NSWRPF Archive The Boise Freedom Force: A Not So Super Hero Team

IC: Luke, The Freedom Fan
East Wing

---

The combination of gunfire and a particularly loud explosion finally proved too much for Luke, and he flew off the handle far worse than he ever had before. "Hey! Shut up! I'm trying to read here!" He was mildly embarrassed by his use of such extreme profanity, but honestly, how was he supposed to absorb information with all the...

Luke's eyes widened slightly as he noticed that both the Ace of Spades and the Diamond Pixie were getting shot at. And consequently [i]he[/i] was getting shot at!

A burst of automatic fire trailed in from his right side, and Luke, acting instinctively, leapt to the left in an attempt to avoid it.

Which sent him careening into the very fossils he had been admiring only moments before. The resulting combination of crashes and rattles was impressively melodic, if a bit noisy. He shook his head, wiping some dust off his shoulders as he got back to his feet. "Gee, I hope that was a replica..." he moaned. He glanced down the hallway. Bad guys. About a half dozen, to be more precise.

Thinking quickly, Luke grabbed ahold of a particularly large [i]replica[/i] fossil (He had decided it was a replica, factual accuracy notwithstanding) and threw it at the nearest one at high speed. "Crime doesn't pay!" he chided.

[b]TAG:[/b] East Wing

 

IC: Juli, The Diamond Pixie
East Wing

She looked around as much as she could while dodge and sipping around her baddie. Then quickly flew off to the far side of the hall heading slightly back to were her teammates were coming from dodging bullets as she went. Seeing an oppertunity on one she adjusted her path, trying to make it around the back of a pillar to surprise someone with an semi-automatic.

Landing on the pillar and crawling around, so that her wings wouldn't alert the perp to her approach. Stealth was her code in this reign of chaos, shecame up right next to his head and plunged her currently diamond sword into his neck. As his body fell to the floor, paralyzed, and then felt like something was off. Looking up she saw a large bone flying at the goon at the next support ahead of her.

Climbing around the pillar a little to get a better view she missed whether or not it hit the man, as she a bullets started hitting the cullom and machines around her. Then one hit her flying luckly at an angle so it bounced off, but as she flew from the impact into a display screen and then to the ground her phase returned to normal.

Getting up she realized she was normal again, in size and form. Size was what she had wanted somewhat but form? She needed to be something to protect her from all these bullets, speak of the devil. She quickly dove behind a pillar as bullets quickly chased her.

Panting she gripped the handle tightly, focusing on changing while holding her anger at herself, her stupidety in her attacks, her uncontrolled entry, and not to mention at these people for what they were doing. Coming around the pillar slowly as her body changed into a living form of titanium she walked forward. Feeling the bullets ding and bounce off her hardened form, sending small ripples accross her less lean areas. Slashing at a machine as she passed on her way back to the villian she had been fighting she slowly closed in. Then heard a few clicks which caused her to turn her head just in time to see a bad guy raise a rocket launcher or bazooka depending on ones vernacular.

Swallowing slightly she jumped flying full kilter away from the individual as he fired, doing a few dodges it hit a collum next to her. The resulting explosion sent her carreening away to bounce off machinery till she slid to a stop at someones feet, she was sure who but if her spacial accuity hadn't been messed up by the blast it should be a friend and not a foe. Which was good because she didn't think she could much for a moment until the ringing stopped.

TAG: East Wing, Either

 

IC: Spades
BDI -- East Wing

Spades jumped up to put a shot into his attacker, instead finding a small red monkey like person in his line of sight. The kid.

"Clear the road Red!" He shouted, ducking behind his cover again as a few more shots come his way. He waited a moment, then stood again, seeing the fairy-girl doing her power thing. He fired off a few more rounds, and his Target ducked behind cover. It was about the time he was ready to rush the man when an explosion rocked the room, sending little-miss-moonlight slidding to his feet. He groaned, these amateurs were making it hard for him to do his thing. He grabbed her by the back of his uniform, and pulled her behind his cover.

"Wait here Darlin', let the real hero do some work."

He didn't wait for a response before he stood and rushed toward his attackers, always jumping, juking and diving one step ahead of their bullets. Thank the powers that be for enhanced reflexes and danger sense. He ran full bore, displays around him being blasted apart by bullets, the ones that weren't getting knocked over by his haphazzard route. He still didn't seem to be making headway however, just causing more damage. Time seemed to stop for a moment, as a vision of him getting blasted by a rocket flashed in his mind. He hit the brakes, his slick bottomed boots slipping a bit more than he would have liked as he threw himself on his back and rolled for more cover just as an explosion rocked the place he should have been. Shrapnel and chunks of cement pounded his left side, sending him into agonizing pain. For every gift is a curse, and his was low pain tolerance. He could do little more than crawl behind something, blinded by pain, the feeling ov blood trickling down his arm sending chills up his spine.

"Sonofa....." He moaned, getting his bearings in the room. "Ok Pixie, you're turn again!" He shouted over the din, hoping she heard.

Tag: Pixie, any

 

OOC: I am taking over American Eagle until Friday, because Matt is out of town. I guess it's lucky I picked the lobby.


IC: Technomancer y American Eagle


The gunner wasn't even paying attention to Reed as he tiptoed up the stairs, left arm hanging limply by his side. It was American Eagle the baddie was shooting at, but Baldie was doing an okay job of dancing around the gunfire on the main floor.

Just as Technomancer was ready to pounce, an explosion in the west caused his target to lose his footing, and he went down. Reed's leap went straight over his head, over the balcony, and directly into American Eagle, who had also lost his feet in the explosion, and had been getting back up, only to be leveled once more by the incoming Technomancer.

"Independence!" Eagle declared as they thudded to the ground. some people just don't know how to curse thought Reed, who regarded himself a particularly gifted profaner. Some people just didn't have it.

"You moron, I nearly had him!" Reed yelled, upset that American Eagle would sabotage his attack like that. "I thought we were a team!"

Eagle looked at him sideways, but didn't have time to rebut, as the thug was finding his legs. "There's no time for this" he said, looking around for something to throw. "We can't get up the stairs now, he has company". He said this as two more of ski mask's buddies showed up on the upper level.

"We need cover" said Reed. "Into the gift shop!" They made a dash across the floor, and smashed through the glass of the science store's windows. "We don't have much time, they'll be on us at any second".

They waited for a second. No one came. Then there was a clink on the floor, followed by another. Two small green pineapples rolled past the duo. They looked at each other.

"Oh..." they said in unison.

Eagle was out in front with his superior speed, but was caught in the arm by a spurt of gunfire, and hit the floor to avoid more. Reed managed to make it to the glass, when the explosion picked him up and carried him past two of their assailants.

Eagle had recovered himself, and was engaging the two. His speed was impressive, but he kept yelling various president's names for no apparent reason.

Reed had skidded to a halt next to a strange looking device. It was labeled as a high powered, light weight magnetic field generator. It had apparently never been put to use, as there wasn't much the military could do with it, and it had lost it's funding. But it was there, on loan for a special exhibit about magnets, and more boring things on the plaque that some seventh grader would have to write a report on at some point. Reed didn't care much. "Hey there, good looking" he said, with a slightly mischievous grin forming on his face.



Tag lobby

 

OOC: You're technically in charge until whenever I get my computer back. I'll just fill things in from time to time, I guess...

IC: American Eagle

There were too many explosions for the confined space. Better to get away from Technomancer and avoid getting the both of them killed. Making use of his augmented speed, Eagle burst ahead, barreling towards the baddies with all the force of the Pacific Railroad. One was waylaid with a left hook and a cry of, "Might of Teddy Roosevelt!" Another was disabled with a kick to the face and a quip about treading on people. It was the Technomancer's absurd attraction to a magnetic green box that finally got Eagle's attention. As he held a henchman aloft and was about to introduce him to a little move Eagle called the "Ulysses S. Faceplant," he turned quizically in the team leader's direction.

"Got an idea?"

TAG: Technomancer

 

IC: Juli, The Diamond Pixie
East Wing

Having been pulled to safety she lied there for a moment letting the ringing in her head, possibly caused by her own metal body to cease before she shakily got to her feet.

Trying to lean on the pillar she noticed a pang in one of her wings, looking behind her as best she could she still couldn't get a good view. Using her tail she traced the aching wing until she found the problem, it was bent! Down side of being made of metal: when it forcefully bends into a new shape, it normally doesn't pop back like flesh or rubber. No way she could fly in this condition, maybe she should just let the guy do it himself.

Then she barely made out a cry above the din of the room and her own head, "Ok Pixie, you're turn again!"

Perfect, no way she could get all that way and not get hit by another of those darn rocket blasts...unless. It just might work! Running across the area dodging behind machines and displays she ran full force at Freedom Fan, As she came up to him she spoke quickly, "Grab me however you need and hurl me like a dart at the closest badguy near Spades!"

As she came within his arm range she put both hands over her head hold her sword, her tail ready to go straight behind her, and her two good wings out to the side. She should hopefully be able to make minor corrections in flight, and being hurled might just make her too fast of a moving target for the rocket launcher to track, not to mention the bullets.

TAG: Freedom Fan, East Wing

 

IC: Blood Shadow, DCI West Wing.

*Charging through the galleries and past exhibits and models for the kids to learn by, he got a hint of the grandstanding statements. As he rounded a corner, he heard the bursts of fire and swore under his breath. Despite his misgivings and his denigration of his so-called "teammates", a small part of him somewhere felt that loyalty and duty to back up and defend whomever he was working with.

Blood Shadow entered the ancient civilizations exhibit in time to watch Ghost Emperor fall to the floor, apparently killed in a hailstorm of flying lead.
Had this occoured as little as 3 months ago, Shadow wouldn't have taken the action that he did. He would have researched and analyzed his teammates powers and abilities, weighing their strengths and weaknesses against his own and determining how best to mesh the two.

However, he did not hold the rest of the group in that regard, and as such had only observed Ghosts powers to be an overblown sense of self-importance and an ability to do anything at his own leisure, hallmarks of your typical ancient immortal, although in Ghosts case it was amplified to a barely tolerable degree.

Shadow was now bent on taking the two remaining criminals down before they could do any more damage, kill any more people.

The furthest he got was two running paces and a partial uttering of a command.

"Drop the toys you sonoh SH!..."

*he had to backpedal and dive behind a wall in a hurry when one of the thugs chucked a grenade at him. However, it was no ordinary grenade. Shadow had gone up against these kinds of weapons before, and knew full well that these were some new form of energy burst grenade, something he had precisely zero natrual protection from.

Despite a slight singing on the back of his neck, the most he felt was a stab of increased heat before he ducked behind the wall. While contemplating his next move, he heard the thugs walk over to Ghost, heard his declaration, and after the exchange quickly surmised that his character flaws did in fact point to his suspicion, that he was an immortal of some kind.

He grinned, thinking that he would bust out some ancient lost martial arts that would incapacitate them with a pinky finger, and listened for the blows when Ghost said...

"Checkmate"

*However after the curious little click, his reality around him exploded in flying debris. Gouts of angry orange flame accompanied falling chunks of ceiling and flying debris. Being hammered by a few large chunks of masonry, his head swam with the impacts, and some of the flames burned into his outfit slightly.

Finding the presence of mind to act, at the last second he generated the equivelent force of a brick of C4s explosive power behind a leap and blew his way out of the rubble.
Landing on his feet on a slab of what used to be a floor that allowed children to dig for fossils, he took in the surroundings in the aftermath.

Aside from Ghost, who was picking himself up and dusting himself off like this would not affect everyone around them, he also saw quite a few people injured from flying debris of some kind, some even on the ground and not yet attended by the already overworked paramedics firefighters and police on scene, and even an ambulance that looked like it had been peppered with high-velocity masonry and concrete (even though he never really was religious, he silently prayed that nobody was in the ambulance that was peppered by debris)

Shadow balled his fists up, clenched his teeth, then stomped over to Ghost. He first bodily shoved him, then pointed a finger an inch away from his helmet then half growled half rasped.

"You may be a dime-a-dozen immortal, but none of them are. Think about that next time you claim the title of "hero", you never-was."

*Instead of running back into the DCI, SHadow did two things. First, he slapped a beacon on his belt that summoned his motorcycle via high frequency

 

IC: Technomancer


Reed had an idea all right, but it wasn't one he was very fond of.

He hated assimilating. Sharing himself with a machine was extremely uncomfortable, and kind of dangerous. Losing himself to the machine was always a possibility.

Reluctantly, he extended his right arm. The fingers of his right hand slowly extended towards the smallish green cube, engulfing it and sinking into it like roots. The cube moved up into his arm, becoming a part of it, the sinewy, metallic muscle of his upper arm wrapping around it.

Immediately he could feel it. It was like any other muscle he had had his entire life. Using it was as easy as clenching his fist. He flexed it a little, and felt the buckle of his pants pull in towards him.

He also heard the voice that wasn't his. It wasn't like hearing the machines as he normally did. He had trouble discerning whether it was his own thought or the machine's. He had to focus on who he was. Had to keep himself together, it would be over soon enough. This voice wasn't very bright; experimental machinery wasn't usually. It was upset, and tried to wrestle control from him, but he held on. focus he thought to himself. The less advanced machines were the easiest to assimilate, and this machine had only one purpose. He used it.

Opening the newly found muscle completely, Reed let his new ability go to work. The magnetic pull was strong, and suddenly every ferrous thing in the room found itself irresistibly attracted to him. The equipment laden thug on the second floor didn't have a chance to react, it was too sudden. The force of the magnet ripped the gun from his hand, and shortly thereafter every piece of equipment that was still attached to him. It took him with it, flying over the railing, until finally tearing itself off of him in mid-air. Disoriented, the baddie somersaulted towards the ground, landing on his neck with a horrible crunching sound.

The two thugs across the room had been luckier, as their equipment freed itself before they were dragged to the growing orb of metal that surrounded Technomancer.

The magnet screamed in his head, trying to escape(perhaps he should have sweet talked it first). Reed couldn't take it any longer, he had to get rid of it. He released the machine from his control, and it popped out of his arm like a zit, leaving a small crater that his body moved to restore. He dug his way out of the sphere, and collapsed to the ground, mentally exhausted.


Tag: Lobby

 

IC: Luke, The Freedom Fan
East Wing

---

Luke had managed to avoid the gunfire, somehow. Granted, he had crashed into a display or two in the process, but the important thing was that 1. They were replicas and 2. He was still alive. He had just gotten up from his latest bout of collateral damage when he heard a voice directed at him. It was the Diamond Pixie

[i]"Grab me however you need and hurl me like a dart at the closest badguy near Spades!"[/i]

"Gotcha!" he replied, grabbing her by the waist and hurtling her towards a thug that was dangerously close to the Ace of Spades. "Special delivery!"

He followed by darting towards another badguy in a zig-zag fashion, narrowly avoiding gunfire, before punching the man squarely in the jaw. There was a cracking noise as some teeth flew out of the man's mouth, but he was going to be okay. Probably.

[b]TAG:[/b] East Wing

 

IC: Juli, The Diamond Pixie
East Wing

As Freedom Fan lifted her up by her waist, she straightened out her body preparing for the first powered flight. As she quickly flew at the goon closing in on Spades, she arrived just as he was coming around the corner.

Using the sword to slice at the goons back, only caused him to fall to the floor with a gash into the goons armor. But having grabbed onto the back of the goons shirt her forward momentum sent them careening down the way, with her using the goon like a surfboard.

Bullet fire and the occasional rocket blast chassed after her, causing more and more collateral damage and fires that were going unchecked as some blasts broke through the sidewall making the loud explosions visible to those outside.

As her speed slowed she jumped off and back grabbing onto the ceiling, also the bottom of the second floor, she began crawling back as quickly as she could. About halfway back another rocket was launched screaming toward her.

Jumping off the ceiling and opening her wings she caught the shock wave of the close blast, sending her flying up and over once again. As she tried to gain control and direction, she forgot about her bent wing, which caused the air to flip her around until she was a spinning shrinking javelin falling from the sky of the room. She shrank in fear and nausea, as her best attempts couldn't halt her erratic spin. Pulling her wings in she dropped faster, going right through several displays before stopping with her head sticking out the far side of a machine.

She was still trapped with her hands pinned at her hips and only from her waist up out of the machine. Whether from the spinning, the multiple head on plough throughs, or just exhaustion she found herself unable to extricate herself. Barely holding on to consciousness in her eight inch tall reduced state, with only four inches sticking out into the open air.

TAG: East Wing

 

Narrator


There it was. Surprisingly, the device was undamaged...practically. Harry, the leader of the strike force from the most evil and secretive mercenary group in the world that was hired to extract the device, looked it over. What did he know? Not enough to tell if it was working.

Oh well, no time for that. His team was being picked apart. There was an unnatural amount of collateral damage, but he wasn't worried about it. Why should he be? He was evil, after all. Well, he was trying to be. He was finding it hard to be menacing, and so had been passed over twice for promotion. Maybe he wasn't cut out for this kind of thing.

Something exploded behind him. The time for life decisions would come later. He unclipped a grenade from his belt, and threw it down the hall. Heroes never did protect their eyes.

A blinding flash lit up the museum like the sun. The police outside had to shield their eyes. It burned for several minutes, and when it dissipated, all signs of the mercenaries were gone.


All signs, that is, except for the smoldering heap that used to be a museum.


The team stood around awkwardly. The police and several news crews stood frozen outside of the museum, mouths hanging open.

"Ah...heh" said Technomancer. "Mission accomplished?"

The boarded the helicopter and flew back to headquarters in silence, turned around when they realized Ghost Emperor was still underneath a slab of marble, brushed him off, and flew back again, thoroughly embarrassed.

---

All right. "Mission 1" is over. Go ahead and post your reactions back at headquarters. You'll probably be hearing from the city in a little while.

 

IC: Luke, The Freedom Fan
Boise FF HQ

---

Luke sat on his bed with a sullen expression strewn across his red features. All those museum exhibits, up in flames despite all their efforts. And they hadn't even caught the bad guys!

He punched the wall near his bed in frustration, accidentally breaking a large new window into it. He grumbled an angry "Gee whiz..." as he shook the mixture of building materials from his fist. He would have to reign in his temper. A good "Emissary of Unholy Reckoning" probably didn't lose his cool over just one museum. Still...

Still!

They had been so [i]close[/i]! There were only a few criminals left when the one had pulled out a flash grenade and sent the whole place up in flames. Really hot, smoldering flames. Kind of like Dad's house, actually. Nonetheless they hadn't played [i]fair[/i]. And Luke though cheaters were really uncool, more so maybe than even criminals.

He stood up suddenly, a newfound determination in his eyes. He had to get stronger, strong enough to stop any bad guys that came his way. And then, maybe, he [i]too[/i] could be a superhero like the others. A force for truth, justice, and the "unholy" [Luke, not being a very religious person, didn't know the difference between holy and unholy and anything to save his life] way.

His stomach growled. But first, maybe some hearty oatmeal. "I love oatmeal..." he thought aloud as he strolled to the door.

[b]TAG:[/b] Any

 

IC: Blood Shadow, approaching Idaho/Oregon border

*While the rest of the Freedom Force had rumbled on inside the DCI, more people were injured on the exterior. This quickly overtaxed the EMS and firefighters on the outside, stretching their resources and manpower to its limits.

In this entire fracas, Blood Shadow was darting from patient to patient, doing what he could to treat the wounded. When his motorcycle arrived, he breathed a sigh of relief, then wheeled it over to the general area where the chopper was stationed. Taking even more medical gear off of the motorcycle, he dashed back into the fray, tending to those who were in pain and suffering and needed help more than any other.

However, he would not go unmolested. The media followed him around as he patched cuts up, kept hearts from stopping, immobilized broken bones. He largely ignored them, but as he was injecting a police officer with painkillers due to her lacerated abdomen, one question finally spurred a rather curt response from him.

"Why are you out here when the rest of the Freedom Force is in the Discovery Center?"

*Shadow wheeled over and nearly grabbed the mouse-like reporter by her jacket, but instead placed his face an inch from hers and barked a response, gesturing violently at the rapidly deteriorating DCI as he spoke*

"Because these people don't have superpowers! They do! Now get the hell away from me before I get one of these officers to arrest you for obstructing a rescue operation!"

*For once, the media had gotten the hint and backed away. Even as the DCI flashed into oblivion, the flow of wounded surely abated to the point where the normal first responders could handle the situation. Shadow left it to them, thanking the Paramedics, Police Officers, Firefighters, and other first responders as he was thanked for his efforts.
He was always impressed by their sacrifice and their efforts, long ago determining that if he was not given his abilities, he would want to be one of their own. They were "merely human", yet they showed more bravery and courage and heroism than any of the frauds that were now loaded into the ramshackle old helicopter.

Ignoring the shouts to board the helicopter, he instead mounted his motorcycle and gunned the throttle. The howl of the triple rotors was heard even over the beating of the helicopter blades. With a one-fingered salute straight at Technomancer, he dumped the built up power into 1st gear. With a small rooster-tail of dirt, the front wheel lifted, making a nice wheelie before it came back down. The motorcycle became a streak of red in the night, hurtling towards BFF headquarters.

When he arrived, he slid to a stop and parked the bike just outside and to the right of the launchpad entryway. Walking briskly to the room that he occupied alone (part of his condition for accepting a post there was that not bunk with another person), he quickly changed out of his torn and burnt outfit, dropping it into a capsule-shaped case that was about the size of a gym bag. It would be sent to an old friend that would repair it and send it back.

Changing into a spare costume, he grimaced as he heard the helicopter land. Grabbing a helmet that looked like a hybrid of a motocross and full face motorcycle helmet, along with some cues from a fighter pilots helmet, he walked past the rec room. As he passed by the kitchen, he noticed The Freedom Fan apparently fixing himself some Oatmeal. Despite his mask having reflective lenses, he manged to glower at the little freak as he spoke*

"Don't go in my room again, ever, okay you little red monkey? I know that was you rummaging through my stuff. Next time ill rig it to bite your fingers off, comprende'?"

*With that, he got on his motorcycle, gunned it once again, and hurtled off into the night.

The motorcycle itself was a marvel of technology. It had started off as a s

 

IC: Juli, The Diamond Pixie-BFF HQ

?Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be the size of a doll or action figure? Don?t worry or ever wish it upon yourself or your friends. It isn?t as fun as you might at first think, sure there are special wardrobes that seem to only be mass produced for dolls and can be fun at first. Downsides are similar to the pluses, doll fabric isn?t always very nice or soft, ones room is the size of a stadium ? good luck getting to the other side let alone to the kitchen for lunch in three hours, and you can fit places others might not be able to reach ? or to help if you get stuck.

Overall a tilted scale that quickly falls to the goodness of being large, at least to my mind still. For some reason, whether still being emotionally charged or unable to focus properly yet I haven?t reverted to normal size. I am flesh and blood again, but I am still only four inches tall. Will resume recording after playback and hopefully return to normal size.? Tapping the comm/recorder off she walked out of her hanging doll house, it was only a three roomed affair hanging from a hook near the door to her room. Standing on the small porch she felt her wing again, it was still bent slightly but was slowly straightening and healing well enough. Considering what happened to the museum she guessed she was lucky by comparison, but she still felt bad about having participated in such mayhem and destruction.

Jumping from her perch to the wall she began crawling along as best she could through the BFF headquarters to the kitchen where she found Luke/Freedom Fan making oatmeal. Not to mention the rude accusation by that bone-headed, ?Im a Real Super!? Blood Shadow. He had a crater on his shoulder not even his ego could fill by her estimation, at least she couldn't tell any other reason for his personality.

She quickly started crawling over to see if the lad might need comforted when she lost her grip crawling across a cupboard where some oil, grease, or something wet and slick had splattered on. She fell unable to stop herself into an awaiting bowl. Just lying there for a moment she shook her head. This seemed to be how her first real day on the job was destined to go, attempt to help, get self into trouble, and bring more damage then fixes to a situation. Well at least she had only managed two out of the three so far after the museum. The thought alone brought another pang to her gut, whether of dread or sadness she couldn't quite distinguish.

TAG: FreedomFan, Any at BFF Headquarters-kitchen

 

OOC:

Sorry for the slow down, folks, it's mid terms, and I have a ton of homework I should be doing. IT shouldn't be too much longer until we have another crisis.

Until then building character relationship should be useful.

 

IC: Blood Shadow, back at BFF Headquarters

*While Fossy had recognized the patch and given him the description of the splinter group that was once part of the CIA itself, the fact that they were raiding a kids museum yielded nothing. Despite Blood Shadow's desire to stay, and after chatting up a particularly inviting redhead that apparently was an empath
(not that he was a media hound, but he had been slightly tickled when a women-oriented magazine doing a special on superheros had declared him "roguishly handsome" and "posessing enough bad-boy to be that much hotter, but not so much that your mom will disown you.")
he had to get back to Boise. Doubtless there would be a few calls after that fracas, he determined that he might be able to save his own skin if he were there to plead his case. Sure he had done a bit of damage, but he wasn't the one who had blown up the west wing, or let them get away. Heck, he had been on the outside tending to the wounded.

While Adrian was over an hour away at normal speeds, the time was shaved down considerably when traveling the same roads at speeds that regularly were measured in triple digits.
Soon enough he was in Boise. Unimpressive, boring, mind-bogglingly dull Boise.
Parking the motorcycle well away from the van and the helicopter on the concrete slab that was the launch pad, he stalked back into the headquarters, ignoring any other person present.

When he got to his own room, he shut the door behind him, unclasping and unbuttoning his jacket. Stowing the helmet in its place in the closet, he looked around, realizing that once again, somebody had been going through his belongings. This time they had gone too far, they rummaged through the drawer in the table by his bed, where he kept some personal things, as well as his spare costumes and equipment.

Punching the wall, he unconsciously had drawn up a bit of force in the blow, and it backlashed once again, blowing him into the hall after the door turned into splinters and sawdust.

Brushing himself off, he stormed into the kitchen, which had become the unnoficial gathering area for the group. Unclipping one of his combi-sticks, he hurled it in a disc-like fashion, whirling it through and shattering a myriad of plates and glasses, sending shards of glass and ceramic, chunks of food, and sprays of liquid in all directions.
Extending his hand out, he caught the stick that had bounced off of a pillar then a fixture. It was then that he spoke, not yelling, speaking at a normal voice.
However, his voice carried just enough menace to warrant full attention, like the silence before a rhino charges*

"Whomever decided to go through my personal belongings had better step forward right now, otherwise I will personally make life here a hell for all of you until I get an answer. If you are truly team players, consider that before clamming up."

Tag: All

 

IC: The Freedom Fan
FFHQ

---

Luke was humming away pleasantly as he transferred his oatmeal from the pot to his bowl and then proceeded to pour himself a glass of orange juice. The tune was something along the lines of La Cucaracha and [i]Hazy Shade of Winter[/i], which made for an odd combination that somehow added up to breakfast music in Luke's mind.

Blood Shadow seemed particularly upset about something, apparently related to his stuff. Luke seemed to remember the superhero making a comment about being a red monkey or some, but in all honesty had been preoccupied with his oatmeal and wasn't terribly sure.

"Honestly, Blood Shadow, sir, I doubt any of us actually went through your stuff. Maybe it was bad guys!" His voice perked up a bit more excitedly than it should have at that last part. But that was Luke: incredibly eager in all pursuits related to catching the criminals.

[b]TAG:[/b] Blood Shadow, any

 

IC: Juli, The Diamond Pixie
-BFF HQ Kitchen

When she saw a pot start moving over the lip of the bowl she barely let out an "Eep!" as her body reflexively absorbed and changed to match the bowl she was in. Making her blend in as well as be safer in a way.

As the stove-top hot oatmeal poured on her she was glad she wasn't flesh-and-blood at the moment because it would have been painful being burried under all of this. Instead she just felt the warmth spread through her body as it also spread through the bowl, and she began to swim or dig depending on how one looke at it out of the oatmeal. Finally breaching the top she inhaled sharply, taking in a much needed breath of air.

Looking around she began wading to the edge of the bowl where hoped she could crawl out from, but if she saw any spoons or open mouths her dignity of being able to get herself out of 'sticky' situations would go out the window.

TAG: Kitchen Group(Luke, Blood Shadow)