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Gods Among Us (IC|Superhero|Closed)

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Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16874
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Gods Among Us (IC|Superhero|Closed)

Postby Anowa » Sun May 03, 2020 7:51 pm






Dr. Anthony Cross
TIAMA Offices, World Trade Center


It wasn't too often a day like this occurred. Sure, New York had incidents, some random armed robberies, a few Metas causing a ruckus over in the Bronx, so one so forth. But very rarely did a day like today occur. Up north, the Indian Point reactor has a supposed break in, The Federal reserve down the street was currently under siege, and, if reports were understood, The Staten Island Ferry had been stopped dead in the water.

TIAMA's regional offices in North America weren't new constructions for the most part, as opposed to European, African and Asian offices, which had whole new buildings constructed. Anthony himself now stood in the darkened planning room usually devoted to seminars on public relations and after action reports, a small auditorium focusing on a holotable of his own design, and donated rather liberally to TIAMA personnel and offices globally. It was a more streamlined and user friendly amalgamation of a projector and smart board. Really it was much like a whiteboard for a SWAT team, for when planning was befitting, obviously running back here when a member of TIAMA was a first responder wasn't a smart move.

Within the room with him were a number of TIAMA personnel, the so called 'Heroes of a New Age'. To his left at the table, one Wolfram Herrman. A heavily scarred man with an obvious military background. Outside of that, Anthony couldn't dredge up anything else about him other than being the operations chief for the Northeast Division of TIAMA North America. had the man been employed before Anthony stepped down as Administrator, he'd likely know more, but at the moment he was just here in an advisory capacity.

Anthony remained silent as the light dimmed, the grizzled veteran spoke, his voice a gravelly rasp, obviously having spent most of his life yelling... or smoking. Probably both. "Right, as of current we have two major incidents within our purview that no other teams can attend. There was an incident up in Indian Head, but FUNK's[1] already on that like white on rice, as per usual. So that leaves the incidents down the street in the reserve and the Staten Island Ferry."

Anthony chose then to speak up, his southern drawl betraying his noted education, "I can take care of the ferry."

Herrman paused, "You don't exactly looked well equipped enough Doctor."

Anthony shook his head, "Well, not me specifically, I have a weapon's platform I've been meaning to run through a live event. Figured the ferry would provide a reasonably well closed off location for that."

The elder of the two simply raised a brow, "I'd ask questions but knowing you, you've answered them already. Just know if it bites the bullet and stops working we may not be able to get people over there to help in time."

Anthony nodded, "If they need help you'll be needing a hazmat team."

"I don't want to know, so I'll continue." tapping on the screen a few times he typed something in, and a layout of the Federal Reserve was dropped into view on the table, "That leaves the largest gold deposit in the world, from a number of foreign governments as well as the US' own. Normally, the Secret Service, FBI, and NYPD would storm the place, but as it stands, they think that a Meta-human is involved. FUNK would be the next best thing, but they are, again, dealing with a nuclear power plant. So, that leaves us to save the global economy."

The building was cut down to the lobby, the teller area, and of course, the vault itself. "Now, contact with security was lost not too long after the silent alarm was tripped, and 911 calls were picked up.. Based on the view the police cordon has, the windows and exits are encased in a layer of ice ranging between one to three feet thick, meaning a confirmed cryokinetic user, we don't know if anyone else with powers is involved, but we do know they have firearms, based on a few frantic calls reporting such. So, we have a few entrances we can-"

The man was cut off by a call over intercom, a woman with a rather middle eastern sounding voice frantically speaking, "Herrman, the vault doors in the Reserve are reporting a loss of electrical current and a breach alarm, they've breached the vault, and you're out of time."

Herrman simply sighed, "Shit. Alright folks, get down there and bust down the goddamned door, stay safe and don't get killed. Remember, get them alive is possible, fatalities are a last resort." As those assembled rather swiftly shuffled out of the room, Herrman turned to Cross, "Son, I sure as Hell hope that whatever you're doing on the Ferry, it's done perfectly."

Anthony shrugged, still looking at the bank's lobby, "AI don't make mistakes on read and write."


Footnotes
[1] FUNK - A special division of the NYPD SWAT tasked specifically with operations pertaining to tactical situations, standoffs and sieges which involve one or multiple Meta-Human suspects.
Last edited by Anowa on Tue Aug 18, 2020 4:52 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

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Revlona
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Posts: 5947
Founded: Jan 23, 2017
Father Knows Best State

Postby Revlona » Thu May 07, 2020 8:26 am

Henry


Working as gas station attendant almost made you wish you could burn the place down, knowing that you could do so whenever you pleased kept you from really doing it, wheres the fun in no challenge? Henry plastered his fake smile across his face as he moved the customers item under the scanner several times, the piece of crap taking to much effort to scan the candy bar. Henry let a sigh go out slowly through his nose as it finally scanned, the customer in front of him, a large balding man, offered him a sympathetic smile as he took the candy and left.

Henry's eyes shot up as the back door opened and a girl in her late teens entered wearing the disheveled uniform of the Gas Station. "You're late," Henry said without emotion, jerking his head to the clock that read 2:20.

"Yeah, what about it?" Christy, the girl, said. Arrogance and a sense of not caring in her voice.

"I've got things to do, don't be late next time," He said as he gathered up his things and made ready to leave the store, smiling to a customer and nodding an apology as he bumped lightly into him.

"What do ya got to do? I've seen you walking around town like a stalker," Christy said, popping a piece of bubblegum obnoxiously as she did so.

"Fuck it , she's next." Henry thought to himself as she popped her bubblegum again. Its not like he had anything better to do tonight, so he would wait for her shift to end and follow her home from a distance. He knew she lived in a rather nice little house and he was curious to see what it looked like when on fire.
Lover of doggos

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Mandicoria
Senator
 
Posts: 3935
Founded: Sep 10, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Mandicoria » Thu May 07, 2020 7:37 pm

Kazakh Steppes
1°C/33.8°F
15:20
20 Kilometers from the nearest settlement.


The wind howled among the vast steppes of Central Kazakhstan, with a nip in the air brought along with the breeze. A light snow covered the ground, with large patches of grass and bush poking through to a sunny sky. A tall figure walked along these frigid lands, occasionally stopping to scan the horizons around. A few puffs of smoke would come from their mouth as they walked, a blackened smoke only seen from cheap Russian cigarettes. Ahead of this figure was another one, clearly rushing and stumbling through the uneven terrain. A few loud cries of panic coming from the stumbling figure as a loud thunderous THOOM echoed across the land.

Upon closer inspection, the figure calling for help was an Officer of the law clearly. Evident with a tattered gear of some old Soviet origin. Fitting for a Kazakh backwater territory. The Officer was on the ground crawling, still howling for help in the seemingly lifeless steppes. As the taller figure approached slower and slower, the clicks and clangs of a rifle's bolt being cycled being audible from a short distance away. With the crunching of twigs and near frozen grass becoming louder and louder to the gasping, panicking Officer. Eventually the Officer could sense the footsteps to be right by his side, moving with him as he crawled in the shrubbery.

He turned over, coughing up blood in the process and noticing the extent of the wound inflicted by the rifle that shot him. Even if he were spared he wasn't gonna make it. He tried to gasp out a word, but was interrupted by his own coughing in the process as he was grabbed by the collar of his uniform. The covered face of his murderer looking straight in his eyes. A puff of smoke blowing in his bruised face while the figure looked over his wounds.

"Tell me what you thought you would be gaining in the long term from how you treated your own." The Figure demanded of the wounded Officer, aggressively adjusting the body of his quarry as he slowly pulled a knife with his free hand. "I'm certain you didn't have any idea of where you would end up on your own personal road to Hell. But I can very much assure you that you would have been a fool if you thought it would get you somewhere pleasant."

The Officer choked on his blood, fear in his eyes as he saw the knife draw to his chest. He gagged and wheezed as he saw the knife draw back up. "F-fuck you, FUCK YOU!" He managed to scream before the knife came down, causing a small cascade of blood across the snow.

The Figure dropped the now lifeless body of his quarry, wiping the blood from his knife as he sheathed it. Shuddering as the thought of the blood exited his mind before sighing... "I really should tell them the 'Charon' name next time. It'd at least get them scared in their last moments... Befitting of scum like them." He murmured to himself as he pulled another cigarette out of his pack, lighting it with a sigh and taking a deep inhale of its poison. "Not that it would really change much." He exhaled with a puff of blackened smoke.

The wind howled once more as "Charon" took another inhale of his toxic cigarette, standing over the corpse of another target. Eventually ending with him continuing his not-so-merry way through the endless steppes. Clouds filling the once empty skies as the lone man became ever distant from the one he coldly killed. Nobody would end up finding the deceased Officer, and just as many would care that yet another corrupt backwater authority was gone...

Hours Later.

Local Bar, near undisclosed Western Corporation-Owned Airfield
3°C/37.4°F
21:34
Plane engines shake up the bar...


Charon took off his face cover, revealing his tired face to the cold air outside the bar. He grumbled as he entered the run down building, being greeted with rock music from a bygone age he oh so wished was still around. Only the owner, a shady man sitting at a table, and a few western employees enjoying a drink before returning to their labor intensive jobs. Charon sighed as he of course sat at the table of the shady individual, placing down an unopened yet crumbled envelope in front of them.

"Is our arrangement still going to be honored, friend?" He asked to the man sitting across. Nudging over the envelope closer across the table. "I do hope we can-"

He was interrupted abruptly by the individual coughing, taking the envelope swiftly while gesturing to the door. "Tonight, the plane leaves tonight. You want your shot at this big shot western guy, and you'll get it if you go tonight." The figure hastily told them, looking around the room. "Now just understand: Go to Hangar 1, and talk to the younger man at the cargo loading station. He's short, blond haired, doesn't cover his face. Only talk to him, otherwise you're stuck here in Kazakhstan and never getting your chance. Understand?"

Charon nodded as he stood up quickly, departing the bar just as quickly as he entered. The night sky was choked out by the bright lights from the air strip. Loud engines drowning out the sound of anything else short of a gunshot. Almost perfect for such a stealthy entry. Charon hurried along the runway, making sure not to be spotted along the way to Hangar 1. Of course following his instructions as he found the younger man the individual in the bar spoke of.

Within seconds of even getting the young man's attention, he was hurried into the cargo bay of a plane marked with the trademarks of "EPOCH LLC". Being obscured among other great amounts of cargo destined for travel to America. Charon, or Misha thought to himself as he adjusted in the cramped conditions. Was this truly worth it? Was it worth going after some random American corporate big wig to fight against the oppression of his old country? As the plane's engines started, and takeoff began, he could only keep questioning himself.

He spent years fighting in Kazakhstan, and now he was going to a land full of people he was taught to hate all his life. Truly a risky move...
Last edited by Mandicoria on Thu May 07, 2020 8:14 pm, edited 3 times in total.
very bitter anarcho syndicalist with a mancrush on nestor makhno. debate me liberal. also a proud SRA member
feel free to telegram, i don't care
What if Humanity was as Important as it thought it was... But it turned out to not be a very good thing.
also i rip off warhammer, DOOM, and halo unapologetically
Highly suggest listening to this when reading anything I post about this nation.
A [1.18] civilization, according to this index.

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Biagee Manu
Civilian
 
Posts: 1
Founded: Apr 27, 2020
Ex-Nation

Postby Biagee Manu » Thu May 07, 2020 7:38 pm

not a big fan of the photo:/

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Endem
Minister
 
Posts: 2975
Founded: Aug 19, 2018
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Endem » Fri May 08, 2020 4:31 pm

Chris Digel

Saving a bank, funny, he once was meant to take part in robbing one, fortunately, or not, the plan got scrapped before they got the chance to have a go at it. The building was mostly grey, dull, and a little less than uninteresting, except the fact all the windows were covered in ice, and the entrance was a little less than one uniform slab of ice.

He approached one of the officers present, the TIAMA team has arrived a few minutes ago, and thankfully, he was allowed to take C4 with him, "Do you have a explosives expert here? Otherwise, we'll need a couple hours and some good ice picks to get through the doors" the officer gave him an uneasy look and quietly nodded.

After a few minutes a explosives expert was brought before Chris, a rather stocky man with a trimmed beard, that's about everything you could discern while he had his uniform on, Chris handed him the C4 and told him "Make the ice explode" the policeman took the C4 begrudgingly and started planting in on the ice blocking the doorframe before retreating.

"On my signal!" Chris shouted, giving a few seconds before shouting again "Prepare!" He then gave another few seconds for everyone to prepare for the blast "Fire!". A blast rocked the ground and Chris could feel air brushing past his face, and when the dust settled only smoke was blocking the doorframe, Chris took out his pistols and shouted to the TIAMA team "All right, everyone, let's go deal with a couple of criminals".
Nothing to see here

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Central Crew
Secretary
 
Posts: 30
Founded: Apr 21, 2020
Ex-Nation

Postby Central Crew » Sat May 09, 2020 7:35 am

Matthew Octave

The sun rose once again to Matthew Octave. The 'small' apartment were he resided was a gift from TIAMA to ‘show their appreciation’. In truth all they wished was for him to avoid any and all of the human interaction that came with staying in motels and hotels. He was after all, probably one of the biggest source of headaches for TIAMA and the US government. They practically had an entire team working on monitoring him, more that many criminals and metas would ever get.
How lucky.

Matthew prepared his breakfast with one hand while reading the news on the other. Nothing of enormous interest. A lot of people had died, and another lot had been born. That basically summarized it all. He sat on his table, changed the pages on The Book and began eating. He decided to read about one of the endless other worlds while finishing his food. After all, for all of his power, he would still feel hunger and fatigue. In fact dying of hunger and thirst were really useful techniques for when he was captive and couldn’t commit suicide. Yep, for him, dying was but a tool to his reach his goals.
How lucky.

Matthew finished eating and left the building. He ignored all of the other people that resided in the building. None of them picked his or The Book’s interest. It was as if all of the other residents had been handpicked to be as boring as they could be. Which was actually the case. He left the uninteresting building for the streets without any goal in mind.

He could almost feel the presence of the man that was being tasked with stalking him. After his last incident, in which he had sneaked out to Belgium and continued to visit various other countries, he was once again on ‘Probation Period’. But in the end he had captured a great quantity of villains, so they weren’t as severe on their punishment. Or so is what they say.

Matthew chuckled. In truth they wanted nothing more to be able to contain him. But the last time they had attempted that it resulted in seven people losing their mind, and one almost lost his life. The Book was truly merciless when it came in reuniting with him.

Speaking of; he started another bet with The Book. This time it was on how many people would commit suicide on the city. If he lost then he would go search for another ‘interesting individual’. But not today. Today was work day. He checked The Book once more, disappointment following. The Book had stayed just like in the morning. There aren’t any important events that required his assistance on the city, just the classic song and dance. I t appeared that he would not be required in his hero-mode today.

However he did feel something. It was that strange feeling that The Book sometimes passed on to him. He instantly knew what it meant. This feeling appeared every time that a big or important series of events were happening. Or about to happen. Matthew pocketed The Book and continued walking to the center of the city. Maybe he will actually wear the mask today. After all, he had the unique and rare opportunity to write his own story.
How lucky.
Last edited by Central Crew on Wed Jun 24, 2020 8:54 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Jerno
Envoy
 
Posts: 299
Founded: Jul 06, 2018
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Jerno » Sat May 09, 2020 8:09 am

John Farrow

John walked down the street currently headed to his apartment. He turned around a corner, making sure no one followed him. He then proceeded to transform into a bird, a pigeon to be exact, and flew into the sky. Flying through the air made navigating around NYC much easier, and it was faster than walking. John quickly changed his mind about going to his apartment, since there wasn’t much he could do anyway. He’d been without a job for a couple of weeks now and if he didn’t find one quickly he’ll be a homeless person soon. Stop, John told himself, worrying about it won’t solve anything, he told himself.

He soon spotted a strange individual looking at a book, he seemed worried, at least that’s what John thought, he couldn’t figure out which. He flew to a nearby tree and transformed once more into a squirrel. This man seemed interesting enough to watch, he thought. Sure it sounded kinda stalker-ish, but he was bored and had nothing to do “you could look for a job” his brain told him, John chided back I’ve been turned down a lot of times.

Either way this guy seemed interesting for a bit. I’m bored and I’m gonna have my share of fun he thought to himself. Once more he transformed this time into a capuchin monkey, will it attract attention, sure, he thought. He quickly gathered several nuts and threw one into his direction missing his target by a bit. He threw another, and another until one landed its mark and hit one on the guy.

Once he landed his mark, he quickly disappeared from view and left. He would continue to observe the interesting person from a distance.

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Mandicoria
Senator
 
Posts: 3935
Founded: Sep 10, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Mandicoria » Sat May 09, 2020 1:43 pm

Undisclosed Airfield, State of Mississippi
22°C/71.6°F
9:13
A Mild Southern Morning...


The plane carrying Charon landed a few hours ago, and a long flight lasting a good few days finally over. Charon himself was already quickly distancing from the runway, making sure to stay unnoticed the whole time. It wasn't too hard with the sounds of jet engines constantly bearing over the private airfield. He did however have some issue with the fact the airfield was located near a small rural town with tons of empty, unused, and overgrown fields near it. Odd seeing the very rival of the USSR that flaunted its wealth constantly being just as if not more rundown than Kazakhstan was.

The airfield was distant now, and Charon trudged through the muddied and overgrown fields. Up until he came up on a road, leading straight to town. He gazed upon the sign realizing that despite the town being relatively close, it was still a good.. wait, 20 miles? Charon scratched his head as he looked at the odd sign. They didn't really teach him about "Miles" back in the day... He reckoned it'd be around the same amount in Kilos, so he shrugged as his pulled out a cigarette. Lighting it as he began walking once more, taking a deep breath of its toxic yet calming smoke. His path becoming much less long with his calming smoke there to help... Until suddenly...

The roars of a truck's engine, and its operators come from behind...


He looked back , puffing out his smoke as a red truck rushed by. With the howls and hollers of the driver and his passengers gave off the idea they were excited to be doing something. Until for a split second he noticed in the trucks bed, as someone being dragged down and beaten after a brief scream for "Help" was audible. The truck continued for a few meters before turning right over to a small woodland patch ahead. The screams being more audible as the truck's engine quieted. Charon tossed aside his cigarette as he took his rifle off his shoulder. Hurrying ahead.

Up in the thick woods he could make out the group of 3 younger men, all roughly in their 20's, pulling out a fourth individual. Young male teen, looks 15-17 from Charon's position. He saw them kick a tied up unfortunate soul from the back of their truck into the dirt below. He looked as they kicked and beat tied young man with a baseball bat. His own disgust mounting as he saw the leader come up to mock the young teen...

"Y'all know what we do with you fuckin' freaks down here right?" The tallest of the group said to the poor teen they snatched "Let alone a 'tourist' one..." the rest of his group broke out laughing in horrific glee as he spat onto their captive. "We ain't gonna kill ya no, that's the critters' job. We're just gonna make you wish you were dead. Don't even think you're innocent here, we all know your kind has always caused shit wherever they went. Fuckin' super freaks cause worse than what we're bouta do to you..." The 'leader' of the group took the baseball bat once more, readying to beat their captive one last time.

The unfortunate captive closed their eyes, tears streaming down their bruised face as he could sense the worst was yet to come. He took one deep inhale as he prepared for the coming pain...

Then a loud crack of thunder hit...


Two of the three men fell limp to the ground as a red mist sprayed upon the ground, the truck, their captive, and their now shocked leader. He darted around, confused as he saw the now shredded bits of head scattered over him. Seeing the mincemeat of his former friends' craniums. He let out a loud scream as he heard rustling from the bush, readying his baseball bat in defense.

"WHAT THE FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK, SHOW YOURSELF YOU-" He interrupted himself by seemingly choking on his own words in fear. Until another loud CRACK echoed in its deafening blast, a mist of blood emerging from his leg. "MY FUCKING LEG FUCK MAN GOD WHAT-"

Charon emerged from the brush, an audible crick-clack coming as he cycled his rifle's bolt. He stormed over, looming over the now single leader of the group as the screams of fear and pain worsened. He stood over both the wounded captor, and the hogtied captive. Unsheathing his bayonet as he lowered down to cut the unfortunate captive free. He aided them up before gesturing at them and bluntly grunting "Run..." to them.

The captive gave him a thankful nod before running off through the brush, crying from the fear of their situation. Leaving Charon and his quarry alone.

"Fuck man what do you want! I'll give you some money, you can have my truck if you want! J-just don't shoot!" The wounded human trash pleaded. Covering his face as Charon towered over him.

Charon pulled out a cigarette and lit it. As he inhaled the calming smoke once more, he looked down upon his quarry. They were clearly bleeding out from being shot in the leg by a Mosin. They weren't gonna last, this was good. "Tell me, American, when you chose to do such an act... Kidnapping someone much younger than yourself... Getting your friends... What did you think was going to happen?" Charon lowered himself to exhale smoke into his quarry's face, staring them in the eye.

"F-fuck man I'm sorry! We were just drunk and shit, we weren't gonna kill the kid-"

"Yet you decided to bring harm upon an innocent teenager. Just because...? I'm not here to give the "psychoanalysis" or whatever you Americans want to say. You already chose your path, and thus your fate. Tell me, American, do you fear death?" Charon took another puff from his cigarette before standing back up, a blackened ooze starting to form on the ground around them both. Multiple figures slowly rising up to Charon's sides, each covered in a tar-like substance and resembling soldiers from a bygone age.

"W-what.... a-are you...." The wounded man gasped in fear as the deathly figures rose, pointing multiple ghostly Kalashnikovs upon him.

"Nobody special." Charon exhaled before throwing his cigarette onto his wounded quarry. "Fire." Without a second delay the ghostly figures began a deafening orchestra of thunder. Unleashing their unending payload upon their target for a solid five minutes. A spray of blood and the blackened ooze covering the ground filling the air until Charon raised his hand. "Cease." He grunted, shivering as he looked down to see the bloody pulp that was once a man. His ghostly retinue sinking slowly into the ground, and the ooze receding as a small tear emerged from Charon's eye.

He sighed as he looked around knowing he would have to immediately hurry off, knowing that his little display would most assuredly gain the attention of locals. He shouldered his rifle once more, before hurrying off through the brush. Leaving his bloody display in the middle of the woods, which will most assuredly be found. But he would be long gone by the time anyone arrived, he knew too well how to avoid further attention from his experience in Kazakhstan... This time however, it could be noticed by much bigger forces than the backwater Kazakh law enforcement...

He could only continue in the endless rundown fields as sunset arrived. All Charon could think to himself as he continued through the state's seemingly unending backwater... was that he was long way from home...
Last edited by Mandicoria on Mon May 11, 2020 11:57 am, edited 2 times in total.
very bitter anarcho syndicalist with a mancrush on nestor makhno. debate me liberal. also a proud SRA member
feel free to telegram, i don't care
What if Humanity was as Important as it thought it was... But it turned out to not be a very good thing.
also i rip off warhammer, DOOM, and halo unapologetically
Highly suggest listening to this when reading anything I post about this nation.
A [1.18] civilization, according to this index.

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Dyelli Beybi
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5811
Founded: Antiquity
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Dyelli Beybi » Sun May 10, 2020 1:46 pm

Imogen Vaughan

Unlike some of the other TIAMA heroes, Imogen Vaghan was only a 'sponsored hero' and had a day job to hold down as well. This meant that she wasn't always in a good place to be of help when things kicked off, as they had today. It didn't help that she didn't have any travel powers that would get her there faster than her motorbike would carry her... well she did, but they weren't really safe to use in a big city. If she drew a portal there was a reasonably good chance of her opening it up inside someone, with predictably fatal results, plus there was always the danger of getting lost in time and space again, which she was quite keen to avoid.

When she pulled up outside the police she drew a few looks, not that there weren't a few reasons; she was a small woman on a rather large bike (a triumph Bonneville T100) and she was wearing the kind of white tactical gear that was more normal when there was snow. She fumbled around in her pocked before producing her TIAMA identity documents. The officer looked it over, "Kaleidoscope?" it didn't sound like he had any idea who she was, not that Imogen minded, the more noticeable she got the more dangerous this side job got, "You're late. Your guys have already gone in."

"Next time I'll take the subway, I'm sure that will be faster," she replied caustically, "So do you want to let me through? I'll wait at wherever the field HQ is if they need backup. Never hurts to have an extra set of hands."

The officer glowered at her. Apparently leading with a flippant remark was the wrong choice, though after a few moments he grunted, waving her through. The bike purred to life again as Imogen guided it through the cordon. If she was needed, she was here, if not, she hoped there was coffee.

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Central Crew
Secretary
 
Posts: 30
Founded: Apr 21, 2020
Ex-Nation

Postby Central Crew » Mon May 11, 2020 7:43 am

Matthew Octave

It appeared that the number of people following him had doubled in the last ten minutes. Just when he had been having such a great time lost in thought, someone rudely hit him out of it! And somehow managed to avoid him seeing whoever it had been.

And not only that. The moment he searched for the culprit, The Book let out it’s most recognizable ‘important person’ alert. This situation tended to happen a lot for him. Just as how The Book marked the interesting people, many of those people subconsciously seek him out… Or it could just be the fact that he’s the only one on this bloody city who is wearing a Top hat. Uncultured swines…

Whatever the reason, it appears to have attracted a troublemaker to him this time. How luck-Huh?
… Was that a… monkey?

He saw it clearly, although for a small moment. There was a monkey on the middle of this city. And that monkey (Capuchin monkey according to The Book) picked his ‘interest’. It wasn’t the first time that an animal entered his especial radar but… He also appears to be avoiding me…

Matthew quickly crossed the street and moved forward. He noticed a pigeon fly out of the area the monkey was, and into the roof of another building. And sure enough, the monkey peeked out again, and hid itself just as quickly. He was also keeping a strict gaze on that building. The monkey technically never left the first building.

Gotcha!

He searched for the identity of his mysterious stalker. By just searching for people with the ability to morph into animals, and with some assistance form The Book’s ‘interest’ radar he found him. The only was he wouldn’t find him after spotting him was if he wished to keep his identity hidden for whatever reason. The fact that it didn’t erased a little suspicion form him. In the end it was like he wished to be found. Why on earth would he transform in a monkey instead of another creature?

And yes, he began reading about his morphing stalker. John Farrow, 22 years old, meta human (obviously), a goody two-shoes, and not someone who wishes to keep much of his life in secrecy for the looks of it. He didn’t have much time for him to become destitute. Poor man.

Just then, a particular event happened. A shootout began in the middle of the city between some police officers and some criminals. Normal, but it was a combination of two metas and two humans. The criminal underworld is very ‘inclusive’ by the looks of it. Matthew took cover a street away from the conflict and picked The Book. He probably won’t be able to read their identities, but he could read about the powers they had.

One just had a great increase in his strength and physical capabilities. The other had one of his arms replaced with a gun, which was his power. Two normal crooks with powers that probably derivative from other much more strong. He could probably could take all five of them alone but…

He checked for his stalker on the roof. The event had led John to not be wary of his gaze anymore. He quickly hid from the public eye and used his clothes manipulation to enter his hero costume(which is just his mask and a different coat) and headed on to be a hero once more. But this time he had his sighs on something else.

Let’s see what Curious John will do in this situation.

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Jerno
Envoy
 
Posts: 299
Founded: Jul 06, 2018
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Jerno » Mon May 11, 2020 2:58 pm

John Farrow

He was sure he had cautiously followed the mysterious person, so why did he feel like he knew he was there? Well his mind chided, anyone would spot a friggin monkey don’t ya think?. Sure sure, true he told himself. With a good distance he followed the person. He followed the person from street to street occasionally morphing from street to street in order to keep an eye on him.

Awe crap

John thought. Up ahead lay a shootout with the police and from the looks of it there were two metas involved. John stood still observing the situation. From the looks of it the most dangerous one was the guy with the gun. That guy would need to be taken out first. From where he stood he had several options, he could easily turn them to rats or even a harmless rabbit. But that was to easy, and he also knew the guy anticipated his next move. He went out of sight from the guy and returned to his human self. He leaned against the wall. He could also....hmm. Morphing into those was like lifting weights that were slightly more heavier than normal.

But his brain reminded him once more of the humans status and it was clear that they were in danger. oh well he thought, to hell with it.

Once more he morphed once more. This time into something, quite unordinary. As fast as he has morphed, he melted into the shadows. Two birds with one stone. As for the guy it was clear that, John shouldn’t be underestimated. He sped through the shadows and using a shadow of one of the criminals, reappeared once more first tackling the guy with the gun with his sheer brute force. He quickly turned around and snapped at the other criminal. He quickly snatched the other one and with a brute swing threw him toward a nearby wall. With a swing of his paw, also threw the guy with the gun toward the wall as well. He bounded over just as fast as he had thrown them and once more snatched them up. He then looked directly at the guy with the book with a expression that resembled, what are ya waiting for? He would them wait for the guy with the book to come forward as well.

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Mandicoria
Senator
 
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Founded: Sep 10, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Mandicoria » Tue May 12, 2020 9:32 pm

Abandoned Factory, State of Mississippi
15°C/59°F
23:45
A Stressful Night


Charon was pacing around in a makeshift camp he set up in some long abandoned old factory. Shocking to see that once more the very nation that was flaunting its endless wealth to the world was a decaying mass. Enough to make those who care think for a long while. Charon was not one who cared, this was not his home. Sure he would help others, as everyone deserves help, but the rotting corpse of the very country he hated was something he would rather see fester for eternity. He looked out to the shockingly well lit fields around the factory, lighting another cigarette and sighing.

"I was such a fool for even coming here..." he sighed to himself, taking a puff of his cigarette. "Heh, well I'm also a fool for smoking as much as I do..." He chuckled to himself, sniffling a little before looking back out. "This land is... Horrible. I don't know if I want to try and cut my losses and go back home, continue this little escapade into the heart of darkness, or..." He looked down at his holster, pulling out his makarov. Its a noticeable shimmer coming off it from the fire's light, the scratched on "1987" visible for him. He cocked it as he placed it in his mouth for a few long, dragging seconds. Before chuckling, unloading it, and holstering it once more. "Not today..." he grumbled.

His tired eyes didn't even attempt to fall down. He was exhausted, but not tired. He could still hear it, the voices of those men he killed in the woods. It's all muddled in his mind, as he's killed many others like them... Each one's voice reminded to him, only to be forgotten moments later in the drowning horde of dead he's heard. It was hellish for him, and it tormented him every time his eyes closed.

It was a long night ahead for him, and he knew it. The scene of his previous endeavor was already filled with red and blue lights he could see from kilometers away. Another reminder for him to think further about what he just did. But tonight his own thoughts subsided, and he could actually start feeling relaxed... He dozed off before he could even start thinking once more. Getting the first sleep he's had since he left Kazakhstan.
very bitter anarcho syndicalist with a mancrush on nestor makhno. debate me liberal. also a proud SRA member
feel free to telegram, i don't care
What if Humanity was as Important as it thought it was... But it turned out to not be a very good thing.
also i rip off warhammer, DOOM, and halo unapologetically
Highly suggest listening to this when reading anything I post about this nation.
A [1.18] civilization, according to this index.

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Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16874
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Anowa » Wed May 13, 2020 3:40 am

Dr. Anthony Cross
The Hudson River, Underneath the Staten Island Ferry


he never got over the incredulous looks and screams of horror every time he drove his car into a body of water. The 4 ton armoured and submersible beast that voided every warranty Bentley had been for quite a long time, his magnum opus. It didn't need gasoline, rarely required maintenance, could eat the burst from an A-10 Warthog and was self driving. It even linked with his phone so the AI he had fashioned after Teddy Roosevelt could drive while he slept. Of course, the next magnum opus on Anthony's block was standing on top of the vehicle.

"So, Elisa, you know that when I say neutralize. I don't mean indiscriminately kill the suspects, right?"

The AI's voice echoed through the audio system of Anthony's car, "Yes."

Anthony nodded, "Okay, good. I don't need a repeat of December."

"He was armed." came the AI, matter of factly.

"He was Mister Yamato's security guard. He was cleared to have a tazer."

"Tazers have a 0.03% chance of fatality due to heart failure."

Anthony sighed, It was like dealing with a child, with an IQ exponentially higher than his own and with the force capable of punching through a car door. "Alright, I guess that'll have to do. Just, please don't put everyone onboard with a gun into a brain dead state."

With that, the car began to rise oh so barely out of the water. A few seconds later, Elisa stepped off onto the rear of the Staten Island Ferry. Anthony descended again, pulling out a tablet to watch from Elisa's eyes.


E.L.I.S.A
The Hudson River, Staten Island Ferry
TRACK 01


Opening the entryway door to the first deck of the Ferry, Elisa immediately spotted a duo of individuals, one armed with what looked like a shotgun, from the angle she was at, some of it was obscured, but she identified it likely as a Mossberg 500 variant, the heat from the barrel gave a clue that it had been fired recently. The other armed with an Kalashnikov rifle variant, Valmet RK-76. Not inherently illegal in the US, but not imported anymore. Given the rivets present, it was fully automatic, not the stamped civilian version.

Neither individual noticed her approach. A number of civilians did. Elisa approached the first from the back. He suddenly turned, and gazed upon the eyes of the machine. Cold and lifeless, like a farm combine with a face. Elisa's face, while human, and incredibly realistic, didn't have any microexpressions, just a blank, synthetic mask boring a hole into the soul of the man who was rooted in fear. Elisa's leg shot out in accordance with her arms, seizing the shotgun he used and slamming her left foot into his right thigh, a resounding, almost industrial crack echoed across the deck as his femur was snapped like a twig. His screaming immediately started as he dropped and rapidly passed out from the pain.

Decocking and racking the slide of the shotgun part way, Elisa took note of the shell inside the Mossberg 500 she had taken possession of, Winchester, 12 gauge deer slug, self rifling. Permissible penetration at this distance in such an environment. Raising it above the heads and bodies of the civilians, a now terrified suspect raised his rifle to fire. Elisa reacted first, and man's head above his nose ceased to exist, showering a number of people behind him with gore as his body simply dropped. Elisa racked the slide, taking note of five separate pairs of footsteps from the deck above and the nearby stairways.

Elisa ducked into one of the stairways and aimed upwards. A man peered over the railing above, and Elisa fired in response, the man's neck being ripped open by the lead slug. He dropped over the railing and fell two decks downwards, the dull thud of his corpse leading to screams from those seated below. Tracking the footsteps based on the sound, two on the 1st deck now, and 2 on the second deck, and she was stuck between them.

Walking up the stairs to the first flight. The AI heard the first, closer set of footfalls coming from above. The instant the man came around the corner he received a deer slug to his gut, dropping on the spot and crying out in pain. From below, a man rounded the corner and started spraying wantonly into the stairwell. Racking the slide, Elisa lined up a shot of her own only to hear a click in response. The 4 round tube didn't include anything in the chamber, had at least one round fired before Elisa engaged, had run dry. As round pinged off of her metal endoskeleton, flaying off portions of her polymer flesh, she simply threw the shotgun at the man, where it bounced off his skull, knocking him out as a spray of blood flowed from his now pulverized nose and mouth.

The second man had arrived on the second deck and began firing at Elisa. A counter to what the previous suspects had, he was firing pepper balls at the machine, which had proven innefective in the extreme. Casually striding up the dozen steps towards the man, Elisa simply backhanded the weapon out of his grasp and drove her fist into his mouth. The man's teeth and jaw grotesquely emulated a bowl of Rice Krispies as he dropped, holding his face and moaning.

The footsteps came bounding up the stairs behind Elisa as the AI turned. Catching a full on blast of 12 gauge buckshot to the head. Her left eye was destroyed, the side of her face previously coated in the polymer sheath had been rended down to the metallic skull and tattered synthetic muscle. Anyone who wasn't screaming from the gunfire or dying men on the ground certainly were now.

As the man stood in shock as Elisa still stood, her left arm shot out, fingers digging into his ear and thumb into his right eye, as her left fist wound back and slammed into the man's face at a gut wrenching speed. A sickening plethora of cracks were registered as the structural integrity of the man's skull failed and he ceased to be. Dropping like a ragdoll and tumbling down the stairs, effectively headless.

"Mister Cross, the Ferry is secured, EMTs are required. There are two dead, two injured and two critically injured."

A sigh came over her internal telecomms, "Well, at least they aren't all dead."
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

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Kylantha
Minister
 
Posts: 2263
Founded: Jan 22, 2015
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Kylantha » Wed May 13, 2020 5:20 am


The Nightbird and The Iron Prince
鵺と鉄彦


In the lobby of a new and prestigious hotel in Manhattan, a young Japanese woman strides in. She has an unsettling glare plastered across her face and a walk that indicates that she isn't happy. None of the staff give her a second look and keep their gazes low as she bypasses them and makes a beeline for the elevators. She doesn't wait for anyone, instead using a keycard out of her pocket to take her straight to the top floor. She taps her foot impatiently and successfully resists the urge to smash the source of that god-awful music. As soon as the doors slide smoothly apart, she's out, knocking over a pair of men as she does so. She pays them no attention even as they yell after her, not seeming to realise that they'd just been floored by a girl half their size.

As she walked down the well-lit halls, she half-hoped they'd come after her. But alas, they did not, robbing her of some much needed recreation. Deciding against following and doing away with them herself, the young lady continues until she reaches a blank door to one of the penthouse units. With her card, she opens the door and enters. She doesn't bother to take her coat off and marvel at the spacious and beautifully decorated room. After all, she'd been here several times. Instead, she makes for the master bedroom and pushes the double doors open.

The man laying in bed jolts to an upright position. "(Hibana.. What.. What the hell?)" He looked rather embarrassed as his sister walks around the elevated bed to retrieve an advanced tablet computer.. His. He reaches around his head to scratch, wanting to get decent, but being largely unable to for... Reasons.

Hibana taps and glides her fingers away at the tablet for a few seconds before flipping it around and presenting it to him. There was a message marked urgent. "(Magime sent this message four hours ago. What were you doing, Nori?)"

"(E-eh..)" the young man shrugs, pulling himself back up against the headboard. As he does so, what.. Or rather who he was doing is revealed. A young brunette woman appears out of the sheets. She immediately rushes to hide herself.

Hibana blinks. She looks at both of them and sighs. "(Stupid brother. Get yourself ready. We have work to do.)"



It takes Nori several minutes to get ready. He appears in the living room shortly after the now dressed woman rushes out of the unit. Hibana watches her out of the corner of her eye until she closes the door behind her.

"(Ready?)" she directs her words at her brother with a glum tone.

"(Yes.)" he replies, adjusting his belt. "(Let's go.)"

The two then head up to the roof of the building, which is for the most part restricted to tenants. Waiting there for them is their gear in an inconspicuous box. Immediately, Hibana's wingsuit is activated, and it takes to the sky as the young lady puts her armor on.

"(So what's the problem?)" Nori asks her as he dons his red horned mask.

Hibana pauses, throwing him a look of disbelief and disappointment. "(So you didn't read Magime's message at all?.. Ugh.. The Federal Reserve is currently under attack, and she has tasked us with ensuring that nothing is stolen.)"

Nori shrugs. "(Should be easy enough.)"

"(You would think that. But those pesky 'heroes' and the police are on scene. We will have to work quietly.)"

Quietly? Nori inwardly scoffs at the idea of working quietly. But since the parameters had been set, there was naught to do but comply. Though he wasn't feeling it at the moment, having had his fun cut short, he tried his best to look excited for Hibana. He knew she loved the work. While thinking, he didn't realise that he'd been staring at her. Hibana tilted her head and waved her hand in front of his face.

"(Did you hear what I said? Quietly.)" she reiterated. Nori nodded. Normally she would laugh and say something like "(You've gone to space again)" or "(Only horses sleep while standing!)" But the times when she did were long gone. Now she had this perpetually blank look on her face, and there was almost no tone to her voice. Nori sighed to himself. One day... Hibana...



Ready for the day ahead, Norihiko and Hibana traverse the New York skyline towards the Federal Reserve. Hibana is on the wing, and Nori makes great leaps from rooftop to rooftop. Sometimes Hibana has to catch and toss him over to the next. Soon, they are atop a building that overlooks the scene. Just as they expect, everybody who needs to be there is. And they arrived just in time to see the entrance to the structure explode, sending bits of ice everywhere.

"(Ice?)" Nori mutters to himself, seemingly in disbelief at what he just saw. He looks to his sister for confirmation, and she nods.

"(We may be dealing with a metahuman. Perhaps several.)" she says, sounding grim. But Nori can tell she's excited about that.

He steps back from the edge and stretches. "(Well.. Looks like this isn't going to be as boring as I thought!)" he says with mock jubilation.

"(Fortunately.)" Hibana says in agreement. Then, with more urgency, "(Come. Let's get in closer and find out who we are dealing with.)" Without a word, she lifts herself to a handstand on a ledge and tumbles off the building. As she falls, her wings catch air and she glides around to the back of the building.

"(Haha! Alright then!)" laughs Nori as he finds another way down. He can't fly, after all. He has to jump to a slightly shorter building and jump the gap before sliding down to the ground. His sister meets him there. Without a word, she moves towards one of the frozen windows and touches the surface.

"(Incredible.)" the young android mutters as her brother comes up behind her, gently nudging her aside.

He holds up his naginata, whose blade glows red on cue. "(What are we waiting for?)" Hibana only nods, and Nori briskly drives the blade through glass and ice, carving a round hole into it. It's just big enough to allow both to enter, and they slide in quietly.

Now... Nori lands quietly on the floor after his sister. Let's have some fun.


*"(Dialogue written this way)" means they are speaking in Japanese or in another language"
Last edited by Kylantha on Wed May 13, 2020 5:23 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Segral
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1595
Founded: Sep 06, 2017
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Segral » Wed May 13, 2020 11:54 am

Miguel Castro
New York City, New York, U.S.A

Underground fight clubs were never glamorous events, unless your definition of "glamorous" was a dusty gladiator's ring located in the basement of some warehouse in a forgotten corner of New York City, of which there were many. Yet, they always held such a romantic beauty to Miguel. There was something so poetic about dozens of people at the end of their strings, hanging on to life by literal threads, gathering to watch others be beaten to bloody pulps in the hopes that the carnage will inspire some positivity in their sorry lives, maybe a little glimmer of satisfaction as they watch someone have a worse day than themselves, a soft feeling of "Wow, good thing that it wasn't me getting my face torn open!".

To be perfectly honest, Miguel found these clubs to be absolutely detestable. To be the harbinger of violence was one thing, to gain petty enjoyment from watching others succumb to violence was another sin entirely. If he could, he would spit on the graves of every attendee, their parents, their grandparents, and their children. But, while his will desired one thing, his poverty desired another thing, and that was to put up with the shame in search of safety and financial stability, as much as one could have considering his status as a wanted criminal. The owner of the arena, a man known to his patrons as "The Ringmaster" but known to Miguel as "Jay", had agreed to house Miguel to repay the many favors he owed, in exchange for Miguel's occasional participation in his underground fighting ring. After all, nothing drove people's morbid curiosity like the prospect of a seven-foot armadillo man tearing a cocky novice to shreds. Killing was usually not his priority, and rarely did he need to perform such a heinous action. Especially today.

The arena was built in a simple design, an oval-shaped disk with two small portcullis-like structures one either end, where the fighters came out. Ringing the disk were rows and rows of bleachers, with roughly a hundred or so people eagerly watching, barely a cheer coming out. Good turnout. Noise was not permitted here; they couldn't risk some passerby hearing the commotion. People had an annoying need to poke their noses where it didn't belong, and it was never a benefit to an institution such as this one. There was no need for a flashy introduction; everybody knew what they had paid to see. Shade vs. Armadillo, two metahumans against one another. The master of shadows and darkness versus the blind armadillo man. To the casual viewer, it seemed as if Miguel was destined to be handily defeated.

On one side, Shade walked out, a well-muscled man dressed simply in a black t-shirt and these so-called "athletic" jeans that had become his signature style. Apparently, they were flexible and tailored for physical activity, or so he said. His movements were indeed quick, so perhaps there was some truth to his words. On the other side, Miguel walked out, forgoing clothes due to his unfortunate physique. The questions about his mammalian genitalia never ceased, but he was content the way he was. People were not so quick to laugh when their face had been smashed in.

The two figures met in the center, a white outline traced in the vague middle of the oval; Miguel couldn't see the ring, but he could smell the white paint on it, and he could smell Slade, a musky, hyper-masculine scent of cheap deodorant and sweat. There was no handshake, or referee instructing the participants to play a clean, fair game. There was no fairness here. If life had been fair, neither of the participants, nor the hundred audience members would even be there. The rule was simple; you fought until you were unconscious or dead, whichever came first. Cheating, dirty tactics, ultra-violent strikes, everything was permitted, even if some of it was frowned upon, and it would all be kicked off when the brass bell on the right wall rang.

Any moment now...

Any moment now...

DING!

Almost immediately, Miguel pushed off hard with his short tail and charged forward with a growl, having dropped down to all fours in preparation for the kickoff. He had hoped that the quick reaction, combined with the extra thrust created by slamming his tail into the ground would've caught Shade off guard and made this fight (and his paycheck) quick, but it had clearly failed, as he felt no fleshy body slamming into his head or shoulder, and instead felt a fleshy body slamming into his...back? Suddenly, a vicious pressure wrapped itself around his neck, constricting him and yanking him aggressively into a precarious teeter on his hind legs. He roared in surprise, his own cries aggressively loud to his sensitive ears. It only took him a few seconds to figure out what had happened among the chaos and noise. The bastard must have the ability to hide in or swim through shadows, and he must've taken cover in Miguel's. He had been ambushed from behind. Gurgling and bucking, he reached up with his claws and felt the bind around his neck, running his claws through the spaces and links. It was a chain, he could tell by the loops, but the texture didn't feel like metal, it was oddly...smooth, polished. Perhaps this Shade could create constructs out of shadows. It was no bother, Miguel would have him polished soon enough.

With a grunt, he leaned back as far as his own equilibrium would allow, causing the chain to slacken slightly. Before Shade could readjust the bind around his opponent's neck, he felt himself being flipped forward aggressively, the armadillo-man having dropped down to all fours without the resistance around his neck and subsequently launching the man off of his neck and into a swan-dive towards the hard dirt of the arena. The powerful move sparked a wave of murmurs and whispers among the audience, murmurs which doubled in intensity when Miguel picked up on Shade's scent and charged forward a second time, looming towards him with a ready fist. The man quickly rolled away as the fist crashed into the earth, sending a shockwave that nearly caused him to trip over himself. Miguel took advantage of the stumble, twisting around to the right and sweeping what felt like the man's legs from underneath him with his tail. It could have been his torso, it could've been his head, he didn't care. He allowed himself to smile slightly, turning around as he prepared to smite the man. The battle was his.

Or so he thought.

Suddenly, an aggressive force slammed into his chest, a battering ram driving into the armored plates. He attempted to grab the huge weight, only to draw his hands back with a howl as they were cut open by something...sharp. He could already smell the blood. Whatever was slamming into his chest had barbs all over it, so it seemed as if there was nothing to do but let the weight carry him back and tip him over. The possibility of rolling backwards to get back to his feet was quickly dashed as he felt his shell slam into the wall, the momentum bouncing him back down onto the ground face-first. He felt clunky, slow, stupid, felt so many unwanted side products of his blindness coursing in all at once. He felt...embarrassed, ashamed of his performance. He had been given such gifts, and he was losing to this simple-minded fool, a man who relied on cheap trickery to win a fight? This wouldn't do, this wouldn't do at all.

Groaning, he used his arms to push hard off the ground, propping him back up into an upright position as he cast his ears out for any sound. He heard what sounded like several audience members gasping and cursing, their slight whispers a loud roar of white noise in his ears. He also heard a noise, what sounded like cracking and shattering. The lights. He was killing the lights so that he would be in his natural territory. The shards were raining down harmlessly on his back right now, but Jay would rage over this later, this was the third time this week that the lights had gone. But he had no time to think of such trifling matters. His opponent, the almighty Shade, would be charging soon, going on the offensive. His powers were mighty, but behind those powers, he was an average man, and he would give a telltale clue, a sign as to where he was. He had no idea what that sign would be, but it came to him much quicker than he imagined, a hard footstep on his right.

He quickly lifted his right arm up, the armored scales catching on a long, sharp weapon. A sword, perhaps? Either way, it wouldn't be useful. He shoved his arm forward, practically flicking away Shade. It worked, he could hear the aggressive thump on the ground, complimented by a loud grunt. Now, for his latest trick. He quickly retracted his head and limbs, folding them into his shell to form a round ball. His tail pushed hard against the ground, aided by a slight tap from his hindlegs, and the force got him (quite literally) rolling, teetering slightly at some points but staying directly on course. He knew the blind expedition was a success when a fleshy body crashed against the shell, the impact so tough that it caused him to wobble to the right, curving and hitting the wall headfirst. He popped out, using the momentum to topple sideways and practically cartwheel, landing on his feet and facing the direction that Shade had been thrown. There were two options Shade could take, a predictable and a not-so-predictable one, and Miguel was prepared for both.

He felt a familiar slam on his shell, a pair of legs hitting his back indicating that his opponent had chosen the predictable option. How unfortunate. He reached up behind his back, grabbing what felt like a head between his palms and narrowly avoiding cutting his face open with his claws. He threw the body down, flipping Shade over his head and slamming him back-first onto the ground. Due to the absence of light in the room, the audience couldn't see much, but they knew what that thump meant, and it elicited a collective groan from the bleachers. Though, it wouldn't be the last time they groaned. After all, there was no knowing if Shade had been fully knocked unconscious, and he couldn't afford to find out if he had failed.

Still clinging to the man's head, Miguel flipped his struggling form over his shoulder made a massive jump, clinging tightly to avoid any chance of escape. It only took a second or two to reach the apex of his leap, and the moment he did, he whipped Shade at maximum speed towards the ground, careful to throw him on his ass as opposed to destroying his skull or neck. Careful or not, the impact was massive, a dust cloud reaching Miguel as he touched down on the ground with a heavy crunch. The audience was coughing, cursing, a few whispers of "Is he dead?" circulating around the room. And a hiss. The floodlights that were used when the ceiling lights didn't work or were broken were activating, casting a glow that was completely invisible to Miguel. This was a good sign, though. If Shade didn't show any signs of movement after ten seconds, he was presumed unconscious or dead, and the victory was his. All he had to do was wait. He could practically hear the audience beginning to count, faces lit up like vultures seeing prey.

"1..." they whispered, hoping not to be disappointed by a false alarm.

"2..." they hissed, the excitement continuing to build up.

"3..." they practically screamed, the finishing glimmer on a new, exciting trilogy.

"4..." they said quieter, their enthusiasm dampening. Perhaps their eyes had tricked them into seeing a stir?

"5..." they shrieked, the agony becoming too much for Miguel to bear as he bowed his head, grinding his teeth.

"6..." they said almost silently, the doubters and skeptics convinced that the knockout was real.

"7..." they giggled, the possibility growing ever brighter.

"8..." they said, the front-row viewers standing up and the back-row viewers beginning to crane their necks.

"9..." they shouted, their doubt almost completely erased.

"10"

DING!
yea bro idk

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Central Crew
Secretary
 
Posts: 30
Founded: Apr 21, 2020
Ex-Nation

Postby Central Crew » Wed May 13, 2020 6:28 pm

Matthew Octave

Interesting…

He sure was fast. Both the police and robbers were astounded to see that in a span of a few seconds, the two metas that were the most dangerous elements of the criminal force had been swiftly dealt with. John turned to him with a look of ‘what are ya waiting for?’, unaware that he had just cast thunder on the two metas that were launched on the wall. If they weren’t KO’d before, they definitely were now.

The three remaining humans quickly regained their composure from the surprise attack and were ready to attack the new offender. One of the humans picked up a bat and swiped at John while he was turned around.

“John duck!”

John looked a little bit surprised, but ducked nonetheless. It would have probably been better if he hadn’t called out to him, as he would have probably avoided the attack on his own. Now a confused John delivered a strike to the human that tried to attack him. John turned to him to question him but the two other humans raised their weapons against him.

“Thunder”

Lines of energy appeared from thin air, and surrounded the body of one of the humans.All in the blink of an eye, one criminal fell to the ground from the attack. The one who remained raised his weapon, but was quickly surrounded by police officers. Recognizing the hopeless situation, the last criminal surrendered.

“Those were some nice moves there John” Matthew came over to him, ignoring the incredulous and somewhat wary gaze of his as John asked.“How did you-”

But before he could finish his question a police officer approached them. The rest of the crooks had been taken under arrest, and the officer approached to thank them. However once he saw John returning completely to his human form from an animal one he stopped.

“Wait a minute… aren’t you the rogue meta we’ve been seeking?”

The police moved a hand to his pistol. John looked ready to make a run for it at any time now. Matthew moved between the two to defuse the situation, speaking fast so that no one else gets a chance to interfere.

“No I believe you are mistaken officer. This fellow right here is a TIAMA sponsored hero just as myself.” He put his arm around John’s shoulder. The officer looked confused, but not nearly as much as John did.

“I see that you have your doubts, but don't worry. See that man over there?” He pointed at the street were he had came from. There stood a man talking in his phone. The man noticed Matthew waving at him, and his expression turned sour. The man approached and started talked with the police. Matthew noticed a particular car approaching them. It was the car that always carried him back to the TIAMA offices to give Matthew a talk(scolding). Apparently they had kept the car close this time. How lucky.

“Well our ride has come for us.” He dragged John along. “Ain’t that right Zookeeper?”

“W-wait actually… I think I like Beas-” John started but was quickly shut down by Matthew.

Matthew whispered to John. “Listen John, if you want to make it out of this mess safely, then go along with me for now okay? Oh and try not to say anything until we talk to the TIAMA boys first. Don’t want to cause a bigger ruckus before we get there.”

He basically dragged John to the car, although he had regained most of his composure. “Oh and John.” He turned right before the entrance of the car. “Congratulations! It appears that you are no longer unemployed. How lucky

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Jerno
Envoy
 
Posts: 299
Founded: Jul 06, 2018
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Jerno » Thu May 14, 2020 2:46 pm

John Farrow, AKA “Zookeeper”
New York, New York, USA

John probably could’ve handled the guy in the bat. But no the guy with the top hat had to call him out. He had almost gotten whacked. His abilities were quite interesting.

He had seen them, if only for a brief moment, thunder fly to the metas. Interesting, John thought. John smiled, at the fact that Michael had congratulated him. He kept a wary gaze at the guy with the top hat. He wasn’t sure if he should leave or stay. He then proceeded to turn into his human self. The police officers didn’t take to kindly to that, which made John ready to beat it out of there....that is until the guy spoke up. It left John utterly confused. what the...TIAMA?!?!?? Of course John had heard of it. The superhero association or something like that. In fact he had always wanted to be a superhero.

He was confused and a bit excited. Mainly confused, he kept his focus on Matthew as he followed his gaze and saw a man on the phone. He hadn’t noticed them before, as he had been busy taking care of the criminals. He also noticed a car. He also hadn’t seen that before.

Suddenly he was dragged along with the guy, What the....??!??!? Zookeeper?!?! “W-wait I actually.... I think I like Beast-” he wasn’t able to finish as his opinion was deliberately shot down.

It was then that the guy with the top hat whispered to him. He reluctantly agreed with the guy. “Alright, sure thing” replied John. “Wait though how do you know my name?” He quickly shook himself free from Matthews grip and proceeded to get into the car with a interesting stranger. Well, his brain reminded him, there’s not much to lose, now is there? “wait how did you also know I’m unemployed?”, “Well in any case I’m John, sorry for being kinda stalkerish, but a guy with a top hat kinda stood out.” He felt that from now on his life would subsequently change for the better.

With that the car proceeded to leave the scene, and go wherever it was the car was going.

User avatar
Aserais
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 143
Founded: Apr 12, 2020
Democratic Socialists

Postby Aserais » Fri May 15, 2020 3:11 am

Skye Cross, AKA Synapse. New York City, New York.

One of the best things about being a TIAMA-sponsored hero was that Skye Cross could afford a small, one bedroom, one bath apartment in Manhattan while still being a college student--something that all but their richest classmates couldn't boast. It was small, cramped, and they were pretty sure that the previous tenant had survived on nothing but cigarettes and cheap booze, but it was theirs and they were damn proud of it. And best of all, the landlord allowed pets, which had been a deal-maker for them.

They were sitting at their table, a small thing they had picked up at a thrift shop, with their feet kicked up and working on their fifth supreme pizza of the day. Technically, they could satisfy their caloric needs with the nutrient bars that their cousin's company had cooked up for them, but even when they were packed with sugar and chocolate eating one of those bars was like trying to choke down a dense, soft, vaguely-chocolate flavored brick.

The large mutt that they had adopted caught their attention with a whine, looking up at them with the most pitiful expression that he could manage and occasionally looking at the pizza in their hand.

"What, you want this?" they asked with one raised brow, only to get a desperate whine and a tippy-tap of the mutt's paws against the linoleum. They grinned before they handed what was left of the piece to the dog, which took it in his jaws and quickly retreated, only to begin chewing furiously on the greasy goodness. Skye rolled their eyes but smiled as they took another piece and began chowing down, finishing the slice off in only a few bites.

The news was playing in the background on the small flat-screen in the living room, as it nearly always was, and it was from that they first heard the situation that was going on at the Federal Reserve. Skye's eyes went wide mid-bite as they turned to look, seeing the line of police cars and the news footage talking about the layer of ice that had covered the entrance to the reserve. The speedster tossed their pizza in the box and closed it, taking just a second to activate their powers.

Their eyes glowed a bright yellow as they got up, moving at, what for them, was a brisk walk as they moved in a blur to their room, grabbing the suit out of the closet and slipping it on. The last thing that they did was flip down the visor, causing the indicator lights along their suit to light up as it sensed the extra-dimensional energy coursing through their body.

They blurred out of their apartment, taking a fraction of a second to lock their door behind them, before they tore down the stairs and ran through the streets at a few hundred miles per hour. Their wake lifted cars momentarily on two wheels as they passed the vehicles, and it only took them about thirty seconds to arrive at the scene.

Skye disengaged her powers, causing the lights on her suit to power down, before they walked up to one of the cops and pulled out their identification. They got a wary look, and the cop’s hand went to the gun on his hip, before he took the papers and gave them a critical look.

“Synapse, huh? You new?” he asked, warranting a smile and a laugh from the speedster.

“Yeah, man. What’s the situation here?” they asked, turning their eyes towards the Federal Reserve building.

“Well, the ice has been dealt with, and your TIAMA friends are heading in now,” he informed them, gaining a frown from Skye as they processed that information. Of course, they could just run inside and reconnoiter the situation, but they had learned enough in their short stint as a hero to know that was probably a bad idea.

"Can I get through? I know I'm late, but they could probably use me," they explained, getting an annoyed roll of the eyes and a wave through for their trouble. Hopefully, they weren't too late to help.
Last edited by Aserais on Fri May 15, 2020 3:36 am, edited 3 times in total.

User avatar
Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16874
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Anowa » Sun May 17, 2020 11:47 pm

The following is a joint post between Anowa, Endem, Demencia, Dyelli Beybi, Granis, Acerais and Kylantha


Despite the large amount of ice barricading the bank's entryways, the inside of the reserve wasn't all that cold. A total of 14 people sat in the main lobby, hands bound by a thick, purple ichor, wrapped around them by a bone coated monster that had since departed into the bank's depths. The three security guards present during the initial entry by the thieves were either incapacitated or... maybe dead.

One lay on the floor, sweating profusely and groaning in pain, outside of this, he made no signs of movement besides breathing. A thick, bony needle was jammed into his thigh, fired from the arm of the monster like a biological gun. Another's eyes had swollen shut as he too had that purple ichor around his hand, a barrage of pepper-balls had impacted the man's head and neck on entry, leaving him leaking from every orifice on his face. The last, simply stood locked in time, hand having just barely pulled his pistol free before what seemed to be a magician froze him on the spot, a feint violet sheen coated the man now.

The only robber left in the lobby was a grim looking man in every sense of the word. One of his eyes had been rendered down to a hollow and grown over socket, the other eye had no lids. One of his cheeks and a portion of his lips were missing, baring his teeth for all to see. The rest of him was burn scars, wiping away whatever pigment had been there before. He stood with an AR-15, the upper receiver a bright cyan instead of the expected black.

Elswhere, a CCTV watched as a previously frozen over window was cut open.

Suddenly, the front barricade of ice burst open in a bang, the grim looking man flinched, and immediately started firing at the front entryway, backing up towards the door that eventually lead to the stairs. A total of 15 rounds were fired before the man retreated to the door and ducked through it. Yelling echoing from behind it quick enough.

Now, the main lobby was silent, leaving a special hostage with his thoughts, and 13 others.


If he was being honest, Wayland was beginning to get kind of bored. He knew why it had taken this long to reach him, of course, and he was honestly glad that whoever was in charge of the heroes here were willing to put in the time to make the rescue mission successful, but it didn't change the fact that it was still an hour of doing nothing. He couldn't even retreat into himself because he needed to be ready for the heroes to show up.

All of a sudden, the ice wall his 'captors' had been using as a barricade was blasted away, causing his oh-so-pleasant-to-look-at captor to fire blindly at it before retreating. While he resisted the urge to roll his eyes at that, he was at least glad he wouldn't have to look at the man. He'd seen far worse during his travels, true, but that didn't make constantly seeing the burns through the corner of his eye any less unpleasant...

Instead of wasting time dwelling on that, however, he turned his attention to where the barricade had previously stood. Perhaps he'd be able to get a glimpse of his rescuers before they entered properly, and he could get a decent idea of what to expect...


Chris reacted nearly immediately to the gun going off, his superhuman reflexes undoubtedly saving him, ducking to the ground he shouted "everyone duck!", unfortunately not everyone had his reflex powers and two policemen were struck, one in the shoulder and one in the knee, at least this is how many he saw, there could have been more injured, the gun then fell silent and Chris got up.

"Kaleidoscope, Synapse, follow me" he shouted to the newly arrived TIAMA heroes, the only one's so far on the site, Chris rushed inside the building taking out his two SiG's, already loaded and set, the safety removed. Chris entered the building, looking around the corners of the door with his two pistols in hand, no enemy was in the lobby, then he noticed the security guards, and the hostages.

The three guards were clearly incapacitated, killed, else?! by superpowers, different ones at that, one of the guards a bone needle sticking in his thigh, the other one was leaking from pretty much everywhere on his face, this one was probably dead, and the third one was frozen in time, then the 14 hostages, bound by something purple-ish, Chris would have tried cutting it with his knife, if he had more backup in the building, and then there was the door that lead to the rest of the federal reserve, Chris decided to get into cover if anybody decided to shoot from the door.


Kaliedoscope took her sweet time getting the building, though it quickly became apparent why - she had been wheedling with the police to get one of their radios which she now had clipped to her chest. She took a quick look around, dropping down behind a pillar, "There's no sign of anyone shooting in this room though there are a lot of hostages and several casualties. You guys might want to look at getting them out of here so we can move deeper into the building. Over."


One of the perks of being half-bird was that roadblocks never stopped Zinnia. She landed directly in front of the bank, causing some of the police officers on security detail to raise their guns out of instinct before they saw her easily recognizable form and went on about their business. "A bank job, really? I hope they called me here for something other than going inside..." she muttered to herself before walking through the door. Immediately she got the sense of why she was summoned.

"Oh, hostages. I see. That makes more sense. I don't exactly do well underground." she commented, approaching the group of heroes from behind. "Which one's the most injured? NewYork Presbyterian is the closest hospital, I can get them there in under five minutes." She got a closer look at how the hostages were bound and her face scrunched up. "Oh what the fuck? I hope someone else is cutting that, I'm not cleaning that off of my feathers."


As soon as they heard the first gunshot, Skye activated their powers and raced towards the sound. The sound of a sonic boom sent the officers ducking for cover, but by that point the speedster was already standing in the doorway of the Federal Reserve, staring down what was, for them, thirteen slowly rotating bullets that were currently heading for members of the NYPD. Two of the officers had already been hit in the time it had taken them to get to the scene, causing them to scowl.

Well, at least they were there now.

Synapse’s hands shot out, pressing a finger on each of the bullets to push it out of the way of its intended target and direct it towards a surface that the round wouldn’t bounce off of. They went over to the two officers that had been hit, who were still mid-fall, and braced the back of one of their heads before they raced the officer over to the line of their brothers-in-arms. They came back and did the same thing for the other officer, coming to a rest and laying the man down just as the bullets impacted various walls and pillars.

“Sorry I was late,” they said softly to the officer just as another officer called for an EMT, giving the cop an apologetic smile.

They stayed just long enough to make sure that the EMT was attending to the two in question before they raced back over to the entrance of the Fed, just in time to hear the lead hero order them to accompany him.

“You got it, boss,” they said, their eyes narrowed as they followed him into the building. Their hand went up to their mouth in shock as they fought down a wave of nausea upon seeing the guards.

“Oh god, that’s horrible,” they muttered, quickly kneeling down next to the one who was leaking and checking his pulse to make sure that he was, indeed, still alive. “Who would do this? This is just senseless…”


Meanwhile in the back of the building, Hibana holds her arm out in front of Nori as the sound of gunfire reaches them.

"Tch..." the taller cyborg rolls his eyes. He really wasn't into this overly cautious approach.

Hibana then lowers her arm. "(They're not coming this way.. Whoever they are..) Let's move." The winged girl moves ahead in a crouched position, her feet making no sound. Nori followed, holding his naginata straight across his shoulders. He slowly pivots his head around the room they were in. It was like a lounge in appearance.

"(Something smells off.)" Hibana states in a low voice. She glances over her shoulder and Nori nods to confirm. He noticed it, too.

Soon, they make it to the lobby. The two exchange glances, conversing silently as they plot a different path to the vault. Nori doesn't like that, either.. But he wasn't sure he could protect Hibana from so many of these.. Pests.

"(Wait here.)" Hibana then says, breaking his train of thought. He nods in reply as she slinks out of cover, pressing her back against another wall.

In Nori's head, This hallway should take us closer to the vault. Come. And he swiftly follows. Nobody has seen them yet, which suits them. But they're already preparing for when someone does, and it leads to a confrontation.

Once they are together, the Ryoga cyborgs head down the hall with Nori reconstructing in his head the frenetic movements of the mangled gun wielding thug that passed through here.


Despite the frantic sitrep from Washington, Osteo calmly continued grabbing gold bullion stamped with the certification that they belonged to the United States. So far, he and his team had cleaned house, Chrono had shunted most of the US labeled gold into their dead drop up in New Hampshire. All that remained was maybe a few hundred pounds remaining.

"Washington, did you recognize any of them?"

The man spoke slightly slurred, due to his deformity, "No. Didn't get a good look."

"Chrono, get everyone out of here."

The woman spoke up, "Cameras picked up two people at an alternative entrance, those in the lobby are basics and what looks like a new hire."

Osteo sighed, absorbing one last ingot into his form. From what he could garner from the small radio he managed to cop out of a cruiser three weeks ago, their plans had largely fallen one by one. Their escape to the river had been foiled by Epoch, the distraction at Indian Head was working, but not for long enough. The men they had paid to start a riot outside TIAMA's HQ didn't work. So that left few options, namely to have Chrono quantum tunnel a path out into the Ice Tunnel underneath the Hudson. "Plan F. Go, Now. I will delay the responders as possible."

The woman simply glowed a bright indigo, as what looked like a singularity opened in the air, revealing an icy tunnel deep into the water of the Hudson, "Good luck, Dad."

Osteo nodded, and watched his daughter, Washington, Psychonaut, Cyst, and Blank walk through, and it closed behind them. Leaving Osteo alone in the vault, picking up US Gold and converting it to a dust that stuck to his form, leaving him with a golden sheen after long.

The massive monster of a man began to sing the Union version of Dixie, audible even from the deep halls on the other side of the building. A somewhat polarizing song given the situation.


Wayland's eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, as he saw the heroes who had come to his aid. Here he thought he'd be teamed up with a new group of complete strangers once more, but it seemed this time the universe had decided to let him work with someone he at least somewhat recognized...

"Well well..." He said, the sophisticated english accent contrasting with his current appearance. "I was wondering who might show up, but I can honestly say you weren't quite what I was expecting. Either way, the rescue is appreciated."

He listened as one of them complained about possibly getting their wings dirty cutting the ooze that kept his hands bound, allowing himself a small smirk.

Icarus, he recalled after a moment.

"Well, I don't suppose one of you would be willing to cut us free anytime soon, would you? I know I for one would rather like to regain full mobility once more, and I'm sure my fellow prisoners would be inclined to agree, hmm?"

At this, he nodded in the direction of the other hostages, prompting them to speak any thoughts they might have on the matter.

"If it's any help, the burnt man who was tasked with guarding us retreated through that door the moment he finished firing. I've not heard much else from there after the initial yelling, so, while I won't suggest you let your guard down, I would like to put forward the possibility of you freeing us while you have the opportunity. Should you do so, I may even assist you in your task!"


Chris walked over to the one hostage who was speaking "sure" he said, then he swapped his SiG for his Ka-Bar knife and quickly cut through the meaty substance, noting it was similar to cutting chicken, after the hostages were freed he told them to get out of the building and then he spoke to the one who offered help "no, you may not assist in our task, we don't need bravados charging in and getting themselves killed because they thought they could do it, this is metas we're dealing with, get out of the building"

He then directed his attention towards the door again as he heard, singing from down the hallway that was presumably behind it, he then got before the door, waiting until the hostages would exit the building, he then exchanged his knife for his pistol again and ready to fire at anyone behind the door, he kicked it down.


"How about you let me take them back to the police cordon?" Kaleidoscope put in smoothly stepping in to intercede in the situation, "After all, it would be a terrible tragedy if someone from the police mistook any of our hostages for a fleeing robber."


Zinnia glanced at the hostage who was offering help. While honorable, it was definitely foolish and misguided. "Right... well I'm getting some of these people... especially him," she motioned to the injured guard, "to the hospital. If you feel like helping then join in, but I can only take one of you at a time"


Skye glanced over as the leader--and apparently most trigger-happy--of the group of heroes kicked down the door that lead further into the reserve with a scowl. He was gruff, and rude, and seemed to have an aversion to manners. They turned to the man who offered his help and gave a comforting smile, patting his arm reassuringly.

“Thanks for the offer, though. We appreciate it,” Synapse reassured him before moving over to the door, frowning when they heard someone singing a song that they vaguely recognized from an American History class in a deep baritone.

“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” they muttered as they rolled their neck, hearing several satisfying pops. “I’m gonna go reconnoiter, I’ll let you know what I see,” they said to Chris before the chevrons on their suit lit up yellow and they were off, leaving a streak of grey and glowing yellow behind them.

They streaked down the hallways towards the vault, not slowing down until they reached the door of the vault and paused, just long enough to get a good look at what the heroes would be dealing with. What Synapse saw was… well, it was downright horrifying. A monstrous visage of twisted golden metal, spikes and plates that looked almost organic, that was, to them, stuck in mid-grab of a bar of gold.

And that’s just more ominous they thought to themselves before they sped back to where they came from, coming to a stop beside Chris.

“We’ve got some kinda massive armored monster stealing all the gold. No idea why he’s singing dixie, though,” they said with a frown. “You got a plan?”


Ahead of the TIAMA operatives, the Nue and Tetsuhiko were just outside the vault. Nori didn't much care about the singing, though he noticed that Hibana seemed to have.. Some kind of reaction to it. She seemed mesmerized as they skulked through the halls, and Nori had to pull her to the side just as someone came zooming towards the vault and back.

Nori cursed under is breath. That was too close. "(Was that a--)"

"(Metahuman. Yes. Female. Suited. Very fast.)"

"(Hmph.. She's all yours.. If it comes to that..)"

Hibana only looks up at her brother and nods. She was best suited for such an encounter, being able to perceive extraordinarily fast movements.

"(Now, come on..)" she says, breaking out of her brother's grasp. "(Not much further now..)"

Rolling his eyes like usual, Nori casually follows. While walking he looks over his shoulder to ensure that no one is following them yet, and they continue into the vault.

Hibana sneaks in first, but she stops in her tracks. Nori does too as soon as he sees what she did. What the... Looking the hulking beast from head to toe, Nori immediately analysed what the stranger was made of and relayed it to Hibana.

Crouching near Hibana, Nori said to her through their comms, (I hate to say this, little sister.. But.. Let's be careful.)

"Huh. (Now you say that.)"


Osteo paused as the door upstairs was kicked down. Mid grab, he felt the room's air pressure changed for but an instant, not so much due to airflow, but due to a rapid introduction and removal of something.

Looking over his shoulder, he grabbed one last bar of gold before striding across the room towards the stairs. Beneath his feet, his 2 tons of weight started to crack the marble stairs as he strode up them. The ground was trembling with every step he took. Either ignorant, or ignoring the presence of the two assassins in proximity.

Looking up the stairs as he approached, he called out, "If you plan on apprehending me, we'll all be leaving disappointed."
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

User avatar
Central Crew
Secretary
 
Posts: 30
Founded: Apr 21, 2020
Ex-Nation

Postby Central Crew » Mon May 18, 2020 12:48 pm

Matthew Octave and John Farrow

“Well then. Allow me to introduce myself as well. I’m The Storyteller, also known by Matthew Octave from people all around the globe.” He was attempting to bow inside of the car while introducing himself, instead kicking the seat of the conductor. “And don’t worry John. I already know who you are.”

John was about to talk again, but Matthew cut him off. “Ah ah! First let me explain EVERYTHING in detail so you can understand the circumstances alright? Okay!” Matthew didn’t give John even a second to respond before continuing.

“See this book here. Well this is The Book of Wisdom, but you can just call it The Book. You see The Book has a rather interesting power, and that power allows me to know almost everything! That’s why it’s called The Book of Wisdom, because The Book’s so smart. Oh yeah it also…”

The conductor let out a sigh. The poor man was already familiarized with Matthew rather special personality, specially when he entered those ramblings of his. He said that he did it subconsciously, but he was probably looking to show off or tease John.

He looked back at the two men. John surprisingly looked to be paying attention to all of the rambling that came from the Top Hat wearing maniac. He talked without even a break to breath, as if getting his information across was more important that his own life.

“… And basically that summarizes why you are now in this precarious situation with me. But hey! The TIAMA boys are really nice. Play your carts right and you’ll get your everyday needs sustained by them. Oh and a nice apartment too! Just like me.”

John was about to talk when he was once more interrupted. “Oh and sorry if you don’t like the name I gave you. Sure, Beast Man might be a little bit more intimidating. Just a little bit. But just imagine. The Zookeeper and The Storyteller! We’ll be the best hero duo there could possibly exist! So I’m afraid that the Zookeeper stays.”

This time John was about to give him a piece of his mind, but he shut him down once again. This time however, he put a hand over his mouth, and the happy-go-lucky attitude ha had been displayed was nowhere to be seen.

He released the grip over his mouth while signaling him to keep silent. John complied, and Matthew opened his book. Furrowing his brow he read quietly and fast. John took a peak at the book that supposedly contained the sum of all human knowledge-no all knowledge- but all he saw were white pages. In his supper fast explanation, Matthew had remarked that unless The Book willed it so, only he could read it’s content.

Matthew’s whole serious aura vanished in an instant, being replaced with a smirk. He pocketed The Book and turned to him. “It appears that your luck keeps hasn’t run out yet. I just found ourselves our first assignment!”

John spoke the first word since introducing himself and apologizing for his stalker behaviour. “What?”

Matthew kicked the conductor’s seat. “Oi! Do you think that you can drive us to let’s say…. The Federal Reserve?”

The man’s somehow had a more confused expression on his face that John had. "What are you talking about?"

“Well that’s a shame. You’d been to slow anyway.” Matthew took John a hold on John and opened the car door. “Ready John? Then let’s go!”

“Seriously! What’s going on?!?!”

John screamed before turning to a pigeon and avoiding falling into the pavement, unlike Matthew. John watched as he stood up and dusted off his clothes as if nothing serious had just happened.

“What was that John! You were supposed to turn into a bigger bird and catch me!” Matthew said loudly but nonchalantly, something that didn’t do anything to disperse the crowd of onlookers that was being formed around them.

“Anyway you heard me. We need to get to the Federal Reserve as fast as possible.”

John returned to his human form, astounding the crowd even more. “What? Why?”

Matthew took a pocket watch and checked for the time. “I’ll fill you in on all of the details while we go there. But for now just know that our assistance is needed there.” He stored the watch and adjusted his top hat over his head. “So get on with it.”

Seeing that John was totally and utterly lost Matthew sighed. “Turn into a mount. The fastest one you can think and let’s head on to the reserve. If you go fast we might make it in time.”

Matthew would pay a lot to be able to read what was going trough John’s head at that moment. He apparently decided, because he just sighed and ran a hand trough his hair.

“Alright, but this is going to be the only time that I carry you like this alright?”

“Oh it most definitely will not! Now let’s go!”

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Jerno
Envoy
 
Posts: 299
Founded: Jul 06, 2018
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Jerno » Mon May 18, 2020 1:22 pm

John Farrow & Matthew Octave

As Matthew talked John listened. He was amazed by the book and extremely impressed that Matthew already knew who he was. The book was certainly interesting. He couldn’t see what it said. Probably only Matthew could only see what it read.

TIAMA. Hmm. That’s gonna be a fun place to be in.

He listened to the exchange of conversation between the driver and Matthew until he was abruptly thrown out of the car. He turned into a pigeon to avoid hitting the pavement to hard. “Sorry Matthew,” John laughed. “ There’s not exactly a bird to sustain a human being...well kinda.” “Ya know Matthew we could become a good duo, you’re the brains and I’m the muscle.”

Matthew talked some more and John complied. Which astounded the crowd even more. John shook himself. In Johns place stood a Griffin.

“Well Matthew Watcha waiting for?” With that Matthew proceeded to mount John the griffin. With a screeching cry John took to the skies. Matthew would then proceed to explain what was going on at the bank. It wasn’t long until John spotted the bank and at a high speed launched himself to the ground and landed with a thud.

“Alright Matthew, what’s the game plan?” John asked.

User avatar
Endem
Minister
 
Posts: 2975
Founded: Aug 19, 2018
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Endem » Mon May 18, 2020 4:18 pm

Chris Digel

“You got a plan?”


Hearing the loud footsteps and sound of cracked marble he realized something only truly massive was coming, he told Synapse one thing "run, get the police to bring in the military, and some anti-tank launchers, I'll try to stop it as long as I can" he then pushed Synapse gently towards the door before turning towards the rest of the hallway.

"Who said anything about apprehending, I plan on blowing your brains out!" He shouted back to the thing that was coming, knowing his reflexes will allow him to dodge most of the attacks, he leveled his guns and started slowly walking towards the sounds of cracking marble and loud footsteps.
Last edited by Endem on Mon May 18, 2020 4:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Nothing to see here

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Aserais
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 143
Founded: Apr 12, 2020
Democratic Socialists

Postby Aserais » Mon May 18, 2020 10:39 pm

Skye Cross, AKA Synapse

Skye frowned as Chris pushed them towards the door, glancing over at the hallway that they could hear the footsteps of something huge coming down. They didn't like the idea of leaving their fellow heroes to face whatever that was, but they knew that the other hero was right--they were probably gonna need some heavy firepower to overcome the armor on that baddie. Synapse's suit glowed for just a second before they were off, taking only a fraction of a second to arrive at the police cordon.

They found the guy in the tent that seemed to be in charge and stopped in front of him, causing everyone around them to jump in surprise and him to take a step back.

"Hey, buddy, you need to get the National Guard in on this. We've got a big one, and we're gonna need heavy firepower if we can't keep him contained," they said, waiting until they got a reluctant nod and the commander began talking into a radio. The next instant they were off, racing back into the Reserve and coming to a stop next to Chris for just a brief moment. He had his guns drawn and leveled into the hallway--an affection that they were pretty sure wouldn't have any effect--before they turned back to look down the hallway.

They raced down the hall until they came to the armored baddie, their eyes looking for any possible weakness. Not finding any immediately apparent, they decided that physics was something that most beings were vulnerable to, and pushing something with all their strength at Mach 2 or 3 tended to send that thing flying into whatever surface was behind it.

They backed up, getting a half dozen feet between themselves and the armored beast, before they raced forward and impacted him with both hands. Throughout the building and out in the street, a massive sonic boom sounded a couple seconds after they raced forward, and in that time the building shook and the lights flickered as the seven foot tall armored behemoth was sent flying down the hall. Two tons of bone and metal impacted the marble floor, cracking the stone and sending reverberations throughout the building.

"I dunno, man. Seems like we might be able to apprehend you easier than you think," Synapse snarked, a confident smirk on their lips. They were definitely putting this one on twitter when they were done.

"Now, hows 'bout you come quietly? It'll be a lot easier than the alternative," they promised, raising their fists into a practiced boxer's guard.
Last edited by Aserais on Tue May 19, 2020 12:41 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Kylantha
Minister
 
Posts: 2263
Founded: Jan 22, 2015
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Kylantha » Tue May 19, 2020 6:26 am


The Nightbird and The Iron Prince
鵺と鉄彦


The singing stopped, replaced by a voice which called up the stairs to them.

Nori winced. (Ah. So it knows we're here?)

(So it seems.)

The two cyborgs looked at each other from across the hall, listening for movements and plotting silently. One looked worried. The other appeared unbothered.

(What do we do from here? Are we even equipped for this?) Nori asked, taking a quick look at the pack he carried.

To his dismay, Hibana shook her head. (No. We did not anticipate this. However, we must proceed with our mission [i]somehow. Ensure that--[/i])

(Nothing is stolen, yes, yes. So?)

There is a short pause before Hibana starts transmitting her plan. Neither are to communicate with the armored giant. Their goal is to subdue him for the authorities to capture. Thanks to Nori's sight, they already knew that he had the gold on him. Somewhere. Unfortunately, before they could make their move, they are rudely interrupted. Behind them come threats, directed at the giant in front of them.

Nori scoffed. (Ah. Here they come. Is this bad?)

Hibana shakes her head in response. (We could let them tire that creature out. If that is even possible. Though there is no directive for us to stay hidden, I believe it would be best if we didn't make ourselves known to TIAMA.)

Just then, the one known as Synapse came flashing past. Hibana blinked as the wind brushed past her face, disturbing her bangs. (Hm.)

The sounds and dialogue that followed indicated that whoever the speedster was, they had engaged the giant. Nori rubbed at his ears to soothe the ringing in them. Hibana remained absolutely stoic. She looks over at him and jerks her head to the side. (Let's move in.) And so they do, just out of sight of both Synapse and Osteo. Normally, Nori would be more confrontational. But at the moment, he wasn't so sure he wanted to just jump in. For now he'd follow Hibana's lead.

As they enter the vault, Nori passes a pair of submachine guns and magazines to Hibana. They then spread out, watching as seemingly cocky speedster taunted the floored giant. (Big bro Nori.) Hibana stares from across the hall. She noticed her brother's tensed stance and the way he looked at the two.

(What? You think I'm gonna charge in?)

(Yes.)

(Well I wasn't!)

(You'd better not. For now, we observe.)

User avatar
Anowa
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 16874
Founded: Jul 29, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Anowa » Tue May 19, 2020 12:42 pm

Alexander Carmichael / Osteo
NYC Federal Reserve


About halfway up the stairs, a man had popped from around the corner after yelling to his compatriots. Two firearms raised. of course, they wouldn't do a damn thing the layer of iron reinforced bone lining his body. As Osteo prepared to brace for the impact of bullets, he instead got slammed in the chest by something much faster and much more massive.

Launched down the stairs, the initial strike caused something to snap inside his chest cavity. landing on the ground, it crumbled some more, as did the floor. A light fell from it's mount on the ceiling, shattering on the floor.

Osteo simply sighed and looked up at the speedster. "I didn't realize TIAMA was in the manner of killing over capturing. Breaking things always throws a wrench in everyone's plans." pieces of plastic and metal oozed out of his bone armor as if it was gel. As Osteo stood they clattered to the floor.

Osteo continued, "In case you weren't aware, that was a singular detonator. There are 5 more in my chest rigged to 5 other bombs scattered about the Boston-Washington Corridor. The sixth detonator, that you just shattered, was also rigged to one." a pause, "These bombs are designed to detonate from a signal by the detonators, or after 24 hours, 14 hours at this time. Whichever comes first, for all I know that impact just detonated number 6." he shrugged, "I'm not exactly a bomb maker, that was my daughter's idea."

"If you let me go, TIAMA's local HQ will receive a call from a payphone in 4 hours with a full list of their locations and how to properly disarm them. If you decide to take me in, I'll simply wait in lockup until they all detonate, and you'll never find the US' gold from this reserve."

The man paused "Or, if you feel like it, we could stay here, fight and I'll just detonate them now. Based on your actions so far, this seems like the preferred option."
Awards:
Tie Winner: Most Involved in P2TM, 2016
Winner: Best Crime RP, 2016

An Intro to Anowa

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