|
Post by Adam on Aug 4, 2016 23:35:15 GMT
KNIGHT | Blake O'Crowley As the dull, 6AM sunlight that leaked through the grating above him slowly pulled him from sleep, Blake O'Crowley - The Knight of another world rustled and groggily shuffled out of bed. It had been two weeks now since the dark matter eruption in his lab sent Blake rippling through space and time, leaving him stranded in a parallel timeline of sorts - a world in which he'd died a hero's death saving the city, where Starlass had been missing ever since and where the man he'd just met and took under his wing on his earth - Esteban Vargas - held the highest position as a hero in the city, if not the world. And then there was Fat Man. On this earth Fat Man was a tyrant that caused the nuclear power plant meltdown that took this earth's Blake's life, an event that scarily mirrored Blake's own experience against the otherworldly, god-like creature; Yowgmoth. In these two weeks so much had developed. Fat Man - who prior had stuck to the shadows following the meltdown - had reemerged, with a fierce militia in tow. First they began with shootings - banks, a school, a courtroom - but then progressed to gang crime and targeting Heartania's criminal underworld; stirring up unrest by attacking Heartania's gangs and crime organisations like Lydia Thompson's Crime Syndicate. By the end of these two weeks Fat Man's militia were feared and hated among the city by people of all alignments and walks of life. They were even a match for Esteban, Blake and the entire Network of Sentries. Blake reached for a bottle of water at his bedside, taking a large chug of it. He grumbled, his eyes sore from the flickering, clinical blue light in the sleeping quarters of the PALADIN barracks he'd been left to. The Network AI had left the barracks free for him - to reside in and to make his own. Quickly Blake had taken to using the place as a new workshop and lab, refining his tech and researching anything that would get him home. Though luckily Esteban and the Network had managed to track down this earth's Cosmo, Damian Harris, the man that developed the Dark Matter technology that sent Blake her. Now the man was on the payroll and hopefully on side, though devastating Dark Matter weaponry had seemed to fall into the hands of some of Fat Man's troops. Blake had yet to actually meet this earth's Cosmo, apparently the CEO of the global corporation Cosmo Industries. Today was the day that he and Esteban were set to meet with the scientist and oversee progress in the Dark Matter tech. Part of Blake was excited - happy to get to see yet another familiar face - though another was scared by the phantom effect of meeting with these strangers had on him. Pulling on a tight, long-sleeved black shirt and some blue jeans, Blake crawled to the Barracks' bathroom where he quickly washed and shaved his face and sorted his blond hair. He glanced at his sunken eyes in the mirror and flashed a quick smile, feigning optimism. Blake looked to his right arm - or lack thereof - the black cybernetic empty husk that clung to him. It was useful and rarely cumbersome though the body horror of it - a common fear of Blake's - scared him. He left the bathroom and glanced down the blue-lit corridor. Esteban would meet with him soon, grabbing and putting on a forest green hoodie all he had to do was get out on the streets and wait for Esteban to send him a location.
|
|
|
Post by AlexJ on Aug 5, 2016 10:39:18 GMT
NICHOLAS NAPIER | FAT MAN ? | ? 24th March 2065 | 6:00PM A new day. Would it be the day of reckoning? The day that made the last two weeks of work possible? Only time would tell. Fat Man's Atomic Militia had come out in force, uncaring of who they targeted. With every successful attack, assassination, and infiltration, the group had amassed infamy, influence... strength. Hiring the Hawker was expensive, but clearly worth it. The dark matter weapons had made such a small time frame a window of opportunity for month's - possibly years' - worth of havoc. It gave them the momentum, and it couldn't stop now. Along with his terrorising militia, he had to bring his plan to its final stage. Kept awake by the sounds of water droplets impacting upon the ground from above, Fat Man spent the entirety of the night before planning for the events of the next. Maps were strewn across various tables, as well as across the floor, and an old computer terminal mapped the usual patrol routes of PALADIN bots. It was with this meticulous attention to detail that he was able to construct a plan so lethally simple; it almost fully assured him of its success. Then he would only be one step closer to the nuclear purge that would cleanse the city of the sin that allowed his family to so quickly pass; taking his own humanity in the process. Soon every man, woman, and child would experience he did in one blinding flash of light. All that would linger is a desert of death, and a dissipating cloud of gas to mark the just decimation. All this depended on one thing and one thing only: The Forge. ESTEBAN VARGAS | SEER Heartania | The Forge 24th March 2065 | 06:05AM He awoke, later than he had planned to, plagued with the same nightmares that had played in his mind night after night throughout the last two weeks. The threat Fat Man and his militia organisation presented and forced Seer to work overtime. Whenever an attack propped up, he was quick to lead a contingent of PALADIN bots to neutralise the threat, and in order to stop future attacks from occurring, he tried his best to preempt strikes, to little avail. This was a workload he took upon himself, refusing to acknowledged the stress of such a responsibility to anyone else. However, that same stress also seemed to only future rupture his broken link with his deceased twin sister. Whilst on the job, his ability to fight was impaired with Natalia's screams in his head, and every time he tried to pass into a calming sleep, he dreamt of her death and descent to hell over and over again. The previous night was no different. He awoke, shaken, and sweating. He quickly washed his face and hair, but neglected to shave the short stubble that was amassing around his face and jaw. He slipped on a white vest, and then suited up appropriately. Being someone so widely recognised as the Seer, he felt it would only aid his planned trip to Cosmo Industries to put himself on display, as it were. With nothing else to do, he engaged his short-flight mode, and sent his apparent partner - the Blake O'Crowley of another world - a message to his provided cell.
|
|
|
Post by Mikeyphenplays on Aug 10, 2016 22:29:24 GMT
-Dealer- The cold breeze awoke Dealer from his sleep on the bench sitting himself up straight he looked around for his glasses, finding them on the side he was sleeping on picking them up they weren't broken "heh bit of good luck i suppose" he said as he put them back on, checking his pockets and coat to make sure everything was still there he let out a sigh of relief as nothing was gone, turning to look behind him to have a better view of his surroundings "right now to find Tony" he said as thought of where he would be
|
|
|
Post by Adam on Aug 11, 2016 21:19:50 GMT
AGENT ROSE | Tommy Drake Tommy writhed in his bed, tossing and turning. Eventually, he gave up and sat up in the humid bedroom of the FATE safehouse hidden inside of the gym. What had happened to the agents of FATE for them to have all disappeared? A series of safehouses and headquarters left desolate without a trace of a single agent or a clue as to where they might be. It was frustrating Tommy to no end, that all of his colleges seemingly no longer existed. Was this some threat forcing them to go underground that he'd missed while in Russia? Or worse, had some villain found them all? If it was a villain, Tommy was scared to ever meet such a being capable of vaporising whole precincts of highly trained agents. Could it be the work of Fat Man's Atomic Militia? The terrorist corps wielded Dark Matter weaponry unlike anything Tommy had ever seen, capable of vaporising the corpses of their victims, only leaving a pile of ash. This was a truly fearsome force, though the light-hearted side of Tommy joked that he'd hate to be the one to clean up all the ash. No. It couldn't be them, Tommy had already checked each location twice over for radiation and traces of such ash.
|
|
|
Post by Adam on Aug 15, 2016 22:38:26 GMT
KNIGHT | Blake O'Crowley Heartania | Highrise District 24th March 2065 | Morning Blake pushed through the wary early morning crowds and finally arrived at the diner Esteban had designated in his text message. Pulling into the caff he remarked upon it's unique decor; it was very 2040s. Taking a seat, Blake pulled down his green hood and pulled up his right sleeve, revealing the green panel display of his cybernetic arm. Poking a few buttons on the display Blake texted a reply.
|
|
|
Post by AlexJ on Aug 16, 2016 14:28:21 GMT
ESTEBAN VARGAS | SEER Heartania | Organic Retro 24th March 2065 | Morning Esteban had arrived earlier than expected, so he took the time to go visit the chef over in the kitchen. Marc was a decent enough guy, who had gotten in with the wrong crowd when he tried to use mafia-loans to publish his poorly written superhero books, and had to witness the real deal when enforcers came to bust up his joint. Luckily, the PALADIN squad was in the area, and managed to save the wannabe's life, which earnt the Seer a gracious discount whenever he came to visit (and a promise that he'd ditch the writing ambitions for good). He would have preferred to just sit and wait for his friend to arrive, but Esteban knew he had to engage in some degree of small-talk to keep up the shining reputation that the network received. Before he would have been stuck in the endless void of pleasantries, Blake had sent an indication of his arrival, and using that as an excuse, he walked out of the kitchen with an expression of pure relief. He quickly spotted his companion, sitting in a green jacket, taking in the scenery. Esteban approached him, taking the seat opposite with a polite smile, as Marc nervously followed suit. He spoke with a clear stutter as he leant in perhaps a bit too close to the two diners, "You must be the Seer's friend! What can I get you?" "He'll have the same as me, thanks." The chef nodded and quickly hobbled away, leaving just the two of them. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long: the chef is always asking for permission to write some story about the time I kinda saved his business. It gets annoying after the first twelve requests."
|
|
|
Post by Jaminx on Aug 21, 2016 16:48:11 GMT
Deb awoke without an alarm her face stuck to the pillow with a small amount of spit that left her mouth tasting clammy.
"Argh." She groaned as she rolled out of bed and made her way half awake to the bathroom. She began to wake up a little more as she grabbed some fruit for breakfast before stumbling her way to her still running computer.
"L!" Deb exclaimed remembering what she had left running. "Nothing yet." She sighed as her inbox came up empty. It wasn't really surprising but she had got her hopes up the night before like a kid before Christmas morning rolls around. She shrugged it off instead bringing up her case notes.
Troubled teen who she was struggling to track down first. But glancing at the clock it was still a little too early to call their family contact for at least another hour so instead she made herself a cup of coffee and settled down with a book she had borrowed from the library the day before.
|
|
|
Post by Mikeyphenplays on Aug 23, 2016 0:02:07 GMT
-The Guy- Harvey was a sleep on the cold hard ground from late night drinking the night before, as he tossed and turned while sleeping he slammed his head on something hard with a mighty 'Clank' "AH! damn it!" he said as he moved his head away, leaning p his head slammed on something else sending him back to the floor "AH! not again" he said as he put his hands on his head, finally opening his eyes he saw the underside of a car with a dent in the shape of his head in the pipes turning his head in confusions "who parked a car on top of me" he said, placing his hand on the car and pushing it up as sat up straight Harvey wiped the dust from his eyes "argh im gonna need a drink" he said
|
|
That's clamtastic!
Posts: 505
|
Post by VirtueNco on Aug 23, 2016 3:43:16 GMT
<< THE MAGISTER >> The portal opened, and the withered being stepped through it into the darkened room. They'd been here before, but it always struck them how its occupant liked to keep an unpleasant atmosphere, as if to ward off outsiders. It worked, for sure. The hero led a solitary life, after all. The Magister walked forward, coming to a stop in one of the corners of the room. No doubt the Martyr was around, but probably concealing his presence. The half-spirit may have saved him from oblivion, but that didn't mean they were on good terms. "Rhys Jones," they spoke, raising their voice only enough to fill the hideout, "We hope you're not hiding from us. What a poor way to welcome a guest."
|
|
|
Post by AlexJ on Aug 23, 2016 12:50:23 GMT
RHYS JONES | PHANTOM MARTYR Heartania | City Outskirts 24th March 2065 | Morning After death, Rhys had found himself without need of sleep, or at least in the extended periods most ordinary individuals would require. As such, he grasped onto the opportunity to return to the isolated home; beyond the reaches of the city: to get a few hours in, and then follow through with some training. It was a task he would appoint himself regularly, and indeed managed to meet his expectations into the early hours of the morning. Dressed in the more comfortable attire of an off-white vest, and faded black cargo pants, he began a series of one-handed push ups; intended to maintain the muscle strength needed to effectively fire the Phantom Bow. Slicks of sweat began to run down Rhys' otherworldly burnt arms, as his breathing became more rapid with every second. Regardless, the vigilante would not have ceased his training regime, if those very same arms didn't begin to glow with a peculiar purple-midnight hue: the intensity of which growing with each half-second. Rhys pulled himself up, and focused in on his hearing to perceive gentle footsteps, after the sounds of an eerily soft cataclysm. Expecting the worst, he picked up his bow, and notched an arrow, as he crept up to the door leading out of the bedroom he was in. As he slowly opened the door, bow ready to fire, he heard a condescending voice call out his name, and as it continued to speak: he spotted the long flowing robe he knew so well. Coming out into the main room, where the intruder stood, Rhys lowered his weapon (though kept his arrow notched), and with a guarded demeanour, he queried, "This is technically your place, Magister. How did you know I'd be here? What do you want?"
|
|
|
Post by Jaminx on Sept 8, 2016 20:05:40 GMT
The time had paced on and though it was still early the anxiety of waiting had finally driven Deb to action. She had tried reading, then staring at her empty inbox but that just made her more on edge. She should be doing something. Every moment she took things slow was another moment wasted. Work or training or action those were the options she should live by right?
She flicked through the file before coming back across the contact again. Lorraine the name said in her own scribbled handwriting.
"Alright i'll give Lorraine a call." She breathed out the words as a long sigh before clicking in the numbers to start her phone ringing.
|
|
|
Post by Adam on Sept 11, 2016 23:52:15 GMT
KNIGHT | Blake O'Crowley Heartania | Organic Retro 24th March 2065 | Morning "It's no problem," Blake responded in a hushed voice. His eyes were hollow and his face expressionless as - after replying - he continued to bore a hole in the table with his eyes, clearly nervous about this meeting with Cosmo's doppelganger. "Run me through it again, would you?" he asked, bobbing back up to look at the man he faced.
|
|
That's clamtastic!
Posts: 505
|
Post by VirtueNco on Sept 16, 2016 4:15:08 GMT
<< THE MAGISTER >> The Martyr's Hideout The man spoke with his guard up; it was disconcerting, to say the least. To show his lack of animosity, the being opened their arms, outspread in a universal sign of piece. "Now now, Rhys. We only wanted to check on our favourite resurrection-ee." They stepped forward, knowing that despite his wariness, the Martyr would not attack them. "How have you been? It feels like weeks since we last spoke. Have you discovered your purpose yet?" << BLACKLIGHT >> Unknown Those eyes were full of pride.
Grace knew them well. They were the most vivid image her memory could dig up. There was pain, there was awe, there was adrenaline, all culminating in that moment. But most clear to her were his eyes.
He stood there, grinning like an idiot, as if to cheer her up. As if that was important. She knew him better than to think he was happy with the situation.
She knew what he was going to do. She knew that he thought he had to. Pain stabbed at her body, her muscles aching, battered and bruised all over. But he was healthy, he was well. Stood tall, stalwart in that damn suit. A knight in shining armour. A paladin.
In a blink of an eye, his face was replaced by dark sky. Grace knew what he had done. The stupid boy had thrown it all away just to prove he could.
There was pride in those eyes, because Blake knew he'd died a hero. And that was all he ever wanted.
Too bad if Grace wanted him to live as one instead.Grace woke in a cold sweat. She'd had that same dream again. Sighing, brushing her hands across her face to get her circulation flowing, she sat up. Her mask sat on the bedside table. It was uncomfortable to sleep in - her rests were the only time she would take it off. Blake, I know there was more to it. Why didn't you say something? Why couldn't you leave me a clue, something to find you by?She stood up, putting on her mask once again. It would be another day of digging up secrets it seemed. Hopefully there would be some criminals for her to burn along the way.
|
|
|
Post by AlexJ on Sept 19, 2016 17:04:17 GMT
ESTEBAN VARGAS | SEER Heartania | Organic Retro 24th March 2065 | Morning Esteban studied Blake's face as he spoke. He looked tired? Worried? He wasn't skilled enough to interpret what his expression meant, and besides, all he was really interested in focusing on were the features he shared with his counterpart of this earth. In the two weeks, the Seer had worked productively with the other Blake, though each meeting still felt a little awkward. I know, Hermana, I should focus on the job.Clearing his throat, Esteban answered Blake's question in his usual attentive style, "Sure. We've got a meeting with one Damian Harris soon. He's the CEO of Cosmo Industries, which is very big on dark matter and dark energy. With luck, he should have some way of sending you back to your world," he stopped as Marc approached with two two plates, each one with a stack of pancakes, drizzled with syrup; topped with crispy bacon. He set them down with a smile, and then swiftly made his exit. "There's also the matter of Fat Man's cronies. They're packing some pretty serious weaponry, and if possible we need to work out whether or not our tech baron is in any way involved. All good?" RHYS JONES | PHANTOM MARTYR Heartania | City Outskirts 24th March 2065 | Morning As the Magister spoke, Rhys carefully set his bow and arrow against the wall, and then stepped closer. He did indeed have a purpose, a family matter to resolve. Some piece of dirt decided to take the moniker his brother adopting in his days of living, and twist it into 'Black Thought'. It was a perversion everything Alf had stood for, and Rhys was determined to right that. "Still searching. How about you? Doing anything new, or still on the road leading to some illusive, mystical outcome?"
|
|
|
Post by Mikeyphenplays on Sept 19, 2016 20:56:02 GMT
-The Guy- Lifting the car up and moving out of the way he started to stand up, once out of the way of the car Harvey dropped the car as it made a large thud on the ground making the alarm go off, holding his head with one arm as the alarm was blaring loudly he said "arg its too early for this", slamming his foot on the ground to try and stop the alarm it set off the other car alarms around him "arg god dam it!" he said covering his ears with his hands, flying up high to get away from the sound he set off in the direction to some buildings
|
|