Papers, Please [Kris , Invite]

SETTING: Outskirts of Downtown Jump
PLAYERS: KRIS, RAPTURE
SUMMARY: Not all demons go to hell, and someone's got to clean them up.

From the moment she had been summoned to this world, Rapture had been haunted by spirits, tied like an umbilical cord separate from her mother’s. The Golden Scorpion, a wry yokai with speed at his side. The Mother Tiger: strength and fear pack in one maternal punch. The Great Red Dragon: the pinnacle of her namesake and the source of her lethal Blood Spirit Blade. These spirits had learned to co-exist with the girl through much trial and error and time, and therefore did not bother her save for the occasional warning or other such prompt.

But these spirits? These were not the type to be welcomed, let alone be helpful. These were Oni, Japanese demons birthed from the souls of those too evil for Hell itself. Two had somehow escaped Raven’s giant skeleton-ending curse, now wreaking havoc as they aimed to slaughter helpless citizens by the light of the moon. Their main target was the sole Japanese temple in Jump, their intention to slaughter everyone in their paths. Standing over ten feet tall each and with massive, monstrous muscles, the demons took an even more sinister appearance with animalistic protruding fangs, bloodred skin, and spiked clubs taller than the one person who stood between them and a fleeing crowd.

Upon hearing the news of the Oni, Rapture had instinctively prayed to the Golden Scorpion for swiftness and precision and gained his approval as her eyes turned entirely gold, a set of light armor settled upon her person, and her dual chakram appeared in her hands, each sharpened enough to cut steel and crackling with electricity. Less than forty seconds had passed before she made her stand, brandishing the enchanted weapons as they gleamed like lightning.

No words to waste, Rapture flung one chakram like a disc at spiked club, cutting it in nearly to the hilt with relative ease before circling back to its owner. Her second chakram was aimed at the store awning, heavy with rice barrels until she collapsed the structure as the weapon sliced the reinforced wires. A cascade of heavy barrels came crashing down on the Oni, their contents creating a cloud of dust. Meanwhile, the petite powerhouse barked orders at the storefront owner to evacuate, pointing to the direction of which other startled citizens had run. The more scattered the crowd, the less casualties.

As the second weapon returned, Rapture readied herself to properly brawl with the beasts. “I have a use for you,” she muttered, thinking of the immense amount of spiritual fuel she’d gain from this fight.

"Bravo team, we have reports of giants attacking downtown. Similar to what attacked Midtown with the Skeleton. Also, reports indicate a woman that was on both scenes. She must be either taken in or eliminated. This is coming' from top brass."

4 large transport trucks with DOMA on the sides barreled towards the Red Zone, followed by a Black and Red Mustang. The four trucks would stop a half mile before the red zone, creating a perimeter and pulling civilians behind them. DOMA seemed to be unusually rough with the civilians, literally pulling and throwing them behind the barricade, "THIS IS A COMBAT ZONE! ALL CIVILIANS VACATE THE AREA OR RISK YOUR LIVES!" A woman who was screaming about her child rushed to the front of the crowd, "My baby is still back there!" The men would look at each other, before a woman decided to break rank and head into the crowd, pulse rifle in hand...

The Mustang raced right into the fray, stopping just short of the store front. "Big Brother, Nomad is arriving on scene. No back up required." He'd look at the trio, "Heh, looks like it's two on one, that ain't fair." There'd be a stale feeling in the air, followed by a massive KRAK as Kristoff was covered in red lightning. He'd pull out what looked like silver sword hilts, one projecting a blue blade, the other a red blade. He'd seem to teleport in front of one of the Giants and slice up, confident the Plasma and lightning attack would make short work of the giant.

Kristoff grinned at the woman, "Ouch! Reminds me of what that chick in Syria told me." He laughed too himself, before watching her demeanor, she was hostile. He'd holster his swords and approach, palms facing her, "Relax, my name is Lt. Kristoff Makarov, I'm with DOMA. I have some questions for you."

He'd take a couple steps forward, trying to be as non-threatening as possible. Then his radio went off "Nomad, remember, if this gets violent, keep it contained, no need to put others at risk." Nomad would roll his eyes. That's why he was sent, not any of the bruisers. He would look at the woman, she was... odd to say the least. Nothing he wasn't used to, but he was trying to see her purpose here, "I guess my first question is this, who were Tweedledee and Tweedledum, and did you have anything to do with that?"

Rapture did not buy this man’s placated demeanor; his kind were nothing new to her, but nevertheless a challenge in their own kind; DOMA would not show for a couple of Oni, oh no––these brigades were for her, and this hopped-up kindergarten cop could not be taken for a fool. She had heard of DOMA arresting metahumans, but never imagined they’d come to her… ready or not, something unpleasant would go down.

As the lieutenant prattled on, the energy beam-hit Oni began to rise and thread itself together, only to be decapitated three ways by Rapture’s bladed fans and done in with a final stomp, making blood fly and splatter across her face. Unfazed, the vigilante stood her ground.

Without wiping the residue away, Rapture answered blankly. “You would know if you had been there,” she hissed, stepping over the corpse and brandishing her innocent-looking fans, “if you weren’t too busy fucking with everyone’s affairs.”

This could skyrocket in anxiety and tension at any moment, but for now, there lay a strange, almost electric buzz in the air… and it wasn’t from Rapture nor Lt. Kristoff Makarov’s weapons. It was… heavy anticipation, unwanted discomfort, scintillating nervousness. In other words: Rapture’s type of playing field.

Nomad would sigh, she really wanted a fight, "On the contrary, we are here partially because of that. We came to Jump City because of these massive threats." He moved forward, always ready to spring into action. His anxiety began to skyrocket, causing his lightning to start hitting random targets. He knew this would escalate rapidly any second, "You really have no interest in talking to me, do you? You know if you don't talk to me, I have to take you in, and frankly I just want to talk without this getting ugly. So calm the fuck down." He subconsciously had a hand on his pistol.

“You best watch where you aim your lightning, government dog,” Rapture spat, yet instead of fire it was ice, a cool composition in an otherwise literally and metaphorically electrified environment, “best not lose your temper amongst all your friends, or they’ll throw you under the bus as you have with your fellow metahumans.”

Having been properly made aware of DOMA, she had already heard this name and it was not one that came with sullied clout –– the worst kind, and the most vulnerable. He had nothing on her, not with all his backup nor his abilities nor his authority. In her mind, Rapture was untouchable. As for a fight? Statistically, it would not end favorably with the massive outnumbering she faced. Still, information held promise. Not the information the lieutenant sought, for she knew it would never be enough. No, her knowledge of him would determine the winner of this battle… and she had just the warrior to exploit his weaknesses.

“Tsuyo,” she began cryptically. “Bōgyo. Osore.” As the prayer began, Rapture’s eyes began to turn an icy blue, and a strange blue-white mist enshrouded her body as her attire changed into that of an armored getup, complete with a traditional kimono waist bow, frosty locks, and blue tattoos that glowed forebodingly. “Akumo,” she continued, and an icy mist appeared around her as a set of enchanted brass knuckles appeared upon her hands and emanated dread, a complete disarming aura of suffocating fear. Should anyone come near her in this state, they would be bombarded by psychological torture of the most horrifying degree. Coming into contact with this infernal weapon would result in mental torment. And far be her transformation be over, a giant white tiger sauntered into view, teeth bared as Rapture completed her prayer. “Okāsan.”

Spoiler:

“You know, dog, telling someone to ‘calm the fuck down’ is one of the most ineffective way to to achieve that specific goal,” Rapture’s voice could freeze the air with its bitter cold. “I will demonstrate the proper way to subdue someone. But being the polite Japanese citizen I am, go ahead. Try me.”

••••

Translations:
Tsuyo = strength
Bõgyo = defense
Osore = fear
Akumo = nightmare
Okasān = mother

"Nomad to Big Brother, Situation has escalated. Class 3 threat. No need for back up." Nomad would look at the woman, more annoyed than scared, he had one hand palm up in a lazy fashion and the other on his hip. He looked more like a disappointed father than a government agent, "That was your last chance." Once again, the air filled with static electricity. Another KRAK as a bolt of lightning escaped his upturned hand, heading directly for the woman. It would be non-lethal, only the voltage of a standard taser. He did just want her for questioning after all.

PAPERS, PLEASE [ a summary ]

Rapture deflects the lightning by using a downed Oni as a meat shield and soon realizes that without backup of her own, she would not prevail. However, instead of retreating immediately, she pounds her nightmare knuckles together, sending a kinetic wave of both physical and psychological damage, sending a number of human DOMA agents into a panic-induced frenzy. Additionally, even the strongest of tanks are dented beyond repair, many weapons are rendered useless, and additional physical bodily harm. Having done so, Rapture retreats with the swiftness of the Golden Scorpion, taking a purposefully confusing route back to her underground bunker.

Back at the scene, a senior officer radioed command center. “Get the twins on this case. Send in Lock and Key.”