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| Breakout; Brotherhood and CAGE inmates | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 25 2009, 01:32 AM (3,448 Views) | |
| Pyro | Aug 22 2009, 05:58 PM Post #46 |
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Pyrokinesis/Fiery Puns
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When Magneto brought him into the air, Pyro felt an uneasiness that he felt on the ferris wheel once. His stomach lurched and he felt like vomitting, but he resisted the urge to puke up his lunch. Today was too important to vomit. Still, he had a thing against heights. He wasn't meant to fly -- if he was, he'd have been born with wings. Supressing that feeling, he concentrated on searching the skies for the floating mutant prison. Not bothering to vocalize his illness or why they were waiting in the air, a grin managed to spread across his face when Magneto spoke. "It is time." "Finally. Only took longer than the season to pass," he sneered as Magneto reached a hand out as they went through the air. Something happened, something Pyro couldn't see, and the CAGE flickered into existance, whatever cloaking device it had destroyed by some source, probably Magneto. Still grinning, St. John began flicking his lighter opan and shut. "And the first thing they'll see is our mark." His eyes drew off to the distance, looking down at the glinting ground. "Still, I get to get in there right? Saint and Tina are gonna need some help. These mutants will probably target eachother once the humans are dealt with." |
[align=center]![]() Olga gets credit for the cinders and gifness.[/align] | |
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| Sack | Aug 22 2009, 06:34 PM Post #47 |
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Unregistered
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"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAAAAY" Sack screamed as his legs carried him through the hallways, the thunderous sound of a mega beast behind him bulldozing through the hallways. Sack was not in a good way. Not at all. He shot the freakish monster in the face and made a break for it, but as it turned out, just because mutants were superior to humans didn't make them faster than fucking giant dogs with tentacle mouths. Skidding around a corner, Sack bumped into the wall, banging himself up as he ran like a panicked little girl. Again, if he had the piss to do it, he'd pee his hand again. "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK! PISS OFF!" he shouted, turning around and chucking the gun at the beast. It didn't even manage to stop it. It bellowed and roared in frustration as the panicked little blue guy scrambled away. Booking it, Sack was on the point of tears! Why was it chasing him!? "THERE'S SO MANY OTHER FUCKING TASTY PEOPLE. GO EAT THEM!" he dared to shout, looking over his shoulder briefly. It was close. "SHHIIIIIIIIT!" There was a popping sound -- a sound he hadn't heard since the day he was forced into this place. It came from his wrist, the sound just barely registering with his ears as his addrenaline pushed him forward. He ran, fleeing, knowing he'll never be able to outrun the tentacle-hound chasing him. Whatever the sound was, he couldn't pay attention to it, not while this freakish monster was hunting him. The abomination wouldn't stop. He had a feeling it was meant to kill mutants. Arms working, he felt the weight of the null cuff fall off and things went to hell. His gelatinous flesh began to sag, his speed drastically falling as his heels and toes stuck to the ground, peeling off in a thick sludge-like substance. His face began to melt, the protoplasmic muscles of his body unable to continue moving. His short purple hair began to mix with his face, his ears disappearing. Like a horrible painting, Sack began to fall apart, melting with the absence of the null cuff. Panick still set in, but despite this he came to a stop. His dull eyes began to glow again, the haunting appearance of the yellow light casting a dull golden haze on his blue substance. He lifted a hand, his fingers falling from the bones of his skeleton. Soon the protoplasmic flesh revealed his skull, the skinless, fleshless bones turning, horrifying in its natural appearance. He couldn't talk. He couldn't scream. He sank to his knees, the orange prison clothes hanging over the bare bones of his skeleton as he slumped down into the blue sludge around his feet. He tried to reach outwards. Fingertip bones scraped against the ground, and the beast was on top of him, devouring the blue sludge, bones, and clothes. As the creature ate it, even the bones began to break down, dissolving into the same substance as flesh. The creature slurped, ingesting the creature, acidic slime combining with the gelatinous flesh. It consumed, dissolving the clothes and bones and flesh, swallowing it whole, letting it combine with the remnants of the female prisoner it ate moments ago. Pressing its tentacle-covered maw against the ground, it slurped, making sure to consume every last drop of the goopy substance. As it did, its hunger still remained. It growled and prowled once more, lurching down the hallway in a thunderous motion. It roared, bellowed, and began chasing other prisoners. Until a blue something seeped out of its ears. Its nose. Its eyes, then finally its mouth. The blue sludged seeped out, clinging to the flesh of the beast, sliding over it, covering it. The substance began to become a transparent resin, slipping over the body of the hound like a thousand little hands. The writhing juices seeped from the orifices, and the hound stopped, scraping at its features. The substance continued to come, until the resin seeped into every nook and cranny of the creature, covering ever inch of skin. The beast stopped attacking itself as the resin sank against its skin. It stood still for a moment, then began twitching as though it were experiencing a seizure. Its spasms sent it in all directions, legs moving, tentacles swiping, mouth opening and closing. Claws flexed, haunches twitched, eyelids blinking. Then, the beast began to turn, taking a few steps at first, as if learning to walk again. Then it ran, charging with a silent intensity towards the direction of violence, its course taking it straight to the location of Zero-one. |
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| Zeitgeist | Aug 23 2009, 02:02 AM Post #48 |
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Axel Cluney
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They reached the generator room. Fucking finally. The pings of the bullets that were bouncing off of Petey made him clench his teeth. It was a good thing that he was invulnerable to the bullets. He hated the feel of being helpless. The Russian had managed to destroy one of the generators. He was thrown back due to the explosion. A small groan and opening his eyes he looked to the side to see Peter run off for the second generator. There was a high pitched ring coming from Axel's ears due to the explosion. He stood up slowly and also saw that the other guards were following and shooting at the Russian. He was headed for the second generator. There was a fire in him that urged him to continue on. Ignoring the ringing in his ears, the aggravating pain in the back of his head from the fall. Petey was already out of sight but it would be no problem for him to follow. As he did, Axel saw the guards shooting at him from behind. Following their lead he knocked out a guard one by one from behind. The first one he knocked out he swiped the weapon that fell. Suddenly off where the second generator was another explosion. It wasn't long after that he felt the null cuff fall on the ground. Then he felt a rumbling in his stomach. His power was back. It was time to invest in Tums again. Zeit continued to move down knocking out guards along the way until he found that there was a guard at his back. “Freeze you fucking mutie!” Shit! He raised his hands. “Turn around mutie!” Axel smirked. He turned and the gurgling in his stomach grew. He turned, seeing the guard in his riot uniform. He wasn't going to like this next part. Not at all. Suddenly as the guard was about to talk for another order Zeit gave a small groan, like he was going to be sick. “Yeah, that's right mutie. You're in a wooorld of sh-” Just then Axel spewed out a green fluid. Which landed on the guards' legs, and a very little bit on his torso. Spitting out the extra vomit in his mouth he remembered how much he hated throwing up. The guard gave a disgusted groan and readied his firearm. “Oh you're gonna pay for that you disgusting...” He felt something off. Something burning. He looked down and saw his uniform sizzling. He shouted as he tried to pat out the burning. Axel smirked. “Can't pat out acid... sir.” As he spoke the word 'sir' it was with a condescending tone. Zeit reared his fist back and punched it into the guard. If he didn't get the clothes off in time the acidic vomit would burn his legs. Maybe it wouldn't kill him, maybe it would. Either way it didn't matter. He continued on, re powered, and soon so very soon he would be free. |
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| Rage | Aug 23 2009, 04:16 AM Post #49 |
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Unregistered
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Tina walked into a room around the corner holding her arms. The beast that lunged at her met it's death. Of course the first dozen bullets that hit it didn't even phase it, but when some of the tentacles wrapped around her arms, it left the back of it's skull vulnerable. Unfortunately her arms were vulnerable to it's teeth. It would have killed her had it mot been for a lucky aim and the Punisher Rifle. Through all that she made her way into the generator room, and down the way to see if she could find the rest of the group. In the midst of it all she had managed to get herself separated, and lost. Saint had paid more attention to the layout of the prison then she had. She recalled the beast as it had laid in it's own acidic slime, she was thankful not of which had landed on her. She had been very lucky. Despite the injuries on her arms. It was something she could live with once she was free. Suddenly the null cuff on the Rage Bringer's wrist fell to the ground. Instantaneously she felt so much better. As she was in the CAGE she felt ill, and like there was a massive rope wrapped around her, holding her down and back. But in the second it took for the cuff to fall to the ground, the weight was gone, and she felt so much better. Feeling that way one other time before, with that medical doctor, she knew what this feeling was. And sighed happily. One more step closer to freedom. She walked along when two guards had cut her off. Aimed and ready to fire. One of the guards spoke to the other, “She's injured, go and bring that useless prisoner to her knees.” Rage smirked, and her eyes turned from hazel to red. She poured all she could into the guards. He spoke, “Why don't you get her?” “Because I gave you and order.” As the rage flowed on and into them, their tone grew more and more hateful. Lowering his fire arm and facing the first guard he continued, “Well I'm sick of your orders!” Lowering his firearm he addressed his colleague. “You will do as you're told soldier!” They argued on and she watched with the red misty vision she had long missed. Waiting for the inevitable. Which was soon to come. And it did. It didn't take long for the two guards to turn the weapons on the other. Rage was pulling back from her power just as they had shot each other. Tina smiled. As she walked past the guards one was still alive, but not for long. He gurgled as he looked up at her. She chuckled and walked right by him. “How's that for 'useless', Sapien?” She walked on to continue looking for allies. |
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| Raven Darkholme | Aug 23 2009, 06:16 AM Post #50 |
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Unregistered
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Mystique felt the muscles in her stomach tense and her hips pushed upwards slightly as she convulsed, causing more of the frothy red foam to ooze from her mouth. She was finding it extremely hard to breath and she frantically began to think that she was aspirating her own blood. Again her stomach tensed and she tried to set up, finding her head extremely heavy. This caused her to lay back flat immediately and she coughed, trying to flush the blood from her airway and esophagus. This wasn't good. Not good. For the first time in her life, Raven felt like she was going to die. Blood coursed down her face, around her nose into her eyes, blurring her vision terribly. Her chest cavity filled with blood, creating more pressure on her lungs. Finally, she went limp and stared blankly into the ceiling, exhaling a breath and suddenly finding that she could not draw in another breath due to the pressure. She would have struggled or put up a fight for air, but she simply could not move. As she laid there, she could hear feet passing by her. Explosions seemed to occur nearby. Yet everyone left the dying woman alone. Either a guard passed and thought that she was dead, or none of her mutant companions recognized the blood covered form on the ground. The lights seemed to dim around her and she felt very weak and extremely faint. The world seemed to grow more and more dark. Slowly, her eyes began to close. This was it. Game over, man... game over! BOOOOM! Another explosion rocked the world around her and the feeling of the null-generator exploding caused her eyes to quickly reopen. She was unsure of what it was, but considering she suddenly had the strength to raise a hand, she got the idea. Mystique slowly raised a hand up in front of her eyes and the pale white skin flushed blue. Her mind was still quite in tact, and she willfully closed her eyes in order to focus on her mutant ability. A wave of invisible energy washed over her body from head to toe, leaving behind not only no traces of injury, but no traces of blood. Mystique suddenly sat up and she quickly went from being a helpless dying human, to a ruthless and angry mutant terrorist. Not only were her wounds gone, but her hair, make-up and clothing were perfect. Among the chaos of the fight, she was suddenly a rose among the thorns. Her beautiful features quickly distorted, however, as anger washed over her face. Mystique climbed to her feet with inhuman speed and clenched her teeth, showing them off as if she were snarling. The many footsteps that she had heard were guards moving past her towards the others, assuming that she was dead. Now with their backs to her and firing at will at Colossus, Mystique moved behind the five men. With not respect for life, Mystique went to work on the five men. She approached the first and kicked him so hard in the side of the head that his neck broke, sending his helmet flying. Taking a step with the same foot that she had just killed a man with, she grabbed the second around the neck with her left arm, choking him effortlessly as he began kicking. He raised his rifle up to shoot up and back at her, but her long right arm reached around him and yanked the weapon from his grasp. She dropped it to the ground, having no interest in shooting anyone at the moment. Raven dragged the man to the third guard, still choking the second, and reached up and over his head. She stuck to fingers in his nostrils from behind and yanked him backwards, causing the third man to fall flat on his back. Before he could sit back up again, Mystique brought the heel of her right foot down on his face with a vicious stomp. This, of course, killed him. Raven then quickly yanked her left arm around, breaking the second guard's neck. He fell like a sack of potato's onto the ground. The fourth and fifth guards were standing next to each other, still firing at Colossus. Mystique quickly came up behind them and grabbed them both by their belts, yanking them backwards. They both hit the ground and rolled a couple of times and by the time that they stopped, Mystique was standing over them with a Punisher rifle in each hand. With a shot fired simultaneously into both of their heads, they were dead. In less than a few seconds, Mystique ended five human lives. Throwing the rifles down, Mystique turned and saw exactly who she was looking for. The mutant was heading towards Colossus. "Hey, I'm not through with you, you fucking bitch!" Mystique yelled angrily, pointing a finger towards Zero-one. It was actually rare for Mystique to curse. She was one of those types that thought that it proved a lower IQ or something like that. But in this case, Raven Darkholme was extremely pissed. So much, in fact, that she wanted to beat every human in this facility to death with her bare hands - along with any mutant that supported them. First on her list was Zero-one. Stepping over the bodies of the humans that she had just killed, Mystique angrily marched directly for Zero-one, not even noticing the large hound that was coming towards her as well. |
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| Blackout | Aug 23 2009, 10:18 PM Post #51 |
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Unregistered
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For a while, there were just vibrations and muffled thuds and shouts thumping through the dull roar, and the fuzzy black of the crook of his elbows where he shoved his head in a futile attempt to block out the alarm. Sometimes there was a strangled scream, and through the cacophony it sounded like how Lucian imagined God might sound, if God was embodied by death and stifled horror. When the alarm cut off it was difficult to tell, echoes continuing to reverberate around his skull, cilia shrieking as they died, and he remained in the same position, coiled into himself, a tense little ball waiting for the moment a stray bullet would catch him by surprise. It’d enter through the occipital and his eyeballs would explode as it punched him a nice new nasal passage. His final thoughts would be launched through the air at breakneck speed, puttering out before he had the chance to realise he was dead. And then freedom was announced by a click. The null bracelet fell in what seemed like half time, sailing to earth like a sycamore seed. Lucian found himself staring at it dumbstruck, marvelling at the way it cracked and clattered across the flooring, bouncing away from his feet, and at first didn’t quite register the enormity of what had just happened. The clacking was chorused by countless others, and it sounded like rainfall, a brief round of applause, smattering in like radio static through the howling tinitus. Everything stilled, and for a few moments, save for dying moans and pained sobs and the incessant trilling in his ears, there was silence. The guards’ horror leaked like a blanket of tar from where they stood and stared, open mouthed, over the tops of their rifles, fingers quivering at their triggers. Inmates gawped at the feel of fresh air on wrists and ankles. Someone laughed. A wild scream of triumph broke the quiet. Fear taking on a whole new edge, the guards once again snatched up their weapons. Lucian’s fingertips buzzed, and then his toes, and then his veins were on fire, and he wasn’t sure if the feeling terrified him or filled him with a furious excitement. It was like breathing again for the first time, the initial strangled hackings of a newborn, splitting past the meniscus, throwing his head back from an ice-cold bucket of water. Time became squeezed and distended, constricting tighter and tighter until he thought the air pressure might rise to boiling point. Finite trembles shuddered through his bones, his skin, little earthquakes rumbling through his organs, but he decided it wasn’t the acidic shiver of fear that set his limbs quaking. Lucian was overwhelmed. Two years, or more, or less-- he’d lost track of exactly how long it had been-- had passed since he had heard but a whisper of machination. Not even the faintest mutter of electronic echoes, the snickering scuttle of his nanites hushed, and when his hands pressed against the cold, apathetic stretches of steel that made up the ligature of the helicarrier they were dead, dead, just bones and ribs and dormant skeletal remains, and he had lived in a graveyard, a cemetery, a sepulchre, feeding on dust and communing with ghosts and hallucinations. The station spoke to him. He felt the burning of electricity as it buzzed like some monstrous hornet beneath his feet, above his head, the scream of power humming louder and louder, becoming furious and derailing, shocking into his body, this living entity for the first time rearing and bucking and making all the right sorts of noises, sounds he remembered as if from a dream. The rhythmic pulse of the engines hammering, pistils and pistons churning and juddering like some great infernal heart. As it moaned and spat and fizzled, he heard the bundling clicks and hisses like a bed of serpents knotting together and the rush of electrons and the twittering natter of chirping microchips, the nearby hustle of the information superhighway bustling and shearing in droves and flocks like a trillion wild birds blackening the sky, too loud and too much and too vicious, crowing and hackling and bleating. He hyperventilated, sweat blossoming from his pores, tracking sooty dribbles through the drying blood as his nanites multiplied in uncontrollable billions. Where they dripped onto the floor they burrowed like hungry termites, seeping from his hands as they inched their way across and into and forced their way through the space between molecules and chaotically reknit them. Air got jammed in his throat. Lucian groaned, head snapping backwards, arm lurching, muscles jerking. The ground next to him exploded, a mangled technopathic conglomeration bulging up and away, twitching and roiling and folding over itself as it transformed into something unrecognisable, conflicting instructions creating mindless loops and horrifying contortions. He couldn’t think… straight, words got jumbled, thoughts like hailstones… andeverythingwastoofast, flickering like a television set with a bad signal. On his opposite side the panelling steadily collapsed, caving and buckling, trying to fit together and resolve the confusion of commands it received. His eyes rolled over in a panic, feeling utterly out of control. A bullet zipped into the exposed wiring that the expulsing nanobots had unwittingly connected him to, sending plastic and rubber and copper and sparks flying, a burnt plastic tang twisting through the thick muggy faecal stench. Lucian squealed in pain, damage transferred, bruising flushing along his arm in an angry shock of scarlet. Oh fuck, oh god, he was going to die he was going to die he was going to die he was going to… …kill them… Fury overwrote terror, and Lucian twisted, grasping at flimsily commanded technology, forcing his will into the alarmed nanobots. The innumerable cable forms jacked and sprang forth, reforming and splitting and weaving until they smashed into the uniformed lines of gun toting militia, scattering them like bowling pins, assimilating the gunnery, crumpling the platform beneath their feet until they succumbed to the flaying chords or dropped into the churning Pit and were dived upon by thrashing mutants. After a heady moment of pure adrenaline, Luc retracted the nanites, dragging a shaky breath inwards through his teeth, tasted blood, didn’t know whose it was, and didn’t care. A disorienting harn resonated across the grounds, blurring vision into doubles and bending shapes before it met with a gargled finish. Elsewhere something heaved massive wefts of russet coloured, fleshy branchlike growths, doubling walls and moving off slothlike through the helicarrier, and the sickening sound of crystallised flesh shattering squeaked and tinkled alongside what appeared to be a roaring vortex of flame and shadow. Colours twirled and flared, a set of grinning goblins dragging themselves along on severed stubs, melting and reforming into something new and more unsettling every few seconds. Fucking illusionists. Blackout’s thin lips pressed even thinner, Lucian trying to shake the fetid visions. The problems with a penned-in group of frustrated, angry, suppressed, superpowered criminals simultaneously regaining their powers were becoming glaringly apparent. A migraine burst up behind his eyes, only to gripe away in a fading dance of starspots. What next; a dancing pack of vampiric midgets with scythe claws and poison breath, summoned from a parallel dimension? Lucian didn’t particularly want to find out, even if dancing midgets sounded fucking hilarious; he’d got enough of a mind rape going on as it was-- no point in exacerbating the issue. He moved, and the twisted lumps of metal and interfaced tech moved with him, still connected, still overwhelmed, still unable to find cohesion with the newly birthed nanites and the rediscovered scream of electrical existence everywhere everywhere everywhere. Where he stepped the ship responded, eviscerated, remade with every sluggish pace, wire entrails dragging along with him as though disembowelled, like collections of nerves disentangling and threading up around his legs. An intense claustrophobia settled in his gut, and whether or not he was caught by the wayward effect of an empowered inmate lashing out, he had to get off this fucking boat. He managed to make it to the crumpled, contorted doors. He even managed to get through several corridors without incident, straining against the tide of technology begging for his attention. When he slugged his way into an empty passageway lit up all grimy fluorescent, one bulb at the far end flick flick flickering on and off, it felt like something out of a second rate horror movie. Something that definitely belonged in a bad zombie film limped in amongst the shadows, slavering and whickering, the sound of saliva splashing from its jowls lost to the thumping in Lucian’s eardrums. The creature raised its terrible head, testing the air. Lucian felt his mouth droop at the corners. |
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| Cameron Hodge | Aug 26 2009, 03:52 AM Post #52 |
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Director of SHIELD
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The place was total chaos. Zach Derant – aka Cringer – grabbed a guard by the head as one of his pals held him from behind, “Wanna see what if feels like, cocksucker? I’ll feed you your motherfucking balls after I’m fucking done with you.” The guard let out a primordial scream as he suddenly began shaking violently… as did the mutant holding him. Within seconds both collapsed to the floor in a fit of seizures; Zach stood over his captor and mutant brother alike, a mad cackle bursting from cracked, dry lips as spittle flew through the air in front of him. He drove the sole of his prison-issue shoe into the face of the guard twice before launching in the air and landing on the mutant who had been one of his best friends in the CAGE. He began jumping up and down on the torso, shaking his head madly while making gurgling noises; Zach paused in his assault, all his weight on the quivering prisoner underfoot as he bent over to look him in his unconscious face. “I told you, fucker! I told you you’re too kiss-ass to the guards. Looka where it got you, bitch! Looka-” A single shot rang through the air, and Zach collapsed to the ground on top of his victim, the top of his head completely missing – chunks of crimson-stained skull and brain matter spattered the floor. “Always hated that fucker,” the guard mumbled before getting swallowed up in the crowd of violence. “Captain… we should have been there fifteen seconds ago,” Hodge barked at the pilot as he poked his head back through. “Sorry sir. ETA is less than a minute. We should have them on radar soon.” “Your life won’t be worth more than a two-dollar whore’s if we’re late. Punch it.” Hodge turned and spoke into his comm, “Lieutenant, is Blackburn operational?” “Yes sir,” crackled over the speaker, “Blackburn is online and ready to be deployed at your command.” “Good man. You get to keep your job. Await my order.” The creature sniffed the air in front of him… no… he tasted it. Something delicious stood in front of him. With that thing inside him. That thing it hunted… fed on… craved. Head snapped down, face tentacles slowly parted just enough to show small, beady black eyes focusing on the thing in front of it. A low rumble emitted from deep within its chest… a sound that beat on your skin more than thrummed in your ears. Acidic drool slipped down the sides of the thing’s jaws and hit the floor, a faint sizzling sound accompanying every droplet as it immediately began eating away at the gunmetal floor. It took a step forward… tentative… dark, shiny eyes fixed on its next meal. That’s all this mutant was… its next set of nutrients that would only leave the creature hungering for more. It took another step as the tentacles suddenly parted more to reveal the thing’s disgusting maw, its three-sided mouth opening wide and showing two sets of razor-sharp teeth, acidic saliva hanging in ropes from the thing’s dark gray gum-like material. It let out a high-piercing shriek that ended in a menacing roar before launching itself into the air from its hind legs; face tentacles coated with acidic mucus were outstretched as the creature closed in on its prey, reaching for the man’s face. This was its twelfth meal of the day, if the thing could count or cared about such things. “Better keep showing me how useful you are, ‘cause if you don’t, I’m gonna blow your fucking head off,” a menacing voice grated out at Tina as he pressed the barrel of a glock to the back of her head. “Don’t turn around… don’t move a fucking muscle unless it’s to do what I say. Now…” he shoved the barrel of the gun into Rage’s head, making it go forward, “start talkin. Tell the rest of your shit mutie friends to stand the fuck down or I will kill you. I’m not fucking around here!” They had fallen so quickly; what was once three had been cut down to one, and without her sisters, she almost lost her way. "Hey, I'm not through with you, you fucking bitch!" Zero stopped in her pursuit of Colossus and turned to look directly at Mystique, her body language seemed to regard the risen victim as little more than an annoyance. Victim is not down. Has regained mutant abilities. Some form of regeneration. Comparable threat level six percent. Stay on target. With a shrug toward the shapeshifter, Zero pivoted and raced back toward the generator where Colossus was buried The generator… it was completely useless. The mutants had regained their abilities. The others had fallen… their objective was not accomplished. Mission failure. Improvise. Best course of action, terminate as many as possible. Zero whirled back around, unsheathing her shoto so that both blades were drawn against the shapesifter. She immediately ran at her victim with unnatural speed, leaving behind the ring that still hung in the air from the drawn blade. Hey, I'm not through with you, you fucking bitch. Unnoticed in the violence that had broken out in the generator room, a second hound had slipped through the doorway. It immediately began sniffing around, its black, beady eyes seeming to peer through people, looking for something inside of them. Several had what it needed. Fixing its eyes on the closest target, it did not hesitate… the creature bolted forward, barreling through two prison guards directly in the path between him and his next meal. Reaching jumping distance, the hound leaped in the air, its tentacles pointed forward as they spread slightly in preparation with grappling with its prey – the blue skinned shape-shifter. “Sir,” the pilot barked over the comm. Hodge immediately brought the device to his lips, “Launch Blackburn.” The Carrier jet lurched slightly as a single rocket was fired from one of the wings; within seconds, the missile slammed into the side of the helicarrier where they estimated the prison would be. Hodge looked at his watch, then out on the ground below… where he spotted the last person he wanted to see. “Shit! It’s Magneto,” the soldier standing beside him spat over the roar of the plane. “No worries, son. Within minutes, he won’t have anything to rescue, and if we get lucky… maybe it’ll get him too.” He brought his comm near his mouth, “Take us out of here. Our job is done.” Within moments, the transport was out of sight. The missile had punched through the hull and soared through the rec room, making several inmates stop in their tracks to gawk at the unexpected sight. The brief pause was followed by panic as the thing shot to the floor and skidded along the surface with a deafening crash, a furrow marking its vector. The opposite wall finally brought the thing to a halt; after several moments passed without an explosion, several of the inmates who had hit the ground and covered their heads out of fear tentatively peeked from under their arms at the rocket. Large, green plant-like tendrils had already begun shooting out of the rocket’s body and were quickly growing in size, sliding across the ground, quickly working its way around the dead prison guard that lay nearby. As soon as the plant-like substance reached within feet of its nearest prisoner, the branch shot out with unnatural speed, wrapping itself around the mutant and quickly growing in size as its victim screamed and struggled in an effort to get away. Within seconds, he was completely engulfed in the deadly tentacle’s embrace. Scores were spreading just as fast, sprouting new ones as they went along, cutting off the exits and slinking across the floor to their victims. |
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| Rage | Aug 26 2009, 05:42 AM Post #53 |
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Unregistered
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The voice and feel of the gun barrel took her by surprise. The smallest of gasps escaped her lips. “Shit.” She kept still, very still. The fire in her eyes matched her feelings. The hazel eyed girl was screwed, she knew this. But she was not going to betray her kin. He pushed his weapon forward making her head move involuntarily. He ordered her to talk, to tell the other mutants to stand down. “You fucking humans will be sorry you crossed mutants.” Her voice steady and strong. If she was to die, she would resist. She would not fail or falter. The Rage Bringer did her best. At times during her stay in CAGE she didn't think she'd made it that far. The hazel eyed girl was not going to be weak in these last moments. She wasn't going to beg or plead. Not for another moment was she going to be the humans' prisoner. Tina was going to die defiant and fighting. Especially if it helped to free fellow mutants. Mere seconds had passed when she spoke when she let her voice speak again, “Burn in hell.” She didn't know if those would be her last words. And maybe it wasn't poetic, or articulate. But there was no way she was going to kneel down for a Sapien. She would not bow to a lesser being. The Rage Bringer was considering herself free. She stood waiting for the lasting darkness. Closing her eyes and waiting for the last sound she would ever hear. A gun shot. |
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| Saint | Aug 26 2009, 10:47 AM Post #54 |
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Hypnosis / Psionic Bolts
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It stung like a bitch. Kyle was crouched down on his knees, holding his shoulder with one hand, trying to keep the blood from seeping out with one hand, avoiding the bullets firing around, his side also feeling like fire was burning across him. It wasn't the worst wounds that he had recieved but they were enough to slow him down unless he managed to slow the bleeding for a moment. He tried to rip at the prison suit to use as a short-gap bandage but his spare arm was dangling useless for the moment as even trying to lift his arm brought a sharp shock of pain. Saint had enough experience that he wasn't a sitting duck with the gun but it was too heavy to lift and aim with just one arm. Trying to pull himself up, Kyle barely noticed that the generator had gone till the wave of his powers coming back washed over him. The power, the tingle of the blades emerging from his hands, it was a joy to behold. Quickly slicing through his shirt, Kyle made a rough tourniquet for his shoulder with his free arm and his mouth, feeling the tight band of fabric slow down the blood supply of his arm. This would certainly help him a lot more than the gun would. For one thing, his arm didn't need to be reloaded. But luckily, he still had his right arm, which was his preferred for aiming. Unlucky for the guards as he shot the first one he saw through the throat with a wide blade, almost slicing the guard through the neck. Now that they had destroyed the null generator and the EMP field, Magneto would surely be there swiftly. Kyle was half wondering why Amelia hadn't teleported them in the minute after the machines had been destroyed. Maybe she was indisposed or there was something wrong. He shook his head briefly as another bullet slipped past his head and he ducked, spinning his body as he shot a slew of blades towards the shooter. Around him, the sounds of violence was briefly interrupted by the sounds of a large crashing from somwhere around the CAGE. It sounded like something had broken through a wall. It was probably the rioting prisoners Kyle thought as he tried to spot his fellow mutants in the battle. Piotr was still in the machine, Mytsique he had lost sight of, so he headed towards the door to find Rage and the few allies they had brought with them. Then he saw the woman, a guard having a gun pressed to the back of her head a short distance near the doors. Kyle aimed and flung his arm, several blades hitting the guard and sending him sprawling backwards, the gun being fired high and away from the other Brotherhood members head. "Come on Rage, we only have to hold out for a little while longer" he said as he jogged towards her, motioning for her to follow him back into the fight. The calvary would be there soon and they only had to stay alive till it arrived. However, the threats to their safety, be it guards, trained fighters, wierd octopus dogs, crazed mutants or the unknown to them giant plant, were stacking up against them by the second. |
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| Blackout | Aug 30 2009, 10:11 PM Post #55 |
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Unregistered
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All Luc could hear was the sound of his ribcage rattling, heartbeat thrumming against his bones, lungs constricted. As if to add to the tension, the spattering bulb spit its last flare, plunging the distant end into darkness. Maybe the skin of the beast glowed with a faint bioluminescence, maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him, but Lucian swore, somewhere amongst the racing spill of nothingness that packed his thoughts like cotton wool or crushed polystyrene, that its outline still smouldered in the gloam, eyes like two bright spots glowering unblinkingly. When its jaws split and it released that unearthly screech, the noise didn’t so much resonate through his ears as vibrate in his bones and curl through his innards. As though it had fired its own starting pistol, the horrible dog erupted out of the darkness like some demonic thing being vomited straight out of hell. The bundling wires quivered around Lucian’s legs, and the temperature seemed to have plummeted, his heart petrifying in terror like a gnarled twist of wood, ventricles paralytic and blood congealing in his veins as though it had turned to sludge. He couldn’t move… he couldn’t do anything except watch it… he… …heard himself scream as if disembodied, felt his legs lurch and his stomach tip upside down, watched himself half dive half fall away from the creature as it gnashed razor sharp teeth shut with a violent crunch where his head had been not nanoseconds before. It contorted impossibly, nautiloid mandibles snapping, worrying at the space between them, spine bending in ways it shouldn’t. Lucian reacted on instinct alone, too piss fucking scared to process anything coherent. Sweat soaked hands sought to activate the inanimate and beneath his touch walls crumpled, hurling chunks of transformed spires out from the curling panels until the hallway was crisscrossed by jagged poles, sparks showering and cascading in awkward lightshows. The predator dodged them all as though possessing some sort of split second precognition, reflexes fine-tuned to incalculable levels. On his rump now, scrambling backwards until he had bumped up against the end of the hall, slowed by the technology that lashed itself to his wrists and coiled up around his arms and ankles like vines, choked breaths escaped Luc in little sobs. One tendril snagged around the hound’s hind leg, slowing it, not stopping it, but as more and more technopathic creations wound and grabbed and gripped, ugly tourniquets embracing muscles and wending about limbs, it found itself overpowered. The predator strained against them with absurd strength until it was barely a few feet away from the snivelling inmate, and there it ground to a halt, whimpering in an ungodly whine, like the brakes on a train pulling, or a nearby hive of bees, or a playground full of children all simultaneously whinging. Teeth gritted, Lucian pressed himself as flat against the wall as he possibly could, felt it lose consistency and begin to buckle behind him as his nanites flushed out upon it, wrenching new technetronic branches out from it, flaying around his neck and shoulders. He twisted his head away from the furling tentacles that stretched toward him, that trembled with a tangible hunger, glistening wet and sticky and reeking of chemicals. This close, Lucian imagined he could taste the acrid fluids that drizzled south in viscous ropes, imagined himself being broken between those hidden teeth and shuddered as he tried to shrink further away from them. One of the tentacles rippled and whipped in an attempt to reach its prey; spittle spattered up across Luc’s cheek and strung over the bridge of his nose and he howled as it burnt and blistered, trying to resist the urge to swipe at it in frantic agony. The cry of pain turned into a snarl of frustration and he screamed in the creature’s face, screamed silently at the nanites that writhed along the corridor like a disordered nest of ants. The wires and metal and plastic that snarled around the canine’s body bowed and leapt forward and consumed its Lovecraftian features, forcing its jaws open, corroded even as they pushed their way down its throat, slipping against the slick surface, ulcerating and curling and fucking raping the damn thing’s face. As acidic slaver ate away at the machinations Lucian felt his skin bubbling underneath his jumpsuit in response, biting down hard on his lip until he tasted a fresh metallic swill warm his tongue, eyes stinging with pained tears. Its jaw bent too far the wrong way. An almighty snap abruptly gave out like a wet branch cracking, the hound immediately falling limp, Lucian jumping as though electrocuted. He sat there, frozen, the wall behind him still shifting in infinitesimal gradients, hastily releasing his connection with the dissolving wiring, slowly but steadily regaining his technopathic control. Still too slow. The wall wires bugled and retracted and lovingly spilled around his chest. A humourless laugh fizzled up from somewhere in his stomach, and it sounded hysterical. |
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| Sack | Sep 4 2009, 05:14 AM Post #56 |
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Unregistered
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JP with Sack, Mysti, Hodge The beast charged through the hallways, uncaring to whom its girth crashed upon. Sending bystanding bodies into the metal walls of the CAGE, the lumbering gait of the tentacle-faced creature liberated it of the bipedal limitations. Four legs crashed upon the floor, the thunderous chorus joined by the scrape of thick claws. Inmates fled as it came if they could, having seen one of the other monsters chasing the gelatinous mutant minutes ago. It had come back for its vengeance. The fused resin had seeped into the mottled, hairless skin, making the creature's hide appear almost sweaty, highlights appearing as it passed under halogen bulbs. As the beast rounded a corner, it skidded, its hindquarters wanting to keep going as its forelimbs turned it. Front-wheel drive wasn't limited to just vehicles. "Hey, I'm not through with you, you fucking bitch!" echoed down from the hallway. The lumbering gait turned into a full gallop, the beast's claws sinking into the floor. In the straight hallway, the echo of its charge would radiate as its lupine form ran, closing in on the shapeshifter and the creature with blades singing in her hands. Mystique just nodded, a smirk coming to her face as Zero-one turned and began to sprint in her direction. This was exactly what she wanted, after all. The thing was that Zero-one might be expecting the same kind of fight that she had just gotten a few moments ago. She would be sadly mistaken, if that was the truth. Not only was Mystique back to her normal mutant self, she was feeling almost heightened due to the adrenaline and anger that was coursing it's way through her veins. The Zero-one had heightened reflexes and speed? So did she, for the most part. The question to be asked was, did Zero-one have nearly 80 years of experience? The only thing that gave Mystique pause was the overwhelming sound of the beast that was coming at her from her left side. As Zero-one dashed at her, the shapeshifter glanced left to see the hound pushing its way through guards and taking a flying leap at her. Her mind could not sort out what type of beast it was, and in truth, she did not have time to. If it was simply Zero-one that was dashing at her, Mystique would have blocked or parried the attack and then countered. However, with two foes coming at her simultaneously, her only reaction could be to evade. In a marvelous display of graceful gymnastic skill, Mystique bent her legs and fell backwards. She kicked off quickly with both feet, propelling herself through the air so that she was perfectly horizontal to the floor and only about four feet in the air. As she moved out of the path of the monster and made it so that Zero-one would have to run even further to catch her, Mystique performed a tight backflip in the air and landed on her feet, quickly putting a hand on the floor to help her maintain her balance. The blue mutant slid a few feet along the ground and her eyes moved to the two... no... now three targets that were before her. A proud snarl came to her lips as she looked at the two monsters, not noticing the bluish ooze coming from one, and Zero-one. She'd fight all three if she had to. Zero caught the movement out of the corner of her eye… both, actually. Meeting the predators wasn’t supposed to happen; they were supposed to be engorging themselves one level above the Zeros and the generators they were to guard. This turn of events was very unfortunate. Reaching within swinging distance of Mystique, the mutant hunter took a swing at the woman, missing her head by inches as the target performed a series maneuvers that put her well out of reach of Zero’s sword. She could not continue pursuit of the shapeshifter and leave her back exposed to the mindless, hungry beast that was hurtling directly toward her. Leaving her to the other one bounding up behind her target, Zero flung her shoto directly at Raven before pivoting on her heels and swinging around to face the second dog, performing a few flourishes with her katana before bringing it up in a defense stance as the hound closed in. Mutant residue. This animal has fed many times. Messy eater. She took one step forward and sliced upward at the approaching hound with herwell-aimed razor sharp katana. There was no need to be clever with these creatures. They only thought of eating and little else. The second dog missed pouncing on its blue target by half a foot when Mystique tumbled across the floor; it hit the ground and skid to a halt, sharp claws grinding against the surface. He immediately turned and lunged at the shapeshifter, tentacles striking first. The first hound ignored its fellow as it pounced overhead along with the glint of a shoto, lunging at the blue mutant. Instead, the first charged forward, blindly seeking the feminine figure of the anti-mutant assassin. Those blades meant nothing to it. Without a thought, it leapt into the upward slash. Flesh tore and bones cut, warm blood splattering upwards on the ceiling as the slash passed through. The creature's shoulder bled out, the captured arteries releasing the substance of life from the body. The creature crashed, rolling along the ground as its balance was compromised. But, it did not stay on the ground. As soon as it rolled upright its legs dug into the metal and it leapt, tentacles spread as its three-sided mouth and double rows of teeth flashed towards Zero-one. Zero immediately spun on her heels sword already set in a defensive position as she cocked her head to the side, observing the slightly peculiar behavior of the hound. She had been around them enough to know exactly what to hit to incapacitate them, but this one was different. It even moved differently… slightly less fluid, maybe? She did not know. She did not care. The thing was in her way… keeping her from finishing her mission, and that was unacceptable. The thing was in mid-air, tentacles reaching for her as she ran toward it, slicing at the tentacles she reached first with unnatural speed and accuracy before jumping in the air to deliver a solid kick to the top of the thing’s head… just to the left where a small cluster of nerves was housed. Tentacles flew aside, sliced from the base of the horrid face of the hound-like creature as it hung in the air. The beast came down upon the open space the woman was in, but she was already in the air. A heel came down, crashing upon the beast's head, targetting the system of nerves just to the left of the apex of its cranium. The air radiated with the sound of foot upon skull, the head driving downwards with the attack. The beast's head ducked, unable to stop the powerful pull gravity had on the foot. Something cracked, something twisted. That something was the head. The head leaned to the side, the force of the kick driving the neck to twist in on itself, curling the spinal cord. The beast stopped for a moment, as if stunned by the blow, but in the brief silence between the beast and Zero-one, not a breath came from the beast's face. No sign of breathing could be found if the woman looked closely enough. Despite the force of the blow, the beast lifted its neck, its lopsided head opening its three-sided jaw again. With a silent roar, thick ropes of blue goop hung between the remnants of its tentacles, and the beast swiped out with its foreclaws. She landed, knowing the beast was dead. Like every movement she made, it war precise… perfect, and she had trained in how to disable the creatures in case it was necessary. They were more or less mindless beasts that sought nothing more than to sate their ravenous appetites, and that came with certain dangers. Landing in a crouch, Zero immediately began pulling herself into an upright position, repositioning the grip on her sword as she began to turn and face her blue opponent, sure that she had been struck down by the other hound, having never received proper training. However, the swipe of a claw caught the genetically engineered assassin in the chest, claws swiping at the durable suit and leaving trails where it had nearly torn the body armor completely off. It was already sizzling, tendrils of smoke coming off the armor as Zero staggered back a few feet, looking down at her half-exposed chest, then at the dog before her, its maw gaping as a blue substance hung off its jaws. Her skin was on fire, and the chemical reaction eating away at her tissue was beginning to spread, but she completely put it aside, compartmentalizing it as she began spinning her blade in a series of impressive arcs that made the metal dance, humming a single note through the air as she closed in on the creature. Her mission was a failure… she only had minutes to live… she would do as much damage as she could before her body began shutting down. The whirling fury of the metal blade sang in front of the beast. It was intimidating, to be sure, but the crooked head of the hound barely twitched. Instead, as its claws returned to the metal floor beneath it, the beast began to back up, wary of the blades. Its faced curled in a quiet, snarl, glazed-over eyes watching the blade. As its brother continued its assault on the blue woman just out of reach, this hound continued its battle with the assassin. It backed up in fear, feet shuffling and scraping the ground. The blade sang in the air, its end slicing close, daring the beast to stop moving and enter the strike zone. The mangy hound then found its backside pressed into a wall -- it had no choice. Tensing its hindquarters, the beast leapt again, ignorant to the true damage that flying sword was going to cause. The blade caught the creature’s foreleg, slicing the limb off as if it were passing through water; it came up again and caught the dog in its stomach, the blade slipping deep into its midsection and directly into the thing’s spine, delivering a blow that the creature couldn’t hope to walk away from… it wasn’t made to withstand having its spinal cord severed. Zero let go of the hilt and immediately reached for one of the grenades attached to her chest harness, activating it as she closed the eyes hidden behind the mask. The tentacles – those left attached caused her to disappear from view as she upper body was met by the hound’s jowls. She would die, but the creature would never live to taste another morsel. There was a change of control, where the beast's backside collapsed into disuse. Its hindquarters went limp, sagged, and collapsed upon the ground. The beast appeared to panick, foreclaws scrambling as the pin was pooled and -- Body parts flew as a concussive wave of sound radiated down the hallways, the echoing sound no doubt reaching the inner depths of the whole CAGE. The exploding grenade sent bodyparts every which way -- up, down, left, right, all around. There was no place that the explosion did not touch with festering meat. Fleshy substances coated the walls, organs hanging from the rafters and doorknobs. Chunks littered the floor, blood splatter painted the wall, intestinal waste cooked in the explosion released a horrible smell. Zero and the beast had been killed. But with the blood came the substance that hung from the hound's mouth. After the explosion, which still steamed from the inner heat of the bodies that were sent in all direction, the whole area began to stir, minute globs of blue flesh jiggling. Like thousands of slugs, the goo slithered through the terrain of flesh, coming together again as a gigantic blob. It deformed, reformed, imploded and molded, building together until a skeleton was visible. Features formed, a head and skull growing out of the shoulders. An eye bubbled into existance, purple hair sprouting from the barren scalp. Another eye grew from the bone, and the protoplasmic humanoid solidified its skin. Sack smiled, looking around, his body suddenly racked with a sensation. It was so exhilerating, so full, so wonderous! His elation exploded, almost weeping, and he started to laugh until his body shook with it. Stark naked amongst mounds of flesh and blood, his own substance was stained almost purple with the blood his body gathered as it reformed. The first laugh -- the first cry. Nearby, the assassin's blade lay strewn with blood. Barely able to control himself, Sack's quivering hand reached out and grabbed the hilt of the blade, claiming it as his own. Completely ignoring Mystique's condition ('cause honestly, Sack didn't really want to be eaten again) Sack's raving laughter followed him as he began to move through the hallway, bloodstained footprints marking his path. |
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| Magneto (old) | Sep 5 2009, 11:58 PM Post #57 |
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Magnokinesis / Flight
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Magneto was a patient man… a brilliant strategist and problem-solver, not only knowing how to win a battle, but how to win it in a way that gave sent the greatest message to his enemy, which is probably the biggest reason he was the most wanted man on the planet. He didn’t just kill thousands… he did it in such a way that most could be considered bloody works of art. Leonardo… Bach… Raphael… Carpaccio… Lensherr. He created masterpieces of destruction and death – a testament to the strong brushing aside the weak to take their birthright. The Breakout from CAGE was one of those masterful works. Rending the ship into pieces wasn’t enough; murdering the guards with flying bits of metal wasn’t justice. They had to look into the eyes of the vicious of mutantkind as their windpipes were crushed with telekinesis… their bodies shattered under the powerful blows of the supernaturally strong. Every weak human crushed, torn, and murdered for playing a part in the oppression of homo superior. And Magneto smiled coldly as his mind’s eye bore witness to the events; imagination never spoke with so much truth. He was a proud father watching his children take what belonged to them by force. But playtime in the sandbox was over. Erik raised a hand, and the screeching of tearing metal filled the air as the hellicarrier shuddered and began to split into four or five different pieces. At the same time, he forced it into a descent, fast enough so that it wouldn’t take forever, but not so fast that none of the mutants inside would be unable to survive the impact. As the bottom of the ship crashed into the floor of the Nevada dessert, sand erupted around it, sending rough brown granules hundreds of feet into the air… nearly blanketing the entire transport in a tidal wave of grit. The dusty shockwave caused Magneto’s dark red cape to whip around wildly. He worked tendrils of magnetic energy into the material of the prison, ripping it apart even further… tearing, unfolding, flattening. Prisoners and guards alike began to spill out of any opening they could find, some crawling while others ran and stumbled, bleeding and limping from the shock of the devastation. “Gentlemen,” Magneto said to those around him, “I believe our brothers could use some assistance.” |
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| Pyro | Sep 7 2009, 04:01 PM Post #58 |
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Pyrokinesis/Fiery Puns
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Still held in the magnetic field the leader of the Brotherhood had, St. John was getting antsy. He wasn't exactly someone who liked heights, and his stomach was getting increasingly more queasy over the fact that they were hanging a few hundred feet in the air. Unlike Magneto, who was distracted with the onslaught going on within the floating prison, Pyro was unoccupied. Thoughts of falling all the way to the desert floor were plaguing his mind. At least it sparked an interest in rockets. Honestly, that was all he would be able to do to try to save himself if Magneto abdandoned him in the middle of the air. Despite knowing Magneto wouldn't be so careless, the thought was still there. Maybe if his constructs could pick up things, they could carry him? He'd have to try it some day... Finally, something pulled his attention away from the desert below. In front of them, Magneto was going to work. Pyro watched as the whole thing began to descend, casting a gigantic shadow over the barren desert of Nevada. It fell in slow motion, so it was damn cool to watch when it finally hit the ground. Metal crumpled and visible waves of stress passed over the airship as dust and debris went flying. Hopefully this wouldn't cover up his little treat. Bringing them to the ground (finally), Pyro touched the surface and found himself again on mother earth. Fighting away the urge to cough and hack as debris was still floating in the air, St. John watched through the dust as people began pulling themselves out of the wreakage, bloodied and bruised. Grinning, Pyro flicked on his lighter. "You think the place has a fuel tank?" he questioned, if anything, himself. If it did... this place was going to become a nuke. Sneering cruelly he approached the first of the living guards and baptized him in fire. |
[align=center]![]() Olga gets credit for the cinders and gifness.[/align] | |
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| Rage | Sep 7 2009, 05:52 PM Post #59 |
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Unregistered
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She took what she thought was going to be the last inhale of air she would ever take Rage was pleasantly surprised to find that the next sound she heard was a thud to the ground. Opening her eyes and directing her gaze to the sound, it was the guard, with blades sticking out. Looking over to the origin and smiling it was Saint. She nodded to his statement and followed. The hazel eyed girl followed behind him. Breathing out the incident that happened moments before. Rage turned the corner behind Saint and saw something that she had to stop and stare at. She took a ragged breath and whispered, “Saint...” Hopefully where she was staring would direct his eyes to what she was looking at. “What is that?” The vines off at the end on the hall wrapping around a bulky mass. Even with how far away they were, whatever it was, she could see it was not good. The vines whipped and lashed about and quickly made their way to where the two Brotherhood members stood. Rage pushed her team mate through a door and was quick to close the it behind them. Groaning in pain, pushing her team mate through and closing the door hurt the injuries she received from the abomination of a beast. She held her back against the door to brace it. Holding both of her arms as the vines pounded against the door, begging to come through. To wrap themselves around them and squeeze until there was no more breathe in them left. Rage's arms were stinging more and more, unprotected from bandages. Suddenly everything felt like it was falling. That they were falling, her feet levitated off the ground as everything was falling, but it wasn't long afterwards that the fall was stopped with the inevitable crash. Rage fell to the ground and tried to keep the door braced until the Acolyte came up with an escape plan. |
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| Sack | Sep 8 2009, 02:40 AM Post #60 |
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Unregistered
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JP Between Sack and Zeitgeist Axel moved onward, still looking for his comrade. Somehow he had gotten turned around and ended up back in the hall. He searched for anyone else, ducking guards and other obstacles. Turning the corner the inmate found himself in a lengthy hallway. Looking back and forth to determine which way to go. Laughter followed Sack. Laughter made others know where he was. It was laughter that alarmed mutants and guards alike that something was coming. But it was not laughter that changed the entire face of the world that they, the prisoners of the mutant prison CAGE, knew. Metal of the ship rended, screws twirling out of their sockets. Walls began to disappear, replaced by the insides of rooms. Doors collapsed. Vents rattled and shrunk. Despite this -- and the sensation of the world falling -- Sack's maniacle laughter continued as he went buckwild in the hallways with a sword in his hand. A nearby guard was not the luckiest of all men. As he, and Sack, crashed into one of the walls as CAGE ripped, a few feral swings of the stolen blade sent the guard into agony and defeat. Tremors of unparalleled feeling shook the entire CAGE as its massive weight fell upon the desert sands of Nevada like a great whale crashing upon the sea, only this whale did not continue down. Outside and soon in, gusts of sand and earth rushed, filling in the openings of the broken CAGE with clouds of debris. When Sack recovered from the fall, flickering lights barely outlined the nearby area. A body lay upon him, that of the guard he killed. Shrugging it off, he found the man difficult to move, and with a glance down as broken lights flickered, he saw the very sword he had used sticking out of his chest. With a wince and a pained groan he removed it, the wound soon closing up as protoplasmic tendrils glued the opening shut. Grabbing the appropriate end of the sword and pulling himself up to a standing -- leaning position, as the roof had collapsed so much that even Sack was forced to shorten himself, he began to move again, his mad grin still holding. Suddenly his stomach had that sinking feeling one would get from falling. He lost his balance as he tried to hold on to the sides, but failing to keep grounded. Once everything stopped dropping to the ground. Zeitgeist landed on his back. Giving a wince and rubbing his the back of his shaven head he stood up hitting his head on the shortened ceiling. Bending at the waist he went for the area down the hall for more head room. Standing more upright when he was able to Axel wondered if he was the only one left, and what the hell had just happened. Then the laughter came. Zeitgeist heard the mad laughter not too far off and followed it. He turned the corner to see the mass of blue holding a sword, of all things, laughing like crazy. Squinting at the mass of blue it was suddenly recognizable as to who it was. “Sack?” He would have thought that the blue gooey coward would have escaped by then, and just how the hell did he get a sword. Sack's feet dug into the metal flooring, his naked, gelatinous body shifting visibly on his skeleton as he came to a stop. Looking over his shoulder with the biggest of smiles, the yellow and violet eyed mutant set an eye on the man. As he saw who it was, his hold on the blade tightened. He didn't loose a millimeter of his smile. Teeth flashing ear to ear, he might as well have cut the ooze off the lower half of his face. "Hey there, white boy," he said, almost quivering with exhileration. He turned slowly, a hiss of supressed laughter escaping the gap between his teeth. The blade in Sack's hands made him at unease. He looked crazed with the wide smile and the laughter through his teeth. He couldn't take a blade, not unless he thought he could muddle up the vomit again. Axel didn't have anything left in his stomach to gather for that. He took a small step back, this was not one of the people he was hoping to run into. Hoping to distract him to something better he spoke again, “Did you find a way out?” He had the upper hand and didn't want to agitate him. "A way out? Who wants to get out, white boy? You want to go find s'more basketballs and juggle them between your legs? Get some new gangsta shorts? Kek! Why would would I find a way out? There's so much fun in here." Sack snickered, taking a step forward. Glaring at him he saw that the blue goo was stepping towards him. “You wanna stay here? Fine. I'm getting the fuck out of here. You can stay here, I'm gonna walk outta here free.” Going back to the corner he turned from and headed down the hall for another way out a quickly as he could. He shouldn't be able to catch up. There was too much shit falling around them. He was sure there was a way out not too far from where he was. And being so close to Sack made him very uncomfortable. Running was the only option that seemed best. "Hey?! Where are you going? Hold off masturbating for the last time and come back, white boy!" Sack cackled, not willing to abandon the other mutant so pointlessly here. Given that Sack had a relatively better height advantage with the ceiling caved in a bit, it wasn't long before he was gaining ground on the other mutant. "Why don't you stop, commie? Why don't you just wait for me? What's wrong? Afraid? Afraid of little me? I can't do anything, you know. That's why I get other people to do things for me. How's your kidney, pretty boy?" Axel wasn't going to stop for Sack, his jeers and jaunts about him being afriad rolled off his back. Until... he asked about his kidney. He stopped dead in his tracks and got angry. Turning to face him Zeit shouted back. “You? The riot... that was you or your fucking gangs' doing?” His blood felt like it was boiling. “You piece of shit...I'll kill you.” He picked up a beam and headed toward the blue gooey bastard. Even as Axel reached for the beam, Sack chattered on. "Kek! I'm suprised you idiots didn't notice either. We didn't get involve for a reason. You Sayans are too busy preaching your commie propaganda to the fresh meat that you forgot to remember you had enemies. It was me who ordered the hit, big dick." Clenching his teeth together Sack knew exactly how to push Axel's buttons. And it was working to his advantage. He walked a quicker step to him and reared back the beam to swing into the inmate. “Son of a bitch!” Zeit the hands tha theld the beam fly toward Sack. The beam came and hit. Sack barely had time to dodge the attack, and even though he could have at least ducked, he didn't even achieve that. The brute force of the blow sent Sack's body into one of the walls, his protoplasmic form spreading out some with the impact. Yet still, he held onto the sword. Sack knew his abilities -- a stick wasn't going to harm him. Peeling himself off of the wall like one of those sticky hands you paid a quarter to get, the side of Sack's face reformed from where Axel had delivered the blow. "C'mon, Colonel Shrapnel, you're gonna have to do better than that if you really want those Walmart shorts." His taunts were becoming words that escaped his ears. The smack of the goo to the wall was a very satisfying sound. Too bad it didn't hurt him. Glaring at him he felt his stomach gurgle and churn. The blue sack of goo would hopefully be hurt by acid. Feeling the horrible sensation of what was coming Axel spat out a green fluid once again. Directly on Sack. Sack's mocking face fell into horror as Axel revealed his mutation. From the depths of Axel's belly, a horribly coorosive bile was heaved. The projectile vomit crashed upon Sack, his skin instantly sizzling as it covered his face and shoulders. He could feel the acid burn away at his flesh, wearing away the protoplasmic layer of his pretty mug. The bath was a horrible experience, and as he felt his eyes begin to melt away he tried to scream, but the acid surged into his mouth, choking him. Sack struggled, his features disappearing, his purple hair disappearing rapidly. He tried stopping it with his hands, but the ooze there disappeared, leaving his bones to endure the pain. Trying to resist, the sword's hilt and part of its blade began to wear away. Then Sack's arms fell and his body sagged. Seeing him in pain, was giving Zeitgeist not only satisfaction, but relief. Smirking at him he spat out the extra vomit in his mouth to the side. He got revenge enough. Walking past Sack he said, “Burn in hell, motherfucker.” He should have watched Sack melt and sizzle to nothing but he had seen enough. He had seen one persons' face melted away, that last time haunted him and woke him up in the middle of the night. It was an accident, his powers came to be and Axel never intended to hurt the girl that he was with at the time. Even to this day he couldn't remember her name. Shrugging that off he would leave Sack in agony. Turning his back to the gelatinous mass he started off to look for a way out yet again. Hoping to leave Sack where he was and not have him follow in his memories. The skeletal body of the blue mutant remained pinned against the wall, the coorosive acids eating away at the metal wall behind him. The fleshless skull hung to the side, the smokey remnants of the acidic bile Zeitgeist expelled on him. His sin sizzled, filling the cooridoor with a stench that threatened to make some vomit. Fleshless, faceless, and still, the heap of bones and goo sat limply. Until a yellow eye popped into existance in one of the empty sockets, glaring lidlessly down the hallway at Zeitgeist's back. The protoplasm from his lower body began to reach up, winding through ribs and stitching through bone. The remaning ooze on the backside of his arms began to spread out, covering the bones of his hands, covering up the sizzling bone. Plasm hardened and replaced the worn bone as it covered it, healing and regenerating Sack's limbs to operation. He did not sit still long enough for his face to be covered again. Reaching to the side, he grabbed the cooroded blade of the sword and, letting his ooze absorb the sound of his movements, stalked after the Sayan. With Sack gone and out of the way he was still pissed that he was responsible for his injuries at the riot a while back. But with him dead now it didn't matter, Axel wondered if he should tell Piotr, his best friend in the hell hole known as CAGE, what had happened. His friend would talk about that school he went to, it didn't sound like a place for him because he did hurt people and killed Sack. But maybe it wouldn't hurt to try. New, fresh start a chance to start from scratch. He saw an opening down the way and walked to it. He could smell the fresh air. Axel was so close, so very close. The grim, faceless mutant stalked after Zeitgeist, holding the weapon in his hand tight. He could see the light of an outside world shining upon Zeitgeist as they both walked towards freedom. But the freedom Zeitgeist was walking to was not the same as Sack's. Zeitgeist could smell the fresh air, but Sack could taste it with an affirmed knowledge... He would not share that air with Axel! This weak, human-like mutant! How dare he even come to this place! He like the rest of those Sayans, those derranged LD50s, they were not fit to live in the world that was supposed to be ruled by the true new species! Mutants like Sack, mutants like Vessel! The mutants who stood for what they were, who lived with the scars and the features that humans hated most. Axel would not share the life that was meant to be Sack's! "KYAAAAH!" Sack's voice finally projected as he came within feet of Axel, ooze filling his neck and throat in, allowing him to speed again. He leapt, taking to the air, and came upon Zeitgeist's back, clinging like a toddler would to his father. And with the cooroded blade, he stabbed. Before he could put together any sort of reaction the blade was already through. He groaned, lowering his eyebrows. What... had just happened? There was fresh air, then pain. A lot of pain. Something on his back, it was blue. Sack? No, it couldn't have been. The blade was jagged from the acidic vomit he spewed earlier. He felt his legs get weaker, the warm blood gushed down from the wound. Axel felt this was different, he knew it was. There was no getting better from the injury. The weight from Sack on his back, and how weak he was quickly feeling, Zeitgeist fell to his knees. Groaning as his did. He coughed out a small pool of blood. There was no right words to say for what had just happened. Axel was pretty damn sure Sack knew what he was doing. Hot blood passed over his hand clutching the knife, seeping from the wound he just made. Holding an arm around Axel's neck to keep himself from falling, even as Axel did, Sack plunged the knife in over, and over, and over again. Driving the jagged and crooked blade into the flesh of the Sayan's chest, it plunged, tearing through rips and puncturing vital organs. Blood splattered against the walls with every pull of the blade, until he was sure that there would be absolutely no recovering from the wound. That, in Sack's mind, meant that a total of 13 openings into Zeitgeist's body had to be opened. Aiming for nothing in particular, some hit bone and some struck empty meat. Frenzied, Sack gave a mad cackle, pulling his arm off of Zeitgeist and standing on his two feet again. He laughed as blood came out of Zeitgeist's mouth instead of acid. "This is too good! Just too good!" A horrible pleasure consumed him as he walked in front of Zeitgeist, standing above him. Tendrils of ooze stilled rose from his throat and began to reform his features. The skeletal face of the mutant smiled down at Sayan on his knees. "I tried to get you killed once but the bitch I sent after you sucked too much cock. Doing things myself always seemed to work out fine," he said, lifting his arms in a careless shrug as Zeitgeist bled. "I'm suprised 8-inch never told you about the conversation in the showers... or the bigger Sayan. You can't kill me, bitch!" He felt it all. Sack's arm around his neck, the initial stab, then the next, and the next, thirteen stabs. Each beign accompanied with a groan or scream of pain. Sack finally stopped, and let go of him. He fell to the ground. Choking and gurgling with the blood in his mouth, his throat, filling his lungs. Axel was starting to feel, on top of the pain, cold. Sack spoke to him saying that he couldn't be killed. He struggled to breathe, but he had to try to keep living for a little while longer. The blood leaked everywhere around him. Fuck... it wasn't suppose to end like this. He was suppose to be free, start over. He should have just ran. Axel should never have lost his temper. If he didn't, maybe he would have still been living. Zeitgeist looked up at Sack, the color was leaving his face. It wouldn't be too much longer. He couldn't muster up energy to move, but he could talk. “One day... you will.” He coughed out more blood and finished, the last words he would say to Sack but not the last words he would say before he died, and in a weak voice, “And then I'll see you... in Hell.” He continued to breathe as he finished his words. His dying words he would save, he just hoped Piotr would be in time to hear them. It was a long shot, but that last glimmer of hope was all he had left. To see his friend one last time. It meant more to him then freedom. "Hm. I'm sorry, little boy, I didn't hear you. Did I hear you say 'see you in Hell'? Nah... We won't be seeing eachother. You're going to human hell, I'm going to mutant heaven! But don't worry... I'll let everyone know you died for me. Your name will live on as 'that one guy who saved Sack'. Kek. No one will even remember your name... But, you should be thankful it was me who killed you. I could've just, you know, slit your throat," Sack shrugged carelessly, then looked down the hall they had come. "Then you couldn't gurgle." A river of vines was beginning to creep down the hallway; in it, he could see the body of another hound. As Sack's face finally reformed, he grinned with his protoplasmic features. "You know, I think we finally liked eachother in the end, white boy. I'm glad we shared something. Think of it as a going away present... I think you'd like that, Commie," he sneered, lifting the cooroded blade. "I shared my pleasure." As blood dribbled from Zeitgeist's mouth, Sack gave him a final smile and abandoned the bleeding man to the fates, slithering through the last few hallways until the light of freedom penetrated to the bones. |
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7:21 PM Jul 11