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Thread: Battle On! [M]

  1. #1
    Calcos's Avatar
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    Default Battle On! [M]

    As written by Calcos and Minkasha

    Doctor Harold Lester stood, hunched over the sleek, polished microscope that was peering down into the world inside of the glass petri dish that sat motionless underneath the lenses, its contents invisible to the naked eye. His experiment continued on in autonomy, the singular nanoparticle laying dormant as he prepared to introduce a very miniscule fraction of the blood sample he had taken from his mother before placing her into stasis. The lone nanomachine, a product of meticulous micro-soldering and construction, a process that has been nearly perfected by autonomous machines.

    The idea was to provide the sample for the nanite to analyze, to get a better idea of what the disease in the blood was and how to treat it. Of course, his luck being what it is and life just generally loving to give him a four-knuckle rectal exam, the results would likely provide nothing of use. Still, he had to try something. So, as the sanguine liquid dispensed from the syringe and into the transparent dish, the nanite set to work, bathing in its murky crimson and attempting to gather what information it could.

    Lester backed away, then, his eyes fixing on a nearby monitor, showing him in real time the data that the nanite was collecting.

    “So,” he began, speaking to another individual who was standing on the opposite end of the room, “How are we going to play this?” His question was in reference to their plan; a heist of sorts, where he was supposed to play an important role. Ever since taking up the mantle of Warpath, Lester was a far more driven man than he’d ever been. He had also since learned that there was strength in numbers, especially when those numbers were as sexy as the woman standing before him.

    Lin kept her Oriental charms with the feminine glow of her skin. She was wearing nothing but a nude colored silk robe. She had just left his shower but fixed her ornate hair pieces back on. Lin was walking over the cold surface of Lester’s lab, petite small feet quietly tapping over to the man she called lover out of necessity. His assistance to the South Solus Gang would eventually become irreplaceable. However right now, the guy was a bitch.

    Not only did he take up a lot of her time, he was fucking expensive to fund for his laboratory expenditures, and worse of all, she had to let him slip inside her just to make sure he kept focused and would do what she would want later on. The life of a beautiful woman wasn't as easy as it was seen on tv. When you paid for everything with sex, you actually have to have sex with these people. This one was an old man. At least he could make her cum time to time.

    “I think we'll put all of my people into Northwestern bank. The scatter strategy won't make sure Black Wasp comes where we want her to…” Lin’s pretty pale hands touched the scientist’s elbows “Look at me…?” Lin asked up to the tall white man. Heh, Lin was always one of her favorites to play seductive well - she was a crowd favorite. The more she acted passive and easygoing, the more assertive and successful her seductions.

    Lester tore his eyes away from the monitor, his mind taken away from his crucial work, if only momentarily, to stare into the lustrous oriental eyes of his newfound lover. He felt a faint smile curl at his lips. ‘What did I do to deserve such luck?’ he thought to himself. If the man only knew what kind of monster he was truly dealing with, he’d have stopped working with the South Solus Gang quite some time ago. Still, enraptured by amore as he was now, he couldn’t see the forest for the trees. “Y-yes?” he stammered, nervous, not unlike his previous character, as he was before; before Warpath became his new name.

    “I will need you to help get get Black Wasp out of…our way…” she quivered her lower lip and pushed back some of her wet black bangs from her face. “The three of us...we've tried…” Lin trailed, Sophie and Nikisha also were a part of this - giving this nerdy mama’s boy a harem of beautiful women. The sad story of them cursed to one shared existence, yet they all cared for him. Heh. The idiot.

    He nodded slowly, his face deepening in red as she touched him, speaking to him in a gentle tone that made him weak. As he stared back, he found trouble articulating his words, his nerves crumbling as they had several times before now. In an act of false nonchalantness, he turned to face the monitor again, trying in vain to hide the fact that, deep down, he was just a scared little boy playing at the tough guy whenever he felt like it. “Consider it done, love,” he said in a brisk monotone.

    Despite the fact that even though she was willing to give herself to him, she intimidated him still. Beauty and grace coalescing into a brilliant and talented woman such as that, and she was all his. He felt that something had to be amiss. If only he could discern what it was…

    - - - Updated - - -

    As written by Calcos and Minkasha

    An unspecified amount of time later...

    Alarms rang out in a chorus of shrill, incessant noise; indicative of their assault on the bank. Outside, a police perimeter had been set up, with this now being a hostage situation; although, they dared not make a move on the place for fear of getting anyone killed. Cowering all about the lobby were myriad civilians and bank tellers, Warpath’s hulking, metallic frame looming over them all, his weapon held in the crook of his right elbow as he kept it pointed upward, eyes scanning the cluster of frightened citizens. They hadn’t killed anyone yet; no, that was unnecessary at this stage.

    This was just the bait...

    Beside Warpath’s giant form was a five foot six blonde, the famed Sophie of The Greedy Goddesses. Her subordinates were a mismatching gang of young men and women with various hair colors and fashion styles. Some were even wearing GG or SSG merch on the crime scene while they held out their guns. But miss Sophie didn’t need guns when her hands could commit murder quiet easily. She had a few money sacs in her grasp. And instead of asking the front clerk for the cash she slammed down hard on the stone counter above the hidden till. Under her might it not only cracked, but almost exploded with force. Smooth rock turning into rubble - the dent even went down into the thick metal that safeguarded the money.

    Her breasts within her open suit jacket and lace bra wiggled violently, something the male clerk didn’t miss while he was terrified and several steps away from the beautiful woman who had just ripped open a gun proof till with her manicured hands. Hundreds poured into Sophie’s bag but she sighed and threw the discarded metal contained to the ground.

    “This is crap money” Sophie said out loud, her voice more bubbly than Lin’s soft and frail tones. Hell, she made more damn money through her legit business and stocks than this. If they were going to make it good - they needed the gold. Snatching the male clerk and raising the man entirely off his feet with one of her arms his frightful eyes stared life and death between her cleavage and her round blue eyes. “Where’s your vault buddy?” Sophie critiqued, giggling as a little extra quirk Sophie loved to do.

    “It’s um, down that hall and you have to take a turn tha-” He was trying to gesture with his arms. Rows of people who were or were not screaming were watching in full view this man shakily try to give directions while a small woman continued to keep him almost levitated without even a breaking of a sweat on her nearly perfect face.

    “Hun, I’m going to take this one to the vault? Okay? Hehe” Sophie giggled to Warpath.

    Warpath turned his head to look at Sophie as she, er, manhandled the teller with womanly grace. Watching this poor sod nearly piss his pants brought a sadistic smile to the technologically-enhanced villain’s face; not that it could be seen underneath that horrendous visage he wore for a helmet. “Do as you please,” he said in a calm tone, “I’ll wait out here for our friend to arrive.” By “friend,” he of course meant their intended target; Black Wasp, a troublesome vigilante that’s been stalking the streets of Solus City of God-knows-how-long.

    They intended to put an end to that sort of behavior today.

    Gripping his laser weapon in both hands, the gargantuan man relaxed a bit, calm and collected as per his usual habits when the meek Lester wasn’t in charge of him anymore. Though they were of the same body, Lester and Warpath were entirely different people. He was far more bold, more confident, more willing to do the unspeakable in order to accomplish his goals. He looked away from Sophie, keeping his eyes trained around the perimeter. “Just try not to break him too badly,” he said with a chuckle.

    “Please don’t hurt my family” A middle aged man in a bland suit and tie was holding his wife and teenage son is his arms. Where they had huddled was far too uncomfortably close to the supervillain. They were fightful of making any sudden moves for their lives depended on it. Sophie was gone around the corner with an eye catching sway of her hips and clicks of black heels while she hauled off the clerk.

    Wapath turned toward the sound of the quavering voice, casting his eyes down upon the pitiful man who pleaded, rather annoyingly as hostages do, not to hurt him or his loved ones. The villain strode over with big, thudding steps, towering over the huddle of whimpering...wimps. Rather unceremoniously, Warpath trained his weapon on the man’s forehead. “Do you know what pain is?” he asked maliciously. “Pain is undue judgement for sins not committed. Pain is witnessing your world crumble before your very eyes with nary a thing you can do to stop it. I doubt you’ve ever known pain…” He trailed off, letting his words sink in as a relative silence permeated over the room. “But I can show you,” he said, slowly edging to barrel of his weapon towards the man’s wife. The teen boy held in father’s hold pissed himself, urine getting on the tile floor under him as he was taken in the red glow of the Warpath’s massive weapon casting its hue over his mom’s face.

    The husband screamed, holding his wife tighter, screaming at the gun as if it had a will of its own. As if its red bulbous knobs had more purpose than pursuing death. The wife was hyperventilating while she held her chest, her breaths becoming all the more difficult to take in while the red dawn of death shined on her like a light on the stage.

    Crouching down, the villain got face to face with the cowering man. “How valiantly you try to protect your loved ones. I admire that.” Without warning, he snatched the pee-pantsed teen from his father’s tight grip, dragging him to the middle of the floor and forcing him to his knees, the Devastator’s menacing light illuminating the back of his head. “Let’s see how much good it does you,” he said, keeping the boy at the end of his weapon; a surefire method to triggering Black Wasp’s wrath upon her entrance.

    - - - Updated - - -

    As written by Calcos and MC DC

    On the roadways of Solus City

    Careening through the streets at speeds only a madman or student driver would manage for so long, the Stinger burned rubber as it wound tightly around corners, its driver focused and unrelenting on the gas pedal, brows furrowed and teeth clenched behind her lips. They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and it is precisely that reason why women shouldn’t drive while pissed off. Barreling her way towards Northwestern Bank, Black Wasp was ready to annihilate the thugs currently taking up position inside the establishment. Beside her, her ward and sidekick, Robert “Bobby” Flayson, aka Redwing, sat, appearing with all the aloofness and carefree attitude that he always exhibited, much to her own chagrin.

    “This doesn’t make sense,” she said, “It’s not like the South Solus Gang to put all of their eggs into one basket. Usually they try and spread us thin, try to get away with some money…” She trailed off, deep in thought yet still concentrating on the road ahead. Redwing’s eyes darted from the controls and the road ahead to Black Wasp herself as she was speaking. She was right, definitely not the norm for the SSG to all hang around in the same bank. Maybe they decided to throw themselves a party before they were taken to jail. Or were they just dumber? Hm...Black Wasp probably wouldn’t want to hear him say either of those…..

    “Mmmm…...Maybe they got tired of losing people and want to take us out in an epic boss fight or something!” He exclaimed with the raising of his finger in, what he thought to be, an epic revolution in his head. “I mean, we stopped a lot of their stuff before...Or maybe we just took out a whole lot of their guys and they have to all stick together so that they won’t lose. Or maybe they have an even more secret weapon? I mean...after all they probably have the money to get one because we couldn’t stop all of the robberies before….” He excitedly rambled with wide gestures every here and there as he looked out the window.

    Black Wasp considered his words a moment, unmoving and not responding. It would make sense; she has been a thorn in their side for quite some time, being the leading cause of many of their members’ arrests. If this were a ruse to get her to come out into the open and walk right into a trap, then it wasn’t exactly a bad plan. However, Bobby’s words had some weight behind them, given the SSG’s MO.

    She definitely couldn’t rule out the possibility.

    “Perhaps,” she said, kicking the vehicle into high gear and drifting around a corner, smoke arising from the tires like ghosts as they grinded asphalt. Like a black bullet it roared, speeding down a roadway a few blocks away from the bank. They couldn’t risk getting within a close proximity of the bank in the Stinger, so they would have to make their final approach on foot, via the rooftops, so as to not be noticed. Whipping the tankish vehicle into a nearby alleyway, Black Wasp killed the engine and disengaged the hatch, a hissing noise filling the cab as the locks depressurised; the sound of a mechanical exhale as the air was released.

    Clambering out of the vehicle, the vigilante looked up in the late afternoon sky; it was already getting dark out, a side effect of the late-year seasons. It was almost perfect. “Well take to the rooftops, make our entrance from above. The vents…” she said, although she was sure Robert was more than familiar with this tactic by now.

    Was it too predictable? Probably. Maybe. Definitely.

    Bobby pumped a fist into the air. “Ninja stealth!” His other hand whipped up with his miniature grapple pistol as though he had it in hand the entire car ride. “Let’s go!” He pulled the trigger and unlatched his seat belt simultaneously. Once he felt it click and lock, the red and black clad kid went soaring up.

    Watching her sidekick’s small frame soar through the air, Black Wasp had to keep herself from smiling. “Dammit, Redwing, not so hasty!” she said, procuring her own grappling pistol from its holster on her thigh, ejecting the spool of steel cable attached to the hook with the pull of a trigger. She felt it snag a sturdy place above her, and with a flick of the switch the motor saw her ascending, rapidly, towards the rooftops. Swooping up, she reeled the cable back in, allowing the rush of air to take her cape and cause her to boost upward and over the lip of the roof, ending in a roll as she came to a stop on one knee, all fancy-like, with a fist planted on the concrete beneath her. Slowly, she stood, her eyes scouring the not-so-far-off horizon, ablaze with blue lights and roaring with megaphone-amplified voices.

    Bobby, who noticed Black Wasp just kinda crouching there, decided to step back a few steps and commando roll right beside her. Dramatical fashion just the same, he landed kneeled in a similar way, only with his hand over his eyes, as though looking into the far distance. “What are we looking at?” He gingerly whispered as he noticed the blue lights.

    She waited, a brief-but-awkward pause in the conversation before addressing Redwing’s question. “Trouble,” she said bluntly. In a flash, she brought her forearm in front of her, tapping at the interface built into her gauntlet with her other hand, procuring a holographic image from the apparatus; the bank’s floor plan. “Let’s review.” The three-dimensional projection hovered above her gauntlet, showing a complete display of the bank’s architectural layout.

    “Here’s how we’re gonna do it…”


    They made their landing on the bank rooftop, quickly striding over to the ventilation shafts under the cover of dying daylight. Staying out of sight of the public eye, they made their move. Looking down at Bobby, Erica was unsmiling, her heart beating in a calm rhythm. “Ready?” she asked rhetorically. It was now or never.

    “Let’s go kick some butt! Or wait….actually I kinda have to pee. Oh well.”

    She shook her head, still unsmiling, before descending into the vents.

  2. #2
    Calcos's Avatar
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    As written by Calcos, Minkasha and MC DC

    Northside Bank lobby…

    Warpath kept the frightened teen in a literal steel grip, his weapon still aimed at the back of the boy’s head. His father had given up pleading, resolving to cower in silence with his wife. All about the rest of the establishment, the SSG thugs kept perimeters in check, making sure no one from outside could come at them and take them by surprise. “This is fuckin’ horseshit!” one of them said. “Why all this standin’ around for a goddamn masked freak? Why not just take the money and go?” Warpath’s eyes were averted from his adolescent captive and towards the underling who had rather rudely suggested that his plan was superior to his employer’s.

    “By all means,” he began, “Feel free to make an exit, while the police are still waiting for us on the outside.” His cold, metallic voice washed over the room, sending chills up everyone’s spines. “Now, unless you would like to end up in jail again, or dead, I suggest you stick to the plan and wait!” He growled those last few words through clenched teeth, forcing silence upon the dimwitted thug. He grumbled to himself as Warpath returned his attention to keeping the boy in restraint, his eyes wandering, waiting on Black Wasp’s first—and last—move.

    Standing idly by, the tongue-lashed gunman fidgeted in his silent sulking, wishing he had the balls to speak up against Warpath. But he knew that would probably end one of two ways: either becoming ashes against the nearest wall, or as the new hostage. Neither of those appealed to him. Suddenly, his ears perked up as he heard a sound; a rumbling, like a sheet metal shed being blown around in the harsh wind. He couldn’t exactly discern where the noise was coming from, but he heard it. Looking around, he made an attempt to pinpoint the source of the noise. He took a few steps forward, eyes searching.

    He finally came to a halt, underneath a ventilation grate implanted in the ceiling. It was a large, square metal fixture, pumping a lot of air into the spacious lobby. The noise seemed to be getting louder from where he stood. Finally, he looked up, eyes growing wide as the realization of where the noise was coming from hit him…although, not nearly as hard as what was coming next.


    The grating burst open as feet collided with the metal, ripping it from the ceiling and sending it plummeting down underneath Black Wasp’s soles, flattening the poor thug like a pancake. He was out cold, probably with some bone fractures. Her eyes darted about the room, taking note of troop placements, hostages, and a very, very large frame in the middle of the lobby. Without hesitation, she stepped off the thug’s unconscious body and set to work.

    Between choosing to pick a fight with the huge man who didn’t fit SSG vibes or Black Wasp - fighting Black Wasp seemed a lot less fatal. A group of punks, male and female, with makeup, piercings and asymmetrical hairstyles the lot of SSG were both beauty seekers as well as rebellious ruffians. Neither of which made them particularly good at fighting. But they had ambition, or rather arrogance to try and stop Black Wasp in the name of The Greedy Goddesses. A darker skinned woman with a pistol raised her gun, the only thing redeemable about the SSG was it looked like the members were intentionally trying to move their line of fire away from the crowds, which had given Black Wasp another second to get even closer. She was only able to fire one shot. The others were still trying to find the best position for lack of female casualties. Meaning if Black Wasp kept moving across the lobby - none of them would be able to ethically pull the trigger without risking the lives of civilian women. And they all seemed too stupid to try and engage in melee - all just waiting for her to be in the ‘right’ position - wherever that’d be.

    Shots fired, a bullet barely missing Black Wasp as the lead soared through the air, striking the tile ground with a horrendous CRACK!, splitting the flooring. The vigilante’s next move was unexpectedly expected; in one fluid motion, she gripped one of the Hornets on her belt, an electric variety, hurtling it at the armed thug with a snap of her wrist, sending 50,000 volts of spinning pain towards their equipped hand. Almost like magic, or fucking comic book levels of logic, the gun leaped from the mook’s hand, only to be replaced by the electrified Hornet, sending volt upon volt of hurt through her nervous system, her muscles seizing so violently that she collapsed in a pitiful heap. The next nearest thug stood off to her right, feet planted and gun drawn, held sideways in a moronic fashion. It took a second Hornet to disarm him, this one a standard variant, which allowed her time to close in jumping into the air and connecting her fist to the side of his head, putting him down like a rabid dog. She soon found herself being encircled by a group of five armed goons, quickly moving in to surround her, their backs to the opening in the ceiling. “Anytime you feel like jumping in, Redwing,” she said.

    Just so, the Kid Marvel sprung to action, bursting down from the opening, and firing his grapple pistol at some random section of the ceiling where he knew it would latch on. Swinging with his feet firmly in front of him, he’d managed to use his momentum to take out two of the goons from a kick to the back of the head. He raised another hand with his staff in it. He held it horizontally as he started swinging back down to the goons. It took two of them to stop his momentum. He smiled, raising an upward thumb.

    “Hey! Thanks!” He laughed a bit, shifting his body up, as they still both had hold of his staff, and kicked one of them with both of his legs. As that one went down and the other of the two tried an attack, he pressed a button for the shield portion of the staff to shoot out and hit their chin to make them let go. As the woman staggered, he used his staff to pole vault in a way similar to how people in the olympics do it, but instead with only one foot extended.

    “Bruce Lee kick!!” He shouted as his foot made contact with her head, making the appropriate Bruce Lee yelp whenever he attacked. For the third and final person who was simply trying to do what they could to keep up with the kid, He simply rolled toward them, bringing his staff to where it was its much smaller size. Then, when his roll finished, he brought the small piece of metal between their knees, pushing the button again and, CRACK! PING! The poor goon’s knees were completely shattered, with another upward blow to their chin to ensure that he wouldn’t fall forward.

    He smiled and looked over to Black Wasp for some sort of approval as he raised an another upward thumb to her too.

    Black Wasp looked Redwing over, saying nothing, merely grunting as she moved past him, her eyes coming to rest upon the hulking figure in the middle of the room, holding a hostage at the end of a very large, seemingly energy-based weapon. “How nice of you to join us,” the giant’s cold voice boomed. “Please, stay a while, won’t you?”

    “Nevermind that now; all that’s important is that we have this time together.”

    A moment of silence permeated between the vigilante and the villain, uncomfortable in its lengthy, drawn out awkwardness. Black Wasp and Warpath merely stared each other down, one standing mere feet away from the other. “No, seriously, who the hell are you?”

    “Heh,” Warpath chuckled, tossing the boy aside and taking aim with the Devastator. Grabbing Redwing and running, Black Wasp dove behind a nearby column while simultaneously throwing her sidekick behind a counter. Placing her back against the cold support structure, she peaked out to see what the villain’s next move was. “I must admit,” Warpath began, “That was quite an impressive display. I can see how you’ve become such a thorn in the side of the South Solus Gang. Impressive…” He mused for a moment, thinking over just how to break the vigilante.

    Using the brutish villain’s moment of contemplation to her advantage, Black Wasp sprung from behind her cover, a cluster of smoke bombs flying from her hands and stopping at Warpath’s feet, erupting in a thick, gray veil that would have choked his respiratory system if not for the valiant efforts of the nanomachines absorbing the smoke and expelling it elsewhere. “It’ll take more than that to catch me off guar-” his words were cut short as the female vigilante closed in, a heavy, two-handed swing hurtling down and smashing against the villain’s head, causing him to stumble backwards through the smoke. After shaking off the disorientation of the unexpected blow, Warpath began firing blindly into the thicket of smoke.

    His attacks finding no purchase, he was instead met with a flying kick to his sternum, once again sending him reeling backward; despite his size, a direct blow from the power Black Wasp had mustered to his center of mass was enough to put him on his posterior in no time. Scrambling back up, the villain roared in fury, the humiliation of being outwitted by the vigilante, even if momentarily, becoming a bit more than he was willing to tolerate.

    Meanwhile, as Warpath recollected himself a second time, Black Wasp had taken the opportunity to hide once more, as the smoke was beginning to clear and would no longer reliably conceal her person. In position behind one of the support columns, she was at least a good ten feet away from her target. She needed to disarm him; something that could have been done whilst the smoke was still coalescing together enough to conceal her movements, but hey, sometimes adrenaline is a whore for irrationality.

    All the while those two were fighting, Redwing had taken the opportunity to try getting some of the people out of the building. He had made his way over to where the teen boy was who had peed on himself. “Haha. I thought that you only peed on yourself when you were in diapers.” He needlessly chuckled. “I’d trade you mine to make you feel better but you’re too tall. C’mon, you guys need to get out of here.” He said, dragging the guy up to his feet alongside the dad and mom to get them running too. When he noticed Warpath finally getting back into it, he took the time to fire his grappling pistol to another part of the ceiling to start swinging to another part away from him, grabbing a small device from his belt.

    “What is going on out here? Is she here yet?” A white young woman’s perky voice was coming down the hall with the loud clicking of heels. Over Sophie’s shoulder was a sack of gold bars she seemed to be hauling with no trouble. The hot blonde didn’t look up to see the boy or look behind any of the pillars to see Black Wasp, she just saw Warpath being loud and flustered for some reason. Maybe he saw her. But what irritated Sophie was how all of her crew was knocked out. Why didn’t Warpath prevent that? “What happened to my people? You didn’t let that happen did you…?” She asked with an intended wounded voice.

    Warpath was taken aback by Sophie’s sudden appearance, his eyes failing to see the boy corralling the hostages to make a getaway or to take notice of any possible hiding places for Black Wasp. His concentration was all on the Goddess now; a fact that Black Wasp intended to use to her advantage. Prepping the charge on her shock gloves, she was getting ready to discharge the full extent of one million volts into the (not-quite-literally)steel-hearted villain’s system. “N-no,” his metallic voice said weakly, his body relaxing in Sophie’s presence. “I would never..” he trailed off, looking around to see the hostages fleeing.

    Immediately, his eyes hardened with anger, his Devastator coming up to fire upon them and the young boy dressed in similar fashion to Black Wasp herself. “Lousy sidekick!” he roared, holding the gun at his side. ‘This is it, Erica; now or never!’ Black Wasp thought to herself. Hurling herself from her hiding spot, she made quick work of the space between herself and her opponent, leaping into the air with her open palm outstretched. Moving quickly to face the black blur in his peripheral vision, Warpath tried to react before Black Wasp’s attack could land. A little too slow on the draw, however. Her palm connected with the metal frame of the hate-crazed villain, electricity coursing through his body like a wild river, causing him to convulse violently before slowly keeling over. Ragged, metal-coated breaths intermingled with the vigilante’s adrenaline-spiked panting, indicative that Warpath was still alive, Black Wasp reigning supreme over his unconscious body. Sophie gasped a delicate sound from her supple lips, hand to her mouth and jiggle of her breast against the other thanks to the pressing of her lovely arm. She stared down at Warpath.

    Holy fuck. She slept with this guy? He just tried to kill a child, let the hostages go, and let Black Wasp knock him out. It was official, she had a terrible taste in men. She thought, with his mommy issues and his super tech lab and all those gizmos she could figure out what they did or anything she thought he’d be super smart and useful. But he was like the worst possible choice for this situation right now. Sophie wasn’t more sure if she was repulsed by her memories of him on her body and in her body or the realization she just wasted the last few weeks on her life and hundred of thousands of dollars for nothing. The blue eyed bombshell stared at Black Wasp.

    “I can’t you a bitch right now. Did you see that? He just tried to laser shoot and kill a child!” Sophie’s heel signaled the rushing rage of the boobaliscious babe’s oncoming charge. But she looked down at Warpath and kicked him. The unconscious man was hit by her small foot, flying off from the ground, into the air and leaving a small indent in the wall of the bank above the door before he sunk down and crashed to the floor. Sophie panted, her blonde locks in her face and her bra shaking to hold back all her goodness. “I’m breaking up with him when he wakes up. How long is that going to be?” She asked her archnemesis, Black Wasp. She was the one that volted him. Sophie secretly had a great deal of respect for Black Wasp. It was great to see a woman working hard and doing what they thought was right. She totally disagreed with it and needed to break Black Wasp’s spirit over her knee, but, you know, female power.

    “Don’t know,” Black Wasp answered simply, somewhat astonished by the power behind Sophie’s punt. She’d seen super strength in action before, but it never ceased to amaze her at just how incredible metahuman abilities could be. “But that doesn’t really matter; I’m taking you both down, now!” With that, she cocked back a fist, swinging mightily at the face of the blonde-headed tank of a woman, aiming directly for her exposed jawline.


    Nothing happened. Sophie stood there and grabbed Black Wasps’ wrist to tug her in and embrace her. The full white pillows of Sophie’s body began to nestle Erica like a baby to a mother’s chest. Her super strength bear hugged the woman tightly against her. Then, actually remembering all the reasons she was pissed off at Black Wasp and the irritation she caused her day in and day out as the leader of the South Solus Gang, Sophie charged into a nearby wall, body slamming the vigilante so hard that they made a woman sandwich indent into the stone wall. Sophie’s breasts fought to outline and swallow every detail and shape of Black Wasp’s mask. Oh wow this was a cat fight and she got to be in the middle of it! So hot!

    Pain radiated throughout Black Wasp’s frame like a white-hot iron, despite the padding her armor provided. As soon as Sophie stepped back, the vigilante could do naught but slump forward, crashing against the tile flooring like a sack of dumb flour. Yes, dumb flour. We like to get derogatory in this bitch. Slowly hoisting herself up on one knee and elbow, she struggled to even attempt to clamber to her feet, her joints so ransacked by one single attack that she couldn’t muster the ability—nor the desire—to stand back up.

    With a woman’s touch, Sophie clenched her grasp around Black Wasp’s neck, breathing in deeply and sighing when she stared face to face with her enemy she got to see for the first time in person. So, after this, Sophie was going to need a new boyfriend and a new archenemy because both failed her.

    “I am a hard working and respectful young woman” Sophie began, lecturing Black Wasp “I make sure the SSG doesn’t do stuff to women and children; I rob and I leave. I don’t go out of my way to cause death and destruction..bla bla bla. I don’t know why you are on my back because this city loves me and I will be a woman free of people like you telling me I can’t do whatever I want. We are women of power, my sisters, and you are just in the way. You look awesome and I respect what you do, but I kindly ask you to fuck off. If not, I have this sack of gold I’m going to steal but I’ll have to use it like a potato sack and break all your bones with it. What do you say? Leave me alone and avoid an expensive hospital bill? Please?” Sophie pouted with her lower lip quivering.

    Coughing up blood from the undoubtedly collapsed lung she had inherited from the blow she had just received, Black Wasp was able to slowly raise her head. “Not-” she stammered between coughs, “Not likely.” Her words came out weakly, but they still had iron to them. Somehow, however, she managed to throw her arm up in a swift motion, her hand mere inches from Sophie’s face as she allowed the super-powered bitch the pleasant view of the underside of her wrist; complete with the anesthetic gas dispenser.

    “Huh?” Sophie stared at the woman’s arm just wondering what she was up to. Also a little worried that maybe she tit mashed Black Wasp too hard when a gas cloud shot into her model-like face. Her eyes shut tight and she began coughing, dropping both her precious gold and her heavily beaten archenemy. Her world was turning blurry and the urge to take a nap was coming.


    Instead of an American beauty choking on Black Wasp’s inventions, it was the titillating Chinese lady Lin who was releasing gentle bouts of air from her mouth until her unique powers began to settle down the toxin and render it inert but not removed from her bloodstream. Lin was very displeased and should have thought of Black Wasp’s constant cunning. Now she was going to be stuck in this form for a while. Lin stole a look up to the ceiling to see the sidekick was rightfully cautious. If the boy made a move, he could actually knock her out. She would need to keep the same presence of strength to be undisturbed. But that might be difficult with such soft and prepossessing small features and small bone structure.

    Lin stared down at Black Wasp who had collapsed again. Great, now she wouldn’t be able to even take the gold bars with her because they’d be too heavy. Just when she thought this couldn’t get worse.

    “Stop attacking us Black Wasp, you will meet nothing but defeat time and time again. This is our freedom of expression and you’re in the way” Lin sternly lectured her, with more eloquence than Sophie could ever say. The brains of the three forms walked over to Warpath and knelt down, Sophie was sure she was going to break up with Warpath but Lin saw a chance where her sister form didn’t. “Warpath...please...wake up. I was sickened…” she cooed to the man.

    Black Wasp’s own vision wasn’t faring any better, and the blinding flash of light didn’t help things. Between the disoriented blurs of sharp, grueling physical pain the sudden, unexplainable brightness, she couldn’t really make heads or tails of the situation. However, she did hear a voice—someone new—that was gentler than the first, yet playing at being just as commanding. Then she heard footsteps, the vague shape of a woman sauntering across the bank lobby’s floor, kneeling down next to an even blurrier, yet much larger, mass. ‘Dammit all!’ she cursed internally. Struggling to find the strength to move, she began navigating through the pain in an attempt to get on her feet. Meanwhile, Warpath’s eyes snapped open; not at Lin’s beckoning, no, but because the nanites in his bloodstream had accelerated his consciousness.

    And with that came the memory that he was very, very pissed off.

    Immediately, he sat up, much more capable of raising himself onto his feet than the broken woman across the room. He stood, looking down at Lin as she similarly elevated herself from a crouched position. He eyes then trailed from his lover to the black-clad woman who had miraculously managed to shamble to her feet, looking weary and worn down, her shoulders slumped forward. “I’ll deal with it,” he said cooly.

    Lin put a tiny hand on his elbow. Her brown eyes showed an anger she’d never given him before.

    “You tried to murder a child and if you murder her I’ll never forgive you. She’s a woman on a mission. It’s wrong. But I am tired of seeing women held back and abused by men. I will give you a second chance but if you ever hurt a woman or child again I will leave you. And you will get nothing from the SSG.” His eyes widened beneath his mask, astounded at the cold fury in Lin’s voice.

    “O-o-of course!” he said pleadingly, understanding washing over him like a hot shower. Temperature metaphors; gotta love ‘em. His eyes went back to the vigilante, hate lining every fiber of his being. “I’ll merely...impede her progress,” he said, his heavy footfalls reverberating off the bank’s walls. Lin smirked while her small and thin fingers coiled over her heart, a light touch to her white dress.

    “Take her equipment for study...keep the mask on…” Lin whispered in manipulative splendor. This little one was the evil bitch, if it wasn’t obvious. “Let her be anonymous so that she may heal in the hospital without any attempted attacks on her life.” Yes, this act of mercy, this kindness from Lin would be what Black Wasp would remember and have to dwell on when she recovered slowly. She would remember what the Triple Goddesses would do and quit, quit and realize that the South Solus Gang was going to own this city and the people wanted it. She was the unwanted one, not them.

    Things weren’t looking good for Black Wasp at this point; she was literally pinned against the wall, and staring down a second merciless beating, besides. As Warpath drew nearer, her options grew slimmer. Looking down, she noticed her electro gauntlets were on the fritz, most likely due to the impact from when Sophie plowed her (no pun intended) into the drywall. Although, she did pick up on the conversation they had across the room, even the quiet moments, thanks to the long-range microphone that was somehow unscathed by the assault. Letting Warpath steal away with her equipment wasn’t an option, but in her current condition, she feared she had no choice in the matter.
    Soon, Warpath was upon her, towering over her like a skyscraper. “I would say this brings me no pleasure,” he said low enough that Lin wouldn’t hear him, driving a hardened fist into the already-devastated woman’s gut. “But I’d be lying,” he snarled with a sneer. Blood spewed from her mouth again, a series of heaving noises escaping her lips. Bringing two hands together, he drove the large maul-like appendages into her upper back, flooring her instantly. With a quick motion, Warpath tore the utility belt and holster from Black Wasp’s waist and thigh, respectively, tossing the gear nearer to Lin. Retrieving his quarry from the ground, he held the beaten woman at arms length, continuously driving his fist into her face, breaking her nose and possibly her cheekbones in the process.

    He turned, pulling back the hand that held Black Wasp aloft and swinging it behind him, throwing her into the ground hard enough to crack tile, splinters popping up and dust shooting from the ground. Laying still, Black Wasp could only accept the beating, hoping that it would end soon. She was taking it like a champ, all the while, only letting a series of grunts and sharp exhales escape her lips with each attack. However, Warpath wasn’t quite finished; grabbing the woman’s limp ankle, he pulled her to him, scooping her up in his arms. Slowly, he raised the battered woman over his head, and with a swiftness brought her careening down over his bent knee. The sickening crack of Black Wasp’s spine, snapped like a Toblerone, emanated throughout, a shrill shriek of utmost agony ripped from her mouth like the spawn of hell itself. With that, the large marauder let her slip from his grasp, unceremoniously dropping her to the floor, her last fleeting moments of consciousness being ones of pain, pain and...she’s hurt real bad, alright?

    Lin was screaming at Warpath. What a fucking monster. Right now she couldn’t tell if he was the most evil man she knew or the pettiest little fucker because he was just having fun off Sohpie’s hard work. He was brutal, yes, but all he was doing was beating a defenceless woman. So cool, not. Lin’s hands slapped against Warpath’s arm.

    “What is wrong with you!?” She accused him of committing a moralistic sin. The mechanical villain looked down at Lin, his unseen eyes cold and emotionless, his heart filled with all the rage and ruthlessness of a man on the edge. “She’s still alive, isn’t she?” he said in a manner uncharacteristic of him. In fact, it was almost as if the nanomachines were taking over his conscience...or something. And Lin was weeping sweet maiden tears. And this time, they were real, her first real girl cry - ever. Her head spun with internal conflict. She wanted her freedom. Lin looked at Black Wasp’s haggard, if even that, form. But not at the cost of something that severe.

    The Chinese woman wiped her eyes. She hadn’t been afraid, in fact, all of what she did for Warpath was pity fucks and bribe money. Had she just laid down with the devil? Did Lin just stupidly get herself trapped in something she had once thought she could leave at any moment of her choosing. There was only one way to find out...was he going to treat her like his equal lover, or his possession?

    Lin bat her weeping eyes, using her genuine emotion to twist it for maximum effect. Her small half naked body before him. Would he care about her tears? Her heart?

    Softness found Lester’s eyes as he stared down at the tear-stained face of his lover, his focus shifting between her and the mess he’d created with the body of the vigilante. His eyes snapped open, confusion worming its way into his head. “N-no, I…” he trailed off, his eyes staring down at the crumpled heap that was Black Wasp. “Did this?” he said, seeming as if he had no memory of it.

    In fact, he didn’t. Once the rage had consumed him, it was all downhill from there. Skyne-I mean, uh, other sentient machinations had won over his mind, turning him rabid for the brief moments it took to bring Armageddon down upon the masked crime-fighter—moments that must have felt like an eternity to his victim.

    Worse option she hadn’t considered. Not remembering whatsoever. So his leash was...going to break from time to time...that’s okay...right? Lin didn’t say anything to Lester as she grabbed the poison emitter from Black Wasp’s wrist, and picked up the other gear Warpath had ripped off her less-than-now, pulverized body. Holding them close to her body, Lin looked at the boy hidden up above and Warpath before running out of the bank. Lin had no idea what she would have done if that rage in Warpath also snapped on the boy.

    After watching Lin run off, Lester looked down on the vigilante and sighed, walking over to the dropped sack of gold and scooping it up, taking a few moments to compose himself before realization hit him. ‘Shit!’ He turned, sprinting after the slender Asian woman. “Lin, wait! The police are out there!” he shouted, running to join his lover and assist her in fending off the cops...

    ...fucking idiots.

    Meanwhile the boy at the top railing of one of the bank's upper floors looked absolutely terrified. He saw as his maternal figure of guidance was tortured, beaten into a bloody mess. It looked like he was gonna kill her, even though he talked with the now chinese version of the Greedy Girls. He would’ve tried to help but the sound of his Ms. V’s back breaking was enough to freeze him.

    He stared on at the figures of criminal power as they left. With his uncharacteristic quivering frown, he jumped over the railing and sprinted over to her as fast as his small legs could carry him over to where she was laying. He fell to his knees.

    Redwing shook her. “Ms. V! Ms. V!” That didn’t work! He lightly tapped her face with his hand. “Ms. V! Please!” It didn’t work! He slapped her lightly across the face like they do in the movies. That didn’t work either!! He put his head on her heart, his ear listening closely. Her heart was still beating.

    She was still alive.

    Okay, okay, but what was he going to do? He couldn’t carry her out of here, she was too big and heavy. And he couldn’t use the device that Black Wasp used to call back the Stinger, that was on her utility belt. His head spun in circles, but, he had to at least try.

    He moved to try putting her over his shoulder like firemen did, maybe he could drag her back to where the Stinger was so that he could use the auto-pilot so they could get home and their butler Albert could take care of her. Albert always knew what to do!

    If the villains were going to be like this, it just showed how Ms. V and he aren’t going to always be able to handle it on their own. They’d need help, and he’d have to ask if that’s where they’d start when she woke up.

  3. #3
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    Central Library, Center Zone, Solas City

    One of the convenient things about living in a giant city is that of the public amenity systems. And one of these great systems was that of the Solus City Public Library. Within its system, one could read find books on any single topic, and could find, theoretically, all the thousands upon thousands of books in its system. Now, I say "theoretically" because well... well, we will get to that later. For now, let us concentrate out attention upon a particular girl using this wondrous facility.

    She was sitting at a table, all alone, in a lonely section of the library. To the librarian who had greeted her, she was named Emily. To herself, she was known as Hali. To almost everyone else, she was not known as anything. From the books scattered around the table, one would think its occupant was some eccentric genius studying both astrophysics and Shakespeare at the same time. As it was, the small girl sitting at the table was, in fact, a genius, but she was currently taking a break from her studies, as she looked at the pictures in the first volume of Albert Sullivan's Guide to the Bird's of North America.

    From time to time, she heard the footsteps of some other patron of the library coming closer. But she paid these no heed. After all, she was deep within the tech section, and, after multiple trips to the library, she had discovered this section was almost always deserted- everyone who wanted to read about these things was doing it online, after all.

    And so, the little girl was alone with her books, and with the lone TV screen, muted in the background, turned to her favorite channel: the weather station.

    Suddenly, the pattern of colors emitted from that screen changed from its usual blues and greens. The girl noticed this out of the corner of her eye and looked up from her book.

    Breaking News: Current Robbery at the Northwestern Bank read the subtitles at the bottom of the screen.

    The girl mouthed the words silently, and then began to pack the library books up into a brown colored backpack, her eyes constantly drifting towards the screen. She did this in a leisurely manner almost waiting for something. But, after about five minutes of waiting, she seemed to give up and went to the restroom.

    Her mind was whirling- only one target? How unusual... still, that means there is still going to be some cash...

    Now within a stall, her red-brown eyes seemed to become filled with a look even more distant than before. They remained like this for a few minutes, then, gradually, the color they held before returned to them.

    When she emerged from the restroom, her ensemble of greys and brown were gone, replaced by an outfit of black with streaks of red. Even her backpack was red. Confident that no one would see her (after all, she had checked her path only moments before), she walked straight to the window. And then she was gone. As were the books that she had been looking through.


    Sometime later, she now, the Shadow, arrived on top of the bank building. She had, of course, used the optimal route, or at least, used one with only 5% of waste. Having studied the elevation of different buildings on satellite images, then taking into account which buildings had been destroyed since then, allowed one to make as few jumps as possible. And allowed one to be on time.

    She walked over to the vent grating, which had, confidently, been pushed aside already. It looked like the hero was already here. Good. After mentally scouting the building, she began her journey into it: she climbed down into the grating, and followed the sounds of fighting, her noise effectively covered by the general ruckus. When she got close enough almost to see, she used teleportation skills to place her where she needed to be, then settled down to watch the drama.

    Her mind was in the room. There was the bad guy, and there was the good guy. But wait- was the bad guy winning? It looked like that woman- Black Wasp- was being seriously beaten up. Looked like Hali would get some change today. In fact, as the Shadow watched the drama- or rather, the last part of this drama- she saw her target- a bag of cash that had fallen to the floor. Thank goodness these "bad" people only wanted gold! After all, no Laundromat would accept gold for services. And who in their right mind would want to steal an entire machine? That was way too much work.

    Now, however, the fight was finally ending. In a few moments, the SSG would walk off with their gold, Black Wasp and that kid would go back in the vent they came from, and she would go down from her vent and get the leftover cash. But then...


    Even the Shadow could not help but give a slight cringe. This was... unexpected. As the two winners left the scene, the losers, instead of disappearing up the grate as planned, remained in the lobby. And one of them was conscious. Great...

    She weighed her options. She watched Black Wasp's sidekick, Redwing, get her on his shoulders. There was no way that he would be able to get the woman back onto the grates, or the roof from where they had come. And she assumed that he would not be so dumb as to take her out into the street, where everyone would mob her at once. Which meant... he would likely be here for a while. And then she would not get her cash...

    Well, that left two choices- leave now, or help him. Well... she really needed to do laundry tomorrow, so...

    Help him it was. Crawling forward to the nearest vent, she looked out of it for an instant before teleporting herself to a location a few yards behind Redwing. "You know," she began, her voice quiet and level, "you are never going to get her out the vents that way."

    The boy turned suddenly, and looked at her. "Wait, when did you get here? And why- Don't touch that!"

    The last comment was meant to deter the Shadow from taking the cashbag that she was shoving into her backpack. To this she turned, and said, "What, you can't stop me. Not now, at least. You have quite a load on your shoulder."

    Her comment was infuriating. Partly because he knew it was true, and partly because it was said in an infuriatingly emotionless voice.

    "Well then," Redwing responded, "I will put her down and-"

    "Please," the Shadow interjected, "Let's fight later. Don't you have bigger problems, like getting your own load out of here before the police come in?"

    Redwing paused, listening. The noise outside was dying down. "And how do you suggest I do that? I think fighting is the only thing to do-"

    "Easy. You either take off her mask, or-"

    "Wait, take off her mask? How would that help?"

    If the Shadow's face actually betrayed emotion, she would have rolled her eyes now. As it was, she just said, "Everyone knows that the only thing that hides identity is a mask. You and I could sit in the same classroom and not know each other. Pretend she is a civilian." She paused. Redwing wore his emotions all over his face, and even she, though usually terrible at reading people, could tell he did not like that plan one bit. And so, she tried something else, "There is another was..."

    Redwing, who was staring at the vents at this point, trying to figure out if he could get out of them somehow, did not bother to turn around.

    "There's a ladder in the back of the building, with a roof hatch at the top..."

    He turned. "There is?" He paused for a moment. There... there was a ladder in the bank to the roof. He vaguely remembered it from when Ms. V was talking. This might work, if the girl could find it. After all, he had not been paying that much attention. And if he got there... Perhaps, if he could attach her to his grappling hook...

    She led, and he followed. They went deeper into the bank, with Shadow leading, murmuring to herself and sometimes bumping into walls. At some point, Redwing asked if they would be better turning a different way, which Shadow muttered something about "stupid walls" before turning in the indicated direction. Eventually, they got to a door, which Shadow opened. It was a mostly empty room, pretty dark, with just the shadow of a ladder on the far wall.

    Shadow flipped on the lights and pointed upwards at a hatch. "There it is." she said, "You go up to the top and open the hatch, and then we can get her up there."

    Redwing hesitated. He really did not want to leave Shadow with his beloved Ms. V, but what choice did he have? She seemed to have no intention of opening the hatch. And, what else could he do. "Okay," he said, laying Ms. V down gently, "But don't do anything."

    "I won't" replied the Shadow.

    But when Redwing had opened the hatch and turned back down, Ms. V's unconscious form was still there, but the Shadow was not.

    Drat! he thought to himself as he used his grapple hook to raise both himself and Mrs. V to the roof, She got away, and with the money, too! Well, at least we can get out unobserved now, all I have to do is grapple down the back side, and then get to the alley...

    Sometime later, in the neighborhood of Gardenview

    A little girl with a backpack wandered down the street, before disappearing into an alley. When she showed up again, it was in the backyard of a partly depilated house. The deed to this property was to a man named Henry Jones, who had been a major partner in a home insurance agency. He had fled town some time ago, and his house had since been looted. The tree house in the back, however...
    If the gold does not stay in this world,
    then I will chase it till I find my home

  4. #4
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    It was a night like any other at the three-room apartment that the young teacher shared with her cousin, or a night like any other ever since some time after the detonation of the Nova bomb in the in the city, anyway. Things had been busier and more efficient since then - five times more efficient, to be precise. 'Then' was when Maya Casey discovered that she could do five different things at the exact same time. Was she granted the ability of super-multitasking? Well, she was never one to multitask, but now that it was possible for five of her to exist all at once, she wasn't exactly sure if she'd call it that.

    Maya was in her study grading a stack of tests, though, she was also in the laundry area loading soiled clothing into the washer, and in the kitchen blending a couple of fruit smoothies. The one they call 'O' was lounging on the couch with her younger cousin, watching as the late evening news began on television. When the doorbell rang, 'O' contemplated generating her fourth copy to get the door for a moment, but then decided to get up and answer it herself.

    "Finally," groaned Kelly. "I'm starving. We have to remember to call them earlier next time."

    "I'll make a note of that," Maya casually replied as she opened the door.

    "Good evening, Miss," began the delivery boy. "Seafood Special with Stuffed Crust?"

    "That's right," she answered before looking over the receipt.

    That was when she spaced out for just a moment as three different memories started creeping into her head. Oh, has it been an hour already? Alright then...

    "Are you okay, Miss?"

    "Oh yes, no worries," she assured the teen at the door, handing him the cash and collecting the warm box. "Thank you."

    Maya shut the door as he left, before returning to the living room and placing the pizza on the coffee table.

    "Knock yourself out," she told Kelly, disappearing into the kitchen and then coming out with the smoothies she had made. Yes, 'she'. Technically, it was her after all.

    "So, what did I miss?" She enquired, plopping herself back onto the couch.

    "Eh, nothing much. You weren't gone for very long," Kelly replied as she took a bite out of a slice. "It's about that SSG bank heist today, and they're still going on about it."

    Maya watched in stunned silence at the footage that was being played of the incident that occurred at the Northside Bank. She had heard that the famous Black Wasp had failed to stop the gang, but seeing the vigilante get thrown around and beaten down in such a ruthless, inhumane way sent chills down her spine and made her cringe with every hit she saw. It wasn't difficult to tell that her cousin echoed her sentiments.

    But who is this giant responsible for most of Black Wasp's injuries? Maya couldn't recall hearing of this SSG member from anywhere. Nevertheless, that clip was a display of the brutality that the gang was capable of.

    Kelly then spoke up. "That Vega girl you're looking for, she's not with them, is she?"

    "I hope not," Maya muttered.

    She didn't actually know Phyllis that well. All she knew was that the teenage girl, who had appeared to be a quiet, diligent pupil before, had one day taken down an entire corridor of students with her superhuman abilities. She wasn't even sure of the extent of those abilities, only that they caused burning, melting, and severe damage to the respiratory system, as demonstrated by the scene that was left by the girl. That being said, Maya surely had no clue as to if, when or how she would possibly be drawn by the SSG.

    "Can you imagine being out on your bike searching for her one day and you coming across one of these SSG people? I mean, if you ever find your way onto their hit list, it's going to be bad," Kelly pointed out. "Common criminals are no problem, but looking at what just happened to the Black Wasp, it doesn't seem safe to be doing this alone anymore."

    Maya let out a small chuckle. "You shouldn't be using the word 'alone' when there are five of us- I mean, me, but yes... I agree, the SSG is getting dangerous. I wonder what our Bug Girl's next move is."

    Her expression then turned grim. "If she's actually managed to survive today..."
    Credits to PrinceOfRedroses at for avatar and signature.

  5. #5
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    The Whispering Death was at it... again, for the second time that week. This time though, he met with success.

    The penthouse in the Residential area of downtown was among a cluster of buildings specifically designed for the most rich and powerful corporations that ran the city. The penthouses that sat at the top of these massive office buildings were a symbol of power and status here in Solus City. Adrian was in one of those penthouses... but it wasn't his (not legally, at least). Instead, it belonged to one of his enemies.

    It's starting to get hot in here. Adrian loosened his collar, and glanced back over his shoulder to a dying person sitting in a chair at the far end of the room. Their arms and legs were strapped fast onto the chair with military-grade parachute cord, but by this stage it didn't matter; the victim was at death's door, and in extreme pain. The radiation in the room was starting to cause the temperature to rise to mildly uncomfortable levels, but Adrian's slight discomfort didn't compare to the agony his erstwhile enemy was going through -- lethal levels of radiation were slowly tearing the old fart apart from the inside out.

    This was his third successful operation that ended up in the capture of a member of the Draegar Corporation's board of directors. Incidentally, it was also the one that had by far the fewest amount of otherwise unnecessary casualties. Usually, Adrian ended up having to wipe out half the building's guards while taking extreme pains to keep his Particle Acceleration abilities silent enough to keep his victims pinned down. Most of the time, he failed and they escaped before he could do his job properly. As if that would stop me from sending a message anyway. If everything went without a hitch, the penthouse was usually the only place where he could really afford to take his time. The radiation would have already travelled from his first main objective (the air circulation systems) to the penthouse, where both the guards and his intended quarry would be too weakened to move... if Adrian's own movements were silent, swift, and decisive.

    And they were indeed, silent, swift, and decisive. Adrian only had to step over five bodies and simply camped out next to the central ventilation shaft until his Nuclear Bombardment took care of the rest. One hour later, and the now-weakened director was too weakened to move by the time he woke up and started to face the music. The whole time, Adrian said nothing. He didn't even allow himself the luxury of gloating until the very end, when everything was secured, lethal amounts of radiation had fried the stray DNA he left behind in the attack... and his quarry was at death's door.

    Adrian finally heard gasping and wheezing, after several minutes of strained groaning and suppressed screams coming out of someone's gag. It's time. Adrian slowly turned away from the window, and slowly removed the old man's gag, making sure that the peeling tape didn't send that son of a bitch into shock. He even took extreme care to make certain that his enemy's sole source of suffering was the radiation still flooding his body... and the ball bearings that had initially crippled what was left of his mobility earlier. That struggle had been brief, as Adrian had silently stormed the room and aimed for the director first, crippling him on the spot with a small canister of ball-bearing "grapeshot" before dispatching his sole remaining guards.

    "The Whispering Death" silently regarded his enemy. A couple minutes passed, as his victim tried to form words in the midst of his intense suffering. He relished this rare feeling of absolute power. His opportunities to really make full use of his Nuclear Bombardment power were extremely far and few in between, and he wanted to make the most of this occasion.

    "Who... are... you...?" The old man finally spoke, his voice barely traveling through the air. Lights from his large, wall-mounted TV played across the room, the sounds muted two hours before when his gag (filled with temporary paralyzing gas) had taken full effect... and before the radiation had fully taken its toll on his vitality and strength.

    "I'm an enemy you forgot to kill a few years back." A soft but commanding voice wafted through the room, barely reaching the old man's disintegrating ears. "My name should be plastered all over your desk."

    The old man couldn't form any more words in response; he was simply too weak to speak anymore, and his throat was starting to swell shut on him. He started to go into shock, and his will finally started to break before the slowly mounting radiation. He started to bleed more profusely from the festering, heavily irradiated wounds in his legs, and his skin started to visibly crack, bleed, and break down. Soon, he would be barely recognizable... but the worst parts of his transformation would be over after his death. Knowing these things, the old man gave his captor a pleading look. He knew that mercy was too late; he was dead anyway. All he could hope for was a swift end before his already-intense suffering started to increase in orders of magnitude.

    A throwing knife to the head ended the old man. Adrian whispered a prayer to whatever gods this man once worshipped (if any), before deciding to leave the knife in there. The weapon, like everything else in the room, was chock full of radiation, and any DNA or other incriminating evidence would be quickly destroyed by the radiation and its brief after-effects. My bombardment might have a short half-life, but it does a damn good job of hiding itself quickly.

    By the time morning would come around, the radiation would be all but gone, but its after-effects would remain. Three disfigured and disgusting corpses would be found in the penthouse, and their DNA would be destroyed to the point of barely registering in the databases as theirs. Adrian's own incriminating evidence would be long gone, but this trademark attack could only be attributed to the mysterious, unidentified figure known to certain people as The Whispering Death.

    Knowing this, Adrian simply savored the moment, but he eventually turned his attention to the TV, where it was displaying another instance of brutality... This time, it involved some gangsters beating the snot out of the popular vigilante hero Black Wasp. So those are the Greedy Goddesses? They don't seem like all that much. Whatever... They beat the crap out of Wasp, so they're probably something to watch out for. I suppose I'll have to look them up, just in case I need to call in a favor later down the road.

    As for Wasp... looks like she'll be out of commission for a while. If I make good progress, I might even spare time to help her get her own dose of revenge. With those thoughts in mind, Adrian decided to swiftly leave the building before the bribed guards and/or other reinforcements arrived at the building. It would never do for an avenger to be caught in the act. Cautiously taking a back exit, the black-robed figure disappeared into the streets of the city, leaving very little evidence of his terrible actions that night.
    Last edited by Cosmic Fury; 01-05-2017 at 02:37 AM. Reason: missing word or three

    Braving the Storm (A Short Story) --

  6. #6
    Pheasant's Avatar
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    Deep Breath. Release.
    You cannot ignore it--
    Deep Breath. Release.
    You saw for yourself--
    Deep Breath. Release.
    Black Wasp has been broken.

    Joshuas eyes opened slowly, as he peeled away from that quiet place in his mind, that foggy nothingness that brought peace.

    But just like the streets below the parking garage, below his dangled legs, there was nothing but chaos and disorder. Cars screamed by like passing doubts and fears, shrill cries stinging his ears like the lingering questions.

    Was Wasp even still alive? Disabled permanently?

    Who would go on to take her place? Certainly there was no lack of meta-humans with a streak of vigilante justice in Solus, but Wasp had been a symbol for a generation growing up.
    Joshua’s generation.

    To deny he looked up to the masked woman would be to deny the dark hood he wore, the belt of mismatched and mostly empty pouches around his waist.

    He was clever, clever enough to design a few small contraptions.
    Pseudo flash-bangs, both lacking much of the flash and the bang thrown together into a refurbished coke can, a pair of old smoke grenades he’d bought on the internet taped together that were probably older than him.

    One thing he lacked however, seriously lacked, was resources. No motor operated grappling hook, just one powered by fifty feet of rope and a lot of huffing and puffing.
    No high tech armored exoskeleton, just a long cloak and some restitched clothes from goodwill that he wore over his gym clothes.

    It was like a parody, comparing the two.

    Until a rogue thought, like a falling star tore through the chaotic sky of his mind,
    “For a Warrior, hesitation and cowardice are the same”
    Joshua glanced down at the mask that had somehow made its way into his hands, an ancient menpo of Japanese origin that had somehow withstood most of the ravages of time.
    It spoke to him, in times like these, often in quotes or monologues whose meanings were not always easy to dissect.
    This time however, its message was clear.

    He felt the gentle curve of the mask wrap around his face and lock itself there comfortably, despite the lack of any strap or support around his head.

    “The SSG is strong…”, Joshua murmured, standing up on the ledge, “How will I dent them if even Wasp couldn’t take them?”
    “She chose to fight them on their terms, with their rules. In this way they are superior. But all strength is built upon the backs of others. Remember the words of Sun Tzu--”
    “One who is skilled uproots the enemies walls, but does not attack…”, he breathed. But the boy was no longer a boy, and no longer Joshua Linton.

    Now, as he withdrew a blade-less oblong sword hilt, he was Blade Master.

    It was not a name the city of Solus knew, not yet.

    But soon, perhaps even Black Wasp would take notice.

    “If not, her enemies certainly shall…”, Blademaster breathed, sliding out the grappling hook, attached to him by a belt of rope.
    A powerful throw caught the ledge of a low rooftop nearby and he was off, swinging into a fire escape and rapidly ascending into the night.
    Last edited by Pheasant; 01-07-2017 at 07:10 PM.

  7. #7
    Calcos's Avatar
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    As written by Calcos and m139

    Erica awoke in a daze, and her head felt like ten tons of cola ready to burst from within a twelve ounce can; as colorfully illogical as that analogy is, the point gets across quite well, we believe. Either way, the room surrounding her was a sterile white color, typical of most hospital rooms. However, her quarters weren’t located within any hospital, but rather, her own home at Vayne manor. Or, more specifically, under Vayne manor, in a location she had since dubbed the “Wasp’s Nest,” adding to the long list of creative naming conventions dealing with her alter ego.

    The bed she was lying in was plain, complete with boring white sheets and boring, fluffy, white pillows. Across from her was a television screen, the black of the empty monitor seeming to stare at her with its lifeless frame. If it were an anthropomorphic television, she’d have told it to stop looking at her in such a fashion. Her focus was immediately redirected back to the pain in her everything, especially her spine. She attempted to sit up, but was only rewarded with a sharp, agonizing sensation shooting up the length of her spinal column, as if the appendage itself were a collective army of emo kids simultaneously slicing open their wrists with fresh razor blades.

    The sensation was, for lack of a better word, fucking unbearable.

    Elsewhere in the building, young Robert was practicing on a dummy. Kick, punch, round kick. Step back, and repeat. Kick, punch, round kick. Step back, and repeat. And again, and again. In fact, don’t even think if you can, because if you do, your thoughts will inevitably fall on Ms. V. And then you’ll want to go see her. And then, after approximately ten minutes or so, Albert will find you and tell you you cannot stay there all day. So, kick, punch, round kick. Step back, and repeat.

    Suddenly, from his nifty little wristwatch, he heard a slight, but continuous beep. By the time he heard it (for indeed, he was very concentrated on not thinking or processing anything) and identified its source, it must have been going off for at least a minute. Now, what did that beeping mean again? There was some mental block in his head. He was not allowing himself to think of it. In fact, he could not even remember its importance. It was not the crime alarm. Was it snack time or something? No… That was not it... it was…

    Ms. V.! The thoughts and images returned to him in an instant, filling his mind like the valley right beyond a dam that has recently exploded. As he took off to the Wasp’s Nest, everything about what that beeping meant came back to him. Well, at least everything that he remembered about it. He had not been listening to well when Albert explained how it would track movement as well as heart rate and half a dozen other things. All he knew was…

    He burst into the very white room, turning so swiftly that he probably left some nasty black skid marks on the floor as he headed to the bedside. “Ms. V.!” he said, quite excitedly and probably too loudly considering the environment, “Thank goodness you are awake!”

    Erica’s eyes scrunched down hard as the drilling pain that was Robert Flayson’s prepubescent voice dug like a rusty spoon into her migraine-riddled brain. “Please, Bobby, for the love of God, a little bit quieter!” she said through clenched teeth. Upon opening her eyes, she took another gander about the room; surrounded by medical equipment and various other pieces of furniture, such as armchairs and a small, round coffee table, the room felt cramped despite the fact that it was at least three times larger than a regular hospital room. It may have had something to do with the fact that there were no windows, as you can’t rightly have windows in a cave several feet below the mansion grounds but…

    In any case, she felt rather uncomfortable, what with all of the apparatuses she was hooked into. The IV drip that was plugged into her arm was still quite sore, and she’s been out of it for at least a couple of days. When she finally found the resolve to speak, she looked over at Bobby, her eyes soft and fighting hard not to betray any of the discomfort (i.e. excruciating pain) that she was currently feeling.

    “What’d I miss?” she asked.

    “Sorry.” Robert had murmured under his breath as Ms. V. reminded him, not for the first time, that this place was, indeed, inside. By the time she finally spoke again, Robert had calmed down enough that he could follow this request- provided, of course, that nothing too exciting happened. But considering Ms. V. was already up…

    Anyways, what had happened? Bobby had not really expected that question. Of course, he would have expected it, if he had thought about it, but he had been so busy thinking about not thinking… This was going to take a bit. Like, half a minute a bit.

    Thirty seconds later, the words came flooding out of his mouth, but this time at a much lower volume than before. “Well, your spine got cracked by that big guy, then you were out. And then that girl came, the one who sometimes shows up after things, Shadow, and she helped me get out. But she took money and I did not get to fight her. Since then, well, you have been asleep. For four entire days. Albert would not let me stay here the entire time. But your name is in the newspaper. And you got some award for heroism or something from the mayor. And, about ten or so of the banks have been robbed in the meantime. Some of them were stopped, but others…”

    He paused for breath, “And then there was the fire on the East side, which may or may not have been an accident, and a couple of murders… And probably some other stuff. I was not paying too much attention… I mean, you were out, and watching the news made me think of you … and Albert said I couldn’t-” At this point, Robert realized his voice was rising again and stopped. “Sorry,” he whispered, “But, anyway, that’s about all that has happened.”

    She tried to jolt upright, only to be reminded that, as her dutifully obnoxious ward had previously stated, her spine was indeed in shambles, and she eased herself back, hissing in severe pain. “ the papers?” she asked, trying to fight the pain long enough to get the words out. ‘You mean…?”

    At this, Robert grinned sheepishly again, “Well, not your full name. Your hero name. Although… um… in the surveillance video, I did say Ms. V… Sorry?”

    Erica shook her head, smiling. “That’s alright,” she said, “Those security cameras don’t pick up audio. You should know that already.” She continued to rest, pondering on the events that had transpired four days ago. She’d never encountered metahumans such as the ones she had, well, encountered at the bank. Before then, her only interactions with the South Solus Gang had been beating the common mooks to a bloody pulp with her bare hands and stopping them from perpetrating whatever asinine scheme they had been plotting.

    However, the one that had done this to her, the hulking mass of metal plating and hatred, was the one that concerned her the most. He had been periodically haunting her nightmares while she had been out of it, at least during the points where she did dream at all. There was something...horribly wrong with that guy, and it wasn’t just his fashion sense. Erica was quite significantly disturbed by his actions; if he was willing to cause her so much agony, to break her the way he did, there was no telling what else he was capable of. What if, God forbid, he went after the children? Or worse...the puppies!

    Turning her head towards Bobby once more, Erica spoke up. “We’re going to have to strike back at the South Solus Gang, Bobby, and hard. But we’ll need help. A lot of it.” With that, she tapped on the touchscreen interface that was conveniently attached to her bedframe; a feature she had specifically requested be available on just about every surface of the manor. With that action came several holographic images of the various metahumans she had been…”surveying” over the past couple of months. There was a literal metric fuckton of information here: real names, addresses, birthdays, monthly horoscopes and even eye color.

    “These people are our best bet, and I say that having no real faith in others whatsoever.” The silence between them was palpable, and her eyes perked up upon realizing what she had just spouted. “Present company excluded, of course,” she said quickly.

    Bobby smiled brightly at this comment, then looked at the pictures and such of the people shown. It was a quick look, because he absolutely hated the background stuff. Boring research, boring memorization. Someday, it will save you in a fight. they all told him. Yeah, someday. When the pen actually was mightier than the sword. Or the fist.

    He turned back to Erica. “So, what exactly are we supposed to do about this all? I’m sure they are good-or at least not bad-people, but what are we going to do about it? They do not do much. And there has been even less of good people fighting since you broke your spine!”

    Bobby looked at Ms. V quizzically. Like her, he knew that something needed to be done. But he did not have a plan. Actually… He did have something of a plan. His plan was to defeat bad guys. But he could not do that without Ms. V. And with Ms. V. down- how was looking at a bunch of pictures supposed to help anything?

    Erica hardened her gaze, reaching out and grabbing Bobby by the wrist with those lightning-quick reflexes of hers, trying her damndest to ignore all the pain that had just caused. “I need you to listen to me, Bobby, and I mean really listen this time. It’s up to you to find these people, to talk to them, get them on our side. This city needs good people to stand up for what’s right. It’s up to you to unify them for that cause. Give them something to fight for, and they’ll fight to the last. I believe in you Bobby. You can do this.” With that, she released her sidekick’s arm, resting her head against the pillow behind her.

    “They’ll listen to you if you have something to say, so make sure you tell them what they need to hear. But you need to get ready to go out on your own. I’ll be in touch, if you need me.”

    “But…” Bobby protested, as the waves of responsibility rose up in towering heights above his head, threatening to drown him, “I’m only…” (he stopped; that excuse would not work) “How can I…” (No, not that one either), “I really just…” (definitely not that one), “What am I supposed to do when I do find them? I can’t just invite them here, right?” There. That would work. Perfect excuse. At least, he hoped.

    Erica chuckled. “Of course not,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t welcome them into our ranks, get their help. Appeal to their better nature, and they’ll come around.” She paused, looking intently into Bobby’s frightened visage. “Now, stop stalling. You’ve got a job to do, and I expect you to get it done,” she said, the harsh tone that she was accustomed to using resurfacing; that same tone she used on Bobby during his first few years of training under her.

    He was not going to get out of this. He knew it now—the plot wouldn’t allow for it. The frightened expression on his face changed to one that was still a bit scared, but now contained a bit of reluctant determination. He had just one last question to ask, “How do I begin-” he started, but then cut himself off. He knew how to begin. It fact, he knew so much of what it entailed that he was sure he would hate this part even more than the recruiting. “Read through the backgrounds.” he muttered to himself as he began to leave the room. “I’ll see you later, Ms. V.. Much, much later.”

    Erica sat back, closing her eyes. “Don’t come back until you’ve worked out a plan. And it better be a good one!” With that, she resigned to try and get some more sleep. Dealing with Bobby was always exhausting.

    If she weren’t opposed to killing, she’d do just that for a glass of wine right about now…
    Last edited by Calcos; 01-08-2017 at 08:45 PM.

  8. #8
    Minkasha's Avatar
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    In a world I struggle to understand.
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    Trio Amore, Gentleman's Club

    Nikisha's ebony ass arched up on the air, the only shield of her dark coco womanhood to the suited onlookers was a black thong. Her skin was layered in body glitter, stripping in the morning because no one told her when the feeling came to dance except her body. Purple streaks of lightning tantalized the eye, jolting up and down her stripper pole to give the place a shocking sex appeal.

    Music was pumping from hidden speakers, leather lounge couches and chairs were neatly decorated on checkered carpet. Young women in tight black or white dresses were passing well dressed men tall glasses of only top shelf drinks, SSG badges pinned on. It was known that those who came here loved to flirt with danger. No cameras were allowed. Nikisha was only to be viewed by the men of Solus who could afford it.

    Her long legs caressed the bar and she dropped into a split, breasts shaking their tassels. The black woman flipped over her blue hue dyed frill of hair. Inside, Nikisha felt twisted, angered, and disrespected. What Warpath did was unforgivable. Already she was having her people get to work on what to do after his sadist spree on the super heroine. That shit wasn't okay - not by a long shot.

    For Nikisha, popping her p*ssy on stage was therapy. And she needed a lot of it - hundreds of dollars awaited her pick up from the stage floor. Who cares if it was only 10 in the morning? Men would come.

    That was the cool part of being a woman. Men did shit for you because you ask.

    In the corner of her eye she noticed her platinum blonde sharp shooter bad ass tatted right hand looking at her and nodding her head. That woman was rad, Nikisha appreciated her - when the woman kept her distance. She may have been a sharp shooter, but her hands were also a bit intrusive. The fantasy of chick on chick wasn't as hot when one person was trying to get business done. The Triple Goddesses were anarchists and business women - get out of the way!

    Following Vivian's nod, Nikisha stood - long tassels shimming one last time for the gentleman before she clapped her hands and the music faded, coming back to jazz and lighting throughout the club evening out to a nice dim atmosphere. The black woman helped herself off stage, the stripper money she left behind begging taken by her waitresses as extra income. Nikisha didn't need pocket change.

    Vivian slowly let her sharp eyes scan up and down her ebony leader by the sauntering stripper/boss/feminist icon entered the back. A large room with several wooden desks all nearly organized with piles of papers, manila folders labeled on their tabs with well written ink, and two tablets side by side an opened laptop. A handsome Asian man was working diligently, eyes narrowed onto the screen. The music being pumped into the office was nearly nonexistent to his ears. This hot and rowdy paper pusher was Jin Xu, yes of Xu family. Vivian had respectfully opened the door for her boss, flipping her hair back to get a better view of what boss was up to.

    Partially bitterly single, and much more ambitious workaholic Jin looked from his screen to swallow once and lean back in his spinning chair. He liked Nikisha, he liked all three of them. How she walked in here so confidently and so naked only fuled many handy pick me ups, if you know what I mean.

    "Ma'am" Jin said respectfully and lowered his head briefly, fingers touching each other and stretching. "I have the jist of your speech down. But I will once again tell you that your association with Warpath is increasing stock value, not decreasing it" Nikisha turned the laptop around and slammed on the desk.

    "I don't give a damn about my stocks if I'm not doing what I promised SSG to be. He's going and that's it" Nikisha wouldn't have it any other way. Her furious and sensual anger made the lowly lawyer leaned back further in his chair to display submission. It's genrally how Nikisha kept her menz, gurl ok? "Have the press ready and I don't want to hear anything else about it"


    It was a half hour later where Lin was standing on a podium at city hall. The influence of SSG so mixed she was able to stand before the very buildings of justice. Everyone was taking photos of the villainess celebrity and pop icon. The beautiful Chinese woman put her small hands on the wood surface and sighed.

    "What happened was not anything I anticipated. We, The Triple Goddesses wanted to send a message, but not that one. Warpath has committed something we cannot forgive and our quick alliance will end as fast as it started. The South Solus Gang is against brutality to women and children. We are not those kind of people..." Lin sighed and looked down. The things a leader had to do were harder than she expected, often a lot of the time. Her hearing couldn't tune out all the questions the reporters were yelling all at once or stoop the shuttering cameras. It sounded all like a cloud of chaotic evil ramping up Lin's anxiety. "We're sorry. That's it" Lin finished meekly and turned away. Vivian walked beside her and Jin was waiting in a limousine parked at the base of the steps. Vivian kept the press back and they entered, tinted windows keeping them separated. The car began to drive and her two loyal people stared at her. Lin was staring down at her hands.

    "What's wrong?" Vivian's concern wasn't gentle or sympathetic. In fact, her voice sounded mildly impatient. Lin wanted to tell her to back off but only shook her head: they weren't used to seeing her this way. And she wasn't used to being this way. This baggage wasn't what she had signed up for. Lin wanted freedom - that's it.

    "Lin, you know others might retaliate against us for Black Wasp" the lawyer said coolly, keeping even in the situation. He pulled the pen he had behind his ear and put it to a notepad, awaiting her command as he always expected from the beautiful and smart Lin.

    "I know. But if anything I have now moved for Warpath to have to make his own public announcement and redirected the angst that way" Lin slowly nodded, getting herself together enough to look outside the window while they drove through downtown Solus. Jin pressed his lips together.

    "If you truly go through with this, everything we've paid him and you've done will have been a waste. A huge one" he said with some jealousy knowing Lin and the other Greedy Goddesses were sleeping with Warpath."Unless we are going to stay a gentleman's club with merchandise, we are going to need to get our investment back. We won't be able to take the same risks robbing banks if you are attempt a redirect to Warpath. Things have to cool down for a while and that leaves our income solely to clothes, unstable stocks, and dancing. Those business contracts we've just got into are taking the majority of profits until they start generating cash in two months"

    Lin rubbed her face, a slender hand down her cheek. Both choices were bad.

    "We will let Warpath decide. See how he acts, and choose from that. Scream" Lin turned to the professional sniper. "Keep an eye on him and let me know what he does."
    Last edited by Minkasha; 01-09-2017 at 06:24 AM. Reason: Fixing all the typoes from mobile.
    Thank you MayhemsCurse <3

    Spoiler: Memorable Quotes 

  9. #9
    Splat's Avatar
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    With a relieved sigh, Claudia eased herself into her comfortable chair, allowing herself to sink into the soft fabric. She had just arrived home to her small but cozy apartment, throwing her equipment (which included a beautiful and specially-tailored recurve bow) haphazardly onto the coffee table. She hadn't bothered to even take off the outfit of her alter-ego before she took a short rest. God knew she had earned it.

    The slender, auburn-haired woman reached for the television remote and began to flip through channels. Politics here, a cartoon there. She paused with a smirk at a local news channel story: three jewel thieves had been incapacitated and restrained by an unknown force, store owner and police grateful for vigilante appearance. One of mine, she thought, remembering the cries of the store's clerk and the satisfying thud as her arrows knocked out the assailants.

    She continued to browse the television listings until a flashy red header caught her eye, along with a specific name. Black Wasp. Breaking News, the headline read in bold, blaring letters, famed vigilante Black Wasp injured by bank robbers, suspects still at large. Claudia's face tightened. There wasn't a soul in Solus that hadn't heard of Wasp and her works of justice- Claudia almost considered her a role model, in the vigilante sense. So seeing the security footage of a huge, machine-like man so easily break her... it definitely drained her of her high-spirited mood after the jewel store victory.

    Claudia pushed herself out of the chair and turned off the TV. She glanced over at her bow, her brilliant golden eyes able to take in every minute detail of its familiar surface, even in the low light. "At least I can always count on you," she said aloud, then immediately questioned why she was talking to her weapon. Need some sleep, she thought decidedly, and sauntered off to her bedroom, slowly removing the costume of the hero whose mantle she found herself donning more these days.

    Meanwhile, on the other side of the city...

    Hey, Haru... you awake?

    A young girl dressed in a cute purple romper sat up in her bed, one of many in a large room filled with sleeping children. In the bed next to her, a boy stirred and turned over on his side to look at the girl. If the room was lit, one would notice that their facial features were almost exactly alike, down to the expressions they wore.

    I am now, the boy responded, but not with his voice: he reached out with his mind to communicate with the girl, his sister. You know, you should really sleep, Hana. Sleep deprivation can cause many symptoms; aches, confusion, fatigue-

    Don't lecture me, brother, Hana interrupted. You wouldn't think you could interrupt someone's thoughts, but it's quite possible, and quite annoying. I'm just not tired. I want to go... do something.

    Haru sighed and peeled the blanket off of himself, sitting up. He scratched at his head of short, unusually-silver hair, his eyebrows knitting in an almost comical sarcastic gaze. Can't we just have one night off? he asked her. She gave him no response, only a slight radiated feeling of annoyance and reluctant acceptance. Haru couldn't help but snicker quietly.

    We can do something tomorrow night. Something cool, promise. But Hana was not listening; it seemed after the prospect of adventure was gone, she went out like a light. Haru smiled and laid back down into bed, wondering what the other heroes were up to on a clear night like this.

    Quite an experience to live in fear, isn't it?

    Art Thread
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  10. #10
    Imperfectly Impossible
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    Hmm...Fantasy with a twinge of maturation. I'll throwdown in the arena too
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    'Who is it??'

    The wiry voice crackled from the old apartment speaker almost too quickly. As if the figure had been awaiting the annoying buzzing of someone at the front door.

    'Package for a Mr. Black'

    The young delivery man stood with one hand clasping the plastic envelope, about the shape of a manila folder. Flinn couldn't help but make a mental note of how long it took for the voice to answer back now. So long in fact, that the hidden hero couldn't help but replay the last time he was in this part of Solus City. Strangely he couldn't recall the exact date but smoke damage and burn marks on the street and surrounding buildings hinted it was recent. Or, at the very least that the city really needs to start pouring money into that 'we save you from the heroes that save you' fund he had heard on the news.

    'What kinda package?'

    'Hmm? Just an envelope, says it's from the Royal Puppeteering Association. Guess it would be RPA for short...'

    What the crap is that? Sounds kinda hoity toity to me. Who even puppeteers these days? Ah whatevs, to each their own.

    '....Gah, pr....Be....ging....r'


    The sound accompanying the buzzer was of course the door unlocking, without missing a step Flinn got himself inside and was quickly jumping up the stairs by threes up to the third floor. Coming out into the hallway, he was met by the door to apartment 306 swinging wide. A vaguely familiar figure slinked out from the dark apartment. It was weird the feeling that swept up Flinn. The visage of the man was so reminiscent, he just couldn't place where. Without wanting to seem too absent minded the delivery man stepped forward and slid the envelope into the Mr. Black's hand.

    'Have yourself a good day.'

    His cheerful farewell wasn't reciprocated and the man vanished quickly back into his apartment, leaving Flinn to his own thoughts once again. I know that guy from somewhere, think, think....or better yet focus on what's coming. Right, right. After hearing about the beat down Black Wasp took the other day from South Solus Goons she definitely would be cashing in her favor. After all it is her tech that has been making things hella lot easier for you. It was true that Ignition and Black Wasp had crossed paths a few times before, and Flinn was sure the recounting of those stories would differ greatly for all those involved, but they always managed to get the job done. With a quick look at his watch the energetic spitfire thumped and hopped back downstairs and out into the busy street. The throng a suits and briefcases indicated only one thing.


    Clicking his heels Flinn swam through the river of bodies, making his way back to Saj's and Heb's International Transporters. (Or you know S.H.I.T for short) There he tossed his uniform in his backpack and hopped back on his bike before heading back to his apartment. Upon arrival it was apparent someone else was already inside.

    'Clara, you can't just come over unannounced. What if I'm bringing some lady over, or worse what if we are already inside.'

    The firebrands tone was in jest, and slightly higher in octave as he tried to oversell the reasoning. Truthfully he was still hiding his real life from her, you know the whole protecting you by not telling you chestnut. So far it had worked fine, except for the strange wedge it was creating in his relationship with his only sister. Kinks to be ironed out, thanks for spilling my guts out everywhere though. His sister greeted him with a flagrant look of disbelief.

    'Listen Fly, until that actually happens I'm not going to stop stopping in uninvited. Plus the whole incident will be way more embarrassing for you than me. Or, how about you just tell me what's going on really? Personally I'm way more pro option two than option one.'

    ' Clara c'mon. This is getting hella annoying. Nothing is going on, for the last time. We are still super tight bro-sis combo! I'm just trying out the night life is all. It isn't half bad to tell you the truth, in fact I really like it.'

    Game, set, match. The trick is to sell the lie with some truth. Flinn could tell by the change in his sister's demeanor that worked. She began shuffling her textbooks in her bag and stood up, the tiniest bit of resentment in her eyes.

    'Uh ok, I get it. I'm just worried for my brother is all. With all the crazy that has come to Solus City, I just don't want you to get caught in any of it.'

    Although no sound was made Flinn definitely gulped at his sisters retort. He reached out and tried to pull her in to give her some reassuring hug but was met with an uncanny dodge. She smiled at seeing her brother stumble forward and almost tripping.

    'Just don't forget about tomorrow ok? I'll be here at ten o'clock.'

    Evidently the speed and energy was a family trait as his sister was quickly out of the apartment and hustling down the stairs. Flinn composed himself but couldn't help but feel a sense of regret in his gut. Why haven't I just told her, plot reasons I'm sure, but it's hella annoying. Tossing off his casual clothes he dressed in his Ignition gear, which was nothing more than the bracers from BW and pants. Now prepared for the night of crime fighting he lurched through the window out onto the fire escape. Getting to the rooftop every night was special to the young firework. The city was beginning to light up and the expanse seemed to convert from a grid of addresses and streets to a playground for the hero.

    With a deep breath, he begins stretching out and going over tonight's 'plan'.

    'Step one, go down to the south part of the city, graffiti some of the SSG's stuff with things that will annoy them, as is custom almost every night. Step two, prevent some form of crime preferably something that will garnish the attention of other heroes: ie BW or her little dude...fuck what's his name again, yellow jacket? Nah, that isn't it. Aw crap why can't I remember. It's a color: Blue ball? Hehe no, Pink Floyd? No, no, no. Red Wing!! Red Wing, haha. Step three, if crimes don't accomplish goal, write it in the sky.'

    Resolved and quite limber, Ignition made his way to SSG territory to once again leave a small burned picture of one of the goddesses in a compromising pose. It was always easy to follow one of their goons to a spot and then with his finger etch his mark into the wall. Tonight was Lin and a very oblong appendage with the words 'Slurpy Seconds Girl' titled under it. Flinn knew it was silly and immature, but deep down he pictured how riled and annoyed members of the gang would get seeing it. Small victories in Solus City were sometimes the most sweet tasting. Having accomplished his routine he made his way back towards city center in hopes of hearing a police scanner, or hearing someone call out to help. You'd be surprised that Ignition never seemed to find it difficult to find something shady going on.

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