Prototype 2

The rifle jerked in her arms as she puled the trigger, roaring loudly with every shot she took. A rifle firing large custom caliber rounds was not something a normal human could use easily, much less an automatic firing the same rounds. Prototype could not verify whether her shots actually hit their targets however, as something heavy dropped from the sky straight onto her legs.

"Ngh!"

Almost instantly, she leapt up and away, keeping her profile low. By virtue of her own constitution, and the armor taking the brunt of the attack, she merely got away with a rather sore leg. Prototype could see now what just attacked her. A teddy bear, a very large teddy bear, armor and all, stood before her, wielding a greatsword like some sort of childish fantasy knight. Her helm displayed no signs of life or any sort of heat signatures on it. Something that was literally impossible considering that objects doesn't generally move on their own. She moved quickly, spraying bullets at it's general direction, before dropping off the building. As she fell she grabbed onto a windowsill, pulling herself up and into the building, where the narrow corridors and small rooms would hamper the use of the greatsword the bear carried.

"Boss. I've been found. One of them in close quarters."

"They're engaging you in close quarters combat?" There was a moment of silence, before Maxwell spoke again. "Then deviate to Plan C."

"Ok."

By now the town would be awake. Her rifle was unsilenced, the battle going on with the bikers, Ned, and the Champions would be in full swing by now, and there was a murderous teddy bear looking for her. Already there was some murmuring from the rooms near her, with one going so far as to crack open their door to have a better look at her. She fired a warning shot at them, the round simply tearing through their door and the thick concrete behind before stopping. The door slammed shut immediately, and the noise died down around her.

She did not need any distractions right now, not when she had someone trying to stick a greatsword in her.

---

Maxwell Donovan

Intriguing was an understatement when it came to describing the feed coming from Prototype's helmet. She had come into contact, however brief it was, with a walking, fighting teddy bear with no visible sign of a means for locomotion or movement. Was it something they call magic? He had to admit he was woefully inadequate when it came to magic and their ilk. Had always been a science person after all. Maxwell had tried to account for everything when planning the eradication of these... upstart inhuman dogs, but trying to account with these sort of shennanigans? As of now, his only real way of dealing with them, was to throw a lot of firepower at them and hope they die.

Probably should fix that when he had the time.

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!" Red Jack's outburst pulled Mina from her dreamless nap. Half awake, she opened her eyes and found herself on the leather couch she had taken a seat on when she first arrived. She looked up to remember where she was, on the Cochran family jet, and then gave into her grogginess when she saw that everyone else was going about their own business. She listened in on Red Jack's phone conversation, hardly following what he was talking about. He mentioned a broadcast, which Mina could only assume was the sickening portrayal of the Champions that had shown up on the plane's TV. The confusing mixture of fear, anger, and shame she felt in response to the incident resurfaced; it was a milder version that wouldn't put her in a week-long stupor, but one that would keep her from napping again nonetheless. She didn't want to think about explosions anymore. It sounded like Red Jack was going to take care of whatever was going on in Nagoya, or at least try.

It was more news to her that the Champions were also going to Australia to find Tinhead Ned, although she should have guessed the moment Red Jack contacted the group that the remaining Champions would also get their sorry butts involved. Patrick would stay behind to help the Champions, and Mina decided she would too, just to see if the Champions were any more put-together after the incident. She didn't bother telling anyone of her plans, figuring if she were to camouflage, no one would notice or really even care. Mina went to the plane's tiny laundry room and quickly spotted her clean green uniform, putting it on right then and there. No one questioned her change of outfit, probably assuming she wanted to be ready to hunt down the Skull or Tinhead Ned. She sat back down on the couch for the jet's landing, her completely green getup standing out against the black leather. She bounced slightly when the plane touched down, and hung back while the rest of the team left while she activated her camouflage.

Leaving her dufflebag on the plane, she headed out and looked for Patrick, barely seeing him run away from the town in the moonlight. She turned to run after him, but he was nowhere to be seen. She kept going anyways, assuming this direction was where the Champions would be. A few minutes later, she nearly ran right into a man on a motorcycle and swerved to the side. Standing behind a bush, she saw that there were maybe 40 large armed men on motorcycles, surrounding a few uniquely-shaped people. She picked out the fit, curvy figure and blonde hair of Cypress, and realized these were the remaining Champions. Threatening talk was interrupted by unpleasant clunking of metal as a clumsy-looking body of armor appeared. Blue flames propelled him into the sky. She winced at the bangs and shut her eyes against the flashes of light that happened in the brawl, knowing she wouldn't stand much of a chance if she went in to help.

The fight began and Jackson quickly ducked into the middle of their little clump of champions, so close that he was within touching distance of each of them. He needed to be to do his job. He thought of his role on this team as somewhere between an armourer and an alchemist: he gave team members the tools that they needed to do their work, while mixing and combining abilities into something new when something extra and special was needed.

He reached out to Cypress and tagged her hand as she bounced by, and immediately felt power flow into his body. It was an odd sensation, something like a very hot drink flowing down into his stomach and then spreading out through his veins. While that part stayed more or less the same, each different power he had encountered had slightly different feel to it. This one felt kind of slimy. He shivered for a moment and then got on with it.

With a hand on Maeve's shoulder, he transferred the ability on to her, and then to Ulysse. He wasn't sure if they would want to use it in this fight, or be able to do so very well, but he gave them an hour's worth of the ability anyway. He didn't have anything else to give them, and it was better that they have an extra trick up their sleeves and not have to use it then to need it and not have it.

Cypress bounced by again, and this time he had a gift of power for her. While touching both she and Maeve, he copied the succubus's ability across between them. She had made some comment about that earlier, so he let her try it out.

In the midst of flying over an ocean to what he believed was either the Pacific or Indian, a sudden shockwave of air pressure blasted the knight. "the hell?!" He shouted allowed. It had just dawned upon him that he had flew right into a massive typhoon. As strong as he was, it was difficult to navigate and resist the terrible winds through this storm. He was about to notify the other champions, but his connection went down. "Bloody hell these modern trinkets are so unreliable!" He said as he continued to brave the storm. Unable to even find the eye of the storm, he quickly became lost, all senses of direction becoming null, nor could he find a way out of the hurricane either.

After what seemed like hours, he finally escaped the storm, by the position of the sun he knew that he had wasted a lot of time. He could recognize a land mass as India, and that was when he had gotten signal to his communicator. "Oi" He spoke to the champions through the device. "I got sidetracked, fill me in on what I missed someone."

Wilbur frowned within his suit as he didn't dare advance on him. This skeleton had proven he had no reservations about taking life and more sacrifices to him would only hurt them in the long run. Worse still, as he looked around, his stomach knotted out of fear when he saw that he and Red Jack were the only Splinter members of the scene. He knew their sniper was going to take on Ned with the others, but where was their Chameleon when they needed her? She could easily sneak up on this skeleton and give them a chance to free his captive and take him down quickly. With just the two of them, it would be hard to pull off an efficient surprise attack or, really any attack without the officer losing his life. He needed to weight the options... he needed a plan.

First thing first, know your opponent. As the standoff went on, Tortoise quickly accessed the internet and snagged a clip of the skeleton on the beach, captured by someone on their phone at the time. He witnessed his movements, that choking motion he'd made and when his fist had connected with the ground. His sensors had already detected a unique biological makeup and it was apparent he could sow up his wounds very quickly. But now, as he saw this clip, he could also see the skeleton strike the ground and release some incredible cataclysm of power, akin to a large explosion. He'd connected to the ground with his hand... so chances were, that unique biological makeup also granted him some other abilities and he had to make connection with the ground in order to use it. That gave Tortoise a clear initial target for facing him down.

Remove his hands.

He returned his attention to their situation. The skeleton was holding the officer from behind, specifically using his right hand to grip the officer's gun and holding him using that. Plus, he was facing to the left so he could keep his eyes upon as much of the group as possible, this included the officers, Red Jack and himself. So Tortoise was on his right side and he could see his grip quite perfectly. If he could disable the skeletons right hand, the officer would be able to run for cover whilst the skeleton was recovering from the blow... of course, that was easier said than done. If anything Red Jack's pistol was more suited for this, but he was hesitant to act. Thus, it fell to Tortoise.

Now, what to strike with... his larger scale weapons like his flamethrower, arc cannon and bomb launcher were all out, too strong and it would probably kill the officer before it did the skeleton. His standard ballistic weaponry was a bit more likely, but it was akin to a rapid fire machine gun and again, was a little unpredictable in terms of accuracy. So that left him with one option... his high powered laser. At high power, the laser was easily capable of searing flesh and bone, normally something Tortoise didn't use against human opponents due to how deadly it was, usually more for robots or large debris or walls. But for someone like the skeleton, who had shown regeneration was not an issue, there was little risk in using it upon him. If he angled the laser just right, he could slice off the skeleton's entire right arm and hopefully get his captive away from him. He'd only have a split second to make the right shot...

Now he just needed an opening... the skeleton's attention was fairly split between the police, his comrade and himself. Even so, Tortoise felt it necessary to draw his attention so he could pull off his shot. Wilbur had a moment to think back to what this skeleton was ranting about moments prior... some mumbo jumbo about why he didn't have to follow their laws and why he was above all of them. Maybe he could use that to distract him.

"When you live somewhere, you live by the laws of it." Wilbur spoke up, using a microphone to converse with him. "And you're not the only unique being here. Take Red Jack over there for instance." This would be his crucial moment as he hoped the skeleton would pay attention to his partner to verify his statement. "That man is a creature from mythology, born of faeries. Would you have ever thought such beings existed? Surely you'd know about them if you lived before all of this."

Now it was the time to attack. From the left side of his shell, a small silver device popped out with a nozzle pointed right at the skeleton's right arm. Wilbur hit the button in his cockpit and in a split second, the laser fired, striking at the skeleton's arm. He'd turned up the intensity, even if it would drain his shell's batteries a little faster. All he needed was to sever that arm and this situation would become far more manageable.

It was with some surprise that Maeve found herself quickly and terrifyingly on the opposite side of the airstrip. She had intended to run only a few steps out of the way and found herself catapulted across the land in a rush of speed completely unknown to the Succubus.

She gasped as she came to a stop and looked about in complete and utter confusion. How in the world had she gotten so far so fast?!

Rattling her brain Maeve came up with the answer with a grimace. Jackson had touched her in the plane. Maeve was so used to be groped and caressed (though admittedly not by the boy) that she hadn’t thought much of it. But now it made sense. He must have given her the speed of Friction. Which stood to reckon Friction had the attraction of Maeve… Which could be pretty dangerous if you didn’t know how to tone it down.

The thoughts flashed through her mind quickly before the clamor of the present brought her back. Whipping about Maeve saw the group was under fire, confusion gripping the Succubus all the more. Where was it coming from?! Why was someone shooting at them? Carefully she took up a jog to return but the shots stopped as quickly as they had come.

This made no sense!

But it didn’t matter, she needed to return. Tentatively Maeve sped up and sooner than she thought possible she was back with the group and watching as Tinhead Ned took one in the chest. The Succubus laughed in delight and looked about at where the shot might have come from.

Guessing that that Celtic Sniper was out there she waved in a friendly manner vaguely to the distance the shot had come from.

Where was Friction? Maeve needed to warn her about her unbelievably awesome powers of seduction before the blonde hurt someone.

@Iktomi@TheHangedMan@RumikoOhara@Polyphemus@DFTBA

The Prime Minister's words had all the impact of a mace-blow to the face. Odysseus had been expecting them, of course, but that didn't mean that he was looking forward to hearing them aloud. It had also come much faster than he'd feared. He'd expected hours, perhaps days, of political preamble, time that he could have used to identify weaknesses in the ministers and their arguments. Instead they'd gone straight for the jugular, and he was forced onto the back-foot.

Again.

He slumped back into his chair, a prizefighter collapsing back into his corner, and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to forestall the headache that was threatening him with bloody murder. He'd give his one-time kingdom for a maniac in a rocket-propelled suit of armour to hit right about then. He envied his allies for the simplicity of their tasks.

Reclaim the trust of the mortals.

Easier said than done after they'd just expelled him from their homeland. Then again, nothing worth doing was ever easy. And it certainly wasn't done holding your head in your hands and feeling sorry for yourself. He sat back up to attention, ready to go out into the fray once again.

"Let me repeat that the rest of the Champions are currently deployed in Australia, hunting a dangerous known criminal. Trying to save lives, I might add. It's a sad fact, but if they had all come to these talks then it's more than likely that in a weeks time the Australian government would be accusing us of negligence in the face of duty, and probably be summoning us to similar talks to this one. I was sent alone as a representative of both the Champions and the Splinter group," He didn't want to see Red Jack and his crew suffer unduly for their own negligence. They were still his allies, whether they called themselves Champions or not. "You ask me to see things from your perspective. Gladly, but only if you extend us the same courtesy. And remember, you hardly gave us much warning of your intentions. I only found out about this hearing three hours ago." He smiled to soften the underhand blow, but it was feeble attempt, hardly even softening his eyes.

He then sat forwards, fixing the Prime Minister with his gaze, choosing to ignore everyone else in the room. They were hardly as important for what he had to say.

"You're right, I did lead a country once. I was also a man who lived during a time of strife and war, when God's and monsters straddled the land, their power making easy mockery of all humanity's towering achievements. I was a king, considered greatest amongst mortals, and yet even I wouldn't dare too challenge the humblest of Deities. It was a terrifying time to be alive."

He paused, letting his words sink in.

"That was over two thousand years ago, and you know what has changed?

"Precious little."

"Back then we used to call them Gods. Today you call them super-heroes. Not long ago the mighty Zeus gripped my left shoulder, and grim Hades my right, and together they dragged my old bones out of a grave long gone cold and weaved new flesh and new life into my coil, yet even with all that I still can't match any of these spectacular figures who we discuss today, no matter how hard I try, and it's more terrifying than ever to know that they're out there. To know how far mankind has come since my days of muted glory, yet to still be cursed with the duty to bare witness to just how hopelessly outmatched we are."

A cough sounded from the corner of the room, one of the ministers clearing his throat, perhaps in readiness to interrupt. Odysseus put paid to the mans notion with a well honed glare. A trick he had picked up from Ajax all those long years ago. That man could make the tides stop rolling with nothing more than a furrowed brow and a clenched fist, so his student in 'Hard Looks' had little trouble with a middle-aged Chancellor. The rooms silence guaranteed for a few more moments, Odysseus was free to continue.

"It is a man's right to openly fear that which is more powerful than him."

"Not, however, a leaders. You abandon the right to let others see you show base emotions such as 'fear' the moment you accept the chains of command. It is the duty of the leader to protect his people, be that with the sword," At that he nodded in the direction of his own blade, "Or, and this is my personal preference, with diplomacy."

"You have men and women with fantastic abilities who want nothing more than to help you protect your people during these times of trouble, and you want to dismiss them out of hand? I would have given my right eye to ensure Ithaka had such protectors. I still would."

"Yes, the Nagoya incident was a disaster and tragedy both, and yes, the Champions could have handled the situation better, but we weren't the only ones to fail that day. Need I remind you that the Japanese law enforcement was there too, and the failure was as much their's as it was ours, but I'm willing to bet that they haven't been declared illegal. To outlaw us now would make this situation even worse. It would make mockery of all those who lost their lives in that hotel."

"I beg you, man to man, please reconsider. Work with the Champions. Help us better ourselves. Help us make sure that a disaster of this magnitude never befalls anyone again. Surely there is something we can do to begin to regain your trust?"

It stung Odysseus pride to beg so. He still maintained in his heart of hearts that blame for the Nagoya incident fell squarely on the shoulders of the Japanese elements involved, and if anything the entire mission would have been even more of a disaster if the Champions hadn't been there. However the ministers weren't giving him much choice here, and he'd play any card if it meant that the Champions could come away from this situation with some of their good reputation still in place. And besides, no one had ever died from stung pride.

Close to the airstrip, about half a kilometer away, sat a lone woman in a tree, simply watching the conflict unfold in front of her, as the groups clashed between one another, she began to descend from the tree and sprint forward through the grass, dead silent through the brush of it. A bandana was pulled over her smirking mouth as she spoke to herself. "It's showtime."

Once she made it to the airstrip, she decided to take cover and sneak around a bit, eventually reaching a shorter male who was armed with a sniper rifle. She had heard of this sniper, and his track record was very impressive based on his file that she took the liberty of reading while sipping someone else's iced latte. Good god that was a terrible latte. She stood and analyzed the current situation on the battlefield. Honestly it seemed like there was only two groups on the field worth mentioning. Unfortunately, the only person she could reliably go to for help was The Jack, and it seemed very difficult to actually tell which person on the field was allied with which team, so she had to go find the man who recruited her for information.

Like any sane person, she poked the sniper on the back and asked him a question. "Excuse me my good sir, can you tell me where The Jack is?"

@Iktomi

The Womb had tried bargaining with the two heroes who had entered the scene, however it seemed they didn’t particularly want to talk. The giant tortoise like machine seemed to be doing something. Positioning itself in a particular way. The Womb suspected this armoured man had fantastic weapons The Womb had never encountered before. Things great writers dreamed of, that have now become a reality. The man in red seemed to have eased up, awaiting the armoured man to make a move as it were.

Suddenly the armoured man addressed The Womb directly. He claimed the man in red was a faery. A faery eh? I thought they would have been made extinct by now. I haven’t seen one for quite some time… The Womb kept a keen eye on both the tortoise and the red man as the tortoise spoke. In the corner of The Womb’s eye, he noticed a click, a zoom and a metal piece shot out of the side of the tortoise’s armor. Now!

A red beam shot out from the tortoise. The Womb tried his best to move, yet the beam was as fast as light and struck his right hand. It cut through half his wrist, burning through his flesh and cooking it. The Wob dropped the gun and screamed out in agony. He clenched the officer in his left hand and gripped harder, hurting the man. These hero's are far more powerful than I had imagined. If I am not careful, they may eradicate me…

“Stop! If I release this officer, I shall come quietly and face my trial,” announced The Womb, his eyes darting back and to.

Damn. His molecular structure was a bit more durable than Tortoise suspected, he only got through half his wrist... but, he'd still made him drop the gun and turned the tables of their little stand off, so he'd call that a success. Now the skeleton was claiming he'd come quietly... a likely story, Wilbur wasn't too convinced. Some villains had done this in the past, claim to come quietly before launching a counter attack of some sort. It was a classic move... but, if he was going to follow through on it, Tortoise would keep him in his sights whilst he did so.

"Alright." Wilbur spoke up. "Release the officer immediately, raise your hands over your head and let our boys in blue handle the rest. Try anything and my laser's next shot will go through your neck." He addressed him, old routines clicking perfectly into place. If they could take him peacefully and contain him properly, it'd be a great achievement for their Splinter group... but he was still uncertain about this skeleton.

He also shot Jack a smile behind them... he hoped he wouldn't do anything rash to ruin the situation when they could end it so perfectly.

Sensing the friction trails in the air in her area Cypress deduced that there were snipers in the area so she increased her random course alterations to account for acquisition and aiming. Still after all this the skating heroine kept up her focus on Tinhead.

This action caused his suit to act as if every joint was filled with heated sand and robbed airflow through any intakes. It was of course a time consuming way to take on an opponent but her only ranged method.

If Tinhead could be grounded she could engage him using inertia to batter him by bouncing him around as if he were a ball by altering his inertia.

"Wish in one an shift in the other" she giggles as she finds herself caught up in a familiar sensation that reminds her of her friend Maeve as she passes close by two of the pitiful Bikers.

"Interesting, I think I got a rush off those poor boys" she says to herself in a sultry bedroom voice.

Too bad she doesn't have time to play with them yet but Ned is her man at the moment. To prove he was her only man Cypress comes to a neck snapping stop as her left arm lifts Quarter to which she imparts every erg of her former Inertial force while shifting from causing Ned to experience friction to encasing the coin in a frictionless sheath.

The Quarter flies as if in a vacuum striking close to center of mass with the force of 25,000 joules of energy. (150% of a .50 Caliber) as Friction kicks off in a tangent that follows her target.

Wilbur had made Jack proud, the old boy was showing some initiative for once. He had wanted to sit back and see what the Tortoise would do. And he did not disappoint. But Jack did not trust the skeleton in the least. It was out of their hands however. The news chopper was getting every second of the confrontation. Jack thought they handled the situation as delicately as was possible. Even if the skeleton did something, the blow back should be minimal. Still, best to move on carefully. Jack holstered his pistol and sheathed his sword, raising his hands in a calming gesture. He did not try to mentally influence the skeleton, he could not know how the being would react to it. Instead he slowly walked toward the skeleton, hands raised to show he had no weapons.

It wasn't completely true. His wrist mounted blades could snap into place with a gesture, and even without blades, his hands and feet were deadly all on their own. The fae steel should be enough to hurt the skeleton but he couldn't be sure how fast the man would regenerate. Strange to think of the skeleton as a man, but he clearly had intelligence and emotions. Humans may have seen creatures like him differently, but Jack was used to dealing with people that did not look like people. Jack walked slowly forward, gently gesturing to the officer and his captor, "Please let the man go and let me retrieve him. I swear that you will be treated fairly and humanely if you remain peaceful. If you'd like, I can find you an advocate for your case." Perhaps he was a subject of Lord Koschei, the Lich King of the Winter Waste. The king was one of several supernatural leaders who had a public presence. He was currently engaging in a land dispute with the Russian Federation. The Skeleton had several traits similar to a Revenant. Koschei might be willing to provide an advocate if the man turned out to be one of his citizens. Those were all questions for later however.

Jack stopped just out of reach of the skeleton, holding out his hands to receive the officer, "I give you my blood oath as Vassal to the Winter Court. I swear it on my honor and my life. Release the officer and you will not be harmed." An oath thrice sworn was as sacrosanct and unbreakable as any in the Supernatural world, particularly among the Fae. He hoped the skeleton knew this.

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

Interacting with: @GreenGoat

One of Donovan's many monitors chirped quietly, before the screen went blank. Softly, seductively, music began to play, accompanied by a soprano voice. A piece from the Puccini opera La Boheme, “Musetta's Waltz” to be exact.

The blank screen changed to an image. A man hunched over in a leather armchair, wearing a long and flowing gray cloak with the hood raised. It was difficult to tell, but the man underneath seemed to be unnaturally tall and broad.

“You wanted my attention, you have it,” the cloaked man said to the camera, his booming and deep voice a stark contrast to the delicate soprano he spoke over. “We have made a point of being difficult to find. Our computer expert assures me that it would require a truly extraordinary talent to detect her efforts, much less leave a calling card. As you say, it would be in our mutual interest to work together to save the world from those who call themselves Champions- or those who once did.”

Detailed instructions for a meet suddenly began to arrive in text format- one representative to be met by two Phalanx members the following day in the city of Vladivostok, at the Maxim Gorky Theater. Very public, very crowded.

“I warn you, though, the Phalanx will not operate in an atmosphere of distrust,” the cloaked figure said. He raised a hand, pulled a red rose from a vase beside his chair. The music swelled as he lifted the rose to where his face must be underneath the cloak. “I respect your genius. I respect all of my colleagues- individually they possess great virtues. Beauty, passion, courage, and so on. But just because I respect these things does not mean I hesitate to destroy them.”

The rose wilted and died in his hand, drooping as petals turned dark and fell. Like weeks had passed in a second. The soprano sang on underneath his words.

“We look forward to meeting you tomorrow. I am sure it will be mutually beneficial.”

OMAHA, NEBRASKA

Interacting with: @Renny

Reynard handed a soda to God Fist before stalking off into the corner. He continued to stare watchfully.

Unperturbed, Lilith Hobs went on. “I'm so happy that you want to help. Really, I am. One of the ideas I've had is making it clear to the world that there are nonviolent uses for your powers, ways your strength and toughness can aid scientific research rather than just beating up criminals. For instance, I have a team down in Peru at the moment who might need your help.” She pulled herself closer to God Fist, picking up her tablet off the table and showing him pictures.

“In 2007, there was a meteor impact at the little village of Carancas, right at the border with Chile. At first they thought Chile was invading. The strange thing about this meteor was that after impact people in the village began getting sick. Nothing serious, no one died. Official word is that the impact knocked loose arsenic deposits in the soil and it got in the groundwater. And Peruvian officials also claim they've recovered the rock.” She shrugged expansively. “My scientists disagree on both counts. I think that meteor is still in the bottom of that crater, and I think something about it is making people sick.”

“It's simple, really- I'd like you to head down to Peru and meet up with my science team to help them recover that meteor. Your advanced physiology should be proof against whatever effect it has on people, and your great strength should be helpful in digging it out- it's rough terrain there, very difficult to get a backhoe or anything. My guys have been digging with shovels and picks.”

“What you get in return is press about you helping advance science. It's not much, but it's a start, right? Working for the betterment of mankind in a new and peaceful way.”

CHIYODA, TOKYO

Interacting with: @BlackSam3091

The minister who had tried to interrupt stood, his fists clenched and ready to deliver a tirade of his own. The nameplate revealed him to be the Minister for Justice- Odysseus could dimly recall hearing of him as an outspoken conservative and generally anti-superhero.

“What do you care of human affairs, of human suffering?” the Minister of Justice demanded angrily. “What do you even know of it? You superheros think you have the right to ride roughshod over all of us, like we're some kind of peasants! You kill our people and you have the gall to stand before this august body and tell us we're at fault?” The man was turning red, shouting. “We have been generous in merely banning you from the country! I might remind you, Your Highness, that Japan still practices capital punishment for the crime of murder, and you are all guil-”

Suddenly, he stopped. Everything stopped, frozen in place, still as statues. The Minister of Justice was immobile, speaking no words in the middle of his tirade. If Odysseus squinted, he could see flecks of spittle hanging in the air in front of the man's mouth, somehow immune to gravity. Time had completely stopped.

“Kill them.”

Ogata, the balding bureaucrat who had fetched him from Nagoya, suddenly stood beside Odysseus, grinning up at the Greek. The only person in the room able to act. Ogata's English was suddenly flawless, his voice two octaves deeper. And his eyes, rather than brown, were a deep emerald green.

“You don't have to take this abuse, Oddie. You're a king, and they're nothing. Draw your sword and hack them to bits. You can do it. There's only a few armed guards, you've faced much worse odds. Cut them to pieces and declare yourself the new ruler of Japan. It would serve them right.” Ogata looked at Odysseus with his vivid green eyes, a grin on his face.

“C'mon, Oddie,” he wheedled. “Kill them all. You know you want to. You want to have your own country again.” He stood on his tiptoes and gave Odysseus a gentle kiss on the cheek. It burned, prickling his skin.

“-ty of that exact crime!” Suddenly, unexpectedly, time was moving again, Ogata was standing back in his place with brown eyes instead of green. His energy spent, the Justice Minister took his seat once more.

ANDAMOOKA, SOUTH AUSTRALIA

Interacting with: @RumikoOhara@Sterling@dragonmancer@Banana@arca9@GreenGoat@DFTBA@Iktomi

The situation devolved, as it usually did.

Silver Glove threw himself at the nearest bikies. He smashed both of his feet into one's chest, nocking the man over his machine. He ducked a swung shotgun butt, aimed a swift jab right between that man's legs. Grabbed the falling shotgun out of the air, threw it as hard as he could into another's face. Three down in as many seconds. Not a bad start.

Then things got weird.

As he righted himself, he felt a touch on his shoulder. He whirled to confront whoever had come up behind him, and found himself unable to stop spinning. Like he was standing on ice. “Zut alors!” he cursed mildly as he caught another bikie with a spinning backhand, the momentum sending the man staggering. The Jack must have given him a dose of Friction's powers. Wouldn't be the first time. If he used them smart, he could make this work. Then things really started going wrong- the bikies were suddenly filled with the desire to impress Friction with feats of strength and martial prowess- in their thuggish minds, the best way to woo women.

“Hey, let's show the lady who the real men are around here!” one of them yelled. The rest shouted agreement, revved their bikes, and charged directly on Gant d'Argent and The Jack with motors roaring.

Launcelot's voice was in his ear. “We're in Andamooka,” he said calmly as the bikies roared towards him, shouting to be heard over the sound of their motors. “A little help might go a long way.”

Meanwhile, Tinhead Ned took several hits all at once. A nimble flier, he managed to dodge the incoming van- but the exploding bullet to his chestpiece knocked him down, and the flying quarter left a sizable dent in his chestpiece as well. He could feel his joints locking, and the armor was becoming hot and uncomfortable. Ned was no fool- he had kept abreast of the world's superheroes and he knew the scantily-dressed one was easily the most dangerous one here. There was a sniper somewhere, and he was dimly aware of another fight- he thought he had seen a huge teddy bear but dismissed it as a trick of what little light there was.

Ned knew he needed to act quickly before his air filters or joints locked up completely. Using his on-board targeting, he quickly stood and sighted on Friction. “Smile, you bloody Sheila,” he said. He fired his wrist-mounted machine pistols at her- 9mm bullets weren't going to do much, but they were a distraction to what counted.

And what counted were his shoulder-mounted Tesla coils. They let off massive arcs of electricity right at Friction as she advanced on Tinhead. “It's not the volts, it's the amps, darling! Read 'em and weep!” he gloated.

"Hm, that armor was quite sturdy," said Red, as Vorpal flew in circles around him. The giant armored teddy was crouching over the edge of the building he had landed on, watching the fight of the Champions from a distance.

Vorpal talked while flying, mostly to snicker. It was a wonder that he didn't get tired like that, really. "Haha, yeah! I was surprised that snipers leg didn't go 'snap'! Their gettup must be something else, not like that clunky piece of tin you're wearing!"

At that, Red took some offense. His armor was antiquated, he was well aware of that. It was useful for stopping things like knives and swords, but utterly useless in this modern era of bullets and missiles. Truth be told, he didn't actually need to wear it. His natural skin was harder than steel and more tougher than Kevlar; the only reason he deigned to wear the armor was simply because Alice liked it.

She didn't say anything of course - she wasn't keen on showing too much of her emotions, but he knew. It was a part of their connection.

Red sighed, and decided not to take issue with Vorpal. The sword didn't have a brain, it wasn't his fault he was tactless

"You can still see the sniper, Vorpal?"

The sword twirled in place, which was a sort of substitute for a nod.

"Uh-huh. He ain't out of range yet, looks like he's staying put for now, probably afraid we'll be going after 'im. Why aren't we going after 'im anyway?"

"No need. Our objective was to stop him from disrupting the Champion's operation, and we've been successful so far. Fighting indoors will just make things more difficult for us, and in any case, you have an eye on him. He can't do anything without us knowing, so we can stay put."

Vorpal fell silent at that, and accepted his decision. He rarely argued with Red anyhow; when it came to actual combat, he held the most experience, probably even more than Aida herself - though she was leagues better than him when it came to sabotage.

"Looks like things are picking up over there," Red mumbled, staring at the fiasco going between the Champions and their opponents. "How is it on your end, Chesire?"

The Cat replied, his voice sounding strained. "Fine. Got out of the firefight before it got worse. I'm in a safe position, and I've got a clear view of the whole thing."

Red nodded. Good, now all that was left was to wait and see - something he wasn't particularly good at. That was Aida's thing, the damned ninja.

Maxwell Donovan

One of his screen flickered for a moment, before showing a feed of someone, presumably someone really important in Phalanx. He puffed on his cigar, as the man... person, in it started talking. It was enlightening to say the least; he had a bit more of an idea of what these people were. From what the person said, there could even be more of those supers in their organization. At least they weren't out there posturing about, acting like they owned the world. For now.

Still, for them to ask him to come to a theater almost halfway around the world from where he was... . He had made sure his location was hidden, and any who tried to trace that connection to his monitor would get multiple pings from all over the world, so they had decided on that location blind. What if he had lived somewhere in Australia, or maybe Thailand? Of course, he had both the money and the tech to get there in any number of ways, but if he was some basement dweller in Africa? This felt like another test, both of his resolve and his assets. No one who lacked the will or means to get there from another country would be able to arrive on time after all.

Maxwell was loath to leave his lab, his house here in the cold Russian tundras. It had a possibility of being a trap, a plan designed to silence he who knows too much. He would send over Prototype, but she was hardly suited for diplomacy, or any other sort of interaction with others save for combat for that matter. There was the option of cloning someone else, but he could hardly get a clone ready in one day, not to mention all the training he would have to do to even get them to be competent enough to talk. A robot would be out of the question, considering his designs were hardly humanoid.

He would have to go himself.

Maxwell puffed out another cloud of smoke, mulling over his options again. There was no other option. And if they even try something funny, they'd find out the hard way that old dogs like him die hard.

Vladivostok, Russia

It was midday in Russia but the sun didn't show its face. The sky was still and grey and the people were almost as forlorn. Russia was not handling the emergence of the Superhumans well. Armed patrols marched down the streets, always on the lookout for possible metahuman threats. The superhumans represented a threat to the government, many were using their abilities for crime or insurrection. As such the Russian government had cracked down on superhumans, requiring them to register and serve the nation or suffer imprisonment or death. Metas and mythics were hunted down like dogs by federal jackboots or lynched by angry mobs. The superhumans did not take it lying down. The seeds of revolt had been growing for decades long before the superhumans emerged, but their arrival was the spark that light the wildfire.

There was a major firefight almost once a month, there were uprisings all across the country, and nations that had once been cowed by Russia's might were now fighting back with their own metahuman weapons. The bear that threatened to maul the world was being stung by bees, edging slowly but surely to collapse if it didn't change its ways. The Federation's government was fighting among itself, dozens of cabals grasping for control of the sinking ship. If government infighting, civil unrest, rising crime, and international incidents weren't enough, the supernatural rulers of bygone eras were emerging to take back what had once been theirs. Baba Yaga once again preyed on the unwary and naive while Koschei the Deathless raised a kingdom of the dead in Siberia and Zmey Gorynych once again flew across the skies, terrorizing the countryside. It seemed the Russian Federation was fated to go the way of the countless regimes before it and the people knew it, they tried to act normal but they walked with an air of impending doom.

The theatre was one of the only bright spots in the city. Here the people still smiled, or at least the closest Russian approximation. The performers were giving it their all, throwing everything they had into their drama. They were enthralling, masters of their art, the suffering of their society making the stage their release. There was a sparsely seated row near the back, where two figures sat apart from the rest. If Maxwell was smart, he'd figure it out. Once seated he would see a man and a woman, perhaps recognizable to Donovan. One was a supernatural assassin called the Knightmare. Another was a young brunette, she wasn't known publicly but she had an aura of malevolence around her. The Knightmare nodded at Donovan extended a small cloth, "Wrap this around your eyes. We'll take you to see our leader."

Peru

When God Fist arrived to the village he saw a group of civilians dressed for a scientific expedition along with a complement of laborers and guards. The guards were kitted out with the latest in milspec weaponry, along with some stuff that wasn't even on the market yet. South America had not been stabilized by the events of the past few years. In addition to wild animals and drug cartels, now they had supernatural creatures and angry superhumans to worry about. The area was littered with research vehicles, a camp for the company people, and security emplacements to protect them from the dangers of the country. One older gentleman approached God Fist when he arrived and stuck out his hand, smiling fiercely, "Welcome! We were eagerly awaiting your arrival! Now that you're here we can get started on the real work? Are you up for it?"

Andromoka, Australia

Tinhead Ned suddenly found himself encased in a glowing ball of energy and was lifted off of the ground. The rest of the bikers stopped their attack as vines burst from the ground and wrapped around them, holding them tight. The few remaining bruisers were quickly knocked out by a young man in a skintight dark uniform. Tinhead Ned shouted incomprehensibly, banging his hands on the barrier until the man casting it shook it like a snowglobe, bouncing the man around until he was dizzy. The superhero Polaris hovered above the team, smiling at them. He was one of the most famous heroes in America, his powerset, his charisma, his pretty boy looks, and his active career all endeared him greatly to the public. Beside him were Evergreen, a powerful chlorokinetic heroin and Guardian, one of the mysterious Pariah's proteges. They had all worked with the team at various points when they operated in America and Polaris considered Silver Glove a personal friend.

The young man said, "Sorry for ruining the party but we couldn't resist ourselves. We wanted to talk to you guys anyway and we figured this was a good chance to do so." Polaris used his hard light to start stripping off Ned's armor before binding him in glowing restraints as the local police finally showed up. The hero floated down to the ground and reached his hand out to the older man, "Good to see you. It's been too long. Look I'm.... I'm so sorry about what happened in Nagoya. They were our friends too. I wish I could have helped you out." The American gravely nodded at the other members, recognizing them on sight before saying, "There's a meeting being planned. A bunch of us are going to talk about what happened. There's been a lot of blowback from this, and not just for you. Capes all over the world are getting hurt because of this. I'm not blaming you, but some of our colleagues are concerned. Especially now that your team's fractured. Japan has banned the Champions from the nation. We're sending some guys to help pack out your stuff and get your guys out before its too late but the situation is deteriorating, especially with that airport bombing. Pariah's still tracking down leads. We want to get things patched up. We want to figure out what we should all do next. You guys are our example, this affects all of us. We're meeting in Switzerland, near your home base. Hopefully we can get your team back together and figure out how to navigate this mess."

Polaris nodded at Silver Glove in respect, "I'm asking out of my friendship for you. But the others might not be as understanding. We can all leave together right now and sort this out. Please, we need to all talk before things get even more out of hand." A super-cop unit arrived to take Ned into custody, the man was much smaller and much less boisterous out of his suit. Polaris stood and waited for an answer. The area was secure as more cops arrived, many sneaking glances at the conversing superheroes while others went off in search of other shooters and threats in the vicinity.

Meanwhile, as the confrontation between Jack's team and the Womb was drawing out suddenly the hostage vanished from the Womb's grip, reappearing safe next to his colleagues who rushed to his aide. Jack jerked his head in surprise and saw a tall hooded figure with a staff outstretched. Suddenly the wall behind the Womb morphed into liquid tendrils that held him tightly in place. Red Jack suddenly recognized the man and bowed his head in respect. The cloaked man approached and threw back his hood, revealing a face that came right out of a fantasy movie. The white beard, the bright blue eyes, the man looked like a real world Gandalf. By his side were a cadre of armored sorcerers with swords that could only be Magus Enforcers and a few who could have been apprentices.

The man nodded back and gestured to the swordsmen who took the Womb into custody, prodding him along with restraints of magical energy. One of the officers started to complain as the Magus lead the Womb away but an apprentice held up a paper, "We are official representatives of the Fellowship of Sorcery. Australia is a signatory of the Fellowship-United Nations Accord. Under this agreement, we retain the right to take all non-citizen supernatural suspects into our own custody." The cop looked like he was about to say something else but then gave up. The wizard smiled at Jack, "Ah. The last time I saw you, you weren't even blooded yet. How's your father Jack?" Jack smiled, "The same as ever, Archmage Newcastle. You honor us with your presence. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

The Archmage leaned on his staff, taking on a more neutral expression, "The incident in Nagoya has created rumbles all cross the world. The Fellowship has long allied itself with the lawful Metahumans of the world. This association has caused the Elder Council to take an interest in the politics of the situation. They see the incident as troubling and that talks must be held to discuss how the heroic community will move forward. Your name was very prominent in those discussions, especially in light of your schism with the Champions. Jack, I came to ask you to attend the meeting so we may find the best way to move forward. We need the trust of the public again, not just for you but for all the Superhumans of the world."

Jack was not unduly surprised. The Archmage had known him since he was a boy. It would make sense for the Fellowship to send him, "And have the Elder Council consulted the Queen? I do now know how she would feel about her vassal being questioned by mortals." Newcastle smiled wryly, "The Queen insisted. She has as much of a stake as the humans not fearing us as we do." Jack mulled it over. They would see Silver Glove again. He was not sure if he was up for such a meeting but he nodded, "We will be there. Just tell us where and when." The Archmage nodded, "The details will be given to your steward. I look forward to seeing you there." Newcastle stepped through a portal with his escort and the Womb in tow.

The Redcap turned to his team and said, "Well, gang looks like we have a summit to go to. Lets get back to the jet and regroup. We'll head to my family's nearest property. All your items have already been gathered by my servants, our property will be waiting for us at my villa in New Zealand. Looks like we're going to have a chat with our old friends at the Champions." He had hope that they wouldn't immediately start a fight, but not a big one.

"What the devil?!" Wilbur snapped at the sudden disappearance and quickly made use of his shells scanners to try and locate what was going on... but when he saw the cloaked fellow in the beard, he both relaxed and became increasingly on edge... mages.

To this day, Wilbur wasn't entirely sure why he had an almost instinctive dislike of magic. Maybe it was simply because it was something he couldn't quantify. He was a man of machines and science, not a man of myths and fables. All of which turned out to be REAL. That was the kicker... how fortunate they must be, Wilbur thought, born into a life of power and just given the strength and abilities they needed to do the things he could do, and chances were, far more efficiently. Of course, that wasn't to say work didn't go into wielding these powers, Wilbur wasn't THAT nieve. But there was just something he didn't like it... it felt as if they were cheating, almost. He'd had to design and build his shell with his own two hands, collect the materials, test the weapon capabilities, it'd been in development for over 3 years before he finally finished the design and came out to the public.

Heroes needed hard work. And Gandalf over there certainly didn't look the working type...

What was more important were his words, that and taking their skeleton into custody. He'd let them do that at least. Who was it that once said "Magic must defeat magic"?

A meeting... with their old friends the champions. Wilbur reviled at the thought. They'd left to follow their own ideals for a good reason, and now it seemed they were going to be forced back together like two puzzle pieces that didn't connect. What was going to happen that they couldn't already figure out? Their old allies would lecture them on how they were doing the right thing and would be oh so gracious to accept them back into their team to work together again, like it never even happened. It was as forseeable as a cloudy sky creating rain.

However, there was a nugget of truth amidst this quagmire of regret. They did need the trust of the public again, a sign to them that superhumans could be trusted. Wilbur still held the belief that they needed barriers, restraints and rules to follow lest another Nagoya happen. Perhaps a meeting like this could provide a good platform for him to discuss that... maybe the blasted champions would actually see reason. And maybe Wilbur's glasses would turn into gold... speculation and fantasy were twins, after all.

Sadly to deny this would be to deny all they'd worked for so far. It wasn't even a choice. If he didn't go, who else would best speak on behalf of the champions? The members who weren't even there with them?

"Very well." Wilbur spoke up as he powered up his shell's jets and flew up into the skies, soaring back toward the airport. Once he was back on the jet, he would set the co-ordinates of his shell to Red's property and it would arrive just as they did.

Technology was such a boon...

Maxwell Donovan

He glanced towards the play with a look of slight irritation as he had forgotten to bring his lighter.

Maxwell had hidden a gun on him, plus a transmitter he could activate by depressing the small button on the device under his tongue. Once activated Prototype would come bursting in with one of the flyers guns blazing. Not that he was fully certain she would come in to find him still living, but it was a risk he was willing to take. Or rather, he literally did not care about the risks.

It was easy enough to find who he was supposed to meet; those sort of people always stood out no matter how they tried. It was a certain air about them that many average people lacked. An air of confidence and power. Something he had learned to recognize in his young days. Plus, they were strangely attentive towards their surroundings, instead of the play. Making his way towards them after a few minutes, he sat down in an empty seat.

"Wrap this around your eyes. We'll take you to see our leader."

It seemed... that they had enough pull to hire Knightmare, and that other lady, who he was certain was some sort of super as well. Well, just his luck. A piddling pistol won't do him much good if they decide to off him. But then again, no weapon was going to help him fight against supers, not in his old age.

He took the cloth silently, giving it a flick before wrapping it around his eyes. Here's to hoping they won't take him on a hike.

---

Prototype 2

She sat there, staring emptily at nothing in particular.

Prototype sat somewhere near the edge of the city, on a bench near a vending machine. She was to sit here and wait for the signal, either an OK or an SOS from Maxwell. But until then, she had to stay here, watching an empty street with only the occasional people passing by. The battle against those Champions did not go so well, considering there was a large magical fluffy teddy bear that distrupted her. All her tactical advantages had been lost and she was forced to retreat, after killing that one person that had opened their door.

She swung her feet restlessly, sneaking glances at the vending machine.

Maxwell did give her the orders to stay there until he gives the signal, but surely he would not mind if she just... . Glancing around guiltily, she got out of her seat and inspected that vending machine. With a few quick movements, she bought a drink and darted back to her seat. With a slight smile on her face, she popped it open, and took a deep swig.

Instead of the delightful bubbly sweetness she expected, it was something entirely different.

Looking at the lable with disgust, she wondered what sort of doctor sold this drink, and whether she had inadvertently took some sort of drug. With a slight dejected look on her face now, she started sipping slowly at the drink, waiting for something to happen.

Maeve was confused needless to say. In a matter of moments the situation was completely out of control…And then surprisingly back in hand.

The succubus stood hands coming to rest on her ample hips as she listened to the Cape Wearing hero and glanced between Grant and Polaris. Her lips compressed uncertainly. It was tragic for Maeve that things were falling apart so quickly. She had just embraced the light and now no one was happy to see them.

Of course she understood that it wasn’t personal, it wasn’t that the humans and people of Japan disliked HER. But still…

Maeve sighed and drummed her fingertips against her hip bone before glancing at the super cops took every miscreant in hand. Why had they bothered to come then ?

Turning her attention back to Grant and Polaris Maeve smiled sweetly and approached (at a normal speed thank you very much). “Going to see the boys then are we?” She wanted to know, smirking and internally gloating at the way Polaris’ gaze lingered on her just a second too long. Always fun to meet new supes who didn’t know her powers could affect them too. She wasn’t a supe, she was Fae.

“I have no qualm with seeing the others again.” She said nothing about ‘working things out.’