Cyberworld Hero Future RP Thread

The Blasted Wastes (New York Ashlands) Year: 7057 Month: June Day: 13th Hour: 1248

Six B-SHRIKE Fighters race through the skies on the way to the drop site. An unusual energy signature was detected in the outskirts of the Blasted Wastes - or, what had used to be New York. The quick moving airship fighters navigated the ash and dust in the air expertly well, using an onboard magitech shield. The energy signature had erupted during the previous night, and after apt study was done on the source and the nature of the surge, the decision was made to send in the HERO units. Including the fateful Alph Squad

The destination was a desolate, worn down tower, from which the HERO units would be able to traverse the Wastes to reach and assault the Machine Encampment that seemed to surround the energy signature.

The Blasted Wastes however are a well known hotspot for Shadow and Machine activity both, and the mission will need to be undertaken quickly and efficiently.

All throughout the former city, however, one might be able...

...to hear a song.

"Alright, we should be inbound in about 10 minutes 45 seconds 27 nanoseconds, squad." Zhane Noon reported from his position piloting the B-SHRIKE via his powers - the young Recon Hero was something of a young prodigy, even though he was specifically not inclined to combat. He would be assisting from afar in directing the HEROES toward their destination. Zhane was supposedly related to one of the elites from the Moondwellers, though equally supposedly, Zhane had been an illegitimate offspring. And that, especially in this age, was something few in High Command liked.

The sixteen year old was only about five foot eight inches tall, scarcely physically developed, and more pretty than handsome. Not helping this was his wavy black and silver hair, an odd quirk which coincidentally matched well enough with his bright blue eyes. He didn't apparently let that bother him very much though. "I'm...admittedly excited, Squad. This is my first time actually physically going to the New York Ashlands."

The Alph Squad - riding in the foremost B-SHRIKE - would get there first, ahead of the other Squads, though their job was arguably more difficult for it.

Before long, the B-SHRIKE started to find its landing site and begin its descent, thus giving the people on the ship some time amongst themselves to discuss and socialize before the danger commenced...

Edited by NickTheSwing on Oct 26th 2020 at 5:43:42 AM

Alula Seles

The resident mute of the group tried her hardest to hide her trepidation behind a small anticipatory smile, and flicked her blankly glowing yellow eyes over to the others near her as she politely nodded along to Zhane's admitted enthusiasm. She could appreciate the excitement involved in visiting a new place. What they were set to do, however...

Oh, my poor people. May you be cut down swiftly and graciously, so your dignity can be preserved. I'll spare as many as I can, if it can be done...

~Worried,~” she signed to the group in general, and if they could not understand ASL she flashed an anxious expression towards them to communicate her point. ~You worried too?~

She accompanied this with a point towards them, slightly tilting her head in a mixture of genuine concern and curiosity towards them.

Old Man Elijah

"Tch. Naw," the-man-who-was-calling-himself-Elijah-now scoffed, though it was clear that he was not scoffing at anyone present as he rolled his eyes at the quickly approaching landscape below. "New York was a city once, you know. If you go—" He rattled off a list of directions which seemed to be based on pure memory of landmarks rather than actual orienteering skills. "—thataway, you'll get to what used to be Coney Island. Used to be what you folks would call an entertainment district. Back in my day—well, not really my day, but you get the point—we called it a theme park. And in a bit—" The speed of the B-SHRIKEs made judging distances somewhat confusing for the old man. "—fuck! Fuck, nevermind—look over there and you can see the remains of ol' Lady Liberty..."

Indeed, the statue was half-buried in pieces under the wastes, with only the bronze torch peeking out of the earth, still being held aloft after all this time.

"'They're not going to bomb Lady Liberty,' I thought, but then again, look at how they massacred m'lady," Elijah shrugged. "'Not her!' I thought, but it was done anyways. Ain't no place a place for the tired, the poor, the huddled masses yearning to break free no more. Not New York, nope!" He shook his head and went quiet.

Edited by JumpingFruit on Oct 26th 2020 at 6:33:15 AM

Hux Adams

Red eyes gazed down at a dark hand covered in ancient markings. Wards of protection, his grandmother called them. He wondered, at times, if it was symbolic that his power covered up those wards. A silly thought. As far as he knew, they were just traditional tattoos given to his family. An old-fashioned religious practice.

He knew there was no coincidence the old man on his Squad had the same markings. And the same red eyes. It was also transparently obvious that his name wasn't Elijah. But the ancient one was a mystery for later.

Hux eyed his other hand, covered in a clawed gauntlet, and flexed his fingers, making sure the mechanism still moved smoothly.

"Don't let worry control you, Alula." He said, looking up at the girl. Well, looking up from his hand. She was a foot shorter than him, so he was still looking down. "Everyone gets anxious. It is not about being fearless, but about facing your fears."

His eyes briefly flicked over to 'Elijah'. "And you can tell your stories later, old man. Focus on the mission."

Truth be told, there was something strangely calming about Elijah's rambling. Hux liked stories; his grandmother had told him many, passed down through their family in ancient leather books. And Elijah was to his grandmother as his grandmother was to a newborn.

Hux could only imagine how many stories Elijah had.

Bea, Shrike

There is a curt cough from elsewhere in the plane. The source is the stern-looking woman in the armored regalia. She's got a sword sheathed on her back but in her lap is a bulky-looking pistol, likely kept in reach in case of an emergency before landing.

"Still your hearts, we are on a mission."

Beatrice took a deep breath and closed her eyes, going utterly silent as she mentally prepared for the battles to come.

Alula Seles

Alula merely nods at these encouragements, and purses her lips as she stares out absently through the window. After a moment or two she exhales and delicately places her hands together in front of herself—humming from the very base of her throat as the warm orange glow of her ancient magick begins to manifest as graceful swirls and sparks.

Meditation would calm her as always, and connecting to the rawest forms of local magick was always a unifying and satisfying thing. Even in a place artificial like this—which was an ironic notion, given her true nature. As a gesture of peace and kindness she let her magick glance over some of the others in a calming fashion, hoping to provide some comfort to those similarly nervous like herself.

Croire.

...Well, it was better than trying to get there on foot although to say Croire was still a little unsure on what'd happen next as the young adult did their best to avoid any stares their way, hands locked together by the armlets acting as a sort of handcuffs as they gave a small, timid nod in response Alula's 'question'.

But they couldn't help but cringe at the old man's commentary...not because of Elijah himself but of Ramialia made her annoyance towards them known...or at least only to Croire himself for the time being.

...Great, we're stuck with some rambling old fool. Knowing our luck, he's probably not the biggest nuisance I'll have to put up with.

Either way, the young man did their best to give a small smile and nod in response.

Sue

Sue was busy minding her own business. She had her feet kicked back on the other seat, leaning her head against her hands as she waited for shit to get started. She didn't care for this academy or whatever. Even if parts of it reminded her of how things used to be. How she used to be part of something. Something special.

Something loads better than this.

Maybe she couldn't judge. Maybe she'd been around too long. Maybe everyone had perfectly good reasons for making everything sterile and emotionally stilted as fuck, and maybe they were trying to keep themselves going. The only way they could.

Or maybe they were all fucking idiots.

She glanced at Hux, though she kept her gaze on the ceiling. "Hey! Nothin' wrong with stories. Course, it helps if you were there. I was there too, ya know. I think. I think I was scaling the thing cuz I thought there was a banana up its nose, and I *think* I nearly scared myself shitless after I nearly fell off the damn top. Almost as scared as when everything went Doctor Fucking Strangluv."

She spat in the nearest wastebasket, the wet loogie rimming along the bottom before going splat. "And still nothin'. You ask me, all this rules and stuff is bullshit. I mean, they think we're gonna get through the day as a bunch of stone-cold stiffs? Like, seriously? How high off their asses must those chucklefucks have been to think that shit up?"

Edited by kkhohoho on Oct 26th 2020 at 11:01:55 AM

Old Man Elijah

"High off their asses indeed," Elijah said, quietly, as he nodded grimly. "It's bad enough that most of the rules go against what it means to be a hero in the first place. It's worse that we can't form relationships. I mean, what the hell is a 'relationship?' Friendship? Marriage? Don't make sense if I can—ahem—'know' some girl in some brothel somewhere, and come to care more for the girl than I do my comrades. That's a loophole I found, by the way. No need to thank me, children."

"I liked the Old Saint Academy better," he sighed. "At least what you and your lover did on your own time was your business. Even if it was getting married and raising a kid or whatever the hell you wanted to do." Elijah started to rub his finger along the braid which contained both his and Marah's locks of hair, as he was wont to do when thinking, and sighed longingly once more as he reminisced about the past.

Edited by JumpingFruit on Oct 26th 2020 at 9:15:25 AM

The uptight-looking girl with her eyes closed mutters something under her breath about 'getting assigned to the punishment team' as she pointedly refrains from picking up her sidearm.

Zhane for his part just calmly smiled in response to all this talk. He liked his Squad, and while a few of the superiors would disapprove of some this talk, he didn't even care what the superiors thought of it. Not that he would say as much. When Bea spoke up though, he smiled a little and said, "As always straightforward and to the point."

He turned back to the control panel, not letting anyone see a light blush on his face.

It was no secret that Sue and Elijah were Old Worlders, and it seemed that got them off the hook. Sometimes Zhane had to wonder - were they simply indispensable? Or was there some deeper plan at work?

Zhane wrote in a diary that hovered in the air - a hologram diary emitted from a multi-purpose tool he wore on his arm, Dear diary. Again my superiors would chew me out if they knew of my contemplations. I wonder at the purpose of our rules. Even the Old Worlders don't seem to know. Were our rules put in place by God? I remember a lesson in history class that in the Old World, humans simply referred to one possible religion's deity as God. Remarkable utilitarianism - simply call a god God and let that be it.

They said this God was responsible for all the good and evil in the world. A remarkably mercurial and cruel idea - to wield the good to justify the bad. I cannot imagine how Old Worlders went about their day without thinking to try and kill God at least once.

Outside, the many B-SHRIKE's started to approach their destinations. And activity began to stir in the world below even as the continual ash drifts continued onward. Mechanical mono-eyes scanned old burnt buildings and long six digited claws attached to multi-part cables began to rake and scale the old buildings.

Old Man Elijah

"All right, we're landing," Elijah said, voice hardening as he straightened up in his seat. "Get your weapons ready. Goggles and face-coverings on if you have them. God only knows how hard it is to get ash and sand out of your hair..."

He checked to see that his own weapons were in order—they always were—and bundled all his braids into a headwrap before drawing a veil over the bottom of his face and donning his goggles. "Everyone watch yourselves, especially you, young Zhane. I'll stick around. Be careful not to let me bleed on you. My blood sure don't wash out easy," he advised, only half-jokingly.

Edited by JumpingFruit on Oct 26th 2020 at 10:23:51 AM

"I m-mean...anywhere o-or anything h-has rules...I-I don't know h-how things were then...but I keep h-hearing t-there's not...many heroes left now, s-so I guess t-they needed new rules...?"

Again, Croire cringed as Ramialia continued to get more agitated. Letting her take over now wouldn't...exactly be ideal although the thought that they'd probably be getting to fight the shadows SOON was at least enough to suppress her. Somewhat. Picking up the broken sword and pipe sort of helped.

"...A...Alright...I-I'm ready..."

Edited by TheRealWren on Oct 27th 2020 at 4:09:55 AM

Alula Seles

Alula couldn't help but grin slightly at the complaining from both Sue and Elijah, and let out a voiceless giggle as she was unwittingly broken out from her meditative state. Which was fair enough, as it seemed as if they were landing imminently anyhow. She discreetly adjusted the small image inducer on her neck, before heading to the back of the dropship to retrieve her K'narii blades—which were compact enough normally for her to stow away neatly on her back; sitting relatively flush against the surface of her (false) skin.

The meekness and stammering tone of Croire soon caught her attention, and she cocked her head towards him with an expression of deep sympathy as she let out a voiceless sigh and moved over to him in order to give him a comforting rub on the shoulder. She overall didn't seem particularly bothered with the fact they were gonna be on the ground in the next two minutes or so. This took priority in her mind.

A strange coo involuntarily escaped through her lips as she considered this reasoning of hers, and she coughed delicately with an embarrassed flush on her cheeks. The image inducer was exactly that, and it didn't do much to disguise her K'narii tones when she wasn't paying enough attention to herself. Thankfully this time it sounded just like a mere falter of her throat, and she supposed it could be excused as a complication related to her apparent muteness.

Assuming everyone was willing to even accept that excuse, of course.

Bea, Shrike

As the aircraft began to descend, the stern woman let out a deep breath as she finished whatever mediation she had been previously engaged with and returned her pistol to its holster on her belt before standing.

"I would like to thank our pilot for this deployment and to remind him to be ready for extraction. While this is likely to be a difficult mission, if we follow the Code then I do not see why we cannot nobly do our duty here."

With a curt nod at the end of her quasi-speech, she once again takes her seat and waits for landing proper and the mission to begin.

Croire

Almost instantly, Croire flinched from Alula trying to reassure him, going a bright shade of crimson and giving something akin to a small squeak, looking incredibly flustered, trying to look away AND hide his face in his hands from embarrassment.

...and yet not long after he looked away, for the briefest of moments, he turned back at Alula for the briefest of moments, hair jet black, face feminine and clearly not Croire, giving her giving one hell of an annoyed, if not outright hostile glare.

Then Ramialia changed back in the blink of an eye, only needing to have transform a little and leaving an even more flustered, fidgeting incredibly apologetic Croire as he nervously moved away, hoping no-one noticed.

Landing Imminent

"A-Alright everyone, visors and or any other protective gear on now!" Zhane stumbled over himself announcing the standard procedure. While he wasn't exactly a combat ready HERO he had a long sword and an offhand short sword ready just in case.

A number of compartments opened up in the B-SHRIKE's wall, letting out the protective gear the Alph Squad was going to need. When the equipment was fitted on, the airship would fly down on to what looked like some kind of tower covered in ash. It was marked on the onboard map Zhane had on his device as "The Tower of Remembrance", though what it was remembering he had no idea.

"Alright everyone," Zhane started as the doors opened up, "I'll be in touch over the Comms Systems. And...ahem, "let us reclaim our human world"." Off in the distance, the other B-SHRIKE's were commencing their own landings.

Alula

Flinching a little at Croire's momentary change, she regardless gave him a tight smile of assurance in response to his apology before exhaling and drawing away from him finally. She looked towards Zhane at his orders, and nodded firmly—obediently heading over to pick up her protective gear and suiting up as discreetly as she could.

It was only a few light armour plates atop a durable formfitting mesh, but it'd do for her purposes. She wasn't planning to get hit after all, and she preferred access to her K'narii movement and flexibility over any sort of heavy defensive gear. Once the hatch opened, she cautiously approached it—glancing back at the others in anticipation.

Spirits of old, give us strength. Let my magick be true, and my essence kind.

Hux

"There is some purpose to having rules, having order, as long as those rules are just." Hux replied, gaze flicking over to the monkey girl for a moment.

His grandmother had told him of the old gods, of ancient myths. To the East there had been a legend, of a monkey who fought his way into heaven. Perhaps that legend held a grain of truth. But as with the ancient one, Sue was an enigma for later. Albeit a much more attractive puzzle.

Rising, Hux strode to the equipment wall, donning a lightly armored jacket and a pair of goggles, though he kept those on top of his head. For Hux, any protective clothing was a backup plan at best. He had his own armor.

With a flex of his clawed hand, he called that armor, and was covered in darkness. In his armor, he appeared less a man and more a man-shaped hole in the world, so black as to look unreal. Only two red eyes, now faintly glowing, peered out of the darkness. The goggles atop his head looked faintly like the nubs of horns, adding to the unnerving effect.

"To battle." Hux said simply, and strode with purpose through the door.

Old Man Elijah

Elijah merely glanced sideways at the protective gear being offered, before bony plates forced themselves out from under his skin to cover him in a sort of makeshift biological armor. Any other kind of armor would reduce his ability to absorb biomass from his opponents, so he rejected what was on display in favor of what his own abilities granted him. Cracking his neck, he drew Severance slightly from its sheath as the B-SHRIKEs landed, and flexed the bony claws on his hands that were now present.

The air crackled slightly around Elijah as the red markings on his hands began to glow brighter and the man himself began radiating sheer killing intent and significant menace—more so than the off-putting aura that he usually gave off, anyways. His protective tattoos seemed to smoke but ultimately fail in containing whatever unholy power this was.

"Let's get this over with," he grumbled. "I don't want to be reminded of 9/11 any more than I have to be. Unless we're not anywhere near what used to be the Twin Towers right now. I don't think we are...?"

Edited by JumpingFruit on Oct 27th 2020 at 11:48:58 AM

Sue

"And who said they were just? Cuz it sure wasn't you. Or me. I mean, for all we know, all these dumbass rules were cooked up by some asshole with an agenda. Wouldn't be the first time.

Sue hopped to her feet as the shuttle landed. She cricked her neck, stretching her legs and gyrating her shoulders as she beefed herself up. She didn't need fancy armour or anything, but a bit more muscle wouldn't hurt.

Though she'd feel better if she had her staff.

Still wasn't sure where it'd gone off to.

...maybe she shoved it up the Statue of Liberty?

Nah.

Too stupid even for her.

Edited by kkhohoho on Oct 27th 2020 at 3:00:28 AM

The Ashlands

"What's a 9/11?" Zhane momentarily pondered, before shrugging and continuing on.

After slipping on his visor and protective gear, Zhane stepped outside and started looking around. He tapped a few buttons on his multi-purpose tool and numerous spell circles depicting numerological symbols and concepts formed in front of him. Calling forth what looked like a four winged drone - each wing with a stream of magical energy emerging from the ends. A red eye at the front.

"Greetings, Master Zhane. Mission parameters due to begin?"

"Indeed. Off we go, 33J." With that, Zhane stepped on the back of the odd drone and took off flying on its "back".

As the HEROES entered the Ashlands to begin their mission, it was obvious their landing had not gone unnoticed. Before long there were noises akin to something scaling the tower...and then one after another, orb-faced machines with what looked like a visor at the middle of their head with a red vacillating line at the middle entered the scene. Each one armed with a mounted rifle and sabre attached to its little rudimentary arms, the legs being nothing more than tank treads.

The Machines had arrived.

Old Man Elijah

Elijah clicked his tongue mockingly at the Machines, beckoning them to come closer even as he drew his sword and turned up his fear-inducing ability even more, which would cause the Machines' view to turn staticky if they looked directly at Elijah and cause anomalous warning signs to appear on their HUDs if they possessed such things.

Indeed, if one of the Machines was strong enough to overcome the effects and approach, Elijah would attempt to chop off one of its arms with his sword, Severance, and ram it right into its core.

Edited by JumpingFruit on Oct 27th 2020 at 11:08:44 AM

Bea didn't really have much in her assigned compartment, she already wore most of her combat gear on her person for most of the flight just in case there would be no time to equip herself. The only thing she did take and put on was a sturdy combat helmet with a face plate; it wasn't particularly heroic but Bea considered that the Machines and Shadows wouldn't care.

As the team encountered their first group of Machines, Bea actually did not take the first move. She tended to let her enemies strike first, for doing otherwise might be taken as unheroic bloodthirst.

Sue

Sue didn't waste a moment. She stretched our her arms, turning her hands into large, sharp blades as she swung them through the machines like a pair of scythe. If they hit, they would cleave through them like butter.