Lugar de Morte - Superhero RP

The dark door slides open, letting in the bright light of noonday.

The landing pad for the helicopter was sleek and smooth, showing off a plethora of decorative modern touches to the aesthetic of what was ultimately a square with a symbol on it. The three-bladed helicopter was equally impressive-looking, looming over the landing pad with a size seemingly too big to get in the air.

The massive structure past the landing pad looked like a colossal hotel with a number of exquisite features in its design, emphasizing its architectural superiority to other hotels. But not much of the structure could be gleamed beyond its initial appearance, because your attention had been drawn by the six masked security guards in formation, hands behind their backs, while a figure approached from the center of their line, stopped, and help his hands outwards, gesturing to the land around him.

“Welcome to Mansão Enganoso.”


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@Chronicler @Cordax @TheMOCingbird @ajtazt @MakutaOisli

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Veronica looked rather… unimpressed with the entire display. She knew what was going on. She had gone through it for the past month, after federal agents had captured her. All the same, utter bull they would pull to make the patient feel safe and comfortable, and then the grey sterile rooms and metallic clanking would follow next.

She also noticed how many flammable objects were in the area. The gasoline looked fun. She, quite literally, had to keep her cool here. Not that she could do much, as the agents placed a dampening device on her hands and covered her in a kevlar jumpsuit. The only thing exposed was her head, which at the moment was not on fire. She was half-tempted to make it that way, if only to obscure her facial features from the cameras that were no doubt watching them.

What truly disturbed her was when she looked around and found other individuals with her. A middle aged man, a young man, and a man covered head to toe. There was also someone that appeared to be partially crippled. That was the most disturbing of all.

My lord, she thought. Am I not the only one who got roped into this? Her thoughts raced to the fact that, though she was rigorously trained for stressful situations and physically demanding tasks as an astronaut, she was still terrified for what was to come. And now she knew other people, likely less trained than her, were coming along?

Veronica took this moment to reply coolly, not even looking at the man but instead fiddling with the restraints on her hands. “That name does not make me feel any better.”

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Wen was… well, here, at least. He was absolutely mad that the agents took away his respirator, as his wheezing breaths that it silenced were constantly a reminder of a 12 year old lung wound, amplified by the constant clicking and clacking of his mandibles. They couldn’t find something to cover his claw though, and his prosthetic left arm didn’t really need to be on in the first place, but alas, it all did annoy him.
He did know, the amount of garbage that this place was going to feed everyone, a hook of lies tied to a line of comforts controlled by nothing but money-grubbing officials.

Alright, Wen, some people here are going to be friends, others enemies. Alot of the people here are in a near same situation as you, except they can talk alot better than you.

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Lucius was asleep.

Most helicopters are loud enough that it would wake screamo fans, even while riding inside. But here, hopefully with aid of hearing protection, Lucius was limp in sleep, only remaining seated thanks to safety belts. As one of his idols would describe it, his brain decided he had done enough stupid and it was time to stop. The outside induced naptime was just the perfect opportunity the brain needed to instigate some much needed rest.

Yet neither Lucius nor his slightly smarter subconscious would get to enjoy this for much longer. The white noise was gone and the sun rudely invaded the space, making him stir. Not fast enough, however, as someone undoes the belts so the floor can wake him up. Causing him to exclaim a cartoonish cry of pain before remembering neither his desk or keyboard were made of metal. Confusion taking him before being pushed out the helicopter and forced to take in the scene around him.

“Welcome to Mansão Enganoso.” Something said.

In his waking fog Lucius responded with, “No speak inglés.”

He pauses, his eyes twisting into confusion before uttering, “Wait, no, blast! No hablo español.”

Failing Spanish seems to finally jolt him awake enough, the shapes and scene make more sense. There was an awesome looking hotel, some really well dressed employees, and they gave a foreign sounding name, all of which could only mean one thing – he won a tropical vacation!

. . .

Wait, no, that’s not right. Where’s mister-

Then the words of someone else finally processed, the name not feeling well. Or, well, something like that. She certainly had a fun outfit. It was a “she,” right? The others were…okay, maybe not vacation. Must be some challenge, why else is everyone dressed like this?

“Uh so when does the challenge start?” He asked, trying to shuffle around to find his phone. “And the rules…am I supposed to be here?”

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There was a brief moment of silence as the figure before the group looked over them with an air of discontent.

He was a tall man with wide shoulders and a powerful frame, clean shaven with a strong jaw. He appeared to be older than forty, and his shaved head seemed to confirm that age with the subtle silver stubs of hair attempting to regrow. His hooked nose supported his square glasses, and his large mouth was fixed in a lipless smile in spite of his disappointment.

“The only challenge is me not severely reprimanding my staff for this.” He replied, pointing two fingers at Veronica. His hand tipped back from what seemed to be imaginary recoil, and a neatly-shaped hole appeared with the resulting bang of metal being violently relocated in the dampening device on her wrists. The mechanism keeping it fastened appeared to no longer exist, and would likely fall off if she gave it minimal force.

“I’m not a very good public speaker, so I’ll try and keep things brief here.” he continued, his arms folding behind his back as a little bit of German slipped into his otherwise mellow British accent. “My name is Maximillian Huber, Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine. I am a widower of eighteen years and I have no children. You all have ended up in a very similar situation to myself - your governments are trying to exploit you for your unique capabilities.”

“Several years ago I was involved in an accident of unknown origin, and am now capable of some rather interesting feats.” Max Huber continued, the occasional pause mid sentence as his eyes traveled, as if to catch the next word out of the air. “To make a longer story much shorter, my government tried to manipulate my unfortunate circumstances into being used as a weapon, with no details or choice, and I twisted arms and pulled legs long enough to get my ideas heard.”

“An island, owned by everyone and no one. Permission to work for any connected government if you desire to, but otherwise you have ultimate diplomatic freedom here. To rest, to recover, to grow in whatever capacity you desire.” His smile seemed to freeze like stone on his face.

“When you are all ready, we may begin the tour.”

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Veronica was surprised to see the restraints fall of so easily. Finally, some proper freedom after weeks of being restrained in one way or another. (The worst one for her was the ice bath cell.) Of course, with the restraints off, what was stopping her from-?

No, no. Burning people was what got her here in the first place, though it was an accident the first time. Still the prospect of escape had been on her mind for a long time…

…And this barely changed it. True, she had freedom to choose her controlling overlord, but that did not change the fact that she wanted to return to her family and friends.

The darkness and heaviness of the planet returned to her for a moment. The pressure was building in her chest of when she was alone, her fellow astronauts dead, and nothing but the toxic and hot surface starting to burn through her spacesuit.

She starts to think she would have preferred to die there, if she knew she was going to be used as a weapon. Though she was bothered; why did she survive, and not anyone else? Her thoughts were interrupted by Max’s statement.

Veronica nodded. “I’m ready. But before we go, do you have any gloves I can use? I don’t want to touch something and start a fire by accident.”

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Wen tried to speak, but what came out were only gargled words and clicking.

Dr. Huber snapped his fingers and looked slightly towards the guard on his left. “O senhor! Traga umas luvas à mulher.” The guard snapped to a tight salute and immediately walked away.

“My apologies, sir.” Dr. Huber’s smile returned. “Part of your personal belongings included a specialized mask from the United States, which had to be inspected for listening devices. I am afraid our friends in the American continent ironically disapprove of the freedom of choice we offer here, and frequently try to prevent individuals from seeking livelihoods aside from military engagement.”

The guard had returned, bearing with him a pair of black gloves which prompted a confused accusation from Dr. Huber. The two continued to discuss in portugese for a moment, with the doctor relenting with a slight shrug and a tiny tilt of his head, indicating for the guard to hand the gloves over to Veronica.

“Those gloves should be able to withstand a bit more than fire.” He smiled again. “As for you sir, your mask will be returned soon. If we are ready, you may follow me as we explore the grounds.”

The doctor did a precise about face and began marching away from the landing pad, with the guards reforming to either side of the entrance to allow the group to pass.

@Chronicler @Cordax @TheMOCingbird @ajtazt @MakutaOisli

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Veronica followed, slipping the gloves on her hands. The slight friction was still enough for her to feel the heat on her hands, but the gloves stopped flames from erupting.

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It was also personally modified. Wen thought as he walked with the others

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All this new info swirled around in his head, flushing down and out into the ocean. He just stood there, perpetual confusion etched into his face. Lucius liked to think he wasn’t gullible or that easily tricked but…what did this all mean? He had to think this out loud…er, mentally so. Don’t want to get in more trouble.

Alright, slow down. Remember what happened when you binged through fifty tutorial videos in a couple hours? That right, you don’t, you forgot everything. Okay, okay, this will probably be fine. Remember what you did last. . .

I woke up, streamed, slept, woke up, and found myself here. This is not the sweepstakes or mister billion’s million dollar challenge. I probably would have seen an email and there would be paper work. So probably not a gameshow or surprise collab, no forms or…friendly attitudes. Or the awkward meet’n greet either, it’s more…terrifying? Eh NO! Be brave! Like on video!

Right, focus! . . .So a government - multiple? - has captured us to be weapons. I guess that’s the less stupid and simple answer. Hey Mom, I’ve been kidnapped by the Government! They think I’m worth something! Aren’t you proud?!

…eh, on second thought this is a surprise collab. Where else did they get such fancy custom prosthetics. The guy is really into his role. Hey, maybe this gig can pay off that bill! I can–

Lucius frozen body breaks free when Dr. Huber says the tour will begin and everyone starts moving. He takes a step forward sheepishly, then stops, and brings up his left hand for inspection. After staring at it for a second, it visibly vibrates before turning a solid blue. He gives a surprised grimace and closes his eyes, causing the hand to return to normal. With a little more pep, he follows for the tour.

So it wasn’t a stress hallucination. Great.

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Wen looked at Lucius, before clicking and gargling towards him, trying to get his attention.

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Silas looked around, taking in the sights around him. As he always did. All the time.

There was a woman who was wearing, something, though he wasn’t sure what. A guy with a bug face, and hey, at least the other two seemed fairly normal. Though who wears a scarf in this kind of weather?

Silas stayed quiet on the ride there, and stayed quiet getting out of the chopper. The past month had been a blur, first the crash, then what felt like nothing, then the government, now whatever this was. But at least he was here, he could be thankful for that. Plus, by the look of the hotel thingy, here didn’t seem like that bad of a place to be. But still, best to stay vigilant, keep those skills he’d been learning sharp. He gave the guards a passing glance, studying their equipment: what weapons were they carrying, and where? His attention flicked to the man greeting them.

Interesting. Some sort of metal manipulation, or maybe an invisible weapon? Either way, odd, but oddities are probably to be expected around here, aren’t they.

Silas gave a nod, and followed with an unremarkable stride, hands in his pockets. He would seems fairly normal from the outside, though if one were paying enough attention, they’d soon find his head and eye movements rather erratic as he scanned the surroundings.

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When Lucius opened his eyes, he may have noticed all the guards were now facing him.

Dr. Huber stopped, noticing the behavior of the guards, and turned back to look at Lucius. His curiousity turned into his usual smile, and he quickly raised and lowered his hand, prompting the guards to return to their positions.

“Sir, I must confess I find your particular capability to be fantastic.” He looked as if he was trying to stop himself from spontaneously entering a sweeping bow. “And I am most impressed by the ease which you access it. But the guards here, they work with a lot of people who could seriously hurt someone accidentally, and they are touchy because of it.”

“The time will come when you may use your abilities as much as you desire, but for now, friends, I must ask that you be patient.” He swiveled about at each of the other party members with the same smile before turning back down the path.

Veronica could not help but think of herself. These powers have been nothing but pain and misery since she had gained them. She remembered when she first exited the space vessel when landing back on earth, how her body spontaneously combusted and injured the police and reporters. While she has learned some more control over these abilities (for instance, her head was no longer on fire), she knew that the guards would not hesitate for a moment if an eruption happened again.

She noticed the strange looks the other subjects had given her: both for her uniform and her red-tinted skin, no doubt. Veronica had been aware she had taken a more alien appearance since her trip to Venus. This being her first contact with people not from the government, she desired to know what people actually thought. What she got in response was visible stares of people looking as if she was something completely foreign.

And the man with clicking mandibles and a claw is not? she thought to herself.

When looking at Wen, she would have a chill run down her spine. (One of the few times recently she could feel cold!) She had thought extra-terrestrial travel and her experiences were frightening. So to see something so… horrific on earth was the exact opposite of comforting.

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Powers? More like mutations. There had been nothing that the agents hadn’t done, the only reason they hadn’t taken Wen apart was because of the law. Otherwise, they would come up with any sob story to have their scientists take him to pieces.

Veronica’s look told Wen that she unnerved, to say the least.
He took a deep breath, and, through an awful amount of clicking and gargling, was finally able to say something: “Are…clik… you… clik…alright?”

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Lucius gives an awkward, “Uh, hi?” when he finds the guards facing him. The gargling of the impressively costumed Wen didn’t make it any less sheepish. Though he had no idea how he should have react, genuine or otherwise, to the doctor’s statements.

For the sake of not appearing too dim gives a quick, “Thanks. I think?” Adding in a quieter and muddle tone, “Is it supposed to be hard?

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“I might ask the same about you,” Veronica replied. “What happened to you? Did They experiment on you too? Are there any others like you?”

Wen tried to gargle out more words, but only clicks came out.

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Veronica realized that perhaps this was not the best line of questioning. She let the matter hang, and returned to paying attention to Dr. Huber.

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