City of Gold IC Act II

Samson Isiah Jeross.



'Sammy boy'? You know my name? Samson thought to himself as Lynn address him with his name. It clearly means someone has been keeping an eye on the SAMs. It didn't matter to him. Samson looked around, like he was searching for something (Or someone) hidden. They can watch all they want. What Samson is really curious about is why they're here - Next to why the hell Shaun let them in. They must have a reason of some sort of motive here, and so should Shaun.

The chance to get a good explanation of what's going on came when Shaun asked him to come with him into the basement. He gave Shaun a grin, and followed. As he walked, he slid his straw-fedora on top of his head. "On my way." He followed Shaun into the building. Appearing strong, and without weakness, as he didn't want to show these cowards that he would ever falter.



Amanda Daisy Blackmore.


Thoughts were running through Amanda's head. They were usually along the lines of 'Oh f*ck!' and 'What am I going to do?!' Raphael was healing, but it just wasn't registering in Amanda with all the other panic thoughts whirling around. She tried to clear her mind, think of something to do (Because the sirens are blaring, and she got a feeling in her gut they aren't going to help). Until it finally came to Amanda: Call for some f*cking help. Spirit-Amanda pulled the phone out of her pocket with a bit of telekinesis, and placed it up to her ear. She called the one person she knew she can rely on the most: Nikki. Every second the phone rang was torture, even though it was a few seconds, it felt like hours.

The second Nikki picked up, Amanda didn't give her any time to even answer, "Nikki! Nikki! Me and Raphael got into an accident and I need help!"


Nikki Biyung.


A very curious fly allowed Nikki to listen in on the conversation between Shaun, and the enigmatic KINGFISHER. It was interesting hearing Shaun, obviously using his telepathy to his advantage in this conversation. He implied that they may have a sniper outside, Nikki should go find him. Not to attack him, just in case anything went wrong, she would send a swarm of bees and hornets to attack him. Hopefully he won't go into an anaphylactic shock. Nikki was curious to hear more of the conversation, so the fly tailed them.

Nikki was distracted the second her phone started ringing, and momentarily lost control of the fly, which would have buzzed off if Nikki hadn't recovered fast enough. She was standing there with a phone in her pocket loudly blaring techno music. She quickly pulled her phone out, and saw that Amanda was calling. Probably about something stupid. "Ugh..." Nikki rolled her eyes before she answered the phone. Only to be greeted with Amanda quickly and loudly screaming about how she and Raphael got into some incident. She didn't know, Amanda was shouting so loudly that it was hard to listen closely without hurting her ear. This certainly was not Nikki's specialty. She got nervous quite fast, and a panic welled. "Whoa, whoa, calm down!" Nikki was unsure of what the hell to even do. So the best thing she thought of was announcing the situation with Amanda and Raphael and hope that one of them know what to do.

"Guys!" Nikki announced to the group, trying her best to get their attention, "Raphael and Amanda are in trouble!"

Cordelia Lynn

Shauny, darling! Enjoy being in my head. It's the only part of me you'll get inside. Listen, snookums, while you're busy mind-raping me, I have two messages for you. The first is from my associate, who I assume you're familiar with by now. She wants you to know that if you attempt to tell anyone about our connection, or her identity, or in any way move against us personally, she'll deliver weapons of mass destruction to the Skulls and the ACPD. Given that you're so fond of traipsing through my naughty, naughty thoughts, you know it's true. Given your love for science, I assume you're familiar with chlorine trifluoride? Remember, there's a REAALLLY limited amount of air inside Aurum, what with the Dome and all. It would be a shame if a few kilos were sprayed into the open air, wouldn't it? Hence, I can honestly say I'm not afraid of you. You don't have the balls to kill me. You'd do well to keep your lapdogs from taking a bite at me, either. Second, Miss Khan would like to meet with you. I dropped a note with all the juicy details and the RSVP number in those bushes of yours outside.

Lynn leaned back, the epitome of confidence. She was a sheep in the wolves' den, but she was legitimately unfazed. A gentle smile wasn't put on, and her eyes sparkled with the ferocity of someone facing a challenge or playing a championship game rather than being in a center of superpowered, militant teens. "I really have no preference." Lynn, however, was watching. Shaun was a fool if he wasn't perturbed by what he saw in Lynn's head-and it made her curious as to what was in Branson's annoying little skull. Seemed to make Shaun turn over. "Scared, are we?" Lynn murmured, barely audible. "Don't worry Shaun. He's not as smart as you...surely he's not a threat."

Lynn followed the open door, cordially thanking Shaun and rolling her eyes at ALBATROSS' incompetence. Sighs. The ACPD were generally alright, but they had their moments of extreme ignorance. Trying to secretly communicate whilst a mind-reader was on the other end? One such moment. The worst part was that KINGFISHER was the best the ACPD had to offer. Which is why I'm on here. Oh, Leila, I'm glad you don't mind my arrogant moments every now and then. Leila whistled to herself as she looked around the basement, walking slowly and taking in her surroundings. Always smart to know your surroundings, particularly in hostile territory-escape routes, cover, places where you could be flanked or snuck up on....Lynn didn't have the raw firepower to take on the metas here, so she'd need tactics and stealth if things did go south.

"Well, Shaun of the Dead, Sammy Boy, let's get right down to business, shall we?" Lynn brushed some of her hair back behind one ear and leaned back against a wall, arms folded over her chest. In this way, she was close to her hidden piece, but not in a threatening or overt way. Shaun would probably make some comment about this, which was fine. She was one hell of a quick draw.

Miss Khan

The cops opened fire upon the metas, and the metas struck back.

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.

Leila drew back from the window, well out of harms way; and provided an explosive 40mm round didn't burst through the class, they wouldn't be able to harm her with the weapons they were packing. She sat down, folding one leg over the other, and took a moment to ready her thoughts. The fever-pitch intensity of the fighting below? Leila was no psychic, she was not an empath, but you could feel the hatred below, the raw emotion that went into the fighting. It was years of conflict coming to a head. She had to be above that, beyond that. Leila inhaled deeply several times, forcing herself to be calm, to clear the jumpiness of the adrenaline from her mind, to infuse her muscles with strength and her lungs with pure air. She opened her eyes, hidden behind the tint of the gas mask, and rose up. Leila drew the Judge from its holster on her leg, double-checking that it was properly loaded. Leila was in no hurry at all: she didn't really care much if any of the ACPD or the Skulls lost their lives in this conflict. She had no real concern for the welfare of any of Aurum's inhabitants. Moving quickly down the hallway, Leila kept her piece ready to fire. She traversed the building tactically, checking her corners before moving around them and staying away from windows. Leila was certainly one to fight smarter rather than harder-evidence of this being she'd prefer not to fight at all, were it possible.

The fight was truly erupting outside-a young meta, she quickly inferred to be Matt, was conjuring a cyclone of chipped rock and making quite a mess of things. Hm. Sal was nowhere to be seen-likely, he was going through the sewers to flank the ACPD. He had a raw, instinctual feel for combat, but not much in the way of intellectual strategy. Skeleton was throwing cars. The police were playing gunslingers. Everything seemingly normal.

Leila watched the carnage unfold from within the apartment complex, before the sound of footsteps behind her made her divert her attention to her more immediate surroundings. Pressing back against a wall, she listened for a moment before giving chase. Ah, the ACPD. They were attempting to flank the metas by getting some snipers up in a position above them. Briefly, Leila considered letting them go unmolested, but decided the risk to her own person was too great. She gave the SWAT snipers a moment to set up shop, before exhaling slowly.

Leila reached for the doorknob and found it was locked-she paused, waiting to see if the snipers would react to the noise. No...amidst the gunfire of the street below and the booming gunshots of a higher caliber rifle in the room, they wouldn't notice a little doorknob rattling. They did, however, notice when Leila took a few steps back and burst through the shanty apartment wall like paper mache. The sniper turned away from his rifle, eyes widening as the black-clad Miss Khan turned her gaze to him. He reached for his sidearm, as did the spotter, but both were too utterly shocked to react within a second or two-they weren't expecting a gas-masked, trench-coated girl of five two to break down a door.

She raised the Judge and fired twice, putting one round in the neck of the spotter four or five feet from her and the next in the face of the sniper. At this range, the normally non-lethal flechettes (Leila used custom rounds that she made herself) simply killed their targets, rather than incapacitating them. Miss Khan gave it a moment before drawing her knife and slitting both their throats-she really didn't enjoy leaving things up to chance. From her window perch, Leila watched the fight for a moment, deciding this might be superior vantage point. Leila threw the rifle over her shoulder, grabbed a few rounds of ammunition, and then moved down the hallway to another room. Closing the door, she propped a chair underneath the knob and quickly rigged a grenade to the doorknob (she had taken a shoelace from one of the snipers for this purpose).

Leila, while no markswoman, had a great vantage point. Propping the rifle against the back of a chair, she began firing upon the ACPD, waiting for the tide of the battle to turn one way or another.

Shaun and Branson

Duly noted, Ms.Lynn. Shaun spoke back as they walked down the beige halls I believe I'm free tomorrow at around six. I will meet at a third-party location then. Don't bring any weapons. I will know about it. He reached the second-floor meeting room and opened the door, first ushering in the two agents and then himself.

The meeting room was roughly thirty-five feet long and twenty feet wide, with beige walls and a polished hardwood floor. Three dome-shaped light fixtures were affixed to the ceiling, and the long wall opposite the door was taken up by an enormous bay window, framed in wood paneling. The window overlooked the green lawns and towering buildings of the Aurum University campus. The middle of the room was taken up by a long wooden meeting table, with about twenty chairs spread out along its sides. At the head of the room was a smart board, in front of which was a turquoise leather office chair which Shaun sat down in. He gestured with his cane to a few seats at either side of the table. Branson sat down two chairs away from Shaun, out of the reach of the cane. The man's near-supernatural reflexes would still be hard to dodge, but this would give him some chance to go for his gun. Shaun gestured to a seat at his right for Samson, and then folded his hands on the table.

"So," Shaun said "You want the location of the Well."

"You should knock before entering my mind, Mr.Smithton." Branson replied "We want to know where it is, and we're prepared to offer you fifty-five million dollars to get it."

"I didn't need to read your mind for that, Mr.Branson. It's simply logical that you believe I know where the next well is and so you have been sent by your bosses to obtain the information by any means necessary, even if you have to beat me mercilessly and kill everyone I love. Money isn't going to change a thing. I'm a millionaire, Mr.Branson. I don't need your money." Shaun sent a thought-message to Samson that said "If this goes sour, set the room on fire. I had the walls fireproofed for such an occasion a while ago."

---

Raphael and...

Spoiler:

Raphael's eyes fluttered open as his brain completed healing. He slowly lifted his head and propped himself up on his left forearm, groaning in pain once more. As his leg and pelvic bones healed, he stood up tall and looked over at his ruined car.

"Oh god dammit!" He yelled out "My car!" He ran over to the hunk of burning metal that was once his Mustang and fell to his knees, his face looking like a child on Christmas who had just found out that Santa Claus isn't real. Before he could say anything else, the roar of a helicopter invaded the room. Raphael covered his face as buffets of wind from the chopper's rotors roared into the building. The chopper descended to about twenty feet off the ground outside. Ropes descended from both sides, and four people clad in black, not unlike that of ninjas, fast roped down. All four of them wore full combat gear and helmets like that of motorcycle helmets. All four carried assault weapons. A fifth one jumped down from the helicopter and rolled as he hit the ground. He was slightly taller than the others, and wore a black trench coat and knee-high black boots. His helmet was adorned with a gold star above the visor, and his trench coat had gold epauletes on it that displayed his rank. Unlike the others, he wore a suit under the trench coat instead of a chest rig. On the left lapel of the trench coat was a pin that looked like a bird composed of triangles, the symbol of KINGFISHER. The incoming police cars parallel parked on the road outside, stopping the flow of traffic and creating a battlefield. The man drew a two-foot sword from a scabbard at his belt, and with his other hand grabbed a one-handed Skorpion machine pistol from a holster in his jacket. At the touch of a button, the sword erupted in electricity, filling the air with a loud crackling shriek.

[TARGET IDENTIFIED: RAPHAEL JOHNSON. DIRECTIVE: NEUTRALIZE] flashed across the man's HUD display.


Raphael reached into the window of his wrecked car and pulled open the center console, which was fortified to be stronger than the car itself. From this, he produced his own sword, a two-foot wakizashi, and brandished it across his line of vision, ready to fight. Instead of attacking, the police cars parallel parked in the road, clearing the area of traffic and preparing a sort of battlefield.

"Amanda!" he yelled out "Get ready for a fight!"

Amanda Daisy Blackmore.


"Oh boy..." Amanda turned around and voiced a bit of hesitancy in regards to the current situation. The helicopter slowly descending gave her a distinct idea of who was attacking. The Skulls don't have access to this kind of hardware. "The ACPD..." She hissed underneath her breath. Their Elite goons got out of the helicopter, all menacing-like. The ACPD were never very nice. Fortunately, Amanda had already summoned one of her apparitions that wield telekinesis. She didn't really think about what to do. She simply just acted. She commanded the apparition telekinetically pull the weapons out of their hands. The pull was strong enough that it would be next to impossible for them to hold on to their weapons, or they would get pulled over to her.

Boss Fight: The SAM vs. KINGFISHER Agent KESTREL

The guns flew from the hands of the mooks, sending all four of them sprawling, grabbing for their guns. KESTREL, however, did not flinch in the slightest. He looked over at Amanda and laughed. A modulator in his helmet shielded his voice and made it thunderously loud.

"My gear is radiation shielded. Your powers have no effect on me." he roared "Did you honestly think it would be that easy?" The blade began to crackle with electricity once more as Raphael pounced from his hiding place behind the car. Blade in hand, he charged KESTREL head-on. The KINGFISHER charged as well, his wicked blade trailing behind him like an oncoming thunderstorm. Just as Raphael came within striking distance, KESTREL spun around 360 degrees, bringing his blade with him. He parried the blade explosively, his strength obviously artificially enhanced. Sparks flew from both blades, and the sound of the clash was so loud that it seemed as if one of the two weapons were about to break. It was only then that Raphael noticed his mistake. The electricity arcing down KESTREL's blade caught his sword, and the current shot down his arm, electrocuting Raphael. He cried out in pain and pulled back, removing the two swords.

"Oh poor, poor fool." KESTREL taunted "Did that hurt?" Raphael grunted angrily and swung at KESTREL's head. The blade was parried once more, and he fell back, his body alight with streaks of white hot energy. The burns healed almost instantly, but the pain didn't go away. "You may be able to heal from anything, Raphael Johnson, but you can still feel pain. And I'm gonna hurt you." Raphael struck once more, his reflexes lightning fast, but somehow KESTREL stopped him again. As Raphael cried out, KESTREL kicked him in the gut and threw him to the ground.

"How..." Raphael sputtered "Are you doing that?"

"Military secret." KESTREL stabbed down at Raphael, who rolled out of the way. He swung the blade and it struck the flesh of KESTREL's deltoid. Kestrel retreated, blood seeping from the leather jacket. The other four goons ran towards Amanda, sidearms at the ready. They held their guns up and fired in succession, hoping to catch the telepath off-guard.

"Amanda!" Raphael yelled as he struggled to his feet "When is that backup getting here?"

All too quickly, Cain realized the he was hopelessly outmatched, at least for the moment. Anger welled up inside of him as he realized that this was his fault – He criticized himself harshly for every mistake he made, regardless of what it was. In this instance, it was especially bad, as the lives of good men and women were at risk, the officers under his command. They needed to change their tactics, and fast. He had already figured out that there was too much risk just outside the bar – The amphibious monster had disappeared into the darkness of the bar, though Cain knew that a beast like that wouldn’t hide and wait for long. Cain also decided that the Skulls were too strong when they were working together like this. He quickly came up with a strategy, though he would need a diversion, and a perfect one was already on the way.

Cain shouted out the orders to leave the immediate vicinity, speaking in code so that the Skulls would not hear him. The remaining officers began to retreat – One had been crushed by the car that Skeleton has threw at the truck, another by the vehicle that had been blown up by Grease, though nobody was yet harmed by the concrete tornado that Matt had created nor the sniper fire. Cain, his strength augmented by the exoskeleton, was able to use one hand to provide cover fire with his assault rifle, aiming at both Valjean and Matt. A couple others attempted to suppress Leila or used their grenade launchers to create havoc near the bar, now using explosives. As they began their journey down a street to the left, reinforcements arrived, a fantastic distraction from the Lieutenant. The most notable of these, among more officers and vehicles, were a couple of Predator X-4 remote controlled drones. Each was powered by an electric motor and equipped with 50 caliber machine guns and siz sidewinder missiles. The drones provided the majority of the distraction, firing heavily upon the bar and the surrounding area. A missile from one collided with a squad car, causing a massive explosion close to Matt. One of the drones followed Cain in order to provide support when the mutants arrived there, the other two remaining behind to cause havoc close to Skully’s.

As Cain and his forces retreated, they took up positions in stores and an apartment complex that lined the street close to the bar. Each officer was hidden from the street level, and would ambush any mutant who got too close with heavy firepower. They were joined by more officers, reinforcements called in by the Lieutenant, who had taken cover in the apartment building at the end of the street. Guerilla warfare was clearly the superior option in this situation, and Cain would make sure to take every advantage of it.

The Skulls Battle

Spoiler:

"Son of a b*tch!" Skeleton dove out of the way of a missile as it careened into the pavement below. Drones; these ACPD bastards meant business. As they retreated to the building, he walked over to Kylie and said "Grease, let's go. Bag and drag." He began to walk towards the building, assuming she was in tow. As he walked, another Skull joined him, a girl with spiky black hair and a full-leather outfit, save a neoprene face shield that covered her face from the eyes down. She had a two-and-a-half foot curved Chinese broadsword made out of some black metal in each hand, and no less than eleven knives at her belt. This was Claire Sparks, "The Slasher", as they called her. She was the sixth ranger of the Big Five, their rising star and master killer who was known to be the cruelest of the bunch. Her eyes burned with hatred as she ran towards the building, dodging bullets expertly and rolling out of the way of the blasts from the UAVs above. Skeleton ran towards the building at a blinding fast speed. He jumped at the last second and crashed through the second-story window of the building, where two officers were. They didn't even have a chance. Two bloodsoaked corpses collapsed to the ground, their skulls crushed.

Unfortunately, not everyone was quite as bulletproof as Skeleton. Claire somehow found herself pinned down behind a police truck, unable to move an inch lest she be struck by oncoming gunfire. She looked over to Grease, with a look that said "Do something!"

Amanda Daisy Blackmore.


"I was hoping it'd be..." Amanda responded to Kestral's taunt, annoyed. Great. This super asshole is immune to what she can throw at them. On top of that Raphael was getting his ass handed to him. She wished she could help, but she has to worry about herself. Fortunately, she could do whatever she wants to the rest of these fools. They pulled guns out on her, but Amanda knew that they were packing radiation bullets, and she might have well been standing there like a tool. So annoying that she was given these magic powers, but these loons keep finding ways to get around it! Whatever. She ran for cover, and ducked behind a concrete pillar. Raphael probably would have hated her for this, but she had no choice. Amanda's phantasm telekinetically pulled all the doors off of Raphael's car, before slinging them at Kestral with immense force.

Kylie watched as the explosion went off near Matthew, and for a moment she silently panicked. But she figured the kid had something up this sleeve to protect himself, and had been through a lot worst then an explosion. She paused a moment, watching for a sign from Matthew before turning her attention back to the fight at hand. She heard Skeleton call out to her, telling her to get moving towards the apartment. Kylie grinned, giving a mock salute to Skeleton. "You got it boss!" Kylie said, ready to get back behind cover. She ducked behind a car, peeking over to watch the officers shooting at them. She watched as Skeleton leapt into the air, and two dead bodies came back down.

She whistled, unable to resist showing how cool that was. She might not know everything about Skeleton, or his power, but damn he was cool.

Kylie was about to make the mad dash to the door, ready to protect herself with some sort of oily shied, before she spotted another Skull across the way. Claire. Man who couldn't love a badass, good looking, chick with a sword. But unfortunately she seemed to be stuck. If it had been anyone of a lower rank, maybe except for Matty, she would have just left them there to be Swiss-cheesed. But Kylie had a special place in her heart for someone who could be respected.  

She poked herself around the car. Luckily there were only a few people shooting towards Claire and keeping her pinned. Kylie's arm began to liquify, oil generating quickly in the hot air. She swept her arm towards the gunners, shooting small waves of smoldering oil towards their guns. From there, the oil coating the gun and it's interior began to harden, efficiently jamming the guns. And with any luck, if they tried to fire, the sparks would cause the guns to explode. This would be enough for Claire to get out of cover, but Kylie felt like doing a bit more damage.

With the great maxx's permission, Kylie sent out a second wave of oil. This time directing it towards one of the flaming cars. The now ignited oil, still within the control of Kylie, flew through the air and into the apartment building in hot pursuit of the retreating officers. Without checking to see if it even burned anything, Kylie turned to Mathew. "Come on bro. Time to move." Then hurried towards the building, hoping he was following.

Cordelia Lynn

Aww, but Shauny, I can't come and NOT bring a weapon. I am a weapon!

Lynn studied the campus from her chair, half-listening to what Shaun said. There was no way the telepath was going to agree to their deal. The ACPD was notorious for going back on its deals, and you could make a hell of a lot more than 55 mil from the Well. Anyone with half a brain cell wouldn't fall for it, which was why the higher-ups in the ACPD had proposed it. Lynn wondered if there was a second purpose to their mission-perhaps her darling partner was planting a bug or something, or maybe...no. No, that wouldn't work. Shaun would mind-rape them and figure it out within seconds. Unless...

...unless they'd been unknowingly planted. Had a device of some sort put on them that would likely fall off into the house. Risky, and likely ineffective, but she had to assume the ACPD had an ace up their sleeve in regards to this mission, if only so she wouldn't lose that much more faith in them. Lynn sat with her arms folded across her chest. "Truly a beautiful view," Lynn mused, watching the campus from her seat. "However, I can't help but notice you mentioned us coming to you with money and coming to you with violence, and you only claimed that the money would accomplish nothing." Lynn wasn't really one to beat around the bush, and diplomacy was never the easiest solution to a problem in her mind. "Listen, Dr. Smithton, you're a smart guy." Not the sharpest. I know a girl more clever than you. "Fifty five million's not really gonna sway you. If you wanted money, you'd be in charge of the Skulls." Lynn yawned, and it wasn't put-on or forced-she was legitimately, truly nonchalant about the outcome of this negotiation session. "But so far, the gang wars in Aurum have been pretty low key. Problem is, you put a bunch of superpowered killers-because, whether you've taken a life or not, the fact you have those powers has led to innocents dying-or you're one of the ACPD, who, I'll concede, have shed a little unnecessary blood, curbed a few liberties-as most police organizations have throughout history...you can't keep people under a dome forever. Eventually? Things are gonna get worse. Now, at the moment, there's this three-way power struggle going on. Nobody can win. Nobody has the numbers to overwhelm the others. But-if the ACPD could gain control of another Well, the tide would change. Go from a war of attrition to the regular kind. Just as nasty, but it may not be another decade of senseless fighting. I'm aware most of your people don't like us. But you have to admit, people like that lizard-man the Skulls have? Can't blame people for being afraid. You take this deal, turn around and give the money to charity, you'll simultaneously deal a blow to the Skulls and get a lot of respect from Aurum's people. I'm not threatening you, Shaun. I have no need to. Eventually, doesn't matter how smart you are. You can either take a step towards ending things now, with a lot less violence, or you can hold onto your paranoia and watch as all those people tanning out by your pool get killed off, one by one. You're familiar with the gang wars LA had a while back, the kinds of things that MS19 does. Skulls? Skulls haven't gotten quite to that level. Not yet. But pretty soon, they will. You don't want things to get like that, Dr. Smithton. It's not about the money we're offering. It's about our offer in regards to what the Skulls are offering."

Lynn reached-slowly and carefully-into her jacket, and pulled out her piece. She popped out the magazine and racked the slide back, clearing the weapon. She tucked it back under her shirt, into its shoulder rig. "Not bluffing you, here. I'm tired of fighting. Go ahead and scour my mind. You know I'm right."

Big Sal

There was a manhole near the congregation of ACPD trucks and cars. Most of the car doors were opened, used as makeshift barricades, while others were hunkered down behind riot shields or more sturdy forms of cover such as the buildings across the street. Regardless, there was nothing covering that manhole. Well, technically, there was a car over it-but I'm using the past tense for a reason.

The sort of being that one might've considered capable of taking on Cthulhu burst forth from the sewers, sending the manhole cover up into the bottom of the car about a second before it squeezed its way up out of the sewers and flipped the car over, crushing a rather unlucky officer (arguably, he was fortunate, as he was spared the more agonizing death that Sal's jaws offered) and adding a wailing car alarm to the chaos of the battle.

Gunfire almost immediately began to rain down upon Sal, but he legitimately didn't seem to notice. Perhaps it was his power, offering him such a high pain threshold and such resilient skin, perhaps it was his deterioriating mental condition, but more than likely, it was something akin to going berserkergang. Salazar hated the ACPD more than anything else in the entire world, and it was one of the few thoughts that was still coherent within his skull.

He didn't pull any punches. Neither did the ACPD for that matter, but theirs were far less dramatic than Sal's. With assault rifle rounds sending splashes of dark blood and reddish-brown flesh flying off the beast, Sal began furiously assaulting every ACPD member in sight. Open-handed blows sent officers quite literally flying away from him; a few were rather horrifically decapitated, mostly by way of Sal's razor sharp teeth, and several others merely stepped on and killed.

This all within the span of about fifteen seconds, which is a small eternity in a firefight such as this.

Of course, Sal's drawing the attention of the ACPD (which would rather handily provide his comrades, although Sal was only vaguely aware of his affiliation to the Skulls at this point) wasn't very good for the beast either. Within those fifteen seconds, he was drenched in blood, both his own and that of his many victims, and Sal staggered back, caught off-guard by both the rifle rounds that had hit his skull (Sal's hardened skull was difficult to pierce with normal munitions, but it was nonetheless very painful and disorienting, being shot in the head) and the recoilless rifle round that grazed his side, taking off a good chunk of his torso and several of his ribs.

Sal, being peppered with small arms fired, stared at the gaping hole in his chest for a second, feeling a primordial sense of pain. The drive for self-preservation overrode even his ire for the ACPD, and Sal staggered backwards, falling onto all fours as he fell back behind the car he'd initially flipped over. Breathing heavily, Sal let out an agonized scream of pain, his body's regenerative factor struggling to rectify the many, many wounds it had just endured.

That all, of course, before a flaming wall of oil roasted by. Sal was resistant to fire, by way of the gelatinous mucus that covered his skin, but that only worked when he still had skin. His open wound almost cauterized by the intense heat, Sal dragged himself back into the manhole and fell down into the water, quickly diving for the cold-dark of the bottom. Water. Water was good. The pain, near immediately, stopped, and Sal's body began to piece itself back together as quickly as it could.

Any onlookers, however, could likely deduce one thing from Sal's behavior, and short-lived (yet arguably effective) assault on the ACPD-there wasn't much "human" left in that particular meta.

Miss Khan

Leila dropped out of the fight right around the time that people started shooting back at her.

Her loyalties to the Skulls were somewhat shallow.

A bullet cracked next to her.

Lynn was disassembling and reassembling her piece for the umpteenth time, Leila watching her with that kind of curiosity where you're not that interested in what someone's doing, but rather the someone that's doing it.

"Ever think you should practice with this kinda stuff a little more? Your sharpshooting could use some work."

Leila shook her head, pausing for a moment-she'd just shaved her golden locks off, and was still unfamiliar with the way it felt, turning her head and not feeling anything brush against the side of her face. It was strange-several times that day she'd reached back to tuck her hair behind her ear and found nothing but the bristle of a buzz cut to greet her. "I'm as good as I need to be." she quickly added more, heading off Lynn's response before it could form. "I mean, I'm not looking to Annie Oakley her, Delly. Just to be proficient. I can handle the Judge just fine."

"And if you lose the Judge? If it jams?"

"It's a revolver."

"Yeah, and not really a combat-oriented one at that."

"We've had this conversation a thousand times."

Lynn racked the slide back and checked the sights, then went back through the familiar motions again. It was likely the two or three hundreth time that night she'd done it, but the girl could fix any problem with her weapon in the dark. "Fine. Still, your gunplay could use some work. Tactics and such."

Leila raised an eyebrow. "You want to teach me tactics?"

"Tactics, not strategies."

"Yes, I'm aware of the difference. Please, enlighten me, Investigator Lynn."

Lynn rolled her eyes-she loved Leila to death, but loving a wunderkind often felt like death sometimes. "No, I mean you can read about it all you want, but it's no substitute for experience. The little things. The shakes you get when you're fighting, the way your body reacts to an explosion next to you, the different sounds bullets make..."

"Different sounds?"

"Yeah. If they're real close to your head, they sound like a loud crack-type noise. If they're a little ways from you, more of a buzz. Either way, you want to avoid people shooting at you-that's, like, tactics 101, but the former is when they're getting pretty close to you."

"..huh."

Leila ducked back behind cover, recalled the penetrative nature of police munitions, and quickly dropped down low. She didn't trust the shantytowns of West Rail to stop a jacketed bullet, especially if she was drawing the fire of ACPD snipers, who usually brought the big guns to conflicts of this, pardon the pun, caliber. Ditching the rifle she'd picked up, Leila grabbed her revolver and army crawled to the door, disassembled the simple trap she'd set up, and checked outside the way Lynn had instructed her. Coast was clear. If the police was gunning for her, specifically, they may well be sending a team to the building. And with the numbers and-damnit, that was a drone-the ACPD had, there was no sense in staying around. This could very well be a losing battle.

...hm. That roar. Sal. Sal was wounded. Very wounded.

It took Leila about two seconds to figure out where she was headed. Nearest manhole, outside the fight, was behind the building by a block or two. Gas mask obscuring her face and black armor guarding her diminutive person, Miss Khan moved down the stair case, ready to fire upon any ACPD that came bursting in.

The SAM vs KINGFISHER KESTREL

KESTREL laughed at the doors came flying at him. He swung his blade at one of them, slicing it clean in two and sending pieces of twisted metal flying across the battlefield. He did the same to the other doors, and turned around just in time to parry Raphael's surprise stab attack. KESTREL kicked Raphael in the face and wrenched the sword from his hands, sending it flying into the wall of the destroyed insurance office. It embedded itself down to the hilt into the bricks. Before Raphael could move again, KESTREL slashed across his chest with the sword. He screamed as the electricity coursed through his nerves, and steam rose from his boiling skin. KESTREL raised the sword again, this time to strike at Raphael's head.

"I'm gonna enjoy this." KESTREL barked. Before he could swing, however, a mighty wind blew KESTREL from his feet and sent him flying across the battlefield into a police cruiser, which exploded upon its gas line's contact with the sword. Katrina floated down from the sky, riding a miniature hurricane as if it were a surfboard.

"The others are on the way!" she yelled "There's some helicopters on their way over here packing heat. I'll try and knock them down."

"Don't get killed." Raphael replied, rising to his feet.

"You know me." she replied.

"I love you." They kissed, and Katrina flew off into the air. Five helicopters were racing towards the scene, laden with missiles and machine guns- enough artillery to destroy half a city, much less one man. She began to whip up a windstorm, sending the choppers flurrying through the air, at the mercy of her tumultuous winds. KESTREL emerged from the car wreck, a few burns on his jacket but besides that relatively unharmed. There was a hairline crack in the corner of his visor, positioned such that it was quite difficult to see.


The ACPD vs. the Skulls

Now that the street was cleared, Slasher advanced to the building, where she rolled into the lobby, blades at the ready. Two gunmen awaited her, both with automatic rifles. A shadowy figure dropped from the ceiling, and one of the two cried out in pain. Skeleton rose from the ground, his gloves damp with blood. The second soldier held his hands up in surrender, but it was too late for him. Slasher launched one of the swords and it tore through the soldier's body, leaving a gaping hole where his heart used to be. He fell forward onto the wood floor and was dead before he hit the ground. She pulled the sword from the wall telekinetically and it returned to her hand, the blade now covered in a fine bloody mist. Skeleton walked to the door just in time to watch a missile descend on a man clad in black leather. There were no remains.

"F*ck." he muttered "That missile got Jack. Poor bastard." Slasher sighed, but was still silent. She didn't speak anymore. No one had heard her speak for years, unless she was extremely drunk. Skeleton shook it off and continued into the building with Slasher close behind. He stopped at the end of a corridor, waiting for Kylie.

"Grease is sure taking her time." Skeleton commented to Slasher.

"I'm not going to lie." Kylie thought, watching from a safe distance as Mathew cleared the rest of the street. "That was a pretty cool move." She refrained from saying anything that resembled praise to her little brother, she had trouble getting that stuff across to people. Unless she was really drunk. Later, once they were out of the current threat, she might have to whap him over the head for referring to her as 'women'. Despite being his sister she was a still a Big Five. And calling someone women who is filming boiling oil doesn't seem like such a good idea. She watched for a minute as he preformed his little stunt, grinning for a moment when she noticed him smile. "Good." She thought again, not realizing how long she had been standing around. "Enjoy your powers."

Once he touched down on the ground, and Kylie got a moment to bask in how fricking cool that was, she turned on her heel to follow after Skeleton and Slasher. She paused a moment to flinch as a missile went off behind her, slightly whipping her hair out of shape. She wasn't sure who it was, and planned on asking later. As she entered the doorway she could smell the blood, and see the two mangled forms. Kylie took a moment to joke, her fingertips turning to oil as she swept them through her hair. "Man you guys really destroyed them. Sweet." She broke into a light jog to catch up with Skeleton. "Sorry for being slow, I was keeping my eye on Mathew." She said this as if it was really a fault, and in a way it was. She glanced over her shoulder, not wanting to get distracted but still needing to keep him around.

Amanda Daisy Blackmore, Hector Bronson Jeross, & Nikki Biyung.


God dammit. It seems like this guy has a counter to everything she could throw at him, which didn't inspire confidence. She wasn't going to stay here and get her ass handed to her. Now is the time to decide whether to haul ass, or wait this out. The former seemed more appeasing at this point. Just order her ghost-clone to fly her out of here telekinetically, and hope that the hail of bullets won't cause her too much damage. Well, sorry Raphael, I did my best. A rushing wind came out of no where, and knocked KESTRAL right on his ass. That meant.... Katrina. The weather manipulator, and Raphael's girlfriend. That definitely meant... "Yes! Thank you, Nikki!"

Katrina definitely didn't come alone. Hector and Nikki came shortly behind her. A large crack in the ground formed towards KESTRAL almost like something was traveling underground. Underneath their feet, a massive blue crystal sprung outward in the shape of a hexagonal prism. Which would knock anyone off their feet who couldn't dodge flying. This was the work of Hector. Who came charging onto the scene, his entire body was coated in blue crystals. Hard as diamonds, and would absorb the kinetic impact out of any bullets so they couldn't penetrate it. Hector created more crystals around his arm, and carved it in the shape of a industrial blade, facing KESTRAL.

An enormous black swarm of flying came rolling in, it appeared as a flying amorphous black blob. However, an observant eye would notice that some of the flying bugs were carrying ones that couldn't. The swarm dispersed, and all the insects attacked the four ACPD soldiers. Crawling their way into their suits of armor. Nikki was no where to be seen, because she was at a safe distance, since her power had a macro-level range.

Since this was starting to look so good, Amanda couldn't run away now. At least while her cousin's ass is on the line. Amanda took the distraction to absorb her telekinetic ghost back into her body. Seconds later, another phantasm-Amanda was created. This one wielded Metal Manipulation. Which quickly went to work. Any metal that were on the ACPD soldiers quickly started to heat up until it was unbearably hot. She could bring it to the melting point, but she did not want to kill them with the heat.

The Skulls vs. the ACPD

Skeleton rolled his eyes, though his mask kept anyone from seeing. He should have known that Kylie would be protecting Matt. Speaking of which, he would be pretty useful against those drones. For right now, though, he had to deal with clearing this building of ACPD scum. He could hear screams as the police sent tenants running through the building. Any meta they found would be shot, most likely, or knocked out so they could be experimented on. Skeleton felt bad for them, but he had a job to do.

"Good, we're gonna need you." he said to Grease "Let's split up. I'll take the upper floors and the roof. I'll see if I can build up enough energy to launch some projectiles at those weak UAVs. Slasher, you take the lower floors that aren't on fire. Grease, you take the lower floors that are on fire and clean up anything left. Try not to burn the whole building down, okay?" The elevator doors opened and Skeleton stepped on. "Once we're done, we'll all meet back at the bar." The doors closed and the elevator went up. The apartment building had eleven floors. Skeleton started at floor six, hoping to drive the police up to the roof. As soon as the doors opened, he was nearly run over by a crowd of terrified tenants. The floor was filled with haze from the smoke of Kylie's fire, though it wasn't enough to cause Skeleton much trouble. Hopefully it wouldn't smoke up enough to damage him; smoke was one of the few things that would actually kill him. He pushed through the crowd and stepped onto the floor, where he systematically moved from open door to open door, kicking them open to build some energy up. One room he threw open contained two police, one who was sniping from a window and another who was waiting at the door with a shotgun. These dumbasses never learned, did they? Skeleton grabbed the shotgun by the tip of the barrel, allowing it to fire into his hand. The bullets ricocheted off onto the floor and the police officer screamed. Skeleton punched him in the side of the head, sending a splatter of blood across the kitchen wall. The sniper turned around just in time to fire a bullet into Skeleton's sternum. That one hurt. He staggered backwards, stumbling into the door and falling on his back. The high-velocity blast from the sniper rifle gave Skeleton a huge charge, but the amount of force behind it still left a nice bruise and the radiation blast burned badly. He pulled himself to his feet, but before he could move again another bullet hit his left shoulder. Skeleton crashed into the door frame, using a bit of his charge to bust it loose. Half a brick fell and landed next to Skeleton's hand. The sniper aimed at Skeleton's head, a shot that would surely concuss him, but as he pulled the trigger he realized that he was out of ammo. Quickly as he could, the sniper reloaded his gun, but it was too late. Before he could put the magazine in a piece of brick moving at the speed of a supersonic jet hit him in the face. The blood splatter stained the apartment's beat-up couch scarlet. Skeleton slowly rose to his feet, rubbing his shoulder gently. He would have to be more careful if the ACPD had this kind of sh*t laying around.

Nex was on the street now. The plasma shield around the bar was gone with the soldiers fleeing. The hail of bullets and missiles from the drones up above were putting quite the toll on the Skulls ground forces. Archer was confined to the back of the bar, trapped their due to his' being unable to hold up against a missile strike. At least four Amira clones lay dead on the street, while the real Amira sat next to Archer, keeping him company. There were three recorded Skulls casualties so far. Jack, a cryomancer, had been hit by a missile and blown to pieces. Nocturne, a hypnotist, had been shot dead while trying to run into the bar for cover. Ben, an ink manipulator, had tried to flank the police on his motorcycle. He and a puddle of tattoo ink that had been his chinese attack dragon both laid on an adjacent street dead. No one had seen Faust, though knowing her she was probably off torturing someone. The sandstorm formed by Valjean was annoying, but Nex could see through it with ease. Speaking of which, a giant scorpion was going to have a bad time against a fleet of drones.

"Valjean!" Nex yelled over the roar of the fight "Get to the apartment building and transform back! You're not going to be useful if you're a giant splatter on the street! Use your powers to force the ACPD to the top of the building! Matt, transform into your most accurate long-distance form! We need to kill those drones! I'll cover you!" He expected these to be done without another word. You didn't disobey a direct order from Nex and live. He looked up at the sky, his eyes beginning to glow a radioactive green.

Spoiler:

"Show time." he whispered to himself. Six bullets hit Nex, putting half-dollar-sized holes in him, but he didn't react to them in the slightest and they healed instantly. A missile got within fifteen feet of him and exploded. A geiger counter laying on the street next to a dead officer began to beep loudly as the air around Nex began to shimmer with six-hundred-degree heat. The road began to bubble and the air shimmered. A discarded assault rifle laying in the road began to boil and melted into a mess of plastic and lead. Its bullets began to explode like firecrackers, sending drops of lead through the air. The geiger counter exploded, its inner mechanisms superheating to nearly eight-hundred degrees. The glow coming off of Nex was enough to blind anyone looking directly at him. The air near his body superheated to plasma as his core temperature skyrocketed to 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit, the temperature of the core of a nuclear reactor. All he had to show for this was a single bead of sweat on his forehead; the heat didn't bother him in the least. Bullets and missiles that got within ten feet of him disintegrated or melted, their contents popping like popcorn. Nex looked up at the sky, now fully charge, and rose his hand up to point at a drone. An ear-shattering "BOOM!" rocked the neighborhood, breaking glass for a mile around as a bright green laser, a foot in diameter, exploded from Nex's hand and rocketed through the air at light speed, disintegrating one of the five drones and continuing on into the air where it finally ended at the dome, causing it to ripple as if it were made of jello. Nex channeled the energy in such a way that the hottest it got near Matt and the bar was 110 degrees, a survivable temperature. In other places on the street, however, it was nearly five hundred degrees, causing cars to melt and dying police officers to literally cook.

Kylie nodded to Skeleton as he gave her a run down of what was about to happen. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, bits of flaming oil still clinging to her flesh. She didn't feel the burns, but she could feel the heat. And she was going to have an ugly tan line in the morning. "Sweep the flaming lower floor, clean up any fleeing officers and don't completely destroy the building." Kylie grinned. "Got it." As Skeleton stepped into the elevator and went off, Kylie couldn't help but pause a moment. She had a mad amount of respect for Skeleton. Not only was he incredibly strong, he was also good at making plans. Both he and Nex knew the strengths and weaknesses of the other major members of the gang, and thus knew how to direct them. Kylie was bad at making plans, she normally just would catch things on fire and avoid being shot at.

She exchanged a quick nod with Slasher before the two of them split up. Kylie moved deeper into the flaming first floor, not really being bothered by the intense heat. She didn't sweat, but the oil generating out of her hands and arms became thicker. She moved almost silently, the crackle and whine of the fire masking her steps. She spotted two officers moving towards the elevator and grinned. She lifted up her arms, oil shooting from them like a hose. The burning substance completely covered the officers, melting their armor and bodies. It happened so quickly and suddenly they barely had time to scream.

As Kylie continued to sweep the floor, she heard the chaos outside. It wasn't had for her to assume it was Nex making some trouble for the ACPD. She was quite familiar with Nex's power, as well as how lethal it is. Kylie grinned, he was going to make this fight way easier for them, and this attack by the ACPD was soon to end. Kylie, quite content that her section of the floor had been cleared, leaned up against a singed wall. She was planning on waiting for some more Skulls to enter the building to help out, when suddenly a bunch of tenants came screaming by, with the intent of leaving. Kylie, already regretting her choice, stepped in front of them and spoke with a cool, level headed, voice. "Unless you all want to be cooked by my boss." She paused, pointing over their heads. "I would suggest you all head out the back door. It might be a little cooler out that way." Suddenly they where scrambling over each other, desperate to get out.

Kylie turned back towards the door, lighting a cigarette.

Shaun


"You're right, Ms.Lynn," Shaun began "This fight is nothing like the LA gang wars. It is much, much worse. Hundreds have died, and the blood keeps running like a faucet. One hundred and fifty-six people died in Operation Terrier, innocent men and women who never harmed anyone. You killed them for no reason other than your fear of their abilities. You're no better than the Nazis, and you never improve. The human race has left a sour taste in my mouth. You cause pain and sow destruction and yet still you have the audacity to ask for my help!" Shaun banged his fist on the table, his face now a dull pink. "If this war is to end, it will be because peace prevails and this nightmare is ended, not because I allow you to gun down any human being that you do not like."

The Skulls

"Impressive," Nex called "But you missed one." Nex looked up at the last drone and blasted it out of the sky with almost zero effort. Its pieces fell to the ground and disintegrated in the nuclear heat to become ashes on the pavement. As the battle began to end, Nex began to turn down the heat. The street returned to a survivable temperature, and whatever was left sizzling on the pavement hardened into sculptures of twisted, melted metal and plastic. Inside of the hotel, the police began to move towards the back door, realizing that they'd lost this fight. Lieutenant Cain was angry and reluctant, but there was nothing more he could do. He had lost this one. As he cursed into his walkie talky and began to leave the room he had holed himself up in, the open door was splattered with blood. Slasher ran down the corridor, her blades ready to cleave flesh and decimate bone. Cain dove back into the room as a dozen knives embedded into the door and the wall inside. He reached for his pistol, but it was absent from his hip. Somehow, it must have fallen off. He saw it across the room, and dove for it with all his strength and urgency. He wrapped his fingers around the grip, spun around, and...

Slasher walked away from the room about two minutes later, her swords sheathed and her face blank.


(I'm gonna be completely honest. I REALLY did not feel like posting but I had to to keep the rp going, so I totally half-assed this).

Cordelia Lynn

Lynn clicked her tongue at Shaun, brushing a few stray crimson hairs back behind her ear. "Well, apparently we're supposed to end all this peacefully, but he doesn't want to speak to us. That'll make things tricky, but, hey, that's why we're Aurum's Finest." Lynn stood up, picking up her piece, loading it with the bored, practiced speed any decent officer has, and tucked it back under her jacket. "Yeah, I'm gonna go ahead and say Shaun's not gonna turn over the well, Condy." she nudged her partner. "Let's roll out before he gets angrier and puts our brains back in preschool or something." Lynn stood up, lazily stretched, and motioned for Shaun to show them to the exit. "If you change your mind and feel like negotiating, here's my number." Lynn drew a card from her pocket and flicked it across the table to Shaun, holding eye contact with him for a moment. You know what the number's for, don't you boy? My associate's just dying to meet with you.... Lynn tucked her hands into her pockets and glanced at Condor. "You ready, Chuck?"

Miss Khan

It took Leila about two seconds to realize serendipity was calling her name.

The beast was hurt. Very, very badly.

Leila turned and hauled ass back upstairs, abandoning her normal slow, tactical approach. Speed. Speed was crucial. The beast could regenerate very quickly when it was submerged in water, and it had dived right back down into the sewers. If she hurried-yes, if she hurried, she could easily...

Leila dove back into the room with the snipers, pausing only for a moment to take a deep, deep breath in, followed by a slow sigh. She moved over and slung one of the police snipers over one shoulder, grunting as she did so, and picked up the spotter's assault rifle in her spare hand. Carrying a corpse over one shoulder left her generally unable to defend herself, so she fumbled with the body for a moment and managed to sling the rifle over her shoulder, leaving her free hand to use her revolver. Leila moved back down the stairs-a bit slower, her joints weren't used to two hundred extra pounds weighing them down-and to the back of the building. She quickly glanced out and moved out the back alley, her eyes wide and feral, taking in everything around her. Must move quickly. Exposed. Can use the corpse to take some of the bullets, but the farce is ruined if they see me with the body.

Miss Khan stopped, peering around the corner of the alley onto the street. General chaos. Damnit. She could see the sewer grate, it was only ten or twenty feet away. Leila generally preferred to save her grenades for when they were truly necessary, but she saw no other way around this. Holstering her pistol, Leila drew a grenade, awkwardly pulled the pin with one hand, and hurled it out into the street. This was followed by two others, which quickly began to billow out a greyish fog that swirled up into the air and sharply reduced visibility. Several onlookers thought this was tear gas, ACPD-delivered, and the screams intensified.

Leila, however, didn't linger to hear them. Sprinting into the cloud, she stayed low and quickly located the storm grate, lifting it up and sliding the body in, then jumping down after it. She maneuvered down the ladder very quickly and then crouched down, swinging the assault rifle around and flicking the tactical light on. The beam barely cut into the thick dark of the sewers, and Leila felt a vague sympathy for the many officers who had died down here, hunting the beast. She walked forward slowly but carefully, shining the light down into the water as she made her way to the place Sal disappeared to.

Her eyes occasionally flickered up to the walls, particularly when she passed by a ladder leading up to the surface. One in particular was thick with blood, massive footprints leading down into the water. Fresh. Leila moved to the water and knelt, shining the-

Sal leapt up and pressed her back against the wall, driving the air out of her with a grunt. Interestingly, Leila didn't seem to panic at all, not even to flinch-she seemed to move with an eerie, total calm.

"POLICE?" Sal hissed. Blood stained his face-one of his eyes appeared to have been shot out, and he spoke even more slurred and gruffly than normal. Leila sighed deeply, staring Sal right back in the eyes.

"No. But I have one for you."

"HOW DO I KNOW YOU'RE NOT POLICE?"

"Because I have one. He's yours."

"...YOU BRING ME A COP?"

"Yes, Sal. He's all yours."

Sal wheezed, his broad chest heaving as he struggled to think through the ramifications. His already retarded mind was addled further by the pain, and he slowly let Leila down, clutching his skull with a claw-it was, quite possibly, hurting him to think. "YOU....YOU TAKE ME TO POLICE?"

"Yes, Sal. Come with me."

Leila quietly led Sal back to the corpse, taking deep breaths. Cannot let your body betray you. The beast can smell your fear. Your hate. Stay calm. Get ready. "Here he is, Sal. He's all yours."

"...HE'S DEAD?"

"Yes. I brought you a meal."

Sal laughed-a noise which sounded entirely inhuman and entirely unlike a laugh. He moved forward, rising up out of the water and grabbing the police officer with both monstrous claws, lifting him up.

Leila slowly slid the assault rifle down off her shoulder and flipped the laser on, drawing a bead on the base of Sal's skull.

Sal turned to dive back into the water with his evening meal and Leila blew a hole through the back of his skull. Then another. And another. Her arms were, again, unnaturally steady, and while Leila was no expert markswoman, at such close range with a surprised target...

...you didn't have to be Annie Oakley. Sal let out a scream, cut short by the fact his windpipe was eviscerated, and fell down onto the concrete, coughing up blood and desperately hissing. The pain was already blinding, but this was worse, it felt like his throat wasn't even there, his jaw and his teeth and his everything were-

Sal blinked his remaining eye open, staring at the woman before him with confusion. He was so far from the water-his skin, his skin was dry and tearing open on the rough concrete below and there was a dazzling red light that took up everything else and-

Leila's rifle went click after ten or twelve more seconds. She waited, making certain that one of the Big Five was dead. He was resilient-the plethora of scars on his chest and the fact he'd still been coherent after the dozens of gaping wounds on his body attested to this. But, no, it would seem Aurum city's resident monster had finally died.

"....goodnight, Salazar." Leila murmured. She moved over to the police officer and rolled him over, examining his body. Hm. There was a gunshot wound to the face, which somewhat disagreed with the scenario that he died fighting the beast. No matter. Leila drew a serrated combat knife from her belt and, with the cold precision a butcher has when dissecting a cow into ribs, made the man's face into mincemeat. This was followed by a long, deep gash along his arm, as if the beast had barely glanced him in a fight. She stood up, analyzing her handiwork. Both the man and the beast looked as if they'd been run through meatgrinders, which was what she was going for.

"Perhaps if villainry doesn't work out, I should consider art." Leila very nearly said, "Wonder what Lynn would think", but caught herself. Fool. There could always be cameras. Leila moved the rifle over to the cop, positioning it as if it had slipped out of his hands post-mortem, and then moved all the rifle shells over to where they should be.

...was that it? Leila scoured her mind and came to the conclusion that it was. Soon, someone would come down into the sewers, perhaps tracing the tracker beacon on the cop, and find the Great Sal slain. She had given this cop a legacy, something for his family to be proud of, rather than merely being offed from behind by the up-and-coming Miss Khan. It was a morbid sort of courtesy.

Leila turned and disappeared into the dark, ecstatic but forcing herself to remain calm, and sought to leave the sewers many miles from this place.

Spoiler:

May 3, 2025

6:00 PM


It is early evening in Aurum, and as the sun begins to dip below the horizon and end another day, lights citywide begin to blink awake. The day is slowly beginning to cool with the drop of the sun, though it is still warm, hovering around 69 degrees. It is cloudy out, though there are no signs of rain (which is good, because due to the radiation bubble above, death by raindrops is a very real possibility in the City of Gold). Bars and restaurants around Aurum begin to crowd as citizens get off of work and hit the streets for some fun. It’s still rush hour, and the streets downtown are incredibly crowded with pedestrians bustling from place to place and cars trapped in an endless sea of monotony as tail lights flash and driver’s lean on their horns.

At the SAM headquarters, a cookout is beginning. Raphael stands in front of a very large charcoal grill, a spatula in his hand. Katrina is in the pool, laying on an inflatable raft. There is a martini glass in her right hand that has a paper umbrella in it. Several of the Sammies are sitting around the pool area.

Small and meek, Lucy Franklin sits at the edge of the pool, staring at the water’s surface as if trying to see her pale, freckle-dotted reflection in the rippling waves. She is wearing a steel blue one-piece bathing suit to cover up her rather obvious scarring, but still a ragged scar is visible across her right shoulder. So young, only thirteen years old, and already she has seen such evil and felt such pain. She seems rather self-conscious about this wound, and persists to touch and look at it an obsessive amount, as if she were hoping it would disappear.

Surely the most dressed-down her ever gets, another member of the SAM sitting around the pool patio is Ryan Corvo, the self-proclaimed protege of Shaun Smithton. He is a pale, well-groomed boy, with black hair that parts in the middle and not a hair out of place. There is a small scar in the corner of his nose. He lays on a lounge chair, wearing a white polo shirt and a pair of bright red cargo shorts that could almost-but-not-quite pass for swim trunks. There is a pair of black designer sunglasses sitting low on his nose, obviously an attempt to look as cool as he could in the hot, hot sun.

Keeping Ryan company on an adjacent lounge chair is someone who is actually affiliated with Shaun Smithton, Taylor Dubois, Shaun’s adopted daughter through a series of curious circumstances. Tall, long, and blonde, she is drop-dead gorgeous, with a heart-shaped face and a kind smile highlighted by cherry red lipstick. She wears a cerulean bikini that matches her painted nails, and in her hands is a Kindle Fire. She is reading Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs (yes, that is actually his name).

On the other end of the pool near the garden, the fire pit burns and a boy plays guitar. He is a portly boy of sixteen who goes by the name of Jeremy Norton. He wears a short-sleeved button-down shirt, cargo shorts, and a straw fedora on his head. He plays his Taylor guitar with passion, as if it is all he ever wishes to do. Occasionally he sings with a deep voice, but mostly he just plays.

The person absent from the party, however, is Shaun Smithton, who has gone out on an errand.



An errand that involves dark alleys and poisonous smoke. Shaun found himself standing in a dark alley, alone with his no companion but his shadow and his troubled thoughts. He was here, of course, to meet with the lovely Miss Khan of the Skulls. This was the spot that she had told him she wished to meet at. He, of course, being as oblivious as he was, agreed to it without having the slightest idea as to where this location was. Now, however, Shaun was a tad afraid. Despite his ability to always know when there were people around him, this was Leila’s territory, and she knew it better than he did. He looked around, now wishing that he’d brought someone with him for backup, and called out “I am here, Leila Caulay. I do not enjoy being kept waiting.”  


Meanwhile, in West Rail, the Skulls are, as usual, getting drunk. There is a street party going on, and Skully’s is blaring with music as they, in Archer’s words, “celebrated the life of the dearly departed Sal the giant-ass salamander”. Their way of doing this, of course, was the same way that they did all celebrations: by getting drunk (and in some cases, high). Skeleton sits at the bar as usual, beer in hand and mask on face. Archer sits to his right, slightly tipsy and picking at an order of nachos with Amira, who is drunk and laughing like an idiot. Slasher, who doesn’t generally drink or show emotion, is outside polishing her bike and keeping to herself. Nex is nowhere to be found, leaving the job of managing the party to the remaining four.

Nikki Biyung.

Spoiler:

The slurping sound of a cup of soda being emptied was the sound that accompanied Nikki walking away from a foodstand.

All the SAMs are having a big cookout back at the home base, and here Nikki is, wandering the downtown streets of Aurum city by herself. Trying to find any reason not to be at SAM HQ. Well, it was risky walking around by herself, being a scrawny Korean girl on her own. But she was a low key kind of person, unlike Amanda, or any of the other SAMs. Along with her network of bugs subtly flying around her, alerting her of any threats - She could handle herself just fine.

She walked into a crowd of people. She was wondering if she was conspicuous or not. Wearing a technically all black outfit. An unzipped black hoodie showing her white t-shirt underneath, and black running shorts. She had the hood tightened just enough that nobody would get a good look at her face. Then again, she's probably jinxing herself by thinking too hard about it. If the ACPD comes a runnin' she'll know before they even get within twenty feet of her.

Nikki kept a close eye on her surroundings. She was making sure that she didn't wander into Skull turf and end up picking a fight with the likes of the big five. Heh. Wouldn't that be funny? She just takes two steps and she's staring five of the most dangerous people in Aurum city. Heh. She smiled for a second. Degressing into a daydream of valiantly facing off against the five. Nikki's realist attitude quickly snapped her back into reality after realizing how hard she'd get her ass handed to her. She didn't have the super human system of Raphael, the unconquerable fire of Samson, or the master over the weather that Katrina had... Where was she going again? But what did she have? Oh, control over a dangerous element once put in the right hands.


Samson Isiah Jeross.

Spoiler:

"Oh, let's get this fired up!" Samson shouted loudly in the name of jest. He stood directly next to the grill, with a cigarette in his mouth, and a beer in his hand. He pointed at the grill and fired off a bout of flame directly into the grill, just to get it all started. He tipped his hat and walked around the edge of the pool. He saw Jeremy, who wore a similar straw hat, "Nice hat, kid!" Despite the incidents that befell SAM yesterday, Samson was full of bravado and swagger. Like nothing could ever change his mood. He heard that there was an ambush a few days back on the food run. Raphael got beaten to a pulp, Amanda was on the verge of sharing the same fate, oh, and Raphael's car was broken beyond all repair (So sad, so bad). Hmph, he heard that the cavalry came in the form of Hector, Nikki, and Katrina. As a group, they fended off ACPD, and came back in one piece. Now that's what Samson's talking about! Teamwork plain and simple. It was for the best that they just move on from them to begin with - Especially since there were no major losses other than Raphael's car.

He firmly planted his behind onto a lounge chair. He looked down at his outfit, for a moment, taking in a puff of cigarette smoke. He was wearing a red hawaiian shirt (With rows of white palm trees all over it), with jean shorts, and white sneakers with a red stripe on them. "Would love to jump in the pool guys, but no thanks!"


Amanda Daisy Blackmore.


"Woo!" Amanda yelled when Samson got things "fired up". She was in the least bit phased by the ACPD ambush a while ago. It wasn't fun, but Amanda ain't the girl that would let those ACPD asswads ruin her fun. Show must go on b*tches! That was her motto. She was wearing a black bikini with a white skull in a few 'strategic' locations. She had her bass guitar strapped around her shoulder, and would have loved to give performance if that Jeremy kid wasn't beating her to it. Well, she 'ought to fix that with a little telekinesis. She focused on Jeremy's guitar and pulled a few strings mentally. It wasn't much, but it sounded absolutely atrocious with the rest of his sound, and would surely throw out of rhythm.

Being done with being childish, she decided to go talk to someone... Nikki? Actually, where the hell is Nikki? She should be down here, meeting people! Not locked up in her room doing something boring like reading a book or training. Ugh. Whatever. Amanda would surely chide Nikki later. For now, she set her eyes on the lovely couple consisting of Ryan and Taylor. Members of SAM. She remembered one being the apprentice of el jefe, Shaun. Ha! Nothing to brag about. Amanda walked over to them, holding onto her guitar strap in her hand. "Sup," She intruded upon Ryan and Taylor very casually. Perhaps they were having a nice little conversation, well, too bad. Because she just enhanced their conversation with her mere presence! "How are ya'll doing during this fine celebration?"

There was nothing Kylie liked more then parties, especially parties hosted by the Skulls. Plenty of booze, food and babes as she always said. She could laugh thinking about how lame a party at the SAM headquarters would be, despite the fact they had a kick-ass pool, and would die of laughter about how nerdy a police party would be. Every so often Kylie thought about crashing a SAM party, not hurting anyone, just show up drunk and ready to party. Of course, Kylie didn't get trashed right of way. She first made the decision to mourn whatever losses came from the Skulls after the police attack. Several Skulls, including Sal, had died. Kylie had frowned, lighting a cigarette. Some of them had been young, too young to die. They had given their lives for a good purpose, and could only hope they rested soundly. Kylie knew if the Skulls didn't remember their dead, no one else would. The normies couldn't give two craps about a freak who died.

And after she had taken the time to remember, she walked back into the bar with all her finesse and charms. Yep, the evening could have been sad, but there was no way a Skull would want to be remembered by having everyone cry over their corpse. Kylie decided if she ever died she wanted a party to be had in her memory.

This brings Kylie up to now. After getting quickly patched up and re-greasing her hair, Kylie joined the party. Smiles all around, just how she liked it. The Skulls deserved to let loose sometimes, especially after an attack on their lifestyle. And god they kicked some ass today. Those cops had their asses handed to them on a silver platter. On her way to the bar where the Big Five always sat, Kylie found herself patting the backs of several different Skulls members, even some little underlings. It probably made their day or some sh*t, at this point Kylie was in too good of a mood to care about her rank difference.

Several mixed drinks and shots later, and Kylie was a little bit past tipsy and into the drunk zone. She had started her drinking in her normal seat, but eventually moved herself up to on the bar, her legs streching out the length of the bar table, while still being mindful of the plate of nachos being shared by Archer and Amria. Kylie held a drink in her hand, far past remembering how many she had drunken so far, but she seemed to be having a good time. Every so often Kylie's weight seemed to much for herself and she rested her shoulder on Skeleton's head to keep from tumbling off the bar. After a few minutes of staring at her drink, and then around to the other Skulls, she would sit back up.

“Ya...ya knows guys.” Kylie slurred, looking down at the other members sitting near her. “We kicked some serious butts today.” She paused to take another drink. “I hate normies so f*cking much, especially the f*cking cops.” She paused again before continuing with a lopsided grin. “So it brings me a lot of pleasure to beat the sh*t out of the cops. Like what are they gonna do? Arrest us?” At this Kylie laughed. She loved getting drunk. No pain, no fear, all fun. “Hey were is Nexxy at? He is suppose to be feeling the love too.” Kylie ran her hand through her hair. “Eh. He's probs off with a girl or something.”

Kylie finished off her drink, slamming the glass down on the bar with a loud clank. “Speaking of love.” Kylie slurred, holding her head up. “Did you guys see my little brother? Did you see little Mathew today? What a kid. He's a huge showoff but I think he gets it from spending time with me.” Kylie laughed again, leaving her glass on the bar to pick up a cigarette from the pack in her jacket pocket. She struggled with her lighter for a moment, until her cigarette finally lit. Kylie wasn't sure if she was the one to finally light it or if Skeleton had gotten tired of her struggling and did it for her, but either way she was smoking now.

“Damn.” Kylie slurred around her cigatette. “I love that kid more then anything and I don't know what I would do without em.” Kylie leaned back slightly against a wall. “And hell, I love you guys too, but that kid is something special to me.” Kylie ran her hands through her hair again, leaning over to snag a nacho off the plate. “But don't you guys dare tell him that.” The last thing Mathew needed to know was that his adopted sister was actually a huge softie under her hardened exterior of leather and grease. Getting drunk always made Kylie feel sentimental.

Miss Khan

"My dearest apologies, Dr. Smithton," Miss Khan spoke, her voice brought down to a warbled bass by the modulator within the gas mask she wore. Leila, wearing her usual get-up of functional, yet intimidating (as intimidating as someone who had to look up to most of Aurum's denizens could be) black armor. The coat rippled around her, tied in the front. "I will do you the courtesy of telling you that our mutual friend-the one who paid you a visit today, is in the building across the street with a rifle. I assure you, she is on watch for anyone who might look to disrupt our little meeting."

Lynn, mostly for the sake of being a smartass, muttered "Hey Shauny Shaun". She was on top of the building, looking up and down the street for any major-league Skulls or too-curious SAMs. She'd radio Leila when something came up, and then blow their brains halfway across Aurum if need be. Sure, Lynn didn't have any superpowers-but you didn't need to be supernatural to kill somebody. You just to be one step ahead of them.

And Miss Khan never settled for anything less than three.

"But I have come unarmed, as promised. And, similarly, I trust that this meeting will stay between the two of us. You strike me as a professional." She opened up her coat and showed there were no guns strapped inside, no grenades hanging from webbed belts. "Just a meeting of the minds." she turned her head, quizically, observing him for a moment. She'd spent some time tinkering on a little something that should render her immune to Shaun's telepathy-although if Shaun was smart, he wouldn't reveal if it did or didn't work. She was hoping that he didn't have a good enough poker face to prevent that. "But we have grand affairs to discuss, I think." She took a step closer, not as a threatening gesture, but merely because the fate of Aurum deserved an arms-length distance, she felt. "Such as the fate of Aurum. I trust that we can speak honestly to one another-you know the home address of my associate and I, and could easily betray her to the ACPD, or myself to the Skulls. I, on the other hand, have a few pounds of chemical weapons in a dead drop. If I don't check in periodically, messages are sent to the police and the Skulls with their whereabouts. So, I do not think either of us has much to gain from threatening the other...and I think it beneath you, regardless."

A little sweetening up goes a long way with the academic types.

"Earlier this week, two events of rather significant importance occurred. The first would be the death of a Mr. Salazar, at my own hand. The Skulls believe he was gunned down by the ACPD. The second is that you refused the ACPD access to the Well that the SAMs possess. I must say, I admire your resolve in this conflict. You've stuck to the moral high road, and my informant says it's more than an act...your people don't seem to be as prone to," she paused, choosing her words carefully, "...some of the nastier elements that warfare can bring out. You're a man of honor. In my own way, I would think I am a woman of honor...we may be adversaries by our allegiance, but I have no personal quarrel with you, Mr. Smithton. Were I able to achieve my goals without fighting the SAMs, I would gladly do so. For now, my primary concern is the Skulls. They're too unpredictable. Most criminal organizations always are. Their little hideout is a cesspit of testosterone and pride, neither of which for a stable faction make. I intend to change that. So for now, I'd like to avoid, oh, what is the expression? 'Throwing down with you."

"You can throw down with me anytime," Lynn murmured into her mic.

"But as for the real purpose of this meeting...what are your goals, for Aurum? Long term? I've been told that you've been working on bringing down the lovely dome that cuts us off from the rest of the world. Is this true?"