1. Mr Mr
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    Mr Mr Active Member

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    Into the hood

    Discussion in 'Archive' started by Mr Mr, Feb 4, 2014.

    Into the hood

    Story
    It is the year 2053. Human augmentation has just started to gather pace. Unbeknownst to the general public large corperations are starting to develop drugs and parts that enhance people beyond what humans are normally capable of. It started with organs, a new robotic heart to replace the old one, some pills to help get over a broken leg. Then people started going further. A robotic heart that was twice as efficient, pills that stop the leg ever breaking. They keep the developments top secret for fear of any outcry. Only the richest are able to afford any of their prototypes.

    Or they were.

    On february 1st 2053 a group stole 3 of the major corperations blueprints along with test batches of various drugs. They copied the blue prints, spreading them as widely as possibly. The pills were dumped into ghettos for the gangs to get hold of.

    The city changed over the next few months. By reverse engineering the drugs some of the smarter gangs were able to make their own verions of the drugs. Gang war evolved overnight. The drugs were only temporary and less effective than the originals but that was all they needed. Forced in to a corner the police were given their own augmentations to combat them. Responding with zero tolerance they sent the gangs into hiding.


    The Game
    This is a Third-Person narrative story. Your starting place will depend on your character. The story will be set in the south east area of London revolving around the ghettos where the drugs where dumped (Peckham primarily) and other locations. Police will be aiming to capture / take out the gangs while gang members will be doing various things to aid their agendas. You may choose a class from the following.

    Classess
    Human - Not a drug user or augmented (you may become so later if you wish).

    Cyborg - Refered to as 'Rusties" or "Tin men". Gangs able to gain access to the parts needed fashioned their own augmentations. These include things like a body part being replaced (arm, leg etc), additions to their brain (built in radio, heat vision etc) or you may make your own up (keep it fair). While they can use them most cyborgs don't bother with drugs.

    Drug user - Refered to by the drug they use.
    Player Drugs:
    Trolls - Use a drug known as Tr01L. Drug increases muscle mass 200-500% depending on the batch. Side effects include reduced cognitive ability, weight loss and possible muscle damage when the effects wear off.
    Witch - Use a drug known as W1Tc4. Drug increases senses by 300% or more if the batch is good. Side effects include hardened nails, tightening of vocal cords and wrinkling. Also the only drug known to be smoked.
    Wolf - Use a drug known as W01f. Drug increases speed 200-500% depending on the batch. Side effects include increased appettie and hair growth.
    Dragon - Use a drug known as Dr4G0N. Drug allows use to breath clouds of heat. One of the harder drugs to get right most Dr4G0N users can only melt through thin metals. They are still capable of burning a human. Side effects include burns, increased thirst and fainting.
    Ghost - Use a drug known as GH05T. Drug causes user to produce pheremones that increase the blind spot of anyone in their vicinity effectively making them invisible. Doesn't affect cameras. Side effects include pale skin and possible alergic reactions.
    Siren - Use a drug known as S1r3N. Drug causes user to release pheremones that produce a highly suggestible state in those around them. Side effects include hearing voices and paranoia.
    Vampire - Drug known as V4MP1R3. Drug causes user to rapidly produce antibodies or repair wounds. Requires blood to function. If the wound is to sever the user will die from blood loss. This has resulted in users drinking blood to power it. Side effects include low melatonin count and alergy to UV.

    Non-player drugs:
    Pixie - Use a drug known as P1X13. One of the newer drugs. Test so far have shown the drugs adapts to the situation it is used in.
    Skeleton - Use a drug known as SK313T0N. Drug suspends all processes in the body, effectively putting it into suspended animation. Any damage caused to the body will do nothing until the drug wears off. The drug with the highest fatality rate due to improper useage.

    Mixing:
    Mixing drugs is possible but avoided due to the decrease in effect and duration. It is also increases the strain on the body giving it a moderate mortality rate. Anything above two drugs is fatal.

    Ingestion methods:
    Inhaling - Instant acting, weak effect and medium duration. Administered via an inhaler device that takes canisters.
    Swallowing - Slow acting, medium effect and long duration. Comes in the form of pills.
    'Watches' (Injecting) - Fast acting, strong effect and short duration. Called so because doses are held in a device on the wrist.
    Permi - The name given to users who, through and unknown method, have aquired a lessened version of their drug permanently. No players will start with this.

    Your character may use which ever method you want but will be carry a max of 3 uses (or a combination of 2). Characters using dragon will have 2 max.


    Factions

    Corp - Private soldiers hired by the corperations to investigate the drug leak to the ghetto. As they aren't official they are not friends with the gangs or the police.

    Gangs:
    Red hoods - A gang from east of Peckam. Control Woodpecker estate. A matriarchal led by 'Grandma' a Witch user and resourceful leader. The Red hoods are the most organised of the gangs.
    G brothers - One of the two major gangs in Peckam. At war with the 3Bs for dominance. There group is also victim of in-fighting with one of Jacob's lieutenants rumoured to be planning a coup. They control the south side. Led by Jacob a Troll user and funded by a shadow partner.
    3Bs - One of the two major gangs in Peckam. At war with the G brothers for dominance. They control the north. Recognised by their use of animal masks. Led by a tribunal of unknown leaders.
    D7 - North east of Peckam and looking to muscle in. Rumoured to be in talks with the corps. Their leader is 'Snowy' a ghost user.

    Police - Detectives are normally used unless backup is called. Your character will be either a new or old detective. The leader of the anti-gang devision is commissioner Rufus.

    Explorer - For anyone who doesn't want to be corp or gang. It just means your on your own and can start wherever, you'll still end up in the same place though. Your character will probably be someone from outside the ghettos that's curious (like a journalist) or wants drugs.


    Combat
    Player versus player combat (PvP) is going to happen at some point. In the event of this try to collaborate on one post via pm to make it flow better.
    PvP combat is handled by writing out your characters attacks and reactions to your opponent. To win you have to logically write your opponent into a position where they either have to retreat or surrender - we'll leave killing for now.

    --------------------------

    Rules

    1. No controlling others' characters, unless given special permission.

    2. No invincibility.

    3. Only join if you intend to write. If you have to leave, or if you fail to write, your character will be eaten horribly, or turned it into an NPC.

    4. Communicate with one another. If you're going to do something unexpected, PM me first.

    5. Don't spam with posts, or make them too long. (I had a problem with overtly long posts in my last RPG which didn't go so well. I plan not to make that error again.) Roughly 100-500 words will do per post.

    6. Please stay up to date with posts, and read the discussion thread.

    7. My word is law.



    Your Character

    Prior to posting a character, PM me your idea first.

    Here's the template.

    Name:
    Class(name of their prefered drug/skills):
    Age:
    Sex:

    Appearance(Picture is ok):

    Clothing/Equipment:

    Abilities(any drugs or augmentations):

    Short Bio:

    Personality:

    Miscellaneous info
    :
     
  2. losthawken
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    losthawken Author J. Aurel Guay Role Play Moderator Contributor

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    Approved.
     
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  3. Mr Mr
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    Mr Mr Active Member

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    G Brothers

    "Ok. I understand, don't worry. I'll have it taken care of." Jacob put the phone down before turning to his lieutenant. His lieutenant Marcus was an athletic looking man. He stood at about 6ft tall with everyone of his muscles toned. Beneath his jacket Jacob could make out the outline of two knives.

    "I've just been informed that a tech shop not to far from hear has just gotten deliver of a DXI chip. Just the one we need."

    "I take it I'm going to fetch it?" Marcus asked.

    "Yes. But quietly - less than 4 of you. Head up on a bus or something then wait until it shuts."

    "How will I recognise it?"

    "You won't; one of the rusties will though. Take Fay or someone."

    Marcus nodded his head in a small bow before opening the door to leave.

    "Oh and use the masks. If the police thing the 3Bs did it even better." Jacob shouted after him as the door shut. It was odd to Marcus. For the last few months all they had stolen was specific bits of machinery. They'd barely even fought the 3Bs. A person more versed with technology than him would be able to work out what the parts could do. He would have to ask one of the rusties. Now who to take? Fay was a definate, he needed someone who could do tech. The twins would do for their backup. Marcus made his way to the back room where they kept computers and machines. Fay should be here soon, he would just wait.


    3Bs
    "Right listen up" A man spoke from out of the shadows. All the other members of the room could make out was a large bear mask. It wasn't like a normal mask. This was more of a helmet, it's surface a dull dirty silver. Around the speakers mouth where sharp spikes forming the bears teeth.

    "This is a standard tagging. One group will take the paint and spray the area with our mark. The second group will wait out of sight incase Red hoods or D7 show up. Now form into groups, taggers with Pete, ambushers with Max."

    The man retreated into the shadow as two of his men stood.


    Police
    "Your on patrol tonight. Nothing too long. Either do a few rounds of wood pecker or swing by the market." Rufus said as he placed a coffee and a set of keys onto James's desk. "Take someone with you anyway."

    James gave a sigh before picking it up and heading down to the garage. He gave a whisle as he passed the weapons locker, beckoning over a small man.

    "Your on patrol with me, lets go."

    The man new better than to argue, giving a small nod and following behind. They climbed into one of the special officers cars, the engine giving a hearty roar as James turned the key.

    "So where are we going?" His partner asked.
     
  4. Love to Write
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    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Location:
    Beautiful Oregon "It's the Climate"
    "3rd fire wall down, one to go!" Fay yelled as her fingers flew across the digital keyboard. On the other side of the table sat a man in his 40's, his hands flying across his own keyboard. Sweat beaded his furrowed brow and his face was in deep concentration.

    Around the table a ring of people had formed. They waved money and drugs as they passed bets and cheered for their favorite hacker.
    "Might as well back out now, Mack. You can't beat me when it comes to hacking." Fay smiled confidently. "I'm hardly even using my augment!" That was a total lie. She was using her augment almost to its full capacity to keep ahead of Mack. She may have been smart and fast but he had years of experience...and he knew it. He was very close to reclaiming his title.

    Mack growled but didn't respond. He'd been head hacker for a year before Fay had swooped in and stole the title right out from under him. Ever since...he'd been trying to get back. He'd even gotten an augment, but it wasn't working like it should...and strain showed on his face.
    Two minutes later there was a loud beep and Mack's computer sent up a puff of smoke, it's hard-drive fried.

    "And that's how you hack, baby!" Fay exclaimed throwing up her hands in victory. Those who had been rooting for her cheered and collected their bets, giving a portion to Fay. She reveled in the praise and smiled smugly at Mack, "Who's the #1 hacker?"
    "You." He growled as he pushed away from the table.
    "Yeah, that's right. Why don't you go get your money back for that obviously useless augment."
    "Keep talking, Fay. You may be good, but it won't be long before I get my title back. So watch your back."
    "Ooh...what a scary threat." Fay said in mock fear.

    The crowd around them laughed and dispersed. Though she acted confident she knew he was right. Her augment was on the verge of overheating. A few more minutes and she would've had to try to hack on her own ability alone, without the use of her implant. Mack would of beaten her for sure if that had happened. She sighed and promised herself to practice speeding up her hacking skills without the implant.

    "Hey, Fay." A timid voice said behind her. "You did great today, as always." Fay turned in her seat to see Brownie, a black boy who was the same age as her and had an obvious crush on her. The gang had picked him up off the street when he was just a toddler. He was so timid and sweet that someone had said he was like a brownie, and the nickname had stuck.

    She thought he was cute and amusing, but that was it. She used his crush on her for her own gain, sending him on errands, using him for practical jokes or doing chores like cleaning her bunk and whatnot. Poor little Brownie. He was so infatuated with her he did it all and more.
    "Of course I did!" She replied with a proud smile, her silver eye returning to it's normal brown. "I always do a good job."

    Fay stood up, only to stagger as an overwhelming migraine hit her. She would have fallen if Brownie hadn't caught her and supported her. "Careful. You overused your augment." He helped her walk to the bunk house at the back of the G brother's base. The gang members who had no where else to go, like Fay, stayed there. He helped her to her particular bunk and she collapsed on the bed with a pained groan. Her arm covered her eyes so the light wouldn't make the migraine worse. Brownie popped something in her mouth. A painkiller, but Fay knew from experience it would only dull the pain, not kill it. That's what she got for showing off.

    "Thanks." She murmured.
    "Sure. I'll be nearby if you need anything." Brownie said, before walking away.
    ---

    10 minutes later the painkiller had kicked in enough that Fay was able to think again. That and she couldn't handle more than 10 minutes or so without doing something tech related. She made her way to the back room where all her favorite gadgets and tech were stored. There was a new set of high-tech software they had just gotten and she planned on uploading it all their computers. Her plan was postponed when she saw Marcus, Jacob's lieutenant. Though few knew it, she was one of the people who was ready to back him when he decided to finally overthrow Jacob. It was a dangerous position to be in. If Jacob failed, she be executed as his accomplice, but if he succeeded she was sure she'd be rewarded for her loyalty.
    "Marcus. What do you need?" Fay asked with the utmost respect.
     
  5. Keitsumah
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    Keitsumah The Dream-Walker Contributor

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    Location:
    Nebraska
    Click-click-click

    Click...click....click...

    Silver claws gleamed in the dim light as they tapped against the rafter, rusty stains masking their near perfect edges. Click. Talon grinned behind her mask, her left eye swirling and blurring one side of the room into a medley of colors. The other flicked around constantly, measuring the other's postures, their expressions. Click. One young man in particular caught her eye, his gaze a little wide. His hands twitching in his lap where he was trying to hide them under the table. Scared of a little tagging?

    Click-click-clickclickclick

    Grin widening further behind the screaming eagle's mask, Talon curled her lip and let out a small, but blood-chilling hiss. The boy glanced up and flinched when he met the hollow eyes of a screaming eagle. Yes. He was scared. But no one in this room should be scared except for her. In anyone else, it would grow into cowardice. As for Talon...

    Something long and lean shifted next to her in the rafters, and Talon glanced out of the corner of her eye, the lazy one suddenly focusing as if it wasn't even damaged to begin with.

    The claw paused in it's incessant clicking, curled into a talon. Ready to slash.

    "Easy, Dove. No need to flay me yet." Pearl-white teeth gleamed in the darkness, and the boy settled down a mere three inches from her. Jag was either very stupid or very brave. Talon still couldn't make any sense of it -especially the pet name. He'd seen her kill three others, and yet he still pushed the boundaries, the instincts that controlled her body. All it would take was one misplaced movement, one slip, and she would not be able to keep herself from slicing his throat open. A shudder of pleasure ran down her spine as she pictured the fountain of crimson spattering the floor. If only Jag were someone else, she would not give him the slight tolerance that she had for him. For the other members in the 3B's.

    But that was what they were all for -to help her get revenge for what he had done to her. Talon owed little but her life to the leaders, she would follow them to the ends of the earth. And they knew it. But once he was dead, she wasn't sure what she would do. Would she even survive the encounter? Would she manage to reign in what little sanity she had left, and be able to keep going? Doubtful.

    Yet her lip curled again, and Talon sniffed in disdain before glancing back down at the room below. Then her mood soured. The boy had gone off somewhere she couldn't see him. Pity. It would have been fun to terrorize him for a little longer.

    Jag noticed her reaction and grinned, his own mask displaying a dappled pattern even in the dim light. "Don't worry -we'll get to have some fun soon. I have a feeling in my bones about this." he stretched one long, chocolate-brown arm out and stretched for the next rafter, pulling himself across and then pivoting to face her again while others murmured below, planning.

    Talon merely glared at him.

    "...This is a standard tagging. One group will take the paint and spray the area with our mark. The second group will wait out of sight in case Red hoods or D7 show up. Now form into groups, taggers with Pete, ambushers with Max."

    Jag rumbled with pleasure and dropped down out of the rafters and to the table at almost the same time as Talon. At the heavy thud of boots, several glanced up in annoyance, but when the newer members caught sight of Talon they quickly averted their eyes. Instead of responding to the attention, however, Talon watched as the six-foot-nine Jag flowed down to the floor, his long, lean body moving with a grace that only a few cats could even accomplish. The bare flesh of his shoulders and arms were marred by patches of ghostly white -burn marks that he had put upon himself to number every mission he had survived. Talon couldn't help the small twinge of admiration. He caught her look and winked, then moved off to group up with Pete. Talon just managed to keep herself from spitting in his direction and slunk over to Max, cape flapping in her wake. Talon made a mental catalog of everything on her.

    Springs oiled. Check.

    Dagger in belt. Check.

    Claws sharpened.
    At the last, Talon clenched her hands into fists and heard the satisfying shing of metal against metal. Behind the mask, her grin widened and her eye started spinning again.

    Check.
     
    Last edited: Feb 7, 2014
  6. Love to Write
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    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Location:
    Beautiful Oregon "It's the Climate"
    "Marcus. What do you need?" Fay asked.

    "I need your tech-knowledge. Jacob wants us to steal an important DXI chip, do you know what they look like?"

    Fay's right eye flashed silver for a moment as she checked her augment's databank. "... it's a blue and red chip in the shape of a pentagon. Unusual, rare, very expensive. Typically kept in class 7 vaults." She said. "Where is it?"

    "At a tech shop in the market. Lord knows what its doing there. I'm gonna fetch the twins and I'll meet you outside in 5, ok?"

    The last thing Fay felt like doing was going on a mission but if Marcus needed her, she wasn't going to let a migraine keep her from doing her duty for the G's. "Understood." She said with a nod.

    ----

    Five minutes later Fay was outside at the regular meeting spot. Marcus met her flanked on either side by two identical guys. The only thing that distinguished them was their hair color, one black, one blonde. Fay had seen them before. Together they were known as 'the twins' but aside from that most people just called them by their hair color, she wasn't sure she had ever heard their names.

    Marcus lead away from the main building and to a battered car. It was shabby and completely unnoticeable - just what they needed. None of the other gangs would think they were inside. As they all buckled in Marcus turned to them handing out capsules.

    "These are ghost doses. If something goes wrong and police or another gang come, take them. Try to get back to this car or anywhere safe, ok?"

    Fay made a face as Marcus handed her the drug but she took it and stored it away. The only way she would use it was if her life was in danger. Drugs were nasty things, but sometimes necessary. She wasn't naive...if it meant her life, then she'd do what she had to.

    Marcus took the fastest route to the Market. It cut dangerously close to the Red hoods turf but it was late and the car was just another one heading through the area. Out the window Fay could see the last shops shutting. Market street was well maintained but you couldn't tell at night. In the day shops lined both side with stall filling up the middle. People would crowd up and down trying to make their way somewhere or purchase something. Now it was silent save for the noise of their car. He parked in an alley with the shop in full view. It was shut but light still shone from under its shutter.

    "Blackie the moment that light goes out pick the lock to the side door, Blondie wait here in case we need to make a quick get away. Fay you're with me."
     
  7. BrandonrockstheAM
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    BrandonrockstheAM Active Member

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    The demons came up out of the ground, and tried to drag him into the sewer hole. Hannibal sucked in a deep breath of fresh oxygen, and felt the toxic vision fade away. He had just injected himself with the drug, and had been feeling the pleasure for a whole 10 minutes before it started to fade. He continued walking, rolling his backpack smoothly on the sidewalk. He felt the loss of the drug, and knew that he'd need to buy some more soon. He could make it himself; he'd figured out how to do that. Justin had a hold on him though. Justin needed die.

    Today he'd seen three more of his classmates under the influence of drugs. He wasn't able to do a damned thing. The B3 gang were animals; the school was a place for learning, not orgasmic drug use. It had been good when he'd been able to help his classmates, until Justin threatened him.

    "You just want to learn how to make a poison to kill Justin. Is that really learning?" He heard the voice say. The ethereal figure stood in front of him, his staff looking quite fierce. He had been a fan of Lord of the Rings ever since he was little, but that didn't mean he enjoyed having Gandalf in his head all the time.

    "Well I support him. The bitch Justin has it coming!" Cassandra said. As haughty as ever, the cheerleader had still stuck in his head as a recurring fantasy. It didn't help that the drug made him fantasize a little more than usual. It also didn't help that he knew he could get her in his bed with just a little injection of Siren and a question.

    "Well, I've already made it. Too late for any of you to change my mind." Hannibal breathed out slowly, imagining the figures being blown away by a strong wind. They were whisked away into the bright blue sky.

    ***
    "So, you back for more, Hans?" The man snickered. You couldn't see his face past the animal mask he always wore as part of the B3 Gang, but he had shown it to Hannibal before. "Good thing I just emptied my bank allowance on giving it to your friend Michael. He was screaming that it hurt the whole time." He put the coffee mug he was drinking out of on the table, exhaling a cloud of heat.

    Hannibal didn't even speak, giving the twenty dollar bill to the man. The man grinned, and went over to a cabinet, his back now turned away from Hannibal. Hannibal retrieved the mix from his backpack carefully, and slipped it into the coffee.

    ***
    Justin lay on the floor, gasping, wriggling on the floor like a dog, trying to scream through the cloth stuffed in his mouth as the Botox surged through his system. He stopped, and Hannibal grabbed at the twenty in his hand. He searched the house, and grabbed a post-it-note and a pencil. He spent a few minutes writing and taping, then he left quickly, and left for Michael's house. Hopefully his friend wasn't too hurt.

    "This was what this dog was worth."
     
  8. Fan7asticMrFox
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    Fan7asticMrFox Contributing Member Contributor

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    Location:
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    Detective James Harmon

    James started up the special officer car. From the outside it looked like a sleek everyday vehicle, its true nature concealed.

    “So where are we going?” Said Phil, the junior cop now partnered with him.

    “Just the usual. We’ll hit up the market as the stores are closing. After that we can head to Wood Pecker.” James’ dead pan tone expressed his discontent with the menial task at hand. He had made detective now but the senior officers were still insistent on shovelling shit his way. Nothing ever changed it seemed.

    “Well hopefully we can finish up quick; later I’m heading to the pub with the other off–” The junior fell silent realising his mistake. James hadn’t been invited. A thin smile appeared on the detective’s lips, watching the cogs in Phil’s head churn to come up with a convincing lie. “Err… I-I mean I need to get back to my wife and kids.”

    Terrible. It was enough to make James laugh. “Shut the fuck up Phil. You don’t even have kids.”

    “Oh yea… right. That would probably help, yea.”

    “Yea.” James wasn’t mad. Phil was one of the newer cops in the station not tainted by rumours, so he saw James as just another detective, working hard to keep crime off the street. James found it refreshing to have someone that didn’t mind working with him, but no doubt that would change. Already Phil was lying about having drinks with the other officers and it would be there that they would pressure him into despising James, the “corporate” traitor.

    “Y-You’re not mad, are you DC Harmon?” The young lad piped up.

    “Nah. They are your plans, not mine,” James said whilst turning down Brookfield Avenue, “you can do whatever you want. Don’t stop on my account.”

    “I-Err… thanks.”

    “You can thank me when we finish the patrol. For now, get your head in the game; eyes peeled.” James took a left down into Market Square, where the windscreen glared with the light of a thousand neon adverts: Bright holo banners circled the dark buildings with Minx’s latest cat chow; flashing billboards pointed a daring finger at anyone walking by, ordering them to vote Mayor Milton; there was even some red neon holo dancers in the dark corners of the market advertising Rex’s Late Night Ladies.

    “Come on fellas! The girls just want to have fun with you…” The Holo repeated over and over and over.

    The sunset had faded behind the twenty story buildings bordering the square, leaving the adverts and yellow street lamps to light the area. It had just gone closing time; the streets were empty save for a cleaning droid or two and the last remnants of the business day had either been swept away or picked up by the wind. One leaflet in particular caught Phil’s eye as it flew through the air onto the windscreen, revealing a dancing picture of a girl in skimpy attire, especially around her rather large chest area. “Cum to Rex’s” was all the leaflet said.

    James grinned wickedly as he watched his partner ogle the girl, “Hey you can’t look at that! What about your wife and kids that you have to get back to?”

    Phil’s face burned red and he instantly looked away before cottoning on, “Oh haha, very funny.”

    The car pulled up on the sidewalk, hiding itself under a broken street light. The engine turned off and they both sat there in silence watching over Market Square. All other shops were locked up and shrouded in darkness; only Twitchy’s Tech Shop still had a light on in the back room. It was nothing out of the ordinary, the owner was probably counting stock or cashing up tills ready for tomorrow.

    The quiet purr of another car sounded behind them and as Phil turned to have a look, James dragged him down in his seat before hiding under the dashboard himself. They listened as the other car rolled past. The engine rumble echoed along the empty streets, but the noise slowly faded away and James glanced up to see brake lights turn left into an alleyway and disappear around the corner. Phil had already unbuckled his seat, ready to intercept the vehicle but James put a hand on his shoulder and quietly said, “Not so fast Boy Scout – let’s just keep watching for now.”
     
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  9. Pheonix
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    Pheonix A Singer of Space Operas and The Fourth Mod of RP Staff Contributor

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    -Balefore Lark: The Mad Prophet-

    "I arise to see, a land that is tainted by warfare, and strife... Where the powerful dominate the weak, and wickedness prevails. And what is it they say? That we have fallen? That we are tainted, corrupted and addicted? Ah, but those are the words of men. What does the Divine say? That we are the chosen!" Balefore threw his arms into the air, awaiting the cheers.

    "We, the Sirens and Dragons, Trolls and Witches! Ghosts, Wolves and Vampires, and even the Tin Men! We are the future! The Blessed people! The first to the slaughter, but the last to the spoils, we must use out power to stand, united under our god, and retake what is rightfully ours!" Again he paused to give a moment for the raucous cheering.

    "But, in order for this dream to be a reality, we must unite, under a single banner, and fight! Fight for our homeland. Everything south of the River Thames will be ours in a fortnight, and then, we move into the north!"

    Suddenly, Balefore stopped speaking, and let his arms fall to his sides.

    "No... no, no no no. No! NO!" he started shouting over and over again, then fell to his knees.

    "They know, they've found me out, that know I'm a fraud!" Eyes wide, he began casting around him in terror. "Please, let this nightmare end! Mother, Father! I'm sorry, I never meant to-" Again, he stopped short.

    "That's right, I have you on my side," he said a moment later. "Please, forgive my weakness... I had forgotten, in my foolish pride. Forgive me."

    He then stood, dusted off his clothing, taking great pains to remove every speck of dust that he could making sure that he was neat and not disheveled. Then he turned, and slowly walked out of the empty, abandoned warehouse, into the wasteland of urban decay that was his home, and his parish.

    Because he was Balefore Lark, the Mad Prophet of South London.
     
  10. Mr Mr
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    Mr Mr Active Member

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    When the light in the shop went out they made their move. They exited the car careful not to slam the doors and made their way to the shop. The side door was easy. A simple tumbler that Blackie was through in less than 2 minutes. The inside was like any ordinary shop. Shelves holding products for sale lined each wall and tables in the middle displayed the most recent items. It was tempting to take extra but they had been given a mission and deviating wouldn't end well.

    While Blackie waited just inside the door. Marcus started searching the shelves with Fay for the chip. This was his idea of a nightmare. Everything looked the same, bits of metal with other bits stuck on top of them.

    "Any luck?" He said keeping his voice low.

    Fay grumbled quietly in return. "I want to punch whoever organized these shelves." She whispered harshly. "Nothing is where it should be. Why the heck are the B4 Chips mixed in with 3D2's? It makes no sense." She continued to scour the shelves. It wasn't long before she started to get a feel for the owner's organization preference. He was organizing by color and style, not by model name. In a strange way it made sense as alot of non tech people referred to computer chips and what-not by their color and description. Not their name. When she figured that out it became alot easier to pinpoint the DXI's location. "Found it!" She whispered loudly, holding the pentagon shaped chip in her hand.

    “And I found you! Freeze!” A voice shouted from the side door. A flashlight shone on Marcus and Fay accompanied by the sound of a pistol cocking. Officer Phil was on the scene and these perps were going nowhere. Or so he thought. At that moment Blackie slinked up behind the cop and drummed his pistol butt right on the back of his head. Down. Out cold. At the mercy of the G Brothers.

    “Spotted this sucker from a mile away,” Blackie grinned in the darkness, kicking the cop in the stomach for good measure, “me and Blondie just let him waltz in and then bam! Isn’t that right Blondie?” He shouted over his shoulder to the alleyway.

    No response. Blackie turned and gazed through the stock room and out of the side door, squinting in the darkness to try and see anything. “Blondie?” He stepped forward into the stock room with his pistol now firmly in his grasp, twitching his finger on the hairpin trigger. The pale yellow hue of the street lights edged through the black of night and as he stepped out into the alleyway he could only see the car and a few dozen dumpsters up the way.

    Vroom.

    He turned left to the alley exit where the neon lights shone bright, taking aim at the small chunk of metal before him. It was the cleaning droid, sweeping up the Market Square and just passing by. Blackie watched as it crossed the alley exit and fall out of view. Where the hell was Blondie?

    He turned right just in time to see one of the dust bins fall over, the clinking of bottles echoing through the dark backstreet. Pulling up his gun again he watched as a pair of small silhouettes ran across the brick floor and disappeared down a sewer vent.

    Blondie!?” He turned left – then right – then left again, his finger nervously dancing along the trigger. “This isn’t funny asshole, get out here now.”

    Marcus stared out from the store to see Blackie step away and disappear into the alleyway. The pair inside the shop waited with bated breath for what seemed like hours, hoping for some kind of response or noise or anything from the twins. An eerie silence filled the air.

    Vroom.

    The cleaning droid hovered past the shuttered front, its small body throwing shadows into the shop. The noise wheezed through the shelves, quietly rattling the computer chips and windows. In moments it passed and the eerie silence fell upon them once more.

    But now someone stood in the stock room. The brooding outline blocked any view to the side door and just waited there, staring at them. Marcus drew his knife and inhaler, moveing towards Fay in one move.

    "Fay get ready to run. Get to the car start leaving."

    As Marcus's ghost started to take effect he launched forwards tackling the figure to the floor.

    Fay didn't argue. The moment the fight began, she sprinted out of the shop and towards the car, the DXI tightly in her grasp.

    Marcus caught the shadowy figure off guard, bundling him into the metal shelving hard. Taking advantage of his attack Marcus thrust his knife deep into his opponent’s leg. Strangely there was no yelp or cry. The lack of reaction surprised him and in the struggle he stared down at the knife, the steel firmly buried in trouser fabric. Distracted. The figure launched his knee into Marcus’ chin, knocking him towards the side door.

    The brooding figure picked himself off the floor, pulling a silenced pistol out from thin air and aiming it directly at the gang member. James took a breath to aim and Marcus's ghost hit. He seemed to vanish. James had had enough encounter with ghost users to know he was stil there. As Marcus dashed to his knees, crawling out of the side door. The pistol fired once. And again. And again. Marcus scattered through the door, pushing himself off the archway and into the alleyway, where an open car sat metres away. But the shadowy figure emerged from the Tech Shop, revealed in the street lights as DC James Harmon. The detective loosened a few more shots into the car, watching the passenger door slam shut and the wheels burnout. He kept firing as the car pulled away, popping a brake light and smashing the back windscreen.

    Click.

    The pistol was empty. The car skidded at the end of the alleyway, careering around the corner and out of sight. Damn. James whipped back his trench coat and put his hands on his hips, kicking a tin can on the ground. Routine patrols were getting more dangerous every day. He hadn’t come out of it unscathed either, only now realising the knife protruding from his leg. Evidence I suppose. But it would never get followed up. These days the police were just as corrupt as the gangs, if not more. Dirty cops had hands in two pockets: the gangs and the corporations. It was just a losing battle.

    “James.” Phil lent on the side door archway holding a napkin on his bleeding head. His face was tired and groggy James could see, the young cop’s mood quiet and broken. He looked like a dog that knew he’d done wrong.

    “I told you to wait in the car,” James scolded him, “You could have been killed.”

    “Sir… your leg.”

    “Don’t change the subject… oh it doesn’t matter,” James marched past the cop, not making eye contact. “Call the station and let’s get this wrapped up.”
     
  11. Pheonix
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    Pheonix A Singer of Space Operas and The Fourth Mod of RP Staff Contributor

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    Balefore Lark

    Patrol, Balefore enjoyed patrol. Grandma didn't have to use her persuasive words to entice him with the prospect, but she did anyway. Two men had ushered him into a shadowy room. The inside was dark and smokey, the scent of incense hanging in the air. From out of the shadows came a red robed woman. She held a discolored cigarette in between her lips the rest of her face hidden by hood. Balefore had found her majestic upon his first meeting with her, and that awe still lingered in him. If he were Prophet, she was a seer.

    "Prophet," She said taking a puff,"Everyday our enemies draw closer. They circle like vultures. We need to see them off. You need to protect what is ours, take some of our men and do a patrol."

    "Of course..." he replied, calmly, inwardly basking in the opportunity to help hold their foothold. After all, his dream of uniting the gangs could not be made reality without a heavy hand to start.

    Not long later, Balefore was out on the streets, hunting for the glory of his god. And he had found unbelievers that needed to be cleansed: a band of B3s. It looked as though they were tagging, marking their territory. Only, this wasn't their territory, it was Balefore's, and he would make damn sure they knew it.

    "Alright," he whispered to the others. Spread out wide, we don't know for sure how many they are. Pick off any easy targets, and lets try and take a leader alive," he said, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

    Be careful Bale, this may be a trap.

    He stopped dead, the smile vanishing from his face. God was speaking to him.

    "You think so?" he asked, in a whisper.

    I do not think, I know. Tread lightly.

    "Always, lord," Balefore replied, and the grin returned to his face as he pulled the crimson hood over his face and silently started moving closer to where the B3's were, a long thin blade in his hand.
     
  12. BrandonrockstheAM
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    BrandonrockstheAM Active Member

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    ***High School***

    "Hans, I can't. I just need more of it... I am addicted to it. I feel like I'm going to die whenever I don't have it." Michael said, his face ghastly white with the effects of the Ghost drug. Hannibal could barely see him, even at this angle, as the ghostly boy sat on a school bench in the lunch area. He had worked with Michael for a few minutes to try and be able to see him clearly. Hannibal had finally been able to see all of Michael when he was standing up around 3 meters from Michael. "I even consented to... you know. With Justin for it! It was terrible..."

    "You can fight it. Just think of all the times we've had together. Just remember the time we all went to the Prom on our freshman year!" Hannibal smiled.

    Michael looked at Hans, his mouth lifting up into a full-on grin. "I remember. Both our dates were pretty angry. The purple stains totally ruined their outfits!" He chuckled, "Who were we to think we'd 'get some' that night? We were barely 14!"

    Hannibal smiled, remembering the setup. He remembered discussing the plan with Michael's and his own dates, telling them not to go too harsh on him when it happened. It had gone just as planned; everyone had walked away happy and laughing.

    "Yeah, we were pretty foolish. Not like we're much better now." Hannibal replied, tilting his head and grinning.

    The curvy figure of Cassandra, dolled up in her cheerleader outfit complete with makeup appeared in his vision, behind Michael. "Correct. You are an evil, sadistic murderer. You manipulate others." He heard her.
    He knew it wasn't real, but he still heard her voice. He was not evil or sadistic. He had done the right thing. The school was free of 3B influence, at least for now. He shook his head, but Cassandra just stood there.

    "Well, you're a ton better. I'm the one I'm not sure of." Michael scratched the back of his neck. The color was returning to his body, as the effects of the pill he'd swallowed 15 minutes began to wear off. "You've been helping so many people over the years, you've got excellent grades, and you're ambitious in a good way. You're also one of the few people I know who is completely drug-free! Meanwhile I'm just a delinquent druggie. I literally am a ghost in this school."

    "You made him this way. That Prom Night left him alone at night. If only you hadn't invited him, he wouldn't have gotten sucked in to the world of gangs and drugs! Don't forget that you are a druggie as well. Just as addicted as he is!" Cassandra shouted. Her hips swayed deliciously as she turned away from him. "You're also very naughty. Imagining me in my cheerleader outfit... oh my."
    "Shut up Cassandra." Hannibal muttered, as the figure of Cassandra vanished into thin air. Then realized he'd said it out loud.

    Michael looked around, as if looking for Cassandra. "Who's Cassandra?" Michael looked confusedly at Hannibal. "Oh yeah, the cheerleader... Are you daydreaming about her?" he smirked.

    Hannibal decided to try something. Justin had said there would be side effects... time to test them out. He quickly thought about what he would say.

    "Um... yeah. Just don't let her know, alright?" Hannibal added a little emphasis to his words, letting a drip of the seductive voice he'd gained when he started using the drug flow into his words. He saw Michael's eyes almost close sleepily in response."You also are not addicted to the Ghost drug anymore. You gain the confidence in yourself you never had. You will remember me as you fondly remember me now, but you will know that I am busy and will not take up any of my time that I do not suggest."

    Michael nodded sleepily, then he walked away.

    Hannibal smiled, realizing just how much he could help his school. With B3 gone, eventually he'd help everyone. This drug would make it so much easier. He had just improved the life of one more person at this school. He saw another teen, his face flushed, and breathing out little bursts of visibly hot air. Hannibal walked towards him, greeting him affably. Time to experiment.
     
  13. Keitsumah
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    Keitsumah The Dream-Walker Contributor

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    Outside the night air was cool. The 3Bs had just reached the area they were meant to tag. It was a line of shops situated between Woodpecker estate and the police station. With their shutters down they had the perfect canvas for leaving their mark. As planned the first group set to work spraying anything they could. The second group dissapeared, climbing into bins, under cars, on top of roof tops. Max sat on the shops roof out of sight. He hated ambushes. The fighting was fun but waiting - sometimes without anyone turning up - took forever. Next to him was Talon. Talon unnerved him. Why anyone felt the need to wear a cape was beyond him. Although she could ambush better than most people so she was good to have around.

    "Can you see anything?" He said.

    Talon shook her head, irritation causing her body to tense up and her eyes to flick too quickly to different locations. Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta. She itched to sink her claws into something. Jag had said he'd had a good feeling -not that she always bet against him, but she wasn't completely dependent on him either- so where was the action he had promised?

    Her claws grated against the cement with a thin screeching sound, then she balled her hands into fists. Talon had little patience, but being an ambusher was all about that. Gritting her teeth, Talon hunkered down and glared at the street, watching for any movement out of the ordinary.

    Then she spotted it. A shadow flitting between two alleys. Her eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas and a grin pulled her lips tight over pearl-white teeth.

    "There." She whispered, then flinched at the sound. Her voice was like that of a small child; a high, husky soprano that Talon knew would drive most men crazy if she wanted to use it -and if she was a Siren user, it would have been all the better. But she hated her voice. It reminded her all too much of her past life. Of Gale. And the side effects usually drove people insane in the long run, and Talon had enough sense to hold together what little sanity she had left.

    At least, for now...

    Max sat up checking if Talon had indeed spotted someone. Some ways down the road he could see people in hoods, knives glittering in the street light.

    "Ok Talon, get them." Max said pulling his mask down and his hammer out.

    Talon was gone before he'd ever finished the sentence. Gliding along the cement wall, she prowled over to where the Hoods were now streaking openly down the road. They were in a small "V" formation of five, two on each side of the leader. Talon grinned. Despite being organized and meticulously controlled, the Red Hoods were notoriously vulnerable to her by using those formations. Her attack style was one of a kind, and very lethal. Drop from a building and land on the enemy's shoulders -breaking them, and potentially the spine, thus rendering that foe useless- then leaping off to slash at the next opponent's throat. If it went well, Talon could get two kills before she ever hit the ground.

    But this was all going to be used on the gang that Talon would rather not get involved with. She wanted the G Brothers.

    She wanted Gale.

    Letting out a scream of pure rage, Talon sprang off the lip of the building. The air hummed past her mask in the split second before she crashed down on the left-hand tail member. There was a dull crunch as bones cracked beneath her weight, and before the body dropped out from beneath her she kicked off, claws flashing in the moonlight as she sought her next opponent's throat.
     
  14. Pheonix
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    Pheonix A Singer of Space Operas and The Fourth Mod of RP Staff Contributor

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    Balefore

    Balefore grinned as he saw one his fellow Hoods dropped. He stepped out of a back alley, two swords now in hand. They had been spotted earlier than he had expected, but what could be expected when five of his people had charged in like fools. He had told them to spread out, but had they listened? Obviously not, otherwise one of them wouldn't have a shattered collar bone and be bleeding out on the street. Fools.

    As he watched, another had his throat slashed out and fell to the ground, gurgling. The one attacking was a cyborg girl, her movements were quick, but not fluid. She looked like she were fighting for her life, even though she clearly had the upper hand.

    As the other hoods finally had a moment to react, the three still standing made a retaliation, although not coordinated at all. One took a swing at her, while another pulled a handgun from his jacket and tried to take aim.

    "You have not yet received the gospel," Balefore called. "So you cannot be held totally responsible for your sins... However my god demands blood for blood," he said, still grinning. Then steadying his blades, he charged, a crazed glint in his eyes.
     
  15. Love to Write
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    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    Back in Jacob's office, Marcus and Fay caught their breath. It had been a frantic ride back to the base not stopping or slowing down for anything. Jacob wasn't pleased that Blackie had been left behind but understood it had been neccessary. He sat in his chair opposite them turning the chip over in his hands, smiling. At first the smile had confused Fay but now it was creeping her out. His expression hadn't changed for several minutes now. Thankfully Marcus seemed to feel the same way and coughed breaking the silence. Jacob jerked out of his thoughts.
    "Oh yes," he said collecting himself, "Well done you two. This chip is the last component of a very important device."

    He took out a key unlocking the draw in his desk and pulled out a box.

    "Do you know what these components make Fay?"

    Fay leaned forward and studied the odds and ends. Her eye flashed silver as her augment recalled names and details about the circuitry and chips. Then she ran through of list of possible items it could be. Only one fit the exact makeup of the box. The whole process took a matter of seconds.

    "A short range EMP. Some call it SREMP." Fay replied.

    "Oh you are clever. Now your next task is to build it. Come back when its done."

    Fay took the box in her hands, a feeling of uneasiness welling up within her. An EMP could do alot of damage if used in the right place. "It might take a few days." She replied.

    "That should be fine," Jacob said, "It'll take me a few days to plan the next operation anyway."

    Fay glanced at Marcus then nodded her head to Jacob. "I'll get started right away." She turned and headed to the Tech room.
    -----

    "Fay!" Brownie exclaimed, jumping to his feet as he saw his crush come into the Tech Room. "I heard about what happened. You guys almost got nabbed by the cops? And almost shot!? You're so brave."
    "Bravery has nothing to do it." Fay replied, her face still white from the encounter. "We were lucky." She set the box on a nearby table and turned on the desk light to better examine the pieces. Brownie whistled at the collection.
    "What are you making?"
    "A SREMP." Fay replied as she sat down.
    "A shrimp?"
    "No.... S.R.E.M.P. Short range EMP." She explained with small smile.
    "Oh...are you going to make it now? It's 1:00 in the morning."
    "I can't sleep. I'm still buzzed from that burst of adrenaline. But you go get some rest. I'll call if I need anything."
    "If you're staying awake, so am I!"
    "Stupid boy." Fay replied with a shake of her head, but still she smiled. It would be nice to have company.
     
  16. Fan7asticMrFox
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    Fan7asticMrFox Contributing Member Contributor

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    James Harmon

    The red and blue of cop cars flickered across the brick walls, dancing down the alley ways and into the night sky. Police tape surrounded the shop and the backstreet with white suited forensic teams swept the area. James and Phil were at the front of the store debriefing with Captain Mathers.

    “We are unsure what they were trying to steal, but the perp we caught should give us that info back at the station.” James nodded his head towards the back of one of the cop cars, where a black haired gang member sat miserably in cuffs. “I knocked out of them – they called him ‘Blondie’ – cuffed him too, but he must of escaped too.”

    “So let me get this straight,” The captain clenched his teeth in pause, his leathered and wrinkly face creasing into a grimace, “you let four G brothers get the better of you, steal something that you have yet to identify, with no registration for the car or description? Perhaps you haven’t got the sand to make it as Detective, Harmon…”

    Phil had to voice himself. The lad had courage, he could own up to his mistakes. “Sir, it’s my fault,” He said still dabbing a napkin to his head, “I rushed in and compromised the operation. If it wasn’t for James’ quick thinking I’d probably be dead… or worse.”

    James gave a thin smile, appreciative of what the cop had said. But he could tell the Captain wasn’t best pleased. Not because of how the lad had performed, but because Mathers wasn’t able to put blame on the detective. The pair were always locking horns. Mathers wanted James out of the force. James knew that Mathers was rotten. To the core.

    “Even so…” The Captain started, facing James with a sneer, “You have no information to go o–”

    “There were four G brothers,” James stated, “they came in an unregistered Mac Perriera, 1.5 litre, colour black but mainly rusted. The perp we caught was an identical twin of another, the one they called ‘Blondie’. The other two were a man and a woman; he used her name, ‘Fay’. He was athletic, muscular, around 6ft and carried knives. She was smaller with short brown hair, streaks of purple and brown eyes and a gang tattoo on her right shoulder. Both had masks. She was the hacker though, I could tell by the equipment strapped to her belt. Is there anything else you would like to know, Captain?”

    The pair faced off, staring each other down, inches away. Phil shrunk away in the middle as he watched the two, stepping off slightly in case there was a bust up. After what seemed like hours the Captain moved back and grimaced.

    “I want the report on my desk tomorrow morning. Full detailed.”

    “Yes sir.” James said dryly. And with that the Captain got in his car and left. “Cock sucking pr–“

    “Forget him James.” Phil butted in. “Let’s go grab a drink; we can let the perp stew in a cell for a few hours.”

    “I thought you were meeting the other cops at the pub?” James eyebrowed the lad.

    “Well… you did just save my life,” Phil smiled and patted the detective on the shoulder, “so I think that you’re owed a pint.”
     
  17. Keitsumah
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    Keitsumah The Dream-Walker Contributor

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    Talon and Balefore

    "You have not yet received the gospel," Balefore called. "So you cannot be held totally responsible for your sins... However my god demands blood for blood," he said, still grinning. Then steadying his blades, he charged, a crazed glint in his eyes.

    Talon backflipped, using her springs to gain more height and distance from her opponents. Lips curled back in a fearsome snarl, the girl hacked and slashed wildly at any that dared get too close. She kept darting away and then sprinting back into battle again, but to the experienced fighter, it soon became obvious that she was favoring her left arm, forcing the others to continue attacking her right-hand side. Her springs gave her longer strides and allowed her to dance away when it seemed she may be overwhelmed, frustrating the opposition.

    Then the gunshot rang out.

    Talon swayed, stumbled back. A strange, garbled shriek tore from her throat when her back slammed into a wall. She clutched at her right shoulder, eyes wide in shock and rage as they closed in. Dammit. The shriek cut off and turned to a growl, and she hunkered close to the ground, grinding her heels in. Her claws gleamed crimson, and a mad light danced in her eyes. An animal cornered.

    An animal soon to be unchained.

    She had left the rest of Balefore's team wounded and in no condition to fight, with at least one dead. But Balefore remained unscathed, having parried and dodged out of the way of her attacks while she was focusing on the others. Still his face bore a wicked smile.

    "Wouldn't it be easier to just let this all be over? We don't have to fight... You could join us in penance, serve the most holy and help us take back what is ours." Balefore said, as he slowly approached her. "There is no hope of salvation with the B3s, only the Red Hoods are blessed by god, and I, his prophet," he said, pouring all of his charm and charisma into his words, with the Siren backing it up. "Come join me, join me in my crusade to spread our gospel!" he finished, looking to the sky. "So, what do you say? Come with me, or die here?"

    Talons' heart pounded in her chest, and her eyes flicked about. But when she looked up at the rooftops, there wasn't even a passing shadow. Where was Max? Where were the others? They should have been here by now! She edged further away from Balefore as he neared, claws up in a defensive stance and a warning hiss rising in her throat. But his words had planted a seed.

    Come... come join...there is no need to fight... Talon shook her head rapidly, fighting off the Siren's effect, but her legs quaked, about to cave. Even with the adrenaline coursing through her blood, she felt her senses fading, her will bending.

    "Gale...Gale! I swore!" she rasped, her head moving from side to side mindlessly. Her claws rattled, and drops of red spattered the ground. "Swore to kill him... swore to end him..." Now she backed up further, huddled almost in a ball, instinct driving her away from the predator. But wasn't she supposed to be the predator? Wasn't she supposed to be the dangerous one? Talon screamed in confusion and clapped her hands to her head, staining her long brown locks red. Her whole body was wracked by tremors. But did she care? So long as she could kill Gale, did it matter what gang she was in?

    When she realized that the answer was no, what little defense that she had left collapsed. Her knees gave out, striking the pavement. Behind the mask, one eye stared sightlessly at the ground -the other spun uncontrollably. All she knew was the sight of the stranger in front of her. All she heard was his voice.

    The demon's wings drooped.

    "Take her," Balefore commanded to the remaining Hoods, and the two who could still stand bound her hands and feet, taking care to avoid her claws. Then, he sheathed his swords and grabbed hold of a nearby drain, quickly scaling up to the roof of a nearby building, there were still B3s here, and he would deal with them.

    Still he was smiling though, some people were so easy to break. "You'll have your revenge me dear," he called down to the girl. "I can see it." Then he turned and began searching for the rest of the B3s. His vision swimming as he ran, and a bright glow settling over everything he could see. It was radiant, and Balefore smiled in the light of success.
     
  18. BrandonrockstheAM
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    ***High School***

    Hannibal finished his notebook, extremely satisfied. Everything he would probably ever need to know about the abilities of Siren. He labeled it "Math Help Site Links" and sighed in relief. Then, a girl approached him.

    Quickly looking her over, he saw some things. She was average looking, with hair that could easily be brown or blonde depending on the light. She stood around 5'4, quite shorter than himself. Her face wasn't notable in the slightest. Her eyes sparkled as she came to his side and put an arm around his shoulder.

    "Did you know a 3B died?" She giggled, leaning closer to his face. He could smell her perfume. "Killed by some sort of chemical."

    "Yeah, I saw it in the paper. A dealer at this school, I think. Kind of ironic." Hannibal smiled at her. He held back on using any of the drug. Why would a random girl come up to him and tell him this? Did someone have a crush on him? Yes, probably, but they wouldn't open a conversation like this. No, this was probably a gang member. Which gang's member though...

    "You're good with chemicals, aren't you." Her tone changed immediately. Hannibal almost held back his smile as his suspicions grew to almost certainties. They've confirmed they know he was killed by a chemical, and they linked it to him. Could also be an undercover detective or cop.

    "How would you like to kill more 3Bs?" She asked. Hannibal smiled as a possibility he hadn't considered probably became proven. Someone wanted to recruit him... probably the Red Hoods.

    Hah. How ironic. The girl looked at him patiently as he thought carefully about his decisions. It took him 10 minutes to arrive at an answer.

    "Sign me up."
     
  19. Dagolas
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    Dagolas Banned

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    (Not sure how to get into the action, but here goes)

    Thomas overtook the car in front of him, his siren wailing into the night.

    "Gunshot heard in Peckham, gunshot heard in peckham. B3's spotted." echoed the voice on the radio.

    "Bloody fucking hell" he swore again, speeding through the streets. He made a sharp turn in a corner and his car seemed to glide in the air for a few seconds before crashing back onto the road and going off again.

    Around him, the streets were a blur. He swerved past the other cars in the street, causing chaos. They couldn't afford to let the bastards get away.

    After a few seconds, there he was, right on time.

    Thomas Swan got out of the car, and looked around. The alleyway was empty but a glistening puddle of liquid in one of the alleyways. Chemicals?

    He walked warily to it, gun raised. And then stopped.
    A small pool of blood had spattered onto the floor and walls.

    "Too bloody late." said Thomas, kicking a can in anger.
    "Always too bloody late. Buggers got away."

    He paused to get his bearings and smoked on his electronic cigarette. He could try and find them again, but they were probably long gone... Or were they?
     
  20. Love to Write
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    Love to Write I'm a lover of writing. What else is to be said? Contributor

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    "Fay. Fay!" Brownie shook Fay's shoulders trying to get her to wake up. She'd never made it to bed but instead had fallen asleep at the workbench sometime after he had gone to bed.
    Fay's eyes blinked open and she glared at Brownie for waking her up. "What..." She grumbled.
    "I made you some food. It's going to get cold."
    Fay sat up, stretched and ran a hand through her short choppy hair, then she touched a screen on the workbench to check the time. 9:30... "Ugh," She grumbled again. "Can't believe I slept so late."
    "Well, you were up till long past 3am." Brownie replied, pushing a warm plate of toast and eggs in front of her.
    Fay immediately began eating without so much as a thank you and looked over the EMP's device she was constructing. It nearly a fourth of the way finished. At this rate she'd have it done in a day or two. She should've been proud of herself...but she couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something terrible was going to come out of this.

    Brownie seemed to sense her unease and gave her a questioning look, "What's wrong? Did you have a bad dream or something."
    "No...no nothing like that. It's just..." She sighed, not sure how to explain her feeling without saying anything openly negative about Jacob. To do so would be like asking to get killed or worse.
    "Never mind." She finally said. "I think I'm just tired. I'll rest after I finish the trigger mechanism on this thing."
    "Can I help!?" Brownie asked, his face alight with excitement.
    "You can help by cleaning my bunk." Fay said seriously.
    "Then will you let me help you in here. I've been watching you. I'm sure I could help!"
    Fay grumbled and took a bite of toast. "I'll think about it."
     
  21. Pheonix
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    Pheonix A Singer of Space Operas and The Fourth Mod of RP Staff Contributor

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    Balefore vaulted over the ledge of the building, landing nimbly on his feet. Scanning his surroundings, at first he saw no one, but then, he saw several figures on a nearby building top. Grinning, he judged the distance between the two buildings, then taking a running start, he hurled himself across the gap, street flitting below him, and landed rolling on the other side.
    In a flash he was up, and had sent his dagger flying at the nearest moving shape he could see. Max was up as the dagger took out the person next to him. He took out his pump, inhaling a doe of troll and moving forwards. There were too many Red hoods for him to take out, especially with Talon gone. As the drug took effect he kicked the man who had thrown the dagger sending him back towards the edge of the roof. Max didn't wait to see what happened to him. Grabbing his comrade he lept from the roof.

    "Retreat." He called as he made off into the night.

    Balefore gasped at the sudden impact. He crashed hard into an aluminum duct pipe, caving in the metal. But it kept him from sailing off into the open air. His head swum for a moment, as he staggered to his feet and sheathed his sword.

    "Damn," he hissed as his quarry made their escape. "Damn damn damn!" he shouted and stamped his foot, flailing about for a moment and finally kicking the already destroyed duct repeatedly until his foot hurt. Then he saw the prone shape with is dagger sticking out of its chest on the other side of the roof, and his eyes lit up. At least he had gotten one of them, he thought as he retrieved his knife and wiped off the blood.

    And he had captured that girl, and defended their territory from the idiot 3Bs. It had not been an entirely fruitless evening.

    He was about to climb down the building when he heard the car and peered over the side of the roof.

    "Damn," he hissed again. There was a cop car in the street below, must have been attracted by the gunshots. Bale pulled up his hood and went to the opposite side of the building and started down the fire escape. If he were fortunate, the cop wouldn't see him. He had no interest in dealing with a pig tonight.
     
  22. Dagolas
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    Dagolas Banned

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    Thomas saw a hooded figure clambering down a ladder. Haha! Bingo. He was nearly grinning with glee.
    He fire a round, which ricochéd off the wall.
    "That was a warning, scum. Next one's aimed at your head," he could barely hide the tremble in his voice. This was the first bit of action. Oh, sure, he had driven around and solved domestic problems, but this was the first bit of real action.
     
  23. BrandonrockstheAM
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    BrandonrockstheAM Active Member

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    Hannibal Norrus

    ***Hannibal's House***

    Hannibal lifted his backpack onto his shoulders, with the mask and the chemical safely put away in it. With this he'd be able to prove that he'd been the one to kill Justin, a 3B member. He knew they suspected him; else they wouldn't have come to him. However, he'd purposefully made sure he hadn't left any serious evidence. He figured with these two pieces, they'd figure that Hannibal was the only one who could've done it.

    "Where are you going, dear?" His mother asked as he walked down the stairs.

    "Oh, sorry. I usually plan these things ahead of time and tell you about it earlier. I'm going to a friend's house, and I was thinking of having a sleepover. I think you'll find that perfectly reasonable." He released a little spray of the pheromone that Siren gave him. His mother thought for a second, then nodded.

    "Just be back by tomorrow at lunchtime, alright?"

    "I'll try my best, Mom. Love you."

    "Bye, Hans."

    ***

    Hannibal could usually smell the trash and drugs that littered the alleyways of London these days. Not here though. The Woodpecker Estate, the well-known Red Hood hideout, was clean and royal. A few sentries were posted, who were giving him the eye, as if saying "Go away, schoolboy." He saw the girl, dressed as she was before, standing right at the staircase leading to the front doors. Smiling, he walked towards her. He lifted his hand in greeting.

    "I'm guessing we go in now?" He asked.
     
  24. Pheonix
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    Pheonix A Singer of Space Operas and The Fourth Mod of RP Staff Contributor

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    Balefore ducked as the gunshot ricocheted above his head. That damn cop, defying providence.

    "And this is your only warning, pig! Leave me go or I will cut you into a spiral ham!" Balefore spat.

    He surveyed his surroundings, he wasn't too high off the ground, and there was a dumpster nearby he could duck behind to be out of the cops line of fire. Without a seconds delay, he jumped from the fire escape and came to a rolling landing behind the dumpster. Unfortunately, there was no easy exit.

    Thomas unloaded a few rounds into the bin. "Get out of there, coward!

    Bale pulled another knife from under his jacket and threw it around the corner at where the voice was coming from. He couldn't risk giving him a target, so he didn't think it would hit. Idiot police always complicating things.

    Thomas felt a sharp pain in his leg and let out a snarl as he collapsed to his knees. He tried to pull out the knife, but it only hurt more and soiled his trousers with more blood. "Damn..." he muttered, trying to get back to his feet and failing.

    Providence struck again. Balefore had no other explanation for his knife finding a target. He quickly darted around the corner and approached the cop, kicking away his pistol.

    "Let this be a lesson to you, I am the prophet of London, and god is on my side!" he said, then quickly retreated down the street to regroup with his people and he return the Grama with his prize.
     
  25. Fan7asticMrFox
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    Fan7asticMrFox Contributing Member Contributor

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    James Harmon

    “You gonna eat that?” Phil asked pointing at the last remaining chip. Staring off into the darkness of the pub, James surrendered to the rookie’s demands without much more than a wave of the hand. The speed at which the chip disappeared was remarkable and James was left to ponder whether his partner had actually taken it, or if it had vanished into thin air. He may have been a detective, but this mystery bordered on unsolvable and in his resignation he took a sip of his pint.

    The sweat nectar tingled down his throat but it couldn’t quell the unease that rotted in his stomach. All he could think about was the Tech Shop. Twitchy’s Tech Shop. His mind swam with a thousand thoughts, all at a thousand miles per hour. Why were the G Brothers so desperate for hardware? They were ramping up their activities at an alarming rate; tagging, pickpocketing and small time hustles seemed to stop overnight, only to be replaced by planned hits, drug trafficking and ransoms. The next job always was better equipped – Christ, some of them even had pistols this time. But what troubled James the most – more than the crime and the weapons and the drugs – was the members. The G Brothers were hiring smart. Intelligent minds in line to run a shitty little gang. Now that was dangerous.

    “Something on your mind?” Phil asked.

    “It’s just the G Brothers. I can’t figure them out,” James said scratching his stubble, “They’ve hardly involved themselves in a gang battle of late and they’re just letting the 3Bs and the Red Hoods swallow up their turf without so much as a whimper. Instead it’s the economy plays they are going for: the drugs, the money laundering, the kidnappings… and now these hardware pulls.”

    “Wait… Twitchy’s wasn’t the first?”

    “No.” James sighed with disappointment. “The last three months they’ve hit research labs, university institutions and black markets trying to grab hardware – no doubt that’s why they have that hacker Fay with them. And they’ve been doing it quick and quiet, in and out no fuss. It’s like organised crime. The only reason we caught them tonight was dumb luck.” He swigged back his pint and slammed the empty glass on the table. Just talking about it made him sick to his stomach. What the hell were they planning? And why the hell couldn’t he work it out?

    “What did they steal?” Phil said as James stood up from his stool. The detective seemed to ignore him, lost in inside his own mind. “James?”

    “Hmmph?”

    “What did the G Brothers steal? From the other places I mean.” Phil asked once more.

    “Oh right… a few Titan cores, a water coolant system and a couple of MX-D processors. Well that’s what they told me anyone.”

    “Hey, you could make a self-sustaining electrical based power unit with that.” Phil said while working out the math on his fingers. James’ jaw dropped and he just stared at Phil dumb struck, forcing the junior to show an embarrassed smile. “I studied Electrical Engineering at college. But I wanted to join the force so I stopped once I graduated.”

    James could scarcely believe it. Electrical Engineering. The detective had to scratch the back of his head, somewhat confused as to the possibility that this kid could actually be smarter than him. But in a flash his wounded pride was replaced by puzzle solving logic and he had just the question to ask his partner.

    “What else could someone make with those parts?”
     
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