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Night of the Living Jack

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Night of the Living Jack

Post by Zonky Blong on July 6th 2018, 2:36 am

The night was cool in Vernon, Texas as Zane Lopèz felt the heavy weight over his eyes. Zane was a tall Hispanic man, around the age of 43. He had the skin of a man who had worked for most of his life. He had been drinking most of the night, and it was clear by his lidded gaze that he wasn’t going to be able to fight it much longer. That was until a bright light and some heat hit him as a small number of people came out of his own front door. One of them he found especially interesting. The pumpkin headed man he had seen on the news a couple times.

He was a serial killer and a super villain. His associates, though normal looking at first, soon became recognizable. There was that politician girl and a guy he knew because of gun collecting. Isaac and Katrina something. This had to be the weirdest dream Zane had ever had. He must’ve left the TV on and he was asleep in the living room. “Alright. We clear on the plan?” The pumpkin man asked as he moved forward. After a moment, he nodded and whipped out his scythe. As morbid as it was, Zane had to wonder how many met their end at the blade of that weapon. The man flew into the air.

“Take care of the witness while I look for my objective.” With that, Jack flew into the air and searched the area. He could smell it in the air. He had trained himself to hunt these things. That’s when he saw it. A faint golden shimmer just over a windowsill. He flew forward at top speed. Almost there. Just gotta go invisible and… success. A small human like leg struggled in his grasp. And just before Jack became visible again, as did the creature. The thing was around 2 - 3 feet tall, at the most, with purple bug like compound eyes that shifted like sand. The creature was covered with golden fur and had a crown of light blue feathers in the shape of a sleeping hat. The weirdest thing was its tail, which looked like a bag with an opening at one end. Jack grinned a wicked grin and pulled out a knife he had “found” and cut off the creatures tail. The thing began bleeding sand as it screamed. Anything the sand touched became instantly sleepy. Jack had killed his first sandman.

He threw the thing to the side just before thunder cracked. “Welcome to your nightmare, Vernon.” Jack said and then cackled. “AHAHAHAHAHA!” And began his dark work.

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Re: Night of the Living Jack

Post by Puglife43vr on July 6th 2018, 6:29 am

On his Tarche Aerospace branded jet, Finn Tarche would be flying over America, waiting to make his debut. Every few seconds he would check two monitors. One was for the news while the other was to check on the R-10T, stored away somewhere within the jet.

He presses the flight attendant button, beckoning for an attendant to come over. Tarche asks for a cup of coffee and a pastry to go with it. As it is being brought over to him, he leaps up, inadvertently spilling coffee all over the attendant. He grabs the monitor with both hands. "Yes, yes, yes! This is the perfect chance to make my debut!" On the breaking news, there would be a man reporting about trouble in Vernon, Texas. Supervillains. A couple of metahumans, perhaps.

He hands the burning flight attendant a stack of hundred dollar bills before sitting back down. He pushes some buttons on the console beside his seat. He does a palm scan for security. The seat's soft backrest would peel back revealing a large amount of intricate machinery. He reclines his seat and lets the chair do its work. The armor would be placed over his body, connecting to the implants beneath his skin. Weapons would be loaded into their various places under the armor's surface. Ten seconds after it started, the suit up sequence ended, dropping him in the armor out and into the open sky. He lets out a massive "WOOOOHOOOOO!" as his thrusters launch him toward Vernon.
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Re: Night of the Living Jack

Post by Katrina A. Russel on July 7th 2018, 2:57 am

The portal from The Pit always left her with a slightly uneasy feeling. Hell the Pit left her with a slightly uneasy feeling, like it was eating away at her very existence (which is exactly what it was doing, so it’s understandable.) But the flaming, hellish red door to the Pit clung to her skin, making it feel like a thin layer of plastic layer over on the sensitive flesh. And it was so unreliable! Despite all her best attempts at uncovering it’s secrets, it still lay hidden to her and it infuriated her to no end, especially since no one else in the pit seemed interested in how it worked! How could they not?! They traveled impossible distances in the blink of an eye and yet they all accepted it. Impossible.

Today’s mission was simple; create as much havoc as possible and provide cover for Jack. Easy enough. Already she felt the darkness inside her grin at the concept. It wanted out to murder and destroy and sow chaos. It was a weird feeling, like worms crawling under her skin, and it caused a particularly uncomfortable expression on her face (along with the already distraught one from the of The Pit.) She shoved it down, holding the darkness down with promises of release soon. They were here now, she had to change and then they would be fine. Why wasn’t she changed already? She was late. Really late, but in her defense you can’t exactly enter a portal to Hell at a press conference. They’d have a field day with that.

”Take care of witnesses.”

Ah shit.

See, that was another problem with the Door to The Pit. Sure you could go anywhere in the world, but without proper surveillance, you get situations like this. She cast a look at the retreating back of the stupid Pumpkin. What the hell was he thinking, going in blind? Her fists closed in anger. He had to die now, she didn’t have a choice, he’d seen her without a mask on. The one part of her typical uniform she did wear was the Utility Belt, and from this she pulled a knife. Wicked, serrated and about six inches long, it could slice through bone and flesh like butter. Her eyes were cold, merciless, and yet the darkness was already forming, a manic form of delight dancing in the sapphire orbs.

And then she darted forward, darting behind the large man and sinking the blade into the base of his neck. It required a bit of a jump, sure, but it was painless, instant and most importantly, mostly bloodless. The knife came out with a thin trickle of blood and she cleaned it on the man’s shirt before sheathing it. Rust was sharpness’ worst enemy and blood could rust steel as easy as age. The blade was bladed back in it’s holster with a soft click, only the dyed black hilt visible under the blouse of the short girl. Katrina paid the dead body no mind, stepping over it to get to the bathroom.

“I’m changing. Don’t come in or I will remove your eyes.”


She had left by the bathroom window (why not keep the boys wondering?) and was now in position. The battle plan had been discussed beforehand, of course. A scheme of this size was bound to attract attention, so her job (and the other’s involved, Sammy and- whatever his name was, dog-girls husband) was to keep any do-gooder’s distracted. Which, y’know, honestly shouldn’t be too. Good guys were always boring, with super predictable powers. Nothing she couldn’t handle! Especially from her position. The tallest building in town was her base, what security there were on site currently laying in a prone pile at the base of the mill. A huge hole in what had once been one of the oldest functional mills in the state served as her nest. Oh, and boy was it a nest. No way was she going to be uncomfortable. Blankets and pillows, pilfered from houses on her way to the mill, lay in a circle, her strung bow nearby. Snacks and drinks were kept in a small cooler as well, soda and chips of all kinds sticking out of it.

It certainly didn’t take long for the fun to start. She had just crawled into her little nest when a plane whizzed over the area- way too low for a civilian operation, and the fort was miles away, and it was too late for any military exercise. No, this was definitely some kind of hero thing. She’d heard of people trying to fight crime with no powers, just tech. And it was so funny, kinda cute actually. Her hunch was confirmed when she saw something fall directly from it. It was a person, dressed in some kind of armor. She followed his movement through her spyglass until it disappeared behind a building.

”Did you all get that?”

The image was sent to her companions, all marked with The Mark of the Mind. She had cast it before they left, while still in The Pit. Better than any sophisticated transmitters and can’t be overheard. They’d all see the same thing as her in a little box in their vision, like a window screen, while her voice rang through loud and clear. The message was simple; the party had started, and it was time to get off your butts. Her red rings were already activated, the only sign underneath the white armored dress around the neck where it looked like a red choker. She softly moved, taking care not to go too fast so as not to alert attention. And then she grabbed her bow, pulled an arrow from the quiver, and nocked it.

The second the armored man stepped out from cover, he’d have an arrow moving three times the speed of sound arching towards his heart.
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Re: Night of the Living Jack

Post by Nate6595 on July 9th 2018, 12:35 pm

Of all the places Nicolas had to be reborn in, it had to be Vernon Texas. He had only been alive for three days and already he was regretting to have died in such a horrid place like this. It was what nightmares were made of. During the days in Vernon the heat was unbearable, or, at least it was for Nicolas. Most of his time spent in the blazing heat of the sun was spent beating himself up and questioning how he could let himself die in a place like this. It was only in the pleasantly cool nights that Nicolas could find some reprieve from this hellish landscape and all the dreaded heat that it held. If not for the nights Nicolas was sure he would've perished in the heat, in fact, he was quite sure that was what probably killed him here in the first place. Whatever brought him here must've had a damn good argument. 

During his pleasant nights in Vernon he had spent most of his time reviewing the notebooks he had left for himself, important info that the past him felt was important to know. He would casually flip through the pages, trying to piece together his life, his goals, and potentially what had happened in his previous life. He only knew that he had died about two weeks ago, he didn't know the cause or reason, but maybe there would be something in one of his journals that would shed some light on the situation. At least, that was his hope. A hope which was not realized, unfortunately. It seemed as though, at least according to the local calendars, it had been a good three years since he had wrote anything down in his notebook. Good to know that he was doing exciting things... This probably meant his death was accidental and, even if it wasn't, there was nothing that could be done about it now. It was just how it was and there was no real reason to lose any sleep over it. He just had stay cool, that's all there was to it. 

There had been one note, however, that he had found in his notebook that gave him a strange feeling of pride. A note written in childish handwriting which read, "You are a hero.", and while Nicolas had no way to prove that that line was true, he trusted his notebooks as they were the only way he could even begin to remember anything from his past. He took those words to heart and enjoying the sense of pride which he felt from them he decided to commit to this line of work and follow through with it. He would be a hero, at least, during the evenings. During the day he could still use his magic and ice, but it didn't come as easily as it did at night. The night was still a bit tough, but he could do it. Once he had felt he did enough here he would move on to another city, perhaps somewhere up North? While he could do warm weather, he much rather be somewhere more chilly, somewhere he could be comfortable in. It would have to wait for now, but it was something to think about. 

Right now, Nicolas was a patrolling a rather empty street in Vernon, a quiet neighborhood in which most of the residence were already asleep. He had engaged in a drunk pair earlier and then had helped a lost child find their way to their parents, other than that today had been pretty tame. The day before he had managed to stop a robbery, but other than that it seemed to be pretty quiet around here. The local police, as well as a few other small time heroes, kept the city pretty secure. After tonight Nicolas would probably head out and seek somewhere else that was in great need of him. Somewhere where he could actually feel like a hero and not just some washed up vigilante. It was also just getting boring here, H3e wanted something more to do, a challenge, a real fight. However, for tonight he would do his best to keep the city in a peaceful state. There was something about tonight that irked him to stay around. For whatever reason he was worried something was going to happen. It sort of felt like the stirring of a crowd right before a disaster. It was probably just his head playing tricks on him, but he couldn't be sure. 

By the time Nicolas had finished his patrolling of city, at least the portion he had wanted to patrol, it was still pretty early in the evening, though he was still feeling exhausted. It was dark without a doubt, but the city lights did a good job combating it. The only visible thing that hung far up in the sky was the moon which was nearly full now. The rays of light beaming from the moon seemed to shine down upon the tallest building of the Vernon. Nicolas was only a couple blocks away from it and from where he stood he could really appreciate its stature, its looming presence. It gave him a strange feeling of both admiration and intimidation.

He was about to start walking towards it when something caught his eye. A shadow suddenly shifted in an adjacent alleyway and he was pretty sure that he had heard voice. It was probably a homeless person, but regardless Nicolas wanted to investigate. Slipping his hands into the pockets of his pants he turned and went down the alleyway, staying alert to whatever may pop out from the darkness.

As he made his way down the alleyway he called out in a cool and calm tone. "Yo. Anyone down here? Everything alright?" He didn't expect a reply, in fact, he was rather confident that it had gotten quieter. He cleared his throat once, bringing a fist to his mouth, then called out again in the same tone. "Yo! I'm a hero, if there's anything wrong you can trust me." Nothing. The only sounds now were the distant sounds of the city and footsteps and they echoed off the wall. He let out a single cold breath which turned to fog in front of his face. He slowly began to coat his hands in ice, readying himself.

Something was definitely wrong here...

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Re: Night of the Living Jack

Post by Samael Christensen on July 9th 2018, 4:10 pm

Samael hated The Pit.

It reeked of hell, and he hated that scent even more than Las Vegas the supposed city of sin. More than anything he was agitated, feeling the sting of injuries that refused to heal. Bandages had been wrapped tight around his torso, covered by his usual choice in clothes. Even still, the only thing hiding the black stains on his white shirt was the dark leather jacket. His skin was paler than usual, and each step seemed to be dogged by immense fatigue. Even as he stepped out onto the no name city in texas, all the cambion could feel was a certainty that he would not like this at all. Existential pain had become the more familiar physical. If there was a god, well likely they hated him as much as he hated himself. Even as he strode through the rip within reality, smokey shadows were still trying to mend the stubborn gouge within his side.

This was perhaps the weakest he had ever felt. His half-brother had made sure of that. His mind was fresh with the image of the gleaming crystal blade slicing through him, burning pain and temporary hatred rising from that sensation. A voice spoke, connected through his mind as he was temporarily overcome with pain and slammed into the side of  a lonely dumpster. This didn’t last long, just small waves of agony that painted his sight red.

”You’ll only ever be a monster.”

These words rang in his head, filled with bitter hatred that lashed out at him as he pulled to his feet. Well wasn’t that just great? Another person that didn’t really care for his human soul or whatever. Something even deeper wanted to give into it. Destroy everything. Crush them until there was nothing but ashes for humanity to die in. The image of an armored person falling from a plane came to his mind, and he sighed. So his servitude to a mad pumpkin began in earnest. How many would he be expected to put down before the mad jackass was satisfied?

Likely there would be no proper answer, and so he raised the hood of his jacket, casting shadows over his face. Easier done when he controlled the shadows themselves. ”Well, a least i’ll be making someone proud.” He stepped through the lip of the dark alley and the shadowy hounds of hell followed. Not actual hounds, just the very shadows shaped in such a form. There were a witness but nothing that Katrina worried about. Instead the wolves took after anyone walking about, still awake. Their fanged maws aimed for necks, ripping through flesh and tea apart windpipes as well as arteries. He felt both disgust and jubilation in the wanton taking of human lives.

Men and women were targeted without remorse, but not a child was targeted. In a sense this was how revenge stories were made, though maybe he wanted that. Someone to come after him, and to eventually deal the final blow. ”I wonder if there will be any strong heroes around.” He muttered to himself, almost hoping for that.

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The Vengeful Outsider - Adam Johnson
The Martyr of Las Vegas - Ashley Cresswell
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Re: Night of the Living Jack

Post by Adlay on July 13th 2018, 2:57 pm

”It was a hot night in Hell …”

The blond girl muttered to herself under the canopy of the bar she had just been evicted from - something about courting alcohol poisoning, who the fuck knows? - and stared down the street. Even at night, this place fucking sucked. Heat waves rolled across the ground, bigoted asshats cowered in their house, and- was that a legit tumbleweed? That cinches it, this is officially the worst place on Earth.She watched the dry patch of thorns bounce down the street before turning away from the bar, fanning herself lightly. Even in the light green camisole and hotpants she was wearing, she was still sweating like a dog. She wasn’t even wearing shoes! What kidn of place was this that it was 100 degrees at night?!

Okay, so it wasn’t the weather that was pissing her off. She was a Houston girl born and raised, heat like this doesn’t bother. No, it was the people in the town that were pissing her off. Intolerant, incapable of showing basic human compassion, most lacking even the barest of willpower or sense of honor and justice. They were small-minded, horrible little human beings and honestly made the woman glad she wasn’t. People and towns like this are throwbacks to a time when everybody who wasn’t white, male, and straight was a lesser class citizen. And by Adlay, how that wasn’t true. If anything, these cookie cutter people (seriously, how many different variants on “cowboy” can one town have?) were the majority in the world compared to the amount of unique people there are.

They didn’t like her telling them that one bit.

It wasn’t her choice to be here. They had been traveling, on vacation in Houston. Due to wildfires (what else?) Us Route 84 was closed, so they had a take a detour through all these little towns dotting the state. And it just so happens, for one reason or another, they broke down here. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the dust, or maybe it was the lamp post they slammed into, who knows. The point was, they’re stuck here while their car is totalled and Elaine was so pissed off. Theoretically, she could run them all back before the morning rises, it wasn’t that far, honestly, and compared to her strength, her parents weighed nothing. But they've made it very clear her powers aren’t for them, so.

”Seriously, why is so fucking hot!? I swear by my mother’s name, I’m going to punch the fucking-”

Her irate yelling was cut short suddenly as there was … something in the shadows. Down the alley in front of her there was something, shapes stirring, black upon black. And then suddenly things rushed forward, darting around her, the shape of dogs but it stirred something inside her, something too human. She spun to follow them and in that instant one leaped for her. She reacted with all the reflexes born from her training and punched it full force in the snout. She wasn’t a normal girl, you know; she can dent steel with her punches. But Elaine did not stick around to see what happened to it, no. A shower of green sparks cascaded down her body, covering her for a brief second and when it cleared, she was no longer in the casual outfit. A skintight outfit, black save for the green symbol emblazoned over her chest, covered her body. An eye mask, contoured to her features, was on her face and her long blond hair was tied in a ponytail, the dyed green streaks standing in sharp relief. And the next second, green energy poured from her like waves, radiating from a gauntlet on her hand.

”I don’t know who the hell you think you are, kid …” She had seen Sammy now and was facing him down, her emerald eyes staring down at him. ”But I suggest you cease and desist before I throw you in jail.”
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Re: Night of the Living Jack

Post by Nate6595 on July 14th 2018, 10:45 pm

There were many things Isaac disliked. People lesser than him, freaks, losing money, and getting his clothes stained. Above all of those, the two things he hated most were pain and death. And painful deaths. Jack was one who could provide Isaac with both and had to highest likelihood to do so, he was an insane pumpkin serial killer thing after all, so the last thing that Isaac wanted to do was to provide Jack with any reason to do so. So when Jack asked if they were all clear on the plan Isaac simply nodded and meant it. He followed Jack through the Pit with that other...bimbo, and out to some less desirable location.

Eagerly stepping forward, straightening his pale blue tie as he went, Isaac was going to kill the witness. The witness was obviously lower class and he had no moral qualms with taking care of this bumpkin, however, it seemed as though the bimbo was taking the lead. There certain tinge of disappointment that touched Isaac's face, but alas, it was what it was, at least he wouldn't have to risk staining his fine grey suit to some unknown grease that could have seeped from the man's body. Also potentially blood, but blood was easy to get out of a suit, grease was another story. It was just less work for Isaac to do. He had his own job tonight, a job that was not really his strong point, but it got him some credit with the group. Credit with a group like this would payoff very well in the future, all he had to do was choose the right moment to cash in.

He looked to Jack and the bimbo and cleared his throat. "Well then. If the messy stuff is all taken care of, I do believe I will move into my position. I have selected a rather 'fine' location. There is an abandoned apartment building not too far off from that tall eyesore. I had the men clear it out of homeless people and have a few people stationed there to guard it. The rest of the men are in position as well." He gave them a small nod. "I'll wait till the appropriate time then tell them to get to work, but until then..." He nodded again. "I'll speak with you both when we're done. I'll buy the drinks at the bar." He turned and started away. As he made his way out he pulled on the rim off one his gloves, adjusting it slightly.

Moving through the hot air of the night was more than dreadful for Isaac, especially in his suit, but he had to do it. If his plan was going to work out he needed to make his way to-Ah! There he was. On the corner of a street, about ten blocks from where he needed to be, Isaac saw the most important man of the evening. Henry Briner. He wasn't anything special, no powers, not his strongest lackey, but he had a very important role tonight, a role Isaac didn't want to resort to, but a role that was important nonetheless. If things went south, Henry would be the one that would get Isaac out of it, of course this was if anything went wrong, which was unlikely, but it was good to have an alternative.

Isaac went to go shake Henry's hand, but as he drew Henry quickly turned Isaac around and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close, a very aggressive action that caught the eyes of some onlookers, but no dared intervene. Isaac could see a younger boy, somewhere in the teens go for a cellphone. Perfect. Henry was playing his part perfectly. The two of them managed to call a taxi to which Isaac was shoved in.  The taxi then brought them to the right address, a tall, five story building that had looked to be long abandoned. Windows were smashed in or covered with wooden boards, there looked to be no signs of life, minus a rat that crawled by, and there were several bricks that were loose or smashed upon the ground. It was the perfect place to hide out, no one would expect anyone but the homeless to dwell here and more importantly, under normal circumstances Isaac would never be caught dead in a place like this.

Isaac was pushed out of the taxi and into the abandoned building, not having a chance to gather himself or straighten his jacket. Once inside and the door was shut behind him Isaac turned and faced the goon, raising a brow at him. Henry bowed his head. "I am sorry, sir! I figured for this plan it would be best to do so!" Isaac simply nodded in reply. It was a good idea, but being manhandled by a lower class was very...disgusting. He'd need a shower after this. He took a look around the room and grimaced. He'd need two showers after this. This place, while perfect the plan, was not perfect for Isaac to socialize and work in. He should've had a cleaning crew run through here before having the workshop set up upstairs. He sighed, it'd have to do for now. He didn't have much of a choice anyways. He worked towards the elevator which stood just right next to the staircase leading upward. He pressed the button and went in with Henry.

"I'm assuming all the men are in position and that the shop upstairs is set up?" Isaac started, adjusting his gloves again, followed by straightening his tie and jacket. Henry nodded once, then Isaac went on. "Good. All the cameras and drones in position, being controlled?" Henry nodded against which brought a grin to Isaac's face. "And. There are others guarding this building? Something to buy us time in case one of the heroes gets close, right? And!" He added again. "The handcuffs?" The guard nodded again, this time, right as the elevator opened to the top floor which was just a single room. It was a small addition to the roof that was meant to be a maintenance room, but instead, at least for tonight, it had been turned into a very different room. The floor was carpeted and there was a door on the far side of it which led to the rest of the roof. There was a large desk against the wall with several glowing monitors upon it, each with a different image upon it. There was also a keyboard and a small dock that had five different radios charging in it.  There were no windows to the room, which made it a bit stuffy, but it would do. He'd have to deal with it tonight.

Isaac looked to Henry who was turning a key in the elevator to lock it there. Worse case they could take that back down, there was also a hatch on the roof which led down to the floor below, and in addition to that, there were the side emergency stairwells on the side of the building, the fire escapes. There were plenty of waves to get out if it came to that, but Isaac also had the ace up his sleeve, his line of defense if things went sour. Taking in one deep breath, he nodded, and went over to the computer. Ready to go.

In the streets all the goons and hired mercs were getting into position, ready to cause chaos and distract the city and its heroes. It was going to be fun night indeed.

(If you guys want to include seeing the mercs and goons starting to revolt and do stuff in the alleyways and streets, by all means, if not, I will do so next post! Also feel free to kill them or dispose of them however! They're just goons with a decent assortment of guns! Don't really hold much importance!)
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Location : New York!
Age : 23
Job : Student
Humor : Everything!
Registration date : 2017-12-21

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