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Aberrant: 200X - [Gods of War] Intro: Chaos in Kinshasa [FIN]


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Marché de la Liberté M’Zee Laurent-Désiré Kabila, Kinshasa, The Democratic Republic of Congo

3:30 PM

The Marché was one of the largest markets in the city of Kinshasa, built during the presidency of Kabila to commerate and repay district residents who had resisted the rebels in 1998. The place normally was packed and bustling with shoppers, consumers of the outlying cafes, and all the like. Unfortunately, as Donald observed from the inside of a coffee shop in vivid and strong detail, the crowds assembled in the markets were not just loud, but most certainly unified, and waving not a few signs. For once, a demonstration of democracy was in play, even though Asani never had kept his promise.

Why the boss had requested he get sent back here, Donald didn't know. But he suspected Mr. Argyle sensed trouble coming and wanted someone who would put up with the shit before it splattered the fan. And Donald had agreed reluctantly... which made him the monkey's target board. The job was simple at first, watchdog a British money management firm rep during his stay in Kinshasa.

Simple perhaps but never easy. Five theft attempts, two armed robberies in one week, all of which thwarted by Donald, frustrated at his employer's profligate display of his wealth by lavish tipping and the like. Flies, humidity and the growing anxiety in all palpable across the Congolese capital city. The state TV was biased, but he suspected they were right about Laurent and the TDR being up to something.

And now, while he babysat Mr. Ernest Russell and the government flunky handling business deals about this fund or those stocks and off-shore ways to legitimately stash morally and legally (if the government wasn't overlooking their own transgressions) illegitimate funds, a tense protest was outside.

The two suits treated it as no matter, Russell from arrogant dismissal and his contact from the belief that it would shatter once the police and possibly one of Asani's Elites made their will clear- and the police were present and massing for a fight. Strangely, the authoritation law enforcement was displaying restraint.

Any moment though, things would go wild. Donald flipped on his phone through the OpNet, local reports claiming other demonstrations forming or about to go boom across the city. And then one of Asani's well-known quantum city thugs, Francois Mbadi appeared, flying towards the scene on a trail of purple energy. The moment held.

Donald leaped for his client, throwing Russell to the group with inhuman speed and suddenness. Then all the baselines heard fractions of moments later what Donald was already responding to. The big crack of some high-powered firearm going off, and as he glanced up to double-check the scene, Mbadi was hurtling backward, and Donald could smell from this distance and narrow on the hint of blood tang sprinkling the air.

Protesters launched like springboards and hurtled to meet mutually responding, charging police. The spark was lit.

4:30 PM

For all the shock that had hit the city and the chaos all around, the bastard Russell had been quite angry at Donald's attempts to bring him to safety, with the assured sense of a man who felt such mean doings were not his sort and could never ever touch him. "I say, Mr. Evo, let go of my arm or your check with be garnisheed at the least. We can stay at the hotel and all this-"

This while in the lobby of the hotel seventeen blocks from the cafe, where Donald had forcibly dragged Russell to the car, to the hotel, to his room, etc. It was hardly pleasant, even as Donald drove the businessman to pack and scheduled him a flight at Kinshasa International Airport. Which happened to be on the west side of the city, meaning he would have to get Russell there across the entire city... hardly possible with a whiny white-collar.

"Listen," Donald snarled with the last of his patience evaporating into the supersaturated air, "my job is to fucking keep you fucking alive! If that means lugging you around like an overgrown rugrat, I will do it. Do you hear me?"

Although affronted by the use of the phrase 'overgrown rugrat', Russell recognized the unwavering will behind Donald's words and decided his dignity could be better preserved without being manhandled around. Russell soundlessly relaxed and nodded reluctantly. "Very well. Is this going on across the devil of a city?"

Donald hissed out that fact. "The True Democratic Republic has gone and started an uprising." Russell blanched, loosing some of his high airs, thankfully for Donald. "I'm packed. Shall we check out?" Donald grinned without humor or happiness, but at least the money man was becoming more manageable.

5:00 PM

It had taken luck and quick thinking to get this far. In many areas, outright battles between Elites, police and rebels were raging openly, though Donald was able to navigate around those firefight sections. The revolutionaries were losing that was clear already... but sheer stubbornness and inertia, plus the scale of the outbreak delayed any chance of a finish quickly.

Donald had noted however, that like at the initial battle he had seen, people here and people there had what appeared to be black-market weaponry designed to be quite anti-nova. He'd seen enough injuries in high-detail on the active Elites to justify that notion. When Round 2 came around, as it would... Donald shuddered at the thought of a bloodbath, and Kinshasa becoming another Victoria.

More than a number of detours through police-controlled sections were necessary, worth it in all safety. At each checkpoint, Donald flashed his passport and id, showing the cops that he was the bodyguard of a reputable foreign businessman getting his client out of Dodge, and hardly a risk of trouble.

A few good words about the scurrilousness of the rebels and the TDR also helped greatly. But now, they were going through a less secure area of town, though they were much close to the International Airport now. He'd ordered Russell to lie down on the car floor sans seat belts, to avoid being hit by a stray bullet...

BAM! Another retort like the first he'd heard, which indicated the firing of an underworld 'Nova-Smasher' rifle. It was the work of miliseconds to duck his head and the heavy round passed above him, cutting through the seat head and through the back mirror glass. Donald pulled his head back into line to see the motley group up ahead.

In a drawn-out scant moment, he determined several things from his sight. One, this was a motley group, and from their haphazard organization and body language, and there only being a few of them- this wasn't a rebel group. More scavengers out for the prospect of getting something from some scared and easy meat tourists in a good car.

But the shot was meant to stop him, and they were too close to flee if he gunned the engine. A ghastly thought, but Donald did it. A great howl of mechanical horsepower filled the air, and the men tried to scatter. Two, a dark-skinned man and his bearded counterpart- the one holding the Nova-Smasher- were too slow on the draw.

Both were sent flying by the metal buffets of the onrushing beast, and after they landed... would never get up again, assuming the initial impact would not have killed them. Mr. Russell whimpered in fright from down there, and Donald yelled back, "Chill down sir, while you still have a shred of dignity!"

Strangely, that did the trick. What a shitting hypocrite.

6:30 PM

Frankly, the people also here would have looked askance at Donald Wallace if they weren't so relieved to have made it to the terminal unscathed. Russell certainly would, but at least some simple gratitude for his life had emerged, prevent that otherwise timely comment.

Both of them were sweaty dirty messes. "There's only one ticket here, my boy." Russell noted as he sat down. "You're staying here?" Donald, standing, smiled painfully and nodded firmly. "Tell Argus I'm taking a leave of absence since I've got you out. Your stay's over, my job's finished... But what's going on in the Congo is just getting started. I'm not leaving until the innocents in this country are good and safe again."

"Not likely with this government, or the next!" Russell blurted out incredulously, but he softened politely. "Well, I gave up my idealism a long time ago. Perhaps you and others will prove me wrong." "Yes," Donald murmured. The loudspeakers called out Russell's flight the prepare pre-boarding."Goodbye, sir." "Goodbye, Mr. Evo."

Donald waved goodbye before walking away. Asani was already calling the riots over and calling on the rebels to give in. Fat chance, mate. Donald had met one of the Doctors Without Borders personel in the city, a Ms. Natalie Joan, the last time he was present. Turned out to be a friend of Evie.

She'd told him where the national DWB HQ was in Kinshasa... time to go see if they'd appreciate some pro bono services as a guard... bet they would, he decided, picking up some lemonade and a dozen pretzels at a food stand in the airport.

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Dr. Joan was perfectly happy to have his help, however the staff in Kinshasa was packing up and preparing for imminent official disfavor. Which in dictatorial places like these meant: "we'll arrest and quietly execute you if you be the likely pains that you will be." She explained that Doctors Without Borders was going to hold a press conference on the strife in North Kivu, and Evo agreed this would bring on Asani's ire.

Fortunately, the elite's enhanced coordination and super-strength made the packing and transportation process much much faster than it would have otherwise been. Soon enough, the headquarters was clean as a whistle, and the caravan of doctors, supplies, a handful of baseline guards and Evo quickly fled through the city.

Eventually, some bright and attentive fellow in the government caught on to the maneuver and the implications thereof. Thus, at the last checkpoint before departing the city, the police there insisted that the Doctors Without Borders staff were required to go to the airport.

Frustrated at being unable to help those unfortunates in the city, filled with contemptuous disgust at the Asani loyalists- who the truck gossip had already proclaimed to be filthy rapists and torturers as well as killers- Dr. Joan argued with the officious police lieutenant in their way until the normally mild-mannered Nurse Sekugahara, a Japanese man with a pleasant face broke down.

"To hell with you butchers!" He howled in accented French- and his driver gunned the engines. Speeding away, the lieutenant and his men pulled back out of common sense, and the others took the signal and the DWB convoy was off to the races.

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1:30 AM, May 12, 2011

a small town in Bandundu Province, Democratic Republic of the Congo

The dark night clung heavily over the small town of half-ruined wooden buildings, where the best building in town was a practically mothballed halfway hotel. Fortunately for the town, and for their attitude towards the DWB group, there was lots on hard cash to be spent. Given the poverty in this place, they were as much thankful as anything.

Donald, being without the need to really sleep, stood guard crouched on top on one of the outside vans. The worst that could happen was that he could get bored. Given the power to extract so much sensory information from even a rustle of the wind, it didn't seem that way.

Besides, a black mercenary nicknamed Jerry Springer (his real name was Jeremiah Springer, so it was an amusingly potent jest at his expense) and a guard going by Franklin on watch at this shift with their nova counterpart. The paranoia all three displayed a slight tad of was not unwarranted.

Though unspoken, everyone knew what was waiting for them if they were caught by Congolese forces.

Donald opened his nose out as well, catching the scents of decay, feces and sweat... and then separate body odors he didn't recognize, faintly from further down the town. He leaped down soundlessly, and Jerry bit back the joke he was making to Franklin. "Lock and load," Evo warned then, "and get the other mercs awake. Just be ready."

Then, he darted off into the night, heading a block down before leaping with perfect force onto the edge of a wooden shack's room, standing with both feet on the corner, but hardly going to waver or fall off. With the vantage point such as it was, he could see and note the sources of the smells.

Two squads of five men in regular clothing, but all carrying clearly military weapons with military precision, each moving in parallel down a different side street, heading for the hotel. A death dealing unit had arrived all right. Time to wipe it out.

Evo steeled himself for what he had to do, then leaped over to the squad to his right, coming down on the centrally-situated soldier. The impact broke the unfortunate man's neck, but the others had bigger problems. From the DNA on his back, Evo gruesomely extruded a long tentacle with a bladed end. His arms split into two each, four arms altogether, from which he popped his nail claws.

The superstitious baselines had only a scant moment which they wasted on considering what seemed to have been the malign spirt that had appeared into their midst, too late. The tentacle shot forward and decapitated the front two with swift, neat precision. Evo had turned his back to them, choosing to use each pair of clawed hands on a different soldier.

They were corpses in the blink of an eye.

Dispassionately, he moved around the streets, to get behind the other five Congolese soldiers. They were taking cover behind a house and observing the defensive preparations that Franklin and Springer had assembled with their roused comrades.

Focusing his control onto the blade tentacle with utmost will, Evo swept it about in a cutting circuit and chopped through all their necks. Again, beheading them. Rather barbaric he admitted, but an unpalatable truth, so was war. At least he was doing this in protection of people.

And, a darker corner of him reflected, he shown his stuff, even if only to himself. Now, as he retracted his claws and returned his body to normality (blood did still drip off his fingers), he raised his hands and walked out to the hotel with caution. It would be ironic if Franklin or his cohort shot Evo by accident.

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1000 hours, May 12, 2011

The Republic of Congo- The Democratic Republic of the Congo border

They weren't so happy with him as they had been. Evo wasn't surprised, since after a very long night, he'd come to some unpalatable but very necessary conclusions. Communicating them to Dr. Joan and Nurse Sekugahara and helping them to reach the same conclusions was an entirely different animal.

"You're telling us to leave?" Dr. Joan had been aghast, and the Nurse had stared at him with a sense of betrayal. It did sting, that initial reception, but he stuck to his guns and explained: "They sent a baseline team after us, no problem. But next they'll send an Elite, or even worse, a nova-baseline unit. There's only one of me, and if they attach this importance to rubbing out our slice of DWB... soon enough they'll pull it off."

"Einherjar has chosen to guard those thousands of refugees in North Kivu!" Sekugahara remonstrated with the simple faith and support for novas that did somewhat run common in the Japanese nowadays.

Evo had learned about Ein's actions in the east while doing the headquarters clean-out, and he had marveled at the moral will of the Elite- that he'd demonstrated his reputed code of honor in the strongest way possible. But he'd taken that into account and wasn't swayed.

"Honestly, he's more powerful than I am, certainly." Evo admitted without a hint of shame. "And he's still liable to run into trouble if it goes into the long haul, relatively speaking." His eyes firmed up. "My job is to keep you safe, and the only other options theoretically... is to join up with another faction for protection."

Doctors Without Borders was expressly non-political, so that at last forced the passionate two to douse their passions with a bit of pragmatism.

That was then. Now, the air was damp, and a light drizzle was popping down here and there through the humidity. Evo wiped some sweat that still clung tightly to his brow before hoping out of the truck. The group had paused for a second, as they were nearly there and Evo explained to Dr. Joan that he had intentions of staying.

The middle-aged woman recognized the general intent behind his words, and lost a little of her disappointment in him, seeing a second Einherjar (or semi-Einherjar, to be truthful about power levels) even if she didn't know what he had planned.

Evo took a change of clothing, a map, a little set of high calorie nutrition bars, and the like, packed into a little bag. He took a furtive glance towards the distance, and quirked a eye as something unsettled him. Just a feeling, but something wasn't right.

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The attack came without warning, a sudden rush accompanied by a crackling sound and a smell of ozone as a large bulky shape slammed into the smaller Donald with earth-rattling force. The larger nova had emerged from the treeline and crossed the intervening ground with inhuman speed, catching Evo looking in the wrong direction for just long enough for the fast-moving assassin to close.

Click to reveal.. (Strength & Brawl roll)
Roll: [7, 8, 6, 10, 4, 6, 10, 1, 7, 8, 6, 7]. Total Successes: 7.

No defence allowed as Evo caught off guard.

Damage roll: Lethal soak 12 leaves 13 dice. Roll: [7, 2, 1, 3, 5, 5, 3, 9, 6, 6, 10, 9, 10, 1, 2]. Total Successes: 5.

5 Lethal Damage

Knockback: 7 Bashing, soaked as per puny human rules

Electricity wreathed the dark form of the paid killer, crackling across his body as he delivered a high-voltage charged fist square into the middle of the young elite's back. The doctor screamed and the other guards cursed in shock as Donald hurtled into the truck he'd just vacated, crashing through the door at an angle that took him out through the windshield, showering the area in fragments of glass and metal.

"Awww-yeah, bitch!" chortled the other elite as Donald hit the ground, muscles twitching from the discharge of electricity in his assailant's punch. Evo pulled himself to his feet, his redundant organs and superhuman vitality having let him absorb the blow that would have killed a normal man. The other elite jumped up onto the hood of the truck, electricity crackling around his form as the baselines scrambled to get clear. "Payback's a muthafucker when it's you don't see them coming, ain't it?" The large black man, grinning like a fiend and appearing to be bleeding from his eyes, gave Evo just enough time to realise he was in for a fight before leaping down at him...

Click to reveal.. (Initiative roll)
Roll: [2]. Total Successes: 0.
Initiative 13

Evo, roll Init. smile
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Click to reveal.. (Initiative )
Roll: [8]. Initiative 19

Now that Evo's aware of the foe, he's turning the Spines and Digging Claws 'on' and spending 2 QP to regenerate those levels.

Evo reacted fast, baring his teeth in a snarl as he sensed the oncoming attack, but his super-fast reflexes were kicking in and he had the edge. "You're on!" Evo announced with a sharp yell, though the other onlookers had to overcome their shock as super-hard spikes of bone shot out, cutting through clothing and flesh of the young elite like butter, but he didn't seem to bleed or be harmed. They formed a defensive grid of lethal points, even the flesh around him and the nasty wound on his back began to melt over and cover up as if becoming nonexistent.

At the same time, claws extruded from his nails, looking to be cutting edge and capable of harm.

Click to reveal.. (Declaration & First Action)

Three actions: Bodymorph, Strike with Digging Claws, Dodge

Bodymorph: at -3 from MA penalties
Roll: [2, 2, 10] + mega [6, 4]. Total Successes: 1.

Shifting in Multiple Arms.

More holes tore in the shoulder area of the shirt Evo wore, for an extra pair of arms seemed to sprout out, sporting the same pairs of claws. He moved them into unison...

Click to reveal.. (Second Action)
Activating Rapid Strike for 1 QP
Dex+Martial Arts, defaulting to Dex and at -3 for MA penalties after reduction by Extra Limbs.
Roll: [4] + mega [1, 2, 10]. Total Successes: 3.

If hit: [10] + 10d10, assuming no defense. Adjust as necessary.

...Whipping into an uncomplicated flurry of rapid and speedy strikes that cut less but dealt more in a unified assault upon the electric foe.

Click to reveal.. (Third Action)
Dodge roll at -4, after MA penalties reduced by Extra Limbs.
Roll: [1, 9, 6] + mega [10, 8, 5]. Total Successes: 6.

Click to reveal.. (Status)
Health: 3L taken
QP: 21/26
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Click to reveal..
Spending 2 qp, activating Quickness x2. Claws and Immolate active from previous round.
Block (Dex & Martial Arts) Roll: [2, 4, 5, 2, 8, 1, 3] + mega [6, 2, 2]. Total Successes: 1.
1 success.

Durability roll Roll: [8, 4]. Total Successes: 1.

Damage: 10B+9d10B

Reduced to 1B and 9d10B

Damage roll Roll: [7, 6, 7, 10, 10, 4, 6, 3, 7, 3, 1]. Total Successes: 5.

6 Bashing damage

Evo's wild attack caught the enemy Elite off-guard and with his defenses down. Overconfident, and certain of his victory over the less experienced Argus operative, he found himself pummeled hard in the centre of his chest before he'd even landed in the dirt. At the point of contact Evo felt a harsh jolt run up his arm as the coruscating electricity around his foes body snapped at him, but it seemed to leave him smarting but unharmed. Of more concern was that his spines hadn't been able to really penetrate his foe's quantum reinforced skin.

"Fuckin' punk!" The assassin spat in the dust at Evo's feet and came in hard, lightning-wreathed hands crackling through the air as he threw a left at Evo's stomach. Sucking in his gut, Evo managed to sidestep with millimetres to spare.

Unfortunately, the stomach-shot was a set-up, designed to be followed by a punishing right cross. Up against a nova clearly faster than him, Evo was caught wide open.
Click to reveal.. (Martial Arts roll)

Donald was again hurled backwards, his teeth biting through his own lip as the quantum-charged current augmenting his opponent's strikes caused his muscles to spasm and his hair to stand on end. He kept his footing, but could feel a large number of his redundant internal organs had failed critically in that last hit, and his mouth was filled with his own blood.

His attacker was in just as bad shape, the last blow having brought him into contact with Donald's spines. One arm had been lacerated beyond use, and the young elite noted with satisfaction that, initial fury spent, the larger man looked worse than Evo felt. The two elites locked eyes, both instinctively knowing that, one way or the other, it would be over in the next few seconds...
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Click to reveal.. (OOC)

Spending 2 QP to regenerate two HL. Rapid Strike used.

Evo continued to heal himself, but it was too little, too slow. He was facing a far more skilled fighter than himself, and though the battle could still be his... He could die if this failed... But no, they were counting on him... everyone else here...

Click to reveal.. (Dex+Martial Arts, defaulting to Dex at -2 MA penalty, after reducing for Extra Limbs.)

Click to reveal.. (Dex+Martial Arts, defaulting to Dex at -3 penalty after Extra Limbs)

His claws cut and chopped, but he was slowed and he felt it might be over...

Click to reveal.. (Dodge roll, at -4 penalty after Extra Limbs reduction. Use of WP for free sux.)

Click to reveal.. (Status)

Health: 8L taken
QP: 18/26
WP: 6/7
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Click to reveal..
Spending 2 qp, activating Quickness x2. Claws and Immolate active from previous.

1st Block roll: Roll: [10, 10, 7, 7, 1, 2, 3, 10, 4, 9] + mega [8, 9, 1]. Total Successes: 10.

2nd Block roll: Roll: [1, 10, 3, 7, 6, 7, 5, 1] + mega [8, 6, 2]. Total Successes: 5.

The enemy nova sneered through the blood covering his face as he parried first one, then the other of Evo's strikes. The jolting pain of the contact hurt Evo each time, adding adding to the fire of his existing wounds. "Say goodnight, boy." hissed the other elite as he wound up for what was sure to be a show-stopper...

Click to reveal.. (Jerry Assault rifle Burst)

The crackling sound of the killer's electrical field was eclipsed by the thunderous sound of gunfire. The black man with the bloody face spun from the force of the bullets and fell to the ground at Donald's feet, a look of dumb surprise on his face as he tried to speak without air in his lungs for a futile moment, then stopped moving altogether.

Franklin and Jerry lowered their smoking rifles but kept them ready, staring across the dead elite's body at Donald.
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1200 hours, May 12, 2011

A border town in The Republic of Congo

The aftermath had been a blur, and Donald was in no way intent on giving the slightest remembrance to what had happened right now. Right now, he was sitting with some rotgut booze on the back step of the rear door of the town's dingy bar, and he planned on getting disgustingly drunk, even though his body wouldn't let him. He didn't even feel that buzzed.

He tossed a seventh beer can to the ground, uncaring of the litter pile that was accumulating with rapid speed. He was paying, and so the bartender was more than willing to let the white nova drink as he wanted and keep this fact from the other DWB people.

New clothes worn, but only now was Evo fully recovering the juice he spent to knit up all the wounds in rapid order. So close... for the second time in his life, and in a more painful manner, he had nearly died. And he'd been outmatched, that was the truly stinging part. He'd dealt the one sharp blow, but that was all.

Once the mystery Elite had realized not to fuck around, Evo's loss was practically a done deal. Could he really bother to do this? To take on real soldiers... he wasn't a real soldier...

Then then the answer came to him, offering a way to balance his need for improvement with the need to aid somehow. Go to the northwest. Noncombatants needed protection there. But don't be found, strike from the shadows... leave no foe alive. Cutting his teeth on the smaller fry in order to be ready for the big figures.

So he had a plan now... but best get started on the training now... Donald got up to see if there were any tips he could get from Jerry or Franklin.

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