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Fandom Fools Rush In (Always Accepting)

OOC
Here
Characters
Here
Lore
Here

Neon Valkyrie

She Who Is Called I Am

Welcome Welcome Welcome to Fools Rush In, a gritty superhero RP ... which is full ... so yeah ... read on intrepid person whom I've already accepted, read on.

November City
You used to see the ads everywhere during the nineties: November City, the city of today, and tomorrow, invest now. It was corny, even then. A government-subsidized urban development program, they called it. An attempt to put people back to work after the recession, to offer an alternative to the already crowded major cities of the continental US. It was just another housing project, another way to stack humans on top of one another and sell them shit. Investments were record-breaking in the first few years. Every major company wanted a piece, wanted to bookmark their place in the city before it was open to the public, wanted a street named after them, or their logo on a building. The waterfront and downtown areas seemed to spring up overnight, and within the first year the veiny outline of streets could be seen stretching out in designs covering hundreds of square kilometres. It was really happening, a brand new city.

The first major setback happened in '96, just a year and a half into construction. A shipment of substandard steel caused three completed buildings in Mid-Town to collapse. Workers died, surrounding structures and equipment were damaged. Other buildings had to be stress-tested and in the end the remaining materials were marked for use in smaller buildings, despite the flaws in their manufacturing. Late shipments, legal disputes, the managing of over a million construction workers ... it was almost foolish to assume any project of this size would run smoothly. Investors lost confidence, dollars stopped flowing in, existing partners began demanding their money back, or worse, demanded MORE for their money.

By the time Mid-Town and the Suburbs were finished in 2001 most major financial publications were calling investment in November "poisonous," or "akin to lighting your money on fire." Corners had to be cut, lay-offs had to be made, and less reputable investors had to be allowed through the usually rigorous vetting process.

From here, the streets of November spell out their own downfall. With more than half of the city yet to be built, you could very clearly draw a chalk line between the suburbs, where the construction stopped, and Melrose, where it began a new. Franklin was the last area to be built, the largest; simple, low income housing jammed in as high as the sub-standard steel would hold. It was an area intended for the lowest income workers in November, and would be connected by a revolutionary tram system ... at least, in the original plans. Utilities were, under the new investors, considered an opportunity for the private market to thrive. And so, in the spring of 2009, the ribbons were cut, the gates were opened, and the city-wide open house began. Of course, in the months before the grand opening all vital roles in the city had been filled; Police, doctors, firefighters, civil employees, postal workers and the likes, but only to skeleton crew levels. The expectation was that people would rush in to fill the roles as the population grew ... and they were right, sort of. There were people alright. People by the millions. Too many people, and too few capable of filling the roles they needed.

Inside of a decade November went from an investors nightmare to a literal nightmare, with crime-ridden streets, large percentages of poverty, institutions rife with corruption. Other cities had superheroes, but they were busy with their own battles, with the kind of threats that called for Gods. Other cities had fully equipped and staffed police forces, November just had survival of the fittest. It has become a place angels feared to tread. So whether you're a have or a have not, whether you were born powerful, or had to work for it, this is the story of you rushing in.


Areas:
Waterfront:
While a small chunk of this area is devoted to the port authority, the rest is considered the fanciest part of town. The ritziest hotels that won't answer the phone, the nicest restaurants you can't get into, the coolest clubs that the celebrities all go to. That cafe that puts gold in the croissants, the nail salon that everyone is talking about. The most powerful and popular businesses have their headquarters here, and only the richest of the rich hold one of the few penthouses dotting the skyline ... though enough to justify the private school and church.

Downtown:
Downtown is where everything happens. City hall, the head office of the bank, the police headquarters, the civic arena, the university ... anything prestigious or important can be found downtown. That can be said of the people too, swathed in luxurious condos, the kind with french doors and island kitchens.

Midtown:
No one really lives in mid-town, it's purely a business district. This is where you'll find economy hotels, sports and music venues, theatres, postal headquarters, bank branches, car dealerships, wholesale clubs, outlet stores, and the November City Mall. There are also plenty of towering office buildings, but not a house or apartment in sight.

The Suburbs:
This is where the upper-middle class, the middle-level crime lords, and generally the middle of everything lives. A small sea of two story houses with garages and little planned micro-malls every now and again to keep everyone fed and on trend. There isn't much to do here unless you live here, or you're visiting someone who does. While the police do provide some level of protection here, people rarely try anything here. Kicking down a door has a good chance of getting you shot, if not by a protective homeowner, than by the gangsters you interrupted.

Melrose:
The "up and coming" district, this is where the lower-middle class live. Nice-ish apartment buildings, franchise stores, an actual police presence, there is less street crime and vagrancy in Melrose than in Franklin, but only because the crime here happens out of sight. Melrose is where you'll find a coke dealer, a prostitute with all her teeth, black market goods, but you'll also find Wal-mart, Starbucks, thrift stores, craft breweries, and pawn shops. It's still not wise to walk alone at night.

Franklin:
This isn't somewhere you live by choice. Living in Franklin is only slightly more respectable than being homeless. You don't walk at night unless you carry a piece, you don't make eye contact with anyone unless you're looking to start something, and you say goodbye to anything valuable you're carrying before you cross into the area. If you live here, it's worse, like living in a war zone. Police don't even come around anymore, and whatever ghost of law there once was is upheld by security thugs, and not like the ones in the Waterfront. There are dozens of companies, but the employees are all the same: Ex-cons, cons-to-be, anyone big and dumb and ready to open fire works for them. They patrol businesses "keeping the peace." Housing is borderline dilapidated, utilities aren't reliable, neither is the safety of your home. People either live in twenty-story concrete housing complex buildings with cramped rooms and sketchy neighbours, or in slumlord-run town homes built side-by-side for miles. Some people just live in the streets, unable to work due to injury or infirmity. This is the largest borough of November city, encompassing 324 Square Kilometres.

177Th:
Industrial properties, warehouses, shipping and storage yards, industrial garages, most of this area isn't of particular interest to the public. There is an active criminal presence here, however, as a number of gangs use the warehouses as covers for their illicit activities.


Rules!
... Mostly I trust you, but it's probably best to have it written down somewhere that I expect everyone to be respectful of one another, of the RP, and of the site. That's all. Have fun.
 
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| Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday | Friday | Saturday | Sunday|

| January | February | March | April | May | June | July | August | September | October | November | December |

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |
| 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |
| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 |
| 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 |
| 29 | 30 | 31 |

2023

Weather

The forecast calls for a strong, east-bound wind all day. Mixed clouds will give way to overcast skies, and there will be heavy snowfall after dark. Snowfall will continue into tomorrow morning.​


Events and Activities
Please note: NPCs can be controlled by anyone. Also, these are not all happening at the same time, They're just here as kind of ... official plot hooks, community events ... people are welcome to suggest some too :P

Bank Robbery (Melrose) Status: Active
Villains: 10 combatants with a variety of guns.
CAUTION: Civilian bank manager is in the crossfire.
A van has rammed through the window of the main Bank of America branch in north Melrose. Police have been dispatched to the scene, but are not there yet. Ten men, armed with weapons brought from their homes, wearing street clothes and balaclavas, are reported to have kidnapped and beaten the bank manager for the codes to the vault, and are currently loading up bags of cash.

Break-in (Melrose) Status: Active
Villains: Shock-Jockey and Manon
Residents of the east side of Melrose have reported what sounds like an explosion nearby, preceeding a massive power outage affecting the area. This is likely related to the silent alarm triggered in a medical technology wholesale store that was triggered just moments later. The alarm company dispatched a rent-a-cop to check it out a little while ago, but haven't heard back from him since. His car is idling outside the building with its lights on, and the rent-a-cop is likely dead.

Shock-Jockey: A woman of small stature, she has the ability to deliver powerful electrical charges into anything she touches.
Manon: A large, hefty man with thinning hair, he can fire explosive blasts from his stomach.

Hostage Situation (Midtown) Status: Active
Villains: 7 combatants armed with machine pistols, and 1 man with a bomb vest.
CAUTION: There are 15 hostages, two of whom have been wounded superficially. The bomb attached to the leader is set to detonate if his heart stops, but can likely be triggered manually as-well. The blast radius of the bomb is 300 feet.
A team of heavily armoured men, one wearing a bomb tied to a heart monitor, are holding the board of directors of a local newspaper hostage. Clearly unstable, the men are demanding written confessions from the boardmembers, admitting to their active participation in a variety of wing-nut conspiracies generally relating to social control and mass hypnosis. The leader of the group, the man wearing the bomb, is currently evangelizing over the phone to a local radio station, which is airing the call live.

Rooftop Shootout (Midtown) Status: Active
Villains: 15 combatants in black-ops gear, armed with assault rifles, moving toward a waiting helicopter/19 Security personnel, carrying MP5s, in suits and light body armour.
News aircraft have spotted an active shootout taking place on top of a large office building downtown. No reports have been filed by the company that owns the building, Epicomm, but shots are being exchanged, and there are visibly wounded combatants on all sides. Epicomm has refused entry to police, claiming that their roof is their own concern.

Apartment Fire (Franklin) Status: Active
Villains: Afterburner (See below)
A 30-storey apartment building has caught fire in the slums. Local volounteer fire-fighters are on the scene, but a man calling himself Afterburner, who also claims responsibility for the fire, is keeping them from intervening. The fire is spreading to adjacent buildings, and the police precinct in the area has issued a statement that they are unequipped to deal with the offender, but have requested assistance from the military.

A short man with burn scars covering half his face. He wears a thick, flame retardant coverall, the kind you could get at walmart, to which he has affixed rough-hewn metal plating for armour. His primary method of attack is using the fire gauntlets he wears on either hand. Each holding their own armoured compressor tank of highly flammable ammunition, the gauntlets are able to propel jets of sticky, flaming gel up to 50 feet.

Gang Battle (Franklin) Status: Active
Villains:A large number of lightly armed combatants from two rival street gangs.
CAUTION: Civilians are in the area.
Reports are pouring in of a violent shootout across multiple streets in Franklin, a clash between two local gangs engaging in a turf war. One gang has managed to hold-up in a building, though they have taken heavier losses, and the situation has turned into a siege. Police have yet to issue a comment, but it is unlikely that they will respond.


Black Market Weapons Deal (117TH) Status: Active
Villains: 6 armed combatants/6 armed combatants
Word has it there's some kind of deal going down at the docks tonight, high grade military hardware. No one will say who's selling and who's buying, but they sounds like some high-paid, cartel types. There is a white van idling on scene, and a black SUV has just pulled up.


 
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☼ Neon ☼
a.k.a. Danielle Smith
Power

Condition: Nominal
Location: Franklin - Apartment Fire
Players: N/A
It was a cold night. The wind had picked up, blowing frozen air in from the sea, drawing the curtain of black clouds that loomed overhead ever inland. It was going to snow again soon. Waves lapped up over the sea wall and into the streets of the waterfront district. The force of the wind shook branches from trees, strewed debris across manicured lawns, even pulled down power lines. It would all be cleaned up tomorrow. That's what it was like in November. That's what it was like everywhere. If you had the money, your problems were temporary, evaporating with the new dawn. If you didn't, all you had were problems, constantly wondering what would be taken from you next; you money, your security, your home, your life? You learned quickly that nothing was sacred, that nothing was really yours, just borrowed, and it was only yours as long as you could keep it. You have to live in it to understand it. You have to understand it to change it.

Danni was deep in thought as she peered down at the city from the roof of the old cathedral, perched next to a gargoyle with her lack of attention written across her face. She'd been so worried about going out tonight, about getting herself into trouble again. Her injuries still ached occasionally, like bruises that only hurt when she remembered them. They were good reminders about the cost of getting cocky. A snowflake landed on her cheek. It startled her a little, made her shiver. Why hadn't she brought a scarf or something, she was freezing ... she could only hope to encounter some kind of ... yarn based criminal ... or a knit-bomber. She heaved a sigh, which rolled visibly off into the winter air, maybe she would warm up if she got moving.

Lifting off from the roof, Danni zipped her jacket closed before continuing her patrol, sweeping aimlessly over streets. She listened, trying to hear the call of chaos through the night, but it got harder and harder to hear anything as the snowflakes grew. She'd almost decided to stop again when the sound of a fire-engine siren blared to life somewhere nearby. She was just above the fire station. Pausing for a moment, Danni spun in place, scanning the snowy surroundings for any sign of where they were headed. She spotted it almost immediately, in the direction she'd come from. A five-alarm fire that had sprung up in one of the many blocks of apartment buildings. Had she really flown past it, or over it, without noticing? She scolded herself silently, not even considering that it might have appeared suddenly.

She took off like a bolt, a silver comet streaking across the sky. She caught up with the fire engine at the fire, though another pump truck was already there, its sirens off, its crew standing back from the blaze ... what were they doing? She could hear the screams of the inhabitants trapped inside as the sirens cut out, hear them over the roar of the fire. Turning to circle again, Danni was startled by a plume of fire that billowed up under her, licking at her boots as she rose upward to avoid it. As it burned itself out behind her, Danni turned and peered down at the street, where a man in ramshackle armour stood glowering at her, his fists lowered, but his stance threatening.

Screams echoed out of the building as shapes appeared in the windows. Those who could had already scrambled down the fire escape. Those who couldn't found themselves unable to use the hallway, the stairs, the elevator. Afterburner had seen to that. With Danni hovering around just out of range, the armoured man began to move toward the next building, a jet of fire shooting from his hand, leaving a flaming streak across the front wall. A little stunned, Danni hadn't quite expected to find herself in such high stakes so quickly. She looked worriedly to the building. The fire department had taken an inflatable landing pad from their truck, but the fiery villain was still too close to risk setting it up.


Lure him away, or help rescue people herself? Every nanosecond mattered. She could carry people down maybe one, two at a time, but giving the fire fighters a chance to set up their landing pad could save dozens ...

Swooping down over Afterburner, he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, swinging around and raising both hands. Danni's eyes went wide. She knew what was coming, she had to do something. Dropping to the ground hard, the flames sizzled in the air above her, and as the villain swept his hands down toward her, a sparkling forcefield sprang into being between them. Her heart pounding in her chest, Danni stood up carefully, sure to keep at least one hand pressed against the stationary field. She'd formed a bubble around the man, It would hold as long as she stood there ... hopefully. Seeing this turn of events, the fire crew scrambled into place, the landing pad inflating with almost comical speed.

... now she just had to figure out what to do with the psychopath she'd trapped in glitter ... if her powers fizzled out during this stalemate, she'd be barbecued in seconds.
 
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Samuel Kannosini
Condition: Nominal
Location: Melrose - Bank Robbery
Players: N/A


Despite being swallowed up by a long-sleeved thermal shirt, sweatshirt, an extra large sweatshirt, thick 5.11 cargo pants, wool socks, and black work boots, Samuel felt chilled to the bone. And even more freezing weather was predicted to arrive before morning. It felt as if the wind alone was sucking out all forms of happiness or satisfaction. A typical day in Melrose.

The police weren't on scene just yet, which was good. He needed to speak with the bank robbers alone, preferably without a truck load of guns being thrown around. The last thing he wanted was to get caught in a firefight between the police and the idiots robbing the bank. With that thought in mind, he strode through the front doors as if he were simply making a withdrawal. Although, really there wasn't much of a front door left. The robbers had deemed it necessary to push a van straight through the glass entrance. The same van was now parked in the middle of the lobby, its rear doors oriented away from the front of the bank.


At the rear, far behind the main line of customer service counters, stood a thick nearly 20 foot high vault door. It was wide open, with light pouring out from inside. Samuel could just make out movement from within, most likely the robbers.

He walked up to the vehicle and rounded the back left corner of it to find a man loading up black duffel bags stuffed to the seams with formerly crisp dollar bills. Another man stood next to him, watching out over the rear of the bank's main lobby. The first man wore a grey sweatshirt, jeans, and black sneakers. The second a black leather jacket zipped up to the collar, dark jeans, and combat boots of some kind. Both wore black balaclavas, and both sported sub-machine guns. They were like the classic MP5, but smaller and with a foregrip under the barrel of the weapon.

Neither of the two men had noticed him yet, so he cleared his throat and began to speak.

"I'm no expert on robbing banks, but I'd think you'd be better off watching the entrance, rather than the back of the lobby." he said dryly. His voice nearly echoed through the vast room.


The leather man spun around first, bringing is weapon up in both hands. The surprise was evident in the man's eyes. The one loading up the money was slower to react, but did so smoothly, training his own weapon on Samuel. He was also the one to speak first.

"Who the fuck are you? You crazy?" the man asked, his voice at a near yell. Samuel merely stood still, he could tell the robber wanted to say more. "Are you one of them supers? Huh? Are you?"

The fear and uncertainty nearly dripped into the air, there was so much of it. Deep down, Samuel found some satisfaction in the effect his presence had achieved.

"My name is... not important. Not now. And yeah, I'm probably crazy.", Samuel spoke so calmly it surprised him. He'd expected much more adrenaline and nerve wracking from himself. "I guess you could call me one, but I'm not like most of the others. For starters, I'm not here to stop you. I'm here to help you."

At this revelation, both of the robbers exchanged a worrisome glance. Samuel didn't blame them, he barely believed his own words. But he needed them to, because he'd rather have the money without breaking them. It'd be difficult to recruit anyone else after that. His thoughts were interrupted as the leather man spoke up.

"Why in the hell would you do that?"

Samuel grinned.

"I want the same thing you do. Money. Now go and fetch the rest of your gang.", Samuel turned back towards the wrecked front door, just as he heard approaching sirens. "I'll make sure you have a clean get away."
 
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CHAMELEON
my heart feels dead inside it's cold and hard and petrified [hover]



adrian adland ■ female ■ chameleon ■ profile
physical state // 6/10
mental state // elated
location // melrose - near break-in
tags // open. maybe someone notices her, or was waiting for someone to enter the building she's in?

It took both of Chameleon's hands to attempt to open the third story window, a task that was not made easier by the howling wind. Just in case, she had latched her elbows onto the side of the apartment as well, although it made her movements more awkward. She had specifically selected the side of the building that was most protected from the wind, but it was worth being safe. She didn't enjoy having her hands away from the surface she was climbing at all.

It was still not an easy task. Glass was a horrible slippery object and had the tendency to make a loud noise when dropped, which would make her inconspicuous entrance very conspicuous. She had specifically hired the two mediocre excuses for villains to cause a distraction in the area so she could escape notice as well as possible.

It probably said something about this mission that Chameleon was only willing to commit the crime when she was reasonably certain the occupants of the apartment were gone, and when her power, the lack of light, and a crime happening nearby ensured no one would pay attention to her. If it wasn't for the ridiculous amount she was being payed, she still wouldn't do it.

Actually, she was suspicious of the job because of the ridiculous amount being payed.

To her, it seemed like a simple break and enter job, with minimal risks involved. Okay, so there's quite a lot of security, makes sense. Large organisations did have little hidey-holes like this that were the last place anyone would look because they were surrounded by hundreds of carbon copies of this place. So get someone to blow out the lights like she did. So there's maybe backup generators and hidden cameras, then you get a lackey who doesn't know the details to do it, and pin it on them. Actually...

Chameleon paused in the process of lowering the window pane gently down onto the floor of the apartment, frowning.

Was she supposed to be the throwaway lackey? She couldn't remember if she figured out about the backup generators herself or when she was being briefed. It could be either, she supposed. it just seemed so blurry in retrospect.

Nah, she decided. They wouldn't pay her that much - up front - if she was replaceable. It took about that much to get her off her butt and do something that wasn't information gathering these days.

The pane of glass came into contact with the carpet with a dull thud, barely audible even from where Chameleon stood, and she gently let the rest of the slide down as well. She wasn't good with windows, but she thought she could put it back into place properly from the outside when she was planning for the job. It would be a shame to leave such a large clue as to where she had came in from.

Before she stepped in, she checked the apartment for obvious signs of security cameras. She caught three places where the light glinted off something, but only two were cameras. None were pointed at the window. The poor fools, but it was a third-floor apartment. Even her body ached from doing that much work.

But there was still a little bit of the difficult part left.

Gingerly, she placed a hand onto the inside wall of the apartment, then another. All the while staying out of the field of view of the two cameras. It was easy enough to stick to the side of the wall, but slightly harder to find a way to the ceiling. It hurt, but it was only temporary, and she had the experience to deal with being upside-down. She clambered over to the nearest camera clumsily, and stuck a patch over it, and did the same to the other. Just in case either was working.

Chameleon dropped down to the floor carefully, a smug smile visible on her face. She wasn't a planner at heart, but it was always satisfying to see something go exactly as she had predicted.

All it took now was a little effort. No skill involved, unless the ability to not turn the apartment upside down was a skill.

She managed to find the files hidden in the desk inside the bedroom adjacent to the living room where she had gotten in from. There was also a camera there - she blocked that one as well, with just a little more pain - but otherwise no other obstacles. Amateurs.

From the same belt pouch where she had gotten her screwdriver from, she drew out a neatly folded piece of paper and placed it onto the desk. She flicked through the manila files until she found the one she was instructed to get, and replaced it with the note.

She didn't know what was in the file - she was paid not to peek, and she had no intention to (well, maybe she did want the information a little, but it wasn't worth getting hurt over) - but she knew exactly what was in the note. After all, they had told her to write it. Anything she wanted, as long as it conveyed the basic message.

She had went with "Please stop".

She had drawn a smiley face underneath as well. It was perfect. It insinuated that the deliverer of the message was powerful enough to know what the inhabitants of the apartment was doing, classy enough to be polite, and untroubled enough by their presence that he/she'd draw a smiley face under the message. All that with two words.

Well, the job was done now. All that remained was cleaning up. She needed to unblock the cameras, put the window back in place, maybe check on the two oafs to make sure they hadn't gotten themselves caught. She hadn't paid them enough for their silence when captured.

Or maybe do a little inconspicuous looting as well. She had sworn off burglary, but when the opportunity was there, well, it would be a shame to not take it.

She spun around on her heel, the confident grin still on her face, and prepared to leave.
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◄N▪E▪O▪N►
Solar Energy
Real Name: Danielle Smith
Condition: Nominal
Location: Franklin - Apartment Fire
Players: N/A

DENTFlames hissed. Water became steam. Braces and beams creaked and groaned, popped and sizzled as the sudden spray of water cut through the curtain of dancing orange hues. The giant air bag ruffled with each landing, and similar sounds could be heard from the other side of the building, where the other fire crew had set up. The second engine, the one she'd followed, had extinguished the burning patches on the building ahead of Danni, and were now working on the blaze at hand. Inside the glimmering sphere, Afterburner screamed and roared at the young woman holding him at bay. Rocket-boosted punches struck the field over and over. Thankfully the shape made it hard to land a square hit, but as the little brunette watched, cracks of light began to appear in the surface of the field. At the same time a light throbbing began to pinch in the back of her skull, not like a headache, but like the input from an extra sense, one that seemed to throb with each hit.

Danni could feel her heart racing in her chest. She could feel her pulse in her palm as she pressed it harder against the field, feel the sweat dripping down her skin inside of her suit. She began to wince with each hit. Afterburner paused. Looming in close, leaning right down, he peered at her through the field, squinted at her through that horrible mask. She could feel the smile on his face as he saw the pain and exertion in hers. Hits came faster now. She had to think of something, had to do something, but she couldn't think with this pain burning in her mind with every strike.

Danni's fingers left the smooth, tingly surface of the force field as she turned to run. The colourful, glimmering energy dissipated immediately, leaving Afterburner free, and only momentarily stunned. The pain in her head was gone, but she still felt physically sickened by the ordeal. Heat washed across her back as fire sizzled in the air between them. Hugging her arms against her body, she shut her eyes tight and held her breath. She could almost feel the heat of the flames through the field, but it was probably just the terror seeping into her imagination.

The flames died down as Afterburner moved in close again, moved in to knock her glimmering cocoon down. Little did he know, she would pass out from lack of oxygen long before that. The field dropped again. This time he was ready, his hand a blur as it shot out, clenching tight around a fistful of brown hair. In one sharp motion he yanked her off-balance, and then hauled her down to her knees. Her hands gripped tightly at his fist, trying to pry it open, but it was no use. His other fist, wreathed once again in flames, hovered just inches from her face. A menacing chuckle began to rumble in his throat.

 
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Aster Adalia (Badger)

Gang Battle in Franklin

I was jumping over the buildings, happy to be back in familiar territory. It was just like the mission I'd just finished in Dungeon's Ruth, except I didn't exactly have a couple of extra lives or any med packs lying around. I did have the necessary equipment with me, but people weren't going to stop firing mid-battle to let me use it. Plus, there were civilians. They just always seemed to complicate things.

I landed on all fours atop one of the many apartment complexes, out of breath. That was another big difference between videogames and Real life, you get really tired. I was actually in great shape, but I dare anyone else to jump across thirteen blocks worth of city skyline. Thankfully I was exactly where I needed to be. I saw a bunch of people nestled anywhere they could to keep out of the line of fire. There was also several large men on two sides of the street, all wearing masks, all wielding firearms. I knew that jumping out would only set them off, thus ending my reign in this existence, but some kid stemmed to think I was taking too much time on the decision, and jumped out INTO THE LINE OF FIRE! I mean honestly, how stupid can these people be.

With no other choice, I jumped down and ran at the kid, ducking and rolling and hearing the chaotic sounds of people screaming and gunshots being fired. I felt a sharp sting like a needle pierce my leg. I sent the kid running, and turned to where the shots were slowing down. The side on the right had a plump dark skinned woman in their grasps, and were pointing a gun into her neck. He started yelling unintelligible things in my direction, but it was clear enough what would happier if I didn't comply with whatever he demanded.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you're saying. I can't give you want if I don't understand what you're saying." I put my hands in front of me to show that I was unarmed. Little do they know. The the man with the hostage gestured to another big man behind him, who then translated his request.

"Three million dollars."

"Dude, look. If I had that much money, do you think I'd be living here?"

"Okay then," a gun was fired, and one of the few decent people in this city dropped to the ground, swimming in a puddle of her own blood. My nails grew out, and I looked at the man for only a moment, before running forward and giving him my trademark brand, large across his chest, then plunging my nails deep into his chest, effectively ending his life. He thought he could get away with murder, ohh how wrong he was.

"They call me Badger. It's a name I suggest you don't forget."
 
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Samuel Kannosini
Condition: Nominal
Location: Melrose- Bank Robbery
Players: N/A



Calmly stepping from the bank's main entrance, Samuel Kannosini slid a black, two hole balaclava over his head. He adjusted it to be comfortable and then promptly procured a set of cheap goggles, ensured the strap was tight to his head, and then donned said goggles over his eyes. He then removed his right hand glove, and began to meticulously touch every visible article of clothing on him. His shoes, shoe laces, pants, jacket, gloves, balaclava, and, finally, goggles. He took great care in ensuring that his hand remained on each piece for several seconds, and paid attention to the almost electric energy coursing through his fingertips. His right hand remained bare, while his left was still gloved.

Once he felt comfortable, he marched down the steps. Just as the first police cruiser appeared. Samuel wasted no time, before the officer could even release his seat belt, he stood outside his window. Pressing his right index finger to the window, he poured his will into it and was rewarded with the glass shattering before his very eyes. The officer yelled out, scrambling to draw his firearm.

Samuel struck him once and the man's head snapped back at a sickening angle.

Shit, didn't mean to break him that hard. The officer's head rolled back, hanging limply over his chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck, and more fuck. The last thing he needed to be known as was a cop killer. He'd only meant the knock the man out. What a great start, Sam.

He spun around as two more sirens closed in behind him, but before he could so much as step forward the new officers had already exited their vehicles, which were parked parallel to each other in order to block the street. The cop on the left carried a sidearm, which was already held in Samuel's direction, while the one on the right sported a pump-action shotgun.

Samuel half expected them to bark demands, but one look at the 12-gauge wielding law enforcer told Samuel that they had no intentions of talk. The shotgun's barreled exploded and he was immediately shoved back as the buckshot pelted his chest. Looking down, he saw that his jacket was completely unscathed. A hidden smile spread across Samuel's face, indicating an elated mood that the assaulting officer didn't seem to share.

He walked forward, making a beeline for the shotgun, which began to go off again and again in a desperate attempt to put Samuel down. The pistol also began its report, drilling rounds into his upper chest. Samuel only felt mild annoyance at this.

As he rounded the car, the officer attempted to fire his weapon once more, only to find that he'd already emptied its ammunition storage. The man panicked as Samuel drew closer, his hands shaking white it searched his plate carrier for more shells. Finally it found one and moved to load into the side of the firearm. It never got the chance.

Samuel's right hand shot out and in one swift motion the formidable killing tool was severed in half, its loading port simply crumpling between his finger tips. Catching the newly made front half, he swung at his opponent's face. With surprising reflexes, the man managed to duck while simultaneously dropping the other half of the shotgun and throwing in a right handed jab.

His efforts were rewarded with shattered knuckles as his closed fist contacted Samuel's stomach. He screamed, dropping to his knees as he clutched his right hand. Samuel used this moment to form his counterattack, slamming the shotgun's barrel into the left side of the man's face. He was out cold before he hit the ground. Looking up, he saw the other officer slamming the door of his cruiser shut.

I guess they don't get paid enough for this kind of shit, Samuel thought. The sight was somewhat entertaining, in its own way. He decided to let the man escape, thinking it would benefit him more. The less cops he broke, the better. For now.
 
"Resonate"
Aden leaned his back into the wall, the wind whistling in through the window just next to him. He could hear the consistent thudding of the idle engine just across the street, and the occasional comments of the man in the back seat. One had the tough voice of a leader, and one sounded no older that 18. Nevertheless, he knew it was a harsh world, and why the van was parked where it was. Snow had begun to layer onto the ground nearly an hour ago, and showed no signs of slowing. The windowsill was covered, and there was a thing patch of snow just beneath the window by which he stood.

The roaring sound of an engine caused him to lean closer to the window, catching the light of headlights on the building parallel to his. He could hear the cocking of guns and the final discussion of orders, before the latching of multiple doors. He couldn't help but smile to himself, knowing the amount of distrust between the two parties. He caught word of a second language, by one of the voices from the second car. Sounding very guttural and fluid, he was unable to guess the dialect.

He listened to the footsteps as they made their way in between the two vehicles, the headlights partially illuminating the deal. He heard the thud of a heavy object, a package, onto the asphalt beneath the snow. His ears beginning to feel cold, he listened carefully to what they spoke, just incise they weren't who he was after.

"Do you have them, Iesta?'
"As always"
"And the ammo too?"
"Of course, sir."
"Good"


Aden had heard enough, although he found the conversation odd. He soon realized that it was the young boy speaking, the one authorizing the deal. He was the one who led them, not the other way around as he had thought. He nodded as he came to a conclusion, leaning off of the wall and drawing his handgun silently. The long suppressor came off his hip smoothly, and he brought his stance to be adjacent to the window. Bringing the optic mounted onto the handgun up, he had his first target in mind as soon as the dot came to his chest.

The slide moved back quickly and smoothly as the man fell, the target being one of the grunts from the black car, dressed in an elegant suit. Still stepping past the window he let a second round off, landing in the snow just past the leader from the black car. He let a third fly into the same place before passing back into the darkness, His hands immediately reaching for the headphones upon his head. The first muff was just coming over his ear as the first shot rang out, the cartel men having drawn their firearms. The second muff came over his head as his left ear began to ring, the quick thudding of a firefight coming from below.

Just as it began, the shootout ended suddenly and abruptly. Passing back into view of the deal, he could see four now lay dead in the snow, and one was wounded. The members of the black car, all lay in growing puddles of red beneath their bodies, and the leftover two were quickly making haste for their own van. He saw no sight of the package, and cursed himself for his ignorance. Bringing the gun up again, he let his bullets tear into the back of the van as the wheels began to spin in the snow. The slide racked back as he aimed for the tire, hearing a distinct pop as the van tried to speed off.

Shaking his head, He tossed the spent magazine to the side and loaded a fresh one, the magazine hitting the wall with a soft 'Thump'. Pushing his pistol back onto his hip, he barged into the hallway of the apartment building and broke into a sprint, pushing back a headphone as he did. Hearing the truck, he took a left turn and spotted the route in which he had came. Gathering courage, he built speed as his long coat blew around his sides. His soft boot gripping the edge of the windowsill, he launched himself from the complex.
 
Aster Adalia (Badger) directly after Velkyn Velkyn fell

I was walking through the 117TH, mask on and claws drawn, limping a bit from the situation the night before. I was following the trail of an arms deal that was supposedly going down tonight. Though by the sounds of shooting, the deal had gone south, and seemingly ended in blood. I'd decided to stick around in case some of them got away. I found out really quickly that it got much colder in the north corner than it did in the southwest part of Franklin where I lived. I really should have considered that before coming and brought a warmer jacket. Oh well. Nothing to be done now.

I heard the sound of approaching tires, and quickly ducked behind a shipping container before whoever was in the vehicle could see me. Luckily it was dark out, and they didn't have their headlights on. They probably thought whatever movemwnt they saw was a... racoon. No, not a racoon, that doesn't make any sense. Why would they think it was a racoon? Maybe a large rabbit... no that makes even less sense than the racoon. I broke from my trance and looked around, and saw a dude jumping out of a third story window, then running off in the direction of the vehicle, slowing just a little bit when he passed me. I sat down next to the huge metal crate because it seemed like the job was taken, but I wasn't quite ready to go home yet. I mean, my apartment is awesome, but it's cold and dark and lonely. I usually like it that way, but it's sometimes just... too much. I pulled my knees up under my chin, and decided to just stay there for the night. I had my appointment in midtown the next morning anyway, and 117TH was a lot closer than my apartment. And if I woke up dead.. well.. noones gonna care anyway. With that thought, I drifted off to my prison that I call sleep.
 

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