Rise of the Titans

Tymeless

We are still evolving!
Joined
Jul 15, 2005
Posts
6,480
*Closed PM for invite or visit the OOC thread for approval*

“What if I told you that the gods and hero’s of legend weren’t myth at all but were living amongst us? That they had left their posts as humanities guardians long ago, and had learned to live amongst us? That it’s possible that even you have the blood of an ancient god coursing through your veins? What if you were related to The mighty thunder god Thor of norse legend, or the great Amaterasu of Japan? You could be one of Zeus’s many children or you might know him by a different name after all he has had many over the years. You may be a great grandchild, a grandchild, or even a child of one of them, you might even be a reincarnation of one of the fallen.. Have you noticed anything unique inside you, something that told you that you are different from the rest. Have you ever been around someone and sense that there was something powerful inside them that there was something familiar about them. You may even think I’m full of shit right now, but I can tell you feel it. You can sense that I’m right with every fiber of your being, because I am one of them and it’s time you have awakened for we need you now. Everyone needs you now, because the titans have awoken, as we have feared they would since the beginning of the atomic age, and many of the god are weakened from inactivity and lack of worshippers. It’s the time age of the scions we are humanity's only hope, we can stand with the gods as we all reclaim our ancient powers.” Allison paused for a moment to let them digest it. I could tell there was still doubt in their eyes. “So will you join me?” I asked them with confidence because while they may not believe it to deny me would be to deny their entire being.
 
Hayden Condan

Hayden shifted and moved from the shadows that was concealing his bulk, for most it seemed like he had flowed out of the shadows, while the more astute had known about his presence. When he spoke his voice carried the same deep grumble of his father,

"Humanity has despised my father for milenia, there has never been a human that would truly worship my father."

Of course he had the size, the build, the only thing he truly lacked of his birthright was the wild unruly hair of his father. He looked at the people gathered in the room,

"I can not deny who and what I am, humans will shun me once they find out and I am very sure that many of you already have guessed my parentage. I am Hayden Condan, son of Orcus, god of the Underworld."

He paused for that to sink in,

"Even as I am likely to be just as much scorned as a child of Hades, Loki or Set, I will stand with you. If the Titans are awake another Age of Titans will arise and I for one will not want that to happen at all."
 
Maya listened as Allison spoke to the small group. Her words were stirring, they called those around her to action. But Maya was unsure if this was a fight she wanted to join.

A man stepped forward. He was the biggest man that Maya had ever seen in her life. Well over seven foot and broadly built, the mere sight of him was enough to strike terror into even the bravest of souls. His admission to being the offspring of Orcus caused a murmur to travel through the group.

Maya looked around her, watching to see who would be next to step forward. Her bow and quiver were hung across her back, and they seemed to vibrate in the still air, as if her mother's spirit was calling her to action. Though she was fearful, Maya took a hesitant step forward, knowing that this is what her mother would have wanted.

"I, the daughter of Artemis, will join you." She said, her voice quavering slightly. Determinedly, Maya squared her shoulders, telling herself that she was ready for whatever was to come.
 
Allison smiled as other's like her had begun to come forward. She would give each the moment to either speak up about their heritage or begin to soak it up and admit to themselves that there was indeed something special about them. If they hadn't awakened their powers yet there were was to forcefully awaken the powers but they had to accept their family ties and acknowledge who they are or the powers wouldn't awaken. "Think about it. You've had dreams all your life. That was your real mother or father speaking to you. You know who you are deep down just open up admit to it and you will feel free for the first time in your life. Release yourself from the humanly shackles and join us in the fight for humanity and our own existence to continue."
 
Lydia Pruitt

Lydia watched quietly from her seat as the two stepped forward. She hadn’t known what the invitation to this meeting had been about, but it was quickly apparent what it was becoming. She had a choice, she could feign ignorance and go back to her nice, boring life or she could stand up for what she was for once in her life.

She had tried to talk to her mother and father about what she was, but they brushed it off as a child’s fancy. Her dreams were nothing but make believe or worse, a sin. In her tightly religious household, there was little room for such a thing. She longed to talk about what she remembered before her days at the orphanage but no one believed her. They thought a child that young couldn’t remember those things, but she did. She remembered everything that had ever happened in her life, from the mundane to the memorable.

She stood from her seat, trembling as she drew in a breath to admit what she never had before. “My name is Lydia,” she hardly recognized the soft voice that came from her lips, it was so rarely used. “And my mother is Mnomosyne, the keeper of memories. My sisters are the Muses and I am at your service.” She suddenly felt like the mouse who roared and a small but pleased smile appeared on her lips.
 
Lexy stood in the midst of the crowd. She had gained much more confidence since her life in the Monastry and it showed in her demeanor. She briefly thought back to the first few nights of her 'freedom' and the dreams that came, cryptically urging her onto a path that lead to this moment.

When there was a pause, she stepped forward gracefully, brushing the loose strands of her out of her face and smiled brightly.

"I am a descendant of Aphrodite." She stated simply. "And I will join you."
 
Brian Sun

Brian observed the whole proceedings with nonchalance. Up until now he had trouble wrapping his head around the idea of gods incarnate walking the earth, much less being related to one. Still, he couldn't deny the signs that brought him here.

During times when he had no clear path to take, the world "spoke" to him. Overlapping street signs, radio and TV blurts linking to cohesion, discarded newspapers blowing up against him. And all of them, at the moment, seemed to point here --the latest leg to the "spirit quest" his mother made him go through six years ago.

"Pfft. Fine," Brian said, rolling his eyes. "I'm Brian Sun, son of the Monkey King, Sun Wukong." He leaned back on a chair he'd pulled up, but even as he unconsciously balanced his weight, the chair threatened to break with a creak. "Titans rising, children of gods, world in danger. Nice story.

"I'll admit I've got a vested interest in, you know, continuing to exist, so I've half a mind to join your happy crew. But how do we know this whole thing is on the level?" He stood up and sidled up to Allison, eyeing her conspicuously with eyes flecked with gold.
 
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"Well then, I am glad to have your assistance each and every one of you. Son's of Orcus and Sun Wukong, and daughters of Artemis, Aphrodite, Mnomosyne. Allison paused to address the man that was now beside her.

"Brain was it? Part of of all our heritage is we can all sense things changing in the world. I assume you have sensed the uneasiness in the air, the feeling that danger is building up even for ourselves. The natural disasters we have had recently aren't just accidents the Tsunami's of Japan, of Sumatra, the hurricane Katrina, just to name a few have all be results of titan activity. Allison returned Brian's look with confidence and strength that would be expected from the daughter of Thor. Finally she turned to the one member still standing there that hadn't spoken yet. "Well will you join us too honey?"

"I have sensed things in the past, but you must be insane if you think I have powers. That I'm some form of a god among men. and women. I have no powers and there is no way any of you do too, that just sounds crazy, yet why do I believe you?" The stylish Japanese girl looked at each and everyone of them trying to make sense of what she was witnessing.

***OOC mosts post from here on out I'll try to separate both characters in different posts unless they would be posting back to back. ***
 
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Adjusting the clingy dress, Lexy looked over at the skeptical Japanese girl and smiled softly, remembering her own journey of discovery. She tried to think of some inspiring words.

"It is not the power that makes the god. It is their strength of will, their heart. If you believe, and you sense, then we could use your help."
 
Lydia Pruitt

She listened to the woman speak and knew exactly who she was. She had seen her walk a runway before and wished she could have such confidence.

"Youre Asuka Kagayaki, right? Your father is the CEO of a fortune 500 company based in Tokyo. You've walked runways in Paris and Japan. In fact your first show all the lights on the runway popped as you walked by. Don't you think that's strange? Is it coincidence or was it nerves?"

Lydia flushed bright red when she realized what she had said. She hadn't intended to sound so stalkerish but it was part of the curse of her long memory.
 
Brian Sun

Brian couldn't help share the Japanese girl's skepticism... but in the few years he'd moved around, he'd seen his fair share of oddities. He snickered and crossed his arms. "More things in heaven and earth, sweetie. Hic et ubique. Don't knock it until..." He caught himself and shrugged instead, not wanting to seem too eager.

He looked around at the motley crew assembled around him: if things DID get down to a fight, the big guy would be worth something, but the girls..? Feh. Fine. Brian thought. I'll help save the world. These small fry couldn't do it by themselves if they wanted to.
 
Maya observed everyone silently, her hands running thoughtfully over the bow she had held out when declaring herself. Two men and five women, including herself, how could they ever hope to take on the Titans with such small numbers? She knew her own abilities but not those of the people around her. What if they couldn't do it? What if they failed? Maya mentally shook herself. She would do everything in her power to make sure they did not fail. She could only pray that the others would do the same.
 
"You may be right. That couldn't just be coincidence." Asuka said to the bookish looking girl who said she was a muse. "What the hell I'll give it a try." Asuka turned to the blond girl that seemed to be trying her hardest to form this group, and bowed as was custom for her culture. She then offered the girl her hand as a gesture she knew was common at least in some western cultures. Although I'm still not going to be much help, I don't have any powers, and I wouldn't even begin to know which god my parent is." Asuka was still really unsure why she was here but they all had made a point and even though every bit of it sounded to be full of ludicrousness she could feel every word they were saying was true.

"So what do we do now? Anyone have any idea's?"
 
Lydia Pruitt

“I…um…I hate to be the one to spoil this effort, but the last fight against the Titans took ten years to resolve. Do you really think that we have a chance? Our parents were so much more powerful than us.”

Lydia had always been a person that liked to please others but she was also practical. This was dangerous and she was afraid of what the outcome could be.
 
Hayden Condan

He looked at the people around him, this sure was turning out to be an interesting group.

"One question since you raised that point Lydia. Since all of us are from clearly different descents, would the Titans really be that immune against us? We are grouped from all Pantheons, our parents may share traits with some of the Greek gods, no offense meant to anybody, but they are not exactly the same."

His rumbling voice actually drew attention to him and suddenly he felt very self conscious, he cleared his throat and looked anywhere, but into somebody's eyes.
 
There is something to be said about trying to cut a deal with a criminal when a dirty cop walks in: it makes for a delicate situation. That is what Xavier was faced with right now as he sat relaxed in a couch looking upon the dirty cop and the Russian crime boss that Xavier was trying to deal with; the delicate situation being that the cop and the Russian both had guns drawn and pointing at each other. What apparently had happened was that the cop had heard that the Russian was expanding his business, which led the cop to thinking that he needed a bigger cut of the Russian’s profits, so he had come to collect. Naturally, the Russian didn’t like that idea and so the delicate situation developed.

Normally, in this type of situation, people usually do one of two things: they either wait for cooler heads to prevail and let the situation defuse itself, or they attempt to defuse it themselves by talking. Well, Xavier chose the second option, but instead of talking, he defused the situation by essentially hitting it with a hammer: he clapped his hands together.

Xavier looked upon the two fresh corpses with a wry grin as he moved over to the Russian’s computer to do some work. A few minutes of silent work and the all the bank accounts belonging to this Russian and his gang were drained, the money sent out to off-shore bank accounts then split up and filtered through nearly a half-dozen more accounts before seeming to disappear completely. Even high-level government agencies would be unable to track the money past those first six accounts. While money wasn’t the main reason why Xavier does what he does, it sure did help, so after every job, he made sure to help himself to his target’s fortunes.

Just then the dirty cop’s phone rang, which was Xavier’s cue to get going. When he had come in, the cop had said that he’d have uniformed officers checking up on him within the hour, so that was probably them calling now, and with the cop unable to answer his phone, they’ll come looking for him. Xavier figured that it would take them about a half an hour to an hour to find the scene, which would give him plenty of time to disappear.

Leaving behind his customary hand-written note, Xavier left the empty house and walked down the street of the upscale neighborhood, ditching the latex gloves he had been wearing since the shooting in a trash can a block away. As he walked, Xavier once again pondered the note he always left behind. It was just a set of what he figured were imaginary runes that he had thought up years ago and he had no idea that they actually translated into something. He didn’t know where he got the idea for the runes or why he felt compelled to leave them behind at the various crime scenes, he just did. Even after nearly fifteen years of leaving behind those notes at hundreds of crime scenes, many like the one he just left, he still had no answer as to the why or how, and honestly, he didn’t care anymore. It was just habit now.

By the time the police arrived at the Russian’s house nearly forty minutes after Xavier left, he was long gone, having vanished like a ghost into the general populace.
 
Allison

Allison looked over the group she had recruited. She wasn't sure they would be enough but she felt there had to be a way. They weren't as powerful as their parents afterall their parents were considered gods. At best some of them might be considered demi-gods but it's doubtful any of them were at the levels of some of the popular comic book characters today. However she did have a plan and hoped the others would be on board for it.

"Lydia you are right, none of us are ready to take on the titans now and it would be a long bloody fight if we managed to survive. The titans are on the rise, the titans are more powerful than us. However they have been unorganized in the past, and overconfident in their own power. This makes them vulnerable, we just have to find a way to equalize the power gaps and take them down one on one." Allison paused, looking each of them in the eyes showing her confidence and her conviction in what she was about to say.

"My father is the mighty Thor. However since the nuclear age he has spent most of his life in hiding as have the other gods. It's clear the nuclear weapons have put them into hiding, I believe this is because the gods themselves don't have a soul and when they die that is it they are dead, and without the worshipers of the past they don't have the powers they once held. I think the reason many of them have been leaving trails of children in the world is so we can fight that fight for them. We are still human and therefore have souls, yet we can walk among the gods of old. This makes us dangerous to the titans because we have human ambition, and the potential to be gods. Many of our parents had mighty artifacts, I think they intend to test us and our rewards are lost relics such as my fathers Mjornir, Zeus's thunderbolt, just to name a few. I want you all to think of something that belonged to your parent in the legends of old. Then we have to think of ways to find these mighty weapons so that we can even the odds against the titans and bring worship back to our parents." Allison hoped that they would be on board. That the scions would figure something they could locate and use against the titans. Allison truly believed without the artifacts and relics from their parents they didn't stand a chance.

"So will you still stand with me, with my plan. I don't care who leads us, I don't care who's heritage we delve into first. It doesn't matter which pantheon's we came from this is where we can exceed our parents by working together instead of segregating into different realms and largely ignoring the other races of our kind for a lack of a better term. Lets defeat the titans and unite our families through our deeds."
 
Steve Denver

He sat there through the whole thing, he listened and watched, his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed to be the youngest person there, he had no idea what this was when he got the invitation, but clearly this was just another of those gang recruitment meetings. He watched as the first person to step forward seemed to just...flow out of the shadows. His rumbling voice stated who he was and then more stepped forward, he shook his head at the insanity and got to his feet.

"Really? Gods? Powers? Titans? You guys seriously need to..."

He stopped speaking as he realized that he was moving, but not towards the doors as his intentions was at first. He struggled against it, but in the end he just wasn't strong enough and he winded up next to the girl who called herself the daughter of Artemis. He tried to step back, or just move away, but he stood like he was rooted to the spot and he sighed. Not again! Sometimes things like this happened, but he was usually able to stop and do as he wished, but this time it just refused to allow him to do as he wanted.

"Fine!"

He looked about him angrily,

"I still think that all of this is hogwash, I'll join your team..."

His words had hardly passed his lips when his body was his again and he stumbled backwards towards the door, losing his footing he landed solidly on his rump and looked around at the people as they chuckled at him. He slowly got to his feet and brushed off his jeans, he had said the words and now he could not take it back, he sighed again.

"I need a psychiatrist."

He mumbled more to himself than anybody else.
 
Lydia Pruitt

“With the proper research, it wouldn’t be very hard to find these lost items. The trick would be retrieving them. We might have to beg, borrow, and steal.” She turned to look at Asuka, Brian, and Steve. “With research I could also find who’s been lost to you.”

She looked at the others, suddenly feeling in her element. “I would need help though. That’s a large task, even for me. Does anyone else here know how to read ancient languages?” She asked the question as if it were a normal everyday occurrence. Her eyes were bright with possibility.
 
Lower Bay, New York on the coast between Brooklyn and Staten Island
19:00 – Piper’s Shipping Co.



Standing amongst a slew of armed men in black suits were two well-groomed and closely-shaven gentlemen. They stood among each other as acquaintances only in business for the slightest wrong move could easily make them enemies. The man on the right was Ukrainian descent, his thin lips curled slightly into a friendly façade, but like the man before him, he was ready for anything he and his group might do. His name was Bohuslav Yehorenko.

A photo was tossed onto the table. “His name is Bohuslav Yehorenko, brown hair, brown eyes, sickly-pale complexion. He’s the perfect wolf in sheep’s clothing except the wolf is evident in his appearance. The guy just emanates scumbag.”

The man on the left was an American. Mr. Untouchable was what he liked to call himself. The man was overconfident and he had every right to be. He had evaded the police, the FBI, and the DEA for half a decade, and it wasn’t difficult with his clean-cut background and harmless occupation as the author of a widely purchased porn magazine known as Rotika. The institutions didn’t suspect the man to be involved in criminal activity as they did his perversion. His name was Nathaniel Clark, his pen name being known as The Red Cock for the symbol of a red, male peacock splaying its tail feathers in a luxurious fan on his magazines. He was an unexpected business partner to be seen meeting Renko on the docks.

“So what do you have for me?” Clark asked with a brilliant grin.

Renko smirked at the American’s enthusiasm and turned to one of the gunmen standing behind him who was holding a portfolio. The gunmen handed it to his superior and the Ukranian opened to the first page of photos, presenting pictures of young men and women eighteen to thirty-years old some painted, nude, and rendering sensual poses. They thought that they were running away to become super models for a million-dollar company, some were kidnapped off the street, and others sold by their own families. They were human beings now products in one of the biggest scandals to not only be present in America but around the world: human trafficking.

Clark’s blue eyes glimmered as he flipped through the photos, closely inspecting the models.

“Nice; very nice,” he complimented. Stepping back from the portfolio, he was all too eager to see his new shipment. “Well, let’s take a look at them.”

Renko waved his hand to one of the gunmen who was working the crane. The crane hefted a blue container off the ship and carefully lowered it to the cement dock. Armed men then quickly approached the container and began unlocking the doors before shouting and waving their guns at the sleeping and malnourished occupants within. The healthiest women quickly fled the container to gaze wearily at their surroundings. The night sky and the air that smelt of salt and rust. Those who were too slow were roughly dragged out and shoved into the gaggle of frightened individuals.

Clark’s happy smile slightly faltered at the sight of them. Some had bruises on their arms and faces as though the henchmen had been too violent and some were looking gaunt and sick.

“Please tell me you at least cut holes in the container so they could breathe?” Clark growled. He then began finger counting them, making sure what he ordered was all there.

Renko smiled sheepishly and brought his hands together so he could nervously squeeze them. “Yes; there are enough holes in it for them to breathe. We gave them enough food and water to last them the trip over, but you see, the healthy girls may have eaten the most and therefore not shared with the others. The weaker girls who cannot handle the stress of travel are sick. If they cannot survive the trip, then they are not worth much to you.”

“I don’t think travel is the only thing stressing them out.” Clark pointed out five of the girls who looked too sick and weak. “Her, her, her, her, and her; I want them gone. I will take the rest.”

The gunmen raised their AKMs, directing it at the five girls and causing the bunch to chorus in terror. The American quickly threw up his hands.

“STOP!” he exclaimed.

The gunmen paused.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Renko explained, “They’re doing as you asked.”

“In front of the other girls?”

“It is how we normally do it so they’ll know that this isn’t a game.”

“No wonder they’re stressed!” Clark then shook his head and released a breath. He was red in the face and getting too worked up. Pinching the corners of his eyes, he continued, “Do it elsewhere. I already have to deal with who knows how much mental scarring they’ve faced before they arrived here.”

Three gunmen grabbed the five girls and shoved them along down a path between the containers to a place out of the sight of the American and the other girls.

“Make sure their dead, and then dump their bodies in the river! I want to hear five gunshots!” he shouted after the men. “Now…”

The Red Cock strode toward the young women who had their eyes cast down. He gently grasped the chin of a red head and turned her head to inspect the purple bruise on her cheek. A bit of balm would get rid of that in less than a week, he mused.

The first gunshot was heard and the American paused in his inspection to listen. The second, third, and fourth followed, and then perhaps ten to fifteen seconds later, the delayed fifth shot was heard. Clark rolled his eyes.

“It seems your men don’t know how to count.”

Renko shrugged.


The five girls were shoved along. Two were staggering to keep up with the gunmen’s quick pace, having been weakened by cold and fever. The girls were softly weeping and whimpering as they feared what awaited them at the end of the walk, but the change in fate came swiftly.

The third gunman who was walking behind the first two was dropped upon from above. Two, booted feet landed on his shoulders and the crushing-weight sent him falling flat to the ground with his face shattering upon the pavement. The two gunmen whirled around at the sound. The rifle of the gunmen on the right was pinned against the wall by a hand as the gunmen on the left received a prompt kick to his abdomen, followed by a second to his throat. The gunman gasped harshly as his hand went to his throat as it suddenly became hard for him to breathe. The world quickly grew black before his eyes as he slumped down the container wall to the ground.

The guard on the right was still struggling to wrench his rifle free as he watched in fright this mysterious gunmen do away with his comrades. The assailant drew a pistol from a holster on his left side and buried the nozzle into the stomach of the remaining man before he fired off three shots. The gunmen convulsed as blood welled free of his lips to descend like a ribbon down his chin. He collapsed to the ground and the assailant fired the fourth shot into the skull of the gunmen whose esophagus he kicked in.

Lowering the gun, he cautiously glanced up and down the path between the containers before he had the strange feeling that he was forgetting something. The man frowned in frustration before his golden eyes drifted over to the trembling girls. One of the women was holding up four fingers. That was it!

Turning the pistol on the gunman whose face he had smashed in, he fired off the fifth shot.



Renko watched as Clark inspected the merchandise. “More inspiration for your magazines?”

Clark finished and turned to Renko. “Not this time. These young men and women are going to a very special customer that approached me. Heh, the guy thinks he’s a Greek myth, ya know, a Titan? But hey, I don’t question it. As long as he pays right?”

“Indeed.”

“All right; let’s get this over with so we can get the hell outta here.”

Renko motioned to one of his gunmen, this one holding a metal suitcase. The gunman set the suitcase down between his boss and the American and undid the code lock that released the clamps. He opened the case to unveil a laptop that they would use to route the money. Clark removed from his pocket a flash drive and was in the process of handing it to Renko when a call crackled on his ear radio.

We found three of the Ukranian guys dead.

Clark hesitated and Renko’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Raising a finger to his ear, Clark asked, “What about the five girls?”

What girls?

Clark frowned, feeling a little disturbed. A second after, Renko received a similar message and glared at Clark.

“Mr. Clark, what are you trying to do?”

The Ukranian and Russian gunmen turned their rifles on the American gunmen. Mr. Untouchable raised his hands as he tried to calm the tension that had suddenly rose like a treacherous tide around them.

“Let’s just calm down here. Renko, you know me. We’ve been in this business for five years now and we’ve never had any issues until now. I know what you want, and you know what I want and were both eager to get it; and with that said, I can assure you that I am not trying to do anything to compromise this deal. Now, I don’t think you’d stage a shooting of your own men, so there could be a rat among us. We can send our men together to seek the fucker out and stomp him!”

Renko gave Clark a deadpan stare and for a second, the American thought the Ukranian was going to snap and have the docks lit like Christmas. Renko then made a motion with his head and six of the remaining guys around him started jogging for the containers.

“Follow them,” Clark ordered to his men, and five briskly followed.

Eleven gunmen charged down the narrow space between the containers, keeping their eyes above and forward. Just as they neared a second path bisecting the one they were currently on, a round object jumped from around the corner and went clattering and rolling past their feet. The men stopped and quickly parted to reveal the black egg that could only be…

“GRENADE!” one of the Americans shouted before the space instantly became cramped with gunmen trying to shove and charge past each other.

KABOOM!

A plume of fire and smoke billowed into the night sky, causing Clark and Renko to tense nervously.

“What the fuck?” Clark exclaimed. Was the Army here or something? He shoved the flash drive at Renko and then waved to two black vans. The vans quickly rolled up to the businessman as he then yelled to the men inside the vehicle, “Get them loaded up now! We’re gettin’ outta here!”

Whoever was here government or not, he couldn’t risk being seen. His business would be ruined.

Renko shoved the flash drive at the computer tech who quickly plugged it in and started the routing process.

The guys and girls were quickly loaded into the vans and the back doors were pulled closed. Clark was staring wide-eyed and anxious at the computer tech. His patience was swiftly thinning as the seconds that rolled by felt like minutes.

“Done!” the tech announced as he drew the flash drive from the computer and handed it back to Clark.

Renko smirked as the tech locked up the laptop and they both turned to leave, “It was nice doing business with you, Mr. Clark.”

The blond businessman returned a forced smile as he bade, “Ciao.”

Unknowingly behind him, a forklift raced toward the two vans and T-boned one of them. Clark spun around to watch with his mouth hanging agape the lift hefting the van off the ground before it rocked to fall free and land on top of the other one, sending both vehicles crashing onto their sides.

The man working the forklift stepped down, drawing a gun from his right holster and sliding from a rung on his tactical vest a cylindrical attachment similar to a silencer. He aimed the pistol downrange to where the Ukranian and the tech were entering a black Chevrolet. He fired one shot at the back bumper, which planted a tracking chip.

Lowering the gun, the dark stranger leered at Clark who was shaking all over in fear and confusion. Their eyes met: his blue eyes with his gold. The man’s eyes stood out in contrast to his gruff appearance; the coarse stumble on his face and how it felt as though Clark was staring down a feral wolf. The stranger’s lips parted presenting an amused grin as though he was just having a good ol’ time.

Clark’s right eye twitched as he glanced from the mercenary to the smoke still rising from the explosion that had occurred not too long ago, and then over to the vans that were lying on their sides. One of the backdoors fell open as one of the girls, dazed and shaken by the crash sluggishly crawled out. His life was over...No, not yet. He was Mr. Untouchable. He’s been in worse jams.

Clark brushed his fingers back through his hair and brushed his palms down the front of his suit. He regarded the mercenary confidently as Jessup crossed his arms before his chest, expectantly.

“Who are you FBI? I will pay ten times your wage if you let me go. You can keep the others. If they’re still alive, you did a bang-up job ensuring their safety…” He cleared his throat. “How does 100,000 sound?”

“Ah come through here makin’ yer boys and his boys look lika’ bunch of school girls holdin’ rifles, and you want me t’letcha’ go for 100,000? Ah think ah deserve more than that, but never mind. If ah went lettin’ cold-blooded bitches like you escape, ah wouldn’t be able ta keep the job ah got now. Ah love blowin’ you numskulls up, and provin’ how vulnerable you really is. Ah kin use whateva’ weapon ah want, kill whoeva’ ah want, and still be legal. Ah dun think 100,000’s worth that. Besides, they’d bust us both. Only one of us is goin’ down river and that’s you,” Jessup said as he pointed a crippling index finger in Clark’s terrified face.

The mercenary laughed insensitively when he saw the millionaire’s face pale and started to leisurely walk a circle around him.

“Sucks dun’it? Ah bet y’made ‘bout ten grand fer each one that’s a nice income. Jus’ think, all the money you worked up now is gonna be gone, and y’know where its goin’? To the gov’ment into the fat pockets of the officials runnin’ this fine country. Oh, and ya know what? Ah work for the gov’ment, which means it all comes back t’me in the end. Well whadaya know?...100,000.” Jessup laughed again at the proposed amount.

The millionaire abruptly faced the mercenary with a face as red as coal. “You red-neck son of a bitch! Do you know who I am? I am Nathaniel L. Clark! I am the author of the most widely read magazine on earth. I’m a millionaire!”

Jessup grinned. “After the people see what kinda’ dirt bag you really are, yer magazines won’t even be good enough t’wipe my ass with.”

Mr. Clark, this is the FBI. You are under arrest!

The tough guy act Clark had been putting on instantly vanished at that second. FBI, police, and SWAT materialized from behind the containers with their guns drawn and a spotlight burning his retinas. His life was definitely over this time. He was a quivering mess on the verge of pissing his pants. Already nightmares of his first day in prison were flashing through his mind, becoming some inmate’s man-bitch for the day or for several years. As the FBI demanded that he stand down, Clark found himself zoning out to focus on one noise: laughter.

He glanced to the mercenary, watching him laugh it up. It made him…so mad. He could feel the rage flowing through his veins like hot water. His muscles felt stiff, his hands were shaking with the urge to wring his damn neck. With an enraged scream, the businessman lunged at the mercenary with hands reaching for his throat.

Jessup stepped back, his right arm drawing back as his bicep muscle swelled and forearm flexed with built-up power. His fingers curled into a large fist that he launched as though released from a spring to slam into the businessman’s face so hard, he could feel his nose crumble against the back of his fingers and the warm splatter of blood. A few of the federal agents winced as they watched Clark fall flat across the turf, his life having been set back several years.

Jessup lowered his arm and glanced to the stunned agents and police officers innocently.

“He scared the hell outta me,” he confessed facetiously.
 
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Brian, listening to Allison, immediately thought of his (supposed) father's staff at the mention of artifacts.

The Ruyi Jingu Bang (The Gold-Bound Rod That Obeys) was an eight-ton staff of black iron that could change its size, multiply itself, or fight on its own. It was also believed to control the ebb and flow of the oceans. If it really did exist, and he could get his hands on it, it could become a potent weapon.

"Does anyone else here know how to read ancient languages?" the girl with glasses --Lydia, if he remembered correctly-- asked and Brian raised his hand. "I've a smattering of Latin and Babylonian, if you ever run over that. Plus, obviously, a handful of Chinese."

He wasn't exactly an expert, but he had learned a thing or two from his mom. Part of her job had entailed poring over religious texts from all over the world-- some of them had been as ancient as they were obscure.
 
Lydia Pruitt

“Oh, Chinese? Which dialect?” She asked, knowing that there were different dialects all over the country, not to mention archaic Chinese which might also cause some problems. She suddenly caught herself and gave a smile, knowing that she was putting too much thought into it. “You know what, I suppose it doesn’t really matter. I can bring some of my books here. It might be easier that way.”

Lydia worked with blinders on when she had a research mission and nothing would stop her until she reached the end of it. Even inconsequential things like sleep and eating wouldn’t bother her or damper her boundless enthusiasm. She looked down the line of people and stepped forward, grabbing the wrist of the tallest man in the room.

“You come with me and we’ll be back in a while.” She tried to pull him after her and was stopped short, stumbling as she turned to look back at him with a questioning look. “You look strong enough to carry some boxes, that’s all.” She said softly, noticing the look that he had on his face. It was the same look she usually had when anyone paid her notice.
 
The room was dark, lit only by a single smoky brazier in the centre of the room. A faint hint of some animal scent hung in the air, cut through with the pungent aroma of brimstone. There were no windows, and a single door of some heavy metal was recessed deep into the wall. It was scorched, a faint black residue on the door speaking of some fiery trauma. A young woman sat in the middle of the cellar, if that's what it was. She seemed out of place, her head hung down, her shoulders moving gently with each breath. She was wearing a grey, well cut business suit, it looked expensive, hugging her frame in all the right places, showing it off to it's best advantage and speaking volumes of the skill of the tailor. A small silver sickle hung at her breast, dangling from a fine chain, it glittered in the flickering light, casting tiny splinters of light across the floor in front of her.

She hadn't been unaware, all those years, she'd been able to peer back into the human realm at times when the veil weakened, she'd seen the age of heroes, the collapse of empires, the world had changed so much since the Titanomachy, but the tools remained the same. Though myth had faded from the world since the age of heroes it was still there, if you knew where to look. Tartarus, Yum Gan, Niflheim, Inferno, whatever you wanted to call it, the realm of the dead held the key to returning the Titans. It was where they were held imprisoned, and where so many of their minions were held alongside them, but now the bonds were weakening, someone with the right knowledge could exploit them easily enough.

The room had appeared to be empty, but now something flickered around the edges of the room. Skittering on the edge of the firelight on all fours, always just out of the light, gradually getting closer and closer to entering it. A voice hissed out of the shadows, gradually morphing and changing as whatever it was grew accustomed to the human realm.

"Come into the shadows child."

The woman looked up, harsh grey eyes staring into the darkness, transfixing the creature despite it's shadowy concealment. It froze, not in terror, but at least in obedience. She raised an eyebrow.

"Come."

The voice was soft and melodious, but concealed an undercurrent as hard and as sharp as a steel blade. The beast came forwards into the light, it's head hanging low in subservient submission. It was a huge dark beast, powerful muscles flexing and rippling beneath thick, shadowy black fur, two red eyes flared as it entered the firelight, but settled down to a dull malevolence. It trotted forward obediently, coming towards the sitting woman and lying down before her. She kept it's gaze transfixed, not blinking, not moving, until she was sure she had it in her power. Slowly, she leaned forward releasing the beasts gaze as she brought her mouth close to it's ear. She whispered, two words, but two words that contained volumes of meaning and power.

"Lexy Astra"...
 
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Brian Sun

Brian had a shit-eating grin on his face as Lydia pulled at him. Back in a while indeed. He knew what she meant, of course, even without her needing to explain it, but hey, a guy's a guy. Besides, the girl had curves in all the right places anyway.

"Oh, yeah. Boxes," he snickered. "Lead the way, zheng dian."
 
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Lydia Pruitt

She looked at Brian with such a suddenly look of heated emotion that she actually frowned. She’d grown up with men like Brian harassing her and it had only gotten worse the older she got. She knew that some considered her beautiful, hell, she knew that there were those out there that would kill to look like her, but she couldn’t care less about her appearance. It’s why she’d worn such thick glasses for so many years. In her mind, it made her beyond reproach and warded off the people who were only interested in beauty.

Here she was though, standing before the children of other gods, feeling a boiling rise of uncharacteristic anger rising in her that she actually felt panicked for a moment. She was calm, cool, collected, shy, and most certainly not emotional. She slapped him, startled by her action as she stepped away from him quickly, her eyes wide.

“Back off…..monkey boy.” She murmured, unable to come up with an insult stronger than that. She looked at the others and was embarrassed but she was determined to maintain her composure. Straightening her glasses, she squared her shoulders and looked towards Allison. “I apologize for my outburst. I’ll go alone and get what I need.”

With that, she looked around at all assembled once more, another glare shot at Brian before she turned and headed for the door.
 
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