Basilisk

Seeing Martin enter with the box of cigars, and having overheard the large woman's coversation with Gertrude, Basilisk took a moment to consider his options. For a moment, he decided that it might be fun to watch the man get angry over his wild goose chase. However, he reasoned that a) they would likely take any discussions into a back room, where the clients wouldn't be disturbed b) Rock-hopper or Corvus would take the bullet, and spoil his fun, or c) Someone would tell the man that he was the one who had ordered the cigars. Deciding that it was inevitable that the cigars would come to him eventually, he walked over the man with the cigars.

"I believe you have a cigar for me?" He slipped a quick glance at the label on the box. "Partagas, if I'm not mistaken."

Hmmm...

Dark Basilisk- "Last Resort" by Papa Roach

Rock-Hopper- "Sonne" or "Feuer Frei" both by Rammstein

Corvus Corax- "Adrenaline" by Gavin Rossdale

Brown-Out- "Somebody Told Me" by the Killers

Fel Rose- "Enter Sandman" by Metallica

Basilisk focused again on the waitress. He smiled a weary smile and nodded yes.

"Yeah. My hometown. If you've got some, that would be great."

The sound of a ball sinking into a pocket recaptured his attention. Corvus stood from her shot, smiled, and waggled a finger at Rock-hopper.

"And that's game. You want to lose another round, or do you give up?"

"Ecch... Too damned cocky for yer own good, you are. Alright. Darts, then. No money this time." He paused briefly and pointed to a spot along the wall opposite the dartboard, easily 35 to 40 feet from the target, "And you stand over there."

She analyzed the distance, nodded once, retrieved three darts from the board and took up her assigned spot. With a quick toss, a dart was in the air, arcing gracefully until it hit the dartboard directly in the centre of the bull's eye. Two more throws, and two more bull's eyes followed. She smiled at Rock-hopper, who was gazing, dumbfounded, at her.

"I think you owe me a beer."

With that, she walked past him, and took a seat at a stool to the left of Dark Basilisk.

((OOC: Actually, nicotine acts as a kind of sedative to Basilisk now. He was a pack-a-day smoker before he recieved his powers and hasn't been able to kick the habit completely. The things they don't tell you about having your DNA altered... ))

Dark Basilisk couldn't help notice Gertrude's nervous glances his way. Being a seven foot lizard often drew stares, sometimes even gasps of revulsion from passersby. He had long since learned to cope with the reality of being a monster, but sometimes he simply couldn't help feeling a little hurt when a mother grabbed her child and crossed the street when he came near.

"Can I get you all something from the bar, or kitchen? Another pitcher or some snacks?"

The woman seemed kindly enough. Even if she was frightened, she made the attempt at courtesy. Basilisk appreciated that. He shook his head in the negative.

"I think we're fine for now, thanks" His voice was deep and sonorous, with no hint of sibilance. As Gertrude began to return to the bar, he spoke again.

"Actually... You got any Grasshopper ale? Been a while since I had some, and you seem to be loaded for bear. I mean... It's fine if you don't carry it, but if you do, could I get a pint?"

The short monologue was the most that the man had said since entering the bar, and it seemed to have tired him out, as he set himself on a stool nearby and began gaing intently at the two playing pool.

Rock-hopper retrieved the small ice penguin from the tray and set it on the edge of the pool table, where it began happily bobbing again, circling in slow laps around the table. He raised his glass in salute to the woman behind the bar.

"Feel free to join us if ye get bored! We don't bite. Well," He hiked a thumb at the scaled man, "Basilisk here might, but we'll keep him off."

The yellow-lensed sunglasses obscured Dark Basilisk's eyes too much for them to be seen, but his expression made it clear that he was casting Rock-hopper a dirty look.

"Fine. Insult the freak. That's it... Ehh, screw it. I'm off to commit some suicide."

From one pocket in his cargo pants, he pulled out a packet of smokes. He grabbed the beer that Rock-hopper had poured for him and headed into the smoking area. Rock-hopper waved a dismissive hand at him, then turned his attention back to his beer. Frowning slightly, he pulled the gas mask out of the way, and quaffed the entire pint in one long pull. He smacked his lips and reset the gas mask in position. He returned his attention back to Corvus.

"Alright. Pool-time." He pointed a meaty finger at her, "And no funny stuff this time."

The two began playing a game of pool, with the woman in black and blue easily taking an early lead in the first game.

((OOC: Actually, Rock-hopper's an Aussie. The only reason he rags on the french is that Corvus is French, and she "cheated" him out of $100 playing darts, and using her heightened sense of accuracy. I know what you mean about discrimination of the french, though. I'm French-Canadian myself, and while I'm not Quebecois, I still put a french emphasis on some words. I've been dropped from teams for paying attention to the accents. Not that I want to play with anyone who hates me for my language, but I reported them anyway.

Oh, and btw, Basilisk's remark about suicide is just what he calls smoking. No need to be alarmed.))

Rock-hopper got up and leaned against the bar, hands on the serving towel.

"Thanks, luv. Your blood's worth bottling, and no mistake. Take care."

With that, he grabbed the pitcher and glasses, and went to join his companions at the pool table. Sitting on the towel where he had been resting his hands, slowly melting in the heat of the bar, was a small penguin formed of solid ice.

Rock-hopper looked at the small woman in surprise, at first, then a smile creased the edges of his eyes.

"What am I? Some times I gotta wonder meself. But, near as I figure it, I'm mostly human, with a bit of penguin thrown in fer flavour. Throw on to that a dash of chemicals and radiation and you got me. Rock-hopper's the name, how'dya do?."

When the other woman approached and ordered her beer, Rock-hopper's eyes widened a bit, and he turned around to face her.

"Sorry, miss, 'bout that french remark. Meant no offense, you see. Just tryin' to get my friend's lather up."

((OOC: sorry about the late reply... woulda been sooner, but my internet's been acting up.))

Acknowledging the bartender with a wink, Rock-hopper looked quickly at the selection of beers available then ordered.

"Ah, G'day, luv. Lessee... You got Foster's? Give us a pitcher 'o that. Otherwise, just surprise me. Imported preferably. You yanks got a lot of things right, but beer ain't one of 'em."

He waved his two companions off to set up the pool table and took a seat as Narshawn prepared the beer. He pointed at the woman and continued,

"An' no cheatin' either!"

He faced Narshawn, mumbling a few good-natured curses, then said to the bartender, smiling under his mask,

"Word of advice to you. Don't trust the French... They'll try an' get you every time."

((OOC: Rock-hopper is loud and a bit obnoxious, but he doesn't mean insult in anything he says. Especially about the French. It's all good-natured humour.))

At four o'clock, almost to the second, three figures walked into the bar. Two men and one woman, though the three couldn't have been more different from one another if they'd tried. The woman was of average height and a slim build, And she wore a black and blue spandex uniform, with a pair of wings sprouting from out of her hair. The first man was about six feet tall, and massively built, and looked like nothing so much as a giant humanoid penguin, right down to a gas mask painted to look like a bill. The final patron was very tall, easily standing 7 feet. His face and torso, exposed, were covered with green scales and a large serpentine tail poked out from his cargo pants. Of the three, he looked most out of place, shifting uncomfortably as if he didn't really want to be there. The penguin spoke.

"See? I told ya! I can smell beer a mile away."

His tone was jovial, and his australian accent was thick. The woman turned to him and shook her head.

"Rock-hopper, if you spent half as much time working on your cases as you did at bars, you'd be a millionaire by now."

The words were critical, but there was a smile in her voice. The french lilt in her speech was noticeable, but not so much as to be distracting. Rock-hopper raised his hands to his chest as if wounded.

"Pardonnez-moi, madame." He butchered the accent, but the words were at least recognizable. "But, if my memory serves, you've been right here with me, Corvus Corax" He stressed her name in mock admonishment. The third man had apparently had enough of the banter.

"Listen, can we get on with this? I haven't got all day."

The penguin shook his head in a silent laugh.

"Dark, you're the only person I know who makes fun a chore. C'mon. I'm buying first round."

Under the big man's urging, the three of them crossed to the bar and ordered drinks, then set up the pool table for a game.

With Requiem temporarily distracted, Rock-hopper snuck around behind him. The chance to further weaken his foe presented itself. With an underhand swing, his stone mallet connected with the back of Requiem's knee. Buckling under the force, the Nictus collapsed hard to his knees. Without sparing a second, Rock-hopper grabbed a tentacle in each hand, and wrapped them around his arms. Steam hissed as the negative energy began eating away slowly at the ice covering the penguin's arms. Bracing his legs against Requiem's back, Rock-Hopper began to pull on the tentacles with all his strength.

Requiem screamed in agony, as if the dark tendrils were a part of his own flesh. The grotesque sound of cartilage snapping could be heard by all. Finally, the tentacles surrendered with a loud pop. Two oozing wounds were left behind on Requiem's back, and the tentacle holding Shrike fell lifeless to the the ground as it was violently disconnected from its host. The other two tentacles were flailing in the air wildly. Rock-hopper recovered quickly and grabbed these tentacles similarly. He pulled these to their limit and spoke:

"Now, you're gonna tell us what we wanna know, or you'll lose these, too. Got it?"

Seeing Requiem for the first time, Rock-hopper's eyes blazed. Mallet in hand, he launched himself into the air at the Nictus, coating himself in a thick layer of ice as he jumped. Swinging hard, he brought the mallet down on Requiem as he landed. The hammer ricocheted off of some invisible force before actually hitting the Council leader, but some of the force of the attack seemed to get through, as Requiem stumbled a bit under the mallet.

Not wanting to allow his target a chance to recover, Rock-Hopper followed up his attack with another swing of his hammer, then a stone covered straight arm punch. While the flurry of attacks was keeping Requiem off balance, it seemed to be doing little to no damage.

Well, Let's see, who do we have here....


Corvus Corax: Corvus is more or less a full time hero. She supplements the stipend that she recieves by acting as a consultant to the PCPD in super-powered dealings.

Rock-Hopper: Rock-Hopper has a private practice as a super-hero defense lawyer. Chris Jenkins has caused him no end of grief, and he wants to help other heroes get out of unjustified lawsuits. His success in court, coupled with his stipend, has granted him the liberty to pick-and-choose his clients.

Dark Basilisk: Dark Basilisk earns most of his money as a super-powered bounty hunter. Generally, he'll pick only jobs that go well with his conscience, but occasionally he'll get his hands dirty if he's in financial need.

Infinity Spectre: Well, he's dead... not much chance for a day-job there. He's a full time hero, but spends a lot of time at Paragon University, sitting in on courses- you should learn something if you're stuck here for eternity.

Fel Rose: A demoness, summoned here by a minor cult. The incantation got bollixed up, and she exacted gruesome revenge on the pathetic mortals. She's stuck here now, so she's subsisting (for the moment) on the finances of the former cultists. She signed up to be a hero after learning that there were likely more members in Paragon, and that beinga hero was likely the best way to find them.

Spatial Anomaly: An alien, Spatial Anomaly leeches off of her discoverer, a local researcher, in order to get by. She contributes her stipend to him, so it all balances out in the end...

((Whoa! Jeez... Take off for a while, and everything here just goes nuts... Let's see if I can work myself back in here. ))

Rock-Hopper watched his newfound allies descend into the sewer. He allowed the rest to go first, deciding to take up the rear. He was just about to lower himself into the storm drain, when he was approached by an older woman. Her face was covered in dust, with trails cleaned by tears streaking down. She looked at him, hope clear in her eyes.

"Please, stop them. Save those people. I believe in you."

The penguin-man was struck silent for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something, but the right words wouldn't come. I'm not sure we can do this. How can I tell her that? How can I tell her that when I go in there, I'm not likely gonna come out? He looked for something comforting to say to the woman, but gave up and simply nodded. In spite of his despair and anger, the woman looked comforted. With that, he lowered himself into the hole.

When he dropped down, Rock-hopper couldn't see anyone from his team. Voices filtered down the tunnel to where he was standing.

"I...we...help is appreciated, but we don't..."
"Tick-Tok, Freedom Phalanx Reserve!"

Rock-Hopper could only assume that his group had met up with someone else down here. He followed the voices down one tunnel and ran into the heroes he had met on the surface chatting with another group he didn't recognize.

"I'm in, too. Figure you blokes could use some muscle. 'Sides, I'm not through settling me score with these Council whackers."

Rock-Hopper's mood seemed to have improved some since his tussle with the Council Soldiers. The chance to redeem himself gave him a new air of confidence. However, his anger was still almost palpable.

"Those walkin' dongers in the uniforms back there said this 'ere warehouse in Striga was the place to find Requiem and 'is standover men. Seems like the best place to start."

Watching the same television as Fox, Rock-Hopper could only stare in shock at the Council symbol staring back at him. He looked back the smouldering corpse of the paramedic, which was returning to its original size. Weak-kneed from disbelief, the hero collapsed heavily onto a nearby pile of rubble.

I killed him. He was a paramedic and I killed him. I'm supposed to be helping these people, not killing them!

Composing himself, Rock-Hopper got back to his feet, and looked back at the television in the window. The Council symbol was still there, almost mocking him by its presence. With a savage cry and one swing of a fist, he put his hand through the window and smashed into the TV. Sparks flew as the screen exploded under the stone-covered fist. Covering himself once more in ice, he began leaping in giant bounds down the street, looking for Council and not caring if anyone followed.

Ignoring the panic and mayhem in the street, Rock-Hopper found a small group of Council soldiers standing on a street corner, looking on in obvious satisfaction at their handywork. Without hesitation, the hero leapt in with a swing of his mallet and smashed it down on the nearest soldier. Normally, Rock-Hopper would restrain his attacks, to prevent casualties to his opponents however, today he couldn't be bothered. The hammer hit the first of the three soldiers and felled him with a sick thud as the hammer collapsed his rib cage and smashed his organs.

By the time either of the other two soldiers had realized what was going on, Rock-Hopper had formed a massive Icicle protruding from his armor. He snapped it off and impaled it into the chest of the second soldier, who collapsed immediately. All that remained was one soldier dressed in khaki-coloured armour. The man fumbled with his gun, but before he could fire a round, Rock hopper had ripped it from his hands and threw it onto the rooftop of a distant building. He grabbed the soldier by the throat.

"How do you stop it?" Rock-Hopper's voice was deadly calm. The soldier didn't answer.

"HOW DO YOU BLOODY-[censored]-WELL STOP IT?" The soldier started and mumbled something unintelligible from behind the mask. Quickly running out of patience, Rock-Hopper lifted a foot, and smashed it down on the soldier's leg. The leg spurted blood as his tibia fractured and tore out the back of the soldier's leg. The soldier cried out in pain.

"Vandal... Requiem... Nosferatu... Only ones..."

"Then you're gonna tell me how to bloody-well get there, now aren't you?"

"Can't... They'll kill.."

"I'll kill you too, mate. Why not save yourself some suffering?"

The soldier looked as though he was going to keep quiet, but Rock-hopper pushed meaningfully on the other leg.

"Striga... Warehouse..." He recited an address in Striga.

"Good onya, mate. Oh... one last thing..."

Rock-Hopper pulled his arm back, ready to swing, but paused and pulled off the soldier's mask instead. He immediately wished that he hadn't. Underneath the mask was a young man, no older than thirty, with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. The eyes held so much terror. He could see his reflection in those eyes. He coughed in disgust, unsure of whether it was at the soldier or at himself. Rock-Hopper found that he could not throw the punch to end the man's life, so he merely knocked him out and tagged him with the prison transponder. A few seconds later the body disappeared. Rock-Hopper jumped up and returned to the group.

((OOC: I have to agree. I feel that a move like this merely unfocuses the story from its original intent, which seemed to me to be a situation in which the heroes are placed into a dilemma where their morals and values are placed into question. I realize that as yet, Rock-Hopper has not had any such dilemma, but the true realization of what is happening simply has not yet occured to him. Having all the villain groups simply team up by deus ex machina seems... cheap. ))

Rock-Hopper accepted the proferred hand, and shook it quickly, still alert for potential ambushes.

"Name's Rock-Hopper. Good onya, mate, for givin' that beastie the flick. Remind me to buy you a pint once we're done." He stopped, hearing more sirens go off in the distance.

"Well, it's London to a brick that we're not done 'ere, not by a long shot. What say we head off, see if we c'n take care of a few more 'o these mongrels. Maybe we c'n find who's behind it, too."

The thick, black smoke made seeing anything more than a few inches away a difficult task at best. Fighting in the stuff was near impossible. All Rock-Hopper could do was to swing hard at the occasional glimpse of an arm, or at the odd growling noise that the creature made. Thankfully, more often than not, his blows connected. However, the erstwhile paramedic did not seem as angered by his blows as might be expected, as if it were distracted by something else.

A leering, distorted face poked through the haze, bruised and a little scorched. Rock-Hopper could only assume that that meant other heroes were in the cloud with him. Winding up, Rock-Hopper took careful aim and launched a brutal stone uppercut to the almost-human face. The creature reeled back, dazed, and swung a meaty fist in retaliation. The fist caromed into Rock-Hopper's chest, leaving a spiderweb of cracks in the armour of ice, but leaving the hero mostly undamaged. Pressing the attack, Rock-Hopper lifted one foot and slammed it to the ground, sending a massive shockwave through the earth and upending the creature. His opponent dazed and vulnerable, the hero swung his mallet straight at the beast's head. The hammer came down with a loud crack, leaving a series of cuts and punctures across the paramedic's forehead.

The blow that should have killed the creature only seemed to anger it, and it grabbed Rock-Hopper by the leg. From its supine position, the creature swung its arm and sent the hero to the ground. Recovering its footing, it grabbed the prone hero, lifted him over its head and threw him with all of its might. Crashes of metal, glass and ice came from outside of the smoke cloud as Rock-Hopper smashed into the cab of the ambulance, coming to rest on the front seat. Shaking his head to clear it, Rock-hopper, now bruised and battered, stepped out of the Ambulance.

"This ain't workin'. I'm gonna need some kind of plan. And soon."

Looking around for some kind of makeshift weapon, Rock-Hopper spotted a car which had overturned. Most of the chassis had ripped open, and there was gasoline pouring out onto the street. Remembering the scorch marks on the creature's body, the hero came up with an idea. Prying the mostly full gas tank off of the car, he re-entered the dissipating cloud of smoke with it.

With the smoke nearly gone, Rock-Hopper could now see the two heroes inside fighting the creature. One of them was on fire, the other seemed to be maintaining his own pocket of smoke. With his best baseball pitch, Rock-Hopper threw the gas tank at the creature. The tank collapsed on impact, dousing the beast with gasoline. The heat from the other hero ignited the gas, and the creature began screaming, his petrol-soaked paramedic's uniform acting like a wick, drawing the gasoline up from the puddle which had formed on the ground. The shadow covered hero launched a final punch, and the creature collapsed.

[edit]- Stupid spelling....

"I agree, but where do ye propose we should go?"

Rock-Hopper stood over the fallen soldier and offered his hand, easily helping the fallen hero to his feet. He looked at two heroes and to the cloud of smoke that was beginning to dissipate. He shook his head.

"Anywhere we go'll likely be the same mess as 'ere, mate. The bloke back there's built like a brick [censored] house, but I figure I can take him on long enough for you to get help from some of the others 'round 'ere. If not, then, well, I'll see ye at the hospital... I hope."

With that, the penguin-man turned back and jumped into the smoke cloud, armour and mallet at the ready. The muted thumps of something heavy hitting flesh could be heard again and again as the battle between the two giants began.

Stepping out onto the wreckage of the ruined building, Rock-Hopper could only look around in shock. He had seen devastation before, like in Boomtown or Fautline, but it had never really dawned on him that the buildings there had been complete, proper structures. A sharp cry of pain caught his attention. He turned and saw a blackened and blistered arm struggling to push the rubble off of a still-buried body.

Rushing over to help, he threw off the larger chunks of wall and ceiling until finally reaching a young woman. Blood was oozing from charred, cracked skin. She was far too badly injured to possibly survive, but the penguin picked her gently out of the rubble, hoping against hope to bring her to safety.

He could hear from her chest the gurgling of blood from her burnt lungs as she breathed, but she smiled at him briefly, and rasped, "Thank you." She convulsed into a flurry of coughs, blood flecking her burnt lips. Finally, she collapsed unconscious.

Leaving her at the roadside for the ambulance to recover, Rock-hopper knew that she would likely not last the ride to the hospital. Blood and dust now covering his costume, he gently squeezed her small hand and stood, looking about.

The streets were becoming chaotic, with sirens blaring from everywhere as emergency workers raced to help the victims of attacks. From behind him, Rock-Hopper felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see who was there, only to find a massive fist flying towards his head. A massive THING, dressed in the tatters of a paramedic's uniform launched an attack from behind him, and without time to react, Rock-hopper was unable to raise his armor to defend against the attack.

Sent flying, Rock-hopper flew across the street into the side of a building. Standing, he took the chance to coat himself with Ice, summoned his mallet, and turned to the creature that had attacked him.

"It's on now, mate."

Thick ice covered Rock-Hopper's body at Blood Wolffe's warning cry. Spotting the mechanical fliers, he smiled under the gas mask.

"Good. I was hopin' I'd get to have some fun today."

Missiles arced from the machines, detonating on impact with the ice-covered hero. When the explosions had dissipated, the ice had thinned a bit, but Rock-Hopper was unfazed.

"You'll have to do better than those little fireworks to take me out, mate."

The Hoverbot swooped back towards Rock-Hopper, coming in for a second pass. Jumping up, he grabbed its wing as the device was passing overhead. The Hoverbot's engines struggled under the load of its unexpected passenger. Swinging himself up, Rock-Hopper took a position right above the dome-like "cockpit" of the Hoverbot. Securing himself, The hero concentrated for a moment and in his hand materialized a large stone hammer. With one powerful stroke, he smashed the stone mallet into the nose of the Hoverbot.

Electric blue sparks flew as the the hammer smashed open the polycarbon casing and drove into the machine's sensitive sensor pods. To ensure the damage he had caused was terminal, Rock-Hopper followed up with a stony punch into the device's left hoverjet. Satisfied that the damage he had caused would be sufficient, Rock hopper dropped off the Hoverbot's back and landed gracefully on the ground below.

The Hoverbot, now blind and crippled, boosted power to its remaining engine and crashed hard into the side of a nearby building. The machine wrapped itself around a metal column, smashing two windows, then activated a self-destruct mechanism, sending a fiery plume out into the street. Rock-Hopper paused a moment to admire his handiwork, then turned to face the remaining hoverbots.

"Don't worry. There's plenty of that for the rest of you."

"Just out an' about, mate. Heard some yelling out 'ere, thought I'd come take a look. Saw you skulkin' up 'ere, thought you might be dangerous, so I figured I'd check it out. Or check you out, one of the two. Rock-hopper's me name, by the way."

Rock-hopper's gregarious manner, underlined by his noticeable Australian accent, could disarm most people, and even Blood Wolffe had to admit he was intrigued by the large man.

"You mentioned someone lookin' to do you in. From the noise downstairs, it seems this bloke's the most charmin' of the lot. Anythin' I can be a help with?"

The sight of a person on a rooftop speaking to a wolf next to a roof vent was strange enough in any town. In Paragon, "strange" usually meant trouble wouldn't be far down the line. Spotting the pair on the rooftop, Rock-Hopper leapt from his perch on a nearby windowsill and landed heavily next to the pair. Looking like nothing less than a 6 foot tall penguin, from the black and white costume to the gas mask painted emblazoned with an orange bill to the yellow feathered crests above his eyes, Rock-Hopper stood before the man on the roof and crossed his arms.

"Takin' your dog for a walk, are you, mate? 'S a funny path you take." The words were spoken casually, but the scrutiny in the penguin-man's gaze was evident, even from behind the mask.

Name: Rock-Hopper
Powersets: Ice Armor/Stone Melee
Origin: Science

In the 1980's, the growing prevalence of the drug Supes led to panic amongst the world governments. The ability for some addicts to gain super-heroic powers deeply concerned the leaders of capitalist governments. Seeing this as a potential chance for the USSR to get a one-up on such nations as Canada, the United States, Mexico, France, Britain, West Germany, Spain, Portugal, Australia, New Zealand, Egypt, Greece, and Italy, these countries co-operated one massive effort to create their own minor superheroes.

This led to the formation of the "Noah Project". They assembled 3000 of their best military, police, and special service officials, and in co-operation with Crey Industries, developed the "Noah Treatment". This treatment fused together the DNA of two distinct creatures, granting the host creature various abilities such as enhanced strength, speed, dexterity, or resistances to the elements.

For 2 years, these soldiers operated as an elite strike team known as "Task Force Noah". However, a stabilizing agent in the treatment began to break down, leading all of the subects to begin a secondary mutation. For all but 1% of the subjects, this mutation proved fatal. For those who did not die, the mutation granted unexpected powers.

Not wanting to be associated with the deaths of so many people in an experiment as controversial as the Noah Project, the governments and Crey all agreed that it would be best to simply release the remaining subjects to their own devices.

Jason Weathers, a native New Zealander, agreed to represent his country after his commander presented to him the opportunity. He was moved to the United States, and was subjected to the Noah Treatment. He was joined with the DNA of a Rockhopper Penguin, and initially gained an increased lung capacity, an increased resistance to the cold, and an increased jump height.

However, when the secondary mutation took effect, Jason's power spiked dramatically. He became capable of sheating himself in armour made of ice, and gained the ability to form stone gauntlets and mallets from surrounding materials. He took on the name "Rock-Hopper" and decided to hone his skills in Paragon before leaving to return to New Zealand.

Seeing a chance to escape, Corvus quickly took flight towards the open portal. Inches from the event horizon, a hand grasped from out of the darkness, clutching her leg. Effortlessly, the hand tossed her at the reinforced metal wall with a resounding thud. Illuminated by the flashes of light, the hand's owner stepped into view, a hulking black mass of muscles and teeth.

Corvus stood from where she had fallen. With her arms outstretched, she fired off a bolt of darkness at the creature. Unflinching, the creature merely grasped her extended arm and twisted savagely. Gasping at the pain which accompanied the breaking of her arm, Corvus sank to her knees.

The creature, still holding Corvus' broken arm, pulled her to her feet. Leering, it lifted her up and threw her at a nearby console. The console's pedestal snapped as Corvus' body crashed into it, leaving a fountain of electric blue sparks flying where the pedestal stood.

Eyes burned by the bright flashing light of the electricity, the creature howled in agony and covered its eyes. Seeing a chance to escape, Corvus steeled herself to the pain and flew into the portal, arriving beside Mystic Inferno. Finally (reasonably) safe, she collapsed into unconsciousness. A small pool of dark red blood formed at her wrist where the bone had pierced the skin.