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Meanken Since: May, 2013
#76: Dec 18th 2015 at 10:50:12 AM

Vergil

As I entered the town, I saw much of the same. The odor in the air smelled of death and dust from destroyed buildings. The streets stood empty that I passed through, the residents no doubt hiding or otherwise keeping out of the way. In front of me I saw the blonde man in the suit and the demon girl from earlier. She was asking for the mayor of the town to reveal himself, and for a reason I could not fathom the blonde haired man claimed to be the mayor. Perhaps he was hoping that the current mayor was dead and that he could inpersnate him and order the townspeople around. This flawed plan was doomed the second someone noticed he looked nothing like the current mayor or the real one presented himself.

I decided to demonstrate a major flaw in his plan that he had not thought of. I stepped forward to him, and as I closed the distance I noticed something strange. I could not identify any pulse in his body. It was not a thing one would note from a distance, but if one knew where to look and what to look for, the signs were unmistakable. There was a few possibilities for what he was, but it was clear that whatever it was, he was not human. I then asked my question.

"If you are the mayor, then answer me this simple question. What is the name of this town?"

edited 18th Dec '15 10:51:02 AM by Meanken

SonOfSharknado Love is Love is Love Since: Oct, 2013 Relationship Status: And they all lived happily ever after <3
Love is Love is Love
#77: Dec 18th 2015 at 11:07:16 AM

Dio blinked. How had he overlooked something like that? Had death addled his great wits? He also finally realized that his lack of pulse was a rather damning bit of evidence. He could lie. But this silver-haired gentleman seemed too cunning for that. He would have to kill the man later. Dio decided that there was only way out of this: to cut and run. He chuckled and, unwittingly, exposed his fangs as he spoke.

"THE WORLD!" With that, time froze. Using his vampiric speed he removed himself from the strange pair and leaped over the crowd so as to not leave a trail, disappearing in the back allies and among the crush of humanity. He took off his rather-obtuse top hat and let time continue with three seconds to spare. Still, the act of freezing time had drained him and left him weary. In an effort to regain his strength, Dio grabbed at the first person to walk past his alley and dragged them into the shadows, one hand over their mouth as the other hand bore into their neck to drink their blood until they were but a husk.

My various fanfics.
OG-Sama Mancunian Candidate Since: Jan, 2015 Relationship Status: I get a feeling so complicated...
Mancunian Candidate
#78: Dec 18th 2015 at 1:10:35 PM

Bester

A man whose disguise mostly amounted to taking off his sweater and throwing on an overcoat, Bester has very little to fiddle with. He wouldn't anyway. All costumed up and feeling strangely childish, he's loathe to give into the sensation he's playing dress-up. The cape is a nice touch. He does not admit this.

The hat, a respectable kind of bowler, is making sweet love to his toupee in the wind. This is likewise immaterial.

While his workmates spread their own feelers into the crowd, he finds his center and begins the process of disengaging the barriers that shield him the errant thoughts of humanity at large. No telepath he's ever encountered could perform a meaningful scan on this many people at once, of course, not without turning his brain to a dozen different kinds of mush, but that's the trick - he doesn't have to.

It isn't even scanning, not really, although the legal ramifications will never enter a court of law. It's an entirely passive activity. Imagine you're taking a drive past a municipal park full of bluebells at mid-day on a Saturday, window open, letting the mingling smells of garlic and low-grade skunk waft around you. It's like that.

On a single mind, it's just an impression. A snapshot of indistinct feeling. A single waft of overpriced dope, a bluebell out the corner of your eye. But get enough minds together, pass over enough impressions in turn, and any man worth his training can piece together a picture.

Bester's getting one, crisp and clear. People, unsurprisingly, are scared. It's a suppressed fear, a sadness buried under a busy schedule, the everyday anxiety of a threat out of view, but it's all there. Lurking in the background, under-pointing the static emotional noise of day-to-day existence. If he had to quantify it, he'd call it a shift towards despair. Edging closer and closer, for now still on tippy-toes.

Outliers notwithstanding.

Panic is a ways off. The invaders are still busy in the north, razing London to the ground, and the endorphins of a temporary escape haven't had the time to flush away. These are the dying days of the British Empire. Everyone can see the writing and the wall, even those who can't read. But because everyone knows, because it's common knowledge, because it's common sense, an agreement has arisen completely unspoken; when it comes, it's every man for himself. Settle the old scores before they stop mattering, for the consequences burned along with London.

But there, right in the middle of it all, there's outlier in the opposite direction. A single mind who stands out amongst an uncertain crowd. A mind for whom the future is certainty, now and forever, unfazed by the disaster playing free in the collective consciousness. In times like these, that shines like a beacon. Someone in the municipal park is screaming 'look at me'.

You can't pinpoint, not with this technique, not without someone to triangulate and a spare half-hour, but he can tell they're close. Out of curiosity he looks around, knowing exactly the bearings and posture the impression implies, and finds the likeliest target only a few meters away with the bruised Ms. Kijin - tall, posture pointedly slouched but otherwise perfect, blonde and musclebound. To a certain mind, the perfect human specimen.

And then, as soon as he's found him, he disappears.

"On a roll today, Yokai," he says, still mentally charting the waters. "He didn't go far. Somewhere... somewhere on the far edge of the crowd. Very distinctive attitude he has. Real -oh."

He bites the inside of his cheek for a moment, processing, before nodding to himself matter-of-factly.

"Somebody just died. Huh. Real go-getter, like I was saying."

edited 18th Dec '15 3:01:38 PM by OG-Sama

wikkit Since: Sep, 2009
#79: Dec 20th 2015 at 6:55:43 PM

Dio's mannerisms certainly caught Seija off guard. She hadn't read anything about people kissing hands as the norm, so the sudden forwardness of the tall man took her aback, her cheeks flashing red in embarrassment. She'd just met the man, and he was already making advances like this to her!? The small portion of her brain dedicated to acting like a normal, non-chaotic non-demon kind of person quickly figured that it must be what people in this backwards country do to one another, but it still surprised her. Not that this Brando-man wasn't attractive, to say the least. Why, she'd simply hate to-

Not a brief pause, a second, a thought or an instant later, the light pressure on her hand disappeared and Dio's towering figure was replaced by an empty space in the road. She was left wide-eyed and baffled. She had thought that there wasn't supposed to be anything out of the "ordinary" in this world (outside of the giant machines of alien death), and the first person she meets disappears without a trace? The psychic behind her started talking, and then confirmed a death. Seija slowly turned her head, her arm still limply hanging in the air, and asked, "W-Well, do you think we should be checking this out?"

Stratofarius huzzaaaaaaaah Since: Aug, 2011
huzzaaaaaaaah
#80: Dec 21st 2015 at 12:00:08 PM

"I'm sorry," A voice spoke up besides Seija. It belonged to a frail old man wearing clothes that would have made him a 'noble' in older, calmer days. But now, it was all tattered and destroyed, with the only intact thing being the top hat he held close to his chest. "But did you say a shelter?"

That phrase captured the attention of everyone in the area, and they immediately stopped what they were doing to stare at Seija and the other agents. Murmurs began to spread over the crowds, the hungry and tired eyes moving towards Seija, waiting for her to make another move.

"Did she say shelter?"

"Yes, that's what I heard too!"

"Are they building a shelter?"

"Please, take me! I don't have anywhere to stay!"

As the murmurs began to bubble up into a budding mob, a small, dirty boy snuck up behind Stitch, trying to grab him by his chest and drag him away. "Look, guys! Look what I got!" He yelled to a group of similarly dirt-covered boys, all of them smiling at the sight of their latest 'get'. "Do you guys think it has an owner?"

Meanken Since: May, 2013
#81: Dec 21st 2015 at 12:54:08 PM

Vergil

The response I got from my question was most surprising. One second he stood in front of me, his eyes telling me he had not considered this question. The next, he had vanished. It was not teleportation as I knew it, I did not believe. Usually that leaves some sign of its use, even if only for a split second. But this man, whoever he was, had just vanished as if he had never been there. But I could not at that time say exactly what had happened if not teleportation. Perhaps that was an illusion?

Another agent arrived at that point to criticize me for asking a valid question and inform us that the man had already killed someone. Before I could respond, more humans approached. They had apparently heard the loud mouthed demon girl talking about a shelter, and now were swarming us. I had no interest whatsoever in dealing with the humans. But the vanishing man had attracted my attention. I turned to the one who told me he had killed someone already and asked a simple question.

"Can you track him?"

OG-Sama Mancunian Candidate Since: Jan, 2015 Relationship Status: I get a feeling so complicated...
Mancunian Candidate
#82: Dec 21st 2015 at 6:08:46 PM

"I can't pinpoint, but I can get you into visual range," says Bester, a man slipping effortlessly into police mode, "He's staying put for now, so still the other side of the crowd. If he killed someone that means he's not out in the open, so check the alleyway between that mill over there and the... whatever that is. If he moves, I'll keep you posted."

There's a pause, lasting just long enough for Virgil to turn away but not quite long enough for him to leave. The timing is impeccable - Bester's had a lot of practice.

"And, uh, I hope this goes without saying, but don't give him the chance to see you coming. This guy, well, let's just say he won't appreciate the attitude. We don't want another Roswell."

edited 21st Dec '15 6:10:42 PM by OG-Sama

troydenite Since: Mar, 2011
#83: Dec 22nd 2015 at 3:08:01 AM

In the Warehouse, Or Wow We're Behind

"You cannot help me, Magician," sighed Gil. "There is nothing I could possibly want. And you have not answered my question - so I will exercise my prerogative, and be myself.”

The boy straightened up, and in that moment seemed truly royal. His levity, his amused air, his childish mannerisms - all fell from him like so much dirt. His eyes blossomed into coronas of blazing, inhuman intelligence. Even the light recoiled, as if ashamed to sully his skin.

The god-sheen was on him.

“Your true name, Magician. Strange you may be, in truth and in title, but I would know your full appellation before we begin. Quickly. I do not wish to waste my breath.”

What little doubt that had still lingered in Dr. Strange's mind was dispelled. Truly, the divine aura was unmistakeable. Nevertheless, there was no sign of surprise or subservience in the sorcerer's eyes.

"Dr. Stephen Strange is my true name, your Lordship. I was at the time of my death the Sorcerer Supreme of my world, and I remain as such in the afterlife."

"Gilgamesh. You may call me Your Majesty, or Gilgamesh. I am no noble, Steven Strange."

But he turned, to cast his level gaze up into the sorcerer's eyes. And for once it seemed he was not looking down.

"The Sorcerer Supreme," Gilgamesh said at last. "Yes. A fitting title, Steven. I have no great love for Mages, but I believe I will give you a chance to prove yourself."

"I do not know mages in your world, Gilgamesh, but I think I can safely say that they are nothing like me."

This too was simply a statement of fact.

"What happened between you and them?" Strange asked.

"Their crime, Steven, was nothing but simple arrogance. The Mage believes himself more valuable than his fellow humans, simply because his ancestors scribbled a few spells on the World. Children, all of them, scratching meaningless lines in the soil of my garden. And they call themselves wise."

The boy gave a slow, mocking smile.

"I am the sole arbiter of value in this Heaven and Earth. As the owner of all, only I can judge. And I have seen humanity, Steven. I have seen the groping fetid mass that passes itself as human in this present day."

Gilgamesh spread his arms ever-so-slightly, as if sifting twin handfuls of leaking sand.

"I have weighed them, and I find them all equally worthless. But you are different. The reason is immaterial, but I have found you worthy of my notice. You should be rejoicing, really."

"Thank you, Gilgamesh."

Well, thought Strange, at least they were off to a pleasant start. But the boy saw something in his eyes, and laughed.


Present Day, Present Time

Gil had considered his disguise for approximately five times as long as it should have taken him -cycling through his twenty-nine ancient Chinese cravats had been more of a chore than he'd expected. He finally decided, therefore, on a white silk shirt, an understated burgundy waistcoat with sterling silver buttons (no diamonds!), matching black pants, soft calf-leather shoes and a plain gold pocket-watch. It was only nineteen-karat, at any rate, and completely unadorned. The depths which he stooped to.

Then again, he supposed it was healthy for the King to experience the lives of his lowly subjects at some point or another.

(As a tribute to his indecision, he knotted all the cravats into a little multicolored ball and tossed them back into the Gate. They'd sort themselves out. Eventually.)

"Unhand my mongrel, mongrels!"

So saying, Gil cast an imperious hand towards the rowdy boys, meaning to deliver his royal justice - or he would have, if his royal brain had not at that precise moment recollected the need for discreetness. The hand froze. Gil's expression creaked slowly, like an agonized puppet, into a twitching, shut-eyed grin. His fingers groped their way into an upraised thumb. Like the gladiatorial symbol for death, which (Gil reasoned with his usual lucidity) was a perfectly good substitute for the actual sentence.

"I mean," he ground out, "that's my dog. For realsies. Hahahaha."

edited 22nd Dec '15 4:22:25 AM by troydenite

Katarsus Annoyed Mode: ON Since: Sep, 2014 Relationship Status: One True Dodecahedron
Annoyed Mode: ON
#84: Dec 22nd 2015 at 4:04:32 PM

And of course, Stitch just had to be abducted by children. After five times, the chain of events was not particularly surprising, and he didn't really mind it that much either way. Apparently children immediately considered him to be cute and fluffy, which pleased him. But he clearly had a collar that time.

Then Gilgamesh called everyone "mongrel".

Under normal circumstances, Stitch would've yelled something involving Gilgamesh's mother in Tantalog, but he was supposed to be a dog. Then again, no one back in Hawaii seemed to think that a dog dressed like Elvis Presley and playing the guitar was particularly... not dog-like. But still, he had to watch his language in front of the children.

So he just limited himself to nodding approvingly when the boy corrected himself and barking.

"Bow wow."

NitrousThunder Yeeeeah! Uh-huh! Wiz Khalifa Knows What It Is! from the Wild Side Since: Jun, 2012 Relationship Status: If the gov't can read my mind, they know I'm thinking of you
Yeeeeah! Uh-huh! Wiz Khalifa Knows What It Is!
#85: Dec 22nd 2015 at 11:14:18 PM

Back Then (They Didn't Want Me)

Johnny Cage didn't need to do much in terms of equipment. He reached into his coat, just to see if he'd left anything in there by accident, and sure enough, there was his favorite pair of nunchucks. It would look strange, true, but the idea of a man traveling to the Far East wasn't that out of place in England at that time, was it? As for his disguise, he grabbed a top hat out of the wardrobe the Artisan had provided and stashed his sunglasses in his coat pocket. If he really needed them, he'd deal with that later.

"Thanks," he said over his shoulder to the Artisan. "See you later." Then, Cage walked through the door and into his first mission.


Now (I'm Hot, They All On Me)

"All right, all right," said Johnny, stepping between Gilgamesh and Stitch with one palm facing each. "This is a very nice dog, but we don't need to go calling each other names over who gets to keep him." He paused a moment, just to give everybody time to cool down, then looked around at the crowd. "Ahem...I should probably mention, this is my first day in town. I've been traveling all over, and I haven't heard much in the way of news about this place. Can anyone fill me in on what's been happening around here lately?"

Just pretend I wrote something witty here, okay?
DoctorThunder Since: Sep, 2010
#86: Dec 23rd 2015 at 4:31:27 PM

Yet more unfamiliar fashion. Coupled with the inconsiderable height of the average Man, slim were my chances of hiding amidst this populace. Still, I quickly dressed myself and followed the others through to our destination.

Upon arrival, it became clear that my size was far from the most pressing matter on the citizens' minds. The people were in a panic, attacked by that which they did not understand, and against which they could not even strike back. I must confess, my thoughts were of Oolacile, even as screams and wails filled the streets of Chobham.

The faintest hint of salvation set the populace upon us, despite us being perfect strangers to them; or perhaps it was for that very reason. They knew they could not find a savior among their neighbors, so instead they turned to the first unusual thing that did not hunt them down, and begged for sanctuary. Were it not for my brush with a similar catastrophe, I might have rushed forth to battle the "Martians" right then and there, as they were called. It was my good fortune that my past mistakes had taught me better.

Just then, Bester and Vergil spoke in hushed conference, having noticed the disappearance of the "mayor" just as I had: The man called Dio Brando had vanished, and Bester's psychic intuition seemed to tell him that he'd likely just killed someone. The way he reported it, "someone" clearly did not mean one of our targets.

"I will follow at a distance." I said, setting my eyes on the far edge of the crowd. "If he can vanish in the blink of an eye, he may be more than either of us can safely subdue alone. Injuring ourselves would only serve to make the rest of our mission that much more difficult." That bit was mostly for Vergil, admittedly. He was obviously quite confident in his abilities, and for all I knew, he really didn't need my assistance. Better safe than sorry, of course.

With that, I made my way towards the alleyway Bester had pointed out to us, taking care to stay as inconspicuous as I could, despite my size. Whatever had happened, I intended to get to the bottom of it.

edited 24th Dec '15 10:25:24 AM by DoctorThunder

Stratofarius huzzaaaaaaaah Since: Aug, 2011
huzzaaaaaaaah
#87: Dec 24th 2015 at 4:17:36 AM

The main kid looked at Stitch for one moment, then at Gilgamesh and Johnny and suddenly ripped his collar right off.

"Nuh uh. We found him first!" He yelled, the other kids nodding in approval.

"Finders keepers! Sod off!" One of the kids added from behind whilst another kid suddenly stomped on Johnny's foot, blowing him a raspberry as the main kid ran back to his friends, eager to show off Stitch.

"Wot do ya mean, ya daan't kna what's been garn on?" Yelled one of the shelter-hungry citizens, this one looking like he had seen far better days- although he still had enough energy within him to furrow his brow and glare right into Johnny's eyes. "Ain't ya looked aahhht of your burnt cinder in the chuffin' past few days? We're bein' attacked by invaders from outer space! London is na rubble, for cryin' aahhht loud!"

He turned to his fellow citizens, rage in his eyes as he pointed to the agents. "Do ya guys 'eaven and 'ell adam 'n eve this idiot is garn ter build us a shelter? 'e doesn't even kna abaht the bloomin' Martians!"

NitrousThunder Yeeeeah! Uh-huh! Wiz Khalifa Knows What It Is! from the Wild Side Since: Jun, 2012 Relationship Status: If the gov't can read my mind, they know I'm thinking of you
Yeeeeah! Uh-huh! Wiz Khalifa Knows What It Is!
#88: Dec 24th 2015 at 10:43:36 PM

"Agh!" Johnny recoiled, clutching his foot for a moment before gently setting it back down. Then, he turned to the angry citizen. "Of course I knew about the Martians already. That was the part I'd already heard, and I figured it didn't need saying. What I meant was...this might not be something i can ask all in one question." He paused a moment to think. "I guess what I'm asking are the details of the situation. You know, like, how long has it been since the last attack? What sorts of weapons are they using to do this? Do they have actual tactics, or are they just relying on sheer firepower to do the work?"

edited 24th Dec '15 10:50:37 PM by NitrousThunder

Just pretend I wrote something witty here, okay?
kagescorpionakki Breath of the Sun from Long Ago Since: Apr, 2009 Relationship Status: Anime is my true love
Breath of the Sun
#89: Dec 25th 2015 at 6:26:05 PM

Rather than take the offered disguises, Alex opted to shift the biomass that masqueraded as his clothing into something appropriate, ignoring the damnable groaning of his body in response (so even such a tiny use of his abilities shed some biomass? Annoying.). Nothing fancy, simply a raggedy shirt and trousers that wouldn't look out of place on a farmer.

Their equipment was... interesting. He didn't know how the Agency expected such a group to remain inconspicuous when they were toting around a giant glowing gravity manipulator. He didn't care, either. His comrades banter and interactions with the locals went as expected while he observed and scanned the area. Too many people. No way to consume without being noticed.

He growled under his breath, but remained quiet. They'd get to building the shelter soon enough, and at least then he'd have something to do.

edited 25th Dec '15 6:27:01 PM by kagescorpionakki

What is so amusing about this? Why do you take lives? How can you forget?
SonOfSharknado Love is Love is Love Since: Oct, 2013 Relationship Status: And they all lived happily ever after <3
Love is Love is Love
#90: Dec 27th 2015 at 8:44:06 AM

Recovered from his use of THE WORLD, Dio began to search out the town's graveyard. Now that people were suspicious of him, he would need soldiers.

My various fanfics.
Stratofarius huzzaaaaaaaah Since: Aug, 2011
huzzaaaaaaaah
#91: Dec 28th 2015 at 4:52:00 AM

"Wot kind of questions 're those?!" The cockney man exclaimed, shoving a finger right into Johnny's face. "Stop lyin' ter us! Ya daan't kna wot these invaders want and you're not garn ter build us a shelter! 're ya sum fancy London scam, tryin' ter take wot lil' Bread and Honey we 'ave left?! 'eaven and 'ell, 'ere's me answer ter ya, mate!" He finished, following it up with the most telegraphed punch in history.


DIO would find that the cemetery wasn't as empty as they used to be. With most inns and house already filled up to the brim, people were trying to find a place to lay down their heads and rest up. All they needed was some shade, and the trees of the cemetery provided enough of a base for them to sleep under. The smell didn't matter to them, and they made sure to not sleep on top of any actual graves, but no empty space could go unused in this time of need.

SonOfSharknado Love is Love is Love Since: Oct, 2013 Relationship Status: And they all lived happily ever after <3
Love is Love is Love
#92: Dec 28th 2015 at 7:17:48 AM

It was all DIO could do not to burst into a fit of maniacal laughter, which would no doubt have woken the patrons of the cemetery. This was even better than summoning to life a field of rotting corpses. He moved silently and effortlessly through the sleeping rabble, driving his fingers into their necks two at a time. If no one arrived to stop him or made a fuss, he would turn every last one.

My various fanfics.
Meanken Since: May, 2013
#93: Dec 28th 2015 at 8:02:24 AM

Vergil

Luckly this human, unlike most of his kind, was competent in his job, and quickly gave me the information I wanted. As I turned to leave, he brought up one particular incident which I have previously discussed.

Of course he had to mention that.

"I thought we had agreed never to speak of that event ever again?" I said, looking over my shoulder. "And for the record, that was not my fault." I could only imagine what my brother would say if he ever learned of the true cause of the Roswell incident.

Turning away from the group, I ignored the ramblings of the rest of the "Team" as I entered a quiet alley and jumped onto a roof. Walking in the direction pointed, I sighted the man quickly, as even in his outfit he was easily spotted and did not appear to be making much attempts at stealth. I continued quietly tracking him until he reached a graveyard that had been turned into a makeshift refugee camp. At this point the man began moving around and killing the humans in the area one by one. I groaned, already seeing how this was going to end. I hopped off of the roof and approached him.

"Fool!" I said in a low voice, attempting to avoid waking the remaining humans. "I care nothing for these humans, but did you not hear the part where we were told to protect them? Killing the humans in their sleep does not count as protecting them. And at some point the humans are going to notice if an entire refugee camp is slaughtered to the man without any evidence of alien weapons being used."

SonOfSharknado Love is Love is Love Since: Oct, 2013 Relationship Status: And they all lived happily ever after <3
Love is Love is Love
#94: Dec 28th 2015 at 11:32:21 AM

DIO turned to the strange man with the sword who had ruined his little scheme earlier and chuckled. Who did this fool think he was to presume that he could lecture the great DIO?

"Do not presume that your methods of protection are any better than mine. And do not ever presume to lecture I, DIO." With that DIO leaped high into the air as the "corpses" started to move. "Good people!" he called down as he landed with perfect grace upon a rooftop. "Do you truly wish for these outsiders to be your salvation? These liars who know nothing of your plight? How do you know that they are not minions of the Martians themselves, corralling you into one convenient place for their masters to kill you all?" He held out a balled fist and spoke with resolute and steely delivery.

"What you truly want in your hearts is the strength to defend yourselves! For the power to beat these devils from the stars back to the Hell they crawled out of! Is that so?" He waited for the rabble to cheer like the dogs they were. "Then all I ask of you..." he paused to be dramatic and spread his arms wide, "Is to embrace my children." With that, the zombified refugees in the graveyard charged from the shadows to assimilate and consume the rest of the town. DIO threw his head back and laughed.

My various fanfics.
wikkit Since: Sep, 2009
#95: Dec 30th 2015 at 11:53:54 AM

Seija wasn't taking to crowd speaking like usual. Perhaps it was the combination of all these unfamiliar sights and smells, or perhaps she was just a bit rusty, but she froze for a bit as the mob turned towards her. Most of her comrades had already left to go deal with Dio, so she had just about no-one to fall back on.

As the crowd grew more venomous and more aware of their lack of knowledge, she remained silent. What the hell is this, she screamed at herself. You're the Seija Kijin, and in this kind of shit situation you do your worst! She felt the subconscious need to slap herself out of this, but considering the audience she had, she felt it would just make it more awkward.

Someone was acting belligerent towards Mr. Cage. She managed to get out, "No, we don't want anything in return," before a punch was thrown. At the same time, Dio returned and did nothing short of blowing their cover straight to Former Hell, his booming voice echoing well into the town square. "Well, to hell with subtlety, then!" She quickly unslung her pack, and retrieved nothing short of the best weapon in the world: The Miracle Mallet! She took to the skies, ignoring the reactions of the no-doubt stupefied townsfolk, and tried to divebomb Dio with the intention of taking his head clean off with the golden hammer.

SonOfSharknado Love is Love is Love Since: Oct, 2013 Relationship Status: And they all lived happily ever after <3
Love is Love is Love
#96: Dec 30th 2015 at 2:37:29 PM

DIO looked up at Seija with smug superiority as she pressed her foolish attack. The golden arm of THE WORLD came flying out of his aura to meet the hammer and block it with a punch. Not that she could see it, of course. The best thing about Stands was that only other Stand Users could see them. He chuckled again before leaping at her with a spinkick while she was preoccupied with THE WORLD.

"Useless, useless, useless!" he chided the strange little demon girl.

Psychics could totally see THE WORLD, though.

edited 30th Dec '15 2:38:13 PM by SonOfSharknado

My various fanfics.
NitrousThunder Yeeeeah! Uh-huh! Wiz Khalifa Knows What It Is! from the Wild Side Since: Jun, 2012 Relationship Status: If the gov't can read my mind, they know I'm thinking of you
Yeeeeah! Uh-huh! Wiz Khalifa Knows What It Is!
#97: Dec 30th 2015 at 6:34:42 PM

Johnny Cage blocked the punch with an open palm and a bored expression on his face. The commoner's fist bounced harmlessly off of it.

"She's right, you know," he said, nodding back at Seija. "We're not here to take anything. We're just here to give people a chance to survive." Then, of course, Dio had to go up on the rooftops and make his grand speech, at which Cage rolled his eyes and started mockingly mouthing. It was one thing to fight against these megalomaniacal types who made these grand speeches and had no clue what subtlety was. It was another entirely for these people to be, as Cage was starting to realize, his co-workers. Sure, he knew he was the only A-list actor employed with the Agency on this mission—once you worked in Hollywood long enough, you could just recognize them in the way they carried themselves—and that those acting skills were probably what had gotten him the job, but he would have thought that the Agency would pick people who could blend in. Standing on rooftops and sending zombies at people was the exact opposite of blending in.

He was very tempted to point at Dio and shout, "See that guy? That's your swindler! That man wants to kill you!" But at this point, he honestly thought that would end in another angry person in the crowd saying "'eaven and 'ell"—what was with these people and that phrase?—and then attempting to hit him, followed by the rest of the crowd gleefully lining up to get eaten by zombies. That was the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen.

So instead, Johnny just said, "Pardon me for a second," turned away from the crowd, and adopted a Jeet Kune Do fighting stance. It was all he could do not to yell "Round one. FIGHT!" before he ran up to one of the zombies and threw a punch at its chest.

Just pretend I wrote something witty here, okay?
wikkit Since: Sep, 2009
#98: Dec 31st 2015 at 12:34:09 AM

Seija was never the biggest fan of physically fighting. Convincing others to do that for you was much easier, after all. Her distaste only grew as a thick leather boot suddenly appeared on her face, with a great deal of force behind it. She didn't get to see who planted the offending footwear, but she had a good guess.

Both her Miracle Mallet, suddenly ripped from her grasp by an inexplicable force, and her top hat both were separated from her as she spiraled down into the mud. The amanojaku's head spun as she tried to recollect herself, the blow rattling her brain. She tried to keep her head still as she lay on the ground, the pain dazing her even more. She hocked a deal of blood from her mouth spat it out, along with what was most likely one of her pointed teeth. They grow back quickly enough, she couldn't care less. What thoughts she could gather were centered on survival, and ensuring that meant taking care of her enemy. She relied on the one thing her ever-changing mood would agree that she was good at: thinking on her feet.

She though of the many fights in her life, and the people in them, until one specifically rang a bell. The Shining Needle Incident. The white haired one. Her movement, disappearing and just about everything was just like this! This could only mean...

"...time, time, TIME!" she managed to spit out, hopefully loud enough for her less-impaired fellow agents to hear. "He controls time!"

OG-Sama Mancunian Candidate Since: Jan, 2015 Relationship Status: I get a feeling so complicated...
Mancunian Candidate
#99: Dec 31st 2015 at 7:30:21 PM

Bester frowns, trying to make sense of what's going on. There's a fight happening, that much he can tell, flavours of anger and fear vastly different to anything swirling around the civilian population, but there's no way of knowing how it's going. There's something new in there, too, a self-assuredness spreading from its primary carrier to everyone else. A rousing speech, maybe, or some kind of psychic suggestion. It's like working a crime scene based solely on the condition of the room next to it.

His best guess, such as it is; Vergil didn't listen. This is, by this point in the proceedings, a bankable statement. There's another Roswel-

At this point, two things happen. Mr. Cage blocks a punch from a man so Cockney he barely understands himself, signalling the end of negotiations. This does not matter. The disappearing man reappears, laughing maniacally, and incites the crowds to bloody revolution.

This matters, and matters a lot. Quantitatively, this is three Roswells. Maybe two-and-a-half, accounting for the lack of federal government.

He feels the mood shift, perhaps a half-second before all eyes turn their way and everyone else catches up, and sends his hand down to retrieve a pistol he isn't carrying. Then, under his breath, he swears as mildly as humanly possible.

It's at this point one of Seija's pointed teeth lands on his right shoe, despite how quickly he's back-pedalling, and he realises how far they've all sailed up shit creek. Time, time, TIME. Five Roswells and counting.

"Rich kid?" he says, cutting through the din of the crowd with not much more than a calm murmur. "I think Shiftman would appreciate a... a royal interjection, if you'd oblige?"

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