WarpLocke
The Zig - Now
The door provided little resistance. It led to little more than a large maintenance closet. Out of sight, out of the way, containing nothing of sufficient interest to warrant much security; there was no alarm, and the lock wasn't acid-proofed. WarpLocke stepped inside and leaned heavily against the wall, looking down, his breathing laboured.
He heard the footsteps as they filed in from the corridor, and turned to face them: six familiar faces, wearing smug smiles of triumph.
"Thought you'd find yourself a place to hide, hero?" the leader asked, closing the door behind him. "Too bad you got yourself cornered again. You ain't got that mutant freak to back you up this time."
Hank shook his head. "Ain't me that's got trouble learnin'. You really think if I was hiding, I'd be so easy to find?"
The gang leader laughed. "Nice bluff. Feel like backing it up?"
Hank had thought about elaborate ways to kill all six of them, but quite apart from the pointless waste of effort - one or two would do just fine - he just didn't have the power. This was all going to hang on one chance, to play the ace he had up his sleeve and hope it kept him alive until the guards showed up.
The leader advanced. Hank noticed he'd tied thick strips of cloth around his hands and wrists; apparently he was smart enough to learn one lesson.
Hank straightened up, still feigning weakness; he reached out to his right, as if to steady himself, and flicked the lightswitch off. The room plunged into darkness.
The ex-Skulls froze, blinded. Hank smiled, and removed his shades. His super-sensitive vision wasn't perfect, but he could easily see well enough to grab the gang leader, and pull him close. He gripped the sides of the man's head, holding it steady despite his struggles as he stared into the man's eyes.
Twin beams of sickly green light shone from WarpLocke's eyes into his victim's. The room filled with an acrid, burned smell. The other gang members stared the green-lit tableau, horrified, as their leader's struggles slowly ceased. WarpLocke held the pose until the man went limp in his grip, then dropped him to the floor.
The impact broke the spell. The remaining gang members began to scream for help, scrambling for a door they could no longer see. It would only a matter of moments before the guards arrived.
WarpLocke grabbed one of the exposed water pipes on the wall beside him, and wrenched it free of its housing. His strength was fading, but he was in the dark with five terrified men holding the closest thing any of them had to a weapon.
By the time the guards burst in, only WarpLocke was left standing. The baton-wielding guards stared at the scene in disbelief, then closed in. WarpLocke managed to get one or two solid hits in before the rain of blows began to fall, and the world began to fade.
"Holy [censored], what did he do to this guy...?"
"...think one or two of them might still be breathing..."
"...this psycho to D Block!..."
And here we go...
Knights Exemplar: Wolfram, Autumnfox, Starlit Spirit.
Militia: The Portent, Wavekite, Mr. Sandman.
The Cadre: WarpLocke, Zajin.
Numerous others.
Black Golem
Cape Cod, Massachusetts - Then
"The Aliens have finally landed! Oh Lord why have you forsaken us!?"
"What are you talking about?" he asked, pushing the old man aside to get a better view from the window.
"Over Boston. They're out there, killing everyone! They say the mothership's headed South to Paragon City! Even the City of Heroes can't repel their attacks! Where are you going? You can't fight them, we have to flee!" the old man said, chasing after his son into their house.
"Yeah Dad, I'm gonna go shoot aliens with the Twelve Bore." he replied sarcastically, grabbing his coat and a set of keys from the kitchen hangar. "I told you this day would come old man, your God has left you here to rot, and now there are Devils in the skies raining down an unholy fire that consumes all in its path."
"Do NOT take the Lord's name in Vain you brat. I raised you better the--"
"You didn't raise sh**, that was Mom's job. Stay here and cling to your tome, it'll deliver you to salvation." he said, grabbing a copy of the Bible and pushing it against his fathers chest. "I'm getting out of this town once and for all."
"What? Where are you going? Don't leave me! You can't leave me!!"
??????????????
46 Days Later
A thin mist hung over the ocean like Death, during the night 'Mary' the tiny fishing trawler seemed encapsulated in its very own bubble. Unable to see more than 50ft in any direction her crew of two had stuck to the chaos of the waves to compensate for their broken navigation system.
A female voice broke the calmness of the Ocean waves as the Sun peeked over the horizon, illuminating everything in its domain. "Luke! Luke! You have to wake up! I can see land! We need to bring the boat ashore!"
"Land!?" shouted Luke from below deck, rushing up the steps with every ounce of energy he had left. "Sarah! We've done it! Hahahaha! God be damned! We found our way home!"
The engines fired up into action, as the Trawler was navigated towards the shore.
The Volcanic sand on the beach glistened in the sunlight, it was the most beautiful sight that Luke had seen since he'd laid eyes on Sarah.
Within a few hours the Mary was anchored off the coast and by the early morning, Luke and Sarah had rowed up to the beach, trailing footprints in the coarse black sand.
"Okay... I'm not sure where in the States has Volcanic sand beaches, but I'm sure there has to be Civilisation somewhere around here... We need to get to a phone... No I need a good meal first." Luke said with a high spirited tone.
Sarah smiled and jogged alongside him, grabbing his hand and gripping it tightly. Luke raised her hand and kissed it. "You're my lucky charm, Girl."
"Well you're my Hero." she replied happily, "Luck is the least I could do to repay you."
A Few Minutes Later
The pair came to a clearing in the woods. The earth was still more or less the Volcanic Sand, with patches of grass amongst the thin trees.
"Luke... is that a sign?"
There, as clear as day, a small yellow sign sat in the middle of the clearing on a cast iron post.
"Haha! Civilisation! Where there are signs there are people! Let's see what it says!" he gripped her hand and pulled her towards the sign, leading her in tow.
As the letters came into focus, the ground faded away, swallowing the couple whole. They landed with a thud and a crash of leaves, wood and dirt. Shocked and dazed, Luke raised his eyes and checked on Sarah.
"Oh my God..." she said. "...what happened!?"
Luke leant back onto his hands and and stared skyward.
"...It's a trap." he breathed as a paralytic embrace pulled him into darkness.
12 Hours Later
"Luke? Luke wake up! Luke! You really have to wake up now." Sarah sounded frightened.
"Sarah... There's no need to fret my dear." came an eloquent British accent from above. "We have been waiting for you and your Hero for a long time..."
"Luke..." she whispered as he groaned into life, waking from a long forced slumber.
"Luke? No that's not his name... not at all. Is it ... Rak'ha!?"
Luke's eyes shot open, he was finally Awake.
It takes Chaos to move the world to Action.
((***Nastiness Ahead***))
Third Degree
Ziggursky Penitentiary Canteen - Now
Julius Byrne walked amongst the tables in the packed canteen. He was half smiling, wondering exactly where to begin. The lawyers words hung in his head as he strode amongst his fellow prisoners. If he stood any chance of being rescued from the prison, he had to find a way to end up in D Wing. D Wing was only for the most dangerous prisoners though and due to his exemplary behaviour since being incarcerated here, it was highly unlikely that hed get thrown in there for anything other than trying to take the Wardens head off. The idea appealed to him but it stunk of failure. There was no way he could engineer a meeting that would enable him to do that, the Warden always kept himself well protected. Hed have to start small and work his way up.
As he passed by the huge mechanised AEDs* that stood watching over the canteen, he spotted the diminutive figure of The Ferret, sat once again at a table with the comedian from last time opposite him. Byrne felt no sympathy for the short guy. If he was so stupid to allow himself to be the victim twice in a row, then there was nothing he could do to help him. It did however, give him an opening.
Being careful to make sure that the guards were distracted, he idly altered his course and came to stand behind where the comedian sat as he liberally helped himself to The Ferrets tray. He was just about to make a grab for another forkful of mashed potato when he became aware of Julius looming over him. In a split second, Byrne grabbed the back of the comedians head and smashed it forcefully into the table. Food and cutlery was sent everywhere to the sound of splintering bone and dental work. He raised his victims head up briefly, allowing the gout of blood from his mouth to spill down his face before smashing his head back down into the table again.
Revocation of privileges thought Byrne as he noticed two of the guards on the overhead gantry turn their weapons on him. Two darts containing tranquilisers sped from the guns, only to collide with the comedian who Byrne had deftly turned into a human shield. Seeing the guards change ammo, he tossed the stunned body at them, knocking them clean off the gantry and into the diners below where they were promptly stamped upon by his fellow inmates.
Two weeks in solitary he estimated as he saw three guards run at him from the corner of his eye. Noticing that their weapons were only half drawn he braced. Sure enough, two of them jumped on him, trying to bring him down. The third wrestled with a pair of manacles, attempting to fix them to his arms. Idiots, thought Byrne, releasing his mental control on his anger. His body erupted in a gout of flame, scorching the guards as they tried to stop him. They fell back screaming as the flames engulfed them. The canteen by now was a riot. Various prisoners, seeing their opportunity, rose up and began assaulting the guards and staff around the room. Others took it as a chance to even the score with other prisoners, leaping across the room to belt each other with makeshift weapons. Alarms were ringing by now, guards rushing into the room, followed by the hovering police drones, waiting to teleport miscreants into cells filled with sedative gas. As Byrne upped his estimate to a month, he saw one of the drones closing on him. Grabbing one of the burning guards, he tossed him casually at the drone. Although the drone was able to fire, teleporting the flaming guard to the awaiting cell, it wasnt before he collided with the expensive machine, sending it skittering to the floor where it was crushed under stampeding feet. He added a furious beating from the guards for that one.
Still, it wasnt enough. He browsed the crowd and only just avoided the massive stun blast that was aimed at him by the AED as it stomped through the room, its concussion cannons laying waste to the rioting prisoners. The force of the guns scattered bodies to the four winds, knocking them senseless as it did so. The drone was only semi-sentient but clearly it was being instructed to target him as the perceived ringleader. Its so nice to be wanted, he thought to himself. Ducking low, he wrenched the dining table from where it was affixed to the floor, tearing it from its support. Bracing it like a Spartan shield, he felt another blast impact with the sheet metal, blowing objects and people aside where it ricocheted off of the table. Byrne was still pushed back a few feet by the impact, but finding his footing, he marched forwards, destined towards the hulking machine.
The machine fired again, repelling him slightly and causing both guards and prisoners to either side of him to go flying due to the waves of force as they spilled off of his makeshift shield. When the blast was over, he charged, leaving charred footprints behind him as the rage took over. The AED fired twice again but there was no stopping Byrne now. Shockwaves from the stun blasts repelled everything around him, the burning man rushing towards his target, yelling his defiance. As he closed, he leapt, casting the table aside as he jumped forcefully into the giant machine. His impact caused the AED to stumble then topple over backwards, Byrne riding the device down. As it crashed into the floor, he began to pound on the machine, tearing massive rents in its armour. Around him, beyond the fury that enveloped him, he was aware of the riot being quelled by an influx of guards. It wouldnt be long now, time to go out on a high.
Gripping the machines false head, he pulled. Plastic and metal protested in ugly screams as slowly it gave way, Byrne ripping the head from the body. The machine went still and Byrne raised the head high over his head like a trophy, roaring his victory to an appreciative crowd. The guards were close now, he could sense them readying their guns, the rest of the canteen quelled and almost under control.
Fight for your freedom! he yelled, pulling some nonsense from a speech hed given years ago. The crowd still roared as the first stun blast hit him. He stumbled slightly, still surprised at how powerful it was. As the second hit him, he feigned losing his footing. The third he allowed himself to go limp, toppling off of the titan to hit the ground with a crash. As a forth struck him for good measure, he relaxed his breathing, allowing his mental controls to slip back into place. The flames around him sputtered then died as he tried to keep a grip on consciousness. He felt the guards haul him upright, one of them laying in a cheeky blow to his face, causing his lip to split. He remained in control though, curious as to why they were not dragging him off to D Wing. It was when he raised his head and saw a suited figure hobbling towards him with an obvious limp. The Wardens discomfort managed to raise a smile on his defiant face, clearly someone else disagreed with his way of running the prison.
I knew I would get to you Byrne, said Warden Trent, smiling. And I said that when you did, I would be there to gloat. You wont be seeing this part of the prison for... ooh... six months at least now. That long in solitary should humble you slightly. Aaah! The smell of victory is so sweet!
Byrne mentally cursed, still not good enough. He stiffened himself, glaring at Trent as he savoured the moment. Warden, answer me a question, he said.
Trent limped over to where Byrne was restrained by several guards. He flashed his winning smile at him. Yes... prisoner?
Tell me, began Byrne, how exactly would you know what victory smells like? With that, he lurched forward, bringing his forehead crashing down onto the bridge of the Wardens nose. Bone and cartilage shattered in an explosion of blood, breaking his nose in several places. Trent staggered backwards, a river of blood pouring from his ruined nose, screaming. The guards began to pound on Byrne, but try as they might, they couldnt get him to stop smiling.
D Wing! was all that could be heard of the Warden from where he gripped his bloody face. The guards complied, hauling Byrnes battered body off towards the secure holding cells. As he was being led out, he felt compelled to savour the moment one last time.
Hey guys! he yelled to the cowed prisoners who had been watching the scene. The Wardens got no nose! How does he smell!?
Terrible! came the cliché reply followed by howls of laughter and cheering as the guards struggled to regain control. And with those sounds of joy ringing in his ears, Byrne finally relinquished control and allowed his mind to slip into the oblivion of unconsciousness.
((*AED = Automated Enforcement Drone))
@Dante EU - Union Roleplayer and Altisis Victim
The Militia: Union RP Supergroup - www.themilitia.org.uk
Tarana
Canteen, Female Block, The Zig - Now
Tarana looked around in the canteen. Then to her food
or whatever it was they dared to call food in the Zig. She just wanted to start her desert when the sounds where heard. Stun blasts, screaming and more
The sound came from the other side of the wall. Where the male part of the canteen had to be.
The women started to get impatient and a lot of talking went on. A few guards came walking past the tables
Ok all
diner is over! All back to youre cells, NOW!!, one screamed. Still wandering what the hell was going on there Tarana grabbed her desert and left the canteen at an easy pace.
The hallways towards the cell showed very few guards. One of them picked up the phone and Tarana saw him rally the others and run towards the canteen in a hurry. That must be some party., she thought to herself. She took a turn to the corridor her cell was wondering for a moment why she hadnt seen her cell-mate yet.
Then she saw a huge blue creature appear in front of her. Rorqual told you she would get you for this
, it said showing a casket-up broken finger. Tarana remembered the aquatic meta from a few weeks before yes. The meta-human really holds a grudge it seems. Then she heard sounds behind her
Two more female inmates with a murderous look showed up blocking her path back. One of them was carrying a self-made knife.
Cornered Tarana felt her rage grew
And instead of trying to run away she did something unexpected. She put down her shoulder and stormed towards Rorqual with full force, ramming her. It was almost like hitting a brick wall but the aquatic meta dropped to her knees gasping for air too at least.
What are you made of [censored]!, Tarana screamed noticing the other two closing in. For a second she looked back. But she would have been better off watching her opponent. Rorqual grabbed her legs and threw Tarana against the wall. She felt the pain over her whole back. youre dead sushy-brain! Dead!
Tarana jumped towards her opponent who hit her again during her attack. But this time the pain only fueled Tarana. She didnt stop but clasped her hands together for a heavy blow to the neck. Rorqual fell forwards with the blow, but Tarana followed up with an uppercut towards the face. Knocking the blue skinned giantess upwards.
One of the girls jumped on Taranas back, desperately trying to choke her. Tarana reacted by running backwards to the wall. The girl screamed in pain when her ribcage broke sandwiched between Tarana and the wall. Bleeding from her nose and mouth she fell forwards, dropped down and stopped moving.
But Rorqual had her breath back. She grabbed a metal bar from the ceiling part. Ripped it right off and ran towards Tarana. Tarana blocked the raised arm with the metal bar using her left, and retaliated with her right
HARD! Knowing the super human strength fish-lady would have Tarana picked up the metal bar and began to assault the head. Hitting and hitting and hitting. Blood splashed up over her shirt and face but she didnt stop.
The last girl obviously regained some of her nerves and walked up to Taranas back, ready to strike
Her knife firmly in her hand
- The Italian Job: The Godfather Returns #1151
Beginner - Encounter a renewed age for the Mook and the Family when Emile Marcone escapes from the Zig!
- Along Came a... Bug!? #528482
Average - A new race of aliens arrives on Earth. And Vanguard has you investigate them!
- The Court of the Blood Countess: The Rise of the Blood Countess #3805
Advanced - Go back in time and witness the birth of a vampire. Follow her to key moments in her life in order to stop her! A story of intrigue, drama and horror! Blood & Violence... not recommend to solo!
Nadja Romanov and Tarana
Female Cellblock, The Zig - Now
Nadja gripped the bars on the side of the corridor as her legs closed like scissors around the girls neck. There was a snap. The knife fell to the floor. Then the girl.
Nadja dropped to the ground; a perfect gymnasts landing. She looked at the knife and then at Tarana. You owe me.
She wasnt sure why she had stepped in above the self-preservation of making sure one of Masons cadre didnt bleed to death on the prison floor before the break out. Perhaps she should have remained where the guards had cuffed her when they were called to deal with the riot on the men's wing; but the almost bestial noises getting closer made the decision for her.
She stepped closer to Tarana, assessing the broken bodies in the giantess wake. This should get you your ticket to D Block. You wouldnt believe what I had to do get mine.
Tarana looked at her and nodded... "Thanks! That was what I was hoping for..."
A cruel smile passed over Nadja's lips. She leaned close and she whispered an account of the events in Warden Trents office to her cellmate.
"You really did... Oh my..." Tarana replied astonished with a big smile on her face. "I can never look at him again without laughing my head off!"
Nadja smiled. "If things go to plan, you won't see him again." She looked down the corridor, still conscious that the riot in the men's block could spillover and cause her problems. "Now, unless there's anyone else you want to kill, Tarana, what say we wait in our cell for things to quiet down?"
"Sounds like a plan... and I can use a clean shirt!" said Tarana while looking at her heavily blood-stained clothes. Some part of her acknowledging the fact that Nadja obviously knew off the planned breakout from D Block too, but she didn't really care at the moment.
@Romanov
Nadja Romanov, Lily Pink, Little Death - The Cadre
Estoque, Bastinado, Spidermonkey, Chic Doyle - The Militia
Miss Teen, Dead Reckoner, Dee Dee Diablo, Kaneko
THEN
The sun sank low over the tree line. The sounds of the day faded gradually, replaced by the chirrups of crickets, the ribbits of toads and frogs and the calls of various nocturnal predators, awoken by the coming of dusk. Wet, sucking sounds permeated the swampland, the signs that larger predators crept through the pervading blackness. A deep gurgling bubbled up through the swamp water, a predator, it seemed had passed below. As the sun finally closed its great yellow eye the night sky burst with sounds, fireflies whirled and danced their way through the mangrove, dodging creepers and vines with an agility no pilot could achieve. And yet, amongst this bounty, this enviable eruption of wet, clinging life, a sense of the alien arrived.
Alfred Leshii ran. He might have been running for his life, were you to view the thundering footfalls of his approach for that of panic. But he wasnt. Not yet. He saw himself as a hero. A warrior that fought for the protection of animals, for the defence of the natural world and fought for, simply, what was in his frenzied mind, the greater good.
The laboratory building sat on an artificial island among the mangroves, surrounded somewhat limply by rivulets of razor wire. Not really sufficient to keep anyone out, this was just as well for Alfreds sake. He deftly pulled his less than impressive five foot three, bear chested frame under the wire and made his way to the maintenance access marked on his map.
The building was empty. The staff having left for the weekend left the buildings simple but autonomous systems to feed its test subjects and maintain the various drug administrations. Alfred forced the doors to the animal cages and began to release the imprisoned creatures one by one, chasing them to the open world outside and to his believed freedom.
Convinced of their escape he went about his other business in the maintenance tunnels, positioning the explosive charges Emmett had prepared for him. Arming them he started to make his way out of the compound, unaware that the charges werent kind enough to give him time enough to escape.
The explosion caught him from behind. The concussive blast shattered his body, the flaming chemicals vaporised his flesh. And the mangrove drank the remains.
-----------------------------------------------------
NOW
Leshii opened his eyes.
The guards watched him from behind the protective glass that separated him from the world outside. The intravenous pack that fed him with a meagre sugar-saline solution also force fed him a specially prepared tranquilliser that restricted his cellular activity and emotional variation.
His grey, membranous eyes blinked once as a WALDO entered his room cutting away fresh roots and shoots and spraying his massive bulk with a weak herbicide.
The guards werent taking chances. Not since his last two attendees had gotten sloppy and had been torn apart by his thorned limbs as a result. D Block had its share of cocky guards, just as much as the other prison wings.
-----------------------------------------------------
THEN
Weeks passed.
Dew ran down the lower vein of the leaf, dripping slower and slower as its source ran dry. The night had been cold, but in the swamps some things colder lay on the moss crusted roots of the mangroves. Something monstrous and rotting believed itself to be a man, standing horribly waist deep in the salty, stinking water. It let out a low moan then lay limp again. In the distance it heard an entirely alien sound, a regular but un-patterned drone like the small creatures it watched fluttering from flower to flower, only this was louder. Curiosity again seized the shapes mind and it rose from its mossy pit and began striding through the ever-darkening swamp, following the direction the noises seemed to come from. It crossed several small streams before it saw a new stream. This new stream however didn't move, it made no sound and remained flat and grey. The shape stood gazing at the grey stream confused that the sounds it had followed had come from this silent immobile strip. It stepped tentatively onto the strip, feeling the surface was more rock like than water.
At that a dark shape with flaring lights pouring from its front came rushing at it. Befuddlement and interest froze the rotting figure in its tracks as it watched the oncoming shape approach faster. At the last minute the shape, clearly a car, swerved and the driver strained to stop it from skidding into what he perceived to be a bear. He almost succeeded.
The left wing of the car, a dark green saloon struck the green rot hard, steel crumpling with the impact. The impact scattered the rotting thing in every direction. A green, stinking stew of plant matter sprayed the road, car and the trees from whence it had come. The driver pulled away limpingly then sped away, his driving now erratic, desperate to flee.
Several hours passed before the rotting, plant thing had reassembled itself in a twisted mockery of the human form. It stood then, gazing along the strip in the direction its attacker had fled in. Grunting loudly it began walking, just out of sight it followed the road, seeing a strange tree by the roadside that had shapes emblazoned on it.
"Paragon City, 60 miles ahead. We welcome weary travellers."
The shape didn't realise the significance and continued walking.
-----------------------------------------------------
NOW, D BLOCK
Mr. Leshii? Sorry, would you prefer, Phytopath?
Alfred looked up.
I have a proposition for you....
The rotting, plant-mulch matter thing that had once been Alfred Leshii grinned a foul, peat stained grin.
Nadja Romanov
Warden Trents Office, The Zig - Now
The guard ushered Nadja into Warden Trents office. He left and closed the door behind him.
Trent was half sitting, half leaning, on his large, expensive desk. His arms were folded as he looked Nadja up and down. Nadja was wearing the top half of her prison oranges tied around her waist. A white vest hugged her Penthouse Pet lines. She had used a little of Officer Gillians make up to improve on near perfection.
The corner of her mouth curled. I requested to talk to you almost a week ago, Warden.
Trent sniffed. Request? he said. I see you when I want to see you. You still havent learnt your place have you, Romanov? You think that name of yours gives you privileges. You dont have squat.
She smiled. You seemed to like what I have last time you had me in your office, Warden. Or maybe your view of me changes when I have your [censored] in my mouth. And if you remember, as part of our arrangement, you promised me a cell of my own. Quid pro quo. But things must have got confused as Ive found myself sharing my cell with a retarded giantess.
She held Trent in her eyes like a cobra. That girl is barely human. She should be locked up with the freaks in D Block. She let the last sentence hang for a second, planting it in the mans unconscious.
Come here, said Trent. He watched as she walked nearer, until her leg was brushing against her knee. You leave running my cellblocks to me, Romanov. You concentrate on what youre good at.
He motioned down with his head and Nadja began to unfasten his belt.
* Deleted Segment *
You deranged [censored], [censored]! hissed Trent as he frantically grabbed tissues from his desk and pressed them to stem the bleeding from his crotch.
Nadja smiled. Spat a mouthful of blood on to Trents pristine carpet. He should consider himself lucky. Shed left him needing a few stitches rather than surgical reattachment.
He slammed his hand down hard on the intercom. Get some guards in here now!
Seconds later two guards burst into the room with batons in their hand. They looked at each other, suppressing smirks, at the site of their bleeding leader.
Take her to solitary, barked Trent.
Solitary? said Nadja with a grin as the guards gripped her upper arms. Youre finally delivering me my own cell. Thank you, Warden.
Trent stood up and staggered towards Nadja. You should learn to shut your mouth, Romanov.
You seemed to get quite angry when I did, she replied.
By the end of today youll be praying to be in solitary. Lock her up with the freaks in D Block.
Nadja smiled to herself. Mission accomplished.
@Romanov
Nadja Romanov, Lily Pink, Little Death - The Cadre
Estoque, Bastinado, Spidermonkey, Chic Doyle - The Militia
Miss Teen, Dead Reckoner, Dee Dee Diablo, Kaneko