Heroes: Eve of Destiny

[frigidmagi]

"Not all missions involve violence. Statistics for this district not yet calculated to acceptable tolerances. Given current situation, expect to face combat with almost certain probabilities on following and subsequent missions." He glanced over to Blast in the shotgun position. "It goes down a hill from there. Then it ends."

"You're a glass half empty kinda of guy aren't you? I mean, we haven't even seen the road ahead and you're declaring it downhill. Course when it's downhill at least you go faster right?" Blast shot back.

[Hotfoot]

"This is the easiest mission you are likely to be assigned. Given current situation, missions will become more violent and dangerous. Stakes will rise. People will die. That is what has happened, that is what will happen. Be glad you have the power to do what you can to save people. Use it to help. Use it to stop those who don't help." He paused for a moment, driving in silence. "I am not usually assigned to train new agents."

[frigidmagi]

"I am not usually assigned to train new agents."

"No worries, there's nothing saying you will be." Blast replied. How did the cyborg get such a preacher streak in him?

[Agent Fisher]

Niner just listened.

Ok, not Robocop

"Are we there yet?"

[Shark Bait]

Niner just listened.

Ok, not Robocop

"Are we there yet?"

Seven leaned over to look at Niner, "You know my dad once took out my sound card for asking that one to many times, there is probably no worse thing you can say to a driver."

[Comrade Tortoise]

Avatar arrieved at headquarters fairly quickly. He had jumpted into the hudson and circumnavigated most traffic, only requiring a small amount of wind-sailing in order to reach his destination.

[Hotfoot]

"We are approaching home office and will arrive shortly. Upon arrival, subjects will be processed accordingly." After a few more minutes, the federal building came into view. Mark 25 pulled in to the parking garage , where the car was met with a security team, an escort. While most of the subjects had come quietly, one had to be subdued, and that warrented additional protection, just in case.

[Shark Bait]

Seven was escorted to a holding cell where he was told he would wait untill he could be processed, he just sat there quietly continuing his work on a computer model of everything that had happend yesterday. He would play nice and answer any and all questions politely, with a little bit of luck he might mannage to come out on top of this situation.

[Dark Silver]

Saibot had taken to the air, along with his restrained prisoner, and flew back to the agency's building. He set down and walked through the door, the unconcious man suspended in a energy bubble.

He took the man straight to processing.

[Agent Fisher]

Niner stepped out of the car and strechted once again.

He looked around and noticed the guards starting to circle him. He raised his arms and tail and followed the guards to a cell. He was placed inside and then he waited.

After he had been sitting there for a while, he heaved a sigh.

"Yep, this is going well."

[frigidmagi]

Blast turned to the driver as Niner was led off.

"Well that went well, I'm thristy, you want a drink or something man?" He asked.

[Hotfoot]

Mark 25 turned to Blast and tilted his head slightly as the recruit asked his question. For a moment, there is an uncomfortable silence as the cyborg looked down at the young man. "That is possible. Follow me to the cafeteria."

[frigidmagi]

"Alright." Blast answered with a shrug.

[Hotfoot]

Mark 25 navigates through the hallways of the agency with practiced precision. Shortly, they arrive at the cafeteria, and Mark 25 motions to one of the staff, who smiles and waves. "Hey, Mark-babe, good to see you again! Hold on, I got that stuff you like in the back. And who's this, yer new partner? Hey kiddo, whaddya want?" The man behind the counter was well into middle age, a bald spot slowly dominating his head under his hairnet. Mark 25 remained silent through the exchange.

[frigidmagi]

Blast peered over the counter looking around.

"I'll take the chicken please." He said.

[Hotfoot]

"Sure thing kid, one clucker coming up." The older man started portioning out the food, making sure to be generous with the portions, he'd been around long enough to know metas tended towards big appetites. He slides the plate towards Blast as his assistant comes back from the rear holding two bottles, one filled with a thick liquid, the other filled with a paste. The old man took them, flipped them in the air, then snapped them at Mark 25 as they came into his waiting hands. The large cyborg deftly caught a bottle in each hand.

"Twenty seven full rotations each. Acceptable mixture. Thank you, Thomas."

"Only twenty seven? Hoo, I must be slipping. Both of you have a good meal now. Good to see you again Mark." He nodded to Blast with a smile. "Now you keep the big guy out of trouble, hear me? We got some catching up to do once this whole kidnapping mess is worked out."

Mark had already started moving towards a table in the corner of the cafeteria, facing the walls.

[frigidmagi]

Blast followed carrying his tray in one hand, looking about the room. He was going to have to roll up his mask. Should he even keep the mask? Most of the agents seem to go without one. Ah, fuck it, safer to keep in the habit of hiding his face. He sniffed where had he smelled that before?

"Is that... Babyfood?" He asked.

[Hotfoot]

"It has many similar qualities." Mark 25 sat down, putting the bottles on the table. He reached up to his helmet and several clasps opened at once with a sharp hissing noise. Gently, he removed the faceplate to the helmet and rotated it above his head, revealing a mass of flesh and metal.

It was clear whoever did the work on Mark 25's body did not care about appearances. His eyes were simply gone, replaced with cybernetics, parts of his skull were removed to make room for the metal that invaded his flesh. Even his jaw was largely replaced by metal, and what little remained contained no teeth. The little flesh that was left was horrifically scarred. No eyes, no eyebrows, no lips to speak of, even his nose was gone, with hoses coming out of the cavity that remained, leading back to another part of the helmet out of sight. The bottles had large straws attached to the sides, which he used to suck the food and drink through.

[frigidmagi]

So... He had been human... Once upon a time. Blast just barely managed to avoid flinching but it was a close thing. It was worse than anything at the VA hospital honestly, alot worse.

"Whoa... Who... What did that to you?" he asked in a strangled voice. It was like seeing some Nazi experiment, you just knew whoever did it was evil to the core.

[Hotfoot]

Mark 25's voice came dispite the fact that he was slurping down the contents of his bottles, only this time there was a strange sound alongside. "Illegal cybernetic experiments by rogue metahuman agent. Subject number twenty-five in an attempt to enhance and control existing metahumans. Information beyond that considered classified for eyes only in Federal Database. Your clearance should give you access if you want to know more."

[frigidmagi]

"I see... Would you prefer I did not look?" Blast asked. He rolled up his mask so that his mouth was exposed in a triangle of expose flesh with the point being his nose down to his jaw line. He began to cut the chicken into smaller bites. He could eat looking at Mark he decided, if he puked later, well so be it. It would keep his weight down.

[Hotfoot]

"It is your decision. This unit does not have a preferance." Finally, the bottles were nearly empty. "Why do you wear your mask, Recruit Blast?"

[frigidmagi]

"It is your decision. This unit does not have a preferance." Finally, the bottles were nearly empty. "Why do you wear your mask, Recruit Blast?"

"Oh, well it's very comfortable. I think we'll all be wearing them before to long really. Besides isn't it traditional? You know roof top crusaders for good in mask and colorful underwear? I wouldn't wear a cape and I'm all in black so I had to respect tradition somehow. Seriously however, I have reasons enough to prefer that just who I am be has hard to figure out for the other side as possible. I'm not the only one I would be putting at risk if I went completely public." Blast said guesturing with his fork.

[Hotfoot]

"Understood. Recommend seeking Agency-made mask material and designs to increase security and functionality." His meal finally done, Mark 25 lowers his faceplate again, sliding it over his disfigured face. With a cold snap, it locks back into place, sealing away the lifeless skin and metal behind a gleaming, nearly featureless mask.

[Cynical Cat]

"Mind if I join you?" Blackheart said, a tray with a plate full of pasta and another full of vegetables in his hands.