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| A Man's Home is his Catacomb; Tag: Emma, Elixir, others PM to join | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 11 2017, 09:39 PM (144 Views) | |
| Baron Mordo | Jul 11 2017, 09:39 PM Post #1 |
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Not the Sorcerer Supreme
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Where: A New York luxury apartment building When: June 24th, mid-afternoon (Background) Mordo stepped out of the corporate limousine the real-estate company had sent for him, and into the stultifying heat of a mid-Manhattan summer without a pause, waving away the meaningless apologies and explanations from the lackey accompanying him... something about construction on the garage being temporary and how traffic was being artificially slowed by some kind of major public event. "...under normal circumstances it's just fifteen minutes from --" The man's voice cut off as Mordo stepped through the glass revolving doors, pleased by the silence... brief though it was. Silence, he'd found, was a rare commodity in the West. The pragmatics of being away from his own land precluded dealing with such annoyances the way he would prefer, but that didn't mean he had to listen. He didn't care in the slightest about the traffic or the garage; he had no intention of departing from or arriving at this building by such conventional means ever again. Nor did he care about the building security or the various amenities it sported. He did not need their health club or four-star restaurant or whatever other services they were happy to procure for their tenants. He didn't need them at all. What he needed, what had driven him to reach out to these benighted capitalists in the first place, was access to the penthouse apartment, which his divinations had identified as a point of confluence of several of the major ley lines that ran through the heart of Manhattan, likely the best available site for him to establish a sanctum here. Which, given how much of his work involved interacting with Americans now, was an indispensible need: he needed a place where he could do longer workings uninterrupted, without returning to Romania. The real-estate agents had been more than happy to work with him... apparently their former tenant had mysteriously vanished recently. Tragic, Mordo agreed. Most tragic. But convenient for him, certainly. A few signatures and exchanges of bank account details and he was ready to take occupancy. The apartment itself was characterless, as he'd come to expect from modern architecture, designed for a parade of interchangeable tenants who would never put down roots here. But Mordo saw beneath the surface, to the conduits of the Astral Realm that ran through the room. With the relieved smile of a desert traveller sinking into an oasis, he reached out with an ethereal hand to wrap a cord of power around his wrist, taste its nature. That's when the unexpected price revealed itself. Mordo wasn't exactly surprised that there was a price -- there always was -- but its specific nature was unexpected. He identified the manifesting figure as a guardian revenant as it materialized and charged him; he hastily summoned a magical shield to block its swinging axe. The shield shattered, instead, but deflected the swing enough that he was able to dodge it. He riposted with a magical blast that sent the creature flying out the glass wall of the penthouse; three words in the Minoan tongue (that modern linguists had dubbed Linear A when they "rediscovered" a language that had never been lost to the wise in the first place) allowed Mordo to safely step out after it. Better to deal with the threat in the street than his own home, after all. As he plummeted to the ground, he reviewed what he knew about the creature. A magical construct woven around a corpse, what the unlearned termed "undead" or "zombies", revenants preserved much of the physical skill their bodies had possessed in life. Judging from the speed and strength with which this one had attacked, it had been a skilled fighter and remained so now, its strength no doubt greatly augmented by the magic that animated it. The axe was clearly enchanted, and as a magical construct the revenant was immune to most forms of energetic attack. It will require enough physical force to overwhelm its defenses, he decided, which -- His thinking was interrupted by a resounding CRASH as the revenant hit the ground hard after a fall of approximately two hundred meters, and got back up to its feet and roared defiance amidst a rain of shattered glass shards. ...will not be easy, Mordo decided. He plummeted to the ground much as the revenant had, but the spell he'd invoked bled away his speed the instant his feet touched ground, allowing him to land lightly... just in time to face a second charge. All around them, people screamed and ran, except for the unlucky ones who'd been hit by glass shards. They lay on the sidewalk, bleeding. Meanwhile, drivers avoiding what they'd at first considered an explosion tried to avoid crashing into one another, mostly unsuccessfully. |
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| Elixir | Aug 11 2017, 03:23 AM Post #2 |
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Doctor Doctor
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“Watch where you’re going, you loon!” Josh was basically deaf to the sound of crazy, angry, drivers of New York. While living in the city for his PhD, he’d developed an invisible armor to repel the yells and, insults, and swearing hurled his way as he raced down bike lanes in the sweltering summer heat. At first he’d been nervous to bike in the streets of New York. The healer in him saw the dangers, the pacifist in him saw a pit of chaos filled with egos and road rage, ready to be struck by the slightest infraction. It was a short lived concern. Now biking was when he felt most invulnerable. He felt like Pietro, Magneto’s son, blood racing, heart thumping, sweat pouring, and the world whizzing by as his brain and attention darted from one scene to the next. He loved it; his lightweight bike had become his preferred method of summer travel. Sun on the back of his neck and legs (not that he needed a tan), wind in his face, and the feeling of the bike quaking as he hit the pedals hard, shooting around corners and down hills. “How dare I use the bike lane?” Josh shouted back sarcastically as he raised a hand waving regally, and turned his head to pass on a carefree smile to the offending driver. He used the same hand to flick sweat from his brow. Josh had been running errands in the city all morning via his preferred method of transportation and, finally, they were completed. He’d worked up an appetite. Enough so that, when his bike was temporarily held by the private car Emma was riding in, that he was rather enthused to have been invited to lunch with the Blonde telepath. Who was he to turn her down? He was in a sweaty soccer jersey and jeans rolled up to his shins and yet she still invited him to spend a meal in the city with her. Score! Emma had given him the address of an apartment she was viewing and instructed him to meet her there and he was only a few more city blocks away. His bike bell dinged as he swerved from the bike lane into traffic to evade a car parked in his way just as sound of crashing glass rang out. Josh was with the X-Men but he was always kind of glad he wasn’t known for an offensive ability. He never knew where to look. When a fight or ambush broke out, he was always last to train eyes on the focal point. Cyclops, as ironic as it might be was always trained on the core of an issue, Wolverine had his senses, Rahne too. And then, toward the end of their roster was him, Josh, who thankfully was most needed in healing which happened only after the sticks had fallen. At the sound of the initial crack, his head whipped around in different directions until it fell upon a mass on the ground. It was a confusing shape until he realized it was human…ish and climbing to it’s feet. His eyes lifted to see a man plummeting behind it. Superhero stuff? Supervillain stuff? Josh knew to watch first before acting, meanwhile there were tons of innocent bystanders. He tossed his bike aside, thankful that his helmet as a shard of glass fell upon it. He managed to shield a nearby woman struggling with shopping bags with his shoulder, a few smaller shards cutting at his skin as it rained down. “Move, move, move,” Josh shouted over the head of the woman as she clutched her bags to her breast. Many people didn’t even need him to say anything. Others were spectating, there were always spectators, either too stunned to move or alert enough to think how catching another superhero fight on camera could net them money from news sites. “Get out of the street, this is a dangerous area!” With a bit of a shove, Josh pushed the young woman he was shielding through the clumping of cars and under the awning of a nearby pizza shop and raced over to a person he saw cowering on the ground. He could tell the person was hurt, in a dangerous area too considering how close they were to the aggressors on the street. The wounded man shuddered at the wail, Josh was caught off guard as well but kept his head clear enough to help the man duck behind a nearby car. “Can you run?” Josh asked to receive a nod. Joshua was no Colossus but practicing with the X-Men and manipulating his own musculature through his powers made him plenty fit. He helped pull the man to his feet so they could limp off, all the while letting his healing effect seep through the contact. Josh felt tissue stitch up beneath the surface, could sense a sprain and sent thoughts out to reach it. “Get outta here!” Josh said, getting a little flustered now as a teenage boy sprinted behind him, camera phone in hand. Josh turned his head back to the threat, never letting either wildcard, either potential danger from his sight or turning his back to the conflict that took place. He wasn’t sure what he was looking at. The first figure, the one that had hit the ground, was not human… though he didn’t know who or what it may have been. The second figure was a stranger too but that, he believed was either man or mutant. “Hey, what the hell! Take this somewhere else before someone gets hurt!” He shouted toward the man of the lighter landing. |
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| Baron Mordo | Sep 5 2017, 05:00 AM Post #3 |
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Not the Sorcerer Supreme
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(OOC: apologies for the delay, this month has been ridiculous) To Mordo's surprise, one of the humans was neither running in fear nor frozen in panic, but rather keeping his head as he dealt with the wounded with surprising effectiveness. Military training, perhaps? Not that it mattered much against a revenant, admittedly. "Show some respect, boy, or better yet still your tongue! Baron Mordo takes orders from no mortal." Also, he hadn't chosen the site of this battle in the first place, not that he was going to admit that under the circumstances... he didn't care about the bystanders, and would far rather admit his indifference than admit his inability to do otherwise. He raised his voice further to imperiously instruct the others: "Let those who can find shelter, do so now!" Mordo backed away from the advancing revenant as three simple, fluid gestures invoked a translucent wall of force between them, a slightly curved manifestation similar to a riot shield in its dimensions. A moment later the creature's axe struck the force wall as it had Mordo's earlier shield; this time the stronger weave held against the axe's enchantment, though just barely. Another blow or two would shatter it, which would not leave him enough time to complete a spell powerful enough to destroy the construct. He needed, therefore, to buy more time. A different foe he would confound with illusion, or use the bleeding mortals around them to distract, but this construct did not have enough of a mind to enchant and was no doubt imprinted with only one target: whoever had invaded its domain, in this case Mordo. So. A different plan was required. A light touch to the inside of his left wrist, and the whispered name of a demon bound to service years earlier. The pentacle tattoo on his wrist faded as the demon took form, and took its purpose from the surface of Mordo's mind, and a small vortex of air in a shape suggestive of a large dog swarmed through the remnants of his now-shattered force wall, engaging with the revenant. Not that a simple air elemental would do much damage to his opponent, but by the same token, simple physical force would do little to injure his demon ally. The two would, hopefully, engage one another long enough for him to prepare a spell capable of destroying his attacker. That's when he finally noticed the energies the young human was wielding. Not magic, no but close enough that Mordo could identify them as healing energies. Which, against a creature such as this, which channeled its animating essence from death itself, might prove more useful than pure force. "Boy," he called again. "That you are a healer, I can see. Are you a good one?" |
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| Kate Bishop | Jan 26 2018, 08:15 PM Post #4 |
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Quite the Shot
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[belatedly jumping in to give this thread a kick as discussed] It felt so good to be out in full gear again. The thought lingered, a constant background, as Kate’s bike weaved its way through traffic. A quick tap to her goggles and an earpiece extension on the left temple was ready to feed in any real-time radio reports, anything mentioning worrying abbreviations or codes. Often the closer the Archer got to Hell’s Kitchen the more 10-10s or OCCB mentions would filter through. Police comm channels at work just couldn’t compare to all the Horizon Lab tech she was free to deploy as a vigilante. She’d actually missed that faint chattering static noise of frequencies being scanned and dismissed. Keeping the Archer’s schedule erratic helped make her appearances less predictable – an important factor given SHIELD had already tried sending Speed out to detain her – but at the same time she wanted to reclaim a sense of ‘superheroic’ rhythm again. The whole point of acting alone had been to try and restore a sense of order to the worst parts of her city still infested with the lawless; the places SHIELD and even NYPD had largely abandoned to the likes of the Archer, the Daredevil, the Punisher… She had no idea how Teddy ever managed to juggle SHIELD agent duties, X-Factor business his husband was tangled in and raising twin super-babies (her namesake might look human for now but no one could tell big Kate that little Kate wasn’t super). Evidently, all it took to derail her own organizational skills was some added babysitting duties and an uptick in reported hate crime after Magneto’s return. Any free time left, she’d found herself barely managing regular target practice let alone venturing back towards Hell’s Kitchen for meaningful Archer patrol. Finally though, she’d gotten a day where her free labour wasn’t already spoken for. And she wasn’t rolling home exhausted from a graveyard shift either. Kate had already made her way up from her Red Hook warehouse, over the East River and was weaving her bike through the traffic on 6th Avenue. She’d been mulling on the best hidey hole to head for and park up, maybe somewhere on the edge of Hudson Yards where she could slip into Hell’s Kitchen more subtly. But then a wholly unexpected alert came through on the audio feed – a 10-66 in Midtown with request for EMTs and all available officers… 66 was reserved for ‘unusual incidents’, things like plane crashes, a building collapsing, train derailments; events that, even outside of M-Town, often heralded unlawful metahuman activity. She diverted her path from west to east, flying past the Flat Iron en route. There seemed nothing amiss there, so Tommy and his family probably weren’t involved, thankfully. When she finally arrived on scene she had to brake quicker than expected. Her rear tyre hopped up off the ground, tilting her forwards, as she skidded a few yards on the asphalt to avoid fleeing civilians. Before her lay a sea of broken glass and rubble debris, terrified and injured people running in any direction they could manage. Complete chaos. She knew the area. Before she’d settled on the Greenwich fire house, her sister had dragged her round a viewing of the complex that seemed to be the source of the disturbance. She’d seen an obscenely lavish apartment with twelve foot ceilings, a wood-burning fireplace, a large library and room for a grand piano. So possibly a prime location for a superhuman robbery attempt? Her initial theories were so biased that she failed to consider the former/current occupants might be the sole source of trouble. There were already two police cars, but the officers looked to have their hands full just fielding the injured and blocking off the roads. The only other person moving towards rather than away from the epicentre of the screaming, Kate scrolled through smart-glass views to try and discern the nature of what she was looking at. Because from a regular view it looked like… a zombie fighting a hellhound! That was the only way to describe it. Her tech did very little to clarify, beyond confirming that neither entity had a normal living body heat. The humanoid-thing seemed to be the more aggressive of the two, so the Archer wasted little time in launching a pair of putty arrows to try and immobilize it. She landed two strikes that glued its feet to the ground then one hand to its thigh. It was worrying that the strike to its body didn’t seem to register any pain, usually those putty-heads stung like a paintball shot at close range. She was about to reassess the canine-thing when she noticed a lone figure behind it… he had a shield up that reminded her vaguely of something Billy might do. And he was calling out in a haughty tone to those trying to help more of the injured away. Her eyes narrowed, unsure whether she was looking at an instigator or perhaps another potential vigilante like herself. “Hey!” She called out, pitch and tone of her voice dropped by the modulator on her choker. It helped mask her identity, but beyond that people seemed more inclined to heed the Archer when she spoke in a more androgynous, aged register. “Any chance of a quick summary for what the hell’s happening here?!” |
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| Baron Mordo | Jan 27 2018, 05:46 PM Post #5 |
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Not the Sorcerer Supreme
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(hooray!) The healer-boy proved useless, too focused on mending the useless wounded to listen to Mordo's instruction. And as he'd expected, the windwalker he'd conjured was doing nothing to harm the revenant, though -- again, as expected -- its noncorporeal frame was standing up to the construct's axe better than his shield had. He'd bought himself some time. Now to deal with the threat itself. The simplest solution, of course, would be to remove himself from the situation and allow the revenant to plow unhindered through the local crowds. But sooner or later he would have to resume ownership of the penthouse apartment, and as long as the revenant remained active that would never be safe. Still, it was worth considering... he could withdraw himself to Castle Mordo, and devise a counterspell to unravel the revenant's animation matrix at his leisure. Worth considering, but in truth he didn't consider it. The penthouse was his; he'd found it and secured it. He would not permit a mindless construct to hound him from it. No, Baron Mordo being who and what he was, a challenge to his status could not go unmet. "Faltine's Flames obey your master," he called out, his hands weaving a complicated web of sickly green light. The spell he was invoking was spoken in his native Romanian in his own mouth, but its innate power was such that its intent could be understood by any. "Kindle in this creature's core A spark, consuming ever faster Everything --" His casting was interrupted by a flight of arrows striking the revenant, binding it to the ground... for a moment, anyway... and by presumptuous questions by the archer responsible. Mordo scowled in irritation and returned his attention to the spell, a dart of green flame bursting into existence in the center of the elliptical pattern his hands had woven and launching itself towards the revenant's chest as he spoke the final words "...that stands before!" Although Faltine's flames were primarily of use against living targets, which the revenant certainly was not, they also burned hot against objects which had been infused with magic, which the undead construct certainly was. And as the dart lodged itself in the construct's chest, Mordo could see the green flames spreading through its body as it continued to fight his windwalker ally. "We have been attacked by a revenant," he explained to the mortal archer as he watched the construct burn, with a superior tone that suggested that anyone of even average intelligence ought to know that already. "We have consigned it to the Flames of the Faltine. It --" It took a moment for Mordo to notice that while the revenant was wreathed in green flame, it was not actually being consumed. He stared incredulously as the construct switched its axe, now flame-wreathed as well, to its free hand and swung at the windwalker. As before, the blade itself passed through the air elemental's matrix harmlessly... but the flames surrounding it were a different story, and in moments the elemental had been consumed in green flame. The revenant refocused its attention on Mordo then, and with an irritated grunt resumed its attack. The putty-arrows held fast, but the same could not be said of the asphalt beneath them, and in a moment Mordo was dodging attacks from the flaming warrior. Apparently this would not be simple. |
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| Kate Bishop | Jan 29 2018, 11:02 PM Post #6 |
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Quite the Shot
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“…Revenant?” Ohhhh that sounded like something she ought to have known about, maybe from something in Bills’ fantasy film collection, if not his actual magic. She was fairly sure it was just a fancy word for zombie anyway… hopefully without the extra worry of a biohazardous element. The haughty tone of explanation it was delivered in didn’t phase her. Detectives at work had been speaking to her like that for going on five years now. Water off a duck’s back. As long as he didn’t tell her to run along and get a coffee order in. “We have consigned it to the Flames of the Faltine.” “The what now?” Also was he referring to himself as ‘we’? Like a royal address? Focus Kate! Flaming Zombie tearing up a main traffic artery, bigger issues to worry about! “It --” She watched him fall off his high horse in the time it took for the ‘revenant’ to switch up its swinging hand and set the other entity on fire. “…I’ve got extinguishers buuut I’m guessing that isn’t normal combustion.” The Archer commented, desperately trying to think of anything in her arsenal that would actually help. Canine-thing gone, the remaining combatant switched its focus. Which was clearly the… she was going to go with ‘wizard’, until a better term came along. “The polymer in those arrows doesn’t hold well under extreme heat.” She added, trying not to panic as it gave up trying to dislodge its feet and just full-tilt ripped out the asphalt it was stuck to. “Or angry supers in the Ten Ton Club!” In a moment Mordo was dodging attacks from the flaming warrior. “Crap!” Kate barely managed to dodge the fallout as the axe slammed into the road surface, attempting to cut Mordo in half. At least it wasn’t just mindlessly flailing, trying to create as many fatalities as it could. It seemed to have a singular target. “What did you do to piss this thing off so bad?” She was tempted to just try re-gluing its new concrete boots down, but her instincts said to save the remaining putties for something more constructive than a basic delay tactic. Head whipping around she managed to catch sight of a man in concierge uniform frantically wafting rich and very confused people from the door of the epicentre, the tenement with a hole for a penthouse wall. Okay. “Did you clear the building?” “I think s-” a middle-aged woman clutching a small dog trotted past them as fast as her fluffy slippers would carry her “Yeah, I think that’s everyone who wasn’t out already.” “See those guys?” She pointed to the nearest pair of police officers and the concierge nodded, “Tell them this place, specifically, needs a cordon. Confirmed bomb level.” They’d probably already ordered in a metahuman containment unit, but a ‘mutie wagon’ probably wasn’t going to cut it with this thing. The revenant wanted the wizard, not her or the other people around it. So, pushed for options, Kate decided to move the target – something archers could deal with a whole lot better than anything swinging a melee weapon. “Sorry!” She yelled pre-emptively before pulling out a bolas and flinging herself into the wizard. The two weights swung out, tangled, and effectively tied the two figures together. A second later and she had the grapple arrow loaded and aimed for the penthouse. It caught between two pieces of stubborn rebar and started yanking Kate up. She grimaced, relying on the magnet connections in her gloves to keep her grip on the bow when Mordo’s mass was added to the weight being lifted. At least the mech side could handle the load, she just prayed the grapple stayed lodged. It threw them to the raw edge of the demolition site in an undignified roll, knocking the air out of Kate’s lungs. She had to raise her arms just to get some air in before unhooking the bolas and crawling free from her ‘passenger’ across the floor of what had been a lavish room. Maybe the wizard had time to pull another fancy construct out of his ass now… The Faltine Flambé wasn’t helping. A disturbing howl echoed from the street below. “If revenants know how to use elevators, I officially give up.” Kate coughed, hoping the shake in her arms wasn’t going to stick around too long. |
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| Baron Mordo | Jan 30 2018, 05:30 AM Post #7 |
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Not the Sorcerer Supreme
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"No, your extinguishers will not help," Mordo confirmed. "On the other hand, you needn't worry for your 'polymers'." Whatever those were. "The Flames do not produce heat as such." The putty arrows seemed unaffected by the flames, confirming the mage's assertion. Not that he cared whether she believed him or not. There was no point in trying to explain how the Flames of the Faltine were a manifestation of the extradimensional Faltine realm, from which Mordo's master hailed, nor how its actions on the Earth plane consumed magical and living constructs but left inert matter alone. And to be honest, Mordo himself wasn't sure what the revenant was doing with those Flames, it was a variation on their conjuration he'd never heard of before. Clearly whoever had set up this magical ambush was no novice. He ignored the impertinent question about what he'd done to trigger the trap, concentrating on evading the revenant's attacks. Magical augmentation over many decades had left Mordo faster and stronger than a mere human, but the same was true of his attacker; it was all he could do to stay clear of its blows. He wasn't anticipating an attack from his erstwhile ally, and didn't have the attention to spare to keep track of her even if he had been; her grappling attack caught him entirely by surprise. "How dare you lay hands on --" he began, attempting to free one of his hands to deal with this new threat, when the archer's machinery lifted both of them off the ground, out of the revenant's flaming reach. Not an attack, then, but a rescue of sorts, albeit a clumsy one. "Ah. Perhaps I was hasty. Your apology is accepted," he continued begrudgingly once they'd landed, "and you have Mordo's thanks." Honor obliged him to acknowledge that his melee with the revenant was unlikely to have ended well for him, and he consequently owed her a debt. He was hoping the battle would provide him an opportunity to clear that debt before she had an opportunity to cash it in in a more inconvenient fashion. "No, that's unlikely," he conceded regarding the elevators. "But don't expect that to stop it for too --" he paused to conjure a hasty shield that deflected a hurled piece of debris, "--long. Constructs of its type do not give up, once summoned. And this particular creature is far better designed than the usual." As smaller missiles were proving useless, the revenant reasonably escalated to larger ones; that the car it latched onto for the purpose had a passenger was of no more interest to the revenant than it was to Mordo, who knew his shield would hold against the impact, if just barely. "Keep it occupied for a few moments," he instructed Kate with the air of someone who expected his orders to be followed. "Mordo will devise a mechanism to dispatch it." |
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| Kate Bishop | Feb 9 2018, 11:01 PM Post #8 |
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Quite the Shot
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They both heard the roar that accompanied the first flung projectile. Kate’s instinct was to brace for an impact but thankfully Mordo’s powers, magic, whatever it was, blocked the intended trajectory. She still flinched as it hit the ethereal wall. She’d always trusted her eyes before all else, so even after seeing all manner of energy constructs and telekinesis it could still be difficult trusting the strength of barriers made of little more than sheer will power. “Constructs of its type do not give up, once summoned. And this particular creature is far better designed than the usual.” “Usual?” She echoed back in disbelief. Kate could take a little comfort in the fact that this Mordo character seemed to have an arrogant brand of fortitude though. He must’ve developed it out of need, if these kinds of monsters were already familiar to him! She carefully ventured out to the edge of broken brick work and twisted rebar, peeking down at the street. “It won’t give up… okay… as in, they don’t fatigue? …But you do?” She jumped back a step as a public trash can, ripped from the street bolts and all, bounced off Mordo’s defences. “So that rules out trying to tire it out in a chase. Got it.” Making another check of the street, Kate’s eyes went wide behind her goggles as she saw the revenant pick up one of the police cars. There was still an officer inside, a policeman who’d been desperately yelling into the radio, likely about the situation escalating. Another day, a different area, that could have been her partner Charlie. Metahuman Containment Units were effective when they showed up, but she knew from personal experience that deployment could get snagged up in control centre protocol – sometimes you had to literally scream at dispatch before confirmation came through. When you were the unlucky first responder dealing with random super-weirdness, the wait could feel like fraught aeons. It was why she’d done the training but never deigned to apply for an MCU team position herself. “Keep it occupied for a few moments,” he instructed Kate with the air of someone who expected his orders to be followed. “Mordo will devise a mechanism to dispatch it.” “Okay, okay, okay.” Kate muttered anxiously, holding a hand up to signal compliance as she rolled her shoulders in warm-up. In the middle of a fraught situation she’d never had problems issuing direction, even to her elders and betters. But she’d learned the hard way not to snark or argue back with orders from others just for its own sake. Especially when she had absolutely no frame of reference for a problem. “Whatever you’re gonna do, er, good luck with that!” Without further preamble she dived from the penthouse, grabbing the grapple cable that had whisked Mordo out of the fray. When they weren’t helping her keep a grip on the bow to ascend, the magnets in her gloves came in awfully handy for gripping the galvanised steel in a quick descent. Her mind raced as she skidded down the side of the building, scrolling through rescue options. Projectiles were her thing, this monster didn’t get to play in her arena unchecked! But if the creature didn’t fatigue, then tranquillizer would likely be a wasted shot. Judging by how it handled magic flames, she didn’t trust a flashbang to blind it’s aim enough. A net risked trapping the officer in his vehicle… Barely a second after her feet touched the sidewalk, her mind was made up and she was drawing an arrow, focusing her aim. She fired and a second round of putty exploded around the creatures hand, glueing it to the car. As it went to throw it only succeeded in stumbling over, like a grotesque giant version of a bowler pranked into superglueing themselves to their bowling ball. The car hit the road with a thunderous crash. The poor policeman was probably going home with a wicked case of whiplash, but better that than loosing a limb or being crushed to death. She ran to the far side of the car, flicking the bow into a collapsed position as she went. “Brace!” She yelled, and used its more compacted weight to swing at the remaining glass in the passenger-side window, until there was a decent safe opening. The officer lunged for her and she helped drag him out and away. Clearing past a few high rises, she handed the man off to the first person she saw – thankfully more EMTs were starting to show up. The Archer turned back to the revenant and pushed two fingers past her lips to let out a loud, high-pitched whistle. The creature turned and practically screamed at her, even as it was furiously trying to yank its grip free. Kate’s bow was flicked back to full length and she drew again. This time an explosive tip. She waited just a fraction longer, for the creature’s flailing to hit fever pitch. Its strength drew the car up off the ground again and that was the window she’d been waiting for. Bomb tip arrow connected with the car’s underbelly, creating an explosion bolstered by the gas tank igniting. Several ground floor windows imploded and even Kate herself was knocked back by the force of the blast – oh she was liable for so much property damage now! But she sincerely hoped for a lucky break, maybe it would cripple the assailant’s limb or melt its damn face off… Successful or not, she figured there was no way Mordo could say she wasn’t keeping the thing occupied! |
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| Mesmero | Feb 14 2018, 08:29 PM Post #9 |
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Hyper-Hypnotism
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continued here: http://xmr.jcink.net/index.php?showtopic=155&hl= |
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2:11 PM Jul 11