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- Multiple posts per day
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- It all depends on what's going on, and my situation.
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- Give-No-Fucks
- Beginner
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- Male
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- Fantasy, Sifi, Apocalyptic, Modern, Horror, Mature, superheroes, steampunk, cyberpunk, furry
Poison X Comics Presents
Iron Head: Power Surge
The comically dressed Mr.Kringle stood there with his bare arms on his hips as the building came down around him. It was on fire, but it was hard to tell with how poor the special effects of the time was. The title villain, King Nothing, glared over at the man in the red muscle shirt and puffy red pants with white cuffs. The wig and fake beard they had John Malkovich wear made him almost unrecognizable, along with the tinted swimmer's goggles he wore over his eyes. "Last time I checked," Mr.Kringle spoke, having John Malkovich intentionally lower his voice so that it sounded a bit more thunderous (which failed completely). "And I always check twice, you're at the top of the naughty list." Mr.Kringle slammed his right fist into the palm of his left hand, before charging King Nothing, played by the, at the time up and coming, Kevin Costner. Iron Head: Power Surge
Aside from the sounds of Mr.Kringle 2: Empire of Dirt playing from the small tube TV that sat on the round table in the middle of the warehouse, the sounds filling the building came from bored, chattering thugs who were playing cards, or sitting in fold out chairs watching the cheesy film on TV and smoking cigarettes. The weapons were already stored in crates filled with bananas, stacking one on top of the other by the large receiving door. The Irishmen were late by fifteen minutes, and the six thugs that were waiting around weren't being paid by the hour. At least they had the calming over-acting of John Malkovich to keep them from getting too bored. Those damn Irish just never seemed to be on time, no matter how many times they sold to 'em. It was hard for the boss to build a criminal empire when their main source of income kept him waiting.
Through the night a figure floated up to the top of the warehouse. Looking through the well lit panel windows at the top of the sloped roof, Anarchy counted out all of the targets she could spot. "I count five, maybe six." She said into the ear piece that Pearson had provided for the team upon hiring on with the program. It was hard to tell exactly how many of them were down there, and it was even more difficult to tell if they were armed with weapons. Due to the fact that weapons dealing is a bit of a high risk job, Anarchy would bet her entire paycheck that the lot of them had some form of firearms, pistols at least. "Expect heavy resistance."
The caravan had arrived; one jet black utility van in the front, a large semi truck with a trailer in the middle, and a second jet black utility van behind it. As they pulled up in front of the warehouse, both of the vans opened their sliding doors. Six men jumped out of each van, making for twelve total. Anarchy was on the wrong side of the building, so she couldn't see the vehicles. If she saw them, she would recognize the black pants, black dry fit long sleeves, tactical vests, ski masks and military grade fully automatic machine guns they were carrying. One of them opened the door of the trailer that was attached to the semi, revealing four Irish mobsters getting ready with dollies for the crates. One of them had a duffel bag filled with money, most likely a couple million.
Anarchy watched as the receiving door slid open. That was the signal they had discussed earlier, and knew that now was the time to strike. "Move in, now. See you down there." Using the flexibility that only came from hours upon hours of yoga, Anarchy placed her hands against the roof just under the window, before flipping herself up into the air. As she came back down, her heavy heels hit the glass of the window pane, shattering it completely. She descended down with grace, her arms spread eagle while her feet were pressed together, her purple cape soaring behind her. The glass that had shattered chased after her. She used her mind to slow herself down, also mentally grabbing a hold of the glass.
"Oh boy, now there really is a lot of you gentlemen, isn't there?" She asked as she gently touched the ground, the glass hovering behind her in multiple different sized shards.