The Otherverse: Dawn of Heroes

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Razilin, Aug 17, 2016.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. AUGUST 14, 2016

    Settled on the coast of Thailand, Pattaya was renowned for its wild nightlife, perhaps equal to Bangkok in frivolities. And with wildness came crime.

    The warehouse set near the docks was much like all the others, save that it was now the meeting grounds between local and foreign gang-lords. For weeks, they've been wheedling and dealing with one another, trying to push for the best deals for their own faction. It was weeks of heady discussion: who gets what cut of the drug profits, who controls which territories for racketeering, where can the prostitution rings set up shop. Really, it was like any other business meeting, save for the commodities in question.

    There were a half-dozen crime bosses in attendance. With each bringing their own cadre of bodyguards, the body count was close to thirty milling about the warehouse.

    None of them saw the burly, short shadow skulking around the edge of the light radiating from the overhead light-bulbs. They didn't hear the whisper-soft creak of the figure's battered leather jacket or the ghostly steps of his well-worn work boots. They didn't notice when the figure carefully pried open a fusebox on the wall with a flipper knife or when he started taking off the paneling, exposing the precious wiring within.

    They did notice when the lights suddenly went out. Guns sprang to ready hands. But in the darkness, that wasn't going to help them.

    A soda can rolled into their midst. But what was held within wasn't liquid. It was a mixture of sugar and tree stump remover, cooked into a putty-like paste, with a wick sticking out of it...and the wick was lit. It was the only light in the dismal room. Thirty sets of eyes went to it.

    The resulting explosion ended with confusion and chaos. Aluminum shrapnel from the can lodged into the flesh of two gangsters, while the others began panicking.

    But they were distracted. And that was the point.

    The shadowy figure emerged like a ferocious lion, striking with fist, foot, elbow, and knee, never staying in a single spot for more than a second or two. He constantly darted from one gangster to the next, blasting them with a furious combination of blows hard enough to crack bone. He was a whirlwind of pain, striking at ribs, knees, legs, and faces. The warehouse was suddenly filled with screams of pain and rapport of gunfire.

    But it was too dark to see clearly and their assailant was simply too fast. The beatdown continued unabated.

    In minutes, twenty-nine gangsters lay sprawled on the floor in various states of consciousness...and every one of them bloodied and shattered. The last was a minor crime boss that dragged himself away from the burly figure stalking toward him. His broken leg sent fire up his spine, but the criminal ignored it in his panic and desperation to escape.

    His assailant simply stepped on the shattered leg, eliciting a fresh scream of agony and terror.

    "Shut up," the burly man ordered coldly. A strong hand reached down to grab the crime boss by the neck, dragging him outside into the fading afternoon sunlight. Now, the crime boss could see his attacker's features.

    He was a short man, thick with muscle, with a haggard and road-weary face that was all craggy, hard lines and rough beard. He looked to be of Asian descent, with unkempt black hair, tanned skin, and piercing, cold brown eyes. He was dressed simply in a grimy wifebeater and flannel shirt underneath a trail-worn leather jacket. He smelled of soil and sweat, an earthy aroma. To all appearances, he looked like any other blue-collar worker. But no mere man fought the way he just did. There was just too much fury, too much technique, too much ferocity.

    The crime boss suddenly fixated on the only distinguishing feature on the man's jacket: a patch on the shoulder in the form of a skull.

    The crime boss suddenly wanted his mother.

    "Y-you're real...."

    The short man allowed himself a small grin that only made him seem more feral. "Oh? Heard of me, have you?"

    "A wanderer," the crime boss sputtered out, "a wanderer who fights and kills like a demon. You look for trouble. You hate criminals and killers and take them out yourself. The Skullman."

    The short man frowned. "Skullman, Bonehead, Mr. Skull...tch. I never liked any of those nicknames everyone keeps giving me," he said. He grabbed his victim by the neck again and began to squeeze.

    "But you, I know you. Martin Foley. Fresh out of New York to set up a sex ring in Thailand." The Skullman squeezed even harder. "People like you disgust me. All those people in that warehouse are trash. And I'm here to take you all out."

    He pointed. Foley followed his finger. There were several cakes of the same putty-like material stuck onto various parts of the warehouse. "There's more inside. You people were too busy with your backdoor deals to notice me putting some homemade solid state rocket fuel on the support struts." He showed Foley a plain cigarette lighter. "Very soon, all of your friends are going to die. Five crime lords dead in an afternoon. I wonder how quickly the rest of the gangs in town will last?"

    "Please don't hurt me!" Foley cried desperately.

    "Oh, I'm not killing you, Foley," the Skullman promised. "You? You're going to tell everyone else about me. That I'm in town. And everyone else better behave."

    "Anything you want!"

    The Skullman released his victim, allowing him to crumple to the concrete. The scent of urine suddenly emanated from between Foley's legs. The Skullman walked over to the warehouse, the lighter burning with an open flame in his hand. He tossed it inside before walking back to Foley.

    "I might take you up on that offer, Mr. Foley," he said. "I'm looking for someone...."

    Foley watched in mystified horror as the warehouse exploded and its fiery ceiling collapsed on twenty-nine men within. Then he looked up into the Skullman's cold eyes. The scent of feces joined that of urine.

    "A-anything you want...."


    AUGUST 14, 2016

    Sam "the Skullman" Ebayan strode into the grimy hostel with the same ghostly silence that he employed with every step. He doffed his coat on the flea-ridden mattress and slumped into a nearby rickety chair. The nightstand next to it had a half-empty bottle of cheap scotch that he immediately brought to his lips.

    His accommodations were just the way he liked them: cheap, forgettable, and run by staff that wouldn't remember his name or face when he left. He'd been wandering the world for half his life and learned a long time ago that the true secrets of invisibility lay in patience and misdirection.

    He possessed few things in this life: the clothes on his back, the flipper knife in his pocket, and a single weather-beaten backpack of extra clothes and supplies. Everything else he found, stole, or made along the way. His was a simple life, but each day he was able to do something to leave the world just a little bit better than when he found it.

    Tonight, he single-handedly destabilized the city's criminal underworld with nothing more than an empty soda can and a few inexpensive items he stole out a janitor's closet.

    And now he had a lead on his latest hunt.

    He'd been hearing tales for the last few weeks about a man buying up women from sex rings...only for them to quickly be found dead afterward. Streetwalkers, the homeless, and other persons of ill-repute talked loosely on the streets about the newcomer's horrific activities. Every one of the slain women had an unrecognizable mark - a brand - on what remained of their flesh.

    Though Sam took down the six crime bosses to land a real blow on the underworld, his secondary objective was to gain information on this latest monster. Monsters, after all, knew about other monsters.

    He wasn't disappointed. Martin Foley gave him the brander's last known location.

    It was a good place to start.

    Sam looked to the bottle in his hand. Empty.


    He had a few uses for an empty liquor bottle....


    AUGUST 14, 2016

    Hello, everyone! My name is Uzuki Chiaki!

    The young girl hastily darted around her room, packing things into her backpack with all the fluster of someone who routinely woke up late. Which she did. Again.

    "Uuuaa!! I'm gonna be so late! Aaaah!"

    I'm fourteen years old and I like math and singing. In fact, that's what I do for a living.

    The girl was halfway to the door when she skidded to a halt. "Oh, crap! I almost forgot!" She ran back to her nightstand to retrieve a cute pink cellphone, which she tucked into the pocket of her skirt.

    I started working as an idol singer about a year ago after a talent scout saw how well I could sing. I'm known as 'Magical Musume Melody.' Its been really exciting since then, though a little hectic.

    "Bye Kaasaan!" Chiaki yelled as she burst through the front door. A military Jeep waited outside.

    In addition to singing, my manager has me doing some anime voicework, concerts, dancing, and touring. In the last six months, I got to go to Germany, the USA, England, and China! Isn't that awesome?

    A tall American soldier disembarked the Jeep and saluted her with a kindly smile. "Ms. Uzuki. My unit is here to escort you to the Naval base. We're all looking forward to your concert, ma'am."

    Chiaki returned the smile cutely and bowed. "Thank you, sir! I'm in your care!"

    But I sometimes miss when I was just normal girl. I don't get to hang out with my friends as much, especially my best friend Hikaru-kun! He's in the same class as me, but I'm just a little bit older. I wish I was taller, though. I'm still really short.

    Chiaki pushed her cheek against the Jeep's window as she marveled at the Naval base grounds. "Whoa! This is so cool! You all live here?"

    "That's right," the soldier said calmly. "We're actually conducting research here. Nothing you need to worry about, ma'am. Its all quite safe. And thank you again, on behalf of the men, for performing this concert for us."

    "Not a problem! I like making people happy, and if my singing can do that, then I'm all for it."

    Her earnestness made the soldier smile.

    So today's big event is a USO concert at a Naval base. Turns out I've gotten really popular in the last few months. I'm known all over the world. I didn't think I'd be that big a celebrity. Its all kind of scary, sometimes. But fun! At least Hikaru-kun will be there, too. He's been a big support.

    Chiaki stepped out of the Jeep; the soldier stood at her side. "Ms. Uzuki," he said grandly, "welcome to Naval Air Facility Kouma."

    Anyway, I've got to get ready for this concert. Wish me luck!

    • Like Like x 3
    • Love Love x 1
  2. AUGUST 14, 2016
    @Razilin @Lonewolf888978

    The Twins had spent most of their day searching the leads on this rumored 'Weave Killer' that had been plaguing this city for, from what they could tell, the past month. As it always was, the crime was different, the mechanics, the thought, everything but that one mark was always different. That same mark carved into the ground where the fortress had been. That same mark that taunted the for two years...

    From what it seemed, two identical men with white hair and silver eyes wearing nearly-matching cloaks was as much a rarity in this place as it was anywhere else. And as it seemed to always be, their look demanded respect and fear without them truly meaning to. Indeed, whispers had started to come about, the white and black justicars. And thankful citizens were very often quite happy to answer any questions they had.

    And so it was that Sendon and Neren found themselves standing outside the front door of an office building just at the fringe of the district. Sendon, the slightly-older, sleeker twin looked up. "Very tall." he said, Making Neren chuckle and nudge his brother. "You have to admit, they always seem to be unknown and yet big names." "True, would you like the honors?" "My pleasure." Ne smirked and lifted his foot, smashing the door open with one kick, the both of them walking calmly inside.
    • Like Like x 3
  3. AUGUST 14, 2016

    It took Sam all of two hours to get the information he needed from some of the local bums squatting on the streets. They saw and heard an astonishing amount of information, readily available to those willing to part with a bottle of liquor or a pack of smokes. Now Sam had the location of his latest prey and at least some idea of the layout inside the office building that was evidently his base of operations.

    As Sam suspected, his prey - the brander - had some ties to Pattaya's criminal underworld. He was buying up prostitutes from someone, after all. It turned out that the office building Sam was heading toward fronted as a shipping company while actually housing one of the more robust bordellos in the district.

    Sam broke in easily enough. He had to duck into the blind spot of a few security cameras and then work out the hinge-pins on a backdoor before he could slip inside. From there, he found the nearest maintenance closet. Some baggy coveralls were haphazardly thrown against some of the shelving, which he donned for a disguise. He quickly skimmed the remaining shelves for anything he could use. He soon filled the coverall's many pockets: a screwdriver, a half-used roll of duct tape, some dirty wash cloths, and some turpentine and bleach that he put into some Ziplock bags.

    Thusly armed, he started exploring the office building while carrying a toolbox he found in the maintenance closet, looking for all the world like he belonged there. The other office workers, dressed in suits and pressed shirts, just ignored him as they passed.

    Things became more raucous when Sam reached the lobby, just as a pair of identical twins burst through the front door. They were a unique sight: both in cloaks, one white and the other black. Sam wisely kept to the walls to watch things play out. Someone was off about these two, other than their anachronistic taste in outerwear. Sam couldn't put his finger on it, but they didn't feel normal.

    The sudden appearance of the twins sent the other office workers into a panic, with most fleeing into the hall. A pack of security guards stormed in with pistols in hand, shouting, "Don't move! Hands in the air!"

    Sam stayed where he was, near the wall and close to the hallway. He was behind the guards and out of easy line of sight. He eyed the guards carefully. Though clad in uniforms, they didn't have the feel of sworn-in officers. No, their burliness, crudeness, and hardened expressions were those of true street gangsters.

    Sam took out his pilfered screwdriver, wrapped a wash cloth around the shaft, and dipped it into the turpentine. In his other hand was a lighter.


    The "guards" turned to look at him, some a little surprised that they missed him the first time. Sam calmly lit his makeshift torch.


    Then he threw it at one of them, the fiery distraction catching the gangsters by surprise.
    • Like Like x 3
  4. AUGUST 14, 2016
    Detective Jacob Phantom

    Beep, Beep, Beep

    The alarm clock stirred the sleeping man awake. He smelled of cheap liquor and stale cigarettes. Beside him on a night stand, a half drunk cup of whiskey sat next to a empty bottle of pills. Groaning, the man went to turn the irritating alarm off, swiping at it. Instead of finding the clock, the cup slipped off the night stand and shattered on the ground. Slamming his hand on the alarm, the beeping came to a sudden stop. He glanced at the time,
    Its too early for this shit.
    Jacob said sitting up, running a hand through his messy, unshaven beard. He slicked his hair back and headed to the bathroom. Splashing water on his face, he stared at himself in the mirror, trying to remember anything from the past three years of his life. As usual, his head started to hurt thinking back on it, but he still didn't remember anything. Something white moved in his eye, moving across his pupil and deeper inside his brain.
    The ghost that haunted him was awake. It was the only thing that gave him a clue what had happened to his mind years ago. It whispered the names often enough, murmuring it in his dreams, and wouldn't say anything else. Again, he heard the whispering all around him. It was a single voice, yet sounded like numureous. It only hurt his head more.

    The Greysons
    He headed back into the motels main room. Papers covered a table in the corner, several files were still open from the night before. One infact, was labeled "The Greyson Siblings". He didn't have much on them, just pictures, rumors, and a shit load of questions.

    Gale Greyson
    Victoria Greyson

    His hunt for the two brought him to Australia, and after questioning a few goons in Sydney, the only name they knew about was someone under the name of The Black Weaver.
    Was the only thing he had to say about the name, but regardless, he headed to a country that didn't speak his language. He took a flight two nights ago, leading him to this dirty motel he sat in now. The night before, he managed to get some information from a group of guys who were afraid of ghosts. And skeletons it seemed, as they kept murmuring something about "The Skullman." It was a name he heard often, but nothing he was concerned about.
    He was tipped off to an office building he was going to head too today, and he quickly gathered his things, slipped on a button up shirt, pair of brown slacks, military boots, slipped his chest holster over his clothes, and but his trench coat on. He mainly were the coat to hid his side arm. Plus it completed his whole "Detective" look.
    A glass of whiskey and an hour later, Detective Phantom sipped on some coffee to give him some energy. He spotted the building, but two men stuck out as they kicked open the door, rather aggressively. Dropping the coffee, he strode across the street, reaching for his side arm on the side of his chest. Pulling it free from his holster, he surveyed the room the moment he took a step in.

    In front of him, the two twins stood, one wore a black cloak while the other wore white. In front of them, were the line of security guards, who stood with guns drawn. Finally, behind them was a shadowy man, who tossed a torch towards the security. Sighing, Jacob called out to the twins, gun pointed to the taller of the two.
    You two! Ying and Yang. Hands where I can see them, stay turned away from me. No sudden movements or I'll put a bullet in the two of you, capeesh?
    • Like Like x 3
  5. AUGUST 14, 2016
    @Razilin @Lonewolf888978

    The twins had on small grins as workers scattered, and 'security' forces dashed into the front area, demanding their hands in the air. Just as they had seen so many times before, a truly respectable-looking front. But that was all it was, a front. However, two things happened that they were not expecting. First was what seemed to be worker mutiny, the other a detective behind them, ordering the same thing that the men in front were.

    What do we do, Sen-Onii? Those men don't bear that aura. We do as we always do, Ne-Nii. We destroy our enemies. Let us hope, then, they choose not to be our enemies

    Their mental conversation took a mere half-second, and without turning around, The brother on the left, with the longer hair, spoke. "You might wish to reconsider your stance sir. We have no quarrel with you. Do not make one." And then, as soon as the screwdriver hit the ground, they were off.

    Quicker than the naked eye could track, the twins were off into the group of ten. Only a trained martial artist would be able to reliably watch their movements. Faster than most and stronger than most, the pair of them together could perhaps rival Skullman. One brother would leg-sweep a gangster, another slamming a palm into his chest as soon as he was in the air, already onto another one. In mere seconds, five of them were down, the others freaking out.

    "H-holy shit, where are they!?" "I don't.. get the fuck out of here!!" The panicked mobsters spit and ran, Three charging towards that workman (@Razilin), the last two towards the front door and the detective (@Lonewolf888978). Neither of them could be nearly as scary as what they were running from, right?​
    • Like Like x 3
  6. AUGUST 14, 2016

    The homeless problem in England was small. Not too many bums in Great Britain. Wouldn't be great if they did. But that wasn't to say they didn't exist. They just knew how to keep their distance. Parking garages were cozy, dark, and spacious enough for sleeping. Alleyways behind restaurants were like an all you can eat buffet - though you had to get used to the idea someone else had bitten into your meal first. And there were whole streets that went completely unused by the masses - a narrow leftover from the days of carriages, where these were side streets to walk without getting horse manure on your shoes. Of course, one still needed to keep an umbrella in case of the errant chamber pot, but no more. There homeless life was...well, not good. Better than was previously thought possible, at least. Stolen cable and WiFi from the comparatively rich neighbors, better clothes, some thrown out couches and slightly moldy mattresses for beds.

    Jewel Thornton yawned and stretched as she awoke. She heard a crack and felt a sudden shift that startled her to be fully alert. The tall, frizzle-topped brunette looked at the back of the couch and saw that the back was broken, bumping against the brick siding. The sudden shift in weight had been caused by the fabric underneath her to tear away upon her regaining consciousness.

    At least that was all. She had little to be grateful for in her life, but Jewel was at least lucky that her curse turned off when she was asleep. Now that she was up, though, it did what it did every morning: ruined her life.

    The newspapers Jewel used as bedding shredded as she pulled her butt free from the hungry couch and stood up. The soles of her shoes flapped with each step, the air tickling her feet. She shrugged her hoodie with her hands and tore a sleeve. She sighed.

    "Breakfast first," she told herself. "Then take care of the wardrobe problem."

    She ducked around a corner and ended up in the city proper. She stepped onto Marylebone Street. There were a couple cafes. Not many out and about this early, but it was summer, so the outside seating was popular. Jewel walked around casually, but would stop and grab a half finished scone or a few muffin crumbs along the way. She had to eat fast so the food didn't disintegrate on her, and she always thought it made her look like a gorging pig, rather than a starving child. She left most unfinished drinks alone, experience telling her that her and glass containers were a bad mix.

    While there Jewel did something else she wasn't proud of; with every spot that had a finished breakfast, not only did she take what was left of the food, but she would steal the change left as a tip. Strictly the change, as money would tear, or the ink would run, or with her luck it may even decide to spontaneously catch fire. That hadn't happened yet, but she wasn't ruling it out. But metal was tough. Jewel came to like things of metal and stone. They eventually broke down too, but they could stand her dangerous touch for a reasonable time. After a while she found herself near the clothing stores. The list of things she needed was endless, but Jewel had to stop herself in front of a mannequin display. Or rather, her reflection stopped her.

    At 5'8", she should weigh more than the barely hundred pounds she was sure she registered as. Her pants were struggling to stay up, the rope tied around her waist minutes from giving up the ghost. Her hoodie was similarly about to fall apart, and there were holes in her shoes. Her hair had always been unmanageable, but now it frayed out everywhere. She had an unhealthy paleness to her from getting the absolute minimum needed to survive. Her eyes had dark circles, showing to all the world the trouble she had sleeping.

    She looked at the change she had amassed. Maybe enough to buy a pair of sunglasses. She looked back at her reflection.

    "I hate you," she said. She raised her balled up fists. "I HATE YOU!"

    She hit her fists at the glass and the entire sheet shattered and came crashing down. She looked around as the noise was starting to attract attention. Thinking fast, she grabbed the nearest clothed mannequin and rushed down an alleyway, footprint-shaped craters dotting the asphalt as she ran.
    #6 Quiet One, Aug 18, 2016
    Last edited: Aug 21, 2016
    • Like Like x 1
    • Love Love x 1
  7. AUGUST 14, 2016

    "I can't believe the train broke down," the young Hakozaki Hikaru ran against time, ready to reach his destination - the area in which his friend from school - Uzuki Chiaki - was prepared to use as her next stage.

    "Holy moly! This is the stage?" Hikaru was astonished by the... size and location of the supposed stage. He attempts to look for Chiaki. "This place looks a little... confidential. Do I need some sort of VIP ticket thing to get in there? Kinda looks that way, from all this... military-ness..."

    Hikaru decides to text Chiaki. He unleashes his smartphone and taps the touchscreen

    Chiaki-chan, I'm right outside. I want to say - do your best!

    After sending the text, he looks at his phone for a bit.

    "Just need to tend to these applications and then I'm all good and unoccupied for the rest of the afternoon. And evening."

    And yes, those were 'Cute Girl' and/or 'Collectible Card Game' mobile games.

    @Razilin @Gwazi Magnum
    • Like Like x 4
  8. AUGUST 14, 2016

    The three gangsters thought to try to fight their way through the humble janitor in their way. Even though the stocky fellow just tossed a torch at one of their own, he was small enough that he seemed easy pickings.

    Seemed being the operative word.

    Sam Ebayan dashed toward them, heedless of the pistols they aimed his way. A roll of duct tape flipped out of the stocky man's hand, smacking one gangster in the face. A Ziplock bag - fingered open at the seal - flung out of the other hand. Bleach splashed into a second gangster's eyes, eliciting an agonized scream. The third gangster looked back and forth at his suddenly incapacitated comrades. By the time he turned his gaze again toward Sam, the stocky man was all over him.

    A forearm cracked into the gangster's gun-arm, knocking the weapon to the ground. A second hand with an iron grip took the gangster's wrist and twisted it, the rest of the gangster following in a painful flip that dislocated his shoulder and sent him sprawling into the floor. Sam's heavy boot then found a place in his victim's face, knocking him out cold.

    But he wasn't done, yet. Sam moved to the man he had struck with the duct tape. That gangster had regained some of his bearings, only to have his gun kicked out his hand. A cross-uppercut-overhand cross combination followed, sending stars into his vision. Sam's foot swept across the floor in a short motion, tripping the gangster's own leading leg and sending him to the ground. Sam finished him off with an axe kick, dropping his booted heel onto the man's windpipe.

    The final gangster, still reeling from having his eyes scoured with bleach, scratched feebly at his ruined eyes while moaning in pain. Sam calmly bent over to pick up the screwdriver he had thrown earlier; the wash cloth wrapped around it had burned to ash, leaving the metal shaft glowing faintly with residual heat. He struck with the sharp, glowing end, burying it into the gangster's neck. The body dropped with a thud and the hiss of scorching flesh.

    Sam stared down the three newcomers: the twins and a man in a trench coat. His icy glare made it clear that he was on a mission. His quick study of the newcomers was revealing. The twins came in brashly - through the front door, of all things! - and they looked young. Yet they fought fearlessly and skillfully for their age. The man in the trench coat was quite a bit older, with a more hardened aura about him. And the way he held his weapon suggested he knew how to use it well.

    Then Sam's gaze flickered to the two remaining gangsters out of the ten. The twins had dispatched five and Sam took down three. The unfortunate surviving pair looked terrified enough that Sam was certain their morale was about to shatter into pieces; they held their guns in shaky hands.

    Sam grimly said to the twins and the man in the trench coat, "You might want to deal with those two first."


    AUGUST 14, 2016

    Chiaki spent some time with the American soldiers on base, receiving an abbreviated tour of the facilities. At the end of the tour, she received a text from her friend, Hikaru. "Oh! He's here!" She bowed politely to one of her military escorts. "Um, can we let him in, please? I invited him here - it'd be a little weird to just leave him out to dry."

    The soldiers were quite accommodating, providing a visitor badge similar to the one they just gave her. Her escort brought her to the base's courtyard, where she waved excitedly upon seeing Hikaru.

    "Hikaru-kun! Hi!" Chiaki jogged up to meet him. She pouted at having to look up. She was still shorter, even though she was a little older. Then she perked up and handed him his badge. "Thanks for coming, Hikaru-kun. This means a lot. I could use the support. And here! The guards were nice enough to give us both security badges."

    Chiaki then turned to regard the stage the soldiers had set up for the concert. "Pretty neat, huh? Its big, but not quite as big as the concert I did in Germany. You didn't get a chance to go to that one, did you? The food was so good!"

    Then, on impulse, she threaded her arm through Hikaru's. "Oh! You've gotta check out the base! There's so much cool stuff in here!"
    #8 Razilin, Aug 18, 2016
    Last edited: Aug 18, 2016
    • Like Like x 2
  9. AUGUST 14, 2016

    Hikaru waves back. "Chiaki-chan!" Hikaru, jogging towards Chiaki too, recieves the badge from Chiaki and patches it onto his shirt. He then proceeds to perform their secret handshake. "I always try my best to be there for you, Chiaki."

    Hikaru palm was placed at the back of his head when Germany was mentioned. He had a little chuckle. "S- sorry about that. I'll be sure to grab some bratwursts when you have another LIVE there."

    Hikaru blushed a bit when Chiaki threaded her arm through his, before Chiaki was prepared to drag him along. "Well, looks like we've got no time to waste. Wo- woah!"
    • Like Like x 2
    • Love Love x 2
  10. AUGUST 14, 2016

    The last bits of the mannequin were discarded in the alleyway as just bits of plastic, arms and legs and a shattered torso left naked in a dumpster. Jewel's new clothes were fashionable, but already they were starting to fall apart. The designer jeans were ripping at the knees, and she could hear the seams stretch when she walked. Her red blouse was already fraying, and the denim half-jacket had lost four buttons in under a minute. The boots looked tough, and the young vagrant hoped they would last her a while.

    She made her way down Marylebone and caught a bus, paying with some of her stolen money. It took a considerable amount of balance to not touch ANYTHING on the bus. She couldn't sit down. She couldn't grab the railings. She certainly couldn't lean on someone for support. A woman got on shortly after her and bumped into her. Her breath caught in her throat and as she made her way to the back Jewel saw a huge bruise on her arm.

    The bus inevitably broke down before reaching its destination. Jewel knew it was too much to hope for and continued on foot. She only needed a little bit of assistance to reach the heart of London, where the bulk of what she needed to survive she could find.
    • Like Like x 2

  11. AUGUST 14, 2016

    A long time ago, in the old Wes Dynasty was a man... A very special man named...


    Wait a minute! Wasn't I Russian? What gives!? Anyways currently I'm positioned in a Japanese Military base, not quite sure what the assignment is and I don't so much care. All that's important to know is that I'm here, some teen idol pop star is performing for us, cause that's not odd... Oh, and my mates are here too I guess.


    Tyril was wandering about the Military Base, off duty at the moment and had some time to kill. He could engage in the usual pissing contests the men had with one another, but why do the plain old routine stuff when something new shows up at the base? He made is way to where he heard the Pop Idol singer was last, and showed up just in time to hear the girl getting excited about the stuff at the base. He gave a smug smirk towards this and began to gloat "Oh yeah! I guess you could say this stuff was cool... Maybe. Tanks? Fighter Jets? They are flashy, but you haven't even scratched the surface kids". Then realising he didn't even introduce himself yet he stuck out his hand (wait, what? When have I been polite?) and said "Oh, and you can call me Tyril Wes. Leader of Squad Servant".
    • Like Like x 3
  12. AUGUST 14, 2016

    Chiaki gripped onto Hikaru's arm tighter when she found herself looking up at the much taller soldier, Tyril Wes. Her grip relaxed as his friendly demeanor settled her down. She shook his hand and gave a little bow. "Pleased to meet you, Wes-san! I'm Uzuki Chiaki and this is my friend, Hikaru."

    The trio continued to look around the base, with Chiaki "ooh'ing" and "aah'ing" at the various vehicles and pieces of equipment around the base.

    Eventually, they returned to the stage. The final preparations were underway. The concert was going to start soon. Chiaki beamed at Hikaru and Tyril. "I need to get changed for the concert. I'll see you there, Hikaru-kun." Then she gave Tyril another bow. "I hope you enjoy the performance, Wes-san." With a cute little wave, the girl darted off.


    AUGUST 14, 2016

    Naval Air Facility Kouma was, first and foremost, a research installation. The specific of that research was classified, necessitating the need for elite forces such as Squad Servant to be present in its defense.

    The reason for such diligent security was quite simple.

    NAF Kouma was dedicated to research on aliens.

    On the deepest sublevel of the base was a sealed-off hangar storing the dilapidated remains of what could only be described as a spaceship. Its sleek surface had fallen victim to the ravages of time, growing dismal and dreary in both color and texture. Scaffolding had been built around it, allowing personnel to enter and leave its interior as well as examine its hull. Sensors and probes had been bolted upon it over the years, slowly collecting data for the crew of military scientists milling about it.

    There were other relics under investigation as well, scattered in other laboratories on the sublevel. However, this beast of a ship was by far the largest of them all.

    For years, the starship had remained dormant. Scientists poked and prodded it without fear of reprisal.

    But today, something different happened.

    Within the dusty cockpit, on a forlorn control panel, a light started blinking.
    • Like Like x 3
  13. Killshot
    Unmarked Facility, England
    August 14th, 13:04

    Bullets fired from either direction, pinning Killshot down. To the left an automated turret sprayed bullets into the thick metal table that the soldier used as cover. On the right, a small team of four guys pinned him down, pushing more and more as they closed in.
    Oh it'll be an easy first assignment Forester, cake walk for a super soldier like you.
    The man muttered to himself, as he reloaded his assault rifle. Despite his healing factor, he exactly wasn't eager to be hit by a bullet. No man in his right mind would be.
    The firing stopped on either side, and the slow foot steps inched closer towards him.

    It was a whisper that escaped his lips self consciously, but quiet enough for him to barely hear. One of the men reloaded, a second turned a flashlight on, and a third was nearing the table.
    A man spoke quietly, still unaware of the state of his opponent.
    I think we got him!
    He is a super soldier, couldn't be that easy!
    The number was said loud and clearly, a kick from Killshot sent the table skidding down the hall, taking out the legs of two men, and trapping a third one underneath it. A normal man wouldn't dream of kicking the heavy metal table that fair, a master kick boxer would flinch at the thought of kicking the table hard enough to leave a dent, but Killshot was no normal man. The June Serum coursed through his blood, making him the first successful side-effect free super soldiers. He was as fast, strong, and agile as ten normal soldiers, and with a healing factor to heal any minor injures obtained during a mission.

    The soldier followed through with the kick by rolling up too a knee, bringing his rifle up and putting two bullets into each man, who groaned in pain as an electronic current hit their bodies. Behind him, he could hear the turret starting to spin up and fire again, but by the time the first bullets fired off, he was heading down the hall. Turning the corner, a bullet fired into his leg, sending a sharp electronic current through out his leg.
    Fuck, there was three of you.

    The shot was point blank, the pistol firing into his thigh, a second about to be fired in his chest. Gripping the soldiers wrist, Killshot easily disarmed the man and flipped him over his shoulder. Putting a round in his chest with his own pistol, the man yelped in pain. A dozen foot steps echoed down the hall towards him. Sighing, Drake brought his rifle up to his shoulder, and was ready to open fire on the approaching squad, when a siren sounded through out the compound, the dim lights flashed red and a voice came over the intercom.
    Simulation over, we have a red alert. Terror attack under way in the Westfield, London. Killshot, you and your team are being sent in as the responding unit. Shoot to kill.

    AUGUST 14, 2016
    Detective Jacob Phantom

    Jacob was a bit taken back by the two men as they warned him to not fight him, and even more so as the two went off into the thick of things, fighting the ten men on their own. His first initial action was to shoot him, but a voice whispered in his ear. The voice of his mysterious phantom.
    They can help you find the answers you seek. The others work for the Weaver.
    Jacob sighed. Why couldn't things be easy for once, and the bad guy be waiting in the lobby. By the time he made up his mind, the ten guards were reduced too two frightened men. The janitor easily took down three himself, and his harsh voice brought Jacob back to the real world.
    You might want to deal with those two first.
    Saying the words sent the two guards running for the exit, right where Jacob stood. Pistol whipping the first one, it connect on the side of the head and easily knocked him out could. The second man fired off four shots, point blank into the detectives chest. Each bullet went through him without leaving a mark, and buried themselves into the wall behind him, though he was unhurt. If someone had keen enough eyes, and was paying attention, the split second the bullets touched his body, his chest became transparent. But the moment the bullets were clear of his body, it appeared normal once again. The guard was speechless, and Jacob pushed the gun upward as a fifth shot rang out, but before a sixth could fire off, Jacob whacked him in the jaw, knocking him to the ground, and knocking a few teeth out as he laid there. Looking back up to the other three standing men in the room, he raised an eye brow slightly gripping his gun tighter. He looked towards the janitor, and glanced back to the two brothers before saying
    Alright Jackie Chan, you and the Wonder Twins there want to lead me to the Weaver? I want today to be over with.

    • Like Like x 3
  14. AUGUST 14, 2016
    @Razilin @Lonewolf888978
    Sendon and Neren watched as the other two men quickly and easily took down the final five men. They were both very skilled... and that detective truly seemed to have something more inside him. What business these two had with their enemy they did not know. But he was their enemy.

    "You may call us Sentaro and Neren." Sentaro spoke for the pair of them. "And we shall not be leading you to The Black Weaver. We will head there together.. Make no mistake, whatever you have planned for him.. will not happen. We have been tracking our enemy and his minions for years." "Four, to be precise. And once we find him, the true Black Weaver... we will learn what he has done with our family. If this is understood, then we shall have no issues working together."
    #14 Mythy the Dragon-Wolf, Aug 22, 2016
    Last edited: Aug 23, 2016
    • Like Like x 2
  15. AUGUST 14, 2016

    The man in the trench coat made short work of the remaining goons and said, "Alright, Jackie Chan, you and the Wonder Twins there want to lead me to the Black Weaver? I want today to be over with."

    "You may call us Sentaro and Neren," one of the twins, Sentaro, said. "And we shall not be leading you to The Black Weaver. We will head there together.. Make no mistake, whatever you have planned for him.. will not happen. We have been tracking our enemy and his minions for years."

    "Four, to be precise. And once we find him, the true Black Weaver... we will learn what he has done with our family. If this is understood, then we shall have no issues working together."

    Sam felt a little out of his element at the suddenly display of superpowers and this discussion of a man called the Black Weaver. The man in the trench coat seemed to have the most impressive abilities, having demonstrated the ability to phase through objects such as bullets. The twins seemed to have vastly superior physical abilities for their lithe builds and youthful faces. And this Black Weaver character the three were after....

    Sam stripped off his stolen coveralls, revealing his normal attire underneath. He grunted, "Hold up a second. Got a few questions here." He pointed at the man in the trench coat. "One, who the hell are you?" His finger began moving between the detective and the twins. "And two, how the hell are you guys able to do the things you just did? And three, who is this Black Weaver character?"

    He jerked a thumb toward himself. "Me, I'm Sam Ebayan. Just a guy trying to make the world a little safer wherever I go." He kicked an unconscious goon on the ground. "Idiots like these guys call me the Skullman. I'm here looking for some psychopath who's been buying up prostitutes and leaving them in shredded pieces. Branded and dead. My sources tracked him down to this building. I'm going to take a wild stab and guess that your Black Weaver and my brander are the same man. In which case, it seems all four of us will be working together."

    As he spoke, Sam rifled through the pockets of the fallen goons, claiming a few knicknacks for his own. In addition to any loose cash, things like paperclips, pens, and anything else he thought he could use instantly went into his own pockets. If the others thought he was being a thief, so be it; what looked like petty theft to them was simply filling up his arsenal. He most certainly took advantage of taking a pistol and a few magazines, slipping the former into his belt.

    "Got to admit, I've heard of some weird things in my travels, but I've never seen anything like you three. What's your deal and your guff with this Black Weaver?" Sam finished.
    • Like Like x 2
  16. "First, I shall clear something up." Neren speaks. "This man is, in probability, not the true Black Weaver. Criminals all over the world have been committing crimes and leaving brands, all of that same mark." he says, eyes slightly flashing.

    "And now your questions. As I said, we are Sendon and Neren Mentaris. We come from one of thr oldest magical lineages. Our family was situated in Alaska, however our lineage traces back to feudal Japan, ties there and to our cousin families are strong."

    "And what we can do.. you have not yet grasped anything close to our true abilities. However, we will not simply show them off. Our powers come from our family's bloodline."

    "And third. The Dark Weaver has erased our entire family seemingly from this plane of exsistance. He is our family's nemesis since its founding. As such, as heirs and the last of our clan, it is our duty to find and destroy him once again.. and perhaps find what happened to our family..."

    There is a pause after their introduction monologue before they speak again. "We will gladly answer what you need of us. However, know that these men become more dangerous the longer they have to prepare."
    • Like Like x 2
  17. AUGUST 14, 2016

    Breaking the security tags at the Westfield mall made it easier for Jewel to shoplift. The cameras, however, were harder to get around. She had to find clothing stores that didn't have cameras in the dressing rooms. She wasn't proud of herself. In fact, the last two years had been a constant test of her boundaries regarding right and wrong. Things were so ambiguous for her now, simple survival more important than upholding the law. She never mastered picking pockets, but she was able to push hard at a vending machine and bust it open. That got her some change for lunch and a few snacks.

    She sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, and watched the other mall patrons walk around, enjoying their day. She closed her eyes and tried to hold out the jealousy she felt for these everyday people. It wasn't fair. Why her?

    "You know what mom would say," she said to herself. She drank from the Pepsi bottle she'd gotten from the vending machine, stopping as the plastic fogged up. It was toxic now, the bonds in the plastic almost all broken. She got up and tossed the bottle in the trash. That I have to be like this for a reason. She sighed to herself. "What bullshit."

    Just then she heard something down the pathway of the mall. The people looked more panicked and she heard screams. Then she heard something that frightened her: gunshots.
    • Like Like x 1
  18. Quite the Marvel, one may say. It was so marvellous, Hikaru nearly DC'd from reality.

    "I've never seen a place like this before..." Hikaru was amazed by the displays.

    Soon, Chiaki was ready to leave to prepare for her performance, Hikaru smiles and waves as she heads off to change.

    "I'm assuming that this isn't the surface we're supposed to scratch," Hikaru then turns to Wes. "So, Wes-san, how's an average day for you?"
    • Like Like x 1
  19. AUGUST 14, 2016

    Tyril passed a quick wave to Chiaki as he ran off before turning to face Hikaru and responding "Oh nothing too serious. Wake up, run 20 laps, play cards. Japan tends to be pretty good at not getting involved in any wars... How's the normal day following a celebrity about?".

    (Wait! Then why the hell am I here? Peace? I ain't Canadian boy! You writers did NOT think this out!).
    #19 Gwazi Magnum, Aug 24, 2016
    Last edited: Aug 26, 2016
    • Like Like x 1

  20. AUGUST 14, 2016

    "To be honest... well... don't tell Chiaki this, but sometimes I feel a little... how do I word this? I'm a little unsure if I'm truly helping her. She's a great friend of mine, and I get VIP tickets when possible. But at the end of it all... well... you know the basics of the idol industry, I know the basics of the idol industry, and what I know probably isn't scratching the surface of what Chiaki-chan knows... and Chiaki-chan isn't really the type to know everything... and by everything, I mean the everchanging rules of the long-lived idol industry... oh sorry, I'm sidetracking a little...

    ... but overall, as long as I know the ways, we still maintain a great friendship. Paparazzi issues can be dealt with by passing me off as a lady, with my build and height. I see Chiaki as an inspiration to improve my average self. Maybe some day, I'll have a task that outdoes her - a magical girl, or even a superhero!"

    Hikaru puts his palm at the back of his head.

    "J- just kidding... Those things... are make-believe, and don't really exist in the realm of possibility, but if I had the chance, I probably would. I wonder what kinds of powers I would have as a superhero, if I ever became one..."
    • Like Like x 2
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.