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| Another Kind of Heroism; [open] | |
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| Topic Started: Aug 31 2012, 11:38 PM (261 Views) | |
| Plastic | Aug 31 2012, 11:38 PM Post #1 |
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Bio-plastic Life Form/Polymer Manipulation
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Time: After the fighting started Date: 28th May For a moment Luce couldn't believe what she was seeing. The next, she was running down the street as fast as she could, but she'd lost sight of the battle going on above her before she could make out who it was. The fact that it was happening at all made her laugh out loud with excitement. Finally someone was moving against the Skrull. If she could get up there... but she couldn't. If the fighting ended up the streets she would throw herself into it. Otherwise she could only root for those resisting - She'd thought she was the only one who didn't have their head on backwards. Until now. Luce headed back to Mutant Town without thinking. She'd been hiding there, out of sight, hoping for some kind of news. Of something. Anything. So far it had been without any luck on her end, all she heard was praise of the Skrull. She was certain - she hoped - that someone there would know what was going on there now that shit was going down. And how she could help. What she found was some kind of mob - there were a lot of angry mutants. Apparently someone tried to rile them up against their alien overlords. Someone who had then fled when they realized they'd failed. She got away from them before they realized she wasn't a devout follower of the Skrull. Whatever was happening it was really chaotic. Whether it would be successful was beyond her. But it was something... Once away from the mob, she saw something that left her stunned, standing in the street. Then she ran as fast as she could, and grabbed a blond young man roughly by the arm, tugging him to his feet. Was it - "Kel!" she cried, letting go of his arm only to punch him in the same spot. "The hell is going on?!" She looked down at the youth she'd pulled him from on the ground. Unconscious, injured, and it was obvious that her brother had been trying to bandage his wounds before she'd come blundering over. She grimaced, knowing she ought to apologize. "What does it look like," Kel muttered in response, quickly kneeling again to tie the bandages properly, and put pressure on the wound. The bleeding was starting to slow down, at least. The problem with his plan, of tending the wounded of this ongoing fight was it was spread across the city - and keeping the injured complacent from returning to the fight. He couldn't be sure if Luce was complacent or not, and he couldn't deal with fighting her when there were injured people that needed to be tended to. "Well," she responded in a subdued voice, "The world has been taken over by green aliens who are controlling everyone, except its not working on everyone, and people are finally starting to fight back. You're not fighting." He looked up at her sharply, before relief sank in. So she wasn't complacent somehow. "We're fighting back, and a lot of the people we're fighting is our own people under mind control. We're going to be in bad shape after this. I'm trying to keep people from going from injured to deceased before the fights over." He kept his voice low. Hopefully she'd take her cue from him. "How can you find anyone else if you're busy looking after -" she paused halfway through her sentence as her brother's face tensed. Oh apparently that was a problem he hadn't figured out. She grimaced. She'd hoped he'd point her to the fighting, but... "Need a hand with that? I can totally help with that. Make my own stretchers and keep them from struggling and everything." She grinned at the relief on her brother's face. After a few moments he gave her the coordinates of a fallen fighter he'd heard on the comm, and - after he translated that to actual directions she could understand she darted off. |
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| Monet St. Croix | Sep 5 2012, 02:36 PM Post #2 |
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Unregistered
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A furious streak of red and black zoomed low to the ground, decidedly dodging frightened pedestrians and intense skirmishes. As if given by divine rite, Monet St. Croix was on a mission. Despite the chaos raging all around her, she remained utterly impartial, not stopping to help or save anyone as the war waged. They were probably all Skrull adoring zombies anyway, and she didn't have any patience left for that shit. The world was going to hell in a hand basket and there was little she could do about it at this point, but there was one loose end in particular she was more than willing to tie up before the fat lady took her curtain call. When she allowed herself to dwell on such…unpleasantness, it was difficult to believe that only a little over forty hours had passed since Jamie was murdered in her apartment. The past couple of days, however, had not been kind to her. Her usual standard of near compulsive perfection departed and left her with dirty and messy hair, torn clothes, make-up streaked face, and an abominable attitude. But her complete and total distrust of absolutely everyone, and an obsessive need to locate and exterminate every creature responsible for her boss' death kept her from doing anything about it. The feeling, as one might imagine, was completely isolating…but nothing the heiress wasn't already used to. Nevertheless, her perseverance (as usual) proved effective – lethal, even. The repugnant hag wearing the skin of quite possibly the only person living in the X-Factor brownstone who didn’t actively annoy Monet, O'Shi its name was, was the first to be crossed off her list. During the struggle, however, Guido and Jamie's diabolical doppelgangers managed to disappear (and if she were being honest, there would have been no defeating them altogether at any rate). And with that, the tireless manhunt began. It was often easy to underestimate her, Monet found. Perhaps it was her looks, or her pampered upbringing, or maybe even her glacial demeanor – or more likely – a healthy combination of all three. Either way, those who didn't know her well always seemed to expect little from M. This never bothered her, of course, since it was a failing on their part that she could easily exploit of need be. As a little girl, she'd learned that no matter what she did, people would assign her a role (usually that of the spoiled and incompetent heiress or the stone cold bitch and/or slut), but their perceptions were worthless. In reality, she had a powerful intellect and uncanny senses; tools she could and would employ to track down and destroy her target. The investigation took longer than she could appreciate, however, even though the results it yielded were better than she could have asked for. After taking care of that ogress O'Shi, Monet expected the remaining two imposters would be long gone; probably back on the mothership suckling 'Her' teat…whoever 'She' was. Had they behaved as expected, there would have been no reaching them, but for whatever reason, they stayed on ground. The more she thought and ruminated on the subject, the more Monet believed they were too frightened to return to the fold. O'Shi did divulge vital information, after all; though a fat lot of good that did Jamie. Even so, M suspected the Queen bitch in the sky would appreciate such leaks, even by proxy. And with everyone in the city, possibly the world, sipping on the crazy Skrull juice, going to ground must have been easy. But in the end, their reasoning was inconsequential, since it all came down to one thing. Vengeance. And she was getting close. Ironically, all the clues and Monet's nose lead her back to Mutant Town…again. Perhaps this creature was beginning to feel at home here, but who knew? The streets were filled with angry mutants, but she ignored them, narrowly missing their raised fists (paws and tentacles in some cases) as she flew overhead. With one last dizzying hairpin turn, she stopped abruptly and hung in the middle of the road, her keen eyes narrowed against the billowing smoke. Mutant Town was positively turbid, and several fires blazed nearby, causing Monet to wonder why they even insisted upon rebuilding the damned cesspit time and time again. But she pushed all of the distractions out of mind, choosing instead to drink in her environment. Directly below her, a blond boy crouched over an injured person as he skillfully dressed their wounds while the crowd further up the street subdued a small contingent of what looked like rebels. Which side was which was unclear, however, and unimportant. Smiling triumphantly, she slowly turned in midair and ghosted down the nearby alleyway. "There are eight million drones living in this city, horrendous lizard-people notwithstanding, yet your stench is by far the foulest." She said, as she tapped the side of her nose with a chipped forefinger. "What are you, hiding? Looks like your lot have made a fine mess of things, 'Guido'." |
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| Strong Guy | Sep 6 2012, 10:51 AM Post #3 |
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Unregistered
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With the world under their thumb, the Skrull named Phlanz had no need to exercise his vast strength. There was mild resistance being reported in various parts of the city, but with the host of Skrull combatants they had deployed he saw the whole thing as petty and futile. Honestly it was somewhat of a shame. When he had been able to unleash some of his strength on those who lived at X-F Investigations it had been liberating. There was a reservoir of raw power inside of him and unleashing it was liberating. But he had new marching orders. In Central Park the ship was under attack by what he could only assume was the fabled X-Men come out of hiding. There were plenty of people that they had under their explicit control who could take care of these things, but the one thing Phlanz had learned while living with these wretched creatures was that you should never underestimate them. Massive fists balled at his sides he moved down an back alley, zoning in on the area of Central Park which was still some distance away. He caught sight of something overhead and when his eyes focused on the lithe beauty sailing down toward him with the trademark scowl on her face he actually smirked. She landed near him and he wasn’t honestly sure what to expect. It had not been too long ago that they had scuffled in her apartment. She would remember that as well as she would remember seeing her former boss and housemate Jamie Madrox bleed out all over her bedroom carpet. But by his estimation one thing should have changed by this time. Complacency Wave. Giving her one cautiously apprehensive look, he thought it was safe to assume she was no longer a threat and just slipped into character. Backing away from her jabbing finger, he looked at her with mock surprise. “Me? You tryin’ to pin all this on me? I didn’t start this fight.” Normally the Complacent were not so in your face. But having spent a fair amount of time with this one he was pretty sure this was just part of her quirky personality. Still, he was prepared. There were some that had managed to elude the effects of the Wave. Knowing the telepathic nature of her powers, he eyeballed her warily. “You up for a scrap in the Park?” |
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7:31 PM Jul 11