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Alert: Deadman Tell no Tales

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Alert: Deadman Tell no Tales

Post by The Lych on January 13th 2019, 3:06 am

Los Angeles, the city of Angels. I can’t help but allow a small smirk to cross my lips when I recall that name. It was so long ago that Castiel was left here, found and saved by my son. I loathe the being, but they have given me a second chance as the light has slowly been snuffed from the Angel. Now he trembles, cowers in fear. He has powers beyond that of our reality and yet he crawls to me, begging. Once the angel Castiel, now the Eldritch horror known as Samhain. I tried to tell him, to warn him what would happen. I warned him way back in the days of his radiant light. I warned him, and told him the same thing I tell them all.

There is a difference between “Darkness” and “Evil”. You simply cannot see it. Not while you stand in the light, and not while the line in which thee change remains shrouded in darkness. I’ve been a horrible father. I’ve been the worst of the worst and despite all of this I remain...oddly unrepentant. My son, both of my sons have turned out to be wonderful young men. I used to scoff and say that there was no such thing as a good man, but feeling my sons sacrifice. Feeling him attempt to end my curse by taking it upon himself. I suppose in a way that broke me. It shook my world, the entirety of the darkness inside pouring out.

It was such a curious feeling. Being grateful. Feeling what it means to die. I wish I could have stayed that way, I wish I could hide my shame for who I am and what I’ve done. Yet somehow, I remain unrepentant. Perhaps it’s the cold sting of being what I am. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter if my heart beat for the actual purposes of survive. Perhaps I truly am what everyone makes of me. I had so hoped to change that. Unfortunately that doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen today.

I sit here in my car, with three large men in black suits and earpieces. I can hear their hearts beat. I can feel the thumps as they try to maintain their composure. The Secret Service was busy defending their designated duties, but these men were a “modest” force to be gifted to me for my protection. I was quite reluctant to accept the assistance, but I do have a personna to maintain. Especially with my current employment as the Secretary of State. They insisted that I not come to this place, that it was too dangerous. Of course I had to make it political. “If I cannot go and experience the voice of our people, I cannot dream to advise you of all peoples abroad.” I said. “It is my duty as an American and as a Patriot to subject myself to the people and their woes!” I yelled. It’s always such a good mask to wear, the mask of a patriot. The mask of someone who cares. The mask of someone who can.

“Sir, we should go. We’ve got reports of citizens in Ghost Masks ” My loyal protector would say. I cleared my throat and shook my head, my small smile still visible. I could tell that it was unnerving to be here. But I had a plan, and I had a goal in mind. I couldn’t turn back. Not here, and not now.

“A man’s character, is his fate.” I was all I replied. This was the first thing that came to mind as I pondered my impending meeting with these ghost-faced individuals. Here I was, taking a small break from the sun within the tinted windows of my car. Feeling the cellular degradation of my skin slowly stitching itself back together. My eyes shifted from what I watched from behind the tinted windows. The relief efforts, the sanctuary I was giving to those whom had been victimized within the violence. Tents with food and water, a manufactured refugee camp if ever I saw one. I had seen many of them, I remember them all. My eyes fell upon my guardians, they were perplexed by my still mind and my unworried attitude. I soften my cold, dead heart for a moment and suspend what small disdain I have for all of the living to speak to these men.

“When we talk of Philosophy most people think to Socrates. His revelations and his contributions becoming an entire branch to change the world. But so many people have forgotten the wisdom held by his predecessors. Heraclitus was the first notable man to form the concept of Logos “Everything flows” everything has a logical conclusion. But then one day he had a vision and he gave forth the concept that opposites are actually the only things that experience true unity. Chaos and Order are the same...life and death. The only difference is the transition, but neither to be feared, both to be embraced.” I could deal myself ranting, and I was unsure the necessity of such words to these men. They were going to die. Perhaps some part of me wanted them to find peace in those words? Comfort? I don’t know, neither of those were things I experienced, desires or things I wished to impart. These men had been close to me long enough. It was time….

Without any prompt, without any command their eyes grew heavy and their necks grew weak as they all seemed to slump back a small while. Their breathing became shallow, but they would not die. Death’s gentle cousin visited them while the Reaper sat in the car with them. I am very aware that violence is all that these extremists understand. I highly anticipate a hail of bullets to fire at any moment, but I can’t help but FEEL wrong. The fact I could feel at all was wrong. Perhaps my curse hadn’t fully separated me from my emotions yet.

I could see the men and women now, a small mob of people with them. I looked to each of the men I had placed into a deep, calm slumber, and for a moment I could swear I could empathize with their memories. Even though they were not mine, it made me understand that these were not my lives to offer up. One day I may lose this paltry compassion, one day I may not even have the humanity left to place them into slumber for a peaceful death. But for today, I am the man I am…

Even if tomorrow I am not the man I wanted to be…

I place my hand on the door’s handle and I pull upon the sleek silver handle, I stand up and I place my hands into the air, shouting. I try my damndest to pull the attention of the masked individuals, seeing the security force I had hired with my own funding with their arms trained.

“ENOUGH!” I yelled, I stepped forward, keeping my hands up. If I could be a sacrificial lamb for these radicalists I would gladly offer that to them. It would spare those whom had already been victimized. It wasn’t as if I had to worry about being killed either, how does one kill The Eternal? How does one kill The Great Promise? How could they kill The Lych? I step forward again, no shots yet fired. “No more casualties to either side. I am everything you target. The one percent, and a politician of promises and lies. They are the victims. I surrender. Please don’t take anymore from them. Like you they have nothing left to give...” I said, the words were far more heartfelt than I imagined. I felt something inside me shrivel. There was no media here, there were no ploys here. This wasn’t part of my political play, this was not part of my grand design. But perhaps if I could save someone, it would be enough.

I could feel the masked men walking over to me, several of them grabbing my arms while another took a crowbar to my knee with full force. I turned my knee in and yelled a feigned pain as I let my leg stagger, becoming dead weight as they dragged me off. There was one with a mask, substantially different than the others. He fired his gun into the air, and I watched as best I could as he pointed to those I had tried to provide for.

“Get out your phones. Record this...” he said, his voice sounded as if it had been altered. Not through any means of technology or magic, but with the way they spoke. It was strained, hoarse. The individuals questioned it, but as the man made a motion with his hand, the masked militia took to arms, the soldiers I hired outnumbered. The civilians began to comply as he spoke. I watched, listening intently for every little detail could gather. “They talk about this age, this country as if it were something great. They talk about freedom, and respect but when I turn to the news it’s always something about an officer who took a young man’s life! A child victimized while the crime is politicized for the benefit of some legal office, or attributing glory to the monster who escapes judgement because he can afford the greatest liar money can buy. We are told to share as children, but as adults we are isolated, separated and looked down upon by this “one per-cent”. They TAKE OUR MONEY by EXPLOITING OUR NEEDS! They call it justice, they call themselves entrepreneurs. They take advantage of us, and hold our happiness in bondage! IN SLAVERY so that we are dependant upon them and their faulty system! All while they kill, rape and mutilate the culture of the very society we dreamed of, a society where WE STAND TOGETHER! I cannot tell you personally if Alistair Marlowe is a good man, or not. I cannot tell you that good men, women and even children haven’t been hurt. But I can tell you that WE THE PEOPLE, GOOD PEOPLE have suffered indignantly at the hands of men like Mr.Marlowe. If we must lose good men, then so must they. THAT IS JUSTICE, the very justice the one per-cent had evaded their whole lives. This is not a war. This is the people rising up. So stand up, and be accounted! FIND YOUR PLACE IN THE REVOLUTION!” The man shouted as he fired his gun in the air. I couldn’t help but feel so horrifically mortified by what poison and lies the man was spewing. Did he truly see the world this way, or was he simply a puppet in a far larger game? That was my first intuition.

I was being dragged off, there was no bloodshed here. Not today, but I knew that this was not going to be anything of consequence come the morning. These were not a mob, these were not thugs, this was not a gang. These were revolutionaries in the chaos, snakes in the grass, the people whom felt as if they had been tread upon. I remember now, how it feels to be that man. For the first time, since my son plunged a sword into the both of us, I had felt true terror…
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Re: Alert: Deadman Tell no Tales

Post by Humanity on January 13th 2019, 3:06 am

The news flashed as reports of Alistair Marlowe being captured by the radical “activists” throughout the entirety of L.A. The Vigilantes had been busy, and it was all hands on deck. Humanity may have been undefeated, he may have been able to defeat Atlas, but he was still only ONE MAN. He couldn’t cover the ground of an entire revolution. X was on watch, Khaos was on watch, Citizen Zero was on watch, Orwell was even helping out, fearing that The Black King may have had some involvement in this chaos. Humanity was actually at an impasse, however. Every time he left on patrol, he and all of his allies risked encountering Promethean, or even that renegade Vigilante. Life had certainly gotten complicated.

Humanity got the drop on two of the ghost-faced men as they walked the dark alley. A hack and a slash to the neck with his knife only silenced them before they could call out. Three of the others had heard and turned to look for their compatriots, only to see the hooded and fearsome form. Humanity tried to conserve his serum, however he couldn’t help but question if now was a good time. Guns trained they announced his presence to the entire group. Firing his grappling node to the wall he tugged, the motor pulling him up. Turning he threw his knife, a ringing through the air as it found it’s way right into a man’s side, causing him to fall over in pain. The gunfire followed after him as he rolled over onto the roof and out of sight. Reaching to his pocket he withdrew a few small spheres with clickable buttons. PRessing the three of them, he lobbed them over and listened as smoke hissed out of them.

That will provide some cover. He said as he stood up, using adjusting his grappling node once more as he aimed for another building across the alley, jumping and swooping into the smoke. As he disappeared into the smoke there was one that shouted. Humanity had to give credit, these people had very good communication skills for radical common folk that just randomly enlisted in combat. It made it difficult for him to spare their lives, since slitting throats tended to put a nice damber on enemy communication.

His fists were the only weapon he needed, hitting a man in the stomach and stepping aside. His arm went around his victim’s neck as he held their arm, pulling at the trigger. A small hail of bullets fired off and splattered the blood of another human across the brick wall. Twisting the neck of the man he helf, the sick snapping noise left the man to slowly suffocate as he dropped to the ground, dying. Dicking down, Humanity tackled another man to the ground, aiming low since everyone expected him to be standing tall. As he tackled he felt a sharp pain in his thigh, causing him to dive downward, planting the man. With a reach and a twist of the wrist, he disarmed his floored target, scampering around as he bent the man’s arm across, snapping his hand, and placing a knee on his throat, reaching for his side-arm and letting out shot at another man. There was silence for a moment, Humanity waited a moment, he had forgotten to take count of the group and how many there were. It was simple mistakes he made like this, against humans, that caused him the most injury.

With a sigh he took his knee off the man’s throat, allowing him to breathe again. The smoke began to clear and suddenly he heard a gunshot. Ducking down he pulled the man he had been suffocating up and using him as a human shield as the bullets riddled him. Humanity holstered his gun and waited to hear for a reload. Once he heard the bullets end, he dropped the man and shot his grappler to a lone trash can behind the man, pulling it with force the motor bringing it towards him with impressive speed as it smacked the last ghost in the back, setting him off balance, and causing him to drop the magazine.

The threat no longer apparent, Humanity casually walked up and took the man’s throat into his hand. He began to squeeze as he reached down and took the man’s belt off, sliding it through and allowing the side-arms to drop to the ground.

“Drifter, Charlatan. Anyone near the intersection of Eighth and Remmington Drive?” Humanity asked through the their secured communications link. Drifter was a natural at this stuff, he was grateful to see that Luke was able to excel in assisting the vigilantes with innovative firewalls. They didn’t need the stupid dual-names any longer.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Spoiler:


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Re: Alert: Deadman Tell no Tales

Post by Charlatan on January 13th 2019, 4:24 am

Revolution has come to Las Angeles.

Pat had found out from various internet forums had peeking over Drifter’s shoulder while he did the heavy tech work. They were mostly targeting the rich and privileged, something that sounded like he would have supported. Why people thought killing rich people would  somehow fix inequality was a curious thought, though he didn’t put too much mental information. There were more things that he had to worry about than worrying about the problems of weird social revolutions. He even went out of the way to get his hair colored a nice cosmic conglomeration of shades still cut in his normal low medium length and slightly messy in style. Hopefully no one decided to grab him by it, because that was a thing that people apparently did when they fought.  He should have stayed out of the mess, leaving it to the vigilantes that were skilled in that aspect and heroes that were..better equipped to do so.

That was not the case however. Seemed like every vigilante within the city was on the move.  X, Khaos, Citizen Zero and even Orwell despite his strange connection with the leader of their group. He didn’t know if the guy wanted to kill Humanity, though he didn’t ask any more questions than he needed to.  ”Good to see some action I can actually deal with.” There were likely in the back of that battered looking van Luke drove around, filled to the brim with the tech that he needed to keep his career going. Hacking stuff that would have made even the most skilled Hollywood movie hacker blush. Honestly, he was just good at that portion of his job and maybe even the part that involved kicking some ass. With a low hum he worked over Baptism by Smash, making sure the smashing bit was attached to the  end of it.

There were one or two times it had come undone, flying into a window and setting off like twelve different alarms. Sliding back on the literal and metaphorical mask of a Charlatan, he turned to his friend with a now hidden smirk. If there was one person that he would have been fine with having his life in the hands of, it would have been either Matt or Luke. Khaos was a close third, and then CZ if he needed to rely on him.  It was nice to know he had such reliable people around, willing to bring the good fight where the men in their uniforms could not. Breaking from his thoughts, he heard the sound of the comm.

”Yeah, we’re...a minute or so away,” He stated looking at one of the signs outside any real outside looking point on the van. Patting himself down to make sure all of his gadgets were in check,  he strapped the smashing weapon to his back and prepared. Mentally and even physically. This was going to be a major pain, that much he could assume and even expect. Even the least organized of civilian militias were dangerous if they had guns and he didn’t want to go through being shot. He had been shot once and he didn’t want a taste of that again. Even if Brandon’s brother knew a little bit of the healing stuff to help him out then.

Knowing Humanity, there would be many ghosts of the more literal kind by the time this was all done. Thinking about it made him feel ill, that pit within his stomach that didn’t allow for him to really calm down. Anxiety and excitement all in one. ”Drifter, think you can get us some visuals on this whole mess. Perform your hacking magic on some cameras or whatever?” He was certain that was how hacking worked, otherwise things would have gone differently for their little missions.

He trusted his friend could get the job done.

Now with two weapons strapped to his back and even more under his coat and within the satchel at his side, once the vehicle slowed down he stepped out the back of the van. Feeling the impact of concrete against his feet and hearing the sound of gunshots close. Dangerously close. All of his muscles tensed up, like coils ready to spring. No Ghosts immediately within his line of sight, ducking around the side of the van, he used it as cover in multiple sense. No way in hell was he just going run head first into a hail of bullets and death. Now that would have just left a good looking corpse for all his friends and eligible bachelors across LA to mourn. Don’t laugh. It totally makes sense within his own head. Drawing Sparky from whatever impromptu holster on his back, Charlatan moved towards the gunshots. Taking the  high road so to speak, using fire escapes and the like while also thanking the fact he had taken up exercise likely. Soon enough he would have a four pack even aside from this indecisive two pack.

Not to say that it was an easy way of doing things as at least one of them were not taken out by Humanity. Catching sight of him long enough as he moved over one of the rooftops to point their gun and miss like the marksman they were before being clocked in the side and against their head. Falling to the ground in an unconscious heap. "Who else are we workin with? Any idea how many spooks?” He sent the message across their whole protected thing, hopping down to street level once again with the smoke in sight, keeping low and away from the bullets.
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Re: Alert: Deadman Tell no Tales

Post by Stoic on January 13th 2019, 10:22 pm

Luke drove the van with tight grips on the steering wheel. It had happened. It had finally happened. This wasn't just some riot, this was indeed a revolution. The people had reached their breaking point, and were taking it out on people that weren't necessarily responsible. The inability to move up because of bad policy and a shot economy was finally bearing it's rotten fruit, just like Drifter had expected. This was bad, very bad.

It was true, Drifter had gone after rich people before, but he had also gone after poor people. He had also gone after middle class people. He went after dirt bags, and that was the bottom line. He didn't attribute someone's faults to their group. Those were all on them, and had nothing to do with their class, race, gender, or anything else. That's why lashing out at people simply because they had as much money in their bank accounts as some shady, corrupt cheaters wasn't justice—it was the punishment of the innocent for the crimes of others.

Thankfully, every vigilante had more or less agreed, politics aside, that this was not right, and were moving into stop the revolt. Drifter and Charlatan were on their way to meet up with Humanity, who was already infiltrating one of this groups safe houses. Matt worked quickly, that was for sure. Drifter had barely had time to put his pants on before he got the call. Or, rather, the text.

"Vigilantes Unite!"

Considering what they did, it was a bit playful and cheesy. Luke couldn't help but shake his head and laugh at it. Matt understood the irony, no doubt. It was some solid humor.

After some wild driving through an even more chaotic than usual LA, they had finally arrived at their location. Humanity had been moving around a lot, so it was hard to pin him down, but the vigilante eventually let them know exactly where he was. Luke pulled into an alley and stopped, loading his gauntlets with electrical darts. Just then, Pat asked if he could get a visual on the cameras.

It didn't take long to tap into the network. It was just a matter of sniffing it and capturing enough packets to acquire the master password. Nearly all the cameras in LA had been 'upgraded' to a more digital storing method. That had unfortunately become their weakness. Whenever you made something less mechanical, it inevitably became vulnerable.

The cameras in all the alleys and streets in the area appeared on the screen of his computer, and on Drifter's wrist computer as well. He tossed Pat a cheap smart phone, which was also linked up to the feed. He didn't know how useful it would be, but Luke supposed having a better visual couldn't hurt.

Pat got out and started to find his own way into the chaos. Drifter, however, opted not to follow. He saw a group of three men standing guard in the alley just around the corner from where he had parked the van. They seemed to be unaware of what was going on, smoking and laughing. Apparently their radios were off.

Even if they weren't coming for the vigilantes, they were too close to leave behind. These three weren't a threat now, but they could definitely be a headache if they were simply ignored. If he just moved on, he could end up getting flanked and pinned down. Luke got out of the back of the van, gently shutting the doors as to not make any noise. He didn't want to lose the element of surprise. If he could ambush them, he'd be able to take them down pretty efficiently.

Walking while crouched through the alley, he heard their cackling voices from around the corner. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but from what Drifter could tell it was essentially gloating from two of them. One of them, on the other hand, nervously chuckled, going along with the antics of the others. That was interesting.

Luke peaked around the corner. Their guns, an AK47 and two glocks, were all holstered or propped up against the brick wall. Luke couldn't help but smile at that. These guys were packing some heat, but they were amateurs. They weren't ready for a teenager with a baseball bat, let alone him.

Luke ran out from behind the corner, charging the men. He jumped onto a trash can, using it to launch himself into an aerial kick at the first man's head. As he did this, he fired his gauntlets into a second member of the trio. The man who took the kick hit the ground, apparently knocked cold from the force, and the second man went down convulsing from the taser darts that were sticking out of him.

The third was a bit quicker than Drifter had realized, drawing his handgun and pointing it in the vigilante's face. Luke's eyes went wide. He was expecting a bullet to the mask, which might not have been lethal, but it would have certainly taken him out of the fight. Fortunately, though, this Ghost hesitated. His hands were shaking. He was new to this.

Quicker than a viper, Drifter used a Systema technique to peel the weapon from the Ghost's hand and then quickly follow that up with a stiff elbow to the face. The revolutionary tumbled backwards, falling onto his ass as Drifter removed the mag from the gun and cleared the chamber. He then advanced on the downed goon.

"W-wait! Hold on! Don't kill me! Let me get this off, Equalizer!" the Ghost said, sounding much younger than he expected. The guy was at least 5'11", but he sounded maybe sixteen. More shockingly, he used Drifter's title, The Equalizer. It was something he used for a little while when he first started, but had since dropped. Luke was going to just knock the guy out, but these two things made him stop.

The mask came off, revealing a boy. He wasn't much older than Luke had guessed. He looked, well, terrified. There was a man known for killing people in this city standing over him after having just beat up his friends, so it was understandable. What wasn't understandable was why he was getting involved with these retards. He was going to get himself killed. Luke was furious.

"And just what the hell do you think you're doing, kid?!" Drifter yelled. He heard the one he had kicked getting back up. He had a feeling that wouldn't take him out for the long haul. To rectify it, he just fired his gauntlet behind him, hitting the guy with a few taser darts to bring him down without even looking away from the young man below him.

"W-what do you mean? We're dishing out justice, like you have been for the last year. We're The Equalizers. We're named after you! We're helping you get rid of the corrupt in this city. I understand this is kinda your turf, but why not just talk to us, ya know? We want the same thing!" the kid said. Luke was utterly blown away. He wanted to puke. Had this been his doing? Was this the example he had set? Jesus H Fucking Hot Christ.

"First of all, not my turf. It belongs to Humanity and his vigilantes. Second of all, you seem to have misinterpreted what I was doing, kid. I was getting rid of those people because they were monsters that law enforcement couldn't touch—dirt bags like any random murderer or car thief. I took them down because they were evil, not because they were rich. You and your fucking 'Equalizers' are killing people simply because of the size of their bank accounts. Your leader just said he didn't care if good, innocent people were lost! You call that justice?! I call it class warfare! I call it murder for guilt by association!" Drifter said, walking closer to the boy. He picked him up by his collar, looking him dead in the eye through his mask.

"I'm....I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I just....I just wanted to make a difference, like you!" the kid said. For that he got a stiff punch to the face, causing him to yell out in pain.

"You want to make a difference? Go home and rethink your life. Become an engineer or something, and stop holding yourself back with a preoccupation with those that have more than you. If I ever see you on the streets with a fucking mask again, I swear to God, I'll cut your dick off and feed it to you. Now FUCKING SCRAM!" Luke was livid. They had taken his crusade against high profile crime and turned it into some kind of communist revolution, and they were bringing hard working, angry people into it—leading they astray. This just got a whole lot more personal, and a whole lot more complicated.

After the boy ran off, Luke made walked in the opposite direction, where Humanity was supposed to be. It was honestly the longest few moments of his life. He dragged his feet, and hung his head low as he walked through the maze of alleyways. Thoughts raced through his head—questions. Everything he had been doing the last year and a half was up in the air. He had to reevaluate things, because if this is the message he was sending, it couldn't be good—it couldn't be moral.

Eventually, Luke made it to backstreet where he thought Humanity would be. He sighed in frustration. It seemed Matt had pulled a Batman already, and that Charlatan was God knows where. He could catch up later, though. Right now he needed to fill the others in on what happened just a few moments ago. Drifter played the recording of the conversation he had with the boy over the new communications server, sending it from his wrist computer. Once everyone got a chance to hear the recording, there was dead silence for a brief moment. Luke looked at the dead bodies Humanity had left in the alley, looked at his own holstered gun, and looked at his hands. Luke sighed, finally speaking.

You can do whatever you want with the leaders, but this is my fault. I'm not going to let a bunch of average people get killed just because they have been blinded by ideology that I indirectly lead them to. Nonlethal unless we know they are absolutely responsible for this, or I'm out. If we just start killing people for being a part of this movement without even trying to understand their individual plight, we'll be just like the radicals. We have to be better and have some fucking principals, or there is no justice, just tribes fighting for their arbitrarily chosen beliefs, Luke said over his communicator. He was prepared to walk right the hell away from this mission if Humanity didn't agree. He wasn't going to save the city from extremists by using extremist tactics.

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Stoic

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Quote : "The problem Isn't society, cry baby. People are shitheads no matter the system. The key is to punish the corrupt individually, not to dismantle everything with revolution because of a few assholes."

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Location : Your closet.
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Registration date : 2015-07-27

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Re: Alert: Deadman Tell no Tales

Post by The Lych on January 15th 2019, 9:26 pm

“Secretary of Defense. You seem like such a good man. But we both know that’s a lie. A ruse. Something you wear like a second skin.” A familiar voice taunted me from the darkness. There was no kiss of the sunlight, only the cold embrace of darkness. My guise was quite thankful for this, despite it’s...compromised integrity. Several cuts and sore spots burned as I felt alcohol poured into the cuts on my arms. They needn’t bother, though I suppose I should be grateful. If I were truly alive, I’d likely need to worry about tetanus in a hole such as this one.

“You’re strong willed. But eventually you’ll break. But we need to discuss the matter at hand. You’ve recently become a sponsor of an anti-vigilante task force. Some sort of combatants that are going to clean up the streets. You suggested a tax raise.” The voice came. This was all true but it was hardly intimidating. Truthfully anything in politics you thought was a secret would be whispered in your ear by everyone and their ugly aunt with a smile as if they were in on some good secret. I could only clear my throat. My eyes kept in darkness by a cloth wrapped around my head.

“It looks like someone’s been watching CNN.” I said, just as emotionless as I could. I did not want to give these men the satisfaction, but I still needed to feign injury. I needed to force myself to wince and hiss through my teeth as he grabbed my ar, pushing his thumb into the wound.

“You have no idea what you’re up against. You could hide behind your life of luxury, in your fancy cars and your hired guns. But we see you for what you really are.” The irony was too much for me to bear, I couldn’t help my mouth turning to a smile as he threatened me with those words. My feigned grunts and yells turning to almost manic laughter. “It’s only a matter of time. The Equalizer will come, and he’ll be the one to put you in your place. In an oblong box.” The words were far from intimidating. In fact the comfort of an oblong box sounded quite nice right now. To rest would be a wonderful thing. But this ruse was one that I found myself far more...invested in. It would be a wonderful time for me to keep the perfect facade of a normal human.

“I once met a man who said the same thing about the one they call “Humanity.” Said that he would come for me, that he would end my tyranny on the world...but Humanity never came.” I said, speaking the truth. The man in the skull mask with the emblem glowing in the eye socket made me feel like he was trying to be my number one fan. Of course there was a much deeper lore to this most likely, one that I could not actually force myself to care about. “Perhaps because I’m not who everyone thinks I am, and that I am not pretending. Perhaps I truly am one of the only men on this planet who cares. Can you feel sanctified in what you’re doing?”

“Humanity is a coward! He could never lead the way The Equalizer can! He has no vision, he’s a homicidal maniac with nothing to lose. He doesn’t stand for anything. But us? We do. We’ll still be here when he’s long gone...” The man said, though I couldn’t help but feel a hollow and emptiness inside me. I leaned back and relaxed as I shook my head slowly. Perhaps he was correct. Perhaps he was not. But there was one thing that was certain and clear. This was not going to end well.

“I will hope that your Equalizer comes soon. That way whatever is to be will be. ” That was all I left it at, then I felt the slice of steel on my shoulder. I let out discomforted groans and even a little growl. They wanted a monster to lynch? They shouldn’t have picked The Lych.
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Re: Alert: Deadman Tell no Tales

Post by Humanity on January 15th 2019, 9:36 pm

Humanity grumbled as he looked around. Well these were wasted lives. Not all of them. But out of everyone, there were at least two that were dead. He let out a sigh, recalling everything that happened. It was like a painful memory, what happened in Chicago. Shaking his head he heard Drifter going on a rant about doing things non-lethal or he was out. Matthew, not Humanity, Matthew wanted to unleash all Hell over the communications system. But that would do no good. That wouldn’t make his painful quandary right here any easier. It wouldn’t make his reflexes and his inherent resolution of bloodshed stop. It wouldn’t make the itch in the back of his neck disappear. Does this motherfucker think that he’s opting to kill innocent people? To be the bloodthirsty beast he’s been accused of being!?

“If I witness them taking an innocent life, they die. If they shoot me, they die. Otherwise, I’m not LOOKING for a reason to spill blood. This discussion is over.” Matthew said, his modulator off. There was this level of distrust aimed at Matthew ever since it happened. He could understand that, he could respect that even. But he didn’t have to like it and he didn’t need to take it lying down. Truthfully he was more sensitive than he let on, especially when it came to Luke and Pat. Their judgement was always met with assertive force, not overwhelming as to bend anyone to his will, but steadfast determination to show he wasn’t budging. It was an almost defensive shell he put up to anchor down. Truthfully he acknowledged that this was his way of crying anymore. His friend felt the need to remind him not to kill good people. He was already broken inside, and now he had to worry about this.

“X, I want a full report. Also, Citizen Zero, acknowledge Drifter’s command as my own. Non-lethal if possible.” He said, feeling almost dirty telling the crippled kid that he couldn’t use his gun to defend himself. It was true that he had that arm brace, but anyone with a gun was going to obliterate him. “Actually, why don’t you fall back a bit and see if you can’t get us a ping on where the others are at tonight, eh?”

Humanity gripped at his stomach, slightly off to the side as he shook his head. The wound wasn’t fresh, but it still felt as if it were. It felt like he was still bleeding there on the ground. He began to shudder as his breathing grew shallow. His mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton, drying out as his saliva felt thick. His heart began to race and he shook his head, trying to wrack his mind back to where it should be. After a moment he looked around, shooting his grappler up to the nearby roof and allowing the motor to take him up. He swung a leg over and rolled onto the roof. Pulling the hood over his face he ripped off the mask, gasping for air. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a small sleeve with ten small yellow pills. Taking one into his gauntlet, Humanity put the pill under his tongue. It would be disgusting, but it would take effect faster.

"X, hurry up on that report." He said, it was obvious that his mask was off as he spoke this time, but he muted himself again before his gasps for air could be heard.

"We're dealing with a small militia here. I just took out three with a stun grenade. Got'em bound up nice and tight. There's news that there's a few people wandering around Chinatown that don't fit in. Then you got the warehouses that are crawling with people. Are you sure I can't pick off one of the little sick ones? I'll just twist their arm a little..."

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Re: Alert: Deadman Tell no Tales

Post by Charlatan on January 16th 2019, 12:56 am

Chaos and smoke composed the scene around him. Gunshots ringing out in the distance as he moved through it. Kneeling and pressing his back against what felt like a parked car, bullets whizzing past his head, some even an inch away from splattering his brains across the street. If there was one thing that he had on his side it was luck. A very thing that stopped him from getting splattered across the walls like many vigilantes who were less than lucky.  Might have also been the fact that he was aware of his own human frailty, and what he couldn’t take. Good ole Sparky was heavy within his hands, this wonderful weapon composed of solid wood and a few wires wrapped around meant to transfer the nasty current. ”This is a nasty little circumstance we got goin on here.” He muttered to himself, heart hammering within his ear and likely dangerous individuals just beyond his budget barricade.

Something was happening over the comms, however that seemed between Humanity and Drifter. Not something that he wanted  get himself put in the middle of regardless of where they were in the conflict. Taking a few, measured breaths he rose from his crouched position and turned to what looked to be people running through the streets. All of them carrying automatic weapons in their hands and quickly he crouched again, knowing they could probably do away with him in the pull of the trigger. The mental image was not exactly the most pleasant of things but he had to do something. A few more breaths and he ducked out into an alleyway, still pressed against one of the walls while working through the more complex portions of a plan.  Considering his not killing rule, he wouldn’t be any good near Humanity anyhow, and likely would get in the way.

If only he were a bult thirty something year old with a dead parent complex and years of martial arts training. Honestly that sounded pretty good right now, minus the obligatory cat based love interest. Could have made his whole thing much easier. Stepping out one of those alleys, he was free of smoke but well within the sights of one or two of those trying to...well start their own revolution. Weapons were quickly pointed in his direction and bullets impacting brick as he pulled back. There was no looking back, just running away from the sound of gunfire which  quickly cut off once they realized they weren’t going to hit him like that.  Perhaps they would chase him, or perhaps they would try to punish the 1%. Hard to figure out really, though he didn’t want to think too hard on the concept.  Perhaps he could meet up with one of the other vigilantes and get them to help him. Two were always better than one.

Ducking to the side he heard more gunshot, metal dumpster slammed into as they proved they were chasing him.  Great. Now he had people whipped into a frenzy trying to turn him into a gory representation of swiss cheese. Digging around into his bag and pulling out a jolt cola, he frowned, before putting it back and digging around.

Dr Chili. No.

Cola. No.

Lemon lime. Yes.

Shaking the can up as much as he could, Charlatan ducked around a corner and chucked the can back. Hearing someone curse before a loud sound followed, a bright light flashing from where he threw it. Should give him a few minutes at best to escape, so he ran as quickly as his little legs could carry him before he paused at a corner. ”Hey, anyone mind offering up some back up?” Looking to a sign, he hummed.  Giving the information of where he was. Cross sections really but then again this whole thing put city life on a hold for a little bit. ”Preferably soon. Have a few bogeys with guns that don’t quite like me.” He didn’t want to waste too many of his gadgets, which meant being frugal overall. Sliding  behind what looked like some kind of food cart thing, he counted over his cans. Slowing down, he realized that his leg hurt and looked down to see a small graze. Fabric broken and a small amount of blood flowing from it.
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Quote : "Now I don't believe men are born to be killers, I don't believe the world can't be saved."

"I'm a loser baby so why don't you kill me?"



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