The New Age | IC

[Lulunopia]

Sign - Ups | Character Index | IC​

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New York - New York | 4:23p.m | July 4, 2005
78F | Light wind | Mostly sunny​

It's little over mid day in New York, everyone's getting off work or going into work. Rush hour. The perfect time for evil to strike. In a small warehouse the deserted parts of town meets the infamous group Viper. There leader Scorpion has a special announcement about a new project he's finished.

Meanwhile all hero's are living unaware of the evil that is to come. Though they have finally decided to meet. An unknown hero has gathered them together in hopes of finding out who Viper really is. At this meeting they agree to follow a leader, the one who called them here.

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Mentions: Members of Viper
Interactions: Whoever shows up
Outfit: Here

Mid day in New York is a bustling mess full of people rushing home from a long day's work. Unaware of the plotting happening on the far side of town in an old abandoned warehouse. There in the center stood a man with slicked back hair wearing a costume that belonged to one of the most powerful villains in the world, Scorpion. His unmistakable green and black clothes shown in the mid day light. Today the mayor is having a gala in honor of the hero's saving New York. A smirk came to his lips. It's the perfect time to strike.

Sebastian looked around making sure the room was empty before taking a dagger and cutting his palm. His poisonous blood came out in little drops. Waving his hand the blood lifted into the air. A devilish smirk came to his lips. What better way to find if anyone followed him, which he doubted, than with his own poison. As the poison raised into the air he let it zip around hitting off many surfaces till it moved outside. Using his senses he mad sure to hit anything that even moved, till he sensed some of his minions coming closer. Letting the poison drop to the ground he wrapped his hand in a bandage.

Looking around he waited for his minions to arrive so he may tell them the spectacular news. The gala will have many rich and powerful individuals in it, the perfect time to let the world know who they really are. Movement to his left caught his attention. He giving a sly smile he spoke, voice cutting through the air, "And which on of my lovely member's has shown up early?"

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@Dante @Jinx @Cosmic Penguin @Shizuochan @Grumpypants @~Dark Disney~ @Mars Walker @Shayla @winnie @WickedlyLurking @Mysty @Weaver @Mocha Kitty @CasketCase @Angelic Fusion​

 

[Weaver]

Sam fought against the urge to pry her eyes open. She knew she had lost her grip on the unconscious world, but made the futile effort to will herself back to sleep. Asleep, she would not know how cold the cement floor was, or feel the rumbling in her stomach. Asleep, she could create and destroy an infinite tapestry of fantastical gadgets and circuits. But her phone buzzed again, gently nudging her toward the waking world.

Her brow furrowed as she shifted her position to relieve the pressure on her tailbone, emitting a quiet grunt with the effort. She put her palm flat against the cement and ignored the sudden shock of cold long enough to straighten herself into a mostly-sitting position, then began negotiations with her eyelids. The sunlight striking her squarely in the face meant it was not time for her to be awake yet, but her clients were awfully specific about times and places. She resolved to put a nocturnal schedule clause in the next contract, then huffed a half-laugh at the irony. Criminals did not often leave that kind of paper trail, after all. Well...not the kinds of criminals she kept pace with.

The phone buzzed again and she flipped it open, her thumb drifting lazily to the "dismiss" button. With that irritant sorted out, the next order of business was to fuel up for a hard day of cloaks and daggers. Her messenger bag produced two types of fruit and nut muffins, a juice box, and a multivitamin tablet; hardly gourmet cuisine, but enough to stave off malnutrition. She ate absently, almost ignorant of the activity, preferring instead to focus her attention on her laptop.

Wireless networks could be unreliable, especially in a building which amounted to a massive slab of stone and a metalwork structure which could pass for a crude Faraday Cage, but she had already resolved that problem with a signal relay mounted on the roof. Her connection seemed stable, for the moment, so she munched her way through her morning -that is to say midnight- routine. All her favorite online haunts seemed quiet for anything which would have drawn her notice, but there seemed to be some noise about increased activity within a few notable organizations. Sam passively noted that these groups had been carefully avoided in the past, out of respect for the fact she wanted to keep her diet as lead-free as possible.

"Gonna be a fun day," she mused. She shut down the computer and pulled both its network card and battery, then stowed them in their proper place in her bag. A quick check of her belongings gave her the green light to start her day. As she left the rotting husk of her current "home", Sam resolved to stick to the shadows today. Something felt...amiss. It put her on edge, and that was a feeling she did not enjoy.

 

[Aero Blue]

Arthur Shelby Drinkwater's head hurt.

He paced the assembly spot of New York's various capes and cowls, pinching the bridge of his nose and the bags beneath his eyes, as it any of that would alleviate the issues at hand. Too many people, with all their voices, and asymmetry, and their incongruence. Even the shining costume of Galahad - his hero name - proved problematic on this day; his power of 'item augmentation' came with the side-effect of a constant glow, more bronze than gold. He caught the ambient shimmer of his armor-like costume, saw the lighting render his reflection a large shining mote, and furrowed his brow at the abrasiveness of it all.

Still, there was a necessity to all these pains and troubles. As irritating as the cacophony of others could be, it was crucial to stay informed, to know what street matters required ones attention and vigil. And besides, protection work for the gala paid too well by far. He would just have to grin and bear it all, for the interim.

He turned his attention towards one of the refreshment tables, and instantly realized how troublesome being in this place would be. The arrangement of New York bagels by now had been rendered haphazard, as some of them had been taken - a piece of salmon had been folded inelegantly on one of the breaded rings, and a trail of capers fell from the plate and snaked across the tablecloth. Perhaps most egregiously of all, the cake was off-center.

He felt a vein pulse and twitch along his temple, as his mind scurried to course-correct. He could simply move the cake, but where would the other entrees go? His mind obsessively shuffled through the various permutations of table-arrangement, before deciding that there was a cleaner solution: he would find whichever damned attendant placed this cake, and he would smash the cake in that man's face. It would be inelegant, for a time - what with the hapless attendant being smeared with cream and chocolate, but the attendant, mess firmly plastered upon his visage, would simply have to leave the premises forever, and the problem would be solved.

In the interim, however, he settled for picking the stray capers off the tablecloth.

 

[Jinx]

[fieldbox="Seraphim, #242424, solid, 10"]

Mentioned : Caito
Interaction : Arthur

Humming idly to herself, Charlie tugged on the wide collar of her costume. The thick purple fabric bended to her will as she moved it into a more comfortable position. She had ben fiddling with her costume for the last few minutes as she searched for familiar faces in the crowd around her. The room was filled with heroes, causing her to feel a bit claustrophobic as she tried to make her way to the edge of the room. This feeling quickly passed though, as she knew that being a hero tonight was far more important than her being uncomfortable. Her pale fingers fell from the fabric of her costume to rest against her hips as she gazed around the room once more.

Her stormy grey eyes peered out from underneath the intricate black mask that hid her identity. There were few who didn't know her outside of her alter-ego, Seraphim, as she was usually the first person that injured heroes went to for quick, effective, and confidential care. Heroes couldn't simply go to a normal hospital, as their secret identities would be at risk.It wasn't surprising when a masked crusader would show up at her door, or in one instance break through her window, at any hour of the night for her to fix them up. The bags under her eyes were covered by makeup, as she had spent the night up with a hero who had a nasty encounter with a few bank robbers, trying to safely remove the two bullets in his shoulder with as much care as she could. She had sent him home with a healed shoulder and orders to rest the next day. She only wished that she took her own advice and slept through the day to prepare for the gala.

Charlie rolled her shoulder slowly, the two scars on her shoulder almost having disappeared by now. The cost of healing someone was a price that she was always willing to pay, although it was a pain every now and again. As she stood at the edge of the group, she couldn't help but feel her mind drift. Someone had been on her mind for the past few weeks, stealing her attention when she had time to herself. He was like a puzzle that she couldn't find a solution to, no matter how many times she put the pieces together. It both frustrated and fascinated her to no end.

Her thought process was interrupted by her seeing someone stare intently at the refreshments table. Charlie's expression turned confused as she wondered what the table did to him to make him look at it in a such a way. Tentatively Charlie made her way over to the table and stood next to the man with her arms resting loosely behind her back. Her fingers brushed against the metal cylinder that rested at the small of her back, the button to extend it into a full baton facing away from her.

"Everything alright over here?" Charlie questioned, her tone pleasant and conversational. Her hand reached forward to grab one of the small chocolate mints that rested in a small pyramid in front of her. As she tossed it into her mouth, she couldn't help but smile at the taste. Mint and chocolate had to be one of her favorite combinations. "I'm very grateful that they gave us food. I was worried that I would be hungry all night." She offered him friendly smile before she looked around the room again. "So many familiar faces. It's odd seeing them in the same room."
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[Mook-LandStrider]

Doctor Cipherous
Anti-Hero

Flickering lights and an audible music filled the room. A single figure filled the void, next to him a table and on that table, an array of instruments. Across the room a man was tied to a chair. Waking slowly the man began to stir. Feeling like a sack of bricks hit him he leaned back ever so slowly. How much did he have to drink? Fuck, was it dark. Squinting his head began to scream at the noise of the music. His senses heightened, the normally quiet music was almost unbearable. "Fuck, turn that shit off." he grumbled.

The Doctor

The figure stopped its movements and turned its head towards him. Trying to move his hands he finally got the ability to move his head back. Looking down it was then that he noticed that his hands were bound to the chair. "Hey, what the fuck is th-" A blow to the face silenced him and sent his head spinning once more. Eyes blurring he once more began to slip into unconciousness.

"Time to wake up, Mr. Freeman." The figure said as he felt a cold jolt shoot through his system. Jolting up he looked around. "What the fuck!" The he yelled, as awake as a meth addict on a binge. "What! Oh fuck you! You-" The figure kickd him in the chest, the chair didn't budge at all. Gurgling he began to lul his head around. Finally, the man reached out and grabb his head. Turning it to face him the figures features came into view "Who th-"

"Sssspeak, where are they being held." the figure spoke, the voice mechanical, yet menacing and wheezing. Muscles not responding the man was unable to recoil. "I dont kno-" he was cut off immediately by a sharp pain in the back. The hyperdermic needle pierced his back and sent a wave of agony sweeping through his body. Eyes lulling back he felt another pulse go through him as another needle pierced his neck.

"You do not sssleeepp. You will speak. Where are they being held." The figure pressed. Shaking his head the man began to laugh. "What, are you some kind of freak. You are a dead man." He spoke laughing. The figure approached and knelt down infront of him. Getting a good look at the features of the figure, he felt a surge of fear pass through him.

Standing the figure kicked him "You've pissed youself. Disgusting, you do not deserve to live." The figure spoke, the mechanical nature making the speech emotionless. Going to the table the figure remove two instruments. "You. Will. Speak." The figure said approaching once more. Trying to recoil he couldn't feel anything. He felt sensation but was powerless.

"The brain, it is lovely... there are so many places that hold the key parts of who we are. Such as personality... held within the prefrontal cortex. Now, there is a place." The figure began to say. Unable to move he watched the figure lean over him. The glow from the lenses of the mask now consuming his view. Feeling something entering the side of his eye, he began to stiffen. "Stop... I..." he stammered.

The figure didn't stop. Continuing the figure finally ceased "There is not much bone between this area and the brain... Do not move... we must be very careful now.". Mind screaming he finally broke "Fine! My phone, the code to get in is Mario." he spoke causing the figure to pull back. Picking up his phone the figure entered the word and then tossed the phone onto the table. "Very well, you may rest." the figure said before driving the pick in with a small hammer.

The lobotomy was over within a second. Pulling back Doctor Cipherous reeled up and stretched. The classical music of Bach played in the background. The man, now just staring ahead began to move his head. Like a drugged up psych patient he just stared. Cipherous turned from him and placed the tools back into their place. Rolling the instruments up he placed them into the bag and picked it up. Leaving the room he pushed the door open and strolled out.​

 

[Mundane Monster]

This was lovely. Even if she wasn't able to take human form, Juniper still enjoyed this event. This was probably the most exciting people watching she'd ever done. Or should she even call it that? People watching was so peaceful, so predictable. These were heroes! One of the most exciting beings to watch. Some of them exuded confidence while others seemed to curl in on themselves clearly wanting to dance in the shadows as they tended to do. Then there were some who regarded others with an air of disdain. Juniper was drawn to ones like that who thought they were worthy of being in the room as opposed to others who they deemed 'lesser'. She was one of them by the way--One of the 'lesser'. If she had a dollar for every time a big time hero glowered at her shimmering gaseous form, she'd be able to buy the new Doctor Who series all at once instead of buying episodes on Google every once in awhile.

She had to admit that even she had been surprised that she'd been invited to attend this meeting. She hadn't thought that vigilantes like her who often encroached on law enforcement jurisdiction would be regarded as worthy. "I suppose I've been doing something, right." She said to herself, her voice a chorus of whispers. A woman who looked like holiday gift wrap jumped and shot her an reproachful look. Juniper smiled sheepishly (even though the woman couldn't see it), "My apologies." The whispers informed the woman, fading away and Juniper floated to another spot in the room. She tended to avoid speaking in her night form because her vocie--or rather voices, could be quite startling to people, but being in this new environment that just so happened to be immune to the call of the cosmos, excited her and she temporarily lost her usual cool composure.

As she floated, Juniper noticed the refreshment table and one of the most irritating characteristics of her night form reared its ugly, hungry head. Even though this technically wasn't a solid form, she still got hungry in it. When she was younger and training with Juliette, eating in this form fascinated Juliette but she had been kind enough not to stare. Juniper doubted the other heroes in the room would adopt this mindset, but she was terribly hungry so she would just have to suffer any strange looks she received.

Using her powers, Juniper quickly snagged an everything bagel and tossed it into her form. Instead of falling through her and onto the floor, the bagel stayed paralyzed in the middle of her form and bit by bit the delicious carb began to disintegrate inside of her.

Interactions: Random Hero NPCs, anyone near refreshment table

 

[Aero Blue]

It was an inevitability at events like these, although there was always a dread to it. The approach of others, voices piercing the permeable layer of silence.

Seraphim, at the very least, was a palatable intrusion. She was a hero who performed a vital function, an essential cog that ensured the steady motion of clockwork. Even that gaudy golden beam of hers, rewiring frayed arteries and broken bone, cleaning up the mess of viscera and blood - restoring order to a chaotic system of arterial spray and fractal fractures. If there was anyone that could come close to safety from Galahad's neurosis, it was her. The angel, the healer.

Still, watching the pyramid of chocolate mints unravel was a sharp, unwelcome pain.

"I'm all good, Seraphim." There was a hint of rigidity in the momentary, lingering pauses between each word, although they were crafted and announced in rehearsed joviality, "But trust me, if one of these capers mortally wound me, you'll be the first to know."

He began to internally rehearse his response to the subject of 'familiar faces', before his attention was turned to the lady of stardust. She, too, almost barely escaped Arthur's neuroses, such was the shimmering congruency of her cloudy form. Yet the idea of it, the bagel disintegrating, surrounded by a rending mire of grainy particulate, all those various traces and specks...

It hurt to think about, and only the imagined image of the hero's particles disseminating into nothingness - pulled away, perhaps, by a black hole - seemed to provide suitable relief.

"Nomad," Arthur gave her a nod of acknowledgement and greeting, even a halfway invitation to join them in conversation - although he didn't press the point - before turning back to Seraphim.

"Gatherings like this - they usually signal some kind of change. It'll get all messy, people will get loud, frantic, chaotic, and then we'll settle down until the next meet. At least, that's what I know of change; messes, cleaned up until someone spills again."

@Cosmic Penguin @Jinx

 

[Weaver]

Sam's mode of transport left a great deal to be desired. She considered subways a mortal enemy, what with all the wheezing, sweaty animals known as people jammed together into an overlarge sardine can, hurtling down an enclosed concrete tube at who-knew-what speeds. Her mind instantly took that thought down a side road, skewing off into the tangent of she actually did know what speeds, and set about calculating them against the per capita mass; averaged, of course, because what are we, cavemen? Taxis were even worse. They stunk of cigar smoke and vomit...or worse...and the driver insisted on revealing the remarkably unremarkable tapestry of his life-story as he recklessly dodged in and out of traffic. Sam wondered -genuinely- if taxi drivers were even required to take road tests. Sam was, therefore, relegated to walking. Even as all these thoughts competed for her attention, she snapped back to reality as her shoulder collided with that of a tall man in a tailored suit.

The impact jarred her more mentally than physically. It was a harsh reminder that the real world was unpredictable and chaotic; that "bad things" happened, and there wasn't any method known to control them. This existential crisis threatened to send her down another such tangent, but she could hear some kind of murmuring sound which pulled her attention back -once again- to reality. She began to realize that this background noise was indeed an apology, and it was emanating from the tall man.

"It's fine." She replied automatically. The initial upset came from the fact she had been exposed to an unexpected stimulus, not that she had collided with another person. There was an awkward silence in the middle of that crosswalk, during which the man seemed to be temporarily broken. The truth was that he was searching for the appropriate etiquette to respond to her flat, emotionless reassurance. Finding none, he forced a smile and urged her to be wary of traffic.

"Taxi drivers, am I right?"

Sam just stared. Taxis did not use crosswalks. The man was talking nonsense. What combination of syllables would make it go away? She settled for a nod of agreement and breezed past him. There was an odd spike of heat in her chest which trickled through her limbs. It tingled. She recognized the feeling immediately as adrenaline, and dismissed it as the failings of the flesh.

Sam hated adrenaline. It cropped up most frequently when it was least welcome, much like humans. And, perhaps most like humans of any stimulus in existence, it carried with it a tremendous cost and offered nothing useful in return. It made her shaky and weak. It made her mind freeze up and question every possible course of action. It made her stupid.

In the recent past, adrenaline had been a frequent pairing with her steady diet of danger and delinquency. She had managed to fight through it, for the most part, but it still had its effects. She was not "immune", but..."practiced" might be the right word. It felt like an old friend, or an older enemy; something she knew; something she could measure, quantify, predict...but not define. She decided it was easier to avoid it altogether, but it still forced its way into her life at the most inopportune of times.

Sam again snapped back to reality, observing that she had traveled four blocks without altering her course. She ducked into a Radio Shack and clicked on her IR array to baffle the cameras she knew they would have trained on the entrance and exit. Maintaining a steady course and speed was the easiest way to be tracked, and even easier still, to identify your destination.

"Welcome to Radio Shack!" The counter clerk began his practiced and tired script. "We've got a special on mobile phone contracts this week. We'll buy you out of your contract if you sign with one of our sponsors. Do you wan-"

Sam shot the man a sharp look and shut him down instantly. She didn't realize she was staring. To make the situation less awkward, she reached out and plucked a package of resistors from a peg hook and tore her eyes away from him to read the label. These components were not immediately useful, but they would shut him up and kill suspicion. She took them to the counter and produced a crumpled wad of small bills.

"That's, uh...ten twenty-three..." the clerk ventured carefully. He took the bills and reached for Sam's change, but she was already gone. The receipt hadn't even finished printing, nor had the back door fully closed.

 

[Dante]

Caito...he slipped away again. His attack on Federal Building of Disease and Chemical Research earlier that day had taken a great toll on Michael's mind. The Hero known as Gale had been a popular recognized hero for some time and he was sure it gave the man a great deal of pleasure to escape from him this time. The attack had brought quite a bit of news coverage and even worse a few more lives lost for whatever selfish operation he was going after. A few security guards, all having families and goals of their own had lost their lives in an instant against his rival and the only Villain he truly held a personal vendetta against currently. Besides Viper themselves but by this point he was nearly certain they had some connection. This was not his pattern. This was not his calling. Someone else was directing him. His once great friend and soon to be brother in law.

Pushing those thoughts aside as he stood on top of the building where the Gala was to be held, looking off to the government building adjacent to it where the heroes were gathering. Time to make his appearance. Putting on his mask as it suction out the air within before allowing proper air passage in and out. His daughter was currently with his sister Sara and should be having her homework finished up by now. Hopefully if this all went smoothly he could tuck her in tonight and enjoy the small portion of time he was often not allowed or gifted with. A slight sorrow holding to his mind which bridged his thoughts to the longing memories of the one he missed more than he ever could say...

Walking into the government building the guards inside and out allowed him through without any issue. He was easily recognizable and the one good friend he did trust in the Government had helped this meeting form smoothly and took a lot off of his shoulders. This would be the beginning of something better. Something to organize against Viper before they really became something no single hero could handle on his own.

Opening the door, behind which held numerous voices of conversation and people gathered around with an untold blessing of gifts. People that actually used these amazing abilities to help others except themselves and make differences in the world around them. As the door shut behind him most of those within stopped and turned their gazes while he looked over each of them. " Glad to see mostly everyone showed up. We are missing a few people I know are planning to make it." He said before catching the looks of a few heroes he had worked with in the past. Galahad's hand had worked his power on the plates of armor hidden in Gale's costume in the sleeves and neck of his jacket as well as over his legs under his pants. As well as the reinforcing of his helmet. They had worked together in numerous occasions and was happy to see he came to be a part of the party. They would need it. Nomad also making it was a pleasure, he had not worked alongside her on too many occasions but she would make a great hero and had already proven so in his eyes.

Amongst them he also saw a hero he knew personally. Charlie was a close friend and effective "God Mother" of his little girl. They had talked previously to this so her being here was expected but still welcomed. The heroes here were all people he trusted to be true heroes to the core and had the will to stand up against a growing threat. Those that labeled themselves as Anti-heroes could not be trusted nor held the same drive and sense of justice Michael would appreciate. Although he had been working on one possible addition should she prove trustworthy.

Lastly he knew Alder, another close personal friend and hero of his was to arrive but for now he could get things rolling.

"I am pleased to know most heard and came here to the message I sent out. You all were brought together in face of the growing threats around the city and the country well...in general. Villains are organizing and we need to do the same to some extent. For now The Mayor asked me personally for some assistance with the Gala next door" he said putting his hand up as a hero looked ready to speak. "He will come with more details to tonight's work. But tonight is just the start to what we all will be working towards. If you all desire to stay after all I tell you than I can give you more information. We will soon have a permanent facility and then well....it will be great to see all that we will be able to accomplish. Lastly though.." He said with his tone coming out more serious and down to the point. "Some of you have not all been focused on tasks such as confronting villains directly, I just want any heroes that normally deal with disasters, fires and other kinds of work to be aware and prepared of dealing with those with their own abilities that personally want to end your life for the smallest and most disgusting selfish enjoyment of power. That is all..I wanted to remain lighthearted but you all need to know as much info you can about all of this." He said with those still looking at him with a mix of emotions and thoughts to which he chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry for the speech. Don't worry it's over for now." He said before moving out of the way of the door and answering a few questions and talking to a few heroes he had worked with on numerous occasions.

@Grumpypants @Shizuochan @Shayla @Jinx @Cosmic Penguin @Lulunopia @Weaver​

 

[Mocha Kitty]

There were few places in the city to offer a true refuge from life, and none that came close to providing an atmosphere like The Raven café. A small establishment in a less reputable part of town, it was easy to miss if you didn't know it was there. Ceiling to floor bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes old and new, the chairs were a mismatch of designs, ages and colours, but all soft, comfortable and somehow fitting in with their surroundings. It was dark, even now in the summer, just light enough to read and to let the crotchety sixty-something woman who owned the shop to sort out any untoward 'canoodling'.
Molly was curled up on her usual high-backed chair towards the back of the store, a well loved copy of 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' resting in one hand, a large mug of steaming coffee in front of her. The Cure played somewhere softly in the background. She afforded herself a small smile - this was the closest she got to content these days.

"You look comfy." The voice that broke through Molly's reverie was familiar, if not particularly welcome. Amelia placed her mug down on the table and plopped down onto a small couch. The blonde watched her friend for a moment or two, and on confirmation that she was being ignored, rolled her eyes and tossed a rolled up magazine at her friend. "Thought you might get a kick out of reading that, with the day that's in it,"
Molly finally glanced up from her book to look at her friend with a raised eyebrow, placing her book on the arm of the chair and slowly reaching for the magazine with a small sigh. "What day?"
"Some hero celebration thing. I knew you're such a big fan..."
"A real fucking comedian you are," Molly growled, but began flicking through none the less. Amy probably had hero-themed bikini pics in it again, or...

Her pallid cheeks began to colour as she found the article her friend had undoubtedly bought this for. It was an article on disgraced heroes from days gone by, with a photo of her 20 year old self headlining the article. She was skinnier then, almost scrawny beneath her costume. She beamed up at her future self, having just told that she was going to make a real difference as a hero one day. As a doctor one day. Cheeks reddening even further, she flicked through the paragraphs quickly - the author questioned if she had been punished for her powers or her sexuality, perhaps both? So little was understood of both at the time, and it was a disgrace that she should remain a pariah. Molly scoffed audibly - it was far from a piece of investigative journalism, more the opinion piece of an aspiring writer looking to be edgy or something. A glance at the cover - a small publication that aimed itself mainly at the so called alternative crowd - confirmed her suspicions. When she looked to the blonde again, she looked crestfallen.

"I thought it might cheer you up a little. You know, there's more than just me that thinks that you should be there tonight too."
Molly opened her mouth to snap, but found herself closing it again. Amy tried so hard, and had stuck by her for so long - she felt bad for getting angry at her. She sighed, resting her head in one hand and reaching to squeeze Amy's arm with the other. "Yeah," She murmured softly, "You mean well, I know. But that's dragging shit up that doesn't want to be dragged up. I moved on, hun. Had to."
The water manipulator began to argue back, and the old debate reignited. Amy thought she'd given up too easily all those years ago, and even now it was a black and white issue. If only she knew the full story.The full story that was waiting on to text back. With a gala planned for the evening... No harm in checking in. She opened her cell and shot off a quick message to a certain healer she knew might be going.

look after urself 2nite, k? Mx

 

[Mundane Monster]

Oh how Mathias enjoyed holidays. Especially ones that brought people's relatives to town! Lovely outsiders--often two steps from the grave--who always without fail, found themselves drawn to his shop. Elderly tourists loved antiques after all and though dolls weren't their biggest source of interests, they did tend to splurge on the furniture he had. And on occasion these elders brought their grandchildren who often remained plastered against the wall, faces twisted into pouts as their caretakers repeatedly gave them the history of objects they didn't give a damn about. This made Mathias ponder on expanding his business. The bookshop next door had gone out of business and the rental office had informed him that it was now on sale for a meager price. Mathias would be able to open a toy shop with action figures and barbies of vagrants or runaways that he happened upon. But if he did that then he would have to hire someone to manage it and he didn't have anyone he trusted that much. Still...It would be a great profit. He could knock down the shared wall and put in a frosted glass pane between the antique shop and the newer one...

"Oh my lord, Harold look! A leg lamp! Like in a Christmas Story!" A plump woman shrieked, her raspy voice piercing Mathias' reverie. He hid a grin when he saw what she was going on about. Yes, the lamp was almost like the one in the iconic holiday movie. Almost. The only difference was that, that leg used to belong to the first nanny he had hired. Bethany Waters, a seemingly kind woman with a heart of gold and a knack for getting children to eat their veggies and go to bed on time every night! Angie's List called her a miracle worker. But what they didn't disclose was that the reason why Bethany was so efficient was because she persuaded children with threats of beating them savagely. Obviously when Mathias was made aware of this by one of his nieces, he couldn't let it continue and he had dealt with the terrible woman. Honestly, her demise had been one of the most altruistic and bloody things he had ever done. On one hand he had rid the world of a horrible child care provider. And on the other hand he had purchased a wood chipper, jammed her body into it then at the last moment decided to keep her left leg, turn it into porcelain then decorate it in the likeness of the leg lamp from A Christmas Story. Ah, good times.

"Sir, we'll be getting this!" The elderly woman squealed, hobbling over to the desk with her equally eager husband--Harold, presumably--limping after her.

"Lovely," Mathias purred. "And will that be all for you, today?"

"And this! Grandma, Grandpa, please buy me this!! It looks just like Cutie Pie!" A little girl about the age of Mathias' nieces ran up behind the old couple, holding one of Mathias' animal dolls.

Her grandmother exclaimed in surprise as she inspected the doll. "It really does! It's got the same red bow and everything! It would be a crime not to buy it!" She said, placing the doll on the counter and digging into her purse.

Mathias smiled even wider. "That will be 40 even."

After the last customers filtered out, Mathias closed up shop and headed to his next destination--the meeting. Technically it didn't start until later but Mathias hated being anything less than fifteen minutes early. As he entered the warehouse, he smiled when his fearless leader noticed his presence.

"Scorpion, darling. How are you?" He inquired, a small smile on his face as he approached. With every step he took, his walking stick sttruck the cold cement floor with a light tap.

@Lulunopia (Scorpion)

 

[Jinx]

[fieldbox="Seraphim, #242424, solid, 10"]

Charlie chuckled at Arthur's comment about being wounded by one of the 'capers'. It was a slightly inconvenient yet very honest truth of her life, as she was responsible for most of the healing that went on concerning the people in this room. Before she could think of a response that was only half as witty as she imagined it to be, a familiar gathering a stardust made its way over to the table.

"Nomad! It's great to see you." Charlie greeted in delight, seconds after Arthur acknowledged their fellow superhero. It was good to see Nomad again, as she was fairly fond of the cloudy-formed girl. Although her form wasn't always corporeal, that didn't stop Charlie from trying to become her friend. Of course, the doctor had so many questions concerning how she came to be in that form and what that meant for her internal organs when she was in the stardust form. Somewhere in her office, Charlie had at least two notebooks filled with theories and information about Nomad.

Before she could either ask Arthur what he meant by his statement or continue to converse with Nomad, the sound of a door shutting caught her attention. A hush seemed to fall over the room as her close friend and father to her goddaughter began to address the crowd. A smile stretched across Charlie's face at the sight of Michael falling easily into the position of a leader. Her eyes narrowed however at the revelation that the villains of this city were beginning to grow, as were their organization. He was correct in saying that the only way for them to fight this would be to form their own organization. Once the speech came to a close, Charlie began to move towards Michael after excusing herself from Arthur and Nomad.

As she reached the halfway mark of the room, however, the phone in the pocket of her costume gave a quick buzz. Charlie moved to the side, quickly flipping open her phone to read the text. Her lips quirked into a small rueful smile at the text from Molly. A warm feeling rose to her chest at the concern from her friend. She wished that Molly would show up, or perhaps even join their gang of crime-fighting heroes. Nothing would make Charlie happier than to fight by Molly's side, especially seeing as Charlie often found herself feeling deeply concerned for the other girl.

I'll make sure to. You take care too, Moll.

Charlie's fingers pressed send, and then hesitated to flip the phone shut once more.

The world could always use more heroes, you know. :)

After pressing send once more, Charlie flipped the phone shut and stuffed it in her pocket before advancing towards Michael once more. She bounced on her heels slightly as she approached him, her grin unrestrained. "Good evening, all powerful leader. I'm happy to hear that you got us our first gig tonight."
​

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[Weaver]

Sam's peripheral vision picked out the absence of foot traffic to either side, as she exited the store. She did not bother to confirm that with a turn of her head, having practiced developing an awareness of those vague and fleeting details which existed just beyond the range of focused study. She found she had a knack for it, detecting motion simply by forcing herself to focus on what her eyes and ears told her. She instead immediately turned to her left and started down the alley behind this row of storefronts, just as a familiar friend named "contempt" made its opinions of each of them known, in turn, as she passed them by.

"Radio Shack," she scoffed internally. On any other day, she would not be caught dead in such a limited and kitschy store. "Hot Topic for wireheads. Can't even get a decent open-source board there."

She passed by a clothing store which appeared to be marketed directly toward attention-starved teens with rich parents, and faked choking back a gag reflex. What was the point of such a product? The material quality was absolute garbage, yet it carried a price tag easily twice that of any comparable fabric. She silently resolved that it had to have something to do with the markings. Humans were crazy for markings, up to and including the ritual disfiguration of their own skin to that end.

The sound of the door slamming against its frame halted her feet. For an instant, she felt threatened again. However, a quick survey of her surroundings indicated that it had just been the antiquated pneumatic system in Radio Shack's back door that had led it to slowly creep closed, eventually buckling entirely, at the last second, and allowing the full force of the system to ram itself into its frame without warning or apology. She cursed the store for a second time, though a part of her wanted to be impressed by the distance she'd put between herself and The Shack before it happened. That small part of her was quickly silenced by an unforgiving critique of the equipment they had "obviously" been forced to put up with.

She resumed her trek with renewed vigor and checked her phone for the time. With her unscheduled pit stop, there would only barely be enough time to arrive and set in motion her part of the plan. She doubled her pace and resolved to take a shortcut through a pizza place a couple blocks north of her position. The popularity of the food, coupled with the impending dinner rush, would serve to distract the staff long enough for her to slip out the service entrance unnoticed.

---

People really were stupid. Sam perched on the balls of her feet, crouched next to the edge of an abandoned apartment complex situated diagonally from her intended target. The small-time cash-for-gold store boasted an entrance and exit cam, two more lobby cams, a backroom cam, and a vault...but no live guards on overnight staff. The lynch pin in this entire system was an automated alarm system which used a wireless signal to alert authorities in the event of a breach of any number of vulnerable points in the building's structure; windows, door jambs, ventilation ducts, what-have-you. The whole shebang operated on a live system ping against a secure server, at regular intervals, to detect any interruption of the signal connection between the alarm box and the security company's server. That is...until Sam got her claws into it.

She plucked a boxy control system from her messenger bag. It boasted two sticks, a couple of potentiometers, a few flashing LEDs...just the basics, really. She flicked on the power switch and waited for the "connection" LED to blink green, then pressed the "cam" button. The homebrew heli's onboard camera system began broadcasting a live feed to her control box and she gave the rotors a little nudge. Slowly, but surely, the cobbled-together toy rose from the roof of the jewelry store and approached her position. She carefully landed it and disconnected the hard drive from its underbelly, then jacked it into her laptop.

In seconds, the operation was complete. Sam fought for a few minutes with the local firewalls before breaking into a cafe's wireless network to send a greenlight confirmation to her employer, who would most likely be hitting this professional parasite later that evening, armed with the knowledge of how to loop the remote security ping response and video feeds. She packed up quickly and headed for the stairs, marveling at how easily people were taken in by these thieves.

Sam despised the jewelry trade. In her view, there was no functional difference between glass and a diamond, but for those industrial applications where the simple strength and abrasive quality of the diamond was necessary to get the job done. She thought bronze, given a good polish once in a while, was every bit as pretty as any gold she'd ever seen. Add to that the fact these places made sport of the ignorant, promising fair prices and then lowballing priceless heirlooms, delivering late checks which arrived a day after the appeal process or return policy expired...yes, they definitely needed to be taken down a peg. And, at ten percent of the take, Sam didn't mind working with jewel thieves just this once. After all...if they did get caught, what were they going to do? Tell the cops they got their intel from an anonymous online ghost?

Sam's lips curled into a cruel grin. This had to be about the closest one could come to "something for nothing". The irony was delicious; that paradox was something most humans strove for all their lives...even to the point of spending double the effort in the attempt to spend half.[/hr]

 

[Aero Blue]

Gale was as good a choice as they'd get, Arthur reasoned. Potent power, proven track record. The man had a personality agreeable to Arthur's own, in that both of them were largely subdued. Quiet. Their newfound leader's speech was a mostly functional one, that spoke of hard details and facts, bereft of empty bluster - the hallmarks of the 'charismatic', so to speak. Gale may not have been some sort of cult of personality, but he would be reasonable, highly effective.

He braced himself as the speech ended, dreading the incoming cacophony of applause. Hundreds and hundreds of years, and people never applauded on cue, or on beat. Just raucous white-noise.

It came, though not near so bad as he had expected.

There were reasons for Arthur to leave, off-rhythm applause aside. The concept of a permanent facility was a daunting one. To consolidate all those various capes and cowls into one central hub, organized and distributed where needed. A system of ample supply. No longer would any single cape have to make the hard choices of having to choose one fight over another, saving one while relinquishing a second. They were many, and they'd save all of them.

In theory.

Still, disagreeance gnawed at Arthur. It was just not how he did things.

 

[Mook-LandStrider]

Having disappeared from the scene the hooded figure made an exit into an alleyway and disappeared from sight entirely. Leaving the area he made his way back to a building just outside of the restaurant in Harlem "Jacob's Diner."

Opening the door to the building the doctor ran his handprint. Door unlocking the whole face slid upwards revealing a staircase downward. Entering the staircase the door silently slid downward, once more taking the shape of a normal door. Descending to the bottom he walked out and turned the lights on.

While nothing over the top the room was far from old looking. Making his way over to a back room he opened the door and began to systematically remove several pistols from his person. Ejecting the magazines he placed the unloaded pistols onto their holding space. Tossing the magazines in a bucket he then turned and left. Trophies, he didn't much like guns but perhaps it was time for consolidation.

Turning and closing the door he made his way out and took a seat on the couch. Still wearing his outfit he took the phone out and began to look through the contacts. "Ah, Hallo Nickolas." Cipherous said with a laugh before dialing the number. Taking the next few moments he began to press a sequence on his left hand.

Nickolas picked up the phone "Yeah, what do you want? You need to re-up already?" The man on the line said. Responding, Cipherous spoke in the voice of the man he killed. His mask having processed the voice pattern and overlaid it with his own.
"Yeah, the boys get rid of them fast?" Cipherous asked. Nickolas responded "Alright, a shipment came in this morning. Its at the stash house." then the line went dead.

Putting the phone aside Cipherous stood up once more. Walking into the back room he opened the door and stepped inside. Glancing around he tapped his foot before reaching down and picking up a bat from the room of guns. Twirling it around in his hand a few times he ended up putting it back down.

Walking out he closed and locked the door. Striding across the room he picked up his doctor's bag on his way out. Taking a set of keys out of his pocket he got into an old beat up car before driving off. He was making a house call for once. This was going to be thrilling.​

 

[Weaver]

Sam's footfalls were light and quick, but still echoed in the stairway of the apartment complex. The entire section seemed comprised entirely of cement, which did nothing for soundproofing. She forced the thought away and focused on making her descent as quick and efficient as possible; she more or less "fell" down these stairs, using her feet only as a control mechanism to regulate her rate of descent. The markers for each floor told her, in real time, what to expect for a minimum exit time.

...or so she thought.

Sam skipped the last four steps with an exuberant hop, and made for the exit door. As it swung open, she stepped through, nearly colliding with a youth sporting a buzz cut and some ragged motorcycle leathers. He flashed a toothy grin and put a palm against the door frame.

"Toll booth," he stated simply, extending a hand. "Whatcha got?"

Sam bowed her head, feigning submission. In truth, she was focusing on her peripheral vision again, in case movement from the sides became a thing. She ran through her options as the thug waited impatiently for her to "stand and deliver." When that list of options inevitably reduced to "through him, or back the way you came", Sam weakly replied:

"Nothing."

The thug scoffed and took his weight off the door frame, if only for long enough to shove her with a single palm. "Bullshit. I seen you up there on the roof. What didja get from the jewelry store?"

Sam scowled, but resisted the temptation to attack. This scum just wanted cash, after all. But...she legitimately did not have any left; only her tools and supplies. Those were worthless to him, but priceless to her. When she failed to answer, he shoved her again and demanded an answer.

"Don't." Sam whispered. The thug grinned and demanded she repeat herself. Sam lifted her eyes, now slits, and rasped: "Don't do that."

"Do what?" The thug chuckled and shoved her again. Sam recovered her balance, this time, with a well-placed backstep and failed to give him the distance he expected. She ended up inches from his face...practically touching noses, which apparently did nothing for his disposition.

"Whatcha gonna do, bitch?" He reached for something in his jacket, and something in Sam's mind just clicked. She knew he wasn't going to let her pass. He, like all the others, just had his hand in her pocket...in her mind...in her business... She saw her parents, the battery of shrinks they hired...every face she had ever hated, even as his fingers curled around the grip of that snub-nosed .38.

By the time she could register the glint of steel in the flickering fluorescent light of that dingy stairwell, Sam had her wrist raised and aimed at his face. She let fly with a full dose of her enhanced "deterrent" spray and caught him right between the eyes. The thick, brown substance instantly began foaming, expanding over his eyes, nose, and mouth, even before he had the time to draw breath for the screaming that had yet to commence.

Sam stepped quietly to the side, even as he began flailing about. She winced with every shot from that revolver, but forced herself not to make a sound. Her opponent was blind, now, coughing violently and gasping desperately for air. It was all he could do to keep himself upright. Ultimately, the force of involuntary coughing took over, and he simply did not have enough oxygen to remain conscious. Sam, with her sleeve across her mouth and nose, just watched, her own eyes watering intensely at this close range, as he slowed, then stopped...then just...just fell. He crumpled into a heap in the middle of that doorway, three jets of stomach contents following, and Sam just waited patiently to confirm it was over. She dropped into a crouch, blinking hard to let her tears wash away the airborne irritant, and just studied him for a moment.

"Do you even know what irony is?" She couldn't help but chuckle quietly to herself, as she turned him over and ran through his pockets. She took his weapon, seven spare cartridges, several hundred dollars in wadded-up bills, stowed in his pockets, and some kind of glass pipe. As she stepped over his unconscious body, she couldn't help but realize that the irony had been twofold: Not only had she robbed the robber, but he hadn't even been awake long enough to see it happen.

 

[Lulunopia]

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Mentions: Other Heros
Interactions: Gale
Outfit: HERE

Humming to herself Celestia strolled down the streets of New york wondering what the day would bring her. Today she got a message with a location and a note saying meet here, the hero's are gathering. Excited she had screamed scaring her cat. Now she was on her way there, not in costume yet. She figured she'd scout the place before entering. Never know if it's going to be a trap or not. Looking at the building she noted it was government. The person must have some connections for them to be meeting at a place like this. Again looking at the building she ran to an alleyway to change.

Now in costume she walked into the building casually. She wasn't as well known as other hero's but people still know who she is when she runs by in costume. As she entered the room she observed all the people in the room. Everyone she knew was there. Walking around she waited patiently for whoever called them here to show.

Celestia looked a the man who walked in, instantly recognizing him. As she listened to his speech she felt respect for him and agreed that they needed to band together. The villains were becoming a great threat that needed to be dealt with soon or bad things would happen. "I'm not sure about the others but, I would be happy to help with he Gala watch." Celestia spoke with a happy attitude.

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[Lulunopia]

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Mentions: Members of Viper
Interactions: Doll Maker (@Cosmic Penguin)
Outfit: Here

He could hear footsteps coming closer then came the voice of The Doll Maker. A leery smile formed on his face at the use of 'darling'. Head moving toward the man who was walking toward him Sebastian's leery smile turned to a smirk. The Doll Maker seemed in a good mood. "Now, now Doll Maker. What have I told you about calling me darling? Hmm?" They have had many conversations about him calling Sebastian darling. It was an insult in his opinion. Darling was what you would call a women as a pet name. As far as he was concerned he wasn't a pet.

Skaing his head he looked at his faithful member speaking in a friendly tone, "No matter, I'll let it slide this time. BUT only because I'm in a good mood." Sebastian looked around, wondering where the rest of his members were. It was coming close to the time he'd set for the meet. Shacking his head slightly he removed his bandage, letting a bit of blood come out before re-bandaging it. His poisonous blood moved almost like it had it's own mind. Again he let it move outside searching for the rest of Viper's members. "Where are the others Doll Maker? They should be here by now." His tone was hard as he looked the other man in the eye's.

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[Shayla]

Adelaide Jane Vasquez
Location: Upper East Side ~ Meeting with the Rest
Villain Name: Discordia
Costume: Discordia's Attire

Our Father who Art in Heaven , Hallowed be Thy Name..-

The prayer rang through the vast space of the church as the high arches and stonework of the building carried the prayer's of the minister and the several men who had gathered in prayer with him. Adelaide allowed the palms of her hands to press against the vast oak doors as they creaked open and revealed her presence as the lit candles held in the space died away immediately and the church itself became darkened. Those gathered in prayer froze within their positions whilst the soft click of heels filled the space along with the heavier footsteps held behind herself as she smirked lowly from under her dark hood as the light and joy that once held to the room fell into non-existence. Her laughter fell in a soft menacing tone as she spoke upon her walk nearer to them."Thine kingdom thine will be done.. Such strong words do you not think , Father? Much like your God's kingdom our dear Earth holds its own mortal rulers whom seek their wills to be done. Though , in order for such to occur we must be able to keep our flocks in order I would say.. No doubt you agree?" She said in menacing toy as her hand eased off to the side to skim her fingertips across each passing pew as dark magic began to crack and steal the nature of its appearance away from what it once was prior. The followers at her side soon made quick work of gathering those that held company to the pastor as Adelaide herself neared him with the menacing red glow held in her gaze as he shakily rose and yet , held a proud stance against her."I will not give you what it is you seek , Witch.. You seek to corrupt and destroy those of weaker natures below you and I will not permit it from you at all!" He yelled in an abrupt nature as he was quickly silenced by the hand around his neck as he began to gasp and claw for air as Adelaide lifted him in a small dangle off the ground

Her head tilted off to the side in examination over the man as her gaze burned a bright crimson as the veins to his neck began to bulge in a dark black coloring as she spoke to him alone."Now Father.. Hold that tongue until you are spoken to. We know of your harboring of the recruits and your belief that you are able to aid them or in a more pathetic mindset.. Able to defend them. Now that is a laughable thought that you think a human like yourself even stands a chance." She finished as the others behind her smirked and laughed in amusement to the notion as she turned without hesitation and pressed him in a hard motion against one of the pillars as she spoke."Now.. Listen to me , you old fool. This lovely wonder currently coursing through your veins in a mix of dark blood magic. Think of it as tainted blood in your central veins that could easily kill you in a slowed and painful mannerism. If you're not wishing for this ending then you simply need but to send back those individuals to Viper and I will forgive you.. Much like your God , I'm able to forgive and never forget what you have done against us. You have 24 hours to do the right thing and if not.. Well , you lose your life and I tear this precious church of yours apart.. Brick by brick. The choice is yours , Father. Choose wisely." She said with heated warning as she dropped him in a heavy crumple to the floor as she peered out her mask to those held on the floor as she signaled the right hand one as he glowed with true chaotic pleasure to his next action as the Minister watched in horror to the bolt of electricity pierce through one of the gathered men's head as blood trickled from his mouth as he fell lifeless to the steps that led up to the podium.

Her look held with no emotion over the scene of what had occurred as she glanced down to her phone at the time and made signal for the men to finish what they needed before the police arrived or worse.. The heroes were alerted to the scene of what had happened.

With ease , she began to trail her way out the back doorway as her cloak flurried behind her and she all but drew her hood in nearer to the features of her face. Adelaide soon broke into a run as she gave a great heightened jump into the sky as she soared along the skyline. It was soon , that the warehouse came into her view as one of the large sun windows held to the roof laid open as she soared in and landed to the ground in a slight thundering commotion. One hand held planted to the ground before her as she was upon her knees and slowly rose upwards as her cloak hood fell away to let her darkened tresses cascade around the frame of her face as the mask that held there faded away in a cloud of smoke to reveal her cold paled gaze. The coldness soon broke from her orbs as it filled with a mingled dark amusement to the pair as she offered them a wicked smile in that given moment.

"Early as always it would seem.. Terribly sorry for my lateness to the fun. I was finishing dealing with a intimate matter on behalf of Viper that shall no doubt be remedied in a matter of hours." Discordia quickly caught notice of the cold hardened expression held to Scorpion's face as she approached and boldly skimmed her fingertips against his cheek as a soft smile curved at her crimson lips as she spoke."Do be rid of that expression.. Your loyal subjects will be here before you know it and you can finally enlighten us truly to the plan at hand. Caito said he'd be late anyway so we might as well begin without him , Dear Scorpion." She urged him in soft play as she cast a single glance back at Dollmaker and the odd dolls carried at his constant side as she felt her head surge with pain at the sight of them as a little girl giggled and hugged her happily in a memory with Michael at her side as she fought back the sadness their and allowed a feigned expression of darkness remain held between both men as they awaited the arrival of the others and her brother.. Late as always because he always had to play with his prey.