Or Arty, as another example. He can lift up to five tons with ease if he uses his ability to boost his strength, but when he does so he loses ranged capability. Without boosting, he is as strong as it is possible for a human to be when they don't have to worry about breaking bones or tearing muscles beyond repair. His lightning has definitive limits at 1,000 and 3,000 degrees (uncharged and charged, respectively), and his range is also clearly defined.
So all you need to do is give a number for his basic stats. Can he lift 3 tons? 5? 10? How fast is he? 60 mph sprint? 100? 150? How durable? Can he take a bullet? What caliber? What about armor piercing? What about a knife? Or a grenade? (Keep in mind these are three different types of damage).
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i had some time, so I decided to sit myself down and crank out a post. Enjoy! Or let me know if you don't and I'll try and do better next time... Lol.
Harkins watched the small red blip on the monitor with a casual ease that belied his intense interest in the image and its sole occupant.
"Magnify."
The image zoomed in on the red blip, and faint red lines became visible, crisscrossing the various shades of blue that composed the rest of the image. Those must be hot water pipes.
"Is this the only angle we have?"
"Yes sir. Anything else and the brick in the walls obscures the thermal scopes. Top down is the best I can do."
He supposed he shouldn't be disappointed. They wouldn't have been able to find her at all, even with the satellite tracking, if they hadn't known where she was going in the first place. As it was, it was still difficult to make out the shape of a girl huddled on the floor with her knees pulled up and pressed against her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them to create a comforting, yet completely incorrect, illusion of safety. He would have to disabuse her of that illusion as soon as possible. They'd been too soft on her thus far, not realizing that she really could take every bit of the punishment that the Wolverine himself could withstand. Possibly even more. Logan had been the first stage, the prototype product. With X-23 they'd been able to start fresh, avoid the mistakes they made with her predecessor. She was already beating his scores in the in-house training scenarios, though her real world test scores had yet to catch up. That was to be expected, really. She'd only been given one mission thus far, and they'd made the mistake of sending her in without any blood on her hands. That was not a mistake he intended to duplicate. Reaching down to the console in front of himself, he depressed the intercom button and spoke.
"Send the NYPD that anonymous tip. I want to see how she handles an ambush. Make sure they know she is armed and dangerous."
Whoever was on the other line spoke their assent and the comm went dead. Harkins turned back to the monitor to watch his new drama unfold, arms crossed and eyes narrowed in thought. He half wished her implant was still functional so he could tell her that the no-kill order had been rescinded. Oh well. He'd just have to push her into it. No more of this accidental deaths business. He wanted a clean kill.
"Let's see if we can get her to open up a bit."
She'd been sitting in the safe house for hours, waiting for them to send someone after her. It had been empty when she arrived, and for a moment she'd feared that it too had been compromised. She only realized that wasn't the case because of the smell. No human had been in here in months, possibly years. The food in the kitchen was all canned with an expiration date fifteen years from now, and it quickly became apparent that this was one of the low-upkeep facilities they kept around the country, not one of the active locations. The only reason someone would come here was if they had no other place to go, and that was her right now.
The ice-cold air bit at her exposed skin as she sat in the all but abandoned safe house, but she ignored the frigid temperatures and focused on what her senses could tell her of the outside. She could still just barely hear the sounds of traffic several floors below, though the spaces between the passing of each car had become longer and longer as the hours dragged on. If she had to guess, which she didn't, it had to be nearly four o'clock in the morning by now. The sun would be coming up in a few hours. Maybe that would make it warmer in here.
Her thoughts were pulled back to the sounds of outside as her ears picked up the telltale rumble of powerful engines. Lots of powerful engines. At least half a dozen, if not more. There was also the sound of weapons being loaded and rounds being chambered, then heavy footsteps on the stairs below. The lack of decent insulation in the building had one perk, at least.
Why were they coming in armed though? They had to know she wouldn't hurt them, not if they'd been sent from the facility. Unless... Her implant had been damaged somehow in the fall, so maybe it wasn't working on their end either. If they didn't know what her status was, it was possible they would feel the need to come in with backup. Or it wasn't Facility operatives at all. It was just as likely that they were aligned with whoever those fake cops on the roof were. She'd already surmised that her extraction plan could have been compromised, so why not the safe house?
But who would even know about the safe house to compromise it? Only someone from the inside would have access to that information. She had to make it back and warn Harkins. There was someone inside the facility leaking information to outside entities. She stood from her huddled position as the sound of boots reached the floor below, and ducked into the kitchen as they began the ascent to her floor. She didn't have much time to prepare, but the lack of windows in the safe house meant there was only one way out. It occurred to her then that this was a very poorly designed safe house, though she was unable to dwell on the thought as they knocked twice, calling out for someone to open up each time, then smashed the door in when no one answered.
She was standing in the kitchen, arms folded across her chest to hold her coat shut, head down so her hair fell around her face, and knees pulled together so she looked less threatening. She even managed a tear and a half-choked sob as the first officer rounded into the kitchen. He was dressed in a high-end SWAT officer's uniform, complete with top of the line body armor and a helmet with a face plate. That would make incapacitation difficult. He stopped when he saw her, but didn't lower his gun.
"Miss, I need you to get on the ground and lace your fingers together behind your head. We have to take you in for questioni... Holy shit!" It was when he saw the blood that stained her coat and face and legs that the situation took a turn for the worse, and he instantly backed up to gain distance before yelling at her to get the fuck on the ground. She wished he hadn't done that. Wished the order to avoid casualties had superseded any others, but it didn't. there was only one order that was at the top of the pyramid, one order that she had to follow above all else. Don't get caught. Never let yourself be taken by the enemy. These police were the enemy. Her heart sank as he stared her down over the barrel of his gun, and a second tear slid down her cheek as she looked back, this one all too real. She hated herself for what she was about to do, knew it was wrong even though every iota of her training said otherwise, but she also knew there was no other way. There were too many, and they were too well equipped to simply incapacitate and flee, even for her. There was no other option.
"RAAARGH!!"
A snarl full of rage and despair tore from her throat as she lunged forward, drowning out the subtle "snikt" as her claws sprang free of their sheaths. A bullet tore into her shoulder, but she ignored it, more tears joining the first as she cut two long gashes through the armor and flesh of the officer in front of her. He fell with a sickening gurgle as she moved on to the man beside him, killing him and three more officers before the others in the room had a chance to react. When they did, it was already too late. She moved like a dancer, almost too quickly for their eyes to follow, much less their guns. Moments after it had begun, the fight was over, and the young woman stood surrounded by the bodies of her victims, blood and tears mingling on her face.
Her claws withdrew almost of their own accord, and she sunk to her knees on the red-covered floor and cried. Not just for the men, but for something else too. Something she couldn't name or identify, or even known she had before, but she knew somehow that whatever it was, she had just lost it forever. There was no turning back for her now. She was a killer through and through, a weapon to be aimed and fired at whatever target her masters required. Any trace of innocence had been wiped away by this single, terrible act, and she wept for the loss of it.
It wasn't long after that Harkins stepped through the door, followed by one of the facility's clean up crews. He stopped in front of the kneeling girl and regarded her thoughtfully for a moment as the cleaners set to work planting their bomb.
"You did good, twenty-three."
She didn't raise her head, even though she knew just how rare praise like that was, coming from the man in front of her.
"I killed twelve men."
"And you will kill many, many more before we are through with you."
She looked up at him then, her face stained with blood and half-dried tears, her hair clinging to her skin in swirls of black that wove their way through the red. It was her eyes that caught his attention, though. Where once they had been full of curiosity and enthusiasm, they were now nothing but cold and dead. He had finally succeeded in breaking her spirit, the last stage before she could reach her full potential as his greatest creation. His greatest weapon. He smiled down at her and reached out a hand to help her up. She took it and rose, then looked him dead in the eyes and spoke, her tone as cold and remorseless as her eyes.
"Who's my next target?"
"Magnify."
The image zoomed in on the red blip, and faint red lines became visible, crisscrossing the various shades of blue that composed the rest of the image. Those must be hot water pipes.
"Is this the only angle we have?"
"Yes sir. Anything else and the brick in the walls obscures the thermal scopes. Top down is the best I can do."
He supposed he shouldn't be disappointed. They wouldn't have been able to find her at all, even with the satellite tracking, if they hadn't known where she was going in the first place. As it was, it was still difficult to make out the shape of a girl huddled on the floor with her knees pulled up and pressed against her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them to create a comforting, yet completely incorrect, illusion of safety. He would have to disabuse her of that illusion as soon as possible. They'd been too soft on her thus far, not realizing that she really could take every bit of the punishment that the Wolverine himself could withstand. Possibly even more. Logan had been the first stage, the prototype product. With X-23 they'd been able to start fresh, avoid the mistakes they made with her predecessor. She was already beating his scores in the in-house training scenarios, though her real world test scores had yet to catch up. That was to be expected, really. She'd only been given one mission thus far, and they'd made the mistake of sending her in without any blood on her hands. That was not a mistake he intended to duplicate. Reaching down to the console in front of himself, he depressed the intercom button and spoke.
"Send the NYPD that anonymous tip. I want to see how she handles an ambush. Make sure they know she is armed and dangerous."
Whoever was on the other line spoke their assent and the comm went dead. Harkins turned back to the monitor to watch his new drama unfold, arms crossed and eyes narrowed in thought. He half wished her implant was still functional so he could tell her that the no-kill order had been rescinded. Oh well. He'd just have to push her into it. No more of this accidental deaths business. He wanted a clean kill.
"Let's see if we can get her to open up a bit."
She'd been sitting in the safe house for hours, waiting for them to send someone after her. It had been empty when she arrived, and for a moment she'd feared that it too had been compromised. She only realized that wasn't the case because of the smell. No human had been in here in months, possibly years. The food in the kitchen was all canned with an expiration date fifteen years from now, and it quickly became apparent that this was one of the low-upkeep facilities they kept around the country, not one of the active locations. The only reason someone would come here was if they had no other place to go, and that was her right now.
The ice-cold air bit at her exposed skin as she sat in the all but abandoned safe house, but she ignored the frigid temperatures and focused on what her senses could tell her of the outside. She could still just barely hear the sounds of traffic several floors below, though the spaces between the passing of each car had become longer and longer as the hours dragged on. If she had to guess, which she didn't, it had to be nearly four o'clock in the morning by now. The sun would be coming up in a few hours. Maybe that would make it warmer in here.
Her thoughts were pulled back to the sounds of outside as her ears picked up the telltale rumble of powerful engines. Lots of powerful engines. At least half a dozen, if not more. There was also the sound of weapons being loaded and rounds being chambered, then heavy footsteps on the stairs below. The lack of decent insulation in the building had one perk, at least.
Why were they coming in armed though? They had to know she wouldn't hurt them, not if they'd been sent from the facility. Unless... Her implant had been damaged somehow in the fall, so maybe it wasn't working on their end either. If they didn't know what her status was, it was possible they would feel the need to come in with backup. Or it wasn't Facility operatives at all. It was just as likely that they were aligned with whoever those fake cops on the roof were. She'd already surmised that her extraction plan could have been compromised, so why not the safe house?
But who would even know about the safe house to compromise it? Only someone from the inside would have access to that information. She had to make it back and warn Harkins. There was someone inside the facility leaking information to outside entities. She stood from her huddled position as the sound of boots reached the floor below, and ducked into the kitchen as they began the ascent to her floor. She didn't have much time to prepare, but the lack of windows in the safe house meant there was only one way out. It occurred to her then that this was a very poorly designed safe house, though she was unable to dwell on the thought as they knocked twice, calling out for someone to open up each time, then smashed the door in when no one answered.
She was standing in the kitchen, arms folded across her chest to hold her coat shut, head down so her hair fell around her face, and knees pulled together so she looked less threatening. She even managed a tear and a half-choked sob as the first officer rounded into the kitchen. He was dressed in a high-end SWAT officer's uniform, complete with top of the line body armor and a helmet with a face plate. That would make incapacitation difficult. He stopped when he saw her, but didn't lower his gun.
"Miss, I need you to get on the ground and lace your fingers together behind your head. We have to take you in for questioni... Holy shit!" It was when he saw the blood that stained her coat and face and legs that the situation took a turn for the worse, and he instantly backed up to gain distance before yelling at her to get the fuck on the ground. She wished he hadn't done that. Wished the order to avoid casualties had superseded any others, but it didn't. there was only one order that was at the top of the pyramid, one order that she had to follow above all else. Don't get caught. Never let yourself be taken by the enemy. These police were the enemy. Her heart sank as he stared her down over the barrel of his gun, and a second tear slid down her cheek as she looked back, this one all too real. She hated herself for what she was about to do, knew it was wrong even though every iota of her training said otherwise, but she also knew there was no other way. There were too many, and they were too well equipped to simply incapacitate and flee, even for her. There was no other option.
"RAAARGH!!"
A snarl full of rage and despair tore from her throat as she lunged forward, drowning out the subtle "snikt" as her claws sprang free of their sheaths. A bullet tore into her shoulder, but she ignored it, more tears joining the first as she cut two long gashes through the armor and flesh of the officer in front of her. He fell with a sickening gurgle as she moved on to the man beside him, killing him and three more officers before the others in the room had a chance to react. When they did, it was already too late. She moved like a dancer, almost too quickly for their eyes to follow, much less their guns. Moments after it had begun, the fight was over, and the young woman stood surrounded by the bodies of her victims, blood and tears mingling on her face.
Her claws withdrew almost of their own accord, and she sunk to her knees on the red-covered floor and cried. Not just for the men, but for something else too. Something she couldn't name or identify, or even known she had before, but she knew somehow that whatever it was, she had just lost it forever. There was no turning back for her now. She was a killer through and through, a weapon to be aimed and fired at whatever target her masters required. Any trace of innocence had been wiped away by this single, terrible act, and she wept for the loss of it.
It wasn't long after that Harkins stepped through the door, followed by one of the facility's clean up crews. He stopped in front of the kneeling girl and regarded her thoughtfully for a moment as the cleaners set to work planting their bomb.
"You did good, twenty-three."
She didn't raise her head, even though she knew just how rare praise like that was, coming from the man in front of her.
"I killed twelve men."
"And you will kill many, many more before we are through with you."
She looked up at him then, her face stained with blood and half-dried tears, her hair clinging to her skin in swirls of black that wove their way through the red. It was her eyes that caught his attention, though. Where once they had been full of curiosity and enthusiasm, they were now nothing but cold and dead. He had finally succeeded in breaking her spirit, the last stage before she could reach her full potential as his greatest creation. His greatest weapon. He smiled down at her and reached out a hand to help her up. She took it and rose, then looked him dead in the eyes and spoke, her tone as cold and remorseless as her eyes.
"Who's my next target?"
Second in command? Well... Thanks boss. Lol. I'll try not to let the power go to my head. ;)
We're working on it LeeRoy.
And Teo: I assume your explosion was between my fighter and Drall's, but I'm afraid that isn't a legal move. You can't spring out of nowhere and attack without preparation. An attack has to be launched in one post and completed in the next, but you completely skipped the launching portion.
Take my lunge at Adrian, for example. In the post where I initiated it, I described the launching of the attack and what I expected to happen, and since Drall had no legitimate way to avoid it he accepted the hit, and I completed it in the following post. Also notice how Drall phrases his latest attack. He forms the energy and sends it toward me, describing what he expects to happen, but doesn't yet claim that outcome has happened because it is up to me to accept the hit, or deny it if I have a legitimate way of doing so.
Take my lunge at Adrian, for example. In the post where I initiated it, I described the launching of the attack and what I expected to happen, and since Drall had no legitimate way to avoid it he accepted the hit, and I completed it in the following post. Also notice how Drall phrases his latest attack. He forms the energy and sends it toward me, describing what he expects to happen, but doesn't yet claim that outcome has happened because it is up to me to accept the hit, or deny it if I have a legitimate way of doing so.
One thing about Daxius though. Could you specify how strong/agile he is exactly? Otherwise you can just keep saying he gets stronger and more agile the more he needs to, and skill goes out the window.
And we're moving again. Thanks Drall. :)
He slammed into the angelic being full force, leading with his left shoulder, and the force of the collision drove both men back to the ground. It was on the way to the ground that Arty slipped his hands through the gaps in the armor, latching on with his power to his opponents clothing and the flesh beneath, the attractive forces permeating cloth, skin, muscle and bone as he projected them outward from his hands. His right hand slipped beneath the plate covering his opponent's right shoulder, while his left found a chink beneath the other man's left arm.
When the armor was launched outward it slammed into his shoulder and chest, pushing his body away from the other man but failing to dislodge his hands. The only way he would be dislodged was if the armor carried enough force behind it to rip the bonded flesh, muscle, and bone clean off the other man, costing him both his right arm and a fair portion of the left side of his ribcage.
It was at this point, immediately after hitting the ground, that Arty's hands rippled with pure current, sending enough power into his opponent to kill three bull elephants outright. That was the rub with plate armor. It always had weak points that could be exploited by speed and accuracy, two traits that Arty had in spades.
When the armor was launched outward it slammed into his shoulder and chest, pushing his body away from the other man but failing to dislodge his hands. The only way he would be dislodged was if the armor carried enough force behind it to rip the bonded flesh, muscle, and bone clean off the other man, costing him both his right arm and a fair portion of the left side of his ribcage.
It was at this point, immediately after hitting the ground, that Arty's hands rippled with pure current, sending enough power into his opponent to kill three bull elephants outright. That was the rub with plate armor. It always had weak points that could be exploited by speed and accuracy, two traits that Arty had in spades.
You still around Drall?
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