Order And Chaos: A Superpower RP (Started, Closed)

[socialtangent]

After a few more tries at the range, Kurt had decided to retreat to his apartment to take a shower and relax for the rest of today. He made it to the elevator when his Seraphim-issued phone rang. Quickly fishing the device out of his pocket, he held it up to his ear. It was a message from Christopher Adelbert, head of Seraphim and Kurt's new boss.

"I've got a mission for you three, Arlana, Spectre and Waldemar. West of the city in the Bronx there's a man causing trouble in one of the clinics..."

Kurt frowned as he returned the phone to his pocket. Couldn't it have waited until after he got the new gear? It wouldn't hurt to know who exactly he was teamed up with either. In any case, a mission was a mission. If he managed to work for six years with his current getup, he could use it for just a little longer. With no time to spare, he entered the elevator and headed up. When the doors opened, he sprinted down the hallway, entered his apartment, and suited up.

First was the grey t-shirt. Next was the kevlar vest. It was battered and worn from years of use, but it never let him down before. Then was the black leather jacket, which was somewhat of a trademark. Finally, the tactical gloves and plain black neoprene face mask. By his own admission, he looked more ready to play paintball than fight crime, but his current gear was all he could afford on a vigilante's salary.

With his gear on, Kurt ran back to the elevator and headed down to the floor level. He raced past office workers, who didn't seem to be bothered too much by someone nearly bumping into them. Given who they worked for, it probably wasn't all that uncommon. He headed out the front door, where he saw what he was sure was the car. A Seraphim employee and a man dressed in military fatigues stood by the vehicle. Presumably, they were the driver and Waldemar.

"I guess this is the ride?" he asked as he approached them.

 

[Baldrek]

Waldemar had just enough time to wonder about who this 'Specter' he was going to be working with was before who he guessed was the man in question also arrived at the scene.

"I guess this is the ride?" A man clad in what looked like well used paintball gear asked him, not exactly inspiring confidence by the way he looked. However, even though he might be new to Seraphim Waldemar had already ingrained one thing into his mind, that almost everyone else that worked for Seraphim was a meta human as well, so looks could be very, very deceiving.

"That it is." Waldemar replied as he opened one of the doors and got inside the vehicle, holding his rifle firmly in his right hand all the while, he really didn't need to 'reset' his mastery over the weapon now, as he didn't know how long it would take them to arrive where the villain was at. "I'm Waldemar, by the way. But Abel or doctor or any variation between them is fine by me, just be consistent." He told Specter before closing the door shut and waiting for him to get into the car so that they could get going.

Once Specter had entered the car as well he figured that he might as well ask him what kind of abilities he had, knowing your team and all that. "So what kind of powers are you bringing with you, Specter?"

 

[Spoon498]

Atticus stared down at the smoking barrel aimed at the freshly shattered bottle of whiskey. Feeling a sudden pang of sadness and a dryness in his throat as he watched his best friends blood of the last few years pool up and slowly drain through the cracks between the shoddily constructed table. A depressing rain of alcohol dribbled to the floor. Soaking up in dirt and wood till there was nothing left.

He smelled the fresh scent of gunpowder in the air and found that it disgusted him and made him sick to his stomach. He slowly set the revolver down on the table and sighed to himself. Atticus took a moment before he looked back over the empty revolver, the shattered bottle, then the folder from Seraphim.

"Well that simplifies things doesn't it?" He said dryly to himself.

Atticus managed to glance over to the dark corner of the room. There it was... propped against the wall, a monster of flame and masochism contained inside a modest and uninteresting violin case. Even the dust seemed to have to good sense to stay away from it, looking as untouched now as the moment he set it down. His head hurt to look at it and he found himself quickly averting his gaze.

"I can do this" he tried to reaffirm himself unaware his hand was shaking.

With that he grabbed a pen and paper and began writing a note. The note was for Kelsey. A woman he had met in Vegas. The only gamble Atticus made in Vegas was on her, and he had been lucky he made the right call. Atticus was looking for someone to hire to run him supplies to support his life of solitude. It never really occurred to Atticus that Las Vegas of all places might not be the best place to look for a responsible and trustworthy person however Atticus never had much of a reason to mistrust people in general.

When he met Kelsey she immediately struck him as a kind hearted and hard working woman. He was right. He'd come to look forward to her bi-monthly visits. It was a nice to have a conversation with someone every once and a while. Over the course of the last few years he'd gotten to hear her story. She was a stripper by night on the weekends and worked the black jack tables at a casino during the week, supported her eight year old son by herself, and had lived a generally tough life. Yet somehow maintained a cheery disposition. Atticus admired her relentlessness. She fought for her son and didn't let the world or her situation break her. Frankly she inspired him.

He finished over the last bit of note and reread it
I hope this helps you catch your dreams. You've been a good friend. Thank You. Your Friend, Atticus He was never any good with goodbyes.

And with that he opened the old rusted safe under his bed and took out it's meager contents within. Taking out what he needed to get by and leaving the rest of his savings on the table for Kelsey. Roughly 40,000 dollars in cash.

He hesitated when he reached for the case, taking one last moment to consider what he was about to do. It only took him a few moments before he grabbed the case by the strap he made for it special, and threw it over his back on top of his camelback. He walked outside into the crisp coolness of the night and took the tarp off of the mountain bike he'd been using to explore the nearby area.

If I keep a good pace I'll make it to Interstate 15 by morning

Atticus watched an elf owl he'd spotted in the night flying gracefully in the night air as it flew between himself and the moon, perfectly profiling itself. He wondered how amazing it must feel to be that free. Suddenly the weight of the case on his back seemed to pull him out of his day dream and drag his spirits back down to where he was accustomed to.

With that Atticus sped off into the night, nothing left behind him except the quickly settling dust flung up from his bike.

 

[Terratina.]

Morph strolled the streets of New York, still in the shape of his creator. As time went by and human emotions rose up from the depths of cold instinct, it could not help but feel a fondness for this form. It was a sort of macabre memorial its creator, not to mention discreet and with the retinas and fingers required to pass BioCorp?s biometric scanners. He may have been from the corporation?s service, but BioCorp saw it as just a leave of absence, Felix was too valuable an asset just to be simply discarded. Regardless of that little matter, Morph could easily sneak into the building by moulding itself in a form that could flow through the air vents, a weakness in security shared by many other buildings. Nevertheless, the laboratories beneath the skyscraper were another matter entirely; tightly climate-controlled with a sophisticated closed circuit air conditioning system. The little pipes criss-crossing the walls of the labs had no exit or entrance point, as the air was provided, at great expensive via giant gas cylinders for the perfect sterile conditions. But then again Morph wondered even why it was drawn to BioCorp so much, wondering if it was some assimilated fancy of its creator or that the corporation had tucked away in those private labs creatures like it. Creatures created from the stolen scraps of research the BioCorp could get their hands on; creatures with certain assets Morph could make its own...

As it continued to walk through the crowded streets, a vague sense of direction guiding it to the BioCorp building, Morph came across a bank with a line of people waiting to use the ATM built into its walls. This caused a thought to emerge in Morph?s mind, one about humans. It went a bit like this: the mugger and his victim Morph had recently devoured were part of a giant food chain, though the resource they were competing over wasn?t food, it was money. There was one giant pyramid with the CEOs at the top, the ordinary citizen like the woman in the middle and street trash like the mugger on the bottom. Morph realised that in order to compete with its opposition, it needed this resource, this money and made future plans to track down a bank clerk or whoever had access to the vaults, track them down, devour them, and use their appearance to make a withdrawal. This wouldn?t be robbery, this would be a curious case of embezzlement where the employee would disappear without a trace soon after. Morph felt a twinge of satisfaction with the plan, but that was for another time. Still, it thought some more on the plan, with a successful result, Morph could afford to purchase some shelter. With all the night it had spent resting in the open, no amount of shapeshifting could remove the buildup of dirt on its being and frankly people regarded him with a wide berth, like Morph was just another wandering bum. Not the ideal appearance for a shapeshifting terror.

It turned when it reached the end of the block, the daily commotion of New York in plain sight. Gridlock, drivers filled with road rage, pedestrians clinging to the pavements lest the rush hour traffic run them down on the roads. Through all this, Morph just walked on by, cursing its lack of transportation other than its own two foot. Maybe after the bank raid it would also purchase a car. The temptation of reverting back to its original form to carry itself with swiftness on its tendrils through the street, consuming all that would block its path was getting to Morph; so was the hunger for more and more flesh. Knowing two measly humans wouldn?t satisfy it this time, Morph gave into that temptation. Being killed by Seraphim?s goons were one thing, dying of starvation was another. Besides, this would be an isolated incident, a terror of tendrils from nowhere devours an entire streets worth of people only to disappear and never be seen again. Morph walked on, onto the street, the form of Felix Youngblood dissolving into a creator from the realm of nightmares. Some didn?t see it coming, other did and made a run for their lives. No matter, Morph globbed them up all the same. As the mass of flesh ripped through the street, tendrils grabbed any person with the silly belief that they would survive. Its mouth processed these people like a meat grinder with circular rows of teeth spinning back and forth independently, only stopping to crush and chew.

The only remains of those people was the blood splattered on the pavement and even on the buildings. Empty husks of cars and taxis filled the street. The only eyewitnesses left were those in the safety of the buildings that lined the street, looking in horror through bloodstained windows at this dreadful occurrence. Morph quickly disappeared through a drain on the pavement, quickly making its way away from the scene of the crime to safe place for its bulging body to finish digesting its feast...

 

[socialtangent]

"So what kind of powers are you bringing with you, Specter?"

"Well, it'd take a little while to explain in detail, so think of ghosts. I can mimic some of their properties by channeling energy from the place they call home. Levitation, cloaking, ectoplasm and whatnot. Then there's purple energy beams. Not sure how that fits in with the 'ghost' package, but I can shoot 'em. Oh, and you can call me Kurt. When we're not out in public, at least."

Kurt regarded his counterpart. There had to be more to Waldemar than just being a military man, unless he was really, really good at what he did. Or perhaps he just liked dressing as one. "So I figure I might as well ask the same question. What is it that you do, Waldemar?"

 

[Baldrek]

Waldemar nodded at Kurt's explanation as the car set of towards their destination, speeding through the streets of New York on it's way to the Bronx, passing high-rises and glass clad skyscrapers on its way. 'So he can no doubt handle himself then... Probably better than me anyway.' He thought as he straightened out one of the creases around the edge of the balaclava, he found it slightly uncomfortable, but it would be better than his true identity being broadcast everywhere he figured, then who could say if he'd be safe out on the streets again?

"So I figure I might as well ask the same question. What is it that you do, Waldemar?"

"Me? Well, more mundanely I'm a doctor, an anesthesiologist if you want to get technical, emergency medicine and the like. When it comes to powers... I guess I've got better reflexes than a human, barely, and my sight and hearing are better as well." Waldemar began explaining as he looked over the weapon he was holding, knowledge about it and its use slowly seeping into his mind and his grip shifting slightly like he was subconsciously getting used to the way it felt in his hand. "But my most useful offensive power is my ability to master a weapon through contact, which is why I'm holding on to this rifle right now, it's... How should I put it... Being in contact with it makes me understand how to use it and how it is best utilized, if that makes any sense. It... Can be useful, but it does take a while to set in, about 30 minutes or so by my estimates."

As Waldemar finished talking he looked out the window of their vehicle as it continued on its way, he hoped it wouldn't just drop them off in the thick of it, since he didn't have any proper defensive powers he doubted he'd last long in such a situation. Better that they be dropped off a little ways off so that they could approach at their leisure and get an advantage, and he kinda guessed that was the plan too, sounded reasonable to assume it anyway.

 

[Spoon498]

Atticus was in the dark, playing the violin as he had many times before. Dancing in the darkness slowly. Weaving a song through the air with hand and bow, threading the notes into a sorrowful song that blackened the soul and saddened the heart.

Suddenly the tempo changed... everything quickened. The notes became angry, enraged, filled with fury! His whole body tensed up, he pressed the bow hard against the strings, with all his might, but still managed to play with an uncompromising dexterity. Suddenly his arms ignited. Consumed in flames as he continued to play as if possessed. A lighthouse of madness dancing through the endless pitch black nothingness.

The melody continued to play as the rest of Atticus ignited and he fell to his hands and knees wracked with pain. The violin continued to float as if some mysterious force still held it and
was circling around him like a predator. Atticus looked at his hands as the flesh melted off them and screamed an agonizing scream that would make the dead shudder. The vomit inducing stench filling the air as he watched the tips of his fingers peel away to the bone.

Terror filled Atticus tore at his face tearing off chunks of flaming flesh and letting them slosh to the ground, like beads of flaming wax splashing off a candle they bubbled and popped until nothing remained. He felt his eyes melt and suddenly pop, the vitrius fluid running down what was left of his cheeks in what looked like some twisted form of tears, leaving nothing but hollowed out sockets. Somehow, though his nerves should of burn off long ago he felt everything and screamed out into the darkness as his very soul burned within him

BURN!

Atticus bolted up from the back seat of his rental car panting deeply as if he'd just run a marathon. He slowly looked over his body and noticed he was drenched in sweat. Still breathing heavily he reached back and unrolled the window letting to cool breeze into the car to comfort him. He took a moment to think, the vivid dream still seared into his mind.

Atticus got out of the car grabbing the strap on the violin case as he exited, taking it with him. He made his way down to a nearby slowly flowing shallow river off the road. Sitting the case down behind him he made his way onto a large smooth rock that protruded into the river. It was a peaceful scene. The moon was full and the light it gave off was magical as it glistened over the water and reflected the whole tree line. Enjoying the scene for a moment he quickly leaned down and splashed his face with water, refreshing himself taking a deep breath as he came back up.

AAAaaatTTTttiCusssSSSSS

He froze. Completely paralyzed with fear as he heard the voice that sounded like the wind itself speak against his ear in the softest of whispers. His hackles rised as he felt it's breathe wash down the back of his neck. It sounded vaguely like Anna and it made his skin crawl. He smelled the burnt flesh and could feel it coming around on him. Seeing it in his perihelia vision. Something that looked a feminine charred corpse.

Suddenly Atticus turned to meet it and found nothing was there. As His vision focused he found himself staring directly at... It... By some means the violin was now outside of it's case reflecting the moonlight off its perfectly polished black and white finish. He gulped slowly feeling that familiar dryness in his throat suddenly return. His hand began to shake steadily.

BURN

It was much louder this time.

"I've waited to long this time" he said slowly to himself. "I don't have much time."

Atticus quickly returned to his car and sped off. Swerving as he took off. He wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night anyways.

 

[Pm0n3y]

Justin found some solace and a sense of gaping awe in the room he was introduced to. So much awe in fact, that he managed to close the door in the face of the employee that introduced him to the living quarters. The modern look of the place was accentuated by the long window that took up a majority of the main area's (the living room, Justin assumed) southern wall, a window that looked out into the city, and offered front row seats to the Manhattan skyline as the setting sun accentuated against adjacent buildings.

"Holy geez, I feel like a fucking bachelor!" He exclaimed, too giddy for his own good. He managed to dance his way towards the center of the establishment, seating himself on the couch placed there. There was a TV and coffee table ahead of the couch, with a few items adorning the table. Justin reached for the one that resembled a modern day smartphone. He couldn't help but grin as he turned it on. Justin's always showed an affinity for technology, and this time was no different.

He pulled out his cellphone from an opposite pocket, and made bit of comparison between the two. His eyes then perked in surprise as he saw the time on both phones. He hopped to his feet.

"Shit, I don't want to be late for class." He said, grabbing his backpack. He took a look towards the duffel bag, contemplating on taking it with him. "...S'not like i'll need it in class...I'll come back for it." He departed, phones in hand. He beeped in directions to the institute. To his surprise, the location was much closer to Seraphim Tower than it was to his own home. The benefits of this organization was beginning to become staggering.

"Oh, i'll be back. For sure." He said with a smirk as he began towards his destination.

 

[socialtangent]

So that explained why Waldemar was clinging to that rifle. "Well, I hope you've been holding onto that for at least a little while," Kurt said. "We could use the fire support."

It was a few more minutes until the car came to a stop along the curb. "The clinic is just down the street," the driver told them. Kurt looked out the window and spotted their destination. The clinic was a relatively small shop that blended inconspicuously into the neighboring buildings along the avenue. No police presence and no outward sign of any activity. That was discouraging.

"The police probably don't know what's going down yet," Kurt muttered as he thought of a battle plan. If there was anyone still inside, then they were probably dealing with a robbery, or even worse, a hostage situation. There was no way to tell what it looked like in there, so if they barged in, they'd be going in blind. And if they went in blind, innocents could be harmed. Unless...

"Alright, we're gonna need that fire support, Waldemar. If you can take up a position across the street to cover me, I can infiltrate the clinic and try to figure out what's going on in there. Sound good?"

 

[Captainguy42]

"What's taking so long!" Red screamed, as he fired another shot into the ceiling. Behind the desk, the receptionist flinched again, and looked nervously down the hall, " I- I- I-," She repeated to herself, to nervous to actually finish her sentence. She didn't have to, as the desk assistant Mark came back with a small box which he put on the counter. Red Coyote stormed up to the desk and pointed at it with his gun at the box. " What is this?" He demanded.

" It's all the medicine we have left," Said Mark, who trying desperately not to look nervous or break out into a cold sweat.

"You are a clinic, hundreds of people come here everyday, and you are trying to tell me that! is all you have?" Coyote's voice dropped into a low monotone, "Sir, do you want to die today?"

Mark jumped, he started looking for a way out but it was too late, Coyote already had his gun trained on Mark's chest. " I know, normally we have a lot more but I don't know why, today we're almost out, I went in the back, that's all we have! Please believe me I don't want to die." He whimpered as a sheen of moisture began appearing on his fore-head. Coyote played the sound of a growling wolf out of the SPD's speakers, a bit of theatrics to get his displeasure across. "Alright," He said, " I'm feeling merciful today, and frankly who needs that much medication, the only reason someone would steal that much is to be a complete jerk. So here's what we're gonna do instead," Lowing his gun, he motioned Mark to walk over to the other side of the desk.

" You are going to pick up the box, and walk out that door with me, do anything odd, and I'll shoot you." Coyote said, letting the violent edge disappear from his voice. " Odd being anything that isn't what the man in the Coyote head tells you to do." Slowly but surely Mark picked up the medicine, and walked out the door, with Red Coyote just two steps behind him.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Inside the medicine storage locker Ryan was trying to figure out how he was going to get fifty thousand dollars worth of STD medication out of New York and back an abandoned textile factory in New Jersey. While his hologram kept everyone's attention out front he snuck in the back entrance, then with the use of some more holograms, made it seems like the clinics medicine supplies were bare so that he could have time to plan his next move. In retrospect he was beginning to see how poor his planning had been.

There's no way I can do this in one trip, even then I don't even have a get away driver. Shit there's no way I can take all this with me on my bike.

This was beginning to turn into a matter of credibility for him. He was only just starting as an honest villain, he needed the entire stache to maintain his burgeoning reputation. He'd treat himself and sell the rest to mob doctors and prostitutes for an exorbitant price.. He couldn't merely steal a small portion of it, not only would that be practically worthless, he'd lose face. He had picked out the most expensive medicines and piled them onto a gurney secured them with a blanket. From outside he could begin to hear sirens, he could pick out the NYPD and an ambulance from the sound. He checked the feed from the SPD out front, his hologram was moving out of the building. Shit, looks like I'm playing this next part by ear.

 

[Fury Is Me.]

Lina leaned in real close to Marcus' hand as the fingers crackled with power, which she assumed could fry her if she shook his hand now. She was definitely interested. Lifting herself away from the cracking digits, she gave Marcus another friendly smile. "So you make electricity? Cool! Are you going to work in the science field here or something? Or are you all for the field and ready for action?"

 

[Baldrek]

Waldemar had stepped out of the car as it came to a halt and listened to Kurt's plan. "Sounds good." He remarked as he looked around and spotted a building on the opposite end of the street that had less stories than the others, and thus it would be easier to keep an eye on what was happening at ground level, or at least that was what he thought would be the case. "I'll be up in that building there. Oh, and..." He withdrew his phone and looked at the number on it, which he guessed was Seraphim's internal numbers for these devices. "The number's 279453, so we can keep in contact."

Having passed on the number he again secured the phone to his harness and ran over the street towards the building he had designated, an ordinary apartment block by the looks of it, though Waldemar couldn't be sure. Still it didn't require anything to gain access from the outside, as the fire escape was already folded down. 'Someone has probably already escaped this way due to the commotion then, less work for me.' He thought as he used it to climb all the way to the roof of the building, giving him a good vantage point over the street in front of the clinic.

Sitting down at the edge of the roof and using the ledge to support his firearm, Waldemar took out his phone and called Kurt and, he guessed, this Arlana as well. "This is Waldemar, I'm in position overlooking the front of the clinic." He said as he kept the gun trained on the entrance to the clinic, but just as he had delivered his message the door opened and out came what looked like one of the store's clerks carrying a small box in his hands. He was followed moments later by a person dressed in a black duster with a helmet shaped like some kind of wolf? Or maybe a dog? It didn't matter, the gun he was pointing at the clerk however most certainly did matter.

"This is Waldemar, the villain has exited by the front door, he's got a single hostage held at gunpoint, a pistol from the looks of it." He told the others as he kept his rifle pointed at who he presumed was the villain, though the longer he looked at him the more a feeling nagged at the back of his mind, like something was just off, it was almost like the way he sometimes moved seemed to skip a beat in the fluid motion. Waldemar blinked his eyes, it was probably just his imagination, or his vision playing tricks on him. This was a pretty stressful situation after all, and he might still have some jet-lag from his trip across the Atlantic.

He focused solely on the gun again as the villain continued advancing, apparently telling the clerk what to do and directing him with the odd motion from his gun. Waldemar observed for a moment, feeling the rifle in his hands, and then made up his mind. "I can hit his gun from this distance, just say the word."

 

[Arcanist]

"So you make electricity? Cool! Are you going to work in the science field here or something? Or are you all for the field and ready for action?"

"Make it? Only in small quantities. It's complicated, but the best way to describe my powers would be to think of me as a giant, talking battery. I can't just pull power from nowhere, I have to siphon it first."

Marcus looked around for a suitable power source to demonstrate, but decided against the idea. His power draws had a bad habit of damaging power grids. 'Adelbert probably wouldn't like me shorting out this floor's power for the next week.'

"As to your second question, both. Wherever I'm most useful." Marcus looked her over again. 'She doesn't have the accent of a New York City native, and I haven't heard of her.'

"So, where are you from? What drew you to Seraphim?"

 

[PrinceOfShapeir]

"I'm almost at the scene." She opened her wings fully and straightened, filling them with air and quickly slowing to a halt as she dropped onto the clinic's rooftop as silently as possible. She took a quick glance over the side, then dropped her head back behind the barrier. "If his weapon can be dealt with, I can deal with him easily." Normally she'd go as is, relying on her appearance to take the enemy off guard, but something about this Coyote seemed more dangerous than the average goon, maybe it was just that he wore a mask. Generally street thugs didn't do that.

"I'm ready when you are."

 

[RatRace123]

From his vantage point, Werewolf saw the Seraphim heroes roll onto the scene.

Right on cue.
And with that thought, almost as quickly as they had arrived, Werewolf left. Latching a tendril onto an adjacent building, he continued his trek out of The Bronx towards Manhattan.

Hope that poor bastard they're after is ready.

 

[socialtangent]

"Let's go, then." The light around Kurt began to ripple slightly and his form blended into the area around him. By the time he stepped out of the vehicle, he was completely invisible. He approached the window to peer inside. Holding up the clinic was a masked man armed with a handgun. Terrified customers cowered on the floor. Going through the front of the store was asking for trouble, so the back entrance was the logical choice.

"This is Waldemar, I'm in position overlooking the front of the clinic."

"Copy," Kurt replied. If he was careful about it, then he would be in the perfect position to strike when Waldemar fired. "I'll let you know when I'm in. Any word from..." His voice trailed off as he heard the sound of flapping wings from somewhere above him. A large figure flew by and perched up on the clinic roof, moving with a certain kind of grace despite its size. With it stopped, Kurt took a better look. It looked like some sort of monstrous animate statue, with large wings, claws, and a somewhat long tail. It also had distinctively feminine frame, long red hair, and almost marble-like skin. The creature seemed to hold a hand up to her ear.

"I'm ready when you are."

'Okay, so THAT'S Arlana,' Kurt thought. 'Army doctor guy and creepy statue lady. This'll be fun.'

Immediately after Arlana's arrival, the masked man exited the clinic with a hostage that was carrying a box. Kurt pressed himself flat against the window and waited for the two to pass by. A pistol was pressed to the hostage's back and the masked man seemed to be in a rush. Since they were on the move, there wasn't much Kurt could do that wouldn't potentially harm the hostage.

"I can hit his gun from this distance, just say the word."

Waldemar could disarm him, then he and Arlana could swoop in and take care of him. As good a plan as anything. Kurt spoke with a hushed voice. "Take the shot."

 

[Captainguy42]

In an instant, Red Coyote went from planning his next move to nearly jumping through the roof. He had hear a gun-shot, the SPD out front detected a fast-moving object disrupting the hologram.

"Ah! Alright then BoB, switch simulation Beta to run bombBluff4." He snapped, as he scrambled to get the door open. He pushed the medicine loaded gurney out the door and stuck a block of C4 on the frame as he ran for back door of the clinic. Ok, I need to make my plan, so far I've got: Two SPDs, my on person kit, a bike, a gurney full of meds, one more block of C4 and twenty more SPD's on the way from Broadway. I need those reinforcements, so that's where I'll head. As soon as he made it outside he made a left turn down the street and activated his second SPD. As he hit the street the SPD ran a program similar to the firetruck he used earlier, but this one geared more towards blending it, after the SPD ran the test pattern a classic New York Taxicab appeared around him. Thanks to the cities traffic congestion he was able to keep up on feet. So he duck his head, followed the traffic, and hoped that whoever Seraphim sent was dumb enough to be delayed by his ruse so he could cover some ground.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Out front the gun of the Hologram warped as Waldemar's bullet passed through it. For a second the simulation that ran the projection stalled, not knowing how to proceed. It waited until the Battle Observations Bot relayed Ryan's command. The Holographic Coyote suddenly had the gun knocked from his hand as he reached into his jacket and retrieved a detonator. Mark, and the other civilians either ran for it or hit the deck, suddenly the projection stood alone outside the Clinic. With his right hand he pulled open his duster and revealed six heavy blocks of plastic explosives. Without a clear threat, the simulation began turning around and acting like he was trying to spot them. All the while displaying the bombs.

" I don't need to explain do I? I think it's fairly obvious what I'm suggesting here!" He yelled through the SPD's speakers. " Just, stand, back."

 

[PrinceOfShapeir]

"I can't take him, he's got a bomb." She took a quick glance around, finding a door into the building on the roof. "I'll try and get down to ground level." She lay flat and focused on the flesh, her body compacting, the stark-white of her skin turning a healthier pink and her bones shifting and adjusting until the Gargoyle was gone and a girl remained.

Not ideal, she thought. Loose drawstring shorts and a shirt that had been so stretched out it hung down below her waist. Didn't matter, she just needed to get in close enough to engage. She pressed a finger to her ear. "If you get a kill shot take it. If he sets that bomb off, everyone in this clinic will die. It's not worth risking their lives and ours for him." She ran for the door, flinging it open and beginning to descend the stairs. It was a short building, and she emerged into the clinic only a few moments later, quickly painting an expression of fear and bewilderment on her face as she worked her way towards the door.

 

[Fury Is Me.]

Lina blinked a few times, pondering the questions Marcus just asked of her, even though she knew the answers to both absolutely. "Me? Hmmm... Well, I came from Pennsylvania. Altoona, Pennsylvania to be exact. Kinda quiet, we're not the kind of town to be noticed on a map. Not much to say... Left home at sixteen after an incident at home left me with no parents. Sad, but... Well, I don't mope about it too much." Said Lina, chuckling uncomfortably on the last sentence.

She cleared her throat and began speaking again, with renewed composure. "Anyway, yeah, sixteen, left home. I'd always had a sword with me, and i would learn to use it at home, but i had to pawn it for travel money. I spent some time going from town to town, seeing if there was any place that needed a freelance 'Superhero'. I didn't find any place like that until I found Otterwall. It's up in northern Pennsylvania, and it's a very nice place. " She gave a wink. "And perfectly safe too."

"At Otterwall, I found Wolfen. Wolfen was... Kinda like this place, only less... International? They were a tiny place, with only two super heroes, and one of them was medicinal based, a doctor, a mechanic, and a researcher. But man, if they weren't the best at their jobs! I joined them at sixteen, so I guess I didn't waste too much of my life on the road. the best people you'd ever meet, except old Ogre, the doctor... He was a bit weird. He liked to try hypnotism treatments... Eh, I digress. Man, we were the best team you'd ever seen... Otterwall gained some renown because of us. Heheh. 'Round the time I got there, the place was ACTUALLY getting attacked by real threats. Supervillains making a mess of stuff, not major supervillains, but, y'know. There was even this one time this lunatic scientist guy came in with an army of mutated lions wanted to take over the city... So he could take over the moon. We took care of him, alright. Ha..." Lina chuckled with nostalgia.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I blew over your other question... Well, things got really quiet at Otterwall... Believe it or not we actually did SUCH a good time that the crime was so low the police were bored. As much as I loved everyone there, I wanted to continue helping people, cheesy as that sounds. So i bid them all adeu, they gave me a GIANT sword as a parting gift, I freaking love those guys, and I found Serpahim through the internet. I figured i could do the most good here." Lina's smile was pure as gold as she finished her lengthy explanation. "Eheheh. Sorry, was that more than you needed?"

 

[Arcanist]

"Heh, don't worry about it. There are far worse things in this world than being a chatterbox. You want to help people, so you're alright in my book. I just woke up one day, realized I had superpowers, and thought, 'Fuck, what am I supposed to do with these things? NOT be a superhero?'"

Marcus cast a quick look at his watch and started at what he saw - it was already three in the afternoon! So much to do, so little time. "Well, I should get settled in. It was nice meeting you." With a wave, Marcus left for his room.

He opened the door to his apartment, strolled in, and dropped his bags on the couch. It wasn't anything special, just big enough for one person to live comfortably, but it would do. Particularly if Adelbert wasn't boasting and they had a decent engineering lab on site. 'I should really get some maintenance done. I haven't checked the integrity of my suite since that fight with the Tide Twins. That, and I'd like to get a second opinion on my latest projects. Dad's been out of town for a while, and I really need some peer review before I field test it. I should start with - '

A rumble from the pit of his stomach cut that thought short. "Heh. Progress can wait for a decent meal."