"Today, the voices of all those who have fallen, all those who were crushed beneath the unjust heel of oppression, those who cannot or do not speak for themselves, be it from fear or inability, shall be heard. We may be few, but we speak for a million more, we speak for every "mutant" that yearns for peace, for every man, woman, and child that longs to be embraced by their brothers and sisters only to be shunned, kicked away like stray dogs in the street.
We are here to say that we are here. We are your neighbors, your friends, the men and women who serve you coffee and teach your children, we are your loved ones and the ones who smile as you pass in the street. We are not "mutants", we are men, we are women, we people just like you. We bleed, we cry, we feel, and we are not going anywhere.
America is our home, as it is yours, and all we want is to be free, to be accepted, and to be loved. Our wishes are the wishes of all who have suffered at the hands of others and choose not to give their hearts over to hate: brotherhood, sisterhood, friendship and peace.
We are here America, reject us or accept us, here we will stay. Though I am but one man, today I march for a million just like me, a million men who hoped for peace."
Recent events in Delaware, namely the scheduled execution of local hero Brain Child, (Washington DC thread) have made local radio personality and mutant "Cyclops" push up a planned march to Washington DC to protest for mutant rights, against the unfair treatment and persecution of his kind, and for a general shift in the average person'a perception of mutants.
The core of the protest is devoted to peaceful protest and nonviolence, and they number about three hundred or so. They will not retaliate no matter what, but that's not to say those that join them (If they are joined by others) will be as devoted. The spirit of the protest has been made clear, however, so those that join should not be immediately inclined toward violence.
Rules are the same as always, but I will control the core group of protestors.
If you want to throw everything to poop and say the mutants that join them are all human murdering psychopaths I won't stop you, but I will be very disappointed in you young lady.
@the_psyentist: (Yes, add characters, add opposition [peolplw thr hate/fear mutants], the works. Tbh I don't know what you're supposed to do, but the whole changing the state of human mutant affairs is supposed to be an RP, so here it is.)
@gale_xanders: (go for it. I'll be fleshing this out a little more today if I have time, but homework is really piling up an I've kiinda been neglecting it lately.)
@thecatalyst: (In that case, I may add some muties. I don't really have many mutant haters. The Sangria girls maybe, but they are all in hiding more or less.)
@the_psyentist: (I'll be adding some NPC opposition, police will be there to deter violence and all, but seeing a large group I mutants walking down the streets is bound to create tension. Whether anything comes of that tension is up to you guys, since I'm too lazy to come up with proper endings to things. :P)
Where there was a mutant gathering for solidarity or protest, there were two faces that were oft to be seen in the varied metahuman crowd. Dr. Alexandra Steele and Dr. Jean Quentin seldom turned down the chance to march with their brothers and sisters, though for maybe differing reasons. The PsyKnight was there to support and protect his comrades. If everything ran smoothly, it shouldn’t hurt his political campaign. The Psyentist however was scanning the crowd, sometimes with her telepathy as well as eyes, gauging the power levels and assortments as if she was window shopping at the deli. Just for future reference perhaps. Or maybe for her research. She was going to get something out of this besides the good press. She wondered who might oppose the hoard. The Vampiric Vixen would take extreme pleasure in making note of them and possibly removing them as a future threat. She licked her crimson lips.
But the two seemed quite similar despite their unique perspectives and motivations. They were clones, after all. Golden hair, ice blue eyes, clothed in stainless white, they were the picture of genetic perfection.
Sentinel Hawk didn't have ways herself...but she did know people. Strings were pulled and it was arranged for Sentinel Hawk to meet with the condemned Brain Child. She wasn't concerned about any sort of telepathic abilities not because of any immunity on her part but because it was difficult to get through the stubborn will of a Hawk Lord even for the most powerful of telepaths. She was allowed into the cell and the door was shut behind her.
The seventeen year old Hawk Lord watched Brain Child intently, drawn here because she felt for the innocent and the oppressed and part of her wondered if this girl was as innocent as mutants claimed or as guilty as the government believed. Among her 'powers' so to speak was the ability to see the Truth in anyone's soul. She could tell if there was good at all inside of someone simply by focusing on them for a long enough period of time. She was tapping into that ability now.
"Hello, my name is Sentinel Hawk." she said, introducing herself.
Minor cracks race across the pavement, the the impact force from his heel colliding with concrete causing it to buckle as he rose, and strutted along the pavement with an air of confidence and swagger. He was very comfortable in his own skin, artificial as it may be.
Maverick, much like most police and even the armed forces, were present. They scanned the crowd, contingencies already formed of how best to kill them. Men walked by with assault rifles bared, but lowered. Instead, of directly even opposing them, they were simply lying in wait. Even preventing people from other crowds from directly provoking them. People prevented from throwing things, Tetrahertz scanners sifted through the crowds for weapons. Already, someone attempted to fire and had the gun shirked from his hands by a force he couldn't perceive. Some man simply appearing before him and holding his hand firmly in place.
No if they were to stir something, it would have to be them who does so. And Maverick felt themselves ready. . Men walking around with weapons from assault rifles, to autocannons to directed energy devices, clad in power armor from the height of a normal person to over twelve feet tall. Drones hovering in the sky. Weapons in orbit floating higher than the heavens themselves waiting to strike down enemies as if it were an act of god. If it came down to it, Maverick would come at them with the amount of force necessary to contain them, be it capture of annihilation. They had killed hundreds of mutants in retaliation for one terrorist attack and outright repelled the forces of Asgard and all of it's realms. They were as ready to strike down whoever or whatever endangered the populace at any given moment.
Jackal walked about with the forces of Maverick, primarily the large density of ENCU stationed at this area. His visor clad eyes eyes fell on a feed that showed him another one of their own ranks (@sentinel_hawk) closely guarded by their forces, she was allowed to speak to him, but, indeed, they were watched, and there was no effort made in the fact that they were being watched. The camera feeds appeared straight towards his visor, the window being minimized and place at the corner of his eyes. He looked around, and instantly identified a political candidate among the crowd. Potentially, this could serve as an opportunity to further hinder his campaign, but such political agendas were not in plain view. Maverick had was a controversal entity with seemingly mixed PR. Seen as something of a necessity and who protected many mutants, metahumans and humans alike. Corporations had no morality, but their personal were mixed in perception. However, it was seemingly undeniable the threat the group could present.
Snidely, the Ceramic ghost looks towards Alexandra Steele as he converses among his men, running facial recognition as her file appears. A grin crawls across his falsely constructed visage.
Jurassic World had been constantly pushing its image, it was every where, like Space Wars Seven: The Force. They had long since rebuilt their image but now sought to expand upon it and were ranked among the world's most philanthropic companies. As a part of their campaign Jurassic World somehow had a presence at the march. There were stations all along the walk that handed out free water (in non-labeled cups) and offered medical aide to those that needed it. One such stand was also at the end of the march. The idea was to work on the one image of the park that remained problematic. Some still viewed Jurassic World as being somehow anti-mutant.
They carefully avoided taking sides though as they were just as often seen handing out water to law enforcement. The image the park was working towards was simple, they were open to everyone, not just humans or mutants or even aliens, but anyone that wanted to come and enjoy the magic and beauty of Jurassic World. There was someone else there too..she watched from the sidelines as the tension in the air increased. The mysterious hero had arrived and she prowled through the crowds like a predator. So little was on the books about the Mystery Hero of Gothic, the elusive and unknown Xae.
The Getaway rolled silently down the city streets, its tinted windows obscuring the driver's identity. The armored vehicle was set to appear more like a civilian automotive, rather than the tank-like alternate form that could be activated with the flick of a switch. It'd cost its driver all the money he'd won from his little operation in New York City, but to him, it'd been worth every penny.
Can't be a superhero without a slick ride, thought Garth Redeker, better known to the world as Cheat, the Man with the Plan. His fingers drummed idly on the large wheel, his eyes glancing quickly at his wristwatch. He'd arrived in time for the beginning of the march, but he wasn't there to participate. No, anyone with a brain could tell that gathering this many mutants in one place was the equivalent of driving a C4-covered gasoline tanker into a wildfire. No matter who threw the first stone, civilians would be in harm's way. Cheat himself was all for mutant rights, but he was also certain this would end in disaster, either for man or for mutant. He considered it his job to protect both.
He rolled up to a security checkpoint, parallel to the Main Street the march was taking place on. He rolled down the window for a heavily armed officer, lowering his sunglasses at the man. Currently, he was wearing what would appear to be a black turtleneck and jeans, with no sign of any unique paraphernalia that would distinguish him from any other civilian.
"License and registration?" asked the guard, right as Cheat produced the papers.
"I'm a reporter," he said, pushing the glasses back up onto his nose. "Here for the thing."
The officer said nothing, handing him back his papers and motioning for him to move along. Scowling, Cheat grabbed his license, stuffing it back in his wallet and driving off down the line. His car, which he'd acquired only about a week and a half ago, was a miracle of modern engineering. Compared to the rest of his more conventional weaponry, perhaps save for the grapple-guns, it seemed cutting-edge, out of his league. In the past seven days, it'd become his pride and joy, functioning as both his house, his transportation, and his crimefighting headquarters. And now, he thought with a grin, my favorite part.
Keeping one of his boots gently on the pedal, he took his hands off the wheel, shoving them underneath the driver's side dash. At the same time, he leaned back slightly, letting the car's internal camera get a good look at him. Within a second, what had at first appeared to be a large seatbelt across his chest detached from the car, clipping to his costume in the back. The weaponry that typically adorned his harness flipped around from behind his seat, clipping fluidly to the harness, which also wrapped around his forearms and thighs. A moment later, he removed his hands from the small area underneath the wheel, now sealed within his trademark gloves. Then, the small ceiling hatch opened up, his cape and cowl lowering gently onto his back, clipping to the harness. The cape dropped back down around his legs as the Underhanded Hero pulled one of his gloves tight, cowl sealing around his head.
Now prepared to leap into action at the slightest outbreak of violence, he continued on down the street, his sleek car keeping him relatively inconspicuous. To his right, where the passenger's seat would be, a large monitor kept him informed, live feeds from the adjacent street delivered right to his car. Now able to monitor every aspect of the march, he was ready and willing to neutralize whatever threat would eventually manifest, be it from within the crowd, or from an outside source. And if nothing happened? He'd get to witness history firsthand.
Here we go, he thought, grinning as his sleek car continued slowly down the road.
@the_psyentist: The mutants in the march rallied around the White Knight, some simply because of his magnetic personality, others drawn to his easy charm, his confidence and mannerisms. Many more identified him from his presidential campaign, his status as one of the few mutants in the world that was readily accepted and even beloved by many around the world, humans and mutants alike.
Fewer approached Doctor Steele, as Dr. Quentin was featured far more prominently in the upcoming presidential race, though she gathered plenty of attention from the men in the crowd.
Together the mutants marched, rallying around their heroes. The crowd itself was peaceful, though the presence of heavily armed forces, from the police, the National Guard and even the infamous "cape killers", @maverick_6, unnerved many of the protestors. Powered armor towering at a dozen feet loomed over them, the national guard had rifles at the ready, and most unnerving of all, a mechanized man, walking with inconcealable confidence, prowled the edges of the crowd. The visible portions of his body, resembling odd, grayish exposed muscle, made many of the marchers avert their eyes and shirk from his presence; panic could be seen in their faces as he swept his eyes over them.
Still they moved on, walking to the steps of the capitol, some moving to take water from the Jurassic World tents dotted along the path, others turned their noses up at them, convinced that this was all a marketing ploy, an attempt to popularize their park with a group that found its past practices deplorable. With all the armed guards most missed the sleekly armored Xae (@gale_xanders), instead taking in the sight of Maverick's mighty arsenal. It was for this reason, and this reason alone, that they were able to sneak through.
Dotted through the crowd of onlookers, hidden among those who came to take in the spectacle of the march, was the militia of the HFF, the innocuously named Humans First Foundation.
On the surface, and in many parts of the country, their sole function was nothing more than to gather funds and lobby for increased restrictions on "humankind's greatest threat", the "mutant menace". Unknown to most, but not to the Department of Homeland Security and FBI, was the armed chapter of the Humans First Foundation, the one that "protected" those in small towns where law meant little beyond what a few "good" men wanted it to mean. Mutants were kept in their place, separated from the rest of the populace, kept everyone "safe" and separate.
Those that disobeyed were made examples of, strung up, killed in cold blood, in the smaller towns. Already militia had set up their own towns in less populated states, walled off areas where freedom and privacy were ensured, where the mutant menace could be held at bay behind walls of concrete and the promise of a storm of lead. From these fortresses a slew of less than legal activities took place, including the manufacture of very specialized weaponry.
Maverick, as the world's premiere military and police force, had the means to scan for almost anything they would carry, fully metal firearms being the most obvious, explosives, improvised or otherwise, were also likely easily detected. So they had prepared, ready for the possibility that they might have to strike under the nose of arguably the world's greatest currently active military superpower.
It started with the 3D printers back at base, fully plastic weaponry, save the firing pin, was provided to a select few. Each of the twelve men equipped with these weapons also had one 12 gauge shotgun slug, with more ammunition scattered among others in the crowd. Each was a special armor piercing incendiary slug, loaded with the maximum amount of gunpowder to maximize stopping power and projectile velocity. The cheap plastic guns would not hold up to repeated shots, but they didn't have to. Two or three shots would tear through the crowd, piercing into and through at least one or two individuals before finally resting in mutie flesh, sending just the message they wanted: Know your f**king place.
To begin their dance, a distraction: gunshots fired into the air from a different part of town, aimed at and almost sure to attract the attention of Maverick's drones. Rifles went off looking to tear into their aerial surveillance and draw the attention of the police and national guard, and especially the Maverick personnel so set on watching over the freak show. From there they would surrender to whoever came after them, they were still mostly law abiding citizens after all, but once the guards moved away a secondary distraction from down the street, a crowd of the militia would attempt to push their way into the passive mutants, forcing the police to reinforce that area, and finally those with the plastic firearms would move in, retrieving their ammunition and letting loose into the crowd of less protected mutants, their primary target: the freak running for president, @psyknight. Any of the capes trying to stop them would receive a burning hole where their face should have been as all twelve men acted as a unit, bringing up their weapons in tandem to catch at least one successful shot. That was the plan, at the very least.
Buckeye Valley Delaware, OH: "Improvised Containment Unit"
Stephanie Jacobs, otherwise known by a now more infamous name, Brain Child, lay in the squalor and filth of the makeshift isolation unit. The rural county of Buckeye Valley did not have the means to contain such a high risk prisoner, but moving her also proved problematic, as it increased the chance of escape dramatically. So they did the only thing that cold be done: isolate her until Maverick Personnel arrived. Due to a communication delay the corporation itself was not informed of their need for an entire day after her imprisonment, and no county law enforcement officers dared to enter what they thought of as her "effective range". So for a day and a night Stephanie Jacobs found herself trapped in the dark storage container, guarded from a distance of 600 meters by a group of highly trained snipers.
Locals came for all manners of reasons to the storage unit, most, including Jacobs parents herself, were stopped and dismissed long before making it to the container holding the mutant terrorist. A few teenagers though, sneaking by in the dead of night past drowsy or downright napping guards, a test of their courage and a modern rite of passage. Those that made it close in their attempts to touch her makeshift prison found themselves washed over by a sudden feeling of despair, helplessness, desperation, all marked by a twinge of anger. They retreated, none making it to the container themselves, all struck by an overwhelming despair. It was into this situation that the troops at Maverick stepped into, their rifles tucked into their shoulders the metal doors were opened for the first time in over 36 hours, opened for the only visitor approved by the corporation charged with safeguarding the mutant, one of their own, a peacemaker that worked with warmongers, Sentinel Hawk.
The smell hit first, causing the nervous sheriff's deputy to recoil, backing away from the container with an arm pressed over his face. The container had no means of escape, no portal to the outside world, and so no way to dispose of waste. Many would consider this cruel, unusual, and certainly against good conscience, but the locals were too overwhelmed with fear to consider the needs of an extranormal murderer.
As light flooded into the container the girl stirred from her resting place at the near side of the container, the deputy already placing his hand on his Glock, removing the brass snap keeping it holstered. It was a pitiful sight, the girl, seized and rendered unconscious as she lay in her bed, was still in the silk pajamas she was captured in, though they were now stained with the filth of her surroundings. She lay there, curled in on herself, her face still red in the trails her tears had taken, dark circles traced her sockets as she fluttered open bright green eyes ringed on all sides by bloodshot vessels. Sandy blonde hair rose from the peeling blue paint of the containers innards as she sat up, her frame was athletic, powerful, but she moved in a way that suggested fragility. Hunger and stress had done their damage, and the girl rose shakily from her position on the floor, one arm shielding her eyes from the sudden, blinding light of the sun, the other braced against the wall for support.
She stared back at them with fear in her gaze, her weary, wary eyes sweeping over every one of them. There were the two guards from Maverick, armored, faces hidden behind helmets and faceplates, rifles lowered but easily readied, fingers off the trigger, for now. The jumpy deputy, hand on his Glock, half drawn, clearly afraid, and finally, a girl, face mostly hidden behind a helmet, wings tucked neatly behind her back, staring straight back at her. Stephanie's stare settled on Munoz, decidedly the youngest and most interesting off all her visitors, some fear still in her eyes. She knew she was going to be executed, the guards had told her as much last night, announcing the state's plans for her in a "moment of mercy" that was decidedly a gloat, she wondered now if this was the group meant to take her through her last rights, her final meal, all in proximity of the dingy dungeon they'd set up for her. Finally, after staring at them for several moments, she spoke. "Who are you, and why are you here?"
Xae's sensor suite took in everything that happened, it recorded the shots, traced their points of origin and she dismissed them as a concern. Shots into the air were nothing. The next round of commotion came to her sensors as well and again she dismissed them. Xae was a soldier but not just a soldier, a soldier who had fought a war far longer than anyone present could have imagined. The wars of Humanity were nothing but skirmishes to her and her experience out stripped the lot of them. As such Xae recognized diversions when she saw them and stayed silent in the crowd and waited for the real threat to emerge. Her scanners fed increasing information into her visor and it was not long before she identified people acting strangely. In a crowd all moving in one direction it was twelve men moving in the opposite direction that stood out.
Xae began her own movement then and slipped through the crowd like the apex predator that she was. For her the title of apex predator wasn't something someone attached to her because she was scary...it was the truth of genetics. Millions of years of evolution had put at her the top of the food chain and even in human form she moved with the grace and stealth of her kind. Her armor stood out but at the same time it had a way of blending in, precisely because no one was really looking for it when there was the physical presence of Maverick everywhere. What she was having trouble discerning was their target, the men moved with purpose, armed with plastic weapons that almost made her laugh, but she couldn't figure out who they were going after...and that was because she didn't keep track of human politics...not yet anyway. That would change after today.
Xae moved around in a circle and decided to cut them off. She moved until she found one of those random clearings that formed in all crowds and stood between the twelve men and their target, or least she stood in front of the twelve men. The claws of her armor gleamed in the light of the sun. "Stop." She said firmly, a single word, a command issued by a female capable of doing absolutely terrible things to them. Her voice carried with it a strange tone, something primal beneath the word that alerted human instinct to the presence of something capable of eating it. She hoped it was enough, she didn't want to kill them...but she would if she had to.
Munoz shook her head at the conditions and offered her gloved hand. "My name is Sentinel Hawk, I wanted to have a word with you. A lot of people are saying things about you but I don't know what is true and what isn't. I can sense if someone has good inside of them and I want to sense if anything is inside of you. Will you come take a walk with me? We won't go far but you need to get out of this ridiculous cage and get some fresh air." There was nothing in Munoz's eyes but absolute kindness. There was a mace on her hip that suggested her kindness carried only so far, but she was probably the first person to offer a kind word or a kind look to the poor girl in weeks. "Would someone please get this girl some water or something?"
Munoz smiled a little. "Come speak with me?" She asked gently.
He looked towards the crowd of mutants. His stroll with his suit leisurely as he walked with his blade openly carried at his side. He had no fear of the mutants. No hatred.
"Hearing gunfire close by."
"By who? Shogun's forces? Send others to investigate."
*Click click click click*
Safeties were undone.
*Shink*
A blade was draw from it's sheath.
He looked about the marchers, garnering reactions, the general conscious of fear and confusion among many of their faces indicating that they weren't apart of this. Still, it could be a band of protesters who were jut shooting, or it could be a terrorist attack. Either way, he had to be prepared. The Terehertz Scanners they used were high advanced, that frequency of radiation being capable of penetrating a wide number of materials to reveal metals and the like. Not only this, but it could also be used to image DNA, hence enabling anyone to tell if someone is a mutant, or otherwise, instantaneously. Not only, but they could detect a few molecules worth of explosives. However, what was both a benefit and a flaw is that it penetrated plastics and ceramics. Penetration made it ideal for seeing through it, for if it cannot penetrate it, it can't see through it. The radiation went right through the plastic and it was nigh invisible to them.
Police move forward with the aid of a few ENCUs in the area, though the bulk of Maverick is very well intent on staying. Jackal included. His seemingly carefree, demeanor gone. Not in the face of danger, or fear. His features relaxed, he let out an exasperated sigh the men were dealt with by the local law enforcement and scanned. They were just humans. Ordinary men. The men, promptly tackled, completely incapacitated and arrested with everything caught on the D.A.H.S. monitoring system.And then he knew.
"All units be advised. Assailants are equipped with plastic firearms that will not show up on our scanners."
But even Jackal, with his reflexes and speed, was only so fast on his own to protect the mutants, however he knew of their target. The mutant running president. A look of dissappointment tensed as he dashed swiftly becoming a blur before landing and rolling, breaking in front of the man himself. (@the_psyentist) His back towards him as he faced the crowd of aggressors. They fired, and so did Maverick and the national guard, quick to retaliate against the aggressors. ENCU operating on raw instinct as their trained guns locked onto their targets with machine like efficiency to take them out.
Jackal knew for a fact the speeds at which it would take to deflect something such as an AK-47 from as little as ten feet away. Such rounds would travel at 2350 feet per second, 1602 miles per hour .Twice the speed of sound. In order to block something moving at these speeds, he would have to undergoe an acceleration of 3437 Gs and bring himself to move at speeds of exactly 160 miles per hour. His musculature, was capable of pulling over 10,000 Gs. For a frame of reference, a car driving at 62 miles per hour and crashing subjects the human body to exactly 100 Gs.
The air rip as he blade whirred through the air. Bullets exploding as they were deflected. He stood firmly in place, hips swiveling as he slashed rapidly. Throwing exactly 50 slashes in one second and if he held this pace for a minute over 3000 slashes in one single minute. Bullets themselves were aimed well, but the shots were literally being swatted away at speeds and acceleration nearly incomprehensible to the human eye. A few bullets did indeed hit him. It was buckshot seemingly buckshot and slugs mixed together. Something he wasn't particularly good at deflecting being that multiple pellets were fired at once, and slugs were more easily dealt with as they were swatted aside into the air. But those incendiary pellets that did hit Jackal failed to even pierce his CNT suit and it hardly boasted the muzzle energy to cause him to stagger, pierce or blow him away like some higher grade military weapons did. He wasn't protecting themselves, more ,the president and those in his vicinity. Once the shots were over, however, his glasses fell into the ground in pieces, and his suit was ruined. Disappointment turned into utter fury as he scowled at them.
Idiots.
"Wouldn't want a scratch on that pretty little face of yours, Doctor Quentin." He says to Jean, a mocking tone audible. "Or yours, Ms Steele." His voice, venomous at the mention of the vampires name.
His face drifted to that of indifference to the mutants injured, smile subtle and difficult to see from any kind of distance. Eyes however focused as he held his blade in front of his body, ready to intercept most whatever would be sent their way.
His gaze turns towards her. A greater grin forming on his face. "Why don't you leave the law enforcement to us?"
---
The order was sent during the display to fire at will towards any and all armed aggressors who did open fire. Maverick and national guard not wasting a moment as the violent group of armed aggressors were met with a storm of lead. All Maverick personal scoring nothing less than a perfect headshot. However, they could do nothing to protect the crowd of mutants. Jackal was incapable of protecting anyone aside from the president, not boasting the control over inertia to move back and forth instantly. When moving at high speeds, he had to break like a car. The men were in a much more ideal position to quickly and efficiently fire on any armed aggressor with ruthless efficiency.
Meanwhile, as Militia moved, trying to breach a barricade, a few men clad in grievous power armor appeared from seemingly thin air, completely invisible to the naked eye at one moment and soundless. Then the next moment a 13 foot tall all white walking artillery platform appeared before them. It moved through a portion of police who allowed to move through as it came closer and closer to the militia. Any who not run were gently, but forcefully, shoved back in crowds of around 3 at a time, as it would proceed to effortlessly overpower entire groups of men. The armor strong enough to pick up a car and throw it with one hand, it's strength was very much restrained.
Moya watched the entire thing, not there, but overseeing everything the Department of Homeland security's base. ENCU were highly equipped and adept at taking down metahumans and extra-normal threats but sometimes lacked sufficient or extensive training in how to facilitate people if they did not have prior experience in military or law enforcement. So, she instructed them on exactly how to act, various Urban Operations divisions moving about the area and doing what she asked. Men sat in front of computers as she paced back and forth in full body armor, except for her face. She leaned forward then, communicating with everyone using a form of Radio-based telepathy that relied on tattoos, common among Maverick's forces, used to communicate with radio and electronic devices. She instructed them as she looked about various of the literal thousands of street views, being shown specifically the ones that were relevant by by the D.A.H.S. Security personal.
"Alright. I want a clean sweep. Scan the area for IEDs and keep a look out for car bombs. Anyone detected to have anything that looks even remotely like gunpowder or a single molecule of explosives, I want them searched. Gunpowder, nitrocellulose, smokeless power, cordite, Black powder, TNT, Plastic Explosives, RDX, HMX and anything else you can think of. Weapons free. Shoot to kill. Only fire when necessary."
Necessary, meant when having to preserve someone else's life. The remaining forces would serve to kill anyone who was armed and was in the midst of gunning down any mutant. Those found with firearms were tossed to the floor, disarmed and arrested on the spot. Though Maverick was unable to fire on anyone who hid in a crowd or be able to capture anyone immediately, still leaving in general, many unknowns and strays to deal with. They couldn't detect anyone who had hidden plastic weapons and these "militia" could be anyone and anywhere. Maverick, the National Guard and law enforcement was forced to use what was normal. Not only this, but if the mutant retaliated, it could be a small scale war. So they acted quickly.
"I want this, all of it. Shutdown now."
Those who were subdued were arrested in groups as the grievous aimed their 20 mm autocannons towards aggressive rioters. The rounds well enough to rip men in two. The muzzle energy of an M16? 1,764 joules, which equaled a 1,302 lb impact. Their weapons, fully automatic, each round would impact with 43,702 joules of energy. 33323 foot pound impact, or 16.1 tons of force in each round they would fire. A gun meant for downing mutants and metas, turned on a group of men who'd think themselves invincible or think Maverick wouldn't expect something like this.
But the Grievouses did not fire on people, more, they just allowed their weapon and frame to do the speaking for them. It spoke on a loudspeaker towards those who surrendered and seemingly anyone who planned to do anything.
"Feeling lucky, punks? Get on the goddamn ground unless you want to be reduced to f*cking hot gore on the pavement."
Alexandra’s eyes glowed white as she whispered to Jean. “At the ready. There are some dissidents among us. The Humans First Foundation, if my telepathic scan is correct. If Maverick does their damn job, they’ll protect the peaceful protestors. But I don’t trust them as far as I could throw them.” She smirked. “Granted, that’s probably quite far... but still.” Like clockwork, the omega telepath’s assessment held true as a series of shots ran out.
The PsyKnight’s eyes blazed like blue fire and turned upward, his white suit tinted slightly by an azure protective armour of telekinetic energy. An idealist to the core, the imagery of the White Knight served as a familiar depiction of a chivalrous past, a symbol of defense before assault. His brow arched as an unlikely shield came between him and the fire. One of the @Maverick_6 mercenaries. Jackal sliced through the incoming fire, taking some in turn. Jean smirked at his quip. “Don’t worry about my face, sir. You’d do much better to worry about the civilians. I happen to be a plastic surgeon.”
Alexandra scoffed. “DOCTOR. Though I appreciate the concern for my nails. My manicure probably costs more than your life.” Sensing a kind of hostility, Xandra blew a condescending kiss towards him with her unscathed gloved hands.
Without wasting another moment of precious time, certain that the initial shots were meant only as a distraction or to scatter the crowd of mutants around him, Jean propelled himself into the air. If there was one to be a target, it would be him as a mutant candidate for the United States. He would use this to draw any violence away from his brothers and sisters to himself. He hovered in the air, his white and gold visage like a protective angel, glowing blue eyes scanning for the assailants. A hand thrust out to form a shield to protect the fellows he could. It seemed the humans had already infiltrated the ranks, making them much harder to defend against.
“Stand your ground, mutantkind. Do not give these men further cause to enact violence against you. The world will see the violence propagated against our kind, and they will see our resolute peacefulness in its wake. We have lived through the fire before, and we have survived. Progress will not be stopped.”
A soft chuckle broke from Alexandra’s silver lips. He was such a bleeding idealist. At least in this instance, he and her were on the same side. Apart, they were a force of mind and matter. Together, they could form a dual mind, acting as two sides to a whole, masters of their mutant arts. Their eyes glowed white with the telepathic link. Xandra was not about to just throw up a shield and hope for the best. With an extended, gloved hand, she sought out the rifles used against them, her fist tightening as she found them to reduce them to plastic dust. Her left hand raised a shield to protect herself from incoming fire resulting from her more offensive approach, a wary eye ever on the sadistic Jackal.
@maverick_6: @gale_xanders: The rapidly moving Apex predator was prevented one of the terrorists from drawing his weapon, instead he held it in a lowered position, ready to raise it, but his eyes could not leave hers. His blood chilled, his hands shook, and he froze as the ENCU placed a shot through his brain. Shortly after the Apex Predator was addressed by Maverick's Cybernetic Soldier, mocked even, as the combined forces of Maverick and the National Guard tore through the HFF's militia, Maverick's forces placing each shot surgically between their eyes as they fell, a dozen in the blink of an eye, the crowd then pacified by the giant machines, but the damage was already done.
The slugs, while powerful and exotic, were never intended to pierce the infamous Jackal or even damage Maverick's superior armor and weaponry. In deflecting the rounds Jackal had planted himself directly in front of the White Knight, a man surrounded on either side by his mutant brethren, his peers, and while he led the crowd of gathering mutants the majority of the twelve shooters had elected to fire through the crowd to hit their target rather than gathering at his front where they could be seen by their target.
While their visibility was clearly hampered by the angle of fire the effect they'd hoped to achieve was not. In that moment the armor piercing incendiary slugs cleaved into the soft flesh of several mutants, the angle of fire making it difficult to deflect each slug harmlessly away, yet somehow the Cybernetic Swordsman managed for the majority, the slugs igniting at temperatures exceeding 3000 degrees Fahrenheit upon striking hard surfaces, fizzling out on concrete and igniting wooden surfaces. Two of the rounds, however, were not aimed for the presidential candidate at all, however, and instead looked to soar past him and into fuel tanks of a carefully placed truck. One missed entirely, striking the truck but missing its mark, the other successfully embedded itself into the fuel tank, rupturing it in a violent explosion that would potentially injure many, perhaps even killing a few less fortunate individuals.
(I know, trope.)
The incendiary buckshot on the other hand was simply meant to intimidate, and that it did, blowing mutant gore onto the candidate as the mutants caught in its wake were struck by burning pellets and torn apart from up close, the gore raining on those behind them. The assailants themselves were rapidly dealt with, their ammo carriers rounded up and pacified immediately after the bloodbath, after their comrades' heads exploded into gore, yet all seemed calm, smug even.
"You think this is bad? Just wait 'til you see what we've got waiting down the line, you godddamn mutie FREAKS!" with that the HFF militiaman began a low chuckle, a sh!t eating grin plastered on his face. "Keep marching, only place you'll end up is hell, right where you freaks belong."
The mutants in the original crowd of three hundred glanced back, now numbering at 284 (when not counting the injured, the deceased, and their mourners), they continued a solemn march forward, some shedding tears, others helping the grieving that chose to continue along. A large portion of those that joined along the path, however, turned back, successfully cowed by the assaults of the covert faction of the HFF. Until they heard the clarion call of their White Knight (@psyknight), a beacon of hope to the mutant community, a reminder that there were those that could and would accept them as they were.
“Stand your ground, mutantkind. Do not give these men further cause to enact violence against you. The world will see the violence propagated against our kind, and they will see our resolute peacefulness in its wake. We have lived through the fire before, and we have survived. Progress will not be stopped.”
Upon hearing his words many returned, others could only shake their heads as they retreated, a mix of shame and disbelief upon their faces. Others were not so much encouraged to rejoin the protest as to stay for the brewing battle. Tension was thick in the air, and they weren't about to abandon their brothers and sisters.
"Progress will not be stopped." There was no doubt that the Knight had intended it as a call to resume their resolute protest, to march on in the name of peace, but the youth at the fringes of the group heard a different message. They stared on as the remains of several mutants were carted away, the injured tended to nearby or shipped away in ambulances. Jefferey Holmes' arms buzzed with electricity, the bright blue arcs traveled up and down his bare arms, singeing the shoulders of the sleeveless hoodie he wore. At 6'6'' he glared down at the crowds meant to contain the march, and a cold hatred directed at Maverick's forces, and the assembled police and national guard.
His contempt spread even to @gale_xanders and the Jackal, who even as he saved their leader, had insulted them. He glared down at them with disgust, in his mind, it was the marchers against the rest. These crowds, the forces gathered here, they were there to contain them, kill them if necessary, not protect them. It was a lesson Holmes learned quickly in his encounters with the Hyattsville police, and it wasn't one to be so quickly forgotten. He stared down at the two of them (Jackal and Gale), a silent challenge. Other protesters stopping to watch what the unstable youth might do, many on both sides of the barricade backing away as he issued his nonverbal challenge only a few feet away from @the_psyentist and her more charismatic half.
Us vs. Them, that's what it always breaks down to.
15 million Volts crackled in his palm as he maintained his icy glare.
(@sentinel_hawk I've got to sort some stuff out with Mav, your interaction's on the way)
"Because." Xae replied to the Jackal when the attack was over. "You get people killed." She added. A military to guard a parade route, they didn't need a military they needed a surgeon. Xae shook her head at the carnage. Her eyes fell on the mutant that now challenged them, just some hatchling with a hair-brained idea and the wrong mindset. Her sensors immediately determined the electrical build up and she lightly pushed Jackal back a little and stepped forward to accept the hatchling's challenge. "You want to get more people killed go ahead." She told Jackal. "Just bring the whole damn army crashing down on a bunch of innocent and frightened hatchlings." She strode forward in a calm approach to the rather perturbed Jefferey Holmes. She was nearly as tall as he was and not because of her armor.
"Right now there are approximately eighty million people watching you live on television and the internet. More will see it tomorrow or as videos of this event go viral." She said, now speaking to the hatchling. "Right now, right here, you have a decision to make. The people that just attacked this march wanted to prove a point, two points actually if you want to count their own delusional thinking on the subject. First..." She said, counting off with one of her deadly claws, in part to show him the blade that could easily slice through his flesh and bone. "They want to prove to the world how dangerous they think you are. Look out for the big bad mutant boogie man, he can kill whole cities! Look out for the mutants, they can kill you with a flick of the wrist and a whim because they don't care about human life." She raised a second clawed finger. "Point number two, you hold yourself apart, above even, the rest of the species. People fear those who believe they are superior, people fear those who lash out in anger and show a disregard for life. So the choice is yours now."
Xae's artificial tail snapped around behind her. "So make a decision..." She gestured to the cameras and the parted crowd. "Do you want to prove their points for them? These men, they will be arrested, detained, charged and punished for their crimes. What do you want to show the world?" Xae asked, cocking her head slightly. "How do you want them to think of mutant kind?"
An explosion goes of, smoke and fire shooting into the air as an unaccounted for oil tanker was detonated with a few incendiaries. Lowly under his breath, Jackal swears in response to seeing one of their own trying to make their way through the crowd get blown back by the explosion. Taking it near point blank, he is sent flying and smashes into a car with such force as to nearly tip it over. A few personal go over to him and the scene of course, has descended into utter chaos. The men were gunned down within a few moments.
Jackal returned a similar grin towards the mutant candidate for presidency, amused by his response and at Doctor Steele's outburst. He tilts his head and winks towards her. Before returning his view to the chaos, particularly to one who approaches him.
"Oh. I get people killed? My sincerest apologies for taking a few bullets while all you did was try to play little Miss Superior. You sniffed them out first, and yet, you did exactly jack sh*t when it came to actually saving people. Meanwhile, we gun them down when they start firing and quell all of em. Could of done it sooner if maybe you alerted us, but you decided to play hero and try to scare off a group of armed men. You weren't in any danger but did it ever occur to you to stop and think "Hey, maybe I should prioritize the protester's lives" instead of a few terrorists. "
His gaze goes towards one of them as they are picked up and hall off. One of the men mouthing off towards Jackal and company. A slick smile crawls on his face, the man of some admirable resolve. Indeed, the group had no second chance at life. They were willing to die just to prove a point, just to stick it to some group of what were seen as beings able to be gods. Once again, Maverick had prepared for the extra-ordinary, only to be trumped by completely conventional tactics in a sense. The men all died, or were arrested, and were no match for the corporations brute force. Any one soldier able to easily slaughter them alone, let alone Jackal. But, what did it matter? They'd accomplished their goal.
He made a motion for them to stop hauling the men away. That one was to stay. Instead of leaving he is brought forth to him, tossed next to Jackal, as he looks towards the ground. Looking towards
"Sucks, doesn't it? Being weak? Being powerless. Oh, I know the feel, Jeffery. Better than most normal people who've had the luxury of living a peaceful life in some semblance of a stable environment. A lot of us know that feel. Being weak and threatened. Not everyone is so inclined to back down and take the Darwinistic D***. It doesn't even matter how it's started. All that matters is what is happening now. How your past effects you future. Look at what mutantkind has created."
In a swift motion, his blade is pointed downwards towards the mouthy man.
"An iron will fueled by nothing but hatred, and contempt. Oh, people are afraid alright. But not everyone response to fear the same way. Some people get really, really angry. To the point where they'll give their lives away if it means taking you out. You didn't do anything? Well too bad. Your species sure has been busy. What, with commiting mass genocide of an entire country and then calling it home. And then you decide to up and attack us. Cause one country wasn't enough. And now, you're here trying to make peace.You made this. All of this."
He walks forward with a stamp of his foot. Fissures forming beneath his feet as he motions to himself.
"I am a product of you."
"Do you want to prove their points for them? These men, they will be arrested, detained, charged and punished for their crimes. What do you want to show the world?" Xae asked, cocking her head slightly. "How do you want them to think of mutant kind?"
"That's a good ass question. As it stands, the way I see it, we're all human on the inside. Cept for "I'm better than everyone else" over there." He says pointing to Gale. "The difference is that you are humans born with power. And we humans tend to develop superiority complexes. So. Why don't you go ahead. You wanna show me what you really are? Go."
He smiles. Standing his group with his blade sheathed as he wouldn't move an inch towards him. If he wanted to fight, he had to throw the first punch and he had to come to him.
So my internet at home isn't working reliably, was down all last night, crashed a couple times this morning. Called the company, they don't know what's going on but a technician's coming out this Wednesday to take a look. 'Til then it's mobile posts and posts from work only I guess =\
He listened as the claws on her armor scraped subtly as she lifted them, and his scowl intensified. Not only did he pick up on the threat, he languished under it. It drew forth only more of his ire, the energy contained in his palm flowed into his arm as he balled it into a fist, the crackling sparks shooting up and down both arms now.
But he held. He listened to her speak, the blood still pounding in his ears as she outlined the enemy's goals, trying to talk him down even as her posture only grew more menacing, a barbed tail whipping about behind her. "Whatever, you're not worth the time."
He turned away, prepared to march on, when she was approached by the Synthetic Psychopath, they argued, and Holmes was already stepping away when the cyborg suddenly addressed him, his sword pointed to the militiaman at his feet. His long winded speech began, and he took it in, as he did before, but instead of an attempt at quelling his rage the cackling Jackal before him seemed dead set stoking it.
He began to see red, and by the end of the cyberpunk's speech arcs of electricity were running up and down both arms, 50 million volts coursing through his body.
"MY species has been busy? Well guess what mothef*cker so has yours. You didn't blame all the Russians in America for Stalin, you didn't blame all the Germans in America for Hitler, or the Chinese for Pol Pot, so why are we suddenly responsible for that f*cking freak in Venezuela?
What, you think I didn't cry for those people, that we didn't? You think it didn't hurt when the news showed the footage of them burning the bodies? Dumping them into the sea? Those animals are sickening, and what they did was as f*cked up as all the other genocides in the world, but the fact that they're mutants doesn't make us all murderers. We shed as many tears over the loss of all that life as anyone. I'm not one of those mutants from Venezuela, I'm a god fearing, peace loving American citizen, but all I ever get, from ANY OF YOU, is that I'm a goddamn MUTANT! Is that all you people see, is that all I am to you people?!?"
The muscles in his arms clenched as he stared at the rest of the crowd eyes sweeping over all of them before settling on the armor clad, visor wearing pair once more as he visibly calmed himself, shutting his eyes and taking in several deep breaths, whether he was persuaded to by an outside force, or simply possessed the will to do so himself was anyone's guess, but the surges of electricity came from a pulsing roar down to a low crackle.
"I didn't make you. Maybe somebody like me did, but you know what? I'm sure somebody like you made her (Ivana) too." with that he opened his eyes, the deep blue tinged with moving sparks of a lighter cerulean, and left the Jackal with his final words before turning to walk away, the crackling fading away to nothing. "You know what? You freaks deserve each other."
Disoriented, she walked out toward Sentinel Hawk, her hand acting as a visor as she did so. The deputy backed away, beginning to draw his pistol before a firm arm met his, holding it in its holster. The he nodded back to Sentinel Hawk, allowing her to take the prisoner from her filthy prison.
He looked at the jumpy deputy, gently but firmly turning him away from the pair of young girls.
"Get her some proper food, we'll watch over the two of them, make sure nothing goes wrong. I think I saw a diner a couple miles, back, 'Sally's', why don't you try there?"
The deputy was all too eager to leave, and once he did Hansen, the bulkier of the two men, tossed over a flimsy plastic bottle full of water and a kosher MRE he always kept close at hand, "Because you never know when you're gonna have your last meal", apparently. The kosher variety usually tasted better than the others, and while he wasn't a religious man they were a personal favorite of the 6'2" medic.
"Never like having a jumpy gun around, no matter which side it's on. Go ahead and get her some fresh air, but don't wander off too far Hal." With that he stalked off to one side of the clearing, and the shorter, silent man from Maverick, Gary Fontworth, sneer hidden behind his face mask, wandered off to the other, their high powered rifles still at the ready.
As she came further to her senses, still waking from the uneasy sleep she was in, the young Hawk Lord could finally begin to "feel" her heart, and while it was unsteady, tinged by doubt, it was devoted to a greater good. What that good was, however, was still unclear. With a nod she consented to the walk and talk, her bare feet wandering over the grass, and as she paced about the clearing her makeshift prison was transported to a sense of dread began to creep into her companion.
Tears began to stream down the girl's cheeks, a sob breaking forth from the broken girl. Her knees shook as she stopped to wipe her face with a sleeve, her gaze on the metal prison she had occupied for the last several hours. Tagged across its side in the dead of night, in bright orange spray paint the words "You're going to burn bit*h" stared back at her, clearly painted by the hands of a few vindictive students.
Her face still buried in her sleeve, she whispered to herself, just loud enough for the Hawklord to hear "I just wanted to help people..." This much Munoz could tell was true, but even as the girl spoke an overwhelming sense of grief and desolation began to push at the corners of her mind, the girl's emotions bleeding out into the world, touching all around her.
Unstoppable force met immovable object. As depressed as the girl was Sentinel Hawk was eternally optimistic. She only hoped that some of it would bleed into the girl's own emotions. "I know you did." She said gently and enfolded the girl into a warm embrace. She wrapped her wings around her as well, closing her in a loving cocoon. The girl's innocent, they're going to kill an innocent girl. Sentinel Hawk looked up at the cargo container for a moment and then over at the men guarding the place. She returned her gaze down to the girl. "You're innocent. I can tell, I have a way of knowing if someone is good or not and I can feel your kindness, your desire to help people and serve a greater good. You have helped people in your time as a hero and you're going to go right on helping people."
Munoz didn't always get along with other heroes because they didn't understand her forgiving view point, her eternal optimism or her ability to see someone for who they really were. That wasn't about to get any better. Still, she needed to know more, what sort of greater good was she into? She focused her senses more, seeking to feel out her heart a bit more. "Tell me something about yourself." she urged gently. "Not something recent, something nice, that makes you smile when you think about it." She wanted to carry the girl's thoughts away from the danger and the threat to her life and somewhere calming and soothing. Her helmet was recording the entire encounter and she hoped eventually to get to something that might prove her innocence in court. If she was in fact completely innocent Sentinel Hawk had a backup plan that would be...unpopular.
Gale's tail twitched in time with her increasingly irritated mood. She listened to what everyone had to say in silence. It was his parting phrases that sent a combination of boiling anger through her and acceptance of the truth. She lowered her posture a little and completely ignored the comments Jackal had made. He's right. Something did make me, not him certainly the petulant hatchling doesn't know what he's talking about...but I've let the war get to me. I thought it was behind me, but it's still here, it still lingers in my mind and dictates my actions. Look at how I approached this situation. Jackal's an idiot if he really thinks I did what I did because I wanted to play hero. I did it because it was instinct, because I don't trust the people around me because I haven't fought with them before. I should have trusted Maverick's people, I should have warned them.
Xae turned to face Jackal suddenly, pivoting on her heel and coming face to face with him less than a foot away. Her face was impossible to read through the visor and her unusual genetic makeup made scanning difficult to analyze as well. Who knew what was a normal heart rate for her species, whatever species that was? She took a clawed finger and put the tip against Jackal's chest with a light tap. She looked for all the world like she was about to launch into a tirade or correct his impressions. Instead she said the least expected thing. "He's right." She said. "And you almost are." She added and retracted her finger from his chest. "It's got nothing to do with being a hero though. I should have informed you." It was as close to a direct apology as she would get. The mysterious hero had lost all air of mystique and superiority, replaced instead with sad acceptance and the long, never ending memory of a race with a life span longer than recorded history. It took every effort when she woke up each morning to push aside her memories of the war and the death of her mate. Most days she did just fine. Just now though, it was all crashing back in and as always even though it happened millions of years ago it felt as if it had happened an hour ago.
She looked at Jackal for a moment. "Sometimes it's difficult for old soldiers to trust new ones." She told him. This is a different world Xae, just a different world. You shouldn't bother getting involved in their affairs you have no place in them. You'll just cause a bigger mess than they've already started on their own and everyone will resent you for it in the end. Perhaps Maverick could now add something to their likely very small file on Xae, she was or had been a soldier in some sort of war.
Dr. Steele shook her head as she saw the youthful outburst of Holmes. It was a young man who thought he had nothing to lose. Quaint. He had everything to lose, and his little display could be kindling to the fire against all of them. At least Venezuela was closed off to itself for now. This man seemed to bring the fight to the damn doorstep of American mutants. And she had far to much riding on peace at this point to put up with his electrical tantrum.
“Darling, I’m going to have to ask that you calm down before I make it so. You wouldn’t want to spend the rest of your twenties with a sexual obsession with the works of Vincent Van Gogh, would you?” She sent a telepathic thought toward him. “The villains have shown their faces. They will get what’s coming to them, but now is not the time or place. Disrupting a peaceful protest will backfire on all of us.”
Her blue eyes followed the violent youth as he relinquished before Jackal (@maverick_6) and began to walk away from the confrontation. Her golden head turned to the cyborg. “Nicely done, Clint Eastwood. Perhaps the Maverick forces aren’t as useless as I thought.”
@maverick_6: @gale_xanders: @the_psyentist: (Bah, gonna just wrap this up since I have neither the time or means to keep it going, especially with this terrible post schedule. Also, just feels like its just a boring event. =\ )
The march continued, those involved marveled as the crowd of mutants made it to their destination. The core group, those leading the event, kneeled before the capitol building, and prayed. The voices heard varied, but they all shared a common message, a desire for peace, for unity, for respect. Contrary to the HFF sponsored madman's ramblings no further attacks were successful, Maverick, now keen to the weaponry employed by their enemy, managed to subdue or otherwise neutralize the would be terrorists with the help of the armored Xae.
The mutants, for the most part already peaceful, maintained their cool and calm. The fringe element, those who'd joined expecting a battle, were prevented from lashing out by the dual psychic powers and presence of YOUgenics' creations, pacified without their knowledge.
The group, over five hundred mutants that had gathered as a symbol of solidarity and a desire for peace, knelt and followed their compatriots. The mutants, many carrying American flags and wearing their patriotic best, were protected by the military and a silent Cheat, watching from a distance, until they dispersed, nightmarish traffic resulting from their departure, but that was the most of it for most.
A car bomb was discovered underneath the vehicle of presidential candidate Jean Pierre Quentin, and Maverick's forces detected and destroyed two boats anchored in the Gangplank Marina, each equipped with an M224 mortar and several shells, primed to fire on the route to the Capitol building.
The march was over, whether or not these mutants' show of faith in the American government was warranted or even made a difference was still unclear, but it succeeded in showing the world that there were those that did not seek to rule or conquer, kill and purge. There were those that hoped for peace despite the Darwinistic beliefs of their brethren, and they were determined to be heard.
@timesiphon: Sure, not determined to kill her if that's what you're asking. Will the powers that be be thrilled? Probably not. Will a couple of guards from Maverick like you running off with a prisoner they're in charge of? No. It is possible, but there are consequences to be considered for such an act.
@thecatalyst: (I thought it was kinda fun. I didn't do much, but it made for a nice little tie-in for Jean, and I got to meet Maverick in someplace other than WDYCTACAY thread.)
That's perfect. Once she knows for sure the girl is innocent she'll absolutely want to help her and won't stand for her execution. She'll talk to Maverick and not just run off with her but if Maverick is a stickler for it then she'll take her to Thanagar. One of the main points behind Sentinel Hawk is that a lot of heroes don't always get along with or understand her because she sees good in people others see as villains and will be absolutely forgiving of those people.
"Bleh, protesters." Senator Garrick Had a splitting headache. The mutants were making such a racket he couldn't concentrate. He got up, opened his door, and walked out, brusquely greeting the lobbyists and assorted other scum of the capitol. He stretched his arms and sighed. "HEY! WHAT'S THIS ALL ABOUT!"
(All my worst fears realized. I have failed as a host. v_v)
(No but really, it's good to hear it's not as bad as I'd feared. I guess I'll edit or delete the last post and we can play through some of those events, or we can leave it at that. Whatever you guys prefer.)
@thecatalyst: (Awww. Don't be silly! If we had more activity on the vine, this would have been buzzing! It's a good idea. Just not enough people to play both sides. You did well! Let's see what Maverick posts and go from there?)
@grantgarrick: (I'll address this in a sec bud, just gotta get my chronological bearings straight, sine I don't know Wha stage the protest is in and won't until we decide the fate if the RP, for now its in limbo.)
His head tilted, seemingly out of contemplation of Holmes' words as he spoke. He didn't try to counter him point for point. Only listened, his facial expression rather flat. Neither with intense anger, or sadness. His smile was still there, but it was seemingly, more subtle. Not the wide, arrogant grin that came to his face before. Heat from being near the explosion had burned away temporary skin. Revealing the artificial, permanently grafted armor that lied beneath, intricately unraveling and taking a more practical shape as his chin was covered. He covered his left eye, despite it functioning completely optimally. A luminescent red glint manifesting in other eye.
"I remember something about what Nelson Mandela said, vaguely. Something about "feeding the circle of hatred." Or somethin' like that?"
His eyes then go towards Xae (@gale_xanders) as she approaches him. He looks at her, the area still chaotic with paramedics swarming all over the place, soldiers tailing the mutant group and standing near them. He looked straightly eye to eye with her, his grin not fading. Widening even by the way she confronted him. As he was silently goading her on. Her claw popping out guns were raised. Jackal took his sword and placed it within it's own sheath as she raised her own weapon towards him.
He did not lean away from her claw as she pressed it against his chest. He leaned into it, continuously holding a long, deepening gaze into her expressionless visor as if he wished to perhaps peer into what was beneath it. Seeing if he could find, anger. To see if he'd spited her. He motioned then men to lower their weapons. It was
"What's the matter? I strike a nerve? Feeling Upset a group of humans out did you, Miss oh so Superior?"
However, upon hearing her response, his brow arched upon her mentioning the words "And you almost are." Her admitting he is even partially right defied his expectations of her. Showing even a small portion of modesty made him think differently of her. Mentioning of soldiers and basis in Carson's descriptions in the Jurassic World already mentioned enhanced strength, speed, her inventive intellect and things much beyond just their scanners. Nemaz could measure her heart rate simply by being in her presence, and could identify her organic molecules from her scent as could generally anyof Maverick's, to even have a great idea of what she is composed of. Her identity was something long known to them in general. But was only available to certain parties.
He knew exactly who she was, but mentioned none of it.
"So, your a soldier and you get off when people fear you, huh? Guess you and I aren't that different "Xae." It's been nice chatting, but White Knight over there probably doesn't need me to babysit him. Probably best to go stand in front of the ones that aren't bulletproof. Though, come to think of it, this probably would have gone a lot better if you all decided to use bulletproof mutants. But oh well. Ladies."
He bows briefly before taking his leave and tailing the crowd. His hand rested on the hilt of his sheathed blade. Ever ready to strike.
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