London England ( CVNU Location)

@nymphixia:

Ophelia blinked at what her old love said, thinking about even as Nyx insulted her choice of clothing. "As if the fursuit was any better..." She thought quietly, deciding sass wasn't exactly a needed element here. "Happy isn't the word to describe it... content, maybe." The ex-hero crossed her arms, not wanting this to turn into something it didn't need to be.

"Hell, maybe not even that, this place- the people are boring, my family has literally no connection with me besides blood and their 'donations', and the most exciting thing that happens from day to day is someone wants to take a picture with the freak with a tail. That's it. That's my 'life' here." Every word came out as sincere as it was annoyed. "But the alternative is putting on a furry outfit, going out in the night and day and fighting prettying much everything with enough ambition to be 'bad', nearly dying in those encounters multiple times a week, and doing things that make me question everything I do."

"Like that time I 'killed myself'... oh wait, she wasn't around for that emotional trauma." The beastling was starting to think that her mind wasn't backing her in this argument considering was memories it was deciding to bring up. "What did I get for doing what I did? A city that thought I was part of the freakshow, a team that all jumped ship in only a few weeks, and..." She stopped her rant for a moment to think about what she was saying, questioning the point of it. ".... and a perfect girlfriend. A perfect girlfriend who disappeared because she was willing do anything to protect me."

@_ophelia_:

Nymphixia tilted her head to the side, swallowing another lump in her throat and blinking the moisture away from her eyes. In all of her years alive, both in Hell and on Earth, she'd never met someone who could... get to her quite the way Ophelia did. It was as frustrating as it was heartbreaking, and having the foxgirl play hot and cold on her after all this time was throwing her on an emotional rollercoaster that she couldn't steer and had no idea how to disembark. She blinked again, a little harder, letting out a ragged breath as one tear sizzled its way down her crimson cheek.

"Where... where do we go, from here?" she forced herself to say around the lump in her throat that wouldn't stop re-forming, chewing the inside of her cheek. Her tail swayed anxiously, requiring active mental effort on Nyx's part not to coil around Lila's waist like it used to. The struggle showed, the appendage squirming back and forth like a possessed junkie.

@nymphixia:

Lila couldn't help but stare at the pained expression on Nyx's face, really wanting to smack herself in the face right then... hating herself for everything she was doing and saying, everything she had done to lead them here. She tried convincing herself it wasn't her fault, that she was completely justified in what she did, but every emotion she was feeling right mas as well of been saying "You were wrong, f#ck you!"... watching a tear sizzle down her former lover's crimson cheek pushed her past whatever rationality was trying to form in her head, pushing herself forward to embrace Nyx again.

Every piece of her mind, ever memory and every thought, was telling her there wasn't a happy ending here and that she should just cut it off now... but she couldn't. She couldn't sit there and go on a f#cking rant, after what they had both been through, and just be done with it. Pushing herself closer to the demigoddess, a heavy breath forcing it's way out of her as she tried her best to comfort the scarlet beauty, desperately looking for something to say. "I-... I don't know. All I know is that we can't go back." She said through more tears, knowing full well she was dragging this painfully out, but being unable to stop herself as she leaned in for another kiss. She hated herself for the mixed signals she was sending, but she needed this... she needs contact, she needs to bring back any old feelings... she needed to feel before she could think.

I feel like writing something, so I guess I'll write and see what happens.

As the soldier hands the girl off, he backs away and looks at her. Not giving her any sort of verbal response.

"I can't f***ing believe this b*****."

"She's smart....I'll give her that."

"I know what I'd like to give her."

"I hope keep her contained. They always try to put some of them in a school or have them go off and cause millions in collaterial damage. Make all of our taxes go a little higher."

"If she shows up again, we'll deal with it. We'll make more money anyway and we can just pin the blame on them."

"That's the damn thing. I don't want this to happen again."

They watch her leave, guns lowered not wishing to retaliate. It wasn't worth the risk, as there will be plenty of other oppertunities.

----

A crowd watched from a distance now, not wanting to be near as they saw him struggle and push against the field, one hand slowly getting through. He was lost now in his own fury and he did not feel any ailment of flesh, he only felt the rush that norse warrior of old had felt. The men among him named this state of Pax aptly him "going beserk."

His strength had increased, or more, was more unrestrained, as was his speed. It was not that he was more durable, more, he didn't care about pain. His flesh boiled as the force of the field hit him, some of it actually being absorbed by what remained of the armor. The involuntary muscular movement would soon be overcome however as he in fail swoop escaped the field bursting from it and falling to the ground.

One hand was up as he gripped the top of a car to pull himself up and spat a crimson fluid from his mouth, the vehicle having a dent in it from his grip. He looked about now, inhaling deeply as he now had caught the scent of the one who had defeated him, humilitated him. His helmet buzzed with data and he ripped it off.

He did not know her name yet, but it didn't matter.

He thrust up, propelled by explosive legs as he went forth in a fury. People parted like the red sea before the giant's charge as he sprinted by at inhumanely fast speeds, lightning quick legs propelling him at speeds comparable to that a car or of Maverick's other super soldiers. Still, he kept a surprising amount of intelligence. He smacked lighter objects away and jumped over larger things like cars as if they were hurdles. Until he used one as a stepping stone and lept up off it, crushing it as he sprints up the wall into a climb, dissappearing on the rooftops as the general populace only looks at the destruction in his wakes.

It took pax around a few minutes to cover a few miles, including manuevring past or through whatever was in his way. The men had been caught off guard as Pax came sprinting by where Abigail had left to go. However, he was too late, as he saw the craft take off.

He watched from the ground as the craft took off, and for now, his opponent would leave him unavenged. His dirty, unkempt blonde hair flowed behind him as he looked upon the craft with clench fists, and roared at it. Not a sound like any beast in the form of an animal, but a beast in the form of a man. It could be heard for miles.

He felt something snag on his arm, and saw it was a rope of carbon nanotube fiber rope, tied to a train car and adhered with Van-Der Waals force. The next one coming for his other arm he caught, but it stuck to his hand, like a selective glue. He pulled on the cords attached to train cars, but hardly could hope to break them. They could withstand pulling force in the thousands of tons before they actually would begin to yield.

"Now now, calm down." He saw a redheaded female, uncloak in front of him as he leaned in closer, bearing his teeth and ripping to rip her throat out as he growled at her. "She's gone. And we'll use this to improve, right? Besides. You may get your chance."

This woman, Moya, looks off towards the craft as it dissappears from view eventually.

"Later."

"Name." Pax said.

"Hmmm...?" She inquires

"What. Is. Her. Name?"

"Aensland. Abigail Aensland."

He calmed down now, regaining himself, in contemplation, as this newfound information bounced in his head.

"Abigail..." He mutters lowly to himself. As more men come, and more aircraft. They dissappeared soon after. There will be other jobs, other oppertunities. This world is unstable and filled with chaos, which in turn causes fear.

This is but one battle losted, for it is not a matter of "if" they will be called on, but a matter of when and where.

He's one of my favorite writers these days, with some of my favorite characters.

@_ophelia_:

A nimbus of soft violet light began to emanate from the hellion when her lips met Lila's again, holding on for dear life. Her heart burned with infernal passion, the outline of her ribs visible against her body, blocking small amounts of the light from within that was lighting Nyx up like a nightlight. Her tail coiled instinctively around her old lover's waist, squeezing her gently. In that moment she forgot, managed to let go of the pain she had felt and embrace the moment, pretend that there wasn't anything wrong, pretend Lila didn't blame her for going, pretend their relationship wasn't on a timer. She just kissed the foxgirl, black-nailed fingers kneading into the other woman's shoulderblades desperately as she pushed closer, wordless, breathless.

Descending stone steps into the tunnel. A deep, dark hole in terms of human spirit. The location itself wasn't necessarily evil, but The Grey Market certainly did hold items possessing malignant properties.

Avery Bullock, the Deputy Director of the CIA, shouldn't be seen down there. Anyone of his status, regardless of the don't ask don't tell nature of the market, shouldn't be caught dead in such a location, due to the aforementioned malevolent wares that were sold down there, and the unsavoury characters that would come to purchase and sell said items.

It was fortunate, then, that Bullock wouldn't be seen. In his place stood another man, one unfamiliar to anyone, and yet, it was Bullock who had come to the market. This was thanks to the diffusion cloak technology built into the fabric of his expensive suit. Diffusion Cloak tech made anyone looking at the wearer see something else, something that they expected or wouldn't be surprised by, by literally reading the surrounding people and generating the mathematical average of the people in the area. If Bullock had chosen to attend a poorhouse, then Bullock would have appeared to be a lowly homeless man. If Bullock were to have attended a Woman's lib rally, Bullock would have appeared to be a woman.

The technology was so convincing, that if one of the bystanders were to reach out and touch Bullock, seeking a non-existent mustache or perky breast, that the brain would register as feeling it, because of light rays that, while registered by the brain, can't be registered by the human mind. These light rays repeat in patterns that make the viewer more suggestible, making them feel the object that isn't actually there.

Bullock didn't always wear the Diffusion Cloak; no, only on trips to the field. This was a place where he did need it. Normally this business was to be left to expendable agents. This matter was of the utmost importance, and so Bullock was here himself. He was here to find Dr. James Gordon Crane, and by god he would.

@avery_bullock:

"And by god I will!" Creed skipped down the stone steps with the perkiness of a tourist, which he sorta was. Dr.James Gordon Crane has been a busy man, busy enough to be worth a few million for his life. "God I love scientist jobs, they're SO hammy! Doing the whole rant about some famous dead dude saying stuff about human nature. A bullet pacifier solves that real quick." The merc didn't come unprepared. Under his jacket and recently bought Union Jack T-shirt was twin silenced 9MM pistols, ready to silence this easy money as soon as he was in sights.

"Come on doc, make things interesting."

@_creed_: (Sorry, can't reply right now, will get back as soon as I can)

@gideon_ames:

She'd donned a pale purple sundress for the day, one of her favorites. It had been a gift to her from Nyssa when they'd left one of the many bases that Rosalie had come to call home. Everybody knew, the quickest way to Rosalie's heart and the fastest way to apologize to her for any transgression was through a well-meant apology...and a new dress. It was information that she exploited on occasion, simply because dresses truly did brighten her spirit.

The one that she had chosen today had delicate lace overlaying the skirt, a skirt which had body to it and flounced around her thighs whenever she walked. It was a dress that was made for spinning, and she could often be found outside doing just that instead of the drills and exercises that had been assigned to her for the day.

Today she had chosen to amuse herself with Gideon. He was always so staunch, so stern, so stoic. She never truly saw him smile. In ungaurded moments she could catch a glimmer of something approximating bemusement, but mostly his dark features were just stoic. Or he would pull his brows together in that way he did when he was concentrating on a target, only his gaze would be directed at her, and she would feel like a bug beneath a microscope.

He'd been different with her lately, and she still couldn't put her finger on why. But she had every intention of pushing every button she knew that he had until he broke.

She'd sneaked in behind him as he entered the shooting range, moving with the preternatural silence that she had been capable of since childhood. It was as if the earth itself shielded her movements, protected her from prying eyes and sharpened senses in a bid to keep her safe. He'd never been able to detect her until she allowed it, and always always she used that to her advantage.

Oh, it was serious? she thought to herself. He was always serious. So so serious. No fun allowed in the world of Gideon. No, that would be a cardinal sin, wouldn't it?

She stayed in the shadows behind him and to his left, watching with rapt attention as he focused, and grinning as she could see him concentrating, or attempting to.

He fired and she grinned devilishly, the dimple in the corner of her cheek showing as she did so. The bullet was traveling fast and true, and she took one moment to admire the way that he had perfected his craft. And then...she tried out a new technique she had been waiting to use.

The bullet was centimeters away from the target, and utilizing perfect timing, Rosalie waggled the delicate fingers of one hand, knowing that somehow....in some way that her genius intellect had yet to comprehend, the laws of nature would obey her.

A breath away from hitting the center of the target, the bullet simply lost momentum and dropped from the air. There was no extra recoil to the gun to give away that she had planned to do anything, which was by design with the intent to let him think that he would make it through this session unscathed.

She didn't bother to suppress the giggle that would freely give her away as she watched the look of confusion and frustration come over his face. She could practically hear the grown.

@gideon_ames:

Rosalie got ready to step into the warm embrace of his hug, her face lighting up. And when it didn’t come, her expression fell for a moment, a brief darkness crossing over her eyes. A momentary glower before she quickly fell back into a contagiously happy expression, the one that was so genuine to her personality.

He didn’t want to be near her? That was fine. He could be lonely and cold and miserable. But she didn’t know what she’d done wrong, and that tugged at her.

Some part of her wished that she could leave him to that, that there was something in her that was cold enough to do so. But the strongest part of her core being was the part that just wanted to see smiles on the faces of those she called family.

“Aye, I’m not a child,” she affirmed in a perfect imitation of his accent. It was one of many abilities she’d picked up through her life, and one that Nyssa had helped her refine. She could seamlessly pick up dialects and accents, allowing her to blend her voice with any location, and allowing her to have fun such as this.

“And the two aren’t mutually exclusive, You’re all so intent on being big macho men that you forget to let yourselves have any fun. I refuse to be as lame and boring as that,” she scoffed, tossing a look over her shoulder as she walked over to the wall of arms. “I didn’t leave one reality just to die of boredom in the next.”

She lifted the Cerberus firearm that had been designed specifically for her, with custom grips that allowed the weapon to fit into her palm seamlessly. She keyed in several codes on the pad and waited while the tiles of the walls emerged from the concrete and shifted, painting the room to look as if they were in the middle of a city.

Rosalie was an expert at urban warfare. There was nobody who could slip into a city and move as seamlessly as she did. Not even Maria, who had been a world-renowned thief. She ejected the magazine and checked it before sliding it back into place, pulling back the slide and chambering a round without bothering to so much as look at Gideon.

She hadn’t programmed a fully immersive scene, in which the entire room would shift around them and life-like hard-light projections would display. Instead, she would be aiming for on-screen projections positioned around the room, appearing at random intervals.

She rolled her shoulders, causing the skirt of the dress to billow slightly as she verbally commanded the program to begin.

After ensuring that Gideon was out of range, she moved with an almost preternatural flurry of speed, tracking new targets as they appeared as she aimed the weapon and pulled the trigger. Her mind was able to process and compute and perceive at such elevated speeds that in instances such as this, it displayed almost as some form of precognition.

After hitting varying shots - head, shoulder, center mass, leg - until her gun clicked empty, Rosalie removed the empty magazine. She then proceeded to spin the gun around her finger, pull it to a stop and blow imaginary smoke from the barrel before quickly stripping, cleaning, and replacing it, just the way that Gideon had taught her ages ago.

It had been less than four minutes.

“Sorry, you were saying? I believe that fulfills my 'practice shooting' part of the ultimatum you set down for me. Am I allowed to go back to annoying you now or am I just supposed to die of boredom?" She pouted for effect at the last sentence, batting her eyelashes in an exaggeratedly innocent manner.

@gideon_ames:

Her eyes narrowed as he paused speaking, keying in on his facial expression as he did so. There was something different, some glimmer of...something. She couldn't figure it out, but she was learning that she very sorely wanted to. "It seems that you're having trouble discerning concepts that are mutually exclusive and those that are not. I would never besmirch your productiveness; but it doesn't make you any less of a boring macho man," she asserted as she wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue.

"No," she denied, mischief filing her expression. "Frag hatchbacks. i wanna be the sleek 'Vette on the road full of big lorries."

The deal he offered was one of the most tantalizing that she'd ever heard, and her eyes narrowed as she focused on his hair, which led her to the shape of his jaw, which led her straight to his predatory hazel eyes. She shivered, her blood going hot and then cold before she looked away. "Deal....but I get to put flowers in those pretty pretty braids."

"Also," she added, "it's not 'hocus pocus'." On this she was adamant. She didn't know just what it was...but her mind rebelled at the thought of it being referred to as such.

She retrieved her firearm once again, and went through the motions checking it and re-checking it, just as she'd been taught. "Field 11," she ordered the AI. It would set varying targets at varying heights at the end of the range. Relatively standard as far as the setups this room had could go.

Holding up one hand, she wiggled her fingers before placing resting her arm behind her back, braced just above the curve of her buttocks. Nodding to Gideon, he cued the timer to begin as soon as she was reading. Bringing up the weapon, taking a moment to test its weight and acclimate her hold, she nodded to him again, indicating for him to begin the timer.

Fire...fire....fire....fire, again and again, ll rounds fired with extreme skill and precision, aided with a healthy dose of speed. She didn't blink once as she fired, and failed to jerk from either sound or the minute recoil the specially designed firearm had. Placing her weapon down on the table towards the back of the room, Rosalie took a long, slow look at Gideon before she walked down to the targets and began expecting.

The life-size dummies were made of a polymer silicone blend that allowed bullets to shoot into them, but not fully through, in order to judge what would be a killing strike versus a non-mortal blow. All of hers hit within the small three-inch circle painted in the center of the chest.

Or at least she believed they had. With a smug expression on her face, and a taunt on her lips, she walked down to the final dummy target, only to narrow her eyes and frown as she saw that a smaller target had been hidden behind it. She was about to argue, to insist that that particular target had never been a part of Field 11, but that was the entire point, wasn't it? You never knew what to expect in the field, even when you believed that you did. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her displeasure, at least not by arguing with him on technicalities.

With both hands on her hips she turned around and eyed him up and down, one eyebrow arched for effect. "You win...this time."

@gideon_ames:

"You were unsure for a moment, don't think that I didn't hear that," she insisted, a devilish grin on her face as she did so.

"I just want it on record that you admitted to being macho and paid me a compliment at the same time. Almost unheard of." She caught his smile and it warmed her, as they were so rare these days. It wasn't lost on her, and her heart softened as she beamed back at him with unrestrained joy and happiness clearly evident on her face.

"Would it be mean to take that offer of it being on you and say that I want to go on a shopping spree the likes of which has never been seen before?" she asked as she cleaned her weapon with quick expertise and replaced it on the wall.

She straightened the hem of her skirt after slipping a dagger into the garter high on her thigh and grinned at him again. "Ice cream, I want ice cream. Did you know that the last time I had ice cream was when I was a little kid? Everybody needs ice cream," she insisted. "We need to go to Murphy's. Riley says that they have the best ice cream she's ever had and she's the connoisseur. I've never met a woman who can put away as much as she does and not gain a freaking pound."

---

The sun was at its highest point and the weather was unseasonably warm for the day, where even with a slight breeze, she felt no need for a sweater over the shoulders that her dress left mostly bare.

She'd left her hair down, streaming around her face in loose waves, and now it billowed in the gentle breeze. She paid it no mind as she soaked in the sun. She loved all weather equally, and the extremes of it more than the rest, but there was no person alive who loved the sun more than Cassidy O'Rourke. Even now as Rosalie and Gideon traipsed through the streets of Dublin, she was sure that Cass was out sunning herself by the pool.

"Here it is," she said pointing to the blue shopfront and the sign hanging above it, as she instinctively reached out to grab his hand and drag him along with her. Inside was a cool, ice cream paradise, and some of the most interesting flavors she'd scoped out.

@gideon_ames:

She tugged his hand and pulled him along the streets, darting in and out of pedestrian traffic as she made her way towards that ice cream shop.

"Come on," she urged, pulling him in behind her.

There was a small line mulling in front of the counter as people looked over the menus and perused the glass-front counters that showed off the tubs of homemade ice cream behind them. Her eyes widened in wonderment as she saw all of them.

Rosalie let go of his hand as she went to stand in front of it, turning options over and over in her head. Chocolate was always a favorite of hers, but she wanted to branch out and explore, to differ from her usual. As soon as that thought went through her head unbidden she grinned and dashed a glance over at Gideon, who couldn't look more uncomfortable and out of place.

She narrowed her eyes and shot him a playfully disapproving look. She'd bring fun into his life even if she had to force him to comply with it. It was in his best interests, honestly.

"Can I have a bowl of the handmade chocolate chip with hot fudge, whipped cream, and sprinkles?" she asked pleasantly as soon as it was her turn in line.

"Aye, lass, and that'll be it?"

"One of the Kerry cream vanilla, too, please."

As soon as she was cashed out, she walked over to the counter to wait for the two bowls to be served, and as soon as they were she shot an infectious smile at the server, grabbed them, and strode out of the shop, with Gideon in her wake.

There were tables lined up on the street for any who wanted to partake in the frozen confections at a leisurely pace, but Rosalie wanted to walk, to take in the city.

She dug the plastic spoon into the ice cream and took a long, savory bite, closing her eyes and humming quietly as she did so. The flavors mingled, the rich chocolate, the sweet cream, the warm fudge, all coalescing together on her tongue. It was perfection.

Immediately she opened her eyes and looked over to Gideon as they strode through the light crowds on the city sidewalks. He was looking down at his ice cream, almost confused. Had it really been so long since he'd had simple joys in his life?

"Do you need somebody to show you?" she asked sarcastically as she nudged him lightly. Reaching over, she dipped her spoon in and took another lingering bite of ice cream. "If you don't eat that, I'm going to, and then it's going to be your fault that I have a stomachache for overindulging, just so you know," she warned as she dug into hers again, all while keeping her eyes peeled for possible new trinkets in shop windows.

@orpheus_knightfall ( since you didn't say what other account to add, Just @reply me so i know for next round)

This place was something of an urban legend in the grand old city. A bloody uncurrent deep in the bowels of the financial district an ancient battleground for men to fight for honor, to settle grudges and end feuds once and for all. Legend rumoured of a right to gain an invitation but Cassius was never a man for ancient sentiment it was simply a location a place to fight and he was a fighter a dam good one and that alone should warrant him a pass. Following tone tradition however he walked up to the unassuming door clothed in a suit. His mask weapons and armour left safely in a hidden location nearby incase things went south.

"Good afternoon, I'am here to fight"

"Your offering"

Rolling up his sleeves revealing the battered flesh below his forearms riddled with scar tissue along the rippled muscle. " I offer only two things the right or the left. I don't care which or who is at the end"

A small almost impressed nod followed as the security guard reached from his holster to the door and let the lone Knightfall pass. A cold dank air striking Cassius face as he descended towards the arena deep below the city. Walking ever downwards past tube lines water pipes until they reached an ancient stone wall. Met at the bottom of the stairs by a simple sign.

No personal weapons

No armour

No technology

No holds barred

Fight with honor or die with none.

Walking past the sign and through a small ground Cassius approached a small set of stairs standing at the top of them and calling out into the room.

"Who's next?"

@orpheus_knightfall: (No problem)

Cassius smirked as his opponent walked over. He looked in good shape seemed confident in himself and was maybe the slightly larger of the two fighters. Size wasnt an issue for the lone Knightfall, he was and remained a man without the fear of a fight. In truth he revealed in it. Some people are trained to fight, others are simply breed and he was the later. Watching as his opponent prepared himself and started to mouth off. He remained quiet for now and without hesitation without a slight clue of his intention stepped forward bowed his head and as his body rose his instincts came to life.

One foot shifting in front of the over, his hips rotating and his forearm shooting violently at his targets adams apple. Cassius momentum fully utilized as each and every ounce of his body span, channeling its force to the point of his elbow as it crossed from his left to right side. If his opponent was really so crazy as to offer a free shot his mistake would be regretted instantly. As his rotation came to an end the lone knightfall fired a knee toward his opponents diaphragm, an exclamation point should his first strike be unhindered. His opponent would taste the brutal flavor of airless lungs should he not be able to handle Cassius's assault.

@orpheus_knightfall:

Cassius knee suddenly jarred as his opponent absorbed the momentum of his strike, a good catch. Perhaps this man would be a test after all. His momentum rapidly redirected towards the floor. Pulling his hands up to dampen his fall out of pure instinct the collision rattled through him but the force of the impact merely causing a moment of breathlessness before the downed Knightfall rolled and pulled himself back to his feet. Back on his toes Cassius heard the sound of the air wrapping around his opponents freshly acquired weapon the rusted metal bar casting a looming shadow giving him time to shift and prepare. Moving to side and flowing with the strikes momentum capturing the pole between his hip and his left arm. A blow of savage proportions reduced to nothing but a bruise maker. Something that would sting later once the swelling had kicked in. Pushing his weight down on the bar making any further movement of the weapon much harder.

"What's the matter already on the ropes?"

The two fighters clamped momentary in an embrace separated by the length of the rusted bar, before Cassius left his actions to do the talking for him. Pushing forward the pole still kept clamped at his side advancing and then springing into action. His opponent's grip would be tested should he not release the weapon. Keeping the weapon held tight Cassius suddenly threw his body weight to the left rotating his body around as he held the pole tightly. Landing firmly on his feet and turning instantly, maximising the most of his rotating force to pull the weapon from his opponents hands or at the very least jar his shoulder. Firing his right hand at his opponent's solar plexus with brutal intent to try and add to his opponent's potential woes.

Bumping for future use.

Deep within the catacombs beneath the Museum of Ancient Cultures and the Occult, Rezurrection was at work. A delirious man was latched upside down to the ceiling by metal chains. A sacrificial stone blade was drawn across the victim’s neck, veins bulging from the position. The knife cut through like fat on a pig, blood spurting and spattering down into a tough below, gurgling erupting from the whitening figure as he hung. The red liquid gathered in the scrying pool of the Nefarious Necromancer until he could see his undead reflection in its red glare. With an incantation and a wave of his pallid palm, the Morbid Mage saw the ripples take the shape of a man, or rather one with the appearance of a man. He was in London. Another possible candidate for the Rimefrost Society. There was only left to send his associate to his location.

Stepping out of a portal of white light, Allure placed his hands on his hips. His eyes moved behind his designer sunglasses at the urban environment. A needle in a damn haystack. His lids closed, his finger activating the crystal upon it to allow him to map telepathically his direction. There was a mind not like the others. A suave smile spread across his pristine features. Gotcha. Walking up to the man, he stood beside him. “Lord Garian, isn’t it?”

@lord_garian

@allure_: Seeing the man, although not recognizing him, he turned to survey him.

"That would be correct. Who, and what, are you?" Lord garian questioned looking him over, something just didn't seem normal with this one. Then again. There were so many he met who were not normal. He needn't put his hand on Nex, it'd be out in a moment if he needed it.

@lord_garian:

His American accent would be only slightly out of place for such a diverse city. His smile widened, his posture exuding an uncertain charm as he instinctually radiated emotions of pleasantness to relieve any feeling of hostility towards him. The blonde chuckled and clicked his tongue as he removed his sunglasses revealing vibrant amethyst eyes. “What am I? Now, some would consider that rude, particularly for a first date.” He winked. “My name is Chris Frost. And I’ve come to see if you’re the sort of man that should be assimilated into a society of which I am apart. Perhaps we could talk in a nearby cafe over drinks? Anyone could be listening in, and this is something I’d prefer to just be in between us for now. But don’t worry, Lord Garian. I won’t bite. Your value to my organization makes you quite safe.”

@allure_:

Lord garian could feel something not from himself trying to influence his empotions. Nevertheless, this man seemed harmless enough. Seemed.

"You're very odd, sir." He said, "But very well. Lead on Mr. Frost."

@lord_garian:

Allure chuckled. "I'm odd? You really could use a drink. Loosen you up a bit." He grinned and waved for the man to follow. The empath lead his companion into an Italian restaurant. Per usual London accommodation, the place was small. A waiter showed them to a table for two, placing out drink menu. Chris ordered a glass of cabernet right away before leaning back leisurely in his seat to commence his true purpose.

"Well, Lord Garian. Thank you for acquiescing to my preference to meet here. Now I feel like I can speak with more freedom." His thumb fiddled with a ring on his finger, violet eyes fixed on the man across from him. "I'm a part of an organization called the Rimefrost Society. It's an order of people at the highest ranks of influence in this world. For whatever reason, you showed up on my associates' radar. Our mission isn't quite simple. We are devoted to the acquisition and securing of power. Our reach spans the globe through various businesses and social structures. It makes for a very convenient network of elite world-shakers." His drink came. Allure sat up to take it in his hand, swirling it around under his nose before taking a sip. "I was sent to you to determine if you are in fact worth our time. So, if we were to extend a membership to you, what could you offer us in return?"

@allure_:

Before answering Garian thought for a moment and ordered a red wine. It was an interesting idea to be sure. It didn't seen as though it could hinder him much.

"What do you need?" Garian questioned, "I have resources of any kind, magic, technology, scientific, money, influence. But I suppose you'd already have plenty of that. However, if you have warriors I may be able to supply better ones or enhance the ones you have. Now I must ask a question, what are your rules? If I am to join I must know my limitations."

@lord_garian:

Pursing his lips, the psychic vampire stared across at him. "Our rules are loyalty, relevance, and results. As a member, you would answer to the four monarchies. Tell me more about your resources and about yourself." Chris ran a finger around the rim of his glass, analyzing the body language as well as the words spoken to him. There was something a bit off about this one, something Allure didn't quite trust, though he couldn't be sure without further investigation.

@allure_:

Garian recieved his wine sipping it a little at a time, savoring it. He watched, the man must be an empath. Alright, I'm human...or at least from all tested ways I'm human. I'm known as the dragon warrior prime. If you didn't know about them already they're mostly human but have always been turned past human in order to fight any threat. I'm known as such because I'm the best of them, the first was part vampire so his speed and such were immensely increased, but I still passed him. I own the planet Vacatio fully, it's rather prosperous and is extremely helpful for transportation and resources. I stope Nex from my teacher, Nex is my sword. She's very powerful and assists me in anything I might need from her. I'm a strategist and a manipulator of public opinion. It may take a while to list my powers as they are rather various so I'll just name other things. While I do misdirect and may lie to the public if necessary, I will keep my word especially in private matters. Legally if someone were to assassinate or assault me they'd be commiting a crime and would be in a very bad light. Owning a planet of my own I could argue for diplomatic immunity anywhere. Another thing, I'm not one to joke around. Now I'd like to know who are the four monarchies?"

This time the wine glass floated up to his mouth for him to sip.

"So, who are they?"

@lord_garian:

His lids narrowed as his brows furrowed. There was a lot of information here, some of it seemed too grand to be true. Very few super geniuses have been able to conceptualize interstellar space travel. Stark. Xenon. Andres. But in all such technology remained elusive from the governments of the world. In some ways, this was useful to the Rimefrost purpose. The fewer people traveling from beyond our solar system, the less likely our little blue planet would garner interest from more advanced alien civilizations, the less likely it was to be invaded. But this man not only traveled beyond, he owned another planet. His allegiance was less certain. Tested as a human? What if he wasn't terrestrial at all? Allure noted the display of apparent telekinesis. Finishing his wine, the club owner set it back onto the table, fiddling with its base.

"So, are you a terrestrial, human vampire? Tell me more about your strain. Such lineage is of importance to my kin. When you say 'beyond,' what precisely do you mean; what are the qualities of these 'Dragon Warriors?' Earth itself is not advanced enough to my knowledge to be diplomatically aware of other alien races. Extraterrestrials have been found here, but they are from civilizations that are more advanced than ours as a whole. Yet you have happened upon a planet? Pardon if I sound incredulous." Chris raised a pale finger. "Another question. Just how old are you to accomplish so much?"

He paused before continuing about the society. His heart was heavy with the emotions of the place. Unlike most people who were overwhelmed by such feelings, they were invigorating to the psy-vampire as he leached them from the room. A waitress came by the table asking about further orders. Allure looked up at her with a beaming smile as he sense a discrepancy in her demeanor from the aura of pleasantness he radiated. "Hey, girl. That's alright. You don't need to stop by our table." As her hand rested upon the surface, the empath's fingers passed over hers. She was stressed, unhappy. With a gentle rub of his thumb, he pulsed feelings of warmth and satisfaction, an influx of serotonin into her taxed system. "We're just talking here. We'll summon you when we're done, okay?" Her lips curled into a saccharine grin as she thanked the handsome man and made her way to the next table, her mood improved. Allure leaned back in his chair, his fingers lacing together.

"The Monarchs, the Rimefrost Royalty are the titular leaders of the Rimefrost Society, the peak of the elite, those who have shown great leadership in this world and are capable of promotion our agendas. Each are given a power ring, of my own making." He placed a hand over his chest with pride. "More of a symbolic thing than anything of immense value. Each has a little perk corresponding to four elements defining their station: Monarchy of Water, of Earth, of Fire, and of Air. Our foremost leader is the Ivory Imperial, the White Queen Dr. Alexandra Steele. She is a world-renown mutant psychiatrist, omega grade and descended from our founders. Should I consider you an eligible candidate, I will make you a trial member, granting you a ring of passing which provides access to our pocket dimension. Any other questions, Lord Darian?"

@allure_:

Garian thought about it again, "No, the trial should be sufficient for further inquires. As to your questions, I believe myself to be human. I am certainly a terrestrial. I was born here. The dragon warriors are trained most commonly in duel diamond swords. Jian swords I think most of the time but it changes. They're generally human, as I said, but are trained in such a way they seem super human. Enough speed to dodge snipers and multiple machine guns. My father found the planet and bought some of it. I just continued. With some of the wealthier ones being very violent it was easy to make it appaear that I was their savior. My age, I'm thirty-seven. However with magic, possibly from Nex or another source. I could undoubtedly increase my lifespan.

@lord_garian: (I might not respond to this today, I'm feeling apathetic and sick right now. >_<)

@the_psyentist: (That's okay. Hope you feel better :) )

@lord_garian: (Thank you. ^__^)

@the_psyentist: (of course! :)

@lord_garian:

Allure snickered and clicked his tongue. “Well, damn. Near half my age. I guess there goes any chance of getting with you. But of course, that sounds interesting enough.” He reached a hand into his trousers’ pocket and pulled out a silver ring. It was placed upon the table and moved across toward Garian with a finger, the glowing purple gem now especially evident on his own finger. “This ring is the key. Go to any of the Rimefrost branches, and you will be lead to a portal. The quantum entanglement mumbo-jumbo means this ring must be on your person before you enter it or your likely to not end up in the right place in the right order. It’s a nice defense for our little pocket dimension. If you are rejected as an applicant, you will be expected to give back the ring. Don’t lose it, destroy it, or let anyone else borrow it. It’s quite impossible to replicate, I’ve made it myself using my own abilities. Sound simple enough, Lord Garian?”

@allure_:

Garian looked him over. He still seemed rather odd. He lifted the ring looking it over.

"I still am...ill at ease, near you. But the rest is quite agreeable. I'll keep it quite safe," garian said. Instead of putting it on his finger he held it to the bottom of his swords hilt and it seemed to absorb it. Leaving the top part of the ring in view, "Should I wear it, or will holding my sword be enough?"

@lord_garian:

Allure leaned forward on his palm. "Keep drinking that wine, Lord Garian." He marvelled at how such an apparently powerful individual could be so dense. "I'm an empath, handsome. I can make you feel anything if you're open to the experience." His warm, amethyst eyes watched the ring's absorption, his brow arching. "Well, I suppose the sword will do. Just keep it in your hand for the passing."

@allure_:

Garian took another sip, "Which is why I don't allow myself to be. I don't like anyone attempting to toy with my emotions. And last time someone tried that, they lost their mind." Garian took another look at the ring, it was rather nice and would be difficult to lose,

"I'm ill at ease because I can sense it. Just like a telepathic attack. But currently, especially with Nex, I am immune." Garian explained, "I suppose that will be all, then. Unless there is something else I need to do or be told."

Garian stood up finishing the wine and dropping a few gold coims on the table.

@lord_garian:

It was not widely known that Allure was a mutant, so no displays of power were evident. Though the jewels about his fingers and neck made him a force to be reckoned with. There was a quiet calmness about him as those about him were subtly controlled. He raised his hands with a charming smile. “No, I think that will be all, Lord Garian. Thank you for your time.”

Hailing the waitress to him, he had another glass of wine brought to him. Picking up the golden coins he smirked. “Who the hell leaves gold coins in London?” He took out his wallet and pulled out the price in British Sterling Pounds which was relinquished to the woman. Plus a generous tip. He’d stay a little longer, enjoy his wine and the soothing atmosphere he had created for the patrons.

@allure_:

(OOC: that was awsome! See you later! Thanks!:)

(Bump. Wanna make sure this doesn't go away...I also want to use Garian)

Garian walked through the streets searching. He wasn't exactly sure what for. But something was different. His eyes flashed back and forth looking for someone or something out of place.

@arquitenens

Aensland Estate

It had been months since then, when her powers activated. It'd always been the type of thing she saw on TV and well, she knew of mutants. Metahumans. Superhumans. Powers didn't make you evil, right? You could use them to do anything you wanted, it's just, a lot of people were determined to not use them for the sake of good. She thought that she would be in a sense, different. That, if that ever happened to her, chance in a million as it may have been, she'd use them to do nothing but good. However, so far, all she's done in go on an accidental rampage while fleeing from a private military corporation, killing off men who'd done nothing more than seemingly their own jobs, and a times, it had seemed best for her to just turn herself in, rather than face friends, god forbid her own parents and family. Tales run rampant of parents disowning children who have such power, abandoning them or...worse.

So, she sought to remain here, with one of her saviors (The nicer one of the two) who'd she had come to know as "Abigail Aensland." She knew of her as one of the wealthier families of the area and a local vigilante and "hero" who hailed from the area. She was seemingly one of the few who remained active, there seemingly being a trend of decline as this "Maverick" showed up and appeared in every facet of people's lives. However, as she'd seen, they seemed corruptible, questionable and cold. Ruthless. Notorious for seemingly killing hundreds of mutants. Destructive mutants. People like her, but different. This power she had however, bubbling inside, it could be contained. She had no idea how this device on her wrist worked but, it worked. As a result of it this, it did. This woman had come to make her feel...normal again.

So she stayed, with her and primarily, her Butler, Alastair. Who seemed better a choice then someone who had this kind of wealth, who'd seemingly kept this corporation at bay when they apparently had her guns and all. And she didn't kill one of them. Not one. Who was this woman? This kind lady who seemed a something like a flicker of light in the darkness. Who seemed human and yet, who wasn't selfish.

Close to dinner, she walked long the halls of the manner. It was a nice place. Many thoughts often circulated the young girl's mind. Between her almost, at this point, self driven studies. Particle physics circulated in her mind ever since she'd come to use her abilities and even, had...come to like them. She was eager to use them, and to use them to do right. To try to go against a world that was so wrong. But she was confined to this house, and even then, she had no knowledge of true, war. Sure, a few disagreements at school here and there. A bit of tugging of hair and scratching with nails. But. This was nothing like that. At this point, the world seemed at war, and there was little hesitation to deal with children. This she knew. And yet still, she wanted to go out there irregardless.

But for now, it was time for dinner and she'd stopped. Observing a few of the paintings of the area, of this immense house that she herself owned. A house like this and yet, she goes out to war with the world from what she'd heard, and from what she'd seen. She didn't yet, know her well, but something had told her she wasn't like the typical rich person, but it's been some time since they'd last spoken.

The door to the dining room creaked open as she stepped in and shut it behind herself. She looked around the room, before she decided to take a seat. Eyes scanning for a single particular soul.

@soliton: Sorry no visual aid on such a long post with so many unfamiliar details. I'm on a slow connection so loading images takes time I didn't feel like waiting.

Aensland's black stretch limousine rolled through the slowly opening gate onto the family's ancestral property. Abigail sat, alone, in the back. For so long she'd spent most hours of every day flanked on every side by her "brothers in shadow." It felt almost unnatural to have such solitude. But, as much as she could, she savoured the solitude afforded and extended by the mile-long path from the gate to the home. Eyes closed, she let her head lay back, minding not the landscapers' immaculate work with the lawn and shrubbery.

Here she was. Home after months abroad. But...relax? How could she? After everything that happened, how could she? Abigail Aensland's homecoming was a far cry from the grand triumph she hoped when last she left. No, it was the opposite. Her life was a monumental failure and she returned home like a wounded wolf, tail tucked, to retire and lick her wounds. Indefinitely.

Everything she set out to do, she failed.

Reform the League? Only in Nikademus - one man out of her entire legion, an outsider at that, could she place her unmitigated trust. And he'd not been seen nor heard after Black House, leaving her unwilling to pass on her title just as she was unwilling to keep it; but the unscrupulous would sense opportunity one way or another.

Free Gothic, and the world, from Satar and the Brahma Brotherhood? She couldn't possibly consider those events success.

Perhaps worst of of all, she returned to the familiar faces of friends and practical family without mother. She pictured their faces, hope fading into dejection, as Abigail Aensland returned alone. Mum and dad's colleagues would get word of her return and ask how her "adventures" (spat with the utmost condescension, of course) went, knowing full-well the answer.

And then there was the eye.

The limo pulled to a halt and Abigail exited herself, meeting the driver midway to her. Nodding a silent thanks, she waved him inside. As if the inhabitants were alerted by some extranormal means, the door to the home opened ahead of her approach and Alastair greeted her with a smile.

"Good day, Miss Aensland. You're back just in time."

He never missed a beat. No hesitation or uncertainty in his voice or his manner.

Abby returned the greeting with an ersatz smile of her own and a rub on his bald head in place of a hug. "Alastair you rat bastard!" she giggled, striding past him. "You're not even going to ask? Some caretaker you are! I am hurt."

"Please, I think you look good with one eye!" He started after her. "As a bachelorette? Much more approachable. However you let me know if this is linked to one of those boys who fancied you and I'll have it taken care of."

"A woman, actually." She handed her bow off and headed up the stairs. "Seems I also have a type in barmy Russian girls."

Alastair nodded. "I'll make a note for the guards." He was only half-joking. She vanished into her room, leaving the door ajar, and he turned his back and waited. She took only a few minutes to discard her armour and dress for dinner – a pale blue tank top and a pair of navy shorts. Back down the stairs.

"So...how is she?"

"Why don't you see for yourself?" He smirked and pushed open the kitchen door.

Abby looked at the girl, sitting down at the table, and forced another smile at the vaguely familiar face. Right away her mind shifted, from Alastair's familiarity to Amani's alienness. She became self-conscious. Their interactions were sparse. What was this girl even like? Oh bugger, should she have worn the patch? What kind of girl shows to dinner with her eye like that? Alastair walked past her with a light nudge, snapping her out of it.

"Amani...hi," she nearly stammered, and that was it. After so long, "normal" human interaction felt like unfamiliar territory. What did people talk about? What did they have? The incident? Abby's absence and return? No no, none of that.

Oh! "So, how's school been?" she asked, shooting Alastair a telling side-glance: "Was that the right question? Please help me." He only smiled and stood against the wall behind the girl, wrist-in-hand behind his back. Helpless, her eyes returned to the girl.