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Gunther
2012-08-13, 01:32 AM
"This is Amy Wok, live at the perimeter of the latest development. Shocking report, just now filing in in-- Desolate prison under siege! As of twenty minutes ago, internet and radio traffic was flooded with information pertaining to an assault on Seattle's very own superhuman supermax penitentiary!"

The heart-faced Asian reporter so intricately known to most of Seattle had a very cunningly crafted expression of shock and curiosity written across her features, features that were being projected in multiple dimensions from the holographic projector mounted in the room. It was but one of many video feeds and live streams available, albeit the only one with active audio.

"The current status of the attackers is unknown, but Seattle's VIPR team-- as well as a contingent of the Homeland Security department's own counter-terrorism task force-- have been deployed at the outskirts of the devastation. Reports have it that a Vertihawk transport was potentially used in the incident. Our local news team was unable to get a live feed of the devastation due to reports of a potential sniper in the area. Satellite imagery from the Seattle News Network's own orbital relay, however, can help provide you-- our faithful viewer-- with an idea of the situation at hand."

The image shifted to show a satellite feed over the exterior of Desolate prison. Having been built into the remnants of a deep core radioactive material storage facility, the prison's above-ground complex had been reduced to what looked like an urban war zone. A pair of Vertihawks, the VTOL of choice for the Seattle Police Department, had seemingly entangled with one another in a fiery embrace before creating a twenty-yard-long gouge in the concrete streets of the walled-in facility. The front gates, massive thirty-meter-high reinforced titanium doors, had been blasted clean off their hinges on impact. The concrete gatehouse around those doors had crumbled almost effortlessly, leaving a pile of rubble atop the fallen doors. The entire front wall of the facility, some one hundred and twenty feet tall and designed in a fashion reminiscent of a dam, had cracked in places from the detonation. In the right-hand corner of the image was the date: August 3rd, 2099. A day that, for better or worse, would live on in future infamy.

A little data feed, provided by the helpful analysis applications in the computer, presented the highest probability reason (95.6% probability, anyways) for such devastation: A Vertihawk, with a full tank of fuel and four hundred pounds of RDX in the cargo hold rigged to a remote detonator, could have served as a 'Jihad Jet' capable of easily blowing the doors off their reinforced hinges, never mind the damage to the concrete surrounding the detonation site. The crenelated towers

Even now, the open-air courtyard of the prison was a catastrophe. Several dozen dead guards, their gold and black armor, were sprawled out across the paved streets between buildings. Most of them were clustered around the crash site, but groups of dead men could be seen here or there. Towards the middle of the above-ground facility, in the center of an intersection of four pyramid-shaped office arcologies, the lone access shaft to Desolate could be seen. Sixty meters in diameter and piercing into the Earth's crust six kilometers deep, the one and only way into the subterranean prison known as Desolate Penitentiary was currently under heavy guard. A massive main battle tank-- a positively towering vehicle composed of steel and tungsten alloys and proudly displaying its primary cannon (a railgun of no small potency)-- currently stood guard over the circular platform that led down to the base's interior. If anything, it seemed like it had been delivered from that facility, alongside the escort group of gold-and-red armored security guards in full powered armor. Military grade powered armor, even. Bulky drum-fed machine guns were clutched in their arms as both tank and man alike focused their attention on the office building to the southwest of the entry gate.

"The attacker, or attackers, is reported to be pinned down in one of the primary control towers overseeing the prison. The on-site anti-air defenses, designed to keep an aerial assault from successfully penetrating the prison's airspace, are now working against the very people meant to rescue it! Ground teams have begun to move up, albeit keeping their distance due to fear for the lives of the workers held hostage inside." Amy's voice intoned, the camera image fading away as it returned to a live camera feed of the Asian reporter, her face looking stern and serious as a pair of police APCs rolled by in the background. Their reinforced bodies, carried aloft by six sets of puncture proof and high-traction tires, thundered across the urban street. Flashers shone with a brilliant light as the holographic acronym "SWAT" was projected over the exterior plating in urgently flickering orange letters.

"There are no active reports at this time of how many hostages are present at this time. Desolate Penitentiary's press staff have reported that it is on a maximum-security lockdown at the moment, pending intervention from rapid response teams and its own elite paramilitary staff. The Guild of Heroes has made no mention of any potential involvement on its part, but if recent events are any indicator, silence may very well prove to be an indicator of impending intervention from its up-and-coming heroes. As I'm sure our viewers very well remember during the hostage situation at the Gentek clinic last week, the Guild of Heroes ended up having one of their teams-- an up-and-coming group of heroes and heroines-- arrive on-scene to intervene. The ensuing sixteen point five million dollars in damage, and an estimated thirteen deaths of both hostages and hostage takers, put a heavy toll on both the city and the popular image of an organization already clouded in scandal."

"Thanks, Amy." The web anchor's voice cut in, the audio fading back as the feed reduced the size of its display automatically. The relevant video of Desolate was gone, and that was that. "In other news, genetic therapy, is it safe for your kids? A recent study from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology indicated..."

The situation seemed fairly straightforward in Desolate, considering the utter lack of information held by both yourselves and law enforcement. As you all sit upon the comfortable couches of the executive office area, an area that sat, soundproof, over the fiery and nightmarish factory of the steel mill, you would all come to enjoy the fruits of your labors to this point. All of you have an interest in, or share of, the steel mill operating even now below you. A facade, mostly, enabling you all to meet here in absolute secrecy and absolute privacy.

One such fruit of your labors was the massive holographic projector in the center of the room. Buzzing consistently, the machine would project a light blue-tinted sphere in the middle of the room. A tint that could be changed at will, of course, but for now remained in its factory default. That sphere was a web of various articles and video streams, ranging from video from the perpetually active steel mill ground floor to the scene currently unfolding at Desolate. Other news articles were also present, having drifted upwards to your attention with a bit of helpful referencing from the in-built search engine.

Other News Of Note
Reports of nations in the Eurasian region, particularly those of the proto-Communist Soviet Directorate, imperial New Roman Empire, and isolationist United Kingdom beginning a number of He3 independence movements. Reports have it that the United Kingdom is constructing a large facility of unknown purpose on Ascension Island, while the Soviets have begun mass deployments of new satellites in geocentric orbit.
Cuba, having opened its borders in recent decades, is currently enjoying not only friendly relations with its close neighbors in the pragmatically communist nation of the People's Democratic Republic of Brazil, but an economic renaissance. Industries on the small island have cropped up seemingly overnight, likely due in thanks to a number of tax breaks and subsidies offered to attract Gentek and its daughter corporations.
Gentek, despite the rash of crimes and robberies facing its clinics, has announced a redoubling of its efforts to modernize both its genetic therapies and the prices it charges for them. These therapies, also known as the process by which the abilities of Supers can be bestowed upon a mortal man (thus creating the current deluge of "Artificial Supers", even if that deluge is tapered somewhat by cost), are a commodity that is at no shortage of market.
Reports of the firebombing of a Gentek clinic has been linked to a growing movement in the undercity of Seattle called the "Crimson Crusade". Stylized as a polytheistic movement with religious undercurrents against the concept of superhumans entirely, the group is gaining momentum amongst the disenfranchised poor. Seattle police chief Gordon Walters has promised to step up efforts to snuff out radical groups.
Seattle's mayor Gordon Hewitt has confirmed the city's plans to open a new entertainment megaplex-- most prominently featuring the city's first "Super Arena". An arena intended for Supers to pit themselves against each other, be it in single combat, team combat, trials, or other such events, in the interest of helping alleviate some of the restlessness and vigilantism running through the city's population of "Superheroes".
Senator Jacob Riley, a representative of the United States Congressional branch, has pushed forward yet another revival of the PATRIOT act-- this one regarding the existence of Supers in everday society. Lawmakers are scrambling to scan over the suggested "Starr Act", intended to help with the overflowing population of Desolate and make for provisions for dealing with Supers now entering into the mainstream society. The Senator will be stopping by to pay a personal visit to Mayor Hewitt and answer a few questions from the associated press at a conference at city hall.
Major Starr, the "All American Superhero" and currently enlisted Major in the United States Army, has begun the first leg of his cross-country tour. Focusing on the ideals and opportunities for Supers in the military, as well as the Government's programs intended to help subsidize some of the cost of preexisting debts for Supers, Major Starr ("Captain Sellout" as he's less popularly known) is poised to begin a sweeping recruitment drive. His first stop will be in Seattle, the inner city's chapter of the Guild of Heroes in particular.

All in all, it seems like Seattle is busy at this time of year. The turn of the century should prove very, very interesting, to say the least. For now, Desolate was an active center of violence-- a burgeoning prison filled with every last Super"villain" and other Super-empowered criminal in the entire United States. Though it was designed as a supermax, already a single man had managed to penetrate its walls. Almost reaching into the core of the facility below. Almost.

Of course, what took place from here was up to the four people currently seated in that room. The fifth person, standing, was irrelevant: Jenkins, a flesh-and-blood butler of aging years and meticulous talent. A silver platter carrying a fine china teapot and appropriate teacups was balanced flawlessly on his left arm, his back rigid in posture as he blankly stared off into the distance, awaiting the commands of any so present.

This would be where the Crimson Age began.

Gunther
2012-08-14, 03:27 PM
Jackknife
Jackknife would find himself in a bit of an interesting predicament. Armed and armored as he had been, launching a spectacular assault against Desolate, his attack had actually gone fairly well. An explosives-packed Vertihawk had given him the entry necessary, the superpowered assailant more than capable of carving up the armored guards that stood between that front gate and the lone lift that granted access to the prison below. Victory had been so tantalizingly within reach! Even the on-base helicraft were unable to effectively contain the rampaging supervillain. The pyramid-shaped arcologies had quickly become corrals in which the aircraft could not effectively navigate into position.

The only real impediment had formed when the lift had arisen, bearing upon it nothing other than an actual, fully operational military tank. Its massive railgun bristling with magnetic energy as the coaxial minigun prepared to fire, there had been no other real option than to take cover in one of the central office arcologies, secured away from from both aircraft and tank. Quickly scaling internally, eliminating any and all security guards between him and the command center at the tip of the pyramid.

Which left him, more or less, where he was now. Situated within the topmost floor of the arcology southwest of Desolate's lift, currently secure on the correct side of the security bulkhead that had been lowered seconds too late. The three security guards in the room were dead, which left him with one dozen technicians and office personnel currently cowering in the middle of the room, amidst the handful of still-active computers. From this room, Jackknife had almost complete control of Desolate's air defenses, as well as the security systems. The hostages he had were plenty willing to obey whatever commands he gave them, but how long that willingness to cooperate would last is unknown.

The camera feeds of the control center, visible from the ceiling-mounted televisions, showed that the tank that had confronted him earlier was now sitting near the front door of the arcology, its massive frame blocking the entryway. A full two score of Desolate security staff, in their black and gold armor, were outside, forming up barricades with their vehicles in case he tried to go back out the way he came in. He was trapped by that tank in the building, but thankfully he had free reign throughout the interior. The rest of the office personnel had evacuated with the attack, and only these building critical managers and technicians had been left behind.

Just what Jackknife's next move would be, however, was up to him.

rorikdude12
2012-08-15, 01:47 AM
Shade

Dressed in his customary tuxedo, Derek moved swiftly toward the door and fetched his matching black fedora. With an agile movement, he quickly grabbed, drained, and placed back on the tray his cup of English Breakfast Tea.

"Thank you for that delicious tea, Jenkins. Could you please fetch a cab? I seek to jack a VTOL today."

RossN
2012-08-15, 06:15 AM
Grey Hawk

The hero turned villain glanced at the projector with apparent nonchalance, though his face lit up noticably as the lovely Ms Wok appeared. He'd carried quite the torch for the beautiful reporter back in the days when he'd been on the side of the angels and not everything about him had changed.

Ross turned his head and gave Shade a wry look. "Think you'll need assistance my friend? There are a few old friends at Desolate I wouldn't mind seeing again... to make sure they don't cause me any future trouble."

rorikdude12
2012-08-15, 06:34 AM
Grey Hawk

The hero turned villain glanced at the projector with apparent nonchalance, though his face lit up noticably as the lovely Ms Wok appeared. He'd carried quite the torch for the beautiful reporter back in the days when he'd been on the side of the angels and not everything about him had changed.

Ross turned his head and gave Shade a wry look. "Think you'll need assistance my friend? There are a few old friends at Desolate I wouldn't mind seeing again... to make sure they don't cause me any future trouble."


"I wouldn't mind in the least, but we're off!", Derek says as he leaves the room. He exits the building and goes down to the street level so that he can catch the cab Jenkins called.

Lonewolfe208
2012-08-15, 07:21 PM
As the Muscle-bound giant walks past him, A wiry, pale, male walks into the conference room:

"Wait, where is the dancer going?" Taking a bite out of his bagel, he drops the rest of it as he see's the news broadcast.

"Oh this should be fun." Picking up his jacket, he walks to the elevator, pushing the button and then begins to walk down the stairs, where he promptly disappears and reappears in the elevator whose doors just began to open.

Jogging out to the cab, Garet slides in next to the boxer with a big grin on his face.

"Thought you might need a hand or four."

RossN
2012-08-16, 11:35 AM
Grey Hawk

Ross smiled wolfishly as he watched the other two go. "Thank you Jenkins, we'd be lost without you"

A few swift strides and the ex-hero was out the door heading for the same cab as the others, his distinctive ash coloured costume hidden beneath a heavy trenchcoat.

Grim ranger
2012-08-16, 12:49 PM
Jackknife

Calmly standing before the console controlling his camera feed to the outside world, as well as the air defence systems and multitude of other useful devices, the hooded and masked villain did not even blink an eye beneath his full-face ballistic mask of gunmetal gray... But beneath it, he was hissing in rage. Things had gone so well at first, but now he had run into a problem just before he could put the phase two of his plan into action and finally claim measure of justice. It would have been against his character to just give up, though: he was still in position to negotiate, or rather threaten.

And even if he was a newcomer when it came to villany in Seattle, the live news report was already beginning to pick up on his handiwork. Good. It would give some credintials to what would come next. If he would not be able to bring the Desolate crashing down completely, he would give it his very best to at least walk away with A victory, even if THE victory was still somewhat beyond his reach.

So yes. It was time to put his contingency plan into effect.

Turning away from the console and towards the hostages who he had gathered to very same room with himself to discourage artillery strikes, Jackknife flipped one of his daggers slowly between the gloved fingers of his right hand. It was partially just his own character tic, so to speak, and partially to discourage any potential "heroes" in the crowd from making any sudden moves. He had had to discourage one of them already, in way of slashing the man's tendon before he could have made it to front door. Regrettable, but it he could not have stopped the fool there, he would have had to execute him with dagger to the spine instead.

And he hated killing needlessly.

"I have good news for all of you fine people who are likely scared out of your wits due to a masked lunatic threatening you with knives" Jackknife said, nodding at them all cordially before carrying on. "These news are twofold. First of all, I am not planning on keeping you here: provided that your co-workers will be reasonable, you will be with your friends and families before the day is over, and no one else will need to get hurt. Secondly, I am not one of the more sadistic people this city has to offer... I will not torture you, nor harm you in any way unless you attempt to leave or disturb my operations. All I need is for you to stay put and follow my instructions, and everyone will survive this day. Thank you for your co-operation."

Picking up small microphone from the control panel, Jackknife pressed a small button on the device, his voice suddenly audiable loud and clear all over Desolate. It was time to make his adress.

"Good afternoon, staff of Desolate penitentiary... And the rest of the world, who are likely tuning in on this tragic event as it unfolds. This is the man who is currently taking refuge in one of your outer facilities, and who happens to have good number of your employees to keep him company. I hope I have your attention?"

Pausing for a moment, the supervillain continued, his gaze held steadily on his hostages as well as the screens showing the video feeds from outside. "I have a proposition for you, one that I will not repeat, so listen carefully. I have a full dozen of your people with me, and I am willing to trade them for some of the men and women you have locked in that hellish trap of yours... But first, here are some ground rules. If a single one of your guards or any other personell I have not invited in personally attempts to enter the building, all of those with me will be executed instantly. Same goes for any attempts to have sharpshooter drop me from distance, or any kind of superhero intervention. I have means to make sure that my threat will be fulfilled even in the case of my immediate death, so do not test me."

Striking the dagger he had flipped between his fingers slightly against the metal of the seat next to the control panel and procuring rather chilling noise, Jackknife continued. "What I want for return of each prisoner is for one inmate of yours to be released. I do not care who, but only from level 10 prisoners or above are qualified for this exchange. They will also be returned all of their belongings upon leaving your facility. If you attempt any kind of trickery, such as sending guards disguised as convicts or attempting to stall for time on any pretense, I will execute the prisoner on whose life you saw fit to gamble with. Upon confirmed release of inmate, I will release one of my guests to your care, along with an explosive set to remote trigger to discourage trickery. Any attempt to play games of any kind with me even after the transactions are complete will result in deaths of all of the hostages."

Again, he paused, allowing for people outside to consider his words before adding in "Once all of the inmates requested have exited the facility and allowed to let go, I will leave the trigger to the explosives carried by the guests to this facility, from which you can retrieve it. The clock starts ticking now. I expect the first inmate to be above the ground with all of their belongings in four minutes. No more time will be given. Further instructions will be provided once you have shown yourself to be co-operative."

Placing the microphone down, Jackknife casually begun picking objects from his belt, his gloved hands working deftly as he placed remote triggers on variety of frag grenades, arranging them on neat row on the control panel. It was still all under control.

rorikdude12
2012-08-16, 02:35 PM
Shade
"Well, it seems as though we're going together then. Let's be off.", Derek says as he opens the taxi door and lithely swings his body into the taxi.

Get us over to that big scene at the prison thing, hoss., Shade says to the taxi.