Murder Ultimate: +New

It's 7:00pm. A booming nightclub, not far from Caesars Palace, romanticized as a modern pinnacle of Roman architecture, explodes in a dazzling star-struck night- as singers, actors, actresses- sway their body to the beat...


The night sky shines down in a majestic glow, as we CUT TO a newly-wed bride, bundled under a blanket with her Snuggles, the scent of the Vegas' atmosphere washed over her, mingling with the man she knew would protect and love her for the rest of her life. They were happy...


A dirty blonde model, sporting a baby blue two-piece bikini, steps into a sparkling pool of water...


A boy pulls a teenage girl close to him, their lips touch, it's her first time she was kissed...


It's a lucky day for a middle-aged man, he walks out with a cool swagger, a black bag of hard-earned cash from a Casino in tow down The Strip...



Picture- the dance floor. A display of blue laser lights fill the air, intermingling with party goers and the DJ. A crowd of drunk college co-eds woo and throw $20 bills at some glamorous, high-end stripper on a pole, her bubbly butt lined by a pink thong, tongue hung out lustfully. Some young Japanese girl, probably mid-20s, spoke in her native language in an eccentric tone, a “Hello Kitty” iPhone 5 pressed against her cheek. The party crowd is booming, to say the least, with boys kissing girls, girls gossiping... or dancing, with their friends, the ideal youth's dream. And why not? It's Vegas, baby!


A boy, 21, sporting a pink tank-top and blue denim shorts, has his head hung down...


His neck twitches slightly...


A cute Spanish girl approaches him, incredibly adorable, with such child-like features, brunette pony-tail hair, and drunk off her ass...


She bites her lower lip, movements sultry, as she walks closer...


“Hi.” She smiled, longingly glancing at him with emerald green eyes, dimples showing...


He looks up...


She presses a hand over her mouth, horrified....


The boy grins widely, a massive cross-shaped scar, red in color, ran down his youthful features, blood oozed down a gaping hole in his left eye, which was left void.


“I see whooooore~” He lunges forward, his teeth plunges deep into her left ear, ripping apart the muscle fibers and sinew, as she screamed... and screamed... and screamed...


Just as... two wide grins met the crowd.

“North Three-Nine to Ground, do you have your target, over?”

*Bzzt!*

The uneasy BSAA Warrant Officers piloting the Chinook helicopter looked straight ahead, the sparking embers of the 'Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas!' sign reflected in the canopy windows. The Chinook swayed out wide over The Strip; looking down, the mass of bodies, accompanied by wild fires, was immeasurable. A downed Boeing 747 burned bright over the Stratosphere Hotel Casino.

“Affirmative. This is DSO Agent Leon S. Kennedy, we're clear to land.”


The Chinook rear cargo ramp opened up, giving way to Kennedy's voice, “Remember, Helena, this is a rescue op: Rescue U.S. Senator Nathan Petrelli. Our intel reports he's holed up in The Bellagio –  the Senator has a few bodyguards posted on him, but under these conditions, God knows they're not going to last long.” He walked purposely toward the ramp, rappel line hooked against his tactical belt, and dropped out, his form disappearing into a tattered Casino below. It wasn't long before Helena Harper, his partner, followed him...


What... time was it?

It's been a while since the Crossed came in and killed, maimed, or literally screwed everyone in sight: Maybe you came here intentionally, or perhaps, you woke up here- far, far away from your beloved homeland, and tossed into this new hellish landscape in the midst of what appears to be an insatiable bloodbath. If so, eh, tough luck.

You scanned the area- off to the left was a lone figure, his pistol barred between a Crossed female, struggling to throw her off-

“Leeeeeon~ oh Leeeeeeon~” The female propped herself froward, a thin trickle of drool run from her mouth, her outfit, a smart black-over-purple dress suit, was torn and dirty, “C'mon, man, just one bite... then we can FUCK FUCK FUCK all night loooooong~ HA HA HA! Yoooou'd like that, wouldn't yoooou~?” Oof!

Leon's Samurai Edge swung in an upward arc, catching the jaw of the Crossed female, smashing it up and into the front of her face, teeth shattering in a spray of white shards. Blood erupted from her ruined mouth, causing her to stagger back, giggling, as if Mr. Kennedy told the funniest joke in the friggin' world, “D'awww, do yah love me pretty boy?! I never knew!”

“Stand back, Helena! I'm warning you!”

“How about this, ya pussy bottom BITCH! YOU--”

A bullet screamed from Leon's handgun, cutting through the air, and plowed into his partner's cranium with a brittle, wet 'crack!'. Blood and tissue sprayed out from the point of impact. The dead Crossed twitched slightly, her brain signals sending out it's last before dying out indefinitely.

You stepped forward...

CHUH-CHINK.

“Freeze.”

The cold, hard end of a barrel fixed against you, and what appears to be a group of survivors—some whom aren't even human! Whatever, screw it, you've seen weirder stuff, right?

“Civilians?” A pause, “Good. Come with me.”

Looking up, the upper half of The Bellagio was lost in roaring darkness of flame and smoke; on the air, you could smell the acrid scent of burning – human flesh mingled with hot, smelting iron – fill your nostrils. It's as if the sky itself rained fire, and in the swirling obscurity of falling ash, your skin crawled as you saw this: A girl – late teens, probably 16-17, you guessed – sporting a bloody Miley Cyrus t-shirt, plunged a silver kitchen knife against her belly. She giggled incoherently, mumbling, “We can't stop... we can't stop... hehe... we can kill... what we want...” Her insides oozed, trailing down a massive gash against her belly, as she looked up: “Kill?” A big rictus grin met you as... she fell backward, eyes widened as if she just experienced the happiest time in her life.

God, what... happened to her?

A pool of the teenager's blood trailed against your toes, as you grimaced, disgusted. Stepping forward, you pushed open the luxury hotel's golden twin double doors...


The Bellagio was quiet. Deathly quiet, considering the war that was going on outside. Multi-colored rose petals were propped up neatly thanks to wires and cables hoisting them up, a perfectly reconstructed Bronco Horse stood at the entrance, it's face contorted in surprise, as one hoof was raised.

A massive skylight illuminated the moon above, as little dust specks danced about. The floors were marble, cleaned and polished, vibrant in appearance. And finally, the entire infrastructure seemed to be held up by large white pillars that lead to an upper deck.

“Enjoy the calm, folks. I guarantee it won't last for long.”

Between now and 2 PM MST tomorrow afternoon is the prologue period. Feel free to post your character prologue. If you complete your prologue or opt not to post one, feel free to engage in character interaction!  ROUND ONE will begin tomorrow this Monday @ 2PM MST.

It was about 9:00 PM, night on the Vegas strip, not quite the best place to be. I didn’t have anything with me, just my tank top, a heavy boiler suit, and my headset. It may have been Vegas, but it was still cold. I was alone, I had just lost one of my friends, I’m have no idea how she died. I was a mess of a being. I got up from the bench I was sitting on, and walked down the street. I came up on a clothing store. Luckily, I had some money, so I went in. I bought a jacket, after all it would be better than the boiler suit. I got a few odd looks from the people who worked there, which I don’t understand, being it Las vegas. I walked down the street for about 40 more minutes, there was cops, so I decided to turn back.

‘What time is it,’ I thought, there being a sign that told the time to pedestrians. By now it was 9:50 PM. I went into a restaurant, as I got hungry. Though, my social shyness got the best of me, so I left. On the way out, one of the people working there asked me, “Hey, are you alright,” to which I replied with a simple, “Yes.” It sounded hesitant, but I wasn’t risking the cops talking to me. Thankfully, I was smart enough to get a room at one of those Vegas motels earlier in the day, one of the crappy ones though. But, hey I can’t really complain, at least I have somewhere fairly warm to sleep. When I got back, I drifted off, and let sleep take me away. I woke up about an hour later, to some National Guard looking guys pounding on the door. It was cold, although I had the jacket. My hands were itching to tinker with something, but it looked like that wasn’t gonna happen. I went to the door, and there was two guys, probably a little taller than Raiden.

“What’s going on?” I said rubbing my eyes. They both looked at me, but they didn’t quite look human.

“This one looks, verrrryyyy nice.” He lunged forwards at me, I had jumped back in time. I had brought a nine millimeter pistol with me. I had put in the drawer in the end table. BANG! BANG! I shot both of them in the head and ran outside, it all looked fine. I put the pistol on safe, and then stuffed it in between my waist and the boiler suit, so police wouldn’t see it. I walked back down to the strip and found it in chaos.

   “What the heck happened?” I said to myself. I checked the time again. It was 11:44 PM. I was still incredibly tired, so I climbed up to a vantage point, checked if it was safe, then put myself into a crawlspace. It was just big enough to fit into, so I pulled plywood over the opening, layed down, and I fell asleep.

   I woke up about 4 hours later, to an explosion. I readied my pistol and pushed the plywood over. I got out of the space, and stood up, surveying the scene. I looked up, there was a helicopter firing into the road. I noticed a hotel close by, that seemed quite quiet. I got down from scaffolding I was on, and sprinted over to it. When I got there, I noticed no one was there, so I hid and fell asleep once more.

   And so begins, my story.

This strange new world…Earth, was it called? Las Vegas? It was an intriguing place. From what she’d seen, this Earth was populated only by humans who, strangely enough, showed no signs of magical ability. Tristana hadn’t noticed before ending up here, but the air around her certainly felt much less…magical, for lack of a better word. Regardless of how or when Tristana got here, the Yordle Gunner had nary a care. She had been employed not a day into her journey to Vegas, and her employer was willing to pay her the big bucks if she could help escort a group of survivors through the outbreak. A chance to save innocents in peril, AND strike it rich? Tristana wanted in. She came to the predicted point the group would be traveling through, and was left with a message:


She was told nothing more. Frankly, she couldn’t care less. That just meant there’d be someone admiring her spectacular gunplay through surveillance cameras, in person, or otherwise. She assumed she wouldn’t be working alone, as this huge group of 40+ odd-jobs would be too big a load for one Yordle to handle. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be the case, and this “Leon” fellow’s presence was helping to reinforce that ideal.

Illya doesn't know what is going on, nor does he know that he has been sent into the future. All he knows is that he was sent on a mission to Vegas with his partner; Napoleon Solo and his objective was to infiltrate a lab owned by a group of millionaires. Let's just say, they pressed a few buttons on a certain "Classified" machine and were zapped 50 years into the future.
Illya looked around the place, it was one of the most wonderful things Illya had ever laid his eyes upon. But he wouldn't let beauty distract him from his mission.

Who were these maniacs with the crosses on their face? KGB Sleeper agents? Nazis? Products of one of the contraptions in that lab?

Those were all questions Illya wanted to find answers to. Illya pulled out his 1960's radio, turned it on and started to shout into the radio
"What is going on? Who are these maniacs and what the hell did that machine do to me and Solo?"

The radio played nothing but static and Illya started to swear under his breath.

"Cyka blyat. Stupid low-tech capitalist radio."

He looked around at the people near him, seeing men in long green robes and others with large shields. He was extremely puzzled, emotions of confusion and anger coursed through him. He felt like a small Russian boy again, looking at all these colourful people, remembering how he used to read a Soviet comic series called "Captain Communist".

He threw his radio across the room and it smashed into a pile of scrap, nuts, bolts and springs everywhere.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down and started to walk down the steps. He was determined to find Napoleon, he'd know what to do in this situation. But Napoleon not being in the group he was placed in meant he had to go into the fog of Vegas and deal with those maniacs, and Illya wouldn't be able to take on all those psychos by himself.

"Hwee cap-toored eet, Fhor Kay-oss!"

The army of Chaos thundered onwards in the thousands, victorious in their engagement. Fearsome Chaos Marines, their black and gold armor adorned with skulls, severed heads and spikes, charged towards the local Imperium fort. The skulls of dead Imperial guardsmen were effortlessly crushed under the mighty steps of their foes and the tracked behemoths they called tanks lumbered across the scarred ground behind them. Cultist-Chan, like her fellow support troops, were to pick through the bloody remains of the battlefield and finish off anyone, friend or foe, that was still alive.

Cultist took great joy in serving her gods, skipping and jumping and singing whilst impaling any living she found with the eight-pointed Chaos Star she wore on her back. The heavy metal regalia doubled as a powerful weapon, the wicked sharpened points and the hefty weight of the symbol put considerable force behind each swing. The metal has been stained to the very core with blood, no means of cleaning could ever separate the pigment from it without outright destroying the thing.

She turned over a hooded body, only for it to begin flailing at her to keep her away. "Nho hahrd fee-lingz meestur, but whee must keel, fhor Kay-oss!" Cultist raised her star, only for the human to raise his arm and energy to begin emnating from it. The wounded soldier was a Psyker, and wasn't going to die without a fight. He forcefully caused his powers to backfire, opening a large tear in the fabric of reality. This tear sucked in poor Cultist-Chan, and she was launched across space and time.

Eventually she was spat out of the dimensional clusterfuck, landing facedown on some concrete- not with a smash or a splat, but with a less-than-dramatic Pesh.


"Loss Veegahs? Hwehr arr hwee?" She stared at the infamous sign, thinking hard if it was anything she has ever heard of. "Hwell, Hwee hav ovurrherd frohm Kay-Oss muhreens that dere whus a playse on Terruh that whus nowne fhor gambulleeng, mhaybee dees ees eet?" She looked around and scratched her head, clearly confused.

“Don’t worry, my dear. You’ll be home in no time”. The old lady gave Norman a very gentle pat on the shoulder and glanced back at her Nicholas Sparks novel. What was her name again? Something with a B. He had surely regretted, by now, telling her the reason he was on that plane. For a moment, it felt nice to have someone who didn’t give him... accusatory looks as he went through his grief. Then, the lady became downright invasive. Too much physical contact, way too many condescending reassuring smiles. He was not a kid anymore, after all. No, definitely not a kid.



“Of course”, he did his best to muster a smile. B. had probably picked up on his obsessive pen twirling as an obvious sign that he was feeling rather anxious. Granted, it was his first plane trip, but this stopover was taking way much longer than the other ones. Maybe it was a Vegas thing? He couldn’t help but imagine all those casino divas handling their bags. It was an amusing thought, for some reason. He just wanted to go home.

The woman put down her book again. He had already learn to take a deep breath every time she did that, because it meant that she’d want to talk again. “You’re such a nice kid, Norman”, she grabbed his hand. Actually grabbed his hand. His palms were beginning to get sweaty, therefore making the contact quite slippery, but she didn’t seem to mind. “I’m sure you’ll be alright. You just need to be strong for a while longer, that’s all”. Her smile widened, while Norman’s actually started to resemble gritted teeth more than anything.

It had finally hit him why exactly this conversation was making him feel so uncomfortable. That woman wasn’t trying to help him. She was trying to help herself. She wanted to wallow into the misery of this poor, orphaned young man so that she could feel a little better about herself. That made her horrible, of course. Absolutely horrible.
What happened next was quick, and prompted Norman to simply look down to his hands. There was no blood in them, so it was likely that he hadn’t done it. No. It was someone on the back row. Someone had pierced her throat with a knife from behind her seat. The tip of the blade could now be seen, completely bloodied, peeking out from a hole in the skin. She was still alive; pleading, terrified eyes now staring at him. Not so condescending anymore, Beverly. Beverly, so that was her name!

He had most definitely nothing to do with this. But it was quite obvious who had done it. His breath deepened as he got up from his seat. And for a moment, even though he was quite aware that he was still in Las Vegas, he felt home. No, there was no need for the plane to take off anymore. He leaned over at the row behind his, the look in his face almost hopeful by now, as he spoke a single word.

“Mother?”

Degtyarev sat in a bar, a nice and quiet one. It was Irish themed, very few patrons, but that was hardly surprising given the location, Las Vegas was not known for being neither quiet nor nice.

He had been dispatched to the city a week before for unclear reasons, which he was becoming increasingly used to, especially since he refused his promotion to Colonel following the event of Operation Fairway, there were many in the SBU who absolutely despised Degtyarev for that, even more who despised his lack of corruption or willingness to ignore it. Anyway, he had been dispatched to Vegas with the ominous briefing on his PDA of “Observe and note any changes in situation. Preserve National interests.” He’d kept his ear to the ground; and a weapon kept on him. His GsH-18 was under his left shoulder, concealed under his suit jacket, it was reassuringly heavy and the two spare magazines kept under his right made him feel even more reassured. But by no means was this an excuse to lower his guard, he observed his surrounding to the point of hyper vigilance; he noted how relaxed the staff were, how quiet and withdrawn the patrons were. Nothing would happen here, unless it were deliberate, now that may be innocent enough, a party booked, a business meeting etc, but it could also be very seedy and exactly what he is looking for, the trading of illegal Artefacts from The Zone, for example, but there was no evidence of that now.

He stood up and went to use the restroom, he had the strangest sense of foreboding, like he was about to walk into a Bloodsucker nest… His hand drifted up to his pistol’s grip unconsciously. He cautiously opened the door, his eyes narrowing as he did so. He was greeted with a series wet noises, squelching, really and the smell of copper, blood. His Gsh-18 was out now, and pointed to the floor. He turned the corner; it bore a passing resemblance to if a grenade had gone off in the middle of a crowded room, but it was only passing, the carnage, the blood and giblets of human flesh had been strewn across the floor by one man; a middle aged, balding, a bit on the fat side, he would have looked normal but the blood on his face and the chunks of meat hanging from in-between his teeth as he bit into flesh of his victim, another man, younger, smaller, his belly and throat opened by his attackers teeth.

The assailant looked up at him and Degtyarev could now see what covered the eyes and forehead, a cross made up of blood blisters and rash marking him.

“More food, more fuckmeat for me.” The attacker slurred his mouth still full of viscera as he mumbled. He began to stand, quite quickly. But Degtyarev was quicker his handgun was already up and had sent three rounds into the cannibal, two in the chest, either side of the sternum and one in the head, right above the left eye. The attacker slumped forward with a heavy thud that splashed up some blood which landed a few inches from Degtyarevs shoes, he turned back into the bar, and he saw the terrified and shocked looks of the other occupants of the bar.

“Relax every-“ He started. But was rudely cut off by the second loudest noise he had heard in his life, a huge mechanical sound, like engines whirring and protesting, then he heard the screaming. He stalked towards the door and looked up, it was a fucking plane, an airliner, far too low, in obvious distress and it was descending… right into Las Vegas, and the goddamn hotel he was staying in. “Okay, you guys.” He said turning back. “Stick together, arm yourselves, and get the fuck out of the city.” He then left the bar and began jogging forward, pistol in two hands and held down, a smile creeping across his face, now this took him back.

“Cheeki breeki iv damke!” He shouted and shot one of the scabby freaks in the chest twice when they came rushing towards him with a severed arm in one hand and a meat cleaver in the other.

Then he resumed his journey towards his hotel room, he wanted his Vintorez back. But first, he needed allies.

[Post Deleted]

While Grace had left Kara with SHIELD and drank away her sorrows for a short time, the next morning Coulson had called her back. Offered the chance to do some side work for him time to time for updates on the woman she loved.

This was what had led her to Vegas itself, one of her least favourite places in the world. Not that she didn’t used to love it, but being mind fucked by an Asgadian and then literally fucked there had left a bitter taste in her mouth every time she utters the place name.

She had lost the right to pick and choose where she had to go a long time ago when it came to SHIELD. Suspicious activity. She could have laughed, now, at the same time as wondering if Kara and her former team were alive. Her phone was destroyed, even if it wasn’t under rubble along with her favourite gun, and she had no way of contacting anyone.

She’d only left for a few hours to meet an old informant. She hadn’t come back to the same city. She’d used up a large portion of her available ammo on what had been the backup Coulson had supplied.

He was going to kill her. Probably come back to life again, if he was dead, and kill her. They’d all take turns.
She tried to save on her bullets, and not use her knives for worry of losing them permanently; she had taken some from the bodies of the SHIELD agents (it wasn’t like she hadn’t done worse in her time).

She made her way through the chaos with the grace and stealth she had once been famed for among her fellow spies. She knew a good place to hide when she saw one and the Bellagio, which she knew well already, seemed good enough.

As usual, He was running for his life. The Doctor was in the streets of London and being chased by a Silurian with a nasty temper. He hears his trainers hit the pavement and hoped he didn’t trip on his shoelaces. He sees his TARDIS in sight and heads to it.
BANG!
The gun went off and nearly hit him. He put on some more speed and hears the gun go off again and he felt some pain as he was hit but it was just a surface wound. He made it to the TARDIS and he pulled the lever, not knowing where he would be going.
~Worrph....worrph~ The TARDIS dematerialized and he sighed with releif. so far, he was safe. And the angry Sillurian didnt get him.

But he was going to regret that when the alarms went off. "hey whats going on? he yelled. He tried to stop the alarms by pushing buttons but it just made it worse. the alarm noises increased and he was knocked to the ground. "im crashing!" He yelled and there was a loud crash and his world went black.

The TARDIS crashed close to the hotel in Las Vegas and near where his would be partner is.

~sometime later~
The Doctor awoke and he hears sparks and hissing and knew his TARDIS was hurt. He didnt know where he was and why he crashed. He tried to get up and pain shot through his leg. He knew he might be hurt.

Aurelius didn't know what was worse, seeing a person he was playing against get taken down by one of The Crossed outside of one of the casinos, or the fact he could do nothing but run when they went after him. Let's move back a little bit, shall we? Aurelius Kaiser was born to a woman who died shortly after he was born. Then after that, his life basically turned to hell, an understated word really. He became homeless at an early age because of the fact of his parents(his father now remarried), thinking nothing of their offspring. He was now here, seeing if he could earn a living. Or at least make a few bucks to get to the next town. But that seemed to not be in the cards anymore. He did have a motorcycle, but it was down a few more blocks.

Aurelius was great with martial arts. But he had a feeling that he wasn't going to be able to use fists too much against these things. He sucked in a deep breath as he kept on running. He finally came upon his motorcycle, kicking the kickstand out of the way and firing up his bike and sped off. He looked back, scowling. "What the hell is going on?" he asked. He heard of zombies, werewolves, vampires and the like. But nothing seemed to fit with this. He shook his head, just needing to get somewhere. His bike continued to roar around the roads of Las Vegas. And while he might have thought it was pretty earlier, he had bigger things to worry about. He shook his head to clear it and wondered where to go next.

Maybe the airport was still working. So he moved his bike to where the airport was located, hoping against hope that he would be able to get away. He wasn't a fearful man, he took a deep breath and let it out. Whatever it was, he'd be able to handle it, just like he did everything else. There was no way he was going to die like this, not here, in the city of lights. His biked roared to a stop at the entrance of the airport, looking around, hoping those things didn't follow him here. He needed someone with him, and he wasn't much of a people person. But he wasn't stupid either. He knew he would die without someone able to help him. So he rode his bike further into the airport and stopped it, kicked the kickstand to level it out, and shut it off. He had the feeling someone was here.

And the fact that he didn't seem like he had anywhere else to go fueled that too. He was a drifter, if he found someone who would rather be alone, he wouldn't push it. "Hello?" he called out quietly, hoping he didn't startle anything he shouldn't have.

I heard someone come into the hotel, so a grabbed my gun, and readied it. I got out of my hiding spot, and walked around.
"Who's there?" I called out, with my voice echoing throughout the lobby. "I don't know what's going on, so who is there." I saw someone at the door of the hotel, so I fired a warning shot.

That was, most definitely, not Mother. Of course, it couldn't be. Mother was still under the earth, and that very thought killed him. Especially because he knew she wasn't dead. She couldn't be. He had thought of barging into the cemetery at the night, with a shovel, so that he could finally set her free. Poor thing. She always hated being shut inside. She probably looked rather unglamorous by now, too. Maybe with the occasional maggot piercing through her eyes. Not an interesting sight. Still... whoever, or whatever, had attacked him at that plane was not her.

It was... for the lack of a better word, a monster. Now, people had a tendency to say that Norman saw things, and that was likely it. He thought about it at the very moment that the... thing attempted to plunge straight towards him. A hallucination, yes, that was likely it. He had been through a lot recently, after all. Still, all this sane reasoning wasn't enough to keep him from running like hell. Out of the plane. Out of the airport he had never been to, but somehow found a way out quite effortlessly.

It was then that he bumped into someone. A man. Slightly taller than him. For a moment, it was almost as if he had slammed into a brick wall. Norman felt the air leave his lungs as he fell on his ass, slamming against the pavement. The neon that spelled "McCarran International" lit up his face. "I'm so sorry, sir! I'm terribly, terribly sorry!", he started to laugh nervously. What had he gotten himself into? One silly hallucination, and now he was out of his flight. Maybe if he tried to reason with the Airline Clerk he'd be able to get back inside?

"Really, really sorry, I don't know what has gotten into me!". He supported himself on one hand, whilst wiping off the dirt from his pants with the other.

Boom, Shlink, Brrrrupt, Ka-boom!

It was the harrowing sounds of Las Vegas under siege from.. Something. Something Seargent Barnes knew. Something Leo Barnes regretted having been in. The Crossed were back, even though SHIELD had said they would have it under control, this wasn't. It was a reenactment. It was another day with the Crossed. To Leo, he could try and do it all again, destroy them all again, but how long would it be before he was killed? Maybe the Crossed had some kind of hive-mind? He didn't know, but he knew after a long time that this wouldn't be easy. Leo began driving up the Strip with his sirens on, stopping in the center where an LVPD police cruiser was getting hammered hard by the Crossed.

As he slammed the breaks and skidded to a halt right next to the cruiser in cover, Leo grabbed his Remmy, opened the door, and quickly began blasting the Crossed to high hell, what the Crossed didn't know was the LVPD driver was dead, so they were firing at nothing. All that came out of Leo's shotgun though, was silence. In his ears, nothing played but the sound of white noise, chalk against a blackboard as he slowly recovered himself to the fact that he had killed all the Crossed.

"Fuck." He said quietly. "I already got them.. Fuck, fuck! This shit is starting again!" He walked toward the dead Crossed, looking at their weapons which were already low on ammunition as he kicked each one out of the way. He wouldn't make it easy for them as he walked back to the LVPD cruiser and looked inside: A mangled, shot up, and bloodied mess of a body as sirens from multiple municiples were heard all around. Leo ducked under, quickly grabbing the ammunition from the dead officers pistol belt and from his gun, as he held them tightly, before grabbing the shotgun and ammunition.

He walked over to his LAPD cruiser, removing the shotgun shells from the dead officers gun before placing it in the duffel bag which was contained alongside a small arsenal of weapons, including the ammunition he just took. As he zipped it back up though, he swore he heard something move from the other side.. He didn't know what but it was there. As he grabbed his own Remmy and threw the other aside, he slowly began walking forward shotgun held tightly as he looked out to the small on-fire mass of vehicles the dead Crossed set up as a roadblock.

Almost immediately afterward did he hear the sound of gunfire now coming his way, hitting up his cruiser and near his feet as he stumbled back before taking a crack shot, the Crossed coming from the burning rubble as they destroyed his means of escape, firing at Leo as all he did was run. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" They yelled with a burning passion as Leo sprinted and sprinted faster and faster until he rounded a corner and breathed in and out. "Fuck.. They're.. Fuck, they're back.." He panted deeply, before now taking a cautious walk.

Not cautious enough as one of the Crossed sprang right infront of him, a man in his late 50's with a bloodied meat cleaver giving a sadistic smile at Leo. "You're definitely going to be a fiiiiine piggy!~" He said calmly as he raised his cleaver and brought it down. It wasn't enough time to react, as he quickly deflected the hit with his shotgun, scraping the barrel before a fight commenced between them. "What are you doing, piggy!? You'll make a fine selection in the meat aisle!~" He yelled again before bringing it down, a slam from the butt of Leo's shotgun contacting the Crossed butcher in the face as he fell down hard. "Eugh.. Eugh.. LITTLE PIGGIES DON'T FIGHT BACK, THEY BECOME FRESH MEAT!" The butcher yelled, as Leo stared him down in the eye.

"This piggy ain't coming to your meat aisle anytime soon."

BLAM! The shotgun rang out as it blew the butchers head into pieces as Leo stared at the mess before him with anger. He walked past him - It, rather - before he rounded a corner. Only to meet the gun barrel of the man he once knew: Leon Kennedy. Leo stared at Leon with a long silence before he slapped the gun away from him. "Get that shit out of my face. Lord knows however fucking long I've seen one of those pieces of shit in my face about to blow me off." He chuckled before patting Leon. "You're okay, kid. Lead the way."

As they neared the inside, Leo kneeled at the front door with his shotgun pointed outwards. "Get the others inside. I'll cover your six." He made sure that everybody was inside before entering himself, securing the perimeter before he sighed and walked up to Leon. "Seargent Barnes. LAPD. You won't remember me, probably, but I do." He smiled once more, wiping the small dots of blood off his face. "I'm clean. Made sure of it. No cuts or nothin'. I'll do my best to help you and the others."

He walked away before giving a nod, looking around at the group as he spotted a woman that was.. Oddly out of character from the others. She wore clothes as if though she was one of the Strips casino players. As he neared her, he placed the Remmy and the Duffel bag on his back. "Now how in Hell do you manage to survive wearing heels?" He asked her playfully. And somewhat questionably.

@traitorxofxcowardice
@Admin

thedeviantKat wrote:         I heard someone come into the hotel, so a grabbed my gun, and readied it. I got out of my hiding spot, and walked around.
        "Who's there?" I called out, with my voice echoing throughout the lobby. "I don't know what's going on, so who is there." I saw someone at the door of the hotel, so I fired a warning shot.

Leon gasped, side-rolling as a 9mm round ripped through The Bellagio's flimsy decorative wall, "Don't shoot!" A man's voice echoed, crouched near the open door of 5-Star Hotel's entrance, the twin door's golden frames glimmering against the moonlight above. Agent Leon S. Kennedy's eyes peered over a tattered black-and-white luxury couch, clutching his 9mm Samurai Edge betwixt his fingers, "I'm with the U.S. Government, sweetheart, one of the good guys!" Yelled out the pretty boy, sloooowly pulling himself forward, "See, I'm harmless." A small, comforting smile crept across those youthful features of his:

Griffin slowly got up from the chair she had been sitting in at the club. The job was simple. Follow the kid, capture, contain, and deliver. She had followed him from his house to the club and now he was leaving. Perfect. Griffin paid for the drink and followed him outside. Once he crossed the street and started walking through a nearby alley, Griffin checked to see if there were any cameras or people watching. Seeing none she turned invisible and caught up to the boy. Then she pulled the chloroform soaked handkerchief  and went to put it over his face when something grabbed her arms from behind. “Hello Griffin, it  is nice to finally see you.” a low voice said from behind her. “Or should I say to not see you.” The voice chuckled slightly from behind. “I`m watching  through a camera, so let's not try anything you would regret.” Griffin turned visible to so her cooperation and  listened to what the man behind her had to say. “ There we go, now Griffin do you know why you were hired to  kidnap this boy here?” the man asked referring to the boy, who had turned around  and was watching. “My employers hired me to do a job, not to ask questions” Griffin said. It was true that  her employers did not tell her why they wanted the boy, but she had done her research. “Yes well I`m they did.” The man said as he turned around to face her. “This boy is an alpha much like you, But unlike you he can transport people and items to another dimension.” Griffin kicked the man and run when she saw him go down. She looked over her shoulder to make sure that they weren't going to follow her and saw the boy waving his hands around while the man got up. as she was turning her head around she thought she heard the man call out “Have a nice trip.” Griffin turned around and saw a huge hole in the sidewalk a foot away. She tried to stop herself before she fell in but it was too late. Griffin fell and when she stood up to look around she saw that she had fallen in the middle of the street of what looked to be Las Vegas.

The bullet whizzed past Illya's face and he rolled behind a pillar, getting shot wasn't in his interests.
He looked over at Leon as he tried to reason with the girl.
Illya waited for Leon to fall to the floor and bleed out because he thought he would get shot and eyed down where Leon's equipment and ammo was located so he could quickly retrieve it and arm himself,

It was a cold night in Middle-Earth as Thorin and Company sought shelter in a nearby cave. “Now let's be careful this time, I don't quite feel like being captured by damn Goblins again!” shouted Gloin. “Aye, but if we do, we be sure to bash their skulls in yet again!” Dwalin spoke up. It was then the rest of the Company of Dwarves gave a here, here! Thorin then entered the cave with his head held high. “I can see the lot of you are already anxious for the next battle.” Thorin spoke with a chuckle. “Well you would know us, wouldn't ye Uncle?” Fíli chuckled. Thorin merely nodded with a smile as the group prepared a fire.

It was some moments later when Thorin noticed they were missing two people. “Oi! Where's Balin and Bilbo?” Thorin asked. It was then the other Dwarves suddenly noticed and began to look about the cave. “Hey, Thorin's right! Neither Bilbo or Balin is here!” exclaimed Bofur. “Now where would those two be!?” grumbled Dwalin. “I don't know but I don't like it, Orcs are more active at night.” Thorin spoke with concern in his voice. “Fíli! Kíli! Go out there and find Bilbo and Balin, and bring them back here if you can!” Thorin commanded as his two nephews stood at attention. “Yes, right away!” They both spoke in unison.

Just as the two Dwarves where about the brave the wilderness, the missing persons in question come stumbling in. “What ho!” shouted Gloin. “Aye, were have the two of you been?” Dwalin questioned. “I'm sorry, quite sorry in fact.” Bilbo quickly spoke up. “Yes, please don't be mad at the poor boy...it was my fault for our tardiness.” Balin interjected. “Calm down everyone. No harm was done here and now we can set up a watch for-” Thorin was then interrupted by Balin, “But before you do that, Thorin, there is something we must show you.” “Yes it's the reason we came here.” Bilbo added. “Show me, what?” Thorin asked his curiosity piqued.

Bilbo and Balin led Thorin, along with Fíli and Kíli to a very rocky area. While the boulders around them seemed to create a nature-made stone walls there was a distinct glow around the area. “Hey what's causing that blue light?” Kíli asked. “I don't quite know what it is myself.” spoke Bilbo. “But it's quite strange and I think we ought to take a better look at it.” Bilbo suggested. “Well let's not falter, lead on.” Thorin spoke as the group continued to move. After navigating the rocky paths they came across the most strangest of sights. In the center of a clearing there was something that looked like a pool of clear water except suspended in mid-air. It looked like the pool was swirling in the middle of it all. Thorin could hardly believe just what he was seeing, so too where his nephews.

“Like I said, I haven't the faintest idea what it is.” Bilbo spoke again. “Right.” Thorin absentmindedly spoke. He carried himself over the rocks and entered the clearing with Fíli and Kíli armed at the ready. Bilbo and Balin also entered the clearing behind them. Thorin stopped them before they came to close as they simply started into the anomaly. “It seems so pretty, whatever it is.” Thorin spoke, albeit distracted. “Yes, but I wouldn't stand so close to it if I were you.” Balin warned. Although Thorin did hear Balin's words he felt a bit hypnotized by the portal. In fact, it seemed to be calling out to him...Thorin....Thorin....Thorin Oakenshield....come hither....

“Did you all hear that?” Thorin asked. “Hm, hear what?” Bilbo asked confused. Thorin continued to walk up to it. Thorin, Thorin! “That, that just now.” Thorin responded. “Uh, Thorin we're not hearing anything, are we?” Bilbo looked towards Balin. “No, not a word from anyone here.” Balin concurred. “Hm, yes Uncle perhaps you should stand back.” Kíli spoke with concern rising in his voice. Yet Thorin heeded not a word of their warnings and concerns, instead he stared transfixed as he continued to move forward, the portal calling out his name. “Thorin? Thorin don't!!” shouted Bilbo, but it was too late. Thorin moved in and touched the portal as the bright blue light transformed into a near blinding light. “THORIN, NOOOOOO!!” shouted Kíli as his ran for his Uncle. Worried about his brother, Fíli ran after him and grabbed hold of him before he jumped into the portal. “NO, LET ME GO BROTHER!!” He shouted it but to no avail. As they averted their gaze of the bright light, in a flash it was gone, along with Thorin. “THORIN!!” They all shouted.

____________________________

Thorin couldn't remember much of what happened after he touched the portal. In fact it felt more like falling into a deep sleep. Yet instead of waking to a dream, he would wake to a nightmare. The ground was hard and cold. It felt like stone but different as well. He could feel the wind blow upon his body, it was hot, as if fire was in the air. He stirred awake as he noticed at his feet a dead body! Thorin quickly made a backwards crawl as he slammed up against a totaled car. It shook releasing another dead body that dropped beside him. Thorin launched to his feet as he reached for Orcrist sheathed on his back. Yet to his surprise the blade wasn't there. “What!?” He shouted in surprise. Where was his weapon!? His hands then fell to his waist where he felt a hilt. “Huh, Deathless!?” He shouted with surprise as he drew his sword. “I thought I lost ya in the Goblin Caves?” Thorin spoke to himself. He also noticed he had his battle axe and oak shield as well. Weapons he thought he lost track of. He felt calm knowing he was armed, after all, the place looked like a battlefield.

With sword and shield drawn, Thorin cautiously moved about the burning streets of Las Vegas. This place was completely alien to him. He knew there was no place on Middle-Earth that looked remotely like this. He then began to shout out, “Fíli! Kíli! Balin! Bilbo!” Despite his attempts, his companions did not answer. Did they not come with him to this place? Was he alone? It was then he saw Orcrist sheathed in the middle of the road. Except a group of three Men were surrounding it. “Hey what's this!?” One of them hectically asked. “Ooo, let me see!” Shouted another. “NO! GET AWAY FROM IT!” The Man shouted drawing a knife. The third one, however, picked it up. “HEY DON'T TOUCH IT!” shouted the Knife bearing Man. “NONE OF YOU TOUCH IT!” Thorin shouted to them. “Huh? What?” One of them spoke. “IT'S A MIDGET!! GET'EM!!” The Knife wielder shouted as they all drew weapons and charged.

Whoever they were, they certainly were not friendly. Thorin then charged as well heading into battle. Thorin dodged the first one's attack by sidestepping him and slashing him at his hamstring. He fell to the ground. The second one had a lead pipe as he used like a club to smash into Thorin. Thorin kept blocking the blows with his Oak Shield as he laid a perfectly good slash across the Pipe wielder's side. He then fell back some ways away. Then the third came up behind him and laid a stab with a broken glass bottle into his shoulder. Luckily his armor protected him as Thorin placed a backwards headbutt into the man's torso. Almost having the wind knocked out of him, he backed up as Thorin thrusted his blade into the man. “GAH!” He shouted as Thorin drew the blade back, blood gushing out everywhere. “Fuckin' midget!” He gasped as he fell to the ground. The first one forced himself to move despite having one leg being practically useless.

Thorin never seen a Man work through the pain so well, not to mention the level of determination. They even seem to enjoy some of the pain, he was dealt to them. Where these Men or Monsters? The man came in with a stab but his balance was off because of the previous injury. He swung his shield into the Man's attack as the force caused him to fall onto his back. “OOF!” It was the Thorin placed his boot down on the Man's hand just nearly breaking his wrist as he let go of his knife. “COME ON MIDGET!! KEEP ON GIVING ME THAT GOOD SHIT!!” He shouted manically, enjoying the pain. It was then the Pipe wielder came at a rush as he jumped up to club Thorin into the ground. Thorin moved back and blocked the attack with his shield. Yet Thorin dropped to the ground from the sudden impact as he kept swinging the pipe. Thorin blocked all of the blows but so far there was no openings. He waited however, because very soon his opponents blows will slow down and when that happens...here it is!



The Man's blows slowed and in an instant with a slash from his sword cut the Man's hand clean off. He shouted as he saw blood gush from his arm. “NOW I AM A CRIPPLE!” He shouted in anger. Thorin rose to his feet as he bellowed, “You won't have to worry about that for very long!” As he launched forward and thrust his blade deep into the Man's chest as he fell over, with the Dwarf on top of him. “You..Son of...a BITCH!!” The Man shouted as he Thorin withdrew his blade. It was then the last one slowly rose to his feet as he hobbled over and picked up the knife with his good hand. “Come on Midget, come on and let me penetrate you this time!” He shouted with a hint of innuendo. Thorin started at the Man with disgust as he came charging. He quickly spun around the Man's stab as he took Deathless and slashed across the Man's back. He howled in joy and pain as he felt to the ground. “Aw...you should play more fair!” Thorin's crazed opponent shouted. He then walked up to him as he laughed and laughed some more. Hearing enough from him, Thorin ran Deathless right through the Man's skull.

After his battle, Thorin retrieved Orcrist where it was dropped and slung it over his back. It was time to leave before more of those Men with the strange scars appear. Thorin wandered the streets of Las Vegas, trying to avoid the areas where he heard shouting and screaming. He wasn't in the mood for a fight right now. It was then he heard a loud bang! “What in the world was that!?” He shouted as he moved towards the sound. He kept his distance but saw a man (Leon) leading a group of survivors somewhere else. They seemed to have a better mind about them compared to the other people he has seen. He decided to follow them. It was then he witness what that teenaged girl had done. “By the good grace of Mahal, just what is going on here!?” Thorin gasped. He watched the group enter and considered entering as well. It seemed quiet in there, but then he heard another loud bang coming from inside. Should he enter after all? It might be better than staying out here or it could not. Whatever the case, Thorin decided he would take his chances as he approached the building.

Admin wrote:Leon gasped, side-rolling as a 9mm round ripped through The Bellagio's flimsy decorative wall, "Don't shoot!" A man's voice echoed, crouched near the open door of 5-Star Hotel's entrance, the twin door's golden frames glimmering against the moonlight above. Agent Leon S. Kennedy's eyes peered over a tattered black-and-white luxury couch, clutching his 9mm Samurai Edge betwixt his fingers, "I'm with the U.S. Government, sweetheart, one of the good guys!" Yelled out the pretty boy, sloooowly pulling himself forward, "See, I'm harmless." A small, comforting smile crept across those youthful features of his:

"What's your name, darling? Where's your parents?"

I stayed quiet, and backed away. "I will shoot!" I was scared, and I had no idea what was going on. The man seemed okay, but I didn't get a good look at his face, so I didn't know whether to trust him or not. "My name is Sunny Emmerich! I want you to prove you aren't one of them!"

@DapperDogman

After stalking through the streets cautiously, it was still quiet, which surprised him. It was still all quite civil considering the small batches of extreme violence that had broken out across the city.

The Major saw something to make him make a double take. A man in a bloodied jacket and wearing a mask. Degtyarev decided to wave him down. "Yo, masked man!" He called out. "You need backup? The city's going crazy and I need to get to the hotel. How about we join forces, right?"