American Paragons

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Heroes for a day? We'll be lucky to last five minutes.



The Iron Gate
Western Edge of Ground Zero​

Prescott's face was ragged from his expression, and exasperation. He looked at Anna intently, his attention pulled from the battle. "Baltor? Fuck."

"Bang."

The white round of Pistelero's gun whizzed across the street, over Andrew's head. The behemoth of iron moved to swipe, randomly knocking things around her back, and her hand hit into the round. A shriek of pain bolstered by her own injuries from the drug rang out, and she took a step back, staggering away and towards a wooden utility pole carrying power lines.

Andrew saw his opportunity, and charged forth at the staggered ironwoman. His punches weren't too powerful, not enough to push the behemoth back on their own, but the aching heat made each blow sting into her all the more as she kept backing away. However, Andrew didn't have the benefit of range to keep him away from being swatted, and a mighty hand cleaved into him, and sent him flying. His now natural forming gem armour quickly engulfed his form as he crashed heavily into a car, buckling its metal beneath his mass, before rolling over it and to the ground. That had certainly hurt like hell, bruising him and maybe cracking a rib; but he was not downed, even if he was flat on his back.

Druid's leaves shot forth, with remarkable force, into the head, pelting the deformed metallic skull, and with another two steps back and random waving of her arms, the ironwoman was pushed back up against the utility pole. It shifted slightly as she leaned against it, the wires stretching taut.

And then the cops opened fire. Their bullets rained down on the ironwoman's hands as she defended herself. Her feet shifted beneath her as a large burst of steam shot forth out of the bands in the metal. She was no longer screaming in pain. No, the noise coming from her now was definitely a different emotion. Her transformation into the form had completed, and now the bestial druggie was ready to actually fight back.

So she did.

Grabbing the car that Andrew had tumbled over, she flung it over in the direction of the police firing at her, and in that proximity, Anna and Druid. Anna was grabbed by Prescott as the car flew at them, and he dove with her out of the way of it as it crashed into the area. The barricades buckled and burst, cops were quickly turned into corpses. The car wreckage bounced and bounded, pieces breaking off and hitting into Prescott as he took the hit for Anna. Not fatally, fortunately for him.

Druid, however, had less of a guardian protecting him from the sudden attack. He moved to avoid it, but unfortunately was struck. He was forced to the ground, hard, hitting his head into dirt and grass, bruising his face and breaking his jaw and nose. The worst of it was that he seemed to be pinned. Seemed to be. While Druid could still feel as if his left arm was being crushed and torn apart by the car, the truth was far worse. Just below his shoulder, his arm was broken off, crushed and gored by the wreckage of the car. It was going to take more than his enhanced healing to put that together. And the worst of it was, he was still conscious, aware of the pain, and his rather awful condition, face down on the ground and possibly bleeding out.

Prescott groaned and got up and off from over Anna, mumbling something about a report on everyone's condition. Making a gesture towards the carnage and trying to tell some of the medical staff to go help whoever needs it.


A Bridge Too Far
Last Bridge Connecting Ground Zero to Rook Island​

"Pretty much just stone now, eh? Well, criminy, I don't think we have the things to kill a stone guy. May give us a bit too much trouble…" the man mused, his hand behind him motioning for the hostages to begin being brought out. They seemed to be tied up, hands behind their backs, and guns pressed into them by some more of the terrorists. It still wasn't quite clear if they were or were not hostages.

The man then held up a hand, and spoke back to those behind him, "Wait, put one back." He turned his attention back to the heroes and golem, "Okay, we don't have anything that can kill the big guy, and if that's our goal, don't think we have anything to exchange that's worth it, because if he gets over here, nothing to tie him up, no collateral, like, man it's not worth it. Send him back, or, bring him up with something that could kill him easy for us. He's got a weakness right? Explosives? Some shit like that?"

He seemed to ponder over that a bit more, silently mulling it, keeping his hand up to tell the hostages not to move. There was some motion, something strange behind the hostages, that Sarah could see. It seemed that one of them, a woman, was being handed something. But it was all behind their backs, obscured, discrete, if it was anything at all. What could it have been? A gun? A knife? A grenade? Or was the pressure of the situation just getting to her?

She didn't have much time to think about it, after she's pushed to the side more behind the golem, her line of sight for what little she could have seen was broken, and then all hell seemed to break loose too.

The one who she could have sworn had something put into his hands broken into a run, ducking down as the gun behind her went off, a shot flying out and into the golem, chipped stone and dust going off from it. It was a brief, tense, horrible moment for them to be in the crossfire. The Grass Bloods and the KPD exchanged a flurry of bullets, before there was stillness. The remaining hostages were put back under cover, and the terrorists went into hiding of their own with them.

During the flurry, Ariette was quick to get low and out of the way of danger, while the golem worked fast to keep Sarah and Oto safe. Despite the whirling whiz of bullets, none of them had been shot save the golem. Which would've been great, but the pelt of a round against the golem had the bullet ricochet downwards, and hit Oto in the foot. He wasn't going to die from this or anything, but he had just been effectively shot in the foot.

The hostage who got away, a brown haired blue eyed woman, stumbled back to her feet, between the heroes, the pinned terrorists, out in the open. Her eyes were wide open, and her lower lip trembling, as she gave a look back as if to see if a gun was on her, before taking another step towards the heroes. "You, gotta help, I, I wanna go… I… there's" she tried to say, but an uncomfortably familiar voice rung out over it.

"Whoa there cowgirl, we've got an exchange program. Don't take another step or we'll pop you right now. Send one of the freaks over and we'll be good!" Those words were not comfortable ones. She looked at the group, with pleading eyes. What was she to do?


Trouble in Paradise
North West Quarter of the Exterior Utopian Wall​

Officer Shin's eyes locked onto Matthew. There was a distinct twitch, and he slowly followed him as he turned and rotated away from having the wall behind him. When the wall was no longer behind Matthew, Shin began to look around like something was missing. Something was wrong. He began to grab his sidearm, when Katsumi spoke up.

"Officer Shin, you okay? Where are the cracks?" His eyes sharply turned from Matthew to Katsumi, his hand jerked up as Sam and Katsumi tried to calm him down. Only Sam was the one looking, Katsumi had turned her back to the now quite mad officer as he pulled his gun on her. Sam and Matthew could see this, of course, and so did Katsumi after a moment.

"Get back in the wall," he said, waving his gun at Katsumi, and then to the wall, "Get back where you came from. Don't. Don't touch me. Stay back! I. I… stay… I… I…" he slouched a bit, his eyes wide, and one hand on his brow. He took a step back, and another, before standing up and placing both hands on his gun and pointing it at Katsumi, "Please… just go. Don't kill us. Don't kill me. Don't kill me. I'll shoot."

It would appear that their attempts to calm him down weren't exactly working.

Elsewhere, Officer Garfield was looking at the two heroes her was supposed to be going with to investigate the wall with, and at them abandoning their work. He understood why they were doing it, he really did. It's why he didn't much want them to have a gun. They weren't trained for this. Not just in the way of not knowing how to properly use one of their guns, but also in handling the stress.

"Look, just, after you get the kid, go back to the precinct. If you don't, and we can't confirm you dead, you're going to have a lot of angry people after you. And remember," he held up his radio, one of the same that they'd have if they wanted to use them, "You can contact us if you need help." He didn't know if they heard it, before he shook his head. He needed to head back to the wall. It was sounding like things were not going very well for Officer Shin and those who stayed with him.

Kyla didn't take long to catch back up with Charlotte, but it wasn't exactly to a good moment. Charlotte had lost track of the kid. She knew he went down one of these streets, but even with the little activity around them, most people seeming to prefer to hole up or had already gone off elsewhere if they were going to do anything… there just wasn't a sign of the kid any more.

But there was sign of something else. Someone was trying to sneak out from one of the alleys, only to fail, tripping over a garbage bin, and dropping something to the ground. Charlotte couldn't quite tell what it was, but Kyla could swear it was a bottle or something. Not a big thing, but it was small and glass, and it seemed to have something orange in it. Whatever it was, the failure of a sneak quickly snatched it up and put it in their jacket, before turning back to the alley, and making a motion like they were telling something to back up.

Slowly, a large truck labeled as if a KPD truck, began to back into the street under the guidance of the figure. It was a man, most of his skin was hidden, but it was definitely a man, and he didn't seem to have noticed Charlotte and Kyla yet.

This was odd. That man didn't seem to be a police officer, and in all the talk about where officers were put out, nothing had mentioned anything this far from the wall…[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]
 
Mission 1C

Sam had never had a gun pointed in his general direction. Ever. The closest thing he had to the experience was maybe being pelted by BB bullets, but never a real loaded weapon. It wasn't pointed at him, per say, it was pointed at Katsumi. Still, a gun was a gun, and you didn't want one of those pointed anywhere near you. Officer Shin was clearly not in the right state of mind. His babbling about the wall made no sense and he wasn't himself, unless he was always an unstable, gun wielding nutjob. Sam was genuinely afraid the man would fire the gun. He held his hands up besides his head in a gesture of surrender, mostly as a reflex. Maybe Katsumi or that other guy would know what to do. They were supposed to be super powers, right? They'd know what to do.

"Guys, uh, Ms. Katsumi. Something's wrong with the Officer, what-what do we do?"

He paid special attention to the crazed look on Officer Shin's face. It made the knot in his stomach even tighter and he could feel his heart hammering against his chest like it was trying to break out. He really didn't wanna get shot by a police officer. He was frightened and couldn't deny it. No, not frightened; terrified.

"Guys?"

He began to try to slowly back away, only to clumsily miss a step and stumble.
 
Mission 1C - Trouble in Paradise
Matthew Yung
(Mistakes were made. Will re-type eventually. For now just as a placeholder.)​
Shin's about to go gun crazy and Matthew doesn't really want to cap an officer. Sam doesn't look like he's going to be much help and Katsumi's frozen up. He searches for an answer and one emerges from within for ______ reason. Shrouded with invisibility cloak, Matthew throws a rock at the street to hopefully distract the officer before he charges at the man.
 
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Andrew Tolliver - Mission 1A: The Iron Gate, #8AFB17
And just that easily, Andrew had been brushed aside. A groan and a slew of curses were muffled by the emerald casing that had overtaken his entirety of its own accord, something he hadn't realized immediately. It didn't take him long to figure it out though, finding incredible difficulty in sitting upright. Worse than that though, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.

Andrew clawed at his face in a panic, the hard crystal sheathing his fingers scratching the surface of that over his face. As his panic increased, he began to instead slam his fists into his face, trying desperately to break open his shell. It cracked with a fourth blow, the first pieces crumbling off with a fifth, then he dug in and tore at the substance. His mouth now exposed, he gasped for air. Regaining his ability to breathe calmed him quickly and in turn, the crystal covering his body retreated into nothing, effectively rendering his struggle pointless. He'd have to work on that.

While he waited for his breathing to slow, the brunet took the time to look around at all the carnage. Some were lucky, but others were dead or dying. Andrew counted himself among the former, his body ached but he could still move, much more easily now that his armor was gone. He could still fight.

Andrew scrambled to his feet, but immediately stumbled forward, catching himself with one hand while the other clutched his side. He coughed a couple of times and winced, realizing he'd hurt himself a little more than he initially thought. It wasn't near enough to stop him though. Now he charged forward for a second assault, the green rock covering his fists shifting into a sharper form this time with the intent of tearing the metal woman apart.

 
[BCOLOR=#808080]Annalicia Rodriguez - Mission 1A: The Iron Gate[/BCOLOR]​


Following the Ironwoman's movements, Anna's eyes widened as she watched giants hands grasp the car beside her and life it above her head. "O-oh shi--" Lifted from the ground and moved out of the way suddenly, she gave a small cry as she hit the ground beneath Prescott, and the car sailed over head. Eyes shut tightly, she listened to his pained grunt and the car smashing into the ground behind them.

As the dust settled, and Prescott shifted above her, Anna hesitantly opened her eyes as she heard the old man mumble about a report on everyones conditions. Shaking lightly in fear, she slowly sat up beside him, immediately noticing his injuries. "You're hurt." Immediately calling for one of the paramedics that ran by, Anna alerted their attention to the Lieutenants injuries.

Stepping away from Prescott and the medic she looked over the blast zone, the bodies of the officers forced a horrible feeling to swell in her gut. Placing a hand over her mouth to stop herself from vomiting, Anna turned her gaze to the wreckage, trying to not only look for a weapon but also a way to help. Eyes widening, she noticed a figure laying beneath the mangled car, a man she had seen in the group of survivors from earlier before.

Rushing over to the broken car with two medics, she kneeled beside him. "H-hey!" God he looked bad. Cringing lightly, anxious hands clenched and unclenched as she moved around him so the paramedics could get in better position to help him. It was hard to look at him, his face was bloody and bruised , and the car was laying right on top of his arm. Licking her lips nervously and staring down at him sympathetically, her voice wavered in uncertainty, "We're going to get you out, okay?"

"Just--Just try staying awake." Staying beside him as the medics surrounded him, Anna kept her eye on the others fighting the Ironwoman, and the giant, herself. Looking over the car, and his body, she began to try to think of solutions. It was hard not to panic, especially as the battle ensued only a number of feet away from them. If she turned her attention towards them now, Anna wasn't sure they'd make it out alive. Turning her attention back to the car, and the pinned man, a heavy frown stretched across her lips, 'If only there was a way I could get him out!'
 
Pistelero tried not to stare at the carnage around him. The screaming, screeching noise of metal folding in on itself like paper, fires billowing up from oilslicks. All this becouse a impossibly strong and superpowered junkie. But Pistelero was a quick thinker, he couldn't allow himself to stationary for even a second. He dodged and weaved, firing his strange white ghost bullets at the things metal clad face and torso. Every 3rd shot being a stun round to one of its massive joints. It was a concentrated effort, keeping himself moving and fireing, jumping debris and taking potshots every chance he got. He had not known about any of this, he had been gifted a power, a way to champion justice and become a legend like his heroes. And it was all going to hell in hand basket on his first day at work. As he reloaded for what must have been the 4th time in 4 minutes, he bellowed out in frustration and anger.

"WE GOT TO GET HER INTO THE POWERLINES!" He shouted over the chaos, poor everything you got into it. His eyes briefly fell on the one of them who had been hit by the car. His arm was severed, no, crushed by the immense weight of the car. This was all his fault, all becouse he could not make the shot. He narrowed his eyes at the monster. No, it was only partially his fault. It was the monstrosities fault, the damn cops fault for being a bunch of power abusing asshats who drove these teens into desperation.

"C'MON SENORITA! LET'S DO THE DANCE MACABRE." He shouted at the ironwoman as he continued his moment of absolute, blisterring offensive. He was reloading so fast his fingers were cramping, pouring the resulting load of strange otherworldy energy into another hail of bullet as fast as his trigger finger would him.
 
Byron - Mission 1A: The Iron Gate​

One moment Byron was standing there readying another round of leaves to fire at the monster, then something flew at him and the next thing he knew he was laying down. His face was down in the dirt, and he felt a dull throbbing coming from... somewhere. He tried to get up, but for some reason his body wasn't responding. Odd. Why was he laying in the dirt like some filthy peasant anyway? It didn't make any sense. He thought about it for a couple seconds, then remembered something hitting him.

As his head slowly cleared, the throbbing sharpened into a stabbing. His left arm and face where the worst of it, certainly, but he felt like he'd taken a beating all over. Byron heard a wet gurgling sound and realized that it was coming from his throat. It took him another few moments to figure out that he was trying to scream, but the mewling whimper was all he could manage. That was probably a bad sign. Byron tried to roll over onto his back, but all he managed to do was twitch his head to the side. The pain that shot through his face at that tiny motion was enough to elicit a short gasp that interrupted his pitiful attempt at a scream.

He was well and truly fucked up, no doubt about it. There was no way to tell how bad things were, but Byron had enough clarity of mind to think a bit through the pain. His face was clearly horribly damaged, he couldn't even wiggle the fingers of his left arm, doing as much with his right was a struggle, and he wasn't sure if he was actually able to move his toes or if he was imagining the tiny motions. He might have thought he'd broken his back and gotten paralyzed, but he could still feel minor pain all over his body alongside the sharper centers of it. The horrid pain and weak whimpering continued unabated while he was making this assessment in some strangely detached portion of his mind.

Someone was talking to him. A woman. Byron couldn't make out what she was saying, but it came from nearby. Maybe it was an angel, come to tell him he was dying and to take him away from the pain. He didn't fancy the idea of death, but at the moment it seemed a nice alternative to how awful he felt. Aside from the pain, he would almost swear he could feel his heart knocking against his ribs, beating much faster than was comfortable. He couldn't seem to get enough air, and he could only gasp in little bits of it at once. He felt like he'd stepped from a pool out into the heart of winter, chilly and damp. His mouth felt like a desert, as if he hadn't had a drop to drink in days.

Being injured was no fun at all, it seemed. This was the first time Byron had ever gotten seriously injured. Never even a broken bone before this, and now he probably had more than one for his first go. He'd always lived by the notion that one should never do anything by half measures, so he supposed having a horribly severe injury for his first broken bone fit in with that well enough. The thought was almost enough to make him laugh, but he was so damnably tired. Byron closed his eyes, just to rest for a moment. He'd take a break, then figure out was that woman was saying, and then he supposed he would need to get up and find a doctor or something. That could all wait though. He shut his eyes and tried to ignore the pain and his own whimpering, hoping he could just sleep for a few minutes, just five minutes of rest, then he would get up and deal with that metal thing. Yeah, that sounded about right. A quick nap to refresh himself, then kill the monster and save the day. Everyone would be so surprised to see him get up and take down the enemy, but he'd do it, no doubt about it. But first, just a little sleep...
 
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-Mission 1C-
​
She had no idea how such a tiny person could be so hard to find. Admittedly, perhaps part of the benefit of being small and nimble meant slipping out of sight with relative ease, but she was much too busy kicking her own ass to realize that, honestly, it could have happened to anyone. A small part of her wanted to turn tail and return to Officer Garfield, and by extension, the terrifying walls of Utopia, but she found that that decision would have to wait, once the pair of them ended up witnessing what looked like a cop way outside of his assigned jurisdiction for the day. She couldn't make out much from his attire. To her, he just looked like he could be a police officer, albeit very much bundled up, and yet, it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Great, she grumbled, mentally, If the cops aren't hallucinating or offering untrained civilians firearms, they're sneaking around back alleys. Although her gut reaction had been to call out to the man, she took in the look on Kyla's face and instead pulled the other woman towards her as she pressed herself back up against the wall, trying to get out of sight as quickly as possible.

Charlotte pushed some of her hair from her face and let out a sharp sigh, "I'm sorry I lost the kid, but I think this might be a bigger concern." She gestured to the man and his KPD vehicle, and then went on, "Did you notice if he was armed? He dropped something and I don't just want to assume it was a pair of glasses or something else innocuous." Inching a little farther from the brick corner of the building, almost as if that would make a huge difference to her makeshift cone of silence, she looked at Kyla, "I don't intend to rush him or anything, and I don't think he saw us, so I don't think we should worry about him coming after us for the moment. But... since we have no leads, and I don't want to go back to the wall, this could be something of interest for the officers?" She shivered slightly, rubbing her arms against the sudden chill and looked back in the general direction of that strange sight, "I say we tail him and the truck for as long as we can manage. Best case scenario, we stumble on something that will make it up to Officers Garfield and Shin for running off. Worst case--" Paling and biting her lip, she decided to stop herself from detailing any of the ten thoughts running through her mind that involved them getting shot, stabbed, caught up in the sex trade, drugged, or otherwise significantly worse off than they were in this present moment. Instead, she tried again, "Hell, we might even cross paths with the brat again!" That suggestion was punctuated with such a weak laugh, that she really wondered why she brought it up.

Holding out her hands, she remembered that she had been able to somehow speed up that man who had found her at the blast site. Suddenly, her plan didn't seem that far fetched, "I know you can teleport and all, but I can also probably speed us up enough to keep up with the truck... maybe even slow it down, if I really try. We'd be able to keep tabs on it. If you have a better idea, speak now, in case he saw us." The blonde made sure she wasn't speaking any higher than the faintest of whispers, but she couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling that the figure was peering over shoulder as she spoke.​
 
Trouble in Paradise
Somewhere After Tailing Some Punk-Ass Kid
​
Kyla studies the sight, uncertainly before Charlotte grabbed hold of her and as the least subtle people in existence, had them hiding up against the wall. If they had been noticed, they sure as hell would look like a problem now. She blinks and listens to what she had to say, setting her jaw before sighing and nodding. "Okay, you make a fair point, Blondie," she rubs along her jaw before slinging the gun back off her shoulder and holding it out to Charlotte, "Look, things get into a jam, I imagine between my talent there and my skills in fighting, I can stand a fair chance against any two-bit thug, no problem. I'll be like that, uh, Neo guy, but ya know, less stupid." She chuckles and runs her free-hand back through her hair, "And chances are, you know how to use one of these things better than I do. I barely know which end's the dangerous one."
 
Sarah and Ariett
1B: A Bridge Too Far
Ariett took a moment to calm herself down after the flurry of gunfire, checking herself to see if she was injured—thankfully, she was not. But alas, the situation had taken a turn for the worse with the hostage's escape. Taking a careful peek around 'Viktor', she could see that the woman who had attempted to flee was in quite a panic. "Just—wait there for now!" she called out, both to the woman and the armed terrorist.

Returning to the cover of the golem, she glanced at her companions. Oto was injured, it seemed. Taking Sarah aside for a moment, she muttered, "It looks like we'll need to decide quickly. Are we gonna go through with this trade?"

Sarah, at the sight of what could possibly be a weapon being shoved into the escaped hostage's hands, was more than a bit startled, but didn't have a chance to confirm what the object was. Ariett pushed her to the cover of the golem's body, and when the gunfire erupted, Sarah was thankful that she did.

Once the barrage stopped, and Ariett was behind the golem as well, they had to act. She could patch up Oto's wound, most likely, but she didn't know how flashy her making her magical Silly Putty would be, or how long it'd take. A glance and a grimace was all she could afford to offer.

"It might be the only way to get close enough to take them out. But...before that woman escaped, I thought I saw something get shoved into her hands. It may be a weapon." Sarah paused, thinking. After a second, she proposed her thoughts. "Either you or I have to go over in exchange for her, Ariett. The one who stays over here can work with Viktor here to subdue that woman, should she have something." She sighed "...of course, this is assuming they don't fill us full of lead before we make it over there."

Though not exactly relishing the decision, Ariett felt it her responsibility to take the bait. She didn't know a thing about her companions, but she knew she herself would hardly be missed if worst came to worst. "I'll go." She pondered for a moment. "I doubt we'll be able to get the other hostages out, so once she—" At this, she designated the woman open on the street. "—is safe, cut your losses, take them out. I'll try to survive," she added, with a half-assed attempt at a smile of confidence.

A cold stone settled in Sarah's stomach as Ariett took up the role to be the trade. Either they'd all make it back to the KPD, or there were about to be three fresh corpses added to the Blast Event death toll. Her face grew more somber, focused, before she nodded. "...Alright. Let's hope they like to boast before their kills." This didn't sound reassuring at all, but it was probably the only thing to give them a chance. "Good luck, hon. We can do this."

Ariett smiled at her attempts at reassurance. "Thanks. Make sure Oto's got Viktor ready." That said, she turned and slowly revealed herself from behind the golem, arm raised above her head. She glanced at the woman again standing between the two opposing forces, before addressing the man she quickly learning to dislike.

"Here I come—kindly lower the gun and let her go." She furtively motioned the brunette to get moving as she slowly walked towards the barricade. A thought sprung forth—a plan, though weak. "Consider this a leap of faith. The down payment." Her face was grim as she strove to barter with a man clearly lost to fanaticism. "Get the rest after I've given the A-OK on the other hostages." This wouldn't help so much in actually getting those hostages out of there—at this point, she felt they might have to resort to plain-old violence, if they wanted any chance of getting all seven of them out alive. However, it would at least give them a reason not to kill her the instant they laid hands on her.

Sarah prepared to receive the hostage, muscles tensing when Ariett began to go out on a limb and buy them a chance. She knew what she was doing, at least partially, and her quick thinking might even save them. But she had to make sure the hostage was taken care of. Sarah made a small nod with her head, signaling the police. "Come on over. You alright?" She quietly questioned the freed woman cautiously.​
 
.... he'd do it, no doubt about it. But first, just a little sleep...



The Iron Gate
Western Edge of Ground Zero​

Anna didn't quite like her options, that was to be sure. And things only got worse for her; upon trying to move Druid, she found that she could, but for only the worst of reasons why. The car was not crushing him. It had gone, not clean, but through his arm when it knocked him down. Blood was pooling as his arm was quickly bleeding out. Even his enhanced healing didn't seem to be much of a help at the moment, despite Anna being able to see tendrils of his flesh and muscle spasm and grow as if in a desperate struggle to fix whatever was wrong. His skin was going cold in her touch, and paling. It didn't seem like he was going to make it unless he got out of there right the fuck now.

Medical officers rushed to the scene from the sidelines, some holding their stomachs mentally in, in a way that Anna was unable to do. The sight of the blood, the gore, the bone cracked and the flesh in its ruinous attempt to mend itself were too much for her, and so she hurled where she stood, unable to hold it in any more, and able only to take a step back and steady herself so she didn't fall into her own vomit. Unfortunately, her vomit spray splattered part onto Druid and the car. Not that he would notice, he didn't seem to be conscious any more.

Taking Anna back from Druid, a few men grabbed him and began to get him the hell out of there, trying to get him to something to patch him up, and away from the ironwoman.

The cops who hadn't met an unfortunate fate almost instantly with the opening salvo were back into what they could only hope was good enough cover and trying to fire at the ironwoman. She had moved back into deflecting again, blindly feeling around for another car, only for a rather righteous pummeling to come upon her. Andrew's gemclad fists hit her clean in the gut, and in the direction Pistelero had called out when he opened fire as well. The combined fire from the teams had her pressing back against the utility pole, as it began to creak. The electric wires stretched taut, and one finally snapped, lashing about with sparks, and striking against the sides of the ironwoman.

She did not like that at all.

She grabbed at the wire and held it away from herself, but continued to lean against the pole. More pressure could cause her to be a bit overwhelmed, as far as Pistelero could tell. Definitely. With one hand holding the first snapped cord back, and the other alternatingly trying to deflect bullets and swat aside Andrew in vain, it seemed that the ironwoman was up against the ropes so long as they don't mess things up now.

Druid was loaded into the back of an emergency response vehicle, but before two of the medical officers could take him, Prescott stopped them, "Whoa, where are you going?"

"He's a VIP, we're supposed to treat him first," one of them, a younger black man answered.

"You can't both go with, we need you here for our wounded. He's a VIP but he's got goddamn powers. The others don't!" he shouted, his voice rising up above even the gunfire. He quickly pointed at Anna, "She can drive, so only one of you has to go."

"But she," the man tried to say, only to be interrupted.

"We don't have fucking time!" Prescott shouted, "I don't fucking care if she doesn't have the right fucking license, she can fucking drive to the fucking Knight's Crest Hospital, and you can fucking get BACK. TO. FUCKING. WORK." He turned sharply to Anna, as the black man muttered and ran from the vehicle to the other casualties. With eyes fiery and his authority, and anger, in full force he ordered her to, "DRIVE."


A Bridge Too Far
Last Bridge Connecting Ground Zero to Rook Island​

The blond lowered his gun, "Alright, she's yours, walk on forward now." There was something off. It was clear as day on his face, but there wasn't a lot of room to act on it as Ariett began to move forward for the exchange, passing the brunette who was free of the gun pointed at her.

Yet, the brunette looked terrified still, not relieved in any way. She was trying to speak, but afraid of what she could or couldn't say. She wanted to show them what was behind her. She wanted to let them know. Maybe they could protect her. She stumbled forth, her eyes in a panic, and she spoke hurriedly, trying to be too quiet for the Grass Bloods to overhear her, "You don't, I, they put a--"

The golem reacted faster than Oto could physically, going into motion as his mind roared for it to move. It stepped forward and put itself between them and the blast. It couldn't position itself to be of any use to Ariett, but it could save them. But despite their best intentions, they could not save her. Whatever her name, they had failed her.

The sound was deafening, a solitary note followed by a buzzing in their ears. Viktor was crumbling, but Sarah and Oto were alive and well, Oto's foot notwithstanding, and them being flat on the ground aside. And, the horror of seeing the giblets of remains of the woman that they had failed to save splattered across the bridge top.

Ariett was less fortunate than even they. When the explosion shot forth, her instincts and reflexes coupled with her powers could only do so much. She was sent hurled near over the side, her body knocked against the guard rails and a car. There was a crack, as she hit the sides but managed to keep her head and neck from snapping back and forth as her forcefields burst forward in an attempt to do something to protect her. What little they did, she was alive, conscious, but in a lot of pain. Breathing hurt, and her right arm was very sore. Attached, and unbroken, but sore and bleeding to boot.

"Yeehaw, sure did love seeing that, one freak down. Boom!" And as it was with ironic timing, his last word punctuated a bullet through his head. A sniper round sliced clean through him, killing him rather efficiently with his dead body slumping forward. It seemed the hostage negotiations were off. Whether or not the hostages were real was still not entirely certain, but with the death of that hostage, and of the arrogant negotiator for the terrorists… things had shifted into a new gear, with the shellshocked heroes in the middle of it.


Trouble in Paradise
North West Quarter of the Exterior Utopian Wall​

Chaos would be an appropriate word to describe the scene at the wall between Sam, Matt, Katsumi, and Officer Shin. One hero made a valiant effort, another a bumbling, and the third too terrified for a gun levied on them like this to even move in light of it all. The stumble, the charge, the trigger. Sandwiched between two heroes, Officer Shin didn't even need to intend to pull the trigger. The commotion, the polar forces, he couldn't have even been sure he meant to pull it any more.

But he did.

Knocked back and forth, the aim was not so dead centre Katsumi's chest, but a shot to the torso even off kilter was a nasty place to be shot. The bullet ripped into her stomach, fortunately lower of things like the heart and lungs, but with the gut pierced she'd need to be operated on or risk all sorts of bad things. She slumped to the ground, as Officer Garfield walked up at the scene.

"I heard a gunshot, what's going… Jesus Christ."

Elsewhere…

It would seem that the man at the truck hadn't noticed the duo as they made a haphazard attempt at stealth to avoid being seen. He guided it all the way out as it turned in a direction away from the wall. Perhaps it was going to one of the other sites that needed help? There were a few and it wasn't like they had gotten word on how things were going for them. But if it was by truck, then it could only be going to the bridge, although the use of that truck there wasn't entirely clear.

As the truck pulled into the street, the man gave a thumbs up to the driver, and turned around to go to the back and open it up. Inside the two could see barrels. Lots and lots of barrels. Inside with them was another man, not wearing the uniform of a police officer, and whom Kyla could have sworn had a glimmer to his form. But it didn't last long. The other man was armed, wielding what looked like an assault rifle, that both of them could see clear, and was handing another one to the other man as he climbed into the back.

And then the man who handed the gun over made a small jerk with his head. Like he was turning back to look at something. He made a gesture, out of the truck and in the general direction of Charlotte and Kyla. Had he seen them? They were up against a car, hidden rather well, or so it would seem. Ultimately, however, the two seemed content to close bang against the side of the truck, and have it drive off elsewhere. Instead of using a radio, which struck the two as both odd and a bad sign.

This was definitely something, but whatever it was, it was starting to drive away.

A voice came in over the radio, "We've got one wounded, gunshot, abdomen," it was Officer Garfield's, his voice was shaking and far more methodical than normal, "Officer Shin is detained, in cuffs. The wall got to him. No cracks on our quadrant, just madness. Requesting, god, requesting transport of him and wounded away from the wall. Over."

"Roger that, sending someone to pick them up. Anything else unusual going on over there?" came another voice, some other officer's. If the two of them were going to bring up the truck, this was as golden of an opportunity as they'd get.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]
 
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Andrew Tolliver - Mission 1A: The Iron Gate, #8AFB17
The emerald encasing Andrew's fists stretched across his arms as he raised them in defense during the brief time before the monstrous Iron Woman took hold of the snapped cables. Again, it seemed as though his powers seemed activate involuntarily when lethal injury felt imminent. Convenient. Rather curious as well, but he'd have to look into it at a later time. Right now he was on the offensive and he couldn't afford to let up, not that the flow of adrenaline would allow him to if he wanted.

In a rush, Andy closed any distance between himself and the metallic fiend and laid into her once more. He'd push his assault without even a hint of reservation, one vicious strike after another after another. This crystalline berserker wasn't going to stop until either he was rend unable to carry on, or his opponent lay motionless before him.


 
[BCOLOR=#808080]Annalicia Rodriguez - Mission 1A: The Iron Gate[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=#808080]Western Edge of Ground Zero[/BCOLOR]

​
It was hard having to see someone so hurt like this, and it only made it harder for Anna knowing she could do so little for him. Of all the abilities, why couldn't she have gotten stuck with some sort of healing power, or super strength!? Cursing herself silently she looked over the wrecked car before an exasperated sigh heaved from her chest as she figured there was no way to move the damn thing on her own. This whole situation sucked, and she knew that if she didn't do something fast, he was going to die.

His pained whimpers were what kept her searching for a way to help him, and despite her lack of options, as long as he was still alive she wasn't going to stop trying to find a way. Constantly speaking to him in attempts to keep him conscious, Anna soon began to panic as his small noises grew silent. "Shit--Hey, man! Stay with me!" Kneading down on one knee, she carefully slid her right arm beneath his chest, while her other hand gently held his left side. "I'm just gonna try to move you, okay?" Not expecting a response she readied herself for a game of tug of war only to realize his arm was not pinned beneath the car once she moved him. In fact, he wasn't even attached to his fucking arm! "Ohmyg--"

The gore, and blood was too overwhelming, and before she could slap a hand over her mouth or set him down at a safe distance, her gut flipped and vomit sprayed on the car, and unfortunately on her unconscious man. Groaning in shock, her face was red hot with embarrassment as she finally sat him down. She hadn't intended to loose her breakfast on him, but the poor guy was just so torn up.

The medics were quick to come to his, thankfully. Lifting him from the ground and quickly carrying him along a stretcher to the Paramedic van, Anna coughed nauseously and waited for her stomach to calm down before following after them. It didn't sit well with her knowing she had done little to help her injured teammate. Hell--With the way he bled when she moved him, she was pretty sure she had only made things worse. Scowling at herself, she lowered her head in shame as she imagined how ridiculous she must have looked. How the hell was she supposed to be a hero if she couldn't even help one damn person?

Concerned eyes watched her teammate get loaded into the van, and as the second paramedic attempted to hop into the vehicle they were suddenly stopped by Prescott. The Lieutenants voice rose by the second, quickly crushing the mans plans on leaving the Blast Zone. Becoming just as stunned as the medic, her eyes went wide as Prescott turned his full attention to her. "DRIVE." Without questioning him, Anna moved into gear with a quick, "Yes sir'," before yanking the keys from the Medics hand and running over to the van.

Many would argue against her claims, as would her driving record, but Anna had always considered herself a good driver. However, in a less then two years her license had been revoked four times, all charges consisting of speeding, and reckless driving. The honest truth was that Anna really didn't have her license, and it wasn't because she didn't know how to drive. She was a damn good driver, but in her eyes, some rules were just meant to broken--especially in a circumstance like this.

Heart pounding in her chest, and adrenaline fueling her confidence Anna slammed the driver door shut and buckled her seat belt, "Hang in there, man! I'm gonna get you out of here!" Turning the key in the ignition the vans engine roared to life before she placed a hand on the stick shift.

All they needed was a little time to get away from that Ironbitch, and get out of the White Fence and they were home free till' they reached Knight's Crest Hospital. She had never been a religious person, but if anyone was listening, Anna could only pray that they heard her now. 'Give us strength, and give us time. And for what you've put us through today, it's the absolute least you could do for us right now..'

Finishing her prayer, Anna dryly swallowed before returning her focus to the road "Alright! Buckle up, and hold on to something!" Shifting the gear into drive, and slamming on the gas peddle, the paramedic van charged forward and drove over broken debris. Swerving onto the road, the van shook roughly until Anna regained control and straightened out. Keeping her eyes on the Ironwoman, and the road ahead, her hands clenched the steering wheel tightly as drove straight for the flattened entrance and exit of White Fence.
 
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Mission 1C - Trouble in Paradise
Matthew Yung​
He had not expected for Sam to fall against the officer just as he himself shoulder checked the man, but against the odds that was just what occurred. Rather than drive himself and the other man to the concrete, Matthew instead found himself holding up the two others. To make matters worse, he could feel the shroud peel off his skin, the fuzzy feeling dissipating rapidly. With a shove he pushed himself away from the two, falling and rolling on the floor, but it was too late. Even as he hit the ground with an oomph, an unmistakable crack filled the air and he scrambled to his knees just in time to watch Katsumi slump to the ground, hands clutching the spreading red.

A familiar, if unexpected voice, broke the shock that gripped his mind, jump starting it, and he stood up to follow after Garfield as he tried to explain what happened. His first words were barely understandable, shaky and almost incoherent, to Matthew's anger. Garfield didn't seem to mind though as he knelt and took the handgun from Shin's hands before he cuffed his co-worker with a shake of his head. He then quickly moved over to try and help Katsumi with Matthew tagging along, trying to organize his thoughts. As the officer began to perform whatever emergency first aid he could, Matthew took a deep breath and started again with his "report". The first thing covered was when officer Shin had started to lose it and as soon as he had finished recounting what he remembered, Garfield held up a hand as if to signal that was enough. It was so abrupt that he stumbled over a few words before stopping completely.

"Come here and put some pressure on it," the officer said as he shifted his position so Matthew could kneel down. He did so and grimaced a bit as he pressed down on the makeshift dressings, feeling the blood that had begun to soak into the fabric. As the officer got up and walked away, speaking into a radio, he sighed shakily at the shallow breaths he could feel and hear from Katsumi. He didn't know if he said it for her or his own sake, but a quiet, "Help's coming," was muttered.
 
-Mission 1C-
​
It took a few moments for her to process what had just transpired. Those men had had guns, no doubt, and no matter how many angles she tried to take with the situation, there was really no convincing herself that those two had just been plain old, helpful, benign gumshoes or beat cops. Charlotte was reminded of the situation at hand when she heard the radio sputter to life with the distressed Officer Garfield's imploring voice. She wasn't really used to this whole thing, this world in which she had powers and kids vanished into thin air, walls drove people crazy and armed men lurked around every corner. Drawing in a shaky breath, she decided it would only be right to add in her two cents.

"We just saw a KPD vehicle..." she paused and glanced back up the alleyway, as if expecting to see a ghost of the car that she could visually probe for authenticity's sake, "What appeared to be a KPD vehicle with two strange men inside. One was acting suspicious prior to entering the vehicle, the other, well, I couldn't make out too clearly, but they both had guns." The blonde looked to Kyla for a moment before taking her thumb off of the radio so that she could have a moment to compose herself. She didn't want to leave anything out, but at the same time, the more she spoke, the less she clearly remembered.

"Hey, Kyla. You have any idea which back alley this is, by any chance? Might make it easier for them to dispatch someone to tail them," her voice managed to betray the sense of calm she was trying to cultivate inside her chest, but she knew that to push it would be absolutely foolish. It was dawning on her that she prioritized a brat, some inconsequential street urchin, instead of staying and helping the people who needed her most. She didn't even want to help the kid, not really. Selfish desires of self-preservation had spurred her on. Sure, saving a kid would help her sleep at night, but so would avoiding having to face down a thirty foot monster that might have been inside of Utopia. Bringing her hand to her stomach, she also remembered that Officer Garfield had mentioned there were wounded people back at the wall. Charlotte thought back to those faces she had just barely begun to process after their hasty introduction and felt her own face paling. If her absence had caused any of them to get seriously hurt... she didn't want to think about that, and she nudged the radio in Kyla's direction with some insistence. ​
 
Ariett Deveca
1B: A Bridge Too Far

Pain racked her body as Ariett tried to regain some sense of her situation.

Her ears throbbed, sound echoing through as if through some thick bubble, and where she wasn't overcome by immense anguish, her body was dull and abstract, as if she had lost the ability to control it. Languidly gyrating her chest up and down in an attempt to regain control, she eventually succumbed to the weakness and lay upon the pavement, breathing heavily.

Staring up at the sky, her mind was full only with repeated obscenities for quite some time. Ariett hated this feeling f powerlessness. Pain was something she could fight—she had pulled herself from the cold embrace of a metal rod just this self-same day, and then limped her way, unhindered, to medical aid. She had been in control. Unfortunately for her now, however, it was not mere suffering of the flesh, but also of the mind. Forcing her body into cooperation was not an option when she could not even feel it beyond a vast ache.

Very slowly, she found herself able to hear again, and Ariett tested the use of her limbs. Only her right arm seemed particularly obtuse. Clutching it to her chest with a grimace, she rolled onto her side and began crawling out from beside the car and towards the police holdout.

Ariett was far too professional to leave business unfinished.
 
Mission 1C
Kyla "Flashfire" Booker

So there she was, standing there like some idiot staring after the possibly dirty cops as they take off further into Kuakilla, away from the way. She sets her jaw, about ready to take off after them. These were the sorts who caused problems for her and her brothers just because they were a little grittier than most. Suddenly, though, she had a radio being jammed into her hands.

The woman stops and looks at her companion, dumbfounded. "Jeesh, can't you just look at the street signs?..." Kyla rolls her eyes as she shifts to get a good look at the post at the intersection, declaring over the speaker where they were and along which road and the direction the cops were going.

She frowns and ruffles through her hair, bouncing from foot-to-foot in the chilled air to keep warm as she tries to think things through. Finally, though, she sighs. Some asshole had lost it and shot one of their companions? Fine, it may be just a bit more pressing to go back and help... Especially since the kid was nowhere to be seen, thanks to Charlotte.

Kyla gestures for the rich-priss to follow along with her as she looks both ways along the street to see if no one else was around. Satisfied, she goes up to the parking lot nearby and starts jimmying handles until the door of one of the vehicles clicks open, the owner obviously a bit dumb and trusting not to lock it up tight. "Come on, get in the other side," she huffs, getting down on the floorboard (grimacing at the bits of crusty fallen fastfood) and sets to hotwiring the car. She hopes Charlotte would not say anything. It was not really like she went around doing it all the time... She just picked up a few tricks in her youth.
 
Sarah Yamamoto - Mission 1B
​
After years of wondering and pondering by the human race, Sarah Yamamoto could finally confirm what failure tasted like.

Pavement, gunsmoke, and a hint of blood.

She dredged herself up, ears stuffed with invisible cotton but body still in tact, forcing herself not to look behind her, where the female hostage once was. Well, you could say she was still there, but she was also everywhere in the immediate area at the same time. And not in the mind-shattering, existential-crisis-solving way.

Don't look, don't look, for the love of all that is right, please don't look!

Sarah tried to stay low, to avoid any fire she could that was headed her way as she scampered over to the police. Ariett had to have taken the worst of the blow, and Sarah silently prayed that she was alive. Coming from someone who spent maybe a total of half an hour in church in her entire life, that was something.

A thread of worry in her mind tugged, and it begged her to look in Ariett's direction. Across the bridge, and the gore that was now coating the area, Sarah saw the young woman crawling her way to their side. She was in worse shape, definitely...oh, Goddammit, she couldn't just leave her! Ariett had put herself on the line for them, and Sarah had to at least try to return the favor.

And like that, she was moving towards Ariett, using what cover she could, and hoping she'd make it.
​
 
Sam jerked up at the sound of the gunshot. Every hair on his body stood on end in surprise and his ears rang with the sound. He'd never heard a gun go off, at least not a real one. He thought he'd been hit until he saw Katsumi was the one bleeding. There was a lot of blood, more than he's ever seen in one place. It was the first time he'd ever seen anyone get an injury worse than falling or hurting an ankle. Hell, it was the first time he'd seen a gunshot! It was turning into quite a day for firsts. First major accident? Check. First gunshot? Check. First time seeing a bullet wound? Check. First city-destroying disaster? Check. First patrol of a mega-compound housing horrors? Check.

After the pause that usually comes with an unexpected accident, a lot of activity seemed to start up. One of the cops showed up and started cuffing Officer Shin. That other dude helped him. Sam sort of tuned all of this out. He couldn't bring himself to move. He was probably regressing back into shock. He just focused on his own hammering heart and his trembling limbs. Not to mention the terror of this heaping on top of what he'd already been through today, making it just heavy enough to tip it a little in the wrong direction.

"Ooooh... Ooooh my god..."

Why was he here? He wasn't one of these people! He wasn't a super hero! He didn't have powers! He couldn't do this! It was too much! If he hadn't already been on his ass, he would have collapsed onto it. He scooted back from the scene a little with his legs and brought his knees up to his chest. He held them and rocked back and forth a little. This was too much and shock had definitely set in again.

"I wanna go home.
I wanna go home.
I wanna go home."

He quietly repeated this new mantra, hoping deep down it would somehow work and he'd be taken away from here. He placed his forehead on his knees.

"I wanna go home.
I wanna go home."

His voice quivered and wet tears landed on his dirty, torn up shirt. He was only some kid from the suburbs. He didn't belong here.

"I wanna go home.
I wanna go home.
I wanna go home."

First time going into shock twice in one day? Check.
 
Pisteleros focuses his fire on the giant metal womans face and when she raised her hands he'd go right back to shooting on her knee joints. Always moving, constantly ducking from cover to cover. He could feel his muscle grow weary and his hands were slowly growing numb from the constant recoil of his guns. But he was in the zone, it all fell in place so naturally. He was now protecting people, he was using his powers for good! That was awesome! A grin on his face as he continued his onslought. The shadows fell on his face in the harsh light from fires and his guns, who sounded like muffled thunder in the inferno. The sharp cracks and rumbling noise as the supernatural revolvers spewed its payload onto the giant.

All his efforts was focused on driving the giant trought the electric cables. "AS SOON AS YOU SEE THOSE CABLES SNAP. GET THE FUCK OUT OF DODGE: SHE IS METAL: CONTACT WITH HER MIGHT ELECTROCUTE YOU!"
 
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