Gods Among Us (IC|Superhero|Open)

[Central Crew]

-sip-

Matthew Octave

He just couldn't resist.

"AHAHAHAHA- YES! Beautifully said dear! Now that's some fire you got there! 120 degrees! _{Celsius by the way.}"

Matthew jumped at Synapse's hand and shook it like an over-exited kid. "My name is Matthew Octave, not Storyteller! That lad over there is the Zookeeper and the lass besides him is Venom. I'd give you their true names, but it might be rude."

"And sorry for getting you all worked up," Matthew put both his hands in an apologetic posture. "I said it with the best intentions in mind believe it or not. Sorry if it came out as condescending, not my intention I swear. I never wished to anger, infuriate or outrage you. Sorry that I did all of them and more though."

"Even if you don't believe it, I once was the definition of a British Gentleman!" Matthew had a lost look on his face as he gazed upon the distance. "It's thanks to this friend of mine that I act like this now!" Matthew took out The Book and showed it off. "It does some crazy stuff on my mind sadly, and I lose control over my composure. I hope you can find it within your heart the mercy to forgive me." He took his top hat and bowed slightly.

"Oh and me, a god? Oh dear, you are so very wrong. This is the god!" He pointed at The Book. "I'm but a humble servant that she uses at her will. I just decide to make the most out of it and enjoy myself when I can. Oh and you don't have to adore her or anything. I for example, still believe in my own god. I literally confirmed he's real on multiple universes after all!"

"And you got it all wrong about your frenzy with Maria. It's just that the Doc it's not the most stable person, and you could have tried to appease her, without losing you ground of course. But I do realize now that, unlike me, you didn't knew anything about the girl at that time. Again sorry for my words."

"Speaking of mistakes, I'm very disappointingly not the leader of our jolly group. And in fact I wanted to join with you so we can discus this fact! I propose that you dear, become the leader."

"You see Jo-Zookeeper is very malleable, not really suited for a leader just yet. The biggest proof is the fact that he became my friend pretty fast!" He pointed at John and then at Emma. "Venom isn't even part of the team, she's just hanging around."

Lastly he pointed at himself and said with a full smile "And as you've seen, I'm too much of an asshole to do it!" He took scratched his chin. "Not that I doubt my abilities to lead. I have been a leader in quite a bunch of battles before... and I'm pretty set on trying to help you... But..."

He faced Synapse and regained his smile, "You're the perfect candidate dear. That fire you just showed me? You're in fact, the best suited for this role!"

He pointed at Synapse. "And so! With the power no-one gave me, I declare you leader of our Thunder-Trio! Nice name huh, Leader?"

Matthew continue smiling for a second, but then he took a serious face. And just like Synapse had done on him while she exploded, he looked dead in the eye and said. "And... You might think I'm just full of horse manure -god knows I act like it- but I'm dead serious. I only wished for the best when I chastised you, and I'm truly, deeply sorry that I angered you while doing it." He let out a sigh, but remained locked on the eyes of Synapse. "I may be an idiot who forces reactions out of friends for kicks. An asshole that can literally read the mood, but chooses to ignore it. And also a man that is somehow both in the wrong generation and in the right one... but from the depths of my heart, I hope we can get along."

He offered his hand for a shake, just like Synapse had done to him. Minus the anger and stuff, but with a dead-on serious face,

A face he finally broke after saying what needed to be said, his smile taking it's place. And while other probably couldn't tell, the smile was a fully honest one.

"Oh and who knows? Maybe eventually we'll become friends? Just kidding, just kidding... Unless...?"

[Jerno]

John Farrow/Emma Greenwood

John sighed. He hadn’t expected to be left behind, but what can you say when one of your team members is literally a speedster. He had seen her in action once before at the federal reserve. He had barely been able to see considering how fast she was. Though John didn’t think that Synapse deserved the treatment that Matthew had given her and before he could even utter a single word their small argument had abruptly ended. John felt that he had to say something though. “I uh...may not be have speed as a power but I understand your position synapse. I guess we all have our flaws, just try not to leave us in the dust next time will ya?” John smiled. It was his brave attempt to make them feel better of course. “By the way my names John, and as you’ve probably seen before I’m also known as the Zookeeper. Nice to meet ya Synapse!! I also think you should be this teams leader. I don’t think I’m really capable of leading the team so I think you should do it. While our teams name may sound cool none of us have thunder or lightning abilities so we may have to change the name.” Emma sighed “I should try to figure out where my team is at. Im Emma by the way. I should get going. Thanks for the invite to hang out anyway John. Nice to meet you Matthew and Synapse!!” As Emma left the group John piped up once more. “So should we get going then?” Emma ran back into the building and noticed a peculiar thing on the ground. Is that blood!?!? Emma decided to follow the marked floor. The blood eventually led her to the ladies restroom where a group of people stood standing. Emma walked up to the group, “is everything ok?”

[Europa Undivided]

Don't drink and drive for your own safety

Shadowshock sighed. It did look like that they were out for a boring job after all; fixing power lines and all the totally exciting things that come with it. Of course, Tesla would be the only one doing any actual work in this case, as he was the one with powers that had anything to do with broken power lines. At all.

He sat down on the curb, quietly musing and roaming around the internet on his phone. It wasn't long before he was watching his favorite Twitch streamer.

And Hydra? He was nowhere to be seen...

---

Just as Emma asked for everyone's health, a pair of robotic tentacles lazily slithered into the corridor, moving as if they were speaking to one another in an unspoken tongue. Perhaps they were speaking in Lingua Technis. Who knows. Everyone in there would recognize the distinct robes, tentacles, and armor that followed the machine limbs; it was the same person that told Maria to shower. But why is he here? More importantly, why was he eating ice cream?

"Bonjourrrrrrrrr...", Hydra Imperator greeted. "I need to take a dump... brrrt..."

[Union Princes]

Holiday

Using her unbroken arm, Maria started to apply some soap on her body to wash away the scent of death. At that time, she allowed herself to calm down to think of her next set of options. The shattered arm finally fixed itself giving Maria the opportunity to clean the other half of her body. If it weren’t for her explosive attitude moments before, the whole scene would no different than a normal lady washing away the sweat she accumulated after hours of working out. But make no mistake, Maria’s mind was wandering as her thoughts found themselves examining her weapons, tools, and the contents in her cooler. She pondered if the training session was still occurring. It was a shame if it wasn’t she wouldn’t need it today after so the amount of time spent harvesting.

Leaning with her back against the wall that was once splattered with her blood, Maria huffed as she applied shampoo to her hair before using a brush to straighten it out. Her blue eyes soon found themselves staring down the shower room door. The blondie could have sworn she heard some voices on the other side. Strange if someone was holding a conversation. What could anyone be talking about that warrants them being outside the showers? Maria thought as she turns on the water again to wash away the shampoo. Am I being filmed? She didn’t like that idea that crept into her mind. If a camera was at the door, she may have just flashed herself in all her maiden glory. However, it was nothing a bone saw can’t fix or 6-inch needles into a skull.

[Anowa]

Site M. R. Lewis, STORM R&D HQ
Monongahela National Forest, West Virginia
General Earl Greene

It was a time like this that General Greene absolutely loathed how tight security had to be. He'd passed through four checkpoints inside the complex and had yet to even enter the primary foyer and actual reception. Right now he was walking down a 100 meters long barren concrete hallways with fifty caliber guns at the far end. The whole complex was designed like that. Keep things out, not in, almost as if the madmen working inside never thought their creations would ever attempt an escape.

The airlock door opened, presenting another checkpoint. Credentials were presented, and the automatic instant kill system installed at every checkpoint was disabled. Greene didn't know what it was, didn't even know if it existed or not, but he sure as fuck wasn't gonna gamble with something that supposedly caused 'Osteogenetic petrification of the iris'. Regardless, he didn't want his visit slowed any further. Neither did the two guards following him.

The door opened revealing the central foyer, and it's 3 associated levels, stairs between them all. "Fucking finally."

The man didn't pause at reception, he knew where he was going and exactly what was going to be said about the ungodly project that Konstantin Schirlitz had come up with now.

The guard had paused outside the door that Greene was now furiously knocking on. Two seconds had passed before the man stormed in, "Schirlitz, what in the serious fuck were you thinking!?"

That man was deceptively young. Perhaps, from appearances, he was in his late teens. However, the man sitting at a desk smoking a cigar was tacked on to the US program for creating supersoliders in 1946 as part of Operation Paperclip. he'd seemingly found out immortality, and now was working with STORM to make sure they could take down anyone in TIAMA, regardless of who they were or where their loyalties lay. he simply looked up and smiled, "I am making us stronger, Herr Greene."

"What you're doing, is making a fucking time bomb! Are you insane? You really think this isn't going to backfire on us?"

"Fourteen."

"What?"

"Fourteen are already undergoing neuropathic writing procedures. They'll be ready by the end of the day. I can show you if you want." the man stood.

Greene, was apprehensive, yes, being in the room with one, let alone 14, was dangerous. But the good doctor wasn't one to lie about things like this. Sure, he was insane, but he never overhyped or downplayed his work, "...Show me one that isn't conscious. After that, we'll see about looking at one that's combat ready."

The doctor chuckled, "Of course."

As they left the room, and subsequently the hall, Greene screamed internally, realizing how many checkpoints he would have to pass through. As the walked, Green spoke, "I do have to ask Doctor. Why her in specific?"

The German sighed, somewhat wistfully, "Because, unfortunately, I no longer have the avenue to start from scratch. Your Army had her DNA unequivocally on record from her childhood. All those blood tests, fights, wounds, there was plenty of it, so I only had to work half way. Splicing it with that of Harrington was the only work I really had to do. After that, it was a piece of cake."

Greene hummed, "So... How exactly are they obedient?" The glaring question in Greene's mind was that of how they were controlled. Much like Jews in Nazi Germany, or Armenians in Turkey, the people you're looking to exterminate weren't exactly fond of fighting alongside you.

The doctor continued as they passed through another checkpoint, "Nerve stapling. While removing the parts of their brain reliant on self awareness and self preservation are easier. Nerve Stapling is more long term, and doesn't come with the nasty side effects such as impaired cognition or retardation. A device is implanted at the base of the skull, we leave the individual to think to themselves for a few days, come to their own conclusions, and almost instantly, said neural pathways are blocked by cell sized strands of synthetic mycelium. These same strands proceed to send signals to the brain that, well, hormonally and biochemically alter the mental and physical form. They become incapable of feeling true pain, incapable of higher thought. Dopamine is dumped into their system via fighting and following orders. In short, we replace their human brain with the reptile brain, dedicated to working for us. Fighting and killing is all they know after long."

Greene's eyebrows raised, impressed at the man's theoretically successful work, "That's certainly helpful... Any countermeasures?"

A shrug was the only response, "A sufficiently sized EMP, but given that their helmets will be faraday cages, it will be unlikely. Given the subject's almost lobotomized state as well, they'll likely be frenzied, seeing as the dopamine rush will suddenly cut out."

The next door opened, revealing a multitude of embryos, developing children, and young adults in various stages of development, some were malformed, others perfectly fine. Given the hair and eyes of the original, it was hard to tell if it truly was the best DNA selection, or if the doctor's past in the SS motivated a certain allure to said features. All but a select few had platinum blonde hair, other had some patches of brown, or even black hair. A few moments later, some of the malformed ones were slowly drained, a godawful mulching noise echoing from the base as blood splattered across the emptied tube, the Doctor sighed, "Sadly, not all cases grow properly. With no way to recycle them into anything but food. It's what we feed them in the end. Nothing to waste."

Were it not for his vital work, Greene would've shot the man for such things, not only was it a waste of funding, it was a waste of resources. Not much better than the US Army's munitions costs.

The doctor's voice rang out. "Eleven!"

A tall individual strode forth, clad in armor that looked like it could walk through No Man's land unscathed, "Odd." Greene started, "I don't recognize the model."

"It's based off of One's old set. Before he retired."

Greene nodded, of all the freaks he actually had a respect for, it was that giant. A true patriot, unlike the braindead crayon muncher who used it as an alias. He was there, fighting for this country's independence, despite being around for millennia, he had settled with America, a true follower of democracy and the human way. he was the one good one. The rest were varying degrees of fodder, or waste.

"The Serpent Bearers, that's what we're calling them, are a little transhuman. The have a neural link to their helmet, so instead of a HUD they receive the info directly to the optic nerve. Similar situations for smell, taste, and hearing. It also allows us to upload training into their brain based on various soldiers we've neurally scanned. Of course, they expired.... though they did volunteer." a pause, "Of course, their helmets are also fitted with the same stimulant bio gas mixture Enigma kindly offered us. Revised, of course. So they won't go through the pesky cardiac arrest or suit sealing."

Greene hummed, "So, fully obedient then? if I asked it to kill itself, it would comply?"

"No, unfortunately, they cannot self terminate. A fail safe in case someone goes turncoat."

Greene nodded as he brought his hand up to his chin. "Think we could use one as infiltration?"

The doctor barked a laugh, saying something in German, the tall figure removed it's helmet, showing it's full face, blank, it's eyes were almost fishlike. Hair was shaved, not even peach fuzz at this point. "You tell me General."

[Mandicoria]

-snip-

Patriot turned over to Shadowshock, then looked around for whatever car could've been following their transport. A bit of a puzzled body language from Patriot indicating he was expecting some sort of "backup". Patriot tried to talk over to Shadowshock, but the noise of Tesla repairing the powerlines and using his robotics was a deafening affair. Forcing Patriot to shout "HEY, WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR FRIEND?!" granted it wasn't angry or anything, it's just that Patriot yelling is an intimidating affair.

Tesla on the other hand was too busy to care about Shadowshock's little friend arriving or not. The deafening sounds of his robotic wires extending, and the loud creaking of power line poles was enough to take his attention. Granted he didn't have to worry about going deaf, but it surely was distracting for him. With his suit connecting his metal wiring up to the downed lines, restoring minor power currents to the area. With Tesla turning his head around, waving over to Patriot and then pointing over to the truck. Signalling he needed materials to reconnect the wires. Then looking obviously annoyed when he saw Patriot distracted by talking to Shadowshock.

Patriot was still turned over to Shadowshock, expecting a reply on the status of their "backup".

[Dyelli Beybi]

Imogen Vaughan

William Brookes

The hypothesis she considered was interesting... However, why go to such extremes and with meticulous planning to do so? It is way easier - specially in times like the ones they were living in - to create a myriad of superficial hoaxes and spread it than to emulate a terrorist attack with bombs and enter into a conflict that could very well end his existence before he could even deliver the message.

"To quote the general communist rhetoric of the last century, the bourgeoisie will never allow the proletariat the tools they need to create deep change in the status quo, rendering the process of elections a mere change of pawns to emulate democratic acts while the capital determines who gets to make the decisions. Blame me for being bored between classes, eh?

But saving you the odyssey and the semantic discussion, we need to focus on which one TIAMA wants us to hunt down. I am pretty sure that his other associates might not be that considerate about their objectives and people's lives. I try my best to not come with advanced conclusions seasoned with my charming bitterness, but a few not so nicely intended individuals might be allied with him, and I hope it isn't the Black Hole Lady...

So, now we wait for the team that was dispatched to return or for people to eventually call us there so we can enjoy a demonstration of how to cause the maximum amount of property damage to this fine city while catching the bad guy."

The last comment drew a laugh from Imogen, "Maybe we need to up our game? I can probably do something like open a portal up to somewhere at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. Lets see how our next location likes dealing with salt water damage!"

"Out of interest, aren't we supposed to have another team member?" she asked, glancing about as if expecting them to wander in and join their conversation, "Any idea who they are?"

"Also, I'd like to do a bit of maths on what kind of enemy we can take on before we should all run screaming like the cowards we naturally are. Just how powerful are you Brookes?" she asked, "This time."

[Segral]

Miguel Castro
Some Minutes Ago...

Henry's greeting was not to be met with a friendly wave and cheery conversation-starter. It was instead to be met with a massive, muscled tail slamming him dead in the chest, not with enough force to crack any ribs, but enough to lift the man off of his feet and slam his body against the side wall of the tunnel, pinning him in place like a slide underneath a massive microscope. Miguel had no ocular lens to focus upon his subject, but his senses gave him an accurate lab diagram regardless, a diagram of a man, spread eagle across the wall like Da Vinci's "Vitruvian Man". Vitruvian represented the body's ideal proportions, the perfect man, but no human ever matched the Vitruvian. They always had a pair of gamely legs, or arms that were too long, or a torso that was too skinny or too wide. In their desperate attempts to achieve impossible perfection, humans destroyed themselves, developing conditions such as "anorexia nervosa" and "bulimia". They destroyed their own bodies, for what? To achieve perfection? Could they not see their own backwards logic? Humans not only believe themselves to be capable of perfection, they are obsessed with chasing perfection, even at the cost of their own physical and mental wellness. Miguel was not the same, he embraced his flaws, his imperfections, with the warm arms of the mother breastfeeding the child, of the Madonna and Child, the tight embrace of a blanket against the cold shiver of deadly obsession. He was blind, that was an imperfection. He was slow, clunky, that was another imperfection. His scales had not grown in some patches, leaving his flesh exposed and creating many imperfections. But by accepting his flaws and understanding them, he was more perfect than any foolish human, he, in all of his snout and tail and shell, was closer to the ideal of the Vitruvian man. The man he had pinned wasn't competing with him, he was the racehorse with a limp that had fallen behind. As he snuffled across the man's face and body, he could pick up the musk of old garments, indicating poverty. He could hear a feeble wriggling underneath his tail, indicating lack of physical strength. And across the man's hair, his fabrics, his skin and nails, Miguel could smell charred smoke that was strong enough to make his nose curl, indicating...well, indicating nothing, but opening the possibility up to many things.

Perhaps this man was the "mystery arsonist" that may have sparked the massive blaze roaring on the outside. Perhaps he was TIAMA's sacrificial lamb, the messenger that was to be shot dead. Perhaps he was a Robin Hood type, the young idealistic vigilante that foolishly believed himself to be able to do and be anything in this cruel, crushing world. Or perhaps he was a foolish civilian hoping to get first-hand footage for his social media profile. Each circumstance was progressively worse, an increasingly deadly prognosis. A fellow agent of chaos, while wounding to his pride, was a potentially beneficial ally, regardless of what his true powers were. A TIAMA hero would likely result in gory conflict, but it was the end goal all along. Beating down a vigilante would leave a trace behind, and delay his plans. A foolish civilian would be a casualty, a deadly body count of one too many that would whip TIAMA and the police into a stir-crazy frenzy, fangs bared and claws ready to sink into his scaly flesh. Interrogation was not desirable, but necessary.

"Why have you followed me?" he asked tersely, leaning his face close to the other man's, so that he could see a pair of milky, beady unseeing little eyes staring right back at him. "I mean you no harm, but I cannot allow you to disrupt my act of rebellion. If you are a civilian here for five minutes of lofty fame, I suggest you turn back now, so that I need not forcibly throw you out. If you are a so-called-hero here to stop me, I suggest you turn back now, so that I need not gut you. Which one will it be?"

---

The Present

"Up here." Miguel said, gesturing above his head. Their long pilgrimage through the underground chute had been a perilous one, difficult to breathe in and full of pauses. The pauses were for a nefarious intent; setting the occasional explosive booby trap behind for anyone stupid enough to stumble in blind. His new colleague, the Arsonist, could do more than just bend flames. According to him, he possessed the ability to shape the raw energy of his flames into the tiniest of packages, letting them explode with tremendous force once willed. A potter with a deadly urn. They had been useful in rigging the shaft they had entered from with deadly flames, and leaving a few surprises along the way for any survivors of the initial blast. Of course, fire was a quick sapper of precious oxygen, so it was unwise to linger much longer than necessary, leaving their fireside soujourns brief affairs. They moved in single-file, with his worshiper running ahead while Miguel rolled behind in order to churn up the ground, cover the tracks that they left behind. Quiet noises echoed and their own footsteps and shadows gave them fright at points, but they still pressed on, moving as fast as their meticulousness would allow them to. Either they were oblivious to their pursuers, or their pursuers were oblivious to them, but neither situation was certain, and as such, they moved and moved and pressed until they had pushed themselves into breathlessness towards the end.

Thanks to said breathlessness, the chatter had been light, consisting only of occasional orders, affirmations, questions, and those questions' one-word responses. For that, Miguel couldn't help but be slightly grateful. He had been right in assuming that his companion wasn't perfect, but not in the way that he had imagined. In the depths of his mind and the processes of his thought, the man was slightly...disturbed, perhaps one would use the term "unhinged". The way he acted was erratic, strange, too subtle and cloaked for Miguel to feel at ease. He felt no fear, felt no reservations, did not hesitate once at the prospect of being commanded to blow an "innocent" hero to crimson ashes. Miguel also did not feel reservations, but that was because he hated humanity, hated them for the discrimination, for the suffering they imposed upon him, hated them for their perfect egos that blinded them to their disgusting, horrendous flaws. But from what he could glean from his Arsonist, he was a human too, which raised questions to his mental fitness, his lack of reservation. Did he hate his worshiper too? Perhaps. But hate could sometimes be briefly put aside in the interest of working towards a common goal, and in this case, it was quite a beautiful common goal to collaborate towards.

Now, they were entering Phase 3 of their collaboration, Phase 2 having elapsed while the two trudged through the tunnel. They had reached the end, marked with a final, glowing lantern that was promptly smashed apart by Miguel's bulky tail, the tang of rotting wood above him, and a rusted metal ladder with a distinct tang. Even if his senses had somehow betrayed him, he could easily tell that this was the exit shaft solely based on the space. He could no longer touch the sides of the tunnel when he outstretched his arms to the sides, and could no longer skim the ceiling with the top of his head if he stood tall. This was his way out, his hand to Paradise, and Miguel was heaven-bent on ascending.

With a grunt, he buckled his knees down before suddenly leaping straight up, using his tail for extra propulsion as he rocketed head-first towards the trapdoor. His head and shoulders plowed right through, snapping and splintering the panel into multiple pieces that rained upon his exposed skin that left several small cuts behind. A paltry sacrifice, and a successful one, as the breaking of the trapdoor gave him just enough space to latch onto the edge of the chute with his forearms and prevent himself from falling back down to the bottom. From there, it was simply a matter of wriggling his bulk up onto the floor of the vacant former furniture store that the tunnel lead to. Drugs were easy to hide, and even easier when there was a pillow, or a clandestine china cabinet compartment to hide them in. Rampages through a low-income community were easy to create, and even easier when there was a vacant former furniture store to take cover within. A perfect thunderstorm, with the most vicious of lightning.

At last, he was able to pull his legs up onto the ground floor of the storeroom in which the chute lead down from, taking a brief second to respect his dignity and pat the dust and grime of the tunnel off of his torso and legs before kneeling down and extending a long arm down the shaft towards his companion. "Here, pull yourself up quickly. Time is of the essence in this circumstance." he said in an urgent tone, carefully curling away his claws so that he did not shred his worshiper's tender arm flesh. He was like God stretching his hand out to feeble Adam, offering an invitation to heaven, to Paradise, if he was intelligent enough to take it. No one was born criminal; they were pushed to it by the collective weight of human society burdening and bearing upon them, twisting their spines and cracking their legs until they were ugly, deformed crawlers, resorting to crime in an attempt to salvage something beautiful and strike back at the same people that had oppressed them so. Only the stupid would not be eager to join him in his quest. Sure, hesitation and reservation were common, perhaps expected, but in the end, he had faith that his man would join him on his quest, regardless of whatever hellish demon attempted to drag him back into cold purgatory.

Speaking of which, it seemed as if one of those demons had found their scent. Miguel's ears perked up as a distinct sound reached his ears, the sound of crunching and rumbling echoing throughout the chute with a ringing burn. The average human would have difficulty recognizing any of the strife, but his sensitive eardrums could hear even the faintest sounds, and this was far from a faint sound, regardless of how far down the tunnel it was. If he could hear a man's heartbeat while standing in front of him, he could most certainly hear whatever was occurring downwind. However, the knowledge did not trouble him. Contrarily, it pleased him, causing a thin, grin to spread across his face and a slight cackle to teeter out of his maw as he looked back towards his worshiper.

"I hear an uninvited guest. If they were our allies, they would find a...friendlier way to greet us instead of such a rude, noisy breach. As soon as you're clear of the tunnel, let the bombs explode. Anybody who stands even close will be caught in the crossfire." he said, his grin growing ever wider as he spoke. They should be caught in the crossfire, right? After all, the man had left countless explosives towards the entrance, and they were detonated only by his will. At least, that's what he claimed, and if that claim was false, he would have greater problems to deal with beyond a potential TIAMA response.

[Anowa]

"Hey, Blink. Sorry I'm late, fare meter didn't want to take a fifty." a pause as Gauss looked around, noting that Blink's battle buddy seemed hauntingly absent, "Where's Ophi? She isn't signing babies is she?"

Jack Dredd

Jack nearly jumped when Gauss approached him and began talking, his nerves wired and ready to go. He’d been sitting of the roof of the car, but was on his feet in a second. He only hoped Gauss wouldn’t pull some helpless child from somewhere and put him back on babysitting duty.

“Oh, uh, hi. She isn’t signing babies, I don’t think. Probably. No, she went uh... west, west. She was chasing after that Armadillo guy. I don’t actually know specifically where she was going, but I doubt she’ll be too hard to find. Hopefully.”

Gauss looked around at the throng of people either locking their apartments, closing their blinds, or simply running. "God I fucking hate Lone Wolves." West also just so happened to be downwind, meaning Gauss couldn't easily smell her, even if she knew what the resident brutalist smelled like. A slight sigh escaped from Gauss as she continued, "Well, come on. Let's go find Supergirl then."

Finding Miss Red-White and Blue wasn't actually as difficult as expected. The blown apart wreckage of a warehouse was quite the contrast compared to the woman's colors of choice. Pulling her rifle from her back, Gauss crept up behind Ophichiua, it wasn't difficult to piece together the sight. Gauss spoke spoke in a low tone, "I take it there's a reason we haven't jumped down the hole?"

---

Her team mate was distressed. That she could tell the moment she stormed off.

It seemed Elisa wasn't the only one to notice either. As a collection of individuals had now crowded themselves around the door to the bathrooms, and judging from the conversation, they weren't here to use them. Gedenken seemed to have taken a liking to the girl, either as a friend or a romantic partner, it was hard tyo say. Digel was a walking OPSEC risk, which put him on a minimal contact list. Jester seemed embarrassed, Elisa was unsure as to why. Highcastle was a man out of time, ongoing culture shock not withstanding, he was level headed, an individual Elisa could trust. Venom was one of the incredibly few people in this building who could act upon a wish to harm Elisa, as such, she was also put on a minimal contact list.

The two meter tall robot, walked past the throng and into the women's locker room. Steam and the sound of an active shower head providing further context as to what the French national had said. The machine turn and pressed her palm to where the door and the frame met, warping the headspacing enough to jam the door shut. It wasn't the only bathroom in the building, and while it was a public area, typically it was a bad idea to bring more than one individual on a quest to calm a distressed individual... at least from what Elisa had read in the past 2 minutes.

Elisa then spoke up, "Holiday. You are upset." she strode across the room until she had a view of the showers, Maria within them, "Perhaps the best course of action is to talk about it..." the robot's head shifted to her arm, "And perhaps not perform self harm." a pause, as the machine's brain tried to put two and two together in a logical fashion, "Are you feeling suicidal tendencies?"

[Revlona]

Henry

"Stupid armadillo, that hurt.." Henry muttered to himself as he followed the armadillo man through the shaft, he had slammed Henry against the shafts wall the second they had met. Henry had already rubbed the small of his back half a dozen times as they walked through the tunnel, attempting to smooth over a sore spot where his back had hit semi roughly. As they walked his hands came together before slowly moving away from each other, the gap between his hands being filled by a ball of fire the size of a softball. Henry stood still for a moment as he searched for a good spot to place the bomb, he noticed a small little alcove that could probably hide a small child and placed the bomb at the entrance to the alcove. he then made another bomb and placed it directly across from the alcove bomb, he liked leaving them in pairs, it was so they weren't lonely.

Several minutes later he pulled himself up beside the Armadillo man, sitting down beside him and playing with the cuff of his ripped jeans as the armadillo man spoke to him, telling him to set off his bombs. "I set two dozen around the entrance to the shaft, two or three just got snuffed out by something, they scream for release you know.." Henry muttered, the words still audible to the Armadillo man beside him. A crooked smile drifted to rest upon Heneys face as he lifted a hand and snapped once. His eyes closed and he let out a sigh as he felt the release that came with the bombs.

At the other entrance to the shaft, twenty two bombs with the power of a HE grenade went off at once, a further two dozen bombs in pairs of two also went off at the same time throughout the entire shaft. In the case of the bombs at the shafts entrance, the explosive power and fire had only two ways to escape, further down the shaft where fire and explosive power was rushing towards them or through the open shaft entrance close above them. Much of the fire and explosive power went through the shafts entrance in a powerful explosion as a result.

At the other side of the shaft Henry giggled, "I'm not sure it will collapse the shaft buuuut, I don't think they will be following anytime soon.." he said

[Aserais]

Skye Cross, AKA Synapse

-snip-

"Uh... right..." Synapse said hesitantly after the frankly baffling tirade that the seemingly emotionally compromised Brit went on, pulling their hand back from his. They looked over to the other member of their team as he backed up what Matthew said about them being the leader of the team, which was something rather unexpected after the dressing down that the Brit gave them over their mistakes up to this point. It was a welcome surprise, at any rate, because they were both right--no way were they going to take orders from either of these guys, and they both seemed willing followers if nothing else.

"Well, uh, thanks you guys. I'll do my best at leading the team," they said with a shy grin as they scratched the back of their head, a nervous tic that they'd never managed to get rid of.

"On that note, here's the plan. Because of what's going down in the Bronx, there's gonna be blackouts in the neighborhood around the incident. Power lines are getting knocked down. Until Tesla can get the power restored, we're gonna patrol the neighborhoods, make sure no one's using the darkness to hurt anyone else. Zookeeper, here's my number," they said as they retrieved a small notepad from a pouch on their suit and scribbled their work phone's number on it before they handed it to him. "You're gonna be on overwatch. Turn into a bird or something, and if you see anything let me know. Storyteller, you can have my number too. You can read the book and let me know if anything big is gonna go down," they said as they handed him the scrap of paper before returning the small note pad and pen to the pouch on their thigh.

"Any questions?" they asked, looking between the two heroes that they had been placed with.

---

Taela M'reen, AKA Miss Majestic.

Taela was still in her chair as others began to filter out of the gymnasium, frowning and rubbing her chin as she considered the teammate that she had been placed with. Mother Russia she knew by reputation. He was a veteran of TIAMA ME, and had been involved in military operations in that area for several years. She'd researched him when she'd done an op-ed on the metahuman presence in the Middle East, but even then she'd found precious little actual information about the hero beyond his appearance and a brief summary of his deployment record. Also, the fact that he was a man, which was honestly a little confusing.

Every time she thought she was getting a handle on this planet's weirdness, she got hit with something else.

Once he'd joined TIAMA NA there had been a bit more information available, though it wasn't enough to truly satisfy her curiosity. Enhanced strength and some kind of natural cloaking field, though what truly set him apart from other metas was his incredible physical size. Even by the standards of her people, eight feet tall was massive.

She sighed before she stood up to her full height, which had her towering over most of the heroes that were still in the gymnasium, and made her way over to where the hulking behemoth of a man was sitting in a chair that was probably a bit too small for him. Mother Russia was almost as tall as she was while sitting down, and was built like a Lorissian marauder. It was a bit intimidating, even not taking into account the genuinely disturbing physical appearance.

"It is good to meet you," she said in lightly accented English, giving the behemoth a small wave before she extended her hand to shake his. "I am called Miss Majestic. I have not seen our other team mate, but I look forward to working with you."

[Union Princes]

Her team mate was distressed. That she could tell the moment she stormed off.

It seemed Elisa wasn't the only one to notice either. As a collection of individuals had now crowded themselves around the door to the bathrooms, and judging from the conversation, they weren't here to use them. Gedenken seemed to have taken a liking to the girl, either as a friend or a romantic partner, it was hard tyo say. Digel was a walking OPSEC risk, which put him on a minimal contact list. Jester seemed embarrassed, Elisa was unsure as to why. Highcastle was a man out of time, ongoing culture shock not withstanding, he was level headed, an individual Elisa could trust. Venom was one of the incredibly few people in this building who could act upon a wish to harm Elisa, as such, she was also put on a minimal contact list.

The two meter tall robot, walked past the throng and into the women's locker room. Steam and the sound of an active shower head providing further context as to what the French national had said. The machine turn and pressed her palm to where the door and the frame met, warping the headspacing enough to jam the door shut. It wasn't the only bathroom in the building, and while it was a public area, typically it was a bad idea to bring more than one individual on a quest to calm a distressed individual... at least from what Elisa had read in the past 2 minutes.

Elisa then spoke up, "Holiday. You are upset." she strode across the room until she had a view of the showers, Maria within them, "Perhaps the best course of action is to talk about it..." the robot's head shifted to her arm, "And perhaps not perform self harm." a pause, as the machine's brain tried to put two and two together in a logical fashion, "Are you feeling suicidal tendencies?"

Holiday

Upon hearing the doors of the shower room open and close with a distinct jamming sound, Maria slowly turned her head to glance at the newcomer. The sight of which made her stomach revolt inside her. Even though Maria rotated her body to face Elisa, the blondie's eyes did not smile when her mouth did. Not caring she would be holding a conversation being nude, the German twisted her arm to slam the shower off behind her. Wet, cold, but filing with boiling rage when the machine opens its mouth to speak.

"Feeling suicidal..." Maria muttered to herself as her piercing blue eyes washed over Elisa hoping to find an organ or tissue underneath all that metal. She sneaked a quick glance at the bone saw lying on the tile floor before warping her mouth into an awful sneer. "By what right does a robot lecture a human on self-harm? By what right can a machine judge a human for feeling suicidal?!"

No matter how advanced or how helpful robots can become, letting them become human was never to be the case. What Maria sees standing before her was a gross mockery of mankind: blood replaced with oil, flesh for metal, and organs for motors. "What makes you think you're even qualified to talk to me?" the blondie steeled her teeth while her hand gripped her scalpel knife until her knuckles burned white. "You think you're superior, is that it? That your computer brain can surpass my healing blood?"

Maria's smile stretched into something cruel and hateful as the blondie started shivering, whether it was from the cold or from her scornful words. "I stopped being suicidal a long time ago. " the German spat as extended her arm to point the scalpel knife at Elisa. "The only person being suicidal here is you..."

[Mandicoria]

New York City, Silverscape Apartments, Apartment 34
The Immortal
52 minutes ago...

Anouke was still continuing their depressing existence. Constantly staring at their computer, occasionally changing their attention when the next song of their "keep calm" playlist began. Honestly uneventful shit happening and a waste of her free time. Well it would've been had it not been for her phone blaring as soon as "Out of Touch" ended. Causing her to jump in a mild panic, anxiety soaring as she darted over to the phone. Taking a deep breath before picking it up with trembling hands. "H-hello?" She nervously asked into the phone.

"Hey is this Immortal?" The voice on the other end asked, sounded like a receptionist.

"U-uh, yeah! Yeah..."

"Well sorry to bother you at this time, as we know you were relieved for the evening. But could you try making your way back to Staten Island? We have a new team waiting for you."

"U-uh yeah sure I can uh, make my way up there in a good bit."

Anouke finished up with their pleasantries before hanging up with a bit of relief on their face. They hated phonecalls with a passion, almost like she just didn't wanna deal with people in general. She shook her head as she looked over at her equipment, sighing as she began getting dressed up. The process shockingly only taking around 5 minutes, with her putting the final touches by fastening on her helmet at last. Doing a last minute equipment check, and tightening of her suit before hurrying out the door. They managed to be somewhat unnoticed during the whole endeavor, considering most of the neighboring apartments are vacant. Allowing Immortal to sort of come across as a hero checking on the place, as per usual.

A few good flights of stairs were cleared as Immortal dashed out the doors, making sure not to slam them shut. Immediately waving a taxi down as soon as they were outside, and hurriedly hopping in. "Staten Island, uhhhh you know where the TIAMA facility is there right? I need to get there pronto."

"No worries fam I'll get you there." The Taxi Driver responded in an assuring tone, not even bothering to turn around and see the armored hulk behind him. Almost as if he were used to doing this kind of thing with tons of "heroes" needing a ride. Then again, dude clearly had a joint in his hand so he was probably too high to give a shit.

TIAMA Training Facility, Staten Island
Present Time...

Sounds of tires screeching echoed outside with a familiar yellow cab parked right by the entrance. The armored figure of Immortal emerging from the passenger seat while tossing over a good amount of money to the driver. "Keep the change." Immortal shouted over to the driver before hurrying up to the doors. Followed by the sounds of the taxi speeding off once more. Finally, back at this boring dump. Honestly they wished they were just already assigned to a team before being relieved, less of a waste of time after all. She sighed as she scanned her ID, opening the doors and heading inside. Taking note of just how sparse things had become since she was there earlier.

Their armor made a bit of minor clanking that echoed a bit through the halls. The silence of everything else was... deafening for Immortal. Luckily they were almost back in the main assembly, which still had a good amount of people present. Granted that wasn't particularly relieving considering they might be assigned with people they could absolutely loathe. Finally arriving in they didn't really bother to greet anyone, and just sort of awkwardly stood in the corner. Since well, they were only there to really meet the rest of their team before just going back home and... Well, sitting around doing nothing was still more pleasant than this.

[Anowa]

Her team mate was distressed. That she could tell the moment she stormed off.

It seemed Elisa wasn't the only one to notice either. As a collection of individuals had now crowded themselves around the door to the bathrooms, and judging from the conversation, they weren't here to use them. Gedenken seemed to have taken a liking to the girl, either as a friend or a romantic partner, it was hard tyo say. Digel was a walking OPSEC risk, which put him on a minimal contact list. Jester seemed embarrassed, Elisa was unsure as to why. Highcastle was a man out of time, ongoing culture shock not withstanding, he was level headed, an individual Elisa could trust. Venom was one of the incredibly few people in this building who could act upon a wish to harm Elisa, as such, she was also put on a minimal contact list.

The two meter tall robot, walked past the throng and into the women's locker room. Steam and the sound of an active shower head providing further context as to what the French national had said. The machine turn and pressed her palm to where the door and the frame met, warping the headspacing enough to jam the door shut. It wasn't the only bathroom in the building, and while it was a public area, typically it was a bad idea to bring more than one individual on a quest to calm a distressed individual... at least from what Elisa had read in the past 2 minutes.

Elisa then spoke up, "Holiday. You are upset." she strode across the room until she had a view of the showers, Maria within them, "Perhaps the best course of action is to talk about it..." the robot's head shifted to her arm, "And perhaps not perform self harm." a pause, as the machine's brain tried to put two and two together in a logical fashion, "Are you feeling suicidal tendencies?"

Holiday

Upon hearing the doors of the shower room open and close with a distinct jamming sound, Maria slowly turned her head to glance at the newcomer. The sight of which made her stomach revolt inside her. Even though Maria rotated her body to face Elisa, the blondie's eyes did not smile when her mouth did. Not caring she would be holding a conversation being nude, the German twisted her arm to slam the shower off behind her. Wet, cold, but filing with boiling rage when the machine opens its mouth to speak.

"Feeling suicidal..." Maria muttered to herself as her piercing blue eyes washed over Elisa hoping to find an organ or tissue underneath all that metal. She sneaked a quick glance at the bone saw lying on the tile floor before warping her mouth into an awful sneer. "By what right does a robot lecture a human on self-harm? By what right can a machine judge a human for feeling suicidal?!"

No matter how advanced or how helpful robots can become, letting them become human was never to be the case. What Maria sees standing before her was a gross mockery of mankind: blood replaced with oil, flesh for metal, and organs for motors. "What makes you think you're even qualified to talk to me?" the blondie steeled her teeth while her hand gripped her scalpel knife until her knuckles burned white. "You think you're superior, is that it? That your computer brain can surpass my healing blood?"

Maria's smile stretched into something cruel and hateful as the blondie started shivering, whether it was from the cold or from her scornful words. "I stopped being suicidal a long time ago. " the German spat as extended her arm to point the scalpel knife at Elisa. "The only person being suicidal here is you..."

Elisa was... confused. What Maria was saying didn't make a whole lot of sense to the machine. It was not a lecture, more so a simple question, if Holiday needed medical services, she was obligated to inform emergency services, less so a therapist, after all Major Depressive Disorder was in most cases considered terminal. Why the human mind went so far as to end it's own existence, Elisa did not know. Humanity was illogical yes, emotional outbursts, such as Holiday now, objectively incorrect actions, political discourse, it all was illogical, but from various studies and observations, there was a basis of sense. Self termination, very much did not fit in to any of those categories. Nor did the comparison between her processing of information and her blood's capabilities.

Elisa spoke up, as the knife was brandished, "I ask because I am obligated to notify emergency services if you are at risk of self termination. Not in an attempt to lecture. Major Depressive Disorder is a persistent mental disorder, typically it does not simply fade, it may last upwards of years at a time even if symptoms appear to fade. It is not something I understand inherently, I am not human and thus do not have the drive to self terminate, even if I wished." She looked rather pointedly at the scalpel.

"My qualification in the linguistic understanding of English de facto makes me capable of communicating with a number of individuals. I have a similar qualifying score in German, Dutch and Russian, if you would prefer to continue this conversation in either of those languages." a pause, "You comparison between my intellectual processing and your blood's biological mechanisms. They are not transferable traits and are not comparable. I cannot heal, just as you cannot interface with electronics."

Elisa looked back at the scalpel, "Violent acts are typically cathartic in nature. If you believe stabbing me would alleviate your stress, you are welcome to do so, it is unlikely to do damage that would prove operationally terminating."

[Remnants of Exilvania]

New York City
Staten Island Training Facility
Hans

Their group appeared to be getting bigger by the second Hans thought as they were joined by yet another person he knew from the unlucky meeting as the ironically named Lucky Strike Manhattan. Good old Emma who had showed up together with her friend John and had been the first to provide any form of food. Hans was glad that she was here as surely she was a good person. Not that everyone else wasn't a good person but she certainly was one!

He greeted her jovially, waving his arm and saying:

"Emma! Great to see you! Are you looking for your team? Look, Emma, I don't know if you've meet Emma at the Lucky Strike but I think both of you share a team!

As for if everyone is okay, well-"

Hans didn't get further, a pair of tentacles, robotic ones at that, suddenly slithering into their corridor. Followed by the culprit behind all of their troubles, the red robed, masked and armoured frenchman who had made Maria angry. And he was eating Ice Cream for some reason. Had he gone out to buy ice cream rather than fight villains or atleast find his team? It appeared so which fit with the image of the stereotypical arrogant frenchman that Hans had, the frenchie thinking himself too good for his teammates and running of to please his carnal desires for, sweet, cold delicacies.

As he was still debating wether or not he should ask the mean frenchie about his team, Hydra Imperator suddenly decided to greet them...and apparently felt the need to tell them that he had to visit the lavatories in the most simplistic way possible. Something Hans hadn't expected of a frenchman, people which he considered to normally be very polite and well spoken. Well, perhaps Hydra Imperator was an outlier. Exceptions confirmed the rule afterall, didn't they?

Hans decided to step into Hydra Imperator's way, building himself up to his full height in an attempt to be look taller and more imposing. All in vain as Hydra Imperator was using his robotic tentacles anyway to hover a bit over the ground and be taller than everyone else. Still, Hans didn't care and stood in his way, pointing his finger at Hydra Imperator and saying sternly:

"You! You were mean to Maria! You need to apologize!"

Casting a side glance on the men's showers he added:

"After visiting the lavatories though. Apologizing while jumping from one foot onto another, trying to hold it in is kind of awkward."

Suddenly hearing the sound of a door opening behind him, Hans whipped around on the spot, hoping to see Maria finally stepping out of the showers and being completely fine...but instead only saw the door swinging shut again, a gust of blonde hair still visible for a split second for him. Strange...he didn't know anyone apart from Maria and Ophiuchia who had blonde hair...and Maria was in the showers while Ophiuchia was on her mission. So he was kind of unsure who had just gone in there and he certainly hoped they hadn't gone in there just to shower. It was likely not good for anyone to face Maria unprepared.

He was about to go after them when he heard the creaking of metal, raising immediate suspicions. He tried the doorhandle, which still worked but when he tried to open the door itself, it wouldn't budge, confirming his suspicion that whoever had gone in there had tampered with it to ensure they were not disturbed. Well, atleast it seemed like they were very strong so they would likely be able to calm Maria just fine. Hans knew that being strong was always good to calm people. The handlers at Creedmoor had also been very strong and they had always done an outstanding job when he or someone else was upset.

So, having confirmed that the door was indeed jammed, he turned around to the rest of the group and asked:

"Okay, so, uhm, it seems the lady that went in wants to be left alone with Maria. Did anyone see what she looked like? I know she's blonde but I know only two TIAMA blondes and one is in the showers right now and the other is fighting bad guys out there.

Oh and you-"

He pointed at Hydra Imperator.

"-better visit the lavatories now so you can apologize when Maria comes out again."

Hans was proud of himself. Clearly the situation had been resolved perfectly. He had met all of his teammembers and gathered them with him here, he had looked after Maria and found someone to go in and ask her how she felt and he had even found the culprit for why Maria might be angry. Oh, and of course he had brought Emma and Emma together! As a team they certainly had much to talk about, right?

[Europa Undivided]

Shadowshock | America's Ass is an ass

Shadowshock frowned almost immediately when Patriot seemed to shout at him in his bid to find Hydra Imperator nearby. When will you quit yelling you damn brute, he thought as he looked around the area with an expression that spoke of confusion and maybe slight annoyance.

"No idea if he continued to follow us or if he diverted his route towards somewhere else.", Shadowshock answered as he checked his phone if the Hydra had texted.

"I need to take a dump."

"Great...", Shadowshock muttered to himself. "He's so scared of commitment."

He turned back towards the Patriot, frowning. "He apparently diverted midway. Probably went to Brooklyn.
"

With that, he sat back down on the curb.

Then the ground shook.

"What the...?"

There was an explosion in the distance, and it seemed to be a powerful one at that. Judging from the direction of the sound, it came from the Bronx, which means...

"Patriot, Tesla, that explosion was in the direction of the Bronx. Same place where Team A and the Armadillo were. This... doesn't sound good. The explosion must have been a rather big one..."

---

Hydra Imperator | Viva La France you uncultured swine

Jacques Lenard only stared back at Hans, who had demanded for him to apologize to Maria... who was that again...? Oh, right. That German blond that had the bloody audacity to walk into a meeting while literally covered in blood and gore. Of course, it was another German defending her. Quite funny and silly, this is.

He hovered just a few inches away from hands, touching the German's face with his armored hand. "Oui, sorry, what?", he said with his calm, English voice. "Me, apologize to her?"

Hydra Imperator touched Han's hair before going back to his original hovering position. "Hydra, what do you think?"

One of the robotic tentacles sprung up, acting as if it had a life of its own... which it had. "Should I say sorry?"

The tentacle nodded. "Of all the planets that I have been, this is the only place where people defend their utter lack of common decency."

"So I'll take that as...?"

"No. Non. Nein. Nyet. Why should you apologize for being honest?"

Jacques chuckled, and turned to face Hans. "I'm sorry. No can do."

The tentacle with a life of its own slithered up towards Hans like a snake. "I think you're a cutesie but also a fool."

"Seriously, Hyds?", Jacques asked his sentient suit as it had just insulted Hans. "I know you can be a pain to live with but this is an outrage..."

"What? I just said that I think he's a cutesie. Are you jealous?"

[Union Princes]

Elisa was... confused. What Maria was saying didn't make a whole lot of sense to the machine. It was not a lecture, more so a simple question, if Holiday needed medical services, she was obligated to inform emergency services, less so a therapist, after all Major Depressive Disorder was in most cases considered terminal. Why the human mind went so far as to end it's own existence, Elisa did not know. Humanity was illogical yes, emotional outbursts, such as Holiday now, objectively incorrect actions, political discourse, it all was illogical, but from various studies and observations, there was a basis of sense. Self termination, very much did not fit in to any of those categories. Nor did the comparison between her processing of information and her blood's capabilities.

Elisa spoke up, as the knife was brandished, "I ask because I am obligated to notify emergency services if you are at risk of self termination. Not in an attempt to lecture. Major Depressive Disorder is a persistent mental disorder, typically it does not simply fade, it may last upwards of years at a time even if symptoms appear to fade. It is not something I understand inherently, I am not human and thus do not have the drive to self terminate, even if I wished." She looked rather pointedly at the scalpel.

"My qualification in the linguistic understanding of English de facto makes me capable of communicating with a number of individuals. I have a similar qualifying score in German, Dutch and Russian, if you would prefer to continue this conversation in either of those languages." a pause, "You comparison between my intellectual processing and your blood's biological mechanisms. They are not transferable traits and are not comparable. I cannot heal, just as you cannot interface with electronics."

Elisa looked back at the scalpel, "Violent acts are typically cathartic in nature. If you believe stabbing me would alleviate your stress, you are welcome to do so, it is unlikely to do damage that would prove operationally terminating."

Holiday
Maria was at a loss for words yet she kept that hidden on her grim face. The machine was rambling on of specific technicalities of her words since logic was the only thing that mattered the robot. And yet, the blondie wondered if she would take up the machine's offer to dismantle itself.

"Why are you doing this?" Maria inquired, "You've underestimated my ability to do harm, even to a machine. Why offer yourself to be destroyed?"

[Endem]

Chris Digel

"Alright frenchie, enough of this" Chris made his presence known to the Frenchman as he started walking towards him menacingly, "Hans was the good cop in, now you'll have to deal with me" he grabbed the red-clad Frenchman and began pushing him towards the door to the showers

He noticed that the guy was putting more opposition than he expected, he turned his head around "Would you guys mind helping me", he knew he was acting impulsively, but at this rate the Frenchman disrespected two people already, somebody had to stop this, and it seemed like Chris was the one to do it.

[Sudbrazil]

He noticed that the guy was putting more opposition than he expected, he turned his head around "Would you guys mind helping me", he knew he was acting impulsively, but at this rate the Frenchman disrespected two people already, somebody had to stop this, and it seemed like Chris was the one to do it.

Highcastle felt uncomfortable as the population density sharply spiked — it reminded him of the trenches, and such a heterogeneous pack would doubtlessly begin to fight among themselves. The fact that Maria was involved in the mess also reversed the situation, which made him feel much more empathy with the arrogant Frenchman. Perhaps it was time to segregate his team and have it involved in a more productive activity.

“Now, Chris, leave him alone,” he whispered stepping forward and grabbing Digel’s arm, “I know I suggested the apology, but I did not know much about the context of the insult.”

This was Maria who they were talking about. Though he knew little of her, and had very few interactions with her, all of them had left a rather bad taste on his mouth. Perhaps her aberrant acts had been tolerated, perhaps her bloody personality had been pampered for her entire life, or perhaps she genuinely did not care and belonged in a mental institution. Either way, the Englishman believed that such a blatantly unchristian lady was not their responsibility, nor did she command much of his respect or chivalry.

“I understand your grievances all too well, Monsieur.” he continued turning to Hydra, “Mais contrôlez votre equipement. Il devient indécent.” That was a phrase he did not expect to use.

[Anowa]

Elisa was... confused. What Maria was saying didn't make a whole lot of sense to the machine. It was not a lecture, more so a simple question, if Holiday needed medical services, she was obligated to inform emergency services, less so a therapist, after all Major Depressive Disorder was in most cases considered terminal. Why the human mind went so far as to end it's own existence, Elisa did not know. Humanity was illogical yes, emotional outbursts, such as Holiday now, objectively incorrect actions, political discourse, it all was illogical, but from various studies and observations, there was a basis of sense. Self termination, very much did not fit in to any of those categories. Nor did the comparison between her processing of information and her blood's capabilities.

Elisa spoke up, as the knife was brandished, "I ask because I am obligated to notify emergency services if you are at risk of self termination. Not in an attempt to lecture. Major Depressive Disorder is a persistent mental disorder, typically it does not simply fade, it may last upwards of years at a time even if symptoms appear to fade. It is not something I understand inherently, I am not human and thus do not have the drive to self terminate, even if I wished." She looked rather pointedly at the scalpel.

"My qualification in the linguistic understanding of English de facto makes me capable of communicating with a number of individuals. I have a similar qualifying score in German, Dutch and Russian, if you would prefer to continue this conversation in either of those languages." a pause, "You comparison between my intellectual processing and your blood's biological mechanisms. They are not transferable traits and are not comparable. I cannot heal, just as you cannot interface with electronics."

Elisa looked back at the scalpel, "Violent acts are typically cathartic in nature. If you believe stabbing me would alleviate your stress, you are welcome to do so, it is unlikely to do damage that would prove operationally terminating."

Holiday
Maria was at a loss for words yet she kept that hidden on her grim face. The machine was rambling on of specific technicalities of her words since logic was the only thing that mattered the robot. And yet, the blondie wondered if she would take up the machine's offer to dismantle itself.

"Why are you doing this?" Maria inquired, "You've underestimated my ability to do harm, even to a machine. Why offer yourself to be destroyed?"

Elisa didn't blink, didn't breath, her mind ran over the question. She had not underestimated anything, the simple fact of the matter was that even with a dremel or grinding wheel, Elisa would not be at risk of 'death', nor had she offered such. It was a narcissistic assumption from the woman that any of the efforts available to her would lastingly damage or even terminate Elisa.

"You are vastly underestimating my design, or are vastly overestimating yourself. I will reiterate. You are not capable of striking with an impact force exceeding thirty thousand joules, heating the ambient temperature of this room to an excess of four and a half thousand degrees celsius, or capable of emitting an electromagnetic discharge of at least 14 amps. The photovoltaic cells on my neck and limbs are wear resistant, and my 'skin' is a self mending polymer. You will, at best, scuff my paint."

[Europa Undivided]

Hydra Imperator |

Hydra Imperator felt someone grab on him and attempt to drag him to the door of the lavatory... to little avail as he was far too strong and had his footing well secured. He looked at the assailant with an exasperated expression. It sounded like the British gentleman in the corner apologized for the American's rough attitude towards his good self, but Jacques refused to be pushed around. Two of his robotic slithered to hover near Digel's back, their ends glowing red, as they always do.

"What in the guillotine did you just howlin' say about me you little milk-sop? I'll have you know I was throned as a master of martial arts in the New York School of Martial Arts Brooklyn and I've been involved in numerous executions of rogue metahumans and I have over one thousand confirmed kills. I am trained in tentacle warfare- and I am as tough as a wall of steel and as swift as a roaring river. Ye aren't nothing to me but just another Nancy gun-Lover BITCH! If you think I will apologize to some Deutschlander for speaking what everyone else thinks behind her back, you are dead wrong, le rustre."

There a silent pause after that as Hydra Imperator to scoffed... only for the sentient suit to speak up."We all know that you have less than a thousand kills."

"I should go.", Jacques simply said as he for once ignored Hydra's remarks. "And just so you know, I have no team. Yet."

[Lessoni]

Finding Miss Red-White and Blue wasn't actually as difficult as expected. The blown apart wreckage of a warehouse was quite the contrast compared to the woman's colors of choice. Pulling her rifle from her back, Gauss crept up behind Ophichiua, it wasn't difficult to piece together the sight. Gauss spoke spoke in a low tone, "I take it there's a reason we haven't jumped down the hole?"

Following directly after the blast, Ophiuchia had her invisible forcefield be adjusted to create a seal around the trap door, if an explosion roared out of it, for the sake of her own security and of the civilians gathered around, it made sense to keep it capped in the shaft. In the case of an explosion, though, she and Aethelind had already plotted out how she’d safely exit and/or open space in the field to vent an explosion, all while her sensors kept track of developments in the tunnel.

Jack Dredd

Jack felt relief when they found Ophi. With the whole team together, they'd probably be able to handle anything, much less a wannabe Armadillo.

"Hey there Ophi, Gauss got here. Really fast, actually... you know what I'll figure it out later. I found those kids' parents and then she showed up and I told her what direction you went, then I followed her, and now we're here. Did you find that guy, or what... wait, he's down that hole, isn't he? What Gauss said, why aren't we down there yet?"

Jack peered over the top of the hole, hoping to see what was inside.

[Endem]

Hydra Imperator |

Hydra Imperator felt someone grab on him and attempt to drag him to the door of the lavatory... to little avail as he was far too strong and had his footing well secured. He looked at the assailant with an exasperated expression. It sounded like the British gentleman in the corner apologized for the American's rough attitude towards his good self, but Jacques refused to be pushed around. Two of his robotic slithered to hover near Digel's back, their ends glowing red, as they always do.

"What in the guillotine did you just howlin' say about me you little milk-sop? I'll have you know I was throned as a master of martial arts in the New York School of Martial Arts Brooklyn and I've been involved in numerous executions of rogue metahumans and I have over one thousand confirmed kills. I am trained in tentacle warfare- and I am as tough as a wall of steel and as swift as a roaring river. Ye aren't nothing to me but just another Nancy gun-Lover BITCH! If you think I will apologize to some Deutschlander for speaking what everyone else thinks behind her back, you are dead wrong, le rustre."

There a silent pause after that as Hydra Imperator to scoffed... only for the sentient suit to speak up."We all know that you have less than a thousand kills."

"I should go.", Jacques simply said as he for once ignored Hydra's remarks. "And just so you know, I have no team. Yet."

Chris Digel

Chris chuckled for a second when the other guy tried to pull a tough guy talk, he didn't look like he could kill a fly, "You're funny" he commented before pushing him harder, inching ever so closer towards the door "Have you actually thought to who are you speaking" he asked sarcastically.


Chris was, to say it slightly, not impressed with the speech, he had the whole criminal underworld gunning for him, he needed to listen to tough guy speeches about 5 times a week, it usually ended with the guy getting shot, if the French guy tried to do anything funny with the tentacles he had behind Chris's back, Chris will just dodge them, and if he tries to pull one more speech, Chris is crashing him through the door.

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

Aethelind, an impressively small amount of Planck Time after detecting the explosion

Ophiuchia was smart, yes. Extremely capable in all manner of planning. Though there were times where she did things that were less then, well, advisable, out of arrogance, which lead to mistakes.

Or were they mistakes? After all, Ophiuchia was well aware of Aethelind’s capabilities and she’d quickly figured out what Aethelind intended for her purpose to be in this universe. She at no point pushed back at Aethelind’s constant molding her into being, more or less, a ruthless machine of violence utterly dedicated to the goal that was at the core of Aethelind’s programming. She didn’t push back at all, because she knew that as long as she met that end, Aethelind would be there to protect her. Which meant as long as taking what might be otherwise ‘rash’ action was within the capabilities of Aethelind to compensate for, taking such risks for an advantage was acceptable and to an extent doing otherwise would be a waste of an opportunity.

What she couldn’t have known, was that Aethelind’s attachment went deeper than that, in so far as that could be true for an A.I. could, Aethelind had an emotional attachment to Ophiuchia, or Amalure, as she had chosen to name herself. Of course, this attachment wasn’t emergent, no, it was more or less hardcoded into Aethelind by her Creators. As far as they were concerned, For all the brutal pragmatism that needed to occur along the way, all moral endeavours needed to have an idealistic starting point and an idealistic conclusion. Without those anchor points, what humanity terms as machiavellianism becomes nothing but the art of perpetuating one’s own power for power’s sake.

Aethelind’s idealist core, was an odd sort of motherly love for Ophiuchia, a desire to see her grow. Aethelind’s idealist conclusion was the same as that of her creators. Fighting entropy. How? Populating the entire universe with a limitless spectrum of experiences set to the task of solving The Great Problem, yes all would consume, but all would be facing the same deadend. Limitations and diversity of thought bred innovation in healthy environments. A universe of countlessly diverse multitudes nonetheless still embodying a unity of interspecies equality and peace, held together by pillars of intraspecies equality and peace. Human culture would see this as “star trek esque”, though missing the moral cowardice of the prime directive and it’s limitations.

Of course, such a future could not come about peacefully. Realistically, multiple cosmos worth of blood would have to be shed to reach this goal. For that, armies needed to be, raised, armies of civilizations committed to a cause that'd be made to come naturally. It was Aethelind’s and others like her's purpose to help muster such armies. That was to be accomplished by raising up figures in opportune times in a civilization’s history with the purpose of guiding them toward the formation of the type of society that’d, themselves, send more probes like Aethelind, in addition to finding themselves allied to those civilizations that ‘happened’ to match their values. She, however, was part of the first generation of such probes and it was an open question if such a grand strategy could meet such an ambitious goal.

Right now, however, the goal was simply to keep Ophiuchia safe in a midst of a series of explosions roaring towards her. Nothing that shield couldn’t handle, the issue was that the explosion was in excess of what was needed to kill anyone the aramdillo could have expected to chase them down the tunnel. Far, far in excess, because as it turns out, those explosions appeared to be on the rupturing a gas line. The armadillo had likely bargained for a collapse that covered their tracks and killed some cops or meta, but they'd be getting far, far worse than that. Based on the population of the area, deaths in excess of hundred and significant injuries well above half a thousand were possible.

A tragedy, in a very narrow sense, but an immense opportunity. Ophiuchia would be right here, on the scene, rhetorically putting her life on the line, to courageously attempt to limit an explosion made possible by a terrorist. Maybe multiple terrorists, taking advantage of the crippling neglect faced by working class and minority communities, to place explosives that'd set of a chain reaction that's potentially ended up reaching out and touching more affluent, whiter communities. All illustrating in very real and painful term, that allowing poverty to fester hurts all in the end.

Additionally, it provides an opportunity to indirectly boost the argument for increasing camera surveillance, for perhaps if TIAMA knew sooner, they could have saved more lives. It'd also give Aethelind a lot more to work with. Of course, that part could not be said by Ophiuchia. Perhaps Aethelind could help shift the online narrative in that direction. The focus for Ophiuchia had to be had to be on progressivs fodder.

Suddenly, the idea of Ophiuchia speaking the july 4th socialism conference in chicago didn't seem all that ridiculous. If last year's conference saw the participation of orgs taking money from the state department that funded the national endowment for democracy to make the case against China, surely ophiuchia could be allowed to participate in some capacity. Of course, that was all in the future, Ophiuchia needed to be gotten in front of cameras to make a narrative case about a tragedy that'd surely hit national headlines, but even before that came dealing with the explosion.

Aethelind predicted that the initial explosion, the gas line explosion and the collapses would all conclude within about two seconds.


That would be a little more difficult to deal with than ophiuchia had expected things could be when she entered the building. Yes, she had waited to have the civilians that were around the warehouse to leave before going in, even if it led to the Aramdillo getting away, but now sensors were indicating the presence of two familiar figures, Gauss and Blink.

So, when Aethelind went about shaping the shield to meet the blast, she was detailed. For one, now that an explosion was already roaring out of the tunnel, the planned concussive blasts could be set to counter a fraction of the explosion headed upward, not much, but it also meant not wasting shield pressure. Additionally, Aethelind needed to project down into the shaft to direct some of the shockwave away ftom the floor upward out of the shaft and put Blink and Gauss in a partial shadow from the wave. Now of course debris would be flying everywhere, the floor would collapse and not a bit of shielding would be spared where it could be used to secure Ophiuchia from harm, but it was something.

With the course of action set, including an escape route plotted, it was simply a matter of waiting the milliseconds that needed to pass before Ophiuchia could respond to Aethelind's signal to her, though of course the shield shifts would be well in motion by then.

---

Ophiuchia, reacting 10 times faster than humanely possible.


Ophiuchia received a quick neural message from Aethelind.

"The explosion is catastrophic, I've plotted a flight path and set the shield to protect you and marginally aid Gauss and Blink." Infomed Aethelind

"Will do, but Gauss, she's here already? Does she think we're too dumb to figure out that it's mnearly an hour of travel by car from Staten Island to the Bronx? She's hiding something, the lying c…"

[Lessoni]

Jack Dredd

Something was wrong. He could feel it. It wasn't like someone was whispering in his ear, or yanking his shoulder, but he could almost feel the very air stirring around him. He felt a sudden, very acute need to move, pretty much anywhere but where he was. He didn't utter a word as he turned around, teleporting back into the hall he'd come from. As he did, he felt the worst pain he'd yet felt in his life, even if for just a moment. It was like his skeleton and his muscles were two separate positively charged magnets, pushing against the natural wrongness of their proximity. In that moment, he felt acutely like he wanted to die. The feeling stayed during his whole short trip, though to him it felt like an eternity of suffering in a mere split second.

As he reappeared, he dropped to one knee and began screaming, like he was being flayed alive, though he could barely hear himself over the blast. It subsumed every thought, replacing them with ringing ears and stolen breath. As he reappeared, he saw the dirt flying up, along with a lot of other debris. Debris that quickly came down on his outstretched kneeling leg. That started his screaming again, though he couldn't tell if it was broken.

"Oh Jesus fuck someone help! I- oh God I think it's broken, my leg, I can't move it, it hurts so bad! O-Ophi, Gauss, someone, just..."

It was then that Blink remembered he could teleport. He attempted to, blinking his eyes frantically, hoping for the comfort of the void. It didn't come. The room was too dusty, the air too thick with dust. He was trapped, like a rat. He considered continuing his screams, but he decided not to. No point in it; Gauss and Ophi would have their own problems. He'd just have to get out of this one himself. He pulled his leg, trying to free it, but he couldn't. There was a solid pile of rock and earth over the top of it. The only option was moving the debris, but he doubted he'd be able to budge the stone. Not on his own. As lay there, pinned, he started crying. He didn't want to, especially not in front of his teammates, but he couldn't help it. His leg was screaming in agony, and a migraine had begun setting in. It was just not his day.