Singularity Beyond

[Mighty Roman]

Singularity Beyond​

Your head is fuzzy...the room is spinning...your memories flicker and fade like hot ash in a snow storm...you try to think but it hurts too much...all you can muster is a single question:

Why the hell did you drink so much on the way here?

It is common knowledge throughout the galaxy that space travel of any sort evolves into a strenuous and tedious affair; this is the sole driving purpose behind both the conception of unconscious/ stasis travel, and the passing of the Space Intoxicant Act of 5000AD, authorising the consumption of copious amounts of liquor while between planets. Such and act is seen as a holy grail to many travelers, as long as your pilot, auto or organic, is not a drinker him/her/itself.

Sadly for you, your captain was.

"Alright, Kiddies- the flights over" The Captain bellowed through the speakers, cutting through your blissful abyss with a voice like barbed wire. Her words seemed slightly slurred, a factor only rivaled in unnerving-ness by her seemingly aggravated state- this was a woman who hated her job, and cut corners accordingly "Hate to ruin your fun, but that means playtime's over too. To those of ya who are still asleep- hurry up and wake your asses up. For those of you loaded enough to afford stasis- your electric shock alarm clocks will be activating shortly- so I advise that you wake your asses up soon too" Her tone shifted from a lazy mumble to a butter disgust; it was as if the worlds had turned to lemon juice on her tongue "As for you precious little pixies in the lounge area- you know who you are- get the hell off my ship! Grab a Sob-O-Pill and go- if you damn drunks think you can play your stupid parlour games someplace else!" Her chalky voice trailed off for a moment, undoubtedly as another sip of whisky met her lips
"Need I remind you all..." Se continued "That you have been flying with Meridoon Airlines, the Premier in Space Travel etc. etc., and- for those of you naive enough to think that my bosses will give a damn about what you write in your staff review forms- your Captain's name has been Huragran Ail. For you loungers who are too damn drunk to remember your destination, you're about to depart onto Galactic Cross-Over Station 6, the 'Premier' intergalactic space port...knowing you ponces you probably alllll have tickets to that damn 'Heart of Gold show or some..." The message cut short, and a finger in the cockpit had abruptly slammed down against the comm button, playing only static.

Captain Ail's words had rang true- you were, of course, departing her Star Galactic Cruises "The Hyena" (licensed by Spec Co., previously granted 3 stars onSpaceHotels.Org due to 'Rude Staff) bound for Galactic Cross over 6. Every passenger has a ticket on his or her person, granting them assess not only to the Maiden Voyage of the Heart of Gold (A famous Cruiser with facilities to die for, rated 6/5 stars on SpaceHotels.Org due to it being "Perfect in every way") but also all of the amenities on the Cross over. Whether you're a hitchhiker, a lounger, a stasis traveler or otherwise, you will all have received a ticket, regardless of whether or not you remember actually buying one.

The passengers all migrate to the docking bay, only to be greeted by the stench of whisky, oil and several carrier droids guiding you through the well lite tunnel. The droids seem to carry your luggage (if your brought any) off to an unknown area to you right, concealed by an array of flashing lights and wiring noises, guarded by two burly human males. Further onward, the end of the tunnel can be seen, it's blast doors lowered, revealing the lobby of Cross-Over. A nearby board describes 3 possible paths-

The first is labeled "Luggage and Departures", which, as one might expect, contains your luggage, and leads to the departures area. If you choose not to collect your possessions, they will simply be moved onto the Heart of Gold's cargo area for inspection, before being placed on the Cruiser for you once your ticket is presented

The second is labeled "The VIP Lounge", and area much like the lounge of the Hyena, only far, far better kept. It's an exclusive bar for the elite of the elite, and is only open to those who present their tickets to the 7.1 foot green-scaled bouncer at the door. Once inside, feel free to hang out with your future crew mates, irresponsible rich kids and out-of-your-league models

The third is label "Entertainment and Reenactments", the one stop shop for anyone who's a fan of entertainment or Reenactments. In this area, the lives and times of famous multiversal figures are retold on glorious high definition by well trained Shakespearean actors...who have not been fact checked. Be prepared for incredibly bias performances and comedic historical errors.
Current Shows-

Keeping up with the Crichtons- A Rom-Com based around the Life of everyone's favourite property damaged

Inspector SPECTRE- A Tragedy-Crime Thriller about the persecution of charity organisation SPECTRE at the hands of the vicious gang called the 'Serenity'

---

Alternatively, the ticket holders could contact the managers of the Hyena, and complain about the poor staffing, possibly lowering the Cruiser's rating on SpaceHotels.Orga little, or confront the Captain Directly

So which category do you come under? Drinker Lounge ready to take his or her Son-O-Pill, Rich Stasis-Traveler, or Hitchhiking scoundrel?

The decision is yours- please enjoy/survive your stay!
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Welcome to Singularity Beyond, the all-new Singularity Multiversal RP!
Time to lay down some ground rules:
1. Be merciful on the GMs and each other.
2. No Meta-Gaming.
3. OC Discussion is up here in the Singularity Group:
https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/groupdiscussions/singularity.59/
4. Have fun (yes, that's a rule).

As part of the Singularityverse, Beyond is part of a shared universe, but it's pretty standalone in its own right. For those interested in the timeline of our previous works, look here:
https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/groupdiscussions/singularity-timeline.2057/discussion
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Each Chapter will be GMed by a different player. The current roster is:

1) @Mighty Roman / @Cromartie Sarkissian (Your Lords and Masters)
2)@Mighty Roman
3) @Minerva
4) @LuckycoolHawk9
5) @Thuro 116 Pendragon
6)
7) @Mighty Roman / @Cromartie Sarkissian (To wrap things up)
But newcomers, fear not! There's still time to join the writing league, just ask 'Martie or me.
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Character Roster:
Ezra Scarlet (Fairy Tale) & Hana "D.Va" Song (Overwatch)-@Silver Paladin @Minerva
Maxwell Lord (Supergirl) & Cameron Goodkin (Stitchers) & Peter Quill (MCU) @LuckycoolHawke9
Misogi Kumagawa (Medaka Box) & Lisa Wilbourn/Tattletale (Worm) @Kaykay
Undyne (Undertale (OU)) @RecentlyInsaneRussian
Yondu Udonta (MCU) & 'Egghead' @Mighty Roman
Judge Dredd (2000AD) @Cromartie Sarkissian
Hei (Darker Than Black) & Venom Snake (Metal Gear Solid) & Peter Maximoff (X-Men Movie Series) & Penance @The Wanderer
Senator Steven Armstrong (Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance) @Thuro 116 Pendragon
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Now, without further ado, onto the main event!

 

[LuckycoolHawk9]

Cameron surprisingly was the first to sober up. He looked around and wasn't sure where the heck he was and it bothered him. He seemed to have a ticket and when he looked over, he spotted Peter Quill, the other person who he would know. As he got off the ship, Quill muttered. " Well, I am going to go and drink in that place with the models," he said to him.

Cameron didn't want to do that. He needed that artifact. " Are you sure you want to do that? I imagine that your weapon won't be getting onto the ship so easily, they might thrown them away on you."

Quill groaned and followed Cameron to the Luggage area.

Maxwell Lord didn't remember going into space, but he wasn't going to get anything out of the captain. He decided to go the VIP lounge. Maybe he would flirt with some of the ladies.

@Minerva @Kaykay @RecentlyInsaneRussian @Mighty Roman @Cromartie Sarkissian @Thuro 116 Pendragon @The Wanderer

 

[The Wanderer]

[Quicksilver]
Peter was currently bobbing his head to the beat of "Sweet Dreams" by Eurythmics. As he walked to the lobby. Almost tempted to use his power to "check" some of the other passengers' luggage out. But, he had this feeling that if he did. Something bad would happen.

So, he didn't. Instead, the moment he arrived at the board that showed which way to go. Seeing as his luggage was just extra clothes and tapes that had most of his favorite songs, and batteries for his Walkman. And lots of duct tape. Never know when you need something quickly fixed....Or if you need to tie someone up. And a few boxes a Twinkies. He does get hungry. Besides that, his luggage shouldn't cause too much trouble.

And he wasn't in the mood to watch people act on stage. Not to mention, he would be extremely tempted to mess with them.

So, instead he made his way to the VIP Lounge. Quickly flashing his ticket to the bouncer, or well. Quick enough that the bouncer could see the ticket, and not just a blur.

After that, he was let in. Albeit with a stare of sorts from the bouncer. "It's the hair, isn't it? I contemplated dyeing it, but when I tried it. I ended up ruining a load of clothes." It was a small joke, since he didn't like the prospect of dyeing his hair. Not to mention, it was indeed odd to see a young man who had grey hair and pale skin. But Peter didn't care.

Jokes aside, he looked around the lounge. He wasn't that interested in the crowd, and from the looks of it. They wouldn't make for good conversation. So, he took a seat at a table. Rewinding the song in his Walkman. Before long, he was lightly drumming his hand and tapping his shoe along to the beat of the song, slightly mouthing the lyrics. Aside from Jim Croce's Time in a bottle, he loved Sweet Dreams. It had that type of style to it that it would leave a lasting impression. He seemed to be not bothered by the fact he was in space with little to no reason as to how he got there.
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[Venom Snake]
Venom was slightly fascinated by the tech surrounding him.

Had he not been exposed to the IDroid and what the R&D cooked up, he would be freaking out about this guaranteed. But, alas he only gave a slight 'hmm' at the sight of the tech. He was dressed in olive green fatigues. With no gear on him, save for his IDroid and his bionic arm. All of his equipment were in the duffle bags he had brought along. Including his cigars. Well, both the phantom cigars and regular cigars.

He honestly wanted to bring one with him, but he was positive that the crew would not take too kindly to him smoking.

So, he buried the desire deep within his subconscious.

He walked up to the board after a grey haired teen walked off. Quickly spotting the part that said Luggage.

Walking down the path, he would spend the next few minutes trying to locate his duffle bags, which wasn't hard. Since, they both did have the Diamond Dogs logo on the sides. Eventually he found them, and after checking to make sure they weren't messed with. He put both of them on, despite their size, they hardly weighed a thing.

He walked back to the lobby, before turning and headed to the VIP Lounge. Where he sat down in a corner table, reading a book that he pulled from one of his duffle bags. It was a book about a soldier's journey Every so often softly rubbing the shrapnel that stuck out of his forehead.
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[Penance]

Robbie stuffed his scarred hands into his hoodie pockets. Avoiding eye contact with most of the crew. Only lifting his gaze to look at the board. He only wanted to know where the luggage was. As his suit was in his duffle bag, and one of the robots took it, heading to an unknown destination. And he wanted to make sure that it had arrived at it's presumed destination, and to retrieve it, as he was almost positive that his suit would get taken away. Due to it's many "accessories."

After looking at the board, he quickly made his way to the Luggage area, as he walked, he tried to remember what had brought him here. As, one moment he was asleep in his "room" at a secret Shield base. Then, bam. He woke up here.

He was so distracted he bumped into someone on the way there. This brought him back to reality, and he quickly said. "Sorry." Before walking past them. Once he got there, he begun to search for his duffle bag. It took him awhile, but he soon found one similar to his. Picking it up, he set it on the ground, he proceeded to open it and check to make sure he had picked the right duffle bag, he was greeted by his trademark spiked helmet, lying atop his suit. He was tempted to put it on, but alas. Something told him not to, as he was in a public place.

He zipped up the duffle bag. Strapping it to himself. He walked back to the lobby. Staring at the board. He was about to head to watch the entertainment, as he was positive no one would head there. But, he didn't want to deal with people mis-representing events.

So, he went to the VIP Lounge. Where upon, he sat down at a table far away from everyone else. Starting to think about his past.
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[Hei]

Hei walked to the board, looking at it with tired eyes. Since, he had gone one and a half night with no sleep, doing a important mission for The Syndicate. One that they said was of the upmost importance.

If only they told him that it took place in Paris, and that the contractor that held the package had the ability to summon vehicles at will.

Fast vehicles at that.

Anyways, he fulfilled the mission, and was taking a nap on the plane back to Japan, when he woke up here. A part of him wondered if this was a dream. But then, the rationality of a Contractor kicked in, and told him that all of this was real.

He had already retrieved his backpack that contained his "BK-201" gear from the luggage area. Since he hardly trusted the crew. Or any of the passengers.

Eventually, he decided to head to the VIP Lounge. Cause, if the elite were allowed in there, then perhaps there wouldn't be as much commotion, so that he could catch a little shut eye. But, after he showed his ticket and walked in. And after he had sat down in a booth, ready to fall asleep. Someone woke him up. "Hey, man. You may want to be careful falling asleep in public. Someone might draw stuff on your face." Opening his eyes, he saw that the person talking to him was a grey haired teen, wearing a grey leather jacket, with goggles on his head.

Quickly, he switched his personality from 'Hei' to 'Li Shengshun.'

"I'll be careful.....If you don't mind me asking, but why is your hair grey?" He asked, still acting as Li. The teen replied with. "I don't know. I was born this way. 'Bout it. What's your name?" The teen sat down across from him. "Li Shengshun. Yours?" Hei automatically replied. The teen said. "Peter. Or Quicksilver. Whichever you prefer." That was an odd name. Then again, it could be a hint to something. Afterall, Hei knew that some nicknames gave something away. The real question was what was it....But, rather than asking right away, he began idle chit-chat. He'd ask later, so his cover wouldn't be brought under suspicion. And since Hei didn't know anything about this "Quicksilver." He didn't want that. As one of his teammates during the Heaven Gate War told him. "Never attack a foe you don't know much about." He had forgotten who had said it. But, then again, Hei could care less.

While Quicksilver was talking, Hei casted a glance around the lounge. One person caught his eye, it was a man with an eyepatch, and something jutting out of his forehead. With a prosthetic arm. There were other people, but they were either too far away or blocked by other people to see anything of interest.

Eventually, he went back to chatting with Quicksilver...

 

[Cromartie Sarkissian]

Cameron surprisingly was the first to sober up. He looked around and wasn't sure where the heck he was and it bothered him. He seemed to have a ticket and when he looked over, he spotted Peter Quill, the other person who he would know. As he got off the ship, Quill muttered. " Well, I am going to go and drink in that place with the models," he said to him.

Cameron didn't want to do that. He needed that artifact. " Are you sure you want to do that? I imagine that your weapon won't be getting onto the ship so easily, they might thrown them away on you."

Quill groaned and followed Cameron to the Luggage area.

Maxwell Lord didn't remember going into space, but he wasn't going to get anything out of the captain. He decided to go the VIP lounge. Maybe he would flirt with some of the ladies.

@Minerva @Kaykay @RecentlyInsaneRussian @Mighty Roman @Cromartie Sarkissian @Thuro 116 Pendragon @The Wanderer

Luggage Area
The luggage area appeared had a design not too different to the rest of the facility- pure white walls looking out into deep space, rough blue carpets coating the floors- only this time it was accompanied by a scent that could only be described as 'Odour D'Sweaty Tourist'

Beyond the rows of cheap seats and message boards lied the luggage conveyor belt, which wrapped around the furtherst wall. Every few seconds a new bag was being squeezed through the leather straps at the end of the belt, where it began its short journey through the room, before entering a second abyss of leather on the other side

Amidst the plain bags, damn crates and what appeared to be animal carriers, each cramped against the next like cattle before a rodeo, lied a single empty space. Upon this empty space, sat a small paper note, folded into a small teepee shape. It read as follows:

"Insert the baggage of passenger 42, Mr.P.Quil, here"

Around it lied several scratch marks, as if whatever bag the Starlord had once possessed had been pulled kicking and screaming from the spot.

If Quil and Cameron were to look around the room, they would notice a single, unassuming security guard lost in thought. His eyes were fixated on the ceiling, unblinking and unmoving. He had one of those forgettable faces, the kind that, by the end of the chapter, the entire crew would have swiftly forgotten.

Despite such features, he appeared to be the only staff member on duty in the area....

[Quicksilver]
Peter was currently bobbing his head to the beat of "Sweet Dreams" by Eurythmics. As he walked to the lobby. Almost tempted to use his power to "check" some of the other passengers' luggage out. But, he had this feeling that if he did. Something bad would happen.

So, he didn't. Instead, the moment he arrived at the board that showed which way to go. Seeing as his luggage was just extra clothes and tapes that had most of his favorite songs, and batteries for his Walkman. And lots of duct tape. Never know when you need something quickly fixed....Or if you need to tie someone up. And a few boxes a Twinkies. He does get hungry. Besides that, his luggage shouldn't cause too much trouble.

And he wasn't in the mood to watch people act on stage. Not to mention, he would be extremely tempted to mess with them.

So, instead he made his way to the VIP Lounge. Quickly flashing his ticket to the bouncer, or well. Quick enough that the bouncer could see the ticket, and not just a blur.

After that, he was let in. Albeit with a stare of sorts from the bouncer. "It's the hair, isn't it? I contemplated dyeing it, but when I tried it. I ended up ruining a load of clothes." It was a small joke, since he didn't like the prospect of dyeing his hair. Not to mention, it was indeed odd to see a young man who had grey hair and pale skin. But Peter didn't care.

Jokes aside, he looked around the lounge. He wasn't that interested in the crowd, and from the looks of it. They wouldn't make for good conversation. So, he took a seat at a table. Rewinding the song in his Walkman. Before long, he was lightly drumming his hand and tapping his shoe along to the beat of the song, slightly mouthing the lyrics. Aside from Jim Croce's Time in a bottle, he loved Sweet Dreams. It had that type of style to it that it would leave a lasting impression. He seemed to be not bothered by the fact he was in space with little to no reason as to how he got there.

The Bouncer, seemed stunned momentarily, unable to form any sort of sentence in response to the grey haired youth, instead giving him a looked that scream 'What the hell did I just witness?'

Well, his ID seemed to check out...there was no point in him leaving his post over this....right?

[Quicksilver]
Peter was currently bobbing his head to the beat of "Sweet Dreams" by Eurythmics. As he walked to the lobby. Almost tempted to use his power to "check" some of the other passengers' luggage out. But, he had this feeling that if he did. Something bad would happen.

So, he didn't. Instead, the moment he arrived at the board that showed which way to go. Seeing as his luggage was just extra clothes and tapes that had most of his favorite songs, and batteries for his Walkman. And lots of duct tape. Never know when you need something quickly fixed....Or if you need to tie someone up. And a few boxes a Twinkies. He does get hungry. Besides that, his luggage shouldn't cause too much trouble.

And he wasn't in the mood to watch people act on stage. Not to mention, he would be extremely tempted to mess with them.

So, instead he made his way to the VIP Lounge. Quickly flashing his ticket to the bouncer, or well. Quick enough that the bouncer could see the ticket, and not just a blur.

After that, he was let in. Albeit with a stare of sorts from the bouncer. "It's the hair, isn't it? I contemplated dyeing it, but when I tried it. I ended up ruining a load of clothes." It was a small joke, since he didn't like the prospect of dyeing his hair. Not to mention, it was indeed odd to see a young man who had grey hair and pale skin. But Peter didn't care.

Jokes aside, he looked around the lounge. He wasn't that interested in the crowd, and from the looks of it. They wouldn't make for good conversation. So, he took a seat at a table. Rewinding the song in his Walkman. Before long, he was lightly drumming his hand and tapping his shoe along to the beat of the song, slightly mouthing the lyrics. Aside from Jim Croce's Time in a bottle, he loved Sweet Dreams. It had that type of style to it that it would leave a lasting impression. He seemed to be not bothered by the fact he was in space with little to no reason as to how he got there.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Venom Snake]
Venom was slightly fascinated by the tech surrounding him.

Had he not been exposed to the IDroid and what the R&D cooked up, he would be freaking out about this guaranteed. But, alas he only gave a slight 'hmm' at the sight of the tech. He was dressed in olive green fatigues. With no gear on him, save for his IDroid and his bionic arm. All of his equipment were in the duffle bags he had brought along. Including his cigars. Well, both the phantom cigars and regular cigars.

He honestly wanted to bring one with him, but he was positive that the crew would not take too kindly to him smoking.

So, he buried the desire deep within his subconscious.

He walked up to the board after a grey haired teen walked off. Quickly spotting the part that said Luggage.

Walking down the path, he would spend the next few minutes trying to locate his duffle bags, which wasn't hard. Since, they both did have the Diamond Dogs logo on the sides. Eventually he found them, and after checking to make sure they weren't messed with. He put both of them on, despite their size, they hardly weighed a thing.

He walked back to the lobby, before turning and headed to the VIP Lounge. Where he sat down in a corner table, reading a book that he pulled from one of his duffle bags. It was a book about a soldier's journey Every so often softly rubbing the shrapnel that stuck out of his forehead.

"Good morning sir!" A green skinned waiter called from across the room, making his way towards Venom. It wasn't like one of VIP patrons to walk into the Lounge without grabbing something to drink, and even rare to find one with a book; the title of 'VIP' rarely required a basic literacy level. "Might I ask what you're reading?" The young alien muttered, pulling a chair between his legs, throwing an arm onto the table. He had a long enough lunch break to inspect this eye-patches anomaly, do what was stopping him from asking a few questions? "Seems like a good one...you a fan of war novels?"

[Quicksilver]
Peter was currently bobbing his head to the beat of "Sweet Dreams" by Eurythmics. As he walked to the lobby. Almost tempted to use his power to "check" some of the other passengers' luggage out. But, he had this feeling that if he did. Something bad would happen.

So, he didn't. Instead, the moment he arrived at the board that showed which way to go. Seeing as his luggage was just extra clothes and tapes that had most of his favorite songs, and batteries for his Walkman. And lots of duct tape. Never know when you need something quickly fixed....Or if you need to tie someone up. And a few boxes a Twinkies. He does get hungry. Besides that, his luggage shouldn't cause too much trouble.

And he wasn't in the mood to watch people act on stage. Not to mention, he would be extremely tempted to mess with them.

So, instead he made his way to the VIP Lounge. Quickly flashing his ticket to the bouncer, or well. Quick enough that the bouncer could see the ticket, and not just a blur.

After that, he was let in. Albeit with a stare of sorts from the bouncer. "It's the hair, isn't it? I contemplated dyeing it, but when I tried it. I ended up ruining a load of clothes." It was a small joke, since he didn't like the prospect of dyeing his hair. Not to mention, it was indeed odd to see a young man who had grey hair and pale skin. But Peter didn't care.

Jokes aside, he looked around the lounge. He wasn't that interested in the crowd, and from the looks of it. They wouldn't make for good conversation. So, he took a seat at a table. Rewinding the song in his Walkman. Before long, he was lightly drumming his hand and tapping his shoe along to the beat of the song, slightly mouthing the lyrics. Aside from Jim Croce's Time in a bottle, he loved Sweet Dreams. It had that type of style to it that it would leave a lasting impression. He seemed to be not bothered by the fact he was in space with little to no reason as to how he got there.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Venom Snake]
Venom was slightly fascinated by the tech surrounding him.

Had he not been exposed to the IDroid and what the R&D cooked up, he would be freaking out about this guaranteed. But, alas he only gave a slight 'hmm' at the sight of the tech. He was dressed in olive green fatigues. With no gear on him, save for his IDroid and his bionic arm. All of his equipment were in the duffle bags he had brought along. Including his cigars. Well, both the phantom cigars and regular cigars.

He honestly wanted to bring one with him, but he was positive that the crew would not take too kindly to him smoking.

So, he buried the desire deep within his subconscious.

He walked up to the board after a grey haired teen walked off. Quickly spotting the part that said Luggage.

Walking down the path, he would spend the next few minutes trying to locate his duffle bags, which wasn't hard. Since, they both did have the Diamond Dogs logo on the sides. Eventually he found them, and after checking to make sure they weren't messed with. He put both of them on, despite their size, they hardly weighed a thing.

He walked back to the lobby, before turning and headed to the VIP Lounge. Where he sat down in a corner table, reading a book that he pulled from one of his duffle bags. It was a book about a soldier's journey Every so often softly rubbing the shrapnel that stuck out of his forehead.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Penance]

Robbie stuffed his scarred hands into his hoodie pockets. Avoiding eye contact with most of the crew. Only lifting his gaze to look at the board. He only wanted to know where the luggage was. As his suit was in his duffle bag, and one of the robots took it, heading to an unknown destination. And he wanted to make sure that it had arrived at it's presumed destination, and to retrieve it, as he was almost positive that his suit would get taken away. Due to it's many "accessories."

After looking at the board, he quickly made his way to the Luggage area, as he walked, he tried to remember what had brought him here. As, one moment he was asleep in his "room" at a secret Shield base. Then, bam. He woke up here.

He was so distracted he bumped into someone on the way there. This brought him back to reality, and he quickly said. "Sorry." Before walking past them. Once he got there, he begun to search for his duffle bag. It took him awhile, but he soon found one similar to his. Picking it up, he set it on the ground, he proceeded to open it and check to make sure he had picked the right duffle bag, he was greeted by his trademark spiked helmet, lying atop his suit. He was tempted to put it on, but alas. Something told him not to, as he was in a public place.

He zipped up the duffle bag. Strapping it to himself. He walked back to the lobby. Staring at the board. He was about to head to watch the entertainment, as he was positive no one would head there. But, he didn't want to deal with people mis-representing events.

So, he went to the VIP Lounge. Where upon, he sat down at a table far away from everyone else. Starting to think about his past.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Hei]

Hei walked to the board, looking at it with tired eyes. Since, he had gone one and a half night with no sleep, doing a important mission for The Syndicate. One that they said was of the upmost importance.

If only they told him that it took place in Paris, and that the contractor that held the package had the ability to summon vehicles at will.

Fast vehicles at that.

Anyways, he fulfilled the mission, and was taking a nap on the plane back to Japan, when he woke up here. A part of him wondered if this was a dream. But then, the rationality of a Contractor kicked in, and told him that all of this was real.

He had already retrieved his backpack that contained his "BK-201" gear from the luggage area. Since he hardly trusted the crew. Or any of the passengers.

Eventually, he decided to head to the VIP Lounge. Cause, if the elite were allowed in there, then perhaps there wouldn't be as much commotion, so that he could catch a little shut eye. But, after he showed his ticket and walked in. And after he had sat down in a booth, ready to fall asleep. Someone woke him up. "Hey, man. You may want to be careful falling asleep in public. Someone might draw stuff on your face." Opening his eyes, he saw that the person talking to him was a grey haired teen, wearing a grey leather jacket, with goggles on his head.

Quickly, he switched his personality from 'Hei' to 'Li Shengshun.'

"I'll be careful.....If you don't mind me asking, but why is your hair grey?" He asked, still acting as Li. The teen replied with. "I don't know. I was born this way. 'Bout it. What's your name?" The teen sat down across from him. "Li Shengshun. Yours?" Hei automatically replied. The teen said. "Peter. Or Quicksilver. Whichever you prefer." That was an odd name. Then again, it could be a hint to something. Afterall, Hei knew that some nicknames gave something away. The real question was what was it....But, rather than asking right away, he began idle chit-chat. He'd ask later, so his cover wouldn't be brought under suspicion. And since Hei didn't know anything about this "Quicksilver." He didn't want that. As one of his teammates during the Heaven Gate War told him. "Never attack a foe you don't know much about." He had forgotten who had said it. But, then again, Hei could care less.

While Quicksilver was talking, Hei casted a glance around the lounge. One person caught his eye, it was a man with an eyepatch, and something jutting out of his forehead. With a prosthetic arm. There were other people, but they were either too far away or blocked by other people to see anything of interest.

Eventually, he went back to chatting with Quicksilver...

Joseph had maintained a visual on Penance from the moment he had left the Hyena, not daring to take his eyes off the man's silhouette. His look was enough of a give away- the hoodie, the poor skin, the hands in the pockets- this was no denying that this man was one of those damn mutie kids from the fringe. Penance, in the Judge's eyes, was a kid born to create trouble

All he had to do was make one minor slip up, a minor infringement on the law, and Joe would be on him like a wild dog, tearing him apart like his next meal.

To this end, Dredd began to prowl, perusing Robbie in his typical blue armor and helm; who needed to inconspicuous when you had the LAW on your side?

The chizzled jaw on Joseph shifted into a bitter sneer, as he finally comprehended Penence's first fault- his duffle bag! The way is seemed to implode at its centre, causing the edges of the fabric it crease around its core...it clearly contained something heavy...something spiky...something metal! Whatever it was, it quite clearly exceeded the 15lb weight limit for personal luggage on comercial space cruisers...and was thus a violation of the LAW

Dredd's gamble has payed off; the kid had slipped up! Barging through crowds like a mad Ox, Dredd flashed his Judges Badge to the Bouncer and began his final persuit.

There, in the corner...alone. The perfect quiet arrest!

Joe placed his boot onto the top of the table with thump and leaned in towards the superheroes face, close enough for Robbie to smell his foul morning breath "Listed here kid- let's hope that for your sake you have a licence for that luggage- it exceeds the weight limit for comercial flight, and this the Space Flights Baggage Act of 3065- ITS AGAINST THE LAW"

[Quicksilver]
Peter was currently bobbing his head to the beat of "Sweet Dreams" by Eurythmics. As he walked to the lobby. Almost tempted to use his power to "check" some of the other passengers' luggage out. But, he had this feeling that if he did. Something bad would happen.

So, he didn't. Instead, the moment he arrived at the board that showed which way to go. Seeing as his luggage was just extra clothes and tapes that had most of his favorite songs, and batteries for his Walkman. And lots of duct tape. Never know when you need something quickly fixed....Or if you need to tie someone up. And a few boxes a Twinkies. He does get hungry. Besides that, his luggage shouldn't cause too much trouble.

And he wasn't in the mood to watch people act on stage. Not to mention, he would be extremely tempted to mess with them.

So, instead he made his way to the VIP Lounge. Quickly flashing his ticket to the bouncer, or well. Quick enough that the bouncer could see the ticket, and not just a blur.

After that, he was let in. Albeit with a stare of sorts from the bouncer. "It's the hair, isn't it? I contemplated dyeing it, but when I tried it. I ended up ruining a load of clothes." It was a small joke, since he didn't like the prospect of dyeing his hair. Not to mention, it was indeed odd to see a young man who had grey hair and pale skin. But Peter didn't care.

Jokes aside, he looked around the lounge. He wasn't that interested in the crowd, and from the looks of it. They wouldn't make for good conversation. So, he took a seat at a table. Rewinding the song in his Walkman. Before long, he was lightly drumming his hand and tapping his shoe along to the beat of the song, slightly mouthing the lyrics. Aside from Jim Croce's Time in a bottle, he loved Sweet Dreams. It had that type of style to it that it would leave a lasting impression. He seemed to be not bothered by the fact he was in space with little to no reason as to how he got there.
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[Venom Snake]
Venom was slightly fascinated by the tech surrounding him.

Had he not been exposed to the IDroid and what the R&D cooked up, he would be freaking out about this guaranteed. But, alas he only gave a slight 'hmm' at the sight of the tech. He was dressed in olive green fatigues. With no gear on him, save for his IDroid and his bionic arm. All of his equipment were in the duffle bags he had brought along. Including his cigars. Well, both the phantom cigars and regular cigars.

He honestly wanted to bring one with him, but he was positive that the crew would not take too kindly to him smoking.

So, he buried the desire deep within his subconscious.

He walked up to the board after a grey haired teen walked off. Quickly spotting the part that said Luggage.

Walking down the path, he would spend the next few minutes trying to locate his duffle bags, which wasn't hard. Since, they both did have the Diamond Dogs logo on the sides. Eventually he found them, and after checking to make sure they weren't messed with. He put both of them on, despite their size, they hardly weighed a thing.

He walked back to the lobby, before turning and headed to the VIP Lounge. Where he sat down in a corner table, reading a book that he pulled from one of his duffle bags. It was a book about a soldier's journey Every so often softly rubbing the shrapnel that stuck out of his forehead.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Penance]

Robbie stuffed his scarred hands into his hoodie pockets. Avoiding eye contact with most of the crew. Only lifting his gaze to look at the board. He only wanted to know where the luggage was. As his suit was in his duffle bag, and one of the robots took it, heading to an unknown destination. And he wanted to make sure that it had arrived at it's presumed destination, and to retrieve it, as he was almost positive that his suit would get taken away. Due to it's many "accessories."

After looking at the board, he quickly made his way to the Luggage area, as he walked, he tried to remember what had brought him here. As, one moment he was asleep in his "room" at a secret Shield base. Then, bam. He woke up here.

He was so distracted he bumped into someone on the way there. This brought him back to reality, and he quickly said. "Sorry." Before walking past them. Once he got there, he begun to search for his duffle bag. It took him awhile, but he soon found one similar to his. Picking it up, he set it on the ground, he proceeded to open it and check to make sure he had picked the right duffle bag, he was greeted by his trademark spiked helmet, lying atop his suit. He was tempted to put it on, but alas. Something told him not to, as he was in a public place.

He zipped up the duffle bag. Strapping it to himself. He walked back to the lobby. Staring at the board. He was about to head to watch the entertainment, as he was positive no one would head there. But, he didn't want to deal with people mis-representing events.

So, he went to the VIP Lounge. Where upon, he sat down at a table far away from everyone else. Starting to think about his past.
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[Hei]

Hei walked to the board, looking at it with tired eyes. Since, he had gone one and a half night with no sleep, doing a important mission for The Syndicate. One that they said was of the upmost importance.

If only they told him that it took place in Paris, and that the contractor that held the package had the ability to summon vehicles at will.

Fast vehicles at that.

Anyways, he fulfilled the mission, and was taking a nap on the plane back to Japan, when he woke up here. A part of him wondered if this was a dream. But then, the rationality of a Contractor kicked in, and told him that all of this was real.

He had already retrieved his backpack that contained his "BK-201" gear from the luggage area. Since he hardly trusted the crew. Or any of the passengers.

Eventually, he decided to head to the VIP Lounge. Cause, if the elite were allowed in there, then perhaps there wouldn't be as much commotion, so that he could catch a little shut eye. But, after he showed his ticket and walked in. And after he had sat down in a booth, ready to fall asleep. Someone woke him up. "Hey, man. You may want to be careful falling asleep in public. Someone might draw stuff on your face." Opening his eyes, he saw that the person talking to him was a grey haired teen, wearing a grey leather jacket, with goggles on his head.

Quickly, he switched his personality from 'Hei' to 'Li Shengshun.'

"I'll be careful.....If you don't mind me asking, but why is your hair grey?" He asked, still acting as Li. The teen replied with. "I don't know. I was born this way. 'Bout it. What's your name?" The teen sat down across from him. "Li Shengshun. Yours?" Hei automatically replied. The teen said. "Peter. Or Quicksilver. Whichever you prefer." That was an odd name. Then again, it could be a hint to something. Afterall, Hei knew that some nicknames gave something away. The real question was what was it....But, rather than asking right away, he began idle chit-chat. He'd ask later, so his cover wouldn't be brought under suspicion. And since Hei didn't know anything about this "Quicksilver." He didn't want that. As one of his teammates during the Heaven Gate War told him. "Never attack a foe you don't know much about." He had forgotten who had said it. But, then again, Hei could care less.

While Quicksilver was talking, Hei casted a glance around the lounge. One person caught his eye, it was a man with an eyepatch, and something jutting out of his forehead. With a prosthetic arm. There were other people, but they were either too far away or blocked by other people to see anything of interest.

Eventually, he went back to chatting with Quicksilver...

"Riveting conversation, Fella's...absolutely riveting" A stemi cockey accent called out from a nearby table "But I disagree-- if you know too much about ye so-called 'foe'" He muttered, finally turning around in his seat. As he did so, his face seemed a dramatic slant of light, emphasising his knife-like indented cheeks, unnaturally pale demeanour and sleek, blonde-white hair. Black leather clung to his back, contesting the blood red dinner shirt on his front "Where the hell has all the fun gone?"
(Mobile post)

 

[Minerva]

Hangovers were not pleasant. No matter what the movies or catchy pop-music said, hangovers were not something that could be enjoyed. You got wasted, and then woke up with your head pounding, take an aspirin, and then go to work. To put it short: Hangovers are Satan's little gift unto the Earth. To top it off, alcohol doesn't even taste good.

Erza woke up in a bathtub. She was wearing her maid uniform for some reason. The previous night was all a blur to her. She remembers drinking and wanting to fight, but besides that, she only remembers brief flashes of light. However, she doesn't remember a spaceship. At all.

Well, this would be an adventure, considering the tech she wasn't used to. Erza took one of the pills, and headed to the VIP Lounge.

D.Va woke up in her mech without a hangover. She was too busy playing video games in her mech as usual. It was of no consequence. She didn't even realize that she was now on a spaceship.

After unboarding, D.Va and her mech made her way to The VIP Lounge.

@LuckycoolHawk9 @The Wanderer @Mighty Roman @Cromartie Sarkissian

 

[The Wanderer]

"Good morning sir!" A green skinned waiter called from across the room, making his way towards Venom. It wasn't like one of VIP patrons to walk into the Lounge without grabbing something to drink, and even rare to find one with a book; the title of 'VIP' rarely required a basic literacy level. "Might I ask what you're reading?" The young alien muttered, pulling a chair between his legs, throwing an arm onto the table. He had a long enough lunch break to inspect this eye-patches anomaly, do what was stopping him from asking a few questions? "Seems like a good one...you a fan of war novels?"

[Venom]

Venom looked up from his novel, before he responded. "Sun Tzu. Art of War. It's a nice novel. Friend of mine suggested it. I like it so far." His tone was calm and soft. Unlike sometimes on Motherbase. Where helicopters and machinery caused people to have to yell. That and it also caught the attention of fresh recruits during CQC training sessions. Venom soon held his prosthetic hand out to the waiter, to shake his hand. "Name's Snake." He was somewhat amazed that the waiter didn't ask anything about the shrapnel that protruded out of his head like a horn. But, more than likely this waiter had seen all sorts of things in his career.

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

Joe placed his boot onto the top of the table with thump and leaned in towards the superheroes face, close enough for Robbie to smell his foul morning breath "Listed here kid- let's hope that for your sake you have a licence for that luggage- it exceeds the weight limit for comercial flight, and this the Space Flights Baggage Act of 3065- ITS AGAINST THE LAW"

[Penance]
Robbie did cringe at the man's morning breath. But he stared back into the man's eyes....Er, where they could be under the visor. "It's just a suit.....Which I can switch out with my current clothes.....Or would that violate another law?" He said. He unzipped his duffle bag. Pulling out the suit. Laying it on the table. Should the Judge wish to inspect it. He also pulled out a registration form that Shield forced him to carry at all times when not on base, or on a two to three person squad. It said he could carry it onboard airplanes or boat, so long as he only donned it if only the situation called for it. He wasn't sure if it applied still, but he hoped it would. He had cleaned the inside of blood and whatnot, from suggestion from She-Hulk when he encountered her while assisting in the failed arrest of Captain America.

"Before you ask. The reason why there spikes are there, on the inside. They're to remind me of my failure to prevent the deaths of six-hundred and twelve people....." He quickly added in.

A part of him was ready to rumble should this man wish to do so. Afterall, he wasn't about to let his painful reminder of what had happened in Stamford be taken away.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Riveting conversation, Fella's...absolutely riveting" A stemi cockey accent called out from a nearby table "But I disagree-- if you know too much about ye so-called 'foe'" He muttered, finally turning around in his seat. As he did so, his face seemed a dramatic slant of light, emphasising his knife-like indented cheeks, unnaturally pale demeanour and sleek, blonde-white hair. Black leather clung to his back, contesting the blood red dinner shirt on his front "Where the hell has all the fun gone?"

[Hei]
Hei looked over to who was speaking. Not recognizing him. "And you are?" Quicksilver asked, turning to face the speaker.

He kept his Li Shengshun face on, but on the inside. Hei was weary of this person. It could be attributed to paranoia from the Heaven's Gate war, where he had to remain on his toes if he wanted to stay alive.

And while, he should be less paranoid of people, he couldn't help but be tempted to reach for one of his knives. But, he decided against it. Reaching to his backpack would only raise suspicion. Suspicion would lead to investigation. Investigation would lead to discovery. And.....Needless to say, he didn't wish to see what type of jail system they had here.

 

[Kaykay]

A young blonde wearing a skintight outfit and mask offloaded from the ship, stretching her arms out as she took a look around. Whisky, droids, guards, VIP rooms, all of this pointed to the kind of place that she could make some connections in. Tattletale could relax and have some fun in this kind of place. A vulpine smile on her face, she made her way to the VIP room.

She approached a silver haired teen, a Chinese man, and a man with a cockney accent.

"Hey boys. How're you all doing?"

@LuckycoolHawk9 @The Wanderer @Mighty Roman @Cromartie Sarkissian @Minerva
​

Joseph had maintained a visual on Penance from the moment he had left the Hyena, not daring to take his eyes off the man's silhouette. His look was enough of a give away- the hoodie, the poor skin, the hands in the pockets- this was no denying that this man was one of those damn mutie kids from the fringe. Penance, in the Judge's eyes, was a kid born to create trouble

All he had to do was make one minor slip up, a minor infringement on the law, and Joe would be on him like a wild dog, tearing him apart like his next meal.

To this end, Dredd began to prowl, perusing Robbie in his typical blue armor and helm; who needed to inconspicuous when you had the LAW on your side?

The chizzled jaw on Joseph shifted into a bitter sneer, as he finally comprehended Penence's first fault- his duffle bag! The way is seemed to implode at its centre, causing the edges of the fabric it crease around its core...it clearly contained something heavy...something spiky...something metal! Whatever it was, it quite clearly exceeded the 15lb weight limit for personal luggage on comercial space cruisers...and was thus a violation of the LAW

Dredd's gamble has payed off; the kid had slipped up! Barging through crowds like a mad Ox, Dredd flashed his Judges Badge to the Bouncer and began his final persuit.

There, in the corner...alone. The perfect quiet arrest!

Joe placed his boot onto the top of the table with thump and leaned in towards the superheroes face, close enough for Robbie to smell his foul morning breath "Listed here kid- let's hope that for your sake you have a licence for that luggage- it exceeds the weight limit for comercial flight, and this the Space Flights Baggage Act of 3065- ITS AGAINST THE LAW"

A strange boy appeared near the judge and kid with the potentially illegal luggage. His mere presence somehow made one not want to be around him, a constant aura of pure negativity radiating from him.

"『 Oh? What's wrong with his luggage, huh?』"

@The Wanderer @Cromartie Sarkissian​

 

[Cromartie Sarkissian]

A young blonde wearing a skintight outfit and mask offloaded from the ship, stretching her arms out as she took a look around. Whisky, droids, guards, VIP rooms, all of this pointed to the kind of place that she could make some connections in. Tattletale could relax and have some fun in this kind of place. A vulpine smile on her face, she made her way to the VIP room.

She approached a silver haired teen, a Chinese man, and a man with a cockney accent.

"Hey boys. How're you all doing?"

@LuckycoolHawk9 @The Wanderer @Mighty Roman @Cromartie Sarkissian @Minerva
​

A strange boy appeared near the judge and kid with the potentially illegal luggage. His mere presence somehow made one not want to be around him, a constant aura of pure negativity radiating from him.

"『 Oh? What's wrong with his luggage, huh?』"

@The Wanderer @Cromartie Sarkissian​

[Venom]

Venom looked up from his novel, before he responded. "Sun Tzu. Art of War. It's a nice novel. Friend of mine suggested it. I like it so far." His tone was calm and soft. Unlike sometimes on Motherbase. Where helicopters and machinery caused people to have to yell. That and it also caught the attention of fresh recruits during CQC training sessions. Venom soon held his prosthetic hand out to the waiter, to shake his hand. "Name's Snake." He was somewhat amazed that the waiter didn't ask anything about the shrapnel that protruded out of his head like a horn. But, more than likely this waiter had seen all sorts of things in his career.

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

[Penance]
Robbie did cringe at the man's morning breath. But he stared back into the man's eyes....Er, where they could be under the visor. "It's just a suit.....Which I can switch out with my current clothes.....Or would that violate another law?" He said. He unzipped his duffle bag. Pulling out the suit. Laying it on the table. Should the Judge wish to inspect it. He also pulled out a registration form that Shield forced him to carry at all times when not on base, or on a two to three person squad. It said he could carry it onboard airplanes or boat, so long as he only donned it if only the situation called for it. He wasn't sure if it applied still, but he hoped it would. He had cleaned the inside of blood and whatnot, from suggestion from She-Hulk when he encountered her while assisting in the failed arrest of Captain America.

"Before you ask. The reason why there spikes are there, on the inside. They're to remind me of my failure to prevent the deaths of six-hundred and twelve people....." He quickly added in.

A part of him was ready to rumble should this man wish to do so. Afterall, he wasn't about to let his painful reminder of what had happened in Stamford be taken away.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



[Hei]
Hei looked over to who was speaking. Not recognizing him. "And you are?" Quicksilver asked, turning to face the speaker.

He kept his Li Shengshun face on, but on the inside. Hei was weary of this person. It could be attributed to paranoia from the Heaven's Gate war, where he had to remain on his toes if he wanted to stay alive.

And while, he should be less paranoid of people, he couldn't help but be tempted to reach for one of his knives. But, he decided against it. Reaching to his backpack would only raise suspicion. Suspicion would lead to investigation. Investigation would lead to discovery. And.....Needless to say, he didn't wish to see what type of jail system they had here.

Hangovers were not pleasant. No matter what the movies or catchy pop-music said, hangovers were not something that could be enjoyed. You got wasted, and then woke up with your head pounding, take an aspirin, and then go to work. To put it short: Hangovers are Satan's little gift unto the Earth. To top it off, alcohol doesn't even taste good.

Erza woke up in a bathtub. She was wearing her maid uniform for some reason. The previous night was all a blur to her. She remembers drinking and wanting to fight, but besides that, she only remembers brief flashes of light. However, she doesn't remember a spaceship. At all.

Well, this would be an adventure, considering the tech she wasn't used to. Erza took one of the pills, and headed to the VIP Lounge.

D.Va woke up in her mech without a hangover. She was too busy playing video games in her mech as usual. It was of no consequence. She didn't even realize that she was now on a spaceship.

After unboarding, D.Va and her mech made her way to The VIP Lounge.

@LuckycoolHawk9 @The Wanderer @Mighty Roman @Cromartie Sarkissian

Venom
"Venom? Like the poison?" The waiter leaned back on his chair and ran his hands through his long, wavy hair. He had came across stranger names in the past- heck, there was one guy in the bar names after a railroad spike- Venom actually seemed like a surprisingly rational chosen name, especially for such a decked out solider. "The Art of War...So you really are one of those 'Military Men', huh. I guess that would explain the..." He gestured across his face with his left hand, tracing the area where Snake's shrapnel penetrated his flesh, oblivious to any offence such an action might have caused. "I mean, a lot of people walk through these doors with horns and stuff, but that thing looks pretty metallic...like a radio antenna"

Penance and the Strange Boy
Dredd retained eye contact with Robbie as he unveiled his suit, not daring to flinch as started to unzip "No ordinary suit weights that mu..." Then came the spikes. All 600+ of them. One for every dead sound

Now, Judge Joseph Dedd had, and had always had, a stomach of iron and a liver of stone- it wasn't the nature of Robbie's obvious condition that unnerved him- it was the number of LAWS he had violated

He span his head around 45%, staring down the strange boy "Stay back civilian" Dredd growled, undeniably triggered by the interruption "This..." He grabbed the Licence form the top of the table, reading out he owners name "Robert Baldwin, just brought some sort of mutilator party hat into the VIP room..." He crunched the paperworks within his large gauntlets "With some fake paperwork for further moot. Baldwin: you're coming with me, and when you do, I advise you come quietly. You too" He gestured to the new comer "Whoever you are: I'm going to need another witness when I take 'im don't to the security office"

Quicksilver, Li/Hei and the Blonde Girl
"I don't know about these other fellas, love, but I'm feeling utterly marvellous-" The man mumbled, his words slightly slurred. "But that may be 'cause of the constant flow of these" He raised his glass, sending 3 minature umbrellas and a curly straw spiralling around its rim.

"Of course, there is a pretty name to this pretty face..." He mumbled, maintaining his semi-serious, semi-tipsy facade "The name's Spike, Spike the Bloody. Or Bloody the Spike- depends on the day I'm having" He clambered to his feet, span his chair around between his thighs, and pulled it towards Li's table. "And you guys are?"

Spike took another greedy sick of his straw, licking a deep red substance off his lips. "Good stuff" He mumbled, mustering the resolve to pull himself away from cup and towards his company. "Will you Fella's be going to see the show? I hear it's going to be a blast"


Maxwell, Erza and D.V.a
"You there!" The voice of a stuffy Italian businessman called across the bar "I've been looking all over for you three! You guys are on stage in 5 BLOODY MINUTES! You know, these Reenactments don't act themselves you know! Now get in YOUR FREAKING COSTUMES!!"

 

[The Wanderer]

"I mean, a lot of people walk through these doors with horns and stuff, but that thing looks pretty metallic...like a radio antenna"

[Venom]

"It's shrapnel. Got it from an explosion. Spent a few years in a coma. Lost my arm in that span." Venom raised his red prosthetic hand. He wasn't offended by the motion. "And, you could say I am a soldier." He didn't want to reveal too much information about what his actual occupation was. Since he wasn't too sure how the authorities here would respond to a leader of a mercenary organization being there.

"Got any more questions?" He asked. Putting the bookmark in the book and laying it to the side.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"This..." He grabbed the Licence form the top of the table, reading out he owners name "Robert Baldwin, just brought some sort of mutilator party hat into the VIP room..." He crunched the paperworks within his large gauntlets "With some fake paperwork for further moot. Baldwin: you're coming with me, and when you do, I advise you come quietly. You too"

[Penance]
Robbie's eyebrow twitched. So, this is how it was going to play out. The moment the man turned, Robbie immediately took off his hoodie and sweat pants he had been wearing. Thankfully, he wasn't standing there in his underwear. He was wearing a red, almost skintight pants with straps on them. He grabbed the boots first. Carefully putting them on. He could feel a few spikes poking painfully into his thighs and feet. After that, he grabbed the rest of the suit. Slipping his arms into the appropriate sleeves, and securing the metal chest piece into place. He put the gloves on, leaving only the helmet left. At this point, the vents on the upper chest region of the chest piece had blood trickling out.

If anyone else tried to wear the suit, they'd cry out in pure anguish. But to Robbie. The pain was only a reminder of what had happened that day. Every spike that raked his skin, only reminded him. Of everyone that died. Everyone he had failed. Especially the children. Infact, that is why he had 60 spikes be longer, and actually pierce his skin. So they would hurt the most.

He picked up his helmet. Turning to the man. Robbie put the helmet on. "The paperwork isn't fake....Infact, I'm beginning to doubt you are actually a cop. Pretty convincing though...." He wasn't looking to fight. But, if he had to. He would. Robbie crossed his arms.
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Spike took another greedy sick of his straw, licking a deep red substance off his lips. "Good stuff" He mumbled, mustering the resolve to pull himself away from cup and towards his company. "Will you Fella's be going to see the show? I hear it's going to be a blast"

[Hei]
"Li Shengshun." Hei said to the lady and the man, still maintaining his cover's personality.

While he was slightly smiling as Li. Hei was running the man's particular choice of words in his mind. What could that mean? Was there going to be a bombing? Or, something else?

"Sure, it sounds interesting." He said. Acting oblivious. Soon after this, he quickly asked. "Do you by any chance know where the bathroom is?" He didn't need to go to the bathroom, but incase something was going to happen. He needed to be in his BK-201 attire.
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[Quicksilver]
"Peter Maximoff. Or Quicksilver." He gave the lady a cheesy wink. Before looking to the guy. "Maybe. If they got snacks allow me to listen to music."

Quicksilver had picked up on the last word of the man's sentence. Finding it really odd. And while he was tempted to let things play out. But, if things could be avoided, he would rather that than people get hurt. As fast as he could be. He couldn't rewind time if innocent people got injured or worse. That was when he spotted three people in a corner. One was wearing weird spikey armor and the other wearing an odd helmet and suit. The last one was a boy.

So, as things slowed down to the point it was like someone had turn the slow motion to the max. Quicksilver put his goggles on and got up, dashing over to the counter. Grabbing a pen and a napkin. Taking care to not shred the paper or break the pen. He quickly wrote a message. When he was done. He put the pen back. Before dashing over the trio. Said trio were seemingly frozen. Then again, whenever Quicksilver moved this fast, people always seemed frozen.

He carefully opened the guy with the helmet/visor's hand, placing the note in his hand. Before carefully closing the man's hand around the note so it didn't fall. Before slowly moving the hand with the note infront of his face. So he'd notice it quicker. He would've done this faster, but at this speed. He'd end up only breaking or even shattering the man's arm and hand.

He went back to the booth, taking off the goggles. And returned to normal speed. To everyone else, it'd look like Quicksilver disappeared in a blur, and returned the next Nano-second.

The note in Joe's hand read as such. "Hey, hate to interrupt whatever was going on. But, something may happen in the entertainment room. Not entirely sure, but better safe than sorry. Would've asked someone else, but you looked to be the security dude. Sincerely, a rather dashing silver haired speedster."

 

[Thuro 116 Pendragon]

Truth. Freedom. The American Way.

God Bless America.

Standing here, I realize you were just like me, tried to make history. But who's to judge to judge, no right from wrong, when our guard is down, I think we'll both agree that violence breeds violence, but in the end It Has To Be This Way.

Every man has to make a choice in this life. Live by the sword, or die by the blade. Make a realization that every man has to make his own history, change the world for how he wants it to be. Realize that to make America great again, you would going to have to break America. Realize that…

Realize that…

Realize… Why is it so dark?

It was dark as pitch, the place where he awoke, and the air was stale. The Senator tried to tried to flex his stiff muscles and discovered that he could not move.

The Senator was bound tight, his face covered. Both arms were lashed behind his back, and his feet were manacled. Even the rise and fall of his massive chest was restrained.

The rage grew inside him. From deep within his great chest, a low, muffled growl built to a mighty, defiant bellow. The sound in that echoed back seemed to suggest that he was enclosed in a small place, a room with metal walls.

Who had imprisoned him? Where was he, and how long had he been there? He did not know, nor did he care. All that mattered was that he be free.

The Senator began to thrash about wildly, and the bonds that held him began to creak and groan under the strain.

He would be free … oh yes! It would just be a matter of time …

A great metal container about the size of the size of a pickup bed rolled along the luggage tracks, stopping in front Judge Dredd and Penance. Carved on the outside, the marks consistent with those of a Katana, was 'Dangerous live cargo. Level three. Handle with care."

If someone had had nothing better to do, like say, watch grass grow, they might have noticed the outer wall of the container slowly deform; at first bowing outwards, then assuming the shape of a face. A few illegal immigrants hiding in the ship's luggage docks began worshiping the face as a manifestation of the Virgin Mother, then they realized that the Virgin Mother looked nothing like an a billionaire industrialist that wanted to become president and 'make America great again' by kicking out all the immigrants and giving everyone a gun and a license to kill.

It was very fortunate that technically Senator Steven Armstrong owned the company that had designed the containment device, otherwise Judge Dredd would have had to imprison Armstrong for destruction of property as he burst through the steel container like the Kool-Aid man, proudly declaring; "Nanomachines. Man's best friend."

As he thought back to how he had been imprisoned, that little Brazilian shit turning on him; how clenched his fist and desperately wished for a cigar. "Little fuck. Did you think you could keep me imprisoned in a little toy box? It was only a matter of time."

Patting himself down to make sure he didn't in fact have a cigar on him without realizing it, his eyebrows drew together as he pulled a card out of the back of his slacks. It was a picture of a sad puppy in the rain-only Sam would be so audacious and frankly, trollish (he didn't live in the right part of the multiverse to meet Crichton). Armstrong felt his nanomachines hardening in response to his pure, righteous fury. He'd been accepted into the cause as a brother in arms, and he'd betrayed him. He'd crush the foreign little fucker.

And he could do it. Sam couldn't have expected him to get out, that shell was made out of a metal supposedly even stronger than nanomachines. Only the spirit of freedom had kept him going.

Opening up the card, Sam's smooth Brazilian voice-it was one of those cheesy voice recording cards, like the kind Armstrong had gotten his secretary before he'd snapped her neck-rolled out; "Armstrong. You're free. That's truly a shame, though not a surprise. Let me guess, three months it took you to get out, no?"

Armstrong almost crushed the entire thing then.

"You're a crazy bastard Armstrong. I could have liked that about you, if you hadn't cut off my arm. Alas, I've found a new partner now. Truly too bad that we're going to save this world without you, and oh. By the time you hear this, the entire affair will be over. Come and kill me if you can Senator, unless you happen to get stuck in a interdimensional cruise, paid for courtesy of Wildcard Industries. Goodbye Senator, hope you survive the trip." The card cut off to the sounds of Sam singing the Que Sera Sera song.

Armstrong did crush the card then, and lit it on fire and threw it in frustration, not realizing that he'd thrown it straight into hair of one Joseph Dredd, Certified Badass and Hardass.

"Little fucker. I'm going take his little sword and shove it up his ass, then rip his head off and pull it all the way through."

True to his word though, there was a ticket attached, addressed to one Steven Armstrong, Professional Asshole. And Armstrong did need the time to recover. He'd been hammering at taking down the wall (which was a change for him, usually he tried building walls in this country) and his restraints for the entire three months, not taking a break to rest or sleep. Only his righteous fire-and nanomachines, son- kept him going. As it was however, he stepped off to go to the theater to watch a play about this Crichton character. Surely he was a brave, handsome, dashing space captain and not an idiot cripple with a hero complex and few friends.

Right?

Assuming of course that he didn't have to go into 'fuck the police' mode if Dredd started pursuing.​

 

[Kaykay]

Quicksilver, Li/Hei and the Blonde Girl
"I don't know about these other fellas, love, but I'm feeling utterly marvellous-" The man mumbled, his words slightly slurred. "But that may be 'cause of the constant flow of these" He raised his glass, sending 3 minature umbrellas and a curly straw spiralling around its rim.

"Of course, there is a pretty name to this pretty face..." He mumbled, maintaining his semi-serious, semi-tipsy facade "The name's Spike, Spike the Bloody. Or Bloody the Spike- depends on the day I'm having" He clambered to his feet, span his chair around between his thighs, and pulled it towards Li's table. "And you guys are?"

Spike took another greedy sick of his straw, licking a deep red substance off his lips. "Good stuff" He mumbled, mustering the resolve to pull himself away from cup and towards his company. "Will you Fella's be going to see the show? I hear it's going to be a blast"

[Hei]
"Li Shengshun." Hei said to the lady and the man, still maintaining his cover's personality.

While he was slightly smiling as Li. Hei was running the man's particular choice of words in his mind. What could that mean? Was there going to be a bombing? Or, something else?

"Sure, it sounds interesting." He said. Acting oblivious. Soon after this, he quickly asked. "Do you by any chance know where the bathroom is?" He didn't need to go to the bathroom, but incase something was going to happen. He needed to be in his BK-201 attire.
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[Quicksilver]
"Peter Maximoff. Or Quicksilver." He gave the lady a cheesy wink. Before looking to the guy. "Maybe. If they got snacks allow me to listen to music."

Quicksilver had picked up on the last word of the man's sentence. Finding it really odd. And while he was tempted to let things play out. But, if things could be avoided, he would rather that than people get hurt. As fast as he could be. He couldn't rewind time if innocent people got injured or worse. That was when he spotted three people in a corner. One was wearing weird spikey armor and the other wearing an odd helmet and suit. The last one was a boy.

So, as things slowed down to the point it was like someone had turn the slow motion to the max. Quicksilver put his goggles on and got up, dashing over to the counter. Grabbing a pen and a napkin. Taking care to not shred the paper or break the pen. He quickly wrote a message. When he was done. He put the pen back. Before dashing over the trio. Said trio were seemingly frozen. Then again, whenever Quicksilver moved this fast, people always seemed frozen.

He carefully opened the guy with the helmet/visor's hand, placing the note in his hand. Before carefully closing the man's hand around the note so it didn't fall. Before slowly moving the hand with the note infront of his face. So he'd notice it quicker. He would've done this faster, but at this speed. He'd end up only breaking or even shattering the man's arm and hand.

He went back to the booth, taking off the goggles. And returned to normal speed. To everyone else, it'd look like Quicksilver disappeared in a blur, and returned the next Nano-second.

The note in Joe's hand read as such. "Hey, hate to interrupt whatever was going on. But, something may happen in the entertainment room. Not entirely sure, but better safe than sorry. Would've asked someone else, but you looked to be the security dude. Sincerely, a rather dashing silver haired speedster."

"You boys can call me Tattletale. Or Tats, if you don't like the name. That's understandable. Did you save a drink for me?" The girl calling herself Tattletale winked back at Quicksilver, though soon her own power overloaded her as Quicksilver moved about. Her ability told her a whole lot had happened, even though she hadn't seen a thing.

Letting her power do its work, she quickly gathered information. Speed. He'd run off somewhere. A pen. He'd written something? What had he written? Without any information, she wasn't able to get anything on that, but that was more than enough. Certainly an interesting one, this guy. That was some crazy speed if she couldn't even catch a glimpse of it.

Resting one hand on her hip and shooting the speedster a knowing smirk, she began to speak.

"Win all the races in gym class, Peter?" Turning to Spike, she asked, "Interesting way to name yourself. What's the show going to be about, anyway?"
​

Penance and the Strange Boy
Dredd retained eye contact with Robbie as he unveiled his suit, not daring to flinch as started to unzip "No ordinary suit weights that mu..." Then came the spikes. All 600+ of them. One for every dead sound

Now, Judge Joseph Dedd had, and had always had, a stomach of iron and a liver of stone- it wasn't the nature of Robbie's obvious condition that unnerved him- it was the number of LAWS he had violated

He span his head around 45%, staring down the strange boy "Stay back civilian" Dredd growled, undeniably triggered by the interruption "This..." He grabbed the Licence form the top of the table, reading out he owners name "Robert Baldwin, just brought some sort of mutilator party hat into the VIP room..." He crunched the paperworks within his large gauntlets "With some fake paperwork for further moot. Baldwin: you're coming with me, and when you do, I advise you come quietly. You too" He gestured to the new comer "Whoever you are: I'm going to need another witness when I take 'im don't to the security office"

[Penance]
Robbie's eyebrow twitched. So, this is how it was going to play out. The moment the man turned, Robbie immediately took off his hoodie and sweat pants he had been wearing. Thankfully, he wasn't standing there in his underwear. He was wearing a red, almost skintight pants with straps on them. He grabbed the boots first. Carefully putting them on. He could feel a few spikes poking painfully into his thighs and feet. After that, he grabbed the rest of the suit. Slipping his arms into the appropriate sleeves, and securing the metal chest piece into place. He put the gloves on, leaving only the helmet left. At this point, the vents on the upper chest region of the chest piece had blood trickling out.

If anyone else tried to wear the suit, they'd cry out in pure anguish. But to Robbie. The pain was only a reminder of what had happened that day. Every spike that raked his skin, only reminded him. Of everyone that died. Everyone he had failed. Especially the children. Infact, that is why he had 60 spikes be longer, and actually pierce his skin. So they would hurt the most.

He picked up his helmet. Turning to the man. Robbie put the helmet on. "The paperwork isn't fake....Infact, I'm beginning to doubt you are actually a cop. Pretty convincing though...." He wasn't looking to fight. But, if he had to. He would. Robbie crossed his arms.

"『 Oh? I have nothing to do with this, though a mutilator party hat? Haha, that sounds like a fun toy.』"

The boy made light of the situation, laughing as if it were a simple prank. Though as Robbie began to strip, the boy shrugged and shook his head.

"『Sorry, I'm not interested in men, but it's flattering you'd do so much for me. You can call me Kumagawa. Ah, or Misogi if you're a Westerner, I guess.』"

When Dredd told Misogi he needed to come with, he just scratched his neck before pointing towards himself with an expression of disbelief.

"『 Who? Me? Sorry, but I haven't seen anything.』"

A pause.

"『 Just kidding, I'll come along I suppose. But...』" He grabbed the fiery card out of Dredd's hair, spinning it in his hand, not seeming to mind the heat of the fire even as it burned his hand. "『 Is this a fashion statement, or something?』"​

 

[LuckycoolHawk9]

Luggage Area
The luggage area appeared had a design not too different to the rest of the facility- pure white walls looking out into deep space, rough blue carpets coating the floors- only this time it was accompanied by a scent that could only be described as 'Odour D'Sweaty Tourist'

Beyond the rows of cheap seats and message boards lied the luggage conveyor belt, which wrapped around the furtherst wall. Every few seconds a new bag was being squeezed through the leather straps at the end of the belt, where it began its short journey through the room, before entering a second abyss of leather on the other side

Amidst the plain bags, damn crates and what appeared to be animal carriers, each cramped against the next like cattle before a rodeo, lied a single empty space. Upon this empty space, sat a small paper note, folded into a small teepee shape. It read as follows:

"Insert the baggage of passenger 42, Mr.P.Quil, here"

Around it lied several scratch marks, as if whatever bag the Starlord had once possessed had been pulled kicking and screaming from the spot.

If Quil and Cameron were to look around the room, they would notice a single, unassuming security guard lost in thought. His eyes were fixated on the ceiling, unblinking and unmoving. He had one of those forgettable faces, the kind that, by the end of the chapter, the entire crew would have swiftly forgotten.

Despite such features, he appeared to be the only staff member on duty in the area....

Quill looked at the luggage spot and saw that his bags were gone. Somehow that didn't shock the Star Lord. If there was a misadventure in which things were going right, he was sure that he would be crazy and that was the truth. He approached the security guard. " So, excuse me, Mr. Guard? Do you have any clue where my bag was dragged away too?" He asked.

Cameron went to look for his bag while Quill dealt with his stuff.

Maxwell Lord looked at the man and tilted his head. What the hell was this Italian man babbling on about? " Sir, I believe you have me confused for someone else," he said.

@Cromartie Sarkissian @Minerva

 

[Cromartie Sarkissian]

"You boys can call me Tattletale. Or Tats, if you don't like the name. That's understandable. Did you save a drink for me?" The girl calling herself Tattletale winked back at Quicksilver, though soon her own power overloaded her as Quicksilver moved about. Her ability told her a whole lot had happened, even though she hadn't seen a thing.

Letting her power do its work, she quickly gathered information. Speed. He'd run off somewhere. A pen. He'd written something? What had he written? Without any information, she wasn't able to get anything on that, but that was more than enough. Certainly an interesting one, this guy. That was some crazy speed if she couldn't even catch a glimpse of it.

Resting one hand on her hip and shooting the speedster a knowing smirk, she began to speak.

"Win all the races in gym class, Peter?" Turning to Spike, she asked, "Interesting way to name yourself. What's the show going to be about, anyway?"
​

"『 Oh? I have nothing to do with this, though a mutilator party hat? Haha, that sounds like a fun toy.』"

The boy made light of the situation, laughing as if it were a simple prank. Though as Robbie began to strip, the boy shrugged and shook his head.

"『Sorry, I'm not interested in men, but it's flattering you'd do so much for me. You can call me Kumagawa. Ah, or Misogi if you're a Westerner, I guess.』"

When Dredd told Misogi he needed to come with, he just scratched his neck before pointing towards himself with an expression of disbelief.

"『 Who? Me? Sorry, but I haven't seen anything.』"

A pause.

"『 Just kidding, I'll come along I suppose. But...』" He grabbed the fiery card out of Dredd's hair, spinning it in his hand, not seeming to mind the heat of the fire even as it burned his hand. "『 Is this a fashion statement, or something?』"​

[Venom]

"It's shrapnel. Got it from an explosion. Spent a few years in a coma. Lost my arm in that span." Venom raised his red prosthetic hand. He wasn't offended by the motion. "And, you could say I am a soldier." He didn't want to reveal too much information about what his actual occupation was. Since he wasn't too sure how the authorities here would respond to a leader of a mercenary organization being there.

"Got any more questions?" He asked. Putting the bookmark in the book and laying it to the side.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



[Penance]
Robbie's eyebrow twitched. So, this is how it was going to play out. The moment the man turned, Robbie immediately took off his hoodie and sweat pants he had been wearing. Thankfully, he wasn't standing there in his underwear. He was wearing a red, almost skintight pants with straps on them. He grabbed the boots first. Carefully putting them on. He could feel a few spikes poking painfully into his thighs and feet. After that, he grabbed the rest of the suit. Slipping his arms into the appropriate sleeves, and securing the metal chest piece into place. He put the gloves on, leaving only the helmet left. At this point, the vents on the upper chest region of the chest piece had blood trickling out.

If anyone else tried to wear the suit, they'd cry out in pure anguish. But to Robbie. The pain was only a reminder of what had happened that day. Every spike that raked his skin, only reminded him. Of everyone that died. Everyone he had failed. Especially the children. Infact, that is why he had 60 spikes be longer, and actually pierce his skin. So they would hurt the most.

He picked up his helmet. Turning to the man. Robbie put the helmet on. "The paperwork isn't fake....Infact, I'm beginning to doubt you are actually a cop. Pretty convincing though...." He wasn't looking to fight. But, if he had to. He would. Robbie crossed his arms.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



[Hei]
"Li Shengshun." Hei said to the lady and the man, still maintaining his cover's personality.

While he was slightly smiling as Li. Hei was running the man's particular choice of words in his mind. What could that mean? Was there going to be a bombing? Or, something else?

"Sure, it sounds interesting." He said. Acting oblivious. Soon after this, he quickly asked. "Do you by any chance know where the bathroom is?" He didn't need to go to the bathroom, but incase something was going to happen. He needed to be in his BK-201 attire.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Quicksilver]
"Peter Maximoff. Or Quicksilver." He gave the lady a cheesy wink. Before looking to the guy. "Maybe. If they got snacks allow me to listen to music."

Quicksilver had picked up on the last word of the man's sentence. Finding it really odd. And while he was tempted to let things play out. But, if things could be avoided, he would rather that than people get hurt. As fast as he could be. He couldn't rewind time if innocent people got injured or worse. That was when he spotted three people in a corner. One was wearing weird spikey armor and the other wearing an odd helmet and suit. The last one was a boy.

So, as things slowed down to the point it was like someone had turn the slow motion to the max. Quicksilver put his goggles on and got up, dashing over to the counter. Grabbing a pen and a napkin. Taking care to not shred the paper or break the pen. He quickly wrote a message. When he was done. He put the pen back. Before dashing over the trio. Said trio were seemingly frozen. Then again, whenever Quicksilver moved this fast, people always seemed frozen.

He carefully opened the guy with the helmet/visor's hand, placing the note in his hand. Before carefully closing the man's hand around the note so it didn't fall. Before slowly moving the hand with the note infront of his face. So he'd notice it quicker. He would've done this faster, but at this speed. He'd end up only breaking or even shattering the man's arm and hand.

He went back to the booth, taking off the goggles. And returned to normal speed. To everyone else, it'd look like Quicksilver disappeared in a blur, and returned the next Nano-second.

The note in Joe's hand read as such. "Hey, hate to interrupt whatever was going on. But, something may happen in the entertainment room. Not entirely sure, but better safe than sorry. Would've asked someone else, but you looked to be the security dude. Sincerely, a rather dashing silver haired speedster."

Venom-
"Wow! Shrapnel? That's pretty hectic" The waiter mumbled, leaning back into his chair with a tone of full dumbfoundment. This man really was a gold mine of information- he had seen so much and lived so many lives- and now he was giving a humble a taster of his incredible adventures? It was an offer too good to be true "Do you mind if I ask how you got the injuries?" He asked excitedly "I mean, if it's not classified information..."

Penance/Quicksilver
"Are you questioning the authority of a judge, kid?" Dredd clenched his teeth and stuck out his jaw. All these mutie kids were the same- no respect for the law. Joe didn't want a fight either- if a confrontation could be avoided, he would desperately try to do so. Unlike the rest of his brigade, he has never been the kind to shoot and ask questions later. However, when the law was being questioned like it was, it called for desperate measures "Im no cop, Robert- I'm a Judge- you're judge- and I'm giving you one last chance to come quietly before I have to become your sentencer"

It was at this point that the note came to Dredd's attention- complete with its Neo-sarcastic tone. How has he let the kid under his radar? Someone so fast even his honed eyesight couldn't keep up? He turned to face the grey-haired kid, half expecting him to throw a sarcastic grinning wave in his direction; so arrogant, so confident....perhaps it was a joke- a hoax designed to poke fun at the judge's name... Or maybe it was something more...

For now, the entertainment room could wait; the room was guarded like hell, and could protect the people inside from an armada or radioactive space monkeys if it needed to- it could take care of itself. For now he had a mutie and speeding teen to deal with

"You know what, kid?" Dredd growled, turning to Misogi once more. "You seem like a good citizen- the upstanding type. I have a job for someone like you- keep an eye on that grey haired kid. If he so much as sips his drink I want you to tell me...but keeps your eyes open at all times- he's a fast one"

Spike
"Lovely to meet you, Tats- you choose the name yourself?" Spike titled his head upwards towards Tattletale, maintaining eye contact as he spoke "Our only real names are the ones we select on our own- before I took a liking to torture they called me Ol' Edward the Bloody" Oh, how liquor loosens the tongue- for the first time in a long time, Spike was being totally honest with someone, to brutal effect. With any luck his slightly slurred words and joyful tone would cause his words to be written of a jokes, but that didn't seem to bother the Lonely One- he hadn't revealed anything the table club wouldn't have found out after a quick Google search, nor had he mentioned the fabled 'V Word'

"How did you get choose your one? A bit of a snitch in your time, perhaps? Oh, and if you feel like a drink, just drop my name to the bartender- her and I go wayyyyy back"

"The show?" Spike exclaimed "You mean that's not the reason you bloody showed up?" To be entirely honest, he had only really showed up because of the free food too; it was easy to catch a quick, quiet bite in a large, noisy crowd- it's the kind of place where nobody who vanishes is truly missed "The Maiden Voyage of the Heart of Gold- the Greatest Cruiser in the universe of some codswallop. Massive casinos, an indoor beach and am improbability generator's what I've heard"

"The toilet is the first room on your left- the one labeled TOILET in big bold writing" his words dropped with sarcasm like sap from a free. He gesture towards a dark, unlabelled door to his write. "The door's a bit stiff, so be careful"

(Mobile post)

 

[The Wanderer]

"Do you mind if I ask how you got the injuries?" He asked excitedly "I mean, if it's not classified information..."

[Venom]

"I don't mind." He could afford to let out a few details. Just not what really happened. "I got it in an explosion. Had extracted two comrades from enemy forces. Unfortunately, the enemy planted bombs in one. While torturing the other to the point of near comatose."

He said, staring off into the distance. As he remembered that night. "Say.....Have you ever heard of the mercenary known as Big Boss?" He chose his words and tone carefully. Making sure he sounded like he was about to tell a tall tale. Much like the soldiers that encountered him in Afghanistan or Africa, spreading the legend of Big Boss more so. He also looked around the lounge. Carefully taking note of everyone there. Just incase any of them were eavesdropping, or were possibly an XOF Agent in disguise.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Im no cop, Robert- I'm a Judge- you're judge- and I'm giving you one last chance to come quietly before I have to become your sentencer"

[Penance]
Penance would just stare at Joe. Eventually saying. "Fine......But, I am not going to give up this suit. Unlike some people. I want to be reminded of my failures." His words were dead serious. "And no handcuffs."

He would've told Joe that he wasn't going anywhere. Which would've most likely led to a fight. But, there were too many people there. And seeing as one teen managed to move that fast. He wouldn't take the risk.

He picked up his duffle bag. Putting it on him, carefully so any of the small spikes out on the outside of the chest piece didn't rip the straps.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The toilet is the first room on your left- the one labeled TOILET in big bold writing" his words dropped with sarcasm like sap from a free. He gesture towards a dark, unlabelled door to his write. "The door's a bit stiff, so be careful"

[Hei]

Hei looked to the door. Suspicion rising. A area where possibly he would be isolated from everyone else. And there wouldn't be bathroom in there. A perfect place for an ambush. "On second thought. I think I'll manage. Unless the show is too long. See you guys there." He smiled, giving them a wave as he stood up. Before walking to the door. After leaving the lounge, and giving the bouncer a friendly wave. He turned and headed to the board, looking for the Entertainment area. Finding the path to it. He walked to it. His expression cold and emotionless. He walked into the "Entertainment and Reenactments" area.

He looked to see if there was an area, where he could "change" without commotion.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Quicksilver]

"I did, to the point I was excused from class every time we raced. Just to give everyone else a chance." He once again gave her a wink. But, not a flirtatious one. But a "You know what I mean."

Quicksilver gave the police looking man a subtle nod. With a slight smirk.

"So, what does the Entertainment have for entertainment purposes. Like, only live action on stage, or movie theater style?" He said to Spike.

 

[Kaykay]

"You could say that, I felt like the name was fitting." She looked back at him as she spoke, twirling her hair on her finger idly as she did. "Names are for identification, so as long as everyone calls you it, it works out. I'm a snitch, as long as you give me the right price. I've got quite the wealth of information, after all." Her grin widened ever so slightly as she added that on.

Using her power, she began to attempt to gather information on Spike's personality, habits, and perhaps if he'd meant anything by his emphasis on the show being a blast. A bit of information on the show itself as well, provided there was enough information there. It didn't take any visible effort on her part, though, so nobody would have really known it was happening unless they could read minds.

"I'll keep your name in mind then, Spike. I just came here for a good time, but if the show's interesting I just might check it out!"

Turning back to Peter, she rested her hand, letting her hair fall back down over her shoulders. "Sure is sweet of you to give the other boys a chance like that." A vulpine smile crawled across her face, as if amused.

"You always been such a quick guy?"

---

"『 Huhuhu...』"

Kumagawa couldn't help but chuckle at Dredd's judgment of him. An upstanding citizen, huh? Funny, that was a first. Well, he'd hate to disappoint then, right?

"『It can't be helped, I'll go watch Mr. Quick Feet, then. Cya stripper, cop guy! 』"

With a chuckle and a wave, the boy shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk away. Someone who had that kind of speed, huh? Interesting, interesting. He'd have to go check it out for himself. Was there a secret to his speed, like manipulating time or space, or was he just quick on his feet? Time to find out. He headed to the VIP room.

Upon arriving, he came upon Tattletale, Quicksilver, and Spike. That Dredd guy said the gray-haired one, right? That meant it was the, er, well, guy with the gray hair. That was easy. He approached them with a cunning look in his eyes, as if he were up to something.

"『Hi there everyone, what's hanging? No corpses or anything, right? 』"

@Cromartie Sarkissian @The Wanderer​

 

[Mighty Roman]

Quill looked at the luggage spot and saw that his bags were gone. Somehow that didn't shock the Star Lord. If there was a misadventure in which things were going right, he was sure that he would be crazy and that was the truth. He approached the security guard. " So, excuse me, Mr. Guard? Do you have any clue where my bag was dragged away too?" He asked.

Cameron went to look for his bag while Quill dealt with his stuff.

Maxwell Lord looked at the man and tilted his head. What the hell was this Italian man babbling on about? " Sir, I believe you have me confused for someone else," he said.

@Cromartie Sarkissian @Minerva

The guard snapped out of his revelry. "Wherever you're not it appears. Tell me, why do we always carry things with us? If I had my way, we would be like Camels, carrying only water on our backs. Though because you're the Legendary Star-Lord, 'man', I'll play nice."

"You're a clever young man, so I'll cut you a break. You, Mr Quill, have won the special competition called 'the guards can't go on strike, lest they be released into the vacuum of space. So, they have to make their own fun.'"

"By that I mean, the contents of your luggage have either A) been kicked to death by disgruntled former poetry students, or B) been traded in at the local inebriation centre for drinks and peanuts in equal measure.

Alternately, 'Sir', we could give you a free lunchbox, or we could go on an epic, if forgettable sidequest to do with my celebrity likeness, and ever-changing face."

Spoiler

"What would you say to that?"
Despite the guard's animated words, his expression remained as vague as his appearance. Such was the life of an sidequest NPC.
@LuckycoolHawk9

 

[Cromartie Sarkissian]

[Venom]

"I don't mind." He could afford to let out a few details. Just not what really happened. "I got it in an explosion. Had extracted two comrades from enemy forces. Unfortunately, the enemy planted bombs in one. While torturing the other to the point of near comatose."

He said, staring off into the distance. As he remembered that night. "Say.....Have you ever heard of the mercenary known as Big Boss?" He chose his words and tone carefully. Making sure he sounded like he was about to tell a tall tale. Much like the soldiers that encountered him in Afghanistan or Africa, spreading the legend of Big Boss more so. He also looked around the lounge. Carefully taking note of everyone there. Just incase any of them were eavesdropping, or were possibly an XOF Agent in disguise.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Penance]
Penance would just stare at Joe. Eventually saying. "Fine......But, I am not going to give up this suit. Unlike some people. I want to be reminded of my failures." His words were dead serious. "And no handcuffs."

He would've told Joe that he wasn't going anywhere. Which would've most likely led to a fight. But, there were too many people there. And seeing as one teen managed to move that fast. He wouldn't take the risk.

He picked up his duffle bag. Putting it on him, carefully so any of the small spikes out on the outside of the chest piece didn't rip the straps.
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[Hei]

Hei looked to the door. Suspicion rising. A area where possibly he would be isolated from everyone else. And there wouldn't be bathroom in there. A perfect place for an ambush. "On second thought. I think I'll manage. Unless the show is too long. See you guys there." He smiled, giving them a wave as he stood up. Before walking to the door. After leaving the lounge, and giving the bouncer a friendly wave. He turned and headed to the board, looking for the Entertainment area. Finding the path to it. He walked to it. His expression cold and emotionless. He walked into the "Entertainment and Reenactments" area.

He looked to see if there was an area, where he could "change" without commotion.
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[Quicksilver]

"I did, to the point I was excused from class every time we raced. Just to give everyone else a chance." He once again gave her a wink. But, not a flirtatious one. But a "You know what I mean."

Quicksilver gave the police looking man a subtle nod. With a slight smirk.

"So, what does the Entertainment have for entertainment purposes. Like, only live action on stage, or movie theater style?" He said to Spike.

"You could say that, I felt like the name was fitting." She looked back at him as she spoke, twirling her hair on her finger idly as she did. "Names are for identification, so as long as everyone calls you it, it works out. I'm a snitch, as long as you give me the right price. I've got quite the wealth of information, after all." Her grin widened ever so slightly as she added that on.

Using her power, she began to attempt to gather information on Spike's personality, habits, and perhaps if he'd meant anything by his emphasis on the show being a blast. A bit of information on the show itself as well, provided there was enough information there. It didn't take any visible effort on her part, though, so nobody would have really known it was happening unless they could read minds.

"I'll keep your name in mind then, Spike. I just came here for a good time, but if the show's interesting I just might check it out!"

Turning back to Peter, she rested her hand, letting her hair fall back down over her shoulders. "Sure is sweet of you to give the other boys a chance like that." A vulpine smile crawled across her face, as if amused.

"You always been such a quick guy?"

---

"『 Huhuhu...』"

Kumagawa couldn't help but chuckle at Dredd's judgment of him. An upstanding citizen, huh? Funny, that was a first. Well, he'd hate to disappoint then, right?

"『It can't be helped, I'll go watch Mr. Quick Feet, then. Cya stripper, cop guy! 』"

With a chuckle and a wave, the boy shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk away. Someone who had that kind of speed, huh? Interesting, interesting. He'd have to go check it out for himself. Was there a secret to his speed, like manipulating time or space, or was he just quick on his feet? Time to find out. He headed to the VIP room.

Upon arriving, he came upon Tattletale, Quicksilver, and Spike. That Dredd guy said the gray-haired one, right? That meant it was the, er, well, guy with the gray hair. That was easy. He approached them with a cunning look in his eyes, as if he were up to something.

"『Hi there everyone, what's hanging? No corpses or anything, right? 』"

@Cromartie Sarkissian @The Wanderer​

Quill looked at the luggage spot and saw that his bags were gone. Somehow that didn't shock the Star Lord. If there was a misadventure in which things were going right, he was sure that he would be crazy and that was the truth. He approached the security guard. " So, excuse me, Mr. Guard? Do you have any clue where my bag was dragged away too?" He asked.

Cameron went to look for his bag while Quill dealt with his stuff.

Maxwell Lord looked at the man and tilted his head. What the hell was this Italian man babbling on about? " Sir, I believe you have me confused for someone else," he said.

@Cromartie Sarkissian @Minerva

Truth. Freedom. The American Way.

God Bless America.

Standing here, I realize you were just like me, tried to make history. But who's to judge to judge, no right from wrong, when our guard is down, I think we'll both agree that violence breeds violence, but in the end It Has To Be This Way.

Every man has to make a choice in this life. Live by the sword, or die by the blade. Make a realization that every man has to make his own history, change the world for how he wants it to be. Realize that to make America great again, you would going to have to break America. Realize that…

Realize that…

Realize… Why is it so dark?

It was dark as pitch, the place where he awoke, and the air was stale. The Senator tried to tried to flex his stiff muscles and discovered that he could not move.

The Senator was bound tight, his face covered. Both arms were lashed behind his back, and his feet were manacled. Even the rise and fall of his massive chest was restrained.

The rage grew inside him. From deep within his great chest, a low, muffled growl built to a mighty, defiant bellow. The sound in that echoed back seemed to suggest that he was enclosed in a small place, a room with metal walls.

Who had imprisoned him? Where was he, and how long had he been there? He did not know, nor did he care. All that mattered was that he be free.

The Senator began to thrash about wildly, and the bonds that held him began to creak and groan under the strain.

He would be free … oh yes! It would just be a matter of time …

A great metal container about the size of the size of a pickup bed rolled along the luggage tracks, stopping in front Judge Dredd and Penance. Carved on the outside, the marks consistent with those of a Katana, was 'Dangerous live cargo. Level three. Handle with care."

If someone had had nothing better to do, like say, watch grass grow, they might have noticed the outer wall of the container slowly deform; at first bowing outwards, then assuming the shape of a face. A few illegal immigrants hiding in the ship's luggage docks began worshiping the face as a manifestation of the Virgin Mother, then they realized that the Virgin Mother looked nothing like an a billionaire industrialist that wanted to become president and 'make America great again' by kicking out all the immigrants and giving everyone a gun and a license to kill.

It was very fortunate that technically Senator Steven Armstrong owned the company that had designed the containment device, otherwise Judge Dredd would have had to imprison Armstrong for destruction of property as he burst through the steel container like the Kool-Aid man, proudly declaring; "Nanomachines. Man's best friend."

As he thought back to how he had been imprisoned, that little Brazilian shit turning on him; how clenched his fist and desperately wished for a cigar. "Little fuck. Did you think you could keep me imprisoned in a little toy box? It was only a matter of time."

Patting himself down to make sure he didn't in fact have a cigar on him without realizing it, his eyebrows drew together as he pulled a card out of the back of his slacks. It was a picture of a sad puppy in the rain-only Sam would be so audacious and frankly, trollish (he didn't live in the right part of the multiverse to meet Crichton). Armstrong felt his nanomachines hardening in response to his pure, righteous fury. He'd been accepted into the cause as a brother in arms, and he'd betrayed him. He'd crush the foreign little fucker.

And he could do it. Sam couldn't have expected him to get out, that shell was made out of a metal supposedly even stronger than nanomachines. Only the spirit of freedom had kept him going.

Opening up the card, Sam's smooth Brazilian voice-it was one of those cheesy voice recording cards, like the kind Armstrong had gotten his secretary before he'd snapped her neck-rolled out; "Armstrong. You're free. That's truly a shame, though not a surprise. Let me guess, three months it took you to get out, no?"

Armstrong almost crushed the entire thing then.

"You're a crazy bastard Armstrong. I could have liked that about you, if you hadn't cut off my arm. Alas, I've found a new partner now. Truly too bad that we're going to save this world without you, and oh. By the time you hear this, the entire affair will be over. Come and kill me if you can Senator, unless you happen to get stuck in a interdimensional cruise, paid for courtesy of Wildcard Industries. Goodbye Senator, hope you survive the trip." The card cut off to the sounds of Sam singing the Que Sera Sera song.

Armstrong did crush the card then, and lit it on fire and threw it in frustration, not realizing that he'd thrown it straight into hair of one Joseph Dredd, Certified Badass and Hardass.

"Little fucker. I'm going take his little sword and shove it up his ass, then rip his head off and pull it all the way through."

True to his word though, there was a ticket attached, addressed to one Steven Armstrong, Professional Asshole. And Armstrong did need the time to recover. He'd been hammering at taking down the wall (which was a change for him, usually he tried building walls in this country) and his restraints for the entire three months, not taking a break to rest or sleep. Only his righteous fire-and nanomachines, son- kept him going. As it was however, he stepped off to go to the theater to watch a play about this Crichton character. Surely he was a brave, handsome, dashing space captain and not an idiot cripple with a hero complex and few friends.

Right?

Assuming of course that he didn't have to go into 'fuck the police' mode if Dredd started pursuing.​

The Waiter
"Geez! That's horrible" The waiter stated back towards the veteran, beating an expression akin to a deer in the headlights "Must've been real hard on them, their families, their insurance companies, you..." He cut his list short, in fear of his optimism and naivety treading on nerves
"Mercenaries? Sorry - I couldn't name a single mercenary, let alone anything about one!" The Waiter exclaimed, sighing as he searched his mind "This is nice part of the Galaxy- we don't have those kind of people here"

----
Dredd
"Fine by me, Kid- if you're coming quietly, I doubt I'll need to use them-" Dredd reattached his handcuffs to his belt, and kicked off the table, returning to his rigid, disciplined position. "I doubt knocking you out will do much good either" Esspecially considering the amount of pain Robert was putting himself through a this own accord.... He was hardly a flight risk

Then came the flaming card, courtesy of Ol' Ass-Strong.

An action he would surely and swiftly regret- the ignition of his grey scalp had just pushed Dredd from 'Obtuse Stickler" mode all the way up to "Obsessed Blood Hound" mode

Josesph span his head around towards Armstrong, the brightest fires of hell igniting in his eyes, dwarfing the light of his hair like a firework belittles a sparkler. His teeth were gritted, foaming a mad-dog infected with super-rabies. He was triggered- and shit was about to get serious

"YOU" He snarled towards Penence's, a titanium rod of a finger waving in the man's face. "YOU'VE VIOLATED 2 LAWS- CREATING A PUBLIC DISTURBANCE AND POSSESION OF ILLEGAL WEAPONRY, ESSPECIALLY IN A PUBLIC PLACE! YOU'LL BE GETTING SIX MONTHS CONCIOUS INCARCERATION MINIMUM!" Damn...he was going to regret this mere moments later...dealing with a criminal was one of the lower marks he could sink to...but desperate times called for desperate measures "BUT ILL BE WILLING TO PULL A FEW STRINGS AND SHORTEN YOUR SENTENCE TO 4...MAYBE EVEN 3 MONTHS" To be honest, the kid would be lucky to be sent to an asylum for a few centi-cycles if the Kyln did their back up checks properly, but he could at least give Robbie hope... "SEE THAT GUY? THAT CREEP TRYING TO PULL A RUNNER? HES VIOLATED AT LEAST 7 - ASSULT OF A FEDERAL OFFICE, DISGRACING AN AUTHOIRTY FIGURE, PUBLIC DISTURBANCES, ILLEGAL TRANSPORTATION AS MANY MORE" He gritted his teeth even tighter, in a strange concoction of self loathing and desperateness "HELP ME BRING HIM IN AND ALL HELP YOU GET YOU OUT"

He turned towards the strange boy "You- forget the speedster- we need to get the creep on the glasses"

Hoping for the two kids he had been harassing to find the 'goodness' in their hearts to betray a fellow passenger and help him peruse Armstrong into the Entertainment area, Dredd shifted his Peacemaker pistol into GP mode; he planned to shoot the damn criminal in the caps a quickly and quietly as possible-- he was quite clearly a loose cannon
---
Spike
"Have your then Hentai, or whatever your name was..." Spike mumbled, another wave of liquor reaching his head and drowning his better judgement and memory. He was now- well and truly, undeniably- wasted.

"Have fun holding in your piss for 3 hours" The half-demon whispered to himself once Hei had left earshot, a petty act of defiance by all accounts. He let out a small snigger into his glass, only for his laugher to chow out to its normal volume against the glass

"Well, if you go down to the re-enactments area, you'll find some good old fashioned stage-like acting. Throw the rotten fruit as you see fit. The main attraction is the Ship setting sail- that, my dear, is real life" His tone shifted to one of total sarcasm "Reality is the best stage- only the consumes are worse and the acting is crap....the CGI is better through"

Spike stated down the newcomer for several seconds, internally making every single judgement he could about the boys appearance; he was short, young and suspicious...the kind of company he was all too used to...well, all except the 'young' part of it- he was part of the over 200 crowd

Still, he felt as if he new the boy from somewhere. Everything he saw felt familiar- was it his hair? His clothing? Was Spike just that drunk? Or did all humans look the same to him? Probably all of the above
"Hmmmm...what's your name, kid...I think I've seen you before" He placed his stray to his chin in contemplation.

The Theater
Backstage
"The hell do you mean 'I've gotten you confused?" The overwieghth fellow growled as he dragged the group down the dusty, cramped back stage area "Maximillian Kell doesn't make mistakes- only millions. Besides- Id recognise that stupid haircut of yours a mile off" Max flicked the other Max across his forehead with his free hand, pushing his hairline backwards "To think with 100-odd hair stylists fussing over you you'd learn a thing or too about not putting too much hair gel across your face"

For Kell, time was money, and neither was worth wasting. He backstage area was barebones a result- not a dollar or an hour had been spent prepping the area into anything more than a dark, stinking mess of outfits and make up that would make your local fancy dress store weep. He pushed the group into the edge of the curtain. "Now, I hope y'all learned your lines, kids- because it's now or never. Curtain call in 5 mins- grab a costume and get warmed up"

Front Stage

Armstrong would find that the only free seat in "Keeping Up with the Crichtons" was in the very centre of the second balcony- a nice, expensive seat reserved for some rich count who had far better things to do that waste his time at the opening of the starship. The seating area was enormous- several kilometres in width- so much so that the minuscule figures acting had to be magnified through holograms for the people sitting in the back rows. A clock was projected onto the closed curtains reading "5;32" and counting down, presumably to the curtain call. An elderly ladies was waltzing about selling confectionary and handing out song scripts to all who entered the room- it was the perfect place to fade away, especially around all of the other stuff white politician types

Mobile post

 

[The Wanderer]

"YOU" He snarled towards Penence's, a titanium rod of a finger waving in the man's face. "YOU'VE VIOLATED 2 LAWS- CREATING A PUBLIC DISTURBANCE AND POSSESION OF ILLEGAL WEAPONRY, ESSPECIALLY IN A PUBLIC PLACE! YOU'LL BE GETTING SIX MONTHS CONCIOUS INCARCERATION MINIMUM!" Damn...he was going to regret this mere moments later...dealing with a criminal was one of the lower marks he could sink to...but desperate times called for desperate measures "BUT ILL BE WILLING TO PULL A FEW STRINGS AND SHORTEN YOUR SENTENCE TO 4...MAYBE EVEN 3 MONTHS" To be honest, the kid would be lucky to be sent to an asylum for a few centi-cycles if the Kyln did their back up checks properly, but he could at least give Robbie hope... "SEE THAT GUY? THAT CREEP TRYING TO PULL A RUNNER? HES VIOLATED AT LEAST 7 - ASSULT OF A FEDERAL OFFICE, DISGRACING AN AUTHOIRTY FIGURE, PUBLIC DISTURBANCES, ILLEGAL TRANSPORTATION AS MANY MORE" He gritted his teeth even tighter, in a strange concoction of self loathing and desperateness "HELP ME BRING HIM IN AND ALL HELP YOU GET YOU OUT"

[Penance]
"Yes sir." Penance gave a salute. As part of his "job" Robbie was required to follow any authority figure's order. So long as it didn't violate any set laws, or work against the US or SHIELD.

Personally, Robbie didn't care, but complaining or rejecting would only hinder him.

So, he walked over to the Entertainment area. Where he would scout for the big man with the glasses. And slightly wait for Joe. Just incase Joe wanted to be the one to make the arrest.
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"Geez! That's horrible" The waiter stated back towards the veteran, beating an expression akin to a deer in the headlights "Must've been real hard on them, their families, their insurance companies, you..." He cut his list short, in fear of his optimism and naivety treading on nerves
"Mercenaries? Sorry - I couldn't name a single mercenary, let alone anything about one!" The Waiter exclaimed, sighing as he searched his mind "This is nice part of the Galaxy- we don't have those kind of people here"

[Venom]
"It was horrible......" Venom said softly. Remembering that fateful day. The day that changed his life forever. Before he responded with. "Well. Big Boss was a legendary mercenary leader. He was literally a one man army. No matter the environment. No matter where the OP took place. Big Boss could maneuver his way, and survive for days there. Rumor has it, before he became a mercenary, he used to be called Naked Snake, due to how he would go in alone, with no gear, save for a camouflaged garb and knife. Forcing himself to either survive off of the land, or steal from the enemy." He made sure to make eye contact with the waiter. Afterall, that helped sell a story.
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[Hei]
As Hei looked around for a place to change into his gear. He quickly noticed a group of people being led backstage. An area where hopefully no one would bat an eye to him going to. Afterall, judging from the group, they didn't look like they were apart of the actual cast.

So, if anyone stopped him. He could just hope for the best, and simply say he was supposed to be backstage with the others.

Hei quickly made his way down the path that the man had led the group on. All the while making sure no one was following or had spotted him.

Once he had reached the area where the backstage started, he noticed how dark and filthy the place looked. Maybe this was a bad idea to come back here, but there was no turning back. So, as Hei was about to walk forward and hope for the best, he looked up, noticing a little space up above. Most likely for assistance with something. A perfect place to change without no one noticing. So, he quickly took off his backpack, opening it and reaching inside. Grabbing the belt that held his wires. Taking it out and putting it on. He zipped up the backpack, putting it back on before reaching to his belt. Pulling out a wire, he threw up above. Waiting til the wire wrapped itself around a railing. He pressed a button on the belt, causing it to retract the wire, which caused Hei to slowly climb upward.

Once he was safe and secure. He once again took off the backpack, opening it up. This time, completely. The sight of his mask almost grinning due to the angle he was looking at it from, greeted him. He pulled it out, laying it to the side. Before reaching in once more. Grabbing one of his trench coats that were neatly folded in small squares. Most people would've asked how it was possible. The truth was, they were so flexible that Hei once folded one of his coats into a square, putting it into his pocket.

He also pulled out a black long sleeve shirt, with black pants, and black shoes. After that, he pulled out a pair of gloves, a harness and two double edged knives. The harness had two sheathes for said knives, and could be angled to the point it would look like Hei didn't even have them hidden under his coat, and it wouldn't hinder him when he needed them.

Putting the clothes on, and putting the knives into their respective sheathes. Hei placed his "civilian" clothes into the backpack. And just as he was about to leave the backpack up there, a thought came to mind. What if someone found it? Or what if he was making his way to it, and as he would be changing someone would see him, or at least be smart enough to connect the dots together. So, with some reluctance. He put the backpack on. Though, he tightened the strap so it wouldn't block his movement or prevent him from getting one of his knives.

Now geared up. He climbed about til he was in a position where he could almost see the stage, the backstage and some of the seats. He could try to see more of the seats and the rest of the theater, but that would require him to lean out and possibly expose him. Afterall, a white mask with a red line and purple lightning bolt over the right eye do stand out. So, he just maintained his position. He couldn't help but get this feeling something was going to happen soon. Though, what it was, and when it was going to happen were unknown to him....
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Turning back to Peter, she rested her hand, letting her hair fall back down over her shoulders. "Sure is sweet of you to give the other boys a chance like that." A vulpine smile crawled across her face, as if amused.

"You always been such a quick guy?"

[Quicksilver]
"Yeah. Always been fast since I was little. Though, back then I didn't really have control over it." It was a half truth. He could control to a certain level. But, back then, he couldn't even begin to pull off the type of stuff he could do.....Without getting sick. That and wrecking the glass door. "What about you? No offense. But, doesn't that get uncomfortable?" He gestured to the skintight suit. His tone wasn't a mocking one, it was a curious one. In all honestly, he considered making a suit so he when he ran, his jeans wouldn't tear. Though, that problem was solved with the grey leather pants he was wearing now. But, back to the point. He decided against the suit, as he would not only have to get the right materials that wouldn't tear when going at fast speeds. But, then he'd have to design it, make it. Basically a hassle.

[Do let me know if the part with Hei is not 'good' and I will make edits.]

 

[LuckycoolHawk9]

The guard snapped out of his revelry. "Wherever you're not it appears. Tell me, why do we always carry things with us? If I had my way, we would be like Camels, carrying only water on our backs. Though because you're the Legendary Star-Lord, 'man', I'll play nice."

"You're a clever young man, so I'll cut you a break. You, Mr Quill, have won the special competition called 'the guards can't go on strike, lest they be released into the vacuum of space. So, they have to make their own fun.'"

"By that I mean, the contents of your luggage have either A) been kicked to death by disgruntled former poetry students, or B) been traded in at the local inebriation centre for drinks and peanuts in equal measure.

Alternately, 'Sir', we could give you a free lunchbox, or we could go on an epic, if forgettable sidequest to do with my celebrity likeness, and ever-changing face."
Show Spoiler

"What would you say to that?"
Despite the guard's animated words, his expression remained as vague as his appearance. Such was the life of an sidequest NPC.

" Let's get this damn forgettable sidequest out of the way. I want my stuff. Let's go guardy."

Cameron was still looking for his bag among the mess.

@Mighty Roman

The hell do you mean 'I've gotten you confused?" The overwieghth fellow growled as he dragged the group down the dusty, cramped back stage area "Maximillian Kell doesn't make mistakes- only millions. Besides- Id recognise that stupid haircut of yours a mile off" Max flicked the other Max across his forehead with his free hand, pushing his hairline backwards "To think with 100-odd hair stylists fussing over you you'd learn a thing or too about not putting too much hair gel across your face"

For Kell, time was money, and neither was worth wasting. He backstage area was barebones a result- not a dollar or an hour had been spent prepping the area into anything more than a dark, stinking mess of outfits and make up that would make your local fancy dress store weep. He pushed the group into the edge of the curtain. "Now, I hope y'all learned your lines, kids- because it's now or never. Curtain call in 5 mins- grab a costume and get warmed up"

Maxwell Lord was not happy about the situation that he was gotten into and that was going to make him crazy. He didn't like being flicked across the headline and he took pride on being careful. He wasn't sure what was going to happen, but he turned to the others. " Do you have any fucking clue what is going on?" He asked.

@Cromartie Sarkissian

 

[Kaykay]

[Quicksilver]
"Yeah. Always been fast since I was little. Though, back then I didn't really have control over it." It was a half truth. He could control to a certain level. But, back then, he couldn't even begin to pull off the type of stuff he could do.....Without getting sick. That and wrecking the glass door. "What about you? No offense. But, doesn't that get uncomfortable?" He gestured to the skintight suit. His tone wasn't a mocking one, it was a curious one. In all honestly, he considered making a suit so he when he ran, his jeans wouldn't tear. Though, that problem was solved with the grey leather pants he was wearing now. But, back to the point. He decided against the suit, as he would not only have to get the right materials that wouldn't tear when going at fast speeds. But, then he'd have to design it, make it. Basically a hassle.

"Very neat power you've been born with, huh? Though, to answer your question, not at all! It's actually quite comfortable." Tattletale flashed him a grin. "A friend made it for me. Resists bullets, cuts, it's comfortable, and it's machine washable." With her power of intuition, she could tell he was perhaps somewhat interested in the suit.

"I think you could rock the skintight look, don't you?"
​

Spike stated down the newcomer for several seconds, internally making every single judgement he could about the boys appearance; he was short, young and suspicious...the kind of company he was all too used to...well, all except the 'young' part of it- he was part of the over 200 crowd

Still, he felt as if he new the boy from somewhere. Everything he saw felt familiar- was it his hair? His clothing? Was Spike just that drunk? Or did all humans look the same to him? Probably all of the above
"Hmmmm...what's your name, kid...I think I've seen you before" He placed his stray to his chin in contemplation.

Kumagawa didn't seem to have minded much as Dredd asked for him to change targets. Maybe if he got bored, but for now he was already here. Might as well just keep rolling along.

"『David Bowie. ...Just kidding, I'm Misogi Kumagawa. Sorry, but I don't think I've ever seen you before.』"

He gave a shrug as if to say "Oh well."

​