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Curtains #1 - A Crossing of Paths
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<blockquote data-quote="Rybaer" data-source="post: 1507369" data-attributes="member: 118"><p>Hightower Convention Center, Downtown, Coast City</p><p>April 16</p><p>21:14</p><p></p><p>Jorgi chats with his boss throughout the speeches. He's distracted, trying to get another peek of the nice girl. He realizes that he never even got her name. The conference, meanwhile, is going off without a hitch, leaving Jorgi with nothing much to do.</p><p></p><p>Jack's crackly walkie-talkie voice comes through into his tuned mind. "Hey man, take a look at what just walked through the door from the kitchen."</p><p></p><p>*****</p><p></p><p>Maggie just shrugs when Steven mentions what Sandra said to him. Her hand eventually slips off his leg as she settles back to listen to the next speech.</p><p></p><p>The next speaker is an older woman, apparently from a local law firm, who drones on and on about certain legal implications for dealing with metahumans. It seems like it would have been something more appropriate for one of the break-out meetings tomorrow, but that's little consolation now.</p><p></p><p>Mid-sentence, the flexible metal shaft of the microphone on the podium stretches out and wraps itself around the shocked woman's neck. She graps at it in futility, though it does not appear that she is choking.</p><p></p><p>*****</p><p></p><p>The crowd starts to mutter in confusion and a couple people stand to come to her aid. A voice calls out loudly from the direction of the kitchen door. "Please everyone, take your seats now. Your speaker's health is in our hands."</p><p></p><p>A man dressed in layers of tattered robes is striding toward the stage. His face and hands are covered in layers of filthy rags, leaving only his fingertips and eyes exposed. He has the appearance of a leper from an 18th century sketch.</p><p></p><p>Behind him come a pair of men. The first appears to be wearing some manner of metal armor - a cross between medieval knight's gear and something from a bad sci-fi film. He carries a large sword as well. The other man has a metal plate of armor over his chest, but the rest of him is attired in jeans and sweatshirt. Both wear full helms covering their heads.</p><p></p><p>Yet another individual walks, or skitters, in behind them. It may have once been a woman, but now it is something quite disturbing - a hybrid human and centipede. The torso is vaguely humanoid, covered in chitinous plates and sprouting large mandibles on either side of its mouth. It's lower body stretches nearly ten feet long, with dozens of insectile legs on each side. It skitters across the room with startling speed, taking a position on the opposite side of the stage and scanning the crowd with jeweled eyes.</p><p></p><p>The man with the metal chest plate turns to the kitchen door and points at the floor. A mass of metal spontaneously appears, filling in the entire doorway.</p><p></p><p>The man in rags takes the stage. "Don't bother trying to run," he says loudly, so all may hear him. "My comrades have already sealed all the doors." He gestures off-handedly at the two guys in armor, who take up positions near the end of the stage.</p><p></p><p>"You may wonder why we're here and what we want," he continues. "Well, I'm not one for drama or beating around the bush. Quite simply, we've all been wronged by the likes of you and feel we are owed reparations. Fifty thousand a head, if you wish to be let out. Being the wealthy, influential types that you are, I'm sure that won't be a problem.</p><p></p><p>"Other negotiations are not an option. Should any of you think to resist or escape, I can only assure you of a quick and very painful death." He waves his hand in the direction of the entangled lady and instantly dozens of large, vile pustules erupt from her face. She cries out in genuine pain and horror. The man in rags gives a short laugh, then waives his hand and the pustules disappear. "You see, I am Pestilence - I giveth disease and I can taketh it away. I can unleash a plague throughout this room that will spread so quickly and be so infectious that few will survive more than a minute. Don't test me.</p><p></p><p>"You have three hours to procure your money. Cash in $100's only. Might want to get on those cell phones of yours...being after banking hours, it might take some extra effort on your parts. Call the police or the media if you like, I don't really care about them. You, in the back," he points at a local news network that had set up it camera in the back corner to get footage for the evening news. "Feel free to keep the film running - I think it's only fair for the good people of Coast City to see the repurcussions of mistreating mutants."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Rybaer, post: 1507369, member: 118"] Hightower Convention Center, Downtown, Coast City April 16 21:14 Jorgi chats with his boss throughout the speeches. He's distracted, trying to get another peek of the nice girl. He realizes that he never even got her name. The conference, meanwhile, is going off without a hitch, leaving Jorgi with nothing much to do. Jack's crackly walkie-talkie voice comes through into his tuned mind. "Hey man, take a look at what just walked through the door from the kitchen." ***** Maggie just shrugs when Steven mentions what Sandra said to him. Her hand eventually slips off his leg as she settles back to listen to the next speech. The next speaker is an older woman, apparently from a local law firm, who drones on and on about certain legal implications for dealing with metahumans. It seems like it would have been something more appropriate for one of the break-out meetings tomorrow, but that's little consolation now. Mid-sentence, the flexible metal shaft of the microphone on the podium stretches out and wraps itself around the shocked woman's neck. She graps at it in futility, though it does not appear that she is choking. ***** The crowd starts to mutter in confusion and a couple people stand to come to her aid. A voice calls out loudly from the direction of the kitchen door. "Please everyone, take your seats now. Your speaker's health is in our hands." A man dressed in layers of tattered robes is striding toward the stage. His face and hands are covered in layers of filthy rags, leaving only his fingertips and eyes exposed. He has the appearance of a leper from an 18th century sketch. Behind him come a pair of men. The first appears to be wearing some manner of metal armor - a cross between medieval knight's gear and something from a bad sci-fi film. He carries a large sword as well. The other man has a metal plate of armor over his chest, but the rest of him is attired in jeans and sweatshirt. Both wear full helms covering their heads. Yet another individual walks, or skitters, in behind them. It may have once been a woman, but now it is something quite disturbing - a hybrid human and centipede. The torso is vaguely humanoid, covered in chitinous plates and sprouting large mandibles on either side of its mouth. It's lower body stretches nearly ten feet long, with dozens of insectile legs on each side. It skitters across the room with startling speed, taking a position on the opposite side of the stage and scanning the crowd with jeweled eyes. The man with the metal chest plate turns to the kitchen door and points at the floor. A mass of metal spontaneously appears, filling in the entire doorway. The man in rags takes the stage. "Don't bother trying to run," he says loudly, so all may hear him. "My comrades have already sealed all the doors." He gestures off-handedly at the two guys in armor, who take up positions near the end of the stage. "You may wonder why we're here and what we want," he continues. "Well, I'm not one for drama or beating around the bush. Quite simply, we've all been wronged by the likes of you and feel we are owed reparations. Fifty thousand a head, if you wish to be let out. Being the wealthy, influential types that you are, I'm sure that won't be a problem. "Other negotiations are not an option. Should any of you think to resist or escape, I can only assure you of a quick and very painful death." He waves his hand in the direction of the entangled lady and instantly dozens of large, vile pustules erupt from her face. She cries out in genuine pain and horror. The man in rags gives a short laugh, then waives his hand and the pustules disappear. "You see, I am Pestilence - I giveth disease and I can taketh it away. I can unleash a plague throughout this room that will spread so quickly and be so infectious that few will survive more than a minute. Don't test me. "You have three hours to procure your money. Cash in $100's only. Might want to get on those cell phones of yours...being after banking hours, it might take some extra effort on your parts. Call the police or the media if you like, I don't really care about them. You, in the back," he points at a local news network that had set up it camera in the back corner to get footage for the evening news. "Feel free to keep the film running - I think it's only fair for the good people of Coast City to see the repurcussions of mistreating mutants." [/QUOTE]
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