Futuristic Aegis: Error 508

[Gus]

Manami Hamasaki

​

Location: Beach
Mood: Tired
Company: Red and Riley
Teh Frixz Zahzi ManicMuse ​

Manami's grin faded as Sensei spoke behind her, the initial pleasure at seeing her old playmate fading as she considered the wider implications.

"Dunno, sensei. I bet he eats too much. What will I tell the director? He followed me home, can I keep him? Not only that, I think the naval station at Annapolis might like a 'by your leave' before we go sailing a Kaiju up the Chesapeake, don't you? Plus, he can't go through Panama, so the trip home'd be..." She thought for a moment. "...like 20,000 miles? That's over a week, even for me, and I don't think Skittles is that fast."

" Just a sec, Riley is liable to hurt herself..."

Without taking her eyes off of the giant sea serpent, she keyed her throat mike. "Authorization: Manami-hitotsu-mitsu-nanatsu, kill playback. Riley? 'Here comes the blue skies, here comes the springtime.' Cool-down time, soldier."

She crouched down, cleaning her stingers on the sand of the beach before retracting them, never breaking eye contact with the beast in the bay. She knitted her brow, thinking hard. Something didn't add up, and she couldn't get a handle on what was bothering her. She could feel herself fading. Gavin Dabbs's suit was amazing, but fighting on land still took it out of her. Thinking was much harder than fighting; fighting came to her as naturally as swimming, whereas thinking--well, that had been discouraged most severely by her handlers. She only really started thinking after she escaped. To this day, she still does her best thinking deep down, in the black.

Her eyes narrowed. Where had Skittles been during her reconnoiter of the island?

"Grandm- ...Matron Green must have an underwater access point to her lab facilities somewhere. I'll get Skittles to take me there and report back. And look after Riley, won't you Sensei? She's always a little loopy after-action. Loopier than usual. She shouldn't be left alone."

She stood up, tapped off her mike and cupped her hands by her mouth.

"Sukitorozu!"

"Rawr?"

"MANAMI DESU!"

"Rawr."

"IE NI TSURETEITTE, NA? WAKATE?

"Rawr-rawr..."

Skittles heaved his considerable bulk backwards in a majestic arc, crashing into the sea with a mighty plume of water and disappeared, leaving behind a mighty wave, rising rapidly as the harbor concentrated it towards the beach.

"Show-off!" Manami grumbled. "Back shortly!" she called over her shoulder as she leapt over the wave, cut water, and vanished from sight.

 

[Damafaud]

Adrian Ward, White Rabbit​

Mood: Excited, curious
Location: Some office with monitors
Company: Gramps is with his heart
Other: I should have asked for a larger backpack
Tags:

Through a cake-mixture like layer, Adrian surfaced in an empty room that lacked human presence. He climbed out of the flooring and heaved a breath out. Finally, he took off the restrictive flippers and snorkel. They weren't comfortable without his power.

He had hit the jackpot with the security room. WAL made it difficult for his see-through vision to see the content of the rooms clearly, so he only chose the one that had no movement. Adrian watched the flickering monitor with interest. Another vision beyond human limitations!

As expected, Gramps made a mess out of everything. Foxbat, too. He even had a glance of Manami, the fish lady that was also in 108 once upon a time. Then, the monitor showed a pristine casket inside a morgue. Adrian grinned. Bingo, the target! He rummaged through his bag for a communication device. It took a while to find the right channel; he wasn't used to it.

Soon, a cheery, youthful voice came through the device. "White Rabbit to Gramps! I'm in the security room some place underground and it's empty. One of the camera showed a casket in a place that looks like a morgue, so that's probably the dead Demeter lady but the casket is closed, so you need to check if someone is really inside and if that's really her. Oh, and it's all clear here for now, I don't really see anyone around here. Over."

After the long report, Adrian fumbled more to put on the earpiece that came with the device. It would be a disaster if the radio broke his subterfuge. Only the hums of electronics filled the room. For once, he felt the nerve from the magnitude of this operation.

Adrian kept to the wall; doorways lost their meaning with his power. They were the most likely to be guarded, so he did not bother with them. However, as he waddled through the concrete, something blocked his passage. Adrian emerged in a long hallway, his face resurfacing on the wall with a contemplative look. At the end of the corridor lay a door. And inside... was something he couldn't see.

Adrian knew of two cases when something so close could block his see-through vision: either that something is a wall of flesh, or that wall has a strong limiter field from it.

"White Rabbit to Gramps. I found an area protected by a strong area limiter. Over." He whispered before submerging into the walls once more. Limiters were power extensive and expensive. If it was used to protect an area, that place was certainly worth looking into.

"Should I bash in with a sledgehammer? Over?" Adrian considered violence with a whisper.

Zahzi

 

[ManicMuse]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

Mood Been Better

Location Bathroom > Staging Area

Outfit Kevlar+Ghillie Suit

Fun Fact Mushrooms can really sing!

Tag Zahzi Red Coin FOXBAT Damafaud White Rabbit Malikai LimeLight Syrenrei Evermore Necessity4Fun The Conductor Giyari Argent welian NPCs

Paddestoel

/* ------ right side ------ */

A warm, monotone, masculine voice, "Auditory description on. Forest with thick tall redwood trees. Slowly moving over an open stream to a fallen log. Cuts to an internal view of the log, showing a termite colony busy at work."

The narrator's voice takes over with faint chimes playing in the background, "Here in the beautiful forests of Washington State National Park, we find the humble but mighty termite. The natural carpenter of the land." The documentary droned on in the oversized headset that lay on the floor.

Only a few feet away stood what many would consider an alien foot. The hallux, or what used to be a big toe, now took the place of a heel of the foot curled in, resting the majority of the weight on the knuckle. Four spindly finger-like toes sprawled out at the front of the foot, tapping in progression. Sofie's naturally gray, drab hue looked mainly green around the face. Swiping a string of drool from her charcoal lips, she flicked the dispenser, fingernails shredding the cheap thin paper towel as she crinkled it up to wipe away the water around the sink. Motion sickness was the worst.

It was not the flying; she had to give the pilots props. The weather reports had been updating on her tablet the entire flight. It had been impressive they had not run into more turbulence along the way. The motion sickness had come from another source, the others.

The agents.

The Blue cards.

The career lackeys, like herself.

Her spores had not been that condensed, to begin with. She had purposely picked a seat in the back cargo section. Little did she know EVERYONE was coming along for this mission. Sofie managed the sensory overload for a bit of the flight until that sneeze. It was that one agent who was to blame. There were rules about spraying stuff around others. Sofie had learned that social rule herself and had the lesson reviewed many times. Ordinary people do not like having spores spread in their faces without warning. Sofie had tried to hold it in, but that only compounded the sneezes. Spores had flooded the interior. While the details of her condition had been included in the dossier, it was still a bit off-putting to many close to her area. With the crews shuffling, munching, and chattering, it did not take long for her visual range to grow. Oh, so many bodies, moving, breathing.

'Ewww, that guy just picked his nose and ate it!'

Too much input. Between the normal movement from the plane and shifting bodies, Sofie felt her stomach flip within the first hour. She had pulled out her tablet and worked to keep herself busy reviewing the mission data, but it did not help. Retreating to the lavatory muffled a good bit of the unwanted input. Traveling in the toilet room, it was. Sofie had tuned out the background chatter until a sudden change in cabin pressure, followed by a rapid loss of visual range, hinted to happenings beyond the door.

'Ahhh, I should have done that.'

Boom. The ripple of the explosions gave her a jump scare; at least it did not make contact with the plane.

Sofie massaged her temples before moving back to rest on the closed toilet seat, bending over to retrieve her headphones. Dense spore accumulation within the restroom painted a clear picture of the loo. While it was a relief to have the spores beyond freed, Sofie had little interest in departing from her cubby yet. The whistling of air slipping out under the door reminded her that she would be blind behind that door.

'Nope,' she mused, returning the headphones to her ear holes. Sofie would wait until signs required evacuation or, the better option, a controlled landing.

Touchdown. Rubber wheels bouncing on the tarmac. Time to get in and then get the hell out.

Switching the setting on her headphones to more mission-oriented channels, details began to come in from others as Sofie's form loomed over the elephant in the tiny room. Wadded up beside the toilet was a mass of moss, reeds, and kevlar.

"Ghillie suit. You would think they could make it less itchy."

Uttering her displeasure with the suit, Paddestoel wriggled into it, strapping down the bullet resistance section around her lungs. Packing her tablet into the custom pocket on the side, she stood facing the door.

It was time. The red-occupied sign flicked to a green vacant as the seven-foot-tall monstrous form of a mushroom thing ducked a bit and turned sideways to clear the slender opening. To her relief, much of the staff were carting out equipment by the time she reached the back hanger. Pulling down a mic from a hidden compartment on the left side, an exaggerated gray finger flicked on the switch microphone feature as she walked out into the open runway.

Paddestoel arched both shoulders forward, pushing all the air from her lungs. Dozens of sacs below the knee were visible beneath the trailing mossy suit and collapsed in unison while capped gills on her shoulder and neck began to quiver. Rolling both arms back, she inhaled. The kevlar vest rippled, exposing hidden expansion pleats that allowed room for the chest to grow visibly wider. An audible faint hiss gurgled in her throat before she raised her head to the sky and expelled a cloud of what looked like palm tree pollen bellowing like a plague from her blackened lips.

Opening her mic, deep, violent, rattling vibrations rippled for the chambers in her forehead, traveling along the lines receiving her input. The tones were too low for ordinary ears to pick up on, but those with enhanced senses might pick up on it. The sonar rippled through the space, pinging off spores throughout the area; even some had been sucked out of the plane during Red's evasive maneuvering.

(The Sound)

The incoming storm would quickly spread her little cloud to fill in more details.

"Paddestoel holding at staging post, over."


Turning toward a pop-up tent being erected, she stalked off to find something she suspected was a cluster of mushrooms singing nearby the growing staging area.

Better to let the others go in guns blazing. That was not her specialty. She was better at biding her time until the hand at play was evident.

It was a shame her visual range had not spread wide enough yet to display the more dangerous creatures already around.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[Ozmic]

F R A C T U R E

Desmond Romero​

- - - - -
Mood: Pain, Anxiety, Hope?
Location: Unknown
Company: Dreams, Nightmares, Hallucinations, Memories
Other: "You are far too important to die here."
Tags: Frightening flashback collaboration with Zahzi
- - - - -​

Minutes, hours, days, weeks ticked by. Desmond found himself unable to wrap his mind around the passage of time.

There was no sunlight here, just humming blue light for all hours and random scuffling, voices from far away that he couldn't be sure were even there are all.

He slammed his fist against the table he was strapped to, trying to will himself upright, worn and weary muscles giving up after mere moments.

Trying to shout, the usually strong tones came out only as whispers that lulled him into the dark once more.

- - - - -

A deafening blast shook the earth as the conflict continued through what was once a city park, the ground scarred in scorch marks and debris as a single entity encroached on the others. “Of all the short-sighted, carelessly stupid things you all could have done. You attack someone in a public space in broad daylight!?”

A booming voice tore through the chaos as the lone entity pushed several Commonwealth Agents further and further from the civilians. Crude, jagged pillars of molten metal erupted from the earth toward the agents, detonating erratically as it followed their retreat from the area and further into the park.

“IF THIS IS ALL ERROL HAS LET BE TAUGHT, NONE OF YOU ARE WORTHY OF REMAINING ALIVE.”

Across the street against a sullied, soot-stained brick wall, a tall young man was trying to catch his breath. Ragged, quick gasps of air as reality set in of what the hell he had just been doing. It felt like everything had happened in seconds; going from a walk to the corner store to a scene right out of an action flick. And through all of it, Desmond Romero couldn’t figure out why the hell his first instincts had been to run into the mayhem. Drawing the back of his hand across his brow, he winced when it came back marred with blood and blackness. Breath came even quicker, and he closed his eyes for a few moments, wondering maddeningly why his mind wasn’t racing to match the actions of his lungs and shaking of his hands.

An Agent, the one who began this entire ordeal, ran past Desmond, terrified for their own well being. For good reason, as the entity came into view for the panicked man. Weiss, the Commander of the Rapture ‘Terror Cell’, as Commonwealth had called them. He seemed so focused on erasing the Agent from existence, the air around him felt like it would catch fire at any moment. And yet, it all ceased as he looked down at the man before him.

“...You’re not one of them.” Weiss moved closer to him, eventually standing above Desmond.

There was a moment where, for the first time in a long time, Des couldn’t find his voice. Looking up at whoever - whatever - this guy was, his mind finally started racing. What the hell did that even mean? He pushed off the wall, standing upright and staring directly at the other, almost panting as he rasped out a simple reply.

“One of who?!” Pain, sharp and sudden, rippled across him. It started in his skull, like a migraine, and moved down into his limbs until his fingertips felt like they were being assaulted by thousands of prickling needles.

“....Irrelevant.” Weiss stared up at the man, watching his movements and mannerisms before slowly raising one hand and deliberately placing it on Desmond’s shoulder and pushing him back down to the ground. “Breathe. In. Out. In. Repeat. You are no good to anyone as a memory.” The grating tone conveyed through the helm staring down at him caused another pause it seemed.

“This. All of this. It should have never come to pass. Even though it was not my doing, you have my condolences for what you have endured here. Keep breathing. In. Out. In. Repeat. You are not alone. You are stronger than you know.” The tone this time seemed far more patient than before.

The push hadn’t even seemed that strong yet he crumbled under it, slumping against the pavement. A flash of anger rose up, venom in his throat for just a moment before it settled and he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Despite the tone of voice, the strangeness of the sound of it through whatever mask the other man wore, Desmond sat still for a moment and slowed his breathing, trying to stay as calm as he could in the midst of the madness.

“What even was all this?” he questioned after a beat, his own voice sounding more like it should, the rasping panic still there but beginning to subside. His mind still raced, going over the words and latching onto them, even with the rest of his thoughts spinning in a billion directions.

“...A tragic mistake. One Commonwealth will answer for in time.” Weiss looked down at Desmond, before he began walking past and toward where the Agent had fled.

Long gone by now…

“Keep breathing. In. Out. In. Repeat. Until you can stand and leave this place… You are far too important to die here.”

Des couldn’t do anything but nod, understanding at least some part of the words and wondering what the hell the rest of it meant. He let his eyes drift shut for a moment, focusing on every breath to quell the spiral his thoughts were trying to spin him into.

After a moment of strange, shocked serenity, he opened them again and found himself alone. The imposing figure - one whose name he realized he’d never gotten - was gone.

All that remained were the words he’d said, playing on repeat.

“Keep breathing. Until you can stand and leave this place... You are far too important to die here.”

- - - - -

A ghost of what might have been a smile played over the sleeping man's gaunt face as the words echoed through his subconscious.

No, he couldn't die.

Not yet.

 

[Teh Frixz]

Riley Zdunowski

​

Cool down sequences were a blessing, not just for Riley of course, but for everyone in the general vicinity. She never figured out who was the figurehead behind the codeword and music but if she ever did, she'd owe them something nice. Maybe a new expensive coffee maker or some sort of gift card. She supposed it came down to figuring out who it was before picking out thank you gifts but even that would have been too little. The sheer utter relief of being pulled back bodily from the pit of indulgent chemical overload was an incredible sensation, it really did make the music that keyed up along the wording a lot more impactful.​

Pausing and dropping the rat-flesh she'd been gripping onto as if her life had depended on it, she had to blink the reactionary tears from her eyes. Her body stiffened and then went loose as she start sweating heavily. Excess adrenaline and the cocktail of agents she'd been using the kill the rats was flushed out of her system and replaced with a calming dopamine and seratonin balancing out to keep her leveled. As her body relaxed, she half sobbed half gasped before it balanced out in her head. She blinked the few tears away, curious now at what she'd done. Bits of rat here and there, a LOT of scrapes and cuts covering her hands. Offensive wounds. Her body was already manufacturing agents to clean away any infection and promote healing. She didn't even bleed correctly anymore. Out of habit she put a finger in her mouth to suck a cut.

Landing would be secure by now, she glanced at her wrist computer, trotting across the sand to catch up with the others. Her spit making her finger tingle and cool, she wiped the excess off on her hip. She'd have a good half hour of being pretty coherent before getting loopy again. She probably needed to make the most of it.

Giving a weak little salute to Manami as she dove into the waves, she ignored the sea monster frolicking as well. It was rough enough seeing sea horses and what not while high, she didn't need to be seeing things while balanced.

"Man, messy over there. Hope we don't get assigned to cleanup too.." Riley smiled cheerfully, coming to a halt a few feet off from where Manami had leapt from. Red seemed 'in it' as usual so she didn't interrupt. It was best to let things play out until she was needed. "Let me know as soon as we get orders, I'm just gonna sit down for a second" she sat, closing her eyes and letting the swirl of chemicals flow around her brain.

​

 

[Malikai]

Limelight Feat. The Conductor
Jeremiah J. Johnson
(They/Them/He/Him)
Blue Card Holder and Volunteer Super
Mood: Confused and Contemplating
​

Limelight was ready and steadied their breathing as Argent spoke out the commands for where people should be, "Yes ma'am!" Limelight spoke out, and turned to face the rear of the group. Although they were certain that a shield wouldn't be too much to handle they also still wanted to make certain they wouldn't be messing up one of the first 'objectives' even if it was just as small as a simple command. Limelight focused their breathing and held their hands out in front of them, creating a almost translucent screen of light that curved around the back of the group. The shield of light started just behind Imogen, making sure that she wasn't kept out, and slowly spread out going above the group, and then down to the ground. While it could be seen in pure darkness pretty easily in direct light it was going to be nearly impossible to see with all the other light around.

Limelight was also pretty much forced to look backwards with creating this shield just to make sure it would actually follow them. They gave an awkward smile underneath the helmet at Imogen and started to walk backwards slowly. Limelight remembered that The Conductor also had been covering the group, but getting the sides instead. They turned to the younger operative, "Conductor, are you going to be able to cover the sides easily?"

"Heh, does a dodecahedron have 12 sides?!"

"Uh, well, y-yeah it does?" Limelight squeaked out the last part, unsure.

An awkward pause came about with the joke going completely over Limelight's head before The Conductor speaks again, "...Yes, yes we can." As Limelight and The Conductor had been talking he was already having things moving. Limelight noticed as a lion that looked as if it could be decoration in a fancy parlor walked by, a locomotive chugging along at the side, and most noticeably was the above models. Three model jets, with guns if Limelight was seeing right, that were metallic unlike the other two things they noticed going by. It was clear The Conductor would have things covered. Limelight considered the train again and then something clicked with them, "I think I had that train when I was younger! It was less clean though, and missing some pieces, and a bit jittery moving on its wheels though..."

"Pandora here was a gift from my rank evaluation. To no one's surprise 5-year old me didn't want to give the little helpers back to the doctor...!"

"Wait you had that when you were 5-years old? I don't I think I even remember receiving it as a gift. Just having seen it when I was young. Huh..." Limelight remembered most of the things they owned not actually receiving as gifts, most of them were just handed down to them or just existed when they were younger.

A soft thud came from slightly behind Limelight, and they were tempted to turn around to look to check what it was before they heard the familiar voice from Foxbat. Limelight smiled a bit and said over their shoulder, "I feel like you just left and are already back Foxbat. Second flight go nicely? Also haven't seen or heard of anything like that, but familiar with some very... interesting experiments." Thinking back to some of the experiments and ideas that the Knights of Raguel had made Limelight shudder. It was a bit too dark to think of some of the horrors there and wondering if even worse could somehow be on this island too. It was also something Limelight was hoping wouldn't be a problem.

Spoiler: Mentions and Interactions

Thank you to Necessity4Fun for the help with this post!!!
Syrenrei Mentioned at beginning
Giyari Responded to and mentioned at beginning
Coin Responded to at end of post

 

[Syrenrei]

Evermore

Location: Plane above Paradise Island
Nearby: Argent, Limelight, The Conductor, Paddestoel, Foxbat
Tags: Malikai Zahzi Giyari Necessity4Fun ManicMuse Coin

She had not heard from Anderson, and she was torn on what she should do- if anything. On one hand, the last text she had received from her friend indicated he was heading towards the armory. On the best of days she was a force of unintentional devastating destruction. Were someone to upset him, or get in the way of his 'mission,' he was a force of intentional catastrophic destruction. Despite what others might think, there was absolutely a difference. Perhaps he had heeded her directive to stop. That was unlikely. Much more probably he was distracted by something and diverted from his path. Much as she adored Anderson's company, he was a simple man, and it wouldn't be terribly challenging for him to forget about his 'safety inspection' duties. Imogen hoped he hadn't gone silent because he had found the cat- not even the most vicious of felines deserved him lumbering after it- but there was a risk in texting him. If she were to do so, he might remember his quest for the armory.

For the sake of all non-immortals in Balitmore, she made the decision to not text Anderson, and wait to see if he shout-texted her anything more. She was very aware he shouted into his helmet whatever he wanted sent to her. On more than one occasion he had texted her while she was still within yelling distance... including in the room. Apparently, she was so quiet he could forget she was there, and so she was rewarded with hearing him shout-text in real time.

The plane finished its descent as Argent, the agent in charge, gave out her orders. Silently she nodded acknowledgement she had heard her assignment for surveying the surrounding area. She was quite glad that Argent was the agent in charge. From what she had seen and heard, she was a very pragmatic woman who knew and understood what tools she was working with, as well as how to apply them. More importantly, however, she was 'rolling with the punches' as the saying went. When White Rabbit threw his temper tantrum, she hadn't let it derail the plan, and when most of the offensive supers went to chase a missile and engage hostiles, she had adapted quickly.

They disembarked and she allowed herself to drift towards the middle of the group, quietly listening to the exchange between JJ and The Conductor, whose civilian name was Kendrick if she recalled correctly. Although she greatly enjoyed JJ's company, she was also pleased to hear them establishing a rapport with someone their own age. Gen was quite aware that with their age gap she was more of mother or older sister figure in their life rather than a friendship on purely equal footing. The older she became the harder that it was to forge such friendships herself, and so she was a little envious about how easily they slid into a comfortable, casual conversation.

Imogen stood off to one side, a few steps apart from the group, to make a panorama recording of the surrounding terrain. She was not fond of wearing helmets, since they didn't provide her any substantial protection, and she had a few pieces of one shattered helmet painfully lodged in the side of her head for hours, but the Commonwealth highly valued her ability to make recordings. The helmet was able to perform visual analysis and alert her to movement and sounds outside of her normal ranges, though it was not nearly as sophisticated as the equipment as many other agents wore. She watched with detached curiosity as readings popped up on the interior monitor for the temperature, assessments of local flora, oxygen saturation of the air, and other mundane readings she honestly couldn't care less about.

Foxbat landed nearby and approached Foxbat, relating what had transpired on the beach. Imogen turned if only to make sure the fresh recounting of events was properly documented. Because she was not a member of the offensive line in any mission (unless she was tasked with carrying an explosive device on a suicide run, which she firmly believed did not count), she had no interest in the details of how strange rats were dispatched. Red and the rest almost certainly in some theatrical heroics with their wonderfully useful powers, the sort that meant they could go toe-to-toe with something more imposing than a middle-school child, and she didn't want to feel more melancholic than she already did. Her mind was drifting to wild speculation as to what sort of things they might discover in the facility, and whether mad scientists cared about OSHA compliance, when the word bony caught her by surprise. A whispered choked gasp escaped her lips from underneath the mask.

Approximately two years ago she had been introduced to a support group for other long-lived individuals. Her psychiatrist ran the group, both so that pseudo-immortals could network, and also so he could study them more closely to determine how they were impacted by their abilities psychologically. It was through this support group that she had met a dashing older gentleman named Desmond in person. She had heard of before they met as they had both been blue cards for some time. They hadn't been paired on any missions, likely because the Commonwealth didn't think it would be beneficial to have two very similar powers in the same mission, but she made it a point to know about other regenerators. He was wickedly attractive and had a positive reputation among their peers. Imogen had felt an instant attraction that she had been terrified to act upon despite Jakob's continued vulgar comments about their compatibility.

Desmond had gone missing. At first she had assumed it was a mission that had called him away, but enough time had elapsed that she was confident that wasn't the case. He didn't reply to her texts about the support group and no one had seen him. Perhaps she only noticed because she was more fond of him than she ought to be, but hearing the rats had bony spikes and knowing that Desmond, who had powers that could manifest bony spikes, was a wretched coincidence. Whoever this woman that lived on this island was, she conducted all sorts of experiments, so it could be merely that- a coincidence. Weird monsters with bone protrusions was not unheard of in mythology. Yet... she had a sinking feeling that it was too coincidental. There wasn't enough evidence to alert anyone to her theory and risk looking like an obsessive love-struck teenager.

"Was there anything else unusual about them? Did they have any... special abilities you observed besides enhanced intelligence and the bony spikes?" she asked Foxbat cautiously.

 

[welian]

Gus

Blood is thicker than water. Or perhaps, the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb? Regardless, the aquamarine bond of water-breathing monsters was strong, and deep. With Grandmother dead, Skittles was free to do as they pleased. And right now, they pleased to take their cousin Manami on a tour of the island!

Together, the large monster and the small monster navigated past the reefs, through some narrow (for Skittles) crevices, until there was a pipe. A massive pipe, a culvert, really. It was about eight to ten feet in diameter and made of corrugated metal and rusting from the salty ocean water. Mucky waste flowed from it, smelling of raw sewage and blood. It came in many colors - brown and green, gray and red, with swirls of fluorescent blue.

A lone bloated corpse bobbed up and down, the arm of the dead human man caught on the rough edges of the rusted pipe. What skin that hadn't sloughed off was covered in boney plates, and the skeleton was subtly deformed as though the man's body had decided that a mid-life crisis was a perfect time to attempt to outgrow one's muscle and cardiovascular systems.

Skittles prodded the body with their snout. Instead of roaring, they rumbled and hissed and talked to Manami in tones perfectly intelligible to monsters, but not to humans.

"I am hungry. But not this hungry. I would not let you eat this, either. If you can wait a week for me to finish laying, then you can have one of my eggs. Very flavorful. It will be my last clutch until the boat returns. But, with Grandmother gone..."

 

[welian]

Syrenrei and literally everyone else who I am too lazy to tag.

Evermore raised a good question. Foxbat did not need to answer, as the facts spoke for themselves. In the time it took for all agents to disembark the plane in waves, and for the group to begin their trot to the villa, the splattered blood and guts on the sand had begin to reenact the Iron Giant and crawl towards each other. With squelching noises and nuclear-blue glowing, the remains of the rats were reforming into one approximately moose-sized, uh, rat-looking thing.

From inside the villa...

"Susan, what is that?" A housekeeper, a stout French-speaking islander woman, peered through the blinds at the battle scene that had unfolded on the beach. She had opened them slightly to watch while she washed dishes.

"Superhero nonsense," the old robot replied, also in French, clanking and whirring as he moved across the estate. "Do you remember Dr. Green's instructions?"

"Of course." The woman reached under the kitchen sink and pulled out a submachine gun. Her trigger discipline was lacking. "Hold down the fort until she comes back upstairs. Don't let any feds or freaks get inside."

"That's the long and short of it!" It was as chipper a tone as Susan was capable of mustering, as he reached behind the folded up towels and yanked on an old cord.

All across the island, sirens went off - some of them were visible, such as near the airstrip and outside the villa. Others were camouflaged in the forest, and gave the local wildlife quite a fright seeings as how a massive flock of birds took off.

"Okay! You stay here, and I'm going to go release all the test subjects, like she would have wanted!"

"You talk about her like she's dead already."

"You talk like you aren't hiding from - oh, wait, your safety is on. Remember, shoot the Russians first, she owes them the most money."

OOC

Since the question came up in Discord - yes, I used a nuclear siren. No, there are not nukes on the island. Any characters who have been there prior know that. Anyone who knew the mad scientist personally knows it is perfectly in character for her to use a nuclear siren to scare people away.

 

[Giyari]

Argent​

“Bony spikes? Not on rats, no... Demeter was an expert bioengineer though, so god knows what she cooked up in this place..." Milly answered as Zo landed amongst them with a mini debrief.

“We'd best be careful, there might be mo-" Millicent was cut short as the trees exploded with birds, and a mechanical wail errupted from every direction. "Shit…”

The siren rolling out of the jungle was deafening, the loud rising and falling tones of an old soviet nuclear warning system sent chills through her bones… but even Demeter wouldn’t nuke her own island, even if she was dead. If anything it was more likely she was alive, or only temporarily dead, that’s why this mission was even put on in the first place, to make sure she was truly worm food once and for all.

It wasn’t fully unexpected, but honestly, as it wasn’t already blaring by the time they landed, Milly thought they had gotten away without setting anything off. Looks like their welcome was going to be a bit warmer than she hoped.

Letting out a sigh, Milly reached for her sword, wrapping her fingers around the hilt with a loose, yet ready, grip. The metal surrounding her forearms and lower legs seeped from under her clothes, the silvery liquid that inspired her callsign oozing out over her hands and boots, ready for Millicent to spring it into action at a moments notice.

”All agents red alert, hold the staging post, we need to keep control of that airfield!” She said into her communicator as she continued towards the villa. It was close by now, meaning they were well within shooting distance… Millicent’s eyes darted left and right, looking for any signs of movement from the building, the alarm screaming into the air had the unfortunate added annoyance of disguising any approaching noise, so keeping watch was the best way forward.

“So much no excessive force, keep your eyes peeled! Who knows what this place could throw at us.” Milly mentioned to the other 4 accompanying her. As blue cards, they should be used to some sort of danger, although this was the first time Milly had admittedly worked with Conductor and Limelight… Conductor, from what she had read, was adept at search and rescue, his power to control bonded inanimate objects made him the perfect look out and one man search party. That could be useful in spotting enemy attacks, but Milly imagined his role here was originally meant to be more of the “look in that air duct for hidden stuff” kind of way. Still, needs must, being flexible was part of a Blue card's job.

She glanced back at Limelight as her metal covered feet tapped against the stone path towards the door. Limelight was a bit more combat focused, his ability to project shields and blinding light could be invaluable in covering attacks from any angle, so long as he could keep his cool... And Foxbat and Evermore, both being Commonwealth Agents, should be more than able to fend for themselves. They had this... she hoped.

Approaching the building, Millicent could see the door, and could distinctly make out figures moving through some mildly tinted windows.

“This is a Commonwealth operation! We have reason to believe this facility contains stolen Commonwealth property! Also, we're here to pay our respects." Millicent shouted towards the building through the siren wails. She knew people could hear them, and see them, pretending they were sneaking in unseen was just stupid at this point.

Stressed, again. : MOOD
Villa approach: LOCATION
Limelight, Conductor, Evermore, Foxbat : COMPANY
Syrenrei Necessity4Fun Malikai Coin : @
Zahzi for the radio message : OTHER

 

[Teh Frixz]

CHEMTRAILS

Riley Zdunowski
"Well I never worry, now that is a lie"

​

Having followed up on her declaration of laying down for a while, Riley had been in an enjoyable momentary trance. The sandy ground allowing her to wiggle into a little divot, she lounged with her head back, resting on the sand. In a state of semi-torpor she emitted a localized cloud what could have been bottled and sold in stores as 'Rainy day Relaxation'. Despite the tropical setting, around her smelled and felt like at least the chemically synthesized version of a relaxing day. To some though, it probably smelled like terrible old lady air fresheners. Either way, her reprieve broke when the siren did. Maybe it was just bad luck but the siren was just close enough to a trigger that she knew she was about to lose herself for a bit longer than anticipated.

Bolting up, the clean smelling forest scent of the faux-pacific northwest fell away. The siren was hitting an implanted reaction anticipated if Riley was going get hit by a nuke, it'd be best to at least prepare for it by emitting various anti-rad chemical compounds. Potassium iodide, Diethylenetriamine pentaacetate, and maybe a hint of a slightly different version of radiogardase. She had to maximize her zone of influence. Her body began kicking into autopilot as she began hunting down the tallest point she could find. The radio tower.

Practically dripping at this point, the chemicals in the air around her began to turn the sand a darker blue color as she sprinted off towards the tower, past the still forming moose-sized beast, past anyone on the air strip, dousing everyone and everything in her path to disseminate as much anti-radiation therapeutics as possible into the island on a quasi suicide mission.

 

[Zahzi]

Hunter Red Ward
Location: Matron's piece of shit goddamn haunted island of missiles and bullshit.
Nearby:
Manami Gus
Chemtrail Teh Frixz
The Petulant Child Damafaud
Disposition: "I miss the old war days..."​

Hunter watched his aquatic protégé communicate with the hellish cousin of the Loch Ness monsterand gave a nod as she said her farewells as they delved into the watery depths below. He was ambivalent of the creature, but if Manami was willing to vouch for its continued existence, well, what was one more infraction against Commonwealth at this rate?
A noise caught his attention as things calmed down, a distinct static from his radio. He could of sworn he heard the word 'Gramps', causing a quick twitch to the eye. Ward. The one kid among thousands he would back over if he hit them with a car...No, no. That's too far....Kid definitely needed work on his ethics in regards to....Everything.

He placed a finger to his ear, activating the radio again.
"White Rabbit, if that is you, we are to use our codenames during operations, is that clear?" he responded sternly, looking back to Riley to come up with their new plan. But, before he could even speak, the alarm rang out. One he knew all too well. For a good few moments, he legitimately considered the idea Matron had in fact prepared a nuclear option to keep her secrets to herself. The bitch had as many connections as him, after all...But no. Active warheads would need specific containment. With distinct metal in tow. Metal he could not detect. Sure, she could age as slow as she wanted, but radiation was radiation. A bluff. A LOUD bluff, but still a bluff.

After the alarm ended, he activated the radio again.
"Argent, there is no threat of a warhead, she rigged it for the easily spooked. Proceed as you wish. Chemtrail and I will be along shortly."

And it was then he detected something else......Oh for the love of....
"While I admire the self preservation without orders, it's an act, Chemtrail. Come along now, we need to meet up with the others. Unless you need more rest down there?"

 

[Coin]

FOXBAT​

"Other than cartoonishly ugly rats, it was nice to get some sea breeze in. We'll have to come back here outside of work sometime," Zo replied with a warm smile to JJ. The warm expression she wore was equally for outward appearance as it was to convince herself that all was still well and under control.

The whole field of genetic splicing and bioengineering really freaked her out. She was keenly aware that her current state of being was entirely reliant on advanced bioengineering, but it didn't stop her from shivering at the imagined clinical horrors that must have birthed the bone rats she had killed only minutes ago. Zofia tapped at the back of her helmet and chuckled nervously as she replied to Imogen, "Let's see... bone spikes, limited intelligence, rudimentary communication and tactics. I believe this is all; is there a specific trait--"

Zo was interrupted by the wailing of a klaxon siren that immediately caused her to flinch and her eyes to dart for the nearest hard cover. Leftover conditioning from her military days wired the siren to an impending rocket strike in her brain. Unfortunately, Zo was not ready to put the possibility of a rocket strike out of the question on this damned island. Adrenaline made her thoughts fuzzy as she gave her best attempt to maintain composure and cool. She brought the boil of fight or flight in her brain down to a simmer, manifesting as a string of curses under her breath, "Блять <<fuck>>..."

Her head was on a swivel as she protected the agents' flanks with her rifle shouldered, ready to pop any freakish threats that might launch an ambush. In her scan, her eyes fell briefly on Imogen who appeared to be unarmed. With her support hand, Zo reached down to her pistol belt and unholstered the handgun. She gave it a small flip so that she was holding onto the barrel and the grip was extended out to Imogen, "First one's free, you up for it, Evermore?"

Whether her fellow agent would take the handgun or not, she'd call over to their operation commander, "Argent? Is knocking on the front door still a wise idea? When do we start shooting?"

Spoiler: Interactions

Malikai , Syrenrei , Giyari

 

[Malikai]

Limelight
Jeremiah J. Johnson
(They/Them/He/Him)
Blue Card Holder and Volunteer Super
Mood: Waiting
​

At the words of Foxbat Limelight gave a more unsteady smile back over their shoulder, "Maybe someplace else that's similar to this? Something tells me there's a lot worse stuff on this particular island." Limelight turned back to continue his focus on making the shield stay up, but also kept his ears open for if anybody else kept speaking. Such as when Evermore focused in on the comment about the 'cartoonishly ugly' rats. While Limelight wasn't sure about the significance of them they stayed silent to at least listen in on what abilities they had. The conversation between Evermore and Foxbat continuing with Argent also joining in. Of course then the alarm started.

Limelight wasn't a particular fan of loud noises, but this one had them especially worried. The sound of it seemed almost as though a missile was going to launch or something like it. Limelight shook their nerves slightly and looked once more behind them, continuing to focus their energy on creating a half-shield around the group. At the sound of Argent yelling towards the building Limelight had another idea pop into their head. It might be wise to reposition the shield if something did come from the front. While no doubt people would be able to take care of anything hostile it would still help to have some level of cover while the agents took care of anything that could come at them. So Limelight shouted out, "Argent! Anywhere in particular you'd like me to point this shield or should I keep covering the rear?!" Limelight focused in on making sure that the shield they had would be able to withstand as much as possible while they waited for a response.

At this point though Limelight had been getting nervous. The rats that were mentioned weren't especially worrying, unless of course it meant something more sinister of a creation was also on the island, but the idea of a much more powerful weapon was concerning. Something like a missile seemed out of the ordinary to just launch and strike back on this island, but it was not exactly impossible either. And as much as Limelight did not doubt their abilities they had no way of defending against something that heavy. In fact Limelight was certain that the shield they held could only defend up to a certain caliber of bullets before it started cracking. Still, not one to abandon orders Limelight focused on a specific breathing technique they learned to calm themselves down once again. A stuttery static-filled breath of air impacting the mic that Limelight had in their helmet, likely being a sign to some more keen around that Limelight was doing their best to keep calm.

Spoiler: Mentions and Interactions

Coin - Foxbat near the beginning
Giyari - Argent in the middle paragraph
Necessity4Fun Syrenrei - Present in the scene

 

[Syrenrei]

Evermore

Location: Plane above Paradise Island
Nearby: Argent, Limelight, The Conductor, Paddestoel, Foxbat
Tags: Malikai Giyari Necessity4Fun ManicMuse Coin Teh Frixz

Imogen was not, by nature, an assertive person. It could not be sufficiently overstated how resistant she was to leading anything more ambitious than a seminar on OSHA compliance (safety being her one true passion). Despite her general unwillingness to take point, she was quite capable of doing so, and there was an exception to her unspoken rule of always being a follower: when there was a unique need to protect someone. It was one of her most primal of compulsions to shield others from danger. Regardless of the pain she would endure, or the feelings she had towards the target, she would risk anything and everything, and forsake all else, for this singular purpose.

As Foxbat answered her question, it was clear the other woman was confused- but the conversation about the mutated rats was cut off by the sounds of a loud siren. Imogen’s attention remained fixated on the oversized vermin. The dossier for the mission had specifically stated the scientist that operated a facility on the island was engaged in all manner of illegal experiments. This bothered her on a moral level, but she hadn’t been terribly surprised, as villainy took all forms and shapes. What alarmed her was that the description given, short as it was, suggested that the rats were likely spliced with a human super to give them improved mental acuity, communication skills, and the aforementioned bone spikes. Bone grafting was possible, but she doubted anyone would go through the trouble of making bigger, smarter rats, and then give them bone spikes individually. Additionally, she didn’t know any animal possessing bone spike protrusions that could be spliced with rats to the result described. The shortest answer, the most horrifying, and the most likely, was that they were the result of an experiment mixing rats with a singular entity that could give them all the characteristics they exhibited that were departures from a typical rat.

Size. Intelligence. Ability to Communicate. Bone Spikes.

And Desmond, coincidentally, was missing, which was atypical at best given his personality.

She was frowning under her helmet when Foxbat turned towards her and proffered a gun. Imogen knew how to handle weaponry, though it was usually thrust on her when the Commonwealth was sending her on ‘suicide missions’ that would kill another agent outright. Imogen had mixed feelings about them if she was honest with herself. Having been on the receiving end of bullets, shrapnel, flame-throwers, and explosive, concussive blasts, made her bitter towards them, especially since many projectiles had to be manually cut out of her after the fact. Still, the best defense could be a good offense, and if she shot first then perhaps she wouldn’t be politely asking Red later to help her remove all the ammunition stuck in her body.

Reluctantly, with a notable hesitation, she took the pistol and nodded to Foxbat, her grip belying she had handled similar firearms many times before. “Thank you. I will do my best to make sure I return it to you undamaged.”

It was the perfect storm of circumstances. One nervous friend beside her (JJ), imminent danger all around them, and her secret crush possibly hidden away somewhere on the island (Desmond). Imogen silently turned off her recording software and send a private message to Chemtrail over their comms. She had worked with Chemtrail, also known by her civilian name of Riley, and was familiar with her abilities. “Chemtrail, I need a favor.”

“WHAT?” The noise cut in over the siren. Suspiciously so. As Riley was keyed into different audio cues for different responses, usually it was music or even certain sounds like the siren that set off her response paths. But the sudden input of the somewhat subdued voice of Evermore actually caused Riley to skid to a halt. Somewhere, somehow, Imogen had gotten her voice imprinted into the subconscious of Riley. While she couldn’t think too deeply on it now, it made perfect sense. If something occurred that wipe out Riley, Imogen was obviously going to survive it as well. Who better to reset the chemical dispersal unit that was Riley.

Standing still in the middle of an open field, overlooking some dilapidated looking beach chairs, Riley looked around for a sense of what was going on. Blue chemical residue coated her hands, the smell was acrid and harsh. She shook her hands and wiped them off on her chest while looking for the voice.

It was a private message, somehow it overrode settings and came through as a synthesized audio message. Imogen, ‘Evermore’ was asking a favor. This had seemingly overrode other protocols so it most likely was important. Turning on her heel, Riley set off at a jog back towards the beach. Last time she’d been asked to do a favor for someone capable of overriding her audio programming, she’d flooded half a building with acid. Not even the interesting kind, just something to remove a threat neatly.

Reaching the beach quickly, and giving the growing lump of rat-flesh a wide berth, Riley began half laughing, half calling out Evermore’s name. “Ever-haha-More! Everrrrrmoooore!” The abrupt side effects of getting yanked out of a production state always left her a bit giddy, more loopy than normal, but she had a handle on it.

"Chemtrail, I need you to dose me so that I won't fall asleep when I take a critical mass of damage," she said, explaining her plan, but pausing as she realized that it might not be as apparent to her comrade exactly what that meant. The minutiae of how and when she passed out was something that, even in official documents, was somewhat glassed over in favor of laying out her lack of lethal thresholds. "I get drowsy and start to fall asleep when I take enough damage that would instantly kill a normal person, but I'll continue to heal if you can help keep me awake." All of this was said over the private communique and off the record. Imogen felt incredibly uneasy about letting anyone know she was volunteering to drug herself via Riley in amounts that would be lethal for most.

Looking towards Milly, she squared her shoulders resolutely before bringing her recording software back online. "Argent, I would like to advance first on the facility. I can take the initial spray of firepower and shelter the rest of the team from taking any hits," she volunteered, although once she had enough stimulants flowing through her veins she wasn't certain if she'd be able to hold herself back effectively. Mentally she steeled herself as she physically braced herself for this experiment. Either she'd drive her powers to new heights or become more of a monster- but it'd all be worth it if she could keep everyone safe and save a certain older gentleman she thought could potentially be trapped inside.

 

[Damafaud]

Desmond Romero, Fracture​

Adrian Ward, White Rabbit​

Mood: Annoyed, Hurried, Excited
Location: Against a WAL, sledgehammer testing site, paradise for destructive impulse
Company: Gramps in his heart, Argent in his pocket
Other: I'm a man with a hammer~
Tags: Zahzi Giyari Ozmic​

Adrian waited for a return message with bated breath. Those bone beasts could return anytime and he wasn’t equipped to deal with them. He couldn’t phase through living tissues and he did not want to have ‘pierced by a bone’ on his mission report, thank you very much. So, the moment his radio crackled alive, he put it to his ear.

"White Rabbit, if that is you, we are to use our codenames during operations, is that clear?"

“Okay, roger- to hell with that!” Adrian hissed. He immediately shut his mouth and phased back into the wall after his mistake. Fortunately, his raised voice attracted none. He ruffled his hair with a grumpy look. Codenames, fine, he forgot, but he had a wall AND a WAL to deal with here! Can’t Gramps say something about that instead?!

His finger rested on the receiver, ready to unleash complaints to Gram- Red and asked for instructions, yet the line fuzzed as he heard a wail in the distance. A siren. Many, from the echoes it sent. Adrian paused. That couldn’t be good.

He changed the radio frequency. Reluctant as he was, he connected the line to Argent.

“This is White Rabbit. I found a wall closed by a wide area limiter. I’m breaking in, over.”

Then, he stuffed the communicator to his pocket. If the beasts charged back in, he would lose his chance. Adrian grabbed his sledgehammer. The thing weighed a good 20 pounds. Way more than he could comfortably swing with one hand, but it never needed to be.

Adrian phased into the wall and swam up. He held the sledgehammer with both arms, stretched over and behind his back. He swam up, up, to the ceiling of the room. He hovered above a wall. In the room, a pillar stood not 25 inches from it, making it well protected. It was perfect.

Adrian arched his back. He swung the sledgehammer downward with an explosive centrifugal force. The hammerhead phased through the roof, the pillar, and moments before it phased by the wall, Adrian cut his connection with it.

BANG!

The hammer hit with a bone-vibrating force. Adrian let the hammer go, yet the residual force still sent him spinning down, down, and he let it. He somersaulted several times into the floor. Head spinning, he went to check the damage. The hammer created an indent in the wall, but it did not break.

Taking a deep breath, Adrian took the sledgehammer and swam for the roof once more. He licked his lips with excitement. If one hit wasn’t enough,

BANG!

Two, five, or tens should.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

—

Mood: Hopeful, Anxious, Panicked
Location: Explosives testing site, loudest place on Earth, potentially Hell
Company: -
Other: Please make it stop
Tags: Damafaud​

Sirens.

Desmond snapped upright, shoving forward as much as he could. Bloodshot eyes widened, then squeezed shut in a battle to focus. The thought of the sounds just being another hallucination started a wave of nauseating doubt that he quickly made himself mentally shove away.

Hands held the edges of the table so hard that the dry skin of his knuckles split. Forcing himself forward, Des leaned into the sound and pushed toward the door as much as the bindings would let him.

The persistent and frustrating headache that had been his constant companion for days
weeks?
flared up angrily, making the backs of his eyes pop with a flashbulb of white. He winced, trying to shut out the room noise as much as he could to just listen.

More movement, above. Something was happening. Even if the footfalls and scraping were muffled, they were there all the same. Quicker than usual, the casual steps he had occasionally heard and dismissed as hopeful thoughts now replaced with the faster, rushing taps of those in a stressed hurry.

Panicked? Combined with the siren, it made sense. Had there been some sort of attack? Was this finally a chance to try and make his esca–

BANG!

The sound was like an explosion, shattering the silence and sending his senses reeling. It reverberated around the room and Desmond could swear he felt the vibration in his molars.

Letting out a weak moan, he wished for nothing else at that moment than the freedom to grip at his ears and silence the ringing.

BANG!

Searing nails ricocheted around the inside of his skull and the groan turned into a rasping bark of pain. He couldn't tell if it was the room shaking or him. When a jolt of cold lightning rushed up his spine and he arched as far off the table as he could before falling back, breath came in quick heaves. What the fuck was happ–

BANG!
BANG!
BANG!

With each strike,
attack, detonation
more icy shocks tore through Desmond, making him writhe against his confines. The corners of his vision began to darken and he grasped at the metal slab, twisting as much as he could against the steel binds around his wrists. Large hands, now bloodied, clenched and seized impetuously at nothing.

"Stop…" he begged, the words shaky and lost in a room that felt as if it was growing smaller by the second as his perception continued to dim at the edges.

BANG!
BANG!

—

Adrian paused. He tilted his head. Did he hear something?

…

Must be just his imagination. He raised the sledgehammer again.

BANG!

Oh right he forgot about the whole asking for permission thing, but that’s a later problem.