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IC: White Lightning

After having done the Danger Room, with getting mild damages, Jack decided to take a break and head to his room.

 

IC: Marauder

Marauder made it to the sight were the president was assassinated. He walked around the area, looking at the damage done. He then entered the building were he was killed. He looked around at the damage, then at the podium were he was. He went up to the podium and surveyed the entire area.

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IC:

 

Dallas turned to look sidelong at René; both teens shrugged at once and then followed Quinn into the cafeteria. Dallas hadn't eaten an actual meal aside from Taco Bell and snack cakes since he had arrived back into this dimension, and his stomach growled at the very thought of calories. He'd never had much body fat to sustain himself off of in case he started to starve, so it was probably best to nip it in the bud.

 

The chronokinetic popped open the cafeteria door lightly with his foot, René at his back, and walked into the line next to Quinn, looking for a burger he could put together or something.

 

"I'm starved," he whistled casually, surveying the food.

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

 

As the morning light began to shine through the window, Rebekah groaned quietly to herself. No... Not morning yet. Still too early.

 

With that thought, she pulled the covers over her head in an attempt to block the light.

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

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: "Hm, so am I," Quinn said. The last thing he ate was an overpriced bagel at the airport so something much more substantial was warranted for lunch. He spied some deli meat and quickly began to put a sandwich together with a bowl of creamy honey bisque on the side.

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IC:

 

Dallas went the more all-American route, taking a spatula and flipping a cheeseburger onto a plate: grabbing a grilled bun, he layered some ketchup and mayo on before sliding the cheeseburger into the bun and topping it off with some lettuce, tomato...hmm...why not some pickles, too? An order of fries completed the mix, and Dallas grabbed a regular Dr Pepper from the cooler, observed it, then replaced it with a cherry flavored version.

 

IC:

 

"Morning, sleepyhead," Brooklyn mumbled from underneath the covers with a yawn as she reached out and gently gave Rebekah's shoulders a squeeze, her eyes still closed to prevent any undue light from shining into her corneas.

 

-Tyler

Edited by Tyler Durden

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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Ic: As Dallas finished selecting his drink he turned and saw Quinn already sitting in a comfy armchair at a round mahogany table. Upon closer insection, Quinn could be observed curiously cutting the bread crusts off his sandwich and dropping them into the bisque like soup crackers. He waved for Dallas and René to join him in comfort and feast.

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IC:

 

Slowly, Rebekah heard a shuffling in her ears that signified the sound of covers moving; when she half-turned to see the root of the sound - which, to her still-mostly-asleep ears, was more of a commotion - she saw Brooklyn, eyes wide awake even though her face really wasn't yet, grinning in that stupid, cute way that people grin when they're on laughing gas and someone tells them a good joke.

 

"Good morning, Rebekah," she reiterated.

 

IC:

 

René was probably ordering a custom tray with mirrors so he could stare at himself while he ate, but Dallas sat down across from Quinn and popped open the drink while he idly dusted his fries with a small amount of salt and opened up some ketchup packets to dip on the side.

 

"Anyway...yeah. If you gotta know," Dallas said, keeping his voice low, "I actually am an X-Man. Always have been. Just not from...this version of the X-Men."

 

-Tyler

Edited by Tyler Durden

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: White Lightning

Jack woke up all tired and gritty. He grunted as he got up from his bed. "Why must I wake up like a jack######." He stretches himself, then go's out into the hallawy and into the restroom. He cleans himself up and go's back into his room to get dressed.

 

IC: Marauder

After surveying the area, he gets out of the building and go's out into the street. He rubs his eyes as the sun hit's him. Marauder has been up for two days straight, and he's currently feeling insomnia. "Maybe it's time if I go undercover, but first, I got to get a place to sleep."

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IC:

 

Dallas held a finger up as he chewed on his burger, relishing the taste and swallowing; he dabbed away at a stain of ketchup on his thin upper lip before looking back up at Quinn.

 

"I'm from an alternate dimension," he said, as though he were announcing his support for the New York Yankees.

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: Nathan

 

I more or less found myself in the cafeteria, everyone else seemed to be heading there, and I was kind of hungry. I reckoned I could have one of our doctors look at my broken wing later, since they were busy with two patients in far more critical condition than I...that was if we actually had any real doctors, with Ashlynn gone I wasn't quite sure who we had left.

 

Sitting at a table adjacent from where that alternate Dallas and the new kid were talking, my eyes fell upon Rene. When had he gotten here? I hadn't seen him since I left the Brotherhood. Ah well, I guess he found the Brotherhood as stupid as I did.

 

I took a bite of my grilled cheese. It was very melty.

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My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

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

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Ic: Lots of questions flooded into Quinn's mind that he could ask Dallas -- this was quite an interesting subject, anyway. Instead, he just asked one as he cut the sandwich diagonally; the crisp lettuce crunched as the leaves were unceremoniously dissected. "So how did you get here?"

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IC:

 

"It's really complicated. It involves telepaths, technopaths, lightning, a machine that amplifies telepath's power... Stuff like that," A female speaker said from behind Dallas. If he would turn, he would see the dark-haired girl that Christopher was stuck as. She had decided suddenly to sneak away from the med bay without Adrian (It was getting crowded and she remembered hearing Dallas when she was running for her life). She was still in her blood-stained clothes, and rested her arm on the back of the chair. She frowned down at Dallas, whom hadn't seen the former shapeshifter in two months.

 

"Hello Showstopper, it seems like you haven't changed at all."

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IC:A loud sigh filled the room, as Rebekah's violet eyes finally opened, blinking at the sudden brightness. "I suppose there's really no point in denying the fact that it's morning.""Morning to you too, Brooklyn."

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

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:

 

"Bad karma," Dallas muttered, swirling two fries in ketchup and eating them pensively before looking back up at Quinn and shrugging; he was an artist, not a technical geek, so he tried to explain it as simply as he could, not only for the sake of the Oregonian, but for the sake of his own sanity and dignity.

 

"There was a machine that we hooked ourselves up to," he explained. "We plugged in some coordinates, bounced around a while, ended up here."

 

"We? There are more alternate X-Men?"

 

Dallas bit his lip at the question, and it was obvious that the answer still enraged him, but his face remained stoic and composed after he remembered his near meltdown in front of Alex. When he spoke, his voice was carefully measured, still polite but obviously still hurting.

 

"Not anymore," he replied. "When we went back to my home 'verse, a lot of us didn't last very long. One or two went psycho. There's some that are catatonic. One of us stayed here, apparently: he's the kid you saw lose the arm earlier. And then there's...well, me. I came back here a day or two ago on taxi duty. Thinking about staying--"

 

He turned to see Wild Card standing there, and he grinned and stood, hugging her unceremoniously with a warmth that the cold, casually calculating teen hadn't really possessed when he'd first rolled into this place with the Ultimates.

 

"Hey, Card. It's really good to see you."

 

IC:

 

"Sleep great? I did."

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

 

"I slept remarkably well. Normally I'm too paranoid to sleep anywhere new." The teen slowly hauled herself into a cross-legged sitting position and stretched. "I hope I didn't steal the blanket in the night or anything."

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

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:

 

Oh god, he's hugging me?! Why is he hugging me?

 

"Uhm- Dallas? You do know I'm covered in blood..." She said, eyes wide open, not expecting this reaction. Last time she met Dallas, he would've been more than happy to do anything in his power to get her to follow orders. And now here he was here. Hugging her. While she was covered in blood. Ew. She lightly put her arm on Dallas' back, unsure of what else to do.

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IC:

 

She sat up, too, yawning and stretching; her black tank top was a little small, so it tugged up at her midriff. Brooklyn looked down and idly traced the name Carlisle above her navel, bobbing her head to the side and whistling cutely to herself before turning over to Rebekah.

 

"So, what sort of magical and mystical adventures are the Sardonic Stalwart and her sidekick, the Cheerful Crusader, gonna go on today?"

 

IC:

 

"Yeah, well, everyone else is dead and separated by an interdimensional barrier. I'm not gonna go and hug them."

 

-Tyler

Edited by Tyler Durden

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:"I have no idea." Rebekah idly pushed her hair back over her shoulder, and blinking again. It was even more bright here than her room got under the best of circumstances. "You have anything you want to do today?"

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

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:

 

"Ever learned how to skateboard...?"

 

IC:

 

"Oh, yeah, my manners. Right. Card, this is Quinn St. Stark. Quinn, this is...uh...Card. She's, err...the only one left from back home."

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC - Cambion - Hellfire Mansion:

 

Good morning! Good morning! Good morning!

 

"Good ******* morning to you too, alarm clock."Victor plunked the top of the alarm clock, turning off the bleeping voice. The young mutant rubbed his eyes and rose from the bed. The world was a blurry, a byproduct of his poor eyesight.

 

His hands played across the mahogany night stand, until they touched upon his glasses. "There we go." Maximoff rose, the room clear once again, and surveyed the room. Rich carpet, ornate fixtures, two bookshelves lined with volumes and every bit of furniture looked like an antique. "Bit too Victorian for my tastes." Maximoff yawned and threw on a light black shirt from his suitcase.

STAR WARS GALAXY AT WAR


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IC: "DADFRIPIT!" Fox tripped over a rock, (inadvertently saving himself from bullet fire) righted himself, shot around a corner, jumped, spun in midair, and threw his daggers into the man chasing him. The speedster stopped and brushed his hands together, pulling his weapons out of the dead man's chest. Fox smirked. Time to make that phone call.

No such thing as destiny.

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OOC: Well since Flex quit, I get to do this. Permission from the other mods

 

IC: As morning hit the Xavier mansion, Francesca crept down to the med-bay. If anyone saw her, she was just going down to see if Beast after the incident. Perfectly reasonable, he was a bit of a father figure to many in the school, and he had been shot right in front of her. A combination of care and survivors guilt should be enough to dissuade any suspicions. And if anyone wondered why she was creeping, well, it was early morning, she didn't want to wake anybody up.

As she slipped inside the sterile chrome furnishing of the medbay, she gazed at a control box on the wall. The wires inside changed from copper to silver, a better electrical conductor and the suddenly higher flow of voltage was enough to short the system. The cameras and alarms around the medbay shut off as the fuse for the room blew. She hadn't had to worry about cameras last time thanks to the Danger Mansion assimilating them, but now they were a worry she had to take care of. It would also mean Beast's life signs suddenly vanishing wouldn't be noticed until someone physically checked in on him. And who knows, if anyone got suspicious about a second electrical glitch, maybe she could pin that on Warren. Say he got a taste for the mansion's juice after she accidentally showed him the main power room. That was the good thing about having a mansion full of mutants, most of whom were experiencing puberty. It gave so many suspects.

That was why she wasn't using her own powers to just turn the dead fur and skin cells on Beast into acid droplets, or the ceiling above him into napalm. It would rather give the game away. Speaking of which...she turned to the control panel again, and returned the wires to their original state. There. Evidence gone.

She took a few cautious steps towards Beast. He'd been strapped to the table, with his legs dangling over the end, after he'd refused to stay still despite his injuries. He looked unconscious. Eyes shut, slow breathing, low heart-rate...

 

"Who knew that a feline appearance would also give you the nine lives," she mused, "Chalk that one up to secondary super powers I guess."

 

She grabbed a scalpel. Like bullets, slitting his throat was such a mundane means of death that anyone in the mansion could be a suspect. Except maybe that wheelchair kid. Could he have got close enough in that chair...?

Something heavy slammed into her, throwing her bodily to the floor. It was one of the metal trays, someone had slid it out from a nearby drawer and hurled it at her.

 

"I'm afraid hazarding a hypothesis towards any alternate advancements my mutation may have benevolently bestowed has caused you to miss one simple statement obvious I would hope even to the most asinine of observers," said the very much not unconscious Beast, "That for one to have a set of secondary abilities, one must first have a primary mutation." He grabbed another tray with his ape-like feet, the aforementioned primary mutation, sliding it out of its slot and throwing it at her with skill and strength that would make an Olympian discus thrower weep and resign.

Francesca resisted the urge to turn it to something harmless like water, still worrying about any transmutation pointing directly to her, and instead rolled out the way.

 

"Your frame up of Sarah was formidable, I will grant you," said Beast again. He was struggling with the straps that held him down as his feet grasped out for more things to throw, "But it lacked one crucial element. Sarah had the opportunity, and the means, even if it was questionable from whence she had retrieved that particular piece of hand-held artillery you planted upon her person, but she had no obvious motive. Like taking the hydrogen from a molecule of hydrogen dioxide. A negligible change but one that makes the world of difference. You wouldn't want to throw pure oxygen on a fire after all." He chuckled, "Excuse me my science related humour. It might be a little above you." His feet got hold of another scalpel, that had fallen off one of the trays he'd thrown, and with a quick flick threw it into the air. He caught it effortlessly in one hand. By the handle too, which was just showing off. He started sawing at the straps but Francesca had reached him again, and grabbed his one hand with both of hers trying to wrest the tiny knife out of his grip. In the struggle the strap holding down Beast's wrist snapped, giving him the leverage to go with his natural strength and with a flex of his forearm he threw Francesca away. She hit a far wall, disturbing a shelf of pill bottles which rained down on her with a clatter.

 

"Pure oxygen on a fire is bad, but what about strychnine in a mutant?" she sneered.

 

A look of comprehension and horror spread across Beast's face and his eyes flicked to the IV attached to his arm. There was no obvious visible change in the transparent fluid it was feeding into his veins, but he just knew that was what she'd done. The arm he hadn't managed to partially free. He tried grasping for it, but with only half an arm to grasp with he simply didn't have the range to reach across his own broad-shouldered frame. His hand went to the remaining straps on his moveable arm, but either in the struggle with Francesca or the panic for the IV he'd dropped the scalpel and couldn't cut through them. He still had claws but they were sharpened points and lacked any decent razor edge he could use for cutting.

 

"Did you think I was listening with adoring fascination while you were yammering on?" Francesca asked, "There should be enough of it in your system now to finish you off. You won't be able to sing your song of submission anymore." She turned to leave, but as she closed the medbay doors behind her, spat out one last rejoinder, "See? I can do alliteration too."

 

She didn't slam the doors, as with the locking mechanism blown out along with the other electrics slamming them would just cause them to bounce back open. If people walked by open doors they'd know some sort of sabotage had happened. And in all honesty there was a tiny part of her that just didn't want to watch the death throes of Beast. She'd chosen strychnine because it metabolised fast, which would both kill Beast quickly to prevent him telling anyone about the assassin in their midst and be absorbed by his systems with little trace in case anyone felt like performing an autopsy to look for poison or other foul play. But it wasn't going to be a pleasant way to go. The constant spasms wouldn't be too bad as he was fixed in place, but they would eventually kill him as they closed his throat up. She wished she could have picked a better death - a cleaner death - for him, but in the end death was death.

She still didn't want to see it though.

Looking around to make sure there were no witnesses, she darted off, back to her own room. She'd try to manufacture some files that said she was talking online to her parents at this time, give herself an alibi...

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IC:

 

Brooklyn grinned; the expression was excitable and bright, but soft and gentle at the same time. As a matter of fact, in her half-awake state, that could be said for Brooklyn as a whole. While it was clear that she still had her signature distinct cheer and purity of heart about her, she was less buoyant right now, more peaceful and relaxed. Normally, she could be compared to a puppy; in her first minutes of wakefulness, she was a stuffed animal. No less adorable, but a different demeanor regardless.

 

She stretched again with a yawn and then scooted around the bed, sliding along the foot of the frame in her short shorts and plopping down next to Rebekah. Her long arms coiled around her best friend (girlfriend? Okay, seriously, what was their relationship?) one around her waist and the other diagonally up and around her shoulder. Slowly, almost as though both of them were ice sculptures that would melt at anything more than the heaviest touch, Brooklyn kissed Rebekah on the cheek and looked back at her friend hesitantly.

 

"Well, we can, uh...give it a shot regardless. If...if ya want."

 

-Tyler

Edited by Tyler Durden

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

 

"Brooklyn, relax." Rebekah smiled broadly, wrapping an arm around her friend, and bringing her in for a hug. "I'm not about to yell at you, or glare at you, or bite your head off. No need to be nervous. I promise."

 

"And if you want to try skateboarding, we can. I have absolutely no plans, and absolutely no idea how to spend the day. I'm open to pretty much any suggestion. We could skateboard, we could go search out a beach, we could sleep, whatever you want."

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

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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OOC: We had a timeskip then?

 

Oh. And there's a new emperor in town.

 

IC (Romulus)

 

Romulus sat alone in his study within the Hellfire Mansion. Everything was going perfectly. Weapon-X had been a means to an end, nothing more and nothing less. The Hellfire Club was much the same. He had but one ambition. Empires fell. Rome had proven this. Therefore, becoming an emperor was utterly pointless. Trying to rule was utterly pointless. Entropy was one of the basic laws of the universe....no one understood that but him it seemed. He'd seen it. He seen it through the thousands of years of his existence. He had but one thing to live for then. Blood. Fenris was but a means to an end. Romulus wanted to see suffering. He wanted to see the games of old....writ large. He needed to rule nothing. He wished only to bath in the blood of the world as it drowned in violence. His plans were all made with that in mind. Weapon X was a tragedy anyone could have seen coming. Incompetent guards. A bloodthirsty colonel in command of the whole operation and a clearly insane scientist giving free reign to do as he wished...

 

Romulus grinned. It had been wonderous. It had been delightful and the fall of the Hellfire club would be just as brilliant. Perhaps he would force them to fight a Werewolf one on one when Fenris was freed. Yes. He would do that. He would the same to all who had defied him. Hannibal and his accursed elephants. The Gauls and their stinking warchiefs...yes, they would all be thrown into the arena with the wolves. Their blood would be a pleasure to see. To spill.

 

"You fool."

 

The words cut across the room. Romulus snarled and rose from his desk, turning to see the being who had dared to defile his study with it's petty presence. His claws emerged with sickening sound of metal on metal as he whirled about and saw....himself? "You were a useful pawn I admit. But that is all you were....and now? Now you have overstayed your welcome. You have become wasteful. Dumping resources into doomed projects. Allowing your underlings to engage in wanton havoc....and spreading it yourself. You are no emperor. You are but a petty barbarian. You know what I do to barbarians." The other Romulus was dressed in a set of armor that would not have been out of place on a Caeser. The man looked like an emperor in every sense of the word.

 

The bareshirted Romulus behind the desk snarled. "What are you? You thin-" A gunshot cut him off. Then another. And another. AP rounds tore great chuncks of flesh out of him. His vision turned red as blood poured into his eyes. What had happened? What was going on? Who was doing this? Why did he have his face? Then the clones mind shut down and he thought no more.

 

Romulus kneeled down next to the maimed body of his clone. "A pity." Romulus had long determined that he needed time to study. To plan. The modern world had been changing. Fast. He'd needed to establish a solid network of contacts. A silent network. He had left behind this clone to manage his affairs within the budding Weapon-X organization and this was what he had returned to. Pathetic. He turned to the wall behind him....and the assassins lurking behind it. The Hellfire Club was going to have a change in management.

Edited by Basilisk

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC:

 

"Whatever you want. Though admittedly, if we try and skateboard at a beach, I might be too busy staring at the water to be very successful." After a moment, she released her from the hug.

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

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:

 

"Not that I can remember." The former Weapon admitted sheepishly. "I know what they are, I have some idea of what they look like, but I've never actually seen one. I've never seen a beach, either. Weapon X wanted to keep a close eye on me, so they never sent me anywhere with a coast.""They probably thought I'd hop a boat and escape."

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

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 (Romulus)

 

"Sir?" One of the assassins, clad in power armor designed to resemble the armor of a roman legionnaire stood in the doorway. His blank faceplate revealing no hint of emotion, the long-barreled rapidfire weapon he wielded hung at his side. His armor was silver in color, with a red faceplate and markings adorning it. It was an excellent design, one that Romulus had spared no expense on. It had been easy enough to get them inside the building. He had the face of the clone after all. "They'll have heard that sir."

 

"I'm aware Lucius. I'm aware." Romulus picked up a half empty wineglass from the desk and took a sip from it. "Pardon me." He calmly kneeled down once more and began to search through the pockets of his clone. "There it is. Intercom passcodes. Lovely. Prepare your legionnaires Lucius. I have an announcement to make."

Edited by Basilisk

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC: White Lightning

Jack made his way down to the med-ward, after getting a quick bite of breakfast. His face still looks groggy and angry for some strange reason. He wanted to check the status of Beast, even though Tyrone told him to get out. He didn't care, even if it was a life-or-death situation. He knocked on the side of the door; no answer. He entered any ways.

 

IC: Marauder

Marauder went into a hotel restroom and made a call to SHIELD. "I need to put in a reservation on the Courtyard Hotel. I'm already inside, so I need this done quick."

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