ProPro

Fighting King

@ProPro So, do we make our own characters or take from a fighting game's roster of characters?

@Archmage MC

This is all original. The concept is just inspired by these classic games.

Also, got a banner made for this. Woot!



Exit: Banner 2.0. Woo!

Fighting King

Alright, I think I've got a solid CS for this thing. Just keep in mind that I reserve the right to alter it before the official OOC goes up, since everything is still in its premature stages.

CS

[center][h3][b]Character Name Here[/b][/h3]
[img]Picture here if you have one[/img][/center]
[b]Name:[/b] Their full name
[b]Alias:[/b] If they have any nicknames, titles, or the like
[b]Age:[/b] How old are they?
[b]Nationality:[/b] What country are they from? Let’s try to get diverse here, people!
[b]Gender:[/b] Boy? Girl? Other? Neither?
[b]Appearance:[/b] Pictures are fine and dandy, but I want you to be able to describe them in words.
[b]History:[/b] How has their life gone up until now? Be sure to cover all the major events.

[center][h3][b]Personality[/b][/h3][/center]
[b]Motivations:[/b] What is it that they want? What are they working toward as a larger goal? Feel free to get as creative or as simple as you like.
[b]Sexuality:[/b] Straightforward enough, right?
[b]Likes:[/b] [list][*]At
[*]Least
[*]Three[/list]
[b]Dislikes:[/b] [list][*]At
[*]Least
[*]Three[/list]
[b]General:[/b] An overview of how they act and behave. Try to be thorough, but you don’t have to be too long. One solid paragraph is fine.

[center][h3][b]Fighting Arts[/b][/h3][/center]
[b]Skills:[/b] Non-power, non-combat based skills the character possesses. If they’re particularly gifted in music, or have a silver tongue, a master of deception, etc., put it in here.
[b]Fighting Style:[/b] Describe how they fight here. Feel free to use real martial arts, create your own, mold some sort of hybrid fighting style, whatever. If they have special augmentations or powers, describe that here as well.
[b]Weaknesses:[/b] At least 2 weaknesses this character has that can be exploited in a fight. It can be psychological, physical, a limitation of their style, etc.
[b]Special Techniques:[/b] You get to start with 3 special techniques that are more powerful than the standard fist and foot strikes, which take time and discipline to master. These are your hadoukens, your sonic booms, your shoryukens, etc.
[b]Super Arts:[/b] Your ultimate attacks, the kind of battle technique that takes years to develop, let alone master, which blows all other techniques out of the water. These are the shinku-hadoukens, the shinryukens, and the yoga infernos. You only start with 1.
[b]Exp:[/b] Start with 0. As you progress and earn more Exp, you can buy additional fighting styles, special techniques, and super arts.
[b]Equipment:[/b] Any sort of special equipment your character keeps on hand, such as weapons, armors (no need to include mundane clothes), or any specialized gear.

As for the starting plot, a local business mogul is sick and tired of the cops not being able to clean up the street gangs that plague his hometown, so he reaches out and hires some skilled fighters from around the world to come dish out some street justice. Things will spiral from there.

Fighting King

I should preface this by saying that this is still a rough idea and just a moment of inspiration that hit me early this morning as I was daydreaming. I don't know if I could get around to starting up this game for sure, and definitely not without some strong interest. It would be a pretty casual and lax game as far as how I ran it due to other priorities in life right now. That said, without further ado...

Any fans out there of old school arcade beat'em ups, like Final Fight, Double Dragon, or Turtles in Time? What about classic fighting games Fatal Fury, King of Fighters, or (and let's be real here, the actual king of fighters) Street Fighter? This game is meant to be a throwback to those classics that have become so few and far between in the video gaming market. It would run in two distinct phases: crowd battles, in which you fight waves of enemies as you progress to a goal, and ring battles (may or may not include an actual ring) in which you face down someone else who is a trained fighter of your caliber. Obviously these are meant to evoke the two types of games. As for character options, I want to go full on balls to the wall with this. Want a normal (albeit skilled) street punk with nothing but his fists and his wits? Go for it. A trained operative that integrates technology into their fighting style, a la C. Viper's taser gloves? It's all you. A chi based fighter, throwing out hadoukens and sonic booms? Obviously. What about the undead? A full on cyborg or android? Psychic powers? Magic powers? Yes, yes, yes, and yes, so long as they're low-key enough and mostly operate to enhance your fighting style.

So any questions? Who's interested?

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

The Battle for Denver Begins: For Everyone

At the Airport

The newcomer, who called himself Chivalry, seethed at the ravings of the lunatic on the television monitors. However that righteous anger gave way to something more akin to confusion as the loud sirens suddenly began blaring. The figure on screen seemed to be just as bothered by them as the Jacks who stood around Chivalry. His body language noticeably shifted, less tense and less on guard, and more tilted as though he were trying to make heads or tails of what was going on. Once he had been informed of the most rudimentary basics by the Jacks, he once again appeared to be ready for battle. "A monster is coming to kill us all, you say? Well if I am stuck in this world, I suppose I must defend it as my own." He held up both his blades in a dynamic pose, clearing favoring style and appearance over practicality. Either he did not truly understand the gravity of the situation, or he was an odd bird. "I shall cut down this monster for the safety of all in this new realm! Show me the way, guide me in this foreign city!" The die had been cast. While the horrifically monstrous Doctor Dean was dead and incapable of being any help in this most dire of circumstances, the Jacks did at least recruit one new ally. Maybe he really would be of help against Behemoth?

---

At the Television Station

Patriarch's fingers stopped merely an inch away from Judah's face, so close to touching him, so close to converting him. But he dared not budge another milimeter. The sirens, those damned sirens, they indicated that an Endbringer was coming. The very instant those sirens came on, an official truce was in effect between all parahumans, all heroes and villains, all normal citizens and criminals alike. Violating that truce was an instant death sentence. Even those converted into his own family would not take kindly to him working against others during the impending threat. Damn, those tv cameras were working against him now. He could've converted Mantis then killed him in privacy and been none the worse for wear, but with hundreds of thousands of witnesses...

"Hrm. You got lucky this time." Patriarch turned back to the camera. "The timing couldn't be worse for our fair city, but rest assured people of Denver, the Community will help in every way we possibly can. Marcus, release the prisoner." He gestured off camera, and only seconds later a man came into view, working at the restraints holding Mantis in place. "Yet the I can think of no better circumstance to prove to you all that my way is the right way. Once you see how a unified Denver can protect itself, you will all flock to my family. You will all call me Father by choice. Now let us go, my family. Let us meet at the PRT staging grounds immediately and show everyone what we are made of. DENVER WILL NOT FALL! DEATH TO THE ENDBRINGER!"

With a gesture, the video feed cut out. Patriarch hurriedly charged for the door, flanked by several normal citizens. "Dad, aren't we going to take Mantis with us?" asked Marcus.

"Hell no," shot back the villain as he reached the stairs. "At this point he's only a burden. Leave him and his survival will be up to him."

They all left the building, turning the corner just in time to miss two more figures approaching: Farce and Healer, the remaining members of Lethal Force. With no obstacles blocking their path, they were free to enter the building and find Judah exactly where he had been left, unconscious on the hospital gurney. His equipment was even left in a convenient pile nearby on a desk.

"Mantis!" Healer ran up to him, assessing the multitude of injuries he had taken. He would live as he was, but it was a lot of pain. She placed her hands on his body, and thus the process of her namesake began to take effect. Slowly but surely the wounds disappeared from his body, siphoned away to nobody-knows-where, stored up until she could unload them on some other hapless whelp.

"I won't be able to hold onto these for too long before they start affecting me," she informed. "Finding someone to inflict during the truce will be a bitch. Oh, I think he's waking up." It was then that Judah began to stir.

---

PRT Headquarters: Staging Grounds

Time went by as more and more heroes and villains began to show up just outside the PRT headquarters. The Wards, naturally, were already present. With some assurance from Decoy, they all gathered. Director Kens was notably absent, having been rushed to medical attention by some of the few remaining staff members who weren't already out in the field fighting off the Community. In his place were a few of his junior staff, overseeing the proceedings. They had learned of the situation regarding Protean and Sonar, and regrettably ordered that both be freed in order to take part in the battle against the Endbringer. Solvent for the containment foam was brought in to give Protean his mobility back, and Sonar was untied from his private quarters. Both immediately volunteered to participate in the battle, giving not even a second's hesitation. Their presence would certainly cause some friction among the ranks, but in these desperate times no asset could be denied.

It didn't take long before reinforcements started to appear from all over the world. Most of the arrivals were brought in by Protectorate teleporters, and were Protectorate members themselves, but some villains from elsewhere, and independent heroes also joined the rank and file. Dozens and dozens of capes were arriving, each one directed to take a communication device hand built be Decoy. Over the crowd appeared three instantly recognizable faces: Alexandria, Eidolon, and Legend. The three most powerful heroes in the entire Protectorate, if not the entire world. The three still living founders. The Triumvirate. Household names even to people who knew absolutely nothing about popular capes around the world, and the beacon of hope in this bleak world. With these three on their side, truly they had nothing to fear, right?

Wrong. Legend landed, taking a microphone and began addressing everyone present for a speech, as was his duty as the leader of the entire Protectorate.

“There aren't many times I get to say anything before an attack, but we're short on time so I'll make this quick. You'll be given a communication device, Decoy will be monitoring and keeping up with everything, so if you need directions or help or what have you, use them. I cannot stress this enough, but do not underestimate Behemoth. He's been coming at least once a year since 1993, he's killed almost four hundred capes with experience, powers, and the courage to stand up to him, and he's still here... Get cocky, get overconfident, and you will die. There's a reason he's called the Herokiller. One in three of the fighters will probably die.”

He let the statement stand, looking over the constantly growing crowd as more and more capes arrived.

“Now, if you've been involved with an Endbringer before, step forward. These people? When in doubt, follow their lead. Listen to them. They know what they're dealing with, what they're doing.”

A tremor rocked the ground below Legend, and he picked up the pace.

“If you think you can get close and not be affected by his Kill Aura, group up with Alexandria. If you're a distance attacker, with me. If you can impede his movements, provide cover, or otherwise hinder his actions, go to Eidolon. Search and Rescue efforts go with Inkscape, the local Protectorate leader who knows the lay of the land. If you fall under multiple areas, pick the one you're most confident with. If you can't get close enough by yourself to attack, we can try to arrange something! Communicate!”

Another tremor hit, even stronger than before. Those not prepared would easily stumble over. With an ear-piercing rumble, several buildings a few miles down the road came crashing down. Then a roar bellowed out across the city, loud enough to be heard from anywhere. Loud enough to shatter bones. The forty-five foot appropriately named Behemoth had made his appearance with a crack of lightning utterly demolishing a nearby structure, the thunderclap almost deafening.

World of Light

Courier 6 and Ratchet

Level 4 - (8/40) EXP (+3), Level 3 - (5/30)
Location: Castle Interior
Word Count: 902

Content with the effects of his proximity mine, Ratchet opted to hang back for the time being. With his only available weapon at the moment being his trusted omniwrench, and having nowhere near the size, strength, or durability of that monster, he didn’t want to get in any closer than was absolutely necessary. Besides that, there was already a congestion of firepower from his allies, so it’d just wind up being more trouble than it was worth.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, the Courier was as much in the thick of it as possible, considering he was standing on top of the giant Bowser’s belly and had just pelted the beast’s neck with an impressive amount of buckshot. His balance was thrown off as Mario performed what could only be described as flipping off the rules of physics and momentum, suddenly slamming down hard on megadragonbowser’s belly and cracking the exposed shell. ”Woooah~” he nearly fell from the mighty beast, but recovered. He was about to plug some more shotgun shells into the neck, if only he could regain his firing grip, but that was not to be.

Suddenly the foe exploded, literally, into a flaming hot rage. The Courier rolled with the force along the floor. This technique helped avoid any broken bones and certainly lessened his bruising, but it didn’t help the damage suffered from the initial blast. Fire singed at his duster, his hat had fallen off to who-knows-where, and portions of his skin were burned away. If you looked closely, you could spot his subdermal armor, giving the Courier a sort of shine to him, which reflected the mass of fire blazing from their foe.

He had barely recovered, back up on his feet, when the scene before him changed for the worse. First Gaige’s robot was chomped into pieces, then Gaige herself, blinded by furious rage, splattered into nothing more than red paste. He wanted to yell out, to scream, but he did not. Death, that was all too common where he came from. Usually in a much more painful, horrible manner than this. As far as deaths could go, it was painless and quick, infinitely better than radiation poisoning or getting eaten alive by ghouls. Still, the young girl’s slaughter filled him with rage. But he wasn’t the only one.

Zer0 descended upon the second Bowser in a killing blow, spouting off haiku in honor of his fallen friend… Only to have been rendered completely ineffectual. As Zer0 was casually plucked from the monster’s head, Ratchet bound away from the pillar he was positioned on. ”NO!” he cried out, jetting forward with the aid of Clank, omniwrench in hand, ready to break Bowser’s grip. But he was too late. The assassin was gut like a boar to be roast over a spit.

Ratchet altered his movement, daring not to attack the enemy as things currently stood, his rescue already failed. The Courier grit his teeth and spat out a black tar-like substance, some remnant residue of the various drugs in his system, as rage fueled his body. The flames emanating from this evil king could scorch him, and it would make no difference. He walked the Mojave at the height of summer, through irradiated wastes. This heat definitely beat that, but he was prepared for it. He could brace for it, work through it. It didn’t mean shit.

Still, running in close wasn’t an option. Sturdy as he was, stronger from the buffout, it would still be suicide. Shooting would certainly be harder with that shell, but safer. He took cover near Tora as the mad king Bowser created a shockwave along the ground, pulling out his Ratslayer rifle. In the midst of the shock, 6 activated VATS, effectively slowing time down to a near standstill. Ratslayer. Best accuracy. High chance of critical damage. Targeting exposed eye. Chance to hit: 21%. Not good enough. Changing target to exposed shell cracks. Chance to hit: 51%. Damn, still not good, but it’s the best I’ve got. Enough stamina to queue up 4 shots thanks to jet and buffout. Here’s hoping one of these crits. Good thing I’m a gambling man.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Four shots rang out in quick succession, straight for megadragonbowser. If they hit, there was a chance they could create critical damage. If they missed, they’d harmlessly bounce from the armored shell, completely wasted.

Meanwhile, Ratchet had to smile at himself, proud at what he had done. While their enemy was being all boastful, he’d pulled a fast one, and thanks to Clank in jet form, this shockwave tactic was completely useless. He took a single large jump, propelled much further and faster than usual, right over the tremor. He hung up in the air for a brief moment as the tremor past, then landed next to Tora and the Courier while Clank vanished for the time being.

”Here,” he said, offering something to 6. It was the glowing spirit of Gaige the mechromancer. In his other hand he held his wrench, but clamped firmly was Zer0’s own spirit, which he immediately placed against his heart to absorb into himself.

”Guess that’s one less ya owe me,” 6 mumbled, more focused on their enemy as he crushed Gaige’s spirit to form it into something useful.

World of Light

Courier 6 and Ratchet

Level 4 - (5/40) EXP (+2), Level 3 - (2/30)
Location: Castle Interior
Word Count: 471

Ratchet observed with a pleased grin as Megadragonbowser attempted to swat the sticky bomb aside, only to get caught up in its explosion. Frankly he was hoping that the big beefcake would take him literally and actually eat it, but this was almost as good. Quickly checking the ammo meter, the bombuilder didn’t have quite enough for another shot just yet, but he reckoned it’d be coming up soon.

Meanwhile a few free hits got in on the brute, only for him to quickly recover and send the big junk looking robot flying in a ball of fire. Not wanting to get in any closer with only just his wrench on hand, Ratchet stayed back from the action. The Courier, however, was happy to receive his brief healing from Blazermate, only to suddenly find a burning robot fling at the two of them! The Courier made to duck out of the way, only to have his dodge made redundant. Tora and the machine girl he had picked up intervened, knocking Deathtrap off course.

”... I totally had that…” he grumbled. Checking back on the evil Bowser (eviler?) just to see if he’d need to be keping up the act, he saw the king pulling back into his shell for another blind spinning assault. Great… Oh shit, the kid! He dashed fast as he could to help get the Hat Kid out of the way, but was too far and too slow: Megadragonbowser’s spinning shell technique was just too fast. But thankfully it had one major weakness which showed itself in spades here.

Thanks to being blinded, the enemy crashed into the pillar and flipped over onto his backside. Those big spikes certainly wouldn’t help matters, so the Courier took the best opportunity he was likely to get. ”My king! I’ll help you!” he cried out, taking off running. As he neared, he summoned the lakelurk beneath his legs, jumping from its shoulders only for it to disappear once again. Up in the air, he grabbed onto the edge of the giant koopa’s shell and flung himself up on MDB’s belly.

Ratchet kept moving about, now hopping side to side to avoid the raining rocks. He kicked off of what was left of the pillar, then kicked off of another large falling rock. Clank reappeared, keeping him hovered in the air as he took aim with the bombuilder and its newly regenerated proximity sticky bomb.

”Help you move on to Hell, that is.” The Courier planted his shotgun as close to the king’s exposed neck as possible and pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession.

”We’ll see how big and mighty you are after this!” Ratchet pulled the trigger, launching the bomb directly for Bowser’s face.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

And now that it’s all said and done, time to post up the deaths and injuries.

Grievous Injuries

Mastar
Salem
Abaddon
Wisp/Creep
Tulpa

Sacrificed Deaths

Thunderbolt
Lamprey
Farce
Swarm
Hermès
Phantom

Randomly Generated Deaths

Alloy
Sylph
Headhunter

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Behemoth

Introduction

That time that’s been so highly advertised and anticipated has finally arrived. Behemoth. Is. Here. The single largest event of the game, which dominates everything else. I’m hoping to make this event incredibly memorable, full of action, pathos, and long lasting consequences. An incredible, indestructible engine of destruction and death, Behemoth will wreak havoc in Denver and it’s our duty to fend him off. This marks the halfway point of the game’s primary story, and the results will shape how the rest of the story will progress. The most immediately visible impact will be the deaths. Yes, for those of you not yet aware (all two of you), this event will have many deaths involved, both NPC and PC. So without further ado, let’s jump into the various steps in how this event will unfold.

NPC Deaths

Actually, this stage is already done. All NPCs were rolled a 4 sided die in the Discord server. On a 1 or 2, they were safe. On a 3, they will receive severe injuries in the event (potentially career ending ones like missing limbs). On a 4, the character will unquestionably die during Behemoth’s attack. If you’re in the Discord server, you can see the rolls yourself. If you’re not, or just prefer a comprehensive list, then you can refer yourself right here. Over the course of the attack, various updates of mine will include these deaths and injuries.

Severe Injuries

Protean
Xolotl
Celia
The Questioner
Broker’s body double
Chivalry
Matrix
Pester
Love Craft

Dead

Inkscape
Patriarch
Vanish
Retcon
Shatterpoint
Chris Lange
Arsenal
Artificer
Macavity
Sonar
Blastmaster

Step One: Who’s Participating?

The very first thing to do in this event is to determine who exactly is participating. I require a yes or no from every single player in regards to every single one of your characters. No exceptions. You must address every one of your characters, either here or in discord. Every single character that participated against Behemoth adds to how effective we are in fighting him off. Thus, the more who participate, the better condition Denver will be in once it’s all said and done. Of course, participating comes at great personal risk. The character could receive severe injuries, massive emotional trauma, or even death. Of course, you could simply choose to not participate against Behemoth and remain safe, but if the whole city becomes an irradiated wasteland, then what’s the point? Oh, and there’s also Bad Karma Tokens.
Bad Karma Token: So you chose to avoid the risk to save yourself. An understandable choice, but one which leaves a black mark on your record. In an Endbringer attack even the worst of villains come together and help against the worst atrocities. By choosing to save yourself, you give the GMs the right to pull off one bad event on this character, at any point for any reason. It probably won’t be as severe as death, but it can be the deaths of family, friends, loss of limb, or anything else we care to pull out, and we need no justification.

Step 2: Determining # of Deaths

As stated in the last section, the more characters who participate against Behemoth the better off the city will be, and thus the inverse is true. This also applies to character deaths. The more who participate, the fewer player deaths that will occur. The fewer that participate, the more who will die. Once I know exactly how many characters are a go, I will determine how many deaths are needed. This number is a secret and known exclusively to myself only. Which leads into our next section.

Step 3: Volunteer Sacrifices

Once I know exactly how many PC deaths will be involved, it’s time to ask for volunteers. “But propro,” I hear you ask me. “We already volunteered to fight!” Oh little Billy, I know but that’s not what I’m asking for. Since we need deaths, the first of those deaths to occur will be volunteer sacrifices. Basically, of all the characters participating I’ll be calling for volunteers to have their characters killed. Once everyone has volunteered all their sacrifices, I’ll remove that total from the total number of deaths in the event. If we get enough sacrifices to cover the total death count, congratulations! No more deaths will be made. If we go over the total death quota, all characters put up for sacrifice will still die: offering them up is a guarantee and they cannot be saved. However, if we get fewer sacrifices than the total death quota…

Step Four: Killing Characters

Once sacrifices are determined its time to finish the job: deciding who else has to die. All remaining Behemoth participants will be put on a spreadsheet and given a number from 1 through total character count. I will then roll a number of dice equal to the remaining death quota. Whoever it lands on, well, buh-bye! You ded. Now there is an exception to this that can make your character safe, and it’s just that: your character, singular. I will not be killing off anybody if they are your last standing character, or the only one you had, unless you specifically want to face the odds (which you should dictate at the same time you declare character participation and sacrifices). Of course, even if you’re safe from death that doesn’t mean you’re safe…

Step Five: Grievous Injury

Death is not the only possible outcome in an Endbringer attack. While the best statistical outcome in Endbringer attacks is 1 in 4 capes dying, many more receive injuries ranging from the superficial to the “better off dead” variety, and that means even if you don’t die, you can still lose a limb or an eye, or something similar. When I build the spreadsheet of participants, the order will be randomized. Once all deaths are rolled, every character immediately above and below the dead ones will be receiving some manner of terrible injury. (For the purpose of this list, the very top and bottom names are considered to be adjacent). If your character doesn’t die, but both the ones immediately above and below them do, don’t worry, you still only need one severe injury.

Step Six: The Battle Begins!

Finally, all the preparations are complete! Don’t worry little Billy, it wasn’t as long as it looks. This is where we’ll be spending most of our time. Now that we know exactly who shall sink into the inky black abyss and who will be left to pick up the pieces, let’s act it out! At this point I’ll set the stage and then it’s a big free for all. Per usual, capes from all over the world will be showing up to help fend off Behemoth, and mass destruction will be ensuing as the monstrous dynakinetic rampages through Denver. The rule that players cannot act for superpowered NPCs will be temporarily lifted for the duration of this event. Since international capes are showing up en masse feel free to drop in random parahumans to interact with as we fight back. These can be established capes canon to the original story like Legend and Alexandria, NPCs designer for this game like Inkscape and Patriarch, or totally original creations from elsewhere in the country, even to Behemoth himself. Get out as many posts as you want, collabs together, operate pretty much however you want, and I’ll be dropping in GM updates sporadically that kill or injure various NPCs and update the overall situation of the city itself. As for your own characters up for the chopping block, how and when they die or get injured is entirely up to you, so long as it happens before the end of the event (which I will be advertising to you in advance). Remember, everyone has something they can contribute. Even if you can’t fight the monstrous Behemoth directly, there’s civilians to evacuate, search and rescue, mobilization, logistics, so on and so forth.

New Characters

Since so many characters will be dying in this event, either by choice or not, it’s only natural to want new characters to replace them, and that’s more than ok! In fact, it’s encouraged. I know a few of you have already made some replacements in advance. These characters can have triggered during the event itself, or be outside capes that came to help. Not only can they appear to help fight off Behemoth, but they don’t count as “active characters” yet, meaning they won’t be rolled for death and injury.

Q&A

Any questions asked, I’ll edit into this section with answers so everyone can reference all the information back in one place.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

The Behemoth Event has officially begun. Feel free to continue posting as normal, but all violence and engagements have officially ended right here and now. Please standby for a longer post detailing how this event will be handled.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Wards: The End? No. Only the Beginning

@Old Amsterdam@yoshua171@Gardevoiran@BCTheEntity@Lugubrious

The Wards came together in a coordinated assault from multiple directions. Messiah knew it was time to unleash everything she had on him to burn away his excess mass. In the midst of his transformations, Mastar dropped another large load of the black flammable substance from above, giving him a nice coating which caught ablaze. Even Margrave, who lacked the sheer damage output of the others, could still lay claim to assisting as the various tools he tossed grew back to full size and chipped away at small amounts of flesh. The projection came barreling toward Protean, its energy field further intensified, burning flesh up into black smoke all around.

That was the biggest indicator that Protean wasn’t out for the count yet. They haven’t noticed the thin membrane I’ve spread across the whole floor and walls. How I’ve been feeling their presence while otherwise blind. When that projection expanded across the whole hall I thought my plan was done for, but once it shrank and I reconnected with my severed tissues I knew they had no idea what’s in store.

The containment foam grenade landed nearby, signalling its presence to Protean as he felt it strike his membrane of flesh. This was it, then. No turning back now. Do or die. All across the hallway, from the floor to the walls to the ceiling, thousands upon thousands of little bumps grew out of the flesh membrane. Colobopsis cylindrica: the exploding ant. With a cocktail of five different venoms and hardened carapace shrapnel mixed into the explosion…

”I’m not going down alone!” he cried out, the sacks of flesh vibrating with contractions.

This is it. This is… The crucial moment! Director Kens’ eyes intensified, as though he were burning a hole in the wall with his gaze alone. He took hold of the pistol tossed toward him by Tiger Lily, took aim, and fired on Protean… Completely missing the brute’s main body, instead striking the floor near his foot with the experimental foam bullet.

Both the grenade, and the bullet, began expanding in a mass of patented containment foam. Truly a marvelous invention, strong enough to restrict the movement of all but the most dangerous brutes, spread on contact, and yet still porous enough to breathe through. It quickly spread up the turncoat’s legs and waist, expanding ever further up the torso and his nearing his neck line. Protean seemed shocked, as though something was wrong.

”What happened? Why haven’t my b-” And thus the changer-brute was silenced, his entire body encased in the foam. He knew not to try to break free by changing shape, as it would only pop the cells of the foam and cause more expansion. He was truly and utterly beaten. The thousands of bumps coating the walls, ceiling, and floor shrank back down, inert and inactive.

Soft footsteps signalled the arrival of Director Kens, pistol still in hand as he clutched his wound. The bleeding had only gotten worse, and his skin was turning white. ”Good… Job… Wards…” Their boss slumped over onto the floor, the pistol skidding along until it hit the wall, stopping to be just as motionless as the director himself. No doubt about it, the man needed immediate medical attention. Still, he pushed himself far harder than any man his age, or as injured, should.

”Secretary… Community. Shot me… Got her back.” He wheezed, not looking up. ”More important. Patriarch… Confirmed master… Not their fault… Brainwashed.”

The director slipped into unconsciousness.

9:03 a.m.

---

---

The Jacks: The Destruction Continues

@yoshua171@BCTheEntity@Eklispe@Old Amsterdam@Crusader Lord

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bomb after bomb dropped, only to be immediately destroyed safely thanks to Headhunter’s absolutely invaluable power. The Jacks could not have asked for a better answer to the problem at hand, which meant they only had to figure a solution to Doctor Dean himself.

The pattern was simple, predictable, and easy. Tracked and reported by Chatterbox’s loyal fans, Thunderbolt had little trouble in chasing down his target even with his two burdens. Skipping past one bomb to be better prepared for the next opportunity, the chance came exactly as the rest of the pattern suggested it would. A bright white light signalled the opening of a portal, and Thunderbolt was ready for it. Thanks to Whimsy’s power allowing him to interact safely with the portal, the brute’s massive hand reached in and grabbed the villainous tinker by the face, shoving him straight into the ground. The palm attack came with an audible crack as the power armor helmet snapped, and probably some bones as well.

As Thunderbolt reeled back to slam his fist into the murderer, Doctor Dean attempted to press another button located on the palm of his hand, only to be interrupted by another bolt of electricity from Alloy. Once he stopped convulsing, the readout on the inside of his helmet went black: his equipment had finally completely died. He was alone, injured, unarmed, and helpless against the onslaught of the Jacks. A pummeling which he rightly deserved for casually killing hundreds of people just today alone.

For the first few hits, the tinker tried to mount up a defense, to block with his arms, but it proved fruitless. He may as well have been tissue paper fighting back against a tidal wave for all the good that it did. Only two more slugs from the 6’10” goliath and Dean couldn’t muster up even that much strength. He was barely alive, bleeding out within his broken suit, bones splintering, and going into shock. But there was still one trick left up his sleeve.

Defend me from these villains! The mental command echoed through the annals of reality, pulling into possibilities of never-weres and always-there. The command reached a recipient chosen at random, thrusting that one out from where they stood.

A new arrival now stood nearby, in striking distance of Thunderbolt, Whimsy, and Alloy. They held two curved blades, glowing with a neon blue energy, bronze ornate armor, a featureless reflective mask, and red leather costume with matching cape and hood. With one sword they quickly jabbed toward Thunderbolt, only to stop just short of slicing the brute’s neck. They paused for a few seconds before speaking.

”Something is wrong.” His voice sounded perfectly identical to that of Doctor Dean. The man pulled his blade away, looking around at the carnage and destruction, then back to the Jacks. ”I see. Well, I think not.”

He plunged his right blade down into Doctor Dean’s arm, nailing the tinker to the ground. It sliced through his armor and body like air, as though it weren’t even there. The murderer gave a final sputter, then died with a whimper.

”He summoned me to kill you in a last ditch effort to defend himself, but my power informed me of the destruction he has wrought, and I refuse. I cannot offer enough of an apology to you all for the trouble this one has caused.” The newcomer kicked off Doctor Dean’s mask, revealing his true face beneath. He then pulled off his own mask to reveal an identical face, though he wore a scar over his left eye, which appeared to be blind.

”We are both Dean Ryder. Different versions of the same person from different realities. Some Deans carry the ability to summon others to battle for them, but this is a death sentence. Paradox kills us in under a minute, and the power transfers to the last living Dean. I suppose I now possess this unholy ability, as I am now stranded on your earth. I do not know what name this vile creature went by, but you may call me Chivalry.” Chivalry placed his mask back on and reclaimed the sword he left buried in his doppelganger’s arm.

9:03 a.m.

---

I Own This City

@Spiffy

”Are we all set?” An angry voice inquired of several people running about the television station.

“Very nearly, father,” answered a harried man as he quickly flipped a number of switches.

”Remember that the broadcast needs to be cloned across every local station! No excuses!” he snapped back, the rage boiling just beneath the surface, threatening to lash out at anything that might displease him.

“Of course, sir! Connor is on it right now!” The man went back to his work. “Almost ready. We’ll be on the air in 2 minutes!”

”You have one.”

And so the exchanges went back and forth, until they were fully prepared. The station’s security were posted just outside the doors, allowing the operations within to occur. Media personnel ran about the station making all the adjustments that they could. Nearby two well know, powerful villains, Sonika and Xolotl, oversaw that things were progressing according to the timetable. Finally, it was ready.

“We’re live in five. Four. Three. Two.” The man silently mouthed the word “one” then pointed at the man they were filming. All around cameras lit up. The broadcast had begun.

All across Denver city proper, all the adjoining suburbs, all across Northern Colorado, all television active television screens lit up as a single program interrupted whatever scheduled shows were currently playing. A single man stood on an open set staring directly into the camera. The single most infamous man in the state.

Good morning, Denver. I trust no introductions are necessary, but just in case any of you remain ignorant I’ll indulge anyway. I am Patriarch. According to the public, I am the leader of The Community. While this is true, it minimizes my role to an insulting degree.” Though he spoke calmly, anybody with an ounce of social intelligence could feel the rage brimming within him. ”You’ve all made the mistake of assuming that just because I united all the gangs in Denver that The Community was itself a gang, but you couldn’t be more wrong. It’s all in the name.”

---

”Wards, there’s been a new development you need to see!” Decoy called out over the communicators. A nearby projector animated Patriarch’s broadcast on the wall.

---

”The Community is exactly that: the community in which we all live and thrive. This very city. My power maintained a certain status quo. Kept the peace, as it were. But there were you ungrateful heroes who decided that I am not entitled to the luxury of reward for my actions, that I am a villain! And to all those who fly the flag of being a villain, they refuse to see the beauty in my rule and try to usurp me! Ungrateful the lot of you!” He slammed his fist into the backdrop wall, which collapsed onto the ground with a shaking rumble, revealing the back set of the tv station… As well as a single individual tied up and unconscious on a gurney.

”This is the worst offender of you brats, an FBI agent by day named Judah Raines. I would say you may know him by his cape name Mantis, but you probably don’t. This hell raiser has made a name for himself among my people for slaughtering them wholesale!”

---

Miraculously, the tv monitors in the airport were still more or less functional. As the broadcast went on, Chivalry tilted his head at the ravings of the lunatic on screen. ”It seems this world is in need of justice.”

---

”You have all suspected it for some time now. I’m not certain how the word got out, but it did and I see no reason to deny it. I have a certain influence on people. I make you see things my way, which I’ve used to unite everyone together, but it seems there are those who are desperate to cling to violence and chaos, much like Mantis here. That is why I have showed you all the error of your ways today, shown you where your lack of respect and discipline takes you! Now that you’ve seen the punishment, I am sure you’ll all see things my way, one way or another… Just as Mantis is about to.”

---

Denver Geological Survey Center

“Are you seeing this batshit crazy talk, Jim?” A black woman in business casual sat at her desk, commenting on the broadcast as she looked over the recent survey records.

“No kidding,” Jim sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. “The streets are a warzone because he’s sending all his crazed flunkies out off the leash, and it’s our fault?”

“I’m just glad nobody has been attacking us here,” the black woman said. Jim nodded, pursing his lips.

“Hey… Hey, are you seeing this?” she called her partner over to inspect the live readouts. “Does this look right to you?”

Jim squinted, taking a closer look. After a moment, his coffee cup hit the floor and shattered, ceramic and hot coffee spilling everywhere. “Marsha, we have to alert the PRT!”

Marsha reeled back. “You mean-”

“Yes, I do!” Jim interrupted, rushing toward the nearest phone.

“Oh god oh god, I… I gotta call my loved ones!” she fumbled with her own cellphone while Jim grabbed the office phone. He dialed the emergency number given to connect directly to Decoy’s system.

“This is Jim Cavanaugh at the Geological Survey Center. We’ve got a big ass problem, and by my calculations less than an hour to get ready for it.”

“This is Marsha Wilkes. You need to get a message to Father right now.”

---

Thousands upon thousands of eyes were glued to their screens as Patriarch approached Mantis. Meters became feet. Feet became inches. He teased with his hands, reaching closer to Mantis before pulling back like a cat toying with a mouse. Then it happened.

All across the city, sirens went off. Sirens that were built to warn of impending threat, but not just any impending threat.

Behemoth was coming.