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#1 Edited by deactivated-59c716930b8a6 (9227 posts) - - Show Bio

Shogunate of Venezuela

@the_shogun, @orion_savage/@nighthunder, @rafael_romeiro, @quietus, @allure_, @_drake, @hound_of_war, @lichter, @AnyoneElseI'mForgetting
@the_shogun, @orion_savage/@nighthunder, @rafael_romeiro, @quietus, @allure_, @_drake, @hound_of_war, @lichter, @AnyoneElseI'mForgetting

The audible boom of a shattered sound barrier, an uncanny blur of scarlet and blue, and willingly suspended among the snowy white clouds was the Prodigal Son of the Cosmos himself, Amarth. His cape resonantly fluttered, eyes emblazoned with anticipation. Illuminate optics surveyed illustrious Venezuelan establishment beneath, and with a simpering curl of the lip, he could inhumanely hear the astonished whispers of mutants far below, gazing up at the figure messianically hovering above them.

"Is that... an alien?"

"Another mutant?"

"Someone testing out their powers?"

"Just some poser. Heh, have fun, kid."

"Wait, did he just come down from space?"

"No way... hes not actually some kinda god, is he?"

It was amusing to hear, but nevertheless, simple speculation compared to what was to come.

The ivory sun was hidden behind the gargantuan clumps of cloud, and the brilliant azure of the sky was veiled as well. A depressing grey reflected upon the world beneath, and hardly a ray of sun was visible. A definite problem in the eyes of the New God, whom, for but a moment, glanced upward into the visible, atmospheric masses of condensed water vapor.

Darkevius sidewardly extended both grey clad arms, uncovered palms spread. In a swift and sudden action, however, he slammed them together in the familiar motion of clapping. The effect was simply deafening, like a literal thunderclap reverberating from the heavens. The lone man in the skies was met with horrified cries and mesmerized stares as, in a supernaturally surreal instant, the snowy white skies had begun to part from the godlike clap, revealing the sun, which cast a vibrant beam down upon them all.

The muscled contours of his frame shadowed before the uncovered sun, for a fleeting moment, Amarth pleasurably shut his eyes, cells vitally saturated with solar power from the galaxy's most prominent star. The godlike vigor coursing through his veins drowned out the many cries of Venezuela's sheep. They would understand, understand his plight, his natural mission...

His body quivered as he mentally seized his personal gravitational field. Another reverberating boom and he hurled himself downward, cape now violently beating against the flowing wind. Roughly aiming his descent within the utopian city before the royal palace, Amarth landed with an ground shattering, earth rumbling impact, sending concrete debris in various directions.

A cloud of dust had been raised by his plummet. Coldly disregarding the thick crowds of scurrying citizens in all directions, Darkevius gracefully smoothed his arms alongside his frame, hovering beyond the dust cloud, just beyond the magnificent rooftops. His eyes burned with cosmic fury, fiery heat brought to the forefront of his irises.

He knew that his actions were being nationally surveyed, possibly even broadcast; counted on hordes of citizens using cellular devices or other communicative means to spread word of his presence. And thus, with a booming, commandeering inflection, he loudly spoke to all whom watched, whether or not with their own eyes. He spoke to the New Gods he sought to counsel and bring together. But above all, he spoke to the terrorist he presumed was seated upon her throne, to the one of the world's most prominent terrorists, to Ivana Strigidae.

"THIS MESSAGE GOES OUT NOT ONLY TO THOSE RESIDING WITHIN THIS UTOPIA, BUT TO ALL THOSE AWARE OF THE RECENT AND EVOLUTIONARY EMERGENCE OF GODLIKE INDIVIDUALS ACROSS THE WORLD DUE TO THE DISCOVERY OF DIVINE CRYSTALS.

"NEW GODS HAVE RISEN PAST THE DETONATION OF 1945. WE ARE HERE, AND I, AS THE ORIGINATOR OF THESE GOD CRYSTALS, CONVENE ANY AND ALL NEW GODS AND SUPPORTERS TO CLAIM THEIR PLACE IN OLYMPUS BY AIDING THE DEFEAT AND ROYAL REMOVAL OF THE TERRORIST, IVANA STRIGIDAE

"ALL MILITARY FORCES WHO STAND WITH THE SHOGUN ARE REQUESTED TO SURRENDER, OR BE BROUGHT DOWN WITH THEIR LEADER. IVANA STRIGIDAE, YOUR RULE HAS COME TO AN END, AND AN OLYMPUS FOR NEW GODS WILL BE BUILT IN THE PLACE OF YOUR ROYALTY.

"AGAIN, I URGE ANY WISHING TO CONTRIBUTE TO THE FALL OF IVANA STRIGIDAE TO COME FORTH TO VENEZUELA. ANYONE SEEKING TO AID IVANA STRIGIDAE WILL BE SOUNDLY CONQUERED."

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#2 Edited by Orion_Savage (714 posts) - - Show Bio

@dreadpool10:

"The time of the mortals is over.

Let us champion a new Era, an Era of Gods"

No Caption Provided

Ascension to God-hood did little to Orion's personality, on-stage he was a scrutinizing politician, off of it a comical and flirtatious womanizer. His new-found status and power changed none of that. However, it did come with a divine awareness. An awareness that enabled him to sense the presence of other New Gods. This feeling brought him to hear the cries of another God in venezuela.

One who spoke of over-throwing the terrorist Ivana, ruler of venezuela the mutant paradise. The New Age Helios conjured a divine sphere of light around his head, one that would prevent anyone who was not a New God from seeing his facial features unless it was within his will. He couldn't have anyone from America know that he was aiding someone in bringing down a nation. He viewed Ivana as a heartless terrorist, as do many people, however he was certain that they, American super-heroes and military leaders would come to her aid. And the last thing he needed was a plausible way for Alexander Donn to defeat him.

Orion's herculean frame levitated into the air and accelerated forward. A cone of plasma enveloped him as his bodies velocity exceeded the sound-barrier while the world around him became a slew of blurs. Those below him would watch as a fiery streak of gold rocketed through the skies, parting clouds and setting off one sonic boom after the other before he the messianic figure of Amarth came into view. He stopped next to him, offering a hand. Unsure of what to say in a situation such as this, Orion simply went with what he'd say if this were a movie set thousands of years ago

"On this day, you have my support. Mind, body and soul."

"....They will resist us. They will try to escape the change that is inveitable.

But our breed of Gods are not so easily swayed by mortals."

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#3 Posted by Katraya (540 posts) - - Show Bio

@dreadpool10:

Another set of people were drawn to the area by the proclamation...the Order of the Divine Conflict. There was no greater heretic, no greater apostate than a man who dared call himself a god. There was but one true god of this world and his rule would one day be unquestioned. Today, others called themselves gods. Katraya and her squad used a teleportation device to arrive, materializing not far from what they believed would be Ivana's eventual position. Katraya brought with her a squad of six others. Together they knelt before Ivana's palace, their armor gleaming in the sunlight. They paid no heed to the 'gods' above and instead closed their eyes in silent prayer.

No Caption Provided

Katraya eventually opened her eyes, running her fingers along the prayer beads she held in her hands. The two foot long chain of beads that draped itself from various portions of her armor was a personal account of her own supposed sins against The Tyrant. She kissed the beads and placed them back in their appropriate location. She stood and in unison her Sisters stood with her. They carried with them their traditional equipment, the OVKs, matter slicing blades and high energy flame throwers that comprised their standard equipment. Likely though, they would be forced to rely on other means. The Gene-Locks had not yet been used but Katraya was mentally preparing a list of gene and skill locks to issue orders for when the time came.

For now, she stepped forward, separating herself from the other girls and standing with her eyes gazing up at the two 'gods' above. Her mouth twitched in anger at their presence, her hatred for blasphemy stirring within her unfortunate heart. She closed her right hand into a fist, resisting the urge to shout at them, to inform them of their transgression and issue threats...but for now she waited, she waited for Ivana and for others as well. Today, she and her sisters would fight for free, in the name of The Tyrant.

No Caption Provided

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#4 Posted by Curve (765 posts) - - Show Bio

Gothic City.

"Yes, we are going to need this... Parked outside, I imagine?" Curve tapped the barrel of the gun against a model of a jet plane, as his goons stood behind him. Before him, a cowering, fat, rich man. Of course, he had a name, and a reputation, and 'friends in high places' whatever the hell that really meant. But Curve didn't care. To him, it was a man with a jet plane. Curve did not have a jet plane, and thus, was here. Nervously, the chubster nodded his head, sweat beading on his forehead out of nervousness and looking for some help in the situation.

No help presented itself. Each of Curve's men was holding on to one of the chubster's, holding them at gunpoint. Curve's smile widened as he saw the sparks of realization in Fatso's eyes, the realization that he was alone now with one of the biggest psychopaths on the face of the planet. "P-p-p-parked up top..." Augustus Gloop's lip quivered as he said it, but the words made it at last, and Curve's smile seemed to widen even more, eyes flashing green. The top of the skyscraper.

You boys go start up the jet... Leave these kids to me.
You boys go start up the jet... Leave these kids to me.

"Perfect, Porky! We're gonna borrow it for a day or two," Curve said, twirling the gun on one of his fingers delicately before catching it, the barrel now staring at the rich man's forehead menacingly. "Mkay?"

BLAM

The big man barely got the chance to nod his head before Curve pulled the trigger, the chubster falling back in his swivel chair and hitting the ground with a huge THUD- now dead.

With a chortle of laughter, Curve turned to see all of Piggy's henchmen staring up at him, knowing fully well that they could be dead themselves in seconds. "Aw, who'm I kiddin? You boys go start up the jet... Leave these kids to me." Waving a hand to his own thugs, the Clown Crew nodded swiftly before leaving the room, closing the door behind them. Piggy's boys were slow to get up, and when they did, they stared at Curve. Maybe it was just his insanity speaking, but Curve could've sworn he smelled their fear. Giggling, Curve's glowing green eyes glowed even brighter in a split second, as he utilized the effects of his Divus powers.

At first, nothing happened. Then, they all simultaneously fell to the ground- forgetting how to stand, as their minds started to tear themselves apart. Like a sick, twisted Rubix cube, Curve swapped around their minds, completely rewiring their brains and continuing to do so till they hardly had any idea who they were. That's when the screaming started. Writhing on the ground, the thugs clawed at their temples, wanting to get out all of the horrid thoughts running through their minds, forgetting things and remembering things all instantaneously- how to control their bowels, who they were, how to breathe. Then, finally, slowly, the thugs died, one by one. Now surrounded by silence, Curve's smile widened once more, and he stepped over the bodies, heading for the jet above.

Eighteen Minutes Later. Venezuela.

As they landed outside of Venezuela, Curve strode forward to his pilot, and patted him on the back. The pilot was actually one of Fatso's, from earlier- none of his men know how to fly a plane. The pilot now turned to Curve, forced grin from the Clown Disease making it's mark as tears fell from his eyes. Spotting a photograph of a family taped to the dashboard, Curve came up with the perfect joke to crack. "Thanks for the lift, pops. Pick us up before curfew!"
The door opened, and Curve strode out cackling, spying the goliath that had summoned his type hovering high overhead. Usually, Curve hated travelling alone...

But hopefully, with his new talents, plus the other... New Gods... he'd be able to form quite the formidable posse. Skipping over to the flying man, Curve soon yodeled up to Amarth. "Yoo-hoo! Tall, dark and handsome? You called us New Gods here!" Waving up to him, he regretted not packing his jet-pack boots, before awaiting a response.

@dreadpool10:

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#5 Edited by Quietus (774 posts) - - Show Bio

Congo Basin forest, Africa

"

Silently the Secretary of Defense pondered, both advisers and troops seemingly ignoring his presence as they knew disrupting his complicated mind whilst he was in full-on thinking mode would only turn out badly.

Julius' left palm gently rubbed his goatee, contemplating....

"Sir! I'm sorry to intrude but--"

The Shadow of D.C didn't move, only his one-eye snapped up in response to the noise. "What?"

"Venezuela is under attack."

The Secretary's entire demeanor changed, suddenly engrossed in this new conversation. Time was of the essence in situations like this. They could easily turn south. "By whom?"

"New Gods, like Thee Champion and others on file."

Julius clenched a fist, knowing he was going to be forced to aid Ivana in some capacity.

Relations between the USA and the Mutant Paradise had been the best in some time since Jean had come into office, but Julius knew if a fool like Orion won, combined with Ivana's own anger-management issues, things could turn out very, very badly.

"Contact the Black Bat. (@hound_of_war). Tell him to switch on the TV and that Julius needs his dark ass in South America pronto." The Black Bat would be one of the perfect countermeasures in this situation. "Secondly, contact Agent Lockon and arranged for him to be flown to Venezuela immediately. (@_drake.)"

Without delay the Secretary walked towards one of his helicopters.

"Prep Joint-Task Force R.E.D."

"Time to get off their asses."

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#6 Posted by Lichter (5808 posts) - - Show Bio

The CIA Headquarters

Multiple monitors blessed the Lichter Legacy with constant access to worldwide newsfeeds, and recently, he'd taken to keeping one quarter of his right screen devoted entirely to Venezuelan media. Quietly contemplating the demands of the self-proclaimed deities, he swiveled back and forth in his chair, admiring the tenacity of the Venezuelan reporters who had braved the wrath of such powerful beings in order to acquire footage of their arrival.

I have an obligation to aid Ivana, of course, beyond my CIA duties, he thought, glancing at his Consortium communicator. He'd not been contacted, but it'd be best to embark for South America anyhow. Curiosity had seized him, and ill-advised as it may be, he was intent on seeing these new divinities firsthand. He'd been born into an era of everyday historical moments; best not let them pass by. Donning his mask and synth-fluid vest, he withdrew his weapon from its sheath, vanishing from where he stood.

Caracas, Venezuela

Reforming atop a tall building nearby, Klaus stooped, vanishing from sight behind a sidewall. Drawing his weapon with one hand, he peered over the side, looking down at the coalition of nGods from afar. Surveying the area, he happened across a familiar sight.

What are the odds, he thought, inspecting the group led by @katraya, adjusting his weapon absentmindedly with his left hand. Raising two fingers to the side of his left ear, he sent a scrambled radio frequency to his government comrades @quietus and @hound_of_war, informing them of his presence. Subsequently, he sent another, this one directed to @the_shogun herself.

I am here, but only if you need me. I fear a third party is going to take advantage of the coming conflict between you and these self-proclaimed gods. - Lichter.

Removing his hand from where it lay next to his head, he narrowed his eyes, pure-white lenses moving as well. Drawing his dagger, he blinked off the roof, reappearing about fifteen meters behind the group that so interested him. His silver weapon raised instantly, the tip glowing red with formidable energies.

"Bad time for revenge on the Shogun," he said casually, the Death Ray locked on the contingent of female warriors. "Seems as though someone else has her attention."

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#7 Posted by Katraya (540 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter:

Katraya smiled and turned to face him, motioning for the other Sisters to remain where they were. "You've got the wrong idea, we're on her side. These..." She made a disgusted gesture to the NewGods. "Blasphemous fools are here to proclaim themselves gods...we're here to show them that false gods bleed." She extended her hand for a shake. "We haven't been properly introduced to one another. I'm Katraya, Mistress of the Tyrant's Hand and these are some of my Sisters. Circumstances make strange bedfellows do they not? I want you to know that we don't hold you personally as an enemy, only those who tried to blow us up when we peacefully arrived with the intent to have a conversation with your Director. So please, lower your weapon, like it or not we're on the same side today. You have my word that we will never raise our arms against you during this conflict. Unless of course you start something first. We are but simple mercenaries, the CIA raid was plan B for a job, Plan A was to just ask."

No Caption Provided

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#8 Edited by The_Shogun (4803 posts) - - Show Bio

Venezuelan airspace was covered in nonstop surveillance. Day and night. Drones, satellites, psychic scan and s-band radar. All data fed into a network of technopath designed supercomputers, crunched and calculated and analyzed and spat out to teams of around the clock staff who separated the wheat from the chaff and the signal from the noise before passing it on to the relevant party.

Unfortunately there was a slight delay, as Darkevius was mistakenly tagged as a bird, then as a plane before being correctly identified. Super durable tissues were immediately recognizable on s-band radar.

Duplicate clairvoyant scans were ordered and the staff of psychics in the heart of one of the Shogunate's secret military bases begin their remote visual and auditory surveillance. Minor psychics simply lifted the information from the visual and auditory systems of the clairvoyant's brains and passed it along to the resident technopath who input the information directly into digital format on the computer system, giving the Venezuelan government a crisp, clear and multi-angle HD recording of Darkevius's declaration, Savage's proclamation of support and the Killer Clown's enthusiastic words.

International Airspace

No Caption Provided

Both Ivana and Arrachtach were pressed back in their chairs, buckling in as the stealth jet fired its afterburners to accelerate, abandoning supercruise for pure speed.

Ivana's tattooed fingers flicked back and forth as she scrolled through pages of information on an electronic display pad. Arrachtach looked over her shoulder, reading.

"Is new gods. Always trouble. I never trust them."

"It seems your missgivings have been proven correct by this lot of divinely powered misfits. My goodness. Is that a clown?"

"Dah, is from Gothic. Crazy guy." Ivana spun a finger around in a circle above her temple. "Choknutyj."

"So I can surmise from his peculiar choice in attire. A lavender suit with a malachite shirt? Clearly the workings of an utter madman."

Ivana grunted in amusement, scrolling to the next page. "I recognize this one." Tapping the screen with a tattooed finger. "Is-" Snapping a finger as she searched for the word. "-want to be President guy. O'Brian Sewage."

"Savage." Arrachtach corrected. "@orion_savage."

The Shogun tapped the 'audio' button.

"On this day, you have my support. Mind, body and soul.""....They will resist us. They will try to escape the change that is inveitable. But our breed of Gods are not so easily swayed by mortals."

Then she arched a brow. "Get me DPP." Referring to the Department of Psychic Phenomenon.

A few moments later she was speaking into a heavy receiver, packed with encryption and anti-surveillance technology.

"Give me psychic line to Orion Savage."

There was a delay of about thirty seconds and then Ivana could feel a pressure at the front of her head, inside her skull as the on duty psychic staff prepared to telepathically send her words to Orion's ears, should their efforts to establish a link be successful.

"Orion Savage. This is Ivana Strigidae. I have recording here. Support, mind-body-soul, breed of gods, blablah."

"So. You run for President. Alexander Donn, he run too. One of you can be useful to me. You can be useful now. You fight flying cape guy, this useful. Or I call Alexander Donn. And he become useful."

"And I have much gratitude for useful man. I give them all copy of recording. I think you destroy it, win Presidency, become important man."

"Or you say no. Then Alexander Donn become useful. Then I give him recording. He have much imagination. And he have no mercy."

"You decide."

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#9 Posted by Rafael_Romeiro (2566 posts) - - Show Bio

@curve: @orion_savage: @dreadpool10:

The weather had changed. Gone were the clouds of grey. Slants of warm sunlight began peeking past the windows and into the air-conditioned walls of his office. The change wasn't radical. Weather was fickle. Rafael dismissed it and his eyes trailed over the documents organized atop his desk of dark brown. Venezuela's economic policy and financial regulation was important than a sudden change in weather. Ah but then, then his ears perked up at the sound of screams and the demands of megalomania. "Hmm". Holding his charming features in earnest, Rafael listened for more, and in that moment, his secretary; Madalena, burst into the room, and the gust of air that came with her arrival left the room lumbering.

The Neo Achilles
The Neo Achilles

A tall and elegant woman dressed in black, Madalena began, her voice echoing with the smooth texture of spider silk, "Are you not paying attention?", she whispered, keeping her voice low, her sensuous features wearing a countenance of alarm. "They are-", Madalena resumed, only to find her words cut off by Rafael, "Demanding that we yield. I know". Rising from his seat, Rafael strode towards the office doors. "So what do we do about this yielding business?", Madalena panicked, her heart clamoring in her chest, her voice hissing at him over his apparent disinterest in the brewing conflict. "We won't", Rafael answered, stepping out his office, abandoning his black Ermenegildo Zegna suit for his 'White Vibranium' armor.

Coolly, Rafael emerged, the sun glistening on his armor's ebony and ivory plating, an armor tailored to the lean and muscled proportions of his Greek God-like frame. Striding forward, walking down the steps from the palace, a trail of impenetrable confidence followed him. His posture was global, his hazel eyes held the quiet intensity of a man convinced that every battle was his to win, and his swagger of aggression and cold confidence told of a warrior who embodied the qualities of a Neo Achilles. Rafael had been training. Refining his approach to combat and the use of his powers. Of his perception of time and his newfound mastery over kinesthesia.

Lifting his gaze and holding in sight who he was certain would soon be his three foes, the Neo Achilles studied them, for tenth of a second. They were powerful. Indeed they were. But he was simply better. He certainly believed so. Finally, he addressed them, his eyes holding theirs in a shared gaze, his voice deep and cool, "You should surrender".

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#10 Posted by Lichter (5808 posts) - - Show Bio

@katraya:

He didn't bother responding, or giving his name.

"Were you hired for this mission by the Shogunate?" he asked, no, demanded, narrowing his eyes. Idly he held the Death Ray at an angle, almost parallel to the ground; given its lightweight nature and almost complete lack of recoil, it was actually easier to wield with only one hand, unlike most firearms. As he waited for the reply, he casually hovered the weapon's sights across every warrior, keeping an eye on each one.

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

@dreadpool10: @orion_savage: @curve: @quietus: @katraya: @the_shogun: @lichter: @rafael_romeiro:

If God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent him.

No Caption Provided

Julian Knightfall's computer classified all events happening around the world into four categories of urgency. This was a three about to turn into a four.

“Tell him I am already on my way.”

It had been too long since Julian had taken the old girl out for a ride; he constantly worked on her, making sure she was always up to date with the latest technological advancements with obsessive behavior.

When the light came on, she still growled like the first day she was taken outside for a stroll to lay waste of terrorists. Through the door system, he was able to teleport himself instantly where the battle was just commencing.

Everyone seemed to be at a standstill like a Mexican stand-off, just waiting for a reason to empty their guns on one another. Not for one second did he believe that this will resolve peacefully, it wasn’t embedded in Ivana’s genes to be diplomatic, just ruthless.

This would surely turn into an international incitement, after fighting wars for the United States for decades he had developed a nose that allowed him to detect when shit was going to hit the proverbial fan.

Blood rushed through Julian’s fingers like a river flowing downstream, if these New Gods were anything like Alexis Pettis then bringing the extra armor was the right choice in case they forced him out from the old girl.

The Black Bat locked the automated turrets towards the clown and the canon at the bright one in the ridiculous golden diaper. He held the microphone close to his face and spoke through the speakers with military authority.

“New gods…Surrender now or be annihilated!”

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#12 Edited by Felix_Faraday (3081 posts) - - Show Bio

*CRUNCH!*
*MUNCH-MUNCH!*

*CrRrUNCH!*
*MUNCH!*

From high above the action, in the cloud's embrace, a tiny trail of crumbs suspended in the air led further upwards. If followed, the cascade of edibles would be seen falling in slow motion until stopping completely below the feet of an airborne figure. Timbs and weathered jeans followed by a black Danzig t-shirt that contorted tightly to a muscular frame.

Crooked gaze on a scruffy mug condescending as Felix nibbled on cheap potato chips. Out of even nGod perception he existed, hyper-herculean physique affording him the luxury of inconspicuous extra-Planck Time movement. Why? Perhaps the events that transpired Spain offered him an uncanny opportunity: a chance at finally vacationing. Perhaps he was still in mourning for his friend, angry with the cruel world. Perhaps a bit of both.

*Looks like we got us a Mexican Standoff.*, The Neutron Son quoted Mickey from Natural Born Killers in his mind as optical brilliance granted him the ability to dissect the scene from afar. He didn't like what he saw, another conflict. The difference from all the wars in the world? It was between two endangered species--equally as unique as it was stupid.

He made sure to catalogue the leader of the invading force in his hyperthametic memory. "Hmm.", then something else entirely captured his attention and made him descend into the urban area. He can't help but to grin at the marvels of Venezuela. Every turn reveals more of a nerd's wet dream.

Still working his way through the chips, now just with a big dumb smile as he chews down.

The Adamantium Proletarian finally arrives at his destination: a crossroad dense with mutant lives but frozen in time relative to him. He returns a fleeing balloon into the hands of a crying child as he walks down the street, eyeing the actual reason for his arrival. A young woman crossing the street while multitasking, her sensitive antenna don't register the car about to hit her. Felix just gently tilts her statue-esque body backwards so she avoids harm by inches. Nobody needs a huge traffic jam in Venezuela.

The woman winks and everything is in motion again.

But Felix is long gone then, already walking down the white sandy beaches of Caracas. Each step he takes in hyper-time instantly turns the sand under his feet into solid glass, leaving behind him a trail of glittering footprints. He stops and looks over the frozen tropical tides, curly overgrown hair nearly in his eyes. "Wow."

He smiles a sincere smile. The scenery made him realize what's still there to fight for: the moment. A potent concentrate of time and human endeavor that has unerring hope invested in it's peers despite knowing it's mortality. Each an authentic performance that can never be replicated.

"I always did want to wear a cape."

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#13 Posted by Katraya (540 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter said:

@katraya:

He didn't bother responding, or giving his name.

"Were you hired for this mission by the Shogunate?" he asked, no, demanded, narrowing his eyes. Idly he held the Death Ray at an angle, almost parallel to the ground; given its lightweight nature and almost complete lack of recoil, it was actually easier to wield with only one hand, unlike most firearms. As he waited for the reply, he casually hovered the weapon's sights across every warrior, keeping an eye on each one.

"This one is free of charge." Katraya said with a smile, retracting her hand. "I need no monetary reason to fight blasphemers and false gods. Now lower your weapon and consider pointing it at the people that are actually your enemy." She told him. None of the Sisters looked concerned by his stance or the weapon sweeping over them. Instead they focused their attention on the new gods, on loading their weapons and saying individual prayers in the solace of their own minds. "I speak the truth Agent. You saw my attack on the CIA, does this truly look to you like an attempt on Ivana's life? If I were to do that, I'd bring my entire organization, not a squad and I certainly wouldn't just stand around outside."

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#14 Edited by deactivated-59c716930b8a6 (9227 posts) - - Show Bio

@the_shogun: @hound_of_war: @lichter: @rafael_romeiro: @quietus: @curve: @katraya: @orion_savage:

It was an uplifting revelation, that beings of similar godly circumstances had heeded the call of New Olympus. It was, however, with some difficulty that he restrained understandable astonishment at the surreal presence of Curve - Gothic's Crown Prince of Chaos and Madness, along with whom he quickly identified as Orion Savage - one of the presidential candidates that, until now, Amarth had regarded with little affability. He greeted both of them with a mildly amused smile. "You know this isn't greek mythology, right? We're gods, but we don't have to speak like Zeus, Poseidon, and..." he glanced down at Curve with a creased brow, "...Hades."

Jesting aside, he returned his attention to what was imminently important. Impossible senses enabled him to hear scathing and interrogative words in a somewhat distant proximity. "Indeed I did, Curve," he began. "Ivana's defeat or surrender is the main goal here, as well as taking over the palace, and I know I'm strong, but I somehow doubt my ability to siege the royalty of Venezuela by myself. I'm assuming we'll be seeing allies of The Shogun as well, and that basically guarantees this'll be tough. Possibly life threatening."

"You should surrender".

“New gods…Surrender now or be annihilated!”

They are almost exactly on cue. Amarth held his stare upon the white clad individual, duly noting the swaggering composure the individual possessed as he eyed the gods. Dark's gaze flickered to the tank, fists clenched at the ultimatum of surrender or annihilation. A fire rekindled in his eyes as he coolly regarded the armored vehicle. A white clad man too confident for his own good, and another hiding within an tank and uttering empty threats while under the presumption of safety. If nothing else, Ivana made interesting friends.

But time was being wasted with words, and a standoff wasn't what Amarth had come for.

And so, without so much as a backwards glance to his own nGod allies, Dark careened forward towards the aircraft, his form indiscernible from a crimson blur. The lack of a boom indicated that he hadn't broken the sound barrier, but as he accelerated, he doubted that his current speed would negate the titanic force he could exert. Thus, disregarding the authoritative voice's warning, Amarth attempted to sidewardly pummel through the tank, wishing to give its pilot a chance of survival whilst his vehicle was disabled.

"ATTACK!"

Regardless of whether or not his initiative blow against the aircraft was successful, he hardly dared to pause for another moment. He peered at the white clad man - the unknown variable. He knew his decision could very well trouble him, but without further knowledge of the confident man's capabilities, Dark himself was somewhat unwilling to outright use lethal force against him. He didn't bother dragging his companions into his own sense of morality, the choice was theirs alone. If they saw it fit to kill the man, they could do so.

Instead, honing his own rates of perception and ocular powers, Dark sought to gain a visual of the bone structure of this particular enemy, oblivious to the white vibranium composite of the man's armor. He smirked, stellar vision enabling a glance of the man's joint areas. With those in sight, Amarth sought to optically emit a series of surgically precise, extremely thin rays of cosmic heat, aimed to create tiny cuts upon upper and lower limb joints. If successful, the cuts themselves would be rather harmless (and would heal, inevitably). However, extended limb exertion would cause the cut areas to fracture until the bones broke, which would naturally create a debilitating effect.

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#15 Posted by Orion_Savage (714 posts) - - Show Bio

@curve: @rafael_romeiro: @dreadpool10:

"This one's mine." Mentally, he tried to reach out to the mad clown below him; You should try and find Ivana. I'll keep southern american thee champ over here busy.

Orion's gaze focused on the man clad in white armor. A golden streak later, and Orion stood a few inches from the venezuelan powerhouse, eyeing him up and down with keen interest. "We're not going to stand-down." Orion said with a scoff, gaze never wavering before he grinned. "But, I suppose you knew this already." His tone grew serious, peripheral vision detecting the other New god starting what Orion knew to be the first move of a long battle. Ah well, looks like it's time to fight.

Rotating his hips, Orion sought to begin the battle with a sound-barrier shattering right cross, power maximized by both his herculean strength and weight of his body, the punch was capable of cracking a continent in half. The punch was followed up by Orion stepping forward and firing a left handed jab, both attacks aimed towards his opponents head. He'd continue the pressure by firing a barrage of punches at hypersonic speed, and finish the move with two optical beams of gamma rays, both at temperatures comparable to the surface of the sun.

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#16 Posted by _Drake (14900 posts) - - Show Bio

Gothic City Academy - A few moments after the invasion:

"No, man, I swear. There was this dude, some C-class loser thug, they call him "The Leaper" for some reason. Anyways, dude was coming my way, right? Jumping left and right, it looked like I was about to face a freaking movie martial artist that was also half-monkey. So, his foot goes forward with all the impulse he could possibly gather, it comes from my right. No time to react, I just raise my right arm and hope this dude doesn't have enough strength to rip my goddamn head off with one swing. So I just hear a cracking noi- Wait a sec..." Drake's storytelling drew every single of his friends closer to him, all seven taciturn gazes awaiting for a conclusion that ultimately wouldn't come, hence their irate disbelief as he rose from the table to answer his phone.

It was Angelica, one of the agents responsible for aiding his actions following his secret recruitment by Equalizer's boss-man, Julius Jones. His brazen words carved on his mind... Drop his own insecurities for the sake of others, how easy could that be? The Auburn Archer slid his finger across the screen, phone approaching his ear. "It's me, Angie. Any trouble?" Drake gulped, caressing the bridge of his nose, a frown forming as he silently heard all of the agent's words. "Venezuela?! N-No way, man! I have classes right now, dammit... Didn't even have the time to tell my mom I'm on a team and you're already sending me down there?!" He sighed, perhaps this was one of those moments Julius had mentioned... Those moments he would have to ultimately quit.

"Alright, alright, I get that we're up against a strong enemy... No, seriously, Angie, you can stop yelling at me now. Just... Just tell me how long 'till you get here." Reluctantly accepting his mission, Crimson Arrow waved his goodbyes to his friends, he couldn't tolerate any sort of distractions, even if it quite possibly was his first and last mission. He was a Gothic City hero, after all. Panting his way to his room within the Academy's facility, he promptly gathered all his gear, hands trembling as trickles coursed his face. "I got this." Drake stated nervously as his stare met a fearful coward on the mirror reflection. "I got this." He repeated before proceeding to the meeting point and mission briefing.

Entering Venezuelan territory - 10 minutes later:

"I'm telling you, Angie, he better fluffing tell me who my father is. He's the only person that knows besides mom and, frankly, I can't depend on her to tell me. I always end up tricked into eating pizza and talking about... I don't even know." Drake shrugged, his trembling hands occupied as they adroitly gyrated one of his projectiles between each sweaty finger. The kid exuded fear, it was well-nigh palpable, such a humongous mission also happened to be his debut to the eyes of the worldy public. Angelica acknowledged so, she had even considered lying to Jones and telling him the kid ran away, but children going to war... Such was the consequences of our reality. Regardless of her own principles, she was merely a soldier obeying orders from above, her only hope was to pray it all went well.

Drake's hands and legs were constantly throbbing against the metallic bench and rather upbeat flooring, respectively. It was a rhythmical, somewhat harmonious beat, perhaps one of the older songs his iPod playlist would always play. Not even he knew for certain, the world around him all blurry as his pale skin moistened due to all the sweat oozing from his body. New Gods, it wasn't a term he was unacquainted with, and from the briefing... They looked just like one of world's gargantuan icons: Thee Champion. Who was him to even stand against a man of tremendous power? That towering figure overshadowing any of the accomplishments Drake could possibly achieve his entire life? He wanted to leap out of the plane, scream his way back to the soft embrace of his colleagues, yet all that fear was swallowed as a dry gulp. There would be deaths, there would be losses, how could he quit at all? It would be so selfish, even if his efforts were but a ridiculous tickle inflicted on those that opposed him... If he could just save one life, it would be worth it.

His left hand forcefully locked itself around his right wrist, it was an uncommon sensation, he could swear it was his real right arm that hurt so much. However, it was viciously skewered months ago, a loss he would never get back from, an ultimatum he would have to overcome. What would it be this time? His left leg? It didn't matter how much he readied his frail mind for the combat, it would always come down to this unbearable tingling on his prosthetic limb. Just one life, Drake. Just one goddamn life. Hold it together until you save at least one. The Quitting Champ desperately howled inside his very mind.

A nervous chuckle broke the silence, Angelica was pulled from her thoughts for a moment, head quickly tilting aback to check on the kid. "You alright, boy?" She muttered, an astonished expression plastered on her face as she saw Drake locking himself onto the parachute.

A coy simper forced its way to his lips, revealing pearly teeth.

"Guess I'm one step ahead from yesterday now. I finally know what they felt. Finally..." Wiping a single crystal tear from his left eye, the archer resumed. "Dark Vengeance, Nobody, Commissioner Kurt... So that's how they felt on their first time too, huh?" The boy chortled, looking at the worried glare of his senior. "Don't worry, Angie, what kind of soldier dies on his first mission? I can tell you one that doesn't, the one freaking Julius Jones had his eye on! Now open up that goddamn door before I wet myself and go back home!"

He didn't think twice, brashly jolting forwards to find himself sky-diving on foreign territory. Eyes shut as wind buffeted against his face, an unorthodox sensation of freedom blended with panic and sense of duty. Drake tapped his comm-link, the bright azure of the sky obfuscating his sight for a brief moment. "KID, YOU'RE GONNA HIT THE FLOOR, OPEN YOUR PARACHUTE NOW!" The deafening roar pierced his ears.

The parachute unfolded abruptly, its crimson hue indicating Drake's arrival. He tapped the comm-link once more, this time addressing @quietus himself. "I am here, sir. What are my orders?"

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#17 Posted by Curve (765 posts) - - Show Bio

@the_shogun: @hound_of_war: @lichter: @rafael_romeiro: @quietus: @curve: @katraya: @orion_savage:

Most can probably just read the last paragraph.

Allies indeed did come to Amarth, the New God's Guidance Counselor, and Curve's grin grew as he saw Orion Savage himself arrive on the scene, apparently one of those effected by the Divus crystals. With a giggle of delight, he raised a hand to give an almost mocking salute to Orion, thoughts racing as he did so- new plans forming with each passing moment. Enemies arrived as well, and the Clown soon saw that before him, several people gathering before them to combat their godliness. Big black tank, an assortment of superhumans, and more to come, no doubt.

But before Curve could pick one particular gameplan to use, the rest of his godly compatriots decided to spring into action, diving forward. Amarth (@dreadpool10), their leader, struck at the tank (@hound_of_war)- hopefully attracting the attention of the automated turrets that stared down Curve himself. Meanwhile, Orion Savage flew towards one of the supers to initiate combat, but not before sending Curve some much needed instructions.

You should try and find Ivana. I'll keep southern american thee champ over here busy.

Curve cackled as the slight intrusion of his mind was made, but the message did get across. Luckily. Telepathy did not work very well on the King of the Crazed. Turning towards Caracas, the Clown made a mad dash for some much needed cover- deciding to go away from the battle, so that he might not be caught up in any superhuman combat, or have a stray bullet hit him. Curve was crazy, but he wasn't stupid. Skipping towards Caracas, he pondered aloud to himself.

"Now, if I was Ivana Strigidae, where would I be..."

Green eyes glowing brightly to signal the use of his powers, Curve used his mental prowess to create a giant illusion of himself, making it seem like he grew into a fifty foot tall Clown. The giant clown laughed, and stomped towards the city, bright red laser beams firing from his eyes into the sky. Everyone without psychic protection would see the giant, instead of the actual Curve, and would- hopefully- run away in fear. If not, Curve could still use it as a screen to get to the Shogunate much faster.

No Caption Provided

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#18 Posted by Lichter (5808 posts) - - Show Bio

@the_shogun: @hound_of_war: @rafael_romeiro: @quietus: @curve: @katraya: @orion_savage: @curve:

Slowly, he lowered his weapon, but the tip was still aglow with crackling crimson energies. The lenses of his mask narrowed in conjunction with his own eyes, the brilliant white optics contouring to his own irises like contacts. He let some pressure off the trigger, and the buzzing red energies vanished, if only for a moment. He exhaled. A loud crashing sound, however, disturbed him from his momentary rest, an assault on his eyes and ears giving way to a fearful emotion.

What in the hell-?he wondered, raising a hand up to his face as Curve's massive illusion rampaged across the city. There was an unnatural blur to it, though, a haze that surrounded the image; to Lichter, it was imperfect. Something was wrong. Closing his eyes to shield himself from the horrendous apparition, he grit his teeth, and adjusted the Octarine Oscillator, amplifying the settings by several orders of magnitude.

The quasimystic veil that enveloped him grew ever thicker, an invisible sheet of pure condensed anti-science energy growing denser around his form. For a second, he could see the greenish-purple mist swirl across his entire body, hardening into a shield tangible only to the arcane. His body and mind's defenses against the unknowable fortified, he lowered his arm from where he raised it, seeing only the outline of the giant clown tearing through the city. The audio-olfactory elements of the illusion had been reduced as well, diluted to the point where it sounded like the massive jester was underwater.

Experimentally, he tapped the switch once more, and the clown vanished entirely.

Interesting. Best to alert my allies, he thought, tapping out a nonverbal message to all government agents in the vicinity, as well as to Ivana.

The clown is an illusion. Beware, though. Contact with it may still damage your mind. If you have countermeasures against psionic interference, now is the time.

He looked over to Katraya and her squad, and resolved not to tell them anything.

Yet.

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#19 Posted by Katraya (540 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter: : @hound_of_war: @rafael_romeiro: @quietus: @curve: @katraya: @orion_savage: @curve:

(cold man, cold)

Katraya's squad immediately raised their weapons and primed to fire when the giant clown appeared. Katraya turned from Lichter to look up at it. What none of them showed was fear, the things they feared were vastly different from weird giant clowns. They feared the wrath of The Tyrant, they feared failure to serve him...and they feared Katraya. Katraya felt a sudden wave of unease. I hate clowns. She drew her pistol and prepared to fire when one of her squad Sisters did instead. The weapon went straight through, breaking the illusive hold it had on them for a moment. "Gene-Lock, durability level three, gene-lock, super strength level three, gene-lock, combat level regeneration." She ordered her squad. The squad placed their helmets on and waited for new orders. She motioned them to move out of the way of the giant clown illusion.

The orders were the first time most would have actually heard the process by which the Hyper Mutants engaged their powers. Katraya smirked at Lichter and made a mock salute with the barrel of her pistol. "Someone needs to find the real clown, the rest of this trash is just a distraction at the moment, people in the way." She turned her attention back to her Sisters. "Spread out! Find that clown!" The squad immediately fanned out and their armor shimmered and vanished, quickly replaced by what appeared to be simple black clothing. Their movements were suddenly silenced as they activated their stealth suits. The Hard Light armor effectively reversed its ability, absorbing and bending light rather than simply projecting it. The effect was the entire squad all but disappeared from visuals. They set out immediately to attempt to find the clown and report back to their mistress. Katraya on the other hand remained. She holstered her pistol and removed her two pain sticks from her belt. A set of metalic wings burst out of the power pack on her back and jet engines ignited as she rocketed into the air and shot straight towards the man who had initiated the entire engagement. @dreadpool10 A callous individual or one intent on letting her enemies kill each other might have allowed Alexander Donn to go on fighting without help...but Katraya was more interested in victory.

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The funny thing about durability is all it necessarily prevents is direct damage to the body. Pain though, pain is a very different thing. Pain sticks over weapons until I know more. She shot forward at high speed, seeking to bring her baton around to smash it into the side of the caped nGod's face. If the baton made contact and his body worked the way most did, the nerves of his entire face would feel as if they'd just been set on fire. The rest didn't much matter. With her jump pack fully functioning she was prepared to engage him in a full fledged aerial dual and hopefully allow his initial target some time to regroup and make his own attacks.

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#20 Edited by Quietus (774 posts) - - Show Bio

The Secretary of Defense had already boarded a flight directly to the closest Joint-Task Force R.E.Dbase near Venezuela, flicking the side of his dark glasses as reels of data fed directly to his eye. Quickly receiving word from Lichter and made aware that the Black Bat was on scene, Julius contacted Agent Lockon (@_drake).

"I am here, sir. What are my orders?"

Julius tapped the glasses frame, opening communicate channels on his end.

"Equalizer, you won't be beating any of these superhumans up close. Instead I want you to act as my eyes and ears on the ground. I'm giving you direct control of Joint-Task Force R.E.D to use on the ground. Assist Venezuelan and other allies forces. Look for any openings or weak-spots and capitalize. You're their support fire, see one of those God's stumble? Shoot their leg. See a chink in their armor? Use that aim of yours and go for the shot. I trust you."

The Wall then looked at a colleague, looking at him. "You didn't hear this next bit."

Subtly Julius clicked a button upon the armrest as a little, old fashioned radio popped out. It looked archaic, but secretly was a heavily encrypted piece of software which would feed directly to the Shogunate. Not even he knew where it transmitted, just that it sent word to Ivana somehow. (@the_shogun)

Julius spoke. A single line.

"I have your back, Julius."

Julius adviser and bodyguard Cole folded his arms, guessing who that was.... The Secretary responded in turn.

No Caption Provided

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#21 Posted by _Drake (14900 posts) - - Show Bio

@quietus:

Drake chuckled a tad, Julius' last words taking quite a bit of the weight off his shoulders. "Thank you, sir, I'll not let you down." His trembling hands gripped his bow, an index finger rolling around the tip of an arrow. Not unlike any expert sharpshooter, the Auburn Archer fathomed the location for a couple of seconds, advantaging of his stretching robotic limb, Drake swung one building after the other, seeking for the best positions for any possible shots, escape routes and unpopulated areas.

Unexpectedly, he came into a sudden halt, somersaulting his way out of a giant clown's field of vision. He gasped jadedly, left hand vigorously gripping his chest as the other adamanthine hand crushed stones into sand. "Shit, shit, shit, shit... I didn't come here to fight a giant ass McDonald with red beams going out of his eyes."

A palm hit his head forcefully, not more than a few moments after receiving and recognizing Lichter's message's veracity. Eyes locked on the other wall, an expression of stupidity across his jovial visage as he pictured an infamous dunce hat ornamenting his head. How could he be so afraid of an unbeknownst enemy which legitimacy itself seemed so ridiculously improbable? Snorting as he rasped two fingers across his nose, Crimson Arrow patted his comm-link, reiteratively barking his primary request.

"Uhm... So, this is my first time giving any orders and, uh... I need you guys to be my web. Not the best analogy, I know, but we're here as support, not direct offense." The archer frowned, it really made him sound like an imbecile. Sighing, he continued. "In basketball we use to say an ace can only score if his team can set up decent screens to isolate him. So let's be these screens. If you pay attention, they don't even care about us 'fodder', there's a tank (@hound_of_war) and a dude (@rafael_romeiro) wearing a white armor. Exactly. White. These are our Durant & Westbrook, probably the shot we have at beating the rampaging (@dreadpool10) one." Drake inspired deeply, his evanescent anxiety substituted with complete focus.

"I want you to focus your fire on him, anything you have that can put up a smoke curtain. He can't hit what he can't see, all we'd need is to bait him. Leave that to me."

As soon as he turned off the transmission, Drake jolted onto action, darting his way throughout the early battlefield Venezuela had become. A few projectiles headed the New God's way, hopefully managing to erect a misty curtain envelopping him. Leaping from an edifice, Drake took aim as he gyrated his body, his arduous training showing results as he shrewdly fired a flare projectile, which, upon impact, would brightly erupt its vermilion glisten, endeavoring to temporarily blind the flying brick.

"Here, doggy, doggy, doggy!" Snapping his fingers and whistling, Drake provoked his enemy. It would, obviously, be much easier to pinpoint Drake upon perceiving the flying projectile, and thus he already readied his next move. As the New God's sight was, most likely, compromised by the smoke veil, he would be locating the Auburn Archer via accurate guessing. However, if he landed nearby Drake's probable position, he would find nothing but another arrow piercing the air whilst moving his way. This time an electrifying projectile, charged enough to instantaneously kill any average human.

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

@rafael_romeiro: @dreadpool10: @the_shogun: @orion_savage: @curve: @lichter: @katraya: @quietus: @_drake:

In a outlandish blur, the tank was merely dented by the New God leading the charge against mutant kind. The newer upgrades made to the old girl were based off Maverick’s newest T-90 model, a next generation Russian tank. The Guns magazine had called it “Tom Clancy’s wettest dream” for its unreal capabilities.

No Caption Provided

Then shit hit the fan like he knew it would, it was hard to believe that decades ago some people still were using tommy guns to end each other’s lives. If there is something that we as a society have accomplished at admirable rates is finding new ways to kill different people.

After all, not everyone has multi-billion dollar counter measures in case a super decides to suddenly drop at their doorstep. The everyday man needs to feel secure against the overwhelming power of the powered.

Julian was just about to fill the gigantic clown with lead until he received a message from one the CIA’s finest.

The clown is an illusion. Beware, though. Contact with it may still damage your mind. If you have countermeasures against psionic interference, now is the time.

Klaus had just saved his ass from getting controlled by the Clown Prince of Terrible Fashion Statements; however, he shouldn’t wait around for Julian to express his gratefulness for this. The closest thing that he would get to a “thank you” will be a bonus in his next paycheck.

“I warned him. He should have surrendered when he had the chance.” Julian grunted.

He redirected all of his machinery at the God of Cosmetic, who was at the time concerned with the Venezuelan Adonis to notice the tiny little R.E.D agents forming and aiming for him, but Julian noticed, he always paid attention to the little people. One ant was not something that one should worry about, they could be easily killed. Stepping on an ant hive was more problematic; they would crawl all over your legs to sting you and leave behind a rash that would bother you for weeks.

The microsecond the Crimson Archer’s squad caught Amarth’s attention; he would press his thumb against the red button to the side of the lever lever and release a hyper-sonic array of Hafnium mini-missiles, with a an energy equivalent to approximately 1330 megajules. Enough to atomize anything near it and kill anything not strong enough to survive the heat.

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#23 Posted by The_Shogun (4803 posts) - - Show Bio

Venezuelan Airspace

The self proclaimed greatest warrior alive set beside Arrachtach and watched events unfold hundreds of miles away away, absorbing the movement and body language of each rampaging madman and powerhouse. Occasionally she received a message from her allies, such as @lichter and @quietus, which she acknowledged and filed away for future reference.

Having ordered the Venezuelan army to stay at a safe distance until it was the right time to strike there was little to do but wait as the stealth jet screamed through the upper atmosphere. She used every spare moment to observe her enemies and capture an instinctive 'feel' for them, trusting in her animalistic combat instincts guide her when the time came.

Arrachtach had disassembled half of the passenger compartment and set cross legged on the floor, furry brow creased as he assembled a variety of gadgets, gizmos and improvised weapons.

Ivana watched him for a moment and decided to call upon a weapon of her own. Alexandra Steele, the Psyentist. A fellow mutant and Omega level psychic Ivana considered her a potent weapon in defense of the Mutant Homeland. Tapping a few buttons on the planes secure and encrypted line she made the call, saying her piece and then hanging up. There was no time for niceties, even had Ivana been inclined to such a thing.

"Alexandra. Is Ivana. New gods attack. Do me big favor-- explode brains."

"Your much heralded tactical genius on display I see." Arrachtach commented as Ivana ended the call, sparks flying from wires as he jammed them into an orb that hummed and glowed with an inner blue light.

"She get picture, I am sure."

"Most certainly. I can picture her now 'Explode brains! My goodness what brilliance! Why did I never think of that?'."

"Ahhhh, shut up." Ivana grinned and threw the touchscreen pad at him as she stood and walked to the back where her equipment was stored. She slipped into the white vibranium costume, strapped her utility belt around her waist, sheathed her remaining vibranium dagger to her leg and took up her bow and quiver.

"Okay. We close enough for teleport now. See you when I see you."

"Please endeavor to not die."

Ivana grunted in response, placed a hand on her utility belt and vanished with a 'pop' of air rushing into the vacuum left by her vanishing body.

Bunker X529

The Strigidae grandmaster appeared with the 'crack' of displaced air amid a group of technicians, bustling about imputing activation codes, performing last minute checks and monitoring power levels. They jerked with surprise and she raised a calming hand.

"Is ready?"

"Yes ma'am. All systems are green."

"Okay." Ivana walked up the metal stairs of the scaffolding surrounding Project Shogun. Silver metal opened with a hiss and a team of scientist watched as she lowered herself into the command capsule. A VR display was secured over her eyes and bio-gel filled the lining of the capsule, capable of sensing every twitch of her muscles and giving her precise fly-by-wire control of the armor, code named Shogun X.

A klaxon wailed as safety clamps disengaged.

"Tachyon amps engaged. Vibranium quantum harmonics synchronized. Command matrix enabled."

Ivana stood.

She spoke, voice metallic through the suits speakers.

"I always wanted to kill a god."

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#24 Posted by Rafael_Romeiro (2566 posts) - - Show Bio

@orion_savage: @hound_of_war: @dreadpool10:

Outside, the sun casting a subtle glow over them, Rafael stood face to face with the self-proclaimed New Gods. 'Of what?', he wondered, his thoughts scoffing with derision. Though soon they attacked. And for a moment, Rafael felt the sharp sting of heat swarming through his wrists, elbows, shoulders, knees and ankles. He winced but didn't fall. If not for his extraordinary durability and the protective qualities of his armor, perhaps he would have. Instead he sustained only minor joint cuts. Minor.. for now at least. And while one half of the New God duo engaged another foe, Rafael's gaze fell on the one who remained. The one who so boldly refused to surrender.

They weren't going to yield, the New God told him. Closing his hands into fists, Rafael brought his rear hand back, keeping it close to his chin which he tucked. His lead hand was extended and he turned sideways, minimizing his body's exposure. Leaning back, his head was kept over his back foot. The Neo Achilles stood southpaw. He answered. "You should". His foe burst forward, the air behind him tearing asunder from his blistering speed. Speed that did nothing but highlight a mistake. One that Rafael noticed. 'He's starting his attack with a right cross, a punch that works against sparring partners, not warriors. And with no set-up either. Overconfident. Raw. Perhaps both', Rafael's thoughts echoed. And as his foe over-committed to the right cross, Rafael responded. Bursting forward with a blitzing quickness, the Neo Achilles scorched the air around him, a streak of glowing white burning the oxygen behind him.

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Rafael was fast, beginning his attack simultaneously to his foe's, with the intent of landing first. Stepping in, he leaned his head off the line of his foe's right cross. So that his opponent would miss, and he would land. With what? The picture-perfect counter to the right cross; the left straight. Rafael had timed him and now, now his arm extended and his fist twitched with the power to slay gods and the speed to blind them. The air expanded rapidly around his fist, it's temperature rising far too quickly. The air exploded, erupting as a loud and sharp crack was heard and a shock-wave from the punch came alive; thunder, it's kinetic energy magnified by the 'White Vibranium' of Rafael's armor. His left straight was powerful. A weapon of mass destruction. And as it traveled towards his foe's chin, Rafael was certain that it was the perfect counter.

Not because it was the ideal counter to the right cross. But because he had been training. He had unified his 'Abuskhau' mastery with his martial artistry to achieve one thing; a perfect understanding of his position and the position of the most vulnerable points in a physical body. The result? His punches were always knockout or killing punches. His body kicks were always organ cripplers. And now as his fist sought to crack the most vulnerable point on his foe's chin, the Neo Achilles targeted the knockout spot touched only by flash knockouts. Success or failure, Rafael hopped onto his back-foot, his foe's following jab grazing and lacerating his cheek. And as his opponent sought to swarm him with a flurry of punches, the Neo Achilles sought to counter once more.

Flicking a pawing jab at eye level, if only to mar the New God's eyesight and cover the kick that would come, Rafael stepped forward and spun his body backwards, lifting his knee before exploding, intent on driving his heel into the most vulnerable spot of his foe's liver. The liver shot was crippling. But Rafael's new skills made it into one that could rupture organs, even divine ones.

Soon however, his foe responded with beams of gamma rays. Beams that blasted Rafael across the battlefield and left portions of his flesh burnt and bruised from heat and force. The New God was powerful. Rising from the rubble, Rafael winced and though wounded, he was in proper fighting condition. And as he spat the blood from his mouth and met his foe's gaze, he smirked.

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

@rafael_romeiro: @dreadpool10: @the_shogun: @orion_savage: @curve: @katraya: @quietus: @_drake: @hound_of_war:

As Katraya entered the fray, Klaus stayed behind, twisting a knob on the side of his silver death-device and crouching low behind a piece of fallen cover. Behind it, far out in the street, the conflict raged on, physical blows cracking the pavement beneath and sending shockwaves rippling throughout the district. Turning, he peeked up, only to duck back down beneath as a set of crimson beams tore overhead, leaving searing scars in the wall behind him and almost decapitating him. He narrowed his eyes.

Close, he thought, leaning against his cover. He applied a little pressure to the Death Ray's trigger, watching small red sparks of crackle at its tip. Satisfied, he looked back over. I need a better angle. Or...

"Katraya!" he yelled, hoping to get the attention of the warrior priestess who'd only moments before engaged him. If their senses were as superhuman as their bodies, then it was a safe bet that she'd hear him.

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#27 Edited by The Psyentist (22456 posts) - - Show Bio
No Caption Provided

After grueling search attempts for her secretive clone and former President of the United states Jean Quentin, Alexandra was rewarding herself with a nice vacation getaway in the mutant paradise of Venezuela. Lover of the ex-king of the country, ally of the current Shogun Ivana, and a mutant of considerable power and influence herself (or so her inner dialogue would have known), the Mistress of the Mind was presented with only the finest accommodations at a resort in the nation's capital. Or so she was led to believe as she took a sip of her vermillion beverage. Her ruby lip curled up as she telepathically summoned the wait staff to her location.

“Darling, there is hardly enough ‘Bloody’ in this Mary. Remedy the situation.”

The glass telekinetically parted from her delicate fingers to be taken away by the man. Closing her eyes to bask in the warm Caribbean sun, the Vampiric Vixen ran her fingertips through her golden hair allowing it to fall leisurely around her ivory shoulders. She certainly hoped the drink mishap would be the worst thing to ruin her otherwise lovely day. But things were about to get considerably more irksome.

A shadow cast a coolness upon the region as a figure hovered before the sun just close enough to her location to ruin the tropical atmosphere. Alexandra scoffed, her ebony lashes flickering open, designer sunglasses drawn from her sapphire eyes, an icy gaze rising to see the darkened, distant figure of a caped man. The sight was not completely usual to a place saturated by a superpowered populous, but that didn’t make the annoyance any less. “What the hell is going on?”

@the_shogun The cellphone on the table vibrated, interrupting the serene tune of Moonlight Sonata that had been the only thing keeping her from throwing a building at the current vexation. She very nearly growled as a manicured finger tapped the screen. “Yes?” Her brow arched as her peaked ears caught the slaughter of the English language only ever executed quite so brutally by the Shogun herself.

"Alexandra. Is Ivana. New gods attack. Do me big favor-- explode brains."

“Oh, Ivana. The new what?” She let out a wry laugh. “Of course. I’ll see what I can do. I suppose things were getting a bit boring here anyway. I hope you don’t mind if I finish my drink first. Because that’s what I’m going to do.” Her scarlet lips parted into a scintillating grin. “Do try not to kill all of the ‘new sods’ before I can change out of my suit, darling.”

@curve Taking the phone into her hand, she hung up at the conclusion of the incredibly brief conversation before switching to Beethoven’s Fifth. Moonlight Sonata just didn’t fit the mood anymore. The mutant psychiatrist lay back upon the lounge chair, fingernails tapping against the edge in time with the song as she used her psionic prowess to try and pinpoint these “new gods” assuming they had any brains in their heads at all assaulting such a global superpower as Venezuela. She noticed psychic energy emanating from one of them, a projection of some sort. How quaint. A bolt of telepathic energy sought to interrupt the illusion created to allow easier targeting and fewer clown-induced nightmares for the defending forces.

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@orion_savage After her drink was brought to her, the Psionic Siren’s next target was the one called Orion Savage. She sipped cooly as she considered the foe. Hm. Wasn’t he the one trying to take over from Jean? How far the country has fallen… Opting for a different attack, she focused on the man’s nervous system using the combined efforts of telepathy and telekinesis to induce waves of crippling pain, in essence hoping to use his own body against him. It might at least provide enough distraction for any of Orion’s assailants to catch a breath and renew the fight.

@dreadpool10 Then, just to be a petty bitch, Alexandra used her mind to try to wrap that godawful red cape around the leader’s face. If he was going to ruin her view, she was going to ruin his. Her drink finished, she stood to change into something only slightly less revealing. A wet bikini was hardly the attire for a war. Or whatever the hell this nonsense was. She wondered if her slight attacks would garner any interest, pose her as a threat. Hopefully she’d slither into her skintight leather before they came for her. She had faith the squirrely fighters running around the three gods could keep them busy in the meantime.

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#28 Posted by Katraya (540 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter said:

@rafael_romeiro: @dreadpool10: @the_shogun: @orion_savage: @curve: @katraya: @quietus: @_drake: @hound_of_war:

As Katraya entered the fray, Klaus stayed behind, twisting a knob on the side of his silver death-device and crouching low behind a piece of fallen cover. Behind it, far out in the street, the conflict raged on, physical blows cracking the pavement beneath and sending shockwaves rippling throughout the district. Turning, he peeked up, only to duck back down beneath as a set of crimson beams tore overhead, leaving searing scars in the wall behind him and almost decapitating him. He narrowed his eyes.

Close, he thought, leaning against his cover. He applied a little pressure to the Death Ray's trigger, watching small red sparks of crackle at its tip. Satisfied, he looked back over. I need a better angle. Or...

"Katraya!" he yelled, hoping to get the attention of the warrior priestess who'd only moments before engaged him. If their senses were as superhuman as their bodies, then it was a safe bet that she'd hear him.

Katraya heard all right, but not because of super hearing. Her armor filtered out any words from the background noise and amplified it so she'd hear people yelling, talking and screaming during the course of battle. She cocked her head. gene-lock telepathy level 1. She responded to Lichter not with words but with a telepathic signal, a gentle one that would hopefully not set off any telepathic defenses. Unable to penetrate someone's mind she simply sent a message and that was all. Yes Agent? She asked. She turned her head to look at him in case he was immune to such things, so he'd at least know she had in fact heard him.

Katraya hovered in place, trying to keep one eye on Lichter and one on the new god she was attempting to engage. If her strike impacted him she hoped for and expected retaliation...and needed to be able to move swiftly to avoid anything that might happen.

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#29 Posted by Curve (765 posts) - - Show Bio

"Oooh, someone's not in the mood for play." From his distance, Curve could watch (@lichter) go to the giant 'dream clown' and proceeded to see his creation dissipate from the air. Pursing his lips, the Clown made the closest thing that he possibly could to a frown, albeit it still resembled a grin more than anything. Deep down, Curve wished to go after this one- to strike out at him, to be his death, to drive him absolutely mad. But at the same time, he had his objective... And if the numbers stacked against the new Gods meant anything, he didn't have much time to fulfill said objectives.

Ivana.

"Humpsalot!" Giggling, he couldn't help himself from making the immature name gag, and proceeded to skip down the streets, focused on the Shogunate. That one pest who disrupted his giantness couldn't be everywhere... And he doubted that the Steampunk Valkyrie (@katraya) would either. But the concern was little for those soldiers, as Curve had the confidence that they'd succumb to his personal madness.

And then, suddenly, a new factor blended into the mix- a psionic force that pushed out against his own (@the_psyentist). A surprise, certainly, one that went to aid the first person who tried disrupting his illusion. It worked, too. Grimacing, Curve pondered for a moment if his role in this scheme was made obsolete by the introduction of another mental manipulator. No. The Divus crystals would prevail, Curve was confident. Especially since so much of it's power was granted to him. The God of Madness proceeded down the street, angered, and whenever some poor mutant that failed to evacuate got within range of them they would literally fall over dead- their minds being ripped to shreds.

Curve now walked down a field of death, a few streets away from where any protectors lurked. He planned on slipping right by the defenses- then, when the moment was right, he'd be able to kick back in the Shogunate, standing over Ivana's (@the_shogun) lifeless corpse and awaiting Amarth's (@dreadpool10) arrival.

Today was a good day.

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#30 Edited by deactivated-59c716930b8a6 (9227 posts) - - Show Bio

@_drake: @hound_of_war: @the_psyentist: @katraya:

As Amarth had dared to linger in place whilst optically assaulting the white clad speedster, it began with an unusual baton being slammed against the side of his face. His eyes had widened in mingled fury and facial suffering as the nerves along his face were saturated with agony. He swiveled around in midair, knuckles whitening, ready to unleash an irritable flurry of blows upon his attacker... until his vision was clouded by a thick assemblage of smoke.

Smoke? Really? He smirked, optical gaze shifting into the useful realms of stellar vision to enable him to see past the particles of smoke that had erupted from an arrow. He saw the red adorned contours of the masterful archer in proximity, could hear the whistling of a vermilion arrow. He'd begun to hover away from the baton wielding assailant, ready to emit minuscule rays of heat to disable the arrow. Betrayed by his ignorance to the arrow's flash properties, however, it detonated in a blinding flash, just as an assortment of hafnium miniature missiles slammed into his torso.

It was an explosive symphony of pain. Atomizing heat continuously impacted against his torso, nearly reducing the cape to smoldering rubbish and burning through most of the upper part of his grey attire. The attack bypassing his own personal gravitation, he was hurled upward towards the sky, (@the_psyentist) his cape peculiarly wrapping itself around his face.

Smoke furrowed from his form; his eyes were discomforted by the auburn archer's dazzling arrow, though his vision was gradually coming back into focus. He tore the charred remnants of his cape off of his face, taking a deep breath as he balanced in midair. His the nerves of his face still stung where the baton struck him, and his skin was sore from being superheated by missiles. He'd betrayed a fundamental awareness of his adversaries, and had suffered for it. Not anymore.

You first.
You first.

You first. Difficulty refocusing his efforts on the utilization of X-Ray Vision, he first glanced at the one that had attacked him first (@katraya), gradually hovering down to gain a visual of her pupils and brain. Smart enough to stay at a respectable distance, however, he once again attempted to emit an surgically thin ray of cosmic heat from his eyes, narrowed in a now lethal attempt to enter through the flying woman's pupils. His attempt? To outright lobotomize her brain. However, his physical and ocular discomfort meant that, if successful, the ray could very well burn through her pupils and cripple her vision due to not being in 100% control.

Regardless of the success of his heat vision, he would now streak down from the skies amid a haze of red and blue, attention held upon the progressively designed tank being manned by the individual. Whilst flying towards the individual operating from the tank, a combination of godly senses and optical abilities enabled him to hurriedly locate and spare the archer (@_drake) a fiery glance, in which he would attempt to fire off yet another cosmic beam of heat from his eyes, aimed at his knees. But unlike the other beams, it wasn't narrowed and precise as to cut into the bone or innards, but large enough to simply burn tissue.

Meanwhile, if able to streak down to (@hound_of_war's) tank, he'd rapidly attempt to avoid the cannon whilst maneuvering towards the vehicle's backside. His hands sought to grasp the vehicle's rear, where, in a herculean exhibition of strength, he would actually attempt to lift it from the ground (almost faltering as his skin gave another sore twinge), and begin flying it up into the air.

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#31 Posted by Lichter (5808 posts) - - Show Bio

@katraya:

Silence. Silence and a turned head.

Telepathy. Perfect, he thought with a smile, his theory confirmed as the Oscillator flared ever so slightly just as Katraya had looked at him. Her message had gone unheard, blocked entirely by the Oscillator's ever-fluctuating octarine waves. He wondered if she'd notice his immunity, now working against him if she were trying to communicate. Not once did he consider dropping his defensive veil, however; opening his mind to one such as her would be a woefully stupid maneuver. No, he'd keep his protective shield active, slipping from cover to cover as debris sprinkled around him. Ducking behind another fallen piece of building, he peeked up to watch as the New God began his attack, propping an elbow up on the wreckage. If his beams fried her brain, well...that'd just be an unfortunate casualty. Unpreventable.

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#32 Posted by Katraya (540 posts) - - Show Bio

@dreadpool10: @lichter

The eye pieces of Katraya's helmet burned out almost instantly but her eyes were another matter. With durability on par with the very opponents she was fighting her eyes were resistant to the damage...but not the pain. She hissed in pain and immediately averted her gaze and shunted power to the starboard side of her jet pack, zooming off to the side and out of the beam's path. She blinked several times, her vision was blurry and spotted.

She landed not far from Lichter and resisted the urge to remove her helmet and feel her eyes. Instead she knelt down and placed one hand on the ground. She closed her eyes, taking several long, deep breaths to focus her mind on something other than the pain. She'd felt much worse but whenever one felt pain in their eyes and had trouble seeing, there was always an immediate near panic that they might be blind. She opened her eyes again, blinking several times as the regeneration took over, gradually healing the damage to her nearly burned out retinas. Once her vision cleared she stood again slowly, tracking the movement of the nGod that had so creatively attacked her. Hm...he responded to the pain baton but I was right about his durability. Interesting. The OVK won't hurt him but it can cause a distracton, he'll *feel* it...but my best bet is duel wielding batons and closing the gap. I'm sure he's strong but I can survive that.

"What do you want?" She asked, turning to face Lichter.

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#33 Posted by Lichter (5808 posts) - - Show Bio

@katraya:

The sounds of battle erupted around them, glass cascading from nearby buildings. Klaus stood still calmly, the Death Ray held loosely at waist height. He didn't emote behind the magenta mask, a simple dead-eyed stare at the warrior priestess sufficient for the coming conversation.

"Nothing too important. Just a few preliminary queries. For establishing trust," he said, a flaming piece of wreckage falling behind his back. "First question. Who are you?" he asked, applying gentle pressure to the trigger of the Ray. Red energies pulsated dangerously from the tip, held neutrally at waist height, but aimed directly in front of the Legacy.

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#34 Posted by Katraya (540 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter:

Really? Now? Fine.

"Your timing is truly a masterpiece." She said. "I am Katraya, I was a child kidnapped or created by an entity known as The Organization, they destroyed my childhood to create a weapon called a Hyper Mutant, to create me. I was trained for war, trained to fight, to kill, to seduce and infiltrate. I was saved." She said. "My Sisters are orphans, children with no future or terrible lives ahead of them that I have saved from the streets of cities who have forgotten them. I train them, I feed them, I teach them how to live a purposeful life."

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#35 Posted by Lichter (5808 posts) - - Show Bio

@katraya:

"My Sisters are orphans, children with no future or terrible lives ahead of them that I have saved from the streets of cities who have forgotten them. I train them, I feed them, I teach them how to live a purposeful life."

Is that so, he seethed silently, face utterly blank as she talked. He never changed his posture, save for a slight inclination of his head. The pure white lenses covering his eyes concealed the contraction of his pupils, fixated on Katraya's own formerly-singed eyes. Slowly, he nodded, replacing his weapon in its holster. Klaus reached into his vest, removing the Gottschwert with lithe fingers. His body language, however, indicated that he was not going to strike her; as a trained warrior, he trusted that she would know that.

"You answered my next question as well," he said after a pause, voice dry and emotionless. He glared up at the sky, squinting as another blast of heated vision flared around the square. He looked back to the warrior priestess that stood before him, and extended his empty hand.

"Allies, then?" he hissed, black glove offered in a gesture of camaraderie.

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#36 Posted by Katraya (540 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter:

"That's what I was saying from the moment you arrived." Katraya said and took the offered hand. "The only grudge I hold is against the man who tried to kill me when I came in peace to ask a question." She explained to him. "I'm glad to see you don't make the same mistakes he does." At least you'd better not. She thought. Her gauntlet-ed hand would hold his grip in a naturally strong one...assuming he didn't try to poison/stab/explode/incinerate her in some way of course.

She reached up with her other hand and removed her helmet, its HUD had been burned out and it no longer served any purpose other than to constrict her vision. A neural command to her armor deactivated the hard light projection that constituted the helmet in the first place and it simply vanished.

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#37 Posted by Lichter (5808 posts) - - Show Bio

@katraya:

The handshake was firm, perfectly so. He didn't hear what she said, even though he should have been able to. He caught only the general meaning of what she said, blinking rapidly, his vision seemingly tainted with red. His grip tightened, and he took the deepest breath he could manage.

As one hand locked around Katraya's, Klaus' other squeezed the teleportational dagger's handle so hard that his knuckles turned white under his gloves. A matter-transmission pulse emanated from within his blade, uncanny energies from the pseudoscientific blade deconstructing the atoms of the Delver and the warrior priestess alike in an attempt to take them both in the last direction he'd programmed in:

Up.

Earth's Orbit

With neither sound nor flash they'd reappear in the vacuum, Katraya an unwitting passenger carried alongside the Langley Knave into the vacuum of space. In a fit of sheer rage, he took them to the most lethal place he knew, intent on subjecting the child-killer to the most gruesome, painful death he could imagine. The moment they'd arrive, he'd find himself in a zero-g environment, his freedom of movement now greatly amplified. Pulling himself closer to Katraya, he'd attempt to stab his sword into what remained of her head, all while planting his feet on her chestplate in order to push himself away from her. He had only enough energy for three successive thrusts at her skull, his teeth grit in anger, eyes alight with fire.

Afterwards? He'd push himself from her body with his feet, and return to the Earth. If he could not escape her grip, well, he'd have to take her arm along with him.

From a child soldier to a creator of them, he thought, livid, DIE.

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#38 Edited by Katraya (540 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter:

Only Katraya's training kept her from panicking when they entered the void. Her armor on the other hand kept her from suffocating. The moment the intricate armor detected the lack of atmosphere it automatically shifted styles. The armor shut down the hard light projections and restored itself to baseline form which had the effect of also immediately raising a helmet over her head and pressure sealing itself, as well as starting oxygen circulation through the helmet. Once this was accomplished it automatically established the most durable form it could provide, simulated Adamantium. All of this took place within the beating of a heart.

No Caption Provided

The first stab got through before the armor did its thing, but her extreme durability resulted in the blade making a deep skull revealing gash and shunting off her head rather than causing a wound to her brain. Once the armor was activated, his blade strikes had to deal with durability near the levels of Adamantium. The fact was, unexpected changes to combat were exactly what Hyper Mutants and their equipment were designed for.

Once Katraya got her breathing under control again and he shoved away from her in his raging alpha strike she was able to reorient herself. Her head was swimming, the blade strikes may have failed to prove fatal but they still hurt like hell and disoriented her for a moment. When that moment was over, it was her turn even as her head wound began to heal.

Is it like, a CIA thing? Are they just all completely freaking insane? Genelock, post-combat regeneration, gene lock electrical manipulation level three, gene-lock super strength level 3, gene lock telekinesis level 3. Katraya played dead, or at least unconscious, while he was busy moving away from her and then she launched her own alpha strike.

Channeling her newly acquired powers Katraya reached out towards Lichter and activated a one hundred thousand volt burst of raw electrical power that shot from her finger tips and arched through space. In the open void, there was no sound to give warning. The electricity would have no means of grounding through his body out here but it would, hopefully, blow a hole in his suit..

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This was not the end of her assault. She spotted the nearest satellite and reached towards it. She focused her concentration until the huge device was pulled apart into various sized metallic chunks After that she teleported, vanishing from her current location only to appear in front of Lichter. The torn remains of the satellite were now her weapons as she telekinetically gathered them around herself in a cloud of razor sharp edges. Ready to continue the fight if necessary.

No Caption Provided

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

@katraya:

I'm in space.

The thought nagged at the back of his head as his emergency oxygen supply engaged, his body spiraling away from Katraya's as her powerful defenses activated, saving her from what he'd expected to be a fatal attack. Sucking in emergency air, he exhaled, the carbon dioxide collecting in a small container underneath the back of his neck. He grew cold, but the sealed suit did its job admirably, functioning just like one that of an astronaut. He'd never plan an attack in a vacuum without knowing if he could survive in one.

I'm in space, and she has to die, he thought, eyebrows arching once again. Anger had seized him the moment Katraya had spoken of collecting orphans for processing. She was building a force made up of child soldiers, a particularly sore topic for the Delver of Secrets (for obvious reasons). His momentum had carried him backwards, causing him to flip over and over; keeping Katraya in his line of sight was proving difficult. The only reason he had yet to return to Earth was because she had not yet been killed, and he knew very well that she could also teleport herself. Having relied on the shock of his attack to kill her, he'd not anticipated a fight among the stars.

Suddenly, without warning, nearly a hundred thousand volts of pure electricity shot through the vacuum towards him, coursing over his suit from head to toe. The flash was blinding, forcing him to close his eyes, but he felt no pain; the chemically-resistant suit had been treated to work in high-voltage areas. It was insulated perfectly, and the valuable technology concealed underneath the similarly-crafted vest had not been damaged. Lightning itself has no force; instead, it merely fizzled against his uniform, and dissipated in the vacuum. The brightness, though, had disturbed him, the light burning through his lenses and forcing him to close his eyes.

Lightning outside Earth's orbit. Such an experiment has never been conducted before. This is the first data we have, he realized, pushing aside his thoughts of retribution for but a fraction of a second. Grasping at the Death Ray, he activated it slightly, the recoil slowing his momentum and stopping him from turning head-over-heels. Gripping it with both hands, he spotted Katraya in the distance, now far off from where he'd kicked himself away. She'd torn apart a satellite somehow, and was now juggling the remains threateningly.

We'll add least 50 million dollars worth of property damage to her list, then. A list including the murder of forty-three innocent people in the DC blackout. And the conscription of child soldiers. Butchery of the future.

His hands shook, long gloved fingers twisting the knobs on the side to the highest settings.

Inhumanity.

Raising the Ray, he fired a disintegration blast that would move at laser-like speeds, blasting Klaus himself backwards from the recoil. The crimson wave of energy would tear through everything in their hemisphere, a comet-like streak that would be visible in brightest day back on planet Earth. The energy would eat away at whatever it touched, tearing through the vacuum and ripping across molecules with forces that bordered on mystically destructive.

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#40 Edited by Katraya (540 posts) - - Show Bio

@lichter:

As he raised his pistol Katraya attempted to estimate where the shot would go and used her telekinesis on herself to move to one side. It was slower than she had hoped. At the same moment she flung her cloud of razor sharp, jagged bits of metal end over end towards Lichter at a high rate of speed. The ray gun's shot impacted her right shoulder and immediately sent her spiraling out of control towards the planet below. The armor itself flickered as it struggled to absorb such immense damage and then failed utterly. The adamantium hard light vanished but her ordinary armor remained, though the shoulder was fused in place and its projectors destroyed.

For her part, Katraya was pulled in by the Earth's gravity and began an uncontrolled re-entry. Fire ignited all around her as she fell at increasing rates of speed and felt increasing heat as her armor began to fail completely. Never one to panic she immediately teleported back to the original combat zone in Venezuela. She had hoped it would kill her momentum, it did not and she slammed into the ground at terminal velocity. Fortunately what it did do was get her out of the fire of re-entry. The success of this move prevented her armor from totally disintegrating and allowed it to absorb a fraction of the impact. Fortunately a combination of her combat-level regeneration and her incredible durability prevented her from dying.

For a moment she lay still, eventually however Katraya forced herself to her feet, shedding her armor and doing her best to ignoring the new stabbing pains that her body was only just beginning to heal from. Now dressed in only her ordinary armor Katraya was furious. I'm not here for this, I'm here to fight these 'divine' blasphemers and yet I can't even fight alongside my mother loving allies without being assaulted.

Wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth Katraya activated her communication device. "Prep silos three, four and five." She ordered. She then waited for her opponent to dare and re-appear.

No Caption Provided

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#41 Edited by The Psyentist (22456 posts) - - Show Bio

@dreadpool10:

No Caption Provided

Amidst the tumultuous popping of gunfire and ear-shattering explosions, Alexandra remained cool and collected as she began her meticulous routine. It was too bad her drink couldn’t have been superpowered blood, but she wasn’t about to get on Ivana’s bad side by betraying her hospitality, eating her mutant compatriots outright. Slipping from her bathing suit, the Vampiric Vixen donned her characteristic snowy attire before adjusting her luxurious, tawny locks framing her perfect, porcelain complexion. Her delicate gloved hand slid her frost ring upon her slender index finger before setting to work rubbing silver lipstick upon her lips for a finishing touch of vain pursuit. Those lustrous lips curled at the edges as her icy blue eyes stared into the mirror. Now, let’s see about those petulant gods…

Flying from the balcony of her hotel room, the mutant mistress used her telekinetic aptitude to propel herself toward the one who seemed to be the leader. Her silken cape flickered behind her like a white flame, her leather clad body was a vision in ivory hovering with ease in the warm air, mind energy swirling around her like an invisible shield. A cold gaze fell upon Darkevius, her icy eyes narrowing, as she extended a satin palm toward him dispelling the built up energy into a wave of psychokinesis raging towards him to push him back and away from his softer targets below.

“I believe the phrase is ‘pick on someone your own size.’ Fledgling god, why don’t you try a mutant goddess?”

Telekinetic energy wrapped around her voluptuous frame, a simple but formidable defense, as she waited for a reaction from the intruder. She had little desire to fight with him, combat was so sweaty and gauche, but she would do what was necessary to protect her interests. “Would you seek to make us enemies for a moment of grandeur against the Shogun? I would have been content to let the new gods do as they will elsewhere. But you have brought your warmongering here, this established haven for my kind. Darling, mutantkind was forged through the trials of evolution. I think we’ve earned some goddamned peace and quiet. But should it turn to war and thunder…” her silvery lips parted into a pearly grin, “we will prevail.”

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#42 Posted by Lichter (5808 posts) - - Show Bio

@katraya:

A jolt of unusual satisfaction ran through Klaus' body as his attack connected, launching Katraya from where she'd floated down to the surface of the planet with a trail of heat behind her. She'd not been entirely disintegrated, which put her death into question; he doubted she'd lose her life in the fall, if she'd been able to survive in space. The psychological damage would hopefully be more than enough to cripple her forever.

Preparing to leave, however, he noticed small glints of light streaking towards him. Before he could react, the small slivers of metal crashed into him, the impacts rippling across the synth-fluid vest and threatening to puncture the hyper-membrane keeping the Delver alive in space. A large chunk struck him in the chest, knocking the wind from his lungs and sending him spiraling backwards. Another piece of debris struck his wrist, jolting the small wiring inside his sleeve and disengaging the mag-locks keeping his weapons in hand. Shocked by the pain, he instinctively let go of both weapons and grasped at his wrist, wincing in pain.

Perhaps broken...oh.

His eyes widened, neck snapping to the side as he watched his dagger float away, slightly off to the side moving at a similar trajectory. Panic seized him, his hurt arm forgotten as he flailed about, legs and arms moving in vain as the teleportational dagger that was to return him to Earth gently bobbed out of reach.

No worries. The recoil from my Death Ray will be more than enough -

He glanced to his right, face falling as he saw the glint of his Ray, spinning wildly off towards the moon.

Five Minutes Later

...not like this, not like this, not like this, he thought, eyes closed, breathing hard. With every gulp of oxygen, he kicked himself mentally, knowing he had only a half-hour of air left. He'd stopped flailing pointlessly, unable to propel himself through a vacuum using only his arms; he'd considered using one of his propellant-based weapons, but he had yet to restock the cyanoacrylate adhesive since he'd last used it in the CIA headquarters.

I have thirty minutes. They'll send someone up. Jones' jet is spaceflight-ready. Thirty minutes, he thought, closing his eyes. He drifted further around the planet, eyes snapping back open as he remembered what time it was.

Hovering over the dark side of the Earth, Klaus was safe from the sun's heat. The synth-suit was more than capable of protecting him from the cold, but the direct heat of the sun would cook him alive. His breathing accelerating again, he heaved, moving his arms and legs again like a turtle stuck on its back. His actions futile, he could only watch hopelessly as the scorching light of the sun crept around the edge of the planet, perhaps seconds away from frying him alive. To his left, the dagger was woefully near, yet barely out of reach; he could almost touch it. Groaning, he reached as far as he could, the shining blade mere inches from his fingertips.

The sun rays touched his leg, sweat developing on the inside of his suit. It was beginning to become uncomfortably hot.

Flapping his other hand, he tried to reach closer, his rationale forgotten as he entered panic mode. Their trajectories were almost in line...the knife was closer than before...

Fingertips brushing it, he could only watch as it spun further away. Letting loose a frustrated scream none could hear, he flailed mindlessly, sweat building up his lower torso as the yellow rays heated his uniform. His hair was soaked already, and it was almost too bright to see. Coughing, he squinted, glaring at the dagger as it spun out of his reach.

Not like this.

Gripped with an idea, he stopped moving, reaching up to his neck. Fingers wrapping around the seam between his mask and the rest of the suit, he felt out his small oxygen supply, a tiny tube containing what left of his air source. If it didn't work, it'd be better to decompress than to cook alive, right?

Frowning, he took one last breath, unhooking the supply from the rest of the mask.

Flying forwards, he grasped wildly for his weapon, the dagger bouncing off one arm and spinning before the speeding Knave. His right hand, however, found its mark, fingers wrapping around the hilt and instantly activating the dagger as the last of his air supply ran out.

German Hillside

Having finished throwing up, Klaus rose weakly from his knees, clutching at his head. He looked up at the sky, the classic cure for nausea. Feeling his right arm, he wondered if it had been broken; he seemed to have escaped with only a fracture. Choking down a pain pill, he flexed his fingers experimentally, wincing. He'd done enough work for today, but his Ray was still in space. He could contract someone to retrieve it...or he could fetch it himself. The moon was still out of the sun's light, after all.

Replacing his hood, he blinked, wrapping his mouth around a small tube within the hood. Reconnecting the oxygen supply with lithe fingers, he breathed in, refilling the tube on the back. Holding his breath, he spat out the tube, reaching inside the mask to hook it back into place. Testing the apparatus for a moment, and satisfied that it was functional, he withdrew his dagger once more, setting the coordinates for the moon's location.

0°4'5"N latitude, 23°42'28"E longitude (Lunar Surface)

Blinking back into existence upon the surface of the moon, Klaus strode forward, only to bounce higher in the lower gravity. Falling forwards slightly, he tripped, falling slowly down to a knee as moon dust picked up around him. Laughing, he pushed off from the ground, leaping towards the Ray's beacon location. Flapping his arms, he bounded over a crater, developing a rhythm and quickly traversing the lunar surface. It was a welcome change of tone, almost cathartic. He felt like a child again.

Alighting over a nearby crater, he looked over, spotting the American flag.

What coincidence, he thought, squinting at the pole. Looking down, he picked up his Ray, weighing it in his hand. It'd landed perfectly intact, and still on, to boot. Replacing it in his belt, he bounced over to the flag, stopping gently beside it. Smiling, he reached out, and touched it gently. He sighed, grinning.

Enough fun.

Clicking the dagger once more, he vanished, moon dust kicked up in his wake.

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#43 Edited by _Drake (14900 posts) - - Show Bio

@dreadpool10: @hound_of_war

Ouch. Those were the only words echoing in Drake's mind as he clumsily lost equilibrium mid air, a heated beam of energy scorching through his right leg's skin, instantaneously burning it. Releasing his grip on the edge of the roof, the Auburn Archer hit the ground back-first, rolling into a standing position whilst distributing the impact throughout his entire body. His trembling hand ripped off a huge chunk of his crimson clothing, more specifically around his left arm. His expression was that of sore, beady eyes as he reluctantly wrapped his wound with an improvised clothing bandage.

It didn't make it any easier to walk, so he leapt in one foot for quite a while, anxiously sweating with clenched fists. "Ah, crap, this shit hurts too much." Drake grunted, reclining against a wall as he leisurely allowed himself to fall to a sitting position. He couldn't help it, all those people running in panic and he was just one more of them.

No, even worse, those were mutants, after all. But he? He was just average.

"A good time to throw in the towel like I always do. Heh, I bet I've been secretly waiting for this moment to come all this time. Getting all worked up because I was hired by some secret agency, because I could probably start making a name for myself... That's not what I signed up for, that's not why I do any of this. Now my right leg's fluffed and I just managed to make him even more pissed off." He paused, eyes shifting towards the onslaught of his antagonists, instilling desperation onto people's hearts, figures that would lately become harbingers of hopelessness and control, hovering above humans as their very leaders. Sighing, Drake slowly got back on both of his feet, still painfully limping as he transfered the weight to his left side whenever he stumbled onwards. "Yeah, I should quit."

He chuckled.

"I am going to regret this later. Freaking hell, I better get my bonus reward tripled." Drake picked up a pace, despite all the pain inflicted at each step, he begun running once more. "Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch." Taking his bow off his back, Crimson Arrow aimed at the titan who had wounded him (@dreadpool10). Another arrow fired? No, this time they were four, fired on groups of two. However, as distance grew closer, one of those would unfurl onto a metallic net, the other three containing high voltages. The teenager grinned. "Things are about to get more electric."

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#44 Edited by Hound_of_War (3944 posts) - - Show Bio

@dreadpool10:

Julian fired his automated turrets at the divine flying invader, but he couldn’t tag it. Inevitably, Amarth got behind the tank and started lifting it into the air, but Julian wasn’t at the wheel anymore. It felt like the moment you are inside a rollercoaster and you are being pushed upward, only to eventually be dropped down from an immeasurable height. He only had a few moments before he was thrown.

“Activate code: lighting and code: fireworks”

Julian had gone into platonic tank’s lower floor; he was only wearing a black fireproof two piece without shoes. Four claws begun picking up disassembled armor pieces and fitting them around Julian, two claws handled one half while the other sealed the other.

Automatically, the computer pressed a blue button in the panel with a tiny lightning bolt. The tank would release an electricity wave of 100,000,000 volts. More than enough to kill twenty, not that he suspected it would hurt him, but it would at least annoy him.

"Door."

Next to the blue button, there was a red one with fireworks drawn on top of it. A series of flares would be released from behind, usually used to blind heat seeking missiles. At least they should be able to compromise his vision while he changed into something more appropriate.

Julian picked up the last piece and placed it on his head and the machines drilled it in.

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#45 Posted by Curve (765 posts) - - Show Bio

"Well, isn't this disappointing." Curve clicked his tongue, as he arrived at the palace in the heart of the Shogunate. Behind him, mutants and new Gods clashed, the sounds of combat ringing out over the skies. For all Curve knew, the other new Gods were dead. But he sincerely doubted it- after all, Amarth didn't seem the losing type. Strolling up the steps to the palace, he began to imagine different ways to liven up the monstrously grim holdings, when all of a sudden a new presence was found- a new mind to reach out to. Soon, it became several, as the further he walked towards the place, the more minds he found.

Before advancing any further, Curve drew his Glock, cocking back the hammer. Though he wasn't one for actual combat, there were always times when such brutality was necessary. Soon, the enemy came into view- Orochi. Narrowing his eyes, he walked forward, mind racing as it tapped into the ninjas'. In the eyes of the two Orochi warriors before him, there was nothing. Not because of a simple invisibility trick, however, no. Curve had altered the minds of the Orochi, to the point where they had a complete disbelief that anything was there before them. Giggling like a school girl, the Clown Prince skipped up to one and removed his glove, tapping the shinobi on the nose.

Luckily for Curve, the change was immediate. A rippling of the skin as it lost opacity, becoming whiter and whiter till it was almost ghost-like. Brown eyes changing into a rippling green. Cheek muscles involuntarily stretched out to form a smile, as lips turned to a bloody red. And of course, a twist of the mind, a perfect connection made in the amygdala between joy and death. Curve now ceased his mind games on this particular Orochi, letting the converted ninja see him clearly now. "Go get your friends, now, y'hear?" Curve smiled, patting the ninja on the shoulder as he strode off. He would go to touch another member of the Orochi- giving them the disease that made Curve Curve- and that member would go off to touch someone, and so on and so forth.

Spreading like rats.

Chuckling aloud, Curve skipped forth to the inside of the palace, now using his telepathic assault on everyone around him so that he wouldn't be seen by even the keenest eyes and ears. However, any normal camera could easily find him. Which was what the Clown counted on.

No Caption Provided

"Oh Ivaaaaanaaaaaa...." He called out, his voice ringing throughout the palace's halls. "Where aaaaaaaaaaaaareeeeee youuuuuuu....." (@the_shogun)Cackling, Curve strode up to the empty throne and took a seat, crossing his legs. This job was easy! Now, all he had to do was wait for his enemies to arrive, or wait for his friends to. Glancing at the Orochi members that were now already converted to Clown-like beings, he smiled even wider, before making a couple of business calls. Closing his eyes, he accessed the mind of Amarth.

In Amarth's eyes, Curve would appear beside him, regardless of actual location, and would speak. "Heya, slugger. How's it goin? I made it to Ivana's palace, but turns out the Strigidae wants to play hard-to-get. Can't find her, see. So... I'll hold down the fort? Or what?" With a shrug, the illusion disappeared- however, Curve'd hear whatever Amarth had to respond with (@dreadpool10).

Cackling, Curve sat back in his chair, glancing around his environment. New Gods, Mutants... No matter who won the battle.

It would be the Clown that came out on top.

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#46 Edited by Orion_Savage (714 posts) - - Show Bio

@rafael_romeiro: @the_psyentist:

It happened in a relative instant, a flash of white, a crippling pain originating in his brain and the tang of blood in his mouth. The mutant powerhouse before him managed to counter his reckless right-cross, and a fist slammed into his chin with unimaginable power. But how? He'd just barely saw the punch coming despite his foes blistering speed, and was primed to move his head to prevent direct contact with his jaw...and then he remembered the intense agony within his body right when it happened. He couldn't move, and the air around them exploded in fury, as Orion's world grew dark, if only for the ticks of a nanosecond. A god of his level would not be overcome so easily, and Orion wiped blood from his smoking chin while staring at his opponent in red-eyed interest.

While Orion would speed forward with the intentions of overwhelming his foe with a fast flurry of punches, the white jaguar threw a quick jab towards his eyes, to which Orion's senses responded with urgency. His mind took no time to process information his divine vision detected, and Orion, granted godly levels of speed from ascension saw his opponents body language. Orion saw the spin and knew that his foe was preparing to deliver a devastating kick. As the punch was thrown the nGod of the weak interaction crouched at ground level and kicked out his leg, hoping to cause his opponent, who was ideally still launching his kick due to Orion's immense speed and thus standing on one leg, to falter.

Orion would follow up, bringing his hands together and attempting to smash his foe deep into the ground with continent shattering force. Regardless of the results from that assault, the battle would continue as Orion let loose a stream of intense radiation. His foe stood tall as he rose, smoking, from the rubble, with a grin that expressed he sure of himself. Orion grinned evenly in response, eyes still red from the previous release of gamma rays. His smirk grew when his eyes shot out another continuous stream of gamma rays, twice as hot as the previous release. His intent was to fry his opponent, leave him nothing but bone as he walked forward with all the arrogance of a god, increasing the heat and power the closer he got.

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#47 Posted by The_Shogun (4803 posts) - - Show Bio

@curve:

Bunker X529

"Ma'am? Disturbance reported at the Palace. Its.. its the clown. He's in the throne room.."

"Great. Okay. Tachyon amp." Ivana said, the last phrase addressed to the mechanized armor's voice control system.

A hum begin to emit from the suit, growing higher and higher pitched. The scientists and engineers backed away. "If it explode, everyone fired."

After several increasingly tense moments a symbol flicked from yellow to green inside Ivana's virtual realty command HUD. With a thought she activated the teleporter on her belt, tachyon amp providing the additional power to teleport Ivana all the way to the-

-Shogunate Palace-Fortress

Ivana appeared with deafening BANG. The Shogun X armor's increased size violently displacing far more atmosphere with its arrival. And gifting Ivana a splitting headache as the massive discharge created an extraordinarily painful feedback loop.

"Nnnnggg." Inside the suit she grunted and dropped to one knee, metallic silver pressing into the dew damp soil and leaving an imprint three inches deep.

Goddamn eggheads. Could have warned me.

But that was life. Painful and surprising. So she took a breath, ignored the sensation of nails driving into her head and stood up. One step, then the next and soon she was placing massive silver hands upon the huge metal doors of her throne room. She pushed them open and stepped through.

The clown set in her throne. A clown in the throne of the mutant people. Her people.

A joke. It was a joke. A joke of her life's work. A joke out of every dead friend. A joke from her father's dreams.

Ivana wielded the door closed behind her.

The wielding laser in the suits wrist hissed as she deactivated it and turned to face him.

She didn't say anything.

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#48 Posted by Curve (765 posts) - - Show Bio

@the_shogun:

As Curve was sitting around the palace like royalty, the doors to his throne room opened, and a silver-clad exosuit stormed in. Grin growing, he signaled the converted Orochi members around him to surround the room, and they did so- weapons still sheathed, but still wary. "Who dares to enter my Shogunate?" He cackled, stamping his feet at the base of the throne out of amusement. Crimson lips stretching out to recreate an almost impossible smile, his eyes surveyed the metal suit carefully, impressed by the design. Curve recognized her- or, at least, believed it was her. Ivana, the Shogun, seemed like she would wear something like this, this chrome samurai.

Of course, it was stupid to approach the Clown like this. Curve could only theorize that his message had gotten across, and that her actions were fueled by anger.

Or better yet, she's got no idea what I'm capable of.

Smile widening even more at this thought, Curve decided to do nothing at the moment. A little foreplay, if anything. "Don't worry, Shogun, I've done no harm to your palace. Just a change in the guard, a little new management..." He gestured to himself. "Livening up the place, y'see."

He was quiet for a moment, but soon resumed speaking.

"Do you know what I'm the god of, exactly, Shog- Ms. Strigidae?" He corrected himself, as Curve was now the Shogun, in his own perspective. Presumably, she didn't. He hadn't actually gotten to EXPLAIN it to anybody, yet, and the brainwashed soldiers were an old trick of his. Green eyes illuminating brighter than before, he willed an illusion to show up beside Ivana, a trick within her own mind. A silver samurai, resembling her own, but with the facemask removed- leaving only the face of the Clown Prince.

"The God of Madness, my dear. Yours included." The illusion spoke now, voice sinister.

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#49 Edited by Rafael_Romeiro (2566 posts) - - Show Bio

@orion_savage:

The cloud of dust and rubble thinned in the air, dispersing as the Neo Achilles rose from the ground to stand to his full height. He rolled his shoulders and neck, specs of dust and rock falling from his ivory armor, gloved fists clenching as he held his bruised and scorched features in earnest. He'd been blasted across the battlefield, smashed into the ground, and as he found himself standing once more, his body wounded but willing, his dark hazel eyes stared back at the New God's and held them in a gaze whose message was clear. 'You should surrender. You're powerful. Perhaps nine out of ten times you can win. But I need only one to end your life'. For a moment, he felt a creak in his joints... but it didn't matter.

Rafael needn't fight at his full power. His strange mastery over 'Abuskhau' had granted him the ability to always strike the sweet spot. The knockout shot, the liver shot... this was Dim Mak come alive. His foe had already proven himself vulnerable to his counter-striking game. Wounded as he was, the Neo Achilles was confident. But he was given no reprieve. The New God's eyes glowed with power, and roared as a stream of gamma rays threatened to scorch Rafael to the bone. Rafael was durable, even by the standards of a superhuman powerhouse. And the armor he wore featured a rapid-twitch reflex co-polymer, colloidal doped ceramics and a copper-based nano-lattice in an ethylene-buckyball matrix. In simple terms, it protected him from large doses of energy and radiation.

And yet, as he crossed his arms before his face, doing what he could to block the New God's blast, he felt the energy and heat seep into his skin. He felt it cook his skin and could have sworn he heard his skin sizzle. It was the kind of heat that tightened his skin, made it feel as though his bones were pushing against his flesh. He winced and gritted his teeth. Patches of his flesh were now burnt, and he felt his nervous system threaten to yield. Despite everything that should have allowed him to walk through his blast, his durability and armor.. the New God was simply that powerful. But power doesn't win battles. Skill does. And in Rafael's mind, their difference in skill was not subtle. "Don't be a pussy", Rafael goaded, hoping to antagonize his foe.

It didn't matter. The energy was enough. Unknowingly, the New God had offered him the means to fuel his counter-striking approach. Kinetic energy from the blast. The 'white vibranium' of his armor had absorbed and amplified it, and now, now Rafael redirected it in a flash. A blast. A blast that shone brighter than the sun and reduced all in it's path to plasma, a blast that blitzed towards the New God. A blast born from the kinetic energy he'd gifted the Neo Achilles. It was his chance. The blast was powerful, but it's purpose was to set up Rafael's attack. It was to shine bright, blind his foe and force him to rely on his other senses. Standing southpaw, he sprung forward, his body blurring with the grace and power of a speedster, a molten trail left in his wake.

No Caption Provided

'If he can't see, he's going to try and detect my movement and position using something else. Using his hearing or whatever New God sense he has', Rafael thought, confident that 'Abuskhau' offered him a greater understanding of their positions. He'd pop up before his foe, his southpaw stance doing all it could to lure his foe into throwing a punch with his right; a punch that seemed to make sense against a southpaw. And should the right punch come, Rafael'd spring off-line to his own left, moving behind the elbow of his foe's right arm, the angle at which the New God would be unable to mount any worthwhile offense. And from there, Rafael'd drive off of his left foot with a sniping left straight before stepping through with a right straight down the middle.

The one-two punch combination twitched with god-slaying power, speed, and 100% accuracy, targeting the sweet spot on the New God's skull while his foe (hopefully) stood on one leg attempting to turn to face the attack. Those were the power blows, the ones that threatened to rock (if not knockout) his foe. But now? Now Rafael sought the killing blow. He knew the New God would be conscious. And here, the Neo Achilles would pounce. He'd flick his knee up, faking a push kick to the gut.

'A faked kick. It might get him to step back a bit.. till he realizes the kick's a fake. Then I guess he'll come forward again. Good, that's what I need. Him coming forward', and into the path of a countering left straight, the third and final one, his arm extending fully from the shoulder, his closed fist burning the air with it's power and speed, thunder roaring and it's kinetic energy multiplying as 'Abuskhau' guided it. It was the death blow. The one to shut down the New God's nervous system and end his life.

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#50 Edited by deactivated-59c716930b8a6 (9227 posts) - - Show Bio

@the_psyentist: @_drake: @hound_of_war:@curve:

"Heya, slugger. How's it goin? I made it to Ivana's palace, but turns out the Strigidae wants to play hard-to-get. Can't find her, see. So... I'll hold down the fort? Or what?"

<"You do that, Curve, I'll be on my way soon.">

It was an unusual instance, as a curvaceous woman clad in desirably revealing garments hovered near his level. Though effortlessly holding the tank above his head, Darkevius' body quivered and began to sail backwards from the psychokinetic push. He restrained himself from rolling his eyes as she spoke, hearing snatches of "pick on someone your own size" and "warmongering" and "peace and quiet for mutants". Were it not for the fact that he was in the middle of attacking Venezuela, he might've told her to shut up. Or, perhaps, if she hadn't spoken at all, he might've paused for flirtatious banter.

"AGHHH!"

An enraged bellow suddenly escaped his lips, his mind literally jolted back into the action as 100,000,000 volts painfully surged through his body. He drew hastened breaths as he mentally sought the source of his pain.

The Tank!

Another annoyance, and yet, a stone to take out another. His eyes flickered back to the hovering telekinetic, muscles trembling as he maintained his grasp upon the tank. His vision was hazed by the eruption of flares, preventing him from discovering the pilot's location - not that he was attempting to. He blindly hurled the tank forward in the direction where he'd last seen the telekinetic, regretful that it might tarnish (or possibly even deaden) her beauty, but determined all the same.

Another relatively small object whistling through the air, fired with the precision of an uncannily skilled marksman. The archer.

He couldn't see the vermilion shaft due to the flares, nor did he move fast enough to prevent the metallic prison from expanding over him. Another wave of aching annoyance gripped him as three electric arrows activated, chaining electricity throughout the cage and threatening to magnify the soreness of his skin.

ENOUGH.

His heart skipped and skirted a few beats. His temples throbbed, inconvenienced by an electrically induced migraine. As he tore through his restraints like paper, it dawned on him that this was ultimately getting him nowhere. The Shogun remained at large and the siege was strewn with her allies.

"Would you seek to make us enemies for a moment of grandeur against the Shogun? I would have been content to let the new gods do as they will elsewhere. But you have brought your warmongering here, this established haven for my kind. Darling, mutantkind was forged through the trials of evolution. I think we’ve earned some goddamned peace and quiet."

Was she right? Was it wrong of him to deny the tranquility of lesser evolved for the simple renown of those he considered greater? Was it immoral of him to lay the groundwork for nGods in such a haven? To perturb peace and establish an Olympus of Gods?

But then, didn't Xenon do the same thing, but for mutants? Didn't THEY earn their place here through warmongering and slaughter?

The snowy clad woman was a fool, and simply uniformed with her home's bloody history. And it was foolish to question his motives at this point, not when there were those already putting their lives on the line for his proclamation!

As a fresh surge of determined vigor blocked out his doubts, he powerfully descended, his breaths sharp. As scarlet boots impacted against the concrete ground, a violent tremor ruptured across a considerable radius, carrying enough power to moderately fissure a few buildings in the nearby vicinity like an earthquake.

But feeling he had little time to dawdle with the Shogun's persistent allies, he would manipulate his personal gravitational field to impossibly hurl himself through the cool air and towards the palace. He half expected the archer, the pilot, and the woman to follow, but with any luck, he and Curve to take them on whilst downing the Shogun herself...