Tanklet

Hey BaBs! Long time no see! Nice to know the wistful reminiscence has hit at least one of "the old guard". Welcome to Homecoming!

Wow that's a whole lot of words. Words that contradict other words. Words that have nothing to do with the topic. And words that are devoid of facts or research. Wow. Just. Wow. That's a Masterclass. Lordt just wow.

Y'all jumping down the wrong person's throat for the wrong reasons. You're assigning "alt dumping" to DawL when they are NOT the person that said it. DawL admitted to, at best, campaigning. At best. Guess what tho, someone else in this topic admitted to doing the same thing, but for a different base. Crickets. I also noticed every time VL got one vote, Rampage immediately got 2-3. I saw that happen for days. Crickets. What's more, the plea to visit the bases was just that. A plea. A request. A suggestion. Not a rule. The community voted for who they wanted using their own subjective rubric. That's what community choice is. Now they're being told that doesn't count and they have to be chaperoned, and vote again. I don't log on this game for this. I'm not doing it, just to prove that I'm going to vote the way I already voted. I'm sure folks will get cranky about another account that doesn't post to the forums but "suddenly found it just to whine" but oh well. This. This right here. This is the reason I stay out the forums.

I tried the Copy Character button and it said "Service Unavailable" Help? EDIT NEVERMIND! I needed to log into Beta first I guess before the button would work for me. FIXED IT!

Sure, be happy to help!

Group Name: The Wild Cards Alignment: Rogue Roleplay: Moderate to Heavy RP Discord: https://discord.gg/QhynqeJudS Recruitment Officers: @Dahlia Haven (Eerie Siren #0777 on DIscord), @King Lizard(Dakthulhu#4169 on Discord) or @Tanklet(Tanklet#7231 on Discord) Recruitment Message: "As a merc with your ears to the ground, you hear people whisper about The Wild Cards making bold moves around town, and their ranks are growing. Reputation, rewards, and allies are invaluable in this line of work. Maybe it's time to seek out a Wild Card, and add your unique set of skills to their roster." OOC: Listen up Mercenaries! The Wild Cards run Redside content, AE Arcs and farm teams. We encourage player run content/RP daily, run 'Wild Card Wednesdays' every other week with pop up teams happening on the regular, and scheduled farm teams every other Sunday adjacent to WCW's. We're regularly spotted in Black Cat and Black Friday for social RP, and have very active Discord full of IC and OOC shenanigans! For the most part we are EST; however; we have players that are active all hours of the day. Wanna join the fastest growing, most deadly and active mercenary group on homecoming? Then you'll be coming to the right place.

So, I definitely think the basics of a prison are a great foundation to start. Visit room, commissary, medical wing, solitary, recreational court of some sort, super max solitary cells, library, administration building Just some rough ideas

My girl Sonja (Valiant Katana)

I think if you have the time, motivation, and building capacity to build the thing, go for it. Cuz the same folks saying "why, what for, I wouldn't do it if I were you" are the same folks who'll end up using it once it's made public 🙂 A super jail (Zig or otherwise) has great potential for RP. Made use of one recently.

☺️

The UI for this does some kind of jumping thing - has since Live. I was wondering if it would be a low hanging fruit to make it easier to use. When you are using backspace, and moving from one line up to the previous, it actually jumps your cursor in a spot you never intended for it to go. When I click my mouse, the mouse will sometimes end up where I did not click it - so I use my arrow keys to where I'm going. This is all on Edits. I don't experience these behaviors when typing out a new bio. Also.....any chance for maaayyyybeeee 500 more characters <.<

((Present Day)) Sonja's body exploded with rage, as she tear assed on a rampage from one part of Paragon City to the other. She didn't care where the fight was, or who it was for, or who it was against. She was there. It was the *only* way she knew how to work through what she had just learned. Human experimentation would be JUST like her mother. And everything AJ shared about the experience was par for the course with the way Commander Kincaid's Knives did things. Not only that, but the timing of it ....the timing and the location was what hit Sonja the hardest. He was taken years after Sonja was, but where he was found when he managed to escape ... After rampaging through Paragon City, Sonja finally stopped long enough to grab the few supplies she'd need for the trip, and let her mind do the math - calculating timing, thinking in a more detached light than she had been earlier. More than one paramilitary group took him, and they had held him for three years. They broke him, mended him, broke him, mended him, and broke him again. During that same time, Sonja was undergoing reprogramming protocol at the hands of Faustian and The Collaborative: A faction of Family and ....more than one paramilitary group. Sonja knew her mother despised the increasingly fusion like nature of nanotechnological enhancements. She utterly despised magic through and through. And she turned her nose at the idea of obscure serums. If there's one thing Veronica Kincaid was when it came to human enhancements - and human perfection - she was a purist. And, while AJ might not want to believe Sonja, she was certain there was something about him that set him apart from your every day civilian. There's no way they'd have held him for three years otherwise. They'd have killed him just like they killed his hiking partners. Working theory...? Given the timing, and the location of where AJ was found, all evidence pointed towards Veronica Kincaid having converted Sonja's old cabin into a hidden base of operations. It was the perfect hideout. Remote, plenty of wooded areas for her Knives and Blades to train. Plenty of room to grow ......... Very few people actually wandering by........... And those that did...? Veronica would have scanned them on approach, and decided their fate from the safety of her surveillance. And that's where AJ and his friends crossed the wrong woods, on the wrong day. But this was all just a theory right now. A theory backed by evidence of the fact that AJ was found in the SAME town her cabin was located near. But a theory all the same. So she needed to find proof. Sonja just hoped proof was still at the cabin this long after the fact. Digging out one of the old aliases that Asher had left her, Sonja rented a car. Even though it'd been ten years, Sonja still felt as if she knew the area like the back of her hand - including the roads to the cabin. As much as she wanted to be wrong about this hunch - there was this sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that this hunch was going to solidify into fact. So, if she was right? Well, that meant that Veronica Kincaid had experimented on AJ to fuel the protocol that turned Sonja into ....whatever the hell she is today. Something else that Sonja felt was her fault. And if that fact turned out to be true... Then what?

((The events below take place roughly 2 weeks ago)) Sonja made good use of her access key to Jokers Wild, and went straight for the Staff Only area. If a ten mile run wasn't enough to outrace her thoughts - or her past - then beating the hell out of something would have to do. And if the front of Jokers Wild was any indication, Sonja knew there'd have to be some staff gym facility in back and she was right. Sonja made her way to the gym in quick strides, finding the unsuspecting combat dummy and going to town. She landed several punches and kicks, her mind replaying her run in with Jenn. Under normal circumstances, she'd be happy to see her friend and former teammate. But not when it came to this.... Who the hell told Jenn to have the bright idea of having GENI bot running facial recognition scans on her and Asher FOR TEN YEARS!??!?!?! Who DOES that?! Jenn Lincoln, that's who. More punches. At first, the reunion was pleasant, although Sonja felt responsible for the fall of Codex not long after she left. She really thought she was doing the right thing and, while she logically knew that the two events could very well be unrelated - she felt to blame nonetheless. Sonja didn't have many 'friends', and she could tell Jenn felt abandoned. That stung. Especially having dealt with a different kind of abandonment herself. She wouldn't wish that shit on anybody .... More jabs and kicks. All thought of how Sonja would make this up to Jenn vanished, however, when conversation moved towards the topic of Asher. "Did you find him?" Jenn asked. "If I had, I'd have been back here sooner," Sonja replied. And, while that was true, there were ten years worth of pertinent details that Jenn didn't yet know. Sonja didn't think this was the time to fill her in on every detail As the flashbacks now played in Sonja's mind, she took her frustrations out on the combat dummy. Jenn talked about when Asher left. The things he took with him. The things he left behind. And how she'd been searching for *both* of them, hoping beyond hope that she'd find the two of them together somewhere. Punch. Punch. Punch "He HAD to have left for a reason, Sonja. I'm sure, if we find him, you can beat it out of him..." Jenn said. Kick. Punch. Kick "if I find him, I -will- kill him," was Sonja's response. And there it was. In the room. In the D. In the air where she couldn't take back. Not that she would. The sonofabitch owed her a debt, and if he wasn't dead yet, she'd extract that debt and send him to hell herself. Sonja's body was drenched in sweat as she sparred with her demons. Her past. And how a friend could soon be turned into an enemy. She was so briefly distracted that she didn't hear the footsteps of one of her new teammates until she was at the door to the gym, bottles of water in hand. The upgrades to Sonja's body caused a quick recovery from the brutalizing workout. Hopefully the conversation would do the same for her mind. Not that she was ANY good in conversation. But she needed to start somewhere.

*March 1st 2022* *Port Oakes* Sonja was never one to frequent the Isles; one because she was spoiled in her upbringing in the wooded nature surroundings of Paragon City, and two she just was not a big fan of the sights and smells of Etoile. But, one thing was certain - there's no better place to conduct business. Everyone here had a price. But you had to be careful to not be outbid by a competitor, or someone who'd pay more just to make sure you were dead. Sonja's old contacts here were long gone by now. You can imagine the turnover for dealers, thieves, and brokers to be pretty frequent. Especially after a ten years. But Sonja had always prided herself on having just the right amount of luck to find who she needed when she needed. And that's what happened a couple of nights ago at the Stormcage. Marzian did Sonja a solid with the intel he passed along to her. And while he said it was in exchange for their civil banter, Sonja knew enough to know that just as easily as a broker gives information is as easily as he could sell it to someone else, or bury you with it. She had to be cautious when dealing with him. His loyalty was to money, leverage, information. Nothing more. Sonja glanced at the card in her hand as she made her way between buildings, fully suited and cloaked, headed for the destination indicated on the card. Figures The Collaborative would choose a place far from Paragon City to try and regroup - to come up with a plan to fully cage her mind again. Sonja never took assignments in the Isles. Never frequented them.... But their miscalculation was assuming she wouldn't hunt them down wherever they were... The warehouse looked old and abandoned, one of Emile's long forgotten - and failed - front companies that Victor quickly swooped in and picked up for himself. Inside, Sonja noticed the lights were kept dim for a reason - but shadowy silhouettes were still easy for her to make out - especially with the tech powering the HUD on her shades. Inside were only two of The Collaborative bosses - Victor and Veronica. A screen displayed the face of Dr. Faustian. A second screen displayed the face of Dr. Aeon. There were three men with briefcases, and a room full of heavily armed guards. The meeting was just about to commence. Jumping from roof to roof, until she finally landed like a cat on her target, Sonja aimed a small listening device to the window - picking up muffled voices inside. "One of my associates has brought a nerve agent with him," Faustian began," If you can find a way to deploy this to Blade Rayne, it will incapacitate her long enough to return her to the Ikeq Island facility. Her ... treatment is complicated. I will only be able to give prognosis when I can properly observe, test, and triage the asset. Anything less is hypothesis and circumstantial. This includes whether or not I will be able to reimplement the protocols in the asset's brain. And, if I am able to reapply her protocols, there is no telling how long it will take before she is once again field ready. Victor let out a curse. "Well, there is another alternative," Aeon spoke up, "And, perhaps one closer to home base. And, certainly an alternative with far greater options. My associates have brought a sample of platelets taken from Malaise. Now, this was no small task. Acquiring such powerful psychoactive material is as dangerous as it is thrilling. And, as such, these samples are not volume enough to be of your benefit. They are quite expensive. After all, I have yet to be paid. However! This sample is proof of concept. I have discovered a way to render these platelets programmable. They can infect and render a subject under the complete command of another. You will be able to regain control of your wayward asset..." This time it was Sonja's mother who let out a string of expletives, threatening Aeon's life over a mind control incident involving Victor. Sonja filed that information away, to determine what - if anything- to do with it later. Dr. Aeon laughed, "Oh, my dear. If you were truly going to kill me, you would not have allowed me to be invited to this meeting. Although, you are Commander Kincaid. On the odd twist of reality that you actually did try to end my life - this is why I am taking this call electronically, and as we speak I am routing my signal throughout the globe rendering it nigh untraceable. Now, shall we get back to business?" That was Sonja's cue. Crashing through the warehouse, Sonja took out the cameras feeding the meeting. She took out the guards next. Before the "associates" had time to run, Sonja made them drop their cases and leave emptyhanded. They were of no threat to her. The docs that sent them were. And they already knew she was here which meant acting fact. The associates left in a hurry. One actually looked like he pissed his pants. Sonja lodged daggers into her mother and Victor's shoulders. Not enough to kill them. Just enough to keep them preoccupied while she made off with the chemical compounds. "Now that your eggheads have lost their science, their rates will skyrocket higher than either of you can afford. So, let me make this clear. My work. My way. My life. My rules. And don't ever let me have this conversation with either of you again......." Sonja made her way to the window to the sounds of both her mother and Victor cursing - unable to lift their arms. Victor bellowed, "HOW" Sonja smirked, "You underestimate me. That's how ...." Sonja leapt from the building without another word.

VIRTUE FOR LYFE! I was @Tanklet on Live. And I'm the same global here. Figured it'd be easier for folks to spot me if I kept all things the same. I'm only JUST now getting back in game - well circa a few months ago. Would LOVE to find old cohorts again! One already found me! Some (!) of my characters: "Valiant Katana" - Sonja Kincaid. I have remade her here, and wrote her story on the forums that catches her up to present day and leads to new action "Daria St. Claire" (Smith) aka "WynterMaiden" - I will (unfortunately) NOT be remaking her here as she's happily in retirement with her husband Matt & their 2 (albeit grown) children. UNLESS my RP partner also comes out of retirement. We'll see. "Lady Fyre Stryke" aka Kiara - Same as above. "Violent Overcharge" - I ran her with a VG back in the day. She was fun. Quirky hacker. I might bring her back. "Sera Delina" - Kiara's daughter. She's also happily retired. Don't think I married her off - yet - but the relationship was certainly heading there. So I won't be remaking her. There were others, but I played the above most frequently. See y'all in game!

*Skyraiders Compound - Striga Island* Immediately after landing at the compound, the captain in charge of the mission called everything in. To be fair, he was shocked as s*** that Blade Rayne didn't kill them all on the way back to base. He was glad to still HAVE his life - for now. In fact, he was so at peace with having made it back to the facility alive that he was totally fine with the realization that The Collaborative might just kill him anyway. Was that f****d up? Probably. But dying at the hands of Blade Rayne just seemed the worst case scenario. Speaking of The Collaborative, the full contingent of bosses marched towards him. Victor Marcon was the first one to act, wrapping a meaty hand around his throat and plastering his body up against a wall. "Sir, I don't know what happened, " the captain sputtered out, not waiting for permission to speak - especially with the precarious position his wind pipe was in and the delicate time his oxygen supply had left. Victor dropped him. "I told you everything I know," the captain bowed his head, preparing for death. but death did not come. "Inconsequential," was Victor's only word. The captain knew the word was Victor's definition of his life. It wasn't as important as the asset housed in the cell immediately to his left. With a turn of his heel, that's the immediate direction Marcon and the others went to. A contingent of operatives following behind them. As many as they could fit inside. Sonja casually walked from one side of the room to the other. She'd been pacing, but it wasn't completely a nervous pacing. She knew the camera trained on her had been tracking and assessing her movements, trying to pick apart what might be going through her head. Sure, there were nerves. Excited nerves. Adrenaline. And she could finally FEEL it coursing through her system. The last remnants of the blockade protocol these b*****ds put on her mind. The door to her cement room unlocked, and Sonja stopped her pacing. Every boss of The Collaborative - save for Stein - filed into the room So, too, did operatives from every faction, except the Skyraiders who stood guard outside. The doctor walked in ....the only one of them to still give Sonja pause. She knew she'd have to assess that later. "There's nothing he can do, you know," Sonja commented, idly staring at the fingers of her gloved hand, "you do know that, right?" Sonja continued, "You don't have the tech here. You don't have the resources." Guns cocked all around Sonja, drawing a slow smile from her face as she slowly and methodically stepped close and close to the shot callers of the group. Sonja stretched her hands out to either side of herself, "Now, if you really wanted me dead, you all would have gone for the shot long, LONG before now. So let's put those away, shall we? Before it gets really messy in here. And if you make me sleep with rotting bodies, "I'll end my life, and your investment, if I don't kill every last one of you first." The sweetness sin Sonja's tone was a complete contrast to the venomous violence and rage her words conveyed. Victor was lifting his hands, to hold off an actual shootout. Bullseye, the b****rd blinked. Sonja KNEW it'd be Marcon to do it, and she leaped into action, breaking a Knives operative's kneecaps and neck before grabbing a grenade from her belt, flicking out the pin and holding the trigger. Sonja slid behind her mother in an instant. Commander Kincaid's legs were, next, entwined with her daughter's as the two of them were back up against one of the concrete walls and simultaneously on the floor. Veronica Kincaid couldn't get leverage to break from her daughter. Her legs were bound. Her neck was bound at a precarious and uncomfortable angle by Sonja's left elbow. Sonja's right arm rested gently across her chest. While Veronica's arms were free, any sudden movements would launch the grenade from Sonja's hands and they'd all die. Not only could Veronica not see the exact positioning of the grenade from the way Sonja had her neck and head pulled back, but she knew even reaching for it would be futile. Sonja's reflexes were impeccable. She's launch the grenade before Veronica's muscles even finished receiving the impulse from her brain to make the move..... She sighed....warring with both rage and admiration for her child. "That's a good mother," Sonja purred, sensing the conclusion Commander Kincaid came to in the slightest motions of her mother's body, "Now" Sonja gave a quick, passing glance around the room before settling on the bosses of The Collaborative, "let's ....renegotiate the terms of our agreement with each other. ........Shall we?" Carter and Brook didn't hide their momentary confusion. They'd have staked their life on Blade Rayne either killing them all - herself included - or forcing them to release her. This . . . . this was something new. "Now, let's be clear here. You need me. Alive. And in peak physical form and condition a whole lot more than I need any of you, and a whole lot more than I need or want to *be* alive." That was always the trouble with Blade Rayne. Well, it was both the trouble, and what made her the best at what she did. The flaw that was a feature. Blade Rayne was absolutely ready to die at any moment. That's part of what made her the best. The desire to survive, to live, to thrive - that desire that often led to the fear of death. That desire was void in this woman. The Collaborative was silent, still. Sonja smirked, almost chuckling in mirth filled laughter, "Well, now that I have your attention, and I see that you've done the math. My proposal is simple. I'll stay on as your operative. For the time being. Ops of MY code! Only. And I have freedom to move about this hellhole of a city you all brought me back to. If I so much as *smell* a tracker on me, I'll end your investment. Or, you can always just outright blow me straight to hell. Choice is yours." "What assurances do we ha-" Victor spoke but Sonja cut him off. "YOU DON'T!" Sonja's voice punctuated the room, "This is the s*** you get for daring to come after me. I represent a decade, and countless zeroes. And you *will* still pay, by the way. Only it's *me* you'll be paying this time. Cash. Directly. Or an off shore holding account that's accessible by me alone. You pick. This is your new reality. I'll keep the concrete cell for now. Kinda like it. But I'll reserve the right for something better later on. I've no desire to reside outside of compounds. For the moment." The willingness to reside in compounds, and in the concrete cells of all places, really took everyone by surprise. She was nuts. but everyone in this room was so far in this now, that they didn't have any other options than to see this through. Not yet at least. Perhaps agreeing to Blade Rayne's demands was the best way to buy them all some time to regroup and regain the upper hand. Sonja continued, "I'll come and go. I'll ...*try*...to get back in by curfew..." Sonja grinned, "As an act of good faith ..." Sonja nodded to the discarded grenade pin on the floor, "Send a Blade to fetch the pin. Promise I won't kill her." Sonja knew every single faction leader was weighing and measuring ways to regain the upper hand. She'd let them think they could figure it out. Because, one thing was for certain, every single last one of them knew that she was ready to die that day. Or any day. Resignation of death was a powerful weapon. Even more powerful than the skeletomuscular upgrades that a small country's fortune bought and paid for. She really needed to test this body out, now that she was more in control of it. The faction leaders agreed. The Blade fetched the pin. it was placed back into the grenade. Sonja hopped up, disentangling from her mother who tried to take a swipe at her - which Sonja easily dodged. Victor grabbed Veronica's elbow before the woman could take another swing. Blade Rayne's body was the *best* in upgrades that money could buy, but she was still bats*** crazy. If Blade Rayne lost patience just once, right now, they'd all die. The Collaborative backed out of the cell, and issued orders for Sonja's access to all 6 compounds. They were all secure enough that if Blade Rayne dared double cross them by bringing in the capes, any and all of the buildings had protocols that would Chernobyl everyone in range. Asset or no asset, betrayal wasn't tolerated. However, something seemed to indicate, for now at least, that Blade Rayne had no intentions of running to the cops, capes, and other blue bloods for her freedom. While that left The Collaborative time to figure out what the hot f*** was going on, and how to control it. That left Sonja Blade Rayne Kincaid with the freedom to roam the streets.... (( TO BE CONTINUED IN GAME!)) ((There are LOT of OOC convos that could make for great IC opportunities - especially where Sonja's mind is concerned. I DO want to work this char into some form of vigilante esque redemption. I'm interested in seeing what that looks like.))

With her cloak fully engaged, Sonja took her position atop the roof of a small clothing consignment shop across the street from the Brickstown City Council's office. She knew her target, so she needn't have the voices behind the earbud sitting tucked in her ear. Sonja turned off the earpiece. She knew her babysitters were around here somewhere, and wouldn't dare risk the operation just to get closer in proximity to her. Judge Barthol, of the 3rd district court, was set to meet with city council leaders to day to discuss what he has dubbed the, "disturbing and rampant uptick in weapons trafficking and violent crime he's seen coming through his courtroom," and urge council leaders to take these situations up the chain of command to the state if they had to. Barthol had been a pain in the ass to almost every faction of The Collaborative, so taking him out was a high priority. Sonja surveyed the streets below, assessing risks, threats, entry points and exit points. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a young woman who seemed to be standing on the corner for no reason. She wasn't near a bus stop. She wasn't a street walker. Something appeared off. But then the woman took out her phone, looked at the time, looked left, looked right, and appeared exasperated as if waiting for someone. Down below: Megan's heart rate was racing, even behind her practiced movements and façade of waiting for someone. Hank had got her into gear immediately upon sensing Sonja's attention locked on to them. Hank instructed her to throw her hands up in exasperation and walk the short distance to the bus stop down the block - and to huddle into her coat as if super cold. While it was briskly cold, Meagan was gifted in mind over body, but she got the idea that the actions were just covers so she complied. At the bus stop, Hank instructed Meagan to teleport to the spot just to the right and behind Sonja on the rooftop. Meagan hated the feeling of teleportation. It felt like all her insides were outside, then suddenly back inside. It was hell if she was ever on a full stomach, but Henry made her practice and practice until she got used to it. With a sigh, Meagan teleported, landing in the spot that was instructed. In the next second, a dagger came whizzing at her center of mass. "Holy s***" Meagan cursed. Thankfully, the entropic essence that allowed her to teleport - among other things - did not fully recede from her body. It stopped the knife before it was able to lodge itself inside of Meagan's stomach. The knife dropped to the ground. "N-now wait a second, Blade Rayne, I'm not here with beef!" Meagan pleaded, holding her outstretched hands in front of her. Sonja unsheathed her blades, "Should've thought about that before landing your ass in private business." Meagan took down her hood, glasses, and scarf to reveal her face to the approaching assassin, hoping the woman would recognize her and pause her assault. Sonja barely even blinked. Megan panicked, "Uhhhhh, help! Hank! Help!" Meagan created psionic duplicates of herself, hoping to buy some time for Hank to do SOMETHING to get them out of this. It worked. Sonja replaced her blades, but then withdrew a GRENADE of some sort from her belt. S*** this woman was about to take them ALL out! Just HOW crazy WAS she!??!?! But, before Sonja had the chance to detonate whatever it was, Hank's essence coalesced into the BRIEF human form of the man Sonja knew as her father - with some extra shadows and translucence. Not even Sonja's f***** mind could miss the recognition of her father. What the F*** -was- he though? Sonja vaguely remembered something about dying and living many lives, the the life of this chick was f***** up even for her imagination. The shadowy essence disappeared as fast as it emerged, coalescing back into the mind of the woman standing in front of Sonja, as the woman called back her copies, and kept outstretched hands in front of her, "Listen, Blade Rayne, your father and I both owe you a debt. I - we- know they did something to your mind. And you're probably chipped like a rogue cat, so we don't have much time. And while I can't fix *everything* - I *can* give you this ..." Before Sonja could react, Meagan froze her body through the pathways of her mind. She knew she had to act fast - not just to undo what she could before the cavalry could swarm in, but to also get lost before Blade Rayne could take her out properly this time; the second she regained agency over her body.... It was surprisingly easy to access the protocols used to subjugate Sonja's mind. They did this old school. There were no runes. No wards. No nanites even! Did Hank *know* that this would be the case? He had to have. Meagan put a quick thumbtack into that thought to revisit with Henk later. While the protocols were easy to access, they were less easy to destroy. Especially as it looked like they had been reinforced over *years* of work, and Meagan was on borrowed time. So Meagan did what she could and unraveled the most pressing ones - the protocols that blocked offensive action against the psychological images of certain really s****y high level hitters in the city. Meagan only had time enough to unravel the protocol - not obliterate it entirely. Blade Rayne would have to do the rest. The protocols subjugating her mind to the obedience of orders, however, were nigh untouchable. This was because they fell in alignment with Blade Rayne's own personality and personal behaviors. These guys were smart, because the best types of protocols were ones reinforced by a person's own behaviors. Before Meagan disengaged from Sonja's mind, Hank whispered to his daughter, "This is the best we can do. The best *I* can do, until I've found a way to acquire a body. The rest is up to you...." Meagan disengaged from Sonja's mind, and created a psionic cloak around herself - preventing Sonja from seeing her physically with her eyes. Technology however .............."Consider our debt repaid, Blade Rayne .... thank you for saving my life." Meagan used Street Shadows teleportation ability to get the f*** out of dodge before Blade Rayne - or her contingents, wherever they were - had the chance to kill her. And it was just in time, too. On the rooftop, Sonja blinked, taking a mental check of her faculties and trying to figure out what the f*** just happened. But, for some reason, she felt oddly freer. But just how free? With no time to assess the answer to that questions, Sonja was suddenly surrounded by Skyraider and Malta agents. "What the f*** happened up here operative," came a Captain's barked question. Sonja felt poised and ready to slit his throat, and the throats of every other trained gun with red sights on her from head to toe. Instead, she just tilted her head in answer. "You comm was off. You mark went IN the building! You MISSED your window!" Blade Rayne smirked, "I never miss a window....But understand one thing ... If I didn't make the hit, it's because circumstances changed..." her slow smile was filled with mirth, "If you could do any better, you wouldn't *need* me. But, please, by all means" she slowly raised her hands horizontally - stretching them wide, "feel free to put a bullet in me if you disagree...." The captain had heard of that look in Blade Rayne's eyes. It was the s*** of legends. He knew something was off. Something was wrong. And unless he wanted to be responsible for a LOT of deaths today, the smartest thing to do would be to pull the laser sights OFF of Blade Rayne, let her finish the mission, and get her back to the Raider's compound as quickly as humanly possible. he prayed this crazy b**** couldn't kill them all before they returned safely to base. Once back on base, the bosses and the doctor can take her crazy ass from there. The captain ordered the guns to stand down and retreat to lookout. He then nodded to Blade Rayne, "Just finish the job. We'll be waiting back at rendezvous." Still cloaked, Sonja waited for the cavalry to retreat before grabbing her dagger, then reaching for a laser device in her belt that was about the size of your pinkie finger. She deftly inscribed the Latin, "Si vis pacem, para bellum" on the dagger and assessed openings for opportunity. The opportunity came when none other than the judge himself approached a window in the meeting room and opened it. The brightness of the day must have combined with the high thermostat temperature set for winter in the old building, making it uncomfortable inside. it could also be the judge sweating, figuring there was a target on his head. Or both. None of the "why" mattered right now. All that mattered was the mark. Sonja carefully applied a poison to the tip of the dagger, and the grooved indentations made by the laser inscription. Finding her moment of delivery, Sonja vaulted off of the roof, just in time to land on a bus that had just stopped a few feet away to pick up passengers. The next vault brought her within range to land the kill throw, and land it she did - right in his left ventricle. Immediately after landing the shot, Sonja twisted in midair, like a figure skater pulling a triple axel - redirecting where her momentum would carry her using just her core. Having gauged the distance right, Sonja landed atop the roof of an oncoming vehicle - a lumber truck - and immediately sprang off of the truck onto the nearest roof - leaving the chaos of the City Council building for the rendezvous coordinates.

*February 14, 2022* *Brickstown - Paragon City* It was a bright, cold, brisk day in the city which allowed the young woman standing across from the City Council's office to get away with being bundled up from head to toe, AND wearing shades. As much as Meagan Rappaport *knew* what she was doing here, she *really* didn't know WHAT she was doing here and continued questioning her decision to actually be here. Suddenly, a voice in her mind; soothing, comforting, while still also creeping her out just from the simple fact of it being there spoke up, "Just breathe, ok" came the male voice whispering inside her head. Meagan - at first - was going to verbally whisper back. But realizing that she a) would look like a nut and draw attention to herself and b) actually had the full ability to reply in her mind; Meagan switched to her mental voice, "That's super easy for *you* to say. *You* don't have a body. And if *I* die, you'll just move on to someone else who can hear you!" "Meagan," the distinctly paternal like voice was calm and soothing, "you not only have my voice in your mind, but you also have full use of my gifts and I've shown you how to use them should there be a worst case scenario for *us* to be concerned about. I won't let anything happen to you. Nor will I let anyone hurt you. You're incredibly brave to agree to this, and, again, I cannot thank you enough." Meagan sighed, "Nah, no thanks needed old man" she chuckled, visibly at first before catching herself and switching back to her mental voice, this time, adding a more somber note, "besides, we both have a debt to pay - you and I, huh?" The voice of Henry (Hank) - Street Shadow - Raybourne was silent. Hank never forgave himself for not being able to rip Sonja away from her mother when she was young. Each time he'd tried, the twisted b**** threatened ................ she held *no* life dear.... And it wouldn't be until Sonja had long been on the run that she had tracked him down and they came to some semblance of a dynamic between the two of them. It was a fragile relationship for sure, but, from the moment Sonja dropped into his life Hank swore on every ounce of the essence of his soul that he would end his life to protect hers. That's exactly what happened when Veronica and her cohort came for him. She knew that Hank had ways of tracking that even she lacked. Especially when the one being tracked was their daughter - who was able to outmaneuver her at every turn; the student surpassed the teacher. So she gave Hank "one last chance" to "do this the easy way" and track down "*their*" daughter. Never had that woman ever used the pronoun of joint parentage. He refused. Of course. And fought like hell. But, ultimately, he was done in. It took a massive effort. And maybe he should've tried harder to vanish instead of stand his ground. But he didn't think she'd be able to do anything about tracking Sonja with his dead body .... he was wrong. Hank's essence finally, eventually, rematerialized in Shadow Astoria - in a location specifically at the nexus of many spiritual worlds. Realms of shadow. Plutonian. Each time he returned there, it would be another ordeal to get back into the incarnate world. Before Sonja, he'd never been in any particular hurry. He knew returning - at some point - was part of his contractual agreement. But he never rushed it. After Sonja, however, he came back as soon and as fast as possible; just to make sure she stayed safe, alive. He could do nothing about it while she was with her mother, and as an adult on the run he lost track of her. But he knew one day she'd find him. Since then he did his damndest to watch out for her from afar. He felt like a failure now. Wherever they'd kept Sonja hidden since 2012, he couldn't find it. It was out of his range for his essence to travel without a body, and she'd disappeared too quickly following her various assignments for him to keep a lock on her. He'd tried tracking Veronica, but her cohort had ways of preventing his essence from tailing them. So, he had to wait. Years. Agonizingly long, painful years, until he caught the signature of Sonja's energy arriving in Paragon. And there it stayed. Only now could he put some sort of a plan in place. It was a weak one for sure. But it was the only one he had. Meagan had gone silent, too. Her mind drifting back to the debt owed to Blade Rayne that she had to pay. A debt that dates back nearly twenty years. You see Meagan was the mark. The mark that Blade Rayne refused to eliminate. The mark that ended her life with the Knives. The mark that sent Blade Rayne's life into turmoil, on the run, when she - instead - killed the squadron that was with her and took Meagan to safety; dropping her off at the front steps to a police station - at great risk to herself - before managing to get away without any officers seeing her. Meagan's adoptive parents filled her in on everything about her life when she was old enough to understand. And, in her adult life, she had hoped to one day thank the woman who spared her life. But, knowing what she knew of Blade Rayne, she was under no rose colored misconceptions that this woman was anything more than a crook and criminal - even if one with a semblance of a code. She never thought she'd get the opportunity to say her peace of thank you and walk away, let alone repay that debt, until one day this voice made itself known as a shadow in her apartment and soon in her head. Hank had kept tabs on Meagan since Sonja saved her life. not as often as he'd kept tabs on Sonja herself. It'd only be once every few years. Gods forbid that the life she risked her own for would get lost some other way. Hank knew that'd drive his daughter back to the life she'd feel she should have never left - if that were to happen. So it didn't take long to track Meagan down. It did, however, take some serious conversations and negotiations, to keep the young woman from constantly freaking out long enough to listen to him. He was short on time, lacking a body, and used that to his advantage - but carefully - in order to get Meagan to trust him sooner rather than later. Electronics, reflections, and - when he had enough entropic energy - forming his essence into human form. Henry cursed. He needed a body, fast. First thing on the list after helping out his daughter. Henry's curse was audible in Meagan's mind, snapping them both back into attention. And just in time. Hank sensed movement on a nearby rooftop. Sonja...

*February 2nd, 2022* *A different conference room - same high rise - Founder's Falls, Paragon City* Since 2016, Victor had hoped to never activate this room again - The War Room. There were no windows here, only banks of monitors for covert observations. While the monitors were blank now, they could - with little effort - be used to hack into various surveillance feeds. Even street camera. Piggy backing onto the signal of other feeds around the city was dangerous - especially now that capes and cops were back in force and numbers the likes of which The Collaborative hadn't seen in nearly a decade. This meant that for every hack one of their geniuses could pull off, some technological do gooder with some advanced robotic something or another could potentially nano back hack and all hell would break loose. So, now, most camera feeds these monitors tapped in to were units belonging to members of The Collaborative. Any others were 'proceed with caution', tightly monitored, and used for short specific time frames only. Victor pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He'd wished like hell that this day wouldn't come. Three years ago Aeon took advantage of both Victor's fears of the horizon of heroes pouring into cities across the country and the more or less cooperative nature of their tenuous dynamic, to slip some neuro toxin into his water at a meeting Victor should never have attended without V. After Aeon took off with the bio-weapon, Veronica Kincaid did what she does best and took Victor down with two swift kicks to the head. The height alone it takes to accomplish that would be no small feet for a MAN, let alone most women. But then Commander Veronica Kincaid was no ordinary woman. Victor woke up strapped to one of Faustian's gurneys in the compound on Ikeq Island. Since the last several years had been spent perfecting the restraint of Blade Rayne, keeping Victor tied down was of no real consequence. It only lasted a few seconds anyway, as the initial shock wore off - allowing Victor to get his bearings. "We're analyzing you, to see what the f*** Aeon did," Clint Brook walked up. Every muscle in Victor's face tensed with macho anger, and a raw primal jealousy at the suddenly conjured images his mind was cooking up of Brook and Veronica in bed together. He had to be crazy, but something just didn't sit right with him..... Pushing those thoughts to the side, Victor nodded curtly in response to Brook and let Faustian do his work. And that's how the neuro toxin was discovered. Not even Victor was that sick and twisted as to release an unpredictable biological weapon out onto the world. But 'trust' such as it was had been lost that day. And the main problem still hadn't been dealth with. The capes and the cops were back. All hell had broken loose over the years that followed. Something told Victor Aeon might have made good on the threat he made before vanishing from Victor's office. The chaos. The carnage. The horror. But it had the opposite impact on the world, the country, and Paragon City. It called the blue bloods back in hordes. Businesses everywhere were in greater danger than before. Victor knew The Collaborative was growing restless and impatient. If only he had had the presence of mind in 2019 to solve this s*** his own way. Maybe .... just maybe, this all could have been avoided. But who knows, this day might have come either way. But now was the time to act. Victor sighed, looking weary as he readied himself for a gathering of The Collaborative. Suddenly, as if on cue again, the door swung open as Victor approached the conference table. All representatives from the various factions filed in; Stein, Brook, Carter, and Kincaid. Everyone took a seat, silent and wary. Victor remained standing to deliver the point of this meeting. "The room is soundproofed, so we can get down to business," Victor began, "We need to move the asset close to home. Now. These last three years have royally f***** us, and don't even get started on the Aeon s***. We're past that. If it wasn't me, it was going to be someone else. Lesson m****rf*****g learned." Stein spoke up, avoiding the subject of 2019 entirely, and focusing on the core point of what he just heard, "Move the asset? As in, bring her here......?" Victor nodded. Archon Carter spoke next, "Do you think that wise? We all know Blade Rayne has history on these streets. So far we've kept her out of trigger zones by sending her to cities across the country, and not just here in Paragon." "It's been eight years with no incident. And with the way we're bleeding money, none of us - individually or collectively can afford the expense in travel ALONE to bring her from Ikeq Island to wherever her newest target is and back. That's just plain fact. What's more, she's needed here - where our home base of operations are. The flood of capes and cops is much more than we can expect her to manage across domestic state lines. Just another fact. We need to keep her focused to here, where OUR core operations are. We're no longer expanding. That's another fact. So any SHOT we have at maintaining profits on a local level will HAVE to come at the requirement of Blade Rayne being brought back to Paragon for on demand local enforcement and reinforcements." "How the hell are we going to store her, Vic?" Brook commented, "We'd have to build or take over a facility the likes of which none of our operations currently participate in." Stein added, "The sudden and persistent energy input and output would be off the charts, and raise every flag in the city. We'd be dealing in juice the likes of which you only see in Portal Corps." "That's the other thing," Victor stood and walked towards a bank of monitors, "We'll have to ditch the cryo unit, which means taking her off of twenty four seven protocol." Veronica cursed, "Are you s*****g me? Bring her back here. Full time! With memories, triggers, and allies, AND take that b**** off of protocol?!?! You're OUT of your mind again aren't you?!" Anger boiled Victor's blood at the jab, and he turned with a boom in his voice that left NO misunderstandings of who was in control of his body or mind, "WE DON'T HAVE ANOTHER CHOICE!" the room shook. All fell silent, especially Veronica, who slid back into her chair after having initially halfway stood - her hands played on the table. Veronica knew she could take Victor on, most days. But their dynamic had grown more terse, and sometimes adversarial in the months leading up to 2019 and in the years since. This was still a mutually beneficial arrangement so far, and she had to play this chess match cool in order to remain a step ahead. "We need a warehouse we can outfit as containment. Preferably more than one. We keep her hidden. We keep her contained. We keep her working. We keep eyes on her at ALL times, even on assignment - but be CERTAIN to be far enough away that it's not distracting or detrimental to her mission. We should also reconsider the initial veto of a homing beacon. It was less than necessary before, because we had much more control. Now - all that's about to change." Victor turned and leveled a gaze to each member of The Collaborative that communicated the seriousness of the situation. With a heavy sigh, each member nodded once - in succession. Stein, Carter, and Brook offered two facilities each that would become part of the containment rotation for Blade Rayne. But everyone knew the one thing left unsaid. This was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. They would all, soon, lose control of their asset - and every last one of them in that room knew it.

*December 14th, 2019* *The top floor of an expensive high rise building in Founders Falls - Paragon City* To say that 2016 was a success would have been an understatement. Blade Rayne outperformed any, and all expectations. Back at the Ikeq Island compound, Dr. Faustian was proud, and relieved to have been able to see another day. Let alone another three years. In Paragon City Victor was proud, confident, sure of himself. And Veronica equally had that air of being untouchable. Blade Rayne unleashed a wave of political espionage and terror that sent shocks throughout Rhode Island and beyond. There were assassinations. There were kidnappings. And, any extortive activity had her as the muscle behind it. Blade Rayne's reputation alone was more than enough to stoke fear into the hearts of otherwise unwilling civil servants and law makers. Sonja also made quick work of planting evidence, setting target politicos up to take some serious falls. The reward was years of chaos, that sabotaged every effort put forth by government or law enforcement to try and set things back under control. All it took was three days worth of effort to yield three years of bountiful corruption, and beautiful degradation. The lawlessness was delicious. All factions profited. Victor and Veronica ESPECIALLY profited. But, just like every good party, someone eventually comes along and tried to ruin it. And that's what was happening now. It has not gone unnoticed by the ruling factions of Paragon City that the relatively carefree ease of the past few years was beginning to dry up. For the past few months, there appeared to be a severe uptick in the amount of capes, masks, tights, and otherwise blue bloods swinging, jumping, running, and flying about the city. If they were increasing in numbers here, then they were increasing in numbers everywhere. State, local, and federal governments must have sent out a distress call, and heroes - new and old - just HAD to be all too quick to answer. If something wasn't done to stem the flow of do gooders into this city, things were going to start getting very ugly. And that's something Victor just could *not* let happen. So, he had an idea. It was a risk. One that could easily backfire - but desperate times called for desperate measures and he needed the factions on board for this one. So he called an emergency meeting at one of his commercial properties, in one of the large conference rooms on the top floor. Victor stood at the bank of windows overlooking capes, tights, sparklers, fliers, and even additional uniformed and plain clothes patrols move back and forth across his vantage. He loathed every last single one. And he was banking on similar feelings coming from the faction leaders suddenly finding their operations under new dangers they'd have thought were a thing of the past.... The door to the lush conference space swung open and, as if on cue, the various faction leaders filed in through the door. Captain Stein of the Skyraiders. Archon Carter of the 5th Column. Agent Brook of the Malta group. Veronica Kincaid, representing significantly more Knives territory than she ever had before. No others were invited, as no others provided ongoing financial stewardship to the successful operation and upkeep of Blade Rayne's programming beyond the initial seize and subdue mission in Vermont. Crey and Warriors lost every man and woman they sent - and were still salty about it, which pissed Victor off because they scarcely sent crew enough to give Blade Rayne a bloody nose let alone subdue her. Crey and Warriors could die mad for all Victor cared. And no other factions were allowed to clamor and join ex post facto - when word got out about the rise of "The Cooperative." With his mind half in the present and half in the past, Victor began welcoming his guest as each took a seat at the oval glass table. Within moments, Victor's mind returned to the present - and the idea he *knew* would snap through the atmosphere of the room like whiplash. "I'd like to thank everyone for coming," Victor began as he took a seat at one of the ends of the oval. Veronica was - of course - seated at the other end. But Victor didn't meet her eyes, and it was not Veronica's turn to be concerned with whatever idea Victor had cooked up. "As we are all aware, the fruits of our labors over the last three years are now beginning to see unprecedented challenges..." "Cut to the chase, Victor," Captain Stein interjected, "We all know our businesses have been going to s*** lately. And we know why. That's why the f*** we're here. YOU called this meeting, specifically to 'address our mutual problems.' So cut the s*** and get straight to it." Victor huffed an amused sound, "Fine ...." Victor stood and walked over to a fingerprint pad next to a nondescript section of wall. After affixing his thumbprint to the pad, a four by six section of the wall receded to reveal a small case inside. Victor carefully removed that case and brought it back to the table. With a slight hesitations, Victor opened the case to reveal a clearly marked biological weapon. Everyone in the room stood up - except for Veronica, whose only indication of wariness was in here eyes and slight shift in posture. Suddenly there were guns drawn and pointed at Victor's head, "You're bats*** crazy and I'll drop you where you stand before you make another move for that case. THIS is your solution?!?! KILL US ALL!?" Victor slowly backed away from the case a step, and slowly lifted his hands so as to appear as unimposing as he could. His gaze met the eyes of Agent Clint Brook - the man whose tirade just punctuated the air, leaving the space after it both void and tense with the pressured promise of violence, "Clint .... everyone. Let's all just calm down- - - " "CALM DOWN!?!?!?" Captain Stein screeched. "Guys! I'm NOT about to open the vial. So just SHUT IT!" Victor's command took full advantage of his powerfully booming voice, bereft of patience and it shook the walls of the conference room, causing the wielder of every gun trained on him to remember exactly whom they were dealing with. The arms eased, if only slightly. "I have a proposal. An idea really. And it belongs more to Aeon than it does to me..." At the mention of Dr. Aeon's name, Veronica then slide up from her chair - a scorpion ready to sting, "You did *not* enlist the aide, assistance, or advice of that abomination, tell me you didn't....." "Let me be clear her, " Victor began, his textbook confidence waning - but only slightly, "the population of cops and capes has sky rocketed over the last six months. Our businesses have taken several beatings, and can neither afford or hope to withstand much more. If we're to make a dent in this, here *and* beyond, then all manner of drastic measures need to be on the table," Victor's voice became more firm towards the end of his statement, "the population of capes and cops need to be dropped to manageable levels as fast as possible." Archon Carter huffed, "And exactly which one of our units do you propose sacrificing on this suicide mission?" "None. And it won't be a suicide mission. As it stands, we have an operative skilled in espionage and infiltration -" Victor's sentence was cut off by Veronica "You son of a b****!" Veronica rounded the table, ready to take Victor down with her bare hands. Clint Brook moved in to stop her, but knowing he couldn't go toe to toe with her - and especially not five feet away from a biological weapon - he outstretched both his arms in an effort to halt the wild woman's advances, "Commander. Commander. Commander! One thing we can't afford right now is a brawl. Not with a bio weapon sitting in a fragile vile, in a case that can AND WILL go flying the seconds you land a hit. Let's just ....take a minute." Only then did Veronica stop, but her eyes levels the death of all glares at Victor, "There is no way in *hell* you're doing this. You understand me? You sick, twisted, piece of s*** son of a - - -" Archon Carter interrupted, "What Commander Kincaid is trying to say is . . . . Aeon's a sick f*** on a good day. And you're out of your g**damned mind to entertain him. And you're even crazier if you think *any* of us are going to sign off on this. Ever.... Now send that thing back to where it came from. And pray it gets destroyed. As much as you may not care who lives or dies, there's certain s*** *WE* just won't do." Victor sighed, "Fine. Just understand and be prepared that pricing for Blade Rayne's services will increase exponentially to meet the demand that's coming, since you all lack the spine to do what needs to be done. "Aeon's f***** with your mind, Vic," Brook calmly pointed out, "And as soon as you come down off of whatever the f*** he fed you - which has GOT to be the ONLY explanation for this s*** - you'll see just how unreasonably psychotic and dangerous this idea was. You're better than this, man." "Ahhh, so right you are, Agent. So right you ALL are," the sneering Aeon appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Considering that he knew the contents of this conversation, the faction leaders surmised he either had a bug in the room, was somewhere nearby with short range teleport, or a combination of both, "Your Victor will return to his senses soon enough, seeing as how he is now useless to me and I have no interest in killing him. However, I will be removing my little pet project from your possessions. If YOU are unwilling to use her, then I am certain I can sell it to some individual or government who IS willing...." And before anyone could stop him, Aeon snatched the bio weapon and teleported out of the conference room.

*October 30th, 2016* *Ikeq Island* The entourage arrived every bit as intimidating as you'd expect Knives, Family, SkyRaiders, Malta, and Council to be. But, this time, the good doctor was ready. With solid years of subliminal messaging and cranial hemispheric reprogramming, Dr. Faustian was ninety percent confident that Blade Rayne would obey ALMOST any command. Again, her deep rooted personal ethics were the one exception to his work. There was nothing he could do, within the confines of Commander Kincaid's requirements, that would override that. "Wake her," Victor ordered. Dr. Faustian nodded, zealously looking forward to this moment, which was a far cry from her nerve racked response 2 years ago. Knobs were turned, switches were flipped, synaptic stimuli was sent into the chamber while the temperature in the unit slowly began to rise. Within moments, Blade Rayne's eyes opened. There was still a storm in them, but there was no primal scream. There was no uncontrollable beast. There was just a soldier, with hatred in her eyes for everyone in the world - and especially everyone in this room. Operatives from all factions surrounded the chamber as the restraints holding Sonja inside were snapped free and retracted - the chamber door opening all the way. "You won't need those weapons, folks," Dr. Faustian's confident words slid from his lips like warm honey. He was so proud of his work that he truly staked the safety of this reveal on it not failing. Victor hmphed. Now who was the arrogant one..."Safety first, nonetheless, doctor." Sonja hopped out of the cryo unit. Weapons cocked all around her. She sized everyone up in an instant but she did not attack. Could she have? Logically, sure. Psychologically .... well, that was now another matter entirely. Dr. Faustian smirked with pride. Commander Kincaid sneered in triumph as she strode confidentially towards her daughter, "Sonja ...? Do you know who I am?" Every ounce of rage and despise that Sonja felt for her mother could be seen in the near black hue of her eyes. Sonja's face was so cold, it could almost be HOT ice, "Don't think that my memories have been replaced... But I am at your command..." Commander Kincaid chuckled, "Over the past four years, did you ever think to wonder just *how* we found you...?" "V..." Victor's single letter call to Veronica Kincaid was a warning. There was too much to do, too much at stake, TOO MUCH TO ACCOMPLISH for Veronica to be testing her daughter's emotions NOW of ALL times! Sonja knew exactly where her mother was going with this. She was about to test a trigger. And, yes, Sonja had plenty of time over the years to wonder WHO might have used their knowledge of her, and their skills at tracking, to betray her. There were scant few who knew her that well ... "Asher...?" Veronica seemingly read Sonja's mind, "No. Well, not that we could find him. I suspect he's long dead by now." Sonja wanted to slit her mother's throat right there on the spot for that snide remark about Asher's terminal condition. A 'parting gift' from his time as a Malta Operative and likely the reason he abandoned her rather than allow the two of them to face it together - a promise he had made to her in more than one way. But the thought of ripping her mother's throat out short circuited something in Sonja's brain that she couldn't quite trace, and she grunted in discomfort. "G**damnit, V..." Victor whispered. Dr. Faustian, too, seemed to be getting a bit more nervous. But, this WAS the day that was agreed to. And Faustian knew that there was NO way HE had the testicles to stop Commander Kincaid ... AT ALL! So he stood. Waited. Watched. Praying all hell didn't break loose because of Commander Kincaid's power tripping recklessness. Instead of focusing on the pain, Sonja's mind went through the remaining list. There was Mike. But she and Mike were little more than professional acquaintances. There was Dorian. And while the two of them rarely saw anything eye to eye, Sonja was never on Dorian's radar like that. As long as SHE didn't make problems for HIM, he left her alone. Besides, IF she'd managed to piss off Dorian, he'd come for her himself. Moving through the list ...then there was Alex. Of few things in life - especially now - Sonja was certain. One of those things was that Alex would die sooner than track her for ANYONE, or give her up. Even though she left him before things got too complicated. Even though she left him before she risked another Asher situation, Sonja knew that - at worst - Alex would track her down for himself. And he'd sooner die than ever betray her. Even after what pain her leaving might have caused him. So who the he--- "Your father sends his regards by the way ....." Commander Kincaid slowly smiled. Sonja's blood ran ice cold, then ice HOT! Did he - - - "He didn't betray you," Veronica answered the question in Sonja's mind. NOW Victor started cursing, but Commander Kincaid ignored him. "I sent his blue blood ass straight to hell!" Sonja's mind short circuited at the thought of splitting her mother's head in two. "&$*#(^$*#(*#&()# ENOUGH V!" Victor's booming voice hollered. "NO!" Veronica snapped back, "It's not NEAR enough yet! Not until I am CONFIDENT that THIS ASSET is under our COMPLETE CONTROL!" Sonja dropped briefly to one knee before swiftly regrouping, her subliminal protocols fiercely kicking into place. She eyed her mother with cold hatred, "I *will* break this, b****....... You -know- I will," Sonja's voice was whisper soft like that of a snake - dripping with the venom of one, too. Commander Kincaid laughed, a wicked sound, truly belaying the evil that exists within her, "If you could have, you would have. But, don't worry too much about your father, sperm donor. You should know that the man is incapable of actually dying. You had to have figured that out by now." For the first time in this conversation, Sonja's expression was one of unknowing. Not to the point of shock, mind you. But this was new information. "Street Shadow's lived many lives. and he'll live more . . . eventually. But since he wouldn't willingly give up the blood link we needed for Aeon to track you, we had to take it by force. But don't expect him to come and rescue you. There's no telling *when* his essence will take on a body." "You finished....?" Sonja's question was devoid of emotion. "Yes," Commander Kincaid smirked, "And I'm satisfied. In oh so many ways ..." another smirk, "hm. Thank you for asking." Veronica turned heel and returned to a sweating Victor Marcon who was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. The doctor, too, exhaled a relieved breathe he hadn't realized he had been holding until now. Veronica placed a hand on Victor's chest, "I'm pleased. Let's send her out. Track her. And bring her back here immediately. This asset is ready." ((OOC Notes: Without going into politics, I've set Sonja's first mission up here to be one of political espionage. Assassinations, mild hacking, kidnapping, as the first Tuesday of November is election day in all states nationwide. So we're talking ALL manner of elections. Feel free to use this as fodder or hooks in any personal stories you wish (or not....) Just NOTE that no one would KNOW it was SONJA behind ANY of that. HOWEVER, upon RP, these things are certainly likely to come out. Sonja is a markswoman, assassin, and infiltration specialist. She won't get caught. She won't get seen. But, similar to a Winter Soldier vibe, there will be rumors. There will be whispers. PERHAPS there might be a sighting [feel free to PM me if you wanna talk about it]. And, for sure, once Sonja's mind ends up however it ends up.... [the story is kind of writing itself here] she will remember ALL of it!)) [OOC COMMENTS WELCOME! - OR you can PM me if you want to keep the story flow an IC page turner roflol]

*October 30th 2016* *Ikeq Island* It had been a hard fought 4 years since Blade Rayne was taken to the compound. Dr. Faustian wore every bit of those 4 years on his face. His eyes had circles that encircled his circles. His visage looked both worn and wary. This type of psychological manipulation and reprogramming was especially difficult for one reason, and one reason only. The Knives of Artemis, and Commander Kincaid's contingent *specifically*, were purists. This meant no spells. This meats ABSOLUTELY no psionics. And this meant very limited use of technological augmentation. Commander Kincaid wanted a reprogrammed Blade Rayne in the most difficult way possible. So he had to get creative. Dr. Faustian researched as if his life depended on it. Because it did. While the other faction leaders were less concerned with the how - again - Faustian knew that any one of the leaders could kill him outright if he made a single misstep. Commander Kincaid was a terror on a GOOD day. Violate her protocols and, well .... she'd make Victor Marcon look like a cake walk. So Faustian's only choice was to take this old school. Subliminal messaging. Activate a part of the brain that usually lies dormant, yet susceptible to suggestions. Faustian had already been exploring Sonja's subconscious, awakening more of the right hemisphere of her brain in order to increase the sensitivity of her already nigh incomparable reflexes to near precognitive levels. Over the past 4 years, he became *very* familiar with the landscape of Sonja's unconscious, and conscious mind. He even secretly planted a few fail safes in there for himself - in the event any, or all, of these factions decided one day that he was one witness too many. Now, with the first 2 years of trial and error under his belt Faustian honed his craft in the 2 additional years that followed. The method of subliminal programming he was forced to use was notoriously outdated and certainly susceptible to breaking if the subject was strong enough to fight it, or escaped long enough so as to avoid consistent subliminal reinforcement, or if the subject found a specialist to break the program outright. For these reasons, it was imperative that Blade Rayne be released ONLY for limited missions in the field. Long term covert ops were a non-starter. Since deep cover wasn't one of Blade Rayne's desired traits, the factions seemed OK allowing for this limitation. It also didn't hurt that these requirements meant enforcing the most stringent of controls over Blade Rayne's whereabout and activities. The tighter the hold, the less likely Sonja would go off the rails and rebel like she did the first time. The first time .... Faustian cringed. Through whispers, 3rd hand knowledge, and exploration of Blade Rayne's own subconscious, Faustian was able to piece together what caused the break - the betrayal - that drove Sonja from the Knives of Artemis and into a life on the run. He couldn't blame Blade Rayne for having the ethical code that she did. It certainly wasn't her mother's strong suit - which led Faustian to believe that strand had to have come genetically from whomever Blade Rayne's father was. Considering the tenuous nature of Blade Rayne's reprogramming, and its relatively easy susceptibility to intrusion, degradation, and outright shattering breakage, Faustian hoped to whatever or whomever would hear his prayers that Sonja's mother thought better of trying to force Blade Rayne into that same mission again. A boundary is a boundary. A limitation is a limitation. One cannot turn a straw into a noodle. By the gods and garters let Blade Rayne's mother be smarter than she is self aggrandizing and arrogant. *A compound off the mainland of Striga Island* Veronica Kincaid slid out of the bed she shared with Victor Marcon, taking the bed sheet with her, wrapping it around her perfectly structured frame. The chill snapped Victor awake, and he reached for the blanket while roaming his gaze over his woman of mutual convenience. Neither of them would go so far as to call this 'love'. It was attraction. Power. Convenience. A certain ....understanding. Hidden deep inside himself, he knew it could be more. However, he knew better than to fall into the trap that too many men before him fell prey to. Make no mistake, Veronica Kincaid would just as soon betray him, poison him, or slit his throat as she would climb into bed on top or beneath him. All the stories of this woman were truth - to the last, worst, and most gruesome details. Even now, standing at the dresser of their bedroom, he knew her mind was at work on some chess move or another. Best to work it out of her now, before her surprise - whatever it was she had in mind - dealt a blow he'd have to deal with.... "Mmmm, you know, if you'd wanted to see me naked through the mirror, you could have just asked. There was no need to steal the sheet, V." "Hmph....." came Veronica's only reply. S*** now Victor *knew* whatever was going on in her mind was every measure of trouble, and his calculating mind was already weighing and measuring out trouble's many ways. "I want her to do it, Victor. She needs to pass the test she failed. I want it. The final control. The final power. The final irrevocable hold over Sonja that *proves* to me that there is none other to command her *but* me." G**damnit! Victor leaped out of bed before his body could even process that his mind had given the command. He threw on a robe and was standing behind Veronica, all 8 foot of brick and muscle - not that that intimidated this woman even a little bit. With a flick of his wrist, Victor grabbed Veronica's elbow and turned her around to face him. The storm in the woman's gaze was palpable. This wasn't the first time the two of them had danced this dance down this road. He'd thought he'd made it perfectly clear that this was a non-negotiable. There was TOO much at stake to risk Blade Rayne going off the rails ever again - not the LEAST of which were the various agreements between the factions that even MADE capturing Blade Rayne possible. "Let me be *very* clear here, V. It was NO then. It's NO now. And it WILL be NO in the future. I don't give a s*** about your wounded pride. I don't give a hot f*** about your visceral desire to be lord commander over your operative slash daughter. And as much as I know you can kill me where I stand, know this; every last faction we have agreements with will band together to *END*YOU* if you so much as try, and put the last several years into jeopardy all for the sake of an old score. We've kowtowed to your purist restrictions thus far. That comes with *risks* and *limitations*. THIS! Is one of them! F****** live with it." Veronica's storm turned from black to red hot rage. She really wanted to drop Victor where he stood. Mostly because he was right, and she always killed anyone who challenged her - whether they were right or wrong. But this ....understanding ... that the two of them had. This ....agreement, was far too valuable to lose for the sake of an old score left unsettled with her daughter. Veronica also didn't need the heat of various factions on her back either. So, she'd let this go. For now. It'd be unwise, and un-strategic not to. So she gave an upward and slight tilt to her head, with an arch in her eyebrow that signaled she'd relent - this time. Victor took whatever victory he could get with this ticking time bomb of a woman, and dragged her back to bed. They didn't have much time to enjoy this day - physically anyway. Today was *the* day they would be sending Blade Rayne on assignment - finally putting 4 years of round the clock work to the test.

*June 7, 2014 - Ikeq Island* Secluded, hidden, and under heavy guard the holding facility looked like a bunker outfitted to withstand heavy world war assault. One would think that with a facility so cold and imposing looking there had to be nukes or ICBMs stored inside. Not quite. The trio of helicopters landed in the snow and ice. This part of Greenland was ideal, as it provided almost year round cold temperatures, and otherwise unpleasant weather - especially in the upper elevations like the one housing the bunkered facility. Victor Marcone stepped down from the most expensive of the three helicopters looking thoroughly, expensively, out of place for the tone of the environment. But since when did an organized crime heavy hitter dress down for anything? The other two choppers were strictly tactical military units serving dual purposes. For one thing, they were armed guards for Victor. For another, each of the factions in the helicopter had vested interest in who was being held in the facility, as well as what was about to go down. Sky Raiders flanked the one side, Council flanked the other. The group approached the entrance to the bunker and were given immediate access by the Knives and Malta on guard. Inside the main entrance sat a single elevator, nothing more. The group entered the elevator and pressed the button leading to the bottom most floor of the compound, at least ten feet below ground level. The doors to the elevator swung open and Victor made short work of closing the distance between the elevator and the main room. His gait was purposeful if albeit increasingly arrogant. In the center of the main room sat all manner of hospital and laboratory equipment. There were heart monitors, pulse monitors, temperature monitors and brain activity monitors. All wires from the monitors lead up to giant cryo-chamber that was impeccably well cared for. As science and technology evolved in the world, so too did the science and technology in this room. "Wake her," came Victor's singular command. The doctor monitoring the monitors froze in place. His body began to visibly shake. He couldn't hide the fear that etched itself into his body at the bone deep knowledge of what that command meant, "W-w-w-wake her....y-y-you mean ... as in n-now?" As if the very question was an insult, Victor's confident façade twisted into a snarl as he began advancing on the doctor. Never mind that killing this man would throw the entire operation into jeopardy, but Victor *despised* being questioned. He'd dealt with it enough from his piece of s*** cousin, running the Family when Victor knows Emile's true place should be under Victor's boot. There was no way in hell some goggle faced lab rat was going to make the mistake of questioning his commands. In the two years of dealing with the various tempers of multiple faction leaders, Dr. Faustian learned to catch the warning signs of when his life was in danger from one of them. In this moment, Dr. Faustian knew that Victor Marcone was set to crush his skull like glass and have his brain come running out in glops like pudding. Faustian leapt off his chair and backed up, his hands stretched out front of him in a posture of surrender, "Wait, wait. No, I'm not questioning you, sir. My apologies. I'm just ........ Well, I know how many of your men," Faustian gestures to the Skyraiders, "and your men" he gestures to the Council, "and your men it took to bring Valia-" Faustian earned a scornful look from Victor at the almost use of Sonja's Paragon City moniker, "I'm sorry, Blade Rayne. How many men it took to bring Blade Rayne down. I just want to be sure .... we have not live tested the protocol. And the training........." Faustian's insides cringed as he thought back to the past 2 years of training, retraining, programming, and reprogramming of Sonja. After excessive ....'treatment'.... Blade Rayne had been in cryo now for about a year. Victor paused his advance on the doctor and stood to his full, imposing height. Victor's memory flashed back to 2012 and how - if not for calling in emergency aide from the Skyraiders - the mission to collect Sonja might have ended ...poorly. The mission was never to kill Blade Rayne. It was to collect her. Collect her, reprogram her, and use her across the factions to be who she is. A weapon. Even in stark fear for his life that night, a fear that he refused to show, Victor could not help but be impressed with Sonja. She was swift. Resilient. Deadly. The more she was knocked down, the more, and the harder she fought. This fight came from more than just being a former operative. Victor suspected this had a lot to do with Sonja's biological father. Not that Veronica would confirm or deny Victor's suspicions. But Victor wasn't dumb. The display he saw that night with his own two eyes was more than any one natural person should have been able to pull off. If it had not been for the Skyraiders, their air support specifically, and the extra men ..... And now the Raiders were in search of payment,. The type of payment that only Sonja would be able to satisfy. But was the doctor right? Would it be wise to wake Blake Rayne now? Or was it too soon? "Wake her, doctor," Victor's voice, thou firm, suddenly sounded a smidge unsure. The bosses for the Council and Skyraiders walked up beside Victor as if on cue. The doctor gulped over a lump of saliva stuck in his throat. He knew this day would come but he had hoped it would have been a least a year - every two - later than now. Still, this was part and parcel of what he was being paid for, and so he would give them what they want. Dr. Faustian began turning dials and knobs. He began flipping switches and fervently switching his gaze back and forth between the bank of monitors and the cryo chamber. He began increasing temperature. He began sending stimulating impulses into Sonja's nervous system. The seconds felt like an eternity.... Then. dark brown eyes filled with rage snapped open. The woman inside behaving close to a rabid animal. If not for the restraints inside the chamber, everyone in that room KNEW Sonja would have busted the chamber door by now. Mad, primal screams reverberated through the encasing and even penetrated out to the room in front of her cell. Dr. Faustian's eyes widened to near half dollars. He KNEW if Sonja wasn't let out, or put back down NOW, she'd bust her cryo unit wide open in a matter of seconds. It wasn't JUST that Sonja was strong, and angry enough to charge head first into Spain's running of the bulls. It was the fact that, shortly after Sonja was transported to Ikeq Island, a massive effort went under way to fortify Sonja's entire structural physique. Years were reversed from her mortal age as every thread of muscle, sinew, cartilage, and bone was enhanced using her own DNA - but 'upgrading' it in a fashion. These folks, especially the Knives, were very particular in what they did and did not allow to happen to Blade Rayne's body. They have certain ...biases, against various forms of ....augmentation. Dr. Faustian snapped himself out of his shock induced total recall to turn wide eyes to Victor, "Sir!" "What the f*** are you just standing there for! Shut her down!" Victor bellowed. Faustian gladly took the insult - as if this was somehow *his* fault - and quickly flipped switches, turned knobs, The subduction protocols tried their damnedest to bring Sonja down quickly, but "quick" just wasn't happening tonight and it actually took repeat protocols, stacking on top of each other, before Sonja was finally subdued. The Skyraiders were still, doubting their desire to activate Blade Rayne so soon. They had thought the tales being spun of Blade Rayne's protocol induced rage were just that - tales. Clearly the weapon was not yet ready to be deployed on assignment. Victor Marcone turned to the Skyraider's Chief, "As you can see, Blade Rayne's protocols are ... not ready yet for field work." Chief Roberts quickly gathered himself, shoving his reactions to what just happened, and approached Marcone, "You get her ready? You comprehend? Do not forget, my guys saved your ass; and YOU promised to deliver! An operative! Not a beast! Control her, or you'll have more problems on your hands than you can handle. And that's not a threat. It's a promise ..." The Skyraiders turned heel and walked off the main floor to the elevator, and soon out of the compound entirely. Victor turned to Faustian, "I want a program in place to gain control of her! Don't question me. Don't ask me how. That's what I PAY YOU for! MAKE! Her Program! WORK! Or you'll wish you were dead......." Faustian gulped as he watched Victor stride away, "And I'll send funds and resources to make sure there wasn't permanent damage caused by your mess..." Victor said on his way out. Faustian collapsed in a chair, "my mess....?" he whispered. Faustian looked up at the chamber and sighed, "We have a lot of work to do, my dear. A lot of work to do."

Sonja quickly changed into a black one-piece thin suit of armor - a(n) "in case s*** hits the fan purchase she'd hoped she'd never have to wear. Securing her katana's to their holding spot on her back, Sonja affixed the last of her gear; shurikens, caltrops, handguns, and a few grenades. With the flip of a switch, all lights went out and Sonja donned her shades. Immediately soft cursing was heard outside, "S*** we've been made, she knows we're here!" a young Blades Operative spoke before thinking better of it and keeping her trap shut. The kill was swift. The operative done in by someone on her own team. That's what happens when you think you're ready to join a fight that's way above your pay grade. Sonja smirked and keyed in a 7-digit code that timed certain security measures around her home. Then she slipped out the back window, waiting for the first of the fireworks to start. 3 - 2 - 1 A flashbang to the Southwest of the property revealed 3 Knives Operatives who were blinded by the light. Sonja leapt into action, taking each out with a dagger before they had time to regroup. Rushing footsteps from behind alerted Sonja to the presence of reinforcements headed her way, so she swung up into a tree several yards away. Four Family gunners converged on the site, cursing at the scene before taking a back to back formation. Sonja wondered who taught them that move. How long had this coalition been planning and training to come for her? No time for those thoughts now. Sonja could process all of this later, AFTER she got her ass out of here - and left no witnesses.... An explosion to the Southeast corner of the property took down several bodies - Malta, Council, and Family. The four gunners still on the Southwest immediately jumped, and Sonja used the cover noise of the chaos to take them out. Just as they were about to move across to the Southeast side of the property, Sonja jumped them. This time, with her dagger sheathed, it was a quick kill shot to the head for 2 of the men. She ducked the punch of a third, leapt back and finished the remaining 2 off. For a moment, Sonja regretted not having put on her silencer. But that would've made the handgun more bulky than this job required, and she needed the extra maneuverability. More footsteps racing to the sound of the bullets. With trained factions such as these, you don't have the luxury of your movements being completely covered by the chaotic concussions of explosions. Sonja sprinted for the back side of her home, already having a plan to lay out a vantage point from which to assess and eliminate the rest of the squad coming for her, when the familiar whistle of a blade slicing through the air kicked her reflexes into red alert. Sonja's body tucked and rolled before her conscious mind fully caught up to what was thrown at her head. Sonja hit a trigger on her forearm that activated her suit's stealth, something she realized she should have done to begin with, when an all too familiar rumbling laughter sent her senses into a shock of near paralytic proportions. "Oh I've missed those reflexes," Commander Kincaid demurred. Snapping back to her senses, and regaining control of her body and her rage, Sonja spun hard and launched a dagger at her mother. "COMMANDER! NO!" A lieutenant dove into the path of the dagger, taking it to the heart and falling to the ground. Commander Kincaid stepped over the lifeless body of her soldier as if she were nothing, "You see, daughter? This ..." she gestures behind her with a wave of her hand, without looking back, "is what true loyalty looks like." Commander Kincaid kept her gaze fixed to the last spot she'd seen Sonja before Sonja activated her suit's stealth. "Loyalty....?" Sonja questioned, then swiftly shifted positions before anyone could get a lock - or worse, actually hit her with something. "Daughter....?" Sonja questioned again, then shifted positions. "You *are* my daughter, Sonja. I conceived you. I gave birth to you. And your 'ethical code' means s*** to me. You're an Operative, Blade Rayne, and to have trashed your life over a mark, child or otherwise, was the dumbest thing you could have ever done." The silence of that old wound hung in the air. There it was. Even now, years after the event, it felt like yesterday. The test that Sonja failed. The mark that tested her own personal protocols. And the life on the run that followed. Sonja snapped her mind back into the present just in time to hear the trigger go off on another of her defense systems. This time is was the electrical fence along the Northeast and Northwest sections of the property. Malta, Council, Warriors, and Crey were all hit with enough voltage to fry them from the inside out. Sonja smirked. A voice crackled over a radio slung on Commander Kincaid's hip, "We're losing too many soldiers. We should pull back." "NO!" The booming voice came from a man Sonja knew all too well. Someone high up enough in the Family ranks that he needn't be here for this particular mission. Which begged the question ...why was he? Victor Marcon, Emile's cousin, stood every inch the kingpin he aspired to be. Dressed in a crisp white suit, he moved out from the shadows to stand next to Commander Kincaid. Slowly Victor's gaze turned to Sonja's mother, "The asset will be secured at all costs.... Deploy the rest. Now." "Wait," Commander Kincaid interjected, almost sounding as if she wanted to be the voice of reason here, "Let me try something, first." "You have two minutes, Veronica. Then we move in," Victor brushed Veronica's cheek with his thumb and forefinger and Sonja felt ready to retch the entire contents of her stomach. With Family and Knives literally in bed with each other, that's enough power to make almost any faction agree to coalesce from the sheer terror of repercussions imaginable if they didn't. Sonja was running out of options .... "Sonja .... listen to me. I'm going to give you one last chance to come out of this the easy way. A compromise. You'll get the marks that fall in line with your code. Within reason. That leaves plenty of contracts. Just return to the fold. Re-train. And let's end this ....." Sonja unsheathed her katanas, which was answer enough. But she punctuated with a verbal response, "go to hell..."

For those of us (me, I am those of us) who are coming back after the dark decade, how does one get to Echo Plaza again...? <.<