Teen Titans Legacy
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Teen Titans Legacy

A RPG (Role Playing Game) based shortly after the original Teen Titans TV series. Choose or create a character and get stuck in the action!
 
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PostSubject: An Angel Falls. {Private}   An Angel Falls. {Private} Icon_minitimeFri Jun 15, 2012 12:58 am

ooc:// This is a continuation thread between Bane and Black Valkyrie after Mr. Pacific's death.

◄◄◄◄

The Setting: Jump City's outskirting roads before heading to Jump City;
a very busy traffic place and an especially very bad place to have a little... erm, accident.
The Situation: After watching the former Night Hawks' Leader, Mr. Pacific, die,
Black Valkyrie was tasked to head the Night Hawks herself. Between having no choice but to carry out Pacific's final will and the fact that her timing and placing at the tragic scene made her look pretty bad.
This Roleplay's Mood Is Set By: "Micro Cuts", "Megalomania", and "Darkshines" by Muse.

Characters Appearing:
• Lucretia J. Faulkner / Black Valkyrie
(played by Honest)
• Jacky Vox De Luca / Bane (played by Bane)

►►►►

bic:// She sped.

She sped long, she sped hard, she sped faster than the urge to prove to everyone that she had not killed Mr. Pacific, she sped with more intensity than a Valkyrie through Hell had ever sped before, she sped past the roadblocks and defied her maker, defied its restrictions, limitations, and puppeteering hold.

Kree sped, seeing nothing and hearing everything––the motor of the engine heating and racing and hissing to keep up with the act of defiance, the acceleration of her taxed heart, the voice in her head that told her to quit, that told her to give in to divine domination. Kree sped, sped, sped, sped, sped, sped, sped, then hit the brakes on that voice, threw her arms against the billowing friction that occurs when air meets man-made fury, and just screamed. “I AM NOT AN ANGEL!” he screamed, she sped, she screamed and sped, and sped and laughed and screamed, “I AM NOT A VALKYRIE! I AM MY OWN AGENT! I WILL NOT BE TIED TO THIS BLOODY EARTH, HA HA!” she rejoiced, she pronounced, she allowed these glistening moments of freedom, these shining, rebellious ecstasies of liberation, “I’M NOT AN ANGEL ANYMORE! NOW I CAN FLY!”

Fly, fly, fly she did. Speed, speed, speed, she did. Screamed, rejoiced, pronounced, she did. This was the moment that the Lucretia J. Faulkner of 1272 realised just how wrong she had been all along. This was the moment that the Lucretia J. Faulkner of 1272 embraced her past and present and future, and just...

Let.
It.
Go.


Let herself be consumed in the world’s idea of who a person should not be and the scene’s rules for revelation: to believe in no regrets, no mistakes, but only extra chances to prove a doubter wrong. Ironically, yet twistedly true to defiance, the young woman whispered a prayer––one, last, holy prayer.

"Meus regnum venit. My kingdom comes. Amen.”

As her motorcycle––her own vessel of freedom––took through an underground tunnel. The present was siphoned in view, and the mad honking from drivers’ horns at the crazy, exhilarated motorist whipped carelessly past them. Getting her bearings while digging her feet into the ground laid by sanity, Kree instinctively commanded her arms to take back their own set of reigns. But just after everything seemed all good-to-go, including her future, it all came crashing down; there was... a light. At the end of the tunnel. Was it... a literal light at the end of a literal tunnel, or was it that metaphorical feel-good apparition that meant someone’s death was happening, but it was going to be a good one? For Kree, the last one hit hard as Fate retaliated and just dared her to defy it.

“No... no way...” Kree stuttered, “not... not now. Not now!”

Really?

It was that voice in her head that had told her to quit, that had told her to give in to divine domination just seconds ago. It was mocking her. She forced it out, she forced it away, but it persisted more and more and more as the light got closer and closer and closer:

Really? You think you can just up and ride away? You think you can outrace your own fate?

Kree was faltering, she was falling down as quickly as she had ascended to freedom, she was being challenged to challenge.

Three... two...

WHAM!

Black Valkyrie’s motorcycle collided with the oncoming Semi-truck. Her earthly body’s bones cracked under their own weight. The cars that had been jockeying for their own position in the speed force that was Jump City nighttime traffic suddenly halted to a harsh stop and stared. People did what people did best in the face of tragedy and panicked. The tunnel reacted, too, by serving as a perfect containment cell for catastrophe as vehicles, humans, metal, and immortality got bombarded by a hell-spun vertigo that wasn’t about to give out anytime soon.

The light blackened as bruised and blood replaced that warm nirvana, that holy sanctuary. Suddenly, Lucretia J. Faulkner was back at the entrance of the tunnel, experiencing what pain felt like when it wasn’t being opposed by divine intervention. A mangled mass of gore had been deposited back onto the road where it became another squashed bug on a windshield.

Black Valkyrie lay on the edges of the pavement just shy of that bloody tunnel, only she was vulnerable and incomplete, now... for now, her ivory helmet with golden wings lay more than twenty feet away from her already mangled grasp. If there had been a head in there seconds ago, it was now just a revolting stew of blood and brains and bone turned to powdered marrow... which was a good thing, because there hadn’t been; there never had been, and the physical proof was twenty feet away: a headless, beat-up, bloodied body that could only be described as one thing: indescribable. Then, that indescribable thing did an extraordinary and unbelievable thing...

...it picked itself up, dragged its broken legs across the ruby-stained gravel, and reached desperately for that d-mn helmet, clasped the insulated edges with its distorted fingers, and lurched it onto its headless neck, grabbed its kneecaps, and drew itself into fetal position just in case it might end up in the place where it started:

Dead.


Last edited by Honest on Mon Jun 25, 2012 3:06 am; edited 2 times in total
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PostSubject: Re: An Angel Falls. {Private}   An Angel Falls. {Private} Icon_minitimeSat Jun 16, 2012 4:12 am

What was supposed to be another boring day in the neighborhood, turned into an excruciating, unexplainable nightmare… all in a few short hours.

Bane was up early, and for what reason, she had no idea. Something was picking at her, almost as if it was infecting every inch of her being. The infection was also trying to tell her something, but for the life of her, she couldn’t focus long enough to understand its ramble. So instead of trying to understand it, she decided to ignore it, and that would be one of her biggest mistakes of the day.

A few hours later, Bane and her pet crow Loki, exited her quietly busy shop, and started walking. They had no real destination, no real reason why they were walking, just an insane mental infection and the wanting for a clear head.

Bane’s wandering had led her into the middle of some random and busy street way. Out of nowhere going as fast as freaking possible one of Jump City’s finest transportation vehicles, also known as a bus, was hurdling in her direction. Bane finally pulled out of her stupor long enough to see the bus coming straight at her, and she froze. No matter how hard she willed herself to move, she couldn’t. It wasn’t until Loki screamed and slammed into her did Bane finally get rolling. Now getting slammed by a small crow is one thing, but Loki being the size of a medium to large dog is another thing entirely.

Bane and Loki tumbled out of the center of the street and onto the sidewalk, landing at the feet of a very ancient looking man and his equally aged dog. The old man was decked out in a patched jacket, ragged pants, and holey shoes. His dog on the other hand was slim and black with the mass of grey around his muzzle, traveling down his chest, and ending at his feet. The man held out his hand and assisted Bane up; his grey eyes were filled with concern as she winced repeatedly. Loki, with his feathers all a fluff, shuffled over and rubbed her leg. Bane finally regained her sanity and control and thanked the man. She started walking away; while at the same time wrapping her wrist with a bandage and applying salve to Loki and hers’ horrendous road rash. After about a hundred yards, a sleek black car pulled up, Bane and Loki crawled inside, and greeted the handsome gentleman in the back.

Nico de Luca received a call from a longtime friend, detailing the near miss as well as the crash landing of his baby sister Jacky and her pet crow. Glancing at his clock, he moved to Jump City, and released the energy build up he had caused by basically teleporting. His driver picked him up at the precise location he had instructed and headed out to locate his baby sister.

Bane was in good condition seeing that she had almost been crushed by a bus and as luck would have it her brother Nico had picked her up. The first thing she felt was seething anger at her brother for being in Jump City at all, but that melted away when he took over bandaging her up. With a slight twist a long slice opened up on her arm and began to bleed like Niagara Falls, contaminating Nico’s snow white shirt with red blossoms. She glanced at him and immediately felt bad, “I’m sorry Nico… I…” Nico grinned at her and finished stitching her up. Bane was the true medic of the family, but over the years Nico had almost perfected his stitching with help from their other sister Scarlett and her various fights. “Its fine my dear, I’m just glad your ok.” As corny as that was, Bane felt total unconditional love radiating from her brother. The act of kindness was enough to make her tear up, so she buried her face into his chest and cried.

Even the hardcore have to cry sometimes.

Suddenly the driver hit his brakes causing Nico to firmly grasp Jacky and swear lightly. Nico’s face was so funny it caused Bane to start laughing. When she was done, she smiled at Nico, kissed him goodbye, and exited out the car with Loki and into the fray. As she turned a warm ripple of energy caressed her skin and Nico was gone…car, driver and all.

The screaming of people in pain, the smell of blood and people burning was enough to make someone wretch up everything they had eaten this morning and last night. Loki wandered over to burning carcass and started pecking at the poor fellow. Bane promptly reprimanded him and began evaluating the injuries and tallying the number of dead. She wasn’t really looking for the fellow with the worst injuries, Bane was looking for someone who truly needed her the most… or someone she could inflict the most good pain possible. At the end of the tunnel Bane found a person huddled up in the fetal position. From the way things looked, this was the fellow who had caused this mess. A mangled motorcycle was trapped to a semi, but the rider looked alright from a distance. However as she got closer, the riders injuries looked way worse.

Bane crept closer and closer until she was standing above the rider. “Congratulations dumbass you have now caused nine deaths, fourteen fractures of various kinds, and one headless rider to crash into a semi, going what, like ninety or something like that. So my dear headless rider, what the hell hurts?”
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PostSubject: Re: An Angel Falls. {Private}   An Angel Falls. {Private} Icon_minitimeMon Jun 25, 2012 2:52 am

As people went and people came from the disaster—both physically and spiritually—so did Kree's consciousness (or rather, lack of). One moment, the stench of burning flesh assaulted the scent sensors in Kree's helmet that informed her of what a certain scent was and how it would smell if she were to have a nose, then the next moment a total darkness would engulf her completely. Another moment, the light and sight transmitters were sending freakish, sporadic, and blinding images of fire, the deceased, and the garish blue-and-red signals from police and ambulance vehicles. Another blackout, and this time it stayed. It lingered, it weighed down the already thick atmospheric pressure that had been created like a swirling hurricane within the rider's helmet and put enormous amounts of pressure on the rest of her body. It was like unto being drowned in a vast ocean, right at the bottom of the sea floor where virtually no life could sustain itself.

Black Valkyrie had no clue what had just happened. One moment... a light, right? It was just too much to comprehend, and as she grabbed at the pungent air in a futile attempt to pull herself from the murky depths of pain, a new string of notes registered as a voice, a clear, distinct, and tangible voice. Unfortunately, the voice wasn't very pleasant nor was it comforting, like something you'd read in a Bible verse. Nope, this wasn't Heaven, unless the Higher Up had taken on the nasty habit of swearing.

“Congratulations dumbass you have now caused nine deaths, fourteen fractures of various kinds, and one headless rider to crash into a semi, going what, like ninety or something like that..."

...yep. Somehow, that semi had failed to kill the bug on its windshield that had caused all the other bugs to die.

"Ughhhhhh..." Kree groaned, starting to feel her insides churning as her body began catching on to the fact that she was in a great, big, ugly, bloody, MOUNTAIN of GORE. With a mere fraction of the speed of thought, that groggy groan had escalated into a panicked, shocked, shrieking of some sort---the kind of reaction you've been busted up, someone points that out to you, and all of a sudden you actually feel that you've been busted up. Words seemed like such a meaningless, trivial annoyance in comparison to the kind of agony that Kree was suffering. Compared to just under five minutes ago, the plunge from pure elation, euphoria, and ecstasy to a drowning mess of pitiable misery was such a huge smack in the face by reality that it was almost humourous how quickly Fate returned its pawn the big "EFF YOU!" she had carelessly spat in its face.

"So my dear headless rider, what the hell hurts?”

Everything... EVERYTHING hurt! What didn't hurt? Black Valkyrie had just committed involuntary manslaughter to the ninth power right after she was innocently trying to escape a possible conviction that she had killed Mr. Pacific, not to mention that---if this "voice" was completely truthful---there very well might be more deaths on top of those!

'Mr. Pacific.' Kree remembered amongst all this confusion. "I... I need to... to..." The Headless Rider managed to mutter, "The Night Hawks... I... I need to find... The Night Haw........."

But before she could finish, Kree passed out, cold.
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PostSubject: Re: An Angel Falls. {Private}   An Angel Falls. {Private} Icon_minitimeSat Jul 07, 2012 3:43 am

Bane studied her newest acquired patient with the ferocious gaze a hyena has at potential food and waited for the rider to tell her something useful, and that she did. The rider managed to spit out a handful of words, some of which registered some kind of emotion from within Bane. You’ve got to understand that Bane isn’t some heartless monster from the deepest darkest pits of hell or anything like that. She sincerely has a compassionate side to her, but that was only when she could spare the energy. The rest of the time was spent fighting against the odds of life stacked up against her and her family, combined with the necessary energy needed to take care of the Night Hawks as well as run a healthy shop, topped with the endless energy needed to fight her own damn demons, Bane had no time to be an over caring, over compassionate doctor that everyone loves. She just doesn’t have the damn energy needed to do it. But the fact that this headless rider, now out cold in the street, needed to find the Night Hawks was as much of a sign as Bane could ask for. This led to Bane wondering why the rider needed to find the Night Hawks, and what had happened to Pacific…

However, since the rider was in fact passed out cold in the street, Bane needed to find transportation and quickly, or her future patient was going to die most likely of blood loss. Nico had left in his usual warm rippling way, and she knew she couldn’t call him back because this was her problem, her world, and she was going to have to move this idiot one way or another.

Loki had wandered off while Bane was studying the mess of what he thought was a person, but got bored so he returned to Bane and tried to think of a way to move the mess without damaging it any farther. Bane looked exhausted to Loki, and he knew that she wasn’t in the clearest of minds right now, but was more or less running on whatever makes people run. What? Loki didn’t know why people did what they did, he was crow. But he was a very intelligent crow and was able to think of a hopefully good solution. Loki moved next to Bane and rubbed her leg; she looked down and he gave a sweeping bow. His beak touched the blood soaked pavement and he looked up and smiled charmingly.

Bane was startled by Loki rubbing her leg and looked down. He was… bowing? Loki… a crow… bowing… gentlemanly… who else runs like that… of course! She grinned at Loki and patted his head. Breathing deeply, she pulled out her cell phone and called the only man she knew who would ask questions, but tell no one except his closest friend, who happened to be Bane’s closest accomplice in everything she did. Bane called Crow.

Ten minutes later Crow pulled up in a sweet looking Jeep packed with some necessary supplies he had picked up from her shop. Since she knew he had a spot for problems and competition, Bane gave him exactly what she wanted, how much of it, and how long he had. Crow being the competitor that he was, completed his task faster than any person, meta or normal, ever could. He smiled as he walked up with a box containing Bane’s purest heroin, a massive sheet thing, and two folded poles which he pulled out and snapped into place. Bane gave the unconscious rider a good sized dose of heroin for the pain, while Loki helped Crow unfold and tie the sheet thing to the equally spaced out poles. Then Crow and Bane slowly unfolded the rider and quickly moved, what Bane was thinking was a female, onto the sheet. They picked up the two poles and carried the make shift stretcher into the Jeep, which happened to be specifically tailored for carrying injured soldiers overseas. How Crow came to own one, was beyond Bane, but the fact he had procured one was a good sign to her. Bane looked around one more time, and decided that she really didn’t care what happened to everyone else, but because she was some sort of doctor she called dispatch and informed them of the casualties and injuries she had noted thus far. Feeling better, she climbed into the passenger’s seat, and let Crow drive her home. Loki sat in the back with the rider and kept her as still as possible.

Crow glanced over at Bane and wondered who the headless broad was in the back seat. He really didn’t care and it wasn’t important to him, but Bane had called him so that made it important to her and anything important to any of the De Lucas’ was to be of some importance to Crow. They pulled up finally behind the shop and he helped Bane unload the bleeding passenger into the shop and onto the operating table. He picked up the blood stained stretcher and dismantled it. Then he stashed the poles back where he found them and placed the sheet into the washer. Setting the washing times, he wandered back into the operating room and sat down on a stool. Finally he formed his question he had wanted to ask and asked it. “Why did you call me Jacky?” Yep, Crow didn’t care what had previously transpired, he was more interested in why he had been called.

Bane was stripping the rider bare when Crow came back from cleaning up. So it was a she, Bane covered the lower portion of the rider for modesty until Morgan left, if he ever did. Without even looking at him she started adjusting bones right and left while answering his question, “I called you Morgan because you were the only man I trusted in Jump City at this precise moment. I didn’t call either of my siblings because it doesn’t concern them, the way Jump works that is. You however thrive off of the necessary evils of the world, and I happened to know that you planned on stopping by at some point, so I only hurried along the process.” After each readjustment, she stitched and or cleaned the area thoroughly, then wrapped it with special fabric she had learned how to create from a monk in China. The fabric was exactly like a cast, only much lighter and twice as effective. The rider’s hands, arms, feet, legs and thighs were completely wrapped. The body cavity was going to require much more work than a simple wrapping could provide. She looked up at Morgan and asked, “Are you going to help, stare, or leave?”

After almost 19 hours of nonstop work, Bane with some help from Crow finally finished repairing the rider. The body cavity had been a freaking nightmare. Almost every organ had been severely damaged in some way, and all of them required stitching and gentle coaxing into decent shape. Bane was a witch doctor of sorts, and using Crow’s other world experience, they were able to get all of the organs properly functioning again, and was also able to reroute copious amounts of bruising into areas Bane could heal easier, like the previously casted areas. With the stitching and bruising came multiple bleeders that required specific plants and packets to contain, followed by continuous blood transfusions. That was only the tip of the iceberg, but after 19 hours they had fixed every possible problem there was and finished up by stitching up the multiple spots on the thoracic cavity and fabric wrapped the entire body again, from head to foot. Well neck to foot that is. They lastly moved the rider onto a bed similar to ones in hospitals. Bane gave only final look and collapsed from sheer exhaustion into Crow’s arms. He placed her in the real bed next door to the patient’s room and left her curled up with Loki and went to sleep in the chair beside her.

A day and a half later Bane woke to the smell of fresh coffee. Roaming into the kitchen she found Morgan making himself and Loki a sandwich. She grinned at both of them, grabbed a cup of coffee as well as a massive bowl of Lucky Charms, and walked back into the patient’s room. On her way she glanced into the operating room, snagged the busted up helmet they had brought with them and decided to clean the room later. Bane sat down, placed the helmet on the table next to the rider and started munchin away on her hard earned cereal and coffee.
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PostSubject: Re: An Angel Falls. {Private}   An Angel Falls. {Private} Icon_minitimeSun Jul 15, 2012 10:49 pm

OOC:// HOLY FREAKING HIDDLESTON'S SEXINESS AND EQUESTRIAN LOVEMAKING. I'M SO SORRY THIS HAS TAKEN SO FRAKKING LONG! ;~; I'M SO SORRY, BANE! FORGIVE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Spoiler:

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Ba-thump, ba-thump. Ba-thump, ba-thump.
Flhhhhhhhhhhhhh, huhhhhhhhhhhhhhhn.
Stttttttttttttrp! Sttttttttttttttttttrp!
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep beeeeeeeeeep.
Beep, beep, beep, beep.
Ba-dah dah dah dah dah dah.
Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring!


Sounds are miraculous, strange, and freaky things. Imagine drifting out of a deep, soporific, hibernate rest––calm, cool, relaxing, peaceful. Now imagine that same sleep with all sorts of annoying, repetitive, random, blaring, loud, obnoxious, prickly, ugly, hypnotic, rhyming, chaotic, cacophonous, beasty little noises. Take that and imagine those noises not in your head, but in your body, as if the noises were physical invaders that were running about and into your body like old ladies testing out their new Hover-Round Power Chair™ from The Scooter Store. Nasty, huh?

Welcome to what it feels like to be headless and busted-up so brutally that your bones are almost powdered. Welcome to Black Valkyrie’s world.

To literally feel sounds in your body sounds like an effect of Ecstasy or Shrooms or LSD. These “experiences” can also be described as “hearing colors” or “seeing sounds.” Again, welcome to Kree’s world. But to be directly shot up with Heroin when you’re already constantly tripped up anyway without actually wanting to be? That’s just messed up. Then again, the apothecarist known as “Bane” did not use conventional methods to treat pain, and she certainly saw no problem about using Heroin as a pain killer. Yeah, it wasn’t normal, but neither were the sentient beings present in Bane’s Shop of Wonders and Hell-(maybe)-Knows-What-Else. Motley crew they made, though: a mystical medicine woman, a giant talking crow, another mystical something-or-other that looks relatively human, and then there’s that severed body sitting––er, lying––on the bed that’s more-or-less an incomplete stuffed mummy for Halloween. However, usually stuffed mummies don’t move, especially if they’re incomplete... especially because it’s their head that’s missing.

But no, no; none of this was “weird” to anyone, especially to Bane, except for mummy dummy... who had a name... and a mission... and one Hell of a jacked-up fist fight with “God” or whatever name or names or no name(s) at all one chooses to call it. Anyhow... mummy dummy was probably frightened more than any average dude after seeing a pink, rabid, squirrel shoot lasers out of its vertically-lidded eyes that had only moments ago seems oh-so-cute-and-cuddly. Actually, Kree was feeling more than that; she was terrified, and it showed by the way her body suddenly shivered, and the room was filled with the sound of a hypersensitive scream that could be heard not physically, but instead inside each person’s head.

“WHERE IS MY HEAD!? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY HEAD? FORGET YOUR TASKS AND YOUR LOST MIND! SPRING UP, MAKE HASTE, MY HEAD YOU’LL FIND!”

The deafening wail exceeded humanly tolerable comfort, a purposeful measure to instill the fear of a seven century-aged ghostly being that dealt with no mere, peevish mortal wants and wishes. Its owner now stood over the makeshift hospital bed as a thick, dark, freezing, wispy, choking fog puffed from the trunk of its headless neck. Bandaged arm and broken hand outstretched, Black Valkyrie tried to locate her helmet using the strong telepathic link her spiritual energy and its intricate paranormal detectors shared, but no signal––technological or otherwise––could be detected even though the helmet lay a mere yard away. This was completely abnormal; it had always been only a literal manner of seconds before the tracking could be completed. Starting to lose her cool, Kree shot one last warning.

“HAND ME MY HEAD OR HAND ME YOUR LIFE!”

She meant it, too. And she was capable of it; with Bane’s ‘home remedies’ and the very last threads of immortality that had been bestowed to her as a rite of a Valkyrie, the young woman boasted prime physical physique. Coupled that with seven-hundred-plus years of fighting experience and you get a would-be-battle that puts a whole new meaning to the old idiom, “madder than a bull in a china shop.”

“NOW.”
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PostSubject: Re: An Angel Falls. {Private}   An Angel Falls. {Private} Icon_minitimeFri Jul 20, 2012 3:00 pm

Ooc: Hahaha I love your Total Drama reference! Now it’s my apologises for being late. Work and whatnot. Lovers You!

Bic:

Bane had long finished up her bowl of Lucky Charms and was more or less zoning in and out. She was recalling the multiple things that required her attention and was then trying to organize them in some sort of fashion. It wasn’t going well, seeing that taking care of the headless rider had taken longer than planned, Bane was a few days behind now in almost everything. As she moved from jobs to do, and onto things she needed to buy, a scream filled her head. The piercing noise was so startlingly to poor Bane, that she dropped her empty bowl on the ground, and it smashed into a thousand little pieces. But oddly enough, Bane herself hadn’t physically moved from her comfy seat. Her first thought was that her sister was having yet another meltdown and required assistance, but that changed when the headless rider’s body spewed some sort of fog, and pointed at its broken helmet next to Bane. Then the fog proceeded to make demands and or threats, Bane wasn’t sure which. She fidgeted into a more comfy postition and did exactly the opposite of what the rider wanted, Bane didn’t move an inch. Not at the helmet, at the outrageous demands, or at the sound of Loki wandering in with a broom to clean up her mess.

Crow on the other hand, who had by now finished his first sandwich and was demolishing his second, jumped at the extremely loud scream in his head and almost dropped his sandwich. He swiftly regained his composure, gracefully entered the patient’s room, and finished off his food. Crow glanced over at Bane and moved closer to her, while posing a question at the same time.”Are you alright Jacky? What the hell was that?”

Bane finally moved to pet Loki on the head and thank him for cleaning up the mess; he gave a slight warble and went back into the kitchen. She then registered Crow’s question and responded in a highly sarcastic tone about their patient. “That extremllyyyy obnoxious noise was our dearest patient who has finally woken up from her drug induced coma. She’s making her immediate demands, and agrees to release one hostage if they are met… Well not really, but she is being a wench, nothing I can’t handle. I know Sam is probably looking for you by now, why don’t you head home and I’ll call you later with an update?”

Crow started laughing at Bane’s belittlement of their patient and then decided she was right. Sam would be looking for him, and he was still hungry. Maybe she would be making breakfast by now. The thought of more food, cooked by his favorite person overrode his worries about Bane and the rider. “I’ll right, that sounds like a plan. Give me a call if you need anything alright? Crow then took a gentlemanly bow and left.

Bane returned her attention to the demanding rider and decided to respond in the same tone and attitude the rider was. Why don’t you sit your broken ass down and ask me politely. You see you’re the patient here and I’m the doctor, which means if you want to every properly walk or ride another bike again you’ll show me some friggin respect and we’ll go from there. How does that sound Wench? Bane had little to no tolerance for attitude out of patients right now, she was still so very tired and irritable.
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An Angel Falls. {Private} Empty
PostSubject: Re: An Angel Falls. {Private}   An Angel Falls. {Private} Icon_minitimeMon Jul 23, 2012 11:00 pm

“How DARE you condescend me, mortal? Puny terran, just give me my head back and I’ll be on my ‘merry freaking way,’ as you’d say!”

Without her helmet, Black Valkyrie’s sense of sight, hearing, and smell were rendered nearly useless. Normally, this wouldn’t be such a problem if there wasn’t some paranormal, trippy, signals canceling any and all connections between the Dullahan and her makeshift head. That’s one reason why it was so vital that she got it back... that, and it would make beating the tar out of whoever this smart-ass girl was.

Speaking thus, who did this girl think she was? What gave her the heavenly, divine right to intervene with the death of an agent of the Higher Power? Apparently, He had been intent on killing his rebellious Valkyrie; this was evident by the way he ran a semi-truck into her, therefore splattering the woman across the pavement like a flying bug’s flattened frame on a windshield. Now someone had desired to grab the fly swatter and scrape up ‘The Headless Wonder?’ What was this? The Age of Chivalry? No; it was the year 2012, and people didn’t go about like the Good Samaritan by taking in physically traumatized roadkill. Something was up.

Memories of what had even happened evaded any of Black Valkyrie’s cognitive recognitions, and it sucked. Her current predicament reminded Kree of the day her head got chopped off by some looney, British soldiers. Sure, it wasn’t their intent to decapitate the young woman initially; they had been trying to cut and eat her heart out because some old Native American dude told them that if they did, they would live forever. Clearly, her captor (or captors; Kree hadn’t been able to get a head count) were either just plain stupid or inadvertently mentally handicapped if they thought they could pull the sin off by stealing her new “head”––the helmet. ’Idiots,’ she silently snarled, ’they go to all this trouble of playing doctor and fixing me all up? We’re not in an episode of 'Game of Thrones' or the movie 'Stardust' where some whack-job witch is trying to get a pretty girl to the height of health and happiness in order to rack up a really plump, throbbing, blood-filled plate of heart. Besides that’s just plain disgusting.’

Yup. Complete whack job. ’Just my luck,’ her mind assessed, ’If God can’t get to me, he’s going to send a psychopath to do the job. Christ, I already have to babysit a team of would-be superheroes, prove that I didn’t kill their leader, and most likely face trial for involuntary manslaughter on nine counts. And now, I’m totally mortal! I have no immortality left in a single fragment of my being.’

“You have no grounds for keeping me here. Hand over my head, and I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you my heart, but you can’t have it until I’ve found someone who can serve as the warrior I’m supposed to bring back to Heaven. It’s a religious thing, and I don’t expect you to understand it, for you are weak and your are built so simply––trust me, I was one of you once upon about seven centuries ago,”
Black Valkyrie said flatly yet begrudgingly; she wasn’t one for lying and deceit, but she’d make an exception to her moral compass for this creep, “a head for a heart. Do we have a deal?”
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