Knock it Off (CVU Open Event)

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afterthought

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@deicidium: @risingmoon: @weidmann: @littlespark: @voracious: @afterthought: @_razor_

After weeks of preparation and chemical experimentation Afterthough was finally ready to call the band back together. She had carefully navigated her sloe cruise ship into the port of New Orleans where the disturbing vessel floated in eerie silence at the edge of maritime traffic. Here at the home port of voodoo and big parties she sat on the deck listening to local music drift flirtatiously through the air. A few strokes of a keypad sent a message to the team she had put together for the truck stop hit. The message provided coordinates for the ship and a simple message. "Time to get paid boys and girls."

Afterthought thoughtfully turned a vial in her fingers, eyes gazing at the creamy white contents as if at any moment they might reveal the secrets of the universe. In truth the Binary genetic material was stubbornly silent. Why won't you talk to me? Why do you cling so readily to your secrets? She sighed in frustration and slid it back onto her belt. She turned her attention to the plot ahead. The target was perfect, high profile, filled with gold and simply classic. All the hallmarks of an attention grabbing heist. Afterthought craved a response from the hero community and the opportunity to put them in their place (namely six feet under).

The previous job had been one of material grabbing, specifically the binary material now resting in a vial at her hip. The hit had caused brief fighting and eagerly displayed the talents of the special team she'd brought together, it had also succeeded in getting her the materials she so desperately desired. What it failed to do was draw a significant hero response. That's ok, we'll get them next time. This time, it was about paying her team and getting together the financial resources necessary to build a permanent base of operations with all the usual accouterments.

For now the young girl simply waited. She lounged back on a deck chair and half closed her eyes, contemplating the meaning of life, the universe...and Binary genetic material. You'll open up to me eventually, they always do. Every Esoteric material reveals itself to me in time...you simply don't have a choice. You think you're special because you're alien? I'll show you. There's nothing about you that I won't know...and I already have the perfect application once you're willing to admit defeat.

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Wooka

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@afterthought:

A small critter, a component of Beta just so happened to be scurrying along the rooftops of containers parked for loading in the port of New Orleans. It was just a simple surveying mission for Slimy. She loved the freedom, to be frank. There was a time when she was simply one of the toys that belonged to a certain @j_the_toymaker, someone. She was in space! She just had no idea what was about to happen to her, but whatever it did, it happened. A cyborg got his hands on her, and she scurried to escape, tried to claw her way out but the giant robot did not let her go. In the end, she was brainwashed, memory wiped to serve the robot as a part of her system. This life was not too bad, she decided for herself. After all, the good doctor was kind, gave her a few upgrades, and new systems, although limited due to her small size. She was barely 10 inches in length, after all, so the most she got out of this was mostly software upgrades.

Slimy was about to head home after her mission was done when her sensors alerted her to an anomaly present. A gigantic floating ship had just come into the harbour. Of course, she had to check. It was in her programming. She was a scout! And a damn good one at that.

"Target of interest detected Beta," The little mouse sent a signal to its Master who was at that moment holed up in an apartment not far away from the port. "Prepare for preliminary evaluation," The little thing sent back. She was small but Slimy was in no way incompetent. She was a smart little critter but more importantly an extension of Beta. "Target is so far away!" She exclaimed as she approached the end. "I might not be able to make it on board!" But she had to try. "Ignition!" Boom! Rockets emerged from on top of her back as she jumped off towards the ship. BOOOOOOOOOOM. The rockets carried her up despite the winds trying to blow her aside, and it did blow her back and forth a few times before she was able to land on the underside of the flying vessel, her feet turning wide and flat, allowing her to cling on using the power of magnetism.

"Success!" Her shrieking voice carried through the comm channel back to Beta and subsequentially to Wooka sitting in his underground base in Seattle.

The old doctor now 47 looked up at his screen. Something interesting has popped up in the skies after two years. He could see it from Slimy's optics. She'd also performed a visual scan of her targeted pre-boarding, so Wooka had a clear picture of what he was dealing with here. "Humans and their rich spendings. They decide to build these things which only end up being destroyed in the end." Wooka put down the wrench in his hand. He was working a turret for his base's defence applications. Wooka moved towards his computers and sat down in the chair and put on his headphone, "Rendezvous with Slimy. Things could get hairy...you know how it is aboard these human thingies...like last time. Do you need to be ported?" Every piece of lost hardware meant a loss counted in tens of thousands of US dollars. Now, this was not a cost Wooka was necessarily willing to have. On top of that, this was harvest season. Last time, Warden had given him precious data from his systems, and presently, there was apparently a new player in town. It was exciting to think of what he could scavenge off of this mission.

"No Doctor, I'm located a few miles from Slimy. I can catch up to him in a minute or so," Through the traffic of new Orleans? Even if she could run faster than a human being, it would at least take her 5 minutes to get to the port. And there was necessarily no way to board the ship.

At the port, little Slimy took baby steps from beneath the belly of the beast towards the top of the vessel. Her systems had already structured a holographic image of the ship's dimensions based on her first picture, and establishing a simple and faster route up was easy. The map wasn't detailed though, but click by click, the little mouse was sending small squeaks, sound waves that bounced off of the ship's shell, which then reinforced into a clearer more detailed image of the exterior as she moved along. She was running blind, for now, but the more she explored, the more aware she was going to become.

"I hope no one finds me!" Slimy whispered to herself.

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LittleSpark

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@afterthought and the crew

Ain't half past noon when the message comes in. Little jolt through the phone where it lies up against me. Don't tell me it's 'lays,' it's all lies one way or the other. "Time to get paid," the lady says. Not much use on my own account, but it's useful for other things. Money makes the world go flat. I grab my girl by the hand and pull her outside. She don't protest. Not any more.

No Caption Provided

Not after what they did to her. One of these days, I'll tell the story of how it ended. How it all went down. Maybe it's already past time that story was told... but now ain't the time for it. Just gotta wait a while longer. For now, I get her up and get out of the city, down to the beach where I need to be. The ship's out there, on the horizon. I'm not much of a swimmer. There's always complications, no matter how you travel.

I sit her down and wait for a solution. Ain't long before a couple of 'em come up our way. Problems? No. Not with me around. Take the girl's hand, nice and slow. Don't think she even hears what they're sayin' to her. Doesn't matter anyway. Not for long. I move, and take the arc through 'em both. Pull out the energy I want from 'em. Damn, that feels nice. I'd forgotten that for a while, back when... oh. Wait. Wasn't gonna tell that story yet.

Ocean washes the blood away. Girl's hands are the right size for slipping in to a pocket, pullin' out the little key. Jet skis are parked not to far from here, just around the bend. Don't take long to find the right one. No one asks me any questions. They usually don't.

She don't know how to drive, but the internet does. I pull the relevant info and make sure she does what she's supposed to. Ain't too long before we're on a ship. Ain't exactly a nice one... but we're not exactly nice, either. Sometimes people forget that. Then somethin' reminds 'em. Like hitting an iceberg. Sink or swim, and I can't swim. Might as well drag the rest down, too.

The other redhead's sitting in a chair like she owns the place. Suppose she does. Still doesn't mean she ought to be proud of it. I give her a little salute, lightning crackles along the edges. Set the girl down on the deck where she's out of harm's way. Figure it's the least I can do for her.

Don't know if I owe her that much. But someone ought to.

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_Razor_

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@afterthought: @littlespark:

No Caption Provided

Never an easy task getting anywhere in the world nowadays. When you've been wanted for attacks on the White House and assassination of Noc Haven's former ruler amongst countless other crimes that tends to result in such. Ronins Rest was a good hide away while waiting, the world didn't go there much. There were however some people who went there with intention of eventually leaving. Members of the Orochi in the Shogunate, plotting insurrection for not being aggressive enough. Simultaneously they were human and had no right to judge things. They had a plane to fly in, the colors to pass by a good number they imagined. Then they approached her to try and have the right accomplice. It made sense Razor was about change, but to her these two didn't have the craft to make a revolution just thought they did. Perfect excuse, to have transportation she spent time getting to know them. Shared a room with them eventually let them think it was more. Lowered guard when phone rings, wake up and a head is immediately carved open before he can rise to his feet.

Other ninja was alerted by soft sound of blood hitting carpet. A quick slice with her foot and a blade cuts above the knees deep enough to fracture bone. He's fallen before he can even get up. She catches him and moves back a moment as a shrunken is flung underhanded toward her brow. Bladed instrument digs deep into the ceiling hers do the same into the jugular veins and jaw. Now she has a plane, they were heading to New Orleans, next came homework she looked for one of the parties being held. Gathered files on a member in one, ties to police maybe he was a rat. Maybe he was planting something. Point was there was enough there to suggest Razor might go after him with her loose ideology. Set herself up with an invite to go to said party herself, for the right price and the right speech it was theorized one could recruit the killer. She had a cover story to throw others off her trail.

The flight was boring she used a phone to look up manuals and the like on flying during the time. Gathered information to have some idea what she was doing and to help paint the story she was coming to Orleans for someone else. Land on the beaches sometime in advance and climb to the top of the plane, tide was going to be high enough to hide footprints, wind would blow the rest away. Least that was the story, the image conveyed. that she'd just enough time to sneak into the city at the dead of night. She herself however leaped from the jet into the water, and began to swim. Once far enough out she took the burner phone she'd had to be contacted by her employer rested the waterlogged device on her fists and let her claws come free and a series of other spikes rise out. Ripping the phone already damaged by water into shreds. Set to go adrift at sea she was pretty confident that it would go unfound and unusable even if it's fragmented parts were.

The rest was just a matter of swimming to the boat, healing factor helped maintain the stamina. Small points came off her nails to allow climbing the ship without risking to much damage and soon enough she was aboard. A towel grabbed as she entered the ship so that she might dry out her hair. "Morning" Rayne remarked in greeting resting soon after against a wall so as to not drip water everywhere as she dried off. "What comes after we get paid" she didn't join for profits alone after all.

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Voracious

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#5  Edited By Voracious

"Slash marks? The hell? Thing looks like someone went at it with an axe. Straight up medieval. What do you think mike?"

The man turns, and sees a flashlight spun off down the hallway of the engine room. and no sign.

"Mike?"

"....Mike? W-Where you at man?"

Doorway creeps open down the hall. Naturally, he looks around to find something. Anything lying around. A crowbar. Perfect. He pushes the door to the next compartment open and shines the light inside. His common sense urges him to not enter and to think that maybe he's somewhere else, right? That's some paranormal activity type shit, right there. Shine the light a little more down the hall and he sees something. It's mike, laying on the deck on the second floor of the engine room at the bottom of a ladder. Probably fell. He didn't think about how his friend crossed the distance so quickly. Or why he left his flashlight. Maybe he got lost or something.

He rushed over, his boot clacking against the metallic grates that separated the floor. He rushed down the ladder and stooped down to his level, feeling for a pulse. Alive, but he's out cold. No bleeding, no sign of trauma. Shine the light in his eyes and he just lays there, eyes pale. "**** Dude..." He tries to wrap his friends arm around his shoulder to get him up, but it's no use. He isn't even slightly awake. Ends up dragging him. "Hey!" He bumps into something. It's a guy, or at least it looks like one t'ill he shines a light in it's face. Hoodie up, he sees it's mouth at least. His jaw bisected down the middle and it had some kinda tendril like tongue sticking out of his mouth with two long stingers on it.

Pinch. He's not dreaming. The two fangs at the end of his tendril jutting into him hurt for a second. Fear compelled him to attack by trying to smack the thing's head, only for his crowbar to be stopped ever so casually. Soon, he doesn't really care. The Kiss does that. Doesn't even car as he watches his blood get sucked away and go into that thing, or the fact that it effortlessly overpowered him. Almost like the thing sucked away his will to fight with each passing second. It felt like he was high, like he'd seen Nirvana. If this was the end, he'd be good with that

I could kill you. Gain insight to all that you know, and are so capable. Snap your neck when I am finished. But I shall not. For it is not my place to judge you.

The man is dropped unceremoniously to the deck. Switch gets flicked on, and the lights in the engine room come back. Nobody else really finds the slash marks and the bodies are gone. Stuffed in some closet with the two together and a half full bottle of whisky between them.

The beast was kept at bay, and he'd intended it to stay that way. His Zweihänder was comfortably hidden in his safehouse, with the girl hopefully not playing with it. He stowed himself away in and he only had his LWRC M6 with him, along with a combat knife. Reminded him of crawling around in the mud during the War to end all Wars. No room in tight corners to be swinging around such a big sword. And potentially, no need. He'd made mistakes. Insight and a clear mind opened his eyes to a larger goal. They were like...children. These thieves. Killers. Children. Lashing out at the world entire world because they'd been wronged. Or perhaps, he was wrong? Those were questions for later.

For reasons he perceived as both practical and personal, he did not yet reveal himself.

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Weidmann

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@_razor_: @littlespark: @afterthought:

Erhardt's entrance was as always through a swirling circle of mist and snow that seemed to open up from nowhere in the middle of the ship's deck. However, something was quite different than normal, instead of two boots hitting the wood as he stepped out of the portal alone, they were followed by the soft tapping of four paws. As the Weidmann brushed the snowflakes from his shoulder, the grey young wolf pup by his side shook the snow caught to his coat off. It had been a while since Killer had gotta a proper chance to stretch his legs asides from just being let out for the bathroom. While the small hound didn't seem to mind being couped up for so long, Erhardt still figured a bit of time out couldn't hurt.

It was obvious that he was right about the wolf needing a bit more time out, as a couple seconds after he got used to the rocking of the boat the animal took off like a hyperactive ball of fur. Darting off the examine every corner of the new environment, the newly attached lens around his neck clinking around. Heading towards the nearest person he could find he ran straight up to Razor who was leaning against a wall. He bounced from foot to foot, looking up at the woman. His eyes had an almost expectant look to them like he was waiting for someone.

Walking a couple paces behind Killer, Erhardt made his way to the part of the deck everyone was gathered. Giving Spark a nod, he looked over at his dog. "Yeah, he's a bit of an egomaniac. Dunno how, but he seems to think he's so cute that people just can't help but pet him. Honestly, even if you're not a dog person it might be a good idea just to get it over with, he might not settle down otherwise." He said, looking at Razor and Killer who was still bouncing around at her feet. Erhardt was about to turn away before he paused. He seemed to be realizing something before swiftly putting it out of his mind, there was no way someone would just decide to swim all the way out here. The boat must have been hit with a massive wave... one that only managed to hit her.

"So we the only ones stupid enough to stick around? Or are the rest just on their way?" He asked, not really aimed at anyone, as he leaned against a guardrail overlooking the ocean.

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afterthought

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@weidmann: @_razor_: @littlespark: @afterthought:

No Caption Provided

"Way I see it, if anyone else is showing they'll show when they show. I'd rather get things on the road, plan is pretty simple."

She smiled and rolled out a map on a wooden table, placing a few clock work spiders to hold the edges of the map in place. The map, to an informed eye, was a layout of Fort Knox. "We're gonna phase-port into the main repository here. We'll need a few people to hold the entry points to the vault room, I'll get the door open. We go in, fill this..." She pulled out what looked for all the world to be a cartoon roll up hole and unrolled it on a different part of the table. "With everything we can toss into it. When we're done, we phase out. In the middle of that, I want as many guards and hero types dead as we can manage, leave behind something for people to really remember it by. When it's over we'll have pulled off a classic heist and drawn meta attention to boot."

She smiled a bit at her abrupt plan, it was simple, less complex than the first one. "I don't want to be complicated this time. The money gets split evenly like I said the first day and my share is going to buy us a permanent place to call a base. People can come and go as they please but there will be resources there, all the usual stuff heroes build at their team bases, but with dark and edgy colors."

Afterthought crossed the deck to where Spark was sitting and crouched down, examining her for a moment with a pair of lenses placed over her right eye. She retrieved a clockwork dragon fly and placed it gently on the girl's leg. "I'm a horrible listener, but this guy's not half bad. Our lead singer doesn't look like she's feeling great..if you need to open up...just turn this little guy loose. When you're done, if you want to forget something you can press this button on the side. Only works for awhile before the memory comes back."

She stood and turned her attention to everyone again. "We're not a bunch of lovey dovey teenagers and it doesn't matter to me if you guys even like each other that much or not...but we work better if we're all as close to one hundred percent as possible. Someone has something wrong, I'd like to know about it."

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LittleSpark

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#8  Edited By LittleSpark

@afterthought: @_razor_: @weidmann:

Others start to arrive, one disaster after the next. Blood dries off and so does Rayne, grabs a towel for herself. Weidmann comes in with some sort of dog that dances around the Razor like he wants a trim. My girl watches the mutt a while, probably the first interest she's taken in anything since... well, since that fiasco. Not much to go on, but it's a start. Only lasts a few moments, though, and she's back to vague. Don't know if the others'll notice. Don't know if it'll matter.

Ain't too long before we've collected enough horsemen for our very own apocalypse. Scarlet Rayne's gotta be War. Thoughtless leader has to be Conquest. That leaves a sword with a girl and a man with a sword. I'll give the other one Death, he's got the look of the Reaper. Grim man on a pale horse. Famine suits me just fine. Probably better than I'd like it to.

Afterthought makes with the paperwork, unrolls an outline of a story waiting to be written. Doesn't sound like too much of a detailed plan. Basic premise is the same as any other. Loot, then pillage. Gotta keep your mayhem in order. Sounds like she's put more thought into the team colors on the proposed base than she has into the heist. Might be a girl thing. Can't help but note she don't say what those colors are. Ain't gonna matter much to me, long as it ain't orange. No one respectable wears orange, they say. @orange_water: ;)

No Caption Provided

Leader walks over to my girl like she's got an answer, but all she's got is another bug. Sets it down easy, but my girl doesn't notice. I wait until the lady backs off a little, then take my girl's hand and move, cut the little gadget in two. Get the point, lady? She don't need your pity, and I don't need your help.

Not sure what the little device was supposed to do, not gonna ask either. I'll just wing it. Concern ain't needed. I got nothing wrong. Lightning crackles along my edge where it struck, sparks fly out, sparks fly in. Oh. That's how that thing worked.

Yeah. I get it. Don't know if that'll be much use, but I'll keep it around for a little while. No idea if it'll be useful or not. Plan ain't much, but it'll do as far as I'm concerned. Just gotta wait for the lady to give the word. "How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?” Sounds like we're gonna take 'em by storm. Open up their eyes.

It's gonna be a Revelation.

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_Razor_

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@weidmann: @afterthought: @littlespark:

A warrior takes a knee and beast sits up right, hand of a killer extends to find the paw of another killer. A hound of war gets the attention of a blade on the battlefield. A raven haired maiden of siege finds perhaps to some surprising comfort in company of death. And in all the apocalyptic word play a hand of a woman simply scratches behind the ear of a mutt. "Shouldn't settle, complacency breeds weakness." Personally the energy of the dog was welcome to the living weapon, he was lively and lively people got shit to happen. Her hand continued to give as much attention as the creature wanted as a mission plan was given, something to do. It'd taken long enough in the l.revolutionary's opinion.

"When did you get phase tech?" A curious development way the killer saw it. "That question out there I'd also argue that puts us all to close. Two looters and two door watchers means close enough for someone to get an upper hand." One good air struck from a tech specialist one good speed blitz and it could be an issue. "You're the boss. I'd think you'd want to make a scene outside and one inside while the other two loot and kill any who pass them." Rayne remarked looking to expand the plan some, there was rarely ever an inbetween when it came to missions. Usually either one showed up or an abundance did when it came to heroes.

Jade eyes looked to the singer and then settled for just a nod, she felt confident she'd be ready when the time came. If she wanted to talk to a living weapon she was welcome to but then maybe she already did talk to one. "As for a base I like the idea of this boat myself. Daughter probably would love knowing mom was a pirate if she were ever around." Not that she wanted to drag the kid into things though if it could be helped.

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Weidmann

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@_razor_: @littlespark: @afterthought:

Erhardt glanced at the plans, making no effort to hide his skepticism when he saw when their next heist would be targeting. From a truck stop to Fort Knox, seemed their leader was going to stop at nothing to get the audience she wanted, and until that she was gonna keep upping the stakes. He didn't mind it per say, but he wasn't so confident in the team's synergy. It was probably to be expected seeing how if everyone here was like him, then they're used to fighting by themselves. Frankly, if the last job was the rehearsal for this one they weren' ready to go onstage yet. However, even shades attempt to get them to talk their problems out, Erhardt remained silent. He didn't really have a problem with anyone as a person, more he doubted how great they were as teammates. Though to be fair, he'd be surprised if anyone didn't think the same about him. If it all came crashing down around them, he'd rather them no be in the middle of Fort Knox with countless metas on their hands.

"I'm not gonna say I like the idea I'm about to put forth, but it might bug me if I didn't at least put it out there," Erhardt said, noting how the moment he thought he might have been wrong about everyone looking out for themselves he was imminently reaffirmed when spark cut the gift in two. "You seem to really want to kill some heroes, don't know why but that's your business,so why not announce what we're gonna do? Tell the whole world we're robbing Fort Knox, get a crowd waiting for us and everything. Now to be fair it sounds like suicide, and it probably is, but just seems like the most effective way to pull in metas."

Next to Rayne, Killer sat blissfully unaware of the conversations going on around him. Instead, one foot rhythmically pounded the ground as he got the sweet spot behind his ear scratched.

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RisingMoon

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@weidmann: @_razor_: @littlespark: @afterthought:

"Sorry I'm late - hit a patch of tough luck on the road."

He'd been lucky to make it out with his life, and it was an experience he didn't want to relive. One job's pay would be plenty for a good, long while. The pretty boy bad luck charm had had his fill of trying to kill supers. While he had a feeling that his departure might be a shift in luck for the whole crew, he also knew that his staying might mess more up. Luckily, most of the gang was here, and he flashed a pearly white smile at them as he strutted in. Eh, he might as well not retire just yet. Maybe find out what the plans for stage two were before cutting all ties. Who knew, it might be more sane than the last fiasco.

"So, what'd I miss? We get paid yet, or we waiting 'til after the next job?"

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afterthought

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#12  Edited By afterthought

@risingmoon:@weidmann: @_razor_: @littlespark

"We get paid after this job, this job provides the pay." Afterthought said, addressing the last point first, mostly because she could. She removed a vial from her ever present him pouch and held it up, it was a weird array of colors that liquid, a strange array indeed that seemed uncertain...or perhaps unable...to settle on a color. "No technology my dear bladed friend, you know me better than that. This stuff takes a long time to make, its expensive too so I don't make much and I usually only keep enough to get myself out of tight spaces. This time though I made enough for all of it. Stinks a bit after you use it though, might consider a change of clothes later."

She handed one to each person in the group. "Smash it on the floor, it takes a bit." She smashed hers on the deck. The stench was beyond foul, a combination of rotting flesh and death. "I like your idea, spread out a little more. I want our star singer outside and our star razor blade with her. The others will take care of the interior." At last, she addressed Weidmann's point. "There will be time for that...but more than anything, even my desire to kill metas heroes...I want this operation to succeed, we need it to succeed. So we go in quiet, go out loud."

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Voracious

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*Click*

"Huh? Who the hell left this door open?" He moves over to shut the door. He feels a cold air rush past him, accompanied by distortion in the air.

*Creek.*

"The hell?" The door behind him is open.

The Black Blur moved in bursts, unable to be perceived by cameras, let alone the all too human eyes that. The two men in the closet were enough to stave off the beast, but he rest in a good place, in which the beast would like more. It sought blood that he so sickeningly had come to crave. His Bayonet clad M6 LWRC Assault rifle hung from the strap in front of his chest as he got onto all fours to take in their scents. All familiar, as he'd smelled all along the scene. He read the newspapers and got every bit data he could. The beast honed his hearing so he could better hunt, his hunger compelling him to seek them out.

Yes. Voices. One? No. Two voices. His head snapped to the sound off chatter. The pieces came together as his predatory instincts put together the puzzle and began to lead him to the blood he so craved. His body turned to a blur. Closer. Closer. Closer. They're right there. Just pop out any moment and-

No.

The safety of his gun unclick, but his hand ensanres the foregrip tighter. His arm around the barrel. He holds the gun close, aiming it forward at nothing. Visions came, and it reminded him of times when he felt human. When he struggled. When he fought like a man, not a monster....

Calm yourself. Calm yourself. Think of the girl. Think ofthe girl.

Someone approaches, and his eyes snap towards him. Another corner, and someone else approaches.

*Woosh*

The sea rushes by below his feet, no floor to comfort them. He hung by a single arm, his hand grasping the ship's anchor.

"Arrrrrrrrrrgh..."He groans out of irritation once again, but his eyes key up.

"With everything we can toss into it. When we're done, we phase out. In the middle of that, I want as many guards and hero types dead as we can manage, leave behind something for people to really remember it by. When it's over we'll have pulled off a classic heist and drawn meta attention to boot."

That is your plan? That is what drives you? Such arrogance. Hm. What drives her.

He scowls in contempt as he listens further. Meditation has taught him to hone his temper, and it made him a better hunter for it. Wait. Now is not the time. Wait. Watch. Listen. Men taming their instincts is what ultimately got them this far, ahead of the animals.

Phasing technology.

He hears the crash of a blade into the ground and the cackle of electricity. Conversation ensues as they discuss the details.

So, you use technology. Your blood smelled human.

The so called Afterthought was indeed human, but she wasn't a weak link. None of them were, really. They'd all demonstrated their abilities before, and to rush in may not be wise. At the same token, if he let them all go then they would.

I could alert the base. I seek no glory.

But then what would happen? People would still die. Every minute spent hunting was a moment He could have at them. Here and now. Attempt to end it once and for all. His hand clutched his rifle. Or he could grant their wish. And simply alert the media to the heist in question for them.

If they wanted attention so badly? Then perhaps they could have it.

Choices. Choices.

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_Razor_

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@voracious: @littlespark: @weidmann: @risingmoon: @afterthought:

No Caption Provided

"Don't worry about it. Meetings are just that, I don't count on people in the board room just on the field." Rayne wasn't aware of the current stowaway on the ship. Already their plans were being listened in on and maybe a defense was in preparations. Truth be told however Rayne didn't intend to leave time to be jumped in this boat. They had a mission and basic idea of how they would execute it so it was time to move out. Her claws extended and her mentality focused in on simply what was to come. For there to be change she had to count on these people. Even if they all died today they could still obtain something if they just could put enough stock in each other to see things through.

"Killer look after him would you, I'd rather you not get shot with me." The killer remarked giving a final pat to the dog's head. Killer seemed the only one to really like the killer. They didn't have to like her though, nobody should she was just a bitch and a weapon. She felt however they could trust in her, she'd see things through or die trying. She was an instrument of death they just had to pick what needed to die. They wanted a body count as well with this mission and that was something Rayne would gladly see to. She didn't know the technology Afterthought used nor did she like the idea of using it. For Razor however that didn't matter. It was a means to get to point A to point B and get things going so she used it. Carried off in an instant just like that smell be damned.

Fort Knox

Granite walls and blast proof doors the bunker like fortress could be expected to be well fortified like that at the vault but it they were being honest Rayne expected it to be more like that on the outside and even thicker within. It had to be safe guarded from metahumans to and the kind of things they could do went far further then granite and iron. Fences were plenty and likely modified in a variety of ways to keep people out. It's security personnel would be a plethora of the Mint Police likely not only well trained but as the metahuman population had grown more and more armed with weapons to leave an impact on resilient foes. It was going to hurt showing up here, but she was used to that.

No Caption Provided

Razor arived a cloud of smoke disipates in the wind to reveal a face that to security and armed forces was plenty known. The woman who had fought for this very country and also killed soldiers of this country. A woman who'd fought their enemies and fought alongside said enemies. Someone who'd marched on the White House in the past, who'd antagonized families before and had killed the leader of Noc Haven. Her path was soaked in blood and a collection of limbs. Her ideology saw friends and foes fall by her talons to a point ideology might have just been showings of perceived insanity. Claws extended a stance ready to head for the gates and with it came all the trappings of those ready.

Alarms would sound off.

Messages of all kinds would go out.

Ideally the world would start to know Razor was coming for Fort Knox and not long after be caught unaware of her companions. In any case the living weapon didn't hesitate, simply began the sprint for the gate. Automatic weapons began to go off, chunks of flesh were ripped from her body. Blood splashed along freshly watered glass, they were good shots one round even found Razor's eye briefly making it pop and painting the side of Rayne's face. Bullets weren't going to do it though. Hands reach gates and her body convulses.

Hundreds of volts surge through her body, skin cooks smoke rises from her body as she burns inside. She focuses simply on walking forward though. Grit ones teeth and keep putting one foot forward as her skin sharp as a diamond edge stresses the fence wire. It begins to cut and snap as she pushes through, flakes of cooked flesh and splatters of blood from previous wounds and oncoming fire fill the area. All to very little avail however this was what she did, suffer and bleed to see things to a point of violence. And soon enough she was into the yard, bloodied and a mess but not yet stopped. And from there she sank her claws into the closest guard, carry the points up enough to create quite the spill and then rummage through his pockets.

She found the headphones and phone she was looking for and plugged herself in as her body twitched from a round to the back. Found herself some music to listen to, in theory she was here to gather an audience for a particular singer. Rayne really didn't want that lullaby putting her out to however. So she tried to find something more befitting of the violence the living weapon lived with. Once satisfied she began a sprint for the closest person who'd been trying to fill her body with lead. They were good, she was leaving a good trail of herself between the trail of them. It was just a difficult task to keep the razor down.

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LittleSpark

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@afterthought: @_razor_: @weidmann:

Warlady steps into the portal, gets sucked down through whatever mystical plumbing is mucked up in there. Seems like an easy way to dispose of a rival. Convenient. I can't say I like the idea, but no one's offering any other ones. I'm not a fan of all this fast travel. I like to see where I'm going. Nothing like jumping in a blind hole to make you regret your life choices. Can't say I've had too many choices, lately, so maybe it ain't gonna matter. I pick up my girl like a ragdoll, carry her over to the place where it's all gonna go down. Could be better. Could be worse. No time like the present.

No world for tomorrow. I move, and pull the girl in with me.

Guess the world don't end right away. It's gonna take its time getting there, like always. Portal drops us in the bunker like sewage in a canal, and there's already blood all over the place. Figure a fair bit of it belongs to pretty Scarlett, but the rest of it doesn't. She's been makin' good on her account. Guess it's time for me to pay the piper as well. We've got a moment while they're distracted, and I charge things up, get that lightning blue corona going. That'll draw attention, but I ain't there any more. Quick boost and we're half caught up with the bloody baronette, right there on the fence where she decided to have herself a genuine Kentucky barbecue.

Discharge the lightning like a bomb going off, overload the fence - what's left of it, anyway. Oughta be enough to let the others come through without trouble. Assuming they're gonna follow, anyway. Wouldn't blame 'em if they didn't. Can't help but notice our leader seems to be the rear echelon type. Scarlett's running down the road, one guard after another. I plant my girl in the gap.

We'll hold the line.

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Voracious

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If there is anything that people flock to protect, it is money.

Glory? Glory was for fools. All too often would heroes lunge into battle without any effort to inform those who were going to need his assistance. No more. All civillians in the surrounding areas had been moved. While, he did not face down the gang on the boat, he can at the very least say that

No Caption Provided

The Depository was small. But there was over 3 counties worth of space at 109,000 acres for Septimus to hide his weapons and his armor among the base.

At 1,800 dollars an ounce, and the Bullion Depository supposedly holding some 147 million ounces of gold, there was functionally 269 Billion Dollars in it, enough to make one richer than the owner of Bill Gates and Amazon combined. Less than that, the Declaration of Independence was transported to here in the 60s. From what he'd gathered from the internet, the entire base around the building was over 30,000 strong with tanks, attack helicopters, artillery and numerous armed guards already stationed on the depository. This was to speak nothing of the depository itself. The front door itself weighed 22 tons. The walls were 4 feet thick and reinforced that the entire place wouldn't really make too bad of a nuclear bomb, making stray artillery hits, small arms fire and tank fire towards the area likely irrelevant.

None of whatever Septimus had planned included actually being inside the depository and to worse, he has nearly exposed himself revealing their plans. Indeed, this battle required him to fight out in the open. No one knew who he was or what he had done. But it didn't matter. They had sullied the streets with the blood of the innocent and the powerless. In his eyes....

He lamented himself, as he'd been sltoppy. The beast was coming. For every drop of blood that Septimus lost, the beast demanded five fold. For all the strength he used ,the beast demanded the energy exerted be paid back in blood. It demanded more. At this point, he could only restrain it so much before his stinger tipped tongue flew out almost without volition and found a body. Blood was greedily gulped from the random body, which he neither knew was living, or dead. Beyond salvation or awaiting a paramedic. The magically empowered musculature was able to drink the female dry in seconds. Wound begin to partially seal, and the aggravated damage caused by his Nth metal wound heals more slowly, to speak less of the blade still lodged within him, impeding his movement. The consequences were later for him to lament. The beast has been subsided for now, and his fury is his an his alone.

....They forced him to feed upon that little girl.

*WUPPA WUPPA WUPPA*

Woken from his idle thoughts, a bright light shines on him. He stands there, a hooded figure wielding a Trench Gun with a bayonet attached...before a Bell AH-1 Super Cobra. Two twenty millimeter gattling cannons cable of tearing men in two and shooting through sheets of steel. He remembered witnessing this weapon when he had been in the Vietnam. This weapon, could kill him. And yet, the pilot had hesitated to fire at the being who's hidden face spoke of nothing, and who's calm body spoke of indifference. The cannons began to whir.

*BANG BANG BANG BANG*

He leans past the first one, threatening to take his arm. And the the rest miss him entirely, finding home in the dirt, as he becomes a black blur.

@_razor_@littlespark:

He spotted the fence up ahead. Ten feet tall, he stopped , jumped and cleared it like an Olympic high jumper, landing with a heavy thud, rolling and then up n' running again. His blue eyes had begun to glow a bright red and as he neared the large sworded red head....

He looked at her, as he ran right past her. Right behind him however, was an incoming trail of 20mm rounds headed right for Septimus and indirectly her. The gunfire only ceasing to chase him as he neared friendlies. "Sniff sniff sniff* "What's that smell?" That sickeningly sweet smell. He pauses to get on all fours, gunfire whizzing by overhead as he stoops down near puddle of crimson. Blood. And not human blood.

He licks it.

"Mutant Blood."

He could feel it. The beast taking hold. The taste of her blood giving enough information for him to instantly locate her across the battlefield. Razor was within sight, and as she charged, she would likely not suspect.

His human side, wrestled for control, and he altered the course of his sprint, his speeds so maddening that dust flew up when he appeared in front of her, breaking and kicking up dust. Her prey had shielded his eyes and when he opened them, he saw one set of razor sharp claws inches away from his face. Freshly coated in the white blood.

Septimus looked at her, his red eyes narrow.

*BANG*

His Trenchgun goes off aimed to her knee caps. *CHK CHK**BANG*Another to the eyes. One threatening to instead of nailing her on the chest, cripple her movement. And the other rob her of his sight.

He'd nothing to say to them.

This is the only language they shall understand. The language that all understand.

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Bottle-Rocket

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Louisville, KY - "Sandy's Tavern"

No Caption Provided

"You know, Fort Knox...is a trap," muttered a yellow-clad patron at the bar, "and you know what they say about traps."

It was nice that they let him smoke. Trent was a super-hero, after all, and that meant people were more willing to adjust their standards for his sake. If the law of gravity didn't apply to him, why should a few paltry rules about smoking? He put his lips to the cigarette, puffing out a small ring. The smell would be burned off of him by the time he hit Fort Knox; that wasn't a huge worry, though. If he was going to end up covered in some super schmucks' blood, who cared if there was a little tobacco left on his breath?

"Good publicity, though. You know how it is, man," he said to the bartender, shrugging. "It's what they're after, too. Bunch 'a psychos, shot up a truck stop. That's like a step above a high school. I mean, me, I'm a showman! I fight super-criminals, not super-villains. Everyone knows the difference. These guys have the look of the former but the bloodlust of the latter, which makes them the FBI's problem, rather than the local super-group's. Breaking unwritten rules, that's what these assholes are doing."

He smiled, shaking his finger.

"Super-criminals are harmless. They make a big show of robbing a bank, might knock out a guard, wave a freeze-ray around, yadda yadda. They get knocked out by a superhero and put in jail for a little while, then a few legal loopholes let 'em free. Most of them are nice guys - down-to-Earth guys you can root for! And most of 'em team up with the heroes when an apocalypse rolls around. Solid, colorful fellas. That's who I fight, in the loosest sense of the word."

Trent set the glass down, hard. Empty.

"'Scuse me. I'm just mad is all. These guys broke the rules, going after civvies. They want to be super-villains. %&$* that. Literal suicide. Fort Knox? I heard it's got Maverick security of some sort these days. Autoturrets and #@$%. Miniguns popping out of the floors, you know. But they're also amateurs. You don't just go from being a super-criminal to a super-villain, because the class of hero you get there...woo. You don't even know, dude."

He lifted the refilled glass to his lips. Just one more.

"I'm talking Black Bat. I'm talking Night Warden. Lightning Lady. Gaige. People with photographic reflexes, martial artists that knock your teeth down your throat one-by-one, hit you with a hammer that can dent mountians, or throw you into a goddamn black hole. Guys that can move at the speed of light. None of us circus acts," he said, stabbing a gloved thumb into his chest-logo. "I mean bona fide metahuman murder machines. These guys are gonna get chewed up."

He put the glass down.

"I'm just here for the exposition. Getting seen, I mean. All part of super-culture. I'm fairly open about that, when it's not going on record. Just routine. Throw some lasers around, maybe do some good, go home and drink off any bruises." He smiled and stood up, leaving an autographed receipt filled out behind. The bartender whistled.

"I see why the call you Bottle-Rocket."

"Safe travels, citizen."

Fort Knox Airspace

Trent Nelson was far from out of the game. Flying through the air in a superheated cone provided some excitement, but it was just a job. Had he squandered his gift of remarkable superhuman abilities? He didn't think so. People - normal people - did more with less. He could admit that. He just never really had the drive to move up into the "big leagues." There was no real tragedy driving him, no fire in his eye; he was just a guy with the natural talent to fly into things real quick, and real hard. He'd landed a sitcom once, then gotten some comics made of him. Now he was "That guy from Bottle-Rocket!" to which he'd usually respond "No, dumbass, I am Bottle-Rocket. That's my super-name."

It was always just a job, yeah, but these guys were serious, so he'd show 'em a little seriousness back. He wasn't dumb enough to engage murderers up-close, either, especially when nobody knew what they couold really do.

Buzzing the area up above, he closed one eye, pointing his index finger at @littlespark before letting loose with a barrage of luminous orbs, each packing enough explosive power to toss her charred body through a brick wall if they connected. He made sure to stay high up in the air, too far away for that sword to hit, or for any handgun to get a bead on him. A lot of damage, and he got to keep his hands clean.

Here's to hoping the big guns show up soon, so I don't have to get in close...

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Preserver

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#18  Edited By Preserver

@_razor_: @littlespark: @voracious:

"Ok. No need to overthink it and no need to worry. Relax."

Whispers of an upcoming assault that had been generated by the most unlikely of heroes had traveled the globe and managed to invade the minds of those near Yin. It was the first time that she had heard a call to arms on this planet, and she wasn't going to sit around doing nothing this time around. Picking up bits and pieces of information from a kind soul here and there, she slowly began to understand the devastation that an attack on this “Fort Knox” could actually cause. And so, in anticipation of the fateful day, she relocated to an area near the base and simply waited for the sirens to blare and for the coming evil to arrive.

It wasn’t until the action started that she realized that she had never before ran headlong into any sort of danger.

Soaring above, hidden by within a stealth field of her maker’s design, she simply watched the first few criminals make their way in whilst working to slow her beating hearts, gather her nerve, and push herself forward into the fray. She worried that, as an inhuman creature with deep green skin, she’d be mistaken as a foe right off the bat. She worried that she’d cause more trouble than harm. She worried that the little experience she had actually using her powers and her complete lack of combat experience would leave her unable to face whatever threat may come. Most of all, she worried that she’d fail again. With one final breath, she pushed forward, reminding herself that this was exactly what she had been born to do.

As she approached the leading villains, she found that she was not the only… unusual specimen that had decided to oppose them. She had seen humans before and, whatever that thing was, it was about as alien as she was. Didn’t really matter so long as it was on her side. With the blade in his hand to match the one held by the redhead offender, Yin decided to go after the human who had sprouted blades from her body… blades that seemed to dwarf those held by the others in terms of sharpness and durability. As she descended and revealed her presence, she would connect her mind with the other whose appearance hinted at a foreign origin.

“Relax. I’m here to stop them as well. If you have any information on them, I’d be happy to hear it.”

She would not even glance in the vampire’s direction as she sent her message to him, and he would know it’s source. Sound without sound. Her words were of no particular language; raw thought that she sought to transmit into the undead creature’s mind that he would hear in whatever language was dominant to him. The Neophyte would descend behind Razor and place a hand on her shoulder to let her know that she was there. She had a few words for the troublesome young woman; words that were now spoken for all to here.

“I think you should stop before you go too far with this.”

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Conquistor

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No Caption Provided

The Earth rattled, as the Alien Destroyer Model walked into the scene. He'd arrived with Preserver before, where they'd stayed hidden until this very moment, He was waiting for her to make the first move. A hulking green behemoth made his presence known, a vile grin spread across his face. "All manner of vile actions in the process will end right now, or by the power and authority vested in me, I will end it personally!" Yang maintained a posture of malice and activated his Destroyer Function.

Yang had somehow forgotten that he was not on his home planet and that the people here wouldn't take kindly to being forced.

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RisingMoon

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@weidmann: @afterthought:

What the -

He had no idea what was going on, what they'd been talking about when he walked in. Heck, he didn't even know where they were going. He looked at the vial he was handed. What could he do? Just stand by and wait? Stare at the vial? Stay here? Nope. No way. He took another glance at the bottle, then did what the others were doing - dropped it. Lady Luck don't fail me now.

Fort Knox - Interior

Lady Luck didn't fail him. He had no idea where he was, but something said that this was the right place. No sign of Whitey or the Boss. Quite a bit of noise outside, but he chuckled. No guards in the middle because they were trying to take care of the chaos around the walls. The others didn't know his lady like he did. Eventually, of course, she got impatient or wanted a little fun. But his luck had been high ever since the end of the last heist, and while he doubted it would last forever, per se, he had a very good feeling about today. The luck charm in the leotard folded his arms and leaned up against the wall, waiting for whoever else was coming in to lead the way.

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Weidmann

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#21  Edited By Weidmann

@afterthought: @_razor_: @risingmoon:

Erhardt raised his hand and shook his head when Shades tried to pass him one of her bottle of phase juice. Whatever Kool-aid she was selling he wasn't buying, he could get in himself. "No need, I can get myself in just fine. Besides," He tapped his nose, "It's a bit more sensitive than your average sniffer, and I don't want any of that gunk jamming it up." He also wasn't quite done recovering from a brutal visit to New Salem, and he didn't want to mess it up anymore then needed.

The Heimstätte offered him a nigh global form of transportation, and while it was by no means instant and wasn't subtle enough to drop him off exactly where he wanted most of the time, in situations like this where stealth was the opposite of what they wanted, he had no qualms in using it. As he waited, Killer walked back to his side, having quite clearly heard Razor's instructions.

So while the rest of the group broke their bottles and vanished he stepped back and pinched his nose, waiting for the scent to disperse before waving his hand over the ocean. Within a few seconds, an aura of cold harsh enough to freeze even the salt water below it appeared and with it a swirling white portal. Launching himself over the railing and hitting the ice with a thud he turned around and stared up as if on cue the young wolf flung himself from the yacht to be caught by Erhardt. Placing his hound on the ice next to him the Weidmann rolled his shoulders before stepping into the portal, ready for what was to come.

Fort Knox

As another portal sprung open at his destination Erhardt and Killer emerged from it looking no worse for wear then with a touch of snow on his armor. Looking around to confirm his location he spotted the pretty boy leaning against the wall. Seemed to be the right place then, though if he had known there was already someone here it might have been better to cover more points. It was too late for that though, he could already hear things going ballistic outside there wasn't time for repositioning.

Raising an eyebrow at his college who appear to just be idling about he started walking towards the hallway. "Really earning your keep aren't ya?" He said, expecting nor desiring any response. Instead, he took the brief period they seemed to have to place a couple presents for whatever guards or meta's came along. Slapping a couple Dragonfire charges to the wall primed to blow when he needed them to. While it wouldn't do much in the way of concussive force, the magical equivalent to napalm would still leave most screaming and out of a fight if even a splash were to get on them. At worst it would dissuade someone from coming down the hall, and best it would ruin the day of anyone who came by.

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Maverick_6

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@conquistor: @weidmann: @risingmoon: @afterthought: @_razor_: @littlespark: @voracious: @bottle-rocket: @preserver:

(Bold) So let me get this straight. You have.."

....Five minutes.
....Five minutes.

Bold flips through his phone, reading everything listed off the Wikipedia page.

(Bold) You have the 3rd Sustainment Command (Expeditionary)19th Engineer Battalion4th Cavalry Brigade, First Army Division East95th Training Division (formerly 95th Infantry Division) 100th Army Band (formerly 100th Infantry Division Band), 113th Band, Ireland Army Community Hospital MEDDAC, 84th Training Command (UR), 70th Training Division (FT), United States Army Recruiting Command, 3rd Recruiting Brigade and U S Army Medical Recruiting Brigade...and they can't stop one group of low level thugs?"

(COEUS) That would appear to be the case. From what I observe, I can see the U.S. Army is converging. Due to the previous forwarning of some unknown party, it seems they will converge in roughly...

There was a brief pause. Bold was still there, he could hear him laughing in the background, pacing as his pitch changed to and fro. Few more seconds and the bellowing got louder as he approached again.

(Bold) Oh this is just too ****ing good. You mean to tell me that these capable men and women can't defend the supposedly most heavily defended location in the world because of bureaucratic inefficiency yet again."

(Moya) It seems like an opportunity.

(Bold) That it is.

(Moya) We can have a batllion down there in fifteen minutes. And then after that we can-

(Bold) No.

(Moya) ...What do you mean no?
(Moya) ...What do you mean no?

(Bold) The hell is a few bars of gold to me or to the world? Not much. It'll mean something alright. But at the end of the day, who can we say failed today? You and me. No no. I don't want that. I'm not obligated to defend anywhere.

(Moya) So why not?

(Bold) Why? Do you know what it'll mean if the army and a bunch of vigilantes gets bafoozled by a band of military gets band of petty thugs and terrorists? It'll mean that this battle is the place that we get to prove what "Heroes" get done once and for all. What the Army gets done.

(Moya) We're sitting this out to showcase everyone's incompetence?

(Bold) Exactly. After they get robbed, who'll they go to? God Forbid they steal of it somehow the gold to anyone, because anyone who buys it is as good. No Grimm for you to sell this shit in. Who has to hunt them down?

(Moya) I see what you are playing at. Keep in mind however that it is a very real possibility that they will win. Indeed, it looks like that.

(COEUS) Correct. The assessment of their powers is incomplete. For now.

The battlefield is put onto display and Bold feels like popping a bag of popcorn. If the army and the heroes Fail? Maverick wins. This skirmish can very well serve to convince the world of who can really protect them. If the combined forces couldn't defend the world's most secure location, then what does that say for the state of the world?

(Bold) Care to take a bet, Ms. Hawkins?
(Bold) Care to take a bet, Ms. Hawkins?

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Hound_of_War

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#23  Edited By Hound_of_War
A mile outside Fort Knox.
[God's Gonna Cut You Down]

No Caption Provided

The engine could be heard for miles, cracking across the sky like thunder. The earth and sky fled from his presence, but they found no place to hide.

Fort Knox. The place holds about 147.3 million ounces of gold. Today an ounce of gold goes for 1,322.10. In total, the place holds 194,966,100,000 billion dollars in gold.

The Federal Bureau rang me first, then Homeland, and then the White House. I was already on my way when they called. They told me they had already notified the guards and everyone in the facility.

The walls are 4 foot thick granite, lined with cement and steel. They say it could withstand a direct hit from an atom bomb. The front door weighs about twenty two tons. Blast proof. The staff dials separate combinations to get in. The combination are changed daily. Windows are tinted, fireproof, and bulletproof. Every corner of the depository has multi-focus surveillance systems. Every square inch of the place is under surveillance and being recorded at all times.

Machines gun fired at the hood of his car. Rounds bounced off. It continued for a few seconds and then it stopped. Adrenaline scrambles the brains. Understandable, The Black Bat would have shot at himself too if he saw the car coming at full speed. They opened the gates for him, the wheels marked the pavement below them almost tearing the concrete apart. He rushed at the immense doors, it seemed like he was going to crash through. They weren’t sure if they should point their machine guns at him again, but he hit the brakes moments before hitting the door.

The ceiling along the windows slid back, letting out steam from the sides as they opened. He placed his hand against the car and jumped out. Before entering the depository, he looked at the fight happening in the lawn. The Black Bat took a snapshot of their faces and ran it against his database in the background. Then, he simply walked in.

They’re were a tactical distraction.

The door wasn’t tore down, which means they don’t have a brick in their team. Teleporter? It still doesn’t explain how they didn’t end up in the middle of wall. Intangibility then.

He pressed his index finger against his ear.

"Shut up and go to the computer."

“Goodneighbor. This the Black Bat. Are you there?” The Black Bat paused.

“Shut up and go to the computer.”

Alarms were blaring loudly, he couldn’t hear himself think. They flashed bright red light across his face. The depository’s map appeared in a hologram coming off the built in computer in his arm. He needed to find the camera systems. As the Black Bat walked through the halls, the personnel made path for him like the red sea. They loaded their weapons and readied to send straight to hell whoever dared place their hand on the gold. He stopped. They all stared. “I’m going to need two of you with clearance for the security room to come with me.” Two soldiers stepped away from the wall in the endless sea. They followed him.

“Do they know you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell them we’re not hostiles.”

“Sir?”

“Someone just broke into the Fort Knox depository. They’ll shoot us if we enter unnanouced.”

They inserted their pass keys and pressed a few numbers. “It's us. Stand down.”

The moment the door opened, the Black Bat moved straight to their computer like no one else was there.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to borrow your eyes.”

He created a private domain connected to the cameras. Remotely, he accessed the computer back in HQ and connected to that same domain.

He pressed his index finger against his earpiece again. “You should be able to see every single camera here. Keep me posted on any developments.”

Before stepping out, he paused and slightly tuned his head to the left.“Keep the door shut and shoot anyone that tries to come in.”

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t answer.

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RisingMoon

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#24  Edited By RisingMoon

@weidmann:@afterthought: @hound_of_war:

Mallory grinned at the bearded guy as he made an entrance in a flurry of snow, but didn't move to help the monster hunter in any way. The man knew his work, and so did Doyle. He watched as he lined the halls with traps and such. Nothing he had any experience with, and honestly, the exact kinds of things that would backfire on him if he tried to help. The handsome luck charm instead kept an ear out for trouble and/or the boss lady, while continuing to observe the hunter in his trapsetting.

"Well, Weeds - can I call you that? Don't think anybody asked if you've got a shorthand for that name of yours - anyway, like I said at the first meeting: I'm a magnet for luck. So at the moment, I'm trying to figure out which kind of luck is coming around. Gut says good though. Other thing is there isn't much for me to do 'til either boss lady or company of a worse sort gets here, since I'm a bit of muscle, too."

He didn't look like much, of course. He was moderately fit, not superpowered or anything. Just another kid who happened to be a criminal. He'd been considering villainy, of course. It seemed like the only path when he started with this crew of misfits. But now, he realized, he didn't have the patience for it. He needed the money, sure, but he didn't care enough to be called a "villain". Once this job was done he'd probably consider going back to some major city and get tied up in crime there. He didn't want or need the attention from this. Let the others get all the glory. He had Lady Luck, and he had Fortuna back at home waiting for him. Really, he didn't need anything else, except funds, which he could easily get from this... if he survived.

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Hound_of_War

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“Where?”

“Got it.”

Facial Match Found.

“Run facial recognition against the other team members. Narrow the search down to known associates.”

“Already?”

I needed to be sure.

No Caption Provided

The entire building was built like a jigsaw puzzle. Hallways diverted different ways. One wrong turn and you could end up facing a wall of bulletproof glass or a dead end. His priority was securing the gold. Donn had also installed something different that he hadn’t told them about. The intercoms inside and outside the facility were all under his control now.

He knew where the vault was. He ran, moving from door to hallway. His cape flowing as he rapidly took all the right turns. He looked at the cameras and mouthed “Let me in” They spoke through the intercom. They hesitated, he knew they were arguing among themselves whether they should trust him. He waited, staring into the camera.

“Deicidium. Are you in position?”

"Yes, sir. Awaiting my orders."

“Good. Engage when you’re ready.”

"Copy that... With all due respect sir, do you require any backup? I see only two targets outside."

"It's quicker this way."

"Roger that. I'll clear the outside, once I'm free I'll be heading inside."

"Notify me when it's done. Black Bat over and out."

"Will do, sir. Deicidium over and out."

Then, the vault opened wide for him.

El Dorado of Scores. Most criminals could only dream of seeing so much gold. He walked up to one of the bars and inspected it. They had serial numbers over them. He meticulously placed his fingers over one on each stack. If they stole them, he would now have a way to track them.

Yet, that wasn’t enough for him. It never was. Donn fired his grapple gun towards the ceiling, lifting him up slowly. He placed the gun in his belt, magnetically sealing them together. . Now, with his hands freed he took out five round objects with red timers on them. He switched off the timers and placed them over the facility’s ceiling. The explosive’s light turned from red to green.

They said “Ready” in yellow letters.

Stealing this gold raises a few questions.

  1. Who would purchase it from them? The team members would have to sit on the gold for years before the manhunt slowed down. Unless they had a buyer prior to the job.
  2. How do they plan to escape? Do they think they can teleport themselves and that will work twice?
  3. How will they carry it in said escape? They would need to first teleport a truck in and teleport it out. They don’t appear to have any strength-based superpowers on their side to carry it for them.

Donn lowered himself again. He cleared his throat and then connected to every single speaker in the facility.

“This is the Black Bat speaking. I know who you all are. Weidman. Razor. Afterthought. Omen. I know what you can do. I know your real names. I know your powers. I won’t ask you to surrender. I know you won’t. I won’t offer any deals. I know you won’t take them. The only way any of you are leaving here is in a body bag or handcuffed to an ambulance.”

The vault closed behind him and he moved again.

He was going to make sure to make good on his promise.

No Caption Provided

First target. Weidman. Collected. Calculated. Priority. Semi-Mystic. The camera feed shows he set traps against the wall. Combat sensitive, strategic, but his equipment put him at a disadvantage against technologically advanced fighters. Longsword looks heavy, he’ll reach for the blades by his side. I’m more interested in his pouches. It had to be an artifact, a charm, or relic that brought them here. Swords indicate lack of magical instruments such as a staff or a wand.

Second target. Doyle. Young. Inexperienced. Energetic. Probability Manipulator. Some form of combat expertise. Use of escrima sticks shows a reliance on weaponry to make up for physiological weakness. Gadget based attacks have a higher chance of failing. Reduce distance. Engage in hand to hand combat.

First. Scramble target one’s visual motor skills via laser.

Timing is critical. Missing a beat. Fatal.

Second. Drop smoke pellets.

Third. Attack target two brutally. The significant cause of agony would prove if probability manipulation abilities are passive or conscious.

Fourth, target one’s brain should have already computed the situation. Expecting a follow up attack. Incinerate pouches. Prepare counter attack.

The traps meant he couldn't walk in through the hallways. So he entered through the ceiling instead. He had activated his suit's invisibility capabilities. Light bent around him and he absorbed sound waves to remain completely silent.

From above them, the Black Bat fired an infrared laser into Weidman’s left eye. He aimed to blind him, to cause excruciating pain, but above all else to distract him. As he swooped down, he threw two smoke pellets in the ground. Smoke engulfed the air, making it hard for them to breathe, to see, to process what was happening. As his cape landed on the ground, the smoke parted in different ways.

The Black Bat quickly chambered his hand into his orthodox fighting position. Extending his left hand forward in the form of a fist, he lightly took a step forward and moved his hip to maximize the strength and distance of the jab aiming for Doyle unbroken nose. He exhaled as his fist went back into his its chamber. At that force, he calculated it would be enough to be crack it into at least three different pieces and learn the extent of his powers.

Donn clenched his finger over his metallic utility belt pouch, he pulled out a grey cylinder. Plain, unattractive. About the size of a pen cap with a similar shape. With the press of a button, the top drew back, and a blinking flame formed. He threw it at Weidman’s brown pouches. Whatever he had in his bags, whatever magic had gotten him in there wouldn’t be getting him out again.

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Deicidium

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@voracious: @conquistor: @preserver: @littlespark: @_razor_: @risingmoon@afterthought@weidmann@hound_of_war

Espionage doesn't require over-the-top gear or extremely good-looking features, it is but a simple question of misdirection while you collect data. Indeed, sometimes one must risk their lives in order to gather intel, yet other times it merely requires patience and acting skills good enough to camouflage your true intentions and your true allegiance. A drunk, trigger-happy military unhappy with the services of his country, looking for some extra coin as well as some extra kills to fulfill his bloodthirsty needs. Tihomir had purposefully led them to believe he was yet another mutt kicked aside by society, a man who would do whatever it took for daily doses of adrenaline.

Misdirection.

They failed to question why would he rather stay away from all sorts of combat, why he retreated earlier than expected, how a man with ties to the army risked his reputation for nothing more than the idea of pocketing a few extra bucks. He did a good job, and as a reward he now laid a couple miles away from the entrance of Fort Knox. A few acquaintances of his witnessed through the crosshairs of his scope. A particularly singular figure catches his attention, one who maimed many of his friends back in the day, one he wouldn't have any qualms with putting her six feet under.

In all honesty, he wouldn't bother seeing any of those heads blow up had they failed to comply Black Bat's usual requests of surrender.

He had been assigned under that mysterious man ever since word of a new criminal team being formed scattered within the wind. They weren't very professional about it, caring mostly about the message and the flashiness rather than effectiveness. In his eyes, they were easy prey ever since day one, he had quite some time to study and prepare, pass information to his superiors and await for his mission. Thorny Tiho, most of the higher-ups acknowledged his desires didn't lay on money or any other material prizes. In exchange for risking his life as any good soldier should, all he asked was to be a part of the final showdown. Not for the sake of avenging fallen brothers, not for the sake of justice or even this country he stood at.

He wanted to see their blood spill, that was all.

Nothing personal.

Maybe a little.

His comms lit up, he held his position until more orders came his way. The Black Bat still hadn't made contact, it gave him enough time to check his rifle twice for any tweaks or problems it might've had. He hummed a few songs, emptied the magazine and re-ordered the bullets, envisioned Razor's face as she realized what kind of equipment he was using. Minutes went by. Finally contact.

“Deicidium. Are you in position?”

"Yes, sir. Awaiting my orders."

“Good. Engage when you’re ready.”

"Copy that... With all due respect sir, do you require any backup? I see only two targets outside."

"It's quicker this way."

"Roger that. I'll clear the outside, once I'm free I'll be heading inside."

"Notify me when it's done. Black Bat over and out."

"Will do, sir. Deicidium over and out."

He sighed, finally it was time for action. "Hope he doesn't get himself killed." Tiho mused to himself, having someone who could grant him these sorts of quests was something he could use more often. The tiny girl with a humongous blade and the regenerating terrorist, those were the only targets outside, surrounded by plenty of figures that would keep them busy until he shot both down. Chuckling, Deicidium activated the sound mufflers he had asked for prior to the mission. If the siren's voice ever escaped like it did on their primary target, it shouldn't affect him here. A motion sensor to keep track of movement around him was displayed on the helmet's HUD.

He had better toys to play now.

Razor was the first on his line of sight, a smirk crossing his visage as he held his breath. Click. A single bullet travels its way, aiming for her abdomen, an odd place for the first shot, except it was the flawless spot to lodge the projectile he had just fired. One round composed of Carbonadium, specifically handed to him in case he had to handle Razor's uncanny healing capabilities. Once upon impact, it would scatter in multiple pieces, preventing the possibility of the effects halting simply by removing the bullet.

He inhaled.

Click.

Another round, seconds after the first one had been fired, whizzing through the air in an attempt to hit her chest. If they had wondered where the sniper had disappeared to, there he was, simpering from a distance as he gunned down whoever dared to aid them. His sight now promptly changed, by now they would be wary of a sharpshooter, two bullets in such a short span, the third one would take a while to be fired. If they spotted him, they would most likely run for cover and use these other heroic presences to shield them from further bullets.

In record time, Deicidium would adroitly raise his rifle and turn on a tiny lantern he had placed by his side, its light would then reflect on a mirror the size of a scope to create the illusion of a sniper being present within that direction, while, truthfully, he moved to another location where the very same setup had been prepared beforehand. His next target was the sword-loving youngster who would never utter a word.

At least that much she already had in common with corpses.

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RisingMoon

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#27  Edited By RisingMoon

@hound_of_war:

Everything was going fine, until he opened his fluffing mouth.

“This is the Black Bat speaking. I know who you all are. Weidman. Razor. Afterthought. Omen. I know what you can do. I know your real names. I know your powers. I won’t ask you to surrender. I know you won’t. I won’t offer any deals. I know you won’t take them. The only way any of you are leaving here is in a body bag or handcuffed to an ambulance.”

Crap.

Wait.

The who now?

"The Black Bat?" He asked aloud, then let his gaze turn towards Weidmann, normally lax expression now suspicious as he began to realize just how much trouble they were in. "Where the hell -"

He didn't bother finishing. He didn't have a chance. His hands were on his escrima sticks before the smoke pellets dropped, and he raised an arm to cover his face from the smoke, holding his breath as long as he could and expanding the weapon in his other hand. His eyes were watering; he could barely see. He heard something - movement maybe - and turned towards it.... just in time to take a fist to the elbow.

It was probably aimed for his nose, but with his arm up and his change of position, the strike hit the bent arm instead. His first reaction was the spin and strike wildly with the staff in the other hand towards his aggressor, while backing in the other direction and struggling to see or breathe in the heavy smoke. He was trying to get out of the way as his injured arm fell to his side. It hurt like a bear, but he didn't know whether it was broken or not; just that he had to ignore the pain long enough to get away from the problem. He spun his staff in his working arm and struggled to peer through the fog, but it was with a coughing chuckle that he realized something. If he hadn't had his arm there, he'd have a broken nose. So while his arm was disabled, his pretty face was still intact.

Guess Lady Luck prefers her boys handsome. Even if it means they're a little slower on the job.

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_Razor_

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@preserver: @conquistor: @hound_of_war: @deicidium: @voracious:

A familiar opposition is running in toward her someone from the truck raid before. They hadn't fought eachother and information on him wasn't enough. Didn't matter nor to her did the heroic car riding in under a veil of gunfire her life didn't mean to much just be the cover help get some faces public media would like on the scene. Just draw out the defenses into the field to fall under attack. A hand falls on her shoulder a hero on the scene already just as the creature of night comes in with a gun at the ready.

Amongst the slaughter, a trail of blood hers and soldiers she'd closed in on she'd been slowly expanding her marrow within her body. A light carapace beneath the skin, bruising and some internal bleeding would have been visible if not for her healing factor working to cover such a trail. Exposed abs of course were also already slick with blood though, made it hard to tell what wounds and blood was fresh or a bit older, harder to tell who it belonged to. This tactic of hers tightened the chest a bit and do to its segments could only help so much but she felt it ideal to keep in the fight in what was coming. Such as now as things started to pile on.

The gun goes off along with the warning “I think you should stop before you go too far with this.” Muscle tissue tears, blood runs down her calfs, mixed with previous gunfire and she can start to feel the stickiness of it all. Blood making ones socks stick to the skin and ripped apart fabric cling on a bit of a squish between socks and boots. It's all disgustingly familiar, the gunshot makes it briefly hard to stand let it happen, hands on the shoulder lash out. Was to late to stop any of this her warpath was set.

Rivaling the fastest punch recorded a spike burst from Razor's shoulder the blade sharp as her tallons and marrow as durable as them throughout her body it looked to rip through the hand. Make using it against her difficult, but more importantly try and help keep the foe in position as wounded knees gave out. Looking to try and pin instead the jade woman in the way of the vampire's gun fire. It'd take apart of her scalp and hair with it, a clump of hair dyed red and a hint of metal skull visible beneath the gore. A glancing shot hopefully leading to a headshot for someone else.

"All manner of vile actions in the process will end right now, or by the power and authority vested in me, I will end it personally!" More words as if nice quotes would change the winds of war. It'd take more then that the killer thought. “This is the Black Bat speaking. I know who you all are. Weidman. Razor. Afterthought. Omen. I know what you can do. I know your real names. I know your powers. I won’t ask you to surrender. I know you won’t. I won’t offer any deals. I know you won’t take them. The only way any of you are leaving here is in a body bag or handcuffed to an ambulance.” And more words, of course they knew who Razor was. That was the point, be on the front line an ideal target to try and gang up on. She wondered though if they had their way how would they do it. Neither hospitals or body bags or hand cuffs had a good track record with her. All the same she didn't focus to much on that just the violence, or hold that thought one more wanted to get a shot in well two.

They find their home, dig into her skin, a good eye might see they aren't being pushed out like other bullets had been. Even some of the previous bullets seem to be a bit slower in their crawl from her ravaged flesh. A quick one two and a flench and her body is marked by fresh blood. So there he was the sniper who was a no show for the last meeting, the marksman who'd ducked out of the truck heist. A rat, with a good shot, and who'd gotten a hand on cancerous munitions. She wondered if under that scope he managed to see the brief smile from the living weapon. He'd played by his own rules, tried to change things. Maybe through him this whole mission would go to shit, that he was the one who'd gotten in bed with a bat to make a change. She could respect that, but cancerous as the ammo was it went only skin deep. Good shot, was dead on but something she could ready for.

Now to retaliate, was a marvel how much happened moment from moment in the heat of battle. It was something Rayne knew all to well.

No Caption Provided

Start to drop from busted legs, reflexively retract claws. Go with the backward momentum of the shot her mangled leg trying to carry a talon through the ankle of the jade beauty. Leave her on one leg and roll with the shots taken to the chest, it stings things are healing slower need to see to that soon before it effects performance. Roll along the ground kip up and send a fast ball toward the vampire. Well not exactly, it was rather four knife throws, relaxed in release but set free with a good amount of speed. Each talon cycling through the air with a speed of just under thirty eight miles per hour. The sharp claws looking to burrow into the creatures chest before the living weapon would launch into a final sudden attack.

Seeking to quickly leap to close the gap between her and the large foe. To get enough hight to swing a blade toward his rather gargantuan throat. Razor would upon landing, soon probably find herself under fire once again from soldiers, all before whatever was left of the opposition moved in on her. Her focus though would be to try and take a chunk out of her own flesh. Cut out enough to expose a bit of metal enough to rival adamantine but more importantly try and cut out the cancerous fragments of carbonadium that was ruining her ability to recover from all the hell she was being put through and likely could expect more of.

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Weidmann

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#29  Edited By Weidmann

@hound_of_war: @risingmoon:

Erhardt sighed, sticking another pack to the wall before turning back the Doyle. He kept one eye down the hall while he responded to the pretty boy.

"Honestly I rather you wouldn't, I don't know where the hell people get weed from in the first place. It's really pronounced closer to Veidmann then Weedmann, so if you're intent on butchering it at least make me sound like less of a pothead."

As for his talk about luck and how he had a gut feeling things would go well Erhardt didn't put much stock in it. You could never really get rid of the element of luck, but he'd hate to be completely beholden to it. He'd take his share of bad luck, just as long as he was confident in his own ability to get out of it alive. He wasn't sure if what Doyle said was an gift or if he just thought he had luck on his side. Though he doubted it matter much, people could do a lot when they thought the universe was on their side. As long as he got the job done, the pale hunter didn't care how.

As if on queue the speakers all throughout the halls burst to life, giving what seemed to be a last chance to all those who where in the building. From the sounds of it it wasn't security either, guess the heroes had arrived. While his partner paid attention to what the man was saying however, Erhardt tilted his face up slightly. As even with the light altering tech of the man soon to drop from above them, it couldn't stop a Weidmann from finding the scent even amongst everything else.

As such he wasn't completely off guard when his eye seemed to erupt with pain, however that didn't change his reactions as he howled in pain bending over as his eye snapped close. Tears steamed down his cheek from his left eye, his burnt retina stinging from the intense burst of light fired into it. His pain suppression kicked in moments later, as adrenaline played it's part causing his eyes to flicker open again. However even as his left eyelid raised, nothing seemed to change in the quality of his vision it wasn't even a warped view of the world through the tears in his eyes. His vision simply remained darkened and complete barren of light. However with no time to dwell on it he simply closed his eyelid once more, hoping his vision would return as he refocused on the threat in front of him. Just as the rush of smoke filled the room, clogging his sense of smell. Coughing he turned away, waving his hands in front of his face in vain.

As it became readily apparent that he couldn't see nor smell in the smoke he needed to do something quick, heard a thump as something hit where Doyle had been standing before the smoke went off. Their attacker wasn't wasting time, so they couldn't drop a beat in response. As a bright light erupted from his pouch he was momentarily confused one what was occurring, before the preexisting smoke was mingling with the smell of leather burning alerted him to the burning of his bag.

His mind racing he quickly removed it as the fire made its way into contact with the contents of the bag. The Black Bat had been mistaken in thinking the key to Erhardt's mobility was in his bag, as all that rested in it was multiple packs of dragon fire and a few left over bombs he had used to bring down Nabuu's beast in Africa. All of them about to ignite. While he wouldn't beat himself up if it ended up roasting his collage, he also didn't want to scrape the kid off the walls. So at the risk of alerting their attacker he threw the bag into the center of the room, putting everyone currently in the room well within the kill zone of the oncoming blast.

With what time he had left before it went off he yelled, "GET DOWN!" Before diving on to the wolf pup and muttering a word of protection "Schutz" as a yellow aura surrounded the two of them just in time.

What followed was the fire making contact with the explosives nestled in the bag and with a cataclysmic boom they all launched a wave of concussive force though the room. That was to speak nothing of the intense amount of shrapnel, as even one bomb detonated what one might have thought would be a safe distance had left a naga bleeding out on the ground from just the shards alone. All this combined with the leftover dragon fire, causing the explosives not just to be destructive, but also flinging a sticky liquid fire all thought the room. A fire that was notoriously had to get rid of and treated damn near everything as fuel. Whether anyone in the room had survived it was the last thing on Erhardt's mind as he struggled to bear the pain of the hear, even though his shield and dragon-skin armor.

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LittleSpark

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@preserver: @conquistor: @hound_of_war: @deicidium: @voracious: @_razor_: @afterthought: @weidmann: @risingmoon:

Like any event, doesn't take more than a few minutes before everything starts to go wrong. Ain't much of a surprise that we've attracted some attention. Just means we're doing our jobs. First sign of opposition's a bit more familiar than I'd like. The corpse-raiser from the truck stop decides to make an entrance. Gotta say he gets there pretty quick. Almost makes me wonder if he missed us. He doesn't seem to pay us much attention, but that's all right. My girl's not much in the mood for dancing today. He pauses just long enough to take a little lick of the blood on the floor. Part of a nutritious breakfast. It doesn't seem to be on his approved diet. One little taste and he goes off like a madman, heading off towards our Scarlett. Looks like he wants a bit more of where that came from.

No Caption Provided

I'd move to help out, but that's when we get another flyboy buzzing through the airspace. Guess that one's my problem. He gives us the finger, and drops his balls. Not really something I'm interested in, so it's probably a good idea to get my girl out of the way. I give her a surge, move her quick, and let the orbs fall in the gap in the fence. Still not sure when our leader's gonna make an entrance, but the way those things pop, the hole in the fence is gonna be big enough to drive a couple tanks through. I'm not saying she's got a tank, but I wouldn't put it past her. She managed to get a boat somehow.

I'd sure like to do something about the man up in the sky, but I'm not really equipped for surface-to-air combat. Guess we'll just have to take him as an occupational hazard for now, hope someone else can deal with him. Once the air clears I take another look around, and pretty Scarlett's got another pair of fans. Don't get me wrong, I've got confidence in her abilities, but at this rate she's gonna fall to pieces and I forgot to bring a bucket.

That's when the speakers go live.

“This is the Black Bat speaking. I know who you all are. Weidman. Razor. Afterthought. Omen. I know what you can do. I know your real names. I know your powers. I won’t ask you to surrender. I know you won’t. I won’t offer any deals. I know you won’t take them. The only way any of you are leaving here is in a body bag or handcuffed to an ambulance.”

Who the hell is the Black Bat? Can't say he's someone I've heard of. Must not have been doing much lately. Just another one of those guys who doesn't know the difference between ego and achievement. He don't seem to know who I am, either. That's fine. Most people don't. Just goes to prove the point that he doesn't know as much as he thinks he does. Typical, really.

Gunshot echoes through the field. High calibre, sniper. Gives Scarlett a bit of a stumble. She's definitely in some trouble now. She's not my girl, but I'll admit I'm kind of partial to her. Time to move up there. I grab my girl and put some speed on, move up to the other lady and take up a guard beside her. I expect she's got the close range covered, so I'll do what I can to keep the distance attacks off her. I can stop bullets if I need to. Give her a chance to focus. Wait until we catch her attention, one of those rare moments, and raise my girl's hand. Little gesture, encompassing the both of us, with an indication towards the exit. Funny how it's easier for me to make sense than it ever was for her.

Don't know if she'll go for it, but I'm personally feeling it's time to pull out. The goal of this excursion was to get money and attention. I think we've accomplished the latter... and I don't need much in the way of cash anyway. We'd need a lot more support than we have to make a clean sweep of it. I'm for getting out in as few pieces as possible, and to hell with what the Charcoal Chiroptera has to say about it. I'd like to get Scarlett out with us if I can, but if not we'll pull ourselves and leave the rest of 'em to it.

Staying to the bitter end is for heroes and idiots. I ain't either.

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Bottle-Rocket

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@littlespark: @hound_of_war

"Crap," Trent muttered, his orbs way off-target. Or had she used some sort of speed burst to get out of there? Sometimes it was impossible to see what was going on so far beneath him when he was flying at the height he was. For his own safety, he had to sacrifice a degree of accuracy. But this was Fort Knox! There'd be military closing in any second from now to clean up. Or, even better -

“This is the Black Bat speaking. I know who you all are. Weidman. Razor. Afterthought. Omen. I know what you can do. I know your real names. I know your powers. I won’t ask you to surrender. I know you won’t. I won’t offer any deals. I know you won’t take them. The only way any of you are leaving here is in a body bag or handcuffed to an ambulance.”

"Oh, sick!" Trent said with a laugh, speaking to no-one but himself. Popular conjecture seemed to be that this Black Bat, if he were even real, was a legacy hero, the mantle passed down sometime in the 1980s. After all, he'd be over a hundred years old at least, given the time he introduced himself. Regardless, the name had always been synonymous with terrifying competence. Amateur hour was over.

Bottle-Rocket's work was all but done. Keeping his distance, he elected to continue to take part in the festivities, clasping his hands together in a "gun" shape. The tips of his index fingers began to glow as he funneled his propulsive field towards the girl he'd attacked before. This time, he shot a thin sustained beam towards Spark, one that burnt up the pavement as it tracked after her. He might not be able to hit her while she were moving, but if she started to stand still, the beam would catch up, and it'd hurt, to say the least.

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Preserver

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@littlespark: @conquistor: @hound_of_war: @deicidium: @voracious: @_razor_: @afterthought: @weidmann: @risingmoon:

Welcome to the World of Heroes, Yin.

In a world like this, many of the people on this battlefield would've considered her a spoiled brat. Her body was naturally capable of physical feats much greater than the average human and her mind fast enough to match even the quickest of speedsters. She carried a wide assortment of abilities designed for the sole purpose of saving lives, even the gift of restoring healing wounds and restoring health through her very touch. But, like all those with natural talent who never put it to use, it is wasted in the hands of one without experience. This battlefield was the first battlefield that the green H.B.B. had ever seen firsthand.

Razor’s spike tears right through Yin’s hand and is effortlessly thrown into the path of Septimus’ gunfire. She cries out in pain and opens her eyes to the storm of bullets a mere millisecond away from impact. She raises a force-field instinctively, protecting not only herself but, inadvertently, the criminal at which they were directed.

Her heart is racing.

Her body shifts to an intangible state and she phases through Razor’s metallic bone; backing away and falling to her knees as she looks down at the gaping hole in her hand that rapidly heals to a close. She looks up at the woman only to see chunks of flesh blown out of her by a sniper off in the distance. Blood spurts into the sky and some of it falls onto her face. She’s too shaken to wipe it off. Her eyes began to survey the area.

“This is the Black Bat speaking. I know who you all are. Weidman. Razor. Afterthought. Omen. I know what you can do. I know your real names. I know your powers. I won’t ask you to surrender. I know you won’t. I won’t offer any deals. I know you won’t take them. The only way any of you are leaving here is in a body bag or handcuffed to an ambulance.”

Bullets and blood fill the sky. Bombs and beams of destructive energy rain down from above. Swords clashing fill the area with a chilling cacophony. Soldiers scurry about the area in an attempt to handle the chaos. She sees it all in slow motion; fighting all around and no idea how to advance. She is frozen like a deer in headlights. War looked oh-so-different when you were sitting right in the middle of it and not watching from afar.

Welcome to the World of Heroes.

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Hound_of_War

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The Black Bat looked for an opening to strike down Omen. The smoke bombs had played their part. He was about to end it, when his mask was met by a wild escrima stick. The swing was random, erratic, a predictable reaction to being placed under pressure. Yet, he didn’t see it coming. It struck across his mouth, splitting his lip in half. He fell on his back. The Black Bat pressed his fingers over his lip and saw blood coming from it. His eyes widened almost in disbelief.

Lucky hit.

No Caption Provided

He started to wonder which one of the two he needed to take out first. Still in the ground, he turned his head ready to counter Weidman’s next attack. In this position, he was vulnerable. A strategic combatant like Weidman would attempt to exploit that. Instead, he noticed he was more focused on his pouches. He threw them towards the center of the room. At that moment, the Black Bat knew what that he didn’t keep his transportation means there. He quickly reached into his belt and fired off the grapple gun into the nearest wall. The grapple lifted him off the ground, but it was too late. The explosion erupted, sending him smashing towards the nearest wall. His massive body cracked it upon impact, pieces of concrete falling on top of him as he hit the ground.

The Black Bat used his elbow to lift himself up to one knee. He needed to recollect, he had exactly three seconds to spare.

I miscalculated. I should have put some more distance between us.

“Computer. Damage report.” He whispered.

Damage Report: Suit at 89.27% functionality. Damage absorbed in the back. Cape slightly torn from shrapnel. Shrapnel detected in between armor plating.

Target two’s control of his abilities is subconscious. He would have never landed that hit on me if they weren’t. Which brings me to the next question...are they mystical or physiological? I’ll have to keep investigating.

Target one sensed me when I entered. He couldn’t have seen or heard me. Therefore, he had to have smelled me. Metahumans with one enhanced sense tend to have one or more to accompany it. Sight hindered him, but it would have stopped him from removing the pouches from himself if it was that sensitive. That leaves his hearing.

Their proximity to each other puts them at a disadvantage. Target one should have focused on himself instead of target two. Target two had 70% rate of survival based on his probability manipulation abilities. Being on the ground, their ability to evade a follow up attacks becomes minimal. He should have taken attacked me when I was in that position a few second ago.

He lifted his palm up and aimed at his two opponents laying in the ground. Then, he released a sound waves aimed at the duo. His cowl instantly sealed every sound around him. The constant waves he fired at the duo were at 180 decibels. At 150 decibels, eardrums began to pop like bitcoin bubbles. 180 was just to ensure that it worked. The “superhero curve”, he called it, which simply meant assuming that most powered individuals were more resistant to attacks that would otherwise obliterate normal human beings. He would continue to fire the waves until they were unconscious.

Donn thought about making a smug remark, but odds were that they wouldn't be able to hear it from their ruptured eardrums.

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afterthought

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It's funny how people assume things, how easy it is to allow them to do so as well. You name yourself Afterthought and they assume you don't plan or that your plans are half baked...you do nothing to correct them. Afterthought mused on this in the strange moments between reality blinks. She appeared in a confusing haze of oke and the shouts of combat and quietly pushed past it to the vault door. She knew precisely where everyone would be, she had personally mixed their phase concotions.

Most of.the fighting would be taking place outside, indeed that had been the plan. For Knox was defended quite strongly against outside influence and heroes aswell as military figures would have responded within moments. It seemed also the base was alerted to their arrival in advance. That amused her.

Afterthought carefully removed a coiled snake from her belt and let it go, it slithered, all cogs and steam, up the door and into the highly advanced locking mechanism where it would take all of thirty seconds to disarm the electronic lock. She turned her attention away from that as some idiot started blaring sound waves at two of her people. Not being the primary target she had time to draw protective covers over her ears that would dampen the sound and then pulled two lenses from her goggles into place, one that helped clear the smoke and her blue+shift meta lens. Clearing the smoke allowed her to see the so called hero. She registered him immediately and remembered the half echoes of his announcement she'd heard while phasing in. Another one of those.

"How many perfectly normal people are you going to kill today bat-man?" She asked with a grin. "Manipulate your little pawns, feed them into the grinder and let them die, so long as you get your moment to shine, your moment of glory to wrap yourself in the heroe's flag? Nevermind that military men and women will be arriving at doors tomorrow to inform wives, husband's and children their moms, dad's and spouses won't be coming home...your pathetic failure with Grimm City in microcosm. Did you ever stop to ask yourself what it costs others for you to be a hero, off on your caped crusades?

You heroes are all the same, you fight, villains, each other over stupid philosophical differences, doesn't matter, you just fight. You take the glory and the fame, Pat yourself on the back and you go home...before the bodies are even cold. You don't even notice, I don't think. Even the so called no kill types leave bodies, broken corpses caught in your powers struggles. You don't even notice their deaths. What you leave behind is just...an after thought. Here you are again, making more of them. How many fewer would die if you just stayed home? Outside more of your kind are fighting, getting others killed. Stop being so pathetic."

Her voice was amplified above the sound of his noise gun and voxed through the base's own already hacked audio system as well as (more quietly) into the ears of her companions via small radio trancievers.

She trusted her teammates, not to be trust worthy, but to do their jobs. Almost all the attention was going to the fight outside, jus as sh had planned and the rest? Misguidedly trying to stop her from getting to the gold. Well that wasn't misguided, it was the reason they guarded it that was misguided. Then again, most people didn't understand it's true value. Just now those team members, particularly the two in the room with her, needed to buy a little more time. Just in case they didn't, she drew an over engineered steampunk revolver from it's holster and drew tthe hammer back. Her other hand slid a vial from it's spot on her belt and let it shatter on the floor, filling the whole room with the scent of burning hair.

By now she assumed Spark had done her thing, Razor was causing a big bloody mess and her sharp shooter was providing cover fire. In here, they had two operatives plus herself dealing with one man and precious precious little time before the others would retreat and they would have to as well. She counted in her mind to the seconds before she'd hear the vault door unlock

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RisingMoon

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@afterthought: @hound_of_war: @weidmann:

He continued to back away, even though the smoke was dissipating. His weapon had hit... something, though there really wasn't any way to see exactly what it was until all the smoke was out of his eyes. Despite not being able to see or smell anything, his ears were working just fine when Weidmann shouted.

"GET DOWN!"

He didn't get down, despite the obvious order. Instead, he turned around and put his trust in his feet. He had no kind of super speed, but he was fast enough that he was down the hall before the wave of energy and heat reached him. He felt a little shrapnel graze past his ear. He landed on his chest in the middle of the floor. He wondered, for a moment, whether he was dead or miraculously unscathed. It was hard to tell, at first. Then he felt the pain in his elbow, and pulled himself into a sitting position.

At least I'm not dead. Nor wounded, apparently. He glanced down at his torso to find no enormous shard of metal sticking out of it, no fire on his knees or hands. While it was true that he wasn't out of hot water quite yet, he wasn't dead. He could thank Lady Luck for that later, however. For now he had bigger problems as something started making a loud noise. He moved to raise his hands to his ears, gritting his teeth, but pain shooting up from his left elbow reminded him of the previous injury. He managed to cover his right ear but there was a popping sensation as something went wrong with his left. It hurt like hell, but more than that, he could've sworn he felt something breaking. Unlike his boss, he didn't have ear protection. Heck, he hadn't been expecting to rob a place this trip. Like he even knew where they were at this point. He didn't have his fancy comm thing on him, either. Maybe it'd protect his exposed ear right now if he had. That wasn't bad luck, he reasoned. Just a bad decision, which was why he usually left that kind of thing up to luck.

His hand wasn't really doing a good job on the other ear, either. It hurt like a beach. Almost as bad as that time in sixth grade when he broke his toe in a dancing competition. Yeah... not a good time to think about that. He dragged himself to one knee. He'd pushed his way past his bad luck, then. He'd actually won before anyone realized he'd hurt himself. There really was no point in doing anything besides that, now. He felt ready to pass out from the pain, but he figured he'd be able to get one more thing out of the way first. He picked up the eskrima stick where it lay on the ground and collapse it back into its shorter form. His head was getting fuzzier by the second. It would take a prayer for this to work. There was no in-between for him - it either went perfectly or failed miserably. He narrowed his eyes and drew back his arm, before throwing the weapon towards the Bat and allowing himself to sink to the floor.

The throw was way off. He risked hitting Afterthought instead, or Weidmann, if he got back up. Or just the wall and that last surge of energy was for nothing.

Lady Luck...

He started to black out.

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Weidmann

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#37  Edited By Weidmann

@hound_of_war: @afterthought: @risingmoon:

As soon as he could be sure the explosions had stopped Erhardt rolled to his feet, his fingers brushing against the lens attached to his dog's collar. There was a small flash of light before Killer vanished, while he felt it was important for the pup to get a feel for what a fight was like this clearly wasn't the time. Especially without any of the tools in his bag, all he had to work with were his two swords. Grabbing on to the sheath on his back he tore the leather ripping it off his back. With the sliver of time, he had left he removed his two-handed blade from its sheath before standing to his feet. His left eye still wasn't getting anything and he had no doubt it would throw off his depth perception, but he didn't have much of a choice. The bombs had cleared the smoke for him so he took the time to get a grasp of the situation. As his good eye flicked about he noted Doyle seemed to be alive, yet there remained no sign of their attacker. However, there was something in the air, the slightest trace of blood an unfamiliar kind. Before he could move to follow up on it or discern its location a sonic barrage tore through the room.

Starting at his ears the surge of pain coursed through his head, as the assault seemed to cause his skull to vibrate. While the Bat had been mistaken to assume Erhardt possessed any auditory enhancements, it didn't stop it from working. Went one was regularly tasked with hunting banshees and the like it made little sense to make them more vulnerable, but if he didn't find a way to stop the sonic wave it wouldn't matter how normal his hearing was.

Tasting blood as his teeth bit down in an attempt to bare the pain he closed his eyes completely in an attempt to trace the blood he'd smelled just prior to the noise. While blocking out the pain of such caliber would be more than just testing for most, combat meditation and similar practice were mainstays in a successful hunters arsenal. When facing down a colossus one needed to be able to remove themselves from the situation, blocking out fear and pain. So as a warm liquid ran down the sides of his head he raised his hand to his best guess on where the Bat was. His fingers performed a quick dance as he made the signs for Lohe, letting out a searing jet of flames.

For no matter how good he was a stifling pain and not letting it blot out his concentration, his body could only take so much and if the noise failed to stop, it would soon collapse.

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Voracious

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@littlespark: @hound_of_war: @deicidium: @preserver

This is War.

He snarled as a set of bullets recoiled away from the Razor. His new attack halted as the woman stopped dead in his track, as within the midst of the battlefield a woman had spoken to him without much in the realm of regard. "THIS IS NO PLACE FOR MERCY!" Septimus ran as if to intercept her gentle approach all but too late. The man who he had saved from Razor's Wrath had begun to run, yelling coordinates as the distance between him and cover gradually declined.

"Danger close! Danger Close!"

No Caption Provided

*BOOM*

*Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*

He was robbed of his ears, the vitae saving him from permanent deafeness as the high pitched noise robs him of his auditory perception. Chaos erupts all around and as the Vitae restores him.

Explosion sent him flying like a limp doll as he flew back away from the crater. His armor had become riddled with shrapnel, oozing with newfound holes in it. He watched as the preserver began to preserve herself. His strength sapped, as Artillery rained randomly from the air unto the battlefield, little concern for hitting the facility and more for the friendlies around it. Shots from tanks whirred all about. A sniper rou-wait a second. "Sniper. That sound. That rifle."Rising to his feet, he got up, precious strength expended in favor of bodily. He leaned on his bayonet, trailing the path of the bullet to the position of the He hungered now. For her blood. The being before him. But then, he saw the one who attempted to help, standing there frozen like a frightened cat. Then he sees the woman with the sword seemingly just standing there, consumed by her own thoughts. Hesitant to help her teammate. Her stance, seemingly as if to run. As Septimus stares at the electrical girl....he turns his attention elsewhere. He knew fear when he saw it. An enemy who would run away was one less enemy to deal with.

There is much happening.

Only that internal statement persist as he does not think further. He reacts. His hunger tells him to go to Razor.

When a pack of wolves hunt a Gazelle, they only care to take one as the rest scurry away.

His heart however, told him to go to the Presever. In the blink of an eye, he crossed the distance between them, standing before her. He stoops down to a single. "Get up." His eyes narrow, and he wipes the blood from her face, before licking it from his fingers and bowing before her. "If you wish to run. Then run. If you wish to fight. Then fight. The enemy is there, and she is weak. If you wish to save them. Then save them. But first, young one." His gaping maws open, and his soft blue eyes turn red. "You must get up..." He licks the blood on the floor before her. Wounds on his face, begin to heal. And then he was gone.

The projectile flew through the air well aimed, and in reality, the collision between Voracious and it carried the energy of both her own speed, and the speed of him running into it. However, the blade was too sharp. He leaned and swirved. One pierced his chest cavity and narrowly missed his heart by a few inches. One whizzes by his face. The third, he catches between his fingers. And the fourth slices through his knee cap and forces him to the ground.

"I see what you are doing" He twirls his shotgun into a reverse grip, winding it up not unlike a spear, as he chucks it like a spear, aiming to lodge it in her. "But you all still fall one by one..." She would not be demoralized, This he knew. SLowly, he rises on a single leg. "You fight because it is all you know. I can see."

His body is propelled by a single leg and hand faster than what the human eye could process at the range, becoming nothing more than a pale blur before a majority of the battle. Field. "There is no further need."

*Woosh*

He surround her, seemingly on all sides at all times by virtue of movement. Until after a moment, he would appear behind her. Maws wide. His stinger, partially extended.

Her spike riddled body posed a threat in that grappling could result in something going through his heart at any point in time. A problem he sought to neutralized through stabbing her in the skull with her own throwing knife.

"Sleep."

The Beast called for blood, and in particular, it had acquired a taste for hers. It didn't matter if any of his attacks were successful. He had waited a long time for this. Innocent lives atoned and killed for what? For money? For the ideals of some mad dog of woman who literally came here simply to cause as much chaos as possible and leave?

If this kiss was successful, she wouldn't feel it like she'd feel a bullet piercing the skin. In fact, it wasn't really painful at all. More than a moment, and the sensation would be euphoric and highly pleasurable. Rather than overpower one's will, it sought to make one not wish to resist in the first place. All the while Septimus sought to suck every pint of blood into his bottomless pit of a stomach with superhuman efficiency. Only God knowing where a human body's worth of blood would go in roughly ten seconds.

The Afterthought.

*Sniff*

She is here.

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Deicidium

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#39  Edited By Deicidium

Tiho remembered it perspicuously, those anxious nightfalls before his companions found themselves jolting onto battle. They would often gather around a flimsy light, share their thoughts, take a breather and simply work their minds out of the gruesome fact not all of them would reunite again. Dumont, a very roughened man, born and raised at Ivory Coast, picked up that beat up guitar, innately strumming a couples notes, bobbing heads and tapping feet ushered the song's rhythm, promptly infecting the entire squad. Random voices sung harmonically, laughter soothed the heavy atmosphere, hummings averted eyes from death's lingering presence throughout the field. Tihomir particularly despised said nights, the happiness didn't bother him, neither did the possibility of loss.

Dumont simply never remembered to tune his instrument.

An overlooked detail, seldom noticed by any of those with an average audition, but the Mad Mutt had always been recognisable by such a keen hearing, always complaining about the live music pubs soldiers were granted free drinks at. At the end of the day, it was not unlike waging itself. Minor details such as forgetting to cleanse your rifle's parts could lead to your downfall. Dumont never quite comprehended it, hence why Tiho was the one sitting behind a sniper rifle, serving a huge potency such as America in a rather delicate task not many heard about.

Today was in no way distinct from older days, the battlefield and the visages on his crosshairs weren't the same but that was about it.

The battle begins as any jazz song would, small, gradually growing, teasing men's inherent lack of patience with a tranquil crescendo, it was as if he could hear the piano, the saxophone, a melody to rally the hearts of the ones present. His finger firmly hovers above the trigger, vigilant eyes, the music's tone continually grows, it's as if it's about to outburst. Click. His first shot makes the sax go wild, all the serenity is lost, yet there is still a beat to be pursued, the battle morphs into some exciting form of free jazz. Chords are exchanged, tempos are broken, yet amid such a chaotic symphony, you can still sense the heart of it all.

This ostensibly messy song, it's artistic in its own right.

Tiho rushed to his other sniping spot with an image in his mind. Razor's grin as both bullets viciously punctured her skin, a monstrosity such as herself would never bend a knee against all odds. Perhaps she could hear it too? The songs of the battlegrounds, those who made his heart pump blood unlike anything else. Trumpets go off and the song is now a cluttered cacophony of noises, yet between all those aggressive tones, there is still the core of the music. The heart of battle. It echoes beautifully within himself, it always did, like they were both in synthony.

Song and listener.

Bloodshed and soldier.

Crouching into position, the sharpshooter mounted his rifle as hell broke loose in a distance. The song cuts off abruptly, it's no time to have a rushing heart, it's no time to consider tackling the issues head-on, a good soldier can adapt and overcome any situation, yet only the flawless soldier can do so without giving in to temptation. Thorny Tiho had the upper hand, until further notice he would maintain it. Reaching for one of his suit's many pouches, the soldier cautiously pulled out a petite vial in order to spice their encounter even more. Its content was a highly concentrated substance renowned to Australian beaches. Box jellyfish's venom. In any quantity, it was known to forcefully enter your blood stream, more specifically red cells, and make them porous enough to leak potassium, therefore hindering the beating of your heart.

In two to five minutes of tremendous agony, the victims die of cardiac arrest.

A pair of tweezers calmly picked each bullet of his new round, coating them in aforementioned venom before placing them back into the magazine. Five shots, two armor-piercing rounds at first and then another three Carbonadium projectiles. His bias was crystalline thus far. A couple minutes and Tiho's deadly gaze is into his weapon's scope. The girl's quaint sword is problematic, one miscalculation could mean she had enough time to bail, run for any cover. It had to be a perfect shot, one worthy of his marksman's career.

Aim steadies on the sword's portion covering her head. It was time to test its durability. He begins to hum.

"I don't want to set the world on fireeeee."

Click.

His angle shifts a tad, it's now entirely focused on her chest, hopefully slightly uncovered by the shock of the first shot.

"I just want to staaaart, a flame in your heaaaart."

Click.

He crawls a bit immediately after the second bullets leaves, turning his rifle around, attempting to find an opening. Razor's too distracted brawling against the behemoth of a man, momentarily hidden from his sight.

"In my heart I have but one desireeeeee."

She leapt once in an attempt to slice the herculean figure's stalwart frame, landing once more in a place he could finally get a better shot at.

"And that one is yoooooou."

Click.

Click.

Click.

"No other will do."

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_Razor_

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@_razor_: @preserver: @deicidium: @voracious:

No Caption Provided

Razor would only shake her head at the gesture made by the redhead followed by a smile. Her hand briefly raising a singular finger. The summarization being that the living weapon wouldn't be content until she at least had one more genuinely retreating from the fight. First things first though, taking care of cancerous munitions used against her. They were lodged in her abs, countless shards of ammo designed to help fight healing factors. She'd softened it's hold however by having essentially crafted her a carapace out of ribs and extending it through her body. It hurt, and the slowed healing factor wasn't helping cut off that pain. It kept her concious though and the opposition had given her time.

Time to change sniper position and coat ammo. Time to crack under the drums of war. Time to check on someone who wasn't ready for this kind of conflict. It all meant time for her to operate claws sank into her stomach from below cleavage with one set of claws, and from the hip with the other. Then tear, ignore the army and all their bullets it only helps make the tissue soft. Cut it all away deep slices followed by a flurry of other ones as bullets riddled her body. Cut deep, cut down to the bone, amongst the river of blood flowing from her, the pond of it pooling below her meat and bullets fell with sickly splashes.

Her body already starting to pick up on it's regenerative ability, to stitch wounds together. Flesh grew back looking to cover up shining metal dripping in carmine vitality. A ghastly sight of self mutilation and recovery amongst blood and a continued cloud of gunfire. She could see it though, behind black hair wet with her own cascading ichor. The monstrous looking opponent who'd shot her was launching his gun with it's bayonet like a spear. It hit's would have dug right between the ribs, if not for the carapace like change inside her body. Steel crumples before the harder metal's within her. A deep gash and more blood but nothing to fatal. He's coming in for a grapple, a good meat shield for probable sniper fire. Rayne knew who she was, most wouldn't try for a one or two shot tactic anyone worth a damn she imagined would be lining up sights soon.

Rayne would let him get close and take hold of her, a good way to cover her surface area from sniper fire. Especially seeing as body shots had been the previous aim. Problem with the crowd of heroes was so often the same, no communication or coordination. Four opponents all from a different walk of life it felt and not to in talk with the armed forces. The sniper fire would come, three shots and Razor suspected they would hit. Just would be someone else hit by them cause he'd wanted a hug and a kiss. A knife thrusted into the back of her head. A knick in her own skull, and maybe it would have been more. Razor had other plans however.

As teeth sank into her veins, a feeling of warmth spread throughout her body. Pleasing thoughts to a night some years ago specifically. One of if not the few times where it was more drunken fun then escapism as much of an aphrodisiac like sensation as there was though it didn't change her game plan. Essentially all the edged abilities in one the skin became sharp, looking to cut lips and flesh that dared to touch it. From almost every section of the body Razor's body burst with spikes. A mix between life sized porcupine and pin cushion Rayne's body became a series of nails escaping her body. Flaying briefly so much of her own flesh and tearing apart a majority of clothing. It however also came with a layer of protection against attacks made against her. Bullets impacting one of the many blades escaping her body.

She positioned her legs however away from the vampire's and avoided a blade escaping her sternum. The objective being that within the hold that drew from her, that had become a visceral coating of blades his own legs and heart would be sparred. "We should go. You can kill the others some other time." The hope being that in a meal of endless blood, damage done to him presumably made worse by sniper fire, and his own self preservation the two of them could be drawn from the fight. Otherwise she'd have to keep trying, "better to get food to go, then to let the rookie deal with me." He'd chosen to take an interest in a youth on the battlefield, so the living weapon looked to exploit such a vulnerability. Hint's of euphoria and lust from the nature of the vampire made the words a bit less in nature, on some level though the killer behind it all could still be heard.

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LittleSpark

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#41  Edited By LittleSpark

I've got my to the festivities when the guy in the sky starts taking more shots at her. He ain't gonna catch us unaware this time. Just because I can't get up there and cut him down don't mean I ain't paying attention. Moment he makes that telltale gesture, I'm moving to guard my girl from whatever he throws at us. No orbs this time, just a little line of sudden death. Some sort of laser or something like one. That'd be just fine by me. I lead him up a little, avoid it for a few paces, then move in quick to intercept. Don't let it touch my girl, but I bounce it off my blade, angled up to reflect it right back at him. Don't know if it'll bounce or not, but if it does, he'll have something to worry about. Either way, keeps the beam off my girl and off Scarlett while I'm at it. Good work.

Day ain't over yet, though. That sniper - whoever he is - is still out there somewhere. Don't have a good idea of his position until we hear the crack of the first shot. Impact shatters on my blade - don't matter. I can take more than that. The shot's at the tip, though, not in the middle where I've got more leverage. Impact don't break me, but it's hard enough that if I make the girl hold fast, it'll break her arms. Must be some sort of anti-armor round. No choice, gotta let the impact move us. Pulls her off balance with a bit of a stumble. Let her take a knee for a moment, then I right her again, push her back into position. Move her hands so her grip's solid with me pointing down, better way to make sure we can hold her fast against the next-

Second crack comes from the hills while I'm getting set, punches straight through her chest. The girl ain't wearing armor, so there's nothing to impact against. Probably better off that way, even the force of its passage cracks a couple ribs and tears a hole through her lung. I pulse a quick burst into the area, seal the hole before it collapses. Blood's still everywhere, gotta get that sealed off. I let the girl drop, no sense attracting more attention anyway, and it's too hard to hold her up. Collapse comes as a bit of a relief. She don't know it, but she's fighting me. Not her fault. Must hurt something fierce. Usually she don't react this way to gunshots. I wish I knew what was going on, but I can't read her these days. Not any more.

I pull back. Time to focus. The girl ain't going anywhere. I could force her to get up and run, but it'd be hell on her, and there's nowhere to run to. Bottled teleporter's a one-way ticket. With my girl broken like this, I don't think I can pull her out on my own. Sensible thing to do is leave her. Could have someone else to take care of in a heartbeat. Maybe Scarlett, even.

No Caption Provided

Some things, I'm just not sensible about. This girl's mine. Might be broken. Might not be what she used to be. But she's still mine. Ain't gonna leave her like this. In a way, maybe it's too bad that Black Bat fellow don't know a thing about us. "I won't ask you to surrender. I know you won't." No. He definitely don't know as much as he thinks he does. I'd do a lot of things for my girl. More than he'd expect. Curl her hand around me, cradled up close. Anyone tries to separate us and it'll be hell, but I'll suffer through a lot in silence. As long as it's for her.

Let my girl's eyes close - she don't need 'em. I don't either - don't mean I ain't aware of things. Just that sometimes it's better to pretend I ain't. This is one of these times. Let 'em focus on the girl, and hope they're the heroes they pretend to be. Most of the time I ain't got much use for heroes, but if they'll keep my girl safe, I'll give 'em a pass for now. Just one more of the things I'm willing to do for her. I've gotta focus on her too, starting up on healing those bullet holes. Going that deep takes most of what I've got. I'll stay aware, break out of the trance if someone tries to hurt her. Might just be best to let things lie for a while, if I can. Give her a chance to heal up. Can't say anyone's ever given her that chance before.

We'll see what the next few minutes brings.

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Preserver

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#42  Edited By Preserver

@deicidium: @conquistor: @hound_of_war: @voracious: @_razor_: @afterthought: @weidmann: @risingmoon:

It’s amazing how the kindest of souls can reside within the most horrid of forms.

Against all odds, it was not a soldier who had come to rescue her from her panic, nor was it a man. A vampire came to her; a being deemed a monster by definition and abandoned by God. His hands are cold to the touch as they wash over her face, but she can feel the warmth in his heart.

"If you wish to run. Then run. If you wish to fight. Then fight. The enemy is there, and she is weak. If you wish to save them. Then save them. But first, young one. You must get up..."

She nods, then rises to her feet as her hero takes his leave. Her hands curl into fists and surveys the area; nerves still shaking, but ready to push past her fear and try. But, as she watches the bullets continue to fly and one of the enemies fall to the ground… she loosens her fists and her will to fight fades.

If the horror that she had been witnessing was the result of fighting, then fighting was the last thing that she wanted to do.

“I guess that means that I’m gonna run…”

Yin begins to sink into the earth, fading from sight as she does. Anyone who was watching likely assumed that had fled from battle. In truth, she simply chose to stay her hand on a battlefield filled with knives and guns. A moment would pass, and the redheaded swordsman would begin to levitate with her blade resting on her body, then move towards the entrance of the base and farther away from the vault. She was carried by invisible hands that sought to save the wounded as others fought.

If those lusting for death chose to attack Yin for trying to save this criminal, then that was fine. And, if the swordsman herself had the strength to fight her way out of the alien’s arms and get back on her feet, then she free to try. Otherwise, she was simply going to carry the young woman away from the action and towards a group of soldiers who could detain her. As for Yin, without even knowing this young woman’s name, it hurt to watch her be hurt. Surely, if her life were to fade, someone else would feel the same if not worse. And those feelings that come from watching a loved one die? They lead to more and more of this.

As the warriors fought, the Preserver would seek to preserve.

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Deicidium

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"Bullseye." A single projectile enters his victim's body uninvited, puncturing skin and flesh as a needle threading tissue would, just as artistically too. A grin crossed Tihomir's visage, it was, indeed, a great shot, perhaps the best so far. If only such triumphant sentiment could be duplicated on his other target, it would have been a golden evening, one he could, most likely, tresure for the rest of life. Despite his best efforts, though, the bullets bounced off, the sea of carmine leaving Razor's body and her grunting countenance were delightfully pleasant in a way, not the greatest image in the world, but a solid contender for top ten.

Regardless, this was no moment to lay low.

Tapping his comm, Deicidium rapidly reached out to Black Bat. "One enemy down, the other one swarmed and possibly retreating, sir. I'll proceed with the plan. Deicidium over and out." He didn't even gather his rifle, it would be a job for someone else eventually, Deicidium extended his grip towards a petite bag and promptly rushed downhill, his mind set on a goal as the musicality of battle once more resumed to everyone partaking it. A flow of frenziedly melodious instruments orchestrated by every participant of this humongous band separately, yet finding a flawless symphony together. Although not everyone could hear it, Tiho would undubitably defend the idea of it being majestic.

Some sloppy members were required to continue playing for it to stay that way.

The Mad Mutt rushes over to a motorcycle he purposefully had placed on his surroundings, minutes passed and the redheaded swordswoman's life could very well be hanging by a thread by now. What would he think of him? The thought crossed his mind, honestly he didn't mind if she saw him as the monstrosity he always had been, yet he couldn't help but wonder why people overreacted so often. Wouldn't it be the same as getting irate at a mailman for delivering your goods? A job is a job.

And did he love his.

Wind buffets against his visage as he approaches the fort, all eyes are focused on Razor's suicidal attempts to fend every single enemy off, quite a few eyes spotted him, yet his utter lack of violence against the guards made most bullets still focus on finding a certain terrorist rather than this mysterious newly arrived figure. He was swift at halting the vehicle completely, simply hurling it aside as he bent both knees, taking the momentum to propel himself forth into the battleground. Spotting the girl amid all chaos wasn't the easiest task, thankfully some good samaritan had made sure to grab everyone's attention by literally hovering what seemed like a corpse.

"Gotta be my lucky day..." He muttered, rolling his eyes. Heroes were as troublesome as supervillains in his line of work. Running towards the entrance of Fort Knox, Tiho immediately found himself crouching right aside the one girl he had just shot through. It was a good thing the bullet hadn't lodged itself within her body, otherwise her life would be as good as forfeit thus far. "Easy. Easy." He rose both hands, gazing at the injured woman's savior. His stare than focused on the potentially dying girl and her slab of azure. She had a peaceful look on her face, everything else considered. "You did good, soldier. No more." He muttered. "Just lay down and stay alive, you hear me?"

Without yet another second to waste, Deicidium pulled out a petite flask of vinegar from his pouch, promptly opening it and trying to pour it on her wound. Hopefully there wouldn't be any resistance whatsoever. Throwing the tiny container away, this time he removed a small white tissue and leisurely attempted to put it over her wound, if there were no interruptions he would then proceed to place her own hand above it to keep some sort of pressure on.

His eyes once again focused on this terrified verdant figure who had just rescued the enemy. "I'm with the CIA, we'll take care of her. Thanks for saving her life back there, kid." It was a well-nigh robotic statement, there was no hint of actual thankfulness or even appreciation behind his words, yet one thing was true: they were the CIA and they were getting her out of there. Placing the backpack he had recently taken on the ground, Thorny Tiho quickly removed a device from within it, one he would take his time securing his victim's frail frame into. If no adversities came their way, she would be quickly carried by a fulton system out of battle, granting him the right to move onto the fort and provide aid to Black Bat.

If not, he would make sure to take care of any unwanted trammels himself.

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LittleSpark

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@preserver:@deicidium: @conquistor: @hound_of_war: @voracious: @_razor_: @afterthought: @weidmann: @risingmoon: @bottle-rocket:

Few seconds tick by and no one shoots her again. Probably means I made the right call, for now. All's quiet, 'till the green lady comes up. I hold my girl real still. Keep aware, for sure, but the green lady does no harm. Picks up my girl like a ragdoll, courteous enough to make sure I stay with her. That's right. I hold the corona, make sure I don't do anything unpleasant like lop her arms off. Told 'em I'd do anything for my girl. Even play nice for a while. The green lady deposits us off to one side, out of the line of fire. Of course, with a sniper in the hills, any line is a line of fire.

Another minute passes and a man runs in through the gate. Familiar face, another one of our lost causes. He and the girl get on all right, though. Pulls out a little flask of something, pours it on her side. I'm about ready to object, but it's just a mild kitchen acid. Not sure why he's putting that on her right now. Ain't standard medical practice. He seems to know what he's doing though.

Don't take more than a few seconds for me to start to wonder why. Only reason to put something like that on a wound is if it's been poisoned. And our friend here ain't got any reason to believe my girl's been poisoned. Shot, sure. Any idiot can see that. But poisoned... ain't no reason for him to think that. Not unless he knows where the bullet came from. What was it he said, first time we met him? "I can handle myself from a distance." Well. Ain't that something.

He tells the green lady he's with the CIA, acts up the hero's part. Not a bad actor, I gotta say. I almost believe him. If he hadn't screwed up the bit about the poison, he'd have had me fooled. For now, I just lay in wait. Let the green lady back out of this, then I'm gonna teach this son of a blade how to stab someone in the back properly. Guess that acid helps her a little, she's not quite so tense. Our buddy starts to unpack a transport system. Good. I'll wait until he reaches for my girl. He turns back to her and I get ready to make my move. Release the healing aura enough to channel my attention towards movement, and tense for the strike through his heart-

-

-Between one heartbeat and the next, my girl's chest seizes up.

Guess that explains the poison remedy. Change the direction of my strike, pop the corner of my blade down on her chest, enough for the bloody fountain to spurt up. Just about kills me to do it, but it tears through the blockage and takes the pressure off. Gotta take the pressure off. Lightning cracks into the area while I play EEG, get that heartbeat going smooth. It's enough to say all my attention's diverted now. Gotta focus on keeping my girl alive. That's the first priority. The world can burn to hell around us. It ain't got far to go.

Get the clots pushed out and cauterize it as best I can. Never played open heart surgeon before. Can't say it's something I want to repeat. It keeps my girl alive a little while longer, though. With that much blood lost, she's gonna be in rough shape. Don't think I could wake her now if I wanted to, even if there were much left of her to wake. Don't need her awake. Just need her alive. Focus the lightning, keep her heart clear. Let her executor do what he needs with the system he unpacked, as long as he don't try to separate us. No choice but to trust him for now.

I'll do whatever I have to. Just gotta keep my girl alive.

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Bottle-Rocket

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@littlespark:

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The single uniform beam he fired from his fingertips chased the agile young woman across the lawn, burning up the grass wherever the thin light touched. Shredded green blades and smoking sod were tossed into the air as the yellow ray homed in on the girl. When she finally slowed down for a moment, he smirked, knowing there was about to be a collision. What he couldn't expect was that she'd intercepted his attack with that gleaming blade, the cutting ray swinging in an arc back up towards him.

"YAAAH!"

The beam flashed against his personal aurora, his own ray penetrating the capsule he flew around in with a bright flash. Bioelectric feedback bathed his skin in heat, skeleton briefly visible as his own powers were bizarrely turned against him. Like an overblown battery, he twitched in the air before being hoisted off-trajectory, a trail of smoke from his chest marking his downward flight path. Barely still conscious, he flailed his arms wildly, eyebrows raised in shock and pain as the ground came up to meet him.

Mustering enough energy within himself to correct his fall, he only barely managed to pull out of the steep dive, windmilling his arms wildly to regain control over his path. He pulled up from the fall just before becoming a splat on the lawn, energy shield bouncing off the grass and carrying him nearly fifty meters away from his initial impact point, where he remained still.

"Ughnnnn..." he moaned, reaching up to unstrap his finned helmet. It rolled down to his waist as he sat up, tenderly massaging the top of his scalp. His costume was covered in soil and the logo on his chest had been burnt away entirely. He was far enough from Fort Knox to feel safe.

Well, got my publicity, probably. Mission accomplished, he thought with a pained shrug, knowing that the actual outcome of the battle wasn't what people were interested in. He gave to the fight, and maybe that was enough. A tank rolled arduously by where he sat, startling him.

They have the Black Bat and a thousand soldiers rolling in. Well played, Trent.

Recuperating for a few minutes, he'd begin the slow, sore flight back to Louisville to collect his things from the hotel.

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Voracious

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@_razor_:

Her blood was more addictive than he'd initially believed. It's rejuvenation properties extended to his own body, as his own body rapidly and instantly converted it into Vitae. Of which, the Elder vampire had a capacity for vastly greater than that of most any of his species. He could swallow a city's worth of blood and yet he only fed every couple of days or so. A little bit before this. But, the way this bittersweet blood gushed continuously made her a sickeningly addictive meal.

*Thump*A bullet pierces through his back, the Carbonadium easily cutting it's way into his flesh. *Thump*The bullets hits the same area, cutting a swath through himself as it goes to Razor. *Thump*The final bullets enters Septimus' body from behind...and the holes did little to actually impede the being. He didn't need any organs aside from the heart and the brain to survive. And even then, fresh blood fueled the Vitae to mend together flesh that was already functionally dead, and that healed itself through unconventional and mystical means that Carbonadium couldn't interfere with. Silver, Nth metal or an MK 211 Raufoss round would cause him aggravated damage, which even drinking blood would not immediately heal.

Further wounds come from the Razor, and assuredly, it is now his own blood he tastes. He snarls....and his grip on her becomes tighter. His teeth, pushed back and unable to drink her any longer. White blood trickles down unto her, and yet, spikes ejecting into his heart, one of the only places to meaningfully harm him, are suspiciously absent. No. Evaded. She wanted to make a deal with him. His eyes look up, and he spots the Artillery round in the air, moving at supersonic speeds and landing near by. Ideally, he might have been able to throw her into it's path. If he had so decided.

You fool. What are you doing? Jumping head first into harm. Throwing your life away. Remember now, that it is not just you who suffers from your self destruction.

*BOOM*

One blast later and in a puff of smoke, they are gone, landing laying in a crater previously created by the onslaught of artillery. Slowly, he pries his teeth from her blades, shoving off her and seeking to shove her away as he staggers to his feet. His thoughts, surging through his mind as to how to convey exactly what it is he thought.

"You think I care for my own well being? I would not hesitate, to destroy myself if that meant to destroy or you."He speaks, the venom in his tone belying whatever feelings he may have induced upon her through the actual venom he'd injected. He was a predator, and the venom served the primary purpose of sedating. "...If not for the fact that I have one who I do keep myself alive for. A walking Testament to the Unpardonable Sin of the Afterthought, and of myself." He draws his six foot longer greatsword, and his Bowie knife.

"But, you have something to offer. And that is the reason why I choose to spare you. If you wish to escape this, and to repay me this once, I shall allow it. First, you must feed me now so that I may use these legs you spared and escape. And then, you will feed another."

He sighed. His eyes wandering to all the men and women that Razor had casually rended through in her rampage, the scene looking all too similar to that of the truck-stop massacre. Although, at least they had some means of defending themselves. But, they are still yet ultimately men and women doing their jobs. How many had she orphaned today? The best he can say is that he counts no children among her ranks.

His eyes glowed an ominious red, and he gradually raises his Zweihander held out towards her. Not as sharp, but six feet longer. And a Bowie knife in his hand for infighting. If she rejected his offer, he was ready to have at her.

"Do. You. Yield?"

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_Razor_

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@voracious:

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Her redirection works dangerous ammunition of a traitorous sniper finding the vampire over herself. They cut nicely through him but are already breaking apart upon entry and find her various spikes instead of her flesh. The shrapnel doesn't enter her and the poison goes into him. Rayne honestly would have sang some praises for the mad mutt if she'd known. The poison her body would be able to weather with her healing factor, with carbonadium however it might not have mattered how effective his shot had even been. She likely even if still able to heal on some level would just find it meant longer bouts of suffering.

It didn't though and so she simply bled and was fed upon by the opposition. Eventually he let her go the pair a mess of gore upon the field. A military sniper round knocks her head to the side a chunk of flesh bursting free with strands of hair. It'd take time to aline shots to ready the next action against her however and with it enough time for the figure to speak to her. Her claws sink into the soil muscles tightening as the seconds of conversation and being distant from the field buy her time to recover some. Chunks of scalp abs and pieces of flesh along arms and thighs coming back, a wet squelch occasionally heard in-between all the other sounds. Jade eyes see it though in the distance. The sniper got Spark and now was looking to extract her. If this mission went as badly for the others as well then she would need to available for them. If the squad needed someone to get them free she felt the best odds of it happening were with her. If she was captured by the others here though, the mutt and the bat that walked it however she might be dead. Some rich kid they knew providing them with the metal to cheaply try and fight her. Blood was spat in protest, well that or from her body pushing out an extra pound of bullets as best it could.

"You should, change is something you have." Known for revolts and trying to force others to adapt on some level. To not grow stagnant or complacent, Rayne saw something in the monstrous hero thing before her she took a liking to. Some of it was a disruption of her thoughts brought on by the chemicals of the bite at the core it remained though. "I just followed orders, killed those in the path." Jade eyes telling that she didn't think it the greatest mission of her blood soaked life, nor had it been the one with the most innocent kills however. She wasn't a good person, but whatever sins this man put on Afterthought Rayne didn't consider her own. Even though she was willing to put herself at risk of death and countless levels of pain for her team at least in this moment.

"Yield? No." She was to proud to admit to such a thing. She also just didn't see it as to much of a distraction, they had to get attention and leave people hurting. Soldiers were dead, a rocket was leaving, a newcomer was done for the day and the vampire would be retreating. It wasn't the most triumphant victory she'd achieved her orders though, and any more and she might not be able to assist her own so she tilted her head. Blood dripping down her hair to feed the grass below. "I accept the conditions though." The various spikes protruding from her body reducing in length so as to not do to much to her captor. There was still a certain sniper out there though she wanted to be ready for though.

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Voracious

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@_razor_:

"Following orders. Where have I heard this?" He spoke with a sarcastic venom as his shadow cast. The cover was provided by the crater's depth. So long as they stayed low, bullet rounds would continue to whir by overhead. Shrapnel and dirt from ambient explosions sprayed every now and again, but in reality, Septimus did not seem to care for any of it. He looked at her with a face less twisted by anger and more black. His tendril from within began to visibly unfold as he pushed up off the ground, angling himself so that he could simply take any bullets fired at her.

As he hovers over, staying low to lose bullets, the Pale man lowers himself to the oh-so-tantalizing neck. He remains propped up on his elbows, and lays on her, angling his drooling mouth over her neck as the long, stinger tipped tendril extends from his mouth and slides in between the cells of her body so cleanly that it often left no wound for them. The entire process, was ultimately painless by itself, and the drug reinforced this further. It became not about fighting as it more so became about making the prey not wish to resist. Indeed, for them to revel in the fact that a bloodsucking monster was feeding them. If they ever saw Septimus in the first place.

*Gulp....*

*Gulp...*

*Gulp....*

His red eyes turned beady, and beast like. His overall facial expression, remaining blank throughout the entire thing. Pints of blood left her body and went into him, and it was hardly often he ever got to feed like this. To drink something so healthy and in a sense, exotic tasting, was rare for one who depraved themselves of the right amount of blood, and who often fed on drug dealers, muggers and street thugs. Human emotions of anger and resentment. Anger in what she had done. Resentment, in how much he had enjoyed feeding on her endless blood. To pull away even, was difficult.

His eyes scanned the battlefield with a sharpness, honing his caution as he was able to observe all the was around him. Then he turned back to her.

"Come."

With his new found strength, he could pick up a car and drag it along the ground. Let alone pick up the girls lightweight body. He had no particular qualms about how she was to be picked up and only wanted her picked up. As he would do so. The increase in speed would be gradual, at first.

*BOOM*

Dirt erupts into the air, and the pair would vanish from thin air.