New Beginnings(Invite only)

TZZWT!!!

ZZZZT!!!

QWTTZ!!!

The air crackled, and lightning arced from a central point. Then, for a long moment, it was still again, before, with a sudden CRACK, the sky exploded and a figure fell to the ground, a gun held in his arms clicking as he held the trigger down.

"AMMO DEPLETED."

"No shit!" growled the figure as he rolled to his feet. The figure looked around as the dust settled, and tilted his helmeted head. "Where the Hell am I?" he asked, before raising his arm and staring at his wrist. A device held there beeped and a screen brightened for a moment. "The Isle of Fortune? Off the coast of England? That place sank under the ocean when the nukes hit. What the Hell is going on here?" he asked, as he tapped the screen with a finger. The helmeted head tilted again, before the eye plates shifted from red to a light green. "Alright. Let's worry about that later. Survival first. Which means reloading." He reached under the long coat and pulled out a magazine, which he slid into place on the rifle, making sure to tuck the empty one under his coat.

"AMMO REPLENISHED."

"Piss off," he growled down at the rifle, which beeped, as a light blinked green.

He was on an island; the cool ocean breeze carried the scent of the sea as it wafted gently over the land. The figure had landed on the Eastern edge, on one of the cliffs overlooking the vast Atlantic ocean. In the distance, on the main shoreline, the subtle outline of a town could be seen, though nothing more distinct than the vague outline of buildings through the mist. From the cliffside, an ancient forest ran for several miles, filled with beasts and monsters in equal measure. It was a splendid view, unspoiled by the depravity of man, one the rich would spend millions to acquire.

Of course, he wouldn't have long to admire the view.

As if emerging from the very boulders and trees, two dozen men and women in an odd uniform - masks covering their face and scaled armor on top of black unitards - appeared, wielding weapons of various sorts, though mostly guns, all of which were pointed at the intruder. It wasn’t easy to get past the defenses of Olympus, and yet this stranger, wielding a weapon they had never seen before, had done so like it was the easiest thing in the world. They were cautious of course, slowly circling, never giving a clear line of sight - whatever the weapon was, it was clearly a gun of some sort. They were circling him, waiting for some sign to move.

And then, it came.

” >Report: Your tech is fascinating.”

It was a mechanical, tinny voice, coming from the ground, the grass, everywhere around him. In the moments after the statement, suddenly, a shape began to form, millions of nanobots, each no larger than a period on a page, shaped and grew and built an individual in front of him. White hair and piercing blue eyes, unnaturally striased with wires thrumming with electricity, set him apart from the rest of the crew there, and his outfit was more “formal’ than the others, setting him above the others there.

”>Inquiry: How did you overcome our defenses? They are by all metrics impenetrable?”

His voice was singular now, without the buzzing of a billion voices speaking at once, but it was still unnatural, computerized, without affliction. Simulated emotion blanketed it, but none of it was real. Despite that, there was a very real curiosity in his face, a hunger for information that he rarely got to feed. Especially with the technology he possessed; he had never met any tech so … resistant. before.

And then his head cocked, as if listening to something.

”Amendment: I should ask your designation as well.”

As the men and women appeared and surrounded Connor, a hand released the weapon he held, sliding down to touch an object attached to his waist. Light sprung from it, before settling over the masked, helmeted man, shimmering slightly. That done, the hand moved to tilt a tubular object at his side forwards, and then snapped back to gripping the rifle. Turning in place, his head snapped back and forth between the men and women around him, before settling on the white-haired individual that formed before him. A gloved finger whispered across the trigger of the weapon gripped in his hands, though not enough to activate it.

From under the mask attached to his head, his response came. "Thanks. I built most of it myself. As for getting here... I'm not sure. I was fighting some Feeders in New York, and then I was here, in... England."

A pause, and then the helmeted head turned to face the man fully.

"You first," came the simple reply, as the eye ports of the helmet began to glow amber once more.

”Say nothing.”

The commanding tone of a woman sounded out from amongst the trees, appearing as suddenly and silently as a whisper. She struck an imposing figure, highlighted against the sun, hair blowing dramatically in the wind. In her left hand a thin blade was clutched, and in the other a pistol of some sort. Immediately, the soldiers surrounding the small area stepped back, leaving the intruder to this new woman. From their reactions, she was obviously in charge around here. With the area cleared, she leaped, an elegant front somersault bringing her to a stop right in front of him.

She was short, only coming up mid-chest on this stranger, but Katrina was used to that by now. What she didn’t expect was a feeling of crackling energy between them, intensifying as she got closer. It was like a contained storm, threatening to lash out at any time; logically, Katrina could only conclude it was some power of his. Blue eyes glared from over the black mask; there was a look in those eyes, one that suggested he would destroy him and raze whatever land he was from if he dared to transgress in her presence.

Though her stance was resolute, there was an undeniable spark. Were she a younger, more naive woman, she’d misconstrue it as romantic, but she recognized it for what it really was; danger. So then why did she have the strongest urge to touch him? Something inside her, normally where she heard the echoing voice of Kitty during the times she is not in this realm, screamed at her to just touch him, just a single finger, what harm could it do? Her finger twitched at the thought, temptation warring with stubbornness and duty. She could not ignore the voice, but she also could not very well run her finger across his jaw like Kitty (now leaning in her less-than-corporeal form against a tree) was suggesting.

So she compromised.

”Come on.”

She said it in a growl, timing it at the same time as she aimed to grab his arm; had it worked, it would have been an excellent display of dominance. But the second the tips of her fingers touched the thick jacket, the lightning that had festered between them struck; or so it felt like. From the tips of her fingers and down to her toes, it felt like every nerve was on fire, a single, burning second. A halo of flame surrounded her, blue eyes wide as the conflagration consumed her, and she slipped through a hole in the very fabric of physical matter. In this single second, the necklace around her neck, cut into four equal diamond-shapes, glowed brightly, floating of its own free will and seeming to nearly come off her neck.

But then she was gone.

And in her place was a new figure.

Blonde hair tainted with pulsing emerald and eyes as green as the radiation of her home world, she was far more traditionally beautiful than the girl who’s place she took. The blue-and-gold jumpsuit she wore, emblazoned with the bold number “111”, did little to hide her curves, and what little skin was exposed - around the waist and, perhaps due to the heat, a small amount of bust from a pulled-down zipper - was tanned and dirty. Streaks of dirt marred her pretty features, and though it was not caked on like mud, it was pronounced enough to darken her complexion significantly. Perhaps the most noticeable bit about her appearance was a large, rather clunky looking box on her left arm, festooned with dials and a blank glass screen.

”What the fuck?”

Her voice was high pitched and incredibly feminine, only rising in pitch as she realized her predicament. Quickly, she tapped on the device on her wrist, lights appearing and, through twisting of the dials, changed it to a screen that seemed to be a map of some sort. But obviously, as she looked at it, she didn’t like what she saw; her eyebrows knitted in worry, a look of panic wavering in her eyes. She seemed to notice, as if for the first time, the dozens of individuals with guns all around her. Her panic reached a crescendo, there was a flash of green light, like an old-school computer, and suddenly she was holding a rifle, heavily modified and quite powerful looking. She swung it around at everyone around her, finger hovering over the trigger, which in turn caused the soldiers to stiffen.

”Get BACK, where am I? How are you … human?!”

Since most of them were shrouded in shadow and clothes, her glowing eyes fixated on Connor, lips set in a tight, determined frown. Despite not having seen another human in years, there was something about the much taller man that put her at ease. Perhaps it was the frankly absurd amount of rads emitted from him fostered some sort of sub-conscious connection, but she didn’t totally drop her guard, instead staring uncertainly at Connor in front of her.

”Is this some kind of cult thing? Really, I’ve had enough of that, and I don’t need the stress.”

A vein was pulsing slowly on her forehead, seeming to increase it’s beat with every passing second …