Locale: Anonymous (CVnU thread)

@aphasic :

Very few men could look the Enigma in his canary pupil's and reach the part of him that fueled his heroic endeavors. The futuristic world which was described poetically by the stoic soldier gave Ronin brief visions of what it would be like if his world had succumbed to writing their own extinction, there had already been plenty of events on a global scale. In a systematic fashion zealous extremist sought to eliminate entire species' and the events started to become frequent, the damage more widespread.

Falcon's eyes were trained on the man's soul , and there was a brief silence that created a tension almost as thick as the fog that filled the park . The tension melted a few seconds later as the Paper Ronin stepped from the shadows fully, coming face to face with the German War Machine who stood there with a stance that said he was deadly. Falcon had already analyzed the soldier and assessed his threat level, he already mentally noted the man's ability to sense him , and already listened to the man's heartbeat to see if he was lying. The Half-Moon Hayabusa completed his cerebral sensory analysis in milliseconds, but the suit of his was gathering energy frequencies from the Sentinel's personal aura and somehow deemed it honorable and trustworthy. The ancient weapon system which was created by gods, and attached to Falcon has had many previous holders who were all great warriors , and from it's centuries of experience is able to act as a "Truth Sensor" for the wielder to use.

Even with no doubt of the man's sincerity , the Paper Ronin pulled out a thin card that displayed various algorithms and energy readings on its holographic surface. He held it up to the man and a grid wave harmlessly cascaded the soldier vertically and horizontally before it bleeped and collapsed into the dimension vault of the Nile Flux. From the Ronin's wrist a small scarab came through his skin ,leaving no injury as it walked into is palm and closed it's fluttering wings to become a petrified object of mystically enhanced robotics that seemed to be made from the finest minerals and advanced technology. He tossed it at the man's feet and fell back into the shadows all in the same moment.

" We can use that to communicate. I've got to go. I smell a vampire....." His words seemed to hang in the air before fading as if he was becoming more distant in only a matter of seconds. Falcon had already left the meeting , and was now heading down the cobblestone streets of the Port city , turning into a dark alley. The moon glistened off of the Shadowstalker's silver katana as he walked with no sound at all, only letting his blade sing.

@paper_ronin: (Nice. I think we can end it here)

@paper_ronin: what do vampires smell like?

I feel like it'd be beef jerky and polo red.

The spider like vigilante Kameo stuck to a wall on some random building, still donning her Ivory uniform as it rained heavily

she made a single comment to herself as she gazed at the passing pedestrians and automobiles that were completely oblivious to her presence.

Lol, I've been trying to think about that.

@zauberin

Seeing Kieran confined to his bed by a coma was painful enough, a friend never hopes to see a friend in such a state. However, from Ambrosius' point of view, the pain was only magnified by the fact that it was a friend he considered to be the sweetest man in the world that was now comatose. The Arcane Architect however, promised himself that whenever possible, he'd gather the necessary alchemical ingredients to mix into some sort of potion that would hopefully restore the Notorious Wilshere's health. Unfortunately though, Ambrosius had greater priorities to devote his attention to. Namely evading the increasingly aggressive pursuit of the Portuguese Ministry of Magic. Zipping back and forth from the physical world to the supernatural as a means of hiding was no longer effective.

They now followed his trail by searching for the active bursts of magical energy caused by every spell he cast and every portal he tore open. Now returned to the physical world much earlier than anticipated, he sought to quickly make his way home to speak with Arturia. The matter was urgent. More urgent than the easygoing, dashing sorcerer cared to admit. With his current circumstances leaving him in no position to use magic unless he intended to risk being found, Ambrosius was now confined to using ordinary methods of transportation. No longer could he simply conjure a portal and reach his destination through it, it was a red flag. He, never having learned how to drive, now took the bus, and booked plane tickets. It was a tedious but necessary experience. At the very least, he got him home.

Though the stress from escaping pursuit after pursuit was slowly beginning to mount, the Arcane Architect still seemed to carry himself as he used to, for the most part at least. His cool, alluring air of mystique remained, as did the charm and poise of his relaxed, personable disposition. "I shouldn't be this stressed", he said just above a whisper, the smooth notes of his voice melding with his soft Portuguese inflection as he straightened his dapper garments, "A man dressed this good shouldn't feel stress", he chuckled calmly, jesting more for his mental composure than anything. Unlocking the door before setting foot inside his palatial home, the Portuguese sorcerer's eyes, dark and seductive in their enigmatic flair searched all about his encompassment for potential charms. He couldn't be too sure. His pursuers could have appeared at his home and set explosive runes on surfaces and whatnot to assault him.

Or at least, he considered they might have. "No that's impossible", he dismissed the thought with a mild shake of the head, a relieved smile curling upon his suave features. "That would never fly past Arturia", he assured himself with an exhale before calling out, "Arturia? Sweetheart? Are you home?", he inquired, his voice echoing through every hall and into every room. Though he needed her help, now more than ever, if she wasn't home, he could at least sneak a smoke. Something he considered with a tame smirk of subtle cheekiness.

Ooooh. Think I'll get to this after that other one is wrapped up.

Got something fun in mind.

@ambrosius:

By then long accustomed to thinking of the place as her own, Arturia made herself right at home in his absence (as much as she could, in any one place). For her, that meant, primarily, one thing: with Ambrosius away for so long, Arturia had been more than free to conduct her own magical studies and experiments. In some ways, simply marking her territory for magi and non-magi alike; others, expanding knowledge and experience. Experiments like the summoning ritual she'd been practicing when Ambrosius walked onto the property.

Her magic was far from its strongest and she lacked a number of pivotal instruments, but the point of the exercise was not to conjure an actual being. A pre-test, at most. The sigil was carved into the floor, a grimoire in one arm, a jewelled pendant in her other hand. As she began channelling her energies, the temperature began to change, and before long the room underwent what was essentially a microcosmic climate shift. Deep black billows blotted out lamps and candlelight alike, the room's only light source then the crimson glowing sigil on the floor.

"Let silver and steel be the essence.
Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.
Let black be the color I pay tribute to.
Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall.
Let the four cardinal gates close.
Let the three-forked road from the crown reac—"

A chill ran through her spine and she stopped the incantation. Snapped to full alertness. Someone's here.

When she arrived one of the first actions Arturia took was the setting of a bounded field about the house. A soft barrier that did nothing to prevent entry, but served as a silent alarm, attuned directly to her being, alerting her as well as her twin to any new presence on the property.

"Your body is under me; your eyes and ears are as mine." She'd scattered a number of familiars - small animals, squirrels, birds, rats... - around the city, some directly on the property. In them she could be many places at once. Inside and outside. She set a crow's eyes on Ambrosius and just as quickly snapped back to herself.

"Scheisse!" With a few gestures she did away with the haze and returned the room to normal, conjuring a carpet to cover the sigil in the floor and turning to face just as Ambrosius opened the door. "Sweetheart? That's odd," she muttered before attending him directly. "Ambrosius, hello," she said with a smile. "Your presence here is...stranger than mine. It's almost like you don't live here." A light jab, but not intentionally indicating anything deeper. She kept up her smile, friendly and welcoming.

@zauberin:

Restricted to being rather ordinary save for the supernatural attributes granted by his enchanted apparel, though really only his gold ring, 'Incididunt', Ambrosius lacked, or rather would not dare access the means to detect any magical anomalies that his home may be playing host to. He, therefore, could not identify the bounded field that enveloped the estate, nor could he sense the presence of the sigil beneath the carpet he now stepped on. Meeting Arturia's emergence with first a smile of tame contentment, followed by a soft laugh laced with the relaxed charm that disarmed and intrigued many, "Don't dwell on it, I call all of my female friends 'sweetheart'", he informed, half-true, half-teasing.

"Well, technically speaking, I don't really live anywhere", he began, coolly sliding both hands into his pockets as he held Arturia's gaze with his own, a personable smile gracing his well-groomed, debonair features as he resumed, "I've really become something of a nomad", the Arcane Architect jested, his smooth, Portuguese inflection adding an element of exotic poise to every word while aggrandizing the air of luring mystique that seemed so tangible around him. "You haven't found the book, have you?", he inquired, concerned, not curious, on whether or not she had come across his 'Black Book', "Not important", he dismissed before taking a step towards her and continuing. "I have one bit of good news, and the rest is just bad news".

"The good news is that it seems my going back and forth between realms has ceased so it seems we'll be spending more time with one another", he pointed out, "The bad news is that I'm being forced to, in a sense. Not the spending more time with you, sweetheart, you're lovely company, but the part about me no longer being able to go from here to all those supernatural planes". Fighting the urge to light a cigar, he continued, "The people pursuing me have become far more aggressive. They pop up more often and its become difficult to hide from them. They won't come here because I have protective charms around the house but they won't last forever. And I won't be able to cast them again because", he sighed, "I can't use magic anymore".

"I mean, I most certainly can, I just don't. They track me by detecting the bursts of magical energy every one of my spells generate. So until this mess is taken care of, I won't be able to use magic freely. But that, Arturia, is where you come in", Ambrosius paused. Though his cool flair and easygoing charm remained, a visible and audible shift conveyed the gravity of the situation. "I need you now more than ever, to help me. There's one man who can help me clear my name because his family has the reputation, the prestige in the supernatural community. He's a dear friend of mine, but unfortunately he's in a coma. A Jinn would be so useful right now", he quipped. "I need your help to develop a potion of some sort that will help him. I don't think less of my talent at all, I know how excellent I am but... I'm very average as far as alchemy is concerned. So I need you".

@ambrosius:

Arturia's face was unmoving, retaining her cheery expression as Ambrosius laid out the details of his situation. Internally, her emotional response was mild at best; although her eyes flashed a shimmery aqua for an instant when he mentioned the book. That's the second time. At the party she waved it off as a passing remark, which was clearly wrong. Not only had he mentioned it twice; he seemed...apprehensive?Well now I have to find it.

As he finished she responded with a slow nod, contemplating. Then, a helpless expression painted on her face, she let out a sigh and shrugged. "Sorry, friend. Not interested. You think I haven't noticed?" Her eyes flashed golden, then red, and then again golden, a slight scowl forming on her face. "You've barely in my life. You spend all your time away, and then you show up in sporadic bursts bearing gifts as if that small gesture supposed to...make us closer? They were nice, I suppose, but I'm done playing the nescient fool taking your gifts and pretending nothing's wrong." Voice rising, she began inching closer, thrusting an accusing finger in his direction. "You've as much as admitted that you're only here right now because you're being forced for your own well-being. You came to me because you want me to use my talents for your well-being. You didn't stop once to ask how I was doing, what I was up to or if I needed anything. I don't need a mind-enhancing crown to see that." Figuring that sufficient, she stopped and folded her arms in a huff, awaiting his response.

@zauberin:

For a moment, Ambrosius allowed Arturia's words to marinate in his mind as he held her gaze and felt his dashing features soften as she voiced her frustration with his frequent absence from her life. "Oh..", the dapper sorcerer began, his disposition still the picture of poise and cool, yet his expression seemed to yield to his emerging guilt, "Arturia, I had no idea", he paused. This was the obvious consequence of him never truly opening himself to her or even being present in her life. Internally, he hadn't an idea how he could explain his sentiments, he was a very secretive man, often evading and dodging intimate conversation by virtue of his charm and allurement alone.

"Okay, let me begin", he exhaled, bracing his hand, if she allowed him to, at the back of her waist and escorting her to the spacious living room, a more accommodating room. "Those gifts do mean something. I give them with all the love in the world", he continued, "And I know you know, I'm sure you've sensed it in them", he speculated, referring to her powers as an empath. "I'm no good at intimacy, conversational or otherwise", he admitted, pausing his steps before turning to face her, "Those gifts, as superficial as they may seem, are my way of showing that even when I'm not around here, I'm still thinking about you", his expression was genuine, and his words dripped with sincerity.

"I know I'm rarely around. Never around, really. But I'd like to be", he smiled. "Forget my request for help and everything about it", he requested, "I can find some other way. I've outsmarted them before, I can do so again". Gently, if she complied, taking her hand with winsome chivalry and guiding her towards a red velvet-covered chair, he continued, "Please, sit. I'm not good at this, sweetheart, I've spent a good part of my life shutting myself away from friendships and relationships, well, until I met you", and Kieran. "I'd like to make it up to you", he smiled, seating himself across her with the smooth, patrician swagger he carried himself with, "I may not express it as much as I should, but I do care a great deal about you. But saying it is one thing, proving it is another, right?", he inquired, "I'll do whatever's needed to make it up you. Promise".

Questions about his past, himself, anything, for the time being, he was now an open book. Whatever she felt she needed, he would go along with.

@ambrosius:

Although she hugged her arms reclusively tight to her body, Arturia made no move against Ambrosius as he opened himself up just a bit further. In fact, she embraced his touch, and everything that came with it. Drank in his feelings with an internal bliss belied by her outward manner; it was everything she could to to keep from smiling. The connection was shallow at best as far as her end was concerned, but for him it was so much more, and that was good enough for her. Misled emotion is just as genuine, after all. And just as exquisite.

Seated across from him, hand in hand, her features softened a bit and broke into a wistful smile. "Whatever is needed? What if you can't give it? What if it's not the same kind of love we seek? If I asked you for a kiss - or for more, would you be able to give it to me? Would you be willing?" She paused, scanning for a reaction. A sign in his face, posture, something to show she'd been clear, and to gauge its effect. Then she straightened up and broke contact, holding up her palm as to halt any reply he might have started. "I've got some good news and some...other news for you too, Ambrosius."

At that her countenance brightened considerably. Her smile, smug as the cat with feathers in her maw. "The good news? You're not on emotional trial, my sister still thinks the world of you. I'm sure she'd love to help you. But she's probably only about average at alchemy too. However,I might be able to help her help you - my tastes are pretty eclectic and I've got a lot more experience than her" though she was honestly more intrigued by the other means he'd mentioned. "I'm not sure how to ask for something in return without sounding like I'm trying to extort you - we're just not that close," she said with a shrug. "So maybe we'll do it for her sake, hm? Oh, and you really do need to start caring for her more directly. Maybe it all goes away when she sees you and feels that connection again, but all that distance...it's not good for her. You're pretty much the only person she's really had. Like, ever. Those kinds of connections aren't easy to come by for a succubus. Even harder to maintain, even without all the baggage you bring."

Satisfied with her spiel, she extended a hand, slightly bent at the wrist, while she made a formal introduction. "Ylanis Esaith." She used the name of her mother. "My apologies for all the mess. I only needed to check your sincerity. No better way than to feel it directly. And..." she said with a demure giggle, "I couldn't help myself, I was feeling mischievous."

@zauberin:

What if he couldn't give it? Those words lingered in his mind as Arturia's voice, luring and teasing hung in the air between them. He considered it a very real possibility, that he might not be able to offer the things she sought. He was after all, somewhat guarded. But then again, there he was, willing, to try. Willing to lay down his shields and offer as much of himself as possible and whatever his companion might need. For a moment, silence rested between them before a smile, silent yet teasing, charming in its knowing mystique, graced Ambrosius' debonair features as he held her gaze. That was his answer. Would he be able to or willing, perhaps. Or perhaps not. Willing to try however, he was.

He had after all, come into possession of his 'Incididunt' ring for that very purpose. To allow him to be closer to her without risk of losing his life-force. That was perhaps his greatest expression of willingness. Halting any potential verbal reply from him however, the succubus' palm was raised and held before him as she, with the most mischievous grin, dropped a bombshell. "Sister?", he first inquired, an expression of confusion falling upon his visage. Arturia had never mentioned a sister, much less a... twin, it seemed. Though with things brought into perspective and with the studious efforts of his now squinting eyes, their shade shifting from violet to purple, from blue to emerald, he smiled, she did seem slightly older it seemed.

Older, more refined in her mannerisms, and more manipulative. "I'd say you've taught me quite the valuable lesson", he began, self-assured composure lacing his voice and features as he offered a genuine smile of subtle gratitude. "I'd best not open with that when I do see your sister", he'd make a greater effort to spend more time and connect with her before speaking of his troubling predicament. "Well, thank you for not extorting me then", he paused, half-jesting, half-genuine in his thankful demeanor. "Don't worry, I understand what you mean. Your sister is the only person I really have anymore as well". His words dripped with truth, though he hoped neither Arturia nor her sister had learned just how true those words were, because it would mean that somehow they'd come into possession of his black book, an artifact he had misplaced prior to his most recent disappearance.

Gallantly taking her extended in a moment of cordiality, Ambrosius offered a mild but courteous inclination of the head, "I'd like to say its a pleasure, Ylanis", he jested before rising to both feet and, if she was willing, gently raise her hand above her head and subject her to a playful, harmless twirl before relinquishing his hold and smiling with characteristic flair and subtle suavity, "There. Now I can say, its been a pleasure". He had a multitude of questions now though. Why had Arturia never mentioned a twin sister? How had she managed for so long (assuming she had been present for this long) to elude detection? "Not to be rude, Ylanis. You're a playful presence, but where is Arturia? I'd like to see her".

@ambrosius:

Taking his hand, Arturia rose with him, twirling in turn before spinning back into a curtsy, pulling at the hems of her skirt. "Don't worry sweetheart," she teased with a playful wink, "I'm not that sensitive anymore. Hold on, she's coming..." She folded her arms while opening a telepathic line of communication, waiting...

Moments later the girl in question appeared in a haze of black. She wore an affectionate smile that broadened at the sight of him, in spite of the blood and wear on her outfit, otherwise nearly identical to her twin. "Well whaddya know? I guess this 'good luck crown' really works," she joked through a few strained breaths before straightening up. She was composed, but her face bore a trace of uncertainty under its smile. "Something the matter? How long are you in for?" She refrained from openly scanning him over for signs of damage or distress. Not worth worrying him. Not when she could feel the mix of ambient emotional energy circulating anyway.

@zauberin:

Ylanis certainly oozed a different presence than Arturia did. She was cheekier and more playful it seemed. Though she lacked her twin's personable, sweet disposition, or at least what Ambrosius identified as 'sweet'. Meeting her engaging wink with a mellow smirk of refined charm and a subtle, dallying tilt of the head to the side, the Arcane Architect coolly inquired, "Sweetheart?", before allowing a relaxed chuckle to escape his dapper person, "Well, aren't you winsome", he paused, returning her tease with one of his own before Arturia's arrival was finally made. "Hey", he smiled in response to her ingress. Taking some steps towards her, intent on embracing her with a tenderhearted hug, the Portuguese sorcerer's steps halted midway, his gaze resting on the blood staining her garments.

"Oh...", he murmured, "It doesn't matter", he dismissed, hoping to, if she was receptive, bring her in for an affectionate embrace before taking a subtle step back while his hands gently rested on her shoulders as he scanned the blood stains on her garments, "Goodness, Arturia, are you alright?", he inquired, calm yet the tone of concern clear in his voice as he met her gaze and held it. "Hmm.. you seem fine", he murmured, eyes searching for any wounds on her flesh before returning her gaze. He couldn't rely on his magic for aid so what he determined from pure sight alone would have to do. Returning his arms to his side and sliding both hands into his pockets with smooth swagger and poised flair, Ambrosius answered the succubus' inquiries. "Things are complicated", he began, confessing that much, "For as long as I intend to", he answered with disarming wit.

"Not to be rude, Ylanis, but there's an overdue conversation I need to have with your sister", he paused, stating the obvious, "You were lovely company", he concluded with a quick wink and smile. Intent on escorting Arturia from the living room to one of the home's secluded balconies, Ambrosius released an internal sigh, there was much to be said.

@ambrosius:

"Don't dwell on it, I call all my humans 'sweetheart,'" "Ylanis" echoed his earlier jest, "but I guess in this case I'll try and avoid what usually follows." She let the implication hang in the air, only slightly less teasing than she projected.

Standing aside, she observed with an approving nod as the two embraced; Arturia seemed the more hesitant of the two. She hadn't been there for most of it but general feelings surrounding them (and some memories sneakily peeked while she felt) led the distant twin to the idea that the level of physical intimacy she saw in the moment wasn't entirely common between Ambrosius and Arturia.

Stepping back, Arturia extended a claw and dug into her forearm, drawing a bead of blood before allowing the wound to close. "I've been fed," she reassured, raising her shirt to show her likewise clear stomach for good measure. Along with Ambrosius she turned to visually address her sister's presence; mostly for his comfort. Whatever passed between them, she'd most likely be in on, at least if the conversation took the turn she expected.

"Ylanis?" She shot her a questioning thought.

"Name of an old friend. Don't dwell on it." Oblivious. Her expression declined markedly at the thought. Neither had ever known their respective mothers, but she'd at least had the fortune to dream of hers. And if her feelings were to be believed, she'd once or twice established communication through ESP and visions. Snapping from her thoughts she regarded Ambrosius with a slightly vexed admonition, not yet shifting completely from the sphere of her private thoughts to the public projection. "That's the second time you've said 'Not to be rude, Ylanis' in about three minutes. I assure you autistic friendliness is more annoying than stepping out or asking me to go. Relax, sweetheart." Passing a glance between the others, Arturia excused herself. "I'll start looking into that thing you mentioned." Not the potion. She couldn't care less about the potion. A wish-granting creature was far more interesting, and could benefit her as well.

As her other vanished and she left with him for the balcony, Arturia shot her longtime distant companion a questioning glance. "'Sweetheart?' You two...aren't...?" Half-teasing, half-worried for both of them.

"So...what's up?"

@zauberin:

Leaning over the balcony with his forearms braced on the railing, Ambrosius' gaze momentarily rested on the beauteous image of his estate's lush gardens. Though it was succinct, a warm smile seemed to curl at the edges of his mouth before he turned to meet Arturia's glance, "No, don't worry", he clarified, calmly dismissing the notion before a subtle, but cheeky smirk found its way to his debonair features, "She's a bit of a tease though", he jested. 'What's Up?', she asked, a question he would have liked to answer with 'My pursuer's persistence and aggression for one'. But he refrained from doing so. "A lot", he began, "I'll go according to what I think is most important".

"Arturia", his voice softened, seemingly more as his smooth, Portuguese inflection hung in the air with its cool, low notes, "I know I'm barely around. Never being a more accurate way of describing it", he paused, "For a long time, I've been on the run. And during that time, I should have made more of an effort to find ways to come and see you here, but when you live for so long on the run, that's really all you know how to do. Be on the run", he confessed with a sigh and apologetic gaze as he held hers. A person better acquainted with physical intimacy may have reached for the succubus' hand, Ambrosius however, did not, as sad as it was. "And I do remember once promising to visit when I could. I never meant to break that promise".

"I don't want you to feel neglected. You need someone who wants to be around, for you. I'll make an effort to become that person", he smiled, partially teasing while genuine in his intentions. "All those gifts I give you", he resumed, "They're my way of saying that even when I'm being pursued and I'm busy warding off my attackers as I jump from dimension to dimension, I'm still thinking about you. So I got myself this", Ambrosius paused, bringing the back of his hand into view as he wiggled his index finger, highlighting the gold ring on it, "I understand that physical contact with a succubus can be difficult so I made this ring. It'll allow me to be more.. intimate without consequence", not necessarily that intimate, but no matter the manner of physical contact, nothing would disrupt it so long as he wore the ring.

"I've also realized that we know next to nothing about one another. Its a bit sad when you think about it", he teased with a relaxed laugh, "Especially when you consider that we live under the same roof. Seeing as how my situation has taken a surprising turn, I now have the time to rectify that". He wanted to inform her of how aggressive the Portuguese Ministry of Magic had become in their pursuit of him, however, he decided to bring it up at a later point.

Tokyo Japan stands in a state of repair after one of the many grand conflicts to have come within just months of the new year. An assortment of battles and confrontation has left it's mark. At least two overgrown machines of war had been in the city. A large monster of lore had been awoken. One of the machines had even been thrown at said monster. There was also roads scorched from high speed movement, an entire district of town victimized by enthropy and more. Thinks to a miracle the death toll was quite low.

However many of those brought back from death lacked homes, transportation and in more then a few places jobs. Many also suffered from stress disorders from what they saw and so on. From what Cadence could tell heroes over the years had been exceptional at saving the day but not so remarkable at cleaning up after themselves.

That however was not why the violet vixen was here, she'd come for the statue standing before the stadium in reconstruction. A gothic teen had been turned to stone stood heroically posed for conflict. Natasha Howletzer or BloodDiamond had given up her life in the engagement. Well to an extent, Cadence could still hear a heart beat and the sound of pulsing blood. Course she couldn't undo the stone herself any sonic vibrations could effect the body. She could however remove the stone encompassing the sword. And as such Cadence did so removing NightHunter as her own. The sword replaced by a more traditional katana befitting of a samurai of old. Most people would likely see it as an improvement.

Cadence simply came for the sword pulling a hood over head as she sought to fade into the busy night life after.

@vocal: Nat died? T_T

@shogun_of_sarcasm: no just a statue. In theory someone should be able to revert her back to normal if they wanted. For awhile it was planed the Wildcardz might make her a mind controlled minion but evidently that didn't happen

@vocal: I'm guessing Luke is dead too... Somewhere... Waiting for mw to respawn him =P We should interact some time, cutie pie ;)

@shogun_of_sarcasm: we should. Any ideas in mind?

@vocal: Not really lol I'm up for anything really.

@_animus_

Rain, the day was pleasant up until a few hours ago; the torrential downpour came seemingly out of nowhere. It was becoming a trend; most of her days started vibrant and full of life bursting with activity; the usually ended with her sitting under an umbrella waiting for a late person of interest. Since her selection as director; days dragged into the wee hours of the morning and nights never felt like nights—especially since she couldn’t sleep in her own bed.

Because S.T.R.I.KE was still in its infancy, the title of director meant absolutely nothing in terms of grunt work; In just the few short months as director Ruby found herself in meetings with people all over the world synchronizing assets and intel and building the foundations of the organization.

Today was no different, she was to meet the soon-to be president of the United States, a country she once called home. Leaving America was hard, but returning was all too easy—especially because the topic presented a personal element.

Not long ago, she was part of a decoy envoy trip to Venezuela, separatist from the nearby country of Columbia attacked their convoy and captured damn near everybody; they were all eventually saved by Retrofire. She suffered a mild concussion in that event, and was deemed unfit for the secret service, her last mission however; was to locate the missing plane of Catalina and Retrofire that disappeared over the Mediterranean.

When they found only the wreckage of the plane on a nearby island, with only the bodies of a few dead mercenaries she suspected foul play, but was decommissioned before she could ask any questions. Now she wasn’t linked to U.S service, and there was one man who could give her the answers she needed.

“Vice President Thomas Animus”

@embargo: Getting out of the white house might be the hardest thing to do on this planet, even more so than getting in. Constant unending security detail directing his actions, paparazzi and foreign spies snapping shots from all angles of the outer perimeter. Luckily JFK was a veritable Don Juan.

After leaving the basement of the building through the same tunnels the sixities icon used to bring in his many late night lovers, Thomas arrived at street level in a wig, aviators and faux goatee. His disguise didn't need to be extensive, the simple fact the public thinks he can't walk already dissuaded anyone from the thought he might be this alternate identity of a striking resemblance.

Things were in truth, boring in the office. Soon there will be a major change in policy, most of the leg work already completed before today. The eye of this political storm was silent, only broken by the call of an unfamiliar woman with a call sign from outdated logs. The fact she was able to get into his system alone peeked his interests.

Strolling up onto the cobblestone wal way of the outside dining area, he passes the woman with the rose on her lapel that had to be his mystery woman. Sitting to her back and pulling out a newspaper, swatting it erect and pretending to skim the pages, he leans back.

"What can I do for you..." He says as the quantum cloud link of his mind to the CIA database searches for facial recognition "...Ruby."

@_animus_:

Going into the interaction Ruby already knew of the advantages Animus had over typical everyday humans, so the fact that he already knew her name didn’t startle her at all. “Mr. Vice President” she said fumbling in her pockets to find her cigarettes. “I’m looking for a man, a man I think you know” her statement was cut off by the flicking of her lighter and the eventual pull of her cigarette.

“His name is Retrofire, that’s all I have. A few months ago his and that murdering b!tch Catalina’s plane crashed in the Mediterranean ; at first everything seemed natural. Everything seemed as it should, The Wreckage, the convenience of international signals interfering with air traffic receptors.” She wouldn’t apologize for being uncharacteristically long winded it was a long week, and depending on his responses it looked to be even longer.

“Then we found something’s that didn’t make sense: The missing unknown cargo, no trace whatsoever of Retrofire amongst the wreckage; bodies of hired mercenaries littered across the island. Initially we thought Catalina killed them, but the deeper we went on the island the more sporadic the bodies were which suggest two people made it off that island. Only two people in the world have the capabilities to make that incident go away, and one of them was on vacation at the time. So. We know where Catalina is, where’s Retrofire ?”

@embargo: As soon as he hears the name, Retrofire, his ears twitch with intrigue. Disregarding the newspaper the self made man rises, and sits directly across from Ruby, removing his sunglasses to pierce her whiskey brown eyes with his steel grey ones, "Information is not unlike that cigarette. You might glean a small satisfaction in the moment of absorbing it. But eventually, too much of it, can, and will...kill you."

He pauses but never breaks eye contact, as smoke rolls past her lips "Your chasing something that's bigger than you, something that poses a threat to my position. I will not help you find the boy. Drop it now, and I'll provide you jurisdiction within the US borders, and moderate funding. Keep chasing the dragon and I can assure you, you will end up i the belly of the beast."

@_animus_:

To say that she wasn’t the slightest bit rattled by his break in demeanor was an understatement, but like she was taught so many years ago; aggression was a tail of guilt or secrecy. Allowing herself to be startled was novice, but normal; she didn’t expect the soon to be president to lash out—it was a mistake that wouldn’t happen again.

“Bribery huh?” She said, crossing her legs taking another drag from her cigarette. “Your term as president is starting off well.” She jested this time locking eyes with him. “Trust me, if you’re about to be president than this is a place I don’t need to be, and my current employer makes sure I am well off.”

Adjusting herself on the stool she took a moment to gaze at the man who was by all means larger than life itself; and simply chuckled. “Imagine my surprise to find out you’re actually in on this little conspiracy, you can’t pay this off; and you won’t get off easy with it. Now you can tell me what I need to know now, or you can live through the sh!tstorm that will follow when my findings hit the nightly news. “Your ball.”

@embargo: With a condescending smirk, Thomas lifts his hand and fans away both her smoke, and her fire. "You are an intelligent woman, your a strategic woman. What you are not however, is a woman who came prepared. Your taling to the tip Ruby. You haven't even seen the full scale of what lies beneath the surface."

Sliding his hand across the table he pulls out one of her cigarettes, then rubs his fingertips together. At first nothing happens, then an electric blue plasma charges out and sparks the inhalant to life, "Retrofire is in custody, for crimes against my establishment perpetrated in the year before he...went missing. He holds a very claustrophobia-inducing iso-cell in Guantanamo Bay. That's the information you requested, isn't it. The question is, what can you do with it? Ahnhn..hnnn..." He can't help but laugh like a coy smug bastard. Of course he could've kept the information to himself, of course she had no basis to link the second Retrofire to himself, and of course he could've killed her right then and there.

But when was the last time he had a real challenge. "Cell B dash four eight nine one. Row nine. Final level. You have one hour to get out of my country. Before I sell your corpse to Kim Jong Un."

@_animus_:

Ruby eyes watched as his cigarette sparks to life with a mysterious blue discharge—ok now she’d never be startled again. She listened as he dispensed his information and wrote down every detail to the letter. “I thank you for your time Mr. Vice President” she said, with a forced smile. Rising to leave, she turned back for just a moment, not going to allow his little insult to slide.

“Oh, you’re right I am intelligent and strategic woman; that’s why you’re not the first person of your little family, I’ve spoken with. Those Liafador women…tch with the right amount of tequila its crazy the amount of secrets they’ll tell” She said, dropping her lighter on the bench beside her. It was a novelty lighter something a person would pick up on vacation—in a place like Columbia.

“If you’re lying to me, I won’t have to return to your states. My FRIENDS will. Give my regards to Zedora…” She said, strolling off as if nothing had transired.

@embargo: His smile fades into a grimace. Of course it would have been Sophia, ever the anomaly "Most definitely and give mine to the guard who places a round between your eyes."

Outing the cigarette in the pot beside their table Thomas feels an unfamiliar itch in the back of his throat; regret.

@embargo: not zedora, Sofia. I said give my regards to zedora as to say she knows your with the society

@shanana: Tbh I always mix the two up, and knew what you meant but fcked up the names lol

stop talkin to your self btw.

LMAO! didn't even catch it lol

Sighing, Arturia took a single step inward to close the distance between the two. Her discomfort at least as much as his, she nevertheless made the first move. She placed a hand gently on his shoulder, with just a little pressure as if urging him to face her, offering a soft smile, somewhat amused. "Ambrosius, you don't have to worry about physical contact. It's only dangerous if we're kissing or...well, things like that." She stopped there. No need to go any further.

"As for neglect, don't worry about it. We've all got things that're necessary." She thought back to her own issues with Magitek and, surprisingly, she was glad he'd spent time away. If not for his absences, he would've been around to notice hers."Better to get it out of the way first so we can have the time later, and. You know, as opposed to you dying. And, well, if it means free stuff..." "But if you have time...does that mean it's all taken care of? They're not bothering you anymore?"

@zauberin:

She seemed amused, albeit slightly. Nevertheless, her following words were what in turn, drew some subtle amusement from the Arcane Architect. First a smile, relaxed but mildly entertained, curled upon his dashing, dapper features as he met and held her gaze. Then, a tame chuckle escaped him as he turned to fully face her. "Its a little bit cute how shy you become when you speak of such things, sweetheart", he teased, his engaging Portuguese inflection rendering his words more personable than they would have been otherwise. The ring was still useful however, should he ever be attacked by another succubus or find himself in the highly unlikely scenario of being entangled with one in some sort of passionate affair, it would save his life.

"Oh good, now there are two things I don't have to worry about", he smiled, partially grateful, partially quipping. Soon however, his smile seemed to fade as she questioned him on his progress with his pursuers from the Portuguese Ministry of Magic. For a moment, Ambrosius lowered his gaze from hers and glanced at his feet before returning his eyes' attention to hers with a sigh. "Sadly no. I have the time because it's not all taken care. They're actually bothering me quite a bit now. So much that jumping from magical realm to magical realm to hide until their pursuit cools down no longer works", he revealed. "They can now find me by detecting the bursts of magical energy released by every spell I cast and the like. So... I actually can't use magic anymore. Otherwise, I risk them finding me".

"Listen, Arturia, I don't want to worry you with this. Not right now. I might need your help later on but I haven't seen you... well, properly, in months", he smiled. "Let's just take a moment and catch up".

The struggle is real. I can't believe I missed this.

I'll respond tonight. Maybe. I was up all night and all day today, so I might sleep for the rest of today and not even mean to. [Or, just as likely, I'll sleep for an hour or two and then be unable to get back.]

I blame this heat for insomnia. So damn uncomfortable.

@ambrosius:

"Goddammit Ambro, why'd you even have to mention it? It's not even nerves. I'm just saying...I'm not interested." She rolled her eyes, though her annoyance was mild compared to the fact she'd at least had someone. All things considered her twin scared her sometimes, especially when it was just the two of them.

Arturia's eyes flashed as Ambrosius clarified his position. "No," she shook her head. "Well...sure, we'll catch up, but you've been hitting the smoke a bit too hard if you think I'll just sweep this under the rug. If they're still after you, well they're my problem too. Use your magic however you want. If they come, I'll kill them for you." Only then did it occur to her to ask, "Why haven't you killed them yet? Why the running?"

@zauberin:

A smile of personable, entertaining charm graced his comely features for a moment, acting as the precursor to a chuckle, soft and relaxed in its audible notes as he briefly averted his gaze from Arturia's before returning it to her once again. "Arturia", he began, "Relax. I was just teasing", he clarified. His smile however, soon faded upon the succubus' mention of murdering his pursuers. "Don't do that", he requested, his features remaining cool but more earnest than usual. "That would only make things worse. Murder is what initially got me into this mess, well someone framing for murder, to be more precise", he continued. "If I or even you just kill them, it'll only fortify their belief that I am a dangerous, murderous wizard who needs to be put to death".

"Besides, kill them and more will come after me. And my notoriety is bad enough as it is. These people are the official law enforcement of Portugal's supernatural domains. What I need to do is clear my name. That's why I've been running". He could have killed them, but to risk the entire Portuguese Ministry of Magic pursuing him? It was suicide. "And there's one man, a friend of mine, who can help me. But I'll need you as well. Your shape-shifting will be of great help. But right now, I don't want to think about this", he confessed. What he really wanted to do was smoke, but with Arturia's constant disapproval of his nasty habit, he's learned to exert greater effort in fighting his urges.

Eleanor Ruthven

I was the first of my kind. The result of a group of idiot devil worshipers back in the late 1890's that garbed themselves in cloaks, held onto torches, and half-ass read passages from scrolls that they probably should never have possessed, ushered me into the world. Only. they did not have the superior intellect, or the proper understanding of the occult they meddled with.

The result of which lead to their abrupt, albeit horrific deaths. Looking back on it all now, I find it funny that such a ragtag group of individuals, was even able to pull off such a summoning ritual, let alone a conjuring, and binding. I am fairly sure that the binding part of the ritual was a happy accident however, well, happy for me anyways. I get pulled out of hell, and they get pulled in. A dark trade, one could say.

The vessel they found for me was even satisfactory, a virgin sacrifice, who would have thought that the virgin would have been such an attractive young thing? Nope, I couldn't have planned any better myself, it was almost storybook the way it all played out.

The virgin sacrifice in the middle of the crudely etched glyph, the candles laid out at the proper points, the rich idiot cultists standing about, aloof in their grandeur.

Even now, I'm not sure if they actually thought it was going to work, I mean, could they really have been so daft. What did they think I was going to do, once they successfully ushered me into the material plane? Be grateful? Oh, yes, us demons are well known for how gracious, how kind of heart we all are. Idiots, I tell you. It was fun murdering them in cold blood, as they all panicked, some even tried to run! *Uncontrollable laughter*

@ambrosius: "...Fine," she sighed. "We won't retaliate just yet. But that whole 'running around until I clear my name' thing sounds like an exercise in futility, and very likely a waste of time. But," she relented, shrugging, "we don't have to talk about this right now.

"Sooo..." She turned and leaned back over the balcony. "What do you want?"

It only makes sense for my first assignment to take place in Gothic city due to my first hand experience with the land. I've barricaded myself behind these city streets for a few years, over that time I had the displeasure of learning about this city's darkest corners and buried secrets. However, this is the first time that the existence of Project Pantheons has come to my attention. Quintus, just gave me coordinates and told me the name of what I was looking for, I didn't ask what it was or why he needed it, eventually all the pieces in the puzzle would fall together.

The building that the coordinates pointed to seemed like a harmless flower shop by the mundane eye, he probably wouldn't have noticed it either should he had passed by it on a regular patrol night. When Mark walked in, it was a different story, the smell of flowers could only hide so much of the chemicals that they were moving through here, upon entering he felt a slight breeze coming from the janitor's closet. When he opened it, he could only see brooms and cleaning products, nonetheless the wind given by a hidden air conditioning system increased minimally signifying that he was in the correct path. The Last Knightfall tapped into the wall which seemed awfully adamantine for an ordinary place and drew an "N" with his explosive gel over it, blowing it to pieces.

El Rey Rojo glared down and saw an elevator shaft that could drop for about forty floors. I bet my entire inheritance that I'm going to find Project Pantheons at the ground level. My grapple line isn't long enough to reach the bottom, I should probably hack their elevator.

His gauntlet projected a hologram with three tiny carmine cartoon faces of himself representing the amount of firewalls protecting the elevator, the faces would produce a laughing noise and turn green once he had passed through them. This system was developed by Ellie Knightfall, one of the greatest technological minds on the planet, who also taught him a great deal about cybernetics in case he should need it, these two factors made it relatively easy for him to get through.

A giant metallic door labeled "Project Pantheons" told him that he was there, instead of a blunt approach like he had taken with the door above him he snuck through the air vent. Inside there was a metallic cell that was completely vacuumed aside from a small tube that gave out oxygen. I expected an atom splitting weapon or the codes to Armageddon. Mark didn't give it much of a second thought and just hacked through the door open through the command cener, what he would find hidden inside or should say "who" was really not what he expected.

"Holy shit".

@_vex_@raysh_al_shaytan

@_nox_: Thank you. Will read it and respond accordingly tonight :)

@raysh_al_shaytan:

Badass, I'll get back to working on my bio in the mean time.

@_nox_: Okay finally ready to kick this bitch into high gear

@_pantheon_ said:

That's the only gear that I know.

@_nox_:

Sometime Ago:

"No listen, let me explain it in a more layman term. Religious indoctrinations aside our closest living relative on the genetic calendar is the Chimpanzee. We share 99% of our DNA with them leaving just 1% difference. Doesnt sound like much but think about it. If we use the arbitrary measure of intelligence for this rather rudimentary explanation as the ability to compose sympathies, art, mathematics and science, well the Chimp can do none of those things." Pausing to adjust his rather slim framed glasses, the unknown man in an all white lab coat continued. "The smartest Chimp in the World MAY....may, be able to do sign language possibly even solve a rubrics cube. The human toddler can accomplish those feats and more. And all that separates us is 1% goddamn percent. So imagine a species still relatively human for all intensive purposes who's DNA adjacent with a tilted scale of say 3 or 4%? Imagine the ramifications." He stood with an overwhelming disposition of self-adulation. "Yeah well what you're talking about is impossible. Science fiction fella aint hard science." "Not yet it isnt, but someday it will be....."

Years went by, centuries even. The World grew in measures the human condition could barely fathom not more then a century removed. The mutants, the New Gods, the Ultra-Sapiens, and eventually the Inhumans all emerged to revolutionize Darwin's theory through radical genetic development. A new frontier had not only been discovered but in some examples harnessed and or exploited. And that is where this tale begins.

The New God had been temporarily rendered human during one of his many heroic battles and thus, for the first and last time since his arrival, his blood had been spilled. Its engineering rewards held the potential to cure disease or prolong life. But as so often the case, there were those who's overriding fear of these new and foreign species, and the World governments inability to control and or defend against such potential threats; propelled them to explore a different avenue. A weapons based avenue. Left to their own devices these men of science tortured and killed, ripped and spiced, crossing moral boundary after moral boundary with each increasingly disheartened failure. Abomination after abomination had to be put down. Until they hired a mercenary, of sorts, who shared their fear mongering ideology but who's own genetic sequencing had produced a new form of homo-sapien, the Ultra-Sapien. And with his blood cultivated a cross bred amalgamation with the sample they had previously collected from the prized paragon. Formulating a single syringe filled sample which they then injected into the body of an underdeveloped fetus. The birth was simply more then the childs mother could bare. After all such an abomination could not have been brought into this World in any other way but death.

But even with the mutant haters blood, even with the Champion's re-modified DNA, the creation was sickly and weak. Oh yeah it bolstered some impressive, nay, astonishing abilities but much to the dismay of its creators they were housed inside the body of a malnourished gentle soul. Who's cowardly demeanor did little inspire confidence or fear. The procedure was a failure and the creation locked away.

..........Until...........Now:

"HOLY SHIT"

Cowering in the corner overrun with fear, the creation did the only thing it could, raised its shaky arm. It stuttered the only phrase it knew, "No more pain, help....no more pain."

@_pantheon_: @_vex_

Is that what I think it is?

Mark was frozen in amazement and horror, he knew that cloning process had not been perfected in humans, let alone new gods. There he was, the Living Apocalypse with skin so slim that you could see the ribs in his body almost breaking through. He looked like Alexis, yet had a different air to him, something familiar and perverse, he couldn't quite put his finger on , the eyes were the same as the Herald of Hope's, except weaker and worn out from countless tortures that he has witnessed his body go through.

What is Quintus planning?

"I'm here to free you, okay, I'm a friend. The Paragon of Perception wasted no time in lying to him, what he was offering wasn't freedom, it was slavery to a mad man, what kind of friend would do that to another friend if his words were true? In truth, at this moment Mark was tempted to put down his unnatural brother before him while he was in weak state to save countless innocent lives, his conscience wouldn't let him, the chance that he might manage to turn into a good person like his genetic father even after the League of Shadows indoctrinated him carved his mind, maybe if he asked to train him he might be able to salvage some of his soul in the process.

If his powers had surfaced it would be best not to provoke him, odds are the clone hadn't developed the control over his abilities yet. Emotional distress or reflexive survival instincts would most likely force a demonstration of his godly prowess which would inevitably result in the Young Knightfall's demise. Therefore, he lifted his hands as if he was trying to tame a beast and moved towards him slowly, trying to avoid any sudden movements. Bones shivered like the children on the streets above dying of hypothermia, he unbuttoned his highly resistant memory cloth cape and placed it over his shoulder.

I should take a sample soon while I can to confirm his DNA, I'm sure that if there are any anomalies Quintus would keep it to himself. As a matter of fact....

"Could you wait for me here for a minute or two?"

Hidden inside his titanium utility was a wire serving as an extension of the mini computer in his belt, he connected it to the computer that he hacked before to open the door for him and accessed their database. The Rapier Witted Techno-Bastard downloaded all of the files labeled "Project Pantheon" into his hard drive for further inspection as a contingency against Quintus and the clone.

"I forgot to ask you. Do you have a name?".

@_nox_: @_pantheon_: (wow)