Zombehs

Q - FLUX

Chris’ bike was many things, but quiet was not one of them. Not typically at the least. It was why, even beneath the ground floor, the dull rumble of its engine was just barely audible as he pulled up next to Cafe Thaza. It took a few moments for the chime to sound when he actually entered the building, and it wasn’t long until heavy footsteps made their ways down the stairs. Nudging open the doors to the room, he held a bag of what looked like groceries in one hand as he approached the gathered group.

His head moved slightly, just enough to notice he was looking at each individual present. “Huh, guess I missed something,” he remarked as he then glanced down at the drying splotches of blood at the floor. Remark aside, he peered over Ma’s shoulder and hummed as he read the message. “Nice, nice.” A wide grin adorned his expression at the prospect of Nightmare work since it’d been some time since he last dealt with the beasties. Placing the bag atop a counter after he said that, he adjusted his shades and took a seat on a stool before he spun around to look at everyone again.

“So! Anyone figure anything out yet? Hash out any plans?” He spread his arms outwards, gesturing towards everyone that had gathered, as he spoke in a boisterous tone.

Q - FLUX

Oh right, relationships and stuff.

End: Well, it's nice to know someone else is also here just because they get a kick out of it. Seems pretty similar to Arsenal in terms of personality though. One's a miser and the other's a hoarder.
Voice:
Advent: Eh... could do without the Nightmare-lites she stitches together, but she doesn't seem like too bad of a person. He's pulped a few of her creations by "accident" when they've gotten too close in the middle of a fight.
Warthog: A stuffy fellow who reminds Chris of why he didn't join up with the Policus, but otherwise he doesn't have any issue with the veteran. An all around decent fellow he supposes.
Zer0: Pip-squeak shouldn't be on the field. Maybe if she got some actual armor and a weapon that didn't have a retarded design concept, but it's just a matter of time before she gets hurt. And drags some of the others down when they try and protect her.
Runner: Oh, another reason why not joining the Policus was the right choice. His taste in cigs is shit, but otherwise it's a pretty professional relationship?
Hex: Well, at least she uses an actual combat suit. Still... the fact that she relies on a relic to generate a PRF is a bit of recklessness that even Chris thinks is too far. She's got a pair to focus on melee ranges though, even if she's got a buddy to help her out there.
Arsenal: Another interesting person to work with. Between opening portals to let him get readings from a distance without blanking out, or acting as fire control for her in tandem with Zer0. Wishes her personality wasn't as nasty as it was, but isn't otherwise too off-put by it.
Diva: Working with her on operations is rather interesting. It's still a bit touch and go, but he can amplify the volume of her music and songs. It doesn't really seem to boost her magic's effectiveness, but it's good fun on occasion when he doesn't need to sonar things.
Blitz: Not really someone he interacts with. Blitz makes it pretty clear he likes to keep to himself, so Chris doesn't see the point in pushing his presence onto the other Cleaner.

Edged Horizon

@eRode So magically powered armor is useless and gunpowder doesn't exist?

@Marshall

Basically. Against your generic rank and file soldiers without access to Talentium, power armor might be effective, but Talentium users can go against Gods of War (literally massive mechas) and come out on top. A suit of power armor isn't going to survive that.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Gregory Irving

---

---

A half-eaten sandwich stopped half-way to Gregory’s mouth as the door’s opened and a pair of guards beelined towards him. Grunting as one of them motioned for him to get up with the firearm, he rolled off the seat and swiped his phone from a nearby table. Even that little detour was enough for the guard to take aim and an exasperated sigh ripped free as he hurried out of the room in compliance, lest he got a crack to the skull.

The dilapidated city was a depressing sight as far as things went. Even without the guards to hurry them along, Gregory marched at a rather brisk pace. There didn’t seem to be anything, but unhappiness in these streets and he didn’t really want to linger about. Hesitating briefly when someone jumped in their path, he flinched as sharp crack of gunfire nearly deafened him.

Freezing as the red began to pool and the spark of life faded from the teenager’s eyes, he flinched as a wail of pain and grief assaulted his ears. This was what he was going to use this place for? With such thoughts chasing him, he didn’t need either of their escorts to prod him back into moving as he hurried to escape the scene.

It was a few minutes until their destination came into sight, and he tilted his head as he looked back at the guards. If they were bothered by the size of the next “game’s” map, then they didn’t give any sign as they motioned for him and Sophia to enter. As they were led through the house though, Gregory made sure to try and take in as many details as he could. If his hiding space was this limited, then he needed to make the best of things.

Grunting as he was pushed into the bathroom, he flipped the guard off with a scowl as the door was closed on him. “Seriously…” They were at the furthest point from where the teams would start, probably, so he could just camp it out in here. If things went well, they’d run into each other first, fight it out, and the healers wouldn’t even be touched.

The chances of that actually happening though? With a sigh, he shook his head and decided to try and make things a bit more difficult for the two teams. There wasn’t really anything he could do with how many windows the building sported, but he could block off the more obvious routes into the house. Maybe funnel the two teams together and hopefully they’d duke it out among themselves. Rolling his neck, he left the bathroom to get to work.

They were probably fetching the two teams now, so that meant he probably had 10 or so minutes to go about his business. Taking the stairs down a few at a time, he hit the ground floor in a crouch and glanced around quickly. “So many damn windows,” he muttered to himself as he hurried over towards the front door. Hefting the couch upwards so it leaned against the door took a few moments, as did moving the two seats to help support it. Given the pair of windows right next to the front door, he didn’t bother to spend more effort than that.

Blocking off the back door was a simple enough affair of dragging the dining room table and propping it in such a manner that it jammed against the walls, allowing the door to only swing open about halfway. The chairs managed to plug in the gap and block off the back door completely. He stared at the heavy fridge for a few moments before giving up on the idea. He could probably drag it into position, but the effort wasn’t worth it. Looking around the floor once again, he smirked as an idea came to mind. Moving quickly, he turned on every faucet and shower he could find before he clogged up the drains. Watching as the water began to pool and flood onto the floor, he nodded to himself and hoped there was enough time to get the floor wet.

There weren’t too many appliances he could find, but a few sharp tugs managed to break apart the cords. Peeling away the insulation from the breaks, he carefully spread apart the exposed wires before finding a relatively hidden port to plug them into. Only to blink a few times as nothing seemed to happen. Staring at the exposed wires, he frowned a bit, but didn’t dare check if they were actually live. Whatever, they might decide to work at some point, so he left them plugged in.

“Fuck,” he muttered moments later as he watched the sigil circle around the toilet. With a grunt, he dragged his hand across the floor from outside the bathroom, he finished the line with a flourish. Flinching as glass, ceramic and tiles shattered, he raised an arm to shield his eyes from the dust and water that rushed out of the trashed room. Sure enough though, the destroyed piping was spraying water and flooding the area at a far faster pace now.

Booking it back up to the second floor, he sighed and took a few moments to catch his breath. Looking around, the most obvious place to start was dragging the couch and seats to block off the door that led to the terrace outside. There wasn’t much else to do here, but electronics were plenty and there were two bathrooms to work with here. Two more trashed bathrooms, a few plugged in and damaged cores, and some toppled over dressers just to make searching them slightly more annoying, and Gregory hurried back up onto the third floor.

Huffing a bit, he felt surprisingly alright with the recent turns of events. Turns out trashing a place was surprisingly cathartic. The double doors that led to the open terrace was sort of annoying though. He didn’t want to try his luck at bringing the roof down at blocking it, and there wasn’t really anything else to work with. With a shake of his head, he ignored that as an unsolvable problem for the moment and busied himself with dealing with the stairs. Nuding the couch over towards the glass railings, he tipped it onto its end before letting his power run through it.

Pushing it over the edge, the couch continued to hover mid-air even as Gregory grimaced. Running a hand down along the wall next to him, he felt a few beads of sweat run down his face even as he managed to touch the floor. With a sharp gasp, he snapped his hand away and winced at the rush of air that hit him as the couch accelerated from 0 to 100. There was a heavy thud and crash as stairs simply gave way, splintering and shattering into pieces. Peering over the edge, it looked like the couch had managed to destroy both flights of stairs that led up from the ground to the first and the first to the second.

Well, he had three more chairs to use as ammo, so with a heavy sigh he got to work. The first one cracked through the stairs heading down onto the first floor before embedding itself into the drywall. The second, with the path cleared, managed to crack through the stairs beneath. And the third nailed what little remained of the flight of stairs up from the ground floor. Resisting the urge to fall backwards, Gregory instead grabbed one of the lamps and made his way back into the bedroom. There, he collapsed onto the bed with a heavy sigh even as he kicked off the lamp’s base, and bashed off the light fixture to leave him with a metal pole.

Edged Horizon

ALLAHU~

Q - FLUX

Rocking it, don't hate.

Name: Chris Safenos
Codename: Echo
Color Scheme: fff200 & 00aeef
Age: 24
Gender: Male

Personality: Tenacious, unyielding, and principled. Although he’s also boisterous, competitive, and flashy.

His shades are a near constant, and even when broken he seems to pull another pair out from… somewhere. Oddly enough, he smokes less when stressed and often goes cold turkey during any jobs he takes. Silence is almost intolerable to him, though even the faintest of sounds is enough to help settle him down.

Short Biography: Considering his abilities, it isn’t too surprising that Chris didn’t have much of a problem when it came to finding work. Policus was too rigid though. Painstakers didn’t pay any bills, even if they were an interesting lot. The Magus was even worse than Policus. And so on.

The Cleaners though. He worked with them a few times before. First for the pay and experience, and then more for the latter. The Nightmares, awful as they are, made for good enemies. He didn’t have to hold back and got to cut loose when they had to be dealt with. Apparently he made a decent enough impression that they found him after he was done with the Thremonts.

Done with an eight year stint at one of their Academies in Neo Babylon that is. A lot of the time there was spent learning how the systems he wanted to duplicate with his magic actually worked and then applying that knowledge to help in actualizing his magic. If the Cleaners ever fell through, he’s confident he could probably find a spot within Heavyware. He did a brief stint with their R&D department a few years back through a program with the school, and it was an enjoyable experience for all that he learned it wasn’t something he wanted to do for year after year.

Even earlier on, his experimentations with magic were fueled by the sights of news reports. A child didn’t necessarily comprehend the damages and danger as fights bled out into public spaces and winded up on the news. He just saw the lightning and flames that washed over the nightmare, or someone who batted aside chunks of concrete several time larger than themselves. The cool things. And naturally he was inspired.

Magic Style: Calling Chris a human sensor array is a fairly accurate summation. While well learned through the Thremont institutes, he nonetheless relies heavily on Brute methodology to manipulate the levels of energy he harnesses. His mind is just as sharp as any Painstakers though, and it must be in order to process all the information he receives.

At its most basic, Chris is capable of generating radio and light waves as well as sound pulses. Naturally he’s also able to receive any sort of bounceback, thus mimicking the function of radar, lidar, and sonar respectively. While his range can be rather large, extending his awareness past 100 yards or so increases the attention he has to devote to being distractive. To actually duplicate the effects of a sensor system and map out his surroundings at range, Chris generally cuts off all other awareness of his surroundings.

In terms of offense, he can focus and amplify the radio waves and sound pulses he releases into deadly weapon. Enough radio waves can flash fry biologicals, while a powerful enough sound wave can stagger and nauseate. As a side effect of drawing energy from his surroundings, the temperature tends to drop rather dramatically around him. Those without protection can find themselves exposed to frostbite and shock as their body temperature free falls.

Membership: Just in over a year now.

Equipment
Prototype-003 “Jötunn”: The latest model of Chris’ ever developing exoskeletal armor suit, the Jötunn is designed with protection first in mind. While its bulky nature does limit his overall mobility, the suit can surge to increase maneuverability and speed in short bursts. The numerous layers of material are sufficient to withstand sustained small arms fire without any issue, while several gel layers serve to dissipate forces or harden to help withstand trauma.

More importantly though, the numerous layers serve to insulate Chris from external hazards. It was designed to function in the face of the sharp changes in temperatures his powers can cause, and protects him in environments ranging from below -100°C to brief exposures of over 1000°C.

Heavyware Sicarus (Modded): A rather ornate handgun that Chris refers to as 3-G, the base model is a reliable sidearm that fires a tight burst of three rounds. His version proves to be tougher, allowing more powerful rounds to be used, and holds 24 rounds a magazine as opposed to the standard 18.

Relationships: ????
Character Impressions: ????

Theme Song: Fun Fightan’ & Nightmare Extermination

Q - FLUX

Beep boop.

Q - FLUX

Rocking it, don't hate.

Name: Chris Safenos
Codename: Echo
Color Scheme: fff200 & 00aeef
Age: 24
Gender: Male

Personality: Tenacious, unyielding, and principled. Although he’s also boisterous, competitive, and flashy.

His shades are a near constant, and even when broken he seems to pull another pair out from… somewhere. Oddly enough, he smokes less when stressed and often goes cold turkey during any jobs he takes. Silence is almost intolerable to him, though even the faintest of sounds is enough to help settle him down.

Short Biography: Considering his abilities, it isn’t too surprising that Chris didn’t have much of a problem when it came to finding work. Policus was too rigid though. Painstakers didn’t pay any bills, even if they were an interesting lot. The Magus was even worse than Policus. And so on.

The Cleaners though. He worked with them a few times before. First for the pay and experience, and then more for the latter. The Nightmares, awful as they are, made for good enemies. He didn’t have to hold back and got to cut loose when they had to be dealt with. Apparently he made a decent enough impression that they found him after he was done with the Thremonts.

Done with an eight year stint at one of their Academies in Neo Babylon that is. A lot of the time there was spent learning how the systems he wanted to duplicate with his magic actually worked and then applying that knowledge to help in actualizing his magic. If the Cleaners ever fell through, he’s confident he could probably find a spot within Heavyware. He did a brief stint with their R&D department a few years back through a program with the school, and it was an enjoyable experience for all that he learned it wasn’t something he wanted to do for year after year.

Even earlier on, his experimentations with magic were fueled by the sights of news reports. A child didn’t necessarily comprehend the damages and danger as fights bled out into public spaces and winded up on the news. He just saw the lightning and flames that washed over the nightmare, or someone who batted aside chunks of concrete several time larger than themselves. The cool things. And naturally he was inspired.

Magic Style: Calling Chris a human sensor array is a fairly accurate summation. While well learned through the Thremont institutes, he nonetheless relies heavily on Brute methodology to manipulate the levels of energy he harnesses. His mind is just as sharp as any Painstakers though, and it must be in order to process all the information he receives.

At its most basic, Chris is capable of generating radio and light waves as well as sound pulses. Naturally he’s also able to receive any sort of bounceback, thus mimicking the function of radar, lidar, and sonar respectively. While his range can be rather large, extending his awareness past 100 yards or so increases the attention he has to devote to being distractive. To actually duplicate the effects of a sensor system and map out his surroundings at range, Chris generally cuts off all other awareness of his surroundings.

In terms of offense, he can focus and amplify the radio waves and sound pulses he releases into deadly weapon. Enough radio waves can flash fry biologicals, while a powerful enough sound wave can stagger and nauseate. As a side effect of drawing energy from his surroundings, the temperature tends to drop rather dramatically around him. Those without protection can find themselves exposed to frostbite and shock as their body temperature free falls.

Membership: Just in over a year now.

Equipment
Prototype-003 “Jötunn”: The latest model of Chris’ ever developing exoskeletal armor suit, the Jötunn is designed with protection first in mind. While its bulky nature does limit his overall mobility, the suit can surge to increase maneuverability and speed in short bursts. The numerous layers of material are sufficient to withstand sustained small arms fire without any issue, while several gel layers serve to dissipate forces or harden to help withstand trauma.

More importantly though, the numerous layers serve to insulate Chris from external hazards. It was designed to function in the face of the sharp changes in temperatures his powers can cause, and protects him in environments ranging from below -100°C to brief exposures of over 1000°C.

Heavyware Sicarus (Modded): A rather ornate handgun that Chris refers to as 3-G, the base model is a reliable sidearm that fires a tight burst of three rounds. His version proves to be tougher, allowing more powerful rounds to be used, and holds 24 rounds a magazine as opposed to the standard 18.

Relationships: ????
Character Impressions: ????

Theme Song: Fun Fightan’ & Nightmare Extermination

Q - FLUX

You suck dick.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Gregory Irving

---

---

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but USARILN had its way to sour even a pleasant morning jog. There was a nippy autumn breeze that warred with the warmth of a decent pace, and it kept him rather comfortable as he lost himself in the run. That was until a faint series of beeps caught his attention. “Return to Building B.” Short and clipped, the cuff continued to beep as Gregory stared down at it for a few moments. “Well, fuck,” he muttered rather appropriately as he swore the beeping’s pace increased at the lack of any compliant movements from him. The prospect of a shock was more than enough for him to hurry back to the dormitory at a quicker pace than he originally intended to.

Initially the escorts hadn’t warranted much thought, but the reactions they got eventually made Gregory think otherwise. If this were really that common then why all the curious looks? That aside, the classroom they were all herded into was, if nothing else, sizable he supposed. Picking out one of the seats off to the side and by the windows, he quickly slid himself in and tuned out the surrounding world. With middling success since it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two before a familiar voice called out his name and his head rose slowly to look around.

“Oh, hi Rosa.” He raised a hand towards the woman, past the guard, before he looked down to examine the packages dropped off by the guard. He left the projectiles alone aside from a quick one-over, but actually took the Fender out to get a feel for it. It felt nice in his hands, and he figured it ought to for the price tag; it was probably, what, two or three times the price of his own bass? Looking up when Rosa held something out for him to take, his eyebrows climbed a bit before he took the picks with a sigh. “Thanks. I think…”

Once the bass was stored away, he paid the staff a bit more attention as they went through with their spiel. Nothing particularly fascinating, at least not until the afternoon to see what the hell combat training was all about. The classes passed by quickly enough, and he paid the modicum of attention that the teachers’ efforts seemed to warrant. Not nearly enough to keep his thoughts from wandering though, and he resorted to his smartphone more than a few times in the few hours before lunch.

When they were finally dismissed to get some food, Greg’s first destination was the dormitory. As fun as lugging around more than a dozen kilograms of gifts was, it’s not like any of the three were particularly easy to carry around. As mentioned his room had been packed with a few other pieces and there was a slip of paper that noted which bike was his and what the lock combination was. It was hard not to feel a bit mollified by the “gifts” given, and he collapsed back into his bed with a heavy sigh.

Still… with less than an hour for lunch and a fair chunk of it already gone, he hurried back onto his feet and figured it might as well be a good time to put the bike to use. A few minutes saved here and there could add up after all.