>>C:\main_drive\Section_1: Events

[sunflower]

[“Welcome doctor, we’re pleased you could make it on such short notice.”

“You’ll find this… enlightening.”]

If you're listening to this, well then, I suppose I'm not the only one with a complete waste of a talent.

If you know what's happening, then you should know better than to stay here and listen. I don't have to tell you what to do, you know already. You've probably seen what happens if you don't. Maybe lost a friend or two because of them. They didn't do what was needed.

If you're lost and confused, or too blind to see what's happening around you, then drop this and run. Run as far away as you can. Run until your legs take you not further. Make peace with the powers that be. And then kiss your behind goodbye, because that's just about as much time as you'll have before they come. They'll find you no matter where you hide. I cannot give you anything more than the hope that you may find a swift end to this existence, for it is the one boon I am deprived of.

But, then why am I here?

I don't know.

It's silly, really. A stupid, foolish reason. I think everyone needs a bit of hope, though.

But on the off-hand chance that this survives... I don't want this to be the end for it all, and so if you've somehow found this and things aren't Karz-on-earth. Think of it as a record, a memory of what happened here. A warning. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then I suppose I should start from the beginning. I might be able attach a vid to this system, no promis-

[Back-lit shadows attempted to trip the light fantastic upon the neon floors of the Lotus Ballroom, gliding about clumsily on drunken feet. Inebriated laughter, whispers, and footfalls reverberated together to form a cacophonic hubbub of uncontained ecstasy. The faces of the manqué dancers, or at least the faces not partially hidden in the darkness, glowed vividly with the plurality of colours flickering from the massive screens lining the walls in place of windows, exploding every millisecond with an eruption of blinding hues. Precariously-held drinks sloshed in shaking hands, salted with crocodile tears and flavored with the chintziest of ersatz-citrus, almost as unwanted as the ineluctable hangovers to follow. The sultry stares and the drunken reveling continued endlessly, a tempest of emotions fueled by ethanol and heedless grudges; much like the city it occupied, the Lotus Ballroom truly never sleeps, much to the detriment of its neighboring establishments. For hours, well past the midnight Coppers raid-attempt, the hopeless, heedless occupants of the neon turmoil sang, danced, cried, and, mostly, despaired, praying for a better day tomorrow, a future less dim, and past easier hidden.

They had planned to continue in their epicurean ways as they always did, but even they were forced to halt when the sirens started. Above the skyline, a swarm of Mockers screamed, diving between buildings for maximum effect, spiralling briefly around the monolithic apartment towers, and disappearing once more into the smog-hidden horizon. The noise disseminated through the minds of the Lotus's residents, filling their stomachs with the dull rumbles of fear. They climbed over each other and trampled to reach the exits, a horde of the unhinged and panicked, lazy and sluggish in their alcoholicly-inhibited attempts to run. As the Ballroom's varied denizen scurried hopefully, the entirety of the city's lights surceased their paltry shines, plunging the streets and elevated thoroughfares into utter darkness.

From beneath the Sublevels, a roar rose, sorrowful and dolorous even as the glass shattered throughout the lowers districts. The cemented-covered earth rumbled, moaned in return, and then split asunder, swallowing the entirety of Lotus Ballroom and its slower would-be evacuees. As watchers looked on in terror, a singular massive rhombus of the brightest vermilion rose above the screaming dipsomaniacs, cloaked in darkness and swivelling softly. Silence fell, for the smallest of moments, and then the Colossus opened the teeth-lined infinity that was its maw, and the screaming began.]

That was the first time they showed up.

And by the Great Beings was it not the last.

We're all going to die here. No one is going to survive.

But this.

This... May it be not lost to the depths of time...

This is their story.

[“This recording was found on what looks to be a personal computer. The device itself is highly advanced. The most accurate psychometric dating places the device and the time of the recording at least five-hundred thousand millennia before known civilization began. This is inconclusive, though we have not seen any differing results.”

“The validity of the events claimed to have transpired is questionable at best, no evidence has been found to confirm them-”

“All the same, we cannot deny them.”]

MidnightCity.

Welcome to Midnight City, a dystopian world wrought with strife, intrigue, and a war both craved and unwanted. A rotten place slowly tearing itself apart from the inside out, while mysterious forces devour from the outside in. A place where what good that had previously reigned has now been crushed under the oppressive heel of battle.

Beings here fight for power and simply destruction, defend the weak and attempt preserve their way of life, or live for themselves, just trying to survive the carnage around.

Though it wasn’t always like this.

The city itself was once a beacon of hope, a shining light of technological advancement, and testament of the enlightenment of those who lived there. It was a place where beings-- Glatorian, Matoran, Seltian, Toa, Makuta, Vortixx, Agori-- of all tracks of life could come together to create something magnificent.

There was no war.

No sickness.

No poverty.

No wanting.

It was a utopia.

It didn’t last long.

The growth was without direction nor regulation, and divide between the powerfully wealthy and the common worker grew exponentially, far sooner than anyone expected. Far faster than anyone could stop. The hyper-rich lived among the stars, at the highest points of their multi-kilometer skyscrapers. The unfortunates were forced down to carve out a life in the shadows of the buildings they helped create. Any form of contact at all between the two classes was nonexistent. They lived in completely separate worlds, oblivious to one another and unable to cross over.

And that was fine, each respective society wanted nothing to do with the other.

This continued on for many years, largely without incident. Yes, there was the occasional revolt to take the city above, the occasional attempt to cleanse the undercity of “filth”, though these never turned out to be anything major, nor had much of a lasting impact beyond the initial shocks.

Until they arrived. It was nothing at first, no more than rumors whispered by the insane and incoherent of shadowy monsters. Beasts that defied logic and destroyed all attempt of rational reason. Creatures that walked among and within shadows, stealing away people in the eternal night, flitting around the edges of a lone unfortunate’s vision. The rumors became more prevalent, until the point where they were hardly rumors anymore.

Things escalated quickly from there, as a heavily armed squad of Vahki suddenly appeared within the lower city, the first time direct contact had been made between the lower and upper sections within recent memory. They didn’t stay long, just enough to engage and kill one of the mysterious beasts, leaving a trail of destruction in their path, before just as quickly returning to the city among the stars.

That proved to be a pivotal event, as things quickly spiraled downhill. Soon, more and more soldiers from the upper city traveled down, and more and more sightings of the monsters were reported throughout the lower levels. The fighting between them, heedless to those living in the undercity, broke out soon after. The underworld was transformed almost overnight into a warzone, with it’s inhabitants trapped between two colossal forces at each other’s throats.

This is where your story begins, whether you’re an eldritch agent of darkness, a refugee of a war that you have no say in, or a warrior of light defending your way of life.

________________________________ ________________ ________ ____ __ _

[The world turned in silence, a malevolent sphere of festering iniquity and purposefully obscured beauty. Steel towers rose into the sky, as hard and relentless as a blade, and yet as delicate as summer grass, shivering in the heavy wind of the upper reaches of heaven. Below them, the nauseating foetor of the dying ascended from the Land of Night into the otherwise clean air of the City of Stars, curses from a prostrated opponent. The Vahki betwixt the two seperate world sat in silence, always watching, yet never truly perceiving the world that surrounded them. Darkness was rising, slowly, ponderously, but with growing power.]

DesolateLand.

The city itself is divided into three distinct parts, each stacked atop another, both physically and metaphorically crushing the one beneath.

City In The Stars

The first of which is the Uppercity, at one point indistinguishable from the rest of the metropolis, though years of unparalleled advancement has broken it off from the otherwise stagnant area. The uppercity is now a climate controlled shining jungle of polished glass and gleaming metal, the closest to the pinnacle of civilization that mortal creatures could achieve. It's towers soar into the sky without limit, some of the tallest reaching such a great height that it is hard to say whether or not they're still within the atmosphere at all. Airships fill the skies while chutes section off the spaces between buildings. Many of the most prestigious residences aren't even touching the ground, rather located on vast artificial floating islands that wander above the “surface” of the city. It is a place that scarcely any from below ever get to live, let alone glimpse. (For the purposes of this RPG, this area will be predominately off-limits to those who don't exactly belong there, for the reasons stated below.)

The Lock

At the boarder between the Upper and Lower city lies what's most commonly known as the Lock. Not a real, physical place in the normal sense, the Lock is the thin slice of city in which a literal army of Vahki patrols, keeping those above and below within their respective areas. The Lock itself may move up or down a number of levels depending on the political climate at the time and such, though it has generally followed a pattern of continually rising higher and higher. As the city above builds up, the Lock follows. The Vahki Enforcers stationed here are among the most ruthless, hulking monoliths of cold logic processors and inescapable weapons. They're programmed to use lethal force at all times, if one is found that doesn't belong. Despite this, the Lock isn't a perfect barrier, and like all seemingly impenetrable walls, there's always cracks. One may be able to cross over the Lock, provided they know the right people and have large enough wallets. Even then, the chances of actually making it over are slim at best. The only exception to this are those living above, Enforcer operative automatically have immunity, and citizens may be able to get past, as long as they have the right authentication.

Land Of Night

The final area in this city is that of the Lower City, located at the bottom of civilization in every sense of the phrase. The city is cast into a perpetual night, forever hidden by the miles of “higher” civilization that it supports. A twisted mass of protocrete and rusted metal, the only lighting here is that of half-functioning neon signs and the fires of the malcontent. Any sense of organization that the original builders planned has vanished from the constant decay and random additions. The only weather experienced here is that of a seemingly constant downpour of, at times acidic, rains. When it isn't completely drenched, thick, lung-destroying smog fills the air. What little open areas can be found are only massive caverns buried within the city.

Any and all forms of establishments can be found within the city, though the trustworthiness of all can be brought into question. A darkened alleyway means certain death to the unprepared. Now, in the early stages of war, the destruction caused by the beasts of darkness hasn't touched all, and it could possible be ignored by those who are oblivious. However, huge swaths of city have been demolished by the fighting, leaving behind the charred, twisted ruins of a struggling society, places where scavengers comb the rubble for anything of value.

Despite the jumbled mess of a city, there are a few point of interest. The primary one being the expanse, a huge cavern within the heart of the undercity, and what could be called the “safest” place to be. Gangs here have established the place as a neutral zone, and the more unsavory parts of society tend not to venture too close to here. There's a constant patrol of police officers with generally good intentions, and the bright-lit area deters crime. A variety of mostly legitimate shops have sprung up on the ”floor” of the cavern, while residential areas line the walls and ceiling. Located here is also the closest one could get to a park within the city, though there's nothing living here.

Located not too far away is the police station, a black fortress that houses society's protectors and destroyers. The “jail” is within these walls, though it doesn't hold criminals. Despite the actual institution's corruption, the station has become somewhat of a common area for more lawful-oriented citizens. The structure itself is massive, sticking out of the grime around like an industrial metal blister.

The last is less of an actual point, and more of an entire section. The lowest portion of the city is the lowest of the low. With things here that no sane being should see. It is considered off-limits by all.

(The Undercity is where the majority of action will take place within the RPG, and we encourage players to create, expand on, and explore this area as they wish.)

________________________________ ________________ ________ ____ __ _

I managed to gain access to a few dozen working cameras. Well, they say a picture is worth a thousand words. I thought it gave a fair enough look into the people living here today. I suppose it’s not that hard to guess who’s who, so I’m not going to spell it out. I’ll save data space for other, more important things.

PowersThatBe.

There are a number of factions within this City of Night, each vying for power.

[Glass and steel towers glinted in the light of a high-noon sun, an assemblage of postmodern monoliths of inhuman sizes; they did not simply scrape the sky, they pierced it and bathed in the glory of its darkest secrets. From within one of the tower's thousands of wall-sized windows, a Vortixx sat and stared at the passing air traffic. His hands were occupied with a concoction of ethanol and real fruit juice, the most expensive of pleasures, yet it was merely half-empty and wholly ignored by its owner. The Vortixx laid it on a nearby coffee table composed of shimmering ebony, and then stood, his supple frame stretching and tensing subtly with the seamless motion, and crossed his spacious living room.

He reached a vividly-coloured and elaborately constructed couch, and paused to watch its resident, a frivolously adorned Toa of Gravity. She peeked briefly at him from beneath a cover of furs and fine cloth, and then sighed, and curled into a tighter ball. “Well, what do you want?” she asked crossly, “Are the Unders acting up again? Do you need my help in the performing of simple arithmetic?” The Vortixx merely smiled in response, and continued his walk into a hallway filled with fine art and underpinned with the most expensive construction materials on the market. Oh, the woes of the affluent, pestered by their inferiors, and never recognized in their greatness.]

The Upper Citizens

A society of people living the life that only being influential and powerful beyond compare can provide, the upper citizens have everything they could ever want in life. They pursue whatever vocation that catches their imagination, from artistry to engineering to combat. For the most part, they seem unaffected by the fact that they’re at war, and continue living life as normally as ever.

[The cold, damp Understreets glowed a soft green with the light of an Enforcer brigade, rain puddles churning with the thousand metallic footsteps that filled the once-still air. Information streamed from Vahki to Vahki seamlessly, each eye representing those of a thousand, a legion of the truest form, an omniscient attack upon crime and iniquity. The prey of these particular Enforcers was tiring, his legs turning into lead and feet to stone as the meters vanished past. Running seemed little use; for ever meter he gained, the shadowy automatons gained four or five. With a scream, he collapsed in terror as he felt the sharp sting of a Bordakh's uncharged staff drawing blood. Before the scream ended, a thousand puncturing, needling, ravaging blows racked his body, and Loyalty and Suggestion replaced what was once a free mind.]

- The Enforcers:

Their military force is highly trained, with operatives working in small, mobile groups. They make use of extremely advanced protodermic technologies, from elementally-imbued armors to handheld devices that let them pass through solid objects. These operatives are backed by heavily armed and armored Vahki heavy infantry, completely robot enforcers built for a single purpose: combat. They are very hard to disable, let alone destroy. Even if their clockwork intelligence matrixes aren’t especially advanced. (While not a rule, because of the powerful nature of peoples of this group, we ask that players refrain from creating large amounts of characters within this subfaction.)

The Lower Citizens

A mirror image of the thriving civilization above, the beings condemned to the lower levels struggle each day to simply survive. With the eruption of battle within their very home, this has not become any easier. With the limited resources available to them, any sort of advanced technology is virtually nonexistent or unobtainable, with the most prevalent form of weaponry being a primitive form of projectile launcher that uses an explosive propellant. Nonetheless, these firearms are very easy to maintain, and still quite deadly.

[“Did you really think you could hide?” her face was mere centimeters away, spittle flying into his face with each and every syllable, bombarding his unfortunate eardrums with the angriest of roars. “You think we're like the Vahki, don't you? Think we're as easy to fool as the metalheads?” As she spoke, she tore open his shirt, plucking the bag from his once-hidden pocket. “Listen, Ngārara, I,” he started to say in response, eyes wide and hands attempting to push her back in self-defense, “I’m sorry. You see how well I run; just hire me-” The punch was a thunderbolt, a sledgehammer; the term unstoppable force seemed hardly adequate. He crumpled to the ground with a gasp, feeling his chest to see how badly his lungs had been damaged. She stood over him, and roared, each word punctuated with a rib-cracking kick. “You think we'd hire your type? You trash? We are The Kings! We are the brave, not filth and cowards. We don't need you and your tears.” He attempted to cry in pain, but a kick sent teeth into his throat, forcing him to choke. His body was breaking, deconstructing in the presence of a great and primal force. Blood pooled beneath his broken form, mixed with salty tears and the pearly white of teeth. “You stole from us; you doomed yourself.” He could only groan hoarsely in regretful response.]

- The Gangs:

The real power beneath the shadows lies in the gangs, with each Crime Lord carving out a section of city as their own. Enemies and alliances are created between them almost as quickly as they are destroyed, while the battles that rage between rivals never cease. Now, with foreigners fighting a battle within their territories, some fight to defend their holdings, while other try to obtain power from the chaos. (Gangs may be created and controlled as players see fit.)

[She paused for a moment, holding the bag in front of her, her smile faltering. “I hope it is indeed a good day, Mr. Pōua. I really do.” The Turaga merely smiled toothlessly in agreement. He didn't know this Matoran's name; all he could be bothered to remember were faces, and even those were indistinct, muddled by the passage of time, blurred between the living and the dead. All of the customers of his corner shop knew his name by the shop's title, but it was a one-sided transmission of information between individuals; the Turaga never got to know this shadows of persons who always vanished back into the busy streets. He took interest in them sometimes, but it never seemed to wise of an action; not that he ever did what the rest of the world considered wise. With a small sigh, he walked over to the store windows, and watched her walk away, disappearing farther into the indistinct horde with each step. The world outside the shop wasn't happy or particularly well-light, a dystopia of dark, muddy greys contrasted with stark neon. This had become more apparent to him in the past few months, as the darkness had enshrouded his life, but by no means had it not existed before. He had lived in this world of vague darkness for as long as he could remember, yet, it seemed, this was the first day he noticed the seams becoming undone.]

- The Commoners:

The average folk within the city, people whose lives are guided by a single manifesto: stay alive. Whether they’ve grown up within the lower levels, or are just discredited or banished citizens from the city above, all struggle in this age. Before the fighting started, things were looking much better for this group, though they’ve been hit the hardest by recent events.

[The sterile gray walls of Undercity Police Department reflected the electric light's dull shine with all of the energy and enthusiasm of a reposing corpse. Theft cases flew through the automatic steel doors on every few moments, greeted with a nod and a promise to attempt the recovery of the assorted lost possessions. The fluorescent light had masked a thousand disappointed, disillusioned faces in its brief lifetime, a legion of broken souls whose pleas were ignored or actively scorned. The Department wasn't particularly famous for its success rate or ability to please the citizens it pledged to protect; its reputation laid within its unnecessary violent measures and continually proclaimed lack of funding. A more lackluster enterprise was indeed hard to find. The particular discoverer of this fact, momentarily occupied with watching the fluorescent light blink and shudder in its insipid way, only heard the vapid apology of the Department official from across a sea of monotony. “We'll try our hardest to recover your money, Sir, but I'm afraid it's just impossible for us to find something so comparatively small in such a big city,” she paused in faked compassion, glancing at his vacant eyes. “I hope you understand we try our hardest.” He smiled in an equally tedious way. “Yes, I think I do.”]

- The Police:

A largely corrupt and failing institution. The Police Force of the Undercity is largely concerned with the Gangs, as well as with the foreign forces invading their territory. In the struggle to keep the place in one piece, “protect and serve” has become a well-nigh neglected virtue in favor of survival. They have access to somewhat more advanced technologies than most living in the city, but it is by no means modern.

[The stone foundations of the Undercity trembled and moaned as if in labor, convulsing and fissuring as its very heart was torn away. The ineffable was being called forth from the darkness and pain that filled the umbrageous recesses of the darkened streets; dreams and nightmares alike were congregating, converging to form an abomination of all things and yet nothing at all, as surreal and realistic as the hopes and fears of the city's inhabitants. The creation was formless, yet a paragon of physical proportions, indescribable beautiful in its unseeable terror. The paradox strode forth from the womb of madness, and advanced in silence upon the bustling streets, each step cracking the cement and asphalt. Death given form, a beautiful horror, stood and watched as the diminutive vehicles screeched and honked in surprise. The first vehicle disintegrated upon contact, becoming a cloud of sparks for the barest moment, and then vanishing; all others were hurled backwards at ungodly speed. Screams began to fill the unusually cold air, and the Daemon watched in utter serenity. For a moment, it simply stood in utter tranquility, and then stepped forward, plunging the entirety of the district into ineluctable darkness.]

The Demons

Creatures of the void, manifestations of the flickers within one’s vision, travelers of shadows; all are apt descriptions of the horrifying creatures that terrorize this city. Though they do not give much in terms of information. The creatures themselves vary greatly in form, size, abilities, and apparent function, while sharing common details among all.

They are biomechanical, similar to the species of the Matoran Universe in a twisted, eldritch way. Superficially, they seem to resemble the now-extinct Zyglak, with reptilian scaly skin covering their organic components, and dark, rusted mechanical portions. The range from bipedal and almost resembling Toa in terms of form, to huge, monstrous and Rahi-like. Then there are those that simply defy comparison with any known organism, those whose very form is enough to drive some insane. Intelligence-wise, some seem to be little more than Rahi, while others show an evil mind beyond comprehension.

Also similarly to Matoran Universe species, they possess powers that seem to be of an elemental nature, though dark reflections of those commonly known. Whatever the case, all seem to be focused upon the negative aspects of the world. The non-existence of substances rather than the creation of them Some simply pass through walls as if they’re not there, others are completely unaffected by injuries caused by conventional means, and a few have even been observed to be able to rip tears in the fabric of reality itself.

All have shown the ability to pass through shadows and reappear from another, using them as one might a door. In fact, this seem to be how they reach the City of Night. If there is a limit to this power no one has been able to find it.

(Creation of characters in this faction is off-limits initially, though the process of how to get one of these powerful creatures will be revealed very shortly.)

________________________________ ________________ ________ ____ __ _

For the convenience of those listening, I’ve made descriptions of the people I’ve encountered, who they were, what they looked like, where they’ve been. It’s far from complete, but perhaps history will remember their names better this way. I’ve also included a few of the… monsters… here. May they burn in Karz.

[“Do note, the following information was severely corrupted, and the damage looks to be intentional in some areas.”

“We have a team working on reconstructing the lost data. It is a slow process, however.”]

ForgottenUnfortunates.

Blank profile template here, things in [brackets] can be removed. Feel free to add and remove fields as needed, though Name, Appearance, Weaknesses, and Personality are required.

Name: [self-explanatory.]

Species: [Also gender and element where applicable.]

Affiliation: [Who is your character affiliated with? What faction do they fight for? Or are they unaffiliated?]

Powers: [Elemental, mask or otherwise.]

Gear: [Your character’s weapons and gadgets.]

Skills: [What is your character good at?]

Weaknesses: [What is your character bad at, what hurts them?]

Appearance: [What does your character look like?]

History: [What has happened to your character? What has their life been like? Are they a crimelord within this underworld? A member of a failing police force? A highly trained soldier from the city above? A monster of the unexplained?]

Personality‏: [Who is your character? What are their likes/dislikes? How do they act?]

Custom masks, species, powers, etc. will be approved on a case-by-case basis.

Profile Limitations: Obviously we don’t want any game-breaking elements like Life, Time etc. or any legendary or one-of-a-kind masks (Olisi, Olmak, Ignika etc.). The following masks are also banned for various reasons. Komau (Bunnying), Conjuring, Mohtrek (Godmodding), Elda, Clairvoyance (Metagaming). Some of the MU’s species are also out of the picture due to being grossly overpowered, namely Botar’s species, full-power Makuta, Krahka, Brutaka’s species, as well as anything else that’s blatantly overpowered.

Anything else is fair game as long as common sense is applied. However, if you make a pitch for one of these listed things, we will most certainly consider it.

Post profiles in the Discussion Topic for approval.

________________________________ ________________ ________ ____ __ _

LawsOfThe

Edited May 27, 2014 by Gravity

[Geardirector]

GM IC:

 

The Undercity was never quiet.

 

It was just the nature of the place, what with its upbeat nightlife, it's hectic pace and the oh so beautiful stench and decay of desperate living. The Undercity thrived with life; it rose and boiled in all its facets here, and a tense beat of desperation played endlessly throughout its rundown streets, unaffected by the eternal gloom.

 

Life was hand-to-mouth here, and based on merit. If there was ever a place where the phrase "you get out of life what you put into it" held more meaning, the people of the Undercity would have trouble believing you.

 

These people had to deal with the oppressors from above, the filth of the city itself, and the eldritch monstrosities that were now invading their shack-like excuse for a home. Please, go ahead and cry them a river.

 

Peace was... at best enforced successfully, and even that very rarely outside of The Expanse, where the judging finger pointed at the ceiling that made up the Police Station reminded everyone that they were being watched.

 

Sometimes even that wasn't enough, though.

 

It began with what a lot of things in the Undercity seemed to begin with... an explosion.

 

And a dirty, not-so-flashy and not-so-widespread explosion it was. Cutting corners was an extremely common practice in the Undercity.

 

Regardless, one of the criminal gangs in the Undercity could suddenly count themselves one Front for illegal activities short as shots were rampantly fired and two groups rapidly coalesced into opposing sides that spread out through the narrow street, barging into homes and covering behind merchant stands as they looked for fortifications where they could find them.

 

Another turf war had broken out, business as usual almost in the Undercity.

 

The sirens sounded, and the bystanders knew what was going to happen, the gangs and the Cops were going to tear the entire street asunder. Many took to their feet and fled, those who couldn't covered in their crumbling homes.

 

The gangs were suddenly met with a swift and brutal assault that drove them from the upper third of the street with blood drawn on the sidewalk. As the Officers filed in and did what the Gang members had done earlier, the three-pronged conflict over a disproportionately tiny and narrow street reached a boiling point.

 

And all Karz broke loose.

 

OOC: Alright, Street fight between Police and two gangs, free-for-all demolition derby where it's all three sides against each other. Feel free to join either side, and first players to create gang leaders gets to control the factions for the rest of the game.

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

OOC: Alright, Street fight between Police and two gangs, free-for-all demolition derby where it's all three sides against each other. Feel free to join either side, and first players to create gang leaders gets to control the factions for the rest of the game.

 

OOC: That offer does sound incredibly tempting... in fact, I might even have a back-up of that time. But alas, I'm far too afraid of commitment to jump on that train so early on. Nay, I shall instead take to simply enjoying the show.

 

Hmm... a simple gang fight? Perfect introduction, then, for this character to make his debut.

 

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Gang Fight

 

Wolves were not a common sight in the Undercity. Indeed, save for the menageries of the upper city, and the ancient paintings which hung in the starlight above, there were no wolves left in this technological marvels. Dogs, on the other hand, were frequent. The prized Hapaka hounds of the nobles up above; their mangy, ill-bred relatives which occasionally scavenged the city below. More than common dogs, the most ferocious were those who were actually men. The gangs, coyotes to pick at the scraps stilling clinging to the carcass of the city. The Enforcers, the hyenas, cracking the metallic bones of its inhabitants under their vise-like grip in a desperate attempt to cling on. The police, the few remaining hounds attempting to herd the sheep; the people of the city below.

 

Indeed, dogs were a very common sight in the city. One couldn't throw a stone without hitting one, or calling it to you. Yet among these dogs, there stood one unlike any other - the last remaining Wolf of the Undercity; Romaln, One-Eyed Warrior, Champion of His Tribe, Hero of His People, Hunter of the Starlight Crown, Holder of the Howling Scepter, Wolf of the White Mountain... the last Wolf in the City of Dogs.

 

Around him, the ankle-biters swarmed into a frenzy. The coyotes, in their fits of starvation, were attacking each other in desperation and rage. The hounds, as always, were drawn to their noise; in this, Romaln could see no point. Let the coyotes fight among each other - the hyenas would arrive soon enough. Yet for reasons beyond what the rational aspects of his mind could comprehend, the old wolf, once merely a passerby, realized that he was soon to become part of the conflict.

 

With surprisingly quiet speed for a person of his unusual stature, he came behind the barricades where the police had stationed themselves. He could pinpoint any individuals who he personally knew - not yet, anyways - but he was certain that they would show up soon enough. Those in authority seeking out excitement was all too common a practice among this force, in contrast to the laziness which dominated the rest of the Enforcers (at least, when there was no beating to be done). After getting a good look in the area, he stepped back,as a small group of policemen came in.

 

"Listen, you lot." he ordered, calling their attention as he pointed his finger. While he had never seen this group before - they looked quite green - he was almost certain by the way they looked at him that they knew he was. Most did. The direction he pointed changed to the roof up above, a few explosions thrown around by gang members had already left rubble. He gave his command; "Get up there, and use the rubble as cover. More importantly, provide cover. No sense losing lives because the gangs took us out from the rooftop."

 

The group moved out immediately. A tingling in his back suggested that at least one or two police sergeants and officers were casting a judgmental gaze, but none would do anything about it. Who were they, simple police workers of the under class, to question a man from the time before time; to question a warrior of the Enforcers, who with a snap of his finger could see them court marshaled by some fill-in, well-to-do judge?

 

Howling Scepter in hand, he came up near one of the pillars on the left side, just at the edge of the police barrier; something to provide him cover, but to allow him to remain standing. Not that he hadn't been shot before, of course; he simply didn't want to deal with that issue at the moment. Peaking out, he spotted one of the gang members off to the right, a small glass jar in hand. The Scepter was raised, and as the gangster lined up his shot, Romaln released its powerful cry. The Wolf's cry carried across the battlefield, though not all could hear it over the sounds of battle; of those who did, the old Hero swore he spotted a few of the gangsters making quick escapes from the battlefield. If his continued survival was not proof enough, a professional record would suffice - never had he lost a fight here in the city below. And they knew it.

 

The gangster whose misfortune was to be his target would find no such luck. The cone of howling noise ripped through his body, vibrating his very being to the core. The jar in his hand shattered, spilling the oil contained within onto the floor and nearly causing him to slip. That was the least of his worries; just as the ground turned black, so too were his knees, which made the immediate plunge to the ground, followed quite quickly by the rest of him. He lay there on the floor, a quivering mass with his hands clasped to his still-ringing ears.

 

Romaln drew back his weapon, satisfied, as he continued his scans of both the battlefield and the police force, wishing to see who else would show up.

 

IC: Vailarin / The Undercity / [bar Awaiting Name]

 

As the sounds of battles rang elsewhere in the Undercity, another, more pleasant sound drifted through an old, Undercity bar; a highly frequented one, keep mind, and quite popular. Naturally, that often met great stories to listen for, and even greater stories to tell. It was not a story of the Undercity which she spoke today, of course. No, today her performance was a sitting one, and she did it surrounded by a small cluster of children and drunks, with the rest listening afar more for the music than the words. No small surprise, considering that the song was preceded by quite a lengthy instrumental piece.

 

"In the time before time, when the Gukko still flied,

And the sky was still bright up above.

A darkness did come, led by the Evil One;

Makuta who shattered their dreams.

 

The Great Spirit slept; the Turaga they wept,

For Matoran there was no more hope.

Until waves on the shore, opening heavens door,

Brought them the heroes they' long waited for."

 

This next section of the song was her favorite part, of course. Her fingers, before quite calm in their playing to keep a more bardic tune, now sped up, began to pick up.

 

"With wisdom and valor they bested the dark,

Time bent to their hands; fire raged in their hearts,

They would defend us from Makuta's dark gaze,

Up until the day, when the seventh one came."

 

"The Toa of Light with purest of souls,

Who chronicled stories, whose spirit was bold,

Stood up to Makuta on that fateful day,

And finally for his evil did he pay."

 

The battle completed, she gradually made her return to the earlier speed, tune, and verse structure. There was a reason, of course, why she found the story of Takanuva so compelling. Once nothing more than a simple Matoran, scraping by in a place where life was constantly at risk, and doing so by the collection, recording, and telling of stories. Someone not, she thought, much unlike herself. Up until the point where he found himself to be the ultimate weapon against the Makuta and one of the greatest heroes of the age, though one few in the Undercity would recognize by name.

 

"The Island was saved, the heroes were praised,

But this tale would not be the end of their days.

The Great Spirit slept, and while no more they wept,

There adventure was not finished... yet."

 

Finishing off the song, she stood and gave a bow to her audience. The young around her were the first to give applause, though others around soon followed. As the urchins began scampering off, one of them slapping another on the hand for reaching towards the tip box (the best she could hope for from those without). A few small coins were tossed in, and she gave thanks to each one.

 

"Why're you all clapping? That's a load of Kane-wash, that one." one of the Matoran patrons finally vocalized. Vailarin quickly turned to him, asking with a mixture of (exaggerated) surprise and (supressed) irritation, "I beg your pardon, good sir? Was there an issue with the performance?"

 

"No, not that. It's that Karz'd song you're singing!" he said. His voice was slurring; he had obviously drank too much. "When's the last time a Karz'd toa ever did anything for one of us? The majority of that lost stay up in the Overcity, lording over us like a bunch of... like a bunch of lords, that's what! And for every one of them that is protectin' us, how many are in the gangs? Or worse, the Enforcers. And you should know as well as any of us what that lot will -"

 

"I think you've had a bit much to drink, sir." Vailarin said, in a perfectly tuned blend of politeness and sarcasm. Approaching him, she said, "It would be best if I were to take you out of here."

 

"What? I ain't that drunk - hey, watch it!"

 

While Vailarin certainly wasn't a warrior, or of any great physical aptitude, she was at least half a Bio taller than the Matoran. Once she had her hand wrapped around his arm, getting him to the door and out wasn't very difficult. Whatever happened to him out in the streets was not her fault; though, based on the jingling of his pockets, and the number of urchins roaming about, she already knew that a repeat of today's song would be in good faith. The urchins were always good listeners, and a windfall like today might even bring some of the coins he had held out on all the way around.

 

As she returned to her table to check the tips, she thought more on the story of Takua. While she doubted sincerely that she would be suddenly granted the power of the sun to fight off some terrible evil in a sports match, the earlier part of his tale - as the chronicle to the Toa Nuva - was something which she longed for. Not necessarily that role, of course; she simply wanted to be there to tell the story of heroes. Not that heroes were in abundance today - the drunk, for his part, was right. The word "Toa" once meant hero; now, it simply meant "tall Matoran with the power to cause unusual amounts of property damage."

 

Maybe one day, something would change. Maybe one day, she would be given her chance to record her own chronicle.

 

OOC: Vailarin and Romaln are both open for interaction.

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

Edited May 28, 2014 by Toa Levacius Zehvor

[Constructelf]

IC Vynsehnt

Situation: FUBAR. This was the biggest gang fight in a while, and the force that had been deployed showed it. I fired a rhotuka from his spinner and watched it quickly turn into an energy shield, using it as an opportunity to find new cover. What was this even about? Oh right, moronic gang business. Perfect. No chance for negotiations, or otherwise I wouldn't even be here.

 

"Got to admit, this sure beats fighting those demon-thingymajigs." I kicked a nearby gangster in the groin, drew my sword, and gave him something to remember me by. Gotta admit, I hadn't been in this mood for long time. Not since falling into that ditch and splitting my head open. Ack, now my head's hurting. shouldn't have thought of that.

 

... For those Ce-Toa who are currently reading my thoughts, let me clear up something. You all know me as some dark, brooding, killing machine, don't you? Well, contrary to what some people may say, I wasn't always like that. Sure, I was still an emotionless monster, but at least I made a few jokes. Not anymore. Now, I only say what I absolutely must say (and by absolutely must, I mean I would literally explode if I didn't say it). Bleeding out in the slums and getting who knows what drilled into my body... Let's say it changed my perspective on things. On my head though, I'm still deadpan snarker supreme. Sorry if I threw a few of you guys off.

 

Oh hey look, its Romaln. Hi Romaln! (Of course, I didn't say that aloud. Haven't changed a bit since I last saw you, huh? And thank you very much, I learned how to use the rubble as cover before I joined the Enforcers (I was into airsoft as a kid). Oh well. At least he gets his job done. He's definitely worth more than ten of our guys (that's a compliment by the way, if you didn't catch that). Oh look! More gangsters! And they're shooting at us for no reason! Another rhotuka sent out, and I sheath my sword, and draw my pistol.

 

"... I require a better gun."

 

OOC ... That turned out completely differently than what I planned. I guess he needs a personality overhaul.

[sonyaxe]

IC: Zaak / The Undercity / Gang Fight

 

Zaak sprinted over the rooftops, attracted to the sound of fighting. He heard the reports from other officers, and it sounded like an absolute Karz-fest had broken out in only a few seconds.

 

Upon arriving at the scene of the battle, he was at first shocked to see that such a huge fight had broken out. He quickly jumped down from the building near a collapsed structure. Zaak heard muffled noises from inside. Without a second thought, he grabbed his weapon from his back and sliced a stone slab that was on top of whoever was down there to rubble. Before the dust even cleared, his hand reached down into the space, grabbing a trembling Matoran by the arm and pulling him from the hole.

 

"Run! It's not safe here!" Zaak ordered the Matoran, who quickly nodded his head and bolted down a back alley. Before he had even vanished from sight, Zaak turned around towards the main battle. Doing a quick scan, the Toa was a bit surprised to see Romain there, along with a few more familiar faces. He realized that not only was he in an open area, but also had a possibility of being surrounded by gang members. He vaulted back to the roof using a combination of fallen rubble and convenient cracks in the wall, then took off running, shooting a few blasts of plasma into the highest concentrations of gang members while jumping between rooftops towards the police position. Luckily, he wasn't far, and he quickly reached a rooftop above a Police-manned barricade. Executing a perfect frontflip, he landed in a shoulder role (very difficult to do with his choice of weapon) and came up running. His mind, detached, already determining which opponent should be fought first, barely noticed as he sprinted past Romain. Seconds later, staff spinning so quickly it was a blur in his hands, Zaak vaulted the barricade and joined the fight. The first unfortunate gang member to meet his whirling blades only saw a flash of silver before his head rolled away from his body. He continued on, the spin of his staff undiminished by the encounter, seeking another opponent to fight.

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Gang Fight

 

And now the more experienced warriors were coming in. He watched Zaak clear the barricade, and gave a slight shake of his head. Melee combatant or not, Toa or not, a direct plunge into a firefight was just asking for trouble. Not that he was one to speak; the more folks over the line, the more he considered joining them. In truth, there was a deep fear hiding just under the surface that his combat aptitude just wouldn't be enough to deal with this anymore. The embarrassment of being bested by some gang member would ruin him.

 

Perhaps he could simply get some enhancements? It seemed to suit Vynsehnt fine. Now he was an odd one - someone from the uppercity turned to common police work. Once a full-blown Enforcer, now just another cop. Was he so different, though? By all rights, Romaln belonged up in the Lock, with the other Enforcers. No... no, by all rights, they belonged down here with him. Enforcing the city. Keeping to the law. This battle; this... outrage. It should not be permitted.

 

A few more sonic blasts echoed from his Scepter as he gave into his thoughts; after all, blasting gangsters wasn't the most mentally stimulating experience. Those thoughts were quickly interrupted by a howl of anger as one of the windows on the building to his left was suddenly shattered open, and a howling Glatorian thug came lunging out, knives in hand as he made a lunge. Unfortunately for him, his adversary was not as slow as he looked; moving with the reflexes of a master warrior, Romaln gave an uppercut with his Scepter that struck the Glatorian in the jaw, shooting him up a few inches and causing him to drop. The intense pain of the maces power shot through his victim, who was left writhing in pain on the floor.

 

"Assaulting an Enforcer is a capital offense." he said blandly as he swung his weapon down, shattering the Glatorian's face and leaving him a bloodied mess on the floor. Quickly, he returned to his height and got another examination of the field. The urge to plunge into the heated melee that some of his fellows were taking up was a strong one, but he held off. Better irritable than dead.

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[NorikSigma]

IC: [Horic]-[undercity]-[battle at Intersection AA-37-B]

 

It was as close to a normal day as you could get in the Undercity. The perpetual odour of dirt, grime and sweat that built the Undercity, and the smell of gunpowder from a heist the day before.

 

Then the explosion happened.

 

Horic snapped out of a conversation with a new member. He turned and saw that Handel's Pawn Shop, one of the Darkblades' fronts, had exploded.

 

"Darkblades, to arms!" The veteran roared. And not a moment too soon.

 

A swarm of miscreants spilled into the alleyway, evidently a gang trying to carve a piece of the Darkblades' turf.

 

From the other end of the alley armed and ready Darkblades charged out and shot fireballs, fired bullets and flung Madu Cobolo Fruit.

 

Horic had barely drawn his Battleaxe when the two sides clashed. Bodies burned, flung and chopped up as Horic charged into the melee. He formed a large iron barrier to cut off the two sides. Other Iron Toa joined in and they pushed the barrier along with their elemental powers to literally push the interlopers back into the street intersection.

 

"Snipers!"

 

Vortixx snipers on the corrugated rooftops started laying down covering fire for the invaders.

 

Horic fired Rhotuka spinners at them while others joined in.

 

"Just a little more! Once we push them onto the intersection-"

 

Then the Police arrived.

 

Stupid busybodies. They have the time to bust a brawl but not enough to help stop robberies.

 

In Horic's mind the Police of the Undercity were nothing more than a poorly-run gang with the backing of the Upper City.

 

The leader of the Darkblades shouted,

 

"Rally on me! We'll-"

 

But the chaos had taken over. The Assault Teams of the police charged and broke the melee, dispersing the malcontent down the street.

 

In the ensuing three-way war, screaming howl caught Horic's ear.

 

Heart filled with apprehension, the warrior turned and saw him.

 

The Wolf.

 

The enigmatic Enforcer was currently bombarding a Darkblades with massive sound waves. As he watched, the gangster fell onto his knees in agony, while Romain shattered the jaw of another.

 

But Horic couldn't turn to him yet. An extremely agile Toa of Plasma was heading his way.

 

Horic fired one of his confusion Rhotuka spinners at him (Zaak). Horic unslung his Battleaxe and charged at him.

[sonyaxe]

IC: Zaak

 

Zack, upon hearing the distinctive hum of a Rhotuka spinner getting quickly louder, preformed a low sweeping kick, tripping up his current opponent just enough to knock him into the path of the incoming spinner. It hit Zaak's opponent directly in the chest. Zack noted that the victim seemed to look around confused before he was stabbed in the chest. Turning in the direction of the offending spinner, Zaak was met with a most unpleasant sight. Barreling towards him, battleaxe in hand, was an orange Toa of Iron that Zaak recognized as Horic, a new leader of one of the myriad of gangs that plagued the Undercity. Settling in a defensive stance, the Toa spun his staff rapidly in both hands, gaining momentum for a succession of quick strikes at the start of the battle. The gang members, seeing this obvious challenge by/to their leader, quickly moved away in a rough circle, some to watch the fight and some to avoid any collateral damage that could be caused by the ensuing clash.

 

OOC: I assume that the gang members move away in a circle thing is okay, right?

Edited May 28, 2014 by sonyaxe

[Geardirector]

IC: Zorvon (Intersection AA-37-B)

 

What no one probably expected was for a sudden stream of white glowing Rhotuka to sail over their heads and incapacitate Horic's Fe-Toa corps, barring himself. They stood there, completely still, like time had frozen just for them.

 

When Zorvon stepped out of a nearby alley, the Officers felt their spirits brighten substantially, the Chief was here, he was going to pull them through.

 

Zorvon ducked behind cover to avoid retaliation from some of the gang members and got back behind the police barricade. He stood still, observing the situation carefully as he got a fix on who was who and what the stakes were. He saw that someone had already begun giving his men orders, an enforcer from the Upper City of some renown as a ruthless arbiter to the commoners down here, Zorvon visibly frowned as he walked past him.

 

"Zaak..." he muttered in disbelief as he saw him engage Horic all by himself. Foolish beyond compare to rush into the hornet's nest like that.

 

"You!" he called to a nearby Ba-Toa officer, "get him out of there, now, we'll cover you"

 

"You heard that men, covering fire" he followed up to the rest as the Ba-Toa lined up to get a good view of Zaak.

Edited May 28, 2014 by Gyro Gearloose

[NorikSigma]

OOC: @sonyaxe I suppose so. Might have to discipline the boys later.

 

IC: [Horic]-[The Undercity]-[slugfest at Intersection AA-37-B]

Horic cursed under his breath. The Iron Toa were frozen, and his other members were too busy assaulting the Police over the barrier or watching.

 

"What are you waiting for, you dimwits?! Take our brothers and sisters," pointing at the frozen Toa, "back to safety and continue fighting!"

 

His Lieutenant hurried up for orders.

 

"Bring 'em back to the safepoint. Keep the Police occupied and disperse the invaders, whichever Karz-stupid gang they are, through the buildings."

 

The Water Glatorian nodded and screamed orders at the Sergeants, who in turn screamed orders to the other gangsters, who screamed orders at each other.

 

Horic turned to the nimble Toa and shot two confusiom spinners before materialising some metal dust in his left palm.

 

Horic charged at the Toa with his Battleaxe.

[Geardirector]

IC: Zorvon (Intersection AA-37-B)

 

"FIRE" Zorvon bellowed, and in a flurry of energy wheels, muzzle flashes and spring traps a squadron of projectiles where launched at the criminal myriad surrounding Zaak and Horic. The unified blast would most likely hamper the criminals for a few moments.

 

"NOW, DO IT NOW" Zorvon bellowed again once their fire had settled at the Ba-Toa, and the Officer followed orders and uses his powers to drag Zaak to them away from the battle and back to safety.

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Intersection AA-37-B]

 

Behind the police barricade, a screech could be heard as a motorbike skidded to a halt, the visor-wearing driver quickly dismounting from the vehicle and running towards where his fellow police officers were stationed. A sleek and agile Toa of Stone, the young policeman was slightly shorter than the average being of his species, but with the ridiculously tall people that were now rather common, he seemed quite small in comparison.

 

"Apologies for the tardiness," said Naona, flicking his visor upwards as he moved towards the Police Chief. "Sir, what is the situation?"

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Gang Fight

 

Good, the chief was finally here. Though in this case, "finally" meant "inevitably"; Zorvon was always getting himself involved in these kinds of situations, when by all rights he would be much safer working behind the desk like those in the Enforcers. More than that, his presence was of great aid; while Romaln had the advantage of intimidation in simply giving commands, Zorvon was one they followed out of a love. Not an alpha wolf, but the trainer of the hounds.

 

Not that he did it on his own, of course. Romaln had read the dossier on Zorvon that the Enforcers kept before coming down here, and made note of his abilities. While not confirmed, most suspected him to be using Charisma or some ability to help bolster that "inspiration" that he made use of; he certainly had never been seen using any other mask abilities, after all. Privately, Romaln sometimes wondered if he might simply be keeping such a power in reserve; certainly, he himself had once been a leader of Glatorian back on Bota-Magna. Unlike the other Enforcers, Romaln was perhaps a little more willing to accept that someone could simply be an inspiration to others. Even the hounds.

 

Still, he always kept cautious talking to that one. Monitoring ones thoughts is vital when dealing with anyone suspected of mind-alteration, after all.

 

Stepping out now from behind cover, but keeping his head slightly turned to lower the possible exposure to his otherwise exposed face (the one part he really, really didn't want to take any more hits), he raised his Howling Scepter and aimed it forwards, into the growing chaos and clouds of dust. If Zaak was being recalled, it was likely Zorvon had plans for some sort of blast in preparation. One he really didn't want to be caught in the middle of. Instead, he released a sweep of sonic energy. This time, there would be no question of the Wolf's howl.

 

The problem with the Scepter was that it never killed. Sure, he could do terrible things by crushing someone with it, and enough exposure could leave someone a gibbering mass, but on its own it never killed. Ears made bleed; victims lie on the ground. That was the situation now. As he covered the field of any gangsters not smart enough to hit the ground in complete cover, he left a trail of victims grasping their ears and screaming in pain. Unlike the last one, he was keeping to very short contact; enough to stun them, but not to immediately ground them. Standing targets are easier for the others to shoot.

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[sonyaxe]

IC: Zaak

 

Zaak twisted between the two spinners, continuing to analyze his opponent as he searched for any weaknesses or flaws to exploit, before his eyes wandered to the floor, looking for anything to trip over. Zaak's eyes landed on a certain body, one with an unusual mask and armor combination. His mind flashed back to his time before the police force, back when he still taught self-defense...

 

OOC: Don't have italics because I am using a phone, so enter flashback sequence...

 

IC: "Don't make this any harder than it needs to be." Zaak glanced around, worried. He was cornered, backed against the wall of an alley, and his assailents had a gun. While Zaak was confident he could take them, but the possible repercussions disturbed him however, he wasn't going to just back down.

 

"Look, I don't want any trouble," Zaak tried to smooth over the situation.

 

"Some martial arts freak from your class killed a member of our gang! Everyone you teach or have taught in the past is a possible threat to us, which much be removed. Starting with you." The rusty armored Glatorian brought up his firearm to shoot, only to find that he and his allies were knocked to the ground as the plasma Toa sprinted for his home. Upon reaching it, he found his dojo and attached home ablaze. Resisting the urge to fall to his knees and sob, Zaak ran up te street to try to catch whoever had done this. He saw a Toa running away, with a very unusual armor and mask combination. With a wild yell, Zaak let loose a plasma bolt at the precise moment the fleeing arsonist turned, melting part of his mask and torso. Before he could continue to give chase however, Zaak felt a strong blow to the base of his neck and everything faded to black...

 

OOC: End flashback

 

IC: Zaak took another half second to make sure of what he was seeing, and made out te hints of melted armor residue on the fallen figure's old armor. There was no mistaking this. The Shadowblades were the gang that had destroyed his old life. He expexted to feel fear, maybe anger, but what settled on him was the weight of despair. He felt himelf be pulled away from the battle, flying back across the street to the police-held position. He wanted to sigh, or rage, or just break down, but what happened was far from any of those.

 

"That was them... They... They were responsible for that..." His mutterings were cut short by the magnetic pull lessening, causing him to drop bodily to the ground. He picked himself up with a blank stare on his face, trying to simoultaneously keep control of his emerging anger and break out of the sudden feeling of hopelesness that threatened to break him down.

[Geardirector]

IC: Zorvon (Intersection AA-37-B)

 

Zorvon refrained from commenting on Naona's entrance, nodding briefly to acknowledge his apology.

 

"We've got two gangs slugging it out, another turf war it's looking like"

 

He then turned to the Su-Toa that'd been dragged from the battlefield and behind the barricade, and his eyes turned hard.

 

"You ought to know better than to charge into a mass of outlaws like that, Zaak. I'll be seeing you in my office later"

 

"Alright, Naona" he said, turning to the Po-Toa, "find some able-bodied men to accompany you, and lead the way back out of the street and go from the sides, with your powers you can make a path where there is none and surprise them, provided you bring an Iron elemental as well. Hit-and-run only, don't stay anywhere long. You got that?"

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Intersection AA-37-B]

 

"Yes sir," he replied.

 

Naona quickly turned to face some of his fellow officers. "Anyone who wants to volunteer, follow me."

Edited May 28, 2014 by Fabulous Sunshine

[Constructelf]

IC Vynsehnt

Well, what was this? Hit and run? Weren't we doing that already? Still, I could use a group to stick to. "... I'll go." I said to the toa of stone that had arrived... Come to think of it, did that knock on the head affect my ability to talk?

[NorikSigma]

IC: Horic - [intersection AA-37-B]

 

Horic surveyed the situation as Zaak was pulled away and Romaln's sonic assault continued. The police were probably going to send in an attack over the barrier very soon, so leaving the other gang out here would be a priority.

 

But the civilians...

 

"Pago, what happened to the injured civilians, are they-"

 

"Safe, Horic. We brought them and the frozen Toa away deeper into our territory. The rest are holed up in their homes."

 

Horic nodded at his Lieutenant's words.

 

"We're leaving. No sense in continuing this fight. The police might attack again, and I don't think we have the firepower to withstand them. Might as well let the other gang take the brunt of the assault.

 

"Darkblades, retreat! We're pulling out now. You, you and you, follow me. We're protecting the retreat."

 

OOC: With reference to the map in the Discussion topic, we're retreating to the top of the map through the buildings.

[Constructelf]

IC Vynsehnt

"... Sir. Darkblades are retreating. Should we pursue, or clean up the other gang?"

 

Man, I wish I could talk like I used to.

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Gang Fight

 

"Unless another brawl is the goal of this escapade," the Wolf said, give a curt nod to Vynsehnt as he walked over to where Zorvon was, "You'd do well to send a scout or two to pursue the jackals while the rest remain here. Otherwise, these same gangs are likely to go at it again."

 

He quickly turned back to the field and gave another sonic blast, delivering a direct strike to the back of one of the fleeing Darkblade soldiers who was attempting to cross the street; one he caught just out of the corner of his good eye. "Of course, some of the incapacitated might prove useful for interrogation, if you'd prefer that way. Oh, and greetings, Chief."

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Intersection AA-37-B]

 

"I recommend we ensure the safety of the civilians first."

[NorikSigma]

IC: [Horic]-[intersection AA-37-B]

 

"You three, scatter the other gang then return here."

 

Horic mentally erected an iron barrier to cover the soldier who just fell to Romaln. Horic dragged him off, shouting,

 

"The cowards aren't attacking, check the nearby buildings for any civilians we missed. Pago, can you help me with this soldier?" Horic let Pago take the injured soldier while he showed terrified citizens the way out of the hellhole.

 

"Anyone hurts the civilians, and they are getting personal punishment from me."

 

"Understood , sir."

 

Horic looked towards the Police.

 

"Cowering behind the barricades while civilians need your help? Typical," he scowled at the uniformed wall from the middle of the road.

 

OOC: 1 v 1 combat anyone? :3

Edited May 29, 2014 by Just Norik

[Constructelf]

IC Vynsehnt

"... You are... You are... ... ... Go away

... ... Disturbance... ... ... ... You are in violation... Of... Section 45..." As usual, I could not find the words with which to speak. I turned to Naona and said: "... I concur. Evacuate... Area... Remove complications... Get citizens to... Safety..." I turned to the gang leader who had shown himself. "... Leave."

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Intersection AA-37-B]

 

Naona held a hand up to silence his fellow guard, who seemed to be speaking quite strangely as of late. His eyes were trained on the gang leader, body tensed to move at any moment.

 

"Your conflict was responsible for endangering them," said the visor-wearing Toa of Stone. "There is little you can say that does not serve as hypocrisy.

 

He leapt over the barricade. It was safer than before, now with the uneasy stalemate between their forces. Naona knew that battle could erupt at any time, but he would take this risk, even if it meant angering the Chief. People preferred to be addressed in a more personal manner, rather than having a mass of faceless officers hanging behind protection.

 

"Vynsehnt," he called off-handedly. "Take a detachment of your own to assist in the evacuation. Do not attack the gangsters unless you are attacked first."

 

"Now, Mr. Horic - what exactly do you want?"

[Constructelf]

IC Vynsehnt

"... Sir, yes sir. You guys there... Come with me." Gesturing to a group of policemen-three more lightly armed for better nobility, and two heavily armed in case of emergency, I ran off, with the officers following me.

 

***************************************

 

"... You're alright." I was trying to comfort a Matoran i had pulled out of the rubble, with my fellow officers pulling out more Matoran as well as some Agori. "Shelter is that way... Go now." The citizens in better condition headed off in the direction I had pointed, while the more injured ones were being treated for their wounds. "Call for... Ambulance," I ordered the police officer with the better working comm.

 

EDIT ooc gah, completely forgot about first person

Edited May 29, 2014 by Last Son Amakusa

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Gang Fight

 

Oh, he heard that one, loud and clear. Romaln turned and looked down the road at Horic, who was apparently presenting himself to the police. Never a good idea... though he didn't exactly have much to fear. When one is a Toa of Iron, as Horic's dossier clearly stated, one needs not fear weapons of metal. Especially those used by they who are, themselves, made mostly of metal.

 

Before he could make a move to the barricade, however, one of the police had already made his move. As Nanoa went over the barricade, he watched carefully for a few moments, scanning the area. The Darkblades, it seemed, were in fact clearing out. Which left the other gang still holding strong - but not for long, he figured. After all, once their enemy left, they would no doubt flee as well.

 

Without a word, he walked away from the barricade through the shattered window that the one thug had leapt through. As he walked through the building, he looked around and saw a pair of civilians clinging to each other. A grim thought passed his mind - the Darkblades, irritating as they could be, were a lesser menace among the gangs. Lawbreakers though they were, this situation alone showed that, at least ideologically, they were not far off. Their adversary, on the other hand... he doubted severely that such a concern was held by them.

 

He passed through the backdoor to the alley behind the street. A few of the Darkblades were running back here; immediately upon spotting him, they ran the opposite direction. At the moment, they were not his major concern, and he continued walking down the alley - keeping to the shadows - with little fear of retribution from his fleeing enemy. Still, without any support, he would need to be careful to avoid getting into anything he couldn't avoid.

 

Two buildings passed safely, he watched as the back door of this last one was suddenly kicked open, and one of those thugs from the other gang quickly ran out, apparently attempting to pursue one of the fleeing Darkblades - unfortunately, his path led right into Romaln, who jabbed the man with his Scepter. There was a quick scream, following by a quivering mass. He entered the building, closing the door behind him.

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

Edited May 29, 2014 by Toa Levacius Zehvor

[NorikSigma]

OOC: ...

Is Vynsehnt high or something.

 

IC: [Horic]-[intersection AA-37-B]

 

"We didn't start this fight. The invaders," Horic waved at the retreating invading gang, "did."

 

"Now what do I want? Now that the attackers are repelled, I wish to see the citizens safe. Since you all have obviously more resources, which you have seen fit to use only now, it would be wiser to... Yield this street to you. Evidently, I was too harsh in my judgment of this group of Police.

 

"I suggest we stop the fighting now. No sense in continuing to endanger any more civilians."

Edited May 29, 2014 by Just Norik

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [intersection AA-37-B]

 

"Understandable," said Naona. "Any Water Toa, move to end the fires!"

[NorikSigma]

IC: Horic

"We already have some," Horic said as he directed Toa of For to absorb the flames and Toa of Water to help put out the rest.

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Gang Fight

 

The other gang seemed to be getting the idea. The Darkblades and police negotiating... the police being here, chief and all.... the Wolf, who had mysteriously vanished. And the only thing more dangerous than the Wolf you can see is the one which you cannot; the one which is stalking you.

 

For those members of the gang not wise enough to have fled, a different danger was now present. In this situation, three doors down was not a band made up of young Glatorian boys; here, it was the exact distance he had to move from his location at the edge of the police barricade to step out and begin striking out at the second gave. The Howling Scepter screamed as he gave the field before him a slow sweep; slow, but with enough of a surprise advantage to strike down a number of targets before the gang even had a chance to react. Faced with foes from more than just one side - and the number of police snipers up above - more of them seemed to be fleeing by the moment.

 

To his surprise, one of the Great Being cursed group actually managed to pull off a shot. The Wolf staggered slightly as the impact of a bullet struck his armor, but it had not penetrated; some damage to the armor, but no harm to his skin. He turned in the direction of the shot to see its source now staring wide-eyed in terror, hands trembling - people tend to die when shot in the chest, after all. There would be such victory for him; the Scepter was now directed in his direction, and in only a few moments, his mask was directed down to the floor.

 

Perhaps later, when the pain receded, he would find comfort in the fact that this provided a number of his compatriots a chance to escape.

 

OOC: And then a Demon showed up and we all died. The end.

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[Geardirector]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Gang Fight

 

"Unless another brawl is the goal of this escapade," the Wolf said, give a curt nod to Vynsehnt as he walked over to where Zorvon was, "You'd do well to send a scout or two to pursue the jackals while the rest remain here. Otherwise, these same gangs are likely to go at it again."

 

He quickly turned back to the field and gave another sonic blast, delivering a direct strike to the back of one of the fleeing Darkblade soldiers who was attempting to cross the street; one he caught just out of the corner of his good eye. "Of course, some of the incapacitated might prove useful for interrogation, if you'd prefer that way. Oh, and greetings, Chief."

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

 

 

IC: Naona [undercity: Intersection AA-37-B]

 

"I recommend we ensure the safety of the civilians first."

 

OOC: ...

Is Vynsehnt high or something.

 

IC: [Horic]-[intersection AA-37-B]

 

"I suggest we stop the fighting now. No sense in continuing to endanger any more civilians."

 

IC: Zorvon (Intersection AA-37-B)

 

"Very well. Ice and Water users; put out those fires, anyone with a Mask of Healing step up so you're ready for when the wounded need you."

 

"Enforcer Romaln" he acknowledged the Glatorian with a quick nod.

 

Toa, Skakdi and even the odd Turaga or two spread out, contributing their powers to quelling the chaos as the wounded were removed from the buildings and attended to. Zorvon crossed eyes with Horic, and shot the Fe-Toa a look.

 

"None of this would've happened in the first place if you weren't breaking the law" he said, throwing the power of the mask behind his words.

 

In Horic's ears, anything Zorvon said would start to make sense somehow.

[NorikSigma]

IC: Horic

A strange feeling of passive understanding washed over the Iron Toa.

 

"Yes I suppose so. We didn't have to-"

 

S-Stop. He's using his mask to convince you.

 

But mask or not, he's right isn't he?

 

No well, I mean err-

 

Horic shook his head clear.

 

"We-we didn't mean to, breaking he law..."

 

Horic quickly turned away from the Toa. Something was terribly wrong.

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona

 

"Not very subtle, are you?" whispered Naona to his Chief.

[NorikSigma]

IC: Horic

Horic turned back to look at Zorvon.

 

Looks like an adapted Hau... Or a mask of Charisma.

 

Surely it can't-

 

Shut up.

 

Horic turned back to the burning building to help some civilians out.

 

OOC: So... Timeskip to end of fire?

[AuRon the champion]

Ic:

 

Bolt, who was delivering messages and not involved with any of this, needed someone to insult.

 

Ooc: bolt, open to do stuff

[sonyaxe]

IC: Zaak

 

Zaak calmed himself with a few deep breathing excersises, before stuffing his emotions into the back of his mind. He replaced his staff to its place on his back, before going to stand near the barricade. He couldn't help with putting out fires, so he decided to wait by the barricade, watching the clean up proceed.

[Geardirector]

IC: Zorvon (Intersection-AA-37-B)

 

"Subtelty's rarely gotten the job done" Zorvon replied as he brushed past, disappearing to another group of Officers that'd asked for his attention.

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Intersection AA-37-B]

 

"Aye chief," muttered Naona, the Toa of Stone moving off to help out with the evacuation while the gang was still somewhat neutralised.

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

OOC: I just realized I've been using the wrong color for Romaln in every post except the first one. >_<

 

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Gang Fight

 

As the others began their aid of the civilians, Romaln took to a directive more fitting to an Enforcer; began the unpleasant work of delivering strong-armed blows to the heads of the temporarily incapacitated gang members; not enough to kill them, but enough to knock them out so they could be taken into custody. The dead, he verified; those dying, he gave a quick death.

 

So, the police and Darkblades were cooperating now. An unusual development, but far from incredible - a relatively non-threatening gang and a relatively non-corrupt branch of the department, both on the same street, facing off against the same violent gang, in such unusual times, could quite easily produce such an event. Thus, when picking out two targets for interrogation (two that he hadn't knocked entirely out, merely stunned), he did his best to ensure that the two he grabbed were from the other gang.

 

Dragging them across the street, he took the pair beyond the barricade before throwing one of them aside. "Here's a good one to start the interrogations. He's not out quite yet." The other, he took for himself, dragging him into the nearby building.

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[Highly Suspicious Person]

Ic:

 

Bolt, who was delivering messages and not involved with any of this, needed someone to insult.

 

IC: Kratt

 

Kratt was milling around where the gang's messenger was supposed to arrive, when suddenly a blur of brown moved straight past him then abruptly stopped. Wait, it couldn't be... He looked closer and studied the blur's features. Yep, it was just as he suspected. That stupid gang had hired this guy to deliver their messages. Just great.

Kratt waved at the Toa and yelled "Hey, you. You came from the guys who wanted to meet up with me, right?"