Discussion in 'Non-Star Wars Role Playing Archive' started by SephyCloneNo15, Sep 8, 2007.
OOC: Be patient.
GM's OOC: Sorry for the delays. I'm waiting on a few people who had expressed an interest to submit sheets to me, and I've got some housekeeping. Expect a start this weekend.
GM's OOC: Well, today's the day. There's a lot of information, not just the opening of the game, so bear with me, it may come in multiple posts.
First of all, I'd like to direct your attentions to Saintheart and blubeast1237. They have been appointed Co-GMs, and it will be their job to handle the one-shot issues between all the major world-changing arcs, leaving me with more time to focus on the main plot. Therefore, if you have any ideas for one-shot issues, please direct them to one or both of the Co-GMs, not me (it will, eventually, get to me, via them, though).
Second of all, Saint reminded me that I had promised you a brief summary of the Geography of Isaiah Rivers, so here goes:
Isaiah Rivers is a big city in Massachusetts on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. The streets running north and south are numbered, starting at 1st Street right along the coast and increasing in number as you go west. The east-west streets are named. Along the coast are all the things you'd expect to find on the coast of a comic book city, there's a fish market, a series of ports, and a pier-mounted amusement park, which certain IR Historians speculate was built around the Superhero Boom for the express purpose of epic Batman-versus-Joker-style battles for the media to pounce on.
The Southeast portion of town, from roughly 10th Street to the Sea and everything south of Archangel Ave. (the dividing line between the north and south halves of the city) is the rougher part of town, IR's Bronx if you will, and its local violence is usually quelled by a quartet of superheroes known as the Fourth Street Vanguard. Their territory virtually monopolizes the shady docks and back alleys of town. They are also the home of Isaiah Rivers East High School.
North of Archangel Avenue is the nicer part of town. Towards the coast, this is celebrated with the rich building their mansions there, including the home of the Mafia's Don, and therefore their de facto base, along with the aforementioned Amusement Park and fish market/tourist trap. In the western parts of the city, that is celebrated with the proud STV towers, from which the vast majority of super-news is generated. STV towers are on the corner of 76th and Archangel. The Generation is also based in this area, on 53rd and Salvatore Blvd. (a few blocks north of Archangel Ave.) Generation Towers features its very own, on-site Graham-Corp, Human Machine, and Genes 'R' Us stores, along with fancy fashion-designers for costumes, all offering special discounts to Generation members.
In this area are a bunch of malls and upper middle class houses, along with Isaiah Rivers West High and Isaiah Rivers University. IR West's mascot is the Angel, while IR U's is the Crusader. IR East's teams call themselves the Blue Beatles. In the Southwestern part of town, just a few blocks too far west to intrude on the Fourth Street Vanguard's territory, is the Graham building, which Libra somehow managed to hold onto after Frederich Graham's "suicide", and now functions as the base of operations for the Crusaders.
Go far enough West, and you'll end up in the suburb of Isaiah Falls, where the truly elite of Isaiah Rivers live. There's not much here other than rich people and the other typical features of the suburbs, such as big fancy malls and high schools full of spoiled kids who think they're better than you. SUVs and sports cars abound, and the cops here are trained to pester you for one over the speed limit.
Edit: Misspelled Beast's name. Fixed it.
GM's OOC: And so it begins. I'm not gonna be too specific on the tags with this one, I wanna see where your characters will choose to go, so that in future situations I'll have a better feel for where to send them.
Isaiah Rivers Issue #1: Starting with a Bang
Isaiah Rivers U: Science Labs
The big, yellow bus pulled up in front of the college campus, and forty-some preteens noisily emerged, along with one frazzled-looking teacher. She graciously shook the hand of the twenty-year-old Chemistry major that came out to greet them. "Mrs. Gallis, I presume?" She nodded. "And these must be the eager young minds, thirsty for knowledge." The screaming children took little notice, and Mrs. Gallis' expression alone said, 'I guess you could say that....'
The student lead the children through the campus, their teaching repeatedly telling them to be quiet so he could point out bathrooms, a rack with the campus newspaper, a payphone, and the student union. Finally, he arrived at the science labs. This was what the kids' parents had filled out the permission slips to show them. One of the students was doing a very complicated experiment with electricity, and if nothing else, it was quite flashy with all its Tesla Coils and whatnot. The students were studying electricity, and the college student in charge of the experiment came to talk to them.
Just then, the lab went dark, the lightning stopped flashing from the big Tesla Coils. Moments later, a shapely old woman in golden, revealing, birdlike armor perched on one dead coil, while an unwashed old man in sagging spandex crouched on the other. Ants crawled about on his face, as if for pure shock value. The Harpy and BÃ¦tle led this attack.
Half a dozen vibrantly dressed characters also emerged from the shadows, all masked, and all almost certainly powered. One wore a slick zoot suit along with a bright green full-face mask. Another was dressed in furs, like a tiger's, complete with claws, fangs, and rippling muscles; his eyes were catlike, yellow with slitted pupils. The third was skeletally skinny, with only his head seeming to have any flesh on it; if you listened closely in the dramatic silence, you could almost hear the machinery in his body, and he would obviously never fool anyone into thinking his left arm was anything other than a chainsaw. Fourth looked almost normal, sunglasses being his only mask; huge muscles and a 9mm pistol seeming to be his only powers. Fifth had horns and a devil goatee and pointed tail, along with a mischievous smile. Sixth and final was clad in blood-red armor with silver accents. Though his body armor looked strictly utilitarian and technical, the helmet was intricately styled with a grin resembling the laughing mask of Greek drama.
Mrs. Galis grabbed a cell phone to call the police, but before she could hit the Talk button, a 9 milimeter-wide hole appeared in the phone. The man with the sunglasses blew smoke from his barrel as though he were Clint Eastwood, and the Harpy spoke. "Grins, make sure no one can get in, save some reckless hero who'll give us the opportunity to kill a hostage or two. Pan, make sure no one else has a phone to go for. Everyone else, position yourselves to kill one of them if anyone tries anything funny."
"Hell, I'm Sal Sundors, reporting live from Isaiah Rivers University, where BÃ¦tle and the Harpy, along with a few Starlight grunts have taken hostage a group of forty elementary school students, along with one teacher, and two college students. They're demanding money and making threats, and all police attempts to negotiate have been met with verbal hostility. I think we all know what this situation [i]really[/i] requires.... More on this as it develops, back to you, Ted."
[b]Tag: Whoever feels they'd head here[/b][hr][i]First Bank of Isaiah Rivers[/i]
OOC: I'll bite. One small warning to everyone: you'll see the odd set of sentences phrased in the first person whilst the rest of the post is in the third person. This is an attempt to emulate the Batman style of comic narration, where Bruce Wayne's handwriting came in small square panels giving small insights as the action proceeded. Hopefully this will help me stay with the whole comic-book feel. It's an experiment, as I say...
IC - Samuel Shadlowe/Nocturne
At the corner of 26th and Salvatore Blvd
Close to the First Bank of Isaiah Rivers
I leave the DA's office for my lunchbreak and this happens.
The First Bank of Isaiah Rivers.
Shadlowe slowly moved the wheel of his car, and the less-than-recent Ford Taurus moved into an open parking space about a hundred metres up from the bank's front entrance. The prosecutions lawyer sat there behind the wheel for several moments, looking down the street at the chaos of red-and-blue lights and black-and-white cars all circled around the front of the place. He could see some of the cops scurrying from the cover of one car to another. It was obvious that this had turned into a hostage situation.
The resignation that Shadlowe had been feeling began to crystallise into something else at that thought. It was his lunch break -- and that of most of the people in this part of town. There could be women. Children. And the way the police were running around in that cordon of theirs, the criminals were obviously armed. Possibly well armed. He decided, and got out of his car.
Of course, I could walk down there, show my ID to one of the police and ask what's going on...except for that.
He'd spotted the news van sitting a short distance from the police cars. The last thing he wanted to do was call attention to himself. Instead, Samuel got hold of the small sports bag that was always with him or close by him, turned, and walked calmly down the closest alleyway he could find. There, in a series of broken shadows, he glanced around, and quickly disrobed and reclothed himself with the speed of long practice. And as he pulled the grey hood over his head, the metamorphosis was complete; Samuel Shadlowe was gone; a grey shadow named Nocturne had emerged.
The shadow looked around once more, then to the surroundings. A few alleyways ... and the tops of the buildings as well. With all their slanting rays of daylight, illuminating pot plants and curtains gently shifting in the breeze.
One thirty in the afternoon.
This is going to hurt.
Nocturne teleported, his body winking out in a spray of black, foglike particles, and then reappearing on top of a fire escape. He repeated that action three or four more times, making it to the top of the building with a jump that brought him into daylight.
It drove him to the tarmac with an explosion of pain in his head. He hissed with the agony, writhing on the ground, feeling the darkness begin to close in...
You can't let them do this.
...and he slowly got to his feet, staggering to the edge of the building. With a gasp, he crouched down, head spinning, pain shrieking in his guts, looking over the side. There: an alleyway closer to the bank, inside the police cordon. And near the top of the alley, close to the street itself, but still in shadow...
Nocturne felt a groan of pain escape his body as he threw himself over the side of the building, dropping, falling into shadow...where he teleported again, his body clouding out and then reforming safely on the ground of the shadow-caressed alley, about five metres from the top of the alleyway, where a young patrolman was standing facing away from him.
Didn't even hear me behind him. Kids these days...
Nocturne called on one of his other powers, shifting his body into shadows again, and approached as close as he dared to the officer. Then he softly called out. It was not Samuel Shadlowe's[/b
The Gray Guard
Above Isaiah Rivers
Above the clouds, smiling in the warmth from the sun, was the Gray Guard. Those skalds on man's ground were fond of calling him that, and though he wished they'd address him by his proper name, modesty prevented him from commenting on it.
They also called him Erik Freygard, his old name. Not his name, exactly, not the misnamed hero's name. That was the name of the mortal he now occupied, the mortal he'd sent to Valhalla to dine forever with Odin himself! Erik Freygard had been chosen for this gift, though this hero would often think of it as a regrettable action. Erik was an innocent, and he could never forgive himself for what he had done.
And so the misnamed hero lived in Erik's sacrificed body. On his arrival, the hero had shaped it to his needs, to an image of his former form. He was Wulfgar Ragnarson, reborn! A warrior for Odin, and a protector of the innocent. Though Wulfgar was long gone, slain in mighty battle, Odin had seen fit to return him to Midgard.
Rumbling thunder in miniature caught his ear. Odin spoke to him. The Wizard's Hall - the young ones are under attack!
With a thought, Wulfgar soared to the city below, seeking out the Hall. If children were in danger, then Wulfgar would see to it that the fiends would be torn limb from limb.
Odin spoke again. The treasure hoard! Another attack!
Wulfgar set his jaw. Gold was gold, lives were lives. There was no thought, as he streaked to the hall.
An outsider to this train of thought would've found it very odd that this supposedly-aged man though Tesla a wizard.
Tag: Sephy, others at the university
IC: The Psycho
Apartment 107, Signature Park Brownstones, Isaiah Rivers, Massachusetts
"Mmmmm," the Psycho inhaled deeply, "oh yes, you do have very pretty eyes, don't you? Yes, you're a nice little girl, you said you were seven? Oh, such a beautiful little girl, yes, with your long brown hair pulled back into a cute little ponytail." He inhaled again through his nose, sniffing almost violently as if trying to smell something that wasn't there. "Do you take a bath every night, dear girl? Oh, I bet your mommy and daddy are very strict about that, yes. You don't like baths? Oh, I could make you like them, I give verrry good baths, oh yes, and sometimes the people I give baths too aren't even bathing in water! Oh, it's this red stuff, yes, very red, and it stains your clothes too, stains are oh so terrible, yes? You wouldn't want to- yes? Oh, Mrs. Winters, how lovely to be speaking with y-... what? Well I'm only having a nice conversation with her! Oh dear, no, you wouldn't do that! Me and little Ariel are friends, such good friends! But how do you think that would make me feel, never talking to your daughter again? Hello? Hello? HELLO!?!?
The Psycho hurled the phone at the wall and watched as it shattered onto the carpet below, wires hanging out and batteries flying here and there. He sat up on the ripped leather sofa that he was lying on and rubbed his half-shaven head in his palms. His conversation with little Ariel had carried on for nearly a minute! That was a new record, most of the people he talked to hung up after the bath part.
"I'm so BORED!!!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Hm, I wonder what's on dear old television?" Sitting up from the couch, he walked a few steps to the small television set and turned it on. He could have used the remote had it not been obliterated in a similar fashion as the phone. He hated it when the Red Sox lost.
Now on the television was a newscast about a bank robbery at the First Bank of Isaiah Rivers. "Hm! Well that's mighty interesting." He rubbed his chin. "But Barely Legal Three comes on in an hour... I paid ten dollars for it... oh well, I'll make it up out of some guy stupid enough to walk in an alley by himself tonight." Turning off the television, the Psycho slipped on some underwear, blue jeans, and his signature tie die shirt, and headed out of the front door of the apartment, waving goodbye to all of his belongings as he did so and blowing the unbuttoned blouse on his floor a kiss. "She was so beautiful," he muttered, and glanced down at the blood stain on his pants as he walked down the stairs and onto the brownstone's parking lot.
Outide The Science Lab Of Isaiah Rivers University,Wind Weapon stands, thinking quietly to himself....[/hl]
Wind Weapon sighed. His job was to stand outside the science lab and look menacing enough to ilicit fear. To complete the picture he held a struggling (and increasingly annoying) preteen by the arm.
He supposed that this job was, although unfavorable, the best way to bait a few Generation.
It was what he'd taken the job for, it was the perfect way to take out a few of the overconfident media-whores, what better way to increase their image than saving a bunch of helpless kids from the big baddy mafia.
The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that any moment now a kid with a t.v. reporter would come around the corner, with a big heroic speech prepared.
The kid's struggling brought Wind Weapon back to reality. Harpy had given him a choice as to which kid he brought outside, Wind Weapon had picked one at random.
And now he was paying for it.
"Lemme go, lemme go you son of a...."
Wind Weapon then unleashed his anger with a swarm of slices towards the water-fountain infront of him. The slices cut away at the fountain, and when that was finished the wall behind it took the final beating. In the end, the attack left the water fountain in peices and the wall was so cut up that the pipes were revealed, pouring some water on the floor.
It was a purposely weak attack, but it was enough of an example. Wind Weapon didn't even speak to the now quiet child, there was no need.
TAGS: sephy, anyone at the school
Near the First Bank of Isaiah Rivers[/hl]
Heretic stood his black clothes an outline against the sun. He stood in the darkness of an alleyway across the street from the crime scene. His eyes scanned the policemen in front of the bank. He knew that there were eight men inside with guns. He knew one of the guns was much more dangerous than any other. It most likely targeted those with powers. Heretic knew it would hurt him, but not nearly as badly as any other hero.
Heretic was thinking up possible scenarios for rescue of the hostages when in front of him an icy voice appeared. His black cloak had covered him from Nocturne eye?s. He listened.
"Patrolman. Don't turn around, you won't see me. My name is Nocturne. You may have heard of me. What's the situation here?"
Heretic moved silently forward until he was next to the spot where the voice had sounded. His eyes targeted the air and the machines in his mask picked up strange vapors. Definitly Nocturne. Heretic whispered his raspy and deep voice barely audible.
?There are eight men inside with weapons. Hostages are definite. One has a strange gun. Exceedingly dangerous.?
IC: Chandler Billings (The Artist)
Isaiah Rivers University
"Hmm, let's see what I can do to defuse this situation." Chandler said as he saw the hostage holders through one of the schools windows. He proceeded to take out a sketchbook and a seemngly well used pencil. "Let's see how well these morons do while dealing with a bunch of hawks buzzing around." he added with a chuckle, he continued to draw several large red-tailed hawks and walked up to the window. He slowly opened it, careful not to let any sound come from it. He then pressed his palm to his hawk drawings, instantly they appeared before him, full sized and three dimensional. "Ok boy's I want you to go in there and distract those hostage holders busy long enough for a SWAT team to get in." he whispered so as not to be overheard. The hawks all nodded in unison and proceeded to dive bomb through the window. "Good luck guys." he added as he saw them go in and head for the hostage holders. "I hope this helps." he added.
TAG: Anyone who's going to help
The Gray Guard
Wulfgar stopped his speedy descent mere inches before slamming into the roof of the building. The world's own force had pulled him here, and coupled with Odin's gift of flight, it had taken no more than three minutes. He stepped onto the stone rooftops, eyes seeking an entrance to the hall of learning.
Ah, my son, but they shall be waiting at the entrances, whispered Odin. Wulfgar nodded, and looked up to the sun. The rays he'd been enjoying before Odin came to him still lingered in his body. He decided to let them out.
His fist glowed briefly, and he swung it down into the roof, smashing a hole into it. It would do as a start, but more needed to be done. Erik's voice came to him, something it rarely did. Why should it, if he were in glorious Valhalla?
I know this won't make sense to you, but kinetic and potential energies can help you here. You may not know it, but you can absorb and redirect energy, he said. Wulfgar nodded - he knew some of this, but preferred instead his fists. Try it my way, said Erik, Let yourself fall into the roof - fists outward. Gravity - except you don't know that, let's say it's the Earth pulling you to it, when you fall. Try it.
Wulfgar frowned, even as he raised himself into the air. Just fall, came the voice, and he did. He was only three trolls high when he let himself fall. Power surged through him, and he accelerated his fall, crashing through the roof and ceiling, landing on his feet on the floor below. A small crater formed on impact.
"Many thanks, friend Erik." he whispered aloud with a smile, before thinking, But now what?
Tag: Folk at the university
IC Michael Le-Mar
Typical. So typical.[/b] Michaels thoughts ran through his head as he was huddled in the corner of the bank. It was so typical the ONE day he decided to go to the bank that week it gets robbed, his mind raced, he considered all possible escape routes and even attack options in a second. None seemed appealing to Michael after all he was CONTROLLER! the greatest criminal planner of all time! and he was stuck in some stupid bank.
He wondered the possibility of the heroes coming in, that be ironic capture some nobody crooks and at the same time save a super villain Michael laughed inwardly at the thought of it. He glanced at the clock and sighed, only two seconds had passed and he'd gone through ALL options. His eyes suddenly widened and he fell back into the desk and began to hold his head in his hands the splitting headache ripped through his mind like a lawsuit did to some of his clients bank accounts. He began to moan slightly in pain and the last thought passing through was he wondered if the police would react to this before he ceased thought only concentrating on trying to keep the pain from overcoming him.
IC: Jaycen Spade
Isaiah Rivers -- Dark Alley
A commercial Air-Liner flies through a clear blue sky, sihloutted by the sun behidn it. It's that time of day in Isaiah Rivers, the time of day where the clouds seem to linger, and the sun is in just the right spot that a plane can cast a shadow on the ground. As luck would have it, the plane passes over an unassuming alley, darkened by the large buildings on either side. The plane's shadow melds into the alley, disappearing into the shadows. Time stopped.
To the casual observer, nothing happened, time had come to a halt, and no one would be the wiser. Everyone in visual range of the alley, and those entering that range, would suddenly halt, midstep, or leap, frozen as if the world was suddenly cast into an Ice Age, with out all the water. No one would notice, no one would take heed. But, while all others were stopped in time, one person still moved about. Jaycen Spade slid out of the shadows, as if the darkness had pushed him out, like osmosis in a cell. As quickly as it stopped, time sped up again, everyone that had been frozen moving in double time to catch up with the rest of the world. Their actions, movements, and speech was already predecided before the speed up, and it did them no harm. They would never know that they had been stopped dead for nearly a minute. Jaycen had never cared to think of how many years he had added to his life by slowing time. Being the only one moving about while everyone else stood still did them no harm, since they didn't add a second to their lives. Their heart, cells, everything stopped fo rthose moments, while his did not. He stood still as time rushed about him, unable to keep up with the world. Another minute his body worked that others didn't. Another minute that aged him where no one else did. He may have been born 25 years ago, but his body must have been 27 or 28 years old.
He stepped out of the alley, his large "Aviator" sunglasses blocking out the sun that hurt his eyes. His arms and body were ghostly pale, despite the fact that he wore a tanktop all day long. The white skull the black takntop bore on his chest was a constant reminder of his looming future. Premature aging and death, as far as time was concerned. His baggy Camoflaged pants were an ominous reminder of the small coutry town he came from, and the death he served out. His combat boots sent him back to his short lived military career, a time he rather not think about. Finally his large blet was a constant forshadowing of the demonic cowboy he kept bottled up deep inside. A superpowered being by fate, He had complete control of his alter ego, though it brought out a different part of him. The Shadows powered the monster, and the Shadows could take that power away. Darkness was his forte. Good and Evil his play things.
IC The Huntress
"Goddess" she muttered "how i hate cities, barely any grass,no wind and the foul stench of rotting everything. Well Luna the Goddess has sent us here to do her bidding" Luna growled "I know girl you hate as well, trust me I wish we were back in olympics." All of a sudden Luna bristled with rage and then she heard the familiar silky purr that was Luna's way of talking through her mind I smell fear, the fear of children and mixed with it is evil and rage "where is it Luna" somewhere near hear don't you sense it "now i am starting to pick it up, lets go Luna" Alright Stephanie, but then what will happen after that "i dont know girl whatever happens happens" she said as she got on Luna's back. As soon as they approached the university Stephanie noticed the hawks, but there was something wrong with them they weren't natural,looking up she saw a brillant streak falling through the sky then there was a cloud of dust and rubble "Luna, watch my back ok girl" Luna gave a low growl which Stephanie knew was a yes, she knew she had to get into that building but how?
Tag Anyone at the University
Isaiah Rivers University: Science Labs
The first issue to effect the hostage-taking was a small flock of hawks showing up, clearly as a distraction. With practiced ease, BÃ¦tle flicked open one of the cannisters at his waist, a swarm of angry bees emerging from the contained dimension. They buzzed up among the hawks to distract the distractions.
The next surprise came from above, The Gray Guard crashin through the celing and onto the floor, damaging some of the equipment. Harpy snapped her fingers, her taloned gauntlets making the task challenging, were it not for her decades of practice. The well-muscled man in the sunglasses pulled the trigger and grabbed another hostage in one practiced movement, "Your move, hero," the old lady said in a voice that was once seductive, "Going to kill the children, or you gonna listen to our demands, suga?"
Tag: Peng, chanbill
Wind Weapon was not wrong. Mere minutes after the thought had crossed his mind, a teenage hero dashed around the corner. She was obviously new at this thing, and one could tell by her movements that she was mostly in it for the royalties. In a few years, she would probably earn her college spending money lewdly if she went to any college outside IR.
Her revealing Spandex costume was clearly meant to arouse first and protect second, with large gaps to show off her navel and cleavage, and some sort of superheroine logo in a spot where you would get slapped if you looked long enough to decipher it. Luscious red hair cascaded down to her shoulders, and her mask covered the bare minimum of her face that would be cute by the standards of her high school classmates.
She lacked the grace and style of an official member of the Generation, although she was obviously a member of the STV Generation. "Hey, cutie," she crooned, "Pick on someone your own size."
[b]Tag: GraySaberFreque[/b][hr][i]Elsewhere on the IRU Campus[/i]
The artist could hear his hawks screaming as they were attacked by something inside, and as a hero crashed into the building, it became obvious the police would be staying out here where they would not become collateral damage n a clash of titans.
Meanwhile, on the edge of the campus, the Huntress searched for a way in. She and Luna were momentarily struck by a new smell mingling with the overall impression of fear: death. In her shock and disgust, she looked even harder, and access became clear. An open window to the lab above the top of a lower building with several easy-looking ways up, like a high fence to climb most of the way up, or a nearby statue whose head was almost level with the roof of the building.
"This is Sal Suthors with an important update on the IRU situation! An unidentified hero has just crashed through the roof of the lab, and gunfire has been heard, although we can't know for certain whether it was directed at the hero or at a hostage. More on the situation as it develops."
[b]Tag: chanbill, POLARIUS[/b][hr][i]Outside the 1st Bank of Isaiah Rivers[/i]
Contrary to the advice of the hidden hero, the young officer turned around. "Well..." Not seeing anyone to talk to, the cop assumed it was his imagination and trailed off, turning back to face the bank. Waiting...
Nearby, an STV reporter stood waiting. Almost as soon as heroes showed up, he would be on the air. He cleared his throat, waiting, practicing his speech, saying "Blank" wherever a hero's name would go.
[b]Tag: Saintheart, NickLitYouAFlame[/b][hr][i]Elsewhere[/i]
A hero and a villain walked practically side by side, though niether of them knew it. On one side of the street, strode [b]Jaycen Spade[/b], and on the other, [b]Frank Ogden[/b]. Neither seemed to have a destination, and niether would likely recognize the other as anything more than some oddly dressed yahoo on the street. Just being one yahoo in either crowd of yahoos helped limit the likelihood of the two noticing each other. Of course, as soon as one acted, the other would likely [i]re[/i]act. Then the jig would be up>
[hl=yellow]"Hey, cutie," she crooned, "Pick on someone your own size."
Wind Weapon looked toward the corner, and there stood the teenaged "super heroine". Wind Weapon turned to face her, dragging the kid with him.
Upon seeing the hero, the pre-teen spoke in the most immature tone ," Ha, now you'r gonna get it."Wind Weapon brought his fist down on the kid's head, knocking him out. Free of its burden, his hand let go of the child's limp arm and allowed him to lay on the ground.
Wind Weapon obseved the teen emotionlessly. Her costume was revealing and her demeanor gave off the " I'm a super hot movie star" feeling.
Generation Scum if he'd ever seen one.
At that moment, he unleashed one slice of wind, and sent it in the heroine's direction.
IC The Huntress
"Ok Luna, time to decide do we want to go the window or over the statues head and onto the roof" through the window "but the roof adds the element of surprise" Yes but i weigh about 250 lbs so where ever we go through i will give that up "Ok through the window, and i thought cats were supposed to be light on their feet" Luna growled with a bit anger at the last remark.as they got closer to window they could see people, the smell was almost overpowering of fear and death, there was aa older looking woman with talons around her fingers and a strange dirty man who seemed to be controlling the bees who were attacking the fake hawks. She also saw in front of the older woman a man who was wearing viking garb all around she sensed evil but through him she sensed an overwhelming feeling of honor and courage "Goddess" she said in a low voice "empower me as you guardian to do right in this place of evil"
Tag whoever want to go next
IC: Chandler Billings (The Artist)
"No." Chandler said as he watched his hawks fall lifeless to the ground. Pain wracked his heart and tears fell from his eyes. "They will pay for that." he added fury rising in him like a flood. He proceeded to turn to one of the pages in his sketchbook, a sythe who's blade was covered in flame. "Let's see how you do against the blade of death." he added, he reached through the sketchbook and grasped the sythe, pulling it out with a flury of flames following it, he gave it a few practice swings, flinging fire left and right. "Time to get things moving." he said and he burst through the window and swung his blade at the first of the hostage holders, sending waves of fire at them. "No one hurts my hawks and gets away with it." he added as he watched them burn.
TAG: Any in the University
IC The Huntress
Watching as another man came through the window with a flaming sythe, she said "ok luna, lets go and i want you to roar as if you are trying to imitate a thunder clap" got it and i am right behind you and with that they both leapt from their cover, RRRRROOOAAAAARRRRR, she rigged her crossbow and let about four bolts fly on the way down hitting the strange looking man who seemed to control the insects. "By the power of the Earth Goddess i demand you let these children go" she shouted as she let more bolts fly
Tag any at the university
IC: Chandler Billings (The Artist)
'The Earth Goddess, I wonder if she means Gaia?' Chandler thought as he saw the crossbow wielding maiden. "Hey if you want to deal with these guys there is only one choice, we need to wipe them out. Gaia may weep for the loss of her children but I don't see where we have any choice." Chandler said as he made his way over to The Huntress. "Also you might want to ask Artemis for some divine back up, I don't think we'll be able to take them all." he added swinging his blade and striking one of the Hostage holders, watching as he was sliced in two. "Sorry if this grosses you out any." he added as the criminals bowels fell from the wound.
TAG: The Huntress
Sub-GM OOC: chanbill, I thought by now you would know the rules against godmoding-- and auto-hitting in particular. Friendly piece of advice: Don't do it.
Plus, subject to what SephyCloneNo15 says, given Seph's earlier posts, I think you just guaranteed the immediate termination of several small children. Congratulations.
OOC: I thought there would be none player characters, in otherwords characters that aren't actually controled, like the droids and extra clones on my rpg. I wasn't aware that each hostage holder was controlled by a player, just disregard my last couple of posts. Sorry about that.
GM's OOC: They are technically NPCs, with the exception of Grey's character, but that doesn't mean you are free to disembowel them at will. At least with me, always assume that any NPCs (specifically those that I go to the trouble of naming and heavily describing) are going to put up a fight. Their ineptitude is at the GM's discretion. These are all talented supervillains. If they were inept, there'd be a lot more of them. I may just have to update this scenario a little early to showcase what your indiscretion has earned you...
IC - Nocturne
In the Alley
Heretic. Must be the aftereffects of dropping into sunlight that made me miss his presence.
Nocturne checked that the officer still wasn't looking in his direction, and turned towards the source of the voice, shifting out of the shadows with an effort of will. He crouched down by Heretic in the shadows of the alleyway. Their position seemed to be far enough away from the officer that they'd be able to speak undisturbed. It'd be quite a strange sight, of course, if they were seen -- two men in dark cloaks, skulking around in the shadows...
The question was, what were they to speak about? Nocturne didn't have much use for the other heroes running around Isaiah Rivers; his membership of the Crusaders was a matter more of convenience than actual teamwork. And Heretic's powers made him effectively, well, a brick...
Nocturne turned towards Heretic. "I didn't expect you here. I need you to help me. There's a rear door to this bank. I need you to charge through it. Once it's open, I'll teleport in and we'll deal with these men. Understood?"
TAG: NickLitYouAFlame, SephyCloneNo15
IC: Jaycen Spade
The thing you need to know about Jaycen Spade is that he isn't a single soul. He is a single vessel, the container for three souls, very alike and very different all at once.
The oldest of those souls is only known as It, or the Shadows. It had once been a very powerful being, created by God (if you believe such things), responsible for bringing balance forth into the world. The Angle of Death, as It sometimes refers to itself, had been responsible for some of the darkest deeds in history. It even claims to be solely responsible for the Dark Ages, but again, this is a dark entity, and one to be trusted about as far as it can be thrown.
The second of the souls is known as the Sheriff or the Gunslinger, Slinger as Jaycen calls him. He is the soul of the last being to house It. As a Sheriff in the late 1800's, he brought peace and order to a small town in the west, and with the help of It and another soul, brought balance to the world through great evil deeds. Murders and Robberies were his forte. Jaycen uses the appearance of this being when he's doing his work.
The last soul is Jaycen's. His past is riddled with dark deeds, and It and the Sheriff are working with him to atone for those sins. To bring balance where there is none. It this modern world, Good is hard to come by.
It spoke rarely, and when it did, it's dark, rumbling voice echoed with the voices of the many being it had inhabited through out time. Now it spoke to Jaycen.
This town is riddled with darkness. It reeks of it. It will be a good place for us.
Jaycen ignored it. He had learned that speaking with himself in public gave people the wrong idea. He was thankful for the sentiments though, as they revealed to him that work was ahead...another step in freeing his soul from the grips of Satan.
The Cowboy spoke more often, his raspy southern drawl hardly distinguishable from Jaycen's own voice. He kept silent for now, being a man of few words. He was constantly haunted by the deeds It had forced him to do in his past life, and was in his final stages of atonement. It was a lonely life being a conscious being for so long, and being hidden away in the shadows of the modern world.
Jaycen, for now, just walked. Waiting for his time to shine.