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Devon Metzger

"I guess you could say that I'm living on borrowed time. Then let's not waste it."

0 · 855 views · located in Atlas City

a character in “Hadean”, as played by chaotix14

Description

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Theme 1 – Camouflage - Sabaton
Theme 2 – Heart of Courage - Two Steps From Hell (FalKKonE Cover)
Theme 3 – Hell's Kitchen - Dream Theater
Theme 4 – The Light - Disturbed
Theme 5 – The Brave and the Bold - Disturbed
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Full Name: Devon Arnulf Metzger
Alias: Freischütz
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Germanic

Hair: Dull brown kept mostly unstyled and hanging down to his ears.

Eye color: amber

Body: Muscular well built conforming to his broad shoulders and long limbs.

Height: 1.89 meter / 6'2 feet

Weight: 97 kg / 213 lb

Hometown: Seevetal, Germany

Affiliation(s): Minnelinde Brewery(owner & brewmaster)

Personality: Cynical, empathetic yet a big fan of schadenfreude and dark humor.

Likes:
- Coffee

- Military gear

- Tranquil silence

- Discussions

- Biochemistry



Dislikes:
- Abuse of power

- Crowds

- Hot weather

- Artificial sugars

- Overly upbeat people




Fears:
- A slow painful death

- Zealotism

- Losing his way

- Being experimented on


Skills:
- Warrior mindset, capable of keeping calm in life or death situations and able to quickly asses a general situation and form a plan of action.

- Braumeister, through his superior Germanic roots.... Nah, Devon has gone through studies, courses and a proper apprenticeship both in the US and Germany(really good for branding) to become officially recognized as a brewmaster in the US and a braumeister in Germany. A good set of taste buds, curious experimenting mind and an unwillingness to accept lower standards do the rest.

- Aware, through the imparted skills and knowledge of the weapons he uses on a regular basis he has become much more aware of his surroundings, able to feel the gaze of someone who is actively aware of him even more so if said individual has hostile intentions. Making it quite hard to catch him completely by surprise, unless it's an attack of opportunity made the moment one sees him Devon will already be somewhat aware of the assailants presence.

- Industrial navigator, with the combined experience in his time as a volunteer fire fighter and his work in breweries Devon is more adept at covering the mazelike terrain of the industrial kind, clambering, jumping, running, sliding down and squeezing through mazeworks of ducts, pipes, catwalks, ladders, manholes, cabling and machinery are as second nature to him as opening a door.

Costume Identities:


Equipment:
- Freischütz' signature set of clothes. A black helmet attached to which is an armored mask covering his entire face with deep red glasses covering his eyes. A black long sleeved armored vest covered by a brown trenchcoat, a pair of black jeans hiding thin gamberson pants below, brown steel toed boots and a pair of black gloves with an armor plate strapped to the back. The helmet and face mask are equipped with radio equipment, air purifier with a back-up enclosed air supply(in case things get too hostile outside) and thermal & low light capable functionalities embedded into the glasses. The suit as a whole is heavily thermal resistant, electrically insulated, stab and slash proof under conventional means(superpowered data unavailable) and sufficiently blunt force protected that while the suit may be thrown around the contents should be mostly okay.

- A set of Glock G20 10mm pistols. While their appearance may deceive you into thinking they are just regular old handguns the moment the bullets start homing in on your position that illusion should be dispelled quite quickly. Thanks to Devon's power they sport a wide selection of ammunition they can unload in rapid succession without a need to reload. Bullet types available include: Regular, Rubber, Armor piercing full metal jacket, Incendiary, Cryogenic, Explosive, Electrical, High kinetic and Structural fire suppressing foam.

- A highly modified Haenel RS9 .338 lapua magnum marksman-rifle. Sporting an advanced multi-magnification scope, a custom shortened magazine and a somewhat oversized looking muzzle break, this bad boy is the weapon that earned him his reputation in the shadows. Just like it's brethren it's bullets are capable to home, but due to an increased velocity and emphasis on firepower it amounts to little more than a minor course correction. As mentioned the firepower of this beasty was increased quite a bit thanks to Devon's power and the ordinance it carries is also quite a bit more lethality packed behind it. Ammunition types he seemingly conjures from the void include: Regular, Rubber(depending on distance can still lead to excessive internal hemorrhaging and organ damage), Armor piercing APFSDS, Explosive, Fragmentation air burst and Incendiary.

- A 6 bladed flanged mace. A 1.5kg(3lb) heavy and 70cm(27inch) long flanged mace with 6 blades made from tool steel. It has some minimal decorations in the form of clover shaped holes along the blades to improve the handling of the mace. While severely neglected in comparison to the fire arms, one shouldn't be surprised should an electric charge be delivered through one of the blades, as the mace itself has been enhanced to be more suitable for non-lethal engagements able to perform more in line of what would be expected of a stun baton, though the low impact ability and static charge itself can also be used independently if so desired.




Background: Devon was born in one of the more well of parts of the town Seevetal, not too far from the original border with the DDR(Eastern Germany) and while tensions have been lower since the reconciliation between east and west Germany the area was still heavy with military activity. As such Devon's parents not quite convinced that their backyard won't just suddenly become a warzone have always kept an eye open for the potential relocation to another safer country. One such opportunity came when his father Bernard Arnulf Metzger was invited to teach at the university in Atlas City as one of the leading experts in field of biochemistry, though when the invitation came suddenly what seemed like a logical choice became a very difficult step to actually make to throw away the lives they built up for a new chance in an unknown land. After many a night of long discussions and both sides switching stance on an almost daily basis they finally made the decision to go for it and try to build up a new life in the US.
Having done quite a bit of research before their move they managed to find a small house in one of the suburbs and could settle in quickly, despite this it was quite a culture shock for the entire family. Devon had to learn an entire new language, which he managed to master in a relatively short order thanks to his parents who had already been fluent in English due to their respective jobs nature. Both parents had a hard time doing groceries given that the cuts of meat they were used to were cut slightly differently and some items which had become common fare for them were simply unavailable or only available as products designed for a completely different flavor palette, to name just one of the oddities they had to adapt to.
After months or perhaps better said years though one could hardly differentiate them from second or perhaps even third generation immigrants, sure they still had their own cultural ideas and weren't quite sold on the white picket fence, millimetred lawn and flagpole idea but fit in well enough to have established friendly relations with their neighbors. Devon for his part had a rather uneventful, but good, time in middle school with good grades and a fair few friends who he'd end up hanging out with in high school.
Then high school came and rather quickly the teachers found out Devon shared the same passion and affinity with the biochemical excelling far beyond what could be expected from a high school student(also thanks to his father tutoring him on the side) and given his mother language he quickly found himself swamped by kids from the German classes trying to polish their language skills on a native speaker. overall it was a bright and flourishing time for him, that was until one day at school he was called to the principals office. Once there he was informed that his father had just passed away, a radical environmentalist super had penetrated the campus and gone on a murder spree killing all affiliated with the beta faculties in cold blood. The perpetrator had been killed in the process of capturing him, but for many of the victims it had been too late for help to arrive including Devon's father.
Things were never quite the same after that, Devon still excelled at chemistry and biology and he still was surrounded by many who at the very least could be considered good acquaintances, and his mother still smiled the same way at him, but the happy peaceful life Devon's parents had gone through such lengths to attain had been shattered. Through it all Devon powered on unwilling to waste away the biggest gift his dad had left him, his aptitude and ability in all things biochemical.
Devon had frequently joked about it, but never really considered he'd pull through with it when he had said that he'd take an apprenticeship at a brewery instead of going to college to "honor his Germanic roots", but there he stood working under the wing of a master brewer, following a couple courses applicable to the field in his spare time and prepped for the eventual next step of starting a brewery of his own. And after 5 though years there he was with both an American and a Germany certificate of brewmastership and a small brewery and still to his name, although most of it sponsored by his mother. In the meantime he had also followed his tutor in his footsteps and joined the volunteer fire fighters following the logic of "We who toil day in day out near heat, fire and flammables ought to know how to put them out should we need to." it made sense at the time and he did indeed learn a decent few valuable skills along the way.
Then one fateful day disaster struck once more a day Devon can remember vividly the smell, the sounds, the heat. A forest fire had been raging and everyone available was called out to help with whatever they could. Devon had been helping civilians from the area when his vehicle was smashed by a dead tree, pushed over by the winds the forest fire made, as he checked a cabin along the road for people. Utterly stuck far away from any assistance and the fire quickly encroaching Devon felt like that day may have been his last. Though thinking it would be an exercise in futility he ran as fast he could back the way he came, only to be faced with the flickering light of a thousand embers all around him. It was at that point when the desperation truly set in that a soldier in a car stopped right next to him and offered him a ride. Devon thanked the man for saving his bacon as he got in the car and introduced himself then asked his saviors name. The soldier said with a chuckle "They just call me Arsenal." As they made their way back to a safer location they were met with burning branches from the trees and whole trees themselves toppling down along the roadside, but as through a miracle none seemed to have hit them, at least the car wouldn't have survived the impact of a tree... Right?
When a fire trench under construction finally came into view the soldier stopped the car and said "You go on ahead, I still have unfinished business back there." Devon got out of the car and they said their goodbye. Devon got quite a few curious looks as he walked over the embankment of the fire trench and into the view of the people in and around the trench, after all he had come walking out from an area where they knew there was fire. When he told his story to one of the guys intercepting him and dropped the name "Arsenal" a quiet murmur among the soldiers in the trench spread. One of the guy then took him by the arm to one of the trucks next to the ditch mumbling as they walked. "Hell, we always thought he was joking, but damn... It's real them." He then opened the back and said "This here is Arsenal, passed away a few hours ago... Here, his dog tags... I guess they are yours now." His voice cracking as he handed Devon a set of dog tags with a slip of paper twisted around them.
In a half dazed state, unable to completely comprehend had just happened in these last few hours, Devon helped the soldiers with the fire trench and rode the truck back to base camp. When the forest fires finally died down through a change in the weather, he got to go back home, with the dog tags and the slip of paper in hand. Once home he took a silent moment to reflect on it all and finally looked at the slip of paper, in it was a letter written by Arsenal to "whomever it may concern" detailing all he knew about the dog tags and their history ending with "No need to mourn me, I was just glad to be of help to a friend."
In the end aside from the dog tags sticking to him like a puppy with abandonment issues nothing seemed different, the onset of his powers was rather subtle. Appliances in his house didn't break down, the microwave lost that annoying cold spot making defrosting easier, his bed felt more comfortable for some reason and he always seemed to be able to get closer to fires than his colleagues. The moment when he realized something was off only came when he grabbed a knife to dice some onions and his mind was suddenly flooded by short bladed combat techniques and he had reflexively sprung into a defensive stance, one he could name and dissect to the tiniest flaws and strengths as if it was just common everyday knowledge. From that point onward Devon started experimenting with his powers finding out what items triggered what kind of knowledge, eventually determining that if it could be a halfway reasonable weapon it would trigger his powers. Eventually he did discover the other part of his power, after the very subtle signs became a bit less subtle and he started experimenting with those powers as well.
Within a year after the incident at the forest fire Devon had scourged together the items that would eventually make up his iconic costume and a set of pistols. He quit his volunteer work for the fire fighters claiming that he just couldn't continue doing both his job at the brewery and the volunteer work, but promised that he'd drop by occasionally, with the others jokingly adding "with a few cold ones preferably".(and to be fair the brewery was doing quite well after the name started spreading through the high society with a few resorts even commissioning a unique exclusive beer to serve) Under the alias of "Freischütz" he took government courses on subjects he already had plentiful experience through his volunteer work, including various rescue training courses and first aid. Utilizing this training he built up a decent reputation with the public, after all it's hard not to like a hero who willingly jumps into burning buildings to get every last person out, even when said building is about to collapse on itself. On the shadow side though, there have been a number of cases where criminals have been shot, but no bullet remaining at the scene nor any signs that they were physically removed. Also a fair few cases where shoplifters, pick pockets and other petty criminals were found minutes after committing a crime restrained in some sticky goop that dissolved into nothingness after a short period of time. There may be those who have an inkling of who might be responsible, but without proof and most of them not living on the right side of the law... All they can do is speak his name in hushed tones.



Powers:

Artisan of war
[Thinker(4)]
Devon is capable of gaining mastery(including muscle memory) of the use of weapons / fighting styles by creating a connection with said weapon or an attribute used for said weapon style, however to maintain the connection he must stay in physical contact of the item and once the connection is lost almost instantly all of the gained mastery will drain away only leaving a tiny fraction of the skill as residual(dependent on the length the connection remained). Due to the residual mastery that remains after each use it is possible to train up mastery to the point where reliance on the ability is no longer needed, however given that usage of the skill usually requires the weapon in question to be in hand it's only really useful for unarmed fighting styles.

Tsukumogami Maker
[Shaker(5)-Blaster(8)-Striker(2) ]
Items that are frequently used by Devon gain the ability to grow stronger and gain beneficial features through repeated use. The growth of these objects quite slow, but has shown no upper limit as of yet and the direction of growth is subconsciously steered into desires properties. One limitation that has been found is that the core functionality of the item in question can't be changed. For example a microwave won't be able to gain the ability to freeze things, the more complex and directed the original function the less leeway it has.

Wraith Form
[Mover(3)-Changer(3)-Stranger(5)]
Devon is capable of freely shifting into wraith form, which turns him into a black smoke with no real physical properties only giving a spatial representation of where Devon’s consciousness is located rendering him invulnerable to anything aside from direct mental attacks on his consciousness. When shifting into raith form it appears as if Devon dissolves in the air around him leaving only wispy strings of smoke leaving little ways to track him other than keeping a close eye on the smoke as it moves. When shifting away from wraith form the smoke converges making it appear as if he is walking out of the cloud of smoke rather than it reconstructing him. Shifting into and out of wraith form can be reversed at any point during the transformation. With conscious effort Devon can take others with him into wraith form, but it requires there to be a physical link between him and any others, lowers the maximum achievable speed, creates a larger amount of smoke proportional to the amount and size of the people he takes with him and increases the time it takes to shift into and out of wraith form. Not to mention the sensory overload the passenger might experience while in wraith form.
While in wraith form Devon can freely move through any non-solid materials even allowing him to squeeze through the tiniest cracks and holes with ease. It also allows him to move at increased speeds depending on the how restricting the materials around him are, with cramped spaces and highly viscous liquids being the slowest. As a side effect wraith form also gives Devon vision, hearing and smell for all directions within and around the smoke clouds as well as bodily awareness of the smoke


Power Origins: Anomalous Incident. Devon received his powers through the inheritance of a special set of dog tags. The origin of which can be traced back to a marine on his deathbed stating their dying wish to save one young marine from certain death, the manifestation of this desire then did end up saving one such marine. Who in turn took over the tags, gained new powers and became the next in the cycle, saving one more life after theirs was extinguished and passing on the torch. The true nature of these dog tags has yet to be determined, the same goes for the question on whether the first marine was the one to start the chain or that it's power dates back further.





Color Code:dark red
Spoiler: show
#2F4F4F

So begins...

Devon Metzger's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Akiko Bong
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All in all not a bad day, but did it really have to start this way and this early? Nothing like getting called out of bed at 4 am for a fluttering valve. Then batch quality verification had to be done by 5 am, color, vol%, smell, flavor, chemical profile, mouth feel, the whole works, all so everything would be bottled and ready to ship by 8 am when the truck would come, today they had 40 minutes to spare. Why did they even need to pick up the beer this early, aren't trucks allowed near the resort after 10 or something? In any case that'd be 1000 bottles of premium product going to the kind of resort where asking the price of something proves you're at the wrong address. Funny how branding works, never ran any ads or promotions, no flashy labels, just a title, quality product and a low quantity, and boom you're considered a brand with high standing.

"If you see John tell him valve 32's actuator is completely fucked, he'll love my emergency measures. I'm going to get myself some breakfast and a cup of wake me up, haven't eaten anything since dinner."

Devon grabbed his trenchcoat off the coat hangers in the office and walked out. Only one place nearby(ish) with decent coffee and food this time of the day, well two but he doubted the guys would appreciate him gorging himself on their lunches.

As the diner came into view he noticed a... woman, girl?... walk through through the entree and immediately decide against entering. Perhaps it was too busy for her liking? Either way it was the only place he knew that served decent coffee within his fuel range. He soon found out as he opened the door and looked inside. Yeah, packed at least for this time of day. Devon sighed and walked further into the diner passing a fashionably dressed man sitting in the booth nearest to the door, a man who gave him more than just a passing glance as he made his way to a nice empty stool at the counter.

He looked through the diner for a moment to get a better idea of the company around, a couple of nervous types it seemed hopefully they weren't planning to bring any trouble and everyone on their own, aside from that group of three... Not quite, a group of two the third just joined the conversation just a couple of seats away. In his casual fascination with the company around he was almost startled as the waitress asked to take his order.

"A black coffee, a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich and a blueberry muffin, please." As the waitress scribbled down his order she sniffed for a moment and gave a puzzled look. Devon returned a look of confusion for a moment before coming to his conclusion. "Malted barley and maybe a hint of spill from bottling." He said with a bit of a grin on his face. At least she didn't immediately draw the conclusion he had been drinking at 7 in the morning.

After being presented with a mug of dark brown and steaming hot wake me up and taking a couple royal swigs of it almost too big for how hot the beverage was Devon turned his attention to his phone. Lot's of viewgrabbing of the major media outlets as always, with only a few worthwhile articles... And a business e-mail, a rather large reservation for one of the higher end brews currently sat aging in the basement from a familiar name. Seems his brand was really catching on at the resort.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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”Ready to order yet, hun?” Sheri had been sitting at the booth for nearly 20 minutes at this point, and the waitress had clearly gotten impatient. She considered brushing her off again, but the diner had gotten so crowded in the interim that she felt it best just to give the waitress something to work with and keep her from bothering her again.
She flipped through the menu that had been sitting untouched up to that point, looking for something that looked even remotely appetizing. ”Uh…. eggs.”
”Scrambled or sunny side up?”
”Sure.”
”How many?”
”Yeah.”
The waitress rolled her eyes and walked off. Sheri glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to her. A few had noted her presence when she walked in, but they all seemed more interested in their own stuff. She would need to act quickly if she wanted to get this done and get set up at her vantage point before the target arrived; it was already nearly 8 am, which meant she had spent far more time on this than she’d anticipated.
After one more quick check to make sure no one was paying attention (was that woman at the bar keeping an eye on her? No, it was just her imagination) Sheri flicked her eyes to the seat in the booth next to her, then focused her mind and felt something fall over her like a shroud; this particular ability wasn’t very strong, but it should at least help keep people from paying attention to her. She got up, leaving an exact duplicate of herself in the seat she’d just been looking at, and moved toward the back.
She moved to open the door into the kitchen, but stepped back when she heard someone on the other side. The waitress came out with a tray holding another customer’s order, walking right past her without even a glance in her direction. Sheri slipped through before the door closed, stopping for a moment as the change in temperature between the lobby and kitchen struck her. The heat coming off the machinery made the whole back area more humid than she had expected.
She moved through the kitchen, keeping her head down while checking for any method of ingress that her target might be able to slip through. She ducked into the stock room as the cook walked past, her eyes landing on what she was looking for in the process; another door opening into the back alley, used when taking out the trash or bringing in deliveries. Now she just had to figure out how to keep it closed.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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"The pleasure is mine, Mackenzie-sama," replied Ichiro as he shook Richard's hand in his iron vice-like grip. "Yue's the regular, I literally just got off a plane last night."

"It's usually quieter in the mornings," Yue explained as she carefully applied an even coat of butter to the top of each pancake. "Lunchtime though... you almost can't get in the door." Ichiro absently slid her a dipping sauce cup from his area of the counter, into which she carefully measured the syrup.

"People go where the work is, I guess. I'm an Occupational Therapist, specializing in recovery from bone related injuries in su-sports," Ichiro explained, flinching slightly when Yue quietly jabbed the toe of her sneaker into his ankle. She was busy dissecting her pancakes into evenly sized squares to then be coated in a small amount of syrup individually prior to consumption.

Yue's eyes did routinely wander around the room during their conversation, picking up on the new arrivals and carefully observing the newer arrivals. She was beginning to feel uneasy, and shifted back and forth in her chair occasionally, like she just couldn't get comfortable. She had a hard time placing what was making her feel so uncomfortable, besides the young girl in the booth sitting eerily still... and the second newspaper reading patron in the corner. When did he arrive? Was she just noticing him? Was this the '90s? She hadn't seen a physical newspaper since grade school, but there are suddenly two in this one place. That by itself was enough to make the whole room feel off. Yue also felt like there was a pressure in the air: like there were too many gods watching this one spot while the dice of fate fell towards the table.

"Daijobudesuka? (Are you okay?)" Ichiro inquired with a slight note of concern.

"Kuki ga omoi... fuyukaidesu. (The air is heavy, it's unpleasant)," she replied.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape) Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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"Su-sports?" Richard asked bemusedly. "Sounds like it could be dangerous. But no doubt rewarding." He gave them both a soft smile. "But I agree, I've come to enjoy this spot quite a bit too. Quiet, good food, interesting people. A nice little corner of town."

Meanwhile outside, someone was making their way towards the park in the center of the neighborhood, someone who would be recognizable from the files in Sheri Galloway's possession.

Further in the distance, down another street, a group of men was starting to form up on the corner. They seemed innocuous enough at first, but the group steadily continued to pick up extras...

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Maxwell continued to read his paper as time passed on, and as 7:00 continued to march on towards 8:00, he took notice of a woman who'd passed him by a second time, and then a third. Upon the next pass, his eyes remain fixed on his paper, though his voice did not.

"Lovely day out isn't it miss? Good time for a nice walk through the town. Or the park perhaps. It certainly seems to have caught your interest it would seem."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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The French Toast was genuinely the best meal Henry had eaten in a long time. The sourness of the blackberries contrasting with the sweetness of the French Toast and the syrup? Breakfast heaven right there. And a glass of cold milk to wash it all down...he couldn't even begin to describe how distraught he felt once he cleaned his plate.



…..Well, he was planning on lying low for a while. And he hadn't eaten very much in a while either, so...Henry signaled his waitress. "Ma'am...I'd like another plate and a refill on my glass. If you don't mind!" he spoke cheerfully with a booming laugh as the waitress nodded and hurried off to another customer. This place was getting packed. All sorts of strange characters...a few he was certain gave a cautious glance his way. It wasn't anything he was too worried about. None of them seemed like the one's after him. If they were, he would recognize it instantly. Tension so thick, one could cut it like a butter knife through that delicious French Toast.

He leaned over on his table, putting a hand to his chin, looking around the restaurant. There was someone else, reading a newspaper. Good. Anything that made him stand out just a little less would help. He couldn't stay here forever though, much as he'd like too. But as long as there was no sign of the danger to come, he was more than willing to kick back for a bit. Maybe take a tour around town to see what's new once he feels it's safe enough.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape) Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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Sasha brushed the few crumbs off his jacket, folded his newspaper, and stood, stretching. He'd already settled his bill, so he gave the waitress a cheery nod as he brushed by the other patrons. Slipping the newspaper in a trash can by the door, he stepped outside and took a deep breath of the morning air.

Glancing over at the nearby park, Sasha noted that his favorite bench had been taken by a silver-haired man who was also reading the paper. Sasha's eyes narrowed, but he walked over to another, less favorite, bench and sat down, giving the man a cool glare. The man didn't notice, however, as he was busy waylaying a Hispanic...

Sasha blinked twice as the scent hit his nose, and did a double-take. That was no woman. Unless Sasha was completely mistaken, the woman walking was actually a shapeshifter.

So not only the diner but the park, Sasha thought. Fate's hands are in motion. He immediately began scanning the area, looking for any signs of disturbances. If there was one thing Sasha had learned during his tenure with his homeland, it was that Fate never played nice, but it always played fair. Something was about to happen.

Sasha considered moving away from the area for a moment. He'd spent the last few months in Atlas City keeping his head down, working a normal job, doing normal things. He wanted no reason for the government, any government, to be suspicious of him. If he were forced to use his powers now, that might all be for naught.

Sasha's mouth tightened. Unfortunately, he was no coward to run from Fate. So he remained on the park bench, seemingly relaxed on the outside but coiled tight as a spring. Que sera, sera, as they say.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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"Yeah, sports," Ichiro laughed, a little too nervously for Yue's liking. "Helping people get back on their feet is the best reward. It's nothing compared to the work my sister does," he said smiling, but did catch Yue flicking an eye towards him with a hint of annoyance.

"Please, I teach basic self-defense and fitness classes at a gym, it's nothing special," she replied. Ichiro's tendency to talk excitedly about his passions would be adorable if he weren't so annoying about doing it in public... you know, to complete strangers.

Yue scanned the room again, seeming to feel a little more comfortable. The quiet patron with the newspaper had left; the large man by the window was now wolfing down his second helping of french toast; the newest customer had yet to do anything out of the ordinary, and the man sitting at the counter with them seemed nice enough. The only real outlier was the red-haired girl.

That uneasy feeling hadn't gone away, but Yue hadn't seen her do anything especially suspicious except be awkward with the staff. Yue was pretty awkward herself, and it had taken some days to warm up to the staff. Part of what kept her coming back is that they'd just kind of accepted that she was sort of an odd duck. She wasn't letting her guard down: that gut feeling wasn't wrong very often, but she had stopped fidgeting at the very least. It probably wasn't just paranoia, but she didn't think it was coming from inside the diner at least.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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Just as he was about to put the finishing touches on his confirmation e-mail Devon's meal arrived, the beautiful incarnation of cholesterol placed in the middle with the muffin straddling the line between the edge of the plate and touching the hot mess of grease dripping bacon, sunny side eggs and half melted cheese on a butter toasted bun. Whether it was the craving for food after working on an empty stomach or the sandwich was just that good he did neither know nor care to know, but from the first bite to the last he devoured it with gusto almost letting his coffee get the time to cool the tiniest bit down in the process.

After asking the waitress for a much needed refill of his coffee he grabbed a bite of his little dessert. There was something different in the atmosphere, he had been so absorbed with his sandwich that he hadn't noticed the one with the newspaper at the counter leave, nor that there hadn't been any glancing gazes from the girl in the booth for a little bit now when she seemed to have been nervously looking around before.

He had been peripherally aware of the conversation of the three he shared the counter with taking a bit of extra note from the moment the brother and sister had exchanged a few words in an eastern language, perhaps Japanese given the brother had adressed the third as 'sama'. He could however not resist the urge to pass a glance at the sister when she had mentioned she teached 'just' basic self defense and fitness at a gym. She didn't look like she had that gym instructor/trainer fitness, if he had to say they looked more... Purpose built. They just didn't look like the sort of muscle you'd build up doing fitness or body building, much less basic self defense training. That being said he could just be wrong, it wasn't like he was a physician or had any knowledge about muscular buildup beyond that of what basic college biology teaches you.

"Well,if I may be so bold you certainly don't look like you just teach the girls to aim below the belt and how to wield a purse as a flail. I would have guessed more in the direction of a martial arts trainer, Aikido or some other soft method martial arts." Adding the last part with an aloof tone of voice as he took another bite of his muffin.

For what it was worth he had the idea that like him she was aware that something seemed just that tad bit off about the atmosphere in the diner, perhaps by mixing in on the conversation he could find something out, also she was a regular and would probably know which pastries would make for a nice surprise for the boys back at the brewery. Never hurts to show a bit of appreciation for the moments where they go above and beyond their jobs even when he wasn't there.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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N-Nani?! Yue couldn't suppress the icy chill that ran up her spine at the man's comment. She didn't even think he was listening, let alone that someone could tell what kind of martial arts she practiced just by looking at her. For one short instant she narrowed her burgundy eyes at Ichiro, who gave an embarrassed grin. Who knew a little innocent conversation would lead to digging such a deep hole? Yue was a terrible liar, so she couldn't just keep making shit up on the spot: that's what the NAHLA provided backstory that she had memorized was for. The only problem with it was that it didn't have many specific verifiable details in it... like what kind of "self-defense" she taught, at "which gym."

"W-well... It's not, but... You're...," she blustered for a long moment, becoming flushed and trying to hide behind her coffee mug while she floundered for something to say. "Y-you're not wrong, I guess. Just fundamental Tai Chi and how to apply it... you know like in a real world situation," she explained, clearly fishing.

"Wow, you can tell that just by looking at us? I bet it's her muscle structure: fitness trainers are usually built with large muscles that look impressive, but are mostly water-mass," Ichiro replied excitedly. Yue drew a slow, deep breath: if she let him, Ichiro would talk anyone's ear off about the difference between muscle mass and muscle density, or short and long muscle compression.

"Oh I'm sure it's just a lucky guess, n-no need to bore them with a biology lesson, nerd," she chided, laughing nervously and quietly wishing God would just make her invisible, or suddenly whisk her away from this conversation somehow.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape) Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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Maxwell had allowed himself a small smirk when the girl had let out a laugh at the ordeal they'd put the camera man through. Seems the moment had been mutually enjoyable, much to Tobias's expense. She seemed like she was about to say something else until another presence had arrived behind his back. The girl from before.

Did she know him or something? She'd been getting awfully familiar with him, he almost felt like she might try to devour him or something if she could. The girl with the now medical mask confirmed she was doing well now, to which he responded with a slight nod and smile. "I'm pleased to hear that." As she pulled out a cigarette pack, Maxwell felt the desire to obtain his own, as well as the permission to do so. He pulled out a small gold case and popped it open, pulling one out for himself. As he placed it back in his pocket, the girl responded with a question.


"So ah, who do you think you are?"

He gave a soft smile. "I'm-" And before he could say another word yet ANOTHER person had arrived to the group. The man seemed to know the woman behind Maxwell, Jemma apparently. He seemed strangely familiar to Maxwell if he were being honest, not in terms of looks or anything, just a feeling he got from him. Maxwell took the man's hand and shook it with polite firmness. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Dalton, Miss Jemma. Maxwell Landon, equally at your service." He gave a cordial smile to each of them, and to the masked girl who had now introduced herself as Scarlet.

She began to work her way out of the group, seeming to be preoccupied, or wanting to be preoccupied, with other important exploits. "A pleasure Miss Scarlet. Take ca-"


Another noise sounded off. Louder this time.

__________________________________________________________________


Richard smiled as both Ichiro and Yue explained the nature of their expertise's, and he took a quick moment to enjoy a few bites of the food that had newly been brought to him. After a quick gulp of orange juice, another man at the counter had butted in, putting in his own two cents about Yue's profession.

Richard was feeling pretty relaxed at this time, but he'd begun to notice that he was one of the only people in here that seemed to be feeling that. Both Yue and Ichiro had seemed off. The large man with the French toast had seemed off. The girl in the booth had stopped moving practically. He almost started to speculate that these people might be here for a revenge killing for last night, but nobody had seen him in any way. The only person who would know who he was would be that dead drug slinger, and unless his power involved regenerating his body from literal ashes, he very much doubted that was the case.

Maybe it was him though, making them a little uncomfortable or something. He'd started to wonder if they could... No, no he had been pretty good about that too, slim chance they could see, the waitress certainly hadn't. Richard inwardly shrugged. Besides, this Yue woman did look pretty tough, and he contemplated saying so but her flustered response to the other guy gave him the impression that maybe he should respond with more tact and consideration.

"Exercise is good for the body, mind, and spirit they say. Whatever it is you're teaching, I'm sure your students appreciate it, and probably get as much out of it as you do." Richard gave a kind smile and understanding nod to Ichiro and Yue.

Richard took a few more bites of food and a sip of orange juice while the door to the Diner opened again. He had contemplated what the real deal was with Ichiro and Yue, and the other people in here. Seemed all to be quite odd, but he tried to ignore it. The sound of those loud feet touching down on the floor was quite distracting however on its own, but Richard felt the need to maybe offer a little bit more small talk to ease Yue and Ichiro's minds. And maybe learn a little more about them.


A tall, looming figure behind the group placed a hand down on a shoulder. Yue's. Before anyone said anything the counter had shuddered, knocking over Richard's food and drink, as Yue was hoisted from her seat, and flung across the room behind them. Her body briefly passed in front of Henry as she crashed through the window next to him and toppled out into the street.

Richard had bolted up from his seat just in time to turn around and watch a hulking mass of a man leave the Diner. He was at least 7 and a half feet tall, decked out in a long, black leather trench coat, and wearing a... A Puritanical hat. The same garb as the Witchfinder Generals. Outside stood 25 more of them, all lined up in the street, effectively building a wall that kept Yue and the diner barricaded.

__________________________________________________________________


"YUE BAYUSHI! YOU DEGENERATE FILTH! DEMONESS! PERVERSION OF NATURE! YOU STAND ACCUSED OF CRIMES AGAINST THE WITCHFINDERS! THERE SHALL BE NO TRIAL FOR YOU, YOUR GUILT SPEAKS FOR ITSELF." One of the men seemed to roar at the woman.

The others were all dressed quite similarly to each other, but some held guns, while others seemed to be injecting something into their necks... Within a few moments, those who had taken the injections began to wield new powers, but only two types, no other variety. Some of the men seemed to be wielding fire, and the others some kind of pale sand or something.

It was salt. The Witchfinder Generals were particular about their powers, so they bought these from one source and one source only, possibly located somewhere in Asia. The fire was a straightforward enough power, but the salt? It could be wielded as though it were a sand storm, a storm that could rip skin open and burn the flesh beneath. Some had even suggested the power could turn the enemies of the Witchfinders into salt, their bodies burning in agony as they slowly morphed into the substance.

__________________________________________________________________


Looked over to Ichiro for a moment, then the others. The girl still seemed like she hadn't moved at all. Richard dropped to the the ground by the booth Henry sat at, pulling Ichiro with him, and using the seat as cover. He waved to the other patrons to get down and away from the windows. Richard quickly scrambled through his pockets as he pulled something out and started to put it on his head.

"Pardon me Ichiro, but I have to break a few laws quickly." He pulled down his balaclava over his face, and pulled off his jacket to reveal the shoulder holster under it, equipped with two pistols. Richard pulled both out, donning one in each hand. "Any chance I can give Yue a little cover?" He asked Ichiro, who he hoped might have a better angle for a view outside.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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Wish. Granted.

She was about to turn and reply to Richard when she felt, more than heard a presence behind her. A huge, meaty hand clasped down on her shoulder, and she scrabbled quickly for her phone but she only manged to knock it clattering to the floor along with her half finished plate of pancakes before she was hurled across the diner. She barely managed to cover her face with her arms as she crashed through the window and landed sprawling on the pavement outside. Yue exhaled slowly, her ears ringing as they shouted at her, her body alight with that vibrating numbness she'd come to associate with pain.

The Witchfinder leader barely had enough time to finish his declaration. Yue had sprung to her feet and charged the line with terrible swiftness, her burgundy eyes flashing red for one fraction of a second. Several panicked gouts of flame and salt winged past her as she drove her fist into his solar plexus. Yue felt the man's rib cage crunch under the impact as he was lifted bodily off the ground and thrown into a heap on the pavement. It wasn't more than a second or two, but the sheer savagery of her retaliation stunned the mob into hesitation. Just long enough for her to gather her thoughts.

"Help me get the customers out of danger first, they're focused on her! Yue can handle herself, Mackenzie-Sama," Ichiro replied, hand shaking as he lifted his phone to his ear. "Yes, twenty or so assailants attacked us over at Atomic Anne's Diner... Ichiro Bayushi. Yeah, oh! Send at least one ambulance: they spilled my sister's coffee. Yeah I'll stay on the line," he said, speaking to the emergency operator with practiced coolness. He was tense, clearly fighting the urge to rush in and help, but remaining in control of his breathing.

It wasn't a good situation for her: there were far too many to fight without her powers, but she couldn't risk her identity. The problem was that her powers were not subtle, and using them for even one second would reveal her identity to anyone with passing knowledge of regional supers... not that it seemed to matter as the Witchfinders were able to track her down and identify her by name. Was it too much to hope that knowledge had been isolated to her last encounter with them?

"B-BITCH!" One of them recovered faster than she thought, and there was suddenly a gun brought to bear on her. Yue darted towards him, bringing her left hand around and slamming the knife edge of her palm into his wrist feeling the bone crack. The gun went off in her ear, and she felt a stinging line stretch from her elbow to the back of her shoulder. Hopefully just a graze. She thrust her palm into his chest with a hollow thud, knocking him to the ground and sending the pistol skittering. She didn't stop moving, driving one heel into his groin as he hit pavement and the other into his face, literally running over him to barrel into the man behind him and knock him sprawling into his comrades.

They were starting to recover and get organized again, but hopefully she had caused enough chaos and disarray in their ranks to buy time for people to get to safety. Yue sprinted across the street, sliding over the hood of a car. She grunted as she caught a spray of salt in her side, and rolled into a small alley between two shops. She slid around a corner as bullets started to whip past, biting into the bricks, spraying dust and shards into her face. Hopefully she could lose some of them in the park, and scatter enough of them to fight on more even grounds.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape) Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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Sheri cursed at herself as she fiddled with the hinges on the back door, finagling them in such a way that they wouldn’t open if the target tried to come through here. It took several minutes of effort as she considered, attempted, and then reattempted several different solutions that wouldn’t be easily seen or removed before the man got here. The cook passed by twice, giving her a funny look the first time, but she just said ”Maintenance!” with the best fake smile she could manage and he immediately lost interest in her presence.
She’d got it just about into a state she was satisfied with when there was a sound of glass shattering at the front of the diner, followed by the sound of shouting. Her first thought was to slip out the back if there was trouble here... only to be reminded she’d just jammed the door shut when she tried to open it. ”Shit.”
She turned and slipped back toward the front. She quickly stepped to the side as staff and a handful of customers fled back into the kitchen; she decided not to mention there was no escape this way. They’d figure it out. She turned to look back up front, only to see a crowd of goddamn Witchfinders gathered outside, in a fistfight with the woman who’s been at the counter, and someone else she couldn’t see. Three of the men who’d been in the diner were also still here - two taking shelter behind the bar (was one of them wearing a balaclava mask? In 2045? What is this, the IRA?) and the third looked like he was about to go join the fight outside. Good for him, Sheri thought. Buy me more of a distraction. Oh, and her double was still in the booth. That was kinda funny. She dismissed it, and it dissolved in a burst of static.
It was a shame this job would turn out to be a bust, though, she thought to herself as she slipped around the counter toward the door. After all, it wasn’t as if Mr. Alan Kingsley would be stopping by for his coffee after… after… She froze where she was standing, within arms reach of the balaclava man, as her eyes fell on someone through the window, at the other side of the park.
Her fucking target.
She threw herself around the counter, jumped onto a booth table and tumbled out of the window, before breaking into a dead sprint through the meleeing crowd. Her hand flew to the PPK tucked into the back of her jeans under her coat, her fingers wrapping around the top of the grip with her forefinger resting along the length of the barrel. One of the Witchfinder’s spotted her as she dropped her stealth, and she ducked under his arm as he reached for her, putting her gun in his face and channeling a stunning nerve blast through the handgun at point-blank range without ever turning her eyes to him.
Sheri folded herself nearly in half as she vaulted over some mutated monster a mere instant after it tackled two more Witchfinders to the ground (Where the fuck did that come from? Am I gonna have to deal with that?) and then she was across the street, boots pounding over the grass as she made a beeline for Alan Kingsley. He spotted her, and as he turned to run her eyes flashed a brighter shade of green and two exact duplicates of herself appeared 20 yards ahead, following one very simple command: catch the target.
Alan bolted, adrenaline making this otherwise out of shape man move faster than he ever had in his life. Sheri dismissed her clones, then summoned two more further ahead, gaining ground with her doubles until they were practically on either side of him.
”Leave me alone!” he wailed, struggling for breath. He stumbled and fell as he reached the street, rolled, then was back up, sprinting left. Sheri stopped and fired another nerve blast through the handgun, hitting Alan in the back of the knee. He fell a second time as his entire leg suddenly went dead, cracking his chin on the asphalt. ”Please,” he wheezed. ”Please don’t hurt me.”
Sheri walked over, stuffing her gun back in her pants and dismissing her duplicates. She pulled a thin voice recorder out of her pocket, then lifted Alan up slightly by the back of his shirt, kneeling down to look in his face. ”You’re Alan Kingsley?”
”W-what?”
”I need you to confirm,” she said, clicking ‘record’. ”Are you Alan Kingsley?”
”Y-yes,” he answered. He was starting to cry. Gross.
Sheri dropped him, then clicked play on the recorder to confirm she’d gotten his official confirmation.
Nothing happened.
Click. Click click. Clickclickclickclickclickclickclick- she through the recorder on the ground, and it bounced and skidded into the gutter. ”God damn it!!”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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It was rather amusing to watch her stumble around trying to find the words, like a tall vase only a light tap had been enough to throw her off balance. Her brother on the other hand did not seem phased in the slightest, rather he seemed very excited then again given his previous behavior he seemed to be of the excitable and enthusiastic kind. At the very least one with significant knowledge of muscular structures, which makes perfect sense in a way given his claimed profession. The other guy gave a considerate response, but he couldn't shake the fleeting feeling that there was an underlying message to it that he just didn't quite get.

He had considered making a response of his own, but seeing he kind of had his mouth full of sweet blueberry goodness and a rather imposing figure made his acquaintance with the girl, a rather physical one. Devon jumped up from his seat narrowly avoiding the hot coffee's sloshing from staining his pants only to leap over the counter a second later as he heard the sound of a large piece of glass shattering behind him. He looked around to see how the quint diner had just turned into a battlefield, Mackenzie had pulled Ichiro towards the booth where the man with the newspaper had sprung into action as well. The others all seemed to either have huddled beneath some cover or having made a mad dash to the kitchen, like any other place it'd probably have a backdoor at the very least to avoid bringing the ingredients through the customer section of the diner. Outside it seemed a group of witchfinders had gathered up to assail Yue, though from the glimpses he managed to catch of it she seemed to hold on quite well given the situation popping some moves that didn't gel with his mental image of fundamental Tai Chi.

Not that whether she was telling the truth was of any importance at this moment, as Ichiro had said she was holding her own for now and seemed to have some assistance joining the fray, they needed to get the others to safety first. Running into the kitchen he found himself faced with the kitchen staff unable to open the backdoor. Fuck... Inward hinges, those aren't going to bust from a little ramming attempt. "Stand back!" He yelled assertively as he grabbed one of the guns from his coat. A bullet directly applied to each hinge ensured the hinge pins were shattered beyond function and a forceful kick to the hinged side of the door later left a doorframe damaged and a door ejected from it into the alley behind the diner, leaving a safe exit route for the customers and staff.

From the sound of things Yue was pulling the fight through the park, away from their kitchen extraction route. As far as he recalled there were no big obstructions in or directly around the park, if only he could... Bingo, fire escape a reachable one. He jumped up on a dumpster (shouldn't those be some distance away to prevent just what he was about to do?) to a small ledge next to the fire escape and jumped up to the railing of the fire escape. Clambering over the railing and up the set of ladders he rushed his way up to the roof with a mixed grace of a cat by looks and Thor the god of thunder by sound.

Once on the roof he walked towards the edge where the sounds of battle came from, no raised ledge unfortunate, but fortunately a good view of what was happening on the streets below. It seemed the Witchfinders found themselves assailed by some kind of beast and something even more monstrous near the diner, the latter making carnage enough to turn those of lesser constitution vegan for the remainder of their lives. A bit further away a group of them were running towards an alley guns and abilities blazing, that would be where Yue had gone. Devon looked around a bit to see if he could get to a better position to cover that alley, no luck. At best there was the option to cross over two more buildings to get an angle on the street on the other side of that alley, but anything that'd allow him visibility into that alley would require jumping some rather wide gaps.

Not quite desiring to lower himself to the degree the assailants had he made the decision to avoid using anything too lethal... for now. As such he aimed a bit away from the group near the alley allowing his projectiles to home in on their targets and giving the Witchfinders the idea of being surrounded by gunmen on all sides with the hopes of causing a sufficient distraction while he made his way to a vantage spot for the other side of the alley, to provide a more accurate fire support for Yue when she exits the alley. He unloaded a mixture of bullets aimed at disabling them, destroying guns, breaking hands, putting bullets through calves and restraining one in the sticky mess that was structural fire foam.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape) Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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Laying on the pavement, coughing up globs of blood, the head Witchfinder started to barely stir and regain his senses, just in time to witness several of his men being attacked by terrifying looking beasts, monsters, demons.

"Th-the demon- *HACK* The Demoness! She brings her servants with her! Destroy them! SEND THOSE UNNATURAL CREATURES TO PERDITION!" He cried out.

__________________________________________________________________



Richard saw the larger man at the booth bolt out of his seat and over the diner counter, calling out to him to help deal with the Witchfinders, and to... Rob the place later? He was confused for a moment, then it occurred to him not only what he wore, but what he had said moments before. Ichiro's words broke through Richard's moment of embarrassment, focus on getting the civilians out of here. The short girl from earlier appeared to have entered the diner again from out of the kitchen, and before anyone could say or do anything, she bolted out and towards the park? And the guy who had been at the counter with them had gone into the kitchen, and several of the staff had gone with him, only a few others remained pinned down in here.

Ichiro had been on his phone a few moments, and it became clear that Ichiro wasn't just a therapist. Sounded a lot like he was some kind of cop. Not great for Richard. Giving a slight nod to Ichiro, Richard began to assume a crouching position as he got ready to take action. "Oh and Ichiro, I ah... I'm not a burglar or anything like that... I ah... I'm in witness protection..." He feebly lied. Once he felt he'd attempted his best possible subterfuge in the moment, he raised a hand towards the shattered window, and to the others. After a few moments, a faint frost began to appear, and where the shattered window had stood with a hole in it, it now was becoming a full sheet of ice.

The ice was too crystalline to see through, and caused the room to dim slightly. Richard quickly ran over to some of the other staff and guests, quickly trying to usher them into the kitchen, where the guy from the counter had seemingly gotten the back door opened. "Alright, get out of here as quick as you can! Stay low, stick to the back alleys, and get into some kind of building! You need to take cover!"

He looked back to Ichiro now, nodding his head to the kitchen. "You need to go too, unless you're able to help out here." Richard raised both pistols to the opaque windows now as the power went off, some kind of shriek emanating from the street out there.

One more thing to worry about.

As some of the Witchfinders tried to chase down Yue, others tried to get a handle on the situation with Jericho and Sasha outside. Richard had noticed the man from the booth was now holding some kind of glowing gun, a laser gun? Weird, but he'd roll with it. "Hey! Aim for the shadows with tall hats!" He called out to Henry. A steady stream of bullets began making their way down from the rooftops, and soon after another hail of them exploded from the windows of the diner. Richard had begun to open fire through the glass, shattering the pane that had previously stayed in tact.

Three Witchfinders were grazed or hit, scrambling to take cover or falling to the ground as Richard opened up on them. One tried to crawl away from the gunfire and Jericho, but before he could make it far his hand landed in a pool of blood that quickly froze solid around his hand.

His screams of terror echoed across the street as his doom became sealed with that hand.


__________________________________________________________________


Maxwell felt himself tense as gunfire and violence exploded on the street next to the park. "That is... Problematic." He muttered. Just as he finished, the girl who had been called 'Jemma' disappeared and turned into some horrific monster, the likes of which Maxwell had never imagined. As the creature bounded off into the fight, he couldn't help but cock an eyebrow. "And that is... Rather interesting." He mused, almost a tiny bit pleased. He'd just witnessed something he was now quite interested in getting a better understanding of...

That brief pleasure was fast cut short however. Mr. Kingsley was outside the park. Running. With a girl chasing him. Maxwell's eyes narrowed as he chewed his lip. "This day has been full of surprises. Some more pleasant than others." He quickly gave a nod to Scarlet and Alex. "I'm terribly sorry, but you'll have to excuse me. This mess may have just put a client of mine in grave danger, and I must go help him. Mr. Alex, Miss Scarlet, it has been a pleasure." He gave them both a kind, warm smile, a slight bow, and turned to go find Kingsley...


__________________________________________________________________


Not long later, the silver haired man found Kingsley on the ground, and a shorter girl standing over him, likely a super.

"Excuse me Miss, but can I help you?" He asked in a light tone.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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Alexander Dalton

Maxwell came off as formal as he looked, though the air around him was giving Alex a sort of hair raising feeling that he couldn't quite place. Guy must be rich and powerful or something like that. Always came off as some sort of different breed, that's the difference in social classes for you. Scarlet on the other hand came off a lot more chill and casual, definitely more his kind of person. Unfortunately Alex never got the chance to really start talking due to the sudden sound of crashing and gunfire.
Alex's head snapped towards the general direction right as the screaming started. Shit, that sounds really bad. And only getting worse by the second. Sure enough, as if on cue, Jericho had exploded into a writhing and screaming mound of flesh. Dashing off towards the growing chaos just as their form settled, followed by the sound of electronics frying themselves.
Alex quickly fumbled for his phone on reflex and almost swore at the burnt out screen. He had just gotten that thing replaced after last time. Throwing it to the ground with an annoyed groan, He had a moment to notice he and Scarlet had been left behind by Maxwell during his small fit of annoyance.

He looked down at Scarlet as he pulled his hoodie on and zipped it up. "Hey so, I would explain but I gotta go after my roommate . . . the thing that was that girl just now, and try and keep them from going totally ape shit. Just, please don't tell anybody what you just saw. I gotta go. Now."

With that, the threw his hood up, he turned on his heel and bolted off. Alex only began to pick up his speed after getting a good distance away from "Scarlet". His feet tore into the ground as he ran well past the speed of any normal human. Alex ran a hand across his face and let his force fields shape over his head and effectively obscure his face under his hood while still allowing him to see. other plates and panels of simplistic, glowing blue armor rippled into existence around the rest of Alex's body until he looked like some form of ethereal knight.
Finding Jericho wasn't hard. Alex almost slowed down at the scene before him. The entire vicinity of the diner, inside and out, was in complete pandemonium. All of it seemed to stem from the strange and similarly dressed men Jericho and others appeared to be fighting off. Well . . . Jericho was more so having an early lunch rather then try and fend off the screaming men. All of which were screaming out of either fanaticism or terror. Alex took little time to contemplate who these people were as one of the man's hands erupted into flames which were soon pointed in the direction of Alex's friend. Fuck. That.

Alex ran full tilt towards the man. "Over here Asshole!" The flaming man only had a moment to turn and register what was happening before a quarter ton of armored superhuman crashed into him with the force of a speeding truck. The shoulder charge sent the Witchfinder flying, landing with a a loud thud. Satisfied with the results, Alex didn't hesitate to charge his way towards the next man in similar garb wielding an automatic weapon before giving him a swift kick between the legs. The civilians the man had been terrorizing before winced reflexively as the witchfinder dropped to his knees, his voice i soft and high pitched scream of intense pain. Alex turned to place his body between the civilians and the battle. "Get to safety, now!" it didn't take any more convincing before he heard people scrambling away. Good, he really wasn't wanting to have to keep an eye on paralyzed innocent bystanders when he had to keep . . . that in check.
Alex made a few steps towards Jericho. "Hey big guy! You still in there?" He tensed and swallowed hard as his eyes and hands flared with blue energy. Anticipating he he was going to have to bubble his friend any moment. he never liked having to do this, but he had to help keep Jericho under control.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi
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"Yareyareda ze (good grief)," muttered Ichiro as his phone cut out suddenly. He tried in vain to get it to turn back on for a few moments and then shoved it in his pocket, taking a quick moment to collect Yue's phone from the ground to see if it was working. "Nope, do your thing Mackenzie-sama. If I got mixed up in what's going on outside One-chan would have my hide, I'll help keep the other non-combatants out of danger," Ichiro replied, glossing over the "witness protection" comment and giving him a light slap on the back. At that same moment he silently and deftly slipped a card into one of Richard's coat pocket: a plain white thing with Ichiro's name printed on it along with his phone number scrawled hastily across the back. Afterwards he slipped out through the kitchen during one of the brief pauses in gunfire.

Yue had taken cover behind a large tree near the edge of the park when she'd heard the chaos erupting back at the street. She also didn't want to draw any breakaways too far into the park to avoid endangering any civilians that might be there. She took a quick moment to peek out and see how many had followed and was surprised to see she was receiving support from someone on a rooftop back by the diner. Of the small group that had broken off to chase her, most were disarmed, with a couple on the ground holding their legs and one entangled in... riot foam?

Of course she couldn't pass up a gift opportunity like this. Yue bolted from cover, charging the one closest to her. He had his back turned to her, and did not spin around in time even though she heard "Oh fuck!" shouted from one of the other Witchfinders. Yue jumped, using her momentum to kick in the back of his knee, her opposite knee cocked to her chest. As he started to fall back she drove her heel into the back of his head and rode him straight to the ground, rolling with the momentum to avoid falling. The second was only two lunging steps away and simultaneously received crushing palm strikes to his chest and gut, knocking him sprawling into the foam.

The last two that were standing were on either side of her, and she had to take a step back to avoid a fist. Yue caught his wrist with one hand, swiveling on her heel and driving the palm of her free hand into the back of his head. His shoulder gave a satisfying pop as it twisted out of its socket causing him to scream as she knocked him to the ground and had to dive out of the way of a screeching gout of flame. She felt the heat on her back as she rolled into a sprint, keeping her head low and circling around, each step driving her closer. Finally she juked under a second blast, feeling the flames catch her right arm. She ignored it, driving her fist straight into his face, taking two large steps past him, brute forcing him off his feet and crushing him straight into the pavement.

Yue exhaled slowly as she rose up. She didn't have any restraints, but she knew someone watching who did. Yue dragged them two at a time into a pile visible from the rooftop Devon was standing on. When she was done she tapped her wrists together in his direction and pointed at the pile to signal that he should foam them.

The chaos wasn't over though, she could still hear it boiling over in front of the diner. She knew this was the perfect opportunity to escape, but she hesitated for an excruciatingly long moment. At the very least she couldn't leave while Ichiro might still be in danger, so she started running... back towards the diner. She vaulted up a dumpster in the alley, using her momentum to run up the wall a few steps and then leap to the opposite ledge, which she used to pull herself to the rooftop with practiced ease. The ledge overlooking the street was only a few steps away where she perched in the shadow of an air conditioning unit, crouched like a predator surveying its next kill.

Seeing Cannonade on the scene brought a frown to her lips... they were the embodiment of everything she disliked about "professional" heroes. Though Cannon's presence should be enough to mop up the rest of the Witchfinders without her having to intervene. The more concerning problem was the out of control monster on the street. Someone wearing a hoodie seemed to be trying to calm it down... regardless she couldn't just let it run wild with her brother nearby.

Yue took a deep breath, preparing herself for the backlash of what she was about to do...

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape) Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Cannonade
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"SON OF A BITCH!"

Vic went from covering her ears to protect them from the horrid, cicada like screeching to tearing the popping earphones away from them in a flash. She snatched the phone from her pocket, eyes darting between its dead, dark screen and the screaming flesh alien, and clicked the buttons on the side of the screen to no avail. "Hey-!" Her head jerked back up to Jemma, eyes blazing with fury, but the thing was already bolting towards the action. She shook her head and glared at the sky, trying to look for the angel above who'd just let this happen to her. "Fucking shapeshifters," she exasperated. With the same tone of somebody who had just been cut off in traffic.

Business man left, calmer than the average citizen fleeing the park for safety. Tall glass of water took his leave, too, running towards the danger zone. Vic was left behind with no music to drown out the melodic lure of bones cracking and gargled screams in a superpowered smackdown. She sucked in her cheeks, crunching down on them with her molars, dropped her skateboard on the ground, then mounted and rolled the other way.

Hey, she was a rockstar, not a hero.

She had a reputation to keep, sure, a controversial one, but not one where she was labeled an active vigilante. That would be a little too much for her agency to tolerate. Or the law. And it wasn't like she could just stand by and watch the show, either. @Vicki Vortex, is this you watching a terrorist attack and doing nothing?! Yeah, piss off.

Besides, these things got out of hand, fast. Especially in a place like Atlas City where the super per square mile ratio was way out of wack. Think punching a person in GTA and how quick that escalates. Somebody was gonna die. That was pretty much what she thought she could hear going on back there, and if she was being honest with herself...

... it sounded awesome.

Nobody can see your face, anyway.

She didn't think about it as her skateboard lifted up from the pavement and she changed her course. She came soaring quietly over the scene, hands in pockets, like an unenthusiastic Silver Surfer with bad posture. The chaos was even better than it sounded from the park and had its own celebrity guest star. A streak of red hair slipped from being stuffed in her cap, but she didn't think about it. She was fixated on the monster tearing through Witchfinders like they were gore filled pinatas. She didn't take the time to figure out whose side anyone was on. Frankly, she didn't give a damn.

Out of nowhere, a Witchfinder found themselves knocked to the ground by the blow from a heaven sent skateboard to the back of the head. Vic plummeted down from the sky, hand gripping the skateboard's front. As the Witchfinder fell forward, she followed, her wheels grinding their skull against the pavement. She hopped off, snatched her skateboard back up, and turned around as her fallen victim lifted their salt-crusted hand towards her, to deliver one, two, three, four - an exorbitant amount of bashes to the head. If anyone looked now, they'd see a random civilian who'd wandered onto a superhero movie set and was giving it their damn best - bloody - shot.

Witchfinder out cold, she shook the blood from her board, rested it on her shoulder and turned back to the monster. Then gave a little flick of her fingers.

Superhero and Van Helsing wannabe alike suddenly had a wall of air shove them aside, thick enough to feel like a solid force. She cleaved a straight line through the battle - a path straight to the monster. She immediately drew her busted phone from her pocket and ditched it at it. It bounced harmlessly off its hide, but got its attention.

"Hey, creature feature," Vic murmured under her breath, glaring down at it with undeniable murderous intent. "You shouldn't have cut off Bob Weir." Her grip on her skateboard tightened as she prepared to launch herself at him. "Or been the biggest motherfucker at this joint."

Jericho turned, focus locking on a new target; through the blur of combat haze, irritation and excitement built into a roar. The sound of a lion’s deafening call, mixed with the warbling shriek of an elk underwater, and undercut by keening tone that warbled glass and eardrum alike.

Vic's heart leapt as the land shark charged her. It was a non-too-regular reminder that it was still there. Regardless, she ran right for it, taking the skateboard off her shoulder. She pushed it along the ground, letting it run ahead of her and through the creature's legs, as its reach breached just a mere several meters from her. Five. Tw- Without a sound, she was gone. Particles exploded out, then faded into nothing. A gentle breeze wafted past Jericho's face.

Whomp.

Vic materialized behind them, feet plonking down on the skateboard. She skidded around, raised two fingers, and mimicked a little "Pow!" of a gun. The creature was pushed forward by the world's strongest air cannon - that was restraining itself. Just a little puff, enough to stumble it. An adrenaline-spiked grin flashed across her face, hidden by her medical mask.

Man... it had been way too long since the last time she'd nearly died.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Cannonade
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Jericho had paused at the sound of Alex's voice, had begun turning to locate the massive man who they called a friend, their very first friend. The stench of super powered individuals was overwhelming. It stank like rot, like flesh and meat and hunger.
It stank like glorious power, sweet glorious satisfaction, like a purpose meant to be completed! They would have their carve! But. Alex would be disappointed, perhaps even angry, and survival would be in jeopardy if Jericho kept going the way they were. They had to calm down, they had to back away from the fight, return to hiding! They-

Something clattered off their haunch, the scent of wind-scraped plains, of dust and gale, caught their attention. The air shoved Alex out and away from Jericho, shoved the prey that surrounded the Polymorph away.
The fog descended, and Jericho gave in to their instincts for battle, for the hunt.

There was a brief black-out moment, where J-3 would not remember even moving to attack Scarlet, where it wouldn't remember having its' haunch shoved by a wall of wind that threatened to topple it over. The meat of J-3 would remember turning, flinging a cadaver at 'Scarlet' and rushing her right after the corpse flew through the air.
It would remember cleaving a path through meat that stood in its' way, ripping a witchfinder in twain with brutal efficiency, sending the halves scattering their contents to the ground as they continued with single-minded determination.
It would remember watching Scarlet blocking and deflecting the corpse of a witchfinder with her skateboard, would remember leaping up, spinning about midair, and flexing its long tail.
The length of meat and metal split apart like a horrifying flower. A multitude of eight thinner but no less armored, lined with iron 'fangs', tentacles spread out.
The tendrils swept through the air like whips, and the first three to come into contact with Scarlet's board tore it in half. Another lashed forward as J-3 landed, spearing through the air with the intent to harpoon and kill.
She disengaged her ‘shield’, holding each skateboard piece by the truck like she was about to start dual wielding them, and ducked. Far too slow. Half her face began to melt away as the tendril shot through it, particles floating up into the sky, but she felt the sting. When the tendril whipped away, and she regained a full solid form, her hat had been knocked off and there was a thick, red gash on her forehead, spilling blood down her face and soaking into her mask.

J-3 Unleashed another roar, their chest ballooning outward and swelling with silver-black ink. The sound was that much louder, like a blast of thunder and animal-fury. The noise was a grating bellow mixed with the chittering whine of an insect, the screaming caw of some parrot-like bird supplemented it all. They shook the ground with the force of it, completely lost to the shift and shake of combat. They spun about, swirling on one armored hind leg, as their limbs lashed out at everything nearby. Another Witchfinder lost an arm, the one who ran to avenge her comrade found her face slashed by a clawed hand that spared no mercy or care for her existence.
Meanwhile, across from the whirling dervish, a certain someone thought to themselves.
Christ, that was a big set of lungs. Would be a shame if somebody-
Scarlet flipped her hood back on and punched forward, air cannon engaged. And concentrated. It blasted the creature, and the sickening noise of ribs turning inward cracked over the conflict. The creature’s chest caved in as it was blown back, the air forced out of its lungs. Vic gladly held onto that. And didn’t return it.

J-3 was thrown back, chest caved inward and starved of air. It locked its' gaze on Scarlet, still blinded to reasoning by the thrill and excitement of the hunt. It stood a solid fifteen or more feet away from Scarlet now. The tails on its hindquarters flicked, and lashed forward with an abrupt speed that left them blurs to the naked- or non super eye. Ink swirled on the tips of the tails as they moved, quills of bone and barb forming and soaring through the air between the two combatants. Four sank into the flesh of Scarlet's left shoulder, right and left forearms, and one just barely scraped by her hip as she once again 'POOFED' to avoid the worst of it.
J-3 thrashed for a moment longer, before shuddering and staggering side to side, desperate for oxygen.
The middle of a roar was no time to have the air stolen from you. Asphyxiation was a bitch.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Cannonade
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What unfolded in front of Devon's eyes was nothing short of a scene from a martial arts movie as Yue made short work of the ones left standing after his barrage, though a part of the fight had happened outside of his sight including the last of one standing of the assailants. All he had been able to see of him were the flames he attacked with, not even enough to attempt suppressing fire on his location, who knows what or who else it might hit. Combined with the fast pace and close quarters nature of the fight he hadn't been able to add any covering fire aside from that initial strike.

It took him a couple more moments than he would honestly like to admit to realize what Yue's plan was with moving the disabled crooks into a pile in his line of sight, in fact it took until Yue directly signed to him what she wanted. She wanted him to foam the crooks, though he couldn't quite imagine how one were to get up after sustaining the types of injuries that the both of them dished out. That being said, better safe than sorry. He said as he covered the bunch in foam taking the time to make sure none of their heads got covered by it.

By the time he was done covering the pile of Witchfinders in foam, and turning them in an abstract art piece of tangled limbs, heads and sticky goop, Devon noticed that he now was sharing the rooftop view with his impromptu ally. She was overlooking the area to the front of the diner, to which he had pretty horrible overview from his current perch. Which meant running back over the roof to his original position, to the roof without a raised ledge. At least the fighting should still be relatively close to the diner, which should allow him to get close to that edge without being spotted.

Taking his first peek over the ledge he noticed the familiar face, or rather helmet, of the loose cannon that called themselves a hero. In property damages alone they were nothing more than a walking disaster zone. Another two additions among the chaos had taken their aim at the monstrosity, one of them being a... teleporter? No, that didn't seem quite right, especially after the creatures roar was halted in the middle of it and he seemed to be struggling with some invisible ailment, was it suffocating? Whatever the reality was it seemed they weren't allied to the Witchfinders, given the few that he'd just prevented from performing a sneak attack from behind with a few more well placed shots. Rather they seemed intent on stopping the monstrosity's rampage.

He crouched into a position close to the edge popping up the collar of the trenchcoat and making sure it covered as much of his face as possible without covering his eyes. How he'd love to go in guns blazing, but without proper face protection and gloves that was just asking for injuries or death. Still he'd at least give as much covering fire as possible form his position to those fighting below.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Cannonade
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Chaos erupted on the streets of Atlas City. Witchfinders getting attacked by supers from all angles. Burglars with mastery over cold, fighters with superhuman strength, a reckless super crashing through the sky, uh...foam? And then there was that creature...After the Witchfinders, whatever that thing was, was his biggest concern at the moment. It seemed to have turned it's attentions from the Witchfinders to some woman. Perhaps she was a super too? Another super jumped in to provide assistance.

Ugh, this wasn't what he was here for. Stupid, stupid decision for him to return to Atlas City. But he had to. He raised his blaster, using the counter as cover and aimed his shots at the Witchfinders. They were the biggest threat to the populace at the moment. The creature could perhaps wait. And maybe be dealt with. He didn't quite get the feeling that it was something that would require him to step up just yet.

He slapped the side of the blaster once, giving it a blue sheen. Stun would do for now. No point in killing the Witchfinders when he could leave as many alive as they can for someone to question. He fired several shots at any Witchfinders left unengaged, hoping to temporarily neutralize them before they did any further damage to the city's denizens, utilizing the counter as cover should they try and fire something back.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Klaus Zeit Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Cannonade
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Thursday, 24th September 2̴̼̙͓͔̫͎̑̾ͅ3̸̛̦̣̙̫̺͇̮̭̹̤̫̮͉̳̌̿̐͒͒͂͜ͅ5̷̡̩̺̜͈̼̙̣͈͓͔̰̘̫̯͗̄͠7̸͓̝̬̱͋̍͊̀̐͌̅̅̓̂̉͒̑̚͘̕ 14:20pm GMT


Oxford University, Oxford England


“And you’re sure about this?” Klaus quirried, his eyes darting over the strange wrist-mounted device before him, taking in every detail of its sleek design. The glass and steel gadget before him hummed to life with a blue glow.

“Absolutely, my friend,” With this we can experience all of history,” The wide-eyed scientist began as he eagerly strapped the device to his wrist before reaching for Klaus’s hesitant arm, “We can watch as the Great Pyramids rise and while Rome burns. Experience the birth and death of those who have shaped the modern world, experience the first democratic vote in Athans, the sky's the limit! Anywhere within time is ours to explore!”

Klaus smiled as the tech was applied to his wrist, “Well, I’m all for adventure.”

“That’s the spirit! I knew you were the right man to tell about this! My students you see, they haven’t been made aware of this experiment yet, my TA has been covering my lectures ever since I had a breakthrough,” He stopped for a moment, quickly looking at his datapad, “here we are, this should be good!”

Klaus watched his colleagues' fingers dance across the small display on the device, the words “Chrono Dialer” appearing before being replaced with four input fields: Date, X:, Y:, Z:. Implying they worked by inputting the desired day one wished to travel to as well as the geographical coordinates. Klaus understood the real technology must be housed under the glass display, and the inner workings were a complete mystery to him, though he could see many charts and notes strewn about the lab, all of which made no sense to him, yet.

“Here, yours is ready,” the scientist eagerly handed him the Chrono Dialer before strapping a second to his own wrist. With a smile and nod to encourage Klaus to do the same.

“We stand at the forefront of a revolution my friend, those novels you teach your classes will simply cease to be fiction, and become reality. The possibilities are endless!” with that he gripped Klaus’ wrist, clicking a button seamlessly built into the side of the Chrono Dialer before clicking his own.

A flash of light and a rushing sense of nausea replaced the world as Kalus lost all semblance of reality.

11th March 2045 Mid-Morning EST


A flash of light erupted in front of Atomic Anne’s diner and from the light a figure appeared on the sidewalk amidst all the chaos going on around the sleekly suited super. Static sparked against his suit as the pressure around him normalized. In a flash he began tossing small disks that then attached themselves to the various WitchFinders, slowing their movements as they became out of step with time.

The other Supers would notice their enemy's reaction times were seemingly non-existent, their trigger fingers slow on the draw, their fire, and salt extinguishing, and crashing to the pavement below as the concentration needed to maintain their power and that power was no longer in step.

A final disk would attach itself to Jericho, slowing the out of control shapeshifter enough for Alexander to apply some pressure. Of course, the effect of the disk on a creature like Jericho wouldn’t last long as its biology would destroy the foreign invader with ease, but against a shape-shifter, every second counted.

With disks dispersed and time shuttering for the WitchFinders, The Cobalt Clock got to work, his fist collided with the face of a WitchFinder stuck with an expression of disbelief at his appearance. The contact between the two rendered the timeshift moot as he crumpled to the sidewalk, Cobalt securing the disk from his coat as he fell.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Klaus Zeit Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Cannonade
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Yue rose to her feet, clenching her fists. It was going to be now or never, she had to step in and stop that shifting mass before more people got hurt. She inhaled sharply, her eyes flashing red.

Ginr- The creature was gone. One single spark of crimson energy escaped her chest and spiraled down her right arm before vanishing. Her eyes darted about the battlefield until she found it again fighting... Vicki Vortex? Yue ran along the rooftops to follow the fight, jumping across the gaps where necessary just in case she still needed to intervene. Vicki's aerokinesis was the primary reason Yue had tech install a backup respirator into her armor, and Ichiro had so much Vicki Vortex merchandise that there was no way Yue wouldn't recognize her when the hood came off.

Yue crouched back down on the ledge to observe, although she came halfway to her feet when the large man blasted Cannonade away with some sort of force, telekinesis she guessed. One of the combatants that had come to help went to check on them and Yue settled down a second time, seeing the large one wrestle the creature into a dome of sorts. At least it was contained for the time being. She exhaled slowly.

"Nante fuyukai (How unpleasant)," she muttered, scanning the rooftops briefly to locate Devon and then surveying the battlefield. She didn't find Ichiro in the fray which was a relief. He was probably helping civilians get out of danger and treating anyone with injuries. Most of the Witchfinders had either been incapacitated or killed, and it looked like the fight was winding down. That uneasy feeling hadn't gone away though, and she couldn't help but think she was missing something important.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape) Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Klaus Zeit Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Cannonade
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The leader of the Witchfinder General hit squad coughed out yet more blood, his vision becoming hazy as he laid on the ground, the life slowly draining from his eyes. "*HACK* B-B..... BALTHAZAR! BALTHAZAR THE DESTROYER!!!" His cry echoed out across the street. As he gazed up into the sky above him, he felt his life leaving him, but the last thing he saw before it was abruptly cut short was a car falling on top of him.

The tall, monstrous Witchfinder from earlier stood on the street again, now alone, all his other comrades now either dead or captured. His outstretched arm remained in the air a moment longer after it had tossed the car that landed on the now deceased Hit Squad leader. The Giant's other arm was next to his side, fist closed, but as it opened it released seven hypodermic needles.

Empty needles. The Boss fight had begun.

"PUUUUUUURGE!!!"

The Witchfinder roared with the low, monstrous bellow. He aimed his arms at the various heroes and supers around, unleashing a torrent of fiery, molten salt at the enemies that surrounded the area. The flash of blue had particularly caught Balthazar's attention, causing him to rip the door off the truck Cannonade had previously been thrown into before being tossed into another building. Balthazar flung the door in the direction of Cobalt Blue, following it up with more salt and fire.

__________________________________________________________________


Richard looked to the right side of the diner, standing outside was the giant of a man that had thrown Yue through the window. His eyes widened slightly as he tensed up. This guy was not human, not even close. He waited to see how the other heroes would respond, but the new comer (Cannonade he thought he heard? Sounded kind of familiar) had been tossed into another building, and some of the others seemed caught up in their own fights.

"Hey pal?" He called out over to Henry. "Hope that thing has a kill setting on it. You're going to need it."

After Richard quickly reloaded his gun, he vaulted out the diner window and onto the street, firing off three shots at Balthazar's head. Two went through, the third knocked his hat off.

As the hat hit the ground, Balthazar's massively deformed head became visible to all. The place where the two bullets had hit was a now dented steel plate sewn into the monsters scar covered head. His entire face was a patchwork of stitches, decaying skin, and bits and pieces of metal and wires. The Witchfinders had employed a monster to hunt other 'monsters'.

"Guess you're going to take a little more work."


Balthazar roared at Richard, and the two charged toward each other. As the two closed the distance, a glittering blade formed on Richard's right hand and forearm, coming to a sharp, knife like point that protruded 3 or 4 inches out from his knuckle.

The beast of a man swung a right hook at Richard, but he quickly dipped down and dodged to the left, sending his right fist up into Balthazar's jaw, puncturing it and tearing through his mouth. Richard broke off the shard of ice and pulled away from Balthazar a few steps.

As the giant turned to look at the masked ice wielder, the ice blade fell from his mouth and shattered on the ground. Balthazar's jaw was split vertically into two, loose hanging halves that swayed as he moved. He swung his right arm and sent it crashing into Richard, tossing him backwards and sending him into a roll across the pavement.

"PURIFY!!! PUUUUUUURGE!!!"

He reiterated with fiery hated.

"As you wish." Richard muttered through gritted teeth, as he got back up, firing off three more shots.

The bullets passed through Balthazar's neck. He seemed unfazed as a trickle of thick, brown liquid began to make its way out of the holes in his neck.

__________________________________________________________________


Maxwell smiled as he pulled out his cell to amuse himself and the girl, but he soon noticed it wasn't working anymore. That was... Odd. And unexpected. He'd have to get that dealt with later. "I'm sorry, seems like I'm at a loss for that too. How strange." Maxwell looked the girl over, and then Kingsley once more.

"Since I can't help you, perhaps you can help me. I'm rather curious what it is you want with Mr. Kingsley?" He smiled kindly at the girl, intentions well hidden behind the soft face.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Klaus Zeit Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Cannonade
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"Okay...okay, okay, this is good," Henry sighed. Heroes had seem to crawl out of the woodwork in order to put a stop to the Witchfinders. He stood up. Now would be the perfect time to make his escape. More than a few people had seen him, but if he moved some of his plans up ahead of schedule....he may be able to secure a safe place to hide out in. At least for a moment.

"And I'm outta here...." he thought to himself as he began to run out the back, same way the civilians had exited the diner, out the back entrance. He poked his head out the door and froze right before he could turn the corner. Some of the diners and wait staff were being spoken to. He couldn't see the figure fully, but he caught the shoes, caked in dirty water. Dress pants, not too cheap, not too expensive. A woman was speaking to the civilians, her voice, sharp and direct. "Damn it."

Henry slowly closed the door, careful to not even make the slightest noise, even though the battle outside was making a cacophonous ruckus that drowned out nearly every miniscule sound. In fact...if the Witchfinders were too preoccupied with their foes, perhaps he could escape through the front, unperturbed! Henry began to turn around and....and once again, things happened too fast.

Perhaps he was too lost within his own thoughts to pay attention to what had gone on outside. But now, it was clear the situation may have gotten worse. The large Witchfinder, the one who had tossed the woman out the window. Seems like he was some kind of patchwork monstrosity, far more of a threat than his cohorts. And he's supposed to be one of the clowns that call other supers demons?! This shit was unreal.

"Hey pal?" He called out over to Henry. "Hope that thing has a kill setting on it. You're going to need it."


"I don't know if it's needed..." Henry looked up at the for everyone was engaging . "Not sure if it's make a difference either way..."

The frozen burglar had already gone to engage him. Henry was sure the other supers would join him soon, but if this thing proved to be a challenge, then....well. Henry's hands balled into fists. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. But for now, he could provide support. He draws out his blaster, firing some blasts at the mutational's legs. Probably would feel like an inconvenient sting in the long run, but a distraction could be beneficial to the others hoping to engage the bastard.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape) Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Klaus Zeit Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Cannonade
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Jericho found themselves slammed about, asphyxiating at first and then abruptly able to breathe once more. The sound of battle was fading from their hearing, and a quiet- in insistent- pounding was echoing against their mind. The Hunt kept calling out to them from some unknown distance, and their vision and focus was disoriented. It felt as if they were pushing through mud, but the mud was existence, and their body just wasn't right. It was a vaguely familiar sensation, as if they were dreaming... Their flesh shifted, swirling yet again with ink before a maw filled with tombstone shaped teeth formed on the patch of skin that held a strange device. Some sort of power was being emitted from it, and the cicada scream from their EMP generator was doing nothing.
So they crunched it. The abrupt opening and closing of a jaw with the strength twice that of a hippo flattened and destroyed the object attached to them.

The world was still blurry, and their vision was suddenly filled with Alex's! face.
A gentle pat across the 'unarmored' part of Jericho's ribs brought them further back to reality, farther away from the siren call of the Hunt. They knew he was talking to them, and they understood the words, but the meaning behind them just wasn't computing. Their mind was foggy and sluggish, the rush of combat was only just bleeding out of their system.
The sound of Alex's voice was filtering in, and the calm-panic in his tone shook Jericho to the odd core.

The first friend they had ever had, and they sounded fearful, but of what? Of them? Of the battle? They needed protection didn't they, shit. "Nrh. Hold on. Will protect you. Make you safe." They grunted out, their voice distorted and mixed together with the sounds of a tiger growl and a boar's grunt. They shifted then, dropping the combative form and instead switching to the shape of a large, amorphous metallic... Blob. Jericho swooped upward, surrounding Alex and cocooning the other super in a protective shell. They extended upward from there, forming a small, humanoid torso on top of the metallic sphere. The torso had no eyes, no mouth, no nose... But it did have a multitude of arms that were lined with jagged blades. The torso swayed back and forth, and was turned towards the squabbling group of Supers.

'Protect.' Said Jericho's instincts. So Jericho positioned themselves to protect.

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