Topic: RPG Dark City: A Super Humans' Tale

Tharus saw the man leave the building, and the wind changed, he took a breath. It was the prey, the scent confirmed what the feeling he had made him suspect. Quickly, he lept into the air pushing off the walls of the alley that was his hiding place, and soon found himself on the roof of  a building. He began to run along the rooftops, keeping a distance, but watching. He decided he would hunt his prey a little longer.

((More on the way *evil laugh*))

As Zach walked down the sidewalk, he felt a strange prickling, not at the back of the neck, like when one's being watched, but at the back of his mind, as if someone knew what he was thinking.  He kenw that was silly, but the feeling persisted, adn it was making him quite uncomfortable.  The more he walked away from the sensation, the worse it grew, until he found himself sprinting along the sidewalk.

"C'mon, get ahold of yourself.  There's nothing there; no one' following you.  No one who'd want to has seen you without your mask; you're safe."  Cale did his best to asure himself, and succeeded to an extent.  He managed to calm himself down slightly and continue his walk in relative peace, with the feeling of being hunted nagging at the back of his mind.  While still jumpy, at least he wasn't drawing stares from the crowds at the moment.  With an attempt at a relaxing sigh, Cale continued his walk.

Fara finished her shift exactly on time. There was no waiting around an extra minute. Time moved at a snails pace there to begin with. One  minute actually felt like five. She eased her self behind the wheel of her pride and joy, her wonderful new love, her black 1970 charger.
{ }
{ }

She spun it out of the parking lot and head for her hang out, the ever trusty Kragget Diner. It was a safe place, but just not near the safe part of town. It would be night soon, and unless you knew what you were doing the city could be an unwelcome place. Good for Fara she knew she could take care of herself.

She sat at her usual table, in the back, facing the door and window, watching for Ghez to come. He strode in, confidant. She noticed how, for all his time spent in the front lines, he still looked good. He was a focused man, Fara found that easy to understand with out reading his mind. She didn't quite feel right about reading his mind all the time. Ghez had earned his privacy.

"So" he said as he sat down.

Amy said impatiently in the food court tapping her fingers rhythmically on the table top. The noise was such that a few fellow customers sent glares her way. Amy stopped blushing slightly but her attention was quickly diverted to the sharp figure of Carmen as she cut her way through the crowd, not at all bothered if she violently bumped into anyone.

Amy suddenly wondered if she’d done the right thing in contacting the reporter. Her thoughts were broken as Carmen pulled out a chair, it’s metal feet ground noisily on the floor. “So what do you know?” she asked coolly.

Letting out a sigh as she fiddled with the cover on her paper coffee cup Amy opened her mouth, “I went to work this evening. I was late and that may be the only reason why I’m still alive.”

Carmen raised a brow and waved her hand to indicate that she wanted Amy to continue.

“I walked in and it was strangely quiet. At first I thought nothing of it but then I realised everyone was dead. The kitchen staff was dead and when I looked out to the restaurant I saw bodies on the ground but they were covered in...” Amy paused to swallow, “they were covered in bugs.”

Carmen sat back in her chair, a sly smile crept across her face, “Bugs you say.”

“I’m not crazy,” Amy said a little more loudly then she meant to. A few people looked their way. But their attention was quickly diverted as the sound of an engine rumbled into earshot. It was quickly followed by screams.

Carmen stood, kicking the chair out in the general direction of the man riding the bike. He managed to dodge. Carmen grabbed Amy roughly by the arm, “Don’t puke on me.”

Amy opened her arm to ask what she meant but suddenly the pair were teleported to the ground floor directly in front of a lingerie shop. “How, how’d you do that?” Amy started.

“Shut up and following me, looks like you got spotted,” Carmen said simply.

Si: The Kragget? Nice.

The Reborn was content to wait until Reaper returned to his appartment, but he noticed another shape stir, following Reaper--interesting. So he wasn't the only one following Reaper. Perhaps the girl Reaper had abducted had friends? It payed to check out. Reaper was no good to him dead, and he might very well be that, he had appeared to leave without any weapons.

The Reborn set out in pursuit of both Reaper and his mysterious tail.

After almost an hour of shootin' the bull with his war buddies, Gez wheeled his cart of weapons to the trunk of his Cuda and unloaded them. He had upwards of two hundred thousand dollars worth of ordinance in that case. He closed and locked the trunk, noticing Fara's Charger was gone.

"Ah damnit... " Gez quickly started the Cuda and sped out of the base. Traffic was lite this time in the evening, so he didn't have to worry about keeping her waiting for too long. The night lights of the city were spectacular, it was when the tourists came out and did their shopping. After about ten minutes of driving, Gez pulled into the Kragget parking lot, again next to the Black Charger that could only by Fara's. He straightened the decoration bars on his Service Jacket before walking through the chrome doors to the 50's style diner. He got many friendly greetings from various cops and fellow Marines as he made his way to Fara's table in the corner.

Fara raised an eyebrow as Gez sat down. "So..." He said sliding into the booth. across the table from her.

"So?" She looked at him warily. "What's this 'Top Secret' Military Program you've been rambling on about?"
Gez pulled a datapad out of his coat, sliding across the table to her. "...Why is this significant?"

"Michael called me earlier and needed me to look up an organization. He was pretty sketchy on the details, but there was an attack on the 'Redeemers' makeshift base this morning. I can only guess this organization is involved."

"Really." Fara's eyes were instantly focused on the pad with such intensity, it could have caught fire. She laid the 'pad on the table, switching her gaze back to Gez, who looked like he was subtly planning on getting up and leaving. "And where do you think you're going?" Fara put her hand on Gez's forearm.

Gez didn't know what to do, he was sure he had some stupid confused look on his face, which would be embarrassing. "I...eh-"

"You're staying right here, Mr. 'Nine-Hundred-and-Forty-Seven-Kill-Streak'." She looked so serious it was almost disturbing.

There was a slight pause before the two sort of busted out in a quiet laugh. "I have to say I wasn't expecting that..you've been looking at my file haven't you...heh..." Gez wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

"Maybe...but who doesn't know that?" Fara smiled picking up the menu. "How about some late dinner...?"

"Ah...yeah, I could go for some Canadian style pancakes."

((LOL))

Midnight, Mission City.

The lumbering man clad in trenchcoat and fedora trudged through the dark alleys and streets comprising the Old Town sector of Mission City. Just a little farther....

The train station was the nearest escape posibility, only a block away at this point. But the gunshot wounds were hindering his speed and the Feds were drawing ever nearer. The man reached down to feel the wound on his leg. He brought his hand up and it was covered in...glowing green coolant. Good. Not blood. Blood would mean the bullet went through some organic part of his body that couldn't be repaired.

Now for the chest wound. The man slammed up against a wall to brace himself and it cracked and nearly collapsed inward. He reached up to feel it, but coughed into his hand instead and sounded like, well, a robot coughing. He wasn't getting used to that. He checked his hand, revealing...more glowing green coolant. Good. He can repair himself while on the train. He pushes himself off the wall and it finally collapses in, no worries. He turned the corner into an alley and out of the light of a streetlamp. He could see the train station.

He lumbered a little faster now, almost there... Three Federal agents slinked into view, between him and the station. No problem. They would learn however, and next time they would send combat units, not cocky bastards toting 9mm's or revolvers. For the moment the man was in the shadow and partially concealed behind a dumpster, the agents couldnt immediatly see him. They cautiously walked into the alley to check it, not thinking he was there. He had the jump on THEM this time however...

The closest one passed the dumpster and never knew what killed him. The man threw a punch that pulverized the agents skull instantly, spraying blood, bone, and brain matter onto the second agents face. He began to have a nervous breakdown because of the horror and was about to scream, but leaned over to vomit instead. The man moved to the third man who wisely had his gun out already, but that didn't really matter. The man moved with speed uncharacteristic of someone, or something, so heavy. He extended his hand and drove it into the mans chest, grabbing hold of his hard and oblitherating it. The force of rapidly exported blood caused the agents eyes to explode in a very bloody manner. He died almost instantly.

The man then turned to the last agent who was just finishing his vomit session. He was bent over in a corner trying to regain composure and not drop his gun. The man came up behind him and thrust his hand into the agents back and with a horrifying crunching sound ripped out his spinal cord. The agent collapsed and the man crushed his skull underfoot like it was a dry leaf.

The man turned to walk toward the station once more, but then considered his bloody metal hands. He pulled out some gloves from a pocket and covered them, then lowered his fedora to conceal his glowing eyes. He made it to the station and it was mostly empty, very late anyways. He went to the first train the stopped. It read "Norton Peak" as its destination. The man accepted it and snuck on, not bothering to buy a ticket since he had no money. He picked a cabin, walked in and took off his trenchcoat to begin repairing his two gunshot wounds. The train eased out the station, and he left Mission City behind for this...Norton Peak.

Character Sheet:

Name: Unknown
Nickname: None at the moment
Affiliation: none
Powers: Cyborg. Robocop-esque. There are many things concealed within the metal body that the man has yet to know of or be able to control.
Appearance: http://media.strategywiki.org/images/b/b0/SF3_Q.gif
Background: The man, or thing, woke up at a test facility where he was made. It was low security, and he guessed that he was a failure and left to rot in a containment cell because whoever creaed him didnt expect him to actually work. For some strange reason, he activated on his own and freed himself, making his way to the nearest city, Mission City. There were no symbols or identifyable logos at the facility that the man recognized to let him know who did this to him. His memory before the transformation has been erased. For now, he's simply trying to avoid what he thinks are federal agents who are trying to kill him. Eventually, he will desire to solve his own mystery.

Screams.  They were one of the few things that could be heard in the mall, other than the mob of people running for cover or hiding in fear.  This didn't bother Bloodhawk.  Thonly thing on his mind was to save the girl so he could find out what happened at the Poulet.  Just before he could though, he heard a voice above the pandomoneom ,"Hey you!  Buddy!  Would you mind taking your joy ride outside?"  He turned around to see who said that.  It was some dude, wearing normal clothing, and didn't seem to fear.  Whatever, he can't do anything.  Cale thought as he looked back to his target... wait, where was his target?  He looked around, and couldn't see her anywhere.  *D@#N IT!* he growled.  She must've been a mutie.  Or the kid behind him teleported her.  Or the reporter was.  Or maybe they were all linked somehow.  *Well, now I can deal with the punk behind me without worrying about something for now...* he thought as he jumped off the bike.  He slowly began to stalk towards the man, making a sickening sound as he cracked his knuckles.  "Listen punk, I don't know how or why she just disappeared, but since you were the one who distracted me, you've put me in a very foul mood.  Get ready to dance."  Bloodhawk stated ((with his awesome batmanlike sound)), throwing a shuriken at the man.

Michael tried to get out of the way as he threw the shuriken but he didn't move fast enough.  He grunted as the metal piece embedded in his arm.  Clenching his teeth he pulled the mtal object out. 

"Listen buddy.  I don't know where you get off throwing these things around.  But that's not something I want to see in a city mall.  I'm giving you one more chance to get out of here before I get mad."

Paying no heed to the warning the man cocked his arm back to throw another.  Michael was ready this time.  Using the metal of the shuriken he assumed the metal as his skin.  This shuriken harmlessly bounced off.  Michael cleaned off the blood ignoring the cut in the metal. 

"Fine then.  Don't listen to what I say.  But I'm getting you out of here even if it is in pieces."  Michael grabbed a chair and hurled it at the man who dodged it only to be met by a slab of steel.  The man rolled onto his back and used his momentum to get the massive man off of him.  Michael smiled and came at him again.

It was a rainy night, and a only a memory of the water hitting Morana's face. Her Prey walked in front of her. This hunt was to be a fast kill. This particular prey, was drunk, and that only made him easier to read. Oh yes. He deserved his death. But not the speed and which Morana was practicing. He actually ambled up to her, the smell alcohol preceding him. Morana was repulsed. How could this man actually be smart enough to call himself a Doctor? Butcher was more like it.

"Hay baby? How about it tonigh?" He slurred it. " I haves 50 bucks that says you're mine"

She grabbed is neck with one arm, and his eyes grew wide with fear.

"I can not be bought, slime." And with that she killed every nerve in his brain. A long moment passed, and she let go, letting the body hit the  ground.

She fell back, into a brick wall, just to support herself. Yes fast was effective, but regrettably, wore her out. And with that Morana fell back into the darkness of the rainy night.

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

Fara enjoyed her dinner. Ghez was always an interesting character. She liked this change of pace, of talking to learn a person, rather than always just reading ones mind. Ghez had something those others didnt have either and appeared to be able to tell if she was starting to read him.

"Well I must be heading on out." He said, standing. He tossed his money on the table. "A soldier's work is never done."

Something was up. Fara knew him better, and she knew it had to do something with that new attack and data.

Fara was out the door as fast as she could. Her charger growled to life as she tried to get a safe tail on him.

Carmen didn’t really know if she needed to take the girl with her but it was pretty obvious that Mr Haze was in town and very much up to something. Carmen vaguely remembered Amy. She’d done work experience as a student or something when Carmen was still getting paid to be a reporter.

“Do you recognise any of the bodies covered in bugs?” Carmen asked as she grabbed Amy by the arm and proceeded in dragging her along through the tiled aisle.

Amy was panting to keep up, “They were fully covered, plus I didn’t look too closely.”

Carmen snorted, “Shame I would like to know who deserved to die that way.” She suddenly skidded to a halt as she noticed another distinct bug on the floor nearby, “Did the bug look like that?”

Amy raised her hand to her mouth, “Yes, that’s it. We need to get out of here now!”

Amazingly Amy’s move to run actually had Carmen being towed behind the young woman. “It’s only one.”

“I don’t care, where there’s one there’s probably going to be more,” Amy replied as she continued to run.

Arthur Stone stared at the computer screen.  Carmen.  Her face had looked so familiar.  And it didn't bring happy go lucky feelings back either. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Stone awkwardly typed out what he was looking for.  He never really was good with computers.  Stone got up and made his way over to the medbay.  Shaylee was sitting with her legs propped up.  Her bandages were a bit damp with blood but nothing too bad. 

"Hey Shaylee.  How are you doing?  You feel alright?"

"I'm fine.  Just bored out of my mind.  I need a computer to get on."

Arthur smiled.  "I may just have the job for you.  Come on."  Arthur moved to her and scooped her up.  He made his way to the Redeemer's single computer and set her down.

"I need info on Carmen.  Anything.  My gut feelings are rarely wrong."

Shaylee cracked her fingers and began typing away.  Within seconds she perked up.

"According to this one site, our Carmen was a reporter.  See?  Her pictures right there."

Arthur studied it. Hair was a bit different, but it was definetly her.

"Can you get anything else?"

"Leave me to this for about an hour and I'll have all you need."  Arthur nodded and set off to do his other duties.

The thought of bugs being in the mall made a chill run icily through Amy’s body. She’d seen what those bugs could do to a person and she didn’t plan to stick around for them to eat her. Her fingers were digging into Carmen’s arm and it was only when the older woman growled did Amy realise.

Amy darted through the crowd that was still panicked, she managed to dodge a woman with a pram that seemed intent on using it to run over other shoppers while her baby was held safe in her arms. Carmen cursed as the woman ran into her. Amy gaped as Carmen picked up the pram and threw it at a shop window.

Unfortunately some of the other customers saw her action and started their own violent rampages. Looting quickly started as the screaming and panicking continued.

“What did you do that for?” Amy yelled above the noise.

“Diversion, now let’s get out of here,” Carmen said as she started dragging Amy towards the nearest exit.

Name: Dallas Pettington
Nickname: Petty
Affiliation: Changes on a regular basis
Powers: Mild telepathy, flight and impervious to fast moving projectiles.
Appearance: [img]http://www.gameartisans.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=7533&d=1216830919[/img]
Background: Boy from the wrong side of the tracks. His first job was as a pick pocket but he was quickly caught and spent his first short stint in jail. Upon realise Dallas took on his first “real” job as a cashier at a discount warehouse.

Unfortunately he made friends with two of his dodgier colleges, Marcus: a shapeshifter and Alex who was able to turn invisible. The trio teamed up and started stealing credit cards, it was at this time that Dallas learnt of his ability to read others minds. He was able to “hear” people thinking their pin numbers when at an ATM.

Alex would then rob the person while Marcus would shapeshift into the victim and go and clean out their account. Then they all got too greedy. The day Marcus suggested robbing an elderly woman was the day that Dallas felt a twinge of his conscience.

Marcus and Alex quickly ditched him and reported him to the police. Again Dallas did some jail time. Upon this second release Dallas decided it was time to start afresh. He moved to Norton Peak in hope of cleansing his dirty soul.

-

Dallas stood back in shock as people started going nuts in Norton Mall. The fact that people were starting to loot the place brought back bitter memories to the petty thief, but in all honesty what could he do? If he tried to help it was more than likely that he’d be blamed for the crime taking place.

Instead he walked over and picked up the battered pram that had started all the fuss. He handed it back to the freaked out woman with the baby. She muttered a thank you then cleared out. Dallas decided it was probably best for him to do the same.

As he exited the building he noticed a limo parked outside the mall. Dallas raised a brow it wasn’t uncommon for a limo to occasionally pull up at Norton Mall, but not at this time of night. Dallas strode towards the limo and tapped on the driver’s window, it was only polite to warn the driver of the chaos going on inside the mall.

Gez walked out of this diner over to his Cuda, unlocking the trunk. He popped the airtight seal on large stainless steel case he had loaded into the car earlier, digging through the various gun-shaped plastic cases until he found the two he was looking for. Gez closed the case back and locked the trunk, he then sat down in the driver's seat opening the two pistol cases.

"Ah, beautiful." The first one he opened was a Color Case Blued .45 Long Colt  Ruger Vaquero.

"Next in line..." He popped open the larger case to find a Mark XVIV Desert Eagle Pistol, chambered in .50AE
with both six and ten inch barrels, along with a Leupold 8x Scope and mounts. It was finished in Black Oxide with custom Millett adjustable sights and 'Finger Groove' rubber grips.

"Just like dad's..." Gez pondered a moment before clamping the two cases closed and sticking them behind the seat, sliding the duffle bag with his gray fatigues and other various gear over top of them. He started up the Cuda and floored it out of the parking lot, for fun more or less. He called Michael, who failed to answer his phone. He did however find the location, 'Norton Mall Vicinity'. Gez could only guess Michael was trying to break up some of the trouble he'd seen on the news.

He suddenly slowed down and took a turn into an alleyway, a shortcut to the Mall parking lot. Gez was about halfway down it when he felt an odd sensation in the back of his mind, instinctively 'Focusing', as he called it. He probed his mind the best way he could, identifying the feeling as an unrecognizable emotion...no...a presence. The word Telepath came to mind. Gez slammed the brakes hard causing the car to skid to a stop in the icy asphalt. He suddenly filled his mind with random thoughts, hoping to confuse whoever it was digging in his thoughts. The sensation went away, vanishing entirely.

Gez pulled himself out of Focus, shaking his head slightly, looking at himself in the rear view mirror. His skin had paled slightly, and the veins around his forehead were more visible. He merely scoffed and drove the rest of the way down the alley, turning back onto a rarely used side road behind the mall. He pulled up to a red light that connected to the parking lot entrance to the road he was on. Sure enough, there were no cars anywhere in sight.

...Figures...

Gez didn't have much choice but to look around while he waited. The sidewalks weren't very crowded on this side,  he noticed. The larger hotels were more bunched around the eastern side of Norton Center, the area the tourists favored. Just as the light turned green, one thing caught his eye. A young man, several years younger than himself, he guessed. He was casually dressed, standing next to the traffic pole frantically pushing the button to the crosswalk. It wasn't a usual aggravated gesture, but it looked more out of fear.

Gez rolled down the window, leaning out. "You alright, son?" It was easy for him to slip into the caring-Sergeant personae these days, especially after the Middle-East.

At first, it didn't appear the man heard him. "Son?"

The stranger looked over his shoulder, then casually started walking over to the Sublime Green Cuda.
"Yeah?" He looked either confused, disturbed, or scared...maybe all three.

"You look lost, son. Need a ride somewhere?" The stranger appeared to look over Gez's service jacket, noticing the numerous decorative bars, medals, and pins. He appeared to find some sort of comfort in Gez's obvious Military affiliation.

"Yeah, yeah I do. Anywhere but here." The guy got in, sitting down comfortably in the passenger's seat.

"Alright then." Gez gassed the pedal, speeding down the road. "What's eating at you? You look nervous."

"Nervous...? Me...? No..."

"I've seen nervous, trust me, I know..." Gez looked over to the kid and held out his hand to shake.
"Barrett, Sergeant James Barrett. United States Marine Corps."

((Let me know if I need to edit, MA.))

Short post prior to school, sorry.

The Reborn continued to follow Reaper. Before long, a man in military dress pulled over near him, and asked if Reaper wanted a ride. They didn't seem to know each other, but Reaper got in anyways. The Reborn knew he could never keep up with a car, so he could either kill the power to the car, or try to find Reaper somwhere else.

The Reborn watched the car drive away, then disappeared into the night

"Name's Zach.  Zach Cale.  Thanks for coming along, Sergeant Barrett."  Cale shook the profferred hand.  He breathed a mental sigh of relief.  With this soldier's help, he'd be able to put some good distance between him and whoever was following him.  In fact, already his frayed nerves were calming down.

"So, Cale, right?  What was that all about?  You looked pretty nervous, I'd almost say terrified."

"I'm fine, really.  It's just one of those things, you know, when you feel like someone's walked over your grave?  Random chills, bouts of fear, sensation of being hunted...the usual."  Zach cursed himself mentally; the hunted bit hadn't been supposed to come out.

Mr. Haze's scout bugs were all over the mall, looking with increased franticism after Carmen teleported away, causing them to lose the target. Eventually, one bug noticed the pair of girls near a lingerie store. Unofortunately Carmen's diversion had created a mass riot, making following them near-impossible.

Leave the mall! He commanded his bugs. They're clearly leaving! Cover all the exits!

Suddenly, there was a tapping on the limousine's window.

"Um, sir..." Hogan the driver piped up.

"Hnn..." Mr.Haze slowly stirred from his trance. "What is it, Hogan?"

"There's someone tapping on the glass, I--"

"Shoo them away! Now!"

"Yes sir." Hogan shut off all the lights to the back of the limo, as was protocol, and rolled down his window and looked at the headband wearing ruffian who was tapping the window.

"Can I help you sir?"

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

Meanwhile, at Redeemers HQ, Burst Limit was minding his own business, apparently mourning the death of High Voltage with his "teammates", until he came upon the medbay to visit Shaylee who was healing up healing up very well. She was talking with Stone. He scooped her up and together they left the medbay.

"Scuse me, Burst." Stone said offhandedly as he exited, avoiding a collision.

What's that all about? Burst Limit wondered. He decided following them, at a reasonable distance away, was in order.

A mutie.  Why did they always have to be muties??? Why couldn't he fight a teddy bear?  A pink teddy bear that gave out hugs instead of trying to kill him?  Ah well...  I guess a mutie who could absorb the physical attributes of his surroundings would have to do.  Bloodhawk had to find a way to get through his metal hide.  He barely managed to dodge the metal man by a hair.  He quickly jumped back a few paces to give himself more time to think.  Cale looked around looking for an advantage.  He saw a fire extinguisher in the corner of the room.  It might not do much, but the pressure would probably slow him down.  He hurdled towards the glass container, smashing it with a quick jab.  The mutie was coming at him again, he had to work fast.  Like mili-second fast.  Bloodhawk ripped the extinguisher out of the container, turning around letting loose with tha foam!

Gez felt bad for the kid, but what could possibly terrify someone like that? Sure he'd seen some pretty disturbing stuff, but nothing ever bothered him like that. Although, Gez didn't know what he'd do without his Scout Sniper Training, or even Basic Training.

"The usual, eh? What line of work are you in?"

"Um, I kinda do odd jobs, y'know, this and that..." Cale hesitated for a second.

Cale got real quiet, Gez figured he should change the subject.  "Ever used firearms before?" Gez thumbed the 1911 Custom resting comfortably in the console holster next to the shifter.

"I've never put much trust in guns. People should be able to be perfectly fine using what they're given naturally."

"Understandable. I can't count how many times CQC and good, well balanced combat knife has saved me. But I prefer neutralizing targets from afar, if you get my meaning."

"Marksman, then?  What're you doing this far from the action, then?"

"My tour ended three months ago."

"So you're kinda on vacation then?  Norton Peak wouldn't have been MY first choice to get away from it all."

"I inherited an an estate here from my father, it really is a great place once you get to know it..."
Gez cut the wheel, drifting the Cuda around the corner up the Mall parking garage ramp. He parked on the third floor, reserved for classic, luxury, and exotic automobiles.

Gez unholstered the 1911, checking the magazine. "Going or staying?"

Yeah, like Zach was going to sit down here and wait for whatever was following him to catch up.  The best thing to do was to keep on the move.  Besides, without his mask and gauntets, he didn't want to go around practically shouting that he was a metahuman by using his powers.  So mabe it wa best to stick with the Sergeant.  Besides, having a Marine with you was bound to be useful.

"I'll come along.  That's alright with you?"

"Yeah, sure."

"So. Any particular reason for carrying a loaded gun while walking into a shopping mall?"

"You can never be too careful."

"Fair enough."

So the two left the vehicle, Barrett locking and securing the Cuda before leading the way into the shopping mall.  At first glance, it mostly seemed normal.  But upon seeing the distinct lack of active shoppers, and a distinctly large amount of "fleeing in terror and panick"-ers, Cale assumed that something was up.  He grabbed hold of a passing middle-aged man

"What's going on?"

"I dunno, some weirdo on a motorcycle crashed through the front, and started running through the stores, attacking random people.  I still say it's a terrorist attack.  Not even the malls are safe these days!"

Cale shook his head, and let the man flee with the rest of the panicking crowd.  By now, Sergeant Barrett had his pistol in hand, and was busy assuring the jumpy and terrified citizens that he was a United States Marine, and yes, he was perfectly capable of dealing with this situation.  The fact that they freaked out when they saw the gun, but yet did not clue into the service uniform until directly informed also was slightly amusing.  Zach Cale grinned to himself; he knew that having a Marine around was bound to come in handy. 

The now anxious to help citizens also provided Barrett and Cale with the direction that the "terrorist" was to be found. Newcomers also stated that he was currently 'fighting a metal man'.  Cale found this part to be particularly interesting, given his line of work.  With this new bit on information, Cale even doubted the accuracy of the terrorist claim.  More likely it was a brawl between two metas that spilled out into the nearest place; the mall. 

So Cale turned, and began walking in the direction specified by the mob, temporarily forgetting that he was supposed to be a normal human for the time being.  However, he did have the presence of mind to stay both solid and visible for now.  The cause of this chaos would very interesting to watch...

The other super had managed to get a hold of a fire extinguisher.  Michael coughed as he was blinded by the white foam.  Out of the blue Michael was delivered a kick to the temple.  He had the mind to grabbed the foot for a second throwing his attacker off his feet.  The super fell to the ground but Michael couldn't quite find him.  A punch came striking Michael on the chin.  A cry of pain came from in front of him.  Michael blindly rushed forward and grabbed the man as soon as he crashed into him.  Michael managed to get out of the haze and into the food court. 

Michael grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against the wall.  "Now.  You take your bike and you get out of here.  I don't want to see you trying to hurt these people again."

"I-grrrk- wasn't trying to hurt-gahk-them.  Just going after a target."

"Oh really?  Who was your target now?"

"I dunno.  She was taken away with that other mutant."

"Carmen.  Well we're going to find them and have a little talk with them.  Let's go."  Michael dropped the man to the ground and led him out.

"So what's your name?"

"Bloodhawk."

"I'm Michael Shaw.  Not much for the super name.  But it's Mimik."

As Bloodhawk went to get his cycle Michael saw a familiar sight coming through the wreckage. 

"Gez!  Long time no see buddy!"

((hehe, bad move sev))

Bloodhawk was pissed.  He wanted to kill this guy, even if he was trying to help him.  Luckily, Cale didn't play by the rules. Unlucky for "Mimik".  But now he had a buddy.  This was going to be tricky....  and more than likely this "Gez" was a mutie, because they always travelled in packs.  As Bloodhawk went back to grab his bike, he was paying very close attention to Michael.  *I could always use the haitian dart if he gets out of hand..... but i only have one.... hmm...*  Austin thought, picking up the cycle.  The two buddies were making small talk now, and Mike was paying no attention to Bloodhawk.  Cale smiled, propping the bike up against a food court table.   He walked closer towards Michael, pulling out a dart and pricking him rather quickly.  His metal body faded to flesh.  As Michael looked at his body in confusion,Bloodhawk picked up a chair, hefting it slightly, and smashing it against mike's head.  The mutie crumpled to the floor, groaning in pain. Bloodhawk held the dart a few milimetres away from Mimik's neck.  "Do you know what this is?  This dart is coated in the blood of a.....certain mutie, like you, except different.  If you make the wrong move, I'm gonna drive this into your throat, and trust me, you won't be able to absorb THIS material.  The blood will negate all effects of your abilities, and I'm just going to assume that you trust me, as you aren't metal anymore.  And by the way, these darts are very hard to come by.  very.  So, are we gonna do this my way, or would you rather be pushing up daisies?"  Cale snarled.  He had the feeling that Michael's buddy already had his gun out and aiming at the weakest point of his body armour.  "And you, Gez, probably want your friend intact correct?  How about you tell him what to do."

Gez was almost laughing at how funny Mike's complexion looked made of hardened steel.

"Going for the carbonite look, eh?" Gez slapped Mimik on the shoulder, who then proceeded to imitate Han Solo's frozen pose. "Haha! You could make money on that one, you know it?"

"Yeah, I suppose I could. You think it's that great?" Mike raised a brow curiously.

"Sure, the boys down at the Kragget would get a kick-" Gez was cut short as he watched as Bloodhawk pulled a quick, unexpected One-Two blow to Michael, the metal faded away, revealing his normal skin. He had a brief, puzzled look on his face before a chair collided with the side of his head. Gez instinctively Focused, unsheathing a hidden three-sided knife and leveling his 1911 on Bloodhawk in one blinding CQC motion. For now, he was going to listen to what the man said.

"Do you know what this is?  This dart is coated in the blood of a.....certain mutie, like you, except different.  If you make the wrong move, I'm gonna drive this into your throat, and trust me, you won't be able to absorb THIS material.  The blood will negate all effects of your abilities, and I'm just going to assume that you trust me, as you aren't metal anymore.  And by the way, these darts are very hard to come by.  very.  So, are we gonna do this my way, or would you rather be pushing up daisies?"  Cale snarled.  "And you, Gez, probably want your friend intact correct?  How about you tell him what to do."

"I could, but he doesn't take orders very well." Gez took a step to the side slowly, keeping the 1911 Custom trained evenly on Bloodhawk. "Then again I could try, but he'd most likely reply with a smart remark."

"So let's review.  You stab me, I lose my mutant powers. Woohoo. But in turn, you die. So, mind letting me up buddy?"

Bloodhawk audibly snarled. "What makes you think I'm afraid of soldier boy here?"

"Marine Scout Sniper." Gez shot back in a very irritated tone, taking a small step closer.

"Fine, whatever." Bloodhawk's tone was a little less confident. "You still don't scare me-"

"Where would you like it? Shoulder joint, kneecap or ankle? There is always the face, and I'm willing to put the entire magazine there without hesitation."

Zach stood where he had entered, dumbfounded.  So 'Gez' knew Mimik, then.  In a way, Cale found this slightly ironic.  But then, there was a problem about the Bloodhawk character holding Mimik at....needle-point?  Who in turn had a gun pointed at him.  If it wasn't such a serious situation, Cale would've laughed at how much it reminded him of Pirates of the Caribbean.

"Now, c'mon guys.  As the only non-combatant here, I can honestly tell you that this situation looks ridiculous."  Cale gave a half-grin.  "I mean, can't we all just get along?" 

The others, almost in unison gave him an odd look.  Cale shrugged; okay, that wasn't the answer.  Maybe if he found out why the two metas were fighting, and what Bloodhawk's abilities were, he' be able to put an end to this chaos.  So Zach decided to stop talking, and continue watching.

Bloodhawk sighed.  This was gonna go nowhere fast.  "Ok, so obviously, if i move, i die, but your friend with me.  And since the girl is getting away, i suggest we work as a team to find her.  And don't ask me why, it'll slow us down."  Bloodhawk growled.  He sheathed the dart, standing up to face Gez.  "Well, chopchop, we haven't got much more time." He smirked awkwardly as he shoved past the "marine scout sniper", and retrieving his bike.

The target was close. The assassination had been planed perfectly, drilled into Nicole’s mind so she could take the target down blindfolded. The plan was infallible, her target would die, and she would escape. Unfortunately, everything had fallen apart when Mr. Johnson  decided to tack on another body guard, and move his office suddenly. Which meant a nice, long distance kill from across the street was out the window, much like Mr. Johnson would be if it all worked out. Which is why she found herself under a desk with a small needle, ready to inject a fast acting neurotoxin would paralyze the esteemed Mr. Johnson before she kicked him out the window and he fell thirty five stories into the street probably to be ran over by a semi or something before the cops got there.

She heard the door to the office open. She exhaled, waiting. Her legs tensed ready to kick her target out of the window once he was immobilized, and couldn’t scream. She checked the mission clock in her HUD. It seemed slow, but she knew it was right. She calmed herself as the footsteps neared, and dug for the coldness. The place her mind went when she was about to kill. She felt everything seem to go into perfect clarity. The target sat down, and probably preparing to log onto his computer so he could do something that he considered important, but in reality probably served no truly important purpose. She struck,  and the illusion of perfect calm was shattered. The needle went in and auto injected. There was a gasp, a slight spasm, and then Mr. Johnsons legs seemed to lose all contact to  the brain. She kicked, and launched him out the window, the glass broke and down he fell, silently. Nicole moved quickly, the grey black and red jumpsuit helped with this.

Light armor kept her agile, but protected her from gunshots, Kevlar from cuts, advanced HUD made sure nothing surprised her. And, in the event that she was killed or captured without hope of return, and due to the high level of the threat to the corporation Mr. Johnson posed, she had been wired with explosives.  Add that on top of the state of the art equipment, she was prepared for almost any situation. Like running from the security.

She burst through the door, stabbed a bodyguard in the throat and knocked another out. She then began her escape. She sprinted straight ahead putting a few shots into the far window with her pistol there was an almost waist high bar cutting the window into two section, she holstered her pistol and pulled a hook on a line that was stored in her belt. She slid, slipping under the bar and hooking the clip to it in one quick movement, the line auto fed, lowering her ten  stories then slowing her to a halt. She busted into another floor. It was late, even the cleaning man had left, but the late Mr. Johnson had been here in Tokyo on business and he still hadn’t adjusted to the clock. Not that he ever would now of course. But the man had earned it.

She knew there were guards, and she knew that someone heard the pistol shots, and someone already found the bodies and someone had the security locking down. She didn’t need the voice in her ear to tell her that. But she did need it to tell her where to go what to do next, The voice belonged to Nathan Armstrong, he was her handler, and as a result he was responsible for telling her what she would expect. For example. All the lower floors were heavily guarded, same with the roof. Only way out was somewhere in the middle. A door on her left. It burst open and security guards came through, to many for her to kill right now, she sprinted on, hoping she wasn’t going to be hit. She pulled a disc from her belt slammed it against a wall as she passed, spinning from the impact but letting her momentum carry her forward as she recovered from the spin. The disc beeped once, and turned white, the color of the walls. The guards began to pass it, after one had passed it beeped once more and exploded, killing all of them.

“I need an exit!” she said, her voice was stressed but only carried a hint of urgency. Nathan Armstrong sat in a room, the rest of the assassination team, five in all stood around him, watching Nicole’s progress through the building. The corporation was simply a front for this, a secret organization, dedicated to one thing. Its survival. The corporation was simply a front, a way to cover the truth. The assassination team only employed six assassins at a time, the rest of the staff worked in intelligence, digging up past on potential targets, deeming importance, finding new targets and the like, training, keeping the assassins fit, making sure they knew how to use equipment, and helping with other similar tasks, or were one of six handlers. Nicole was the youngest and newest of the team, this was her second assignment. Strange, giving such an inexperienced assassin a tier three target, but Nathan wasn’t about to question the boss. And at the moment, such things were the furthest from his mind. “Theres a crane, outside the window right across from you, two floors down, it’s a long jump but you can make it.”

Nicole thought it was a bad idea, but what else did she have, she wouldn’t be able to fight her way out. She sped up, sprinting as fast as she could. A guard stepped out of a stairwell behind her. He raised his pistol, aimed, and fired. The bullet hit Nicole in the back of the leg, behind the knee. The shot shattered her knee, and in most other cases it would have punched right out the other side. In this case however it ricocheted off the inside of her armor, bouncing up into her thigh and lodging there. Nicole fell forward, and the guards reinforcements arrived. They began to approach Nicole who was on the ground.

Nathan broke the stunned silence. “Oh god. She’s down.” The gathered assassins watched in horror. They had known Nicole for a year, she was good at what she did, and she was generally a happy person. Now she was about to be captured. One of the other five spoke up. “She’s gona talk…”

“No” Samuel, unit 283 said quickly.

“You have to blow the charges.” Unit 278, James said, with complete calmness in his voice.

Nathan knew what he had to do. James was right. He quickly typed the  security codes.  He hit enter. There was a loud beep, and the A/V feed for Nicole, unit 296 went black. The words “NO SIGNAL” floated on the screen. The figure showing suit integrity went from green, to red, then finally black. Nathan turned to regard the five before him. Units 283, 278, 279, 294, and 280 all stood watching, grey jumpsuits with the black eagle emblem on the shoulder. A small bar of color was on each of their chests, making them identifiable in armor.  He had gained much more respect for James, unit 278 today. He had proved that he knew what he had to do. He proved that his loyalty lied with the order, and nothing else. James had been Nicole’s mentor, he had taught her how to fight, how to kill. But he had been more then that. He was her brother.

--

“Alright Eric. Four minutes!” 

Eric Falke looked toward the cockpit and grinned. He always had loved things like this. Some people used drugs to get into the zone, he used one of his own. Adrenaline. In high school he had started snowboarding, he loved the thrill of rushing down the slope. After that, he advanced to rock climbing, that was fun for him too, the height was astounding. Rock climbing changed to dirt bikes and racing. He sucked but it was fun and that’s what he cared about. After that he did some bungee jumping. Soon after that he did some hang gliding And most recently, at the age of 19, the thrill heights had always given him had turned him to something else. Something that could very well be the death of him, but that was part of the thrill. Hang gliding had given way to skydiving.  Yes, Eric Falke was a self proclaimed adrenaline junkie and he was proud of it. And said junkie of hormones was about to leap out of an airplane and hope his chute worked. Of course, he thought, its better then a hot air balloon. After all, that’s a wicker basket held to a nylon bag by rope….propelled by fire… Yeah no way I’m doing that.

He stepped forward pulling his goggles down. The junkie was about to get his fix. A green light snapped on. He jumped, and suddenly he was falling, high above the earth, plunging to what could very well be his death….If he was unlucky. And he wasn’t. It didn’t last very long, almost before he knew it he pulled his cord and was floating down to earth. He landed hard, not as bad as he had before, but it wasn’t his best either.  As he gathered his chute he noticed something. There was a man, wearing a suit leaning on his car. No vehicle was in view. Almost as if this man had just appeared. He stepped forward. “Eric Falke?” he said, extending his hand.

“Yeah that’s me. What’s up?”

The man spoke again. “I come from a corporation, we have a sudden and dire need of another employee .”

Eric thought it was odd for a company to seek out employees but he could use some more cash, who couldn’t?
“What field? And why me?”

The man shifted uncomfortably. “You were the best of candidates for this type of work we could find. The field is the real issue, we can never tell if someone would take the offer. My..corporation… Deals in the removal of persons who could be deemed a threat to civilization” It was the truth, but only half of it, of course, they removed people who were threats to them, and occasionally society.

“What you mean like….the nuthouse or something?”

“No,” The man in the suit said, “ These people are not insane for the most part. And we remove them more permanently. You see,“ He said uneasily “we are…assassins.”

Eric laughed. “Your kidding, right? Assassins? Like in the movie? Next your going to tell me I can curve bullets or I’m ‘The One’ or something aren’t you?”

“No. I am serious. Come with me, find out.” 

Eric looked around uneasily, “Well. I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

“Wonderful, my vehicle is over there, behind the trees”

--

A few hours later Eric was signed up, he was on a private jet heading to somewhere he didn’t know, probably never heard of. When he got there he looked around. It was morning, but he had been flying for a while, probably eight hours, that meant Europe. The place was cold, mountainous, had some pine trees. He entered a door into a room which was more of a box, and the man in the suit, whose name was Stephen, entered a code inside.

The wall opened, and he was faced with two guards, heavily armed and armored, they nodded to the man in the suit, and they opened the door for him.  They stepped into a large elevator, with benches. “Sit down, it’s a long way down.” The floor of the elevator had a transparent part, and Eric found Stephen was very right. The ride took half an hour. At the bottom, more guards, and Stephen stepped through while Eric had to go through security. They scanned his hand, retina, and he passed trough an explosive trace sensor. He then found himself in a circular room. “Welcome Eric Falke.” A female voice said “Please remove all clothing and prepare for biological weapons scan.” He hesitated for a moment when Stephen’s voice came through the ceiling. “Just do it Eric, it’s a one time thing” He hesitated a moment more before doing it, he placed his clothes in the designated bin, and they were taken by a conveyor belt “Please close your eyes.” The female voice said again. Eric did so. There was a quick burst of heat and light. He opened his eyes and there was a jumpsuit in a box in front of him. “Put the jumpsuit on please” Eric did what she said again. The jumpsuit was grey, with a red bar on the chest. Once dressed a door opened on the far side of the room. He walked through.

--

That had been five years ago. Three long years of training, honing his body into a perfectly tuned machine, learning to kill with anything from an empty coca-cola can to one of the most advanced weapons on the planet. Learning to run and leap, learning to dodge and attack. Learning the arts of silence, the arts of death. Death became his name, and those who opposed him and his masters soon found themselves among those who had come before them. He got to know his team, 283, 278, 279, 294, and 280, Samuel, James, Samantha, Uwe, and Patricia, black green, blue, grey, and gold. Separately they were dangerous, together they were death itself. They became his family, and the boy who had been Eric Falke slowly changed into what he was now. An assassin, part of the family

He remembered all of this as he looked over the city from the bay of the UH-60 Stealth variant. Of course, it was basically just a Black Hawk, like the army had, but the army would never get their hands on the stealth technology it was carrying. It was just a prototype, only six in existence ,  and it was prone to bugs, and it was huge, making this chopper only have room for the pilots and Eric himself, but it got you from A to B unnoticed, and that was what was important.

Norton Peak. According to his briefing, the place was overun with mutants. Of course, it couldn’t have been as bad as that cess pool Mission City, the place was overrun with them. He remembered an assignment he was sent on there recently, Going after the head of a genetic research company. He almost got burned to a crisp by some big bipedal pyrokinetic lizard thing. He had made sure that was taken care of after he completed the assignment.

It wasn’t that he had an issue with mutants, not at all, he himself was one, it was just irritating when you put a few shots into someone and they just bounced off, or you went at their throat with a knife and it just went right though. He realized that genetic mutations were becoming more and more common around the world, and he had noticed that there were more cases of extreme mutation in America then anywhere else in the world. And America was also the most intolerant. That seemed to be a trend. For the land of the free America seemed to have a lot of intolerance. But what did it matter, the only important thing was that he was stepping into a war zone, but instead of religious fanatics or guerilla fighters trying to defend their homelands from those who they saw as invaders, he was stepping into a city filled with people who could walk through walls, throw fireballs, and get into your head and drive you insane. And these people were fighting just for the hell of it. It didn’t matter. He had his target, and his target would die.

Name:Eric Falke
Alias: None publicly known.
Designation: Unit 297
Affiliation: None
Powers: Increased agility, slightly increased strength. His movement is like that of a traceurs((think Mirrors Edge for those of you who have seen/played it http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Free_runner http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parkour))
Appearance:
Picture everything darker, gun and knife would be black. Armor plates would be black, jumpsuit a very dark grey, any red would be very dark, but still identifiably red.
Tall, thin but muscular, keeps his hair shaved, but  has a goatee, hair is a light reddish-orange color, sparkly green eyes
Weapons: Plenty of knifes, two HK USP Compact Tacticals, Two Taurus Raging Bulls (model 500) with laser sites And a large assault rifle.
Gadgets: lots of various gadgets, wall mines, wrist comp, grappling things on both wrists.
Optionaly voice distorter http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hfPVUmxlh1k (that sound) and intersuit com unit

(will add to character sheet later)

((wow))

((Yeah, Carson pretty much summed it up. WOW.))

Michael groggily got up to his feet.  Whomever that blood belonged was a special mutant.  He put that bit of information under the things he would have to check on later.  A mutant that could counteract any other mutants powers.  In the wrong hands that could be deadly. 

Michael clapped Gez on the shoulder.

"Thanks bud.  I owe you one.  Big time."

"Don't mention it."

"Hey Bloodhawk.  If you take that bike of yours through here there will be no smashing of stores.  Got it?"

Bloodhawk jumped onto his bike, putting it into first gear immediately.  The bike jumped to life, with nice transmission to add to the dramatics.  "Gez, you and Mike check around the mall.  I'll check outside.  If she teleported, she couldn't have gone far with a partner." Cale barked to the other two.  Not waiting for a response, he accelerated the bike, zooming through the food court back outside.

((Sorry for the short post, did a bit of a skim through the posts to catch up... will amend if it's wrong.))

Amy was glad to finally make it outside but she wasn’t sure if she was that pleased that she was still being dragged along by Carmen. A limo sat ominously at the curb and Amy noticed the way Carmen hid her face and pulled them in the opposite direction just as she saw it.

As they made their way around the corner Amy looked behind and saw a man approach the limo. “Someone you know?” Amy asked Carmen.

Carmen snorted, “No but I suspect I know who’s in the limo and they’re bad news.”

“How so?” Amy said as she tried to slow Carmen down.

“I believe your bug man may be in the limo,” Carmen said simply.

Cale couldn't believe the vigilante.  First he attacks an unregistered meta (which wasn't all bad), but he then turns around, sides with the same combatant, and orders them to search the mall, while he takes all the fun hunting down some fleeing people for some reason.  That, and there was something naggingly familiar about the figure.  Had Cale hunted him before?  Could be; a lot of metas had been able to slip through his organization's fingers, what with the full scope of their powers not being fully factored into any predictions and scenarios.  Maybe that was it.  If so, Cale would have to review records, so as to get a better understanding as to which powers he'd have to take precautionary measures against, if he was to have to face off against this vigilante.

Zach turned to Mimik, deciding that it would be best to introduce himself efore they went on the wild goose chase throughout the mall.

"Well, suppose I'd better introduce myself here.  I'm Zach.  Zach Cale.  Is there anything I can do to help?"  In times like this, Cale was glad of the way his mask distorted and altered his voice.

Michael snickered as Bloodhawk drove away.  Quite a showoff that one. And apparently not a mutie.  Quite skilled too.   

Gez's mysterious friend turned to Michael. 

"Well, suppose I'd better introduce myself here.  I'm Zach.  Zach Cale.  Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Well we might as well do what old high and mighty told us to do.  Nothing else better to do.  We're looking for a female mutant and her friend."

He shrugged.  "There is that one chick over there..."  He pointed over Gez and Michael's shoulder.  THey both sun.  Gez quickly relaxed.

"Nothing to get excited about.  Just Fara."

"Fara?"

"A friend.  Fara!  Over here!"

"Oooh a friend? Like a bow chicka wow wow friend?"  Michael had a sly smile on his face.

Gez snorted.  "You haven't changed since we were teenagers have you Michael?"

"Not a bit."  The grin grew even wider.

Fara in her effort of following Ghez she found her self in the chaos that had unfolded in the mall. She despised such pointlessness. But at least there was no long searching for what she needed. Ghez called her out.

“Fara! Over here!”

Ghez was talking to two other men.

“Ghez, what trouble have you managed to cause today? Does it ever end?” She smiled warmly at him. “What’s going on?”

(( Sorry its short... not sure what... so just let me know and I'll add or post again...))

"Ghez, what trouble have you managed to cause today? Does it ever end?" The woman's voice was coming though with some interference, but that was expected, the microphone mounted on his assault rifle tended to have that problem. He had been in this city for only two hours, and he already found a problem. It seemed that these mutants were having a fight. Or had been at least, they seemed friendly now. He had seen it all happen from up in this nice thick tree, and he was concealed well from pedestrians. Now he sat here watching through the scope of his gun, trying to gather some intel on his target. It wasn't working too well, these people didn't know much about him. Now he was faced with a problem. Leave them be and keep going solo, or join up with them. They could be usefull to him, help him find and get close to his target. They might even be able to kill the target for him. He continued to think, remaining in the tree, watching.

Name: Luther McMullen/ Vision
Affiliation: Good
Powers: Teleportation, Heighten sense (sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch )\
Appearance: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_North_(comics) looks the same except instead of a jacket he where’s a dark blue vest, stands at about 5’8,175, stocky, (don’t worry about face keeps mask on ),holsters to hold his weapons on both the inside and outside of his vest.
Weapons: 7 inch Combat knife, Taurus pt145with laser point on pistol , http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Taurus_PT145_Disassembled.jpg
, 2x 9mm semi automatic with laser point on pistol  , Walther P99 9x19mm with laser point on pistol , http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Walther_P99_9x19mm.png
, Colt Anaconda revolver ( silver), Colt python revolver ( black), M4 Carbine Rifle with acog scope.
Background: Luther worked in an elite scout unite in the marine core, after his contract was done, his unit was chosen to be apart of a special unit. They were told by there commander that there DNA would be altered to give them special abilities, there unit was called Raven. Each solider would be given an alias to go by so that there identity would be protected, as the solders waited in the prep room for commander Winston to brief them on, what was called Operation shield, the unit consist of three highly skilled, and experienced Marines ( Luther McMullen, Anthony Smith, and Michael Simmons ).
{ In a dark windowless room sits Staff Sergeant Luther McMullen, Sergeant Anthony Smith, and Captain Michael Simmons }
{In walks General Wilson he tosses a folder on the table in front of the three men}
Wilson: ” How are you today Men ?“
Altogether: ” Perfect sir!“
Michael: ” Permission to speak sir ?”
Wilson: ” Granted solder.”
Michael: ” When does the mission start sir ? “
Wilson: ” Today, I’m sure you have been injected with Deck-Na, or super juice as the scientist call it.”
Altogether: ” Sir yes Sir.”
Wilson: “ In the folder you will find individual envelopes with your  names on them take them and follow me.”
  Luther grasp his envelope and proceeded to the door to follow General Wilson , down a corridor into a hangar. The group stop at  bench that has three individual suits and equipment on it.
Wilson: “ Suit up men then get into the plane. It is going to take you right outside  a city called Norton Peak, you will split once inside the city. When inside the city open your individual envelopes, inside you will find a slip with your code name, 10,000 dollars, and communicators to keep in touch with me and your selves. Each week you will meet outside the city if not dead to restock. You will be briefed on your mission when you reach your destination to use your communicators, Good look men and god speed.”
Altogether : “ Sir yes sir! “
  The three men walk into the plane and take there seats there are speechless awaiting the task ahead, all Luther could think about was, what could be so bad that this mission was top secret.

Screw it Falke thought as he dropped from the tree. He made his approach slow, slinging his rifle over his back, didnt want to make the wrong impression and get himself killed. As he approached he raised his hands to shoulder height, no tricks here, no death for the others from his hands. At least, not yet. The HKs would not whisper, and the Bulls would not roar. Yet. Behind his mask he grinned. His target would die, in time, the people before him might also, but that was for fate to decide.

((Added some to my character sheet thingy, under weapons))

Fara gestured to the 1911 in Gez's grasp, he merely shrugged.
"Vigilante causing trouble, just had it out for re-assurance." He winked. "How did you end up here anyway?"

"Well, I-" Fara was cut off by a minor explosion behind them.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I think we might want to get moving...as opposed to standing around chatting." Michael hinted.

"Oya, let's hunt."

The group began walking. Fara attempted to start a conversation with Cale, Michael dropped back a bit to walk beside Gez, whom he noticed was watching Fara intentively.

"Bow chicka wow wow." Michel whispered, nudging Gez with his elbow.

Gez sighed before hitting Shaw in the arm. "You really haven't changed, not a bit."