Role Play Live : Group : The Carrendar Dynasty.

Lorewall 2E Time Line.

Demolition Men.

Carrendar (CharlotteCarrendar)

Carrendar: – The cyborg known as M.E.R.C.Y was impervious to many attacks, but there was one, that could prove well to be her undoing. Course, her ill planned kick attempt upon Spartan proved to be a costly error. With her kick making its mark, the sound that followed was a metallic clang. He was a machine, after all. M.E.R.C.Y’s attack placed her in the line of fire, with his armoured legs locking around hers, and then with the power of his thrusters, her powered off the ground, but at the same time, he uttered; “Emp, fire.” To anyone else, these were but words. To the Cyborg, this was the last thing she wanted to hear. An Electro magnetic pulse, which was capable of shutting down her cybernetic body. The shutting off mechanism means that the human side of Natasha could truly come to the fore. But what match is a human to a cyborg. All systems, including defences and even the ability to see from one eye was shot. M.E.R.C.Y was hanging upside down, her arms flailing, till she had her hand caught, and then her upper body brought up to see Spartan, as they hurtled onwards and upwards at an accelerating speed. The face of Natasha, was one of terror, while Spartan spoke of her humanity being lost. Did he not realize by his calculated move that he had actually brought the human out?

“Your humanity… it’s been suppressed and even seemingly lost… a beauty it would have been If you would have retained it..”

Natasha quickly cast a gaze down with her good eye, to see just how high they were, and realized she was now in terrible peril. Barely able to raise her head back up, she clung to the armoured plates of Spartan, her voice lost to the roar of the thrusters that carried them ever skyward.


But he wasn’t stopping. Spartan intended to destroy the creation of twisted evil and metal, once and for all. Her grip upon the armoured Spartan was slipping, due to the cold temperatures as they climbed to over 2000 metres above sea level. Her free leg dangled, whilst her other leg was still pinned between his. Surely he could see the change in her expression…couldn’t he?

“Why does something as beautiful as you have to be so damn dangerous. You’re like a black widow…. Beautiful to look at, deadly to touch.”

“Don’tz……don’t……I can’tz..”

But he let her go, releasing her from his vice like grip, only to watch her plummet helplessly back to earth, her cybernetic systems unable to restart. Natasha stared upward, seeing him get smaller and smaller, as the ground below rushed up to meet her.


It goes without saying. Both, Man and Machines, can both be equal in error.

He watched as the powerless Cyborg plummeted, rapidly gaining speed. Her mechanical parts weighed her down and had increased her potential terminal velocity. Her decent from the heavens was inevitable. Seemingly cast from gates of a peaceful dream, into the void between it and a Hellish nightmare. Its been said once, It will be said again. Humanity isn’t counted as having flesh and a biological structure. What sets man apart from machines… Heart. Something so devoid of explanation, yet something so simple. Animal, Mankind, and Machine.. Though humans were just as comparable to any given animal, The majority had a sense of justice and moral code. But there lays the defining line between, Man and Machine. But what made Spartan anything more than a machine? Was he a cyborg? A human who was just modified for military actions? Or was it a flaw in his own programming?

The knowledge this could all be a fatal mistake on his own judgment, Spartans thrusters light brick orange, creating two distinct wing like marks in this night sky. “Damn it, this could very well be my own decommissioning.” He arched back while the blaring thrusters roared, and with one last curse in to the cool night air, he thrusted himself forward to change his flight path.

In a blatant disregard for his one preservation, he ran a system override to redirect all the power he could into making a powered decent. —-Safety protocol override accepted: Redistributing 85% of main power to thrusters—- A single stream line of code played over his optics internal HUD as the brick orange wing expanded, the colours becoming radiation green, with tips of neon blue.

With the sudden increase in thrust, a shock wave was released around his body as he shattered the sound barrier. 1235.52 km/h in an instantaneous moment. Friction from the molecules around berated his armour plating, tearing at his metallic skin and screaming alongside him as he descended.

A pinging then a female voice relaying his decrease in elevation rang into his internal com mic. “Danger. Elevation: 804 Meters and dropping” Roughly a third of a mile up from sea level. Damn, in mere seconds she’d fallen faster than he’d originally calculated. Again, he over rode the protocols and redirected 90% of his main power, only increasing his velocity a few hundred miles an hour.

Mere seconds between her death, and his failure… Mere seconds that would not be allowed to pass.

“Ninety… Five!” He barked as the thrusters pushed out more so than before. Feet…..inches…Centimetres….Her wrist! He’d reached out and grasped her in the nick of time.

Knowing this could all be a fatal mistake, he disregard his own existence and pushed forward. With his own coding overriding the safety protocols, his main power source, a nuclear fusion unit house deep within his chest had redirected it flow to the thrusters. From a relatively small orange glow, to that of a roaring radioactive green and blue flame. Just enough power was still being directed to keep him from shutting down and to maintain his arms movements. -Danger, Danger. Elevation: 804 Meters and dropping- A warning had pinged up on his Hud. Again, He paid no heed to it and thrusted downwards after the seemingly lifeless Borg. Though, he could have sworn it had spoken on the trip upwards, it couldn’t have been anything more than a programming flaw of his own. —-Systems Over Heat— A stream line read as a countdown followed it. “Shit! Hey, if you are in there at all… Hang on, this could get a rough….” He voiced to the blond cyborg while his overlaying holographic HUD flickered and went out. With Mercy secured in his heavily armoured plated arms, He twisted his body as the thrusters kicked out one last time to break the speed of their decent and succeeded before sputtering out to leave them in a terminal decent… Spartan glanced upon Mercy one last time before his power kicked out. “See you upon rebo” Spartans words were cut off as his optics glow flickered out and vanished.

At least the machine had shown humanity and attempted to save what he may have already destroyed. <E>


Carrendar: – To fall so far, from a height of 2414 metres gave Natasha enough time to think, before her impending death, or second death. Hands reaching out and clawing at nothing but the air around her. Though her mouth was open, no scream was uttered, but silence for there was no one to save the cyborg now. Though she couldn’t see it, the city was now in view, its twinkling lights and spider vein like roads, that went out in all directions from the capital became brighter and brighter.

Life was once again flashing before her eyes, her mind re running the last time she faced death head on. Oddly this seemed no different. Before she had a choice and seized it with both hands. Now she was the victim of her own misjudgement. A failed attack, that took her to the heavens, and then like a fallen angel, she was released from the clouds, to descend into hell. A shudder ran through her entire body, and then she stopped clawing the air. Natasha’s face became almost peaceful looking; ready to be consumed whole when she finally met her fate.

One eye closed, the other remained open for it could not see what was coming. From above however, the very one that had cast Natasha back to earth, was now racing to save her from her end. Suddenly her wrist was gripped and pulled upward, and Natasha opened her good eye, only to see him again, taking hold of her in his arms. They were still falling however, since Natasha was more metal than just flesh and bone.

“Shit…Hey, if you are in there at all… Hang on, this could get rough..”


Natasha drew herself into him, as she felt the power of his thrusters alter the course of their direction, meaning, when they came to land, it would be on his back. Her slender digits dug and tried to find a point to lock into his armoured plates, just as the city street was now just below them. Falling…falling…and then they fell down through the trees of the Central park of Lorewall (ahahaha), breaking branch after branch, sending squirrels fleeing for their lives, till finally both landed in a large shrubbery, with a loud thud. A cloud of leaves and other debris marked their landing, as Natasha passed out on top of Spartan.


Though his lights were out, and his body was out of commission, he’d taken the brunt of the impact. Through tree limbs, squirrel nests (Got them) and other thing. As it is, when a machine shuts down, certain hydraulics remain in place but, some don’t. Upon impact with the ground and due to the velocity, the fussed thruster pack had been torn off, along with his left armoured arm that had caught onto the trunk of a one too many trees, had been torn out of socket and hung by a few hoses and wires. The damage itself was more than sever enough to leave him in a state of disrepair without the proper tools. Tool that were resting upon his air ship… and conveniently.. He’d sent a warning out right before he powered down to standby till word was given.

Was a position he was in. An arm no longer functional, his thrusters severed from his back leaving his internal systems visible, and to beat that, the back of his metal skull had been dented up pretty nicely too. Why is it he had to be build with his operating systems main housing in his cranial region? Where his creators lacking in intelligence? One head shot and it was over.. Given it would have to be a very high calibre, but the shock may be enough to rattle the damn units connections out of place.

As luck would hold up for him, his systems had started to boot back up, and the systems command promt had became visible as his optics relit.But he wasn’t going to moving from where he was any time soon, that much was clear.

Upon his rested the cyborg as he came too. “Bio scan…” He whispered to himself. It was clear he’d saved a human now. Good or bad, it was out of his hands now. If the cyborg rose up now, he was going to have to end it with a self destruct… -Cloud systems, uploading personality and operating systems, all memories being copied to servers in personal quarters- A reading flashed over his optics as he laid there in disrepair.. <E>


Carrendar: – Covered in a fine blanket of leaves and broken branches, Natasha lay motionless upon the broken Spartan, who had sustained a great deal of damage during the final metres of the fall back to the ground. Though some of the trees may have cushioned the landing, they had in fact caused damage as well. Platinum blonde hair covered parts of Natasha’s face, which was pressed hard to the chest of Spartan. One eye remained open, staring outward to nothing, with no movement, or red glow to indicate the cyborg was functioning. But a whisper from below, the voice of Spartan triggered a response from Natasha. Her fingers on her left hand started to move, twitching, while you could hear a soft groan escape her lips.

Natasha brought her hand up to the left side of her face, touching the skin that was hanging off loosely, torn from the fall through the trees. Nervous fingers travel over to the eye that is open, but cannot see. She touches it, and yet does not feel anything. Almost like an awakening, that was sure not to last forever. Her head moves, dragging her other cheek across the armour plating, which was still hot to touch after the powered descent from so high above. There is no electrical buzzing, or shocks, since the EMP had disabled all her operating systems. With just enough energy, she pushes herself off Spartan and rolls onto her back, beside him on the matted and burnt grass.

From beyond the Park, you could hear the wail of sirens, and the criss crossing of search lights across the Lorewall night. Clearly the authorities were trying to track down what caused the building to collapse. Little did they realize that the cause, lay right under their noses, with one of the most wanted women, in Lorewall, laying right by his side. Natasha turned to look at her saviour, who was the very same one, she attacked without mercy. She saw his arm missing, how he was as broken as she was. He was a machine…just like her. She only could think of one thing to say.



Fleet Commander Jackson wasn’t about to obey an order from one of his subordinates,especially on who was his of his own brew perse. “Get the heavy lift ge..” Just as he spoke, Spartan had popped onto the com channels. Either it be via binary, encrypted message, or direct relay. “We need evac… Bring the heavy lift teams and send one of them to my previous position before takeoff….”

“You heard the orders! Get your asses in gear! We’ve got a man down!” Jackson barked aloud on the commanders deck as subordinates began picking up com mics and relaying the orders.


A question he couldn’t give a direct answer too. A single question that pushed Spartan to the brink of an infinite loop. “You could say… I hold interest in you. So, how about that drink, comrade? On the horizon, shimmers of the sun light had started to break and in it, three heavy lift evac units that had been dispatched were racing towards them. With a chuckle, Spartan pushed himself up with an reprogrammed grunt… Then it struck. Sparks, smokes and irregular gear movements. But it wasn’t going to stop him with him on his feet, he leaned down and shifted his arm around the waist of the blonde and bloody cyborg, hoisting her up and ducking his head under one of her arms to support her. “You could say… I am more human than machine too.” He gave a torn smile as he shifted his face towards hers. <E>


The army on the ground, the choppers in the sky. The lights streaming over a city that once again saw tragedy, with the falling of the building. Countless people may well have lost their lives, and with the attention of the authorities on this disaster, it meant that the park was not even considered part now of a zone to be checked out. Natasha watched as Spartan roused, and then answered her, when she asked “Whyz..?” HIs answer, was more or less a question in reply. The same question he had asked, before she went on the attack. History repeating? The outcome would be different this time.

“You could say… I hold interest in you. So, how about that drink, comrade?”

“I dhink you broke…the bottle.” Natasha replied softly, only to find Spartan pushing himself up to standing, with an audible grunt. Laying still in the grass, Natasha glanced up, to see the sparks and smoke emerge from his form. He really was in bad shape, probably way worse that she was, but much of that would have been the armour that was jettisoned down from the ships high above the city. For a moment, she thought he would take his chance, and head back to where he could meet up with those of his own kind, to be repaired, after surviving the fall. Oh how wrong she was. For he leaned down and scooped her up, bringing her to her feet, and ducking his head under her arm to offer support to her to stand, which was not easy considering her weight.

“I am more human than machine too” Spartan offered, with a torn smile, staring at her as she looked back up at him, with one good eye. While the cyborg slept, the human behind it, had a voice, for the first time in forever. “Helpz…mez.” <3>



“You got it…” He responded with a subtle tone. “This is Spartan, requesting rapid response, No, I am ordering rapid response of all heavy lift teams.On the double boys, we got shit to do today!” Though is com mic, he’d ordered all teams to response to their immediate areas. Damaged as he was, he supported her easily, and even began to step forward to meet their lifts. “Also, get 500 liters of reconstruction bots and silicon ready… We are going to need it…” Spartan wasn’t about to let this fight end so suddenly. It was going to be more of an eternal fight now. This human versus the machine side and he’d have to be on board her lift to keep her weighed down if it got out of control.

“You are in need of repairs… And a possible adjustment too you machine sides overpowering CPU. A machine is nothing but, a machine if it’s not kept in check. Either by ones self, or a human side.” Spartans voice box was static filled, cutting in and out, but getting the words through after a few tries. —External damage: 63.3% —pinged up on the Optics HUD, and along it, —Internal damage: 30.7%— Not back for travelling well over 300Mph down into the ground if you were to ask him that is. On 40% remained untouched in terms, and he needed, he would take it all the way. Though most of the damage on the external appearance was covered with muk and soil. The fractures to his internal frame work was extensive. The Gel layers worn out, and his secondary layer of skin shot. But still more capable of taking hits than a human could..

As the first two Lifts touched down, men rushed out, all dressed in their military attire and wearing patches signing their ranks and such. And only to make things worse… That old man Jackson voice was rushing them to get out and to patch his damn son up. White dress uniform on the battle field and unarmed.. “God damn it, old man. Didn’t anyone teach you to wear field appropriate clothing and to stay armed?” With a running punch to Spartans jaw as a rebuke, the Fleet Commander started berating him only to be cut off as he saw the blond bomb shell of a cyborg being supported by the one armed giant. “Boys…. Get more bots…. We have work to do.”

As the medics rushed forward and injected the two with the reconstructive nanobots, Spartan laughed as one of the men held up his almost completely severed arm back into place and another inject the silicon needed by the bots to repair him.

As he looked over and allowed them to carry on doing their thing, he smiled to the cyborg and wrenched his half functioning arm away from the men and cradled Mercy. “Okay, enough about me. We need to get on board and start the repairs on her.” His tone had been filled with truancy as he strode forward towards the lifts. <E>


TonbberyShuffle -==- Kyle had been busy. It wasn’t that he lacked the discipline to keep paying attention or to keep track of his potential opponents but rather that he was a little too confident in his ability to do it while looking away. Or, Kyle did indeed have a Deathwish as his once-upon-a-time “super hero” alias had suggested a point in time that felt like lifetimes ago. His current attitude obviously demonstrating that he wasn’t exactly the right type of person to be doing that kind of work even if he did enjoy the costumes every once in a while. The cape of course was a spur of the moment addition that he distinctly lacked when he played make-believe hero.

Before he had even finished his task in acquiring an impromptu weapon Spartan had already taken off and MERCY was long gone along with him. This didn’t give him pause but rather sped up the process. The rear axel of a one ton pickup was grabbed and yanked from the rest of the drive train and frame. The pumpkin in the middle still maintaining a length of torn and bent driveline that had provided thrust to the rear wheels. Still connected too where the wheels and the oversized tires of what he deduced was a ‘pavement princess’ pickup. A waste in Kyle’s mind and with a scoff he finished by kicking the rest of the vehicle over onto it’s roof.

It was only now that he turned around and looked skyward. It was here that Kyle was witnessing the swoop in an attempt to save MERCY. Eyes growing wide and his body lurched forward to the point as if expecting to leap and attempt to catch her. That was until the trajectory was calculated mentally and as quickly as the twitch in his muscle fibres had started it was done with his body frozen like a statue. All except for his neck craning harshly and at what looked like an impossible angle for human anatomy in order to track them through the sky.

As urgent and dire as the situation was Kyle simply began to walk. The axel–wearing in more than him (yeah, he’s that light) and nearly as tall as he was– became a walking stick. The rubber of the still inflated tires bouncing against the road that prompted a slight skip in Kyle. A cadence kept alongside a beat that only he could hear rattling away somewhere inside his brain pan. The mirth of the moment quickly subsiding though with hordes of uninvited guests.

From both ends of the street the cars approached. Overhead the helicopters with their unknown but insanely high lumen count torches sweeping across the street. Up and down back and forth until the solitary figure was finally noticed in the oscillating blues and reds of the approaching law enforcement officers. The man standing there like some magnificent guardian obelisk and the last piece of standing ruins amongst other ancient buildings. The updrafts and moving air caused by the helicopters sweeping back his cape. His left hand resting on his hip and the other securing the truck axel like the staff of a Wiseman. Or at least that’s how Kyle viewed himself in all the chaos.

In reality he was a half-naked man standing next to the remains of a cop and a building assumed to be demolished in a terrorist attack. His own pants once belonging to the cop and the towel indicating that he was clearly batshit insane. What’s more is if any of the cops had access to comparison photo’s or a damn good memory they’d probably realize he’d been the one to trash a helicopter or two, crash a cop car, and kill a few several months back. Yeah, he was definitely invited to the next Cop Christmas Party.

“FREEZE! PUT DOWN THE WEAPON, GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES WITH YOUR BACK TO US, AND PUT YOUR HANDS ON THE BACK OF YOUR HEAD!” Loud speakers blaring commands to Kyle. Cars had poised and doors opened into a perimeter around the man. Guns were drawn with everything ranging from side arms to the shot guns and possible assault rifles held somewhere inside the vehicles. Kyle on the other hand looked at them in turn; all the while the cops still yelling. HIs free left hand pointing to himself.

“Me? What? Why? You mean…?” His hand pointed behind him at someone that clearly wasn’t there. Then the hand came back to his own chest to point again. His head nodding and then shaking. “You mean me?”

The cops continued. Several nodding in confirmation. Other’s just completely taken aback by the very nature of the post human that stood there before them. In response Kyle only offered a deep sigh. And then the fun began.

His body vaulted with no preparation straight back and upward. No dip in his knees to build up torque for the jump, no build up at all. In fact if anyone were to take a guess the entire movement was done with nothing but his ankles and feet. His body hit the edge of the vehicle behind him he had kicked over and he fluidly rolled over the edge and ended in a crouch on the far side.

It wasn’t cover. It was a weapon. Without missing a beat his left leg shot outward into a point on the frame to push the entire thing towards the center of the cop car formation. The frame of course split and bent inward but not without providing enough resistance–oddly enough more than it should’ve before giving– for Kyle to perform the task. At impossible speeds and with sparks flying everywhere the truck struck the cars and even moved the parked vehicles some distance.

Just as quickly and in the same mere fraction of a second he was going into his second diversionary move. Simply by standing and driving his right arm up the axel flew from his hands like a hunter’s spear. The steel liable to collapse upon contact but not after completely shredding the rotor of one of the overhead helicopters. Metal cried and shrieked as it all happened and even the cops that could get off shots were liable to never hit their target; even as he stood there at the end of it all.

By this point at least two explosions had occurred and one of them was falling and threatening to land on the cops below. Kyle relishing in this and peering skyward only to catch the ride called down to him by Spartan. His right eyebrow quirking and head tilting the same direction. He wasn’t sure what to make of it but it sure as hell didn’t belong to the cops. <E>


VictorVonDrake: – The chaos ensued, the presumable rather one sided fight against a single man and a contingent of police officers. Police officers armed with shotguns, pistols and assault rifles positioned, armed and ready to fire on the target. Up above on a helicopter, a suited man rode shotgun beside the pilot looking down below as another had a assault rifle in hand, hanging out the side door.

It happened all too fast, the helicopter was struck by the axel which flew at it like a spear, which made impact against the rotor. That loud screen of metal being sheered and the feel of the copter tilting hard to the left and right as loud beeping and alarms went off in the cockpit. “What the fuck!” The suited man shouted as the helicopter started to spin, the armed cop that held the assault rifle quickly was thrown off as the helicopter jerked hard on its axis. “We were hit sir!” The pilot responded, the helicopter heading dangerously close to a nearby building.

“No shit! Next thing you’ll tell me we’re about to crash!” He said, quickly reacting and stepping out towards the open door passenger side door. The helicopter spun violently as it was knocked asunder. The suited man took a leap of faith just before the helicopter crashed into the side of the building. The blades hitting into the side of the building before tearing off, cutting into the metal frame as it shattered against it. The suit man dropped downward into the lower part of the building as the copter crashed into it above. He hit a window, shattering as fell inside hitting the floor. The helicopter floors above him, crashing into the building.

The suited man was face first, unconscious several floors below where the copter crashed into the building. His eyes opened up, everything was blurry as his arms came out to the sides and pushed himself up. The building same to shake as he forced himself up to his feet, his face bloodied. He stumbled quickly towards the nearest stair case he could find and made his way downward. His chest hurt with every breath, broken ribs and possibly fractured sternum. He limped himself down a few flights still he was at the bottom floor. He rushed himself outside, with others rushing out at the same time.

He barely made it five feet outside before half the building came toppling down as the building gave out. He quickly made a lunge forward as it came down and everything went black. Everything seemed to stop, he could not feel anything, not sure if he was unconscious. It was as if floating, distant screams and sirens echoed in the back ground, muffled.


Carrendar : – A light buzzing, the nervous tick of the cyborg’s head, as she is held up by the strapping Spartan, who is still missing the better part of his arm. The night sky was now ablaze, with the flood lights of choppers, and the squealing of car tyres from the army trucks that were pouring into the heart of the battered City of Lorewall. Officers with bullhorns barking orders to unidentified foe, that had brought wonton destruction to some of the city’s most prized buildings, and landmarks. It was a media mogul’s dream, and a town planner’s worst nightmare all rolled into one, but in the heart of it all, an evacuation of two cyborgs was about to take place.

The first two evac lifts landed with a massive thud in the grounds of Lorewall Central park, again terrifying the native squirrel population, that had already had to deal with the falling cyborgs from space. Plumes of dust, dirt, and leaf litter floated around like it was a ticket tape parade, but on clearing, the rush forward of soliders wearing military uniforms, and one very loud chap, donned in white. Who ran straight at Spartan, and gave him a welcome, that would involve his fist, and his son’s jaw.

. “God damn it, old man. Didn’t anyone teach you to wear field appropriate clothing and to stay armed?”

The Commander was about to give his son an earful, only to then clap eyes on the platinum blonde that Spartan was supporting with his one good arm. Natasha at this point looked like a real mess, still having not yet recovered her cybernetic abilities, due to the EMP being released during their altercation in the street. Skin torn across her right cheek, and the hollowed appearance from her eye socket, that held the bionic eye, would give clear indication, that she was not human, but acted like it. When her systems did start to reboot, only time would tell of her reaction, however, she was not in a position to return to the abandoned warehouse, to fix the damage to herself, nor continue with her operations, to get the truck engine for the purple suited gang member, of the Fuyu no arashi clan. Natasha’s good eye glanced up at the white suited Commander, who barked his orders to the closest men.

“Boys…. Get more bots…. We have work to do.”

Spartan had men start work on his arm, more or less right away, with nanobots being used to help repair the damage, along with silicon injected to assist. Natasha was going to need a bit more than silicon and as it stood, her own nanobots were asleep at this point. Cradled by Spartan as she was carried towards one of the evac ships, Spartan appeared to have everything under control, in the wake of the city exploding and buildings being torn apart, rocked by fighting on the ground.

“Okay, enough about me. We need to get on board and start the repairs on her.” Spartan said to his men, leading up the landing ramp, where the onboard lighting systems glowed an eerie blue shade that illuminated off Natasha’s skin.


MrObserver- As it stood, they held a high chance of getting out of the city…. Almost unnoticed. But no!!! Kyle… Fucking Kyle, just has to piss the local PD off even more. “Combat Commander, we have a slight problem…” Spartan sighed as he responded. “And what in the blood soaked protestant hell would that be, Private?!” seconds passed as the com mic went fuzzy with white noise. Finally, the Lift team responded. “Your… -coughs- Friend seems to have agitated a wasps nest..Sir.” He looked down onto Mercy and smiled. “So… How about we leave the city with a parting gift?” His attentions turned towards his father figure that stepped next to him. “Son.. What are you planning to do?” His voice giving off that worried tone.

“As it stands, Commander. This Borg is going to reactivate soon I fear and I feel as if I am obligated by law, to smash any noobs in my way. Obviously they didn’t get shit on hard enough last time and I am more than willing to oblige. If they need to get shit on… I’m their guy” Jackson just sighed with a chuckle as his right hand rose and set on Spartans shoulder. “So.. You want us to deal with a crazed killing machine… While you go assist your -cough- Friend?” Spartan nodded. “Sounds about right…Just get the restraints and bolt her ass down… and make sure her tendrils are bonded from top to bottom. As sleek and sexy as they are, they will rip you a new ass faster than monkey peels a banana. And make sure to use the same ones you used on me last time.” He leaned down and laid the damaged Borg on one of the stretchers and strapped her in before turning face and strolling down the lifts ramp and grabbing the barrel of nanobots and dumping it upon himself. “Natasha, fight it till I return…” He roared as sparks were extinguished and the damage was quickly being repaired to his thrusters. With on arm up extend outwards vertically, he gave a thumbs up and laughed. “Let’s roll.” It was only seconds and his body was looking close to completely recovered. With a leap upwards into the sky, a second thruster unit roared into existence and replaced the one that had been torn away.

Without another hesitation, Spartan roared towards the original scene of the fight between Mercy and him.

On board the third lift, which was hovering a decent distance away from Kyle, an order had been give to open fire on the sward of bugs surrounding him. As the ship jetted forward and rotated so that the left broad side was facing the fleet of police, a door slid open as an
anti-personnel .45 calibre chain gun was revealed. Operating it from behind? A sleek raven haired woman, known as Private Fox. As the lift closed in, the woman brought down the lead storm. Sweeping across the wave of armed officers with their weapons all drawn on the dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence. One by one, the fell victim to the rain of lead, as the gunner flashed a seductive smile towards the, clearly “innocent” individual they were more than willing to gun down.

As the hellfire from above ensued, a roar of laughter came into play. It was Spartan rocketing towards the slaughter fest. “I smell bacon, I smell grease… I smell Lorwall City police!!!” With a tremendous shock wave sending ripples through the already torn up streets and causing police cars to flip over onto their sides or tops, Spartan landed with his fist to the ground and kneeled. “GET TO THE CHOPPA, JIMMY BOY!!!” He barked towards Kyle. “I’ll clean up the mess here….” And with a grin, spartan rose and turned to face the police that were left. Guns still trained, but now on both him and kyle. “Directed EMP” he whispered as a light wind up was replaced with a click. Any remaining headlights and sirens were cut off as the elector magnetic pulse was directed towards those he faced.

With the lights out, exempt those of his own lift spot lighting Kyle and making its decent. Spartan rushed forward to engage the rest of the pigs.<E>


TonberryShuffle-==- This was getting exciting! Explosions, loud noises, gun fire, oh my! Cops were at a complete loss at all the chaos caused by what could conceivably be considered a small scale invasion. A fleet, combat cyborgs, post humans, and who knew what else had been thrown into the mix that resulted in enough casualties to severely deter any person from becoming a cop in Lorewall in the near future.

Kyle was on a roll and wasn’t about to let it end like that. His footsteps carried him to the right towards the nearest cop car there. The floating ship working on many of the cops and drawing attention and the raven haired woman (Ahem…Megan?) even flashing a delightful smile down this way. Oh, it was the best. Day. Ever.

This was about when Spartan came flying back. The thrust created by his nuclear powered thrusters causing even further devastation. The force even removing the cape from around Kyle’s neck where it would its way lodged against the face of a nearby cop. Spartan’s words meeting Kyle and to which Kyle could only stop and stare. He was judging the delivery of the line with a direct comparison to its original and didn’t quite buy it.

Kyle’s right hand lifted with his index finger going skyward. “Uh…and Natasha?” He couldn’t help but wonder at least a little bit before going on his next adventure on board the floating ship once it was within range.


VictorVonDrake: The suited man laid there, silent with those distant echoes of panic and chaos. Everything seeming so distant as for certain he was burried under a large pile of rumble with the bodies of many people caught in the land slide of civil engineering. He reviewed in his head, processing the extent of the chaos he could listen too underneath that debris.

Suddenly, he heard a static voice. It resonating from his earpiece. Unable to make it out, trying to move his arm but to no avail. “Come in do you *sssht*, repeat the hold bars have bee*Shht*, you have been given free rei*Shht*. Authorization code 55*shhht*829.” The voice came in rather faint. He was still as a smile came across his face as he laid there unable to move himself. “Close enough..” He thought to himself out loud.

From the debris, a large slat of concrete and rebar started pushing itself up as something from within burrowed its way out from underneath the rubble. The slat rolled over as the suited man stood, having come from underneath the rubble back to the chaos. He was tore up, his coat red with blood. He moved his hands up and started to undo it, pulling it off from around his shoulders and tosses it on the pile of debris. He then opened his shirt, having pulled the tie from around his neck.

One could visibly see the various ribs and bone sticking from his chest. Deep lacerations there and on his face as he looked out and across. It was dark, the lights out as his eyes adjusted to the dark to a inhuman degree. The ribs started to shift visibly in his chest as tissue started to tear and biologically morph. A accelerated healing process as the lacerations on his face disappeared.

He looked out, able to see the only light within his range, a ship lowering down to the ground on descent. He strained his eyes, which caused his eyes to dilate and rapidly adjust. The strain on his ocular muscles causing a biotic adaption, increasing his sight downrange. He could see the man that brought his copter down and gave a low growl. The synapses in his brain fired faster, at a inhuman rate. His skin darking as his body rapidly changed before he took off at an impossible speed towards these descending craft.

His body kept changing as he ran, the muscular, skeletal, cardiovascular and respiratory altering almost sickly. In truth, it was more painful than anything imaginable. He was used to this though, he was brood. He made a jump, just before that transport touched ground. Ramming the entirity of his body into at such a high speed. Grabbing onto it like a monster, his hands snatching onto the sides and grasping a hold of the plating. This caused the pilot to panic, jerking the ship hard to the side and toppling it over and crashing. Disabling the ship more than hurting anybody inside.

His body smashed against the side as he throw himself at a maniac. He shoved himself off and onto the ground as the ship was on its side. His feet hitting the ground with a fleshy slap. The visible changes of his body grotesque. He faced the man that was planning to board his little get away vehicle. “You crash my ride, I crash yours.” He said, standing straight as he looked this man in the face. The only lighting casting a silhouette over this freakish looking individual.


“Natasha, fight it till I return…” Spartan roared as he spirited off to deal with the carnage below, as Natasha was strapped down tight onto a stretcher on the landing bay of the lift support vessel. To her right, she could just make out the Commander, who looked resplendent in his white officer’s uniform. Did he realize what he was standing next too? Sure, the cyborg was seriously damaged, and she was also without power. Or..had been. The light buzzing in her head, that had gone from a dull noise, to something more akin to an electrical crackling intensified, as the left eye slotted back into position. All across her body, silver nanobots were crawling now, like lecherous bugs, trickling out of the wounds that riddled her body. The army fatigues she wore, moved with an unnatural manner, while her head jerked, as the operating systems were now attempting to come back online.

From out of her shoulders, twin robotic arms, forged from a mysterious metal, clawed their way out of the mottled fabric, and with pin point accuracy started a flurry of movement, in trying to repair the cyborg back to her original state. The sounds of whirring from deep within, and the artificial respiratory systems engaged, so her chest rose and fell with a regulated tempo. Natasha’s arms were pinned down, with the straps that had her restrained starting to show signs of straining, from the pressure that was starting to be applied. (M.E.R.C.Y)- reboot systems. EMP attack. rebooting. Command prompt…RT-295, engage. M.E.R.C.Y unit restrained. Location : files scanning. – Her left eye shone with an intensity that would scare any mortal, as she turned her head towards the Commander, who had just seen off his son. Though Natasha’s memories were still intact, the will of the cyborg to be free of her bonds, was stronger.

One by one, the restraints and ties that pinned her down, snapped apart, the pinging sound, and the ricochet of metal parts would hit the sides of the interior of the landing bay, as the cyborg simply sat bolt upright on the stretcher. Her feet swung over the edge and then with both hands pressed down, she pushes herself up to standing. The metallic arms whir and then retreat back into her shoulders, while the tendrils snake about her from behind. A strong bluish illumination shines through her clothing, for beneath her chest, is the etherician crystal core; a power source so strong, that it can be maintained for over a thousand years. There is only one other like it remaining on Lorewall, in a place just shy of the south of Nixagris. The cyborg then takes a step towards the Commander, as she slowly raises her left arm.

“Vhere….is he?”


“Commander… Authorization code: SSPX70-XX1070-Mrk2.” Spartan knew it was time. He’d been building his new body for years now. Beyond any cybernetic advancements known to this universe so far. Within the a sectioned off portion as the air ship, devoid of light, and lost too the rest of the crew, exempt Jackson. A two iridescent eye’s flickered into existence. Next to the ten foot tall, dull aluminium colored skin, a holo-screen flickered into life. —Waiting on transfer codes—- Back on the ground. “I need the transfer now. Obviously, some people here want to wreak me lift units…” Jackson rang back through encrypted com link between him and his metallic son with a hint of sadness.
“understood… See you on the other side.” As the ship laid on its side as he dispatched the few remaining officers. The light associated illumination of his optics quickly changed to a light blue. -Self destruct sequence initiated. Countdown: T-minus 2 minutes.- Back on board the E-vac lift, Jackson looked upon Mercy. Her cybernetic side was alive and well, but was going to be subdued.

Though her tendrils were waving about, there was only one thing Jackson could do know. With a clenched of his fist, he smiled, but with a displeasure. “Sorry.” Housed under the right sleeve was a wrist unit. A precautionary unit that all of the solders carried. Not only did it double as a remote for the ship, for him. But a definitive offensive weapon against machines.

“Vhere….is he?”

“He’s headed off to assist your boyfriend, but I am sorry to inform you… You may not get to carry your fight with him. As they have been engaged by an unknown hostile that took down their Lift Ship and has been grounded… My son, your Savior is going to pay… the ultimate price to keep you two out of way and out of the hands of the athourities.” With another clench of his fist, the commander shook his head. “Authorization code: SSPX70-XX1070-Mrk2. Protocol: One, Niner, Niner, Omega, Aplha.”

Back at the scene of the ongoing plight. Spartan had finished his handy work and leapt over the fallen ship, taking up the space between the unknown and Kyle. “Kyle… Run….” His words were hollow, but meaningful. Upon his back, an LED screen flashed a radioactive symbol, followed by an explosion symbol. “Take the survivors of the Lift and run…” He looked back and nodded, only to his attention caught be the raven haired Private. “Her names, Megan Fox… Take care of her and the rest, I’ll handle this..” With one foot forward, Spartan took his position and returned his attentions towards the unknown being before him. “I’ll be your target tonight.. Your last target… And I give it of about two minutes.”

Back on board the ship, the Holo-Screen had flashed in acceptance of the code spoken by Jackson, which was relayed through his Com Wrists mic. With a progress bar already sitting at 35%,
the transfer of Spartans mind and programming was all being compiled into the newer, more advance body that a remained cloaked in darkness, though hints of the original version were there, Like the Death Hawk worn by X70, If one could see the new Unit, they would only tremble in fear. Toned body, silver skin, eye’s glowing iridescent red, and an etched marking over the well developed artificial/Cybernetic muscle fibre of its right pectoral muscle reading. “X1070-Mrk2” A creation to be sought after upon its appearance.

“I need a warp jump for my friend here, and a the crew… Lock onto their biological and cybernetic signatures and get them out now…” He’d sent another encrypted message to the warp station crew members aboard one of the high flying Air ships. “Yes, sir.”

“See you on the other side…. Bub.” Spartan growled as he reached into the inner lining of his tattered Ebony and Crimson trench coat and pulled out a single bend Lacardis Cigar and light it, taking a few puff to insure it stayed lit. Smoke rolled over the brim of his bottom, silver lined lip. For the last time, He sent a message to his father and asked for it to be played aloud for Mercy to hear. “Mercy, I’ll see you on board my ship. There we can either have a drink or fight…Also, have my father patch you through to Private Fox, she is with your Friend. But I promise you, I’ll be there shortly after you arrive.” With the smoke rolling from his lips, the thrusters on his back ignited, propelling him forward towards the Unknown, and drawing both his .50 calibre Six Shot revolvers to be aimed upon the beings chest. “Spartan… Signing off…” <E>


Stood silently eyeing the man before hearing a man shouting “Kyle”. Brood’s head picked up and turned towards another making his way towards then. Brood relaxed his body, though it ached from its changes. He told Kyle to run as Brood gave this man his full and undivided attention. According to the reports, this man matched the description of the Leader of this contingent of hostiles. He started speaking over com and Brood bid his time, adjusting himself as his eyed this new comer.

Dead bodies on the ground as death littered the streets with piles of rubble. Rebar, concrete, crushed cars and flesh. Brood started to grin as his eyes focused solely on this cybernetic individual. Brood tensed his body as Spartan reached into his trench and pulled out two hand cannons. Revolvers, meaning reliable unlike pistols, though lack the same ammunition. Those bullets strong enough to put holes in about anything. Blow off limbs and penetrate armour, and Brood recognized this. He did not care however and started to step towards this man one step at a time.

“Ohhh, by all means, please end it? I mean, you would not be the first to have tried. Fire those cannons, do it!” Brood said, aggressively approaching the cybernetic man. His arms going out to the side. His muscular structure starting increase in density and strength. Tightening and building at a micro-fibril level, the wearing stress on his body painful. This man wanted a fight, but so did Brood. His skeletal composition changing, this Spartan best be able to kill him in these few shots.


Carrendar : – M.E.R.C.Y stood still, arm raised at the Commander, ready to engage her cannon, should he prove to be hostile towards her, while she was finishing a full reboot of her operating systems. The sounds she made, from beneath her tattered military fatigues, were that of the inner metallic exoskeleton, doing testing on her limbs, locking everything back in place, that had been damaged on landing in the park. The prizing arms, that had come from her shoulders, could only do so much without the necessary parts that were back at the industrial part of the city, but she could easily use whatever was in reach to make do if she had too. The tension was thick in the air, moreso from the Commander, who was delegating orders from where he stood, facing the unknown threat of the female cyborg. The Commander spoke of her boyfriend, to which M.E.R.C.Y looked confused. To her, she didn’t have a boyfriend as it were, the last operating unit made alongside her was P.A.I.N, and he was now decommissioned from service.

“My son, your Savior is going to pay… the ultimate price to keep you two out of way and out of the hands of the authorities.”

The Commander now was speaking of Spartan, the one that had broken her fall, after attacking her with the EMP. The Cyborg flinched, for within the memory of Natasha she tried to override the cyborg’s intent to carry on with an attack. Clearly, the cyborg was not all machine. Something had happened to her, prior to her arrival back in Lorewall after her mission to collect all the relics. The suitcase; left alone with it in an abandoned warehouse, when opened, within its tattered body, was the life of Natasha; everything she had held dear, including the final chip, which M.E.R.C.Y had installed. Slowly, the cyborg lowered her arm, the locking in of the cannon, kept it hidden and out of action, for now. The tendrils that snaked around her, also withdrew back into her back, locking down, so now she was relatively safe to be around. Would the commander view this as standing down? Only when Spartan’s voice was heard amplified over the comms, did she back down fully.

“Mercy, I’ll see you on board my ship. There we can either have a drink or fight…Also, have my father patch you through to Private Fox, she is with your Friend. But I promise you, I’ll be there shortly after you arrive.”

M.E.R.C.Y didn’t know or recognise the name Private Fox, but she accepted his offer, not giving an indication of whether she would continue the fight or not. A decisive nod, and the cyborg finally spoke.

“Patch me into Private Foxz…Kyle..iz down there.”



MrObserver : Private Fox was just coming to after being knocked back from the sudden take down of the E-Vac Lift, when Fleet Commander Jackson buzzed in through the static of his Com link. “Private, do you copy?” Though she was still slightly disoriented, Fox did manage to upright her self and make her way out the rear of the Lift. “Private Fox, Do you copy? Respond.” As she stumbled out into the midst of the tension being created by her Commanding Officer, Sargent Major: Spartan. Her eyes widened upon seeing his paldrons, upper arms and lower glowing with an iridescent green that kept getting brighter.


“God Damn It, Fox. Respond or Ill have you up for court marshal!” With the sight of her her superior going nuclear, and the voice of the other raging on the mic tucked away in her ear, she fully came too. “Commander, We have a problem. Sargent Major is going nuclear!” On the receiving end of the transmission, Jackson lowered his head in sorrow. “Mercy, you may not see Spartan again… My son is going to self destruct to save your asses for the authorities.” A sigh was following his statement before replying to the private. “Private, where is Spartan? What’s going on around you?” As fox received the transmission, She’d started to scan the immediate area. There before here stood the eight foot tall Sargent Major with his back towards the one he’d called an E-Vac for… And in front of him, with all the wreckage and collateral damage done to the area around the streets. Glass shimmering from the fires, bits and pieces still falling from struck buildings, and lifeless corpses of the small army of police mixed with other innocent bystanders whom were covered in gashes, filled with holes. It was a true horror for any soldier to see. Human life taken. Bodies with bones split and penetrating from them. Limbs severed, blood still oozing out from them. Hell, Fox could have sworn this is what hell looked like. Here words were filled with trepidation as she rang back to give a sit-rep to Jackson.. “I…It’s hell sir, Hell all around….” The young private was in shock. She’d shot and killed many of them men around, but this… It seems as if an animal had gotten hold of the… It hit her as she focused back onto Spartan armored forearms… The popping of something sinister coming from them as they were gaining heat. The the distinctive tint on his hands… Fox knew deep down she’d only laid waste to a dozen or so, but this.. Her commanding officer had ripped entrails, spines, broken bones and impaled them mercilessly? Without regard to a single life? She’d heard rumors of him taken on entire militias and decimating impromptu military bases among his light work. But this is what ever looked up to? A killing machine?


As the transmission reached Jackson, he sighed and looked away from mercy. “Private, drain your mind of the chaos and tell me where Spartan and his Friend is. That’s a direct order from the fleet commander himself.” Fox gave a gulp and tried to stay calm as she spoke. But a horror like this? For a twenty four year old? It’s was going to take copious amounts of will to endure this sight. “Spartan is standing with his back turned to the one he’d ordered us to Lift out of here. A…And he’s drawing weapons upon an Unknown hostile who just keeps getting bigger and bigger.” the end of her words were mere mutters as she broke out in tears. Death seemed to be approaching her as she dropped to her knees, allowing her them to touch as her legs bent outwards to form an arrow like point. Her hair covering her face from few as Spartan glanced over to his right, taking notice of his unstable subordinate. Jackson rang back with trying to ease the devastated female soldier. “You’ve done good. Don’t worry, we’re getting out now. Warp teams locking onto your teams Bio-algorithms and Cybernetic Signatures. See you on station, Private.”


As the Fleets Combat Commander, Sargent Major: Spartan X70 had made his choice to stay being and if needed. Take all remaining opposing personnel down, or along with him to the grave. With a flick of his head giving direction to Kyle, she coughed. “See her? Do me a favor will ya? Take good care of her. She’s not he clingy type, but she will need some assistance cooping with this event. And if she asks. Tell her I went down fighting.” His words were calm, calculated, and precise. He knew the beast before him was rip, roaring and ready to go.

As he stepped forward unto sacrifice, Spartans attention became fully adjusted and focused upon the oversized big mouth, who was all to willing to die tonight. As smoke rolled from the confines of his mouth and over the brim of his bottom lip, he shook his head and adjusted his two revolvers aim until the one was locked onto point with the center of the Unknowns skull, and the other locked onto the normal position for most bipedal creatures heart. Location, the right side of the chest.


“Tell me, big “man”. You over compensating for the lack of something? Is that why we’re watching you roid out? “ Subtlety wasn’t programmed into him, so the humorous insult wasn’t to humorous after all.


Back on the Flag ship, the Holographic projective screen that held the progress bar for the upload of Spartans programming, memories, and attributes had jumped dramatically. Now reading at a whooping 95%, thanks to his high output transmission modules he’d been designed with for the intention of rapid recon responses. Spartan was more than ready to initiate the final count down to self destruct.


“Sir, we have them locked and are ready to commence warp.” His attention was locked, but he did respond with a simple nod of his head, which in turn sent a binary code back to the send that translated out to. “Then fucking do it.” Smoke just kept rolling form between his lips as the advanced further towards the lumbering, every building behemoth of a creature.” Hey, Grape ape… Well, your not really purple but, fuck. Come on. It works. Would you rather me call you an over grown jungle bunny?” ((Yup, that maybe offensive to some people but, that is how the Character works.))


Behind and to the right of him, it was obvious the Warp team had began transport. As both of the beings, and members still inside the ship started to be deconstructed on a molecular level and woven into visible green streams data, Spartan opened fire. Both arms and hands holding true to there mechanical nature, neither moving even a fraction as round after around exploded forth from the cylinders, through the counter clock wise plasma bored barrel and out of the muzzles. Each depleted uranium round following the previously spent one. With the roaring releases of gases propelling the rounds out reverberated through the chaotic night air, leading to a silence. Spartan laughed as the transmission completed.


Back on the Flag ship, the Holographic projective screen that held the progress bar for the upload of Spartans programming, memories, and attributes now read “Transfer completed.” then flickered out as the two iridescent red eyes grew in luminosity, finally holding at a bright, blood red.


“Computer, pull the plug.”


“Self destruction… T-minus 10..9.”

A hidden speaker for an anonymously placed rang out the count down while Spartan remotely spoke to the creature he’d been engaging prior to the moment of completion. “Sorry to cut this shot, but… SUPRISE MOTHER FUCKER!” The now decommissioned Spartan roared before charging the behemoth. His armor glowing neon green, on the arms, chest a fine bright cheery red, and his torso neon blue. Spartan no longer had to worry about the Kyle, Fox, or the rest of his lift team, as they had already been warped on the flag ships warp deck and were being disengaged from the “reconstruction” pods.


With the effective imitate epicenter blast zone from his nuclear fusion power plant being at 965.60 meters, and the force of the blast weighing in at an astronomical amount for such a tiny core. The instantaneous heat levels of the epicenter reaching 50 million degrees Fahrenheit. It would be an act of god if this monstrosity of a being survived.


With a fraction of a second left, Spartan had already sent out a binary encrypted code, that only Mercy’s algorithms could decrypt stating “And I sacrifice myself for you, and your future. Please, have my father show you to my personal quarters. There awaits the start to a brighter future, and a bottle of the finest Russian vodka, among other things you will enjoy seeing.”


With the pavement around warping and being peeled up, the debris tossed to the wind, and the corpses being incinerated. The damage would be done. Building for 30 city blocks around in each direction would topple over, lives would be ruined and families torn apart…. But it was a sacrifice Spartan chose for the people of that area to take part in…. In a single flash of blinding light, vaporizing waves of heat, and radioactive rays, along with an EMP being released, the severity of the situation had reached its climax and subsides all in a single moment


One of the most notable things a human can do… self sacrifice for the preservation of others.


Just out of luck, the lifts had made it out of the city, but Mercy, Jackson, Fox, and the rest of his crew members had been watching. Either by way of the observation deck, or from a broadcast being up linked to all the monitors on each Air ship, only to be delivered with a voice of their beloved, monstrous, merciless, and sought after Sargent major. “Remember what you see. For that Unknown is our enemy, along with any that get in the way of freedom… Sacrifice will have to be made, and that is the ultimate price to pay, but a price I was willing to give for you all…. May Mercy be with you all, in your dreams…”


It was a shame, to an extent. Behind closed and hidden doors, Spartan wrenched himself free of the upright supports for his new body. Dulls Grey skin, well toned body, an extend height, and a face that would leave any woman begging for one more look. Spartan X70 Mrk2, the upgraded body for the Sargent major. With a step forward, his nude dulls sliver body glided silently toward a shelf that held new set of the heavy ebony and crimson leather he was so associated with. As he slid into the pants, he had to “adjust “himself to fit properly. More human than before could be said with a taste of truth.

As he reached into the ebony and crimson leather jacket,  he flashed himself a smile in a single  reflective square panel, revealing the new set of polished carbon steel teeth. “Damn, it’s good to be alive…”