Glory of a New World (IC)

He lost himself in thought, remembering everything that has brought him to this. It had been 6 months since he was abandoned in this city. Chrono was a part of a squad under the U.S. military who were sent to keep order along with hundreds of other soldiers. He still wondered why they withdrew all the troops but he did know one thing, he was left behind. With no where else to call home, he settled down where he was and got to work, cleaning the streets.


He set the drink down on the bar. The place reeked of mold and wood rot and had dim red lights, barely bright enough to make out the face of the man ten feet from you. He listened in carefully, trying to find someone worth his time. It wasn't long before he heard what he was looking for.


"So, Rhino, have you figured out who that rat is yet. They picked off another one of our guys yesterday, found him stuffed inside an old fridge." said one man in a hushed tone


"I have my ideas, but this isn't the place, I'll fill you in later at our spot" said Rhino in his uncomfortably scratchy voice


So, this is the infamous Rhino, I figured he'd hide somewhere better than this. I know just what to do with you. Rhino turned out to be a massive man, standing at nearly 7 foot and wore a dark trench coat, this was all he could see. Chrono worked to hide a smile from the view of the others, the fun was about to begin. He waited a while longer until he saw Rhino stand and rush for the exit, at this cue, Chrono began his hunt. Following at a safe distance he tracked every motion made and worked to get inside Rhino's head. I know he'll be looking for someone to be following him, so I have to keep more distance. I wonder if he... Oh there it is, he peeks over his shoulder every time he rounds a corner, I just have to avoid that and he'll never know I was here.


After a quiet and uneventful stalking, Rhino had finally met with the mystery man. Before any words were exchanged, the two men moved to make sure the area was clear with an expedited patrol of the area. Chrono ducked and mounted up against the back of a crate, just out of sight but still within earshot.


"Okay, we're clear." said Rhino "To follow up, yes, I do know that there is someone killing our men but he isn't a rat, he is some sort of a ghost, I think he's just killing everyone, like some sort of homicidal maniac"


"Oh man! we're so screwed" said the other "He's going to ki..."


"It's one man!" Rhino interrupted "He's still flesh and blood, and if you haven't heard, there's a man named Sinclair in the far south making an army out of people like us, this ghost-man won't live another week".


"That's all I needed to hear!" said Chrono, stepping from the shadows. "Thank you for your cooperation, gentlemen."


Before either could draw a gun four rounds were fired, disabling each of Rhino's limbs. The other man dropped his gun and scrambled clumsily away. Rhino fell to the ground, immobilized.


"So..." said Chrono, crouching near the fallen man "Why do they call you Rhino, anyway?"


"It's because you don't mess with a Rhino! I've killed men with a headbutt and I sure as hell am going to kill you!" Rhino yelled


"Okay" said Chrono chuckling, loosing a single round into the man's head.


Checking the mans pockets he picked out 5, 9mm, rounds to replace the ones he used. There were plenty of weapons on this corpse, ,but none of them interested him. So, there's going to be an army made out of these rag-tag slums. Though these men Sinclair is working with are painfully ignorant I know what that general is capable of and if I want to stop this, I'm going to need some help. With this, it was his time to head northward, towards the good half of the fallen city
 
-San Francisco,Church at the South End of the North Side-

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Loki looked at the people in the room,and nodded. Three people. None of them Scarlett. He leaned down to set down the bottles of Coke,and pulled the box of Butterfingers from his mouth,and replied, "Sorry! I'm looking for someone in specific. Bow,quiver,short and straight Japanese sword? We were in the gas station before it went nuclear. Sent her here for cover while I scrounged some energy to recharge." He held the box out to the group. "Butterfinger?" Loki placed the box back in his mouth,and picked up his Coka-Cola,and walked to the back of the room. "'Ight a' 'ell 'oin 'ush. 'Enth 'n 'um'ers,'ight?"

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Loki reached the back of the room,and pushed his way through the doors to the back yard of the church,and saw Scarlett,standing over the open hatch to the cellar. "'Ar'ett! Ah 'oght 'rien's!" He walked up beside her,and waggled his jaw,causing the box of Butterfingers to jiggle,to get her attention. "'Ant 'un?"

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-San Francisco,Hell's Handbasket,South End of the South Side-

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Sinclair entered the watering hole,and every eye tracked his movement. No one looked friendly,and some were glaring at his M60 sourly. It was obvious that it was the sole deterrent against attacks on his person. For the moment. He approached the bar,and said, "Who here's feeling like a soldier?" The room erupted into laughter. Dozens of men and women,drinking themselves senseless on watered down piss water,while sizing eachother up. One particularly brash man stood up,almost falling all over himself,and said, "And o'ore you? General Patton? Eh? Heh!" The drunk gestured around the room,getting gales of guffaws.

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Sinclair gestured at the man's sweat-flecked head,and it frozen solid. The guffaws gave way to surprised gasps and murmurs. He's a Meta! Holy shit! What if he could blow us all up with his mind! F***! Sinclair smiled,and approached the drunk. The drunk flailed wildly. Sinclair intentionally made the ice cocoon opaque. He threw a savage right hook,strong enough to send spiderweb cracks scurrying across the ice. Some red blossomed under the frozen mask.

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Sinclair followed up with a brutal slam with the bottom of his right fist,reversing his momentum. No cracks this time,but it caused the drunk to stumble backwards. By now,the crowd was cheering. This was a helluva show. Sinclair thrust his left leg forward,kicking the drunk bastard over. Sinclair followed him down,landing on his knee heavily,square on the uppity drunk's sternum. What followed were two quick straights with his right arm,both making small craters in the ice.

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And his final demonstration is what sealed it. Sinclair grabbed the front of the drunk's frozen face with his right hand,and repeatedly slammed the back of his frozen head into the uncarpeted concrete floor,with everything he had. He struggled for his life. SLAM! His flailing weakened. SLAM! His flailing stopped. SLAM! The ice on the back of his head exploded outward,along with some bone fragments. Something gray and red trickled to the floor.

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Sinclair stood up from the dying man,and let the bouncers drag the corpse out of the bar. The one with the bat looked at the small puddle of gore,and said, "Cleaner than everyone else,at least." Sinclair shrugged,and said, "Recruitment. Sometimes draft dodgers get messy." The bouncer nodded,and began to follow his co-worker out the door. "So! Who's feeling like a soldier?" The crowd unanimously raised their fists,and began chanting "General Winters!" Sinclair nodded in appreciation. That works marvelously. Even the bouncer with the baseball bat was chanting. He'll make a good officer. He's intelligent. He's worth more than a simple bouncer. "WE MARCH! To rally our forces! By the end of the year,San Francisco will be our haven!" The cry galvanized the crowd,and they fell into step behind the newly minted General Winters as he marched out of the bar.

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(Translations for Loki's boxspeak are available upon request.)

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xxxxxScarlett debated on jumping in and attacking any person who was hiding underneath, but she chose against it. The weeds that had grown over the door before were well grown, and she doubted anyone would stay in the cellar that long. Slowly, she used her foot to lift the other door that luckily, hadn't broken off. "'Ar'ett! Ah 'oght 'rien's!"Scarlett glanced up, there was Loki, with arms full of sodas and energy drinks, along with a box of butterfingers between his teeth, explaining his odd language. She peered over at the people behind him, without much emotion on her face. Friends? Since when had she became allies with them? Or even Loki?


xxxxxIt wasn't like she had exactly offered to be allies with him. It just kind of happened. The thought gave her a reason to not trust him, or any of the people behind him for that matter. Loki shook his head, shaking the box in his mouth. She could hear the Butterfingers that were inside the box, and without a word, she reached in and took one out, doing everything she could to keep from drooling. It had been so long since she had one of them, and it felt like a luxury to even hold the candy bar in her hands. Scarlett, sighed, shoving it into her pocket for later. Her outward appearance seemed calm, and a bit unapproachable, yet on the inside, she was practically a small child, jumping for joy, at the new possession she now held.


xxxxxScarlett recognized the group as the same people she had tried to avoid when arriving at the each. "Well, you trust easily, I see..." She said. Scarlett made a notion towards the entrance to the cellar. "Welcome to my humble abode." she remarked sarcastically before making her way down the stairs of the cellar. She pulled her sword out and kept it at the ready for any incoming dangers that might appear. It was rather dark, so she used her free hand to cast a small fire over her finger, lighting the torch beside her and doing so with the rest of the torches that she came by.


xxxxxThe church must have ben old itself for it to have torches in the cellar beneath it. Judging by the looks of it, it was a wine cellar. It was rather empty except for a couple wine barrels and cobwebs with spiders dangling from it.
 
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Hell's Handbasket, South Side


Many people gathered in the watering hole, mostly the unsavory types, and had he not broken several teeth from a glory-seeker's mouth with a stool, the one-armed man likely would've been quite a target. Hell, missing an arm made someone a target anywhere in the city, especially a middle-aged man. The newest bigshot strolled in, MG in hand, and immediately tried to recruit the entire bar at once for his cause.


"In another lifetime maybe," Garth muttered over the edge of his drink at the man's question, feeling as though the war had been a lifetime ago.


This bigshot seemed a little different from the norm, freezing a man's head solid with only a hand gesture.


"Well that's certainly interesting," he went on, not budging from his seat as the drunkard was clobbered, and ultimately ended. As a matter of fact, Garth swiveled on his stool to watch, drink in hand.


Immediately the drunks seemed to rally to this sod, though perhaps half stayed behind, nursing their beverages. Perhaps a little headstrong to do much on his own, but with the proper guidance, advice even, a charismatic meta such as this could always prove useful, especially if his damnable comrade decided to stick his nose into things again.


Slipping through the rough crowd following the general, Garth easily sidled up alongside the M60 toting psychopath, walking in silence a brief time as he finished the drink he'd filched from the bar, skipping out on his tab as most of the mob had, disregarding the owner's dismayed cries.


Finishing off the gin, the one-armed man simply tossed the glass over his shoulder, directly into one scumbag's face unintentionally. About to open his mouth to speak with the general, get his attention, he was jumped on from behind, eliciting a grunt of surprise.


"You think you're so great cripple!?" the man shouted.


Driven face-first to the asphalt, one hand on the back of his neck, another grasping his one wrist, Garth rolled forward instinctively, sending the weight of his assailant over him, landing the both of them on their backs. Slamming his head backward, something crunched, gave way, squelched, and a warm fluid sprayed down the back of his neck, a nose shattered with the back of his head. Immediately, the thug released his grip, attempting to scramble away and cover his nose in defense. Rolling himself to one knee, Garth grabbed the poor bastard by the ankle, driving a thumb viciously into the tendon in back of his heel. Shrieking in agony, the numbskull confused himself, trying to protect the opposite ends of his body at the same time. Rising in stride, Garth planted one foot firmly on his attacker's windpipe, the entire exchange lasting only moments.


"That was stupid of you," the former soldier stated calmly, steadily applying more pressure as his eyes began to bulge, froth forming at his lips, and face turning a brilliant shade of purple.


San Fransisco, North Side, Pete's Wienies


"You're sure that you lost track of him?" the young man asked, obviously displeased with the services rendered.


"Hey, it's not easy to track him, if he don't wanna be found he ain't gonna be found." the informant replied, a scraggly man in his early thirties, supposedly an expert at hunting down individuals, a profitable business these days.


"Well, I hired you to find him, no results, no pay," Simon replied, leaning over the decrepit counter to spit the words in his contractor's face.


About to interject, Simon shot a look of threatened violence strong enough to skin a bear at the man. Only a tiny peep escaped the rat's lips, drawing back immediately, frightened at what was supposedly a great hero.


"If you want something done, you do it yourself," he muttered to himself, immediately heading Southward, directly into the shitstorm in search of his old comrade.
 
He went back to the sad excuse of a hole that he calls home. It held everything he owns, including only a junked mattress, a blanket, and a hand radio that he never could get to work. He took one final look around as he walked in to pick up his radio. I'm not really going to miss this place, sure this is the one thing that can bring comfort to me in the south side, but it's nothing I can't move on from.


He picked up his only belonging worth carrying and headed to leave. His home was through a hatch in the ground, next to an old and abandoned street of what once was a suburban community. Lifting the hatch slightly, he checked the surface, no one. Chrono stepped out and headed down the road towards a major highway.


Man, this used to be the glorious city of San Francisco? It's amazing how quickly people turned this place upside down.


Returning from his thoughts he spotted three men ahead. No armor, carrying what appears to be assault rifles, completely oblivious. This will be easy. Ducking out of the road and behind a house Chrono began his approach. Drawing his mk16 as he ran from cover to cover he searched for others nearby. Seeing no one else, he found a good perch atop a porch roof of an old home. Readying the shot Chrono placed his sights on the third mans head. He took the time to contemplate his situation. A suppressed rifle will still make a bang, alerting anyone nearby. Most would hear a gunshot and think nothing of it around here. Deciding against killing them since they could be armed only for self defense he descended from his vantage point and chose to follow them instead. Mounting up against the corner of another home he listened in.


"You should've seen her" one man said "We had her tied to a chair, cut off six fingers and she still wouldn't talk!"


"Dumb b*tch!" yelled one of the others "What does it take to get some drugs around here?"


"I've got the last of my supply in my car up here. What do you say we make the hit tonight? Kill the Baron, take his stash and move on to another city. It'll be quick and easy"


Okay, these guys just made the list. Following them to the vehicle he waited until just before they entered the car. Klak Klak Klak. The three men fell in rapid succession. Chrono dashed from his place of cover and ran up to the vehicle, he found the man that was headed towards the drivers seat and searched his pockets. Grabbing the keys he was looking for he hopped in the car and tested its engine. Starting on the first try he was confident this car would run. Wow, full tank too, I should be able to make it back up north on this, let's just hope no one's interested in borrowing an occupied vehicle. He set the car in drive and took off, pushing it over 70 miles per hour down the broken road. The smell finally got to him, turning his attention from the road, Chrono spotted the piles of drugs the man was talking about. Grabbing hand fulls of bags at a time he forcefully ejected them out the window, free for the taking.
 
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When he finally snapped back into reality, Jay was atop his usual south side residential building. He was day dreaming about the girl in his picture he had with him, he was dreaming of the days were they would be able to walk carelessly together up and down the same road he sits on now to get ice cream at the parlor a block down. Those days are gone though, and now he is a changed man ever since the war. He's much more alert now, everything he does has the best of intent so no one ever has to lose a loved one to war again.


It's late afternoon now as he scans the intersection for his target. After about 20 minutes he finally spots a small group thugs pull up near the intersection at a alleyway. I only wait a few moments before realizing my keen hearing is still to far to clearly make out what is being said and decide to drop from my rooftop perch and cross the street ducking under cover to a new vantage point. "Yo jimmy, you got the money or what, i swear if you make me hunt you down again for my money i'm going to have to kill you" exclaimed the dirty looking guy in the front of the group. "C'mon man i told you i will get you your money, j-just give me time." Right about when this guys background thugs started getting a little antsy, I figure i've seen enough. Drawing back my bow i take a deep breathe and release my first arrow right into the back of the leaders skull dropping him instantly. "This is where it gets fun" i mutter under my breathe as both thugs whip their heads around looking for something to shoot. It only takes me a few moments to back up from my current position and onto the top of the building one roof over where i proceed to loose another arrow into the more intimidating of the two thugs. "Ah sh*t" i hear over the sound of the final thugs M16 sending out a array of bullets that had less accuracy than my grandmother. After regaining my balance I jump down the back of the building still unnoticed and take refuge behind a dumpster. "Where are you!.... I know your out there!" He ragingly yells to the streets before stupidly firing of the last of his ammo. Just then as he begins fumbling for more ammo do I show my hiding place and within seconds have my arrow stuck in his throat, leaving him gargling blood with the other two on the cement.


Casually I brush myself off and go to reclaim my arrows from the bodies and release "Jimmy" from his bindings. The man thanks me by completely not caring that i was even standing there and running out of the alley. Never the less i continue on my work by moving the bodies away from the road and returning to the roof tops where I spend most of my time.
 
Vern sat in the makeshift bar sipping a tot of whiskey, the liquid burned its way down his throat and into his stomach. He sat on a salvaged barstool with his back leaning against the bar, he sighed and surveyed the room critically. The working day had ended and men and women were filing in to wash down their fatigue with alcohol and forget their losses in the bottom of a shot glass or empty beer bottle. The smell of moonshine was thick in the air and the patrons had only just begun so there wouldn't be any trouble for another hour or so.


Taking another sip, he emptied the tumbler and slammed the vessel lip side down on the bar. The Burton Settlement hadn't been there for long but it was there long enough for him to make a name for himself within the third largest fenced off community on the northern side of San Francisco.


"Sheriff!!!! Sheriff!!! There's some Southerners at the gate, they've got guns sir!!!"


Vern sighed as a boy ran into the room shouting at the top of his lungs, gradually the crowd quietened down as one by one the crowd realised the boy was serious. The former military officer watched as the boy drew closer and stopped in front him. The boy turned away to face the sheriff who had been playing a game of poker turned around to leer at the boy for a moment, his moustache twitched and the made donned his hat which was perched on the table next to his drink.


"C'mon then boy we'd better go see to those troublemakers then eh? Sorry boys looks like I'll have to leave the game and take my winnings."


The sheriff laughed a little and took a his small of pile money, he stashed the cash in his pocket and walked through the door with the boy in tow, several other men and women followed after him. Vern Sighed and rocked himself from his seat to follow the sheriff, no doubt his house would be overrun with nosy people trying to get a good look at the action from his roof since his house was the closest to the main gates.


At his house Vern had finished shooing off the kids and teenagers off his roof, they all squealed or laughed while they jumped spryly from his aluminium roof. He heard gun shots in the distance and decided to climb to the top of his house himself, what he saw was shocking, their were deputies lying dead on the ground, the gate was bent open like it was melted and the sheriff was ducking behind the remains of an old house shooting off pop shots. Further in the background he could see men wielding guns shouting in victory.


Inside his house Vern took the sword that sat in a chest in his room, he strapped to his back and rolled his shoulder muscles. He didn't want to get involved but he could let the criminals through the gate either.


It turned out the one standing in the gate was actually woman, Vern had told the sheriff to stop shooting while he handled the criminals. Vern Trudged his way towards the woman, he hadn't yet drawn his sword but that didn't mean he wasn't going to. Without warning the woman shot out blazing orange glob like projectiles at him. Vern dodged the projectiles and suddenly began charging her with his sword firmly held in his left hand.


She threw several more of the fiery globs at him, this time he struck each one as they drew closer; splitting them apart in mid air and rendering them useless as the flopped against the ground. The woman then began to glow, her arms began leaking the lava like substance which hissed as it touched the ground. She cackled madly as the liquid began to pool about her feet. With a sweep of her arm the Meta woman whipped up the liquid at her feet launching it at Vern with reckless abandon.


Vern had no choice but to stop and dodge to the left, he realised he wouldn't be able to get close to the woman and grimaced. He took up an offensive pose and held his blade vertically, Vern closed his eyes and began to focus his mind on the sword blade. In a single movement he took one step forward and made an arcing cut that sent a wave of compressed air whistling towards the woman who was split in half. The men behind gawked in surprise before turning tail. Vern slumped to his knees exhausted, his sword; Cutter clattered to the ground.
 
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-North Side,near the Burton Settlement-

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Kylar trudged through the streets at the North side of San Fran. His shield was strapped to his left arm,and his helmet was tucked under his right arm,and he was still sweating. He was wearing his EOD suit since he got up in his little hidey hole a few kilometers South of where he was now. He was making his way to a community he heard was around here. Settlements like that were targets for unsavoury elements,ones that generally resided in the South side,but often made raids to the North.


The sound of gunfire reached Kylar's ears,prompting him to stop for a moment,to get a bearing on it's source. Burton. He donned his helmet,and began to run to the source of the commotion. However,a few minutes later,before he got within sight of the walls of Burton,Kylar encountered a crowd of armed men and women,seemingly in full retreat. Kylar put his left arm up,and lowered the shoulder,hunkering down behind the huge slab of metal,labeled with "SFPD RIOT RESPONSE",and bearing the logo of the SFPD.


Most of the crowd saw the shield,and,having their own experience with the shield from before the end of the world,peeled off to either side,wanting to avoid the police officer behind it. A small handful of others,however,stood their ground,hoping to kill a cop and take his gear. "Attention raiders!" Kylar was calling out, "I am Corporal Gould of the San Francisco Police Department! Stand down or I will subdue you!" The raiders looked at eachother,then at Kylar. There were three of them,and one of him. Easy pickin's.


The lead raider dropped to one knee and aimed down sights,while his allies kept their feet and aimed as well. Kylar peeked around his shield,and nearly got a third nostril for his trouble. "Have it your way! Don't say I didn't give you a chance!" Kylar took hold of the Mk II Riot Action Gear's secondary grip,and began a bull rush at the three men. They opened fire in force now,hoping to get through the shield. They obviously didn't know how thick the damn thing was.


The raiders waited until Kylar was feet away before they moved. The lead raider dashed forward,hoping to get around the shield,while one tried to flank. The third took several steps backward,hoping for a good shot.


Kylar slammed the Riot Action Gear into the charging man,and heaved upward,hurling the man over his head. The raider slammed to the pavement,hard and groaning. As Kylar hurled the man over his head,he shifted his right hand to grip the shotgun's grip. "SIT DOWN!" The shield's bottom was pointed at the third raider,and he pulled the trigger. The raider got a load of buckshot mouthwash,reducing everything above his collar to chunky salsa.


Using the recoil of the weapon,Kylar spun on his right foot,bringing the top edge of the shield straight into the second raider's temple,after he made his full revolution. There was a loud,wet cracking sound. The raider fell to the ground without a peep.


Kylar straightened up,and looked at the groaning man on the ground. "You're alone. You and your accomplices are guilty of terrorism,assault with illegal firearms,and trespassing." Kylar drew his pistol from his chest. "In the absence of the normal judicial system,and proper facilities to hold you,I am now invoking the Emergency Martial Justice Act. For your crimes against San Francisco and her people,I sentence you to death by summary execution." Kylar aimed briefly,then fired two rounds;one in the forehead,and one in the right temple.


Kylar flicked the safety back on,holstered his pistol,and continued his journey to Burton at a brisk jog. He arrived at the battered gates,panting under his helmet,but didn't encounter any more raiders. Seeing the dead and injured,Kylar called out, "Corporal Gould of the San Francisco Police Department! How can I be of assistance?"

-South Side,Streets near Hell's Handbasket-

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Sinclair turned around,and continued his march backwards when he heard a scuffle immediately behind him,and was pleasantly surprised to see a middle aged man with one arm trounce a much younger and able-bodied man with little effort. A potential officer. It takes a smart man to come out on top in that situation. Sinclair called to the man, "Sir--" Then he remembered something. The face...The arm...He was all over the news! "Sargent Albrecht! A pleasure!" Sinclair saluted the old soldier,and continued.

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"I'm Warrant Officer Sinclair,Two Service Battalion. It's a pleasure to finally meet you,Sargent. As you can probably see,San Francisco is in dire need of leadership." He gestured to the now dead man under the Sargent's boot. "As you can quite clearly see. I could use an intelligent and experienced man such as yourself to make it happen."

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Rayna walked towards the strangely dressed man and a redheaded woman, a woman she recognized as the chick fighting the axe babe. Furrowing her eyebrows she hesitated for a brief second, the woman shot out flames didn't she? Should she even trust these people? After the events of today rewound in her head she realized she didn't have much chance at survival any other way. It was either trust these people or go outside and suck on the concrete while waiting to be shot,raped, and pillaged. She strode right up next to the man a tingle of nervousness in her chest assuring that she keep a hand on the handgun holstered to her thigh. She took the young boy's hand in her own before realizing that she did not need to protect him or baby him, he could make his own decisions.


"Here you go... I'm sorry I don't have anymore food to offer you," Rayna said softly, removing her bulletproof vest from the boy and slipping it under her sweater. She quickly walked back over to the weirdly dressed man and red-haired woman.


"So, I presume you have a plan to survive? Mr... Umpire?" Rayna asked quietly.
 
Christian was afraid. One second the woman was with him and now she was leaving? He felt his heart clench. He was being abandoned, again. He quietly let her slip the vest off and took the food in his hand. He watched her walk over to the strange man who had offered them Butterfingers (which is an offer he took up on).


He didn't know what to do now. He didn't have a safe place to stay or anywhere safe to get food. He felt panic and fear electrify his nerves. He sat down shakily in a pew. He was 13. He wanted to play Super Mario Smash Brawl on his Wii not be living in a cracked out call of duty world. He looked at the girl one last time, hoping maybe she'd tell him to tag along. Yes he had survived this long while he was hiding but now that he was out in the open, he was vunerable.
 
Vern sheathed his sword with nary a glance back at the woman he had severed from almost eight feet away, he had seen more than enough dead bodies during his employment with the army and he didn't have the curiosity to look at more of them. He turned around to check that the sheriff was alright, the man was a bit shook up but he held his own and with a smile he reached his hand toward Vern. The ex-army officer took a few quick steps over to the Peacekeeper and hefted him to his feet with little effort.


"I think you and I need to have a little talk over a glass o' whiskey later Vern, that sword o' yers is summin' else now that's fer serr."


"Yeah, I figured as much"


The faint sound of a scuffle made its way over the wall and just as Vern was about to check what the cause of the noise was, a man gussied up in a riot suit with a riot shield in tow. Vern quirked an eyebrow at the newcomer, a wry smile snuck its way across his face, he would have laughed had the limp and bloody body of the woman not sobered his thoughts before he blew them into the wind.


"You're an odd sight in these parts feller', you a friend or someone else I have to cut up?"


Vern's deep husky voice traveled through the air, a note of laughter just hanging on the edge, the sheriff walked up beside him and holstered his pistol.


"We don't need more trouble round here fella, now I suggest you state your intentions or giiieet!!"


The pair of them looked like they had walked right out of some old black and white western-fantasy mashup that never existed. their shadows stretched out before them and the only thing missing from the scene was ball of tumbleweed bouncing its way between them. Vern couldn't help but hum the age old tune in his head accompanied by the extreme eye close-ups. Vern surmised that the current state of things did warrant a return to the law of the old frontier. The heavily armoured 'ex-policeman' stated his name and Vern thought it would be polite for them to introduce themselves


"I am Vern Birgoss; dirt plower, whiskey drinker and one hell of a line dancer and this here's the Sheriff, most people call him Star on account of his badge. Perhaps we could discuss our current situation over a tot or two of whiskey eh boys?"
 
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There was the sound of a gunshot, and Nico fell to the floor, and then another, and Chris fell as well.


At the doors of the church, stood a man. Fog, and he spoke, as the smoke went out of his gun. "Well, well, you all think a church can save you in this time? Nope. God is dead, friends. hah, friends. No. it seems we are now enemies, or, at least, I hope we are, because if we aren't something is majorly wrong."


The man strode forward, and something seemed off about him now, he looked a tad see through. He just stood there now, awaiting a response.


~~


The woman sat by the bridge, skipping stones into the river with a smile on her face. She seemed careless, oblivious to the mess and mayhem going on around her. And angel amongst the living, this girl was. Kyra Fate. Her innocence something an oddity to this land, though, sadly, all too soon it may go away.


~~


Johnny Blue, a man with shades and good looks, confidently strode down a San Fran road, did he care for dangers? Hell no. His big sniper basically told anyone to back away. His smile unique, as it was confident, not glad or happy. Johnny was just a man who thought he could take on the world, he likely could, though, he wasn't on the side to take on the world, he was on the side to save it. He heard two gunshots from inside a church, and started his way over.
 
-Church at the North Side Border-

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Loki strode into the cellar,and placed his bottles of Coke on a table,followed quickly by the box of Butterfingers and five of his six cans of Monster. Cracking open a can,Loki taken a swig,and fetched a chocolate bar from the box. Opening it,he taken a bite. As he chewed,he sighed,and said, "Solid energy." He looked at one of the women,and said, "Bunker down,work together,get food and drink,have fun. Planning out every step is boring." Loki taken another bite out of his Butterfinger,and washed it down with a mouthful of Monster. "And you can call me Loki!" That's when he heard a pair of gunshots. Loki looked at Scarlett,and said, "I think we have a buzzkill upstairs."


Loki strolled upstairs with his chocolate bar and energy drink,and walked into the church,just in time to see a man in a dashing white suit give a rather odd speech. "You know,it's a bad prank when the prankee can't appreciate the prankster's work..." Taking another bite from his Butterfinger,Loki gestured to the corpses. "Kids tend to have the best senses of humor,too." If I delay him,I'll be able to grab the gun...I hope...

-North Side,Burton Settlement's Gates-

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Kylar removed his shield,and planted it on the ground in front of him,the markings on the front of the shield clearly visible. SFPD RIOT RESPONSE. After that,he removed his helmet,and tucked it under his arm. "I am Corporal Kylar Gould of the San Francisco Police Department. I heard gunfire,and I encountered retreating raiders. I'm here to assist however I can." He gestured to the corpses,and said, "They deserve a proper burial. Let me help. It's the least I could do."

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The back of Rayna's neck bristled as the two men dropped to the ground like rocks, she stifled the urge to shriek and instincts kicked in. Within a few seconds she had whipped her hand gun out and used her hip to bump the boy in the direction of the pews. Hopefully the pews would provide the boy with cover and the killer would focus on her instead of him. Just as she opened her mouth to interrogate the man the gentleman dressed in the fancy referee uniform exited the cellar, speaking about pranks and humor.


He seemed to calm to be coming to help her, maybe he was the one that brought him here.... The steady thump of terror began in Rayna's chest as she aimed her gun at the man in the white suit, pleading that the other man wasn't going to stab her in the back as she faced away from him.


Maybe it would be better to let them duke it out? Stay back and watch? That man was obviously not human, she could see through his body. How was she going to take him on?


She risked a glance at Nico and almost threw up on the spot, there was no way he was alive... he had offered to help them and was dead no more than fifteen minutes later. All nausea and fear were completely swallowed and she brought the gun up firmly, aiming for his temple. He resembled a sort of mist now, maybe if they found a fan they could force him into his solid state, making him vulnerable to a kill... she thought sliding into a defensive stance, gun raised accordingly.


"Now who the h*ll are you and what the h*ll are you going off about?" she spat.
 
Christian heard the gunshots and then felt his body hit the ground. The man from earlier was speaking to the guy who had shot Nico and the other man. He felt fear grip his heart. 'Oh sh*t. Oh sh*t. Oh sh*t. Oh sh*t. Oh sh*t.' he thought quickly. He gripped the gun in his hand tightly and ducked under the pew. He was worried, were they gonna hurt Rayna? Oh god this couldn't be real.


He shuffled out of the pew slightly to get a glimpse of the guy. He was creepy looking, not natural, not cool at all. Not like....Nico. He let his eyes wander, regretting it immediately. He let out a shriek and covered his eyes. The guy who had been offering them food and place to stay not even 10 minutes ago was now bleeding out everywhere. His eyes were empty and it freaked Christian out.
 
xxxxxScarlett was lighting up another torch nearby when Loki came and set the food he had collected on a table. She debated on setting the food she had herself on the table, but chose otherwise. They were dried, so they could last a while. If they didn't have resources, she could pull them out when needed. "Sounds reasonable to me." She said, after he gave the woman his, "plan." It wasn't well thought out, but it was better than starving on the side of the road, or getting killed by a shotgun.


xxxxxIronically enough, two gunshots were heard from above them, somewhere inside the church. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me..." she muttered. Scarlett had just rid of a fight with an evil girl wielding battle axes, survived a huge explosion that left her nearly deaf, and finally this. "I think we have a buzzkill upstairs."Loki informed her. "Seems like it." Scarlett followed Loki up, her hand on the hilt of her sword. This guy had a gun, and a bullet wasn't necessarily something you could easily dodge.


xxxxxAs Scarlett entered a church, she saw man wearing some kind of white suit. Definitely not fit for traveling. "I don't think talking to the dead will do you any good." She told him, pulling out her sword. Scarlett glanced over at Loki, and in a spoke voice only loud enough for him to hear, "I'll distract him. Try to get his gun, don't want any more people to... die." She glanced over at the two fallen bodies, blood puddles surrounding them. The sight made her grimace. This man had killed the two of them without a second thought, and the fact that he did so only made her angry.


xxxxx"Now who the h*ll are you and what the h*ll are you going off about?" Scarlett glanced over at the woman, her gun in hand, aimed straight for the man's head. More guns... great. She willed for the girl to be live by the end of this. Another death, and Scarlett might bring down a building in anger. She took note of the boy, hiding within the pews. It was the same kid who was watching Scarlett fight with the other woman a little while ago. He was frightened, and looked way to innocent to hurt even a fly unless it was by accident, but that was just by appearance, who knew what this boy was capable of.


xxxxxWith that, Scarlet shook her hand, a flame bursting around it. She swung her arm in the man's direction and the fire flew off of her hand and straight past his head, sticking to the entrance of the church. It began spread rapidly, but with a wave of her hand, it disappeared. "Must be a pain to work with that costume you have on, hm?" She mocked, in an effort to take his attention away from Loki.


(( Sorry, I kind of rushed this, I have somewhere to be. ><;; ))
 
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San Fransisco, South Side, Streets near Hell's Handbasket


"Warrant Officer Sinclair," Garth replied, straightening up as though to salute, but without a right arm it had an odd, sombre sense to it, just as the non-commissioned officer began to introduce himself.


"Yes, it certainly seems to be in need of some assistance," the sergeant agreed.


As Sinclair motioned to the man beneath his boot, Garth seemed to remember that he was there, though now dead, he swiftly removed the foot from his throat.


"If this is the best that you can draw to your cause, then I'm afraid you'll be in a lot of trouble," Garth answered, swiping the blood at the back of his neck with the one hand he still possessed.


Onlookers seemed surprised, apparently this numbskull must have meant something to someone.


"Do we have a problem?" the cripple asked, tilting his head far enough to the side that a resounding crack emanated from it, practically echoing across the stunned silence of General Winters' new mob.
 
-Church at North Side Border-

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Loki finished off his Butterfinger,and slid the wraper into his pocket,and finished off his can of Monster,setting the empty can down on the pulpit. Is he a meta? There's mist everywhere. And he's transparent...I don't like this. Loki felt like he had some juice in him. Enough for a teleport something,and maybe something extra,if he's lucky. Loki walked casually,away from Scarlett,sliding his hands into his pockets. His left hand,in actuality,entered a linked space. His hand reached out to the suited man's handgun,the biggest threat in a room. Let's see what I can do...

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Loki reached out,and closed his hand...On nothing. His hand went straight through the weapon. "Huh. That's a neat trick!" He smirked,his balaclava still rolled up to his nose. "Illusion,or mistform?"

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-The Burton Settlement-

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Kylar looked at the corpses of the defenders,and back at the men on the wall,Vern and the sheriff,Star. His look was one of disgust. "Those men and women gave their lives to help repel the attack! And you're just going to DRINK YOURSELVES UNDER THE TABLE!? Due to the dead! If you're not going to give them a proper burial,then I will! Get me a shovel!"

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Kylar unstrapped the shield from his arm,and he allowed it to fall to the ground. He dropped his helmet beside the slab of metal,as well. On his way to the corpses,he began stripping off portions of his armour,dropping them in his wake,until all that was left on the suit was the boot plates and the chestpiece.

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-Streets of the South Side-

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Sinclair watched as Garth stood at attention,unable to salute. The General was genuinely pleased to meet the old warhorse. A soldier and veteran he may be,but Sinclair heard that Garth's talents were more in the arts of persuasion than anything else. Garth seemed to have forgotten that he had a man under his combat boot,and hurriedly stepped off the cadaver. "I've only been to one place,the Handbasket. I'll see who I can scrounge up with shows like that,then we'll see about cherry-picking."

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And that's when Sinclair noticed that people were looking on at the old soldier,many seemed angry. It seemed Garth noticed this,too,but more quickly than Sinclair,and was already asking if there was a problem,while cracking his neck. Sinclair muttered,so only Garth could hear, "Do try to defuse the situation. I don't want a riot."

​
 
"They're afraid, as much as they are of you," Garth muttered from the side of his mouth.


"Now, to keep this from happening again, maybe we should establish a chain of command. General?" the middle-aged soldier asked, directing attention to the leader of the bunch, solidifying his position in the chain of command, and testing his new patsy at once.


Albrecht doubted that anything serious would come of such a bunch of weaklings, and with a squad support weapon leveled at them, it would be nothing short of a bloodbath should they decide to rebel.


"You overestimate them," he said to Sinclair, staring, waiting for the mob to do anything, for their minds to be made up.
 
Vern giggled rather childishly at Kylar's obvious consternation and outrage, the man didn't know and Vern couldn't fault him for that but damn was it funny.


"Boy, calm down and look over yonder hill."


Just then group of men and women had just crested the hill in front of Vern's tin shack, the group was made up of thirty or so men and women, each one carried a shovel and a few pushed wheelbarrows, it would be a long night for them but it would be longer still for the sheriff.


"Our job mow is to wait for those people there to take the tags from the dead lying here so the sheriff and I can notify their loved ones and sort out the proceedin's for t'morrah as the last standing in battle. Don't get me wrong boy, I'd dig every one o' their graves m'self but I'd be takin' the hon'r from them there folks makin' their way over here. Now Follow us 'n we'll make toast in hon'r 'o these fallen souls."


His little speech was a long winded one, it even garnered a curious look from the sheriff himself, Vern rolled his shoulders and turned, one of the burial group was walking by and Vern gave him a solemn nod of apology. The Sheriff followed behind and the duo proceeded until the reached the darkened bar, they were greeted with claps on their shoulders and a free drink, neither had checked to see if the erstwhile police officer had followed but they ordered a third shot of whiskey before sitting down at a vacant table.
 
Fog's smile said it all, but he spoke. "What? You didn't think it'd be that easy, did you? Silly, silly rabbit, tricks are for kids. All of us are adults here, or, we will be by the time this entire situation settles." Fog put his gun away, and a mist enveloped the room as he himself disappeared, the fog enveloping the whole room.


"What? Ever see someone with the ability to evaporate? No? I'm shocked!" His voice yelled, and his right arm solidified, right next to Loki's face, and threw a punch at the man.


The doors then opened, as Johnny ran in, however, there was nothing more than the sounds of the doors opening to let anyone know a man entered, as the room was so Foggy that you couldn't see more that three foot in front of you.


"Hello! Anyone in here in need of help!" Johnny yelled in, before a fist slammed into his gut, throwing him off guard, but he tried to retaliate, swinging his own fist into the mist, but finding nothing to hit. "Who are you! If there are good people in here let yourself be known!"
 
Rayna's mind slid into a full predator mode as the fog filled the room, that guy had caused this, that guy that was going to kill her. Fortunately the red-haired woman and umpire were here, those two could most likely put up a fight.


"Who are you! If there are good people in here let yourself be known!" a voice yelled, a voice different from the other men she had just met, she considered calling out, wondering if that would give her position away, until she remembered that the man was the fog....


"Here! Over here," she called out, raising her handgun in defense and crouching down to make herself a harder target, hopefully the boy stayed put and the man didn't touch him. She wouldn't be able to forgive herself if he got hurt or died... She forced herself to focus on her opponent, he could turn himself into mist... but how long could he hold the form for? And how would other factors affect him? A church may not have a ceiling fan but there should be vents... if airflow was even working... there HAD been a recent apocalypse.
 
xxxxxScarlett had already began to feel that tiny tug a fatigue pull at her. After lighting up the torches in the cellar and tossing that head-sized ball of fire beside the man, the side effects had began to take place. Of course, she still had a lot in her, but like everything else in the world, it was limited. Her hand tightened against the hilt of the sword, ready to land a blow when she needed to, but as soon as she saw Loki's hand go straight through the man's gun, the katana began to feel a bit more like some type of sentimental prop than a deadly weapon.


xxxxxWith a flick of her hand, Scarlett lit the church candles on fire. They gave some type of light to help see through some areas here and there, but it wasn't a huge difference. Her senses were on high as she whipped her head around her. This man, was made out of... Fog? She shook her head. It was even more phenomenal than her own powers, Loki's, or any other type of power she had witnessed so far. "Hello! Anyone in here in need of help!" Scarlett's face was left emotionless, and she didn't reply. Whoever this was, it could have been a foe, and she wasn't going to give off her position, but seeing how there was fog all around her, the enemy was, well... everywhere.


xxxxxThe other girl, Rayna, called out almost immediately. Trust didn't seem to be a problem for her. If their lives weren't close to being ended, she would have taken the time to maybe even admire that. The man proceeded to speak, as if asking to be killed, telling them to speak up if they were 'good'." Scarlett remained silent. It wasn't that she was necessarily a bad person, but she wasn't on the better side either. She survived and lived on her terms, and her terms only. Scarlett, instead, stood their silently, her senses at an all time high as she relied on only hearing and her fast reaction to keep herself from getting killed.
 
Christian wanted to cry. Everything was happening so fast. He didn't know what to do. First there was just 4 people, then they died then 3 more came in and started fighting and now there was another voice calling out to people who need help. He needed help but who knew what could happen next? He could be an enemy in disguise or dead in the few seconds of silence following his remark. Christian just knew that he'd be safe, huddled down in the pews for now.


He didn't want to die. 'I don't want to die, I don't know what i'm doing here, I don't want to be here....' he thought as he rocked back and forth, sniffling. He was trying not to cry but the pressure and the fear was making it harder. The flood of tears her felt were coming and coming soon. His vision got blurry and if there had been a gun pointed to his face he wouldn't have been able to see it. He didn't care at the moment. He just wanted to run as fast as he could out of this church. He wiped his eyes and tried to see through the fog. If he could find at least one escape route, he would bolt. And hopefully if he grabbed Rayna's hand as he ran, she would follow.
 
-Church at the North Side Border-

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Loki was gobsmacked. Literally. The force of the sudden blow to the side of his jaw sent him for a little spin,and caused him to bite down on the side of his mouth. After spitting out a gob of blood,Loki said, "Well,that's interesting." He pulled down his balaclava,and called out, "Isn't vapor made of matter...?" Loki knew the answer to this. And if it's made of matter,it can be moved. He noticed pinpricks of light in the fog,barely noticeable. Still,their heat would cause minor air currents. Then came the calling.

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A new player. Male. He couldn't see,but he kept on talking,and,thankfully,so did the girl. I know where everyone is. Good. Loki inhaled deeply through his nose. What he was about to do was a very rare thing. It was extremely draining. It was more efficient to make a tunnel through space,but some things were simply to big or otherwise impossible to move with such tricks.

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Distance wasn't a factor. The destination could be down the street or Yellowknife,and the energy tax would be the same. All that mattered was the volume of the package. Loki opened his eyes,blinded by the pea soup fog,and pictured sending it,and only it, Well,maybe with some extras... Loki thought,pulling the Butterfinger wrapper from his pocket. "Later!" Loki called out in a sing-song voice. And the fog was gone. Not a peep,not a spectacle. Simply...Gone.

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-Hell's Handbasket,South Side-

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The owner of the watering hole was grumbling angrily as he wiped out the umpteenth glass flagon. That General Winters freak just walked in,and walked out with half of his customers! And no one even paid for their drinks! And that slot machine was the worst of the lot. He actually walked away with his glass of liquor!

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But the man's silent ranting was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a pea soup fog in his establishment. "What in the...?"

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-Church at the North Side Border-

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Loki chuckled,seemingly drunkenly. If it wasn't for his balaclava,his shit-eating-grin would be visible to the world. "That was fun..." And then he fell to the floor,out like a light.

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-South Side Streets-

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Sinclair eyed the crowd. The seemingly aggressive elements stood down when they finally realized just what they'd have to deal with. The soldier,now known as General Winters,donned his helmet,and said to Garth, "Good show. I think we can come to help eachother." He turned on his heel,and motioned for the crowd to follow him again. "I need help with administration,Sargent Albrecht. I lack your guile. Some valuable assets may refuse to join us,and charisma alone won't cut it. Will you be able to help?"

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