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IC: "I was unaware that there was so much history." Nate kept smirking. "Thought it might have been a random decision that stuck."

"Not leading," Seren said reflexively as he nodded, calculating odds, ideas. "Syvra will be. But I reserve the right to veto or disobey any decision of his." Logical decision. Syvra knew the ground, putting him in command was a good ego boost. But it let Seren keep power.

Name: Tali Alihera Relo Codename: Shutdown Age: Early twenties. Gender: Female Faction: Ultimate X-Men Powers: Appropriately, Tali is able to completely cut off any mutant from their powers for up to ten minutes, or severely weaken up to three. How this exactly works has never been completely examined, but it's safe to assume it works on some kind of psychic level, since it does not force individuals who have physical mutations (like bone claws) to revert to their pre-mutated form. Her second ability (feeding off the first) is resistance to supernatural and biological factors. A psychic attempting to invade her mind would feel like they were trying to slog through particularly stubborn mud, even without Tali trying to block them. Her biological resistance managed to force the Phalanx's techno-organic virus back multiple times, though it left her scarred. Her next power is decidedly more aggressive. She's able to make physical blows shatter inorganic materials effortlessly, though organic things are only affected normally. Finally, she's a very low level empath, only capable of detecting a single emotion (pain) at a very short range (about 3 feet). Appearance: If you're looking at Tali above the neck, the first thing you would notice would be two large, bright, emerald green eyes, set on either side of a nose that's decidedly average in size, but just a little turned up at the end. The shade of green is a little darker than her normal universe counterpart's, all the heartbreak of her universe deepening her irises. The white lines of scars that run rampant over Tali's body haven't left her face untouched, each doing its dance across her nose, over her high cheekbones and even in her eyes, the lines showing up as electric blue lightning bolts in the green. They lead upward into her longer than shoulder length wavy ebony hair and down her neck to the collar of whatever outfit she's wearing, the only facial feature not marked her lips, fuller than average and more often smirking than smiling. Those scars continue their little ballet down her shoulders, spreading out like a plague, especially apparent against her tan skin, granted by time in the sun instead of any intentional means. They carry on through her full figure, over her well-muscled stomach, and all the way to her feet, remaining as nothing more than lines apart from one section in the center of her back between her shoulder blades where the Phalanx focused their efforts. The scars there rise slightly above the skin, becoming a little red and twisted looking. The other defining lines on her skin are the tattoos she has, all obtained in recent times. One, in the small of her back, says “Property of Dallas Green” in block letters, a line running around the words making it look like a packing stamp. The second is a floral script of “Veni, Vidi, Vici” down her left forearm. Spiraling around her right bicep in italicized font is “the Truth shall set you free,” and her final tattoo is the white inked, plain letters of “These are the scars I chose” across her midriff. Her ordinary clothing falls into one of two camps, depending on two deciding factors: How many people are around, if one of them is Dallas. If it's only a few people she trusts and Dallas is one, her clothes tend to be scantier, slightly tighter t-shirts that sometimes expose the tattoos on her stomach and back, with jean shorts. If there are more than just a few she wears cargo jeans and turtlenecks, trying to cover as much of her scarring as possible. Under no circumstances does she wear anything that would show the marks between her shoulder blades, unless she's alone or only with Dallas. In combat she wears tight, form fitting, tough leather to protect against knife wounds and the like, with weak points at the joints to allow for proper movement. Weapons: Tali is a traditionalist, but that doesn't keep her from holding two knives at her hips. Skills: Tali has lost none of her hand to hand abilities. If anything, she's better than her main universe self, particularly at fighting large targets. She's also stronger than her appearance would suggest. Shutdown has some of her late brother's musical skill, though she only plays the acoustic guitar. Personality: Aptly described by Dallas Green as a “dork dork,” Tali tends toward off-kilter humor, mid-conversation pop culture references, and accidentally swaying between acting sultry and awkward. She's a violent pacifist, willing to go to extreme measures if it means ending the conflict immediately, and she's very attached to Dallas- no matter how much he might seem to not be attached to her. Weaknesses: None of her powers (save empathy) affect normal humans, and none of them are long range, meaning bullets and guns are probably the most effective way to deal with her. Bio: Shutdown had history similar to Negate up until the Phalanx invasion, when her brother was killed in the first wave, trying to defend his family with barely understood powers. After that it was one heartbreak after another, leading her to volunteer for the mission to search for Showstopper's parents. She was listed as KIA during that trip, though the reality was different, and if possible, worse. See, Tali was one of the only people taken prisoner by the Phalanx. They tried to infect her, but her resistance kept throwing the virus back. The aliens started to torture her with a machine similar to Scalpel's powers, increasing the level of the artificial pain slowly, trying to break her. When that didn't work she was injected with a newer strain of the virus, one geared toward her, and thrown into a ditch, left to convert. She fought it off, yes. But it left its mark. Scars, no more than white lines, merely markers of the underlying pain, stretch across her body, and she keeps them covered. No reason to wake old memories. She's forgiven Dallas. Well, "forgiven" is an understatement. They're kinda together, though the relationship is a little rocky. It's gotten better over the past few months, but you wouldn't know it. Neither has told the other how they feel, and sometimes... Sometimes Tali wonders if they have a future. And I redid Ultimate Tali's profile. You know, for fits and giggles.

We've had death by sandwich and by barbecue before, but... DEAR GOD LET ME FORGET IT STILL GIVES ME NIGHTMARES Steak is a new one.

I used a giant tree as a sword in my noob days which aaaaaaaren't really over yet. ALL HAIL THE TREESWORD A giant tree. THE TREESWORD IS LOVE, THE TREESWORD IS LIFE And I was up against some of the best RPers in this joint. BOW IN SUBMISSION TO THE TREESWORD, PEONS So, before you people say that you're noobs... Yeah XD

IC: "We're not all handcuff happy lunatics, believe it or not." Ronah sighed. "But you-" she indicated Jokaro. "-will definitely be spending the night in a cell, no matter what the Akiri decides, if only to ensure that you won't think about lab tests in public places again."

IC: A soldier in black combat armor rushed on to the deck of the Helicarrier, clicking the faceshield on his helmet down as he did, laser blade appearing in his other hand. Alarms were flashing everywhere in his HUD, all highlighting the Omnibeam currently tearing toward the bridge of the helicarrier. The THUNDER mech was still in the repair shop from where Agent Lowell had broken it. Looked like Paladin was going to have to hope his shield could take hits from something of that power. "Agent Harken, McCoy. Paladin reporting as reinforcements." IC: Nate "I want to know the origin of the, uh..." Nate gestured at Daken's mohawk. IC: ??? A few small insects landed on the surface of the Helicarrier, inconsequential to any of the SHIELD operatives. They were, after all, fighting for their lives. And all the bees were doing was watching.

IC: "Strings are attached to everything. Probably how those quarterbacks got their commentating jobs, something in their contract." Nate swallowed and smirked.

IC: Nate grabbed a few chips and stuck one in his mouth, still looking at Daken.

my gosh are you two torturing newbies again, i told you that that scares them. Welcome to the game, new person.

IC: Nate nodded slightly, slinging his backpack over a shoulder and into a chair on the opposite side of the room, still looking a little preoccupied- Then he shook his head and smirked slightly, sitting on the couch. "It's almost eleven though. Is that the cutoff?"

IC: "So you're the one who tipped us off to that. Worked on that mission myself." Seren listened carefully, drawing again as the others spoke. "I can get the lay of the land using vibrations like sonar. Getting troop positions... More difficult."

IC: Nate threw his toothbrush and phone charger into a backpack, clicking his bow into the holster he'd had Osborn's men put on the pack, checked two pistols to make sure they were loaded. He sighed, rode the elevator to Daken's room, and knocked.

IC: Tali shook her hand gingerly, looking like she was ready to run. The other woman spoke up. "She means the monster that probably pulled you in here, unless you're one of its illusions."

IC: "Sure. Have a few scores to settle with them, myself." The Onu-Toa took another drag on his cigarette and gestured to Syvra with it. "He doesn't look the Ussalry type. You sure he'll be good for this?"

IC: Tali blinked, jumping up, trying to summon rocks lying around to use as projectiles in case of hostility... Then realized that her powers still didn't work here. "Who-who are you? This is th-that monster's mind, b-but... How'd you get in here?"

IC: "Yep." A completely ordinary Onu-Toa looked up from a chair in the reception, cigarette dangling limp in his fingers. He stood, taking a single draw from it and releasing the smoke quickly. "HQ said you needed me. What's up?" Whatever it was, it was going to be strange. They didn't call Seren Rihanku in from his pseudo-exile for the yearly Ussalry Naming Day party.

I'm assuming you mean the cheesy crackers... right? You don't actually go down to the pet store and buy goldfish just to fry them up... right? I do. What's the problem with that? and what is this "what if" book you people speak of?

And thus, Long Live the King.

IC: Do it. Mady shook her head, hand twitching at her side against her will. Do it. It's the only way to save her. Not giving her to you. Not another one. But she doesn't look like she's healing. You have a choice. If her neck's broken, she's done, vampire or not. Do it. Mady's hand reached toward Lynae's temple, but she snapped it back. No. DO it. The voice was insistent, commanding. Her arm started to move again, against her will. Her voice was pleading, helpless. Don't, please, I'm begging you. The arm kept moving. No! Don't! Don't! Suddenly, Mady inhaled deeply, the darkness in the center of the moon tattoo on her shoulder spreading throughout the entire design, eyes flashing wide open and turning pure black. The hand moved forward with no resistance this time, putting a finger on each side of Lynae's forehead, the darkness spreading down the shifter's arm and over the vampire's injured body, the short, gasping breaths she was taking inhaling the fog. And it struck, Lynae's body dissipating and flowing into Mady's tattoo, the barest glowing imprint of her consciousness sucked into Madysyn Quincy's head. And the King was sated, the darkness retreating.

IC: Sparks + gasoline + Vampire. Mady didn't want to move Lynae, too much injury risked. But she was a vampire... And if the car exploded she'd burn alive. Mady planned quickly, running to her vehicle and opening the passenger's side door. The shifter sighed as she changed shape again, taking the form of a gorilla. A seatbelt ripped out of its ruined hooks later, and she'd (gently) moved Lynae out of the car, supporting the vampire's body along one arm and holding her head carefully with the other, trying to keep a neck that might be broken from shifting. The ape moved as quickly as possible away from the wreck without jostling the unconscious Black Queen, putting the final part of her plan into action. She rested Lynae in the right seat of her car, shifting back and buckling her in the same posture she'd been in, using the ripped out seatbelt to bind her head to the chair rest. Now all she had to do was either find her some blood or hope that the rumors about the healing abilities of vampires were true.

IC: "Oh, god." Mady's features contorted in pain, bones growing, face elongating- before hardly any time had passed a full grown grizzly stood where she had, claws digging into the door and ripping it out of its ruined frame, tossing it away as she shifted back. She shouldn't move her, but... Mady reached forward, checking Lynae's neck for a pulse, a slight spark of static electricity forming as her fingers touched the vampire's neck. Probably just a storm.

iC: "Information, mostly. My brother was related to a member of your club and I wanted to get a better picture of the people here than I have." James smirked slightly. "Security clearance would be nice, but I've a feeling I will not be getting that." IC: Mady slammed her hand on the steering wheel as she barely dodged an idiotic deer, the wheels of her vehicle skidding into a ditch as the brakes went to the floor. The creature ran into the woods, past a driver who hadn't been quite as lucky. Wait. She recognized that car. The key turned in her ignition, the wounded engine purring to a stop as she jumped out, running to the wrecked car.