The Glorious Revolution - Congress of Vienna

Since the time of the first super powered beings, those that fought for justice have all convened in secret every year. This secret meeting was known to be called The Conference it was hosted by men without powers that believed in what was right. Generation after generation the warriors would meet at a different location throughout the world chosen by the union. It was a meeting to interact with others super powered individuals that shared the same goal of fighting for what is right. They also had a very strict rule in The Conference that absolutely no powers would be used while it took place. It was meant to be a time of peace between the champions of justice.

This particular meeting was taking place in Vienna; historically known as the Congress of Vienna. All major representatives from the European Powers were meeting here to discuss options; International Super-human police forces; the potential of a European Registration act; and steps they could take to prevent another Warsman incident. A thick film of odorless gas surrounded the building, preventing the use of powers a double edge sword for both heroes and villains whom thought about attending.

The United Nations supplied a gang of coalition forces to protect the building from any harm; armored tanks as well as snipers atop buildings.

La Malaguena timed her assault perfectly; Warsman had launched an assault on Massachusetts; a move that had the attention of the “defenders of justice.

The graceful woman from Malaga was seated in the circle of this conference moonlighting as a politician. “Warsman is a threat not to just one nation, but all nations” she argued, gaining approval from the council.

“What about a registration act?” a representative from France yelled. “Look how well that’s doing in America, they’re still on the verge of extreme civil unrest; you don’t want that for a whole continent” Z refuted doing her best to quell talks of registration.

“Well then what do you think we should do?” The German representative asked; although Z wasn’t the official spokesperson for Spain; the Spanish representative thought it’d be best to let the well respect Malaguena answer the questions.

“Here’s an option, each country creates a Council for International Affairs and places a Superhuman in charge of Super-human relations” Z said, confidentially. As she spoke; she could see the faces of the cabal sitting in the seats behind the governments.

“We will have to think on that decision Ziccarra, that’s a huge step to place someone with…powers in charge of foreign policy.” The German rep said, pushing away from the table.

As they sat in a brief silence; the sound of organized marched shook the foundation of the tower. “What’s that?” Z said, glancing out the window.

Hundreds of her Red Cardinals, dressed in black marched through the streets of Vienna; hidden in black to conceal the identity of the organization; the Black assassin begin to engage with the U.N forces outside.

“The…supers…they’re inside…” Z said, gasping playing to the illusion that she was a politician. Fighting between the heavily armed Cardinals and the Military soon made every news headline over Europe. The Cabal’s assault on Europe had begun.

Under the guise of Donald Wurdstrom, the Glorious was able to manipulate his way into the clandestine conference with relative ease. Though it was the real Donald Wurdstrom, armament supplier for much of the Eastern Hemisphere, his mind was inhabited by the Glorious' great influence. As the German representative made his claim against the audacious aristocrat that was Ziccarra Liafador Donald rose from his seat as well, mimicking the posture of a younger man. "With powers? What exactly do you mean with powers? Were we all not considered powers before the introductions of super beings? As the world grows and progresses we must learn to move along with it. Adapt or die. Its how or ancestors did it, and how we're going to do. I for one will not be made to wait by the pretentious discriminators around us. I demand action--"

The words were cut off by the rumbling of tanks and sounds of gun fire. La Malaguena wasted no time in inciting an offensive maneuver against the conference. Outside fighting commenced, ushered in by the black clad warriors of the Cardinal regime. Amidst the battle stood the Glorious dressed in all black with an enigmatic mask. White circular stripes ran across the front, marking used for a powerful form of illusion casting. Anyone who glanced the mask was susceptible to a never ending loop of death and dismay. Using twin glock .35's and superior speed the conqueror navigated the masses, efficiently dropping the numbers of the U.N.'s forces with visceral marksmanship.

A tank was all that stood between him and the doors. He smiled as the long nose barrel of the M1 Abram aligned itself with his human form. Slow steps allowed the Glorious to position himself between the tank and the outer walls of the conference facility. "Fools," he muttered as they tank fired a shell straight through the immortal, reducing the wall to rubble and creating hole for the leagues of cardinals to infiltrate. A maniacal cackle escaped his lips as he snapped his fingers. The tank combusted in a crescendo of flame and debris on cue.

The man in the hypnotic mask used his unmitigated speed to traverse the floors in seconds. Now he was behind La Malaguena, gun trained on the back of her cranium. "This is what you wanted right Donald? Everybody knows about that two hundred and fifty thousand dollar hit you put out on Ziccarra Liafador. Wanted her out of the conference did you? Are you ready to have her blood on your hands? Are any of you ready?!" The last sentence was accompanied by a waving pistol, guided around the room and pointed in the direction of every member in attendance. "Too long you mortals have been allowed to convene in secret, making decisions for lands that you will never step a foot in. The war outside these walls is as much your own and the blood spilled will be complimented with your own!"

The alleyway was dark, void of almost all light. One could hear the scittering feet of rats, the gleeming eyes of felines watching every motion. Just waiting to pounce, the rats themselves were also predators in a way. Diseased and infected one bite might be the end of the cat or perhaps even a human being. A person like the filthy poor man sleeping by the trash bin. One close look and a soul might see the thick protrusions around him. A closer look would reveal it as a python, the man was a snake charming mutant a predator serving as his guardian and pet. Within the sleeping snake charmers hands was a empty bottle in the left and a bloodied knife in the right. Indeed this small passage was filled with predatory creatures, fiends and killers all. And yet they all would weild as she dropped into the alley.

The rats scampered away into hiding, beedy eyes looking up at her wide from holes in walls. The cats leaped away hissing at their distant perch. Meanwhile the snake slithered away out of sight and out of mind, of course the snakes owner could not be so wise. He raised the blade and started rambling like a fool. How dare she come here, who was she, what was she, a dozen slurred questions escaped the fools tongue. Then as senses came to him he became apologetic, begging, pleeding. He knew her, she had been in that controversial DC moment or whatever. His guard dropped knowing he was facing a superior predator. His revelation however had no true effect on the predictable outcome of things.

"Remember how far you fell, remember the lives you took and how they were superior to yours. Remember every scar you suffered, reflect on the suffering you brought....and live not." The words sank into the mans mind, his thoughts twisting to respond to what was said. Fortitude warping into depression, brought on by a force the man could not understand. Tears streamed from his eyes, his hand rose. A silver tip reflecting what little light was in the alley pressed against the neck. A keen eye could see something wet begin to run down the contours of the jugular. This was followed by a faint riping sound, the audible noise of parting flesh. More wet drops began to flow and the body fell. A corpse before a superior predator a superior being. A religious leader who unknown to most was more then just a paladin or priest, but rather a Sith Lord. A embodiment of the dark side of the universe, her touch was far reaching and today would reach even further. Her name was Mishelia Starend, but most knew her as Lady Coven.

Stepping into the streets her head swayed to observe the entirety of the situation. A movement that was somewhat puzzeling to the sniper who zoomed in on her. The black and red clad woman was hooded and blindfolded what could she possibly see? Of course they had no idea of the complexities of what she was. And from the sniper nest up high the hooded false saint was mistaken for a crazy woman. There was a battle being waged in the streets he had no time to take shots at a crazy woman. This meant Lady Coven could go about her business, no snipers eye was on her with all the calamity in the streets. A step back into the darkness and she was ready. Boots as black as pitch kicked off one wall, before kicking off the parallel wall in a well executed action of timing and a mystic force repeling laws of gravity. And with perpetual grace she landed on the roof of the towering structure, the sniper nest on top of the senate building was clear in sight.

In a single bound she crosses the distance, a seamingly impossibly far jump made with ease. It was almost more like flight in motion then a simple leap. All smoking barrels swayed to her, locking onto her position. This building blocked off abilities dampend almost all capabilities. The sith lord could still see and hear though that was all. The force was a faint echo when near this building, an echo was all it took however. She had studdied those mystic arts on both sides for many years, a untold amount of time mastering them. Using them to defy the laws of the universe. An echo was all required for her to perform at a level that was bordering on supernatural. Soft click, duck and rounds pass over her head. The air is hot from the speed at which they moved. Her turn, a mechanical snap comes and two blasters are in her hands. Two quick moves, four shots, and four dead bodies performed in a heart beat. A lunge, perfectly timed, the two rounds pass by her almost as if she'd peered into the future to see what might come. Two more shots are fired striking the fifth guard in the head. Lady Coven lands and her two concealed guns retract to her sleaves. A gentle push and thhe last sniper is knocked off the ledge. Plummeting to the concrete below.

With grace and poise the Sith makes way through the halls. Silent steps as she enters the conference acting as if it was always her right to be there. No grand gesture or noble speach, just a woman at the door pressant to the event. Her hands resting at ease on the ornate cane she had with her.

The sound of sporadic gun fire filled the streets; bodies littered the streets from both sides; for miles people could be heard running for life. Huge explosions ripped through the city of Vienna as Cardinal and UN forces clashed. The Golden Goddess descended from the heavens down to the streets below; her red and blue costume had been a symbol in Chicago and New York; but now Fantasy Hopewell had come to Vienna to engage in a conflict many others sought to ignore.

She landed forcefully; taking the attention off the UN taskforce and placing it on herself. The dust around her slowly began to disperse and the bright “S” could be seen on her sternum. Flying through the rapid gunfire, bullets pelleted off Fantasy deflecting them into whomever was stupid enough to be in her way.

Truth of the matter was, Fantasy received a tip from Samantha of the Braveharts; the Cardinals had been moving high concentrated amounts of a specialized toxin to New York City. It just so happened that Fantasy was on her way to Malaga; when this Vienna conflict broke out.

“Fantasy how are you fairing down there?” Samantha asked, coming in loudly over Fans commlink. “I’m done pretty well, but it appears that these Cardinals are…Austrian…” she said, confused.

“La Malaguena doesn’t have ties to the Austrian government” Samantha replied checking her dossiers. “No but, your brother does…” Sha responded, making a dash towards the UN.

Making it to the front line of the battle, she could see the U.N forces having trouble pressing them back. “There are too many of them!” Fantasy screamed, watching as the assassin group seemingly multiplied sense her first assault.

“You can’t take them out by yourself!” one of the American soldiers said, trying to bring Fantasy back to their side of the front lines. “B!tch Please, I’m Sha” Fantasy said, with a smirk; flying towards the advancing Cardinals.

New York

“People are scared of what they can’t see, people fear the unknown” The young Liafador sat in front of a camera; dressed in an elegant dress with a huge split up the right side. Her hands were placed comfortably on her knee’s mimicking the demeanor of her tutor, La Malaguena. “In the mind of your opponent, you must become more than just a man or woman; that’s why I will manifest myself in your homes, in your work places, in your malls”

Cat smiled viciously; “Mask Knights; known as the Phantom Family; you risk your lives defending a city that has become so corrupt that my officials have infiltrated the Mayor’s office down to the managerial spots at McDonalds.

“In Nine days, my army will street sweep the streets of New York; and I shall deliver the final blow with my weaponized toxin. New York City, the city that never sleeps…you have just been tucked it”

The young Cardinal had moved on both Z and the Cabal in the waning days; the cabals’ shaky foundation and Z’s new love interest in Quintus Knightfall; the stars were aligning in favor for a Cardinal Rule.

Dressed in the typical red ninja shinobi shozoko uniform as just another member of the Red Cardinal organization, Quintus Knightfall had spent the last two months infiltrating the clandestine group of expert killers. His torrid love affair with the Spanish illusionist Zaccarra Liafador only serving to complicate matters as he continued to try and persuade the lovely leader to simply walk away before it was to late. But as the once vibrant streets of Vienna continued to deteriorate into combat chaos, the Perennial Polymath found himself in an un-winnable situation. On routine patrol with his fellow Cardinal brethren rounding up and processing UN troops for execution, the Knightfall Ninja decided it was time to act. In-spite of the fact that the World's hero population had remained relatively uninvolved pitting one man, the Living Weapon, against the woman he loved, her private army, and a yet to be relieved secret cabal of super-villains. Despite being completely outnumbered the young Knightfall held an aura of supreme confidence, secure in his recently unlocked telepathic ability and his prestigious evolution as the newest Keijijo Impero. A title he held and maintained with the highest degree of respect. Two quick spinning elbow strikes and down went the Red Cardinals in his company. Taking the precious moments now afforded, Quintus ripped the crimson tinted garb off revealing his ceremonial Keijijo vest and pants, including the alabaster expressionless mask of the legendary Impero's. "Its time" he thought. Sending out a sweeping telepathic message to his Keijijo clansmen hidden throughout the city. In the past it had been the strict order and decree of the Keijijo to remain as simple observers to the World and its conflicts, but not anymore. The U.N. would be helpless against the forces of the Red Cardinal queen and as such Quintus felt it was his obligation to rectify the situation. Within moments, led by their masked martial arts messiah, the hooded robed Keijijo clan took to the streets engaging the Red Cardinals in an epic cinematic confrontation. Hopefully as news of the utter devastation and clamoring of yet another war coming directly on the heels of the Registration War, the World's heroes would step up and take the initiative.

@Glorious: @Ziccarra_Liafador:

Cementing the Red Cardinal role as the Malagan Ambassador, Hadrian emerged from the council audience. "Coercion and terrorism is the most barbaric tactic you could possibly use to attain what you want, ." The Siene Prince turned his back to La Magulena and the Anonymous Terrorist, facing the diplomats. "Mutants are real, gentlemen. And refusing to create policy for there existence will be your downfall." From his comfortable seating Larent Fabius (French Minister of Foreign and European Affairs) glared at the Sienese Diplomat, "Your country defines terrorism!" Hadrian understood Larent's comment served as the default statement any French diplomat spat out when addressing the Sienese Kingdom. He mentally deflected the statement and filtered across the room with blurring speed and streamlined for the man holding the Malagan Ambassador hostage. With astonishing speed and simultaneous motion, he punched at the man's wrist to disarm his weapon and gripped his forearm to execute a herculean shoulder throw to send him reeling across the room and into the adjacent wall.

Sitting in the confessional booth in complete silence, the heavy set man on the opposite side of the wooden partition rumbled to his feet and exited. As he did so he stealthily slid a silver coated brief case under the purple satin curtain into the waiting hands of Father Giuseppe. Immediately he began sorting through the various articles of information as well as ten thousand dollars in small non-sequential denominations. A fake passport and an extensive dossier on his target rounded out the specialized items. Pulling the white cardboard collar free from around his neck it wasnt long before Father Giuseppe was outside the church absent his religious garb. Blending in with the casual citizen with a pair of DKNY dark shaded jeans, a simple white short sleeved CK t-shirt underneath a short cut two collar black leather jacket with double layer notched lapels, aiding in his casual visage was a vintage watch he had taken from Ziccarra's father after his murder. Weaving around tourist and local spectators the Vatican Assassin skillfull stirred clear of the escalating violence between the Cardinals and UN security officers. Gathering an elongated duffel bag from a trash reciprocal in a nearby ally, the authenticated assassin swiftly made his way up the winding stairwell in the building across from the chaotic council meeting. After finally reaching the roof he took up a snipers position along the low hanging wall while diligently assembling his rifle. Through the high powered telescopic scope the unfolding drama in the adjacent building was visually displayed. A lone gunman holding the entire room captive, primarily the Vatican Assassin's target, Z, was quickly set upon by another member in attendance. With speed and graceful precision the unknown individual struck out targeting the gunman's wrist. As he did so Father Giuseppe lined up the only shot he could and fired. With any luck he had just completed a murderous trilogy that had started back when Z was 21 years old and the death of her parents. And now, on the verge of securing a European Union of complete dominance, a single bullet aimed to change the course of history with her death.