Diamond Age of Superheroes [IC]

[Vulgarth1]

Timothy Crooner, alias Reverb

A bank, Los Angeles, California.
August 15th, 5:20 PM

The explosion blew the door off its hinges.

Through the cordite-heavy smoke and sulphuric stench that so pungently accompanied a recently-detonated explosive. A foot, garbed in a flared navy-blue boot emerged from the smoke, the rest of the body following. Dust particles clung to Reverb's bolt-patterned leggings and the soundwave icon emblazoned on the chest of his outfit, making it appear a lot less striking and more like it was run through a washing-machine made of lint. The villain frowned and paused to brush as much of the dust off as possible in quite the arrogant display. He had plenty of time, however, with most of the bank's security detail either passed out in a puddle of vomit or clutching bleeding, temporarily-deafened ears in the back of an ambulance. A sizeable crowd had gathered outside, civilians pushed back by the beat cops of the boys in blue, while SWAT geared up outside. The street was filled with the sound of chattering, flashing cameras, yelling journalists, and under it all, the hushed whispers of the SWAT officers as they pored over the building blueprints with their men.

None of it would really help them, Reverb had already "cased the joint" and wiped his computer clean of those very same blueprints. A simple disguise and a Photoshopped ID badge made it so easy to gather information these days. Reverb took a moment to glance at the reinforced-steel digital watch that he wore, finding himself right on time. It had gone off without a hitch, after all...

A bank, Los Angeles, California.
August 15th, 5:05 PM

The afternoon sun was still high in the sky, considering how late it was in the summer. The balmy day began to give itself over to one of those sweltering, humid nights that made people change the sheets and turn on as many electric fans as possible. People still streamed in and out of the high, gold-plated double doors of the bank, clattering up and down the steps in large quantities. Although not as large a crowd as earlier in the day, the size was just right for one particular figure who stood upon the building opposite. It was like something out of the ridiculous cartoons, the villain perched upon a conveniently-low-roofed building, peering malevolently over at his target. The setting sun glinted off of Reverb's mouth-mask as he tensed his legs, hopped forwards, and shot his grapplehook at the ugly, grinning gargoyle that hung above the doors. Sweeping downward, over the heads of the drone-like citizens, he revelled in the screams and startled cries that penetrated the tight confines of his cowl. Seeing the great bay window loom before him, the man stretching his legs, white bolts seeming to gleam in the light before - with an almighty crash - his booted feet shattered the great pane and let him swoop into the bank, tumbling gracefully to disperse the shock of his landing. Returning to his feet with practised speed, Reverb reached for the white-dyed leather holster at his waist, snatching a starting pistol up and pointing it at the roof before pulling the trigger.

The incredible bang reveberated in the curved, dome-like roof of the bank, but the sound didn't fade to be overwhelmed by the screams. No, it was the screams that were drowned out, the sound of the gunshot resonating louder, and louder, the glass seperating the tellers from the patrons shattering in precisely-controlled ways, fragments simply dripping to the floor like glittering diamonds instead of deadly shards, scything into flesh. As the echoing shot grew louder and louder, even those in the far rooms of the bank, behind closed doors, cried out as their balance left them and they found themselves falling down, weak-legged. Finally, as the first few folks began to hurl, Reverb let his arm fall, and holstered the smoking gun.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. If you would please remain still, the soundwaves won't resonate for long." Came the electronically-altered voice. One who knew the villain personally might recognise his good mood, as he had set the voice-changer to make him sound like El Angelos, to those who could still hear through the abominable ringing. Once more, Reverb silently thanked the Eligo-X serum and its insane creator, before striding over to the manager, rolling him onto his side to prevent him from choking on his own bile and taking the keycard from his breast pocket. "My thanks." Came El Angelos' polite tone, filled with authority and heroism. Fishing in a pocket on his utility belt, Reverb withdrew a plain packet of supermarket tissues and tossed them onto the manager's waistcoated paunch, before turning on his heel like a drill sergeant and marching smartly off to the vaults.

A bank, Los Angeles, California.
August 15th, 5:21 PM

Indeed, it had been everything Reverb had planned it to be. He knew that - even with his Amplitude Gun - if he had not been injected with the Eligio-X serum, he wouldn't currently be stuffing wads of banknotes into drawstring bags, taking from as few lockboxes and trays as possible, avoiding those that didn't contain handsome amounts, to satisfy some vague sense of honour and fairness. The earbud he had placed in his right ear earlier penetrated the relative silence, causing him to pause and listen intently. Apparently SWAT had finished planning and were preparing to move in through the front doors, whilst also securing the side and rear employee exits. Reverb smiled again, though it soon became terse as the radio channel filled with orders to stand down. Ignition had arrived. The villain groaned, zipping up the trio of bags and hoisting them onto his back, tugging firmly at his grappling hook to make sure it was properly secured to his arm after his flashy entrance.

"-mme that radio. 'Ay, Reverb! You tryin' to slink away?! Get your butt out here so I can-" Here the boy broke off, his arrogant snigger clear even in the background. "Check your temperature!"

Reverb groaned again, sparing a brief moment to rub at his temples before heading for the sewer hatch he knew was hidden under a thick carpet and a rug in the rear of the vaults, by the janitor's office. Funny that they'd go and build it in a place like that, but Reverb was never one to complain about providence, whether divine of just thanks to some fool on the planning team. He checked the bags were secure about his shoulders and then began the short walk, determinedly ignoring the continued taunts of the teenaged twit in the overlarge duster coat.

Then came the sounds of roaring flames, and Reverb spun around, his Amplitude Gun in hand, the other lifted defensively, hand and wrist forming a vague "S". The source of the sound was the foolish boy, Ignition, his legs encased in plates of metal that looked curiously like pantyhose, thanks to their off-black colouring. Orange flames guttered at the soles of the metallic black boots, presumably home-made like the rest of Ignition's equipment. Apparently, what the boy had in prodigious intelligence took up all the room for a useful brain and sensible design. Reverb kept his gun at the ready, however, calmly watching the proud peacock flare his orange pleather duster - with his hands - and wipe at his nose with his thumb. The kid was watching too many Japanese cartoons, it was starting to show in his mannerisms.

"Hey, you old fart, stop tryin' to slink away when I'm talkin' to ya! It's time to feel the burn!" Came the selfsure crow. Flamethrowers mounted on the undersides of his wrists hissed like angry snakes, and Reverb knew exactly what the sound meant. He hurled himself to one side, cartwheeling one-handed and waiting for the roar of flames. He didn't have to wait long, the heat licking at his legs as they snapped away just in time. Ignition growled as best as a teen could and aimed a second blast. he never had the chance to fire, though, as the sound of the roiling flames didn't leave his ears. It was like the sound had been trapped there, building up, and up, and up. Stumbling, the boy bumped into one of the stainless-steel tables and gripped hold of it, trying to regain his balance. He looked sharply up at Reverb, only to see that curiously-shaped weapon, short and gunmetal black, through a haze that he had previously only associated with rising heat. The sound became louder and louder, and he felt his stomach heave and squirm violently, clamping a gloved hand to his mouth and trying to suppress the urge to vomit. Right before his eardrums exploded, he blacked out with a quiet hurk and slumped to the floor.

Reverb sighed, holstering his Amplitude Gun in the opposite holster to his starting pistol, and knelt next to the boy, rolling him onto his side and putting him in the recovery position. As an afterthough, he delt him a swift kick in the back and hurriedly stepped back as a stream of bile rushed between the kid's lips. The villain shook his head and turned, passing the scorched walls around the door to the janitor's office and pushing the slightly crispy door open, thankful for his thick gloves.

By the time the SWAT team reached the vault, they found the would-be hero laying in a puddle of puke and a open manhole that had been curiously absent from their blueprints. Closer examination would reveal that the blueprints had been replaced with clever copies, almost identical to the real ones that had since been switched back.

Meanwhile, Timothy Crooner relaxed at home with a nice hot cup of coffee, a bottle of Chardonnay and the most premier T-Bone steak dinner from Gognitti's Gourmet that thousands of dollars could buy.

[Lydyn]

Colorado
August 13th, 2012
6:43 P.M.

The monk had been traveling the roads for a couple hours now, practically ignoring the cars zooming past him as he looked in front of him. He had spent the last two hours focusing on the world around him and watching the ripples that flowed through it. It was his way of remaining connected to himself and the world. It was beautiful and even in the eleven years that he had been able to see it all, it never got old, for there was always something unique and different. Everything was connected and even the smallest movement made ripples in the web of fate that hugged the earth and Leo was able to sense it.

It was a shame, for all of the super powers that ran across the world, all the good and bad that it did that hardly anyone understood that they had the power within them all along. Too many people were so busy with trying to make appointments, get revenge, protect others, and staying to stay alive that just being still was beyond their understanding. He didn't judge them for it, he just saw the potential if more had come to realize this simple truth.

He shook his head ever so slightly to shake himself from his thoughts and paused to close his eyes, feeling the night air whisk gently by him. He focused on the earth's pulse, the whispers on the wind, and the sense of the world around him. Opening his eyes slowly, he looked east and nodded. Pulling himself back like a cat ready to pounce on it's prey, his legs propelled him forward into the forest as he made way towards the east coast.

[Xartarin]

Highway 70

Vanessa had already been on the road for a while. Three days unplugged from the rest of the world so far. No cell phone, no internet, no news radio. Now THIS was the vacation she was aiming for. Spending the end of summer driving around, seeing a few friends, stopping a few crooks now and then, away from the heavy gang activity and troubling business developments.

Highway 70 wasn't too far from Michigan, but she wasn't exactly in a rush. Two or three days into the trip (Vanessa wasn't really keeping track of time) she simply decided to visit the East Coast. The West was a bit far, and she was ready to trade some lakes for a trip to the ocean. She hung to the right, aiming to get off at the next stop for some gas and grub. The window was open on her dark green pick-up truck, letting the highway air whip through the two-seat compartment (technically four seats, but the back two were too tiny to count in her book). The radio was blasting something country, but the wind was too loud to hear it. Having the music on was more of a matter of principle.

The front two seats were clean, but a modest amount of wrappers and receipts were kept between the two small seats just behind the front ones, both facing each other. All of her luggage was in the trunk, in a metal case held down tight and locked up. Not enough room in the car proper.

Some man walking on the side of the street whizzed past the passenger window. He looked like a monk of some kind, the kind of bald martial artists you see in movies, not that Vanessa could tell from her brief glance. The off-ramp was still a ways off, so Vanessa pulled over ahead of the Spirit and stopped the car harshly on the gravel. Hopefully picking up a strange-looking probably-superpowered costumed guy would make the road trip a bit more interesting.

She leaned out the window, looking back at the guy. He looked pretty outlandish with his complex robes, bare feet and tattoos. Then again, who didn't look outlandish nowadays? Vanessa could hardly complain about his appearance considering her regular night gear, even if she was merely wearing a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt at the moment. "Hey stranger, need a lift!?" She shouted out the driver window, a hand between her mouth and the traffic. The traffic wasn't that heavy, but it was still troublesome yelling over the noise.

[Lydyn]

Highway 70
August 15th, 2012
11:12 A.M.

As Vanessa caught sight of the monk and watched how he walked, he seemed so serene as if the traffic whizzing by didn't even bother him in the least. He had been walking with his hands behind his back it seemed, strolling down the side of the highway like he was taking a walk in the park. He looked up and caught the woman's gaze and smiled softly, able to hear her well enough. He didn't say anything though as he took his time getting to the truck. He had been tired of running, but knew his spirit would soon reinvigorate his muscles and tired bones for it was an amazing battery of raw energy. The company though, was what enticed him and he had no worries in that mind of his, even on the off-chance that she was some sort of super villain.

Making it to the truck, he silently opened the passenger door and glanced around the vehicle for but a moment, before effortlessly hoping inside and shutting the door in a calm manner. Apparently he even took his time taking favors from strangers. With that, he looked over and bowed his head respectfully. "Thank you for the ride.. it's very kind of you," he replied, being completely polite about the situation and too humble to brag about not even needing it - after all, it would've been rude to refuse such a generous offer. With that settled with, he kept a soft smile on his face and leaned back in the seat, causally buckling his seat belt before resting his hands in his lap and folding them. He wasn't about to risk the woman getting pulled over because he didn't have a seat belt on.

[Xartarin]

Highway 70

The monk took his sweet time walking over to the truck, but Vanessa figured his feet were sore and he was tired. This street was the only piece of civilization that could be seen, so who knows how long this man was walking on the highway, barefoot on the gravel. Vanessa tapped the side of her car with a finger as the monk made his way there. She decided not to comment on the man's noticeable lack of luggage or the slowness of his actions. It's not like there was any rush, and she wasn't really too interested in figuring out what this guy's problem was. He was probably just tired.

Once the man had fastened his seat-belt, Vanessa said, "No problem," and looked out of her window to the traffic. She needed enough room to get back up to speed and the traffic was moderate, so it took a minute or two before she saw a proper opening. Kicking up dust and rocks behind it, the pick-up truck dove back into the highway and matched the speeds of the other drivers on the road. While driving, Vanessa was keeping an eye out for signs, looking for where the next stop was. She didn't have a GPS and it had been a while since she last checked her road map. Hopefully there'd be an off-ramp soon. There was a fine amount of gas in the tank, but it'd been a few too many hours since Vanessa last ate.

"I gotta get off at the next stop for some refueling, and I'll be stopping for lunch while we're there," Vanessa said as she rolled up the window. The passenger didn't seem to mind the noise, but it was starting to wear on her. The monk probably lived in a busy city or something if he was so used to the sound of traffic. Maybe an apartment near the freeway or something. Once they were at a respectable pace, Vanessa figured it'd be good to break the silence. With her eyes still locked on the road, she asked, "Where're you headed, anyway? You walking to the next town over or something?"

[Lydyn]

Highway 70
August 15th, 2012
11:16 A.M.

Leo watched her gaze and followed it back as she checked to see if any other cars were coming this way, curiously so. He had never actually driven a car, for he had little need in doing such things, but he had ridden in them a few times. Still, he seemed interested in how the machine worked and how she pressed her foot on the gas and shifted gears. It was really quite amazing. Though the idea of fuel escaped him at times, so the thought of running out didn't even occur to him. As she caught up to speed, he sat back again and relaxed again the material of the seat and watched the road. It was a bit strange for him, being able to see the road moving by a little faster than he ran, but without moving himself at all. He did admit to himself that it was a bit more boring though, since he could not see into the middle of the forest, feeling the earth beneath his feet, or watch deer prance out of his way. It was a bit more relaxing though.

"East," he replied at first, leaving the single word hang in the air before glancing at the woman. He realized as he watched her that she was much like most people - always in a hurry, even when the situation didn't call for it. This made him smile warmly before adding, "I'm heading east, no one where in particular." Just for good measure, having noticed she rolled her window up, the man reached over and rolled his own up, though the loud music was still blaring loudly even without the wind's whistle to help it. Predictably so, the monk didn't seem to mind it at all and his voice carried over it in spite of the fact he didn't seem to be yelling, which was slightly unsettling. "What about you? Where do your travels take you, miss ...?" he looked over, expecting some sort of name to refer her by.

[Squrmy]

August 16th, 9PM, NYC Street, somewhere in Manhattan*



Katou walked down the street leading to the club with the air of one who knows what he's doing. His hood was pulled up, throwing most of his face into shadow. But his features were still clear enough that he was a youth - a fact that was noticed by the two bouncers standing on either side of the club's doors. "Oi, buddy. This is an adult's establishment, y'know?" Said one, a burly, well muscled black man - his companion snickering softly to himself. "So why don't 'cha do us all a favour and go home, before we call the cops, eh?"*

Katou allowed a small smile to grace his lips, before speaking to the bouncer - in a soft, reasonable tone. "I've had a long, tiring day, friend. I just want to relax and enjoy myself. So why don't you just let me in and we can forget about this whole thing?" The bouncer sniggered, eyeing the teenager in front of him. While he was a tall man, well over six foot, with arms built like tree trunks and a neck like an ox, this kid looked like a scrawny little fucker! He wasn't gonna take that from some street urchin, no he wasn't. "Just beat it, kid. I've got better things to do than beat the shit out of you when you try to get in."*

Katou smiled again - but this time, the gesture didn't quite meet his eyes. He considered just blinking inside the club and going about his business - but that wouldn't do, not in the slightest. He wanted to teach these two thugs a lesson. Katou looked up and down the deserted street, satisfied when he saw no one other than himself and the two bouncers. The dark skinned one who had done all the talking was still grinning, waiting for a response. So, of course, he was rather surprised when he blinked and found himself staring into the cold eyes of the teen who had been ten feet a way from him a second before. "H-hey!" He said. "Back off, squirt! Personal sp-" The last word died in his mouth, turning into a scream, as Katou proceeded to grab both his arms, twisting them back on themselves, two sickening snaps echoing out into the night. Before the other bouncer had a chance to run, to yell for help, Katou was upon him - knife flashing in the dim light cast by a nearby streetlight as he stabbed the man, over and over; until his blood and guts covered the pavement. "Next time.. just let me in." He hissed, before turning back to the black bouncer and ending his life with a swift jab to the back of the neck, wiping his knife on the man's shirt before shoving it back into its sheath. Katou pulled up his hood once more, tugging his mask up to cover all of his face but his eyes - rolling his shoulders with an exasperated sigh, he entered the club.

August 16th, 9:07PM, NYC Strip Club*

Ghost entered the club, eyes glinting dangerously - he had been planning on getting drunk, but that wasn't an option now - the bar was brightly lit, and his clothes were stained with blood - going near to it would just not be an option. Besides, he didn't want to pull down his mask - or people would see his face.*

So, he stuck to the main part of the club, a large rectangular area of carpet, broken up by raised circular podiums on which various scantily-clad and naked women danced, to the beat of some suggestive song. Ghost ignored the sound, however, making his way over to a deserted table, taking a seat, leaning back into the chair with a soft sigh. He watched the dancer in front of him, giving her a little wave - he was safe, she wouldn't be looking at his clothes - she'd be looking at his face. He smiled, pulling a wallet from his jean pocket, throwing a wad of cash down on her stage - roughly $600 worth. Money was no object to Ghost - he had plenty of it, and he didn't really need it, as he usually just stole whatever he needed. The girl raised an eyebrow at the amount of dough on her stage, a silent question. Ghost shrugged, eyes twinkling. "I like you. You're classy." Which was a lie, as she was dancing to a rather suggestive, demeaning song, and was wearing nothing at all - but she smiled, giggling at the compliment all the same.*

Ghost opened his mouth to say something more, but it was at that moment that the two bouncers outside were discovered - someone bellowed at the top of their lungs about murder, and there was a slight delay before the lights in the club were turned on, and the music stopped - the bright white light throwing the blood on Ghost's clothing into sharp relief. The dancer who he had so generously tipped began to scream, pointing at him - and there was a response from the other bouncers and guards in the club, the establishment's customers scattering as they realised what was about to happen.*

There were various clicks as the bouncers and guards loaded their guns, turning off the safety on all of their weapons. Ghost sighed, not making a move to surrender or defend himself - but his assailants had been friends with those he had murdered, and they were criminals themselves. "Kill the bastard!" One of them roared, and there was a second's delay before the guns were fired, a mixture of semi-automatics, handguns, assault rifles and pump shotguns. Time seemed to slow for Ghost, as he saw the bullets flying through the air towards him, merely flicking his wrist - manipulating reality and opening a number of small rifts in front of his body, in the bullets' path. The projectiles flew through the rifts, before Ghost closed them again - the volley of gunfire doing no damage to him whatsoever. "I told your friends.. and I'll tell you as well. I've had a long day, and I just want to relax." Ghost sighed. "But it's too late for that - you've pissed me off." The men, still in shock after seeing how Ghost had handled their attack, were caught completely unawares as he teleported from his sitting position at the table, re-appearing behind the loose semi-circle they had formed around him. His two desert eagles were held in his hands, and he fired these now - every bullet finding its mark in the back of a man's head.*

In almost no time at all, there were eight corpses on the ground, blood and gore oozing away from their heads. Ghost re-loaded his guns slowly, looking around at the empty club - all of the dancers and customers had fled during the violence.*

"I need a fucking drink." He murmured to himself, walking over to the bar - he knew the cops were coming, but he'd deal with them when the time came.*

[Lydyn]

Highway 70
August 15th, 2012
11:17 A.M.

"Vanessa. I'm heading over to the coast too, probably gonna stop in New Jersey or something before heading to New York." Admittedly there were probably more practical places to stop then New Jersey, Vanessa just wasn't too much of a geography expert. She figured she'd probably run into some place with a hotel somewhere on the east coast. "Maybe visit DC or something, I dunno. Just let me know when you want to get dropped off." Leo nodded lightly to her comment, but choose not to say too much, looking out the window as he watched the landscape pass them both by.

Highway 70, Gas Station
August 15th, 2012
11:26 A.M.

For the next few minutes Vanessa didn't say much, and finally an off-ramp presented itself in the next town. They passed by the first few gas stations until she found one that sold diesel. That meant Vanessa had to stand by the truck and fill it manually, stopping when it foamed up too much. She reached into her back pocket and fumbled around with a wallet, managing to take out a sawbuck. "Mind running over and getting me a chicken sandwich while I fill this thing? And something for yourself too, if you're hungry."

Still in the truck, the monk looked over and took the money, looking at it for a few moments. He wasn't used to money, despite having been gifted some from various heroics in his lifetime because people didn't know how else to repay the man for saving their lives. He smiled to her none-the-less and nodded once more. "Of course." He opened the truck door and hopped out causally before making his way to the little store by the gas pumps. People were already looking at him oddly, some taking pictures of the usually dressed man. There was a particular car next to Vanessa however that was filling their car as well, the back seat window rolled down to let their child gaze into the open world. Suddenly the kid (of about 10 years old, male) started to jump excitingly and pointed to Leo. "Whoa! It's that Spirit Hero! He can disappear! How cool!!" This cause the mother to look over and examine the monk just as he entered the small store.

Leo stepped in and started to calmly go isle by isle as he examined each and every product in curiosity. It wasn't often that he actually went into stores and bought food of any kind and the sight of the chicken sandwich suddenly caught his eye, being warmed by some sort of heat lamp in a display case. He opened it up and grabbed the decently sized meal and decided to grab himself one as well before going to the drinks. Not having a clue what the woman wanted, he simply got a couple of bottled waters and made his way to the cashier. Placing all four items on the counter, he offered the ten dollar bill with a warm smile to the blonde behind the counter. She smiled back politely and scanned the items. "That'll be eight fifty six ..." He took the change back and let the woman bag the items before heading back out - cash in one hand and a plastic bag in the other.

Vanessa glanced at the car as the kid shouted. Figures he's some kind of superhero, she thought, and then looked back at the nozzle just as the diesel was about to foam over. And an actually famous one to boot. Last time I had someone recognize me by costume I got punched in the face and hit with a tire iron. She briefly wondered how much an autograph would make on the internet before quickly discarding the idea. This superhero road trip didn't need to be any more awkward than it already was.

The Spirit came back with the plastic bag. Still refueling the car, Vanessa looked over briefly and said, "Just put the stuff in the car, I'm almost finished here." She switched hands, one arm tired from holding up the gas nozzle. He complied, throwing the bag inside the truck before opening the door and setting the money neatly in the middle of the truck. Instead of climbing inside, he decided to shut the door and make his way around the truck and glanced to her and then her arm for a few moments.

"I can hold that for you, if you wish," he offered in a kind tone. He had noticed she switched arms and only guessed that it might've been a little heavy to lift for someone without the energy to do so.

"Nah, I got it, I'm almost done here," Vanessa said, only looking over briefly before returning her attention to the tank.

"Hm.. as you wish," he replied, nodding lightly as he walk back around the vehicle and hopped in. Quietly he buckled his seat belt and looked over the distant landscape, sighing silently in his mind. Even in his state, at peace with himself and the world, he still experienced emotions - like loneliness. His less than talkative trip thus far made him wonder if the woman was uncomfortable with him being around somehow, or maybe she just didn't have much to say. At the slight realization, he looked over her way, raising a slight eyebrow for but a moment. "So ... Vanessa? Where do you call home?"

The fuel tank was full, Vanessa shut it and hung the nozzle back up. She got back into the truck, and started fumbling for her keys until the Spirit spoke. "Oh, uh, I'm from Michigan. Like, Detroit. I don't go to school there, though, I was just over there for vacation." She hit the key in the ignition and looked over at the stuff the Spirit bought. "Oh, awesome, you got some water," she said, reaching over and grabbing one of the bottles. Not wanting to hold up the station too long, but feeling pretty parched, Vanessa took a single gulp from the bottle after quickly unscrewing the cap and set it down before hitting the gas and getting out of there.

Highway 70
August 15th, 2012
11:43 A.M.

The truck started to make it's way over to the highway's on-ramp. "I'll pull over in a bit for me to eat. I don't mind anyone eating in the car, so go ahead," she said as they got back onto Highway 70. "What about you, where're you from?"

He nodded, watching her take the water and smiling to himself, glad he had decided to get that instead of some other strange flavored drink. He was never one to taste sodas or anything, but did enjoy juice once in a while. As she suggested eating in the truck, he reached over and started to unwrap the sandwich before looking back up at her question. "Oh.. I'm from a temple in the Rocky Mountains, originally anyways. I don't really have a home right now though - I just travel and hunt for what I need," he explained before pulling the rest of the wrapper off. She quietly bit into it and tasted the chicken. Chewing and swallowing the first bite, he nodded to himself. "Not bad, though fresh chicken tastes much better. I am glad that getting the water seemed to be the right call, though," he had added before taking another bite of the sandwich.

Rocky Mountains? Like, over by Nevada and such? Vanessa scratched her cheek a little before looking back at the road. The traffic started to get denser as they arrived in Columbus. It wasn't thick enough to slow them down enough yet, especially since more lanes were opening up now, but that could change in a half-hour. "Didn't know they had temples in the Rockies," Vanessa said, now paying more attention to the side mirrors on the truck. One of them was a little cracked, but still useable. "So... that kid back at the gas station said you can disappear. Can you turn invisible or something?"

The monk had looked over to the woman, with a half-eaten sandwich and reaching over to the bottle as he smiled. He was already finding the conversation more interesting now, that they were actually talking instead of just being polite. Unscrewing the top of the bottle and takes a few gulps of the liquid, he answered, "the temples are very hidden - and small. As for my disappearance ... well, it is not turning invisible. It's called Shunpo, though the ability is extremely rare to see in practice. In fact, I don't remember the last time I saw it used outside of the temple." He had a thoughtful expression on his face for a few moments, before simply disregarding it all together and biting into his sandwich again.

"Well of course it's rare to see it used if it makes you disappear!" Vanessa chuckled. She turned the radio off as the old stations on the open road gave way to other stations in the city, and Vanessa didn't really feel like dividing her attention to find something good. It was a bit after noon, and they were getting lots of people returning from lunch on the highway. Probably best to just keep it off. "So I take it you learned some form of martial arts in that temple? What kind?"

Highway 70
August 15th, 2012
12:11 P.M.

He had just finished the sandwich as she asked the question, prompting him to look out the window for a few moments. It didn't matter how fast they were going to how think the walls were between him and the outside, he could always hear the whispers of the wind. He sense everything around him all the time and that's what gave him peace. That's what stripped him of fear. He crumpled up the wrapped and set it neatly aside as to not make a huge mess and looked at her with a serious expression. "What I learned from the masters there and what I know now are very different ... but, at first, yes. I learned how to fight with my body when I was younger and to have a sharp, focused mind. It was Master Yang though, that taught me to be more than human." He didn't expect her to know right away what that had meant, but if she was really meant to know - she would inquire further.

Vanessa was expecting more of a name for the style, like kung-fu or karate, but didn't really feel like pressing further. In the corner of her eye she could see he was at least not too responsive to the joke. She resisted the urge to make a joke along the lines of 'Is there also a Master Ying?' He seemed to take his skills a bit seriously. It was pretty obvious that his training and abilities were his whole life and identity. After all, he didn't have a home, family, possessions or any outfits other than the monk clothes, at least as far as Vanessa could see. "More than human" was a pretty strong way of putting it, but he probably knew what he was talking about.

Thinking a bit, Vanessa wondered if she could really feel that strongly about her own studies. Obviously she wasn't "more than human", but she couldn't think of a situation where she could think of chemistry in the same light as this monk regarded his own techniques. Still, synthesizing compounds may not have been as flashy as disappearing moves, but Vanessa still thought quantum mechanics were way cooler in their own way. "Sounds.... cool," Vanessa said, and moved over a lane to get around a slow-moving car. It was a bit unusual to see something move slower than the scrap metal they were currently riding in. "I know a bit of fighting myself, just self-defense stuff. All totally human." Her eyes darted a few ways, thinking of something to change the subject to. "You travel around a lot?" Ugh, he already said he doesn't have a home and travels around, moron. "I mean, like, where've you been?" Better.

He frowned softly at her reaction to his explanation, sighing slightly as he looked out the window for a time. Even if he saw the world differently, it didn't exactly mean that communication was the easiest - in fact it might've been harder now, since most people didn't understand. He was sorry to have made her uncomfortable though, he was only trying to tell the truth. ".. all over the United States .." he replied, still looking out the window. There was a noticeable tag of silence after the answer, before glancing over to the woman. "I... I apologize if I made you uncomfortable. I hadn't meant it in the way you took it, I promise," he eventually added in a very kind voice. Apparently, even as calm as the man was, he still seemed to feel emotions.

(Collaboration by Lydyn and Xartarin)

[Adjectives]

Shadowrunner, NY 9:15PM

Shadowrunner walked along the sidewalk, her black heels clicking against the tiles when she heard the familiar sound of screaming and yelling coming from a couple of streets away. She casted a glance up to the summer sky, where the sun was fast dropping towards the horizon. Not long now and she would have her full power, but it was safe to transform now.

She decided to take off into a sprint along the road, approaching a wave of young men and women running for cover behind buildings and in alleyways. How much can a seventeen year old scare these people? Shadowrunner thought, a jitter of excitement running through her body. As she crossed the road, a young boy ran in her path. "Don't go that way! There's some psycho-villain kid in there. He's fucking massacred the bouncers and everything!" He said breathlessly, not paying much attention to the clothes that she was wearing. She thought it was obvious that she wasn't a civilian.
"That's why I'm going that way." Shadowrunner replied impatiently, her form melting into shadows and splitting around the boy, much to his shock. The shadows darted across the ground as if they were fleeing the dim orange sunlight, moving towards the entrance of the club.

She materialised at the doors, looking down at the bodies before her. One black man, one white, both tall and burly men. Killed right in the middle of the street and their corpses left to fester. She was impressed. She stepped into the building, greeted by bright lights down onto the dance floor but to her obvious distaste. Before she turned her attention to the boy, she hurled her combat knife at the thick cable running up towards the powerful lights, causing them to fizzle out and leaving only a few lights around the room to cast a pale illumination.
As soon as they did, she vanished into the darkness once again, moving freely around the room like a ghost until she appeared behind the counter in front of the boy.

She reached down into the cabinets and pulled out a glass and a bottle of gin before she began making herself a cocktail. "Oh, hi sweetie. I'm Shadowrunner, it's nice to meet you. I'm a big fan." She smiled casually, pouring the vermouth into the tiny glass and plopping in the skewered olive. She placed the glass on the counter before vanishing into the darkness, materialising on the bar stool next to the boy and taking a sip of her martini. "Well, maybe not a big fan. I mean, don't get me wrong. For a seventeen year old, doing what you do is pretty impressive. But it's kind of boring isn't it? Which supervillain hasn't killed a bunch of security guards at somepoint?" She shrugged, taking another sip of her martini.

"But from what I know, you have a lot of potential. Reality manipulation. That's a rare one, and you already have it under wraps." She said, sounding impressed. "You could go down in the history books one day, except not doing this. So I have an offer for you. One of the world's most powerful trading companies needs a man assassinated; a man more protected than even the President of the United States. Oh, and he's immortal. And he can't die." Shadowrunner said, turning to read the boy's facial expression.

"There would be payment of course. Twenty million dollars, if you wanted it. But it's more for the fun and spirit of villainy than anything."

[Talarion]

Captain Walker
August 16th, 12:01 AM
Walker's Apartment Balcony, Manhattan, New York City

Walker's mood was grim as he landed on his Balcony, pulling off his jacket. He paused as he reached the sliding door. Something was wrong. Katherine always left this door open. A frown began to form on his face as a metallic smell made it's way into his nose, one he was greatly familiar with. Blood. "No..." he muttered, horrified as he nearly flung the door aside. Blood was everywhere. A ridiculous amount. Too much for a single person, at least. At first, he didn't notice, as he frantically looked around for his girlfriend. After a few seconds, walking into the room and looking more, he realised that she wasn't there, and noticed the amount of blood. He stayed silent, looking around the room through the slight golden tint of his mask. "You know, Captain, you're not that hard to follow. Your friend is very attractive." The voice was mocking, easily identifiable as the villain calling himself 'Shatter' from earlier. "I decided to come back and kill you know. I'm a bit crazy like that!" Shatter laughed, a boyish laughter of near-joy. "What did you do with Katherine?" Walker yelled, stepping forward, before a knife appeared in Shatter's hand. "I took her. Cut her up a bit beforehand though." He stepped slowly towards the side, strafing in a circle. Walker's ear twitched, and he winced involuntarily, almost as if someone was yelling at him. Shatter smirked slightly. "So, Captain, you gunna let me hit you with my best shot? Just to see if you can so nonchalantly shrug it off, as you did the rest?" At this point he stopped, flinging the knife at Walker. Walker slapped it out of the air with the back of his hand, his reinforced gloves barely getting cut. Slowly, he began to advance. Shatter merely backed off at the same rate. The bad thing about a small apartment, he had no room to properly control his movement. Sometimes he could barely keep up with himself, and in his own apartment he'd just be pinballing off the walls attempting to hit something aside from his own possessions. Shatter played it like a game, too. Something was off. No new Villain was ever this bold. Even the insane ones take some measures... So, why? He lunged forward, catching a dagger to the shoulder for his troubles. The same pain as earlier in that street racked through him, as his entire body shuddered as his skeletal system fractured and reset itself. He rolled to the side, just in time to avoid another knife, which shattered a chair. He kicked off, tackling Shatter, straight into a wall. He still smirked, even though he was now held with no way of escape. "Tell me where she is, Shatter. Do it, or I'll shatter you!" He growled out, putting the slightest amount of pressure on the body he held. The teen in his arms merely grinned even wider, despite the fact that Walker could already feel his bones begin to crack. "Oh, you're so very brutish, aren't you Walker? You're merely a bruiser. You're a watchdog. You aren't meant to learn, or develop, you're just the new 'Police'. Soon there will be more, better Supersoldiers. Made to counter the Supers, using technology and advanced superhuman bodies, just like you, except better. You're already worthless, Walker. There's a new hero, did you know? Called 'The Spirit'. He can do everything you can, and more. He can dissapear, he can walk through magic like nothing. Then there's people like Miste-" He was interupted by a loud CRACK sound, as Walker tightened his grip, and finally Shatter let out some recognition of pain. "I don't care about your lecture, I'm a soldier. I will serve untill I can no longer. Now, where IS SHE?!" He kept his voice as calm as he could, which wasn't very calm. Shatter merely chuckled, directly in his face. "I won't teeellll yoouuu" He said in a sing-song voice. Fed up, Walker did the one thing he felt like doing. Headbutted Shatter as hard as he could. The body he was holding shattered into nothingness, like glass... and he felt his mask, completely shattered on the wall, slide off his face. Then he finally heard it. Katherine's voice. "You stupid BASTARD, he's an illusionist!" She sounded in distress, but unhurt. Quickly he spun around, to see a nearly fine room. The door, and the wall, both things he did, were as he thought. But everything that Shatter's knives had hit were completely fine. But the major thing is that Shatter himself was standing, next to a tied up Katherine. With a quite shocked look on his face. "What? It broke! I can't get it back... why won't it work, dammit?!" He started to back away, fear apparent in his face. "No, stay back! I'll kill her!" He brandished a knife, readying to strike, but it was obvious he actually wasn't a knife-wielder. By the time his strike started to descend, Walker was already diving in front of it. It barely cut into his chest, as he performed a light backhand, sending the boy flying into the wall behind him. He screamed, as Walker heard his spine crack, or maybe his ribs. "So. What does your name actually mean?" He stood above the kid, who was gasping, sobbing, crying on the floor. He got no answer. He picked Shatter up, causing a scream of pain from him, and pulled him over to the phone. He quickly dialed his superiors. "Yeah, General? Sorry to disturb, but could you arrange for a pickup squad to come to my apartment? A criminal followed me home like a lost dog."

Jason Walker
August 16th, 12:31 AM
Walker's Apartment, Manhattan, New York City

He checked the cleanup report from earlier. Various bodies were found, crushed by strength or cars, and the body that matched the description of the Strong Man, but apparently, the people who stayed around were part or all illusion, as no corpses of little boys were found. From what Jason was aware of, Kat was trying to go to sleep, possibly already was. He was sitting in his kitchen, at the dining table, in a shirt and pants. He wasn't particularly tired, he only needed a couple hours sleep anyways each night. He snapped his phone shut, looking at his mask, his real mask, which he found hidden, oddly enough, under his bed. Apparently, Shatter had replaced it with a fake one to catalyse his illusions. What he didn't take into account, is that his real mask wouldn't break so easily, and once the illusion is rooted, it's based on belief. At least, this is what Jason personally thought about it. It made sense, so he'd think that untill told otherwise by someone he trusted on the topic. He walked over to the cupboard which held his alcohol, and got himself a drink. Slowly he sipped on his drink as he thought about what had happened. He had won this bout by luck. Was what that kid said true? Was he defunct, not worthy of being a soldier anymore? He paused his drinking for a moment, before gulping the entire glass down. Now that he thought about it, he probably didn't need to sleep at all. The way the doctors had it explained it to him, or what he got out of it, was that because his regeneration acted as it did, he'd need to be constantly performing on a Superhuman tier to actually get tired and need rest. Even then, he could probably keep going on. He was a soldier. He made up his mind. He went into his bedroom, staying quite lest he wake up Katherine. He pulled out a simple white, button-down shirt, his favourite pair of denim jeans, his belt, and lastly, the only odd piece in his attire, his black duster. He changed out of his current clothes, and into these. He looked down, grinning slightly. The duster was pretty iconic, but he'd seen numerous versions around in the past couple of years. Advertised as the "Walker Duster", on all of those Superhero channels. He could simply claim he was a fan of.. himself. Captain Walker, that is. He chuckled softly to himself as he pulled his sneakers on, and then shoved his mask into his duster. It was inconspicuous enough, as the magic on it activated, making it cling to the inside of the duster, and the duster was thick enough not to outwardly show it. With that, he left the building the normal way, through the front door, and began walking.

Jason Walker
August 16th, 1:21 AM
Government Facility, Brooklyn, New York City

Jason pushed open the doors, after unlocking the building. He didn't expect anyone to be here, except one, who he knew would be here. He closed the door, carefully, and began walking with purpose. He knew exactly where he was going as he strode the darkened halls. He took a right, opening a door, and began descending the stairs. Two floors. He continued on his way, before finding the only light in the building, shining out from around a door. He slipped the door open, to be met with a gun pointed in his face. "Woah, Doc... I came to have a chat. It's me, Walker." He looked past the gun to the man in a white lab coat, who was staring at him suspiciously. "Phrase." His voice was deep, deeper than Jason's atleast. He had simple, rectangular-framed glasses, and a dark stubble around his chin and jaw. He was a small man, but he had a great mind. "Those who walk the night must also walk the day. 2047, Saintlike color." As he repeated that phrase, the gun dropped. "You forgot to nod at the end, but I'll let that off. You never do anyways." He turned around and placed the gun on the table next to him, and went back to his workstation. A well-kept laboratory, with various chemicals, and also technology sitting on the shelves. "I need to get stronger, Doc. With so many heroes around these da-" The Doctor raised a hand, cutting him off. "You're fine, Walker. How many 'heroes' have you heard of surviving a sniper bullet to the gut, point blank?"

Walker thought for a minute. "None, but I sure have heard of heaps taking sniper shots. To the head, too, even hails of them. Something I can't do." He said, eyebrow raised as if to prove his point. The Doctor looked back. "Fine, I concede. Just because I can't be bothered getting distracted to prove that my work is superior. What do you want?" His question, while to the point, confounded Jason. "Well, that's the thing, I don't know. I know I need to grow to keep up with the new heroes coming out of the woodworks. Hell, apparently there's this guy who's immune to magic, and can dissapear, yet still do the things I do." He paused, before adding; "Plus, what good hero doesn't improve? I've been the same since I became this way four years ago." Jason shrugged, as the Doctor leaned against one of the benches which were clear, before sighing. "Nobody knows enough about 'The Spirit' to confirm anything more than being able to move through a magic barrier and dissapear. For all we know, it could've been staged, so don't worry about that." He pushed off the bench, walking over to one of the shelves, pulling down a flask of some chemical, and throwing it over to Jason, who caught it. "This is...?" His voice and expression both hopeful. The Doctor tilted his head in a gesture of boredom. "It is the elixer of youth, immortality, and complete and total power." He waited a moment, watching Jason's eyes widen considerably as he glanced between the Doctor and the flask. "You're shitting me!?" He spluttered out, holding the flask near-reverently. "Yes, Walker, I'm shitting you. I'm a scientist, not a god-mage from heaven. That is my latest serum. I could inject a gallon of the stuff into you, and it wouldn't do anything. Trust me, I've tried. The death rate is nearly zero, but I can't get it to work like my original. It just puts the subject at permanent peak human condition. You're already far past that, I can't help you. I'm sorry, Walker." He held out his hand, as Walker passed the flask back, a bit annoyed and a bit dissapointed. "Well, I guess it'd be too easy to just have something that powerful like that lying around." He said with a sigh. "There's nothing you can do? At all?" He pleaded, as the Doctor shook his head. "Sorry, Walker, but you're already my greatest masterpiece." With that, Walker said his goodbyes, considerably annoyed, more at himself for being inadequate than anything else. He put his mask on, just for the sheer sake of it. He had alot of time to think as he began his walk back to his apartment, and he may as well do it practising.