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Emmadagood

Golden ball of bloody cuteness
Namorae: The Western Graveyard
Namorae laughs a bit as the bike picks up speed. “Well, considering that there is someone like you willing to help me, or speak to me at all, I’d say it might be an improvement!” She says with a grin. “Most people in my world only accepted dhampir I’d they worked as vampire hunters.” She adds to clarify.
 

Shining Wizard

Professional Asswiper
TORGO - CITADEL, MAINTENANCE TUNNELS

Torgo's head came free of the wall quite easily, stumbling forward and apparently no worse for the wear aside from the smoke seeping out from the rear of her neck joint. Hooking her legs around the Spartan's free arm and shoulder, Torgo latched onto it in a manner not entirely unlike a koala bear as her systems reoriented themselves. Harold, for his part, appeared to be quite upset- insofar as a featureless black sphere could appear upset, at least. The machine's internals made a harsh grinding noise as it kicked into a high gear, rolling towards the party at a leisurely pace that was exactly enough to match an unaugmented human that had worked an intelligence agency desk job for an exceedingly long period of time. Machines were, after all, ultimately beings of convenience.

"Apologies, (pending) Master.", Torgo chirped from her perch on Samus' elbow, "It appears introductions are in order. This-"

Torgo cocked her head towards the approaching deathtrap.

"-Is Harold. Harold is the [custodian] of this place. His [designated function] is to [clear out stray surface wildlife by escorting them to the incinerator pit]. Hello, Harold."

The boulder let off a series of high-pitched shrieking noises and sped up slightly.

"Harold says, roughly, that he would like it very much if the (pending) Master and company were to evacuate the premises. So yes, Designation Seven. By all means. Find the escape route."

@DrBones @The Mad Queen @Alpha007 @Specialist
 
Askelpiades of Hierekion: Friendly Fire, Black Star District (Gladius III)
“BY THE MUSES OF APOLLO!” eagerly declared the Greek as he first entered the store, feeling himself possessed by the groove of the muzak. He kept tapping his foot as he began exploring the store, "Truly the Gods hath engaged in most harmonious practices, showing further affiance towards thy kindred familial bonds, to think that a Shrine of Ares allowed the muses to weave such melodies which accites thine minds.” The smell of gunpowder was rather inviting to him, as it demonstrated that this was in fact a shrine. While Askelpiades had not had much fortune to witness a vast number of different shrines, as much of his work had been done in Hierekion, he had heard from other priests in his cabal that some possessed odd odors which were a blessing of the Gods. And it just so happened that this was probably rather hallowed one which presumably had an Oracle of Ares!

Askelpiades dropped down to the carpet floor to intensely pet and prod at it, as well roll on it. “Such a fleece, fit for this halidom! Prithee from which foreign tribe would it have come from...” After much laughter, The Black emerged upright and eagerly eyed the store. There were countless, immeasurable in their wonder, weapons designed by the Priests of Ares here. It made since as to why a brigand found themselves dispatched. His eyes wandered towards the throwback collection, as it had devices such as the one featured in the outside braizer’s visions, and it was at that point the Greek found himself addressed by the Oracle of Ares.

Approaching the counter, Askelpiades gave a deep bow.

“Oracle of Ares, I am but a humble servant much like yourself. Though I follow the Teachings of Poseidon as opposed to Ares.” Askelpiades offered a beaming smile as he glanced towards the Throwback Collection once again,“Forgive me if I hath interrupted on thy rituals or prayers, but I am in need of haste-post-haste weaponry. For it is my duty, and task, as delivered onto me by not only High Priests of my Cabal, but of the Local Prince, to dispatch of foul brigands whom have seized curious trinkets whose value weigh heavily upon thy Prince.”

Raising his hand up, Askelpiades cleared his throat. “Ares, as opposed to mine Lord Poseidon, holds an unshakable dominion upon the art of war. Haply I found brazers of thy peers crafting weaponry, weaponry I seek for a better disposal of these brigands.” Reaching into his robe pockets, Askelpiades proceeded to take out a few pieces of silver as he placed them upon the counter.

“Pray thee, fair Oracle of Ares, if thou would allowst me to claim such weaponry to dispatch of evils which threaten the sacred children of our Gods? What manner of weapon would be best to accomplish mine task? I come here with not only open heart, and material offerings, but I shall assure your shrine many good words in with the Cabal of Poseidon!”

Bowing again, Askelpiades awaited to hear the response of this Oracle and how willing they were to help him in his noble quest!

@zontar
 
Samus-007/Gladius I: The Presidium
[Interacting with: @The Mad Queen, @Shining Wizard; @DrBones, @Alpha007; Open to Interaction]

Samus didn't respond, instead having maintained her stance despite having a mechanical koala latch onto her upper torso and leg area. The mechanoid was suprisingly lightwieght, but that was probably just her. Mentally in agreement with Torgo's advice, she hissd sotfly, "Boss, any day now!"

'Nav set, let's go!'

Of all things, Samus wasn't expecting a '0.5m' waypoint to be placed directly above her. She mentally kicked herself. "Torgo, talk it into standing down. Everyone else, on me!" Rallying everyone was easy. Getting out alive from two potential angles of attack while trying to escape a death-sphere and a most-likely batallion compliment of soldiers above ground? It wasn't hard, but it wasn't another day at the office either. Glancing behind her toward the ladder's rung on the matinence hatch, Samus stepped aside and made way for Alva, Oliver, Clown-Man and the freaking tiger to evacuate the area first. The Spartan shuffled in her armor, blading herself toward 'Harold' and shielding the clinging Torgo from any further attacks. Samus spoke over the E-Band, attempting to hail her compatriot above ground. "Three, we're exiting now! Prepare for contact!"
 
King: Higgins’ Hell, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)

Whatever dastardly plot was being hatched against him obviously escaped King's notice, preoccupied as he was with humiliating a man in front of friends and family and making them all hate him just so he could force them to respect him after. Of course a dirty nothing fight club in a nowhere town was going to want action, hell, everyone everywhere just wanted blood when watching fights for fun. Not even pros looked at every last pair of hands thrown with a critical eye. King visibly enjoyed crowd's fury, looking past his overmatched opponent and into the group outside the ring with a mocking grin and a defiant eye, silently laughing at their impotent lashing and practically daring them to bean him with a bottle. Chances were they'd just hit Clash anyway.

And speaking of poor Franklin, he really was trying his best, and it wasn't necessarily a bad call what he was doing. The kicks not so much, he absolutely didn't have the room or posture to really generate power with his legs, but quick knees to the thigh or hard foot stomps were a valid thing in a drawn out proper match. They added up, left the other guy sore and slowed him down with time, possibly forced a reaction you could use to your advantage. In this case, however, all they did was slightly annoy the Turk to no real benefit, and he persisted in his iron clad clinch control as Clash had no real way of wrestling his way to a more advantageous position. With the elder screaming and a man being escorted outside by security, it was probably time to end it.

And so he did. The sudden break and freedom to move must have seemed like a godsend to Franklin, who was so surprised by the turn of events and so concerned with getting back to a proper position that he didn't quite raise his guard back up. Still at a very short, controlling range, King landed his first elbow, a quick, slicing left from side to side that tore a canal on his opponent's brow with almost magical ease. Not that most, if anyone, noticed, because not half a second after the followup had landed. King's right elbow followed a similar round path and smashed into Clash's temple like a hammer and down he went as well, collapsing face-first on the mat. It didn't take long for a scarlet patch to start blooming under him.

@Freshet @The Mad Queen
 
Higgins Hell: King's Open Challenge! The Badlands (Gladius IV)

As soon, as soon, as the crowd had witnessed the wonderful spray of blood there was an uproarious cheer from the crowd. Like sharks, or in the case of one of the individuals in the crowd like himself as he was indeed a sharkskined warrior of the streets, they smelt the fresh blood and immediately went into a frenzy. Fortunately none of the crowd decided to go and try to eat Franklin Clash; though, it appeared by the drooling of one of the minotaur security, some wanted to. The gremlins, these ones of the design as small diminutive furry creatures with claw like hands, feet, sharp teeth with angular features diligently continued their task of clearing out competitors who had fallen in combat.

The bell was run as the Town Elder gestured towards King. "AND STARTING A STREAK OF DOMINANCE; WINNER KING OF COSTA DEL SOL!" The crowd, while still hesitant at large of supporting an out of town man, were coming around. Hey, at the very least, they came around from where they were moments ago wanting to pelt him to death with bottles. While their dream was clearly beyond their reach as demonstrated by his current showing in the ring, these men were filled up on enough piss and vinegar their spirits wouldn't be dampened!

As the gremlins dragged out Franklin Clash, a simplistic stretcher was brought out and held by two of the minotaurs. These ones were also relatively small, compared to the outside guard who initially guarded the place before being brought down by King, and had a distinctive white and red cap upon their horn. As Franklin Clash was brought on the stretcher, he was carried out by these two lads, as in the crowd one of the members, a much younger looking individual than the majority of the crowd, began to mouth a chant of 'King.'

However they did not go through with this as they feared being taken over by other chants dismissing a man who had won over his heart. Another contender would be approaching soon, eagerly awaiting the chance to prove themselves above Tutty and Franklin. In this den of sport, all of these men wished to be King.

And that meant dethroning a man who had made violence into a well trained, and harnessed art.


As the devious broncobuster, under the employ of one Yosemite Sam, entered and sought to establish where he was to participate in an open challenge he found a spot where surely he could get the answers he sought. In another corner of this empty back-room there was a humanoid creature, it had a distinctively shorter looking left leg compared to its right, had a brown pelt and possessed a pig like head with a set of sharp tusks and long horns adoring the top of its skull which were similar to that of a bull. It had a distinctive glimmer of smile in its eye, and part of one in its snout as it partially opened up its mouth.

With a lout snort it began hobbling, as one does if they do not possess symmetrical legs, towards the ring. The beast was prepared to engage in this open challenge and establish itself in a way that Tutty nor Clash were able to do. While there were no real signs of furniture, apart from the stool upon which the Town Elder sat, and the ring which was cleaned up of shrapnel, but not of blood as that would be too time consuming when the Open Challenge was still up, it was clear that this other corner was the place to go.

After all, a gremlin would scamper back and forth between that corner and to the stool. Noting that another feller was ready to take on the King of Costa Del Sol; the individual began waving the broncobuster goon over.

The individual present was something of ogress blood, it stood approximately about the size of an average human, had yellowed skin, a shaven head with a series of tattoos decorating the scalp and back of her neck. She had bug-like eyes, thin lips and rotting looking tusks protruding from her mouth. And she was clad in a set of denim; consisting of jacket to pants, a pair of simple boots and a torn up looking blouse.

Blowing out a pink bubble, she stared at the goon up and down. “Shucks! Lemme guess, y’wanna take on that thar city-folk don’tcha?” The bubble popped as she slurped it back in, with some drool escaping the prison of the mouth. “All I dun need fromya is a moniker, that I say if’n y’aint sure of it is a name. Then all y’needa do then is enter t’ring and wham! Fight on. All anyone can ask is fer you to do t’best ya can; since that thar outta town folk lookin’ fairly mean in the ring.”

@Zerohex @The Mad Queen
 
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The Mad Queen

Gladius? More like...Bore Ragnarok!
Jolie Baptiste: New Metropolis, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
"I can imagine."
She stood to her feet, gathering the pieces of gear she'd dropped in the asylum's halls and headed back to the viewing room.
"I don't know what Crane made you see, and I'm not going to ask. But if you want to talk about it."
She rested a hand on his shoulder and turned her gaze to the room below. Despite all of the commotion, the woman had only moved slightly. Hopefully she could shed some light on what had happened.
Who was Crane, and who had helped him perfect his formula? There was also still a risk of Crane spreading it to others that held over Jolie's head. Her years of training, mental conditioning and supernatural abilities made her more resistant to such things, and Marcus seemed to have something similar preventing his mind from crumbling under the weight of whatever had been thrown at him.

But the rest of the city would not be so lucky.
Wrapping on the window, she called down to the woman below.
"Hello. If you can hear me, stand back."

"I don't know how many more traps Crane has. I don't want to risk it."
She moved as far as she could, the chains preventing her from going far and Jolie punched the glass. When it didn't break, she shot it instead and rolled her eyes. Of course the glass was bulletproof.
"I could punch through this thing, but it would mean using more blood. Would you be able to give it a shot?"

@darkred
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-

Venkman: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
He started to slow the bike down down, crawling to a halt.
"Something's wrong."
Outside of the Twilight, he could see something on the road. Slumped against an offroad buggy was a body, unmoving bu still breathing and probably hurt. With the snap of his fingers, he conjured a gate and drove out of the Twilight, pulling up alongside the buggy and turning off the engine.
"Hello?" Venkman called out. No answer.

He started to take a few steps forward. With a mere glance he could tell the person was alive, thanks to Grim Sight of course and knelt down by their side. Blood caked the left side of their face and their left arm lay inside of the buggy, reaching out for something.

@Emmadagood
-OPEN FOR INTERACTION-
Alva Bòideach: The Citadel Presidium (Gladius-I)
Harold didn't stop as every part of the space station seemed like it wanted to kill them but at the very least Harold was a little bit considerate about it. That wasn't saying much given the Zeons though. Then again, given Torgo was his translator it was possible he was being a lot less polite than the Automated American was letting on as she just left out all the profanity.
Just as the Alva was wondering how she'd get a tiger up a ladder, Oliver stepped in front of the group.
"I'll go up first. See if the coast is clear."

He started to ascend, preparing himself for what might be on the other side and as he poked his head up, he was nearly kicked in the face by passing civilians who were all moving in a not so calm and orderly fashion in the same direction.
Ducking under, he looked down at the others
"Well, the good news is there aren't any giant killer robots."

@Specialist @Shining Wizard @DrBones @Alpha007
-OPEN FOR INTERACTION-
The Sole Survivor: The Commonwealth, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
"Oh, screw it. We'd end up standing here for years going back and forth about this trial. Problem is finding someone genuinely unbiased in a city you attacked."
"So just kill her. You already said she was a threat."

Cait went to draw her shotgun but stopped as Harry shook his head.
"Thing is if we just execute her, we're proving her point."
"She'll be dead. Does it matter?"
"It might cause problems down the line."

He glanced over his shoulder at the others. Just one outworlder had nearly destroyed the city. What were the others capable of and what would they do if the musician was killed on the spot? A trail would have to do and there was little doubt in his mind that she would be found guilty anyway. Whether that meant she'd be killed or locked up was down to the judge, but they'd have to choose carefully.
One man came to mind, calm, fair and not without compassion either.

Preston Garvey.
He was back near the bodies, with four Minutemen at his side. They were going through each individual person, identifying them and marking their names down when Harry jogged over.
"We need to talk."

He left out as much detail as possible on the walk back to the group, making sure he didn't influence the trial.
"So Harry tells me there's a possible suspect for what happened here, and that you're in need of a judge for a trial. I'd put myself down but I need to..."
"I'll lead the expedition." Harry cut him off "This trial has to be fair and with us knowing each other, it's better if I'm not present. That way nobody can accuse me of trying influence you or anyone else one way or another."

"Besides, I'm going to need to stop by The Castle to pick up some extra supplies."
He looked to the others
"Good luck with the trial. I hope you come to the right decision."

@DrBones @GrieveWriter @Ennuis @Freshet @Thepotatogod @Alpha007
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-

Karla: Mos Eisley, Cortova's ship, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)

"Can we go already? This place reeks. Oh, not your ship. Just where it's parked."
"This ship lacks the scent of sea air or rain. I would like to see how it takes flight without the use of sails." Ser Richard tapped his hand against one of the walls "Make haste, we have a crusade ahead of us!"

Karla stood up from her chair and started to wander around the ship, her tail swinging back and forth and her arms swaying at her sides. She'd been on nicer ships, but style wasn't everything.
She had to see how she handled first.

@Emmadagood @GearBlade654
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-
 
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Emmadagood

Golden ball of bloody cuteness
Namorae: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands
Namorae is off of the bike as soon as they pass through the portal, running to the side of the downed person and vehicle. “I don’t know healing magic. Do you?” She asks, looking around with glowing eyes as she searches for undead, and then for magic.

She’s not sure what this machine is, but it seems like some kind of transport. Unless it’s some kind of golem responsible for this attack.
@The Mad Queen

Cortova: Her Ship, Mos Eisley, The Badlands
Cortova grins at Karla. “You got it!” She says, and starts on the controls. “Right, Queen, you know the drill. Don’t turn on the grav generators till we’re out of orbit, remember. Last time was not fun.”

The ship hums as the engines get started, and she gets on the external speakers. “Alright, if anyone is in a hundred foot radius of the landing platform, please fuck off. You might get stuck in the turbines.” She chuckles, working on the rest of the sequence.
@GearBlade654
 

Shining Wizard

Professional Asswiper
TORGO - CITADEL, MAINTENANCE TUNNELS

Climbing up the maintenance shaft into the previous sector full of people that wanted to kill you did not strike Torgo as a particularly good plan; then again, very few of the (pending) Master's party seemed in the business of making good plans, or planning at all for that matter. Perhaps the (pending) Master's android simply did not register how immensely petty Zeonites were, and seemed to assume they had the attention span of small rodents rather than malevolent, grudge-bearing elephants.

Regardless of thought or motive, however, the option to return to the Principality Of Zeon was soon cut off. This was because Harold had, to the surprise of absolutely no one save perhaps Oliver himself, continued moving the entire time and had, in an equally unsurprising fashion, forced the entire party to move away from the shaft or be rebuffed in much the same manner as Torgo had. Oliver's caution in going first, it seemed, had become his own undoing.

"Torgo does not wish to be rude, but would like to express her concerns regarding her fellow android's judgement.", Torgo said from beneath Sheeva's bulk. The cat had been uncooperative in it's attempts to aggress upon Harold, forcing Torgo to decouple herself from Android Seven and carry the feline overhead as they sprinted down the hall, with Harold's speed having risen to match that of their next-slowest member: Shoe Stealin' Willie.

"...Additionally, Torgo would suggest all currently involved parties enter the upcoming downward-sloping tunnel on the (pending) Master's right; previous datasets indicate this area is linked to the station's water-treatment units. In order to prevent further seperations, Torgo would also suggest entering simultaneously."

MEANWHILE, IN THE PRINCIPALITY OF ZEON

Oliver, having spent the last few minutes climbing a long, mostly vertical maintenance shaft, naturally had no idea that any of this had occurred. Hunching his shoulders and tucking in his chin, he did his best to avoid being noticed by the military police and their Mobile Suits as they directed civilians to the nearest spaceport. You had to have a sense of urgency in a situation like this, after all. Family or not, only a complete idiot would spend time milling about when the sky was quite literally collapsing around them. He'd meet them at the Principality's spaceport.

@DrBones @The Mad Queen @Specialist @Alpha007
 
Nameless Mook: Top-side of the Sewage Complex, Sword Coast (Gladius III)​

Helped up above the complex, the Nameless Mook began breathing in and out. It wasn't steadied, it didn't matter how much he tried the breathing was labored. Fortunately he wasn't kept to fester where the wound could be affected. It appeared, from what the man could catch from the Monk, the monastic order of E-M-T held training in ways of medicine. It made a bit of sense, after all monasteries much learning experiences, and Gogyou seemed as a learned man. The Fake Shang glanced towards Steve as he let out a hacking cough.

"Th- OOOUGHA - e Blac-aaaak Demon Sect must be sto-" These were the words uttered by Fat Shang as he felt woozy. Fortunately as he was being helped in walking, he did not just collapse to the ground outright. However it was plainly clear that the Nameless Monk, traitor to the Black Demon Sect, was not in the best of conditions. Was the gaping wound in his chest, which had pressure by Steve at this moment, and Gogyou earlier, upon it as to minimize loss enough to illustrate this? It was. But this was just further proof that he could use a bit of help right about now.

And fortunately for him, Steve was there and was following the monk who would assuredly help him out, not only in combat training, in recovery. After all, even with the fact of horrible pain wracking the primary part of his thoughts, there were still thoughts fluttering in his head unrelated to his current bodily situation. The Fake Shang knew that he was not yet ready to vanquish the Black Demon Sect. He had trouble with this peer, this would not be enough to face off against stronger members of the order. And it certainly wasn't enough to contend against the Bones of Creation!

Hopefully, the Nameless Mook would be able to train and learn so that he could be ready for when that day called.

@zontar @The Mad Queen @Donder172 @FistOfTheBorkStar
 

darkred

It's always dark before the dawn
Jolie Baptiste: New Metropolis, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
"I can imagine."
She stood to her feet, gathering the pieces of gear she'd dropped in the asylum's halls and headed back to the viewing room.
"I don't know what Crane made you see, and I'm not going to ask. But if you want to talk about it."
She rested a hand on his shoulder and turned her gaze to the room below. Despite all of the commotion, the woman had only moved slightly. Hopefully she could shed some light on what had happened.
Who was Crane, and who had helped him perfect his formula? There was also still a risk of Crane spreading it to others that held over Jolie's head. Her years of training, mental conditioning and supernatural abilities made her more resistant to such things, and Marcus seemed to have something similar preventing his mind from crumbling under the weight of whatever had been thrown at him.

But the rest of the city would not be so lucky.
Wrapping on the window, she called down to the woman below.
"Hello. If you can hear me, stand back."

"I don't know how many more traps Crane has. I don't want to risk it."
She moved as far as she could, the chains preventing her from going far and Jolie punched the glass. When it didn't break, she shot it instead and rolled her eyes. Of course the glass was bulletproof.
"I could punch through this thing, but it would mean using more blood. Would you be able to give it a shot?"


Marcus Wright
New Metropolis
Somewhere in Arklym Asylum
Open for Interaction




Marcus cleared his throat "I'm on it. But it's going to hurt like hell."

The half terminator lifted his fist back and slammed it against the glass, hoping to shatter it. "Hey, if you hear me down there. Don't worry, we'll get you out of there."

"I may be a carjacker in the past but if we can get through some things, I can help try to hack a trap if we need to."

As Marcus frowned, he turned after a few attempts on the glass, I've busted a small hole through and kept going on it.

"Didn't expect Dr. Crane to come prepared to stop a half-terminator."

"Jolie, I'm glad we made it through this mess. But I'm expecting Crane to turn the city into a nightmare wide-scale, either a terminator attack or nightmares otherwise we know we couldn't face. Those people won't know what to do and probably attack us in all of this."

The mad doctor bastard practically ripped out my worst fears and shoved them all in a spoonful all lead in lethal injection. It's time I admitted the truth. I've been on death row before and Dr. Crane should have torn me apart there. I would have felt a lot better about myself."


@The Mad Queen
 

The Mad Queen

Gladius? More like...Bore Ragnarok!
Jolie Baptiste: New Metropolis, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
"We've bought ourselves some time I think, but unless we track him down he'll do the same to the entire city."
He had come closer than she'd like to admit and Jolie knew that if she'd run into Crane a few years ago he might well have succeeded. That appeared to be true of Marcus as well, as he opened up about his past.
She read his aura and it glowed with the all too familiar colour of guilt as he punched through the glass, sending shards of it into the room below. Jolie peered back in to see that the woman hadn't even flinched.
Reading her aura, Jolie saw it light up with silver and light blue.

Sadness and calm, blended together.
"I'm coming down, hold on."

She looked to Marcus once more.
"What did you do?" She asked, her voice soft and forgiving

@darkred
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-
Venkman: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
"Afraid not." Venkman shook his head "Know a little bit of first aid but that's about it."
Gazing into the Twilight he found ghosts, but that was a given considering where they stood. There were three in total, all of them moving towards something in the distance.
A spear was embedded into the ground and had seven ghosts crowding around it.
"I found something. Be careful."

He moved his hand towards the handle of his sword, while keeping the other near the wounded man.

@Emmadagood
-OPEN FOR INTERACTION-
The Sole Survivor: The Commonwealth, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
Preston led Harry and Cait away from the group so they could talk, with Harry promising to be back soon.
"What is it?"
"I can't be the judge." Preston shook his head "I'm sorry."
"What? But you're perfect for it."
"I'm too close to this. Whatever happened today killed a dozen people I promised to protect."
"But you're not the type to call for blood."
"I'm still too close to this."

Harry sighed
"Okay. If you're not going to do it, then who the hell is the judge? Castle is owned by the Minutemen so we can't go there either and everyone else seems like they want to kill you, they wouldn't be interested in any trial."
"Unless it was a trial by combat." Cait added
"Yeah, I guess."
"I can think of one place. We go to Goodneighbour."

Even before Preston had finished, Harry knew exactly who he was talking about: Hancock.
Of the people, for the people, that was the old man's motto and something he tried to stick to. The hunger's attack made it to Goodneighbour but the city held on through sheer determination and from the leadership of it's mayor.

"I'll go with them then. We need to make sure we can get her tried for this. There's no way she's just walking a-."
"No." Preston cut him off "No, you helped Hancock out before the hunger and even travelled with him for a short time. People could see that as you influencing things.

I'm not looking for revenge, I want to see justice done and we can't do that if the trail is compromised. I'll go and represent the people that died today, under one condition."
"Sure."
"Keep away from Verdi."
"She's a murderer. Hell, she doesn't even consider us human so no wonder it was easy for her. Any judge with a brain would deem her guilty."
He took a few steps towards Harry "I mean it. Whatever goes down at the trial I need you to respect the outcome. We're trying to build a society here. I get it, you're angry and you're out for blood but this can't be how we handle things."

-


Sometime later a Vertibird touched outside the gates to Goodneighbour and those onboard went inside, being greeted by the town's mayor with guards at his back.


"You mind tellin' me why this girl is tied up?" He pointed at the still bound Verdi.
"She's been accused of murdering twelve people in Diamond City."
"Why don't you judge her yourself ,then? The green jewel is yours after all."
"You're a neutral party. I can't be a judge when it's the people I promised to protect being killed."

Hancock paused for a few moments, examining the group and having his eyes meet that of Verdi's
"You know what? I'll do it."

"Now, who's defending her and who's accusing her? We need to lay that out before we go anywhere."
-

Harry remained at Diamond City, helping with the cleanup as civilians and Minutemen alike worked on moving the bodies of the dead. While many were sombre and the sounds of wailing could be heard Harry wasn't focusing on that. Instead, he glanced around the city, on the lookout for any potential threats.

@DrBones @GrieveWriter @Ennuis @Freshet @Thepotatogod
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-

Higgins Hell: King's Open Challenge! The Badlands (Gladius IV)

As soon, as soon, as the crowd had witnessed the wonderful spray of blood there was an uproarious cheer from the crowd. Like sharks, or in the case of one of the individuals in the crowd like himself as he was indeed a sharkskined warrior of the streets, they smelt the fresh blood and immediately went into a frenzy. Fortunately none of the crowd decided to go and try to eat Franklin Clash; though, it appeared by the drooling of one of the minotaur security, some wanted to. The gremlins, these ones of the design as small diminutive furry creatures with claw like hands, feet, sharp teeth with angular features diligently continued their task of clearing out competitors who had fallen in combat.

The bell was run as the Town Elder gestured towards King. "AND STARTING A STREAK OF DOMINANCE; WINNER KING OF COSTA DEL SOL!" The crowd, while still hesitant at large of supporting an out of town man, were coming around. Hey, at the very least, they came around from where they were moments ago wanting to pelt him to death with bottles. While their dream was clearly beyond their reach as demonstrated by his current showing in the ring, these men were filled up on enough piss and vinegar their spirits wouldn't be dampened!

As the gremlins dragged out Franklin Clash, a simplistic stretcher was brought out and held by two of the minotaurs. These ones were also relatively small, compared to the outside guard who initially guarded the place before being brought down by King, and had a distinctive white and red cap upon their horn. As Franklin Clash was brought on the stretcher, he was carried out by these two lads, as in the crowd one of the members, a much younger looking individual than the majority of the crowd, began to mouth a chant of 'King.'

However they did not go through with this as they feared being taken over by other chants dismissing a man who had won over his heart. Another contender would be approaching soon, eagerly awaiting the chance to prove themselves above Tutty and Franklin. In this den of sport, all of these men wished to be King.

And that meant dethroning a man who had made violence into a well trained, and harnessed art.


As the devious broncobuster, under the employ of one Yosemite Sam, entered and sought to establish where he was to participate in an open challenge he found a spot where surely he could get the answers he sought. In another corner of this empty back-room there was a humanoid creature, it had a distinctively shorter looking left leg compared to its right, had a brown pelt and possessed a pig like head with a set of sharp tusks and long horns adoring the top of its skull which were similar to that of a bull. It had a distinctive glimmer of smile in its eye, and part of one in its snout as it partially opened up its mouth.

With a lout snort it began hobbling, as one does if they do not possess symmetrical legs, towards the ring. The beast was prepared to engage in this open challenge and establish itself in a way that Tutty nor Clash were able to do. While there were no real signs of furniture, apart from the stool upon which the Town Elder sat, and the ring which was cleaned up of shrapnel, but not of blood as that would be too time consuming when the Open Challenge was still up, it was clear that this other corner was the place to go.

After all, a gremlin would scamper back and forth between that corner and to the stool. Noting that another feller was ready to take on the King of Costa Del Sol; the individual began waving the broncobuster goon over.

The individual present was something of ogress blood, it stood approximately about the size of an average human, had yellowed skin, a shaven head with a series of tattoos decorating the scalp and back of her neck. She had bug-like eyes, thin lips and rotting looking tusks protruding from her mouth. And she was clad in a set of denim; consisting of jacket to pants, a pair of simple boots and a torn up looking blouse.

Blowing out a pink bubble, she stared at the goon up and down. “Shucks! Lemme guess, y’wanna take on that thar city-folk don’tcha?” The bubble popped as she slurped it back in, with some drool escaping the prison of the mouth. “All I dun need fromya is a moniker, that I say if’n y’aint sure of it is a name. Then all y’needa do then is enter t’ring and wham! Fight on. All anyone can ask is fer you to do t’best ya can; since that thar outta town folk lookin’ fairly mean in the ring.”

@Zerohex @The Mad Queen
The henchman couldn't help but think a little bit about bacon as the pig-man entered the ring. He loved the stuff, and told himself that the first thing he'd do was get his hands on some fried bacon when he got back.
That was providing Sam didn't snatch it off him first.

"My name? My name is the Big Hat Man." He smiled, resting his hands on his hips as he tried to strike a pose "Or Hat-Man for short."

"Would someone tell me what the hell is going on here?"
 

Emmadagood

Golden ball of bloody cuteness
Namorae: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands
Namorae is looking at the group of spirits around the spear as well, and takes a deep breath. That’s probably not good. “Be careful.” She says softly, before looking down at the wounded person. She crouches down, pulling their arm out of the buggy, and checking the severity of their wounds.
 


  • Higgins Hell: King's Open Challenge! Fight 3 - King vs Gastelum Nelson V! Badlands (Gladius IV)
    “Fightan.” remarked the ogress as she popped another bubble; the burst coincided with raised eyebrow towards Hat-Man. Slovenly her left arm was placed against her hip as she stared down the man as she pointed towards the ring. “Posin’ real fancy-like, buuuh...” Another bubble was popped and slurped back in as was her ritual. “Action in thar ring; t’slicker in’er one heckuva catch fer a com-ba-tant.” This was followed by a dreamy gaze towards King, with eyelids aflutter. However she shook her head and bit at her lip. She knew this man was an out-of-towner and someone in the community needed to kick his ass for local pride. It's not like they could take a whole lot of pride from other parts of their community after all.

    With her attention back towards Big Hat she flourished her free palm up towards him, “Y’know uh, y’dun coulda entered t’ring ‘fore ‘im, if’n ya wanted. Bettin’ y’don’t come ‘ere often Cowpoke – mus be busy wit cattle. Buh as long as y’enter the ring, y’get the right to fight. Racin’ comes to a stop when it plain as dishwater that a feller gotcha beat in how close they are Big Hat.”

    While that bit accomplished, the pigman of a creature let out a foul snort as he hobbled under the ropes. He struggled for a brief moment due to his shrimpy left leg was caught on the rope. With a loud grunt the creature, a Sidehill Gouger, pulled his own leg onto the canvas and stumbled and almost fell. They key word was almost. The crowd grew silent as they were awaiting the bell to be rung by the Town Elder; however this was interrupted by the creature who held out a single finger towards the Elder to ask permission to cut loose a promo.

    The Town Elder gave a solemn nod of approval towards the creature, who let out a loud snort and looked towards King with a distinctive presence and pride to him. Dramatically pointing towards him, the creature cleared his throat.

    “I AM GASTELUM NELSON THE V OF MY NAME.” spoke the Sidehill Gouger, as they began hobbling back and forth in a rather awkward pattern near the ropes. It was obvious they were clutching onto the ropes for dear life, however their head was turned towards King with a great and arrogant pride.

    “Yes, it is true you have bested Tutty, the Great Slugger by outmaneuvering him before he could let loose his fist of flurry which would surely have made you succumb to him. For Franklin Clash you knew you could not compete against his range, so you forcefully snuffed it out and reduced the space in which he could truly operate. BUT I!” He paused in his dialogue as a devious smirk manifested while delivering a grandiose gesture towards the roof with one of his arms, as he began to stroll back towards the center of the ring.

    I AM NOT LIKE THEM! For you see, Mister “King” - IF THAT IS YOUR REAL NAME TOWNIE – I do not participate in the areas that those two gentleman before me did. They fought you standing, on their very feet. It had limited them to tactics which you, as a tactician – like a minor version of myself – could easily exploit. I, however, specialize in a far more devious manner of fighting. I utilize the very principle of chaos to conquer my foes! BEHOLD THE TECHNIQUE OF MY PEOPLE, A FORM OF VIOLENCE WHICH HAS BEEN PRACTICED FOR AGES BUT HAS BEEN PERFECTED BY ME!

    With that finished, to great cheers and applause to the crowd Gastelum Nelson turned towards the Town Elder and let out a great snarl. Ringing the bell, the declaration of battle was declared. Gastelum immediately dropped to the ground in the center of the ring and began engaging in his traditional form of combat. These spastic, unpolished and most assuredly not at all combat worthy flailing maneuvers were sure to be enough to secure victory for Gastelum!

Open Challenge - @Zerohex @The Mad Queen
Goodneighbor - Mad Queen, @DrBones @Ennuis @GrieveWriter
 
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darkred

It's always dark before the dawn
Jolie Baptiste: New Metropolis, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
"We've bought ourselves some time I think, but unless we track him down he'll do the same to the entire city."
He had come closer than she'd like to admit and Jolie knew that if she'd run into Crane a few years ago he might well have succeeded. That appeared to be true of Marcus as well, as he opened up about his past.
She read his aura and it glowed with the all too familiar colour of guilt as he punched through the glass, sending shards of it into the room below. Jolie peered back in to see that the woman hadn't even flinched.
Reading her aura, Jolie saw it light up with silver and light blue.

Sadness and calm, blended together.
"I'm coming down, hold on."

She looked to Marcus once more.
"What did you do?" She asked, her voice soft and forgiving


Marcus Wright
New Metropolis
Somewhere in Arklym Asylum
Open for Interaction




The half terminator man frowned as he felt his hand and winced as he pulled out glass out of his hand. It hurt to take them up but the wounds had to heal.

"I unintentionally murdered my own brother and two cops and everyone blames me for it."

@The Mad Queen
 
Messier: Goodneighbor , The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
The strange vehicle was something completely new to Messier and she was in a little bit of awe at it. "What is this thing? It's so... Well, weird I guess?" It was then that yet another zombie approached the group and asked about defending and accusing. Messier hesitantly raised her hand but Verdi spoke up before she could say anything about it.

She claimed a half-mongrel was going to represent her in legal proceedings, which completely flew over Messier's head. Just what did any of that mean exactly? When Verdi whispered into her ear, a few things became worryingly clear. "Wait, I'm the half-mongrel?" Messier whispered back to the netherworlder in a confused tone. "Wait, what's an attorney? Or a legal system?" She nervously bit her lip, trying to decipher just what all these words meant, but decided to just go with it.

"Excuse me Mr. Zombie, I am Messier and I am this Netherworlder's att... Attorney? Yeah, attorney. That's me. I am a master fusionist and a master attorney. Nice to meet you." Without looking back, Messier flashed Verdi a confident thumbs up and stepped towards the zombie. "So, things might be a little different in this world, so how do attorneys work here, if you don't mind me asking?"

Then, the netherworlder had another outburst, this time over what Messier could only assume was the girl's strange weapon from before. "She raises a good point, will the person I'm attorneying for be able to get her guitar back when this is over? As you can see, it is very important to her."

@The Mad Queen @Freshet
 

GrieveWriter

U-Incorporated 2nd Class Type Unit
Jesus Christ and Operator 6O: Goodneighbor, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
@DrBones @The Mad Queen @Ennuis @Freshet
She told herself not, but Operator 6O couldn't help but feel excited while riding in the Vertibird. She'd sent plenty of YoRHa personnel to their flight units, but even thinking about how they handled couldn't compare to riding in this machine. She tried not to look as giddy as she felt, but it was obvious to anyone who gave her more than a once over that she was absolutely reveling in the experience.

That changed slightly when they got to Goodneighbor, as from just looking at the gates she could easily identify a change in atmosphere. As they entered, she gave a curious look around, almost getting left behind before hurrying to catch up. Doing so, she almost ran into Jesus, who stopped her dead in her tracks with a glare before an approaching figure caught everyone's attention.

Operator 6O couldn't help but cover her mouth at Hancock's appearance, as it superseded the garish wounds Jesus had and the twisted forms of Solution's odd pets. Melted flesh all over, she could only imagine what horrible experiments the aliens put him through in order for him to turn out like this. But as she looked around to gauge the others reaction's, she found the locals not even sparing him a second glance, with most of their curiosity drawn towards them instead. So it would seem they believed this horrible deformity to be common as well.

Clenching her hands a bit, she refocused on the conversation again, willing herself to ignore the evidence of his suffering.

He asked them about the prosecution and defense, and only then did it really hit home that Operator 6O was actually going to bear witness to a legal debate. No android could lay claim to that. Oh when she reconnected with YoRHa there were tales that needed to be told. But then Verdi started rambling again... and then Messier displayed immediate confusion at Hancock's questions, not alleviated at all by the hesitant response she gave him. And so Operator 6O once more came to terms with why they were in this situation to begin with.

Though she grew a concerned look at that, it momentarily changed to confusion once the sound of snickering reached her ears. Glancing back, she saw Jesus shake his head as he turned away.

"Pathetic, you guys can get me when you've decided whether to off her or not." he waved back only to be stopped as Operator 6O snatched hold of him "What exactly are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"
Operator 6O Poked him with her free hand "You levied a good number of charges against her, why the hell would you just walk off!?!"

"Court stuff isn't exactly seen positively in Nevada kid, you guys chose the complicated route, I'm not exactly feeling obligated to watch you crash and burn because of it."

"Even so, you were there and took a great many actions to see her punished, meaning you're still a key factor whether you want to be or not!"
she declared

He thought about it for a moment before shrugging. Taking it as a nonverbal admittance of acceptance, Operator 6O stepped forward once more and raised her hand to try and get Hancock's attention.

"Sir! Um, excuse me sir, but as you can see. The defendant is extremely out of touch with her surroundings to an extent. I would um... kindly ask that you not let it sour any opinions of her. We're all very... very new here." she gestured around to them all with a bit of a nervous laugh, mostly due to how uncomfortable his appearance made her, "I-if it helps any, I believe that most of Diamond City is accusing her. Along with some of my friends here."

"We aren't friends."

"Duly noted." She admitted before turning back to the others "But be that as it may, I believe that it's the court's decision on whether or not the defendant is to receive confiscated items, especially ones which could be considered accessories to the crime. I'm not exactly sure how things work around here, but from what I know off of records the confiscated items may be returned or withheld depending on the verdict... right?"

Jesus just shook his head, "The lack of conviction in your words speaks volumes."
 
Samus-007/Gladius I: Citadel Tunnels
[Interacting with: @The Mad Queen, @Shining Wizard; @DrBones, @Alpha007; Open to Interaction]


Samus nodded at Oliver's response, letting out a sharp huff at the change of directions. This entire day was turning into a goddamn clusterfuck. All for a shipyard. Samus was beginning to get annoyed as she glanced over to her right and enter the alcove leading to the treatment facility. "Change of direction, then." She'd only hoped that the rest of the group would follow in behind her, being absolute to avoid any further bunchings as she took point. She was beginning to wonder if she working alone would have been the better option, but it was too late to turn back now. Boss sighed, continually pinging Three every now and again since there seemed to be an absence of activity from those Zeon soldiers, at least to Oliver's observation.
 

The Mad Queen

Gladius? More like...Bore Ragnarok!
Jolie Baptiste: New Metropolis, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
He wasn't lying, judging by his aura. Guilt radiated off of him, and the colour didn't change to indicate a lie.
"It was an accident. Right?"
Jolie dropped down into the room below, her hands raised as she took a few steps towards the woman.
"Just stay calm. I'm going to get these chains off."

She glanced up at Marcus and nodded, moving to the back of the room where the chains were attached to the wall. She tried tugging at them first, but they weighted a ton. It would take blood, a lot of blood if she was going to release the woman.
"Sorry to ask this, but I might need another drop or two." She called up "Just until I can find another source."

@darkred
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-
Venkman: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
"I'm going to get a closer look. If you need me, just shout."
With that, Venkman started to move further away from the road, making his way towards the spear. He stayed low, still keeping one hand near to the handle of his sword.

The injured man's hand clutched a small radio, with a cord built into the buggy itself. As Namorae touched his arm, his white eyes shot open and he stared at her, not saying a word even as his wounds started to close over and the blood faded away like he had never been touched.
"Hello." He said, blankly

@Emmadagood
-OPEN FOR INTERACTION-
Goodneighbour: The Commonwealth, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
Preston and Hancock locked eyes for a moment, with the mayor showing little reaction to being called a zombie, or the other ramblings. His eyes just moved back and forth between the defendant, her attorney and Operator.
"Her guitar is a weapon. She used it to create that army of hers." Preston butted in "You'll what?" He asked Verdi "You already killed innocent people, so what else are you going to do? You tried to burn down a city over a bug so what will you do over your weapon? When does the killing stop?"

The Mayor loudly cleared his throat.
"Save it for the trial. That goes for all of you."
He looked over at Messier "You've never been to a trial before and you're standing as an attorney? Gotta say, kid. I like your guts." He gave her a half-smile "That's not going to buy her any bonus points in the courtroom." He told Preston "Anyway, you'll be asking questions of witnesses, defending her from the prosecution. Fighting with words rather than guns and...Guitars."

"I take it you're the prosecution?" He asked Preston, who nodded
"Alright. We're holding this at city hall. You'll have half an hour to prepare each of your cases. That's how long it'll take me to get a Jury together."

He took another step towards the group "The jury 'ill be made up of Goodneighbour citizens so if you try threatening them or manipulating them, I'll know. Not a damn thing goes on in this city without me knowin' about it."

@DrBones @GrieveWriter @Ennuis @Freshet
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-
Karla: Cortova's ship, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)

Thankfully even the Jawas got the message and moved away from the landing platform, one in particular furiously sprinting away and ducking behind a wall just in time.
"You might want to strap in."
"Seatbelts are for cowards." She whispered
"Famous last words but if you die I die too."

Karla scoffed, but as soon as Gunther started on another rant she sat down. Tucking one leg over the other she glanced over at Richard.
"Put your seatbelt on."
He quickly strapped himself in and started out of a window as the ship started to take off.
"Make haste!"

@Emmadagood @GearBlade654
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-
 

darkred

It's always dark before the dawn
He wasn't lying, judging by his aura. Guilt radiated off of him, and the colour didn't change to indicate a lie.
"It was an accident. Right?"
Jolie dropped down into the room below, her hands raised as she took a few steps towards the woman.
"Just stay calm. I'm going to get these chains off."

She glanced up at Marcus and nodded, moving to the back of the room where the chains were attached to the wall. She tried tugging at them first, but they weighted a ton. It would take blood, a lot of blood if she was going to release the woman.
"Sorry to ask this, but I might need another drop or two." She called up "Just until I can find another source."

Marcus Wright
New Metropolis
Somewhere in Arklym Asylum
Open for Interaction





Marcus frowned "Yes, I'll explain later."

The half terminator held out his arm, letting Jolie take more blood.


@The Mad Queen
 

Emmadagood

Golden ball of bloody cuteness
Namorae: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands
Namorae nods to Venkman, before her attention is drawn to her patient as he wakes. She’s glad she’s wearing Janice’s face, knowing that waking up to her true form would be warrant for panic. “Hello.” She says, noting the regeneration. Wounds heal, but only while conscious. Interesting.

“What happened here?” She asks, tilting her head, and examining the device that was in his hand. She has no idea what this is either. It’s frustrating, really. She can’t tell a weapon from a tool, and that’s never a good position for her to be in.

Cortova: Her Ship, Sky above Mos Eisley, The Badlands
Cortova laughs, grabbing hold of the controls. She glances back to be sure they’re both secure, before the ship lifts off from the ground, and she points the nose to the sky. This ship has very good acceleration, as they’re shooting into the atmosphere in a matter of seconds. “And, we’re off!” Cortova crows, laughing.
 

The Mad Queen

Gladius? More like...Bore Ragnarok!
Jolie Baptiste: New Metropolis, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
Climbing back up, Jolie handed Marcus the stake and took another bite. This one was far quicker as the Vampire only took a few more drops. Only what she needed.
Jumping back down she shot at the chains to loosen them before grabbing hold. Her eyes went black and she hissed for it took every ounce of strength to pull them from the wall, bringing blocks of concrete with her and filling the room with some dust. She approached the woman once more, gently pulling back the hood to reveal her face.



The Vampire paused, not out of shock at her appearance but rather to read her aura. Her soul glowed orange, silver and was torn to pieces, a look Jolie had seen many times before.
The orange meant fear, the silver meant sadness and the torn soul was that of a Changeling.

She tried to approach the woman but she pulled back.
"It's okay." Jolie whispered "We're not going to hurt you."

In response the Changeling muttered something under her breath. Jolie didn't hear it at first, at least not until she used her Auspex and her Vamperic senses kicked back in.
"Red rose."
"What did you say?"
"Red rose."

Jolie looked up at Marcus and so did the Changeling, revealing her face to the half-Terminator.
"Third chance. Now he has a fourth." She kept her voice low, almost a whisper
"Third chance. Now you have a forth." Jolie repeated, standing to her feet "Does that mean something to you, Marcus?"

@darkred
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-
Venkman: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
The patient was blank for a few more moments, all the while as Venkman approached the ghosts.
"Hello." Venkman called out "I'm here to help. Do you mind telling me what's going on?" He kept his hands raised, away from his sword.
The ghosts turned to face him.

"A trick." The patient admitted "You cannot be allowed to reach the south alive. You know too much."
With his message delivered, the patient's eyes closed and his body went limp while the ghosts close to Venkman vanished, leaving nothing but the spear that started to glow a dark blue.

Venkman spun around, watching as the ghosts fled away from the road.
"I'm sorry. They made us." One admitted
"Who did? Tell me. I can help." He pleaded, but soon the ghosts were out of sight as they ran deeper into the graveyard.

@Emmadagood
-OPEN FOR INTERACTION-
Higgin's Hell, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
"So I can just jump right in and take on King?" Big Hat asked "Well shoot. Thought y'all had a whole Wrastlemania thang goin' on here. Least that's what the baws said."
He stroked his chin "Then again, it's difficult to make 'im out most of da time. Rambles a lot, ya know. Sometimes I wonder if he's gonna pass out 'fore he can get a breath in. Galoot this and livered that."
He chuckled "Thank ya." He tipped his hat at the Ogress and made his way to the ring, leaning on the outside ropes.

He was so focused on King he almost forgot about Nelson, and glared at the fighter with utter bewilderment. He had no seen such methods before, and it showed.
"What the heck to ya think yer doin? Ya think floppin' like a fish help ya win?"
Letting out a grim chuckle he looked to his true opponent, King and pointed at the man.

"Baws has a message for ya and the baldie. Finish this fish and I'll deliver."
He pounded one fist into a palm, cracked his knuckles and started stretch like an over-aggressive yoga instructor. All the while he made eye-contact with King, seeming to ignore Nelson all the while.

"Just say the word, King. I'll club this fool like a seal and take ya on."
He flexed, tearing his shirt open

"Aww." He muttered to himself, looking down "I really liked this shirt."
His gaze shot up again, glaring into King's eyes. He turned the grief of losing his shirt into anger, and it was all directed at his opponent.

@Freshet @Zerohex
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-


Karla: Cortova's ship, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)

"You may want to see this. I do too."
"What?"
"Look out the window."

Karla leaned forwards, seeing space. A few satellites and ships orbited the Badlands, moving apart from one another. The blackness of space lay beyond, but the yellow eyes of the Tiefling were focused on the planet below. Even from such a height one could see the devastation of the Wasteland, the endless deserts of the Eastern Sea and the Western Graveyard and of course there was the ocean.

She learned forwards at the sight of it, and of the scattered islands making up the world. Despite all the lifeless colours of the twisted planet, the ocean and the lake surrounding a huge island were still blue. Karla gleamed at the sight of it. Not at the beauty, but at an idea. One that had burned inside of her for the better part of two decades.

"One day." She took a deep breath "One day part of this world will be mine. I'll have my own little corner of it."

@Emmadagood @GearBlade654
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-
 

Emmadagood

Golden ball of bloody cuteness
Namorae: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands
Namorae’s eyes go wide. She grabs the man, throwing him over her shoulder in a fireman carry, and runs to Venkman. “Empathy snare, spear glowing, run!” She yells, not very articulately, grabbing his hand, and continuing a dead sprint away from the spear. She can’t use magic to enhance her speed with her hands occupied, so she’ll have to hope Venkman has a way to get out of here quickly.
@The Mad Queen

Cortova: Her Ship, Space

Cortova glances back at Karla, chuckling as they get out further, and the artificial gravity comes on. “Looking to put down roots? Don’t know if I ever could, really. My home is my Ship.” She says with a small grin. “Anyway, feel free to get up and move around now. We’re out of orbit.”
@GearBlade654
 

darkred

It's always dark before the dawn
Jolie Baptiste: New Metropolis, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)
Climbing back up, Jolie handed Marcus the stake and took another bite. This one was far quicker as the Vampire only took a few more drops. Only what she needed.
Jumping back down she shot at the chains to loosen them before grabbing hold. Her eyes went black and she hissed for it took every ounce of strength to pull them from the wall, bringing blocks of concrete with her and filling the room with some dust. She approached the woman once more, gently pulling back the hood to reveal her face.



The Vampire paused, not out of shock at her appearance but rather to read her aura. Her soul glowed orange, silver and was torn to pieces, a look Jolie had seen many times before.
The orange meant fear, the silver meant sadness and the torn soul was that of a Changeling.

She tried to approach the woman but she pulled back.
"It's okay." Jolie whispered "We're not going to hurt you."

In response the Changeling muttered something under her breath. Jolie didn't hear it at first, at least not until she used her Auspex and her Vamperic senses kicked back in.
"Red rose."
"What did you say?"
"Red rose."

Jolie looked up at Marcus and so did the Changeling, revealing her face to the half-Terminator.
"Third chance. Now he has a fourth." She kept her voice low, almost a whisper
"Third chance. Now you have a forth." Jolie repeated, standing to her feet "Does that mean something to you, Marcus?"

Marcus Wright
New Metropolis
Somewhere in Arklym Asylum
Open for Interaction




Marcus looked up at the Changeling and blinked and then looked at Jolie "I can save the world again. It's like when I saved John Connor from dying by giving him my heart the first time."

Marcus's eyes looked over at the Changeling "How you know about me?"

@The Mad Queen

 
Victor Zsasz
En-route to New Metropolis
Wild Space, Gladius-IV


"Interesting." Victor said in a nod, he genuinely got interested especially that Jim Gordon from her world is married to someone else Victor didn't know of but when it terms of relationship. Jim is known to have multiple relationships from Victor's world and he had heard the rumor that one of the crime bosses in Gotham of Victor's world; Barbara Kean - is pregnant and the father of the unborn child is Jim himself.

As for Bruce - Victor himself nods when the Bruce Wayne from her world is a middle-aged guy while from his world is a young adult billionaire that knows how to fight because of his training with an ex-SAS, Alfred Pennyworth. People such as this 'Joker' and 'Superman' is so unfamiliar to him and he never met any one of them from his world. Then again, Victor gets the idea that this Joker is more important due to how Harleen explained about the guy. Speaking of alternate worlds, Victor wants to know how he got killed from Harleen's world.

"You said that I got killed from your world. Who is this individual and how he-.. or she - killed me? I mean your Victor Zsasz." Victor smirks as he rolls his eyes.



@The Mad Queen
 

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