"Very well, then. I'll be seeing you on less pleasant circumstances in a short while." Thule hung up and began his slow walk down the halls and though security checks. How boring and dull they were. This world was far too well policed and controlled -- but it was something dreamt of created into a physical being. This made him quite happy.
Thule walked into the elevator, pushed the button for the ground floor, and waited the thirty seconds for the security cameras to take a detailed picture of the contents of the elevator. The elevator ascended from the security bunker to the City Hall where Thule would step outside of the elevator, walk through the many security checks, walk down the hallway, and finally out into the busy streets of Delhi, New India and around the magnificent city that was carefully constructed in a rather odd but familiar pattern.
New India was Abdul Alharzed's perfect world, streets were practically paved in gold, and the buildings were in top notch conditions, only the mega rich could even dream about affording a house in the prime neighborhoods. Crimes like stealing bread, and water to feed your family were a thing of the past in all of Abdul Alharzed's empire, of course people still did it, but the last time anyone saw them was in the arms of The Secret Police being carried off into the police headquarters for 're-education'. These police were everywhere, two in front of every store, a dozen in front of City Halls, and countless pairs patrolling roads, and plazas.
You didn't just apply to be a member of the police. You were created. That was all that was ever said about where they came from. No press releases, only rumors and things that would make your heart skip a beat were spoken publicly. Cloning facilities creating thousand of perfect men and women to do the job of policing such a large and technologically advanced empire? Who knows. All that was known is that most people would never know anyone who was in the police.
In the center of New India stands a massive tall black reflective pyramid with four obelisks made of black obsidian surrounding it. This imposing structure was Abdul Alharzed's palace, around the parameter of this property stood a twelve foot tall fence constructed out of electrified razor-wire, with armed guards and guard towers every 250 feet. The inside of this monster is surprisingly easy to navigate, the rooms are a mixture of high tech to Egyptian style. The contents of Abdul's personal room are unknown to almost everyone but himself, and several other high ranking officials.
"What do you mean he refuses negotiations?" Text always did a poor job of expressing the sheer anger in Abdul's voice. Most did, but there was nothing else that he would show himself though anymore. It was often wondered if he was really a true person but it was insisted that he was constantly. Maybe he wasn't? Maybe he was really just a group of people trying to control the world. It seemed more likely.
"I belive so." He typed back. The message was sent to another person in an encrypted manner and was then sent to another person who then sent it to another and the chain went on for a while until it finally met it's destination. Paranoid much? He wasn't paranoid, he was well aware of the things that could be done if his methods of transporting his speeches and other public messages became as easily available as porn on the Internet.
Another message arrived a few minutes later.
"I hope he has read up on his survival skills. You know what must be done."
Meanwhile, heroes from all over were being requested in numerous ways to come to a location where they would all be transported to a building outside of Abdul's control. It wasn't revealed why, but from the messages sent, it was clearly the Resistance. If they didn't accept, they were kidnapped and sent to this area, others by sheer fate, stumbled upon the building and it's contents told to them in a dream.
Much like Abdul, the Resistance's leader had only a codename as a name. He was simply known as Michael. He, unlike Abdul, met his charges face to face. He didn't have much to offer other than equipment and the promise of taking a dictator down.
Michael stood at the front of an old worn down double wide and double tall cargo container inside an old warehouse surrounded by Longbow on the inside of the building. Inside the container, there were seats with several heroes sitting and some standing. One by one, they were led and told to sit down anywhere they would like.
((Heroes obviously start here.))
Yosef Vanya, born in Germany several years before the rise of Abdul's empire. He lived though it all by sticking tightly to his friends, all of whom were around his age. They worked as a fluent team and could do anything ranging from clearing large areas of Council and Freakshow from alternate dimensions for Portal Corp to taking villains down.
Sadly, most of his team was taken by the Secret Police for experimentation. By some miracle, he was not taken -- he was the normal one of the bunch. He didn't really have anything that would distinguish him as a hero other than the fact that his base body temperature was around 110 degrees.
He was here for revenge and he would die trying to get it.
----------------------------------------
Recluse sent a similar message out with similar instructions but he offered something more -- money and power -- to those that helped him. Recluse hated sharing power, but he would have to wrestle the control of this world away from Abdul before he could have any real power at all.
This was his act of desperation.
Instead of meeting in a worn down building, Recluse simply held the meetings in The Fab. This section of Grandville was created to create Recluse's super weapon, but it was rarely even worked on anymore, so now it was a bunker.
He stood flanked by his Patrons and looked at the villains.
((Obvious here as well.))
----------------------------------------
Then there were the types that didn't really belong to either side. They wouldn't kill a man in cold blood but they wouldn't go out of their way to save a life either. They, for lack of a better term could be could be called Anti-Heroes.
Both Recluse and Michael sent messages out to grab these so-called Anti-Heroes. It was up to them to choose.
((Let it being -- again! Bonus points if you get why he is named Michael and can explain it.))
OOC:
Probably not Marcus Cole...Michael Miller? No, it's Jack Miller...Is stumped.
((I'm guessing that being named after the Archangel (and protector of God's chosen) Michael is a little too obvious? At first I really wasn't sure which character to use here- Energon X would have gone all-out against Achwhatever, gotten killed, and probably taken out a sizeable chunk of the subcontinent in the process; Target Lad would have quickly become a victim of his own inexperience, and my latest character, the Tempus Fugitive, wouldn't fit for obvious reasons... a time-travelling Warshade? Can you say 'quick fix'? Theeeen I remembered a certain cartoonishly-indestructible, fight-loving brute with green skin, pointy ears, pointier teeth, and a pseudo-German accent so thick you could probably cut it into bricks and build things with it. So, with apologies to Phil and Kaja Foglio...))
A tall, green-skinned brute lounged indolently on a piece of rubble near the front of the group of villains. He was wearing gear of a roughly military cut, although some of it was rather shredded, and a pair of clawed power gauntlets. All this was rather overshadowed, however, by... the hat. Perched over his pointy ears, a hat so magnificent that it looked like the end result of a Prussian military haberdasher's fever dreams... after someone had attempted to treat the fever with hallucinogens.
He grinned at his nominal bosses, revealing a mouthful jagged fangs so generous that even Mako looked under-endowed in the dental department. "So... vhen ve gettink started vit all dis, then?" Jager Horowitz demanded. "Ve knows dot dere's de big bad guy mit his magic book und all his toy scholdiers; pfft. So vhat? I iz Jagerkin." he declared, rapping himself on the head. "Thinky-type schtoff dun do a whole lot to me, and de scholdiers..." the toothy grin widened. "So... vhich uff hyu schmot guys haz de plan for gettink us in to haff some fun?"
"A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head." Seven Habits of Highly Effective Pirates
MA Arcs: #12285, "Small Fears", #106553, "Trollbane", #12669, "How to Survive a Robot Uprising"
[ QUOTE ]
"So... vhen ve gettink started vit all dis, then?" Jager Horowitz demanded.
[/ QUOTE ]
Recluse laughed slightly. "We will begin the operation as soon as we have the manpower and the correct means to attack with."
[ QUOTE ]
"Ve knows dot dere's de big bad guy mit his magic book und all his toy scholdiers; pfft. So vhat? I iz Jagerkin." he declared, rapping himself on the head.
[/ QUOTE ]
"Erm... that's nice?" Ghost Widow replied. "The Necronomicon isn't anything to take lightly. He clearly knows how to tap it's power and how to use it to his will."
[ QUOTE ]
"Thinky-type schtoff dun do a whole lot to me, and de scholdiers..." the toothy grin widened. "So... vhich uff hyu schmot guys haz de plan for gettink us in to haff some fun?"
[/ QUOTE ]
"He's answered that." Black Scorpion had several technicians patching up his suit, "I will spear-head the operation when the time is ready."
Behind Recluse an Ouroboros portal spawned. He didn't mention why it was spawned as he was waiting for the right moment.
"What's with the portal?" A voice asked from the shadows before dropping his cloak.
The voice was that of Nikolai Kamarov. He was what you could call a stalker. He hid and waited until the time was right to strike. Quick and precise movements were what he did and he did them well.
He was around two meters tall, he had a slim build, always wore gold reflective sunglasses, a trenchcoat, baggy pants, and his hair neatly cut and hidden under a skully.
"You'll see." Recluse smiled.
"Very well." Kamarov turned to face the green-skinned brute. "Your name is?"
----------------
"The Menders have contacted me in regards to fixing this whole mess. We will work with them in co-operation with Recluse, who has agreed to the Menders' terms. They will be a great help in this fight." Michael paced back and forth in front of his charges. "Does anyone have any objections to this? If not, please go though the Ouroboros Portal located behind me."
Behind him, the lights turned on on cue and lit up an Ouroboros portal.
"While we are there, there may be some tension between our group and theirs. I urge you to simply work past your urges to beat their faces in until -after- the operation is over."
"Questions?"
----------------
Hours before
"Alharzed will control this world and you know it." Fists were pounded into the table. "We could go to the Menders."
"No." Recluse retorted. "Not after last time."
"There is no other way. You and I both know that if this situation was left unattended there will be nothing interesting in the world anymore." Michael hated to say those words, but they were true. "Often after a world ruler becomes apparent, the world becomes dull and boring. This simply can't happen -- we'd be out of a purpose."
"You do have a point. It does go against all my demoral values, but I do see where you are coming from."
"So then you'll do it?"
"No."
"Explain."
"How do I know you are not a bigger threat to this world then Alharzed is?"
"How do I know you aren't? I don't know. You just need to trust me. I'm what you could call a Mender."
"All that group wants is control."
"We have all the means to control it ourselves. . . we're just bored."
"I too am bored."
"Do you see where I am coming from?"
"I do. I will consider it. Do as you will, just don't think that we're coming until we're actually there." The screen went black...
((Last time I tried to use Ceus it didn't go so well, but I like trying to get into her head, so we'll give the ageless magical weapon of mass destruction with a soul another go.))
Hovering a few inches off the ground, Ceus floated toward the barely decipherable accented speaker, humanoid only in silhouette, her leathery blue/green skin was traced with pulsing silver veins. buckled leather pants, heavy strapped boots, and a tattered cape that once belonged to a hero were her only accessories.
Her faceless visage looked upon the lizard man, "Do not underestimate the Necronomicon, that book has enough power to reduce the world to ashes if used improperly. What this Abdul has done is only a fraction of its abilities."
Infinity
Sam Varden 50 MA/Reg Scrap
Doomtastic 50 SS/Inv Brute
Ceus 50 Eng/Kin Corr
Cinderstorm 50 Fire/Fire Blaster
"Well, I see its time to finally get things underway"
Dorian Caine, known more commonly as the hero Seraphimel, got up from his seat and began walking to the back of the container towards the Ouroboros portal.
There were some fairly obvious physical features that gave Dorian a more 'devilish' appearance than others. Red skin, black horns, glowing orange eyes, and a mane of white hair to name a few. Also, the fact that he was just a few inches shy of being nine feet tall added to the 'Non-Human' factor.
Dorian stopped for a moment, and considered asking Michael about the attack plans, but figured most of his questions would get answered after everyone had assembled in the Menders Headquarters. So, he took a few more steps forward onto the Ouroboros portal, and vanished in a flash of golden light.
Global - @El D
Servers - Protector
"I'll go as is." Yosef stood and walked into the portal and vanished with a similar flash of golden light.
When Seraphimel and Yosef emerged, they were greeted by several Menders.
"You'll take orders from us here and orders from Mender Michael on your planet. Got it?" This Mender appeared to be a Peacebringer. "It is important that when you combat Abdul's undead that you always kill them near a portal to this place. Why this must be done, it will become apparent soon."
He floated above them but was in plain view.
"Two so far."
----------------
Grandville
"The book does have great power but only to those that believe in it's power. It has so much power simply because it is the original copy and that Alharzed somehow believes that that version makes it so much more powerful." Recluse began.
"Fate is a powerful weapon. Faith is an even more powerful weapon. This is a mixture of the two." Widow explained. "That is why we must ally ourselves with the time menders -- but not as they see it..."
((Horowitz isn't a lizard- he's just green))
[ QUOTE ]
"Very well." Kamarov turned to face the green-skinned brute. "Your name is?"
[/ QUOTE ]
Horowitz drew himself up to his full, considerable height, and announced "I iz de Jager Horowitz, uff de Kestle Heterodyne. Und who might hyu be?"
[ QUOTE ]
"Do not underestimate the Necronomicon, that book has enough power to reduce the world to ashes if used improperly. What this Abdul has done is only a fraction of its abilities."
[/ QUOTE ]
"Pfft... dere's plenty uff things dot can reduce de vorld to ashes- even those schtupid Hellion-boyz haff tried. Hwon more thing, even de big thinky-type book, iz no big deal."[/color] he said with a shrug.
"A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head." Seven Habits of Highly Effective Pirates
MA Arcs: #12285, "Small Fears", #106553, "Trollbane", #12669, "How to Survive a Robot Uprising"
[ QUOTE ]
Pfft... dere's plenty uff things dot can reduce de vorld to ashes- even those schtupid Hellion-boyz haff tried. Hwon more thing, even de big thinky-type book, iz no big deal." he said with a shrug.
[/ QUOTE ]
Ceus raised a hand with the pointer finger extended, readying herself to make a counterpoint when reason got the better of her. Arguing with someone who had no inclination to understand the greater forces of the universe was a task akin to slamming one's head in a door. Yes, you can do it, but for mother earth why?
She lowered her hand and shrugged, mirroring the green man's gesture, "I suppose when one looks at it in such a broad manner, you are correct."
Well. At least it wasn't going to be boring.
Infinity
Sam Varden 50 MA/Reg Scrap
Doomtastic 50 SS/Inv Brute
Ceus 50 Eng/Kin Corr
Cinderstorm 50 Fire/Fire Blaster
"Don't you dare compare the Necronomicon to those two-bit magicians." A young boy said with a clearly irked voice, quite literally spitting the last word. "It's power is great and beyond measure, and you have the gall to reduce it to the level of some pyrokinetic thugs?"
The boy had jet black hair and a, currently, unpleasant face, although generally he was quite handsome. His eyes glared like daggers at the green foreigner who insulted one of the greatest magical artifacts in existance, eyes that seemed to pierce his soul. (Should the brute actually have one.)
His clothes seemed a perfect cross between formality and comfort, his style somewhat similar to that of a familiar serial killer.
A boy just behind him rolled his eyes, brushing his white hair out of them out of habit. Putting a hand on the former boy's shoulder, he signaled him a very quiet 'Shut up' before the conflict escalated.
"Listen, idiot, we're both here on Arachnos's agenda. Let's not irk our ally's, 'kay?"
The smartly dressed youth glared at Jake and sharply turned away, calling him inferior to even the ignorant green oaf, however, stopping his verbal onslaught.
Jake gave Recluse a nod of apology and turned back to the briefing at hand, subconsciously scrutinizing the other supers, despite defending them only moments before.
Ah well, it'll be interesting, anyway.
[u]World Three, Overwatch Central[u]
Lofty sat in his cell doing a crossword puzzle. While this may not have looked appealing to the eye of those from Earth, on World Three his shabby and inhospitable cell was comparable to a luxury suite. A crossword puzzle comparable to a TV or computer.
Long ago, World Three had been a planet not unlike Earth, until an advanced alien race calling themselves the Advent arrived. A powerful race of psions, they enslaved most of the planet mentally before moving in. They had been moving from world to world, sucking each one dry before moving on. Because of the rather impersonal nature of the Advent, the planet's name automatically defaulted to "World Three."
The Advent strip-mined the planet, but then they up and left one day without explanation, never to be seen again, leaving behind all the resources they had harvested in storage bunkers all over the planet. The mental haze that had enslaved the minds of the planet's inhabitants was lifted, and chaos followed shortly. Everyone was at different odds and ends now that the Advent was gone, with two factions eventually rising and trying to seize control in the power vacuum. The Restoration Front, containing some 72% of the population, wanted to undo the damage the Advent had done to the planet and return to the old ways.
And then there was the Overwatch.
Comprised of only 11% of the total population, the Overwatch only had one advantage over its massive opponent. They had all been hand-picked by the Advent to be their enforcers. Armed with the Advent's technology they defeated the Restoration Front and made it look easy.
So now the Overwatch rules World Three, and not much has changed from when the Advent ruled. Concentration camps, core drills, orbital factories. The Overwatch itself is a para-military police force, reigning in a genocidal regime that saw large percentages of the population wiped out ceaselessly. Periodic flash cloning to keep the population at a certain minimum was performed.
And even though the resources of the planet were in their hands, the Overwatch decided the planet hadn't given enough yet. They performed dangerous experiments on the atmosphere itself, polluting and corrupting it until it rained, everywhere, all the time.
Having run out of resources to harvest, the Overwatch came up with a final solution. Strip-mine other planets. This has not yet come to pass, for the Advent never bestowed portal or space technology upon World Three. The Overwatch had to make theirs from scratch, and what they had was unstable and delicate. Even now, only two portals exist, and one is still in its testing phase.
And Lofty, property of the Overwatch Hallowed Branch, was about to be disturbed from his crossword in order to be sent o a certain blue planet that World Three had once not been too much different from. A monitor on the wall in front of his desk suddenly sparked to life to present the Overwatch Hallowed symbol, a targeting reticule bent backwards to look like an over-bearing and malevolent eye, rims and center black with the filling between sterile silver. A short fan-fare played, and a voice spoke.
"Device Lofty, heed the words of the Advent. Rise and prepare yourself for a trial of loyalty." A melodic voice sang.
Lofty rolled his eyes behind his mirrored amber glasses. He was a free agent, or a 'device' of the Overwatch. He worked for them, he used their stuff, he got the perks every member got. But he wasn't indoctrinated with what he considered to be 'over-zealous [censored].' Not that he was allowed to express this opinion. He sighed, put down his crossword puzzle, and stood to attention, awaiting the inevitable barrage of flowery religious holier-than-thou-purpose-could-be words.
"A sacred recording of the Advent has gone missing, its sanctuary defiled, and the heretic responsible has retreated to the outside." The melodic voice intoned.
Lofty raised an eyebrow behind his glasses. The 'outside' was basically the entire universe outside the small area of space surrounding World Three. So saying somebody was hiding in the outside was like saying an atom was hiding inside the sun.
"Has the grace of the Advent allowed you to divine as to where the heretic has fled in the outside?" Lofty asked. His voice had a slight accent to it that was difficult to pin down. It could have been mistaken for British, but...Yea, different world.
"The Warden's evaluations of the heretic's whereabouts are complete." The melodic voice confirmed. "It is a hospitable water planet where the super-predator is a humanoid species indistinguishable from our own. I will leave the details to your Monitor. I hereby charge you, Lofty, independent device of the Overwatch, to recover the Advent's recording from the thief who took it. You may take your leave." The screen snapped off, the Hallowed branch's emblem fading.
Lofty looked down at his crossword puzzle. He was restricted to three a moth. They were large, but even so he was almost done with his last one and he still had half a month to go.
'They'd better give me a new crossword for this. He growled inwardly. 'Probably won't, the cheap skates with their flowing white robes and their stupid bandages and their fancy hairstyles and their [censored] politics and their [censored] ideas of what motivation is...' Lofty grabbed a few dozen replacement sunglasses from his desk, (just in case) and marched out of his cell, still internally cursing his employers and groaning about the lackluster quality of his crossword puzzles. He stepped into a bleak grey corridor with cell doors at certain intervals, and he stormed down it until he picked out one of the doors by memory and stormed on in.
The room was a large gun-metallic grey metal box with four corner ledges that rose half-way to the ceiling, with various apparatus in between the gaps created b these corner blocks and a long string of desks and benches in the center floor where drones worked. These were the Monitors, the proverbial watchers. Their job was to watch the watchers, in this case the Warden branch, and they tended to do a lot of proxy work for the Hallowed branch. Lofty worked with them often in his various assignments, being property of the Hallowed branch himself.
He walked over to the nearest bench where one of the many Monitor drones was working, assembling one relic or another using instructions from a recording left behind by the Advent. He gently shoved the recording from beneath the gaze of the Monitors diodes and coughed politely.
"Device Lofty." The Monitor drone said, lifting its bulbous head to survey the man. "All recordings must be handled with care. Mishandling artifacts of the Advent is a punishable offense."
"So is a Monitor allowing itself to be distracted from its duty. Can we skip this and just get on with the proceedings?" Lofty said irritably.
"Fine." The Monitor said dryly. "I have taken note of your questionable behavior, however. I would tread lightly from now on, device Lofty." The drone met Lofty's gaze through his mirrored glasses for a moment. "Moving along..."The drone proceeded to inform Lofty of Earth. Its measurement systems, how to tell time, how many continents there were, basic geological facts and so forth. Lofty carefully processed it all.
"So I want to avoid fighting, right?" Lofty asked the Monitor.
"Correct. Our plans have not yet accommodated this world, and engaging in unnecessary hostilities could be seen as an act of war. Maximum discretion is advised" The Monitor replied.
"Got it, got it...What do I get for help?" Lofty asked expectantly. This was what he considered the fun part. The useful and whimsical gizmo part where he got things like explosive floss and knives disguised as toupees.
"You get a translator." The Monitor said flatly, pulling a rather normal Overwatch badge from beneath the bench and slapping it in front of Lofty.
He blinked.
"That's it?" He asked in disbelief.
"That will be all." The Monitor said nastily.
Lofty sighed and stuffed the translator in his pocket before heading over to the portal. One of two portals in the entire world, the one which actually worked reliably.
"Before I go, one question." Lofty asked casually as he awaited the portal to warm up. "Do they have crosswords there?"
If the Monitor drone could have narrowed its eyes, it would have. "Device Lofty, I hope you are not considering smuggling foreign luxuries back once your task is complete. Doing so is a punishable offense."
'That means yes.' Lofty thought, mentally cheering. "Absolutely. I also plan on bringing back a bunch of the natives to wreck this place."
"Excuse me?" The Monitor said his words sharp and a mechanical hand reaching beneath his bench.
Lofty waved a placating hand at the Monitor drone.
"It was a joke." He said, smiling an easy smile.
***
[u]New India[u]
In an alley behind one of the many lavish buildings in Alharzed's private nation, the air spun around as though a small dust devil were passing through. Light coalesced, and a swirling disc of golden light briefly illuminated the darkness and Lofty stepped through. The golden discus portal faded behind him.
'Hmm. This place looks posh. Fit for the [censored] Advent themselves, I'd say.' Lofty thought to himself, peering around at the relatively dirty back alley. He spotted the main street, and exited the alley to find...
He didnt look tall. He probably wasnt, for that matter. A hair above average, perhaps? But he didnt look it. He was one of those men who always seemed to be just tall enough to be perfectly normal. He wasnt normal, though. His head was entirely bald. His eyes glowed now and then. He wore a coat in an entirely unseen cut, fitting his chest tightly, but lose at the hips, and long enough that the unbuttoned bottoms brushed his upper calves. His pants were baggy and lightweight. At the knees, they were tucked into boots made of wrapped cloth. A small metal pipe hung at his waist, and his collar was turned up against the damp. His skin was a dull blue, and bolts of energy flickered along his person.
His name, he rarely used. Friends called him Blue, or Noble, or That Damn Immortal as they preferred. Publicly, he was Noble Intent, a former hero of Paragon City. Privately, he was a tired man, who could not rest. When he stood, the weight of that knowledge rose with him.
But he still walked to the portal, and disappeared in a flash of light.
Noble appeared next to Yosef and Seraphimel. He would be slightly dizzy and soon would be back to normal.
"Hey there. Have we met before?" Yosef poked at him.
------------
Recluse nodded at Jake and his apparent charge. "Now that there are a considerable number of you here. It is time that we talk."
"We will embrace the heroes in their attempts to destroy Alharzed." Mako began. "When I tell you embrace, I do mean that we will work along side them in an effort to gain a sense of friendship with them. In essence, there is no real relationship here besides a working one and even that one isn't real."
"We will work with them and we will fight for them, and we will conquer any that stand in our way and what is rightfully mi--ours." Recluse added. "You all will be given a potsition of power over the lands under your seclected Patron and if you do not have a particular favorite, you will go with myself."
The Dervish smiled. "Let there be a new leader in this war against Alharzed. And let his name be Recluse!"
"To the portals!" Black Scorpion being the defacto tank of the group stepped though the portal first and vanished in a flash of light.
Soon after, one by one, every villain and hero that was gathered would be gathered in Ouroboros for final briefing. They were given ample time to socialize with their 'partners', the heroes.
------------
[ QUOTE ]
He spotted the main street, and exited the alley to find...
[/ QUOTE ]
... two muggers stood at oppisite sides of the alley and were waiting for someone or something to attack. They had recently lost their jobs and couldn't afford the upcoming housing payment, they needed money and they needed it fast.
One swung a bat out attempting to hit the would be mugged in the chest while the other circled around and pulled a knife out. The one with the knife appeared to be much younger than the one with the bat -- perhaps his son or cousin?
The younger one spoke, "give us all your money or I swear I'll cut you up!"
Suspicious.
It was times like this that Ceus missed being able to frown. Recluse wanted to team up with heroes to conquer a more powerful evil? Makes sense. Given the power that Abdul currently had, that the plot obviously involved mending the time stream also made sense, but when was he going to stab the heroes in the back, and if Recluse was true to form, betray his former destined ones?
Lord Recluse Share? Might as well ask a hungry wolf not to bite.
She had been a slave to would be conquorers for over five thousand years. Now that the leash was loose, she wasn't about to give it back.
She looked at the gathered villains. Could she rely on them when the time came?
Infinity
Sam Varden 50 MA/Reg Scrap
Doomtastic 50 SS/Inv Brute
Ceus 50 Eng/Kin Corr
Cinderstorm 50 Fire/Fire Blaster
Lofty was hard pressed to answer the muggers, he had just been slugged in the chest by a freaking baseball bat. He tried to choke a response to the one with the knife, holding up an index finger indicating he needed a moment. And then the sky started falling. Just a portion of it, actually. A solitary cloud that couldn't have been there before suddenly fell to the ground incredibly fast to obscure the entire alley in soupy fog so thick the muggers would have trouble even seeing their hands in front of their faces.
Of course, the weather conditions weren't right for fog-You needed a certain level of humidity and the right amount of air pressure. Sometimes you even needed to be a certain distance above sea level. The fog dissapated mere moments after falling out of the sky.
Lo and behold, Lofty had vanished like a magic trick, going back the way he came and out the opposite side of the alley into the street beyond to find...
A man in the corner stood with his eyes closed, although snickering at the events unfolding between the young man and the green German. "Play nice children" a dreamy voice said, although no mouth moved "I think we are all on the same team, for now". He had brown hair that reached his shoulders, which were up about the six foot line. He a white T-shirt that was a tad to big, and khaki shorts, which ere also somewhat big.
He listened to what all the 'patrons' said, but didn't pay to close attention. The man shrugged at the end and walked towards the portal, every stride seemed to slow down at mid-walk. His eyes were closed as he went to the portal. "These things always were a tad annoying" the man said, but still no mouth movement. He turned before stepping into the portal. "Any hero who comes within striking distance of me won't like the resuslts" he said, half disgustedly. He turned and walked through.
[ QUOTE ]
"Don't you dare compare the Necronomicon to those two-bit magicians." A young boy said with a clearly irked voice, quite literally spitting the last word. "It's power is great and beyond measure, and you have the gall to reduce it to the level of some pyrokinetic thugs?"
[/ QUOTE ]
Horowitz grinned toothily at the sharply-dressed boy. "Awww, izn't hyu chust adorable?" he said... it was hard to tell whether or not the total absence of any detectable mockery in his voice made the comment better, or much worse. "Hyu vants de fancy book..." the grin, impossibly, widened, and the Jager hopped into the portal. "Hyu can joinz all de odders fightink over it." his voice lingered behind him, a trace of laughter in it.
Emerging on the floating platform that made up the main Ouroboros base, the Jager glanced around without much interest. No pretty girls were in evidence, and there didn't seem to be much of anyone interested in a friendly brawl, so he simply shrugged, sat, and dangled his heavy military boots over the edge. If Horowitz had been more given to reflection, he might have wondered why Alharzed, if his book was so powerful, would have left alone so obvious a threat to his continued reign.
"A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head." Seven Habits of Highly Effective Pirates
MA Arcs: #12285, "Small Fears", #106553, "Trollbane", #12669, "How to Survive a Robot Uprising"
"Hey there. Have we met before?"
Noble looked up. Standing next to him was another 'hero', if the word could still be used. He looked normal enough.
"No, I don't believe so." The man was probably looking for an introduction. Might as well give him one.
He held out his hand. "Noble Intent."
Dorian looked around the floating platform, noting the arrivals as they appeared through the portal. For a moment, however, his gaze lingered on Noble.
*Is that...Frost? But he looks differ-*
[ QUOTE ]
"Noble Intent."
[/ QUOTE ]
*Ah, I guess not. Woulda been nice to see another 'Bodyguard' here though* Dorian thought to himself, wondering if he would ever end up meeting the others again.
Then Dorian went back to watching the arrivals, and noted that the villains out numbered the heroes, and that they had the Arachnos Patrons with them. He hoped Michael had a good way to counter any offense from the Arachnos side, because with the gathering that was here now, the Heroes would need the assistance.
Global - @El D
Servers - Protector
"Nice to meet you -- you still look familiar." Yosef shook his hand. "Yosef Vanya."
"Appears we have company." The peacebringer floated at the villains. "Hello. I'm glad you decided to show. There will be a short time to talk with your teammates before the briefing beings."
Yosef and Kamarov locked eyes for a few seconds and turned their heads. [Censored] he's here.
The two of them greeted everyone else and ignored eachother for the time being.
---------
When Lofty had vanished, the two men swung their weapons blindly in an attempt to hit him but instead they simply beat eachother up. The older man was stabbed and he let a cry of pain out that could be heard from the other end of the alley.
On the other side of the alley the streets were dead silent. No cars, no people, no nothing. Instead, he was met with the glass fronts of numerous small shops and office buildings who still had cleaning people inside somewhere from the lights that were clearly on.
Security cameras clicked a few times checking every street front for break ins and domestic violence. If Lofty wasn't careful, he could be caught on camera -- and his mist wouldn't blind infared cameras.
---------
I'll be seeing you soon on less pleasant terms.
The phrase rung through his mind. He didn't want his family to be hurt. He loved his wife and his daughter. It finally hit him -- it wasn't them that would be hurt. It was him that would be hurt.
There was a knock on the door. "Open up."
He had several options... he could answer the door and he would probably be met with a baton to the legs and head and then a bag over his head to blind him. Then he would be taken off to the work camps to pay off his debts and probably worked to death.
... he could pretend to be asleep, but then the door would just be kicked in and he would be beaten in a similar fashion as mentioned above.
... he could grab a gun and try to fight them off, but then his family would be deported and he would be executed publicly for treason and promoting violence towards police.
... he could commit suicide...
Lofty would have been wounded had he known someone up there thought he was the Fool on the Hill. He hated fog. It blocked everything out, you couldn't see anything. Not the land or the sky.
Lofty did notice the cameras, but he strolled right on into the street. He wasn't here to perform domestic violence, after all. Lofty was a simple man, and right now he was attending to his basic needs. It was very fortuitous for him that this street was lined with small shops. He walked casually down the street towards the nearest one and proceeded to enter via the door.
"What can I do ya for?" There was a large woman behind the counter who sat in a chair with her legs crossed.
The store that he had walked into was a simple mom and pops type general goods store. They carried everything from food, small useless toys, decorations, posters and sold cans of propane which were kept in a locked cage behind the counter.
Hello. Lofty said pleasantly, his translator working perfectly. Would you have any crossword puzzles?
((Yes, this is a new version of The Necronomicon.))
((Standard RP rules and curteseys apply.))
Abdul Alharzed was always a misunderstood, and often cast aside youth. When he was a teenager, he found a copy of the Necromonicon in his fathers basement, he immediately began to read from this old book and became strangely attracted to the books contents. Although the book was written in a mix of Arabic, Greek, and Latin he understood a vast majority of the book right from the start, this is where he developed his love for ancient texts. Years pasts, Abdul went to college majoring in ancient language study and historical text. By the time he had graduated (he was top in his class) he had become fluent in Latin and Arabic, which led him to unlock secrets of The Necromonicon by reading its texts.
Abdul's life soon became obsessed on finding THE original Necromonicon, and destroying every copy that wasn't the true thing. No one knew why he became obsessed, most common explanation is the book drove him insane. Years past, he still hadn't found THE original Necromonicon but was getting close, he could feel it. He finally arrived in the last place he was planning on looking for The Necromonicon, Delhi, India. He had forced his way past the monks guarding the vault of sacred objects, and demanded that the vault be opened. The confused monks opened the vault (they were under the influence of The Necromonicon), and Abdul slowly removed object after object looking for The Necromonicon.
At last, his years of dedication had yielded the prize he had wanted in his hands since he was a teenager, the original Necromonicon. He spent a good majority of the next several years reading and memorizing the contents of The Necromonicon. During this time, he inherited unearthly amounts of money from aunts, uncles, and other relatives who had passed away that he didn't knew existed. His fortune didn't stop there, he found many precious stones in his backyard, and one of these was The Blood Ruby. He was corrupted by The Necromonicons power and magic, there was no turning back for him. He was given unnaturally long life, and was never sick another day in his life after he had memorized the original Necromonicon.
With his wealth, he bought small war torn counties in Africa, and united them, trained them, and even against impossible odds invaded India, only to have the Indian Prime Minister hand complete power over to Abdul Alharzed. With this new found power, he became a powerful dictator with an iron grip over his county. He worked miracles for his county, wealth pouring in, population skyrocketing, housing for everyone, enough food for everyone and the some, and massive oil deposits off-shore. He built lavish palaces for himself, on the surface he seemed like a very nice dictator, but under it all, it was an act to win two billion peoples hearts and devotion.
Abdul had built his 'perfect' world in India, but it was only /his/ perfect world, but that didn't matter to him, he had billions under his control, he could care less about every single one of them. The palaces he ordered constructed were some of the largest buildings in the entire world, furnished with priceless artifacts, books, rugs, and practically anything you can imagine. Armed guards patrolled the hallways of the palaces (which looked more like museums in some places), thousands of cameras watched every centimeter of the palace. To further his dominance, he placed a world-wide ban on supers, military training, military class weapons, items that could be used in construction of said weapons. All weapons were to be seized on sight, and all supers and those with military training were to be taken with lethal force.
Eventually, people started to see the true man that Abdul Alharzed really was, but they ignored it as the power of The Necromonicon was blinding them. More and more people who openly talked about attempting to overthrow the dictatorship that ruled the county started to disappear for a few days only to come back . . .different. They had lost their free will that Abdul had "given them as a benefit for following him". These people were worked to death in the mines and the oil wells. People started to realize and lose faith in their leader, and then almost as everyone lost faith, something happened.
Abdul Alharzed used The Necromonicon to raise the worlds dead (in certain areas) to invoke fear upon his foes. Many turned to him (and the ones that had turned away from him turned back), and now live under his strict dictatorship, towns are captured by the Undead and are seldom killed, they are usually worked to death in production, mining, and other industrial jobs and then an hour later rise from the dead and work again for all eternity. Abdul's will is almost indomitable, he has a natural will to dominate thus making him a near perfect dictator. Abdul Alharzed is a codename, not his real name. He chooses not to use his real name for reasons unknown, he travels with his personal body guard, Rommel Herrman, also known as Kommandant Thule.