TheSoviet

((*Hangs head*))

((Are we starting next to our teammates?))

Curtis hissed and covered the red light with his arm as he stalked.

Curtis blinked.

With a click, his thermal vision activated, and the Gunslinger slunk down to a crouched walk, his black clothing making him incredibly hard to see, and his trained steps making him incredibly hard to hear.

((And no, Gunslingers don't wear the super glowy green goggles, he's using thermal goggles with plain black lenses. So don't say you see those.))

[ QUOTE ]
I like Prikker, but I have alot of trouble reading the Troll speak he uses. Any chance of getting a translation guide?

[/ QUOTE ]

Gah, just caught this. Ah well, gives me an excuse to show off my guild o' greatness.

Ladies and Gentlemen.

Boys and girls.

Urukz agh Fe-urkz.

Shadowclan and its language.

((EDIT: Also read this. ))

((HOOWAH!))

[ QUOTE ]
like your elegance

[/ QUOTE ]

Hooyeah!

[ QUOTE ]
one-dimensional,

[/ QUOTE ]

Oh no!

[ QUOTE ]
tend to be very effective and entertaining anyway

[/ QUOTE ]

Hooyeah!

Hal, I gotta say, you go about things in an excellent way. From Hal's inner conflict to Schizo's outer, you keep your characters well with the plot and are always balanced.

Tiptop, mate.

Curtis stepped into his staging area, fiddling with some canisters of teargas. Reikoff tossed him one more weapon - A bundle of EMP grenades. He was ready.

((He's not going to fight. He just REALLY wants to.))

"Curtis." Reikoff called, "Head out."

((*Blinks*))

Master: Samuel Reikoff. Damned if he won't fight at some point. Tactical Commander of the Malta Group, code Dune Fort 1-1-2. In actual command of most of his gladiators. Not a genius but pretty damn close, a tactical whiz. Is sure as hell not above calling in some Maltan saboteurs and agents. Known to supply agents with combat drugs and special weaponry. Gun nut.

First Gladiator: Curtis Richardson. Malta Group Elite Gunslinger, codename Whiskey Tumbleweed 3-5-9. Finest pistoleer you'll ever meet. Uses double .50 Desert Eagles. Capable of insane feats, such as bouncing bullets off of walls. Has a veritable armory of different sorts of munitions. Capable of teleport due to Gunlsinger pack and is often found jumping right next to someone, attacking, and teleporting quickly. Teleporter is modified to insane cooling rates, so he could be any where at any time. Likes his hat.

Second Gladiator: Marcus Marcone. Ex-Family Maltan Elite Operations Engineer. Codename Glacier Toybox 3-6-6. Shotgunner by trade, uses many sorts of ammunition. Fistfighting skills left from his time with the Family. Carries a SPAS-12 Tactical. Has many handy gadgets, such as autoturrets. Reported as having a concealed sap weapon of unknown type. Really, really likes to smoke cigars, especially flavored.

Third: Prikker. Troll. Crazy Troll. Slept in a Crey greenhouse, and his 'dyne interacted with the chemicals oddly to allow him complete control over plants. Now prefers up-close spine-thrashing. Fistfighting skills and massive tolerance for pain. Carries a colt .45 with standard ammunition. Uses 'dyne in combat to "Rave," A.K.A. Go complete in-[censored]'-sane. Enjoys video games.

Fourth: Snikker. Troll. Prikker's brother. Council experiments have left this Troll with control over negative energies and darkness. Is close to his Dark Servant. Carries a Glock 9mm. Fistfighting skills and incredible pain tolerance. Prefers ranged darkmatter-tossing. Uses 'dyne in combat to go completely in-[censored]' sane. Also likes video games.

Fifth: Name unknown. Malta Operative Alpha One, codename Dusty Red 4-6-4. He doesn't need drugs to be in-[censored]'-sane. Naturally trained kineticist. Carries Heavy Assault Multi Munitions Rifle (AR Set rifle) and hates fighting outside of helicoptors. Screams "BOOM! Headshot!" Whenever he kersnipes someone with a single slug or sniper round.

----

"Right boys!" Reikoff grinned, "We're headin' in soon!"

The Mage's robes expanded, as though he was taking a deep breath.

The other Thornsmen wasted no time in ripping a portal hole back to their base and zooming through it, wanting to vacate as fast as possible.

"Uh oh..." The Mage muttered.

He might have actually been afraid.

Running to his fellow Circle, who had gone the other way, he screamed "DREAD TRIO! DREAD TRIO!" repeatedly until they stopped.

And turned.

And readied to defend their lives.

The Thornsmen looked up. They would not be interrupted in their conversation.

Not with the interruptees leaving alive, anyway.

The Daemons and the Magi turned to the eyes, readying to blast them.

((As long as it has a detailed description of my mage's bad-assery >_&gt)

The Mage was seen nodding vigorously at his fellow Thornsmen. This was the first positive thing he'd done since meeting the team...

The Mage left the group to sit and converse with a couple of Spectral Daemon Lords and a Ruin Mage.

The Mage lazily drew figures in the sky...

And the inside of the car erupted into flames.

The mage puffed some mist.

"You just need to unbind the soul. That's all."

And so he tried, fires flaring up around him until it seemed like a small volcano was about to erupt.

Suddenly all of the volcanoes cracked and turned to ice.

"[censored]." The mage cursed uncharacteristically. "They're magically resistant. I'll have to be far closer to do it."

((Wow.))

((So much backstory.))

((My characters want one of three things. To destroy capitalism, put a gun to your face and mug you, or to kick all your [censored] and use your brains in giant evil robots.))

((That's about it.))

((To put it simply ((From my DeviantArt journal.))))

And then the Malta shot everyone, and the Trolls all had 'dyne for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for years.


Hoowah!

The mage snorted in mild frustration.

The mage looked to the food stand in disgust and sent it bursting into flames.

"Keep your mind on the task at hand." He uttered.

The robes and bone helm floated out of the car, the mist filling them and bringing the Mage back to a solid state. A passing Centaur bumped into him and the mage casually immolated it.

The mage turned to mist once more, his robes and helm floating into the car by themselves.

The portal led to right outside the Shinjuku train station. Those coming through would see the mage holding a shrieker by the chest, causing it to spontaneously combust.

((I'm not sure he has a powerset....He's just an Archmagi I guess. So far he's been necro/fire assault....potion...thing...))

"We can get there quickly."

"Stand still, do NOT move." The mage barked, suddenly turning into a wisp of smoke.

---

A few moments later, a crackling energy mass appeared in the middle of the group.

"Come!" Was roared from somewhere.

A puff of mist came from the mage.

The Mage erupted next to them in a plume of fire, saying nothing.

The Magus grinned.

All around the demon, Bone Magi rose from nothing, flinging elemental bolts at it...