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Mixtape Ghost N SOMETIMES EVЕN RICH NIGGAS GET LOST

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Previously, on Verthaven...



Sunday, June 30th. 4:30 PM.

TVs across Verthaven showed a woman in a dark-purple pinstriped suit, standing in front of a bridge that lead into the Downtown Neighborhood - closed off by Police Officers, there was a police blocker, and two policemen standing at attention in front of it - holding a microphone.

"Hello, everybody, this is Molly Schuler with the news. It's one day after the very daunting assault on the Summer Festival, perpetrated by the gang known as the Fiends. A massive firefight took place between the Fiends, the VPD, and NEST as the the latter-two were attempting to restore order. The Fiends retreated, but not before causing damage that the City has to repair. And as a result, the downtown district has been completely locked down.." Clips went by of city-workers cleaning up the damage done to the district. "Reports say that fifty people dead, and hundreds more were injured - some critically - in the attack. As a result, NEST, and VPD efforts have been increased up to put an end to the Fiends, and bring the ones responsible for this attack to justice. The National Guard has been deployed to Verthaven in order to assist in their efforts. Launching Raids against known Fiend hangouts. So far, Raids have been going well, and dozens of Fiends have been arrested, while recovering millions of dollars worth of drugs owned by the Fiends." Videos of Military trucks rolling into the city limits were shown.

"The VPD Police Commissioner has advised everyone to report any and all suspected sighting of the Fiends, but do not approach or engage. They are extremely irrational and dangerous."

Molly dramatically paused for a moment, facing the camera with a neutral expression on her face. "However, that isn't the only news to report today. An Intelligence System Design lab in University Row has been found to be completely desolate. Every scientist has gone missing, every computer has been wiped clean, and several sections of the lab were destroyed entirely. All without a trace or hint as to what happened, or who's behind it. Going off scheduled shifts, every Scientist working was clocked in during the attack on the Summer Festival. It's been deduced that it's very unlikely that the Fiends are behind this. It has also been reported that at least ten other people were kidnapped during the Fiend's attack on the Festival. NEST Reports that each of the people gone missing are Metahumans. Everyone is asking... Are these events related? Now to Mike, with the weather."




Jennifer Caspin & Meifeng Vuhong
@ToadRopes




The Crystal Shores, The Isabella Isle.

"Ahhhh... that was a lot of fun, wasn't it?" Meifeng said, holding a volleyball over her head, and looking at her fine group of ladies - comprised of herself, Jen, and Ratchet. They just got done playing an intense match of volleyball - so intense that the. Turned out that Meifeng wasn't as good at volleyball as she is at basketball. Whatever, she still thrashed her two friends - and that felt great. Maybe next time they'll remember they don't have a chance with her. Sweat dripped down her head, and the sun almost made her forget about her mom. Yeah, yeah. Nothing but good times from here on in. She looked around, and saw beaches for miles! She ignored the NEST tower looming overhead for... obvious reasons. Yet, the people playing, beautiful people, and ocean as far as she could see really filled her with excitement. She wanted to do something, she wanted to head out, and sin a little. Nobody would mind, really. Meifeng was wearing her basketball team uniform, red basketball pants, and a rather tight jersey - with a matching red two-piece bikini underneath.

Jennifer knelt over, and panting, she wiped some of the sweat off her forehead. "Yeah... summer, eh?" She said to Meifeng. It was hot, and Jennifer wanted to sit down for a second, and be alone. Sports wasn't really her thing. They were something her parents forced her into so she wouldn't be fat and a shut in. And nobody wants that. Jennifer thought to herself, as she rolled her eyes up into her head. It was about time that she stood up - though, she quickly looked down and saw that her outfit - Jean-shorts, and combat boots, and an N7 T-shirt (Mass Effect merchandise she got from Amazon), and underneath it was a cyan blue two-piece bikini- was covered in sand. From where is obvious.

Meifeng quickly walked over to her bag, which was slid up against the volleyball net, she unzipped it, and dropped her ball inside. She grabbed the strap, and heaved it over her shoulder. That was fun, but Meifeng wants more. She kinda wished she was there yesterday, fighting against the Fiends - but Lihua didn't want to take her. Eh. She'll have her second chance later. For now, just enjoy the Crystal Shores. "So, girls, what do you want to do next? The Crystal Shores are full of opportunity, heh."

This was her opportunity to get some alone time, and... maybe something to drink. "Dunno, how about I grab us something to drink?" Jennifer asked.

"Oooooh, you know me, Jen."

"Water? Okay." Jen chirped as she started jogging off to the side (Let's just assume that Ratchet said what she wanted). Now, where's a vending machine...? Jen thought to herself as she finally stepped off the beach, and started walking on the beach front - lined with stores and other locations. People were basically faceless to her - and vice versa - as she waded through the crowds of beach goers. Jennifer eventually saw a vending machine, in between two stores. In an alleyway, basically. Normally, Jen would stay away, but it's only for a second. She walked up to the blue Pepsi vending machine, and dug into her pockets to pull out a few dollars. She got herself a soda, Meifeng water, and Ratchet [INSERT DRINK HERE]. She heard them drop into the slot, and Jennifer bent over for a second to grab them.

"... Hey baby, nice ass!" A group of teenage boys shouted at Jen, which made her immediately blush, and stand straight up.

My ass isn't that big.... Jen thought to herself, and she quickly reached down and grabbed her drinks, and had no other objective in mind other than getting the hell out of here. The pitter patter of small steps behind her made her stop, and slowly look behind her. Just out of curiosity.

... A Yorkshire terrier stepped from around the corner, and stood in the middle of the alleyway. Looking at her. One with a pink collar - just like her own dog.

"... Pudding?" Jen asked, out loud. Okay, she knew that it seemed a little far fetched that her dog would end up two districts away - but, she also knew how crazy this city can be at times. So it isn't that far-fetched. "Pudding, is that you?" Jennifer turned towards the dog, and began taking slow steps towards it, putting out her hand. "C'mere Pudding." She whistled, trying to call the dog, while getting closer. Jennifer was quickly in grabbing range, and the very second she put her hand on the dog - it started ferociously growling, and quickly took a bite out of Jenny's fingers. Breaking skin, and causing bleeding.

"... AAAAAAAAH!" Jen let out a scream, as she pulled back, and she broke free of the dog's grasp. Every drink she had fell out of her arms. Yet, it was still aggressive, it was right there at her feet, growling at her. She swung her leg and kicked the dog right in the snot. Which sent the dog scampering away back into the alleyway. Jen held onto her bleeding finger, as she looked at it - the wound was closing, pretty quickly. The blood had already stopped flowing, and it was disappearing. It stung... no, not the wound, but the healing process. But she'd rather get the pain out of the way while healing the wound, than catch rabies.

"... Jenny, you okay in here?" Meifeng voiced from behind Jennifer - which caused the blonde-haired teen to turn around and look, she saw that Meifeng was standing right in the alleyway. "I heard you scream, what happened?"

Jennifer instinctively put her hand behind her back, and nodded her head, "It's nothing... a rat just scared me." The remaining blood stained the back Jennifer's outfit, but no one would really notice.

Putting her hands on her hips, and shifting her weight to one of them, Meifeng gave Jennifer a playful smile. "You sure?" Meifeng started off. "Sounded like you seen a ghost."

"I-it's nothing, I promise." Jennifer repeated herself, but the stinging pain just stopped. She wiped her finger off against her pants, and pulled her arm around to reveal that the wound was gone, without a scratch. Ripped flesh was mended in less than a minute. And best of all; Meifeng didn't suspect a thing. She crouched down, and grabbed a bottle - before she stopped, and looked up at Meifeng. "... Can you help me pick these up?"

Well, Jen was acting weird - she usually acts weird, but this was even weirder. Yet, Meifeng didn't fret too much about it. If she doesn't want to talk about it, then that's fine. "Sure!" Meifeng yipped, as she crouched and grabbed her water bottle. Which left Jen with her own, and Ratchet's, soda. Both of them stepped out of the alleyway, and into the crowds of people. Meifeng cracked open the bottle of water, and began drinking it.

Jennifer held a bottle in each hand - but felt strangely hungry. Something that happens after she regenerates. "Hey, can we, uh, get something to eat?" She asked.

Meifeng paused for a moment, before all the water in the bottle strangely funneled into her mouth almost like it was getting sucked in. "Sure, I was thinking about getting some food, anyway."

"Sweet, let's go get Ratchet, then we'll grab something to eat."


Maxine Mariah Carter



Knightdale Rows, The Isabella Isle.

"... Come on, sweetheart, we can talk this out."

"No, bitch!" The man, had to be in his mid-twenties, thin, lanky, had brown hair brushed downwards over his forehead, wearing hipster clothes (jeans, a white short-sleeved button up) - yet, here he is, holding a revolver (That's a damn Model 586, Smith and Wesson, no way this little trust-fund baby got it himself.) against her forehead, pushing against the wall while he got more and more aggressive. His arm was shaking, and unsurprisingly, so was Maxine. "Listen here, you bitch, that was some bad grass you gave me, now I want my money back before I blow your sorry-ass head off." He growled at her, with every word, he got closer and closer to her face, until they were practically touching. "I'm counting to ten..." He pulled the trigger, which made the hammer pull into position, and Maxine's heart skipped a beat.

"... 1."

The second this man's countdown began, she almost pissed herself. He was serious, wasn't he? She felt so hopeless here, but she knew she couldn't let him count to ten. She wanted to simply teleport herself out of his grasp, but she didn't know how that'd turn out in the long run. It's a last resort, Maxine, you know this. She'd negotiate with him. Yeah, that'll do it, convince this moron that it'd be dumb to shoot her in a public area. "I don't have money on me, or weed - you went through my pockets and everything. I don't know what you want." Maxine pleaded, shaking her head.

"... 2." He moaned, quickly wiping his face of the sweat - Maxine considered taking her chance, but how he had that trigger pulled, all he had to do was move slightly in order for it to go off.

Christ, christ, christ. This guy is just some hipster, crawling out of whatever concert these over-privileged Knightdale Rows bitches come from. "C'mon, I left it all at my house, I swear. I can go get it for you."

"No! You better pull the money out your ass, bitch." He growled, pressing the gun against her head even tighter. "...3."

Okay, Maxine knew that he was on something else - other than the weed. The way he was acting, the shaking, it had to be amphetamine, or crystal meth. Whatever these Hipster druggies can get their hands on, honestly. Yet, she realized that it was ultimately irrelevant. There was still an angry-ass hipster holding a gun to her head. "C'mon, know where we are?" Maxine quickly looked around - and he counted to five - and looked down the dark alleyway that was illuminated by what little light shined in. She definitely heard people walking by just outside the alleyway. "Knightdale Rows, and we're in between two dive bars. You just know this won't go unnoticed. You'll get busted in a heartbeat, and you'll really be rewarded then." Maxine prepared for the worst, she knew that he was a druggie, and knew that she could just have easily set him off, but she knew that he didn't really intend on killing her. He would have shot her when he found out that she didn't have any money on her.

"Bitch - know what?! You talk too much!" That was not good. "Nine!" He immediately skipped a few numbers to the last one, which meant that she had only a second to react. In less than a second, Maxine's entire body exploded into a mass of glowing hot ashes, fire, and smoke. The mighty roar of the revolver signaled that he had fired the gun. The second the brief flash faded, the bullet had left a hole in the wall. He let out a yell - as the fire Maxine had turned into burned him - and he quickly wiped around, gun outstretched. By the time he turned around, however, Maxine was no where to be seen... Only thing there was a glowing orb that burnt brightly with a fire on the ground. "... Huh?" He said before the orb exploded. Shooting fire, and blanketing the alleyway with smoke.

He loudly began coughing, and hunched over somewhat, he watched out of the alleyway, a hand to his lips as he was coughing. Waving around the gun in order to get some of the smoke out of his face. He was out of the smoke, and he waved his hand around in order to swipe some of the smoke away. He raised his head - and the very first thing he saw was Maxine cocking a table-leg to take a swing at him. She swung the table leg towards his face, and the leg impacted his jaw hard enough to send him tumbling over to the side - it worked in Maxine's favor as he dropped his gun. He reached for it, but Maxine dropped her black combat boot on his hand, hard as she could, and he squealed out in pain. Maxine kept her boot there - Little Knightdale pussy can't even do anything. - as she knelt down and picked up his revolver, and looked at it, tilting it as she did so.

"Nice gun." Maxine complimented him... before she grabbed the handle, and pointed the gun at his face. Holding it like she knew exactly what she was doing. "Look here, buddo, I hate that it had to come to this, but I had no choice." She pulled the trigger somewhat, and watched as the hammer inched towards her. Heh, it felt a lot like her own piece - which is safely hidden in her own room.

"You're a- you're a freak!" The man shouted.

The smoke faded, and disappeared completely. "Shhh, shh, shh... course I am, and it's awesome." Maxine said with a wicked grin. "So, the police are probably on their way - so I'll just cut to the chase; if I ever see your sorry ass ever again, I'm going to make sure that burn your sorry ass to a crisp." Maxine made sure that she sounded extra-sadistic, just to give him even more reason not to fuck with her. "Now, when the police ask you questions, don't mention me to the feds, 'kay? I'll drag your ass down with me, so we'll both be getting ass raped in a prison shower. That is, if I don't decide to cap you with your shitty gun right here and now." Maxine pulled a little tighter on the trigger, and the man let out a yelp and put his hand up into the way - Like that's gonna help.

"Okay, okay, I won't say anything... just don't shoot!" The man pleaded.

Alright, she'll take her leave then. Though, she wondered what she'd do about the gun she was holding. She could try to fence it, but if the police find her with a stolen gun, that isn't going to end well. It was better with this jackass. Maxine pulled out the chamber, and tilted the gun upwards so all the bullets in the gun - Only loaded with three shots - slid out and jingled on the ground. Maxine just tossed the revolver over her shoulder and let it hit the ground. Maxine quickly turned back into her elements and quickly dashed down the alleyway, converting back to a human being seconds later. Glowing brightly as ash and cinders reformed into her usual human shape. By the time she was finished, she was already down the alleyway, making a turn.




Maxine sure as hell looked guilty as she fled down the streets of the Knightdale Rows, but she didn't give a shit. Long as she was far away from there when the police start asking questions, then that'd be fine with her. Maxine slowed down to a halt, and knelt over, panting. She noticed a black police cruiser strolling by. She didn't even look at it, she just stood straight up and put her hands into the pockets of her jean jacket, and began whistling as she walked down the sidewalk. She looked down, wondering if that bastard did anything to her clothes. Let's see... Maxine thought to herself, as she began to examine herself. She was wearing a black button-up shirt, with a jean-tie hanging from her neck. Her leather gloves were still on (Good, that means I don't have to worry about my fingerprints on his gun.), and she had on black cargo pants, with black combat boots. Everything was in order, except for one thing... Maxine reached into the pockets of her jeans, and pulled out a cigarette. She put it in between her pokey lips, and reached for her lighter... and of course it wasn't there. That hippie might have lifted it off of her. Bastard. Looks like she's going have to do it the conspicuous way. Maxine leaned forward a bit, and put her hand over her mouth, and summoned a flame to light the cigarette. She put her hands at her sides, before she began to walk again.

Maxine found the side of a diner, and leaned up against it - putting her boot against the wall. Blowing out cigarette smoke a few moments after every puff. Maxine's cellphone started ringing, and she immediately reached in her pocket for it. Without even looking, Maxine answered with a, "Hello."

"Yo, Maaaaaaax, how ya' doing, girl?" Maxine immediately recognized the voice - Britney, a girl that she partied with from Eaglerock Row. Had ties with the Red Crowns.

"Nothing, sister, just uh..." Maxine looked around, and wondered if she should tell Brittney what she just went through. "... Having a smoke."

"Girl, you're always smoking, don't you know that shit is bad for you!?"

One thing that Maxine knew was that she could withstand smoke without suffering even a little bit of trouble, so she was fine. "Yeah, I know, I know..." She smirked - Maybe some day she'll tell Britney about her power.

"But, word, did you hear about what deals the Fiends have been doing?" Britney immediately got Maxine's attention.

"No...?"

"Well, I ain't supposed to tell you... but I know how much you love word on the street..." Britney trailed off, which made Maxine even more curious. "... but all the other gangs are talking about these deals the Fiends have been making, deals to give people powers. And if that shit is true, it's crazy girl, because where are those fucking crackheads getting this stuff from?"

The Fiends... yeah, where are they getting this shit from? The attack on the Festival tells her that these Fiends are more well armed than a small army. "Who knows, sister. They probably know all the right dicks to suck." She joked, she didn't exactly believe her. Yet....

"I know, riiiiiiiight, well, Maxine, I gotta go. My man wants to take me out on a date, and I wanted to tell you that real fast before I forget. See ya later, girl!" Brittney ended the call.

... At the same time, Maxine couldn't help but believe her. Britney's word on the street was never wrong before, and the Fiends seem like the type of maniacs to have this kind of stuff. If Maxine could get her hands on it... well, she'd finally have her ticket out of Verthaven. One way or another.

Now, she just needs to know where to start.


NEST Meeting
@He Who Walks Behind@Maxx@SepticGentleman




NEST Headquarters, The Isabella Isle.

"Lihua," The NEST Director said, sitting in the opposite end of a large, wooden, oval-shaped table. The room was large, grey, and rectangle-shaped. With no windows, and on the middle of the table there was a projector. Seated all around the table was various NEST Agents (Lihua recognized Michelle, Ariella, Agatha, Sam...). "I've been waiting for you, would you mind getting seated?" On cue, Lihua sat down on the table near the projector. "Now that we have our Intelligence Officer, we can get started." The Director leaned in forward, putting her hands to mouth level, interlocking her fingers. "You all should be well aware of what happened, so I'm not going to beat around the bush when I say that the situation is fu- not looking good." Miranda said.

"We've been played." Michelle said, her arms crossed, and looking forward in the most neutral facial expression she could muster. She was wearing her standard NEST uniform without armor. Underneath the wetsuit there was gauze and bandages wrapped around the bullet wound. Along with bandages around the wounds caused by her transformations. They stung like hell, but she'll be fine in the end. What really bothered her was all the people going missing. She was right. The Fiends were just a distraction, while someone else did their devilish deeds... Michelle turned her head to the side. When I get my hands on Khan... She thought to herself.

"It sure seems that way." The Director said, "We are entirely unsure of who is behind the disappearances in the lab, but we are certain it is not the Fiends." She closed her eyes, and looked around the group. "I want to devote efforts towards investigating the disappearances... but, the NEST Council demands that we focus most of our efforts on eliminating the Fiends." She took in a deep breath, then let it all out. "Which is what we'll do. Intelligence Officer Lihua, did you gather the information I requested?"

"I have, ma'am." Lihua replied, monotone.

"Review the information, please."

Lihua nodded her head, stood up, and placed the USB drive into the projector. The lights of the room went dim as the projector turned on. "First, I'd like to discuss the Fiend's special mutagen." It displayed pictures of the Fiends brandishing their mutagens vials, and Fiends after they've mutated. Lihua stood up, and walked over to the projection. "The attack on the Festival told us that their use of Mutagens was much more widespread than previously believed. Before we thought they only sold small amounts of it at a high-price, and few members took it during gang brawls." Lihua nodded her head, as the imagine changed to a Fiend that was hideously covered in muscles, throwing a hot-stand stand several meters in the air. "After analyzing the Mutagen Agent recovered by Agent Gallus, it has been discovered that the Agents use low dosages of the raw form of the Metahuman energy in order to induce temporary powers at the cost of hideous deformities." The image changed again to a female Fiend breathing a toxic. "Only organization that is allowed to use raw Metahuman energy is the Intelligent System Designs corporation."

"So what you're saying is that the ISD is giving the Fiends this stuff?" Michelle asked Lihua, with a raised eyebrow.

"It could be the ISD..." Lihua looked at Miranda Caryl for a moment, and they exchanged looks. "... It could be a splinter group of them, or a whole new faction altogether. Point being is that someone is supplying them with this toxic mutagen." She grabbed the tips of her glasses, and adjusted them slightly. "... It goes without saying what we have to do."

"Does anyone know where do we even start?" Michelle asked.

"... Thus far..." Lihua sighed, "We have no solid leads, but does anyone have anything to contribute before I review anymore intelligence?"

"Exactly how difficult would it be for someone else to acquire metahuman energy, though?" Sam asked "It doesn't sound like something which is easy to acquire, but I'm sure that other scientific agencies with a less ethical approach to things could theoretically acquire them. Perhaps the Fiends are being fed by someone else. If I am correct, however, I believe that my colleague Samson Omondi, codename KINGFISHER CONDOR, has been researching the mutagen alongside the FBI." He turned to CONDOR, who stood up at his seat.

"I have been working with the FBI as well as VPD detectives, but we haven't found anything more than what agent VuHong has already said. I would like permission to look into the Intelligent Defense System more closely. Perhaps the FBI and I can find some more compelling leads. It's possible that there could be a double agent within the company who is supplying the Fiends with the mutagen." The word "double agent" seemed to ripple through the room like the shockwave of an explosion. Sam sat back in his seat and looked up at the ceiling. God this was dull. He wished the conference room had a window to stare out of.

Lihua's gaze from underneath her glasses went directly to Agent Clarke, and CONDOR. They certainly have much to contribute. "The ISD's method of extracting raw Metahuman energy is via a device specially designed to drain the energy out of Metahumans.... Theoretically speaking; anyone that gets their hands on such a device, and have the methods of containing it, could obtain Metahuman energy." Lihua answered Sam's question with the most professional demeanor. She thinks that she got it clear why she's NEST's Intelligence Officer. And why that filled her with so much pride. She earned the position, and was dedicated enough to spend the last couple hours absorbing as much information as possible - as per the Director's orders. Though, she doubted any of these jarheads even reviewed anything... Which is why she's here to fill them in.

Hmph? Raw Metahuman energy? Michelle honestly didn't know that there was a way to extract the energy... but, maybe there was something else going on here. While they were talking, she was fiddling with her gigantic thumbs, trying to make sense of all of this. She didn't know why they made her come to this meeting. Meetings and arrangements like this weren't her kind of thing. Michelle was more of a soldier. Yet, she was determined to get to the bottom of this as every other person in the room. Which is why she was going to give it her all. "... Permission to speak, Director?" Michelle said the very second Lihua and KINGFISHER stopped talking, standing straight up at attention.

The Director answered, "You may proceed."

"Thank you, Director." Michelle said, in the most orderly manner she could. She was talking to the Director, and usually she'd be a bit more lax - but you don't disrespect the Director. She'll have you scrubbing toilets having someone took a super-shit in it. Michelle looked around the room - all eyes were on her, she knew she couldn't screw this up - before she began with her theory, "I have a personal theory; what if the attack on the lab was to recover means to steal Metahuman energy?" She started off, looking around for reactions in the room. "It only makes sense, ma'am. A lab gets raided for all it's equipment, and ten people were kidnapped - doesn't that sound like someone wants to get some of the energy?" It quickly became clear to Michelle that, in the Super-Science world, Metahuman energy was as valuable as oil to the United States... and people are just as willing to spill blood for it. "Continuing off that, what if it was an inside job, too? It's entirely possible that crooked ISD Scientists have been creating Mutagen for the Fiends."

"Interesting thesis, Ms. Gallus..." The Director said, "Which is why I'm all for investigating the lab in University Row - and all ISD operations within the bounds of Verthaven." The Director turned towards CONDOR and Sam. "You have full permission to launch an investigation into the ISD."

There was something about this Lihua couldn't put her finger on - she didn't know what, but she knew it was best that she keeps it to herself. At least until she gets something more concrete. She nodded her head. "... If we're off this subject, may I continuing reviewing information? I have much to say about the Fiend's Hierarchy, and other key notes." Lihua adjusted her glasses.

"You may proceed, Agent VuHong." The Director said.

Lihua nodded her head, and the projection changed to a line of Fiends, armed with garden tools, walking down the street. "The Fiend's chain of leadership, due to their chaotic nature, is very hard for us to be certain." Lihua adjusted her glasses, and then continued, "Yet, we know that there are at least four high-ranking members of the Fiends under Khan. Each of them command different areas of the Fiend's territory, and they were likely chosen by her because they're equally dangerous Metahumans."

The projection switched to the image of a very tall (Nearly the height of Michelle) Caucasian man, thin, lanky, and was wearing a longcoat that dragged onto the floor, and had a greasy head of unkempt hair. Along with the Fiend trademark gas mask. "This is Aiden Smith, also known as Long Dragon, first of the Fiend's lieutenants, and the one who we know the most about. He is known to command Fiends in the Bazaar Riviera." The projection snapped to another image, of a tall, black-skinned, reptilian creature. At least twenty-feet tall, and had very thin limbs, hands tipped off with massive claws, a long snout, glowing white eyes, and, and four wings. "As you can see here, he is capable of transforming into a massive Dragon-like creature. Capable of breathing fire, flight, extreme feats of strength, and is tough enough to resist small arms."

"I fought him, he's one tough bastard." Michelle mentioned.

The projection image changed to a woman, Asian, sickly pale skin, short, and had very lanky - very well toned - limbs. She was shooting down a group of Highway Stars with an AK-47 - while they took cover. "Sulfur, the second Lieutenant we discovered - yet, we haven't confirmed her actual identity. She's seemingly Khan second in command, going off how often they're seen together on the field, and the authority she holds over the Fiends. We suspect that she has familiar ties with Khan." The image changed to a greenish-black sludge stretching forward, filling the street - seemingly melting vehicles as it created a yellow gas. "We don't know her exact ability, but it seemingly revolves around creating a toxic substance that causes a chemical reaction when it collides with metal that breaks it down, and produces a toxic gas in the process. This gas is capable of causing severe chemical-burns, and severe lung damage, and suffocation, if inhaled." The Gai Hexin Yuan would have made her a fine soldier. Lihua thought to herself as she continued.

The projection changed, to a tall, Caucasian, that was very muscular, and shirtless. He stood in between two gates, with his arms rested on both sides of the gate. He looked at the camera-person very seductively through his gas mask. Lihua looked at the projection for a moment, confused, as she looked through the files she was holding. "This is John Travis, also known as... Miss Director, are you sure we have the correct name?"

"Yes." She answered.

Which made Lihua sigh. "I don't get paid enough for this..." She muttered underneath her breath, "... Big-Dong Travis-" She made it clear that it was painful to say that, a direct insult to her pride. "-one of the lieutents that we know the most about. He usually engages in... fornication parties, with the other Fiends, and willing participants. Yet, Travis is the Fiend responsible for many of the Fiends larger drug trades with organized crime in, and out, of Verthaven. It is also suspected that Travis has access to serums that can give people powers - most commonly sold to the wealthy in Turtle-Creek." Lihua adjusted her glasses, and continued, "... Which we believe that he has taken himself. Up until a few months ago, he had no powers. Now, he's likely their most destructive Fiend." The image changed to Travis, now several feet tall, and skin was jet-black and shiny (Coated with bulging red veins), being fired upon by teams of NEST Agents - which had no effect on him. "Like Long Dragon, he is capable of changing forms. He can transform into a super-strong, super-dense, form - which is seemingly impervious to physical attacks - yet, we suspect that energy attacks may have an effect on him."

Everyone looked on and wondered how a lowly band of tweakers were getting all this stuff.

Lihua coughed, and the projection flipped to another image, to an thin Caucasian female, wearing combat pants, and a t-shirt, her face was obscured by a gas mask. Various burns on her body was seen as was in the middle of what seemed to be a tornado - objects and debris were flying around wildly, and getting crushed. "This is Burnmark, the newest Fiend Lieutenant we identified, and she's the most unpredictable one - suspected to be a side-effect of her." Lihua stepped to the side, and continued, "As you can see, she's telekinetic without control... Her power creates a wild telekinetic storm that destroys everything that's close enough."

Lihua nodded her head, before the projection changed to Khan herself, standing on a roof with a grenade launcher over her shoulder. "You all should know who this is, Khan. The one Fiend that has authority over them all. We have little information as to who she is, or where she came from - but we do know that she is a soldier of some sort. She's demonstrated impressive hand-to-hand and combat skills. She is our highest priority target." The last image the projection displayed was her fog, and the creatures she revived shambling inside the fog as silhouettes. "Her power is... very strange. She is capable of creating a fog that revives the dead and unconscious, which Khan seemingly has control over. The fog also causes hallucinations to the point where standing inside the fog can cause insanity. Along with the ability to turn into the fog, Khan is very hard to apprehend and track." Lihua nodded her head. "The attack on the Festival told us that the range she's capable of spreading the fog is much larger than we believed. She's capable of blanketing an entire city neighborhood with it - even for a few minutes." Lihua looked around the room, before nodding her head.

"This is all we know about the Fiends lieutenants."

"I have a question..." Michelle raised her hand. "... Where the hell were they during the attack on the Festival?" She then shrugged.

The two women exchanged glances for a moment, before Lihua answered, "Their whereabouts were unknown at the time." She looked around the room. "Any comments or suggestions?" She asked the group.
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by SepticGentleman
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SepticGentleman 𝙼𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎

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Carl Semken



“This whole city is going to shit.”

There were a few looks from around the room directed at Carl. He had his sleeves rolled up as he leaned on the table, head lowered some. It wasn’t clear if he meant to voice that remark – it really never is with him – or if he was simply not in the mood for professionalism. In truth, it was fifty-fifty. Carl raised his head about, giving an eyeless look around the room. “Well it’s true.” He retorted, turning a hand.

The rest of them turned back to each other and the projection screen while Carl rested his head again. Last night, Verthaven was launched into a goddamn war against the Fiends. Bunch of shirtless psychos with gas masks and tattoos. Yeah they had metas but, for Christs’s Sake, why the gas masks and tattoos? The leader have a Fallout fetish? Hell, that’s what Carl figured. Either that or they’re into some kinky shit. He mulled it over in his head while the rest of the room kept on talking about the situation.

Long Dragon. Sulfur. Big Dong Travis. Burnmark. I swear to God, this is some big joke. Someone’s pulling strings and they think it’s fucking hilarious. It ain’t.



Veronica Marlowe



All is still.

There are stains of white on the floor.

The cistern is silent, save the slow dripping of filthy waters, and the occasional splash. Veronica sits with her back to a brick wall, clutching two small jars in her hands. One is filled with pale custard, and the other a crimson gelatin. She looks at them both, wondering which to consume. The hour is almost up, and she was not fit for a randomized outcome. She sits there and she wonders.

Her little enclave was doing fairly well on food, but she had reason to believe that would change soon. Through her child, Pale, she’d caught the morning word of the rising action. The Fiends, those disgusting savages, were engaging in what she believed to be a war for control of the city. The thought was horribly unsettling, but not for the usual reasons. She didn’t care what happened topside. She only cared what happened down here, in the sewers. If the violence stirs too much, she won’t be able to get food. She’d starve down here. And what if the Fiends started using the sewers to move around? They’d drive her out, even with Red defending her. It was so worrying, and all she could do was make this decision, right here, right now.

Pale, or Red.

Get food before the turmoil turns Verthaven into ruin, or stay the ground down here and hold out for a while. The thoughts coursed through her head. But Veronica’s time was up. She made the decision. She opened the jar of red and raised it to her lips, tilting her head back and patting the bottom of the jar. She shut her eyes as the viscous fluid and little chunks made their way down her throat. She didn’t stop until all of the jar’s contents were gone. Until she had consumed everything. She slowly lowered the jar, setting both the empty one and the unopened one down on the floor. She ignored the awful taste in her mouth, she’d grown used to it by now. And she felt the rising in her gullet.

She winced, and gagged a little. A pause, and then she leans to her side, head facing downward. Thin streams of red drip from her lips as she begins heaving, a chunk or two falling onto the brick floor. After a moment, a bulge rises from the base of her throat and travels upward. She doesn’t close her eyes as the deliverance exits her mouth, dropping onto the floor.

A little, red, flimsy thing. Half the size of a tennis ball. Could fit in anyone’s palm. It lies there on the floor, tossing a bit, uttering the smallest cries. But it’s brave, and active, just like all the Reds before.

Veronica keeps her head lowered for a moment more before reaching her hand for a cloth, sitting on a little plastic crate. She picks up the infantile being and wraps it gently, holding it in her arms, returning to her seated position. She breathes audibly, but the hardship is over.

Now, all she had to do was wait for it to grow.
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Sam Clarke


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@Swich01


Sam sat in his chair with his arms crossed, watching as Lihua introduced the members of the Fiends known to NEST. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. This was absolutely ridiculous. Big-Dong? Long Dragon? Next they were gonna have a lieutenant named Deez Nutz. He looked over at CONDOR, who looked slightly uncomfortable. After this meeting, Sam was definitely grabbing some of the cooler agents and heading to the bar. CONDOR rose to speak, and Sam looked up at him.

"Excuse me, Agent Lihua," Condor said "but the FBI and I have identified one other lieutenant in the Fiends' ranks. We believe him to be the metahuman known as Darrick Trenton. He goes by the name of Plague, and is a carrier of some sort of painful and toxic disease. He is known to attack opponents with gigantic calcium-based creatures which appear similar in shape to T4 Bacteriophages. He is known to be extremely dangerous, and may possibly be responsible for the trafficking of their mutagenic drug into Union Point Hills and the downtown region. We have been unable to find many leads on him, and he was not present at the festival attack." He sat back down. Sam shrugged. He had only seen one of these fuckos, and something told him that he didn't want to see any of the others. He looked over at Nightingale, the third KINGFISHER in the room. One thing was certain; they had a lot of work to do.


Rafael Davila



"Good evening, everyone. This is Sandra Collins from CNN with our four o'clock report on the Verthaven Lockdown." all around the United States, film of the police line separating Downtown from the rest of Verthaven was shown, a news reporter in a red pantsuit standing in front of it. Superimposed in the top right-hand corner of the screen was a picture of a chain-link fence with the words "VERTHAVEN LOCKDOWN" across the front of it. Behind the fence, darkness and fires rising from the abyss. The title at the bottom of the report read "50 dead in Verthaven Terrorist Attack". From the standpoint of nation and international news media, the terrorist attack was the best thing since the Baltimore Riots in April. The front page of CNN was a dramatic picture of a man in a gas mask standing above a woman cowering in fear, a haze of fog obscuring the background, and all morning CNN and Fox News had been reporting the situation from Downtown Verthaven.

"As of this exact moment, the exact death toll of the attack yesterday is fifty, and the hospitals are packed with the wounded. A few hours ago, the National Guard arrived" the footage cut to film of Humvees driving down a central street downtown as the reporter continued talking "and since then things have gotten quite interesting. At least four suspected Fiend hideouts around Verthaven have been raided by a combination of NEST and National Guard troops, and the number of gang members apprehended is estimated to be around fifty," a number which she blindly pulled out of her ass as the footage switched back to her standing at the closed-off bridge "We now take you to James Schuyler, who is at NEST Headquarters with the NEST Director of Media. James?"

The footage cut to outside of the NEST Headquarters on Isabella Isle. A middle-aged caucasian man with balding brown hair stood outside, a microphone in his hand. Next to him, Rafael Davila, NEST's Director of Media Relations, stood with his hands behind his back and a look of general disinterest on his face. He was a tall and imposing man, 6'3" with a look of professionality to him. He wore a black suit with NEST insignias on the shoulders and a purple-and-white striped tie.

"Thanks Sandra," he said "I am here with Mr.Rafael Davila, NEST's Director of Media Relations. What can you tell us about NEST's efforts in this lockdown, Director?"

"Not much that you don't already know, James." Davila said, a slight Hispanic accent to his voice "NEST is working very hard to ensure that the people of Verthaven are safe, and our agents are stationed around the city in areas where we know that a Fiend presence exists. Thanks to assistance from the National Guard, we have been able to fully secure the Rosalina Isle district and can assure citizens in these areas that, so long as they stay in their homes and abide by the rules of the lockdown, they are perfectly safe."

"Can you give us more information on these supposed raids of Fiend hideouts around the city?" James asked.

"Due to the sensitive nature of those raids, I cannot, James. I can tell you, however, that with the help of the National Guard, we have been able to bring many of the members of the Fiends to justice."

"Good, good." James trailed off "Now I'm sure you're expecting someone to bring up this video footage which was caught during the attack and went absolutely viral." The screen split, and on the other side a video from a smart phone was pulled up. It showed the fair enshrouded in fog, and limping through it several of the animated dead which Khan had summoned, their arms outstretched and their mouths agape and dripping saliva. "Now what can you tell us about this seemingly zombie-like encounter, Director?" Rafael paused a moment, thinking of what to say.

"Well we know that this was an incident caused by a metahuman member of the Fiends, James." Rafael said "Their name and information have yet to be discovered or declassified, but we know that they are not in NEST's database of registered metahumans, meaning that they are almost certainly a professional criminal. We also know that this fog has a hallucinogenic effect, making this metahuman extremely dangerous."

"Interesting. And what plans does NEST have in protecting people from this powerful meta? Do you have a way to counteract her abilities?" Once again, Rafael paused.

"Well, figuring out how to counter metahumans is a task that takes a lot of time," Rafael said "Because a metahuman ability is something which is unique to every metahuman, we cannot create any sort of counter for a metahuman ability until we can analyze their DNA, which, in this case, we do not have. Needless to say, our agents are on full alert for this metahuman, and if anyone sees any kind of supernatural-looking fog or experiences unexplained hallucinations, please dial 911."

"Alright. So what about these disappearances in University Row, Mr.Davila? Do these have any connections to the attacks yesterday?"

"Well it sure seems like it, James," Rafael said "But I cannot speak definitively on the matter. Our detectives are in the process of investigating the disappearances of those men. We at NEST send our condolences to all of those families who are missing loved ones due to those kidnappings. We will do everything in our power as an organization to see to it that those men and women of Intelligent Defense Systems are brought back home safely."

"We know you will," James said "That about wraps us up, Director. Thank you for speaking with me."

"It's always a pleasure, James." Rafael said. The camera stopped rolling and Rafael took a deep sigh.

"Thanks for that, Rafael." James said after a moment "You feel like getting some coffee?"

"Wish I could James, but I've got to get back to HQ." Rafael said.

"Alright, then," James said "See you around." The man walked away, and Rafael rolled his eyes. God, he hated news reporters.


PLAGUE





"THIS IS THE NEST! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!" Shouts came from the floors below as a crowd of NEST agents, armed in full riot gear, stood outside of the doors of one of the many Fiend hideouts in Union Point Hills. It was a seemingly-abandoned row house on a row of houses like it, all of them with the condemning red "X" spray-painted on the front. The windows were boarded up and the brick facade was crumbling. Inside it wasn't much nicer, with holes in the floor covered with plywood and drywood decaying within the walls. All in all, it was a perfect place for a hideout. Unfortunately, it had been compromised, and now NEST was standing outside.

Plague was lying in bed in his room at the top of the house, his mask sitting on the crooked nightstand. Like the other rooms, Plague's bedroom was dilapidated and aged, with drywall sticking out of the walls and cobwebs on the ceiling. The corner of the room leaked, and the windows were shattered and boarded-up. As the knocking echoed up the house, Plague became vaguely aware of the sound of helicopter rotors outside. These guys weren't fucking around.

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter," Plague groaned weakly, sitting up and strapping on his mask, he watched as two Fiends came in, both high. They had their masks strapped on. One was painted white with red flames, and the other contained a clown motif.

"The fuzz is outside, boss," one of the two said. Plague frowned under his mask. He reached for the amplifier under his mask and flipped it on. His voice now came on artificial and static-like, like the voice of a man speaking through an old radio.

"I am aware," Plague said, rising to his feet. "I hope you are prepared to fight. It would be terrible if you perished in a fiasco such as this." The two men gulped. Plague had a nose like a bloodhound for pot. The two gripped their guns tightly and looked back down the hall. Two floors down, all Hell was about to break loose.

"Are you sure that we shouldn't run, sir?" one of them asked Plague. Plague opened a drawer in his nightstand and took from it his trusty MAC 10 machine pistol. He loaded a few clips into his belt.

"Ah, but what is the fun in that?" Plague said "Either way, we are surrounded. NEST will not tolerate us escaping after what Khan and her men did at that festival. We are, as the saying goes, rats in a trap." The two men exchanged glances. Plague took a kevlar vest from his closet and pulled it on over his wifebeater.

"Why are you still standing here?" Plague shouted, turning up the amplifier in his mask "Arm yourselves, you morons! And tell Daniel below to prepare the floor mines." The two men skittered out of the room and ran down the stairs. Plague sighed and looked up at the helicopter above through a crack in the boards on the window. He sighed, and began to walk towards the door. As he walked, two bacteriophages, the size of housecats, generated at either side of him. They floated behind him, making odd screeching sounds as they scratched at the walls and swam through the air aggressively, looking for something to attack. In a few more seconds, two more generated. Plague walked down to the second floor and stopped at the landing. Below, seven Fiends were congregated in front of the door, all armed with AK-47s and machine pistols. He looked to Daniel, a Fiend who wore a stark white mask. He was on the second floor as well, and had an RPG sitting on his shoulder. He was one of Plague's Favored, Fiends who he deemed intellectually superior to the others. They exchanged glances and Plague smiled under his mask. All of the imbeciles on the floor were dead meat, and if NEST decided to go in further, he had a plan. Two more bacteriophages generated. The six perched on the railing above the stairs and stared down, shaking with excitement.

"COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!" the voice shouted "THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING! WE WILL ENGAGE YOU!" Plague turned his mask's volume as high as it would go.

"Then come on in!" he shouted "and stare upon the face of true horror!"

(to be continued)
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by Partisan
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Junichi Ikaido, “Joshua.”




“Fuckin' fiends..” The young man that called himself Jun walked down the concrete stairs that led up to his appartment. He had just finished watching the news show with 'Molly Schuler', some half-male looking bimbo with a pin-striped suit. Who wore that kinda stuff. Tsk. After that he had thrown on his black slip-ins and his navy coat, before putting an unlit cigarette on his lips and walking out the door. His dog, Wotan, had yelped angrily as Jun left the house. But he was used to that by now - damn dog wouldn't want to be alone even if it meant he could chew up the nearly broken chairs.

The concrete stairwell was cold, both the concrete itself and the air in it. It was another of those shitty days - it was warm outside, but the stairwells were always cold as shit. And that never sat well with Jun. Though it was always nice to return from a warm day at the docks, to walk into that cool stairwell and have a break from that sweaty weather. Anyway.. today he had a day off for a chance - Ricardo, his boss, had deemed fit to close the docks for the dockworkers a day. Probably, that had to do with the attacks. “Mwuess I can fank the Fiends f'r tha..” he said, his words coming out a bit malformed due to the cigarette in his mouth. However, now that he had a day off, he'd be clueless as to what to do for the day. He could visit his mom and pops? Possibly, but that meant he'd have to endure the talks about how his little brother was being a rascal again, and was smoking like Jun. Too much shit for one day. Maybe visit Ame. Wait, no. She called herself Amy now, since the Americans kept going “Ame? No dear, you pronounce it Amy..” Fucking Americans and their rude manners. He'd reached the bottom of the stairwell by now and still had no idea what he was going to do. He gave himself one last time to come up with something. If I don't think of something before I lit my cigarette and step outside..

Welp, he didn't have to choose anymore. Right before he got to light his cigarette, the face of a known person popped up. “Sup Pwatchy',” Jun said with a light smile, though his words were still somewhat muffled due to the cigarette, he was happy with the spontaneous nickname that he came up with for this idiot, with his stupid eyebrow patch. “Yo, Jun. Where were you last night man? Shit was cray-cray.” he said, pointing at the patch he had on his eyebrow. Maybe this idiot was at the festival when the shit hit the fan. “I was mworking man, Ricardo got mwe working overtime last night.” he said, finally lighting the cigarette and proceeding down the stairs completely, turning the corner with his friend 'Patchy' in tow. “Man, those fiends are crazy shit. I don't know if my boss can deal with them. Maybe it's time to lay low, what'ya think Jun?”

Jun inhaled deeply and then let the smoke roll out his mouth before taking the cigarette off his lips to speak. “Ah, you got some pocket money after that last deal we did. Maybe you should tell your boss that you want some time off. Prob'ly he's not dumb enough to go toe to toe with the fiends.” Jun omitted the fact that if his friends would back off, lay low for a time, that meant that Jun was out of the circuit too. His position as dockworker allowed him to sneak stuff into boxes that were meant to go onto the ships, so he was a prime candidate for doing some jobs on the side for the Yakuza bosses. And his friends were only minor players, not even full initiates. They were merely wakagashira-hosa, underlings. It'd be some time 'till they were initiated as kumi-in, enlisted men. Untill then they were stuck rolling with the street gang they had created, the Yellow Men. A stupid name if you asked Jun, but it was a remnant of their childhood years when they faced common remarks about their skin color. Instead of crying about it they made it their own and hence forth they were called the Yellow Men, a group of kids running around stealing food from supermarkets, stealing snicker bars from gas stations and running past old ladies and grabbing their purses. Lucrative for a 14 year old.

But now they were older and into even more lucrative stuff. Armed robberies at times, a kidnapping even, and most notably drug trafficking. Mostly in service to a Yakuza boss that didn't want to be tied to the crime that he awnted done. But it earned a good amount of money that the Yellow Men obviously spent right away on booze, women and other useless shit. Jun might've been the only one that was only marginally involved by helping out, and as such he didn't get much money from it, only a bit of pocket change that could help him save up for later. But since that accident in the docks last year, he'd have spent all of that just on the hospital. “So where we going, Patchy? And how'd ya get that patch.” Patchy didn't seem to mind the new nickname and simply answered “We're going to the regular spot, the Kushi bar. The other Yellow's are waiting there. That patch? It's nothing, one of the damn fiends kicked me in the head when I tried to get away from that massacre. .. obviously I killed him after that.” Okay, now that was a blatant lie, but Jun kept that to himself and simply nodded at the man. They were headed for the Kushi bar, the regular meeting spot for the Yellow Men, and other tough looking thugs.
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by swich01
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A man pulled up next to the pump and got out his pickup. Walking around the bed he unlocked the tank cap and slid the nozzle home. Looking up as he filled the tank Martin couldn’t help but behold the ivory tower they call NEST Headquarters. He had nothing against the folk in NEST, hell he knew what most of them stood for and agreed but… well. When a woman builds a fastness like that it’s hard to believe they come in humble supplicating peace.

As the pump clicked done he replaced the nozzle, screwed the cap closed, flipped the cover and stalked off to the station. Still… I ain’t here for NEST he thought as he handed the pretty, bored looking girl behind the counter a couple twenties grabbing a can of something awful as he left. Walking back to his pickup he thought about how many years it had been since he’d been in town.

More than a decade at least, it’d take some time to… re-adjust. Verthaven was always unique. This city always seemed to have a life of its own and a vengeful life at that. Closing the door he wondered where he’d set up. Perhaps Union-point hills, there might be irony in that somewhere but it would be inconspicuous at very least.

Pulling out the station it struck him. “God I wonder if the folks are still around” he muttered to himself. It was a pretty sobering thought. He should probably find out. Maybe even try and talk to them. Things didn’t really leave off all that cuddly.

He was getting pretty close to Estella Isle. This would be his last chance for a while. He dropped the clutch, rocked the stick and put the foot down. Hearing the engine he’d put so much time into growl and reverberate he remembered why he was going home.

Slowing as he reached the city proper he’d noticed the national guard milling around in their typical slightly aimless way. Though perhaps less aimless than usual. If this wasn’t a sign he didn’t know what was.

Walking away from a rundown little news stand outside one of the trolley stations in las Palmas he started to read. Several minutes later sitting in his pickup he breathed out. How did the fiends become this. Throwing the broadsheet on the seat next to him, he pulled away back into traffic towards Uni bridge. Traffic was slow around the bridge. Seemed the guard were performing “random checks” on vehicles crossing. Randomly selecting larger vehicles that could move contra-band.

As he pulled up a sergeant waved him to the side. “Offf course” he muttered as he pulled in to the little roadside check point. As the sergeant approached he wound the window down pulling his wallet from the jacket under the newspaper on the passenger seat.

“Hello there sir, we are performing random searches on vehicles across the city in response to the recent incident at the summer fair. Mind if we search your vehicle sir?” The man behind the wheel could almost see the script provided by some officer at his desk. “Sure thing” he responded. The sergeant waved to one of his men and two cops with a sniffer dog emerged from round the side of a humvee. Turning back the sergeant continued “Can I ask you for yo… thank you sir” finding the man’s service card proffered through the cab window.

One of the officers guided the dog around the pickup whilst the other followed with an angled mirror. Looking from the card to the man the sergeant hands it back and looks to the cops. Looking back to the man at the wheel he said “Well sir we’re done here, everything looks good. You drive safe now.” “Thank you sergeant, have a good one.” The man said while pulling out onto the bridge. Looking out across the lake toward the downtown bridge and standing rock mountain he couldn’t really blame them for missing the hidden compartments. They were after all hidden exactly where you couldn’t normally put a compartment. The hermetic sealing would have fooled the dog even if he decided to run drugs. The irony of the thought brought something of a smile to his face.

Ignoring the accumulated students of university row he drove till he crossed the next bridge and made his way through Chinatown. He cruised the lower union point hills for some time. It was near sunset when he happened on a building with a letting sign that looked liveable. Parking up he stepped out. Looking left and right he saw a street with kids playing and women chatting. Signs of a decent neighbourhood, he wondered what it would look like if there hadn’t been an attack on downtown.

Pushing open the heavy swing door he walked into the lobby. Old fashioned wood skirting and olive painted walls greeted him along with a wooden office booth. Sitting in the swivel chair was a young girl maybe ten years old with dark hair facing away from him. Walking up to the counter he tapped a couple of times to get her attention. Whipping round from some sort of games console she nearly fell from the chair mouth agape. “Is your” the man started to say when she leapt off the chair to run through the door at the back screaming “PAPPY PAPPY PAPPY MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN” The maaaaan watched her go with his customary frown and laughter in his eyes.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Out of the back walked an older Italian gentleman. Tall with a prodigious gut and thinning hair, he was probably quite handsome once. “Who’s out here scarin my granddaughter? Oh? Somebody new, well if you’re done scarin children what can I do for you.” He spoke like a man familiar with everybody regardless of how long he’d known them.

“Sorry about that sir I didn’t mean any harm. I just noticed you have space and I’m just back in town. I was looking for a place to lay my head.” Said the man

Laughing the old man returned “Think nothing of it, Amelia here is a big’ol fraidy cat.”. “Am not” came a small reply from behind the old man’s legs. “So fella before I think about givin you a tour how about you tell me about yourself."

“Fair enough. My name is Martin Kirkman, I served as a grunt in Iraq for three years and an EOD for five. I left the military about four years ago and began work as a custom parts fabricator. I work from home now. I felt it was time to come home and face the old demons, though it seems you’ve got your own since I left town.” Martin Explained.

The old man considered him. “You served? Then you got your card right?” the old man asked. Martin lifted his card from his wallet and handed it over. Taking the card the old man barely looked before handing it back. “My names Caesar, I got a couple places you could look at.”

“Anything on the top floor?” Martin asked. “Suppose you’ll be looking at that one first then. Go open the elevator, you can take the stairs if you want but not me.” Caesar huffed. Walking to the elevator Martin pulled back the cage and stepped inside followed by Caesar and Amelia. Caesar pulled the cage closed with a grunt and fingered the button for the top floor, “there’s roof access just don’t go chucking things off the side, kids play down there”.

Walking out the elevator they climbed one more flight of stairs to a landing with two doors. “That one leads to the roof this ones the room” unlocking and pushing open the door Caesar walked into the living room. “There’s a small bedroom and bathroom with a shower and that’s about it, not much else to say about an attic room. The last occupant skipped town a couple weeks ago. Mary, that’s my wife, has been up to tidy it up but other than that.” Caesar shrugs. “deposit and first month’s rent and its yours, there’s a garage round the corner for a few extra bucks.”

Martin reached into his coat and pulled out a simple leather bill clip and separated out the money. Counting it he handed it to Caesar who took it, counted it and looked at Martin “what was it you said you did” Caesar asked.

“Custom parts fabrication.” Martin retorted. “That pay well?” Caesar continued. “Yeah pretty good actually, especially for discontinued auto parts and various prototype parts." I’m just not a big fan of banks” Martin Explained. “Me nither all told, Mary calls me old fashioned for it. Still the place is yours, here’s the keys. Come down latter when your settled in and we’ll get the paperwork done. Come on Amelia stop being a nosey pants an come downstairs with me” Caesar called back half way out already.

Martin spent the next hour carting boxes and bags from the pickup to his flat. When all was said and done there was several piles of bars and belts and chain and other assorted bits and pieces. One of the few things not in chunks was his television. Turning it on he sat down on the floor and started to work.

Two hours latter assorted bits had been converted to a rowing machine, treadmill, two chairs, a table, a work bench and a rack for tools and a television. Before leaving his flat in Arizona Martin had broken down his main possessions for transport. It was far quicker to just use his power to rebuild something from its original parts rather than try and construct it again from scratch. Martin now turned his attention to a cavity in the wall. Reinforcing and sealing it he created a small door which met with the rest of the wall seamlessly. Opening it with a push of an internal latch he passed his gear inside. Leaving only his “Thermals” which he wore and his licensed homemade M1911 reverse holstered on his left side. Closing the door and releasing the latch he could relax with his secret hidden.

Putting on his coat he went downstairs and filled out the paperwork with Caesar. “That you done for the night?” Caesar asked. “I’m thinking I’ll take a walk around and try and suss the place out a bit before I turn in for the night.” Martin responded.

Walking down the street Martin found himself wandering as he wondered. Was it good to be home? He wasn’t sure but he sure as hell was here now and not backing down till he’d paid his debt.
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Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Mixtape Ghost N
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Maxine Mariah Carter



The cigarette she was enjoying was nearly down to the bud (The filter was all but useless to Maxine, since she was immune to the effects of smoke), with burning specs of ash raining downwards gracefully. She sucked the smoke, and the hot ash, into herself. Adding to her internal supply. Which meant her cigarette break was over.

She should probably get the hell out of the Isabella Isle (Especially since there might be police coming after her), and head off into the Estella Isle. She dropped what wasn't burnt up, and stepped off the wall - it was devoid of heat, so she didn't need to step on it. Maxine put her hands into her pockets, and slowly started walking. Heading walking down the sidewalk - a NEST Humvee drove by, and made Maxine it was for her for a moment. It drove by (Yet, she couldn't help herself but stare) - towards one of the Knightdale Rows many clubs. The Sixth Seed. A quaint little Jazz club. For a moment, she looked around. The Sixth Seed usually opens up at night, and this meant free parking! And there her ride was, a red Ford Pickup. Usually, Maxine parks far away from her destination, and walks there (Which leaves her at an obvious disadvantage when she's running, but Maxine can run). She stepped over to her truck, and slid the keys in - taking a moment to look around (Mostly for the feds, or bitch-boy) before she opened the door. She slid inside, and put her keys into the ignition, and pulled out of the parking lot.

Driving through the streets fast as she could, she had the windows down so the wind flew into her face. The first destination was the Estella Isle. Between the Estella and Rosalina Isles, the Estella Isle was probably the shittiest part of Verthaven, and honestly, she normally wouldn't be caught dead there (Because, there's a lot more drug dealers there, and they're a lot more ruthless - the types that wouldn't tolerate some skinny white bitch encroaching on their territory). But, those same people could be of help to her. Maxine knows that sitting on her ass won't do anything. Best thing she can do at this point is get some information on the Fiends from some of her fellow crooks. Wish I had some contacts in NEST, then I could really get started.[/color] Maxine thought to herself, as she came up to a stop. At this point, she was on the bridge between the Estella and Isabella Isles. Traffic was pretty backed up for some reason. Why the hell is traffic all backed up... She thought to herself. With all the National Guardsmen, and NEST swarming the area, she imagined that they'd be heading away from the Estella Isle. Yet, she was jumping the gun a bit here.

Traffic resumed, and it wasn't long before Maxine was in the Estella Isle... and the first thing she saw was a convoy of National Guard trucks heading away from the Isle. Maxine rolled her eyes as she pressed on by them. See, the Fiends really fucked up the balance of the city with their little attack on the Fair. Usually it's just big game of cops and robbers... and the robbers broke the rule, so now they have more cops than they know what to do with. Which meant that Maxine had to work reeeeeeeeeeal quick. NEST would get their hands on any serums before Maxine did.

After a long ride, Maxine arrived in Chinatown - yeah, it was a far cry from the clubs and dives of Knightdale Rows, but she knew a spot. A spot where thugs hung out. And since it was close to Union Point Hills, she could easily go from Chinatown to UPH in no time. Only problem was that it was mostly where Asian gangsters hung out - don't get Maxine wrong, she was fine with people of any color. It was just that sometimes they aren't. Maxine pulled her truck into a parking spot, and locked the doors as she walked away from it.

Towards the Kushi Bar she goes.


NEST Meeting
@He Who Walks Behind@Maxx@SepticGentleman


Hmph, Plague. Lihua didn't know about that lieutenant, and KINGFISHER did. That brought a twinge of irritation as she quickly realized that, if she didn't know, that means KINGFISHER withheld it. The arrogance of that organization - they think they're their own organization, don't they? The aged woman rolled her eyes, and resisted the urge to say something sassy (Because just she couldn't make the wedge between herself and her co-workers even bigger). Despite her irritations, Lihua quickly pulled out her notepad (Hidden within the files), and began writing down everything Condor said. So she can update the database with it later. She then stood straight up, and turned towards CONDOR. She put her fingers on the side of her glasses, and nodded her head. Calmly saying, "Noted. I will update the database with this new information as soon as possible." Plague's power, however, was quite frightening. The ability to spread a toxic disease... something that not even Lihua could counter with her concrete. Her only hope is to hit him with a distance. Yet, at the same time, she knew that she would likely never encounter him. I am simply too old, and have too much to lose to be a field Agent. Lihua thought to herself, as her venomous gaze drifted from her files, over to Sam, then Michelle, then Carl. ... And I actually have long term goals.

"Is that all, Miss Vuhong?" The Director asked Lihua, crossing her arms.

"Other than what we already know, I have reviewed all information, and, with the help of KINGFISHER-" Lihua put emphasis on KINGFISHER, saying it almost like an insult. "-we've gain a little more in the process." Her accent slipped for a moment, and she quickly recomposed herself.

"Very well," The Director said, pushing herself up to her feet. "That means we're finished here, and it's time to give everyone their assignments. Our objective will be to eliminate Khan, and her five Lieutenants." The Director started off with Michelle, and nodded her head, "Captain Gallus, Semken, you are to assist in the Raids against the Fiends until further notice." The Director turned towards Sam, and the Nightingale. "I am assigning KINGFISHER efforts towards apprehending the Fiend's lieutenants - However, Khan is the highest priority." Finally, her gaze rested on Lihua, "And Agent VuHong, I am assigning you to investigate the ISD and the missing Metahumans." Everyone nodded their head in agreement.

"Starting tomorrow, you are to begin your assignments." The Director said. "For now, all of you are dismissed."
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by ToadRopes
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Injae Park

@Mr Allen J


Ratchet had every expectation to lose because she actually sucked at volleyball. (She just played along for the sake of fulfilling the expectation of humankind being a social animal.)

"I gave you fair warning, I did say I'm total ass at this game," Ratchet said, rubbing her head. "Still, getting caught in the jaw with that thing was an all-time low. I didn't know that was possible."

She smirked, then half-facetiously said, "But hey, any time you feel like getting wrecked, 1-v-1 me on the marching band field. I'll play circles around you." At that last statement, the one-armed junior mechanic leaned over with a silly grin.

Jenny offered to get drinks. "Cool," Ratchet said. "How about... lemonade?"

Jen left and Ratchet called after her. "Thanks," she called.

Ratchet stood and twiddled her thumbs. The day was theirs (until Meifeng's mom showed up); they ought to--

"AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"

Ratchet started. God, that girl could scream.

She followed Meifeng to the alley with the vending machine and peeked over her shoulder. She silently watched the conversation take place between Meifeng and Jen took place. "Wait. You're absolutely sure you're OK. Good. You sound like something like bit your arm or something. Or maybe you saw one of those--never mind," Ratchet checked herself. Too soon.

Ratchet stuck a leg out and pointed her good index finger that same way. "I saw a Baja Fresh on the way dashing over here," she suggested. "We could go there, or something..."

Ratchet was still amazed that Jen had gotten out of the situation on Rosalina (the isle, not the character) completely unscathed. She must've been really lucky to not have been shot. Or, of course, really good at not dying from gunshots. The only reason Ratchet didn't FREAKING DIE was that she stayed well away from the death zone (and got really lucky when she did venture in to check on Jen).
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Sam Clarke


@Mr Allen J
@He Who Walks Behind
@SepticGentleman



The moment that the meeting adjourned, Sam stood up and stretched as largely as he could. God, did he hate meetings. He looked around as some of the corporates left the room, a few giving him dirty looks. He didn't really care; he wasn't under their jurisdiction, and at this point, they needed him here. He looked over at the notepad on the table (he had taken notes of each lieutenant under a doodle of a stick-figure Lihua terrorizing a city like Godzilla). Each lieutenant was a walking fortress surrounded by an army. It wasn't going to be easy to take them down.

Looking down at his phone, Sam saw that it was about 4:40, nearly Happy Hour. Considering that he had no assigned tasks as of yet, he figured that now would be a good time to hit up the bar. He looked in the direction of CONDOR and Nightingale. Condor had just donned his blazer and was absentmindedly flicking lint off of it.

"Damn, I need a drink," Sam said. "You guys wanna hit up the bar? I'm sure we can deal with the mooks later." He caught the flickering Carl and Michelle out of the corner of his eye, and looked over his shoulder. "Hey guys!" he shouted. "Carl, Michelle, we're heading out to grab a drink. Wanna come with us?"


PLAGUE v. NEST Taskforce



"Then come on in," he shouted "and stare upon the face of true horror!" Outside, the agents were fed up. If these imbeciles weren't going to come quietly, then they were going to leave in hearses. The taskforce commander nodded to one of the two agents standing on either side of the door. The agent took a large, flat object, a breaching charge, peeled off the backing, and stuck it to the door with a loud slap. In his other hand was the detonator. As he prepared to pull the trigger, four other agents walked up to the steps and took positions, their rifles primed and ready. Up above, three agents had fast roped down from the helicopter above and were standing on the roof, ready to swing down and smash through the third-story windows. In the back, four agents crouched at the sides of the glass sliding door, ready for action.

Inside, Plague cracked his knuckled and smiled under his mask. He looked over to two mercenary-looking Fiends sitting to the side, and they began to walk up the stairs, their submachine guns at the ready. Daniel had his eye trained on the door. He handed Plague a red detonator. Talia, another one of Plague's chosen, took position on the steps leading to the third floor, a shotgun cradled in her arms. As she touched the cracked and peeling wallpaper that lined the steps, her skin color changed to match it. Active camouflage. Plague generated two more phages. Now eight and all stood at the landing above, ready to strike. They shivered with anticipation. In the room below, the Fiends found places to hide. The first floor was a kitchen and living room, with the living room in the back and the kitchen adjacent to the front door. Couches were flipped and furniture turned into barricades. The fridge was shoved out of its place in the wall and moved into the line of fire to act as a shield. Three men hid behind the counter. One hid in the closet. As the breaching charge was slapped onto the door from the other side, the whole building seemed to grow quiet. Then the door blew and all Hell broke loose.



As the door blew into pieces, the first floor exploded into chaos. Shouts and gunfire filled the air as six NEST agents ran in the front door wielding shotguns and assault rifles. The back doors exploded as more agents rushed in from the other side. Up above, the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass could be heard. Daniel fired the RPG; one of the agents shouted as he was suddenly blown into pieces. He dove down a hallway as one agent turned his gun on the second story landing. Plague ducked down and fired at the man. The phages soared in to attack, flying through the air like a swarm of horrible wasps. They slashed at the agents with their metallic claws and swarmed around them, attempting to find a good entry point for their probe to be injected. One found a fleshy spot on an agent's upper thigh. It dug its legs in and, lowering itself, fired a needle from its abdomen into the man's thigh. It injected a full dosage of disease, and then disintegrated.

Up on the third floor, the NEST agents roped in to find themselves set up. Before they hit the ground, gunfire was upon them, and they didn't last long. One of them skidded along the ground and kicked one of Plague's men in the gut, slamming him into the bookshelf. He turned to swing at the other's face and found the barrel of a shotgun pointing at his head.

The Fiends on the floor below did not fare well. They were surrounded on both sides with men much better-trained than they, and thusly they dropped like flies. The fighting on the floor below soon degraded into hand-to-hand combat, with Plague and Daniel firing pot shots into the seething crowd. Plague didn't care if any of the men were apprehended; they were all infected, all but his chosen few, and they would die soon anyways. The phages did their work well, tearing away at vulnerable spots in the agents' armor and severely wounding two of them. The one who had been injected was writhing on the floor. Plague could hear his breaths coming in rasps. As the last group-level Fiend or two fell, the guns began to train themselves on the second level, where Plague and Daniel were. As soon as the first bullet grazed the railing, Plague pulled the trigger on the detonator. The building shook and roared as remote explosives under the first floor floorboards activated. The floor collapsed in a mushroom cloud of smoke, taking with it the kitchen, the first-story steps, and most of the house's facade. The agents fell to their deaths. Plague nodded, but before he could enjoy his victory he heard more shouts from outside. One of Plague's men jumped down from the third-floor landing onto the second floor.

"National Guard outside," he said. "We've got to go." Plague and Daniel ran for the stairs as soldiers began to file into the room. They found the floor to be surprisingly absent. Up above, Plague and his chosen walked into a closet on the third floor. Plague nodded to one of the men, and they kicked the back wall. It fell apart effortlessly, creating a passageway to the next row house. They would go through the houses all the way to the end, where they could climb down a fire escape to safety. Plague had this exit plan perfected. The only hitch would be that it would have to be done in broad daylight. He would have to think on his feet if he wanted to make it out of this alive. He had three more phages; those would come in handy, but they couldn't stop the National Guard. They were simply too strong. As Plague heard shouts from behind him, he decided that he would figure out where to go when he got there.


Carole Elias and Taylor Pierpoint



This could not have been a bigger disaster. Just hours before Carolina Elias was about to leave for her photo shoot for the next edition of Teen Vogue, a terrorist attack trapped her inside for the rest of the day. Taylor was with her at the time, luckily, so she wasn't completely alone, but when the streets are filled with hallucinogenic smoke and bodies, it's hard to be in a good mood. At this point, Carole just wanted to leave, but the photographer promised her that he would reschedule somewhere safer and would get on the phone with a few friends of his to get her in Playboy within the next few months.

Taylor, of course, thought this was absolutely ridiculous. The moment that Carole told her with excitement that the photographer promised to get her in Playboy, Taylor was once again reminded of the true measure of Carole's utter narcissism. "I understand that you like it when people look at you, cherie," Taylor said "but do you really want your breasts in magazines and on web pages all across the world?" Apparently, Carole's answer was yes.

The two friends were now in Knightdale Rows, sitting at a cafe by the beach. Both were wearing two-piece swimsuits under cover-ups of some sort, and one of Taylor's sandals hung off of the edge of her toes as she looked at the menu. Carole's Versace swimsuit was a bright scarlet, and she had the cover-up lowered below her shoulders. She had done this after she noticed a very attractive boy sitting a few tables over gazing at her, and occasionally she stole fleeting glances at him from over her Tom Ford sunglasses. Taylor sighed.

"Isn't he adorable?" Carole muttered to Taylor, trying to make it seem like she wasn't talking about the boy who was staring at her.

"Unless he has a twin brother, I'm not interested," Taylor replied, sipping at her cappuccino. Carole hadn't touched her iced tea since she had first spotted the boy. As a joke, Taylor froze it solid to see if she would notice. Thus far, she had not. After another minute or so of Carole having a staring contest with her boy, she got up and walked over to him. Taylor sighed and, paying the bill, walked out across the boardwalk to the beach. She sat down on a bench and crossed her left leg over her right. She could be waiting here for a long time.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Luminous Beings
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Luminous Beings Not Greg.

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Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by SepticGentleman
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SepticGentleman 𝙼𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎

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Carl Semken
@Maxx


Yes.” Carl replied to Sam, making his way over to the KINGFISHER’s company. “Corner Reserve right? I’m feelin’ it.”

Carl and Sam weren’t old friends. They’d actually only met a day or so prior, at the headquarters’ firing range. Once they did meet though and got to a long while of chatting, they buddied up pretty quick. They were both meta, they were both Texas born, and they both held an appreciation of conventional firearms, hence their place of meeting. They talked about each other’s powers for a bit, comments passing over between “hey you ever go invisible and check out ladies in high school” and “you ever look at yourself in the mirror and use one of your meme things to get your flow going”.The notion that Sam was the stealthier one was pretty set in stone, Carl taking no interest in attempting to prove his sense of subterfuge. He didn’t even have one.

The two seemed like they got along well. Enough to go out drinking in the same party, at lease. And the Corner Reserve was a long time mainstay of Carl’s life in Verthaven.



Veronica Marlowe



She’d slept for a while. Veronica slowly awoke, eyes a little watery, neck a little sore. She rotated her shoulder, looking down at her lap to see the undone cloth, sitting there with no little crimson child inside. She shut her eyes a bit, and felt her mind walk away. To a little further down the cistern. To Red.

Red.

Red was the largest child. Red was the strongest and the most durable. Red could fend off passersby in the sewers by roaring at them, and he could kill them with his bare hands. Red was the defender. Red was the protector. Red was near and dear to his mother’s heart. They shared minds. Not that Red had much of one on his own, but still.

As Veronica’s vision left her own eyes and transferred to Red’s, she felt herself standing in the goliath’s body. Her feet in his, walking back through the cistern, peering past the corner and beholding his birthplace. Red knelt down and simply stared at her. Though he possessed the least developed brain amidst Veronica’s children, he still possessed his own little shred of instinct. This was the mother. This was the life giver, time and time again. He knew protecting her was his purpose for which he was birthed. He let her take the reigns over his actions as she desired, and while she was awake, he stood close by on his own. He was the guardian. He was the sentinel. He was the first and last line of defense.

He stood, and turned. He watched the cistern closely, waiting for potential assailants. They both watched, eyes melded, thoughts shared, being contorted. And they waited.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Morden Man
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The Worthy Household
Union-Point Hills


For the first time in months James had returned to the Worthy household for a meal. They had been extending invitations to him on a near weekly basis since he had moved out shortly after graduating from Academy 12 but it was rare that he found the time. It was something he felt bad about. His grandfather Robbie Worthy had been a father to him when his own father had abdicated any and all paternal responsibilities at birth, he’d helped mould him into a man, but James never was any good at showing his gratitude. It was his girlfriend Iris that had finally heaved enough pressure on him to relent and make the journey to Union-Point Hills to see his grandparents. His grandmother Veronica had been ecstatic when she had heard he was coming, even more so once she found out that Iris was accompanying him.

They had been together for a little over six months. James wasn’t sure whether it was going to go the distance as some of his friends seemed convinced it would, but he felt comfortable with Iris in a way that he hadn’t done with other girls. They shared interests and it never felt like work when he was with her and that counted for a lot. It wasn’t any girl that he would take to meet his grandparents. He had tried his best on his way there to explain to Iris what his grandparents were like, what Robbie was like especially, but not long after they had arrived and conversation had turned to the recent Fiend attack he wished he’d spent a little more time explaining. It wasn’t exactly an appropriate topic for discussion at the dinner table but when had that ever stopped Robbie before?

“Prison is too good for people like that. You’ve got to put a bullet in their brains before it gets there. You put them on the stand and all you’re doing is giving them a platform to spread whatever bile it is they believe. No, I say you put them down hard and send a message to all of the rest of the scumbags out there.”

James shook his lead a little as he looked up from his plate of food. Though his grandfather was completely oblivious to the bemusement in his eyes as he looked at him, it was clear as day to both Iris and Veronica.

“Due process exists for a reason.”

“You would say that,” Robbie said with a smile. “Your generation is too liberal for its own good. God knows what state this country is going to be in when you’re in change. What do you think we should do? Hug the Fiends to death? Talk to them about their feelings?”

Veronica smiled disarmingly in the hopes of diffusing what she feared would be another vocal difference of opinion between her husband and her grandson. She had endured plenty of them over the years. They were never violent, nor was there ever even the slightest hint of dread, but they did often make for uncomfortable viewing from the outside.

“Can’t we just have dinner once without it turning into this? I’m sure Iris doesn’t want to hear the two of you arguing.”

Iris smiled politely as she pushed a strand of her silken ginger hair behind her ear with one of porcelain white hands.

“It’s fine, honestly.”

Robbie smiled and pointed at Iris with a chicken wing in his hand.

“See? She’s a big girl, she understands there’s nothing wrong with a little robust discussion. So tell us, James, what would you have us do instead? You still haven’t answered me.”

Again the look of bemusement crept over the face of James Bishop as he weighed up how futile the discussion they were having was. For over a decade he had engaged in discussions like this with his grandfather where he bent over backwards to provide him with empirical evidence, with fact, in the hope of changing his mind. It never worked. Robbie’s politics, Robbie’s whole being, was rooted in a completely nonfactual existence. It was about the gut feeling, instinct, a more primal sense of right and wrong. It wasn’t something that James could empathise with but he knew better than to concede entirely or he’d never heard the end of it.

“I’m an architect,” James said with a sigh. “It’s not my job to decide our country’s counterterrorism policy and I wouldn’t presume to second guess the people who are responsible for it. All I know is that I’d sooner not have some innocent man or woman gunned down because VPD are gunning for retribution.”

Robbie stared at James for a few moments as if weighing up a response.

“Hmpfh.”

He was unsatisfied by his grandson’s response, clearly, but he looked down at his food and continued eating instead of continuing their debate. It was the first time that James could remember it happening and from the look on Veronica’s face it was clear that she was surprised too. Maybe he’d sensed he had stepped over the line, maybe it was because Iris was there, or maybe an old dog could learn new tricks. Either way James was happy enough not to have to continue the discussion.

James and Iris stayed for an hour more and discussion moved onto less divisive subjects like work. His grandparents had asked him how things were going as they were obliged to do and James had obliged them with his usual response. Towards the end his grandparents had thought it amusing to bring out some pictures of James as a young boy, clad in a black turtleneck, a tartan waistcoat, and a gold chain, which he had unsurprisingly found far less amusing than Iris had. As they left he had promised them that he would visit again soon and that he wouldn’t leave it so late next time and they had urged him to bring Iris along. Something she seemed quite pleased about.

*****

Knightdale Rows

James stepped out of the car and shut the door behind him, waiting for his girlfriend to make her way around the car to his side before the pair set off down the road. Parking was terrible in this part of Knightdale Rows and they often had to leave the car a few blocks away from their apartment building. Whoever had planned this part of town had done a pretty bad job of it. Luckily for them though the walk was a fairly pleasant one outside of having to pass through a narrow underpass that seemed to attract vagrants from time to time. Though more often than not the strong VPD presence in the district made sure they were fairly well behaved.

“I’m sorry about back there,” James said with a shake of his head. “Sometimes it’s a little hard to slam the brakes on Robbie once he gets going.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

“I know, I guess after everything they’ve done for me, his being like a second father to me after my mom passed away, it takes a little getting used to, how crotchety he’s got in his old age. He never used to be like this.”

“I understand,” Iris said, smiling as she walked. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about your family, James, we all have uncles, aunts, and grandparents that lose their filter as they get older. I had a good time, the food was nice, and your family seemed lovely, Robbie included.”

James smiled tenderly.

“Thank you.”

As they reached the underpass, Iris reached for her boyfriend’s hand and squeezed it a little as she returned his smile. When James looked up he noticed a man dressed in rags that were visibly hanging off of him stepping into the underpass at the over end. As he grew closer it became clear he had a gun pressed in his hand that as trained on the couple. Bishop placed Iris behind him and his eyes locked onto the gun in the man’s hand as he approached them.

“The purse.”

James could feel it. The gun in the man’s hand spoke to him as he drew closer to them. He only had three bullets, including the one in the chamber, but outside of that he didn’t have any metals on him. He could stop the bullet leaving the barrel but there was a chance the gun might blow up in the man’s hand and take it with him. For as angry as James was at having been threatened he could tell by the look of the man he was doing this out of desperation more than anything else. Slowly James lifted his hand and placed it in the air between him and the would-be robber facing him.

“You don’t want to do this.”

He could stop the bullet. He knew that much. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it but it would be the first time in a long time. It had been nearly two years since he’d even tried. What if he was a millisecond too late or too early? He couldn’t risk Iris getting hurt somehow, he’d never forgive himself if she did.

“You try anything funny and I’ll kill the both of you. You hear me?”

It spoke to him. He couldn’t explain it to anyone if he tried but his powers, his ability to manipulate metals, it wasn’t controlled and dispassionate, it was emotional somehow. He didn’t command the metals to do things, he asked them, and they complied. For a second James considered slapping the weapon from the man’s hand using his powers or hitting him in the back of the head, but he could feel Iris shaking with fear behind him. It wasn’t worth it.

Without a slight movement of his hand James flicked the safety on the man’s weapon on and reached for his girlfriend’s bag and tossed it in the man’s direction. It landed short of him by a foot or so and the man bent to pick it up, his weapon still trained on James and Iris as he did so, before backing away slowly.

“Clever man.”

The man scampered away down the alleyway with the purse in hand. James turned to his girlfriend, took her in his arms, and planted a gentle kiss on her head as she clung to him. He could have stopped that man, he could have taken his hand from him, or even let him shoot and sent the bullets flying back at him. He could have killed him for threatening him, for threatening the woman he loved, but he chose not to. And though it might not seem like it there was some kind of victory in that. At least he thought there was.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Mixtape Ghost N
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Mixtape Ghost N SOMETIMES EVЕN RICH NIGGAS GET LOST

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Jennifer Caspin & Meifeng Vuhong
@ToadRopes@Maxx


Looks like Ratchet came too. Jennifer quickly stepped over to Ratchet and handed her the bottle of lemonade. She awkwardly started scratching behind her neck, laughing quietly. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine." Jennifer chirp. "... It's... kind of embarrassing, really." She added on, in some attempt to cover her own ass to get them to stop talking about it.

Since the water bottle was empty, Meifeng shrugged and threw the bottle into the trash can. It went right in. Looks like those years of playing basketball are starting to pay off. She grinned, as she put her hands behind her head. ... Alright, alright, Jen. I'll only tell all of Facebook about it. Hehe... She teased Jen.

"C'mon, Feng," Jenny immediately turned toward Meifeng, and started off. "That isn't cool."

You don't even know what cool is. Meifeng thought to herself, as she shrugged. Now, now, they're getting a little off track, aren't they? They're supposed to be getting some grub, and Ratchet seemed to have all the right ideas! But, she suggested a chain restaurant. Alright, alright, Meifeng knows that Ratchet isn't from around here, but if she was visiting Verthaven, she would try some of the local cuisine. And Verthaven had lots of it. Eh, she's getting a little off track here herself. Food's food, and she was getting a little hungry herself. Meifeng shrugged, and smirked again. Asking (rhetorically), "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!" She had to resist the urge to break out into a sprint, and instead, she walked in the direction that Ratchet was pointing. Heaving the gym bag full of her items over her shoulder.

The three girls moved as a group, hoping to quickly get some food before it gets too late. There's plenty of beach, and plenty of things to do. Meifeng thought about surfing, with her water manipulation- she heard someone hauling ass, getting closer and closer. Meifeng quickly turned around, only to get shoved by a running passerby. Nearly flying into Jennifer.

"Hey!" Jennifer shouted, as she caught Meifeng by the shoulders, and looked confused as all hell.

Jen fortunately stopped Meifeng from hitting the ground... and she took a moment to realize that she wasn't holding her gym bag anymore. "Shénme?!" Meifeng shouted (In Chinese). She quickly looked ahead to see some dusty looking motherfucker running off with her gym bag! What the fuck?! Oh no you didn't... That was something that Meifeng simply wouldn't stand by and take. She pointed her hands at him, and began to draw a little bit of water out of her pocket dimension....

(inb4 Taylor)


Maxine Mariah Carter
@He Who Walks Behind


"Well, looky here," Maxine said, as a wide grin formed on her face. "A fellow opportunist, ha!" She followed it up with laughter. For a second, Maxine wondered why Lynn was down here - she usually hung around Eaglerock Row - but then she realized that she was here for the same reasons. Hell, the bitch was more hardcore than she was by a longshot. Maxine would hate to get on her badside (Because she was super useful). While Maxine was trashing people's cars, and tearing out a bitch's hair outside a club, Lynn was out beasting. Running drugs, and beating somebody's brain in. Not that she was jealous, or trying to spark a dick measuring contest. Maxine didn't want to do this. "Heh, you know it, the Asian food around here that's close to good is overpriced, and what I can afford is shitty. So, hey, why bother?" Maxine put her hand on her hip, and looked down at Lynn, and wondered if she knew about the rumors of what the Fiends are packing. Though, Lynn mentioned what happened at the Fair, and Maxine had to agree. "Yeah, those Fiend fuckers are crazy as hell. I hope the feds take their asses off the street - because, less competition would be great, eh?" Maxine looked around at a moment, and noticed an Asian guy... he looked slightly familiar. She never caught his name, but she knew that he was with a small time gang. Yellow... something? Didn't remember their name - but she knew they hung around here from the last time she showed up around here.

Whatever they called themselves, they were close to Fiend territory as they get. It was here or Eaglerock Row, asking the Red Crowns... No offense to the neighborhood Lynn repped, but Maxine would rather get some solid leads. Not get fetishized by the Red Crowns (Last time she came over there, her ass got grabbed at least five times). So, yeah, she'd rather deal with Chinatown's riff raff, than Eagle-Rocks. But, Maxine needed to get back on track. She needed to find out about this Power-Serum that the Fiends may or may not have. Hell, even if it's a baseless rumor, Maxine would rather find out for herself. Because she won't be losing anything. She'll be right back on corners dealing drugs to over-privileged Hipsters. And, the fact that the Fiends aren't going to be around for long, honestly. With the Feds weighing down on them, it won't be a matter of time until they start loosing ground. They had Union Point Hills and the Iron District underneath their heel for ages. Now? As the Fiends lose their turf, the other gangs are going to start moving in to fill in the space (Even forcing out the rest of the Fiends). First gang she thought of trying would be the Highway Stars, while they owned the Highways, Union Point Hills, and the Iron District had a fuckload of chop shops. The Iron Cross would move in too. She didn't know if the Red Crowns would (Too far away from their main turf, but it's not even improbable for them to try), the Good Magic Family don't want a ghetto, and the White Spiders stuck to themselves (For a moment, Maxine wondered if she could get a job as one of their dancers).

Enough of Verthaven's gang politics. If this score goes through, Maxine won't ever have to give a fuck about Verthaven, or it's people, ever again. She nodded her head, and decided to ask Lynn about it before they went into the Kushi Bar. Maxine leaned in closely, and quietly asked, "So, did you hear about that little rumor about the Fiends selling powers to people?" She looked around, and prayed that nobody had enhanced hearing. She pulled back, and stood straight up, nodding her head. "I'd honestly be surprised if you didn't know about every score from Verthaven to San Diego. Heh." She grinned.


Lihua VuHong



As Lihua collected her notes, she heard Sam suggesting that they head off to a bar. This made Lihua stop, and roll her eyes up into her head. She just told them of several dangerous, and heavily armed, psychopaths, and he wants to go get drinks. For being a KINGFISHER, he sure isn't very dedicated to his job. Lihua here was going to pull her weight around and find out as much as she could about the possible connection between the ISD, and the Fiends. Though, she wasn't going to comment on it - it wasn't her place to openly question the work ethic of other people. Well, at least her own work ethic is so solid that not a soul in this room can stand to her and openly question it without it being completely baseless.

Pressing the files against her chest, Lihua began walking out the door. Though, for a moment, she stopped and pushed her glasses up her nose. She stopped before them for a few moments "Good luck on your assignments." Lihua said to them, nodding her head, in the most neutral tone she could muster. She walked out the doors, and into the halls of the Headquarters. Before she could hear any of them comments. Hmph. Lihua knew that they didn't like her (Not asking her made that evident), and if it wasn't for the fact that they work together, they'd be the bitterest of enemies. However, she wasn't some teenager that worried about the thoughts of her peers. She was too old for that. Long as they stay professional, so will she. And she had no intention of being an instigator. Hmph. Unlike the other people here, she didn't feel particularly bound to NEST by morality, or personal code. She was here because she needed the money to support her two daughters (And she got plenty of it). Nothing more, nothing less. Lihua was professional enough that she was going to keep these sentiments to herself. Lest she wanted to alienate them some more.

For now, if Lihua was going to stay in late, she was going to need to get some food. She did just (internally) criticize Clarke for doing something similar, but she wasn't playing around. Lihua walked around to her office cubicle and placed the files on her desk (She briefly considered checking up on Meifeng, but she'll handle that later), and grabbed her black purse. Before she was right back into the hallways. She stepped into the elevator, and pressed the button for the basement level floor, as two more NEST agents - a blonde-haired female, wearing the NEST armor, and a tall (On her height) male wearing a suit - stepped into the elevator with her, and pressed the button for the first floor. Lihua merely took a step back and let them converse. She had no interest in talking with them. Once the elevator reached the bottom, and the doors opened to reveal the main lobby of the NEST building. A large room made out of a smooth grey concrete (with the NEST logo in the center of the room), with a lobby desk, with several chairs, doors, and halls that lead to other parts of the NEST Headquarters. Lihua watched as the two Agents stepped out of the elevator - this was far from her destination, so she waited for the doors to close and continued her descent.

The doors opened again to reveal the garage. Where, obviously, NEST Agents parked their cars (Whether it's their civilian vehicles, or NEST vehicles). Now, all Lihua has to do is find her spot... She casually strolled over to where her reserved parking spot was. It wasn't long until she found her car, - A Cadillac XTS Luxury Sedan - a gift from her older brother that she greatly appreciated. She pulled the keys out her purse, and pressed the button that unlocked her car. She got into her car, and turned the ignition on. She quickly pulled out of the parking spot, and was well on her way. Lihua approached the gates to outside the garage, and waited for them to open as she pulled out. After another short drive, she was finally to the gates of the Verthaven Headquarters and the gates opened for Lihua to drive off.

Her destination? As odd as it sounded; the Estella Isle. While the Fiends were turning it into a warzone, Lihua wanted to head over to Chinatown for a bit to grab something to eat to bring back to her office. Lihua crossed onto the next isle with ease, and stayed as far away from Union Point Hills as she possibly could (For the Fiend's safety), and drove into the Chinatown district. She found herself a nice garage, and paid to park there. Because like hell if she was going to let a thug break into it. Speaking of which, while Lihua was sitting in her car, she opened her purse for a second, and opened up the secret compartment. Her Glock rested in her purse's holster. Lihua slung the purse over her broad shoulder, and twisted her way out of the car. She began walking out of the garage.

This pseudo-Chinese architecture almost made Lihua spit out in annoyance. This place was just an imitation, dressed up to look like the Asia she knew so dearly... like a cheap hooker. Just disgraceful. At least this place had some good food. Lihua stepped through the crowds of people, and held onto her purse extra tight. She couldn't afford to lose this to a purse snatcher.


Michelle Brianna Gallus
@Maxx


Looks like Michelle's going to be kicking some Fiend ass. She grinned. Looks like she'll really give Khan and her Fiends a run for their money. Even if NEST never takes down a single lieutenant, they can't run an army that isn't there. Michelle stood straight up, and stepped out of her chair. She walked over to the door, and was about ready to step out, when Sam called her. She picked it up well with her hearing, so she stopped, and turned right around to face Sam. Now, now... he wants to go drinking with her? Now that was surprising. Usually, other NEST Agents didn't bother her (Out of fear, or dislike - didn't matter to Michelle), and she went to the gym to work out. Now? Sam wants to take her out for drinks. Michelle walked over to Sam, with a toothy grin on her face.

"Wanna take the Amazon out for a drink, eh?" Michelle asked him, with her hands on her hips. "Sure thing... but it'll take a lot to get me drunk. Like an entire keg."
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Sam Clarke and Rafael Davila


@He Who Walks Behind
@SepticGentleman
@Mr Allen J


Bitch, Sam thought to himself as Lihua glared over at him. That girl was just as bad as Rafael, always doing work and never taking a little time to have fun. Everyone seemed good to go, so Sam started for the door, with the others behind him. As he walked, he cast a backward gaze at Nightingale. She sure had a pretty smile. He couldn't tell who the smile was directed at, though. He thought back to his wife in Mendel. He wondered how she was doing, how Little Sammy was. He wondered if Bravo had eaten the stupid neighbor's cat yet. He shrugged and led the group through the halls of NEST and through the side doors (he dared not go out of the front in case Rafael hadn't dispersed the media yet.

Speaking of the devil, Rafael passed the group just as they left the building into the alley. As he walked past them, he sighed loudly and sipped at his coffee. He caught sight of Sam, and cast him a death glare.

"Evening, Director," Sam said as he passed. "Did CNN piss off yet?"

"Yeah, I got rid of them," Rafael replied. "Try not to break any necks when you go out."

"Can't make any promises," Sam shot back. Rafael sighed and walked inside. KINGFISHER was a media nightmare. Everywhere they went, they raised Hell, and they were known to be the most brutal government agency. He walked inside and through the halls swiftly. The Department of Media Relations was on the sixth floor. He paused for a brief moment in front of the steps, and then took the elevator to the third floor. He walked out of the elevator, past his secretary's desk, and into his office. Then Rafael crashed down in his leather armchair.

Being the Director of Media Relations, Rafael got a nice corner office that looked out towards the Island of Providence. It was a well-furnished room, with a bookshelf and filing cabinets across from a heavy mahogany desk that had an iMac on it. The walls were painted a dark mahogany color, and were decorated with framed press clippings and diplomas. A Picasso was framed near the bookshelf. A small cactus in a terra cotta pot sat on the window sill. Rafael sighed and stared out at the ocean. Boy, did he wish he was out on the water on a day like this. His secretary stood at the door.

"Excuse me, sir," she said "Bryan Williams from NBC is on the phone. He wants to interview Director Caryl."

"Ask him why he's not in a helicopter over Iraq," Rafael replied. The secretary smiled and walked back to her desk and picked the phone back up.

"My apologies, Mr.Williams," she said "Mr.Davila is not in right now. May I take a message?"




The Corner Reserve was a small corner restaurant and bar one block down from the NEST HQ. It was a rustic looking bar, an obvious hipster joint, with brick walls and specials of the day written on a chalkboard behind the counter. Multicolored champagne flutes hung from the ceiling, and the lights filtered through them to fill the place with soft color. A few flatscreen TVs sat around the restaurant, currently showing news from around the city. A large keg barrel at the front of the restaurant read "The Corner Reserve" in white block letters. Soft indie rock played on the restaurant's speakers. As it was not yet five, the place was mostly empty, and the NEST crew had no problems getting seats at the bar. Sam sat down between Nightingale and Carl. The bartender, who looked like a Starbucks barista with a beard, walked up and greeted him. Though Sam was no hipster, he was a regular at this place.

"Afternoon guys," the bartender said, walking over and shaking Sam's hand. "How are you guys doing today. Our special today is our Diablo Verde craft ale, brewed in-house with jalapenos added in to give it some nice round heat. It's really good if you like spicy stuff."

"I'll have a Yuengling and an order of the barbecue wings," Sam said. The bartender walked down the line and began to take the agents' orders.


Taylor Pierpoint



Taylor decided to lay down on the beach. She rolled out a towel from inside her Gucci purse, took her cover-up off, and laid down, putting her hands under her head. She looked up at the sun. Boy, was it a nice day. Taylor was wearing one of those floppy straw-colored hats, the kind you see people wear to the beach often, and it cast the perfect shade over her eyes. She was just beginning to sleep when she heard a shout from the boardwalk.

A man was running down the boardwalk with a duffel bag in his hand, and from the shouts she could tell that it certainly wasn't his. Without getting up, Taylor took a bottle of water out of her bag and opened it. As it flowed out, the water froze midair. With a wave of her hand, Taylor covered the entire stretch of boardwalk in a sheet of ice. The crook, who didn't notice that the ground below him had become a slip n' slide, slipped and fell onto his face, cracking the ice. Taylor got up from her towel and walked over to him.

"Ne prends pas ce qui ne votre pas, bastard," she said, crouching down and picking up the bag. He moved to grab her, but two chains of ice shot out of the sheet and wrapped around his wrists, restraining him. What surprised Taylor is that the source of this ice did not come from her water bottle, but from somewhere else nearby. She looked over her shoulder and picked up the duffel bag.

"Is this yours?" she asked Jen.
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SepticGentleman 𝙼𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎

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Carl Semken and Sam Clarke

(Collab between Maxx and SepticGentleman)

@Mr Allen J@He Who Walks Behind


"Shock Top summer." Carl issued as his drink, "Oh and uh... kids are coming home from soccer practice tonight. Yeah." The bartender nodded with a bit of a smirk, and he continued down the line.

"That sounded suspiciously like a secret code," Sam said as the bartender placed the beer in front of him.

"Heh." Carl responded, nodding a bit. "Long-running thing, uh..." He took a glance in the other direction, then turned back and whispered to Sam, "You play poker?"

"Every once in a while," Sam replied. "Why?" He took a drink of his beer and looked up at the TV. CNN was on, and it was showing Rafael's interview. Sam wasn't a fan of the pompous asshole, but he sure was good at his job.

"Well some of the "parents" like to "buy dinner" for the "kids" when they "come home". Sometimes it's cheap shit, other times... you get the picture." Sam picked up on the code and smirked.

"I see."

"Heh, yeah." Carl's drink arrived, and he took a sip through his lips. Wherever they were, behind the static. "Bring your kids. It'll be fun." He took a look up at the interview going on and shook his head a bit. "Fuckin' Fiends. This is one big joke."

"Joke's got one hell of a punchline if you ask me," Sam said, looking up at a scene from the attack. "I'll tell you, man, I've fought a lot of pretty powerful metas back in Mendel, but they're nothing like these guys. We need to stomp them out ASAP before more people get hurt."

"I know. Biggest thing for me besides this was a technopath up in Seattle. Dealing with that chickenshit was the worst fucking thing because the NEST branch there is so... thin. At least, the amount of metas available to go on ops." He took another sip and watched the television some more. "At least here there's a suitable force. What is it, one percent meta? Nine-thousand-something? That's fuckin' high."

"Yeah, this city's crawling with them," Sam said. "Thousands. More than Mendel or Black Fall." At that moment, the front door opened and CONDOR walked in from a phone call. He put the phone away in a pocket in his jacket and looked up at Sam.

"Just got off of the phone with EAGLE," CONDOR said. "KINGFISHER is sending reinforcements to help us take down the Fiends."

"Awesome!" Sam replied. "Who are they sending?"

"RAVEN and SUNBIRD," CONDOR replied. "They were going to send more, but there's been a flareup in Vanguard activity." CONDOR sat down to the right of Carl.

"We should be fine. Five KINGFISHER agents is plenty." He looked back up at the TV. More coverage of Verthaven. Sam groaned. "Hey, bartender," he said "can you put the Rangers game on." The bartender nodded and changed the channel on the remote. The Texas Rangers were playing the Baltimore Orioles. It was the start of the second inning, and the Rangers were up by one.

"Fuckin' KINGFISHER." Carl piped up, "Little I heard, sounds like the best branch in NEST."

"Well we have a lot more liberty than most government agencies do," CONDOR said. "We also have the highest rate of death on the job, though. We get sent into all of the nasty places. Mendel, Stadium City, now Verthaven." The bartender walked over to CONDOR. He ordered the special.

"Still, wouldn't mind a shot myself one day. So far it's been too spare around the west coast, but this Fiend thing just came rushin' in." Another sip. "What, uh, would be the status on name availability? Just birds, right?"

"The bird thing was an idea that the boss came up with," Sam said. "Prevents our enemies from finding out our identities if they find any important papers or something. But yeah, it's birds. I'm FALCON, he's CONDOR, the boss is EAGLE, she's NIGHTINGALE," he gestured to Anastasia. "The comm guy is ALBATROSS."

"Ah." Carl replied, "So, uh... if I joined, whaddya think I'd be?" Sam and Condor exchanged glances. Both smirked.

"Definitely KINGFISHER BOOBY." Sam said, trying hard not to laugh.

"Ha-ha, yeah, fuck you too."



Veronica Marlowe (Red)

@Maxx


The cistern wasn't the largest under the city, but that was for the best. Smaller meant it was easier to patrol and defend. The stagnant little pool in the center wasn't too deep, but it was enough for Red to hold someone down and drown them. The cistern was constructed in a cross formation, with two lower tunnels, one upper tunnel, and the little enclave on the fourth end that housed Veronica. It was never pleasant, and most likely never would be. But the surface, to her, wasn't the better option. She couldn't face people anymore. Too much time spent traveling. Too many close encounters. Too many-

A thud. Came from one of the lower tunnels.

Veronica perked up, looking at Red. The hulking brute turned and headed for the tunnel, not passing the corner. He peeked his head a little out of the way to see that someone had dropped down from one of the above manholes. A sickly man, with a mask. Almost immediately, another man jumped down and joined him. Then four more figures, and two... glassy things.

A sense of fear arose in Veronica, but it was quickly replaced by an intense rage within Red. The brute turned the corner, looking down and over at the group of trespassers, opened its mouth, and roared.
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Jennifer Caspin & Meifeng Vuhong
@ToadRopes@Maxx


Well, Meifeng wasn't really thinking about how, or even why, this... gym bag snatcher, tripped and suddenly found himself bound in ice. Yet, the only thing that came to mind was running up to him, and start kicking his ass. She brought her leg back, and slammed the ball of her foot right into him, several times. "That's what you get, bastard!" Meifeng shouted at the man, until she stopped kicking him. Whatever happens to him, it's none of her concern. She was going to grab that bag of hers and... It was gone. "Huh?" Greeeeeeeeeeeat.... Someone else just grabbed her gym bag. Ugh. Nothing of real value in there, just a change of clothes, and her volleyball. Which was more sentimental than anything. Meifeng crossed her arms, and sighed. She looked back to her group, to see some white girl holding her gym bag. Meifeng raised an eyebrow as she couldn't.

What? The water coming out of bloody nowhere did not go unnoticed. Nor did it freezing into a sheet of ice. That water... it came from Meifeng. Jennifer watched as Meifeng ran over to the man to kick him. Does, does... does this mean...? Meifeng's a Metahuman? Jennifer thought to herself. There was no other explanation. Water doesn't come from no where unless it's raining. Plus, Meifeng mentioned she started going to a school on the Isabella Isle, and didn't say what. That could mean Academy 12. And, she's always drinking water.... Jennifer hunkered down for a moment, putting her fingers on her chin as she thought about it.

"Is this yours?"

Of course, Jennifer was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't realize the girl walking up to her. Jennifer looked up, and saw that the girl was kinda hot, if she had to be honest. Small frame, blonde-hair, blue eyes, sexy French accent, nice bikini... almost a bit like herself, but better looking. She thought that she was standing before a model. Wait. Jen saw her at the corner of her eye, she was doing that hand motion thing before the ice attack happened. Was that... "Um, no, that's my... my friend's." Jennifer said, trying to mention Meifeng. But she couldn't get it out.

"... I'll be taking that." Meifeng said, taking the gym bag from Taylor, and slinging it over her shoulder. "Thanks for grabbing that..." She was trying to ask for a name, but she looked Taylor down for a moment. And Meifeng wondered if anyone prettier could have came to get her bag... Heh.

When Meifeng walked up, Jennifer finally got the boost in confidence she needed to say it. She pointed at Meifeng, then at Taylor. "You're a... Metahuman. Both of you are." She just blurted it out, and it was directed at both of them. "Using your powers in public... and you never told me, Meifeng."

"Ooooooh, yeah, that?" Meifeng looked around, and put her hands up. Christ! Looks like the jig is up. "I was planning on telling you, but I didn't know how to say it."


Michelle Brianna Gallus
@Maxx


Coming soon...
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Taylor Pierpoint



So one of the girls was a meta too. Taylor looked over at the Asian girl and found her to be quite ungrateful. She frowned and looked at the girl. Maybe she was jealous. Taylor crossed her arms across her chest as the girl snatched the duffel bag. Something told Taylor that she and this girl weren’t going to be friends. Still though, if summoning water from a pocket dimension was all she could do, then she had a pretty whimpy power. Only time would tell what she would be able to do with that water. Taylor looked back over at the other girl. She seemed afraid.

"You're a... Metahuman. Both of you are. Using your powers in public... and you never told me, Meifeng." Taylor smirked cockishly. Whenever someone mentioned how freakish metas were, Taylor could always feel eyes stabbing at her from all around. This time, it was somewhat valid. Beachgoers were standing in awe. The ones who weren’t were probably metahumans or NEST agents. Taylor was used to it, though, and she had come to accept that some saw her as a freak.

“Ah, but ma cherie,” she said “Why would I ever hide my powers?” The sheet of ice shot off of the ground and began to circle Taylor as snow (the ice chains stayed. Much to the chagrin of the robber, the chains were frozen around two slats of the boardwalk). “I’m not afraid; I spent years perfecting my powers. No one will hurt me for using them.” The snow gathered itself into an orb above her hand and then took the shape of a giant snowflake. The snowflake glowed in the sunlight and began to slowly rotate in Taylor’s hand. Taylor smiled; she loved showing off.

“My name is Taylor, by the way,” she said. “Taylor Pierpoint, same as the fashion designer. Why? Because he is my father.”


PLAGUE



Plague and his men could hear shouts from behind them as they ran through the next building. The crashing of glass told him that men had roped in onto the second floor. As they clambered through the hole in the wall, they were joined by two more Fiends, who followed them into the next condemned rowhouse. Plague normally would’ve killed them right there, but he knew he’d eventually need some meatshields. The seven ran across the second level of the next house to a hole in the floor. Roark and Byon slid the plywood back and lowered down Plague. Then each member jumped down. They ran across the first floor of the next house. Here, the gaping hole was behind the shower. They climbed a ladder in the next one and walked through a massive cavern of collapsed drywall. As they ran through, gunfire came from below. One of the three phages exploded and its remnants crashed to the ground. One lone soldier had followed them through their maze. One of the two Fiends collapsed and fell back into the hole. As the soldier went to reload, Daniel stepped out and shot him in the head with his pistol. They walked through and arrived in the next building.

Now they were trapped. This was the last building in the row. Desperately, Plague looked around for a way to escape. He could hear the whirring of sirens and the beating of helicopter rotors from outside. It couldn’t end like this. The Chosen took positions around the room, prepared for a fight to the death. Daniel knelt down and placed another rocket in his RPG.

“I don’t suppose you have any ideas, do you?” Daniel said. Then Plague thought of it.

“Follow me,” Plague said.

They ran down the steps down to the first floor, and walked to the door to the basement. It was locked. Roark kicked it down. They ran down the steps and to where the washing machines were. By this time, Plague was wheezing through his mask. Daniel put Plague’s arm around his shoulders and supported them to the wall. Daniel knelt down with the RPG, and the others cleared the way. He fired it at the crumbling wall, and it gave way. Once their ears stopped ringing and the rubble stopped falling, there stood a hole in the wall large enough to provide entrance to one person at a time. The hole led down to the sewers below via a crawl space next to the water pipes. One by one, the Fiends lowered themselves down and found themselves in one of the cisterns under Union Point Hills.

As the last Fiend lowered himself to the floor of the cistern, Daniel took another detonator from his pocket. As he hit the button, a bottle of clorox sitting on the stairs of the last building exploded. It collapsed the steps and then splattered burning-hot homemade napalm over the walls, setting a massive fire. Just as Plauge stood triumphantly in his victory, a deafening roar came from the other end of the sewer. Plague turned to see a gigantic red monster lumbering towards him. He looked to his other Fiends.

“Kill it,” he said. Roark and Byon grabbed their guns and opened fire. Daniel reached for his handgun and joined them. The two remaining phages pounced and tore at the red monster’s flesh, digging their probosci into its shoulders. The other Fiend charged, a circular saw in his hand.
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Aiden Cross



"Well then, you're a bit of a show off, ain'tcha."

Aiden walked up to the group wearing a hoodie, some worn looking jeans, and sneakers. He had been taking a walk down the Crystal shore when he saw this blonde chick take down some guy who had stolen another girl's sport's bag. Then there seemed to be a kind of confrontation between the two or something because suddenly the ice girl decided to surround herself in a flurry of snow, hence why Aiden chose to call out. It obviously had nothing to do with how cool he thought her power was and how envious he was feeling that brought about such a childish reaction from him. That would be ridiculous.

"Not only must you show everyone your abilities, but you also have to drop names as well. As if people are going to give two shits that you're dad's some glorified tailor, who's greatest contributions to the world is making people pay outrageous amounts of money for stupid shit." At this point he had walked right up to the girl, and was towering over her by quite the margin, his reptilian blue eyes staring down at the girl in challenge. Normally, he wouldn't even dream of talking to someone like her, but when he saw such blatant shows of power, his instincts pushed him forward to match it and dominate the competition. "Tell me, Taylor, what has your father, and you for that matter, done that really makes a difference in anyone's life? I really doubt you can come up with anything that really counts, but hey, maybe you'll prove me wrong."

The smug smile on his face, made slightly more intimidating due to the mouthful of shape teeth, made it clear what he really thought. He was just waiting to see what the petite cryokinetic would do. As he waited, he reached into his pocket to pull out a small ziplock bag filled with little balls of gold, silver, and steel. He took a handful and popped them in his mouth, taking his time to savor the flavor as he pocketed the rest of his snacks.
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Aleksander Volkov



"Lihua,' A voice called through the crowd, just a hint of accent present in his speech. The big man made his way through the crowd, waving a bandaged right arm at his co-worker. Alek's hair and eyes were currently a dull orange, which signified when he was feeling pleasantly surprised. He was wearing a black T-shirt, jeans, and combat boots. "Nice to see you here, mind if I join you on what I assume is your lunch break."

@Mr Allen J
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Jin Saito

The Crystal Shores, The Isabella Isle.

Ah. The beach. The cheery sun above everyone's head, the warm sand between the toes, the spray of the ocean on the skin of the young, innocent public. Jin's time on the beach couldn't have been greater. Getting a tan, watching the waves, sneaking a peek at the occasional sunbathing babe. The only way he could be more at ease was if he was getting a massage for this headache he was getting right now. Jin looked over his towel, all spread out on the sand and found his phone among his backpack and flip-flops. It was only a second for him to pick it up, flip through it and pick out a phone number to dial. A massage sounded nice, and his parents wouldn't mind anyway. 'Family money' and all. It only took a second for him to hear the familiar voice on the other end. "Welcome to Calm Sands Remedial Massage Clinic. My name is Naomi, how can I help you?"

"Hey Naomi, its Jin." The voice on the other end was calm, lilting. Like a woman made of silk was on the other end. "Good afternoon, Mr. Saito. Glad to hear from you again." He almost chuckled into the receiver, still so professional after this many appointments. "Yeah, yeah. Just wanted to get the usual. Head and neck, maybe around... 6ish?" He spoke with tone of ease, but also that of slight strain. If not for his sunglasses, the sun might have been burning his non-present retinas out of his skull. Or at least he felt so. Naomi on the other end sighed, "Sir, I'm afraid that we do not facilitate same-day arrangements. At least a day's notice is required." Her tones were measured, but by now Jin knew when she was frustrated. Years of association would do that to a pair of people.

"Come onnnnn, Nohms!" The nickname made her proverbial fur really bristle, but it was what he had called her when he wanted something. "I've got an anchor in my brain and you're like, the ONLY one that knows my spots! Come on. Pleaaaaaaase?" Naomi's distress on the other side was palpable as she lowered her voice to a hush and replied. "You really have to stop doing this, J. I've told you, make an appointment like... a day before, even. I'm not a callgirl!" Jin's hand was already rubbing at his eyes, half-chuckling and half-grimacing. He groaned ineffectually for a moment, sounding like a child who missed their nap. "I never said are! Come on, just do me this favor? I'll pay extra. Double, even."

The line held silent for a moment, before Naomi uttered that familiar grumble of defeat.

"Sorry what was that, Nohms?" He almost laughed through his teeth. She hissed at him and sounded to almost drop the phone. "Okay, fine. Christ, you know I hate when you do this." Jin was picking at one of his toenails as she spoke, mostly not registering the same lecture he got every time they repeated this dance. "Yeah totally, big apologies and all. When do you want me to swing by?" She was silent for a while, as Jin eyed up a pair of blondes treading their way across the sand, waves breaking over their toes. One was tall and slender, with a crazy blue pair of eyes. The other was shorter, but her muscles stood out like an action figure's molded plastic. Crazy. Naomi's voice snapped his attention back, "Did you hear a damn word I said, J?"

"Huh, I... No. I missed it. Dude, these two blondes just walked by. Fuckin'... was tight." Her sigh was more audibly distressed this time before she spoke again, still in that harsh whisper. "I get off work at 7, so meet me outside work. You can wizard me home or whatever that weird shit you do is, so I don't have to walk home in the dark again."

"Oh, yeah for sure, for sure. Pick you up at 7 then, bro." She scoffed, almost laughing before she spat back at him. "Don't call me that. I've told you before. So many t-" She stopped before she reached yelling volume and grumbled. "Ugh, nevermind. Just be here at 7, okay?" Her voice sounded remorseful for a moment, but this didn't seem to register with him.

"Okay thanks Nohms, bye!" He swiped across the screen again, looking to his social media app.

Fiends raiding, Fiends wrecking, Fiends, Fiends, Fiends breaking the U.S. He kept scrolling and scrolling until he- oh damn. That is great. Something going on down at Knightdale Rows? The words 'free refreshments' and 'live band' had him gathering his stuff already. It was an easy thing for him to just head over to the Rows, but considering his head, he would just walk. A hassle, but any more head pain and he probably would end up crying into his mojito by the end of the day. Its happened before. Not a pretty sight. Towel beneath his arm, gear in his backpack and he was ready to move. To walk off the beach with no shirt, board shorts, flip-flops, a flat-visored cap and his aviators.
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