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It was at 8:02 PM, June 15th that Mayor Hercule, former wrestler turned political leader of one of the largest metropolises in the world, arrived to a decently sized crowd packed into the steps around City Hall that evening to deliver a speech. The topic was the success of the initial wave of the New Vigilante Support Bill, which saw immediate effects in cleaning up the streets and bringing many new heroes into Emerald City. He also spoke on the legacy of his predecessor, whose 53rd birthday would've been a week ago had he lived, and how he felt that he was already working to ensure that nobody would have to live with the same fate.
His speech concluded, a firm but not wild round of applause from the crowd erupted, and the Mayor stepped off the podium...and nothing happened. Against all expectations, nothing occurred that would interrupt or halt the event. No villains swooping out from nowhere and kidnapping people, no bomb discovered underneath the port-a-potty, no high speed chase barreling past, no one hijacking the microphone to declare their new world order or anything. All of that security ultimately went to waste, as absolutely nothing bad happened.
There, at least.
Traffic was letting up at a rare moment in the dinner rush, this armored car suddenly able to move in any speed other than bumper-to-bumper. Pulling down the road at speed, their cargo too precious to risk going any faster than the speed limit, they'd get a good long ways towards their goal...
...before EVIL struck!
The armed guards at the driver's seat were mostly bored out of their skull, listening to smooth jazz as the day slowly turned to night. Their conversation started to drift away from celebrities and toward more philosophical affairs when they heard a thump on the roof.
This was kind of spooky in-and-of itself, but the extra two thumps from the back made the man on the passenger's side door take a look at his rear-view mirror.
In the dying light of sunset, shaded by the towering buildings all around them, dozens of pairs of iridescent eyes stared right back at him!
He immediately took his sidearm and wildly fired at his pursuers, only managing to scare the stuck-in-awe populace as they could only gaze helplessly at this bizarre procession!
Well over a quarter-hundred men could be seen at that time, wearing day-glo outfits marked with various insectoid insignia, racing along the empty street and keeping pace with the accelerating truck with their radical rollerbladed feet! Each one wearing a pair of goggles in the shape of an insect's eye, and a helmet with some plastic tubes or metal wire sticking out from the top, it couldn't be more obvious who these people were: the Bug Gang!
A couple more hooks shot forth and grappled into the back of the van, and those who already were attached began to make their way to disable it or enter the truck's hold. All hope seemed lost, as their numbers only could swell with each passing moment...could no one appear to aid them in their time of need?!
A capacity crowd filled the park, with standing room only anywhere where you could reasonably see the artists on stage. Thousands of people from all over the city, the state, the world had arrived here to listen to the hottest new acts in the "indie", "mumblecore", "single person with ukulele" and "artists who can sing but don't look good enough to make a debut in a mainstream record label" genres. Right now, on stage, some guys that you've never heard of and never will because they're that obscure are finishing up their set as the evening sunlight pouring into the park begins to dim.
Most people here are enjoying themselves, the music being kind of hard to make out with all the mumbling going on over it, but it's of little concern as most people are pretty well stoned. There's nothing short of free love and marijuana being passed around the attendees, and times are good. Such things allow people to forget the vagaries of life, and become as another person for once in a while.
Though hard at first to recognize in the sunset, a thin, golden air arced over the stage and landed in the crowd, by one of the local hideously-overpriced-event-coffee stands.
It would be impossible to describe what they experienced as they inhaled that dust, as practically every pair of eyes saw something different. However, looking at the way they reacted, it was pretty obvious that everyone effected was tripping balls. Luckily, most of the crowd was oblivious to their sudden spasming and flailing on the ground, as the next act appeared in the sky above.
Up high above the stage, floating through the air holding onto the stem of a white-topped fungus the size of a light pole, was an odd lady◊ who seemed overjoyed to be there as she twirled in the air. The crowd stopped what they were doing and the artists soon after once they realized everyone wasn't staring at them. A few hundred photos were snapped in this time span, and the place grew quiet enough for her to shout down to her captive audience.
"Hey, everyone! It's me, Puff-Puff Patty the Phantastic Phungi Pal," Puff-Puff Patty the Phantastic Phungi Pal said, "and I just want you to hear me out for a bit. Y'all feeling good tonight?"
A couple confused "yeah"s and "sure i guess"es could be heard down below.
"I can't hear you!"
A brave man in the crowd shouted for her to be quiet and to perform her weird Alice in Wonderland schtick somewhere else, as he didn't pay 200 dollars for this.
"I heard that guy, but what about the rest of ya? You wanna feel good tonight?!"
Someone threw a croissant in her direction.
As Puff-Puff Patty the Phantastic Phungi Pal slowly floated over the packed crowd, a thin golden veil seemed to pour out from underneath the mushroom's cap, right now landing backstage and on the roof of the stage, but threatening to blanket the crowd at any moment should she move forward! She seemed content to laze around, though the guy throwing croissants at her was getting on her nerves.
There was already a record crowd at the front gates, and the first few tour groups were already making their way through the marble floors and high pillars of the fancy-ass establishment. Somewhere near the edge of Downtown and Duwamish, the museum promised to educate the masses on the world far removed from Washington State. On the exterior, banners flew that read:
Come see the long lost treasures of King Huni, ruler of Egypt from 2637-2613 BC! Exclusively on opening day, come and meet the legendary explorer and archeologist who made this unprecedented discovery, Iowa Jones!
It was apparent to everyone with half a brain cell that quite a bit of time and money had been put into this exhibit. Thus, it came as a surprise to few when the call for heroic security was made for this opening day event. And so, our hired heroes would find themselves in the main exhibit hall, about as large as a football field, and about 2 stories tall, with all of the generic Egyptian decorations you can ever think of, and smack dab in the center, a coffin that proclaimed to hold the real, actual body of King Huni.
There were 4 doors in the room, a large set of double doors at the front that led to the museum entrance, two doors at the left and right that led to other parts of the museum, and a door in the back marked "Employees only". There were several windows around the upper part of the room, as well as a large skylight that extended across most of the roof, one which currently had bright lights shining through it at strategically placed points since skylights don't do you much good at 8:02 PM.
In front of this tomb, a very enthusiastic young lady was proudly talking about the exhibit to a group of children. Next to her was the legendary Iowa Jones, who was dressed exactly how you think he is. He was busy giving dirty glares at one of the hired hero security, Reinhart, who was clearly getting far more attention from visitors, with many people pointing him out and more then a few approaching him to ask for an autograph.
As for what the stalwart supers doing? They're around somewhere in the room, be it as a guest, guard, contractor fixing something, whatever works to get them in the room.
A lightbulb, having remained dormant for the past twenty years once the owner of the warehouse finally closed shop, struggled to burn. It flickered and strained, only managing to bring the room into light after some time.
The backroom of the former business, having remained virtually untouched since the previous establishment's hasty departure, showed its age through the dirt. A corded phone sat underneath a pile of yellowed reports of failing business, and that sat under a thick layer of dust. The windows were intact, though opaque with mildew, and the one remaining chair was being sat in by Chun Xiubai of the Songshu Hao Pengyou.
He, his few dozen burly men all clad in black jackets with their fancy green emblems, and the numerous knives, staves, sticks, firearms and menacing looking things in general in their hands were all situated in a semicircle around three men who seemed almost naked in comparison with their light armaments. In this flickering light, Xiubai's rounded features and slight smile were hidden.
His status as a leader of the Songshu Hao Pengyou was on the rocks. Numerous poor decisions, undertakings foiled by rival outfits and men in gaudy outfits, and the failed investment in the Ethanol business some years ago had dangled him above a pit of death. If it weren't for his brother's intervention, he certainly would have died!
But, tonight might save his hide. He had heard rumors of a rare, unheard of drug that had barely made it out onto the street in time. Getting in on this before anyone else could was going to prove to be the biggest break of the career! Nothing short of a miracle placed right in front of him!
All Mr. Chun had to do was not screw up talking to the weird guy in the suit and his two underlings. Really, that was the only thing that bothered him...why was he so comfortable with this?
Oh well. Time to get to work.
"So, Mister Seed...if you would run it by me one more time, friend, what exactly is it that your Bliss does? Why should I make a deal with you over the others promising me something new?"
Outside of the warehouse, two men stood guard with sawn-offs hidden at the waist. They were talking about seasonal anime or something.
"Johannson, table for twoooooooo?"
The true test of courage lay within the lobby of this factory. Crowded, heated and with more people pouring in by the second, the agony of those waiting in line to get a seat was only matched by the overworked, underpaid servers who rushed the moment a butt left their table to find a new one to fill it. For our intrepid heroes, they had waited long enough that their turn might come soon, but at the same time...didn't those guys come here before you?
Yeah, you're pretty sure they came here after you, so why are they getting a table first? Huh? What's the deal here?
You have half a mind to go up and ask the bored, you-can-tell-she-wears-goth-makeup-outside-of-work-because-she-didn't-clean-it-off-well-enough waitress at the front desk what the deal is, but good sense tells you to wait and not provoke the collective wrath of the seating gods.
Only God's provenance will allow thee to get a seat before the Happy Hour prices run out.
Edited by wikkit on Jul 28th 2019 at 3:37:16 AM
With another day's work at her antique shop wrapped up, it was time for Medusa to start her night shift, prowling the rooftops of Downtown Emerald City. There was, of course, another hour and eight minutes until sunset, so the whole 'night' thing was more figurative than literal.
Summer hours, she supposed.
Still, like clockwork, as she walked the rooftops of the city, eyes closed and ears open, there was the familiar, telltale sound of crime no more than a minute later at precisely 8:02. A truck by the sounds of it, and a group of troublemakers on wheels. Rollerskates... no, rollerblades.
She went over to the edge of the rooftop, waited until the truck and most of its assailants were past, and then leisurely threw herself from the building to the street below.
Not quite the street, though, as she dived down towards one of the last rollerbladers going by, dropping into him with the assistance of that old friend, gravity. And her shoulder.
Edited by nman on Jul 28th 2019 at 3:41:33 AM
Washington State World Museum
It was a job like always. As one who performed various tasks that risked life and limb for monetary benefits, being hired for such things was old hat at this point. The only new aspect to the guard job was that instead of people who were fragile and of flesh and blood, it was now lifeless objects and relics of bygone civilizations whose value laid in their historical importance.
Also worth noting in this land of 'freedom', it was very frowned upon to actually take care of complications in the most simplest and straightforward of manners and thus... well, that was why he had taken this side job despite knowing that it was so much more troublesome than a simple assassination mission.
Here, he was expected to keep the civilians safe as well as the museum's pieces, with damage to either very much frowned upon. Atop of these complications, possible ne'er-do-wells that might show up were also supposed to come out of it at the very least 'living', so that was yet another handicap atop of everything he was expected to perform. Truly troublesome and impractical to his inner sensibilities, but that was what the employers wanted.
America was not the Middle East and thus not an active warzone where the rules of active combat was much more loose. Considering he was also an illegal immigrant in this land of freedom, it would do to play along so as to avoid overall complications. And thus, almost everything that Kirin had learned was now useless in most cases and counterproductive in others.
Still, at the very least it made for a good training exercise. All senses were on high alert for possible altercations: the eyes swept the area, the ears remained ready to pick out disturbances, the nose scented the air for possible traces of drugs or chemicals. Even his sixth sense was active, ready to react to possible 'bloodlust'. Quiet, aloof, and cross-armed, the stoic young man all but stood as stock still as the pieces of art he was supposed to safeguard.
Every now and then the more enterprising museum-goers would slowly amble towards the youth, either thinking him a part of the exhibit due to his eclectic old-fashioned garments or intending to ask him their various inane questions... only to recoil back when his eyes shifted to fix them with an unamused glare that drove all such curiosity away with how sharp his gaze was.
Ryo Saeba - Catch The Rainbow Festival
A young japanese man was amongst the attendance for various reasons. It was in part to fulfill his curiosity about how a gathering themed around indie music would look like. A smaller reason was that the attendance fee was ridiculously cheap compared to mainstream concerts. But the main reason was that both fan and artists belonging to that genre of music tended to be lightly dressed and not too hung up on social niceties, which means the man, whose name was Ryo Saeba, had a not insignificant chance of getting lucky with a hot woman here!
And for those reason, the totally harmless playboy was now in the crowd watching some guys he's never heard off before singing on the stage. He didn't want touch any of the stuff that a good number of them were exchanging. He had certain reason to dislike drugs, even the harmless ones. He was about to begin his 'hunt' when he noticed the golden dust that was making people tripping balls. That wasn't normal.
He looked up to see who was talking in the sky and was very impressed by what he saw. Tough the flying woman had a very odd costume and name, she also was a bombshell wearing a very revealing ouftit, which earned Ryo's mark of approval! But that woman was also spreading some weird drug in the place, and while he had nothing against people voluntary getting shitfaced, his pride couldn't let him just watch them being drugged against their will (well, those who weren't already, at least). Even if he would very much like to do something with Patty that was very different from fighting. And he couldn't very well shoot down the mushroom the beauty was flying on.
So, he took the action which would hopefully both satisfy his lust and his desire to stop her. He loudly called to her. "Heeey, Patty! I want to feel good very much, but I have another idea for that! How about you descend here and we can both make each other feel real good?" There it goes, either she would miraculously react well to his advances, or this would provoke her into descending to punish him for his insolent remarks. Either way, this would give him an opportunity to stop her.
My arrival in Emerald City passes without incident. The only ones who seem to pay me a second glance are those curious about Pod and a few staring at my outfit. Indeed, this arrival seems to have gone almost too well. But not all is good news. Pod's scanning of the global network, known as "The Internet", has determined that no trace of anything like us could be found on this planet.
He is quick to assure me that this does not mean they do not exist, and reminds me that he can only check public, non-secured sources of information. But as I look on this city, I can already feel hope draining. Nothing I have seen comes close to the kind of technology level that was clearly involved in my construction. To them, Androids, and even AI as a whole are nothing more then an idea, a fiction, a child's fantasy. No, I have no confidence that we will find anything related to my creators, whoever they may be.
And as for these "Humans", they are not like us. Weak, mortal beings, bound by the string of time, made of flesh and blood, acting on nothing but whim and wimsy. They fight, in the absence of outside threats, with each other. Some care nothing for their fellow human, willingly preforming all manner of reprehensible acts for their own self gain. "Defective Units" is the term Pod likes to use, although humans have their own words for such people, just as they do the people who stand up to stop them. Not soldiers, no, private citizens, people who have nothing to gain, and everything to lose by making such a stand.
But be they "Hero", "Villain", or just a normal civilian, they at least understand their place in this world, regardless of how illogical their actions may be. But what of me? Why am I here? I know, at least, what it is I want. To discover where I came from, what I was meant to do. But it is rapidly becoming clear that such thoughts are out of my reach.
And so I am here, adrift in this endless sea, surrounded by a strange world and stranger beings. Will this be a new beginning, a chance to live another life? Or will I simply find myself trapped in a never ending spiral of life and death? Do I even have the right to have such thoughts? These humans, they can decide their fate, they were not built for a purpose. But I am not like them. I was built for a reason. And if I ignore that, then what reason do I have to exist?
The answers don't come, and after a time, I resolve to try to put these thoughts behind me, for now, and focus on the present. I had only intended to make a brief stop here, at this city, before continuing onward. Yet….I find myself hesitating. These people are not like me, and I am not like them. But they have found the answers that I lack. And so logic dictates that I remain, for a time, at least, and observe. Perhaps I will find the answers in this way. But....it is more then just mere logic, keeping me here. For some reason, something inside me feels...drawn to these humans. Were I to ask a human, they'd probably claim it was my heart, but that is not something I have. Still, I have no better ideas. For now, I will indulge these mysterious feelings, and see where they take me.
2B was sitting outside of a cafe, drinking from a glass. She took a moment to mull over the taste.
"This tea is......acceptable."
They'd given her weird looks, not that she understood why until Pod informed her that apparently ordering tea at 8 PM was not common. But it's not like time had a real meaning to someone like her. She put the glass down as she heard a sound.
Gunfire detected in the vicinity. Hypothesis-Defective units are launching an attack.
"Is that so?" She didn't look too concerned, although given the blindfold that covered most of her face, this was hard to determine.
Proposal-Unit 2B should intervene. It will allow you to readjust to your body and gain combat experience, as well as garner the goodwill of the local population.
She mulled over this for a moment as the armored truck turned the corner and rapidly approached her position. No one could see her eyebrow raise as she saw the dudes on rollerblades and dressed in bright lights following.
She just nodded.
Marking position of enemy forces on map. Commencing keyword search to determine probable route of allied unit.
What this meant is Pod was now looking at the name on the side of the truck and googling it to see where the nearest facility that shared its name was, and then scanning routes to figure out what the most expedient way to get to said place was. If he found none, or they were far away, he would shift his focus to local police stations and banks, and try his best to guess at where they were going. As he did this, he would try to scan for local open frequencies. Perhaps the truck or the men on it had a radio that he could call them over.
Proposal-Unit 2B should avoid the use of lethal force in this encounter. Humans look poorly on unnecessary death, and lethal force should not be required against foes such as these.
2B, meanwhile, stood stoically as the truck passed by, and the first wave of attackers as well. She waited until the back row of them were passing, then started running. She turned, moving behind them and rapidly speeding up. They were on rollerblades, confined by streets, she wouldn't have too much difficulty catching up, she anticipated. Her sword appeared in her hand as she neared the one closest to the back, and she prepared to swing with the blunt end of it.
Then some masked woman leaped from the roof and attacked him. Considering how out there and random this was, she didn't seem to react much to it. She just stared for a moment as she continued to run, then turned her attention to the next one ahead, and swung the blunt end of her sword at his legs, aiming to trip him up and send him falling to the ground. He'd take some scrapes and bruises, but unless he had the constitution of a child, he'd probably survive. She would continue to advance in this manner, rapidly catching up to the truck.
No matter how much the criminals and scum of this place shower, the smell of blood is stuck in them for the rest of their lives.
His hunts in Ironhouse District and Capitol Hill eventually led him to a whistleblower who told him that a important deal would be done between the Songshu Hao Pengyou gang and a unknown party in a abandoned warehouse nearby. While the traitor didn't gave much details of what the arrangement would involve before he gutted him apart, Warwick knew it was nothing good. Weapons to strenghten their power, drugs to sell to the clueless and the innocent so they're stuck in a vicious cycle of addiction and forced to buy from this scum?
Whatever it is, these criminals must pay with their blood, before they spill the blood of the innocent.
As he leaped to the rooftops of the buildings of Ironhouse District, he eventually found the warehouse with the same description the thug gave to him. He dropped to a alleyway that leaded out to the streets, landing on all fours.
He crawled silently in all fours in the alleyway that lead to the warehouse. He would come to a stop near the corner of a wall, peeking his head out and examining his prey who guarded the warehouse entrance. Two scum guarding the entrance, weapons hidden. His large bat-like ears picked up what they were saying....but it was useless garbage.
Just like them.
He waited for the perfect time they were distracted. A hunter bides his time before ripping his prey apart.
A scar-faced man with a mullet and nice mutton chops is waiting in line for a table. Must these unenlightened ones take their sweet time with registering their tables? Curtis Knox has no time to dilly-dally. He must have that savory cheese-cake! Oh, just thinking about it just makes this totally-not-a-caveman hungry for that good stuff!
Curtis glances at his fellow line-goers. Let's hope they weren't as quirky as those pesky superheroes that were rumored to run this very city. Curtis abhors that they get to keep the status quo calcified. True progress lies within chaos in Curtis's opinion. War and destruction causes mankind to come up with solutions to overcome it easily. If he had the clout, he'd create a top-secret organization to make that reality. But sadly, he has to start from scratch.
He asks the others, “What brings you out here?”
Edited by josh6243 on Jul 28th 2019 at 4:02:10 AM
Joseph Seed had his hands clasped. He turned over to his right to look at his older brother Jacob, who proudly stood by his side, arms crossed, then over to his left to glance at Dr. Feeney, the disgraced pharmacist who was now a part of the growing Seed family.
Joseph thought to himself, while Jacob stood tall and proud, and Feeney walked out of the room to make sure nobody was messing with his chemical concoctions.
No situation more than now illustrated just how severe the situation in the world was. The modern soul suffers stress with a sense of urgency that encourages pragmatism over reason, dulls their awareness and acknowledgement of morals, and ultimately, drives them into to a life of sin. Mr. Chun was no exception. Chun and his brethren had left their homes and families, many countries and continents away, possibly in search of a better life. They must have fallen so far to become a criminal fraternity, fending for themselves on the streets, living the miserable existence they tried to avoid in their homeland. This was just one little tiny microcosm by itself, but everything Joseph laid eyes on, he could see each and every symptom of the sickness that had infected the universe.
Joseph realized he had been quiet for too long.
"Mr. Chun, the Bliss is no ordinary... psychedelic. It is pure liquid, a work of chemistry and horticulture in unison. Your customers need not have to worry about needles or other accessories. The Bliss can be enjoyed like a stiff drink, or inhaled in vapors. One can even bathe in it."
Joseph Seed smirked, but not too hard. "As for what's in store for those who experience the Bliss, well, it's not a thing I can describe fully, it's just somethin' you need to try for yourself. Oh, but a businessman in your position should never enjoy what he sells, am I correct?"
"The Bliss allows one to see the world in a state that the naked eye would never fathom, but it's so much more than a simple molecular reaction in the brain. It can let one view God's creation in His intended vision, and look upon themselves for who they are. It carries the soul out of the body, away from physical limitations and mental constructs. Such an experience cannot be found in any other product your competitors are distrubtin'."
Jacob Seed turned to look his younger brother in the eye, which prompted Joseph to speak once more. "Mr. Chun, I think we both agreed on 140,000 dollars. 70,000 right now, and another 70,000 when you are pleased with the results."
Edited by TailsDoll on Jul 28th 2019 at 6:02:59 AM
The Bug Gang may have thought themselves kings of speed this night, but unbeknownst to them, there was a new challenger in town, one that would not take this crime in progress lying down. Even as their numbers swelled and threatened to overwhelm the armored truck, anybody far enough back would hear the roaring of an engine, and would then bear witness as a racing car surged past them; miles there were to go, but it was gaining, and fast...
"Welcome to Emerald City. Be sure to gather all your belongings as you disembark, and thank you again for choosing Platinum Airlines." Hearing this over the intercom on the plane, one of the passengers rose from her seat in First Class, and yawned as she stretched her legs, before joining the rest of the passengers in exiting the plane. Wearing dark sunglasses and her usual attire of a magenta shirt and blue shorts, the passenger looked like just your average tourist on vacation, but as she exited the airport interior and stepped into a waiting car, the woman was able to remove her sunglasses as she slid into the driver's seat. Looking up at the rear view mirror, and seeing a pair of vivid green eyes on a furred face staring back at her, Tawna allowed herself a smile as she hit the road.
Now hot on the tail of a swarm of thugs after an armored truck, Tawna kept her finger on the eject button as she casually began gaining on the truck, and the thugs trying their best to disable and loot it. It was then that a voice 'helpfully' chimed into her ear.
"Eyes up, Tawna! You're not the only hero out tonight!"
Looking up, Tawna could indeed see that a purple haired woman was on the road ahead, and further up, there was a white haired woman...running towards the truck. Priority set on the purple haired vigilante for now, Tawna came to a drifting stop just next to her, engine still going and ready to punch it as soon as Tawna hit the gas again; the passenger door opened next to Medusa, and in the driver's seat, she could see Tawna in her Nitro Suit, an amused smile on her face as she spoke.
"Need a lift?"
this post has been deleted.
Edited by Tigergrimm on Jul 28th 2019 at 2:24:15 AM
Emerald City, Washington, USA, North America, Earth. A city of wonder and excitement, a place of marvels and detective work, a land where four incredible, earth-shattering, eye-popping events of pure adrenaline can crop up at once...and none of them are happening at this spot of town. But there'll be plenty of time for action later, so let us turn our attention to that landmark of America...
In amongst the hustle and bustle of the crowd, we find a young man waiting patiently in line. A very ordinary young man...or so it may seem. He is possessed of a gangly build, with a mop of brown hair, a large pair of glasses, and a t-shirt-jacket-shorts-sneakers combo he hasn't seen fit to alter in three years. This is Dexter Douglas, a nineteen-year-old freshman, studying Computers for Math and Science at Emerald University, and currently regretting everything in his life as he waits in line for a decent meal.
"Oh brother," he mutters, "I knew I should've tried Costa Lotta." Part of him considers stepping out of line, and using his 'other' half to secure his rightful place at the front. Another part feels perhaps that might bring more trouble than its worth. But whatever plan young Dexter lands upon will have to wait, for at that moment, he hears the call of destiny...or something far darker, and shorter to boot.
Dexter glances around, noticing only now the stocky, scarred man behind him. Timid and confused, Dexter points to himself, unable to quite believe that a stranger in a line, and one so intimidating at that, would want to strike up a pleasant conversation with him of all folks. Still, a moment or two later, Dexter at last finds his voice. "Uuuhhhh..." he goes, as he takes a moment to find his words next. "...I guess I wondered what the flatbread pizzas were like. Maybe it'd be quicker to go for a glamburger or something."
Edited by LizardOfAus on Jul 28th 2019 at 12:13:54 PM
Some more conservative adults might say that 8PM was a little too late for a girl Erika's age to be out walking the streets by herself. She would obviously counter my mentioning that when one wakes up at 2PM this is practically morning still. She was never one for a regular sleeping schedule. Normally, she would be locked away in her room, but there was a noticeable shortage of sweets that needed to be remedied. As such, she now found herself carrying a bag of various candies and carbonated concoctions down the sidewalk.
Stopping to wait for the crosswalk to change so she could cross the street, Erika idly popped a piece of gum in her mouth. She scarcely began to chew when she heard a commotion heading her way down the street. In a blur of motion, an armored transport passed the intersection, followed by a whole gaggle of ne'er-do-wells on roller-skates.
Erika knew of them as the Bug Gang, thanks to a police file she..."peaked" at a few nights ago. With how many there were, this probably wasn't going to be something to leave to local law enforcement. As onlookers pushed past each other to see what the hub-bub was, the young lady slipped back out of the crowd and hustled back to her cafe.
Once inside the Dreaming Butterfly, she made a bee-line to her room in the back and shut the door tight. With privacy secured, Erika dropped the bag of sweets and enveloped herself in a pale blue light. Her matter shifted from the physical to the digital as she took on the form of Hudiemon. The digital monster extended her hand to her computer, and extended her will to the screen. Reports and news coverage flickered on to the screen, filling with pages and tabs as the robbery attracted attention. Luckily the live footage told her exactly where they were and what direction they were heading. With a smile her form flickered into pixels that flowed into a port in her system.
This was a wonderful time of convenience we live in. The constant march of technology has connected man in ways that were never thought possible mere decades ago. What this meant for Hudiemon was that she just needed to use the right connections to get where she needed. For example, by using a totally legal connection with police servers, she could then access cameras placed at intersections all over the city.
At the intersection just ahead of the truck and the Bug Gang's attack, the stoplights flickered between green, red, and yellow sporadically for a moment. Then Hudiemon emerged from the camera in a burst of light-blue pixels. She flew right at the truck before delivering a sweeping kick to the Bug Gang members that were starting to make their way on to the truck. To redeem the name of bug-themed heroes everywhere, she was gonna teach these losers a lesson!
As Xiubai set about closing the deal of his career, a shadowy figure was putting the finishing touches on her own project.
There was only the faintest hint of a figure, really, a splotch of shadow cut out from the night sky and tucked away in the lee of an air-conditioning unit. The shadow wasn't just the absence of sickly yellow street-light, it seemed to cling to the figure, slowly boiling and shifting and flowing down the inclined roof like cold fog.
The shadow had a notepad and pencil, and was diligently transcribing everything Xiubai and Joseph Seed were saying.
It had taken Blake Belladonna, AKA Black Cat, a week or so to unravel this little enterprise. A boastful triad grunt, a tip-off from one of her informants in the Jungle, a few nights spent eavesdropping on Songshu Hao Pengyou meetings. It had been enough to figure out where the deal was going to take place, early enough for her to slip a few shadow clones into the warehouse ahead of time. Those clones were laying in wait now, sharp ears perked up and feeding her every detail of what was happening in the manager's office. One had snapped a few pictures with a small digital camera, although she didn't have much hope for the lighting.
A dozen armed gangsters were a little much for her, let alone the Seeds. Without looking up, she generated another clone at her side and handed the pad and pencil over, all so she could tap out a text to her contact in the ECPD without breaking the flow of her eavesdropping* shadow-fingers can't really do much with capacitive touch screens, it turns out. If she got the opportunity, she'd pick the power players off one by one. If not, the police would be on their way, and she'd have a nice package of evidence to give them when the dust settled.
Come on... just give me an opening... She knew which option she would prefer. There was no guarantee that the police would be able to get here in time to stop the handover, and the last thing this city needed was more Bliss on the streets. Maybe it was time to move into a more -
Suddenly, her ears flicked up, the hairs on the back of her neck bristling as her shadow-draped head whipped around. She wasn't even sure what she'd heard - movement nearby? The night was silent now... Something doesn't feel right...
As her clones continued their work, Black Cat shifted from her perch and padded silently over the rooftop, scanning the streets below, the dim light more than enough for her eyes.
Edited by LittleMako on Jul 28th 2019 at 4:39:38 AM
It stopped raining. After a week of that menacing grey sky, the clouds were all but gone! He crawled out of his putrid hovel and turned his eyes to the pink sky of dawn.
This was it. This was the day.
Behold, pathetic humans: the fall of your precious Emerald City!
A few hours later, and the visitors of the new World History Museum might spot a peculiar little creature scurrying around here and there: a rustling in the bushes just outside the facade, a flash of antennae across one of the second story windows, a powerful odor in the Employees office, and one of the tour mics and speakers strangely missing. The brief sightings alone might be imagined, but perhaps some people in the museum had sharper senses than the average Joe.
Whether the hired help sensed something or not, they wouldn't have to worry about rooting any trouble out—trouble came to them.
Waddling through the "Employees Only" door came a tiny blue creature wearing a little red jumpsuit. Something koala-like, judging by the hands, nose, and overall size, but the antennae on his head, the quills on his back, and the extra pair of limbs clearly marked him as an alien. Held in his bottom left hand was one of the small speakers used by the tour guides, and in his top right hand it held the microphone to its jaw.
It wasn't every day you see an adorable alien as your tour guide!
The little guy turned on the little speaker and tried to test the mic at its max volume (must be a new hire, he'll figure it out with some practice). Moving across the room, the tiny tour guide began speaking in a language no one would know, but—judging from his body language and inflection—made it clear that he was politely trying to gather everyone's attention. Was there a special event planned?
With as many eyes on him as he could initially expect, the tour guide toddled over to an exhibit of a golden scarab the size of an adult human fist. The four panes of glass surrounding the exhibit cleanly reflected the taller patrons called over for the tour, but came about three feet short of capturing the little alien.
"Nabugaba?" he asked, in the same polite tone one might say "can you hear me?" Some museum visitors might even deduce what the gibberish meant and nod at the alien.
The tour guide smiled, and nodded back. What a great audience!
So without further ado...ON WITH THE SHOW!
"MEEGA, NALA KWEESTA!!!"
Without even a hope of warning, the little monster chucked the tour speaker straight at the golden scarab, shattering the glass case in a violent crash that echoed throughout the main exhibit. In a moment, the vandal had scurried his way up the case and seized the golden scarab...only to powerfully throw it at another exhibit and shatter its glass case too! From there, he would emit a frightening roar at the museum patrons around him, compelling them to either run for their lives, or face a powerful creature of chaos tossing them aside as it dashed for the next exhibit to destroy.
"Long Lost Treasures," huh? Sounds like some expensive toys just begging to be broken!
The young one had a point. Both the flatbread pizzas and the burger were excellent choices in Curtis's opinion. But the flatbread pizza is a bastardization of the true Italian pizza savored a long time ago. These Americans do not know the true meaning of good pizza. Instead, they choose to prop up their false idols. If Curtis had his way, he'd force them to make the right Italian pizza every day. But that's a story for another time.
The glamburger sounds better, come to think about. It's a pure American dish. In fact, Curtis thinks the burger is the American version of a sandwich. And sandwiches can be customized into many, many forms.
“Hmm... This burger sounds like an excellent dish as well. I'll have one as well.”
Whoops, Curtis almost forgot to introduce himself. This unenlightened child must know the one that will save mankind. But not his true identity of Vandar Adg. He's still unworthy of that privilege.
“I'm Curtis Knox. And who might you be, young one?”
"I was....sight seeing I guess you can say? I've only moved here recently so I've been trying to get used to the area, learn all the major land marks, find the best places to eat. It seems like this place ended up being more crowded than I expected though. Guess the happy hour must have some pretty good bargains with a line this long."
Sento, this dorking looking Japanese man that was also sporting a cowlick, seemed to have brought along what looked like a child's toy, that he was making adjustments too with some screw drivers he had on his person. Apparently his work was engrossing enough that while he could still hold something of a conversation, he never actually looked away from the crossbow looking toy to see who he was holding a conversation with.
Edited by Bcom on Jul 28th 2019 at 8:21:48 AM
A Random Repairman At The Museum
It paid off to be educated, some said.
The previous life of Kazuma Kiryu didn't give him much opportunity to head out into the world. Only now that he was in the second half of his life could he finally make up his mind for it. Not entirely out of his own volition, yes, but circumstances were what they were. Japan was no longer a place he could visit. He left his family in capable hands. Now, one could only hope they wouldn't tangle with the wrong kind of crowd anymore.
And so, Mr. Arata Hajimari simply entertained himself by learning about a long-dead culture, only briefly looking towards the bodyguards protecting the exhibit. The younger one had a familiar look and body language, of someone who could not feel at ease in a secure, sedated environment. A born killer, a fighter to the bitter end. The other one Kiryu had seen in the newspaper; a retired hero from Europe, of truly imposing height and a heart of gold unmarred by his experiences and old age.
Things were shaping up to be relatively painless... at least until a small blue alien strolled in and started indulging in wanton destruction. It was going to be one of those days, wasn't it? It might have sounded strange to someone from this world choke-full of strange powers, but Japanese underworld had but a handful of supers in their ranks (perhaps because they could just end in better places instead). Kiryu was still getting used to the fact that an average thug could sling fire or be made of rock or what not.
While it wasn't his job, Arata Hajimari looked down upon wanton destruction. Idly adjusting the collar of his blue shirt he strolled towards the alien through the terrified crowd of civilians. It seemed the alien was disinterested in hurting anyone, which was good - else they would be talking differently here. The man's face fixed in stern scowl, he reached out to seize the extraterrestrial felon.
"I'm gonna have to ask you to stop right there." He said in an even tone, doubting the little thing would be dissuaded so easily - but one had to give a chance for the opponent to step down nonetheless.
The Cheesecake Factory
Completely ordinary, emerald-eyed and silver-haired Nyaruko "Hoshino" had just lifted her head from browsing the electronic edition of the restaurant's ridiculously long menu to address the question of another long-suffering patron in line, a smile and an answer on her lips. That was when she looked behind the bespectacled teen and the stocky man and saw his face, and the entire world seemed to slow down.
One of Nyaruko's organs went thumpity-thump, while other parts went squishy-squish. The words that had been on the tip of her tongue vanished like morning dew in the sun. Her lips parted, and her breathing quickened. Her palms started to sweat. Her pupils dilated, and everything seemed to become bright, the scene thrown into sharp relief. She would swear she saw sparkles of light in the air around his head. Scarlet color rose to her cheeks. The end of the huge cowlick sticking up from her hair twisted into the shape of a heart.
Then her sweaty fingers fumbled her phone, which went tumbling through the air over the fancy tiled floor and impacted the feet of the very man she was staring at so intently.
Junna Hoshimi- 'Catch The Rainbow' Festival
Junna Hoshimi was several things.
Student 25 of Seisho Music Academy's 99th Graduating Class, said class's representative, an honors student with top scores on her exams, a Stage Girl, among several other things...
The most prevalent thing, at the moment, for Junna was that she was not having a good time at all.
It's not that the event was soulless and fully without merit, mind you, although the droning of what has been told to her as "mumble rap" is definitely not painting the genre a good picture for her. It's good to get new experiences when you get forc- er, go to another foreign country, and have an open mind when you do so. Of course, the difficulty in actually hearing much from her isolated area in the back of the venue made the experience moot. Not helping matters was how uncomfortable she was. She was expecting this music festival to be, well, focused on music, but she been offered "the good stuff"... how many times now? More than she ever has, probably. The fact this was still going on and not shut down honestly baffled her.
So, why was she still here? Obligation, probably. She spent both money (school-granted, she'll give you, but it was the principle of the matter) and time to get here, so why shouldn't she stay? It would be a waste of both, not to mention rude. Still, though, she was near her limit... she checked her phone, wanting to see if anything needed her attention, and provide a much-needed distraction.
It's when she looked up that she saw gold... confetti? No, dust. Lot's of it. And it's making people act even more unruly than they were already. It soon became apparent that this was the work of... Puff Puff Patty, she was not going to use the full name, a... girl in a mushroom costume? Mushroom girl? Well, whatever she was, she could safely say she was feeling anything but good today. Honestly, it just served as a reminder just how odd the last several months have been for her.
And now some man was wanting to seduce the mushroom girl... girl mushroom... person. Great. Junna took the time to analyze the situation. Was the mushroom producing the dust? and what was around her? If worse comes to worse, she might have to shoot her down, but she didn't want to kill her. Not only did she not want to take a life if she can avoid it, but getting on the bad side of the Vigilante Support Bill was a surefire way to get sent back and expelled and then... well, she didn't want to think about it. Of course, that if she can make a shot in the first place... though she may have just the tool for that.
Deescalating seems to be the best idea for now. Though, that required breaking through the crowd... which she gave a shot, trying to approach the stage, apologizing to the crowd all the while.
Edited by Boomer75 on Jul 28th 2019 at 9:54:05 AM
-An elderly woman in faded green clothes moves through the outer layers of assembled hippies, her eyes staring dead ahead and yet deftly avoiding every sprawled-out concertgoer. Suddenly she stops, and turns to where the hallucinogenic people are beginning to twitch. Sighing wearily, she moves with purpose towards the stage, stopping short of the circle of spastic bodies. Then she draws a white cane from behind her and uses it to poke someone whose heartbeat is fast enough not to be stoned out of her mind but not enough to be one of the afflicted, and more importantly, still standing, walking towards the epicenter.-
Young lady, what is going on?
Edited by Chabal2 on Jul 28th 2019 at 7:53:01 PM
Godzilla stood on the rooftop of a nearby building, her spines and long reptilian tail glowing blue in the darkness. The information she got about her targets was sparse, but that wasn’t really a big deal. She was an engine of destruction created by arrogant humans who created a horrific weapon that should have never been. She needed little provocation to destroy, but it helped that the people assembled here were of especially ill repute. That always made her rampages a bit easier.
Wait, was someone else there? She didn’t see anything, but could’ve sworn she heard someone closeby. Well, what did that matter? She was Godzilla – what was some interloper going to do? Scream and hide? In any case, the two guards in front of the entrance seemed like sitting ducks. They had probably dealt with supers before, but had they dealt with any as straight up balls to the wall crazy and full of wrath as her? Doubtful.
The stage was set for the Queen of the Monster’s grand entrance. With a running start, she sprinted and leaped off the rooftop, and was now practically flying through the air towards her targets. In midair, she suddenly grew in size until she was 20 feet tall. With her increased mass, it was clear she intended to crush the two guards at the entrance, along with possibly the entrance itself.
She roared her greeting aloud as she prepared to crash into her prey.
Warwick noticed a...smell. A different smell. Not contaminated. Not dirty.. it smelled different. And it came from the rooftops near him. Was it an innocent?
Blake would notice a large 7 feet tall werewolf-like creature with machinery implanted on his arms and back staring at her. It didn't do anything to her, but just...stare. A superhero. In his time operating in the streets of Ironhouse District and Capitol Hill, this is the first time he meets one. Eventually, it growled and spoke to her.
"Hero...go away. These streets are my hunting grounds, and jail is too good for animals like the-"
His ears immediately rose up as he heard a yell and some kind of...strange lizard-woman coming out of nowhere, increasing to a large size and attempting to crush the gate guards and the entrance itself.
...Guess bloodshed is coming sooner than he expected. Good.
The Chimera letted out a loud howl that would be heard by everybody, especially those inside the warehouse. He came out of the corner of the alleyway running on all fours, making his way for the warehouse. If any of the guards somehow managed to survive the stampede of Godzilla, he would make them his targets and pounce one of them with a large leap, intending to tackle them down to the ground with his strenght. If he was successful, he would ready his claws, and start tearing apart the unfortunate criminal. Otherwise, if none of the guards survived, he would continue his way to the warehouse, ready to stop the deal happening there.
Hence, the watchful gaze of the Iron Crusader stands ready, vigilant against all that is evil and criminal within the City. He had arrived in Emerald City to answer its call for help, and help he did, trusty armor and hammer on hand.
Today was no different than any other days that he'd served on the frontlines, having been called upon with the task of guarding the sacred relics lied within so that all others. And thus, here he stands, as the bulwark against those that threatened to besmirch the display.
... Or, well, he was supposed to. Yet the visitors and his fans were so enamored with him and, not wanting to disappoint, he indulged them, much to the explorer's dismay.
"Hahaha! There there, line up properly everyone! Only villains cut in lines!" he declared thusly, undeterred by the fact that what was supposed to be a museum tour had now been partially converted to a meet-and-shake, autograph session with the resident Crusader. You would think that his giant frame and steely digits would make it difficult for him to write his signature, yet maybe due to fact that he's probably used to this in the past, he deftly picked up a pen and uses it without much trouble, resulting in a comical sight of a seven-foot-tall heavy soldier signing for an elementary school kid.
"You should try this out too, my friend! As Heroes, our duty is not only to defend, but also, to inspire!" he spoke to his grumpy grump co-worker(Cannon Dancer) after seeing him deter people away from him with a glare and laughed. He'll get around eventually.
It was in that unfortunate moment that the tranquility was disturbed by a blue rascal wrecking the displays and causing general mayhem. The nerve! And right now, he's throwing things around to break even more priceless artifacts!
"Not so fast, you fiend!"
Activating the rocket boosters behind his suit, the several ton armored warrior accelerated for a brief moment towards the area where 626 is throwing at before his two heavy boots landed with an audible thud(resulting in a few nearby delicate vase to shake slightly before eventually stopping) and skidded through the floor; turning around and swiftly activating his Barrier Shield at the direction of his blue adversary.
And thus, the artifacts directly behind Reinhardt was spared from the terrible onslaught of the unknown alien by a wall of blue energy shield, with the artifacts being thrown at colliding harmlessly against it!
... That still doesn't stop already thrown artifacts from being broken nor would it stop the attacker from just throwing stuff at other fragile artifacts not protected by a thickass wall of energy, but it was a start!
Edited by JustSomeGuy732 on Jul 29th 2019 at 11:17:49 PM
At the poke, she turned her head to meet an elderly lady. Perhaps she was another concert-goer? Either way, she seemed a bit confused, so Junna stopped where she stood, and tried to explain the situation the best way she can.
"Well, I think that Mushroom Girl up there is spreading some sort of hallucinogenic spore, and wants to give it to everyone in the audience. It's a good time, apparently." She barely hid her distate behind the last statement. "I wouldn't go up to her, if I were you. It might be dangerous."
Hopefully, she should have a handle on this situation soon.
At first, people just stared at the weird little freak. A few kids seemed to think he was funny, and were pointing and laughing. Then he started his rampage, and people started screaming.
Some ran for the exits. Some took cover and crouched, hiding. More then a few pulled out smartphones and started recording, paticularly when Reinheart started defending the area. Somewhere in the center of the room, a lone 10 year old stood alone, looking up at the ceiling and crying at the top of his lungs.
Somewher near the tomb, the overly enthusiastic tour guide who had been leading the lastest group poked Iowa Jones.
"Dr Jones! You have to do something!"
"What!?" He looked shocked by the idea. "But.....that's what they're paying the heroes for!"
"You're a legendary explorer, famed for your exploits against all manner of beasts! Are you telling me you're just going to sit on the sidelines while they need help!?"
Looking very unsure, he stepped forward.
"Foul beast! I am Iowa Jones!" He yelled, trying to hype himself up as he pulled a whip out. "Now, back! Back to the black pit you crawled out of!"
He swung his whip backward.....and managed to strike himself in the face with his own whip, in front of at least a dozen recording smartphones, creating an instant meme. Even the child who had been crying was now laughing at the silly hated man.
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