Open RP The Bait

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Ira

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Staff member
Fifteen men.

Honestly, Anna thought it was too little.


«слишком мало»

Anna had told Mary.

«Извините! я не понимаю по-русски»

Mary had replied.

The cheeky woman.

But thinking logically, fifteen might even be too many.

But it wasn’t Anna’s place to argue.

So she geared up and gave orders to fifteen of the most violent, uncontrollable newbies from the Militia, then stripped them of their insignias and formally fired them. She wouldn't be leading them, nor would she accompany them. They knew what this meant. But Anna, in her own twisted way, had a single, chilling parting phrase to former members.

“Remember. No Russian.”



BREAKING NEWS! VIOLENCE IN THE STREET!


“Pandemonium!!"

Camera centers on the beet red face of Jimmy Jonnes. He's standing and pointing frantically at a large screen. Camera briefly looks at the screen, scenes of fires being started, bricks being thrown through windows, high end shops being vandalized as passerbys take advantage of the situation and do a little looting. The scene is relatively small and contained, but the camera pans back to Jimmy before the small scale can be easily understood.

"Look at this! Look at these mobsters! Hooligans! Gangbangers!"

The camera quickly pans to the screen once more, showing two of the rioters armed with knuckledusters and molotovs. They throw their firebombs into the storefront of a bakery as the owner runs away down the street. As quickly as it showed the scene, the camera pans back to Jimmy.

"Unbelievable! Unacceptable! Where are the police?! Where is law enforcement?! Half of this district is owned by respectable businessman James Fielding!! Is there no one to protect him and his community?!"

The camera pans back, the rioting continues alongside Jimmy's ranting. This is good content, and his drones being in the area will allow him to film the entire scene live. He could not have been more thankful for the anonymous tip. With this kind of rampant, senseless violence, his ratings were sure to skyrocket. Jimmy shouted once more, a phrase he'd likely shout many times before the evening waned into night.

"And where are the so-called vigilantes supposedly protecting our fair city?! Where?!"





OOC: Event thread, wait for Stitches the Mod to post before joining. 15 unmarked individuals are causing mayhem in downtown. They're armed with melee weapons exclusively, no guns. They're not harming anyone yet but they are causing major property damage and creating an actively dangerous zone by starting fires. Metas are encouraged to take them down. Feel free to RP out your interactions with the NPCs as you would like or DM me on discord if you'd like me to run your opps.
 

Hematite and Pearl had just been saying their goodbyes. There had been no reason for them to suspect anything would happen, and especially not so fast. When the men showed up and started breaking windows and starting fires, they had been almost halfway down the block from the Diamond. Hematite had pulled them quickly into an alley, placing Pearl behind him. The small, blonde woman had just been visiting and had left late from the Christmas party after healing Onyx. She was supposed to leave the day before, but her plane had been canceled due to weather conditions where she was headed up north.

The noise coming from the street wasn’t reassuring. Hematite looked over at Pearl. She had been one of the first and most devoted Slate members, an early join from before Hematite had ever been on Obsidian’s radar. There was a nervousness to her that wasn’t quite fear, but wasn’t far off from it. He had to do something. There had to be a way to get her to her car and out of here. As he peered out from behind the corner, a soft sigh came from his parted lips.

“Alright Pearl, you stay here. I’m going to go take care of this.”

“Hematite, you can’t be serious. Just because you can turn to steel doesn’t mean you can take all of them on.” She nervously clung to his arm, trying to keep him from getting up and moving.

Very gently, he unwrapped her hands from him and held them for a moment, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Don’t you worry about anything. You just stay here. I promise, everything will be fine.

With that, he spun up to his feet and stepped out into the street. It was chaos. Buildings were catching fire, broken glass was everywhere, and a few of the men were cornering civilians. As much as Slate was a terrorist organization, they didn’t hurt civilians. They didn’t have to. And this street, this street was the heart of Slate’s territory in Pittsburgh. It wouldn’t do to have these idiots running around breaking everything.

As he stepped onto the street, he let the steel climb up and across his skin. He would have preferred his bat, but maybe he could lift something off one of these fuckers. He cracked his neck, then his fists, as he stopped in the middle of the road. He looked to the closest man, who was starting to turn toward him.

“Alright then. Let’s do this, yeah? I kick the shit out of you and your friends, and you leave and don’t ever come back.”
 
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It was loud enough for all of them to hear, the commanding voice of the steel man. However, most of them ignored him anyway. Not because he wasn't intimidating enough or that they weren't afraid of him in any way. Nothing like that. Rather, it was the two men that responded to Hematite that incited such courage in the others.

One man, lithe and dressed casually, withdrew a cattle prod from the back pouch of his 'Timu-brand' armored vest. However, the prod had been adjusted and improvised to hook up to dozens of batteries held in the man's backpack. The result? Instead of a low voltage, small shock meant to move cattle, the prod had been made to output an extreme amount of electricity far beyond what any modern taser could handle.

The other, a big, bulky man roughly the same size as Hematite, was just big. Being big had its perks and this was the kind of guy that used them to get what he wanted. Cracking his knuckles, the big guy responded,

"Love to see you try, you shiny metal asshole."

They charged at the same time. The big guy aiming to smash his fist into Hematite's face, the lithe man seeking to jab the improvised prod directly into Hematite's crotch.
 


Hematite was big. He was only five foot eight, but he was built like a brick house. And that was why no one ever expected him to move the way he did. He ducked low, under the big man’s fist, and reached a hand out and caught the upper side of the prod, avoiding the electrified end. He licked at his silvered lips as his body finished the transformation, the steel crawling through him and binding to his cells as they changed.

As soon as the prod was in his hand, he gave it a yank and started to spin, turning to try and get to his feet. As he did, he tried to drag the prod out of the other man’s hand, maybe take him down with it. This gave the big guy a slight opening as Hemie moved, which would probably be a problem. But disarming the guy who could electrocute him with a high voltage weapon took priority. He could take a hit or two. The other man was as likely to break his hand if he punched him as Hemie was to actually take damage.

Behind him, Pearl peeked out from the wall of the alley. She ducked back in quickly, her blonde head only visible for a moment. Hematite was between her and everyone else. It needed to stay that way. Pearl wasn’t a fighter, and she had no defenses against any sort of attack. She could only heal others.​
 
The first man, holding the prod, went swinging down with it as Hematite pulled. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the foresight to let go- rather, it was the simple fact that the wrist loop was still on that drug him around like a ragdoll. He let out a sharp yelp as he hit the floor. Simultaneously, his buddy let out a much larger yelp, a scream even, as something in his hand cracked on Hematite’s skin.

Pulling his hand back, the bigger man cursed under his breath before reaching into his back pocket. Slipping a set of titanium ‘knuckles’ over his good hand, he shouted, ”Cheatin’ meta! If you didn’t have your stupid powers-“

Unceremoniously, he was interrupted by his friend. Frantically pulling at the wrist strap to try and free himself from beneath Hematite, he shouted, ”Bro stop aura farming and help me!”

Nearby, a crash of glass could be heard accompanied by a scream. Two more ‘ruffians’ in cheap mass produced ‘body armor’ had just picked up an unfortunate passerby and thrown him through a nearby window.
 
Adrien had only moved into Pittsburgh maybe half a day before he witnessed a literal zombie apocalypse. Well, not so much witnessed as stayed the fuck away and avoided it at all costs. I guess Pittsburgh really was as weird as they said…

Today, he had decided to explore further afield. Right now, he was across the street from a women's shelter, stopping in a local buy, sell, and trade. Adrien had just finished looking through the first shelving unit of Blu-rays when a massive street brawl began. Well, more like localized chaos as they seemingly weren’t attacking people.

When two rough-looking guys entered the store, he didn't react at first as they pushed over a few shelves. For a moment, Adrien hesitated not out of fear but from the feedback he got from them. It had always been difficult to completely suppress what he got back in the feedback loop as he almost unwillingly connected to someone's mind. Using a distraction to focus on usually helped. But no distractions now as he read an almost unmistakable contradiction of happiness mixed with its opposite. A taste of freedom seemingly soured. Why?

If it had just been rage, it would’ve been easily explained, but not now.

“HEY, WHAT THE FUCK!!! Why are you doing this!?!!?”

Adrien walked towards them if they continued damaging the store, he would throw a punch at the closest one. He was by no means a strong man, but that didn’t mean he was gonna sit back and let them trash the place!

The next thing he remembered was being thrown through the window of the storefront. While he was falling backwards, he let out a telekinetic pulse. He had to scatter the glass and avoid any large pieces. But he was trying to keep that he had powers on the down low, so Adrien hoped he wouldn’t overdo it.

As he landed in the street, he picked up several new impressions: confidence and hate. He hadn’t much experience picking up emotions. This felt like a different kind of hate as he squirmed in the street. Adrien grabbed at some shards of glass, none too big but not too small either. If those thugs had decided to come outside after him, he would have tried to throw the shards into their faces, blinding them. He would then go on the offensive, taking on the one who did get blinded or whichever was closest if they both were.

If they did not follow outside, he would go back into the store and blind them there. He was gonna show them he wasn’t gonna go down easy. Remember no powers…
 


With the first man down on the ground, Hematite smiled, the left corner of his mouth pulling further than the right and turning it into a bit of a smirk. The other man had broken his hand against his steel skin, an expected outcome of a normal man fighting him. Unlike his original teacher Malachite, Hematite's skin had no openings in it for someone to dig between. His skin was seamlessly steel. Unfortunately, something like a cattle prod would electrify the fuck out of him.

First order of business– He stomped on the prod, hoping to snap it in half with his weight. As he took that step forward, he threw a light punch, aiming for the standing man's gut. He didn't want to kill him, or damage him irreparably, but putting him on his ass would do a lot of good.

"It ain't cheatin' if I have a natural advantage over you, brotha'." He spoke with an almost cheerful tone, the cocky smile still on his face. There was little these men could really do to him that could hurt him. Not unless they had something with heavy firepower tucked away, or a steel bat. Something like that would leave a dent.

Dents, of course, were bad. Those left bruises, damage to his body that translated through. Sometimes they left him bleeding if they were deep enough. Cracks? Those were broken bones. Those were very bad. He couldn't keep it together long with that kind of pressure building in a limb. But thankfully, it seemed these men didn't have much to really use against him.​
 
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