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Richard Mackenzie (The White Death)

"True heroes do what is necessary."

0 · 2,252 views · located in Atlas City

a character in “Hadean”, as played by Lord Saethos

Description

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Theme 1 – Hells Bells
Theme 2 – Vigilante
Theme 3 – Count Dankula’s Theme
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Full Name: Richard Mackenzie
Alias: White Death, Great White Death
Age: 25 (Born 2020)
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian, Scottish/English/Brittonic descent. Canadian national.

Hair: Dark chocolate brown, almost black in some lights.

Eye color: Grey-Blue

Body: Slim but athletic.

Height: 5'10"

Weight: 148lbs

Hometown: Hope, British Columbia, Canada

Affiliation(s): Canadian Armed Forces (formerly)

Personality:
Calm and reserved, can come off as cold sometimes, but polite and respectful others. Richard can be quiet at times, but he’s more than willing to talk in the right circumstances. He is generally in control of himself, and that’s the way he likes it.

White Death, however, shows a different side of him. Cold. Brutal. Detached. Violent. White Death may be calm, but all energy he doesn’t waste in emotions is transferred to him brutally murdering villains, criminals, and the other lowly scum of the Earth. For your typical street criminal, White Death tries to be quick and efficient in taking out his opponents. For those individuals who are particularly vile, White Death will try his very best to ensure he takes as much time with his job as possible.

The greater the crime, or the more innocent the victims, then the more β€œcreatively cruel” White Death becomes to the villains.

Likes:
- The outdoors. Particularly enjoys hiking.

- Mountains

- Rain

- Black coffee with some sugar. Orange juice. Typical β€œbreakfast” drinks.

- History (including books, online content, and artwork)

- Various kinds of music, though different styles of rock tend to be closest to his heart. Contrasts slightly with his more β€œclassical” tastes or interests.

- Guns (the tool of his trade).

- Swords, knights, and medieval stuff. Enjoys the idea of heroes who fought for justice in a bygone era, even if they were few in number.

- Kind/respectful/polite people. At least reasonably so.

- Various other things. Some of which he keeps private. Very private.


Dislikes:
- Extreme heat. He’ll tolerate it, but it’s not his preference.

- Alcohol. Doesn’t drink.

- Smoking. Doesn’t smoke.

- Drugs (including weed). Doesn’t use them. However, he doesn’t make a fuss about others using, so long as it isn’t killing themselves or others. Ditto to smoking and drinking.

- Pointless bravado, narcissism, and self-aggrandisement. Hubris.

- Child abusers. No sane person likes these people. Richard likes them even less. But he does like hurting them. And killing them.

- Criminals in general that cause harm to others (especially to innocent people).

- Chaos, confusion, disorganization. It gets people killed.

- Many of the β€œhero” organizations. He sees them as bureaucratic or overbearing, and that they lose their ability to be effective by trying to be micromanaged.

- Villain organizations. Obviously.

- Despite Richard’s past occupation, he has had occasional trouble with β€œauthority”. He does respect authority, but he has directly disobeyed authority on a number of occasions. As such, he dislikes authority he views as either incompetent, or morally corrupt. And authority that fits that description is authority he will not listen to.

- Relying on his powers. Richard values the skills he has developed as a human, and it’s important to him that he be a capable fighter without needing his powers. Certainly he uses them, but he generally prefers his human abilities over his cape powers.


Fears:
- The people he loves being harmed or killed.

- Death (as most sane people would).

- Nonexistence. An existential fear, but a fear nonetheless.

- That he’s doing the wrong thing.


Skills:
- Skilled firearms user. Good with pistols, automatic rifles, shotguns, and rifles (bolt action, semi-automatic, etc.).

- Capable of hitting a target at considerable distances without using a scope (something he’s practiced since youth, and something that plays into his name).

- Can effectively use various pieces of military grade equipment (weapons, communications tech, etc.)

- Some mechanical skills he picked up in his youth and his time in the army.

Costume Identities:
Richard wears a simple outfit. Black tactical shirt, pants, and boots, with additional light armoring in black. Over the shirt he has a black, light-weight, bullet proof tactical vest, and his β€œmask” is a modified black "balaclava". On the upper parts of the sleeves of his black shirt (in the place where a flag would be on a military uniform) is a simple, black rectangular patch with a white circle on it, and a white line going through the middle of the circle. In ancient Greece, it was a symbol of death.
Uniform
Mask


Equipment:
- Two Pardini PC/GT pistols, one Silver, the other Black. The silver one has the name β€œExcalibur” etched onto it. The black one has the name β€œDurendal” etched onto it. Richard has these holstered with him for most combat areas.

- An MP5A3 submachine gun. The name β€œTizona” is etched onto it. Richard uses this in most general combat.

- A Franchi PA3 shotgun. The name β€œColada” is etched onto it. Richard usually uses this weapon when in a more confined combat area.

- .50 Caliber Beowulf AR-15. The name β€œHrunting” is etched onto it. Richard mostly reserves this for β€œabsolute necessity” situations. A gun built for hunting monsters.

- A black, carbon steel Tactical Machete. The name β€œJoyeuse” is etched onto the blade. Richard carries this in a sheath generally attached to his back.


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Background:

Richard was born on April 16th, 2020 in the small Canadian town of Hope, British Columbia. He grew up there on a rural ranch property, to a relatively normal family who had a relatively normal life. The only thing not β€œnormal” was perhaps Richard’s grandfather, the somewhat wealthy owner of a manufacturing company operating in a few different countries. But Richard’s family wasn’t anyone famous, or fabulously wealthy, just better off than many others. And that took time, effort, and a lot of risk on his grandfather’s part.

What changed Richard from being a regular kid happened in 2031, when he was 11. His younger brother Anthony (8 at the time) had gone missing. Several other children had gone missing in BC recently, and this was just one more to send the province into a panic. The family did everything they could to find Anthony, tried to hire private detectives, everything. Nothing came of it.

5 months later, a man was arrested trying to cross from Ontario into the state of Michigan. He was carrying photographs, and other various pieces of evidence that tied him to the kidnappings, and his other atrocious crimes. A week later they recovered Anthony’s body in British Columbia, as well as the bodies of seven other young boys and girls in both BC and Ontario. The man arrested plead insanity, and due to that and his age was sent to a mental health institute for the next 13 years.

This moment changed Richard forever.

The once innocent, blissful child became a bottle of pure, distilled, righteous hatred. His life began to revolve around the things he could have done to save his brother, the other children, and so many other people who’ve suffered. And what went from thoughts of hatred went to thoughts of violence.

This wasn’t all that was on his mind of course. He became keenly interested in history, particularly WW1 and WW2, as well as medieval history and Ancient Mesopotamia. It was through these interests that he came across the real-life legend of Simo HΓ€yhΓ€, the β€œWhite Death” of Finland. He was a sniper who had killed hundreds of invading Russians, without a scope, burying himself in snow, and landing killing blows on targets hundreds of feet away from him. The skill and ability to manage this in such extreme conditions inspired Richard. As he got older and was allowed to shoot in target practice, he trained without a scope.

As he grew older and the internet became more accessible to a young boy, he began to watch movies online. One film that caught his attention was from the 70’s or 80’s, focusing on a small group of New Yorkers who’d been terrorized by gangs and street thugs. Eventually, the victims decided they had had enough and decided to deal with the threat more violently. It likely took inspiration from real life vigilantes like the β€œGuardian Angels”, though they were less violent by far.

By all accounts Richard seemed normal to most people around him. He enjoyed sports, was relatively social, and even did a little bit of acting at school. So it came as a surprise to many people around him when, upon graduation from High School, he immediately signed up with the Canadian Armed Forces.
Richard, being a persistent young man, pushed to be trained as a regular infantryman, a sniper, and as a mechanic. He excelled in the first two, and he managed to be decent as a mechanic, enough that he would be called on for some maintenance jobs. By the time he was 19, he was deployed to <REDACTED> to serve with coalition forces.

It was during the war that his powers became active, these specifics (and his time in the army) will be listed in the β€œPower Origins” section. Later in his career however, there was considerable tension between Richard and his superiors, and in 2044 he left the army and returned home to Canada.
When Richard returned to Canada, it was just in time to learn that a piece of unfinished business had just been released from a mental institute. His brother’s killer, who had apparently shown β€œremorse”, β€œregret”, β€œconsiderable progress”, and β€œreal change” was to be released back into the world. Of course, he was expected to β€œcheck in” regularly with a parole officer, but he was old, and expected to live out the rest of his days quietly.
Richard had other ideas.

Just one missed parole meeting and a national search began for the β€œreformed” killer. For months police across Canada, and both Canadian and US border services, worked tirelessly to find this man. To this day not a single glimpse of him has been found. No photos, no eyewitness accounts, no stolen vehicles. The man was never seen again. Alive or dead.

Police investigated some of the families to the killer’s past victims, including Richard. But he was just hard at work working for his grandfather, far away from his brother’s killer. No evidence linked Richard (or anyone else) to the killer’s disappearance. The White Death had meted out violent justice for the first time, and certainly not the last…

Powers:

North Wind -
[Shaker – 6]

Richard can slow down particles and energy in an area around him, resulting in a drop of temperature in that area. When utilized with his other powers (provided there is sufficient moisture around) this can also be used to create a miniature snow storm in the area (more on this later). So far he has demonstrated that he can achieve temperatures as low as -15 to -20 degrees Celsius, but it’s possible he could manage even lower temperatures.

White Out -
[Shaker – 6 / Stranger – 4]

By lowering the temperature in an area sufficiently, and focusing his energy on creating particles of snow, Richard can create a miniature snow storm. When done correctly, this creates a small area of obscured visibility, allowing Richard a brief moment to retreat/escape if it ever becomes necessary.

Ice Creation/Manipulation -
[Shaker – 7/ Blaster – 2 / Striker – 5 / Changer - 7]

As with the rest of his cold generation abilities, by slowing the movement of particles Richard is able to create and manipulate ice in a variety of ways.
1. Ice Projectiles (Blaster): Richard can create ice spikes to be used as projectiles. However, his skills of moving them in this way is quite limited, usually it requires another force to use them as actual projectiles (including the manual use of his body, ie. Throwing them).

2. Ice Armor (Changer): As the ice spikes would indicate, Richard can form ice into designs suitable for melee weapons, and also for temporary armor. As this is only ice, and creating ice also takes time, armor is usually a very temporary measure, and only manages to absorb some damage. Very much an emergency use technique.

3. Ice Weapons (Changer): The ice weapons Richard creates can be a little more durable than the armor (if their shape can be maintained) and can be effectively utilized for a longer time than the armor. Weapons include β€œice spikes”, daggers and other blades, and β€œknuckle dusters”. The ice knuckle dusters are probably the sturdiest, as they can be made more quickly, more durable, and absorb shock quite well. They also pack quite the punch.

4. Freezing (Blaster/Striker): While Richard can’t exactly β€œproject” an attack, he can manipulate particles at some distances, meaning that he is capable of forming ice over something either close to him, or that he is touching. Touching generally works faster, but this can be used to freeze objects, or even people. While it has proven difficult so far, theoretically Richard could even turn the moisture in a human body into ice, causing near-permanent, potentially lethal damage. This usually takes considerable time however, a lot of energy, and mastery. As of now, Richard has not mastered this ability.



Power Origins:

While Richard was in the armed forces, he demonstrated great skill in pretty much everything he was asked to do. He was a decent mechanic, a solid infantryman, and an exceptional sniper. But he had a lot of trouble with authority. Richard was frequently being reprimanded by superiors for not using his scope on sniper operations, and his protests that he was β€œbetter without one” did not convince them. They didn’t prevent him from continuing as a sniper on occasion, but he would often sneak the scope off when he thought he could get away with it.

His comrades understandably were confused by his behavior, and they didn’t feel much better when he explained the β€œcompetition” he was having with a Finnish sniper from WW2; Simo HΓ€yhΓ€, the β€œWhite Death”. Richard didn’t want to be as good as Simo, he wanted to be better than him. Shoot from a further distance, kill more enemies, and miss fewer shots than the now dead veteran had done. Some of the soldiers were bothered by this for a while, not sure he could be trusted with their lives.

It took a few years, but eventually he did gain their trust, and two nicknames. Some of the soldiers would refer to him simply as β€œThe White Death”, hinting that he was continuing on the legacy of Simo. Others would refer to him as β€œThe Great White Death”. Because he was Canadian.

His skills eventually caught the eyes of the Joint Special Task Force (JSTF), Canadian Special Forces. Richard was never fully brought into the JSTF, but he was used as one of their primary snipers on various missions, and as a result also ended up working alongside US troops.

And that’s how everything changed for him. Richard was sent with a special convoy with both Canadian and US troops, they were supposed to be securing a new location deeper into enemy territory. This was going to dislodge the enemy and allow coalition forces to operate in a wider area. But someone had tipped off the enemy. Rockets were fired at the convoy, blowing up several of their vehicles, and killing several dozen soldiers.

Richard’s truck skidded off the road and crashed but avoided being hit by direct rocket fire. He managed to crawl out of the wreck, and was trying to regroup with the rest of the soldiers so they could prepare a counter attack. Another rocket flew by, hitting another vehicle and creating another explosion. This time a piece of shrapnel was propelled right into Richard’s skull. Everything went black in an instant, and his body fell to the ground.

Several days later, Richard awoke in an army medical tent, head splitting with pain, but otherwise alive and in one piece. His bed was also covered in a thin layer of frost, in temperatures above 30 Celsius. Richard doesn’t remember anything of how his powers were first activated, but soldiers who recovered him from the convoy all stated there was a layer of frost across him, and sporadic chunks of ice littering the area around him.

The army worked hard to get Richard back into fighting shape, and to train him to use his powers for more combat-oriented roles. This was something he was heavily resistant too as he preferred relying on his β€œhuman skills”, rather than on his β€œluck of the draw” powers. Regardless, he spent some time learning to hone them, but soon found himself back in standard missions for the military.

A few months after this had all occurred, in 2016, Richard was sent on what would be his last mission. The details are ones Richard doesn’t like to speak about, but whatever did occur led to a series of disputes between himself and his military superiors. In the end, he was permitted a β€œvoluntary release”, though this may not have been given to him very easily.

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Color Code:#2B4F81

So begins...

Richard Mackenzie (The White Death)'s Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Akiko Bong Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Sasha Belov
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"I guess I'll head to the warehouse then, It's not really within my realm of expertise... But I may be the closest thing we've got to a structural engineer." Devon said as he got up to leave, pausing as he passed in front of George. "...Perhaps it's best if you'd allow your researchers take a look at it first, though if they can't get through to it please do return it. I think I have a sure-fire way to crack the puzzle, but it might take quite some time." He said as he gently placed the blueprint orb in front of George on the table. With that said he walked out of the room finalizing his shift into wraith form as he passed the doorway.



Atlas City: Ruined warehouse


Arriving at the site of the ruined warehouse Devon noticed he had been beaten to the location not only by Silver Fang, but also by Sairyn's spawn. It seemed they were already processing the scene at least it appeared one of the drones way scanning the area likely trying to create a 3-D render of the debris field. Another had dropped something which appeared to create a holographic overlay of the building prior to it's impromptu demolition.

Taking a look at the holographic overlay he scoured the layout for something which one could feasibly 'accidentally' damage that could bring down a building, but if everything had been built as designed then that would be quite a challenge without some large mechanical equipment and there wasn't any of that sort hiding in the debris field. So that route's pretty much dead on arrival, something or someone deliberately caused this damage.

Taking advantage of his wraith form he flew up his to get a birds eye view of the rubble and a bit better grasp on the bigger picture. Trying to imagine how the walls had come down and where what parts of the roof ended up it was quite clear that this wasn't much of a collapse at all... It almost looked like something ripped the place apart in a fit of rage. The walls were perhaps the most clear sign, parts of them looked almost as if they had been blown up... But without any scorch marks to back that up that looked unlikely... Where other parts of the same wall had simply buckled as the buildings weight overcame their strength.

Devon dropped back down to the earth re-materializing next to Silver Fang careful to not move the debris beneath his feet. "Looking at the rubble I'd wager a guess that this building was manhandled by a brute. I can't see any signs of fire or explosives being used and the damage is too... Random to have been a collapse. Whomever brought this building down wanted it to be destroyed, but at the same time wouldn't have cared about removing any evidence. I mean this took time and effort, emptying a couple gas cans or breaking a gas line and throwing a match would have done the same, faster and cleaner." He said part to inform Silver Fang and part to see if he had overlooked something obvious.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Akiko Bong Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway
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Having left Jemma contained while he went to a meeting felt wrong. He had no idea how long she would be in that weird state and the idea of her coming out of it and freaking out over the sudden containment left a bad taste in his mouth. Whatever was going on, she didn’t seem in control or aware while in that orb, so he had to just pray he got out of this meeting before she came too. He technically was going to be a few minutes late to the meeting since he did still need a quick shower after both his run and spare with Silver Fang. Best not to be smelled from across the room after all.

Alex chose to stand with his back up against the wall, arms crossed. Mostly due to nerves and really not wanting to be addressed directly yet if he could help it. After the last few days it was no secret that Alex had been itching to hear just what George had in store for this group of supers he had gathered together. Reservations aside, the idea of being on a team with little affiliation to the pre established organizations made him a bit more comfortable. The less suits he had to deal with the better.

Aaaaand people started talking about artifacts and time . . . What? That was around the time Alwx started tuning out most of the meeting. He couldn’t help but feel lost and out of place more so than when it was mentioned that the beast from the beach was said to have been a child and from another dimension. Am I the only one here that’s noticing how crazy this all is?

When the conversation started to drift towards the issues involving the Witchfinder Generals Alex couldn’t help feeling relieved. Finally, something I can actually help with. The fact that the investigation was technically under NAHLA jurisdiction didn’t seem to be preventing anyone present from contributing to the investigation either which was a blessing. The memorial was mentioned, but truth be told Alex didn’t feel like he was in a good mood or mindset to participate. He needed something to take his mind off all of . . . This.

Noticing that things were wrapping up, Alex pushed himself off the wall and made his way to leave. ” Well, this was fun and all, but I think I’ll be passing on the memorial for personal reasons. I’m going to go check on Jemma and see what I can do with the Witchfinders business.β€œ

Alex didn’t realize how tense he had been through all that as he walked towards Sairyn’s lab. He had expected to feel his barrier around Jemma to crack or break entirely during the meeting. He hadn’t fortified it too much, which was stupid in hindsight. But there had been next to no feedback the entire time. That could be either good or bad in the next minute. Finding Sai’s lab unlocked, Alex took a deep breath and opened the door. ” Jemma, it’s Alex. Please don’t be freaking out. I’m sorry for bubbling you but you were kinda freaking out and shooting lightning everywhere.β€œ he slowly entered the room, not knowing what to expect at this point.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Akiko Bong Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway
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Club Shapeless: Atlas City
Maxwell chuckled slightly at Scourge’s response, nodding in affirmation. β€œI have every faith you’re all the most capable people that could be put to this task. Just β€˜pull carefully’ with this one. Weeds can grow back if any root is left behind. We need to make absolutely sure we get every last root in our grasp first. Then we can rip them out, and toss them in a bonfire.”


Things began to near their end, with Gideon making his final remarks. β€œThank you Mayor Gauss, I’ll be sure to put this to good use.” Maxwell said in regards to the automaton his cousin had leant to them. As Gideon’s form disappeared, the others began to ready themselves to leave, with Maeve leading the way.


After his chair lightly shook from the press of her finger, The Shape rose a hand to stop her. β€œHold on, there’s one last matter I need to address.” He swiped across his phone again, pulling something else up onto the wall screen. An email this time, one that appeared to have been written for quite a variety of recipients.


The sender was a corporation called Menagerie Tech.


β€œApparently this company, Menagerie Tech, has had an issue lately with a β€˜lost asset’. They’ve requested assistance from just about everyone they felt was safe to ask in this matter. The asset they’re looking for in specific is some kind of shape shifter.”


Under his mask, Maxwell allowed for a slight smirk. β€œThere’s no doubt of quite a handsome reward for helping reunite them with their lost β€˜property’, but businesses like ours have more things to consider than money. If you come across this shape shifter, I ask you to do what you can to ensure it ends up back here at Shapeless instead.”


The Shape looked to all others present. β€œThat’s all from me for now. If you need anything else feel free to ask now. Otherwise, you can head to the warehouse now.”



__________________________________________________________________



The Memorial


Before leaving the resort, George had made sure to get Devon’s β€˜blueprint’ put into a secure area where it could be researched later. The object was strange, something he’d never encountered before. But based on the discussion of the strange interdimensional travel, he was allowing himself to have a small amount of optimism that this could be a potential breakthrough in their fight. It would remain to be seen, but hope was an important tool, one they were all in need of.


Atlas City finally came into sight again, striking George with a strange sense of foreignness, but also nostalgia. It had only been a few days ago, and yet it felt like years. The old man continued to gaze out through the window of the 2025 Rolls Royce Limo he and Richard both sat in the back of.


Richard adjusted his tie while taking a quick glance at George. The old man seemed deep in thought, understandable given the circumstances. The White Death was also in a slight trance, thinking back to the day the β€˜Beast’ had attacked. Standing on the balcony, looking out at the ocean, seeing that towering mound of death… It was like it had never even happened, like it wasn’t real. How could it have been? And yet, here they were, going to a memorial for the people who died from it, the ones that couldn’t be saved.


β€œHow does the suit fit ?” George asked quietly of Richard.


Richard nodded an affirmation before he spoke. β€œQuite well actually, little surprised you had something in my size.”


George chuckled slightly, trying to keep up a positive exterior, hiding the sense of melancholy growing as they drew closer and closer to the memorial area. β€œActually we just work quite fast. Some things can’t be anticipated for, so the only alternative you have is to reach a solution as quick as possible.”


Richard smiled in agreement, but said nothing more as the car pulled up to the memorial. All the passengers inside stepped out and made there way to find spots to sit. Richard had hoped he and George might sit a little closer to Henry. He wanted to be close to someone he knew, and someone he felt could offer some more immediate assistance if any was needed.


White Death had already spotted some familiar faces, a few quite famous, including the briefest of glimpses of Cannonade. Seemed they’d arrived earlier, and were already busy being adored by the crowds.



George and Richard finally took their seats near the edge of the crowds, hoping to avoid being clustered too close together with anyone, and wanting easy access to be able to stand up and leave their seats if it became essential. The old man had noticed plenty of familiar faces, but what caught his attention most immediately was that Henry had gone to join what appeared to be a family, possibly his own relatives. It was touching, but he had some concerns as well, primarily for the safety of the two adults and their children.


β€œYou know George, I think we should come up with a team name at some point.” Richard stated nonchalantly.


George, a little surprised, cocked an eyebrow at the comment. β€œReally? And what do you suppose you should all be called?”


Richard shrugged. β€œNo idea, I kinda thought that was more your department, speaking frankly.”


The old man’s mouth perked up at the corner as he shook his head. β€œNo, while I might be your β€˜boss’, I think you’re all much more qualified to come up with that sort of thing on your own. Besides, builds some camaraderie with each other, and lets me avoid being criticized over choice of name.” He chuckled slightly.


__________________________________________________________________



Start of the Memorial


As everyone took their seats, or found a place to stand and watch, a deafening quiet came over the crowds gathered in Atlas City. All eyes turned to the stage, or the screens, whichever they had easiest access to view. After a few moments of silence set in, a projector screen lowered at the back of the stage, and on its left and right side two banners unfurled downwards, decorated with the stars and stripes of the American flag.


Images began to fade into view on the screen, and the televisions across the city, country, and world. Pictures of men, women, children; they were of homes, parties, happy times. Hearts broke and tears began to stream as the pictures became accompanied by the sounds of Lee Greenwood's β€œProud to be an American”. Those who tried not to cry struggled, some failed. They leaned on shoulders, tried to give comfort where they could as they watched images of their happy loved ones pass by.


After a while, the song finally came to its close, and the screen faded to its blank, white color once more. The first speaker came to the front of the stage, slowly, almost cautiously. Once he was at the podium, Captain Valor took a moment to compose himself. The hurt was clear in him to the crowd below, but he maintained his composure as the screen behind him flickered with color once more. Now images of Lonestar faded in and out, introducing various glimpses of the hero’s life and adventures.


β€œMy fellow Americans, people of the world. We all lost loved ones on March 12th. For me, it was my fellow hero, sometimes rival, and always good friend; Lonestar. We had…” Valor went quiet a moment as his eyes glistened, two tiny trickles of tears making their way down his cheeks. β€œWe had a lot of adventures together. Saved a lot of people. Saved each other even a few times.”


The hero continued on, regaling the crowd with a few tales of the adventures the two heroes had had. Of course, this was all mostly known to the public. There were many β€˜adventures’ they hadn’t heard of though, the kinds of which Valor and Lonestar would both ensure were taken with them to the grave…


β€œAll I want to say now is thank you everyone, America and the whole world, for all your continuing support. And to Lonestar buddy, we’ll meet again one day. Till then, know that you’ll always be in our hearts, a true American hero.” Valor began to exit the stage, wiping away a few tears as the screen continued to show a montage of Lonestar, before slipping into images of more of the heroes and soldiers that laid down their lives to fight the Beast. As America’s heroes passed by on the screen, they were accompanied by a favorite song of Lonestar’s, Toby Keith’s β€œCourtesy Of The Red, White And Blue”.


While the crowd was hit by a wave of emotions, the sadness had begun to subside near the end of the song, giving way to a roar of cheering and applause. They could be proud of those who sacrificed so much for them, and honor that freedom by continuing to fight this fight for their families, friends, and America itself.


As the song subsided, other speakers had gone up to the stage, survivors, family members of victims, heroes. Once they’d said their piece, it was time for the message they all really needed to hear. Gordon Ford, President of the United States of America, stepped up to the podium. Near the back of the stage, stood near other speakers, the Secdef and Attorney General both stood by, looking on and hoping Gordon knew what he was doing.


β€œMy fellow Americans…” he started. β€œThis has been a truly, truly painful time for us all. Our country has suffered a grievous injury like never before. So many lives lost, families torn apart… We’ve never seen anything like this.” There was a pause as he sought for words to give power to what he was saying. β€œBut we are a strong nation, a strong people. We’ll rebuild, and fight this fight to keep our free nation as free as it ever has been. You can all sleep soundly at night, knowing we’re working tirelessly to keep you all safe, and to give you the answers you deserve. The people who did this will be brought to life, this I promise you. And to help keep that promise, your government is starting new initiatives to try and fight this menace, including a new team we are calling F.I.S.T. And to speak more on that, I’d like to introduce our Secretary of Defense, Victor Covistic.”


There was some cheering for the President as he stepped away from the podium, though the message he gave perhaps didn’t have the amount of impact he’d hoped for. Victor, for his part, smiled at the President as he went to the podium himself, but inwardly thought very lowly of everything the President had just β€˜attempted’.


Once Victor took the podium, he also allowed for a brief pause, a moment of quiet, as he went over everything he would need to say. β€œThank you Mr. President. Ladies and Gentlemen, people of America, citizens of Atlas City… Before I say anything else, I need to take a moment here to apologize. As Secretary of Defense, I’m partially responsible for the response we gave to the monster that attacked this great city. We believed we were ready to take this thing on, that we had everything we needed to destroy it. We were wrong, we underestimated the Beast, and we need to take responsibility for that. Myself, my colleagues, and everyone in your government takes responsibility for our handling of this attack.”


There was silence in the crowd as they took in what he had to say. β€œAs the President said, we are all working tirelessly to strike back against our enemy, and while I cannot, for security reasons, tell you everything you deserve to know, I can tell you that our enemies are not long for this world.” He took a pause, hands pressed firmly on the podium as he squared his shoulders and looked directly into the faces of the crowd before him. β€œAgain, I cannot say much for security reasons, but what I can tell you is that the military is developing a team called F.I.S.T. First Initiation Strike Team. They will be instrumental in allowing us to deal with these threats in more precise, fast, and tactical ways. We are also developing another team, known as Bulwark. This team will differ from F.I.S.T. as it will be the newest American Hero team we put together, designed for the specific purpose of ridding us of monsters like this Beast. We will have more details on this team at a later date. But for now…”


Another moment of silence. It stretched on for a second as Victor held his gaze with the crowd, letting them have a moment of anticipation. β€œFor now let me say this. America, today is a day for mourning. Feel this grief, this sadness, this hurt. Let it all go through you. That’s what we can do today. Tomorrow? Let these feelings embolden us. Let it steel us, our resolve. The ones who did this to America, to the American people, they want us to be afraid. They want us to live in fear of them, to put us on edge. But our men and women in uniform, our Supers, our best and brightest minds, are all working in unison in this fight. One people, one purpose. They crave justice, to bring retribution down like a mighty storm. Our enemies have caused us to be afraid long enough. It’s time for these cowards to TRULY be afraid. They’ve awoken the Beast of America, and we are ravenous.”


With that, Victor stepped away from the podium as a roar of passionate emotions erupted from the crowd. The cheers were near deafening, filled with a sound that could be described as sorrow burning up into righteous rage. America had been struck a heavy blow, but it would strike back with a million times more force.


Once the crowd had let that wave of emotion pass through it, other speakers began to take the stage…

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Cannonade Character Portrait: Klaus Zeit Character Portrait: Silentium
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Atlas City Memorial 11:22 AM. The last speaker got a standing ovation for his heartfelt words of encouragement to the surviving friends and family of the Beast's victims. In the row next to the target, Precipitator was busy comforting an older woman. An old relative of hers, perhaps? A friend? A retired hero? Perhaps just a stranger she happened to sit next to and was comforting out of kindness. How noble.

Next to her were the five other members of SixStorm. Category-5 sat furthest to the right of the group at the end of the row. Perfect. His ability to read the flow of the wind currents needed to be taken to consideration and him sitting right at the end, made the trajectory of the projectile all the more easy to calculate.

A quick read of the old woman's vitals revealed she was not in perfect health. Palpitations in her lungs were currently on the rise given her current state of mind. Nothing would feel amiss when the dart hit her neck and she slumped over. Too tiny to see with the naked eye, the number of supers purported to have heightened senses were taken to account. Particular those with enhanced sight and hearing. None were in this row or two rows in front, but the cluster of seats adjacent to them, had two right within ear shot.

A risk perhaps, but a disk-drone was launched from the barrel. No bigger than a fly and remote controllable immediately after release. It'd emit a high frequency sonic wave. Annoying enough to turn attention to or catch the ear of dogs but otherwise it was nothing but a distraction. It land and bury itself within the sands after five seconds. Just long enough for those in attendance who could hear it to wonder what it was before being distracted by something else.

If Silentium was lucky, they'd even investigate. They couldn't trace it back to him if they tried. After all, even if they'd managed to follow the trajectory, he was never in the exact same place twice. His teleportation matrix was assure that. And thanks to his stealth field he would not be seen or heard either.

The old woman was in a catatonic state. Temporary. The dart had already dropped off. and fallen to the floor. Tiny robotic legs sprouted from it and carried it away from the scene. The puncture wound was miniscule and would not be seen right away. Even if it had he'd enough time as per his calculations. Heightening audio receptors...

"Nana! Nana! Oh no, it's her heart! She can't-"

An internal smile. More of a smirk. The entire teams began to panic. It seems the family connection was spot on. good. It would breed more irrationality. Pre-existing conditions meant she was less likely to check for external causes, less likely to ask for the opinion of any super qualified to examine her medically. And why would she. Checked for fever, checked her heart. Either way she wouldn't discover where he dart struck.

And what's more it was but a blip in this massive crowd, but a distraction She wouldn't want to disrupt the ceremonies. A phone call. An ambulance. Precipitator would carry her out of the premises. And her team would follow. A show of solidarity. Such nobility should be commended.

A quick scan of the target's row. Mindscape, a telepath sat it front. His helmet was an eyesore, but he shouldn't be a problem. A lot of ex-military and street level supers. Not an issue for his purposes, but as a precautionary measure, a disc-drone. Behind the last row of seats was a long line in order to get some refreshments. It was a long ceremony after all, even in this tepid weather people would get parched.

A quick scan of the line, showed a variety of supers, none posing an immediate threat. One was of interest, however. A speedster, with a containment suit. Appeared to be designed to house an unstable body. Perfect. The punch gets poured in and the drone follows. Run a quick diagnostic scan, and have the drone emit counter-vibrations to reverb against the speedster's vibrations and she'd experience a sense of violent vertigo.

Lashing out, she knocked the punch cooler, earlier and vomited on the floor. This was enough of a distraction to garner the attention of most of the backrow. What's more, the paparazzo had begun to swarm in. He couldn't ask for a better distraction as some reporters and other officials in the row of George Carlisle began to turn their heads. And all those sitting out in front were none the wiser. Silentium raised his rifle. No trick shots this time. This one would be plain and simple. Quick. Clean. And silent.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Cannonade Character Portrait: Klaus Zeit Character Portrait: Silentium Character Portrait: Albrecht von Richthofen
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Albert dropped from the sky like a meteor, his near soundless fall giving way to a tremendous snap and crack of the stage buckling under his momentum. Ripping his feet free, Albert strode from the crater he'd created in the wood, pulling his goggles up to his forehead. Staring out at the gathered supers and other passersby, who had all turned from their momentary distractions, some out of fear, others out of confusion from the man who had literally fallen from the heavens, Albert reached out and grasped the microphone from the podium.

"I am known as Backlash," Albert boomed. "I represent Atlas City Heroes Incorporated. I watched the heroes of this city fight the beast that rose from the depths of the sea to attack us just a short time ago. We were all unprepared. But while many of my peers look forward with fear, I look forward with fury. Though many of the surviving heroes cower in misery, shock and grief, I do not."

A glow began to arise around Albert. Strangely, the air around him seemed to darken... as if the light itself were being subtly pulled into Albert's aura.

"My mission is to protect this city," Albert continued. "It is a mission I take seriously. It is a mission I will not be unprepared for again. I promise you this, Atlas City, and even beyond, if a beast of hell should arise again, I will be there. No matter its form, no matter its strength, I will be there."

The glow was stronger now, but Albert didn't seem to notice. "I promise you this, Atlas City. There is no one in this world stronger than I am. I will be the frontline. I will be the wall upon which the darkness breaks, and the shining blade that will destroy any abomination that dares appear. Thus, from this day on, I will no longer be called Backlash. Today, I take on a new name: Crimson Shield."

As suddenly and strangely as it had appeared, the glow was gone and the light show with it, leaving Albert in his aged pilot uniform on the stage, the last of his words echoing across the crowd.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Cannonade Character Portrait: Klaus Zeit Character Portrait: Albrecht von Richthofen
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Klaus sat silently as the memorial carried on. His mind kept replaying the events of the day, or rather the year for him. He'd spent an entire year developing a method for destroying the Beast, using tech three-hundred years more advanced, and still managed to fail. In fact, it nearly cost him his life! Technically it did, at least life as he knew it. He was now a prisoner of time, unable to move forward to return home, and somehow everywhere he visited in the past was now different. Time was fractured, and he had managed to slide into a different timeline when exactly the timeline splintered was the mystery. Henry and a few others mentioned The Horde, a species of time tunneling roaches, but that wasn't conclusive enough to him that the shared allies they'd met were from the "proper" time or this new offshoot. Did it even matter? He couldn't be sure. He indeed seemed to exist outside the rules of time and very well may never live in this world's future and could be reason enough for why he cannot visit the future. Perhaps his tech had been altered by being here into a less advanced version? He made a mental note to run a diagnostic when he visited The Time Tunnel next.

His attention returned to the memorial as Albert, a hero he remembered seeing briefly during the battle, finished speaking. His voice echoing around the audience. Klaus stood and placed his hands into his pockets. He wasn't going to learn anything sitting around. While he understood the symbolism and psychological need for a memorial, it was simply a stage for those in power to pretend they cared. They truly felt sorrow and could empathize with the thousands of people of Atlas City in mourning. It was all for show. The President would travel back to D.C. and remember no one he talked to, Sec Def would simply think of the weaponry he wanted and use the catastrophe as leverage to add money to the defense budget, and the heroes? Many of these heroes are around for show only. Few fought, and fewer are truly mourning anyone. Many will speak as Albert had, but few will follow through. Klaus doubted everyone employed by George was indeed on board with the suicide mission he'd recruited them for. Many may have seen the opportunity to use the "Get out of Jail Free Card" he'd presented but never really considered the price.

Klaus found himself walking among construction barriers and chain-link fences, heavy machinery parked nearby. Clean up was well underway and in a few months the debris would be gone but the scar across the city would last years. He wondered if a proper memorial would be built here, and thought about what that could look like before turning down a street and into what was just another normal day for the citizens of Atlas City. Their city had been attacked, thousands died, no answers were ever given, yet here they were, traveling to work, school, shopping, life went on, it always does. He looked over his shoulder at the stark contrast to the crumbling ruins of the beachfront where thousands sat to listen to speeches, and then back to the bustling street before him. He sighed and pressed on, his mind clouded with questions that seemed to have no answers or at least answers he wasn't ready to accept.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Akiko Bong Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway
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Eva's mismatched eyes narrowed near imperceptibly at Albert's spectacle, and though she kept a saccharine smile on her face, she couldn't hide the subtle twitch of her left cheek.

"Ma'am. I believe you're up next," informed one of the stage hands.

"Oh my, that time already then?" She chirped, though she hesitated to stand. Her eyes drifted off the stage to where Cannonade had been standing before a wry grin twisted the corners of her lips. "Oh, nobody wants to hear a droll statement from some boring official like me... why not have the world's greatest 'hero' take the stage and say something instead? I can go afterwards," she insisted, shooing the stage-hand away.

THE WAREHOUSE


The spent bullet casing was tagged with a holographic as Yue approached, careful not to disturb the rubble.

"Good question...," she trailed off in response to Devon as she traced his line of sight from the door, tapping a metal finger on the chin of her mask. "My guess would be to obscure the evidence but... if that were the goal, why leave anything at all? This place is rather out of the way... especially with the Memorial pending it's a safe to assume they'd have had plenty of time to clean up even without knocking the building down. Curious," she noted thoughtfully, and then turned to see Akiko "trampling" over her crime scene.

She took a step towards the woman, making a choked noise of surprise before she noticed the detritus passing through her body as though it weren't there. Yue still couldn't help but scurry over to supervise closer, though, making noises of obvious discomfort and twitching whenever Akiko would "touch" something that wasn't catalogued. Investigator swooped over, making some very rude noises, mirroring Yue's anxiousness as it watched her pick through the rubble and hurriedly scanning anything new she turned up. Yue made a few gestures on an interface only her HUD could see, and Investigator dropped a handful of capsules no bigger than a thumb onto the pile. They unfurled into tiny centipede-like machines and scurried into the cracks to catalogue everything inside the cavity Akiko uncovered.

Yue jumped visibly as Jemma landed, spinning around and expecting to find trouble. Well... she wasn't wrong at the very least. When her gaze stopped on Jemma she relaxed noticeably.

"You. Are... SO cute," she muttered inside her helmet, unable to stay mad.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Klaus Zeit Character Portrait: Sairyn Pendrake Character Portrait: Silentium
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Richard felt a jolt of anxiety and instant terror rock through him as some kind of explosion erupted from the memorial stage. His gaze flashed forward to see what kind of tragedy had occurred, what insidious act had just taken place, only to take in the image of another super standing there, the one who took out the military's big gun on the beach. A wave of relief soon followed after, but ebbed away as a sense of annoyance bubbled up. The way he spoke seemed perhaps a bit too... Grandiose, in some ways. Particularly during a memorial. Maybe he was just trying to reassure the scared public, but it didn't exactly feel that way to Richard.


The White Death had just a moment ago been focused on some nearby heroes who'd seemed to be fainting, or getting sick, probably from nerves. He turned his attention back to the stage, but got distracted from the sight of birds fleeing the scene. 'Crimson Shield's' entrance seemed to have scared them considerably worse than it had Richard, and he wondered if they perhaps could feel any of that annoyance he did. His eyes followed them as they moved away from the stage, inland towards the city, passing over buildings. He watched as they dipped and dove, evading a non-existent danger as they tried to locate safer grounds.


Richard felt a little entranced, taking the moment to just enjoy watching them as they slowed to more of a gingerly glide, disappearing behind buildings, only to reappear as they rose back up into the sky. Back and forth they flew, up and down. He watched as two of them once again disappeared again.


Disappeared into thin air.


It was a brief moment before they had reappeared again, and Richard questioned if he'd even seen it at all, but they looped back around, and once more disappeared in the middle of the air before quickly reappearing again.


There was someone up on that roof.


His eyes darted around again to where the sick heroes had been, then back to the roof.


Richard had no idea how it happened, but it had to be some kind of sniper. As the realization hit him, he turned to George, grabbing the old man by the back of the neck, and pulling him down into a bow.



"Richard! What are you do-"


The old man's words were cut off as a quiet crack, barely audible even to Richard and George themselves, came from the ground just across from them. George and Richard both gazed at the spot, a hole now in the ground, created by a small, super heated bullet of some kind. The old man looked to Richard in shock and determination.


"We're getting you out of here, now." Richard whispered. "Pretend to be sick." He lifted George up and carried him over to the group of supers tending to some of the sick as he pulled his cellphone out, quickly dialing in a number.


Henry's phone rang, and when he picked it up, Richard's voice came through. "We've got a sniper here, get over to George ASAP and keep him safe, I'm dropping him off with a group of supers tending to some sick." After that, he quickly hung up and looked to the group he'd been rushing towards. "Hey, my granddad's sick! Can you guys please look after him while I go get his medicine? I've got a friend coming over to look after him, big guy, can't miss him. Can you look after him in the mean time?" The supers looked terribly confused, but nodded and affirmed they'd take care of him. Richard made doubly sure that George would be in a slightly covered area first, off to the side, near the food vendors, to make sure he couldn't be hit. While there, he stealthily grabbed several bottles of water from unsuspecting merchants.


And from the food vending area, a light fog began to form, carried in by an abrupt cold wind. Richard bolted, hidden in the cover of the fog he created, to the building the sniper had been on top of, hoping and praying he could catch them in time. Once he was inside the building, he quickly made his way to an elevator, taking it to the highest floor he could. While inside, he reached into his suit jacket, and pulled Durendal from his holster. Out from another suit jacket pocket, he produced a silencer, and quickly screwed it onto the barrel of the pistol.


As the elevator reached the highest floor it could, he quickly made his way around the floor until he found a service area, and with it the rooftop service elevator. Richard placed an earpiece into one ear, quickly flickering it to life as he made a quick call out.


"Sairyn, I need eyes in the sky, we've got a sniper on top of the Galliant Office Building, right across from the Memorial. I need you to send a drone up here to try and track this guy before he gets away."


While he waited for a reply, he quickly dumped out several bottles of water onto the floor, stuffing one more full one in a jacket pocket, and holding the other in his left hand.


"He's got some kind of invisibility tech, but I've got an idea in mind." He took a pause before quickly putting out one more message. "Klaus, if you're receiving this, get to the top of the Galliant Building."


The elevator reached the roof, the doors opened, and a thick fog poured out onto the roof from within, quickly beginning to obscure visibility. Richard didn't have his music with him at the moment, but he couldn't help but have a song stuck in his head.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Silentium
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Henry dug in his pocket, when his phone started to ring. He'd forgotten to silence it, but luckily, the sound of the crowds chattering between speakers designed it to all but those closest to him.

"Hello? What's..." Henry paused, listening to the quick response from Richard. "Uh...that was one of my co-workers. Seems like the boss got sick," he informed his cousins. "I'll be right back!"

He had hoped at least. No rest for the weary it seemed. He looked around the memorial for the medical tent set up and headed there immediately once he spotted it.

"Excuse me, but do y'all have a George Carlisle here?" He inquired of the medical staff once he arrived.

***
Silentium mimed exhaling, an act of habit if anything. A miscalculation. The assumed super next to George...a bodyguard perhaps? Facial recognition scanners gave him no leads on traditional channels. Hyper-computing, he took a deeper dive. Credit cards, military records, anything he could narrow down, using thousands of parameters in mere seconds.

Richard Mackenzie. Canadian. Ex-Special Forces. Heavily classified. Nothing regarding powers or abilities, though he was certain to have them. No matter. No one else was alerted and it seemed only he had moved to act.

No cause for alarm just yet then. If this super were to engage him, were he even able to track him down, he'd be able to assess any danger and respond accordingly. He appeared to gave made several calls after securing the target with medical professionals. The crowd hadn't stirred much, so perhaps only a sparse few had been alerted.

Depending on their power sets, the hunt would still be on. A whole swarm of supers was an unsinkable situation, but a handful? That was a challenge.

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Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Klaus Zeit
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"Klaus, if you're receiving this, get to the top of the Galliant Building."

The voice came from the Chrono Dialer having been linked to his phone. Richard sounded worried and Klaus wasn't one to question a man like Richard's tone.

In a flash, he donned his suit and made for the Galliant Building. He had plenty of time to mull over his predicament later. For now, there was work to be done and the distraction was welcome.

"I'm on my way, ETA 2 minutes.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Akiko Bong Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death)
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"This is a crime scene," Yue replied simply, turning towards the new arrivals. Truth be told, she'd had the chilling sensation that they were being watched long before Maeve approached them. The vents on her mask opened momentarily, producing a quiet, but pointed hiss as air was rapidly drawn in. A subtle flicker of crimson electricity crawled its way up her body as she accelerated her perception as a precaution.

Yue held out her hand, and her badge was holographically projected onto it. It wasn't strictly necessary in this circumstance given that she was in full NAHLA regalia, but it was an excuse to have Tracer turn towards Maeve and the others, capture the vehicle's plate number, and run facial recognition silently in one corner of her HUD.

"These recruits are shadowing me on my investigation," she explained.
ELSEWHERE IN ATLAS CITY



Sairyn's phone rang, to which he gave a proper sigh before answering.

"Can't you follow simple directions?" He managed before he was assaulted by Richard's commands. He held the phone away from his ear, and rolled his eyes dramatically while Richard said some things... it was the polite thing to do. Apparently. "You've had drone support: I sent a Tracer ahead of you to the memorial. 'The fuck is a Galliant building?" he called to someone in the background.

"It's a big art-deco office tower over by where they're hosting the memorial, silly," Archer's voice answered, over the rough hiss of a cappuccino machine.

"Right. Anyway. Use the app I installed on your phone to direct the AI and stop using made-up words," he instructed, letting the phone float nearby as a new slate materialized to show Tracer's view of the memorial grounds and slowly floated into position next to the other three.

"I don't think y'all told them about the app, love," Archer chided, handing Sairyn a cup, which he accepted slowly.

"I installed an app on your phones so you can interface with the drones. Open it and let it run in the background, just be careful how you word your requests: one of the 'features' of the AI is that it tends to take the most literal translation," he said, sipping the dink noisily. He spit it out suddenly with a noise of disgust. "Are you trying to poison me?!"

"Doll, of course I am!" Archer giggled. "Ain't my fault your handwriting is trash." To which Sairyn answered with a long, awkward pause.

"Stick out your tongue. As far as it goes... Ugh. I forgot you could do that. I'm spoken for," he said, while Archer laughed in the background. "My attention is split three ways right now, you're gonna have to direct the drone yourself," he instructed, as he reached out and tapped one of the slates, slightly adjusting the image of a seemingly innocuous lamp post.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Cannonade Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape) Character Portrait: Klaus Zeit
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Medical Area: The Memorial

Upon hearing the tall man's request, several of the medical staff simply looked at him, blank faced. They were not prepared to tell an absolute stranger about patients they were caring for, and certainly not one that most of them weren't familiar with. Luckily, a hand rose out of the group of people to wave over to Henry. George stood, face grave and stony as he ushered Henry to join him.

Before the cosmic titan could ask anything of his new 'employer', George cast a pointer finger to his lips and led Henry to a part of the tent with fewer people, and less noise. "Thank you for coming Henry. There's been a... Complication today." He looked a little shaken, but not just because of the attempt on his life...

"Someone just tried to assassinate me. Richard has gone to try and catch the sniper, and I guess he hoped you'd be able to serve as protection for me." He looked to Henry and gave him a concerned smile. "For what it's worth, I don't feel quite as in danger with you here now. But we need to stay focused, figure out what to do about this right now."

__________________________________________________________________


Stage: The Memorial

As Cannonade finished their rousing speech, the crowd broke out into a raucous chant:

"Can-On-Ade!" Was how it started.

"Crim-Son-Shield!" Was how it was followed.

The two names continued to be chanted for a few moments, before they bled into chants of 'U-S-A', and other proud and patriotic cheers. The President stood, clapping profusely in his fit of enthrallment for the 'heroes of the city'. Victor and Claudia both found themselves clapping as well, though both less inwardly enthused. Claudia looked to Victor, trying to hold back a smirk.

"Looks like that idea just got flushed down the toilet." She teased nodding at Cannonade.

Victor only smiled and gave a slight shrug. "Mmm, I think it may still be too early to say. And at the very least, I still have other candidates I've got lined up." He pointed with his eyes in the direction of the newly rebranded 'Crimson Shield'.

"But... He's working for ACHI. I doubt they're gonna want to let him go."

"Who said anything about them letting him go? Don't forget my area of expertise as well Claudia, I'm a businessman first and foremost. I have a mutually beneficial business arrangement I think Ivetta will be pleased to hear."

Claudia nodded along. Victor probably had the budget afford trying to get the pilot on their payroll, but this all assumed they were willing to work with the government. Time would tell, she supposed.

"By the way Victor, what was all that about the 'Beast of America'?" She questioned, raising a curious eyebrow. "That's some pretty intense choice of wording there, not sure it's what our speech writer's would have come up with."

Victor turned his gaze back to Claudia again, the two of them now resuming their seats, the clapping having come to a close with the next speaker getting prepared. "Our enemies sent Hell itself to our shores. The people are absolutely terrified, and how could they not be? How do you stop being scared of monsters and beasts?"

Claudia stared back and sighed. "By becoming one?" She asked, already expecting the answer.

He chuckled in response before turning his gaze back out to the audience. "Don't worry about the speechwriters. It's going to become politically popular very soon, because for as angry as me, you, the President, or any of these heroes may say we are? None of us are more angry than America and her people."

Whilst heroes, politicians, and businessmen participated in the memorial, off to the side Douglas MacNamara flipped through a few messages on his phone. He looked up long enough to listen to Cannonade's speech, smirking a little to himself before going back to sending a reply text message. 'And a special team run by Super Roma's Number 1 no less. Interesting. Very interesting...' He thought to himself.

'One more thing to keep our eyes on.'

__________________________________________________________________


Club Shapeless: Atlas City

The door's of the meeting room opened gently, giving way to the sight of a masked figure standing on the other side.

The Shape.

There was the briefest moment of silence before he granted a bow of his head to Vicki Vortex. "Vicki, pleasure to see you again. Won't you come in?" He said indicating to the meeting room. Kiran was absent currently, but as Maxwell allowed the rocker in, retaking his own seat at the table, he set to work in assisting Miss Vortex in her task.

"Lab Rat isn't here at the moment, as you can see. But what is it you'd like to speak with them about? Perhaps there's some way I can be of assistance."


__________________________________________________________________


Roof of the Galliant Building: Atlas City

Richard's mouth swung open about as fast as Sairyn's had.

What was this guy's problem? Richard was about to snap something back at the guy, but bit his tongue on remembering that Sairyn was the one with the drone's that Richard currently needed. It wasn't made any easier though by the inclusion of unrequested software being sneakily put on his phone. Of course, this was ignoring all the data collecting software likely already on the phone when he bought it...

"Alright, alright, I got it. And the thing doesn't like 'made up words'? Is that supposed to be a special 'feature' or something?" He remarked mostly rhetorically. It was a slight dig, Richard found he couldn't help himself in the face of the tinker's choice of wording, which the icy hero found to be somewhat grating.

Richard pulled out his phone and started to get the software running, and once it was operational, he spoke some brief orders. "Uhh... Tracer; fly to the rooftop of the Galliant Building in Atlas City."

He heard some shouting from the other end of his earpiece, something about poison? "Are... You alright? What was that about a... Tongue?" He asked confused.


"I'm sorry, your request for 'tongue' cannot be completed as requested." Tracer chirped through his phone.

"Disregard that Tracer. Please come to the roof of the Galliant Building." He heard Klaus's voice come through the other end as well, and quickly muted his phone so Tracer wouldn't get any more confused.

"Thanks Klaus, see you shortly."

After he felt confident things were settled and that the drone was almost in position, Richard snuck out of the elevator and carefully made his way across the roof, with the thick, cool fog encompassing nearly the whole area. As it spread out over the roof, it began to leave a thin coating of frost on the surfaces it touched, giving them a slight glimmer.

Richard wasn't sure if his plan would work, but since he couldn't see someone that was invisible, he figured seeing something frost covered would at least bridge the disadvantage.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Silentium
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"Shouldn't we get you out of here?" Henry asked, glancing back cautiously. "We're not exactly out in the open, but if this assassin is bold enough to try and kill you in the midst of all these supers, you're probably still at risk."

***

"Ice Manipulation. Or perhaps weather?" a mechanical voice taunted from within the icy fog, emitting form a humanoid outline directly ahead of Richard. "It is no matter. I've dealt with others of your ilk before." the voice continued, now coming from Richard's right. "So who are you to Carlisle, boy? His bodyguard? You must be a recent acquisition of his, then. Nothing in his profile suggests he's employed anything of the sort before. But to the point!"

Richard would see a red dot line up to where his ribcage was, though the direction it was coming from was Richard's left. "How many other supers are in Carlisle's employ? How many are present at the Memorial? Answer quickly and concisely...unless you vastly prefer being left to bleed out on a roof."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death) Character Portrait: Klaus Zeit Character Portrait: Silentium
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Klaus raced to the top of the building, he knew Richard needed him, and he would be there to offer whatever support he could. He wasn't expecting to bust through the door that led to the rooftop and find Richard slowly trying to use his powers to "feel" out their enemy.

"Mind if I try?" he started, throwing a few disks across the gap between the highrises. If an enemy was there, displacing them out of time should render whatever cloaking they were using useless. There between flickers of time dilation, the pair could make out what looked to be a robot? it was a brief view as the disks short-circuited, there was likely an EMP field emitting from the robot but it was enough time to see what they were up against.

"There's your sniper, any ideas?" he took a stance to ready himself for the chase he expected was coming.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Henry Stewart Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Akiko Bong Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Sasha Belov Character Portrait: Richard Mackenzie (The White Death)
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Maxwell grinned under his mask at Vic's various remarks, a little amused by her candidness in what she had to say. "You know Miss Vortex, our resident tinker may be away, but I certainly think I could be of some assistance to you. Both in getting back your 'personal investment', and I suspect in many other things." His gaze was fixed on the rocker, considering her, and what she'd been through. She'd told him next to nothing, but she didn't have to. The Shape had seen plenty of performances before, and while her almost flippant behavior was authentic, Vicky Vortex was practically draped in pain.

"As for keeping my secrets Vicky, I'm not really worried about any of that. You don't seem the sort to burn bridges with friends, and I think you might be looking for some right now. Some resourceful, well connected friends."


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Richard stared down the glistening air, noticing a red dot now trained on him. "Carlisle? Oh he's my grandfather figure." He remarked sardonically to the sniper. Richard's right hand was tensing up, readying up as he responded again. "As for how many of us he's got around, that's need to know information. And you don't need to know. Though I have to ask; who hired you to kill some random, old billionaire, and why?"

Before an answer could be given, time began to skew around the sniper. Klaus had arrived, and not a moment too soon. "Appreciate the help! Now as for ideas..." Richard paused, finally being able to see glimpses of the enemy. A robot? Seriously? This was beyond anything he expected... But not something he was going to be any more intimated by.

"I've got a few." Richard grinned as the red dot swayed slightly. He flicked something with his right hand, and the red dot quickly separated into thousands of directions as it shone through a piece of glassy ice. Taking a dive to the side, Richard fired off a few shots at the robot, before tucking and rolling into cover. A few shots silently rang out from the sniper, but while Klaus made a few attacks of his own, Richard came back around in a full charge at his steely foe.


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George nodded stoically to Henry, though his eyes showed a certain dread, the realization of how precious a commodity time was, and how forces were now at play that sought to rob him of as much of it as possible. "We'll need to contact the others. Richard is going to try to subdue the shooter, but you're right, we need to get out of the city. I think it's finally time we made that trip out to sea..."

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THUD

CRACK

Richard's body slammed into a sheet of reinforced, skylight glass, causing the whole piece to buckle and crack. He gasped silently, his whole back searing in pain from where it connected with the skylight, his chest contracted and unable to move, incapable of taking in any air. Gripping onto the side of the angled surface, he steadied himself enough to roll off of the glass and onto the layer of concrete that made up the roof of an entirely different skyscraper. The fight had gone unexpectedly wrong when the assassin grabbed Richard and threw him from the roof of the Galliant building, and onto whichever building he was on now.

His whole body shook violently as the realization came over him of just how close to death he had been. The assassin made a miscalculation, a mistake. Had he thrown him in a different direction, or with less strength, it would have been pavement Richard was landing on. Finally, his chest managed to release from its contraction, and deep, shaky breaths returned to him as he gulped up as much air as his lungs could handle.

Laying prone, resting his forearms on the ground for support, Richard slowly rolled himself over onto his aching back, gazing unsteadily into the bright blue sky above him. There was rapid, unintelligible chatter come through his comms device, something about the other group being attacked by some villains? An explosion at the mansion? Needing to retreat? His brain couldn't make any sense of it, so he pulled the device from his ear and decided to just lay there.

Just 10, maybe 15 minutes. 20 tops. He just needed a second. He just needed some Time.



To Be Continued.

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