Burning_Brawler_NA

((Prodder's not here. Obsidian Arrow. ))

Windsong moved to run, but her feet were soon encased in ice. She struggled, but it would budge. Marshall Brass was moving toward her, and the flier was nearly on top of them.

"Get out of here. Now!" she yelled. Arrow looked at Striker. He was obviously just as confused. "Get to Atlas Park. She will contact you there."

"She? Lady, I don't know what the hell you're talking about but-"

"Now! They'll explain everything!"

Arrow looked back at the other guy, then at the flier. Suddenly another person popped into existenc and freed them of Brass's webbing. "Alright, both of you coming?" he said, then raced south to the entrance.

Two Mayhem troops that looked somewhat reminiscent of Arachnos Huntsmen stood on the other side of the door, arms crossed.

"Good. You made it," said a voice, but it didn't come from either of the two guards. A man shimmered into view, his face obscured by a dark mask, his black clothing covering him in the shadows of the poorly-light tunnels. "Elitist probably told you the basics of the assignment, but let me give you what he left out."

The man known as Aphex Twin took a picture from the back of his belt and handed it to Thule. "This woman is a known Resistance operative. Marshall Brass recently contacted me, it seems she's in my area. I want her alive if possible. There is a bonus involved if you succeed in that."

Aphex turned to leave, but then hesitated. He looked back at Thule. "One last thing, two others were seen with her. Techno Tyrant tells me that he's been getting strange readings off of them. Be wary."

With that, the stone door slid shut, leaving Thule with only his contract and a picture of his target and underneath that, the beacon that would take him directly to her location in Steel Canyon.

The electricity coursed over the lead soldier. He grunted, then fell backward as the screaming woman pushed him with a wave of kinetic enegies.

At the same time, Soul Striker's kick knocked the remaining solider he had brought with him to the floor, the kick breaking through the armor that had already been damaged by the explosive arrow.

The patrol leader growled and raised his wrist to his mouth. "This is Marshall Brass. I'm requesting immediate back-up to deal with a meta threat."

There was a hiss of static, but Brass seemed to understand it. He pushed himself to his feet, at the same time firing a large mass of webbing to pin down his attackers.

He quickly backed up, and the sounds of a flier could be heard approaching quickly.

"We need to get out of here, now!" yelled the odd woman.

Arrow was currently busy trying to get his feet out of the webbing. "Who the hell ARE you people?" he shouted.

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Are you talking about that little infection that primarily risks teens that is transmitted by sharing soft drinks and/or through kissing? I can't think of the name but I do remember some stuff about it.

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Heeeey, I had this. XD Mononucleosis!

I got it in 6th grade, at girl scout camp.

Judge me as you will. <____<

And this thread idea sounds cool. <3

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*Wonders what girls Ess was kissing in girlscout camp*

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Logic says it was the sodas.

But that's no fun!

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Are you talking about that little infection that primarily risks teens that is transmitted by sharing soft drinks and/or through kissing? I can't think of the name but I do remember some stuff about it.

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Noooooooooo.... >.>

Account sharing.

Now, move along, sir!

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A. I may be able to add some of my newest creations, such as Risen Frost Angel or Entity Restorer to the mix...

Also, Burning, you are a very strange individual. Luckily, I looked it up- The likelyhood of attaining an infection from sharing without the correct protection is only about 67.35%!

If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't guess. You'll probably guess wrong. It's actually a little less innocent than it sounds!

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*Coughs* Ok then, move along people, nothin' to see here.

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Somehow I doubt that. >.>

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LIEZ! Liez and slanderz!

The two of the five odd-colored soldiers turned their mace-rifles on the newcomer. The lead groaned and repeated. "By the will of the Masters of Mayhem, you are both under arrest!"

"Masters of-" started Obsidian. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The Masters-" The soldier was interrupted by a powerful screech. Two behind him dropped to their knees, clutching their helmets.

A woman in what looked like a black jumpsuit with a red skull on the chest dropped down from the sky. She opened her mouth wide, emitting a howl that seemed to shake the very air.

A third fell on the ground, but the lead soldier came forward, swiping his club and nearly clipping her chin. "Are you two just gonna stand there or what?" she shouted.

Arrow blinked, as if waking up, and quickly stood while drawing his bow and nocking an explosive. He quickly fired at the lackey, striking him in the chest.

When the smoke cleared, Obsidian was stunned to see the guy hadn't gone down, and had to duck as a club began swinging close to his head as well.

Act 1: Meet the Masters

Everything has just gone wrong. So many things fell apart. A city of heroes is now just a fairy tale that parents tell children at night to ease them to sleep as they fight back their own tears. Tears shed for lost days.

First the Rogue Isles, then Paragon City. They all fell under their control.

The Masters of Mayhem.

Manipulations, deceptions, infiltration and then destruction from the inside out eliminated Arachnos and placed its soldiers under the Master’s control. Paragon City fell soon after, its greatest heroes defeated by the onslaught. All it took was a new eye looking at the clever game of chess Recluse had been playing with Statesman the last few decades to maneuver things to the outcome the archvillain had been seeking for so long. Too bad he was no longer alive to see it.

People have tried to figure out how this could happen. In the early days, investigations were made by courageous heroes. The Masters have eliminated much of the information about them before their rule, and all those who sought the real story are just as gone.

The other countries have done and will do nothing. A treaty was signed saying that Paragon City now officially belonged to the leader of the Rogue Isles, Elitist. What forced this agreement by the President, is unknown, but he has turned a blind eye to the plight of former citizens of his country.

The neighborhoods and cities were divided amongst the leaders, save the Hive, Eden, and The Abyss. Quick tactical strikes of the Warburg missiles have rendered these places completely radioactive, far, far above the levels safe for beings to exist in. What the Devouring Earth had tried to create was now a barren wasteland.

When who would control where was decided, many of these places had been grouped together, such as Talos Island and Dark Astoria, or Nerva Archipelago and Peregrine Island. Only the strongest members of the Masters were awarded positions of control. The others all served as something like elite security, though more than once someone has disappeared mysteriously, control being handed over to the next Mayhem member in line.

This was the future, bleak and hopeless…

((Here are the rules.

1. No God-Moding.

2. PM me for permission to join.

3. I control the Masters. You control characters made by you.

Characters have two easy ways to enter the thread. Either they are older versions who have lived through these events, or entered via a portal. I'll provide an easy way for that kind of entry later in this post.

If you have any questions, concerns, PM me.))

12 Years Earlier…

A woman did a quick spin-kick that knocked a red and purple armored soldier to the ground. Three more came at her and she quickly took them down with three fast punches. As more came in she swept quickly and knocked them all to the floor.

She smirked as they were medi-ported away. Someone was clapping from the shadows. “Great job, really good. Ya know, if I had known you’d be this much trouble I’d have killed you when I saw you escape.”

Smashing Pumpkin walked out of the shadows the nighttime sky created, orange jack-o-lantern mask and jester’s cape and green, spiked boots and gloves bringing a bright bit of color into the dark alleyway. “Nothing personal, really. It’s just that Elitist doesn’t want any opposition, even if there’s really not much you can do at this point. Now let’s go, Danica, you have a cell waiting.”

Danica crouched low into a fighter’s stance. “Rachel! Run!” The little girl cried out to protest but the look in her mother’s eyes stopped it. She ran towards the abandoned casino, where they always promised to meet.

“A kid? Was that why you left? Hah! Well whadda ya know! Elitist’ll wanna get this one to. Another little assassin for the ranks to keep Void company.”

Danica screamed in fury and kicked out. She caught Pumpkin in the jaw and he staggered back in surprise.

He massaged his chin and saw Danica crouch low. She came at him again in a wild flurry of spinning kicks and punches. He stepped to the side and grabbed her arm, locking it to where she couldn’t attack. She cried out as he applied pressure.

The little girl, no more than four, heard this cry and ran back to her mother.

“You try too hard to impress me ya’ know?” said Pumpkin. Even through the demented, grinning orange mask he wore, she could feel his breath against the back of her neck. He chuckled before planting a light kiss on her cheek.

She felt his grip loosen for a second and twisted free. She came at him with a backhand that snapped his head to the side. Smashing growled in pain and again when she punched him in the stomach. He grabbed her arm and flung Danica into a wall.

“Lady, you just won’t give up, will ya?”

Danica got up and felt the back of her head.

Blood.

She grimaced at the pain and prepared for another strike when she saw Rachel’s scared face in the corner. She stopped, and that moment’s hesitation was all Pumpkin needed to wrap her in tendrils of darkness. They tightened and began pulling her down until she was kneeling, shaking with effort to remain standing. “Now will you come quietly?”

She spat in his face, then fell flat on the ground.

Pumpkin’s wrist beeped, Elitist was calling a meeting. “I don’t have time for this!” He pressed a button and several soldiers came from different corners of the area. “She’s not listening, you know what to do.”

Pumpkin was teleported away and Rachel watched in horror as clubs fell, the sound of her mother’s skull cracking filling the night air.

-------------------

The Present Future…

A girl, no more than sixteen, rose in a cold sweat, shaking from the dream… no… the memory. “Sibyl? Sibyl are you awake?”

An older woman moaned from her cot next to the girl’s and said, “We’ll practice with your powers in the morning. You need just as much rest as Pstorm as Rachel.”

The girl lied down but sleep did not come to her the rest of that night.

-------------------

The Present…

Pokin’ Prodder wandered through Portal Corp.’s halls. His contact sent him down here to fend off an Arachnos attack. All he had to do was make sure the control panels stayed intact and he’d get a nice bonus. He could use it to, his armor was starting to get a little worn.

There was a crash behind him. The hero quickly ran in the direction of the sound, spikes popping out from his skin. He slid the last few steps, skidding to a stop in front of the portal room. An Arachnos soldier was slamming his club on one of the console’s making large dents and creating sparks.

“No, no, no, no, no!” cried Prodder as he flung a spike. It struck the soldier in the back, sending him crumpling to the floor. He leapt into the room just as a group of Crab Spiders burst through a door. He quickly flung an entire armful of spikes, catching all but one.

The remaining Spider ran to the already damaged panel and dug his mechanical arms in, ripping out wires. A very frustrated Prodder yelled in anger, leaping forward and tackling the Arachnos SWAT troop. A few seconds later, a very battered Arachnos troop was brushing himself off and heading back to the console.

He quickly rearranged some of the wires, muttering to himself the entire time. There was a spark as he connected the last one, and the portal blinked to life for a moment. The Crab Spider removed his helmet for a moment, and the smirking face of Dr. Aeon was lit up by the portal’s light.

Aeon heard a groan behind him and quickly put his helmet back on. He held a hand up against his forehead dramatically and said, “Oh no, the great Pokin’ Prodder has defeated me!” and fell backward off the rail, simultaneously activating his teleporter, and disappearing in a flash.

Prodder opened one eye, then another. “Wait a minute… I won!” He leapt to his feet, punching a fist in the air. He looked at the control panel. Everything seemed alright. What his contact didn’t know wouldn’t hurt his bonus…

And so a very satisfied Prodder walked out of Portal Corp., not knowing the trick that had been played.

-------------------

A few hours later, The Obsidian Arrow was racing down the same halls toward his mission, take down a foxy Bobcat. Or something like that…

He watched the portal spark to life, and placed a hand on it. He still was uncomfortable with that short feeling of being in two places as once as he was stretched across the barrier between one world and the next.

He reappeared in what looked like Steel Canyon… But everything was all wrong. The sky was dim, but the sun was high in the sky. All the buildings looked as if they hadn’t been repaired in years. It almost reminded him of the Rogue Isles.

What looked like Arachnos soldiers raced toward him, but something was off about their uniforms. Instead of black, there was a dim purple, and instead of green, a blood-red. Their symbol was changed to, it was a grim skull.

“Halt!” the lead one called. “By order of our supreme leader, you are arrested for heroic activities. Surrender to the will of the Masters of Mayhem, or die.”

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A. I may be able to add some of my newest creations, such as Risen Frost Angel or Entity Restorer to the mix...

Also, Burning, you are a very strange individual. Luckily, I looked it up- The likelyhood of attaining an infection from sharing without the correct protection is only about 67.35%!

If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't guess. You'll probably guess wrong. It's actually a little less innocent than it sounds!

[/ QUOTE ]

*Coughs* Ok then, move along people, nothin' to see here.

I know, shocker, right?

Anyway, I've been holding onto an idea for a new RP thread for a while now, and now that Final Fight is dead.... >.< Well, now there's time.

I wrote the outline and opening post and such today, but then I also thought maybe it's not time. I'd hate for this to go down simply due to lack of interest in joining a new RP.

So I thought I'd get your opinions on this. The thread I've got here is set in Pstorm's apocalyptic future, a future where The Masters of Mayhem rule the Isles and Paragon City.

You could enter through a portal accident which I can set up, or have lived through the events. Players side with the Resistance, is most of these threads tend to have.

This thread actually has a structured story, unlike some of my others, and has a definite end to it that's controlled by the players.

Now that you've read this, tell me what you think.

A.) Sounds fun. Make the thread!
B.) I like it, but don't feel like joining.
C.) Eh. S'okay.
D.) That sucks, [censored] n00b.

Deseca's eyes narrowed. "I suggest you just go back to sleep and save me the trouble of knocking you out myself."

Pstorm stared at the woman's face. She looked so much like mom but... she... just wasn't. Her mind was all wrong. "Where are we?"

Deseca rolled her eyes, then cracked her knuckles, making echoing pops. For a moment, she stood still, but the next thing Pstorm knew a shadowy fist was ramming hard into her stomach, the force of the blow causing her to lose her breath even through the armor.

Before she could retaliate, another dark blow came across the back of her head, knocking her to the floor. Pstorm began to push herself to her feet, but a firmly placed boot pinned her to the floor.

Deseca dug her foot, smiling maliciously. "I guess I was right to get rid of you in my dimension. What a weak little thing you turn out to be."

Suddenly the undead woman was sent reeling backward as a psychic scream slammed into her mind. She gripped her head, trying to fight away the pain.

Pstorm used a burst of air to rise quickly, then kept it moving around her in a fast circle until a hurricane formed around her. While Deseca was stunned she stepped forward and the winds threw the villainess against a wall. Now it was her who was pinned.

Deseca snarled. "You little brat..." Her eyes began to darken as she radiated power. She took a step through the hurricane, then another, then burst forward, gripping Pstorm by the throat. Her armor creaked and cracked, the metal poking into her throat.

The whirling cloud faded as Pstorm used all her energy to try to break free.

***

Void Brawler listened at the wall. He could hear thuds inside it, ones that definitely weren't caused by rats... He pressed his hands to the spot his 'mom' had disappeared through. Why the hell wouldn't the damn thing open?!

Suddenly the wall next to him shattered, throwing dust and broken stone into the air. Void staggered back, covering his eyes. He saw one shape lurch forward, then get thrown back suddenly. A burst of light shot down onto the downed form, and the air began to smell like ozone.

The dust finally cleared enough for him to see her... That girl again! And she was trying to re-kill his mom! Void growled in rage as he charged forward.

Pstorm stood over Deseca, the cloud above their heads charging a massive amount of energy. This strike would be a finishing blow, the psychic knew. A shame she didn't listen to the sound of an enraged mind as it came close enough to slam two shadowy fists directly into her skull.

There was a crack as her helmet split in two. Blood flowed down the side of Pstorm's face as she stared out in shock. Her knees buckled, then she fell to the floor.

Deseca slowly sat up, wiping blood from her nose. She looked at her son. He was breathing hard and shaking, his hands balled tight. She stood and held out both her arms. She embraced Void, stroking the back of his hair and sh'ing him, all the while grinning at the things she had gained these last few weeks.

Nothing could stop them...

"M-mom?"

"Don't worry, she's gone now... That wicked child will never harm you again. No one will, not while I'm here," said Deseca. Even if the words were false, it didn't help this next sight for Void.

The girl was getting up! But she was dead! How? He tried to call out a warning, but his brain wouldn't respond.

Pstorm turned to the broken wall and grabbed a large stone. She slammed it onto the ground, and the old material broke easily, and the shards bounced back into the air. Pstorm spun fast, arms out, a burst of wind rocketing from, sending the dozens of pieces slamming in and through an off-guard Deseca.

The villainess jerked forward, then coughed. Void's eyes widened in horror as he felt the half-decayed blood splatter his face. He watched his mother slide down, then lay helpless on the floor. What life had been brought back into her eyes had faded... She was gone.

The only sound that could be heard was the soft patter of tears hitting a cold stone floor, and all that remained in the room was a girl and her maddened, grief-struck brother.

***

Grime sighed as he watched from the balcony, invisible. The fool girl... If it weren't for him, these heroes wouldn't have made it this far.

When the weather manipulator fell, and the other two were distracted, he had to teleport down to her quickly. The Lich had drawn a small vial and forced the contents down her throat. After the wound on her head closed and she sputtered, Grime stood and teleported away.

He had to admit, the girl pulled off her part quite well at the end though. Now just to watch and see how this amusing bit would unfold...

Void Brawler roamed the halls. He kept himself hidden from sight, it was easier to think that way. Everything about this felt so wrong... Not that anything's ever felt right since his parents died. Why was it always so... so... Ugh.

He stopped as Deseca walked out of the Archmage's chambers wearing something she hadn't been before. It was a suit of armor, black with red patterns dizzyingly twisting and spiraling across. They seemed alive... almost as if it was blood that was flowing, but the color seemed off somehow, and Void would know...

He watched as she walked toward a plain stone wall. He cocked his head, not sure what exactly she was doing. Suddenly she just seemed to step through it. He blinked once, twice, then shook his head.

There it was... that feeling again. Quickly, he ran to where she had gone, keeping the exact location she had walked in his mind. He couldn't miss this. Still invisible, he ran for what seemed like a false wall.

And slammed headfirst.

He fell backward, rubbing what his brain was telling him was a beginning bump.

Blightlord took pride in the strength of his toxins...

***

Deseca walked, no, that's not the right word, she glided toward Pstorm, a malicious smile creeping across her cold, dead face. She ran a pale hand across the girl's cheek. "So you are what that disgusting creature would have become?" When Deseca found out she was pregnant again and gave birth, she took pleasure in crushing the frail, helpless, crying, thing with her own hands.

The undead woman glanced to the armor set in the corner. Even in that short instance, she could tell it wasn't half-bad work. She sighed, then stepped over to her "good" counterpart. She set a hand on the table and felt the moisture. She lifted her hand, squinting at it for a moment.

A loud thud broke her attention. She quickly moved back to the door, cracking it and peeking outside. Void Brawler was lying on the ground, rubbing his head. Deseca cursed softly and shut the door. She would have to wait until the boy left. Obviously she slipped up if he found the door. Close calls like this so soon were not good...

"Hey."

Deseca whirled around to see Pstorm standing in full armor.

"I think I deserve to know what the hell is going on."

The undead kidnappers walked into the halls of the former Legacy Chain base, dragging their prize behind them. Pstorm was moaning faintly, struggling occassionally, but Blightlord had given them a vial of the toxin that was currently affecting the girl's parents. She wasn't faring much better than her father as it sapped away her strength and life.

Grime walked towards them. "I'll take her." The other Lich nodded, vanishing through a pool of shadow in the floor. Grime dismissed the Grave Knight's, then grabbed Pstorm roughly by the back of the neck and led her on.

They entered the room containing her parents. It was firmly sealed so Void Brawler couldn't get in, or even know that it existed, until it was too late. Grime set Pstorm on a table inbetween Burning and Danica, then began attaching her restraints.

It all looked alright, from the outside. Grime turned toward an eyeball that was hanging by its nerve from the ceiling, watching the room constantly, never blinking. He waved a hand in its direction, and it began to look toward the door instead. The Lich loosened the manacle on Pstorm's right arm, then slid the tube that ended in a razor-sharp needle under her back, rather than in her neck where it was supposed to go, the special toxin to suppress her powers now being spilled into the table. It was a slow moving dosage... No one would see it dripping on the floor before this was over.

He did the same to Brawler and Danica, then left the room, a barely suppressable smile on his face as he let the scrying reactivate. If all went according to plan, and everything was timed right, this would be the Lich's greatest scheme yet.

***

Blightlord stepped out of the Archmage's former chambers. Deseca remained inside for now, laying out on the bed. For an organization devoted to good, they didn't mind spending part of the budget on some of the 'finer' things.

He walked down to the holding room, looking inside to make sure all three were asleep. Satisfied, he shut the door and walked down another hall, to a room where a group of Liches were standing over a cauldron, preparing the potion. It wouldn't be much longer now...

I felt myself being pulled. My vision blurred as I felt air rushing by my face as if I were racing at high speed. Suddenly it occured to me, I was.

I skidded to a stop, the boots leaving a trail of smoke behind them and skid marks for several yards. I whistled, smirking at the move. There was a slow clap behind me. I turned to see Mr. Roan coming my way by jetpack.

"Good, good. Unfortunately, you forgot to watch out for pedestrians... again..."

I winced. "How bad?"

"It's a good thing I was following you... You need to learn to focus if you ever plan to use these boots," said my teacher.

I looked down at the boots on my feet. Ten years of research went into these. I have no clue how they work, just that these things are so fast, no one can even see me half the time when I go by. And if I had a cloaking device...

My thoughts were broken as a woman screamed. Mr. Roan nodded in the direction of the sound, his face suddenly grim. I nodded and drew my bow, racing down the alleyway.

The woman was backed against a wall with three men slowly moving toward her, one wielding a knife. I shook my head, nocking an arrow. It flew, impaling the man in the arm. He cried out, whirling away from her.

I took advantage of the other two's moment of shock to let two more fly. One pierced a thug's foot, but the last managed to duck my shot. I sighed. Well, couldn't always get em.

He drew a gun, leveling it toward me. I burst forward, sticking him with a taser before he could blink. The man fell down, twitching.

I flashed my best smile at the woman. Her eyes went wide, then she shrieked. "Get away from me you freak!" She ran so fast, I forgot I was the one with the superspeed.

Another sigh. Crafton didn't have many heroes. Not too many bad guys above common thug level either... Then again, I could see how my costume might freak her out some. It was basically a black helmet and armor with spiked gloves and boots.

Mr. Roan descended behind me. "Good work, but you still have a ways to go. Four more laps around the city perimeter and you can rest for the day."

I groaned, then got to work. Training wasn't so bad, but it would be better if Ryan was still doing it with me. I haven't seen him since he walked out... A lot of the money our parents left behind went into looking for him, but he never turned up... Wonder what happened to him...

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But my beef with this current issue is that every single person interviewed was from the Liberty Server. This was a first, as I always enjoyed reading the thoughts about all the servers from all the players. Plus it made me feel that one day while I'm running around on my tank that I would get stopped to do an interview for the scoop on my home server Guardian.

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I was just sitting at the Black Market late one night when the request for villains to interview was sent out on Guardian. It's not so much a lack of picking other servers, you just gotta be in the right place at the right time, or maybe keep an eye out for the columnists posts on the forums requesting people.

((Ok, so I started this story a while back. I'm posting what I have so far. I'll finish pieces and post em as I do, like Worlds of Confusion is. Enjoy.))

"Kickers, move!" shouts a man. I look over to see him, Hyper-Man, issuing orders to the group as his full metallic suit gleams brightly even in the dim light. Really more of a prison than a suit, since he's trapped inside it...

A red blur rushed by, wind slapping me in the face. Johnny Velocity was leaping forward to slash brutally at the black-clad villains with his claws. I never really asked where he got them.

Fire zoomed past my head, nearly hitting my ear as Burning Brawler attacked from the back of our formation. Several of the villains cried out in pain as they crumpled to the floor. I watched him leap forward, engaging one in a sword duel, the enemy's steel versus one he formed of ice from the thin air.

Java Juggernaut and Violet Tigress, the group's couple. Together they were terrorizing and blasting apart swarms of 'em. I could hardly believe how easy it was to see how scared the villains were, even though their faces were almost completely obscured by black cowls and hoods.

Jack Power was standing in their center, attracting attention, taking slashes from sword and shuriken like it was nothing, not even flinching as one lodged into his thigh and exploded.

I looked down at the bow in my left hand, the arrow in my right, and sighed. What good was an archer next to a team like this? I nocked it, then let the wooden shaft fly. It hit my target, sinking in right between his eyes. I would have smirked at the good shot, but Brawler had just taken four in a row with an explosive fireball.

Showoff...

But we're superheroes. Busting the bad guys and fast is what we do. If I made them all slow down to make me feel better, we wouldn't have noticed the bomb in time.

"Guys, back here!" called a guy in armor and shades. Super Shard. Hyper ran toward the bomb and quickly began entering codes into the panel on his arm. I was about to head back towards the entrance, they had things wrapped up here. But then I saw it... A familiar flash of red and black. A ruby sword sliding smoothly from its scabbard.

Sliding smoothly into my gut.

I tried to cry out a warning, but it came out as only a wet gurgle as blood began dripping from my mouth. My knees buckled and the pain became blinding as he twisted the sword before yanking it out of the wound. The Ruby Blade wiped the blood from his weapon on my cape, then faded from sight as he moved to do the same to my companions, my friends.

My world went dark, and a sensation of cold fingers gripping my skull came over me. I am The Obsidian Arrow. Friend, teammate, archer, hero.

And I am dead.

***

They say that as a man dies, his entire life flashes before his eyes. Maybe it's God's way of showing us all the places we really screwed up so when we're sent into the fire it's not so much of a shock. Or maybe it's just another one of those little tortures we find in life. One last kick as you walk out the door.

Either way, this is still what I saw, everything leading up to my death. In the blink of an eye, I relived all twenty-six years of my life. Though this may seem bad, at least I can be grateful it wasn't boring to watch.

I watched as a small boy ran down the halls, bare feet across the hardwood floors. I watched and smiled. That boy was me. I had to be... four maybe? Yes. Four, six at the oldest. Because I just ran past my parents. I wanted to call out to them, but I couldn't get my voice to respond. They walked away, and I helplessly was dragged along behind the running boy.

Suddenly I felt a strong gust of wind and was knocked forward. It seemed I was about to crash into him, but at the last second, we merged. I was now reliving it, not just watching. I looked down at what I was holding against my chest so tightly. It was an egg.

I remembered now. I found it in an abandoned nest outside. I was going to take care of it, and have a little baby bird of my own. I ran into my room and quickly went straight to my bed. I slid the egg under my pillow for safe-keeping. It would be warm there. Then one day it would hatch and-

A door slammed. My brother was home...

***

I heard his angry footsteps as they thundered up the stairs. Quickly, I slid back by my bed, trying to make myself as small as possible until I saw his shadow go past my door and into his own room.

I lifted my pillow and took one last look at the egg. I smiled, taking a blanket and wrapping it inside. After I was sure it was safe, I ventured outside my room, and straight into my brother.

He looked down at me, and a grin broke out across his face. "You ready?" he asked. Ryan was four years older than me, but we got along alright.

"Yeah," I said, smiling large enough to match his. Today was an odd day of the week. That meant class. Our parents had this weird idea that we should learn Martial Arts, most importantly, weapons. Most parents would have said I wasn't old enough for that kind of thing, but I wasn't complaining.

The two of us ran down the halls. It was a bit of a ways to the training room. Our house was a mansion after all. We went down to the first floor and into the back wing. Mr. Roan was waiting for us.

"Come on boys, we only have so much time today." He was an older guy. Already his hair was turning gray and starting to disappear. I asked him where it went it once and he said as far from loud, annoying children as possible. Ryan said it just couldn't stand the smell anymore. "Now, Austin, Ryan, what did we learn last week?"

I looked down. "Don't point the weapon at the teacher."

"Yes. Fortunately, I can sit down now. However, I think you will be practicing with padded tip arrows for now." Mr. Roan handed me the plastic bow and several arrows. I frowned at the foam tips. What fun is that? "I want you to go over there and practice while I get your brother started." I nodded an sullenly walked to the targets.

I shot a few, hitting the target, if just barely, each time. Most shots hit the outer edge, but it was still good, or at least I thought so. I glanced back to see my brother was still talking to Mr. Roan. Then our teacher walked over to a cabinet, opening it, and grabbed a shining sword. He took an orange, from his back pocket, threw it in the air, and sliced it clean in half. That was the real deal.

Then he took a sheet of leather and wrapped it around the sword edge and pointed at a wooden dummy. Ryan frowned, but went over to the practice bit and hammered at it anyway, following the occasional pointers from Mr. Roan. By the end he was doing more fancy moves. Spins, quick stabs.

I looked down at my little bow and the fake arrows, and sighed. This wasn't half as cool. Still though... I was gonna win. I was gonna beat my brother and be ten times better with the bow than he'd ever be with a sword! I nocked an arrow and squinted hard as I aimed. I let it fly.

And it went straight over the target, bounced off the wall and flew backward, striking Mr. Roan in the head. He groaned as he laid on the floor, out cold. Ryan shook his head, trying not to laugh. "I'd leave. You don't wanna be here when he gets up."

I nodded, running out of the room quickly, glad that no matter what happened, at least my brother would always have my back.

Or at least, that's what I thought.

***

I smiled as a 2D pixellated Italian plumber jumped on the heads of what I thought were pieces of poo. They went squish and I got points. That game was so much fun...

There was a knock on my door. I turned my head as my dad stepped inside. "Your mother and I are going out tonight. Do you want us to bring something back?"

I grinned. Most times my parents had Mr. Jade, our butler, cook for us. "Hamburgers?"

My dad smiled and nodded. "We'll be back in an hour or two. Stay out of trouble, oh, and avoid Mr. Roan. He just woke up and isn't happy. We'll have to talk later about you being more careful if you're going to use real arrows soon."

I nodded, then turned back to my game. Mom and Dad always went out at night, to where I didn't know. My dad shut the door, and I listened as his footsteps went back downstairs. I wish I had gotten up and hugged him, or at least said a real goodbye. I even felt weird. A sense that I was doing something wrong. But I didn't recognize what it was, and didn't realize I had missed my last chance.

Hours went by. I was wandering the house, wondering when mom and dad were going to be back. Ryan passed by, muttering something about his stomach growling. I almost went to go see Mr. Jade to get a snack, but I knew they'd be home any minute now. I could wait.

A few more hours passed and I finally could stay up no longer. I went to my room to 'rest my eyes' for a few seconds and watch T.V. I woke up to Mr. Roan gently shaking my shoulder. "I need you to sit up, boy."

I wearily rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I saw Ryan sitting in a chair across from me. His face was... confused. "Boys, this may be hard to hear at first, but you need to know. Your parents are dead."

I stared, confused. Dead? My mouth hung open, my lip trembled as my brain tried to understand that. I would never see my parents again? Tears began welling up in my eyes as I looked down.

My head snapped back up as there was a crash. Ryan had grabbed his wooden chair and thrown it across the room, where it hit the wall. His face was red and tears were flowing freely.

"I know this isn't easy, children, but-"

Ryan stormed out of the room. Mr. Roan quickly followed, worried my brother would hurt himself. I reached under my pillow and grasped the egg. I held it close, closer than an even smaller child would cling to a stuffed animal. How could they do this to us? How could they just leave like that?

I looked up. I hadn't even really said goodbye. The tears began to blind me now. The whole world was becoming a blur as I spun and landed face-first into my pillow. I cried myself back to sleep, feeling my entire world end. Nothing would ever be the same, I thought.

How right I was...

***

I woke up to a boom of thunder. Everything was dark, and I was still holding the egg close to my chest. I sat up, wiping the moisture from my tear-soaked pillow off my face. I looked over to see Ryan’s bed was still empty.

For a minute, I forgot why I had been crying. I had an odd sense as if I were in a dream, but then it all rushed back to me, hitting me like a car running down a highway. I felt sick for a moment, and wanted to fall back onto my pillow. But I had a stronger feeling than my child-grief.

Loneliness.

I got out of my bed, bare feet going numb on the ice-cold wooden floors. Quickly, I ran down the hall to find my brother. It was a big house, but I knew where he went when he was upset.

I hurried downstairs and up to the door of Mr. Roan’s dojo and slid the oriental screen door aside. There was my brother, hacking away furiously at the wooden dummy. He was covered in sweat. He must’ve been at it the whole time…

“R-Ryan?” I said, stepping in slowly. He looked at me, his eyes full of anger, as if all of this was my fault. For a moment, tears came into my eyes and my lip quivered, but I managed to hold it back. It didn’t help that he didn’t respond though. “I woke up… I’m scared.”

He looked at the egg I was holding, then back up at me. His face went calm. He even seemed to smile a little. Ryan walked toward me, a hand out. I stepped toward him also, expecting he’d help me back to our room. It was so dark in there at night… Mom asked Ryan to sleep in the same room because I got so scared. Dad didn’t believe in night-lights.

I held out a hand for him to take, but he reached past it and ripped the egg from my arm. I cried out as he held it above me, higher than I could jump. Tears began flowing down my cheeks. “Give it back!” I shouted. I saw his hand whiten with strain, then heard a crack. Yoke spilled down onto me. The baby bird… It was… and he… “I HATE YOU!” I screamed.

I swung my fists at his middle, but Ryan was bigger. He grabbed my head as I rushed at him and threw me behind him. I skidded to the floor and scraped my elbow. I didn’t try to get back up.

Our eyes locked for a minute. There was a stillness, and years later, I would still feel that sixth-sense twinge that tells you your life is at an important crossroads. My brother, ten years old, walked past me and grabbed his sword. He walked toward the cabinet where Mr. Roan had kept it, and slammed the pommel down, breaking the padlock. When did he get so strong?

Ryan threw open the cabinet doors and grabbed the scabbard. He ripped off the leather cover on the blade, shoved it into the black case, then slung it on his back. It was almost as tall as he was. He’d look silly if it weren’t for the look on his face, the hate in his eyes.

And then my brother walked out. I didn’t know it, but I wouldn’t see him again for a long, long time.

Statesman: Hey, Recluse?

Lord Recluse: Yeah?

S: Yoink! *Pulls down helmet over eyes*

LR: CURSE YOU, STATESMAN!!!!

<------------ Blightlord

That was great!

Oh, one thing that I find helpful lately is when you're typing a character's dialogue, try to speak with their voice inside your head. You'll end up choosing the ways you form your sentances differently for different types of characters.

[ QUOTE ]
While I like those stories, Brawler, this is a different backdrop.

Still, it's in the spirit of what the thread is supposed to be about.

[/ QUOTE ]

I figured having Burning's, Danica's, and Blightlord's Praetorian counterparts was good enough reason to shamelessly plug the story.

((*Cough*))

Worlds of Confusion

(( ))

[ QUOTE ]
It's the end of the world, and I don't feel fine.

I never realized that my goth wardrobe could be considered survival gear, but you have to admit, a standard outfit of black clothing and combat boots is pretty handy in the event of a sudden zombie uprising. Sure, my black lace veil will never be the same, but I'm alive, dammit.

[/ QUOTE ]

Lol, PalPal. Nice one. Funny thing is I'm headed back to Florida this weekend.

The school was quiet. It seemed almost as if all of the children were out, leaving only the faculty behind. Dangerous heroes, but this would be quick, especially since there weren't many left behind to sound the alarm.

A Lich watched as his four Grave Knight bodyguards moved toward the gate, all cloaked in the deepest shadow. He snapped his fingers and they froze. That would be unnecessary. He spoke the words of a spell, and they rose in the air, flying over the walls of Golden Eagle. No alarms went off yet... The spells Grime had cast on them before they left were holding well.

They cautiously moved toward the girl's window. The divination spell had led them correctly. They watched as she sat on the bed in civilian's clothes, gazing into a small storm cloud in her hand. This would be far too easy...

The Lich whispered the words of another spell, and the window latch unlocked. She still didn't sense them... So far, so good. The undead sorceror tried a spell to put her to sleep, but it wouldn't take hold. Her defenses were too strong, even without the armor...

The Lich nodded to his Knights. The rotting warriors grinned big, rotting smiles before they launched into the room, tackling Pstorm and taking her by surprise. Before she could call out, a sword pommel came down on her head, knocking her unconcious.

The Lich glided into the room, smiling as well. "You two carry her, and you two gather the armor." The Knights did as they were told, and the group was soon flying over the gates of Golden Eagle High with their prize. As soon as they left the school boundaries, the Lich grabbed a bone from inside his robe. He broke it in two, and the snap was accompanied by a flash as they were teleported away.

This expansion sounds amazing! This is the most awesome thing I've seen happening for the game. It almost goes beyond words how excited I am.

Can't wait to see this thing. This update is just what I needed to renew my interest in the game.

Blightlord and Deseca left the room together, both feeling satisfied with the torment they had just put the heroine through. It made the effort all worthwhile in the end to see an enemy squirm, see hope draining from their eyes. Still, Deseca knew that all good things eventually came to an end. "Shouldn't we simply kill them?" she asked, walking her fingers up his chest.

"No. I need their bodies and souls intact. Until we take the girl, I cannot proceed with the plan." Blightlord walked into the Legacy's library. He'd taken the liberty of adding a few of his own tomes to the collection. He could sort out what was useful and what was garbage when he was through later. As the master of undeath held out his arm, one of his own books glided toward him. As he gripped the back, it opened itself to the page its master wanted. "I had almost forgotten about this ritual. It is very old, one not tried since medieval times. Finally, I have a way to truly profit from my revenge."

Deseca looked over Blightlord's shoulder. The drawing looked like ghosts being sucked into a cauldron. A man in robes stood behind it, wavy lines rising above him. She tried to read the words on the page beside the picture, but the language was ancient. She hardly understood a word.

"When all four of them are together, then in one quick strike I will take them all and their power. Nothing will stop us then. No Statesman, Recluse, or Elitist will be able to stand in our way."

"Four?" asked Deseca, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes. Brawler, the warrior, and their children."

Her eyes widened, but only for a moment. "You mean you're going to kill Matt?"

Blightlord turned to watch her for a moment, paying very close attention to her movements. Deseca knew she wasn't keeping control of herself as best she could. In the last few days, she had grown attatched to her other-dimension son. Closer to him than the pathetic "good" one she used to have... She couldn't lose this one. This dimension's Matt was her true son, and no one would harm him.

"If there's a problem..." Blightlord began.

"No. No problem at all." Deseca slid forward, embracing the rotting man. She knew this wouldn't erase his doubts, but it would stall him. And she could stall him even longer. Deseca had told herself she'd rather not take things this far, not for a long time, but it was to save Matt. Sometimes one has to make sacrifices. She lightly grabbed his arm, dragging him from the library to the room that used to belong to the Archmage.

***

Grime watched with disgust as his master was led away by that disgusting [censored] husk. Ever since they had brought her to life, things were not working according to plan. She ruined everything, and Blightlord didn't see it. He believed it was because of her they had gotten this far!

No. It was all due to the work he, the Lich, had put in. Without his spell-work, they never would have been able to take over this base, never would have held half the hero family captive, never would have successfully dispatched the forces that were moving in to kidnap the girl even now as she slept in her bed at Paragon City's precious hero school.

Blightlord wouldn't be made to see with reason. Not while she was by his side... No. Grime had to take things into his own hands if he wanted to remain close to the power. When the time was right, everything would seem to fall apart. Then Blightlord would see. He would see how this 'Deseca' destroyed their chances at victory. Then the heroes will destroy her, and they will escape justice once more, and the planning can begin anew. Everything would be back to the way it was.

Just as it was meant to be.