Heroes: Shadows over Millenium

[Cynical Cat]

"Yeah, no bloodlust. Bullshit. Go see to the mighty demigod." He stood over Saibot and shook his head. "Fuck this." He picked up Saibot's ring. There was a hostile warmth to them, like they were fresh from the fire. "Another thing in the universe that doesn't love me. I think I'll survive the shock. Let's get this mess cleaned up."

[B4UTRUST]

Troll looked at Hotfoot and nodded. He made a couple of long jumps and ended up back in the hole. He glanced at Ghost and Freakshow, gave them a wave before he grabbed the stretcher and the medkit again.
"Just stopping through."

He took off through the door again and out into the hall. His footsteps echoed as he ran. People were moving everywhere now, evacuating where they could. He made it to the med bay where the injured were leaving. He glanced up at the roof and waited till two of the doctors had drug a man in a tub of ice out of the way. He jumped up and hit the roof, cracking it. He did it a second time and saw light. The third jump had him break through.

He found himself about thirty foot away from the pair. He rushed over and took Argent from Hotfoot. He laid her on the stretcher and began to strap her down as best he was able. Making sure the bandages were on tight he picked up the stretcher and cracled it in his arms, making Argent seem like a baby in comparison to his massive size.

He leapt back over to the hole he had made and set her down on the ground next do it. He likewise dropped down, dangling his feet over the edge. Lifting her up and holding her straight up he cradled her as best he could against him as he dropped down, his knees bending with the impact to absorb the shock.

He set her up on one of the tables and opened up the med kit. He pulled off the bandages and began to clean out the wound, noticing that the bleeding had stopped. He unstrapped her from the stretcher and put her legs up in a sling to elevate them.

He began to take her vitals and analyize the situation. Shock had set in as had unconciousness. Whether from shock or bloodloss was unknown at the moment. Bleeding had stopped but she still required stitches.

He began to treat her for shock, making sure her temperature didn't fluctuate too much.
"Girl, I hope you're well and truely out because this is gonna hurt like a bitch otherwise..."

Digging into his supplies he pulled out biodegradable medical thread and a sterile needle. Working quickly he began to suture her wound, drawing the muscles and skin back together to promote healing.
"You're lucky you stop bleeding so good. We're outta blood. Hate to have you bleed out from saving you."

He pumped her with some antibiotics and pain killers and did all he could for her. He transfered her to a gurney and strapped her legs and arms down so she wouldn't fall off.
"Take her out with the others. We'll get her to a real hospital as soon as we're clear. Move it people! Grab what supplies you can and lets get the hell out of here!"

A short male with tentacles for arms began to push the gurney following the line of people leaving. Troll grabbed what supplies he could and loaded up his med kit. It was a shame to leave so much stuff behind but those were the breaks. They could get more elsewhere, hopefully.
"Hey, Ultima, if you want to help grab supplies or a body and follow the line. There's a cross over that'll take us back to the mainland through one of the old maintenance tunnels."

[Hotfoot]

Hotfoot followed Troll back inside, feeling bad about the holes he didn't make. "I'll search the tunnels for anyone that got left behind, I'll bring them back here in case they're hurt. If anyone is missing someone, friend, family, let me know when I come back. Once I've gotten everyone who can still walk to the exit, we can talk about moving the wounded." He turned away to start combing the tunnels, then looked back. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry this happened. All of this." With that, he was off, running through the tunnels to find the stranded, the wounded, and bring them back.

[Agent Fisher]

Ghost nodded at Freakshow, grabbed the map, and headed out the door. He tapped on his comm. "In case anyone sitll cares about why the hell we came down here, Freakshow is evacing the base, and that means the people we wanted to get are going to slip out. I've got a map of the area."

[Dark Silver]

"Unit 0-2-9-Gamma is down. We lost bio-telemetry a few moments ago."

"Last known location?"

"Former Manhattan, elevation seems to indicate he was in the former subway system."

"Begins extradition procedures, I want his equipment. Proceed to his domicile and strip it clean, I want every trace of our technology and equipment removed."

"Understood sir. What about Ultima? They'll hardly give up his equipment easily."

"Handle it."

[Charon]

Legacies perked up as Ghost spoke into the comm. unit. "Affirmative Ghost, if there's a med team nearby tell them they have one more for pick up. Gravitas is in bad condition. Better yet, give us directions to a drop-off point."

[Agent Fisher]

Ghost grumbled, cussing. He turned his comm back on. "No, there isn't a med team nearby. There isn't a fucking drop-off point. No one seemed to want to get all the details planned out first. Fucking Saibot went off on his own, like a fucking idiot." He snapped. God damn, fucking solo idiots. Too used to doing things there own way and damn the rest.

[Hotfoot]

Hotfoot keyed his communicator as he handed a wounded child off to Troll. "Roger that, coming to you. We have a medic down here, and much as we might have our objectives to consider, he's willing to help. Besides, unless someone else grows teleporting powers, it's the best we're going to get. I can't hit top speed while carrying someone." By the time the message had finished playnig for the rest of the team, Hotfoot was with Blackheart, Blast, and the rest. He snapped out of his speed form and gently picked up the smaller man, doing his best not to aggrevate any of his injuries. He snapped his shield back up and was off in a trail of fire into the darkness. When he got back to Troll, he looked very serious as he came back out of his speed form to set him down. He might not have agreed with the way Gravitas did things, but he tried to do good here tonight. "This was the man that tried to solve this in everyone's best interests, not bloodlust. Please, do what you can."

And with that he was off again.

[Charon]

Legacies sighed some. "Keep your calm Ghost, you are about to enter a situation where your emotions will be used against you. Tell us your position and we will be there soon."

Saibot's dagger slid under Legacies suit, held there for now in safe keeping as he gently wrapped tentacles Saibot, craddling him gently in a caccoon. "We shall get these two to safety." With that Legacies dashed off in the blink of an eye, following in the footsteps of Hotfoot, keeping pace, barely, with the younger hero.

He came to a stop and looked at Troll. "He is in your care, we shall do what we can for yours." Legacies did not bolt off after Hotfoot though, prefering to wait for Ghost's response.

[SirNitram]

[Removed: No one pointed out Argent has been removed until just now.]

[Cynical Cat]

Blackheart's senses weren't any sharper than a humans, but for a human they were very good. Sharp hearing and eyesight allowed him to hunt for survivors, super strength allowed him to shift rubble and save them.

[Agent Fisher]

Ghost strode down the tunnels, following the map, heading for one of the locations marked on it.

"Whatever, Legacies. I'm inbound to one of the Freak's locations." He said his location. "Have fun getting here. The quickest route here, which I just passed on my left, is completely blocked."

He tapped his mic off and cloaked himself, raising his rifle and edging forward, towards the dwelling of the Freak.

[Charon]

Legacies placed Saibot down and followed Ghost's instructions. Coming to the blocked off tunnel. The silver figure looked at the rocks of the tunnel for a few moments before tendrils flashed out, shattering boulders and shoving them to the side, digging through the collapsed tunnel quickly.

[Cynical Cat]

Blackheart watched Legacies dig. The meta was a lot stronger than he was and had more limbs to boot. He was flying through the rubble. "This is Blackheart," he said through the calm. "I need medical, rescue and metacontainment personnel down here. Most of the people trapped are probably innocent, but we may have some real nasty sons of bitches down here as well."

[Cynical Cat]

"Blast, how are you?" asked Blackheart.

[frigidmagi]

"I'm confused, I'm irratated and I'm glowing because I've absorbed alot more energy then normal. Saibot threw me and Hotfoot caught me. That plasma shield thingy has a shitload of energy and I ended up with more then my fair share. What ya need me to do boss?" Blast replied.

[Cynical Cat]

"I could use some selective rubble moving-slash-demolition where I am," said Blackheart. "You up for that?"

[frigidmagi]

"I can try. Point it out to me and I'll give it my shot. Nothing to selective though I can't guantnee that much fine control." Blaast said.

[Cynical Cat]

"There, there, and there," said Blackheart pointing. "Be careful with the last. Wouldn't want to singe Legacies."

[B4UTRUST]

When ghost reached the lair of the Freaks he was after he found his path barred by a door. At first glance, he may very well have thought he was hallucinating or imagining what he saw.

The door was hung in the frame and was writhing. A contorted stretched face was visable in the pale, almost albino skintone of the individual. It appeared to be screaming though no sound was heard. It had been clearly male though its genitalia was missing and had been replaced with a single doorknob. The idea of where the knob was on the other side didn't strike comfort into one either.

The door swung open at Ghost's approach. Inside was more of the same nightmare. Chairs and tables crafted from bone and the still living flesh of what was once people.

The Freak behind it was monsterous indeed. Its face appeared almost like a patchwork doll, different skins sewn together and merged to its body in new living flesh. The flesh seemed to flow smoothly from one skintone tot he next with no lines of scaring to show the difference.

It was currently at work on what could be described as an foot stool. It ran its hands down the arms of its victim, shifting the bone structure. The arms went straight back and then bent at the elbow, unmoving as the joint had fused together. The legs were seemingly melted into one piece and the lower legs bent in unnatural angles to serve as feet for this abomination. The bones were molded seamlessly and naturally like they should have been that way, though locked permanently as they now where. The victim would spend the rest of its days in this final position, living furniture for the horrible mine that worked them.

He turned his attention to the door, staring expectantly.

[Agent Fisher]

Ghost stared into the one of the most disturbing things he had ever seen. His mind largely shut down, blocking this out to save his sanity. He calmly, almost robotical, raised his rifle, leveled it the Freak, and squeezed the trigger, firing into the nightmare that was the room.

As Ghost fired, he reached into a pocket on his vest and pulled out a frag grenade, preparing to toss it in. He spoke into his comm, his gunfire clearly being heard in the transmission. "This is Ghost, I need help."

[Cynical Cat]

"Help is on its way," said Blackheart. To the rest of the team present he said, "Ghost just bit off more than he can chew. Hotfoot, Blast go back him up. We'll be standing by. Call us if you need us."

[frigidmagi]

"Right, Hotfoot if you can hear me this is Blast, Ghost is calling for back up, let's go!" Blast said into his radio has he ran towards Ghost's last known position.

[B4UTRUST]

Ghost fired into the Freak. Round after round slammed into the Freak with deadly velocity. And the Freak fell back with each impact until he went down.

Blood gurgled from the wounds in his chest and head, the flesh bored away in a second. Multiple holes dotted his chest and face, a testament to the precision of government training.

And the Freak continued to breathe. The Freak snarled, revealing teeth capable of rending flesh from bone. He pushed himself to his feet. As he righted himself each bullet fell with a dull wet thud to the floor. Behind the blood that flowed from the wounds, the dull white of bone was visable, untouched by the bullets they deflected.

The Freak touched one of his living chairs and it rightet itself, bones melting and solidfying again. A scream burst forth from the abused flesh, wracked with pain. The body moved in front of the Freak, a meatshield to stop the rounds.

The living shield advanced on the doorway, each step accompanied by the crisp snapping of bones as joints were created, mended, and removed to faciliate the action.

[Agent Fisher]

Ghost emptied the clip on his rifle and began working the under slung shotgun attached to it. He brought the grenade to his other hand, pulled the pin, released the spoon and tossed it into the room.

He moved to his left, to get clear of the door, his hand already reaching for another magazine, and once he reloaded, he would reach for another grenade.