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Post by Jaminx on May 18, 2016 19:35:33 GMT
Deb took a seat by herself. She organised her thoughts after a long day, her eyes half closed as she waited for her food. She made a check-list of what she needed to do next.
- Phone her brother and check he hadn't invented an army of killer robots while her back was turned - Find a way to contact other heroes, or just get some information about what the hell happened at that explosion - Get stronger - Take the rubbish out when she got back - And finally go over her client list for tomorrow before curling into a tiny ball to sleep.
She sighed deeply. It never seemed to end. Her drink and hot dog settled in front of her, which at least gave her some respite for a few minutes. It could all wait till after the food was consumed.
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Vigilante
V&V Veteran
Truly, and utterly, indespensable.
Posts: 95
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Post by Yabvi on May 18, 2016 23:50:08 GMT
Maria noticed a red-headed girl sitting by herself, eating quietly and with a sombre mood to it. How a person eat their food gave a hint to what they were feeling, eating slowly and picking at it meant you were upset, she wasn't picking at it but at least eating it slowly. Maria put on her nicest smile and slide over to the girl, standing beside her Maria asked, gently, "Uhm, excuse me? May I sit with you?" Maria had doubt that this woman would even allow her to come near her, but she had hope.
Truthfully, Maria found her to be stunning. Maria had never seen red hair up until she arrived in America, it was such an unnatural but beautiful colour she couldn't help but be taken by it. Not only that, the woman had such an impressive figure, she probably worked out. She seemed like a superhero, or at least reminded her of a certain other red head.
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Post by Jaminx on May 19, 2016 18:21:02 GMT
Deb was eating her meal quickly, it felt good to fuel up and focus on the food. A voice from above interrupted as she swallowed a little too large a mouthful.
"Sure. no reason to stop you." She replied calmly hoping nothing was stuck in her teeth as she gave a small smile. It was the same woman who had entered about the ice cream truck not long ago. Her light brown hair caught the light from the window framing her dark brown eyes.
Deb didn't really have much to say so she just half watched before taking another smaller bite.
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Post by iCaramelBird on May 24, 2016 14:57:53 GMT
- HUNTER -
The day had been hectic for Luke. The conference, now cancelled. His colleagues and the businessman he so desperately wanted to get drunk, talk and find out whatever information he needed was now gone. Any hopes of that wiped out with the explosion. He only hoped that the death toll in the associates building wasn't too high, and he was thankful that for the heroes that came around whilst he had to get suited up. He really needed to find a way to do that quickly, maybe having the suit come to him could be an option. But still, those were different thoughts for a different time as he adjusted his tie, stepping into his lobby. He had ordered the rest of the take the time off, when he called for a meeting for some of the higher-ups of his company. He watched the elevator open to come face to face with Enra Smith, the head of security at Jones Innovation and a masterful hacker. A tall stoic woman, with pale skin, short brown hair tied back and dressed in formal clothing that she seemed uncomfortable in, always fidgeting or moving. It wasn't surprising to see she had a holster for a pistol that was at her side. She greeted him with a weak smile, Luke simply nodding at her as he stepped in the elevator. The ride to the meeting room, near the top floor, was silent. The two of them stepping out as they made their way over, and sooner or later, there they were, in front of the two large doors which led to the meeting room. They opened, slowly, the floor was tiled like the rest of the building, the walls, a clean white as large windows led a view to the city of Heartania.
“Good afternoon,” The words rang out in simultaneous fashion as the others who had already made their way to the meeting earlier, stood up. Enra made her way over to a seat next to Carl Byron a tall thin man, with greying black hair, and black glasses which highlighted his blue eyes, dressed in a suit of their own and the research manager. Luke passed by Winston, as he was simply called. A more bulky version of Carl it seemed, though much older and unfortunately blind, a man who was the chief financial officer of the company. Luke said nothing, and yet they all sat down as he did at the end of the table, his brows only slightly furrowed as he tried to contain his anger, staring at them all, before he began.
“You all know why I hired you,” started Luke, as he saw the somewhat uncomfortable or expressionless gazes that they all had. “Why I hired this team of people, because you know the plans for this company and how I'm going to expand it. Now, tell me this, if we can't, have a single conference for a smart phone, then how do you expect us to do anything else I have on board?” Luke looked at the three of them, expecting an answer. Winston was brave enough.
“This is only a setback, we can do better-”
“We will do better,” corrected Luke. He sighed in frustration. “Okay, clearly someone out there wanted to get us, or a business that is related to us. I don't care. Heroes and companies are now paying extra attention to us, wondering who did this and right now, any one of us could be suspected since they decided to attack, the moment we had a press conference.”
“There's no real evidence of any of that-” started Enra.
“No, there's none, but the only evidence they need is timing,” interrupted Luke. “Now, look, I don't care much about what they say, but I need to know if we can still make that announcement. I know I've already managed to speak to several of the companies before things went to shit, they're on board and they'll support us. I know, I've already told Brendan to start shifting focus on what we need. But we do need to still go ahead with the Jones Lotus. Is that fair?” The three of them nodded. “Okay, good. Thanks for coming. If you need anything, I'll be in my office.” Luke left immediately, frustrated with the situation, he couldn't take it out on them. He knew the direction he wanted Jones Innovations to head toward, from a simple smartphone, computer and television company to advanced weapons and technology. Luke made his way to his office, glancing at the city outside his window, he knew exactly who this would be made for, heroes. Until then, he had an uneasy feeling that there were bigger things to come.
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Citizen
Slavic Meme Master
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Post by Zircon on May 24, 2016 21:47:50 GMT
- PRITHVI - Ajay stared at the briefcase on the table in front of him. He grabbed it with his left hand, dragging it to his side of the table. He clicked it open, looking inside. It was cash. A lot of it. But this was only half of what he was promised. "This is only half.." He said, not looking up at his contractor. "I-I know, just give me another week, please." He closed the briefcase, staring at the contractor. "I would, if you hadn't already done this on the last contract. Five hours, if you don't have the rest by then- well I think you know what happens." He said, standing up and locking the briefcase. "F-Five hours?! That's not enough time!" The contractor said, panic in his voice. "Make it happen." Ajay said nonchalantly, stepping out of the office.
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Post by Jaminx on May 24, 2016 23:09:24 GMT
Deb ate her meal more slowly self conscious of the woman across from her. She even wiped her mouth carefully with her napkin at the end and inside her mouth carefully prodded any food stuck to her teeth loose before swallowing. It was a weirdly self conscious activity. Once all of this twitching was done she smiled to the woman then slid round on her seat to get out of the booth.
Once this was done she moved outside the cooler air chilling the lingering sweat on her spine. She shivered before taking in the day she had gone through and the night she still had ahead.
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Would you like some Earl Grey with milk and sugar?
Posts: 167
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Post by Newspaper Swatting Queen on May 27, 2016 22:59:42 GMT
The boy in his mid-teens shakingly clutched the handgun in one hand, and the bag of Lorraine’s belongings in the other. There was hardly anything valuable in it, but for someone desperate enough to break into an ice cream van it was better than nothing. He steeled himself, and for one second contemplated leaving the items behind… ..but the street value of a gun was too much to for the young man to ignore.
He slipped it between the waist band of his trousers around his back, and held the bag protectively up in front of himself as he opened the car door.
Lorraine was surprised and highly alert when the door opened, and she made sure not to make any movements or actions that could startle the little thief. But the kid had other plans than staying around.
As soon as his feet stood on solid ground he tossed the bag in Lorraine’s face and made a run for it. He ran with almost superhuman speed away from the scene of the crime, all before Lorraine could out where he was headed. By the time Lorraine started yelling the scoundrel was long gone.
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Post by AlexJ on May 29, 2016 17:30:10 GMT
ESTEBAN VARGAS | SEER Heartania | The Forge 23rd March 2065 | 08:17PM From the top floor of The Forge HQ, Esteban watched as the city began to prepare itself for slumber. Blake, the other Blake, had left to find refuge for the night, and in the morning he would be shown around the metropolis. To say the whole situation didn't shake him would have been a lie. He had been plunged into the spotlight when Paladin had died, and that was bad enough; but now a living reminder of a fallen comrade now walked about in his life. He had one of those already. His thoughts shifted to Natalia, against his own will. As he stared, blankly, the noises of a young girl screaming echoed in his mind. Her voice crying out his name. The desperate sounds of breathlessness. The escalation choked Esteban as he stumbled his way to his hastily made bed. The cacophony of death only became louder and louder, even when he managed to lay down. In an attempt to quell the attack, Esteban outstretched his arm to his bedside table, where a decanter of whiskey sat. His body was so violently shaking however, that he knocked over the container, the brown alcohol spreading across the floor. Defeated, he returned his arm to a closer position, simply succumbing to the sounds of his passed twin until it knocked him out cold; as it did every other night. NICHOLAS NAPIER | FAT MAN ? | ? 23rd March 2065 | 8:20PM The lights were out, though the gentle glow of a nearby nuclear waste barrel gently illuminated the table where Fat Man sat; along with the creased map of Heartania that rested upon it. He kept a cold, almost violent glare upon the map for a few minutes, before standing up to walk over to a burner laptop. On the screen was an article of an article from months back. Each tab that was open hosted a different article, but each had one thing in common. Black Thought.
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That's clamtastic!
Posts: 505
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Post by VirtueNco on May 30, 2016 14:49:35 GMT
<< BLACKLIGHT >> The thief was making off with a firearm tucked into his waistband; not only was he a criminal, but he was also apparently oblivious of proper, safe gun handling methods. Blacklight had only caught the end of the exchange by the icecream van, but that was enough for her to make her decision. Crime was unforgivable, after all, and someone had to teach that simple fact to this rotten scar of a city. The midnight-clad heroine landed around a blind corner ahead of the thief's path, and emerged just as the vagabond approached. A stern look of both derision and responsibility was etched into her masked features. Before the thief could even process that she was blocking her path, a narrow beam of light had cut across the space between her index finger and his knee, singeing the flesh and rendering him immobile. Without a word, Blacklight disarmed the boy and collected the stolen goods, then delivered a sharp blow to his head with her heel before taking low flight to return to his fortunate victim: A woman, waiting still by the icecream van, shouting about the theft as if that would somehow help her more than Grace Scott already had. "Madam, I believe you dropped something" she said apathetically, holding all the items the boy had made off with moments before.
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Post by AlexJ on May 30, 2016 21:11:16 GMT
RHYS JONES | PHANTOM MARTYR Heartania | Downtown 23rd March 2065 | 8:27PM Rain pattered against the orange-hue-lit streets of downtown Heartania, creating puddles that would be disturbed by the heavy footsteps of muddy combat boots. Gatherings of civilians parted like the sea as a scruffy looking man in a black outdoor jacket breathlessly sprinted down the pavement. With every dozen or so steps, he nervously swung his head to look behind him; pushed his endurance further, and continued the cycle. This was until one instance where the runner looked behind him, and then happenstance to the rooftop on the building across the road. He slowed down out of fear of what he could see: a masked figure, clad in red, and clutching a fearsome bow. Instead of darting forward, he took a left into a side-street, presumably with the notion that the archer could neither catch nor fire at him with such a distance. Which would have been true, if the figure wasn't an illusion Rhys had conjured to take the attention away from him as he scaled the opposite rooftops. The poor soul reached a brick wall, to which he hurriedly began scaling. He was so shaken that a decent footing could not be had; giving his pursuer an opportunity. The Phantom Martyr produced an arrow from his quiver, and lining up the shot; he aimed it true to pierce his target's thigh. As his mark howled in pain, he scaled down the wall to face him. He stood at the entrance to the alleyway lining up another shot, ready to fire in case any sudden jump was executed. He removed his previous illusion to focus his magic on altering his voice to a fearsome baritone level, " The explosion tonight, who was responsible!?" The man cowered in fear; only just managing to get up to his feet. "W-what? How the hell would I know!?" He pulled back his grip, releasing an arrow to land mere centimeters away from the liar. " Cut the crap! I know you have connections to the mob, so talk!" "Okay! Okay! Just don't go firing another one of those bad-boys okay!?" he began to edge away from the arrow, but was stopped dead in his tracks by the sound of another notching projectile, "The mob are just as confused as you are, we don't know a thing." " Then point me to someone who might." "Well... There's a guy who had the same idea as you, he tried investigating some of our fronts on the dark web, maybe he's cracked onto something. He's operating from the abandoned aquarium, as far as we know." The rainfall created some measure of sound where silence would have otherwise fallen, was broke between the two. The Martyr lowered his weapon, and placed his arrow back in its quiver. Much to the thug's fear, he approached him, though offered a hand to help him up. He tentatively agreed, and when the two were close-distance, the caped archer spoke much more softly, " Do I look like some kid wonder to you? If your bosses know this guy's been snooping around, and they know where he is; they've probably sent out a team to kill him as we speak," The thug's eyes widened, but could not move as the archer had him by the scruff of his neck, " Thought you'd get me there too? Have me caught in the crossfire; realising until it was too late?" Before he could justify himself, or plea for mercy, the bow went straight to his face. 'The old aquarium, eh? Surely it must be a coincidence... I guess I'll find out soon.' As quickly as the body fell to the floor unconscious, the Martyr had begun climbing the alley wall, en route to however was poking their nose in the mob's business.
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Post by Jaminx on May 30, 2016 22:21:11 GMT
Deb had managed to get home. Her chores were done and she sat wit her still buzzing laptop on the counter beside her. Work was done officially so but working through the details of her missing young troubled youth and the relatives that she needed to track down to find him had given her a silly idea.
If she could use messaging to contact others in her profession about his case files why not pool resources about the explosion with other people, maybe even other heroes. the only question was how to gain attention in the right way. She twiddled her thumbs for a moment before an idea crawled into the forefront of her mind.
Deb picked up the phone and called her brother. His sleepy voice a reassuring grumble as she interrupted some important project again.
"I hate to ask... But do you still have those AI plans from your early work. I've got this experiment I want to try."
There was a pause at the other end.
"Yes.. I can send them now.. You aren't planning anything dangerous are you."
"No I promise this is all about being safe." She crossed her fingers and tried to hide the smile in her voice.
"Okay. I love you little one."
"Love you too. Go get some sleep in a bit before you collapse."
"Hah!"
With that the phone clicked off as her inbox pinged. Unfortunately it would be a sleepless night for her in return.
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Post by AlexJ on Jun 1, 2016 22:14:08 GMT
((I'm gonna do a small time jump for this post. I don't intend for this to be universal, so ignore if you want. )) CLYDE IRWIN | STALWART SENTINEL Heartania | Waterfront 23rd March 2065 | 8:49PM The explosion near the Jones Innovation building racked Clyde with a deluded sense of determination to find those responsible. He justified his dangerous walk down memory lane with the notion that the attack was so close to where he was butting heads with the CEO (he almost wished his building was blown up to see the reaction of the kid-turned-businessman). As he began to search the net, in all its corners, for some answer; the reality of his ego-fueled focus settled in. Unfortunately for him, he was too far into the investigation to stop now. He moved from broadly searching to following the gut that had seen him through decades of experience. Such organisation led him to believe the mob had some hand in the strike. Little did he know his digging left him open to be uncovered. The sounds of typing on a keyboard couldn't trick Clyde's ears into missing the creak of a hatch in the nearby distance. He recognised the source: an emergency entry/exit that connected to a tunnel leading to a nearby docks warehouse. Through instinct, he jumped from his chair, and grabbing an adrenaline shot, he carefully held his cane to ensure a quick re-positioning that would brandish the quarterstaff it was simultaneously. He edged closer to the hatch, noticing it opened, but nobody in sight. Frowning, he cursed himself for being so slow. "You're not fooling anyone. Come out where I can see you." His tone was as sharp as it was weary, he was getting tired of this crap. "You're the one fooling: you are your own victim," a figure emerged from the shadows, clad in red and purple. He spoke with an oddly familiar voice; clearly male. The identity of the individual was concealed with a cowl, and he held a bow at his side, "Thought you could take on the mob on your own? They know you're here... Sentinel." Clyde kept his expression stern, though his brow twitched ever so slightly at mention of his old name. He relaxed the hand that grasped the adrenaline shot in his pocket, though kept his staff ready. "And who's to say you're not one of them, trying to trick me..." he kept his eyes locked on the masked man, slowly lowering his cane to the ground, "Oh who am I kidding? The mob is too serious to hire costumed goons like you." His words seemingly amused the figure. "You were one of them," and just like that, his tone returned to a more serious note, "They'll be here any minute, I need to get you out." "You had half the brain to know who I was, does the other half not understand I can handle myself." A brief pause befell the atmosphere, eventually broken by the archer, "If you're so intent dealing with this head-on, I'm staying and helping." "Well fine. Just don't slow me down, or else you're gonna wish you left me to the mob's goons."
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Post by Adam on Jun 8, 2016 21:24:27 GMT
AGENT ROSE | Tommy Drake Tommy watched, bewildered as the black-clad woman soared from the sky to retrieve the stolen gun. He looked to the woman who owned the van, and then back to the hero; trying to gauge the van owner's reaction. "Wait," Tommy mused, looking upon the saviour. He remembered back to earlier that day; the failed bank heist and something that one of the criminals squeled to him when he went to investigate. 'This psycho bitch swoops in during our job and shoots up Johnny with her light ray'"It's you isn't it? You were the one that stopped the bank heist earlier." his suspicions were correct, "I thought we'd seen the last of Starlass."
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Post by AlexJ on Jun 9, 2016 17:19:29 GMT
RHYS JONES | PHANTOM MARTYR Heartania | Downtown 23rd March 2065 | 8:30PM Clyde was as stubborn as ever, it appeared. The red-clad vigilante recalled the days when the Stalwart Sentinel was a name well respected amongst Heartania's heroes (though the man himself despised the 'tacked-on adjective' that opened the moniker). He continued to be persistent: even as his body began to crumble, Irwin would try his hands at tackling whatever organised mob seized the criminal underworld of the city. But that attitude could have got him killed. The archer had set up a suitable welcome for the attackers: a completely dark space, with only an illusion of the Sentinel in sight. Just in front of the image was a perimeter of gasoline, retrieved from the generator room that powered the makeshift base. As he prepared his bow and arrow, Irwin readied his trademark quarterstaff (though it was widely regarded as a stick). As expected, a group of a half-a-dozen or so individuals entered the base. They were all darkly dressed, with an assortment of DIY combat gear. Two stepped forward, clearly leading the pack. The archer tightened the bow by pulling back his arrow, but elected not to release; waiting for the remaining four to begin their advance. As they did, a smaller arrow sang as it cut through the air, until it began to ignite upon its trajectory. Before anyone other than the vigilante could react, the arrow embraced its target, and the flames engulfed the arc of gasoline. Taking the opportunity, arrow after arrow fired into the shoulders of the separated four, leaving them neutralised. Unfortunately, the two not affected appeared more experienced, and far more dangerous than the rest. One began to fire toward the source of the arrows, forcing him to retreat into the centre of the underground foyer. As he did so, the other thug began to fire more directly. Though able to dodge, the vigilante would've been cornered if the Sentinel didn't jump into the fray, swinging his staff ferociously. This bought him enough time to throw up a basic illusion and escape into the shadows. With the advantage, he rushed forward, grabbing the Sentinel as he fought. The duo examined the illusion for a brief moment, clearly not fooled. But the few seconds were all he needed. Readying two arrows from his quiver, the archer fired them simultaneously. They split into their own separate direction, both landing into the side of their respective target. Pouncing, the archer delivered a punishing blow to the faces of each thug to knock them out, if they were not unconscious already. Once he did, he looked over to the ex-hero at a distance that kept his identity a secret, and asserted, "We need to get moving. This bought us some time, but the mob won't be passive when they learn their men weren't successful."
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Post by Jaminx on Jun 10, 2016 21:52:06 GMT
Deb opened her mind and read. The words pooled inside her filling her up to the brim till she was ready to fiddle with code. It was something she had been able to do since she was created, knowledge something she could absorb quickly like other people ate food.
She set up the code her brother had sent her and began to fiddle, pieces pooling together to create her own artificial intelligence with a first goal of tracking down other heroes. The AI would seep be able to travel the internet looking for searches cross referenced with what heroes would look for and then send them a message asking if they wanted to talk.
Deb yawned wide as she put the finishing touches on her creation labelling the folder it was contained within L.
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