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i am still alive in love.
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Jun 20, 2016 21:15:43 GMT
Post by deads on Jun 20, 2016 21:15:43 GMT
There's nowhere like Arkham for negative emotion in Kingsport, and the swirling darkness has a new light: viktor has come to Arkham, imbued with the power of the Phoenix. The mob and other various villains who live in Arkham are not happy about this. Neither are the regular people who live in Arkham, for that matter.
This is an event thread meant for 2-3 to characters to fight Viktor. Please wait for the Phoenix-empowered opponent to post first and set the stage, and then jump in. General plotting for the Phoenix fights can be found here, and feel free to Skype and/or PM your thread-mates to discuss how the fight goes. Staff will step in if necessary. |
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- C rank Vigilante
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Jun 21, 2016 2:55:46 GMT
via mobile
Post by viktor on Jun 21, 2016 2:55:46 GMT
The moon shined brightly in the clear night sky, but didn't come anywhere close to the lit up streets and buildings of Arkham. The air was filled with laughter, car filled streets, gunfire, and the occasional cop car trying to pin down a burglar. It was around this time of night that The Boy in Black would make his appearance and move. Upon sensing the Phoenix Force, Viktor soon became lured to it like a moth to a flame. The sheer Psionic power and negativity alone was well beyond his own comprehension, but yet he wanted it. He wanted more than anything to understand the being, his powers filled with a deep unsatisfying craving to feed off of the negativity the Phoenix force held within it. The choice was clear to him. It was either freedom along with a small grant of it's own power, or a swift death in a blink of an eye. Viktor didn't care what would become of the world as long as the negativity would leave.
The moment part of the Phoenix force had entered his own mind, Viktor believed he had risen to something far beyond human. Not only were his own abilities amplified greatly, but a few new abilities had been awakened as well. It was almost a favor for a favor really, divine power for a pledge of eternal allegiance. The mission that he would have to undertake was clear to him. All life and all death, what was built up must eventually be brought down to only build back up something new. That was exactly what Arkham needed and would soon receive. A proper burial of a great city by it's own people and during the midst of the chaos, the Phoenix Force or maybe even Viktor himself would be able to bring order.
That was the purpose for waiting till the night struck twelve. This would be the day of retribution for the city that has sunk so low. Viktor made his way to the center of the city where he hung high in the sky peering down at the busy streets filled with gangs, the rich, and the poor trying to survive. Without even fully tapping into the power of the Phoenix Force, Viktor's mere presence began to shatter windows and turn cars into a bent up ball of metal. The time had finally come though, it was time for Viktor to make the new master of this world proud.
One by one, afterimages began to appear all across the city of Arkham, twelve in total. Raising their flimsy jacket arms to the sky in synch, a shockwave of mental energy was released causing various blackouts to occur across the city. Cries of fear and panic began to spread all across the city, causing commotions of fear and panic. Phase one was now complete, phase two was to begin the destruction of Arkham. Putting up his own quarter mile wide mental barrier, the afterimages began to send out their own enhanced telekinetic powers corrupting the minds of civilians, gangs, and even the police within a one mile radius of each afterimage. Now mere puppets, Viktor let loose prisoners and gangs to go wild among the streets telling them they may do as they please. Although resistance was futile, Viktor began to prepare himself for the oncoming proclaimed "heroes" that would try to stop him.
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life is hard and then you die
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Post by Comic on Jun 22, 2016 0:48:25 GMT
[attr="class","ttop"] I'm gonna fight 'em off COULDNT HOLD ME BACK
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right
behind my back And I'm
talkin' to myself at
night Because I can't
forget Back and forth
through my mind
Behind a cigarette [attr="class","oone"] [attr="class","tbbody"]fuck all, this was insane. comic stayed ducked into the alley for the moment, watching the street go wild with fire and vandalism and rampant fighting, shouting, yelling. she had been on duty a few blocks out, taking rounds to watch a warehous - then the city went quiet, then too loud, all too quickly. that was a sign that shit had hit the fan. she was very vaguely aware of current events; something went down in her home of texas, that she couldn't give a shit about. whatever was happening there, they deserved it. all of them. eyes burning as her line of thought continued, she wondered if that was spreading here, or if something else was going down. marisa pulled her hoodie tight over her uniform. the red on red causes her to stand out. hat down, black cap, covering over her eyes. she walks forward, trying to move between what people are fleeing this. she doesnt get very far before someone - raving, yelling, metal pipe raised - takes a swing. she takes it to her arm with a thud, and responds with a swing of her own. now the owner of the metal pipe, comic takes it upon herself to go deeper in, using the makeshift weapon to defend herself and looking for anyone that isn't completely insane. she refused to take on the term hero, but this was arkham; they looked after their own. the people without powers never asked for this, and they didn't deserve this. MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW |
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Post by The Devil's Advocate on Jun 23, 2016 5:05:06 GMT
 He’d just walked out of an appartment when it started exploding, spitting acrid smoke, and rose up in a tower of flames. The backlash made him jump twenty feet off and slam into the concrete road, taking the wind - and his cigarette off of him.
Morricone was simply checking up on an old friend. Really. Poor guy never had a lot of luck, and pay wouldn’t allow him to have a place to live in a nicer neighborhood. And the Devil’s Advocate liked to check there once in a while, just to make sure he wasn’t dead from sudden “punk came in and stabbed me to steal some dope money” disease. Clearly, he wasn’t, because a single paper on the door said “Interview today in Sentinel Hill, wish me luck!” which had made Morricone smile, and walk out as fast as he’d entered the building.
This is what saved him.
“Fucking son of a bit-” he started, only to be rudely interrupted by his lungs giving up and trying to die. Mentally muttering a swear under his mental breath, he pulled a cigarette box out of his pocket and popped one out - lighting it with a piece of burning rubble that had fallen next to him. Taking one puff out of the smoke made Morricone thank the maker. “As I was saying, Son of a bitch of a cunt of a whore.” He got up and looked around.
Capharnaüm was more peaceful than Arkham. Arkham usually had one drive-by shooting per week, two attempted murders per day, and a bunch of large-scale assaults every month or so, yes, but this was on a whole other level.
No man’s land.
As he ducked and looked for his truck, Morricone was genuinely surprised to see it in somewhat good shape - compared to the other exploded cars around it, this was usually a good sign. “I need to get the fuck out of dodge fast,” he thought as he jammed the key and let the engine roar, “unless I want to get Shish Kebab’d like everything else going to shit around here.” And that’s when he noticed the red-haired, gas mask wearing kid floating in the air about fifty feet up, slagging some shit in the other direction.
“...Oh. So it’s YOUR fault, huh,” Morricone said more to himself than anybody else.
He got out of the car as soon as he’d entered it. The situation had changed. This wasn’t natural. This was deliberate, and directed at the people of Arkham. Bad as they generally were, nothing good could come out of it. So after concocting a small plan in his head, he stood in the middle of the street and lifted his cigarette like an accusatory finger. The blue, electric smoke rose and flickered. He thought up his manitou, and kept its image clear in its head. First he needed this asshole kid’s attention.
“HEY! PUSSY-LIPS! LOOK DOWN AND SEE YOUR BANE!”
viktor, Comic
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- E rank Administrator
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i am still alive in love.
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Jun 28, 2016 11:22:34 GMT
Post by deads on Jun 28, 2016 11:22:34 GMT
Phoenix was not impressed with the quality of those who would dare oppose it, but then again, it was rarely impressed by anything. There were downsides to being a near omnipotent cosmic being, the herald of all-life and all-death, and ennui was only one of them. Trifling mortals, little firefly sparks with delusions of meaning, who thought they could stand against Phoenix were another. It cranes its head to look down at the man who called out to it. It feels something taking shape in his mind. It reaches out gently to shatter it. Comic The Devil's Advocate
Kamui is out of commission, so I'll be NPCing this event thread along. Assume Phoenix has subsumed Viktor entirely. RIP. |
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life is hard and then you die
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Post by Comic on Jun 30, 2016 2:29:26 GMT
[attr="class","ttop"] I'm gonna fight 'em off COULDNT HOLD ME BACK
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right
behind my back And I'm
talkin' to myself at
night Because I can't
forget Back and forth
through my mind
Behind a cigarette [attr="class","oone"] [attr="class","tbbody"]marisa's knuckles are coated in blood. not her own, fortunately, but she is getting sick of fighting off people who have no business coming at her. give her someone with powers to fight, not... people who pose no threat, people who have no choice in the matter. she hated this mob shit. comic eventually stumbles out of her current alley shortcut to the scene of watching a weird-ass man yell at the thing floating in the sky. this meant two things to her upon seeing it all and taking it in. first, this might be where all the weird is coming from. second, fuck all of this. she couldn't punch people that could fly, and as far as she could discern, punching this man would be like punching the elderly, and she did her best to avoid that most days of the year. instead, she prepped back, pulling the tire iron as far back as she could before chucking it up at the flying man. she hasn't thrown anything at this kind of arc before, so in all likeliness she expects a miss, but that wasn't the point. to even the field - she has no idea if this weezer is any good, either - she kicks up an abandoned shoe, grips it tight, and chucks it at the magician's head as well. she just wanted its attention, to get it down here; she just wanted his attention, to get him to stop. "hey, tonto," she begins, shouting at the man giving off the smoke, the vibes, "what are we dealing with here?" her voice is a growl, a scar on ears, because she is mad, she is pissed, and she desperately wants to sink her fist into something other than a victim. MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW |
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Post by The Devil's Advocate on Jul 1, 2016 6:26:23 GMT
Morricone took the shoe at the same time that he figured out the gig was up, and that whoever once lived in this floating body was long gone, only to be replaced by a singular force of life, death and rebirth. Or at least, a part of it. The shoe jumbled his mind, and, well, woke him up from a mix of rage against the being and blind bravado.
He still hadn’t forgotten the last time the Phoenix Force had touched his life - they’d saved children, but they hadn’t managed to save the few blocks in that radius. And some of his friends had died doing that. And that fueled him to be stupid, and maybe death would come, but at least he’d have atoned for sins he was running away from since that day.
The shoe changed that.
The Devil’s Advocate reeled from the blow and spun around, trying to catch his balance - and he saw the redhaired girl, and he heard her voice, and he’d heard her plea - and as he felt his brain being set on fire, he shielded his thoughts to avoid the damage - as a few summoned mystical hands englobed his head in a giant globe of sorts, trying to keep the influence at bay. It gave him a headache to try and shield himself like that, but, fuck it, right? I mean, whatever.
“...Wait, you shouldn’t be here!”, he said to the girl, doing his best to look like he was fine. “Run! This is dangerous!”
Running towards the girl, he pushed her behind an overturned truck and joined her behind it - using it as cover as he took a few seconds to look at her with more detail. He recognized her as a somewhat small-time villain - but right now, considering they were seriously understaffed, he felt that maybe he didn’t have much choice.
“You’re, huh… Comic, right? I’m The Devil’s Advocate from the Initiative. Now, I’m not out for you - considering the situation, you don’t even make it into my top 500. Hell,” he looked over the truck’s edge and saw the meat-puppet slowly drift down towards them menacingly, “I’m kind of understaffed here. Now I’m sure we both want to live another day, so… Take a deep breath real quick.”
Grabbing her again, close to her own body, he managed to sneak in a simple manitou summoning - and hands made out of darkness grabbed at them, sliding them through the truck’s shadow. He controlled the currents of the “waters”, and pushed them as far as he could from the Phoenix Puppet. They emerged out in a bar about two blocks away, behind the counter - the place had been emptied in a panic, and he pulled the girl out of the shadowy water.
“Sorry about that. Had to get as much distance between that thing and us before he burned us to hell. Now that’s certainly not foolproof: I’m sure it knows we’re here anyways. But we’ve got some distance between us and it, so… Run or Fight, that’s your options. I’m taking a stand and fucking up this guy whether or not you choose to do that or not. But considering you tried to attack it, it’s probably going to want you dead too. No huh… Pressure.”
Comic
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- E rank Administrator
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i am still alive in love.
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Post by deads on Jul 5, 2016 1:07:15 GMT
Phoenix can sense them a few hundred feet away. Plotting against it, conspiring. The flutter of their thoughts isn't distracting, but they're the only rebellion against it in this area. It can feel others of its champions fighting against those who would defy it. The time has come to be done with this group. She steps into the shell of her host fully and burns with a cleansing flame that unfurls outward in riotous growth. Fire sweeps down the block towards the bar where they hide. Comic
Kamui is out of commission, so I'll be NPCing this event thread along. Assume Phoenix has subsumed Viktor entirely. RIP. |
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life is hard and then you die
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Post by Comic on Jul 14, 2016 2:25:58 GMT
[attr="class","ttop"] I'm gonna fight 'em off COULDNT HOLD ME BACK
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right
behind my back And I'm
talkin' to myself at
night Because I can't
forget Back and forth
through my mind
Behind a cigarette [attr="class","oone"] [attr="class","tbbody"]she came up for air in the bar, gasping, anger in her veins. she fumbled to the ground, almost falling flat on her ass as the sensation of murky water left her. she really hated magic and similar sensations, and as she shook off the creeping sensation, marisa pulled up to her feet and grunted as she took in the surroundings. she hadn't yet replied to this smoking joker yet; a lot had happened in a short span of time. He knew her name, he knew something about what she had picked a fight with, and he was going to fight. Marisa slammed her fist down. "i'm not going anywhere 'till we fuck that thing up," she started, looking about the bar. she grabbed at a bottle that still had something in it and popped the top. "look, devil, i don't care much for how you know who i am, how you got us here, nothing, but - i want to fight that thing. can you get it within my range?" she closes her fist, then takes a long draw of alcohol from the bottle before letting it hit the table. "otherwise, best i can do is support you and whatever the hell it is your voodoo can do." from the window, she can see it coming, and her face goes from stern determination to a hint of urgency. MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW |
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Post by The Devil's Advocate on Aug 1, 2016 4:37:41 GMT
”Sure,” Morricone started, panting a little, “I can distract him long enough for you to circle around, but I think this little thing called Omnipotence is going to get in our way. If you give me a few seconds distracting him, I can probably cripple hi-”
The Fires - and he couldn’t think of them as simple flames with how dramatically they flared - broke the door in and spread through the floorboard in dramatic ley lines. Morricone’s eyes flashed open, looked at the flames, at the collection of alcohol near him on the other side of the bar, and back at the Fire.
“We’re not safe here. Why did I think hiding in a bar was a good idea? Fuck me! Fuck me sideways, even!”
The fires licked at his feet, and he instinctively summoned a… It was some kind of superposed phantasm around him, as if he’d stacked an illusion of another humanoid figure on his own. Except it wasn’t insubstantial: the legs kicked the floorboard with a dramatic “crack!” and Morricone flew up to the ceiling, where the hands - attached to shoulder and a torso and head as ghostly as them - caught on to a support beam, where Morricone hovered away from the fire. He didn’t look composed as he slapped at his feet to extinguish the tongues of fire that had started licking up towards his pants.
“The back door! We need to break it down ASAP!”
deads, Comic
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