[Worm-verse RP] Grand Super Villians IC

[Madwand]

Mini-interlude 1.x (The upbeat tycoon)

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“The city is not going to be condemned.”

Alan Buckley was drumming his fingers on the antique mahogany desk. Two stacks of letters, sorted into read and unread, laid on it. The letters arrived daily from white-shoe law firms, governors’ mansions, the biggest hedge funds, vacation homes with proper names on engraved stationery: “The Manse, Rhode Island” or “Coral House, Bermuda.” and Washington’s offices.

“Mr Roland, I appreciate your concern over my finance. I understand that individuals with your particular skill set demand millions. But don’t presume that I wish to pour money down the drain or waste your talents on desolate ruins. “

His interlocutor acknowledged his mistake with simple nod. Laconic to a fault. He was man that inevitably end up being described as “grizzled war-criminal”, but in reality he was far more. Trump, tactician and terrorist, Roland was barely past thirty, but still managed to survive over ten years of combat in worsts parts of the world, serving desperate Middle-eastern princes, Western power’s deniable black-ops and recently, African warlords.

Alan, retired Wall Streeter, was old, smart, white, pedigreed and never punched a man in his life - almost perfect opposite if you wouldn't count the smart part. His spoke with voice both pleasant and cultured, but he was hiding frustrations. Learned and reflexive pessimism irked him. It was so.. Ingrained in people those days. He couldn’t understand it.

He was born in 1950, his parents Yale educated, his father well-regarded financier, and everything got better for twenty years for his family. Then, after the late sixties, he went to Yale, almost unaffected by parahuman craziness. He got a good job on Wall Street in the seventies, plus small loan of million dollars from his father, then he hit the stock boom in eighties. Nineties, with Endbringer and liberals over-regulating markets - because of Thinker paranoia- were downer, all right, but he was shrewd enough to invest in construction of bunkers and other necessary infrastructure like rebuilding of America’s industrial plants in wake of Leviathan, changing his millions into billions. His story has been one of incredible, unrelenting progress for sixty-one years.

He couldn't understand this new generation, living in world of wonder and opportunity and yet so grim and cynical about everything. There are croakers in every country, always boding its ruin, he remembered quote from Ben Franklin’s autobiography.

“But I suppose you would like to know the context of your job, very well. I recently began acquiring real estate properties and other assets in Brockton Bay. I don’t want it for short-term speculation, even if I may simply sell them after decision to rebuild Brockton Bay goes public.

No, no. You see, I think that our current zeitgeist is wrong on every count. Everyday new, more powerful capes are emerging. There was first third generation trigger event. Sooner or later, Protectorate will defeat the Endbringers. Five, ten or twenty year, it doesn't matter. When Leviathan will fall, the shipping business will come back. Bay will again become center of commerce and prosperous city.

And I will. Own. It. All.

“I get it, sir.” mercenary responded. He didn’t look bored by speech, his eyes alert.. predatory. “I am guessing my role is to make sure that, in the meantime, your shiny vision is not ruined by villains. Sir.”

“Yes, exactly. I want you to put together a team.” said Alan Buckley “to do the things that heroes legally aren't allowed to do. This needs to be a group of capes that have no ties to the Protectorate or the PRT and is capable of cleaning the city by any means necessary.”

“I could organize it, sir. If you are willing to fork money for African capes to discreetly move into USA. I have few old pals who wouldn't mind change of pace and climate.

“I agree.” financier noded “One more thing, mr Roland. I insist on and expect minimal collateral.“

Alan was, after all, making the world better place for all. Few death villains were very small price to pay for it.

ARC 1 - BREAK

Brockton Bay, Wednesday 31.08.2011, 10:37 AM

As the summer came to its end, the Brockton Bay regained surface appearances of first world city. Life went on, people moved back, slums were shrinking with every day and electricity was slowly restored throughout city.

Small convoy moved easily in the morning traffic. Police car, behind it SWAT armored car, prisoner transport and another police car at the rear.

Anna Ryker

The eyes were driving Anna insane. She could feel new one rippling beneath her skin, ready to burst open between shoulder blades.

Four other eyes, two on left hand and arm, one on left side of her head and on one high on right thigh, were less of a problem. Those were uncovered, circular holes cut in fabric of her prison clothes.

But the new one, she couldn’t reach or tell anyone about it. She was handcuffed, gagged and blindfolded. They had sedated her, but it was wearing off quickly.

She was awake and aware of coming violence. She was about to find herself in the eye of the storm.

Exhilarate, Caliber, Miasma, Menagerie, Autarch, Backlight

The convoy reached ambush point. Villains united around Exhilarate were in positions. They had advantages of preparation and parahuman powers.

Everything was going as planned.

Stolen bulldozer drove out from left street with surprising speed. It hit SWAT van, pushing it into side of the building. Even though armoured car was not completely crushed, anyone inside will have hard time getting out.

The driver of prison car showed off his skills and reflexes, stopping car inches before hitting bulldozer blocking the road.

EDIT OOC

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I provided basis of the workable plan, as I was saying, smash and grab - quite literally. You need to decide who was driving the bulldozer[1] and go! go! go!

ETA of first response - 3 to 5 minutes.

[1] yes - crushing SWAT van in style is enough to activate Backlight's power.

[Writtensanity]

Backlight:

"Ladies and gentlemen," I said from inside the cockpit of the bulldozer, "let's get ready to rrrrruuuumble." I rolled the R enough that it sounded like is was a 70's wrestling match and kicked open the door to my left. The iridescent glow hummed around my leg as it broke the lock and let me out. My powers had kicked on half-way through the crash, giving me enough core strength to take the jolt of impact casually.

As I jumped out of the vehicle I grabbed my baseball bat from behind me. The sword was at home, we were playing a smash and grab, not a cut and slice. I tossed it out in front of me and leapt out to grab it out of the air. I defied physics to snatch it at ten feet up and tucked myself into a roll. I spun twice before I clashed my bat against the top of the armoured car. The clang rang inside as I pulled myself to full height.

I was standing on top of the car with my bat in one hand when I shoved my other into my pocket and pulled out the small handgun I was carrying. It wasn't the kind of **** that clibre could make but it looked the part and that was all that mattered. The glow of my power was muted by the afternoon sun as I levelled the weapon toward the tinted window of the prison car.

It was going to try to back away from the situation, but taking care of that wasn't my job. My job was making sure that the front of the convoy stopped. "Look," I said to the man behind the tinted glass, "let her go and we won't have a problem. How about we get what we want and we let All State take care of the construction accident?"

[DukeGod]

Autarch covered his mouth with the half mask made popular by ninja imagery. Together with his helm it basically concealed all of his face. It wasn't really part of the costume but Miasma made it really useful to have around. He might decide to keep it

He summons a spear and moves towards the prison car.

"Someone really should keep an eye on those SWAT"

[GameOfChampions]

As soon as the bulldozer crashes into the armored SWAT car I dart forward and start to run towards the wreck and the van. As I run I start to exude my fog and direct it to the right to cover the road and the cop car that had been in front of the armored SWAT car. I also crouch down as I run while surrounded by a foot or two of fog to hopefully avoid bullets fired at me. As I run I see Backlight jump on top of the van and start to negotiate with them.

I heft the sledgehammer I'd bought only hours before as I run and call out to Backlight "They need to make up their mind now we don't have a lot of time!" As I get to the Van he hefts the hammer in preparation of smashing open the window with, hopefully a couple good swings and also stops to exude fog towards the cop car and street and instead start to push the fog I'm exuding towards the police car behind the van and the cop car behind it.

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I'm having Miasma put fog banks up to sever the cop cars in the front and back from us and to hopefully hamper anyone who shows up

[n0ble]

Calibre surveyed the chaos from the roof of a building that was squarely in the middle. Not too far left or right. Getaway car stationed in parking complex below him. Cops were below too. He hadn't really decided what do about the real law enforcement in the city. Many of them were friends from another lifetime. As much as he'd tried to burn away any empathy that was left there was still more left than he cared to admit. Rubber Bullets. Check

The one normal gun he brought was out and pointed directly at the Swat van. Forty four magnum. Only thing that will retain any bite at this distance while still being accurate enough Misasma's mist was cover the right and he wasn't about to use either of the new guns unless the situation demanded it. He listened, and heard Autarch above the noise. Hunkering down onto one knee, resting the magnum on the top of the roofs concrete rim. His eyes were loosely fixed on the SWAT van while also covering the sky and surrounding area. Typical response time is three-five minutes. Someone will be arriving soon.

Spoiler: Out of Character

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I've italicized Calibre's thoughts.

[Bobbybobby99]

Menagerie was sitting in the driver's seat of a get-away van a few cars away on the side of the road, looking into his laptop. Said laptop showed the view of his macaw's video camera, and that video camera was currently observing the scene, as the macaw itself methodically turned it's head back and forth, back and forth. Horace himself was in full, green bedecked costume, and with a noticeably blank expression.

In the van were his Caucasian Shepherd and Schnauzer, alongside his boa constrictor loosely tangled around his neck. The Shepherd was for protective purposes, the Schnauzer sentimental, and the constrictor for style. His Rottweilers, Pit Bulls, Geese, and single Doberman were accompanying the main group (alongside his macaw). He barely noticed the blood mist, only enough to turn on the windshield wipers.

Almost (but not quite) sighing at the attempt at diplomacy, he almost absently sent the geese to divebomb the prison car window with poop while honking menacingly, if that was even possible. The plant-like Pit Bulls and Rottweilers growled menacingly while approaching the vehicle, while the Doberman started moving to the SWAT car. After letting off their load, the largest Goose landed on the windshield with a surprising amount of force, flapping it's wings like a maniac and honking like it was nineteen-ninty-nine.

Perched on a lamppost and surveying the situation, the macaw pressed it's recorder, blaring "Only the good die young.". Diplomacy was fine and dandy, Menagerie could concede, but intimidation made it far more potent. Superheroes weren't the only ones that could play good cop, bad cop, after all.

[Writtensanity]

"Min, that's just gross," I sneered to the getaway car as the geese started assaulting the car. So much for diplomacy. I hopped off of the roof of the squadcar, floating down and landing like a feather instead of a man. "Miasma, we're fine. They aren't gonna last five minutes," I said as I walked over to the car that had been behind. It had yet to move and Miasma's fog would make sure that it didn't, you didn't wanna drive through the fog that came out of a parahuman.

I started tapping my bat along the hood of the car in behind the geese and rounded my way around to the driver's side. "Open the back door, let her out."

[3SecondCultist]

The eyes are everywhere.

Anna isn't sure how long she can resist the scream perching at the base of her throat. As the medication begins to wear off, the iron-cast pain of her seventh eye as it threatens to open. Her own vision isn't compromised, as she comes to with a blurry start. Guards, fluoresent lights, batons. Still in prison then. But why is everything rumbling?

It takes her nearly a minute to put everything together. The transfer - the Number Man had told her she'd be moved to a special facility. He hadn't said anything when she brought up her mutations, only to 'count herself lucky' it wasn't worse. The guards are giving the red and black pupils with unease, and Anna can't exactly blame them. They're hideous. Ever since the first one emerged yesterday, it's all she can do not to scratch and claw at her own skin until they disappear entirely.

Of course, she know she won't do that. Her power would have informed her if she planned on doing any harm to herself.

The world of blood seeps into the cracks of her skull as Anna's consciousness settles into being. Something is coming, and very soon. It's already begun, in fact. Her power fills in the gaps between her present and the harsh, brutish future of the world. There will be violence on this road: severe injury, and maybe even death. It's still hard to differentiate the degrees. But Anna has the utmost confidence that before too long, she'll be able to make the most of her power.

And then I can finally get what I want.

[sean_hyer]

An old, beat up pickup - as innocuous as they come - slewed sideways to skid to a halt just behind the rear car in the convoy, and another cape climbed steadily out.

It was all Exhilarate could do to keep from rolling his eyes behind the mask. This wasn't a group of superheroes. This was a barely cohesive gang of lunatics with powers. And him, trying to hold it all together.

At least some things were going right. Backlight had been spotless with his arrival, crashing right where he was meant to. Caliber was up high to provide cover. Miasma was blanketing the area in fog. Autarch and Backlight, with support from Menagerie's animals, were intimidating the guards of the van. And now, with my arrival, that van was trapped between a wrecked SWAT van, a bulldozer, and another truck.

And then, there were the things that hadn't been in the plan. Like the 70s music rolling across the block, the fact that the prison van's windows had acquired a spattering of bird crap, or the spastic goose honking madly and trying to swim through its front windscreen. Truly terrifying.

Well, so long as they didn't end up slapped with a label like 'the Rabid Geese', he guessed he could live with that. Pulling a loudspeaker from the seat of the van, he turned to address the convoy. It was one of those gimmicky ones that distorted voices coming through it. Probably more 'corny' than effective as an intimidation tactic, but every little helps.

"Police convoy! You are surrounded! We do not - I repeat, do not - want to hurt you. Release the prisoner and this can end peacefully!"

[Madwand]

Caliber

Ex-cop chose perfect vantage point. He saw crash and rest of convoy reacting, the police car following prison-transport swayed wildly to the right, almost hitting hydrant. The leading car spun almost 180 degrees with audible tires’ screech and stopped. Both turned on sirens,

The skies and roofs around him were clear. Miasma’s fog was filling the street below, forming two red walls as it expanded toward cop’s vehicles. Caliber focused on SWAT van’s roof hatch, making sure that boys in black don’t try something funny that way.

No surprises here.

James “Bloody” Ax

James needed a drink. It was not like he was alcoholic, he just needed it stand his f*cked up life.

He had rough five years behind, starting for his discharge from active duty, after few accidents in Africa.. not his fault really. Peacekeeping is messy job. Joining the force, but series of allegations about brutality toward suspects put him here, in the dullest assignments brass could think of.

Prison convoy. F*ck it. Why couldn’t he get a job he liked?

That’s why he was almost happy when his convoy was attacked by freaks. Capes.
He yanked hand brake, almost flipping the car and burning the rubber. He waited as fog engulfed the street, taking all information in, observing.

Planning his move.

Backlight, Menagerie, Autarch, Miasma, Caliber

Backlight power kicked in. He effortlessly defied physics as he jumped and twisted in air.

Prison car’ driver proved second time that his reflexes were damn good. He had hands in air before villain pointed gun at him, never mention the speech. Cop in passenger seat was slower on the uptake, but he too decided that going against glowing cape may be his last mistake in life and raised his hands.

Bless the common sense.

Autarch approached few steps before mass of fog, lance in hand.

Miasma had to admit that movement involving crunching down and carrying hefty sledgehammer could be called many names, but “running” wasn’t one of them. Other came to a mind, like “awkward hopping”, but regardless of what jokes Backlight was going to make, it provided more than enough time to engulf both police cars in blood fog. Miasma forced the fog out of the general area of prison car, so when he approached it looked like two gigantic arcs, archangel of slaughter’ bloody wings, sprouted out from his back.

Driver twitched when monstrous geese dive-bombed windshield, shoot glance toward approaching villains, monstrosities encircling car, blood fog and cracks that plant-bird left on glass. He hesitated..

Exhilarate swiftly regained control of situation, as his distorted voice boomed from speakers, carried by Miasma’ fog, over police sirens.


"Police convoy! You are surrounded! We do not - I repeat, do not - want to hurt you. Release the prisoner and this can end peacefully!"

Driver slowly reached and opened the doors as Backlight commanded, somehow calmed by announcement.

“Yy, I’ll just tell the guys in back, so they don’t do anything stupid”. He again slowly moved, opened small window between the cargo area and the driver's cabin.

“Eric, Marty, listen up. Capes are knocking and politely asking for the parcel. You know the drill, don’t play heroes, they don’t pay us enough for that ****.” He turned toward Backlight “We’re cool man, right?”

It paid off to be diplomatic, after all.

James “Bloody” Ax

He could literally smell and taste the blood. Bloody fog, how f*cked it was?

For a moment, James entertained the thought of emptying full magazine in the back of glowing cape. Standing on roof in the middle of armed convoy like that..

But, no, fu*ker could probably dodge all bullets with his bull***** moves. Roland wouldn’t approve. There were things you just don’t do when hunting parahumans.

Ax really wished that he brought grenades.

“Control, we are under parahumans’ attack, I repeat under parahuman’ attack, send backup..” his partner reported, drilled instincts taking over. The boys from other car are probably doing the same. Procedures.**** the procedures.

Ex-SEAL run for it, through blood-hot fog, taking gamble that it was not some-kind skin-eating acid. It wasn’t. The punks treat it too casually to be lethal. He didn’t see more than two steps ahead, but he couldn't miss the crushed SWAT van.

Ax crawled under armored car, squeezing, using bulldozer blade as cover, he reached planned point. He quickly counted two, three pair of legs, one that belonged to blood-fog and other that glowed. There were monsters too, but he ignored them. Third one was master, probably, so kill him and they won’t be problem.

Cocksure mother****er, three, four capes and good half-dozen dog monsters and they don’t even bother to put guard on police cars. Let’s see how they will do without legs. James grinned to that thought and aimed his Glock 37.

Exhilarate and Menagerie

Fog drifted, forming red wall, cutting Exhilarate and Menagerie direct line of sight. The shaking view from lamppost provided by camera carried by macaw was only thing that kept him informed. Situation looked good so far.

Anna

“Eric, Marty, listen up. Capes are knocking and politely asking for the parcel. You know the drill, don’t play heroes, they don’t pay us enough for that ****.” Anna barely heard the voice from outside.

If only the eyes were not distracting her and she could feel the full mosaic of coming futures!

New eye bursted open, it’s blind red-black gaze...

Backlight, Menagerie, Autarch, Miasma, Calibre

Backlight’s power almost saved him, bullet carved white-hot line of pain on sole of his feet, but other one missed completely as he jumped.

Third shattered Miasma’s left ankle, fourth went right through his right feet. He screamed only once, before passing from shock as his head meet the hard road. Nimbus of blood covered him, not all of it fog.

Autarch reacted, but too slow. Only his lance saved him from toppling over when his calf’ muscle was almost torn clean of bone by .45 caliber cartridge.

Caliber, Menagerie and Backlight could not even see from where the shooter fired, but the chaos of next second was painfully clear.

The prison car driver decide to use his reflexes and was about to drive back, clearly choosing uncertain fog over being in the middle of gun-and-capes fights.

Caliber noticed first - the SWAT team reacted too. Shotgun, probably, blow out deformed lock on the back doors. Few good kicks and six to ten more people will join the fray.

OOC/TL;DR

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[To sum up - Miasma is out of action, lost both feet and is profoundly bleeding plus unconscious. Something needs to be done or you’ll have first fatality.

Autarch barely can hold himself on his feets, using lance as a crouch and probably will bleed to death too if no medical attention is given to him.

Caliber, Exhilarate and Menagerie don’t know from where the bullets were fired.

Backlight is lightly wounded, his power and awesome entry saved him from being first fatality and he can move almost as fast as without injury. However, he probably wouldn’t want to enter the surrounding blood-sapping fog.

He also have few second to stop the sympathetic and fast driver, because he is only one that can reach van [/I]or he can get the crazed ex-military cop with drinking problem, PTSD and history of war crimes in Africa before he enters fog back again. Choices, choices.

EDIT: Exhilarate can take car of prison van. Going after crazy cop would require to squeeze in the space below truck, which eliminate most of Backlight mobility, but.. you could think cool stunt/risk it to get to that crazy cop. It's your decision what to do.

SWAT team is less than minute from joining the fun. Yes, they do have grenades.

[Bobbybobby99]

Menagerie's eye twitched.

That was his equivalent of being very, very angry. He wasn't exactly the emotional type, but he occasionally made exceptions when his long-term investments were being comprimised. He had used far too much effort getting into this group to have it all dashed away in a moment of their carelessness.

He focused in on his laptop, since he no longer had the slightest visibility from the wind-shield. The macaw continued the steady, methodical head turning, but he focused on one thing; the location of the injuries. There were advantages to being unemotional, and one was the capacity to think things through. Why target the legs and feet? If they were hoping for non-lethal, they would of targeted someplace with fewer arteries; was it availability?

If it was availability, then the main options were either that they were crouched somewhere in the mist and wanted to be sure of their aim, or they were underneath the truck. He didn't have the faintest clue which, but he had to do something before his assets were permanently depreciated.

After drawing the doberman away from the SWAT car, he directed it to gently grip Miasma's shoulder in his teeth, quickly dragging him into his own mist. He was one of the biggest assets on the team, and he was also the most injured. In the effort to have him being dragged into the mist actually matter, he positioned all five dogs not currently defending him to the side of the car, and proceeded to have them push, as hard as possible, all at once, repeating to a rhythm as needed. They were big, strong dogs in the first place, and twice as strong as normal, not to mention acting as a unit and unconcerned with fatigue. If it didn't tip the darn thing over, it would certainly rock it a very fair deal.

To complete the general idea, he had the geese, all three of them, slam into the wind-shield, at exactly the same time, with all their force, and then repeat the action as needed, honking like they had some sort of bird rabies. If they got in, they would be blindly groping for the drivers eyes and anything they could grab onto (including hair, ears, and likewise), and then be doing their very best to drag him out into the mist, bleeding out.

This all happened almost simultaneously, as the macaw continued to methodically scan the scene (switching the song to Shake your booty), and Menagerie almost cared.

[n0ble]

HIs eyes narrowed as he saw Miasma go down. Heard the gunshots. Not standard police fire. Glock? Possibly. John quickly grabbed the radio he had planted next to him. Exhilarate had the other one. He ducked down, speaking as quietly as he could "Be advised, more hostiles exiting the van. At least one is armed with a shotgun but it'd be safe to assume they all are. Miasma is down. Autarch is hurt. Possibly immobile. Whatever did it was using bullets that are not standard issue for police. I'll cover you. There is also a possible third party at play. Will radio when I know more." He immediately holstered his Magnum, exchanging it for pistol he'd just finished two days ago. It was grey in colour, the light that emanated from it was a dark purple. Patterned on Exhilarate's healing, the gun would over heal someone to a crippling degree, even if they weren't injured. Shoot a man in the leg and suddenly he'd have five extra tibias all growing out at odd angles. It was a good thing this one was chambered for forty four millimetres as well. It'd have to be to get through their SWAT-grade kevlar. Better than using rubber bullets.

Calibre assumed the same position as he had before.

As the men exited the vehicle, John picked his shots carefully, aiming for their joints and centre mass. Not out a sense of concern. Concern had left when they seemed to be more mercenaries than police. Police wouldn't blow the door to a vehicle open like that. No. It was out of a sense of pragmatism. Kevlar was usually stretched thinnest around joints.

This wasn't a movie. No fancy head shots. Disrupt their coherency. Scatter them. Pick them off one by one after that. Numbers were the only thing that had over this group. Numbers and a sense of unity. Both would change shortly.

[sean_hyer]

"Do you know what the definition of a hero is? Someone who gets other people killed." - Serenity

One disadvantage of Miasma's mist is that it hampers our team's vision as well as it does whoever we happen to be fighting. So faced with the blood-red wall of fog, I could only hope things were going well. It was a simple plan. Fear, intimidation, offer a way out.

The first indication I had that things were not going to plan were the gunshots, followed by a pained cry. Gunshots meant that someone had decided to fight, rather than doing the smart thing. And just that - that one brave, 'heroic' person - had just signed a whole handful of death warrants.

So. Main objective. The prison van. Odds are, they try to run. Bulldozer in front of them means that they want to get out by reversing. That means they end up coming here, to me. So by that logic, I ought to just stand here and wait. On the other hand, now that fighting had started it wasn't going to stop. Which meant that the three parahumans in the thick of things were presently going to wind up in a fight with a dozen-odd trained police officers (the SWAT team was probably a little the worse for wear from being hit by a bulldozer, but not likely out of the fight).

I made a split second decision. In the end, I had to trust them to handle themselves. It would be a tough fight, but they ought to pull through. I would wait here for the van. And then a voice from the radio at my belt reshuffled my priorities. Autarch and Miasma were down already, shot by an unknown third party. They needed me.

Whirling, I ran into the mist. Directly in front of me was the rear police car of the convoy; the two officers that had been in it crouched by their doors aiming their guns into the fog. As I approached, one of them saw me and shouted a warning, and they both spun and opened fire. And yes, I am bulletproof. But... I don't know if you've ever played paintball? A paintball gun firing at you at point blank range won't break the skin, or do any real damage. It will still hurt.

Still, it was a familiar pain. So I just stood there and took it, rocked back slightly by the bullets, until the firing stopped. Pasting a familiar fake smile on my face, and rolling my head on my shoulders, I started moving forwards again - slower now, to give them time to run. I could see the fear in them. Fear of me was in their eyes, just as it had been in the eyes of countless looters in a similar situation. Confronted by a foe you couldn't hurt, one that was implacably advancing.

But these weren't petty thieves out for a quick buck. These were cops in the line of duty. They wouldn't split to save their own skins. So as I walked closer, I started speaking. "Brave of you. But futile. I don't want to kill you. I just want what I came for. Now get out of my way."

This was the tipping point. They could see weakness in that sentence, could stand and fight despite the uselessness. I kept the smile on my face, even as my thoughts spun a wild prayer. Please please please run. I do NOT want to start my career as a cape by killing cops.

[Writtensanity]

There was time to be fancy, and then there was the present. Miasma was out, Autarch was possibly donw, things had gone from unorganized to a disaster as soon as we'd started this mission.

I'd pulled out of the way of the first shot and got my foot just out of the line of fire, but the send shot proved too much for me. I didn't quite predict where it would end up and it skinned through the heel of my boot, skinning along my heel as I leapt into the air. It burned into my skin and taught me an important lesson, I needed to be careful with bullets.

Exhilerate seemed like he had the actal aquisition under control so I got to switch my attention to the unknown that had shot Miasma. I liked that kid and I didn't want people handing out bullets without me dishing out punishment in return.

I checked the go-pro that I was wearing during the fight before I leapt over the fog that miasma had spread across the battlefield and landed as close to the third party as I could. I pulled the bat back and lined it up with the man's head. "BATTER UP!" I screamed as I swung forward.

[DukeGod]

Autarch curses in his mind as it becomes all but impossible to stand. He had never really been shot, his time fighting was as a non-combatant and as such very rarely did the bullets go in his direction

Still, it'd be foolish to think him disarmed

"TO ME!" he yells in command voice, taking cover behind the car. His minions come to him proptly, missing their left arms. It left them with only one to really do anything, but also made them (relatively) more useful than the one-legged ones. They all carried cheap knives and guns. Whatever weapons they had when he found them. He'd have to find one of those weapons dealers that sold stuff to african warlords with child soldiers one of these days and take away the man's stock...

He points at them and them towards the shooting direction

Go that way. Injure anyone dressed in a cop or SWAT outfit."

He then turns towards the last one

"Enter the mist, slice yourself as many times as you can. Try not to die"

[Madwand]

Backlight

Backlight jumped over crashed cars, into the red-blood mist. He planted one foot on crawler’s blade, spun in air, one hand briefly landing on SWAT van’s mask and in fluid motion like soccer’ sliding tackle - only on the asphalt - found himself facing dumbfounded shooter under armored car.

Villain twisted and jabbed baseball bat straight into the cop’s face. The loud crack and flying teeth signaled that he won’t make any more problems.

Autarch, Menagerie, Caliber

Menagerie dogs coordinated together like fingers that made a fist. Horace launched them in the side of prison van, but car was already moving, escaping into the fog. The three geese, still on windshields, moved with it outside camera view.

Doberman quickly took Miasma into his fog.

Autarch commanded his one-armed minions. They moved toward the SWAT van, just in time to create living shield. Armored doors swung open and split second later machine-guns fire swept everything facing back of the armored truck.

It was a massacre. Autarch was left with only one minion on the battlefield. Said minions was in fog, harming himself to heal Miasma. The dogs-monsters lined also were in the firing arc, half of them death or wounded.

Caliber

Caliber waited. He knew that SWAT team planned to clean the way, then follow with quick move into positions to get better angles, use their numbers and concentrated firepower to kill all of his team-mates.

He also knew that they didn’t know that he was there. On his side was element of surprise and better position. Normally, it would be counterbalanced by SWAT armor and superior firepower, but Caliber had prepared something special.

He shot first officer as they tried to get out. He could see hundreds of bone needles tearing out of leg as the bullet hit above the knee. SWAT team showed the courage and loyalty - next two out of van dragged their fallen colleague back inside the car.

It seemed that Caliber’s terror weapon passed the field-test. It bought enough time for a team to finish the job.

Exhilarate


He may only create the illusion of invincibility, but he was good at it, practiced it every time when he defended his territory. Cops exchanged one glance and broke into run.

Sometimes prayers were answered. Even those made by villains.


Prison car crashed into abandoned police car in front of him. He barely could see in fog, but the sound of opening doors was unmistakable. The driver decided to run. Few steps forward and he could see why - Menagerie birds finally crashed through armored glass.

Miasma

The pain in Miasma legs only seemed to be getting worse. The train of thought started again. Blood surrounded him. His skin growing back, the bone re-forming, muscles knitting themselves. It was excruciatingly slow, but he healed. Someone was bleeding inside the fog, few steps away from him. The Menagerie’ monstrous doberman held him by the shoulder.

Anna

She could feel short break in violence. Two minutes. Then she could feel the fastest heroes of Brockton Bay swooping out of the sky and engaging in the fight, lasers and force-fields against her rescuers diminished ranks.

[Bobbybobby99]

One Pit Bull dead, one Rottweiler with a useless lower right leg, another Rottweiler with a knife-like streak on it's back. The dead Pit Bull had become such on a permanent basis, but the Rottweilers could (and hopefully would) recover. Using their not inconsiderable might, he had the mostly able bodied two aid the lesser two; the Pit Bull dragged it's dead compatriot in his general direction, while the Rottweilers supported each other in hobbling to his direction. Given the very sharp crack of bone he had just heard, he could be fairly confident that the assailant had been disarmed, and the SWAT team seemed otherwise occupied.

That made his dogs unneeded for the moment, and in danger of further degradation to their numbers; thus, they would simply wait until needed in an area where they weren't open to potshots. He would have to replace the dead one, but he wouldn't be replacing any more (though he was likely to 'stock up' anyways). So, relying on his vague sense of positioning for the abominations, he opened his door and had them pull themselves inside. That included the dead one; he already knew what a tinker could do with one of his 'pets', and he wasn't taking any chances.

Giving the slightest of frowns and glancing at his guard dogs, he apathetically, yet negatively, knew that he would likely have to send them out, leaving himself mostly defenseless aside from his snake. That was part of the advantage of concealment, of course, but it still left him rather worried. Speaking of worries, he noted both that he would have to clean the van out again, or rather requisition one of Autarch's men to do so, and that time was passing. The particular passing of time in the song "Shake your booty" and the clock... they would have to be quick, unless they wanted to face certain heroic factions.

Horace was not a fan of the superheroic community, for very practical reasons; namely, they didn't pay as well as crime, and they had a noted habit of interfering with said crime. They had a very good response time, unfortunately, which meant that they really ought to respond to said responce time by getting out of the frying pan. With his geese blindly groping and not meeting any resistance, he was reasonably certain the driver was no longer driving, so he 'recalled' them as well, using his directional sense, and having them land on top of the van in case they needed to respond quickly.

The macaw... he left it precisely where it was, surveying given that he had absolutely no desire to have blood all over the high-end yet fairly cheap video camera. He already had haemoglobin making a mess of his upholstery just from opening the door. It was also, currently, the only way he could see, and thus respond. While it may be unhealthy for the injured dogs to face combat, he had four perfectly healthy ones, and it was a simplicity to 'release the hounds'. He also kept the Doberman guarding Miasma, just in case.

The one change he did make was to have the macaw click the recorder once more, with the "Bohemian rhapsody" playing. Perhaps that would annoy the people who had killed his biggest pit bull, the inconsiderates.

[Writtensanity]

*CRUNCH* at least that was as far as my sound effects went. White teeth mixed with blood as the man reeled back from a baseball at to the face. I pulled my bat ut from the bottom of the car and flicked the blood off of it and spun the bat around in my hand to spray the blood around.

Gunshots rang out across the battlefield and two voices I didn't know screamed. Then dogs yelped and there was silence. The squat team was in on the fight. Calibre shot from the rooftops and the strangest bone-related sound I've even heard followed the gunshot. That must have been his new gun, yikes.

Above me, the music changed. "Now this is more like it!" I yelled as the guitars started, "this is a soundtrack!" Without a ton of options I turned to look to the front of the Prison car. The driver had abandoned it which meant one thing... I wanted a new ride.

I sprinted across the battlefield and jumped into the open door. After brushing some glass off of the seat I slipped into it and looked over the dashboard. I could just drive away with a new swatteam and the cape we were bringing with us in tow, but I thought our team was getting a little big already.

I banged against the partition without opening it, "So unless you guys wanna go for a ride, I'd recommend dropping the guns and getting out of the car. If you hold up your hands we don't need to brutally mutate anyone."

[n0ble]

As the officer went down, John placed two more shots at the centre masses of the two men who tried to rescue him. Might as well fully cripple the team. Regardless of the success he saw Backlight drift into the prison van. He couldn't hear what was going on but hoped that the cape wasn't going to steal the van. Stuff like that was the exact opposite of nondescript. Almost as bad as the music that was blaring from the parrot. Wouldn't make for a clean getaway.

Shame that no capes showed up, he would've loved to have used the bronze gun on them. Or the grey one. Besides he really needed to field-test the new instruments he'd been developing...

The thought of a getaway snapped across his brain again. With the SWAT team down and the van more or less secured, he left through the door he'd propped open on top of the building. Down the top floor of the parking garage, checking to see that everything was under control, he radioed Exhilarate. "Prison van looks more or less secure. In route to getaway vehicle. Will have it ready on the right side of the road. It's a white van. Expecting you, Autarch, Miasma, Backlight and the precog. Radio if you need more fire support or backup. SWAT team shouldn't pose a problem anymore."

He kept the mask on as he entered into the van and drove it into the freeway. No point in revealing his face to anyone. Especially not this group. He kept the grey pistol unholstered, in the seat next him. Could be useful if they needed to induce panic to get away. Almost lazily, he drove the van out of the parking complex and into the road.

[GameOfChampions]

I moan groggily as I come into consciousness and then bite my lip to stop myself from screaming as the pain of my healing limbs hits me. I look around confused, the last thing I remember was getting shot and then smashing my head against the ground as I fell. 'Someone must have dragged me in here... but why am I healing?' I look around and notice Menagerie's mutant dog and the man, that must have been under Autarch's control, slicing himself not to far away. 'Damn they must have saved me, didn't expect that...'

I pull myself into a sitting position in the fog and take a look at my foot that had the hole through it though it was starting to heal, I test it but have to stifle a cry as it collapses under me. Instead I crawl to the edge of the fog and look out to see what had happened since I passed out. I see the man who'd shot me slumped down under the crash site and hear the crash of the SWAT transport truck against something. I glimpse Backlight jumping over the fog bank but ignore that for the moment.

I start to emanate my fog and direct it towards the bulldozer crash site and the unconscious shooter under it, hoping that there are some bleeding people in the wreck as well. After I start to do that I pull out BB gun and wait for the fog to cover the shooter so I can sense him and peg him with a couple shots to make him start to bleed a little more then he already is. As this starts to happen I sit up and call out to the dog and man behind me in the fog. "You should both go back to your masters now. Keep them safe for me, I can't thank them if they die."

Spoiler

Show

I'm just honestly waiting until I'm healed enough to hobble away to the getaway van.

[DukeGod]

"I'm gonna need some help moving around. Leg's bleeding, don't wanna put my weight on it"

[Bobbybobby99]

Seeing that Miasma was fairly healed up by his words (no thanks to that driver, selfish fellow that he was), and having the camera pick up the touching, but ridiculously sentimental thought, Menagerie siezed the Doberman's reins. He directed the dog to Autarch's side, as a support for the injured fellow. Discussions about a healing gun with Calibre would have to ensue, given the disastrous shooting. Very deliberately, he then had the dog monster crouch down, delicately maneuvering in between the injured mans' legs and rising again as an impromptu mount, assuming no resistance. It gripped his hand with it's teeth, positioned so his injured leg wouldn't drag across the ground, and then rapidly galloped to the van, through the blood. Relying on his direction sense, he once again quickly opened the door and had the 'pet' and the mounted teammate alike swiftly step inside.

Ever so slightly frowning once more at the blood stains (he would have to find a dedicated fabric cleaner), his face once again posed in an apathetic expression, before shutting the door, hard. The blood fog would be weakening to the fellow, but they would have to get out of dodge rather quickly. After the Doberman dropped the man off in the back corner, he took command of the macaw, having it carefully shut the camera lense and then quickly fly over. The geese then also arrayed by the door, before he opened it as rapidly as possible to let both them and the macaw inside.

Closing his laptop and putting it to the side, he turned on his wind-shield wipers to maximum power, and waited for everyone else to finish up. It was high-time to get out of dodge.

[sean_hyer]

Through the mist, I could just make out an acrobatic figure vaulting in through the door of the prison van moments after the driver abandoned it. Backlight, almost certainly. I started to run towards it. From the radio, everyone was fine (more or less), and I was the last one they were waiting on. Hitching a ride seemed like a fine plan, even if I did just end up clinging to the bumper.

As it turned out, I didn't have to. As I neared the van, the rear doors unlatched and swung open. I froze in place for a second, and then a pair of scared looking cops jumped out. I might not have approved of his methodology, but right now I was just grateful it had worked. Thank you, Backlight.

Resuming my advance towards the vehicle, I walked up to the two cops, who had frozen at the sight of me. Inside the van sat our target, hands cuffed to the bench she sat on. Returning my gaze to the pair in front of me, I said in my most serious voice, pointing at the prisoner: "Keys." Then I jerked my thumb to the side in a clear gesture. "Then run."

Moments later, a set of handcuff keys lay in my outstretched palm, and the pair was vanishing into the mist. Using the hood of the police car as a makeshift step, I quickly hauled myself into the rear of the van and swung the doors shut behind me. Banging on the partition between me and the driver, I hollered "It's Exhilarate. Get this crate moving!"

As the van started to roll, I dropped myself easily down onto the bench next to our target, smiling kindly and working the keys into the locks of her cuffs. "Name's Exhilarate. We're the rescue Cauldron promised."

[3SecondCultist]

"In less than two minutes, there will be nobody to rescue me." Anna's voice is smaller than she anticipated it would be. She's barely spoken in over six years, so her words are hard and scratchy as they emerge from her throat. The man standing in front of her will be the first to die - an accident, as the girl with the energy blasts hits a little too hard. Another follows. The rest are merely badly wounded in a futile escape attempt. This is all so wrong. She's about to trade the frying pan for the fire.

Her eyes meet those of the cape wearing the half-face sun mask. He's Cauldron, apparently. The Number Man told her that was the name of the organization he worked for, although he hadn't answered any of her other questions on the matter. This one doesn't appear to be bothered by the plethora of eyes on her body, which means he's either unfazed by the paranormal, or he's already been warned on the specifics of her powers. That's more than I know, anyways. Anna realizes that either way, she needs to trust him. This whole situation is going to get a lot worse, and very soon.

"You need to drive. Right now. They're coming for all of us..."

[n0ble]

As soon as he heard Exhilarate bellow to get moving, John began driving. Idiots. Each vehicle, especially the prison van is probably bugged. "This is Calibre. I'm leaving. Miasma will need recovery. You are closer to his position.Trash the prison van if thats the one your taking. Probably bugged. Reconvene in your territory. I'll contact you." He wasn't about to go and risk his life for someone he barely knew. Let alone a cape. Besides, there was so much more he needed to do. Too much business left to attend to.

As he finished his statement, John turned the radio down to a low volume before driving the truck away from the road. He maintained a fast, yet even pace, like someone in a hurry who was being mindful of the speed limit. As he got farther away from the convoy, he took an exit off the main road into a side street before stopping and getting into the back of the windowless van. He peeled off his holster, jacket, khakis, guns and radio, depositing them all in a Good Life fitness bag. He wrapped the guns in the pants and jacket so they would press against the bag. The radio was turned off. He exchanged his uniform for a grey hoodie, blue wool toque, and sweatpants. The one remaining piece of his uniform was the black crew neck t-shirt underneath the hoodie. And a six inch long knife in his belt, covered by the hoodie.

He left the van. Too easy a target and too similar to the one Menagerie was using. He didn't want to risk someone being on the lookout for the van on the off chance that they spotted Menagerie's. The chances were low, but it was a chance that John didn't want to take, despite the creeps capabilities when it came to remaining unseen. He locked the van from the inside, exiting it and leaving the keys in the glove compartment as he left. John began the long trek back to Exhilarates territory on foot, confident that no one was looking for a man in sweatpants and a hoodie. The weight of the Good Life bag felt nice on his shoulder.

[Bobbybobby99]

Horace had been waiting, on the off chance that another asset would need assistance, but upon hearing the radio (only now paying much attention), he rapidly disembarked (particularly since it sounded so frantic). A high speed swerve, and then a high speed but not too high speed movement out of there. He continued at this pace for perhaps a minute, before swiftly entering some of the residential districts, in an effort to confuse. Left, Right, Left, Left, Forward, Right.

One hidden aspect of Miasma's power was that it changed the van color to red by the staining of the blood, at least to a cursory glance, contrary to it's normal paleness. Right, Left. Just slow enough that coppers wouldn't think to themselves that they needed to pull him over, not that there were many cops watching. At the two minute mark, he was a very confusing ways away; if someone was tracking that they undoubtably had a very solid headache.

Assuming he wasn't intercepted, he then proceeded to go on a deeply bendy path to Exhilerate's territory, in order to reconvene. Left, Right, Sideways, U-turn, Right, Left, Right, Right...

[Writtensanity]

"Oh cool, it's you! Hey girl in the back of the car, welcome to the team. I'm Backlight and I'm stealing prison van!" I drumme the dash for a second before checking that everything was good and ready to go. "Thank god you are an automatic," I said under my breath as I pressed down the pedal. We started to go forward and then I caught a form in the rear view mirror, nobody had grabbed Miasma. What a bunch of allies.

I pulled up to the literally bloody idiot and slammed the partition before opening it. "Grab Miasm- holy **** you have a lot of eyes young lady," I said as I caught the blood red eyes blinking all over the woman. Jesus murphy she needed a lot of sunglasses, or multiple paper bags. It didn't matter, I was used to seeing the weird capes on the internet. I shut the partition and waited for Exhilerate's knocked to tell me that we'd grabbed Miasma.

"Everybody loves a car chase!" I shouted as I squealed the tires before taking off down the street. Thank god most people had cleared out once they heard gunshots. I hit a steady pace and opened the parition again, "Please hold onto the handrails, and where the hell should we drop this thing off? Until the dust settles it makes us a pretty obvious target for capes."

[DukeGod]

"Just stop somewhere you can change into the getaway car. Better if we can also find someone who I can order to drive it the prison one around

You need to learn how to drive a manual car. Barbarian yankees..."

Autarch looks around the car for a first aid kit. He was pretty sure Menagerie would keep one around. Oh, nice, there was one in the glove deparment. Fishing out bandages and the like, Octavian sees what he can do to stop the bleeding

[GameOfChampions]

I watch warily as the prison van pulled up beside me, unsure what was going on until Exhilarate hopped out of the back to drag me into the back of the van with him, and the lady I assumed we were breaking out, or kidnapping. "Thanks guys. I hope you were worth it lady, my feet hurt like a bitch now!"

Ignoring her for a moment I look around the van and start thinking out loud. "I need to get patched up fast or I'll someone to pretty much carry me while we escape. Unless there are some crutches here i need to regenerate the holes in my feet."

I raise my voice to yell to Backlight. "HEY BACKLIGHT YOU UP FOR CARRYING ME? I'LL BE YOUR NUMBER 1 FAN." I turn back to the others "Assuming she-" I gesture at the women in the back with us, "-doesn't have any healing powers at least."

[3SecondCultist]

Anna simply states at the other figure - Blacklight - as he curses, diverting her attention from Exhilarate. And there's... Miasma. Strange names for capes. Then again, in the days before NYSP, she'd only heard of big-leaguers. The Protectorate. The Triumvirate. And the international capes, of course. She knew that there would be more, but there had to be a lot of them for those poor men to take such drastic monikers.

"No healing, sorry." The pain threatens to tear her apart from the inside. "I've been... seeing things. There is a team of superheroes. They come here. You die." Even as she speaks the words aloud, Anna realizes they're no longer true. The violence she predicted has not come to pass.

I... I did that, didn't I? Something deep in her, an instinct or an impulse, seems to chime in agreement, and all seven of her eyes suddenly twitch in unison. She chuckles under her breath, as all of the implications begin to wash over the cracks in her mind.

"Take your next left," she growls through the agony at the man in the driver's seat. "If you go right, they find you. They fight you."