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Futuristic The Edge (A Superhero-Cyberpunk Adventure)

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Low-Budget Man

Low-Budget Man

Junior Member
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A Superhero-Cyberpunk Adventure

Overview​
After the year 2000, a small fraction of the population began receiving "Promotion Days" after a traumatic event. On an individual's Promotion Day, they either gain super-powers and become Promotes or become horribly disfigured monsters called Demotes. Demotes are isolated from the all mighty mega-corporations that dominate the world. People who reject the Mega-corp's control and Demotes live on the outskirts of society, called the Edge. Far more lawless and untamed, the Edge represents freedom from the grasp of the Mega-corps. But that comes at a cost, gangs and organized criminals often rule the sprawling slums of the Edge.

Promotes fall into three primary categories. There are Corp-capes, and Badges, and Edge-capes. Corp-capes are Promotes who work for the soulless Mega-corp that that signed them. They have fame and fortune, but have lost all their free-will. Badges are the few Promotes that join the weakening national government. Their job is to protect the people against threats that grow too powerful and they are often kept out of the public eye. Edge-capes are Promotes who live in the Edge and stake out a living there. Edge-capes become gang leaders, thieves, and mercenaries with their power. In the Edge, might means right.

The most profitable venture for a Edge-cape is joining an Edge-crew. When a job that’s less than legal needs to be done, Edge-crews are hired. Wealthy bureaucrats, organized criminals, and Mega-corps will subcontract their dirty work to deniable assets to retain a semblance of peace. Only Edge-capes have the power to infiltrate a high security compound or assassinate a important figure surrounded by dozens of bodyguards and mechs. Will you survive life on the Edge, or will you succumb to the pressure of the Mega-corp machine?

History
Mega-corps wield immense power in this world, trampling those who disagree. They act as function as essentially countries, with the abilities to make treaties, host armies, and wage wars. National governments still exist, but their authority is substantially weaker. The main priority of national governments is to try to hold on to the little power they have and avoid completely falling apart.

Full-fledged warfare between various mega-corps is rare however. The last Mega-corp war ripped Europe apart, turning once blooming fields into biological wastelands. Entire cities crumbled to dust under the immense powers that the Mega-corps possessed. Landmasses were splintered under the full fury of unchecked Mega-corps battles. An armistice was signed after five years of brutal fighting. No side was formally declared a winner. But each faction did give each other a bloody nose. The Mega-corps realized that they were grinding each other into the ground without victory in sight. After the treaty was signed, the three main Mega-corp alliances eventually splintered off into their own groups and began squabbling amongst each other again.

The story will take place thirty years after the war. While peace has been established, tensions still run high. Anger still remains on all sides after the war. However, nobody wanted another war. So instead, they turn to cloak and dagger fighting. Mega-corps hire out Promotes to disrupt their enemies and try to gain the upper hand.

Life in the Mega-corp
Unless you’re a part of the well-groomed members of management or elite upper class, raising up in the ranks is impossible. Everyday, you spend 12 to 16 hours tapping at a keyboard for a tedious job you don’t give a rat’s ass about, knowing no matter how hard you work, you weren’t getting anywhere. In the next ten years, you’ll still be at the same desk on the same keyboard, typing the same numbers. The only thing would change would be a different input when typing in the date. In twenty years, you might get a different keyboard or a new monitor as a reward. But the job will still be the same. Endlessly typing. Thirty. Forty. Fifty. Nothing will change until your eventually death.

Then after work, you’ll go home to your dull one-bedroom apartment to watch some brain-drying Mega-corp sponsored television about a pristine Promote saving the day while chomping on untextured vat-grown meat marked chicken. Although the one time you did taste a real chicken, it tasted nothing like this flaky grey mess. If its a special occasion you might buy some special artificial wild sauce to dip your artificial meat in.

Your apartment has a few corporate motivational posters, pictures of family, and a couple of popular Mega-corp movies. Every once in a while you splurge your month’s saving on the newest phone or the neatly advertise gaming console, each intricately design to rot your brain away and make you want the next one even more. The feeling you get after getting something new doesn't last as long, or give you as much satisfaction as it used to.

All you look forward to is your one day off where you can see that one girl that Mega-corp decided to set you up with. She was boring as hell, but it broke the monotony of the life. She would natter on about Mega-corp life and you would do the same. Two boring people talking about anything they can to try to seem interesting. Have you seen the new elevators put in? Smooth as hell. No, my coworker Dave only talked loudly for about an hour this time. Someone needs to tell him how loud he is.

Life in the Mega-corp is secure and stable. You’re given food. You’re given entertainment. You can do whatever you want once a week. What more could you want? Why does it feel like you’re missing out on life?

​
Powers


  • Powers
    ​
    In the year 2000, Promotes began appearing. Individuals that manifested strange extraordinary superpowers. No two powers were alike. While there was plenty of overlap in powers, the specifics of the powers range differently. They might differ in range, target, etc. Teleportation is a common power with around a dozen or so Promotes claiming the ability. However, they all possess a different variant of teleportation. One teleporter creates long lasting portals that can move people across continents. Another teleporter grabs everything around a two feet radius when he teleports, including the ground and can accidentally sever people in half. Another teleporter can only teleport non-living objects.

    Costumes and masks became a common-place after the first Promotes emerged. The first popular Promotes that emerged were often harassed by paparazzi and fans. However, they also became targeted by their enemies with villains coming after heroic Promotes when they were out of costume. However, costumes and mask aren’t just a disguise. Oftentime they also act as armor or a tool to help Promotes fight. Very few Promotes wear spandex and a flowery cape, instead most wear armor.

    Anyone has the potential to be a Promote. It didn’t matter how old they were or how young they were. One could be a cripple or in perfectly good health. However, a "Promotion" will never heal a condition someone already has. If someone has a broken arm or has cancer, they will not heal by receiving a Promotion.


Promote Jobs
There are three primary types of Promotes in the job they do. There are Edge-capes, Corp-capes, and Badges.


  • Corp-capes are the big public faces for Promotes. They’re the most well known, sell toys, participate in talk shows, and have their own movies. The only downside is that they answer to the Mega-corp that owns them and not all the work they do is clean. Becoming a Corp-cape is a permanent ordeal since most Mega-corps are unwilling to release a Promote from their contract. A majority of Brainers are Corp-capes since Mega-corporations provide the resources for them to build technology.

    Corp-capes are shoved from event to event, from interviews to cameo appearances in shows across the globe. Every minute of their life is now owned by the the Mega-corp. And the Mega-corp intends to make use of every second. Corp-capes are no longer individuals with their own thoughts and opinions. Instead, they are a mouth-piece for the Mega-corp. The Mega-corp tells them what to wear, what to say, where to go, what to say, what to eat.

    Their job is now defend against the Mega-corps enemies and to repeat inane slogans over and over again. Their job is to now fake laugh at at popular talk show host’s idiotic jokes and praise their Mega-corp’s new product. Their job is to now perform their powers in front of audiences like a parlor trick and to recommend the masses to try a new drink.

    Corp-cape might have a few minute to themselves every night to shower and wipe the makeup off their faces or to clean their armor. Then they hit the bed for a few hours before they get dragged out of bed to attend another fan signing. The veteran Corp-capes recommend keeping the costume on overnight to gain a few extra minutes of sleep. Corp-capes may eat the fanciest food and wear the sparkliest costumes, but rarely do they get to enjoy their riches.


Chess Classification System
The Chess Identification system doesn’t strictly define a Promote’s powers. The Chess Classification System identifies the recommended approach to dealing with a Promote. The different ‘roles’ are based upon the best way to kill a Promote depending on their power. It was ironic when Promotes themselves started openly identifying themselves as certain roles for their job description.


  • A Board - A team of Promotes. In a Board, there is at least one rook, one knight, one bishop, and one king. A pawn and a Queen is not required for a Promote team to be called a Board.




Glossary​

Badge - A Promote who works for the government.

Brainer - A Promote that has their mind Rewired as their primary power. They often specialize in a subject and construct technology in their given field.

Board - A team of Promotes.

Corp-cape - A Promote who works for a Mega-corp.

Demote - Someone who receives a severe change to their appearance and general biology on their Promotion Day.

Double-Shift or “Double” - Someone who is a Demote and a Promote.

Edge - The world outside of Mega-Corps. Anyone who isn’t owned by a Mega-corp or works for a Mega-corp lives on the Edge.

Edge-Cape - A Promote who lives on the Edge.

Mega-Corps - Massive corporations that make trillions of dollars and employee millions of people. They essentially enslave their workers to maximize profit. They may have a presence in every form of business from entertainment to electronics.

Mini-Corps -Weaker corporations that are small fry compared the Mega-Corps. While Mega-Corps may cover places across the globe, Mini-corps are far more local with fewer facilities and assets.

Promote - Someone who receives a superpowers on their Promotion Day.

Promotion Day - A traumatic event that causes someone to either become a Promote or a Demote.

Rewire - When a Promote has their mind changed to accommodate their power.
​

Expectations:​

  1. I’m not expecting everyone to be Tolkien or Sanderson. But I do expect decent quality writing. I know I’m not a genius or anything when it comes to writing, but at least put a good effort into your writing.
  2. Try to aim for minimum two or three paragraphs per post. But in the end, aim for quality over quantity.
  3. Grammar is pretty important. I understand messing up every once in a while, but don’t type like you just graduated third grade.
  4. If you’re going to be absent for a while, try to communicate what’s going on. If not, I’ll just kill your guy.
  5. This story will feature violence, drugs, etc. So if you're uncomfortable with that, I suggest you look elsewhere. I won’t do things just to be gratuitous, but these are ideas touched upon in the RP.
  6. No Mary Sue characters. People are flawed human beings. Superheroes even more flawed.
  7. Have fun!


Personal Note​
Alright, that was a lot to read. You don’t have to memorize or know everything about the world, but its good to know at least the basics of terminology to at make a character. There’s a lot of structure to powers, so try to understand that to make a character that fits the world.

This RP isn’t going to be bright happy rainbows. I’ve drawn inspiration from Watch-men, Shadowrun, Game of Thrones etc. This is a world dominated by cold power hungry mega-corporations that will squish anyone that gets in their way. Its a more cynical look at the super-hero genre.

You’ll play as an Edge-cape, living on the fringes of corporate society. One of the lowest hinges on hierarchy of Promotes. Just because you live on the Edge doesn’t mean you have to be a villain. You could have been pushed toward living on the Edge through bad choices. Or perhaps you did it for someone you life. People that live on the Edge aren’t inherently bad, they’re people like all of us. They’re just trying to get by. Likewise, not all Badges or Corp-capes are shining beacons of humanity. Power corrupts after all.

You won’t have the shiny armor of a Corp-cape or their luxurious hair. Nor do you have the authority of a Badge. But through your character’s actions and the choices you make, you have the power to topple the big-wigs than hold the world in their vise-like grip. Or maybe you’ll let the world burn, just to further your own intentions.
 
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Map of Pleasant City

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Description of Various Areas

​
  • Boneyard - A massive battle between Edge-capes and Corp-capes resulted in a half the district being set ablaze and destroyed. Rubble and raw iron girder are all that remain for the most part. A few corporations still operate barely functioning factories in the Boneyard, but for the most part it is still empty except for wild dogs and the homeless. The only thing that primarily still brings it income is the hundreds of warehouses and the cheap dock space it offers.



Description of Various Edge Territories and Gangs
​


  • Leader - While their true leader is the deceased Promote Witchwood, Wild Hunt speaks for the gang after the departure of their leader. Wild Hunt claims he’s not a Promote or a Demote, but is merely empowered by Witchwood’s corpse that still seeps power into the forest. He says he was Witchwood’s first follower and for that, he was granted power. His skin has become a strange blend of flesh and wood, Bright amber veins criss-cross underneath his skin like a mockery of a normal human’s bloodstream. On his back, branches and flowers sprout as if he was a tree. Even his face appears to be more like a wooden mask than human. While he claims he doesn’t have powers, he seems to be able to control the trees around him to protect the Creeping Forest.


    Description - Those who reside in the Creeping Forest are referred to as the Witchmen after the deceased Promote Witchwood. They believe that the longer you live in the Creeping Forest, the more powerful you become. Those who live in the Creeping Forest for a long time, consume its food, and wear clothes spun from its vegetation will become closer to the Creeping Forest. Many undergo severe mutation just like Wild Hunt, but no one has gone farther. They believe that once someone has lived in the Creeping Forest long enough they’ll become just as strong as Witchwood before he died. So they protect the forest from the outsiders and keep to themselves. However, the Creeping Forest is constantly growing outward so skirmishes between neighboring gangs and the Witchmen are common. Many chose to live in the inner portion of the Creeping Forest because it is safe from the constant fighting of gangs and there’s plenty of food.
 

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START OF IC THREAD​

Dark clouds cloaked the skies from any onlooker. Not a single star was seen in the sky due to the heavy light pollution and the smog being belched from distant factories. A half moon peaked out from behind a cloud, radiating a brief glimmer of light upon the Edge.

Rain, each thick as a bullet, drenched the toiling workers. It fell with a wild fury, as if an angry mother nature was responding to the people savaging her beauty. The rain pelted the construction site with a loud thrumming and drowned out most conversation. It was the type of rain that flew sideways and laughed as people tried to take cover behind overhangs or roofs. The wind bit through the thin stained uniforms like it was paper. They all felt the constant chilling knife of the cold with every hard gust. They shivered. They held their arms closer to conserve body heat. They lit fires and cigarettes for warmth. But they didn’t complain. At least not publicly to any authority figures.

Steel girders rose from the wet mud like teeth from a metallic beast. Stacks upon stacks of building material were neatly organized in rows and covered with tarps to a vain attempt to protect it from the storm. Workers were shoveling excess mud off the metal and tightening the bolts on existing steel girders with their electric drills. Wrecking ball and digging vehicles operated under strategically placed flood lights. There was constant movement and shouting of orders. Digging vehicles scooped out chunks of dirt and shattered concrete from the site and into dumping areas. Wrecking ball vehicles tore down the existing crumbling structures with ease. They were in poor condition, ill-maintained, and made out of cheap material.The people in them were already evacuated, although not out of choice. It was either face the full wrath of a Megacorp or leave. Most made easy correct choice.

Roaring and spewing smoke, heavy duty vehicles thundered down the road hauling debris away. Massive machines weighing over thirty-five tons, these trucks had a sleek design to it. There were no jagged edges or sharpness to it, everything was curved and neat. However, that was heavily contrasted with the filthy dirt and rain clinging to the smooth surface like leeches.

Brights beams danced around the construction site as workers with flashlights on their hard hats labored on the project. About a mile in length and width so far, the project was a enormous undertaking. Work was to be done day and night for deadlines to be met, and safety was of little concern if one worker was to get injured or lose their life. After all, time is expensive, but workers are cheap. A dimly lit sign was mounted on the perimeter of the construction site. “Striker Corp Delta-Bravo Mega-complex Under Construction” was spelled out in neat block letters. Accompanying the message was the logo of Striker Corp, a flying fist.

Below that in a more menacing tone was another sign, “Trespassers will be shot”. Black and blue armored troops patrol the perimeter in constantly shifting unpredictable routes. Every once in a while, an armored vehicle follow the troops on the patrol just to further discourage any potential threats. But just to put the cherry on top, two Corp-capes would exit their nice cushy defensive position inside a bunker-truck to do a lap around the area just to make sure everything was smooth for their bosses. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but necessary and potentially dangerous.

Prince stared out at the destruction of his home, the Edge. The construction site was placed directly on his territory, next to where the Edge borders Corporate lands. Everyone told Prince not to go watch the demolition, that he’ll get identified but he didn’t heed their warnings. Besides, what could the Mega-Corps do against him? The Edge was his land, not theirs.
Prince didn’t wear the heavily armored costume that would mark him out as an Edge-cape, but instead donned a inconspicuous rain-proof coat with a hood.

There was Old Mable’s liquor store where he would go buy the hard stuff for his mother. There was Dixie’s house, where he would go listen to her practice her instrument before going to some club. In the street he would play on as a kid, there was a tree that he could never climb, no matter how hard he tried or how often. The testing tree they would call it. If you couldn’t climb it, you were baby. He hated being called that. I fell onto the stiff ground numerous amounts of time. Bruises, cuts, scraps, they all mattered little compared to climbing that tree The kids would dare each other every day to climb to the top of that damned tree. The cluttered streets were firmly divided into kids who could climb the tree and those who couldn’t. Nowadays, he probably could scale that tree in a blink of an eye with his powers. But that would be cheating. Maybe he couldn’t climb the tree with his normal physical strength, even at the age of thirty-two. But he would never find out anymore if he could do it or not.

Prince’s eyes wandered over to the sign and the two guards chatting away underneath it. Striker Corp, while technically their own organization, they were a subsidiary of a larger more powerful Mega-corp. Striker was a more weaker more local corp. He didn’t a hundred percent understand the intricate details, but he understand that they basically worked for one of the largest Mega-corps in the world, Mighty Corp. He gritted his teeth at the thought. A friend of my enemy is still my enemy.

A slight twitch of his fingers caused his powers to flex. The two guards were an easy target, completely unsuspecting of Prince’s rapidly growing anger. The urge to render the two into dust was enticing. Or perhaps he could burn them under the rain. Give them a fire so hot they wouldn’t be able to save themselves even under the water.

Prince calmed himself with a few deep breaths. Prince flexed his powers once again to check their condition. Some of the powers he collected were waning off and he would need to refresh again. But others were still as strong as ever. Now was not the time for a fight.

Striker Corp was carving a path of destruction to build a Mega-complex in the Edge, essentially claiming new territory for their themselves. While he’d only been in a few Mega-complexes before they are usually massive towers surrounded by smaller towers. Inside would be thousands of offices, industrial areas, homes, and generally be a miniature city. Most of those living on the Edge would resent the rich and mighty for trampling upon their homes. They would swear and curse. Occasionally a few with courage would throw rocks or bottles at the site. But they would scamper away at the first sign of opposition from the Mega-corps.

There would be no allies there, at least no easy ones. Perhaps one of the rivals of Striker Corp or the Mighty Corp might be willing to fund an attack on the site? They would certainly be unhappy their enemy becoming stronger. Once the Mega-complex is complete, launching an assault would be suicidal once they have their defenses up.

Slowly, the wheels in Prince’s mind began turning as a plan began to form.
 
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Street lights gleamed along the grey SUV as it rolled to a stop at a lonely intersection. The night was young, but this corner of Smog-town was deserted. Nearly all the day shift factory and plant workers had punched out and sought refuge elsewhere. Which is precisely what the men inside the SUV were ready to do.

There were three of them: Roger Lindauer, a plant manager for Fusion chemicals, and a pair of armed guards. Roger rode shotgun. He had just finished up a lengthy meeting with his night crew and was finally on his way home. His security had been itching to leave for the past two hours but they understood the delay. Things were out of whack at the plant, and Roger was trying his best to play catch-up.

Just before their traffic light switched to green a quartet of sledgehammers banged into each of their tires - at least that's what it felt like. A heartbeat later the vehicle's wheels were ripped off and tossed out in front of them. No one had the first clue as to what was happening, so the guards fumbled for their pistols while Roger ducked his head over his lap.

That's when giant, glowing, robotic tentacles crashed through the vehicle's tinted windows. Roger cried out as shards of glass pelted the back of his coat. A gun barked in the backseat before the tentacles coiled around the three of them like cold metallic pythons. Their mechanical squeeze intensified with every frantic breath.

The one free tentacle slipped back out of its window and struck the SUV's passenger door. Its triple-clawed pincer clamped down on it and snatched the door off like a soda can tab. Then it did it same to the doors beside the other men. Roger wanted to scream for help but the pressure around his body was so great it nearly caused him to lose consciousness.

With the doors gone they were dragged out onto the pavement. Breaths began to come easier. The tentacles relaxed and then unwound themselves. Then they rose up over their prey and threatened to strike like cobras. Their mirror-finished chrome pincers snapping shut and slowly opening.

"Surrender or suffer," offered a dispassionate voice. The voice of their subduer. A masked man costumed in black and grey with over-sized, cool, blue lenses over his eyes. His posture was relaxed; secure that he was completely in control, like a cybernetic demon among mortals. Then the tentacles over the guards attacked. But instead of killing the security team they pulverized the nearby firearms into scrap metal.

That's the moment when everyone opted to surrender.

"Go," ordered the masked man. They all scrambled to flee but a tentacle snaked around Roger. "Not you; we need to talk."

The other three appendages spiked into the ground and hoisted Roger and his captor a dozen feet into the air. Then the robotic stilts pivoted and made for the nearest alleyway. Right before Roger was hauled into the shadows he spied his guards running for their lives in the opposite direction.

"Mr. Lindauer my name is Mr. Coil, and I've come to learn what you know about the murder of Jeff Swan."

Roger's eyes widened at the victim's name. Mr. Coil's tentacles speared into the walls of the alley and up between the buildings they climbed.

"I swear on my daughter's life I didn't kill him, if that's what you think!"

A moment later they were settled on the roof of the corner tire factory. Two titanium tendrils were constricted around the plant manager. He dangled helplessly out in front of Mr. Coil.

"I would have already killed you if I believed that Mr. Lindauer. But I have sufficient reasons to believe your company ordered a hit on Mr. Swan, for the crime of organizing a costly labor strike at your plant."

"I don't know anything about that," Roger pleaded. In response a third tentacle snapped its pincer hungrily just over the plant manager's shoulder.

"My sources have informed me that you wouldn't have ordered the murder. But they have also told me that you would know who did. Give me a name."

Roger watched sweat stream down his brow in the reflection of Mr. Coil's eye-lenses.

"Give me a name or live in pain forever."

"Emory Marsden, the COO of the company!" Roger surrendered. "He was irate about the strike and asked me who was responsible for it. But I didn't know anyone was going to lose their life over all this!"

The tentacles imprisoning Roger slithered back, planted themselves into the roof, and lifted the masked vigilante high into the air.

"A decent man who worked for you was murdererd, Mr. Lindauer, under orders of your corporation. You did nothing to stop it, and you've done nothing to alleviate the suffering of Mr. Swan's friends and family... You'll resign from Fusion Chemicals tomorrow morning, unless you'd enjoy another visit from me. But I warn you, I'm never as gentle the second round."
 
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'The lights are so beautiful tonight.'

From the small tenth floor room that he currently sits in, Carter found himself staring out his window to look at the outside. There's was so much colors to look at, whether it was from the multiple neon signs that beckons onlookers to come check out their business, to the large screens on buildings that played advertisements and warnings on behalf of Mega-corp, to even small barrel fires tucked away in little alleyways. The drops from the rain sprinkled across the window, making the lights from the street appear blurry dots. As the rain drops slowly sink to the floor, the light within it changes. It looked so hypnotizing, as if there was a lot of life to discover and live.
It was very deceptive.

Carter's eyes drift across the window, his hands just fiddling with some broken gadget he was trying to fix. He was in a trance-- taken from the sight. His hands then stopped as he stared into a small scene that was occurring in the middle of the street.
It was a man and three others surrounding him. The man is pleading to the one in front of him on his knees. He couldn't wear what he was saying but his imagination could fill in the gaps.
"I can get your money by tomorrow!"
"Why does tomorrow never come then?"

The three men then close in on the one, and they carried him out. He was kicking and screaming. Carter could almost hear it.
He then snapped out of it, and shook his head wildly as if he was denying a thought, then he looked back into his hands.
He turned the gadget around and started to push the pieces back together.
'I wonder if he will be alright.'

He looked up again to see if he was still there, but the men where no where to be seen. He lets out an audible sigh and continues to look around. He then squints to a particular spot at the window.
There was figure standing in front of a construction site. Something about it rubbed Carter the wrong way, he doesn't seem to belong with the rest of the area, with the workers or the guards. So this person clearly doesn't belong there.
Are they aware of the strict rule against trespassing?

Suddenly, there was a small cough right behind him. Carter turns around and stands up, walking up to his sister, Circe who is currently bed ridden at the moment.
"How are you feeling?"
"N-not good..."
"Ah... well, at least you're honest." He said, sitting at her bedside. "Do you want me to get anything for you?"
"Yeah... I could really go for some tea right now."
"There is any, but I could run to the store."
"If you would mind...?"
Then without a word, Carter strokes her forehead and stands up, grabbing his coat, hat, and LED mask as he starts to walk out the door.
 

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[div class=title]Izaak Stone
[div class=subtitle]Never underestimate the Force of Will[/div][div class=credit](c)Mountain Siren[/div][div class=location]LOCATION[/div][div class=with]WITH[/div][div class=tag]TAGS[/div][/div]
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Duct tape wrapped around an old futon and bent around the contour of a concrete pillar offered mild padding for the fists that hammered into it repeatedly. It was worn and torn. The strike zone barely padded, the stuffing hammered to oblivion. The dust on the ground floated like a fog and formed a circle around the pillar from the shifting feet. Sweat dropped on the ground leaving a wet circle for only a moment as the thirsty, porous warehouse floor drank it. It was dimly lit by a few salvaged lights hanging over what appeared to me a makeshift gym. The dust falling from the rafters only became illuminated as it fell into the lights threshold. The punches, didn’t sound like fists but sledgehammers, shook the pillar reverberating through the floor and rafters. The futon assailant entirely oblivious to the sound, vibration or otherwise. His sharp eyes fixated on target as he buffeted the futon.

Harder and faster he pressed on. It had been hours and sweat rolled off Izaak. His breathing heavy but barely an ounce of fatigue could be observed. The tape around his fists hid the bruised and raw knuckles beneath, undeterred he continued to muster harder strikes yet. He had not found his limit. His body bore a collection of scars. many of them were still pink and white. Fresh from his war with Scorpion. The bruising that remained around a couple of crescent shaped scars on his chests showed where Scorpio himself had hit him with a blast strong enough to finally put down Izaak. He barely remembered being rescued by the Paupers. he wouldn’t soon forget their strangely compelling leader through.

His mind wandered and as far as he was concerned nobody could easy come in to bother him. There were only a few entrances into the place, and he didn’t want any of the pauper pawns bothering him. If prince needed him he would have to send someone that could reach him because all but the entrance near him were barricaded with huge chunks of rubble. Making it virtually impossible to get in without alerting him. The door near him had his steel wedge of a blade barring the door from the inside. All the windows were at least second story and though the roof had a few gashes in it from some sort of battle, no pawn could do the drop unharmed.

I wasn’t that he didn’t want to be around prince, or the paupers either. He was willing to pull his weight, but he wasn’t even sure the limit of the weight he could pull. Another thing bothered him deeply as well. Since joining the paupers he became even stronger than when he was fighting Scorpio. When he accepted Princes offer to join them he felt stronger. Prince specifically seemed to ‘offer’ him a great deal. He couldn’t help but wonder what he knew that Izaak did not. Prince kept his cards close to his chest. Izaak wished he could do the same but he felt at a true disadvantage against that man.

This was not the only thing bothering him either. He barely understood his power. The output was easy enough, he was amplified. What was hard for him is that he seemed to be amplified by the thoughts or feelings of those around him. He could still feel the broken will of Scorpio, and once more there was prince’s… feelings? a flurry of thunderous punches vented the frustration of having a power he could barely understand how it worked.

His mind continued to wander while he did another circle around the pillar pushing even harder. The dust and chips of stone now danced on the ground from the force of the blows. The rafters moaned in protest. The punches were now far beyond that of human in both pace and force. The tape wrapping around the fists was beginning to bare red stains, yet Izaak failed to yield.
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snow_white_resubmit_by_sakimichan-d39mh3q.jpgKiera was standing on the roof top holding a umbrella watching the world below her. She couldn't help but think back about the past where things were easier. She couldn't help but think of her father.....she wished so much he was here with her today. Kiera was actually on her way to the base but had stop for moment. It was always strange to her how different her life was now compared to 10 years ago. She had such huge life change yes she was being abused by her stepmother but to still come to a place like this after living as one of the richest people it was strange and a bit of a shock to see how the others lived their lives. She had gotten use it but it was always be amazing to her just how different her life was compared to then. Kiera amazingly enough didn't change much after coming here. Sure the way she dressed had changed but her over all innocence never really did. Her views on right and wrong were still the same she was still very innocent in the romance and intimacy department and she was strangely optimistic. Being promoted strangely enough gave her a sense of new hope that things could get better. She still could of been beaten servant for her stepmother if she hadn't gotten promoted. That and Prince finding her and accepting her into the Paupers helped to. She didn't mind being in the Paupers even they did do things she wasn't totally approving of. She gained two nicknames as she had gotten older Snow and Dollface. Snow was because of her white skin, they would say it was white as snow. The other nickname she gained because of her innocent doll like face which did not match the body she had. She didn't mind the nick names but some of the guys could be annoying with it mostly used just to tease or flirt with her. She sighed, maybe she wouldn't go to the base....then again she hadn't checked in all day so maybe she probably should. She headed off and hopped over to the next building landing nice and easy on top of the building.

Man why did it have to rain it affected her powers whenever she got wet....well at least her shapeshifting powers anyway. As she continued to walk she stopped when she thought she heard a noise. "Hmm?" She looked down and realized it was coming from the building below her she noticed a opening and walked towards it but as she was walking the wind started to blow really hard and it took her umbrella with it. "Are you kidding me?!" She yelled out. "Ugh....great she was wet now....just great. Maybe she should hide out and wait for the rain to pass. Remembering she had heard a noise she bent down and peaked through the whole. It was kind of dark but her cat eyes could see. There seem to be a man down there who looked familiar.....was that the new guy that always keeps to himself? She would need to get closer. She continued to look to see if she could make a clean jump. She wasn't worried about the height that was no problem she just wanted to make sure there weren't stuff in the way so she wouldn't hurt her self jumping down. As she looked she noticed a nice clear jump. "Prefect" She purred. She would have to angle it just right. She stood up and to the edge and jump and made perfect soft landing though her hip did scrap against some thing when she fell. Most probably wouldn't have been able to do a jump that high up but well when you hand enhanced cat powers high jumps were hardly a problem. With powers like hers it would probably help is she was a bit more skinner. The guy Hadn't seemed like he noticed her yet. He was punching something he made like a punching bag. She looked at him and smiled when she realized she had been correct about who it was. Izaak Stone. She noticed his knuckles were starting to bleed through the fabric wrapped around his knuckles. "Don't you think you should stop? You won't have any knuckles left if you keep that up." Not bothering to wait for his reaction or think about the fact he was probably going to be wondering where the hell she came from she noticed a dusty old mirror and walked towards it looking at how wet she was and then started twist her hair to wring the water out and then started innocently humming to herself. She hope the rain stopped soon.
Zane Zane
 

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[div class=title]Izaak Stone
[div class=subtitle]Never underestimate the Force of Will[/div][div class=credit](c)Mountain Siren[/div][div class=location]LOCATION[/div][div class=with]WITH[/div][div class=tag]TAGS[/div][/div]
[div class=cont][div class=ScrollP][div class=ScrollC]
The thundering punches ceased instantly as a voice pierced his thoughts. His fist still firmly planted Izaak’s fierce eyes stared at the source of the sound. A woman with skin white as a sheet or paper, contrasted by a red riding hood outfit. He was still as stone as he sized her up. she was calm, and definitely was not posing a threat. No posturing either. And it was definitely not riding hood, but snow white. He retracted his fist slowly. Not realizing this was just how she dressed not a costume he was having no luck discerning the nature of her power for her outfit. His eyes darted to each of the entrances to make sure they had not been disturbed while he back stepped away from the pillar and the woman.

His breath was still heavy as he panted. Beads of sweat rolled down his contour. The tape around his hands was slowly soaking though. As she wrung her hair out in front of the mirror he looked to the roof. She may look a bit like a lady of the night, but he didn’t know any hookers that could make a forty foot drop silently. That left two options in his mind. The likely one was she was a pauper sent to get him. However, that left him no reprieve from the small chance she was an assassin sent by Scorpio.

Though he had never betrayed them. Even in the passing weeks he continued to say nothing about them other than, “what happened is a personal, and he wants to keep it that way.” His war with them was not over, but he was not fighting it as a pauper. He refused to let them get involved. He figured by now Scorpio had put a decent bounty on his head. Believing him to be a traitor, the sooner he was dead the sooner they could rest easy.

He had backpedaled to the point where his equipment was, at least all but the sword. one would be forgiven thinking he wanted his gun. the truth of the matter was he wanted his shirt. He was already at too much of disadvantage to let potential weak spots remain in the open. He didn’t know how long she had been there, but she definitely saw him using his power. Not that he was not going to grab the gun, but he knew bullets were much less effective against promotes. He grabbed his black T-shirt bunching it up, so he could pull it over his head quickly enough to not be left overly exposed to ambush. Doing so he pushed his hands though the sleeves before pulling the shirt over his torso. All of this was made difficult by the fact his hands were currently so bruised he could barely move them. And the sweat made the shirt stick to him. He powered though.

It was at this point he finally chose to speak to the woman. Though he did not address her observation of his hands. Though, she was not far from the mark. He instead jumped straight into it. “Were you sent by a prince or a scorpion?” he stated bluntly picking up his holstered gun while he asked the question. He clipped it on his back for his left hand to reach. He hadn’t started moving that way yet, but next he would move towards his sword and potential exit.

animegirl20 animegirl20
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snow_white_resubmit_by_sakimichan-d39mh3q.jpg“Were you sent by a prince or a scorpion?”

Kiera turned around at the sudden question. She looked at him slightly confused and tilted her head to the side. "Scorpion?" Why would he think she was sent by him? Then she thought about it for a moment. "Oh right you got feud thing going on with him or something. No I wasn't sent by anyone don't worry no scorpions here. Of course you would know that I was Pauper if you bothered to get to know your new gang." She turned to look back the mirror adjusting her bow. "Even if I was sent by Prince that wouldn't be a bad thing." She turned back around to look at him and she finally noticed that he had changed. "Oh sorry did interrupt your training? You can go back to it and pretend I'm not here. I'm just waiting out the rain, it's not good for the powers." She then realized she hadn't introduced herself. "Oh I'm sorry I haven't giving you my name." She walked up to him and smiled. "I'm Kiera Bray but some call me Snow because of my skin. I'm 23. and have been here for 10 years. It's nice to officially meet you Izaak. I would of introduced myself to you sooner but I could never find ya." She looked at him observing him. He seem to be on the defensive. Was he always like this with people? Did she really look that suspicious? She hope not she'd always tried to be nice and be friendly with people. She looked down towards his gun then back up at him. "Hmm your not the friend making type are ya?"
Zane Zane
 
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After scurrying up the motel's rear ladder Rusty Whelan hurried towards the roof-mounted billboard. He clapped his hands clean, tidied his russet beard and mustache, and then peeked at the towering placard overhead. With its display lights burned out the signboard was veiled by the night, but he was close enough to pick out the shrouded tentacled-figure tracking his every step.

This was where they always met: above the glowing streets of Neon Walk, in one of the neighborhood's scarce lightless corners. When Rusty reached his final ladder, the one that would take him to the billboard's catwalk, he jostled up it until his faux leather boots clattered onto the aluminum skirting.

"Sorry I'm late. I got stuck on a call with a potential client," he sheepishly offered. It was impossible to get a read on the infamous edge-cape staring back at him. His grey and black mask keeping his expressions a mystery.

"It's alright Rusty. I would have been worried if you had been on time," Mr. Coil returned. The barb was delivered in the vigilante's customary nonchalance. Rusty sniggered, shrugged, and pulled a data stick from his pant's pocket.

"You didn't give me much time, but I think I dug up enough on the mark to make you happy."

Mr. Coil strode forward, his four appendages writhing around him like titanium snakes, and plucked the item out of his associate's grip. Then he drifted back down the catwalk and slipped the data stick inside one of the folds of his battlesuit.

"I couldn't spare any more time. I need to move on him before he moves on me," the edge-cape explained. His oversized blue eye-lenses reflecting Rusty's acknowledging nod.

"Right, of course. Well I wouldn't recommend hitting him at his condo or office. Both buildings run premium surveillance systems and are crawling with security."

Rusty's warning appeared to be less of a concern to the legend of Harrowstead than their immediate surroundings. His eye-lenses vigilantly scanning the rooftop underneath them, then snapping over to a trio of people ambling towards the motel's lobby. Mr. Coil sized up the crowd before returning his full attention to his sleuth.

"I expected as much. Does he frequent any softer locations?"

"He goes swimming every morning."

"He swims?"

"Like a fish; Monday through Friday. He's usually in the water a quarter after six at the Plaza Health Club."

The pincers at the end of the edge-cape's tentacles whirled and gnashed. Mr. Coil, seemingly excited, cocked his masked head towards Rusty.

"If I remember correctly, the Plaza has an atrium-style glass roof?"

"That's right, right over the pool. There's a virtual tour of the place on your data stick, as well as pics of the mark's car."

If the coppery-haired scoundrel didn't know better he would have believed his enigmatic client was smiling. Mr. Coil strolled forward once more and slid a credit stick into Rusty's shirt pocket. Then he clasped the sleuth's shoulder with his other hand.

"You did well," he acknowledge. Rusty grinned and then playfully swatted the edge-cape's hand away.

"Try not to sound so surprised hero! You needn't 'worry' if I'm on the case."
 
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Edo

Edo, leader of the Snakeheads, held her bronze mask in her gloved hands. A stylized snake stared back at her. Although it was in the form of an snake, its expression seemed mocking. The mouth of the snake was curled into the shape of a smile with its fangs jutting out. If the snake could talk, Edo was sure it would be laughing.

Her fingers grazed the side of the mask as her thoughts wandered. Her legs dangled above the lip of the roof. Edo’s dark armored form was sheltered beneath massive neon letters from the rain. The rain slick road below her still had pedestrians strolling about. At her distance on the roof, they all were as small as ants.

Plates of bronze armors protected her vitals and limbs. However, most of the bronze was covered with a layer of black cloth. She gently patted her bandolier and belt, doing an almost instinctive check of her equipment. Bronze throwing knives, smoke-bombs, grenades, and other useful tools clung to her body tightly. She only had three knives remaining and a single smoke-bomb. One knife was blood stained.

As she checked her ammunition, she felt a dampness upon her chest. Her face slightly grimaced as she felt the blood splatters that coated her entire chest area. The black cloth would absorb most of the color. It was low priority in the grand scheme of things, although that didn’t mean she enjoyed having someone’s blood on her.

She twitched her finger in disgust as her hand grazed down to her waist and came into contact with a squishy material. Brain matter? Bits of skin? Edo squinted at it in the dark and brushed it off. Her hand gloved with a black cloth with a singular small bronze plate atop the back of her hand.

However, in the pinky finger, the cloth hung loose. Edo instinctively tried to flex the pinky finger but only the bottom half of it moved. The rest was missing. An old and healed wound from a outdated form of punishment.

The ideas of wounds and injuries brought her back to reality. Damiyo was injured. The mere thought of it made Edo’s knees weak. Edo didn’t particularly know the true extent of the injuries yet, but so far it wasn’t pretty. She forced herself to concentrate on something else. She couldn’t afford to get emotional. With slow steady breathes, she focused on emptying her thoughts of Damiyo. Although, the thoughts that replaced the original weren’t much better.

Monk was dead. Cold Sight was dead. Lotus Flower was dead. They had won the engagement, but at what cost? Three Promote of their lives for five of their Promote lives. Their enemies had routed, injured and beaten. They will hide away in some hole where the Snakeheads won’t find them, then reach out to strike again at the Snakeheads after licking their wounds.

Half of Pond Street was demolished in the fight the ensued. Establishments and safe-houses were burnt to cinders, along with the supply stored within. Precious food, medicine, and water all wasted due to the fighting.

They lost over a dozen enforcers in the firefight and numerous civilians were butchered on the streets. Edo didn’t bother to count. It was pointless.

They needed manpower and resources. The Snakeheads gained power by fighting a guerilla war and winning. However, when the tables were turned, it wasn’t pretty. Holding and defending territory was an entirely different game than quick hidden strikes.

Footsteps interrupted her train of thought. Edo tensed. Heavy boots pounded urgently along the rooftop toward her, however she relaxed as she recognized the pattern of the footsteps.

One of her lieutenants jogged to her position in the shadows, his eyes scanning for her form. Heavy black armor laced with green trimmings covered his body. His face was unhelmeted, but thick protective synth-skin covered his head. Lines criss-crossed his head in a mark of crude but cheap surgery. Synth-skin is an artificial material that replaces normal skin and renders the body more durable. However, it was expensive and reduces sense of touch. A small price for extra protection, especially when June wasn’t an Edge-cape.

“The Triads are launching another assault,” June spat out. He’d lost friends in the previous fight. His fingers drummed anxiously on the side of his rifle. A few bullet holes were lounged in his face. One of the lenses of his sun glasses was cracked.

Damiyo was out of commision. She was being patched up inside the very building they were stood on. Their heaviest hitter was unavailable to fight. Edo mentally ran through who was still in fighting form, or at least could still stand up.

“Where?” Edo ordered. No fear. No panic. That was not the way of the Snakeheads. A leader does not show fear.

“Beggar Market, about three Edge-capes. And a lot more pawns. Our scout reported around twenty pawns,” June listed as he touched one hand to the receiver in his ear. More information coming in.

“Defend here.” Edo tossed a throwing knife at the building across the street, arcing the blade so it flew at an angle to get maximum distance.

With a bright flash, Edo disappeared. A split second later a dark figure materialized right where her knife landed.
 

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[div class=title]Izaak Stone
[div class=subtitle]Never underestimate the Force of Will[/div][div class=credit](c)Mountain Siren[/div][div class=location]LOCATION[/div][div class=with]WITH[/div][div class=tag]TAGS[/div][/div]
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She had him in a box. He had been scarce only working when he was sent orders to do so. Even then he would go do the job and be back in his makeshift gym. He even had a cot in what was the warehouse office. Prince provided him a room, but he preferred it where it was harder to find him. He did not trust the paupers. If someone randomly joined the scorpions after betraying their old gang he wouldn’t trust them. Once a traitor always a traitor in his book. He expected to be viewed the same way.

This girl, Kiera, didn’t seem to adhere to that. At least on the outside. It bothered Izaak that her criticisms of him stung from the truth. He should know his fellow members, especially the other Promotes. Her walking up to him had put him on edge, his right had tightened into a fist ready to strike her with all he had. He listened to her introduction, unable to fathom why she chose to be so open with him. Her name would have sufficed. Perhaps she could sense his mistrust, he thought to himself.

"Hmm you’re not the friend making type are ya?"

This statement grated him. “Friends?” came out under his breath in almost a scoff. He glanced down pausing for a moment. His eyes looked at the blood that dripped from his fist. It was clenched so tight it was wringing the blood from the wrap around his fist. Letting out a sigh he opened his hand looking back up to Kiera. His eyes were no longer defensive, just cold. “no, I’m not the friend making type.” He stated. A lie he was telling them both.

He stepped away from her grabbing his jacket and plopping down on a beam he had set up as a makeshift bench. The cold of the steel soaked though his jeans almost immediately, not that he minded. Reaching in the pocket of the coat he produced fresh wraps for his hands. Setting them beside himself he began fruitlessly trying to unwrap his hands. It was in these moments he wished he had a knife or something to remove them. “it’s nice to meet you Kiera.” He stated while fumbling with the tape.
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Carter emerged from the store doors, his cap on and his LED mask on. He walked around the store, searching for the tea his sister is looking for. When he eventually found it, he walked up to the counter with a single box, as well as some herbs he can to hopefully increase it's effect. The cashier behind the counter scans the items and then looks up at Carter and says,

"That'll be 15.95."

Carter's mask lights up as this bright blue light emits an ellipsis across his face. He then pulls out the sufficient currency and gives it to the cashier, who takes it and returns the change to Carter.
The light on Carter's mask then shifts to form a 'X' as Carter raises his hand and shake his head. "Keep the change." He said, as he takes his items and puts them in his bag as he walks out.

As he exits the store, he found himself in front of the construction site. He looks out into it and senses something dark from within--whether it was the people that circulate around the place, or the scenery that creates the atmosphere of the place.

He crossed the street and looked into the site, curiosity giving him that slight itch. But then he turned away, intending to go back towards his room.
 
“no, I’m not the friend making type.”

Well guess that was no surprise it was hard to make any type of friends in today's world but she like to think it was possible. She did make friends in the paupers. He didn't looked to be in defense mode just cold. Maybe I should leave. She thought to herself though.....She turned to look where she fell from and could see the rain dripping in. Nope couldn't leave. "I hope it doesn't rain all night." She turned back to him to find him sitting on a beam that she guessed he made to be a bench. He took out fresh wraps and started to remove his well he was trying to anyway.

“it’s nice to meet you Kiera.”

She smiled and walked her way over to him. She then sat down next to him looking at his wrapped hands. "Want some help with that?" She said as she looked at her bracelet she always wore them even when not in her costume. She pressed a button on the bracelet and it suddenly grew and covered her hand and turned sharp claws. "Pretty neat huh?" She held out her other hand. "Well come on let me cut them off."
Zane Zane
 

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[div class=title]Izaak Stone
[div class=subtitle]Never underestimate the Force of Will[/div][div class=credit](c)Mountain Siren[/div][div class=location]LOCATION[/div][div class=with]WITH[/div][div class=tag]TAGS[/div][/div]
[div class=cont][div class=ScrollP][div class=ScrollC]
Izaak continued to work away at the tape. Embarrassingly this was something he went through often. He made habit of wrapping and taping his fists long before he got his power. Scorpio needed a lot of boots on the ground to manage all their endeavors. Izaak had made quite a name for himself despite having no powers or augments. He was a purist too, never dipping into the steroids that Scorpio produced. His muscle and metal came from constant exercise. Just beneath the promotes Izaak was their number one bruiser. So, between his work and his training he often found his hands just too abused to be able to unwrap himself. He has never carried a knife, it was always just the pistol. He still wasn’t any good with a knife, so more than once when his old brothers would get together and drink one of them would have to cut him out of his bindings.

“Want some help with that?”

The words reached out to Izaak in a bittersweet way. he stopped what he was doing to look at Kiera, now sat beside him. His harsh eyes sizing her up once more, as if to beg the question of her worth. He lifted his leg swinging the heavily armored boot over the beam to face her fully. “Yeah, If you would.” He offered in response. He figured she carried a knife or something of that nature but nope.

Touching a button on her bracelet it unfolded and wrapped over her hand. Her hand was now a metal clad set of mechanical claws. He hadn’t figured her for a brainer, but now her concern with the rain made sense to him. A pity he was so shit at figuring out people powers. He was right about one thing though. If her weapon was claws she believed in her abilities at this range. He may be in range to uppercut her into the roof, but if she was like him then that would just hurt a lot instead of absolutely kill her. Despite this he had already agreed to her help. Izaak was not one to back out of what he said.

He slowly opened his hands as far as they would open. The joins creaked and popped as he did so. With his palms upturned he held his hands out to Kiera. “what makes you so trusting?” he asked her. “I was your enemy weeks ago, and you at least know the basis of what happened with me and Scorpio.” He didn’t believe himself to be a traitor, so he intentionally avoided the word. “you’ve at least seen enough of my power to know that you are in possibly the most dangerous place you could be…” he seems to trail off a bit, he could feel his blood getting hot. “despite all this you sit there and smile.” These words carried a great deal of frustration. His chest burned as the anger within him from all of the things that happened to him over these last weeks tried to claw their way to the surface. His heart rate and blood pressure were through the roof. he was doing what he could to maintain calm.
animegirl20 animegirl20
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snow_white_resubmit_by_sakimichan-d39mh3q.jpgIzaak had open up his palms as much as he could, you could hear the joints creak and pop. Man he really needs to slow it down, Kiera thought to herself. She gentle, with her claw made quick clean cut through the wrapping on the left hand then just when she was about to do the right her eyes glanced up at him when he asked her question that had to make her think for a moment. What made her so trusting.....She guessed it was a legit question. She glanced back down at his hand.

“I was your enemy weeks ago, and you at least know the basis of what happened with me and Scorpio.”

She made a quick clean cut with on the right hand.

“you’ve at least seen enough of my power to know that you are in possibly the most dangerous place you could be…”

She pressed the button on her claw and it went back to being a bracelet.

“despite all this you sit there and smile.”

She glanced up at him then looked glanced to the slide. "I don't know......I guess I got it from my father." She said laughing a little to herself. "He was always trusting.....a little to trusting but trusting. He always told me I shouldn't judge someone right away." She looked back over to him and started taking off wrapping. "True you were are enemy and I do know what happened but I mean I don't know maybe you a good reason for it." She shrugged. "I don't know the details so I can't really judge. That and I trust Prince I don't think he would of taken you in if he thought you were going to be a problem. Unless your really just good at manipulating." She tossed the wrapping to the ground. "Anyway even if I was in danger I would just fight you off or run if it's to much." She said shrugging. "Besides I know what it's like to be judge. I had people knew me for years, watched me grow up and one day when I snapped well they weren't very much in my favor. Never thought once what could of triggered it just labeled me as a ungrateful child who had turned into a monster. So just because you were labeled a traitor doesn't mean you actually were." Suddenly changing the subject she looked down at his hands and said, "Ok seriously you need to let those poor hands of yours heal or you won't have a fist to punch with anymore." She stretched out her arms and then relaxed again. This rain was starting to make her sleepy. Man maybe she should just make and head home so she could sleep. "This rain man I'm going to end falling asleep." She said yawning. She looked over at Izaak. "So anyway what I said does that answer your question?" She said with slightly sleepy smile.
Zane Zane
 
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[div class=back][div class=contText][div class=op][div class=ScrollP][div class=ScrollC][div class=portraitA][/div]The noise was deafening and incessant. It didn't matter where she went in the slums, they were all close to the construction site. It was an eyesore, but everything about Mega-Corps was an eyesore, from the dirtiest corners of the buildings to the shiniest Corp-capes themselves. It didn't matter what they were building, or who was building it; it was just another way for the Mega-Corps to mark their land and take all that they could from the area, bleeding it dry of its life and resources. That's all that ever mattered to them, how much money they could rake in and who they could control.

The rain pounded on the streets, and were it not for her power, she would be chilled to the bone. She had to be careful not to show any bit of skin; cold water hitting her exposed flesh would create steam, and she'd be marked by the Paupers for sure, if she wasn't already, as a threat to be neutralized. Sighing, she ducked under the eaves of a broken down old apartment building, hiding in the shadows as best as she could. It wasn't easy being as tall and as bright as she was: enemies could see her from miles away thanks to her pale skin and fiery hair, and there was only so much a hood could do for that. Quietly, she snuck inside the apartment complex's door, moving quickly to get fully out of the rain and out of sight.

An acquaintance had been kind enough to share her room with her, but deep down, Cassiopeia knew it was temporary. She was too powerful, too dangerous to have around for long, especially when the person she's around is powerless. Or, perhaps, her roommate wanted her there for protection. Either way, she knew it was only temporary, and she would have to move along soon. Her roommate, as kind as she had been, was still only human, soft and powerless against the cold of The Edge.

As quietly as she could, she crept inside the dingy old apartment, careful not to wake her roommate.

"Cassiopeia, is that you?"

Too late. "Yeah, it's me," she responded, sighing again. "I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked, settling in on the beaten couch, unlacing her boots. As nice as they were, they weren't great in wet weather and her feet needed relief from the damp leather.

"No, the damn construction did. Or I guess I never fell asleep," her roommate said, stumbling in, alcohol in hand. "Where were you anyway?"

Cassiopeia got up from the couch, boots unlaced but not yet off, and gently took the bottle of vodka. "I was out scoping the land, seeing what I could learn." She took a small sip, grimaced, and handed the bottle back. "You know I'm not from around here, Enya. I want to know where the good places to hide are, just in case I get attacked by the Paupers." She returned to the couch, patting the seat next to her for Enya to join her. "I don't know how you can drink that stuff, even as watered down as it is."

Enya chuckled, joining her on the couch and leaning into her shoulder. Now that she was closer, Cassiopeia could smell the alcohol on her breath. She was drunk, but that was unsurprising; Enya usually was. She assumed it was all she had ever known, so she never really questioned her alcoholism. Her boots now off, she leaned back and stared up at the cracked, moldy ceiling. "Have you given any thought to joining them instead of hiding from them?" Enya slurred into her ear. "Then you wouldn't have to worry and you'd have an entire army to back you up. And who knows," she purred, "maybe you'll be able to sneak me some food every now and then." She poked Cassiopeia in the side, and Cassiopeia suddenly understood why Enya was letting her live there. Oh well, I knew there was a catch anyway. Everyone is always using everyone else, trying to stay afloat in this cold, unforgiving land. She turned to look at Enya, her long legs sat criss cross on the couch in front of her.

"How would you suggest I go about getting into their gang? And who even knows what they fight for?"

Enya closed her eyes, slowly sinking deeper into the couch. "Maybe try getting their attention? Show your powers for once. We both know you can defend yourself against most people, don't act like you can't." Her voice became quieter, and Cassiopeia could tell she was falling asleep, finally succumbing to the alcohol coursing through her veins. "Keep an eye out, see if you can't find one of their pawns. Maybe tail them back to their base, show your worth. And last I knew, they're the Robin Hood type of gang." Finally, she began to snore softly.

Cassiopeia got up and grabbed a blanket off of the chair next to her and gently placed it over Enya. She had been pondering what to do about the Paupers for while; she hadn't been able to find out enough about them to decide, but she supposed the decision had been made for her. Either leave Enya and seek out a new shelter, or join the Paupers and see what she could learn. Besides, Enya was right; she hadn't met a single enemy she couldn't either outrun, overpower, or outsmart, but she'd never been in or against a gang, either. Maybe it would be a good experience. She moved to sit next to the dirty window, watching the street below, pondering her options.[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=tags]
Paupers
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[div class=titleCont][div class=bannerTwoO][div class=bannerTwo]Cassiopeia Enyeart[/div][/div][div class=bannerThreeO][div class=bannerThree]Cassiopeia Enyeart[/div][/div][/div][div class=titleContA][div class=bannerTwoOA][div class=bannerTwoA]Supernova[/div][/div][div class=bannerThreeOA][div class=bannerThreeA]Supernova[/div][/div][/div][div class=credit]code (c) Mountain Siren[/div]
 

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[div class=title]Izaak Stone
[div class=subtitle]Never underestimate the Force of Will[/div][div class=credit](c)Mountain Siren[/div][div class=location]LOCATION[/div][div class=with]WITH[/div][div class=tag]TAGS[/div][/div]
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Kiera was very delicate in not only the way she removed the bandages from his hands but in the way, she spoke. He wasn’t sure what she did for the paupers, but she had been doing it for a decade. He figured a long-term gang member like that would have more grit. She continued to be an enigma to him. He sat silently watching her work on his hands while she spoke.

Her answers deflated him once more. His anger twisted and left him hollow. Both of his hands were now free. The bleeding had already stopped just leaving the raw knuckles exposed. He squeezed both hands into fists and opened them up again slowly. Nothing was broken, just real bruised. His knuckles were nothing but scar tissue. Stark white against his warm skin, they showed that this was not the first and very likely not the last. He smiled a bit for the first time at the scolding while he picked up the new wraps. Once more he started wrapping his hands with the fresh cotton. “I’ll be fine. I’m already getting movement back. Besides, this time tomorrow it will barely be a memory.” He stated eluding to his enhanced healing.

His hands worked quickly, it was a lot easier for him to get them on than off.

"So anyway what I said does that answer your question?"

He glanced up for a second watching her stretch. “I’m sorry.” Came a rare apology. He wasn’t apologizing for his fists or for the weather, nor was it for the weather. Mostly that he had treated her poorly. He wasn’t much for apologizing so he quickly moved on. “yes, your answers make sense.” He was finished with one hand now. He used medical tape wrapped around the wrist a dozen or so times to finish it up. it was no wonder he couldn’t get out of it in his condition. “you raise more questions though.” he stated now wrapping the other hand. “Prince.” He states coldly. “he’s hiding something from me.” He stated.

There’s a pause, while he wraps between each finger. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and things don’t add up. why were paupers in Scorpio territory? And how was their timing so good? Was he watching?” he had more concerns too, but this seemed like enough to say. Finishing the wrapping he stood up. looking down at Kiera, he spoke in a kinder tone. “perhaps its like you say, I should get out and meet the paupers.” he grabbed his jacket throwing it on. “I want you to take me to Prince, its time he and I talked.” He said in a serious tone.

He assumed that Prince was at HQ and that was a safe place for Kiera. Since the rain was bad for her powers he figured it worked for them both. “besides, you’ll need protection on your way with all this rain.” It almost sounded like a teasing tone. Walking to the door he unbarred it throwing the sword on his back where it had a couple of belts that held it on. He pushed the door open and waited for her showing that he was not much for taking no as an answer.


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snow_white_resubmit_by_sakimichan-d39mh3q.jpg“I’m sorry.”

Kiera tilted her head to the side and was about to say something but he quickly changed the subject before she could respond. He went on to sat that the answers she gave him did make sense. Which she smiled in response. "Good" She watched him as he was finishing up wrapping his hand. He mentioned they would be better in no time. Did that mean he could heal fast?

“you raise more questions though.” “Prince.” “he’s hiding something from me.”

"He is?" She gave him a confused look again and raised an eyebrow. "He is?" He went on to explain how things weren't adding up. He didn't understand why paupers were in Scorpios Territory and how good his timing was. He wondered if prince had been watching him. Kiera thought about this for a min. Izaak wasn't wrong Prince did have good timing. She often wondered how found her so fast when she first came here. But when she asked him he said he saw her dash into the alleyway which made sense. Anyone really could saw her so she figured that was all of it. She was pretty sure it was just one of those things Izaak to. "He probably just heard about it cause I remember he was talking to some of to some of the boys telling them to keep eye on you. It's funny he had pretty good timing on me to." She watched him as he stood up and looked down at her.

“perhaps its like you say, I should get out and meet the paupers.”

"Yeah?" She said smiling and popping up. Which was followed by a yawn.

“I want you to take me to Prince, its time he and I talked.”

He wants to talk to Prince. Well honestly had no idea where he was. If he wasn't at the HQ then he was wondering around somewhere. Finding Prince sometimes could be a challenge. Which she had no problem with but....in this weather? She didn't even want to bother.

“besides, you’ll need protection on your way with all this rain.”

"I can take care of myself you know. I don't need some bodyguard." She said crossing her arms and sounding slightly irritated. She watched as he got the door open and stood there clearly not taking no for answer. But she wasn't about to let down. She walked to the door. "Besides to be honest I want to go home this rain is making so tired and-" Suddenly there thunder and a flash of lighting. She jumped slightly clearly taken by surprised. If she had cat ears and a tail they would be straight up. She never did like thunder and lighting. She turned back to look at him. "I guess company along the way wouldn't hurt....." Feeling flustered she turned around looking back outside. "So you got umbrella on ya? I had one but it blew away."
Zane Zane
 

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[div class=title]Izaak Stone
[div class=subtitle]Never underestimate the Force of Will[/div][div class=credit](c)Mountain Siren[/div][div class=location]LOCATION[/div][div class=with]WITH[/div][div class=tag]TAGS[/div][/div]
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Izaak had the opposite reaction to the thunder and lightning. While Kiera jumped and disliked it. Izaak stepped into the doorway looking up at the bleak sky. His dark eyes lit up as he stared into the eye of the storm. She was hoping it would end soon but he figured it was going to get worse before it got better. While he stared at the sky he took the belts that held his blade on his back off his jacket. After finishing with that he set the sword and belts leaning against the door. He took off his heavy jacket, turning to Kiera. one could be forgiven for thinking the jacket was to protect him. The fact of the matter was it was only meant for low caliber bullets which he could already withstand. The fact of the matter was that jacket could withstand him.

“No umbrella, this is the best I can do.” He figured she would fuss about this too so before she could he waved it over her head allowing it to settle on her shoulders. “there.” He said satisfied that if she complained it would be too late for her to do anything about it. He lifted his sword back throwing the belt over one shoulder and tightening it down across his chest. He stepped into the doorway hesitating for only one moment, while he considered his odds of getting hit by lightning with a large steel beam strapped to his back. Unperturbed he looked over his shoulder at Kiera, as if stating let’s go, before he stepped into the rain.

The drops assaulted him soaking him almost immediately. He breathed in deeply as the cool drops soaked into him. Where most would hunker up for warmth Izaak looked to the sky again, Lightning erupted across the dark clouds making it bright as day for an instant. Slowly the thunder rolled into a deafening roar before reaching its peak with a sudden clap that shook his bones. A small amount of satisfaction washed over Izaak before he began walking briskly towards the headquarters. It had only been a few moments but the was already soaked.

‘He had guys watching him?’ he thought to himself. He couldn’t imagine what significance infighting in the scorpions could have to him. Even if he was constantly looking to expand his power, what part did he play in it? The paupers operated in strange ways, and the disputes they did have with them while he was a scorpion, were settled by promotes. They had a lot more on their plate when it came to the silver cross and worse yet the creeping forest and its creeps. This left him with little knowledge about them firsthand, only rumors.

“why do you trust him?” Izaak asked bluntly. She really seemed to see the best in him. She was certainly loyal, he had to respect that, but he wasn’t sure that benefitted him. He owed Prince. Izaak knew this, he was not content simply working off his debt without knowing how it came to be.
animegirl20 animegirl20
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snow_white_resubmit_by_sakimichan-d39mh3q.jpgKiera wasn't paying attention to Izaak at that moment. She was staring out at the rain. But he suddenly caught her attention when she felt a jacket get placed on her. She turned to look at Izaak and realized her had given her his jacket. "But what about you? You'll get soaked." She didn't want to take his jacket. Though it seemed like he had made up his mind. So she instead of trying to give back to him she smiled and said, "Thanks" She waited as Izaak strapped his sword back on to his back then looked back at her as if saying let's go and headed out. Kiera followed and walked next to him. Though before she did she ran back in the place when a loud boom sounded across the sky. "Man..." She then poked her head back out and caught up to Izaak.

“why do you trust him?”

"Huh?" Kiera glanced up at him. "Oh I guess you mean Prince." She said as she looked back ahead of her. "Well I owe him. Prince did a lot or me. If he hadn't found me that day in the alley lord only knows what could of happened. He also protected me to. You see I...I come from Bright - Lights and well with their security and police force they were very determined to capture the monster that almost tore a woman to shreds.....So Prince kept me hidden and made sure I was never caught." She yawned. "He also trained me to fight helped me with my powers. He did a lot for me. That and I had no choice but to trust him. There was no where else I could go." She rubbed her eyes as tiredness started to sweep over again. But that soon disappeared as another loud thunder roared in the sky and she grabbed on to Izaak's on briefly before quickly pulling away. She blushed slightly. "Sorry! Didn't mean to grab you there."
Zane Zane
 
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