Private/Closed Paragons Rising - A Superhero RP

[waluigipinball]

A happenstance, rather than a preference... she supposed they were similar in that aspect. Until today Fin had never worked alongside anyone, never attempted to use her powers to support an attack given by another. Today was... a revolutionary one, to say the very least. Most enemies she fought- no, faced- no, ambushed (though even that did not sound right) were vulnerable on a much more detrimental scale to her attacks, and had flesh that knife's edge could slice and sting. There had been no reason before to seek aid in others, and perhaps that had bred within her the distaste she felt toward being beholden to a team. If she was part of a team, not all decisions made in her life would be her own. She'd no longer get to choose who she hurt and who she helped.

Intently, though she tried not to stare, Fin listened to his inquiry. From his hesitation only hours before she felt stupid for not having seen this question coming. Hazel eyes followed his gesture, settling upon the report. His words- and his question- implied her suspicions from moments before. This display had been his doing. She shook her head, something he'd likely catch out of his periphery- she had not known who he was. In the commotion of the battle, there had been hardly enough chance to form the link. But then, would that have mattered to her if she had known? Did it now?

Pen blurred as swift as she could manage with her handwriting remaining legible, Fin resolved not to think much about her answer. He'd asked her for honesty, and the least she could do was provide it. I didn't make the connection. But I don't think it would have mattered. There it was; in her rush, she'd answered her own internal question as well. Working alone is thankless. You saved my life and I knew I could help you too. You did a good thing for me there, in that moment, and that's all that matters to me.

Maybe that was selfish. But gratitude was so seldom given when saving others as an unseen force- how could she have passed up the opportunity to give someone that? Fin insisted internally that she never wanted gratitude, notoriety, or even recognition. Yet within her... did this show that she wanted the validation of thanks, sometimes? Thanks, for hurting people, for damaging their ears and minds, for bleeding them. Wasn't that horrible? On some level she could perhaps understand why he did not understand her motives. Fin was not sure she understood it either.

Shuzo had asked her for honesty, however- and that was what she had resolved to give him, what she had given him. So, sliding the notepad back over to him, she let her eyes fall upon her blood smeared hands, her cracked knuckles. Oh, if mother could see her now, what would she think? When she had last seen her, the only thing Fin had ever used her powers for was to hurt her. She'd barely changed, but would that wan glimmer of good aid her redemption?

 

[OmnipotentOnion]

Shuzo Takeshi

His discomfort and original satisfaction to at least leave with some answers had slowly but surely built into a near desire for them, and as such, Shuzo had failed to keep his gaze forward, this time watching as Fin began to form her response. A shake of her head, a quick scrawl into her notepad. Knowing he was speaking with a telepath, he was well aware that such anticipation he now felt would likely be detected, a heavy blow to his façade. Yet, perhaps such walls were worth breaking if he could find the answers he sought, face the newfound agitation that had burrowed its way into his core.

As if in response to this sudden, minor, but still palpable shift in ideology, his own mind seemed to sound an alarm, once again reminding him of all he was taught, nearly screaming the creed he himself had been molded with back to him. Though he managed to receive the notepad with a steady hand when it was passed back to him, one cursory glance was all it took to reveal the storms of anxiety stirring in his eyes, dancing with a frenzy within his dark, crimson irises.

He read, silently taking in Fin's response to his question, reading the words slowly, then again quickly, then once more even slower. The longer he read, the more it seemed that he only saw the table behind the paper. What was it? Could he not understand what he was reading? Did he not want to?

I don't think it would have mattered.

He was a killer. Someone who put down criminals like dogs. His reputation, known by citizen and criminal alike, was not unbeknownst to him. Shuzo Takeshi had died 5 years ago, but the Bloodbolt had given him life. Vigilantism was the only thing he had to his name now.

You saved my life... You did a good thing.

He had never been driven by desire, or conviction. No sense of duty could keep him in the streets and shadows of New York, putting himself on the line to fight. He never felt anything, when his blade reaped the life of those who chose the wrong path, when his lightning burned through those who would harm the innocent. No.. it wasn't heroism. It wasn't serving the people. It was his job. The only thing he knew how to do.

You did a good thing for me there, in that moment, and that's all that matters to me.

Shuzo set the notepad down, his hand trembling noticeably more than before. The alcohol shook and stirred in the glass he now held, as the vigilante took another sip to hopefully calm himself down. As he swallowed, feeling the whiskey in his throat, he let out a sigh, setting the glass down, turning his gaze to the table. A few seconds of silence fell upon the two, but was soon broken when Shuzo spoke, his voice even quieter, wearier, yet still fortunately audible to the person next to him.

"I was just doing my job." Fin would recognize those words; the last time she'd thanked him for their first meeting, he'd responded similarly. He'd only seen someone in trouble, someone who needed help. And he'd helped her. He'd only been in the right place at the right time. However, something prevented Shuzo from leaving it at that.

"...You have a good heart, Fin.

...Just wish I still had some of mine left."

 

[waluigipinball]

Guilt wrung frigid hands around her throat for a moment, seeing the tremor of his palms, the visible and... noticeable anxiety that thrummed from him like heartbeats. Though Fin would never call herself unintelligent, it was not cleverness that lead her to work out that before her sat a truly broken person. It was... a feeling. A feeling she felt disgusting for having- she should not know his emotions, even as they showed themselves in the quaver of his hands and breaths. Brows flickered furrowed for a moment, a conscious effort made to distance herself from his mind, but the aura was still there. The body-language, too. Something about their discussion was clearly off putting, anxiety inducing, yet he carried on.

Just doing my job. She had heard those words before, dust obscuring her vision and the crackle of sanguine electricity still fresh in her memory. Ears rang then not from her own abilities but from the barrage of bullets whistling past her, the chorus of dissonant screams, the shambolic collision of power-upon-power. Spindled fingers inched the notepad back toward her, though she could not tear her eyes from his face, even at a side-angle.

He told her she had a good heart. How nice. If she had even slightly believed it a smile might have cracked at her lips, but with the weight of his melancholy and the rime-razed guilt that weaved cryogenic through her blood and bones, her face was statuesque stoicism. Would someone with a good heart, purely good, do the things she had done? On much different scales, crime syndicates versus thieves, she supposed therein lay the same problem.

At his final words before the air lay silent before them once again she wanted to leap up and shout, urge him that one with no heart would not bother saving anyone at all. With her guilt had at least come self control. Her tongue lay imprisoned in an iron cage, now. She barely knew this man, she had to remind herself, despite how quickly coincidence had brought them face to face again. Gingerly she raised her pen, took it to the page again. What happened to your heart? she wrote after a few moments, electing to mimic his own wording in an attempt not to overstep the precarious line between them.

Before passing it over she resolved to scribble something else. An assurance. It's ok if you don't want to say.

 

[OmnipotentOnion]

Shuzo Takeshi

'What happened to your heart?'

The notepad once again slid against his arm, granting him a brief respite from his building disquietude, and as he picked it up, Shuzo's eyes rested on those first words, almost completely ignoring the assurance quickly scrawled down below it. He turned to glance at Fin once more, though he quickly averted his gaze when he noticed she'd been watching him as well, perhaps even more intently. Abruptly returning his attention to the paper before him, and despite the haze of anxiety and uncertainty stirring in his mind, Shuzo pondered the question.

This was only their second meeting; they'd hardly spoken at all before this point, let alone to this extent, and though they both had helped each other in one way or another, it remained unreasonable to suddenly lay bare the details of his past. Furthermore, his past in particular was not something Shuzo felt Fin deserved to know. It was something he'd hoped to bury for years, to silence it anytime it tried to rear its head and remind him of the life he lived. If he couldn't live with the memories, he couldn't in good conscience burden others with such hardship. If he suffered, it was best suffering alone, not bothering anyone else or relying on them for help. After all, he was the only one...

...He was the only one who...

And he was back. The same beliefs, the same ideology that kept him chained to his reclusiveness and angst. His lessons repeated themselves, persuading him, urging him to stay on track. To focus on his job. What else could he do? What else did he have left? And yet, was he still truly as lost as he'd always been? Amidst his memories' reenforced presence, and his newfound confusion as to the opportunity he now saw to possibly come to terms with his burdens, Shuzo read the message once again, asking the question to himself over and over. What happened? It was then that he finally read the additional note below.

'It's okay if you don't want to say.'

Taking a deep breath, the vigilante pushed forward the glass in front of him, still half full, and when he signaled for the bartender's attention, he exhaled and made his request.

"Just a glass of ice water."

The barkeep nodded silently, and shortly after the water arrived, Shuzo took a long sip from the glass, feeling the coldness refresh his throat before setting it down and turning his gaze to the table below him. This time, when he responded to Fin's question, his lips would remain closed, his next words transmitted without sound.

A lot. Things that I can't say out loud. Maybe not even in my mind, either. I've been trying to keep it buried, but it always finds a way to resurface, and every time I so much as acknowledge it, I'm right back there again. But... if you truly want to know, maybe I can take you with me. Maybe... I won't be alone with myself for the first time.

With his resolve defined, Shuzo closed his eyes and, as vividly as he could, began to paint a picture. A boy, burdened by a future thrust so firmly upon him that he could do nothing but fracture. A soul living in isolation, emaciated and hollow, not even allowed to succumb to it all and die. A broken man, who soon lost the only human connections he knew, left with nothing but his chains of obligation. A mind strained well past its limit, unsure what to feel when his parents and oppressors were taken from him. A constantly fatigued body, driven by muscle memory to autopilot to the only thing it knew. And finally, an utterly shattered life, finally free of its curse, only for it to be replaced by another.

The voices of his parents rung once again in Shuzo's head and would likely be picked up by Fin's mind should she listen, and their words repeated themselves, stagnant in intensity, yet ever imposing as they looped. His body even seemed to flinch, feeling the sting of each command, every "lesson". With slightly trembling hands and gently wavering breath, the vigilante's eyes remained tightly shut, but as his recollections progressed, they slowly began to open, revealing a subtle glisten of tears on his hazy, crimson eyes, though a curt blink or two reverted them to normalcy, or at least a satisfactory modicum of it to him.

It didn't take long for the realization to set in that he'd just revealed every possible detail about him to this woman--a fellow superpowered vigilante who'd healed his injury, but someone he'd happened to meet purely by chance, regardless. However, though he'd initiated this conversation with a resignation to confusion and uncertainty, a quiet voice in the back of his mind seemed to convey a sort of relief, where he should have felt multiplied anxiety. For someone to whom human connection seemed utterly foreign, Shuzo couldn't help but acknowledge the presence of some catharsis upon recalling his past with someone else.

...Although that didn't stop him from turning to meet Fin's eyes and, after a few moments of silence, bringing a fist to his chest and making a circular motion, an apology for casting his burden upon her.

 

[waluigipinball]

Stillness floated between them, the ghost of her question a looming presence. She watched as his pupils flickered across her message, no words yet leaving him save for the request of another drink- though, a different kind than what was usually purchased at a bar, his previous beverage half-empty. Such a heavy question, up to relative interpretation but with obvious intention, was not one easily answered. That she understood- so, Fin welcomed the silence and the time. Whatever it took, should he wish to answer.

Pale hands rested- clasped- tightened at the sound of a voice, one she recognised, trudging through her thoughts. Shuzo's voice, delivered through the power of her telepathy. Things he couldn't say out loud. Fin looked; it was all she could do, eyes aswim with pathos and sobriety. A frowning brow failed to move from its position, her features shadowed by the weight of his every word. For a moment, when he implied he would take her with him, she did not understand. But as soon as at the forefront of her consciousness appeared a boy, instructions from adult voices thrust as quick and repetitive as whips upon him and swirling stern in her mind, she realised he was showing her his story.

Every mar upon his conscience, every strike to the ever-shattering glass of his life and being, every urge give up yet failure to do so washed over her like an algid deluge, horrifying her. Not in the sense that she regretted having known; simply the realisation that this man she had coincidentally befallen was someone whose entire self had been eroded away by wave upon wave of tragedy and uncertainty. Had he ever done something simply because he wanted to? Did, only inches beside her, sit a man who had lived his life purely and absolutely due to obligation?

And yet, he apologised with the familiar movement of hand on chest, a movement that parted her lips for a moment, a breath quickly taken in. She could not afford to be rash- not now, especially not now. Her lips fastened shut with the shake of her head, an assurance that he need not apologise. Pointing to herself, she mimicked his apology. She was sorry that he had to have gone through that, without reprieve or respite even once- though, in a purposeful movement she grabbed her pen and began to write in full view of him, intending him to see her words as she 'said' them. In all her years of silence, it was sometimes easy to forget that was how a real conversation was meant to work.

I know sorry doesn't fix anything, but I still am. I can't imagine how painful that was this still is for you. Some of his wording earlier- I won't be alone with myself for the first time- implied that this was a truth he had never shared with anyone but her. How awful, to carry such a burden as a lone sentinel since childhood. No wonder he felt as if there was nothing left within him. Could anyone bear to think there was, after that life? Thank you, she glanced up from her page, before continuing with finality, for telling me.

The look in Fin's eyes as she drew away from her page was near-unreadable, misted and glaze-shone. But within her heart and the depth of her irises laid tentative hope that somehow, some way, this had helped him. Just talking sometimes alleviated some pain, so she'd heard... if this counted as 'talking'.

 

[OmnipotentOnion]

Shuzo Takeshi

She'd responded quickly, shaking her head and returning his gesture to apologize herself. A cursory glance as they made eye contact revealed Fin slightly misty-eyed, the emotion in her irises unknown to Shuzo before she quickly returned to her notepad to form her response. He watched as she wrote, which seemed intended on Fin's part, as she kept the paper in between them if not nearly closer to his side of the bar.

She was sorry. She offered empathy and condolences, even thanked him for revealing the memories he'd fought so hard to suppress for more than fifteen years. Shuzo turned his gaze from the page and back to Fin's eyes once again, his own irises carrying a slight haze of confusion; he opened his mouth to speak, and though his voice had dropped to a hoarse whisper, his mind copied his words, guaranteeing that his response would be audible to the telepath before him.

"Why?"

He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. After all, he'd never been shown this sort of emotion, his hardships lent an ear. As he struggled to process what he was seeing, what he was reading, from this near complete stranger, Shuzo's crimson eyes revealed his confused efforts to comprehend his feelings, to address the growing, unknown emotion that creeped in the back of his mind when he'd revealed his past. And finally, when he realized what he felt at his core, fully, it showed. An insurmountable weight, suffocating his soul... yet, in this one exchange, seemingly lightened. His mind hadn't processed it yet, but when he felt his past's grip on his throat even remotely listen... it was like he could breathe again. Should Fin still have maintained the mental link between the two, she would hear first a strained breath, tight and shaky, but then... a heaved sigh of relief.

A few moments of silence passed between them, and Shuzo soon realized he'd been maintaining eye contact with Fin all this time. He curtly returned his gaze to the table before him, downing the rest of his water to clear his mind. It still stirred with uncertainty and confusion, and yet, a weight felt lifted, so Shuzo once again turned to face the one responsible and opened his mouth to speak. His voice was quiet and empty as ever, but in his words, the hoarseness that often accompanied them seemed slightly, but audibly smoothed.

"...Thank you. I don't know what this is. I don't know how to feel. But you helped me again. I'm in your debt. If we meet again, if you need the same help you gave me, you know how to reach me. Maybe then I can repay you for what this is you've done."

Despite his words, Shuzo felt uncertain in saying them. He didn't know how to offer this emotion he'd been granted for the first time in his life. He wasn't sure if he could provide the same catharsis that a telepath and healer could. However, within his insecurity remained a desire to repay what he was given. Maybe Fin would feel that.

Upon glancing at the clock, Shuzo noticed the time. It was past midnight, and in his experience, the time when crime was most active. As much as his conversation with Fin had left a mark on him, he wasn't a completely new person, and as such, his job maintained a heavier weight than himself. Especially now, when arms deals and destructive, unusually high-tech weapon attacks were starting to feel more and more recurring. With his offer to the person he could almost confidently call his first acquaintance given, Shuzo got up from his seat, gave his due payment to the bartender and gave Fin one last glance before making his way out of the bar. However, as she watched him leave, Fin would hear his voice transmitted to her mind one last time, carrying a heavy resolve, but perhaps ever so slightly lightened than before.

But it's back to work for me.

 

[The Alright Attorney]

Location Unknown - En Route to New York City​

"How's the video surveillance coming along back there Stranger?" The Soldier's booming voice echoed in the submarine, as she piloted the task force towards the same abandoned dock they had left from earlier that day. The sub was just big enough to fit the three of them comfortably along with their gear. sitting just behind Soldier was Stranger and Secret, the chrome creature silently studying footage from the Bionicron attack, trying to track where Alan had appeared from, and where he disappeared to. Despite having no eyes, Stranger still shifted their head from screen to screen, before eventually pausing the footage and passing the tablet to Stranger.

"We have no clear look from where he showed up...But it looks like the hero came from the underground, the sewers or the subways. How quickly he arrives and leaves, as well as not being spotted on any security cameras from any of the surrounding buildings, its likely he lives or at least is currently hiding in in the under belly of the city." The Stranger spoke out, the word's slithering out with his almost snake like voice.

"Understood. Once we hit the ground, we'll go under and make our way towards where Bionicron attacked, Martinson probably lives close to where the attack happened considering his quick appearance. This mission is to be done quick, and quiet. Lets not garner any unwanted attention." The rest of the ride was silent, there was no need to exchange words. Once the group had finally reached their destination, the trio geared. The Solider kept her gear light, small suppressed pistols, flash bangs, and smoke bombs. The Stranger had no gear on his body, but behind him floated a 7 foot tall metal cylinder, the size of a large column. The Secret carried no weapons, they didn't need one.

"Lets move out."

New York City Subway - Alan's Hideaway
​

"Alright, lets take a look at this thing." Alan muttered, dumping a bag of loose metal scrap he had picked up the past few days, including the Bionicron piece he had managed to scoop up. "Had to waste all those EMPs on that damn walkin'-n-talkin' scrap heap. Probably didn't do anything anyways." With a tired mutter, the scavenger rooted through his haul, bagging up anything useful, and tossing useless scraps to the side, landing on the ever growing pile of metal and wires. Eventually Alan got to the robot piece he nearly died trying to get his hands on. Despite being so small, the part was still made with immaculate precision finely crafted. Holding it with one hand, he lifted it up his ear, while his other hand lightly tapped on the piece.

"Doesn't sound hollow, might be something valuable inside." With that, Alan tried to break the piece open, using whatever tools he had with him to try and get the job done. But alas, the piece would not budge, Alan's gear either not doing anything or breaking upon contact. And through out this all, the piece did not got a single scratch, still looking polished, untouched, and perfect.

"What the fuck, never encountered anything this tough before. Shit almost looks..." Alan started to raise a hand to his face, but recoiling when he felt the cool metal of his artificial hand press to cheeks. Despite not being flesh and blood, Alan's robotic arm still shook ever so slightly, the former hero using his other hand to grab a hold to try and calm himself. "It almost looks Alien." He finally said aloud. Aliens were real, visitors from outer space. It was entirely possible this Bionicron was an alien himself, or at least made from similar tech. Maybe the robot was just made from some experimental government tech the public was unaware of, a material that came from this planet and Alan was just over thinking things. He'd rather not be to heavily involved with any aliens again any time soon.

What he was hoping would be a valuable piece of tech, turned out to be something Alan was deeply concerned about, choosing to pocket the thing and worry about it later. "I just need some sleep, get some shut eye and tackle this later." He said, noticing his voice was still a bit shaky. He was certain he was going to that dream again tonight, something he wasn't exactly looking forward to. Alan tried to avoid it by not sleeping before, but it only made things worse for him.

"This is the place." It was barely a whisper, but Alan heard it, quickly turning about only to be met with the door to his hideout breaking off, launching towards him with incredible force. He tried to dodge it, but without any sort of enhanced abilities, the door still clipped the side of his chest, almost knocking all the air out of him. He didn't have time to assess the situation instead Alan had grabbed ahold of his sonic weapon and took aim at whoever decided to pay him a visit.

"So this is the sort of place a hero end up living at. Guess Adapter never was an A-Lister after all." The voice of a woman spoke up, as Soldier walked in, with the Secret and Stranger just behind her, the trio easily blocking off any means of escape for the hero. Hearing his old super name easily shocked Alan, but he kept his face calm, his shaky eyes the only clear sign of the concern that now plagued his mind. How the hell did these freaks know him?

"Got the wrong guy. I'm no hero. If you saw me fighting that robot, that was just me trying to save my own skin." Alan lied, figuring it was all he could really do in this situation. This only resulted in the bellowing laughter of the Solider, as she pulled out one of her suppressed pistols and aimed it at Alan.

"Right sorry, You're just Martin these days. You know using half of your last name is a pretty shitty way to hide your identity Alan." She said through her chuckles, keeping her gun trained on Alan. "Now, why don't we make this nice and easy. You give us what we want and you'll get the most lavish cell we have back home." Soldier said, Stranger floating forward. "We are looking for a piece of the beast that you fought earlier. We know you have it. We don't want you dead. I don't want you dead." The Stranger spoke out, the strange soft, but snake like voice sending a coo, chill down Alan's spine. But the woman's words suddenly caused Alan to think back to earlier that day, remembering the two that fired a weapon at him while he was looking for parts of Bionicron.

"You mean you're here to retrieve the piece you missed. That gun you got there another fancy light show?" Alan wasn't sure if taunting the woman with a gun trained on him was the best move, but maybe it could throw her focus off. Instead, Soldier just fired off the pistol, showing a real bullet firing out, piercing through Alan's work bench and lodging itself into the floor, before quickly training her sights back to the hero.

"Our boss wants you alive, but I'm sure he can do just as many experiments on a cadaver." Alan quietly made a note of her words. They had a boss that seemingly knows who he is and wants to do some sort of tests on him. The woman seemed so confident in her abilities that she was just openly divulging this sort of information. With the other two flanking her sides, it was going to be difficult to get out of here unless he could distract them. With hardly any gear on hand, he had only one possible solution in mind. A last ditch attack he was hoping he'd never have to pull out. Alan didn't respond to Soldier, instead keeping his blaster trained on her with one hand. while the other, artificial arm started to press it's fingers into it's palm, entering a precise combination of button presses.

"Thats great and all, but I'm not going anywhere." Alan responded sternly, raising his arm and pulling down the sleeve of his coat to reveal the robotic arm now had a countdown timer on it and soft beeping began to sound from it. "The four of us have 1 minute, and then this thing goes boom. taking out all of us and your precious Bionicron piece. I don't know your boss but I doubt he'd be pleased by that."

"You're bluffing."

"I got no reason to bluff right now." Alan responded quickly, glaring down at the Soldier. "You kill me now and the thing goes off immediately. So I suggest you leave now if you value your lives." With 30 seconds on the clock, the trio refused to move, Alan cursing in his head quietly. What sort of death wish did these freaks have. With even less options now, Alan threw out his last possible option, literally. Detaching the arm and tossing it at the three.

"Shit, Stranger, get that thing out of here!" Soldier spoke, the alien following orders and using it's limited telepathic powers to grab the arm out of the air and tossing it out the door. This was enough to let Alan slip past the Stranger, running towards the door, while Solider fired off at the fleeing hero. As soon as Alan was out the door, The Secret sped out and began to chase him. In this short span of time, everything seemed to slow down, Alan running towards the closest exit to get above ground, and the S.P.A.R.D.A. task force following right after him. And just behind them all, an arm turned bomb flying through the air.

"3."

"2"

"1"

BOOM!!
​

The explosion rocked the subway and the ground just above it, as a hole had now found itself in the ceiling, no longer separating the subway from the world above. Screams rang out, cars suddenly swerving to avoid the hole, and crashing into one another, while a speeding train now made its way down the tracks, unaware of the rubble that now sat in it's path. The conductor had no time to react, and the train crashed into the rubble knocking it off the tracks and crashing into the side of the subway, the chaos of this one bomb continuing to grow. Alan eventually reached the surface, seeing the city civilians running away as fast as possible, while the trio that attacked him rose up and out of the hole from the explosion.

"Three against one Adapter. What are you going to do?"

 

[Void_Nugget]

Damon Angelos
As he sat there quietly, Damon listened to the group talk, as one mentioned forming a team he took a long swig of his drink, finishing it and then standing "well, I'm gonna take my leave. You guys have fun with your little superhero team, it was great meeting you all, but I've got to get home and change" he said turning and heading for the door. Just as he reached the door he heard the TV change to a breaking news report. A massive hole seemed to have appeared near the docks, he glanced at the screen for several seconds before shaking his head, "nope, not again, the bloody robot was enough for one day" he muttered leaving the establishment and sticking his arm out for a taxi.

 

[waluigipinball]

Why- that was an answer she could not give, for she did not know it. Such a simple question in concept with a waterfall of answers at its disposal, Fin found she could not answer. It seemed she needn't, at least; their eye contact held, held, held, until finally his lips parted to speak. Tightening her jaw, she felt something in her mind- she swore she had, moments before- a feeling of relief. Slight, but tangible. Perhaps even a breath- though above the din, and past where her attention now rested, she could spend little time pondering.

In her debt. She was content with gratitude, and shook her head slightly. What really did he owe her? What had she done that was above saving a life? Lent an ear, sewn a minor slash? Gratitude was enough... but she felt, and saw- mostly felt- that Shuzo truly wanted to repay her. Though... was this a want? Or was this just more of the same obligation that he had been a servant of his whole life? Fin wished not to be part of that cycle- but oh, she did hope it was a want. One day she could perhaps use an ear- a mind, even. One day. When something bad happened, a support system would be nice.

When something bad did happen. Not... now. A smile, hesitant but there, laced her lips- a farewell, as she nodded her head. When he caught her eye she still had not let her face fall- and, in a tiny gesture, she lifted her hand up in a wave good-bye before he was gone. If coincidence kept striking them like this, she was sure they would meet again. It's back to work for me, he said, and where he was off to she would not ask. She had not the energy for a return message- though perhaps, along the line before it broke, Shuzo might have felt a slight buzz of apprehension. Hope.

Strained eyes found the time- ah. Shuzo had the right idea in taking his leave... and besides, after this onslaught, and a whole lot of rushing, Fin was quite ready to completely turn in for the night. Before she left, she was sure to slip a note to one of the triplets; Thank you for the drinks. And out into the night did she flee. At a reasonable pace, of course.

As nice as the company had been, both from Shuzo and the other superpowered individuals she had met, it was... pleasant, to have her mind to herself once again. Once people learned of her powers- which was generally not often, though she supposed today had been any day to be reckless- they tended to like using them. It was nothing she held animosity toward- when other people spoke to her, it did not hurt- but it was nice to have no stray voices. Just her own breaths, her own footsteps-

BOOM!

The sound, far away but... reachable, shattered her tranquility. A disgruntled scowl crumpled her features; what now? First it had been a robot, threatening the extinction of all- then other powers flinging about, a mess of a display- then drinks, then a team, then the-

Control yourself, Finley. Firm, her inner voice spoke, addressing her by her full name just as her mother had. It always did. It was the only way she could get herself to listen. Fingers slacked, and she rolled her hands back into fists- nearby she heard the scattering drop of several pebbles that had lifted into the air briefly. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Even a brief lapse could be detrimental- what if it happened in front of someone, what if they argued until she couldn't hold her temper anymore? She'd do it again. She knew she could.

Another stone floated eye-level now. Control yourself. Commotion screeched distant, adamant on grating her- but she blocked it out,catching the stone in her hand. Not now, not now. She needed- a few moments to herself, a glass of water, something. This was her building coming up, anyhow. Diving inside, the woman decided she would have no part in this chaos. This would not be her fight. None of this should have ever been.

 

[DevVoid]

Mr. Miracle
If you people are willing, I think we should put together a team of our own.

Well, there it was. Maybe not coming from the person he was expecting these words to speak out, but still, a suggestion he had figured would come sooner or later in this celebratory round. Granted, he was not used to working in teams.. Not that he hated working in teams, in fact, he could work with others quite well. It just never occured to him to have a team, or even just a sidekick follow along with his duty - or be a sidekick to someone else. However.. though his magic shows may have to be put on hold, training and working together with a team of people like him.. people with powers.. now THAT shows promise. Interest. Curiosity.

But just as he was about to speak, a rumble came along and interrupted him, alongside a loud, booming sound. How peculiar. Another fight, perhaps? Another machine, or perhaps a fellow super-powered individual? Possibly just plain terrorism? Whatever the case, Terry couldn't possibly just sit idly by and listen to the chaos unfold. There were lives at stake and the peace was being disrupted! A hero.. or perhaps even some heroes will need to step up to the cause!

With a graceful backwards jump, Hagen stylishly flipped out of his chair, landing with a lightweight tap on the ground, slow as a feather. With a tip of his hat and a slide of his magic wand out his other sleeve, he pointed with his trusty tool towards the group.

" Well, to those willing to band together.. it seems our first mission has already started. It's now or never. Shall we? "

 

[The Dark Fairy]

~~Kerco~~
As he expected, there were varied reactions to his suggestion, and he took his time on another pull of his wine to let the implications sink into the other supers. Just as he was about to make a celebration, he heard a cracking and rumbling outside. He pushed his chair back to stand up.
Mr Miricle made an announcement about this being some kind of mission. "Yes, well let's go see what it is before jumping to conclusions." He stated before making his way out of the bar to look outside. He saw the hole in the ground, and the four people standing above it.
Kerco heard the agents make their declaration, and decided he would try and take action here. It might have been uncharacteristically heroic of him, but it would help him out in the long run if he pulled it off. Moving behind the agents, making them forgot any glimpse or footstep they perceived of him as he circled behind them. Using their focus on the super to draw his knife, wrapping his arm around his arms and chest of the person who spoke, and using the other to hold his knife to the agent’s throat. “Well, if you wanted 3 on 1, you picked the wrong place to have a fight.”

~~Amanda~~
Amanda did not have the chance to respond when a loud, thunderous boom was sounded, and she sat strait up and moved outside, walking past Mr Miracle mid backflip, two of her going outside to see what happened while one spoke to Mr Miracle “Enough with the drama magic man, get outside if your going.”
Amanda whitenesses the scene, the two that were outside quickly joined by the third before she moved around the street, moving to get closer to the apparent victim of the situation.

 

[OmnipotentOnion]

Shuzo Takeshi

Metal screeched against stone, ringing through the dimly lit room to a slow, thorough rhythm. The silhouette of a man sat in the middle of the living space, his features just barely illuminated by the flickering ceiling light, as his hands pushed and pulled in front of him. He'd already been dressed in his vigilante attire, scarf wrapped around his neck but pulled down below his face, and his eyes, fully revealed and empty as always, rested heavily upon the whetstone before him. His arms, almost in a robotic motion, devoid of life or vigor, pushed the edge of his blade against the stone, slowly and smoothly. However, though his movements seemed monotonous, the vigilante's mind felt all the more turbulent, once again at war between clashing emotions and desires.

For the first time in his life today, he'd felt truly vulnerable. Not simply broken, nor resigned to his chains: just... laid bare. The secrets he'd suppressed, the memories he'd buried, they were displayed in clear sight for the only person who would dare to help him. Her words echoed in his head: her sympathies, her curious inquiries, her gratitude. They settled uneasily in his core, stirring as they formed an abnormal concoction with the lectures and lessons that had first been solidified there, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. In a single, yet prolonged blow, his conviction had faltered, his lifelong punishment given an abrupt pause.

And yet, he felt relief. He felt alive. One moment, no matter how small, yet just enough for him to breathe. He'd suffered so long with a clamp on his soul, a boot on his throat, that he'd forgotten how it felt to live without a weight on his shoulders. To the person who'd given him such respite, he'd also been given purpose. A true desire to repay the emotion she'd granted him, unbound by his creed of obligation. However, such new, alien feelings couldn't possibly be fully realized in one day, and amidst his newfound sentiment, he felt free, but lost. An escaped prisoner with nowhere to go now that he was out, and in tandem with his uncertainty, his memories once again reared their head to pull him back to the chains he'd bound himself in. If he couldn't act upon the opportunity he was given to treat his wounds, he would be right where he'd started.

BOOM!!
​

A resounding explosion suddenly broke his train of thought, shaking the floor beneath him and prompting him to avert his eyes from the blade before him. It was powerful, yet faint and distant, and as the room settled, the man slowly rose to his feet, taking hold of his sword. Drying the wet steel against his clothed elbow, he returned it to his sheath, and with nothing more than a silent pull of his scarf over his nose, he made for the door and stepped outside. The unease building within him had been quelled, abruptly and forcefully, and as he set a course for the direction from which the blast had come, the only emotion in his eyes was a quiet, steeled resolve.

- - -

The streets were once again filled with chaos: civilians fled in the pandemonium, cars drove wildly to avoid the chaos yet ultimately added to it, and amidst the ordeal stood individuals on two distinct sides, prepared for battle. However, despite the standoff taking the focal point in this sudden explosion, there yet remained the concern of innocent people at the mercy of the disorder that continued to build.

Suddenly, shortly following the booming eruption that had caused such chaos, there came a low, ominous rumble of thunder, then, without warning, a resounding crash of lightning as crimson-hued bolts arced through the midnight sky. A similar scarlet flash soon made its entrance onto the scene at the ground below, skipping across building roofs, racing down the street, and yet, as it swiftly approached the supers gathered before it, it rushed past them, avoiding the group and making for the hole in the concrete. Without hesitating, the source of the blur soon made its intent known, as it swept away the injured and fleeing, relocating them to safety from the impending conflict.

Within a few minutes, the vicinity was cleared of all potential casualties, and any eye following the bolts of lightning would finally identify the man behind them, standing on a nearby roof and silently overseeing the scene from above. His body coursed with similarly hued electricity as he stood, and his hand rested on the hilt of his blade. He waited to make his move, opting to see what would unfold before deciding to what extent he would be involved. If this was a case similar to the ones he'd been following as of recently, he wouldn't waste a second in following this possible lead and finding the root of the problem.

 

[DevVoid]

Mr. Miracle
And with the rest of the newly-formed crew of supes, the Miraclous Man headed on over to the source of the sound, finding a hole in the ground, people panicked and a fight to have broken out. Of course, with the chaos here, he needed to help those who couldn't fend for themselves first. But.. as he turned, he spotted flashes of red sparks and electricity about in the air, everyone quickly being re-located. Though now was no time to personally thank whoever did this.. Terry was grateful nonetheless.

For now.. he could start using more of his power as opposed to holding back to save those around him from further damage. Obviously, he still had to keep things down due to not wanting to initiate friendly fire on his allies.. but with the civilians out of the way, Miracle could do more than just deflect projectiles and clear debris. He could finally fight.

His body now enveloped itself in a prismatic energy, ever-changing colours glowing from his eyes and outlining his body in the form of a rainbow energy. As if made out of magic (little did anyone know that it actually was), his body begun changing shape. His limbs grew in mass as he went on all fours, his cape twisting and turning into a tail. His teeth grew razor-sharp, as did his fingernails. From where he was once human, he was now a all-black jaguar, his topaz-yellow eyes glimmering with the same prismatic energy that allowed him to metamorph himself into this form as his body remained charged with the magic energy, prepared to fire out blasts at a moment's notice.

Stanced up and on guard, Miracle spoke through this new form, low growls following this new deepened, rough voice of his automatically. His speech would not be suiting his new form at all, as despite this new menacing look, the personality and attitude of 'Mr. Miracle' would still shine on through even now.

" There's nowhere to go, villains! Surrender to Law and Justice or face severe consequences! "

 

[The Alright Attorney]

What was once an uneven match up with no hope for Alan's survival, quickly turned around as suddenly multiple supers arrived on the scene. It didn't take long for the would-be heroes to secure the scene by removing any civilians and getting The Soldier locked with a knife to her neck. Her face had a brief flash of shock, clearly trying to understand how she was suddenly in this man's grip. Despite this, she calmed herself, speaking out in relaxed tone. "Now sir, we don't know each other. You just arrived on the scene and choose to attack me? My comrades and I are here to stop that man, after he blew that hole in the street. He stole something from us, and in an attempt to escape, threw an explosive at us." She explained, her eyes glancing towards either of her companions. "You don't want to make any rash decisions and be met with harsh consequences."

"That's a load of bullshit and you know it." Alan quickly retorted, as he quickly scanned the heroes that had arrived. All of them were people from the robot attack earlier. He specifically recognized the one that pinned Soldier as the one that he spoke with about making some kind of plan. Even if that plan didn't work, Alan at least hoped this mystery man recognized him. "These three came here to steal some piece of that bot I secured. Don't know what for, but they didn't ask nicely." Alan said, showing off his now missing arm. "Had to resort to some drastic measures." He gestured towards the hole in the ground, hoping that would fill in the heroes enough about the situation.

Stranger and Secret both seemed to tense up, seemingly ready to strike, but with a slow raise of the hand, Soldier had stopped them. "Now, now, I think we can all talk to this out and not get violent. Afterall..." She glanced towards the knife pointed at her neck. "I don't think 'Hero slits woman's throat' would make for a very attractive headline." She was very clearly trying to deescalate the situation, but what she would do afterwards still remained a mystery.

 

[The Dark Fairy]

~~Kerco~~

Kerco remained fixed in place, carefully making sure she did not try to draw any weapons or pull a clever move to escape. He gave a small smirk, not that the agent could see that “I’m a very reasonable person, but I do have to warn you, I never have been afraid of headlines.” He said, making sure she knew he meant business “I trust Adapter far more than you lot, so just let him go, and we will talk, like civil people, no chases or bombs involved.”

~~Amanda~~

Amanda didn’t really know what was happening, but she started to walk around the currently, and surely temporarily calm battlefield to better surround the agents.