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Mistress Mania

"You stole CANDY? How could anyone be so heartless?! MR. HAMBURGLAR, YOU MONSTER!"

0 · 705 views · located in Earth

a character in “The Midnight Society.”, as played by Feyblue

Description

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"There are three kinds of villains in this town. There's the greedy ones, who think the world's theirs for the taking. Then, there's the egotistical ones, who think that if they did take over the world, they'd be doing it a favor. There's some intersection between the two sometimes, but it's still just the same shit on a different day. Anyway, for the most part, that's all there is to it. But every now and again, you get a weird one. They don't really care about money or power. They're just in the business for... well, for the fun of it, I guess." - Peace Brigade Sub-Commander Deep Freeze

Also Known As

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"'Oh, nothing to worry about, Byrne!' 'It's just a normal job, Byrne!' My ass! That insane witch lit my coat on fire, then started poking me with a marshmallow on a stick! And then, when I managed to get her at gunpoint, she giggled and asked if I wanted some smores! That's just not something you can fight!" - Hero-For-Hire, Alister "The Raven" Byrne




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Age
  • 20?

Height
  • Five feet, ten inches.

Weight
  • 124 lbs.

Infamy
  • It is the ideal of a supervillain to be able to instill terror with one's name or presence alone. In that sense, Mania (although she prefers to just go by Alice) has been fairly successful. Almost any hero she's had a run in with, upon hearing her mentioned, or seeing her appear unexpectedly, will doubtless make their discomfort known. However, this isn't really because people are scared she'll hurt them. Rather, it's because most of her "rivals" just hate dealing with her due to her, shall we say, "unique" temperament. And, due to the incredibly limited scale of her activities in the past, the average citizen would have no idea who she was if you mentioned her. As such, she's not really regarded as much of a threat despite her destructive tendencies, nor is she very well known amongst the community. Between up and coming supervillains, though, "Mistress Mania" is more than just a familiar face. Having worked with her and managed to stay sane is practically the unofficial rite of passage one must undergo before calling oneself a true supervillain. Seldom planning any major moves herself, and possessing no hideout, followers, or power base of her own, rather than a supervillainess, she refers to herself as "The World's Best Rent-A-Minion." In exchange for being allowed to crash in other supervillains' hideouts and mooch off their food, Mania helps with basic tasks like maintaining secret bases, fighting nosy heroes, and doing what she does best - distracting everybody with an explosive diversion so more stealth-oriented villains can accomplish their goals unhindered. At the very least, her help has proven instrumental to several other villains in their rise to power. For example, the now-infamous Dantalian, Dastardly Doctor of Dangerous and Dreadful Disciplines, is widely known to power his secret lab with a "Thought Engine" derived by reverse-engineering Mania's emotion-based powers, while the Midnight Samurai reportedly used Mania's attack on a nearby donut factory to steal several priceless swords from a heavily-guarded museum. Even the most laughable and unsuccessful of villains like Spongemaster and The Steamroller Thief have managed to succeed in their plans because of Mania's help - although whether anyone actually noticed or cared about these triumphs is dubious at best.

Appearance
  • Tall, dark-haired, and possessed of a figure that could generously be described as "improbable," as well as a costume that could only be described as "impossible," Mistress Mania looks like she stepped straight out of the pages of one of the many serial comic books created to catalog the exploits of famous heroes. Standing at a full height of five feet, ten inches, with a lithe, curvaceous form and long, limber legs, she practically embodies the exaggerated proportions possessed by most heroines and villainesses in hero fiction. Her skin is similar, being pale and bearing nary a scar or blemish upon its surface despite all the fights she's been through. Although this might seem like wish fulfillment in art drawn upon paper, in person, it's actually kind of unsettling, like one is looking at a porcelain doll or a young child instead of an adult woman. This only becomes stranger when her powers begin to emerge, as her skin almost seems to glow a faint reddish-pink, as though her very flesh has become subtly incandescent. Her hair and eyes are similarly bizarre, with the former being silky and black on the surface with unnaturally bright crimson strands beneath the surface, and the latter being a deep, steely gray in hue, but abruptly shifting to gleaming, ruby red when she uses her abilities - a cartoon cliche she's all too happy to embody. Her costume is somewhere between "Ballerina" and "Cat Burglar," with elements of both mashed together to create a truly bizarre outfit consisting of a cream leotard worn underneath a black bodysuit with a sizeable portion of its front cut out between her hips and thighs. This strange apparel is held in place by a variety of belts and straps around the bust, sleeves, and legs, all of which seem to overlap in a way that defies comprehension. Apparently lacking any zippers, buttons, or other miscellaneous openings to speak of, there doesn't seem to be any conceivable way to actually don or remove the costume, let alone keep it on, raising the question of how exactly she does it. In addition to this, she wears a black muffler that seems to generate its own wind currents, as it continues flapping dramatically as though in a strong breeze even when Mania is indoors, or there's no wind to move it. When she lets loose with her powers, the strangeness of this accessory is only compounded, as it appears to extend and contract in accordance with how much energy she's emitting, and its end appears to morph at some point into a blazing orange flame that doesn't seem to burn her, or even the rest of the garment. Finally, atop her head are two black horns that point straight up. Although they aren't growing out of her skin, and are apparently somehow connected to one another and detachable from her scalp, whatever headband they're affixed to seems to be somehow invisible and/or intangible, not to mention fastened securely to her head as though by industrial-strength adhesive.

    Of course, anyone who knows Mistress Mania is also aware of who created her costume, explaining a few of its inconsistencies. As payment for serving as the basis for his experiments to create a reactor powered by emotions, Dantalian - Dastardly Doctor of Dangerous and Dreadful Disciplines - designed a special form of self-reproducing nanofiber that converted emotional energy into additional material, as well as headband that served as a controller for the production of this material, with Mania's distinctive horns actually serving the purpose of transmitter antennae to direct the material into assuming the form of her costume, and then storing as much additional energy as possible within the scarf. So long as its user is generating sufficient emotional energy to fuel the garment, the headband can't be removed. And, given Mania's perpetual state of... well, Mania, this essentially means that nobody but her can actually take her horns off without knocking her unconscious first - a fortunate design choice, as doing so would also cause her costume to disappear in its entirety. In any case, with such a handy mechanism of dressing and undressing herself, Mania doesn't need clothes that can actually be put on or taken off the boring normal way! ...That aside, her costume is actually incredibly practical, as the nanofiber it is composed of projects a unifying energy field to sustain the garment's structure, which also happens to have the effect of creating a sort of pseudo-forcefield around her skin - even in places not actually covered by the costume - making her much tougher than she otherwise would be. This forcefield, like her clothing, moves as she does, adding additional force to every action she takes, and thus causing her outfit to also work much like a suit of powered armor, even if it may not look like it. Through particularly strong emotions, she can increase these effects further, allowing her to perform feats such as walking on thin air by making the forcefields beneath her feet functionally solid. And, finally, so long as she can provide it with power, it can regenerate from any damage it sustains by producing new material and zapping back into its old form, so even if she takes a hit, her outfit, with its ridiculously impractical design, won't fall apart. All in all, it's very practical for something as impractical as it is, confusing though that statement may be.

Powers
  • Mistress Mania's powers are rather vague and unexplored. In the hands of someone a little more mature and focused than her, they might prove incredibly versatile and potent. However, the problem is that, quite simply, she's too childish to use her abilities with any measure of effectiveness. Quite simply, she has the unique talent of affecting the area around her based on what emotions she's feeling. Theoretically, she could control these effects, causing them to take on various different forms depending on her mood. Vengeful anger and hatred might form crackling, hissing electricity, or strike like a blast of lightning, while sorrow might absorb energy from the surroundings, leaving them motionless and frigid cold. If Dantalian - Dastardly Doctor of Dangerous and Dreadful Disciplines! - and his research are any indication, she might even be able to draw on other people's emotions as a power source, leading to an even broader range of abilities.

    There are just two problems that make this potential versatility utterly inconsequential.

    First, Mistress Mania feels only one emotion: Mania.

    Secondly, she doesn't really care about what other people think enough to even perceive what emotions they're feeling, let alone tap into them.

    Consequently, her actual abilities essentially boil down to one simple thing: the ability to turn her hyperactivity into physical energy. This may not be so bad for her, though, since what she can do, she can do well. For example, although a significant portion of this power is used as a fuel source for her costume, the sheer amount of raw crazy packed into her perky personality is still enough to cause random locations she focuses on to explode in rainbows, like fireworks. As such, this forms her one and only means of using her powers to fight: making stuff go boom until whoever coming after her isn't doing so anymore. It's flashy, and undoubtedly useful, but not exactly an ideal ability to have, especially for someone so manic that you'd think she should have been designed with an off-switch. As such, telling Mania to fight someone is roughly analogous to firing a guided missile straight at them. They're probably not going to get out of the blast radius unscathed, but neither is anything around them. Suffice to say, before she officially made herself known under the alias of "Mistress Mania," there's a very good reason her unofficial designations by the Peace Brigade were all things like "Collateral Damage Lady" or "Sugar Bomb."

    Interestingly enough, the things affected by her emotions seem to include herself. When her powers awakened for the first time as a child, her sheer energy was enough to cause something to happen to her body. At age nine, the girl known as Alice Lane disappeared without a trace, vanishing into thin air in front of several eye-witnesses. Now, some eleven years later, Mistress Mania has appeared seemingly from thin air, introducing herself formally by that same name despite looking completely different. Furthermore, after that incident, she hasn't aged since - either physically, or in temperament. Her body also seems to heal unnaturally fast, always restoring itself to the appearance and level of functionality it jumped to during that incident. However, this process always requires some sort of "reset" to take effect, in the form of her somehow losing consciousness. Once she's either fainted or passed out or fallen asleep, she begins rapidly regenerating, so as to almost always be in peak condition by the time she wakes up.

    On that note, Mania essentially has two settings. Either she's awake - in which case she's running around like a rabbit hooked up to an intravenous cocktail of Speed and pure sugar - or she's asleep, in which case she's completely unconscious, and can't be awakened by any means until she's rested herself up. There is no in between. Her sleep schedule doesn't seem to work like a normal person's, either, with her periods of unconsciousness solely being determined by overuse of her powers. If she focuses too much on manifesting energy, she just suddenly conks out afterward, and sleeps like a log for roughly ten hours before awakening as though nothing ever happened. However, if she didn't use her powers much, she could stay awake for a whole month without ever showing signs of fatigue. That is, unless one thing were to happen.

    Namely, if somebody were to deprive her of sweets, her abilities, as they are, would simply cease working. She'd become almost narcoleptic, dozing off at random times, with her body completely failing to recover from any and all wounds. Moreover, she'd be unable to manifest even a single spark, and even her physical movements would become sluggish and weak, like those of a small, very sleepy child. As such, the singular greatest weakness Mania possesses - her own personal kryptonite - is lack of sugar. But, were someone to resort to such dastardly methods to defeat her, could they even be called Human? Even supervillains have standards, after all. Just because you'd kill and destroy for personal profit doesn't mean you'd even dream of doing something so utterly soulless, so black-hearted, so unfathomably cruel, as taking away someone's sweets... right?
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XX"Check it out! Uncle Dan gave me WINGS! Aren't they so cool?~"
XXXXXXXXNotes: Stop calling me "Uncle Dan." I have a title. Use it.
XXXXXXXXAlso, those wings are purely cosmetic. Do not attempt to use them for flight.
XXXXXXXXYou will fall and hit your head, and you're bad enough already.
XXXXXXXXBesides, your built-in energy modulator allows you to walk across thin air anyway.
XXXXXXXXI don't care if it's not "the same," it's good enough! You can already practically fly anyway!
XXXXXXXXAlso, that bodysuit is meant to be worn as a concealed inner armor.
XXXXXXXXYou're not supposed to just wear it and nothing else.
XXXXXXXXIf people can see how it works, it completely defeats the point.
XXXXXXXXThat much aside, stop flaunting yourself and put on some damn pants already, woman.
XXXXXXXXWe're villains. We have to look CLASSY. You're giving us all a bad image.
XXXXXXXXYou're not even reading these notes, are you?
XXXXXXXXSometimes I wonder why I even bother with you.
XXXXXXXXLook, just get back to the lair before midnight, okay?
XXXXXXXXI don't want you staying out late. It's dangerous, with all those heroes prowling around.
XXXXXXXXBesides, you get into enough trouble without even fighting. Seriously, you're such a handful.
XXXXXXXXJust hurry home already, alright?
XXXXXXXXThe rest of the minions ordered pizza.
XXXXXXXXI think there's some left in the fridge if you want to eat dinner.
XXXXXXXXAlso, clean your room already. That mess is utterly shameful.
XXXXXXXXSincerely, Dantalian, Dastardly Doctor of Dangerous and Dreadful Disciplines.

Personality
  • Mistress Mania is CRAZY.

    Now that we've gotten the obvious out of the way, I'll elaborate. Quite simply, when her age abruptly jumped from young girl to adult woman, her personality didn't seem to change a bit. And, even through the years that have passed since then, she has stayed pretty much exactly the same. Naive, somewhat dim, and incredibly energetic, she goes through life with her head in the clouds, focusing only on two things: eating as much tasty food as she can - especially sweets - and having as much fun as is superhumanly possible. And, since she has essentially no possessions of her own aside from her costume, and no place to call home, there's really only one way for her to get by. A supervillain who commits small-time robberies to pay for candy wouldn't be much of a supervillain - save, perhaps, to people as weird as she is - but, fortunately, her definition of fun is just as bizarre as her motivations, since, as it turns out, there's almost nothing she enjoys more than fighting superheroes. Having grown up reading hero fiction, she evidently grew obsessed with the flashy, adventurous lifestyle she saw there, and so decided to become a small-time villainess as a means of living that way herself.

    Still, despite her questionable career choices, she's not necessarily actually cut out for being a supervillain. Incredibly cheerful and personable, even her enemies will admit she's a surprisingly nice person. Indiscriminately affectionate, she's fond of pretty much everybody she meets, regardless of whether or not they reciprocate. As such, regardless of how much collateral damage she causes, attacks by Mistress Mania tend to have a grand total of 0 casualties. However, at the same time, she tends to inflict rather serious injuries on whatever heroes she fights, as she doesn't really seem to fully grasp the concept of hurting other people, and is of the opinion that holding back while "playing" with someone would be rude. While this does mean she's capable of holding her own in combat, it means that, like with fire, one should be careful when playing with Mistress Mania. You might get burned.

    Childishly gullible, she's also very easy to convince of things, since she tends to believe just about anything she hears. Although enthusiastic, as it turns out, she can also be incredibly lazy, as, easily bored by genuine work, she has a tendency to skip out on jobs in favor of doing fun things. As such, it usually takes some convincing - read: blatant lies - to give her sufficient incentive to actually do something she's averse to. Like, "Oh, Mania, did you know? I'm building a device to create infinite amounts of chocolate, with which I'll flood the entire world. I just need you to fetch X, Y, and Z parts so that I can complete it," when said device is actually just a death ray or a killer robot or something else an upstanding mad scientist might create.

    Fortunately, once "convinced" - read: shamelessly exploited - Mania is actually a surprisingly competent assistant, fitting right in with her chosen role of "World's Best Rent-A-Minion." So long as she thinks she's doing something that will result in lots of fun and is given a comfy place to sleep when her powers catch up with her - as well as plenty of sweets to keep her charged - Mania will follow the orders given her to the best of her ability, and, perhaps more importantly, will both distract and defend against any of those pesky heroes trying to stop your brilliant plan to turn the inhabitants of the local orphanage into sapient sharks and release them into the city. ...She can still be really annoying to put up with while one is housing her, however, which is probably why she never has the same employer for any great length of time. She thinks it's more fun this way, though, since by constantly changing masters, she gets to meet new people and do all sorts of new things. Like build death rays! Or like riling up, then releasing all the elephants from the city zoo and riding the resulting stampede through the front door of the Peace Brigade's headquarters to make a statement about... about... something. Well, whatever. The point is that it was AWESOME.

    Good times.

History
  • As mentioned in powers, Alice Lane was last seen roughly eleven years ago. She was an unremarkable, if cheerful child, born into an unremarkable household to unremarkable parents. She lived an unremarkable life, idolizing hero stories like many other unremarkable children. She did fairly well in school, played with friends, got into fights, and generally didn't do anything out of the ordinary.

    That is, until the day where she stood up in the middle of her classroom, laughing hysterically at thin air. When asked by her teacher what was the matter, she merely beamed and said "I get it now!" and then vanished in a flash of multicolored light. Although searches were mounted and local superheroes brought in to look for her, none could find a trace of where she had gone. Not even Farseer, a famous hero renowned for his clairvoyance, was able to sense her anywhere in the world. As such, it was assumed that she'd awakened some sort of volatile power that had, through some means or another, erased her from existence.

    ...Until one day, out of nowhere, a Peace Brigade-sponsored parade had its fireworks show disrupted by an explosion that set off all the fireworks at once, creating a canopy of rainbow light that blanketed the sky. It was assumed that a misfire was responsible, until a mysterious woman stepped forward and innocently said she'd done it, introducing herself by the name of Alice Lane. Although two heroes chased her from the scene and tried to bring her in for questioning, they were caught in a sudden explosion that destroyed an old warehouse where the perpetrator was assumed to be hiding. Both were later recovered, although they were seriously burned in the attack.

    After that point, similar incidents began occurring all over the city, with small banks having their vaults blasted open in the dead of night, with only small sums taken from within. The strange woman with red eyes and two toned hair was eventually located due to her frequent patronage of candy shops and bakeries, and once again an arrest was attempted. Yet again, however, she slipped through the Peace Brigade's grasp, and vanished into the criminal underworld. Since then, she... hasn't really done much of anything, actually, aside from mooch off of other, more notable Supervillains and do their chores, occasionally appearing as a henchman or an accomplice to fight off some hero or another before vanishing into obscurity. About the only important thing she's done since her initial reappearance is assist the nefarious Dantalian - Dastardly Doctor of Dangerous and Dreadful Disciplines! - in creating his Thought Engine, which has been a target for the Peace Brigade ever since. As such, she's certainly not a particularly effective or infamous supervillain. Under her assumed name of Mistress Mania, most members of the citizenry don't even know of her. Things probably would have continued this way, if a chance encounter with a few specific people hadn't changed her life forever...




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So begins...

Mistress Mania's Story

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#, as written by Feyblue





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Scene 1
The First Night
☆Midnight Magic Hour☆



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





The city lights gleamed dimly on the horizon, their glow fading rapidly into the dark clouds that rolled inexorably over the vast metropolitan landscape. The cars countless stories below gave a faint whine as they sped through the lifeless urban sprawl, like predators prowling in a silent jungle. Alone amidst the darkening skies, a single figure rose, silhouetted against the city skyline by the fading light of the crescent moon. The wind swept over the rooftop of the old apartment complex, causing the black shadow's scarf to billow out behind her as she stared purposefully down at the city below. A flash of red light shone forth as her eyes began to glow like rubies, embers rising into the air around her, trailing off of her long muffler like so many fireflies scattering into the night.

She stared into the darkness of the night, and the darkness of the night... completely failed to pique her interest. Alice Lane, better known by the sobriquet of "Mistress Mania," breathed a heavy sigh, tossing herself dejectedly down upon a nearby air conditioning unit. "Maaan~... It's so boring up here," She grumbled to herself, propping her head upon her palms as she stared dully across the block at the looming shape of one of the city's many bargain-bin ripoffs of famous foreign landmarks. The giant hand of "Little" Ben - which was diminutive only in its incredibly tasteless name - turned ever so slightly, a dull "ka-chunk" resounding throughout the silence of the cityscape.

Mistress Mania pouted, her cheeks puffing up like a child's as she gave a loud chuff of disappointment, abruptly tossing her head back and dangling upside-down over the edge of the air conditioning unit she'd made into her seat - and, by extension, the building it sat on the edge of. Huh. Who'd have thought? She pondered. The city looks just as boring upside-down as it does right-side up. My head hurts now. Flaring her disappointment into a tangible force, she found herself suddenly feeling weightless as her body and costume alike emitted a faint madder red glow. She pushed violently against this solid light, feeling herself snapping upright in an instant, like a vampire rising out of its coffin. Man, it would be cool to be a vampire, she thought. Then I could go around, like, sucking people's blood and turning them into my minions. I guess I wouldn't be able to eat garlic anymore, though. Pizza night would be ruined forever. She sighed again, pacing idly back to the edge of the building to continue staring blankly at the giant clock. Pizza sounds tasty. Man, I'm really hungry right now. I wonder if the Midnight Society serves pizza to their members? That'd be cool. Except then I'd have to share with other people. Bleh. I should take over this city so I can seize control of all the means of pizza production. My reign would be like a communist dictatorship, except I would have all the pizza and everything else wouldn't matter. Wait, what was I thinking about again? Alice blinked. "Oh, right," She mumbled aloud, getting her thoughts back on track as she peered down at the streets below. Why do so many supers seem to think it's fun to stand stock-still on the edges of buildings on windy evenings, anyway?" She stopped, listening in silence to the sounds of the city for a few seconds, then cocking her head to the side. "Actually, better question. Who am I even talking to right now?" Her eyes widened in horror, her hands rising to her cheeks as she did the century's best impression of "The Scream." "Oh no! It's happening! I'm turning into one of those crazy vigilantes who lurk on top of buildings and talk to themselves! Pretty soon I'll be saying stuff like 'I AM THE NIGHT' and disappearing randomly whenever people stop looking at me!" She fell to her knees, covering her eyes as she sobbed theatrically, hamming it all the way up for her imaginary audience. "Nooooo~...." She whined pathetically. "I don't want to be a serious character... They're no fun!"

Fortunately for her, there was exactly a 0% chance of that happening! A loud chime rang out through the air, and she leaped to her feet in the blink of an eye, her expression of discontent instantly replaced by a manic grin as she skipped her way to the edge of the rooftop, intoning a loud "ding-doooooooooooooooooong~" in a childish sing-song harmony with the immense clock as she bounded towards it. "Yay~, look, it's midnight! It's finally time~!" She cheered, flapping her arms behind her like a giddy schoolgirl as she hopped up onto the edge of the building... and then straight off the edge, right out into thin air. Unlike Wile E. Coyote, however, she didn't seem to be concerned by the fact that gravity shouldn't actually allow you to do that, or by the downward plunge that usually followed the acknowledgement of that fact. A pinkish-red flash paved her way, catching her feet with each hop she took. The clock chimed once again, and she timed her steps to its rhythm, using this impromptu metronome to keep the beat as she began to sing. "Ooh, believe it or not, I'm walkin' on air~, never thought I could feel so free~eeeee~eeeeeee!" She, surprisingly, managed to at least stay within an octave or so of the rising note she was trying to hit, although this was probably just a fortuitous accident. "Flyin' away on a wing and a prayer, whooooo could it beeeeeee~?" She hummed in time with her own imaginary background music as she gracefully hopped up onto a windowsill on the side of the grand tower, spinning into a pirouette like a whirling dervish before abruptly spreading her arms and taking a theatrical bow, drinking in the applause that existed only within the confines of her imagination. "Believe it or not, it's just me!" She concluded, suddenly perfectly on key. "Thank you, thank you!" She proclaimed triumphantly, taking several more bows that really should have carried her straight off the side of the building, given the level of enthusiasm present in each.

Righting herself, she pivoted on the ball of her foot, grinning ear to ear as she reached out towards a brick in the wall to the side of the window she perched on the edge of. "Now, then, at midnight I was supposed to push a thing and then..." She mumbled, pushing the brick in. She got no further than this, however, for the instant she did so, the window suddenly detached itself from its frame, spinning around and clobbering her from the side, catapaulting her head first into the aperture the "window" had been built to hide.

A cry of surprise swiftly changed to delighted laughter as Mania slid, skidded, rolled, and tumbled down the smooth tube, managing to right herself just in time to find herself flying straight out the end of the slide. "WHEE!~" She exclaimed, flipping head-over-heels as she fell straight out of one of the walls of what looked to be some kind of dining room, crashing head-first into one of the many chairs drawn up beside the long table that formed the room's centerpiece and tumbling along with it off towards the far wall. The chair bounced, launching the giggling "supervillain" upward as though she'd just bounced off a trampoline, and then landed once again on its legs, skidding to a stop against the far wall as Mania came tumbling back down, somehow managing to, in spite of all odds, land seated cross-legged upon the chair, a goofy grin spread wide across her face as she tried to get her bearings.

Oooooh man, sooooo dizzy, She thought, shaking her head from side to side as she tried to stop the world from spinning. She was in like, some sort of really big room, and there was stuff there, like a giant table, and two people on each end... no, wait, that was one person on each end, she was just seeing double. Anyway, there was this really big guy, who was like- woah, no, seriously, that guy was BIG. Anyway, he was wearing a suit, and had his own personal giant chair to go with his giant self, so that probably meant he was the guy in charge. Let's see, what were you supposed to do to greet your new boss again?

...

Mania gave a cheerful smile and a rather wobbly wave, hopping to her feet on top of her chair and launching into a rather unexpected monologue. "If I may make the most miniscule of manifestations, I must make measure of whether you are the messenger who manufactured the marvelous midnight missive that mentioned this majestic mansion and marked the means by which to make way to this meeting. Are you the mastermind of this malarkey? Mayhaps it is meaningless at such a magnificent moment. Mind not my mannerisms, and merely make a memory of my moniker: Mistress Mania, a masterful mercenary minion of many maniacs and makers of mayhem matching yourself."

Concluding her rant, Mania froze, still posing on top of her chair. She placed a finger to her lips in a thoughtful manner, seeming to ponder what she'd just said.

"Huh. That sounded better in my head, actually," She mumbled, tossing herself back down into her chair before scooting back up to the table, her attention evidently caught by the many multicolored bits of confectionery lovingly laid out before her. Snatching up several small cookies, she began to munch on them cheerfully, presenting much the same image as a squirrel having found a particularly tasty nut. Her craving for sweets satisfied, and her introduction completed, she glanced back and forth from one end of the table to the other, staring curiously at the huge man who had evidently called her there.

"Sho," She said between mouthfuls of cookie. "Whatsh yur name?" She gulped down the last of her current treat and reached for another. "No, wait, lemme guess. Is it... Colossus? No, no, too easy. Maybe Titan? Or Goliath? Gigantor, maybe? Hmm..." She abruptly pounded a fist into her open palm, grinning from ear to ear. "I've got it! You must be Emperor Maximus Titanicus Giganticus Humongous Mucho Grande Very-very-big-icus. DeLarge. The Third." She nodded, seeming satisfied that this was clearly the only possible answer, before turning to the man at the other end of the table. "And you're..." She stopped, her eyes widening in surprise and recognition as her already massive grin broadened considerably. "Mr. HAMBURGLAR?! You're here too? Long time no see!" Mania exclaimed, pointing excitedly at the helmeted, stripe-wearing man, whose no-doubt noisome nickname she had been the primary source of, although she, for her part, didn't see anything wrong with it, and couldn't fathom why the man in question disliked it so. Oh well, She thought resignedly. He'll come around sooner or later.

"Yeah, I'm pretty much the best at names. Nom." She mused to herself aloud, giving a muffled giggle that was quickly silenced completely by another cookie disappearing into the bottomless abyss of her stomach.

...Now if only they had free pizza, this would be perfect.

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The slightly awkward silence that had slowly settled back over the room was shattered as a woman came literally flying out of a wall, the opening to the trap door closing almost as quickly as it had opened. Stretch couldn't help but visibly wince as the poor girls head collided with one of the unoccupied chairs next to him, his eyes continuing to follow the oddly dressed girl as she flew across the room in a random path of destruction before finally colliding with the wall in a spectacular display that shot her up into the air. Instead of winding sprawled out on the floor in a painful heap the girl landed gracefully in her seat against the far wall, an amazing feat Stretch couldn't help but be somewhat impressed by. And then she started monologuing her introduction as those in their business tend to do. The rhyming in her opening speech made Stretch Frown-working one heist with The Painful Pun was more than enough to make him swear of working with all literary obsessed villains ever again. They were just so annoying and sometimes downright confusing.

As Mania noisily scooted her way back over to the table Stretch gave her a more serious once over, thankful all the while that his black visor completely hid his eyes. The girl was definitely on the small side and rather eye catching, yet at the same time something just seemed off about her when Stretch watched her. It was like her body was proportioned just a little to well or something equally as weird and obscure-he couldn't quite whatever it was but it still made his skin crawl a bit. The way she energetically rambled on to their mystery benefactor seemed to suit her odd and perky behavior, and then out of nowhere she brought up the Hamburgler.

The God damn Hamburgler.

Stretch could feel his jaw tighten in anger as his already frowning face seemed to sink even lower. It didn't help matters that at that very time it just so happened he was holding an expertly crafted cheeseburger. Quickly he put the burger back on his plate, disgusted in himself for even picking the item up in the first place. Some witty quip about her weird scarf thing that wouldn't stop flapping obnoxiously around the room would surely put her in her place! "Yeah well-" Stretch began only to be cut off by the booming voice of the mystery man in white.

The giant white suit at the end of the table let out a genuine, if somewhat annoyed, chuckle at the end Manias manic introduction and questioning. He didn't bother answering the numerous questions, sure to himself that any attempt at doing so would have merely been interrupted with yet another random question. After giving him the grand name of 'Emperor Maximus Titanicus Giganticus Humongous Mucho Grande Very-very-big-icus DeLarge The Third' he decided that now was the time to give this group of freaks something to call him. When Mania began shoveling cookies in her mouth he took the brief moment of silence to finally answer back.

"I'm sure your a woman of many talents. Now please, call me Mr. E." His thunderous voice rolled over the table as he stared at the pair with kind eyes. "Cleverly" he pronounced his second new name 'Mr. E' as 'mystery', a fact he really emphasized in the wording as if worried people somehow wouldn't get it. Sadly it just made the name come off forced and weird, like a friend trying to convince you that toupee on his head is real hair.

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Scene 1
First Night
××Twisted Encounters××



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









The streetlights brightned the street. There were no cars driving by, and nobody was around. The road was lifeless. But there was one girl. She sat on a bench balling her eyes out. Why? She had just been dumped by the love of her life. And on their 2 year anniversary? How harsh. He said she was keeping a secret from him. As a matter of fact, she was. You might be suprised, but was a super villian. A C-List. The lowest rank you could possibly be. Her name is Aryll. As a villian, she named herself 'Twisted Cheshire', or just Cheshire as people like to call her. Aryll wouldn't stop crying. She was in a state where she was broken, and when Aryll is sad, it's hard to fix her. She really did love that man. So now she was sitting on a bench waiting for the next bus to come. It didn't seem like anytine soon she would hear the rumbling of the engine or the screeching wheels. She was there alone. Aryll couldn't help but think of what she would be doing right now if she was in her apartment. I wish I was on my couch right now snuggling in my blanket, watching a romance movie while eating mutiple icecream cartons.... no, scratch that... romance movies would make it worse... She continued to cry again. She didn't have one of those weeping cries, she had a small, soft cry that would make you want to help her. Although she didn't show it, Aryll had a lot of emotional pains inside.

She decided to get that off of her mind. She glanced over to her purse. She opened it up revealing a letter she read earlier. She believed it had something to do with The Midnight Society. Where the best of the best go. Why did they want a C-List such as herself? The world may never know... The clock tower showed 3 minutes till 12:00. She had to get going. Aryll went behind a bush and transformed into her cat self. She ran as fast as she could toward the tower. "Little Ben's Clock Tower. 12:00. The top door, and I mean TOP." The letter had said. She only had 3 minutes to get there. She jumped from roof to roof until she got there, and she was finally there. She changed back, and smoothed out her black knee-high dress as her long brown hair flowed behind her. Sbe pushed open the front door as she made her way to the top.

...

As Aryll opened the top door, she walked out onto the roof. But there was one problem. Nobody was there. Was it a fake? She thought about that until she saw a manhole in the shape of a clock. Ok, so this is where it was.. She carefully put her black flats down the tube, and she put her hair over her shoulders. As she went feet first into the tube, she screamed. "EEEEK!" As she flew out of the other side, she landed on her bottom and stood. All eyes were on her. She blushed out if embarrasment. "U-um...." She got even more scared. Tears gathered in her eyes, threatning to fall. Her face was as red as a tomato. She put her shoes back on and walked over to the table, not saying a word. Her bangs covered her eyes, so the only thing they could see was how much she blushed and her mouth. Soon the thought of her now ex-boyfriend came back to her. She wouldn't let the tears fall, but no matter how hard she tried, the tears fell. Her soft, quiet cries started once again.

They would have some trouble getting her back to happiness... espeically when their dealing with a somewhat crazy cat.

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Bay City - Dr Grav



Curiously, the message simply faded into dust. What had until been recently an intact paper message, had in seconds fallen to pieces. This must truly be the midnight society, what luck! Karl Wilson, alternatively named Dr Grav, stood at the side of the road, silhouetted against the dim lighting of the Bay city streets. Reaching his arm to the sky, he hailed a taxi to travel to the previously mentioned Little Ben clock tower. Entering the car, Wilson slumped in the chair, parroting the place name as it was written on the note to the driver, then pausing and darting his eyes to the mirror, locking eyes with a vacant looking cab driver.

Wilson was still in suit as he sat in the car, a purple eggplant asking for a ride. After a few seconds the driver, unimpressed, said "Whatever, pal" cranking the handbrake and driving out. The brief embarrassment had dampened Wilson's spirits, as he moved considerably slower as he exited the cab, craning his head to survey Little Ben, ironically named considering it rivalled the size of it's overseas cousin. Regardless, the aspiring criminal genius Dr Grav was still determine to join the big leagues of the villainous elite. Standing at the base of the tower, Grav focused his power upon his body. Lighter? What better to get to the top of the tower he thought. The force of the wind suddenly hit him like a train, uh oh, too light, went through his mind as the wind scooped him off his feet like a leaf, being taken where nature decided as he flailed helplessly in the air.

Falling to the top of the tower with a thud as gravity returned his weight to him, Grav peered up hearing the echoed cries and conversations of people within. On top of all this, the event had started without him, typical.

Making his way inside, the dark city night gave way to a warm, homely room filled with food lavishly laid out a great table. Noticing the others already inside, Grav was somewhat disheartened that the society spread the invitation to others. Despite this, he attempted to console the young girl immediately in front of him bawling her eyes out. "Er, don't worry... I wanted to be the only one here as well" completely misreading the situation. As he stood awkwardly to the side, noticing the authoritative man at the edge of the table, he wanted nothing more than to fight, defeat him, then take his place in the midnight society. However he fought this tendency, instead oddly flexing at the edge of the table as he wrestled with that area of his personality.

Resounding to quell his violent need to be the best, Grav snatched up a sandwich from the table, asking "So, what's going on here?" with a mouth full of bread.

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#, as written by Feyblue





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Scene 2
The First Night
☆Mr. E-ous Meeting!☆



|| Location ✦ Bay City ~ Little Ben ||
|| State of Mind ✧ Ooh, look, a kitty! ^_^ ||





Mania cocked her head to the side, looking confused as the man in white introduced himself. In her experience, every Supervillain had an alias, and an appearance, that were thematically appropriate to their identity and abilities. Emperor Max here was impossibly huge, which meant he probably had some sort of power that had transformed his body, and doubtless possessed unimaginable strength. Yet, far from a grandiose title reflecting that, he'd chosen to go by Mr. E.

It wasn't that Mania didn't get the joke. It was an amusing play on words, but it just didn't seem right. The only Supervillains with names like "Enigma" or "Mysterio" were always the sneaky ones with really gimmicky abilities, like illusions or whatever. This guy didn't fit the image at all, no matter how she tried to puzzle out the reasoning behind that identity. That is, until...

Mania grinned, once again pounding a fist firmly in her open palm. "I get it!" She declared cheerfully. "The E stands for Enormous!"

Silence punctuated her statement as the room's other two occupants doubtless wondered at how somebody could miss the point so completely. Fortunately, at that moment, a trapdoor in the floor opened and dispensed a strange purpley lady who shuffled over to the table and sat down, looking rather glum. But Mania hardly noticed her very transparent heartbreak - or, in fact, that she wasn't the only new person who had entered the room - because there were three very prominent things about the young woman that distracted her from realizing that fact.

Mania stared intensely at the newcomer seated near her, scrutinizing her carefully, trying to figure out if what she was looking at was really real. But there didn't seem to be any sort of headband on her head, nor was there any obvious point of attachment between her tail and her back. She could only conclude one thing.

"Kitty!" She exclaimed gleefully, pouncing from her seat and delivering a very unexpected tackle-hug to the heartbroken newcomer, a faint pink glow materializing to keep her hanging horizontally in the air beside the purple girl she had decided to glomp. Grinning ear to ear, she reached up and started patting her victim very enthusiastically on the head, giving a childish giggle of delight. "Aww, your ears are so fluffy! Who's a good purple kitty?~" Turning her attention back to Mr. E, she asked, what she felt, was a very pertinent and relevant question.

"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~?"

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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.

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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.
---

Image

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".

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

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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.
---

Image

"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.
---

Image

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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#, as written by Lyysa
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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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- 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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Character Portrait: Stretch Character Portrait: Mistress Mania Character Portrait: Arctic Wolf Character Portrait: Dr Grav Character Portrait: Twisted Cheshire
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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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Character Portrait: Stretch Character Portrait: Mistress Mania Character Portrait: Arctic Wolf Character Portrait: Dr Grav Character Portrait: Twisted Cheshire
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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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Character Portrait: Stretch Character Portrait: Mistress Mania Character Portrait: Arctic Wolf Character Portrait: Dr Grav
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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.