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Arctic Wolf

"I'm a monster, I know it already, so stay away or maybe I'll accidently chew your face off."

0 · 359 views · located in Earth

a character in “The Midnight Society.”, originally authored by Lyysa, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

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Name
Vincent


Alias
Arctic Wolf, or at other time just Arctic or Wolf alone. It's not Vincent that came up with the name, it's just something people started calling him because of his white hair and how he dress.


Age
25


Face Claim
Heine Rammsteiner




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Negative Traits
- Sadist, Vincent is in love with blood and violence. If there is something he truly enjoys it's to deal other's great pain, it gives him such a satisfaction that nothing can be compared to it. He loves everything from ending other's in just one second to watch how they struggle to stay alive for hours. There is nothing compared to it, well the only thing that could get close to it is the feeling he gets as he gets hit.
- Antisocial personality disorder, Vincent has never cared much for what other's think. What the norms says doesn’t touch him the slightest and neither does other's rights either. He cares about himself and himself only. He doesn’t feel guilt and neither does he have the emotion of sympathy.
- Unfriendly, If he don't like you he won't be playing charades just to put up a facade of friendliness. No, he doesn’t bother with things like that, if he dislikes you he will show it.
- Negative attitude, There isn't much that Vincent thinks positive of. No most of the time you will find him muttering about how bad everything is, at least those time he's forced to leave the things he cares about.
- Cocky, In the world of Vincent he is the king and everyone else is peasants. Even if he isn't such a big talker there is one thing he likes to talk about - himself. Most of the time it's bragging about how great he is, mostly to hide the fact that he hate himself most of all. He tries to fool not only himself but all the others that he is the greatest monster alive.
- Trust problems, Vincent has an extremely hard time to trust new people. He always suspects them to stab him in the back, not that it would matter much, but he's afraid of getting hurt again and that is why he hides behind extremely high walls. Inside those he's just that small child crying after someone to actually like or accept him.

Positive Traits
- Confident, Even if this is the only charade he ever plays is mostly to protect himself. Because on the inside he's too insecure about everything. But on the outside you will only see someone that believes in themselves.
- Loyal, If you gain his trust you will have it forever. Vincent is the most loyal friend you could find, he will stand by your side through it all and do anything to protect you. As long as he don't see you betray him with his own eyes he will never believe the tales, he will label it as false because your words are all he believes in.
- Organized, Vincent doesn’t like chaos when at home. When being normal he wants everything neatly put on shelf’s in alphabetical and color order. He would clean the house by himself if he must. He likes to surround himself with order so that his thoughts don't get out of hand either.
- Brave, There isn't much for an almost indestructible man to fear. He would rush head on right into a bullet storm if he had to without even blinking.
- Calm, Vincent doesn’t get worked up over much things in his ordinary life. He prefers a calm state of mind and that is why he keeps too it, people can scream or cry all they want he wouldn't join them. His calmness could be taken as apathy too. And it probably a little bit why he don't get worked up over small things.
- Reliable, Even if you haven't gained his trust you may have gained his approval which means that he will be there for you to some degree. At least when at work. He would never disobey order's if he hasn't lost his mind and even if he has most of the time he acts reckless just because there is someone that gain from it - no, most of the time not Vincent himself. He would protect most teammates, at least as long as they keep themselves on his good side.



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Likes
- Guns
- Candy
- All types of animals but favorite must be hamsters
- Reading
- The color red
- Pain, both causing and receiving
- Roses
- Blood spill
- Alone time
- Clever people
- Starry nights

Dislikes
- Humans
- Death
- Himself
- Sunny weather
- Childish behavior
- Monster movies/stories
- Remembering the past
- Footballs
- White
- People calling him by his so called alias
- People trying to get too close to him

Fears
- Death, the thought of death is extremely surreal for Vincent. He can't picture how it is to almost die or how it would feel. Even though he shouldn't fear it because of his ability he does anyway. And just because of his ability he fears it even more actually.
- New people, Vincent has never been a fan of meeting new people. If he got to choose he would probably never meet anyone new. He would be completely alone and enjoy it.
- Suffocating, Vincent's one true weakness. His body can't make up for the loss of air, that is not something the body can create by its own. He fears the feeling of not being able to breath, to know that he's not that indestructible as he may think. The thought of entering a different world he doesn't know of scares him a lot.
- Large crowds, at least without his guns. It makes him feel vulnerable, it makes him remember how it was before. He start's to feel small, despised, different and like he is going to cry. It makes him turn into what he once was, that little crybaby being labeled as a monster.

Strength
Close range combat, preferably with his guns but if not he takes what he got. Even his own teeth if it comes to that.
Extremely brutal
Aroused by pain, both receiving and dealing. When getting hit it will only make Vincent a fiercer enemy, it makes him enjoy the moment even more. So don't get surprised if you find him smiling at times like that.

Weakness
Lack of trust
Unwillingness to work together, at least with the people he finds disturbing.
Solo act, if he gets to lost in the moment - aroused, he can make some rather reckless decisions. Even if they weren't a part of the plan from the beginning.


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Apperance
Noticed the white hair didn't you? Yes, Vincent is indeed an albino. He has white hair, pale skin with blue eyes. Eyes as blue as a glacier, it's like staring into pure ice. Other than that it's nothing that really stands out about his appearance, he's not unusually tall or muscular. He doesn't look like some giant. He's just average, sure he looks fit but that's all. He doesn’t really prioritize strength over agility. One thing most people notice is that his skin is unusual smooth, he don't have even the tiniest scar on it. But if he would undress in front of you something would stand out like an ink spot on a white paper - he has a tattoo on his right shoulder. It's not large, not in some fancy colors. It's just pitch black, but against his white skin it jumps right out at you. The tattoo is just a plain dragonfly.

When it comes to how he usually dresses he doesn’t really have a fancy suite like most people doing what he does. No he's too cool for those things (not really he's just a lame dude thinking he is). What's he's known for are his white hair and a white leather jacket. Probably not the best choice of color when you take his occupation in consideration but he thought it would be good to just sort of have an image and his image is plain white. His pants are white as well. A color without any real statement but innocent in his opinion - until you paint it. Which is exactly was he does. With his own blood though.

Weight
157

Height
6'


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Infamy
Vincent is a mercenary for hire, he don't do plans and such things. He doesn’t really have the mind for such things. He just acts out what other wants him to do whatever it will be. Usually he don't do bank robberies though, he mostly handle murders or things like that. So yes he could probably be called an assassin if he was actually good at things like that, he don't do sneaky stuff remember? He barges into things so something like assassin doesn’t really fit. He does massacres mostly.

However, the thing Vincent is known for is not his skills! Sure, he's good at his massacre stuff but isn't every lunatic that? The thing Vincent is known for is being somewhat of an urban legend. Most people don't know it's him it's about, they just think it's a made up story. But this is how the story goes:

A man dressed in white got shot by a police officer, they shot him right through the head and he was declared dead. The man was put into a body bag after that and everything seemed normal at that point. But! When they were supposed to start to transport the body away from the scene something terrifying happened. The bag suddenly moved as if the body inside sat up. The people who were there got hysterical, some shouted things about it being the end of the world and that zombies would invade them. But when they finally opened the bag to look at what had happened inside they found a completely normal and healthy young man. Sure a bit bloody but nothing other than that. The people who were there taking part of the event was so shocked that they weren't able to do anything when the man simply stood up and walked away as if nothing had happened at all.

History
Birth name: Иван Драгомиров (Ivan Dragomirov)
Vincent, or well Ivan as he used to be called by his parents, was born in Russia. How did he end up in America? Well, it's kind of a long story. A sad one about a child who was despised by most humans and got abducted by an organization because of his special abilities.

Because of his appearance he wasn’t that popular with the kids. He was bullied, the kids thought he was scary with his white hair and crystal clear blue eyes. They called him a monster and he grew up thinking he was one. He didn't have any friends, he was weak at time and a big crybaby. He was just so different and no one could understand his feelings. The parents knew about his powers but they choose to ignore it, it was scary and something unknown, how were they supposed to act? It was their child, but he didn't look like them and he was different from all the other. He was a freak but they had no idea that there were more of them. Vincent always knew they also thought of him as a monster deep down at the darkest places of their hearts.

When he was five he got proof of that, he got a little brother. And the parents loved him, Vincent? They forgot about him and he hated that little ugly thing. He was completely alone, that’s when his hate for humans started. Because he wasn’t human, the kids had always told him that and his family looked at him with the same gaze as the kids. And if he was a monster, why would he like the humans that despised him? No he hated them, and that hate just grew and grew until he couldn't think of anything else.

But how does this organization I mentioned fit into all of this? I will get to that part now. When he was seven, he was still bullied by the kids his age. Actually he didn't exist in his class, his classmates treated him like air. But one day some boys from his class just couldn't stand him anymore – or why they did it he doesn’t know, but he likes to think of it that way. But like all the lunch breaks Vincent was by himself, just kicking his football at the wall when those boys came up to him and started shouting. They called him things and just kept on yelling, when he didn't respond one of them took the football and threw it out from the schoolyard. Vincent who had bought it on his own panicked and ran after to catch it. Guess what? Yeah the school had a big street beside it and just when Vincent had caught the ball in the middle of it a car came around the corner and it hit him really bad. Everyone thought he was going to die, an ambulance was there just a moment later but something was strange. He didn't look that bad like the crying person on the phone has described him. And when he arrived at the hospital he had only bruises.

That’s when the organization came to the rescue, they told the hospital lies, they told so many lies. Actually, Vincent never saw his parents and little brother again. He never had a chance to say goodbye or even give them one last hug – not that he cared about that. The organization told the parents that Vincent had died in the accident, of course they cried but deep down it was a relief. Finally the family’s big secret was gone, they could live like normal people do again.

The organization was called dragonfly, the tattoo on his shoulder is just a statement. To show him that he's their property. He belonged to that organization, he was their tool and slave for many years to come. What fascinated them the most was Vincent's body itself, he was a test subject. They used him and his DNA to try and find a way how to give all their subjects his ability. No, the organization was not trying to save the world. They weren't that nice at all. They hurt their subjects more than learn them when they "taught" them. In the end the organization was closed down. Well it was more like a huge battle that took place inside their base, the "good" guys, the superheroes, has found them finally and planned to make it end. It did. But everyone that had been brainwashed by Dragonfly was let out into the world without knowing where they belonged.

Vincent just sort of ended up in America, how and why is not something he can answer. At that point he was still too cloudy from the drugs he had been given. When he was supposed to start his new life he took a new name as well. He had never really liked the name Ivan and surely he didn't like being called a number like it was inside Dragonfly. He just felt like calling himself Vincent from now on. And the only thing he knew how to do was how to survive and kill others so that's why he ended up doing that.



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ImagePower Description
Vincent is what you can call a fast healer, it doesn’t matter how much you hurt him his body heals itself much faster than how it is for a normal human. How fast the body heals itself depends on how grave the damage is however. If you cut him with a knife you won't even manage to finish the damage before the skin is already back to normal. When it comes to bullet wounds they usually take half a minute to vanish, if it's the vital organs that have received the damage it does take a bit more time however. A clear shot to the head right through the brain takes about half an hour to get back to normal, as the body recreates itself he is unconscious.

Power Weaknesses
You may think Vincent is immortal but he's not. To kill him you must choke him, drown him or crush his body completely turning him into a bloody soup. Burning wouldn't actually work since the body would persist to heal the wounds the fire would create but that would be extremely painful for him because there would be no end to it until the fire has died out.

Another weakness about his power is that that his body can't adjust itself, so if he breaks a bone and it's placed the wrong way it will simply put itself together the wrong way as well. He need to adjust such things by himself or get help by someone. Something he really needs help with is taking out bullets from his body. If they don't go straight through him they stay inside him. The body just grows around them, however that would sting for him so he usually wants to get them removed. Some he can take out by himself, as long as he can reach and see them but it's impossible for him to take out bullets from the back of his body.

Equipment
Vincent owns a white Mauser C96 pistol connected to his belt by a long chain attached to the base of the grip. He often uses the chain for close range combat, choking or restraining opponents with it. And the other one is a black Luger P08 pistol, without a chain. Both of them is semi-automatic. Yes he prefers guns, they're totally badass (no).

So begins...

Arctic Wolf's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mistress Mania Character Portrait: Twisted Cheshire Character Portrait: Dr Grav Character Portrait: Arctic Wolf Character Portrait: Stretch Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Lyysa
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Like any good mercenary Vincent had no true address where he belonged, no place he called home. He moved around a lot, from place to place. More like from some shelter to another. And it wasn't really because he was a "true" mercenary with no strings attached to anything that he lived that way. It was because he simply was unable to find a place to live, it was hard being a Russian sort of illegal immigrant without a proper work or papers. He was homeless. But not by choice. The money he did make didn't end up being savings for some sort of future either, instead he used them to just support his image. Hey, he needed new clothes after the old ones got destroyed. He couldn't simply walk around with bullet holes all over them! And they wouldn't be white, and even though he didn't even like the color white it still was his image because of the hair. He needed to be noticed or rememberable some sort of way. The color was simply his way of doing it.

However, there was one place Vincent was able to return to, but it was far from something he would call a home. It was a former employer that just offered him a couch if he didn't have any other place he could spend the night. Or food if he was about to die or just faked it. A shower. When they had worked together they had just clicked, got along together, you could describe it any way you wanted but they had somewhat turned into friends. And it was that couch that Vincent had spent the night on when it happened.

Wasn't it strange that even though Vincent didn't have a proper address and shouldn't be able to even find inside the city someone had been able to do it anyway. Leaving a letter inside his new pure white leather jacket he had just been able to buy the day before. If he should describe the whole thing with one word it would be creepy. It creeped him out so much that he threw the letter away from himself after he read it. Watching it vanish the moment it sailed through the air. The moment he had read the written words the only thoughts that crossed his mind had been different variants of the word no, but it was something about the disappearing of the letter that triggered another part of him. Curiosity.

So somehow Vincent found himself in front of the remarkable building that night, staring up at it. Thinking that this was stupid and that he should just leave instead. But he couldn't. Even though the whole situation was completely bizarre and he wanted it to be some sort of prank it couldn't be. Somehow someone had been able to track him and they even broke into the house just to leave that letter. It couldn't be just a joke. Or could it? Once again Vincent was just about to turn around and start to walk off again when the bells sounded highly above him.

He felt like a fool when he actually did what the letter asked him to do. It felt so extremely idiotic to stand there in the middle of the night and simply press some of the stones. As if something would happen. When he finally pressed his palm against the last stone that had been mentioned - it had taken a lot of counting to get it right - he let out a sigh in disbelief directed towards himself for even doing this. But his embarrassment over the situation vanished and was replaced by pure shock when a panel of the stone wall simply slid backwards. Revealing the staircase on the other side. Even though one part of him still wanted to believe this all was a just a bad joke he had fallen for he couldn't deny the fact that this really had taken place in front of him. And with nothing left to lose he started to walk that staircase to find out what this all was about.

When reaching the end of it he was still located in the darkness, there was no light switches, no lamps, no windows. But he didn't need that to find his way out. Because right in front of him he could see that faint silhouette of a door or some sort opening because of the light that slipped through it. After he had tried to find some sort of door handle or anything of the sort but not been able to do it he simply pushed the thing and it glide right open.

What met him on the other side was not what he had expected. What he had thought would be some secret hide out with high tech things or something taken straight out of a horror movie turned into being a simple dinner party. At least that was what it looked like. And apparently he was late since everyone had already started.

Looking at the table he noticed that there were two empty chairs however, so he wasn't the last one to show up at least. And without saying anything because he had no idea what he was supposed to say in a situation like this he made his way over to the table and sat down onto one of the empty chairs. He didn't touch the food either, he was too suspicious of the people and simply everything that took place in front of him. So he just sat there and analyzed the others silently.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mistress Mania Character Portrait: Twisted Cheshire Character Portrait: Dr Grav Character Portrait: Arctic Wolf Character Portrait: Stretch Character Portrait:
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In the next few moments several new guests had found their way into the inner sanctum of the Clocktower and much to Mr. E's chagrin one of them was a...crying cat? He assumed when the invitations had first been sent out that it was very likely to bring him some of the odder street level criminals, and looking at the motley crew of wierdo's before him he was fairly certain his assumptions had been correct. The cat girl in particular bothered him, her teary display causing his massive frame to visibly shift in his seat uncomfortably. Atleast the last two had seemed somewhat...normal? Irregardless they would all serve his plans perfectly.

Then he noticed how the guy in purple was staring at him WAY intensely from behind his mask while his body twitched and fidgeted oddly, as if he was doing his best to stay still. Maybe he wasn't that normal after all. Masking his growing agitation rather well Mr. E raised a glass to the two newcomers while giving a silent nod of approval to Vincent, as if to say "I love the all white look."

"Hey! Hey, Mr. E? Can I keep her? I promise I'll feed her and pet her and play with her, and take really good care of her! So can I? Pleeeeeeaaaaaseeee~?"

The voice of Mania sounded in Mr. E's ear, growing more and more annoying by the minute. Like always though he simply smiled towards the woman. Quickly he responded in his gruff yet somehow friendly voice "I think that is something you two will have to discuss over yourselves."

Before Mistress Mania could respond (and boy what a fitting name, E thought) with yet another one of her insane questions the newcomer, who Mr. E was pretty sure was Dr. Grav or something, asked his own question. "So, what's going on here?" He asked between bites of bread.

Before he could respond to Dr. Grav he was interrupted by the first arrival, the one in the black and white striped costume known as Stretch.
---

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Stretch had watched in amusement as the seats around him began to fill, from the strange crying cat woman (who couldn't be a real cat, right?), to the...intense looking man in purple, and then there was also the nonchalant quite one who had simply strolled in and sat down without a word. A few alarm bells rang in his head as he stared at the all white wearing Vincent, having learned along time ago it was the real quite one's you had to look out for. Sure, people like Mania were probably just as likely to blow you up or kill you in some overly elaborate fashion-but it was the quite ones who would stab you in the back on purpose.

He watched in particular interest as Mania practically tackled the Cat girl while talking about her and crooning over her like she was an actual pet. He was about to say something to try and help the poor Ayla out, but then he remembered he was a villain and other peoples feelings didn't matter. So instead he turned his attention back to the recently named Mr. E, who had just been asked the same question Stretch had been wondering this whole time. "Yeah, what the purple bandit said." he asked following up Dr. Grav's question.
---

Mr. E had to keep himself from losing his cool. The combination of all the questions, constant interruptions, late arrivals, and Mania just being herself in general had put him on the edge of losing his patience. One deep controlled breath later though and he had regained his declining composure.

In one fluid motion he pushed his chair back, stood to his full height of eight feet and something inches, and began circling the table like a shark. His hand still clutched the same wine glass he'd been sipping from, stirring it lazily as he walked around his guests. From the way he stared at the dark red wine it was clear he was far more interested the contents of the glass then he was in his new found company.

"Well, I'm sure you have all heard of the particular organization I represent here tonight. The Midnight Society" He paused and took a sip from his glass as he let his words sink over the room before continuing. "Once every few years we at the Society seek out and recruit new talents to bring into the organization. And it just so happens that you lucky few have caught our eye. That being said we cant just recruit people based off of what we have heard, we need to witness your abilities for ourselves. Which brings me to your first group assignment." Having made his way all the way around the table and back to his seat he sat back down, his massive frame settling back into his chair with a loud creek. Pressing an unseen button somewhere on his chair the whole left wall of the room slid open, revealing the largest monitor anyone in the room had likely ever seen. Another button press and the monitor flicked to life, a three dimensional layout of some unknown building popping up on screen.

"The job itself is simple. Infiltrate the building, steal Blue Tessla's new energy prototype, and then leave an explosive little surprise on your way out." Mr. E finished his explanation at the exact same time he finished his glass of wine-honestly he couldn't have timed it better. "Think of it as a test of your loyalty."
---

Stretch almost choked on the piece of cake he'd been eating while listening to Mr. E. He wanted them to steal from Blue Tessla? THE Blue Tessla, Lord of Lightning and part time dabbler in crazy ass doomsday inventions? Talk about one hell of a "test".

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mistress Mania Character Portrait: Twisted Cheshire Character Portrait: Dr Grav Character Portrait: Arctic Wolf Character Portrait: Stretch Character Portrait: Miss Massacre
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Miss Massacre

Mack looked again at the invitation quizzically. This was the clock tower, right? This had to be some kind of mistake, she wasn't a "supervillain" she just like to cosplay in public and suddenly there were terrorists or hurricanes or giant monsters... it was the internet fanboys that tried to ascribe some kind of scheme to her.

Never mind that all those unfortunate coincidences were the result of her abusing her ability in order to get more shiny Pokémon but that was hardly her fault, much less some kind of villainous plan.

Nonetheless, this had to be some kind of insanely lucrative opportunity, perhaps it was just more of her fabulous luck that caused these Midnight guys to mistake her for some kind of criminal mastermind.

Meanderingly, she made her way to her designated entry spot, navigated the tunnels and alcoves and hidden doorways and finally found her way to the meeting room.

Immediately, but still casually, she walked over and took a seat and scanned the room as everyone eyed her.
Especially that big guy. Dude looked like he was gonna bust a gasket.
"Aw, sweet, prawns? I love these." She grabbed several and continued examining everybody.
Guy in the purple sweater...
The guy that looked like he just got out of prison...
Cat chick... mmm, pretty cute that one...
And the other chick... wow...
And then this pale dude...
And then the big goliath-lookin' mofo...
Well, she was sure they were all badasses in one way or another. It would be interesting to work with some actual colorful characters, rather than a bunch of boring gangsters... why real life wasn't more like Snatch she'd never know. Maybe she needed to move to England? She'd have to put it on her possible to-do list.

Ugh, God, this food was good. She rarely got bad meals per se, but it was infrequent she got stuff this spectactular due to the fact she mostly just ordered pizza night after night. She was quick to devour, napkin her mouth, and then grab something else, somehow finding time to talk in between in all.
"So what'd I miss? Y'all got invited to this thing too, right? When's whoever in charge gonna get here, it's pretty bad form to be late like this..." she said as she continued to shove food in her mouth.
Spying Mr. E's less than amused glare at her, she asked, "What you want me to pass the escargot or something?" She shook the tiny trail of snails daintily at him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mistress Mania Character Portrait: Twisted Cheshire Character Portrait: Dr Grav Character Portrait: Arctic Wolf Character Portrait: Stretch Character Portrait: Miss Massacre
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Mr. E had to bite back the urge to attack the latest arrival. Teach her some respect. Couldn't she tell who was in charge? Wasn't his mere presence alone enough to establish his authority? Apparently not, he realized while staring at Mack who seemed to be doing her best to sample everything on the table. He furrowed his eyebrows further in frustration at her first question, not wanting to repeat his long winded explanation yet again-he was an impatient man who hated to repeat himself. Finally Mack seemed to notice the venomous look Mr. E was giving her, their eyes locking momentarily before Mack spoke directly to him.

"What you want me to pass the escargot or something?"

The way she rattled the tray of dead snails in front of him nearly made him lose it, his jaw visibly tightening from the stress. He could feel his pearly white teeth begin to grind together as they so often did when he was angry, a habit his dentist had been getting on him more and more about ("It's bad for you!"). The longer Mr. E sat there simply staring at Mack the more an uneasy, almost hostile, feeling began to overwhelm the room.

Luckily for Mr. E (or perhaps Mack) his attention was torn away from the woman as Stretch broke the eerily growing silence in the room, his rough "pack a day habit" voice catching the attention of everyone in the room.
---

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"Well King Kong over there want's us to steal some...something from Blue Tessla. You know the guy. Henchmen, secret base, shoots lightning out of his fucking hands. The whole nine yards. Some kinda 'test'." Stretch quickly filled in the newcomer, adding a set of air quotes when he spoke the word "test".

"But what I wana know." Stretch began again as he slid his plate of food to the side. The thought of going up against an A list super villain had made the exquisitely prepared food taste like ash in his mouth. "Is how we are going to get there, or find him, or whatever. I mean I doubt he's got like, a neon sign over his base saying "Blue Tessla" or something, right?"
---

Mr. E, who had surprisingly been listening to Stretch rather intently, simply waved his hand in the air at Stretch's question. As if to say 'not a problem.'

"You have to remember you work for The Society now, boy." Mr. E thundered in what sounded like amusement. Suddenly his massive frame shifted in it's seat and bending forward he reached underneath his chair before quickly returning to his upright position. Only now Mr. E was clutching a box of some finely polished wood. Setting the fine little piece of craftsmanship on the table Mr. E carefully opened the thing, his face beaming at whatever it was inside the box.

"This may sting a little." He finished with a suspicious grin before randomly taking the box and swinging it towards the center of the table as if he were tossing a bucket of water onto a roaring flame. The case had contained what looked like six simple metal balls no bigger then a BB bullet, but instead of the contents of the case sprawling out onto the table in a messy pile they began to move and fly around the room at astonishing speeds while emitting a strange humming noise. As quickly as they had shot around the room they began to slow, the six tiny spheres coming to a stop directly in front of the faces of everyone in the room. They simply remained there hovering for a moment, emitting their strange little humming noises.
---

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What the hell's he talkin about Stretch wondered to himself as he watched the events unfold. He could only imagine what crazy scientist had come up with...whatever these metal balls were. Whatever they were Stretch assumed they were probably incredibly useful or dangerous. Honestly knowing the Society it was probably both.

Staring at the shiny little orb that now sat in front of his face Stretch noticed how it moved and shook slightly as if tying to hold it shape. He couldn't help but think it resembled the same shapeless silvery mercury used in thermometers and such. He was in the middle of thinking the thing actually looked kinda of cute when, with no time to respond, the small ball shot up through Stretchs mask and into his nose, continuing its path of trajectory until Stretch could literally feel something messing around in his brain.

And it BURNED.

From the loud clatter and commotion he could hear around him Stretch could only assume the same thing that had happened to him had happened to everyone else. He wasnt sure though-his own pain was blinding.

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#, as written by Lyysa
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The more Vincent tried to understand what was going on the more confused he got. To him the whole group seemed to be filled with odd figures, he couldn't see how they were supposed to work with together. He couldn’t se how he was supposed to work together with them. From Vincent perspective the only somewhat sane looking person in the room was the purple spy, still purple was a color that made Vincent nauseous. The last one that arrived didn't look much saner either. The things didn't exactly help her case either, even Vincent had understood who was in charge by just entering the room. It wasn't hard to detect who had the most authority around them. It was natural for Vincent to feel it, he was and had always been a loyal marionette without a mind of his own in those people’s hands.

When others seemed to get nervous by the assignment Vincent just shrugged inside his mind, he couldn't see what people got nervous about. It was just some petty theft they were asked to do. No, Vincent had no idea who the man they were going to steal something from was or why he should fear him. Even after the man in the jump suit described who the man was to the newcomer Vincent still shrugged and thought "Meh" about it all. He didn't fear some lousy henchmen or some laser shooting maniac. He was positive he had been through worse things before in his previous life.

While the conversations continued Vincent started to lean back in his chair in a sluggish manner, about to tip the weight onto the rear legs when everything got a little less boring. As soon as the box got onto the table he leaned forward for the first time, interested in what was about to happen. And what he got what some sort of orb. Nothing more than that, sure they were humming and flying. But to Vincent it wasn't that brilliant. But just as he criticized the surprise he had to eat his own words as the little ball suddenly flew right up his nose.

It stung. Just a little however. Or perhaps a lot. Vincent didn't know, he was too busy clawing his way through the table trying to stay composed. But the pain, it was simply too good. He couldn't even hear the other's shouts of pain around him, the only thing he could hear was how his heart beat got louder and louder. How the adrenaline pumped through his body. The only thing he could feel was how he desired more of it. He wanted the orb to continue poking around inside his brain, more of the sensation it gave. The bloody fingers from all the clawing wasn't nearly enough. He needed more. More.

Then the shouts. Suddenly he heard the shouts. Not around him. Inside him. The pained shouts from voices he hadn't even heard before. The begging of some sort of pain to stop. So many sounds. It filled his head, drew away the happiness he had felt just a moment ago. In terror his hands moved from the table to his head instead, clawing at the scull. Painting the white hair red by the blood from the already healed wounds on his fingers. The shouting didn't stop. It just got louder. And louder. Louder. He couldn't think anymore. He could just hear the shouts.

"Shut up... Sh-Shut up!" His chair fell violently to the ground as he stood up and shouted for the first time before he simply smashed his own head against the table over and over again in an attempt to force the voices out of his mind, "Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!"

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The room now packed with an oddball group and the revelation of the society's intentions gave way to immediate curiosity on Grav's part. What is the point of collecting these individuals? He pondered, surely a crack team of skilled mercenaries would be better suited to the task, but it definitely piqued Wilson's interest. Blue Tessla, that would be a challenge... Not that the minuscule Dr Grav could possibly compete... Or could he?

Wilson banished the thoughts from his mind, thinking of such a prolific scientist as Tessla would only agitate him. Sooner or later he'd end up wanting his blood on his breakfast cereal, there's only place for one after all.

No... I never could, he's in the big leagues Wilson thought.

As he was about to speak up, announce his trepidation into taking on such a strong opponent straight away, Mr E presented his fascinating little devices. His thoughts were cut short yet again as Wilson and everyone else in the room was set upon by these metal spheres. Shooting up his nose like a rocket, Wilson recoiled away from the table, slamming into the back wall. He couldn't speak, he tried to do something but it was already inside, rattling around his skull as the sensation became unbearable. Then his pain gave way to anger.

"Arrrggh!" He shouted initially, becoming more guttural the longer he shouted, his violent nature overriding the pain as he bent upwards and shot a deathly stare at Mr E. "AHHHAAHAAH! I WILL CRUSH YOU, MARK MY WORDS LARGE MAN!!". He "I AM... I am.." Dr Grav straightened out, calming his mind. Then the voices came in, he could hear them, they were in pain. Most were screaming, if only internally, one of them seemed to be enjoying the pain, Wilson wasn't quite sure what to make of it. His personality was dwarfed by the others he could hear. The destruction of Mr E would have to wait.

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Scene 2
First Night
××What's Going On?××



|| Location ✦ Bay City ~ Little Ben ||
|| State of Mind ✧ Confused ||









As soon as Aryll began to cry, lots more commotion started. More people came, and she was tackled by a black haired girl. Aryll was dumbfounded. The girl was treating her like a pet. She was in her human form.... oh, she did it halfway. She still had her purple furry ears and tail. Soon after everyone arrived, Mr. E had explained their mission. She stood there and listened, still in the girl's arms. Many items then were spread out across the table. He said it was equipment. A small metal ball peaked her interest. As it floated towards Aryll, she began to get a little tense.

PING

It flies up her nose slowly traveling to her brain. The pain is irresistible as she cups her head in her hands. She groans in pain as it starts to subside. She can hear screams of agony in her head, and she fully turns into her cat form. Insane. That's one word to describe her. She jumps away from the girl and jumps up onto the cieling holding on for dear life. "STOP! STOP IT!" Aryll screams. She now feels no more of the pain and calms down, turning back to her human form, fully this time. She falls from the cieling, landing in a perfect handstand. She flips landing upright. "What just happened?

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#, as written by Feyblue





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Scene 3
The First Night
☆Robo-Thingies Make You PSYCHIC?!☆



|| Location ✦ Bay City ~ Little Ben ||
|| State of Mind ✧ I CAN READ MINDS! :D ||





Mania had sort of lost track of what was going on around her due to her preoccupation with fluffing the ears of the strange purple-y kitty-person, and as such, had been paying little attention to... well, everything, really, up until the point that the victim of her glomp abruptly disappeared into the ceiling with a cry of alarm, causing Mania, momentarily too distracted by her dismay at the vanishing the cat to concentrate on maintaining her forcefield, to fall to the ground in a rather comical fashion. Grumbling wordlessly under her breath, she rolled over, staring blankly up and wondering if gravity was all part of a cat conspiracy to enslave humanity when suddenly...

Ooh, shiny! She thought, her attention suddenly focusing on a tiny, metallic speck hovering over her. Just as she noticed it, it shot sharply downward towards her.

...So, she opened her mouth and swallowed it whole.

The very confused brain probe found itself suddenly on its way into a completely different organ than it had intended it enter. But, it was an adaptable little device, and so decided to make the best of its current position, slipping swiftly through the oblivious villainess' stomach and from there into her bloodstream, riding this current right into her brain. By sheer coincidence, it ended up exactly where it needed to be, without ever having to shuffle through her brain to get there.

And so it was that, sitting up, Mania found herself very confused by the sudden presence of extra voices in her head, having not even realized what the drone was or what it had been doing. She had long since known she was crazy, and that hearing voices was a sign of such. The only surprise there was that she hadn't started hearing voices sooner. Rather, what was bizarre was that they appeared to be the voices of the other people in the room.

"Oh my god...!" Mania exclaimed, clasping her hands together as though she would explode from excitement at any moment. "I'M PSYCHIC! Quick, everybody, don't think about cats!" She stared at everybody very seriously before breaking out in a massive grin. "You thought about them. I know, BECAUSE I CAN READ MINDS!" She gave a maniacal cackle of glee, spinning wildly around in some sort of bizarre "I just became a psychic so HAH!" victory dance.

Just then, however, a man across the table began pounding his forehead into its surface and screaming at her to shut up. Mania pouted, angrily floating up into the air and hopping over the table in a single bound, somehow redirecting her forcefields to hang herself upside down in front of him, reaching down and fluffing his silvery hair vigorously.

"Aww, don't be so frumpy now, Mr. Grumpy Grumpington,~" She chuffed, speaking as though to a very small child. "Your mind was probably boring until I started reading it anyway."

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Ooc: I just wanted to say that yes, I am killing of a char due to inactivity. I've never done this before but I do not want to let one or two people kill/ruin the rp for everyone. Like I said this is solely based off of inactivity/lack of communication-this is nothing against Dawn personally. I don't presume to know what is going on in their life at this time therefore I do not blame them for inactivity but I as the GM have to do something about it. Anyways, back to the rp!

IC:
Mr. E poured himself another cup of wine as the rouges gallery of villains before him fell into a state of chaos, yet looking at the calm expression on his face you wouldn't think three fourths of the room was stumbling around screaming. After a particularly long sip of wine he finally spoke up again. "I know its painful but that will pass quickly. It's each others thoughts your all hearing right now, so focus a bit and you should be able to block the voices out. Now aside from linking minds these little toys of mine will also track your position, should you get captured or worse. Oh and finally they also have this little feature." As Mr. E finished he pointed to Mack, his large thumb and index finger extending to give his massive hand the shape of a gun. Jerking his hand back he pretended to fire.

Without a sound Macks head erupted from some unseen explosion, showering the room and its surrounding occupants in blood, sinew, and bone. An eyeball was even dangling from Dr. Grav's ear and Mania was now almost completely red, both her outfit and skin covered in a fine mist of Macks blood. Vincent even had a few teeth disturbingly impacted into his forehead. "And that's what happens when you fall on the Societies bad side." Mr. E finished matter of factly. He acted like blowing up a dinner guests head was just another night in The Society. Maybe it was?

"Anymore questions?"

---
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Stretch was doing his best to keep his lunch down and make out Mr. E's speech. So it's their voices... he thought to himself as he began trying to focus. Surprisingly after following Mr. E's advice the voices had almost completely ceased, still the sudden mind probe had left Stretch with a whopping headache. Just as he was regaining his composure the little lady in the black suit, the one who'd been the last to arrive and seemingly gotten on Mr. Es bad side, had her head randomly erupt all over the newly assembled group of villains. Apparently their team wasn't off to the best start.

Looking around the room at the macabre scene that had suddenly unfolded Stretch was quickly regretting attending this dinner party. Then he remembered that he was technically linked telepathecly with all the others in the room.

"Uhm...Hello?" He thought, trying to project his thoughts outward. Still it was an odd thing to attempt, and having never done it he couldn't be sure if he was succeeding or not. Still he continued to think. "Mr. E is...clearly fucking crazy."

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#, as written by Lyysa
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Vincent had never been fond of human touch, he could bare it at the best of times. But most of the time it gave him goose bumps in a bad way. This was one of those times. When he still was completely consumed by his rage and confusement over the voices in his head when someone suddenly started to touch his hair. And his hair was one of those things that no one else’s was allowed to touch.

As soon as he felt the touch Vincent’s hands instinctively moved to the guns he always wore at all occasions and grabbed them both at the same time, directing them towards the floating ladies face. He would probably have pulled the trigger on both of them if it wasn't for the fact that the newest member of the dinner party suddenly explodes. Or her head did. For a second Vincent just lost all focus and stared at the dead body while he lowered his guns again. But he refused to put both of them back in their holsters, the only one he put down was the left one, the one without the chain attached to his belt.

Without blinking Vincent started to pull out the teeth's that had gotten stuck with the empty hand and as soon as the object had been removed you could actually see how the skin just closed itself around the wound. Leaving nothing but a smooth surface when he was done, you couldn't even suspect that he just had gotten pierced by them just a moment ago. And with the same indifferent attitude as he had before all the chaos started he was the one to answer the Anymore question part, "Yeah. You still haven't answered the question about how we are supposed to find this Blue Te-- whatever the dude is called, that you are talking about."

Then there it was, once again he heard a voice. Not as loud as the last time but it still was there. But only one of them. It wasn't until they were back that he realized that they had been gone. Even after hearing the explanation he couldn't say that he liked it, hearing people thoughts inside his head. Hearing them talk to him. No, it was insanity. And he had no reason to even acknowledge it, he pretended he hadn't heard it. Ignored the faint sound of whoever it was that called the big man crazy. But Vincent agreed with the statement - even though he hadn't heard it, he had totally not heard it. Nope.

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#, as written by Feyblue





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Scene 4
The First Night
A Very Poor-Mannered Host



|| Location ✦ Bay City ~ Little Ben ||
|| State of Mind ✧ :| ||





Mania giggled, staring calmly down the barrels of the guns pointed at her face, seemingly oblivious of the threat they posed. Although a keen-eyed observer might have noticed a faint flickering of light around Mania's body as her forcefields intensified themselves, she didn't seem to be at all worried by the man pointing firearms at her face, nor did she make any conscious effort to move out of the way. She merely smiled cheerfully at Vincent, reaching out, and giving his forehead a rather childish poke.

"Silly Billy," She said, apparently deciding on a name for him regardless of his consent. "You don't point guns at your friends!" Mania didn't seem offended by his rather violent retaliation to her presence. Rather, she almost seemed... disappointed. However, whether or not she planned on continuing this lecture, the others would never know, for at that instant, the person seated next to them suddenly exploded, her head splitting apart like a watermelon and sending a smattering of blood and brain matter raining down all around. Mania blinked, taking a moment to grasp what in the hell had just happened as she sat dumbfounded, still floating in mid air, now painted almost entirely in hues of red by the unwanted shower of scarlet claret.

Her shields gave off a fizzling sound, and the blood that coated her abruptly disintegrated. There was a faint crackling of energy as Mania turned to give Mr. E. a very pointed look, taking only a moment to eye the headless corpse slumped beside the table with obvious disgust. She wasn't smiling anymore. She pushed off her forcefield, and floated back across the table, returning to her seat.

"Why does everybody in this business hurt their friends? There's nothing to be gained from it. You lose one follower outright, and after that, nobody's gonna want to work with you. It's just pointless for everybody," Mania's thoughts were projected to the others in the room with a surprising level of clarity. It seemed that blowing up somebody's head on a whim was enough to put a damper even on her mood.

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Scene 3
First Night
××Voices, and dead bodies...××



|| Location ✦ Bay City ~ Little Ben ||
|| State of Mind ✧ Sick ||









After the sudden metal object that flew up her nose, Aryll paid no mind to what happened after. She only made out a phrase such as "That's what happens" and Aryll still paid no mind. but when she took a closer look at her surroundings, she nearly spread out her last meal on the floor. Blood, and body parts EVERYWHERE. She tried to hold in her lunch. "Oh god..." Now she heard the two voices in her head, the first one, she answered to telepathically. "Dude, did he just do that? I'm gonna barf.... better get as far from me as you can.." And that's when her last meal went all over the nearest person, which just happened to be the only other girl besides her, considering the fact that one of them just got slaughtered...

"Oh...crap... I am SO SORRY!" Aryll couldn't handle the sight of brains spilled out before her. It made her sick."Just incase that happens again... may I have a barf bag?" She nervously chuckled, running her hands through her hair. Things just went from ??? to WTF!? It was all so very overwhelming. Human anatomy sucks.

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- Little Ben


Maybe it was the warm wash of blood and parts of the recently deceased hanging from Grav's person or the sudden realisation of his place in this troublesome arrangement that caused him to snap into his previous submissive state. Nonetheless Wilson quickly wiped himself off and fell back into a chair at the now ruined table. His face turned vacant as he gazed at the freshly red-stained food items strewn in front of him, not looking nearly as appetising as they once did. "Certainly a dangerous man then..." Wilson pondered. Not all was grim however, as the subsidence of Wilson's more proactive personality gave way to his scientific, logical side, and a great deal of clarity.

For Mr. E, in his theatrical attempts at secrecy had given away various telltale clues as to his identity.

  • Observation. 1 - He was a man of little patience. A fact that would have stood out to any he may have previously met, and is a rather defining characteristics of one's personality. Unfortunately, Wilson had also suffered experience in this.

  • Observation. 2 - His abilities involved some sort of telekinetic force and were very deadly. A clue to his origin's perhaps? Wilson would have to make a note of this.

Wilson also took this time to notice his potential team mates, a whimsical and varied combination of prospective super villains that sat, stood and lurked around him. If he was ever to join the big leagues of super villainy then he would have to make sure that he knew how to work with this so called team. Perhaps most immediately would be the one who couldn't seem to remain quiet, let alone still as the proceedings developed. Hyperactive, unpredictable... and manic. Potentially a liability, yet strangely unaffected by the rather grim events... could be a useful trait. Although she unnerved Wilson slightly, the rather ominous looking man nearer to him almost frightened him. Also somewhat immune to Mr E's actions and proposal yet visibly uncomfortable about, something. Wilson would rather not find out, although his apparent regenerative abilities were no less than spectacular. Had Wilson's field been biology rather than astrophysics he would certainly be willing to investigate, however a more approachable subject would be preferable.

Next on this list was the cat-like girl he had passed on his way in, looking less than pleased at what had unfolded, ill even. He was unsure about her strengths, but a strong stomach seemed like it wouldn't be one of them. Just like the guy that had been the first one there, what they had to offer the operation would have to be a surprise. Speaking of him, he had heard the name "Hamburglar" used before he entered the room and assumed that this was him due to his outfit. An odd name, but perhaps a clue to his powers?

Those that had spoken after E had dispatched of the final member of the team had their words reverberate inside Wilson's skull, forcing him to drown out one of the sources of the sound. He'd had to ignore an element of his psyche before, what were four extra voices in his head?

"Excuse me, Mr E?" Wilson finally decided to pipe up. "Ignoring this, ugh, mishap... how exactly do you plan for us to work together?"

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Stretch waved his hand around in the air as the stench of burning blood filled the air, the exposed lower half of his face clearly showing disgust. "Great" he thought to himself "Now not only does it smell like death in here but Ms. Crazy is a walking human barbeque." Just based off the smell he was willing to bet money that she had a piece of flesh or two stuck on her weird energy shields. If he hadn't wanted to throw up moments before he most certainly did now.

He was about to say something to Ms. Crazy when the Catwoman beside her beat him to it, only instead of words she was spewing hot fresh vomit. Stretch was about to feel sorry for Ms. Crazy when he realized, to his horror, that in moments a new horrid sizzling smell would probably be filling the room.

He had to get out of here quick.

----

Mr. E ignored Mistress Manias harsh looks and Arylls comments just as intensely as he listened to Vincent and Dr. Grav speak. When the two finished he finally spoke up in response "Like I told Stretch there." He nodded his massive head towards the black and white striped man. "You work for the Midnight Society now. We don't expect to send you out and somehow have you track down this man. I mean really, what would the point of that be? Afterall we have members whose soul powers are finding people-hell, that's the benefit of working in a group like The Society. Multiple powers all coming together to, well simply, help each other on jobs while keeping each other out of jail." Mr. E spoke like he'd rehearsed the words, almost like he was pitching a recruitment speech. He stood up and began walking around the room again, his gargantuan presence even more intimidating now that he'd effortlessly blown someones head up. Despite the carnage his suit was still somehow immaculately white.

"If you look towards the screen." He motioned towards the giant monitor in the room, the image having changed to a single floor of the underground compound.

Image

"That's all the real info you all need to know, so study it well. We believe the experimental power source is in the laboratory located in the far NorthWest corner of the throne room." He paused for a moment, turning his back to the group. "So finally to really give you two a barebones answer is this: Don't worry about how to get there, and as for working together-well." He chuckled "Trial by fire."

Suddenly Mr. E turned back towards the group far quicker then any man his size should be able to move, his two baseball glove sized hands held at the ready like two pistols-he was using the same "finger guns" that had blown up Macks head mere minutes before.

Before anyone could react he "fired" off five shots effectively hitting each one of his targets.
---

Stretch stood up horrified, his stretching appendages shooting him alarmingly high into the air in hopes of somehow avoiding the deadly invisible ray. He landed on the ground with a painful sounding crash, luckily his rubbery body absorbed most of the blow and it simply looked far worse then it felt.

But he could feel his body tingling all over-he hadn't been able to avoid it. Terrified he Grasped at his head in anticipation of the impending pop. "Fuck you MR.-" Stretch began to roar in defiance only to be cut off, the odd sensation overtaking his body.

Then things got really weird and the tingling sensation that filled his body turned into a sucking motion, almost as if he was a pool of water being sucked down the bathtub drain. He could feel himself melting, swirling down some invisible hole into the nothingness of whatever awaited Crooks like him.

Then suddenly, and disoriented, he popped back into physical being. Only now he wasn't in the fancy, yet bloody, lobby of the Clocktower. No, now he found himself in a large twister game of sorts-in his vision he could make out white hair, purple appendages, feline claws and a tail, and what smelled like Ms. Crazy's sizzling shields. He could also see a few brooms that had fallen into the human body pile, a mop bucket also clearly visible in the left corner of the room. There were also a few shelves of chemicals above the group, but with the lights off it seemed impossible to read the contents.

"So..." Stretch began, somehow accepting the fact that they all had just been...transported..or something? Magic? He wasn't sure-whatever it was it hadn't hurt, but it sure felt...weird. Somewhere between the hidden clock base, strange metallic psychic brain ball things, and cranial explosion he had decided he was just going to have to just roll with the strangeness, either that or go crazy. Maybe both if he wasn't careful. "Anyone wana get offa me?"

They were inside what Stretch assumed was the same broom closet they had seen on the floor schematics Mr. E had briefly shown them. Outside he could hear two muffled voices speaking.

"I swear I heard something in there Frank."

"Oh shut the fuck up Ted. You know why we get stuck guarding the broom closet? It's causea that kinda stupid shit you just said right there."

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#, as written by Feyblue





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Scene 5
The First Night
The Heist Begins



|| Location ✦ Bay City ~ Little Ben ||
|| State of Mind ✧ :/ ||





What happened next was a bit of a blur. Everybody started yelling, their thoughts filling Mania's mind - which wasn't an experience she wasn't entirely comfortable with, as usually the voices in her head were a lot more friendly - and drowning out whatever it was Mr. E was trying to tell them. Oh, also somebody barfed on her, but her shields, still at a rather high level of power due to her distress and wariness at seeing how far exactly their employer was willing to go, took care of that in a few moments. Whether or not Mania could actually smell the rather rancid scent of vaporized vomit, she made no indication.

She'd just been checking to make sure all of the stains on her clothes had vanished - they had, but even if they'd remained, she could have just stripped and made her costume recreate itself from fresh nanofibers around her - when suddenly, she found herself feeling very dizzy, like she was falling somehow. The next thing she knew, she was suddenly sitting on top of somebody. No, scratch that, on top of a lot of people. She'd been seated at the farthest end of her side of the table, which meant that Mr. E had only gotten to "shooting" her last, resulting in her ending up near the top of the pile of her colleagues. She glanced around, trying to find some way to stand up without stepping on somebody. The closet they were in was pretty tiny, which meant there wasn't really anywhere to go. Fortunately, there was an empty janitor's bucket placed by the side of the door, so she just slid as gingerly off of her new friends as best she could and stepped with one foot into the bucket, moving to the side to allow them room to stand. Perched there on one leg, she did her best impression of a flamingo, waiting for the others to extricate themselves from the giant mass of body parts they'd ended up in. Staring at the resulting mess, Mania raised a single finger to her chin contemplatively, before giving a massive grin.

"Ohhhhhh. So THIS must be what the inside of a clown car looks like! Poor clowns," she thought, her rather pointless realization being broadcast to her teammates' minds as well.

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At one point Vincent only disliked the gorilla playing the part of boss in his fancy white suit, the only one that could truly rock the color white was obviously Vincent himself. No one else. But it was more than his usual dislike for people, just because they simply were humans, it was more. Because he felt like the man tried to make the whole group seem stupid in comparison of the gorilla himself. But Vincent didn't think he was stupid, if the others were that it was not something of his concern - but he could already pin point those he believed lacked something upstairs. And it annoyed him extremely much to be talked down to.

It was the beginning, the Like I told you before part that really ticked Vincent off. Because the huge gorilla hadn't said anything about the things he repeated afterwards. The only thing he had told them was that they "worked for Midnight Society now". Nothing more. And Vincent was sure of it, even though he had the look and attitude off someone that didn't pay attention or cared even the slightest he was a good listener. So when the gorilla just continued to act as if he already had told them everything about the mission and they were just so dumb that they hadn't realized it before Vincent leaned back with his arms folded, gnashing his teeth.

When the whole lecture was over he saw how someone flew up from their chair as the boss gorilla fired his finger gun once more, like he had done when the girl's head had blown up. Of course other's feared such a fate. But not Vincent. He knew that such a thing wouldn't be able to kill him, he would simply rise up later and walk out of the room afterwards. He had done it plenty of times before, but no head exploded. What happened after he got his by the "air" shoot was something he had never experienced before. He had no idea what was going on.

The only thing he understood was the fact that he lied all entangled with a whole bunch off humans, feeling their warmth. Their heartbeats, their breaths. Every single movement that was made. And he freaked out, throwing himself out of it, hitting the shelf on the wall, almost climbing up on it to get away from the human interaction while he was waving around his handguns at everyone. Both of them. The fact that they should stay quiet and be discrete was not something that reached his mind, he was simply too freaked out and furious at the moment, "What the hell is going on?! Okay, I'm so going to shoot someone for this! Who's to blame, eh? Speak up or I'm going to blow all your heads to pieces!"

He hadn't thought it, he hadn't shouted it. But he hadn't been whispering either. He had been angry, loud voice and movements that made things truly fall down from the shelves. Because this was not what he wanted, this was something he never wanted. It was simply too much for his poor mind to wrap itself around. The voices, the transportation, finding himself in some sort of human pile. No he was frantic at this point, so the fact that he alarmed people on the outside didn't even get to him. He just wanted to shoot something or someone for all of this. And if the Society really wanted them to be able to work together they would need another way of transportation, because this simply didn't work that well.

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Character Portrait: Mistress Mania Character Portrait: Twisted Cheshire Character Portrait: Dr Grav Character Portrait: Arctic Wolf Character Portrait: Stretch Character Portrait:
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- Underground Compound


The set of events were immediately disorienting, but Dr Grav was never at a loss as to what had happened. Another clue to E's powers were the tell of his fingers imitating a gun, so he knew that he was either to die a quick death or the small chance that something new could happen. Thankfully it was the latter.

So there it was then, E had sent the group somewhere entirely different. By the looks of things, Grav was upside down, and felt fairly squashed by his compatriots who now sat atop him. Squirming around, he managed to get a better look of his surroundings, squinting as is eyes adjusted to the relative darkness of the cramped room he found himself in. The walls weren't very well kept, the paint peeled and scuffed with cases and shelves mounted to it all around. Clambering out of the pile with the controlled use of his abilities, making those on top light enough for him to lift out, Wilson climbed to his feet and adjusted his mask.

Surmising that they were in some sort of utility closet, and using the information that Mr E had just given them, it didn't take long for him to realise where they were. A hot wash suddenly shot across the back of Wilson's neck as the situation dawned on him, and he made sure to stay quiet while two muffled voices could be faintly heard behind the door. Unfortunately the regenerating one became incredibly unhinged, jumping up and threatening them all.

"Oh, no no no" he said quietly, raising his hands both in protection and to calm down Vincent. Please calm down, I know this was surprising but I..."

He had no words, he could tell that this guy wasn't one for human interaction but he wasn't confident that he could help in any way. He then turned to the door, weary that they would very soon be discovered. The manic one then made an offhand comment about clown cars, and Wilson actually smirked, calming him slightly.

Grav then put on a slightly more commanding voice, nothing extreme, but different from what he usually presented himself as. "We're on a job... If you want to shoot someone then..." he told him, pointing one hand to the door where the hapless guards stood behind.

"Call me Dr Grav" he continued, looking at those around him as well. "Shall we..."

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Moments into the writhing pile of confusion Stretch randomly felt everything seem to get a whole lot lighter, three fourths of the group literaly floating upwards momentarily as gravity no longer applied to them-he had to admit it felt pretty cool. It's a good thing that Miss Crazy made it out of the pile already Stretch thought to himself as the whole group seemed to upright themselves in the cramped confines of the closet. The last thing they needed right now was a zero gravity Misstress Mania...he could only imagine all the possible horrors.

Stretch had found himself cursing inwardly at Vincent's outburst. The white haired gun toting man wasn't screaming or anything, but Stretch was still worried about his raised voice alerting the guards. He'd heard stories of Blue Tesla after all-and he realllly didn't want to get vaporized by lightning at this point in his career. Luckily the purple clad man Stretch had come to know as Dr. Grav pretty much voiced his thoughts exactly. It made him like the man slightly more, plus he had a pretty neat power. Guess nowatimes as good as any for introductions. he thought to himself as he put on his best face for his criminal cohorts (sadly only half of his face was visible, so it looked more like a crazed version of Hamburglar with a mad grin).

Stretching his black and white Striped arms all around the room he shook everyone's hands in turn (comically when he reached Vincent he simply shook the pistol in Vincents hand.) "The names Stretch." He said in his gruff yet somewhat friendly voice. He finished shaking hands with Misstress Mania last, giving her a look. "Not Hamburglar."

"Oh come on Frank, you can't not have heard that" One of the voices from outside the door spoke up again.

"OH MY GOD Ted. Do you ever shut the fuck up? This is like last time your SWORE the Crimson Avengers were in the airducts. You remember how that turned out?" The other voice known as Frank responded in kind.

"Yeah...your...probably right"

Hearing all this on the other side Stretch decided Dr. Grav was probably right, they needed to act soon. "So...Who wants to take out Frank and Ted there? I can slingshot my way out of here when we open the doors, probably take out a guard or two on the other end of the hall." He told the group in a quick hushed tone.

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#, as written by Lyysa
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No one stepped up to take the blame. Vincent only smacked with his mouth in disapproval of their way to deal with the situation, he was not in the mood to be calmed down. He was not in the mood to play this little game with these people either. He just wanted to head away from this, home if he had one, and forget about it all. Perhaps all he needed was to sleep, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't able to frown much more than he already was. The deep wrinkles on his forehead made him look more like a old man than someone his age.

When the funny looking one tried to shake his pistol like he shook the others hands Vincent simply withdrew his gun from the man’s hand like he would have done with his own hand as well. No one was allowed to touch his pistols, to dirty them with their stains. So as the introduction continued Vincent simply just growled lowly to himself as he tried to clean the gun against his leather jacket, something that was much harder than he thought it would be.

But there was one idea he liked, something that captured his attention. The mentioning of shooting the guards outside of the door instead of the others, it was the purple man that had mentioned it first. But soon the strange looking one, the one calling himself Sketch, Stench, something like that - Vincent didn't care the slightest, asked who wanted to take them down. But there was no point in talking anymore, Vincent had never been a man that enjoyed that. He did things. And thought about the consequences afterwards.

So as soon as the man mentioned it he simply took the few steps towards the door without preparing the other ones and slammed his foot against it, discretion was not something he dealt with. Of course the loud smash of the door suddenly opening made the two guards react. The first one turning his face towards the commotion but was just able to glimpse at the white character before he fell to the ground as one shoot was fired, hitting him right between the eyes.

The second one didn't have much more time react, he was just about grasp against his own weapons when the white figure smashed the other gun towards his nose as he made the way out of the storage open for the others. Not because he was going to leave the second man alive, he had no intention to keep anyone alive, he never did. He enjoyed killing them, but he enjoyed toying with them as well. Which was why he smashed his face with the gun first before pressing it up under the man’s chin before pulling the trigger again. The sounds of the shoots could be heard echoing after it was done. Because no, Vincent didn't use silencers on his guns.

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The loud shot of Vincents pistol echoed through the large open corridor that stood outside the broom closet the group still resided in. The intended target, a man clad in a tight blue jump suit with a skin tight mask, had his face erupt into a mini geyser of blood as his body fell backwards like a limp sack of potatoes.

"I Fucking told yo-" The second man adorned in the same costume began yelling before Vincent smacked him across the face with the but of his gun, a sick bone cracking snap sounding out before being followed up by a gunshot beneath the chin. The body count was rising.

By this time the rest of the complex had woken up, two more guards standing directly at a set of stairs directly adjacent to the closet door being the most immediate threats. In seconds the pair had leveled both of their right arms in Vincents direction, their hands holding strange contraptions that resembled a two pronged electric wall plug in:and the way the metal prongs were starting to glow bright blue and crackle with energy it was pretty obvious something bad was about to happen.

For a moment it felt like all the air was sucked out of the broom closet and then within the span of a second four large blue arcs of electrical energy filled the air, arching out from the gunlike contraptions the two henchmen were already charging up yet again.

Vincent took the entirety of the blast-four baseball sized holes riddling his chest as he flew off his feet at an extremely odd angle: apparently he was hit with enough force that it sent him ragdolling towards the left of the hallway. The smell of freshly burnt flesh still filled the air on his decent to the floor. You could even hear him sizzling.

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Amidst all the commotion and Vincents attention grabbing entrance a black and white blur had been able to slingshot out of the door unnoticed to the henchmen still focusing on Vincent-Stretch had made it out of the closet and was hiding in the large metal rafters. From here he could get a good view of the entire hallway-it was mostly a completely sterile looking environment; the walls, floor, and ceiling all consisting of the same metallic gray material.

His birds eye view quickly showed him that the hallway, which ran about the length of a football field, currently had four henchmen all armed with the same deadly looking guns. There were the two men charging up for a second round of shots at Vincent-this pair stood right at the top of a large stone staircase that lead downwards. Then there were two more entering from the right side of the hallway, the pair emerging from two large sliding metal doors; these two didn't have their weapons charged but held them at the ready, clearly confused as to what the commotion was. The way one of them held two fingers to his covered ear made Stretch pretty sure they were in communication with someone: which wasn't good. Even worse before the sliding doors were able to close shut Stretch was able to make out two more suited figures approaching: soon there would be six henchman in all in the hallway.

Closing his eyes behind his black visor Stretch did his best to focus, to link his mind up with the rest of the group like Mr. E said they were now able to. He didn't bother with words, no, in the heat of the moment all of this information was mentally projected as images: the information coming into his comrades minds as if in a split second they two had seen everything his eyes had.