TheSoviet

Ramier surveyed the others with an air of a man who would really prefer to go it alone.

Nonetheless, to win, he'd need a teammate, and so he searched for anyone left that was somewhat skilled....

---

Rulaag silently nodded to Ozell, stepping up the gangplank with the methodical steps of a calculating mind.

The air on Peregrine was calm and still as Tactical Commander Samuel Reikoff and Elite Gunslinger Curtis Richardson walked the halls of their hidden fortress, greeting a passing couple of TacOps with frosty puffs of speech in the chill of winter. They had just returned from a successful capture operation in which a hero known, strangely enough, as “XxREAPERxX” was apprehended. They were strolling down the open front hallway of the fortress, headed for the interrogation room, when the first boom resounded off of the walls.

“What was that.” Reikoff breathed as more of a command than a question. Curtis quickly moved to a computer terminal on the wall and accessed security feeds.

“Looks like a…”

He was interrupted mid-revelation by the second thunderous booming, which literally sent both the TacCom and the Gunslinger to the floor.

“What the hell was that?!” Reikoff roared, rounding up two Tactical Operatives and his Gunslinger ally and charging into the base.

When he opened the front door to the main hallway, he expected the worst.

Strangely enough, everything seemed normal. Save for the panicking soldiers, there was no structural damage, no fires, nothing.

It was then that Reikoff decided that the boom had been a decidedly familiar sound.

“The Kronos Bay! Now!” He snarled at a nearby Tactical Engineer, who quickly activated the bases’ teleport matrix, bringing the entire group right outside of the access hallway to the massive Kronos Titan hangar. Reikoff moved for the door and ran smack into it – He could hear the auto-open motor whirring, but it was somehow stuck.

“What is going ON here?” Reikoff snapped, but Curtis would soon enough find out for them, the cowboy having produced a crowbar and set to work on the struggling door, prying and pulling on it, trying to break it open.

“Gul-durn’d thing’s busted as a Bandit’s leg.” The ‘Slinger mumbled as he was forced to place his feet on the wall to pull at the door.

Slowly but surely, he seemed to be making headway –

But then he was forced to jump off of the wall to avoid his own crowbar, which had suddenly grown so heavy that as it crashed down with a bang, the floor groaned under stress.

The floor panel in that hallway was designed to hold up to a Hercules Titan along with six biological troops.
“Screw it.” Reikoff spat, “I’m getting us in there.” The TacCom proceeded to swing one of his dozens of weapons – This one an experimental railgun – to bear, blasting the bulletproof and explosion-resistant door straight apart by firing the hypervelocity round into its’ inch-thick glass.

The group ran inside to find their worst nightmare confirmed.

There stood the Kronos Titan, fire being poured into it from all sides, beating down its own hangar door, trying to…escape?

“Well, well, well, Boss, knew you were skilled, but didn’t think you’d make it here so quick.” Came a smirking tone that immediately made Reikoff want to shoot its speaker –

If only its speaker had not been Marcus Marcone.

“Yep.” The Engineer continued, lighting a Cuban and grinning at them. “Knew I’d signed up with the right crew. But unfortunately, yous guys have run outta usefulness to the Family.”

”The hells are you on about, Marcone?” Reikoff snarled, his railgun raised and pointed at his long time friend’s head.

“Awh, c’mon.” Marcus sighed, flicking up one hand and sending the gun into the ceiling.

In that instant Reikoff knew he’d reactivated his consigliore cybernetics.

“Boss, Curtis, yous guys have been great pals. I don’t wanna hafta kill ya, believe me. I still respects yous two. But I gotta go, y’dig?”

“Why, Marc’s?” Curtis cocked one eyebrow, flipping his pistols through his hands. “Why’s ya gotsta be doin’ this ter yer ol’ pals?”

“’Fraid I can’t tell yous two.” Marcus shrugged, “But, ah –“

And in that instant, Reikoff knew there was something Marcus had been hiding.

Especially so when Curtis grabbed his head with a shocked yelp, falling to his knees in pain.

Marcus was psychic.

“Surprised, boss?” Marcus smiled, knowing that while Curtis had left his off, Reikoff’s helmet would most likely track his mental signature and kill him if he tried to attack him with a psychic power.

“Well, yeah.” Reikoff returned, seemingly unphased, “I suppose that would be why you remember your original plans, even though we wiped your mind.”

”Ayup!” Marcus chuckled, “Yous is real smart-like, Reikoff, I always respected ya brains.”

“And I always respected your honor, Marcone.” Reikoff shot back, resting his hands on his own double pistols.

“But I don’t get it…how didn’t we know?”

“Turns out yous guys wipin’ my upper mind plus my consigliore cybers kept it a secret that I was a mutant all dis time, heheh.”

“You [censored] scumbag.”

“Ah, c’mon, boss.” Marcus rolled his eyes, glancing over only for a second as the Kronos made a giant hole in the hangar, making the base shudder and rumble.

Reikoff smacked a wall – A panel extended, and he quickly tapped one key.

Nothing happened.

In the distant sky, a powerful bomb exploded.

“Nice try, Boss.” Marcus shrugged.

The Kronos’ jet-boots ignited, and it slowly began to lift off.

“Marcone, you worthless spineless traitorous [censored].” Reikoff snarled viciously.

“Heh heh, sorry, Reikoff.” Marcus snickered, grabbing a hold on one of the arm-mounted footrests the Titan extended, reserved for emergency manual control only.

“Family ties.”

Reikoff didn’t respond, only sending out a blazing hail of bullets after Marcus as the Titan suddenly accelerated, carrying both it and the traitor away.


“And our top story tonight – A Malta Group Kronos Titan was seen soaring into the sky last night. Eyewitness reports describe the beastly machine as ‘Horrific’ and ‘Heartstopping.’ But here’s the big one, folks – The Titan was seen, by multiple spectators, including one cameraman, as disengaging its thrusters and falling into the ocean – And adding to the great fears of the populace, it exploded catastrophically, making the second sky-based detonation over Peregrine in one night. The resulting shockwaves shattered windows and bent telephone poles for over a half a mile’s radius. These explosions lead many to believe that some sort of power struggle has emerged in the Malta Group, but only time will tell.”

Emil Marcone turned off the television.

“Where is he?”

”Dun’ worry, boss, Marcus’ choppa’s comin’ in now.”

The beating of rotor blades could indeed be heard, and Emil and the Underboss set off for the roof of their Port Oakes skyscraper.


Marcus emerged from the jet-black Super Puma transport helicopter right as the two made it up to the rooftop. Several armed Family guards surrounded the helipad, pointing tommyguns around like the toughs they were.

“Marcus. You made it. Not ‘zactly subdl, eid’r.” The Underboss grinned at the (Newly re-established) Consigliore walked down the steps of the ramp.

“Well, you know me. I don’ do that stealthy [censored].”

“Heheheh, das Marcus.”

“Quiet yous guys. Marcus. This is it. Yous mission’s ober. Please, tell me you gots da package.”

“’Course I did.”

The ex-TacEngineer jerked his thumb back to the helicopter, where two Button Man Gunners were unloading a large black metallic case.

Emil’s eyes widened to the size of golf balls. “Can it be…?”

The Gunners pried open the lid, revealing none other than the brain of the Delta Four Titan, along with its immensely powerful cybernetic uplink tech.

“My God…It is…”

“Marcus…you…”

“Yeah, I know.” Marcus smirked, “I’s da best, o’ course. Dere ain’t none better dan Marcus Marcone.”

“Ey, goon!” Emil snapped at the Underboss. “Get dis stuff to our Black Market techies NOW, dammit! We’re gonna rebolusionize underworld cybernetics wid dis stuff!”

The Underboss complied.

“An’ wud about you, Marcus? What now?”

”Ah, what else, Boss?” Marcus Marcone, master of deception, technological genius, and mutant at birth smiled, “I’m gonna start up my own racketeerin’, gonna start pushin’ my own ‘dyne, time fer me to start SHOWIN’ these fools dat I’m fambly f’ life!”

And there was grinning and cackling and the consumption of the finest wines, and Marcus was gone, taking the first helicopter to Mercy to start his operations from the bottom up….

"Very well, knaves, commence operation 'Snakebite.'" Agent Drechi growled to his elite Angel of Death Mercenary team, the crack troopers smacking in the clips to their SCARS and AR-15s, Captain Vasquez rotating the drums of his large combi-rifle to a 'flamethrower' configuration.

Suddenly, but skillfully, the two Special Operatives Drechi had brought ducked into the shadows, skulking past the numerous guards quietly and professionally -- To the front door. The pitch black of the clear winter's midnight allowed the operatives to professionally sneak to the warehouse door. There was only one problem - They couldn't get the door open to the front. It had been jammed and jarred off of its rolling tracks - There was no way in hell the men would be getting through. What was worse, the Special Operatives were now in no position to reach the back door.

But Drechi had a plan already.

"Hose them." He growled simply to Omaro, his SMG-armed Medic, and the two Angel Riflemen he'd brought, who immediately complied - They stood, flicked off their safeties - One of them grinned, but in the heat of the moment, none saw it - And they quite literally sprayed a wall of bullets into the alley, the clattering and cracking of their rifles bouncing across building walls and turning the entire place into a wailing den of noise. At the other end, the SpecOps began firing gas grenades into the warehouse through the windows, creating a mass panic effect.

And Drechi quietly entered through the back door...

---

Drechi entered the gas-filled warehouse calmly, his natural immunity to such pitiful human chemicals allowing him to shimmy unhindered up the side wall of the building. Administering himself a powerful steroid, he suddenly had the strength to rapidly jump and climb from ceiling-bar to ceiling-bar, until he was directly over the boss of the enemy operation - and the safe.

"Now." He breathed as he let go of his hold and fell down on the Boss' guard, crushing him.

At his utterance, the same back door he had silently entered was the source of a cacaphony of gunfire and grenades, the distraction just enough to divert the Boss' attention as Drechi splashed him with an incredibly powerful (And painful) truth serum.

"Tell me the code." He calmly ordered. The Boss obeyed.

Drechi had recovered his 'Neurospike' nerve agent.

"Let us go, you fools!" He yelled to his Mercenaries, hosing one of the approaching guards with his own Assault Rifle and taking off for the back door again.

He looked up. The Angel's Blackhawk helicoptor transport was just coming down, the M60 on its side liberally spraying the last few guards in the Alley. All of his crew besides Captain Vasquez were already onboard when Drechi jumped on - And that changed shortly as Vasquez, still firing into the Alley, backpedalled to a sitting position on the floor grate of the helo.

"Get us out of here!" Drechi hissed, and the pilot complied.

And just like that, Drechi was gone.

[ QUOTE ]
((OMG AWESOME.))

((And that's about the only coherent thing I can form right now about it!!))

[/ QUOTE ]

QFE.

Suddenly, in a billowing wind and a thick mist, Rulaag appeared with cracks of thunder, flanked by two Shivan Decimator Bio-Warriors.

The Alien said nothing, only looking around for Ozell....

((Team: Ozell One - 14/15 now (never can remember at low levels), Agent Rulaag - 15

Team name: Viper Corps (It'll make more sense later.)))

---

Ramier's entrance was just as pronounced, his giant Assault Bot crashing down with a thundering boom and the Soviet arriving in the blazing flash of a group-teleport with the rest of his robots.

((LFT <_&lt)

((OMG AWESOME.))

((And that's about the only coherent thing I can form right now about it!!))

Diov wins the thread.

THIS TIME.

Stop fight.

((I'm gonna post, gimmie time. Low board access lately))

O___OWUT

You have my permission to use any one of my myraid characters.

Bear stumbled in out of the cold, a Sting Agent following him in, and promptly running the hell away at the sight of all the villains at what Will had promised would be a great party.

"Pussies, I swear." Bear shrugged at his fleeing comrade.

"Rosie!" He yelled, "Hey!"

---

"Target sighted."

"What is the plan?! Shall I infect them? Do we want to see them bleeeeeed?"

"Agent Drechi, I calmly request you cease your insanity." Miich growled, making a facial expression that would accompany the rolling of his eyes, if he could roll them."

"I will take this one."

"You are positive you can handle it?"

"Of course."

"Very well, Scorpion Rulaag, best of luck."

And with that, the two Osh'Kan Mercenaries became wisps of mist in the wind, flying off to their next target.

Rulaag set down his binoculars, and under the cover of a heavy veil of snow, stalked closer to his targets..."

---

"Ah hah!" Rulaag yelled, jumping suddenly from the thick snow that had suddenly surrounded Essex's group, and landing next to them. "I have located you!" The Alien yelled triumphantly as the snowstorm began to subside. "Ah, greetings, Mecha Solid Shot." He nodded to the Assault Drone, then turning to Essex and Hallucinogen and taking a step back.

"I only seek some...Christmas Cheer, yes? I have relayed to you that they entertain me. And I have decided that, since Drechi is accepting only double payment for our latest operation, that I may take a short break to rest myself."

He didn't seem to have much else to say as he watched the shrouded boy and the robotic girl expectantly, amused greatly by such things as love.

((EPIC.))

((FUKKEN EPIC.))

((You broke my respect-o-meter. It's not supposed to go that high. ))

"Haw haw, meri kriztmuz tro'boyz!" Prikker yelled, as Snikker backed the truck slowly into position.

"DYNE FUR EBRIASH!!! SOOPA TROLL TYM!"

And the 18-wheeler's backside opened, and literally thousands of pills of varying sizes spilled out of the back. The Trolls let out a howling cheer.

---

"Did you hear that?" A Brick questioned the Volt standing next to him.

"That can't be good."

---

Marcus puffed on his cigar.

He'd taken the weeks around christmas off, and he was now merrily seated at his Family Table.

The fellows surrounding him were all carrying large automatic weapons.

"Ey, 'eres to da Marcone fambly!" An Underboss toasted.

"H'zah!" A line of Button Men cheered.

"Here here!" Marcus yelled, grinning.

He loved the holidays. It was such an innocent time.

---

Curtis ambled through the snow, his Gunslinger's cowl blowing in the bitter wind.

"Always the damn cold...Always the damn cold...."

He rounded the corner and suddenly practically dove into a nearby nondescript building.

The smoky interior hid a small bar, filled with two-bit thugs and evil elites alike. A Skull scooted over at a harsh glare from the 'slinger, who took a seat.

"Bill!" He yelled down at the bartender, "Gimmie th' special! S'damn cold out thar!"

---

Reikoff yawned as he walked across Peregrine, the Delta Four and a Malta team surrounding him. The infantry looked around, and saw no supers for miles. Only a few Carnival stood on the corner.

"Wonder how they don't freeze in them skimpy outfits." One TacOps shrugged, his speech making wispy puffs.

"Bein' cold's a state of mind, [censored]." An OpOfficer growled, "And they's all psychic. So they don't get cold."

"Hey, shut it back there!" Reikoff snapped, "I didn't take you idiots on patrol for you to chat! Keep it moving!"

((More to come ))

I remember in tells, I told you the last ending left me saying [censored].

This ending left me saying OMGWTF.

O_O

+infinite

((Oh snap Jordan's in it! Ramier's so for this now...))

Name:Ramier Khastrovitch
Level:33
Global:@Soviet
Primary:Robotics
Secondary:Traps

Ramier, the Raging Russian, the Stoic Soviet, grinned evilly as he stared down the notice that one of his units had handed him.

"One wish? One wish." There was practically a spring in his step as he moved throughout the Serial Killer's base, grabbing his most poisonous bombs, canisters full of caltrops, huge packages of web grenades, everything and anything that would give him an edge in his fight. His robots tromped and crashed through the halls, the steel soldiers seemingly eager to cause some damage themselves.

"I dislike associating with common two-bit mafia men, you understand." He explained to his younger self, who wasn't interested, "But one wish? Comrade, you do know the wish I will wish for, of course."

"Da."

"So-long to capitalism...."

---

Name:Agent Rulaag
Level:11(Inches from 12, may be 13 by then)
Global:@Soviet
Primary:Storm Summoning
Secondary:Radiation

The clicks grew in intensity. Drechi's manic chatter, Miich's calm deliberations, and Rulaag's eager snickers melded in the strange Osh'Kan language to a level that could nearly disorient the untrained ear. A free wish -- Well, certainly, there would be fighting, but that was what they were bred to do!

After many fierce deliberations, it was decided that Rulaag would be the one to bring the human fighters to their knees, and after even further deliberation they settled on their demands, (Or wish, whatever the humans may have called it.)

One-hundred percent of the proceeds of all further Carlucci operations.

It was time to strike it rich.

((IMMA JOIN, Gimmeh time.))

[ QUOTE ]
((Think classic console boss battles))

[/ QUOTE ]

((Alpha: >_&gt)

"YEEHA" Alpha yelled, backflipping and dancing all around the shockwaves, seeming to enjoy himself immensely. What was scary about it was the fact that he was firing highly accurate shots, even mid-jump.

And he didn't look like he was about to run out of bullets.

---

Bear rolled his eyes in annoyance and hit his Wyvern-Issue jetpack, bombarding the Consumed with freezing arrows to encase and slow him.

Alpha threw his entire upper body backwards and riddled the area in front of him with bullets...

---

Bear looked at Alpha's Consumed, sighing in great annoyance.

He fired a glue grenade at the ground near them, which he knew (Or hoped) Alpha's boots wouldn't stick to. However, it should slow the Consumed down...

WOOOHOOOO! *Clapclapclap*

Was five stars all the way, man.

Bear took it and shook hands with a firm nod, his face hardening back to that of a fighter.

"Understood, commander."

Bear stared down Cortianna and Richter in turn with his one-eyed gaze of pure malice and hate, and then turned to Rosalind, nodding.

As they walked to the spot they had chosen to speak at, Bear's features grew less hard, the permanent sneer curled onto his face slowly unwound into a neutral expression. They reached the spot and Bear sighed.

"You know," He began, "I've always had idols. Always needed someone to look up to, when life went to [censored]. When my family got whacked. When the Wyvern Rebels rose and fell. It was the Wyvern Group for me...And then it was the Overmagus. But you and your partners...Were the most famous Rebels I ever remember. You never backed down, and you guys could always beat what the Overmagus sent out..."

"And then, back there, I was about to kill my Hero. That'd be like...Like, a Kid accidentally killing...I don't know. It's worse than that. I couldn't go through with it......"

"I had originally joined the Inqusition to be a spy, you know. But all the power...Our sheer might. I was uniting the world under one order, but -- I forgot my original plan. The Overmagus has left his mark. I'm meaner and colder than I've ever been, but...You've made my remember my goal."

"...I want to help...the woman I look up to. My Hero."

His remaining eye slowly began to water.

"That's all."

---

Accelerating to 300 M.P.H.

E.T.A. is Fifty Six Minutes.

The Oranbegan was reduced to tears as Rulaag repeated crashed his unprotected face into the rock wall next to him.

"Where is your leader, Oranbegan Brotherhood slave?!"

"N..never te-"Fhcrack!

Rulaag turned away from the now brain-leaking minion of the Oranbegan forces.

"Then we have no more choice. Scorpions, retreat to the Dropship. Steel Caste overseer, please, remove yourself from the area."

---

His men were clear. Rulaag looked around and snatched an incoming crossbow bolt deftly from the sky.

"Infidel Caste knaves" He uttered, and slowly but steadily, the sky darkened to black. There was no light anywhere in the abandoned French town, save for the glowing eyes of some of the Oranbegan warriors as they watched in fear.

Twisted energies slowly seeped up from the ground itself as the air grew hot enough to melt buildings, and suddenly, Rulaag thrust his fists down, and the entire town disappeared in a blinding and explosive wave of heat and power.

((Atomic Blast.))

---

Rulaag appeared from the blackened ground to the safe place his comrades had waited. Miich clicked his radio.

"These are the Scorpions. The Oranbegan Brotherhood coven has been obliterated. Requesting orders...."

---

"What will we do about Lt. Bear?"

"The Archer?"

"Who else?"

"I know not. He was deft and skilled with an arrow, but these heretical actions are unforgiveable."

"But how do we stop him?"

"Did Rulaag and his mercenaries not bring that strange biotank?"

"The...ah...Osh'Kan War Walker, they called it. I don't know. Why?"

"Order it activated."

---

Out in the countryside beyond New Mu, a nondescript grassy field suddenly quaked and split as a giant beast that could only be described as looking like this , save for completely biological, shot from the ground and activated a reactive camouflage, hurtling through the air towards its target.

---

Bear had trudged on for a while before he suddenly cast his bow back for Recluse to catch. "There, I'm unarmed. I got stuff to tell the commander about, and I swear to [censored] god if you listen in to it I will break you." He added this with a steel-melting stare at Cortianna.

"Permission granted...?"

Reikoff: HEADSH--Wait, no, damnit.

---

Miles away, on Peregrine Island...

"What the [censored]?!" "Corporal Alpha, what's wrong!" "...Somethin' ain't right, yo."