13, April 4:52 PM
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Bagrat
(Original Poster) (The Guy in the Know)
Posted on April 13, 2011:
I've just received confirmation that our very own Armsmaster has indeed managed to subdue Lung. Link [here] for details.
(Showing Page 10 of 37)

► DrainBread
Replied on April 13, 2011:
HOLY SHIT HE ACTUALLY DID IT

► Sliver_King
Replied on April 13, 2011:
Awesome! Hopefully this is the start of the heroes making a comeback.

► BluntedPike
Replied on April 13, 2011:
Sliver_King that is literally the single most naive statement I have ever heard out of anyone, anywhere, ever.

Ever.

► XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied on April 13, 2011:
Bout time the white hats did something useful for once

► 8Northman8 (Temp-banned)
Replied on April 13, 2011:
USER HAS BEEN TEMP-BANNED FOR THIS POST: is it really so hard to be civil? - Tin_Mother

► LawnchairPoster
Replied on April 13, 2011:
How the hell did Armsy manage it anyway?

BluntedPike no reason to be a cock about it either

► Bagrat (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know)
Replied on April 13, 2011:
Apparently some kind of super potent tranquilizer that might as well have just been straight up poison at that point. Apparently they had to have Lung on life support for a bit to combat loads of necrotizing tissue

► HalfLife3When
Replied on April 13, 2011:
Bagrat sauce?

► Bagrat (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know)
Replied on April 13, 2011:
Right [here]

► Leap_Second
Replied on April 13, 2011:
hooooooooooooooo boy that sounds straight up mean. I mean Lung is a bastard of monstrous proportions (pun intended) but still

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ...8, 9, 10, 11, 12 ... 35, 36, 37

"I...can't...believe that...Lung...is fucking...dead...POST."

Within seconds after Leo posted it, he'd been slapped with an infraction, stating that it was in extremely poor taste to make demonstrably false claims. Well excuse me for having a sense of humor, he thought to himself with an incongruous sense of indignation.

"Hey guys! Apparently Armsmaster finally found a way to take Lung down."

John had done a bit of a double-take at that. "Lung. The Lung. The big angry dragon that is the SOLE reason that the Azn Bad Boyz have any territory at all and haven't been curbstomped into the ground by the Empire. We're talking about the same guy?"

"Yes…" replied Leo, slightly confused at John's incredulity. "And wait, doesn't the ABB have that other guy, Oni Lee? Teleporting suicide bomber?"

"First, Oni Lee is nothing on his own and everyone knows it. Secondly, that still doesn't make any fucking sense. Lung's been practically untouchable for a while now; he's won pretty much every single fight he's been in, and those times that he didn't win he still forced a bloody stalemate. He's won 1v4 against the hero capes at least half a dozen times that I can remember, and definitely 1v6 vs the Empire at least twice. Who took him down again?"

"Armsmaster, I already told you this."

"No you fucking moron; I mean who else was with him?" John snapped.

"Oh….lemme see here…" Leo skimmed the original article once more. "Says here he did it solo."

"I smell the mountain of horseshit filtering through your screen from here. Hell fucking no he did that on his own. I'd sooner believe that Cricket had a black girlfriend."

Petyr had just unlocked the door at that moment, decidedly feeling like he'd just walked in on the strangest conversation. "Do I want to know how you got onto the topic of interracial lesbians?" he asked, while lugging in several bags of groceries.

"Leo is a gullible motherfucker who read somewhere online that Armsmaster took Lung into custody solo, and I merely expressed my disbelief in such a notion," John responded, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

Petyr raised an eyebrow. "Well, whether or not he did it solo is definitely up for debate, but on my way back, the news channel confirmed that Lung was arrested and is now in PRT custody."

John blinked. "HOW? Did they say what they took him down with?"

"Allegedly enough tinker-made tranqs to take down a herd of elephants or some bullshit. Shit that should be lethal, but isn't because, well, he's Lung," Petyr responded, starting to load the smaller fridge with the 17 full rib racks he'd purchased.

"Still, to hit him with the tranqs in the first place would mean that he hadn't started fighting yet because you're not convincing me that any darts are getting through his scales; tinker or not. Which, then, would imply a drastic shift in tactics overnight, and the PRT is not known for that. And furthermore, why now? This sounds like it could've been done years ago without too much trouble. Halbeard's built way more bullshit toys than some tranqs; you can't convince me he just last week figured out how to do it."

"I'm not saying I buy the explanation either, I'm simply telling you what was reported. Which definitely sounds like they're hiding shit," Petyr replied.

"Authorities withholding information," yawned Gabriel as he swung his arm to test how his ribcage was holding up. "In equally unsurprising news, grass is green and water is wet."

"I'm a little more worried about the power vacuum. Nazis might capitalize," stated Leo. He looked back at Petyr who continued to pack the fridge. "Okay seriously, what's with the sudden excessively carnivorous diet?"

"Oh, that? We got new teammates. Boss man vetted them and everything. One of them is a case 53; hence the meat."

Leo frowned. "I still don't follow."

As if on cue, a creature with the head of a wolf, a gorilla-like body, and a scorpion tail walked into the main room, and turned its attention to Leo. "It's mostly my payment. Eating stray animals and/or people is frowned upon; this is the next best thing. Name's Chimera."

Gabriel and Leo kept their reactions to a minimum. John however, began to jump up out of his seat with a yelp of surprise that began to drop several octaves as a red aura manifested itself around him. He was frozen in mid leap, about a foot off the ground.

"Does he normally do that?" Chimera snorted.

Petyr softly chuckled. "Doesn't appear to be a voluntary reaction; hell he just found out about it two nights ago when we got in a fight he thought he might actually lose. He'll come out of it in a bit. Hopefully before the other two show up." After a few more seconds, John's aura began to fade, and he caught himself.

"Happened again, didn't it?" he said, composing himself. "Well then. Nice to meet you. Name's John. Impulse in the field. I guess you've already met Petyr aka Artificer before. The runway reject over there is Leo; cape name Antares. The tall guy over there is Gabriel, and he currently holds the fucking worst cape name in Brockton Bay with 'Jace Beleren.'"

"So, with that out of the way, when are the other guys showing up?" John continued.

"Already here, actually, for...exactly 74 seconds," an unseen woman's voice spoke from the middle of the room. Once everyone had turned their attention to the source of the noise, the air distorted as two people appeared to shimmer into existence.

"Now THAT is certainly one way of making an entrance!" exclaimed Leo, while everyone else blinked in surprise. "At some point in the future would you mind repeating that while I film it? Because the transitioning aesthetic looked marvellous."

"I can already tell we're going to get along," said the taller figure to Leo, while the shorter woman shook her head slightly. "Name's Morty most of the time. Occasionally, instead it's 'dumbass', or 'asshat', or some variation on that theme. She's Ren. On the clock, we're Cloak and Dagger."

-
10:52 PM

Gabriel's phone began to ring. He didn't need to check the caller ID to know it was Coil. He put it on speaker. "Coil," he greeted.

"Jace. I trust your team is currently present and within earshot?"

"All present and accounted for."

"Good. I have an assignment for you should you choose to accept it. It will commence roughly 13 hours from the present moment. You will be assisting a second mercenary parahuman group headed by Faultline."

"Assisting in what, exactly?" Dagger asked.

"An extraction of sorts. Specifically, I require the safe delivery of Dinah Alcott."

"You mean a kidnapping," Dagger stated flatly.

"To be direct, yes."

Dagger's frown grew a hair more severe, and Cloak shied away from her a fraction.

"In case anyone was unaware, she is the mayor's niece," Coil supplied. "The next election cycle due to begin within a few months. I already control the two most likely challengers, but I should like to hedge my wagers by controlling the incumbent as well."

Impulse cut in next. "Sounds a bit bold dunnit? You have to be talking some serious cash to make it worth the kind of risks we'd be running" he pointed out.

"Faultline's mercenaries are quite capable, and I've already leveraged my influence to mitigate many of the risks that you are concerned with in the first place. As for compensation, I am willing to pay $50,000 upon completion."

Impulse slowly leaned back in his seat. "Don't get cheap on me. Seventy." A few moments passed in silence.

"Will sixty-five suffice?" Coil offered.

Impulse let out a small sigh after a moment. "It'll do."

"Good. Does anyone have any objections?"

"Plenty." Jace managed to inject a surprising amount of venom into that single word without raising his voice or lowering his pitch. His eyes were glowing a bright purple, and he failed to prevent the occasional ember from flaring up on his forearms. "I'm not aiding a kidnapping. Not fucking happening. You want to hit the ABB, the E88, or the Merchants? I'll gladly do that every day of the fucking week and twice on Tuesdays. Hell, I'll fucking hit the Protectorate without hesitation if you show me a big enough skeleton or two in their closet. Kidnapping? Fuck no, and especially not a goddamn kid. I'm sitting this one out."

"Wow. Way to fuck up the floor with all the blood leaking out of your heart there," Impulse drawled. "Anyone else sitting it out?"

"Punching fun dudes is kidnapping kidnapping. Kidnapping dudes who could presumably pedo. Yeah, I'm not entirely on board with pedo. Punching dudes who could presumably on board with this eith this fun; kids is fun; kids is eith this really pedo. Yeah, I'm not entirely pedo. Yeah, I'm not entirely," Cloak stammered, seeming to spontaneously lose control over his speech.

Dagger visibly winced, shrinking in on herself slightly. "Yeah...what he said," she sighed. Artificer was the last to opt out of the job.

"Very well then," came Coil's voice. "I shall send instructions to Impulse, Chimera, and Antares. Good night."

-
11:35 PM

"Don't do anything stupid."

That was the last thing that Petyr had said before Gabriel left the house. Given that Gabriel had taken one of his spare masks with him, hidden under his jacket, Petyr's concerns were not unfounded.

Gabriel felt absolutely sick to his stomach. He knew that this mercenary gig was going to piss him off eventually; he just didn't expect it to happen this quickly.

This is exactly the kind of fucking shit I wanted to prevent; to be able to pick fights against the drug and weapon and human traffickers, the protection racketeers, the uniformed lynch mobs. Because apparently the powers that be seem completely incapable of handling it their way. Why the fuck did I let that bitch convince me I was going to really be able to do any of that working for Coil? Why am I this fucking stupid?

As he continued ruminating on nature of his 'employment', he felt a tug on the reserve of power he'd drawn upon back at the now-razed warehouse. He felt it shrink by a small fraction, but a perceptible reduction nonetheless. To compare the sensation to the sudden acute nausea after a well placed punch to the liver would be an understatement. It felt more like a part of his very being had been drained.

More troubling was the fact that he felt a second auxiliary power source flaring up. This one felt far more volatile, more primal, more brutal; after all, it was the reason he'd left the base in the first place.

He hopped on a bus going towards the boardwalk, hoping that a pint or seven might calm him down some. He'd initially headed towards the back of the bus for his seat, but reconsidered upon spotting two teenagers with E88 tattoos. They audibly sneered at him as he stopped a few rows short. They think I'm scared of them, he mused. They're half right. I'm scared. Scared of how much fun I'll have vaporizing their flesh, reducing them and the pavement they stand on-

Gabriel forced his hands to unclench, and tried to calm down. Chill. Chill the fuck out you lunatic, he mentally repeated, trying to fight the sensation of pressure building up everywhere underneath his skin. Distractions, distractions, MUSIC. He began to drum his fingers on his knee in various patterns. 1-e-and-a, e-and-a-3-e-and-a, e-and-a-1-e, a-2 and 3 and-a-4-e-and-a…..

Gabriel got off at his stop, double checking that the new hires didn't decide to follow him. I almost hope they do, then I -, NO no no no, stop that Gabe. You fucking stop that right fucking now you belligerent piece of shit. He took one last look over his shoulder as he rounded the upcoming corner, and grimaced. The two goons had decided to follow him after all.

He purposefully overshot his destination, continuing to walk towards the more decrepit streets. I'm really gonna regret this, but I'm in a vindictive mood right now, so fuck it. They want a target, I'll paint myself like one. He listened for the acceleration of their footsteps, trying to gauge exactly how much space he had to work with. He stopped next to an alleyway and spun around to face the two, using every ounce of self restraint to prevent any stray embers or sparks from appearing.

"In case both of your mothers failed to teach you any manners, stalking people is widely considered to be extremely rude."
"Yeah, fuck you too wiseass," replied the smaller of the two, who was about a half foot shorter than his buddy. He looked to be around 16, and clearly posturing to try and impress his friend.

"If you want something, make it quick; I got places to be," Gabriel spoke, in as level a tone as he could manage. Last chance, he thought to himself, concentrating a very faint aura of plasma around his hands.
The larger goon stepped forward. He was still shorter than Gabriel, but not by much. "Well, the Empire puts in a lot of work trying to keep these streets clean of the degenerates. It's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it. That takes capital, and this interaction right here, well let's call it 'fundraising,'" he stated.

"Right. I forgot you guys were trying to secure the monopoly on being degenerate shitstains. Now is the part where you kindly fuck off. You're both fucking cowards anyway, so-"

Gabriel stopped talking just in time to bring up his arm up to block the incoming knife slash. His jacket took the brunt of the blow, but it still left a nice cut along his forearm. He reached out with the other arm to grab his assailant's wrist, and forced some current through the arm. With the attacker's arm temporarily disabled, Gabriel stepped back, grabbing and torquing the man's wrist until he was off balance, and his arm hyperextended.

"Like I said," Gabriel spoke as he reared his other arm back. "Fucking," -he drove a punch right at the vulnerable elbow joint, eliciting a yelp of pain- "-cowards-" he delivered a second, and felt the bones shatter underneath. He released his grip on the wrist.

The knife dropped from the larger goon's hand as his arm went completely limp, as Gabriel reached for the man's throat. He caught it, and squeezed, supplying a bit of current to interfere with anything else his opponent might try. I'm going to enjoy cooking your spine you mis-NOPE not doing that. Calm down you fuck. Gabriel took a slow deliberate breath.

"What the fuck are you so scared of that you joined a gang? Think about how much of a pussy you have to be to continually-" Gabriel looked over to where the smaller kid was standing. "-well look at that, your buddy bounced. Tell you what. I'm feeling nice tonight. I'm going to let you go, and you're going to leave. Quickly. Try anything or make any noise, and I'm going to regret letting you go. You do not want me to do that."

He released his grip. The man took several shallow breaths, before scrambling away as best he could.

Gabriel looked down at the bleeding cut, and let a small wave of plasma run down his arm to cauterize the wound. Satisfied, Gabriel walked back to the bar that was his original destination.

-
1:22 am

"...and the fucking ABB dudes were harassing my dad's shop all the fucking time. Always wanting more and more money until one day he and I made the mistake of fighting back..." The man next to Gabriel trailed off a bit. He was an asian man with short black hair, who looked to be in his mid 20s. He stood a hair under 6 feet tall, and was powerfully built, if a bit on the heavy side.
"The pricks turned out to be tougher than they looked?" Gabriel supplied.

"Naw, the fuckers are all bark and no bite. Well, at least most of them. When they're not armed. At least that particular group -hic- went down like a sack of potatoes. No, the shit hit the fan like two days afterwards when Oni-motherfucking-Lee himself fucking showed up. Prick teleported behind my dad and hamstrung him, then teleported out of the shop completely before I knew what had happened. Dad's in the hospital now." He took another swig of his beer. "That was three weeks ago. Although since Lung got taken in, maybe the heroes are starting to -hic- get their act together. Take that prick down too. Really shouldn't be all that tough."

"One can always hope." Gabriel finished the rest of his drink and ordered another round.

"Name's Alan Cheung, by the way. Did I tell you that already? I feel like I did."

"Only 3 times," Gabriel said with a chuckle. "But it's all good; you're on pint number 5 anyway."

"Shit, how many does that mean you've had?"

"Fucked if I know. I'll figure it out in the morning from how much money I don't -hic- have."

"S'pose that's one way to do it." Alan flagged the bartender down for another drink. "OI, another pint of this Czech shit."

"Told you it's good. You got any suggestions?"

"Matter of fact -hic- I do, but I've no idea where it's sold, if it even is sold around here. Called baijiu, basically super hard sake; like 110 proof. You drink it at weddings and shit."

"Or if you're looking to get real fucked real quick. Fucking 110. That's like that 'navy strength' rum you see sometimes that's -hic- like 57 abv."

"That sounds like a f -hic- fucking stupid name. Who came up with that?"

"I think its called that because at that point you could spill it all over the gunpowder on ships and shit, and it would still fire the cannonballs properly. Don't take my -hic- word for it though."

The conversation continued to meander aimlessly through topic after topic, ranging from the ubiquity of alcohol in every civilization, to the strengths and weaknesses of the English language itself; from the unique intensity of the tornadoes in the midwest United States which isn't found anywhere else in the world, to the mathematicians who literally drove themselves insane by thinking about infinity too hard, and a dozen other subjects in between.

As the bartender announced closing time and the two men stumbled outside towards the bus stop, the topic returned to capes.

"I feel like, picking a name would be fucking hard y'know," Gabriel said. He couldn't quite keep the slurring out of his voice. "You'd want shomething...not stupid. It'd be like..p -hic- picking a shcreen name, except in real life, and you can't go change it if you picked sssomething dumb. At least not eashily."

"Ya got a point there. You alsho don't want shomeone to pick one for -hic- you, or y'might get stuck like that poor bas-..bastard Chubster."

Gabriel chuckled. "Serioushly that was fuckin mean of...whoever the fuck did that."

"Y'also want it to make shense without being too obvious...probably at least." Alan paused. "Saaay, hypothetically, you could, iunno, take lotsa hits. And heal yours'lf real good. Like...lotsa hits. And you wanna be like a...protector-person. Whaddya call yourself?"

Gabriel thought for a moment. "Well, 'Aegis' is taken by that one kid, and I rem'ber shomething about a 'Bulwark' existing…'Shield' sounds stupid….'Guardian'? Something -hic- simple?"

"'Guardian'...I like it...hypothetically o'course. 'Guardian'...yeh that works dunnit?"

"Well, if we're still talking hypoth- -hic-, hypotecal? Fuckin make-believe...whaddya call some asshole who throwsh plasma n shit?"

"Like, blood? Or d'y'mean like fire n stuff?"

"The -hic- second one."

"Huh….well you could...no that one'sh dumb. Maybe...iunno…'Gigawatt' r sumthin? Or...wait…'Corona'?"

"If I was a chick, maybe. Its also a shitty beer anyways."

"Well...huh...maybe 'Crown'? Ish what it transhlates to in -hic- English anyway."

"Huh….'Crown'...I like it," Gabriel mused.

"I really like it."