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| Breakout; Brotherhood and CAGE inmates | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 25 2009, 01:32 AM (3,450 Views) | |
| Zeitgeist | Jul 27 2009, 12:44 PM Post #16 |
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Axel Cluney
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Fucking snipers. Before reaching the Russian comrade mutant inmates dropped. They were hitting the floor like flies killed in mid air with a fly swatter. Cursing under his breath as he pulled the girl along he hoped she wouldn’t be hit when he wasn’t looking. Luckily Piotr saw them and closed the gap. Zeitgeist’s smile widened. Everything moved at the speed of light. They were accompanied by Kyle, the other Brotherhood guy, and the hot blue mutant that free fell out of the window. She tossed the girl he was pulling along a rifle. It was probably a good idea. She’d need it. They had to take out the generators. One more step to freedom. Petey said he was going after the EM generator. Before Axel could replied that he’d go with him to that generator they were cut off by two guards. The Russian attacked the one with the gun and took a fighting stance to kick the shit out of the other one. Before either one could take a step the sound of gun fire was heard. Looking over he saw it was the girl Piotr liked, holding a Punisher rifle and smoke coming out of the barrel. Clearing his throat as his fellow Sayan said anyone who was coming was welcome. Smirking he replied, “Man, you know I’m in!” He followed the man he called his friend towards the generator. Both of whom probably knew where they were better than any other man or mutant within the CAGE. Leaving the others behind, and running towards freedom. “Comrade I don’t know who that blue chick was but she’s hot!” Admittedly he knew now wasn’t the time to be unfocused on their freedom, but Axel couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the blue smooth skin, or the long strong legs. Either way, Zeitgeist was in love. “Damnit.” He thought, “I have been in CAGE too damn long.” Shaking his head he spoke to his friend again, “Sorry man, couldn’t resist!” Speaking with a small smile. |
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| Feral | Jul 27 2009, 06:03 PM Post #17 |
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Unregistered
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Running about the crowd, the young feral finally came across her friend. Seeing the woman, she threw her hands up, as if she had accomplished the first of many tasks that were going to be set before her today. She couldn't wait for more exciting and wonderful things to unfold. And, of course, they did. Grabbing the woman's hand with a confident grasp, Feral ran through the spectators' area, in which, bullets were now being shot into, nearly always hitting one of the many targets that were available to the snipers above her, one hitting the large green man that she had had to pretend to be her leader. "Good riddance." She said, watching the man's limp body fall to the ground, bringing the blood and brains which were shooting out with him. Though there were many other victims, this seemed to be the only notable one to the girl. It was the only victim she could even see, despite Sack's getting hit in his arm. As the inmates ran through the helicarrier, hands holding one another's as if they were linked together, the Latina brought up the end. She could not tell who was on point, in the masses, but assumed that it was probably Piotr or one of the Sayans, whom Tina had apparently bonded with. Looking towards the Pit, as the bullets continued to pour in from the circular observation deck above the battle ground, another lifeless body, this time, appearing to be one of the snipers above them, fell into what had become a dumping ground for bodies. And, soon after, the bullets came to a halt. Feeling safe once again, Maria stood erect, rather than slumping as she had to prevent getting shot. Very soon after, the blue woman whom she had just seen jumped like she was a cat, landing in a squat. Had the surrounding environment not been absolute bedlam, she would have considered clapping for her. Luckily, the blue woman was on their side. Tina was given a huge gun, as well as, who she could now make out as Piotr and another large Sayan in front of her. Soon enough, the band of inmates traveled indoors, and witnessed the brutal death (Or possibly just being rendered unconscious) of a few of the guards that got in the way of the pack. Feral did nothing. She simply followed, feeling that she would be called upon when she was needed. |
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| Larry Trask | Jul 29 2009, 03:17 AM Post #18 |
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Unregistered
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Trask normally didn't act on his visions, if and when one of them came to him during the few scant minutes of a day that he wasn't wearing his own null cuff. His father was a genius, worthy to be mentioned in the same breath as da Vinci, Tesla, or Pym. In fact, Bolivar Hugo Trask's genius outstripped those. Trask wasn't just a scientist in a lab, but a patriot, whose genius not only helped his country, but kept humanity alive. If it weren't for Bolivar Trask, Larry didn't have a doubt that the mutants, like that maniac Magneto would be sitting pretty in the Oval Office and declaring this a "mutantocracy" or some such nonsense after killing the president. But this wasn't normal. The CAGE was under attack, and Larry was going to be seeing the whole board of this. "Hmm, the end result still hasn't changed. Initial assault was ineffective." There was not a second of hesitation from that assessment to the order that he issued next. "Deploy Epsilon Squadron to the field generators. Alpha Lock the null room. No one is getting into that. Cover exits outside the pit. Sonic disruptors on ten on all prisoners, fire arms for anyone moving." After relaying the orders, he sat in silence for just a second. His eyes closed, his much hated mutation was giving him his next move. He clipped on a bluetooth to his ears, and decided it was time for him to escalate plans. He ordered the Captain of the Helicarrier to keep his batteries armed and ready for any aerial engagements. If what he had seen was correct, then his father's last gift was going to have to be engaged. |
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| Sack | Jul 29 2009, 04:01 AM Post #19 |
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Unregistered
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God things were going bad. Heads were exploding, sending grey matter all over the place. It was more than just poppin' caps. It was probably worse than getting suck in a bag with a bunch of raibid ferrets. Guns were goin' off, bodies sending out red spray and toppling over. Sack didn't even bother to wipe the blood and brain guts of his now-dead leader, Vessel. He didn't even feel it or smell it. All he felt was fear. He had to get outta here. Ducking against a wall, Sack remained in a deep crouch, ignoring the feeling of his own protoplasmic blood running over his hand and down his arm, Sack gritted his teeth. "Fucking assholes and tits gunshots hurt," he whined peevishly, daring a glance at the wound. Immediately he looked away. "Ooooh whyyyy God? Whyyyy?" he whimpered, looking to the heavens with his yellow eyes. "Why'd you let me get shot, God? Jesus it hurts. Oh God, I used the Lord's name in vain. Fuck. Shit! This is what I get for talkin' about fucking God's creations..." Clamping his hand tigheter over the wound, Sack looked around through the melee. Bodies were running against eachother. Some mutants took liberties to attack eachother, but from Sack's point of view it looked like they had rallied. Good. They better carry on the last will of Vessel. Looking further, Sack spotted the group of Sayans with those other cats. Wincing through the pain of his arm being shot, he watched them part. One went one direction, and one went to the others. "Fuck... There they go..." he said, watching Piotr and Zeit. "That asshole better not have lied about Magneto comin..." Struggling to his feet, Sack kept to the wall, trailing after them. Before he could make it through the doorway, one of the guards showed up, covering the doors. Sack winced, holding his arm, sliding up the side of the wall. They seemed to be more focused in on the masses rather than individuals, but Sack wasn't too sure. Who knew with these guys? Making sure to keep himself as small as possible, which wasn't too damn hard given his full height, Sack eaaased his way on up to the guard, not moving whenever the goggled face of the douchebag looked his way. But, as the cruel hand of fate would have it, he was noticed. Freezing up like a deer as the muzzle of that gun aimed at him, Sack shut the fuck up. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck! His pants became wet. The guard moved his muzzle, obeying whatever orders he had, and shot over his shoulder. Sack, now by the hand of God, was saved by his own cowardice. Taking a big step (normal step for big people) forward, Sack's foot shot out and caught the guard in the nuts with the toe of his foot. The guard gave a wheezing gasp as Sack shoved his nuts back up into his pelvic. The blue mutant jammed the knee into the guard's face, sending him to the ground in a state of semi-consciousness. Giving him an extra stomp, Sack leaned down and grabbed the guys' headphones. If there was one thing he knew that happened with a riot, it was that there was an insane sound that brought people to their knees. Ignoring the blood from his arm he put the earmuffs around his neck and grabbed the guys gun. Fuck yes. It was a fucking gattling rifle. Forgetting to grab any ammo, Sack shot through the door with a wet trail behind him, hoping he was going the right direction after the two Sayans. |
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| Saint | Jul 30 2009, 10:02 PM Post #20 |
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Hypnosis / Psionic Bolts
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After watching Piotr deal with the duo of guards who had impeded their way for a brief moment, Kyle watched in mild awe as he and Tina worked in unison to bring the two guards down. For the last few months of being caught and imprisoned, Saint had longed to see some guards receiving a taste of the brutality upon which the mutants had been inflicted. Following behind the pair, Kyle ran down and scooped up the gun that the guard had dropped, feeling its heavy weight in his hands and knowing that this would help turn the tide a little. While on the outside he had little use for the weapons, Saint had still trained a little with them, taking some from Murder-worlds small armory and using them for target shooting. Granted, with his knives his aim was pretty damn fine, but with taking into account recoil and weight, shooting something was harder than simply throwing blades. Deciding to let the better shot have the weapon, he passed the Punisher to Mystique and instead took the stun baton. Guns were good but they needed every weapon which they could get. "Then we shall take out the nullifier!" he called after the advancing Russian, before starting to follow the Russian with the others towards the room at the far end of the CAGE which held the one of two things which brought them down to the level of the scum that held them. The nullifier. "We go down here till the end of the corridor and then take the left, then a right and its straight ahead. Rage, Mystique, your taking out anybody following us. Maria, stay close and if we get split up, try and get behind us. We will keep you safe, ok?" he said quickly, before he began sprinting through the corridor. A guard heading through the side entrance became the victim of the stun baton slamming into his arm, the force of the blow making an audible crunch. Continuing with the brief attack, Kyle slammed a knee into the mans groin and with his spare hand, slammed the guards uncovered head into the wall, a thin streak of blood on the pale coloured concrete as the victim fell to the floor. As he started to guide them down the corridor, Kyle could hear the sounds of the guards following but surprisingly, there was no-one ahead of them. In Saint's head, alarm bells were ringing in surprise at this but he ignored them. Only one corridor to go and they would be at the.... steel door? Slowing down as he approached it, Kyle suddenly realised that destroying the generator would be a damn sight easier than breaking down the door. Suddenly, without warning, a large piercing sound filled the hallway as the sonic weapons that were wielded by the prisoners meant to help subdue prisoners went off from Trasks orders. Saint dropped the baton to the floor as the sound pierced his eardrums, his head filled with a racking pain. The plan had started off so well but now it was defiently meeting its obstacles. (hope this is alright, if not i can change it I got the info wrong or im gm'in too much) |
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| Raven Darkholme | Jul 31 2009, 05:59 AM Post #21 |
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Unregistered
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Mystique turned and began down the corridor, following behind Piotr and the rest of the group. She watched with a smile as Piotr and Rage made short work of two guards who got in their way, and then caught the rifle that Kyle threw to her. ""We go down here till the end of the corridor and then take the left, then a right and its straight ahead. Rage, Mystique, your taking out anybody following us. Maria, stay close and if we get split up, try and get behind us. We will keep you safe, ok?" Kyle said, commanding the group as if he had never missed a step. Mystique nodded once, agreeing with his orders. She moved to the rear of the group with Rage and then continued forward, pausing only for a moment as the rest of the group slowed down to allow Kyle to take out a guard. They then continued on, moving down the corridor quickly. Mystique glanced back every few steps, hearing the sounds of approaching guards that seemed to be coming behind them. She couldn't determine how many there were, but she knew that there had to be quite a few by the sounds of their boots. Finally reaching a large steel door, Mystique took a knee and raised her rifle up to cover the group, just as a few soldiers were rounding the corner. Mystique fired at the first one she saw, dropping him, just as two more shot around the corner and raised up a weapon that looked to be some kind of sound amplifier. As soon as the weapon was pointed in her direction, a deafening and mind numbing noise filled her ears and she fell forward onto her left and, still holding the Punisher rifle in her right. The other solder raised his weapon as well, shooting the sonic disrupters at their small group. She was only down for a moment before her mutation adjusted to the noise. A wave of change washed over just her head, causing her ears to completely disappear. This of course, made her deaf, but temporarily immune to the sonic disrupters. Looking up with anger in her eyes, Mystique raised her rifle and fired a short burst at both of the soldiers, dropping them both and alleviating the rest of the group's pain caused by the sound. Her ears instantly reformed and she looked to Feral. "Grab those weapons, quickly!" she ordered, looking back to see the large metal door that the group was being held up by. She glanced at Colossus and then stood, moving to the front of the group where Kyle and Piotr were at. "Quick, give me your shirt," Mystique ordered, dreading what she was about to do. But with any luck, Piotr would solve everything quicker than she could. Raven morphed her body again, revealing that she was not even wearing any clothing besides a black bra, and reached behind her back to unsnap it. Taking Piotr's over sized orange shirt, she slipped it on and then took her bra off, falling to her knees as a wave of nausea rolled over her caused by the sudden disruption of her mutation. Her beautiful blue skin and dark red hair faded fast, leaving her with creamy white skin and dark brown hair. Mystique held the bra out to Piotr almost weakly, her hand shaking from the sudden attack on her body by the nullifier. "Put this on somehow... and destroy.... everything," Raven said, looking up to them. She now appeared to Kyle and Piotr just as she did that day where she had met up with them. Her body shaking slightly as she stood, using her rifle as support, she resumed her task of providing cover. Raven, now nothing more than a homo-sapien, took up her spot in the rear once more and began firing at the oncoming security forces. This time, however... the recoil of that rifle was pounding her shoulder much more than before. |
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| Colossus | Aug 2 2009, 08:26 PM Post #22 |
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Unregistered
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Rounding the corner and leading the charge out of this infernal pit, Colossus stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening slightly in surprise at the large steel barrier in front of him. Lockdown. He stopped in front of it, staring at it for several moments as shots and screams rang out behind him; he pressed his hand against the cold steel, feeling a certain familiarity with the metal, and at the same time, a horrible outrage that it was in his way at that very moment. Piotr used to command this element… in his mutant form he would have been able to fold this door several times over as if it were cardboard. He suddenly struck the barrier with his good fist in frustration, scraping his knuckle and setting it on fire… he didn’t even bother considering one of the other exits… it would take them longer to get to their destined target, and what was the point? Every other way out of this place was sealed off in a similar manner. Colossus was sure of it. Pain erupted in Piotr’s head as he crumpled to the floor, throwing his hands up over his ears in an attempt to ward off the deafening wail that engulfed his entire body. This was it… the Brotherhood’s attempt at freeing them was over; they had nothing to show for it but another fellow inmate. Colossus rolled over on his stomach and made an attempt to stand up, but as soon as he lowered his palms from his ears, the nearly unbearable pain suddenly became ten times worse. There was no way he was able to even stand at this rate. He looked around apologetically at the others in his group as if their failure was somehow his fault. And suddenly the assault ceased; Colossus found an upright Mystique with a rifle leveled in the direction they had just come. Looking down the corridor, he found dead bodies, and several more guards rounding the corridor just in time to find out about their fallen comrades, hesitating as they processed the sight… that moment’s pause was all the mutants needed. "Quick, give me your shirt." The order Mystique gave him was horribly muffled… as if he had heard the words while his head was under water, likely due to the device they had used on him. Piotr didn’t hesitate, however, pulling himself up to his knees and ripping his shirt off over his head; it was a strange order, and Colossus didn’t understand why she wanted his shirt, but any hesitation at this juncture would likely get them all killed, and the Sayan would not be responsible for that. The bare-chested Russian threw Mystique his large shirt, noting the change in wardrobe. She was now wearing nothing at all, but a bra… if this were any other situation, Piotr would likely be embarrassed, but he barely had time to process her current state of dress before she slipped his own shirt over her head and slipped her bra off. Pulling it out from underneath the orange fabric, she held out the garment toward the Sayan, her body already changing into more of a human appearance as she fell to her knees. "Put this on somehow... and destroy.... everything." He wasted no time. Colossus finally understood what she was doing… the bra must have contained a device capable of countering the affects of the null tech in the CAGE. Colossus immediately redid the snap and slipped it over his weak arm, doubling it twice more as if it were an oversized hair band. He could feel the effects of the nullification suddenly disappearing as he worked, and his heart skipped a beat. He could access his abilities again… they were there. Suddenly an explosion similar to the first erupted in his head as several of the sonic devices were pointed directly at them. The Russian threw his hands up to his head once more, but instead of collapsing to the ground, he had another reaction… his natural mutant one. His skin morphed, becoming shiny and metallic as the change climbed up his body; he could no longer feel the cool air in the corridor, or the shooting pain in his arm every time he moved… or even the affects of the device invading his mind. He immediately turned back toward the door, his jaw clenched tight as he swung a powerful, organic steel fist at the barrier, causing it to cave in under the pressure of his blow. He repeated the process, the large concave area growing considerably in size; once more and the point of contact suddenly split open as his fist went through the material. Piotr yanked his hand free from the hole and grasped the tear with both hands and began to pull the steel door toward him, his foot planted at its base. Fingers dug grooves into the metal as the hole continued to grow as if it were paper being ripped. With a loud groan, Colossus ripped the door off the walls of the corridor and lifted it over his head; he could suddenly feel the familiar pings of bullets bouncing off his back… their captors were getting serious about keeping them there. The metal Russian then threw the door down on the other side of his group, wedging the large slab of metal between them and their pursuers. The sonic disruptors that had proved to be so crippling were now ineffective through the makeshift shield he had erected for them. Making sure it was secure, Piotr looked back at Kyle and Mystique, “Let’s go.” Piotr followed Kyle as the Acolyte lead the way down the corridor several yards before reaching a flight of stairs; once reached, the Russian volunteered to go first so that he could ward off any attacks. He was unsure whether he should have given the bra back after their little dilemma was over, but decided that he would continue to wear it and use his abilities to aid in the escape until someone else’s abilities would prove more affective. Piotr lead the way down the flight of stairs, the shouts of the guards fading off as they got further away. They had reached the bottom without incident, but as Colossus reached the floor directly below theirs, he glanced over his shoulder at Kyle, looking to him for direction. The Acolyte seemed to know this place much better than he did. However, before Piotr could even begin to ask a question as he stepped into the new set of hallways, an explosion engulfed his entire head, knocking the Russian off his feet as he felt something incredibly powerful bounce off his steel head. |
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| Cameron Hodge | Aug 2 2009, 08:27 PM Post #23 |
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Director of SHIELD
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“Sir!” “I know,” Hodge exclaimed in that clipped tone of his as he slipped his other arm through his dark leather trenchcoat while hauling ass down the surface of their brand new – and only – SHIELD helicarrier. As soon as his coat was on properly, he held out a hand, and the junior officer that had been interrupted slapped a satellite phone in his superior’s hand. His first call regarding Trask’s special project would be the man himself, but he likely had his hands full with the breakout, which was the very reason Cameron was climbing into the back of one of SHIELD’s prototype MBX-033-A alongside the three compliments of assault troops already gathered. The MBX was supposed to serve one main purpose… to get a large amount of troops to a location and do it extremely fast. The last one on the plane, the cargo door hydraulics activated, causing the cargo bay door to slowly raise behind him. “This is Director Hodge. SHIELD code Charlie-Sierra-Hotel-One-Seven-Niner-Foxtrot-Alpha-Six-Six. Deploy West CEI… destination transponder code three-seven-one-two-fife-three. Code red!” Thankfully their location wasn’t too far from the incident. As long as Trask could hold them off for about twenty minutes. Cameron punched in a series of numbers and brought the phone back up to his face, “Trask… if you’re available, I need an update.” Within minutes, two MBX-033-D’s approached the cloaked CAGE, the polymer blades of the helicopter version of the MBX series whirring almost noiselessly. Despite the fact that it was invisible to the naked eye and most forms of electronic detection, the pilots had no problem approaching it thanks to the special screen built into the windshield. Captain Roger Leeche brought his communicator to his lips, “Handlers, switch the twenty minute capsules to the thirty minute ones and be ready to activate and release. It’s not like we can replace them.” With that, he looked over at the lithe form of a masked woman behind him, her tight-fitting suit showing off her curves. He handed her three black canisters, “You have half an hour. MDS detected mutie signatures out there, so get to the generator room. Whatever it takes, Zero.” The choppers disappeared from view as they passed through the cloaking field barrier, suddenly the entire ship exploded into view to those on the two MBX’s. The choppers began their decent to two of the landing pads. |
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| Magneto (old) | Aug 2 2009, 08:28 PM Post #24 |
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Magnokinesis / Flight
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Magneto was a patient man. He considered it one of his more dangerous traits… along with his intellect. Any fool could wield his power over the magnetic spectrum with training and experience; very few could stand there and be prepared to wait for hours without knowing what the hell was going on. Only a handful of people had that much faith in his own people and the work put into training them. The fact was that Saint and Mystique were extremely capable, and with Rage at their back and a desperate myriad of inmates with nothing to lose, they would find a way, and Magneto would stand there for as long as it took until they found a way to allow him to help them. Suddenly two helicopters flew overhead, heading the direction of the magnetic void he detected out there. The newly-arrived choppers were a welcome sight as well as an annoyance… it meant that there was something going on within the confines of the prison and reinforcements were arriving. However, it meant reinforcements were arriving. The Master of Magnetism reached out with a hand in an attempt to bring the vehicles down, but nothing happened. He could detect no metal in the vehicles… Magneto frowned, glaring at them as they shrunk into the distance. “These primates are learning.” |
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| Pyro | Aug 3 2009, 04:16 AM Post #25 |
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Pyrokinesis/Fiery Puns
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St. John had been walking for a while in the desert of Nevada, enduring the fierce heat of the fucking hot sun. Though most people probably would have fainted, St. John had been bred and born in the southern hemisphere on the other side of the continent where the land was like this place outside of the cities. Accustomed to the temperature and heat itself, he had no real problem getting to the Master of Magnetism. He was, needless to say, in a happy mood. Today they were finally going to get their allies and team-mates out of the mutant prison, whilst in the process releasing a good bit of the prisoners inside. That was the plan at least. Anyways, St. John juggled his zippo in his hand, tossing it up in the air and catching it as it fell again. He'd been a bit giddy for a while now, having set part of the desert on fire. Of course, he put it out, preventing a crazy brushfire from starting. He'd be fine with it, but that'd ruin the suprise. Coming up next to his commander, St. John tried to follow his gaze up to the skies, where the cloaked prison that held their comrades lurked. "Somewhere up there..." he began, then fell silent as two helicopters passed overhead. Reinforcements? Shit was going down, then? "These primates are learning." "But they'll never forget." Smirking, St. John habitually began the incessant open-and-shut clicking of his lighter, the light of the flame casting a warm glow on his dark clothes. |
[align=center]![]() Olga gets credit for the cinders and gifness.[/align] | |
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| Blackout | Aug 3 2009, 05:46 PM Post #26 |
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Unregistered
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Being drenched with blood was one of those things that were enjoyable only when personally elected. The guards were growing more frantic by the second, getting careless with their shooting, spraying bullets into the crowded Pit. Lucian had shut his eyes, back rigid against the wall, trying to imagine himself elsewhere, when the veiny red gloam had blotted out, and blood and little bits of flesh expulsed themselves all over him. His eyes shot open just in time to watch a shattered trunk crumple in front of him, Lucian’s brows rocketing, lips parting into a little ‘O’, heartbeat freezing. A thicker globule dribbled along his cheek, clotting at his neck. After a moment of reorienting himself, with bloody sleeves he swiped at the mess already congealing thicker on his skin in little gobs and divots, weighting down his jumpsuit, which had little more effect than smearing it into a sticky paste. He was, currently, having a difficult time catching his breath, despite being sat perfectly still, rolling waves of panic travelling through his veins like he’d mainlined a few shots of pure caffeine. This wasn’t really as fun as he’d envisioned, all those times he’d imagined the rabble surrendering to their animalistic side, devolving into baser brain function… mostly because he had absolutely no control over this messy shindig. He had no means with which to defend himself, or herd the stampeding inmates, and there was an increasingly real chance of catching a stray bullet and watching his ribcage explode or finding out what his intestines really looked like. Today, he might die. Dying, he decided, through the incessant jittering of his nerves, was not something he wanted to do. Lucian only liked mysteries that had a solution, however abstract or improbable, and Death was one of those impossible enigmas that people could only guess at and hypothesise and philosophise about. Some made grand claims and gestures, and theologians ranted about deities, and scientists were dusty and finalistic, and then you had existentialists like Sartre who were just emo kids trying to dress themselves like adults, making supercilious and solipsistic claims about the state of the human condition. And then you had the quantum hippy theorists who were too greedy and intellectually lazy to try and pin one line of thought down, and just twittered how everything existed everywhere simultaneously in one great big psychedelic Circle of Life. And then, past that, he realised he was attempting to distract himself by thinking too hard. Blood and ichor swilled around bodies, half-digested prison slop spattered in slimy ropes, all of it stunk like shit. Lucian felt bile rise in his throat, swallowing hard to stop himself from vomiting. One of the younger prisoners, one of those gullible junkie types who had spiralled all the way down a very long hole, made all the wrong life choices, she’d pressed herself up against one of the obtuse rickety seating joints, right next to where he was crushing himself against the wall. Trying to make himself as small as he could was near impossible when some blubbering bitch was having an existential crisis in the middle of what was turning out to be a piss poor re-enactment of Colditz. Her high-pitched screams rivalled the sonic alarms. Not exactly conducive to imagining oneself away to the colourful spectra of mental escapism. He twisted himself where he sat, craning towards the whimpering female, aggressively shoving a hand towards her. “Give me your hand, sweetheart.” She stared at him like he was thrusting a glazed ham in front of her nose, grasped it like sharks on a baby seal. Lucian very briefly marvelled at the psychology of life-threatening situations. Trust issues went flying out of the window, along with common sense and ingrained boundaries. He hadn’t even had to give her the old help me help you pep talk, hadn’t had to tickle her with the prospect of establishing some sort of temporary partnership. Her fingers coiled around his, tightening with desperate hope. And then he wrenched her from her precious little corner, slammed a foot into her backside and sent her spinning and slipping away into the central slick of bodies and entrails where she whirled straight into the line of fire. Her skull exploded like an overripe watermelon. Before Luc could wriggle towards that nice concave hidey-hole, the alarm squealed into life. As one, the churning Pit flattened, prisoners halting mid-stride where they pressed against the exits, dropping like a collection of sun-baked flies. The automatic reaction to being struck by sonic disruptors was to stop, drop and roll, while clutching at ones ears and generally flailing around in a helpless jumble of limbs and orange. Lucian went through the motions with textbook precision, vision discolouring and blurring, senses suddenly unbearable. Scrabbling like a dismembered kitten, he shuffle-scraped his way towards the awning and squashed himself into it, palms crushing at the sides of his skull. Lost to fucking sonar. Soon his brain cells would start crackling, snap snap snapping like a bowl of Cocoa Pops, blistered away by the decibels vibrating through his cranial cavity. Brain damage to a drum roll. How poetic. Whoever had organised this breakout was a moron, Lucian thought, a moron with a penchant for disaster, who almost certainly got their jollies on to slaughterhouses and mass murders. Probably a sociopath. Lucian thought he remembered, through the blinding noise, in one of those meandering rumours somebody mentioning the name Magneto. Mm, a moronic sadist. No surprises then. |
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| Rage | Aug 4 2009, 12:36 AM Post #27 |
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Unregistered
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Rage followed along with the others behind until they all hit a steel door. Her hazel eyes looked at the door and took a deep exhale. Suddenly one of the more agonizing sounds one could ever hear in the world it sent her to her knees. Having dropped the Punisher rifle and crying out in pain her head screamed for the pain to stop. When the sound stopped she looked up and only heard minimal ringing. By the time she stood to her feet and picked the rifle back up Mystique was stripping down. Averting her eyes Tina didn't want to get even the tiniest of peaks. She didn't need visual conformation for a fact, that the blue mutant was beautiful. When she turned back her blue skin was no longer blue. She was, depowered. Piotr was wrapping her bra around his arm, it took a lot to hold back a smile. Although the urge to smile faded quickly when he transformed to his metal form. She stared on in adoration. His ability certainly was useful. With raw power he ripped the door from it's sides. As the others followed in the Rage Bringer did too, following near the end to cover their backs. Soon. So soon they would be home. The smell of fresh air was so close. A small smile formed on her face. They ran so hard for far so fast that when the Russian offered to go down first. The hazel eyed girl looked to their back to cover them. Keeping focus and waiting for the slightest movement. Until a small explosion of sorts was heard. She kept her head straight and focused. They couldn't risk an opening to be hit. |
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| Zeitgeist | Aug 4 2009, 12:37 AM Post #28 |
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Axel Cluney
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The second in command of the Sayans following someone else. All of it would be left behind. It was then Zeitgeist wondered where his leader was. Axel's train of thought flickered form one thing to another in the distance it took to reach the steel doors. “Fuck man.” Just then a ear piercing sound made the inmate hold his ears in agony. Luckily the sound didn't last long enough for his brains to explode. He looked up and saw the blue chick stripping. And Axel, being the man he was, really couldn't resist watching. “Huba huba.” He managed in a low tone. It really wasn't the time but like said before, he couldn't help it. But when she took off her bra her whole appearance changed. Tossing the Russian the bra Zeitgeist couldn't resist saying, “Glad she didn't toss that to me.” After Piotr strapped the bra around his arm and he changed to metal, Axel's smile grew to an all out beam. “Fuck man that's cool as shit.” He took care of the door as if it was nothing. They all ran out and through the corridors and halls of the prison. He had spent so long in the CAGE that freedom was merely a dream. But from that dream on that night he would wake up from the dream and find it a reality. That would be at least one thing to check off the list of dreams that wouldn't wake him up in the middle of the night. As the Russian comrade took to the stair Axel looked to his friend and told him, “Be careful man... that's an order.” Giving off a sly wink, there wouldn't be much for rank once they were out of the CAGE. But damn it all while they were still there some of his authority was there. Zeitgeist looked down the stairs to keep an eye out. Piotr reached the bottom, just as he was smiling in a small victory his friends' head was surrounded by an exploding light. “Pete!” It almost looked like whatever hit him bounced off his head. As much as he hated to admit it he couldn't go down and provide the backup needed in that fight. It rose Axel's temperament to just stand there and wait. The Russian was the heaviest hitter they all had. He had to go in first, and without backup. |
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| Saint | Aug 6 2009, 12:02 PM Post #29 |
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Hypnosis / Psionic Bolts
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Raising slightly off his knees from the piercing sounds that the guards were directing at them, Kyle saw as Mystique did what she did well, as she almost effortlessly took down the guards and directed them to seize the weapons. Kyle acquirred one of the guns from Feral and hoisted it in one hand, holding the baton in the other. But as soon as Mystique and Piotr directed each other to change their clothes and Kyle knew that Mystique would have something that would allow her to bypass the nullifier, letting her use her powers despite the prison. As soon as she handed over the bra, Piotr put it on and Kyle almost moved to grab Mystique as she looked weak for a moment but she recovered, her blue form giving way back to the pale human form which she had infiltrated the prison in. But seeing Piotr transform was something of beauty. His skin changed from its normal pinky hue to a metallic sheen as he became something new, his mutation a credit to their kind. His muscles became even more expressed in the mutation, the light shining slightly off the metal. He even seemed to grow bigger as well, becoming the Colosuss that his name described. With a show of power, he broke down the metal door and threw the chunk of it back at their followers creating a barricade between them, giving them a semblance of safety for now. Leading them down the hallway till they made it to a flight of stairs, which Piotr voluntered to go down first. Kyle began to follow him down the stairs but had to jump backwards as the sound of the small explosion was instantly followed by Piotr being knocked backwards. "Piotr!" he called out, suddenly realising that whatever it was that could knock back a man of metal would probably demolish any of the rest of them that went down there. "What the hell is down there?" he said, gingerly moving down the stairs, thinking in his head that every second counted. If they didn't destroy those generators, then they would have a hell of a lot worse deal in CAGE than they had now. With every second that passed their chance to escape shrunk with it. Sliding the baton behind, using its wrist strap to keep it on his arm, he readied the Punisher in his hand, ready to attack if Piotr couldn't recover fast enough. |
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| Ursa Major | Aug 8 2009, 04:45 AM Post #30 |
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Unregistered
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If one didn't know better, one would think that Mikhail and Laynia were on a date, the way that the Great Bear was cradling her with his admittedly hulking body. It wasn't some sort of depraved expression of glee at the bloodshed, and it wasn't even a sickening display of affection, even though it had been many years since Mikhail dared embrace her. It was, as fitting as it were for the two old souls, a simple pragmatic measure to protect her. It was, after all, Mikhail's fault that his lady was trapped in this hellscape with him. The poets of the ages, the ones that said that one could endure any misery as long as one was with the one that they loved, they were full of American-style bullshit. Having Laynia next to him didn't ease his pain, it magnified it. He didn't want her exposed to this nasty stuff. Ursa Major had grabbed the Punisher from the first guard that he had manhandled in the riot and gave it to Laynia. Despite his fretting over her, she was just as able and trained as he was. She picked off two guards herself, and Ursa grabbed a Punisher for himself. Ursa and his wife were bringing up the rear of the group, a few steps removed from the main group, a perilous position for the two, but it was part of their communist upbringing. Sacrificing on their part for the greater good. If the first beachhead failed, or if one of them fell, then Ursa Major or Darkstar would take their place. The sonic disruptors, Mikhail didn't like those. He threw himself on top of Laynia and forced himself to drag her back to safety on the opposite side of the corridor. Mikhail waited until the other team had broken down the door. That team needed to be able to work in peace, without the guards bearing down on them. <"We do this just like that one time in Benghazi,"> he commanded firmly. This was good for the Great Bear. Between the blue woman and the Acolyte, he could go back to accomplishing tasks, not creating them. The Bear knew tactics, not strategy. That was why he was the field leader of the Winter Guard, but the commander of the team was always Professor Phobos. Laynia was the best marksman in the KGB's Red Room since the legendary operative known only as the Black Widow. She rolled across corridor, letting loose a volley of fire that mowed down several of the regrouping Guardsmen. Mikhail followed immediately, clearing the opposite side. Mikhail and Laynia stayed at the demolish entrance, using the door frame as cover. It'd be a warm Russian winter day before they'd let through any guardsmen to shoot the main team in the back. |
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7:21 PM Jul 11