[3e] Welcome to the West End - IC

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ClassDunce
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Joined: Sat Apr 01, 2017 9:59 pm

[3e] Welcome to the West End - IC

Post by ClassDunce »

Welcome to the West End!Issue #1: Nuclear Fallout!

***Now***

“Can you turn the TV up Frank?” Officer Louis Carr asked the young Barista as he handed him his coffee. The West End Grind was a local coffee shop across the street from the West End Division of the Freedom City Police Department. “Something’s going on.” Carr said to the group of officer’s right next to him. Carr was new, just in his second month on the job but he thought he was getting the hang of it.

It was 5:00 pm and the coffee shop was filled with night shift Uniformed Officers trying fuel up before they went to shift turnout. Every eye in the place turned to the tv and they all let out a sigh of frustration as Amy Feng was speaking over the video they were all seeing. “—a the Atom Smasher’s failed attempt to assault the Freedom City headquarters of the Atom family has begun city wide brawl between Gamma and the new Heroine calling herself Centuria!”

The two titans were in flight above the Goodman building, the helicopter that was capturing the action briefly lost sight of them as it swerved to avoid a blast of nuclear energy and you can hear the sirens from the cockpit. When the camera panned back to them you see Victoria Atom wrapped around the form of Gamma, bringing hammer fist after hammer down on him just as the form of Centuria swept back in, a burn on her side, and struck him with a wide right fist sending the Atom Smasher flying out of backwards and over the city.

“I think he’s getting knocked this—“ One of the senior patrolman started to say just as an impossibly loud explosion came from only a block over. “This way!” Not a single officer in the coffee shop stayed to watch as the helicopter raced across the city on the television screen.

Officer Carr was the first out the door and he witnessed the pillar of flame explode into the sky before the wave of dust and dirt blocked it from view. He pulled his undershirt over his face and ran into the dust towards the explosion. “Fire and EMT are being called now!” Another officer shouted as he took the radio off his shoulder. “It looks like it’s over towards Trinity!” Another officer shouted.

Carr looked up in time to witness a blue and gold blur fly at high speeds towards where Gamma had crashed and another smaller explosion met her.

***Ten Minutes Earlier***

It’s another not quite beautiful afternoon in the West End. Other than the smog in the sky and the ever pervasive sound of Motorcycles running up and down the highway that hasn’t stopped since the Devil’s Advocates had rolled into the area. You’re going about a relatively normal Monday. What’s happening and where are you? How do you react when all hell breaks loose?
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Davies
Posts: 5081
Joined: Thu Mar 23, 2017 10:37 pm
Location: Edmonton, AB

Re: [3e] Welcome to the West End - IC

Post by Davies »

Mister Alchemy
Conditions: None; Hero Points: 1

Ten Minutes Earlier:

It was his day off.

Terrance had to laugh a bit at the thought of that. As though there could really be a day off from the pursuit of excellence. As though there could be a day off from helping others in need. But it was a day when he wasn't scheduled to work, when he could relax and recuperate. But he wasn't inclined to sit around his condo and watch TV. Instead, he suited up and headed out to walk the streets of the neighborhood where he'd grown up, for the first time in what felt like forever ... not looking for trouble. More sightseeing than anything else.

It was a little depressing, really, to see how little had changed in the years he'd been gone. The faces were all different, and so were the -- ahem -- "unsolicited artistic contributions". But most of the buildings were just the way they'd been, if a little more beaten down. Even the ones, and here he frowned, that probably should have been demolished years ago, and were havens for gangs -- the sorts of people he'd been, he reminded himself, and should not consider himself 'above'.

So much time spent helping people who dream of something more, he thought to himself. When can I find time to help those who fear to dream at all?

From alchemy, he'd learned that you had to seize the moment when it came. Something told him that such a moment was coming, and he hoped that he'd be able to seize it when it did.

And then, while thinking such deep thoughts, he breathed in just a little too much of the smog, and almost lost himself to a choking fit.

"I bet that never happens to NGM," he mused once he could breathe freely.

Now:

"Awww, hell, Terrance said as he saw the explosion light up the sky not far from him. He started running towards it, not knowing what exactly he was going to be able to do once he got there. But even if he wasn't a crime fighter by calling, he knew that his path led in this direction.

Was this the moment?
"I'm sorry. I love you. I'm not sorry I love you."
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Arkrite
Posts: 3828
Joined: Fri Nov 04, 2016 9:16 pm
Location: Canada

Re: [3e] Welcome to the West End - IC

Post by Arkrite »

The Mad Machanist (Maddox MacKenna)
HP: 1 Status: Normal

Five PM was that point where either he'd become really busy, or he might as well call it a night.
Or at least that was the theory, with the rush hour traffic rolling by somebody should need an oil change, or maybe a tire repair, or at least to figure out what that damn ticking noise coming from the air vent was.

In practice? Well Mac's Mechanic shop was pretty quiet at the moment.

Well almost quiet. He could hear the kids playing nearby and the ever present distant roar of those motorcycles. His only consolation what that those motorcycles roaring around were destined to need repairs.

"Do you think they'd come here?" He asked, looking up from his work.

The giant mechanical dog head made from scrap metal let out a cheerful bark in it's "inside voice".

"Oh you," He said reaching out and patting it's cold metal head, "You were always my favorite, you know?"

It was a part of why he was rebuilding his old companion. Junkyard had always been good to have around, the shielding system was nice, and material recycler was extremely useful, but the personality of the bot had always stuck out to him.

"Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?" He asked cheerfully.

Across the room a mechanical tail started wagging, knocking tools off a workbench with a catastrophic crash.

Why he'd started with the head, and then the tail, before just now starting to build everything else was beyond even him. But it had made sense at the time. At least he thought it did. His memory was perfect, but when the Madness set in things got fuzzy.

Like why he was rebuilding Junkyard. He didn't really need a giant robot dog anymore, even with the recycler. But he was just so bored. And Junkyard was his favorite.

The giant explosion sent him sprawling off his stool.

He shot to his feet, eyes snapping wildly around. It had finally happened. They'd finally came for him!

"The joke's on you!" He declared triumphantly, throwing a sheet over Junkyard's head and charging over a bust of Centurion kept close to the back door. He paused to flip open a hidden panel on the bust of the Centurion, revealing a switch that in turned opened up a hidden door.

And as the Madness set in he smiled.

Moments later the Machanist armor burst from a hidden rooftop hatch, hovering in the sky over Mac's Mechanic Shop.

"You thought you caught me unawares? None can surprise the Mad-" His rant trailed off after a few second as he realized that there wasn't a group of super powered lugs in tights waiting to attack him.

In fact it looked like something had hit the ground and exploded a full block or so away. This had nothing to do with him.

Well, he thought, that's surprising.

With the shock pushing back the hazy urges from the Madness he shook his head, noting that there were still people in the street. Poor, scared innocent people. Flying lower to the ground he stowed his weapon and turned up the speakers hidden in his armor, "Quickly now, everybody needs to get inside where it's safe."

"If you don't have anywhere safe to go, go into Mac's shop, it'll be safe in there,"
He called out, remotely turning on the exterior lights on his shop to max, hoping it might help people find it through the dust.
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Bill from Accounting
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Re: [3e] Welcome to the West End - IC

Post by Bill from Accounting »

DARWIN

THEN

A young woman stopped working the pedals of her bike, letting the grassy slope carry her down towards the sewer entrance. She brushed a few strands of short, black hair from her face before setting the bike on the ground. Approaching the rusty gate built into the circular opening, the teen's nose crinkled up as the smell hit her nose. No matter how many times Kimiko came here, there was always some new rancid odor that she had to get used to. "DANGER. DO NOT ENTER" read the sign on the bars, a sign that was once more ignored as the girl opened the creaky doorway and stepped in, pulling up one of her backpack straps.

Kimiko used the flashlight of her phone to help navigate of underground tunnels. The echoes of her footsteps were accompanied by the small amount of water that still flowed through this abandoned section of the sewers, as well as the occasional scurrying of rodents. Despite the darkness and lack of any directions, the high schooler moved with certainty. She never hesitated at any turn and even seemed to jump a stray pipe without having to look. After a few minutes of walking and a descent down a ladder, Kimiko found herself in an area much larger than the claustrophobic tunnels.

There was makeshift lighting strung up along the walls here, and even a small wooden table with a computer sitting on it. These things were powered by a water-powered generator humming near the center of the room. There was a couch and recliner chair with a blanket draped over the arm; there good condition stood against the dampness and disrepair of their surroundings. In one corner was a workbench and a large pile of scrap parts and electronics scavenged by Kimiko's "son". The teenager looked around; it seemed he wasn't here at the moment. Out hunting the rats like she had passed earlier maybe?

There was something in the room, however. Not far behind Kimiko, a large pair of eyes flared open, vertical pupils narrowing in on the helpless teenager. The creature stalked towards its prey; it must have stood at least two feet taller than the freshman. The monster's body, covered by a scaly tan hide, went tense. Its breathing stalled. Razor-sharp teeth were produced. A clawed hand reached forward, and-

Darwin Stealth: 1D20+5 = [3]+5 = 8
Kimiko Perception: 1D20+3 = [17]+3 = 20

"Darwin, don't even try it," Kimiko warned without turning around, half-amused. This wasn't the first time he had tried to startle her like this.

"Hmph," was the disappointed response. With a few heavy steps, the massive reptile made its way in front of Kimiko. "Your senses have become sharp, mother," he spoke with a guttural voice.

"No, you're just getting predictable," the girl corrected, looking up at him. The grin she had dropped when she saw the blood soaking his long jawline. "Augh, come on," Kimiko sighed, reaching into her backpack and pulling out a sanitizing wipe that she usually used for the computer chair. Darwin resisted slightly at first, but quickly relented and allowed his mother to reach up and wipe his face clean. "You know I don't mind you eating the rats down here, but could you at least try to not make a mess of yourself doing it? Haven't I told you you should try cooking them?"

"I like them raw," was Darwin's simple reply.

"Dad said we'll probably go out for chicken tomorrow. I'll try to bring you some, killer."

"Hmph," the reptile grunted his appreciation.

NOW

All of the walls of the mother-son's underground sanctum shook violently. The pile of workshop materials toppled over in several directions, and some of the lights feel from where they hanged.It seemed as if the ceiling itself could collapse on them. In an instant, Darwin was hunched over Kimiko, his large form covering her completely in case such a thing happened. The worst of it passed, but there still rumblings from above following a second shockwave.

"What is that?" Darwin hissed, clearly on edge.

"I don't know," Kimiko said shakily, picking herself up off the ground. She began tapping furiously at her phone; after just a few seconds, she had an answer. "Oh my god, Darwin!" she looked up at him, an eager expression plastered across her face. "This is huge! The news is reporting that some supers were having a big fight, and that it made its way towards this end of the city. You have to go! There could be people that need help!"

"I would rather make sure you are safe, mother," Darwin stated flatly.

The teenager was flattered, but still wanting otherwise. She wasn't going to let Darwin stay cooped up in the sewers eating rats all day. She wanted to help him help others. "Well if you don't, no chicken," Kimiko threatened. There was a pause; Darwin's expression was unchanging as he began making his way for one of the exits. "And hey, if you end up on TV, remember to smile, alright? Like we practiced?"

Darwin was a bit intimidating, being a giant lizard-thing and all, and so if he was going to make it as a hero like Kimiko hoped, he would have to be able to put people at ease. She had wanted him to work on a smile that said, "You're safe now." Darwin gave his best effort at this moment, but the chilling sight of his fangs still instead said, "You have a five second head start before I chase and eat you, human."

"...On second thought, we'll keep working on it." Darwin's smile dropped. "Alright, be safe, and try to keep your camera on. I love you."

"Hmph." the adopted son returned the affection before taking off, his speed belying his size.
RainOnTheSun
Posts: 1152
Joined: Wed May 03, 2017 7:20 am

Re: [3e] Welcome to the West End - IC

Post by RainOnTheSun »

Pistolero
HP: 1 Condition: Fine

Bernardo Perez leaned against a street light and picked his teeth. He could faintly hear the sounds of someone plink-plinking away at a guitar through the open window of an apartment, but it was hard to focus on with the Devil's Advocates riding around begging for attention.

Effin' DA's, think they can just set up shop in the middle of our neighborhood and harass everybody? If they're lookin' for trouble, they're gonna get it, they're gonna get it real--

"Ay, Bernardo!"

His little sister Maritza walked out of the apartment with her arms wrapped around her guitar case.

"Ay, squirt." Bernardo flicked his toothpick away. "You Jimi Hendrix yet?"

"Who's Jimi Hendrix?"

Bernardo gave his little sister the most deeply disappointed look he could muster and stood up. "You're killin' me, squirt."

Maritza frowned at the toothpick on the sidewalk. "We're not supposed to litter," she said.

Bernardo groaned, walked over, and picked it up. "This is what I get for being a nice guy and coming to walk you home, huh?" He threw the offending bit of wood into a trash can.

Maritza rolled her eyes. "Pfft. Like I need to be walked home. I can walk a few blocks by myself!"

"Yeah, I know, but mom's paranoid. C'mon."

They didn't get more than twenty feet down the sidewalk before something exploded behind them. Bernardo turned and stared incredulously at the fire in the distance.

"Christ, this town. Okay, maybe mom's not completely para where are you going?!"

Bernardo put out his arm and stopped Maritza from going any further. She looked up at him innocently. "I'm gonna see what happened!"

"Uh, no you're not. Mom'll go ballistic if she finds out you went anywhere near that."

Maritza pushed past Bernardo's arm, but she barely got a step before her older brother took her hand. "It could be important!" she said.

Bernardo rubbed his face with his free hand. "I'll go check it out. You go home. And take care of the guitar, yeah? That thing was expensive." He nudged Maritza back the way they had started walking.

"But it could be superhero stuff!" she complained.

"Go," Bernardo insisted. "I'll get you Lady Liberty's autograph, promise." He watched her sullenly walk away. After about fifteen feet she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. Bernardo made impatient shooing motions with his hands until she started walking again.

Then he turned back to the site of the explosion, now a cloud of dust, and jogged toward it.
Horsenhero
Posts: 941
Joined: Fri Nov 04, 2016 9:01 pm

Re: [3e] Welcome to the West End - IC

Post by Horsenhero »

Stray Cat[/color]

Then:

Wood shifted on his stool and grimaced. He'd gone out with "the guys" from work in hopes of making some human connections. He'd been let go from his last job because he made his co-workers uncomfortable. He'd liked working at the utility locating company too. It was outside work and mostly solitary...mostly, but not completely and despite his diminutive stature, Wood could be disconcerting. So here he was listening to John...Jim...Juan...Jesus! It was definitely Jesus! Listening to Jesus tell a story about how his dog at one of his pot plants and got stoned. Everyone was laughing, but Wood found his laughter forced. Personally he was a bit appalled that Jesus would be so careless with a known psychoactive, however mild. He stifled a sigh, envisioning losing this construction job as well.

Now:


Wood had half been paying attention to the television as his workmates conversation meandered from personal anecdotes to sports. The action on TV looked kind of fascinating, but Wood could tell from the buildings in the background the conflict wasn't taking place in the West End. The predator in him was a bit disappointed by that.

Then came the blow that sent the criminal hurtling through the sky. Then the building shook and a flash of brilliant light was followed by a moment of deathly silence. Everyone in the bar froze in shock and fear...everyone except Wood. Wood hopped down off his stool, a look of relief on his face. Then chaos erupted and he slipped out the back door unnoticed. All thoughts of work vanished as he imagined the gates of a cage swinging open and the animal lunging forth. His shirt stretched tightly over his body as he transformed. Gray striped fur covered his frame and forty pounds of muscle caused his clothing to get suddenly tight. Almost casually, he ripped the constraining garment and loped toward the point of impact.
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