614azrael

@ran:

It was hard to escape this place, a haven for her kind and a her home for almost all her life. Even now she couldn't help but roam the outskirts of the wall being close to her own people. That said the living atom bomb never felt particularly angered or spiteful for her exile. When you housed extremists there was a reason to attack. As great as Ivana was, her past made it all to likely to draw opposition. Although not as popular to the crosshairs of the world Azrael also could prompt such action. She'd tried twice to nuke Washington DC the fact she was even a live was a testament to her resilience and the broken response system of governments whenever Maverick wasn't there to do the work for them.

As the radioactive revolutionary ventured through the brush and spots of small outskirt villages a figure approached her. Clad in black and white firm fitting attire it went without saying it was a meta out to be something. Mutant probably if she was around here. A target like paint scheme said probable accuracy based skills or powers. Azra instantly somewhat curious to see what such a woman could do against Alex, the Apex archer who had exiled Azrael. As the situation was a hospitable one though Azra offered her hand in return, her grip firm and tense enough to imply she'd of turned it violent if she had to. Her legacy made her skeptical of most people.

"Do all you can to give mutants and outcasts of Gothic a home, to tell them they don't have to fear the rest of the world and you gain some fame. Nuke a corner of Gothic and twice try to reduce DC to ashes and people don't want you in town."

12:00 AM

Rain falls in mass streets filling slightly as the skies cry out in anger. Lightning turns the sky bright as day for moments at a time. Air becomes almost as cold as winter strangely enough despite the rain. Something dark making its way if the scarlet soldier had to guest. A call out to her, traveling over roaring thunder and the mutant who dares to associate herself with the name of death has an idea who it is. He briefly met her in the bout with the newly appointed president. A sword her way a silent promise of an engagement to come should she have survived the conflict.

Well she had and now here he was vermilion mask and all. Heat radiated off the radioactive reaper, keeping her unnaturally dry as the rain evaporated around her. "Your right, I don't nor will I. Your just another kill by the end of the night, or I'm dead." She had the power to level cities in her hand, she couldn't bother to try and remember everyone she killed, otherwise it'd eat at her sanity. She wasn't a costumed bat themed vigilante, she was out to destroy whatever she thought a risk to her people.. The weight of her actions demanded an element of detachment. Then came a question and her answer was a simple one.

"Yeah I do. So where do we go from here?' Her hands went to fold behind her back, subtly reaching for a kukri and pistol should things go the violent rout she suspected.

@selene_liafador: can't please everyone but updates are usually a good thing(minus the cv updates those nerds break this site so often lol).

I'll leave ya be ^.^ got to go brainstorm some posts n stuff

Aren't we all nerds by default :P we're writing characters inspired by comics it's the "nerd" that unites are asses

@damien_bonaparte: I had one in Fables but that didn't take off, I could revisit the character if wanted though

unless I got a decapitation or something to sell I'm done. Throw me in your bunker or prison or basement or lab or whatever

@_reynard_: @purveyor:

Her fist draws close a reaper's hand looking to grasp at one's soul and drag it away. What originally looks like neon nail polish becomes a series of bombs luminous and packing as much punch as some of the world's deadliest weaponry. Sharp words come her way, and the fact is they are justified. She was objectively speaking dirty, she came from the mess of Venezuela and was a mutant with horrific powers. She was broken, her eye was a mangled mess, potentially even gone, and she had no home a terrorist to most nations and a liability to others. However this was not all she could amount to. Precision was something she knew, and she acted with a motive. A radioactive revolutionary she didnt need the president to see the strugle of mutants. Rather just that her people knew the oppression didn't have to be stood for. When one person could be an army what was the armed forces nations waved around. People held more power then politicians.

Impresive armor took in every blast, absorbed all the volatile energy dumped out of the vermilion vixen who distributed nuclear violence. From that armor in its patronizing colors came a dispersal of light redirecting the volatile barage toward the radioactive revolutionary. Which she to took in, some of her clothes burned as her telkenetic defenses were softened by her planned counter. Azrael though retained her defiant image, tanking the nuclear energy for it was the very kind of thing that she could be born again from. A counter however demanded timing and so her backlash was not instantaneous. Someone else was coming in to combo off the president's attack and she wanted him here for it. Earth rattled and glass shattered as the purple outfitted hero came at her. Hands would grip around her throat squeezing against her telkenetic defenses with their own mental force.

Fists around her throat energy shot back into her figure the explosive extremist channels it into amplifying a retaliation. With allies gone from the scene do to previous action it turned out she didn't need to hold back at all. However her chocking adversary had better telekinesis and she knew he likely would counter her actions on some level. So her attack was a layered one. It started with the explosion, using stacked up energy from previous moves to amplify the destructive force of her latest move. Doubling the inferno of the nuclear blast Azrael sought to engulf the city in two hundred million degrees Celsius. Roughly six kilometers were within essentially a vaporize zone. Azra didn't expect herself to obliterate the city however, none of her antics had worked even if the opposition had been a bit tired out she didn't have much hope in the amplified warhead. That was where the telekinetic use came in, hopefully defending against this blast would mitigate most other counters. Especially sense the thermonuclear energy she didn't plan to let dissipate till she was unconscious. Throat being squeezed it was going to happen she was simply capitalizing on the seconds before then.

Her body generated enough destructive force to almost rip her apart, clothes burning, blood boiling in the wake of her atomic antics. Asphalt bubbled and oxygen was gone as energy enough to rival a star looked to engulf anyone it could. As it did this however mentally the rebellious reaper tried to grip at the armored region that had opened to launch a beam at her seconds before. She tried to pry those circuits wires and plating apart. To make the president in his Stark knock off endure the wrath of a sun. Like most of the previous Elite force of Venezeula her telekinetic abilities were advanced however she was cautious. That was why she had made a large play in the nuclear display and telekinetic tearing. So that a smaller ploy could be made, looking with her mind to grip where the president's heart was. She sought to take hold of that space and crush it, turning vital organ into a fruit squeezed until nothing more. However almost instantly after that resilience to last until the attack was made, Azrael would collapse. Unconscious and ultimately at the disposal of whoever was left alive.

@_drake:

it does slow post process a bit cause now that I can I have to lol

kinda wanted to wait till there was more stuff. That post felt short and lower on selling then i wanted. But I want more to get back to posting as quickly and as much as possible so

@d-o-m-o-d: @neuromind: @silver_spider_: @purveyor:

Allies were the best and worst of things the radioactive reaper thought to herself. As a series of hazmat wearing soldiers entered the fray peppering the air with weapons fire it was clear Azra had back up which was good. However it also meant she needed to reign her attacks in so as to not assault companions in the ongoing conflict. Granted it also meant the armored legion wasn't entirely focused on her, it was a mixed bag. Diving into the complexities of the ordeal however was a time consumer that she couldn't bother with. Support was here so tactics had to change. No prolonged spiel of plans or strategy the destructive force would almost symbiotically flow into a different form of combat. Years of experience and military drills put to use. Barreling down on her a trio of mechs looking to get into point blank range with an atomic bomb. Meanwhile the spider was in the air in the middle of a classic move of his kind. Her tactic was a simple one.

A controlled explosion traveling in a lateral fashion before bursting in the air. She didn't want to level everything like her previous moves but in a way this was better. A more inventive attack more befitting of admirable foes around her, first motion of the explosive action was to drop the scarlet savage down into a sudden crater. Resulting in the convergence of melee attacks to pass her by. If they had hit her equilibrium would of been completely shot and her alluring features battered and broken. Instead let them strike air or maybe even each other. Within this downward dodge was also the counter. A geyser of an explosion that looked to encompass melee opposition in the furious inferno of nuclear fision. Core of a nuclear explosion in controlled form Azrael sought to bathe attackers in a hundred million degrees Fahrenheit. Within the peak of the blast would come a far more radial detonation. Intended to not only burn out the webbing sent her way but hopefully the webbing sent towards the hazmat suit waring faction. Being air born the bombastic beauty also believed she might be so lucky as to catch the spider in the blast.

Rising to feet a bit hazy and unbalanced but far from unyielding the revolutionary looked to the anointed president. "Yeah, but it feels good going on my own terms. Let me go first."

Shooting forward like a rocket vermilion hair danced behind her like a commet tail as a fist looked to strike the dome of the president. At the last moment before probable block, hit or dodge her hand opened as if to go for a palm strike. Trailing behind the motion of each finger though was a marble sized globe. Each sphere of energy was controlled enough to have a radius no larger then a conventional frag grenade. Behind each bomb however the city leveling destructive force Azrael tossed about with casual ease. She didn't care if she died because moments like this showed that mutants could have the power of the greatest weapons by simple genetics. A superior breed was what she was apart of. Consecutive atomic warheads the self destructive sirens way of trying to paint such a picture.