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The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only

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The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only Empty The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only

Post by Sul-Fury on December 8th 2012, 10:16 pm

He had been staring at the docks for some time now, leaning against a wall of a building within sight. Seemingly the largest object that could slightly support his massive weight. Previously he had been given information that it was abandoned, but now it was airtight with robotic security androids. They weren't intelligent looking, but they did have rifle-like firearms and sufficient programming to protect the cargo. Rumor has it that Hurricane was seen recently at the docks, yet now he was nowhere to be found. Sul had been trying to get on his trail for seemingly an eternity. This seemed like his best lead in a while, though he was unaware that the dangerous Metahuman had acquired a new form of personal protection. It seemed as if he were getting stronger every time he made an encounter with him, and yet he still stayed anonymous enough to fade away from authorities before they could identify him as a dangerous mind. Just what he was up to, Sul had no idea. He wasn't sure if this was even Hurricane's handiwork or not. He could be butting into someone else's business.

A gut feeling perhaps was telling him that it was what he was looking for. The transportation ship at the docks was stacked with several wooden crates, yet none of them were painted except one red crate that was labeled "Marine Pollutant", with a picture of a large X over a fish. What could be in the crate wasn't meant to be tampered with. Robotic personnel were patrolling down the docks repeatedly. Nothing was going to get through unless he could somehow convince a robot of a necessary inspection or take them by force just to open a crate. He didn't want to take that route and look like an idiot though.

Hmmm.. Sul-Fury thought loudly while scratching his chin with a large hand. The contact of the two forces colliding sounded like dropping a bowling ball on the ground. He repeatedly shook his head not sure of what the outcome would be if he tried to go anywhere near the cargo. His safest bet might be to try and get another boat to follow its course to see where the cargo was going. But that would take him far away, and he had little resources of getting a boat to follow them, or a ride back to the port in Maine. All of it was a conundrum that continued to puzzle Sul.

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The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only Empty Re: The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only

Post by Brorschach on December 9th 2012, 2:51 am

Isaac sat down at the table closest to the ocean, he enjoyed listening to the waves crash against the wooden beams that made up the pier-turned-balcony. The area was the site of a small carnival resembling the ones you might see on Coney island prior to the majority of New York being reduced to rubble. Isaac wasn't too broken up about it though. He'd traveled far since he woke up and one city was as good as the next in this time. When he'd 'left' New York all those decades ago it was much smaller, though no less busy. The hustle and bustle of the city streets continued on without him as the city slowly expanded, not just in size or population, but in presence. When he'd first arrived, all he could here about was New York, about how most of the super humans dwelled or fought there, about how that was the base of everything for anyone who wanted to be anyone. Now in the destruction following what the papers had dubbed 'The NYC Assault' everything seemed to have spread out, as if the city had just been one giant volcano ready to spew its contents all over the country. Isaac was in Maine to visit the grave of his mother Danielle. She had been loving -if strict- in her life and had instilled Isaac with almost more discipline than his father had after her fashion. If not for her his non-combat areas of life would have suffered greatly. Prior to her teaching he could barely make a sandwich, now he was one of the best chefs this side of the nation, although he had no aspirations to do anything with his talent. Not so long as his mind was fragmented, scattered, out of his hands.

'Isaac, we talked about this. Your mind is still your own, we simply have the pleasure of dwelling in it' It was Nash, attempting his ever present diplomacy with an air of smooth charisma that seemed to broker no argument... well, not from most people.

Normally Isaac would have apologized or even agreed with him but today he was feeling a bit moody. The cloudy skies left him feeling depressed and brought about the very edges of a cold. His headaches had only gotten worse since he came to this dreary state but he would not leave until his business was concluded.

Sighing to himself, he mumbled a reply to Nash.

"Shut up lover boy, I'm not in the mood for it right now"

Then he heard it, a psychotic chuckle that seemed only barely restrained, as if letting it out might cause the source of the amusement to suddenly cease. In this rare case, it was right. Isaac had no intention of entertaining Nolan, he was almost as bad as Azrael, his only redeeming trait was that his acts of mayhem and insanity weren't focused. Rather, they were static and could actually wind up causing fairly little harm so long as Nolan was entertained. Nolan's choice of appearance had never made sense to Isaac, for when Nolan took control his face became deadly serious, deep tear lines going down the cheeks and long gray hair all framing eyes that carried deadly intent. It was as if he wanted to project an air of an assassin, cold and efficient; only to forget it moments later as soon as he saw someone. The dark look of solemn thought would disappear beneath a smile that looked more at home on the Cheshire Cat than a human's face.

"Shut up Nolan, I can't bother with you right now" he whispered, looking around nervously. Would the people there see him muttering to himself like some sort of mad dog? It appeared not as they seemed uninterested in the world around them. Perhaps the weather was having the same oppressive effects on their moods as it was on his.

Isaac's moment of contemplation for the matter was quickly shattered as Nolan began one of his tirades.

"Listen bitch, you may be the first guy in here but if I'm being forced to ride shotgun in this wreck of a vehicle you call a body, I'm gonna fuckin enjoy myself, got it you worthless shit sack." he said, phrasing it as a question. Isaac had been through this before. Nolan didn't want an answer, he wanted you to respond just so he could cut you off. Isaac took the high road and remained silent. He wasn't going to play the lunatic's games today. Then he heard a voice -a real one- and looked up.

It was a waitress, there to take his order.

"What can I get for you sir?" she asked cheerily. Her outfit was concealing but tight enough to notice definite curves hidden below the fabric. She had long auburn hair tied into a ponytail and wore a sun visor that screamed 'Not allowed to remove while on duty' all over it. Isaac turned and fumbled with the menu for a few seconds, his mind hadn't even considered actually ordering lunch.

"Well I'll have the uh... Oh, yes I'll have you go down on my cock you sexy skank. How much you charge for a doggy bag? fifty, sixty bucks? Shit I make that in an hour. Come back to my motel room and I give you more for one night than you'll make working at this shitstain in a year" Nolan had taken over mid sentence. Isaac had been too distracted to stop him and so shot his hands up to his mouth. His eyes stared apologetically at the woman even as he saw the rage building in her adorable features. There was no way he could explain what had occurred, not only did it sound crazy, but even if she believed him, that would mean he was crazy! Isaac coughed and uncovered his mouth, managing a weak "sorry" before one of his hands shot to the woman's ass and squeezed.

'ah crap' he thought as the blow came. The woman had slapped him across the face. It stung like hell even through his super human endurance. He sincerely wished his could kill Nolan right now. While he had intended to walk calmly away, he appeared to be doing more of a dead sprint away from the location. As soon as he got to the parking lot he jumped in his car. It was a rental -and an old one at that- but it suited his needs. Sighing, he buckled up and started the engine. Then he felt it, a niggling little worm in the back of mind. Nolan wanted control.

"You shouldn't have ignored me bi-atch, now I'm gonna make you ride shotgun while I show you what this body can really do" Isaac said aloud, though it was Nolan's voice that came through. His face began to shift, growing slightly longer as his hair grew and lightened until it was a soft gray amidst chin length locks. A smile spread across his face that seemed impossible for the human facial muscles to even achieve.

Nolan was in control.

"Mine now bitch" he chuckled. He didn't just mean the body. Looking over, he saw a Ferrari parked not ten feet away.

"Always wanted to drive one of these fancy bourgeoisie cars. I'm sure the owner won't mind donating such a fine piece of automobile ass to a poor working class shmuck like me" he said in a sing song voice as he kicked the rental car's door right off the hinges. Tearing the belt Nolan popped the hood and began fiddling with the components, his intent mysterious to any observer but a trained demolitions expert. Once he was done the inside of the rental's engine looked like something out of science fiction, all hooked up to a single wire that was slowly being lowered by gravity. Once the wire hit metal the whole thing would blow. A giant shrapnel bomb that would make a sick explosion. Nolan's grin grew even wider, somehow breaking whatever limit the body imposed on itself. Walking over to the Ferrari he tore the roof off of it and hopped in.

"All righty then, time to make this piece of junk a little more user friendly" he chuckled as pulled out a piece of wiring from his pocket and stuck in the keyhole. A few twists here, a prod there, and next thing he knew the engine was purring.

Nolan pulled out a pair of sunglasses that he had somehow acquired and donned them.

"Let's roll" he yelled as he kicked the gas pedal and allowed the car to shoot forward, the sound of squealing rubber intense and omnipresent. As he drove away, capping the speedometer in a matter of seconds, he glanced at his rear view mirror.

"3. 2. 1. Blam!" he said as the wire finally touched metal, causing the rental car to vanish in a torrent of flame and smoke.

Nolan resumed looking at the road, enjoying the feeling of the wind in his face.

He drove for what felt like hours, having turned the radio to a heavy metal station and singing along to any song he recognized. Eventually he noticed that he had entered a warehouse district, the ocean nearby once again. Checking the gas he saw -much to his dismay- that it was nearly empty.

"Oh well, I get banging her this hard for this long does get a little tiring" he said as he leaned back, releasing the wheel.

'What the hell are you doing Nolan' Isaac's voice echoed.

"Ah shut up and stop worrying. Just enjoy the ride bitch" he sneered as he closed his eyes and felt the car smash into what he assumed was a shipping crate. Then again, he was never able to confirm it as within seconds he was airborne. Was he going to die? Nolan doubted it, the speed he was going right now barely topped his own jogging pace. Then again, whenever he jogged he - Oomph. He had hit something.

Nolan collapsed on the ground and looked up. He assumed he had hit a wall. He was wrong.

"What in name of sweet fucking christ are you supposed to be? Andre the giant's retarded brother?" he quipped as he looked up at the large, grey skinned man.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I.N.S.A.N.E.
Spoiler:
The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only INSANEsGrid_zps6d305827


Blackwing
Spoiler:
The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only BlackwingsGrid_zpsc68c380c



Blame Jack

"A man who barely maintains an armistice with himself has no business poking about in a foreign soul"
Brorschach
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The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only Empty Re: The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only

Post by Cornelius Caster on December 9th 2012, 8:09 am

The combined pitter-patter of quick, light footsteps and the squeaky mischievous giggles of a young child echoed across the hidden cobblestone street, sending pigeons sprawling into the air. The chubby birds flapped with all of their strength as a tiny brunette figure bobbed up and down, squealing at the top of her lungs as she bolted after the airborne scavengers. A rich voice called down the alleyway, quickly followed by the sound of the rhythmic tapping of a ornate wooden cane against a concrete walls, slowing the small child down until she spun on her heels with an exaggerated grin on her face. The child giggled, spinning on the tips of her soiled bare feet before hopping up and down, alternating legs whilst she did so. "Dépèche toi(Hurry up!)"she squeaked, doing a little dance as she waited for a rather spritely looking fellow to catch up with her.

"Amélie dearest, we don't want you causing a racket now do we?"the silvery haired sage grinned, his suited body gracefully hobbling over to the little gypsy before patting her rather unkempt hair. Striking his grand beard the jolly looking man stretched, keeping his weight on his cane before letting out a deep sigh. This dapper gentleman, a true figure that embodied classic style was none other than the famed military strategist and philosopher, Cornelius Caster. A man renown across the globe for his shrewd mind and love for heavy alcohol the famed Caster Patriarch had finally managed to avoid the press harassing the family mansion for interviews off him. His little companions, a candy obsessed pickpocketer and a talking badger had grown weary of hiding away in the vast maze like mansion. At the first opportunity to escape the hordes of nosy journalists he was whisked out of the mansion by hopping into a pizza man's car, not forgetting to tip the kindly fellow well above the usual of course.

Their adventure had taken then miles upon miles, spontaneous adventures abound as they hooted and hollered like a travelling circus. Bernard had opted to find a nice hibernating spot amongst the redwood forest, assuring both Cornelius and Amélie that he'd make his own way home after the winter had ended. Eventually, the duo had found themselves in Maine, completely comfortable with the shift to the seaside. The smell of salt within the gentle gusts of wind licked at their skin as they travelled amongst the recently lacquered wharf. With content grins and a hop to their steps they would have appeared like a grandfather and his energetic granddaughter...completely normal aside from the ridiculous magic that coursed in them.

"Hmm I wonder if there are any Ethiopian restaurants around?" the spry gentleman said aloud, furrowing his brow as he ran slender leathery skinned fingers through his luscious beard.

"Je veux de la crème glacée(I want ice cream!)", the plucky child squeaked, hopping up and down like an elf on ecstasy. Such an indulgent demand, one which made the elderly fellow chuckle with hearty amusement.

"Oh alright, let's take a gander and see what we shall we!", he warmly smiled, tapping his cane twice before taking a grand stride ahead, on the search for something sweet. Their expedition alongside the wharf allowed full view of the water lapping against the little motorboat a lining anchored to a halt. Seagulls squawking overhead fluttered against the salty wind, their lithe white bodies sprawling across the blue sky like panicky clouds trying to stay afloat. It was quite an entertaining scene watching the birds diving and swooping at any stray piece of human food, such unhealthy animals they were.

"Now there must be a vendo ..oh my sweet beard!", Cornelius gasped, silvery eyebrows rose in surprise as he witnessed a rather sleek car hurtle towards a shipping container. The resulting impact sent a shock wave into the surrounding area, bathing the air in a momentary heat wave before bursting into a plume of smoke. The driver was thrown out of the vehicle like a rag doll and what many assumed to be a dead man rose to his feet and dribbled on like a mad man. "How curious.."he mumbled, clenching his jaw before taking a confident stride in the direction of the twisted metal carnage. It would be the kind thing to see if the man was injured or not...nothing like a cracked skull before lunchtime!

Amélie had opted to follow the spritely pensioner, clutching the corners of her little coat as she advanced forward, unperturbed with the high impact accident. Before they could get any further a rather odd looking metallic figure blocked their path, a robot...or something similar. Cornelius was a man of magic and ideas, any sliver of technology and the newest 'smart-phone' were completely vague terms for the rather old fashioned gentleman and having a tin man block his way was well, a rather amusing experience. Scanning the autonomous aluminium android with a scrutinising gaze the dapper fellow concluded that it was more than likely a 'high tech' piece of machinery compared to all the other fancy gizmos that everyone was so obsessed with.

"Well I can't say I've never spoken to a robot before but you sir/madam are quite a stony individual indeed. Might I ask for directions to the nearest ice cream parlour? Is that how it works I uhh ask a question and you give me the details..?" he chuckled, slightly flabbergasted with the whole idea of asking a robot for directions.

If only the infamous magician knew that this machine was not an apple product or that his little French companion had wandered off...in the direction of a bright red crate...

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
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The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only Empty Re: The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only

Post by Sul-Fury on December 9th 2012, 11:35 am

An explosion distorted the scene as a shockwave rippled through the air. Sul could feel the impact of the sensation in his chest, and a vibration at the soles of his feet. The driver of the vehicle came hurdling towards his direction as he was propelled out of the vehicle, slinging the poor soul directly into the heavy rock mass known as Sul-Fury. Collapsing to the streets, Sul wasn't really sure what to do. He assumed that he was dead, which proved the importance of wearing seatbelts. However the man's head darted up and spat out an insulting remark. However, not something that Sul wasn't used to. Leaning over with an outstretched hand, he attempted to grab the man by the back of his shirt and lift him to his feet.

"Not really. My name is Sul." he said calmly in reply to avoid the obvious confrontational question. He glanced over to the docks though as the patrol units were in high alert. In fact, most of them were leaving the boat to investigate the car wreck. Two of the armed units, all of which were SNK Mark VI units, came closing in on their direction. Not intent on harming them, but making sure they weren't a threat to the shipment. Upon reaching the two, one of the robots blurted out: "State your name and business!"

The other droid that accompanied him aimed its rifle at Isaac. They weren't sure what was going on, but they wanted it to desist immediately. Sul wasn't sure how to respond. He was trying to think up of a reason to be where he was. "Uh, my name is Franky, and I was just helping this guy get to his feet.", was the best thing he could come up with at the time.

On the other side of the docks, a squad of four robotic guards came to investigate the car wreck to see if it was a threat to the operation. In which they were intercepted by Cornelius, a well distinguished individual though unknown to them. The other three inspected the car wreck while Cornelius was busy asking the fourth about an Ice Cream parlor.

The droid's head swiveled left to right as Cornelius spoke, but he didn't have the answers the gentleman was looking for. It was unfamiliar with the area in which it was stationed. Instead, rather, it gave a generic response. "Data unavailable. Please disperse from the area."

Meanwhile, the young girl was making an advancement on the red crate. One of the robots that were investigating the destroyed vehicle noticed and began giving chase before shouting at the girl. "Halt! That area is restricted! Halt or deadly force shall be used!

Some of the robots stationed on the boat overheard the warnings of the distressed robot and scanned the girl over for weapons as she approached them. Not locating any, they tried to use their off-hand which wasn't placed on the firearm to try and grasp her by the arm before she could reach the crate.

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The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only Empty Re: The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only

Post by Brorschach on December 9th 2012, 8:24 pm

Nolan growled as the giant man who appeared to be made of rock lifted him up like some sort of child. The man had a slight odor about him that Nolan was deeply familiar with. Sulfur. It was a smell he enjoyed, mostly because it meant an explosion was not far behind. Nolan loved explosives due to -among other things- the instantaneous alteration of a pristine structure to little more than melted slag. The stark difference was beautiful to him, almost as beautiful as the look on people's faces when they saw it. Shock, fear, sadness. All of them paled in comparison though, when brought up against the pain of the one who had built the structure. That image of all their years of hard work undone in a single instant was so soul-crushingly hilarious that the mere thought of it caused Nolan to chuckle.
He heard the giant rock start speaking, telling the robot that had sauntered over unnoticed that his name was 'Franky'. Nolan doubted that was true. The explanation itself sounded forced but more than that, the rock's delivery was far from perfect. He didn't put enough stress on his voice when giving his name, coming across sounding flat and hollow. He didn't sound like an innocent bystander just helping a guy out. Then again, he was a giant rock, so that might be influencing Nolan's ability to believe him to be anything but some sort of experiment gone horribly wrong.

"Name's a little ironic don't you think ya giant fuck? You look like a monster and so you call yourself Franky? Boy you must be the worst liar in history because I can see the bullshit practically plastered all over your face" he said, drawing his fist back and punching the larger man. The force of the impact brought an undeniable pain to his knuckles. So he didn't just look like a rock, he was built like one too.

"Agh, fuck me man. What in the name of sweet tittyfucking christ are you made of?" Nolan hissed as he flapped his hand about. The pain was quickly subsiding, but the rage brought on by the pain was not.

"Yo, C3PO. How bout I kick your ass, since 'Franky' here is essentially a tank with legs and therefore falls under the category of 'shit I need an even BIGGER tank to blow up'" he said, spinning swiftly on the last words, his kick sending the robot's head off in a whirl of shrapnel and sparks. It was an unnecessary act of hostility that somehow managed to make him feel better. As if the sound of wires snapping and metal being sheared away from the kinetic force of his blow had somehow vented his anger. Just then he noticed that the thing had backup, though they appeared to be ignoring him. focusing on a little girl who was running at a bright red crate. Nolan looked at the girl, a tiny thing that couldn't be more than ten years. A few yards away stood an old man dressed like someone out the 1800's. He had a massive beard that just screamed to be set on fire... but Nolan ignored that. Something else had caught his -admittedly hard to keep- attention.

Now he might not be the most socially adept person, but Nolan could tell when someone -even a robot- didn't want someone else in their shit, the way the robots spoke to the girl, threatening lethal force if she didn't stop running to the only thing even remotely interesting in this place... we aside from Nolan himself. He was the most interesting motherfucker around. Wait a minute, why the hell was the girl more interested in a shiny red crate than his awesome presence. She certainly wasn't paying attention to the talking rock and he was the only other thing that could even compete with Nolan's pure animal magnetism. His signature grin spread across his face, a psychotic grin more at home in a Picasso print than a human face. He was gonna find out what in the hell could be so much more enthralling than the chance to meet him. HIM! He was the Nolan. Abandoning his position near the man, Nolan ran past the robots, ignoring their prerecorded death threats and landing atop the container. He squatted for a few seconds and looked down at the gathering crowd. He did so love an audience.

"Well since you gearheads obviously don't want the little girl near this thing, I can only imagine what you'll do when yours truly decides he wants a peek inside" Nolan announced as he drilled his hands into the metallic roof of the container and began to yank, ready to see what the robots were so eager to defend.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I.N.S.A.N.E.
Spoiler:
The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only INSANEsGrid_zps6d305827


Blackwing
Spoiler:
The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only BlackwingsGrid_zpsc68c380c



Blame Jack

"A man who barely maintains an armistice with himself has no business poking about in a foreign soul"
Brorschach
Brorschach
Posting Apprentice
Posting Apprentice

Male
Status :
Online
Offline

Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.

Warnings : Banned
Number of posts : 293
Location : The dark carnival
Age : 27
Job : PsYcHoTiC bAtMaN
Humor : THE MAYOR'S FRIENDSHIP IS A UNIVERSAL CONSTANT
Registration date : 2012-04-17

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The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only Empty Re: The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only

Post by Cornelius Caster on December 9th 2012, 10:28 pm

Cornelius grimaced at the sour turn of events, of course Amélie thought it appropriate to run off in the direction of the machine men. It was Amélie for goodness sake, any nation of proper etiquette around potentially dangerous foes was often blissfully ignored by the sassy child. She had managed to hop up onto the back of the container, giggling with mischievous glee as the awkward machine men desperately clambered up to stop her childish antics. Squeals of delight erupted form her little pink lips as a large green bubble instantly wrapped around her body. The soft afternoon light illuminated the green bubble as the droids desperately tried to pass it's surprising defence at escort her away from the large red crate. One droid charged at her...only to bounce right off the shield into the opposite direction and into the churning blue waters below.

Letting out a slightly exasperated huff the elderly Caster gave the humanoid bundle of nuts and bolts a quizzical look. A cool draft of air escape his lips as a mischievous grin began to curl across his face. "I'll be damned! Is that a man running at your precious red crate?!", he cried in a ridiculously exaggerated manner, pointing with his cane at the crazed individual who was in fact hurtling towards where Amélie was. Before the droid could even react a golfball sized hole was blown through its head sending the machine sprawling backwards as the sparks flew off its metallic visage. Purple smoke wafted off the tip of the spritely gentleman's cane, sizzling like a hot pan on a stove. "Excuse my behaviour but I must attend to some 'serious business", he chuckled before waltzing off in the direction of the manic scramble surrounding the bright red shipping container.

""Halt! That area is restricted! Halt or deadly force shall be used!", cried an identical looking droid as it sprinted in front of the superbly dressed sage. It's weapon was aimed at Corn's chest, trigger finger ready to pull if the pensioner made any silly move.

"Oh applesauce! Wrong Cornelius unfortunately", the old man grinned before shimmering in the light. In an instant the mirage exploded in an enchanting blast of coloured glass...completely tearing the droid apart and sending it's glass riddled remains sprawling out into the open. The real Cornelius had quickly hobbled past with an amused grin on his face, the remnants of his theatrical doppelgänger sprinkled across the concrete like snow.

Upon the rather startling display of magical theatrics a few more droids sprinted in his direction, their arms raised and 'mouth's chirping with silly orders like 'Halt' and 'Stand down'. Furrowing his brow and flapping his free hand in the air like he was shooing away a fly the sprightly magician pursed his lips, counting three machine-men in his vicinity. "Oh come now..I'm merely wanting my compaion returned safe and sound? Is that too much for an old man or does one need a password to take another step?", he smirked. Although robotics were an acute example of mankind's many successes they still did not possess the same qualities as their creators...such as intuition and perception. For they had not payed proper attention to the little girl who was hurtling straight towards them...force field erect like a bowling ball.

The armed machines had little time to process the magical shield ramming into them, a magical shield which did in fact make a 'BOING' noise. "Peut-on garder une?(Can we keep one?)", the child squealed, hopping up and down on top of mangled bodies of her most recent robotic victims. Even if Cornelius had time to answer he did not pay attention to instant eruption of gunfire nearing the crate that the little pickpocketer had bounced off...it appeared that Cornelius Caster had waltzed right into trouble, all for the sake of some ice cream..

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Post by Sul-Fury on December 9th 2012, 11:14 pm

A blow from Nolan's fist connected with Sul-Fury's jaw knocking his head back and throwing his body into the wall. The bricks easily crumbled from the force of the punch and Sul's massive weight allowing his body to pass through it. His back landed flat against the concrete within the structure in an instant. Though the effects were powerful, he didn't feel any significant pain from the blow. Tilting his head up off the ground he could see Nolan shaking his hand about. He smirked knowing it hurt him a bit to try. But the man was quick on his feet and eager for a fight as he destroyed several of the robotic sentries on his way to the boat. They began to encircle him once he had reached the red crate. Sul threw his elbows back and pounded them against the ground, hurling his body upright and on his feet. Shaking his head and brushing his shoulder, most of the debris came off. From what he can tell, Sul wasn't going to ever get on this guy's 'good side', if he even had one.

"So that's how you are, eh?" he thought aloud.

Moving through the commotion, Sul followed the trail of debris as he made his way to the boat docked at the harbor. He stood just a few feet behind six of the armed robots as they aimed their rifles at the dangerous man standing on the crate. They had almost diverted all their attention away from the girl as she posed less of a threat than he did. As he placed his hands on the red crate, they were wirelessly communicating with one another as the silent order was given to open fire on Nolan. As the metal on the crate was peeled back, the sun shone in illuminating its contents.

A small boy with black hair and blue eyes was the only thing inside. He may have been somewhere in the proximity of 9 years old. He let out a soft gasp of panic, as the robots rapidly fired 7.62mm rounds at their target. Far above the crate so as to not cause it any damage. The young boy threw himself down on the ground and covered his head in fear. Trying to halt the commotion, Sul stepped forward and used each of his hands to grab the barrel of two separate firearms, and squeeze them tightly. The guns seized up, causing them to explode debris into the robots that held them. They twitched and sparked from the debris penetrating their shell before falling to the ground on the dock. The remainder of the robotic forces were dwindling to four as they began firing at all directions. Their aim wasn't at anything specific, they were almost in a panic mode, firing at Nolan, Cornelius Sul-Fury and Amélie.

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Post by Brorschach on December 10th 2012, 2:55 am

Nolan's eye twitched as he saw the little boy inside the crate. The young man appeared to be scared as hell for he was grasping his head and had assumed a semi-fetal position. This was what the robots had worked so hard to prevent the little girl -and Nolan by extension- from seeing. Some pint sized brat cowering in his own sweat and fear just because someone tore the roof off of his current lodgings? Something deep inside Nolan found this hilarious. He had been expecting smaller crates, or gold, or something valuable, yet all that was there a worthless little brat crying out for mama.

"The fuck is this shit? I wanted some goddamn jewels, not a little bitch like you. Da fuck you doin in there kid?!" he yelled, not really looking for an answer. Nolan rarely gave a damn what people thought of him or even whether they responded to his statements, but he couldn't stand it when he had to put up with disappointment. Nolan didn't tolerate disappointment well, just like he didn't tolerate dumbasses, or republicans, or anything for that matter. If Nolan didn't like it, it had to go. It didn't matter how it went, but it had to disappear from his vision, peripheral or otherwise. The entire time he was having his silent fit, bullets had been quashing themselves against him, doing little more than providing his mind with another minor irritant to distract him from his task. What was his task you ask? Kicking the shit out of the little kid who seemed to be the focus of everyone's attention. Dropping down into the crate, he walked over to the boy and leaned down, his hands in his pockets and his pose menacing.

"Okay you little bitch, first I'm gonna tear you a new hole, then I'm gonna fuck that... agh, I'm gonna, shit goddammit you blonde haired little shit, butt out, I got this. No, fuck you, I'm enjoying my, agh. Alright jesus fuckin whores! Will you shut up! Fine, fuck, whatever you can have control. I was done anyway" Nolan said, devolving into gibberish in front of the young man, his rants nonsensical to anyone who only got half the conversation.

His pose began to straighten up as his suit's color changed entirely. Deep set tear lines disappeared beneath masculine cheek bones and the psychotic grin devolved into a soft smirk. The excess hair seemed to burn away as the sun shone on it, changing from a dull grey to a light blonde. The eyes so full of hatred and vulgarity shifted from abyssal black into a mere deep blue that seemed to radiate strength.

The new man spoke to the boy, the last of his predecessor's voice fading quickly as soon as he began, instead of the maniacally edged tenor heard only moments prior, a soothing baritone echoed throughout the container.

"I do so apologize for my compatriot, he tends to get carried away. No Isaac, I couldn't have stopped him earlier. I'm sorry about you losing your rental deposit but do you really think now is the best time for this. I'm trying to save this young gentleman from whatever horrific fate whoever stowed him in this container had in store for him. I'll happily discuss this with you back at the motel now please let me assist the young man" Nash said, mirroring Nolan's own argument with himself shortly before. Isaac had inquired in a rather irate manner as to why he couldn't have exerted his presence more forcefully prior to Nolan absconding with a high class automobile of Italian make. Nash shook his head slowly from side to side and gave a 'what can I do' gesture to no one in particular. Looking down at the young lad in front of him, he smiled softly and put his hand on the terrified young man's shoulder.

"I am truly sorry you had to see that my young friend, but don't you fret, I promise I'll have you out of here in the blink of an eye" he said quietly, not desiring to further agitate the fragile youngster before him. Turning around, he gazed at the door to the crate, it had a complex set of locking mechanisms preventing it from being opened without a proper key. Nash sighed. He did so despise using violence where other more refined methods might suffice. Leveling his foot against the door, Nash pushed, allowing the thing to go flying off. The warm glow of natural light flooded his features, framing him against the darkness inside the crate. Everything seemed to stop for a moment as the loud clang of the door hitting the deck several yards away filled the air.

"Hello everyone, good to see you've all ceased roughhousing for the time being. My name is Nash and I would like to inquire about something. Do any of you fine gentleman have a cellular phone or know where I might find a land line? There's a young lad inside this apparatus who I believe might require a visit to the physician. I haven't the slightest notion of why a human being would place such a fragile young man in such an uncomfortable environment. Truly baffling" he said dryly. He didn't honestly expect the peace to last long, though he hoped one of the men present might have a cellular phone he could use. Else wise he might have to carry the young lad to a hospital himself.

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The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only Empty Re: The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only

Post by Cornelius Caster on December 10th 2012, 8:23 pm

The drastic change in the overwhelmingly rambunctious situation left the elderly gentleman with a rather odd grin on his face. The droids had been quickly scattered by the strange envoy of supers and once the dust had settled and all was relatively calm...the source of the little brawl was revealed, a little brawl for a small boy it seemed. Cornelius' brow furrowed, such an unfortunate position this child was in; lonely, terrified and kept in the container like some feral animal. The elderly gentleman's morality would not allow him to simply stand and watch, what if it was Amélie in that crate? Brushing some debris off his shoulder the silver haired sage hopped over to the insane-not-so-insane fellow who was tending to the child, giving a brisk nod to the sentient rock that stood idly to the side. Such a strange gathering of people it was, but at the moment his concern for the child overwhelmed his curiosity for the heaving mass of stone.

Amélie on the other hand had little interest for the boy, preferring to scamper over to the mangled remains of one of the droids and play around with it's head, squealing in exuberant delight as she tore the wiring out of it's skull. Any loose sparks would have surely been overwhelmed by the shield around her little body...a free pass to get into as many dangerous situations.

Hobbling over to the edge of the wharf the elderly Caster observed the strange fellow assist the child, when only moments ago he was hollering like a banshee with it's testes removed. The mention of a cellphone had him scratching his head, pursing his lips like any old man con fuddled with modernist technology. "I'm afraid i don't...and I assume our rather large friend here doesn't either..", he mumbled, clicking his tounge against the roof of his mouth before quickly glancing over to Amelie, she wasn't in trouble or doing anything remotely harmful to her persons...yet.

Turning his attention back to the quivering child Cornelius gave him a gentle grandfatherly grin, "Hello son, what on earth on were you doing in there? Your safe now", he smiled, quickly glancing over to the rather dapper individual next to him. Cornelius remained wary of this man however...it wasn't considered normal to crash a car, then survive and run off like a madman only to help a child halfway. Truly strange.

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The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only Empty Re: The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only

Post by Sul-Fury on December 10th 2012, 8:56 pm

Widened eyes stared into Nolan's as his lower jaw quivered in fear as he spoke of things he could only imagine what would feel like. Trembling with fear, the man somehow transformed his entire personality in an instant. As if he were fighting himself for a change of mood. It didn't matter at that point, he was frozen stiff and wouldn't respond to Nash regardless of how he toned his voice or presented himself. He was still in shock from the lashing out he had received before. Cornelius encouraged the young boy to speak up. Now he felt that he was in some form of an interrogation. He felt obligated to talk. Nolan truly scared him half to death. The boy clenched his eyes shut and spoke at a really fast rate. Subconsciously his mind told him that if he didn't deliver everything in 5 seconds they would kill him.

"I-I... My name is Adam! I've been on this boat for years and I have powers like you. I'm not hurt, this is where I live and work. They.. They don't mistreat me. They feed me good. Not like there..." He said suspiciously about his past. Apparently he had been picked up from a bad area and brought to work for Hurricane. Whether it was his will or against his will wasn't really specific. "You can't take me off this boat! It's my home now. I have nowhere to go. My boss won't call me by my name. They said it wasn't my name anymore, that my name was Compass."

While the boy spoke, Sul made his way up on the boat. He casually approaching Nash as Compass talked. Though, he hadn't forgotten in the least the character he had just seen before. He didn't care for games, and didn't know what this guy was up to with the kid. Suddenly changing himself into someone else? Nah, Sul saw the same guy who recklessly crashed his car, rudely slammed into him, threw a punch and went on a rampage for no reason other than he was irritable. As Sul approached within close quarters of the two from the side, the man asked him about any use of a cell phone to get the young boy some help. Sul had no phone, but he completely ignored the question altogether and asked exactly what was on his mind. Outstretching his hand, he attempted to firmly grasp it around the man's neck and shoulder area. Not as an attempt to hurt him, but to let him know that he didn't stand for that sort of thing.

"You got a problem, tough guy?" Sul said in a challenging manner, quizzically raising his non-existent left eyebrow.

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Post by Brorschach on December 10th 2012, 9:15 pm

Nash sighed as the man, Cornelius said he didn't have a cell phone. He believed him, not just because he believed that people would be as honest as himself given the chance, but because the old man was clothed in a manner that said he hadn't quite caught up with the times. Nash could respect that, sometimes he found himself longing for a world of more traditional values, free of the hustle and bustle that governed everyone's lives. The boy suddenly erupted in a slew of chatter, going on about things that Nash barely understood. Did he think that the three were there to hurt him? He only wanted to extricate the young man to a physician. He looked deathly ill -at least to Nash-. The large gray man stepped over and put his hand firmly on Nash's shoulder, the pressure on his shoulder stopping just short of causing actual harm. It was a no-nonsense grip. Nash looked up at the man who had called himself 'Franky' and smiled softly, he wasn't here to fight.

"Mr. Franklin, you have quite a strong grip, I'd love to shake your hand sometime. In this day-and-age so many people don't know the value of a firm handshake. As for your question, no I haven't a one. But I suppose that inquiry would actually be directed at my compatriot, Nolan. While I'm sure he feels no remorse, you have my humblest apologies for his inconsiderate roughhousing and foul language that he directed towards you. He can get a little carried away you blonde haired little pussy! Don't apologize to this giant hunka concrete, I'll kick his ass up and down the east co-oh my I'm sorry about that little lapse in judgement. We do try to keep him moderately restricted but sometimes he does get the best of us. We're only human after all." Nash said, feeling slightly embarrassed about Nolan's brief moment of control. He'd been sure Nolan would simply go sulk in his own private corner of their mind before calming down, but apparently he was still edgy.

"Strange, I'm sure he would have gotten all his energy out after his little foray into the illegal world of automobile hijacking." Nash continued to no one in particular, he stared for a few seconds, considering whether he should have been firmer with Nolan before looking back at the large man whose hand still rested on his shoulder.

"As I said, you have my sincerest apologies for his indiscretions. Now, since I -if you don't mind the assumption- assume you don't have a cellular device with which to contact a physician, would you kindly release me from your grip so that I might locate one. This young man is obviously in need of some professional care" He continued, turning to look at Cornelius.

"You sir, you look like a sharp fellow, do you know where I might locate a landline of some sort?" he asked. The old gentlemen's beard was well groomed if plentiful and his manner of walking -as well as speaking- seemed to indicate a high class education. Overall he seemed the type that Nash would get along with.

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The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only Empty Re: The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only

Post by Cornelius Caster on December 10th 2012, 9:59 pm

There's no such feeling of awkwardness as watching an altercation between parties that one does not know personally, especially in the presence of children. Tapping his cane on the ground Cornelius attempted to garner both men's attention, thinking such behaviour was quite inappropriate in front of a boy who looked as pale as a ghost. The sentient rock man surely did have an imposing girth but it meant little to the wily magician, if things were to get any more...physical then he would gladly step in and force them to become friends. "Oh we're not chimpanzees, hush your little drama and tend to the boy. I'm afraid that some more unwelcome machines may come if we are not watchful", he tutted, scolding them like children before bending over to take a closer look at the child. Supporting his weight on the ornate cane Cornelius winced, his war-time injury still causing him some discomfort even though he possessed Fae blood.

Scanning the child with a scrutinising gaze the spry suit wearing master of magic noticed several strange incisions in the boy's skin, alongside a rash and severe lack of colour in his cheeks. One would probably assume said factors are the result of seasickness or an allergy but a nagging sense of worry began to tug at the old man's conscious. The boy was ill and all notions of stopping the two metas behind to him had fizzled into nothing more than petty annoyance. The child was the priority. Okay, let us get you out of here, you need food and medicine..", he grinned, attempting to comfort the child who possessed none of Amélie's overwhelming childish zeal. His need to protect those who remain helpless and defeated in the face of adversity had kicked in and the years of training, both in psychology as well as medicine told him that the child was in no shape to continue in the horrid environment.

"You are safe now. Over there is Amélie...she's a friend and will accompany you once we get you out of here,"he grinned, pointing to the little French thief who thought it funny to wave a dismembered robotic arm in the air like a play-toy.

Glancing over to the would-be psyche patient Cornelius tutted before giving him a rather serious look, speaking in a voice low enough so that the poor child would not hear. "The boy has shingles and is in desperate need of nutrients, all I have is well...magical liquor and that won't do him much other than knock him out", he whispered in his rich voice, giving the child a furtive glance before continuing, "I only just got here a day ago...but if my memory serves me correct then there should be one on the other side of the fishing district. Two kilometres at best", he spoke confidently, his rather impressive memory serving its purpose. The fining district was the most busiest zone in the surrounding area and would most likely house medical facilities for the boy and an easy medium for communication.






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Post by Sul-Fury on December 10th 2012, 10:36 pm

Sul's grasp on the man loosened as he apologized for his actions, and his hand fell back to his side. Whether or not his transforming of appearances and personalities was a special ability or a curse, he wasn't sure. But for now it was good enough. He wasn't hurt, after all. The two of them seemed insistent on getting the boy to a hospital, despite the fact that the boy wanted to stay on the boat. Just where was the boat destined? Hurricane still had not shown up. Perhaps the destination of the boat would lead them straight to him.

"Not so fast." Sul spoke up. Believe it or not, I wasn't just loitering in the area. I'm beginning to believe this operation is by a powerful and deadly Metahuman named Hurricane. That's the lead I got, and I need to get him. He's up to something, and it's only a matter of time before we all figure out what it is. I need to know where this boat is going and how to get there."

The boy's eyes met with Sul-Fury's. He wasn't looking to fight back, how could he? "I won't tell you who's boat this is. And there is no map to get to where this boat is going. It's destination is halfway across the planet, you'll never get there. Especially if you take me off it. And without those robots you destroyed, I won't make it either." he said with a smirk. The boy started to grow some confidence. Despite his illness, he didn't want to leave the boat, because he didn't know how to survive on his own. It was a fear worse than Nolan.

"These crates are filled with science stuff, nothing dangerous. This boat isn't filled with guns or anything. They've been getting shipped to the island non-stop. Here, I'll show you." Compass continued, walking over to open another crate. The contents inside housed several pieces of equipment like centrifuges and chemical processors, crates of supplies like agarose, polyacrylamide, and numerous minor viruses such as influenza. But none of it put any clues together for Sul. He wasn't sure what this was all for. In the captains quarters of the boat, an intangible voice of a robot could be heard, but it was drowned by the noise of the waves crashing against the side of the boat.

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Post by Brorschach on December 10th 2012, 11:20 pm

Nash listened as the man, Cornelius told him of the boy's malnutrition and something he called shingles. It was a term that sat at the very back of his mind, a disease he hadn't heard about since his 'birth' decades ago. The world of tomorrow -or today as it was to these folks- appeared to have much greater medical knowledge than when he was around. Then again, all of Nash's life experience prior to coming here was from Isaac's memories as well as Azrael's premature -and thankfully brief- awakening. The knowledge of great advances in medicine as well as the boys own sudden liveliness were the only reason he didn't immediately insist upon following Cornelius' directions to the hospital. Franky, as he called himself then began to speak, telling the other two of how he was there to investigate an operation of some kind by the metahuman he called 'Hurricane'. Now Nash's own experience with metahumans was brief and rather limited, but given what he had already seen, one with evil intent could be a great threat to mankind.
Then the boy sprang off, speaking in a rather petulant tone and acting as if he could dictate the actions of the three men. It was like someone had taken Simon and put him into the young lad's body. Nash was used to dealing with such things, after all, Simon was essentially Nolan without some of his more psychotic tendencies and -unlike Nolan- he could be reasoned with as long as you had something he wanted, which was more often than not something sweet or some time in control of the body. Isaac always hated giving up control. Nash didn't honestly blame him for it. In Isaac's mind, the other five seemed to be some sort of plague to be cured rather than a wonderfully exciting opportunity to be explored. Admittedly Azrael and Nolan could act in a manner that was off-putting but still, to lump them all together was mildly hurtful. Sighing, he watched as the young man led them to crate after crate, each containing a variety of biological curiosities that Nash suspected were not meant for philanthropic acts. Rather, they seemed to be viruses and pathogens, samples of poisons and organic fungi with toxic properties. This place was no place for a child to be around, no wonder he had shingles and was malnourished. In such an environment he was lucky to be alive. As the young lad brought them to what he assumed was the captain's cabin, Nash heard a robotic voice inside. He glanced over at Franky and Cornelius, pressing a finger to his lip and making a barely audible 'shh' sound. Nash leaned in and whispered to his new acquaintances.

"I have on my person a small device that will allow us to facilitate a silent entry to the room and neutralize any hostile parties contained within. If we should happen to spot anyone not of artificial make I ask that they not be killed. I dislike violence and would not be able to live with myself if an innocent were harmed in the scuffle I'm sure we're about to engage in" he said. Nash had a bad habit of using long words and speeches where a simple sentence would do. However despite his overly wordy explanation, he was fully prepared. Pulling out the sonic disturber Isaac had crafted, he placed it against the door.

"Be prepared gentlemen, once I activate this device, all sound within several meters will be nullified, so do try to watch your posteriors while we're in there" he said, firing the pistol like launcher only an inch from the door. The already quiet 'whumph' of the device hitting the solid metal was muted as a wave of pure sound ushered forth from the disc shaped disturber. Everything seemed fuzzy and distorted for a moment as Nash quickly adjusted to the newly muted world.

Standing up, he bowed and made an 'after you' motion towards the door. He then waited for one of his compatriots to open the door in whatever manner they saw fit.

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The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only Empty Re: The Red Crate (Portland, Maine) - Invite Only

Post by Cornelius Caster on December 11th 2012, 7:04 pm

Giving the boy a quizzical look, Cornelius lightly nodded and allowed the rather precocious child to lead the way. Calling Amélie over with brisk tapping of his cane the elderly gentleman made sure she had not gotten herself in too much mess...or taken anything she wasn't supposed to. A thin layer of grease covered her little hands and her clothes were crumpled from the constant movement but she was otherwise safe from any droid related injuries. The energetic gypsy girl scuttled over to the sickly boy, giggling with cheeky glee whilst inspecting the rather fragile child who only stood an inch taller than her. French gibberish spewed from her puckered pink lips, expecting the dazed boy to catch on...which he obviously did not. Well at least she's being nice..Cornelius thought to himself, lightly chuckling at the two little children leading the trio of super powered acquaintances.

Glancing over at the hulking rock man Cornelius cheerily offered his hand, his beard curling under the gentle grin, "I guess introductions are in order. My name is Cornelius and my little friend over there is Amélie...and you are Franklin?", he questioned, a fluffy silver eyebrow raising in curiosity. The only connection he could find between a rock naming himself Franklin was after the famed President Franklin Roosevelt whose grand image was etched into Mt Rushmore. The very thought made the old man smile as he carefully made his way passed the various shipping containers filled to the brim with intriguing whatchamajingles and thingymajigs. Amélie sprinted in and out of each container, occasionally snatching a little trinket or so...not that anyone noticed, aside from Cornelius of course. But his mind was elsewhere.

Who was this man named Hurricane? It was considered the norm for gifted people to give themselves exaggerated titles and awe inspiring nicknames but the great stone figure uttered the name with such...disdain. Was this elusive 'Hurricane' the owner of the shipments? If so how did he manage to afford such high levels of technology all the while ignoring the little boy's medical condition? These queries churned in the silvery haired sage's mind til the point that he flinched from the sudden penetration of the sound barrier.

A weapon was fired, rather carefully of course and when his mild shock had receded he was greeted with Nolan beckoning him to enter. Oh yes..Age before beauty!", he chuckled, swinging the door out of the way with a tap of his cane. His trained eyes scanned the room, typical seafaring equipment lined the ship's interior ..although the droid laying on the floor with a bullet hole through it's head was obviously not for decoration. "Very curious...", he mumbled, hobbling over to a nearby control panel in hopes of finding any planned timetables for the cargo's journey. "Oh dear...The shipping container's are being exported elsewhere...in twenty minutes it seems,".

"Young man...who else is meant to be here?", he said in a rather serious manner, his brow furrowed with troubled thoughts. Something was bothering him.



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Cornelius Wendell Caster

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Cornelius Caster

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