Uhm, for one, the building is a girl's school in Canada, not a cathedral... >.> Which I would have elaborated on... And when entering one of Dubois' illusions, it isn't nearly that easy to escape- it's far easier to get lost in emotions than to control them. She essentially locks you in your mind, makes your mind blank to forget temporarily who and where you are.
Uhm, for one, the building is a girl's school in Canada, not a cathedral... >.> Which I would have elaborated on... And when entering one of Dubois' illusions, it isn't nearly that easy to escape- it's far easier to get lost in emotions than to control them. She essentially locks you in your mind, makes your mind blank to forget temporarily who and where you are.
Sorry. I thought that since it was french, it would be somewhere in Europe, and since the girl only had a slight accent in french and was asking if Damien was the Russian, so I thought it was England. And also I thought extreme emotions could overcome a mind block. Rose's memories are the most extreme Damien has. They are quite literally the key to his psyche.
Uhm, for one, the building is a girl's school in Canada, not a cathedral... >.> Which I would have elaborated on... And when entering one of Dubois' illusions, it isn't nearly that easy to escape- it's far easier to get lost in emotions than to control them. She essentially locks you in your mind, makes your mind blank to forget temporarily who and where you are.
Sorry. I thought that since it was french, it would be somewhere in Europe, and since the girl only had a slight accent in french and was asking if Damien was the Russian, so I thought it was England. And also I thought extreme emotions could overcome a mind block. Rose's memories are the most extreme Damien has. They are quite literally the key to his psyche.
Nope. As I stated, the illusions feed of emotions. So a stronger emotion would actually make the mind lock stronger. I wanted you guys to figure this out on your own, but an imperfection in the illusion must be found, doubt established, and logic developed to escape the illusion.
Sigh. Whatever. Ignore my last post, then. I'll start over or something tomorrow. I have to get ready for school. Knew I should have just stuck with a fireball-flinger or something..
Uhm, for one, the building is a girl's school in Canada, not a cathedral... >.> Which I would have elaborated on... And when entering one of Dubois' illusions, it isn't nearly that easy to escape- it's far easier to get lost in emotions than to control them. She essentially locks you in your mind, makes your mind blank to forget temporarily who and where you are.
Sorry. I thought that since it was french, it would be somewhere in Europe, and since the girl only had a slight accent in french and was asking if Damien was the Russian, so I thought it was England. And also I thought extreme emotions could overcome a mind block. Rose's memories are the most extreme Damien has. They are quite literally the key to his psyche.
Nope. As I stated, the illusions feed of emotions. So a stronger emotion would actually make the mind lock stronger. I wanted you guys to figure this out on your own, but an imperfection in the illusion must be found, doubt established, and logic developed to escape the illusion.
Sigh. Whatever. Ignore my last post, then. I'll start over or something tomorrow. I have to get ready for school. Knew I should have just stuck with a fireball-flinger or something..
Grah! This is why I don't like posting at night. Hang on...
Edit: Wait a second, look at the post more closely. He gets out because he realizes he was running for his life while jumping off a car, when he suddenly is in England/Canada, talking to a little girl. I think that qualifies. If you say otherwise, I will change it tommorow.
Tailing his target wasn't difficult at all, jumping from rooftop to rooftop with enhanced by his ability made his keep pace with the blue Toyota. everything was fine until he caught a glimpse of something approaching in the distance. From Kris's vantage point atop the roof, he had more time to see the figure of a man barreling towards the street, heading straight for his target. Kris muttered a curse and was about to jump down to street level, but then he saw the man land on the car just behind his target.
Kris payed no attention to the man and the car he had crash landed on, although he did look a bit familiar. He saw his target get out of his blue toyota and head towards a police cruiser followed by another strange sight. The officers just let him in the car and then drove off. This man was definitely using some sort of power to control others. There was just no other way of explaining it.
He adjusted the cloth strips around his head and right eye, a little habit he had developed since the loss of his eye. He decided to keep following his target. If the familiar man kept making such a big ruckus, Kris knew that he would run into the man again. And with that though he took a big leap over the street and towards the direction of the police cruiser. This was proving to be an interesting day.
Trevor wandered around the fair grounds his trenchcoat flapping about in the breeze he craned his neck to the east to see the nearby city of urbis, the sounds of the maintenance workers setting up tents and rides made a subtle background noise he was all too familiar with. He made his way to the hotdog stand his head standing above the decorative umbrella at the top he leaned down and started bartering with the attendant.
"hey, you would`nt mind sparing a hotdog" Trevor asked leaning forward onto the hotdog stand his head pressed against the roof.
"hell no, you actually have to pay to eat here, no exceptions" rick said flatly a look of half-annoyance, half-disapproval spread across his face.
"ugh, fine be that way" and with that Trevor continued walking about the fairgrounds the wind beginning to pick up, he was halfway to the half-assembled tilt-a-whirl before he could hear a squelching noise under his feet he looked down to see what looked like a glowing blue pile of vomit piled around his foot.
"you have got to be kidding me, thing`s not even up yet and some punk has already puked here, goddammit" Trevor sighed as he started shaking the vomit off his foot but for some reason the vomit persisted. Still stuck to his foot the rest of the goo clawed it`s way up to him, he rapidly scrambled for the nearest broom using the blunt end to try and scrape the goo off his leg but to no effect the goo now along his stomach still rapidly advancing. Trevor tried one last time to scrape the goof off with the broom but as before to no success he let out one final scream before the goo slithered across his face entering his still open mouth.
Trevor fell his knees his eyes rolled back into his head as visions of some unknown battle appeared in his head a image of a large steel dome, several blades made of what appeared to be ice and a sudden spray of blood all rapidly flashed before him before finally his vision returned and he awoke to the smell of smoke his body laying in the grass, he rapidly scrambled to his feet shaken by what had happened he looked down to see if the goo was still there what he saw shocked him even more, his entire body was burned into the ground he looked to his hands and saw nothing abnormal about them, Trevor quickly shook his head and headed back to the tent he and the other sideshow freaks all shared, still shaken from the experience.
Nathan sat quietly in the back of the police car, seat belt securely fastened and a Glock 17C (with its holster) was not strapped to his belt.
"Now remember this" he explained to the two officers as they drove into the center of the city
"You couldn't see me at all, I had a black sky mask, Asian accent and was wielding a pistol of some kind when I knocked on your window and stole the Glock. I also had two others with me who were armed in a simaler manner. Got it?"
"Yes sir"
"Understood"
The two officers repeated in bland, emotionless voices. Nathan smiled as he leaned back in the chair. That story should remove any blame from the officers. Perhaps he'd find a few witnesses to help collaborate the story as well...
"Sir? We're being followed"
The driver stated suddenly, although his voice conveyed no sense of worry or concern. Nathan however frowned slightly
"What do you mean?"
He asked, turning around to look behind them.
"On the rooftops to the right of us sir"
"What?!"
Nathan unbuckled his seat belt and scrambled to look out the window and did indeed, see a man following them from rooftop to rooftop.
"Shit!"
He cursed, panic slowly raising in him before he started to slowly calm down as he thought about the situation.
He's simply following me. Perhaps he doesn't want to fight? I have two well trained police officers with me in case things get ugly after all...
"Pull down this alley"
The car slowly turned down a side alley, driving a ways into it before it came to a stop.
Ensuring they were both properly armed, Nathan and the two police officers exited the vehicle.
Reggie heard a thud on the roof of his appartment. He didn't remove his eyes from the newspaper. Instead a small revolver on the coffee table rose into the air. It aimed at the hatchdoor of the roof. He then heard whoever had landed on the roof then run along it and jump off at the other side. The revolver ungracefully dropped to the floor. Supers? To make the jump from this building to the next he must be.
Though coming to this conclusion, Reggie decided to ignore. It wasn't in his best interests in get involved with anything that wasn't his place, or so he had learned.
This post is very long and possibly confusing. If anyone needs a summary or an explanation for something, I'll give one.
"This... this... surge of violence, is the fault of supers!"
The crowded conference room somewhere in the government district of Urbis was filled with bickering officials, the waves of yelling and mayhem growing and billowing over and over again as more inflammatory comments sprung forth. Collars and pits soaked with sweat, faces red, hair jumbled in messes, spittle and hate flinging carelessly in the faces of everyone present. Hands balled to fists and shaking in fury, shoulders squared and eyeballs bloodshot with barely bridled fury.
Chaos. Bedlam. Mayhem. The Grand Deciders, the Watchful Protectors, the Responsible Leaders, reduced to punching each other unconscious and pitching hate-speech at each other in order to solve their problems. Beautiful.
A small pocket of relative order was barely contained near the front of the room, where the Board of Directors tried to hear various "debating" official's opinions.
"This negligence has gone on for far too long!" a middle-aged woman in a fancy, if not a little ruffled business suite proclaimed. "We've known about the existence of supers for nearly six months now, some of us even before that. It's time that this knowledge goes on the record! Supers need to become a publicly recognized group, and then we need to fucking arrest them publicly!"
"You're just trying to free up jobs for your own department, you little witch!" A similarly dressed and aged man spouted from the sidelines, pointing a fat finger at her. "Vigilante supers are doing your work for you, even better than you can! We all know-"
"Shut the hell up, Carl!" The woman screamed.
"She's right!" A younger man said, stepping into the ring. "We've known that supers cause problems for a while now, it was only a matter of time before something like this began."
"You assume this was a super? That's basically racism!" The other man shouted, before being kneed in the gut and doubling over.
"Only a super could have made those killings." The young man continued. "The security was top-notch, the methods used nearly impossible. Only a person with supernatural abilities, like the ones that we all know exist, could be doing this."
"And what is it you suggest we do?" said one of the Board Members, an elderly man with a massive double-chin.
"Just start arresting every super we find!" The woman said, having to yell over the noise. She paused for a moment, shaking her head at the Board's doubting expressions, then continued. "We've been doing it secretly for months now, but none of the supers we've put behind bars have had any incriminating evidence turn up. We're obviously not doing enough. The only option we have is to just clap them all in irons!"
"You don't think that's a bit drastic?" The Board replied.
The sound of a bullhorn suddenly echoed through the room before she could answer. Everyone turned to look at an important-looking man who had just walked into the room. "It's happened again." was all the man said, then flicked on the large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall.
"This just in, another mysterious murder of a high-ranking official." The news lady said. "Judge Bill Malian was killed just hours ago in his home, just after returning from his office. Police reports state that Malian was taking the rest of the day off, returning home during his usual lunch-break to get ready for his seven-year old son's birthday. His body was found by his wife, who came looking for him when he didn't show up at their son's party at Chucky-Cheese's.
Some pictures of the popular kid's restaurant, and then some out of focus, shaky shots of the wife and child being hurried into an armored car and driven away.
"No news cameras have been allowed at the scene, and police officials have declined to comment as of yet. This murder is being strung into a long list of crimes involving high-ranking officials or their close relatives, all of which have seen minimal media attention as far as details are concerned. The scenes have all been covered up, data deleted or stored somewhere safe, and family members spirited away to unknown locations. A lot of speculation has been done around this case, with the popular public opinion beginning to shift towards 'supers', human beings with extraordinary abilities and supernatural powers, as the culprits."
"As far as this specific case is concerned, however..."
********************
"...experts say it's still too early to make any guesses. The murder of Judge Malian does bring up some important security issues, however, and concern for his twenty three year old daughter, Sarah, who still lives near Ubris. Police have already begun to dispatch officers to her house in -
Static. The flickering snow that covered the small screen lit up the dark room in an eerie way, casting strange shadows against the black walls. The green channel number flipped around until it landed on an old black and white film, dramatic music playing in the background as the hero and several deckhands used harpoons to stab desperately at the massive octopus tentacles that wrapped around the sides of their boat.
The edges of the screen seemed to move, tiny black tendrils emerging and slowly creeping inward, as the crewmen were thrown overboard, and the hero pinned to the mast. The damsel screamed as a gigantic octopus arm reached for her, wrapping around her waist and lifting her into the air in a jerky, puppet-like fashion.
The music quickened as more tentacles wrapped around her arms and legs, tugging her this way and that. She screamed again, as the hero struggled against his bonds. The monster pulled her down towards the water, her long legs thrashing in and out of the incredibly small skirt that somehow passed the hard-nosed inspection movies had back then. Waves and slime splashed against her, soaking her body as she continued to scream, holding onto the boat for dear life as the giant octopus kept pulling her downward.
There was a muffled groan from another room. In the darkness, just beyond the television's light, a huge shadow moved, and the sound of a great weight shifting on the floorboards could be heard. The large mass came forward, it's hulking form blacking out the rest of the room, it's shape barely visible as it came just a little bit further into the flickering glow. An oblong shape, maybe a head, came down just above the screen, black droplets of some substance dripping down from it's jaw and splashing on the floor with sickening noises.
There was another groan, this time louder, and mixed with a desperate sob. The massive black figure looked up slightly, and then seemed to grin, a hiss of air escaping it's mouth and fogging the screen. Then it backed away from the television, slowly blending into the utter blackness of the house. The sobbing grew into a steady, muffled scream, as the black tendrils engulfed and shattered the TV screen, just before the hero was about to come to the rescue.
********************
A gray blanket of rain obscured the forest around Sarah Malian's house, the relentless water streaking lines of sorrow across the somber windows and broken walls. A sea of cop cars sat in the driveway, yellow tape surrounded the entire area. An ambulance slowly pulled away, empty-handed. Men in uniform dotted the scene, walking this way and that, their steps slowed and their postures slumped.
Emergency workers were slowly departing, detectives taking their place. A perimeter was established, dogs and armed personnel patrolling the sidelines. No cameras, no coverage, no nothing. People would have to know that she was dead, but that's all they'd have to know. Panic must be averted.
The figure of a man, completely covered in a long coat, wide-brimmed hat, gloves, boots, glasses, and a mask, slowed worked it's way through the cop cars and bustling people. As it neared the perimeter, it reached into it's jacket and pulled out a camera, raising the device to it's face and hitting the record button as it broke into a dead run.
Shouts were suddenly heard as cops realized what was happening and ran after him, but he sped up, dashing through them and through the tape with lightning speed, sprinting up the hill at an inhuman pace as the call to fire was announced, and bullets began ripping through his clothing.
He didn't die.
He just kept going, up the hill and to the house. The camera continued to roll, recording the massive chunks of the house's wall that were just... missing, the huge holes in the roof, the intricate and horrific motifs that decorated the walls, drawn with a burning touch.
Once to the house he barreled into the large door, completely breaking it off it's hinges. The six police who had followed him up the hill all suddenly stopped in their tracks, screaming in pain as all of their lower legs were suddenly twisted brutally, breaking with sickening cracks. They fell to the ground as the figure disappeared inside the house.
Two minutes later, the police found the clothes and the camera lying on the floor upstairs, the tape missing.
The car went into an alley. His target was stopping, he had been seen. The target was probably expecting some sort of fight, alleys were always good to conceal brawls and keep the unwanted out of them. Kris hoped that things didn't escalate but if this super was causing trouble for him on his territory, he would probably have to make sure he wouldn't come back to bother his work.
Thoughts made their way into his mind, flashes of memories from another time. A different city but the same situation. Someone causing trouble for him on his territory. Back then, the situation was more dangerous and he had friends with him. Arthur...Guenevere... Kris forced the thoughts out of his head. It was dangerous to think about those things, especially at a moment like this. He brought his hand up to the cloth and bandages that served as an eye patch. The empty socket throbbed with a dull pain again.
He had stopped on the edge of a building that created one of the walls of the alley. Bellow him he saw the police cruiser, its occupants stepping out into the alley. Two officers, both armed and the third, his target armed with a simple pistol. Probably a standard model glock. nothing he couldn't handle should things get really dicey.
Kris simply walked off the edge of the building, using his power to keep himself from becoming a bloodstain on the alley pavement. His well worn leather coat moved in the short burst of wind he used to slow himself down, he wiped his hands on dark worn jeans and smiled to his target and his "bodyguards". "Nice day for a drive isn't it?" His voice was calm and wouldn't be out of place in a conversation between two good friends. It was all he said though, getting a better look at his target. The man was much taller than he was but that didn't bother Kris too much. he looked like any other person, just an average Joe, but no average Joe could make someone kill themselves by just ordering them to. He would have to be a little cautious with this person.
Nathan studied the man before him, nothing to outstanding about him besides a missing eye and the fact that he could leap tall buildings in a single bound.
Still, there was...something about him. A calmness, like he'd been in similar situations before, which caused Nathan to smile slightly. This meant he wasn't a stupid man.
His index and middle finger twitched then and the two cops stepped a bit closer, there hands on there respective weapons. Nathan however, took his pistol out of his holster and dropped it to the ground and kicked it over to the man.
"I hope you'll pardon me for passing the friendly greetings but why are you following me?"
He asked, not bothering to hide the hint of annoyance in his voice yet still managing to speak in a fairly straightforward manner, his eyes not leaving the man's
I apologize in advance for what could be a wall 'o' text. All i've done so far is do reggie's average day sorta thing. Time to be more adventurous.
Reggie's paper dropped it's self onto the coffee table. The coffee mug zoomed off to the sink. Reggie got up and stretched, as he did so, his mobile went off. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket, flipped it open and spoke.
"Hello?" He said calmly.
"Malian is dead. Wasn't us man but here's our chance..." Came a young voice from the other end of the phone. Reggie cut him short.
"I get what your saying. I'll see to it personally." He hung up and returned the phone to his pocket. Malian is dead
He ran the words over in his head. The system in Urbis was corrupt. Malian and Alito were the only two judges that couldn't be bought. If he took out Alito, well not only would it be helpful to him, Alito's death would be well recieved by the underworld.
Reggie pulled out his cellphone again. He punched in a number quick and put it to his ear.
"Yes?" This time an older voice greeted his ear from the phone.
"Alito, Dead. How much?" Asked Reggie.
"Oh I don't know, thirty thousand say?"
"I'll call you once it's done." Said Reggie hanging up. Thirty Thousand? If your gonna do something, may as well get paid for it
The floor just infront of him disolved away into a small hole. He dropped down to the floor below and landed crouched. He was in another appartment. The light flicked on as he stood up. It looked pretty normal apart from the wall next to him was covered in an assortment of guns. Oh and tThe bathroom was filled with drugs. Reggie liked to keep the gang's dealings out of his appartment. He took two machine pistols off the rack, stuffed them into his trousers and walked out the front door.
He emerged from the building out the side door, he walked through the alley to the back where there was a small car park. A black 1973 Cadillac Eldorado sat there alone. Reggie whistled at it's beauty as he stepped inside. When he was living rough, he never thought he'd ever own his own car. Yet here he was. Business is good, I guess
Reggie started the car up and pulled out of the car park and onto the main road. He drove to the other side of town. The upper district as it were. Away from the slums. The crime. Reggie pulled up about one hundred metres down from a gaint office block. Department of Justice, just as I thought.
Security had been upped on hearing of the murder of Milian. Many officers and agents in their crisp suits stood outside. Going in the front isn't going to be easy but I don't know where his office is, I'm going to have to.
He slotted the pistols in the glovebox and jumped out of the car. He walked up to the building, the guards eyed him suspiciously.
"Stop, don't come any further." Said one of the agents. Reggie froze instantly, he didn't want any trouble."What business do you have in here?"
"You know, just dropping in on an old friend." Smiled Reggie innocently.
The agent didnt look convinced.
"Search him" He said to the officers who looked less then pleased at the agent's smug attitude. After a quick patting down the office said "Clear"
"In you go then." Said the agent.
Reggie stepped into the crowded reception. It was full of reporters waiting for statements on the Malian murder. Reggie check the department's organisation chart in one of the corners of the room. Judge Daniel Alito, 16th floor, office 203
Reggie made his way to the elevator door. It was for authorised personnel. He'd need as password to access it. Or...
The elevator doors opened revealing the elevator shaft. He jumped inside, the door slammed behind him. He then threw himself up te shaft as though he was a rag doll, his powers an arm throwing him. He slowed himself at the 16th floor and slid in through the elevator door there.
He wandered the corridors, they were completely bare. He looked high and low for the office numbered 203. Eventually he found it.
He had better be in
He gave a brisk knock.
A voice came from the other side. It sounded old, withered and scared.
"Come in" It said.
"Will do" Smirk Reggie. BAM the door flew inside and crashed through the big open windows at the other side of the office. Reggie strode in. An old man sat petrified behind a desk to Reggie's right. He cowered at the sight of him.
"W-what do you want?" He asked.
"Your death." Reggie held out a hand, the man lifted off into the air. He hovered there, suspended. A look of sheer terror across his face. Reggie slammed him against his desk, the man howled in pain. Reggie then slammed him off the ceiling. The man was then thrown out the broken window.
Down below, the reporters had gathered outside to see why Daniel Alito's door was lying in the street. The door was then soon followed by the man himself who landed in a splatter of blood. All cameras rolling. Each capturing the old man's death. They then looked up to see the perpetrator but he was gone.
"Ah, not one small talk. I like that."Kris smiled, he hadn't moved an inch since landing, keeping a good distance from the target."Right to the point. A good business man."He watched the two police officers step closer. both well armed but not a problem if things turned sour. "Well, since you want to know. I've been following you cause you stirred some shit on my playground." He frowned and scratched the bandages over his empty socket. His eye became harder now, his tone had gone from friendly to dead serious. "Now i'm gonna have to deal with more of your little bodyguards and to be honest, doing business with a bunch of uniforms around is a pain in my ass. I want to know what the hell was up with that?" Kris knew that the pastor this man had "killed" hadn't always been such a contributing member to society, he used to participate in some questionable extra-curricular activities.
"I know that priest wasn't the cleanest church man, i want to know exactly why you went in there and told the man to kill himself."Kris glared at the man now, his eye not leaving the other mans gaze."And don't fuck with me, cause i don't like it when people try to mess with me."
Nathan couldn't help it as a grin spread across his face at the man's directness. He admired the man's courage, even it was a bit foolhardy.
Or was it?
This man had obviously seen his fair share of action, judging by his missing eye and overall stance, he would fight to the last if it came down to it.
Leaning against the front of the police car, Nathan continued to look directly at the man as he explained
"Having that murderous cheating hypocrite teach the ways of the Lord was wrong. I righted that wrong and revealed his true self to the world. He will not be remember as a kindly Pastor, but as the coward and scum he was. From this, churches all over will impose stricter regulations on who can be admitted into priesthood"
He paused, and thought over his next words carefully
"That is why I did the deed. As for why I was there in the first place...I am simply searching for something to believe in, as are many of the people who go to that church"
He chuckled a bit, rubbing the back of his neck in an almost embarrassed gesture after realizing how much he revealed to a complete stranger.
The signal seemed to stop for just a moment, an almost insignificant amount of time, before shooting off again down what appeared to be a space between two buildings. If this was true, Outcry would find Damien Lier with only a bit more effort than she had first allocated to the task.
She sped up, the near-silent hum of her flight gear increasing a pitch, and the city stretching outwards beneath her.
"Oh Damien... When will you realise that running is useless?" Her vision zoomed to see into the streets, spying Damien just as he ran from the alleyway she had expected him to be in. Now that she had seen him the slaughter could begin. She swooped down to about roof-top level, chasing after the super all the while.
As he cut away into a different street, she saw her chance to catch him. She swooped again, lower this time, colliding heavily with Damien and sending him a distance before he rolled into the back of an SUV.
Her mind processed the information in front of her. What she could see, what she couldn't see, the probabilities and factors involved with her choices now. No civilians... She was free to use as much force as she wished to kill the super, so long as the buildings surrounding him remained fully intact. Damien, standing from the collision, almost entirely unharmed. Good, she thought. She wouldn't want to break 1W's present after all. She smirked. "Come now, Damien. No more running."
Damien pretended to think for a moment. "Hmmm... That's a tempting offer, but, I'm gonna have to say no." He slammed his foot into the ground, creating shockwaves, knocking Outcry off balance. The building walls collapsed inward, throwing up a cloud of dust. A shadow passed in front of Outcry. Suddenly, from the other direction, Damien appeared, murder in his eyes. Using his powers, he hit Outcry with a roundhouse kick, sending her flying. When she was right where Damien wanted her, he slammed her into the ground. They were in a plaza, full of people. Damien faded into the paralyzed crowd, readying himself for Outcry's retaliation.
No reaction to this woman who looks suspiciously like the woman who helped you in the last game? Not even a fleeting moment of "OMG she look familiar"? No mention of her helping you at all? No repercussions that Damien might have at all from having to fight the very same woman who saved him in the first?
...Right. Fine. I can take a hint.
Outcry raised herself from the ground, brushing specks of dust from her hair nonchalantly. "That was a foolish move, Damien. I may have offered you a painless death, but that possibility just ran out for you. A shame." Her eyes went to and fro among the throngs of escaping people, seeking out even the slightest movement of her prey. She could selectively filter out anyone not matching his profile, and the majority of the crowd started to fade away into darkness leaving a few slivers of light left.
A blast of concentrated gravity came from behind her, attempting to knock her away once more, but she anticipated the move. She righted herself in midair, blasted back towards Damien and thrust a knee with much gravity-assisted force into his stomach, knocking the wind straight from his lungs, before she launched into a flurry of hits with imagined objects, constantly stabbing, slicing and ripping at him with any number of objects she could make. A knife one second would be a cork-screw the next.
Damien slammed her into the ground. He held her there, making it unable for her to escape. She looked like she was being crushed to death. It must have been excruciatingly painful. He walked over to her, saying, "Well, I was not expecting that. You stole my powers. But it didn't have nearly the strength I normally can summon. Therefore, I think you're only a second rate copycat. After all, a jack of all trades, master of none. Still, your fighting style reminds me of someone." He made it over to her. When he saw her face clearly, he blanched. "K-Kathy? Is that you? Your first name: Katharine, nickname: Kathy, Alias:Supergirl. What are you doing? It's me, Damien! Don't you remember me?" His eyes widened as they locked onto an insignia located on her armor. "Oh God. The Company. I'm so sorry Kathy. All i've done for the past few years is screw other people over." He shook his head and sighed. "I don't want to fight you. I can't bring myself to do it. I'm sorry for attacking you, but i'm gonna have to keep you restrained until I can get away. The restraints will dissipate when I get far enough away. I'm not ready to die. I have too many things to do, to many wrongs I have to make right." With that, Damien lifted himself in the air and flew away, faster than the eye could follow. A tear rolled down his face as he added another screwup to the enormous pile that was his life.
Hehe, that was good joke Aqua, the one about you not being in Surge 2. Heh. Nice one, you almost had me.
...
Wait...
"O_______O"
I sense a great disturbance in the Shwartz, as if tens of RPers suddenly cried out, and then were silenced. Something terrible has happened.
Sam Kinder, lead reporter for Channel 7 News in Urbis, walked into his office and sat down in his chair with a heavy thud. He was tired, but he was also satisfied. The constant influx of murders, thefts, and super-brawls was giving his team more than enough to cover, and since they were faster, better, and smarter than all the other news channels, they were getting the stories first. Ratings had never been better.
As he sat in his seat and gazed at the ceiling, enjoying his brief, five minute break, he suddenly thought he heard a noise, like a soft, barely audible pop. Glancing down, his eyes locked on a tape, sitting on his desk, that he could have sworn wasn't there when he walked into the room. On top of it lay a single length of straw.
Leaning forward, he brushed the straw away nonchalantly and then examined the tape, turning it over in his hands. No writing, as far as he could tell. Gazing around the room, he saw nothing that indicated how the mysterious tape had arrived. With a shrug, Sam walked over to the TV set on top of his file cabinet, popping the tape in, and then pressed play. What he saw instantly made his eyes go wide, and sent his hand up to his mouth.
"Oh my god... the Sarah Malian murder... no cameras were even allowed there!" He stared dumbstruck as the video displayed the outside and inside of the house, capturing every abnormality and spectacle in hurried yet steady detail. This is proof.
"Cindy, get in here! I want this tape on air NOW!"
********************** An hour later...
"In Urbis, we strive for a better tomorrow."
An eruption of cheers and applause, as the crowd gathered in Livingston Square expressed their approval of Mayor Greg Ellis' words. Umbrellas dotted the sea of people, as the overcast sky dribbled out the remnants of it's recent storm down through the towering bastions of steel and glass.
"We strive to create brighter futures and better lives for our citizens." More applause. "We protect them, ensure their well-being, and make sure that none are discriminated against." More cheers and applause from the crowd, as thousands of cameras flash.
"Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, is more important to us, than the safety, quality of life, and equality of rights, of our citizens." A thunderous sound of cheering echoes through the city streets, hundreds of news cameras capturing the Mayor's riveting speech from every angle. Thousands of eyes glued to their television sets all across the city, watching intently.
"We have always tried our utmost to preserve the rights, recognition, and equal quality of life for all." As the Mayor said this, a tall, blonde-haired man in his mid-thirties walked onto the stage, grinning and waving to the crowd. The man crossed the distance and then stood next to Ellis, hands behind his back. "This, ladies and gentlemen, is Harry Melone." The Mayor said, smiling and placing an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Harry is a super."
There was a brief hush in the crowd, as they all stared at the super with mixed feelings. A few scattered cheers, and then they gradually grew in strength, till a good-sized noise was made. The Mayor smiled and put a hand in the air, bidding them quiet down.
"Harry can... what is it you do again, Harry?" The Mayor asked.
"Oh, I control sound waves." Harry said confidently into the mic, his face beaming. This was a grand moment for him, as it was for all super kind.
"Very good." The Mayor turned back to the crowd, spreading his arms wide. "Today, supers gain recognition. Today, supers will, officially and publicly, gain their own, recognized social group. They will be seen for what they are, out in the open, without anything to hide." The crowd, although obviously having mixed emotions and being more than a little skeptical, applauded anyways. The sound grew as more joined in, and the Mayor back away from the mic, satisfied, as Harry stepped up to make his own statement. Ellis then looked at the numerous guards surrounding the stage, and gave a quick nod.
Instantly, a dozen weapons were trained on the man, and a pair of handcuffs were clamped around his wrists. Harry tried to twist around in surprise, but was pulled backwards and grabbed around the arms, several soldiers pinning his limbs against him. "No! Hey, what the hell!"
"Arrest this man!" The Mayor proclaimed, pointing a finger dramatically at Harry. The super's face suddenly twisted into an expression of rage, and a high-pitched, shrieking wail emanated across the square, cut short abruptly by the butt of a gun. The soldiers then quickly dragged the limp body off the stage.
Mayor Greg Ellis stepped back up to the pedestal, gripping the sides of it as he leaned into the mic, his face now etched in grave determination. The crowd before him was silent, dumbstruck by what had just happened. Even the reporters stopped scrambling and fighting for the perfect view.
"Ladies, and gentlemen. Citizens of Urbis." The Mayor began in a slow, cold tone. "The threat has gone on long enough. These freaks, these inhuman monsters, have plagued our lives from the shadows for too long. They have used their solitude, their separation, and their distrust, as a cloak. As a blanket of darkness, to shield them from the watchful eyes of those who would seek to bring them to justice out in the open, in the eyes of all those they have harmed. No more."
The crowd remained silent, entranced by Ellis' enigmatic words.
"You have all seen it. The murders, the fights, the destruction of public property and the threat to the citizen's lively-hood. That all ends now. The Eradication Act has been passed!" As he said this, Ellis held up a document, for all to see. The crowd began to cheer, first slowly and unsurely but then stronger, their enthusiasm building.
"The Act calls for the arresting of all supers!" The Mayor continued, his voice growing to a shout. As he spoke, hundreds of police cruisers and swat vans began to pull out in every direction, swerving into their formations as they sped down the cleared corridors in the crowds, out into the city to begin The Crusade. "All people with supernatural abilities are now recognized as criminals! They will be hunted, arrested, taken into custody, and made to pay for their crimes! This city will be SAFE!" As he yelled these last words, the crowd's cheering erupted into a roar of enthusiasm, filling the streets and echoing throughout the city.
********************
The roar of the crowds was music to the Monster's ears. They wanted blood now, they all did. They wanted to kill and destroy, they wanted the lives of hundreds of innocent people ruined. The leaders and politician's agreed, casting their votes and their lives into the bucket of blood that fueled the cosmopolitan gathering's primal rage. The final stroke, that tape, had been cast, the final drop added, and now the bucket would overflow and drown them all.
It hadn't been hard, really, especially with the unknowing help of his fellow freaks. The murders, the thefts, the "damage to public property", all strung together and cleverly placed and prodded to bring the hammer down on supers. Of course, he could have simply showed up, killed everyone, and then they would have known, but that was no fun. Death and destruction were better drawn out into long, painful festivities.
The fact that supers themselves had helped in securing their bad-guy image was just icing on the cake. The killing of Judge Alito, just before he himself was about to commit the act, had been unexpected, but the results had gone off swimmingly. Couldn't have asked for better media attention. Which brought him to his next little escapade.
Deep under the pavement beneath the black lamppost, that wasn't really a lamppost, the hulking form of Pain turned away from the small screen that was connected to the camera hidden inside his fake lighting fixture.
"Sick, sadistic little bastards, all of them." he chuckled to himself, in his deep, throaty voice. He bent down and peered at the young african-american woman who lay on the floor of the sewer, bound and gagged, unconscious. Temica Gray was her name, beyond that Pain didn't really care. All he needed was the woman's identity, after all.
Lifting Temica's cell phone up, Pain slowly adjusted the satellite receiver next to him till the signal was good, then morphed his hand into something smaller, more able to press the keys. He made an odd motion with his jaw, and a small, metallic voice emulator appeared at the front of his mouth.
It hadn't been difficult to follow Alito's killer home, nor to secure the man's cell number. A certain Adam Kirzinski had been more than willing, after a little "persuasion", to give over his friend's number. Not that it helped him at all, in the end. Heh.
With a final grin, Pain cleared his throat and dialed Reginald Silva's cellphone number.
The cops, the SWAT, the detectives, pretty much everyone, is now officially and publicly out to get supers, as anyone with super-human abilities is now considered "arrest-able on site". Also, Zepren's character has garnered a new stalker secret admirer >
And just to be clear, my posts will start being shorter and more focused on Pain (in case that was bothering any of you), now that his master scheme has reached fruition.
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