Order And Chaos: A Superpower RP (Started, Closed)

[Terratina.]

Crawling. Ever crawling through the sewers. Without its extra mass, it felt naked. But there were the small victories. A three-man Seraphim team had been beaten, they were in its grasp - quite literally - right up until the ice woman called in the cavalry. It was still nursing the share of electrical burns, thermal burns and ice burns from the liquid nitrogen's bite. It slipped through the sewers, devouring the fauna and flora. New York's sewers had never been so free of rats and algae. Soon it had recovered about a quarter of its mass, enough to shift into a flesh-and-bone copy of its creator. But that would wait; the sewers turned out to be rich with biomass and Morph was sure that it could devour all it could get. Even if it was just the flesh of vermin, even if it wasn't human flesh. Vermin had almost taken over the world by sheer luck of being the vector of one of the deadliest diseases on the Earth. But that was then and this was now. And now Morph was exhausted.

It curled up upon the roof and form what could be said to be a cocoon, though it was more vast and armoured that one from a simple caterpillar. Capillaries criss-crossed the surface of the structure, bringing in nutritious blood to the creature inside. Like a caterpillar, metamorphosis went on inside. Cells divided, tissues were repaired, and new biological structures were created. While Morph rested, some cells secret extracellular matrix, forming adipose, cartilage and other connective tissue. Others did differently and become part of nervous, epithelial and muscle tissues. Now Morph wasn't just a huge blob of mass and malevolent sentience, but an organised bundle of organ systems. This went on for about forty-five minutes until a hand burst forth from the cocoon and a greedy mouth ripped at it, devouring it whole. Now, it had rested. Now was the time. Now, Morph was a man, but not a man. In fact it was a wolf in sheep's clothing, on the prow for new, unsuspecting prey.

It had beef up for one heck of a heavyweight championship after all. And after Seraphim's response to the massacre of those civilians, it would be best to go about this quietly...

 

[Arcanist]

Marcus let out a sigh as he opened the door to his apartment. The last week hadn't been kind to him, and he just wanted to collapse in his bed and forget his troubles for a few hours. He motioned to turn the lights on, only to find they didn't seem to work. He flipped the switch several times, annoyance painting his features.

'Really? NOW!? Sometimes I fucking hate my powers.' In times of emotional duress, his powers often acted erratically - including performing minor power draws from items and utilities in his immediate vicinity. He groaned, as it would take a calibration to his suite to reverse once started. 'Guess I'm not sleeping tonight. What a fucking drag...' He didn't bring the tools to do that with him, so he'd have to borrow them from Seraphim's tech lab. He stepped outside and saw a man, not that much younger than Marcus himself, fiddling with his cell phone with a look of annoyance. 'Uh... oops. Did I do that? Well, if I did, I just need to give it some juice, so no problem there.'

"Uh... hi there. I think I'm the cause of the problem with your phone. Hand it over for a second and I can fix it."

 

[Pm0n3y]

"...This place is pretty awesome. Like, they got free room service and everythi-Hello?" Justin's conversation was interrupted, quite abruptly. "Did my call just get dropped? Fucking AT&-wait." Bringing the phone down from his face, the boy realized that his call hadn't disconnected, but instead, the phone was off. Totally bereft of life. Justin sighed as he pressed on the power button, only to receive no response.

"Arrrgh, I just charged this damn thing in class!" He seethed through gritted teeth as he began turning his attention towards the door he had yet to open, simultaneously mashing on the phone's few buttons. All the while, his across-the-hall neighbor approached him from behind. Justin continued to pay him little attention, as the door to his flat swung open.

"Uh...hi there."

"Hey." Justin greeted back abruptly, his attention still affixed on getting into his home.

"I think I'm the cause of the problem with your phone. Hand it over for a second, so I can fix it." The man said, now acquiring about 55% of Justin's attention. Justin dropped his bookbag somewhere on the inside of his condo before reappearing before the co-worker.

"I could most likely fix it myself, but eh. Why work hard, when you can have others do it for you?" Justin replied, tossing his phone in the man's direction. As he got a better look at the man's face, he came to a stark realization. This was the same man that he'd seen earlier today, in the lobby. They've must've both applied for the job, and both got it. But, there was something else about the man that he'd remember. He also remembered seeing his face in the news once. Some brief article about a failed tussle between the guy, and some water-wielding adversaries.

"Hmph...your name's Faraday isn't it? I think I saw your face and name in the news before...you got your ass handed to you by some water chicks." He remembered, beginning to extend a hand.

"Either way, my name's Justin...Case. I'd ask what your powers are, but with a name like Faraday, i'd imagine they'd be electric-based. 'S makes me wonder why they even hired me. I mean, two electric guys? That just seems redundant...but, fuck, as long as I can use these people's resources while still getting paid, then you won't see me complain too much." He added with a scoff.

 

[Arcanist]

He handed over his cell phone and Faraday looked down at it. He could feel no current, alright - so this was likely his doing. Not a problem - a brief jolt should get it back in working order.

"Hmph...your name's Faraday isn't it? I've seen your face and name in the news before...you got your ass handed to you by some water chicks." He extended a hand. Marcus returned with an awkward smile. "Yea... that's me. Anyway, you shouldn't touch me while I do this. Even small jolts can be painful." He extended the hand with the cell phone forward and took in a deep breath. A flash of light burst forth, with sparks tumbling from his hands. He could feel the phone's circuitry fill with current, and it flipped on, as though nothing had happened.

"Sorry about that. My powers can get... cagey."

"Either way, my name's Justin...Case. I'd ask what your powers are, but with a name like Faraday, i'd imagine they'd be electric-based. 'S makes me wonder why they even hired me. I mean, two electric guys? That just seems redundant...but, fuck, as long as I can use these people's resources while still getting paid, then you won't see me complain too much."

"Yea, that's the long and short of it. I'd stick around to say more, but I have to head down to the tech lab to keep what just happened to your phone from happening to the rest of the floor." He offered Justin his phone back, and turned to leave.

 

[Lambi]

[HEADING=1]Chapter 1-1: Creature of the Sea / Technofreak[/HEADING]​

Two weeks later...

Business had went on as usual for Seraphim. Kurt had recovered from his injuries after his encounter with Red Coyote, and Christopher was wandering around the Seraphim building as he tended to do from time to time. No use just sitting in the office all day. He could be contacted whenever, so he thought to take a stroll. The heroes there greeted him as they passed by him and he greeted in return. Everything was going well for them. Villains were being caught, although Christopher knew he couldn't catch all of them, he tried his best to send out appropriate teams each time.

He entered the science labs to check up on his scientists. "How are things going in here?" One of them turned towards him. "Things are going great, Christopher. We're making further progress to ensure that our computers and equipment are even safer than before." Christopher smiled in return to hearing that. "Glad to hear it, Steven." he said to the scientist. The two of them walked over to where some scientists were working on a few of the equipment some of the heroes had brought into the labs, repairing and enhancing them as they had been asked to do. "Good work, people. You make Seraphim proud." Christopher told them. "Thank you, sir." they all answered him while still working on the equipment.

Christopher left the labs and kept wandering around still. It was always nice to be social with the people he worked with. One reason why he asked everyone to call him Christopher instead of Adelbert or mister Adelbert. Just sounded too formal to him whenever he was called that. Always did. He was barely alright with it if he had to deal with people from the government who were all too uptight for him and thankfully he only had to deal with them if one of the heroes from Seraphim did something to endanger the safety of any country they were sent to, and that happened rarely. The heroes there knew to capture the villains by any means necessary unless it involved the lives and safety of innocents. Christopher looked outside the windows to see over the city of New York. He felt that it was kept safe along with the rest of the world.

 

[CounterAttack]

Mark hated interviews. Back when he was in high school there had been many attempts to land a job for the summer or otherwise... during most of them he had been reduced to a stuttering mess, or shut up entirely when posed a question he thought to be difficult. And yet, here he was in the Seraphim lobby, a small file in one hand containing a letter of application and a CV. He'd heard that Seraphim provided accommodation for its heroes, so most of his possessions were packed up in suitcases in his car outside.

Talsper had talked him into coming: the mage wanted to see what Seraphim had to offer. "If I mess this up, it's on your head," the traceur muttered to no-one as he nervously approached the front desk, knowing Talsper would hear him.

The receptionist, a pretty redheaded woman a couple of years his senior with an earpiece in one ear, looked up as he neared the counter. "Hey there. Something I can help you with?" She sounded like the perky, carefree type. Mark could already tell this conversation wasn't going to end well.

"Um... yeah, I made a call a couple of days ago... scheduled an interview to work here. The name was Mark Robinson, and guest," he explained, a little haltingly.

"One moment..." The receptionist, whose name was Callista judging by her nameplate, quickly tapped out a command on her keyboard. "Yep, got you noted down here. I'll show you to Christopher's office... though is the interview for two people? Where's the other one?" Of course. She doesn't know the situation with Talsper. Mark cursed himself. "Um... yeah, he's here. Just not here. If that makes any sense." Dammit.

Callista gave a short laugh. "I've heard worse explanations. Right this way." She got up from her chair and stepped out from behind her desk, indicating a door leading deeper into the building. Mark followed. The two soon reached an office that looked rather spacious judging by what could be seen through the doorway.

"One moment," Callista requested when the two stood before the door. She reached up and tapped a button on the side of the earpiece she wore, turning away for a moment. "Excuse me, Christopher? You have a new applicant waiting at your office... Mark Robinson. Alright." She turned back to Mark. "Take a seat and he'll be with you shortly." She gave Mark a smile before walking away, presumably back to her desk at the lobby.

Not too long after that, Christopher came into the office to greet the new hero. "Good day to you, mister Robinson. I apologize for being away when you came, but sometimes I just need to stretch my legs and get social with the people I hire." He walked over to his desk and sat down in his chair. "You're here for an interview, I can presume. Tell me a bit about yourself."

Mark inwardly cringed in his chair. He never enjoyed that kind of question, particularly from potential employers. "Um... well, there's a couple of things I figure would be interesting to you." He took a moment to mentally get the words right before continuing. "I don't really have any powers or anything, unless you count constant parkour training. My friend here, though..." He pulled the glove off of his right hand, holding it up to show Christophe Talsper's ring.

"What would you say if I told you there was an extraplanar being trapped inside this ring? And that he and I can swap places?"

"I'd tell you that I've seen things that sound more unbelievable than that. I'm sure that you wouldn't believe that, but I also think you wouldn't dismiss it as the ravings of an old man." Christopher chuckled a little. "I would like to meet this friend of yours. After all, this interview is for two people. I only see one person sitting in front of me."

"Fair enough. Talsper, you're up." Mark replaced his glove, allowing Talsper to take over once it was in place. As per usual, the ring began to glow, the golden light soon enveloping his entire hand. Within a minute the man sitting before Christopher was sitting straighter, fingers steepled and gold eyes affixed on the Seraphim leader.

"Hail. I am the being my compatriot hast described. My name be'eth Talsper Rekuhai, Mage from the plane Eniadan," Talsper introduced himself. "Ask, and I shalt answer."

Christopher was impressed with the change between the two. It was obvious to him who was the one in control when they changed, even if he wouldn't have seen the exchange itself. "I'd also like to know more about you, Talsper, if you wouldn't mind telling me. I respect privacy, but I'd like you to be honest with me if you two are to join Seraphim. I'm interested in where you're originally from."

Talsper was more than happy to oblige. "Eniadan is a realm many gates from this one, in which magic is in as much abundance as that which we breathe. Before I was cast out, I was a master of the Aura, bending it to my will with mere thought. I was severed from my talent in a foul parody of the law... who can say what events hath transpired in my absence..." He trailed off temporarily, before remembering where he was at a light mental poke from Mark.

"I hath strayed off-track. As I said, I was cast out from Eniadan, mind and soul trapped in a golden band, and sent here as punishment for crimes that are not on my hands," he continued. "'Tis not to say, however, that I am without capability. Fragments of my power remaineth with me, as does the Aura bound into my ring. I hath taught Mark the use of basic shardwalking, thus." To demonstrate, he raised one hand, rerouting a portion of the Aura within himself into conjuring a small silver orb. The sphere gave off thin wisps of smoke due to its below-freezing temperature compared to the air in the office, which was warmer by comparison.

"Very interesting." Christopher said as Talsper stopped and procured an orb of sorts, presumably ice, Christopher thought. "It sounds like Eniadan would be pretty interesting to explore, but I'm guessing that if you knew how to get back, you might be back there already. Either way, my main concern is Earth and its inhabitants. Tell me, what more can you do? How would you and Mark be of assistance to Seraphim?"

Talsper did not answer immediately. Instead he turned his thoughts inward. Hm. 'Tis an interesting question. How dost thou suggest we proceed?

Mark, too, was unsure of how to answer this one. Ehh... I'm not sure. Maybe... maybe tell him we can serve in some sort of fast-moving reconnaissance, or as a team scout. That might work.

Thou art sure? We saw Justicar in action. She is likely a runner herself. Or, more accurately, a flier.

Still. We don't normally take people on head-to-head. Our thing is for me to chase them down and you to ensure they don't escape.

Very well. Talsper refocused his attention on Christopher. "Apologies for the delay. I was conferring with Mark on this matter. We believeth that we wouldst be suited to a scouting role, or... reconnaissance, he said. Mayhap there is a team that could benefit from this?"

"Perhaps. I merely posed the question to see what abilities it was you possessed. I am glad to see that the two of you seem to talk to each other about matters, although I hope that it won't happen too often on the battlefield. It wouldn't do good for you two to get attacked at a vulnerable time such as right now when you two were talking to each other." Christopher took a look at Talsper for a moment, viewing how different he really was in posture from Mark, before continuing. "If there are any questions you two have for me, you're welcome to ask. I'm certain that you've got some for me."

Again the two spoke mentally, for only a few seconds this time. Mark and Talsper exchanged places a second time: once Mark's eyes changed back to their usual green, and he relaxed backwards in his chair, he spoke up again. "We only have a couple of questions. First, do you have medical staff on the premises? I ask out of curiosity and interest in not losing any limbs." It stood to reason that Seraphim would have medical equipment and personnel, but Mark just wanted to check.

"Secondly, we would both need places to exercise our abilities. Um... for myself, some form of physical assault course or other place to practice parkour. And for Talsper, a room that can be damaged without consequence or repaired easily."

"We've got plenty of medical staff you can contact if you need anything. They've got a cure for almost anything and are equipped with advanced medical technology to get our heroes out on the field as soon as possible. I would advise going to see them after a particularly dangerous mission." Christopher answered his first question. "As for a place to exercise your abilities, both are available. You'll be able to find them pretty quickly when you take a look at which floors they're on. There are several floors in a row exclusively for practicing abilities. They're specifically labelled as training floors so you'll find them easily."

Christopher decided it was enough sitting for now for him, so he stood up and walked towards the window in his office and motioned for Mark to come by his side as he faced the window. "I should let you know that being a hero is never easy, no matter how much you might think it is. You need to be ready for danger. Your parkour skills might work in the right environment, but if you get caught off guard or are put in an environment where you can't use your parkour, you're going to be in trouble unless Talsper saves you with his powers. Once we're done here, I'd advise you to go to our armoury and find yourself a set of armour you'd like. I'm not talking about the kind knights of old used to wear. It's more of a special armour you can put on, wouldn't be noticed, still gives you room for enough movement and protects you from most things. It's not without flaws, but it's better than getting caught out in the open without means to protect yourself from a surprise attack."

"I'll look into it when I get the chance," Mark noted. "And... well, yeah, I figured this kind of thing wasn't all smiles, waves and celebrity appearances. We can fight, but it's not my forte. That's what the six-hundred-year-old mage in the ring is for."

Christopher chuckled at that response. "It seems you're ready, then. Welcome to Seraphim, Mark and Talsper. You'll find a staff member outside the office who'll show you to your apartment. She'll have the keys to it and will hand them to you." He walked over to Mark with his hand out to shake Mark's.

[hr]

A handshake later, Mark had spoken with the staff member in question, and received keys and a map of the Seraphim building. Now came the process of moving in. The suitcases were hoisted out of his car, and promptly loaded into... an elevator. Another thing Mark disliked, due to its small interior. The map he'd received detailed each floor, so he hit the button to take him to the apartment level.

Thankfully, the lift ride was faster than the interview. Upon stepping out into the hall, Talsper recalled the instructions the staff member had given. Left, then third on the right.

"Yes, thank you. Had that covered," Mark noted aloud as he approached the door in question. There was a name-plate on the door: empty, with a slot to fit a piece of paper inside. He opened the door with his key and began hauling his possessions just inside the door. Proper unpacking would be dealt to later.

 

[Baldrek]

A news broadcast was running idly in the background as Waldemar sat reading one of the local papers, a fresh cup of coffee emanating a refreshing scent from its place on the table in front of him. He liked to keep informed about what was going on and though the American newspapers all seemed to have some kind of ideological bias or other he had found one he quite liked after some trail and error. Well, as long as he kept away from the finance section anyway. It had become standard routine to have the paper delivered on his doorstep every morning, a small taste of the normal life while he worked with Seraphim. Looking up from an article about some ongoing repairs below 12th street, Waldemar's gaze wandered to the laptop on the coffee table. Sure, he guessed that he could just browse the online versions of whatever paper he wanted, but there was just something relaxing about reading it the old fashioned way.

Getting back to his paper again and flipping the page to a more interesting piece of news, he found his thoughts wandering towards his first mission with Seraphim. A mission that, in hindsight at least, could have gone much better. They had apparently met a villain that Seraphim hadn't had many dealings with in the past, so the information they returned with was worth a bit of work, granted. But he still felt like he could have done better, there was still a person willing to cause that much chaos just for a few boxes of medicine out and about after all. Just what exactly he could have done differently was something he had gone over in his head a couple of times by now too, but no matter, it wasn't like an exact scenario like that was ever going to happen again, so it was wasted thinking.

Taking a good sip from his coffee he resumed his reading, turning over another page, there didn't seem to be too many interesting news today. But at least Specter had managed to heal up fine from his injury, Seraphim had to be commended for the quick response time of their medical staff. Waldemar hadn't even had time to reach Specter, much less do anything useful, before they had arrived on the scene. And their medical technology was top notch as well, he'd gone to see Specter once during his recovery and the machines and medical expertise of the personnel had astounded him. If more tech like that was created and distributed he had no doubt that the overall level of medical care would increase. Still, like with so many other of Seraphim's creations they probably needed components and maintenance far in excess of what a normal hospital could provide, not to mention the money involved. And besides, Seraphim didn't seem like an organization that would withhold such important info without a very good reason, maybe he'd ask one of the technicians or engineers about it one day.

Come to think of it, it had been two weeks since he arrived in America now hadn't it? He felt like time had flown past as he had gotten settled into this new job, or well, he wasn't that convinced that it could fully be called a job. It wasn't exactly a job in the sense that you have set hours and a certain amount of work to do, more like they were required to be on watch 24/7 just in case something happened. And for the last two weeks nothing had happened, or well, nothing that he had been asked to participate in at any rate. Sometimes he wondered if that was due to his powers being rather limited, or if it was due to his inexperience with these matters. Might be because of the jet lag too now that he thought about it.

Drinking the rest of his coffee he folded up the newspaper and put it down on the table, didn't seem like any news caught his eye today, he'd have to remember to dispose of it in the paper trash later. Heading over to the small kitchen he washed the used cup and dried it off before putting it back where it belonged, he might as well head up to the range to try and improve his marksmanship. It was an activity that he had taken to pass the time with, seeing as he was helpless without his powers he thought that he should at least know how to use a handgun somewhat accurately as a backup. And as such he had taken to training with a set of leather gloves to keep his abilities in check, since he had no way of knowing if he was actually improving or not if he did so barehanded.

Walking over to the wardrobe door, Waldemar opened it and pushed the suits and other clothes that he had bought to one side of it, exposing a stainless steel cabinet. Retrieving a key from his pocket he unlocked it and withdrew the smaller of two aluminum cases from inside before promptly locking it up again. He didn't feel comfortable having firearms lying around unsecured in the apartment and had asked for a secure storage cabinet to be installed for that very reason. It wasn't that he didn't trust his fellow superheroes, but it seemed wholly irresponsible to not lock up such dangerous things when they were not in use.

Heading towards the entrance he put on his shoes and suit jacket before heading out with the small case in hand, he'd get some ammunition once he had arrived at the range he figured as he locked the door behind him. Heading over to the elevator as he whistled a little tune. Strange that firearms practice had become so common for an anesthesiologist.

 

[Pm0n3y]

Justin awoke with a start. Not out a bad dream per se, but because his stomach decided that now was the best time to start the day. In the organ's defense, it was late in the midday. Mixed with the odd jobs Seraphim's had assigned during the day, and the semi-daily classes (and resulting homework he'd receive from said classes) he's assigned himself at night, sleeping was one of the things he had to put on the backburner. But, today (or, more specifically, last night and sometime until he's called for a task) was considered one of his free days. Or, about as free as it was gonna get.

"Hrmmm...Hungerrrrr..." He growled through a voice filled with phlegm. He reached out towards his nightstand, to get a hold of his phone. Instead, he only managed to grab air. Opening his eyes a bit wider, he realized his nightstand was not where he would've expected it. And upon fully opening his eyes and sitting up, he realized that he wasn't in Harlem. It became clear to him that, even though he's been a part of the Seraphim's services for about two weeks now, he still had some trouble adjusting to the apartment's living arrangements. He eventually located his phone, and the screen lit up against the darkness of the room as he checked the time.

"Well, I guess it's time to get up..." He began to remove himself from the bed, and his stomach made more noise. With the thought of breakfast hastily blaring in his mind, he grabbed his other, bigger, company-owned phone. He let out a yawn as he dialed a number into the touchscreen. His stomach wondered why it took for long for sustenance to be acquired, and rumbled some more as a result. "Eugh...Shut uuuup, I know, I know." He replied as he put the phone up to his face. Someone on the receiving end made themselves known, and (in true Justin fashion) was promptly interrupted by the boy. "Yeah, lemme get a bacon, egg, and cheese omelette, hash browns, OJ, and coffee. Room 1218. Name, Justin Case." And then he hung up.

Upon opening the huge venetian blinds that covered a large majority of his bedroom's wall, he-"Gah! fuck!"-immediately closed them back, as to not be visually assaulted by the bright rays of day. With the speed of a lazy glacier, he began to migrate across the living room area towards the the bathroom, hoping his breakfast would be delivered by the time he was done taking a shower. "Hmmm, what should I do today? Should I study, or should I work on the Awe some? Hell, i'm smart enough. I can do both! Or I could do neither, and just use this day to slack off..." He pondered as the water he prepped rose to his prefered temperature.

 

[SkyeNeko]

The cold waters of the Artic were pleasing. Ianthe's long body slid through the calm ocean, rhythmically breaking the surface. The spines on her back rose like the masts of a ship above the water. She snorted, sending a spout of water out.

There's an unidentified object showing up on the radar. It's not a ship... maybe a submarine?
It's going too fast, we can't reroute
Shoot the damn thing then, it's only a whale

Ianthe dove, searching lazily for something to eat, when something fast jet by her. It scraped by her before exploding below. The shockwave hit her hard, and she was thrown through the water. She would not be bested by this creature, not even half her size, nor half her speed. She turned and charged at it, sinking her teeth into the side. It only dented the metal, not puncturing the hull.

What the hell!? What is that!? Alert the captain! We can't take another hit!

She circled back and rammed into the side. It was hard, tough. But it wasn't that tough.

[hr]

Department of the Navy
Office of the Chief of Naval Operations
Washington, DC 20350​

October 3, 2012

To Director Christopher Adelbert

A few of our submarines have been disappearing in the North Atlantic. Their last known coordinates are within a few miles of each other. More importantly, we have reason to suspect that it was not an attack by another hostile nation. The last broadcasts are recorded, and included in the envelope. They are all very similar, with all of them mentioning a "large creature" and a "leviathan". We're not equipped to handle this sort of incident, and are therefore requesting that you follow up on this matter. Also included are pictures from the only recovered submarine: the Alligator. So far, we have only lost 3 subs, and we are not sure if this is the cause of all the incidents, but we would like this matter taken care of before it becomes any bigger an issue.

It was signed by one of the Directors, and stamped with an official seal. There were several pictures and a CD inside. The pictures showed a trashed submarine, with several bite marks.

 

[Baldrek]

Waldemar started absentmindedly whistling another familiar tune on his way towards the elevators, moving out of the way for a male employee carrying a tray that gave of the unmistakable smell of fresh toast. It seemed like there were always people going to and fro here on the residential floors, if it wasn't the supers themselves it was the personnel entrusted with taking care of them. At this particular time of day they seemed to have a single oft repeated duty, that of getting breakfast to the various meta humans living here. Sometimes he found himself wondering if he might do just as much good working for Seraphim in the usual sense rather than as a superhero, which he still found to be a ridiculous job title to be honest. Though he wouldn't be any good as standard staff, he didn't really have a very service minded attitude, or so he had been told. But working as a medical staffer would probably work out fine.

He stopped and contemplated this a little bit more, he didn't really want to stop helping Seraphim as a super, but he did have a lot of free time. He guessed that if he presented his credentials and received the proper training like the rest of the medical staff he could be of some use during his off hours as well. It could work, and it would help him keep his doctoring sharp as well. Though there might possibly be a bit more red tape to get through than just 'give papers and you're in'. He might for example need to get an American doctors license issued first, among other things.

Deciding to pay the Hospital section a visit later in the day, Waldemar stopped in front of the elevator and pressed the button, waiting just a couple of seconds for it to arrive. Entering it and pressing the button for the training floor he wondered if he had improved at all with his firearm, he would have to correlate his score today with the previous ones he had logged. He liked to write them down, it gave him something concrete to aim for, to improve on, and it also let him see his progress and ask for advice if something seemed off. And at least to start with things were frequently off, but one of the Seraphim staff up at the range had kindly pointed out his mistakes and helped him with that.

As the elevator stopped on the training floor, he exited and went straight for the range, showing his ID to the security guard before being let in. Once inside he looked around to see if Lynne was around, who was the aforementioned Seraphim employee who sometimes helped him while supervising the range. However, it didn't seem like she was here today, though that didn't surprise him, she seemed to generally work in the afternoons after all.

Picking out an empty range, of which there were many this early in the day, Waldemar opened the aluminum case he had brought along and retrieved a pistol and a notebook from it before setting it down out of the way. He then proceeded to press the intercom button and ask for a couple of cases of ammunition, putting on his ear protection and the safety glasses as he waited for them to arrive. Once they had he put on his leather gloves and got to work, scribbling his score into the notebook as he trained.

 

[socialtangent]

'Awesome!'

The new outfit Kurt had ordered from Seraphim R&D was perfect. Everything was brand new, save for his leather jacket. It took a while to remove the blood stains, but there was no way he was going to throw it out. He had a new shirt, this one a darker shade of grey than the last one, and made of a thicker, more sturdy fabric. Underneath the shirt, he had new protective padding. It wasn't precisely Kevlar and the exact name eluded him, but it protected him from his upper chest down to his waist and R&D reassured him it was rated highly against small-caliber firearms and knives. Perhaps the most incredible thing about it was that it was so light. Normally, ballistic protection of this quality would be thick and heavy, but this padding didn't impede Kurt's movement in the slightest.

In addition, he had a new mask. It was of the same design as his old one, but more sleek and streamlined. It made him look less like a paintball player and more of an actual, serious crimefighter. Kurt couldn't help but admire his new look in the mirror and feel a little invigorated. For the first time in his career as Spectre, he actually looked sort of badass. At least, he thought so. While he was riding on the sudden surge of confidence, he contemplated going back to the R&D desk to see if Natalie was still there. Maybe it was just him, but he felt like they were hitting it off pretty well. Sure, they only had brief conversations when Kurt came to check on his requests, but he was convinced there was something between them. The thought had been lingering in the back of his mind for a while. Since today was looking to be an uneventful one, now as good a time as any to give it a shot.

'Ask her out for some coffee. No harm in that, is there?'

Kurt changed out of his gear and threw on a black shirt and some jeans. He put his hand on the door knob and took a deep breath.

'Just two adults having a social gathering after work. Not a date. Don't call it a date.'

He exited the room, locking the door behind him. As he turned to head to the elevator, he noticed someone hefting a couple of boxes into a room. A newcomer, perhaps? Curious, Kurt approached the doorway. Inside was a man who looked approximately his age setting the boxes in the empty room. Kurt knocked on the wall.

"Hey there. Moving in?"

 

[PrinceOfShapeir]

"Miss Dehannsen, please come in."

Arlana stepped through the door, currently in her true, Gargoyle form, her wings folded over her new armor. She had been very impressed with the technosorcery that they had come up with in the laboratories. She had requested a suit of armor that she could carry with her while in her Human form without it being obvious and without difficulty. What they had come up with was incredible. They had called it Living Metal. While it was quite heavy, in her Human form it was contained along the strongest muscles of her back, making it a negligible burden compared to the benefits. It was easily removed when she did not desire to bear it, as well.

When deployed, however, the metal would cover her body from throat to toe, forming into small, flexible silvery scales over her body. She didn't have a helmet as yet - apparently getting the metal to form holes for breathing and sight was problematic - but it was quite effective for both retaining her modesty and making her far more intimidating in battle. Plus the metal was more resilient than her flesh.

She wasn't happy about being dragged into this meeting, though. Just before this she had been informed that the Lance she had requested had finally been completed by the Armory and she was eager to see what they had come up with.

"Please sit down."

She started to sit.

"Um, could you transform back into your Human form?"

"Not right this second..."

"Then maybe you should stand."

She remained standing, staring down at the accountant.

"Miss Dehannsen, I'll be blunt." She had to give it to the little, weedy, balding man - he had stones. She knew and she suspected he knew that she could squash his head like a grape, and here he was dressing her down. The mind of a lawyer and the heart of a lion. Ah, Humans. "Your behavior as an agent of Seraphim has been...spotty. While your dedication and courage are not in question, your zealousness is a bit...much. If I may recite some files...April 3rd, you shattered a mugger's jaw and four ribs. April 9th, you threw a rock at a purse snatcher so hard it had to be surgically removed from his abdomen. April 15th, you...oh, God. Let's skip that one." He closed the file and flipped open another one.

"This one is probably the most...off. You jumped on a man, breaking his collarbone, two ribs, and his femur apprehending him for the crime of dine and dash."

"Ah, yes."

She remembered the scene well, flying over the city. The cries of "Stop, thief!" Below her, and a man stumbling out of the bathroom window of Matilda's Fine Dining, his pants around his ankles as he fled the scene of his crime, the bereaved businesswoman yelling and chasing after him, but unable to pursue and bring justice to the thieving vagabond with her fat, short legs. Arlana had descended from the sky like a hunting falcon, smashing him to the ground and giving the owner the thirteen dollars and nine cents she was rightly owed. It was only a small thing, but it was a little piece of justice restored.

"Righteous punishment."

"Does the phrase 'proportionate response' mean anything to you?"

"Proportionate response...no."

"No." The man sighed and took a drink from his coffee mug, rubbing his shiny, balding head. "Miss Dehannsen, I genuinely appreciate your enthusiasm for the pursuit of law and justice, but maybe you could let these trivial crimes go and just focus on things like bank robberies and supervillainy?"

"And just let muggers go?"

"Well, no, obviously, but you could just grab them and give them to the cops. They're no threat to you."

"They're a threat to everything. Law and Order must be maintained. Justice is blind, is it not? And the response to these crimes should likewise be blind."

"...Look, Miss Dehannsen, let's just give it a try. You'll get more rest and be more prepared to fight the true threats if you allow our police forces to do their jobs. They're quite competent, I assure you."

She paused for a moment, contemplating. "Very well, Sir Gibson. I will allow your men to do their work. But I will be watching them closely."

"...Excellent. Thank you, Miss Dehannsen." As Arlana left, Gibson facepalmed.

After leaving Gibson's office, she headed for the elevator, heading up towards the research and development division.

 

[CounterAttack]

Just as Mark set down one of the last suitcases to unpack, he heard a knock on the wall next to his door and a voice.

"Hey there. Moving in?"

He straightened up and turned to face the speaker, leaning up against the door's frame. It was a guy much like himself, though he wore his hair longer than Mark did and the traceur tended not to wear heavier clothes like jeans. They weighed you down when you wanted to move quickly, which was his MO.

"Yeah, my friend and I just finished up the application interview a short while back," he answered. "Name's Mark Robinson. I don't really have any powers to speak of, though. Just my parkour training. The real 'hero', I guess you could say, is this guy here." He held up his right hand, indicating Talsper's ring on his finger. "Talsper Rekuhai, a six-hundred-year-old mage from another plane of reality." He wasn't boasting or anything - Mark wasn't inclined to do so - just stating the facts.

 

[socialtangent]

"Talsper Rekuhai, a six-hundred-year-old mage from another plane of reality."

'A six hundred year old wha?'

Kurt's eyes drifted to the ring. It might as well had been glowing white hot, if his "ghost sense" had anything to say about it. Mark wasn't lying, there definitely was a spirit confined to the ring. And something about its presence was different. Kurt had encountered enough denizens of the spirit realm to tell that this 'Talsper' definitely wasn't from there.

"That's definitely...something," he thought aloud before catching himself. "Sorry. The name's Kurt. Even if you didn't tell me about that ring, I would've asked you about it anyway. To make it short, I'm in tune with the spirits. I can tell when one's around." Kurt pointed to the ring. "You can see where I'm going with this."

 

[CounterAttack]

"Hmm... spirits, eh? I wouldn't know about that..." Mark trailed off, unsure of how best to explain. [color=007FFF]Art thou stuck for words?[/color] Talsper inquired, having been listening in on the conversation.

"Not stuck, just... not really sure where to begin," Mark answered, speaking aloud for Kurt's benefit.

[color=007FFF]Then begin at the beginning, and we shalt see where the tale endeth.[/color]

"Alright..." Mark refocused his attention on Kurt. "Talsper isn't really a spirit, per se. His mind was trapped inside the ring by enchantments, as punishment for a crime he didn't commit. His home plane, Eniadan, is full of magical power, called the Aura, and people who can harness it," he added to explain the mention of enchantments. "The ring was thrown out of Eniadan by a... a gate, he calls it, and it landed here on Earth. I found the ring when I was out on a run. It was a while before I tried it on and understood its purpose... it all sounds a bit like the plot to one of those comic-book movies, only it's real." Mark couldn't remember the movie's name, but continued speaking anyway.

"Anyone wearing the ring can communicate with Talsper telepathically, and given a minute or so they can switch places with him to give him control over their body," he continued. "So if he were in control, I would be inside the ring. It's not entirely confining, though. It's like... looking over your own shoulder while someone else moves you around."

 

[Lambi]

Two weeks had passed now since he'd gone outside. He had found out just how long he could last without a charge in those two weeks when he thought to test it and went without a charge until he really needed it. He didn't want the same thing to happen to him, however he didn't have much in the lab for waterproofing himself. "

We thought there was something usable here, but apparently we thought wrong. These useless scientists didn't think of waterproofing their equipment? How idiotic of them. But we will prevail. Who says we have to go near water? We will just keep our distance.

" His monologue over with, he thought over everything he needed. He got everything except being waterproof, so it was time to head outside again.

Fresh air. Or it would be weren't it for what these humans had done to it. He'd complained about it before, but it bore repeating. This time, perhaps he would stay a bit lower than the first time he'd gone outside. Not that it would be easy for him, considering he looked nothing like a human. He didn't want to look different. He was superior in every way. He was his own race. The only terminology he could think of was cyborg, but it mattered not what race he called himself. All that mattered was showing these other people who was on top, who was the best, who was the ruler.

"

Oh, this will be fun.

" he said in his monotone voice without any facial expressions as he walked towards New York. People looked towards him and wondered just who that strange person was, why he was naked and whether this was some strange cosplay. A couple of idiots approached him and started to harass him. "What's up with your outfit, weirdo? You some kind of nudist or something?"

He just turned his head towards them and grabbed one of them by their throats. He wasn't strong enough to lift them, but he was strong enough to hold the person and not allow them to be released. "

We are beings far more advanced than you ever will be. Now suffer for your words, insolent maggot.

" He spread a disease through the person's skin, a disease which made his skin feel like it was burning all over, a pain that couldn't be taken away and wouldn't kill the person. This time, Virus didn't make the disease spread through air or touch when it would attract too much attention, but he let the person go as they screamed in pain, running off towards who knew where just to find a way to relieve the pain. "

A festering disease on the planet. That is what you are, and that is what you deserve to get in return.

" He wasn't walking anymore since everyone was running away from him.

He ran quickly towards another person, grabbing them and spreading another disease, this time it was one that liquefied their bones slowly so they would feel every ounce of pain and be unable to do anything about it. Another person was grabbed and given a disease that made them continuously vomit without a break, not stopping until there were no other fluids to vomit out. This is what happened to those who would dare leave a stain on the planet, those who were responsible for what happened to him, who made him what he now was. Or so he assumed, because he wouldn't have done this to himself.
[hr]
With the letter in hand, Christopher knew he had to assemble a team to go where the monster had been sighted. He took the CD and played it on his computer. It played out the broadcasts that had been mentioned in the letter, and sure enough, there were mentions of some large monster or a leviathan. What kind of team would be best to send to it, he wondered.

As he did, he got a call on his phone from one of his scanners. He picked it up and held it against his ear. "What have you seen?" he asked. "We've spotted some kind of thing in the south part of the city which is apparently causing everyone to receive some kind of pain. We believe he's doing something that involves coming in contact with others." Christopher thanked him for the report and hung up. Now he needed to make two teams. How in the world was he going to do that?

After a moment of thought, he picked up his phone and dialed three numbers, for Markus, Justin and Kurt. He gave them the following message. "Markus, Justin and Kurt. Or respectively, Faraday, Brainstorm and Spectre. I have a mission for you three to deal with. All of you, head towards the roof of Seraphim. You are to take a helicopter from there to the North Atlantic to take care of a leviathan that's causing trouble over there. The pilot in the helicopter will know where to go."

He hung up, then dialed the next three numbers for Arlana, Waldemar and Mark. "Arlana, Waldemar and Mark. I'm sending you three on a mission to the south of the city. Someone seems to be spreading something amongst the citizens that's causing them severe pain. I need you all to deal with the threat and take it out. Waldemar and Mark, a car and a driver will be provided for you to take towards the south of New York where Arlana should meet you." He hung up again and sat back in his chair, putting his phone away. Hopefully the two teams would be able to dispatch of the two threats.

 

[PrinceOfShapeir]

Arlana stepped into the laboratory. "I was called, I believe?"

One of the technicians straightened up from his work, removing a sparking implement from a massive rifle as tall as Arlana with a barrel large enough for her to stick her arm into. "Ah, Arlana. We had a little trouble with your request."

"Really? After the armor I would not have thought a simple spear would have been difficult for you."

"Difficult? No, the spear wasn't difficult. But ma'am, I like to think of myself as an artist, not just a forgemaster. We had to work out a way to give it a little more flair, a little more je ne sais quois."

"What is je ne sais quois?"

"I don't know what."

"You don't know what it is and you said it?"

"No, it's..." The technician paused, looked at the Gargoyle. "Nevermind." He picked up a case from one of the lockers and set it on a table, flipping it open. "What do you think?"

Arlana looked into the case, cocking an eyebrow at what was within. It was a sword - an extremely large greatsword in Human hands, although in her grasp it would be wieldable with either one or both hands with relative ease. While it wasn't overly decorated, the craftsmanship was undeniable, the blade a shining, brightly polished silver with edges that were visibly razor sharp. It looked to be entirely steel, or some kind of cousin metal to it. The grip was coated in some kind of hard black substance with a pebbled texture that fit comfortably in her hand and didn't slip.

"Mark."

"Nathan."

"Right, Nathan. I asked for a spear."

"Ah!" He held out his hand for it. "If I may?"

She gave him a quizzical look, but nodded, handing over the weapon. He took it with some difficulty, putting the point into the floor before twisting and pulling the hilt. Before her eyes the hilt lengthened. "It's a variable length hilt You can reduce it down so that it only fits one hand, or extend it up to ten feet, giving you a total of a little over fifteen feet of reach. Don't think you'll need that much often, but this was no trouble." He handed the weapon back to her, and she manipulated the length, sliding it back and forth. "Primary body is crafted out of a new steel alloy. The grip is telescopic, hollow rods, made of the same substance after being coated in a thin layer of Darwin Bark Spider silk. I won't tell you it's unbreakable - nothing is - but you don't have the strength to damage it, we tested it on quite a lot. Came out more or less without a scratch. Let us see it after some hard combat, though, we might have to reapply the Graphene layer. Twist the length to unlock it, pull to adjust length, twist again to lock it."

She quickly found herself becoming adept at rapidly changing the length. This was a marvelous weapon, she wished she could have had something like this before. Able to transition from fighting with a pike to a half-spear to a sword with just a movement of a hand. Give her a few hours to practice and she would be death on the wind.

"Forgive my doubt. You've outdone yourself once again. Thank you."

Nathan turned a little red and scratched his head. "It was nothing. Happy to help. Hey, um..."

Her earpiece buzzed. "Pardon me. Duty calls." She tapped her ear. "Arlana here."

"Arlana, Waldemar and Mark. I'm sending you three on a mission to the south of the city. Someone seems to be spreading something amongst the citizens that's causing them severe pain. I need you all to deal with the thread and take it out. Waldemar and Mark, a car and a driver will be provided for you to take towards the south of New York where Arlana should meet you."

"I'm on my way." She tapped her earpiece, then sprinted out of the lab, heading for roof access. She tapped her earpiece again. "Patch me through to Waldemar and Mark." Once the operator had complied and she was patched through, she spoke. "This is Arlana, I'm on my way to roof access."

 

[Arcanist]

Marcus awoke to the harsh sound of his phone ringing, his head still swimming and his limbs heavy as though somebody had replaced them with lead analogues. The last couple of weeks hadn't been pleasant - he'd spent many sleepless nights awake in Seraphim's tech labs working on his latest device or scouting out possible coaches for hand-to-hand combat training. The beating he received on his last mission was unacceptable - his incompetence had put his teammates in danger. If he couldn't protect them, at the very least, his reason for joining Seraphim was moot at best.

Turning to his nightstand, he sluggishly picked up his phone, only to snap to attention when he saw the name on the caller ID.

'Adelbert.'

Accepting the call and placing the phone to his ear, he listened to the message with rapt attention:

"Markus, Justin and Kurt. Or respectively, Faraday, Brainstorm and Spectre. I have a mission for you three to deal with. All of you, head towards the roof of Seraphim. You are to take a helicopter from there to the North Atlantic to take care of a leviathan that's causing trouble over there. The pilot in the helicopter will know where to go."

'The north Atlantic?' He couldn't help but groan. Why did fate insist on having him fight enemies near water? 'Good thing I prepped the Capacitor. I get the feeling we won't have many power sources out there...' Hauling himself out of bed, he snatched a doughnut from his fridge before slinging on his gear and dashing out the door. Stepping into the elevator, he pressed the button signifying roof access and leaned back, waiting for the elevator to do its magic. He took the break as an opportunity to calibrate his suite and reflect on his new teammate.

'I know Justin, but I've yet to meet this 'Spectre'. I certainly hope he can take a punch...'

 

[Pm0n3y]

As expected of Justin, his shower lasted a considerably lengthy amount of time. A wall of residue steam billowed out of the bathroom as he stepped out, coating the wall adjacent with precipitation. With one towel draped around his waist, another, smaller one, was used to tussle his hair dry. Only once he moved into the living room, did he notice the sound of a hand rapping against the entrance of his house. Justin could only assume it was his breakfast. Answering the door, sure enough, a man dressed in a staff uniform presented Justin his meal, a fairly large (yet classily embellished) metal tray balanced on a free hand. Reliving the staff member of his duties, Justin took hold of the tray himself with both hands, taking a few steps back before promptly kicking the door shut.

"Aww yehh. Breakfast time." He yipped to himself, migrating to the couch. With the tray set down on the table ahead of him, he began to dig in. As he ate, however, he caught glimpse of his company phone. A LED light blinked on its surface, indicating that he had a voice message. "Must've missed a call when I was in the shower." As the screen came to life, he grimaced as he realized who the call was coming from, the big guy himself. "Dammit Chris, today was gonna be my day off..." He reluctantly played the message, his own comments sprinkled throughout.

"Markus, Justin and Kurt. Or respectively, Faraday, Brainstorm and Spectre."

"Ugh. I was hoping he wouldn't actually use that name..."

"I have a mission for you three to deal with. All of you, head towards the roof of Seraphim."

"Well...okay...that's different..."

"You are to take a helicopter from there to the North Atlantic..."

"Wha...what?"

"...to take care of a leviathan that's causing trouble over there."

"WHAT?!"

"The pilot in the helicopter will know where to go."

"NONONONO, you just don't end it like that, Chris! WHAT?!?"

The message ended. Justin was in a stupor. Eyes bulged wide and mouth left agape as his mission briefing settled into his mind. It sounded like something big. Something he wasn't expecting. Something he was hilariously unprepared for. "W-well, as long as I get paid at the end of the day..." He tried to reassure himself. His heart bumped rapidly in his chest as he got dressed. He reached for his goggles and kerchief after putting on his jacket.

"Well, at least now i'll be able to see how the Awe works against giant sea monsters." He murmured as he put his bookbag on, the glove sliding on over his dominant hand. The company phone was the last thing he grabbed before departing from the loft. As he began towards the elevator, he flipped one of the switches that were present on the Awe's wrist-mounted console. As it quietly whirred to life, Justin could almost feel the electricity surging through his fingers.

"Kinda wish I had some more free time these past weeks, this thing doesn't look intimidating at all." He mumbled in a grump. As the elevator opened for him, he powered down the gauntlet before stepping in, not trying to cause any sort of accident. With that, the elevator rose to the roof level.

 

[socialtangent]

Usually, Kurt would have been skeptical about Mark's story. But after he, who could talk to ghosts and shoot ectoplasm, fought a man using high-tech holograms with the assistance of a supernaturally skilled marksman doctor and a Gargoyle, anything sounded plausible. An extra-planar mind bound to a ring worn by a free runner was sane by comparison.

"Well, that's definitely something." He paused. "Sorry, I've seen a lot of odd things and I've only been here for a few weeks. Where'd you get the ring anywa-"

Kurt's phone rang. With a mumbled apology, he pulled the device out of his pocket and answered it.

"...Faraday, Brainstorm and Spectre. I have a mission for you three to deal with. All of you, head towards the roof of Seraphim. You are to take a helicopter from there to the North Atlantic to take care of a leviathan that's causing trouble over there. The pilot in the helicopter will know where to go."

Kurt stared at his phone for a moment in disbelief. Did Christopher mean what he thought he meant? Because Kurt was pretty sure that 'leviathan' meant 'giant sea monster.' "This job just gets weirder every day," he mumbled. He looked back up at Mark. "Duty calls. Catch you around," he said quickly as he sprinted back to his room to gear up.

'Fight giant sea monster. Then ask Natalie out for coffee. Solid plan.'

In little time at all, he was in uniform and on the elevator heading for the roof. When he reached the roof level, Kurt spotted the helicopter waiting at one of the several helipads. At least, he thought it was a helicopter. The aircraft was something straight out of a science fiction film, resembling a cross between a helicopter and an airplane. It had no rotors, instead boasting thrusters on both wings. Kurt let out a low whistle as he approached the aircraft. Seraphim was not just ahead of the curve, they had a running start.