World of Heroes -- Reboot

"No, I didn't do anything. Do I look like the kinda of guy that would do that?"

There was a brief pause as Mr. Cliche looked on at his accuser with little worry.

"On second thought don't answer that."

Mr. Cliche saw Jay signal for time. This seemed like it was going to turn out bad. He would help when the time came. It would probably help him earn people's trust.

edited 21st Oct '12 10:59:32 AM by Philosopher

"Actually," replied Mastermind, still glaring at Cliche, "I will. You do look like the sort of blighter who would do such a thing. Strongman?"

The large, burly man in the black bodysuit slowly turned around, letting out a low grunt of surprise.

"Rough this sod up a bit, would you? But not overly so; we don't know for certain if he's related — though considering that he was standing right outside the door, I'd say it's a fair wager that he is. And please, don't bring the Shwarma into this..."

Strongman gave a loud grunt of affirmation, then turned towards Mr.Cliche. "You will stand still right where you are. You will move a muscle. If you do, I will punch you. If you continue to move, I will continue punching you until you give yourself up. However, if you surrender immediately, there will only be an interrogation." The way Strongman said those words, the less it sounded like a request, and more like a demand...

Mr. Cliche reflexively held up his opened hands in a defensive posture, "Woah, woah. Wouldn't roughing me up be against your normal super...."

"Your...regular heroes, right. Not antiheroes? Because I'm basically a civilian that was getting ready to go skiing when I heard some commotion over here"

"I've stopped him." Isaac answered. "Probably won't be using that hand for a while..." he muttered loud enough to hear.

"Do you have any forces to secure this place?" he asked. "We don't want anyone else getting their hands on this suit."

"Let's see what they do now."

Jay spilled the tub of oil on the supers, and prepared to bring out his matches. The slim chance that they couldn't dodge it was all too worth it...

edited 22nd Oct '12 5:46:51 AM by eternalNoob

Luc' was immediately pushed back right to the high part of wall facing his back, unable to to move an inch so long as the G-Force was at this sheer level; the warped air was also right in front of Luc's now, as well. It appeared to be fading in and out, with a brief image of a man colored a very dark black with long arms and legs, and his genitals covered in a sheathe, appearing in place of the seemingly warped air.

"Yeah," said Robert, "I'll—"

But before Isacc could hear what Robert further had to say, his cellphone was ripped out of his grasp and flown straight across the room by an unseen, invisible force. "Now, now," said a somewhat familiar voice, "none of that."

A man in a white tuxedo wearing a Greek Comedy mask with two sharp swords, each in a fine sheath on either side of him, could be seen in front of the entryway to the stairs. In fact, if Isacc remembered correctly, h=it might have been that same man he saw at the Prison Break a day or two ago. "So...", he said, "we meet again. I trust that you're the one responsible for the good doctor lying on the floor?" The unconscious manwas suddenly thrusted up into the air, now dangling 6 feet above the ground. "Pathetic. Our own Dr.Reich succeeded in his goal... though perhaps, the results were a bit beyond what he had planned." The doctor was then dropped straight onto the floor, still unconscious. "But," continued Comedy, "'all's well that ends well', or it will end well, soon enough." Comedy then drew out both of his swords. "I suppose you're going to assault me, aren't you? Typical. Very well... though the results will be very much the same as the other night..."

edited 22nd Oct '12 5:51:23 PM by kkhohoho

With his opponents subdued, Arguma returned the cockpits dampeners to their regular levels then immediately turned away from the Exiles controls temporarily to open fire with his weapon. He didn't worry about accuracy so much as shooting as many shots as possible as quickly as possible.

   "SHUT UP!"    The Devourer roared. His fists were once again enlarged and spiked, this time joined by two more pairs protruding from his back. He lept forward, propelled to superhuman speeds by High-Pressure Blood, three fists swinging towards Comedy's mask.

edited 22nd Oct '12 8:11:39 AM by Insano

Mr. Cliche screamed as he saw Jay drop the oil, "Noooo! stop!"

He looked Mastermind in the eye, My friend has mistaken you for villains. Don't attack him and get out of the way. Nobody has to get hurt if you explain to him you are moles to the real villains and we all pretend this didn't happen we can still employ that plot. Plan, I mean plan!"

edited 22nd Oct '12 8:24:40 AM by Philosopher

As Mr.Cliche started hastily talking to the villains, the tub strangely seemed to slow down drastically in mid-air, and as he talked to them, the Radicals quickly noticed the tub hovering ahead.

"Sorry guv," said Mastermind just as Cliche was finishing up his trope-usage, and as all the Radical's started running like hell, (except for Lightning, who was carried out by Strongman,) "but I think we'd better get out of here, you included..."

And so the tub fell, but thanks to Mr.Cliche, they were all able to get out in time.

Jay held a lit up match stick, and just stood there and stared at the fleeing supers, taking Mr. Cliche with them. Tons of possibilities popped up in the boy's head, but other than knowing he did, he couldn't exactly tell how badly he screwed up.

The night was far from over, though. Instead of enjoying his newly re-acquired bar, and wallowing in self pity, he decided to pursue the group, by hopping from rooftop to rooftop; in order to either plead for their forgiveness, and promise it'll never happen again, or blow them up, and take all their stuff.

Mr. Cliche followed the radicals smiling as he went.

"Where are we going?"

As it turned out, there were a hole bunch of entrances into the lobby, where the disturbance originated.

While hiding behind barricades comprised of over-turned desks, tables and various bric-a-brac drawn from the offices beyond, Saltire offered his assistance to some rattled officers, their weapons pointed into the entrance beyond.

"Look, chief, I'm offering you an easy way out," the masked man tried to convinced the kevlar-clad officer in charge where they were hunkered down. "Let me, a duly-appointed," he did not mention that the appointment was fairly recent. "Government agent go ahead and deal with the super, maybe try to talk it down and confirm if anyone there is still breathing. At the very least, you'll have an idea what you're going to be dealing with." Hopefully not at the expense of my life, messed up as it is.

The officer in charge looked dubious. Here was a stranger who was brought in for shooting up a whole bunch of people then was suddenly offering his help in dealing with a force of unknown quality that blew its way inside from the most unlikeliest of places. While it was apparent from the body language what he thought of the whole business, the point was well-thought-out. Better that some random mystery man blown in from the four winds lose his life rather than hard-working police officers. He turned to his command and told them to stand down.

"Hope you know what you're doing, mac."

Saltire didn't give a response as he hopped over the barricade and cautiously made his way to the door of the office where Kali had appeared. He wasn't alone. Next to the door, other officers in full gear had stacked up. Peering in, he decided to try the forthright approach.

"Hello," he called inside. "Anyone in there? We're coming in!"

edited 27th Oct '12 7:54:11 PM by mantlemask

As Scio ventured into Kali's mind, he could now see a pitch-black darkness, with only a bright spotlight illuminating anything at all. And in the center of the spotlight appeared to be Kali; however, she appeared to be very much worse for wear. She was kneeled down on the ground, and the only thing she had on was a binding set of chains on her hands and bare feet. And constantly whipping her, constantly causing her to scream out in agonizing pain, was an old man in blue jeans, a white undershirt, a brown bomber jacket, with sunglasses and a gold tooth as well. And such a wicked grin could be seen on his face...

Isacc's three outstretched fists were outright halted straight in mid-air, with Isacc unable to do a thing. However, the fourth inactive fist was still free. "Come now," said Comedy, "you can do better then that." He then leaped into the air, and sliced clean off the leftmost of the three fists. "Are you ready for another?"

edited 25th Oct '12 5:07:41 AM by kkhohoho

Unfortunately, Arguma's weapon had no effect on Luc' who was still made out of metal. However, perhaps if he could somehow get Luc to change to a material that his weapon would have an effect on, he would have better results... (Either that, or he'd have to try something completely different...)

edited 25th Oct '12 9:44:34 AM by kkhohoho

In the middle of hopping from roof top to rooftop, with the grace of a toad belly flopping in a tub of lard, the mask started getting a little bit too hot for Jay's taste. Well, it was in the dead of night, and none of the horrible creatures of the night have reared their ugly faces, so he decided to take both the clown and the gimp mask off, and proceeded to the leaping. He could always wear them again, once he gets close enough to the supers.

Reluctantly, Arguma swapped his weapons mode from stun to kill, then fired again. It wasn't his preferred course of action, but given everything that was happening, he had been left with little choice in the matter.

"...Earth below us, drifting falling...."

Sora lounged on the sofa in his little flat, watching TV with a pack of corn chips beside him. Despite his lax exterior he was viewing the channels on TV in hopes of picking up anything related to any Super human activity- of course there were many incidences but he was looking in particular for unregistered activity- meaning super human activity by unregistered heroes.

The recent conflict had got the media foaming at the mouth- partially why some agents from the government came knocking at his door last week.

"Mr Okato, your leave of absence is to end next week- the government would like you to start working again due to recent events. There is no need to worry as all your actions will be covered by the organisation, though if you are caught the government will claim total innocence".

Sora simply bit his lip and nodded. It had been nine years since his last assignment....and the last time he wasn't rusty, nor did he consider himself to have had a personality back then.

Sora yawned and crunched on a corn chip. "Don't you just hate it when you are the Only one for the job?"

He knew that back in his room on his bed was a hed to toe combat suit, a jet black longcoat and a creepy looking silver mask with no eye slits. Tonight he was to resume his identity as The Reaper- a job he wasn't really looking forward to.

"'We'", said Mastermind, looking back to Mr.Cliche, "are heading nowhere. Myself and the others are heading off to who-knows-where, while you can do as you please. Savy?"

Luc was knocked straight back from the deadly blast from Arguma's weapon; thanks to Luc still being made of metal, he survived, but at the same time, he took quite the hit; he would have a rather deep dent in his body — providing that he was still made out of metal. He could still feel the damage from the blast, but when it hit, his skin made contact — and by the time Luc was slumped onto the ground, hurt but still conscious, he was now a conscious energy-construct, made of the same energy as that which lay in Arguma's wrist-weapon. And now, slowly getting up, as his clothes were steadily being blasted away by his own body, an eerie, dangerous smile creeped onto his face, his right arm hanging loosely, as if he was hungry for more...

As Sora continued watching his little television, he eventually swore he could hear something outside. His suspicions were confirmed when a group of nine consumed beings ran straight past his window, not stopping for anything at all, really. Perhaps it would be best to check it out...

"Evan... Malinche... No... Malandros, yeah that sounds good" A young man thought. Said young man was currently perched on the railings of some stairs leading up to an apartment building somewhere. "a name, good, that's a start" This man arrived to this particular earth about a day or two ago and he was a bit disoriented. Yet, he was happy, not only he escaped unrighteous punishment, he was in a new, big world. Yet things weren't all rose colored, he lost the prospect of a good life, his abilities diminished, he was hungry, homeless, and apparently the money of his world didn't mean anything here... It looked like a good peaceful life was still miles away.

Jay stopped mid hopping, and slowly descended from the rooftop, to get a better view of the group's discussi-

-slip