Vandas_Jecan

Citizen
  • Posts

    2
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  1. The Police of Mercy Island were hardly what you would call actual police; many of them were corrupt and lifeless losers who only did what Recluse told them so they'd keep their heads on their shoulders.

    And yet they still vagabonded on, like they were important. With all the people running around that could conjure flames, or huge columns of darkness, or even command beasts from beneath the ground, these officers thought they were the hot stuff of Rogue Isles.

    " Hehe. Yeah, some weird Skulls Punk thought he could mess with us police forces. Hehe. " Muttered one of the police in the wrecked city below Fort Darwin. The two were relaxing after a recent Skulls ' bust ', as they claimed.

    " So... which one you wanna hit? " The second one asked. The two watched as a few villains ran off from the tower. Finally, their eyes settled on one outside the fort, leaning against the wall. He was dressed in a black leather jacket and black jeans, with red markings along the pants. He wore shades and a black mask over his mouth.

    " He looks like a punk. " The first replied. " Probably nothing special, we can handle him. "

    The second agreed, and the watched and waited.

    Finally, the leather-clad vagabond stood up and began walking towards his destination, hands in his pockets. Where he was going, the police had no idea. As soon as he was out of range of Fort Darwin, though, they didn't care where he was going.

    " Hey, you! Freeze! " called out one. The black-garbed man stopped, but did not turn. The second one circled him.

    " You're new to the these Isles, aren't you. " The man replied.

    " ...... " The leather-jacketed wanderer did not respond.

    " We're the Rogue Isles Police, punk. You'd better show us some respect, or we'll teach you how rough life can be here.

    Finally, the man in the leather jacket looked up at the police man in front of him.

    " Get out of my way. "

    The cop chuckled and grinned, pulling out his baton. " Well, we've got a live one here, James. Thinks he can tell the law around here what to do! "

    " Well, we'd better show him what it means to mess with the local law. " The officer known as ' James ' replied.

    The man raised his baton to strike the leather clad wanderer, and brought it down on him. However, the wanderer had disappeared.

    " Huh? " James looked around. " Where the hell'd he go, man? "

    " I dunno, man... That's wei- " The man did not finish his sentance before falling before his friend, his blood washing over him. A sharp and deadly katana-looking weapon had appeared, with the leather-jacketed warrior at the end of it.

    " I said get out of my way. " The warrior replied.

    James screamed and went for his gun. He pulled in from it's holster, and brought it up just in time to see the glint of the warrior's blade come crashing down on him, ripping him in half.

    The warrior spun his katana free of blood, and resheathed it on his back. He turned and began walking towards his destination again, fading out of existance as he walked.

    A nearby Longbow Recruit was frantically grabbing his radio.

    " The Wraith of Skyway City is free! Contact HQ right away! "
  2. =--=

    June 5th, 2005 ( or at least that's what a lady in Atlas Park said. )

    I've been in this town for about two weeks. At first, I just thought people were crazy. Or maybe that I happened to have ended up in a circus.

    Oh, how horribly wrong I was.

    Who would have expected to appear in a city full of costumed freaks running around with all manners of super powers to battle the seemingly endless hordes of evil villains?

    Thanks to the working of Doctor James Parnamia, I've established contact with Terias Odin, my comerade in arms. Though unable to directly associate with him, he has sent me my sword, and some armor he claims would help me here.

    So far, it has worked. His Launch Boots, as he calls them, do infact propel me high enough to keep up with the psychos around here that can fly. You would think that would be an uncommon thing, but here, almost EVERYONE can fly! If they wear a cape, they can either fly, or defy the sound barrier.

    Either way, putting personal opinions of these so-called heroes aside, I have worked with two of them in more detail.

    One is known as The Forsaken Warden. A strange name, but he was fighting members of a fanatic magic group called the Circle of Thorns. They managed to overpower him, and I rescued him. He claimed he had never been rescued before, and swore I would have an ally for life. Though he does not stay around me, he watches over my back from the shadows. Despite his less than friendly appearence and his no-mercy philosophy, he seems friendly enough. Lord knows who, where, or even what this Warden is. A friend is a friend, however. I won't say no to an ally.

    Swinging almost full-scale the other way, is my second associate, The Awesome Glacial Chill. Well, that's what he calls himself anyways. A pompous kid who thinks too much of himself, he somehow has the ability to control ice. Like the rest of the freaks here, he can fly. But he's a good kid, always looking out for me, even if I'm way older than he is. He's like my guide to this world, showing me new places, helping me out. He may be a bit pompous, but he's still a pretty cool kid.

    The battles I've fought here are nothing like the ones back home. Where I used to fight military soldiers, like the Council here, I battle dark magic wielders, strange mutated humans with alien technology and broken street items for armor who call themselves the Lost, to a bizzare race of mechanical beings known as the ClockWork.

    I'm sure there are more out there I have yet to see. Yesterday, I associated with a few people into a Task Force, which Positron, yet another one, arranged us into called Task Force Fisson. We worked tirelessly to help him out, and I worked alongside a few of this cities other heroes, such as GIR-, WildSpark, Major Disbeleif, Ol'Smokey, Wauks, and Doctor America. At least they were friendly people.. mutants... machines... Well, whatever the hell they were.

    Maybe I'll get the chance to work with them again. Who knows? Chill, Warden and I have banded together as an official " SuperGroup " as they call them here, called The BloodHonor Mercenaries. I was the one who chose the name; it's the same as the name of the group where I come from.


    =--=

    Aaron stood up and put his jounal in his backpack, and looked down from the large building he was sitting on. He could see the statue of Atlas, and the many heroes brooding around it like ants in a colony.

    Beneath his black cowl, a smirk crossed his damaged lower face.

    " They may be freaks, but they're fun freaks. " He said quietly to himself. The air around him suddenly dropped in temperature.

    " I thought I'd find you up here. Brooding again? " asked Glacial Chill.

    " Not brooding, Chill. I'm just not a social butterfly. I'd rather keep to myself. " Aaron retorted, his gaze still down on the city.

    " You need some more excitement in your life! Let's go to Pocket D and chill out! " He replied, nudging Aaron in the back. " Maybe we could find you a hot woman to warm up your surly attitude. "

    " .... I'm married, Chill. " Aaron replied, taking his friend back by surprise. " But I'll go for a drink. "

    With that, he launched himself from the building to the skies.