Spoopy Scary

Verthaven: Days of Rain ☔ [COMPLETED]

Dynamics:
[indent]TBD [indent]

There's yer problem. You forgot the closing tag.

Verthaven: Days of Rain ☔ [COMPLETED]

The Dreadnaughts

---

Eyes locked on target: heavy coat wrapped figure shaking his finger at a crew of working men unloading a box truck behind a grocery market in a strip mall under the pouring rain. An uninterested mid-height young man leaned against a fence nearby, lean build, fingered the cigarette in his hand and the hood of a brown rain coat hid his face. The docking manager looked in his direction before leaving his crew with some final words before walking off in a hurry between the buildings.

Grit looked up, watching his target make his escape. With a grin, he eagerly flicked the cigarette away and marched in the direction the coated man had gone, between the alleyways. He shot the workers a curt nod. As the brick-laden walls enclosed him on either side, the young mercenary broke into a sprint, each foot smacking against the pavement. The sounds of footsteps followed him, and then the familiar sounds of clicking metal. Grit snatched a flashbang from inside his coat and threw it at the feet of his pursuers as they began to open fire on him. He ducked down, feeling the bullets whiz past his head.

'God, I nearly shit myself.'

He heard the bomb explode, and the gunfire stopped, and then came the agonized moans of men who've had their senses deadened. Grit focused back to the chase, watching the muddy prints on the ground before they suddenly came to an abrupt halt. He heard footsteps above, and he saw the man working his way up the scaffolding on the side of the building. He had pulled the ladder up behind him, and Grit was unable to follow him the conventional method.

Determined, Grit gave himself a running start and jumped on a dumpster and propelled off the side, clutching onto and climbing up pipes that ran down the backside of the building - he pulled himself up and set a foot on top of one of the vents before hopping over and rolling onto the top of the building, where he came face to face with the man he was pursuing. The man desperately dug through his coat as Grit made his charge toward him, just in time as the man pulled out his 9mm pistol.

Grit slid on the ground beneath his aim and pushed the bottom of the barrel up and off to the side - a gunshot went off - as he pulled the man's arm down. His target cried out in pain as he like suffered and broken or dislocated finger. The man didn't try to fight to take the gun back, Grit just barely dodged in time to have his target's knee brush across the side of his face. Grit grabbed the man's other leg and pulled as hard as he could on it. Already off-balance, the man fell. Grit threw the gun off to the side, grinning like a fool as he cracked his knuckles in the face of his enemy.

The man jumped to his feet and threw himself into a blind punch at Grit. He pushed it to the side and delivered a left hook to the man's face, dazing him. A right uppercut followed immediately after and before the man could fall over, Grit grabbed his head with both arms and held him close, hitting him in the face repeatedly with his knee, before dragging him over and slamming his back against the fencing of the scaffolding. Grit pulled his head up by his hair - his face was puffy, bleeding from his nose, and bruises were swelling around his eyes.

He spat out a glob of gore, and a tooth came with it.

"You... you... thure run pur' fast... for a smoker."

"Aw, yeah? Well, what'd you expect! The name's Danny Grit. Sorry to burst that bubble there, but I ain't actually smoke. Just one of my many qualities, ya know?"

"So... ya know who I am. Who th' fuck are you s'posed to be?"

"Aw, darn it. I was hopin' you'd ask how we know." Grit replied disappointed. "Had a couple good lines in mind, ya know? One goes like, ain't no secret safe from me."

Jim blinked slowly, either confused and didn't know what he was talking about, or taken back by Grit's stellar personality.

"But lets be straight with each other, buddy." Grit said. "You're Hands, ain't no hidin' that. I'm a mercenary. My friends and I got a lot on you - all the way down to your credit cards."

Jim's chest began heaving as he struggled for breath. It was apparent he was entering a panic.

"And we know about your, uh... what do you call it? Your distribution. So what I got is a friend o' mine on my ear thing, y'see?"

Grit pointed to the bluetooth ear piece - a light shone blue.

"And he wants to ask you a few questions, alright? Best work with him, he ain't very, uh... patient. Ya know? I don't wanna hurt you no more, but if he asks..."

Grit handed the man the ear piece, who begrudgingly took it from him and put it on. He spat, "who's this?"

"Your worst fucking nightmare, that's who." Snarled the rough voice on the other end. "This is how it's gonna go: you're gonna spill everything you have or I'm gonna have that fucking chatterbox blow your head up. He's wearin' a handgun that can fit .50 caliber rounds."

Jim glanced at Grit with a look of shock. Grit confirmed the warning, and drew out a massive revolver from his coat, clumsily spinning it once as he did - fumbling and nearly dropping the damn thing as he did so. That's what a .50 caliber handgun looked like. It looked real fucking heavy. Jim hesitated talking back to the man on the other end. "And then?"

"Glad you asked." Washe said with a smirk. He spun around in his chair, throwing his back to an array of lit monitors. He winked at an amused Baron who was sitting across from him with his legs crossed. "When we're done, you're gonna go back, and tell them all about the Dreadnaughts."

---

"Hello people of Verthaven, welcome back from to VN Channel 11 news. With that commercial break out of the way, we'd like to return to a... very interesting interview. We will be doing a recap with reporter Amy Schuler and will then be covering this week in sports."

"Hello Verthaven, this is Amy Schumer reporting live in Bazaar Riviera. Here I am conducting an exclusive live interview with a representative of an actual mercenary organization, where we'll be discussing their reason for being here and their relationship with the meta-specialized law enforcement agency, NEST."

The man that stood next to her was unmistakably Isaiah Washe, more clean-cut than he could ever seem. A flawlessly clean black suit over a white collared shirt. Black tie. His hair was gelled and combed back and parted in the front. No makeup. His eyes penetrated the camera, looking as though he could see the viewers themselves.

"For the folks at home who might have missed it, can you tell us your name again? Which organization was it that you worked for and what do you do for it?"

"Yes ma'am." Washe replied matter-of-factly. "For now, call me Caesar. I work for the elite PMC known as the Dreadnaughts, where I perform as acting chief tactical officer. What I do is construct strategic and tactical routes for the Dreadnaughts to follow, as well as oversee operations and operational activity."

"What are the Dreadnaughts be doing in Verthaven?"

"We have been contracted by NEST to aid in the cleansing of organized crime in the city, and to return peace to Verthaven. We don't insinuate NEST is incapable of handling this matter on its own, but I can not disclose more than that."

"You said you were asked to cleanse Verthaven of organized crime."

"Yes." Washe confirmed. "We have already made numerous stride toward that goal. We've subdued several of the Fiends bosses many weeks back and have uncovered with NEST agents the Miranda Caryl Conspiracy. Now we're turning our eyes to the Hands of Science, and their hired Changeling Unit, to pick off and incarcerate what is left of them and to bring them to justice, by any means necessary."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"The walls have ears, Schuler." Washe responded dryly. "The Dreadnaughts have hidden in this city's shadows for long enough. Now we're confident of our intel and are ready to bring the fight to them.

"In fact..." Washe began to say slyly. "We are already taking action. You can expect to see results by, say... the end of this week."

"Any last words to wrap up this interview? To the viewers at home, or to the Hands of Science?"

"Of course. To Verthaven: soon you all will have nothin' to fear. This nightmare has drawn itself out long enough, and we've come to put it to rest. The danger the Hands poses to your friends, family, and children, will be exterminated. To the Hands of Science..."

Washe paused, letting the silence linger on for a couple delicious moments longer with a smug expression on his face..

"...keep checking your windows, you pissant bastards. You'll know it's us when you see it."

The interview closed, and the two bid their farewells before the news stations turned over to the sports anchorman. But the biggest question in mind was "why are the Dreadnaughts here?" All this time being spent hiding in the shadows, why now, of all times, to come out and make themselves known to all of Verthaven and to their enemies?

What was their rationale in all of this?

Verthaven: Days of Rain ☔ [COMPLETED]

Cities have thousands of people, Ed-boy.

Verthaven: Days of Rain ☔ [COMPLETED]

Zeke Majahal

Basic Information

Name:

Zeke Majahal

Nickname/Alias/Etc:

Magus

Gender:

Male

Age:

342

Height:

6'6"

Weight:

255 lbs.

Home District:

Beneath Eastover

Appearance

Hair Color:

Greying silver and black.

Eye Color:

Bright amber

Ethnicity:

Ukrainian

Physical Appearance:

An apparently inhuman beast, as part of a consequence from an ancient battle with his adversaries. Once a tall, fair-skinned man with dark brown hair, sharp features, and amber eyes - he looks drastically different nowadays. Feet replaced with massive paws, wiry legs, lean-chested, long spindly arms tipped with sharp claws, and an unfriendly face of something that looks a little more than wolf. Angular, mean, wrinkled in a way that makes it look as though he's in a state of eternal snarling. A rough mane collars his neck, and long white fur hangs from chin. His whole body is covered in fur. Black, grey, bits of silver - his long life is beginning to catch up to his hair color, but his body has maintained its prowess like any alpha beast, and just as capable of ripping apart man and beast alike as any other animal-type meta. His back is hunkered over, almost always slouching, and his voice is like sandpaper. His body, unexpectedly, is almost completely free of scars. His height and body weight, needless to say, has gotten larger since his transformation.

Attire:

The first thing noticeable about Zeke's attire is a faded, washed-out purple/burgundy toga picta, and is embroidered a faded out gold that looks more like a spicy brown mustard at this point. However, underneath his wearable blanket is a Frankenstein suit of NEST armor, stitched together in a jury-rigged suit. Standard armor doesn't fit him, so it took a bit of tearing apart and restitching to get it to work. Collected by agents who carelessly treads on his ground on their own personal whim and without orders from their superiors, these agents were unable to be traced and were forced to be labeled lost in action. While the armor he wears may not be very neat or tidy, and maybe not even as good as a fitted set of armor, it supplements his protection and acts as quite the surprise should any enemies of his find that their assault wasn't as effective as they thought it'd be. It also acts as a show of competence, like a set of trophies that says: "here's a list of all the agents who thought they could beat me".

Personality

Innate & Outward Personality:

Zeke fancies himself a charivnyk - a sorceror. Having lived over three hundred years, there are quite a few aspects of himself that are passé beyond his belief in meta-human energy actually being magic, such the condemnation of pagan worship and black magic, going so far as being known as the hunter of vidma, or witches, during his time. He is fairly isolationist, preferring his own confines, and if need be, will only associate himself with few people at a time provided that they can pull their own weight. His composure and dialect hints toward a late 17th century influence - but his great age lends also to him great wisdom. In all his years of living, he has learned that age and time was no great concern to him. Zeke, although a restless and diligent worker in his studies, takes it easy - in the sense that we won't stress himself out over it, and will often take breaks to reflect upon whatever new information he has found. He takes his time, and this ensures he never skips over any relevant details, allowing him to keep meticulous records and construct complex machinations that many of mankind would be unable to do on their own within the time frame that Zeke can.

As an intellectual, Zeke is obsessed with learning new information and absorbs what he can. Purely fictitious literature from which there is nothing to be gleaned bores him, whereas mythologies that Zeke can learn about the region of its descent's culture are fair game. Informative writings, history, and encyclopedic coverage of topics are his preferred tea. To broaden his range of awareness is valuable to him, and often, his intelligence makes him arrogant and self-concerned - not quite the type of person you'd like to talk to on a first date. However, it is not often a side shown, and he will take interest in what you have to say if there is opportunity to learn from it; his years of experience taught him there was something to be found in everything. Unless what you do or say has no substance, he won't totally ignore you.

His long life has deadened his empathy. Life as we know it comes and goes, and no one person is so important as to escape death's clutches for very long. The sight of struggling goes right past him as he has seen it time and again, and he accepts its inevitability. In some respect, Zeke is a nihilist, just seeking to see how much he can learn before the world ends. However, part of his curse may be attributed to his lack of sympathy. Some days, his humanity shines through in the battle for control over his vessel. In those moments, so can his sympathy. In these events, he has a particular charisma that attracts allies and comrades, especially with the particularly intelligent and wise. In these events, his soft spot for the vulnerable also shows for the youthful or elderly. On the other side of the coin, if he his struggling in his battle, his ruthlessness can come seeping out between the cracks. Only when he has completely fallen to his temptations would he temporarily lose what's left of his humanity, and will become as savage as the wolfmen in folklore.

He would rather not dirty his hands when confronted by a threat. Whether he handles them with henchmen, or if they fail, one hasty blast of his power, they both reflect his busy nature - sooner removing distractions without a second thought so that he may return to his work. Using his own time to personally talk to them or argue or threaten is considered a waste.

Hobbies/Interests:

Hobbies? No hobbies, just work. Always work. But Zeke doesn't hate his work, it's what he lives for. As far as his interests are concerned, let me reiterate: his focus is set on work. Also on learning. Fictitious material, from which there is nothing to be gleaned, scrap it. If he can learn new disciplines, about new cultures, language, medicine, sciences, life, antanomy - anything if it can teach him something. He's a sponge for information. His interest has been centralized mostly around the science of chemistry.

Skills/Talents:

Living for almost three hundred and a half years gives a man a lot of time to pick up a couple of things here and there. Among these, most obviously, would be language. He is fluent in Ukrainian, Russian, English, and German due to necessity, and even picking up a great deal of Latin and Spanish by choice, the latter being almost obligatory due to certain... contacts. He was a political figure for the early part of his life so he knows the nuances of government and partook in warfare throughout his years. Most notably is his understanding of literature, history, and the sciences. His greatest niche is in academics, particularly in chemistry and pharmacology, dabbling in all sorts of chemical reactions and creating all wonders of elixirs and devices - from conventional medicine to wondrous science of meta-chemistry and even constructing chemical-based weapons as well as drugs (steroids, depressants, etc.) and weaponized reactions centered around meta-energy. Most of these devices he may leave lying around, whereas the truly dangerous might be locked away in a hidden safe.

Prized Possession:

Nothing material is of real value to Zeke, save for his notes maybe, but even those are able to be reproduced. Keeping records is good for history, but Zeke's pursuit is for his own benefit. Perhaps the most tangible thing he prizes is this new life, the new band - the New Opryshoks. He likes where they've hidden themselves away, he likes that there are people who share his ambition, and quite frankly he gets weary of packing up and leaving all the time. If there are two things he doesn't want to give up, it is one, his pursuit for a cure and for learning, and two, the New Opryshoks. As far as he's concerned, he has enough power to ensure that nobody could ever be capable of getting in his way.

Quote(s):

"If we have not made an appointment to meet, and still you insist on intruding upon my reading hour, then I'll be forced to politely ask one of my vassals to dispose of you."

"The Changelings? Haven't heard that name in a while. No, I don't care. Let them wreak what havoc they want. Those kids are no longer my concern."

"The wizards of my time were far more powerful than the magicians and mutants of this era. It's groan-inducing to hear you think we are of the same ilk."

"Anti-vaccination advocates are an embarrassing plight of the New World. Many of them prattle on like experts of the chemistry field, but they think that ethylmercury is a compound we should be concerned about."

History/Bio:

Zeke Majahal, born to a line of shliakhta in Ukraine, enjoyed many of the privileges the noble upper class had during his time. His father was in fact a priest and held a very strong influence over Ukrainian politics. This incorporated, of course, education, the command over serfs, higher standard of living, and so forth. He was born, however, in the middle of 30-year long war referred to as "The Ruin". It was a war between the Russians, the Polish, Turks, and Cossacks where each of these individual states sought control over Ukrainian land. Through much of his early life, this war was all he had known. Nobility was a moot point amidst the devastation, and even he lived much like the peasants had, working hard just to earn his keep. When the Eternal Peace Treaty of 1686 came around when he was 16 years old, putting Ukraine under Polish control, it finally seemed as though the struggles were coming to an end. A year later, the Crimean campaigns began. Although both assaults failed, it became clear to Zeke as a young adult that the conflicts would never truly end.

It was in his early twenties that his powers began to manifest. However, meta-humans were not common back in the day. The spontaneous production of metas were only just beginning, making Zeke among the first metas the world has seen - but with powers being the furthest thing from anyone's mind, it was seen as one of a couple things: magic. Some of the more unfortunately early metas were seen as practitioners of witchcraft. The admired as divine blessing. Zeke proclaimed himself a charivnyk like in the tales. Sorcerors, wielders of mythic power. Zeke's ability served his case, as he was able to control his essence of power, the meta-human energy. His ability earned himself a place in the royal court as an advisor. Despite his misleading reputation as a mystic, his concerns were centralized around domestic affairs, due to his own experiences. Over the years, his reputation and power grew, and he studied diligently to learn the cultures of not just his own home, of their allies and foes alike. His cunning and power put him into situations slightly more dangerous than just advising. Being trusted by the court, he also carried the burden of the most dire and pressing matters of elimination in which there was no margin for error. When there was a political enemy just out of reach or military threat so secure, his orders were to reduce them to ash in a heartbeat and be out of there just as quickly.

It wasn't long into his career before his fears were confirmed. Another war had come to Ukraine's doorstep, in the form of a twenty-year-long war. The Great Northern War, fighting under Charles XII of Sweden, to fight the Tsardom of Russia. It was a long and brutal war. Even the political position that Zeke held did not protect him from the desperation his leaders felt, and used him like a weapon, obliterating their enemies, but sparing the poor, as well the the orphaned or widows. Six years into this war, he had already earned himself a couple of names from the enemy. Zeke/Majahal the Nemesis, the Archfoe - by far, the most flattering referred to him as the Opryshok. The power was starting to get to him, and he became a nigh unstoppable force that roamed the countryside, simply deleting armies. It was in that sixth year, after standing alone in a bloodstained battlefield, a young man walked through the spilled blood to face Zeke. He looked to be only sixteen years old, but met Zeke unfazed.

The boy, like Zeke, was one of the first metas in recent history. A cataclysmic battle was fought over the trampled bodies of soldiers. Zeke expended more energy than he ever had to, and the boy had control over the earth itself - dirt, stone, plant-life; all of nature, it would seem. His defenses were sublime, and Zeke's met it with raw power. In the end, Zeke was forced to expend more of his energy than he ever had to before, but his explosive power was made futile. The energy required for the boy to mount a greater defense was simply at a more efficient ratio. Zeke began to suffer ashing, and the boy ended the fight by placing a curse on Zeke. Condemning him for being so consumed by power, he had become beastly. So the boy would rip his soul from his body and replace it with a true beast, also granting him a powerful regeneration factor and long life so that he would suffer the anguish he has inflicted forever, forcing him to fight for his humanity. The regeneration estowed upon him from another's power saved his life, although his were shut off during the ashing since now there would be two different meta-energies swirling around him.

When he awoke, he found himself taking the form of a beast like in the native folktales, the vovkulaka, or werewolf. He knew there would be no returning to the life he had before now, and needless to say, he did not take the transition in stride. He immediately drove himself mad, which gave the curse all the leeway it needed to take over. He went feral and terrorized the countryside until the beast grew tired. He eventually woke up once more, finding himself bathed in the blood of cattle, sheep, and the shepherds that flocked them. He promised himself vengeance upon the boy, the fellow charivnyk, and also to condemn him for his practice in witchcraft. It was then that Zeke truly realized he was not alone in the world of metas. Due to his now beastly appearance, he wasn't given the choice to return back home. Instead, he traveled the Eurasian countryside studying ways he could somehow reverse the effects of his curse, and all the while, attempting to hunt down the boy who had done so.

However, during his time, he made sure to keep information networks that linked him to home. Between the Treaty of Vienna in 1815, and the Hungarian Revolution in 1848, signs were showing that the regioning was once again beginning to destabilize as Russian demanded compensation for their aid, and was seeking control over Ottoman assets via bullying methods. The police nation's expansionism was becoming ever clearer. When 1850 came along, Zeke decided at the ripe age of 180 years old to bring together men and women of power and righteous heart in the effort to defend Ukraine against the inevitable wars that would be fought in its land, in the crossfire between other powers. He had already established his network, he just had to be willing to expose himself to others. Charivnyks, wizards, magi, metas, whatever they called themselves, it was Zeke's hope that they would band together and make a difference. He traveled through the countries of Asia, Europe, and even getting on board ships to travel to America in the midst of its industrial revolution all to garner support. It was hard to find them, especially in those days, but by the time he picked up a meta-boy, named Luis and roughly 17 years old from a pile of coal in one of New York's harshest factories, they were fourteen men and women strong.

Zeke proposed a cause, to defend the weak and poor, the beaten, and to combat the horrors of war. He also proposed a name, a keepsake from his time as Ukrainian weapon: the Opryshoks. None were so fitting, or at least, none could think of one better or suiting. The name wasn't what was really important, it was what they did. As for his role, he didn't feel suited for leadership, and gave that honor to another. The group was made in time for 1854, when the Crimean War had broke out only a few months prior. They made their way overseas and plotted ways to end the conflict before irreparable damage was dealt. At first there were just skirmishes, but as they defended key locations, a strategy came to light. Posing as Russian soldiers, they made an assault against several French bases, forcing France to take a more dedicated leadership against Russian forces. They dedicated the most soldiers toward the war than its allies, and the Opryshoks fought them, as well as the Russians.

Zeke knew the region very well, and as a result, was able to lead a few of the Opryshoks toward certain cities where they could incite revolt by Cossack peasants and Ukrainian landowners, as well as the riots in Trafalgar Square, and the Epirus Revolt of 1854 in Greece. Between pitting the powers against each other, fighting all sides from inside Crimea, and inciting chaos in war-torn lands, the Opryshoks were ultimately able to bring peace to a war in three years that could have lasted up to a decade. The French were high in casualties, and the Russians were facing certain defeat. Both wanted the war to end. The Opryshoks, not allowed to expose themselves as agents of justice, couldn't face the brunt of Russia's armies and had to allow southern Ukraine to be taken, much to Zeke's frustration. The UK continued to weaken the Russian Empire from the inside.

Now without an immediate concern to unite the Opryshoks, there was question on where they should go from there. They ultimately fell off from being a reckoning force in war to Robin Hood-esque shenanigans. There was some sense of fulfillment to be found in bringing justice to the corrupt rich, and defending the poor - and certainly some dire trouble they had gotten themselves into, all worthy of story, and Zeke was ever the intellectual - but at some point they became little more than brigands. The Opryshoks began falling apart until there were three left, including Zeke, Luis, and a woman named Mary from Ireland. Zeke was virtually immortal. Luis has aged very slowly, looking as though he was in his early twenties. The latter wasn't much more than a sailor, fisher woman, and navigator. There was no unanimous agreement as Mary had no opinion of where to go, as long as she had a place to be. Luis sought to change the nature of the Opryshoks so as to preserve it. Zeke, while originally against it, complied as he had no better alternative on where to take it.

Opryshoks transformed itself at first into an organization of payed muscle, so that they could at least revitalize themselves. In the past, Zeke might have feared that the path the Opryshoks have been set on would eventually rear its ugly head, but his age has caught up with him emphatically and Zeke grew jaded. He proposed a change in name, to the Changelings. He said it was to punctuate the ever-changing nature of their band, and their fluidity, but the truth of his idea in a name change came from the Welsh legend of changelings. It was more of a bemusement to himself, as a comment on his prediction on where the newly-founded Changelings would take themselves.

The 1900s were a changing point. The Opryshoks between then and the 1850s practically did not exist and fell off the record. The Changelings rose from its ashes, but with new purpose. To self preserve, a unity or brotherhood of metahumans, and initially to preserve their secrecy. They had grown wise enough to expect the repercussions from the rest of mankind should they learn of the kind of god-like power some people held within their midst. They maintained a contract with a lab and they were a reliable and consistent source of income for their group. They were even enlisted as agents working in the World Wars, where Mary was their transportation, Zeke the brains, and Luis handled most of the operations.

Even through these years, Zeke diligently studied chemistry, medicine, and the body - even studying what notes that were left behind after the liberation of several concentration camps. There still were no answers to his search, and the boy that cursed him was likely long dead by now. He was quite known among the ranks for live experimentation on animal subjects, but there eventually came a time when even humans entered the mix. Initially it was volunteered service, before they fell into kidnapping. Up into the fifties, it seemed if any of the Changelings wanted to find him, he was back at home base in his quarters. Reading some informative text or experimenting. Mary was long gone from the Changelings by that point.

After submitting a personal request to his own organization, they managed to hunt down a special kind of power-class meta-human. Someone that could strengthen, give, or take powers away. Zeke didn't ask kindly, however... instead, they suffered torturous inspection, study, experimentation, before he eventually killed them. He stole their power in hopes the power he'd receive would cure him of his curse. Instead, he received a boon in the form of time-space abilities. It was around this time that the nature of the Changelings took a turn for the worse.

In the sixties, when they admitted a sick, insane man into their ranks, Zeke took a peek from his books and from his table and took a look at where they've been progressing. From the Opryshok defenders, to a feared mercenary meta-human band on the black market. They weren't defending anything anymore, not even the secrecy of meta-kind. No pursuit of knowledge, or enlightenment. Destruction had become their forte, and that could be found in even Luis' new pseudonym, a man who was once so gentle and yet fierce. So rare could a passionate heart be found, and it fell to corruption. With the admission of mad men, there really was no pride to be found here. He left the Changelings on his own whim - an act that he used to condemn, an act that he originally forbid in the first place, and he was the one who set in motion the punishments to be inflicted should that act ever be committed.

None but maybe Luis were powerful enough to so much as challenge Zeke's decision, but after the surge of power Zeke has taken from the power-class meta ten years prior, it would've been an indecisive match. It was far less risky to simply let him walk. So Zeke continued his travels and left the Changelings behind. From Eurasian regions once again, to the Americas, the frigid Canadian wastes, he studied life wherever he went. Maintaining control of the beast for the most part, save for a time in 1995 in Puerto Rico. It was his fault for the sudden craze in the chupacabra urban legend. Many years later, in 2003, he met a young man in Alaska: an animal-meta struggling through the thros of his transformation, and struggling to control those instincts. Zeke made a pause in his travels, and perhaps it was a day in which he was winning his own battle with the beast. His sympathy shone through, and taught the growing boy what he could about controlling the beast and fighting the urges and temptations that come and go, and what it means to be human. There was a bit of training involved (and he wasn't a very nice teacher, he was fairly cranky), and Zeke halted his progress for a couple days before picking up and leaving again.

Seven years ago, he met an older woman by the name of Faust. An alchemist, as she called herself, but she far more talented than the alchemists of three hundred years ago. He found an appreciation for her, and the practice of an art that he long thought dead. Though she didn't share the same interest in what he claimed was magic, and insisted he was the same like every other meta - the charivnyks that he saw these days were looking more like mutants and demons than they did in the past. Whether they were abominations or practitioners of witchcraft, or suffering animal curses, he saw his own powers as above theirs. Regardless, he made a proposition to Faust, to help him establish a long-dead organization, which would now be dedicated to the pursuit of learning, self-fulfillment, but differentiated itself from the Hands of Science via a more righteous cause. Knowledge for the sake of knowledge, and the curing of curses and ailments.

With her approval, he brought about the birth of the New Opryshoks. It became an organization of secrecy, and only the two's combined approval could admit those who were worthy - as to avoid the same fate that met the Changelings. Their methods weren't too radically different, but they didn't go out with the intention of kidnapping, rather, let prey conveniently come to to them. Ghastly procedure, absolutely, Faust thought of it. Zeke agreed with her, but it never did seem to faze him or slow him down. The more regular an occurrence it became, the more desensitized Faust became, but she never really did get used to it. On the bright side to this, the two made great strides in innovation, by bringing together the science of chemistry and meta-human energy. Some inventions and formulas they had beaten even the Hands of Science to, but never patented them or sought to slow down the progress of competitors. They didn't have any real concern over who got their hands on that technology. They just pursued their science for its own sake. For the longest time, it was just those two, until Zeke found an orphaned child with an intriguing and grotesque ability, taking on the properties of many different kinds of fungus, as well as being able to produce any kind of fungus.

This was one day his sympathy was able to shine through, much like the encounter ten years before. He invited the child, Marty, to the New Opryshoks and guaranteed his protection. Faust was indignant with Zeke's decision to go and invite people without the two's mutual consent, but he was able to make her agree with the argument of his ability's infinite use in her own experiments. A limitless supply of any fungus she could dream of was something that was simply... too good to pass up. In addition, he could even set up land mines of mushrooms that could puff toxic spores in the faces of invaders, so that was another boon. It wasn't before long did the three become like family, sharing the same quarters all the time, with the charm of a young, trusting child to lighten the mood. A family, like the original Opryshoks should have been. Recent events are not outside their notice, but seeing as how it does not concern them, they seen no reason to get themselves involved in the matters of the people above ground.

Underground caverns outside Verthaven became their base. It used to be a California gold mine that had been abandoned. The largest room holds a brick-layed tower that used to hold all of the necessary supplies and acted like what was essentially a checkpoint in a supply line. After a bit of restoration, it became their hideaway. The entrance to the caverns is easily mistaken for a bear's cave, and has tall fallen trees obscuring it. Rumors and ghost stories surround it as a place where people disappear should they go exploring the woods at night when they aren't supposed to. Mushrooms and other kinds of normally rare fungus have invaded the area, and can be found throughout the caverns.

Relationships

Family:

N/A

Dynamics:

Basically your character's relationship with other characters.
{Character Name} | {Impression (Good/Bad/Neutral} | {Relationship (Friend, Rival, Crush, etc)} | {Character Thoughts via in-character quote} |

Abilities

Power Class:

Power, Other

Power:

Power.

Literally, his power is power. Zeke may not be aware of it, but he is a meta-human capable of using his very own meta-human energy to concentrate and condense it into a tangible, yet volatile, purple-colored energy product. With this product, he can use it to enhance certain aspects of himself or of others, imbue objects or substances with it, or use it and its tremendous impact to cause harm - with no collateral or consequential damage. No poison, or flames to set fire, or even strength sapping, just unadulterated violent power. As an energy, there is a variety of ways he can change its shape to and control it, but the energy release and the pressure of its containment is immense, so it would be more stamina-efficient and easier on his concentration to simply follow a "contain and release" protocol to take full advantage of any offensive usage in high-pressure situations. He can concentrate so much of this energy into one location, it can manifest as a small aura-surrounded crystal of condensed energy. When released, it shoots off like a comet.

Zeke is power-hungry, and went so far as to kill a very powerful meta-human in pursuit of it and of a cure for his curse. The act granted him powers reigning over space-time. However, his range is introspective, and most of its effects are isolated occurrences that solely surrounds Zeke and Zeke only. The range of abilities this new power grants him include the manipulation of time that surrounds him, allowing an isolated temporal dislocation. He theoretically pauses a moment of time that leaves himself behind. This effect lasts for about six seconds or so. During that six seconds, he can perform whatever action he wishes, suffer however much harm, and will be instantly transported back at the end of that six seconds or until he manually ends the effect. Whatever harm he has suffered is gone. This ability affects his physical self, so his memories remain intact. Whatever damage or actions Zeke has caused remains. This proves to be an excellent method of expending great amounts of energy with little consequence.

One other ability that his hunger for power brought was very minor teleportation. He can blink, move forward through space at a distance of 20 feet or so. This ability, in a way, throws him through space, so he has inertia coming out the other side. This has good and bad consequences, the good being it gives him something of a push-off to move quicker. On a scale, you can perceive this as a linear distance.

Limits:

Crystalline forms of his energy is very taxing and is the pinnacle of his ability to condense energy. As for space-time abilities, there are very limiting factors. His ability to reserve himself a place in time has few, and fairly inconsequential aside from the 6 second time limit. The space-time fabric is a delicate mistress, and it'll be impossible for him to perform that action again for a duration of five minutes so that the fabric can refill itself. Displacement has a max limit of 20 feet and he must be able to see where he'll be landing. There has to be a physical foundation for him to land on. This is the ability able to be most frequently used, at about 30 seconds between each use, but the energy requirements is compounding. It takes more energy to use it after each consecutive use, and requires some recovery time in order for it to be energy efficient again.

Weaknesses/Drawbacks:

One drawback is that he is throwing his meta-energy at his target, which means he will run out, but will eventually replenish it. His presence of energy, while much greater than most if not all meta-humans, isn't so great that it off-sets this drawback. One notable drawback is the barely noticeable transfer of energy from him to his target. His target will actually receive an amount of his energy to their system. It supplements their natural meta energy (assuming his target is a meta) and will actually reduce their chances of ashing unless he overloads them. On that same note, Zeke's has such great power in each of those abilities and each ability draws out so much energy that he has greater chances of suffering from ashing than anyone else. This has, in fact, already happened - Zeke's curse possesses a regeneration factor, and is separate from Zeke's own energy. So while his own powers are turned off during ashing, the curse is still fast at work. During ashing, his body is constantly tearing itself apart and building itself back together. It becomes an agonizing state in which he is left defenseless and has little choice but to retreat, or require someone to help him retreat. He begins recovering as soon as the ashing ends, and there is no predicting when that might happen.

ITD has one huge glaring drawback. The faintest image of Zeke remains, like a mirage. Just barely visible. He will return to that spot at the end of the six seconds or until he ends the effect himself. This can give his enemies some time for preparation if Zeke isn't already keeping their hands full. One drawback of displacement is the aforementioned inertia. If he blinks with the intention of holding ground and to perform a counter-attack, he'd first have to hold his ground and resist that residual force that pushes him along. The sudden inertia can be disorienting.

Unrelated to his power, there is one other thing that Zeke suffers from. Ages ago in a time long passed, a curse was set upon him by another meta-human in punishment of his hubris. In perhaps too naive a way to teach him what it is like to suffer losing himself, the Ukrainian savant was cursed to live as a beast, his soul stolen, and replaced with one of a rabid wolf. Following the traditional legends of werewolves with one outstanding exception: he cannot change back. Zeke, unlike animal metas, does not feel a sense of identity with his beast. Rather, the sensation of two entities within one cage, and they both eternally wrestle for the key and to establish dominance over their host body. Losing control of his emotions weakens the bind he has set on his inner beast, and may incite turmoil within him.

Other:

Partial NPC, won't be posted as too terribly often, but may eventually play a more significant role.

Verthaven: Days of Rain ☔ [COMPLETED]

<Snipped quote by tsukune>

When Allen and I finish the current RAVEN mission Henry's probably gonna be in Chinatown (A place he frequents for good reason). If your characters are there, we should totally have them meet.

It'll probably stem from Henry complaining about the constant (and strange?) amounts of rain.

@UrbanEvolution

Maybe Henhen sees Reyna getting hired for a job by an ol Chinese lady at a fireworks shop.

Verthaven: Days of Rain ☔ [COMPLETED]

Peter Brooke

Name:

Peter Brooke

Age:

45

Description:

A man made entirely of a unique metal alloy unable to be found in neither nature nor factory, tall and imposing, body muscularly sculpted, and with only a single arm. Peter was a Maine-born stem cell doctor and disabled United States army veteran before he was indoctrinated into the Hands of Science, before he made a decision to end his own life. He volunteered in testing the Hands' completed power-serum prototype giving him the body and powers he possesses now, turning him into human super-weapon. Cunning, brilliant, deadly, and willing to do anything for the sake of advancing his work, Peter has proved to be more than what NEST can handle. His actions call into question of what remains of his humanity, but so does the altruism of his medical research. Where his allegiance lies among the Hands of Science is blurry at best.

Powers:

There is little left of Peter's original body other than its shape. His body is made completely up with a shiny, sleek, non-rusting and non-corroding metallic skin strong enough that it allows him to be very much capable of withstanding beatings that would kill most other people. Further, this metallic body appears to be simply a boat for another ability: his brain is a generator. It produces generous amounts of electricity of which he is capable of controlling. He can control the flow of the current through any part of his body, keeping the current in place in his head or in his hands, and even arcing the electricity into the environment around him. This allows him incredible reflexes normal humans aren't capable of reaching, since the transfer of electricity through the metal alloy is faster than the electric signals sent from a standard brain to the neurons in your typical nervous system. However, his perceptions of sight and sound as we know it had been eradicated completely, and is seemingly vulnerable to the world around him. However, there's a method for him getting around this. Arcing low-voltage currents of electricity into his surroundings allows him to know where the current stops or where it is interrupted, giving him a sense of where things are. Interactions with this current creates a sound that "resonates" back to Peter, and sound waves causes a similar form of interaction. The change in sound waves also changes the sound Peter receives, so is capable of understanding speech. Similarly, interaction with this static sends his metal body a message allowing him to perceive something akin to a sense of touch, though the force or texture of such doesn't change the sensation. He can channel large amounts of electricity to form straight-up lightning bolts or controlled energy where he can condense electricity and form it into shapes - thereby creating an arm for his right shoulder which he can control. Using electricity, he can also create electro-magnetic fields which he can freely control, allowing him to stick to surfaces, launch himself through space like a railgun, control magnetized metal, and use it on himself to enhance his strength and repair damages. He can also receive information from technology from their electric signals.

Verthaven: Days of Rain ☔ [COMPLETED]

---

Lihua Vuhong, & Task Force RAVEN, vs Peter Brooke.

---

Do you have eyes on him? Lihua sent out the thought to the little mental network Adam set up. Since the comms were down, this was the best thing they had, so they have no choice but to make good use of him.

Leon was leaning up against the walls of the cell with a containment foam sprayer in hand. You're gonna be reeeeeeeeal pissed....

You lost him.... Lihua sent a mental groan. God damn it!

Yeeeeeeeah, I'll find him. Just gimme a minute. Leon nodded his head as he scanned the area, he immediately went down the hallway - he heard a bunch of footsteps splashing within the darkness. Oh?

What do you mean "Oh?" Lihua replied.

Think we got boogies...

What- Lihua thought - before she saw a red light down the hallway. She and Adam immediately ducked as a red orb of energy went over her head, and left a black scorch mark behind her.

"Shit! They let out the level-sevens!" One of the Agents shouted as the hallway erupted in a hail of gunfire and shouting. Powers were getting used left and right.

"Why the hell are they coming down here?!" Lihua shouted through the chaos, before it hit her. He was turning them into fodder! To weaken their defenses. Clever, but when they spring their trap, it won't matter. She looked down the hallway that had many cells leading down it.

Should we come out? Leon sent the mental messages.

No, no, the plan is still going on... He just added a little twist to things.... Lihua replied, narrowing her eyes. If we let him think his plan worked, then our plan will be twice as effective.

"Adam." She nodded at him. "Looks like we gotta get a little blood on our hands."

"No mercy." Adam nodded. "These men and woman are the worst. They have long renounced their humanity."

Lihua put her hand out, and clenched it into a fist. She gathered sharp concrete blades into an orb with a blade sticking in every direction. Before she raised both hands in the air, and pulled many concrete shards out of the ground, and created several more of these bladed weapons. Before she sent them flying down the hallway - the first one hit someone in the face, and pierced their skull before it exploded and sent heavy concrete shards all over the place. Damaging every escapee in the process. The rest rolled on the floor, and got deep into their ranks as possible.

"Run!" Dante gave Lihua the satisfaction of making him shout - before it exploded and a shard went right through his skull. The rest of the blades devastated everyone else that didn't have a resistance to physical damage. Many were standing, but several had fallen.

Adam was going to fix that soon as possible - he sent his Echo out at high speeds, and it punched someone square in the face. Breaking his skull instantly. Adam aggressively barraged them with a hail of fists and fury to keep them suppressed. Punches and kicks were countered with instant speed.

One final punch sent a man flying right back into the darkness of the hallway

"Keep an eye open for him!" Lihua said.

There was a brief moment of silence in the dark hallway, or as quiet as it could be with the splattering water and ringing alarms. A sudden sensation of static enveloped the agents, more noticeable due to the wet surface. Over the metal cell doors and walls, the smallest noises from inside vibrated against the doors and caused a disturbance and interacted with the static that they were conducted with. Agents were hiding. Something was hiding.

'Pincer formation. Clever idea... but you can't hide from me.'

Only Leon could hear the brief sound of a metallic click. The sound of a repetitive gunfire rang through the dark hallway as a hail of bullets ripped through the air towards Adam.

There was barely time to react before the bullets hit Adam. Once in the thigh, another in the forearm, another in the shoulder, and so on... Adam fell backwards after letting out a loud yell. Bleeding.

"Blackmore!" Lihua shouted, reaching out towards Adam. "Christ!" She turned back towards the hallway, and pulled the concrete that was acting as a bulwark off the ground, and made it float up in the air to act as a shield for herself, and Adam. This presents a problem. Now they couldn't message the team hiding in the cells for the sneak attack. Which meant that she'd have to find an alternative means of messaging him.

Her head peaked out from behind her shield slightly, and the first line of defense fell to the escapees. Which meant that part of her blockade was no longer needed. She pushed her hand out, and shot the concrete spikes at the very front of the barricade out. They impaled two escapees, but the rest went into the darkness.

The Agents were fighting with all they had to keep the escapees out. Which was a lot harder without Adam and his Echo suppressing them.

'One down'. This was all too familiar to the last operation - Agent Blackmore had the same shadow-man ability as the agent leader before him. It was just as annoying as before, and like before, he was the first one apart from NEST's mooks to fall. To avoid the results of their last skirmish, he had to play it safe. Now, as for the rats hiding in their holes...

Peter removed the magazine clip from the assault gun, using his teeth when needed. He emptied it of its bullets, allowing them to drop to the ground, before attracting them into the air with his hand. Infusing them with a charge, the repelled one another, and they levitating in the air. They were calmly sent through the air, in a circular pattern, using the electrical field on the ground to keep them in place until they were in the center of the hall.

Peter felt himself struggle. 'A-ah... so it looks like this test is useful after all. I'm at my limit - centering a field where I am not the focal point is... a lot harder than I expected.'

Peter took a few paces forward to extend the range of his next maneuver. He preferred being in their blind spot, but some things were unavoidable. Following a spinning halo of bullets, he reached the edge of their field of vision, and their lights revealed a faint glimmer as they reflected off of his skin. As he walked, forward, each door he intersected with had a heavy clicking sound. Doors he walked past locked themselves as he closed in, which allowed him greater finesse with his ability to magnetize objects. Doing it as he aimed his weapon was something of a task however.

The lights shone over the spinning halo of bullets. Lihua and Leon were already deathly familiar with it.

Hmph. Things aren't looking too good. Lihua shook her head. All this defense in the name of someone who ratted out her conspirators? Hmph. Lihua knew it was just as likely he was coming to tie up a loose end than liberate the former Director. At this point, Lihua found it hard to care what happens to the bitch. Truthfully, it was more than just Miranda. It was stopping Peter. He is simply too strong to live - regardless of what little humanity he holds onto. Lihua was foolish for letting all this happen, but, once again, she was going to do everything to set it right.

Can I? Lihua asked herself.

"I think he's there!" An Agent called out, pointing at the glimmers.

Time to find out, shall we? Lihua pulled back the myriad of concrete shards she sent at the prisons at high speeds. They were cutting through the air, and prisoners, until they'd hit something that'd stop them. It wasn't to damage him - if anything, it would further injure the prisoners - but it was to confirm Peter's location.

A cacophony of screams erupted in the darkness, but there was one gratifying result amongst the horror - a sharp metallic ping, and the sound of stone clicking as it fell to the ground. A moment of silence had followed, and Peter retaliated. The magnetic field around the bullets repelled them, and they immediately shot them forward, focused mostly at the agents apart from Lihua as she had her wall to hide behind.

Fortunately, most of the Agents were using the concrete barricades that Lihua erected as shields. However, a few were pierced with bullets, their armor couldn't stop it.

"It's here..." Lihua narrowed her eyes. They're going to need a plan soon. The loud clicking of the cells meant that Peter just locked the Agents in as he walked by. Irritating. Peter was easily the most annoying opponent that Lihua had ever faced. By the sheer virtue of everything they could throw at it being ineffective save for containment foam.

Though that meant they had to be creative

The lights had finally flickered back to life, a bright white light filling the hallways and slightly blinding anyone who had adjusted to the dark. Peter looked around, noticing the sudden return of electricity. Pools of blood mingled with the water on the ground, and the entire surface was red, soaking the feet of all the remaining agents.

"Your technicians work quickly." Peter commented.

"We have the best of the best." Lihua retorted. Now, at least they have some chance, but that still presented a problem. They needed to get the Agents behind Peter out. And that would be a feat.

Peter faced his head down at the dent the subsonic rock Lihua shot at him made on his chest, on top of the left pectoral. He had known about this the moment it had happened. He figured he might as well mention it to his enemy, so that he might discourage them further. "Nice shot."

He raised his palm over the chest, and streams of electricity were visibly arcing between his hand and his body, before the massive magnetic force finally forced the metal of his body to fit his form and was undented. He lowered his hand - his chest was sculpted back to normal.

He was probably waiting for this, but Lihua knew that they had to slow him down until reinforcements come. She gathered more rocks, and made them float in the air in front of her shield. While he was repairing himself, more rocks went flying at him in hopes that he would be tripped. Then she'll try to foam him herself. It's the only thing she can do now with her forces taken out.

The first stone hit Peter's shoulder, and given its impact, it was enough to let Peter take Lihua's attacks seriously. The rest of them Peter was able to react to with sharp reflexes. Peter composed himself and began pacing down the hall toward the blockade, wading through the blood soiled water.

"We have been through this before." Peter warned. "Give up. You know what will come of you if you insist on getting in my way."

"You are correct. We have done this only twice, and I am so tired of this routine." Lihua willed two pieces of stone to step on. This is one risky gambit, and she knew that she had to have her guard up. She let out a sigh as she dropped the containment foam sprayer, and crushed it underneath her shield. She held her hands up into the air. "This is simply a fight I cannot win. We have expended all options, and I simply don't care enough about Caryl. She's served her purpose." Lihua folded her hands behind back.

"If you would allow me to pass, I'll stay out of your way."

"You were behind the glass. You know who I am." Peter said dryly, continuing to pace forward. "How stupid or gullible do you think I am?"

Hmph. "I have two daughter, Brooke." Lihua mentioned. "I have far too much to lose to continue this fight." God damn it, just let me pass. Lihua thought to herself. She realized that maybe she'll have to do this the hard way. She kept that shield of concrete up.

"Prove it." Peter demanded. "Open the cell. Take your comrade's gun. If the Director has outlived herself, then prove it to me by killing her."

The cell block was the most protected spot in the entire facility. Made to hold any measure of meta-human. Peter suspected that if he were to step foot in there, it would be over for him.

"You see... Brooke..." Lihua said. For Blackmore's gambit to work, Peter has to get in there. "Only a certified and high enough ranking Agent can get in there." She shrugged. "Remember that woman from the night you attacked us...? The one you were using as a shield against Cornell's Echo?"

She was just bluffing. Buying time. She gathered as much spare concrete as she could, and tried to form a drill through the floor. She just needed to buy a little bit of time.

"If that is the case, then you wouldn't be allowed here after risking her life just to land a hit on me." Peter commented. "I am getting annoyed. What did I just ask? How gullible do you think I am?"

Lihua tore the visitor pass hanging off her chest off, and threw it across the floor for Peter to look at. "Visitor. I'm just here to get some confirmation...." Lihua trailed off. "I have to say, your trick was fooling us into thinking that you actually retained some humanity." The drill was still doing it's work, it was getting taxing holding up this shield. Since it appeared that Peter wouldn't let her go by easily, she stepped off the rocks she was floating on, and added that to the rock drill.

"How foolish I was to start all of this...."

"Humanity?" Peter asked. "Subjective. Not black and white. It is what kept me from killing a mother on a whim, but you are stalling for time. If you keep me much longer, I will be rid of you, then your comrades, and then I will throw a grenade at the Director's feet. When I am done, your children will be next, and I will let them know you were the reason why they are going to die."

Lihua had to keep her cool, she knew exactly what he was trying. He was trying to get her to do something rash. Even if he "throws a grenade" in there, that room is armored to the tits. Just like Blackmore said, it takes a few moments for powers to disable - which leaves a super-system Meta with enough time to toss a few punches. The drill was almost threw, she just needed. One. More. Second.

Lihua laughed like a noblewoman. "That is such a disgraceful tactic an Aberration like yourself would resort to. Threatening a parent's children?" She scoffed. "Our conflict is between the two of us, and it should stay that way."

"I. Don't. Threaten." Peter said gravely, his voice sinking into an inhuman tone - more robotic than anything, Peter raised his hand, creating a field between him and the wall behind Lihua, pulling himself as quick as an arrow towards his target. His arm punched a hole through the wall Lihua hid behind and grabbed for her throat - the impact his body made on the wall made it crack along the whole surface.

Lihua was expecting this. She knew that she could only buy a few seconds. So, once he punched through the wall, Lihua stepped to the side using reflex alone. She let out a sigh. The drill she made finally pierced through the floor, and gave her a perfect exit. She gave Peter a bored look, raising her hand.

".... You should know by now I'm no beginner."

She swiped her hand, and what was left of the wall she made detached from the ground and went flying down the hallway (Hopefully with Peter with it). Then, she turned around and hopped into the hole. With the drill forming a patch for the hole that she recently created. She pulled two rocks from the ceiling, and made them float under her feet. Riding them far away from Peter as possible. She didn't know whether or not he would pursue, but reinforcements should be closing in any second now

The wall tossed his weight a bit, but he quickly magnetized his feet to the ground - mostly pointless, as the wall crumbled and fell apart the moment it met resistance. He looked down the hole - it dug down the the level below the detention block.

He looked back to the Director's door. Change of plan. He assaulted the door with dozens of magnetized-aided punches, denting it and breaking parts until he was able to grab the door itself and yank it open, ripping it from its hinges. Looking inside, he saw nothing. A dead spot. Someplace his field couldn't reach. He had no way of knowing if there was another door between layers.

'Won't risk it.'

Peter grabbed onto the door he tore off and threw his arm back, charging his body and ready to throw the door with all of his might. He tossed it, and heavy chunk of metal shot like a bullet. Aimed at the edge of the door, by the lock, he forced the second door open with pure force, breaking the lock inside.

There was no way he could see Miranda inside the cell. His field couldn't reach. All he could do is pretend he was on her side. For all she knew, she still had information on NEST the Hands could use. Better than to be locked up in isolation, right?

"Director Miranda Caryl," Peter called, "the Hands of Science sends their regards. I am to escort you to our headquarters immediately. We can discuss what you've learned during your time here once we return."

"That's Former Director to you." Miranda said, wryly. Sitting down up against the wall. She looked unfazed by the door opening. "Surprised you bastards didn't go the simple route and just sneak some poison in my food." She shrugged. She stood straight up, and looked through the hole at her "savior". A tall metal bastard. She has no idea what, or who, it is.

"You possess intel on NEST that cannot be compared to a handful of scientists with an overnight cram session." Peter explained.

Miranda quietly laughed. "Even after my failures pulled the cover on the Hands?" Miranda scoffed.

"That is to be discussed. Your... honesty is what kept you alive, yes? There will be terms and conditions regarding our continued cooperation."

"If you're worried about me leaking anything about the Hands, don't bother. I kept my lips sealed." Miranda lied to the Metal Man, she told them everything in hopes that NEST would be able to stick it to the Hands. "Before I even consider leaving this cell, I want Dr. Cross' given word that I'll be kept alive."

"As I said," Peter reassured, "you are a valuable asset. Dr. Cross personally assigned me this mission. NEST wants you contained. If we want to survive their reinforcements, I suggest you follow along with me before they arrive."

"Better than sitting own my ass all day...." Miranda groaned, there was a part of her that knew that she was going to die. Might as well face it with dignity rather than waiting for him to come and tear her to pieces. She slipped through the hole that Peter made through the door, and stepped into the field. She sighed as she paced forward towards Peter until she was close.

"For now, you are a hostage." Peter explained. "NEST shouldn't make any moves if they can't guarantee your safety. They value your intel on the Hands, too."

He slowly wrapped his hand around Miranda's throat. "It'll be much more uncomfortable if you struggle too much. Try to relax and I'll be sure we both escape."

Miranda felt he was going to break her neck. She nodded her head as he did so.

---

There was a point where Lihua decided that Peter was not pursuing her. Lihua stepped off the rocks, and nodded. She had to figure out what to do from here. Leave the Headquarters and let it out to destroy the city (Or kill her daughters), or try to join the resistance? All plans they pulled against it had failed miserably. Their only hope is to box... Wait. Lihua had another plan.

Lihua heard a mass of footsteps, and she quickly ran towards it. It was a squad of NEST Agents, with Maximilian standing in the midst of them. "Age- Lihua." Maximilian said, as he faced her.

"I'm ready to face scolding."

"No. This is my fault." Maximilian said. "I should have destroyed it while I had the chance."

We both made a mistake here. Lihua replied.

"I have an idea. Do we have enough men to fill the floors above and underneath the hallway to the Apex Cells?" Lihua said.

"I don't know."

"He has enhanced senses. If we foam him, he won't be a threat." Lihua said. "He is strong enough to break through the floors. If we can surprise him during his escape, we'll have him fully foamed."

Maximilian put his hand on his chin, before he swiped his hand in the air. He put his finger on his earpiece, fortunately, they got the comms back online after the power. "All Agents, take position on the floors above and below the Apex Cells."

"Yes sir!" Almost every Agent said in unison.

"Also, he locked the Agents in the cells. You can use your Echo to quickly unlock the door-" Lihua was cut off when Maximilian handed her an earpiece.

"For you. You may be suspended, but I know you want to stop it as much as anyone else."

Lihua nodded her head as she slid her earpiece in. She would savor this moment if she wasn't fearing for her life.

"Agents on the fourteenth floor are in position." The comms went alive with Dana's voice, who, thankfully, stayed hidden until the power and all the security systems went back online. "Agents on the sixteenth floor are getting into position."

Maximilian grabbed his foamer. "Let's go. I guess we're going to be in the hallway."

Let's just pray we don't get another repeat. What happened here... oddly reflects what happened a week ago. Lihua thought to herself.

---

Maximilian and Lihua marched down the Apex Cell with a squad of Agents. Maximilian immediately called out his Echo, and he handed his shadow the key. Echo immediately went to work unlocking cell doors to let the Agents out.

Helena near instantaneously flash stepped out of the room. She looked down the hallway at the bleeding Adam. "Adam!" She flashstepped to him, grabbed him, and flash stepped out of the way.

Leon stepped out of one of the cells. "Oh boy, hope ya'll gotta plan." Leon said.

"Don't we always?" Lihua asked.

"... And don't they always fail."

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained..." Lihua groaned as she walked down the hallway, now joined by Leon and the Agents in the cell.

Echo stood above Maximilian with his arms crossed as Maximilian aimed his foamer at Peter. "Give up, PR-1." Maximilian called out. "We have you surrounded!"

"Peter." He corrected as he held Miranda in the air by her throat. "Don't waste my time with bluffing. You haven't executed her yet because you need her and the secrets she has. I can react in a hair of a second. Try anything and she dies."

He did not even wait for a response before he started walking toward the crowd. Neither did he seem to be taking very great care of the former director as he held her aloft, and none of their raised weapons seemed to do much to falter him.

"Maximilian, you have to make a choice," Lihua whispered, pleading with Maximilian to see the light. In Lihua's eyes, the Director was useless. "We let a Metahuman superweapon walk out the door, or we risk the woman who isn't even of any use to us."

"I-" Max was cut off by Peter.

"Fantastic logic, agent." Peter commented, not even slowing down. "It'd seem your lesson wasn't as impacting as you claimed. Some lives aren't as equal as others?"

This thing can hear her. Right. She forgot. Lihua utterly ignored what Peter said. That didn't matter. They needed to stop Peter here and now before he becomes a long-term problem. This morality over common-sense bullshit was going to bite them in the ass.

"I am literally fifteen feet from you and counting, and you still aren't out of my way yet." Peter warned.

"There's a choice, Max. Either sacrifice one life, or lose a thousand more Agents." Lihua said. "You have to make the choice."

"Agents on the sixteenth floor are in position." Dana noted.

Maximilian looked down at his foamer. This... this was not an ideal situation. There were so many things going on, Maximilian's breath sped up. Let the Director die and forsake morality. Or preserve morality, and become the organization that people believe they are. Logic or emotion.

"Maxi," Leon called Maximilian by that little pet name Sonya gave him. Facing him with the foamer in hand. "I know what's going on in your head, but I think if you're going to make a choice - ah, know what? I'm on your side, regardless of what you do - but you gotta make it now."

Peter stopped in front Maximilian with Miranda in hand, looking down at him. Without a real face, it was difficult to tell, but it wasn't hard to guess that Peter was getting impatient.

"The Hands are not my friends. But I've a choice to make as well, and I chose to ensure the futures of the wretched." Peter told him. "Be a man and make your choice."

Sweat was trickling down Maximilian's head with every word Peter said - what everyone said was making this decision so much harder. God damn it! He's the Director! He's supposed to be good at these situations. How would the world feel if NEST casually discarded lives to achieve results? How would NEST feel if he let a killing machine continue to cut them down? His hand was shaking, and his breath started to get heavy.

Everyone was right.

There was a choice to be made here, and it'll change him as a person - more than anything else he's seen while on duty.

"Agents..." Maximilian said, closing his eyes. "I have made my decision." He nodded his head. He took in one breath, before he exclaimed,

"Spray him down! Do not let him esca--"



Peter's hand clenched around Miranda's throat instantly, causing the former Director to spray blood everywhere from her mouth. Foam began to envelop him from all directions as Peter once against felt the cold grip of depression strike at him again. Years of work, of research, and all of it was going to waste as he would be put asleep for an indeterminable amount of time. 'If only I had a chance to know where I first went wrong... my first wrong turn... then maybe I would've found a way.'

Maximilian immediately dropped to his knees, holding his hands onto his head. He was staring at the floor. It was over, PR-1 was detained again. The sound of Miranda's neck cracking played in his head over and over and over again. "What...." Maximilian trailed off. "... What did I do wrong?"

"You..." Leon put his hand on his chin, looking at the bloody cadaver getting engulfed in foam. "... made a choice." He put his hand on Maximilian's shoulder. "Now, if you ever want to talk about anything, I'm here."

Lihua grimaced. To be so cold hearted and merciless... It was unforgivable. She felt a twinge of sympathy for the former Director... but then realized that this is the culmanation of her sins. "The results..." She said, "The world only needs to know the results" She faced Maximilian. He was taking this hard - but, it was the right thing to do. So what she was being cold... she had to think of the longterm. And morality is oh so short term.

"However, I am responsible for what happened here." Lihua turned sideways, facing Maximilian. "I truly am a selfish, selfish, woman." Lihua sighed. Coming to terms with her words and misdeeds was merely the beginning. She knew that she couldn't hold the moral high ground, and didn't even want to try at this point.

"Get him into the Apex Cell...." Maximilian groaned.

The Agents nodded as they ran back to grab a hauler.

"... And don't ever let him out."

Maximilian turned around, squeezing his eyes shut, marching down the hall and pushing his way through the crowd, giving none of the agents a second glance. As he finally squeezed his way out, he somberly looked down at his feet as he walked, catching a glimpse at his hands. He stopped. The gloves he had worn... they were drenched with Miranda Caryl's blood from that moment she died. He turned back around and watched as agents hauled... Dr. Peter Brooke away. Somewhere, in all of that foam, there was also a dead woman that he could have saved. This is what it meant to have control over lives.

Verthaven: Days of Rain ☔ [COMPLETED]

---

Lihua Vuhong, Task Force RAVEN, & PR-1.

---

It was a strenuous effort, despite Helena's best protests to leave well enough alone, to transport PR-1 to the Questioning Room. He was coated from the neck down in containment foam that would be a task for even the strongest Super-System type to break, and had a power suppressant collar around his neck. Carried into the room via a special hauler. PR-1 was placed up against the interview table - with the Agents that hauled him in immediately leaving the room. Those Agents left the room to form the squad that was waiting outside the door should PR-1 attempt to escape.

Lihua stepped up to the two-way mirror, and put her hand on her chin as she watched. She knew that they wouldn't let her question it - and, given how angry she made it when she threatened it's research, it was probably for the best. All she had to do was stand and watch....

Sitting across from the table was Adam Blackmore, adorned in standard NEST armor. It should be resistant to any electrical attacks by the superweapon. A telekinetic Agent in the other room popped the collar off, and Adam leaned into the table, neatly folding his hands on the table.

"Hello," Adam started off. "I am Adam Blackmore, and I will be conducting an interview with you today."

PR-1 sat there seemingly unresponsive, and did nothing in reaction the the collar being popped off. There was the sensation of consciousness slowly returning to him, but Adam's voice was little more than distant, blurry muttering to him. He felt a slight tingly warmth slowly filling up the cold cavity in his gut. His last memory was letting himself be entrapped in NEST's containment foam, and as they approached him with the collar... there was nothing after that.

He made a strange warbling metal sound as he muttered to himself, "makes perfect sense, really... shut off the powers and all my senses and processes go blank. Will take note of that in the future..."

Adam couldn't quite understand the mumbling. He perked up, and tried to listen, but ultimately, decided that wasn't relevant. "Can you tell me your name?" Adam asked.

"Hm?" Lihua mouthed the sound. "What did he say?"

"... Somethin' about how shutting down his powers does... ah, screw it, it turns his metal ass off." Leon said as he walked into the room. He faced Agent Vuhong, and threw a thumb behind him. "Sorry, taking a piss." Lihua only gave him a narrow look.

The moment Adam voice sung out, PR-1 felt its vibrations against his face as static began to run through his skin again, and his head jolted upward. "My name?"

PR-1 made a high pitched squeak sound that could be interpreted as him scoffing, but it was typically hard to tell. "Now that's hardly worth anything to you, isn't it? Surely you'd rather know more about the Hands of Science."

"Just a formality." Adam calmly noted. Something was definitely off about PR-1. Adam wasn't trying to go straight to the questions about the Hands just yet - rather not tip him off. "If you would rather we cut to the chase, then can you tell me about the organization - the Hands of Science - you work for?"

"You simply surprise me." PR-1 responded. "The simulations were much more straight to the point, but I suppose that is why the Fiend suppliers in Cuba would fall so easily."

Adam quietly grunted. Simulations...? He wondered what sort of preperations this thing went under before the Hands threw him at NEST.

"Lost for words?" PR-1 asked. "Allow me to clear the air for you: the assault on the Changeling's perpetrators was only my first assigned mission."

"And it will be your last. NEST won't let you cause anymore damage." Adam confidently noted, raising an eyebrow. "Now, who gave you this "assignment"?"

"The Hands of Science."

"... Who specifically in that organization? Dr. Cross?" Adam asked - hoping to get more information of the Hands of Science's leader.

First assigned mission...? Lihua thought on it for a second. He was implying something but she didn't know what. Personally, a part of her thinks that they should melt down PR-1 immediately after this interview - but she's suspended, so her guidance doesn't matter.

"Can we lock this thing back up, already?" Helena broke Lihua's reverie, as she was anxiously leaning up against the wall with her arms crossed. "This thing creeps me the fuck out."

"In due time, Helena." Lihua said.

""In due time" that thing will kick our ass." Helena scoffed at Lihua, earning a look of ire from the older woman. "... And it'll be on you."

"... Now you listen here-"

"Okay, okay, ladies." Leon stepped in between them, with his hands up. "Let's not tear up the whole building. Let's focus at the task at hand."

The two women crossed their arms, and faced away from each other.

"Hm... perhaps you were right. It would be easier for NEST to understand with context. If you would allow me - from the beginning?"

"Very well, you may proceed."

PR-1's chiding tone balanced out and sounded deeper as his voice grew serious. "PR-1 is my designation. I was born Peter Brooke. Agent...?"

"Blackmore." Adam nodded his head. Peter Brooke... He was certain the boys in the other room would be searching up everything they can find on that name. It could be a start.

"Doctor Peter Brooke." Peter said even louder, as if to address the people watching personally. As if to make it easier on them. He turned back to Adam. "Born in Maine."

Lihua's fingers went to her ear... in some attempt to press a button on a earpiece she didn't have. It was such a habit that she didn't notice. "Look up Peter Brooke immediately. Born in Maine."

Both Leon and Helena gave her a curious look.

"... You know you don't have an earpiece." Leon said, playfully laughing. "Suspended and everything. Hehe..."

Lihua angrily growled at him.

"Alright, alright..." Leon pressed on his own earpiece. "Grue, can you look up a dude named Peter Brooke, says he's a doctor and born in Maine if that helps ya' narrow it down?"

"I can hear him, Leon." Dana rolled her eyes before she just went to work. She immediately searched through every database possible, until she found what they were looking for. She brought up the smile and looked up the file on Peter Brooke. "Peter Brooke. He's a Maine-born doctor that is a veteran that was honorably discharged after losing his arm in the service. He's a Pharmacologist, and Medical Engineer. Really good at what he does."

"Alright, thanks, Grue." Leon turned to Lihua and repeated everything that Dana just said...

Adam nodded his head. "You're a veteran?" Adam was personally wondering how he managed to make the leap from a disabled Veteran to cutting down droves of NEST Agents.

"I came from a very poor family, you see." Peter explained. "So I was unable to directly enter the field of medicine, and I saw joining our nation's military as a viable option. I was deployed on Operation Desert Storm many years ago. Before ever entering the battleground, our truck hit a land mine. I lost my arm, and I was the only survivor of the wreckage."

Peter paused.

"That operation was twenty-five years ago, wasn't it? I was only twenty years old, then. Doesn't time just fly?"

"My God..." Lihua muttered to herself. It all made sense now. It's a Metahuman, just like her. All that casual scoffing that it was just an aberrant... it was all wrong. Lihua's breath rate sped up a little bit. She was finally getting confirmation that she needed.

"... Need some water?" Leon said, handing a small paper cup full of water to her.

"That is very unfortunate..." Adam adjusted his glasses. "And when did you... manisfest?" He asked.

Peter smiled. "We're getting there." He made a brief discharge of electricity, but there was something in the foam that blocked it from entering the air, or connecting him to the ground. For all intents and purposes, he was blinded and immobile. Only able to hear his questions, and see the faintest outline of Adam from the static in the air that emanated from his head.

"After that fateful incident, I decided I might as well go back to school, and use what I can from the veteran's compensation. Except that never came. My already poor family put themselves into poverty trying to help me through school, despite all my pleas and begging. After earning my doctorate, I made and researched the development of medicine until my studies had shifted my aim toward stem cell research. As a regenerative stem cell doctor, I worked within Rockefeller University and coordinated with Planned Parenthood and other medical organizations until I conducted my work independently."

Fascinating. All of this was fascinating. He, for a moment, wondered about all the medical breakthroughs he has made - However, he knew that the second he affiliated himself with the hands, he used that knowledge for all the wrong reasons. "... And where do the Hands come in?"

"After years of isolating myself from the world, focusing only on my work, I struck an impasse. A lack of funding and peer-review brought my research to a plateau. Even as a doctor, I had nearly bankrupted myself. My work is something... precious to me. It is unfathomable an idea to let anyone tamper with it. Too risky. Unable to proceed, I hit a pit of despair. The Hands of Science contacted me one evening... before I had finally decided to... how does it go? Eat a bullet?"

Adam uncomfortably cleared his throat. So, the Hands contacted him once he had no other options and gave him an option. It seems to be a common way organizations like this get fresh meat. Just recruit the people desperate enough to do the unthinkable.

"The choice I was given was easy." Peter mused. "I could proceed as I have been - a miserable one-armed wretch with no future. Or I could test their completed prototype serum - PR-1, or prototype one - which could either give back what I've lost, or kill me. I was fine with either result. As you can see, neither one of those happened."

A buzzing sounds similar to that of a sigh sounded from him. He tensed his body, and felt a little bit of give in the foam. He made no acknowledgement of it.

"So there was another option I had after I gained enough control of this... power--" Peter spat the word power as though it were a joke, "--they'd freely provide me with funding and resources if I agreed to continue as their test subject..."

This means that the Hands might have the capacity to create more Metahumans along the lines of Peter. The mere thought of a squad of them worried Adam. This just meant that they had to eliminate the Hands of Science before they could proceed any further in their research. Adam wondered how much information they'd actually be able to glean from Peter. He seems to be so dedicated to the Hands, and his research, that he'd be fully willing to die for them.

"...that alone did not get me to agree, however."

"Then what did...?" Adam asked.

"While, certainly, the proposition was tempting, I was too entranced by my depression and misery to give much care. My body was made of metal, and any chances of regeneration was permanently out of the question. The disability maddened me throughout my life and the serum had disillusioned me from my work. Neither was I happy with being a human experiment of two-bit mad scientists."

Peter's stiff upper lip curled into a smile.

"Society, in the end, is what did this to me. To keep the low down low while the high got higher. No circulation in the balance of wealth. It was what forced me to take drastic measures to make a living. It was what damned me when I came home crippled and deserving of compensation, but never got it. They offered it as a chance at revenge. I couldn't ignore the logic of the proposition. It was weighed in my favor."

"Revenge wouldn't solve anything." Adam noted. It was exactly what he thought, Peter had no choice. Give up his passion, or... give up. Adam wished that there was more that could have been done to help him - but, like he said, society. Though, they were getting off track. This information tells much about Peter... but little of anything relevant of the Hands of Science, and what NEST can do to take them down.

"We will do what we can to help you." Adam said.

"Oh, it's far too late for that." Peter mused. "My rage subsided in time. It's simply not in my nature to be angry or disdainful for very long - grudges exhaust me. I had found new purpose in my research. I may not directly benefit from it myself, no, but I could advance the medical field's progress for the sake of others like me. Those who had part of themselves taken away, people who had no choice. In the depths of their despair. I can guarantee you that there is no chance I would let anybody do anything to slow me down or get in the way."

Adam narrowed his eyes. He had a sinking feeling that Peter is warning them of REAPER breaking him out - just as Maximilian theorized would happen. Well, that isn't going to happen. "If your research is so important to you, then why did you launch an attack - alone - on several squads of powerful and heavily skilled Agents...?" He asked, skeptically.

Peter leaned his head forward, quiet for a couple moments.

"Because you can't hold me down."

On cue, there was a sudden amalgamation of several electrical streams beneath the surface of the containment foam. The overhead lights were flickering from the sudden interference. He concentrated the field between his body and available arm. The foam bulged and cracked, before the overwhelming force of the magnetic repulsion forced the foam to burst. The sudden release of the magnetic field spread across the whole room, and repelled the table they were seated at away from him, and knocked Adam backwards. The entire room lit up in his eyes, and he could even see the electrical wires within the walls.

'Don't these poor fools realize already? I can think a thousand times faster than they can. I've already accounted for hundreds of variables and counter-measures.'

"Now..." Peter muttered to himself. "Where is former director Miranda Caryl?"

Verthaven: Days of Rain ☔ [COMPLETED]

It's been feeling a little dead around this cavity in my chest.

Verthaven: Days of Rain ☔ [COMPLETED]

I bet @Mahz is a good and devoted Christian man with a strong monogamous commitment to his significant other.