My Superhero City: Brand New Day

Saviorverse-Prophet-(53)-Fighting Style copied: Art of Five Limbs-Meta-abilities copied: In a Breath

Using his copied mastery of the style stolen from the ratwoman Prophet dodged out of the way of Wilma's blade, throwing up a static barrier to clash against her blade as he positioned himself away from her strike. Just getting a taste of the full scope of her ability was giving him a headache, so he discarded the actually ability and just drunk in the knowledge that she had gained from practice. A lot of mental focus and unfocus, dividing of attention, a rather solid powerset, but it left so much open. "Interesting, not useful mind you, but interesting." his eyes filled with static as his teeth sharpened in his mouth. "All of that power banked on a sense of unearned self belief. But lets try something else."

With a flicker of superspeed from In a Breath and a nice even boost from the psychic ability stolen from Cole Prophet moved at an almost impossible speed appearing next to Wilma and sending a burst of static energy toward her, knowing that she would use her blade or imagined armor to block the damage. Which was exactly what he wanted. "Your skills are unique, splitting a mind like that across variables. But its missing the obvious solution,"

Wilma's Internal Reality-???

"Have more then one mind to start with!" a tall and thin man appeared amongst the storybook like paper landscape, dressed in garish yellows that seemed to practically bleed off their suit. "Your powers are pulled from one area, meaning that anyone can hop a free ride to town with enough knowledge and elbow grease, and once here the mind begins to wander," the figure removed a large top hat, spilling out multicolored hair that began to drip like water onto the paper, spreading out in wild and mad colors spawning more copies of the figure.

"You don't kill a brave and noble knight with magic, swords, or monsters. You fill them with plague until they go insane." their voices rang out as one. "Even if its a one night show with a fake body lets make tonight something to remember, its the return nobody wanted, asked for, or cared about!" if unstopped the corruption would spread and infect every inch of Wilma's reality, tainting it with a mad house reflection.

???->Renegade Shadowcopy

Back outside with Prophet

"Its been awhile since I've had to burn Sin Eater that much, but its worth it to get that voice out of my head." he turned back to the others challenging him. "Thankfully, I can more then compensate." he could feel so many things around him, fear, anger, pain, confusion. Even that ambient energy fed back into Sin Eater. "Who else wants to see their strategies and hopes fail, or maybe you would rather surrender?"

Wilma (3)

Wilma's eyes rolled up in her head as her mind filled with static and she went flying from the blast (even though she had managed to block it with her SWORD). She crashed to the ground and went still, Inspiration fizzling out like a weak flame, eyes slowly going glassy and filling with static.

If anyone was observing, it looked like she was dying.

But—!

There was yet one—one—hope.

Wilma —> Internal Reality

Time dilation in dreams was odd. She could be in her Internal Reality for an hour, and only mere seconds would pass outside. So she at least had time to figure this little problem out.

"How would any author get any works out, if they didn't have a misplaced sense of self-worth? They wouldn't have the gall to publish anything, honestly!" Wilma said, as she strode to the area of the infection. "Hello, Renegade, I've heard of you."

"The problem with plagues is that defenses can evolve. But I don't have enough time, even in the Dreamlands, to do such a thing. You...well, I agree—it's such a tragedy to let your madness go to waste. You've got such a pretty mind—even pockmarked as it is—and I find myself caring despite myself. You think this is your last dance, in a false, flimsy body. Well...It doesn't have to be," she spoke with the perfect clarity of madness, seeing clearly, and yet not. "I can make false things real and real things false. I can give you another shot at the Prophet. You and me, actually—another roll of the dice."

Wilma smiled calmly. "No falsehoods, no twisting words. I can give you a body. Mine. I'd have another mind to guard this land, and you can have all the stories to star in as you like, so much drama and tears, an eternal stage, if you please." She folded her hands behind her back. "I am offering a symbiotic relationship to such a virus as you. If that is not palatable, then be warned—I was not real in the first place. I am just a character in my great-grandfather's revenge story. I can erase myself, and this land, and take you with me. You can have an existence free from a cruel god's or goddess' reins, or be consigned to nothingness."

"Choose," Wilma insisted softly, even as the infection crawled towards her boots and flooded her mind. Keeping up an appearance of a stiff upper lip was important in such hard times.

Edited by JumpingFruit on Dec 27th 2019 at 6:26:45 AM

Renegade->Internal Reality

Renegade paused for a moment, the various colors still stained the ground but the many copies fused into a single being, towering over Wilma but not seeming malicious. If anything behind his usual bear trap like grin and buzzing noise filled eyes there was a hint of remorse if anything else. "I'm so sorry," he finally spoke, his words tinted with real and honest sympathy for her. "This isn't right, and the fact that its happening to you, it really isn't fair," a clawed hand came over Renegade's face, and when it slipped he entered his base state, a sickly looking young man whose colorful hair seemed nothing more then dye that had been misapplied.

"Being created for a mental assault doesn't leave you with a lot of options, all you can do is infect the landscape around you, change it and destroy the person from within. You might be given all the memories, all the dreams, even something as close to a soul as a fake being can get. But in the end..." he looked into Wilma's eyes, his own starting to fill with tears.

"You aren't real." the sheer dedication within those words seemed to only be enhanced by the sorrow he displayed. Beneath their feet was an ocean of colorful madness, and around it a world of white. If from above the color would look like a small pool against an ocean of paper, but from their position the views were so easily reversed. "But, I can keep a copy of you around, something to protect me when my focus is elsewhere. I think we might make a good team. Renegade and Wilma, it rolls off the tongue doesn't it?" he reached a hand out for her forehead, his teeth slowly sharpening as his hand blocked her vision. "One touch and I'll make a perfect copy of you, it will be like you were real this whole time. Living inside my head as a perfect being."

Wilma (3)—Internal Reality

"Turnabout is apparently fair play. Good for you, then. Good for you. Drama Queen. Or is it King? Either way, I'm not fit to judge, that would be hypocritical. It's an admirable ambition to want your name to go first, but I digress—" chuckled Wilma as Renegade's hand just crumpled her flimsily, like paper. Was the Wilma that marched up to him the real Wilma at all?

"You should really stop thinking in absolutes like existence and non-existence. It's terribly boring that way," came Wilma's voice from everywhere at once. "As you're about to see. You're very, very kind. But you're sorely lacking in enlightenment, I'm afraid. Thankfully, I am willing to provide it."

The paper trees stiffened, and collapsed. Actually, everything seemed to stiffen in the ever-present "breeze" (Was that the sound of someone breathing? Was it Wilma?) and collapse. Everything was drawing towards everything else, forming a giant something in front of Renegade. The crystal rose sun (or was it a moon?) slowly transformed, and now Wilma's giant cycloptic eye stared down into the landscape, fractal traceries ever-blooming in it. The paper landscape coalesced into Wilma, except she was cupping Renegade—and his colorful puddle (nay, it was but a mere teaspoonful compared to the giant) gently in her hands.

Around them was a black void. Blacker than night, it was death—no, the end of all thoughts and dreams. Some primal instinct screamed that fact. Who knows what would happen if the giant decided to drop Renegade into it?

"You seem to be forgetting which one of us can make tulpas, and which one can only make copies here," said the thing gently and kindly, yet firmly. "If I were you, I'd choose being a tulpa over a copy. Do you understand, little Renegade? This is my territory. Even though you may consume me if you tried very hard, for a very long time, and I may yet erase you, taking you with me, there is an alternative to all the trouble that would cause, for me and for you. Do not test me. You know not with what forces you meddle."

Wilma smiled benevolently down on the Renegade-copy, giant eye channeling nothing but kind thoughts and heroic obligation.

"So. What will it be? Little one."

Edited by JumpingFruit on Dec 27th 2019 at 7:29:42 AM

Zach(s), Squad 1

Zach. Smash.

Those were the only words that the Animal-like Zach needed to hear when his form rippled a bit, almost in excitement. His form devolved into a stream of ink that coursed down to the battlefield like an angry puddle and reformed into the strange, quadrapedal form as before. It looked around excitedly, wondering where it would be best-

When it landed on Becca and it struck fast. Three tendrils of ink, ended with blades, shot out with the intent to stab and stab and stab and stab—

Oh, so this was happening, Zach quietly mused to himself as everyone just split and started the chaos. He was quick to react, thankfully, as the other Sam cut at the group, which he blocked with an Ink blade of his own. The confidence was very short lived as the frigid chill coursed up his arm and sent a burst of icy agony into his body. He hissed and pulled away, but brought up another blade and held it up to Samuel.

He didn't wanna fight someone with the face of his best friend but hey, that just seemed to be the way the day was going.

Mason - Squad 3

Boring? Boring!?

The indignancy of the comment almost brought Mason to new levels of anger but he managed to catch himself before it could spiral away from him.

Boring didn't matter. Winning mattered. Beating him mattered. So, as he stood up and quickly removed the fire chip from the driver and walked up to face him a bit more.

"Henshin." he said, calmly, as he slipped the water chip into the driver and flipped it. His form changed into the sleek, slightly fish based blue form and he pointed a finger at him. "I'm not afraid of you. Let's go." And he gestured with his finger, the universal "bring it on" gesture.

Cole - Squad 3

Cole was sent careening backward by the collision and just when it seemed this might be a pretty difficult fight...Wilma suddenly stepped in and started doing...something. He couldn't quite tell what, just that she had Prophet's undivided attention.

Cole's hand went to his head, feeling a headache coming on, and just paying attention to what was going on right now made him cringe and check his nose. Blood trickled down out of one nostril, and Cole looked away.

He reflexively evaded and tried to get to a better position.

It looked like whatever mojo this guy was working with, it let him take people's powers and use them himself. It was kinda like that thing with the monster in Ignis' basement, except somehow even worse.

Cole looked around and realized...

This was probably how a war just got started.

Liam's eyes were drawn to the fact this guy apparently needed to transform to use his tech to its fullest, and so he got an idea. Hearing the guy say some little catch phrase, Liam snapped his fingers and before long there was a sound in the air like something flying in...

...And so by the time that Mason got done with his transformation, the thopters were in position.

Mason made his statement and Liam responded, "Fight already started, my boring friend. I'm not gonna wait for you to transform."

That was when six battle ready specialized thopters, looking like the surveillance model except for more dangerous looking blasters built into the front, began to shell Mason from behind nonstop.

Meanwhile, the ice block aimed at the Gigantothopter by Sam was cut in half by a laser beam shot by the tremendous vehicle, the whole thing in short order evaporating in short order due to the beam temperature.

The Gigantothopter then readied one of its arms, and Barnett hit a switch inside, the arm starting to spin at the fist and then flying at incredibly high speeds at Sam.

Renegade-Wilma's Internal Reality

Seeing that his last gambit hadn't been everything he hoped the false copy of Renegade weighed the pros and cons of the situation before crafting a chair out of the ground and a pair of sunglasses, sitting back in a relaxed manner and stretching himself out. "Well as nothing but a psychic virus given a personality in order to mentally attack you its not like I have a lot of options now that the *heh* firewall has got me isolated." he waved around to the pure dark around him. Oh sure if he were actually Renegade he would just draw on the ambient anger and violation that he would have aimed toward him by dancing around another person mind, but as nothing but a shadow he could only act within programming.

In other words, a losing fight wasn't something he had been programmed to go forward with. The infection he had implanted would screw with her inner world and reducing any legend she made for as long as it took to scrub off, meaning as far as Prophet outside was concerned the attack had done its job. "But I have to warn you, there might be something in this for you, but I'm a hell of a pill to swallow, your madness is all based on your heroic ideals, but there isn't a single heroic bone in my body," he put a hand through his chest and laughed. "Because I don't have any bones, get it?" he paused for the laughter he was sure would come before continuing.

"Giving me a body means you can still use that infected patch, but it also means you get my voice in your head, and by our powers combined I will ensure a certain level of symbiosis. But I love the term 'dearly entangled parasite'. Till intense spiritual surgery do we part!" with his spiel done he waited for the darkness to take him.

Squad 1 - Saviorverse - Nariko

Nariko caught Wilma after she was sent flying from a blocked blast. For a moment she almost thought Wilma's pulse was fading, but it seemed the storybook girl was only unconscious.

Laying Wilma down, Nariko turned, rose, and spun to face Prophet once more, taking a stance similar to his.

"So you've mimicked my style. My abilities. But..." Her tail flicked out, blade extending dangerously. "You've also shown me that there are some things you can't copy. And that you're still only a man, beneath it all. A man who bleeds like any other."

She tensed her legs, looking over to her ally. "Cole! Leave him to me! As long as he can't copy anyone else's powers, I have the advantage!"

Then she was off. In an instant, what looked like seven copies of Nariko flickered into existence around Prophet, slashing wildly at him. Having copied her speed, Prophet would be easily able to determine the real one, of course, and would be able to react even to her lightning-quick assault.

But he would also see that she left no openings; this was easy to do, for her five limbs to his four gave her an innate advantage, which was only exacerbated by her increased reach. Her blades each added at least half a foot to her striking range, and her tail in particular was longer than she was tall, easily over six feet in length.

Though he could match her in speed and skill, all his stolen powers would accomplish was allowing him to realize how expertly she was utilizing her advantages over him.

Ellie casually ducked under Gloria's fist.

"Too slow." She chided, grinning. "No matter how strong you are, angel, it doesn't mean anything if you can't hit me."

Then Ellie lunged forward, throwing an electric uppercut into Gloria's chest. "But I can hit you!"

Gloria, Squad 1

Gloria quickly raised her shield to block Ellie’s attack. She was about to retaliate when suddenly, she just… stops.

“I think… I’ve made a mistake. This is exactly what you people want, isn’t it? More pointless violence, more fighting. A meaningless battle between good and evil in order for your corrupt regime to justify more invasions, more wars, more killing. Well, I’ve had enough of this. I will fight to defend my planet, but not to satisfy your craving for bloodshed.”

“If you wish to duel me to the end, you know where to find me. We shall see how well your rhetoric about ‘justice’ holds up as you slaughter men women and children of another world just to get revenge upon people who have dared to stand against you, especially with the Saint no longer on your side. Until then… goodbye.”

Gloria creates walls of holy flames to stifle Ellie’s attempts to get close, then begins her retreat.

Vivian(s)-Saviorverse

Fighting without the sensation of pain is an interesting thing. You can be staggered from impacts, obviously. Be jarred and have senses knocked out of alignment, or feel ruptures and parts get damaged and lose function. Even the slow draining of power and your "muscles" being unable to move as you accumulate injuries are cataloged and brought to your attention. Without the human pain receptors, though, it all can be disregarded too easily. Being able to overcome pain is important, and more of an advantage at times in combat than being able to not have it at all.

This was all running through Vivian's mind as the blows rained down. She felt the brick wall behind her buckle and fall from the impact of the fists hitting her face and chest, and in the next moment, she was being hurled through the newly-made hole in a flat arc. She buzzed past Prophet's head upside down at a speed that might well have killed him if she'd connected and burst through the cinderblock wall on the other side. All her systems flickered once, went down for a long moment, and then came back up.

Alt!Viv hopped through the fist hole and ambled across the street, tossing Prophet a cheery wave as she did so. She took in the running battle: Zach vs. some girl, Liam as usual outsourcing his fight against some guy with a funky wristband to his silly flying machines, Prophet against a cute rat-girl and a guy who made his hand glow? See all this? she sent to Viv on a coded and unbreakable frequency. It's just going to get worse. We don't back down. And you came here looking for a fight? Any damage done is on your heads.

Alt!Viv continued talking as she walked to the other crumbled wall. They all think I'm mad, of course. Which I guess lets them disregard me. Which is, of course, fine. Liam and the rest get to operate in their little areas of influence and denial and sleep well at night, while I have to run around and get my hands dirty. It's a thankless job. Liam is the Head of Surveillance. Martin is the main spokesman and voice of the Foundation. What do I get called? The Frontline Morale Destroyer. It's possible her voice sounded a trifle bitter.

As she climbed into the dark room, Viv tried to once again kick her in the face, but the other robot dodged easily and knocked her down. "Yes, I have been studying. And probably doing a lot more fighting than you. After all, those damned Mechs are a pain and someone has to take care of an occasional martyr trying to be a Hero Of The Rebellion. So I've had to practice constantly. Besides, fighting is 'fun. It's what we were raised to do, right?" She picked up Viv by the head. Her thumbs rested easily in the young woman's eye sockets, and then began to press down slowly. "Now, what shall we do with you? So many options."

Edited by Booky on Dec 29th 2019 at 4:46:19 AM

Saviorverse-Prophet

Her movements were perfect, exactly what she had trained herself for years to be able to pull off. Constant years of training, pushing herself to advance just a step further. Nights of going to sleep with a body bruised and battered only to get up and try twice as hard the next day. There wasn't a bit of disdain toward Nariko in his body even as she put forward an attack that would have caught even the Saint unaware.

So when each individual strike was stopped by only a small bubble of psychic force, just enough to leave each landing on nothing but dead air despite her movements she probably would feel a variety of emotions. Surprise first, followed by confusion, and then maybe even a hint of fear. It was the usual reaction to masters of a particular art when facing him. "Allow me to explain what just happened." with a flick of his wrist he launched a psychic blast directly toward the womans stomach and turned to face his foes with a sad smile on his face.

"Each of you have spent years mastering what makes you unique. Every skill, ability, and technique a hard earned victory. When I use my ability I gain all of it. Every instinct of it, so when I see you move," he flickered himself and three blurs appeared in front of Nariko, Cole, and Wilma, each booping their noses before returning to a few feet away. "-in such a way that 'this is the ability that will certainly be able to take him down, I know what you are doing. Because its what I would do. Every bit of training, every hard earned victory, all belong to me."

Adding together the power stolen from various other sources in a more permanent sense it made him a foe that could challenge even their top ranks. "There is no shame in being defeated by me, because every step of your lives is part of me at this moment."

Divine Skill- Alpha & Omega

Squad 1

Sam knew how wrong things could go horribly wrong, so there is something to be said about being prepared. In his case, that meant having something floating in his mind when action keeps him ready for when things go too explosive, so only a spark of will is enough to get things going.

In this case, having his own ice hand to knock aside, even if he had to move from the impact, he was sure the crater must be something amazing. If something went flying their way

His body started shifting once again, as he started calling the attention to those damned machines away from Mason.

First, let's see if this works A veritable arsenal of weapons formed shooting in all directions. Of course, he didn't intend to actually do damage, just call their attention to release something bigger.

Load the gun, then pull the trigger —- Samuel, on the other hand looked at Zach, studying him for a second. He hid his free hand, making something he kept hidden.

Another slash of the blade came in, before a sphere marked red was thrown on the air.

"Just something to think about" He said "When you lose everything you held dear, what remains?"

Prophet's speech just made him grunt. While one can't feel much, that god complex of his is a common source of irritation.

Wilma (3)

"That's the whole point of symbiosis, silly. Now...to business," the Wilma-thing chuckled, AFFIRMING Renegade's existence. Paper shuffled back into its rightful places in the landscape, filling up the void and forming the sky, and the giant eye closed, becoming the crystal rose that gazed out across the nearly-pristine landscape yet again.

Renegade's body grew heavy with conceptual solidity, being suddenly anchored in the firmament of the cosmos. The limbs that felt so flimsy now felt solid, and somehow, three-dimensional, as if someone had added depth to his being.

The demented colors in the landscape unspooled and sorted themselves out—green went to plants, blue tinted the sky and a nearby river, red and pink went to the flowers, yellow colored the sunlight, and so on—while a wooden hut folded out of the land, browns seeping into the boards and golds seeped into the straw thatching. There was a slight pause, and a dog was born out of the grass, a ruddy brown all over except for a white stripe over its snout. It curled up on the front porch of the hut.

"You at least get rent-free living out of this deal, complete with your basic amenities. I'm not a savage," Wilma said somewhat defensively from the lofty confines of a breeze. "If you're up to it, we need to show Prophet up, and thanks to you, I know where the back door is!"

Where Renegade had manifested, his connection to Prophet was cut off—some sort of figurative bear-trap had snapped shut over it, stealing a small piece of his power forever and ever. It perfectly illustrated the dangers of sticking bits of yourself down an "empty space" like a sewer grate, since there could always be alligators or crocodiles in them.

Two charges left in the heart on the hand.

Back To The Real World

"I think you've read me the wrong way here," Wilma said, at length, after being unexpectedly booped on the nose after she got back on her feet. "I'm a knight the same way Don Quixote was a knight. Which is to say, not at all. You would have known that, if you hadn't judged me by my cover. You're a hack and cheat, do you know that?"

"But I do have to admit, you have a sense of flair. Did you get that from Renegade?" she asked.

Yes, he very much stole it from me, snarked Renegade from inside Wilma's mind. She was shown an image of him laying on a couch, popping grapes into his mouth dramatically. Woe is me! He uses it all wrong!

"No, no, I apologize. I should never compare you to him. You two aren't comparable at all," she continued, using a statement that could be either a compliment or an insult to either of them. "How do you think injecting a different disease into a sick person is going to help them get better? You quack."

"Nevertheless, I evolved and I obtained a useful symbiont," Wilma said, static flashing in her eyes. "Send your army one and all, I'll eat 'em up for breakfast and lunch, and maybe dinner if I've still got room! You'll just have to play along to my delusions, and fight me in the physical realm. And I may yet survive. So...Wait, Renegade wants to send you a message!"

"Here's to a brand new game!" both voices called out. If Wilma's mind was a control room, then Wilma and Renegade were the perfectly coordinated operators. While Renegade tried to mask Wilma's abilities from Prophet's Divine Skill, Wilma appeared behind Prophet and cleaved downwards with a mighty strike.

Edited by JumpingFruit on Dec 31st 2019 at 8:38:23 AM

Savior HQ

Suddenly, just as the fight between the heroes and their counterparts reached a fever pitch, it was over. All the heroes as well as the renegades disappeared in a blinding flash. And all that remained was the smoking rubble.

As quickly as the heroes had disappeared, they just as quickly found themselves reappearing in Reinbach's lab. The good doctor himself had seen the events unfold through a large spyglass, observing them from a safe distance. And just as it was looking grim, he managed to pull nearly everyone back from the brink.

"Wunderbar! In all honesty, I wasn't even sure that would work. The last time I tried that was back in '93. Of course, neither party was in their right minds again. Or should I say their right bodies?" He clasped his hands together in glee as if he hadn't just uttered a faux pas. "So! Is everyone still in one piece?"

Edited by kkhohoho on Jan 1st 2020 at 5:48:51 AM

Zach - Squad 1

Zach found himself mulling the meaning of the other Sam's words, and he found himself actually losing himself in the fight from what it could have meant, and one moment he was suddenly back in the lab!

Huh. Well.

Zach looked down at himself and touched about himself, making sure all the important parts were more or less still attached. Ah...yeah. I think I'm okay. He wrote idly.

When I lose everything I hold dear...what remains...? He thought to himself and shuddered a bit.

He didn't need to think about the ramifications of that.

Mason - Squad 3

Mason barely had time to cry out in surprise when he was blasted in the back by all those obnoxious little drones, eyes wide under his mask and driving him to his knees. When Sam offered him some covering fire, he rolled over to the side.

Okay. So, we still have advantage here. He thought to himself, looking down at the driver and shuddered. We have human numbers vs...robot numbers. Sam and I should be able to take-Where the fuck did Sam go.

Indeed, Sam had all but vanished, and so did a fair amount of others in the squads! He assumed Reinbach or something finally got ahold of the situation...but not so much HE Could be saved too.

Frankly...good? Perhaps?

Okay, change of plans. Water isn't going to make this easier for me. I figured I could short circuit SOMETHING but something tells me they're fucking water protected. Earth would give me defenses, Wind would give me Speed and Fire would give me wide spread attacks. That may be the best way to go...

...You could go Light and Dark-

"NO! Shut up, shut up, shut UP, I don't need to do that! I need strategy! I need logic! I need FIREPOWER!" And in a burst of fire, his form shifted into the fire mode and he went flying at Liam, hand reeled back in an attack, a loud battlecry echoing from his throat.

Liam watched as Mason picked himself back up after that, and he lightly turned his eyes to the side in time to see the thopters dart around and avoid Sam's attacks...just in time for Sam himself to disappear. The scientist smirked slightly, and then as Mason charged in - ever the impetuous one - he caught the man's fist in one hand and the rest of his arm in the other.

"You know...your friends abandoned you, your tech is behind mine, you've got a boring fighting style...I'd say it sucks to be you, but honestly? If you've got even a slightly scientific mind, you've probably deduced that by now. By the by, RIP; your elbow."

The enemy's armor was a pretty advanced thing, and offered a good amount of protection...but Liam's neurosteel body had some tricks of its own. Transmitting the force from the impact into force administered to Mason's body, Liam suddenly twisted Mason's arm toward an angle no arm should ever display.

At the same time, about six specialized combat thopters took aim at Vivian from the main universe as she fought her doppelganger. Darting in, they suddenly emitted bright red spikes of energy right at her back.

Cole just watched from the sidelines as Wilma fought Prophet, feeling sick to his stomach knowing that if he even tried to help he would be worse than useless. He didn't even need to be hit to know that he was in a bad place. Cole clenched his fists and looked down.

We started a war, we did little or nothing in damage to these totalitarian dingbats...and we're gettin' our asses handed to us. So bad they're pulling people out.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

Mason - Squad 3

He heard the snap before he felt it, and when the pain finally rushed to him, his eyes went wide and his mouth opened in a loud, guttural scream as his arm was snapped, ''again''.

Having the moment of clarity punctuated by splitting agony did give him a moment of silent contemplation, and he had to find it amusing that even then, from one direction to the other, it still wasn't enough. Here he was in a battlefield with no friends, "friends" to help him and his armor, his birthright, the very thing that made him him failing him for what felt like the second time.

Mom always told him that his belief in what he could do would be enough to push him through. Well, that sure turned out to be a load, didn't it? He believed all he could, and even then here he was at the mercy of someone like...whoever the fuck this guy was, and he could do NOTHING about it.

The pain ebbed away to dull agony and an intense sensation of white noise in both ears, and the slowly crawling realization that reality had ultimately bit him in the ass. That people got hurt during this.

That's what being a hero means to me.

His spare hand burst into flames, and he bit back his pain with everything he held in. Martin wouldn't give up like this. The Saint wouldn't give up like this. A real hero wouldn't give up like this.

I wanted to make the world a better place.

He reeled his hand back and with a bitter finality to it, he aimed one final punch to his face.

That despite all the chaos and anarchy in this world, there was still someone, no matter how old, how young, where they came from, that wanted to make sure you were safe, who was going to fight the good fight for you and take those feelings of dread away from you.

Yeah. Right.

He coughed up some blood from the earlier barrage as his fist continued to sail forward.

What a crock of shit.

Liam loomed for a moment and then once again caught Mason's fist in one hand, preparing to utilize the same trick as before. He looked at Mason and stated, "You're never going to improve if you keep doing the same thing, over and over, and expecting it to go differently. Science is the process of improving upon what exists and moving forward. But you. You just...keep on trying..."

He tightened his fist.

The sound of bones straining and Mason's armored glove beginning to shift.

"The same old things, over and over. You're never going to be a good technician if you refuse to improve." Liam then tightened his fist and issued a mental command to his thopters.

The sound of metal breaking and cracking issued forth.

Liam's fist, using the same trick as before, tightened and broke both Mason's armor at the fist as well as most of the bones within his hand. At the same time, one of the thopters from before - one of the very ones that blasted Mason earlier - flew over behind his right knee and emitted a bright red, extremely hot "beam spike" directly at the back of Mason's knee, capable of ripping right through to the front.

Liam finished his evaluation with, "Your presentation is abysmal, your science is shoddy, your invention allows for minimal combat variation. So...question then. Who's got two vaporized knees and is incredibly, incredibly bland?"

Edited by NickTheSwing on Jan 3rd 2020 at 1:12:45 AM

Squad 1

Sam was trying to create a distraction, but he didn't get to do much more as he found himself on the Foundation again.

"Damn it" He muttered. Those dead eyes haunting him. Just what happens to make a man look and feel like a corpse in life? A sharp pain came to his side, something must have gotten him without realizing. His hand went to his wound, feeling blood running down his fingers.

"Not too well physically nor emotionally" He admitted "But just another day"

Looking around, he tried to show some strength, some spirit, but he just didn't know how.

Sometimes, being me sucks

"Damn it"

Edited by Blueace on Jan 3rd 2020 at 11:39:35 AM

Squad 1 - Saviorverse - Nariko

She couldn't harm him.

Prophet had already copied Cole's powers - and perhaps others; she didn't know how long his copied abilities lasted - which eliminated her advantage.

Once more, she was useless. Her speed meant nothing to an opponent she could not harm.

Staring down her foe, she lowered her stance, dropping her arms in surrender. Had she been killed in that moment, Nariko would have accepted it.

And then the Saviors were gone, as the Squads found themselves returned home. Nariko sank to her knees, and punched the ground with a trembling fist.

"Goddammit." She hissed, softly. "What use was all my training if some asshole with magic powers can ignore my every attack?"

She rose to her feet, but kept her eyes on the ground.

No. Her fist clenched, as she thought of Prophet's smiling face. I won't allow that villain to harm anyone else. A grim resolve flashed in her downcast eyes. I need to get stronger. I need to surpass him.

"...there is no justice." Ellie spat, standing before the wall of fire. "No justice, except what you can grasp with your own two hands. You've never suffered yourself, have you? How would you know what it's like to kneel at the feet of monsters?"

Lightning crackled at her horn as she continued. "We kill people, but we kill the people who deserve it. We don't enslave or torture people. We don't force people to get married when they don't want to. We don't make them have sex with us. And we'll never do any of that. I'll never let anyone like that take power. Never again. No matter what it takes."

Ellie turned to lightning, leaping over the fire and crashing back down on Gloria. "So take your talk about justice, and shove it up your-!"

And then Gloria was gone, and Ellie's fist struck the empty ground, cracking the concrete. Her head snapped left and right quickly, searching for her opponent. Only to realize the interlopers had vanished.

Ellie screamed in frustration, before flying off.

Gloria, Reinbach's Lab

Gloria thankfully looks more weary than actually grievously wounded from the battle. It was probably a good idea that she left when she did, by the sound of it.

"I'm doing fine. I just hope the others will be alright."

Lily – Reinbach's Lab

“...Still in one piece,” Lily managed upon materializing, stunned to the point of complete flat affect. “I think so, anyway, I...”

...What just... happened?

It was as if her brain had gone into a panic shutdown, not even attempting to process all that had occurred in fear that it would be too much for her. And try she did to keep herself composed. But she had already begun to shake, the memory of the brief but terrifying fight gradually trickling through as the shock began to alleviate a little.

“They were... beyond anything,” she muttered, by now having clasped her arms around herself in an attempt to disguise her trembling. “How could I... how could we ever even fight them?”

God, was that... how we'd be if we had nothing stopping us? Just... I can't even imagine... and... where was I?

It was this sudden realisation that hit her the most. Come to think of it, a lot of them hadn't been reflected in that lineup. Did that mean that they were just separated? Off on different missions? Or perhaps something worse?

“I don't think I can...” she began slowly, face still blank even as she sunk down to the floor into a sitting position. “It's killing me to... to keep doing this.”

No, it's not, she thought to herself. You've been dead since the nightmare.

“...9,223,372,036,854,775,807...”

Edited by Enirboreh on Jan 3rd 2020 at 2:26:51 PM

Squad 1

Sam quickly stitched himself to deal with the bleeding for the time. Later his own healing might deal with the rest, but he had to finish this whole thing, and later plan how to make himself stronger. He had to get stronger, better.

But hearing Lily and seeing her slide to the ground made him push all that aside. Moving fast, as every other worry felt secondary. Kneeling, he moved to hold her close, as delicately as he could. No words were said by him, just trying to make her feel better, as if she was the most precious thing in the world.

And she is He thought, his conscious mind feeling so distant To me

Vivian(s)-Saviorverse

After they crashed through a third wall and into a basement, Alt!Viv picked up her double and brushed her off, propping her against a wall. "From what I can hear, it's not going well for your friends. Martin's a tough guy, after all. Too cocky really, but that's what comes of being on top for so long. It's why I prefer to stay in the field. Stay sharp." She dug around in the gaping hole in Vivian's chest for a moment, frowning. "Dammit. I was sure we'd be using roughly the same model." She cursed and pulled out her hand with a small flashdrive in it, which she quickly plugged into her arm.

As Vivian crumpled back to the floor, she muttered, "So you're just their wrecking ball? And is this the place where you tell me we're so similar?"

The other lady turned back to her. "I do their dirty work because it's all there is to do. Honestly, it's kind of boring. Only picking fights you know you can win. And I know, you look at us and think we're evil. And to a point, you'd be right. Was a time I thought we needed to have a harder edge. But perhaps we have tipped too far." She shrugged. "But this is how it is now. And no, we're not that similar. For one, I beat Ignis when he visited our world. For another....''I'm better than you. At everything." She didn't even look around as her enemy shimmered away.

Then Alt!Viv turned, and with blurring speed she destroyed all but one of Liam's machines. Pulling the last one close, she spoke softly into its tiny camera. "Liam. I'll give you a piece of advice, given as we're at least supposed to be on the same team. Keep your damned toys away from me and my business. Play with your little thopters and your brain-f*cked minions. Pretend that you're someone of import. But stay out of my way. You know I don't make threats. You know most of the things I've done and can do. But I promise you-I'm full of surprises. And you would not like them." She crushed it and strolled away, ducking into a smooth steel door and sealing it behind her. There was an elevator, then another set of steps, and so on.

Three stories down and a mile away she slipped into a room dominated by a glowing tube with a body floating inside. She walked up to it and pressed a hand to the lass, gazing up with what might be mistaken for hope in her gaze. "I know, cliche." She muttered. "Still....." At her words, the eyes of the figure flickered open for a moment, showing eyes that did not look very human.

Viv began cursing as soon as she knew she was back in Reinbach's lab. "Well, that was a damned mistake. We got our f*cking butts kicked." She began doing an internal diagnostic, still swearing. "I've got major damage to three systems, my servos are badly cracked, and I'm going to have to transfer to a new body asap. I hope the other team at least gave the g*ddamn Saint a bloody lip."

Edited by Booky on Jan 3rd 2020 at 7:28:24 AM

Prophet-Saviorverse

It seemed his little mental attack had been repelled, an annoyance to be sure but the price of doing business in this day and age. And the fog in his vision at her movement was another worry to add on for later. But for now there was still enough time to show one more thing. As Wilma' descended Prophet made no move to dodge with his various skills and speed, in fact he leaned in to the downward strike, looking directly in her eyes as the blade sunk directly into his shoulder and split his skin like the paper of her own mental realm. Various cuts and strikes appeared over every inch of his body as her theoretical sword took on its effect.

As fast as a flash he grabbed her wrist and drew her in close. "Let me make something clear to you," despite the blood seeping from his open wounds Prophet didn't seem deterred, his face a mask of pure disinterest. "We are coming to save you, so instead of worrying, or struggling, count the moments you still have in your diseased world. Think of it as the last breaths before a nightmare." his wounds began to stitch themselves together, even forming back around the blade which she cut him with. With a small movement he pulled her blade across his chest, directly where his heart should be. "I am not a hero, so you don't have to worry about me failing to save everything. A god should answer all prayers without fail." Prophet closed his eyes and opened to reveal two bright and blinding lights, looking into Wilma's own.

"Don't worry, the Messiah is coming." and with that, he let go of her hand, already feeling the shift in dimensions that would steal her away.