“Come on! Left, right, left, right, left, left, RIGHT.” Finnlay was commanding as he raised his punching mitts in that sequence. After the last punch was thrown Finnlay patted the kids head with his right hand which was still in the mit “See there you go. Now we're getting somewhere with ya.” he smiled at the boy. He always loved helping the younger kids since they needed something like this to help get through life. And hopefully in his life he could stop at least one kid from turning out like him. “Grab water and do your road work and you good for the day.” The boy smiled and started out the door as he heard Finnlay yell across the gym “And remember no cheating the running.” The boy just waved him off causing Finnlay to smile and shake his head. “Good kid.”

Walking back to his office Finn waved at some of the other boxers with a friendly smile and throwing out bits of advice to those he could and the ones that needed it. Making it back to his office he sat down and let a long sigh of exhaustion. Looking through some of the papers on his desk which to most would be a chaos of random papers he found what he was looking for. It was his folder of possible fights and tournaments for some of the boxers at his gym. Most of this was for the younger ones since the older ones had their own managers but some still had him do it. “Hmm.” he thought pondering over the list. “There is one in New York that looks promising.”

Looking at the clock he realized he had been thinking this over for quite sometime and everyone had already called it a night leaving just him in the gym. Finn looked through his glass window and seemed to zone out as he stared directly at one of the heavy bags hanging. He could see his younger self punching away at the bag repeatedly with a anger and furocity that shouldn't be seen in a kid. Shaking his head free of the visions he decided he could always use a bit of practice he began to wrap his hands with tape. He stepped up to the bag and began to swing away at the bag. It wasn't anything to serious though. It was mostly just something he liked doing even though he had no real purpose.

“The only thing that we know for certain is that we owe these heroes, these Avengers, a debt we might never be able to pay." Finn’s head shot around at the tv he had been ignoring this whole time. What he saw shocked him to his core. New York had been turned into a war zone it looked like. Aliens raining down from the sky in massive waves as massive fly Carrier and a group of so called super heros fending off the invasion. Turing back at the bag Finn’s eyes narrowed and became serious and his body stood ever so slightly taller as he began hit the bag with more purpose this time. Every hit seemed like it had a reason for being thrown. Each one slammed into the bag with more power than before as he continually picked up speed. Stepping back for a second Finn went into a defensive stance as he brought his hands to guard his face as he pretended to dodge blows until he began hitting it once again. Left, right, left, right, left, left he kept in pace in with the same rhythm he had set for the kid earlier just slightly sped up. As he brought back his arm for the final right he changed into smoke and appeared on the other side of the bag just before landing the punch with a loud impact nearly knocking it off the chain. “Still got it.” He thought to himself. Turning off the TV he grabbed his bag and headed off to his apartment not far from the gym still thinking about what he saw on the news.

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May 5th, 2012, 09:45
“JOCELYN YOU’RE LATE!!!”

“Schedule says 10:00 Mick; it is just now 09:45. If we were that bloody busy; one you would have called me in and two you would not be out here waiting for me and staring at my ass as I get off my bike.” I say in my crisp British accent as I swing my leg over the Ninja and pull off my helmet and shake out my hair. It’s a platinum blonde in the purist sense of the color. Cornsilk, platinum, moonlight; I’ve heard it all. I also heard Mick when he asked me out within the hour I was promoted to bartender from waitress. I flat out told Mick no. Not because he was a jerk, which he is. Not because he isn’t good looking, because he is. But because he’s a Norm.

See I’m not what I seem. I’m a mutant. Mutants don’t date Norms, don’t fall in love with Norms, and really don’t...well you know, with Norms. But that is neither here nor there. So multiple reasons not to date Mick. He’s a jerk, I am not attracted to him, and he’s a Norm. Multiple can be more than two. Don’t judge me.

I glare at Mick, narrowing my hazel green eyes I brush past him so I don’t have to tilt my head awkwardly. I hate being petite and at 5’0” I am the definition of petite. Petite and curvy. It sucks. I look like Marilyn Monroe just not as tall. “If you are done. I will go clock in after I get touched up.” I brushed past him and walked into the back of the bar and shedding the black leather jacket I opened my locker and grabbed my outfit. Pulling out the black low cut tight tank top and black leggings. I turned and hustled down the hall to the bathroom and changed. It was all skin tight and I was glad for my high metabolism that kept me slim but toned due to the athletic routine that I had. I learned sexy sells in my business so I didn’t complain that I had to wear a cheap knock off of what looked like it amounted to a “Cats” post production costume. At least I got to wear my own choice in shoes. Pick your battles and be thankful for small favors. Pulling on my bright red high top chucks and lacing them up I ran over to the mirror and touched up my matching lipstick.

Thankfully I was one of those that didn’t need more than eyeliner, powder, and lipstick or gloss for work. Mascara was overkill since my lashes were so long, dark and thick. I wasn’t leaving my hair down tonight. I was wearing bright red lipstick for Christ sake and I was not smearing it across my face. I put it up in a high ponytail like Genie in “I Dream of Genie” and it still fell to my mid back. If I had a vanity it was my hair. Thick and straight as a pin to my waist.

Done at 09:59 I clocked in at 10:00 and all Hell broke loose from the sky…

May 5th, 2012, 14:37
Someone burst into the bar that I was still manning and was dead except for Jimmy. Jimmy the on the wagon off the wagon boozer but who always paid his tab and always tipped well. The guy was distraught and ran up to me breathless. After all the explosions that had rocked the city and most of the staff praying that nothing would come our way it had started to quiet down. I kept my head down and stayed out of it. I hadn’t survived torture and mutilation to be back on government radar so that they could do it to me all over again.

The guy was wide eyed as he took gulping breaths and I slid him a water on the house as he white knuckled the bar. “My wife..pregnant...accident...two blocks...east.” He rasped out. “Help.”

I looked over at Jimmy who turned a whiter shade of pale and knew that I had to do something. “Jimmy you know I know exactly how much money is in the register and how much alcohol I have on hand and in the back. I will ring you double...no triple till the day you die, if I find one drop or one penny missing.”

“Now Miss Jocy ya know I wouldn’t do that to ya. Ya get your keys and lock us in and me and the Mister here will wait for his Misses and ya to come back.”

I nod and take down my hair putting it in a low ponytail so I can get my helmet on. I click off the OPEN sign and lock the door running for the back door and grabbing my helmet. I have never run so fast in my life. Hopping on the Ninja I gun it and go two blocks toward the chaos that was reigning.

May 5th, 2012, 14:43

I almost passed the accident and jerk to a stop as I survey the scene. It’s like something out of Steven King’s Christine and a splash of Lovecraft Horror added in. I hear faint moaning and kick the stand out and run over toward it. I see a very pregnant woman with her arm broken in a compound fracture and she looks like she’s in pain. A lot of pain. I pull of my right glove and talk to her. “Hello lovely. Your husband sent me. Is it just your arm that is broken?”

“Y-yes. But I think I’m having contractions.” She groans deeply.

Yes because this is what I bloody well need. “Okay dearest. Can you move?”

“M-maybe. Oh God it hurts!!” She cries out in pain. As I open the door and unbuckle her. If she’s gone into labor there is nothing I can do about that except deliver a baby. Hopefully not here.

“Alright pigeon we’ll need to get you on the bike…” As I say this I reach out for the fracture and the instant I put pressure on it she passes out. Well that helps. With her passed out she won’t realize I’m a mutant and that I can heal via touch. This is the reaction I was hoping for and it seems like I have some run of luck sometimes. She whimpers as I heal her and within seconds of the healing a contraction hits hard and she’s awake screaming. Great. “Okay everybody on the bike. I am taking you to your husband and we are going to have a baby. Just not here.” I reach up and snatch the helmet off my head and put it on hers. Then snag the baby bag that they had stashed in the car. Thank god for prepared parents.

It’s awkward but we get her on the bike and off her head back to The Rum House.

May 5th, 2012, 14:55

I park the bike and get the helmet off her just as another contraction hits. “Breath through it. Come on love, inside.” I unlock the door and get her to the office she’s yelling the whole way and her husband comes running. “Look stay with her I’ll get what we need.” He nods as I pass him and run to grab the clean towels, a bottle of our best vodka and brandy. I toss Jimmy a clean bucket. “Fill that 3/4ths of the way with hot hot water then come cold water.” I don’t wait for a reply I move on to sanitizing my hands Then putting on gloves that I keep for sanitizing.

May 5th, 2012, 15;27

“This little man wanted to see his parents” I say cleaning off a squalling newborn. I take off the gloves but manage to keep my left hand from being touched. That could kill someone with all the toxins that are built up in my system. Over the years I’ve managed to isolate and concentrate them to my left hand. I shake the dad’s hand, mom’s hand and heal her and manage to chase away an infection that could have killed their baby boy. I feel good about myself as I turn them over to the ambulance that came finally.

“You’re a-a what ya call those...a mutant!!!” Jimmy whispers in disbelief from behind me as the new family leaves. I close my eyes for a moment cursing the fates that made me the way I am.

I turn around and give him the look of you-just-said-too-much. “You’re drunk I’ll call you a cab and you can go home and sleep it off.” I reach for the phone and he grabs my left hand. My bare left hand. Quickly I reach out and grab his left wrist which completes the circle. This kills me to know how this feels I felt like this for years in Canada while a war was raging and I was being experimented on. “Jimmy you dumbass. Yes you are correct. I am a mutant. And yes I know the agony you are going through right now. Imagine that for years at the tender age of six till about sixteen. Ten years. Years Jimmy not the few minutes you will have to endure. It is truly amazing that I did not snap. Now just to let you know I am very resilient and I will find you so this is what you are going to do. You will quit drinking. You will turn your god forsaken life around and you never, and I mean NEVER talk about this conversation we had. When people ask you why you changed your lifestyle you will tell them you had a come to Jesus moment and that you realized that at the age of 43 you could do better and you set yourself on this course. You will say NOTHING about me. I hope we’re clear because if you do say something, ANYTHING, about me to ANYONE I will find you and you will see your death that day. Are we clear? If we are let go of me.” Jimmy let go and moments later I let go with my left hand. He then scrambled to the wall and pushed himself off the floor. “Oh and by the way this is a blind spot in the camera so don’t think to threaten me.” He nodded and took off. I sighed and cleaned up the mess clicked the open sign back on and pulled on my black leather gloves and pulled a brush through my hair and put it back in the I Dream Of Genie ponytail and wiped down the counter and waited to see if anyone else was going to come in.

Draku would stand at the edge of the Empire State Building, arms folded across his chest, lost deep in thought. After all the time he spent here in this new age, things were still so alien to him, and being no stranger to the supernatural, he still could not wrap his mind around how many super powered beings now occupied this world.

Many an opportunity to protect the mortals of this world did present themselves however, Draku seemingly always being in the right place at the right time. In the time he resided in this era, he had saved countless innocent lives from all sorts of disasters. Natural and man-made alike. He didn't always have the smoothest way of doing things, sometimes causing more damage to the surrounding area than the original disaster itself would have caused, but he always saved lives.

Though he took no side, he also answered to no one for what he considered a good deed. Saving lives seemed more important than bothering with the governing forces that ruled these lands, earning him the title of Anti- Hero by the presses and several other media outlets. It was a bit comical to him, the term made little sense, yet it filled him with a sense of accomplishment. But for that very reason, he wasn't on good standing with the law.

He was here in this very spot when the incident unfolded. He could have intervened, but he didn't, he didn't raise a single finger, nor move a single muscle. Rather. He chose to watch it all with unwavering attention to detail. He knew nothing of the cause for this massive attack on this city, but he did know that the beings protecting it were worthy heroes indeed and had decided that his own services were unrequired. They had seemed to be doing enough damage on their own as it stood.

With a heavy sigh, Draku would step from the edge of the building out into open air; allowing himself to plummet towards the ground below, taking the 1,250 foot drop without so much as a spike in his heart rate. Within the near 10 seconds it took to reach the ground below, he would have created a powerful gust of wind beneath him; compared to that of a vertical wind tunnel used in indoor skydiving facilities, to slow his fall. As he saw it, he'd rather kick up some dirt and debris than crater the concrete from the impact of his landing; limiting the amount of collateral damage he was capable of causing altogether. He would land fully erect, his coat billowing about him as the wind dispersed, sliding his hands into his coat pockets and walking away from the awe struck bystanders. He needed a drink and knew of this interesting little bar he could get one at.

Eric leaned against the wall of an alley next to the loud 80s themed club which was currently bursting at the seams with various hipster-types and drunk clubbers. Eric, was about to look like the biggest target on the shooting range but he was never one to do things stealthily. He flicked the cigarette he had been smoking to the ground and put on his aviators, concealing his piercing yellow eyes as he rounded the corner and entered the club.

Some vampire had been prowling this club for a few weeks now, turning people and feeding every weekend. It was going to be a tough fight, Eric obviously couldn't carry his sword in so he'd need to resort to more improvised methods of attack. He waded through the crowd of dancing people, scanning the club for any signs of the vampire until he finally caught glimpse of the pale fucker sitting in the VIP section.

A grin grew over Eric's face as he swiped an empty glass from the bar and made his way over, making sure to flash his vampiric eyes toward his target as he walked over. His ruse worked, the vampire allowed him past the bouncers guarding the VIP section with a slightly worried smile.

"Ain't seen you around these parts, friend, you part of a coven?"
"Coven ain't really the word for it. More of a social club."
"Yeah? Where you from?"
"Where I'm from doesn't matter. What matters more is where you're going."

A confused look darted across the vampire's face, but it was all too late. Eric booted the table over, leaping over it and smashing the glass into the vampire's face, grabbing him by the hair as he did. The bouncers had obviously taken notice at this point and were very angrily making their way over. Time to improvise.

Eric kept one hand firmly gripping the vampire's hair, before grabbing his belt with his free hand. What followed next resonated in the minds of the bouncers who had unfortunately tried to subdue Eric. Eric lifted the vampire and used him as a literal battering ram, swiping the bouncers out of the way and charging through the club and out the door before launching him into a wall over the street.

The vampire launched himself at Eric, but Eric was too quick, he expertly dodged any punch, swipe, or kick the vampire threw his way before cracking his jaw with a switch-kick to the face. This guy wasn't going to stay down and Eric was ill equipped to hogtie him until morning. His head darted around the area until he finally came across an alternative to the usual metal wiring he uses to tie down Vampires.

He picked the vampire up, placing him firmly against a lamppost before jumping up, grabbing the neck of the lamppost, bending it down and trapping the vampire inside the bend he'd made. If it didn't at least hold him until the sun came up and killed him, it'd at the very least humiliate him.

The sound of sirens in the distance signaled to Eric that it was time to go.

---

It had barely passed lunchtime and Eric had already managed to find himself killing vampires. He wondered if he'd ever get a day off, or at least an opponent that would give him some challenge. He thought of Morbius and how the trail had gone cold. He hoped he wasn't beyond saving.

He stood in the dingy crack den, blood staining the cuffs of his jacket and ash littering his jeans and, more importantly, his new white trainers.

Suffice to say, he needed a drink.

He spun his sword around his wrist before sheathing it in its harness. He thought of returning home, taking off his weapons and going to a bar looking like a semi-normal individual. But on the other hand there was a pub very close to where he was right now, and he didn't really care for looking normal. As long as he got his drink and possibly some food, he was happy.

He made his way down and along, before entering The Rum House, getting a few strange looks from people as he entered. Too tired to even focus, he sat at the bar, taking out his earphones as he did.
"Double-vodka coke please, and do you do food?"

Anya laid in bed, not even half asleep but still unwilling to get up. Why did waking up have to happen? Thank god she didn't have classes today, she'd die. Not even figuratively, she would just drop dead. She blew upwards, trying to get hair out of her face without having to move. Unfortunately the hair proved a little more stubborn than anticipated, and finally she was forced to push it out of her face. As she held her hand up to the light, she noticed the brace that covered her forearm.

Still there huh? She'd tried everything, hot water, melted butter, other assorted fluids, and finally just tried cutting it off. Her scissors broke in two, and her sharpest knife shattered into pieces.

So that was annoying.

She knew it was worthless, but she still tried to pry if off of her arm, groaning and rolling as she tried to use her foot to push it off of her wrist. Stupid thing didn't even move an inch. She flailed and growled, but nothing worked, she almost tried using her teeth again, but she still had the chip from last time and didn't wanna risk flat out losing one. She didn't know why she still tried, she'd done it again and again but the thing was still bound to her wrist like it had the world's best glue on the underside. She kept trying again and again, even as the thing left a nick on her finger that stung like you wouldn't believe.

She finally huffed and pushed her way into a seated position. She looked at the stupid golden thing, probably the ugliest thing she'd seen in her life, and she cursed it, she cursed herself for ever walking into that building.

Finally she just had a fit. It was childish, something she considered beneath her, but eventually she just collapsed into hysterical growling, spouting nonsense words and flailing in anger.

A yellow glow pulled her out of her furious movements. Hanging from the underside of the brace. A chain of some kind. As she moved to look more closely it moved by itself, moving into a position that was easier for her to see from. It stood upwards in the air, ignoring gravity. As she inspected it, it slowly shifted into a golden ribbon. That was fascinating. She was still mad, she swore, but it was just so intriguing, she couldn't help but stare at it. She played with it a while, wrapping it around her fingers and knocking it around. Finally she wrapped it around the finger that she had nicked earlier. When she removed it, the cut was gone, not even a scab or anything, just... gone. Like she'd never cut herself in the first place.

She stared at the ribbon, holding it in her hands with an astonished look on her face.

It was still hideous and she wished she didn't have it, but god if that wasn't cool as hell. And it could heal paper cuts? That was much, much appreciated. Finally she stood, still with the ribbon wrapped around her fingers.

She felt like she understood how to move it, to manipulate it without even touching it. She thought about it, and then the ribbon disappeared, just like that. She suddenly felt very powerful.

Anya decided to get changed real quick, then she'd look more closely at this. Even if she thought it ugly as sin, it was worth investigating. Maybe she could even figure out a way to get it off. Though it was taking more and more to convince herself that was what she wanted.

Arvin opened his eyes. As he blinked, he looked around the room he was sleeping in, as if not familiar with his surroundings, then he remembered. He had put on his usual robe and began to refresh himself. In the bathroom, he noticed a vain popping on his forehead, that reminded him of his time on the streets. Back then, every time there was a vain on his head, it would mean something is going to happen, something bad, and from that he would hide until the vain would go away. Though that was years ago, and he was a child, so he dismissed it.

" Houi! " Arvin yelled loudly, and on that moment, several young men and women, who had been standing straight, changed into a stance, one closed fist behind their back and opened hand stretched out, he then yelled again, " Kaishi! " and the students had began to face to their partner next to them, their opened hand touching. Arvin whistled in the air, and the students began to fight... no, 'spar'.

That was a regular training day for him, took about an hour long, and was taught in the morning, to warm the student's muscles. Though, it was as if something had bothered him in that training, maybe it was his vain? Arvin had no idea, he continued to think about this as he walked to the library.

"Master Kaecilius..." Arvin said while nodding, he had to greet other masters, the master had seemed to be exiting the libary, but no books had come out... Strange...

Arvin had been reading on some more meta-magic, he seemed interested of the term, Meta-magic. Arvin had begin to finish up on reading the first few pages, wanting to notify the librarian that he was going to take the books when he heard a sound. The sound of glass breaking. Arvin tossed the book on the table and went to the sound. It was the central of all the Sanctum's. The sound had been traced to the New York sanctum. New York...

Arvin had entered the room seeing the origin of the broken glass, it was a stolen artifact! Why wasn't Kaecilius there to stop him? Was he too busy looking at god knows what that he didn't notice that? He knew the perpetrator wouldn't have gone far so he bolted to the exit. Dammit! , he thought. The street was full... but through gaps of pedestrian's, he saw the thief, as they had a cloak over them, a Kamar-Taj cloak to be exact. Arvin pushed and shoved his way through people, wanting to get the thief, but it seemed like they noticed that he was after them, and started to run. Arvin couldn't make out what was under that cloak, though they had seemed to be fast.

The chase ended when the thief had turned into an Alley way. Arvin came in time to see the thief use a sling ring to open a gateway to... Hell's Kitchen? Where ever it is, it was getting dark and the traitor had ran inside the gateway. Unfortunately, the gateway closed, and he didn't know what Hell's Kitchen eve looked like. So he had to use some magic, and it seemed like his ring knew it too, as it grew warm in his hand. Arvin closed his eyes and though of two words, Hell's Kitchen. He felt the sparks fly as it made a slightly smaller gateway and Arvin followed inside. As soon as he stepped foot on it, his muscles began to ache. It was the side affect of doing something as reckless as this, though the pain subsided as it wasn't too bad.

It was dark, and Arvin looked at his surroundings, nothing. So Arvin ran into an empty alleyway and jumped up. His boot's had easily got him on top of the building, and he began to search.

It was not long after that he saw that coat that he found him, he yelled " Hey! Give that artifact back, dick-weed!". The thief turned and saw Arvin, then jumped from building to building, fast. Arvin realized his mistake and chased after the traitor. "Dammit!" He said in frustration, as he couldn't keep up with it, but he calmed himself, keeping his composure. He instead, swatted down to the ground, well roof, and jumped as high as he could.

It was as if he was gliding, but he soon caught up with the thief. Arvin had both his hands open and started to cast a spell, an energy whip. Though instead of multiple small strings, he had one, long and thick rope. Arvin threw it toward the thief, but the they had been expecting this, they had also been casting something as well. They caught the rope with the shield spell, but it was as if the spell had not latched itself on to the rope. To him, it seemed like minutes, possibly longer, but he knew what was going to happen, it was too late. They thrust their hand to the hard ground, breaking the whip's spell. On instinct he curled up into the ball and fell, knocking him out.

Arvin knew that the boots had made an aura around him so he can survive heights such as that, so he had nothing to worry, expect that the traitor will escape... and maybe get appointment's from the Ancient One, though those thoughts faded quickly as he slowly saw nothing but black. Though he saw nothing, he could sense other things, the smell of burning rubber, the sound of body on metal, and feeling of cement.

Arvin woke up breathing heavily, it was still pretty late, maybe he was out for an hour, maybe longer, but he checked his body for anything broken. Everything seemed fine, except for his right leg, not broken, but... He had no idea what it was but he knew it was bad. Arvin pushed those thoughts aside as he seemed thirsty. Maybe if I eat that'll clear my mind., he thought.

Arvin limped towards the nearest place, The Rum House. He entered it, avoiding eye contact with- is that a guy with a sword? Focus! he told himself, and walked to the nearest seat, and said " Got any whiskey? "

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May 5th, 2012, 22:45
I have washed every single glass in this bar swept, mopped, dusted, sanitized and made popcorn. Filled the pretzels, mixed nuts. Everything. Literally everything. You name it I did it. I was working on round two of wiping down the bar and contemplating refacing the liquor alphabetically when the door opened and shut. Steve Perry sang about the holding tight and the way you want it. Then in walked a slight crowd. After the chaos reigned down on NYC I figured that this is a crowd that might start something. Not my kind of scene and I really hate it when I am working. I had the makings of a tense atmosphere and that makes me edgy. Serving drinks and telling people what you see as snacks is what you get. Now I do not mind repeating myself as long as I am speaking to a different person but after the second time I have to tell you that I am not a cook and this is not a diner I am done. After that you’re cut off. Piss me off after that and I will not hesitate to call the cops.

I was about to tell someone that for a third time I was not running a kitchen when trouble walks in. Open carrying swords and everything. My night just got complicated as I saw the looks he was getting as he sauntered across the room and sat down at the corner of the bar. He pulls out ear buds as I am walking over to him to address him. “Double-vodka coke please, and do you do food?”

I decided to be cheeky. At least a little. “I eat. But unfortunately for you gent what you see is what you get.” I slide a bowl of pretzels at him. “If you can find a place that delivers then you can have whatever you want... Excuse me.” I step away and raise my voice. “OI YOU!! YEAH YOU WITH THE CIGARETTE!!! LIGHT UP IN HERE AND YOU WILL HAVE TO SIT ON YOUR FOOD TO EAT IT!!! PATIO IS OUT THAT WAY” I point emphatically to the right with my gloved hand giving the guy the evil eye. He gets up and mutters as he stands up. “WANNA MAKE MY NIGHT WANKER TRY ME!! THE NO SMOKING SIGN IS IN BLOODY ENGLISH AND THAT’S HOW YOU BLOODY WELL ORDERED!!! OUT!!!!!!! PICK PATIO OR FRONT DOOR!! AND IF IT IS THE FRONT DOOR YOU CAN BLOODY WELL TAB OUT NOW!!!!” The guy raised his hands and went out the side door to the patio. I manage to pour a double vodka and coke in the middle of the tirade. I pass it over to the Highlander. “That will be five dollars did you want to start a tab? And you do know that you can’t carry those blades on you in here. Rules and all gent. I’ll put them behind the bar and you can have them back on two conditions. One when you’re leaving and the second. Well let’s just cross that bridge if and when we come to it.” I raise an eyebrow looking at him levelly. I seriously don’t need this after the day I just had. Plus I am the only one on duty and will be till close. Jessie called in at two this afternoon saying there was no way in hell he was coming in.

Just as I thought I was getting somewhere with the Highlander the door opens and in walks another patron and sits a few chairs down from the Highlander. “Got any whiskey?” I nod and grab a decent whiskey and pour a shot.

I nod back at the Highlander. “What you say Highlander? Do I check the swords for you or do I have to call the fuzz?” Then I turn to the other gent. He has pretty eyes. “Well Pretty Eyes that will be three fifty. You starting a tab?”

The cargo plane's engines roared as it flew towards its destination. Its ramp was lowered. Several soldiers with heavy weaponry stood nearby, although not too close to the gaping hole, careful not to fall into it. Jord, however, stood there without a care in the world. His heavy power armour was too heavy to get dragged by wind gusts, and the fact he was partially holding on to a wall helped as well. He checked his equipment, making sure the two parachutes attached to his shoulders were secure and his weapons were all attached properly to his back. He didn't really think the parachutes were necessary as he trusted in the strength of his armour, but was rather safe than sorry.

"ETA to LZ: two minutes." Announced the plane's pilot. Jord took his BFG and shot a few rounds into the sky, checking to see if the weapon still worked. He was satisfied with the result, and after waiting two minutes he stepped back, ran for the ramp and jumped out the plane without saying another word to the people inside.

"Remind me, what was my mission again?" Jord said, talking to the communication device that they had placed in his helmet prior to the mission as he was quickly falling to the ground.

"You have to take out most of the base's defenses and soldiers inside. Then we will take it over from you. Please don't try to blow up anything else, we want the infrastructure in top condition." Replied the contact for the group he was working for at the moment.

"Understood," Jord replied. "But I can't guarantee I won't blow anything up."

Blowing stuff up is kind of my thing these days He thought. It was not far from the truth. Ever since he had received his power armour and weapons from wherever he got it, he had been working as a mercenary for various organizations around the globe. It gave him a massive headache whenever he tried to remember stuff from that time, and he couldn't remember anything anyway, but he still kept trying. It wasn't in his nature to just give up. For this particular mission he had been hired by some global military organization. He couldn't really remember the exact details, but he was getting paid so it was okay.

Jord's thought process was abruptly stopped when someone yelled at him over the radio, telling him to open his parachute. He swiftly did, and he slowly glided towards the base. Several anti-air cannons had spotted him and turned towards him, but they were too late as he destroyed them with a few salvos from his BFG. As soon as he hovered a few meters above the ground he cut the parachutes, falling the rest of the way. As soon as he touched the ground however, dozens of soldiers poured out from the base's buildings. Jord just grinned as he saw them approach.

The resulting fight was glorious. Jord cut down enemies left and right using his sword as they approached him. Fuel tanks blew up as he shot them, taking out many of the soldiers. Gun emplacements were destroyed to pave the way for the rest of the paratroopers. As soon as the rest of the agents or whatever they were had arrived from the plane, Jord used the Bulwark to shield them, taking the brunt of the heavy fire. When the battle was over, he checked his injuries. He had taken some damage, but ignored it and refused medical aid.

He got another comms message from his contact. "There is something going on in New York. We might bring you there depending on the situation. Please stand by."

---

Eric harrumphed, staring down into the bowl of pretzels with a hungry look in his eyes. He wondered if the bar did serve food, and these pretzels were just a ploy to make him more thirsty. At this point, however, he couldn't care less, she could've slid a four course meal to him and he'd probably have been just as happy.
"Pretzel's will do I s'pose" He murmured, picking at them as the bartender very calmly escorted a smoker from the bar.

When the topic of handing his swords over came up, Eric raised an eyebrow. To be quite honest, he'd forgotten he even had them, but the balls on the bartender to ask a man with sleeves doused in blood carrying two swords was quite impressive. He thought to himself for a second, considering refusing if only to see what would happen.

Nah, not worth it.

He removed them from his harness, planting them on the bar top and pointing at the sheathed adamantium blade as he did.
"Keep good care of that one. Worth more than this city, let alone this pub. Any chance you'll tell me what this other condition is?" He half-joked, digging into his pocket, opening his wallet and planting a five dollar bill on the table.
"Don't like opening debts i'm afraid." he spoke, in response to opening a tab.

Draku would stroll into The Rum House as the bar maid finished completely separating a smoking patron's head from his shoulders for doing so within the establishment, causing him to pause and look down to the lit joint between his lips; slowly stepping backwards towards the entrance and launching it across the street with one quick puff of air. He preferred to remain on her good side, becoming somewhat of regular here ever since he started visiting New York, taking his regular place at the far side of the bar. This night, he went by particularly unnoticed. Not that he minded, the atmosphere here was fairly reminiscent of his cohorts own establishment from back in his time; giving him a sort of relaxed nostalgic feeling that made him feel somewhat at home. With hands clasped before him and both pointer fingers placed under his chin, he opened an eye at the all too familiar scent of a Dhampir coated in ash and blood. He remembered him. Though they never actually encountered each other, he was present during one of his beautifully executed onslaughts on a particularly nasty coven of vampires. It was a thoroughly impressive feat. One deserving of Draku's own respect. He chuckled at the sideways glances the Dhampir received from the others patrons before closing his eye and listening to the bartender request the Dhampir's weapons. He typically gave her, or anyone who worked behind the bar, a moment to deal with all of the other patrons before ordering his drink. It not only gave him an opportunity to sort through his thoughts, but a chance to figure out what he wanted to try and inebriate himself with.

It was only moments after the fact that another voice came from the bar, he didn't bother opening his eyes this time. No familiar scents came from this one. He just sat and listened to him order his drink and the Dhampir relinquish his blades. Draku smirked thinking how lucky he was to never have to carry his own blade, the poor girl wouldn't even be able to move the thing even if she tried. His pistol on the other hand, luckier still that he could keep it concealed. He would sigh before opening his eyes behind the dark sunglasses he wore upon his face, watching the bartender as the Dhampir placed a bill down on the bar's top.

March 15th, 2012 | 18:47:32
Location: [REDACTED]

The recoil was all too familiar. Caesar practically felt it in slow-motion as he watched down the scope. 1... 2... hit. The few moments of calm were anticipated as Caesar watched the bullet penetrate the small, wooden crate in the warehouse. He watched the flames erupt, and the chain of explosions sent a cloud of flame and smoke into the air, clearly visible from miles around. Caesar took a second to relish in his shot, a simple one compared to his usual work, but threading a bullet through a two-inch gap from this distance was still impressive. Just as he was about to pack up his equipment, he noticed a movement from the factory doors. Multiple movements.

From behind the now-bent metal doors of the warehouse stumbled a few figures, smaller than he was expecting. He watched in horror, scanning what he had just done. A truck pulled up, and armed soldiers... no... agents bellowed out from the back. They wore the same colors... the same emblems that Caesar wore.

Caesar disassembled his sniper as he had been trained, quickly pocketing the single shell casing on the ground next to him. He did his best to not think about what had just happened. The pieces were assembling in his mind as the familiar sound of a Quinjet battered his ears. Caesar grabbed his gun-case and slid down the ladder as the spotlight graced over his sniper's nest, cleaned up except for a single item.

Minutes after Caesar's departure, the operatives had converged on the location. Lying on the roof of the garage was a single SHIELD badge with Caesar's identification number... a clear sign of Caesar's retirement.


May 5th, 2012 | 05:36:23
Location: Pier 78, Hell's Kitchen, New York City

Jax sat on the small metal bench overlooking the ferry yards ahead of him. The workers were rather slow to start their morning routine in readying the ferry for today's tourists. A few tourists had already begun gathering, hoping to get their sightseeing tour of the New York Skyline in the early hours of the day. A man in a suit and tie sat down next to Jax, who was sporting his usual biker jacket and jeans. The suited man gave a small smile, not even looking in Jax's direction. "Today is supposed to be great weather. Nice day for a boat ride."

"If you're trying to ask me out on a date, Myers, you should be a little more forward," Jax responded flippantly, as usual. "I got you the files you wanted. I'm glad to see you trying to make new friends, but I feel like spying on them isn't exactly the best option, Caesar."

Myers held out a small, heavy duty cell-phone. Jax gave a small smile and grabbed it, tapping the lock button to reveal a shield wallpaper. "Caesar died on that rooftop. I go by Slingshot now... and you guys really need to stop putting your tacky logo on everything." Jax pocketed the phone and stood up, walking towards his Diabola V65C.

Myers sat there for a moment, watching the former agent drive away at a breakneck speed East. "Slingshot... that's the dumbest name I've ever heard."

@Almalthia

Arvin reached for his glass when he winced in pain. It sucks that his dominant side is hurt. He then reached for his left and took sipped the whiskey. Strong...

He looked up at the Bartender... pretty attracting...

With the topic of a tab came up, he straightened himself, " Not so bad yourself, erm, Hair? Whatever, and yes." Arvin said.

As he drank, he looked and listened around the House.

"Hey, ev'er heard what happened?

"What?"

"Some say some werid alien shit is goin' on."

"You're fucking with me."

The conversation went on, and on, and Arvin listened. He has never heard of anything outside of Kama-Taj, but this surly was something he should've known. He then turned back to the women, " You anything about this alien shit?" Arvin asked her, whilst playing with his ring, twisting it, as the color of the material surrounding the ring is changing, a sign of him being nervous.

(Sorry if this is pretty short.)

---

---

---

May 5th, 2012, 22:55

Yep trouble. The Highlander was TROUBLE. That was blood. Not likely his. I am killing Jessie. That bloody wanker. I paste a smile on my face and take the swords and put them under the shotgun on the wire rack under the counter. I take my leather gloves off and turn and grab a dry clean rag and dip it in the sanitizer and water. Wringing it out till it is just damp I hand it to the Highlander so he can wipe the blood off. “I am going to assume that is from today and from some of the chaos around NYC.” I point to his sleeves. I actually smirk when he asks about the other condition. “I will let you know once it is met, Highlander.” I nod at his mention of debts. To each his own.

I saw Draco walk in and sit down at his regular spot at the other end of the bar closer to the patio. He didn’t mind waiting so I watched Pretty Eyes wince and raised an eyebrow. Did he call me Hair? Seriously? Wow this guy needs some flirting brushup. I slip my right glove off and reach out to lay my hand on his as he listened to the people in the bar. Then he turned around and asked if I knew anything about this alien stuff and he fidgeted with his ring. I reached out and squeezed his hand healing him. “Not much Pretty Eyes. What I do know is you need a brush up on flirting. Think of something and fire it at me here in a second. I need to get Draco’s order.”

I moved over to Draco. “You know I am not wanting to be pushed around tonight. What’s your poison tonight, Draco?”

Something tinged in his arm, what was it? Though it happened when the lady touched him. [color=firebrick]" Wha- " [/firebrick] he said, baffled. Then when she was gone, he touched his hand... it's healed. Arvin got up quickly and rushed in the bathroom.

In the washroom, he tested his magic, doing a simple enchantment, and sure enough, it was healed, and he did it with perfection. He then created a gateway to the New York Sanctum, about to go in, but he hesitated. Maybe Kama-Taj can wait...

No, he needs to find the thief, though he-

Arvin noticed he been there too long, so it's now or never. " Oh, fuck it! " he said, as the gateway closed he flushed the toilet, and went down on his seat, but as she came back, he said, " Hey, you have an inhaler? Because you just took my breath away. How's that? " he said, finishing his first shot.

@Almalthia

The streets of NYC were vibrant as expected. Jord has never been there, but he had always seen it on the internet, TV and pictures. He didn't really want to go there either, but the people who he worked for at the moment (who, upon closer investigation, turned out the be called "SHIELD" had sent him there after, alledgedly, there'd been an alien attack and a group of people called the "Avengers" had stopped them. Jord, as a mercenary working for various secret organizations around the globe, lived in relative isolation compared to most other people so he hadn't heard that before.

Jord was walking through the streets of the city. He stil had loads of little cuts and wounds on his arms from an earlier mission. The money he gained from his previous assignment was more than enough to cover hotel costs, because the organization he was there for didn't want to pay them for some reason. He had to leave his equipment and weapons there since he couldn't just march around through the city wearing full power armour. It was spring, and it was slowly getting very warm. Luckily Jord was resistant to heat, but to his disappointment he could not stave off the thirst that followed, and so he was looking for a place to drink.

After taking a few turns, he came upon a bar called "The Rum House". Interested and above all dehydrated, he went inside, walked right up to the bar, and said to the waitress "I would like a beer, please"

May 5th, 2012 | 22:55:18
Location: The Rum House, Manhattan, New York City

Interactions: @Almalthia, @chain, @Draku69 @sewer rat @jorcool

The noise of the engine died down as Jackson removed the keys from his bike. He parked in the back alley near a rather wicked motorcycle. Not American-Made, but a rather slick beast. The tired man unclipped the somewhat large metal case hanging off the back, replacing the space with his black, custom motorcycle helmet. He sighed as he walked back out onto the sidewalk. A show just let out down the street, so a rather strange assortment of theater patrons were creating a little extra traffic. Jackson checked the sign outside of the bar, and then looked back at his phone. "Guess she is trying to keep a low profile." Jackson kept his head down as he made his way into the small bar.

The sight before him was not entirely what he was expecting. The motley crew occupying various parts of the bar both intrigued and perplexed him. Regardless, Jackson made his way towards the bar counter, taking the first empty seat he could get to. He settled himself in next to Blade. He slowly set down his case, a rather oblong case that a few in the bar with military training would recognize as a gun-case, but to others could be confused as some sort of stored instrument. He readjusted the SIG on his side as he sat down, making it relatively clear he was armed. He was in a bar with a few powered individuals: he needed to show he wasn't messing around entirely.

He gave a small smile towards the woman behind the bar. "Tito's, double... keep it neat... please." He then scanned over his fellow patrons, his eyes locking on a certain Dhampir next to him. Jackson kept his gaze focused on Blade for a few VERY uncomfortable seconds before giving a small smile and turning his gaze to the countertop. "Should have bought a lottery ticket. I didn't realize everyone would all be in the same place at once." His eyes then darted between the robed man, the mercenary Jackson could have sworn looked a little familiar, and the weird metalhead rocker, raising his eyebrows but holding back what he really wanted to say. Best not insult everyone so early on.

Draku would grin at Jocelyn's comment, partly due to the fact that she was so striking and partly due to the fact that she tended to call him by one of the 88 modern day star constellations, but as he was about to let her know what he wanted he was interrupted by the robed man who had rushed off to the restroom.

Draku couldn't help but to have felt as if he had really been that fixated on figuring out what to drink for that long. Shaking his head at the entire incident, he'd open his mouth just as another patron walked right up to the bar to order a beer.

Draku clenched his jaw slightly, not the guys fault he was taking so long to order something, but seriously though? Twice in one sitting? He would tilt his head slightly, looking to the door as another man walked through it; one seemingly familiar with his surroundings, leaning back and waited for the man to finish speaking before looking back to the bar tender for his turn.

May 5th, 2012; 22:45pm
It had only been one hour since I killed Kazimir. I had no regrets over that. In fact, I've become quite desensitized to it. It wasn't the first time I've killed a boss of mine and it certainly won't be the last. That being said, I didn't want to encounter his goons. I'm really in no mood to fight them, not that I wouldn't take any pleasure in doing so. I'd rather just get out of New York City as soon as possible before they find me.

Of course, stopping somewhere for a little drink shouldn't hurt anything.

I always try to make time for a little alcohol. It helps take away the sting that is simply living life.
I had overheard a couple talking about this bar called the Rum House that's in Hell's Kitchen. It's a little too close to where I had just come from, but I can never resist trying out a new bar.
Now, I don't have a car, I hate taxis, and walking would take too long so, so I decide to take a tram to Hell's Kitchen. After I get on, I pick a seat that is the furthest away from the other people that have joined me on this tram.

I lean my head against the window of the tram as the sound of it speeding along track seems to almost soothe me. There aren't many people on the tram, which I'm thankful for. The fewer people I’m around, the better. The ones I'm around today don't seem like a talkative bunch either. Guess the odds are in my favor. I breathe a small sigh of relief. I don't normally get these "calm before the storm" moments. I always make sure to enjoy them whenever they happen since they are so rare and far apart. They usually don't last very long either. So, it's important to savor those serene moments.

It doesn't take long to get to my destination, thank goodness. I had to walk the rest of the way to the Rum House, which only took seven minutes.

Okay, now I hope I get into a little trouble. This is just going too smoothly. Maybe a little bar fight will ensue while I'm here. Those are always entertaining to watch.

Once I arrive at the Rum House, I see that it's already full of people. Quite the odd bunch, really. There aren't many seats open for me, save for this lone seat at the end of the bar. I go ahead and sit there. I usually prefer to sit in those corner booths. It gives me a (false sense) of security. But not only were there not many available tonight, I just wanted to get a quick drink and then leave. So, I stay seated at the bar.

If one looked closely you would say it looked like you could see small smoke trails coming off the bike as well as the man riding it. The bike was a jet black Harley Davidson with a small yellow harp painted onto the fuel tank. The man riding the bike seemed of average height if ever so slightly on the taller side of the scale. He wore a leather jacket with a cross on the back that wings behind it. None of this is what made the man stand out however. Rather it was the fact that instead of a normal melmet his was a sort of mask helmet. All black with no mouth space it seemed as if he wouldn't be able to speak or breathe. If you could see under the mask you would be shocked to find out that this vigilante was in fact none other than Boston's own Finnlay MacTyre.

Suddenly the bike stopped at a warehouse not far from the docks. The man that had been riding it stepped off of it and made his way towards one of the side doors only to find it locked. Looking around a second the man's gaze settled on a window that was broken near the top of the building. Looking up at the broken window Finnlay, or as he's called when in his gear “Smoke Screen”, Let his body be consumed in smoke as he moved in through the window. Looking down he saw a group of men moving boxes around in the warehouse while opening others. Looking down at them he saw his main target, a gang leader of one of the many small street gangs trying to make a power play. Finn shook his head “They never learn.” he said to himself. Dropping down from the walk way he was perched on he gained the attention of the gang members who to there credit opened fire immediately.

Finn simple let the bullets pass right through him as he stood there as if nothing was happening. He never said a word as he slowly walked towards them. One of the gang members came running with a bat thinking for whatever reason a bat would be the solution to this problem. However just like the bullets it did nothing but pass straight through him. The poor man didn't have anytime to think before he saw the barrel of Smoke Screens pistol in his face before the flash. Finn instantly turned around turning into his smoke form as he moved with a fast past dipping and dodging around the warehouse systematically eliminating every last one of the Gang members. Finally all that was left was him the gang leader and a boy who couldn't be more the 13.

“l-l-l-Listen man i'll give you whatever you want. You want the weapons you can have them hell i'll even give you the money I was gonna get just let me live.” Finnlay ignored the mans pleas for help as he began to raise his pistol up the the man's head.

BANG. The mans lifeless body fell to the ground from being shot by two bullets from Finlays custom pistols. Turning to the young boy who was at this point petrified beyond belief at witnessing the blood shed. Speaking for the first time that night Smoke Screen said in a voice that was slightly deeper thanks to the mask “This is your only warning. Leave here and turn your life around. If I see you again in this setting you will end up like your friends here.” and with that he vanished into smoke. The boy only broke out of his fear when he heard the sound of a motorcycle driving away and the sounds of police sirens.