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IC:

 

Dominik's eyebrows raised up, giving the tactician an affirmative as he began to walk, Abraham tagging alongside him. "I like the safe house. Nice view of the sunrise. The Hudson looks beautiful. Territory doesn't offer a lot of mercy for anyone who isn't used to it."

 

IC:

 

About ninety seconds later, Brooklyn leaped in after Rebekah.

 

IC:

 

After about forty-five seconds of silence, Dallas sighed and put his head in his hand, looking out the window as he leaned onto the table; Quinn followed his gaze to nothing in particular and all was silent for a little while before the chronokinetic grumbled something under his breath. Quinn turned to look at him.

 

"What was that?"

 

"Where's René?" Dallas repeated, louder this time so Quinn could hear his moaned prayer for deliverance from his fellow prettyboy. "I need my Blonde Monster in my arms. Life doesn't feel right without him."

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: White Lightning

Jack grabbed what ever the guard was going for, and a walkie talkie that he had. He made sure it was on the same comm channel as the rest. He then grabbed his garbs and put it on while heading to maximum security. Jack took the front of the pack,and he held his arm out like if it was a gun. He checked every hallway to see if there was no guards, for this is a prison.

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IC:

 

It would've been time-consuming to try and pick up and put on any of the uniform that the guards wore, so she didn't bother. Plus, the guards would know that their security had been breached the second they saw an armless teenage girl wandering about in a guard uniform.

 

"Which way is Maximum security?" She asked, eyes scanning for any guards, "Any of you know?"

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IC:

 

"It is quite defensible. A rather helpful side effect of the location, though I doubt that my family was looking for defense when they purchased it." The reply would have been simple, easily forgotten. Words simply meant to fill a silence, were it not for one thing.

 

They marked the first, and thus far only, time Abraham had mentioned anything of his past before the Brotherhood.

 

IC:

 

After a few second, Rebekah surfaced, laughing and grinning wildly. She pushed off with her feet, arms and legs moving smoothly, propelling her through the water with surprising grace. Her movements were fluid and controlled, though she had absolutely no conscious idea of how she was doing what she was doing.

 

"Brooklyn, this is great."

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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: "Which Hard Rock Café?" Annie asked.

 

"No, not the restaurant," Alaric clarified. "The Hard Rock Hotel and Casino in Vegas."

 

"Oh, I gotcha," Annie said as she stared out the window. "Never heard of it. Is it nice?"

 

"It's alright."

 

The smalltalk couldn't persist for much longer and it quickly petered off. Every mile or so another brief sentence was blurted and an equally unwholesome answer was given, just for the conversation to die yet again. Finally, Annie was the one who brought the big guns out starting from the very beginning. "I can remember when the last will and testament was read. Can you?"

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IC:

 

Alaric's hand gripped the steering wheel of the Ferrari as though it were Warren's throat, watching the speedometer climb up to something in the mid nineties as he took a second to answer. Annie's opal gaze was on him, not exactly impatient but still waiting for an answer; her big brother finally looked over, one blue eye covered by jet black hair so that he couldn't see the light shame in both his eyes.

 

"I wore the stupidest ascot," he recalled, looking back towards the road. "I felt like hanging myself with it."

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

 

"I was six years old and there were lawyers reading intense legal language from my recently 'deceased' father's own mouth," Alaric replied. "I wasn't exactly chomping at the bit."

 

"But how did you feel--?"

 

Alaric sighed, cutting Annie off without meaning to, and brushed the hair out of his eyes so he could actually pay attention to the road and not try to stare through his raven tresses. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, and the shame in his eyes hadn't gone anywhere, but it was almost fresher now. Like they more they talked about it, the more he remembered, and the less he wished to.

 

"I felt dirty. I didn't know why, didn't know what the frick a ward of the State was or what Warren's fortune actually was beyond a bunch of cool little clothes and a backseat to a fancy Lincoln, but I remember feeling like...wrong. You know?"

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

 

"Right," Alaric conceded. "So...why not come for me sooner? Why wait seventeen years to come back and see if Warren had popped up by chance?"

 

-Tyler

Edited by Tyler Durden

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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Ic: "Because," Annie almost sighed and then closed her eyes as if to contain a tidal wave from pouring out of her pupils, "it took me this long to be free of the fetters I was given and to prepare to finally meet him," she explained. "I wasn't given the tools of the trade, Alaric, no boosts for me. I wasn't born to be a mutant, neither hero or villain. Everything I am became since that day is because I built myself from scratch and kept the wolves from tearing me apart. To even stand up to someone with a moniker of 'Angel?' You gotta be hella sure you're in' ready as for it."

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IC:

 

Alaric's eyebrows raised slightly at Annie's rock solid belief in the answer she had presented him, and he shrugged, clearly proud of his little sister despite their still rocky relationship.

 

"Alright, then. I'm ready, too."

 

-Tyler

Edited by Tyler Durden

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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Ic: Annie didn't wait for an extensive pause this time and followed up in the conversation. "So what about you? Why didn't you try to find me in the last, I don't know, decade? Or did you forget about your poor little orphan Annie?" The tinge of caustic energy again tainted her words. Gaining a brother was easy enough but soothing seventeen years of building storms was much harder.

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IC:

 

"You know, Abe Lincoln stood for a group of people. Martin Luther King, Jr. stood for a group of people. ######, man. You know, John F. Kennedy, he stood for a lotta people. The higher up you stand for someone, the quicker you get shot in the head, huh? I mean, ######. Look what they did to Malcolm X."

 

The man was behind him, sitting on an air conditioning vent atop Trump Tower. From here, the stars were just beyond Daken's reach, just past the point where he could reach out with the Muramusa blade in his wrist and pluck one from the sky. They looked so beautiful as they gave up the fight to shine, Daken thought to himself, burning out in the kind of way a nightlight burns out when a parent comes in after their kid's asleep and flicks it off. Daken felt a passing urge to reach out and grab one of those stars before it burned out, wanted to make it burn just for him, then the urge faded away into the violescent sunrise.

 

"I was alive when Jack Kennedy got shot," he continued, more to himself than to the man on the AC unit. "It doesn't look like it, but I was old enough that I voted for Jack Kennedy, I watched Jack Kennedy die right there on a crowded street in Dallas, and Pietro Maximoff was no Jack ###### Kennedy. But I can't help but feel like...you know what I mean? I wasn't ######ting on that video feed, man. I made history tonight. And that kind of sucks, because I martyred that mother######er. In front of billions. There were little kids in this very city, probably right underneath me, who watched me kill that guy. There are hipsters in California and politicians in Europe and even peasants in North Korea who took five minutes to quit whining about how hungry they are to watch me kill that guy. And I did. And what'd I do it for? To kill a madman? HeII, Malcolm X was psycho for most of his life. Dude dealt drugs, you know? He's still a genius.

 

"Not like Pietro's Malcolm X though, either, right? I mean, what'd he really stand for, beside straight up conquest? The serfdom of millions of Tom, Dick, and Harry's throughout the world? Naw, man, there aren't gonna be a lot of people who mourn him. But there's still that same gravity to it: that I killed a guy with a massive following, through the entire world, and I still don't know what I did it for beyond the fact that I did it. Those who stand for nothing, they'll fall for anything. I saw that ###### on a bumper sticker once."

 

The man behind him didn't say anything to Daken's story of a psalm on a bumper sticker, nor did he say anything at all. He never did: the assassin still hadn't heard the man's voice since he had awoken in the Caribbean, still recovering from being mostly dead courtesy of Ashlynn Summers. But he was always listening. Daken could tell that much just from the slow, gradual creeping throughout his body he got the longer he talked and talked without a reply. At times, he could feel the man's eyes twirling on his back like dancers, idiosyncratic and programmed to pump chills through his spine like a drug, a festering addiction that was truly impossible to detox from. And he, of all people, knew addiction.

 

And still, the man said nothing.

 

"And it sucks," he finally admitted to himself, his .45 ACP still balanced between his legs, pointed downwards towards the ground thousands of feet below. "Because when he found out Jack Kennedy died, Martin Luther King, Jr. turned to his wife and said to her, 'Coretta, this is what is going to happen to me, also. I keep telling you, this is a sick society.' Can you imagine Martin Luther King saying that ###### in one of his speeches? Could you imagine you saying it, admitting that you was gonna die right there in front of God and everyone, talking ###### to everyone that you never got to talk ###### to, really calling out society on everything he could have? That's why I admire him. King had balls. Malcolm X, he had huevos. So did Kennedy, and Abe Lincoln, and even Pietro. They stood up and they called the world out with a gun to their heads, and then even though they had their brains blown out right afterwards, you couldn't erase their words. You couldn't erase what they've done.

 

"So I admire them, but at the same time I'm scared of them, because after tonight you can't erase what I've done. And now I can't help but think...this is what is going to happen to me, also. I keep telling you, this is a sick society."

 

Somewhere, fittingly enough, The Notorious B.I.G. was playing, even though it seemed unfeasible that any sort of stereo could carry to the top of Trump Towers. Maybe someone from an adjacent apartment was playing it, or maybe it was playing from some theatre somewhere, or maybe in Times Square. Even in death, even when his brain and his body were blown apart across the stretched leather seats of a non-registered sedan, an artist like B.I.G. could still communicate his words to an audience of millions, and people would connect. As legacies go, that wasn't a bad way for things to turn out.

 

"When the ###### do we get started?" he asked, more to himself, more quietly now, as though he' grown tired of expecting a reply. Then:

 

"Soon."

 

Daken looked up in mild surprise, just in time to see the corpses of the stars above burn out into dust and slip away into the morning sunrise.

 

IC:

 

A bug dove headfirst into the windshield, marring the otherwise perfect view from the Ferrari's cockpit with the slightest of lesions; the highway ahead of them was apathetic at the death of one of its many millions of insectoid passengers, its winds and turns like the shrug of shoulders as Alaric's speedometer weaved and bobbed depending on road conditions but never clambering up above seventy. The car's speed ran on a rhythm similar to the hyperkinetic's own: always three steps ahead of everyone else, but never quite feeling like it.

 

Well, not always: there were times, like right now, where Alaric felt as though everything else were bogged up in a traffic jam, while he and his Ferrari tore forward like an Olympic sprinter, in a race against the entire world that would never be one, but could never be lost. Through it all Annie kept pace with him, a testament to both her bitterly persevering attitude and his desire to let her keep up.

 

"I didn't forget. I just ###### up."

 

"Yeah, you did."

 

There were no bugs to conveniently dive into the window this time, nor was there any sort of road noise from inside the Ferrari that could possibly put a wedge in the conversation; Alaric didn't look away from the road because it was clearly too dangerous to do such a thing at this speed, but at the same time all his attention was clearly focused on Annie.

 

"I don't have any excuses that you want to hear," he admitted. "I was just...trying to find my own way first, I guess."

 

-Tyler

Edited by Tyler Durden

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

 

"Well, it's this unwritten rule, isn't it?" Ric asked metaphorically. "A guy's supposed to learn all the on how to be a man from his old man. Warren was off doing his whole convent routine, so I just kind of...taught myself along the way."

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: Ashley

 

Ashley paused, thinking it over, then she grabbed another handle for cereal and nommed it up. "Nevermind."

 

IC: Shiloh

 

Shiloh had become silent when Dominik joined their little group of ragtag remnants of the Brotherhood. While her mouth had been inactivate, her ears had been working at maximum, paying attention to everything that was being said. Even though Dominik was only just one single addition to their small group, she felt his presence increased their chances of survival greatly. He had the same level of competence as Abraham, and even more confidence. May now they could finally start getting things done.

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My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

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

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IC:

 

When Brooklyn surfaced, she was met with a bizarre sight. The ocean was clear for several yards around her, with nary a ripple in sight. No people, no floating detritus, nothing. She turned in place a bit, trying to figure out where Rebekah had gone. She could swim, right? She wasn't drowning?

 

Then, quite suddenly, she felt something faintly brush against her ankle. Unbidden, the Jaws theme song seemed to play, though it was probably her imagination kicking in. If she made the connection in time, and knowing her, she probably would, she would take a deep breath-

 

Only to be yanked underwater seconds later, pulled into a hug by the only violet-eyed shark impersonator that the west cast had ever seen.

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:

 

Dallas laughed, shaking his head as he finished off his bowl, and then flung himself over to the side, nestling into Ashley's side and cuddling up there.

 

"Love you, too."

 

IC:

 

Dominik heard lighter footsteps, slightly more graceful than Nate's had been, and turned with his upper body as he walked to wave at Shiloh with a casual, pearly enamel grin.

 

"Hi, Shiloh."

 

IC:

 

Brooklyn would have yelped had she not been pulled underwater, where such a yelp would have met her with a mouthful of water; as it was, she grabbed Rebekah in a hug, wrapping her arms around her ribs and back with a squeeze. Humming the Jaw's theme now, the young thespian leaned in with a toss of her newly wet hair and leaned in to kiss Rebekah.

 

-Tyler

Edited by Tyler Durden

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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Ic: Annie inhaled deeply and gave a halfhearted, "I suppose so," then exhaled on her window. Her breath materialized condensation on the glass and she quickly drew a bird with her finger.

 

"Pick a number between one and seven," she said apathetically.

Edited by EmperorWhenua
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IC:

 

"Three."

 

Alaric, Annie, and Brooklyn. The three Worthingtons.

 

IC:

 

Aleksandr tossed his trash out and lightly walked out into the manor itself; the Russian was still lightly bandaged up and felt like crud, but otherwise could largely move around and act relatively normal despite the fact that he'd been tossed around a fair bit by Enforcer mechs.

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

 

Rebekah grinned, kissing Brooklyn even as she pushed off from the ground, surfacing in a burst of water. Even once she pulled back for breath, she didn't release her from the hug.

 

"Gotcha."

 

IC:

 

"Well, as much as I would love to stay and chat about your conscience, I really have very little to say on the subject. And I'd like to get a cab before it gets dark. So, see ya."

 

Tera picked up her luggage once again, throwing the punching bag over her shoulder, and hefting the duffel bag containing most of her belongings. But the bag on her shoulder was blocking her peripheral vision, and so it was that she didn't see the man coming from her left, their paths set to a collision course.

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:

 

THWACK![

 

Tera's duffel bag went crashing right into Aleksandr's still heavily-injured shoulder, sending him spinning backwards with a sick sounding crack. Always thinking a step ahead, the Russian pickpocket envisioned the ground rushing up to meet him and a pillar rose up from the floor, allowing Aleks to catch himself and bring himself back onto his feet with the nimble grace of a panther.

 

"Holy shi-" Tera spun on one heel, dropping both bags, so she could get a good look at who she'd run into. "I'm sorry, I couldn't even see you coming. Are you alright?"

 

"Yeah," Aleks hissed quietly, putting on a tough face and a cute grin as he stood up straight. "Just my shoulder. I'm good."

 

IC:

 

"You trickster," Brooklyn replied, moving her right arm wide and splashing Rebekah in the back of the head. "Beautiful swimming weather, huh?"

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC - Tengu - X-Mansion: Oyama inhaled sharply as he walked out of the Quinjet, turning his instinctive grimace into a look of professional detachedness. In his mind, the Institute was a travesty. "Goddamn terrorist training camp." The Agent of M.A.C.E. and former Enforcer walked resolutely from the Quinjet noting a monument in the middle of the courtyard. A statue of a phoenix, made of burnished bronze. At the base of the statue was a brass plaque. The man sauntered past the plaque, noting the mass of names engraved upon it. Former X-Men, including the now infamous Jean Grey. A small cluster of names seemed to be freshly engraved, and brought a ghost of a smile to Agent Oyama. With short half-skips, he mounted the steps and stopped in front of the large wooden door. This wasn't an invasion. Just a cordial house call from the government. "High time for the 'Astonishing X-Men' to realize the gravity of their situation."*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*

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IC:

 

"Absolutely gorgeous. I can't believe I'd never done something like this before, it's so much fun. The water's cool, the sun's great. I'm having more fun than I've had in... I don't even know."

 

Brooklyn was quite suddenly pulled into a hug again, Rebekah's chin resting on her shoulder. "Thank you."

 

IC:

 

"You don't look, or sound okay. I know a little first aid, want me to take a look? You guys seem pretty short on medical staff."

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:

 

"Well, technically, I should still be in a hospital ward..." Aleks admitted. "I was kind of screwed up bailing out the real X-Men in Vegas...jumped in front of an Enforcer mech and took a good bit of collateral damage from a Sidewinder...whatever. You don't wanna hear about the details."

 

IC:

 

"Don't mention it, b," Brooklyn giggled, before realizing Rebekah was totally serious and slowing down her jubilant laughter, resting her head on Rebekah's shoulder in turn as they bobbed, casually helpless in the grip of the waves.

 

"You're welcome. This was all for you."

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

 

Tera's eyes narrowed slightly at the explanation, though she did her best not to show it. He'd been in combat with the Enforcers, in Vegas no less. But, he needed help. And that overruled any distaste she had for his chosen path. She took a step forward, eyes fixed on the injured shoulder.

 

"May I?"

 

IC:

 

For several moments, approaching almost a minute, Rebekah was completely silent. Any attempts to speak were blocked by the large lump that had somehow formed in her throat, though a few barely audible attempts were made. Finally, she was able to get past it and articulate the thoughts that sprinted though her mind.

 

"I know. And you have absolutely no idea how much it means to me. It sounds like something cliche, but it's true."

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:

 

The thought of Warren dead left an odd hole in Alaric's chest for a second, but then he remembered that he had thought Warren dead for seventeen years regardless, then he pictured the loneliness he'd felt in his chest all his life, the longing for a family. Then he pictured what Annie must have gone through, and...

 

A sudden thought.

 

"Annie," he said carefully, "did you ever happen to come across one of the family rings? Did Warren give you one when you were little, maybe? Or maybe your nurse?"

 

IC:

 

"If you gotta."

 

Aleks reached into his pocket as an afterthought and searched around for his phone. A beat of silence as his hand met empty pocket: a low look of dismay coming over his face as he searched through his skinny jeans with his free arm. Finally, he found it clinging to the back right pocket and pulled it out, an audible look of relief coming over his face. He saw Tera's it's just a phone look already showing on her face and rolled his eyes.

 

"It's how I stay in touch with my mum," he explained. "She's why I'm here."

 

 

After a moment's hesitation, the teenager nodded. Using one hand, she gently prodded his shoulder, running her hand along the wound, trying to locate the issue.
"She must mean a lot to you."
Aleksandr stiffened in a pain that was more emotional than physical; it allowed Tera to locate exactly where his shoulder was screwed up, and she got to work on trying to ease the reagitated shoulder before anything else happened to it.
"She, uh...she...yeah."
No tears, Aleks. Keep it back.
IC:
"Cliches are totally subjective, you know."
-Tyler
Edited by Tyler Durden

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

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IC:

 

Tera hummed quietly to herself in response, fingertips working the muscles in his shoulder, easing the tension. "Agitated muscles. Bone seems half-way healed, but in this case, muscles bunched up. Keeps the joint from working properly, and can cause some serious issues in the long run.""You're going to want to get someone to check on this daily, if you're adamant about staying out of a hospital."

 

IC:

 

"I guess so. But it really does mean a lot to me." The former Weapon's embrace tightened just a bit, resting one hand on the back of Brooklyn's head. "This is the first time that someone's gone out of their way, just because... Just because I'd never done something."

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: "Father never cared about me at all. Why would he have given me some magical ring?" she spat back almost too quickly. "My nurse..." she said more slowly, trying to think back. "I think she was the only one present who cared about me enough to protest giving me away. But even if she did slip such a thing to me it wouldn't have stayed with me for very long."

 

Alaric's silence signaled his curiosity.

 

"They don't let you keep anything in the Buffalo orphanages," Annie explained, struggling to remain calm and not throw a fit from the memories of those hellholes. She clenched her jaw to beep the bile from seething through.

Edited by EmperorWhenua
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IC - Tengu:Tengu entered as the door opened, politely nodding at Jared, and pressing the Identicard in his pocket, sending a signal to Morning Star. The android was ordered to take a stroll around the Institute's grounds, and avoid violent confrontation until it received express approval from his order. The agent brushed a crease from his trenchcoat as he stood in the entrance to the mansion, taking in the atmosphere for a second. He flashed his badge, before smoothly pocketing it. "Agent Oyama, M.A.C.E. I need to speak to your headmaster. Is Dr. McCoy in?"

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IC:

 

"I'm sorry," Alaric said in a pensive voice, turning back to the windshield. More silence, as the younger Worthington in the car tried to calm herself. Then Alaric turned back to her: another bug splattered against the windshield, bursting in a supernova of miniature blood and guts across the top right corner of the windshield, above Annie's head.

 

"Do you want to wear mine until we have Warren tied up and thrown in the trunk?"

 

Annie thoughtfully held her chin before unfolding her arms and looking down at the little ornament on Alaric's hand. Finally, she nodded without saying a word.

 

Alaric slid the ring off without a second thought and reached over, sliding it onto his little sister's middle finger, where it fit perfectly by the base of the finger and shone there almost happily.

 

IC:

 

"Wanna see if we can make out while I'm doing the dead man's float and you're balanced on top of me?"

 

-Tyler

Edited by Tyler Durden

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IC (General Yuri)
Yuri stood upon the bridge of the USS George Washington and resisted the urge to curse in all of the many languages he knew thanks to a very heroic effort on his part. The Brotherhood had not even had three days to prepare for this attack. They had not even had that long to flee….and somehow, most of them had gotten away. It had all been going so well at first. Their bombardment had shaken the city to it’s very core, with the only resistance coming from a group of particularly suicidal flying mutants. The anti-air defenses had shredded them into so much dust. The bombardment had continued for some time after that, with the largest concentrations of probable resistance being targeted. Yuri was not an overly emotional man, but if the technology used in United States spy satellites had had a physical, sentient form, he would have been sorely tempted to marry it. With aerial dominance, it had practically been child’s play to locate the biggest centers of fortification and then crush them under the weight of bombardment. MACE didn’t play games.
After that, they’d started to airdrop platoons and vehicles on the outskirts, setting up artillery and bombardment positions to further add to the carnage. They’d followed this up with saturated carpet bombing by the air force, followed by seek and destroy missions by the attack helicopters. Hardened points, what few remained, had been targeted by bunker busters or enough focused naval firepower to leave behind sizeable craters. Then they’d rolled in with the Tanks and IFV’s, expecting resistance….and they’d only found a smattering of shell-shocked survivors. Somehow, the majority of the Brotherhood had gotten away. Some of the survivors had tried to resist of course, a few HESH warheads hurled into their hiding places had dissuaded them of that notion, if it hadn’t left them a bloody stain on the wall. Even if the full power of the Brotherhood had been present, they wouldn’t have stood a chance against the massive level of force MACE had deployed.
Instead of crushing the whole vile organization however, they’d just crushed the stragglers. Yuri reached for a flask at his side, staring at the ruined, smoking city visible through the windows. He would find the rest of them. MACE would find them. The world was just a large hunting reserve now.
And the Brotherhood was the game.
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:

 

Rebekah paused, momentarily stuck dumb by the reply. Then she let out a sound almost like a ...... Giggle? "If you want to, sure. Sounds like an interesting challenge."

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: Nathan

 

I stiffened, in the course of a day, Jesika had slowly watched as people she looked up to, people she relied on had died, and now she was deathly afraid of losing anyone else, specifically me.

 

I guess I was pretty much it wasn't I? I was all she had left. My fists clenched, the solution was obvious, I just couldn't die, simple as that.

 

I looked at Jesika, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I promise I'll never leave, Ever."

 

IC: Ashley

 

Ashley squealed, her arounds going around Dallas and squeezing him like a teddy bear. Her head nuzzled into his shoulder. "You're as fluffy as a plushie!"

 

IC: Shiloh

 

"Hi." Shiloh responded, unblinking as her blue eyes stared at Dominik.

Edited by A billion cats

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My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

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

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