RPG Dark City: A Super Humans' Tale (Page 5 of 6)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.))

"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.

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!

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...

((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."