The room was almost pitch black with only the faintest outline of furniture and the dimensions of walls being visible. Perception certainly wasnt being helped by the light mist that hung low in the air, and the room was filled with the fleeting motion of outlines. Outlines that appeared to be people walking around, but just as any attention is focused on them they seem to vanish without a trace
always keeping to the peripheral. The place was so silent it was deafening
absolutely nothing made noise, not even creaks along the floor or the hum of power.
The massive outline of a grand piano rested before towering bay windows, and the minimal light provided by the crescent moon revealed the very solid and very real shape of a woman sitting at the bench, though any details were indefinite. By observing longer, a second person kept to the darkest shadows.
I think it is time to leave, my solemn guardian, A stern, yet longing, voice emanated from the woman, Ive grown weary of this place. The time has come for Helheim to find a new home on Earth. She extended her hand to the dark figure in the shadows, which promptly came forth and gently took it in hand. The woman stood
a very tall woman about six-foot-four and of slender build.
How does the Rogue Isles sound? She asked her servant, I hear there is a lovely place called the Chateau Rouge.
I hear it is beautiful this time of year, A young mans voice came from the shadow, his voice filled with loyalty and reverence.
I hear it is a festering sore, She responded, But it will be a pleasant change of scenery from Paris.
I am sure it will be, He agreed without delay, Should I prepare your luggage, mistress?
No, no that wont be necessary, She caressed the piano, I prefer a fresh start.
Of course.
With a bored wave of her hand, a vortex appeared in the air, but, rather than sucking things into it, it emitted mists. Spectral arms reached out from it, some groping forward while others were waving towards it welcomingly. The matron prompted her servant forward, and he entered swiftly; the woman named Helheim, the High Volva of the goddess Hel, spent a few seconds looking around her bicentennial home relishing the memories before walking into Niflheim, the Realm of Mists.
His leather jacket still smoking from the fire blaster he'd managed to put down at the edge of the Flop, Samuel a.k.a. Gunmetal closed the door behind him and looked around. He was tired. He was tired of being ambushed in his shanty of a home in the Flop. It was time to move on to better things and the bounty he would collect from the blaster (what a stupid newbie) would be large. Blasters were the flavor of the month, especially ones armed with fire. But now he had to figure out his next move.
He sauntered up to the front desk, where Jenkins was dozing. He rang the small bell and Jenkins woke up in a hurry, his chair tipping over.
"Oh, what? Don't tell me I've been reass-- Oh, sir!" Jenkin said in confusion, gradually beginning to notice the leather-clad man in front of him. He was an imposing figure--but then again, they all were. He wore a black leather jacket (how cliche, Jenkins thought) and a belt with two shiny gunmetal pistols in them.
"May I help you?"
"I hear there's a bar in this place. Point me in its direction."
"Sure thing," Jenkins said and turned around. His first assignment. He would have to work hard on this "curiosity" thing. He pointed down a hall to the right. "The bar is right there. Name's Ruby."
"Thanks," Gunmetal said and left a $10 dollar tip on the desk. Jenkins frowned for a moment. He was not a man with morals, but he felt wrong taking money from this man. But it was probably wise not to argue the point with him.
He watched Gunmetal walk off and sat down and started to doze again.
My Arcs: A Spider on the Column (117024)--updated/fixed bugs/small story modifications
Hub (87439)--updated/fixed
"Why don't you tell us about your dream?"
Doctor Goldstein was old and had a permanent frown on his face. Walter didn't want to talk to him. Sitting on the other side of a long table of men in white coats didn't help. They looked at him and took notes. Looked at him and took notes. Their scribbling echoed off the waxed linoleum floors and itched inside his ears. Two orderlies stood on either side of Walter.
"Why am I in restraints? I've been good lately. No incidents in a week. You promised you would remove the restraints."
"Telling us about your dream would be a good show of faith. Why don't we start with that?"
"You've heard it before."
"Again please."
Walter sighed, "I'm on a space shuttle. We're on a mission to go as far away from Earth as possible. We go millions and millions of light-years away. We go-"
"There are other people on the spaceship? Who else?" an old, unattractive woman with thick glasses interrupted.
Walter glared at her, "Are you aware that it's rude to interrupt? It doesn't matter who. I can't see their faces. Even if I did I don't remember. Also, it's a space shuttle, not a spaceship. I'm not crazy," he said as he fidgeted in his straps.
"Anyway, we go as far as we can from Earth. We are right before the point of no return. Not one inch more or else we can't go back home. I get in a spacesuit and go out on a line. Further, further, further. I can barely see the shuttle, but I'm approaching something," Walter began breathing a little harder. He looked anywhere else but at the people.
Doctor Goldstein was impatient, "Continue Walter."
He looked at the row of Doctors, "The line breaks. I'm drifting away from them. I call for help, but they tell me there is nothing they can do. The shuttle turns and goes away. They never even say goodbye. Then it's just me. So far away. So far away that Earth does not exist to me and I do not exist to Earth. I'm in deep space. Alone. Then I start drifting toward something. It's so huge! I can't see the ends of it. Fire, a... a..."
"A sea of fire?" another doctor asked.
Walter glared at him, then at Doctor Goldstein for allowing these people to continue to interrupt, "No. All the seas combined would be less than a drop compared to this. A galaxy of fire. I'm drifting toward it, but it doesn't burn yet. I can see flames the size of planets swirl into each other. I keep going toward it. Earth... home... distant memories. All that exists is me and it. Everything else is void. I'm so scared but I'm not. I don't know what it is but I do."
"What is it?" Doctor Goldstein asked, scribbling notes along with the others.
"The singularity," he whispered, eyes wide with wonder as he tried to picture it again.
More scribbling, "What do you think that means Walter?"
Walter wasn't listening, "Then all of a sudden, coronas a billion miles long blast into me. The energy is so intense! It's frightening. My small body isn't even an atom compared to it. It shouldn't be able to contain this much power."
"Walter. What do you think it means?"
"I know what it means. It sent me back from the future. Something bad happened. Something that wasn't supposed to. I have to stop it."
"What happened? Why does this... singularity care what happens to something as small as us?"
"I don't know. I was born after the world was gone. I don't know why it cares. Or if it really does."
"You were born in 1965 Walter. We have records. It's 1989 now."
"No. They must have known I came back. Made false records."
"They?"
"The ones who destroyed the world. They are planning now. Soon it will be too late. This is why you must remove my restraints. This is why you must let me go. Do you see?"
"I see Walter," Goldstein said without looking up from his scribblings, "I am going to recommend your prescription be increased to eight-hundred milligrams, and-"
"No! No, you can't! I won't let you! The Singularity won't let you!" Walter screamed as he struggled against his restraints, "All your writings and all your paper won't save you from righteous wrath! You'll all burn up in the corona of its furious gaze!"
The orderlies injected him with a syringe, and soon he went limp. He was then taken out of the room.
A mildly powered telekinetic born in Paragon City. His record indicated he'd spent a lot of his young life in hospitals for dementia. After an outburst in Atlas Park using his powers, he had been quickly detained and sent to the Ziggursky Correctional facility in the Psychological Ward. A complex fantasy created in order to escape from reality. Complete with delusions of being special. Nothing he hadn't seen before. Doctor Goldstein closed the file on Walter Gibbs.
He scribbled more notes, and as he dotted an i a deep boom resonated. Goldstein looked around. Alarms began blaring.
One of the orderlies who'd dragged Walter out came running back in, "They're escaping!"
----
Walter woke up. Looking around, he didn't know where he was. Or when. A discarded metal fork was sticking to him. When he tried to peel it off, it stuck to his hand, like he was magnetic. His clothing was unfamiliar. A pyramid loomed above him.
He got up and grabbed a passerby, "Where am I? Am I in Egypt!?"
The shocked man stammered, "S- St. Martial."
"What? What year?"
"... Huh?"
"What year!?"
"2009."
He let the man go and stood shocked. Then he headed off in a random direction.
Travelling through Niflheim only took minutes of travel between Paris and St. Martial that would have taken hours by plane
at least for those who knew their way through the lowest level of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Helheim led her reluctant companion along the mist-covered trails through an eternal winter; she wondered if shed be lucky enough to be gifted by the presence of Hel herself while on her journey. She knew better than to seek the goddess out unless there was a dire need for planning
in which case Hel would find her first.
The faintest outlines of phantoms stood at the edge of the mists, though it was nearly impossible to discern who or what they were. Some were curious, others were hostile, but all feared her for she was favored. They always dissipated at her approach.
Helheim suddenly stopped and reached her hand out to feel the air. This location was rather unassuming, just a bit of trail surrounded by a few dead trees. She was searching for the invisible threads that connected this ancient realm to the physical world, which only those who knew its sacred rights could find. After a few seconds, her hand stopped and stroked the invisible strand
it was thick and strong; she found the knot and pulled it loose. A vortex opened into the physical realm, similar to the one she used to enter Niflheim, appearing several paces ahead of a certain Walter Gibbs.
Her faithful servant stepped through the portal first
and now that he wasnt hidden in darkness or mists one could take note of his appearance. The young man was no taller than five-and-a-half feet and appeared no older than eighteen or nineteen, yet looks are deceiving and the man was far older than even Marcus Cole. He was of lean build and wore the suit of a distinguished young gentleman. The blazer and matching pants were a dusky forest green; he wore the grey undershirt casually with the top few buttons left open. His rich chocolate hair was short and parted, and he cautiously observed St. Martial with dull-grey eyes. Though the true focus of interest was the intricate large black-iron pendant he wore around his neck with a fist-sized polished emerald set in the middle. It seemed more like a collar than jewelry.
After a few moments, his mistress returned to the mortal world. She stood a full foot taller than her servant and held herself with poise. Her bolero was a deep forest green with intricate silver-embroidering along the sleeves and tail, the fur of the Winter Wolf accented her shoulders. One half of her outfit was generous in exposing her flesh except for the portions covered by her light-iron corset or her bottoms that wove around her left leg; the other half had the same corset and bottom-design, however every inch of skin was hidden by green metal. She wore a mask that mimicked her outfit; half revealed her true beauty: high cheek bones, youthful and taut skin, luscious lips, a sparkling deep blue eye, and long brunette locks. The other half of her head was completely encased in that same green metal, and although it was beautiful, it had the expression of a cold mistress judging those beneath her even the eye was hidden behind a black gem.
Helheim raised her arms to greet St. Martial with a smile across half her face, though her servant immediately spotted Walter down the way from them.
Mistress, He whispered to her, We have a new friend approaching. Though the way he said friend was obviously not the standard definition. She slowly looked at whom he was referring with open curiosity.
Well, hes a cute one, She muttered before calling out to him, You appear to be a charming fellow, would you mind helping a stranger? Ive just arrived as you can see, and I really dont know much about this land. Which was a lie, she had been to the Rogue Isles countless times in her life, Perhaps you could assist me, and tell me where I could find lodgings or a meal? Helheim extended her hand forward in greeting, Youre welcome to join me.
A smile curled along her lip as she looked intently at him.
Approaching the locale of the bar, Gunmetal may have well spotted a pair of patrons in one of the booths of the shady, Oriental-styled place. Odd how career criminals seemed more attracted to eateries with Asian settings. Perhaps it was the lack of bright light, replaced by dull tones of red and soft yellow. Perhaps it was the rumor that those who earned the Chef's disapproval might be redeemed via 'contribution' to a special recipe. Whatever the cause, it seemed to work well enough for the place to remain respected, intact, useful, and profitable.
"I dunno..." said one of the patrons in the semi-circular booth, giving the two plenty of space at opposite sides of the table - and judging from the uncertain visage of the rather average-looking man (he could've been best described as a standard 'mercenary medic' sans helmet), he duly appreciated said space.
"All you have to do is fly." rasped/hissed back the other man - if that creature could even have been called a man. Sure, the tone sounded male, but the similarities to a human ended with the presence of two arms, two legs, and one head.
He was either a drastic mutation or just altogether alien, his frame of just over 1.8 meters encased in some manner of dull-red, chitinous-looking exo-armor that wrapped fully about his body, including plantigrade feet as a pair of boots and five-fingered hands in the form of dexterous, tough-looking gloves. Still, his head was the most esoteric part, a long, bronze cranium that could've had as much to do with a reptilian as an insectoid.
Sporting a ventilator that added black to the hue of its owner's armor, the visage peeked out halfway from under the dirt-brown hood of a wide, cape-like cloak, ruby-red compound eyes duly visible to any observer keen enough. This was a villain that few would are tangle with, a mercenary from another star whose sole goal in life was the acquisition of money. This was the Scorpion Mercenary Ilar-Ilan Akeem.
At this point, however, this reputation seemed to have a significant downside, for the man whose services Agent Akeem presently desired wasn't so sure he wanted to work for someone like that. Sure, he was a 'villain', a member of the Scarlet Society even, but he didn't really do the heavy stuff. He just flew a helicopter. Granted, it was a rather evil machine, designed to facilitate transportation for criminals in and out of hot zones in a world of superheroes...but still. This guy gave him the creeps.
For a moment, he wished he'd never seen the posting for that job up for grabs. Still, it did promise to be highly lucrative, even though it warned that there might well be a significant amount of danger involved...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
What had happened? Did he black out for twenty years? No. He was still young. Did he imagine that it had been 1989 before? Was he insane? Where did the clothes come from?
He walked on a nervous course through St. Martial. He got strange looks and long, cold stares from people. This place wasn't friendly.
[ QUOTE ]
You appear to be a charming fellow, would you mind helping a stranger? Ive just arrived as you can see, and I really dont know much about this land. Which was a lie, she had been to the Rogue Isles countless times in her life, Perhaps you could assist me, and tell me where I could find lodgings or a meal? Helheim extended her hand forward in greeting, Youre welcome to join me.
[/ QUOTE ]
"Oh," Walter said trying to discreetly shake the fork off his sleeve. Finally it fell, and scraped on the ground toward him until he took a step away from it.
"Hello," he shook her hand, "My name is Walter."
Each word was spoken as if he were just discovering it. She seemed strange. A lot must have happened since 1989.
"Food and lodging? Follow me," he said.
He didn't know where there was, but he didn't lie the way he said it. This way he wasn't alone. She seemed nice. She didn't seem like Them. However, as the walk progressed he felt uneasy. It seemed luck was not on his side as they strode past everything but food and lodging.
Finally they arrived at a place. Chateau Rouge. A sign said a bar was in the back. Walter sighed. Across the street in a vacant lot a beaten up, run-down bus sat with no tires on the ground. On it someone had spraypainted, "New Bus."
"Well, here we are... What is your name?" he asked, sounding less shell-shocked this time, "And where are you from if you don't mind me asking?"
[ QUOTE ]
"All you have to do is fly."
[/ QUOTE ]
Gunmetal caught this fragment of conversation on his way to the bar, briefly wondered what it meant but continued towards the bar. It was better than most bars he had been in, although a little dark. But what bar wasn't? Still, this bar was more stylishly decorated than he was used to. The Oriental features were a nice touch, he had to admit.
He tapped the table and a door opened. Out stepped a woman in a long, flowing fiery red skirt. Her necklace plunged all the way down to her navel, revealing porcelain skin. Sigils of small dragons with ruby eyes were embossed over her breasts.
"What's it going to be, mister?" she asked in a voice like creamed butter whipped with silk. He felt a strong, immediate pull toward her, but he realized this was just part of her "charm" and merely smiled at her. "Double shot of whatever''s the hardest thing you have here."
She considered this for a moment, her deep red lips opening slightly for a moment and then curving into a smile. "Bloodred Rum it is, then." She extended a long, feminine hand for him to take. "Name's Ruby."
Gunmental grunted. Ruby smiled at him and poured something from beneath the counter. She put it in front of him, touched her finger to her lips and then dipped her finger into the clear liquid, causing it burst into flames. "Your Bloodred, sir," Ruby said, handing it to him. He took it with a slight nod and downed it, aflame. He put it on the counter.
"Another?"
He nodded again and she took the glass and poured him another. This time, it was already aflame. She never performed the same trick twice. This was mutually understood between her and her patrons without either one of them having to speak.
Gunmetal nursed his drink this time and listened to the drifts of conversation around him, but in a way that did not let on he was eavesdropping.
My Arcs: A Spider on the Column (117024)--updated/fixed bugs/small story modifications
Hub (87439)--updated/fixed
To say the building was falling apart would be kind. The rundown shack was in St. Martial however it was in one of the worst Neighborhoods. Yesterday they shut down electric so Trever was reading the spell by candle light.
"I teach them I teach them all!" He drew the circle on the floor with a bit of calk. "First Azura and the Magi will suffer then I make that no good Zombie beg for death!"
He mumbled as he continued how such a perfect spell could go so wrong. One moment Trever was dancing with joy the next he was being attacked by his own creation.
He set down the calk and lit the last of the candles. Then he raised his hands and knelt down starting the spell. Chanting the spell he saw a shape form in the circle. Soon the form took a form and looked at Trever. "Why you summoned me?"
"I Want Revenge against those that done me wrong! I want the power that was denied me!" In his excitement Trever moved just enough to damage the calk circle.
"I can tell you had used power over the dead? This is what you desire the power of death?"
"Yes! I shall be the most power Necromancer of all time!"
"Then Death is what you shall have." With that the demon flew forward passing over the now damaged circle and entering Trever. "AGH... No..."
Trever fell to the floor his body twisting and bending. Then he rose up and dusted off the dust. "Not the best body I had used but I can work with this." The now feed demon went to a mirror and looked at the image. "Such a wimp perhaps another body shall be better."
The demon possessed Trever left the shack and walked along the street. Wailers turned taking notice of him and screamed. He turned and blasted dark energy at the minor demons.
He cast another spell and the area under the Wailers became dark and slowed the beasts down. He let them be as he searched for a new Host.
He found one a construction worker. Trever's now lifeless body dropped to the ground as the shadow demon flew to the man. The darkness wrapped around the worker and he barely had time to scream before he was taken over.
Now with a new body he flexed and smiled. "Now this is more like it." He looked around and started walking down the street.
Meanwhile behind the Chateau Rouge a small 4 foot tall lizard creature moved among the dumpsters sniffing about as his forked tongue flicked out. Then he moved with surprised speed and captured a rat then swallowed it. "Yum yum!"
Helheim looked up at the Chateau Rouge
it had a slight touch of elegance; she liked it, it was much better than several of the other rundown apartments in the Rogue Isles. She did frown at the eyesore across the way in the vacant lot. Her loyal servant stayed a safe distance behind the two, always observing.
[ QUOTE ]
"Well, here we are... What is your name?" he asked, sounding less shell-shocked this time, "And where are you from if you don't mind me asking?"
[/ QUOTE ]
She looked down at Walter and smiled, during their journey she made sure to keep him on her good side. She didnt approve of the demeanor of St. Martials locals; their stares were harsh, but petty
something shed have to change. She had a lot of work ahead in St. Martial.
My mistress name is Helheim, Her guardian spoke up darkly; he didnt seem to like Walter too much, but a sharp glance from his mistress prompted him to change his attitude.
Please, you can call me Valerie, The name slid off her tongue without the slightest hint of restraint; it wasnt her true name
names carried a lot of power and she didnt want hers falling into the wrong hands. In Paris, she was Charlotte, so in the Isles shell be Valerie, I just arrived from Paris
I just finished my season tour of that lovely country. Have you ever been there, Mr..?
Helheim left her sentence hanging, hoping her guide would introduce himself.
After the beating she received and the death threats and being locked in the jail sell, all of her gadgets taken away save the claws in her hands, she walked. She had no were to walk to as she couldn't go back to her old house no the seers would be waiting she just knew they would. She found her self walking down a beat up neighborhood, People were watching her she could feel all the eyes on her she wasn't worried how ever even in her current condition she could take a few street thugs.
She found her self stopped at a mediocre building called Château Rouge the with a sign that red Bar in back and cheap rooms up stairs.
well this is as good as place as any she mumbled to herself this was definitely not what she was used to but this would be her life for the next few years any way. She walked in and nearly hit a tired man getting some coffee. She allmost out burst at him for not getting out of the way but stopped and said Hello, do you know were I can get a room?
yes my name is Jenkins ill sign you in over here. Ill take it you want a room with a shower?
what... oh ummm yea that would be great thanks, and how late is the bar open?
I beileve its open until two or three A.M. You room will be Second floor room 223 would you like help getting there?
No thanks I got it. Oh and i would like to be left alone tonight so no visitors.
Alright heres your room key I just need you to sign here. he pointed down to a piece of lose leaf paper with a few names scratch on it, she made sure to take note of the names. As she wrote her own down. She began to write Fort- no that was wrong she was not a fortunata any more she wrote Kahlan and then scratched out a few unreadable letters for a last name.
She started walking to her room the whole place smelled like alcohol and cigarette smoke she sighed again if only things had gone better she would be in a huge bed and a full stomach. She got to her room looked at the raggedy bed and saw there were atlest no windows in the room. She took of her cloths and went to take a shower when there was a knock on the door she didnt answer. The door began to open.
I SAID NO GUEST AT THE DOOR, that means room service aswell! the door slammed shut. She took a hurried shower got dressed in her spare cloths and headed for the bar
As she made her way to the bar she got a few odd looks from people but most went on there way She sat down got a cheap drink with little alcohol in and was going to ease drop but decided against it she walked up to a gentleman and said
I see your sitting by your self would you like some company?
((sorry if im doing somthing wrong here this is my first time))
[url="http://teenage-kid.deviantart.com/"]My Da page![/url]
Virtue
Ninja-Bee- 50 Ninja/Dark MM
Aqurian Draconum- 50 Archery/Fire Blaster
Korrawi- 50 Super Strength/Invulnerability Tank Plus many others!
Jenkins was almost calm. Things were going well. Customers were coming in and he'd already made some tip money. As long as he remembered to do just his job, this would be easy.
That's when he felt a chill run down his spine. In fact, his entire body was getting cold. Shivering loudly, he looked around for the air conditioning controls. Probably some technomancer or cyberhacker having a go with him and he noticed a young woman--early to mid-twenties examining the notice board.
Right away he noticed her short light blue hair. Hard to tell if it was natural or a dye job in the Rogue Isles, so he shelved that line of thought. Her entire body was encased in a dark blue metallic suit with spikes off the forearms and back of the legs. A design in light blue was emblazoned on the suit's torso, but he didn't recognize it as meaningful, probably just decrative.
He took a few moments to consider it before he got out from behind the desk and approached the woman. As he approached he got felt more and more cold. Standing five feet away from the girl it was probably twenty degrees colder. She had bright blue eyes, but her face was mostly covered by a respirator that fit over her mouth and nose.
"Can I help you?"
She jumped at his voice, and a sword of ice formed in her hand. She put her back to the wall, and the papers on the notice board cracked as they froze. Jenkins winced as it got even colder around the chick.
After a moment, the girl relaxed and the sword dissapated into vapor. The air warmed to just slightly colder than before he got out of his chair.
Her voice was young, but tinged with a hollow sound as it passed through the respirator. "Oh. Sorry. Sign said something about apartments."
"You want one?" he offered.
"I have...special needs in terms of housing. This place up to it?"
Jenkins walked back over to his desk. "I can guess. Low temp? It costs more, but we have a couple of units. In the basement though."
"How much?"
Jenkins listed the price, and amenities available. Not bad for a first pitch he considered.
"I'll take it."
The Rogue Isles didn't require much paperwork, and it was done in short order. The first and last month's rent and security deposit all cleared, so he handed the keys over. Unit 0001.
"Would you like to be put on the resident listing? We can direct job offers directly to your messages. All we require is your professional name."
"Cryokinetic."
Instead of going straight down, Cryo headed for Ruby's. As soon as she stepped into the bar, everyone could notice a temperture drop as she made her way into the dimly lit bar.
"Yes, that's me. No I can't turn it off. I can direct it at other people for a small fee though." she announced before taking a seat at the far corner of the bar.
Infinity
Sam Varden 50 MA/Reg Scrap
Doomtastic 50 SS/Inv Brute
Ceus 50 Eng/Kin Corr
Cinderstorm 50 Fire/Fire Blaster
(( Actually it is supposed to be the nice part of town, in a nice building, well decorated and furnished and clean. Very business modern like. I had not yet time to write this post. ))
The streets of St. Martial bustled busily this time of day. The Chateau Rouge stood well, just off the center of it. Being both an apartment complex and a business firm, zoning for the structure was a bit complicated. But Ms. Scarlet used her contacts well to get it placed as close to the commercial center as possible.
She left her car behind, choosing instead to walk this day. She paid no mind to the other pedestrians however, instead admiring the structure. There was nothing particularly special about the building's design. For the most part, it stood straight and tall as any other city skyscraper. For the first 11 floors, it took the shape of a wider and deeper rectangle, filling most of the building's plot, minus some outside gardening and the back alley. The next and final 5 floors formed a smaller rectangle, in all dimensions, located centrally above the rest of the building. As most buildings of the style, it's entire outsides were panelled in glass, providing the multiple rooms above with plenty of light and wonderful views.
The empty lot across the street drew her eyes for a brief moment. It was an eyesore. The business previously located there went under. Someone bought the land, tore down the old building, then went defunct themself. Now it seems someone had dumped an old bus into the lot. She made a mental note to make some calls about that.
She stood in front of the Chateau Rouge. Her image consultants came up with the name. She mentally noted to fire them the next time. The image of a deep red carnation flower adorned the top of the name. That was her touch.
Ms. Scarlet entered through the main doors. No one jumped to attention in any particular fashion, or really took notice. She was not known down here. She prefered it that way. Instead she was just another patron and potential guest. To her immediate right spread the reception counter for check in and guest services. There was some new employee there that she did not recognize. But that did not matter. To her left was the door and dark red windows leading into Ruby's bar and grill. It drew in some 'guests' that might not otherwise take notice of the establishment here. Shockingly, few of the patrons appeared as business professionals, but rather filled a variety of looks. Not to mention that a good majority were likely supers.
Farther into the ground level, spreading out towards the right around reception sat the rest of the lobby. The cool, crisp right angles of modern business featured heavily, full of neutral tones and devoid of decoration with the exception of the red carnations featured throughout.
A second counter sat along the far wall of the lobby. Near it, signs stood advertising her brokerage firm, and the benefits of membership. In red, above the counter, it read, 'Scarlet Society.' Employees were stationed on hand to answer questions and sign up new members. Other companies could also send their representatives to this desk, though the business also provided phone and internet services for accomplishment of all the above.
One area of the lobby was arranged as a lounge. There, seating and coffee was available. Four televisions streamed in the latest from CNN, MSNBC, FOX News, and the local Arachnos 'owned' station. On regular intervals, the feeds would pause while an advertisement for the Scarlet Society played. In another section, a small number of internet computers were available for public access. And there was also vending available, whether one wanted snacks, drinks, or the latest newspaper.
To the far right side of the lobby were the elevators, several of them, between the two counters. Ms. Scarlet walked directly to them and pressed one of the 'up' buttons. Upon arrival, she entered and the door closed. A variety of buttons were available. At the bottom was an 'L' - the lobby, where she had come from and the ground floor. Next to that sat a 'B' - the basement level. Upwards, the buttons were labeled with numbers 1 - 9, indicating the various rooms available for rent, either as long term apartments or for shorter durations as desired. At the top, sitting midline above the rest like the apex of a pyramid, and written in red, was a button marked 'SS' - the Scarlet Society. She pushed it.
Officially, it was the 11th floor. She exited the elevator and entered into a small lobby. A counter sat just off the side, providing further information services. In front of her stood the very thick and deep red glass double doors leading into the center of operations. Before them stood several guards. Those standing stiffened. Those sitting stood. She was recognized at this level. Nonetheless, she withdrew her ID card and swiped it through a computer near the counter. It buzzed happily in confirmation of her identity.
The card looked much like any credit card, with name, a long number, and a photo. The background was red with a stylized 'SS' in the top left corner and a 'large' watermark of a carnation in the center. It quickly disappeared back into her purse as she walked through the entry passage. Carnations decorated the area with increased frequency, followed by other greenery.
The hallway opened up near the center of the building, within the smaller rectangle, into a large open atrium area. Two elevators rode upwards along each of the four walls. Several individuals flew up and down the open center. Some others simply leapt or teleported. Looking upwards, she could see the balcony hallways marking each of the remaining 5 floors. Along the ceiling, in the center, large sunlight panels let in natural light to the base floor. On her level, at the center of the atrium, stood a fountain surrounded by beautiful plants and sweet smelling flowers.
The rest of the base level, the 11th floor, spread out in all directions to fill out the large rectangle. There were offices, conference rooms, lounges, recreation, a computer room, a gym, tactical simulations, and a very well insulated firing range. The above floors featured more offices, some small laboratories and research centers, and some extra special private rooms.
Most of the membership and many employees lived in the below apartments, enjoying the perks of SS discounts, all as part of the package. But for those needing very special conditions or privacy, a number of rooms existed above for these purposes.
For all the simple business-like decorum, it played down the great number of hidden cameras, microphones, and weapon emplacements...for security of course. And a dedicated security staff, directly employed by the Society. There were enough supers around as well of course.
With proper greetings from those educated enought to know who she was, Ms. Scarlet took the elevator up to the highest level and dissappeared into one of the rooms.
(( Questions? Direct to ooc. ))
Unfortunately for Gunmetal, eavesdropping on this pair's conversation proved somewhat fruitless. Apart from that it concerned a big job in which a not insubstantial of money was involved, the discussion didn't have a lot of meat on it. Well, that and that Agent Akeem would be looking for more crew. Thus just asking about it would likely produce better results. Of course, it was far from the only option.
"A moment." the Osh'kan rasped to his counterpart across the table, then stood and headed for the far end of the bar with unhurried, deliberate step - the step of a villain who knew exactly what he wanted and exactly how to get it.
And so the infamous Scorpion Mercenary approached Cryokinetic.
"How small a fee?" his ventilator gave a click, the alien getting right to the point, not bothering to remark on anything, least of all his inhuman aura, "And can you turn it up? If so, how many tons of water would you say you could freeze...?"
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
St. Martial passed beneath him, an interesting study in undulating landscape covered by the tall rectangles of human engineering.
Having seen the silvery Deco splendor of Paragon City from sea level, but at a distance of ten miles or so, the Last Prince of Mars was more circumspect and attentive now that he was seeing this part of the Rogue Islands, from the air and at high speed. A varied area, with new locations, new threats, new sources of power, technology and slaves. Boris the Russian, his First Slave, had described the apparent nest of a human power-clutch calling itself the "Scarlet Society", and Prince Gashanatantra hoped to spot the place from above, rather than having to walk the squalid streets of yet another mega-ghetto belonging to the Earth's dominant species of monkey-men. Little did the ultimate royal personage desire to stalk the grimy, ill-smelling streets below, if he could avoid it.
His red eyes glanced above and behind him; high in the strato-cumulus, he could just make out the white slim line of the exhaust given off by his robotic Delivery Pod, traveling after him at jet-speed, carrying its payload of Martian servitor robots, including the Prince's glowing achievement, the Destructotron. These mecha-soldiers and servants, their carrier following its owner using an integral global location system interfaced with a single, geosynchronous Martian satellite, awaited the Last Prince's summons, to wait upon him or to rain laser death on his foes.
For himself, the Last Prince rode the blue Earthen skies comfortably. Encased in a nigh-impenetrable personal force field, his articulated, beautiful black Titanotherium wings were locked in 'cruise' position. His rocket boots, spewing long white-blue trails leading to miles-spanning contrail clouds, hurtled him along at trans-sonic speeds. He had marveled at the impossible vistas of horizon-spanning Earth waters; but now, the globs of unsightly land below needed his attention. He had a human slave in the headquarters of this supposed Scarlet Society, and his other slave's information told Gashanatanra that perhaps lingering at said HQ might bring him closer to power, income and ultimately, world domination, as was his desire.
The soaring glint of red light, tracing a precise white contrail behind it, descended on St. Martial, as the sun moved, red and angry, down towards the ocean-girded horizon.
Cryo tried not to appear disturbed by the appearance of the Scorpion Mercenary. She garnered her own fair share of odd looks herself, and it was rude to stare.
Quickly calculating her current expenses, Cryokinetic offered her rates, "Non powered hits are two grand, everything else is dependant on the risk."
"I can freeze an olympic swimming pool--that's roughly 2,500 tons of water. Takes about an hour--and leaves me fairly tapped afterwords."
Infinity
Sam Varden 50 MA/Reg Scrap
Doomtastic 50 SS/Inv Brute
Ceus 50 Eng/Kin Corr
Cinderstorm 50 Fire/Fire Blaster
The sun was setting and he was still weakened by the fools demon summoning and the take over of his new body. He needed to rest and his body needed food.
Thought still dressed as a construction worker people no longer thought he was one. They moved out of his way and even crossed the street. The reason was the transformation his body has undergone. It was simple modifying the flesh to suit his needs. The eyes were now two black orbs showing no whites or color, his skin was now snow white or ash white if you prefer. Hair was falling out in clumps soon there wouldn't be any body hair on the figure. In short the man that walked into the Chateau no longer looked like a normal human at all.
He looked around the grand lobby. "Things have changed much since I last walked the earth." He spoke softly both in ways to get used to a physical mouth and speech as well as just thinking out loud.
He approached Jenkins who was finally getting over the chilly arrival of Cryokinetic. So looking up at the black eyed white face of Phantom Wraith gave him another jump. "Can I help you?"
Phantom nodded "I need housing and employment" he leaned forward in a silent challenge.
Jenkins swallowed "Sir I'm sorry if you have no funds you can't get a room but I make a call to inform the upper office that someone looking for employment. I take it you wish a long term contract?" He looked about as he thought "Yes a decade or so be fine."
"What name do you go under?"
"My real name is not important but I shall go under the name Corson Porter" he looked around thinking "My business name is Phantom Wraith."
He left Jenkins as he made the call to the upstairs and headed into Ruby's. Once inside the Oriental styled bar he went to the bar itself and sat down pulling out the now dead Construction worker's debit card. "Rouge isle Ice Tea" he pulled the name out of his host body's memories. Was something like a Long island ice tea but stronger what ever that was. "And a club sandwitch with fries."
__________________________________________________ _
Outside the lizard creature moved to the empty lot and claimed into his new home. It was an old bus with the pretty words "New Bus" sprayed on it. But for Ghob-lin it was the location of his latest nest a few of the remaining seats was ripped apart and he put all the stuffing in the back and laid down falling asleep.
Down the street a little from the Chateau, a door opened. A fairly common occurance in any city, but the woman who stepped out through it was anything but common. If the short pair of horns sprouting from her forehead and the deep, almost blood red hair didn't give enough of a clue, the sleeveless black trenchcoat topped with (probably excessively) spiked shoulderlads and the tight pants, flared at the bottom and with a golden tribal pattern down each side, should be more than enough to convince anyone that this was someone more than average.
"Hardcase is gonna owe me double for that one...", she muttered angrily to herself. "Place was massive." Continuing to mutter angrily to herself she stalked off down the street, stopping in front of the Chateau. "A bar, huh? Hmm, might as well." Shrugging, she pushed the door open and went in.
"Hmm. Nice place", she commented, looking around before wandering over to the bar. But her intent to grab something to drink was shoved aside by her overhearing a certain Scorpion Mercenary asking about fees. "Hiring for something, are you?", she asked, looking over to them.
[Admin] Emperor Marcus Cole: STOP!
[Admin] Emperor Marcus Cole: WAIT ONE SECOND!
[Admin] Emperor Marcus Cole: WHAT IS A SEAGULL DOING ON MY THRONE!?!?
[ QUOTE ]
Please, you can call me Valerie, The name slid off her tongue without the slightest hint of restraint; it wasnt her true name
names carried a lot of power and she didnt want hers falling into the wrong hands. In Paris, she was Charlotte, so in the Isles shell be Valerie, I just arrived from Paris
I just finished my season tour of that lovely country. Have you ever been there, Mr..?
[/ QUOTE ]
Walter felt uneasy suddenly. Even if she wasn't one of Them, it was dangerous to give out his name. He shouldn't have even said his real first name.
"Just Walter please," he said blushing because he knew it was rude.
He wasn't able to think of one on the spot. Not with her. She had him on his heels from first sight until the indefinite future. The way she chose her words was strange. But she did say she wasn't from here. Her clothes were strange too. Beautiful, but strange.
"Paris?" He said, "Never been there. I'd like to someday though."
As they came closer the bar, Ruby's came into view. He realized he had no idea whether or not he had money. He scratched at the tussled black hair on his head and reached into his pocket. There was a crumpled ten dollar bill. Even by 1989 standards that was pushing it for a meal for three at a bar.
"I can buy... our meal," he said having no idea what time it was, "I think."
[ QUOTE ]
"I can freeze an Olympic swimming pool--that's roughly 2,500 tons of water. Takes about an hour--and leaves me fairly tapped afterwords."
[/ QUOTE ]
Well after the attempt at some conversation and little luck with it she had found her self eavesdropping on this conversation. Now she could have just walked back up to her room went to bed and then go talk to Jenkins in the morning but what fun would that be.
"Hello, I hear that you have a job to be done, well i cant freeze any water but,cryo here may need some protection if she needs to focus on the water to freeze it at any quick speed and well im just the person to do that." They just looked at her blankly.
"well my name is for"-No she was not a fortunata after what she had done or failed to do."call me Spider Mistress.Im am an X-Arachnos Agent and im quiet good at defending people i was A personal body guard of lord recluse."
((edited to take out the hijacking and bad English (well the best that i can heh) and sorry DeviousMe for that please don't be to mad at my noobness. ))
[url="http://teenage-kid.deviantart.com/"]My Da page![/url]
Virtue
Ninja-Bee- 50 Ninja/Dark MM
Aqurian Draconum- 50 Archery/Fire Blaster
Korrawi- 50 Super Strength/Invulnerability Tank Plus many others!
((Written with DeviousMe))
The Château Rouge was cleaner, and had more consistent maintenance than what Jenkins was used to. He'd also had to clean himself up to get the job sitting in the lobby. The pay was better, so he swallowed that pill and carried his luggage to St. Martial.
At ground level there was a bar called Ruby's on one side of the building, the lobby on the other. Stepping into the lobby, he wouldn't have even known there was a bar at all if he hadn't come from the opposite side. Good insulation. There was also air conditioning. He was going to like this place. To the right, there were vague postings for jobs and phone numbers to call. At the header of some of the listings were the words, "Scarlet Society." He'd heard of them. They contracted out jobs from people that didn't want to get their hands dirty. Or sometimes those that did and just wanted help along for the ride.
"You're my replacement?" A young man said.
"Yeah. There a problem?" Jenkins replied.
The young man stared for a moment, "No. I guess not. Let me show you how things work."
He told him the rate for each type of apartment, which there were many. How to buzz an apartment. How to sign people in and so on.
"A lot of people come and do... recruiting here. It's best to not interfere with it," the young man said.
"I don't plan to."
"It's also good practice to not ask a lot of questions."
"I'm not a curious fellow," Jenkins said.
"Well," the young man said, "That's it I guess. Good luck."
"Thanks," Jenkins said to the man's back as he walked quickly out the door.
He looked around, and sighed, twiddling his fingers as he waited for the first person to walk through the door.
((Welcome to the Chateau Rouge. All villain types welcome. From the down on their luck, to the masterminds with volcano bases and private armies. Get an apartment cheap, post/get a job through the Scarlet Society, or socialize at Ruby's. The standard RP rules apply. Do not destroy the building. Do not god mode. If your character can kill gods and hurl planets, they don't need any help from us mortal types, and don't hijack other peoples' concepts and characters without their permission. Basically, stick to common courtesy: if you don't want something done to you, don't do it to others.
A few suggestions also apply. Do not bring in a villain who is unlikeable and will not cooperate with anyone. Conversely, this is a villain thread, so careful if you bring in an anti-hero. Villains don't tend to get along well with either of these character types.))