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[IC] 《 H. E. R. O. 》 Page 7

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Hidden 5 yrs ago → 5 yrs ago Post by Danvers
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Danvers boo

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Whilst Grace was batting her eyelashes at Martino, Brie instead looked like she was fighting back the urge to throw up. She'd either completely ignored what Grace had said or was simply too repulsed to do otherwise. "This guy..." She murmured under her breath as she watched him wrap his slimy hands around her two friends.

Despite being extremely revolted by the man in front of them, her expression briefly softened when her gaze passed over Angie. Or where Angie had been since she was now seeing Will in her place. God, her power sure was trippy. A slight smile had begun to tug at the corners of her lips, although it quickly faded away when Martinos loud, and incredibly obnoxious, voice punctuated through the room.

"...those are two threes if I've ever seen them."

The low hanging pendant lights that were dotted above the bar flickered wildly for a few moments as she picked up her empty glass, seriously mulling over whether it would be worth it to throw it at the back of his misshapen head. Sure it would ruin the entire mission but it would also feel so good. It was only one teeny tiny glass after all. It wouldn't even hurt him that much. Hell, the fact that she was even giving it a second thought was a miracle, compared to what she'd have done a year or two ago.

"Ah, miss. Can you please not throw the glassware in here. We are a strictly no fighting establishment." A voice interrupted the fog of infuriation that had taken over, snapping her back to reality. Turning to see the young bartender smiling calmly at her, she reluctantly handed the glass back to him, although he had to tug at it a couple of times before she loosened her grip. It said a lot about the area they were in that a no fighting rule had to be specified, and also that the bartender seemed very unperturbed by this all.

"Sorry." Managing a cursory smile, Brie turned back to the others, straightening her blouse as she did so. "If I wasn't on this damn mission...I'd like to smash his smug face, then kick him in t-..." She trailed off awkwardly, realising that she should probably shut up. Brookside really did not bring out the best side of her. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Brie listened to Grace before nodding in agreement. "I've got my car just round the corner. Best we take that. It's pretty beat up so I don't think it'll look out of place whilst we're following him. Also, can you guys keep an eye out for anyone whilst I'm driving? Some of the street gangs like to stop cars and then rob them. It's crazy how many people fall for it too." With that, she stood up, making her way out of the speakeasy and heading towards the small alley where they had stored the car, the street feeling busier and significantly more sketchy now that the evening was creeping in.

"Jjamppong." Brie repeated the word Grace had spoken earlier as they walked, testing it on her tongue. It was hard to say and she definitely did not have the correct pronunciation, but she still enjoyed trying. "I like that! I've for sure met a lot of jjamppongs in my life." Dodging past some drunks who were swerving in the middle of the sidewalk, she turned around briefly to smile at Grace. "Someone once taught me the russian word for asshole...Mudak I think it was! That was always one of my favourites. And that Martino guy back there was definitely a Mudak..."

As she started thinking about how she would get payback on Martino, the trio rounded a corner, where they would come across an old Subaru Impreza that definitely looked like it had seen better days. Brie hadn't bothered to lock the car because well, it was Brookside and if someone wanted to steal it, they would have. Opening the door, she hopped into the driver's seat before rooting around in the glove compartment for the key. "Where are you...where are you..." She mumbled to herself, before realising that it definitely was not there. "What sort of asshole only steals a key! Probably some junkie who forgot what he was doing halfway through..." Frowning, she placed her hand over the flimsy plastic dashboard, waiting patiently until the car sprung into life a few moments later, the engine chugging away noisily. Happy with this outcome, she turned to the other two, looking at them expectantly. "Ready?"

@hitman @kaijubaragon
Hidden 5 yrs ago → 5 yrs ago Post by Scarifar
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Scarifar Presto~!

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Rumi Bers Polamor

@Hitman@canaryrose


Chris was standing several feet away from the front door when Blake made his announcement to Polamor Inc's reception area. Stepping forward, he said to Blake, "My name is Chris, Mr. von Brandt. And yes, Mr. Polamor informed me that you would arrive. Follow me, please." With that, Chris would lead them through into a hall, entering a door to Rumi's office. It was a nice place, with a few bookshelves lining the wall, and an oval-shaped rug was laid in the center of the room. At the end of the room was a long wooden desk, with many drawers at the side and a phone and computer on its surface. Chris picked up the phone and dialed a number into it, then opened a drawer that held a false bottom, revealing a liquid metal scanner. After placing his hand inside, the rug in the center of the room moved to the side like a roomba, and a panel of the floor opened up, revealing a staircase. Climbing down the stairs would finally lead to Rumi's personal workshop.

"They're here, sir," Chris announced to Rumi, who had just finished prepping what he would need for the scan.

"Great, thanks, Chris," Rumi said. "You can go now."

After Chris left, leaving Blake and Jamie with Rumi, Rumi told them, "Just place that collar on the table. Let's see what secrets it's got for us." Once Blake placed the collar onto the table, it would begin to scan, a band of light moving across the screen like a printer. A holographic image would then construct itself in the air, with all the parts the collar was constructed with, both large and intricate. Rumi made gestures with his hands to separate the individual components into separate layers, enlarging a certain part if he found it of particular note.
Hidden 5 yrs ago → 5 yrs ago Post by LilSwifty
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LilSwifty Danish Pastry

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@Rabidporcupine

Charlotte looked down at the lizard man. Ew. She had just kissed a lizard man. She said nothing, just stared at her boss. Richard was cowering in the corner.

“You fucking pussy. Get up and clean the place up you asshole” She lit a cigarette and looked back to Joseph.

"Well, I've gotta say, that wasn't half bad..."
She shook her head.

“I… haven’t done anything like that in a while…” She whispered, watching Joseph pull weapons off of the man. What the heck were those attached guns? Weird.

"Hey Cashier, nice job." She scowled.
“Not anymore… and my name is actually Charlotte.” She took a huge drag and sighed deeply, looking over to Richard. His beetroot face was now looking pretty angry. Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek slightly. As she held back tears again she looked up to see Joe holding something up for her.

"If you can't find a new job somewhere else, press a drop of your own blood into this symbol here in the center, and it'll let us talk without having to worry about phone numbers or anything like that. I'll talk to Powers when he gets back from France. I reckon he'll be interested in someone with... I'm guessing some kind of wind manipulation?"

She scratched her head and took the small piece of paper. It had some odd scribbles on it.

"Oh well, whatever. If you're ever interested in a job at HERO, use the rune and I'll organize a meeting. Or just go to the Lucky Cow at some point and ask for Joseph if you wanna do it the boring old fashioned way. Old man there knows me by name, so he'll be able to give you my number."

She put the rune into her bag and nodded.

“I’ll… I’ll think about it,” She said, nodding to Joseph as he took the lizard man away. Richard had got up now and was staring at Charlotte, his piggy eyes bloodshot, his burning glare having next to no effect on her. She took a chocolate bar from the counter and threw her cigarette on the floor before making her way out. Richard scrambled after her but he was too short and fat, giving up after barely reaching the door.

Charlotte took her time walking home. Despite hating her job with a passion it was all she had.
It was turning dark when she arrived at her apartment. It was pretty cold and she stepped on her post as she entered. Bills, bills and more bills. She picked them up and put them on the side before making her way into the kitchen. Fuck the washing up… she was meant to do that last night. Sighing, she put the kettle on and began rooting about in the cupboards. A few packets of instant noodles fell out, one of them bursting open on the floor, oodles of noodles shattering all over the place.

“Fucks sake.”

She rooted about for her dustpan and brush, sweeping the mess up and putting it in the bin before opening the other packet and placing them into the pan, before sprinkling on the little sachet and pouring the hot water on. Lottie took the paper from her bag and looked at it. What even was it? She folded it back up and put it in her back pocket before stirring her noodles and switching on the TV. Another report on some heroics of a member of H.E.R.O. She wasn’t cut out for all that helping shit. Emptying her noodles into a bowl she pulled out the rune from her pocket and looked at it again.

“Hmm. Nah.” She threw it in the bin and changed the channel to something less boring… A gangster movie, perfect. She finished her dinner and then cleared up before going out for a smoke. She decided to take out the trash as she did so, tying a knot in the top and carrying it out. As she made her way down the stairs, something shuffled in the dark. Paying little to no attention Lottie continued as she was, putting a cigarette between her lips in preparation. As she reached the door she noticed that it was locked from the inside… usually it’s just left open because all the doors inside have locks. She went to unlock it only to be smashed against it by the person who had been hiding beneath the stairwell. Lottie’s head was bleeding and she rolled over to see a man dressed in all black. He was pressed the knife to her neck and his eyes looked angry.

“DID YOU GET MY MATE ARRESTED!” He said, his hand quivering as the knife just touched the side of her neck. Lottie was panicking slightly.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

The man began to apply pressure to her neck.

“DON’T LIE TO ME BITCH!”

Blood began to drip and she began to calm down slightly, remaining quiet as she began removing the air from the man's lungs. His eyes looked shocked all of a sudden and he lost his grip on the knife, falling to the floor and gasping for air, foam appearing at the edges of his mouth as he flounced one the ground like a fish.

“Yeah. It was me. I’ll take you to be with him if you want.”

The man looked at her and then passed out. The trash had been ripped open in the brawl and she sighed, picking it up and trying to keep it in the bag as best she could. Forgetting she had thrown it away she picked Joseph’s rune up… the blood on her hands dripped onto the piece of paper.

“Fuck”
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Shard
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Shard

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Location
💀 7-Eleven Store.
💀 East Flank.

Time
💀 Evening.

Interactions
💀 None.


For the past two years, since joining H.E.R.O, Azhar had taken the role of a background character. He didn’t go on missions with others, and outside of scarce moments spent with his coworkers, Azhar barely knew those he called teammates. One could say that it had been a deliberate decision, this social but paradoxically reclusive boy maintaining a withdrawn disposition. Could one truly blame this exotic creature, however? Azhar, or Zee, still recalled the days where he was called ’L’shaitan’, The Devil. Thinking back on his earlier days managed to conjure forth a slight chuckle, but they spoke of public acceptance. Someone like Azhar wasn’t a Hero. His bracelet allowed for him to adopt this role, but without it, there was no possibility to maintain the act. Picturing the days before he was blessed by deliberate the shackle hugging his slender forearm exposed images left forgotten. Images revealing the boy’s true nature, something pacified by current circumstances.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Azhar’s focus found its mark, no longer obfuscated by thoughts of the past. Management, that being Mr. Hugo Powers, had taken the boy into his office recently. ’You are part of the brand. You can’t keep hiding in the shadows forever.’ Whether it was an undisturbed quote from the man, or Azhar’s own interpretation was growing less discernible by the day. However, Azhar was able to fill in whatever blanks lingered following his conversation with Mr. Powers. The boy had maintained a backstage role, because his powers didn’t quite fit in with the rest. Majestic Fire, Mystical Gravity, a Siren’s Song, a Sovereign of Water, and more. As if the Greek pantheon given life and presented to the public. Among them, Azhar was Hades, his ironically favorite God, but one considered evil at worse, and dark at best.

Typically, none of this would bother the Middle Easterner. With a shrug, he would offer one of Zee’s trademarked, sharp-toothed grins, and claim that his powers were his own, and they served the purpose he had set out for them. Recent scenarios somewhat toyed with this disposition, however.

He could no longer hide behind that coy presentation. He was expected to mingle with his fellow Heroes, and Mr. Powers wasn’t known for saying his piece, followed by simply discarding it. No, when Hugo Powers presented a demand, a Hero was expected to oblige. ’This is America, after all, where the dark is Edgy, rather than frowned upon,’ Azhar often thought. For such a self-confident and steadfast individual, being a part of something bigger seemed oddly intimidating. One would be forgiven for mistaking it stage fright, a disturbance this bar singer hadn’t felt in years.

Perhaps that was why something as simple as a Java Monster Energy drink meant so much. It was the simplicity of it, and the familiarity of its chilled, cold presence. The drink had been a comfort, something to divorce Azhar from the expectations now placed on him. To ’play nice with the real Heroes’. Now, that comfort was drenching the floor, the cream-colored substance spreading across those tiles like a darkening cloud.

It was an escape, a fix. Azhar wanted his favorite beverage in an attempt to dismiss growing insecurities, if only for a brief moment. Something which had now been taken away from him. "Come on, Dracula," the boy spoke, his faint Arabic accent trickling through those ghostly words.

“Th-thanks!” A stuttering, disheveled young woman managed as she stood, eyes falling to the burglars unconcious upon her workplace floor. “I’ve..,” she breathed, “I’ve called the police.”

Affording the clerk a soft nod, Azhar paused. His favorite drink had been robbed of him, but he could pick something else. A substitute. Turning back towards the fridge as Dracula leaped onto Azhar’s shoulder, the boy wrapped his clawed fingers around the handle, and pulled the door open. A wintery, pleasant chill ran over his exposed skin, Zee’s alien-like black eyes falling on another option. "Good," came a response, if somewhat late as the mutant approached. Three cans of Pipeline Punch in all of its pink glory had been placed by the cash register before Azhar reached a hand into his shoulder bag.

“Wait, no!” The clerk exclaimed, “it’s on the house, I mean..,” she motioned towards the scene, “you did the thing.”

"The.., thing?" Azhar raised a thin, black brow as he watched the clerk bagging his drinks.

“You did the Hero thing, dude!” There was a delay in Azhar’s response, the boy’s raven gaze lingering on the young woman. She continued before he was allowed a chance to speak. “I haven’t seen you on TV or anything, though,” she explained. “You work for H.E.R.O?”

With his clawed, demonic fingers resting on the counter, Azhar would eventually raise his digits towards that plastic bag and accepted the gift he had been offered. "Yeah, I do."

“Cool!” Came an excited response. A blatant shift in demeanor, to be sure, from scared for her life to basking in the safety of having a Hero so close. “What’s your Hero name!?”

Managing an appreciative expression, the ghostly boy was unable to hide his sharp-toothed smile. "Requiem," he answered. A fitting name, one related to Death.

“Sweet! Can I have an autograph?” Incredibly unexpected, but not an unwelcomed request, one which brought laughter from the Arabic boy, before he obliged. Tracing the tip of a pencil across a blank, white surface, Azhar wrote his Heroic handle in both English and Fusha, the written form of Arabic, before sliding the haphazardly picked gift card back to its owner.

Only a fool would have missed the gathering crowd outside the 7-Eleven, however, the sound of a gunshot bringing far more observers than the police. Many with a cellphone ready, and recording. "I should, uh..," Azhar thumbed towards the door.

“Oh, yeah! Thanks, again!” The clerk finished, seeing the dark mutant slip out of the store, before bringing her phone up to open a chat window.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Amethyst
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Amethyst

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Interacting: Starbright! @Jumbus

Eliza was definitely not expecting for her practice to be interrupted by the very artist whose music she was working on. As the door burst open, she went completely invisible, clutching her violin to her chest and shrinking into the corner. But it soon became apparent that the star was not going to leave without an answer.

Still standing against the wall, Eliza slowly returned to visibility, her violin first, and her body gradually taking shape behind it. Her hair flopped into her eyes as she peered up at the man uncertainly, half-thinking he was going to yell at her or threaten to sue her over her transcription of his work. “I’m s-sorry,” she mumbled, “I uh – I – I have my license app- application in with – with your publisher, I promise – I’m getting the paperwork done, to c-cover the legal side of things, before – before the fundraiser, I promise!” she stammered, squinting up at Starbright anxiously.

Then she realized that he’d asked who she was. Right. “Oh. And um. My name’s Eliza.” She shuffled in place as she spoke, adjusting her hold on her bow and visually almost seeming to hide behind her violin.


Interacting: Patricia @canaryrose, Martino @Hitman || Other Mission-mates: @KaijuBaragon @Danvers @Hitman

Angelica was a decent actor, surprisingly, at least when veiled by her powers. For a moment she said nothing to the man, sipping her strawberry daiquiri absently while checking him out, pretending to be impressed by what she saw. As he swept Patricia off of her barstool, she rolled her eyes, focusing on her drink as she pretended to consider the offer. “I suppose I’ve nothing better to do with my evening,” she purred, slinking off the barstool to the man’s other side and blanking out her revulsion at the vague smell of unwashed person and alcohol that clung to him. She flashed a look at Patricia, hoping the younger girl was okay.

On the car ride over, Angie focused on settling the knot of tension in her chest, forcing herself to breathe as slowly as she could and relaxing the muscles in her back and shoulders. This time, they had backup. It wasn’t going to go badly at all. She gave her best, most reassuring smile to Patricia (who was not currently being affected by her powers; only Martino was). Everything was going to be fine. "This is exciting," she whispered to her, trying to appear enthusiastic.

As they exited the car, she arranged her face into an expression of suitable awe at the opulent complex ahead. She draped herself elegantly over Martino’s arm, purring something that sounded like agreement with his statement about fun, though she internally cringed at the thought of even letting him touch her. God, she was definitely going to need a shower before she was able to look Blake in the eyes, after this.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by KaijuBaragon
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KaijuBaragon Victoria Concordia Crescit

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Tom scowled. God, that Martino mobster was an absolute sleazebag. He reminded him pretty much exactly of Mr. Impressive, but perhaps ever so slightly better than the Wings of Law member. At least Tom didn't have to work in the same organisation as Martino... but he would be pretending to for a little while, he supposed. Tom imagined that if Blake was here, watching the mobster hit on and flirt with a clearly uncomfortable Angie, then Martino might end up with a lot of pretty major burns over his body. And it definitely wasn't like Tom would blame Blake for that.

The other development was the sudden arrival of Grace. Tom knew her from previous encounters, but her appearance here was still unexpected... He knew that she was no longer affiliated with ICOSA or the group that she was with before, but he couldn't help but be a little suspicious. Maybe ICOSA had somehow put her up to this, to make her peer in on this undercover mission? But nobody else but Powers and them knew what was going on, so that didn't make sense. Unless ICOSA somehow had surveillance in the HERO One hall... But that was also a stupid idea... Unless...

Tom had allowed his mind to wander about various conspiracies, and only replying to Brie or Grace in the bar with nods and vague sayings of "Uh huh" or "Yup" that he had barely noticed Patricia and Angie leaving with Martino. Well, she hadn't managed to get them all going together. They'd have to deal with getting into the meeting later, Patty and Angie would surely vouch for them when they arrived. Tom just hoped that Martino didn't try and funny business in the car. Tom was just imagining Blake's face when he inevitably told him about what happened on their secret undercover mission here. He was certain that he was going to be on the receiving end of an angry face from Blake. Oh well.

Soon they were out of the casino. Tom peered around as they left to spot the poker dealer from earlier standing at the bar and looking pissed off that he was apparently now not being gifted the freedom of a break from dealing the game. Tom smirked a little - they had avoided an awkward confrontation by a couple of seconds at most. Soon they reached Brie's totally legitimately acquired vehicle, and Tom climbed into the back seat next to Grace, looking at Brie as she turned to them.

"Damn right I'm ready. Let's go, if we lose track of their car we're totally fucked."

@Danvers @Hitman
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by canaryrose
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canaryrose

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Jamie followed Blake into the reception area, coming in behind him in a similar, flashy style. When he kicked the door in, her fists were raised, goggles up. She did a crane kick at nothing, before realizing that they were just in some sort of seating area. There weren't hi-tech holograms or complex machines- there were chairs and a receptionist's desk, bland paintings hanging on the wall. Jamie frowned, disappointed. This wasn't Rumi's fancy lab. She had been expecting the Batcave, and instead, she got her dentist's waiting room. When she saw this, she sighed, slumping, her fierce fighting demeanor gone. She barely noticed Chris's approach, only looking at the man through the side of her eye. He looked boring. He called them 'Ms' and 'Mr', like a boring proper person. Why couldn't they just give the collar to Rumi and go smash... whatever needed smashing? Why did there have to be so many steps? This was boring her already.

While walking through the hallway after Chris and Blake, Jamie played with her hair. It was tied up in a neat ponytail, but branches and leaves from the forest stuck to it stubbornly. She picked at those, yanking them from her hair and dropping them to the ground without a care for the cleanliness of Rumi's office. As a result, various foliage now littered the once immaculate hallway. As well as multiple clumps of blond hair, too- those things had hurt like a bitch to pull out, and some of her hair had been ripped out. She rubbed at her scalp, wincing as they entered what looked like an office. A normal office. Jamie had to hold back a groan. This was still not the Batcave! Books were smart, yes, but...

Holy shit. Jamie's jaw dropped as the floor opened up. Now, this was more like what she had been expecting. She hopped to the side, out of the way of the moving floor as it revealed a staircase. Her attention grabbed by its throat, she followed Chris down the staircase, awestruck. This place was definitely the Batcave! There were machines, parts strewn about, projects sitting on the worktables. She poked and examined several things, not really understanding anything but still excited. Seeing Rumi, she waved enthusiastically and drifted closer to him.

"Hiiii, Rumi! Wow, your lab is so cool- it's like the freaking Batcave in here! Ooh, can I touch?" Jamie reached out her hand and shoved it in the hologram without waiting for an answer. She twisted around, trying to move the thing as he had just done, but not really getting the handle of it. Her hand moved the hologram like nothing was there. "That's hard. How do you even do that?"

@Hitman@Scarifar





Startling as Martino yelled and the cheering started, Patricia jumped in her seat, hands flying to her purse. However, she quickly placed them back onto the table and twisted around in her seat to face him. Jesus, that guy is loud, she thought, internally wincing as he bragged about his pitiful winnings. Although she had close to zero experience in poker, 17 dollars seemed like a low and oddly specific amount to win in a game. Wouldn't buy him anything great, that was for sure, but the people here seemed to be excited by that. They applauded him as though he had just won a million dollars, getting off their seats and cheering as he walked out. Or they were just cheering because he was powerful. That seemed to be a bit more likely. Wanting to seem like one of his adoring fans, Patricia clapped, too, smiling and waving.

She saw him make a beeline for her but was definitely not prepared when he swept her off her feet- literally. He yanked her off the bar seat roughly, snaking his arm around her waist and going a little too low for her liking. She had to suppress a shudder, instead grinning up at his sleazy, fat face and winking. This was a guy she wouldn't mind locking up in Coldwater for the rest of time, that was for sure. She locked eyes with Angie as he looked her over, too. Apparently, she hadn't needed an introduction, because within seconds Angelica was on his other side, and they were heading outside to his car.

Patricia stepped into the car reluctantly, every cautious bone in her body screaming for her to run. This went against literally every piece of advice her mother had ever told her, as she was currently getting into a car with a sleazy older man at a sleazy bar. But she did it anyways, plopping herself down onto the seat next to Angie. The car ride there was silent, peppered only with the occasional flirtatious remark from Martino and Angelica trying (and sort of succeeding) to act motherly. Patricia took deep, silent breaths, clenching and unclenching her fists.

She nodded to Angelica's comment before turning to look out the window at the mansion. It was impressive, to say the least. Opulent and humongous, guarded carefully. Nobody had ever been able to take the Guglianos down and their compound certainly showed it. At a glance, Patricia could see that armed goons patrolled the verdant grounds. As their car entered the gate, she closed her eyes again, taking a deep breath and leaning against the seat. You can do this, Patricia.

She exited the car after Angelica, draping herself over his other arm. She half-pretended to be in awe, her mouth opening and eyes widening. "Woh. You do well for yourself, don'tcha?" She giggled and nodded, tucking her hair behind her ears, and followed him inside.

@Amethyst@Hitman
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by DClassified
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DClassified Kung Fro Killa

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S A M S O N

Location
|| East Flank ||
Time
|| Evening ||


Samson had finally made it to the front doors of the apartment building, pulled out some keys and opened them to pass through the lobby. He walked down a hallway and at the end of it pushed a button to call for the elevator. His home for the past few months was a high rise apartment with prices even he could raise a brow at. Granted, H.E.R.O. made the landlord significantly lower their questionable prices for him to be able to stay there. Though, he still had to work for it to be able to maintain comfortable circumstances, it wasn’t like he was in a penthouse suite. That was along with proving his worth as a newly licensed hero.

Trying at a job as a zoo-keeper in this city was competitive. At this point he was just returning from an interview. They seemed to like his insight with regards to animals, and told him they’d consider it. In the meantime, he was looking more into producing for upcoming singers and rappers. Sam already did this for this man who called himself “Lil Yung Baby”, but his music wasn’t selling, no matter how much he promoted it.

With that said, tonight Kanati was going to be heading out on a mission. Word on the street was that the gang named the Wah Ching were getting tired of getting pushed around by the Koshiki Devils, and intended to do something about it. The chinese triad worked with the knockoff samurai in Brookside for quite some time.

He’d been hunting them long enough to pick up the basics. Apparently, one got to Castleburg first, but the other got to Brookside first. It was a turf war in the beginning that became an alliance in a system that worked against them both. Between the infamous Guglianos and HERO agents, their numbers were growing short. Which meant, they were getting desperate and bound to strike out.

Tonight was supposed to be a big trade between them, but something reeked of sabotage. It could get really messy, and Sam wasn’t exactly in the mood for dealing with a full on war between them. Too many people would be involved, and too many innocents would be threatened. That meant that he was going to have to get involved and stop the trade from going down. With his prey running out into the open, there was no reason to pass the easy arrests.

Thus, the elevator doors opened and Sam started out though he nearly bumped into a middle-aged woman.

"Oh, pardon me, Mr. Wernicke." A raspy, female voice apologized. The young man slightly smiled in recognition. This lady was named Maria Barker, one of his neighbors that he helped out from time to time. Her and her husband worked at a buffet that he frequented for American and Italian food options. They put their hearts into their craft...at the expense of their living arrangements, but they didn’t seem to mind much.

"It’s fine, Mrs. Barker."

“Are you okay?” She asked as they were trading places from the elevator.

His expression shifted to a light concern. "Yeah, why?"

The cistern-shaped woman combed a few fingers through her reddish hair and then extended them to keep the door open. "Apparently some thugs tried to rob the 7-Eleven on the other side of East Flank." Mrs. Barker explained.

Sam's head shook. He had taken notice of her statement as she was departing though. "Are you sure you want to be out with something like that happening?"

"Not really, but Calvin needs my help at the restaurant as the place is pretty packed today. Besides, the video showed some monster kid handling them." She replied. It was clear that the latter part was meant to be a joke, but on the flip side, also very serious. The young hero merely shrugged.

“Well, be careful out there.” Was his final admonition as the doors closed. That sounded bad, but the police were already in pursuit, and one of his coworkers likely the ‘monster’ that stepped in.

Curiosity would have prompted him to check out the scene. However with what he knew about, it seemed much more important and that’s where his priority would lie today. Such thoughts propelled him to hurry to his residence and zip through the living room to his bedroom. There, in the closet, was a large black trunk. Assumably it’d be for holding one’s very important items, but there was no lock on it. The young man simply lifted the latch on the front to open the top.

Inside the trunk were some varying clothes, money, a first aid kit, typical things one would keep for emergency situations. However, instead of touching any of those, he pulled out a crowbar. Promptly, he walked to the edge of his bed and placed one end of the crowbar to the bottom boxspring of it. Pulling it upward ajar, Sam pushed up the bed with his freehand, which reclined slowly as though on hinges, until it was flatly vertical against the wall.

Within the hollowed rectangular box was his uniform and tools attached.

So the hunt began...

Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Hitman
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Hitman Mori Quam Foedari

Member Seen 2 mos ago


Blake's entire reaction to the scene before him, in essence, was "woooooaaaaah. Cool." Blake had kind of known that Rumi was, like, a mega-genius and all that- he had seen his gizmos and gadgets out and about. But this was another level of cool. Secret bases? Hidden rooms? Cool underground labs? Check, check, and check. Unfortunately for him, HERO was not willing to fund an underground cave called the Firebird-Cave for him. Why did Rumi get one and he didn't? Now Blake was a bit jealous.

Regardless, Blake followed Rumi into his secret lair, complying with his request to give him the collar. He watched, curiously, as Rumi scanned the device and enlarged it holographically, examining individual sections. Jamie certainly seemed very interested in the whole process, watching and touching the holographic projections with childlike glee, but Blake was just a little more serious as he examined the process, looking for clues. He watched as one of the segments of the collar enlarged, showing a tracking beacon built into the device. He pointed. "Oooooh! Cool!" He smiled enthusiastically as the holographic machine thingywhatsit began pulling up details about the beacon.

The device would trace the beacon over to a location in Watervale, a large establishment there, called "Sam's Fish Market," a large dockside fish market, fishmonger, and fishing hotspot located in Eastern Watervale on a dockside. Those who were more familiar with the criminal elements of Castleburg would recognize Sam's Fish Market as a Gugliano hotspot for organized crime. Of course, Blake didn't know this, he just saw some neat pictures pop up on the screen along with some coordinates and an address pinning down the beacon's location into a warehouse right adjacent to Sam's Fish Market.

"Is that the place?” Blake asked as he gestured towards the address and coordinates that were pulled up on the hologram. "Are we gonna have to kick some dino ass? Also, what’s the deal with the dinosaur? Was it Google? Or was it the crime family? It had better be Google, that would be so freaking cool. And much more interesting, frankly.”

@canaryrose@Scarifar



"Let’s go,” Grace agreed as Brie zoomed after the Gugliano’s fancy, luxury vehicle in their totally legitimate, legally acquired rust bucket of a car that smelled like a mix between rotten eggs and booze. Brie’s assertion that they wouldn’t be noticed had, thankfully, been correct. The vehicle had not been noticed whatsoever by the mobster’s chariot as the two traveled through Brookside. Grace sighed as she looked at the destitute state of some of the Brookside buildings and people. She reminded herself to donate some money to charity when this mafia thing was all over. If it ended with her alive, at any rate.

Grace watched as the Gugliano’s Porsche entered the gates into a large, impressive villa, or really, more of a compound. While Grace couldn’t hear what was going on, she could definitely tell there was some type of password exchange going on there. "We need a password to get in, I bet. Any ideas?” she proposed to Tom and Brie.

The password was quickly relegated to the back of her mind as a black car with tinted windows pulled into the middle of the side road, blocking off Brie’s path. "Stop stop stop stop!” Grace exclaimed suddenly, hoping that Brie applied the brakes in time. The car roughly skidded to a stop as Grace grabbed onto her seatbelt tightly. "What the fuck…” Grace muttered as she unbuckled, watching as three individuals walked over to them. A tallish, slight man with dark hair, and two women, one a thin brunette, and one an Asian girl with cropped blonde hair. Interesting…

Grace began to formulate an idea as the three well-dressed mafiosos, in suits and shades, surrounded the vehicle like they were some sort of cop group. Grace looked over to Brie as the dark-haired woman leaned over to the driver’s side door. "These guys might be our ticket in,” Grace whispered, loud enough for both of them to hear but not loud enough for the outsiders to. "If you’re thinking on my wavelength, that is.”

@Danvers@KaijuBaragon


The young girl tilted her head at Will, giggling. "Aww, well that would be really fun, but I don’t want to do that, because if I did, I would have to capture you before you escaped, and I don’t want to hurt you. Yet," she said, gently patting his cheek. "You’re like a big blonde teddy bear! Though your eyes are a little thin. Definitely some Asian in there," the girl noted astutely. She tilted her head towards the door. "Well, it sounds like we have some guests. You stay put right here and I’ll have some guys take you out of here soon, OK?" She didn’t bother waiting for an answer before exiting the room, closing and locker the door behind her. What choice did he have anyway?

She walked out into the main corridor to see Martino Bernadino walk into the hallway, holding two girls by the waist. Kat frowned as he walked down the hall, looking at him with disapproval. She did not like Martino Bernadino. He had tried to hit on her when she was first tasked with working with the mafia group, and the poor, clueless girl had ended up in his bedroom and had run out, squealing, when she learned his ulterior motivations. She looked over at the Spectator on her shoulder. “Bellatrix, go away,” she whispered, and the creature wordlessly took off, fluttering down the hallway like a little pigeon, albeit a very demented, one-eyed, bat-looking Leftover pigeon.

Kat stepped up to the man, forcing on a smile as Martino sauntered down the hallway, ladies in tow. Kat cleared her throat, looking at him. "Mr. Bernadino. I see you brought some company!" She looked over at the two girls. "I didn’t know about this. I’m not sure if Mr. Gugliano knew about this either."

Martino laughed. ”Well, I was figuring these two ladies could accompany me back to my room after the meeting was over. Maybe you could care to join us? The more, the merrier.”

Kat did not like that answer, and her face showed it.

"I’m not so sure about that, Mr. Bernadino. These girls look…young." Her dark, crimson eyes scanned the two girls. One of them was not quite so young, probably a college girl, albeit a very pretty one, but the other girl was probably around her age, heavily dolled-up, and vaguely familiar-looking. Kat normally didn’t feel bad for people, but she felt bad. Just a little. Hopefully Daddy didn't find out.

”I’m sure it’s all fine,” Martin said. ”Come on, Katharine, I know you want in. Just say yes already.”

Kat stepped in, glowering at the man. She was a bit shorter than him, with her standing at about 5’5” and the older Mafioso clocking in at a few above 6’, but somehow the teenage girl was vastly more intimidating than the professional criminal could ever hope to be. "I think you should excuse yourself, Mr. Bernadino. Maybe head to the bathroom for a little while.” She lifted her arm, her fingertips glowing a burning crimson, and tapped the man on the nose. "Excuse yourself for a moment.”

Before Martino could even question what the hell this random girl was talking about, he gagged very loudly, audibly making a terrifying choking noise, as his hands left Angelica and Patricia’s waists as his arms instead retreated to guarding his stomach. He glared venomously at Kat (who, mind you, was smiling brightly), but his face had already turned a squeamish shade of green and instead of taking retribution, decided to take Kathy’s advice and scuttle off down the hallway to the nearest bathroom. The door slammed shut behind him, but even still the faint sounds of a man puking his guts out could be heard from the other end of the hallway.

Kat smiled with the two girls. "He’ll be back after he feels better. An hour or two.” She waved at them. "Well, I shouldn’t keep you from the meeting! Come with me.” She guided them down the hallway with a skipping gait, past the bathroom door, where the sounds of a man vomiting loudly could still be heard. As she musically walked down the hall, she spoke casually to the two girls. "You guys are assassins or something, right? I didn’t get hooker vibes or anything from you two, but you’re both dressed to the nines, so I’m thinking some sort of hero napper or something? Very cool,” she said, turning back to them as they reached a large set of oak doors. "Sorry about Mr. Bernadino. I hate him too. I think everybody does.” She read their expressions like an open book as she opened the doors, showing a half-filled conference table in a large space, with velvet carpets and a golden chandelier. Some of the seats were filled with some scary-looking mobsters, tats and rings and all manner of crazy expressions, though there were some that looked fancy and pristine, similar to how Angelica and Patricia were dressed. "You two take a seat. I’ll go fetch the guest of honor.” She turned back. "Oh, never mind! There he is!”

Will was being led down the hallway, still in handcuffs of course, by two bulky-looking guards. He was escorted into the boardroom at the intrigued looks of some of the mafiosos- one of them audibly muttered something about “Tempest, huh?”

Kat smiled. "Anyway, you two get comfortable. The meeting should start in a few. Mr. Gugliano was taking a call, but he’ll be back any second now, and then the meeting can get underway!”

@Infinite Cosmos@canaryrose@Amethyst

Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Shard
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Shard

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💀 Zee’s Apartment.

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💀 Evening.

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The fridge was comparable to a wasteland, not because Azhar’s salary was negligible, nor because he didn’t require food. He most certainly did. However, the boy was a worthless chef. At nineteen years of age, he was able to microwave dinner, or turn the knob on an oven, but when five solid minutes of dedication found itself mandatory in the production of a day’s meal, it was usually met by little more than a groan. A closer look would reveal more packets of blood in Azhar’s fridge, than actual food, a sight Dracula, the monster cat, was quick to engage. "Don’t rip it open!" The mutant exclaimed, swiping the packet before closing the door with a soft clang of soda bottles erupting from the contact. "Come, you fucking blood thirsty fiend..," Azhar managed a quiet sigh, his obsidian orbs turning towards the four-eyed cat eagerly leaping towards its bowl.

It was unclear whether the experiments conducted on Dracula had raised the feline’s intellect, but the time spent with this creature surely indicated that development. Dracula appeared to not only understand what Azhar was saying, but also acted in ways considered uncommon, or rather unnatural for a house cat. The mutant often uttered an explanation in jest, claiming that his cat was spliced with a dog, which a single deduction could easily dispel. Something had been done to the creature, and calling Dracula a cat, still, was perhaps more out of the ordinary than the creature he had become. Even so, Azhar found a certain irony in considering the creature little more than a house cat.

Tearing open the blood packet, Azhar poured its contents into a bowl portraying its purpose through the paw print displayed upon its shape. The vampiric feline scarcely waited before its barbed, red tongue went to work on lapping up all that Vitamin D. With a stretch, Azhar yawned, his own cherished drink brought to his lips for a long, grateful sip. It was no Java Monster Energy, but it worked. A less desirable outcome, but one the deathly creature could very much enjoy when abandoning thoughts of a lost prize.

Azhar’s apartment was a small spectacle, little more than a square offering the necessities of a bed, computer desk, kitchen, and bathroom. When every aspect except the very last were built together into a single room, one could not complain about effectiveness. Every inch had been used, and not a section forgotten. With another sip, Azhar dropped to his computer chair and opened the program Discord which he had used to speak with his parents three times per week. It was his mother who mainly dedicated time to the exchange, where Azhar’s father often found himself busy. It was quite fair, however. Azhar never considered himself close with his male parent, and rather enjoyed conversing with Ayla, instead. A woman who had been present throughout his life.

Shifting his gaze towards a digital clock, Azhar opened the program before being nearly attacked by the sound of a ringing phone. She had been waiting for him. “Habibi!” The woman’s voice trickled through Azhar’s laptop, “kifak, ya’ ibne’?”

"I’m alright, mom," Azhar took a swig of his drink, seeing his mother’s expression shifting on the screen. Their video conversations left little to be hidden.

“Baa’dak ab’ tishrab.., what do you call them..,” she shifted to English, the woman’s thick Arabic accent draping every word, “Ennerjee’ Drinks?”

"Don’t worry mom, they won’t kill me," came a response from the younger hero, before seeing his mother’s head shaking in disapproval. He had been told, throughout his life, to avoid junk food. Going to America did not help in that endeavour, but at the very least, food had little effect on Azhar. Good and bad.

Eventually displaying a grin, the woman relieved a heavy sigh, “how is Amerrika’?” The boy’s mother leaned back in her seat. “Is it still mabrook?”

"Still beautiful, yes," Zee echoed his parent’s expression, his sharp teeth coming into view. Their conversation continued, one pleasantry following the other as an hour proceeded to pass. Azhar told his mother of the robbery he had managed to stop, but left out the most critical part. His drink didn’t survive the ordeal, a loss he couldn’t possibly impart.

“So have you found someone, yet?” A question slinked through the laptop, along with a playful wink from Alya.

For a moment, Zee’s cheeks darkened, and the young man turned his attention elsewhere, "you know I don’t have time for that, mom."

“Oh, is that it?” She chuckled, before affording her son a grin, “or are there just not enough.., mahdoomeen.., uh.., cute guys in America?”

"I mean, some of them are cu-.., WHAT!?" The exclamation was born through shock. It wasn’t what had been asked that nearly caused Azhar to fall off his chair, but rather, who had asked the question.

“Oh, look at the time, I have to go, habibi!” Alya playfully sent a kiss through the camera before ending the call, leaving her son staring blankly at the screen. As far as he knew, his parents were left in the dark. They wouldn’t understand, he told himself. Indeed, he had told ’himself.’ Perhaps he hadn’t given his mother enough credit.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Danvers
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Danvers boo

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Brie happily hummed a random tune whilst they drove through Brookside, seemingly unconcerned that they were following a scumbag mafioso to a criminal infested mansion. It didn't take long before they crossed the turnpike into Watervale and cautiously followed behind the Porsche until, finally, the Gugliano compound came into view. Her focus on finding somewhere to stop, she barely had time to slam on her brakes when the black car swerved into the road, completely, and rudely, blocking her path. "Asshole!" Brie yelled as she was jolted sharply forwards. If any of them had chosen to omit wearing a seatbelt, they likely would have been flung straight out of the window.

"...if you’re thinking on my wavelength, that is.”

Brie had been mere moments away from flipping them off but when Grace spoke up, she nodded enthusiastically. "If you're thinking that we knock them out and steal their shit. I mean...take their clothes and IDs so that we can get into the mansion...then sure, sounds like a plan!" Brie whispered back keenly, "I'll take out this one," She indicated with her head to the mobster who was strolling over to her side of the car. "If you guys can get the other two." Without waiting for an answer, Brianna pressed the button to open the driver's side window, using her powers to reduce the electricity so that it lowered at a comedically slow pace. It was a completely unnecessary gesture but she couldn't resist pissing them off just a little. Smiling at the woman throughout this, Brie tilted her head when the window was finally fully open.

"Can I help you?" She said bluntly, her eyes quickly flitting up & down as she checked for any signs of a weapon. The woman, who looked severely irritated by this point, had barely opened her mouth to respond when Brie lunged half her body through the gap. "Y'know, you really should watch where you're driving." She chided, smiling as she suddenly grabbed onto the woman's wrist.

The instant they made skin-to-skin contact, she sent a volt of electricity charging through the mobster's body. Holding on as her limbs began to spasm, Bries grip didn't ease off until finally, the woman lost consciousness and her body slumped to the ground. "Urgh, so heavy..." She moaned as she was nearly dragged head-first out of the window, letting go just in time to be able to hoist herself back into the car.

A moment later, Brie had opened the door (which accidentally hit the poor woman in the head) and hopped out onto the unpaved road, taking a few seconds to peer down at the mobster. "Still breathing!" She eventually chimed. Although she could usually judge the voltage of the shock well enough not to cause a straight out heart attack, sometimes their breathing did go a little bit funny. Content with her likely incorrect assumption of the woman's medical state, Brie glanced towards the mansion, deciding that she should at least make a half-hearted attempt to not be seen. Grabbing onto one of the womans arms, she eventually, and with some difficulty, managed to drag her body so that it was hidden snugly between the two vehicles. "So! We just swipe their stuff and then head to the entrance?" Brie looked towards the others as she crouched down next to the mafioso, swiping her sunglasses before beginning to root through the rest of her pockets.

@hitman @kaijubaragon

Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Scarifar
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Scarifar Presto~!

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Rumi Bers Polamor

@Hitman@canaryrose


"Please don't," Rumi said, though clearly his words fell on deaf ears. Sighing, Rumi added, "You can't move them, Jamie." Jamie tried to move the holograms, to no effect. Her hand simply passed through it, blurring the images. "You don't have the biometric authentication to access my equipment. Now please, let me do my work here." After shooing away Jamie's hand, Rumi continued to search through the collar, sorting his way through the various functions and safety measures within it until he came across a tracking beacon within in.

"Oooo, now what do we have here?" Rumi muttered his thoughts out loud, expanding the hologram of the beacon. If the collar was truly attached to an Iguanosaur, it made sense that people would want to keep track of its location. The only question was: who were those people? "Track the beacon's signal," Rumi commanded, the hologram now displaying a pulsing signal icon next to the beacon, directed toward a map of the world. It didn't take long to get a lock on a location, and the map magnified further and further until it pinpointed a location: Watervale. "Bring up 3D imaging of the location," Rumi commanded again, the table displaying a blue-tinted 3d map of Watervale. A red light indicated the building the beacon was sending the signal to. Rumi spread his hands to magnify and pinpoint the exact location, revealing a warehouse next to a place called "Sam's Fish Market."

It didn't make sense. A fish market capturing Leftovers for whatever insidious practices? Rumi was sure it was merely a cover for some other group. "It's not Google, that much is for sure," Rumi answered Blake. Rumi gave it a second of thought, and it clicked: "GUGL", or in other words, the Guglianos. "The Gugliano family, though, makes more sense. It would also explain the 'GUGL' found on this collar," Rumi said. Sighing, he continued, "So we have a crime family now trying to handle Leftovers. They're either not doing it very well, considering you dispatched the Iguanosaur so easily, or it was only a test for more vile purposes. My main concern is where they're getting this tech from. I don't recall the Gugliano family being able to produce this level of tech."
Hidden 5 yrs ago → 5 yrs ago Post by canaryrose
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Patricia had read the files that Brie had shoved at them over and over again. The four of them had been in that apartment for hours, and she had definitely gotten something out of those hours. The files... weren't thrilling. They were mostly about Vinnie Gugliano and his 'family', their crimes, their operations. It was a thick file- she had skipped over most of it. The finances, the rambling tapped phone conversations... those she had skipped over. Most of it was boring stuff, something normal, almost expected for a mobster in the age of heroes. But one thing in those files stood out in stark relief from everything else: Vinnie is believed to be working with a teenage girl with black hair and red eyes. This girl is dangerous. Do not get close to her. She will kill you. It was a short line, not much information given. It had stood out among the blocks of text, numbers, and data to be ominous, intriguing yet terrifying all at the same time. Patricia had intended to heed the warning, no matter how little information she had been given.

But now she was standing in front of that dark-haired, red-eyed girl. The teenage girl who would kill her if given the chance. Her heart beat in her ears like a symphony, drowning out all other sounds. It thrummed in her chest, wild and panicked, begging her to get out of here. The temptation to run gripped her in its claws like a mad, howling beast. She almost told Martino that she had forgotten her purse in the car, or something inane like that, just to get them away from the girl. But, no. She was a hero. She shouldn't have to remind herself of that, but she was. She was on a mission. This was her job. After that brief look of fear, Patricia schooled her face into something resembling boredom. She examined her purple nails, entirely absorbed in them while Martino and the girl had their little conversation.

But her head flew right back up when the girl (what did he say her name was? Katharine?) used her powers on Martino. His sudden sickness was prefaced with a red, malevolent glow, and then he suddenly abandoned his ladies (ugh, she hated this guy so much), and ran off to the bathroom, face green and vomit rising. That was... well. Patricia felt a rush of vengefulness at this, and, against her will, a wicked smile crossed her face. She, of course, quickly tamped it down and flashed Katharine an uneasy yet grateful smile. Maybe this girl wasn't so bad. Her power was... certainly terrifying, that was for sure. Her tone and demeanor were off, to say the least. She seemed cutesy in a very unsettling way. But maybe she wasn't... immediately going to kill them. At least, not while she didn't know they were heroes.

Patricia followed Katharine down the hallway with Angie, now attentively listening to what she said. It seemed she wouldn't be expected to play the part of vacant pretty girl anymore. Assassins sounded much cooler to play than hookers. Both were morally incorrect professions, of course, but one made her much more uncomfortable than the other. Hooker would require that she actually do the deed and have the person live to see the end of it. Nobody needed to see an assassin's work. Now abandoning her vacant persona, Patricia halfway zipped up her fur ruff jacket on their walk to the board room, covering her chest.

Once they got there, Patricia marveled for a second, taking in the opulent boardroom. It seemed more like a show of the Guglianos' wealth than anything- something that screamed we have way more money than you! But it was cool all the same. The people occupying it were interesting, as well. Certainly a strange sort. There were people dressed like her and Angelica, yes, but there were certainly a higher number of tattooed, muscled, scarred mafiosos and gangsters. She avoided their gazes, instead idly looking about, tapping her heel on the ground.

She nodded gratefully to Katharine, mouth quirking into a thin smile. "Of course. Thank you for showing us in. We're... grateful for the chance to be a part of this," Patricia said, trying her best impression of a hired killer. She then turned from Katharine and scanned the boardroom for a good seat.

She was almost confident that everything would go smoothly before she saw Will. Oh. FUCK! Her mouth dropped in horror- although she tried to pull it off as impression- and she clenched her hands into fists. This could not have gone worse. Brie's boyfriend?! Her actual fucking boyfriend. Oh, God. They were going to die. Patricia tried her best not to let any of this sudden panic show on her face, instead giving Will (who definitely recognized her) a very intense stare. She would've gone for the bathroom right then and there to text and warn Brie, but the door was blocked, and mafia goons stood at every corner. One would definitely read her text message. Her only real hope was that Brie wouldn't be impulsive and blow up, which was a very slim chance. Patricia raised a brow, pretending to be impressed.

So, instead of texting Brie about her boyfriend being kidnapped by the mafia, Patricia grabbed Angelica's arm and headed over to a duo of seats. Neither seat had a person occupying the one next to it, so it was almost perfect for an urgent, hushed conversation. Patricia plopped herself into the seat, heart now pounding even faster than before, and pulled Angelicainto the one next to her.

She leaned in to whisper in Angelica's ear, one hand held up to block her lips from the rest of the room. She kept one eye on Will. "We need a plan for when she comes in because she's gonna flip. I know this isn't ideal, but... what do we do?"

@Hitman@Infinite Cosmos@Amethyst

Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Hitman
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Hitman Mori Quam Foedari

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Blake nodded along as Rumi explained the situation. Alright, so there's some Gugliano guys controlling Leftovers. And they're controlling it from a warehouse at a fish market." Blake thought hard. "Seems kinda weird. I didn't know the mafia needed to control dinosaur lizard monsters. I mean, they are pretty cool and all that, but it does seem kinda weird. Are you sure it's not Google?"

Blake chuckled a little at his Google joke. "Anyway, I guess the only way we can find out is to investigate ourselves. Good ol' fashioned investigation work." He turned towards Jamie. "Why don't you get the car started and stuff so we can get ready to go? And set set your GPS up too. Sam's Fish Market." He turned back towards Rumi. "Uhh, are you busy right now? We could use a little help. I dunno how tracking beacons and shit work, and your tools and stuff might be helpful in case there's criminals or something. Or more Iguanosaurs. Or actual, real, mafia mobster people!" Blake smiled giddily. "This is so cool. A real-life mafia mission! We're, like, gonna go infiltrate their warehouse and find out what they're doing! I can't wait to tell Angie about this. She's going to be so jealous."

@canaryrose@Scarifar



Grace gave a nod as Brie explained the plan, or the quasi-plan, or at least the run-down: knock a guard out, take their ID and clothes and stuff, and move on. It was certainly a convenient plan given the natures of these three mafiosos, but Grace wasn't one to look down on good fortune. As she had predicted, there was always a way in. "Sounds good," Grace said in agreement as she looked at her target. Some Asian girl, short blonde hair, wearing a fedora with a blazer and pantsuit. As Brie comically goaded the first mafioso, Grace watched keenly, suppressing a grin. The girl was funny, Grace certainly had to give her that.

As Brie reached out of the car and spontaneously electrocuted the girl, Grace sprung into action, opening her back door directly into the Asian mafioso. As the girl fell back (wearing heels today was a bad choice for her), Grace rotated one arm back, violet energy swirling in her palm as she did so. Just as the Asian girl found her bearings again, Grace flicked her arm forwards, the swirling hurricane of energy having compressed into a disc just larger than a frisbee. The disc arced through the air, smacking the Asian mafioso directly in the forehead and knocking her out. The disc whirled back to Grace like a boomerang, but Grace didn't need it anymore, and so the discus fizzled into nothingness before it fully returned. Grace walked over to the downed mafioso, rummaging through her pockets and removing her wallet. "Let's see...my name is...Emily Liu. I can roll with that," Grace said, taking the ID and stuffing it into her own wallet. "Dunno why Emily is working with a bunch of Italian mobsters, but more power to her." Grace also snagged Emily's hat, tucking it under her elbow as she pulled her long, violet hair back. She quickly snagged a band out from a portal (thankfully, she knew where her luggage was, at least) and tied her hair into a tight, messy bun atop her head. She then slotted the fedora on top over it. Perfect.

"Alright, we have a meeting to get to." Grace paused. "You want me to get rid of these guys? I think I know a good place to dump them." Grace closed her eyes, envisioning the Chick-Fil-A bathroom she had been in several months earlier. "It'll be a place they never expect, for sure."

@Danvers@KaijuBaragon

Hidden 5 yrs ago → 5 yrs ago Post by taylorquest
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Vivien hadn't been back to her apartment in over 48 hours. She looked ragged, sitting in her desk chair overlooking the piles of papers on her desk.

She had begged Powers to let her accompany him to meet with ICOSA. This was the kind of thing she excelled at. He insisted she needed to stay back. According to him, her skills - superhuman or otherwise - were more valuable at home right now. Despite how much she disagreed with him she didn't put up a fight.

Instead she did what she does best. She worked. She prepared a file for Powers as he left that she hoped would help with the diplomatic process. She gave it to him shortly after the big meeting. He gave her a debriefing about things to be aware of while he was gone. Brie was leading the Gugliano mission, apparently. Vivien was surprised at his decision, but respected him enough not to press him further.

After that she had spent the rest of her time looking into every time H.E.R.O. had bumped heads with ICOSA, to see if she could glean some insight into how to make our relationship with them easier. Nothing clicked though. Which was a rare and frustrating thing for Vivien.

She pushed her glasses onto her head and rubbed her eyes. "Maybe if I take a break, grab something to eat, get some sleep, and look at this with fresh eyes..." She mused aloud letting her sentence drift into the air becoming immediately laser focused on getting something to eat.

She pulled open one of her desk drawers and grabbed a small moleskin notebook. She kept an extensive list of restaurants in the city that she wanted to try and crossed them off one by one. She flipped through to a random page and pointed:

Ristorante de Luce

It was a family style Italian place in East Flank. She grabbed her coat and combed through her hair with her hands in an attempt to look somewhat decent. Then she grabbed her keys, locked the office, and made her way to her car.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Scarifar
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Scarifar Presto~!

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Rumi Bers Polamor

@Hitman@canaryrose


"Well, I could always give some of my gadgets a little extra field testing," Rumi responded, then proceeded to raise a finger in the air and add, "Just give me a minute." Rumi clapped his hands twice, then a panel slid out from the wall and turned itself around, revealing Rumi's bodysuit armor that served as his costume, as well as utility belt and four canisters that held his nanomachines. Rumi then walked over to his suit and held his arms up in a T, issuing another command, "Armor up." Instantly, robotic arms extended from the wall, ceiling, and floor, programmed to get the suit onto Rumi. One arm began to glow red and hum gently at its tip as it dragged its head along the middle of the suit from neck to groin, effectively cutting it in half. The rest of the arms grabbed both pieces of the suit and slipped them onto Rumi, fitting them and holding them properly while the arm that originally cut it began to glow green instead and ran its head at the cut line, repairing the suit as if it had never been cut in the first place.

After the arms retracted themselves back into their original places, Rumi began to stretch a little, fully breaking in the suit and making sure it was comfortable. He grabbed his belt and canisters and equipped them as well. Finally, Rumi looked through his tables and shelves, methodically searching through them for tools and gadgets that would aim him in this mission. It took a few minutes, but Rumi was finally ready.

"Alrighty then, let's get going," Rumi said.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by KaijuBaragon
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KaijuBaragon Victoria Concordia Crescit

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Tom tapped his finger absentmindedly on the window of the car as the trio thundered after the mobster's car, passing the streets of Brookside as he went. As aforementioned, Tom hadn't spent much time in Brookside at all outside of a couple of missions, and as the car went past the run-down looking buildings and shady looking people standing on street corners, he gained a newfound respect for Brie for having grown up in a place like this and come out as a decent person. While Tom's early life had undergone it's difficulties, he was certainly lucky for being born into a moderate amount of wealth and privilege.

Tom had once again become so deep in thought that he had stopped paying attention, and when the car stopped he jumped a little, then again as he realised that they were suddenly at the Gugliano compound, without really having discussed what exactly they were going to do to get inside. They hadn't even discussed what fake names they were going to use... and they hadn't stopped to buy fake moustaches! Tom watched anxiously as he spotted the three mafiosos talking, and then as one approached the car. Tom was about to say something himself, but then he heard Grace whisper, and he clocked what they were going to have to do to get into the compound. The excitement built - taking out three mobsters in front of their own building was risky, but the risk was all the fun.

The next parts happened pretty fast. Brie shocked the first girl, who slumped backwards, before Grace whipped the car door open and stepped out herself. The male mobster obviously caught note of this, and began to walk over to the car, so Tom quickly opened the car window and flipped the flow of gravity sideways, so the mobster fell into the car window. Tom then made him fall upwards, where his head hit the ceiling of the car with a loud thunk, leaving a dent in the roof, before the man fell back onto the seat, unconscious. Pretty quick and pretty easy. Tom opened the car door and carefully pushed the man out, before getting out himself and beginning to rummage through the man's pockets.

He found a pair of expensive looking sunglasses, which he immediately put on, then the man's wallet. "Alright, so I'm gonna be..." Tom narrowed his eyes as he looked at the name in front of him. "I'm gonna Mario Palermo. Yeah, that's a decent name, I can live with that." He pocketed the wallet before dragging the man over to the other unconscious mobsters, standing up fully and turning to Grace.

"Yeah, get rid of them, fast. Let's just hope the meeting hasn't got too far in already."

@Danvers @Hitman
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Shard
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Shard

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Location
💀 Zee’s Apartment.
💀 Ristorante de Luce.

Time
💀 Evening.

Interactions
💀 None.


With that blank, prolonged stare which had, at this point, bored a hole through Azhar’s computer, the pale-skinned mutant inhaled a sharp breath. He did not expect a conversation with his mother to net an ending like that. She had always been a rather playful individual, and it was quite obvious where Azhar’s personality had found itself inspired. However, claiming acceptance and understanding from his home country had been a laborious task. Whereas the first fifteen years of his life warranted the nickname Devil from more than a single source, Azhar wasn’t going to add further scandals onto an already fragile image.

It was quite a shift, he was willing to admit, when stepping onto American soil. The Devil had been translated into Requiem, a hero that while unknown, seemed somewhat popular amongst the less socially inclined. When seeing an image ripped from his likeness presented on a t-shirt in Hot Topic, Zee recalled merely laughing at the find. There was no anger expressed from the monstrous young man, and nor was there fear aimed towards him. It was endearing. Plagiarism, but endearing. In fact, he bought the t-shirt, and earned an odd look in the process, one met by a sharp-toothed grin.

Indeed, things had changed. Though he found himself in America, the land of opportunity as they said, it would be a lie to claim that Azhar’s mind had followed long. The same fears remained, whether it was based around his powers, appearance, or sexuality. ’Own your shit,’ a tagline the young hero lived by, and one he often dismissed when met by adversity. It would soon be replaced by ’You are a fucking joke,’ before circling back to the previous, once Azhar had managed to douse his insecurities in Energy Drinks, soda, and candy.

Clenching his teeth, Azhar reached for the mouse at his side. Claws did not work well with a pad, it would appear. Opening the emoji window in Discord, he hovered the cursor over a heart symbol, silently staring at it. "Own your shit..," he sighed, those black eyes closing as thoughts began to circle his mind. There was a noticeable tension which washed over him, the boy’s clawed hand gripping the mouse in desperation before eventually managing a breath. "Ya’ ibn el sharmoota," came an Arabic utterance, something which quite literally translated into ‘Son of a bitch’. Accompanying the small, barely visible smirk displayed upon his pale lips, Azar closed the emoji window.
’Thanks, mom,’ the boy wrote, followed by that symbol which had been nagging him ever since opening the small pop-up square where a red heart intently stared back into those abyssal orbs. He pressed Enter.

Inhaling a long, deep breath, Azhar closed the laptop screen, his eyes shifting towards Dracula who had been lazily stretching out across the ghostly creature’s bed. Though a desire to lay down and delve into a world of dreams appeared nearly intoxicating, the rumbling in Azhar’s scrawny belly begged to differ. The mutant wasn’t good at taking care of himself. This much even the cat could attest to. Some days, he ate like a glutton, while hours could pass of another without the young hero even considering a meal. Least of all a healthy one. Though, yet again, Azhar would insist that all food was merely energy, to him. Good or bad, his powers treated it all the same, abandoning discrimination. While appearing like an excuse, it was, in fact, the truth. Azhar could eat another human being raw if the situation demanded, and it may as well have been a burger. Though, that thought was quickly discarded in disgust.

Yes, the mutant truly was a monster. Though, as he often told himself, a monster was nothing inherently bad. It all amounted to what a freak like him decided to do with their abilities. A single look towards his closet would reveal a black, ominous outfit used during missions, with a skull mask obfuscating his face. It was a statement, loud and clear. A statement which assessed that heroism didn’t wear a specific cape, and that good was born from actions, not the shell exacting them.

"Alright, screw this," Zee stood, his slender arms stretching above his head as the boy groaned. "Don’t destroy the place, Dracula," Azhar pointed a claw at the cat where it lazily splayed out, that monstrous feline a perfect reflection of its owner. "Or God help me, ba’mellak schelektak," the Arabian mutant smirked.

Slipping into a jacket to prevent a growing nip in the air from chilling his tender skin, Azhar pushed the door open, careful not to slam it on his tail again, before affording his beloved feline friend a quick farewell. Ristorante de Luce, it was close by, and the dark hero had frequented the establishment on several occasions. When a decent salary was accompanied by a cheap apartment and barely any bills, a lazy young man like Azhar could afford to eat out far more often than he should. It was what brought him down the side-walk, hands gently resting within his pockets as he proceeded across the stretch of an evening path.

Ristorante de Luce, a mere ten-minute walk from where Azhar called home, displayed its proud presence with a title expanded over the door. Pushing it open, Zee stepped inside, claws running through his black, messy hair before noting a waiter approaching him.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by taylorquest
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taylorquest

Member Seen 4 yrs ago


Ristorante de Luce. Literally "Resturant of Light." An apt name considering the aura of warmth she felt upon entering. It was like walking into the set of a family sitcom. Behind the counter was a young man, who was probably related to the owners. The lighting was a startling orange hue, though it wasn't ostentatious enough to be annoying. However, it was probably a bad place to take selfies. All the better as it kept out the one dimensional Instagram types. Even if this place got great reviews, she would be shocked to find an influencer of any renown here.

She was only slightly less shocked to see a familiar figure with a thin frame and dark aura hanging about him. Vivien sat down next to him. She hadn't really ever talked to Zee. In fact, she couldn't remember seeing him talk with anyone. In every memory she could conjure of the boy he was always walking with his head hung down, or training on his own, or slouched in the corner during a meeting with a headphone in. She thought she saw him look at her but it was hard to tell the way his eyes were.

"Zee, Party of One." The boy behind the counter called. Vivien remembered that she forgot to check in.

She caught Zee's arm "May I join you?"
Hidden 5 yrs ago → 5 yrs ago Post by Shard
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Avatar of Shard

Shard

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Location
💀 Ristorante de Luce.

Time
💀 Evening.

Interactions
💀 @taylorquest


An unexpected development, but certainly not unwelcomed. Azhar’s black eyes turned towards a co-worker he had witnessed, though never quite interacted with. He did, however, recall her name, if the boy wasn’t mistaken. "Doctor..," Zee began, a smile bridging its way across his pale lips as he spoke. Though a brief moment passed before completing the handle, Azhar’s expression remained. Whatever reputation he may have shouldered at H.E.R.O, an interaction could very well dispel misconceptions. "Valis," the late-teen finished, before motioning towards his waiter. It was a clear indicator that this woman was going to accompany the young hero, which was evident following their guided path towards a table.

A pleasant restaurant by any measure, Azhar leaned back in his seat, the boy’s abyssal gaze lowering to a menu which he had been presented. In truth, the nineteen-year-old much preferred the company of those older than himself. Perhaps it was an expected disposition, as he stood on the cusp of being a man. Less than a year remained until he finally turned twenty. It was no wonder then that others within the bracket of ‘teenager’ may have had a tendency of being branded somewhat obnoxious. It was simply the way of things.

One could also indicate that Azhar was forced to mature rather quickly, his state of mind the product of a less than accepting world. Of course, it would be foolish to state that everyone older than Azhar, or ‘Requiem’ in the public eye, maintained any level of respectable behavior by virtue of their age. While entertaining and most certainly delightful company, a certain Hero by the name of Blake, or more appropriately ‘Firebird’ was known for his less than wise and collected take on conversations. At least he had a pretty face.

"It’s nice to meet you in a less..," Azhar raised a claw, motioning towards the restaurant’s welcoming interior, "professional setting," came a playful grin, Zee’s shark-like teeth making themselves known. It was quite easy to melt into the soothing music trickling into serene air from background speakers, a blanket that laid itself across an already blissful scene. "I sometimes tune out at HERO One," a spiked, slender black digit came to gently tap Azhar’s temple following his accented words, the boy’s Middle Eastern heritage clearly identified. "Though, Powers have ordered me to be more social," Zee chuckled, his spectral, ethereal voice earning itself attention as an aberrant addition to the restaurant patronage. "And sadly, he refuses to go clubbing with me," the mutant exhaled a theatrical sigh. "A Spice Girls sing-along would help in loosening him up, you know?"
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