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Earth's Greatest Heroes

Earth

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a part of Earth's Greatest Heroes, by Zap.

Welcome to Planet Earth.

Zap holds sovereignty over Earth, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

860 readers have been here.

Setting

Earth is the third planet from the Sun, the densest planet in the Solar System, the largest of the Solar System's four terrestrial planets, and the only astronomical object known to accommodate life. Earth is currently home to 10–14 million species of life, including over 7.3 billion humans who depend upon its biosphere and minerals. Earth's human population is divided among about two hundred sovereign states which interact through diplomacy, conflict, travel, trade and communication media.
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Earth

Welcome to Planet Earth.

Minimap

Earth is a part of Earth's Greatest Heroes.

6 Places in Earth:

4 Characters Here

Paper Angel [2] "I will atone for what I haven't done. If that means changing the world, I will."
Kiki Eren [1] "Are you coming home soon, Mommy?"
Wonderland [1] "Mad as a hatter, pissed as the Queen of Hearts."
ZED [0] "In the end, the only thing living on this world, will be me."

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Setting

15 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Paper Angel Character Portrait: Veil Character Portrait: MultiDude Character Portrait: Rawhide Character Portrait: Black Midas Character Portrait: Sorceress Character Portrait: Mach Character Portrait: Norman Dixon Character Portrait: Agent 16 Character Portrait: Josiah Armstrong Character Portrait: Wonderland Character Portrait: Babylon

...and 3 others.

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#, as written by Zap
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Shadow Isle Federal Penitentiary. Built upon an island off the coast of New York City, it had been created to house the extremely dangerous criminals, insane lunatics and genetically-enhanced mutants that had been unlucky enough to be captured by their Government. This prison was created as an answer to the US’ criminal problems, and was highly regarded as the safest and highly-protected prison in the entire world.

But nothing is safe for ever.

In the dead of the night Police helicopters and speedboats rapidly approached the Shadow Isle, cloaked in midnight darkness. The helicopter searchlights led the way towards the Penitentiary, where smoke rose into the sky from multiple places. The Police were closely flanked by multiple media helicopters owned by different news stations, who were eager to get their hands on a nice, juicy story to fill the ears of their beloved audience with..

But the Police Boats and Helicopters were only carrying the reinforcements, as already on the beach and landing pads were multiple S.W.AT. Teams and American Special Forces units, who were talking to their superiors and team leaders through different radio channels, barking orders at one another and trying to organize a plan while the whole Island went to hell.

The entire Island had erupted into uncontrollable chaos. Fire raged from every window, screams, shouts and laughter burst from every open orifice and multiple explosions had been set off throughout the night. Prisoners had escaped through breaches in the walls and attacked the police officers down on at the beach, causing more injuries to the attacking force. From what the media helicopters can gather from their position, a fair number of inmates, police officers and prison guards had already been killed by multiple things, but all of them killed maliciously and with a clear, cold-blooded intent.

The media helicopters, not wanting to give up despite the obvious danger below them, circled around the Island once more, showing better, more convincing angles with their cameras for the viewers watching at home, who were watching with anxiety and bated breath. This horrific event had caught the eye of the whole nation, and no-one knew what they could do to help. The cameras also show the extensive damage caused by the prisoners and, perhaps, the men or man that had broken into the prison. There are multiple broken walls and windows on the ground floor, as well as more on each floor, as well as lots of fallen debris and wiring coming out of gaping holes.

The whole of Shadow Isle is wrecked, dangerous and too risky to survey.

Back in the air, one media helicopter, hoping for a brilliant picture for their viewers at home, dropped its altitude and hovered too far down into one of the courtyards of the prison, and soon caught the eye of the inmates. The helicopter was then assaulted with bricks, bottles and broken glass, whatever the criminals can get their hands on basically, in an attempt to bring down the helicopter and cause more chaos. The pilot of the vehicle struggled to maintain control of his bird, and the helicopter began to lose altitude and crash towards the ground. The camera team, some of whom had already been seriously injured by the debris thrown at them, threw themselves from the vehicle as crashed down into the shallow water near the beach, most of the being killed from the impact, their bodies strewn around the wreckage in a horrific manner.

Police scrambled to the scene, hoping to rescue the men from the wreckage and the news reporter that was in there as well, but were unable to do so once the wreckage caught fire, leaving the squad of officers to back away as it erupted into flames. The other media helicopters, seeing this disastrous event, began to pull out from the scene, and began to simply commentate on what was happening from a safe distance.

On a particular helicopter that was heading to the one of the prison’s few free landing pads was Commissioner Alan Norman, the Chief of Police at the NYPD. The man was desperately communicating with various S.W.A.T. and Special Forces team leaders to try and maintain a calm situation and transmit orders to them, although some of his orders seemed to be lost in translation and forgotten over the loud explosions and shouting.

A perimeter was already set up around the prison on multiple floors, with S.W.A.T. teams ready to breach the doors and enter the buildings in an attempt to save injured inmates and contain the uncontrollable and mutated ones. Norman stepped off the helicopter in a rush, his trench-coat blowing in the breeze and the wind caused by the helicopter’s rotor blades, and looked around the scene. The reinforcement helicopters he had brought with him were now in position, and with his word, began to rappel more Special Forces teams into the prison, whilst S.W.A.T. burst through the doors and began to clear the buildings room by room.

This was a defining moment in America’s history for years to come, the moment where the world first saw those that would become…
The Atlas Society.

Setting

8 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Paper Angel Character Portrait: Veil Character Portrait: MultiDude Character Portrait: Rawhide Character Portrait: Mach Character Portrait: Norman Dixon Character Portrait: Agent 16 Character Portrait: Josiah Armstrong
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Before anything was going wrong at the penitentiary, Veil had worked her magic once again and was having a nice texting conversation with an inmate known as "O". He was an old man with a jolly spirit. His power was something that made him dangerous but also allowed him to save lives. Sadly though he had a history prior to gaining his powers. He was the Right Hand in one of the largest Biker gangs in America. He had retired before the abilities manifested but due to his excitement as well as inexperience with the ability led him accidentally yet severely injure a group of men that were trying to make a name for themselves. Sadly two of them died and when it was discovered that he had an ability as well as prior convictions they didn't ask any questions and sent him to the prison.

He had little to work due to his prestigious position, his bear like size and strength, as well as his ability. Prisoners and Guards gave showed him respect and those that didn't wound up in the prison hospital on the verge of death, but due to his new found control none have yet to die.

Veil had broken into the Prison's mainframe and started to make it yet another home for her codes. She had always been fascinated by others like her. Her power was almost a personification of her life. She hacked further and deeper until she had access to all the security cameras and prison doors She could easily let them or make sure they stayed in forever, but before she decided to do such a thing she began reading up on every prisoner tht was being held ,as well digging into all their pasts, at the same time. She started making a check list of those she found interesting and those she didn't. She didn't like those tht hurt people for fun and it was during this search that she found "O". A 54 year old man. Divorced twice with five kids total ranging from 21 -30. None apparently showed signs of abilities. His ability was that of manipulating Air itself.

It was minutes before everything went to hell. O was telling Veil about his amateur surfing career when one of Veil's Security AIs notified her that there was an anomaly and a few cameras had been tampered with.

"O, " Veil interrupted. "Is there anything going on there, I being told that cameras are starting to go down in certain areas. Is there anything that's off?"

"Well now that you mention it. The guard shifts are a little awkward tonight. They seem to be running behind schedule or something."

"O, I have to look things up real quick." Veil stated as her AI's sent shortcuts to the camera feeds of where past schedules had changed. Her AI's did good work. She was rather pleased with her creations she usually typed for aesthetic reasons but since he ws in a hurry she simply focused on the three custom made laptops in front of her and entered her commands mentally and all three were running at top speeds where even some of the best hackers would have trouble following. "O you need to get o-," she started to explain, just as the explosion occurred. She was surprised but not initially worried about O's safety because her brain told her he was not near the explosion and the fact that the phone was still on, meant he was alright. There was a sound coming from the other side of the phone.

She wasted no time and started sending "Helps" out to certain "heroes" that she had found in her daily searches that have been going on for years. [Rawhide, Paper Angel, Mach (who was almost there), MultiDude, Norman Dixon, Josiah Armstrong]

Hopefull this would give them a head start.

"Looks like I have early parole," he said with chuckle as the locking mechanism slide back as O continued to increase the air pressure while keeping it small and when the time was right he released it with a small explosion while he hid behind a concentrated wall of air that deflect incoming debris away from him.

"Where to, Miss Veil" O asked. Veil was not only keeping an eye on O but most of the prison populace. There was more going on inside the prison and Veil noticed one of guards were helping prisoners out.

'Thank gawd,' she thought to herself. She was searching the court yard seeing many fleeing. It was then that figure was found killing prisoners with little remorse and excess efficiency.

"O there is somebody dangerous out in the courtyard. He is killing every prisoner that comes close to him. I think you should avoid him. He is heavily armed and very skilled. Turn left and i'll guide you through a back way."

O turned right and went down the stair as he headed towards the courtyard. "Sorry, Miss Veil, but I can't runaway when people are dying. I have seen too much and cared too little in my past. Don't worry though. Big O is no pushover. I've dealt with all sorts of people. You'd be surprised by the number of martial artists and military punks i've laid out in my youth."

Veil continued to follow his route and after 3 minutes of failing to convince him she helped him by telling about blocked passages.

O stopped in the courtyard seeing the figure of man standing in the center of corpses. "Bye Miss Veil. I will do what i can, but please know that you were a blessing for this old man in these last few weeks. Even though i never understood that computer mumbo jumbo you talked about often." And before Veil could protest again O hung up the phone, dropped it and stepped on it.

Veil watched as O approached the man. O was easily a foot taller than the man. While watching Veil started to try to get as much information on the unknown man as possible while she and her AI's tried to assist as many people way from that killer as possible.

"Hey there, kiddo," O said now within 5 meters from the man standing before him. "Let's make this quick. I have a phone call to get back to." And with that he removed most of the air in the area making it harder for a normal person to breathe as if they were in the thin air Himalayas. He took his old boxing stance and started to weave slightly as he inched closer to the man and he continued to build up air around his fist and prepared to release another explosion against the man's chest.

With a practiced distance met, O dashed in with his fist flying for the man's chest.

'May it end with this.' he thought

Setting

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Veil Character Portrait: Agent 16
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#, as written by Zap
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Blood. Chaos. Fire.

All of these things he enjoyed, all of these things were necessary evils. He had to make sure these things were happening to make sure his task was done, and he had accomplished that stage of his goal. Flames, bright orange flames engulfed the entire prison, and bodies littered the ground where feeble men had tried to stop him. These men, these animals, had tried to stop him from ending something that they started, but like so many others, they lay limp at his feet, bleeding from wherever he deemed they should bleed.

No one got in the way of Agent 16, and Agent 16 made sure that was the way it was.

He had been tasked by his Government, the brilliant American Government, to make sure that the scum of the Earth had been lucky enough to be enhanced with mutations, or 'superpowers', as some men in the offices seemed to call them. These mutants did not deserve the brilliant gift that they had been given, it was a special thing from the Government, and they took it for granted.

Not just those that had been affected by the airborne mutagen were his targets, but the subjects that had been released during the breakout at the lab where all the experiments that were to do with the mutagen were kept. They had been released by a fellow subject, who was empowered with superhuman speed as a side effect of the experiments. All men and women who showed superhuman skill in any way were to be eliminated, that was his mission, and it seemed to be going well so far.

Government agents within the facility had aided him, shutting off the security cameras and placing them on a five-second loop when they returned, allowing 16 to blow a hole in a specific wall, one that gave him access to a room which held all the cell controls for the inmates' holding pens. With a flick of a switch, every single inmate, empowered or no, was released into the corridors of the facility, and proceeded to wreak havoc across the Island as 16 began the first phase of his mission, the easiest part.

But that wasn't his only intent, to kill the imprisoned mutants, oh no. He had done this deed to lure out the so-called 'heroes' that the experiments and the mutagen had created, certain mutants who believed in justice and order, ones that were different than most people who gained superhuman powers. But nonetheless, he had been tasked to eliminate ALL mutants, not just the trouble-causers, and that was what he was doing.

Agent 16 watched a sadistic grin on his face as an inmate struggled to his knees, bleeding heavily from the beating that Agent 16 had delivered to his body. He grasped 16's pants as he pulled himself to his knees, only to be met with a SIG Sauer P220 semi-automic handgun being held to his forehead. Without a bat of an eye or a bated breath, Agent 16 pulled the trigger and pushed the corpse over, before looking around at the multiple bodies he had left in his trail.

He was stood in the courtyard, surrounded by men he had violently executed with his signature weapon of choice, the SIG Sauer P220 handgun. But that wasn't his only weapon that Agent 16 had on hand. In fact, he was carrying a Vz.61 Skorpion submachine gun in his right thigh holster, a COP .357 Derringer handgun in the other holster on his left thigh, a Gerber Mark II Combat Knife clipped to his belt and Colt M4A1 fully automatic carbine rifle strapped to his back. He had perfectly armed himself for any situation that he could think of, and had braced himself for it as well.

Agent 16 then turned his attention to the sound of footsteps on metal, the same-sounding metal as the metal stairs. He noticed an inmate walking down them, on the phone to someone. He watched with eagerness and scanned them for any sign of superhuman ability, and was confident that this man was empowered. He was quite easily a foot taller, but Agent 16 had been trained to fight people like him, and looked him over once again.

He was strong, sturdy and tall. He wasn't a spring chicken though, Agent 16 could tell that the moment he took his final step off of the stairs. He watched as the man hung up whoever he was calling and crushed his phone underneath his boot, which made 16 chuckle. Whoever this man was, he had balls.

He continued to watch as this man approached him, and kept a tight hold onto his handgun. He waited until the man was approximately 5 meters in front of him, and watched as the man spoke to him.
"Hey there, kiddo," the man spoke with a gruff voice. "Let's make this quick. I have a phone call to get back to."
The man had arrogance, and 16 could definitely make the man's arrogance his downfall. He obviously didn't know who he was dealing with, and 16 preferred to keep it that way. To most people, including some in his own Government, he was a ghost, he didn't exist. No records, nothing. To most people, Dexter Carroll died back in Afghanistan during a suicide bombing, but it was so much more than that.

But before 16 could reply to the man's sentence, he felt the air thin out. This man had revealed his power, he was able to control the air. This didn't phase 16 though, who simply grinned underneath his mask and pressed a button connected to it, activating his rebreather, which granted him access to a small oxygen canister hidden in his belt. It wouldn't last long though, so 16 had to make this count.

He saw the man weaving towards him like a boxer, and braced himself as he threw a punch at the Agent. He could feel the air around his fist, it added more to the impact, but this was Agent 16; there would be no impact. 16 simply bounced back and made the man miss him completely, before kicking him backwards and pulling out his Vz.61 Skorpion, throwing his handgun to the ground. He aimed at the man's chest, directly at his heart, and pulled the trigger on the gun.
"By the time I'm finished with you," Agent 16 snapped as he filled the man full of bullets. "You'll be just like your phone, broken and in little pieces, scattered across the floor.".

Setting

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mach Character Portrait: Thunder
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Blood.

He could taste it on his tongue. The eccentric red dripping of particles he so enjoyed splattered over the walls. He hanged most of the guards upside down, cracking his knuckles with ease as he sped through the halls. It was his little playground. At each turn, at each glance. He was the predator and he'd found his prey. Two guards, one with an automatic rifle and the other with a sawed off shotgun, easy.

His speed pounced against the wall, gaining and gaining as he knocked on of the men down, kicking the other in the chest and pulling the gun straight from the taller one's holster. The men screamed in terror as Thunder pulled the trigger lighting the hallway with blood and terror. He chuckled throwing the gun against the floor.

"What's a boy to do when you've got the world in your hands, or shall I call it feet?" His laughter erupted, followed by silence. He could hear, but he just couldn't see. What was it? A wisp. Wind? Air? He motioned his thoughts away, turning at straight corner.

"What th-" His voice broke off, running straight into the boy. He ran with flashes of light and blue, wearing what appeared to be something out of a junkyard and frizzled white hair. Yikes. He stood up, clenching his fists as he attempted to knock him out, throwing a quick left hook.

Who did he think he was to oppose the great Thunder? To him he was a god in the making. He had brown hair, brown eyes and light pale skin, followed by a few unnoticeable brown freckles to top it off. He was tall, atleast in his mind he thought he was. His life began off short and small, nothing too sweet to talk about on a daily basis, nothing to really boast about when you're out and about with your friends discussing how great and wonderful life truly was, to him, life was hell, and he was about to beat the poor guy into it.

Before.

Thunder sat in his cell, playing with the deck of cards his friend had given him before he found himself lumped up in these parts of the slum. The perfect little thing they were, small and fragile, like every human being he was going to rip to shreds once he finally got out, or he ever would. He fell asleep, crossing one leg over the other as he closed his eyes and kept them tight.

He awakened to the noise of a loud siren, It replayed like no tomorrow. "Wh-what? His mind pondered as he sat up, adjusting his pants for a bit. He stood up, looking back in the mirror at his formal prison clothes. A white tank top with an orange jumpsuit, finished with his favorite timberlake boots. Fresh indeed. He grinned, looking back at the door as he found it to be completely ripped apart. He pushed his hair back, stepping out as he looked around. "Freeze!! On the ground! Kneel!! He smirked with pleasure. "Oh come on boys, the parties just started."

Setting

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mach Character Portrait: Thunder
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Thunder fell back, catching himself with his speed before hitting the ground."You Little.." He twisted his leg around him, kicking him off as he tried to regain his posture. Before speaking, he checked his lips, noticing the red liquid drip to the floor, drip, drop, drip, drop. He cracked his neck, pressing his knuckles together as he smirked looking back at Mach without being a tad bit impressed.

"Who are you to defy me? You think your little speed can match to that of a pure god? Think again." He kneeled back on the ground, kicking and running his legs against the ground, increasing his speed getting ready for the liftoff. He hadn't done it before, but if he was going to win this bout it was going to take pure effort, blood and sweat alike. He kicked his feet from the ground, spinning around Mach, creating a tornado like substance as he spun backwards against the wall.

He tried to use his speed to prevent the hit, but to no avail was it. He blinked as fast as he could and tried as hard as he could to defy gravity, to defy motion, but he couldn't, he couldn't at all.

His skull cracked, feeling like falling on a million pieces of glass. He cried out, trying to regain his consciousness before he'd find himself back in the cell of nightmares. He crawled, feeling his lip bleed even horrid than before as he sighed, watching Mach oust the tornado he had created.

"What's it going to take to beat this guy?

He tried to think back and forth through his mind, trying to find a way to outwit him, to overpower him. He grinned, almost falling back down as he stood up. He had a plan, and Mach was going to play right into it, He walked in circles, eying him with every step and breath.

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rawhide Character Portrait: Mach Character Portrait: Thunder
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Lou had been sitting alone at his favorite hole in the wall bar after a particularly uninteresting day when the evening news, which played on the old ratty looking TV above the bar, had come on with breaking news. Apparently some sort of massive breakout was occurring and the footage he saw of the nearby high security prison resembled something much more similar to a warzone than any prison Lou could imagine.

“I'm gonna need that drink to go.”

Moments later Rawhide was racing through the streets of NewYork on his Harley, weaving in and out of traffic in a terrifying display of skill. He'd arrived at the nearest police station adorned in his signature leather mask and black tank-top. Making his way inside he quickly found an officer, his slight street credit giving him just enough of an edge to not get his masked ass thrown back outside.

He didn't even have to fully explain who he was before he was whisked away to meet the next officer up on the totem poll-this went on for almost twenty minutes before Rawhide was able to talk his way onto a SWAT copter.

“Were going to drop you in B wing.” A particularly grizzled and ancient looking SWAT leader barked at Rawhide over the roar of the menacingly black helicopter they rode in, then the old man offered some sort of machine gun looking rifle to Rawhide.

Rawhide let out a chuckle as he waved his hands as if to say no. “Probly just wind up killin myself with that somehow. There any powers in B wing?”

“Your droppin in 5!” The old man roared back as he slapped a rappelling cord in Rawhide's right hand, he also quickly added. “And no, just abunch of crazy sick psycho individuals. You'll hit the powers in C wing, if they haven't broken out yet.”

“AKA: A cake walk. Look after yourself old timer!” And with that Rawhide flung himself out of the copter, using the rappelling rope more like a vine in a Tarzan movie as he smashed through a prison window, which for all he knew may or may not have led to B wing. He landed on a metallic catwalk of sorts with a loud painful sounding thud, a noise simply lost in the commotion that was the entire island.

He stood up now inside the prison, absent mindidly brushing the broken glass off himself as he began casually surveying the inside of what was possibly “B Wing”. He was acting particularly calm for the situation, as if smashing into a prison action movie style was just another day at the office. Maybe it was?

Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Black Midas
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"What was going on?" The whole prison seemed to have shook as if struck by a rogue earthquake. Rufford Murdoch, or Black Midas, as some of the doctors fancied calling him. The name came about after an interview with Murdoch, when he mentioned his tragedy was just like that of King Midas. Rufford enjoyed mythology as a child but has grown to regret it, finding the moniker to be both degrading and demeaning. It labeled him as a thing rather than a person. Of course if he was in there shoes he can understand why they would do such a thing. His power repulses even himself sometimes.

There are days he feels Human, but then there are days he feels like a monster. Sometimes he enjoys it but most times he is disgusted by it. Many times he contemplated suicide, but being locked away in a padded cell whilst wearing a straight jacket makes the act rather impossible. Damn those Doctors! Did they not realize he would starve to death in this cell!? He could feel that gnawing, nagging feeling within his stomach, his mind, his soul! His body was weak and reduced to nothing but skin and bones. But those Doctors are studying this strange phenomenon. Oh how he curses them, he wishes death upon them, a death as painful and as terrible as starvation!

It would seem his malicious wishful thinking has succeeded. Locked away in Solitary Confinement, not for himself, but rather for the protection of the prison's inmates, the metallic door swung wide open. Someone must have flipped the main control switch, otherwise these cell doors can only be opened manually by entering the seven digit code in the cell door control panel located right beside said cell. As perceived by Murdoch no guard or doctor stood by the Door Panel, just what in the world is happening on Shadow Isle? All of the cell doors swung open, releasing few of his dangerous neighbors, but like h,e they too wore straight jackets, they were no more a threat to him than he was to them. They seemed more interested in escape rather than bother him.

Unfortunately, Murdoch has grown weak from this accursed starvation. His compressed cheeks revealed his cheekbones as severe bags underneath the eyes proved this man had little to no sleep for who knows how long. "How am I to escape?" he thought. Strapped up like this? Not only is his movement hampered, he cannot even touch the material to rot it away, let alone perform a feeding. His hands are strapped up against his chest, if only he could move one finger away from his flesh he could dissolve this damnable restraint, but alas he cannot. He needed outside help but who? Who would help to free the man they are calling Black Midas? Most fear to even touch him at all.

He decided to move into the nearest bathroom, and as luck would have it, someone took to smashing up most of the mirrors. The shards of glass, could they be enough to cut the straps? He lazily walked towards the pieces of shattered glass. The very act of walking was far too tiring, he was too weak. He dropped to his knees as the shards cut into his pants. He didn't mind however, he was dying and the pain of starvation was far greater. Yet, fear began to seep into his mind, a deep rooted fear, a primal instinct to survive. Nearly fading away into unconsciousness, he willed himself forward and grabbed a piece of glass with his mouth. He stood up and laid the shard upon the sink. He rose up to his feet as he took the shard by his teeth and stabbed it into the soft walling behind the mirrors. As it protruded on the edge, he backed up against it and began to cut. The material of the jacket was strong, stronger than the sharp piece of mirror. It did cut yes, but it would not cut all the way through. He didn't need it to, he need the restraints to weaken, allowing for more movement, enough for just a single finger.

As he worked away, a guard entered, one of the lucky ones, or in this case an unlucky one. He recognized him, a true trooper, he sought to restrain Murdoch and put him back into his cell. "Come on Murdoch, you're going back in!" He shouted as he tackled him to the floor. "No!" Murdoch yelled. "I won't go back in!" He spoke struggling to even gasp in the air to speak. The restraint weakened as he worked to move his finger away from his body. "Stop struggling! You're not going to get out of here, Midas!" The Guard barked. Success! A finger wiggled it's way onto the fabric, the sleeve disintegrated right before him. With animal-like reflexes, he whipped his body around as his freed hand latched upon the guard's face. Instantly Murdoch could feel the life-force surging throughout his body, bringing him back from the very edge of death. The Guard screamed as his face began to decay, he whipped out his nightstick and struck Murdoch to the ground. Leaving a very nasty wound across his forehead.

With new found energy, Murdoch quickly retaliated and grabbed the man's ankle. The area around his foot quickly decayed as he dropped to the ground. Fighting for his life the guard struck Murdoch's hand repeatedly. Angered by this, Murdoch quickly grabbed the nightstick as it fell apart right in the man's hand. Frightened he tried to crawl away. With a growl, Murdoch stood up as the shards of glass stuck in his legs seemed to have pushed themselves out. His body was already healing quickly. He then sat upon the guard's back pinning him to the ground. With a sneer he clamped his hand around the nape of the man's neck. "I'm sorry Johnathan, but it was either you or me, and I chose me!" Murdoch growled as he stole the very life away from him. Johnathan screamed as his body began to convulse. Color left from the man's skin and hair, he seemed to age very rapidly and soon the decay sat in. Murdoch released Johnathan leaving him as nothing more than corpse, one that looks like it's been dead in the ground for months on in. Vitality surged within Murdoch as he quickly rose to his feet. The gash on his head quickly resealed itself leaving nothing, not even a scar. Removing the rest of the jacket, Murdoch turns to an unbroken mirror to examine himself.

Image He still looked sickly and weak, at this point he would need to feed upon several more people in order to return to his normal, healthy self. Still he had enough energy to move without his body collapsing on him. "Now if I could only find a couple guards or inmates, that should be enough energy for me to get back to the mainland, then I can do some real siphoning." He spoke to himself as he exited the restroom. He soon found his quarries, it wasn't hard considering many of them where running around like lunatics, obsessed with causing as much destruction and chaos as they can. Their madness will be their downfall. They defended themselves of course but coming to contact with Murdoch is just what he wanted. Once he touched them, they found his grip to be strong as he reduced a few inmates to nothing more than decomposed corpses.

He felt life filling him up, as he walked out into a catwalk. In order to escape he would need a layout of the building and the blueprints can be found in the offices. He watched with horror as bodies were strewn about and fires raged within the building. He hoped the offices were alright, he need the layout to figure out the safest, and sneakiest way out of the prison complex. He noticed the corpses of some officers, so boats or helicopters maybe outside. He would need to commandeer one if he could. But first the offices. He then turned away from the scenes of carnage and headed back to the innards of the complex.

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Character Portrait: Sorceress Character Portrait: Warlock
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Max was laying on his bed, face into the pillow, newspapers scattered across the floor, all of them covered in highlighter marks, sticky notes and pencil-drawn circles around points of major interest. Iris walked up to the door of his room, fully dressed in her costume. "Come on, big brother! Prison break! Let's go!" She turned on the TV to a news report, coming straight from the island. Max groaned, "Really, Iris? In the middle of the night?" He rolled over in his bed, so his head was facing the TV, "Yes! Come on! We have powers! Are we just not gonna do anything with them for the rest of our lives? You always wanted to be a superhero! I mean, look at all these comic books you have! And our dad actually was one! This is our big chance! I didn't make costumes for nothing!" Max rolled over again and rubbed his eyes before sitting up, "Alright, just give me about twenty minutes." She walked out and whispered to herself, "Yes!"

He rolled of bed and yawned as he ran his fingers through his hair before putting on his costume. [The male, obviously. And without the wings.] "I have to admit, this is pretty sweet!" he spun, turned around and posed a few times in front of the mirror, "Are you done yet, you big dork?" Iris laughed and pulled a grin while she stood at the door of his bedroom. "Oh my god!" He jumped and she laughed again, "Yeah, let's go, I suppose." Max and Iris walked out of his room and then, their apartment. "I'm just gonna teleport straight over there, you?" Iris put the apartment keys into her jacket's pocket, "I'll teleport too. It'll be quicker, don't need to waste time taking the scenic route and you know how much I love the scenic route." "Well then, I'll see you there!" She disappeared in a quick blink of light purple energy, he did the same a few seconds after, his energy being a pale blue.

They both decided to appear in a hallway, clear of inmates, superhumans, there was nothing. They could hear gunshots and explosions in the distance, "Let's go find some evil guy to stop, huh, Maxxie?" She smiled and he smiled back at her to his right as he said, "Well that's why we came here, right?"

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Character Portrait: Babylon
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Babylon sat in his room, he was relaxing and almost sleeping in the shadows. It had been a tough day at school, trying not to do anything stupid or get in trouble, or blast some ones face off with shadows and now he was finally getting to sleep... until his cousin burst i the door which made Babylon jump from the corner.

"Daniel couldn't you knock" he says annoyed glaring at his cousin who just rolled his eyes.

"This is important Babylon, check out the news quickly!".

With that Daniel ran out his room and Babylon turned to his laptop. He switched it on and waited for it to load up. He had no clue what had gotten Daniel acting so nuts but whatever it was, had to be important for him to be screaming their apartment down. He loaded up the news and was shocked. Prisoners escaping, fires, swat teams, chaos. Then he read in further and saw one image of it that a reporter had gone and cursed. In it was his brother and father, fighting guards and trying to escape with everyone else. Babylon slammed his laptop shut and ran downstairs. He ran straight past his aunt and out the door, ignoring her calls for him to come back. He didn't live too far away from the prison island but it definitely took time to run all the way there.

When he got where he could see the island he cursed. The island was clearly in chaos from all the way back here. He could see smoke rising and helicopters hovering over the island and could see further down the coast on his side that more helicopters were about to join them.


They would not escape.


Babylon stuck to the shadows, his dark clothes and fair made this easier so less energy could be used. He has managed to sneak himself onto a helicopter as the crews and pilots were looking away setting things up and blended in the shadows and was now waiting to be closer to the island. He tried keeping his head and mind clear and focused on the task and not on the fear of who he was against, or the crowds of the prison, or....no...He wouldn't think about it. He just focused on making sure his family didn't get out. Of course he would help stop others too, but they were his top priority.

He didn't want there crimes to hurt people again, especially his brother. They had apparently been stealing and attacking people for years before Babylon realised, but that's just what the officer in charge had told him when he woke at the hospital years ago.

He looked out the window silently and saw they were over the island and it was clearly the closest they were getting. He closed his eyes and concentrated hard 'Just like practice' he thought to himself and he managed to slip into the shadow and vanish from the helicopter and appear in an opened dark abandoned cell bellow, But he felt a little dizzy.

"Damn it" he quietly whispered to himself. He had to conserve his energy the best he could until he found them.

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6 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Veil Character Portrait: MultiDude Character Portrait: Rawhide Character Portrait: Black Midas Character Portrait: Mach Character Portrait: Thunder
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"The names Veil," [Veil] responded. "I am glad but we don't have time to wait for you to listen to me. There are a large number of inmates beating and torturing a group of prisoner guards in the cafeteria. You need to know that their is a young man among he inmates as well as a male and female pair that are also here to help. So please exercise caution." [Veil] proceeded to guide [Rawhide] to the cafeteria as she described how the others looked.

There were a few bumps along the way but thanks to [Rawhide]'s reflexes with plenty of warning there was little time wasted and minimum damage done to the convicts. But just enough to keep them down for a few hours.

They finally arrived at the cafeteria and [Veil] had finished telling him the location of everyone in there, as well as explaining that she was going to distract them away from the door but using the radio and shorting out the lights to create an opening for [Rawhide] to slip in and music which would disorient.

"Oh, and by the way." She started to emphasize. "I put on your favorite song right as you enter. Good luck"

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Dude 2 was dead before he hit the ground. Each [MultiDude] seemed to be be in slight pain as they each dove for cover. To nurse an invisible pain round their neck. but Dude 4 was in actual pain and had more to deal with as he checked the leg and was relieved to see the bullets had gone straight through. The problem was stopping the bleeding, but soon [Multitude] was kneeling right next to his double and without saying a word the double seemed to instantly be absorbed with a single touch. A slight but tolerable pain flared in his leg, the same place the bullet had hit Dude 4. The other doubles had recovered from the death of Dude 2 and had continued to shoot from covered positions.

With a bit of concentration and forced relaxation [MultiDude] snapped his fingers and suddenly new Double was made with the slight scarring onthe leg as if a bullet had passed through. [MultiDudes] didn't have a lot of major scars due to their ability to split the damage upon merging back together. In short personal instant psuedo-healing. The newly freshed Dude "4.1" got up and soon they both joined the others firing.

"How are we doing," [MultiDude] asked the Dudes 1 & 3.

"Well," started Dude 1. "Our ally isn't dead, but nor is the enemy. Sooooo -"
"We are thinking we MIGHT have the advantage" added Dude 3.

"How are things going, V?" asked [MultiDude].

"I've gotten in contact with a few allies, and hopefully the others as well soon. But it is quite busy everywhere. About ninety-five percent of the inmates have been either killed or captured so far. It is the last five percent that are being a bit smarter than the average convict. It would help if you wrapped that up all of you moved to help the others in need." [Veil] said with a matter fact tone to her voice. [MultiDudes] chuckled and shook their heads. They were used to her way of talking and thinking. They usually called her, away from her and cameras, a ScreenWriter or Producer. She looked at everything through a screen or from a distance if she had it projecting images into her head. Her mindset made it difficult to relate to situations that others are face. She was more of a strategist than a warrior.

"Sure thing," [MultiDude] replied. In the next minute they all unhooked something from their vests and with a slight tug and click.

"FIRE IN HOLE" they shouted and with their combined vision they accurately threw 4 grenades passed their allie and closer to the armed enemy. "Sorry Buddy!" they yelled before taking cover.

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[Veil] watched as the fighting continued but also was worried about the man known as [Black Midas] who had now killed and was using a hostage to escape prying eyes. She quickly called forth blue prints trying to figure out where the doctor was taking him. If [Veil] couldn't get anyone there this man just might escape.

Another scene that was quite unpredictable was the one between the two speedsters. The both seemed to have good heads on their shouders, so to speak, but a strange charisma. One [Mach] was lighthearted and determined and the other [Thunder] was just as determined and confident, though it might be close to arrogance, but with the right people, these two made quite good leaders. They were rather inspirational from a 3rd party objective perspective.

Either way she was going to send backup to make sure the right conclusion plays out. She thought all this while her toes wiggled in her Buuv slippers.

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Character Portrait: MultiDude Character Portrait: Agent 16 Character Portrait: Josiah Armstrong
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The headbutt seemed to do the trick, for he was released from the man's grip. He quickly spun to face him, giving little thought to the outcome of the identical men. Before he could take even a step forth, the man had drawn a weapon, and fired on two of the identical men, and by the time he took his first step, his barrel was trained on him.

He welcomed each round as they smacked into his skin, leaving not even so much as an imprint before tumbling to the ground at his feet. This gun packed more of a punch, he could feel it juicing through his body, filling his limbs with vigor. The man began to reload, and just when he thought he was going to make an attempt on him, the identical men shouted, "FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

4 hand grenades were lobbed into his view, landing in the gap between him and the man. "Oh hell yeah!" He shouted, before springing forth, this time with much more speed and force, enough to leave two small holes in the concrete where he once stood, toward the man.

He collided with the explosion of the grenades, it washed over him, he could feel the heat, but only for a split second, for every bit of force absorbed from the explosion was channeled immediately into pushing his body faster toward his target, his arm held out wide in an attempt to clothesline him.

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4 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rawhide Character Portrait: Sorceress Character Portrait: Mach Character Portrait: Warlock
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"Gah!" Max got drop kicked in the middle of his back, which left him falling and sliding across the rocky concrete ground, "Return to my cell? What's your psychopathic problem, Sonic the Hedgehog?!" As Warlock taunted Mach, Rawhide broke free and sent two pieces of concrete flying at Iris, hitting her and making her fall backwards, "Ahh!" She got back up from the ground, lifting the pieces up with telekinesis and tossing them back at him, "You messed with the wrong witch, buddy. Time to pay." Max was on his knees trying to shoot optic blasts and beams from his eyes at the speedster as Mach zapped across from spot to spot, "Come on, come on! Just stay still, you bloody dingus!" Once again, the speedster rushed at him and punched him straight in the nose, knocking him on his back, "Oh, for god sakes!"




OOC: Sorry my post is so short, not alot to do, really.
EDIT: And Veil's comment I'll do in the next post. And plus, I f**ked up the place again. Sorry.

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5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Veil Character Portrait: Rawhide Character Portrait: Sorceress Character Portrait: Mach Character Portrait: Warlock
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Both Max and Iris' phones started to ring, they couldn't hear from the battle, but shortly after, Rawhide and Mach had stopped fighting, Mach checking a walkie talkie from his belt. Max pulled out his phone, just in case. Iris did the same and they both found a few texts from one particular person, someone named "Veil," an unfamiliar name to both the twins. They all read;

"For crying out loud! You're all on the same blasted side!"

"We have much bigger problems. A fellow 'hero' is being beaten inside,"

"Rawhide and Mach you still need to help in the courtyard to assist our group against that killer. You two, Iris and Max, need to use whatever power you used to get into the prison and help out the young hero."


"So could you please stop this nonsense and actually save people's lives?"

'Well, how convenient.' Max start to telepathically speak with his sister. 'Well, it could be a trap,' His sister replied.

'Well, duh, but, it could also be not a trap.'

'I'm not gonna even respond to that.'

'But you just did.'

'Shut up and get back in the fight, you big doofus.'

'On another topic, you're usually the naive one that decides to trust everyone. I guess the tables have turned.'

'I'm not saying I don't trust it, I just- Why don't you just get back into the fight...'

"HOLD ON!" Rawhide cried out as a concrete slab smashed into his face. "I said hold on dammit!" He uproared again. "Alright, alright, we're holding on, keep your bloody socks on," Max said as he got off the ground and brushed himself off. “Just a quick show of hands, HONESTLY, who is here to fight bad guys?!” Iris hand shot up like a rocket while Max stretched his arms and legs, making a small snapping sound with each turn before twisting his neck from side to side, making another two snaps before putting his lanky arm up in the air as well. "Oh well, would you look at that."