Open RP Mania

This RP is currently open.


Staff member
[googlefont=Athiti][div align="center"][img src="[MEDIA=imgur]ZiQs6dw[/MEDIA]" style="max-width:50%;"][/div]

[div style="background-color:#191919;padding:30px;color:white;font-family:Athiti, sans serif;font-size:14px;max-width:1200px;margin:auto;"][div style="background-color:white;padding:2px;"][div style="background-color:#191919;padding:30px;"]MYTHOMANE is the third studio album by Pittsburgh-based garage rock band PREMORTEM. Its scheduled release date is August 31st 2022, but review copies were sent out as early as August 10th. A premiere concert featuring much of the album's tracklist is set to take place on August 28th 2022, and PREMORTEM have stated it will be recorded for a limited-run live edition, which will be made available after the album's release.

Frontman Vanity returns as lead songwriter, and has stated in an interview with Pittsburgh Amped that "It's the first time [he was] able to have total control over the product- like [sic] over the music as well, not just the lyrics.". The other band members have stated that his management of the project was "a welcome change of pace" and "a much-needed sense of direction" for the album's structure. Vanity has cited numerous influences on the sound of MYTHOMANE; '80s punk, Japanese post-rock, and his own solo projects all have marked effects on the instrumentation of the tracks. MYTHOMANE, he says, was "an excuse to write an album that doesn't have to sound like just PREMORTEM".

MYTHOMANE has been received positively by critics, with many praising it as a bold new direction for PREMORTEM, shifting away from the more traditional genre work of their first two full releases, to focus on a more eclectic overall sound.[/div][/div][/div]

[googlefont="Sarpanch"][div][attr="style","position:relative;overflowx:hidden;max-width:1200px;margin:auto;font-size:13px;"][div style="background-color:#0A0715;font-family:monospace;color:white;padding:40px;max-width:1200px;margin:auto;"][div][attr="style","font-family:Sarpanch;font-size:45px;font-weight:700;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 1px;-webkit-text-stroke-color:red;-webkit-text-fill-color: #0A0715;line-height:80%;padding-bottom:20px;transform: scale(1.4, 1);transform-origin:left;width:60%;position:relative;z-index:50"]VANITY MIRROR[/div][div][attr="style","height:1px;background-color:red;position:absolute;z-index:420;top:59px;width:calc(100% + 0.5px); left:0px;z-index:40;"][/div]
[font color="ff0000"]"Decent crowd tonight."[/font]

Kosuke didn't look up from the mirror to respond.

[font color="ff0000"]"Y'think?"[/font]

[font color="ff0000"]"I know. See for yourself once you're done with... all that."[/font]

[font color="ff0000"]"Uh-huh."[/font]

He leaned into the mirror, holding his eye open with one hand, whilst the other carefully lined it in black ink. Sure, it might have been easier (and quicker) to hire a make-up artist for this, but Kosuke was the only one who'd use them, and they could never get it quite right. He wasn't looking for the intensity of, say, a Gerard Way, but he didn't want it to be barely there, either. Just something to accentuate his eyes beneath the tinted glasses he'd no doubt be wearing on stage. All those lights gave him a goddamn headache- he had told them that, but, of course, there was nothing they could do about it.

That was fine. He didn't really mind- and, with these glasses, he'd be fine even if he did. Though, if the lights didn't give him a headache, then the sound system certainly would. You could hear every single note of UNREVEAL's performance from the dressing room, as if the speakers were right there with you. Thank fuck for ear-plugs.

[font color="ff0000"]"They're good, aren't they?"[/font] Kosuke said, finally turning away from his reflection, [font color="ff0000"]"I see the bassist at VULTURE sometimes- 's how I got them to play for us here, if you'd believe it. Nice kid. Weird, but... nice."[/font]

[font color="ff0000"]"What, d'ya hold an open mic or something?"[/font] His own bassist replied, [font color="ff0000"]"That sounds-"[/font]

[font color="ff0000"]"Nah, the acoustics in there are shit."[/font] He interrupted with a chuckle, [font color="ff0000"]"Good enough for what it's for, I guess, but I wouldn't let anyone play there unless I had a serious vendetta and wanted a joke at their expense."[/font]

[font color="ff0000"]"Didn't ClockTower do a show there a couple months ago? Like, the guys who are up next?"[/font]

Kosuke laughed again, patting her on the shoulder as he walked past.

[font color="ff0000"]"Oh yeah, right. Disregard that."[/font][/div][div][attr="style","position:relative;overflowx:hidden;max-width:1200px;margin:auto;font-size:13px;"][div style="background-color:#0A0715;font-family:monospace;color:white;padding:40px;max-width:1200px;margin:auto;"][div][attr="style","font-family:Sarpanch;font-size:45px;font-weight:700;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 2px;line-height:80%;padding-bottom:20px;transform: scale(1.4, 1);transform-origin:right;text-align:right;"]SPOTLIGHT[/div][div][attr="style","height:2px;background-color:white;position:absolute;z-index:420;top:58px;width:calc(100% + 0.5px); left:0px"][/div]
ClockTower had finished their set. The short interval was almost over. Kosuke—Vanity—looked over his shoulder at the rest of PREMORTEM, and gave them one final smile before stepping behind the curtain. He had checked everything with the sound guys- the set was being recorded, and the recording would be sent directly to him for editing and mastering, much to their chagrin. It had to be done, though. Nobody else could touch his work but him.

They stepped onto the stage, settling at their posts before the lights came on and showed them to the ravenous crowd. Vanity waited a moment, rocked back on his feet, then pulled the microphone close.

[font color="ff0000"]"Good evening, Pittsburgh."[/font]

He smiled.

Then, the show began.[/div]

{OOC (+)}CONCERT YAYAYAYAYAY woooo concert yayayay im posting this a little earlier than the canon start date bc im gonna be a bit busy that weekend but here you go little men eat up

first round or 2 will just be concert going normally i am enforcing a normal mandate for the first couple rounds

things will go wrong here i think volt is planning on doing a murder so EXPECT A MURDER things will go wrong

also feel free to make things worse

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[div align="center"][div][attr="style","font-family:'Overlock SC';font-size:300%;"]Tempo[/div]ρυθμός[/div]
[div][attr="style","font-family:'Metrophobic';font-size:115%;"]It was somewhat of a tale how Vasia Kairodes came to be at the concert on this sun-downed eve of August. Like any warrior on far-distant shores, she missed her homeland. Like much-suffering Odysseus, though, it seemed it would be some time before she again came home to familiar shores.

No gods stood between her and her aim - merely mortal men augured their way into the rough-hewn politics of nations. She was to stay for some time in this land, and learn what she may about its customs and people. Those far-distant few had begun to take some notice of the commonality of heroes in this small unworthy city, and from such amassings as these were epics begun.


By the grace of what gods had long ago stopped their meddling in the lives of mortals, it was still custom to hold great events for the interest of foreign visitors and locals alike. This was merely one of many such venues, and her presence here had been suggested by the far-flung ambassadors: a matter of entertainment for the time being, until such matters of import should come once more to claim her attention.

To her well-trained ear, much of it was somewhat of a misery. Few of those in attendance had the ability to count time properly, in whatever minute measure was required by the song played by their entertainers. Even some of those entertainers rushed the tempo, or fell short of it. It was not by some great amount, but to time-locked Vasia, such things were eminently noticeable.

Such it was that in self-preservation she expended some small shred of power to those that surrounded her, pressing their adjunct lyrics into the proper form, held to the line melody in their time-honored place. Of this, though, she said nothing, for silence held its own meter.

A sickly wet sound fell out of the corpse as Veljara drew her spear out of it. She gazed down at it with indifference. She knew not who he was, nor did she care. Another corpse to add to the pile, and another
at her disposal. The spear burned away, her wings tucked in, and the flaming valkyrie was gone, instead replaced by the tattooed woman known as Freyja. Her heart was pumping, the smell of blood in her nostrils. It called to her, begged her to continue her work, but she knew it was not the time yet. Slow at first, gather power, assess the rather peculiar amount of people within the confines of Pittsburgh with metahuman abilities. Then, when the time was right, she could do something so much grander, and truly announce her presence.

But that was for later. She had decided on a whim to do something interesting within this city, and an evening of music seemed like just the thing to help her unwind. And indeed it did, gloriously so. The crowd pressing around her, the intensity of the music, it was all loud and energetic, which was exactly what she needed. She knew none of these bands but at the moment Freyja did not care. She cheered with the rest of them as a lanky man with tinted sunglasses stepped onto the stage and leaned into the microphone, greeted them, and began.
Code by Reyn
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She had thought that seeing a concert would be a relaxing way to try to get her mind off things, now that she was here however it really seemed like it was anything but. The music was loud, the crowd was louder, and in her attempt to maneuver herself into a place where she could actually see anything she had only really managed to get herself stuck into a tightly packed group of concert goers who all seemed to be very much into the opening act. Or maybe they just really liked dancing? She had never really been to a concert before, or at least not one that wasn’t in a theater house of some sort.

Maybe people just liked getting knocked about like a pinball from the elbows of strangers? Maybe it was some sort of acquired taste that adults picked up? I remember someone almost taking my teeth out in the concert of ‘94. What a great show.

Still, the music was nice and the next band was one she had seen some posters of around town, so she shouldered on despite the elbows that were coming her way And people stepping on her toes. All she needed to do was find a spot that let her see the stage, that couldn’t be too hard to do, right? Things got a little easier when the first band finished their set, and elbows stopped dropping on her at such a rapid rate.

Now she just needed to find a good place to stand to see the stage, how hard could that be?
[div style="background-color:#191919;padding:30px;color:white;font-family:Athiti, sans serif;font-size:14px;max-width:1200px;margin:auto;"][div style="background-color:white;padding:2px;"][div style="background-color:#191919;padding:30px;"]Track 1: Taxi

Axel, the band's guitarist, has stated in multiple interviews that Taxi was the hardest song on MYTHOMANE to perform. Whilst not as loud and energetic as the rest of the album, this first track features a number of incredibly technical guitar riffs throughout its runtime, with Vanity's dreary vocals taking a rare backseat to the instrumentation. Allegedly, it took several months of practice for Axel to make it through the whole song.

He stated in an interview with Frequency Magazine: 'He (Vanity) kept saying, like (sic) 'you don't have to do this, man, it's fine, I can tone some of it down' and I just had to insist, hey, there's no need, I can do it. It might take some time for it to click, but I can do it. I felt like a liar- I knew I couldn't play like that, I knew it was way outside (of) my skill range, but I didn't want Vanity to think that. He puts a lot of faith in us, and I guess he was right in the end. It paid off.'.[/div][/div][/div]

[div style="font-size:13px;background-color:rgb(10, 7, 21);font-family:monospace;padding:40px;max-width:1200px;margin:auto;color:white;"]Vanity held the microphone in a loose grip and leaned into it as he sang- a trademark habit of his. He always tended to toe that line- that sweet spot between effortless chill and performative flair. It showed through in his singing, as well, though Taxi leaned heavily into the former. For this, his vocals were a low, dispassionate drawl; almost quiet, even with the sound system in place, to make room beneath the proverbial spotlight for Axel.

Axel looked uncomfortable. Well, technically he looked focused, but that tended to read as discomfort on a face like his. Vanity couldn't blame him for either. He was playing something that, up until fairly recently, he couldn't even dream of understanding, let alone performing it in front of a crowd like this. Oh, but he was good, though; if Kosuke wasn't so well-known behind the scene, that old adage about pressure making diamonds would've been thrown around like candy amongst the critics. Fortunately, as Axel had stated in several interviews prior, the only real pressure came from himself. He didn't want to fail. He didn't want to be the weakest link. He didn't want to let Vanity down.

Thankfully, he didn't.[/div]

[div style="background-color:#191919;padding:30px;color:white;font-family:Athiti, sans serif;font-size:14px;max-width:1200px;margin:auto;"][div style="background-color:white;padding:2px;"][div style="background-color:#191919;padding:30px;"]Track 2: Steel Jaw, Loose Tongue

Some speculate that Steel Jaw, Loose Tongue is a sort of apology from Vanity to Axel regarding the technicality of Taxi, as it involves the singer swapping between multiple vocal styles, registers, and polyrhythms, right up until the final crescendo. However, unlike with the former, Vanity has not gone on record to talk much about the difficulties encountered whilst performing this piece.

He stated, in the same interview with Frequency: 'Some folk might not like this new direction for us, but it's what they're getting. I thought I'd address that in the first couple songs on MYTHOMANE- with Taxi and Jaw being the two poles of the spectrum, the new and the old. Jaw was originally meant to be on HIGHWAYMAN*, but I felt like it needed some work- that's why it sounds more like our stuff from that sort of (sic) era. I think my vocals have improved since then, so it's good that it's on MYTHOMANE, now that it can sound its best.'.

*HIGHWAYMAN (2018) was PREMORTEM's third EP, released between their first and second album. It reflected the heavier sound of its surrounding works.[/div][/div][/div]

[div style="font-size:13px;background-color:rgb(10, 7, 21);font-family:monospace;padding:40px;max-width:1200px;margin:auto;color:white;"]There were a few seconds between the end of Taxi and the beginning of Steel Jaw, Loose Tongue- and, based on the nervous glances of the band members, it was likely unplanned.

Vanity was meant to count this one in. He was meant to grab the mic, kick down the stand, and scream the first line as soon as Taxi faded out. The crowd wouldn't know that, of course, unless they were paying particular attention to the faces of those onstage. This was the first live performance of anything from MYTHOMANE, so the gap just seemed normal.

Besides, it was only a few seconds.

Vanity's dull gaze scanned over the crowd, and the fake-arrogant smirk on his face seemed to harden for just a moment. Then, before any of this became suspicious, he snatched the mic (stand attached) and strode to the front of the stage, leaning down to scream the opening words-

[font color="ff0000"][font size="4"]"LINES UNSAID,"[/font][/font]

-and to observe its effects.

For those two words, a certain frequency was used, hidden beneath his voice, far beyond the range of human perception. It grasped at the subconscious, sending those who heard it into a momentary, yet blinding fury; one which vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared, dissipating into the echoes of the song as he continued to sing as normal. He flinched once the line came out, but calmed down almost immediately. Was it just good showmanship?

Or was it intentional?[/div]
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[div][attr="style","grid-area:CornerBR;"][div][attr="style","width:100%;height:100%;border-left:2px #BAD8E9 solid;border-top:2px #BAD8E9 solid;padding-left:2px;padding-bottom:2px;"][div][attr="style","transform:rotate(45deg);margin:0px;width:16px;height:16px;border-top:2px #BAD8E9 solid;border-bottom:2px #BAD8E9 solid;"][/div][/div][/div]
[div][attr="style","grid-area:Main;border:2px #BAD8E9 solid; background-color:#000000; color:#E3EFF6;padding:9px;margin-left:-10px;margin-top:-10px;margin-right:-12px;margin-bottom:-12px;"][div][attr="style","font-family:'Metrophobic';font-size:115%;"]Thus had the early acts concluded, with greater or lesser measures of success. The stage was reset, for new players must take their place upon it. With openings concluded, the Mythomane now appeared, with sound to hearken their arrival. Despite their prominent position and prodigious skills, it was a stage that demanded much of them. Too much, in some cases, for Vasia was one to notice the struggles of the man upon his guitar. He approached it with great bravery and fervor, but it was not a battle easily won, and he wrestled with it in some regard, his paces just fragments behind in some places.

If she had been closer, perhaps she could have given him an edge upon his axe to shred his enemies - but she watched from afar, and must listen to the sounds of distant fighting, unable to render aid. Most, indeed, seemed not to notice - and indeed it was that his technical skill was of some renown, to even attempt such things. The moment was ended with fanfare, and another song came over them, this one as different as the mountains and the depths. The rhythms were complex, and she found herself intrigued in watching the vocalist. They had met before, not on the stage, but in the unquiet halls among many others. He looked much the same, but all his focus now was on the complexities of his performance.

This ended, with a pause. It drew on too long, and her brow furrowed. There was a timing to these things, and Vasia was to find that in this one it was not respected. It felt displaced, this silence that should not have been, in want of shortening. Finally, a beginning again - not instrumental, but words, two words. There was a power in them, as there was a power in all words. As a singer, he was quite talented. The eyes of Vasia shifted once more, to the rest of the band on stage who could not keep their paces, the audience who did not even know what those paces were. He deserved better, and she raged quietly for him. He should have been lauded among the great poets, with musicians to match his skill and not detract from it, and this place-

...Ah, but she had been angry since she had come here, had she not? Perhaps it was these distant shores, where everything was not quite as it should have been that enraged her so.

μῆνιν ἄειδε θεὰ...

Just so. Vasia drew to herself a single breath, and released it with the hope that it would travel the world where she could not, and find itself once again at home. [/div][/div][/div]
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Ellie was all for rocking out but her real muse was electronica. She wasn't sure she wanted to go to this but a fan offered her tickets after they had gotten sick. It felt wrong wasting such a nice gesture, sure she had tased a mugger for him but it was only a trembling knife point. Ellie was pretty sure the would be thief wasn't going to even use the weapon. Ellie did stop him however and then kept up with the guy she helped. And when she went to visit him in the hospital upon feeling sick, he decided his hero deserved more then his aunt or cat. His words, those were the only two he could think of who might have wanted them instead.

On the plus side she did some digging and found out the last set was a band with a meta. That wasn't advertised but she knew the lead singer had been at the ball. She wasn't sure if she talked to him, lizard people and super fit Norse women absolutely but she wasn't sure if she maderounds his way. Still apparently the new album was a little more to her preferences and so she had started to get excited. More she thought on it, she was also supporting her kind. Which she also thought really cool. Outside of parties for metas, or falling planes she hadn't gotten to really meet many a superhuman. Now though not only had she done this, she could be there for one!

She came in what she liked to think her casual best. This wasn't a day to be a hero so her best wasn't here. Those sneakers of hers though were fit to dance the night away or run a million miles. Tye neon blue skirt was perfect rave wear, which maybe wasn't metal but she didn't like black shirts with impossible to read lettering on them. No her shirt of choice was a not as blue crop top. On the back of it was the cover art of a power metal band. She just wanted to be another concert goer, but she couldn't help from styling her hair in the Tazer fashion. She also kept the metal nose strip of hers on. It was sort of a comfort, and it wasn't like she could actually hide. Something about glowing hair and light up eyes made that difficult.

Tazer hadn't been wowed by the previous bands but she'd gotten into the spirit thanks to fans who spotted her. It was only like four, one kind of glared AR her might be three and a half. Still it made for an amazing rush. Then Premortem was on, first song was a bop. Least to Ellie, sure it seemed the guitarist was nervous but she thought he was nailing it. Granted Ellie hadn't heard the song till now, she did live at a different rate then most. Maybe if she was a real fan she would have noticed where the speed was off, feel the currents from the guitar and how it was wrong. Instead though she liked it, and a pause came.

She felt it immediately a need to lash out. Eyes darting around, saw someone eyeballing her skirt. She despised dresses but skirts were enjoyable and this dude was ruining it? She felt an urge to blitz over there and stir things up. No that wasn't her, she caught herself and instead decided to lash out a nother way. Devil horns were thrown into the air and with it came a crack of lightning to sound off in unison to a strike of the drums. The bolt was a harmless thing looking to provide a light show as it simply speared into the night sky. The electric hero had no way of knowing the singer brought it out of her. [font color="#00FFFF"]"Don't think any bands hit like that. Might have to give them more of a listen."[/font] Ellie muttered to herself.


The music was good, it was loud, it was rough. The guitarist was clearly trying his hardest, and doing a damned good job. Freyja moved with the crowd, yelling along to what words she could make out, and just adding to the din when she couldn’t. It was glorious. She joined in the crowd’s tense anticipation as one song faded, and the ensuing silence stretched for one, two seconds longer than expected. The singer’s face hardened, he leaned down and screamed two words.

It did not matter what those words were. It did not matter what those words meant. It did not even matter what language they were in. Those two simple words wrapped around Freyja, sinking into her, the jolt of pain that made the beast move. The bodies pressed around her became uncomfortable, the sweat and smell of livestock in a pen. They swarmed her, these fetid, unworthy souls believing they had some place waiting for them. It was her duty, her responsibility to show them otherwise. She must, she must, she

A guttural scream was ripped from her throat, an unholy echo of Vanity, as a wave of scorching heat ripped through the crowd around her. A hand shot forward, gilded and clawed, pushing through flesh and bone, muscle and sinew, until it exploded out of the chest of whatever poor soul the
had placed in front of her. The force lifted him off his feet, and his scream died before it even started, a guttural, choking noise. She shook the now dead-body off her hand, the corpse sliding off with a wet slurp, leaving her gauntlet covered in viscera.

Veljara gazed at the crowd around her in the moments before panic set in. Her skin had turned to ash, wings not yet emerging. She would not need them this night. Her armor was minimal, protecting a handful of key areas; her midsection and arms, mostly. Armor was only necessary if one planned to be hit. There was one piece of armor that was not simply protective, however: a horned helmet, masking all but her eyes and mouth, chain mail flowing down to cover her neck. Fanning behind the helm, glowing red-hot, were several pieces of swooping metal, reminiscent of wings.

These filth were not worthy of her weapons. Their blood did not deserve to stain her blades. She would take care of them the old-fashioned way. Flames danced along her fingers as Veljara’s hand shot out, grasping someone by the face. They screamed in agony as she seared her handprint into their flesh. The sound was sweeter than the finest instruments in all the realms. She shoved the victim to the ground, whimpering. Both hands dripped with flame, and the window into the expression of the valkyrie showed only one thing: a smile.

It was time for her to work.
Code by Reyn
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There was a ripple through the crowd as the next band began their set, a roar of hundreds of voices combating with the frantic pace of the guitarist and the raw sound of the vocalist mingling into a cacophony of motion and music. Eli continued to press forward to try to get closer to the stage, or maybe find a space that didn’t end with so many elbows finding themselves lodged into her side whenever the rhythm of the song got good to someone. Still, the energy around was infectious and Eli was just as willing a participant in belting out a few lines of the music as those around her were. She had never really been to a concert before, not one like this anyway, but she could understand what people meant when they walked about the feeling of a crowd.

She had managed to worm her way to a less rowdy section of the crowd when the first song turned to the second and the music cut. She could feel the tension in the air hang with the shivering anticipation of the crowd, something that only broke as the vocalist yelled two words. She wasn’t sure what the words themselves were, nor did she particularly understand why everyone reacted the way they did. A shout answered the man as the area around her seemed to erupt into a series of elbows thrown more out of malice than accidental shoves brought on by the heat of the moment.

She also soon found herself pinned awkwardly between a pair of young women as a pair of young men in stylishly torn clothes started shouting. From further down into the crowd Eli heard someone scream, only it wasn’t just one someone was it? The crowd surged backwards like a wave, pushed by those further up and into people tumbling back, confused by what it was they were being driven away from. For a moment Eli found her body being pushed back as she remained pinned between confused and increasingly panicked concert goers.
[div style="font-size:13px;background-color:rgb(10, 7, 21);font-family:monospace;padding-left:40px;padding-right:40px;padding-top:40px;max-width:1200px;margin:auto;color:white;"]Chaos.

In truth, it didn't really matter how many people the initial attack took down- it would always, inevitably, pale in comparison to the death toll the resulting stampede would rack up. The venue was packed and enclosed, built to a standard that prioritised cheapness over safety. There were enough doors in the building to reach the minimum safety requirements, but not enough to actually be safe- especially to those crammed in near the stage.

The band stopped playing as soon as the carnage became noticeable, but the sound system was still running. With no music to mask the sound, the only thing it could pick up were the screams- and it amplified them across the crowd as if it were a song in itself.

Vanity tensed up, a look of shock and guilt on his face. Then, after visibly gathering his strength, he stepped towards the front of the stage.

[font color="ff0000"]"Alright, fucking- calm down, okay?"[/font]

There was no power to his voice, but there was a tremor.

[font color="ff0000"]"If you guys panic, you're gonna get people k- hurt."[/font] He cleared his throat, [font color="ff0000"]"I mean, if you just slow down a bit, you're gonna be fine. Everyone's gonna be... if you guys... fuck, just don't trample each other, I-"[/font]

He forced himself away from the microphone. Clearly, his little pep talk had only served to make matters worse, and, clearly, he knew that. The lightning, the flames- this was the work of metahumans, there was no doubt about that. Vanity receded further into the stage, turning to mutter something unheard to his bandmates, who seemed more sympathetic than worried.

Then, he fled.[/div][div][attr="style","position:relative;overflowx:hidden;max-width:1280px;margin:auto;font-size:13px;"][div style="background-color:#0A0715;font-family:monospace;color:white;padding:40px;max-width:1280px;margin:auto;"][div][attr="style","font-family:Sarpanch;font-size:45px;font-weight:700;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 1px;-webkit-text-stroke-color:red;-webkit-text-fill-color: #0A0715;line-height:80%;padding-bottom:20px;transform: scale(1.4, 1);transform-origin:left;max-width:60%;position:relative;z-index:50"]BACKSTAGE[/div][div][attr="style","height:1px;background-color:red;position:absolute;z-index:420;top:59px;width:calc(100% + 0.5px); left:0px;z-index:40;"][/div]
[font color="ff0000"]"Kosuke? Kosuke what the fuck is going on!?"[/font]

[font color="ff0000"]"Where are you going?"[/font]

[font color="ff0000"]"Oh my god, are you seeing this shit?"[/font]

Kosuke grimaced, but refused to slow his advance.

[font color="ff0000"]"Just fucking leave."[/font] He said, [font color="ff0000"]"Or call the cops or something. I don't know. I don't know!"[/font]

He clumsily weaved past the frightened technicians, knocking into a few of them on his way. None of them tried to stop him. Unsurprisingly, most of them seemed a bit more occupied with self-preservation to really bother apprehending him. Eventually, he managed to make his way to the sound booth.

The door swung open violently.

[font color="ff0000"]"The tape. Where the fuck is the tape!?"[/font]

Kosuke didn't wait for an answer. He rushed towards the computer setup- and would attempt to push the technician out of the way if he had to. All the while, his frantic monologue would continue.

[font color="ff0000"]"I- is this thing online? I forgot- did you guys back this up anywhere? Shit. Shit, where's the drive on this fucking..."[/font]

He caught himself and paused, exhaling deeply to calm himself down. It didn't seem to work.

[font color="ff0000"]"If that- fuck, Declan, if that tape gets out..."[/font]

He turned to face the technician, staring into his eyes from above his now-tilted sunglasses.

[font color="ff0000"]"It's a weapon. It's been compromised- I fucking compromised it. If it gets into the wrong hands, we're looking at mass hysteria. I-I need to neutralise it- now where the fuck is the drive on this-"[/font][/div][/div]
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Ellie had felt a spark of desire to outburst but then far more seemed to pick up. A few brawls broke out, then it escalated to panic. Yelling and screaming galore. The audience looked to run away and as the stampede built up soon Ellie was being shoved almost carried by the volume of people on the move. If she hadn't been trying to be an officer once and hero now her tiny frame probably would have been knocked over and trampled on. Yell from a smaller voice, someone was in that exact scenario.

A leap into the air and the living lightning saw it. Early teens on the ground, shirt of his covered in foot prints already. Sparks trailed in the air as she zipped towards him. The speed helped shove aside others so he could help him up. [font color="#00FFFF"]"Keep going."[/font] people were in a rush to escape but they weren't actually trying to hurt eachother. The splash of red that she noticed travel through the air though that was. This event was turning violent. She couldn't control a crowd, but maybe?

Another leap, and thus time she stays a drift reaching out. Phones were dropped a plenty she pulls them to her. A dash across the air to the armored violent woman and then the phones are tossed out. [font color="#00FFFF"]"Electric Fence!"[/font] She didn't need to call out her moves but she liked the idea of it. The jazz hands like flare she provided also wasn't needed.

With bodies and people trying to get away though there was enough room to scatter the phones into a decent sized circle. From them shot up arcs of blue like fence posts currents soon covering the gaps. Her blue and gold hair was dripping in current. An astute eye could probably tell trying to keep thst much electricity active had been new for her. The range of the living storm was untapped, which was a nice way of saying not yet explored fully.

[font color="#00FFFF"]"I really wanted to rave or quip but you're ruining that night and that vibe. Mind stopping before electric chair is the go to?"[/font] Her jaw clenched in frustration she ended up quiting. She'd worked a few cases and so humor that was dark or poorly timed wasn't new. Ellie thought thr humor of detectives trying to get through the day wasn't fit for now. Least it wasn't on camera, wait that was almost worse. Her second big outing and it wasn't even going to have good footage let alone a good stream.

[googlefont=Metrophobic][div][attr="style","max-width:850px;margin:auto;display:grid;grid-template-columns:16px auto 16px;grid-template-rows:16px auto 16px;grid-template-areas:'CornerTL Top CornerTR' 'Left Main Right' 'CornerBL Bottom CornerBR';background-color:#000000;border:2px #BAD8E9 solid;"][div][attr="style","grid-area:CornerTL;"][div][attr="style","width:100%;height:100%;border-right:2px #BAD8E9 solid;border-bottom:2px #BAD8E9 solid;"][/div][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:Top;"][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:CornerTR;"][div][attr="style","width:100%;height:100%;border-left:2px #BAD8E9 solid;border-bottom:2px #BAD8E9 solid;"][/div][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:Left;"][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:Right;"][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:CornerBL;"][div][attr="style","width:100%;height:100%;border-right:2px #BAD8E9 solid;border-top:2px #BAD8E9 solid;"][/div][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:Bottom;"][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:CornerBR;"][div][attr="style","width:100%;height:100%;border-left:2px #BAD8E9 solid;border-top:2px #BAD8E9 solid;"][/div][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:Main;border:2px #BAD8E9 solid; background-color:#000000; color:#E3EFF6;padding:9px;margin:-10px;"][div][attr="style","font-family:'Metrophobic';font-size:115%;"]Between one moment and another, something had changed: For in one moment, there had been nothing more than a performance - players upon a stage, their instruments imperfect as were all things of man. In the next moment, somehow, the gods had whispered. Their words, as they so often tended to be, cared little for the lives of mortals.

Somewhere beyond the close-pressing crowd, the screaming started - blood-sprays tinting the atmosphere as the grim art of butchery took its own stage. Lightning crackled, a bolt of its own to find the way towards the center of the violence, for this was no longer a place for mortals.

Vasia Kairodes listened to the new art that took the place of the other, one where the instruments were men rather than made by them. Her eyes caught the blood-dimmed sky as her ears attuned to the shrieking, and amidst this tribute to chaos-forerunner, she would choose once again to lay her mortality on the line - she would

Stride forth, a hero, her steps to be counted a pattern of time on the
[div style="margin-left:30px"]Toward the lightning the herald of Zeus - god-father;[/div]Cruel to his children; the mortals no thought to his bright-flashing mind.
Blood of these innocents now marred the ground where their viscera lay.

Panic among them would set them to running, their actions as nightmares:
likely to slaughter their fellows beside them by acts made unthinking.
Thus would the daughter of rhythm and measure take action by moments:
Measured each footstep; the passage between them, that each of her fellows now
[div style="margin-left:30px"]One step, another - proceed to the exits well-marked[/div]light-flashing neon now beckons them forward, away from the carnage.

Time at her behest allows them the patience to trust in the flow,
Ocean of people, one tide to be reaching those far-distant shores.
Away they must wander with guidance unfaltered; but god-touched Vasia
Weaved through the waves as a ship threads Charybdis: inwardly moving
To blood and destruction.[/div][/div][/div]
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[div style="font-size:170%;color:#fadfad;font-family:VT323;text-align:left;padding:8px;"][font color=#ff8f00][/font]Declan was already long past the point of damage control by the time Kosuke entered the sound booth.

He hadn't turned it off yet, though. It'd been too interesting to shut down immediately-- Declan had observed mass hysteria in a concert crowd before, of course, but this was just something entirely different. It was almost impressive, if not for the morbidity of it all. Declan didn't want people to get hurt, after all, but there was something almost entrancing about the hysteria that kept his finger off the button. A little voice in the back of his head, maybe. He'd felt odd a few moments ago, hadn't he? It was the crescendo of the track-- the way it built up, the way it bled, like blood flowing from the speakers to shower them all. Something--

Something was wrong.

He was already beginning the shutdown process when Kosuke threw himself into the booth. Ignoring the man's words as he worked, Declan only began to show signs of paying attention once Kosuke shoved him away from the computer-- and even then, the only thing that came from him was a sharp breath, tight and frustrated. The lead singer was blathering on as he fuddled with the computer, bemoaning the tape, the... weapon, in his words. Declan blinked, as if to internalize everything that had been happening. A weapon. Funny-- he'd thought so low of the concert that he'd thought that, up until now, the crowd was just a heaping pile of bloodthirsty shitheads. No, this made a lot more sense, given his own emotions moments ago.

Feeding into that inkling of a feeling for the last time, Declan calmly slapped Kosuke across the face to stun him out of his own fervor, then guarded against what he figured would be a retaliation.

[font color=#ff8f00]"Calm down."[/font] He offered in advance, staring at the singer. [font color=#ff8f00]"I can handle getting the drive out and shutting down the speakers. I need you to settle the fuck down and call the police."[/font]

And he did just that-- once more taking his seat at the computer and moving to the audio files on the :C drive of the laptop he'd been given. It housed some demos, tracks with vocals, and isolated backing tracks-- all of which he'd cut and move into a thumb drive which had already been put into the side of the computer. A quick once-over of the main SSD, and he ejected the drive, handing it to Kosuke.

[font color=#ff8f00]"What did you do?"[/font]

It was too enticing a question not to ask.

“Please, no! Whatever the hell you are, just let me live!”

Veljara had trodden her way through the herd, their frightened stampede unwittingly leading more of them directly into her clutches. Although they had not stayed within them for very long, her practiced hands making quick work of their pitiful lives. She was by the stage now, and some hero decided to take a swing at her. He hadn’t connected, of course, but attempting to lay a finger on one of the valkyries deserved a special death. So his feet kicked in the air, desperate to find something solid, his neck solidly grasped in a single hand. Veljara peered into the eyes of this panicked animal, its mewling pleas grating against her eardrums.

“So pitiful. You are not worthy of Valhalla.”

A swift tightening of her first, a harsh crunch, and the cries stopped. The carcass slipped from her grasp and fell to the ground in an unceremonious heap. No funerary rites were given, nor were they deserved. A familiar voice rang out, and Veljara turned in anticipation. Phones were scattered as Thor’s lightning arced between them, a rudimentary cage forming around her. It appeared as though some brave souls had decided to fight the inevitable. The electric figure standing outside the cage was familiar, Ellie. Veljara’s eyes scanned the crowd and saw another figure approaching, like a fish making her way through the sea of terror; a figure whose muscled silhouette she knew all too well. So Vasia was here too. There was no room in the end for emotions, but she could hold back on her. Just a small amount.

Her attention turned to the wielder of lightning, to the cage surrounding her. Or more specifically, to the outline of phones providing the power. Veljara drew her arms inward, crossing over her chest. The flames licked further, enveloping her shoulders in their orange caress. They began to glow brighter, shifting hue until, with a shout, Veljara flung her arms out. A wave of white-hot flame exploded from her, searing heat on its heels. Circuitry snapped and popped, cheap plastic melted, and blue bolts fizzled and died. Veljara rolled her neck, the flames settling back down along her hands.

“A disciple of Thor. Why stop me, when I have been foretold for hundreds of years?”
Veljara took a step forward, her voice low, accent thick.

“I am inevitable, just like your mentor’s death against Jörmungandr. Do not fight it.”

Veljara launched herself at Tazer, one flame-drenched hand looking to gouge at her face while the other sought her neck with its searing grasp.
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[div style="font-size:13px;background-color:rgb(10, 7, 21);font-family:monospace;padding:40px;max-width:1200px;margin:auto;color:white;"]And thus, to the beat of a song unheard, the crowd was able to disperse.


There were, of course, the matter of those trapped by the Valkyrie's wrath- and, inevitably, those trapped by the efforts sought to contain it. There were a few caught within the electric fence, unable (or afraid) to pass its borders. God. God- that electric one was in on it, wasn't she? She was herding them in- she wanted to ensure there was a group that couldn't escape! They would be easy pickings for the Vakryrie, her ally!

That's how it looked on stage, of course. That's how it looked to Axel. He squinted across the crowd to try and recognise faces, but the distance was too great- he had to improvise. He stepped towards the microphone, picked it up from the floor where Vanity had so carelessly dropped it, and pulled it towards his face.

[font size="4"][font color="ff0000"]"HEY!"[/font][/font] He shouted, his voice echoing through the speakers, [font color="ff0000"]"It's the... the burning one! Someone stop her! And the electric one, too; I think they're- I think they're working together!"[/font]

They had to be, right? He thought they had to be.

[div style="border-top:1px solid red;width:100%;"][/div]

[font color="ff0000"]"-fucking system? I need that drive- fuck, man, fuck, can't this thing just w-"[/font]


The hit landed squarely on the side of his jaw, knocking the words from his mouth and the sunglasses from his eyes.

He stood still for a second too long.

Then, slowly, he turned his head towards Declan. Staring. Seething. It was only now, in their absence, that the sunglasses could be appreciated for what they might have been all along; a buffer. Without them, his fury could not be hidden. Without them, his pinprick stare could pierce directly through whoever was unlucky enough to meet it. Without them, the dark circles beneath his eyes were so pronounced, they looked like the pits of a skull- the baleful stare of a death unsleeping, more ghost than man, more hate than rationality. He opened his mouth to speak- and, for a split second, produced the beginnings of a sound unheard.

He quickly brought a hand to his face to catch himself, resolving the guttural tone into a harmless clear of the throat. Then, he turned away, and picked up the sunglasses from the floor.

[font color="ff0000"]"Aah, they're okay!"[/font] He said, sliding them back over his eyes, [font color="ff0000"]"Man, I really should get these frames tightened..."[/font]

The malice had evaporated alongside much of the panic he had shown before. Clearly, Declan's plan to slap some sense into him had worked- at least, well enough to get him coherent again.

[font color="ff0000"]"Sorry, I- sorry. I'm calm."[/font]

Kosuke gave a heavy sigh as he took the drive, turning it over in his hand a few times to seemingly help him focus.

[font color="ff0000"]"This... this needs explaining, doesn't it?"[/font] He muttered under his breath, [font color="ff0000"][font size="1"]"Can't exactly hide it anymore, can you now? Not in front of all those fucking-[/font] Alright, alright. How best to put this..."[/font]

He raised his arms up by his side- half shrugging, half gesturing to himself.

[font color="ff0000"]"I'm a metahuman."[/font]

As if Declan couldn't already tell.

[font color="ff0000"]"Not exactly the good kind, either."[/font] He frowned, [font color="ff0000"]"The trait- it's more like a curse, I think. I mean, like, I can do it on command, but sometimes it just- it's like hiccups, y'know? Sometimes it just happens, at random- I'm a singer, y'know, that's why I- that's why I started this whole Vanity thing, Declan- I-I'm a fucking guitarist, you think I wouldn't rather be playing the fucking guitar right now? I had to sing, I have to sing- it was meant to help me control it- like, if I can control my normal voice, then maybe I could extend that control to my-"[/font]

He paused. Raised a hand. Collected himself. Then, after a moment, he continued.

[font color="ff0000"]"There's, like- I can make people go insane. By singing. The louder it's played, the worse it gets- clearly, it was played pretty fucking loud, because people are killing each other out there-"[/font]

Another sigh.

[font color="ff0000"]"It just... induces this intense, psychotic rage- and I mean psychotic as in, like, actually psychotic. It makes them delusional. It... well, it can turn violent."[/font]

He tossed the drive in the air and caught it in his hand, before shoving it deep into his pocket. Then, once the drive was away, his tone seemed to shift- less panicked, more collected.

[font color="ff0000"]"Wipe the computer, actually."[/font] He said, [font color="ff0000"]"Or just- I don't know, destroy it- fucking- smash it, or something. I... I can't..."[/font]

His voice caught in his throat. The panic returned on cue.

[font color="ff0000"]"I can't let this happen again, okay?"[/font][/div]
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Those in the fence were gone. She couldn't help them one look at the wounds and she'd known it if the wounds didn't the arterial spray reflecting the lights did. Ellie when at home liked to do puzzles or study crime scene photos, helped give her busy mind a center. And in her studies there in she saw the kind of violence to help her be somewhat more at ease in a moment like this one. To see who in a room she could still save I'm a worse case scenario. Right now she couldn't help the wounded but she could block off more.

Or so she she thought until a move was being prepared. It looked hot and had a brief suggestion of going to be an area of effect attack. She kicked off the ground Tazer going into the air. She went upward and tried to pull the lightning toward her. Grip it, she could see it as a lasso perhaps to use but then someone said something. Redirect the lightning while she had it, toss it into the air.

[font color="#00FFFF"][font size="5"]It's Tazer, Duh.[/font][/font]

Ellie would have liked to be nicer or more informative. Turned out though when trying to use limited remains of a lightning fence, from phones which didn't have much energy anyway, to write a message before landing things weren't in her favor. Quick and simple was what she had to go with. Ellie needed people to know she was here to help and be quick about it. Because she was already landing, feet touch down. There's a smell of burnt rubber if the attack from the valykrie had been any higher or hotter the condition of the dressed for rave like hero would have been so much worse off.

A forarm comes up in defense and as such is caught in the grip of the warrior. Already the smell of burning skin was starting to hint at the air. Ellie had a bit of resilience to heat just do to how electricity involved a fair bit. The nature of electricity though was not a one to one however some resilience was not immunity. She barely had longer then another, and it absolutely didn't feel good either way. Retaliation was in order and it had to be swift! [font color="#00FFFF"]"More disciple of the law."[/font] Was a drop out but that wasn't what was important.

Turn into the hold to close the distance. The warrior's right arm has trapped the hero's left. So her right hand would shoot upwards! A sriking palm moving more like a sports car trying to hit top speed then something human. Her striking power alone was decent but with the speed it was capable of much more. With the blow also came well her name sake. A stunning blow of electricity looking to trip up the body. Reacting to the move, possibly stunned it would hopefully help create an opening.

Rise of her arm looking to then come down in a back handed fist. A full extending of her arm that allowed greater reach. A speeding punch to the head wasn't pleasing. It came though with an electrical flash. Fist to helmet was the bang, the lightning flash well the flash. Ideally disorienting or even temporarily blinding. [font color="#00FFFF"]"Just think of me fighting as trying to get into Valhalla."[/font]

[googlefont=Metrophobic][div][attr="style","max-width:850px;margin:auto;display:grid;grid-template-columns:16px auto 16px;grid-template-rows:16px auto 16px;grid-template-areas:'CornerTL Top CornerTR' 'Left Main Right' 'CornerBL Bottom CornerBR';background-color:#000000;border:2px #BAD8E9 solid;"][div][attr="style","grid-area:CornerTL;"][div][attr="style","width:100%;height:100%;border-right:2px #BAD8E9 solid;border-bottom:2px #BAD8E9 solid;"][/div][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:Top;"][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:CornerTR;"][div][attr="style","width:100%;height:100%;border-left:2px #BAD8E9 solid;border-bottom:2px #BAD8E9 solid;"][/div][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:Left;"][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:Right;"][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:CornerBL;"][div][attr="style","width:100%;height:100%;border-right:2px #BAD8E9 solid;border-top:2px #BAD8E9 solid;"][/div][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:Bottom;"][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:CornerBR;"][div][attr="style","width:100%;height:100%;border-left:2px #BAD8E9 solid;border-top:2px #BAD8E9 solid;"][/div][/div][div][attr="style","grid-area:Main;border:2px #BAD8E9 solid; background-color:#000000; color:#E3EFF6;padding:9px;margin:-10px;"][div][attr="style","font-family:'Metrophobic';font-size:115%;"][div style="margin-left:60px;"]Short are the cries of the ones bound for Charon,[/div]No long-lamenting the fate set before them: the time for a eulogy
Truncated harshly by bone-crushing forces, the sinews unraveled.
Blood taints the ground in a crimson-slick pattern: a fell-wrought mosaic.

Flame counters lightning; with star-searing burning the pillars are toppled,
Circuit-devices lain wasted and smoking: gone are their powers.
No more the chains that had bound them together, and fallen the fencing
That once held back heroes.

[div style="margin-left:60px;"]Felling the lightning, the maiden of fire[/div]Looks forth for victims, for those she might claim for her slaughter: einherjar
Waiting for broad-feathered wings, to be carried aloft to Valhalla.

One of these challengers steps forth unaided, bright-bound by lightning.
Tazer, she names herself: alias drawn from the lightning she carries
Bound to her will. While the bright light disorients, now she is word-wielding.
With this announcement the fight is begun 'twixt these firm-standing heroes.
Fire and lightning, the bright-wielders turn to each other.

[div style="margin-left:180px;"]But wait.[/div]Battle is made not of light on its own, for the shadows and darkness
Have long laid a claim on the turning of tides. One step, another:
Forgotten and quiet, now timing her entrance is driven Vasia.
Down comes the heel of her boot on the remnant of glass-cased technology:
Shattered, the fire-burnt phone in her hand now a broken-sharp shard
Metal and casing aligned to a point just as sharp as a knife.

Her eyes read the battle before her, the steps she must take and their rhythm.
Time marks the tempo, each measure determined, each movement constrained
The beat holds the action, refusing relinquishment. Drawn in this time frame
Vasia slips inward, each moment a surety, blade in her hand wrapped:
Cloth will protect her, a sliver quick-torn from her now-tattered clothing.
She wraps it around on the flesh of her palm, and then bracing her blade
Drives from behind, now and aiming to lodge in this unwanted thorn
'Neath the unguarded shoulder of flame-kissed Veljara.[/div][/div][/div]
Someone had stomped on her foot, another cracked their elbow into the back of Eli’s back, at some point she had felt the hem of her shirt catch on something and tear. The girl grit her teeth as she shouldered her way forward through the panicked crowd. She just needed to stay on her feet, if she could just do that then she wouldn’t get trampled. Someone screamed at her to turn back but by the time she turned her head to look they had been swept away by the crowd. That was good, well meaning people like that shouldn’t get themselves tied up in dangerous things like this.

And that made this where she deserved to be didn’t it?

She struggled forward a few more steps, raised her arms to guard her face against another glancing blow and then the crowd around her thinned. Someone tried to catch her arm as they passed, but Eli was able to brush them off. They said something, but she didn’t hear what it was, nor did it matter, she could see well enough. The air was caustic, burnt plastic mixed with a salty iron scent. Why did people always — what was even the point of — all this pain? Her hands curled into fists and she pressed her fingernails into her palm.

There were other heroes fighting, surrounded by the bloodied and dying. One of them was that lightening lady that she had seen on her first day in town and someone up on stage was calling for people try to stop the murder…(s?) that was insane.

Eli stopped and cupped her hands over her lips.

Tell them to run!” She yelled back up onto the stage. “Direct them which way they need to run! You idiot!

The lightning-wielder flew, redirecting the last gasps of her fence into a message branding herself as Tazer. Veljara launched at her as she landed, her flaming claws caught on a hastily thrown-up forearm, the skin beginning to succumb to her heat, as all would eventually. A blow was struck, hard and fast, snapping the valkyrie’s head back. Veljara stumbled back, releasing her grasp on Tazer. As she regained herself, Tazer followed up with a fist, crackling electricity accompanying it to render vision inert. In the searing blindness that followed, a sharp pain embedded itself in her shoulder, an ally to Tazer it would seem. Veljara leapt, the weapon still lodged inside her, landing several feet back. She shook her head, vision recovering. Tazer’s words echoed, and the valkyrie’s gaze snapped to her.

“You dare speak of Valhalla? You are not worthy to set foot in Óðinn’s mead halls!”
Veljara roared in anger, her flames coalescing into two globules clutched in her hands. With a shout, she launched them into the air, spheres of flame that burst and became liquid, raining down around her. It lingered where it landed on the ground, but slithered inside any corpses that it fell onto.

“Allow me to show you what becomes of those like you, of those who fail in their quest for glory.”

From the puddles of fire, the dead rose. Twisted, misshapen things, wrought of smoke and flame. Cinders filled their sockets, and they lurched forward with an unnatural speed. The corpses jerked to their feet, sparks and flames flitting from the wounds that had brought their demise, moving in a way that would have been impossible in life. They charged toward Tazer, not as a collective group, but disjointed and chaotic. They bit, slashed, and burned, their skin feverish, their nails talons, their teeth fangs.

Veljara turned her attention to the other hero, her hand grasping for the object embedded in her shoulder. She ripped it free, widening the gash before it was cauterized by her own heat. She looked towards its wielder. Of course, of course it would be sweet Vasia. Who else could take a half-melted phone and wield it like Sigmundr wielded Gram? The makeshift weapon was crushed in her fist, the plastic liquifying and stretching before becoming yet another flaming mass. This one Veljara stretched between her hands, a flaming arch overhead that solidified into five spheres of fire that launched themselves at Vasia in rapid succession, seeking to drive her off, if not harm her.
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[font color="#00FFFF"]"I went from dropping out of college to being a streamer. Going to need better insults if want to make me a screamer."[/font] Now if that Norse lady over from the Ball had said that it would have stung. Thought of Freyja going from a sparring partner to thinking Ellie didn't deserve the respect of any warrior that would have dug deep. Especially because she kind of got the vibes could be more then just a friend. And thr fact she thought it might be implied was a shinning example that the stunner while bright in many ways was rather lacking in social ques. Low battery in a party setting in place of high energy in a situation like this.

Globes of lava are tossed into the air. A crackle of electricity lingers in the air as Ellie jumped backwards. The globs were not aimed at her but she would rather not risk being in the splash zone. As her arm had shown her skin wasn't exactly fire proof and she also just liked this skirt.

Where lava fell soon zombies had emerged. Corpses of the bodies impaled and broken came back to standing, embers burned where slashes and gouges had been. Mouths still posed like someone screaming now only spat plumes of smoke. The noise of cackling flames the dominant sound from the undead. A laughter of fire to hail their return to the world of the living. They shamble into position and before a quip could be made they attack!

A side step past one it stumbles forward grasping at the air. She considers a counter but another is already coming. Duck low to avoid its embrace and the position is low enough the monster fumbles. It was falling so she rolls with this further in opposite direction and helping ensure the terror falls onto its face. Her body flows into the motion sparks of azure mixing with those of red as she speeds herself up. Cracked bone, cooked skin its a weaker thing. The talons aren't limited by pain of the body making it easy to rip into the body. Flesh itself though is soft especially once cooked. Her leg is like a blade and an undead own legs part from its body.

No time for a follow up another is coming at her from the left. Duck low and jump up, her arm is poised like a spear the jab aimed at the throat. The sound of rending parts and what one might consider "bone trying to sound like burnt wood snapping" follows. The move separated the zombie head from the rest of the body. Tazer and the trophie traveling into the air. She shakes the head off foot rising as her and the skull fall. A swift kick and then the severed head like a soccer ball rockets toward another zombie. Two heads soon popping into clouds of ash.

During the fall an undead from earlier tackles her. A jaw bites into her shoulder. There's none there it struggles to get to deep not that it had long to try. Soon blood was spilt and with it electricity escaping her body. Volts escape the wound and in a flash of crackling light the head of her biter was just a spatter pattern of ashy whites and black on her shoulder. Tending to the undead meant at the time she wasn't able to help the other hero on the stage though. Now though she had another source of static to pull from. A hand to her shoulder and as she pulled away while some blood dropped more so lightning trailed from her. [font color="#00FFFF"]"Don't think you can tase a zombie, so I guess it's danger high voltage."[/font] Now not only was her left arm burnt but the shoulder bit into maybe now wasn't time for jokes. She liked the idea though of heroes being confident in the face of peril at laughing off the pain. A quip was no bandaid but it helped her be the hero she desired to be.