@hand_of_nordok: Pulling the strings I see.. I can dig that :P
Shogunate of Venezuela [CVnU Empire]
Till this point, her countenance had oozed nothing but an earnest and even aggressive air. Though at his mention of the New Gods' home, her spirits were lifted. And to some strange degree, the sight was endearing, even if subtly. Holding back a calm raise of his eyebrow, Rafael answered her question, all but ignoring her implied sense of superiority. "The city's said to be somewhere in Greece's airspace. We get to Greece and rumor has it that if we get high enough into the clouds, and if we're powerful enough, some mysterious energy or whatever will take us there", he paused. "And we're powerful enough", Rafael said, his voice echoing with the cold confidence of apex predators. "I won't need you to carry me".
For a moment, his gaze shot skyward before, at the end of the alien's second question, returning to meet hers once more. "I've fought these gods before. I've felt their power and they've felt mine", he paused once more, remembering their comparable speed and power but their difference in skill. "And their leader ran from me. So I'm hunting him down", the Neo Achilles reminded. "I don't need preparation. I don't need to get ready. I've been ready the moment we collided, and they went running".
Return of the Forgotten Pastor
Dark memories, which had been defensively buried deep in the unreachable recesses of the sub-conscious, had suddenly been set free. Momentarily assaulting the weary Warden of the False Bay as he photographically recalled in vivid detail the trials and tribulations he faced along side his father, the Great Khan. For once upon a time they had aided the exiled survivors of the now infamous, Venezuelan genocide. Guiding and protecting the mass exodus through the South American forestation out to the coastline. Before eventually being ferried across the Atlantic to the Western Cape South Africa, the Rooi-Els. To their new home in the False Bay, the Kwazulu Alcazar. The King of Orphans was born that day. Crowned and tasked with shielding the surviving refugees while insuring their communal integration and social contributions.
He had sworn then never to return, but as the old adage went, never say never.
Venezuela; the Shogunate. Home of the reigning idol of international intimidation. Tattooed and unforgiving. A cult following of disciplined disciples at her disposal, her warrior spirit and military resources undefeated. But none of that had compelled the Vibranium Maharajah to make the treacherous journey back to the country that knows know defeat. To endure the long crawl through the unknown tunnel that had years earlier served as the Bashir's heroic underground railroad.
Emerging through a sand buried rusted hatch, Ali immediate took stock of the devastated landscape. Most likely the result of the unexplained Orc based assault; just one in a laundry list of would be hardasses seeking to dethrone the queen of the Vibranium Throne. Unsuccessful one and all, yet the toll it had taken on the topography was beginning to show.
Donning his own vibranium laced sheath, though visually thicker and bulkier then his ceremonial Habit; damaged during the Icelandic war, the journey inward would be fraught with danger as outsiders dare not upset the dictatorial climate in and around the unscathed capital. Yet Ali was stubborn intent on gaining the Shogun's ear. And so he pressed onward. Impressive speed and elusiveness guiding his path. Street savvy awareness permitting his unnoticed thefts. A duster and goggles, as well as a traditional Arab Shemagh-Keffiyeh to complete the weathered facade. Allowing smooth and unimpeded travels for the forseeable future. Or so the self-assured trespasser thought.......@rafael_romeiro:
Venezuela's finance minister, he'd gathered his allies; Trinity Blue and Great Samson. Together, they'd be the trio to bring the nGods to their knees. For now however, the Neo Achilles' mind wandered elsewhere. He strode through the halls of his posh estate, his posture oozing a swagger and subtle charisma as natural as the instinct to breathe, his amber eyes gazing upon the two large Vibranium doors that stood before him, a flicker of a smile curling on his features of devastating charm as he watched the doors part open with the hiss of cool gas echoing from the sides. Striding past the doors, Rafael entered a lone room. It was dimly lit, and at it's center, a lone light shined upon a wine red 2016 Pagani Huayra.
And yet, as he strode forward, it's key in his left hand, his mind welcoming the thought of a cool drive through Caracas, the watch on his wrist beeped. A beep from the automated probes that hung round the city searching day and night for non-mutant trespassers. It beeped once more, transmitting it's coordinates of the trespasser's location. Rafael's features grew earnest, and the same mute intensity and warrior's aggression that played a part in sending the nGods reeling during their attack on Venezuela, the air that came together with his death-dealing counter-striking to send the nGods running, it all came alive in that very moment. A quick turn of the heels, and the Neo Achilles had disappeared.
He was gone. And he accelerated. Accelerated till the gusts of air that trailed after him grew violent and superheated, leaving streaks of scorching red in their wake. His muscle fibers twitched with the speed and power to rival the nGods that he now hunted, and he accelerated once more. The air burned and rippled as thunder roared, it's shock-wave just shy of shattering the reinforced glass of neighboring buildings. He was a blur of glowing red. The air burned hot, so hot his clothes were burned off his skin, and their scorched remains hung as gleaming dust in the air all about him. Where his clothes had burned, his 'White Vibranium' emerged from his pores, dressing his body in plates of ebony and ivory.
His watch beeped once more, and Rafael came to a stop. The hot air crashed into trees, scorching and creaking their trunk, and blasting their burning leaves into the air. The trespasser was in the area. Yet another beep, and the Neo Achilles' eyes caught sight of him, of the pinpointed intruder. Striding towards him, flair dripping from his movement, a presence of impenetrable confidence cast by his gaze and manner. "You're no mutant", Rafael began. "Why are you here?".
Rafael's eyes trailed him, their amber shade holding the quality of an apex predator. A subtle, forward roll of his armored shoulders, and the Neo Achilles held the trespasser's gaze. And while the Adonic charm oozed by his features told of a man from Venus, a confidence colder than ice told of a warrior from Mars. Holding his features in earnest, his posture never less than global, his muscle fibers twitching with the explosiveness and speed that shamed the gods whose physique his mirrored. The air had thickened, tension and anticipation hanging heavy as time itself seemed to lie in wait for what would soon transpire. There was no condescension in his stride, no arrogance. Only a confident swagger that echoed the mind of a warrior who never considered defeat.
A step further and he stood some inches from the Warden of the False Bay. Rafael's hand raised to his chest, and with a cool gesture of his hand, beckoned the his would-be foe forward. "Sure", he simply answered, while his gesture dared him to come forward.
Unexpectedly the human who dared to defy an empire shifted his disposition. Curling his arms behind his back before glancing at the self-assured gesture and physical encroachment of the Ivory Highlight, "As you wish." Short and direct. Ali's emotionless ingress and distant cadence further aided by the facial concealment afforded by his panther themed facial plate and helmet.
Obscuring any observable micro-flashes of expression. Not a act in an of itself patented to, or for, the unknown warrior before him, but rather a rudimentary and easily applied precaution. Failure to mask or camouflage an exploitable weakness, such as sub-conscious facial nuances, had been a hard lesson learned during the Bashir's early tutelage.
Suddenly without warning, and an ocean's worth of hope, the Bashir Bishop's personally engineered UAV dropped down behind the armored Adonis in purely distraction based capacity. Ever so slight or faint. Moving in rehearsed chorus Ali deployed his Circle V's while acrobatically scaling the nearest building and its wall, up to its roof. Making a mad dash towards the majestic towers of the royal headquarters looming over the horizon.
Or was he? Was it the Black Republican futility trying to out run the World's greatest speedster? Or had the False Bay warden managed to fabricate a digital replication of himself whilst slipping down a back ally. Only the mutant master of motion knew the answer to that.
Ingenious. The one word that described the Warden of the False Bay and his tactical know-how. Perhaps, against any other, his slick deception would have succeeded. It would have had any other running in circles chasing digital holograms while the genuine article strode with a panther's swagger towards the seat of Venezuelan power. But against Rafael, time itself seemed to slow from his line of sight. The Neo Achilles was fast. Outstandingly so. Coursing through his veins and throbbing in his muscle fibers was the speed that drew envy from Hermes himself. The speed that brought him a mere hairline away from the universe's set speed limit. And with this speed came the most extraordinary sense; superhuman time perception.
For the slow and ordinary, light needed several steps in the human eye and brain before it can be seen. When one stares at an object, photons hit the back of the eyes and touch off complex chemical signals that are translated into electrical signals sent along neurons to the back of the brain to be gradually turned into what one 'sees'. It is a process that is not instant. It is a process that takes milliseconds. And as insignificant as it may seem, a delay of milliseconds meant a world of difference for a speedster. And it was because of this that the ordinary man could not see life continuously. It was why the ordinary man could only see life in frames. Sixty frames per second. But Rafael? The Neo Achilles stood at the pinnacle of time perception.
To be able to move at near-superluminal velocities, he must process information just as fast. And it brought him closer to reality than the majority of the world. It was with this time perception that Rafael could watch a video and pick out every individual frame. It was why he could see every individual flap of a hummingbird's wings. It was why he could stare into empty pockets of space and observe the erratic quantum events that popped in and out of existence. Compared to him, the rest of the world's perception of time, the way everyone else processed information was not unlike a laggy livestream video on the internet. The world and it's people... they were far too slow. Perhaps if the Warden of the False Bay was faster. Perhaps if his time perception rivaled his. But then, even if Ali was a mere second slower, it would be too much.
The Neo Achilles lived in nanoseconds. And the difference between a nanosecond and a second was the difference between a second and thirty one years and seven months. As the UAV dropped, as the light bounced off the ivory and ebony plates of his armor, as Ali seemed frozen in time, his movement years in the making as far as Rafael's time perception was concerned, the Neo Achilles darted forward. Before his foe scaled the wall, before the UAV's distractions were deployed, before the chemical signals in Ali's nervous system were translated into electrical signals, before Ali's eyes saw a delayed image of the world around him, Rafael had closed the distance and his left fist burned upwards, his arm arcing as he held his features in cool earnest.
It was a thunderous uppercut. One guided by the Neo Achilles' mastery of Abuskhau, of his understanding of the positioning of all things in a physical system, and it was through this understanding that his uppercut targeted, with perfect aim, the Warden's liver. The liver shot. It was a crippling blow. One that could incapacitate. And here, the Warden literally wouldn't see it coming... perhaps. He was good, the Great Jaguar. Too good. But not fast enough it seemed. Or perhaps..
Oh my God they're fighting WHY!?
I don't know how to handle this!
On the other hand...been a long time since I've seen a proper Gambler vs Impero fight.
@rafael_romeiro said:
Before his foe scaled the wall, before the UAV's distractions were deployed, before the chemical signals in Ali's nervous system were translated into electrical signals, before Ali's eyes saw a delayed image of the world around him, Rafael had closed the distance and his left fist burned upwards, his arm arcing as he held his features in cool earnest.
Before being physically humbled, before the Neo Achilles had intercepted his trespass, before entering the unknown tunnel into the Shogunate, Ali had preemptively parted with one of his Circle V's. (they're separate entities from the Kolf) Its journey to take a different path. Unknown and concealed amongst the habitual traffic in and out of the country across the now infamous bridge.
Meanwhile - elsewhere; slowly running his gloved fingers across the indented curvature left by the looming inquisitor, the Great Jaguar remained doubled over half expecting a swift execution. He sighed, when it didnt come, as if disappointed or discouraged. Mercurial either way. "My business wit dee Shogun is just dat, wit dee Shogun." grunting as he adjusted himself. As if plagued by more then just the recent pugilistic strike, perhaps a pre-existing condition had aided in the Habit's forfeiture of kinetic durability, or not. Regardless, Ali's iron constitution remained intact. "If I wanted to do dee Vibranium Queen harm dhere a thousand and one ways I would go about it. Dis" gesturing to his current condition, "would not be one of dhem."
@ali_sani_bashir: Hey, I am an athlete and a martial artist! I don't get dolled up every day. Have to take special care for when I do.
@the_shogun: @ali_sani_bashir:
The Warden of the False Bay. He was a human. A trespasser. Holding his features in cool earnest, Rafael felt his arms unfold before his chest, his amber eyes gazing upon Ali with a quality of quiet intensity, a quality of impenetrable confidence that overshadowed his visage of devastating charm. An Achilles first and an Adonis second. "You're right", his voice echoed, his gloved hands balling up into fists, an executioner's cold confidence washing over the Neo Achilles, "This is business". His muscle fibers twitched and Rafael strode forward, the air growing thick, it's particles freezing and the atmosphere silencing itself as if lying in wait. But not for his action. It lied in wait for the Shogun.
A ripple sent the air into a frenzy, and the Shogun herself emerged. And perhaps almost on cue, their gazes met, the Shogun and the Neo Achilles'. In that moment, his features softened somewhat, they didn't seem as icy, as stern as before. At the sight of her, he issued a subtle and respectful inclination of the head, "Ivana". Gauging the atmosphere, feeling it's temperature, Rafael knew, there would be no battle. Or so he hoped. For now, his gaze returned towards the Warden, his armor of 'White Vibranium' dissipating, it's plates of ebony and ivory coming undone to give way to a fine Ermenegildo Zegna suit tailored to the lean contours of his muscled frame. And while the Shogun welcomed him, the Neo Achilles smoothed his azure tie, and stood by her right.
Once upon a time there was an era of emerging icons, a class of modern marvels unyielding in their focus and clarity of purpose. Their individual and often time's deadly pursuits of power helped lay the foundation for a future tailored made for the more dominant species. The weak suffering and enduring what they must, because they must. The strong, taking what they could, because they could. And from that tower of gladiatorial titans emerged the 23rd Strigidae, Queen of the Shogunate and last Khaleesi of the Vibranium Kingdom. Her antagonistic reign surpassed only by her legend.
Ivana's arrival had momentarily prevented the physical altercation from progressing. Ceremoniously adorned in the visual mystique of the Orochi, her willingness to adhere to social graces, addressing Ali with formal appeasement, had silently taken the False Bay warden by surprise. "Its more of a question of what we can do for each-other, Grandmaster."As the lone pupil of the Keijijo Oni, Abaca Cavat, Ali's dogmatic code demanded he honor the radical mutant as nothing less then her authenticated rank. To omit her station of martial prestige would be to dishonor the warrior fortitude and linage of his decorated Sifu. "I believe I have uncovered a potential source of Vibranium, a submerged vein stretching from dee False Bay to dee Venezuela." His cadence held no hesitation, his eyes glancing towards the de-armoured Adonis before returning to the Undefeated. "I believe dis to be a premiere opportunity for both our cultures." Cautiously stepping forward, fully aware that the Shogun's right hand could put him down before he could even register the act, "If we can first arrange an amicable partnership...."
The palace carried away with it's mundane chores revolving around the administration of the mutant capital of the world. No courier entered the premises of the royal palace nor were any packages sent directly. Instead, a simple letter spamped with an Nth Metal seal of office somehow slipped under the door of the Shogun. The process behind it was equally as puzzling as how a similar message got into the hands of X, the new monarch of Iceland. It was addressed directly to the empress herself, waiting to be opened.
"Dear @the_shogun of Venezuela,
in the name of our Ali'i, Kupu'eu, we extend this formal invitation to you to discuss possible elaboration on the renovation of the Hawaiian Islands. We are the Strategic Hawaiian Defensive, an organization dedicated to this very cause and while you have not heard of us, we have watched and deemed you an immense asset to our efforts.
This is why we have reached out to you with this letter and give you two weeks to decide on your course of action. Be it unfortunate and shall you decline our offer we will not be offended. Know, however, that your declination will be absolute; there will be others who will take your place in this conference. Alas, our situation is a dire one in spite of our resources.
Should you accept, we have provided exact coordinates of the meeting in space-time geometry. Simply have the invitation held against any of the windows in your ivory palace and we will be made aware of your decision. We understand the precaution you might feel in response to our invitation but we assure you ours is not an ill will. You are allowed to bring a handful of your champions and additional abundant security of your choice. No harm will come to neither you nor any member of your entourage, but as you may be aware Hawaiian airspace is besieged by volcanic sediment so we urge you to prepare your transportation and equipment accordingly.
We await in anticipation,
The Tribesmen of S.H.D."
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