Unionverse: Assault on Bloody Bay

OOC: This is a short plot intended for characters in the Union Universe. Doesn't really matter if you're not from the Union server, you can still join in if you want, by adapting your character as a Unionverse version. This forum roleplay will focus on the information gathering aspect of the plot and eventually move on to a planned server event. A plot-orientated mass battle across Bloody Bay, Siren's Call, Warburg and Recluse's Victory. The story begins!

Your cellphone rings. It's the Detective. He has a new mission for you. Seems the Police Department just launched an investigation with the city's heroes. They need to locate a terrorist group communicating through Kings Row and Peregrine Island. Evidence suggests the Skyway trolls and Talos Island freakshow gangs are somehow involved. The detective wants you to hit the streets and 'question' as many gang bangers as it takes. From what was said, these terrorists are planning something major. You better work fast.

"This had better be good, hun." The immortal Patsy Crusher answered her mobile in a slightly apathetic tone. "Aye, alright, I'm listening, but could you kinda make it quick, like? Aye, but I'm kinda in the middle of bouncin' this ugly bugger's head off the footpath and he's starting to squirm a bit."

"NOT LIKE!" The ugly bugger in question scream as it struggled to shake his leg free from the grip of his 127-year-old captor. A 127-year old captor that kept her teenage looks for more than a century and showed no signs of stopping any time soon and was now in the process of dangling the helpless Dyne junkie upside down and bopping his head off the pavement at regular intervals. "NOT LIKE! NOT POGO STICK! NOT POGO STICK!!"

"Aye, that was... does that even matter now, hun?" Patsy continued, holding the Troll just inches from another bopping. "He went after me first, alright? Good. Get to the point or I'm hangin' up. Mmm-hmm. Mmmmm-hmm. Aye. Aw. You want me to... no problem, hun, I can..."

As she continued to talk to her caller, the Troll continued to squirm. Eventually, Patsy's grip let her down, leaving the green gangbanger to drop rather unceremoniously to the ground head-first. However, he was free and still concious, and still had a chance to make a break for it. Which he did.

"Right, hun, I'll let you know if I get owt." Patsy kept her sights fixed on the fleeing Troll. "Oh, and by the way... someone owes me a new mobe. Bye!"

The immortal didn't waste time hanging up. Almost immediately after she finished talking, she ploughed every ounce of power into throwing the phone directly at the back of her former captive's head. Bang on. Patsy watched the phone smash into tiny pieces against the mutated thug's bonce, stopping him dead. Well, not quite dead, but he stopped, and he looked like he was on the verge of passing out. Unfortunately, this was Skyway City, and both the Troll and the highly agressive hero had been on its namesake the whole time. No prizes for guessing where the Troll went next.

"Aw, you flamin'..." Patsy watched in semi-horror as the poor bugger stumbled over the edge and down a drop that would have been certain death for most, if not all mundanes. Rushing over, she then peered over the edge, fearing the worst.

Thankfully, a group of Supa Trolls had broken his fall. Patsy let out a sigh of relief right before noticing a Troll right beside her that had rushed to see where and how her Troll had landed, foolishly ignoring her very presence.

"Dipstick." she muttered as she rolled her eyes at criminal stupidity at its best.

Bringing a fist up to his face in one quick and seriously painful (for him) motion, Patsy then grabbed the Troll by his belt, tossing him over the edge but catching him by the leg just in the nick of time and dangling him upside-down over the previous one's landing spot.

"Alright, hun. I've got a few questions and you're gonna answer them. And if I don't like your answers, you're joinin' your mate down there. Clear?"

Patsy smirked at the pitiful troll's pleading, before hauling him back up to the Skyway. This time she let gravity bring him back down after swinging him around herself horizontally. Before the troll had any chance of getting to his feet - not that she had expected him to try - the immortal pressed her shoe against his chest, pinning him to the ground.

"Alright, you walking snot, start talkin'... Atta wants to change the world, right? Give me owt but the top answer and you'll be danglin' again, remember that."

Patsy pondered for a moment, still pinning her greenskin captive to the ground. Killing all heroes? Not good, that was for sure. Nevertheless, she did say she'd let that detective know, but there was one little snag...

The immortal checked her belt and her pockets for her phone, only to be reminded that she used it as a projectile a few minutes back by a few of its fragments on the road.

"Bugger." she muttered. Right before grabbing the troll by his collar and hauling him to his feet, grinning as sadistically as she smirked earlier. "Alright, hun. Free flight to the PPD station for you! And no soilin' yourself on the way."

With that, Patsy Super-Jumped away to the nearest station, carrying a now screaming troll with her.

Johnny the Skull woke up slowly, groggily, his head muzzier than when he spent all his bank job loot on Dyne and whiskey. There were bright white lights over his head, and when he went to sit up, he realized that he was strapped down. He tried to lunge up, tried to reach out and find the dark powers of the Netherworld, but neither attempt did anything more than bring a pained moan from his lips as his head throbbed worse.

"It is of no use, comrade." Came the gravelly voice, and Johnny felt fear congeal in his belly.

"It's impossible. You're dead." Johnny said, trying to move his head to look around and catch a glimpse of his captor, but something had a hold on his head, and trying to move it just sent pain scything through his thoughts.

"Nyet, comrade, although I believe that soon you will wish I was." The voice answered. "I have questions of you, and you will answer them."

Johnny began screaming as small hooks were attached to his eyelids and drug them open, and sensation began retuning to his body, making him feel as if he was covered in biting, stinging ants. His captor asked him nothing, and Johnny realized that this was worse than a drug fueled nightmare.

"Please, don't hurt me." Johnny pleaded.

"Tsk tsk, young Skull." The voice chided. "Is it not your motto that life is pain? That is what you preach as you victimize the people around you." Droplets, soothing liquid, fell into his eyes. "For a gang that is spread all over the lands of the United States, as well as the Rogue Isles, you seem particularly unhappy."

Johnny tried again to move, and found that even though he could feel the tingling pain, he was unable to tell if his fingers even twitched.

"Please, I'll tell you anything." Johnny tried again.

"I don't want to know anything, little Skull." The voice told him. "I want specifics."

"Please, don't turn me into a monster." Johnny couldn't feel the sweat that he knew had to be covering.

"Is that rumor still about? My dear young man, I do not change people without their consent. To do that is to create a defective tool, that will shatter when I least expect and injure me." The voice moved around his head, and eyedrops were reapplied. "You will answer my questions."

The light was blocked out by the head of the questioner, and when Johnny saw the confirmation of who held him prisoner, the fact that he had lost control of his bladder and bowels in fear held no shame.

The hair was iron gray, cut into a severe military flat top, with a black beret on top. One eye was covered by an eye patch, with heavy scarring around the eye socket, the cheek, and almost to the ear. The iron gray beard was neatly trimmed.

Johnny began screaming as man smiled at him.

"So loud, and the questions have no begun." The supervillain smiled. He leaned back out of the light. "You see, you can deny it if you wish, but my, shall we say, sources, have told me that the police believe there is something going on involving terrorists."

There was the snapping sound of rubber gloves being put on, and Johnny began sobbing, tears rolling from his wired open eyes.

"If the incompetent lackeys of Statesman at the Paragon City Police Department know that this plot is brewing, then someone of your lawless skills must know." The voice mused. A long thin metal probe showed in Johnny's views.

Johnny screamed as the metal came down, the point almost at his eye.

"Tell me, young man, the specifics of the shipping container full of weaponry you were guarding in Peregrine Island." The voice was hard as the steel that made up the probe that was only millimeters from Johnny's eyeball. "Tell me who such heavy military grade weapons were meant for."

"Please."

"Young master, begging is for those who think they might have hope." The gravelly voice chuckled. "You have no hope. Only the promise of pain should you deny me my information."

"Who were the weapons meant for, young master? Rocket launchers, surface to air missiles, armor defeating munitions, land mines. Who would the shipping container belong to?" The voice chuckled. "Tell me about these terrorists..."