Shield of Tomorrow

[Thuro 116 Pendragon]

Click.

Click.

Click.

The annual clacking of the tram was a dull torture to your ears as you descended deep into the earth like one of Jules Verne's characters in the Journey to the Center of the Earth. The cloth hood over your head obscured all sight save for the occasional flash that only served to further your general distortion. After what seemed an eternity, the moving platform stopped, leaving you to ponder your fate for a half a second until you feel a boot plant itself squarely in your back, shoving you into the endless void that you hadn't known was in front of you.

If you are a religious type that believes in the afterlife, you pray to your god. Or if you are the type that believes in only yourself and the physical universe, you collect your thoughts and wait for the end.

You fall.

And you land square on your face ten feet later. After picking yourself off from the dirt, you feel a hand roughly jerk the hood off your face. In front of you is a girl in her late twenties with a short bob of hair, one half of it died a dark blue. She wears a heavy brown duster, and has a concerningly large metal pipe slung over her shoulder. The look in her eyes warns you that messing with her will end badly. She is quickly joined by grizzled looking men and women, your hoods held firmly in their hands.

"Newbies eh? You feller's lucky I'm here for the meet and greet. I'm lot nicer than the other guy. He tends to take advantage of those things..." She gestured to the metallic band encircling your right wrist with a casual nod of the head. "...and send one a'two partners into enemy territory. Instant fiery place."

You suddenly notice that the magnetic attachments between the bands that were holding your arms behind your back disengage, with the left hand band falling off entirely. The right hand band remains fastened securely on you however.

"First rule of the Pit, you find your partner and stick with them like your goram life depends on it, cause I reckon it does 'less you can survive the something 'kin to a grenade going off in your hand. You'll know your partner from the six digit code scratched on into your bracer."

Spoiler

Tate – Trunks
9277467

Namanie - Casshern
79673

Corrin - Two
744353

Lucifer – Zara
932766

Lincoln - Damask
6278376463

Jenson - Mukuro
486837

Aeryn Olivia Crichton - Haller
94532273

"Other than that, I reckon it's best if you all explore for yourselves. I don't force people into joining the Browncoats, not like those frelling Pit Demons. Just a word of warning, stay outta the lower levels. Somethin dangerous lives down there." She turned to leave, the apparent Browncoats falling in behind her. Then she stopped, suddenly realizing she had forgotten something important. "By the way, if you're a genefreak, don't try and use your powers. Those cuffs'll blow."

The direction the Browncoats walked away in was decidedly bland, but appeared to be safe, and you might be able to get some more information about the pit. The opposite direction was much more interesting, with walls covered in horn markings and what appeared to be blood, but something about the air here seemed foreboding, dangerous. Both directions led into a vast collection of buildings and upper and lower levels that circled around them, the area where they had been kicked off the tram almost feeling like the center of an ancient arena as a result. Off to the side, a sharp sloping path led down to the lower levels, where the girl had explicitly warned them off of.

You could trail after the Browncoats, follow them into their territory.
You could head the opposite direction.
You could sit here and try and figure out another plan as a group.
You could go down.

@Verite @CookieMonster @LuckycoolHawk9 @Mighty Roman @Minerva @Cromartie Sarkissian @york @Kaykay​

 

[Cromartie Sarkissian]

"I...Uh...What is this place?"
Trunks let out a dull murder as the veil was lifted from his face, and he was finally able to come to his senses. This land, this...place, was far different to the afterlife his mentor had told him about... This place was cold, dark, filthy...

Everything he was used to

It was Hell


---

Darth Plagueis the Wise seemed to be unfazed by the fall, unflinching and unimpaired by the informal meeting with the ground.

Instead, he sat where he had landed, neither moving nor breathing

Only meditating

Preparing

Forming a council...a meeting between himself and the Dark Side

No technology- not formed by the living nor the dead- could sever the Muun's connection with the force- nothing. It would be akin to cutting the head from a rose stem; without one, the other would surely perish...and thus, one could be free of the other.

Some may call such a relationship symbiotic- formed on dependence as opposed to gain or conquest-- yet that was not the way the Sith viewed it; to Hego Damask, it was about predators and prey, controlling the wild beast of the Force and bending it to his will, and then bending its will to his own.

It was the natural order of things- The way things should be

He reached out through the force, calling to all those within the area...reading their hearts..their natures..body language. The brace on his right hand would dull his powers... he could not channel them through himself... the force was a fleeting force as it was...he had to gain control while he still could...remember his training...use his head...

Yes..there...there it is

A means to an end- a means to escape! I need not matter how, it need not matter where, or who or what he had sensed, but it was truly dark...and where there is darkness...there is power. This "Other Guy"...this "Browncoat" the woman had mentioned...he seemed manipulative...cunning...intimidating... and thus manipulate-able in himself. He was undoubtedly a materialistic man, someone driven by power as opposed to justice or self righteousness...all he had to do was make the right promise and all would be well..

Until then, it did not matter where he was- a prison, POW camp or a damn senators quatres- a Sith was never imprisoned... as long as the force existed...he was free


Hego Damask slowly contorted his neck towards the woman who stood before him, the muscles bending in a way many might deem to be...unnatural, staring into her soul with his empty, yellow eyes

"This "Other Guy"... Where is he?"

Plagueis had no intention on wasting any more time than he had to with this mysterious browncoat...

-----
Trunk's eyes fell towards his wrist, and the bracelet that now clung to it.

"9277467"

A number...A prison number. As if things could not have gotten any worse. He clenched his fist and bit hard of his lip- he had to get out, and fast-- his future...the future depended on it.

"There has to be some sort of mistake, miss..." He trailed off, trying to remember the correct introductions "My name is Trunks Briefs, and I'm no prisoner, and I dont know any "Tate" person..."

(Mobile Post)
​

 

[LuckycoolHawk9]

Lincoln sighed, as he woke up in yet another awkward situation. Why was he a magnet for terrorists and psychopaths? Why couldn't he just have a normal life and he looked over at the prison tag and read his number. 6278376463. Lincoln looked around and decided to ask. " So who else shares number 6278376463? I rather not find out if we are too far apart. I'm Lincoln Campbell for whoever you are," he said, sighing as he couldn't use his power, the void in him. That was really bad. He thankfully seemed to still have his pack of medical supplies.

@Cromartie Sarkissian

Lucifer Morningstar was used to this sort of thing. He had been arrested so many times that this felt like another Tuesday to him. " So whoever is prisoner 932766, please find me. I rather not go to the extra effort and also I will be staying right here for now," he added.

@york

 

[Minerva]

Darkness.

Corrin was used to the feeling. The feeling of waking up some place you weren't familiar with. She knew she had been kidnapped, she knew she wasn't back at home.

She looked around the room, among the sea of people around her. She looked for her sister Camilla, but couldn't find her.

"I have to find my sister." Corrin said, not finding her sister in the group. Finding Camilla was her only concern at the moment. They had been separated some time ago. That was all Corrin said as she realized she was free. She waved her hands in front of her to make sure she was truly free. She knew the Browncoats weren't bluffing. She straightened the sash/cape on her armor, and stepped forward. "Does... Anyone else have the number 744353?" She asked.

@CookieMonster


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The United States Military is often called the most powerful military in the history of the world, beating out even the Roman Legions. In the year 2015 alone, 598.5 Billion dollars were spent on the military. These went to training, supplies, technology, and other parts of the military. The troops are deployed all over the world, ready to mobilize at a moment's notice. 1,492,200 people ready to defend their country and their families. 1,492,200 people with the skills and equipment to kill.

Put this time and training into someone who was taught all their life to protect what they held dear. Find someone who is loyal to a fault, and train them. All that money into something that had trained themselves to kill, and teach them to kill further. Give them weapons capable of killing someone in untrained hands. Tell them to blend into society. Tell them to fight, train them to transfer their fierce loyalty to their nations.

You no longer have a soldier.

You have a weapon of mass destruction.

You have the Ultimate Soldier.

Mukuro wore her standard outfit. A dress shirt, a skirt, knee high socks, and shoes. A knife had been tucked into her sock, but they must have taken them off when they dragged her from wherever the hell she was. She had been a prisoner several times. Once, in a war camp in the Middle East, once a prisoner of her sister who used her loyalty against her, and finally now. She would get out of it somehow. But for now, she had to play along until she could find a way out.

At least there were no robot bears, and she was in her own clothes. This was already an upgrade from her previous prison.

She checked her armband, the number on it:

486837

She ran her finger over it. She put her wrist down.

"486837" She said, memorizing her number. "Is anyone else here 486837?" She said in her monotone voice. She held up her armband to show the number.

@Verite

 

[York]

​

Replies

Click.

Click.

Click.

The annual clacking of the tram was a dull torture to your ears as you descended deep into the earth like one of Jules Verne's characters in the Journey to the Center of the Earth. The cloth hood over your head obscured all sight save for the occasional flash that only served to further your general distortion. After what seemed an eternity, the moving platform stopped, leaving you to ponder your fate for a half a second until you feel a boot plant itself squarely in your back, shoving you into the endless void that you hadn't known was in front of you.

If you are a religious type that believes in the afterlife, you pray to your god. Or if you are the type that believes in only yourself and the physical universe, you collect your thoughts and wait for the end.

You fall.

And you land square on your face ten feet later. After picking yourself off from the dirt, you feel a hand roughly jerk the hood off your face. In front of you is a girl in her late twenties with a short bob of hair, one half of it died a dark blue. She wears a heavy brown duster, and has a concerningly large metal pipe slung over her shoulder. The look in her eyes warns you that messing with her will end badly. She is quickly joined by grizzled looking men and women, your hoods held firmly in their hands.

"Newbies eh? You feller's lucky I'm here for the meet and greet. I'm lot nicer than the other guy. He tends to take advantage of those things..." She gestured to the metallic band encircling your right wrist with a casual nod of the head. "...and send one a'two partners into enemy territory. Instant fiery place."

You suddenly notice that the magnetic attachments between the bands that were holding your arms behind your back disengage, with the left hand band falling off entirely. The right hand band remains fastened securely on you however.

"First rule of the Pit, you find your partner and stick with them like your goram life depends on it, cause I reckon it does 'less you can survive the something 'kin to a grenade going off in your hand. You'll know your partner from the six digit code scratched on into your bracer."

Spoiler

Tate – Trunks
9277467

Namanie - Casshern
79673

Corrin - Two
744353

Lucifer – Zara
932766

Lincoln - Damask
6278376463

Jenson - Mukuro
486837

Aeryn Olivia Crichton - Ludger Kresnik
94532273

"Other than that, I reckon it's best if you all explore for yourselves. I don't force people into joining the Browncoats, not like those frelling Pit Demons. Just a word of warning, stay outta the lower levels. Somethin dangerous lives down there." She turned to leave, the apparent Browncoats falling in behind her. Then she stopped, suddenly realizing she had forgotten something important. "By the way, if you're a genefreak, don't try and use your powers. Those cuffs'll blow."

The direction the Browncoats walked away in was decidedly bland, but appeared to be safe, and you might be able to get some more information about the pit. The opposite direction was much more interesting, with walls covered in horn markings and what appeared to be blood, but something about the air here seemed foreboding, dangerous. Both directions led into a vast collection of buildings and upper and lower levels that circled around them, the area where they had been kicked off the tram almost feeling like the center of an ancient arena as a result. Off to the side, a sharp sloping path led down to the lower levels, where the girl had explicitly warned them off of.

You could trail after the Browncoats, follow them into their territory.
You could head the opposite direction.
You could sit here and try and figure out another plan as a group.
You could go down.

@Verite @CookieMonster @LuckycoolHawk9 @Mighty Roman @Minerva @Cromartie Sarkissian @york @Kaykay​

Lucifer Morningstar was used to this sort of thing. He had been arrested so many times that this felt like another Tuesday to him. " So whoever is prisoner 932766, please find me. I rather not go to the extra effort and also I will be staying right here for now," he added.

@york

Kara In-Ze (Supergirl)
@LuckycoolHawk9 @Thuro 116 Pendragon

Where was she? ... Her hands were restrained, but that normally wouldn't have been a problem for Supergirl, though strangely enough... She didn't have the strength in her to just bust free like she usually would, and her hearing felt a little off too, but she definitely still had an edge in that aspect, she could hear the wheels on the subway train squealing across the tracks ever so quietly, even above the clacking sound they made as the train traveled across what appeared to be an underground subway, the distant echoes that resonated throughout the passageway gave it away. Perhaps she could work with her seemingly weakened powers? Regardless of this, eventually, she found herself in a room with many others, knowing very little about why she was here, or why she had a bomb on her right arm. Though it was tempting to try and see if she could heat vision her way through them, or use her x-ray vision to see if she could disarm it somehow, but apparantly any use of her powers could cause this thing to blow up.

Even if her strength was significantly hampered, the temptation still arose to test just how durable she was, but well... Would it really help at all of she blew herself up just from taking a risk like that? With a defeated sigh, she instead looked around for the other person marked with the numbers she had. All she had was a slightly enhanced hearing and vision range to work with; two distinct abilities that she couldn't exactly just "turn off" with a snap of her fingers. Wherever she was, either the lack of sunlight, or the weird sun had severely handicapped her, but it still didn't take her too long to find her partner. Turning to the strange man, she decided to jumpstart their conversation with a question.

"So, who are you supposed to be?" She asked him.

Despite her efforts, she still couldn't exactly stop herself from sounding a little exasperated... The fact that she could barely use any of her powers nor abilities probably had a huge part to play in this.​

 

[Cromartie Sarkissian]

Lincoln sighed, as he woke up in yet another awkward situation. Why was he a magnet for terrorists and psychopaths? Why couldn't he just have a normal life and he looked over at the prison tag and read his number. 6278376463. Lincoln looked around and decided to ask. " So who else shares number 6278376463? I rather not find out if we are too far apart. I'm Lincoln Campbell for whoever you are," he said, sighing as he couldn't use his power, the void in him. That was really bad. He thankfully seemed to still have his pack of medical supplies.

@Cromartie Sarkissian

Damask made a slow turn towards the boy, staring him down piece by piece. He was young, well kept...and shared the same prison number as him; finding an ally in Lincoln did not seem to be a difficult task
"Hello, my boy..." Hego muttered, forming the ever useful facade of a lost and vulnerable Muun. He raised his right wrist to the side of his face, revealing the number of his band "It appears that I too am 6278376463" The wrist sunk down wards and outstretched itself for shaking "My name is Hego Damask II...I am a banker and founder of Damask holdings...and I do believe you are correct" He made a small, forced bow with his neck "I will follow your lead..."

 

[Thuro 116 Pendragon]

"Jennifer Tate, present and accounted for." The dark haired girl said in response to Trunk's assertion that he didn't know anyone by that name. She was surprisingly perky for a girl that just been sent free falling straight into the densely compacted dirt. She squinted into the hellish light of the Pit as the hood was ripped harshly off her head, wondering just how hard she'd partied the night before. That one foster family had always said her lifestyle would lead her straight to hell. Shoulda listened.

Her luscious mane of hair flowed like a river down the back of her neck, coming to rest just between her shoulder blades, freed from it's usual prison of twin braids at the back of her head.
She wore a tight fitting red shirt and even tighter fitting leather pants, the space between the two showing a thin band of her stomach, though the long since forgotten intent of looking sexy was compromised by the fact that she wore a large leather trenchcoat not too entirely dissimilar to the girl in front of her's titular Browncoat.

Well, that was easy, finding her partner. She turned to the blue haired man beside her, looking him up and down. He had a lean, muscled physique and the faraway stare that soldiers sometimes got when they came back from war.
Good, she hadn't got stuck with an accountant like the other guy over there. That meant she had a fighting chance in this hellhole.

She extended her hand, it clanking noisily against her vambraces. A small smirk touched upon her lips at the thought of the guards trying in vain to yank off the permanently affixed bracers that ran up and down her arms. Still, the explosive cuff hurt a little when she moved her hand, it being too small for both her hand and vambrace combined.

"Name's Tate, Jen Tate. Take it you can't remember being grabbed either?"


~~~~

Bea's eyes flicked between Tate and Trunks, one you could call calculating, but more accurately considering. Then a particularly rueful smile touched her lips for the briefest of moments, a light remembrance showing on her face before being washed away by the stony expression she normally wore.

"You two are going to either love or hate each other. A fair bit of both I reckon."

When Damask asked his question, the blue haired girl just tilted her head behind him. "I reckon he's in the special hell, the fieriest part of the Pit. He's a tactical genius, kill a half dozen men unarmed and couple dozen more with a armed."

"Kinda sounds like you admire the guy." Jen interrupted imperiously, even though it wasn't probably a good idea to antagonize the girl that was supposedly saving their butts from the bogeyman.

A look of regret passed over her face, lingered there. "Maybe once upon a time. Feels like a long damn time ago though."

"Point is, not someone you wanna tangle with. I only kept my Browncoats up an running all this time by dealing a few of his own tricks back at him. That and the lunatic's help. Maybe with the extra influx of newbies can finally put a stop to all this. But a'think I'm getting a little ahead of myself there."

@Cromartie Sarkissian​

 

[Kaykay]

Blinded and falling. Was this how life was going to end? So early? She'd never even gotten to...to...uh...hm. No, actually, she had no aspirations, or anything she really wanted to do. The young girl accepted her fa-

thump

Oh, that wasn't so bad. Guess it wasn't her time to go after all. Namanie Nienami wore a blank look as the hood was taken off and the group was given a talking to. Could she survive a grenade in her hand? Who knew, she'd never tried it. Maybe she should try it?

Nah, sounded painful.

With nothing better to do, she checked her band. 79673. It would have been more convenient if the name had been written on instead of numbers, wouldn't it? Well, what was done was done. Namanie began to wander around to find her determined partner, whoever they might be. Then they could decide for her what they'd do. She couldn't really decide either way.

"7...9...6...7...3..."

@Verite @Thuro 116 Pendragon​

 

[Verite]

If you want to make enemies...

... Try to change something.

You make an enemy out of other people who would oppose you for threatening to change the status quo, for threatening to change the world as it is. When you go far enough, they could accuse you of playing God. Like trying to transcend humanity.

When you go that far to transcend who you are, what you are, you'd better be prepared to come into conflict with people who would oppose your way of thinking. They have the right to believe what they believe. After all, you have the potential to change the world. And many people out there would rather have the world remain as it is to preserve the natural law of things.

That was exactly the scenario that had been put into the place of the world when Adam Jensen was around.

It was a time of great innovation. Great progress. But the thing about being human is that no matter how hard you tried to escape, transcend, deny what you are, you were still human at the core, for better and for worse. No matter how much change that the dawn of physical augmentations had brought to the human body, the soul was something that could never change.

And as it remained the same, the human soul spurred people to do as people always did throughout history; wage war, fight with one another, kill each other over different beliefs, the like.

If you try to change something, something as deeply rooted as human nature, then you'd better be prepared to make enemies.

And Adam Jensen was prepared for that. Even despite seeing the worst of humanity at every turn, he kept fighting because he knew that out there, there was the best of humanity waiting to shine, but was cowering in fear of the worst's wrath. He had to fight to achieve that belief.

Even if the ideal he sought after, even if what he had hoped to find at the end of his bloody path, turned out to be nothing.

With a low grunt, Jensen would shake his head gently, before taking note of his surroundings. His built-in radar wasn't working. That was a good sign. Was totally going to make everything easier.

In that case then, it was time to actually think for himself again. Taking note of the armbrand, Adam read over the numbers silently in his head, and just as he did, a young Asian girl, likely Japanese (because she looked a little different from the Chinese that he'd encountered in old Hengsha) or so, would call out for anyone who had the very number that he sported. Grunting again, Jensen approached Mukuro, lightly scratching the back of his head.

"Reporting for duty," Jensen spoke drolly, though it was hard to tell behind his almost monotone expression, showing off the armband to confirm the number.

As he talked, he examined Mukuro's features to get a feel for what kind of person she was. His social enhancer augmentation was acting up at the moment, so he'd have to make his own judgments. This girl was an enigma though. If normal people were like open books, she was like a book inside a book. He could deduce from her expression, one that he found uncomfortably familiar, that she had been through much in her life, but... she was just a kid. Likely half his age if he wanted to be honest.

And yet, there was something about her. Something that illustrated that there was more to her than met the eye, that is, more than simply the eye alone could deduce.

But everything should be fine, right?

Most of the people who ever wanted to shoot him would have already tried to at this point.

@Minerva

---

Alone.

That was what he always was.

Cursed to be always alone no matter what.

It was for the good of those around him. He could only ever hurt others. That was why he couldn't let Sophita tag along. Why Ringo could never follow where he walked. It wasn't that he wanted to be like this, but it was the cold truth. It was in his past, in his body. Yet, for someone who had a nickname like the God of Death, he valued life rather vigorously. A pacifist who could level an island if he so desired. The giant with a heart that exceeded that of his power.

He became a roamer to distance himself from others, only so that he would let them be with him once he changed his destiny.

Once he proved that one such as him, who had once inflicted so much death and suffering, could protect the sacred existence of life.

While he stumbled many times, failing those closest to him, little did he know that fate would give him another chance so quickly.

"I believe that is my code as well," Casshern abruptly said, suddenly appearing beside Namanie and raising his arm to show off the band, looking over at her with a passive expression.

"The man said we are meant to be... partners. But what exactly for, I wonder... Might you have any idea who these Browncoats that man spoke of are?" He inquired, failing to even introduce himself properly.

@Kaykay​

 

[Cromartie Sarkissian]

View attachment 116040

"Jennifer Tate, present and accounted for." The dark haired girl said in response to Trunk's assertion that he didn't know anyone by that name. She was surprisingly perky for a girl that just been sent free falling straight into the densely compacted dirt. She squinted into the hellish light of the Pit as the hood was ripped harshly off her head, wondering just how hard she'd partied the night before. That one foster family had always said her lifestyle would lead her straight to hell. Shoulda listened.

Her luscious mane of hair flowed like a river down the back of her neck, coming to rest just between her shoulder blades, freed from it's usual prison of twin braids at the back of her head.
She wore a tight fitting red shirt and even tighter fitting leather pants, the space between the two showing a thin band of her stomach, though the long since forgotten intent of looking sexy was compromised by the fact that she wore a large leather trenchcoat not too entirely dissimilar to the girl in front of her's titular Browncoat.

Well, that was easy, finding her partner. She turned to the blue haired man beside her, looking him up and down. He had a lean, muscled physique and the faraway stare that soldiers sometimes got when they came back from war.
Good, she hadn't got stuck with an accountant like the other guy over there. That meant she had a fighting chance in this hellhole.

She extended her hand, it clanking noisily against her vambraces. A small smirk touched upon her lips at the thought of the guards trying in vain to yank off the permanently affixed bracers that ran up and down her arms. Still, the explosive cuff hurt a little when she moved her hand, it being too small for both her hand and vambrace combined.

"Name's Tate, Jen Tate. Take it you can't remember being grabbed either?"


~~~~

Bea's eyes flicked between Tate and Trunks, one you could call calculating, but more accurately considering. Then a particularly rueful smile touched her lips for the briefest of moments, a light remembrance showing on her face before being washed away by the stony expression she normally wore.

"You two are going to either love or hate each other. A fair bit of both I reckon."

​

"No...it's all just a blur really..."
Trunks pulled his gaze away from the Jennifer, and back to the floor. She was beautiful- there was no denying that- but like him, she had seen things- she carried both kinds of scars. The browncoat was right- they were too similar to stay out of eachother's way
"This does not make any sense to me...I can access my ki with this thing on" He brought his power dampener up to hi brow, observing every tiny feature. It was nothing like he had seen before- nothing form Capsule Corp or Space...
"For now, we need to focus on the 'now' rather than the 'how'! And hopefully the 'now' involved us getting these bracelets off..."​

View attachment 116040

"Jennifer Tate, present and accounted for." The dark haired girl said in response to Trunk's assertion that he didn't know anyone by that name. She was surprisingly perky for a girl that just been sent free falling straight into the densely compacted dirt. She squinted into the hellish light of the Pit as the hood was ripped harshly off her head, wondering just how hard she'd partied the night before. That one foster family had always said her lifestyle would lead her straight to hell. Shoulda listened.

Her luscious mane of hair flowed like a river down the back of her neck, coming to rest just between her shoulder blades, freed from it's usual prison of twin braids at the back of her head.
She wore a tight fitting red shirt and even tighter fitting leather pants, the space between the two showing a thin band of her stomach, though the long since forgotten intent of looking sexy was compromised by the fact that she wore a large leather trenchcoat not too entirely dissimilar to the girl in front of her's titular Browncoat.

Well, that was easy, finding her partner. She turned to the blue haired man beside her, looking him up and down. He had a lean, muscled physique and the faraway stare that soldiers sometimes got when they came back from war.
Good, she hadn't got stuck with an accountant like the other guy over there. That meant she had a fighting chance in this hellhole.

She extended her hand, it clanking noisily against her vambraces. A small smirk touched upon her lips at the thought of the guards trying in vain to yank off the permanently affixed bracers that ran up and down her arms. Still, the explosive cuff hurt a little when she moved her hand, it being too small for both her hand and vambrace combined.

"Name's Tate, Jen Tate. Take it you can't remember being grabbed either?"


~~~~

Bea's eyes flicked between Tate and Trunks, one you could call calculating, but more accurately considering. Then a particularly rueful smile touched her lips for the briefest of moments, a light remembrance showing on her face before being washed away by the stony expression she normally wore.

"You two are going to either love or hate each other. A fair bit of both I reckon."

When Damask asked his question, the blue haired girl just tilted her head behind him. "I reckon he's in the special hell, the fieriest part of the Pit. He's a tactical genius, kill a half dozen men unarmed and couple dozen more with a armed."

"Kinda sounds like you admire the guy." Jen interrupted imperiously, even though it wasn't probably a good idea to antagonize the girl that was supposedly saving their butts from the bogeyman.

A look of regret passed over her face, lingered there. "Maybe once upon a time. Feels like a long damn time ago though."

"Point is, not someone you wanna tangle with. I only kept my Browncoats up an running all this time by dealing a few of his own tricks back at him. That and the lunatic's help. Maybe with the extra influx of newbies can finally put a stop to all this. But a'think I'm getting a little ahead of myself there."

@Cromartie Sarkissian​

Armed? Unarmed? Such words meant nothing to a Sith. True power, true weaponry, came from within, and armory of hatred and drive and desire...the very swords and shields that would never shatter and could never be pillaged

A civil seemed to be erupting in the Pit, two opposing factions entwined in bitter warfare. One thread was lead by a ruthless leader, willing to do whatever it took to succeed- to continue existing. The other was too wrapped up in self riotousness to lead her troops to victory- a poison that had infected the entire galaxy, it seemed...

Yet, self morality can be changed, and the self righteous can find their compasses pointing in the wrong direction, given the right motivation... and manipulating. With the right words, Plagueis could transform the Browncoats into a weapon he could aim and fire at will... one that he could use to tear down this fortress brick by brick...

"He sounds vile" Pity clung to his words, as if he was trying to calm a tormented child "Whatever I am able to do, I shall do-- you are not getting a head of yourself, you are simply looking forwards...expressing vision"
@LuckycoolHawk9
​

 

[Kaykay]

If you want to make enemies...

... Try to change something.

You make an enemy out of other people who would oppose you for threatening to change the status quo, for threatening to change the world as it is. When you go far enough, they could accuse you of playing God. Like trying to transcend humanity.

When you go that far to transcend who you are, what you are, you'd better be prepared to come into conflict with people who would oppose your way of thinking. They have the right to believe what they believe. After all, you have the potential to change the world. And many people out there would rather have the world remain as it is to preserve the natural law of things.

That was exactly the scenario that had been put into the place of the world when Adam Jensen was around.

It was a time of great innovation. Great progress. But the thing about being human is that no matter how hard you tried to escape, transcend, deny what you are, you were still human at the core, for better and for worse. No matter how much change that the dawn of physical augmentations had brought to the human body, the soul was something that could never change.

And as it remained the same, the human soul spurred people to do as people always did throughout history; wage war, fight with one another, kill each other over different beliefs, the like.

If you try to change something, something as deeply rooted as human nature, then you'd better be prepared to make enemies.

And Adam Jensen was prepared for that. Even despite seeing the worst of humanity at every turn, he kept fighting because he knew that out there, there was the best of humanity waiting to shine, but was cowering in fear of the worst's wrath. He had to fight to achieve that belief.

Even if the ideal he sought after, even if what he had hoped to find at the end of his bloody path, turned out to be nothing.

With a low grunt, Jensen would shake his head gently, before taking note of his surroundings. His built-in radar wasn't working. That was a good sign. Was totally going to make everything easier.

In that case then, it was time to actually think for himself again. Taking note of the armbrand, Adam read over the numbers silently in his head, and just as he did, a young Asian girl, likely Japanese (because she looked a little different from the Chinese that he'd encountered in old Hengsha) or so, would call out for anyone who had the very number that he sported. Grunting again, Jensen approached Mukuro, lightly scratching the back of his head.

"Reporting for duty," Jensen spoke drolly, though it was hard to tell behind his almost monotone expression, showing off the armband to confirm the number.

As he talked, he examined Mukuro's features to get a feel for what kind of person she was. His social enhancer augmentation was acting up at the moment, so he'd have to make his own judgments. This girl was an enigma though. If normal people were like open books, she was like a book inside a book. He could deduce from her expression, one that he found uncomfortably familiar, that she had been through much in her life, but... she was just a kid. Likely half his age if he wanted to be honest.

And yet, there was something about her. Something that illustrated that there was more to her than met the eye, that is, more than simply the eye alone could deduce.

But everything should be fine, right?

Most of the people who ever wanted to shoot him would have already tried to at this point.

@Minerva

---

Alone.

That was what he always was.

Cursed to be always alone no matter what.

It was for the good of those around him. He could only ever hurt others. That was why he couldn't let Sophita tag along. Why Ringo could never follow where he walked. It wasn't that he wanted to be like this, but it was the cold truth. It was in his past, in his body. Yet, for someone who had a nickname like the God of Death, he valued life rather vigorously. A pacifist who could level an island if he so desired. The giant with a heart that exceeded that of his power.

He became a roamer to distance himself from others, only so that he would let them be with him once he changed his destiny.

Once he proved that one such as him, who had once inflicted so much death and suffering, could protect the sacred existence of life.

While he stumbled many times, failing those closest to him, little did he know that fate would give him another chance so quickly.

"I believe that is my code as well," Casshern abruptly said, suddenly appearing beside Namanie and raising his arm to show off the band, looking over at her with a passive expression.

"The man said we are meant to be... partners. But what exactly for, I wonder... Might you have any idea who these Browncoats that man spoke of are?" He inquired, failing to even introduce himself properly.

@Kaykay​

Namanie turned to face the man who'd suddenly appeared. So this gloomy looking guy was her partner, huh? Probably a good match, if they were just placing similar people together and not trying to cover up for weaknesses or something. Not that she'd complain about that kind of thing, it all worked out the same for her.

"No clue," she replied, shaking her head. He hadn't introduced himself, so she didn't really feel the need to do so either. Second person pronouns would have to suffice for now.

Actually, that'd be really difficult to work with, wouldn't it? She should probably do it anyway.

...

No, now that she'd waited, it'd been too long and now it would just be awkward to throw out an introduction. Yup, second person pronouns would do.

"You wanna find them and figure it out? The other way looks funny anyway."

@Verite​

 

[CookieMonster]

Landing on her feet like a cat, the raven-haired woman rose to her feet, rolling her shoulders back. An audible 'Pop' could be heard, most likely Two setting her shoulder back into place. Two's eyes closed for a moment as she let out a sigh. Where was she now? She thought back, trying to figure out the series of events that had led up to this.. but nothing came to mind. Casting a wary look around, two made a mental note of the others around her before she raised her right arm, looking down at the magnetic band and memorizing her number. Hearing a woman's voice call out that very same number, she pushed past people and advanced towards the girl. "That's my number. Do you know what's going on here? I can't seem to remember anything before waking up here. At least, nothing that would indicate where we are or what's going on. On another note, that would seem to be the point.."

 

[Thuro 116 Pendragon]

"He sounds vile" Pity clung to his words, as if he was trying to calm a tormented child "Whatever I am able to do, I shall do-- you are not getting a head of yourself, you are simply looking forwards...expressing vision"

"Vision. Right." Bea nodded cynically. This guy, he was either an idiot or a sycophant. Didn't really matter which she supposed, she was stuck with a useless banker either way. She really had to get out of the habit of helping the strays she ran across. "It sounds like most of you already met your life partners, so let's get a move on. We don't want to be here when he shows up." She turned away to leave again, when something occurred to her. Turning around once more, she silently counted them, twelve, thirteen, fourteen.
"You're them," She declared, seemingly very randomly to Jen. But then, this entire thing was fairly random to her. The last thing she remembered was returning from the Nexus back home, and them boom, Prisoner Six.

"Jack's going to want to see you." Bea declared, then she dismissed her guards before starting down the path that she had warned the others off of earlier. Stopping near the top of the thing, she turned to look at the group. "Once you start down the rabbit hole, there's no going back." She said sagely, unaware that she'd just quoted the Matrix.

The path was long and winding, and it got hotter and hotter as they went down. If they had been in the Fiery Pit before, then now they felt like Dante descending into the final circles of hell itself.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, they came to a stop at the very bottom of the path where it winded out into, unsurprisingly, a circular platform. At the center of that platform a man and a woman stood talking. The woman was purple haired and well endowed, sporting a once fine dress that she'd had to change into before being captured due to the guards not allowing armor when they dropped you into the Pit, and the other man was handsome if somewhat aged, looking to be in his very late forties. He wore leather pants and a black T-Shirt, his leather trenchcoat having been laid nearby to deal with the heat. Oh, and he was crippled in his right leg, most of his weight being supported by a brace wrapped around said leg.

He turned and flashed a devilish grin at the group, and proudly declared, "You're late."

As Jennifer took her first look upon the cripple that stood before, something loosened itself in her mind. Five years worth of memories broke through the thin veils that had been set within her. Five years. Losing Earth, finding John, Kerry and the others. Running. Running. Running. Finally taking a stand and defending their new home. The Pact's first Team.

She staggered backwards, the force of memories flowing back where they belonged making her stagger. She was Jennifer Tate, the Planeswalker, the defender of worlds. Leader of what amounted to the only stand against the darkness of the Overseer for as long as the history of the universe. And within that crown of memories, there were six others. John…. Jack, he didn't have the same grim air as the other man, he was of them. Slowly, she embraced him, the surprise of which etched itself on his face.

To the left of him, the purple haired girl gave Jen a sour look but she ignored it. After a moment, she released Jack and stepped back, aware that the others were more than likely looking at her like she was crazy. Jack was giving her the same look, but for completely different reasons.

"Amnestics?" He asked.

She gave a small nod of her head, still slightly overwhelmed by the newness of her old memories.

"You really let those creepy assholes poke around in your head?" He said with a surprising amount of vigor, none of it, well, mostly none of it aimed at her.

She crossed her arms, her defiant nature quickly overcoming the shock of the purposefully induced amnesia wearing off. "They're definitely creepy, but they're not all assholes."

He shook his head in silent disagreement while she turned around. It was time to bring her Team back to life. She turned back to the group that had followed her down, Trunks, her partner during the training program, his cool experience as a warrior offsetting her own brashness. Lucifer and Zara, so incredibly strong, the only two that could keep up with each other. Lincoln and Damask, the only two able to unleash the full extent of their powers near each other without harming each other. Namanie and Casshern, both a little dead inside. Jenson and Mukuro, the investigator and the soldier, giving strength where the other had weakness. And finally Two and Corrin, the pair that Jen had seen the least of. All she knew was that Corrin had signed on after Jack and the others had turned themselves in.

These were for better or worse (probably worse), her family away from home.

She spoke two words,

"Scutum cras."

It was latin for Shield of Tomorrow. It was the keyword that would wipe clear the fog that hung over their memories like a heavy rain. The months that they had trained together, the friendships they had built, the truth of who they had become, it would all come back to them.

"You are the Shield of Tomorrow." Jen said gently, "Now remember."

@Verite @CookieMonster @LuckycoolHawk9 @Mighty Roman @Minerva @Cromartie Sarkissian @york @Kaykay​

 

[LuckycoolHawk9]

"So, who are you supposed to be?" She asked him.

Despite her efforts, she still couldn't exactly stop herself from sounding a little exasperated... The fact that she could barely use any of her powers nor abilities probably had a huge part to play in this.
​

Lucifer smiled as he looked at her. " My dear, I'm Lucifer Morningstar, the Devil," he said, answering her question very briefly to her without looking away.​

Damask made a slow turn towards the boy, staring him down piece by piece. He was young, well kept...and shared the same prison number as him; finding an ally in Lincoln did not seem to be a difficult task
"Hello, my boy..." Hego muttered, forming the ever useful facade of a lost and vulnerable Muun. He raised his right wrist to the side of his face, revealing the number of his band "It appears that I too am 6278376463" The wrist sunk down wards and outstretched itself for shaking "My name is Hego Damask II...I am a banker and founder of Damask holdings...and I do believe you are correct" He made a small, forced bow with his neck "I will follow your lead..."

" I guess that we should either stay here or- I don't know, but whatever this is, I am sure that we will figure it out as a group," he said to her.

"Vision. Right." Bea nodded cynically. This guy, he was either an idiot or a sycophant. Didn't really matter which she supposed, she was stuck with a useless banker either way. She really had to get out of the habit of helping the strays she ran across. "It sounds like most of you already met your life partners, so let's get a move on. We don't want to be here when he shows up." She turned away to leave again, when something occurred to her. Turning around once more, she silently counted them, twelve, thirteen, fourteen.
"You're them," She declared, seemingly very randomly to Jen. But then, this entire thing was fairly random to her. The last thing she remembered was returning from the Nexus back home, and them boom, Prisoner Six.

"Jack's going to want to see you." Bea declared, then she dismissed her guards before starting down the path that she had warned the others off of earlier. Stopping near the top of the thing, she turned to look at the group. "Once you start down the rabbit hole, there's no going back." She said sagely, unaware that she'd just quoted the Matrix.

The path was long and winding, and it got hotter and hotter as they went down. If they had been in the Fiery Pit before, then now they felt like Dante descending into the final circles of hell itself.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, they came to a stop at the very bottom of the path where it winded out into, unsurprisingly, a circular platform. At the center of that platform a man and a woman stood talking. The woman was purple haired and well endowed, sporting a once fine dress that she'd had to change into before being captured due to the guards not allowing armor when they dropped you into the Pit, and the other man was handsome if somewhat aged, looking to be in his very late forties. He wore leather pants and a black T-Shirt, his leather trenchcoat having been laid nearby to deal with the heat. Oh, and he was crippled in his right leg, most of his weight being supported by a brace wrapped around said leg.

He turned and flashed a devilish grin at the group, and proudly declared, "You're late."

As Jennifer took her first look upon the cripple that stood before, something loosened itself in her mind. Five years worth of memories broke through the thin veils that had been set within her. Five years. Losing Earth, finding John, Kerry and the others. Running. Running. Running. Finally taking a stand and defending their new home. The Pact's first Team.

She staggered backwards, the force of memories flowing back where they belonged making her stagger. She was Jennifer Tate, the Planeswalker, the defender of worlds. Leader of what amounted to the only stand against the darkness of the Overseer for as long as the history of the universe. And within that crown of memories, there were six others. John…. Jack, he didn't have the same grim air as the other man, he was of them. Slowly, she embraced him, the surprise of which etched itself on his face.

To the left of him, the purple haired girl gave Jen a sour look but she ignored it. After a moment, she released Jack and stepped back, aware that the others were more than likely looking at her like she was crazy. Jack was giving her the same look, but for completely different reasons.

"Amnestics?" He asked.

She gave a small nod of her head, still slightly overwhelmed by the newness of her old memories.

"You really let those creepy assholes poke around in your head?" He said with a surprising amount of vigor, none of it, well, mostly none of it aimed at her.

She crossed her arms, her defiant nature quickly overcoming the shock of the purposefully induced amnesia wearing off. "They're definitely creepy, but they're not all assholes."

He shook his head in silent disagreement while she turned around. It was time to bring her Team back to life. She turned back to the group that had followed her down, Trunks, her partner during the training program, his cool experience as a warrior offsetting her own brashness. Lucifer and Zara, so incredibly strong, the only two that could keep up with each other. Lincoln and Damask, the only two able to unleash the full extent of their powers near each other without harming each other. Namanie and Casshern, both a little dead inside. Jenson and Mukuro, the investigator and the soldier, giving strength where the other had weakness. And finally Two and Corrin, the pair that Jen had seen the least of. All she knew was that Corrin had signed on after Jack and the others had turned themselves in.

These were for better or worse (probably worse), her family away from home.

She spoke two words,

"Scutum cras."

It was latin for Shield of Tomorrow. It was the keyword that would wipe clear the fog that hung over their memories like a heavy rain. The months that they had trained together, the friendships they had built, the truth of who they had become, it would all come back to them.

"You are the Shield of Tomorrow." Jen said gently, "Now remember."

Lucifer followed deeper, not sure what had caused him the memory loss. He felt like he was forgetting something or someone important to him. He just couldn't place his finger on it. He remembered Decker and all of her annoying associates and Maize, but there was another, well two. He was sure that if it was important, he would remember these men, perhaps they were lost lovers or something. It wasn't like the Devil was strictly heterosexual all the time. Even with the overwhelming memories coming back, he couldn't remember.

Lincoln looked over at Dasmask and he wasn't sure what to say when someone uttered two words. He felt an overwhelming bit of things... hopefully, it would be over soon.

@Verite @CookieMonster @Thuro 116 Pendragon @Mighty Roman @Minerva @Cromartie Sarkissian @york @Kaykay

 

[York]

"Vision. Right." Bea nodded cynically. This guy, he was either an idiot or a sycophant. Didn't really matter which she supposed, she was stuck with a useless banker either way. She really had to get out of the habit of helping the strays she ran across. "It sounds like most of you already met your life partners, so let's get a move on. We don't want to be here when he shows up." She turned away to leave again, when something occurred to her. Turning around once more, she silently counted them, twelve, thirteen, fourteen.
"You're them," She declared, seemingly very randomly to Jen. But then, this entire thing was fairly random to her. The last thing she remembered was returning from the Nexus back home, and them boom, Prisoner Six.

"Jack's going to want to see you." Bea declared, then she dismissed her guards before starting down the path that she had warned the others off of earlier. Stopping near the top of the thing, she turned to look at the group. "Once you start down the rabbit hole, there's no going back." She said sagely, unaware that she'd just quoted the Matrix.

The path was long and winding, and it got hotter and hotter as they went down. If they had been in the Fiery Pit before, then now they felt like Dante descending into the final circles of hell itself.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, they came to a stop at the very bottom of the path where it winded out into, unsurprisingly, a circular platform. At the center of that platform a man and a woman stood talking. The woman was purple haired and well endowed, sporting a once fine dress that she'd had to change into before being captured due to the guards not allowing armor when they dropped you into the Pit, and the other man was handsome if somewhat aged, looking to be in his very late forties. He wore leather pants and a black T-Shirt, his leather trenchcoat having been laid nearby to deal with the heat. Oh, and he was crippled in his right leg, most of his weight being supported by a brace wrapped around said leg.

He turned and flashed a devilish grin at the group, and proudly declared, "You're late."

As Jennifer took her first look upon the cripple that stood before, something loosened itself in her mind. Five years worth of memories broke through the thin veils that had been set within her. Five years. Losing Earth, finding John, Kerry and the others. Running. Running. Running. Finally taking a stand and defending their new home. The Pact's first Team.

She staggered backwards, the force of memories flowing back where they belonged making her stagger. She was Jennifer Tate, the Planeswalker, the defender of worlds. Leader of what amounted to the only stand against the darkness of the Overseer for as long as the history of the universe. And within that crown of memories, there were six others. John…. Jack, he didn't have the same grim air as the other man, he was of them. Slowly, she embraced him, the surprise of which etched itself on his face.

To the left of him, the purple haired girl gave Jen a sour look but she ignored it. After a moment, she released Jack and stepped back, aware that the others were more than likely looking at her like she was crazy. Jack was giving her the same look, but for completely different reasons.

"Amnestics?" He asked.

She gave a small nod of her head, still slightly overwhelmed by the newness of her old memories.

"You really let those creepy assholes poke around in your head?" He said with a surprising amount of vigor, none of it, well, mostly none of it aimed at her.

She crossed her arms, her defiant nature quickly overcoming the shock of the purposefully induced amnesia wearing off. "They're definitely creepy, but they're not all assholes."

He shook his head in silent disagreement while she turned around. It was time to bring her Team back to life. She turned back to the group that had followed her down, Trunks, her partner during the training program, his cool experience as a warrior offsetting her own brashness. Lucifer and Zara, so incredibly strong, the only two that could keep up with each other. Lincoln and Damask, the only two able to unleash the full extent of their powers near each other without harming each other. Namanie and Casshern, both a little dead inside. Jenson and Mukuro, the investigator and the soldier, giving strength where the other had weakness. And finally Two and Corrin, the pair that Jen had seen the least of. All she knew was that Corrin had signed on after Jack and the others had turned themselves in.

These were for better or worse (probably worse), her family away from home.

She spoke two words,

"Scutum cras."

It was latin for Shield of Tomorrow. It was the keyword that would wipe clear the fog that hung over their memories like a heavy rain. The months that they had trained together, the friendships they had built, the truth of who they had become, it would all come back to them.

"You are the Shield of Tomorrow." Jen said gently, "Now remember."

@Verite @CookieMonster @LuckycoolHawk9 @Mighty Roman @Minerva @Cromartie Sarkissian @york @Kaykay​

Lucifer smiled as he looked at her. " My dear, I'm Lucifer Morningstar, the Devil," he said, answering her question very briefly to her without looking away.​

" I guess that we should either stay here or- I don't know, but whatever this is, I am sure that we will figure it out as a group," he said to her.

Lucifer followed deeper, not sure what had caused him the memory loss. He felt like he was forgetting something or someone important to him. He just couldn't place his finger on it. He remembered Decker and all of her annoying associates and Maize, but there was another, well two. He was sure that if it was important, he would remember these men, perhaps they were lost lovers or something. It wasn't like the Devil was strictly heterosexual all the time. Even with the overwhelming memories coming back, he couldn't remember.

Lincoln looked over at Dasmask and he wasn't sure what to say when someone uttered two words. He felt an overwhelming bit of things... hopefully, it would be over soon.

@Verite @CookieMonster @Thuro 116 Pendragon @Mighty Roman @Minerva @Cromartie Sarkissian @york @Kaykay

Kara In-Ze (Supergirl)
@Verite @CookieMonster @Thuro 116 Pendragon @Mighty Roman @Minerva @Cromartie Sarkissian @LuckycoolHawk9 @Kaykay

Looks like conversation would be easier than she had thought! At least this was a plus, even if she didn't really recognize her surroundings... After all, she would get pretty bored rather quickly if her partner wasn't one for much conversation.

"Kara, In-Ze... But you can call me Supergirl." She said, beaming at him as she spoke.

It was clear that she was pleased about their partnership (well, minus the exploding wristband part), and for well, being able to converse to some degree, though this still didn't stop her from wondering about this place. Even more so as they were lead deeper into an once restricted area, upon being discovered to be "the ones", though what was meant by that was only revealed later. They were, the "Shield of Tomorrow"... ... What was this? Some sort of Suicide Squad or something? That didn't seem right... And before she could come up with any more crazy theories like that, she decided to ask, looking just a bit suspicious about their whole situation.

"Soo... What does that mean? The Shield of Justice thing?" She asked suddenly.


​

 

[LuckycoolHawk9]

Looks like conversation would be easier than she had thought! At least this was a plus, even if she didn't really recognize her surroundings... After all, she would get pretty bored rather quickly if her partner wasn't one for much conversation.

"Kara, In-Ze... But you can call me Supergirl." She said, beaming at him as she spoke.

It was clear that she was pleased about their partnership (well, minus the exploding wristband part), and for well, being able to converse to some degree, though this still didn't stop her from wondering about this place. Even more so as they were lead deeper into an once restricted area, upon being discovered to be "the ones", though what was meant by that was only revealed later. They were, the "Shield of Tomorrow"... ... What was this? Some sort of Suicide Squad or something? That didn't seem right... And before she could come up with any more crazy theories like that, she decided to ask, looking just a bit suspicious about their whole situation.

"Soo... What does that mean? The Shield of Justice thing?" She asked suddenly.

Lucifer was happy that she was happy to be conversing with him. He found nothing more boring than a person who wouldn't talk with him- or for that matter, thought they were above him, that was even worse than the previous thing he had mentioned.


" Kara, Supergirl it is though. You may call me Lucifer, it's what I prefer," he said to her.


Lucifer looked over at her and was happy that she seemed to be pleased with him for the moment and that was good. He still didn't understand why they had been chained together, but he wasn't about to question it too much for now. There was a ton of things that could be worse and one of them was dealing with the problems back home. He wasn't too keen on finding his mother who escaped Hell at all. He looked at the ground and wondered what there was to say now. He did know what this Shield of Tomorrow was supposed to be and he wasn't sure he was going to like it. Where they the reason that all of them had been captured or something else entirely? The memories were foggy, but it did make him grin.

" I believe that Supergirl took the words right out of my mouth," he said to the other woman.

@Verite @CookieMonster @Thuro 116 Pendragon @Mighty Roman @Minerva @Cromartie Sarkissian @york @Kaykay

 

[Mighty Roman]

Äch, exhaled David Haller. He rubbed his hands up his ridiculously pointy, yet somehow non-gelled hair. He had really been enjoying his whole peaceful non-existence, but some multiversal idiot had awoken him from that and dragged him into this timeline. Pesky mutants. From what he could tell, he was 'paired' with this Aeryn lady.
Ä'right lass, I'm David Haller. Some folks used to call me legion, so I called ém an Ambulance. Basically don't mention that or me dear old Dad an'we should be fine, aye?

He offered out his hand in a handshake, but he was clearly distracted. He shook his head, and blinked a couple of times, as if he had some kind of headache.

Spoiler

"That's odd-all quiet upstairs, would'ja believe it?"Cos I don't."

After all, it would only be a short while before one of his rogue personalities would show up and do something bloody stupid. Though he hoped that he wouldn't go through another omniversal-let's-destroy-the-universe-phase. That was really annoying last time.

Anyway's looks like the spandexperts aven't shown up to drag me into a straightjacket yet-'' he briefly glanced over at Casshan, before facepalming. "Looks like I spoke to bloody soon. Anyways, what do oyu think we should do?"

@LuckyCoolHawk @Thuro 116 Pendragon

 

[Thuro 116 Pendragon]

Crichton gave Jen a look that could charitably be called smug. They had known each other for such a long time that the words didn't even need said, the words of course being something along the lines of 'the Foundation effectively lobotomized your team. Great job'.

Jen's nonverbal reply was not safe for work or the ears of children.

"I guess I'd better start at the beginning. They warned that your dosages of amnestics might be a little screwy."

"Approximately one month ago you," She pointed at Lucifer, "and you," she pointed in turn at Corrin, "showed up with at Academy City with a message from one of the Crichtons. There was no identity enclosed, but somehow we were able to tell it was him."
​

"Um, brosef got captured on Boss's planet, and I'm about to turn myself into the Pit. It'd be nice if you could rescue us. I have a plan, but I'll need some more manpower to make it work. Don't worry. Almost no one dies Plan A."

"No hurry though. I've got a really hot chick acting like my bodyguard or something. It's almost a vacation."​

Jack carefully avoided looking at Camilla. "John must have gotten off a message before he was captured." He said guiltily.

"The Shield of Tomorrow was already put together by then, our ripoff of the Organization's Team program. Which is yeah, pretty much a suicide squad." She added that last part in response to Kara's question. "I'm not planning on anyone here dying though, okay?" She tried to add reassuringly. It didn't work. "We added Corrin and Lucifer at the last second, and we devised a plan."

"The amnestics were Kerry's idea, and I just let him go with it since he's our tactician." She admitted. "The idea was so that we could fool any psychics guarding the joint, but y'know, our intelligence screwed up and we didn't know that there weren't any, which woulda saved us this headache."

@Verite @CookieMonster @LuckycoolHawk9 @Mighty Roman @Minerva @Cromartie Sarkissian @york @Kaykay​

 

[York]

Lucifer was happy that she was happy to be conversing with him. He found nothing more boring than a person who wouldn't talk with him- or for that matter, thought they were above him, that was even worse than the previous thing he had mentioned.


" Kara, Supergirl it is though. You may call me Lucifer, it's what I prefer," he said to her.


Lucifer looked over at her and was happy that she seemed to be pleased with him for the moment and that was good. He still didn't understand why they had been chained together, but he wasn't about to question it too much for now. There was a ton of things that could be worse and one of them was dealing with the problems back home. He wasn't too keen on finding his mother who escaped Hell at all. He looked at the ground and wondered what there was to say now. He did know what this Shield of Tomorrow was supposed to be and he wasn't sure he was going to like it. Where they the reason that all of them had been captured or something else entirely? The memories were foggy, but it did make him grin.

" I believe that Supergirl took the words right out of my mouth," he said to the other woman.

@Verite @CookieMonster @Thuro 116 Pendragon @Mighty Roman @Minerva @Cromartie Sarkissian @york @Kaykay

Crichton gave Jen a look that could charitably be called smug. They had known each other for such a long time that the words didn't even need said, the words of course being something along the lines of 'the Foundation effectively lobotomized your team. Great job'.

Jen's nonverbal reply was not safe for work or the ears of children.

"I guess I'd better start at the beginning. They warned that your dosages of amnestics might be a little screwy."

"Approximately one month ago you," She pointed at Lucifer, "and you," she pointed in turn at Corrin, "showed up with at Academy City with a message from one of the Crichtons. There was no identity enclosed, but somehow we were able to tell it was him."
​

Jack carefully avoided looking at Camilla. "John must have gotten off a message before he was captured." He said guiltily.

"The Shield of Tomorrow was already put together by then, our ripoff of the Organization's Team program. Which is yeah, pretty much a suicide squad." She added that last part in response to Kara's question. "I'm not planning on anyone here dying though, okay?" She tried to add reassuringly. It didn't work. "We added Corrin and Lucifer at the last second, and we devised a plan."

"The amnestics were Kerry's idea, and I just let him go with it since he's our tactician." She admitted. "The idea was so that we could fool any psychics guarding the joint, but y'know, our intelligence screwed up and we didn't know that there weren't any, which woulda saved us this headache."

@Verite @CookieMonster @LuckycoolHawk9 @Mighty Roman @Minerva @Cromartie Sarkissian @york @Kaykay​

Kara In-Ze (Supergirl)
@Verite @CookieMonster @LuckycoolHawk9 @Mighty Roman @Minerva @Cromartie Sarkissian @Thuro 116 Pendragon @Kaykay

Kara just shook her head, it looks like this was a liiitle too much for the young superheroine to take in, but she wasn't completely overwhelmed either, and was able to understand the basic idea of what was going on.

"Then we better hope you stick to your plan." She said, obviously referring to the mention of well, them dying not being on their list of things planned, fortunately.

At least this wasn't really as much of a Suicide Squad as she had suspected at first, but with any luck... They would not have any casualties after they got through this, however, Kara wasn't completely confident things would stay this way, as her powers appeared to have taken quite the hit.​

 

[Mighty Roman]

Crichton gave Jen a look that could charitably be called smug. They had known each other for such a long time that the words didn't even need said, the words of course being something along the lines of 'the Foundation effectively lobotomized your team. Great job'.

Jen's nonverbal reply was not safe for work or the ears of children.

"I guess I'd better start at the beginning. They warned that your dosages of amnestics might be a little screwy."

"Approximately one month ago you," She pointed at Lucifer, "and you," she pointed in turn at Corrin, "showed up with at Academy City with a message from one of the Crichtons. There was no identity enclosed, but somehow we were able to tell it was him."
​

Jack carefully avoided looking at Camilla. "John must have gotten off a message before he was captured." He said guiltily.

"The Shield of Tomorrow was already put together by then, our ripoff of the Organization's Team program. Which is yeah, pretty much a suicide squad." She added that last part in response to Kara's question. "I'm not planning on anyone here dying though, okay?" She tried to add reassuringly. It didn't work. "We added Corrin and Lucifer at the last second, and we devised a plan."

"The amnestics were Kerry's idea, and I just let him go with it since he's our tactician." She admitted. "The idea was so that we could fool any psychics guarding the joint, but y'know, our intelligence screwed up and we didn't know that there weren't any, which woulda saved us this headache."

@Verite @CookieMonster @LuckycoolHawk9 @Mighty Roman @Minerva @Cromartie Sarkissian @york @Kaykay​

"Trust me lad, ye wouldn't like me when I have a headache. It's when all ye beasties come out!" He splayed his hands, the gesticulation displaying the messy results of tampering with his head. "People aren't scared o'death anyways. They're scared o' being forgotten. Funny how you remind us of the amnesiacs a' soon as ye bring it up." David pulled his sleeveless jacket tighter across his chest. He wished that he'd bought something warmer for his trip to these tunnels.
Anyways, something ol' Dad left me other than a psychic coma and a lifetime o' daddy issues is his psychic powers. None o'you are flashing any red lights, so I guess it worked!
He gave Camilla and Jack a sarcastic 'thumbs up' as he spoke. 10 out o'10 on the brainwashing, by the way. But I'm telling ye' now, if I joined some squadron o' spandexperts while I was under, you'll be bloody sorry.
These people didn't look like dad's spandex brigade. Most of them looked more like the military types. One of them looked like Chamber had a kid with a bloody Super Saiyan, one of them was Voldemort, one of them was some kind of biker, but other than that, just plain ol' Homo Sapiens, the genetic equivalent of Vanilla Ice Cream.
Still, may as well get to know the locals!
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