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IC: "Kristen, you know as well as I do that no-one stays dead around here," Alec pointed out, the metal plates of his mutated arms subtly shifting and clinking into something. "Even if we could get round the healing factor, which I'm pretty sure lets him come back even if there's only a single cell of him left, there's no guarantee he won't just pop right back again because of some mystical or pseudo-scientific malarking about. Just like..." He glanced at his palm, finally revealed to have morphed into something like a smartphone or tablet, with a touchscreen where his palm should be. He'd pulled up a wiki list of supers, heroes and villains alike, who had come back from the grave. "Well. Just like everyone by the looks of it. Huh, even Stilt-Man managed it. That's just sad..."

 

 

IC: "Keep the car steady," Bootleg said to Reptilian, "I'll go for their tyres. See how they run on bleedin' flats."

 

Making sure his handgun was loaded and ready, he leaned out the window and took careful aim...then pulled his head back in again as the truck whistled past in the opposite direction. A few more seconds and it would have swiftly, thought not neatly, decapitated him.

 

"Now thats just impolite no matter how you cut him," he joked, trying to squash the surge of adrenaline-spiked terror that comes with near death

 

 

IC: Magnitude's face went sour, "Buildings going down means higher security. Like kicking an ants nest. Every security agency will be all over buildings blowing up. We need to stay off the streets."

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IC: Scorcher

 

"Yeah, and it would be just like them to blame whatever happened on a few Brotherhood mutants going for a stroll." he frowned as he came down the ladder and closed the hatch.

 

"Well there's always the sewers."

 

IC: Mimic

 

Christine suddenly heard a loud crashing sound. She followed the noise and drew closer to the library. There she saw what looked like some sort of creature. The beast looked like a wolf from the back but had bat-like wings. It was currently smashing against a bookcase and trying to bash its way into the library. There must be students on the other side trying to keep it out. Christine thought as her dark emerald eyes narrowed.

 

Without a seconds hesitation she reached behind her and pulled out her hidden desert eagle; which had been placed against her rear held in place by the lip of her jeans. Gloved hands wrapped around the handle of the weapon as Christine leveled it at the back of the creature. Blam. Blam. She fired twice at its back.

 

OOC: Yes she is shooting at your character Cupcake.

Edited by Flex Cop
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IC: Mimic

 

It didn't seem like Christine's shots had done much other then anger the thing. However it did stop attacking the library and lifted into the air on its membrane wings. The thing flew erratically, but coming in Christine's general direction. She knew she was its target now. She aimed her gun at the creature and fired off six consecutive shots while it flew; aiming each time for its right wing as it flew towards her; even erriaticaly as it was flying she still followed the creature with her gun as best as she could and fired the shots. Once this was done she turned and grasped a nearby table that was resting against the wall.

 

The table was used by students to read books from the libary or use their laptops while not have to actually sit in the library. She flung the table to the floor where it landed on its side; providing a sort of shield for Christine against the creature. She quickly pulled the empty magazine out and slapped another clip in from her pocket before she then positioned herself behind the table and then grasped the bottom with one hand, turing it at an angle above her to cover her from above while she held her pistol in her other hand.

 

IC: Conrad

 

As Conrad drove he remembered a trasmission he'd recieved from Redskull earlier. Something about hunting down to targets. Escaped Hydra experiments. He pulled out his untraceable cellphone and dialed a number that could connect him with the head of Hydra. Conrad waited as it rang, hoping Redskull would answer. He could use another mission once this one was concluded.

 

While waiting on the phone he continued to follow behind Reptilian and Bootleg's vehicle. Watching as Bootleg almost got decapitated by a truck after sticking his head out the window.

Edited by Flex Cop
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IC:

The radio station changed for the 72nd time in half as many minutes. Pitbull was on for the twelfth time; Aleks Belikov sighed heavily and ran his left hand through his hair, placed his elbow against the cool glass of the driver's side window. Neither of them had spoken a word about anything beyond "You like this?" "Yeah. You like this more?" "Sure."

 

Someone's gotta say something sooner or later, Aleks told himself. C'mon.

 

No one said a word.

 

"So... thanks for coming with me."
"Yeah, don't mention it. Heroes and , man." The silence sat between them awkwardly, perched on an armrest.
"Yeah. Hopefully we're not too late to help some people."
"Doubt it. It's New York. They always need help."
"True. Its been like a year since I've actually been in the city. Seems like I only ever go when there's a crisis."
"Seems like that's the only time anyone goes. That, or your Yankees are approaching the World Series."
"Yeah but I hate baseball honestly. Always have been more of a football and soccer guy."
"Yeah, I know," said Aleks, brushing a finger against the volume knob and leaving it alone where it was. "We play together."
"Very true."
Christ. Awkward. Awkward. Awkward. Belikov wished someone was training a gun on him, or at least was committing a terrorist attack somewhere in the distance right that second. It would've been less stressful; it might've soothed his nerves, even.
"So. Talked to Christine."
.
"About what?" Matt asked as he shifted his brown eyes from the window and onto Aleks.
"Southern stuff. Biscuits. Some video she said she saw."
.
"She's always talking about Southern stuff. What video was it? Don't tell me it was the video."
"I didn't know there was a video."
"You know, from that one night. There were all those pictures so I turned it into a slideshow and made it into a video."
"...You made it into a video.[/i]" Aleksandr turned away so that he could disguise the deep breath of relief he took as he spoke.
"Well yeah. Its easier so you don't have to hit the next button to scroll through them all."
"I thought we decided they'd never be seen again."
"We did, but I've already seen it so I didn't think it would hurt anyone."
"Yeah. I suppose you're right," Aleks admitted, passing a couple church vans on the highway and slowing calmly. "So."
"Hm?"
"I don't know."
"How close do you think we are?"
"Wait, what? Err.., man, I don't know. You're a good friend. Good guy. Kind of putting me on the spot here."
"What? No I meant to the city. Wait what?"
"...Nothing, Christine said-- it. I mean...we're about an hour away." Aleksandr Belikov had never wanted to shoot himself so badly in his life.
-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: Mimic

 

Something hit the table hard. Christine's shots had hit their mark. As the creature slammed into the table it literally cracked in half from the impact. Shards of wood flew in Christine's face as she quickly rolled away from the broken table and the creature. Still low to the ground she aimed her gun at the creature. She could see holes in its wing where her bullets had gone through.

 

"Don't ****ing move. Now Ah don't know what you are and why you are smashing things in this school, but if you don't cool it and stop now Ah will end you."

Edited by Flex Cop
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IC:

 

"Director Fury. Miss McCoy from SWORD to see you."

 

Fury fought the effort to curse, and to light a smoke; he'd sworn off both a couple weeks ago, with differing degrees of success for both. "Send her in," he said, and the agent went off to follow his command.

 

IC:

 

"Do you know the name Joel Ridgemont?" the man who had been acquainting himself with John Howlett for eight pain-streaked days and nine sleepless nights. There was no lighting beyond the glint of a nondescript watch the man wore on his wrist, and John could not see the way his hair had greased and matted on his face, or the crooked angles his bones had taken. "The man behind this name was murdered many days ago, in Las Vegas. Do you know why?"

 

"Not the faintest."
Las Vegas. Maybe John did know. A lot of people died in Las Vegas. He didn't really like thinking about it, nor did he like playing this games.
"You abandoned us because you did not seek a life of death, without equal meaning," the man said, holding a knife up in the air; its sleek blade beamed a single spot of light into one cyan eye. "Yet you reveled in it under the X-Men's banner. Do you confess your hypocrisy?"
"The man I killed while part of the X-Men were nothing but cold blooded killers themselves. I was saving innocents by taking their lives. The Hand would have seen me murder an innocent kung fu instructor. It's not the same."
"This man Joel Ridgemont was an innocent," said the Hand's finger, tilting his head like a curious feline, confronted with an empty bowl of milk. "He took a stray bullet meant for you during your vehicular escape. You can regenerate your tissue; this man could not. He is dead now. Did you know he had a loving wife? Two children? A third on the way? His daughter is over a year old now, and she will never see her father. Only a hunk of rock, with his name and a date on it. As you said. These two things are not the same. If it were the life of a man never knew, would never know, against the life of your own father, or against the guarantee of life for your mother, would you let this man, who did you no wrong, perish If it was your best friend or your true love, would you place such a high value on life? Remember,. you can regenerate your tissue, drag yourself back from death. The people you protect cannot, and yet it seems that whenever the push comes to the shove, they are the ones with the bullets in their backs and skulls, while you escape to drink your fill of blood and beer for yet another day. Do you defend that, John Howlett?"
John Howlett took two seconds to think it over before he proudly answered, "I defend it." The finger sighed - not in disappointment, but not quite in any sort of excitement either - and advanced towards John. With every step, the knife shone brighter.
-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: Jennifer

 

"Director Fury, thank you for your time." Jennifer smiled at the man; her eyes shimmering slightly behind her glasses.

 

"I don't believe we've met. My name is Jennifer McCoy, but I have an idea you already know who I am."

 

IC: Feral

 

John watched as the man drew closer with the knife. His heart hammered in his chest. Was this true or just ? Were they just trying to get to him? "How many innocents would of died if I hadn't killed those assassins? How many more would they have killed?" he grunted.

 

"You can't save them all. I admit I was a bit out of control in Vegas... I didn't have to kill all of the assassins, I could of found other ways to stop them. But I wanted to kill them for what they did. And I enjoyed it. So do your worse to me, I regret nothing."

 

IC: Mimic

 

The creature didn't move. Christine breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't even sure if it could speak, let alone reason. "Stand down... stop attacking things. We can work through this."

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IC:

 

The man stopped with his knife a hair's breadth away from John Howlett's navel and looked back up at him with the same tilted head and the same curious expression. If he had words to give, he did not loose them, at least right away; when he did, there was an almost imperceptible change in his voice.

 

"You have balls, John Howlett," he said bluntly. "And you still have claws to you. You cannot, unfortunately, have both."

 

Despite himself John blanched, but the man did not grin or take any visible pleasure in the sight. Instead he yanked forward one of John's hands and slowly pressed the knife into the spaces between the dark young X-Man's knuckles. He did not stop until he hit bone.

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: Mimic

 

The creature seemed to be listening to her, that was good. "Okay listen to my voice okay? Ah'm trying to help you. If you let me touch you. If my bareskin touches you anywhere for long enough you will pass out. You don't have to hurt anyone okay? Let's just take a little nap and things will be better when you wake up. What do you say sugar?"

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OOC: The response from Trinity was passed along by Auron, since he can't post himself right now.

 

IC:

 

"What?" Trinity asked, tilting her head to the other side for a change of pace, "What's a lab? What's a scientist? What's a born? Whats a created? What's a scratch?"

 

The entire thing had obviously gone above the girl's head, as she zeroed in on the meanings of the new words.

 

"Well, dear, most people are created through... Biological methods. You were created artificially. It's a bit hard to explain." Tera paused, thinking a moment. "It's also not really a topic suited for this moment. You should talk to Mikhail about it, he can probably explain it better than I can."

 

IC:

 

"See you in a minute."

 

In truth, the delay between the end of the phone call and the technopath's arrival was probably a bit less than that. He appeared a few moment's later, dropping down over a barely intact wall, dusty coat shifting around his ankles. He crossed the remaining distance in a few efficient strides, but there was something... Off about it. His movements were too careful, too controlled. The effect was completed when he got close enough for his expression to be seen.

 

The best descriptor is a porcelain mask. Accurate, carefully made, and surprisingly effective; but still false, never changing even when a real one would. And like any mask, the calm never truly reached his eyes.

 

"C'mon, Julia. Let's go home."

 

IC:

 

"Well, Morrison, it sounds like things are under control." Alistair noted, listening to the sounds outside in the hallway. "But, if it makes you feel better..."

 

Rummaging in his pockets for a moment, the teen withdrew a small, battered box of matches and struck one on the side. "Knock yourself out. Try not to burn any books."

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC:

 

"Aww... But I wanna know!" Trinity exclaimed, flailing her arms about as she ran around Mikhail.

 

-

"Sorry I took so long!" Kristen exclaimed, catching up to Lynae. While she was still talking to Alec, once she was done with that conversation, she would run and catch up with Lynae.

 

"Have you been up to anything..?"

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IC: Aella

 

I blinked, moments ago we had been moving, and now we were standing next to some sort of building. It looked a lot different that the safe house, at least from the outside.

 

"Oh, we're here already?" I said...ending with an involuntarily yawn. I very tired, which wasn't too surprising considering everything I'd been through in the past few hours, plus the concussion.

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My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

Skyra | Hakari | Oceanna | Taleen | Arisaka | Zanakra | Kaminari | Drakkar

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