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Avatar image for hound_of_war
#1 Edited by Hound_of_War (3944 posts) - - Show Bio

At the top of Olympus.

The lights on the roof flickered, the night was intoxicatingly hot, and it was only bound to get hotter from the fires the criminal underworld were about to light with what remained of the buildings. The weather was one of the things he hated about Gothic city, it was never just mildly cold or warm. The city was either scorching the streets in half or the raindrops came down from the sky like it was a tropical storm.

‘I have been distracted with other issues. New immediate problems rising every day. First it was Iceland, then it was the nGods, but now I can finally put an end to this. Every day since I sat in the oval office, every hour that I had to veto or pass laws. I had Gothic city in the back of my head. I knew I had to do this before my first term ended’

‘This will be what defines my presidency, wont it? Fixing another man’s mistake. Like Roosevelt getting the country out of the Great Depression or Truman dropping the atomic bomb. One way or another, considered morally evil or valiant. I will take Gothic city back, even if I have to break its knee caps and drag it crying back into the union.’

‘The Satars and Curves of this world have never been able to stop me and I have met them all. They think they will be remembered and that their status gives them some kind of power. As I sit on top of the world, I can’t help but to laugh at them. No one will be remembered, but at least my legacy will last longer than theirs.’

No Caption Provided

The Black Bat just flew in, there was no time to make an entrance and further perpetuate the idea that he was grander than flesh and blood. Time was essential if the mission was going to succeed. Maybe there was a shred of hope that the Strix would actually help him, he doubted that chance and called it naivety to even think like that.

But maybe that part of him would be right for once and he could avoid having to fight them. The silence kept following his invitation didn’t encourage this notion. At least he could genuinely say that opted for the diplomatic solution to this conflict before it all went to hell.

“Let’s skip the negotiations. We both know how badly this could end. It’s only a matter of minutes before the city bursts into flames again. You can agree to return to the Union and help us contain the riots or you can add gasoline to the fire. We can fight here as the city tears itself into pieces. We have troops trying to help evacuate the city and protecting civilians, but it will take more.”


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#2 Edited by Lichter (5808 posts) - - Show Bio

Gothic Airspace.

No Caption Provided

Far above the ever-shadowed city, a silent steel predator soared through the air, buzzing the city with utmost precision. Cloaked from eye and ear alike, Klaus von Lichter's unique Vertical Takeoff / Landing jet scanned the entirety of the town from top to bottom, taking its time passing overtop of every district. Even on the eve of what might be war, random acts of violence stirred the pilot's passion for the plight of those trapped within the infernal metropolis of crime. His yellow-gloved hands at the controls, he deftly guided the low-flying aircraft over every significant landmark, too high up to be seen beneath, even by those who might be looking.

Transflector-based panels subtly cloaked the craft, hiding it from aerial radar and thermal imaging alike. Cameras underneath mapped out the most dangerous threat zones, highlighting them in red for both those inside the cabin and any allies of the young Deputy Director of the CIA. He kept loose hands on the joysticks, lithe fingers occasionally moving to press a button and stabilize the flight pattern and send out a ping to map the city. Everywhere the map flashed red was a danger zone. Occasionally, he talked into a communicator, idly chatting about the current situation and awaiting news from the diplomatic efforts, which were bound to fail.

The Strix, from what he knew of them, wouldn't soon relinquish what power they had over their city. A premature judgement of character? Perhaps. Yet every time the boss spoke of them, he thought only of Otto. Aristocrats of their caliber thriving in a city of crime meant they were almost certainly criminals themselves; yet he could excuse this. One might break a law with good intentions, and if bringing order to their city was what they sought, he could sympathize. What he could not accept was a refusal to give up power, be it out of pride or out of fear. And despite whatever reparations they might be enacting, the terrorist presence still within Gothic would undoubtedly hinder any further progress and continue to threaten the United States itself. Yes, the Brahma Brotherhood was indeed still present within the city, and no doubt these negotiations would bring them to the streets.

Then, of course, there was the clown. Having expanded his own interests beyond Gothic City, Curve had become a murderous nuisance in the United States as well, while still maintaining a foothold in his favorite corner. Had the US been in control of the urban hellhole, Curve would've been rooted out years ago; instead, he was allowed to prosper in the filth, inducting more and more innocents into his cult-like gang. Lichter exhaled through his nose, eyes narrowed; odds were he wouldn't have to deal with any makeup-wearing psychos tonight. That would be a job for the ground forces.

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A venerable war within the streets was inevitable, regardless of how the negotiations with the Strix might go. Best case scenario, they legally agree to surrender the city while providing the military with tactical information, as well as rallying any defiant citizens to the cause. Worst case scenario, someone activates a dirty bomb and wipes Gothic off the face of the Earth. Most likely outcome, however? The Strix refuse the States' advances and create havoc within the civilian population, hindering evacuation efforts through their words and inspiring scores of would-be "protesters" to hurl themselves into the crossfire between America and the terrorist warlords still entrenched under their streets.

And so, they waited, his crew of specially-selected operators hovering right around his own age. The fact was, America's youth already controlled the future; they were endowed with more power and potential alike than any of their predecessors. Behind him in the cabin they sat, strapped in as he gently circled the city in the night; they'd all been briefed together, trained together, and haphazardly pushed into hanging out together. What chemistry his group had together had yet to be revealed entirely; this live-fire exercise would undoubtedly reveal their true colors. The story of their banding together is an interesting one, yes, and perfect for another time. Mentally, he ran through them in his head.

First and foremost, there was the mighty Joseph Beckham. Recruited first by Klaus with the promise of both opportunity to help others and a steady personal paycheck for doing so, the 5'4 youth's ordinary appearance belied his supernatural brawn. With but a thought, he could transform, costume and all; said to be blessed with the essence of a Greek God himself, Beckham's Gothic heritage gave the mission a personal edge for certain. Capable of hurling thunderbolts and flying at superhuman speeds, the Prodigy of Power was nobody to mess around with. If the fighting got too thick, he would be deployed to handle what terror cells remained in public, but his chief objective for starters would be aiding in evacuating those who wished to leave the city before the fighting would start.

Next up was the soulstone-wielding speedster who went by the name Stella Star. Another Gothic inhabitant, she'd been recruited after Klaus' machinery detected high-speed movement centered around Gothic City a few weeks prior. In scouting out the location, he'd focused on isolating and contacting metahumans he felt would be open to aiding their government's re-acquisition of the abandoned city, and she fit the bill. What truly fascinated him was the fact that her speed seemed more related to the passage of time than any sort of physiological or metabolic mutation; she emitted some kind of energy which dramatically altered the span between seconds, it seemed. Even more curious was its interaction with his Oscillator, which could provoke unusual effects. He was keen on exploring more with regards to her condition and how his science might change it.

Then of course came Sara Donald, the offspring of the legendary Shot. Some saw her power as a blessing, and others, a curse; to her, it was a tool to be mastered. Her father had been sending her to the CIA itself for training for nearly ten years, individualized programs preventing her devastating abilities from doing harm to any and all. Living in a special facility since the age of seven, she'd developed her potent abilities into an art of combat which intimidated even the Delver himself. She took after her father with regards to potential and jovial nature alike, and despite a little mean streak, he had no doubt she would become a great friend and asset alike.

Lichter's squad had strength and speed, but with regards to precision firepower, they paled in comparison to a certain metal man in the sky. A figure of great controversy indeed, and one not technically part of the VTOL squad's operation, he was nonetheless on speed-dial (so to speak) on the Delver's communicator. One word would be all it would take for Stark to rain fire down on a target of their choice, but in reality, he had an even more important part to play.

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Stark had kindly donated to the cause a veritable fleet of mass-produced evacuation buses, each capable of seating 66 and holding many more. These armored ferries were already moving into the city as negotiations proceeded, early boarders securing their spots to get out. Heavily-guarded and virtually unassailable by conventional means, they would serve the purpose of getting the innocent out of the dank metropolis before the first shot could even be fired. Titanium alloy armor and high-speed landing and takeoff would ensure the scores of endangered could make it out of the city, and powerful scanners would prevent any deranged suicide bombers or unsavory figures from forcing their way onto the buses and detonating themselves and all within. A grim necessity, those scanners, but also a particularly efficient one. The buses, in short, would ensure that anyone stuck within the city who needed a way out could make it out before the war could begin. Additionally, every ferry was equipped with glider technology, capable of gently landing should anything go wrong with the plasmatic rotors. Priority targets, he had no doubt something would go wrong; that's why it paid to have a Greek Godling on one's side.

And why had Stark chosen to involve himself, given the entire ordeal was his technically his fault anyhow? Lichter could not say. Retribution, perhaps. At the end of the night, despite all his hedonistic air and assurances of passiveness, it was possible even Stark wanted a good night's sleep.

Klaus pulled up, finishing his last lap around the city. Pulling up on the controls, the VTOL rose into the sky, cloaked in cloud. He reached up, removing the mask from his face while he tapped the autopilot key. He stood up and strode back to the cabin to talk with his team, entering with the same charisma he'd displayed during their initial recruitment.

"Well. Our first outing," he said, clapping his hands. His mask hung over the back of his neck, his hazel eyes scanning Joey, Stella, and Sara. He smiled encouragingly, but not too widely.

"I know you two share a personal stake in this city," he began, looking to the residents of the retro hellscape beneath. "But I'm going to be clear with you. Tonight, your home will likely see one of the most violent riots in the history of the world. And that's a best case scenario. Even with the Strix on our side-"

Which probably won't be the case, he thought, continuing without pause:

"- the criminals and terror cells who set up shop here aren't going to give it up without a fight. They will do whatever it takes to paint us in a bad light. Odds are, they're going to go after civilians, and blame the casualties on the fact that we 'invaded' their homes. That makes the protection of any and all non-combat-entities, be they human, mutant, or anything else, our top priority. We're not here on sanctioned business; your orders are coming from me, and my orders come, essentially, on suggestion from the President."

He turned to look at Sara, then back to the group as a whole.

"If you're thinking 'we aren't kids anymore,' I've got news for you. You've not been kids since you started using those powers of yours. You're the future, ladies," he said, then looking to Joey and nodding. "Gentleman."

"So I ask you: communicate. Synergize. Keep each other safe. And never, never panic. You're flying in the same jet with the kid who saved the whole Middle East with a punch, after all. He's got your back," he said, nodding in Beckham's direction.

"Any questions?" he said, crossing his arms reassuringly.

Meanwhile, six miles beneath, the negotiations began. And the moment they ended, the moment they were finished, Stark's carriers would swoop into action to evacuate those who sought survival.

And then the March into Hell begins, he thought, the holographic map between them all covered in pulsating red dots.

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#3 Edited by Jason_ford (1100 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter: @hound_of_war:

While the legal criminals did their work, the Scarlet Hood had his own ideas. Not far fetched from lichters knowledge of them threatening citizens in fact.

26 Ghost Crew, fully armed and loaded and on their advanced motorbikes, and carrying a lot of high tech explosives. Set out through Gothic setting up bombs, the detonaters of which were with two people, Jason Ford and Arnold Striker. But they had a special surprise to, if they moved so much as an inch, or if they were messed with, power outage, cut wire, sudden or large change in tempurature, computer hacking, they'd blow. No safety, wouldn't matter if the detonator was safe and untouched, just a big boom. Well, a lot of big booms, depending on how many he set off at once. They were strategically placed to take down a certain amount of area, for instance a certain street that might have soldiers crawling through it.

And while they did that, Two Red Masks hid in the sewers in full gear. One Jason, the other Arnold. But their actions, voices, and personalities, would be practically identical. And with them were four Blue Bloods from the Ghost Crew. They would wait to see how things went, while communicating with the rest of the Ghost Crew through a very encrypted private channel. Then, should the situation call for it, they'd decide on a plan of action.

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#4 Edited by VictorAdams (158 posts) - - Show Bio

Tonight is a good night, tonight is a night I once again get to don my cape and cowl. Tonight payment is due, every sinner in the city will pay as they armor up against the coming 'invasion'. They have no clue that tonight is the night retribution seeks out their debt and takes what is owed in full. Tonight Vengeance will be dealt like a hand of cards to every goddamn player in this city of sinners and bleach will be poured on the blood stains to wash them away. Even now as I hover above the city on my Japanese military craft I can smell the stench of blood and picture the streets for what they really are. Through my eyes I see the physical embodiment of hell on earth and every soul is guilty, they all have something to hide but, the coming moments shall allow the lucky few a chance at redemption. Vengeance is not blind, I can see the vehicles and soldiers of peace prepare to take those who sat in this limbo to a place where there sins can be washed away. These are the vessels of salvation for the lucky few that chose to board them, the others will have to pay in another way, pay in blood. Blood that I will shed, the blood of those who drove this town to madness and those who seek to prosper from it.

I clench my white gloved fists till my knuckles match the color of my garb. It's the waiting that kills me, the constant wait for that one sound that sets me off. The first gunshot, first explosion that sends me into the sadistic rampage of justice I need. I'm fresh off the cutting board after my last escapades here and now I'm ready to let loose my best on the scum and filth that line this city. Their very presence litter scattered on the street, their very souls black with debt waiting to be claimed. Even now I hope someone tries to take advantage of the stir of confusion that is no doubt rising among the streets. Military craft had gathered around the city and that stir had caused some to lock themselves inside their homes, whether it was to seek shelter or to take up arms. All I need is one soul who seeks to rush to the payment office, just one scumbag to set me off and that I get.

A woman who no doubt received the news a bit late and ailed to join the rest anticipating evacuation. She moved with her child as one man moved the other way, I see the glint of metal in his hand. This oughta be fun, I descend my cape catches air and carries me towards the two. He pushes her against the wall, her son screams, the screams only fuel my anger. They only urge the beast to come out and do what needs to be done, to show this scum he can't just do whatever he wants. I land, my feet touching down behind him. He stops talking and slowly pivots to see my white masked face, to feel the heat of my breath. From the sudden smell, he s**t himself, I gesture at the mother and child to move one. They do with a flurry of thank you's but that's not why I do what I do, I do what I do because it needs to be done. The joy I get from breaking a mans spine is just a plus. I grab the scumbag by the throat and push him into an alley, it's time for him to pay his debt.

in full
in full
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#5 Posted by Beremud (622 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter: @hound_of_war: @nikoleta_strix:

Gunther Beremud was not an easy man to impress. When you come from an overwhelming wealthy background, spend your life studying those with above-human abilities, and have sworn service to a psychic demon, it's almost natural to think that you've "seen it all." Even so, he couldn't help but feel a stirring of excitement as he observed his own army, his Metahuman Response Force, advance on the city that he considered rightfully his. An entire battalion of Bulwark tanks rolled like a steel tsunami towards the festering metropolis, followed by APC's carrying both light and heavy infantry divisions. Overhead, a small aerial fleet of modified Apache helicopters carried Downer teams ready to engage any skyborn threats, as well as combat robots and strike teams to be dropped in areas of tactical significance.

"Orders, sir?" The lieutenant's crisp, military inquiry snapped him from his reverie. Business before pleasure; there would be ample time to indulge in self-congratulation when the city was his.

Taking the offered intercom, the voice of the MRF's founder and commander reached the earpieces of every trooper and operative in this force. "This is it. This is what you've been training for. This is what you've been equipped for. This is what all of you have been born and bred to do. This city has belonged to anarchy itself for far too long. Tonight, it becomes ours, and by tomorrow morning, the entire world will know it. You all have your orders. You all have your targets. You all know exactly what you need to do, and you have everything you need to do it. Get it done."

As he ended his rather brusque rallying speech, he sat back in his command chair, located within a particularly souped-up armored transport in the middle of the advancing column, and observed. Every unit had been fully briefed; ostensibly, they were to push through the worst parts of the city, making a show of supporting any federal troops and protecting obvious civilians. However, each unit had also been provided with a list of "high-priority targets," which were to be hunted down and eliminated without exception or quarter. The list was as vast as it was varied: known gangs, crime families, vigilantes, anyone who held any amount of territory, wealth, influence, or other resources in the city. For the MRF, this outing wasn't a liberation; it was a purge. If all went according to plan, the aftermath of the coming battle would position Gunther Beremud as the only one capable of rebuilding Gothic City, and also ensure that there would be no one left to oppose his doing so.

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#6 Posted by Dark_Defender_ (82 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter@hound_of_war@jason_ford Alexander Russo had spent an uncountable amount of time on the streets of Gothic City. He wasn't born there, but this city felt like an actual home to him. A beacon of darkness that, in a strange way, actually nurtured the monster inside of him. As opposed to elsewhere that just shunned and belittled him for it. He needed this city as much as it needed him. A crimeless, free, paradise that these heroes or government agents plan to build will just ruin it. He needs the crime, the hunt, the never-ending pool of potential targets to satisfy his malevolent nature.

He hated what the President was trying to do. He heard it on his Defender mobile radios, re-uniting Gothic with the United States. Buzzwords always thrown around like "Order" or "peace" and "stability" was a common one. But he's working with monsters like the Strix, and other Gothic scum who have been on his hit-list for months now. All they would create was a police state of a few elite criminals. The worst of both worlds, and I won't have it. But for now, I need something to keep me occupied, a challenge even. I can't go after the Strix or anyone involved with the United States, it's way too risky. They would send their entire army after me if I try and sabotage their work too early. Scarlet Cowl and the Ghost gangs have been causing trouble again though.

Probably rebelling for their own reasons, making way too much noise and inevitably tracking attention to themselves. Idiots. Still, I'll end them as fast they pop out of the holes they were made in. That should satisfy me for the time being

The Dark Defender drives his vehicle right into their territory. If this is the last day of Psychotic paradise in Gothic City I might as well make the best of it. He thought while driving and preparing to shot down any of the Ghost Crew who stood in his way. This time, he wasn't going to let them beat him, he was going to hit 'em right in their metaphorical groin.

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#8 Edited by Doctor_Wheatley (3226 posts) - - Show Bio

Knocking On Hell's Door

Who is there? I question..I can feel you INSIDE ME. Lurking around my hulls, tattling cries and tapping nails, It disrupts my peace, MY PEACE!...Haven't I! Gave you enough, giving you my gratitude to live underneath your feet..Your delicious feet.... Repaying the city in the fumes of gaunt skeletons. desiccating entire cycles of wandering barbaric men walking into my grasps at night..I cleanse this city for YOU. Washing the outskirts of the city with my holy blessings. Can't you appreciate what I! Have gave to you, my child? Hasn't my complexion, MY BEAUTY decorated the soul of the city in my efforts to keep you..the cattle.. Safe inside of my sockets..forever watching you with my eye gazing at your clean flesh...only to arise when I see a speck of corruption.. Then why...DO YOU MAKE SO MUCH NOISE?!

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Haven't I been a nice neighbor?!

Then why..

Why is it so itchy..

Scrambling across the surface, infesting his domain with noise.

Make It Stop!

"Ooo-o-ooh My! w-what do I feeel like doing?"

Running the tip of his rigid nail across the face that was suffocating. Scratching the entrance of its bark, the screech of its wailing throat would match the pace of a claw slowly dragging down a black board. Inhaling the noise that polluted the halls of Its mind. It needed to release the constant echoing by opening the doors of the overflowing halls. The beige grayish finger would splatter with the thick sanguine clay that it transverse. Unclogging everything it was feeling so rapidly. It felt the city as if it was its own mind and soul. The flames of riots would scorch, the military trails stampeding across his concrete skin, the beating helicopters and jets singed his skies. The flesh manipulators organic presence felt everything the citizens of the city was going through, agitating the Blood Sheppard to go fourth and protect his cattle from the wolves that have arrived. The Angel Of Restoration would go answer towards the cry and hue of the streets above. Bestowing his divine to investigate what was besieging his harvesting grounds, whatever it was, he would put a stop to it...

"I'm gonna...gonna..-"

The laboratory that dwells underneath the city of Gothic was purely sold as a myth..A rumor..A hoax to scare people from wandering too far at night. The city was of course already bathed with violence and acts of indecency, but once in a while the man of rot would be heard or seen. Creating tales of a tall slender angel that would reap you from the shadows. Grabbing anyone off the desolate streets, there was no standard, there would be no mercy. It was a monster among monsters, something that even the criminals of Gothic would always conjure a second thought about going into a dark alleyway alone. However those who have survived an encounter with the so called myth were to be told to keep it a secret by other survivors.. Not as advice but as a warning to protect themselves not from the men in black, not from the exorcising priests, but from HIM. The Doctor would eventually find out if you've been naughty or nice. Keeping tabs on his fellow children that he deemed worthy to play and toy with..However this day was different. There would be no playing with his empty "nice list" ..Everyone was on his naughty list now.

"Welcome my guest!!"

"I'm gonna get you~"

Through the piles of gathered corpses

He would pry open their spirits

And their screams would guide him

A distinct smell would grease the streets, a haunting presence was gradually making its way upwards. Riddled mouths and hollowed bodies would overflow with smiles and lactating gore, as if the corpses were worshiping the arrival of the flesh God. Morphing the frames together, his absolute control of another persons clay was astounding. Telepathically molding the oozing marrow and crackling sticks inside of the meat sacs. The presence acted like a demonic force, conjuring the corpses movements to terraform and construct a satanic blood well in the middle of the battlefield. A loud grinding noise would accumulate from the instantaneous rot of the piled victims of riot. Growling louder the rioters were confused at the hellish display that mocked the capacity of Gothics pitiful "criminals" that compared to children to the wonderful art. Doctor Wheatley climbed out of the blood portal with a enthralling tool that vibrated in his hand. The bite of chainsaw was convincing that the doctors appearance wasn't here to play.."YOU KNOCKED? HERE I AM!"

The feral being would begin to chase down the children of the city.

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#9 Posted by Sahi_ (166 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter: @hound_of_war:

Loading Video...

Sahi had come to Gothic at the announcement of the President, he'd effectively moved the time table for her attack ahead by several months but she was ready. She brought with her a portion of the brotherhood, the most fanatical of their followers who were prepared to follow the plan to its fullest extent. Sahi stood silently on the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings in the city, her temporal blade clutched in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other. She smiled a bit as the US military's forces began to descend upon the city and waited quietly. She smirked and lifted the walkie-talkie to her lips. "Give me a little sound."

Speakers all over the city, be they personal or public (but not military or secret government) activated as one with a blaring sound that went out across the city and was likely to cause ear pain though nothing serious. "Once upon a time the little city that could destroyed the Black House and thought it drove away the Brotherhood! Not every giant runs away though, sometimes, they go to sleep and they sleep deep down, far away from prying eyes and those who dance in victory far above. So Gothic City, tonight the Angels Descend from Heaven to get dirty with the rest of you. They're gonna drag you kicking and screaming back into the United States! Before they do though, the Brotherhood, that sleeping Giant you think you drove away, has one more party to throw!"

Sahi smiled. "A little sound, a little blood, a good old fashioned Gothic City Brahma Brotherhood sponsored party...and what would a Brotherhood sponsored party be without the fire!" Upon speaking the word fire bombs detonated across the city and in their detonation they unleashed a familiar hell...CIF3 fire. ("It is, of course, extremely toxic, but that's the least of the problem. It is hypergolic with every known fuel, and so rapidly hypergolic that no ignition delay has ever been measured. It is also hypergolic with such things as cloth, wood, and test engineers, not to mention asbestos, sand, and water — with which it reacts explosively. It can be kept in some of the ordinary structural metals — steel, copper, aluminum, etc. — because of the formation of a thin film of insoluble metal fluoride which protects the bulk of the metal, just as the invisible coat of oxide on aluminum keeps it from burning up in the atmosphere. If, however, this coat is melted or scrubbed off, and has no chance to reform, the operator is confronted with the problem of coping with a metal-fluorine fire. For dealing with this situation, I have always recommended a good pair of running shoes.") The chemical supply was limited, so it was sprayed across the major roads and Gothic's most populated areas where it would do the most damage. The rest of the bombs were explosives, set to detonate and cause physical damage and chaos.

A second series of explosions tore through the city moments later, these bombs were small though and hidden on rooftops, in warehouses and other secret hiding places in every major sector of the city. They had been smuggled in over many months by the Brotherhood and hidden and moved about the city by @curve and his people. They were filled the best party popper of them all...Konite...not just Konite though, Konite given aerosol form. In the past one had to ingest or inject Konite but the focused efforts of the Brotherhood had made a discovery...a means of spreading the Konite through the air. It would spread across Gothic like a great plague, tens of thousands would fall victim within seconds, given random mutant powers they had no understanding of...and driven virtually mad by its effects as well. Now tens thousands of people that sought to defend their city had mutant powers and the rest? Well the rest might fight anyway out of madness. The aersolization process had done terrible things to the Konite, dramatically enhancing its most terrible traits. Sahi wasn't here to take Gothic City, she was here to make it suffer, to watch it burn and to cast torment and chaos across the landscape. She was here with the soul purpose of revenge. That the US military would suffer through it with everyone else? So much the better. The wind would take it and spread it farther. If no one acted thousands would become the whole city...and those trying to invade it.

Of course she wasn't done, fire was good, chaos also good but what was better? Armed men and women butchering people for the sake of doing it. Across the city the Brotherhood burst from hiding places deep below, they came out of the gang infested areas, they came out of the mutant havens, they came with blood on their minds, they came infected by their own Konite. They would storm into houses and public areas, tossing grenades and firing their weapons. The Konite Kings and Mad Dogs stormed into the city. The rumble of vehicles came from the west as the Road King and his Road Armada rumbled into the city on their own attack wave. Their goal was different, they planned fully to engage the US military as it landed and rally with any defenders of the city to try and drive them back...not to save the city, but to help it cause it's own future suffering. Deep down Sahi knew reunification with the government would help stabilize the city...and that was the last thing she wanted.

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Sahi smiled. "The Voice of Satar has spoken!" She tossed the walkie talkie and leaped from the building, using the force to slow her descent at the last moment and land safely on the ground. This attack was not sudden, it was not the arrival of unexpected weapons suddenly and without preparation. Sahi had been building to this very thing for months, the better part of a year in fact. Over that time she had been shipping container ships full of crates to Gothic, there in the secret docks the items were unloaded by Curve's men and spread out across the city, concealed as every day items, locked away in warehouses. When she had word of the impending us attack, she sent word to her own people in Gothic to spread the crates and bombs to their proper locations. Months of planning came off within a few moments once the attack started.

Now? Well, she'd kill what she could, they all would and then they'd leave...because this was revenge...she didn't have to win, she had no tactical goals to stop, no over all plan of conquest...just chaos, death and revenge. Whatever the outcome of the overall battle was it meant nothing to her and the Brotherhood, this was a reminder to the world that Satar was alive and well.

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#10 Posted by Stella_Star (456 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter: (short post, but someone's gotta be brief around here.)

"You'll be seeing her very soon."

The words from the castle had haunted Stella for weeks, causing a mixture of fear, anxiety, and anger to rise within her, as she had no idea what would happen when she met her mother finally. It had been such a long time, Stella didn't know if she'd try to hurt her, try to tell her off, or try to hug her. She spent all her time trying to ignore it, as she searched for her missing father, and her boyfriend, who was also now missing. No matter how hard she looked, there was not even so much as a lead to the whereabouts of either of them, but she did at least find a place to use her powers for the greater good. Stella did her best to put it all out of mind, as there were more pressing matters at hand.

The CIA Director began his briefing, and Stella snapped back to reality, paying her full attention to every word he said. She wasn't about to let her own life cause her to be ineffective. Director Braun mentioned Stella's stake in the city, prompting her to to shrug, since she was only there as long as she looked for her loved ones. It wasn't home to her. In fact, she couldn't understand how it could be home to anyone. Braun continued the speech, and Stella noted everything he said, steeling herself for the chaos that was about to ensue. And ensue it did.

No sooner did the briefing finish than did several explosions occur all around the city. Stella jumped from her seat in the back of the jet to the holographic table in front of her, and it displayed the carnage of several devices being used, including devastating fire coating all of its main access roads. "Okay boss man, it's starting. What do we do?" Stella asked the Director. She then anxiously awaited his command, so that she could have her chance to shine.

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#11 Posted by Jason_ford (1100 posts) - - Show Bio

@dark_defender_: @hound_of_war: @stella_star: @lichter:

The 26 Ghost Crew were positioned into four groups forming a large triangle of 8 men per group, and The remaining 2 hid in the center ready to snipe out anyone special. Close enough to grant aid, far enough to stay hidden. And they were hidden. The all wore their usual gear, invisibility cloaking, vibration foam around them to prevent sonic attacks, and highly armed as always.

As for the Dark defendor, he might have some trouble tracking them down. They hadn't made a move yet and were all cloaked and silent. Just waiting for orders. Jason was informed of the vigilantes actions however.

"Wait until trouble starts, then set off an EMP. Since his weakness seems to come from his robotic arm it ought to cause trouble. If not, he won't be easily able to track your location due to other violence. Then when heat rises take a head shot with armor piercing rounds. If that fails use the Target Locking cannisters." He ordered. Now clearly battle had practically begun. But not to many huge breakouts had happened yet, so waiting it would be.

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#13 Posted by Rapax (77 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter: @doctor_wheatley: @sahi_:

"Taylor I need to unite with the heroes out there I can't just play defense." Remarked the angel who was still somewhat oblivious to the way of things. She had a bit of a one track mind believing that ripping apart the vile individuals was the only way to get attention. After all as her heroic name implied she was a predator perhaps more so even then a savior but the scarlet haired vigilante wouldn't listen to it.

"Listen. As it stands I can't use a bishop on the chess board right now. I need something else, I need you." The angel curious as to what piece she was in the tactician's metaphor leaned in. "Besides your objective is going to put you into attention with others I assure you." It was around this time that a series off speakers spoke of a terror long thought dead. That the brotherhood was still in play getting an exhausted sigh from Dragonfang. From Bishop Tower's large windows the two ladies watched the city burst into flame. "Thought we'd have more time before it got that bad. Focus on protecting the transports, we've seen that fire before. Focus on the electrons Destiny."

As the large window opens the heat already teases the skin with the promise of pain. Infernos such as the one started shouldn't be possible the angel believed seeing it first hand. How earth had become so embraced by madness the angel didn't know. Now that she'd decided to take action however Rapax would do all she could to lay malevolence to rest. Pearlescent wings emerged from her back loose feathers falling briefly like snow an instant contrast to the blackened sky and tangerine inferno. Swooping towards the designated evac zones came first, for while the city was full of sinners many of those fleeing guilty to merciful nature declared the angel had to aid them. Landing on rooftops her hand would reach out unblemished and flawless skin out of place in the grime and filth of such a ravaged city. Looking to those raising flames she focused on the smallest of parts, conviction letting her look past corpses and burning brush. Destiny couldn't allow herself to be lured in by the hellish might about her. And as the angel focused gradually the electrons were sucked from the flames robbing them of their energy subduing them. Of course that energy had to go elsewhere and so once she felt confident the evacuation crafts were temporarily safe the angel looked for a target to direct her retribution to.

It called to her like a whaling siren to those on the streets, it's foul odor hit her harder then most fists might ever do. Evil was detected in a way she never thought a possibility. Destiny was sure this was the presence of a man behind the horror, it's amount of darkness though drowned the feeling the angel had felt even amongst devils given flesh. A chill down the spine, a tremble to her hand the angel was brave but not made of stone and the site of warping flesh and twisting bone was nightmarish to behold. Eyes blue as the sea gave of sparks as a flood of azure light began to crack through the air.

From raging infernos drained came an outcry from heaven against the flesh weaver. Lightning cracked in an onslaught of bolts raining from the angel's palm wishing to scorch and destroy such a horrific sight. Not comfortable with her retaliation yet however Rapax flew down in hope to look the monsterish thing in the eyes. Where in upon iris meeting iris a magic would be cast. By forces from beyond mortal planes in an act of divine penance the angel would seek to bring sins back from years of ones deeds. Destiny looking to make the doctor experience all the pain and suffering bed brought upon his victims, rending his flesh and spilling his blood as he'd done to so many.

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#14 Posted by General_Issue (85 posts) - - Show Bio


Adam knew the convention for this kind of mission was to go in alone, perhaps fight the BBEG alone. But he had instead requested a list of available troops, full access to an armory and garage, and a solemn promise that no one would get mad if he blew up US Military property. He was given... most of those things.

Seven men in total sat in a helicopter. Six wore black body armor, and carried large guns. One wore blue armor, and carried a shield. And as they entered the city, one man turned from a monitor towards the rest. "Traced the message. She's not exactly hiding." Wilson, as Adam saw his name was from his uniform, pointed at a large building in the center of the ruined city.

"Okay, everyone strap on a wingsuit, this thing won't be in the air much longer." And as they turned towards the source of the message, as the roads of Gothic burst into flames, Adam smiled, imagining the look on the face of the cleanup crew after this fight was done.

Sahi was on top of a building, surveying her handiwork, when Adam opened fire. The helicopter's main advantage to him was the large turret in the back, and he sprayed the rooftop with lead. As he did, his men leapt out of the vehicle, in anticipation of the attack no doubt soon to be launched by the Time Siphon. The didn't descend slowly, instead shooting in with wingsuits which they quickly detached as the rolled onto the roof, still clutching their weapons, which they pointed at the Temporal Vampire, while Adam continued to fire. On the roof there were only five, as the pilot had stayed in the 'copter, despite it being a near-certain death-sentence for someone without Adam's nGod physiology.

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#15 Edited by Dark_Defender_ (82 posts) - - Show Bio

@jason_ford: @lichter@hound_of_war@nikoleta_strix The Dark Defender managed to mow down a few criminals mostly, but couldn't find any of the Ghost Crew probably in the shadows. Just got to wait them out, can't hide forever. He thought pulling his Dark Defender mobile on top of some other cars and simply waiting. In the meantime he tried to listen to some radio frequencies to see what he could pick on the invasion. He flipped through the channels and arranged the dish, trying to listen as closely as he could. Most of it was just static, but one he could actually make a few words out. He heard "You're flying in the same jet with the kid who saved the whole Middle East with a punch, after..." the rest was static, there firewall was too good, even for the Defender Mobile's top of the line radio transmitter device.

But a jet? This was getting way bigger than he thought it would. It looks the United States army is bringing in their full fighting power to try and get Gothic. Why they would spend possibly millions of dollars and thousands of lives on this garbage dump of a city he may never know. But Dark Defender was part of the army once in his life, and he knew their protocol in situations like this. Since they're probably using what would be classified as an "Weapon of Ultimate Destruction" They would have to give citizens the right surrender peacefully before using any lethal force involving said weapon. This might give me a loophole to try and find proof of the Strix's wrongdoings without worrying about instant retaliation from the United States army. Suddenly, the Ghost Crew was looking a lot less interesting. He drove off out of their territory to the highway of Gothic City, his next stop for investigation would be Olympus. If there was any dirt on The Strix, it was there.

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#16 Edited by Ivana_Strigidae (671 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter: @hound_of_war:@strigidae_57@aria_al-sef@nikoleta_strix

Truth is the first casualty of war.


Loading Video...

The fifty seventh Strigidae maintained a network of informants across Gothic City. Homeless. Drug addicts. Impoverished. Branded criminals by a corrupt justice system. Overlooked. Ignored. Part of Gothic's background noise of murder and vice.

No Caption Provided

Nobody saw them. Even if you looked straight at them you wouldn't see them any more than you'd notice one empty beer bottle in an alley full of garbage.

But they saw everything. They saw a shadow in the sky. They saw a man in a mask. The delusions of a drug addled mind, you say? Perhaps. Nothing but a lucky lie spat by a fiending informant for a few bucks, you say? Perhaps.

And to another organization that's all it would have been. Noise.

But to the Wolfpack it was signal.

No Caption Provided

Signal confirming what the twenty fifth Strigidae had already predicted. Numeromantic prediction.

The universe was made of numbers. A fluctuation in the stock market. An uptick in radio traffic. Days the Strix had been in power. An algorithm into which was plugged the numerical value of the third letter in every word in Alexander Donn's speeches.

From those numbers patterns emerged. From chaos, meaning. Meaningless data was a veil over the secret truth of the universe. And Strigidae 25 could see through it.

Olympus Ultimatum

Strigidae 23, the Once and Future Queen, stood alone in an elevator. It climbed the mount Olympus of mortals. Floor by floor unimaginable luxuries passed by the glass.

Ivana watched them go by as she slipped a fifty round drum into her assault rifle and slipped a kevlar armored gas mask over her face.

It was a long way to the top. The former Shogun stood in silence, serenaded by the inane warbling of elevator music.

The elevator's musical ping announced her arrival and she walked into the room with the costumed Alexander Donn and any of the Strix who were present.

She didn't speak, just grabbed a dining table and dragged it to the middle of the room. Threw a first aid kit onto the table and opened it. Took out two syringes and laid them on the table.

Then she spoke, interrupting anyone who was already speaking.

"I leave throne. Abdicate. Go back to Strigidae temple. Talk to old friend."

"He tells me funny joke."

"Tells me about teenager in purple costume. Boy raised by father to be ultimate villain. Boy very smart; live by his wit. Boy travel around world, learning. Making friend. Making enemy."

"Clean shaven. No superpower. Self taught."

"His name Charlemagne Lebeau, many year ago."

"I laugh. This funny story."

"Then I think. What coincidence. What are odds two people have such.. similarity?"

"Charlemagne LeBeau, he enter government too. Not as President, but.. man close to power. More like.. power behind throne."

"Charlemagne take power same way, always. He bend law. His opponent, they have 'accident'. They end up in jail. Discredited. Declared terrorist. Or just vanish."

"Sound familiar?"

"It sound familiar to me. And it not sound like world biggest coincidence."

"It sound like family trade. Like father.. like son."

"It sound like learning. It sound like one generation create Registration Act; galvanize mutant cause against it. Second generation learn from mistake; second generation co-opt mutant cause. Corrupt from within. Destroy reputation of mutant leaders. Turn population against mutant by corrupting mutant government. Like parasite, destroying host from inside."

"It sound like the long con."

"And I not the only one who think this. Many Strigidae come to this conclusion already. My brothers and sisters think I am sucker. Think I have been played for fool by greatest enemy."

"This make me angry. Once, I clean house. I kill you. I kill Lichter. I kill your families. I kill your butler and your maid. Kill the dog and doorman, best friend, anyone close to you. Clean slate. Start over."

"But I older now. So. I give you both one chance. Draw blood, put syringe into kit. Call Lichter. He draw blood, put syringe into kit. We test. If you telling truth, then you live."

"If not I kill you both."

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#17 Posted by K_Brimstone (902 posts) - - Show Bio


During the search for Red Mask and his Ghosts, Random had alerted Stone to the President's announcement of the impending "reunification" of Gothic City.

About time.Kyle mused.

"Random, open all the DOD frequencies that the incoming forces might be using, please? There's no way we're going to be able to sync with their multi channel comms, so I'll have to broadcast in the clear." Stone requested.

"You're gonna do your do-gooder thing aren't you?" The AI groused, though it did as it was asked.

Stone donned the head set and spoke into the microphone.

"Attention all incoming US forces, this is Brimstone, K. M. identifier Whiskey Tango Foxtrot 01171970 Foxtrot Delta Charlie Foxtrot. Am current resident Gothic City, equipped and fully mission capable. Standing ready to assist incoming US forces. How copy, over?"

He'd keep the channels open, but he knew he had more to worry about. Red Mask would almost certainly not be a fan of the government's action, and be about resisting and causing chaos.

"Okay, if you don't mind Random. Let's see how well our tracking worked."

"Of course I mind." the aggravating machine replied, "but since you groveled so nicely..."

A map of the city came to life on the 36 inch monitor with faint pink tracking lines displayed crossing through the diagram. During the encounter, Stone had deployed a poly/resin foam that hardened into a concrete like consistency meant to capture the Red Mask and his cohorts. Unfortunately, the Ghosts had been augmented to super human levels and had escaped before the foam had flash hardened. However, the trace radiation that permeated the foam had still clung to the men, allowing Random to use satellites to track them. Evidently, most of the tracks had blinked out...presumably they had changed clothing and vehicles, or cleaned them sufficiently, but two of them still held sufficient residue to track...barely. One was on a roof across from a police station, the other near a fire station.

"Time to get moving," Stone decided. He moved to the Hurt Locker and keyed in the combination and leaned in to let the retinal scan read the pattern in the back of his eye. Once in, he gathered all the equipment and weapons he would need, and wrestled himself into the Maverick Arms Miraclearmor.

Before climbing down the ladder to the electrical tunnels he would travel to get to The Brick vehicle, weighed down with a hockey bag full of gear and ammo, The Beast minigun, the Acoustic Rifle, the SABR laser rifle, and his standard weapons he spoke to the AI.

"One thing you can look forward to in the next several days, Random," Stone assured it. "There will be plenty of violence for you to watch."

"If you live through it."

Stone didn't respond, he just climbed down the ladder and headed down the tunnels.

He set his weapons in the back bench seat and climbed into the drivers seat and drove The Brick into the night.

He wouldn't be able to take prisoners, and his ability to defend hostages would be minimal, the next few days would be war.

As if to prove it, fires lit the sky all around Gothic City. He'd been wondering which target to head for first.

The fire station it was.

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#18 Posted by Dark_Defender_ (82 posts) - - Show Bio

@k_brimstone: @sahi_@rapax@general_issue

The Dark Defender moved the Defender mobile through the hectic streets of Gothic City, trying his hardest to get right into the upper districts so he could investigate Olympus, but he was surrounded by fire and chaos everywhere. Innocents suffering and being brutalized at the hands of the Brahma Brotherhood, his old enemies. As much as he hated to halt his investigation, he wanted to get these guys for a long time and they were finally out in the open. A perfect time to strike, even with the fire he needed to go out and bring justice to those criminals.

The Dark Defender jumped out of his vehicle, machine gun and all. The heat was intense and he could feel his inner-metal burning, but tried his hardest to ignore it and power through. He could see Brahama Brotherhood assassins all around him (and inevitably army soldiers fighting them). He loads up his machine gun and starts firing at them, amidst all the chaos.

"You bastards have been running around long enough!" The Dark Defender shouts as he shoots away at the assassins. Trying his best to simply ignore the soldiers, though he didn't like that they were taking kills, that he believed were rightfully his.

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#19 Posted by Jason_ford (1100 posts) - - Show Bio

@k_brimstone: @dark_defender_:

There was one Ghost Crew of 8 near the both of them, the one that Kyle Brimstone had been tracking.

The one Blue Blood with them saw Brimstone first, and that the Dark Defendor was takin action against the Brahma Brotherhood. Immediatly he set off an EMP and turned, still invisible, to take aim at Brimstone. Unfortunately the soldier was still a distance away, which could pose a problem. He signalled by close range encrypted radio to the other seven to remain and keep look out. If the Dark Defendor was not effected enough by the EMP then they were to use armor piercing rounds and aim for headshot or throat.

The Blue Blood gathered his gear and mounted his motorbike going down a backway to avoid blowing their cover to any watchers, that soldier wouldn't be bothering them anymore. The Blue Blood came straight into the open as his automatic target tracking machine gun came up from the motorcyle and started firing at Brimstone while the Blue Blood pulled out a shrapnel grenade to throw at the soldier

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#20 Edited by K_Brimstone (902 posts) - - Show Bio

@k_brimstone: @dark_defender_:

A sqawk chirped on the comm gear, indicating a scrambled radio broadcast had gone out nearby.

"Short burst communication. Would take more time to decrypt than it's probably worth, plus...ensuing violence." Random piped over the speakers almost cheerily.

Sure enough a Ghost was zipping right at him, auto fire raining rounds in on The Brick as Stone kept the vehicle's speed as it was. The enemy's bullets danced off The Brick's armor, scoring the paint but not much else. In response, Kyle popped the 20mm rotary cannon out the top of the SUV, tracked the Ghost on the windshield's Heads Up Display and thumbed the trigger.

The weapon simply roared, spitting a seeming tongue of flame that reached out for the bike mounted Blue Blood, spent brass cascading down the top of the vehicle and skittering over the asphalt. The transuranic slugs blasted a trench into the roadway as it neared the enemy agent, carrying so much kinetic energy that explosive or armor piercing tips would have been redundant.

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#21 Posted by Aria_al-Sef (555 posts) - - Show Bio
No Caption Provided

Far from her allies, far from the network and far from the citywide conflict the twenty-fifth Strigidae nested herself in prep for the operation. Precisely 1,084.77 yards from the Olympus building, she maintained a perfect vantage point driven by the matrices of her mind. The city was a series of 3-dimensional geometric functions and she'd chosen her position based on several rapidfire equations, situated atop the building where the numbers guaranteed the best possible vantage point on both Olympus and City Hall with minimal necessary movement.

Her setup was simple and relatively inconspicuous. Prone, peering through the 3.5-10x40mm scope on her TAC-338 set on a bipod. Alone. Fifty-seven's network was useful to the Pack but Aria didn't need human spies to tell her what the universe itself already had.

In typical heroes fashion the Black Bat made a rooftop entry, and she saw him. Her focus shifted almost entirely to Olympus then. Peculiar that he'd seek out the baby Strix rather than the mayor himself, but not unforeseen. Aside from the siblings' relative levels of at-all notable activity the mayor had already spurned the States once. "Maybe the girl will be more amenable," she imagined them saying.

Maybe, maybe not.Doubtful it'll matter much in a few seconds.

Ivana arrived as if on cue in her usual queen bitch fashion and Aria noted that too. She hardly needed to. The matrix of possible interactions and outcomes was large, results predicated upon various factors including persons involved and circumstances; but those outcomes were in fact finite. Aria understood that perhaps better than anyone. She didn't need to hear Ivana's words or even fix her in a direct line of sight to figure how Twenty-Three would act.

He, however, was yet an incomplete puzzle. A mass of probabilities, though that too would become clearer in time. It always took time, but the numbers always told. Assuming he lived long enough.

Aria let out a deep sigh and then recommenced the calculated, rhythmic tempo of her breath while counting the seconds.

Move it along please. The longer we wait, the higher potential for trouble.


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#22 Edited by Lichter (5808 posts) - - Show Bio

Above Gothic


Their pre-mission briefing was cut short by a mighty explosion, the entire city illuminated at once by the simultaneous detonation of deadly ClF3 firebombs. A remnant from conflict in Gothic past, Klaus's dismay showed on his brow, realization that he was about to send his allies into the heart of that inferno. But they knew what they signed up for, and he knew that they would be here anyway, without his interference. He was helping them in the end by making sure they'd get through the night alive.

Grimacing, he stared into the advancing gaseous cloud in the city streets, quickly raising the VVG goggles to his eyes with his left fingers. The unique appearance keyed him into the weapon's nature, as did the effect it was having on those unlucky enough to be caught in it.

"That's Konite, in aerosol form. You breathe it in, you're getting extracted and treated. Luckily, I have masks for you. Prepare for landing," he said, pulling his own cowl down over his face. "Joseph, I need you on those fires. Just like we practiced. Then prioritize the EVAC buses," he said, gesturing with a small remote in his hand. The back bay door of the VTOL opened, the Destroyer of Worlds set to go.

"Stella, get innocents out of the way of that cloud. Mask on, all times. Clear the blocks. Load them onto the buses, or just run them out of the city. Don't push yourself too hard," he emphasized, producing a small facemask which could be applied under her traditional attire. It would protect her from any chemical residue, and keep her vision clear as well. "I believe in you."

"Sara, operate at your discretion. Unknown combat entities are to be presumed hostile until otherwise identified. Once again, prioritize civilians and the airbuses." He handed her an identical mask to the one he'd given Stella.

"Communicators on, everyone. Keep in contact."

With that, he turned to the controls, guiding the speeding ship down towards the buildings. At this point, Joseph would've left the craft, the back hatch closed; landing on a rooftop, he'd deposit the rest of his team, wishing them luck as they braved the unknown. He tapped his comm unit.

"I'll be running air support. Call if you need me."

Pulling up on the controls once again, the stealth fighter would take off into the sky above the streets, still scanning for targets below. Alone now, sweat running down his brow, he needed a way to calm his nerves. Exhaling, he reached over with a deft finger, tapping a button and selecting a song to play in the background and stimulate his mind. It was a fitting one...

Through the City Streets (a split second later)


No Caption Provided

The high-speed VTOL tore through the sky, shaking windows as it shifted out of stealth form. Gloved hands tightened on the controls, high speed and low altitudes challenging the Legacy's skills and mind alike. His mind stimulated and grown from birth, he was capable of picking up virtually any skill in an instant; training with his own personal craft, as well as its masterful design, had rendered him a capable pilot. Yet even as he moved, he moved with caution, wary of any and all architectural challenges.

Spinning through clouds of smoke and maneuvering wildly between buildings, Klaus pulled low, eyes narrowing as the targeting computer identified hostile targets. Radar pulses and thermal imagery combined to accurately map out Gothic's streets, especially the most contested areas; non-combat operatives were hardly anywhere to be seen, those streets already evacuated. The barrel under the front of his VTOL spun, heating up as he zoomed overhead; biting his lip, he pulled the trigger.

Wheatley's walking corpses, Sahi's terror operatives, Ford's Ghost crew...all had one thing in common. As the fires climbed into the night, the VTOL rained down bullets, strafing the most violent streets and identifying all hostiles before firing to ensure no non-combat entities were caught in the fire. He never stopped to present himself a target, the stealth fighter looping through the air faster than most could even notice it. The machine gun's high-velocity bullets, Maverick grade, were designed to home in on their targets, but he abandoned this feature to ensure he wouldn't have to slow down.

City streets were strewn with debris and wrecked roadway as the plane bombarded its targets with explosive lead, the recoil shaking the youth's hands as the flashes cast ominous shadows upon his masked face. He sat in the cockpit, spiraling through the battlefield, doing as much damage as he possibly could. Squinting, he reached over to activate another comm, ensuring his last message to @hound_of_war had been sent.

Air support available at your location within seven seconds if need be.

This would take priority over all other targets, but until then, he would rain hell on any terrorist operatives in the open until he were called. Fire blazed from his ship, eyes determined and without soul.


@rapax (maybe)

The Stark buses soared into action, removing those who wished to be saved quickly and efficiently. Scanners on the top of each flying ferry rapidly checked for any sort of IED or firearm as the innocents boarded. With a readout on a screen to his left, Klaus kept an eye on the status of each one, their pilots capable of telling him if they came under fire. Guards stationed on each bus would streamline and organize the panicked refugees, helping them board safely and securely. Each ferry could seat 66, but in an emergency like this? 140 Gothicites per bus would work just fine. The fleet deployed, twisting between buildings and landing on both streets and rooftops. No innocent would be left behind, those saved deposited back in the mainland USA.

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#24 Posted by VictorAdams (158 posts) - - Show Bio


It's finally begun and I finished just in time, the bloody pile of grey matter and bone chips behind me marks the remains of that scumbags skull. As I look up it's as if my actions have opened the gates of hell themselves, the city lit ablaze with choking flames and noxious fumes. Even with my mask the air is thick and hard to breathe, I call for my scythe and she arrives in all her white glory. A tool for reaping, a tool for collecting the debt of sinners. He rotors push air downwards which in turn lifts me upwards high into the sky and just out of the black grasp of the cities flames. I pull my red stained gloves higher upon my wrist, flexing my fingers to ensure maximum comfort and efficiency. Then I make my move, flying above the smoke and flames I witness a sight most would never imagine seeing. The dead walking among the living, the tools of hell seeking to feast upon all and infect them with it's corruption. I bring my craft in low swooping down and firing into the hordes of satanic spawn spraying decay and rot across the streets. It should blend in just fine with the blood they're painted in. With a precise leg movement my craft loops around coming in for another wave, this time the bullets aren't the only thing spilling undead blood tonight. With a flip I bring my whole weight down on the rotting corpse crushing it against the ground. The hordes of slimy corpses turn towards me, their jaws snapping like a drum beat and beckoning for me to step inside. Too bad the only thing coming near those mouths were my fists, a clean left hook disconnects a jaw and sends it flying into the row of reanimated body parts. The rest of the body lunges towards me, I take hold of it's arm and turn my hips against it's. I shoot my weight back and pull down, the body flips over and slams into the wall of corpses encircling me. Still the only thing bothering me here is the smell, the smell of burning rot. The smell of decomposition mixed with the fumes of hell singes the ends of my nose hairs.

The horde surged forward all at once, like a hive minded organism who's only wish was to kill. Arms wrapped around mine and jaws bit down on the durable cloth I wore, more and more piled on top of me. Their nails seeking to tear open my costume and allow their jaws to go to work.


WHOOOOSH...BOOOOOM, concussive power backed by flames tears through the mass of corpses on top of me. Their limbs are scattered with their organs and their organs with their limbs. I rise to my feet surrounded by a wall of flames and silence. The silence is all too brief, a low growl backed by hunger catches my attention. From the flames they emerge, the hellish creatures engulfed in the fires of their homeland charged towards me. I ready myself to engage them once more but the loud POP POP POP of automatic weaponry accompanies the dropping of bodies. The military has begun it's engagement and I consider it best not to get in their way. With a whistle the Scythe swoops down behind me, I leap into the air allowing my feet to touch her and carry me away.

Now I'm left without a skull to smash but, this city is like the worlds biggest villain convention so finding one wouldn't be too hard to find. In truth I'm correct, the true embodiment of hell appears before my sight. A pool of blood from which the undead climb their disgusting way out of. Among them one stood out, his righteous vision saw him as one who had a debt to pay. The way he moved against the crowd, the way he swung his saw at any living thing that crossed his path. This was a blacked soul with a debt to be collected and I was knocking on his door.

The 30mm gun fires first lighting up the corpses below and carving a path for me to move along. As my craft swoops in I leap like an eagle, crescent stars already in hand I release them. Their razor sharp edges whizz towards the crazed man, behind them I approached. Not slowing my descent but seeking to slam the full weight of my body against his chest, if I managed to my feet would push off and I would take a fighting stance against him.

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#25 Posted by Jason_ford (1100 posts) - - Show Bio



There were many advantages to the Blue Blood drug. One of them being that you could dodge firearms and see them aiming much sooner than a normal person would. The Blue Blood dropped to the ground pulling a rocket launcher from the bike as he let it slide, but he wasn't finished. He prepared the bike for detonation instead of using the grenade and just let it slide towards the Brick ready to go boom on impact. Meanwhile the Blue Blood would dance out of the way holding a rocket launcher as he ran for cover, if Kyle survived he'd send a rocket after him and then pull out his rifle to try and shoot him in vulnerable areas like the throat or eyes.


Sure, The Ghost Crew were fast, and well armored. But an assault like this took down the group that had seven left in mere moments, no matter how trained they were. The other teams were preordered enter beneath the buildings, a strategic contingincy in case air support was called in. However the two who were alone took out rocket launchers and started firing at the new threat, even if they were to be mowed down soon.


Jason and Arnold were not happy at all about what they could tell was going on outside. If worse came to worse, they'd have to order a complete evacuation of troops and what cargo they hadn't already disposed of or properly moved. Jason wasn't one to give up easy. But his teams weren't meant to combat armies unless he had full control of the field. He was prepared to detonate almost every building in Gothic if he had to, but that would be a last ditch effort to halt them. And could pose worse threats afterwards. This would require the waiting out, the proper choosing of targets like the air support or 'heroes' and letting the bigger gangs take on the military.

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#26 Edited by Lichter (5808 posts) - - Show Bio


Main Street

Immediately after sending his last message to the Boss, Lichter had descended towards the Scarlet Hood's forces, opening fire on them as he had Sahi's and Wheatley's. He did not smile as the bullets whittled away at their numbers, nor did he grimace; he simply fulfilled an obligation, to both himself, and to order. A look of surprise flashed across his masked visage, however, as his warning computer blared red, rockets shooting up towards his assault craft.

No! he thought, gritting his teeth and jamming the right joystick hard to the left. The craft spiraled into an aileron roll, barreling overhead as the rockets homed in on him. Fighting G-forces and stress, he jammed his finger into a button which activated the decoy flares in the back wings, the red lights shooting out to obstruct his craft from the missiles' respective targeting systems. It was enough for most of them, but one got through, exploding near the right wing and shaking him in his seat.

Lurching forward, he lost control of the plane for a fraction of a second, the VTOL wobbling dangerously close to the ground. Biting his lip so hard it bled, he pulled up hard on the controls, narrowly avoiding a nearby building.

This zone is too hot, he thought, ascending higher. Ford's men had warded off his assault for now, the youth's hands shaking as he examined the external condition of his transport. All was intact, but the right engine might've been damaged. He couldn't risk crashing, not here, not now.

Ugh. First dent, he realized, looking back at the status update. Even as his allies fought beneath, he found himself curious as to Donn's current predicament. Spinning in the air, he descended, passing over the Olympus club.

Above Olympus

Klaus' function in the mission was air support, and air support he provided. Lowering a targeting computer over his face, he kicked the craft into hover mode, halting his advance and staying high in the clouds. As part of defense protocol for their commander-in-chief, he would, of course, keep their surroundings clear of any potential game-changers. The nose of his craft rippled and whined, pulsating image-mapping sonar and infrared scanning the surrounding buildings. Most civilians were evacuating, which meant life-signs, particularly non-moving ones, represented potential threats.

He narrowed his eyes, peering at a building about a thousand yards from Olympus.

He checked Donn's frequency, but he was listed as busy. It was paramount that he not be interrupted...which left him with another option.

"This is air support to Chihuahua. Unknown combat-entity on a nearby roof (@aria_al-sef). Female, armed. She has eyes on the boss."

The message was relayed to one of their operatives, a contingency set up just for this situation. Content that his message had been received, Klaus peeled away, strafing the outskirts of the city once again. Content that his VTOL was still in combat-ready shape, he dove once again towards Main Street, and Ford's crew...

Main Street

Klaus spiraled back down towards the street, but this time, he remained above the rooftops, instead relying on his homing missiles to do the trick against Ford's crew. Still, he didn't know where they were, exactly; the missiles would be blind-fire, and thus less likely to hit. It was more about suppression than elimination.

Regardless of success, he'd peel off again, not willing to continue engaging a potentially dangerous foe. He was needed in the air more than on the ground.

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#27 Edited by K_Brimstone (902 posts) - - Show Bio
No Caption Provided


Stone had pretty much expected something like this from previous encounters, especially after how fast Red Mask and his men had moved at the jewelry store, so Kyle was ready when the Blue Blood performed his slide out. Stone nodded his head down to track the motorcycle on his HUD and the canon followed the motion ripping into the skidding vehicle detonating it ahead of The Brick.

However, the detonation created a large smoking hole that neatly bisected the jagged trench made by The Brick's canon. Only the vehicles wide wheel base and Stone's experience in combat driving kept The Brick from toppling completely over, as it was it jolted and bounced crazily out of control. Though The Brick sported four wheel drive, the passenger side rear wheel was stuck fast in the cannon trench and it would take precious seconds to get the vehicle out.

Stone reflexively looked to the side, the cannon tracking with the gesture to point directly at the Blue Blood that was a mere twelve meters away pointing a rocket launcher directly at him. No one, who didn't possess actual super speed, could possibly dodge the canon at this range, but could he get the enemy before the rocket launched?

The soldiers thumb fell on the trigger as the canon screamed its fury.

No Caption Provided

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#28 Posted by Jason_ford (1100 posts) - - Show Bio


While what was left of the Ghost Crew teams ran into the sewers for safety, the last team of two with rocket launchers were not quite as fortunate. One of them managed a last rocket off before one of Lichters missiles hit below them sending them and the building they were on into shattered rubble.

Jason heard the news by now but he still had one man out there, a Blue Blood. Probably his best chance at stopping it. If not he had another idea. But that particular Blue Blood was facing off against another enemy of his, Kyle Brimstone. So for now, yet again, he had to wait.


The Blue Blood was not having to great a time either. He was not expecting such a quick reaction from the soldier and so when he was fired upon the sheer force of the bullets pounding through his chest knocked him onto his back. He laid there, for a few seconds that is. Probably one of Jasons greatest inventions was at work here, recyclable reconstructive healing. The process was fairly quick, even if it looked gruesome and painful. The Blue Blood still just laid for a moment, thing is. They could still be killed, but it wasn't an easy feat. However, normal humans didn't do so well against rockets as Blue Bloods did against bullets. With a sudden quick movement the Blue Blood sat up and fired the rocket at Kyle the moment he caught sight of him. Reloading would be to much of an issue so he tossed it into an alley, remembering it, and backflipped to get out of the way. If it worked that darn soldier might actually die this time. Dude survived a military level sniper, so who knows.

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#29 Edited by Nikoleta_Strix (1922 posts) - - Show Bio


The humidity hung in the air, adding a visceral level to the saturated ambiance of Gothic City.

For the past months, every citizen of the city had been on edge. A sense of foreboding was heavy in the air, as thick and impenetrable as the humidity that they had all been waiting to break.

Everything had a breaking point. Gothic City had reached the breaking point time and time again, always coming back from the precipice. The latter point of this could be argued, had been before, would be again. But she stood, however bent and broken she was. She stood.

A stiflingly warm breeze swept across the rooftop of Olympus and a bitter sense of irony sat in the pit of Nikoleta's stomach. She had tempted the gods themselves by daring to name a mortal creation with the name of their homestead, and it seemed that they were coming to strike her down for the grave sin of hubris.

A black battlesuit clung to every inch of her skin, and the deep red sheen layered beneath the black prevented anybody from determining if it had been breached enough to leave her bleeding.

She was prepared for war, prepared for what was coming. Death hung in the air. Death and destruction.

It was no surprise at all to her when the masked figure landed on her roof. Vigilantes ran rampant in Gothic and came out en masses in times of crisis. She had been expecting Donn to send somebody as soon as the alerts began hitting her comm network about the movement towards Gothic.

Olympus was the highest structural point in the city, and from her vantage point at the end of the roof, Nikoleta was able to survey the city spread out before her.

To her, Gothic was and had been many things. But above all, it was home. It was hers. She'd been taught young and often that nothing was home. She was not to have a heart, not to form attachments. But Gothic had managed to worm its way in, to sink its hooks into her. And she was doing everything she could not to buckle under the weight of it.

She turned to look at the Black Bat. He struck an imposing figure, wearing a costume that shared resemblance with ones worn many times before within the lines of the city. He had a muscled physique, a sturdy frame, but his shoulders slouched slightly for just a moment, as if the weight he were bearing were just a touch too much. It was a moment of humanity behind the mask, something all too rare within the vigilante community.

Donn had sent him, that was clear. And she could never trust Donn, never believe in him. Because she couldn't trust that he wanted Gothic to take care of it, to nurture it, to revive it. All things that the Strix had been attempting to scrabble together with the power that they wielded.

Her fear was that he wanted Gothic simply to be able to point at its reunification and say that he had managed to right the wrongs that Stark had so egregiously inflicted on them when he'd deemed the city to be a No Man's Land. She feared he wanted it for legacy, not for cause.

"It's only a matter of minutes before the city bursts into flames again."

As if on cue, booming explosions began to echo around the city. Flames lit the sky as what could only be described as wildfire began taking hold. Nikoleta cringed, closing her eyes for a moment as she felt the heat emanating against her back.

There were never any negotiations to be had. Her goal and his boss' were markedly different. She wanted Gothic to survive and thrive. And from all accounts, he wanted to pull Gothic back into the union at any cost to the city and its citizens.

But while their endgames may not have been mutual, they had one thing in current agreement. They wanted to cut down on collateral damage.

"I have no interest in fighting you," she said quietly, even as her beloved city devolved into chaos. "What I want and what Donn want in the immediate future are not mutually exclusive. I want Gothic to survive the night as intact as possible, and I do not trust him, or anybody he sends, one iota. Because if he could demolish this city in order to clear its way back into the union, I have every belief that he would. I hope you can see that. So I won't sit here and fight you, or halt his efforts. But you bet your ass I'm not gonna fall in line like a good little soldier. I won't get in your way or his, I won't stop either you, unless that becomes the only way to protect the citizens of Gothic."

She was about to incline her head to him, strap on a gas mask, and descend into the secured lair beneath Olympus while engaging Aegis protocols, when the ding of the elevator's imminent arrival shattered a terse silence between the two.

Nik immediately tensed and focused. Her short and lithe frame didn't relax when none other than Ivana exited those two doors, and what she did next stripped Nikoleta of any words she would have bothered to utter in the moment.

As the city continued to descend into chaos, the three figures stood on the roof of Olympus, Nik with bated breath. What had begun as a clandestine one-on-one between the Black Bat and the Strix Princess, had quickly become something else entirely; something neither of them had thought to account for.

What happened next, regardless of what it was, would be a game changer.

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#30 Posted by Joey_Destroyer_of_Worlds (3392 posts) - - Show Bio


Joey adored flying. Most of the times, he loved it. The soaring through the skies, the thrill of wind seeping through his hair, the rippling winds making his cape crackle to life. Often, he would fly to relieve himself of stress, lazily strolling around the world like the protector of mankind, pretending that he was Thee Champion or some other godly force. But this was ungodly. This was the opposite of enjoyable. This was hell.

The VTOL shook again as they arrived the city, and nausea shook the boy-god to his core. "Slow down!" He called out to the front. But no change. With a grimace, he held on tight to the overhead strap, the Greek God within his skull screaming as he willed freedom from the plane prison. Shaking his head, Joey's eyes glanced over to the other passengers, who seemed to fair slightly better.

Truth be told, Joey hadn't met the rest of them. This mission, whether it was intended for bonding or not, would really be one of the definitions of what they meant as a team. The only person on the plane he actually recognized was Lichter, and that was through a couple of brief conversations... Definitely not friend material.

But Gothic had to return to the Union. That was a certainty. And if peace couldn't do this, then war would.


Joey nodded, as Lichter gave clear instructions. With a grin, he started to walk backwards off of the ramp, wind immediately catching as he yelled out, "Got it, boss!"

With that, he leaped out, an Olympic level swan dive sending the fifteen year old boy heading straight for the ground. "Alright Z, light me up!" he yelled. No answer. The ground grew nearer, and Joey started to make out the shapes of people, running from the fires. "Z!?" Soon, actual features. The people looked up at him and screamed, in fear of what was going to happen to the jumper from the skies.

"Z!" He screamed, one more time, and the King of Gods heard him this time. A bolt of lightning struck out from the skies and struck him square in the chest, blinding light making everyone that watched look away. When the bolt cleared, a deity stood in it's place, tall and defiant despite what dire odds they faced. "Let's go!" He yelled out, plugging a comm piece into his ear and blasting down the streets, flying close to the ground so that he could intervene in any local crimes.

The fires. Narrowing his eyes, Joey came up with an idea, and smiled as he did so. Zooming over to where the firebombs had struck hardest, he exhaled quickly, before inhaling, zooming past the fires narrowly. The flames shot up as the intense breath was drawn, smoke and ash going into the Destroyer of Worlds like some makeshift vacuum cleaner. The insides of Joey felt hot, blazingly so, like he'd just eaten a hundred habanero peppers, but he managed to zoom over to where a few packs of Road Kings were gathering. Landing on the ground, he raised his arms to prepare, the advanced cars racing towards him regardless of what they imagined would happen.

With a huge blow of breath, the flames that had been literally sucked up from earlier poured out in a torrent, a beam of flame that coated the vehicles, which in turn almost completely vaporized whoever was inside. Satisfied that he had no more of the material within him, he coughed, ashes falling from his perfect lips to the ground below. Beating on his chest, he continually coughed, like a chain smoker, before satisfied that he'd gotten rid of the flame.

"Jesus... Last time I ever do that..."Turning around, he spotted one of the evacuation buses, and people running to get there. "Too slow." He muttered, and zoomed over, grabbing dozens of people at once and neatly placing them in the bus. "C'mon, let's go!" The Prodigy yelled, and even went as far as to lift the buses and carry them safely out of harm's way. "Awaiting further orders, Mr. @lichter." He grinned.

It was going to be a loooooong night.

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#31 Edited by K_Brimstone (902 posts) - - Show Bio


The rocket wailed into the side of The Brick with a bone jarring explosion. The transparent aluminum shattered, showering Stone's Miraclearmor with hot shards and gasses, and the reinforced door crimped in as if a giant had hit it with a haymaker punch. Even threw his helmet Stone was temporarily deafened, only able to hear the high pitched tone of tinnitus.

Even though stunned, he managed to turn the steering yoke against the line of the trench and lurch The Brick out of it, and get out of the line of fire. Still half in a daze he sped toward the fire station, rotary canon aimed to the rear, and willed his head back together. Once in front of the station, Stone switched on the Wet Blanket system, which would block all electronic and communication signals (including his, unfortunately), which would prevent the Red Mask from detonating the explosives in the building.

He watched the rear display for the Blue Blood to show himself. The canon might not have taken him down, but it certainly killed his cloak Stone calculated as he finally wrestled his senses back into place.

He simply didn't have the luxury of taking time to regain them.

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#32 Edited by Sonny_Barbaro (573 posts) - - Show Bio

║▒▒▒▒ Gothic City; USA
║▒▒▒▒ Gothicville District

No Caption Provided

Journal Entry 12:

The cape, as referenced in the initial entry, is the second object I took from the Blaine Park cautionary monument. The cowl and the cape were originally interconnected by some incredibly intricate electronic interaction. Took me the better half of that evening to take them apart. And while I've been using the cowl ever since, the then tattered cape was put aside.

Now that I actually have time (if not the resources [really, I'm using a measuring lens augmented by a really thick lens taken from Mr. Abramowicz old glasses, can't stress this enough]) to look at the damn blanket, I've come to the conclusion that the material (not fabric, as it isn't textile-based) has a kinetic memory that allows it transition into a sturdy, more solid form for gliding or defensive purposes upon recieving a kinetic impulse. I've noticed this after trying to dry it in the wind after cleaning.

The repairs I've managed with my aviable resources don't exactly meet the design quota but I think I could integrate it into the new suit proto---╯


His host's aged apartment trembled at it's eroding foundations as Donny's fearful eyes strayed from his tinkerign table. The measuring lens fell from it's position on his face as the mimetic muscles that once held it laxed into pure shock.“No... Nonononoono! MR. ABRAMOWICZ GET IN THE IMPALA!”, yelled the straightened deliquent out after recollecting himself and already in the midst of a hectic change into his working attire. The only thing that mattered right now was evacuating as many people as possible.

“B-but my pict--”

Donny tumbled down the stairs after stepping into the stairwell while putting on his combat boots. There was no time, no time to be sentimental. Not time to waste on a few bruises. No time... Lying there contorted in the corner of the stairwell and overwhelming dread overcame his very soul.

The dread of hopelessness. Fear of Failure, the very patron of death.

Teeth grinding in defiance as he rose back to his feet.NOW, MARIA!” Shit was serious when Donatello started calling people by their first name.

║▒▒▒▒ Gothic City; USA
║▒▒▒▒ The Press Honor Bridge

The Jet-Black Jalopy tore pavement of an exemplary road out of the city, it's driver not a Bat-clad figure but an older woman evidently pushing every iota of weathered potential out of it's recently cleaned 283 cubic-inch Turbo Fire V-8 on the hightail out of town. Donny's dirtbike directly in front, it rallied the Impala and other Gothicville denizens behind itself. Dozens of rusted cars and only growing as they continued down their path.

Stupid! So. Stupid! I should've been prepared for this.

No Caption Provided

Suddenly straying from the automobile herd, Donny ascended the urban landscape through ruins of various buildings and eventually found himself on the corner of the first building near the bridge. Scorch marks marred the road from the CLF3 erosion that was doused moments before their arrival by one of the select defenders. From his perch, Donatello corrected the traffic towards the cityscape escape all the while having his sight set on the impeding Konite doom. “OVER HERE! THIS WAY!”

Where's the goddamn military? Can't they see people are in dying?

They send one jet. One. Damn. Jet. That's how much we're worth to the US. Cowards.

The salvaged Bat cowl formed a deep frown of seeping anger at the chaotic play unfolding infront of himself. The city burning. Again. Bad guys lurking. Again. Explosions going. Again. A played out formula. Donatello glanced to the road, now mostly empty, and noticed a sideswiped police patrol car.

But we take care of our own.

He swept down to the wreck and stepped down from his post-apocalyptic stallion before quickly tearing the patrol vehicles radio straight out of the dashboard. The would-be-engineer-grad then placed it into his military-grade camping backpack and hooked it up to one of his jury rigged batteries and let the speaker on while placing the microphone into his backpack's breast pocket for increased ergonomy.

Shortly before submerging into the chaos ahead, The 'DIY Vengeance' covered the lower and visible portion of his face with a thick fabric. He subsequently vanished in the Konite debris cloud. And ever so often, littered about his sporadic route towards the city centre, screams of agony could be heard. Accompanied by muffled flashes and roof-bound revvs of a dirtbike.

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#33 Edited by _Dirge_ (3668 posts) - - Show Bio

"So I take it you aren't getting on a transport are ya Sunshine?" The Dublin Devil shook his head as he downed his glass of Dewars in an abandoned bar. Most of it's patrons already on route to President Donn's so called life rafts. "Those transports will be targeted. Someone will make a move on'em. And it will be in a way that completely catches The military off guard." Most of Gothic's gangs were big on perpetuating their so called image. All of these images involved fear. Greatest way to spread fear and demoralize the enemy was to spread terror among the local populace. That meant causing collateral damage. If the Government's transports were to actually succeed in evacuating the populace then Donn and his administration would be lauded as the saviors that their trying to make themselves out to be. Those opposing Donn can't allow that to happen. If Gothic's underworld is destined to lose this battle, then they'll do whatever it takes to drag Donn and his administration down through the piss and shit with'em. Thousands getting killed in the transports would just be icing on the cake.

Arthur meekly laughed as he reached for the bottle that sat on the table between them. His hands were shaking from fear as he poured some of it's contents into his glass and then topped off Vincent's empty glass."I think I'm gonna head on back down to the station. There's some people there who view Gothic as their home." A nervous chuckles escaped his throat as he stared into his glass."They're willing to fight the criminals, the military, the Brahma brotherhood, and whoever else that want's a go. I know I'm dirty. But I'm still a cop. Gothic is my home. Donn and his administration weren't here to fight the Brahma brotherhood when they were at their apex. Shit, most of the gangs were wither assimilated or out right purged by the brotherhood. After the savior came and expelled them our dismal city....well, everything actually got better. The gangs were for the most part to weak to do any real damage. Everything was actually peaceful. It was a weird change of pace Sunshine."

Inwardly, Vincent cringed at the mention of the savior that heroically fought the Brotherhood. She did win. But it was pyhric victory at best. One that broke Abigail Aensland. Vincent tried to push her from his mind. She and her brother had betrayed him. Used him to further their own wants and needs. Sent him on a suicide mission in Venezuela. He only survived because of their mother, Emille Aensland had patched him up and told him the truth. Charles never killed Abigail. It was a lie. One that Vincent fell for. He no longer owed her his life. Charlemagne LeBeau was dead. Emille was free. It didn't matter if the Aensland matriarch had reconnected with her daughter or was furthering her research into her family's bloodline. Vincent was done. Done with the Aenslands, the Knightfalls, and the LeBeaus.

"Yeah, I'm gonna make way back down to the station. Make one last stand with the real heroes of Gothic. It's survivors."

"Do whatever ya want Arthur. This fight changes nothing in the long run. If Donn wins then the gangs that are smart will slither back to the shadows and operate from there. There'll be quick decisive fights for the crown until a new kingpin emerges. It'll be like it was before Stark declared our beloved Gothic no man's land. Nothing will change. The wheel spins on."

"The Mark of Cain."

"What are you going to do Vincent?" It happened quickly, and caught both patrons off guard. Deafening explosions surrounded the pair as blast waves shattered the glass and knocked both drinkers off their feet. The Blind Mamba stood to his feet and walked over to where Arthur landed. "I'm going to pick a fight. It sounds like Satar and his mad dogs are back. I suppose they'll do." Vincent held out his hand and Arthur grabbed his and pulled himself up to his feet."I suppose this is good bye then init?" Vincent flashed a smirk and nodded in agreement. "I suppose it is Arthur. If you gotta go, then give'm hell before you do." "Likewise Vince." And like that, Vincent was left standing alone in the ruined bar. His armor wasn't done. The only weapon he had was the runic spear Gae bolg. His odds weren't good. But then again they never were. He summoned the bloody, barbed lance and walked out into the ruined streets of Gothic for what could be the last time. It didn't matter who got in his way. Be it the brotherhood, the military, a vigilante, or any of the other mad men that flooded to Gothic. "Might as well let the monster out. See what it can do in all of it's glory." Like that The Mark of Cain manifested, giving the Cainite near omniscient sight as he made his way further into the war zone.

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#35 Posted by Dark_Defender_ (82 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter: @k_brimstone@jason_ford@sahi_ The Dark Defender in the middle of his conflict with the Brotherhood notices bullets raining from the sky, it's the damn United States military! They must've viewed the attack from this stupid clan as a rejection of peace and are using the weapons freely. Lucky for the Defender his built in bullet resistant body managed to resist a lot of the shots, but it still wasn't safe. He had to get out of the way of fire! He quickly, made his way into the Defender Mobile. But in all the chaos he noticed the Ghost Crew was outed, they weren't hiding anymore and barely seemed to be holding it together from that attack. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity for revenge against those criminals

The Dark Defender's mobile bursts with it's Nuclear powered engines right towards whatever soldiers they had left on the field, kick them while they're down. The Dark Defender didn't care about giving a far fight, or even an honorable one for that, he just wanted to win. In any way possible.

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#36 Posted by Sahi_ (166 posts) - - Show Bio


Adam knew the convention for this kind of mission was to go in alone, perhaps fight the BBEG alone. But he had instead requested a list of available troops, full access to an armory and garage, and a solemn promise that no one would get mad if he blew up US Military property. He was given... most of those things.

Seven men in total sat in a helicopter. Six wore black body armor, and carried large guns. One wore blue armor, and carried a shield. And as they entered the city, one man turned from a monitor towards the rest. "Traced the message. She's not exactly hiding." Wilson, as Adam saw his name was from his uniform, pointed at a large building in the center of the ruined city.

"Okay, everyone strap on a wingsuit, this thing won't be in the air much longer." And as they turned towards the source of the message, as the roads of Gothic burst into flames, Adam smiled, imagining the look on the face of the cleanup crew after this fight was done.

Sahi was on top of a building, surveying her handiwork, when Adam opened fire. The helicopter's main advantage to him was the large turret in the back, and he sprayed the rooftop with lead. As he did, his men leapt out of the vehicle, in anticipation of the attack no doubt soon to be launched by the Time Siphon. The didn't descend slowly, instead shooting in with wingsuits which they quickly detached as the rolled onto the roof, still clutching their weapons, which they pointed at the Temporal Vampire, while Adam continued to fire. On the roof there were only five, as the pilot had stayed in the 'copter, despite it being a near-certain death-sentence for someone without Adam's nGod physiology.

The bullet storm never made it to Sahi, it was consumed, its time eroded until the bullets were rendered useless or vanished altogether. Sahi tapped into her Force abilities and physically reached out towards the helicopter. She gripped it in Force Telekinesis and sought to fling the craft into the nearest building with enough force to crush both.

No Caption Provided

Successful or not she activated her double bladed temporal blade and spun it in her hands as she turned to face the five wingsuit wonders that now sought to bring her down. "Five against one? Almost fair odds." She smirked and flipped into action, spinning around between the five of them and stepping in to the reach of her blades. She stepped forward to the nearest man and sliced her blade at a downward angle, intending to age him in half from shoulder to hip. Uncaring if she succeeded or not she continued with her fluid motions, stepping and pivoting around from the man she'd just attacked to bring the same end of the blade up and repeat the attack on the next man but from a downward position. She would then spin the weapon around and attempt to drive the blade through the heart of a third man.

Temporal blades aged what they touched virtually instantly. Organic matter gave way quickest of all, decaying to a state of advanced decomposition in less than a heartbeat. Though a slice from the blade would look like a cut from a distance, up close it left behind only desiccated flesh and no smooth edges. Like the weapon of a Guardian it would cut through most materials, though there were some that were resistant or otherwise immune to the aging process, most people didn't walk around with them on and that's what she was counting on as she made her quick attacks. If her opponents proved tougher than this, she had plenty more power to tap into.

No Caption Provided



Elsewhere the Brotherhood was not quiet. Joey's attack was brutal, it ruined several of their advanced vehicles and slaughtered many of the Mad Dogs driving them...but it was not enough. From the smoking inferno strode a man who's durability was unquestioned and who's ugliness was not far behind. He walked with purpose, with the stride of a confident and powerful man. Joey leaving was a mistake as The Road King strode from the wreckage unblemished and untouched even by the CIF3 inferno. Behind him the rest of his armada roared forward. He pointed to the city and said nothing. The armada drove in, penetrating deep into the city. They aimed for the gatherings of fleeing civilians.

Three cars drove towards the sounds caused by the do it yourself Bat @sonny_barbaro. The cars roared their challenge and weapons strapped and bolted to their front ends opened fire on the dirt bike. Machine guns spat metal death in his direction , the more advanced weapons were held back, used elsewhere in the Armada by more elite soldiers. The Mad Dogs fired with wild abandon, seeking to cut down this defender of the innocent and leave his ruined body for all to see.

No Caption Provided

Elsewhere Mad Dogs had been stopped or cut down, but they were only the vanguard, behind them roared additional vehicles and from them climbed the Konite Kings. The Brotherhood shifted its focus from civilians, who were now being evacuated, to the transports that carried them. As the Stark buses lifted off The Road King sent the signal. Stolen Stinger Missile systems were shouldered, targets acquired and triggers pulled. Dozens of guided missiles launched into the air, aiming to take down as many Stark buses as possible...not to achieve an objective, but simply to kill. Each missile, though built around the world famous Stinger design, delivered a vastly different payload. The warhead itself was coated in a thin layer of Vibranium for the purposes of penetrating the initial armor plating of the target. The payload it delivered? CIF3. The last of their CIF3 reserves would, if the armor was penetrated, be sprayed into the interior of each craft. It only took a tiny amount to do a great deal of damage. If the armor was not penetrated? Well, the bus would still be on fire, coated in flames that would burn metal. The Konite itself continued to spread unchecked. Mad Dogs breathed eagerly and turned newly acquired mutant powers on any defenders that stood in their way.


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#37 Edited by Stella_Star (456 posts) - - Show Bio


"That's Konite, in aerosol form. You breathe it in, you're getting extracted and treated. Luckily, I have masks for you. Prepare for landing," he said, pulling his own cowl down over his face.

"Stella, get innocents out of the way of that cloud. Mask on, all times. Clear the blocks. Load them onto the buses, or just run them out of the city. Don't push yourself too hard," he emphasized, producing a small facemask which could be applied under her traditional attire. It would protect her from any chemical residue, and keep her vision clear as well. "I believe in you."

"You can count on me, boss!" Stella replied, stiffening her body and saluting to the CIA Director. Unfamiliar with the formalities, she didn't wait for a salute in return, and took off running, and jumped off the side of the building, doing a backflip, and shouting needlessly loudly "Woohoo!" As she fell, she placed the mask on her face, and her left index finger, replaced by an ivory crystal, glowed blindingly and surrounded Stella in an aura of white, and all around her, all of time slowed to a crawl, until the whole world seemed to stop altogether.

Stella began to run down the building, and when she neared the ground, she extended a hand to brace herself for the flip she intended to do to keep her momentum. But Stella, unfamiliar with her powers, had poor form, and when she tried to flip her body over to continue running, she landed on her face, feeling disgraced, but altogether unharmed. Her hard light aura had protected her from any harm the fall would have caused her, added to the fact that gravity was not able to affect her quite as much in her time distortion field.

Though she would have been able to sustain the field for quite a while, and in quite a large area, she resorted to only using it when she saw it was immediately necessary to save lives, as the mystic power was very taxing, which led to her underestimating herself. She had in her arms a little girl who was severely injured, and ran as fast as she could to the airbus, running past bullets that were stationary in the air coming from thugs of Gothic and soldiers of the U.S. battling for the city. Past them, she passed a frozen explosion, and hurdled a chunk of bricks from the building, and then juking a falling billboard. She almost ran into a cloud of Konite but narrowly sdrifted to a stop, and turned to keep running to the left before she reached the cloud with the child, as the child's face was unprotected.

Finally, she made it to the airbus atop an building, when she returned to the regular passage of time. She said to the man in the transport "She's bleeding from the abdomen." and handed her off to them, only leaving when she saw that she was getting necessary medical attention. As she turned, the airbus took off, and she ran to a tall building near to her. When she reached the top, she saw the missiles fired by the Mad Dogs, and when she noted their trajectory, she exclaimed "Nonononono!" and turned backward, running and jumping off the corner of the roof, slowing time all across Gothic City again, and leaping down to one of the missiles, she took a hold of its tail midway through her freefall, and threw it as one would a tomahawk toward another missile, causing the both of them to explode midair.

Still falling, she turned her body to take to running down the side of a neighboring building, and made a wide turn dangerously close to the ground, dragging her fingers across the concrete as if for show. She ran back up the building, gravity not being strong enough to bring her down, though it did feel like running up a hill. Stella got to the top of the building, and ran from its rooftop to another, which she jump up to, her ascent being more like that of one jumping on the moon. On seeing the city from so high in the sky, she became sick to her stomach from all of the destruction and carnage that was taking place that night.

She rose steadily until she made it to one of the evacuation airbuses, which she grabbed onto the side of, before jumping back down to another missile. She dove with her hands to the front end of its neck, grabbing it, and twirling around with it, before breaking a fin off of the back of the missile, throwing it down to the Mad Dogs that launched it. Far below her was a flagpole, which she readied herself to catch, and with which she swung back into the air.

She rose just in front of another, missile, which she redirected in a path parallel to the ground. She continued to run across rooftops and make astounding leaps, only possible through her time-altering abilities. She made passes at each and every one of the missiles until they were all directed at a certain point above the city, at which they would intersect and impact each other, rather than their intended targets. After her last leap, having removed every missile from their path, she fell again, but this time could not find a safe way to take the landing. She could only land harshly on the ground, though even then not as forcefully as in regular time, but only as hard as though she had fallen a story or two, which her aura could more than protect her from.

When she hit the ground, the halting of her movement caused time to resume, at which point the missiles struck each other, just as Stella intended. She slowly picked herself up off the ground, and seeing her work was fruitful, she pumped her fist, exclaiming "Yuss!" and leaping to her feet. But no doubt, such a display of time alteration would not go unnoticed by @sahi_...

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#38 Posted by Strigidae_57 (623 posts) - - Show Bio

No Caption Provided

Oil and grease stained fingers hammered the plastic tiles of a weathered keyboard as the 57th Strigidae pushed his renovated labtop to its limits. Limits deceptively masked by its visually savage condition and exposed motherboard, yet crudely patched together with the technical grace of a new money millennial. Once again showcasing the Scavenging Savant's utilitarian expertise, maximizing complete efficiency with the absolute minimal amount of advantageous resources . Be it time, equipment, or even thought.

Without deviated vision he coldly spoke, "Take this right." his body violently jolting as the front end of his mobile command center, a 386 cab style commercial tractor unit, blasted into, and through, yet another barricade of dismantled vehicles along the apocalyptic road. Like a scene from the Purge the craziest of Gothic's lunatics had taken to the streets indulging in the feverish hysteria caused by the resurrected Brotherhood's dispersion of the psychoactive narcotic, Konite.

"Maaaaan they efficient huh?" the Strigidae's compensated chauffeur rhetorically stated. His commentary directed towards the unbelievably smooth evacuation of numerous civilians. Gothic's skyline was filtered with aerial safe-havens "Makes ya wonder why they waited so long if it was this simple..... People been out here suffering for a minute son, and they sayin all this time they could have been swooped in and shipped pedestrians out this mofo in less time den it takes to drop a shit?"The driver's anger did little to sway the Strigidae's concentration however, his eyes remained obsessively in tune with the illuminated devise in his lap.

Dead air lingered before the Ultimate Utilitarian scuffed with shallow gravitas, "Trojan horse." Puzzled, the driver questioned, "Trojan horse? Like biblical and shit?""No." sniped the Strigidae. " As in hundreds of Gothic refugees loaded up and freely flown into the United States. In their rush to remove their greatest disadvantage, they've mistakenly digested the poison pill that is Gothic. It will eventually metastasize. This place was never a prison, anybody who wanted to leave abandoned this city along time ago. Look around, all that was ever left were the carnival crazies, the criminal cancers. Trojan horse." There came another pause in the conversational exchange as the 57th Strigidae pressed a finger to his ear and listened

..........."Okay boss, I've attempted to monitor his flight trajectory but its not easy, whomever he is he's a competent pilot. And that aircraft, I havent seen anything like it. Not even y.......damn, sorry. Where was I...oh yes, I'm locked on. She's all yours. Go get em!"......................

"Stop here" flashing a small nuanced smirk, "You know what to do" the simple expression prompting the driver to shoulder a large 'cylinder' like apparatus and depart the cab. But the Strigidae remained, now encased in complete silence for optimum focus.

Again his fingers rapidly fired upon the helpless keys of the device, instantly taking cyber control of his aerial assassin, the MidKite or MK. A semi-autonomous UAV boasting an impressively low radar profile and an assortment of surgically accurate munitions. Utilizing a favored method of onion-routing as to profit from digital anonymity, the cyber-foot print would be nearly impossible to uncover. And thanks to the Secret Strigidae's teenage techno-titan, he now found himself in proper position to engage.

@lichter: Rolling outta the clouds like a surgical dart, the MK dive-bombed towards the stylishly crafted VTOL. However it did not open fire with its one of a kind 22LR multi-barrel mini-gun, capable of screaming 3,000 rpm's at the vehicle while in the thralls of a theatrical spin. Instead it strategical swung into a pursuit position near the rear. Expropriating its momentum and exploiting its smaller size and maneuverability. Slicing between the dilapidated buildings which continued to evolve as a result of the prevailing carnage, fires, and explosions while tailing the unknown pilot.

Closing and storing the device in a handmade burlap satchel after having neatly checked the off-brand plastic watch on his right wrist, there was a swift dismount from the pragmatically armored cab. A quick swipe of the hand immediately brought the tattered remains of a middle eastern Keffiyeh up from around the neck and over the mouth.

No Caption Provided

Crossing the steam clouded streets the Strigidae's chauffeur appeared, promptly placing the aforementioned 'cylinder' on the exercised shoulder of his temporary employer. One, two, three claustrophobic echoes resonated and rocked the military launcher as it let loose with a trinity of bifurcating missiles. Targeting the unknown Director of the CIA with complementary accuracy and premeditated targeting. "Lets move." Unwilling to waste any time watching the full fruition of his timed assault, the duo took off towards the next destination under the feeble cover of combat confusion as a result of the reinvigorated Brotherhood's devastating act of terrorism.

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#39 Posted by Hound_of_War (3944 posts) - - Show Bio


“It’s all I needed to hear”.

As he finished his sentence, the elevator opened up with no other than the Strigidae’s finest. Almost instantly, he took a step in front of Nikoleta as a barrier between her and the ex-Shogun of Venezuela, knowing well that Ivana would snap her neck without flinching if she felt like she was being disrespected. Not that he believed Nik couldn’t take care of her own well-being, surviving in Gothic for this long was feat of strength that shouldn’t be undermined, but someone who was assigned by others the title of “world’s greatest warrior” wasn’t a person who they should treat as their everyday assassin.

‘If the evening couldn’t get worse. I have to alleviate two people with opposite backgrounds and ideals, and somehow get them to leave the building without getting hurt in the process. I would settle for Ivana not slitting Nikoleta’s throat. At the moment, I’m tempted to let them fight it out.’

From his wrist, Julian activated a small device to shut off all cameras and recording devices in the floor. His lip’s side slightly rose, revealing a small sense of contempt. A few years ago, he would have to cut the camera wires one by one to deactivate them and he still couldn’t have taken care of the recording devices that an individual carried.

The 21st century had its advantages.

“Someone is trying to manipulate you, Ivana. To what objective, I am not sure yet.”

“Think about it for a second. They came to your assistance against the nGods when they attacked. They weren’t obligated to help you. They could have simply watched as they tore your nation down. I was even there fighting alongside your army.”

“When did this administration truly make mutant kind seem like a threat? When they freed Iceland and made it a place where mutants can live freely without the fear of being persecuted? Why would the President strengthen mutant kind in this way if he was only going to destroy it all afterward?”

He paused.

No Caption Provided

“I’ll tell you a joke.”

With his thumb, he pressed a safe locking mechanism above his neck but beneath his head to unlock his onyx cowl. Revealing his rejuvenated face, free of battle scars and trauma. The facial chisels between he and Quintus being almost identical.

“My name is Julian Knightfall. I am the father of all Knightfalls and I will probably be the last one alive. if you want to kill my family, my dog. my butler, my best friend, and anyone close to me. You can’t. Because they’ve already been killed by men like Charlemagne LeBeau. I’ve managed to stay alive for this long the same way that you can see again.”

“I despise the Registration Act and what it stands for more than you can ever begin to comprehend. But right now is not the time or place to have this discussion. The Brahma Brotherhood are making their move against Gothic. Curve is just around the corner. How long until Satar resurfaces again and only leaves more bodies for us to bury?”

Julian put his cowl back on.

I can guarantee you this, Ivana: The Registration Act won’t be here for long. Donn will have it nullified.” The Strix would have to fall in line, especially now with the Strigidae’s elite team currently pointing their swords at them.

“Now, you can either help me take Gothic city back or you can try to kill me. I can’t afford to lose any more time talking. Even if I’m Knightfall rich.”

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#40 Edited by Soliton (1365 posts) - - Show Bio

Don't do something stupid.

Solemnly, she laid her arms on top of the buses window, looking down on the city she had come to know as Gothic. Once again, it was burning, and on fire. Something had plagued her mind, a gnawing thought that was thought better evaded.

Simply to help.

A criminal cesspool as it was, Gothic is a city in which good people lived, mixe with the bad. A place where there people's homes and all that they had was. Their lives. And everything was all-so out of their hands and taken away as they were tossed around by whatever force was in power. The Brotherhood, the probably just as corrupt gang run pseudo-governments and now the United States, who from her perspective, had a past of being it's own brand of dark and shady, and might only be somewhat better than the forces their fighting at best.

Still, they're saving people, and political agendas aside, that's all that mattered. The lives of the people, good and bad. And if they so valued these lives as to go through these methods, she could hardly see any other side, be it vigilante or otherwise, to take, than those of the people.

"Jeager two three enemy target lock. Taking evasive maneuvers."

Her eyes flew open from it's dream-like state as she was tossed back in the vehicle, it leaning aside as it warheads went off midflight after being thrown off course expertly by the vehicle's pilots. Vibranium tips thrown some miles away. But, skill alone wouldn't be able to compensate necessarily for the fact that there were only so many flairs a vehicle could hold. Rubbing the side of her arm and her head in pain, she stood up, looking down at the relative position of the ground.

"Enemy appears to have multiple MANPADS capable teams stationed throughout the city. Request assistance."

"Wait, what are you?"

Her hand went over the pod bay door button, electricity ebbing through it, as she ran forward. A man from behind her grabbed by her shirt collar, bringing her to abrupt halt. She spun around, slapping the man's hand and giving him a minor jolt, causing his arm to recoil back. The door was almost closed, and time was almost out. One last dash for it, her speed enhanced as she barely made out,the door halfway closed by the time she exited, as she tumbled out of the craft and began to free fall into the air.

Her breathing was frantic and her chest welled up to the point that she couldn't scream as she fell for hundreds of feet.

Focus. FOCUS!

The air around her body ionized, ambient temperature controlled as she gained a degree of propulsion through a powerful form of ionic pulse. It wasn't nearly enough for her to hover, let alone zip around the air at any speed that could rival aircraft or missile. But, it was enough to slow her down and prevent her from going splat against the ground if she didn't act.


The second wave of missiles came, and fists clenched into balls. Particles swirled around her in the form of light and electricity, valence electrons ripped from their orbitals, as everything flowed ambiently. The electromagnetic spectrum was quite literally at her fingertips, a tool for her to exploit like most any number of machines could and did. But she could project and emit, nearly any frequency as an effect of her ability to control electrons, and she chose the one with which would have the greatest effects on the missiles. Infared.

Her hands held out, and from her body, a bright red light filled the air, ambient area about her body heating up. As every bit of missile flew wildly about in the air. The light show lasted for only a couple of seconds before coming to abrupt end. Before she hit the ground.


She called out to the anti-aircraft team she'd landed near, standing among destroyed debris, energy ebbing all around her healthy and more able body. Her hands snapped out to them. Pure Lightning was inefficient, but light and lasers, were less so. And so, she fired a laser in the form of a pulsed energy projectile, firing with actually, non-lethal intent. She used such energy that frequencies as microwaves, to go through armor as if it weren't there and to cause a field of exploding plasma at skin level.

The result would be the target would be paralysed, and she fired rapidly at numerous targets without need to move her hand.

Immediately after, she ran, emitting bright light to blind any marksman near by. For her, any one bullet, a stray round? It could mean death. And contrary to popular belief, most full metal jacket bullets aren't magnetic, as Amani had come to painfully learn....

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#42 Posted by K_Brimstone (902 posts) - - Show Bio

@jason_ford: @lichter: @dark_defender_:

The Blue Blood hadn't shown himself for a bit, and Stone couldn't afford to wait, even though it was unlikely the enemy agent was unlikely to have disengaged. The soldier had to forcibly kick open the driver's door after the rocket had deformed it so badly, and Stone rolled out of it sweeping up SABR Lase Rifle. The Blue Blood had taken a nearly point blank barrage from the autocannon which was designed to take out other armored vehicles. He might be able to move fast, but nothing moved faster than a star hot beam of light.

Stone side walked into the fire station earning him alarmed looks from the already alarmed station crew. Small wonder...the city was going up, around them, all their electronics including their radios, had just blinked out (thanks to Stone's Wet Blanket system), and some guy that look liked he stepped out of a HALO game had just barged in holding a gun.

"Listen," Stone barked using a command voice directed at the station's Captain, "There are bombs in this building, and I don't know if you heard but there are US forces set to help bring Gothic City back into the Union. I'm sure you've noticed all the chaos going on and the city is going to need you. I'm here to make sure it's safe for you to do that."

He looked around at the various reactions of the fire fighters in the station, making sure his message was being at lease absorbed by most of them at least.

"More good news. There's a terrorist outside who's going to try to set those bombs off, I'm also here to make sure that doesn't happen. I need your people to tear this place apart and find those bombs so I can disarm them after I take care of this guy."

"Who are you again?" the Captain asked after exactly two seconds of consideration.

Stone put his helmeted face a few inches from the understandably hesitant Captain's face.

"My name is Stone. Captain we have zero time for this. If I wanted this place blown up it would be blown up. Get your people moving before they're all dead. With luck, I'll be back."

Kyle turned and slid onto his side, opening the glass door, sticking only his head, one shoulder, and the SABR panning about to search for the Blue Blood. Somewhat behind him, over the ever present roar of CIF3 fires, he heard autocannon fire from the sky an airborne platform firing toward the ground about fifteen or so blocks away. Several rockets soared up toward it, and one hit then it veered off deeper into the city. In the distance Stone could make out more surface to air missile fire.

One mission at a time. He focused, every sense and second of training and experience tuned to defeating his meta human opponent.

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#43 Edited by Lass (82 posts) - - Show Bio


It's not a curse..

She looked down at her cellphone receiving a message from Lichter. Accompanying her dad, Sara wanted to stay at his side..Not because she was worried for his health, he always refused to die. Being called out for duty, she was scared for herself..to see and face what Shot had to overcome over the years, but the lass was determined to believe in her fathers way to never back down.. Walking out of the room after receiving her fathers answer. She just wanted to see what he had to say but what he gave to her was just typical of him. It was a simple gesture, the response to why he fought the big fight. The dad simply expressed a face to his crying daughter before she was called out for duty. Leaving the hospital room, she would finally take the mantle of her father. Sara understood why, it was simply meant to be but she had to see it for herself. She had to see through his eyes that this world was worth sacrificing for. To experience the corruption that her father thrived to fix.. the curve that fell into darkness, to bring it back to hope..to see the world still was good inside..

"He just flicking smiled"

It's a blessing..

To see that people could smile again.. But as she gazed on the performance that the city had smoked in the ignition of battle, this place was just pain and tears. Sara wasn't as experienced as her father. She didn't know the pain to fail someone, the agony to know that you could save the people that were scared, people who were begging for your help. The innocents who have been scared their entire lives were crying and wailing their lost and muffled voices, begging for a champion to save them from the living nightmare they had to bare every night and day. To fear against those who were stronger, who used their strength against the weak. The feeling of fear was entirely different than what she grew up with. The fear to accidentally destroy other peoples homes, level an entire street, nuke an entire city with just a lift of her efforts. Everything was weak to her, but what she knew as a curse, was a virtue in this new world that she saw.

What she saw in the small smiles from the people on the buses was enough for her to understand what her dad fought for. Using her strength to protect those who didn't have the gifts that we had, to serve the people who were unfortunate and suffering, to shield the ugliness from the demons that tried to haunt them. The smiles and looks in their eyes filled her passion. They didn't see them as some super freak, they didn't see the caged little girl, they didn't see her as just another government weapon. There view of her as a hero meant that she could actually mean something to the world except for a loose cannon ready to fire at the ground below. Instead, it made her understand that she was bound to press the trigger eventually, but when it happened, Use it for good! Aim it at the right people!

The girl who now had some fire inside of her gave a thumbs up as the speedster passed by her chasing the missiles. (@stella_star)

"Sara, operate at your discretion. Unknown combat entities are to be presumed hostile until otherwise identified. Once again, prioritize civilians and the airbuses."

Taking a deep breath to relief some of the stress she was building up, Sara would be seen tending to the gold flowing hair that shined. Her hand gathered her hair back and tied a ponytail "Isn't this the worst group date or what.." The girl spoke to her teammates trying to subdue the gloomy environment with a typical joke. In the hardest of times, you just have to laugh a little bit, it eases the tension. "I was expecting a zoo.."She remarked at the hordes of zombies below that could be heard as she talked.."or a barbecue."The smell of people on fire from the direction of joey the god child.


The Konite itself continued to spread unchecked. Mad Dogs breathed eagerly and turned newly acquired mutant powers on any defenders that stood in their way.

Finished talking, danger finally queued at the perfect time. Resurfacing from the smoked barrels a pack of bandits were rushing towards her direction..walking into the area protected by her watch. Jumping down from the buildings above, she was just another defender that would block their path. Bowing, the young blonde introduced herself. "Hi, you should walk away now." her voice teased them as if they were just comparable to a class of children. "It is most recommended" She said as she aimed her right gauntlet towards them, its large barrel facing them down with a orange cinder inside. "Cause..You know.. or else you'll go boom~" She smirked. It wasn't intimidating at all, it was more so a call for battle, cause it was the only thing she knew how to do.

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#44 Posted by Jason_ford (1100 posts) - - Show Bio

@k_brimstone: @lichter: @dark_defendor_:

(Ok, guess I should post)

The dark defender might have trouble finding them. They were all trained to dissipear, and had the quipment to do so. And all, except one Blue Blood, had retreated to a more secluded part of the sewers until farther orders were made. That very Blue Blood would be the brunt of Jason's assault on three people, an extremely difficult feat even for the enhanced soldier that he was. If Dark Defendor looked for them hard enough, he'd discover the Blue Blood around a fire station.

As for Brimstone, it wouldn't be long before he saw action again. The Blue Blood had reloaded the rocket launcher. But he didn't need to take out the station just yet, first he aimed it for @lichter again firing off just one rocket at the annoying government agent. Then quickly leaping two stories to a bar to swing himself an extra story to the roof. Now it was Kyle Brimstones turn. He quickly tried to set off the bombs with a detonator, failed. Must be jammed. He'd have to move quickly as Brimstone probably noticed him by now. So he pulled out his pistol and just set off several shots for where one of the bombs were, any movement and they'd explode, and a bullet would do just fine. The Blue Blood hoped it wouldn't detonate the explosives closer to him, as the bombs were set up just about everywhere.

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#45 Posted by K_Brimstone (902 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter: @dark_defender_: @jason_ford:

Stone came up to a knee and put his back to the brick awning of the fire station entrance. He noted and followed the Blue Blood's rocket fire, and the blur that announced the enemy's leaps across rooftops. The soldier let his training and instincts take over as he tracked the enemy with the SABR rifle. Before he could fire, the Blue Blood blasted several pistol shots from the roof across from him. They shots took Stone by surprise, mainly because they weren't directed at him.

Brick dust, and concrete flared in several places followed by a shattering explosion. A bomb next to the station went up with thundering force, collapsing part of the entrance to the far side engine garage, blocking it, and demolishing the furniture store next to it. Stone himself was shielded from the majority of the blast wave by the brick awning, the Miraclearmor wasn't even taxed taking care of the rest.

Stone prayed there was no one in there.

The soldier cradled the SABR in his arms searching for the Blue Blood as the dust rolled through the street. His HUD was only able to give him normal view because of the Wet Blanket, which fortunately would also interfere with the Blue Bloods targeting gear, so he couldn't get a target lock, but it would be a cold day in Hell before Kyle Brimstone relied solely on electronic targeting.

He finally spied the Blue Blood crouched behind the brick abutment of a roof across the street, doubtless searching for another bomb to shoot. With no other movement Stone squeezed the trigger, lancing a beam of star hot light through the brick like butter which should bisect the Blue Blood, leaving him in two neat, if gory, pieces.

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#46 Posted by Ninjaboss123 (1376 posts) - - Show Bio

Looking down I can see people trying to evacuate but are pinned down. Cops holding down a gang but seemed outgunned. The pedestrian had no escape and would be killed if I didn't act.

Diving down gliding and landing harshly with a combination oftge suit and my hardened bones I role forward grabbing someone leaping out of the corsairs. (Forgive me if I misspelled that XD)

There is a lot of shooting on both sides. I can see four cops, make that three. One of the cops fell to the ground injured as another cop went to help.

One of the civilians, a boy crying for his Mommy ran into the gunfire. There's nothing I could do except throw myself Infront of him. An armor piercing round to the side of my face and shoulder. God they sting and my vision on my Left was blurry making me rely on my right.

"No more games," I say using my fast reflexes cutting them down. My skul being partially visible. In anger and frustration I stab the last guy through the heart. The cops and the civilians looking in horror.

Oh god what have they witnessed..

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#47 Edited by Lucia_Aurelius (308 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter: @joey_destroyer_of_worlds:

'Gothic City always seems to live out a pattern. It's denizens talk of how, every other day, there was some end of the world shtick happening, as if trying to finally kill off the dying city. Whether it was the Brahma Bull, Satar, some alien god, or just some psychotic clown who wanted to watch the world burn, this city did act like a place of eternal turmoil. But it was true, by this point they had far surpassed the biblical phrase of '10 plagues'. Perhaps more like 20. There was a particular habit of destruction that rang through its odor filled air. You could feel the history of pain and suffering that this place had lived through just by walking down the crowded streets, looking at cold faces of those who have been through hell on earth.'

'And yet, in something that could be called ironic, Gothic City never died. It limped, no it hoveled forth for no true reason. It had been beaten, broken beyond repair, yet it stubbornly continued. It had long been corrupted, even before it left the union, before the world turned its back on the once prosperous metropolis. Perhaps this shows the true courage of those who have lived through it all, or maybe the city is an addiction that, no matter how times it abuses the ones who use it, is continually drawing more into its snare.'

'In either case, it hardly mattered; every time it was saved, the people seemed to not care, the city returning to the hell hole it was.'

'My name, is Lucia Aurelius. I...died awhile back. To anyone who was there, you'll know it's true when I say it was...rather gruesome. On that day, I stood my ground. Not just for myself, but for all of those who were pushed around, manipulated and terrorized in Gothic City. I impaled the Baabda Beast, and spilled his blood upon the ground. However, I too had my blood stained. I fell that day, the final victim of Satar's attack. I died standing for what I had believed in. I was an idealist. I believed in hope where there was none, that there was a light in the darkness. I believed that the city had a purpose, and that, through my actions, through my sacrifice, I was ensuring a better future for it. Life's pretty cruel that way isn't it? I give my life for them, the ultimate sacrifice as they say. And what do they do, how is it honored? What. Do. They. DO!?'


'This city...it deserves to burn. It deserves to die....'

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The air is still, the breath of city held impatiently. It gives this retched city an eerie feeling, a sense of dread that hung high in the night sky above. The question isn't if blood will be spilled, but when. All waited for the inevitable. Who would throw the first stone? Was it they who claimed to be saviors, those who called this filth home, or would it simply be someone who just wanted to watch the world burn. he waning moon did little to alleviate the mood, its silver rays dancing on the streets bellow, making the city naked for all to see.

Then it began. Explosions ruptured what little beauty Gothic City held, cascading it once more into darkness as ash and dust blanketed the buildings, as if to hide what was about to happen from God himself. It was sin that held Gothic City afterwards. Hell unlike that of the past rose, as open war was made, whether on the ground or the sky. Tainted evil rose from beneath @doctor_wheatley, bringing with him monsters made of the warped flesh and bone of victims old and new. Angels fell from the sky @rapax, the Brahma Brotherhood rose from the darkness @sahi_, criminals took to the streets, @jason_ford, and the states came to take back what they believed was theirs @stella_star@joey_destroyer_of_worlds@lass@lichter@hound_of_war

Despite what this city has done to me, I choose to give them something; a spectacle unlike that of which they have ever seen before. At the limits of the city, and at the birth of the flames that now bathed the city, I scattered to the wind.

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Civilians and combatants alike would see before them something strange, a sight that many would describe as majestic. Carrying no oddity on them, s soft breeze would brush against those around as across the entire city, filling every alleyway, rose petals would fall, as if from seemingly out of nowhere. Red as the blood that stained the ground, the flickering light of fire reflected off their surface, captivating onlookers. Slowly, gently, they passed on through the city, aided by the wind.

At the evac sight, people saw the rose petals fall. People all around walk over the petals, some brushing them off, or some being pushed to the gutters of the city. Some of them were grabbed from the air, or some would fall into the openings. With the buildings, cars, people and buses covered with petals, civilians lined into the evacuations buses.

And it was from one of those petals, the one that that man carried with him, or the one the fell into the hatch, that I would strike. The bus would take off into the air, and as it did, the petals across the city would disappear. From that one rose petal I rise, smiling before my audience.

"Don't worry, your savior is here!" I'm practically salivating from the mouth, my red scythe glowing as I lunge forth, and all other noise is soon overtaken by screams of agony, as I feast.

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The bus's rotors malfunction, probably because I kind of wrecked the inside of the damn thing. But I don't intend to see the crash landing. Crescent Moon's edge cuts through the metal like butter. Sticking my head out the hole I just made, I see my next target. Down bellow was the one called Joey.Smiling, I leap out, a blur of motion as I intend to land next to him, the bus exploding behind me. "Hey, wanna play?" In my hand, I crush my last victims still beating heart, a blood stained smile smearing my face.

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#48 Edited by Doctor_Wheatley (3226 posts) - - Show Bio


Waiting for the day that my mind says it's had enough..

Don't take it away from me..

‘All this city is meat. That’s all you are to me.’ Good and bad doesn’t matter through the oasis of his reality. The oddity of the Angels being could only babble and think of was the betwixt of the two powers. The extent of his quiddity impeded the fleshomancers mind to understand the difference of “good” and “evil” It was a labyrinth that never it scrounged the ability to muster and try to learn. All it cared about was the blood they waged war against, it was the only thing it knew and their battlefield was boiling it to the point of no return. Constantly knocking and kicking the door that warranted his comeuppance.

Two eyes anchored at the front, the haunting presence reached out towards the door, trying to grasp onto the arrival but all of their actions just made him lost in an ocean of thoughts. The tides that contested his reality of sanity salted against his feet. Tempering the lambent smile that the taunted being was slightly holding onto. Feeling them siphoning the blood away from the veins of his city. Slowly rising and washing away the gowk of the flesh manipulators personality. Drying the city of the meat he held onto was to scald and burn away the fuse that held the flash weavers mercy. Leashing and dragging the sheep away from the magnitude of love that it mistakes for imprisonment. The doctor had to see who was causing such an amicable act against his goodwill, the flesh manipulator had to face the zealot that believed hurting him was for the better. Placing the presences view against the eye hole of the knocking door it would see the eyes of God.

Her eyes would attempt to create turmoil inside the mind who though himself as a paragon. The penance stare traveled through the tunnel of the hole and into his delirious mind, where its properties would be lost in his absolute insanity. An acutely disturbed mind that believes his work as art, that felt pain as pleasure, A mind that gave death as a relief. It would retell the haunting presence of all the miracles and fairy tales he had grown into the cancerous city. Planting the seeds of his work, their pain and blood would moist the city dirt that grew his ambitions. It showed him that their claim against his meat was chopping down the trees that he put so much effort into making..The fruits of his labor that sheltered the sheep of the city was stampeded amongst the fire of their weaponry. Its structure would be ravished allowing the wolves a passage through the destroyed fence and began to drag his herd away from his grasp.

Remember the time when you said “Son it will be alright” The black figure touched the boy with twisted wires that gave him the friendship that he loafed for. Striking back this memory as the angelic presence smited his physical body, The effervescent of his bubbling clay matched his victims memory

Remember the time when you said “Son it will be just fine” The black figures voice tried to soothe the perspective of the victims memory but all it did was tell the crying soul that it was about to die. Shrieking at the multiple entries that imitated the moons blades entering into his bone.

Remember the time when you said “Son we will dine” The black figure held a constructed toy that rapidly shot out a barrage of needles that represented the skies hellfire that salted his flesh with its greeting projectiles.

Why are you doing this..

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The Gods misunderstood the fallen angel. Trying to torment the flesh shepherd with everything he’s done, it was supposed to relate the sadist towards the pain of his victims, but it just made him so much stronger..it just showed what he wanted to see. The memories of his bonds and relationships that he had felt with his playthings. Oversighting the penances stare as a warning instead of poisoning the black soul. The children of the city were being taken away, but they were already at the point of no return…He let loose the barks and growls that were eager to chase away the wolves that preyed on his meat that rightfully belonged to him.

I just want to feel loved..

You set us on fire, you'll burn with us..

I'll ignite the wolves that take away my love..

The jaws that already had a tight hold on the necks of his people was the trigger that broke his emotional state. ‘If I can’t have them, you can’t have them’ it was a simple mentality, a simple rule in warfare that everyone was vulnerable to. The doctor would grab the knob of the door allowing the raiders to pillage his home. They were all monsters to him, Untying the tendons and knots that anchored his flesh to the city. Trying to exile the presence away from the city they have already claimed as their own. This was his family, how dare they try to skin them alive. Bleeding out the city veins, he would rather kill his own family than let them be taken away and eaten by the monsters that swarmed his home..and that’s what he planned to do.

The civilians, his love, his blood, his meat have all been living above his taint for too long. Living right above his laboratory, the embrace of the doctors telepathic grip was unremovable. The ability to sew and weave his virus into the clay of those the it had painted with his presence..all of Gothic tainted meat had him inside of them, their corrupted flesh lingered stronger than the rest of the world. Easily directing his conscious. The haunt that stained the blood of his cattle began to rot and mold. Creating a maelstrom within the enemy lines, The Maestro of flesh's absolute organic control had finally exploded as the fuse ignited everything it had. He was saving them for the day he needed a presentation and this would be his opportunity. It would be the last chance to love them again.

"I was this city..you took it away..you took the meat away" Mumbling to himself..The presence wanted his meat refunded, but they would decline..so he would waste it. He would waste it all!

One by one, the school buses that held the blessed meat would quickly he overwhelmed with his telepathic embrace. The Angel Of Restoration was upon them, cleansing them of their minds, restoring their bodies into its full potential. Falling under the fleshomancers presence..this was not seen as controlling them, this was mercy killing. The infected would cry for him as they slayed and smeared the walls, desiccating everything they had hoped for. The free minded citizens inside quickly attacked each other, becoming a obelisk of weaponized limbs. Deformities of sharpened bones, enlarged jaws and inhuman talons that reaped and ate. The buses that were vessels of freedom slowly turned into another trapped cage. They were only out of the frying pan, now they were in the fire. This was as painful to him as it was to them. Self destructing all the vessels and friendships he had close to his heart..this is what they made him do..Is this what they wanted? Something as vile as eating away your own mother, eating yourself away..The act he had committed made him feel sick. It was something that actually disturbed the doctor. How could do such a thing to himself..

I don't want to be sick and disgusting..

"Kill mee, pleease" The suicidal Angel laughed as it pathetically mocked its judgement before giving up to the utter disgustance it had with itself. The enraged flesh had to take his rage on something..anything, and it would find two little flicking hulls trying to taste his perfection. His demonic wings would expand overshadowing the angelic presence (@rapax) and the moon. (@victoradams) Being overcome with the penance stares instant reversal, the effects began to work with the his fragile mindset. Feeling all of the buses that held his family..Feeling the self destruction onto himself, to mercy kill the sheep away from the wolves. The Angel could only cry as he could hear the herds screams being taken away into the forest. The feeling would hurl and vomit the sickness he felt, he was losing another family that he loved.. Spewing a rivers worth of bile liquid towards the two, its acidic properties would steam and create an airborne virus that would slowly overlap the city like the Konite mist that would surely collide soon enough.

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#49 Posted by Jason_ford (1100 posts) - - Show Bio


The Blue Blood only barely saw it coming. But even so, there was no way for him to outrace something at that speed. The blast tore right through him killing him as it ripped his skull apart and burned it all. Had the head not been practically incinerated, he might have survived, even if it took hours for the healing to be fully finished. As it was. Jason was left with his men underground. Six more Blue Bloods fully armed and ready, and of course Arnold Striker appearing as Red Mask. Morw would be sent after that annoying soldier, but there were also other targets that needed chasing down. Perhaps Brimstone would one day find something a little to poisinous in his drink one day, since direct attacks were thusfar very difficult.

@lucia_aurelius: @dark_defendor_: @lichter:

Red Mask moved to an opening and peeked onto the ground...Petelz? Surely nothing that wasn't disastrous could come from this?! Of all things to happen in Gothic, vegetation. Really?

Then he noticed them vanish and one of the transports was clearly having trouble.

"Take two Blue Bloods. I want the Dark Defendor dead first, avoid the soldier but if he attacks or comes in sight use the Target Locking Acid or the nerve gun." Jason told his imitator, Arnold Striker, who looked just like him at present, "But, actually, wait. Send one Ghost to detonate the firehouse from beneth (@k_brimstone) then watch them all."

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#50 Posted by VictorAdams (158 posts) - - Show Bio

@strigidae_57: @doctor_wheatley:

This beast was mad, it was more then mad it was insane. It's pleading shriek for death reaches my ears as I plummet towards him, I can do only one thing and fulfill that wish. I can send this beast back unto the pits of flame it clawed it's way out of. It lets loose it's true form, large fleshy wings rip from it's back and carry him into the sky. Their veiny beating does nothing more then confirm my suspicions, this is the devil himself come unto earth to reap it's souls and corrupt it's people. As it's mouth stretches open a waterfall of corruption pours out atop the streets and more importantly it seeks to engulf me, to corrupt me, to blacken my soul with a fabricated debt. I can't let that happen, my journey isn't over just yet, there's still alot a debt to collect. In my focus I failed to notice another attempting to combat the devil, one who I deem more capable then myself. After all you gotta respect the One Vs. One, as my legs carry me away from the waterfall of pain I call for her and she answers. My tool for reaping, my scythe. Her white aluminum hull is a sight for sore eyes, with a vault she swoops under me. My legs land atop her metallic surface and I force her to loop around once more, here I hover not seeking to attack but rather I seek to destroy the pools of corruption eating away at the asphalt. I shift my left foot slightly to the right and step down, a small hatch springs open allowing a collection of missiles to descend. With a WHOOOOSH they push themselves from their housing, and descend into the streets. Their impact erupts the black bile with flames, seeking to cleanse the corruption where it sat. With a salute to the two I rotate on my craft and it's engines push me away from them.

I can't say I haven't helped but as of now I see all the others having all the fun, within the moments the chaos of conflicts descended upon the streets. Gunfire, the slash of blades, the clash of powers, yet through it all the evil in this city is overpowering the good, the evil of the city is winning. My eyes see it all, they see the corruption snaking it's way into every heart and soul. They see the souls slowly being blackened by the debt of sin, I can't allow this anymore. I must do what I came here to do, the truth of this city is that it is a virus. A virus that must be expunged from the body of this earth, it must be retaken and cured of the evil that runs through it's veins. The Corruption must be targeted at it's core, the core being those who empowered this virus. Even now I can see them, the Brahama Brotherhood, The Ghost Crews, The Strigidae. They moved and behind them the corruption followed suit. It's black tendrils wrapped around them so tightly that I know what will cure them. The Cold embrace of death is the only thing that can alleviate their struggle, through my eyes I see it, a vehicle halted amidst the streets. I follow their aim up into the sky, their after the U.S. VTOL, behind it a smaller drone moves but doesn't fire. I was in the air force and I know exactly what it's doing. It's a distraction, based on the tech that guys using their gonna try and take it down with rockets.

A nearby rooftop becomes my target as I remove myself from atop my craft. Through my comm system I give one order to the white razor edged vehicle,

"Protocol 66"

The Japanese military craft zooms off as I start making my way towards the parked vehicle. It's only a few rooftops away, as I turn my gaze I see the rockets nearing the crafts hull. Two of them grow ever closer, and just before impact the white edge of my scythe zooms between them. Two of the three rockets slam into it's aluminum hull and the whole thing is engulfed in flames. Even as it descends I feel something I haven't felt in awhile. Sadness, in all honesty that piece of tech was the closest thing I had to a friend in a long time. I'm gonna miss the sucker.

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I near the truck but, their already starting to drive off, I have one chance at this. With a powerful push my legs lift me from the building and I begin my descent, mid air I take hold of my Truncheon and attach a cord from my utility belt to it's end. With a twirl I let it fly, even as it falls I feel myself praying to a god I don't believe in. From the sharp pull I feel on my waist, I know it caught the end of the truck. With outstretched arms I take hold of the ends of my cape and allow the cord to reel itself in. Within moments I feel my feet touch down atop the armored vehicle, at this point they would know I'm here. I reach around the drivers side and slam my fist against the window, my strength coupled with the steel plating in the knuckles causes the glass to shatter. The momentum from the punch keeps going, with an open hand I grasp the wheel and pull a sharp left then a right. The Truck flips and with a push of my feet I leave it's top. As the vehicle flips I make my way towards it knuckles cracking and crescent stars in hand. The first bastard that steps from the vehicle will get a razor sharp edge in his throat. This is the cleanse I've been waiting for, this is the debt I'm here to collect.