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IC: Katherine "Kitty" Pryde

 

"Ah, I see." Kitty really wanted to have a talk with her mother. "Well as long as you aren't seriously injured in any way then that's alright. But you let someone know if you need help okay?" 

Edited by Grochi Cat

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My Bzprpg Profiles

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

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IC (Romulus)

 

The legion, of course, had it’s own air force. Sleek, black VTOL’s of varying sizes, with a few proper fighter jets and stealth bombers for tactical flexibility. Romulus had a few choice, easily deployable pieces of this air force positioned around New York. Just in case. Three of them now housed the Hellfire garrison, members of his own personal guard amongst them, with one notable guest, a Lacey Marko.

 

There was, Romulus had determined, something to be said for modern aircraft. Unlike so many ideas (democracy, pop music and the United Nations) that had come out of the current era, they seemed to be quite useful. Granted,  modern technology was a bit of a double edged sword. Before, an army like HYDRa would have been killed off marching through a desert because Red Skull had done something foolish like turn all their water into red dye or use it all to build a clay statue of himself. He could see it now:

 

You are a Red Sea! I am a Red Skull! We should be ALLIES!’

 

‘Yet you refuse to part!’

 

And then his war chariots would have crested over the hill and that would have been that. Things were so much...messier now. An army could be everywhere and nowhere at once, and with the ease technology had brought, one scarcely needed to be competent for it to be practical. North Korea managed to maintain a spy network after all. North Korea. That really said it all. Still, he was distracting himself from the matter at hand. It was natural to do, before combat. To seek solace in one’s mind before all became blood, fire, screaming and death. But it was not behavior fit for an emperor. Let alone one as old as himself.

 

He idly wondered if Song had picked up on that particular thought pattern. The connection he now shared with his soldiers seemed to more akin to a psychic ‘radio’ then anything else, but one did not live to see their thousandth year by trusting idley. A burst of static from the VTOL transport’s intercom finally dragged him out of his thoughts.

 

“We’re closing in on the red zone. Air supports kept the drones busy, but some might slip through, so keep an eye on the sky.” The pilot’s voice was chipper, relaxed even. If he recalled correctly, she was a native of Somalia. Maya Omaar. Did some good work as a bush pilot before falling in with the African cohort of his organization. Married. Twice. Three children. One graduated, one in high school and one in college.

 

“And remember, we pull this off, we all get a date with Marko’s boss!”

 

Ah yes. He recalled now. She also believed she had a sense of humor. The sound of combat quickly made itself known through the steady thrum of the VTOL’s engines, through the steel walls and compound armor, drowning out any further mental commentary on his part. The craft shook as it’s own primary weapons answered in return, clearing a landing zone, as per protocol.

 

Then it shuddered, stopped, red lights blinked on. The moment only lasted for a second, but it seemed, as it always did, to drag on for an eternity. “Deploying in three...two...one….GO! GO! GO!”

 

The rear door of the transport rolled open. A few quick calculations rolled through the Imperator’s mind. A few feet above the ground, hovering, as they said. Then Romulus, rifle in hand, surged forwards with his legionnaires, with his legion. A battle cry tore through his lips, quickly taken up by his loyal followers. “DELENDA EST HYDRA!” The power armored cadre that made up the fist of the Legion leapt to the ground, gunfire pouring from their ranks and into the HYDRA encroachers.

 

The die, as they said, was cast.

Edited by Basilisk

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

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IC: As the X-Men poured out into the streets of New York to go fight the forces of evil and such, Alec turned to Kristen. 

 

"Alright, but hold still. I've never done this before so I have no idea how it'll feel on your end."

 

He placed his mechanical arm against Kristen's, then into Kristen's as his robotics merged with hers. For a moment space seemed to be throughly confused by two mecha-arms occupying the same location simultaneously, and there was much rippling of metal. For a moment it looked as though Kristen had ten fingers on the one hand as Alec's systems worked through her. And then, just as the tingling sensation was started to ripen into genuine pain, it was over and Alec's arm was reformatting back on its own shoulder. Her own felt a little bit heavier but there didn't seem to be any visible change. 

 

"Sort of limited in what I could do. You've got no independent power source, and no handy pocket dimension to store all the bits and pieces in. However I could install a couple of hardware upgrades."

 

A series of spikes jutted out from Kristen's hand, momentarily turning it into a morningstar before retracting. Then arcs of brilliant white electricity crackled between her fingers for a few seconds. Wasn't anything too fancy but it gave her a bit more pep for each punch.

 

"So, I've been inside you and together we made sparks," Alec grinned, "You feeling in need of a cigarette?"

Edited by I Am Ultron Six

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IC:

 

"Smooth, bro," Dallas muttered, ruffling his hair and walking out onto the street beside Sakuya, with Morrison perched on his shoulder.

 

-Tyler

Edited by tylerlicious definicious

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

 

Now, let me tell you a little thing about powered armors.

 

They suck. 

 

This conclusion is hammered home by the hammering of my position by concussive repulsor fire as Tin Man rather determinedly attempts to flush me out. And the soundtrack to my (borderline) imminent demise?

 

A woman so Armerican she's driving an armored vehicle rambling in my ear. Granted, it's pretty funny. If a little slur filled.

 

But it's not a good soundtrack for this.

 

My hands are flying as I ramble to myself, exchanging the current magazine of my rifle for an armor piercing one. Buster Mode'd deal with the issue no problem, but it'd leave me unable to deal with Tin Man's buddies. So gonna have to go with the basics. I pull the pin on a grenade, starting to count in my head. A little closer... Little more... Now.

 

I spring from cover and hurl the explosive, baseball style, at Tin Man's chest. It explodes upon reaching him (guess my timing was pretty good after all) and is followed quite promptly by a burst of rifle fire. Grenade did what I wanted it to do, softened the target up a bit; the ensuing gunfire lined up perfectly with the big glowing bullsye on its chest, terminating its power source. I actually lucked out more than I thought; Tin Man and his buddies had been forming up to charge the poor barricade I was hiding behind. When the grenade went off on Tin Man, it took the other two out with it.

 

I really can't catch a break, though.

 

“DELENDA EST HYDRA!” 

 

Now, I don't speak Latin. Took it in high school, memorized enough to get a B, forgot it the instant after. But a Latin battlecry? Don't need explaining. Don't want to be on their bad side, especially since I ain't got any idea who's side they're on! Nor do they have any idea of mine.  Plus, from bad to worse, I hear another Tin Man coming up the street.  So I do the sensible thing.

Run like 'ol Lucifer himself is after me.

 

"So Tank Lady, don't suppose you know anything about the neo Roman Empire marching up 4th, do you?

 

"Because that's a little weird, even for today."
 

  • Upvote 1

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

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: Nero sighed a sigh of stress and, simultaneously, relief.

 

It had been a long time since he had goon gallivanting off into battle with his comrades. It was scary every time. Not for the first time (and hopefully not the last either,) a little voice in Nero's head pondered the intelligence of heading into a fight filled with gunfire while bound to a wheelchair.

 

A larger voice responded with vague threats and profanity, and the idea that sound and concussion based superpowers are a thing, plus werewolf.

 

Nero chose to let the voices debate on their own, and sped down the ramp as fast as his wheels would carry him, a jubilant yelp escaping his lips and manifesting as a purple glowing orb of hysteric energy near his shoulder.

 

Start with cover fire. Then the offense.

~Totally like a boomerang. I always come back. Just never when you want me to.~

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IC:

 

A squadron of twelve elite Hydra soldiers had seen the Blackbird once it had landed and the cloaking systems had been disengaged. They now rushed down a large alleyway, many black combat boots thudding against it as they headed towards the X-Men.

The group of twelve warriors soon reached the clearing the Blackbird was currently resting in. They broke off, six going around either side of the Blackbird.

 

“Kill them all!” one of the Hydra soldiers shouted, as he pulled up his rifle and began to fire at Nero.

 

Another one lifted up a shotgun, took aim and fired at Dallas.

 

One soldier loaded with double pistols game around, before spraying the ground near any Christine, while one of his buddies, armed with an uzi came up beside him before adding to the fire.

 

Christine dodged to the left as the ground erupted with gunfire. She threw out a hand, unleashing a sonic blast to the chest of the Hydra soldier and blasting him backwards.

 

OOC:

 

Not sure if I’m overstepping my bounds here, just thought the X-Men could use some NPC’s to fight; 13 soldiers for the X-Men who didn’t get off on the building, one a piece.

 

X-Men: Alec, Dallas, Quinn, Nero, Sakuya, Gabriel, Christine, Morrison

 Dallas, John, Bekah, Julia, Kristen,

Edited by FleX-Man
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IC (Saphine)

 

“Did you see that!? He just-” Saphine made a popping motion with her hand. “-so take that down. GoldPoint HESH round vs Wannabe Ghostepo power armor equals alot of tenderized meat flying everywhere. Seems like the sort of thing posterity should remember!” Saphine stopped her running commentary of the battle when Mysterious Military Frequency Batman (MMFB for short) cut in. 

 

“Oh yeah. They’re cool. Just try not to look German or Carthaginian and you should be fine. And hide any history books. Their boss, old man bad###, can go on about them for hours.” Needless to say, as she filled Batman in on Hellfire’s local history club, the Revengining continued it’s noble rampage around Times Square. It was fairly easy to pick out targets-look for power armor that didn't look roman, guys shooting at you and in one unique case that special kind of ‘oh a soviet tank is about to crush me’ look only a true Nazi could pull off.

 

The driver, who had, until now, been doing an admirable job of holding his tongue sighed. “You do know I’m German, right?”

 

“No one cares Jim.”

 

“My names no-”

 

“Less talking more crushing.”

 

IC (Perfectly normal ambulance)

 

Today was, Winston Howe reflected, turning out to be all the wrong kinds of interesting. First, his comrades in the Legion tap him for a quick disappearance run and then HYDRA decides to that now would be an excellent time to just start shooting the entire city up because London, evidently, had become a boring target for megalomaniacal Germans with dreams of global domination. Or maybe they’d learned their lessons about messing with British chaps denied their tea for a few days. Considering the intellect or the lack thereof their leader had, it wasn't difficult to figure out which option was more likely.

 

All of this did nothing to answer his primary question. Why, precisely, did the late president’s daughter have a slit throat, why did he and his partner (currently in back, keeping watch) have to bring her to one of the legion’s outposts in the city and why had Li, normally a temperate sort, been glaring daggers at the girl?

 

As he stepped on the acceleration, Howe reminded himself that his was not, currently, to reason why. There would be time for pondering when New York wasn't a warzone. Hopefully. 

Edited by Basilisk

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

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OOC: Er Flex, both Alec and Kristen happen to be inside the Blackbird still

 

IC: "No prob. You get any ideas for anything else you might want installed just ask and I'll give it my best shot," Alec grinned as he stood up and started walked to the boarding ramp, "And I promise to leave out the innuendo next time."

 

 

IC: For the record, yes, I did catch that pattern of thought. Song spoke in passing to Romulus before dedicating a bit more effort to his troops. Looking though their eyes, unburdened by the tang of jingoism and haze of adrenaline, she could take an unbiased look at the situation and lend aid when needed. A few soldiers might find a HYDA soldier trying to hide suddenly stood out in their peripheral vision. Maybe another few might find their focus drawn to the snipers and a sudden knowledge they needed to lay down covering fire. Just little hints here and there, nothing large enough to get in the way of any plan or orders Romulus had already laid down

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OOC: Sorry bout that dudes, I edited that bit out for yah

 

IC:

 

Blue eyes opened. Nicole took a shaky breath and looked around at her surroundings. I'm not dead... Why am I not dead? Were the only thoughts she could muster. She deserved to die for what she'd done to Dallas.

 

It appeared she was in some sort of hospital. It hurt her to even think about moving let alone trying to speak, she guessed they'd stopped the bleeding somehow. She closed her eyes again, tears forming around the edges. I can't even kill myself right...

 

IC:

 

Johnathan snapped into action as the Hydra soldiers surrounded them and began to engage. He darted forward as Christine blasted back the soldier with double-pistols. The uzi-grunt sprayed fire at Johnathan, who in turn ducked and rolled across the ground, lifting up his metal arm to ward off a few of the bullets as he charged forward.

 

The uzi fired again, Johnathan doing his best to doge, however he felt a bullet pump into his shoulder as he came in closer. He unleashed a powerful kick, knocking the gun from the soldier's grasp before he slashed upwards with his free hand, cutting into the soldier's chest. He then fired three shots into his chest with his other hand before dropping the soldier to the ground. It had begun.

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IC: The sound of the soldiers' feet hitting the ground before they had begun to reach the Blackbird, so the cacophony of sound that blasted out to greet their attackers was a foregone conclusion.

 

The soldier who had opened his mouth to scream "Kill them all!" found himself facing a dervish of noise and concussive force that quickly overcame anything else he could hear, roaring straight him as the bullets he fired bounced fruitlessly off the raging blast that quickly grew in strength

 

Chortling madly, Nero projected wall after wall of force, the laughing bouncing and ricocheting off itself until it became a chorus of cracking up madmen, a series of  walls of maniacal ensemble cackling that drowned out nearly all other nearby noise, and crashed towards as many soldiers as he could aim the waves at without smacking his comrades.

 

Speaking of his comrades, Nero did his best to keep the volume down closer to each of them, but in the interest of not eating lead, it was certainly not his main focus.

~Totally like a boomerang. I always come back. Just never when you want me to.~

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IC:

 

The soldier screamed as the noise assaulted him, the walls of force knocking him back and causing him to stumble. His bullets being deflected. He fought off the urge to crumble to the ground, due to the insane sound and instead pulled out a frag grenade, primed it and attempted to throw it over the wall of sound that was blasting against him, hoping for it to land near the sound-mutant and blow him away.

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IC:

 

it makes it easier

easier to bear

you won't regret it no no

some girls they don't forget it

loooooove

is their only happiness

 

squeeze her

squeeze her

squeeze her 

don't tease her

never leave her

 

Sounds so soulful, don't you agree?

 

"You're doing it wrong," Showstopper said to his counterpart, yawning as he hopped out of Bekah's personal bubble and came strolling down the Blackbird's ramp.

 

"Enlighten me, Commander Jerkoff." Dallas' face was gritted in concentration as he slowed down the bullets and started to sidestep. The black-haired version of the chronokinetic placed both hands on the blonde's shoulder, holding him still, and then clapped him patronizingly on the neck once.

 

"No fear, slugger. Just let me slip into something a little more comfortable." 

 

Pulling the wine colored sweater over his tattooed frame (not without pushing his waistband down a few centimeters with his thumb, though) and hiding his earbud cables from view, Dallas flicked his hands as if they were covered in water and then pointed a pair of finger guns at the shotgun mook trying to gun down his beautifully tragic, less sexy clone. The world around them froze, Prime Dallas' face contorted in skepticism, the Hydra mook's in concentration. One eye was still closed to aim the shotgun. 

 

they say i'm crazy but i'm bout to go dumb again

they ain't see me cause i pulled up in my other benz

last week i was in my OTHER other benz

throw your diamo--

 

Dallas only paused once on his confident, time-distorted strut - to crouch slightly, pull out his iPhone, and snap a picture of himself with the frozen shotgun pellet loosely balanced between his teeth. 

 

SNAP

 

Over/under on Instagram likes? 55. Over.

 

He didn't even know 55 people, either.

 

Job to do! Right. Right. He had a job to do.

 

Plucking the pellet out from under his teeth and pointing it at the grenade leaving the Hydra soldier's hand, Dallas switched his attention back to his sexy runway stroll. Reaching up to grab the suspended shotgun, Dallas slowly tilted the barrel back, smashing it into the Hydra soldier's hard-set face, and walked behind the mook with ease. 

 

Wow.The scene was nearly perfect...it was just missing something. Or two somethings.

 

A. Dallas pulled the shotgun over the mook's head and into his own gleeful hands. 

B. B. B. B. B.

 

Aha! He knew it.

 

B. He put his foot on the soldier's , and unfroze time.

 

BWOOF BWOOF

 

"Aargh!"

 

The force of Dallas' foot sent the Hydra soldier falling forward to the pavement, nose bloodied and face shield shattered.

 

"Arrivederci, pretty boy," he drawled with a wink at the other Dallas. "Ultimates! Form up, , we all know how to tango. Haiii, Bekah. What'd you think? How hot am I?"

 

Time to lead.

 

-Tyler

  • Upvote 1

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

 

Johnathan stepped up next to Dallas. “Nice to see you enjoying yourself.” He grunted before he bent down and cut a large piece of the soldier’s pant leg that Dallas had just downed. He then proceeded to wrap it around the bullet wound in his shoulder to staunch the bleeding. The bullet had gone through so he didn’t have to dig it out. There was now some slick crimson mixed onto the sleek black fabric of his X-Suit as he got back to his feet.

 

As Christine’s enemy lifted his weapons and began to unload led at her again she threw her hands forward, creating a massive wall of sound like she’d seen Nero do. She mimicked his style, knowing how to do this only because she’d absorbed some of his thoughts.

 

Christine then clapped both of her hands together, forming two massive walls of pure, super-loud base sound on either side of the soldier attacking her. Once her hands touched the walls smashed into the soldier on either side. What happened next to him wasn’t pretty; however she turned away so she didn’t have to look.

“And that’s how you drop the base.” She muttered. 

 

One of the Hydra soldiers began to fire at Quinn. He was armed with a glock and a large knife. Quinn jumped to the right as bullets bounced off the Blackbird near his head. He then rushed forward as sharp bones began to burst from his arm as he threw it forward. Six sharp bone shards flew out of his arm, spinning through the air as they flew straight at the Hydra soldier.

 

He jumped to the left, most of them missing him except three of the bones slammed into his side, cutting into him. The soldier cursed and almost lost his footing before he began to fire at Quinn again. He ducked and jumped out of the way before throwing up his palm and unleashing a single long bone shard that shot straight towards the soldier's throat. It hit him on the mark, stabbing into his throat, the point coming out the back. The Hydra grunt gurgled as he fell to the ground.

 

The grenade the mook threw at Nero was somehow hit by a bullet out of thin air, bursting and turning into a ball of flame that blinded him for a moment.

 

Another soldier packing a grenade launcher glanced at normal Dallas. He wasn't sure how his comrade had just been dispatched by the kids apparent twin.

 

"Die mutant!" he said as he let it rip, firing a grenade at Dallas chest.

Edited by FleX-Man
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IC:

 

Well...if the X-Gene fits...

 

Dallas tentatively did Showstopper's wishy-washy hand model thingy and held a hand out to the grenade, slowing it to a crawl...and finally stopping it about twenty feet away from him and Sakuya.

 

I feel dirty.

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: Ashley

 

I sense something...

 

IC: Ult. Ashley

 

...slightly disturbing...

 

It basically felt like the equivalent of Theodore Roosevelt traveling back in time to tell himself how awesome he is. Trippy. 

 

IC: Katherine "Kitty" Pryde

 

Kitty hummed in thought for a moment. "Well, Ashley is in there if you wish to speak to her. It's none of my business, but real friends will forgive each other for nearly anything. Just something to think about." Kitty started to walk away. 

 

"If you need me I'll be in my office, watching the news intently." 

 

IC: Jeffery Pryde 

 

Jeff made rather short work of finding the perfect sniper nest for the Russian mutant. With his powers examining the rooms above was easy as pie. Eventually he found one that met pretty much every requirement Aleks had thrown at him. 

 

"I think I found what we're looking for." He said into his comm, several floors up from their landing point and a much better view of time square, he could see the chaos far below. 

 

"Dear god, it's just like Vegas." 

Edited by Grochi Cat

363513066_tobecont.png.5b057f495e0794e9450207c84546738e.png
My Bzprpg Profiles

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

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IC:
 

The Hydra soldiers attempting to encircle the Blackbird were, in their own myriad ways, finding themselves cut down in their paths. One of the thirteen, oblivious or apathetic to the decline in his comrades, managed to push his way around the Eastern edge where the fighting was (as of yet) still light. Grenade in one hand, Uzi in the other, he sprang from his low stance and rounded the corner, a scream of "Heil Hydra!" on his lips.

 

A crimson and purple tinted gaze was the last thing he saw. 

 

A precise burst of three rounds tore into the minute section between his head and neck unprotected by his equipment, sending him to the ground. Even in that instant it was glaringly obvious that he wasn't going to make it. Some part of him, however small, recognized this and chose to act in defiance of it. Trembling fingers stretched towards the pin on his grenade, but a boot pressed down on them forcefully. Were his senses not fading fast, such a move might have been painful. 

 

Such thoughts were ended by a single calm discharge of a high caliber hand gun.

 

"Villainous valor. Interesting. Green, good work neutralizing the westernmost target."

 

IC:

 

am German. 

 

Probably shouldn't mention that.

Unfortunately, I've got bigger problems anyway. Not to downplay my own competence, but I'm trying to hold a New York street against some crazy s that seem to have my men than sense. Long story short, I'm pretty thoroughly outnumbered and they're pushing up the street. 

Time to fall back a bit, set up a defensive line.

 

"I'll keep that in mind, Tank Lady."

 

IC:

 

Though his shield was precisely placed for maximum protection, and his body followed the Russian sniper, Alex's focus was elsewhere. ALec hadn't been wrong; from his current position the technopath had a nearly optimum range of effectiveness, stretching all the way through Times Square. His mind flitted about, analyzing transmissions frequencies, computer systems, observing the interplay of information between enemy (and ally) units. Such intel, while useful by itself, served a secondary purpose; superimposing the triangulated coordinates of each signal, he was able to create a comprehensive map of the area with the estimated location of every unit transmitting data.

 

Each speck was slowly tagged, the information displayed on the phone in his hands for ease of reference. Each icon took on a red or green tinge, though some remained neutral, as he identified patterns that enabled him to make a guess at their faction.

 

In short, in the time it had taken Jeffery to find a perch, the technopath had achieved near total tactical mastery.

 

"Hope we've got some kind of end game, because they've got a whole of a lot more people than us." A pause. "I think they've got a few drones. Something's seamlessly operating them by remote, signal's well protected. Might be another technopath."

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

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

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC:

 

The Hydra grunt blinked his eyes in disbelief when the grenade somehow ended up in the mutants hand before being throw a safe distance away where it then exploded harmlessly.

 

He didn’t know what this mutants’ power was, but apparently he was immune to range attacks. The Hydra grunt grudgingly put away his grenade launcher before drawing twin long serrated combat knives and charging at Dallas as he began to slash at him.

 

IC:

 

"How's it goin up there? We ran into some trouble but we're holding our own." Christine informed her Russian assassin.

 

"Nice shot Bekah." Johnathan grunted.

 

OOC:

 

Alec, Sakuya, Gabriel, Morrison, Julia, Kristen,

 

Hydra grunts left not killed or in combat: one for, so six dudes left un in combat we’ve taken half out guys.

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OOC: What?

 

IC: Gabriel McKnight

 

From the very beginning, Gabriel knew that the powers granted to her by the mutations were horribly invasive. Those who she encountered would find their entire bodies changed, manipulating into the form of the opposite sex. From their genetic structure to cosmetic traits such as hair colour, the ability to freely play with one's sex was lay at her fingertips. And she took advantage of that, paying no heed to the wishes of her victims when they found themselves in the body of a different sex for the duration of one hour. It was disgustingly intrusive, breaking apart the barriers that kept one's flesh from becoming the playthings of another. There was no resistance, no defiance; applying her powers was simply, to her, a ... flick of the switch.

 

It was wrong, wasn't it? But personally, she did not understand. Could not understand. She had never simply been "Gabe, the weird mutie kid from down the street" or "Gabby, the crazy mutie chick that lives in the apartment next to me". She (well, he, as his body changed mid-walk) would never know the anguish brought about by one's flesh betraying them to the powers of another. It was ... normal for him. His youth, before his powers had stabilised, had been a confusing time, where the next change's arrival would be always unknown.

 

So if he intellectually knew that what he was doing was wrong ... was he a bad person? Gabe laughed quietly to himself. Maybe. But he might not be a good person. He was predatory in some aspects, selfish, and constantly overbearing. Or maybe he could be a good person weighed down with numerous flaws. It didn't really matter to him. It was complex, and were these traits of his set in stone? That was another question that occurred to him.

 

But in any case, he was definitely a parasite. There was little that could dispute that. He smiled at a HYDRA soldier and watched as their eyes widen in shock, mouth opening up in an attempt to say something as their bodies changed in an instant. It was ... amusing, watching their confusion at what had occurred within the span of less than a second. He was a parasite on other humans, feeding on their emotions, property and inherent goodwill.

 

Here he was, enjoying the disorientation of his foe.

 

Sometimes though, he wished that he could be more like his namesake; to become a far more complex individual; to become somebody that could one day find themselves in a more ... mutualistic relationship. He didn't know how he could do that, but he wished he could.

 

Maybe he would.

 

Maybe.

 

But for now, none of that really mattered to him. What mattered was his fist slamming into the face of the disorientated HYDRA goon.

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IC: Nero would never get used to the feeling of working alongside Dallas in a combat situation (either one, for clarity.) So much of Nero handling the battlefield as well as he did, considering his lack of mobility, was in his ability to survey things as they were happening, via sound.

 

It was always disorienting, therefore, for objects to suddenly appear in a completely different area of Nero's aural "vision", or suddenly change trajectories. Let alone entire teammates or enemies.

 

Nero supposed a significant majority of that was his own fault. He had gotten quite used to being able to predict things, or, if nothing else, react to them based on what was almost pretty much instinct by this point, so he had nobody to blame but himself if certain moments didn't go as he'd come to expect.

 

But it was still trippy.

 

Trippy didn't stop Nero from being grateful that he wasn't currently chewing on fragmented whatever caused by grenade, though.

 

"Whichever one of you time controlling people saved my tuckus, thaaaaanks!" Nero called out, not staying focused long enough to figure out which Dallas he should thank specifically. Nero's attention was now on the remaining goons, and his current ploy: The attacking soldiers would suddenly find there was a distinct lack of sound. It was if someone had turned the volume on their world down.

 

Which, to be fair, Nero had in fact done.

 

He didn't wager it would be terribly damaging, but the disorientation would be well worth it.

~Totally like a boomerang. I always come back. Just never when you want me to.~

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IC:

 

SKKKKKKKKRCH

 

To Dallas Green, the look on his counterpart's face as he pushed - pushed! - a bombed out Toyota Camry at the Hydra assailant was enough to make him remember the last time a car length had separated the "twins."

 

To Dallas Green, fuuuhrick he felt even hotter than usual right now. 

 

--Until the Hydra soldier exhibited a surprising amount of competence for one in his career path, and stepped to the right twice. 

 

Heh.

 

"Run," he had enough time to tell 9-Out-Of-10 Dallas and Sakuya, before he was kicked up against the wall by the chest. 

 

"Ow," he had enough time to say, before he was hit in the gut twice with a shotgun handle.

 

He had time to make an unspeakably foul come-on to the Hydra soldier before the gun was at his neck.

 

 

"Any last words?"

 

 
"Sure!" Dallas rasped hoarsely, gun against his throat. "Once upon a time, Jesus was juggling the sex drive of Gore Vidal, the charm of Frank Sinatra, and the looks of, I don't know, Hot Jesus...and he accidentally dropped them into a random womb in California. Yup, dropped all three, Jesus has butter fingers. So anyway, this boy grew up and became a war hero, but he FELL OUT of his own dimension to--"
 
"Stop talking," the mook said, even as Dallas started to slow time to a crawl - somehow, this didn't change the speed at which words flew out of his mouth.
 
"--so he FINALLY put a shirt on and got on a plane with all the teammates he'd ever naked, except for Bekah, 'cause he was still working on that one, and this Hydra mook pinned him to a brick wall with a shotgun and said 'Any last words?' so--"
 
BANG.
 
Dallas winced and spat as blood coated his jaw, neck and sweater. Bekah was staring at him stonily.
 
"--And that's how I learned to talk someone to death!" he crowed. "Bekah, remind me to kiss you."
 
"We are in the middle of a combat scenario."
 
Dallas opened his mouth to say something no-doubt-sexually brazen, but before he had so much as a chance, the Times Square ball glowed a deeper, more violent red at the first contact of Persphone's lasers. Though it didn't attempt to combat her, the ball looked like it was only absorbing the energy she had pumped into it, and now small bolts of red lightning began to crackle along the glass surface.
 
-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: U! Julia

 

Julia lunged at a HYDRA soldier, stretching her claws out towards him, ready to tear out his throat. There was a thunderous sound and a sharp, burning pain in her shoulder as the panicked shot grazed her flesh. She let it fuel her rage as she continued forwards, knocking the gun aside with one hand and stabbing with the other. The gunman hit the ground clutching his bleeding trachea, but by then, Julia had already pounced on another.

67tlbk.png

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IC:

 

Wait, he had a battlecry? Was she supposed to have a battlecry?

 

Had Rom told her to put together a battlecry? She hadn't thought he had, but maybe that's because all his words had kind of just compounded into "Yes, Lacey, relax. Stare longingly at my butt. It's okay, people have been doing it for ten thousand years, and Jupiter willing they won't stop any time soon."

 

Uhhh...what had Rom yelled? Maybe she could copy that.

 

...

 

2.

 

Ring. Ring.

 

"Yyyyello?"

 

"Hey, uh...sir? Ric? It's Lace. I need a battlecry."

 

"What about Lacey, Lacey, she's our man! If she can't forge it, no on--"

 

No, that wouldn't work.

 

"IF I DIE TELL YOUR FRIEND HE'S BANGABLLLLLLLLE!"

Lacey Marko, phone still clutched tightly in hand, slipped on her helmet and followed.

 

IC:

 

...

 

...

 

...

 

"That girl is ###### bonkers," Ric said dotingly.

 

-Tyler

Edited by tylerlicious definicious

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: (Sakuya)

 

The HYDRA goon that had attacked me would be found immediately regretting his situation. I moved away from Dallas to make sure the bullets wouldn't be draw his way or anyone else's. The goon fired, and for a second it would have seemed as though I was going to be hit. That was just an after-image though, and the bullets collided with brick and concrete. He moved again to attack, drawing a bead, but he was still to slow for me. With a quick bursts of speed I moved faster than the average eye could follow, faster than his eye could follow. I drew my blade and activated my second power, slicing down on the goon's gun, cutting it clear in half.

 

"What...you mutie freak!" The soldier growled, stumbling back. What came next was a series of strikes, pummeling him with the hilt, knocking the wind out of the soldier, and bludgeoning him into unconsciousness. My eyes zeroed upon her next target, rejoining Dallas as the man felt to the grow. Their blood wasn't worthy to stain my blade, I'd kill if I had to, but only then.

 

IC: (Asa Thurman, Before Hydra attack)

 

I had made my way onto the roof, exhausted and pretty much already done with the day before it even started. Coffee only offered a modicum of energy for my thoroughly exhausted mind. I brought everything I thought I needed, made sure it was packed, double-checked because I was pretty tired. I bit my tongue just so I wouldn't come with some ###### remark. Instead munching on the cookies I had baked the night before while I was in the grips of insomnia. I just wanted to sleep, wanted to lie my head against something and nod off.

gallery_99567_147_39590.jpg

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IC:

 

Sierra watched Kitty leave quietly. While she'd been nearby, it had been easy to delay the inevitable. Or was it? She swallowed nervously, her pale eyes flickering. Wouldn't it be easier to leave now? To turn around and never look back? The small, fragile girl took a step back. Friends...did ever even want them in the first place? Sure, having people around could be nice at times, but I'll never have that kind of history with them. A soft growl escaped her before she could stop it. It wasn't angry, not in the least. It was mostly just pathetic frustration, but more than that, it was inhuman. And she knew it. "What I've been being made into for my entire life... it won't leave just because it's hidden." she whispered, touching her collar gently.

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IC: 

 

"Purrrrrrrrrrrrrr..."

 

Cinnabon rubbed against Sierra's legs and started purring. Where had he come from? The kitten then ran off toward the room Ashley was staying in while she was recovering. 

Edited by Grochi Cat

363513066_tobecont.png.5b057f495e0794e9450207c84546738e.png
My Bzprpg Profiles

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

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IC: Ashley

 

Cinnabon didn't go too far, stopping at a bed and leaping on to it, in the bed lied Ashley. Cinnabon sat on the bed and purred while Ashley stirred a bit. The tranquilizers had affected her quite a bit it seemed and she was still quite groggy. When she saw Sierra she smiled. 

 

"Sierraaa hey!" She said with tired enthusiasm. 

Edited by Grochi Cat

363513066_tobecont.png.5b057f495e0794e9450207c84546738e.png
My Bzprpg Profiles

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

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IC (Alecto)

 

Alecto's face was stretched into a taut, grim expression as the full magnitude of the attack hit him. "The plan? Far as I'm concerned the plan is not getting sho-oh ###### me!" Alecto suddenly pulled to the right, just as a burst of fire from below scythed through the sky. "I think they're just shooting at random now. Seriously, where does Fuhrer Jollyrancher get these people?" Alecto straightened his flight path out, grumbling all the while. "So Snow, you've been in this situation before? Now'd be the time to fill us in on the details. From where I stand, we need to get to ground as soon as possible. We're reaching failed middle eastern state levels of bulletmass right now. Sooner we're not in the open sky, the better." 

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

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IC:

 

*kapow*

 

Accurate and precise.

 

*snnnnktboom*
 

Accurate and precise.

 

*achaklick*

 

His shots were few in number, but he made sure that each and every one of them reached their target. Months ago, he wouldn't have been so careful. But that had changed - he knew the damage he himself could bring about if he wasn't.

 

*boom*

 

He pulled behind the alleyway entrance, pressing against the wall to avoid a burst of gunfire. It was frustrating, not being able to assist in a more substantial manner. But he was here to help save New York. Not wreck it again.

 

He wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

 

*kaaaaaziiiing*

 

That was a close one. His foray into angst had nearly gotten him shot. He had no plans on dying yet.

 

*pewpewpew*

 

Another HYDRA goon gone. But he was already moving, keeping his eye out for enemies and potential cover. The area around the Square was crawling with danger.

 

...

 

The sound of fist cracking against face alerted him to the presence of fighting somewhere outside the alleyway. He rapidly moved closer, keeping his profile small as he slinked along the walls.

 

Hah.

 

Haha.

 

Hahahaha.

 

What a coincidence.

 

He just had to meet the guy here.

 

And he had a duty to enforce.

 

*kachow*

 

His pistol fired.

 

A HYDRA goon behind Jayce crumpled to the ground.

 

"You really need someone to watch your back," said Michael McKnight.

Edited by Umi Tryon
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IC:

I am in a terrible mood.

I just got shaken down at knifepoint, lost all my money, had one of the guys recognize me somehow, and charge in with intent to probably kill.

By the time I'd beaten him into the floor, his other gang of bozos already had run off with all my stuff save for my poor, poor phone. That's smashed and trampled to bits and mangled beyond all repair, just like my whole day's been.

Not to mention I've had my hand stabbed. I'm tryin' to keep that supercooled, but I'm not sure it's helping any. Go figure, immunity to yourself can suck after all.

Whoever's in charge of my life upstairs, you really must enjoy bustin' a guy's balls, huh?

And that, my friends, is the story of how one Al Vafbagr, yours truly by the way, half walked and half staggered out of some random alley in the Big Apple proper, with no idea where he was, how to reach anyone he knew, or what was even about to happen next.

I swear, I shoulda just stuck with Chris.

helo frens

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