)OOC: Please feel free to PM me if you wish to join I will give any information you are looking for. I will also start an OOC post on those forums shortly. ANd on to the fun)
Arlington Cemetery the corner of Wilson and Roosevelt drive (19 Jan 2012 0930)
Three buses passed by the stranger before parking 30 yards away. On it were the Navy Ceremonial Guardsmen heading to their next funeral. They paid no attention to the man leaning against the tree as they pulled their rifles out of the bus and lined up for the full honors funeral across the street. Vero
stepped out of the shade of the tree he stood under and moved across the road. His eyes were set on a single target. A single gravestone he had been watching for the last hour since the Ro had sent him here. He knew he was sent there to remind him of what completing his mission meant. Vero stepped into the road not looking for traffic. His black duster flapped behind him in a light breeze. His hair whipped in and out of his face sporadically obscuring his vision. But his slate colored eyes remained set on that one tombstone. He hesitated as he got closer to the open grave. The Angel knew what would be written on that stone, and who was about to be put in the grave before him.
November 14 1981-December 5 2011
He slowly walked around the stone, straightening his black tie and smoothing out his white button up shirt before kneeling down and running his gloved fingers across the names etched into the back.
Vero vaguely knew that these were his wife and children. He also had an idea that they all died violently. He struggled for a moment to remember but couldn't seem to bring his memories back. He was so engrossed he didn't notice the elderly woman watching him for a few moments then walking up to him touching him on the shoulder.
“Sir I’m sorry but we are about to start the funeral for this young man. Did you know the deceased? Are you family? A friend maybe?”
The Angel turned to the woman and smiled holding in laughter. “No ma’am it turns out I don’t know him at all. I was just taking a look. I’ll get out of your way. Give my condolences to the family.”
Vero stood and walked back across the road. He watched the funeral from his tree by the buses. His casket being carried by the bearers, the chaplain giving his pointless speech about a life that ended too soon. 7 guns fired their three successive shots. The bugle played, the men and women saluted, and his old family cried. The ceremonial Guard packed up, the family left. His grave was covered, and Arlington was quiet once again. It would be a long time before the Archangel of Force could meditate in such silence again and he would enjoy it. Shortly after night fell Vero lifted his hand, splaying his fingers and a black wormhole opened up behind him as if appearing out of thin air. He backed into the wormhole and it closed. Vero was gone.
Tip of the Washington Monument Washington D.C. (22 Jan 2012 1430)
Vero stepped out of his wormhole and surveyed his canvas. He would have to paint enough of a masterpiece to get the attention of the Media, but he didn't want to go overboard. He decided the national mall would grab their attention. And that is where he would start. If it didn't invoke the reaction he wanted he would just have to continue his campaign.
This would be about his search for new members. There were very few tourists in the national mall today but that was alright with Vero. He wasn't here to kill the people yet. Only recruit people to his cause. Bring those who would think themselves strong enough to join his cause. He looked down on his audience and smiled. He had their attention, enough so that the news reporters were showing up already. A man flying above a national monument was indeed newsworthy. So it was time to put the word out. Vero landed in front of the monuments entrance and stepped toward the news vans as a single reporter and cameraman ran in his direction
"Sir. Sir. I have just a few questions sir?"
Vero didn't stop moving only drew the pistol Zeymah with his right hand and fired it directly into the reporters skull. As she fell he continued to fire drew Briinah with his left hand and began to fire it relentlessly into the crowd killing everyone he could. Every camera out there was rolling and each one fell a different way catching people falling under gunfire. Shortly after people began to burn alive falling to the ground futilely rolling to put the flames that engulfed them out. The entire time a meniacle laughter rolled behind the cameras. When most of the screams stopped CNN's camera lifted itself off of the ground. Vero was on the other side of it smiling reloading his guns.
"I will destroy this National Mall in four hours. I will be waiting for you to send your humans in. . .but be warned they will all die. I will leave none alive. I search for those who would join my cause. Those who will stop at nothing to balance the powers of earth both good and evil once again. And who will not be afraid to do what it takes to balance the nature of earth out once again as well."
Last edited by Vero Kaivel; 01-27-2012 at 06:39 PM.
Vero sat on Abraham Lincolns lap. The memorial was void of people. The trail of burning bodies may have Had something to do with it. He had been shot at by snipers a few times, and unless his senses were wrong there was one last sniper with a sight on his head. He lifted his finger ever so slightly as the man only 300 yards away tightened his on the trigger of his rifle.
"Why do you continue to try?" Vero asked as the bullet missed his head by twelve centimeters.
He then lifted his hand and and gripped it into a tight fist. The man on the other end of that rifle began to scream and Vero laughed at the sound. Suprisingly the military had stayed away from the National Mall. Vero had killed quite a few of the people in the mall, some had escaped but it didn't matter.
The angel of force pushed his hand down and watched as the last man to try to kill him flew downward and directly through the pavement into the ground killing him instantly.
Vero considered using another camera to make another broadcast to the world. He cast the thought aside. He would wait one more hour and if none came he would give a last warning. Soon Kuragari's name would be known by the world. For the better or for worse.
Vero stood on top of the Smithsonian American Art museum looking South East . Everything was burning in the National Mall. The Washington monument had fallen in the heat of the flames and the earthquakes Vero had created. The entire 309 acer lot was on fire or collapsing into the ground. Vero was no longer interested in what he had done. To the South East, not far from him he felt a battle happening. He could only feel enough to tell him that there were still living people there ready and willing to fight, but wouldn't have even been able to feel that had it not been for the explosion that had occured moments before. He opened a wormhole and stepped through leaving the burning remains of the National Mall in Washington DC in his wake. Soon when the News choppers arrived they would see the faults created by the earthquakes read Kuragari. By then Vero felt confident he would meet allies in his fight.
Vero floated above the pentagon staring down at the memorial benches that had been built and revealed in 2009. He knew this area well and had spent plenty of time here and in new york in 2001 helping in the process of cleaning up. This time it seemed he was here to witness more destruction but he did not know the cause of such a large mess. Vero slowly landed examining the area and sensing what he could within the pentagon. Before he had stepped through the wormhole he had sensed a large battle taking place but it seemed the time he took to check on the news was more than enough time for the battle to end.
"Where did time go? I was watching the news for ten minutes and here I've missed even more fun." He said as he rose again into the air not knowing what to do now he began to slowly make his way back toward D.C. He decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to stop in at Ben's Chili Bowl and eat while he figured out where to go next.
The weather in Washington changed suddenly. A cloudless, almost shimmering, blue sky darkened with the onset of a storm system that was not, by any stretch of the imagination, natural. At the center of this strange disturbance, where only more dark clouds should have been, was a large rip in the sky. All around that rip was an outpouring of violet-blue discolorations to the clouds within fifty meters of the distortion. All along the ground civilians, policemen, and even military units - who were previously engaged in defending against whatever crisis was ripping the place apart moments before – turned to gaze in wonder at the thing above. Their eyes were locked onto it, unsure of what it was, or what had brought it to be. Was this a product of the Sagan Wave, or some other spatial anomaly that they’d never seen, nor heard of, before now?
Even as they pondered, something even more unorthodox, and thus just as shocking, happened. From the middle of that rip began the fall of a creature who appeared oddly human, or so their eyes told them from the distance – despite the fact that he looked remotely like an ant in general terms of overall size. Military snipers quickly turned at the command of their officers, turning their sights onto the thing, attempting to determine what this newcomer of a creature was, and they were rewarded with answers. It was, indeed, humanoid in design…but was it human? They couldn’t be sure, not until interaction was had, anyway.
- Sometime earlier, on a distant world –
The soldiers came plunging forward, their insect-like bodies scurrying across the ground, covering a good amount of distance with minimal effort. Across the stone ground they ran, slipping in the remnants of sand from the wind storm the night before. Their mission was a simple one; protect the queen. Their task, however, was not so simple. They scurried to a battle they didn’t yet know they couldn’t win. The power they fought was too great, and nothing they could do would be able to stop him from accomplishing his task.
For his part, the man stood and watched them come at him.
Their segmented bodies rushing forward, all the while he prepared himself for what was to come. Even as the first group of five breached melee distance, he swung his massive sword around and sliced clean through two of them. Their bodies oozed a slimy, green liquid which served for their blood. Even as those two fell, the other three began to try and attack him. The sword swung once more, slicing through legs and heads, as more began to compile themselves into the battle. He was greatly outnumbered, and yet he continued to fight them, beating them back and away.
After all, he was being paid to kill all these bastards he could manage to kill. While he fought back the attacking horde of insects, a precision strike team was moving into position to kill their queen. These bastards would lose their lives, and their home, before they could even recognize a real threat.
What he didn’t know, though, was that he was being watched…
From three dozen lightyears away, on the space station Archangel, a group of men watched the battle quite closely. They saw the strength of the one, and how he battled the many.
“He’ll do.” One of the men spoke, in regards to an unmentioned task that needed doing. “Let’s get this ball rolling.”
“As you wish, Dr. Michaelson.” One of the aides said, turning to a console and beginning to input a set of keystroke sequences that would activate their pretty little device.
On the underside of the space station, a gun turned and took aim on The Vanguard Beast from the distance. Its charging sequence was fairly long, but its projectile orb flew at such a rate that the bullet would impact Vanguard only a scant few seconds after firing. The effect of such wasn’t really known, but the test data held promising results.
After several long minutes of waiting, the gun’s ‘bullet’ fired, as proven by the green indicator light saying the projectile was away. Soon, they’d find out if their machine really worked, or if it’d just vaporize its target.
Vanguard still cut through swatches of adversaries, his blade rending their bodies to pieces as his claymore-like sword dug through their flesh and what passed for ‘bones’ with relative ease. He reached back, his sword coming above his head, its point aimed straight at the sky, to deliver a punishing, final blow to an enemy when it hit him.
What hit him wasn’t some great revelation, but a large blast of focused energy. Of a kind he was quite unfamiliar with this energy was, but it hit him all the same. His body, in that moment, ceased to exist. His consciousness was there, he could still think, and even see in some manner or another, but his physical being was gone. He felt himself being propelled, but through what he couldn’t have told anyone. The Marshall was around his body, he’d been fighting with and without it off and on. Using its weapons, and when things got too boring leaning out of the torso, by opening it of course, to use his sword.
He was freaking out, anyone would be – not knowing what was happening or where they were going, even with the sensation of movement being so evidently present.
What felt like an eternity was only a few moments, but the opening appeared on the other end. He saw it, and then it was upon him. He fell through a violet-blue haze, and into a bizarre world. With his body aimed head-first toward the ground, being propelled at nearly two thousand feet per second (and feeling more akin to a bullet than a person) he could see the city below. Buildings were in disarray, several of them seemed to have fallen in explosions, fire, and even one which must have been rather tall, seemed to have been shook to the ground.
Fault lines all around it read out Kuragari, though he wasn’t sure what the word meant, it intrigued him. Why would a person, if indeed a person had done this, cause such a thing as the spelling of a word? That seemed ridiculous. Especially if that word meant nothing to anyone, ever. Though, surely everyone on this planet had some familiarity with the word, or whatever had caused it to be spelled out wouldn’t have bothered…would they?
“Your thoughts aren’t secret to us, Vanguard. Now…um…where in the fuck are we, man?” Johann, who rarely cursed, was scared. His voice alone, projected from Vanguard’s lips, was enough to tell all seven of them that.
“I wish I knew, Johann. I wish I knew.” Vanguard responded, his earlier anger abated as he - locked inside The Marshall - slammed head-first into the ground at roughly twice his original speed. The impact caused an explosion of the ground, in the sense that stone and rubble were thrown for miles around, and a fairly large crater was formed, from the epicenter of contact.
The Marshall was heavily damaged, but Vanguard’s body was quite well. The torso piece opened, and he stepped out of the machine to take a look around. The nearest building he could make out, that was still standing, said: “Ben’s Chili Bowl, come and have a bite,” or some rubbish like that. He figured it’d be a good place to start figuring out where he was, though, and people were kind of…crowding around.
“Hey, can any of you dirty pieces of shit tell me where in the fuck I am?” Vanguard yelled over at the gathering crowd, in his usual pleasant manner.
"Anyone who cannot cope with mathematics is not fully human. At best, he is a tolerable subhuman who has learned to wear his shoes, bathe, and not make messes in the house."
— Robert A. Heinlein
Vero took a bite out of his Ben's chili bowl half smoke just as he heard what seemed to be someone outside angrily asking people for directions.
He then continued eating.
---Two Weeks Ago---
It was too late to be working, but here he was, slumped in his chair and signing off on reports with his new title of Secretary of Defense. There had yet to be any official confirmation on assuming this role, but his subordinates never gave any sign. He dismissed his guards a few minutes earlier, claiming he just needed a little extra time to lock up. With a sigh he turned to face the case holding his Suit.
Just a few more days and it will be complete. All these sleepless nights, but its so close to being perfect.
Just then, the door opened. It shouldn’t without proper authorization and yet there stood a man in the threshold, undeterred by a lack of clearance. He wore a gray, pin-striped suit and from the jacket withdrew a silenced pistol. Giovanni saw the gleam of the barrel and dove beneath his desk. Splinters trickled onto his head as the first shot missed. He grabbed a paperweight from a drawer and heaved it at the man’s hand.
The weight knocked the pistol free from his grip and Giovanni lunged for the case. He drew Julius from its docker’s clutch and fired while sprawled from the ground. It hit the assassin square in the chest and he disintegrated into a pile of green goo, melting through the carpet.
Now he needed a good night’s sleep and new furniture and flooring. At least one of those could be billed to the White House.
He had seen the broadcasts, something named Kuragari had set the Mall aflame with its name. What was worse, it could teleport. Covert teams had pinpointed the suspect and it looked like a man who stepped right out of the Matrix films. They also identified a giant of a man with a shock of white hair who may be related to the attack, but has yet to take any action. “Kuragari” was last spotted going into a restaurant, Ben’s Chili Bowl, and had yet to murder anyone else. He was shocked no one in the place recognized him, but Giovanni could hardly blame the average citizenry for ignoring the news. They dutifully evacuated the Mall and that was enough. Giovanni sat at his desk, hands clasped under his chin, intently waiting for his phone to ring.
“Good afternoon, Mr. President.”
“Giovanni, you know the Mall is ablaze and civilians are dead, why the hell aren’t you down there?”
“If I am to take on a more personal role as Secretary of Defense then I will require official confirmation that I hold such an office.”
The other end went quiet for a moment, with frantic, muffled whispers in the background. “Fine, your position will be ratified tomorrow, now—“
“One more thing, don’t count on your hitmen to get such a quick death next time. I’m itching to practice some interrogation.”
“But we didn’t attempt anything…” The president replied. His voice seemed sincere, but you can’t succeed in politics without being a damn good liar.
“Sure, sure, I’m on my way. You still owe me a new carpet.”
---Ben’s Chili Bowl---
His snipers were positioned all around the city block in various civilian costumes. Kuragari had some sort of short range telekinesis and it wouldn’t do to have them outed and incinerated before they could get off a clean shot. Giovanni strode in to the diner, the little green bull’s-eye in his HUD danced around the various patrons, so far there was no match. It wasn’t until he was near the counter than it flashed red in the corner of his eye. There was the bastard, calmly sitting there eating some coney rip-off while reporters bled out and a national monument crumbled. The cashier asked for his order.
“Yes, I’ll have a chili dog wi-“ A quick heel turn and he drew Octavian, eliciting a gasp from the employees and customers. An electric blue “bullet” shot forth from the silver pistol and struck Kuragari on the shoulder. A web of nanomachines enveloped his body in a blue field causing him to fall out of his chair and roll a couple paces on the ground.
Without a word, the soon-to-be official Secretary of Defense calmly picked him up and rested him on his shoulder like he was purchasing a new living room rug and walked out of the diner. Giovanni dropped the terrorist unceremoniously on the concrete with a metallic thud and hiss.
“Hope you aren’t dumb enough to think mass-murder and torching the National Mall won’t have consequences in this country. We’re bringing you into custody Kuragari, if that’s even your real name.” He finished with a sneer.
9/11 Never Forget
“Listen, man. You stop that cursing now, I got my young daughter with me and she doesn’t need to know all them words yet.” A young guy in the crowd of onlookers attempted to reprimand Vanguard for his words, and the way he chose to express himself. That in and of itself would rarely send Vanguard in a spree of homicidal madness, but today was different than a normal day. Today, he was confused, frustrated – and for the first time in a long, long time...afraid.
Not of any of the people around him, but of the situation in general. He’d long ago lost his fear of people, and their abilities to hurt him – most of them couldn’t really manage it. What scared him was not knowing. Where he was, what he was doing here. He had a thousand questions, and no answers. That frightened him. So, with the turmoil occurring inside his body, the man’s words served only to infuriate him.
“I’ll say any fucking thing I want, whenever the fuck I want. You stupid, fucking bitch. The fuck are you going to do about it anyway, huh? Cry like a bitch?”
As the words flowed out of his mouth, he’d begun moving forward. By the end of it he was only inches from the other man, his words came out in screams of rage. Spittle flew from his mouth with each enunciation of each curse word, being flung directly in the man’s face. The wild look in his eyes showed his inner insanity plainly, and before the guy even had a chance Vanguard attacked him.
His hand plunged through his chest, where he wrapped his talon-like claws around the human’s heart, and squeezed until it burst. He turned to the man’s daughter, looking down at the toddler. “DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING YOU WANT TO FUCKING SAY?” He screamed at her. She immediately burst into tears.
Annoyed by the sound of the crying, he snapped his right hand out and smacked her across the jaw. The force of the open-hand slap swung her head around a full one hundred and eighty degrees, dropping her limp body next to her father’s. Looking around, his rage began to abate – slightly. The looks of fear in the eyes of the people were something that he knew well, and so a certain familiarity began to grow between him and this place, this world.
As for the others, those who had begun to gather around to see what all the commotion was about, they’d immediately recanted their decision and begun scurrying to get away from the battle. It was, as he looked at the fear-filled masses dashing madly to be away from this awful place, that he saw a man dumping another on the concrete harshly. The attitude with which the unbound being walked, and the way he talked, made him think of the man as something akin to himself, so he began to make his way toward the diner’s front. At the same time, he began talking loudly toward the other guy.
“Hey, can you fucking tell me where I’m at, and how the fuck do I get back to Sector 10-9-2 from here? I mean, fuck man I’m lost as hell. Any ideas?”
Last edited by Aristocrat; 02-14-2012 at 10:23 AM.
"Hey, can you fucking tell me where I'm at, and how the fuck do I get back to sector 10-9-2 from here? I mean, fuck man I'm lost as hell. Any ideas?"
Vero looked at the man asking for. . .well in all honesty he had no idea what the hell the man wanted. Knowing this town it was more likely he was waiting for his next fix, and asking for money. He turned his gaze to the man who had just ruined his meal and then dragged him out into the streets. That was the man he was going to have problem with.
As he lay unable to move he began to focus on his entire body. It seemed he didn't have much room, but it was just enough to spark the fire he needed. Concentrating as hard as he could a flame engulfed the inside of the field that was holding him so tightly. He expanded the flame as best as he could heating it to temperatures of over 750 degrees celcius. When the flames completely surrounded Vero he pumped the heat up to 2500 degree's almost instantly. The resulting explosion caused the nano machines creating the energy net around him to shut off and burn.
He tested his extremities, and seeing that they were in working condition he decided now would be a good time to find out what the hell was going on.
"My name" He said as he pushed himself up to his knees and gained enough balance to stand on his own. Gaining his full height he drew his pistols aiming Zeymah at his attacker and Briinah at the man who was still walking towards the pair. "is Vero Kaivel."
Taking a few steps back Vero positioned himself further away from his attacker and in a better vantage point on the man that was still coming at them. Since he stood up Vero had noticed that there was an obviously dead man with a large hole in his chest and the headless body of a little girl laying on the pavement behind him, and what few people were left were looking at him in fear.
"That' far enough there friend. I'd stop."
Friend was more in a tone of rudeness and sarcasm than kindness. His broken memories let him to know his own daughter was murdered but not the circumstances. He despised child killers and wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in this mans head if he showed aggression towards him. As he spoke the hammer of each gun cocked back though neither was touched by his hands. A fire seemed to flare in his eyes as he stared at these two men. He was eager for a fight, but he wanted to know who these men were.
"So Mr. Suit wanna explain why my meal just got ruined by that fancy ass gun of yours?"
OOC: Sorry guys I know this post is terrible but it's all I got and I don't want to hold up this match anymore than I need to I should be back in the game after this.
Last edited by Vero Kaivel; 02-27-2012 at 06:05 PM.
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