A red and black portal, created from technologically advanced pieces of... Well, technology, hung in the air, floating as blasts of electricity and energy shot by, scarring the floors and walls of the hidden base.
Below it, quite a battle was going on- A man in a robotic suit, coursing with electricity, stood behind six grey and black robots, firing from a Nemesis Staff and Energy Rifle simultaneously, his Assault Bot firing rails at the hero on the other end of the room, the Battle Drones blasting randomly to keep him at bay, and Protector Bots placing shields on their allies.
Meanwhile, a hero in similar armour, if but for a few small changes and in blue and white, was dodging the attacks, using his own Nemesis Staff to keep the Drones from using their blade-arms on him, and firing bolts of electricity from a power-gauntlet on his arm.
He ducked behind an energy battery to catch his breath as the villain ordered his bots to halt fire. "So, Entity Restorer, do you feel like giving up yet?" he asked, a smirk obvious in his voice, "Or must I give my Assault Bot the order to fire missiles at your target of a suit?"
"No thanks, Soul Drainer," Entity replied, "I'm pretty fine with taking that portal away from you."
"Oh, you can try, but let's see how you appreciate THIS!"
Soul Drainer hefted the rifle in his arms upward, and hit a button on the side. A ball of light fired into the air, coming down, soon to hit Entity Restorer directly. He gasped, leaping into the air before the Photon Grenade hit, and into the portal.
Soul Drainer fired a bolt of energy, collapsing the thing instantly. Hefting the thing onto his shoulder, he began laughing evilly, before halting to simply say "Job done." and continue cackling.
-----------------------------------------
Obsidian Arrow and the Arachnos-wanna-bes wouldn't have to wait long for company- A black and red swirling portal appeared to the side of the one Obsidian entered through, throwing a blue and white armoured form to the ground beside him, groaning.
"...Ow..."
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.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
Entity Restorer was... Well, confused didn't really hit it. Where was he? Who were these people? And most of all- Why the hell did he get pulled into this situation when he was already stressed enough?
No matter, not time to think about that right now. He pulled both arms back, charging them with electricity, then pushing them forward and releasing it at the lead... Mushroom-Arachnos soldier? Rainbow Bright Spider?
A man in covered in a dark blue crey armor, with a red badge painted on the chest piece, walked down the hallways of portal corp. The man reached his head up to his helmet, and adjusted the antenna, a bit of static was coming through, but a voice came from the receiver. "Soul, what's been going on, did you finish the mission already?" The man (Soul Striker) spoke back into the helmet with a embarassed voice, sounding like that of just a mere teenager, (Which he is...Between 17-18) "Uh, yea. About that, what's my mission again?"
For a minute there was dead silence, then the voice returned, "What are you, an idiot, Soul? You didn't even START it?" Soul Striker attempted to reply, "Well, you know, I had some things to do with my Super Group, see, there was this awesome dance party and-" But his contact apparently didn't want to hear it and with an angry tone he said, "You know what Soul? I sometimes REALLY question why I continue to work with you." There was a slight pause, and the contact began speaking again, with a somewhat lighter tone hinting at forgiveness, "Look, whatever you were doing, forget it, you need to take the second portal on the left, there's a mass of freakshow getting ready to come to our world, and I want you go stop them with that fancy suit of yours, GOT IT?" Soul Striker laughed, smiling underneath the reaper he wore. "Kay, got it, have fun while I'm gone pops." Soul Striker continued to smile as he placed on his visor, and turned off his helmet's communicator before his contact could make a complaint. Soul Striker continued to walk towards the portal entrance. As he walked up to the portal, ready to walk in he thought, "Wait...did he say the second on the right, or the second on the LEFT?" Soul Striker pondered to himself for a few moments, "You know what, maybe I should call Pops again...Nah, I'll be fine." Soul Striker activated his suit, and it began to emit a bright aura. Finally, he stepped in.
Of course, what was on the other side however, wasn't quite what he expected. Normally when he faced freakshow, everything around him was torn up, and there were shouts of liveliness from the surrounding villains. However, this was different. Instead of liveliness, it was dead quiet. And instead of everything torn down, well, everything was still torn down, but everything else was still remarkably dreary. On top of that, with the lack of Tank people, Soul Striker was really dissapointed.
It was not until he noticed a couple heroes themselves fighting what look liked arachnos soldiers that forgot the dress code. With all that's going on, he wasn't quite sure what to do. All he managed to say was, "Maybe I took the wrong portal after all..."
However after a few moments an idea came to him. "Hey...I bet I can just save the day here, and then come back as a hero in TWO dimensions, all I would need to do is clean this place up, then the Freakshow zone, it'll be easy!" Trying to sound dramatic, he shouted, "Step aside, I can handle this!" Soul Striker stepped back a few steps, and started running towards the nearest soldier he saw, performing a leaping kick, aiming straight for his torso.
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.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
The beach.
It was the first thought in the disheveled young man's mind when he awoke with a cough. He wore little more than a pair of tattered pants. A few bits of his shirt remained, but a gentle breeze would probably tear that away. Some water spurted into the ground next to him from somewhere halfway between his mouth and lungs and he rolled over onto his stomach to vomit.
"Ugh," he muttered, "What happened?"
The last thing he remembered was falling off the derrick. He'd always been afraid of water... Heights only compounded the problem, even though under normal circumstances he wasn't acrophobic. Still, while fixing one of the automated turrets, he'd fallen off and his security harness just broke.
Psycho13 was sort of glad he didn't waste any time screaming. For an instant, he could get why his brothers always loved jumping off those bridges into the rivers below them, too. Impact, however, was not fun. It probably would've helped if he hadn't landed on his shoulder, and dislocated it.
He rubbed the injured limb, and realized that his regeneration hadn't wasted the time he spent "sleeping." The shoulder was as good as new, well, new plus that odd tattoo he had put there in his days as an amateur pro wrestler. His symbol, his mark... Friends called it the "Ski Man." He called it the "Whirlwind."
He sometimes wondered at that. The tattoo still being there, that is. He still had the scars of his youth, but every new injury went away, leaving perfectly fine peach-colored skin. Nearly perfect, at that. The only time one could tell he'd been injured would be if he had a tan. Regenerated skin didn't come back tanned.
"Now's not the time to muse about that," he muttered as he pushed himself off the ground, "I've gotta figure out where I am, how long I've been gone, and... and..."
The city looked... It looked like Hell.
"What happened here?" he gasped.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
"The Masters of Mayhem, duh," said a pleasant sounding, if sarcastic, voice from behind one of several large boulders inextricably scattered across the sand. "Where've you been for the last few years, anyway?"
The owner of the voice slid out from around the rock, high tech looking rifle aimed squarely at Psycho13's head with one hand. The other hand, glad in the same shimmering gold as the rest of the figure's armor, was held out with two fingers in a 'V'.
"Peace, yo," the man continued. "The gun's just out because I'm paranoid. These are paranoid times, you know. So, who're you?"
Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.
Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.
NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.
"I'm..." the first name that came to mind didn't sound right... Not now, "I'm Caleb. Caleb Taylor... I..."
He glared at the rifle.
"Look, could you put that away? I think it's pretty damn obvious I'm not armed."
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
"He is not lying, sir," came a soft voice with a slight mechanical buzz from right behind Psycho13. "No weapons have been detected."
"Ah good," said the gold armored man as he lowered his rifle and lowered his other hand. "You can some out now then, Small Toy."
"Affirmitive," replied the cloaked robot as its active camoflouge faded away, revealing Small Toy to be a five foot tall, grey, skeletal robot.
Remaining out of kicking range, the robot drifted past Psycho13 and took up position next to the gold armored man.
"So, Caleb, what brings you to this dreary beach on the outskirts of Hell?" asked the man.
Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.
Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.
NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.
Kommandant Thule walked down the desolated streets of Perez Park. He walked where hundreds of Hellions once stood. There were no more shops trying to be robbed, they all had been looted, and then torched in the last free days of the world. Ashes and burnt timbers was all that remained.
He came to a three way intersection, one led to another street full of desolated shops, crashed cars, burnt streets, pot holes that looked more like craters from artillery piece. Another led to a street of similar values, but it was an old cobble stone street that lead into the Perez Park Forest. The last lead back to where he came from. He turned to the left and began walking into the forest.
The forest was mostly trees whose limbs had remained but their leaves had not, there were thorn bushes on the ground, a path still remained. Thule walked along the path until he came to a stone door deep in the forest. He ran his fingers over the door, and then backed up and booted it open.
The tunnel was your average tunnel, it was long, had some traps, had guards patrolling it, you know the usal evil-leader tunnels. Thule walked down the tunnel and came to another stone door. He spoke the name "Aphex". The door began to creep open. . .
From the webbing surrounding his feet and legs, Entity Restorer fired small bolts of lightning at Brass, scowling. "Entity Restorer, hero of Paragon. I don't know these freaks and I don't know you, but if you're fighting them, we're most likely on the same side of the fence here."
The blue and white hero then gripped the webbing sending volts through it, freeing himself of their hold, and his jet boots activated. "Fliers? How fun. Where to?"
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.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
Thule took the papers and the picture. He studied the picture and then read over the contract as he walked down the tunnels. He teleported out of the tunnel, and out of the forest to where he was before on the three way intersection. He walked down the one that he had not gone before. He walked for a few minutes before teleporting to where the old PPD Checkpoint was to enter Steel Canyon.
There was no one manning the checkpoint, he simply walked though it. The beacon started to beep. Out of common sense, Thule walked until the beacon started to beep faster. He teleported to see a group of four fighting. The beacon started to beep faster.
There were three heroes fighting Marshal Brass and his minions. He teleported next to Windsong and pulled his Crey Pistol...
Nerva was not exactly the where Cortianna would've expected to find an experimental Arachnos portal, but here she was, talking to Technition Naylor about using it to go into the future. To say she was leery would be an understatment. The psionic babble from the demons and mages on the island had already given her a headache, the tehcnical terms Naylor thought in didn't help matters any.
"Fine, just answer me this, will this thing work?"
"Oh sure. It's been tested and documented quite thouroghly."
"Fine, I don't really have a choice anyway." The teenaged psychic sighed. Part of the deal to get Arachons off her case involed agreeing to this. She was well aware that a large portion expected her to suffer an 'unforeseen and unfortunate acident' while passing through the portal.
Stepping through the portal proved a unique experience, the sudden silence from her telepathy was more disorienting then the anything else. Then the voices began again as she emerged into, what was apparently , a fight. The thought patterns of those involved was... odd to say the least. The Arachons soldiers she was familiar with even if the armor was different. Not too unusual to expect out of what was supposed to be a ten year jump.
She looked at the three men near her, their minds quickly told her that they were heroes out of Paragon.
Great, jusy my luck to land in Capeville. Pale white-blue eyes flickered to the soldiers, what she had first taken as Arachnos troops were apparently soldiers for some group called the Masters of Mayhem. No help there then, guess I'll be trying my luck with the capes.
A focused bolt of telekinetic force lashed from her to impact against the closest trooper with the force of a car impact. A needless guesture with her hand and she began to burn the webbing around Soul Striker and Entity's legs.
<<Evening, I guess the idiots at Arachnos tried to kill me off in a rather spectacular way. Name's Cortianna by the way, we can decide later if we need to fight eachother once the more common foe is out of the way, agreed?>>
Pinnacle
Heroes
When in danger, or in doubt; Run in circles, scream and shout.
((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.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
[ QUOTE ]
"He is not lying, sir," came a soft voice with a slight mechanical buzz from right behind Psycho13. "No weapons have been detected."
"Ah good," said the gold armored man as he lowered his rifle and lowered his other hand. "You can some out now then, Small Toy."
"Affirmitive," replied the cloaked robot as its active camoflouge faded away, revealing Small Toy to be a five foot tall, grey, skeletal robot.
Remaining out of kicking range, the robot drifted past Psycho13 and took up position next to the gold armored man.
"So, Caleb, what brings you to this dreary beach on the outskirts of Hell?" asked the man.
[/ QUOTE ]
Psycho13 cocked his head to the side. This guy looked like... No way...
"You... You can't be..." he arched an eyebrow and narrowed his eyelids, "Is this a dream?"
Without warning, he picked up a broken seashell and scraped the edge of it across the back of his hand. The wound healed instantly, but Psycho13 still registered the pain as evidenced by the wince on his face.
"Ah! Dammit..." he looked back up at the gold armored man, "Ah... I don't know what brings me out here... I fell off a derrick and woke up here... For a second, as you can tell, I thought this was a dream..."
He showed his bloody but healed hand to the figure.
"Normally, such an occurrence would cause me to believe I'm in said dream... The pain I suffered and the fact that I must have just been choking to death, tell me this is false..."
He sat down. He looked a little worried.
"I don't know where I am. I don't know what I'm doing here... And the fact that you seem to have me dead bang is a lot more worrying than I'd like it to be."
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
In Grandville, Lord Recluse's tower still stood, strong as ever, although much of the web had been destroyed, pieces of it lay on the ground, and more than a few buildings suffered damage from the fallen pieces.
The statue of Lord Recluse that had formerly stood out in front had been destroyed. Instead, a statue of a large, strong-looking man with his long hair pulled into a pony tail, and a half-mask obscuring most of his face, stood there, his foot triumphantly on top of Recluse's head. Elitist, the leader of the Masters of Mayhem.
Inside, another statue of the same man, this time crossing his arms and scowling down at the door, greeted the visitor and his followers. All of the Arachnos material had been torn down and replaced with the Masters symbol.
The statues of Recluse's lieutenants had been replaced as well. Where Scirocco had stood, a statue of a woman with short hair and large eyes stood in a striped costume.
Mako's was replaced by a man with a scowl even deeper than the statue of Elitist. His bald head was fully visible, though the rest of him was encased in sleek armor. His arms crossed, even the statue seemed menacing.
Black Scorpion's was replaced by that of a man in a labcoat, his goggles push up over a full head of hair. His fists were set against his waists as he stood proudly, a small droid sitting on his shoulders. Underneath the open lab coat, armor could be clearly seen.
And finally, where once stood Ghost Widow's statue, stood that of Blightlord, his rotted face partially covered by a ventilator. He wore a shredded cape, held on by black skulls and rib bones on his shoulders, the black organic substance on his costume covered by veins coursing with green toxins. Anyone who had seen him before would notice his face had rotted away much more, as likely had the rest of the body he inhabited.
It was this same Blightlord who walked through the tower, and entered the elevators to what had once been Lord Recluse's war room. Elitist sat in a golden throne, the same as his armor.
He had hardly aged. Likely a side affect of his 5th Column experiment-granted powers. When Blightlord entered, undead minions following behind him, he looked up as if he had just awakened.
"You're late," said Elitist with a small frown.
Blightlord couldn't help noticing the other man failed to get up when he entered the room. But the master of the undead let that slide. "I had business to attend to."
"You still continue to build that fortress? Don't assume I don't know what your doing in there. You know I've known your plans all along..."
"Yes, yes, and I have no hope. Elitist, you know as well as I do that my attempts on you are no longer necessary. Certainly you remember the battle in this same tower?" said Blightlord, a small smirk behind his raider ventilator.
Elitist did remember. Ghost Widow had him pinned, and Recluse was moving in for the final blow. A quick intervention in the form of a flying zombie took the brunt of the attack that would have finished the Masters' leader. Because of that, he had just enough time to break free and help them defeat the Arachnos leaders.
"Either way, that is not why I called you here. I want you to investigate Techno Tyrant's new findings. Random spikes of energy are appearing throughout our land. I suspect portal activity, likely the work of the Resistance. Find what it is they're bringing in, and eliminate it."
Blightlord stared for a good few moments at Elitist. He was being handed a lackey's errand, and it didn't sit well with him. No matter, he would bide his time. This wouldn't last long. "But of course."
With that, the master of the undead left for his fortress back in Dark Astoria. He had things to set in motion...
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
Soul Striker started to struggle with the webbing to break free. Mentally he thought to himself, "What the? Come on, the normal Aachnos soldiers had webs with the strength of mere strings, what's with this stuff?" As he continued to struggle with it he saw the webbing start to burn. For a few seconds he was convinced it was just another add on to the webs already amazing design. It was not untill he realized the flames had done no harm to him, and the webbing decayed, that he realized it was a mere help from yet another hero. It was then he heard a voice in his mind.
Cortianna: Evening, I guess the idiots at Arachnos tried to kill me off in a rather spectacular way. Name's Cortianna by the way, we can decide later if we need to fight eachother once the more common foe is out of the way, agreed?
A few thoughts passed by his mind in hearing that. "Ok, her name is Cortianna, great, thank god I know THAT..Wait, idiots at arachnos? What the hell are these guys supposed to be then? Eh, fight me? I'd like to see her try, with my own strength mixed with the power of the suit, I'm unstoppable! Well...mostly, stupid webs!"
As Soul Striker attempted to mentally massage his own ego again, he heard the shout of one of the women, "Get to Atlas Park. She will contact you there." Soul Striker was about to ask, but saw the archer was quickly denied of the answers, and watched him start running. Muttering to himself once again he said, "Mmm, doesn't look like my amazing charm will count for anything in this case. *Sigh* Can't beat em, follow them around till they let you hang out with them...besides, I could use a few people as shields right? Teaming is key, just like Pops said."Meanwhile he thought to himself, "Besides, maybe this "She" is hot!" Shouting to the archer he said, "Hey, wait for me!" As he followed him towards Atlas.
"Ha! I wish this was all a dream!" barked the man as he disassembled his rifle into little black boxes and stored them in compartments that opened up all over his armor. "Also, just so you know, you being a metahuman changes things quite a bit."
"Mayhem forces have been detected moving toward our position, sir," said Small Toy as it turned to face the city. Panels in its head peeled open like a flower to reveal advanced scanning devices and sensors. "A small detatchment, to be sure, but I believe they are finally investigating the same energy signature that brought us here in the first place."
"Oh joy," sighed the man. "I guess you should come with me. We can chat some more after we've lost these thugs. Shouldn't be that hard."
Rolling his shoulders, a red charge of electricity built up around his shoulders and then rippled down his arm to shoot off and impact a slightly raised patch of sand. The ground there shuddered and opened up, the secret door contained within pulling back and dragging its load of sand with it.
"Follow me!" the man shouted as he dove into the hole.
Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.
Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.
NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.
Primeva
Nerva Archipelago
Arachnos wasn't the only organization interested in current affairs. However, it did have the capability as well as liberty of direct intervention.
Still, rules could be bent and twisted. If you couldn't do something yourself, hire good help. Or bad help, as might be the case - and where more anonymous to hire shady characters than in the dense jungle of the old Mu fortress still prevalent here?
"Our card." said one strange figure to another, handing a business card in the clawed fingers of a hand the hue of crimson embers.
A black glove accepted the token from what was clearly some sort of demon, looking more like a Behemoth summoned by the now-and-then passing members of the Circle of Thorns than anything else. Of course this was only on first glance, as this demon had decked himself out in a fine Gucci suit, complete with shirt and tie, though the large claws of his feet had made a matching pair of shoes rather hard to come by.
The demon's head was quite a bit more serpentine as well, and the large pair of wings that sprouted from finely tailored slits in the back of the suit clearly showed this was no Behemoth, but something else entirely. The briefcase in his other hand made it quite apparent what.
A lawyer.
The demon stood there with his partner, a man even taller than he was, bordering on three meters and clothed as a master of the martial arts - light robes of blood-red satin embroidered with golden edges, night-black cloth wrapped about his arms, legs and feet. A bamboo coolie worn in the fashion of a Tsoo sorcerer completed the ensemble, hiding the man's eyes and only showing half of his respectably tan face.
The one the card had been handed to seemed to fit right into this meeting, a figure in simple black veils and a solid mask to cover his face. From far away, an observer might have almost described him as a satanic nun of some sort, especially considering he stood just over two meters - which, while not exactly short, was quite eclipsed by the demon and his even taller associate.
"LMOUSVEV." enunciated the ridiculously tall man with a gesture of introduction as the figure read the card, "Long name, quality villainy."
"Indeed." the demonic attorney added, "And as you have paid half the agreed upon amount in advance, we of the League of Mismatched or Otherwise Unorthodox but Still Very Evil Villains are hereby at your service."
"I wouldn't expect anything less." nodded the masked man, pocketing the card, "Quality help is hard to find these days, and I need not only that, but also those not conflicted by something as antiquated as good and evil."
"Have no fear." the demon smiled toothily, "The Dragon of Decay and I are mercenaries. We're only in it for the money."
"I asked you not to call me that." the tall man huffed in exasperation, "But yes, he's quite right. We do whatever so long as the money's good."
"Glad to hear it." the figure nodded, handing the two an envelope, "This is the job. Read it, memorize it, and destroy it. I don't want any of this pointing back to us."
The two took the container and opened it casually, reading over the material contained within with casual nods of approval.
"You may request support at any time." the figure continued, "You may also request me personally. However, I will not be able to act as anything more than a tactical coordinator. Then again...personally, I don't think you'll be needing any help."
"Fair assessment." chuckled the lawyer as the papers went up in a burst of felfire, "Not to brag, but I do believe and arch demon and this fellow here will be more than enough to complete this to your satisfaction."
"I expect no less of you." the figure gave a chuckle, then pulled a conductor's baton from within his robes. A quick flick into the air, and a swirling sphere of darkness began to form, taking the appearance of a vortex projected into 3-D, "The gate awaits..."
--------------------
A crack of thunder echoed as the gate's counterpart formed in the other world, and just about instantly, any observers would notice a radical difference to the portals that had appeared up to this point.
This vortex stood pitch-back and with menacing aura, but also seemed to be such a subtle weaving that it was extremely difficult to detect unless said detector was in respectable proximity. If nobody knew better, they might very well classify this as a stealth gate of some sort.
The travelers that stepped forth, however, were anything but - the demonic lawyer and martial artist blending into the bleak landscape about as well as a grassy patch in a flow of lava.
"What a dreary place." commented the taller man with a scowl, "I expected better."
"Beats hell." the demon gave shrug, surveying the area, which they both quickly discovered did not seem as empty as it had first looked.
Not far away rested a series of large boulders, and from beyond said boulders had come voices. Something about dreaming, pain, and death. Always a good proposition for the enemy.
Sadly, this likely meant that whomever that voice belonged to had noticed their arrival.
"Let us begin." the demon chuckled to his associate, "After you..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
Jake stood on the edge of one of the only relatively in-tact buildings in Steel Canyon, observing the fight below with mild interest. He had been ordered into this Hellish future by some of the higher ups in Arachnos after a certain fortunata informed the officials of a certain vision. It was then that he was sent into this future, mostly to learn what this possible future held in store, and how to avoid it. Also, if at all possible, he was ordered to defeat the Masters of Mayhem, but Jake had no intention of doing that. He just wanted to get in, get the job done, and get the Hell out. Generally, he didn't like being in a dimmension or timeline other than his own; it gave him a sort of isolated feeling.
As he was looking down, observing the fight, he overheard the shout of 'Run to Atlas and meet up with her!' He, as of now, had no other leads, and decided that this was probably the best one he was going to get. He prepared to follow the heroes who had been given the order. (His memory of Paragon was vague at best, and although he remembered very well what Atlas Park looked like, he had absolutely no idea how to get there.)
Whatever intent Kommandant Thule had with his drawn Crey Pistol, he would've no doubt found it suddenly skewered with a strange... Spine? If the man found any intentions to move, he would've suddenly found several larger spines skewered in front of him and another few behind.
A small chuckle came from above as the hidden figure jumped down to engage herself in the battle.
At first glance, the figure could've been identified as either sex, that is, until she shed away the black cloak that had hidden her form. Revealing herself to be an extremely lithe and slender female, it became obvious that she was the source of the strange non-organic spines that had first assaulted Thule. Laughing as she dodged the incoming blows easily, she released more waves of spines into the soldiers, and even nailed one at Marshal Brass, although the amount of damage she inflicted upon him seemed to be minor enough.
The young woman, turning to Windsong, took out a strange device and pointed it at her. The green beam that shot out would momentarily relieve the heroine from further hindering status'.
"There ya go. No need to thank me. Just go tell your friends that Lithanika Legacy will be hot on your heels after-" Lithanika turned back to the Mayhem soldiers. "-I deal with these guys."
((Hope there aren't any inconsistencies. =P))
"What are you doing?" Windsong whispered harshly to Lithanka. "Get out of here now, you'll ruin everything!"
Marshall Brass ripped the spine from his leg, grunting. The flier was now over their heads, and green beams of light where shooting down. The forms of Mayhem soldiers could be seen materializing.
Soon a dozen heavily armored soldiers were standing, maces ready. The flier's pilot was beginning to lock onto the heroes below so it could add its own barrage to the soon coming fight.
Windsong placed a palm on Lithanka's chest. Instantly she would feel almost lighter. The next moment, the Resistance fighter was pushing her in the direction of Arrow and the others. She would race toward them at high speeds unless she found a means of stopping herself.
Windsong turned back to the soldiers and Brass. "I surrender."
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
Blightlord sat in a throne of his own, crafted from the bones of those who had sought to kill him in the past. He listened for a moment at the moaning of his walls... Awe inspiring.
The Ruby Blade stood in front of the dais upon which Blightlord sat. "You have a contract for me?"
"Yes. Elitist wants these rifts investigated. Take this." Blightlord tossed the assassin a scroll. When Blade opened it, a map of the Isles and Paragon drew itself onto it. In red ink, the spots where the rifts had been appearing were clearly marked. "Bring me your findings, and I will see what forces can be lended to solve your own personal," he cleared his throat, "problem."
Ruby nodded, then vanished.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
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 Masters 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 youd be this much trouble Id 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 jesters cape and green, spiked boots and gloves bringing a bright bit of color into the dark alleyway. Nothing personal, really. Its just that Elitist doesnt want any opposition, even if theres really not much you can do at this point. Now lets go, Danica, you have a cell waiting.
Danica crouched low into a fighters stance. Rachel! Run! The little girl cried out to protest but the look in her mothers 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! Elitistll 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 couldnt 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 wont 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 Rachels scared face in the corner. She stopped, and that moments 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.
Pumpkins wrist beeped, Elitist was calling a meeting. I dont have time for this! He pressed a button and several soldiers came from different corners of the area. Shes not listening, you know what to do.
Pumpkin was teleported away and Rachel watched in horror as clubs fell, the sound of her mothers skull cracking filling the night air.
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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 girls and said, Well 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.
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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 hed 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 consoles 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 portals 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 didnt know wouldnt hurt his bonus
And so a very satisfied Prodder walked out of Portal Corp., not knowing the trick that had been played.
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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 hadnt 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.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell