Welcome to the Sector

(All Vigilantes, you are to participate in this event. This is a story arc event thus highly important for the advancement of the story. Participating will yield rewards. Everybody's first post is just a retelling of what happened from their point of view. Then when all participants have posted the fighting will begin. Give us your best, the best gain the greatest prizes.)


In the dead of a usually cold and dark night. Unwillfull citizens of the Sector are sleeping with one eye open and a large gun under their pillows. Under the veil of night true paranoia shows itself as each and every person inside this place is just as a capable killing machine as the next. They fear each other with reason, yet from some there is no defending yourself from or preparing even. Many footsteps echo through the halls and staircases of Virgil Mall, the large and cluttered steps seem disoriented and not sure where their heading should be. Several meters of concrete below them exhaust fumes fill the underground garage. Upon opening the stairwell door a series of strong lights blind the runners and they realize the humming racket are the vehicles having their engines turned on. Several fully dressed and capable men with orange bands on their forearms are shoving the confused others into the vehicles. Many head into the fully fortified, spray-painted orange school bus. Windows of all the vehicles are boarded up with metal plates of varying sizes and types. The rest of the Vigilantes fleet is made of a dune buggy, an old Mustang, a Range Rover, a station wagon and a few other sedans. As soon as each rounded up Vigilante was inside one of the vehicles the team leaders returned to their driver seats. Lights inside the vehicles illuminate the faces of those inside and only then they notice that next to each seat is a batch of weapons, next to some even a protective jacket against firearm fire.

Metal starts rolling and the steel garage gate slowly goes up as the headlights of each vehicle spread out onto the ramp going up onto the street through the small cracks of the rising door and finally under it. With a click the steel gate reaches the top and snaps into a secure place. That was the "Go!" sign for the drivers. In turns they push the pedal to the metal and leave rubber on the asphalt as they leave their sanctuary. Engines roar through the serenely silent streets and reach the bottleneck of Northside. Parking, creating a perimeter and pointing their guns to town means the Vigilantes are ready to perform their designated duty. Now they wait.

Dragged out of a nap, still sore from his fight the day he made it to the mall, and quite bad with waking up quickly, this whole bustle did no justice to impress Koumaru. He hadn't quite learned that paranoia factor yet, but it would come, eventually, perhaps. He shuffled along at as great a pace as he could manage, surrounded by people most often shorter than himself.

He was pushed to the large orange bus, and happily made the long march to the seat closest to the front that was unoccupied. He was soon joined by a man who's face and name he couldn't remember for more than the instant he looked at him, so he made conversation and waited for the destination to be reached.

Upon reaching destination, he didn't ask where they were, he simply slipped off the bus as quickly as he could manage, and waited just next to the door. He looked at the guns being passed around, and felt a pang of... was that jealousy?

Silly electric eel can't use guns, because of the ridiculous lack of directionality his powers have- His entire body lights up like a candle, when he starts "volting" and that tends to have nasty side effects with things like gun powder. At least, theoretically it does. There was no point in blowing off his fingers to prove himself wrong. He was never much good at personal thought, never a great long-term thinker, in hectic situations.

He sat back, and waited for some instruction, watching quietly, letting his unusual perceptions watch the shadows, the dark corners. He may not be able to shoot anything, but things sure did a good job of standing out for him. If nothing more, he'd make a brilliant figurehead leader- A man not getting his hands dirty, instead doing the best he could to guide the hand of those willing to spill blood.

ooc: sorry im late. can i use the sling i fashioned for myself from items at the clothing store for my sword?

Grabbing her katana, 9 mil with extra clip, and switchblade after donning her corset, Noctem headed to place mentioned in her summons orders all the vigilantes had received. Upon showing up, she saw many vehicles both armored and non-armored. she followed the crowd which seemed to be loading the bus first. not fully sure why she was there, but fully ready to follow orders without hesitation, she sat and waited.

(Lol well only two V.V.'s will hardly do! So here I am =D And long as this doesn't suddenly die off i'll stick with it O_o specially since it's major and all.)

Sitting atop his worn weathered chair, Crimson regarded the sudden activity around him with interest. Since he had arrived here he had been unable to sleep at night, often attempting to only to awaken an hour later, full transformed into his fox body, alert and wide awake. Night was a time it seemed most in the sector disliked, making it quite…boring to be stuck awake all night long. This night however it seemed something was happening, something interesting, exciting, and right up Crimson’s Alley.

For the moment however, he was content to watch, mouth parted in what could only be interpreted as a grin as countless men were dragged from their beds, to some unknown location.

As one of these figures approached Crimson he simply snarled, fangs bared for a moment before rising, leaping gracefully from his couch, shifting in mid air to land, fully clothed in a crouch beside the man. Without a word he straightened, following the mob of helpless gang members, towards their mystery destination.

”Oh a road trip! How exciting!” Crimson mused, moving to the nearest vehicle, a station wagon. Snatching up three knives from the stack near him, and beginning to juggle them, ignoring the glares from the man beside him, as one knife was flung to the side, digging deep into the seat beside them. Well I guess its better safe then sorry…he thought to himself, retrieving the fallen knife from the seat with a tug, whilst simultaneously silencing the powers of the somewhat disgruntled man beside him.

When there convoy finally arrived, Crimson stumbled out of his vehicle, fumbling with the three knives he’d picked up, suddenly realising he didn’t exactly know why they were here, or more importantly, where on his person he would keep these three knives. Shrugging once more Crimson tossed one knife randomly over his shoulder, wandering off now, humming happily to himself, oblivious to the cries and curses behind him.

Sounds of gunfire and commotion start to come from behind them, both left and right. Shadow climbs up on the bus and speaks the first words of the night.

"The sounds you hear are the Goths and Polecats fighting their own battles and spilling their own blood. We are here to stop anyone willing to aid the enemy from reaching the battlefield. Take defensive positions and shoot on sight!"

Vigilantes start to scramble, running for cover, inside the local buildings, behind Barrier mutants and wait for the expected enemy to arrive. In a short few minutes the first bullet is fired and the two sides start exchanging anything they can throw or fire. Anything deadly or harmful makes its way to the other side of the street where the other side is doing the same. An invisible man gets shot while trying to reach the Vigilante blockade and another one exchanges his life for one of our own as he switches with him but fails to switch back.

(You cannot godmod here. Mods determine the outcomes of your actions.)

"Oh, goody, we get to make sure that the battles of others' go the way they're supposed to. Quite fun that is..." He'd made a quick break to the forward most position he could manage, hiding away in a shadow, lurking.

He was nervous. He was edgy. This was something different. He saw every outline of every little source of heat, brighter than the rest of the darkness. he watched a cat scamper along in the darkest shadows across the street. Infrared vision, is what the Viper Pits gave him. This is how his brain telegraphed it, as an alternative light source. He decided that his brain had made a pretty good choice with that one. It sharpened his eyes, making them as good in the situation as his ears. But, everything has drawbacks.

As the first shot was fired, he continued to wait. He would wait until they had slipped into the bottleneck before he made his move. He was a switcher. He would slip in among them, and he'd stun one, and burn his way through their numbers from the center with their own weaponry. He was Cannon Fodder, this is what he LIVED for. And, that was the plan. He'd wait, and then jump right into the middle of them and disrupt them, start then firing on each other. Make things more barrel-like for the Vigilantes.

Slipping behind a barrier, Noctem slips her head around the corner of it peering into the warzone. Noticing things are as they are supposed to be, she turns her attention back to keeping unwanted enemy forces from other alignments from entering the battlefield. Noctem continues to alternate between keeping an eye on the two different situations

"Oh bravo, what a wonderful little speech..." Crimson murmured to himself, veering into his Vulpine form as he turned towards the front lines. Shaking his rich crimson hued pelt shining in the light of the moon.

Rushing to the front lines he quickly turned, moving into a side building. His vulpine senses listening intently for anyone within the building,he began to head for the roof. Assuming he met no resisitance he would attempt to leap across a rooftop or two, in order to give himself a better attack position on their foes.

His immediate goal once on the nearest roof possible would be to observe. If any of their people seemed to be using their powers to devastate the vigilantes then he would silence their powers. If there was no one overwhelming the lines he would use his position to fire blood shards down on his foes, at an angle they hopefully weren't shielding against.

And just the thing he needed happens, the wall next to him gets riddled with bullets from an unknown source. The firing is so intense Koumaru can't even take the slightest peek round the corner.

Back on the middle of the battlefield Noctem gets to see a dose of the horror of combat as a ball of acid hits the side of one of her comrades quickly eating up his flesh leaving nothing but bone on most of the right side of his torso. The battle seems to be going more into melee now as fighters from both sides are leaving cover and going head to head against each other.

Crimson stays on the roof observing the enemy and silencing a power here and there, getting lucky a few times when an opponent was in for a nasty surprise as their finishing blow didn't seem to work. Though, it seems he was spotted as few people point in his direction and then disappear from sight.

(I had a better idea for a character while I was grounded and even wrote up a character sheet, plus he's more suited to my RP combat style and I believe he's fair, if Gabriel is still considered as such. Also what weapons do we have?)

Gabriel got the message, but the vehecle had run ito a slight amount of trouble making him late to the event. Still he wasted no time in grabbing the guns and phasing through the car door with the weapons in hand.

"Sorry, I'm late. I'm here, now though." His Thermal vision was active and a pistol was in hand. So what're we dealing with? Not that it matters."

His mind was pushing at any possible enemy, attempting to gain some insight of a battle plan. Hello boys. Gabriel thought. He'd see the enemies in front, though his sixth sense was useless. This was a battlefield, danger permeated every inch of it.

You're a soldier, don't think, especially if any are more accomplished telepaths than yourself. This was the last thing that went through Gabriel's mind, only his active powers were in there. Bringing up a knife, Gabriel's body faded into the night as he became invisble. With a last look at his fellows, Gabriel resigned himself to his fate. He could not live to see bloodshed at a distance and if he couldn't live, well, he'd take as many enemies with him as possible.

Using his agility, Gabriel leapt off one leg. He repeated the process and soon had a makeshift form, yet very tiring, of running. He lunged at the first enemy he came to, aiming for where he thought the center of the chest was.

Koumaru was pinned down real nicely. Pathetic that he wasn't afraid of death nor bullets but still cowering from them. Especially because he'd take some hits before hiding, in this situation.

Death seeker. That's what he was. He was insane. He didn't like it here. He didn't want to be here. ALL he WANTED was some ETERNAL BLACKNESS.

He'd dive out of cover and proceed as planned anyway, even if it left him swiss cheese dead. He'd probably die. He was okay with that. He was useless anyway.

Gabriel makes a dash, or something close to that, and attempted to stab the nearest opponent. All of this is happening on the middle of the street as this is where the fight has moved, there are no more sniping attempts or hiding, it's all out now, all versus all. Gabriel lunges forward in an attempt to stab a man in front of him when his knife is stopped by a block of ice which encases it and starts crawling up his arm locking Gabriel in place. Gabriel struggles to break free and the man even helps him by pushing him away and punching him clear across the face. The push back breaks the block of ice approaching him but at a great price, the way below freezing temperature affected his hand and it broke off he broke free. He felt no pain as the nerves were long dead and incapable of carrying the signals to his brain. Instinctively Gabriel flapped his wings and at that exact moment the ice wielding man prepared an uppercut aimed at his chest and formed an insanely sharp ice shard coming from his hand. The ice goes straight through Gabriel, piercing his internal organs like a hot needle goes through wax. The intestines are shredded and start falling out, the liver bursts as the shard cuts it on its way through, it breaks through on the other side passing the spine by an inch. He is lifted into the air, impaled by the iceman. On the brink of death he last sees the man grinning but suddenly stopping as a bullet passes through his head. The ice shard spreads like wildfire onto Gabriel and the man, leaving them in place as a pair of ice statues. One has his hand stretches up in the air and the other is impaled by his hand with his angel like wings stretched. Blood from his head wound spills out onto the ice which freezes it making his head seem red and even accidentally making two small ice horns. Gabriel sees this all blurry through the ice barrier on him as his body freezes too and he shuts down for the rest of eternity.

Koumaru darts out of cover passing a fallen angel impaled by a red headed ice statue. He successfully dodges bullets and switches with a suitable target in the midst of the enemy. Taking them by surprise he takes advantage of that and grabs a gun from someone's holster and fires a few bullets in that same person. Using his enhanced reflexes and time lapsing powers and gravity changing techniques he manages to throw them off guard and escapes most deadly sword and knife swings as well as a few gun shots. He returns a few favors and puts a cap or two in a few enemies. Taking an SMG he starts spraying hell and making his way out of the fray when just as he was on the middle of the field a bullet shoots through his stomach. Blood burst out before simply oozing. The heavily wounded Koumaru slowly goes to the frontlines of his team as he is out of bullets and his powers are still not renewed. A few steps more and two more bullets pass through him with ease, his chest is bleeding. The intense pain is enough to cause fainting, to black out the ordinary person, but something makes him push on, he continues walking. More bullets pass through him. his legs, arms, chest, one even grazes his neck and cheek. Then a final 13th bullet passes through the heart, in slow motion and almost completely losing his hearing he falls to the ground in a pool of his own blood. All the sounds and cries of battle are muffled out by his own heavy breathing. The pain is gone, his brain is overloaded from the intensity. Lying there, fully conscious he spends the final seconds reliving his life as his brain slowly shuts down his body, one part after another. Blood cannot flow through him anymore, he cannot take in air, he has no more energy to use. His eyes close as the brain pulls the plug.

Only two of lives of many lost on both sides.