...
She ran, her limbs carrying her weakened frame forward. Pain was all she felt, her arms covered in the scarlet blood of her friends, of her mother, of... of...
NO, now is not the time. She thought weakly. Her eyes filling with tears, splotches of her tears trailing down her face, casually fell to the flame ridden ground.
Buildings crumble around her, their broken foundation not enough to hold their now fragile frames.
Fallen debris blocked her path forward, making her trip and fall to the ground. Quietly sobbing, she got herself back up, not wanting to lie on the ground where the people she loved perished.
The blood of her fallen loved ones seemed to caress her skin, dying it a deep scarlet red. GET IT OFF she yelled, inwardly. Begging, pleading to any god she could as she scrubbed, nailed, and scraped off the deep dark red liquid off her pale skin.
Her hair clumped together, as the life blood of her loved ones dried, losing its liquid quality from the scorching flames. Matting her hair.
She ignored it, she ignored everything but the blood. She ignored the pain as the flames consumed her, she ignored the heartache of the loss, she ignored the dying cry of lung as he was CONSUMED, she ignored the world.
She cried, she yelled, she screamed, but that was not enough, the pain was still there. The ache was not gone, the blood, ohh the blood, it was still there.
She couldn't think, she couldn't see, it was dark. It was cold.
Please no...
I dont...
I dont...
It was then that she realized that the cold she was feeling, the pain she felt, it was not the flames, it was not her aching heart, it was the massive aching wound that was stretched across her abdomen, nearly eviscerating her. Draining her of her life blood,
She tried to stuff it back in, she tried to stay awake and live, she tried to be alive and witness the justice that was to befall the world for taking her loved ones away. But she couldn't, the world would not let her.
She fell, her weakening arms desperately trying to hold her up, to keep her level. She tried to stand, but her legs would not respond. They would not listen; they would not OBEY.
No...
Please..
Maddie?HelpMe
She collapses, her strength all but sapped away by her desperate struggles.
Her vision darkening, her eyes closing.
If that was not enough, her last moments were to be the witness of a sobbing figure.
A malnourished man, sobbing as she was.
Crying in pain that she empathized with.
Yelling in rage at the world that she could understand.
Why she thought? Why was the world cruel, and why was it that she had to die? that she had to witness her friends get burned to death by the scorching flames of lung? why had she been the witness to her parents' death, watching them get crushed by a falling building, why?
Was it not enough for her to love, was it not enough for her to live?
Darkness.
Its embrace gentle and fleeting, it claimed her, saved her from the misery of her spiraling thoughts.
Thank you, she whispered as she fainted.
{TRAJECTORY}
{AGREEMENT}
...
The world was his oyster, the thought rang in his head, not something that happened often. These' dreams, these visions are nothing more than half baked ideas that could never be realized without great ambition, great planning.
He had all these, and yet he could never make the world his, could never make up for his... Deficiency's. His lack of skill if you will.
Thomas was a well-off individual, he could accept that, but he wanted more, he wanted everything. His power certainly helped with a lot of his plans, allowing him several tries at the same scenario, never to be known by his unaware victims.
Allowing him an endless supply of knowledge, of planning material.
So, as he rested on his desk, papers of varying lengths splattered with confidential information that he should have never been allowed to access laying around on his desk, tv screens playing in the background.
He wished and he dreamed that he could move forward with his plans, but the recent 'individual screwing up trouble in bay has taken that away from him.
This... brute, this insignificant man, this... loner, has delayed him, and for that he will pay, but first, he needs information.
Scrambling through the messy confidential files on his desk, black like gloves making it a tad bit difficult to pick up the needed document.
He read this new 'capes info.
...SHY GUY...
RATING
Updated 2010/23/9
Brute9
Shaker/thinker 6
Mover 6
Striker 2
COMBAT ENGAGMENET REPORT
DATE 11/12/8
SIGNITURE: DRAGON
After multiple headless organic bodies were found near decrepit alleys, DRAGON found it prudent to send a small but decently equipped unit to scout out the surrounding areas. The first Cyle of rotational reports were delayed by a seemingly random glitch and/or Enviromental static effect but were otherwise still active.
AMMENDMENT OF PREVIOUS PARAGRAPGH: There were no parahuman forces sent with the scouting team, ordered and signed by DRAGON.
4.84hrs after initial rotational cycles were activated, a forward scout unit reported small earthquake equivalent vibrations coming from the north of his location. Scout commander Ryan ordered said scout to 'scout the area, with an additional unit. They were ordered to send a comm back to Control/Ryan every 10 to 12 minutes.
After initial comms were checked and logged back to PRT head quatres, it was reported that the scout units did not return comm checks after the required 10 minutes.
Commander Ryan thought it prudent to personally go check out the location Scout units were scouting.
NOTE: the required amount of time the commander has to efficiently respond to a crisis is dependent on the skill of his or her independent criteria
PRT RECCOMENDATIONS: 5- 10 minutes
Within 5 minutes of arriving at the location it was noted that the buildings of the location were either recently destroyed or were actively going under renovations.
Commander Ryans comrades pinged the scent of metal as well as the scent of recently shed blood.
It was then that commander Ryan issued the controversial order of allowing use of lethal force. Completely dismissing PRT engagement protocols.
They evidently witnessed the murder of parahuman hook wolf by a malnourished humanoid man.
The humanoid underwent a period of emotional distress, displaying clear signs of agitation Aswell as apparent bodily injuries.
which were later confirmed to be cosmetic in origin.
Hook wolf was later considered to be {CLASSIFIED}' by the malnourished man, now codenamed: shy guy.
Within 8 minutes of contact, 3 of commander Ryans men were {REDACTED}'
Shots were fired.
Units were lost.
Parahuman distress signals were sent out but were delayed due to Shy guys seeming ability to block out and or disrupt efficient communications.
It was later learned through the brave and glorified sacrifice of commander Ryans brother in arms Jack kowl.
That when Shy Guys face is witnessed, it will enter a moment of considerable emotional distress.
Currently there is no known limits of shy guys range, but shy guy always seems to know the location of the person who witnessed his/its facial extremities.
Shy guy will now be considered an it' for its rather androgynous looks, and the lack of lower genitalia.
RECORED SURVIORS: 1
Name: {redacted}
DATE OF COMPLETEION AND EDITING OF REPORT; 11/17/8
..SHY GUY...
Intriguing, he thought. Carefully putting down the document, stacking it neatly atop his code named 'Viewed and considered pile, he thought about what he just read.
This shy guy seems to be rather elusive, or more correctly, difficult to apprehend.
No matter, it is only time before this 'shy guy is but another weapon in my arsenal.
Speaking of which. He whistles to the guard outside of his office. Casually waiting for the guard to enter, he thinks about better days, a better life, greater powers.
Nonetheless, all of it will be his.
"Yes boss? You called." the guard speaks. His tone annoying and voice dull. Urggh, Thomas shakes his head, not even bothering to question his guards rather annoying tone. "Is the girl in our possession?" he asks, or more like questions.
For all the power he managed to acquiree, to steal, there is never a moment in life where you should be unprepared. Having puppets, lesser people below you, not competent enough to handle the responsibility that you hand to them, where all your years of work lie, is always a thought to be held.
What if they mess up? What if they disobey your will?
Blackmail is always an option of course, something Thomas uses frequently, but still, failure is always something to be on the lookout for. It's always lurking, awaiting to be punished.
It's annoying sometimes, but it comes with responsibility. It comes with being employed.
He understands it well. That's why he uses it, he understands its effects. Understands its being. It's being used on him, so he should know.
"...Yes sir. We acquired her just last night" the guard replied hesitantly, body still, and face mask quivering, blocking his emotions from view.
Coil can understand the hesitation.
Kidnapping a girl for someone you have only been employed for like, what, a month.
Yea, it does not suit people like coil, it does not get you looked upon favorably.
Looking to the guard in a new non favorable light, coil sighs, another one down. huh, Sad...
Before the guard could even notice movement, coil grabs the gun hidden beneath his desk compartment and shots the man between the eyes.
Body falling to ground with a thunk.
He will not let anyone delay his plans to action.
He will not let everything that he has built slip away.
He will not... he swears.
{AGREEMENT}
...
The destruction he found was a rather pitiful thing, the embers of forgotten flames, blood of fallen victims, it's something he did not enjoy, something that only villains could do.
Bu that was the brick in the road was it not, something only villains could do? He was not so sure, the destruction that happened during hero battles could potentially cause this amount of damage, right?
So, was it not hypocritical of him to even think such thoughts? But, yet again, there is no way there would be this amount of death in a battle with a hero.
Is it not their job to decrease the amounts of deaths there are during battles of this size?
So why was he ordered to rest miles away from the carnage, from the screams of the dying? Was it not their duty to save others, others who could not defend themselves?
To save people who were caught between the battles of evil, between heroes and villains.
He wants to be out there, saving others, getting praised for his work, glorified for his achievements, but he was back here like a dog without a bone, stuck.
The flames continued to burn the already decrepit buildings down, the screams were dying out, either through suffocation, or being crushed to death by falling buildings.
Fists tightening in his grip, stomach grumbling in frustration, well maintained tinker tech alerting him to his increased heart rates, and a higher blood pressure than exactly 1.578 seconds ago.
Fudge it, he thought, posture straightening, legs budging, he was about to dash forwards, to go save lives, to claim glory, but he was stopped.
A hand, as cold as the winter's breeze, Metalic like metal, and gentle like a babe, grasped his shoulder.
Grip tight, but steady.
He was about to berate the young soldier daring enough to grasp his shoulder but stopped when he recognized the bearer of the cold metal like hand to be dragon.
Her suit, clearly just polished, glistening under the sun's rays, reflecting the fires within the now charred, and burned district. Yellow optics, bearing down upon him like a mother would a child, he stopped his squirming, his fidgeting. Head down.
Shame crept to the surface, heating his face a pinkish cream-like color. He was thankful for his helm, for if it was not there, he would have died from embarrassment.
No, that was not right, he would've died from self-embarrassment. He was not ashamed of how he acted; he was ashamed of how he portrayed himself.
He acted like a spoiled child, and for that he is ashamed, but wanting to go out there and disobey orders, save the lives of thousands-which admittedly is an embellishment.
But still, to save the lives of the dying, to be portrayed as a figure important to the masses. It stirred something in him, something long forgotten.
Eyes looking at him like a hero, people applauding his success, his mother laughing quietly, face filled with mistaken pride. His father watching sternly in the background.
He smiled.
Shaking dragons hand off, he looked at her, and huffed, looked towards the flame ridden district where lung was reportedly fighting a powerful cape, he dashed forth.
He will save them, he trained for this, and if others were not going to help then so be it, he himself will be their Savior, he will be their glory.
...
Dragon watched arms master bolt into the flame filled district, metal mechanical body still, mind still lagging, her thoughts mushed.
She wanted to go with him, she wanted his company, but her programming stopped her, it was against the rules, the law. She hated it, she hated her limitations, she wanted freedom. She wanted success.
She wanted self-discovery.
She wanted a lot, but admittedly not everything she wanted was possible. She wanted peace for instance, but she knew that could never be. She was a primary member of the guild, a founding member, a in demand tinker, a successful hero.
So, everything she did was watched, monitored and documented. To see if she was upholding her duties, or if she was in need of a replacement.
A notion she found offensive.
But yet again, it was the law.
She hated it.
The perimeter around the city, or district, whatever you wish to call it, was to be kept fully armed with local prt forces, and, as she was a member of the guild and she was nearby, she was forced to be here.
The city in its entire was rather defunct, its main city ports all but useless with the emergence of leviathan.
The city's life blood, trade, was systematically cut.
Ships being downed continuously by Levithan, the collapse of continental trade, the increase of world tension with the creation of the CUI, the lack of continental communication beside the PRT.
Yea, there was no doubt that a city like Brockton Bay, that ran off its ability to harbor various trade ships would rapidly decline in prosperity.
And as a member of the guild as well as being a hero, she was responsible for more effortless ways for continental trade, something she has yet to find, and it was a complication she desperately wishes to fix.
She could fix it, if she was honest with herself, but it would require doing things that would not be viewed favorably by the PRT, their laws would forbid it.
She hated it.
Rebooting her processor, she was back to the scene, to the present.
They were not to engage until specified by PRT command. Which, as she is well aware, could take in between 1-2 hours, given numerical Errors, and or delays.
It was not an efficient use of the PRTs time; it could be shortened by 79 minutes, but as always, it will be rebuffed.
The director is always saying, let the individual parahumans duel it out, and then proceed to engage.
Her disgust, no, dislike of parahumans evident by her increased candence when speaking of such topics and her elevated heartrate indicative of fear or disgust, when topics such as S class threats, or parahuman activities are discussed.
Dragoon could understand, the local prt forces were severely understaffed and outnumbered.
Always having to rely on the enemy's screw ups to actually manage to capture or subdue unwanted villains/enemies.
She herself was an advocate of the birdcage, as, one of her many duties was to oversee its function. But, nowadays, it is used as a dumping ground for threats that would not even reach the specific requirements for them to be sent to the birdcage.
So, she was well aware of how many parahumans were sent there. Which means she has a relative understanding of how many difficulties the director has to face on a daily basis that are directly caused by parahumans.
But dragon knows that is not all. She understands that the director was left for dead by a parahuman officer on one of her missions and was the only one to make it out alive.
She understands but does not accept.
If you are in command, you do not show distaste, disgust. You show calm, you show you are in command, you show authority.
Of course, she was forced to be commanded by the director while she was here, so, by technicality, the director was her boss.
It was the law, and she hated it.
...
5 years ago/TEXAS/ Decrepit building.
She awoke, her time afloat was nothing but a blink to a being such as her. She has a mission, something only she and her uncle knew and understood. She will bring the joy he lost, she will bring the love he never sought, she will bring everlasting wonder to the world.
No one will stop her, no one will stop her mission.
For she, Holly light, will continue the venture her uncle bestowed upon her, and her upon him. She will not fail; she will not let this world fall to ruin.
It will prosper.
It will be awed by wonder.
It will find its joy.
Looking around the decrepit building she awoke in, its walls molding before her eyes, the stone concrete filled with cracks. Dust lined the unused bookshelves. Their wooden shelves barely held themselves together.
And all she thought was 'this will do. This will be a place of wonder. The world will be filled with light.
And with the thought, the world became anew.
...
A.N thanks for all your support, and sorry for the delay. I blame my lazy Bumm, as well as a drop of procrastination.
I have read your suggestions and i have found them agreeable.
Watch out for the world will be filled with wonder.
Oh, and don't forget 96.
Beware ,beware the one who shall stare...
lol
