The Manifestation RPG

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Valerie_Huntington

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Pale moonlight fell in gentle streaks over the shadowy jungle, all traces of life sleeping peacefully within the empyrean landscape. Her time on the island was drawing to an end, however it had been a time of limitless tranquility and untamed passion, her and Quintus having taken advantage of all the island had to offer. Long golden days running through the white-sanded beaches and splashing within the crystalline waters, evenings enjoyed alongside the Arashikage warriors eating and drinking, and nights spent playing with their growing tigress cub before satisfying their endless appetites for one another. The months had been a time of unknown serenity to her, having had spent her entire life caught up in the constant movement of the city, business, and being a celebrated public figure. Never before had she allowed time to slip away from her, and enjoy each moment in its entirety, existing each day for each day’s worth.

Quintus’ comfortingly-brawny figure lay motionless beside her, his chest rising and falling in the methodical rhythm of peaceful slumber. If their bed was the sky, they were stars, at place in the universe only when beside the other. Despite her fears, he had pushed himself back to the physical paragon he was before his second brush with death, having just proved his bodily fortitude during their final indulgence in one another while staying on the island. Her love had quickly slipped into unconsciousness beside her, however, Valerie lay awake while trying to enjoy every second she had left on the heavenly island.

Part of her resistance toward leaving the island was the knowledge of how tense the outside world had grown. With Kamelot having been destroyed, Quintus’ murderer not yet faced his payment for his actions, and Mercy being unlawfully incarcerated, returning to New York would bring an entirely new set of challenges to the Upper East Side icon’s life.

It was infinitely comforting to have Mercy back by her side, and to have the reason behind her mysterious absence unveiled. Had Valerie still been in the city during the arrest, there wouldn't have been a question as to her fighting to free her best friend. But she had been here, marveling her sunkissed skin and rejuvenated energy all while completely unaware of the events outside her exotic bubble where worrying was unrecognizable. Knowing her best friend had used her own peerless internal strength and mental aptitude to free herself only furthered Valerie’s respect and admiration toward her. Comforted by knowing her sister could now rest undisturbed back in the island’s city, everything seemed to be in place for them to return home together in the morning.

Even after reminding herself both her fiance and best friend where sleeping safely near her, Valerie was unable to find sleep. Rising from the plush bed she shared with Quintus she glided, fully exposed to the island’s warm nighttime air, to the balcony of the tree house-like abode they had adopted within the jungle. Enigmatic shadows danced through the leaves of the trees that guarded the island before sliding down their trunks and dispersing through the verdant undergrowth. She searched for signs of the exotic wildlife that inhabited the supernatural island, but found her efforts futile. The land seemed to hold an unusual silence, the typical sounds of migrating creatures and rustling leaves having abandoned the jungle. The quiet was unnerving.

Feeling as though she was not alone the blonde beauty slipped her supple figure into a thin white camisole and shorts before returning to her perch on the balcony, determined to discover the cause of the night’s eerie atmosphere. Her telepathic mind stretched out of her body and across the island, her mutant abilities having long since become an extension of herself, as easy as stretching an arm or lifting a leg. She knew her paranoia was irrational, the island itself was impossible to find, and in the event that it was, its natural and technological defenses were designed to ward off even the most formidable of attackers. But still she felt insecure, continuing to search for unwanted minds within the island.

With a sudden and horrifying realization she found the source of her suspicions. The Brahma Bull was closing in on them at a startling rate, catching both Valerie and her fiance unprepared for a fight. She had yet to meet their invader personally, however his infamy had reached her ears and left enough of an impression to make her fearful of his presence.

Rushing with silent footsteps back to her bed she shook Quintus gently, trying to wake him without drawing any unwanted attention to their location. “Quintus, love, wake up. We have a visitor,” she said with a calm urgency, already moving away from him to retrieve more durable attire. It was apparent the Bull had planned to utilize the element of surprise, forcing Valerie and the Knightfall Alpha to make use of what little time they had before facing their unforeseen attacker.

Knowing Quintus was perfectly capable of preparing for their inevitable encounter with the Brahma Bull, Valerie focused on sliding her figure into a pair of white patent leather pants and bandeau before covering her bare feet with a matching pair of heeled boots, all the while trying to estimate how much longer they had before hell broke loose in the jungle. In one final act of defensive strategy she reached out angrily for Mercy’s mind, trying to put enough force into the cry for help to wake her friend. Valerie hoped the skilled warrior would make her way to the jungle in time to assist them, knowing her prowess in combat would help give them an edge against their physically indomitable opponent.

Stepping back out onto the hut’s balcony she looked out over the jungle, the silence which once granted her solace now presenting the opposite. Everything seemed unnatural still and quiet, the unsettling calm before the storm having invaded the island air as she waited with a practiced poise for their attacker to show himself.

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Geographically enshrouded by the botanical veil of the island's encompassing greenery, the self-proclaimed Gangster of Guerrilla Warfare remains temperate, a cringe-worthy path of graphically mauled carcasses and bodies trailing behind his resting frame, animal and human, the Brahma Bull did not discriminate. Obscured from the descending moonlight by the congested, malachite foliage of ambient trees, the stationary Brazilian Behemoth, his elephantine back leaned against the weathering bark of a thick tree, gargantuan frame seated atop a grey-flushed rock of alarming enormity as his infamous mask lies an inch next to his right thigh, his left hand holding a waning Cuban-made Cohiba Cigar.

"A smoke in times of rest is a great companion to the solitary soldier", the quoted words of Marxist revolutionary Che Guevara touching the Militant Mammoth's mind. He need not move, the surrounding fauna, the night itself, they all knew better, they all knew fear, they knew not to incite the Gothic City Nightmare's unmitigated wrath. And so the night remained still, macabrely so. But he had not come for them. He had come for one. Quintus. A capitalist. A former Venezuelan politician. A Knightfall. A man once imbued with ability of such extraordinary puissance yet plagued by death not once, not twice, but thrice. A man who had once harbored the necessary political faculties to decimate the malignant government of the United States.

A former anti-registration revolutionary presently content to live the monotonous, economically cancerous life of a plutocrat. He disgusted him. All of the Knigtfalls. To society they offered nothing of value, their celebrity status counter productive to the mind of a child, the place where the revolution begins. All of them, complete and utter waste of mutant blood. And had the Knightfall Alpha remained dead, he would not have to suffer the forthcoming pain. The Brahma Bull's promised gift of death. Any who dare intervene shall be vehemently welcomed, the Guerrilla Goliath's violence, his wrath, they segregated no one. Nonchalantly snuffing his exhausted cigar and re-adorning his iconic mask, he rises, heavily armed and ballistically adorned regardless of his monstrously insurmountable durability

Resuming his footslogging, forsaking the appalling trail of blood to commence another with the blood of a Knightfall, the Brahma Bull continues, marching forward, his footsteps generating no vibrational tremors, no audibility. Towering well over seven feet, composed of nearly two thousand pounds of muscular mass, and yet he moved with deceptive nimbleness. An hour had passed and he halted. Standing in the concealing calignosity of the surrounding botany, his ominously incandescent, pupil-less rubicund eyes caught sight of an opulent architectural compound, the abode of his target. If Stark was the Zeus of the capitalist pantheon, then Quintus was it's Heracles.

Readying an RPG-30 Kryuk anti-tank grenade launcher over his grossly chiseled left shoulder, the Brahma Bull shoots, the explosive projectile seeking to ebulliently herald his arrival by disparaging the targeted home. Immediately following his incipient attack, the Titanic Terrorist indifferently tosses the rocket launcher aside, and true to his christened alias, charges forward, his objective a simple one. To use his mountainous strength, the power to facilely topple entire skyscrapers to violently bring the entire structure to it's foundation, intent on injuring all who reside within, unknowing of Valerie and Mercy's presence within.

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Mercy_

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#4  Edited By Mercy_

After a brief three day reunion in Spain with Andres, Mercy had arrived directly at Agiad'coda Island. Having been unlawfully incarcerated, she had finally surfaced again, back with a vengeance.

The solace if the island was a welcome balm to her spirit, her mentality and her attitude. It was a constant reminder of everything she had fought for, and everything she strove to be.

Finding yet another night of restless sleep without exploits with Andres to tire her out, the Sanguine had taken to jogging through the jungle and the beach in the middle of the night to drive up adrenaline, utilizing the crash as a way to sink into a restless sleep.

The cool wind of the evening whipped nearly black hair, the moon illuminating hints of red in it as bare feet steadily plodded against the white sand beach. A sudden disruption in the island, a body that Mercy had become intrinsically tied to was quickly followed up by a telepathic summons via Valerie.

The brutal shove of the telepathic urge nearly knocked her to her knees, visibly throwing her off of her stance. Known for finesse and subtlety when it came to her gift, the urgent push alerted Mercy to the severely dire nature of the impending situation.

All she wanted was five goddamn moments of peace. Abducted to prevent her aid in the siege of Kamelot and held in the days after in a failed attempt to strike at Andres, Mercy was continuously subverting what people expected from her, and very rarely enjoying any time to herself.

The Christmas holidays were supposed to be that one moment of the year where she was allowed idyllic peace, but it seemed like fate had some other cruel plan for her just mere days before the most festive day of the year.

A centered sprint brought her quickly to one of the numerous safe houses complete with caches that had been set up on the island. After the complete destruction that LeBeau had wrought, Mercy had been intent in her methods to prevent something like that from ever happening again.

It was quick work to strip out of her jogging outfit and into something a bit more combat-friendly. The matte black bodysuit had a special weave that allowed for stealth and sound-dampening abilities along with a small boost to durability. Laced with weapons and useful boots, the Sanguine departed the safe house, keeping a steady jog up as she followed the map that Valerie had planted in her head.

The concussive resonance of the attack knocked her to the ground as she traveled quickly through the trees of the island. Dirt hit her face, an errant twig scratching thinly across her cheek. Mumbling obsenities, Mercy quickly rose to her feet understanding now the exactly location of whatever foe was foolish enough to enter this domain.

It was a quick work of an agile body as she leapt up one branch to another, then another. Quick and light footwork allowed her to leap from tree to tree with complete silence. The animals cooperated, not taking flight and giving away her tactics as she did so.

Watching above from a birds-eye view, Mercy watched the tableau unfold below her. Quintus approaching the tactical beast who had defiled her precious island in a manner that set off alarms in her head.

Standing askance on the branch, she held a dagger in one hand, poised to drop and descend at an opportune moment, allowing Valerie and Quintus to handle the situation for the moment.