darkSpyro

The flames of the building were beginning to disappear, the efforts of the local fire department beginning to show merit. Those inside, be them heroic, villainous, or merely an unlucky third-party would likely be able to notice a difference. The heat was slowly fading, though still warm by all means. The smoke was beginning to deplete, clouds of it thinning out slowly, but surely.



Westley was now fully disconnected from the crowds, sighing in relief at the newfound silence as he sauntered down a street. Where to go wasn't important, long as it was away from people and their tales of heroes and villains. He was bored of it. Part of him wanted the silence and peace of nothing.

"Well, thank you for the elderly assistance, but I'm just fine." Ned grumbled, but couldn't really do anything about it. "What, we're going down a dark alleyway? Are you sure this isn't a kidnapping? Hey short-stop. Do you know what's going on?" Ned called to Creation.

ooc: sorry for the late reply. finals

ooc: It's understandable dude. No worries.
--

Creation's eye twitched at the Ned's comment, but she remained composed. "The building exploded. Beyond that I don't know. Come on, we'll get you to safety." She said as she held out her hand. Her crowbar dematerialized and her gas mask rematerialized. Handing it to Ned she started off down the hallway. "Put that on and let's go."

OOC:Sorry, I've been gone for a bit

OOC: I'm going to attempt to bring this back. I like this concept, and I haven't even made an actual post here.


Several stories overhead, on top of a building a few blocks away, a tall, avian figure was watching the aftermath of the terrorist attack. She paced, mechanical claws clicking, in deep thought and frustration. She had covered enough ground to get a good view of the crime scene just before the first superheroes arrived. It made her angry.

Everywhere I go, these young people always swarm to the point of action. There's no room for anyone experienced, anyone who deserves to be part of things, she thought bitterly, glowering under her helmet as she strode along. This had been the fourth incident in two days where there wasn't a single veteran to be seen. But it wasn't the heroes that irked her so. It was that villainess with the grid-patterned suit. How did she have access to such technology? She couldn't have been older than eighteen. There was no way that she could have invented that morphing device at such a young age. Could she?

The possibility of that only added kindle to the fire. She, Lillian Lockheart, had put countless hours and sleepless nights into her work. Many personal endeavors were lost trying to juggle her double life. Finding the time to develop both departments had proven to be the most difficult task she had ever experienced. It had taken her years to get a handle on the technology she utilized, and many years more to perfect it into something dependable for the nature of her crimes. And to see that these... children have achieved more on a technological level than her, in just the time of their short, feeble lives...

She moaned in exasperation, stomping her foot once she stopped pacing. Her red and orange feathers seemed to ruffle, jostled by the impact. Now that she was still, she continued to contemplate something further. Figuring that it wouldn't be wise for a villain in full costume to be openly near a crime scene, she darted in a different direction and glided towards another building. Dwelling on frustrating matters wouldn't do her any good. She will simply have to find another opportunity to indulge in villainous tomfoolery, and hopefully the next incident will draw in people of her level.

Talia, having calmed down and in normal cloths, was at her house, "so Mutant's not that big of a threat after all." She recalled every known hero she could think of, and due to the fact that the microchip records everything and stores it, there was no error in how she remembered it, but there may be error in the way the news portrayed the heroes "there's this new Hero rising, power unknown but nothing to big has been performed yet. There's Creation, kid Super Hero with the ability to create anything she wants. The creations always look cartoony, whether or not she can make them look real is unknown, also is either unwilling or unable to make more than one, probably the former due to it taking too much concentration. And then there's Shadowcat, invisibility, shadow projectiles, shadow weaponry, and shadow cats, highest threat level, also my next target., whenever she shows her face next."

Jonathan looked at the website, this'll be perfect. Some boe-staff training would really help him behind the mask. And his next paycheck would just about cover the cost to go into this program, they meet every Wednesday and Friday, so he'll just have to stay alive till then.

((OOC: I understand people get busy. You guys just hop back in at your own pace))

Westley was glad to be walking down a peaceful street, glad to be away from mumbling people, blaring sirens, and constant fretting. He walked down the street alone, his mind leaping from subject to subject. This recent attack would put his plans back a few steps. He couldn't act when heroes were on red alert. Now would be a foolish time to step out and make plans. That wasn't an immediate issue, though. If the heroes are focused on someone else, then I'll just use this time to develop my chemicals more, to try and create something even they will struggle with.

Westley was a realistic man. He knew not to seek too much, not to expect perfect and world domination on the first act. After all, he didn't even know what he would do with the world if he ever got control of it. He wouldn't even know what to do with the city. So for now, to pester the townspeople and make the heroes waste their time fruitlessly trying to stop his plans was an entertaining factor.

His steps were fairly loud as he walked, the peace of the surrounding area betraying that in the distance, chaos was still being brought to a standstill, quieted and stopped in its tracks. At this moment in time, there seemed to be nobody else actively nearby, but he was always on alert. It was silly, though. Why am I worrying? Heroes aren't going to bother me when I'm dressed like this. I'm just a citizen to them, the person they're supposed to be protecting. I guess a villain could try and jump me, but it might be fun to play their games for a while. Westley had never been jumped by another villain before, though he was aware that it was a real possibility, given he was pretending to be a civilian. He had a plan if that happened. Play along, pretend like it's a partial concern, wait for the heroes to bother. They would come eventually and little old Westley could just saunter off like nothing had ever happened. Not that he was hoping a villain would bother trying to capture him. Why hostage the local pharmacist? That sounded more like something he would do, if he weren't already the one in that job position, that is.

(OOC: HOLY CRAP, I HAVEN'T BEEN HERE SINCE THE BEGINNING OF DECEMBER)

Carlton, noticed it was almost midnight, he went to his closet, and got out a black, grim reaper-like costume

"Time to put this on again" Carlton said, smiling

OOC: I don't want this one to die, mostly because it's awesome and there are some things that I want to happen. And is it OK if I introduce a hero just to kill him off? Kind of like what dragon-outcast did with the lawyer guy?

Talia looked outside. It was dark, and her parents were asleep, but even if they weren't, they still wouldn't care if she left. When the suns away, the Cat will play. Along with other heroes. She put on her costume, hoping that if she didn't find Shadow cat, she would at least find one hero. And then she went outside, and proceed to walk down the streets, looking for someone to pray on.

Jonathan looked at his watch and, seeing as it was midnight, instinctively opened his hidden box with his costume and hesitated. He deployed his wings. They had bruises all over them and part of the left one was torn. He couldn't risk a confrontation with anyone except a healer. And that was pretty unlikely. He closed the box, retracted the bat wings, and decided to just go to bed.

((OOC: Yeah, I was hoping to keep this alive too. I'll try to set the scene more often. As long as the character you're killing off is of YOUR creation, that's fine. Also, are we timeskipping the rest of the day? Because if we are, we should all be in agreement with such a jump before it happens))

OOC: Well King-Pen Krazy time skipped so I just followed suit

((OOC: I'll allow it this time, but next time I would just appreciate if it was discussed with me before a timeskip is suddenly put into play. I'm sure you understand))

Despite the chaos that had ensued during the day, the flames of that very chaos had been quelled, and the rest of the day passed in a rather peaceful manner. It was as if the city itself simply adapted to it's own chaos and warped the day to exist around it. The night had fallen, speckled stars dancing in the sky and declaring their presense to the world, and that was when the true nature of the city would be revealed. Villains came to life during the night, and the heroes would hopefully not be too tired from day time actions to keep a close eye on the nasty inhabitants of the night.

~~~

Westley found peace in the darkness of the night. His eyes gazed to the stars as he sauntered down the street once again. It fondly reminded him of earlier in the morning, before he had gone off to work, that was. Work had felt so meaningless, but at least it has passed in a decent time. There had been no issues, the customers were passive and obedient - funny words to describe people shopping, that is - and the day had simply allowed Westley to pass through it without being troubled. And now? Now was the time he could play. Yet, he didn't feel it. Something was pestering him, arguing to him that he should not trouble himself at this moment. He took a moment to pause, staring at his own house as he came to a halt in front of it. The cool breeze brushed softly against him, offering a friendly hand to a troubled mind.

I can at least observe. Westley began to move into his home, and it seemed like he would not come out. To most eyes, he entered his house and settled in for the night, but should one have been very closely watching the man, they would have noticed a figure donned in a flashy outfit skittering away from the home. What are we up to tonight, darlings? Don't think it, say it. "What ever are we doing tonight? What have you prancing fools got for me?" Tonight, he would see what the other villains of the city were up to, and he would act accordingly.

He hated when his plans clashed with other villains, after all. So if one was being rowdy, he found it best to keep himself quiet. If they were timid, he might step up. Of course, he loved the attention, so if what the other villains were up to was entertaining, well, then he might have to make himself a playing card in their deck. His eyes scanned the night from where he stood in the darkness, and he waited for signs of life to come crawling to him. Somehow, they always did.

OOC: I feel so bad for abandoning this, it doesn't deserve to die, AHHHHG! I'm going to try everything I can to bring it back.


That night, after having attended to a few affairs that she had been neglecting earlier, Lillian was lurking under the cover of the shadows. Although, lurking wasn't a very accurate term in this case; while a mechanical, avian mech-suit naturally bore semblance to a stalking predator, she was really doing nothing more than wandering about aimlessly. This month had been very much an off-month for her alter-ego, Archeopteryx.

Lillian had virtually no time to make plans for the big heists and grande schemes she was so fond of playing out. In her personal life, her mother had been pressuring her to take on their family business all for herself, as she was ready to retire. She was having none of that... or at least, not all of it. There was no way she'd be taking full responsibility for their cosmetics establishment, as it would mean she'd have to put her side work to rest indefinitely. Her alternate life was the one that truly felt like her own, one that allowed her the freedom of expressing herself without the constraints of a legitimate business. Therefore, its longevity was her biggest priority.

However, for now, she could only wait for an opportunity frustrate the local citizens. Which, ironically, frustrated her. She wasn't the patient sort when it came to these things. The only thing that kept her happy was a consistent, near-constant influx of entertainment; the shocked and horrified bystanders, the disgruntled law enforcers, and the fury of those who had just been bested in some way, whether it be from playing keep-away or at their very own game.

Unfortunately, the streets were aggravatingly still and lifeless, save for a single voice in the darkness. Archeopteryx paused in her steps, turning towards the source. Under the light of the streetlamps, she could vaguely make out the figure. It was no one she recognized, and judging by the voice alone, sounded younger. "Oh, how wonderful. A clueless little neophyte, wanting to join the scene," she thought bitterly. "That optimism might hold him up for a little while, but it never keeps them afloat." Maybe she could test the morale of this novice. It wasn't like she had anything else to do. Besides, hassling other villains was always a favorite of hers, even if she had to settle for the inexperienced. They were somewhat predictable, though, always asserting their worthiness and insisting that they have what it takes to walk alongside the pros some day. She'd see if this man had anything new to offer.

Her predatory figure, now adorned with black feathers and two orange stripes running down the length of her back, stepped out of the immediate darkness. "Well, aren't you eager to join the fun. You're obviously new; no one just asks out of the blue what's happening in the limelight. Also, I would have seen an outfit that flashy from a mile away. Do you actually want people to catch you?" she mocked. She clicked her tongue, a sound that could have been comparable to a bird clicking its beak, and tilted her head. "Well, I'm not one to judge, see. I'm the same way. I'm sure you've heard of me, if you've done your research before thrusting yourself into plain sight like this," she continued in a less reprimanding tone, lifting her head up haughtily.

Ooc: accidentally posted on the wrong RP