[OOC] Yeah, I freely admit my posting here has fallen a bit on the wayside. Blame college for taking up most of my time, and independent writing projects for taking up the rest. Also, I'm sure Netflix figures into that somehow. I am trying to see if I can't break back into this RPG; I'd say if anyone wants to interact with Hivemind to feel free, but best as I can tell, everyone is pretty firmly tied up in their own plots at the moment, so... yeah.
And in the interest of getting back into this, I think I'm probably going to retire Mystic from PC status (cause, to be honest, she was kind of boring and didn't do a lot), and start out a new (well, new in the sense they weren't a PC before) character:
Real Name: Miles Anderson
Alias: The Technician
Appearance: A youthful and energetic teen, with blonde hair and green eyes. Wears a bright green supersuit trimmed with white and gold patterns, a white labcoat with gold cuffs, and a green visor. Right hand covered by a small silver gauntlet.
Power: None, relies on his technological prowess. The Technician's arsenal at present consists of:
-- His visor, equipped with identification software linked with League and police databases, and a built-in comm system.
-- The Power Glove, a small, lightweight metal gauntlet worn on his right hand. Possesses a targeting sensor that allows him to remotely send commands to the Cricket and call it too him, along with what Miles insists upon referring to as his "near-death ray" - a small laser weapon that delivers unpleasant but typically nonlethal damage.
-- The Cricket, a small mechsuit, colored green, white, and gold, standing at aprox. 3.3 meters tall. Armaments consist of one variable-strength laser cannon mounted on the left arm, a bladed pincer-claw mounted on the right, and two missile pods containing four missiles each. Possesses flight capabilities thanks to a set of thrusters on the mechsuit's back and stabilizing thrusters in the legs, but its maneuverability in the air is limited due to the suit's bulkiness.
-- Goldbug, Miles' robotic assistant and companion. One of his earliest creations, it has the appearance of a mechanical beetle, covered in polished gold plating, about 25 cm. long. Houses a simple AI system that Miles has tinkered with over the years to the point it can successfully imitate conversation with few errors. Goldbug possesses flight capabilities and a small 'stinger' laser beam, but her primary tool is the set of sensory equipment mounted in his pincers, which help analyze a threat and provide Miles with tactical information. Attaches to compartment on the back of the Cricket for storage and to recharge her power cells.
Allegiance: League of Salvation
Area: New York City
Bio: Miles Anderson comes from a long line of scientists; he is in fact the ninth in his family to bear the mantle of The Technician. Unfortunately, the science practiced by The Technicians that came before him was strictly of the “mad” variety; a lineage of supervillains stretching back even before the word “supervillain” was thought up. Despite the wishes of his father that he continue with the family business, Miles secretly wished to put his mechanical knowledge to a more practical use. With the help of a superhero named Fade, Miles was persuaded to help bring his father to justice, and shortly thereafter decided his talents would be best applied in service of the League.
Miles had developed quite a few creations under his father's tutelage, but insisted they all be either destroyed or placed into storage, wishing instead to start over fresh. The only exception to this was his robotic companion Goldbug, who for most of his adolescent life was close to his only friend and companion. The scope of his creations has been smaller since doing so, due to the limits on what the League is willing to fund (and secretly, Miles suspects they are reluctant to allow an almost-supervillain to build something big enough to level a city block), but he has managed to put together a mech-suit he feels is sufficient towards the task of fighting evildoers. With the aid of the League, Miles hopes he can help to balance out the wrong the previous Technicians have caused. But with eight generations of evil looming over him, this task might be beyond even Miles' capabilities...
[IC: Miami, FL] Dislodging into a flurry of wasps, Hivemind poured through the slot in the teller's window, reforming herself together on the other side. Picking up the device from where the teller had dropped it, she slunk over to a nearby computer and plugged it into the USB slot. With a few taps on the keyboard a window popped up, displaying a series of progress bars slowly filling as they went through the banks servers.
A familar sound caught Hivemind's ear; the wail of police sirens drawing closer. Glancing out the window, she could see several police cars forming a perimeter outside the bank's entrance. Hivemind sighed. The cops themselves weren't likely to be trouble; unless someone got a swelled head and tried to play a hero, they would probably just hang back once they realized they were dealing with a metahuman. They simply just didn't get payed enough to deal with that sort of thing.
But they would inevitably run crying to the League once they saw how sorely outclassed they were, and that was when things were likely to go pear-shaped for the whole operation. Spotting the teller trying to crawl away, Hivemind buzzed over to him, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against a desk.
"Did you forget what I told you about silent alarms?" she asked in a low hiss. "Well, now we get to play a fun little game. I like to call it 'lets see how many cicadas can crawl into your ears before the noise drives you completely insane'..."
A sudden DING! broke Hivemind's train of thought; she dropped the man to the floor and glanced at the computer. All the progress bars were filled up with green, the transfer completed. Hivemind smiled, ripping the device from the computer and throwing it to the floor. It crumpled into broken plastic and crushed circuitry under her boot as she stepped over it, making her way towards the exit. She paused at the door, turning back towards the terrified teller struggling to pull himself off the floor.
"Looks like you're saved by the bell, old man," she said. "By the way, I hope you understand that whole cicada thing wasn't personal. I mean, if I let you off easy, what would the rest of the hostages think? So... no hard feelings, then? Cool."
Hivemind strode out of the bank, throwing the double doors open wide. She took a few steps towards the wall of cops standing in front of her, her swarm buzzing around her. Shotguns and pistols raised cautiously, just in case she got too close. Some suit with a bullhorn was shouting something about getting down on the ground with her hands over her head, but naturally Hivemind wasn't bothering to listen to him.
"Y'know, you guys... I'm not sure you appreciate just what an amazing world we live in," she said. A few of the police looked puzzled, unsure why the bank robber was suddenly trying to talk casual with them, but Hivemind paid them no mind. "I mean, just like five years ago, if I wanted to rob this bank, I'd have had to take it all out in bags with cartoon dollar signs on them. I'd have to carry that all out myself, which I don't know if you know, but that's hard to do as a giant cloud of insects."
Hivemind grinned, her swarm starting to buzz louder.
"But everything's online now; if I wanna steal some money, I can just do it digitally. Which, most relevant to you, means I'm unencumbered enough to do THIS!"
Hivemind burst forth into her swarm form, buzzing between cop cars. A few officers who lacked the common sense to take cover from the stinging insects opened fire; the shock from the gunshots stunned or killed the few bugs unfortunate enough to get in the crossfire, but it wasn't enough to stop Hivemind. The swarm buzzed past them, rising high up into the air and buzzing across the Miami skyline.