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Y'mari Abara

"You will not see me. I will sunder you."

0 · 127 views · located in Atlas City

a character in “Hadean”, as played by StorminJericho

Description

Y'mari Abara


Image
(Art credit goes to: BuffShiro)



Opening Dossier for: Y'mari Abara, code-named: Nebulae Recluse.


Full Name: Y'mari Lee Abara.
Codename: Nebulae Recluse.
Age: 29. (Unconfirmed, check with Detective Richards for further clarification.)
Gender: Male.
Ethnicity: South African, born in Johannesburg, South Africa. (Unconfirmed, check with Detective Richards for further clarification.)


Hair: Black, long curly twists.


Eye color: Honey Brown, tends to glow as if back-lit by a lamp. Witnesses claim they glow in the dark.


Body Type: Mesomorph. Witnesses claim that "Recluse" is well built, athletic, and fairly strong. Boots-on-ground reports state that "Recluse" was capable of bodily lifting officer Mitts. Mitts is recorded at weighing 193 pounds.

Height: While in costume, "Recluse" is recorded at standing upwards of Six feet and nine inches, or two hundred and five point seven four centimetres. (205.75 cm).
Out of costume is relatively unknown, estimated at [b]Six feet and six inches
or one hundred and ninety five point five eight centimetres. (195.58)

Weight: Unknown.

Hometown: Johannesburg, South Africa. (Unconfirmed, check with Detective Richards for further clarification.)

Affiliations: At this time of writing, unknown, nothing has been confirmed. Check with Detective Richards for further clarification.

Personality: Appears to be focused and goal orientated, reports have shown that "Recluse" actively avoids civilians. Claims have been put forth that "Recluse" is prone to outbursts of wrath when "interrupted." Command advises heavy force on sight, "Recluse" is responsible for the termination of fourteen officers, three border patrol agents, and well over five hundred thousand dollars ($500,000) of property.




Likes, Dislikes, and Habits: "Recluse" has been shown to exhibit the following observed habits, among witness claims.
Likes ice cream.
Likes snow.
Likes thunderstorms. (Observe incident report: 'Misaligned'.)
Likes crocodiles. (Unconfirmed.)
Dislikes cats.
Dislikes pizza.
Dislikes interruptions.
Dislikes authority.

Habitual smoker.
Exhibits a refusal to be without costume. Assume rarity to encounter "Recluse" without costume.
Exhibits a fear of spiders. (Unconfirmed, presume guesswork of Detective Richards.)




Skills:
- Close quarters Combat, incorporating knife, baton, and basic kick-boxing.
- Exhibited remarkable 'free-running' aptitude. Has been shown to be capable of outrunning officers.
- Exhibited remarkable improvisation. (Officer Davis and Officer Jameston can attest.)
- Exhibited remarkable bodily control. Has been observed performing bodily feats of notable flexibility and control.


Costume Identity: Nebulae Recluse, Spatial Storm. (Aliases given by NAHLA operatives, public also refers to suspect by aliases.)
{COSTUME SHOWN HERE; UNKNOWN COSTUME COMPOSITION; PRESUMED ARMOR}
Image
Equipment: Unknown, "Recluse" has been shown to be on scene with whatever equipment suspect has deemed necessary. Does not appear to have any particular attachment to equipment. (Unconfirmed, check with Detective Richards for further clarification.)




{POWERS:}

Electrokinetics/Electromancy: {BLASTER 7} "Recluse" has been shown to exhibit the ability to generate and manipulate high powered bolts of electricity, up to a current record of 90 meters (300 feet). It should be noted that suspect is relatively flexible in what he is capable of doing with said bolts of electricity, and that the discharged bolts show no adherence to laws of physics. Bolts will curve, spiral, hover, and even move 'slowly' if and when suspect wants them to. Suspect has been noted to have what appear to be ring shaped planes of light and heat surround it's wrists when utilizing its electrical power-suite. Correlation between stronger discharges and brighter, larger, and more 'audible' rings has been noted as well.
Suspect has shown to have a seemingly greater understanding of his surroundings and of surrounding electrical fields. (Unconfirmed, further observation required.)

Spatialkinetics/Spatialmancy: {SHAKER 8} Arguably the most problematic power-suite the suspect has exhibited, "Recluse" has been shown to cause "fields of nebula, the void, and stars," to appear, disappear and move at will. These fields are shown to exhibit a 'warping' effect on the area they inhabit. For instance, if used on a section of asphalt measuring 3 meters by 3 meters, the field is capable of stretching that portion of asphalt into a measurement of 9 meters by 9 meters, or anything inbetween. This effect has been shown to only 'work' on inorganic matter, and only within the reach of the field. It should be noted that when the field vanishes, the effect is reversed, and the affected area returns to normal.
The fields also exhibit the capability of causing any visible 'stars' within the field to 'burst', causing inorganic material to warp and 'become like dirt struck by a raindrop.'
These 'burst' effects have been noted to cause harm by trapping feet and otherwise relative body-parts to become trapped by liquid-like solids.
It should further be noted that "Recluse" is capable of utilizing both its electric power-suite and its spatial power-suite in tandem, but will be highly visible and 'audible' whilst doing so.

Acting forces should be aware that "Recluse" is highly dangerous and notably lethal while using the suites in tandem, and should be treated with utmost caution. "Recluse" is, and almost seems to exclusively, capable of murder. "Recluse" also appears to be capable of a small burst of purple and gold tinted light-based energy. It is unknown at current what this 'energy' does, but it has been shown to cause minor burns and is, in fact, capable of blinding acting forces for short periods of time.

{WEAKNESSES}: "Recluse" is notably weak when in close quarters with acting forces. This becomes especially apparent when confronted with other superpowered individuals. "Recluse" exhibits a staggering weakness when other superpower-suites engage him in close quarters combat, with his powers quickly becoming less and less lethal. It has been reported by acting agents that "Recluse" appears to immediately retreat when approached by opposition.
It should also be noted that "Recluse" seems to be distinctly lacking in any sort of durability beyond what is human baseline.
Of further note is "Recluse's" inability to utilize either of his power-suites if he cannot speak, and if his hands are incapable of movement.

"Recluse" also seems to have a time limit on his power-suites. (Unconfirmed, further observation necessary.)
"Recluse" has a tertiary power that allows him to project blasts of otherwise unknown 'energy'. These blasts are capable of causing minor burns and short-term blindness in acting forces, demonstrating an ability to overcome flash-nullification hardware. The blindness seems to last for at most ten (10) seconds.



History, as documented by Detective Keith Richards: Relatively unknown to current intelligence officers.
Y'mari Abara arrived in Atlas City in 2028 with little to no warning whatsoever, and with no prior connections before hand. In fact, as far as intelligence is concerned, Abara seems to have just... Manifested. As if from thin {LANGUAGE REDACTED} air. His history is unknown to me at the time of dossier production, and while I find this aggravating, it should be noted that Araba isn't a complete blank body. We were able to get into contact with a family member of his here in Atlas City. Araba's family member agreed to talk to me if I agreed to NOT document their assistance in his case.

Araba apparently gained his powers in a super related incident in 1999, reportedly as a result of unknown tinkers who gathered together in Araba's hometown of Johannesburg, and began trying to hold certain neighborhoods hostage. According to Araba's family member, the tinker group would quickly find themselves under attack by a group of vigilante supers.
It was bloody. And brutal. Apparently the mother and father of the Araba household were killed in the subsequent combat, and "Recluse" triggered as a result. According to the family member, "Recluse" leveled their neighborhood and "swallowed those men beneath the concrete." As to what this means is unknown.
The family member was placed in foster care, and arrived in the United States in 2009 through all the proper channels. Apparently, the last they saw of Araba, he was talking about "The stars, and the secret they gave him." What this means is not known to the family member.
That's... All I've got. It's a frustrating thing. Araba arrived in costume, it should be noted, and I've got no damn idea how he came into possession of it. The way the family member was describing his 'swallowing of those men' is incongruent his known power-suite, and his shown capabilities.
And that 'energy' stuff that he throws around in close quarters? No idea what that's all about either.

I've been trying to work with NAHLA here, hell I even tried to contact the 'werewolf' woman. Nothing from her either. I doubt she even remembers my attempts at contact. NAHLA has been as helpful as they can be, so I'm grateful for that. I'm worried about this one getting swept up into one of the resident criminal orgs...
Anyways.
Signing off now,
Detective Keith Richards, Atlas City PD.

Closing Dossier...

So begins...

Y'mari Abara's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Maxwell Landon (The Shape) Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Maeve Butler Character Portrait: Silentium Character Portrait: Ezekiel "Zeke" Walker Character Portrait: Gideon Gauss Character Portrait: Scourge Character Portrait: Y'mari Abara
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Atlas City, North Carolina, Memorial Day, The Beach




The trio of chimes from his helmet HUD is what first caught his attention, his head swinging to the left as he watched the empty beach. A warning about a spatial anomaly some eight yards away. Alas...
Nothing.
Though his HUD kept chiming at him for a time, eventually it quieted down, and Nebulae Recluse huffed before resuming his walk. The sunlight and gentle crash and rush of the waves were soothing enough, and as Recluse looked out over the coast, he let himself smile. The memorial was today, and while he was wary to go and take part in the proceedings of the event, he certainly was enjoying the lack of people milling about.
His armor shifted silently as he walked along, the gloves and heeled 'boots' creaking and crackling with faint bits of static electricity.

He grunted his dissent at the sparks and cracks, rolling his eyes before simply continuing along. The pier was quickly falling into the distance behind him, and as Recluse continued to meander his way away from civilization behind him, he stretched his arms and took a glance over his shoulder.
No one following him yet, it seemed like.
Which was appreciated.

"Hm. Chart route to ah... Hm. Cancel that. I'll find my way." He sighed as the HUD AI chirped an affirmative, and once again went silent. To any outside observer, the sleek blue, black, and cyan armor pivoted on a heel and began walking inland, returning to the city. More than a few minutes were spent silently walking, chuckling when some people would stop, point, and then turn to dart off in another direction. Others would simply ignore him and keep walking, perhaps unaware of his infamy, or uncaring of it. It didn't matter regardless, as he eventually found the alleyway he wanted.
A few quick turns, a brisk climb up a fire escape, and warping of said fire escape within a field of stars and a purple-gold-orange cloud of space dust, and Recluse was where he wanted to be. Namely on the roof of his apartment building. He walked to the edge of the roof, humming some small song under his breath as his hands came up and tapped along the back of his helmet.

The HUD AI chirped at him again, flashing a quick display before it quieted and went dark, his vision blocked by the no-longer operating helmet. There was a quick pop, a hiss, and a gasp as the piece of armor came off his head.
It came to rest on the edge of the roof, the raised heels of his boots slowly smoothing out across the soles of the boots. He was high enough that he was able to pass a curious eye over the nearby Club Shapeless.
His eyes roamed over the building, taking especial note of the relatively obvious scorch marks in the parking lot from a recent... Explosion. Y'mari popped a laugh at the memory. Ahhh...

He shrugged and rolled his neck, leaning on the edge of the roof and elected to simply watch the Club, a sort of bored bird watching. He had absolutely nothing to do today, and if the other night was anything to go by, the club was bound to be interesting.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Y'mari Abara
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Vic's brow twitched irritably as she heard Scourge's laughter seeping through closed doors. She was sprawled out across the bar like a mangy cat, nursing the crushed hand she didn't let Kiran anywhere near with tequila. She took in a half-hearted gulp, most of it dribbling down her cheek and stinging all the cuts. She turned her head and saw her reflection in all the bottles on the counter. The puncture wounds that needed new stitches. The lacerations on her face from charging out a window into a seventeen story drop. The burn on her back, the broken fingers, all her bruises were so numerous they were joining forces into one big hive mind. Trade out the miserable expression for some kind of troublemaking smirk and she'd still be fuckable, Vic thought as she prodded and distorted her face flesh.

She hung around until she heard one more guffaw from the Supervillain Mafia meeting happening next door then swung herself up with a grunt. She shuffled her cigarettes out her pocket and trudged outside to get buy a lighter and ponder over how she'd dropped a tracking chip down into the core of Lab Rat's abode.

It'd probably be the only place they wouldn't be able to find it, she thought outside, a now-smoking cigarette between her teeth and beanie dragged low over her face. It's a Tinker's lair, with all the magical bullshittery that entailed. It'd be the safest place for her to hide if there wasn't a psychopath ruling it.

Smoke trailed up over her head along with her last sensible thought.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Y'mari Abara
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Nebulae or Y’mari as he tried to remind himself, since he wasn’t wearing the helmet of his suit right now. Regardless, he was watching the Club Shapeless with a disinterested eye for a time, simply standing or leaning on the ledge of the rooftop he stood watch upon.
His interest was quickly piqued as he watched a young woman step out from the club, red hair catching the light and cigarette held in her lips.

A snort left him, and in a spur of the moment decision, he turned and grabbed his helmet. Once again it came down onto his head, and his vision filled with the soothing lights and layout of his HUD.
‘Jakarta’, the in helm pseudo-AI, chirped a cheery ‘Hello USER’ at him. Nebulae chuckled a baritone “Hello Jakarta. Chart me a route to Home Five, please. And set me a timer for ah… Thirteen minutes. Volume of two. Alarm setting of four. Thank you.

The AI beeped pleasantly at him, and he watched as overlays quickly formed on the display. He turned on his heel, rising up into the air by an inch or three as the heels of his boots extended. A soft sigh later, and without hesitation, Nebulae was swiftly approaching the club. His strides carried him over to the woman, and as he approached, his voice floated out into the air. The bruises and … general everything of the redhead before him took him by mild surprise, but alas, who was he to judge? However, he definitely was one to question.

Always five o’clock’ somewhere, no? Why do you drink so early?

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Y'mari Abara
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Vic deliberately nudged over the bottle beside her feet. Its contents spilled out into the gutters. She kept her chin down, hoping the beanie and bruises would disguise her well enough. She inwardly lamented her inability to stand in an alleyway without some dude ambushing her.

"Bit of a fucking personal question, isn't that?" she shot. She pushed herself off the wall and went to remove her cigarette with her dominant, decimated hand, then switched hands with a flinch and went swaggering back to the door.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Alexander Dalton Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Akiko Bong Character Portrait: Y'mari Abara
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Nebulae blinked at the woman as she turned to leave, chuckling softly and speaking up to her back in response. "Oi, oi, oi. I apologize. Look, 'm just a curious sort of person, aye? How 'bout I buy you a drink? I was thinkin' of headin' in for one myself." He paused, tilting his head as he fired off another question to the red-headed woman's back. "I'm assumin' you don't work here though... But since you're in the alleyway smokin', and you uh... Look like hell put through a speed washer, I'm gonna start assumin' you do?"

His HUD flashed an alert as he spoke to her, a brief text message from a sender named 'Ashanti'. His eyes rolled, and with a mild twitch of the head, the message collapsed and vanished away from sight. Hm.
Ah well. More important things to focus on. Like the woman who appeared to want nothing more than to walk back inside. And... Who's hand was fucked. Up.




Jemma raced through the skies ever so high above the highway, following the black, asphalt path back to Atlas City. Two pairs of wings beat in tandem as she flew, the 'back' pair smaller than the ones in front. Her skull was in the shape of some bird of prey, perhaps an eagle- perhaps a falcon- and though she should have feathers, her body was coated in chitin that was ever so thin. Her body was a sleek, powerful thing, and even if her body had no feathers, her wings certainly did. She was just barely bigger than a Mastiff, though she was certainly leaner in this form.

She flew onward though, tracing her thoughts back to Alex and Saiyrn in the lab. They had filled her in, and told her what she had missed in quiet sentences. Alex had barely dropped the bubble before Jemma was in his face, hands and claws and tendrils slapping, scratching, and tugging on his unaffected body. "I'm so going! I have to! I can't stay here one second longer! I. Need. To. See. Our. HOME!" She had practically screamed at Alex, her form shaking with just barely restrained energy. He had only gotten the 'Okay but-' of his sentence out before she had turned and bolted off. Ink swelled around her form as she moved, and the moment her body was outside, she launched into the air with no hesitation.

And so, she flew, screaming her delight happily into the wind for absolutely none but herself to hear. A pair of eyes on her underside blinked, tracking the stretch of roadway beneath her before closing tightly as she dove into a cloud.
Jemma spun, tucking her wings tight against her body as she dove towards the ground. The eyes upon her skull darted about as she took in the sprawl of Atlas City before her. With a mighty screech, a spray of spittle, and the pulse of joy in her body; Jemma's wings flung themselves open. She was moving faster now, far faster than powered flight could take her, so she glided forth on her own momentum. The eyes on her underside flicked open once again, and as she coasted around Atlas City for a bit, she caught sight of a few familiar bodies and faces.

She was glad for the eyesight of an eagle, and oh so happy that she had four pairs of eyes looking in four separate places. Though she was also partially sad that none could see her, not really, as she had a pretty strong feeling that the movement of the eyes would be... Unnerving for most.
Regardless! There! Was the one named 'Silver Fang'. She was... Familiar, at least, sort of? Ah, who cared.


Not but fifteen feet behind Yue, a massive, five foot tall shard of bone, meat, and metal slammed into the pavement with all the forewarning of an assassination. The shard cracked on impact, pulsed with ink, vanished in a blink, and revealed the shape of Jemma's humanoid form.
She flashed a smile with a maw filled with shark-like fangs, and let a long, black, forked tongue loll out and taste the air. "Hello! I am here to help!"

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 Character Portrait: Akiko Bong Character Portrait: Kiran Kingsley Character Portrait: Maeve Butler Character Portrait: Silentium Character Portrait: Albrecht von Richthofen Character Portrait: Ezekiel "Zeke" Walker Character Portrait: Gideon Gauss Character Portrait: Jamie Kerrow Character Portrait: Scourge Character Portrait: Y'mari Abara
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Club Shapeless: Atlas City
Maxwell chuckled slightly at Scourge’s response, nodding in affirmation. “I have every faith you’re all the most capable people that could be put to this task. Just ‘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. “Thank 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. “Hold 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.


“Apparently this company, Menagerie Tech, has had an issue lately with a ‘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. “There’s no doubt of quite a handsome reward for helping reunite them with their lost ‘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. “That’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 ‘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 ‘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.


“How does the suit fit ?” George asked quietly of Richard.


Richard nodded an affirmation before he spoke. “Quite 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. “Actually 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.


“You 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. “Really? And what do you suppose you should all be called?”


Richard shrugged. “No 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. “No, while I might be your ‘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 “Proud 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.


“My 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. “We 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 ‘adventures’ they hadn’t heard of though, the kinds of which Valor and Lonestar would both ensure were taken with them to the grave…


“All 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 “Courtesy 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.


“My fellow Americans…” he started. “This 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. “But 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 ‘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. “Thank 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. “As 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. “Again, 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. “For 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…

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Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Y'mari Abara
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Vic stopped, tilted her head back, and let out a high-pitched wheeze out of her nostrils. About as thin as her patience. Persistent. All these strangers were so damn persistent. Whether it was paparazzi or the stranger on her doorstep insisting on making her breakfast or STAs or - whatever the hell this one wanted. They all treated her as clumsily as a toddler with the family cat.

"It's closed," she replied, "Staff meeting." Her head lazily tilted back to him. "No, I don't work here." A pause. Vic looked up at the club's sign, looking remarkably unglamorous in the light of day. Her brow furrowed. "I'm... thinking about it."

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Devon Metzger Character Portrait: Jericho Amile Character Portrait: Sheri Galloway Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Yue Bayushi Character Portrait: Akiko Bong Character Portrait: Maeve Butler Character Portrait: Ezekiel "Zeke" Walker Character Portrait: Scourge Character Portrait: Y'mari Abara
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Nebulae blinked behind his helmet, watching as the woman before him spoke in calm, if irritated sentences. He hummed gently before shrugging and rolling his shoulders. "Well... Hm! I hope you get the job then, yeah?"

A smile spread behind his helmet as he shifted his weight to one side, his hands finding his hips as Nebulae spoke again. His eyes darted to one side of his HUD as the P-AI chirped at him yet again. Movement from somewhere just out of sight, around the corner? A vehicle. The thing was nearly silent, and eerily quiet as it went. "Well... I think someone just left from the establishment. So, if you're goin' to go back in, I suggest goin' in now before you have to chase 'em down, yeah?" He took a step back, nodding at her hand as he went to turn away. "'Ere, I'll hand y' my number if you ever wanna cash in on that drink, yeah?"
He had paused, tapping a pocket on his ... Jacket? Would you call it a jacket? Or was it more of a coat? ... His coat. Nebulae reached in and produced a relatively small card, perhaps like a business card. On it was a cell-number, and a name: Y'mari.

He stepped back then, waving once before quickly taking his leave. "Sorry for botherin' you, jus' curious, like I said!"





Jemma jerked to attention as a voice rasped at the group of them from some distance away. Ink pulsed in her face and hands as she looked over at the- Oh! It was her! The brutal murderess, the slaughtermaster, the hot one! ... Save that thought for later. In the current moment, adrenaline throbbed through her veins, and the world began to slow in that weird way it did when she fought.

Jemma watched her approach all the same, the muscles under her face warping and changing as her tongue became a hallow tube, in which resided a needle of iron and bone. The needle had grooves inlaid upon it, and venom eerily similar to that of a bullet ant filled the grooves. Her hands became armored, talons taking place of her nails as she stared at the eerily tall woman. Her voice worked without her wanting, calling out to the short redhead. "Tall and Irish was at the beach! Do not trust. Threat high. She tore apart many of the small beastlings. With ease" The last word was hissed with a strange sort of... Relish, excitement, maybe even a bit of admiration. Ink rippled along her back as she spoke, and what started as only bone, soon covered itself in flesh, and then in iron and brass, was a wickedly tipped tail. It was as long as the tall woman was tall, and from its tip dripped a black-red venom.

She dropped into an odd stance beside Yue, tail lashing to and fro with unmistakable mistrust, tension building in her muscles as she waited for 'the other boot to drop' as Alex put it. The heart in her form was beginning to pound ever faster, and the want to touch on that cicada-scream was building, but Jemma held off. If they needed aid, she didn't want to cut off that chance. Not yet.

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Character Portrait: Vicki Vortex Character Portrait: Y'mari Abara
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"... Alrighty." Vic said as she pocketed the business card in the same pocket George's number resided. She watched the strange man take his leave and huffed. "Nobody knows how to pick up a bitch anymore." She slithered her way back into the club and marched up to the meeting room door to give it three loud bangs of her fist. "Hey, is Lab Rat still in?"