focus) and cameras... cameras fully functioning?

That was odd. The AI's camera's picked up all that an average human being's would (in order to better relate to their world), the full spectrum of colors were available to it, and yet now it saw only darkness. Scanning the room once more in thermal vision it once again registered only empty space, the complete absence of light rendering the AI's optical sensors useless. Focusing its processing power instead upon its audio sensors the AI tried to make sense of the situation once more, and what it heard snapped it from its passive observation, spurring it into action once again.

The clown's voice had been registered in its database, should she speak again it could identify her and pursue, but there were no voices; there were only the quick, confident footfalls of the aggressor, and the adamant, decisive instep of the defender.

But whose steps are whose? The archer I'd encountered could easily be playing either of those parts, and the weight of the footfalls rules out the far heavier males...

And then came the impact, the rapid expulsion of air as a weapon found its mark against one of the combatants, a somewhat off-beat heart falling to the ground.

A heartbeat.

In that moment Iron Phantom launched into action, launching the engine from its legs with a casual bat of the hand, it rose to its feet, hydraulic legs lifting and launching it forward as a car came roaring onto the scene. Ignoring the roar of the engine and the cocking of the newcomers' weapons Avalon's caretaker AI launched forward once more, blind but knowing its target all the same. With a single powerful swing the AI sought to knock the deranged clown aside, and, once its opponent was grounded, would launch an electrically charged palm at her midsection, 50,000 volts at an amperage designed to create uncontrollable spasms in her muscles, rendering her temporarily incapacitated. If all went as planned it would pierce the ground of the church with its rivets, planning to twist the rivets around her wrists and pin her arms to the ground before her motor functions returned to her.

At the end of the exchange, regardless of the outcome, the Iron Phantom's exhaust ports would open,releasing its pent up heat and steam, creating a temporary smoke screen. Under the cover of the vented gas the AI slipped back into the shadowed portion of the church, retreating from the bright headlights of the incoming classic car and up into the rafters above the church, analyzing the new players, unsure of their intent.

@_nox_: @dragonfang_: @_avatar_: @_vex_: @solarhawk:

The burns, the lacerations, the internal bleeding, the bruises and shredded flesh, torn tendons and weakened bones, they'd begun to take their toll on him. He'd refused himself recovery from raiding Maverick Incorporated, he'd refused himself recovery from the Noir Rose's abrupt assault a week ago, and he'd refused himself any semblance of recovery from the endless barrage of hero after hero, vigilante after vigilante. If not for his endurance, abnormal and extraordinary even by the standards of a superhuman, the titan would have been toppled. And yet, he wasn't. He was battered, bruised, burnt, cut, and still he rose. He struggled but he stud. His right hand, gloved and trembling, gripped his gut tight in an ill-advised attempt to soothe his internal injuries.

Blood leaked and trickled from his mask, and yet his eyes, they wore no fear. Psychopaths had no concept of it. Fear. The Baabda Beast, he simply recognized it as the expression made by his victims seconds before he mauls them dead. Instead, Satar's eyes wore a mark, the mark of a predator, the mark of the beast. His chest heaved, and his breaths grew more labored by the minute. Even he recognized, for all his toughness, for all his endurance and tactical awareness, that against this band of heroes, in his current condition, he simply could not contend. His every breath lit his chest on fire, the pain swarmed his lungs and burned it to the brink of submission, but he endured. And he couldn't rely on the boons of his 'Gamma Effect' ability to aggrandize his power, his body was in no position to bear the strain. With little time for recuperation, Satar's senses flared.

They flared and flickered, warning him of a foe's movement, of Mark Antony's approach, the boy's muscle fibers conjuring the electric fields that offered the Baabda Beast something of a future insight into his approach. And by virtue of an abnormal nervous system, Satar reacted, faster than the human eye could follow. He'd reached for one of the two remaining grenades on his belt, removed its pin and tossed in Mark's direction, right at the commencement of the boy's movement. Its intention? Not to succeed with offense, but to succeed in forcing from the boy, a retreat. The pain seized his arm and the sensation couldn't have felt grimmer, it was as though his arm was to fall off, to sever itself from him. With a groan, the Baabda Beast endured, and the grenade detonated, spraying copious amounts of experimental sarin. Experimental not in bolstered toxicity, but in rendering it faster-acting.

Over twenty times deadlier than cyanide, the released sarin, while primarily used to deter Mark from following through with his attack, still sought to tighten his chest, constrict his pupils, choke his respiratory system and render him a nauseated, drooling, urinating, vomiting, defecating, and convulsing mess. Though for a moment, he froze, the victim of his injuries and wounds, they'd stung him into place, and exposed him to the vibranium knives that shredded and tore into his gut, spilling his blood and nearly leaving his mind blank. He'd nearly hunched over. His hands trembled, his fingers spasmed as he sought to pull the knives from his gut, to free them from the organs they'd undoubtedly slain. He stumbled on his first step, and on his second, found himself dropped to a knee, his breathing grown heavier. His senses warned him of Vex's approach, and as he rose his gaze to meet it, he saw clearly then, the opportunity for a counter-takedown, but his body would no longer allow it.

Instead, he reached for the 9mm submachine gun, a PP-19 Bizon, hanging from his belt, steadied his breathing, took aim, and as Vex inched ever closer, fired. He fired a storm of bullets, each intent on ripping clean through his foe's body with a hunger for gore. And like his counter to Mark's approach, this too was a means of deterring Vex from following through with his attack. But then, from above, descended another, striking him with a mace surging with electrical energy, the kind that burned his flesh beyond recognition and sent him crashing into the same building that the Avatar had smashed him into. Dropping to the ground, sluggishly, he rose, a green, luminous film flickering around him, the Avatar's power ring fit perfectly on his index finger. Perhaps, if not for the ring's shields, he would have been stopped, and left an unconscious beast on the streets of Gothic. Instead, he survived, and slowly, he rose to his feet, a perverse, warped and militaristic version of the lantern uniform adorning his frame.

He eyed every single one of his foes, but said nothing. Instead, he brought to life a construct, a large and luminous hand, gargantuan in its proportions, that sought to scoop Vex's sister, the Dragonfang into its unyielding grip and hold her there. And should he seize her as his captive, he would soon soar, accelerate away and plunge into Gothic's underground to lick his wounds, but not prior to holding with his own, Vex's gaze, holding it in earnest and making his cruelty clear. "Surrender Gothic City, or she dies. You have one week".

@satar: @_nox_: @dragonfang_: @_avatar_: @_vex_:

Solar Hawk's strike was successful and now came the hard part...not dying. Solar Hawk veered upward as much as she could but the impact and the narrowness of city streets was too much to avoid. She crashed through the cement facade of a building and vanished inside among a cascade of cement, twisted steel and shattered glass. She exploded out of the other side, her speeds far too significant to be stopped by one building and crashed into the next and disappeared completely from everyone's view.

Luna Hawk watched but there was nothing she could do but hope Solar Hawk's ring was still active enough to save her or that somehow her armor had done what she knew it wasn't capable of doing, absorb the full kinetic impact of hitting cement at mach ten. She knew Solar Hawk had taken a gamble that her ring would have enough energy left, you didn't make a fly by attack without knowing where it would take you. If that wasn't enough for Dark Vengeance to deal with, his sister was suddenly taken. She knew Dark Vengeance's likely impulse and suddenly grabbed his arm to restrain him. "Don't." She said firmly. "Not without a plan. Following after him without any support is exactly what he wants you to do. Munoz...go check on Shaeyra." She ordered. Munoz nodded and Sentinel Hawk took to the air and followed the trail of destruction.

Xae approached, having emerged at last from the combats she'd been engaged in and spoke to Dark Vengeance. "You don't know me, but I want a shot at killing that male before he destroys a whole city. I'll go with you, when you are ready."

@satar: @_nox_: @dragonfang_: @_avatar_: @_vex_:

Emerging from a pool of blood and gore, her clothes stained like you wouldn't believe, Lucia stood, hazel eyes surveying the battlefield before her. After her sudden burst of speed and the subsequent events of slashing the side of the Baabada Beast and slaughter of goons who had then exploded with energy, she had taken a breather, needing to recuperate her energy.

What she saw now was not the sight of a well won battle. Looking from the roof of a nearby building, the Beast had inexplicably acquired a glowing ring, emanating power and renewed strength. He held in a giant green hand construct another hero, one she did not know, but as he flew up, he looked down at them, his attention on Dark Vengeance.

'Surrender Gothic City, or she dies. You have one week.'

With that he was gone, leaving Lucia realizing the gist of what had transpired. Staring down at the grouping heroes, she decided she too should go down to them. Jumping off the side of the building she stood on, she walked over to them, blood smeared blade in hand with a single green glowing rune on its side. Overhearing the words of the other heroine, joined in.

"I too shall help, in any way I can."

@solarhawk: @satar: @_nox_: @dragonfang_: @_avatar_: @_vex_:

"You sure she's the one you want running in there alongside him."

"Well of all the planets that might be one who needs a surplus of us. And clearly someone's going to need to help him."

"I'm not arguing the choice of back up I'm arguing the choice of who is back up."

"If you maintain good character and bravery in Gothic you're helpless or one of the most brave of people."

"Again I understand that. She might be however ideal for reasons outside of who she is."

~Gothic City~

"The f was that light! Can't trust any of you damn mutants!" Remarked a man with shaking palm and rattling gun. More terrified then aggressive, a fact Babs knew a fact she could feel. Complex emotions crawling beneath ones skin and driving their actions. Perhaps it was pure bravery maybe it was her abilities providing a knowing intervention. In either case Babs stepped up to the rattling weapon her stance much more stern.

"I get it, devil been so long at your door you think the knob and window might be a demon or something. But this kid hardly looks like a lamb then a bull." Her voice was sweet but also strong not the least bit intimidating. However confidence radiated from her in place of said intimidation. A fusion of hope and bravery that was almost a rarity amongst the world.

"I saw a light though! Don't make me harm you to!"

"You won't. You can't shoot a girl looking you in the eye. And there's nothing wrong with that. Walk on home boy." The gun was surrendered but a vacant stare just blinked in mild confusion. "You know what I meant." The student turning to return his retreat to Gothic City Academy wanting to escape the calamity all about themselves. As he left the young child mutant, crouched before a puddle of the foul smelling substance turned to Babs. The child was without a nose and appeared to have a mutation related to smell manipulation. The child wouldn't be sparring the city of the aroma but was doing so for those the child could. In her hand was an emerald ring insistent that the violet skinned redhead take it. Doing so and sliding the ring on was a euphoric experience but one Babs didn't have time to dwell in.

"Should let me swoop in with some grand amalgram of animals in a massive swarm with epic lasers on their body and the like." The answer wasn't all that exciting of one. "Well that is a terrible intro." More response from the ring causing a stern turn of face. "Your god damn right I'll be in the sequel." With that Babs took off newly outfitted in unique emerald and onyx attire.

Jade streak of light stopping at the fall of the first Lantern Babs had ever seen. She'd seen little as of yet but that didn't shake away any of her impressions. Regaurdless of how much or little he did Babs thought most high of the Beta arguably still a rookie Lantern. "In darkest forest in greenest pasture no villain will escape my capture. Or ours I guess, swear to god if you die on me ima kick you in the face." It was a terrible introduction in her opinion but someone had to keep Connor safe. Angry as she was to not have a chance to stop the beast she also felt obligated to defend someone who now had no means of offense or defense. His ring now worn by the monstrosity who's will was as empowering as it was terrifying.

With this abomination of a Lantern was also the unconscious body of another redhead. While not as flashy as a flying Thomas the Train the Dragon had managed to drop a rhino humanoid of quite impressive ferocity. They'd fallen from a rather uninviting hight and though both had in a way been healed neither was standing. Which meant the dragon was captured.

"Birdie is right, nows not the time. I to will be there though when it is, and don't argue with me on that matter." Turning so that her emerald eyes could lock with the masked crusader something did feel familiar. This was because in truth the principal of GCA who enrolled her was standing right there. "Before we go about planning you should know however: Dragon Vengeance over there loves you, she stays alive for you. She'd rather be left to die then let your grip on this city lighten up. You are this cities salvation in her eyes, more valuable then anything else." She didn't want to detract from whatever Dark Vengeance wanted to do, just to let him know where his sisters stance was. Something hard to read as Jessica had for so long been iron forged hard for her to even showcase a hint of emotion on her own.

@ironphantom: @the_puzzler: @red_time_force: @arquitenens:

Three blasts struck vines burning holes in the the wooden surface. She leaped back and avoided one shot the other two however hit. However the damage was minimal and the floral manipulating Rose still stood. She wasn't able to be stunned by the weapons as she no longer was composed of the usual make up of a living person. Small scorched holes only revealed burnt vines beneath her emerald skin. However as the ranger turned to the use of a motorcycle seaming to hover and the other heroes were about to make use of a counter measure Rose received a text message. "Sorry red but I have to, well you'll see." A series of leaves and vines encompassing her and soon enough the woman vanished beneath the earth only leaves left to float on the wind.

The bat had more reach it's swing briefly capitalized on ahead of the arrow. In a brief moment her movement did stop right after the swing a brief opening when something could hit directly. Thankfully instead of an adhesive arrow, it was a car engine. Struck in the gut by a bulky device the blonde was thrown aside with a set of cracked ribs now to acompany her. She was quite thankful however for the armored thing be it man or machine it had just saved her. The best method of attack on Calamity was a simple one, it was just one that was also uncommon.

Rising to her feet a rather casual skip was made towards the car ruining her darkend advantage. To the enemies credit every round hit, her body slightly bucking from the numerous shots. Bullets rocked her body but fell away with perhaps not even a bruise as Calamity took dominion over movement. A complex and curious power that turned an average person into a juggernaut waltzing forward she raised her bat it's nails shining in the headlights as she sought to bring the bat down upon Ace's brow.

However a game of numbers could mean everything, and as the bat came down a iron clad foe came in with a strike aimed at the jester's back. Her power didn't stop things from hitting her just what impact it had. If you punch a wall both are hit but the wall isn't impacted that was similar to how Calamity's ability work. However she was still human and when hit with such electric shock therapy Calamity was forced to take a nap. Giggling in electrocuted enthusiasm the blonde inevitably fell over. Arising beside her was Rose coming out of cobblestone in a large blossoming flower.

"Forgive her she's an idiot." Rose remarked as she began to walk back into the street dragging her unconscious sister. Movement creating some immunity as soon vines came to further shield the vixens. Sadly the sisters hadn't quite gained the notoriety they wanted, every mess they walked into had been stacked comedically against them. As to what would be next the duo didn't know.

@_pax_: Spalt,blood splatted from the man's chest,but disturbingly the man's flesh began to mold around my phantom claws.I began to quickly remove my claws,but to my horror it wouldn't budge.Shit,shit,shit.I began to frantically think.Out of nowhere the hairs on the back on my neck began stand up like when a balloon is rubbed up against your scalp.The area began to flash like lights at a rave party,as electricity began to flowed my nerves.In the blink of an eye,I was sent crashing into a wall.

I slide on my knees after hitting the ground of the long abandoned convenience.This man had incredible strength,was he even human.I spotted the last can of Bear-Cola,nothing else remained expect for this damaged,smashed can of cola.The inside of the store was normal,other than the bullet holes in the walls,the wires sticking up where the cash register,and the shelves knocked over.I snathced the pop can,and began to chug down the godly liquid, as I strolled forward toward the goliath of a man.When the can ran out of its product,I slipped my helmet back on. My plan was to throw the can at the back of the giant's head before attempting to place an acidic round from my desert eagle into his chest.

@darksider95: @_pax_:

There was no swaying the man before her he believed that to conquor was the answer. Execution of lives to any extent was fine, more deaths were attributed to those who should die so he didn't care. Lives were expendable, open to extermination relatively regaurdless who they are. Begrudgingly Kit had to accept that some people had to die but his actions went to far. A weapon heavy and burdensome was drawn. Something which Kit knew was going to far she reacted instinctively.

Jumping forward Kit did everything she could to generate fire and electricity to spiral upwards in attempt to cut the round short. The pillar of fire and lightning was potent but to it's credit it wasn't as volatile as the flames before. A weapon used near by had done Pax a favor and extinguished the chemical flame. Round entering the pillar of shock and heat would be carried slightly upward and detonated prematurely.

Hostiles were gone blown apart by heavy weapons, there had been so many of them that any citizens were gone. The high rising tower was likely to have people within here did not. So she'd risk herself in effort to bring the brute before her. Sadly that meant her sudden clawed assistant would be trapped in the same blast radius. Still if it was them opposed to the innocent so be it. More of Gothic acted to survive then to be a criminal of some kind.

An astronomical amount of force over a hundred thousand tons of exsplosives force hit her. Blew Kit into a crater burried under twisted metal and molten stone. Many bones were broken her body battered. Bathed in Gamma and X-Rays from the energy in a hazardous overdose that might permanently afflict Kit even if she did survive the ordeal. Building roofs were atomized bubbling and devastated inexcusably. Windows shattered making a rain of glass shards about the area. However the dammage was smaller on a larger scale spread out but more manageable then a building being partially leveled. No lives were endangered people of this small part of Gothic allready the victim of the Brotherhood. The tower still stood, Kit able to detect the feint heat of warm bodies of those in the buildings and tower in the distance.

Kit however followed by slipping into unconsciousness herself she didn't burn thanks to her mutant genome but her attire was worn down with segments missing from explosive force. Bones were broken accompanying multiple lacerations both large and small. As for the cowl it was predominantly gone. Revealing to those in sight that the one jumping in front of bombs for her city was no more then a highschool student.

@satar: @_nox_: @dragonfang_: @_avatar_: @_vex_:

There was a moment of quiet before Sentinel Hawk returned. She lowered herself down to the ground with the form of Solar Hawk draped in her arms. Nothing about it looked good, gold blood was flowing freely from more than a dozen cuts and deep wounds, half of her helmet had been torn free and exposed a severely lacerated face that was either missing an eye or the eye was too swollen over to see it. One of her arms was clearly broken and she was missing more than two thirds of her left wing. Her armor had taken a serious beating but the Nth Metal had prevented even worse from happening to her. Her White Lantern ring was dim.

Sentinel Hawk carefully lay Solar Hawk on the ground and knelt beside her. She leaned over, putting an ear to her chest for a moment. She also took her left wrist and felt her pulse. Munoz was not a trained medic but her natural instincts were superior, she was able to diagnose wounds and life signs with the same ease as a highly skilled, highly trained doctor. Luna Hawk froze, her grip on Dark Vengeance's arm tensing ever so slightly. She was literally looking down at herself.

Sentinel Hawk carefully removed the helmet from Solar Hawk's head and put it off to the side. She brushed some strands of hair from Shaeyra's wounded face and smiled a little. "You're tougher than you look." She told the unconscious woman. She looked up at Dark Vengeance. "She's alive but only just." Munoz said. Luna Hawk breathed for the first time since Sentinel Hawk had returned.

@satar: @lucia_aurelius: @rapax: @solarhawk:

As the slide quickly closed the distance between the Behemoth and his relatively smaller avenger, the crackles of gunfire rang through the atmosphere, doing well to garner the attention of neighboring foes that were still fighting amongst themselves despite the turning of the tide in the battle. The barrel of the unique black gun was aimed directly key areas of Vex. He had little time to react as was the constant pattern with the blinding moves that Satar was able to muster even though his already beaten state. His ability to withstand the assaults of so many heroes and there most devastating attacks was testament to his rightful place as 'Heir to the Bull' no matter who wanted to argue it.

For a split second, Dark Vengeance considered following through with the attack and hoping for the best. To struggle with his last breaths and choke Satar to the very end even if it meant his own death. It might have been worth it. Might have, but it wasn't. Against all will and desire, the Ebony Knight pushed off the gravel street and tumbled backwards in a desperate attempt to evade the ricocheting calibers that were being discarded as their shells harmoniously yet chaotically fell onto the ground.

The gunfire made there mark and pierced a devastating pattern of holes onto the Onyx armor of Dark Vengeance as the crimson fluid of morality flowed freely through like an endless river. Nearly every bullet landed through the separation of plates that allowed for easier movement. A sacrifice in protection to aid in acrobatics.

Maybe Nox….Had the right idea.

Alexander thought to himself, reminiscing a discussion they had in their earlier days of costumed theatrics and how each of their uniforms differed from each other and the reasoning behind the comparison. He struggled to lift himself onto his feet and attempt to continue to scuffle, but it was no avail. He dropped to one knee and gripped whatever bloody mess he could grasp, desperately trying to slow down his own death.

No. Jess.

Snapped from his delusions of the afterlife, he witnessed a single act of horror. An attack on his family. He couldn't quite describe what he saw, but there was enough detail in his hazy vision for him to realize that Jessica, his sister and only remaining family, was being taken away from him once again. This time, he was right there within striking distance to stop it….But there was absolutely no energy left. Not a single muscle twitched in protest.

Still, his vision was fading and his breaths growing slower and slower while his body was slowing down and falling closer and closer into decompensated shock. He was so close to passing out, he was ready to embrace unconsciousness, but his anger wouldn't let him. Even though it was weak, his heart kept beating. Until now. He turned his head to what he believed to be the mention of his name being called from murmured words as the war was waning down.

"…..Dark Vengeance…."

The voice was solemn. Grim. Hopeless.

In the arms of another faceless being was Solarhawk. His lover.

'I'm alone.'

The words fell from his lips like a heavy burden being dropped. His sister was plucked away and his girlfriend was, by the looks of things, gone in every sense of the word. No matter what allies he could call upon or friends he might have leaned on for support, the foundation below him was rapidly crumbling away. The family he so clanged to with hope was fading as was his alertness. He wanted to git up. With every drop of his soul he wanted to chase after the newly powered Satar even if it meant certain death….Yet, he was only human. And as such, humans were weak and so was he. Into darkness and oblivion, he slumbered.

"Surrender….She dies….but only just…."

Reality mixed with dreams and words with sounds. Faces were detail less and everything was a buzz, but this sentence stayed in the back of his thoughts. In the depths of his mind. He would not forget it. Not now, nor when he rested and readied himself once again.