Matamoros

The scarred leader of the entourage kept his pace as he walked through the building, gazing at anything worthy of interest. What he really wished to see was the laboratories, but wondered whether or not such a show of corporate force would grant him that. He grabbed his coat and pulled it slightly, checking his sidearm. He had done his research and knew that Ms. Feynman was a registered hero and he wouldn't have much of a chance against her if she decided to physically "escort" them out of the building, especially considering he did not have his infamous "gear" with him...

He came with a pistol and a checkbook, nothing more. He hoped the checkbook would suffice...

Santiago Matamoros, St. James the Moorslayer , the patron saint of Spain that inspired the crusaders of the Spanish Reconquista.

Matamoros, fierce and merciless agent of order that now roams the sewers, rooftops, and back alleyways of Paragon city. Nothing is known about this mysterious enforcer, but there are several theories regarding who he is and where is origins lie.

Conspiracy theorists obsessed with the mysterious nature of Matamoros insist that he is a part of the endless battle between the Church and the Illuminati over control of the human race. They say that Matamoros is a member of the Inquisition, the Church's arm of brute force used in physical battles against the agents of the Illuminati. Theorists have speculated that Matamoros was born in Spain or perhaps a Latin American country. The few that have survived his onslaught recall hearing an obvious Spanish accent when he "passed judgement" upon them. Some theorists go so far as to say that Matamoros is somehow involved with Legion Technologies and Defense Systems, a worldwide weapons manufacturing conglomorate, which, in turn, connects the conglomorate with the Church. This theory is usually passed off by the "experts" as crazy talk by tinfoil-hat toting bafoons.

Another origin theory states that he is an anti-terrorist super-soldier, genetically engineered by a join U.S. and E.U. operation. The West, tired of getting bogged down in political and military conflict, decided to make a small army of super-soldiers to conduct operations against terrorist cells instead of using large, cumbersome, conventional armies. This theory is seen as more reasonable than the Illuminati-Church conflict theory, but it is still seen as improbable by most.

The most commonly believed theory is that Matamoros is just a crazy psychopath who donned hi-jacked power armor from the leading industries in Paragon and is currently on a rampage though it's streets.

I don't play to get away...I play so that I can act out what I cannot be in real life, and that is a super-gun toting super-soldier spanish neo-conquistador that crushes all crime in the city with a ruthless vengeance!

I frankly don't care if people make cat/dog people...I wouldn't necessarily recommend CoH for that kind of stuff, but hey, if they want to pay for CoH (thereby keeping the company in business and keeping CoH in my hands), that's fine with me. Make whatever you want. It's not like I HAVE to rp with you.

Several black SUV's pull up in front of the Physiks building. Out of the front and back limosines, latin-looking men in black suits and dark sunglasses step out. Several move forward and stop at the entrance to the building, two move towards the center vehicle and open the door. A dark haired, lightly tanned skinned man stepped out. He, too, was clad in a black suit and dark sunglasses. One obvious feature was the long scar stretching across his face at a forty-five degree angle, the only thing tainting his otherwise solid roman-esque facial features.

The man took a look at the building and the logo stretched across it before walking to the entrance, flanked by the other men in dark suits, and entering the building. He and his entourage walked past the front desk, being stopped by a secretary.

"You can't just walk in here without an appointment," the secretary declared.

The scarred man stepped forward, a look of aggravation in his eyes. Instead of harming the lady, as she thought he would, he pulled out a business card. "I don't think we need an appointment," he said to her as he held up the card. "I'm from Legion. I think you've heard of us." He placed the card into her hand and kept walking further into the building.

((okay, 'Legion' is 'Legion Technologies and Defense Systems', the largest and well-known supplier of state-of-the-art weapons and defense system technology in the world. It has a rather dubious reptuation because although it does basically make space-aged killing machines, it has also done a lot of humanitarian work through many of it's branch companies and the like. [edit] and I guess you could say that Crey and Legion don't exactly like each other either))

Matamoros was kneeling on the roof of a tall building overlooking the port. He watched as the super group desperately tried to save the lives of those who managed to survive the storm of shrapnel. "Fools," he said to himself, "you know damn well they will be back on the streets in a matter of months, and yet you let them live. These men are mortal sinners and must be damned accordingly." Matamoros stood, crossing his arms over his chest, his crimson and gold cape blowing in the wind. The sun was setting now, the darkness slowly overtaking the city. He would be free to move about as he pleased soon enough.

After assisting the super group defeat some minions and effectively checking his objective was protected, Matamoros dashed between myriads of crates and containers towards the end of the cargo area. Once there, he found a large group of men loading a transport with their illegal goods. He ducked behind the crate and loaded his M30 grenade. Quickly he raised up, firing the grenade into the group. The criminals were all hurled back by the explosion, needless to say, horrendously wounded, if not dead. The grenade sent a loud boom echoing throughout the entire zone, amplified by the metal containers surrounding the explosion.

"You have been found guilty of crimes against order and morality, as well as terrorism against and intent to kill innocents. Your evil reign over Paragon is coming to an end. The agents of order have arrived." Once he had finished his monologue, Matamoros managed to identify the leader by the use of data files sent to him over the comm link. He tied him up to a lightpole so that it would be obvious to Soullll Train and her team when they arrived a few moments later.

Once again Matamoros took his leave, disappearing into the maze of containers.

"Data received. You will receive an analysis within the hour," a voice informed Matamoros.

"Understood," replied Matamoros. His drones had scoured every corner of the apartment and sending every bit of information they could find, from computer data to what items happened to be in the waste bins throughout the place. "So far there doesn't appear to be anything indicating any major sin," Matamoros said to himself. He was sitting in another open sewage drain awaiting the data and their analyses. Matamoros activated his comm link and called for Inquisidor.

"Inquisidor, Matamoros reporting. Reporting preliminary threat assesment on target: Kashaye Parker. She appears to be an innocent to me, completely unaware of the threat her powers truly pose, nor the plans of Crey regarding her 'accident.' Data analysis forthcoming, but she appears to be guilty of no sin against order."

"You know the code. If she is an innocent, she cannot and will not be harmed. Innocents shall be protected. Watch over her according to the code unless further analysis reveals a threat."

"Understood. What of Physiks and their leader, Clarisa Feynman? Do we have sufficient evidence proving her to be a corrupted one?"

"No, nothing immediately damning. Keep an eye on her, however, she is not your top priority at the moment. We have reports from several other Inquisidor agents that suggests Crey covets the targets power even more each day. Make sure their agents do not get near her or her research. It is much too dangerous."

"Understood. Orders received. Matamoros out." He deactivated the comm and looked out towards the opening. It was a bright day. He would have to be careful moving about, even in a city full of strangely clad heroes running about. He was essentially a wanted man for the 'murder' of those thugs. Of course, he didn't consider it murder, he considered it their final judgement and punishment.

Matamoros activated his comm once again, "I need the current location of my target. This is Matamoros." Within seconds coordinates were sent to his helmet interior computing systems. He jumped out of the drain and made his way to the coordinates where, apparently, there was also a crime being commited. "Torquemada," Matamoros said to himself, "we have some work ahead of us."

There Matamoros stood, one rooftop across from his objective. The red and gold cape wafted in the night breeze as he stood silently, 'Torquemada' in his right hand pointed into the air. He looked across the entire apartment building making scans of everything from infrared to x-ray. He had noticed the blatantly open sliding door and was suspiscious. A nice M30 right through that door would do nicely, but he felt she might be able to provide valuable information...unknowingly of course.

Matamoros let the assault rifle hang at his side from the strap and grabbed onto his cape. With an uncharacteristically gracefuly leap he landed lightly in front of the open door. Slowly and cautiously he proceeded into the apartment, immediately looking towards the bedroom. "Good," he thought "sound asleep. Don't worry, I'll be just a moment..." Matamoros pulled a small metal case from one of his many untility packs. Opening the case, several small spider-sized droids were dispersed througout the house, bugging lines of communications as well.

"Now, for you, my beauty," he said to himself, pulling out a small bomb, "where to place you?" He slowly crept into the bedroom, sliding the small bomb behind a bedside nightstand. "A departing gift...once you've told me what I want to know." He turned and made his way towards the open sliding door and vanished back into the darkness.

As Paragon city grew dark, the alleyways and scarcely lit areas emptied of civilian traffic. This gave Matamoros nearly complete freedom of movement through the city by way of the back alleys.

Matamoros made his way through the litter and trash filled ways, kneeling by a dumpster, making sure it blocked the view from the open streets. Within his helmet the data on his target was transmitted to him through the comm links. All of the data was displayed on the HUD on the interior of the visor. He glanced quickly over the address and the hero registration data, as well as several files on her reasearch and connections with Crey Industries.

Matamoros stood back up and is immediately faced by several Hellions.

The apparent leader of the small band stepped forward. "Lookie what we have here, a lone masked freak! Looks like your buddies aren't here to help you 'save the day.'" Several of the underlings chuckled. "Looks like you're not arresting anyone today, or ever, once we're through with you." The small band of thugs drew various improvised weapons, including knives, pistols, and sledgehammers.

Matamoros, very amused by their display, let out a laugh, the metallic, hollow sound echoing down the alleyway. Several of the underlings were obviously unnerved by this. Matamoros reached back and drew his 'friend,' "Torquemada."

"As long as I am in this city, there will be order. You are chaos and cannot be controlled. What cannot be controlled must be destroyed."

The Hellions' eyes widened at the sight of the behemoth of a weapon. Several stumbled back, pleading for mercy. "No wait, I'll go peacefully" was heard from several, but ignored.

The pistol wielders tried in vain to shoot Matamoros, only to find their rounds ricochet off of his chest armor and helmet. Matamoros slowly squeezed the trigger, unleashing a furious storm of hot lead at the now fleeing brigands. They were cut down within seconds.

"Order has been restored." Matamoros raised 'Torquemada,' the barrel still smoking. He released the magazine and pushed in a fresh one.

Down the alleyway a police officer stood wide eyed. The officer pointed towards Matamoros, his hand and finger trembling. "Y...you there! You're under arrest," the officer yelled as he drew his pistol.

Matamoros looked in the direction of the officer and quickly pulled out a grenade, causing the officer to dive for cover and immediately call for backup. Releasing the pin, the grenade was tossed towards the officer, now panicking, but only a smokescreen is released, allowing Matamoros to leap onto the fire escape and flee across the rooftops...towards his target's address.

The next day, the front pages were covered by the story of this 'psychotic vigilante' and unmatched brutality, sparking a debate about heroes throughout the entire city.

"Tonight on Larry King Live we discuss Superheroes of Paragon City. Selfless Saviors or Violent Vigilantes?"

Matamoros had moved down from the rooftops and, remaining undetected, made his way down into the sewers. He traveled down the sewer paths until he reached an open drain. There, Matamoros kneeled and activated the comm devices in his helm.

"Inquisidor, this Matamoros, do you copy," Matamoros inquired, a Spanish accent was easily detectable, although not horrendously thick. "I have delayed my move. The operation has several," he paused, unable to find an apt description, "uh, complications." His voice echoed through the drain, metallic and mechanical sounding as it exited the confines of the helmet.

"What complications," a deep, dark sounding voice questioned in reply.

"Several people have made their way within the vicinity of the targets. I was able to observe them and monitor their conversations, but I felt it unwise to move in with such a concentration of empowered people. It looked like possible 'controller' and 'defender' types. I was unable to verify. How do I proceed." For a few seconds, Matamoros received no answer.

The dark voice spoke up, "Proceed with observation on target number one: Kashaye Parker. Assess her current threat level to the operation. Afterwards, determine priorities at your discretion, according to the goals of the operation."

"Yes, Inquisidor. Orders received, Matamoros out." Matamoros closed the comm link and readjusted the assault rifle on his back. He quickly checked all of his equipment, feeling his utility belts and ammunition packs, then he moved out of the open drain and towards his objective.

On a dusty, sun baked rooftop several blocks away from the Physiks Technologies building, there kneeled an armored figure, Matamoros. There the he had been during the recent developments in the office building, monitoring everything going in, coming out, and any important conversations around it.

He zoomed in closer using the telescopic sight built into his helm. The voices of the Angel and Clarisa came in crackled and with a slight buzz of static as he listened in.

The man shifted slightly in his red and gold emblazened armor, perhaps not the wisest choice of colors for a stealth operation, but then again, he was never really about stealth. He again shifted, this time lowering his shoulder and head to bring the "assault rifle," which he affectionately named "Torquemada," into his hands.

As he moved his rifle, the sun glared off of the scope for a split second. Matamoros immediately moved the gun to redirect the glare away from the building and froze.

"I need to be more careful. If I keep being so reckless they'll detect my presence." Matamoros was becoming slightly vexed. He never liked playing a waiting game. He had originally planned to move in on the building immediately, but decided to analyze the situation and the strengths of each of the newcomers first...