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The heroes of yesterday are dead and gone. Division and the Mutant Control Enforcement Agency (MCEA) saw to that. This dystopia we live in is the result of one anti-mutant hate crime that sparked the third world war. The law now requires mutants to register, to spend the rest of their lives being a number on a file with a tracking device on their wrist or in their bloodstream.

For a while, the children of fallen heroes started to work in the shadows as the new X-Men. Not all that long ago, the latest incarnation of the X-Men was brought down in flames by Division's efforts. Team members captured, Agents killed, Cosmic fire everywhere... It seems as though the days of the X-Men have come and gone once again. Or have they?

Notice: Human Division employees are still much needed, even if they're depowered mutants. We would also love to see more MHA, Morlock and Purifier affiliated characters.

We are currently accepting Site-Canons and Originals



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 Innocent Wishes, Tag Jer & Zora
JOSEPH L. DORSEY
 Posted: May 4 2017, 08:53 PM
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Ghost Rider

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Life had just taken a rather shitty turn in the young detective’s life. As far as he knew the X-Men were at an end. It wasn’t as if they were just jumping at the chance to rebuild what they had. Sure, at least he was alive, that was a thing. What was living if not to have to worry about looking over your shoulder. So, far no one was coming to arrest him once he’d taken the teleporter back to the city. Chicago went on without the X-Men present. God, he needed a drink. That wasn’t something that Joseph Dorsey usually did, but the times were changing.

At least they hadn’t taken his wheels. Joseph parked not too far away from the city’s number one cop bar. All the big shots hung their hats at this joint after a long day on the job. At least the ones that didn’t mind drinking and shooting the shit. With hands in pockets he pushed through the easy to open door. The air was filled with the smell of beer and cigarettes. That silly early 2,000’s law had been repelled ages ago. Most of the officers in this place wouldn’t have listened to it either way if they had decided to keep it. The air was thick with the visible evidence of whatever cigars were lite as well. Some of the other officers liked that sort of thing, Joe wasn’t interested in ruining his lungs, just his liver a little tonight.

The taller gentleman nodded at some work acquaintances has he shouldered his way towards the bar. So far so good. It wasn’t just a cop only bar. There were a fair number of civilians that frequented this establishment. They were getting rowdy over the local sports team on the big screen television in the corner of the building. Finally getting to the barkeep Joseph ordered a craft beer and sat down on a stool, placing a fiver on the aged wooden surface. Pulling his new phone out of his pocket. Joseph pressed the circular button to check for notifications but nothing appeared. No messages out of the blue from anyone really. A sigh escaped his lips when he knew that he’d have to talk to Paris and give the number over, just in case there was an emergency. Not that she’d need his assistance, but old habits die hard. Then there was the issue that he hadn’t even talked to Kat about anything. Not that he was going to drop anything important in terms of information, but he had planned on talking to her after their run in at the park during the festival. So far he just hadn’t worked up the nerve or courage to do so.

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JEREMIAH R. GUTHRIE
 Posted: May 11 2017, 03:14 PM
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GUARDIAN

P.I. 32 He/Him 182 POSTS
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They said something about Monday's being the worst. Lately, it seemed like things were becoming one long Monday. Guthrie's case load had dried up over the last week and a half and Joe was spending time making poor life choices with Chaplyn more and more. While that didn't normally bother him, it had left a large hole in his schedule. He'd sent a few texts here and there to Sidony and he'd popped into visit Pete and Wade briefly, but there was a definite lack of structure lately. He figured that he'd pop down to the cop bar he frequented when he wanted to hang out with other professionals that he occasionally consulted with and did his best Sam Spade impression.

Guthrie pulled up in his old 2012 Blue Mustang. He'd spent a decent amount of time restoring and refitting it, so that it wasn't much of a gas guzzler. It was more electric now than anything else, which was important in the post WW3 economy. He threw the car in park and shut it off, pocketing the keys as he got out. He took a cursory glance around, looking for any random passersby that might be tailing him. Old habits died hard, he thought.

He opened the door and walked through a cloud of solid smoke, and took a deep breath. He didn't smoke anymore, but he'd had so much secondhand smoke lately, that he was wondering if that even counted anymore. As the private eye strolled in, he heard mumblings from officers about some of the things that had gone down in Chinatown. Everyone and their mother had converged on the place. Even Jeremiah and his rag tag team of travelers from their little NYC expedition stopped by to see what was going on at the urging of the little Scots girl that was traveling with them. Needless to say, Guthrie was concerned.

Someone from his past had walked out from the firehouse, mostly on fire. David Summers, the pain in the ass from his childhood, had apparently followed in his mother's footsteps and become a weapon of mass destruction. The only difference was that Jean Grey was a decent human being and had some redeemable qualities from what little Jer remembered about her. Her offspring did not have that going for him.

Guthrie dropped into a seat next to a familiar face and threw a 20 on the bar. "Dorsey. Don't see you here too often." He nodded to the bartender and then to Dorsey. "Keep 'em coming, Mac. And cover Dorsey's tab too. Let me know when we need another one." The bartender opened a beer and set it in front of Jeremiah and he nodded his thanks.

"You look like I feel. Rough week too?"
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ZORA N. WILLIAMS
 Posted: May 28 2017, 10:44 PM
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LADY HAVOC

WISHMASTER twenty-seven SHE/HER 31 POSTS
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© MAGS · SHE/HER · Offline


Zora had done everything within her power to obfuscate her escape route and intended destination, in every conceivable way possible. This included making as few solid decisions as possible in case Konstantine employed a precognetic individual to attempt to track her down. The only thing she knew for certain was her end destination. Australia. Though many called it a hell on earth, Zora knew it to be the only safe place for someone such as herself to thrive. A place of perpetual chaos and despair would surely be the perfect place to erect a temple to the the one true god.

She had come to Chicago on a last minute whim. The way her brother had ranted and raved about it every time he returned home from a visit, had made the city and its people become something of a curiosity to her. Zora had not anticipated that a single city would have such a strong underlying current of chaotic energy. She had seen the world over but few places felt the way Chicago did. It almost made it worth sticking around longer than she had stayed in any one place since escaping Latveria. Almost.

Her grasp on reality was once again slipping like sand between her fingers. With every second that passed the world lost more and more of its solidity and the doubts and fears began returning. Bugs under her skin with aggravating little voices that couldn’t decide what was true and what was lies. Unlike only a few months before she knew how to fix it now. Purging the excess power was the only way to restore her ability to think clearly. So purge she would... If only one of the drunk men she was barely tolerating would just say the words she desperately needed to hear. Zora was having no luck, at this point she would even try to work with something as banal as ‘I wish I had another beer’.

The man she sat next to in the booth placed his hand on her thigh and the wishmaster did her best not to sneer or look as disgusted as she was. The idea of having such common, mortal hands on her was abhorrent at best. She was an evolved being and he was just some washed up jock who was losing his hair and had had a few too many donuts. Anyone or anything lower than herself on the great chain was a laughable at best. Her patients for the detective was wearing thin, but fresh blood had just entered the bar looking like he and then his friend had both had awful days. People in poor moods always seemed to make the best possible poorly worded wishes. Zora picked the balding man’s hand off her leg as though she was picking up a piece of wet garbage and excused herself sating the intention of getting another drink.

Though she was at the side of the bar farthest from the conversing men, she was still close enough to hear every word either of them said. They didn't have to make the wish directly to her, at least one of them just had to say those two words and she could make miracles happen. However, if she needed to make conversation she was entirely ready to do so. They were much more physically appearing than her previous prey. The lighter haired one would have been one of the most attractive men in the bar were it not for the horrible beard adorning his face. Still, she coyly smiled in their general direction as the bartender sat a newly opened bottle of imported beer down in front of her. Zora monitored her alcohol consumption carefully, she was in no state to become intoxicated. Losing control over her physical form without having granted any wishes would probably be bad.

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JOSEPH L. DORSEY
 Posted: May 29 2017, 09:07 AM
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Ghost Rider

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The adult refreshment made him feel a little better, even if it was a temporary feeling. The drink found courage for some, relaxation for others. For Dorsey the early effects was just as a stress reliever, even made him smile more often. The days had indeed been rough for the young detective. At least he wasn't a drunk, like most of these fellow coworkers. They had of course been on the force much longer than he had. They'd been through some hellish times, Dorsey didn't want to judge them too harshly. Some of them were corrupt and lacking in their skills has a law enforcement officer. He often wondered how those types got a head in the force, more than likely doing un savory favors.

He wasn't thinking of being joined by anyone, then someone familiar took the stool next to time. The scruffy man laughed slightly as Jeremiah Guthrie told him about this attendance in the establishment. "It's been a rough couple of days." Joseph said downing his drink, letting the barkeep refilling it. "Thanks by the way. That makes me feel better. Good to know that I look bad." The drink made him talk a little more harshly then he usually would to people. "Work has been a little crazy." He wasn't talking about the Chicago Police Department, but the X-Men. Sure he'd been back to work since then, but the X-Men had been gone for only a little bit. "I wish I could solve all these work issues, if only I had the power to avenge all these wrong doings. As corny as that sounds. God just listen to me." Taking another sip of the amber beverage into his system.

"Not only that, but my dating life seems to be on the rocks...again." Joseph said admitting about the situation between himself and Kat. Not that he would call them dating he supposed. They'd met in the park once during the festival, but since then there had been nothing. Other than the body in her estate. He wasn't sure if he could get himself involved deeper. Joseph hadn't bothered to call Kat after finding the body and taking on the case. "How's the business going?" Dorsey said setting down the glass on the counter top. "Still catching cheating spouses on flim?"
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JEREMIAH R. GUTHRIE
 Posted: Jun 30 2017, 11:01 PM
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GUARDIAN

P.I. 32 He/Him 182 POSTS
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“Well, then I’d say the down time is deserved. It keeps the burn out away. I’ll keep covering the rounds until you look a little better than the southbound side of a northbound mule.” Guthrie raised his glass. “To your health, Dorsey.”

The comments about work caused Jer to nod. “Yeah. Seems like it’s been a little crazy lately. From firehouses blowing up to that business over at the university a few months back. You’d think the national capital would be just a bit safer than some random shanty town on the edge of the wastes. But some days, I’m starting to wonder.”

The telekinetic detective piqued an eyebrow at the statement. “Wish in one hand and shit in the other. See which fills up faster.” He shook his head at the police detective. “Corny as hell. You sound like an old pulp character. Besides, vengeance isn’t the same as justice and you know it. Not your style. You’re lawful good. You make the rest of us cowboys look bad.” He and Dorsey had shared a few drinks at the place before. Guthrie felt comfortable enough to give him a little bit of a razzing. It was important to try to get a laugh where you could.

“At least you have a dating life to be on the rocks. I just have confusing mess with this girl I see from time to time. I don’t even think it counts as dating. It’s more just a competition of who's more paranoid.” He’d been spent a bit of time with Sidony here and there and was still trying to figure out exactly what was going on there. He was sure that something would become clear to him eventually, but at the moment he had no idea where it was going. He gave a shrug to Dorsey and went back to sipping his beer.

“Still doing detective work. The occasional recovery job, but that’s usually only for dangerous types and bail jumpers. Business is good. No shortage of liars and thieves in this world. You of all people should know that.” He gave a small laugh and sighed. “How’s things at the cop shop?”
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ZORA N. WILLIAMS
 Posted: Aug 27 2017, 09:44 PM
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LADY HAVOC

WISHMASTER twenty-seven SHE/HER 31 POSTS
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© MAGS · SHE/HER · Offline


An exhilarating shudder ran through her body as the dark haired man said the magic words. The lights in the bar flickered as her powers flared up and the whispers only she could hear became excited. The man's wish was as loosely made as Zora had thought it would be. People were careless when they believed themselves safe. People were idiots, there was no such thing as 'safe'.

Even with the energy beating against her insides, threatening to tear through her human appearance to reveal her true form she still had enough awareness to hear the bearded man's reply. She knew she didn't like him. Zora decided to hex the man before she left that night. He looked the type to self destruct before her little hex inducements wore off. It would serve him right for disrespecting the sanctity of the wish.

"I wish I could solve all these work issues, if only I had the power to avenge all these wrong doings." Zora let the man's words echo through the chaotic void. The energy pulsated within her, it curled and uncurled around the near infinite possibilities. It pushed and pulled at all the promising outcomes she could think of. There was a picture in her mind that the power kept coming back to and vigorously tried to pull out of the murky depths of her memory. A story her father had once told her.

The power gripped that image tight and refused to let go, forcing the words up and out of her as if it knew something she didn't. Of course it did. Chaos was everything and therefore knew everything. Who was she to try and argue with it, she was just the vessel for the Lord's workings. Zora through her power into the void following the path that the chaos had laid out before her. Her invisible hand reached through time and space until it found what it was looking for.

Somewhere in time people were fighting a losing battle in an impossible war. They were too busy in the midst of their own chaotic experience to notice the right hand of chaos reaching out into that moment of time. In that moment of time a man was making a great sacrifice, he would die in the next few minutes. He would not notice the medallion on his motorcycle being pulled through the void.

The medallion arrived in a black puff of chaotic energy landing on the bar before the dark haired man with an audible thud. There was a metallic ringing as it spun in a circle on its end before it fell over. She felt better, more secure in her sanity and physical being, but there was still one last burst of power needed to complete this wish. Zora felt it, like an electrical current humming beneath her flesh-suit but she could not be sure if the power was going to be her own or something else. It was not as if she had a detailed plan for this scenario, nor was she entirely certain it would work.
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JOSEPH L. DORSEY
 Posted: Sep 4 2017, 02:25 PM
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Ghost Rider

DETECTIVE 30 He/Him 71 POSTS
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© TEMUR · He/Him · Offline


Joseph wasn’t the type of man to get blind stinking drunk. His mother and father taught him the virtues of moderation. Tonight, was a different night however. This night stresses had been wearing him down, similar to that of a ship’s anchor. Cases had been piling up higher and higher. The X-Men had been pretty much destroyed. The Firehouse was no longer a source of safety. The city indeed felt like it had just fallen to the grip of madness. The detective was feeling almost completely hopeless in this disgusting city that they called the nation’s capital.

The bourbon was helping him feel at least a little more centered. Relaxation was hard to grasp, but the liquid made him feel a little more at ease. It was no wonder most men used the liquid as a device to hold themselves up in life. Dorsey was looking at his bar buddy, a hand reached out for his glass pausing briefly when he felt warm metal. It wasn’t enough to burn his skin, but more like it had been left out in the sun for a few minutes. Eyes were drawn to the circular object resting in front of his beverage. There were odd markings upon its surface, made it look old and valuable. Something inside him spoke to him, that it looked familiar, but he was positive that he’d ever locked eyes upon this object. His palm, which still contained moisture from this glass, picked up the strange new thing in front of him.

The detective’s head quickly glanced each direction, looking to see if someone had been looking for his. He’d been sure someone would have been quick to claim it. ”What the hell.” The cop said puzzled. As soon as Dorsey held the heavy artifact in his hand the pub went pitch black, save for himself. His ears heard voices in the distance. ”Barbara! NO!” An older man screamed out, followed by a woman scream. ”Oh god Barbara.” The strange disembodied voice said weeping. ”Hello! Where are you?!” Doresy shouted out into the pitch black surrounding him. Nothing returned his desire for an answer. Before he could ask again, a series of images almost too fast to focus on past in front of him. Mostly that of a landscape engulfed in flames. People were screaming and running, their cries could be heard echoing in whatever place this was. His heart began to pump harder in his chest, fear filled his being. Lungs brought in air and exhaled it fast. Spinning in place, Dorsey couldn’t even tell if he was moving at all. A motorcycle roared in the distance, first idle then like someone had let the throttle open. Stopping in his tracks the man froze in fear at the nose. There was a light in the distance, coming towards his direction. The sound of the exhaust grew as it came close. It’s light almost getting close enough to see what it was. The thing was hard to make out, but it looked like a motorcycle, but some someone or something at the controls. It could have been a man, but he wasn’t sure.

Taking a few steps backwards, Joseph wasn’t sure if this was a good thing. Probably a mutant messing with his head, if not everyone’s head in the bar. Hell, perhaps this person had a grudge against him. Looking down, a hand reached for his police issue firearm, but wasn’t on his person. He’d still been wearing it when he entered the establishment. Looking back up the light blinded him, even with his hands trying to block the light. A terrible scream belted out from the light.

It was then that Detective Dorsey fell off the back of his stool and onto the establishment’s floor. Everyone stopped to give one of the city’s detective’s a look and laugh. Turning his gaze in either direction Joseph was back, and so was everyone else. ”Guthire, what the hell just happened? Where did everyone go?” The tall, dark haired man got up off the floor and shook himself off. The thing on the countertop was gone. ”Someone’s fucking with my head.” He said raising a hand to rub at this temple.

If there was a mutant in this place they’d chosen to keep that fact a secret. There really was no way to tell who was the guilty party. There were tons of people he didn’t know in this place. Any one of them could have been the one who’d gone and messed with his grey matter. ”I’ll be right back. Gotta hit the head.” Joseph said to Jeremiah, getting up from his stool once more and slowly strolled towards the door labeled appropriately for his sex’s use.

For the moment, the space was barren. Slowly he made his way towards the rather clean sink, looked at himself in the mirror, and reached for the hot water knob. The stainless-steel pipe immediately turned on and steam came from the tap. Cupping both hands, he bent over and gave his face a good rinse. All he could think about was what he saw in that hallucination, if it was indeed one. It felt like rage he’d never felt before, but also sadness. ”This place..” A voice called out from somewhere behind him. The detective turned to see no one behind him. He took a deep breath, startled by it. Then turned back towards the reflection of himself. ”So much pain and suffering.” The voice called out again. ”What the fuck do you want!” Joseph cried out and moved towards the stalls and threw both of the doors open. Nothing was there, save for the recently cleaned toilets. ” Vengeance for the innocent!” The foreign voice said right in his head. It felt like he was getting a fever. At least in that moment, but it seemed to only get worse. Like his blood was boiling within his veins. Both palms held himself upright over the skin. A whine of unpleasantness escaped his parted lips. A little discomfort turned into full blown agony, like someone was taking a blow touch to his skin, just all over his body. Epidermis started to bubble and pop, but blood didn’t ooze out, but it seemed like fire had taken its place. Until only a skull was left, surrounded by a fire that didn’t seem to want to stop. Joseph was no longer in control, but something else. ”This city bleeds.” The Ghost Rider said pushing through the bathroom door. ”It desires vengeance! I ride again!” The voice that escaped the flaming skull was deeper, darker, and full of purpose. It no longer sounded like Joseph Dorsey.
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JEREMIAH R. GUTHRIE
 Posted: Sep 7 2017, 10:20 PM
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GUARDIAN

P.I. 32 He/Him 182 POSTS
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© MATRIX · He/Him · Offline



At the mention of his questionable dating life, Guthrie checked his phone for texts while waiting for Dorsey to respond. He fired a quick one off to Sidony, inquiring about plans for the weekend and if she'd like to do something. Hopefully, it wouldn't have to be disguised as some sort of operation or strategic exercise. It would just be nice to spend time with her and have some sort of fun.

"Fun? Oooooh. Did you manage to turn off her Vulcan sensibilities? Maybe managed to convince that you'd like to date her instead of discussing the finer points of an exit strategy?" Gideon was looming again. He hadn't quite figured out if the projection was what it said, a remnant of the Project or that Guthrie had finally cracked. Either way, he'd opted not to tell anyone about the projection. It had given him some sort of finer control over his powers. Or at least he thought it had, but he was entirely unsure.

Guthrie waved it away and looked back over to Dorsey, ignoring Gideon's comment about his rudeness. Dorsey was frozen for a few moments. Jeremiah hadn't heard him answer the question about how work was going. He wondered if the man had gotten lost in his own thoughts. "Dorsey? It wasn't that hard a question. C'mon, Joe." Then the man sprung to life and fell back off his chair. There were a few laughs and the bartender looked a Jer questionably. He waved it off.

The questions were concerning. Where was everyone else? Who did he mean? Guthrie shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about, Joe. It's just you and me here." He tried to keep an even tone to his voice, not betraying his concern. He didn't think that losing your mind was contagious, but he was still worried. "Yeah, yeah. Go throw some water on your face. You're probably just having a rough night."

He watched Dorsey move towards the head. Gideon moved into his view again. The construct's hand came up, a finger pointed horizontally towards his head and the construct made sure it was spinning in the universal sign for crazy. "That guy is is crazier than you are, Guthrie. And that says something."

"Do me a favor and shut up, Gideon."

The bartender looked over at Jeremiah. He shrugged. "Just thinking out loud. Sorry."

As the bathroom door opened, Guthrie couldn't help but notice the flaming skeleton walk out. Luckily, so did everyone else in the bar. This being the kind of place where no one brought their firearms, everyone looked around and then started moving towards the door. They were all brave, but no one wanted anything to do with that with no weapons of any kind.

Gideon looked at Guthrie and then back at the Ghost Rider. "Call me crazy, but didn't he used to not be on fire? And less ranty about vengeance?"

"I need you to shut up, Gideon."

"Oh, God. You're going to try to fight him, aren't you? Jeremiah Guthrie, I would be tempted to grab popcorn and root for the other guy, except that when he kills you, I'm going to die too. Seriously. Did they not check your psych profile before putting me inside?"

Guthrie manifested a pair of construct escrimas in his hands and then willed a blue construct box around the Ghost Rider with his TK powers.

"Come on. Call Antigone. Call Winona. Call the goddamned Air Force and have them nuke him from orbit..."

"Trying to focus here. Shut up."

"Oh, we're so screwed. I regret being in your head."

"For once, we agree."
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ZORA N. WILLIAMS
 Posted: Oct 1 2017, 11:22 PM
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LADY HAVOC

WISHMASTER twenty-seven SHE/HER 31 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© MAGS · SHE/HER · Offline


Zora felt a shiver run down her spine, as she watched the dark haired man mindlessly touch the medallion. She licked her lips and sighed. The wish master had expected a little more of a show for her effort. It was looking as though the results would not be as impressive as she had hoped. At least she had regained as much control as possible over the chaotic energies within.

Then it happened.

The man abruptly fell off his stool, causing a number of people to laugh and cheer as the clumsy action. They didn't know what she did, they thought he was just some drunk. It was coming, the rider was actually coming. Zora lit up like a small child on Christmas morning. She took a sip of the beer in front of her and set it down on the counter silently chuckling to herself as the dark haired man darted past her and into the men's room.

Her mind reeled, brimming with questions and anticipation. She debated with herself whether or not to turn around and watch the door, waiting for her fun surprise. Zora opted to sit perfectly still and close her eyes, listening to the muffled shouts. The peons' shrieks would serve as plenty warning, letting her know when it was time to look. It was not a long wait before the rider's beautiful, horrible, voice announced itself.

Zora spun around on her stool and squealed in delight at the sight of the man of burning bones. The peons scattered like rats, but they were not worth her attentions. Unless of course they said the magic words, wishing for something worth her while. Zora giddily applauded the rider and his dramatic reveal. "Bellissimo!"

A blue box appeared around the Ghost Rider and it thoroughly scandalized Lady Havoc. She abruptly got to her feet and looked around, ready to cause harm to whomever was dispensable for messing with her shiny new toy. It was the bearded friend of the dark haired man. Of course it was. The disrespectful lout was clearly begging to learn either the power of the wish or the horror of the hex. "How dare you! Release him at once!"
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JOSEPH L. DORSEY
 Posted: Dec 26 2017, 09:10 PM
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Ghost Rider

DETECTIVE 30 He/Him 71 POSTS
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The time around him felt wrong, off somehow. He could feel that this wasn't the same place. At first Ghost Rider thought that he'd been transported by some act of magic. An attempt at saving his life from the ultimate sacrifice. The only problem was the pain, the suffering, the cries of those that echoed in it's being. The spirit was going to make a beeline for the exit, when something stopped him. A wall of blue energy blocked his forward progress. Head tilted towards the owner of the box. He could tell this was no ordinary man, but one of those gifted with powers. It was ill-advised the the man tried to contain his judgement over those that would stop the innocent from being avenged.

Firey fist pulled back and pounded once on the wall. The energy of the barrer crackled as it met the flames of hell. A second fist made a larger cracking sound. This wall wouldn't hold him forever, it was already bending to the spirit's will. It had been toe to toe with some of the deadliest beings in all reality, and survived, a simple shield seemed like a child's toy. Pulling back, the flames around his right fist seemed to glow brighter. The blow came fast, the amount of energy put behind it wasn't great, but it echoed like thunder as the struck home and made the chain shatter like a cheap plastic toy. The woman's words did catch his ears before the dome shattered around him. She wreeked of foul magics and energies.

Sockets containing no eyes starred at the man holding two silly weapons made of the same energy. The spirit was annoyed that the being in front of him was so arrogant to think he could contain his being and stop the mission. Seemingly calm, the Sprint of Vengeance walked toward the mutant with the beard, not intimidated by his tools. "Witch!" Flame head said looking past the annoying human. "Your magics have disrupted the natural order." It's pace quickened, ready to deal with the one that had disrupted him from the mission with Mephisto. Ghost Rider wasn't sure if his ancient rival was dead or still alive back in his time. One way or another he was ready to make the woman fix what she'd done. The stench of her energy grew stronger with each step he took towards her. "You'll burn for this!" The demonic voice threatened getting within striking distance of the man, ignoring him completely.
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JEREMIAH R. GUTHRIE
 Posted: Feb 7 2018, 03:50 AM
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GUARDIAN

P.I. 32 He/Him 182 POSTS
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© MATRIX · He/Him · Offline




Guthrie knew he was in over his head. From what little he remembered of the Ghost Rider, the telekinetic PI knew that he was fighting far enough outside his weight class that he needed a step ladder to make this work. Gideon was oddly silent for the moment, as if trying to weigh its own options. Guthrie was happy for the few seconds of silence. Then came the surprising shouting of a lady complaining about his locking the Ghost Rider up.

Well, that narrowed down a few options: Either the crazy woman summoned this thing here, and Dorsey was dead, she somehow turned Dorsey into this thing, or she was just insane and hanging around for the show. Guthrie waved his right arm towards Zora and four telekinetic throwing knives slammed into the bar counter near her. "Lady, I'm sure the story about how you came to be off your meds is fascinating, but I'm going to need you to kindly shut the fuck up if you ain't leaving. Thanks for the cooperation."

Whichever of those options was the real scenario, didn't matter. Jeremiah had to finish holding this thing off until everyone was safely out of the bar. As the shield box shattered, Guthrie stumbled back, the psychic whiplash causing a pain in his head. The Ghost Rider walked towards him and as it spoke, it sounded like someone put rocks in a blender. He looked down at the escrimas and realized that they wouldn't be enough.

Gideon spoke up. "You know what you have to do. I will regulate your brain functions to keep it from killing you right away. That should buy you more time than you usually have. You need to hit as hard as you can."

Jeremiah didn't speak. He just nodded, acknowledging the invisible-to-all-but-him psychic construct. During the war, he wouldn't have thought twice about this. But he was different then. He couldn't afford to be different now. Gideon walked into Jeremiah and faded as if for dramatic effect and then Guthrie dismissed the Escrimas and held out his hands. The telekinetic aura surrounded him and then flared from blue to gold as Guthrie released his hold on his full power. He could feel the blood start to gush out of both nostrils as he did this. He wouldn't have much time.

He pulled back his right hand, remembering an attack that Simmons, a Private in his unit had named wall of blades. Guthrie formed 50 golden construct knifes and flung them all at the Ghost Rider. in one fluid motion of his right hand. He knew they wouldn't do anything other than annoy. He just needed the distraction.

Then Guthrie pulled back both hand and released a wave of telekinetic power with a push of his hands. A solid wave of golden psychic force radiated forward and flew towards the Spirit of Vengeance in an attempt to throw it through a wall, though at this point, Jer would settle for pushing it the hell away from him.

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ZORA N. WILLIAMS
 Posted: Feb 23 2018, 05:40 AM
Quote

LADY HAVOC

WISHMASTER twenty-seven SHE/HER 31 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© MAGS · SHE/HER · Offline


Zora gasped as the unreal blades stabbed into the bar and was taken aback by his disrespectful words. She should not have been surprised. He had been displaying his distasteful nature since he had arrived."Blasphemous dog!" She shouted back, entirely prepared to teach the horrible little mortal a thing or two before a delightful sound distracted her. The Ghost Rider had broken through the mystery box and back in play, just as she had wanted.

A haughty laugh escaped her lips as the otherworldly creature mentioned 'the natural order' and continued towards her. The witch wiggled her finger back and forth as if scolding the entity. "Oh sweet, Spirit. Surely something as old and experienced as yourself must know." A slow devious smile spread across her scarlet lips as the being threatened her with burning. If he was going to tease her so, she was glad to him right tease back. "The order of which you speak is a lie used to obtain blind obedience."

"There is only one true natural order, and it is chaos." She let the mask of humanity she had worked hard to hold onto slip away to reveal her 'true' form. The dark energy bound into a humanoid form spread her arms wide as if to welcome the Ghost Rider into a hug as it began levitating a foot off the floor. Zora was genuinely curious as to what sort of glorious chaos would erupt should hell fire caress her energy form. Her playtime was rudely interrupted once again, this time by golden energy knives.

Before she could wrap her head around what had just happened, a golden wall struck the Ghost Rider. An enraged shriek left the chaos deity as she exploded into a large smokey cloud. How dare that horrible creature attempt to harm the spirit of vengeance. The bar itself felt the weight of the energy cloud and it's fury in all the places it was in contact with the chaos. A crack began forming across the floor, up the wall and began across the ceiling. The wallpaper began curling at its edges and the floors creaked protesting her touch.

"So you wish to play with knives, Dog?" Zora pulled herself back into her humanoid form after speaking. "I am happy to oblige." She mentally reached outward into her surroundings and spread her power throughout. The chaos deity summoned all the real knives in the cop bar to her in a cloud of black smoke. Bringing her arms in as if gathering blankets to her chest, Zora then cast her arms outward throwing knife-filled smoke cloud at the mutant. The energy encasing the knives quickly dissipated leaving only the knives rushing towards the bearded man.
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JOSEPH L. DORSEY
 Posted: Feb 24 2018, 10:07 PM
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Ghost Rider

DETECTIVE 30 He/Him 71 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© TEMUR · He/Him · Offline


The woman was testing the limits of it’s patience. That the lies she told him would be enough to make it stand down from the mission at hand. She served the corrupting nature of the universe and The Ghost Rider could smell the blood emanating off of the woman’s body or in reality her true form. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that the woman across the establishment was responsible for pain and suffering. The chaos she so served faithfully was shared by so many other beings, things that the spirit had sent packing back to their own dimensions. ”Your faith is misplaced. It’s time you learn the price for your deeds.” The Spirit of Vengeance said as it watched Zora changed into another version of her body.

A flaming skeleton hand reached and padded it’s chest, searching for the chain it had in the past. Raising both hand it became ready to fight, to unless vengeance upon the creature before itself. Hellfire would cleanse the beast, but before it had a chance to rain it down upon the energy creature, a wall of force smacked him hard. A flaming skeleton went through the air like a toy and crashed hard through not just one wall of the drinking center, but the exterior one as well. Wood splintered, bricks shattered, and littered the floor not only around himself, but at the newly formed door.

Ghost Rider came to land on the cold raining alleyway, the rain soaking the garments the host vessel was wearing. It wasn’t damaged but more stunned that a mere mutant dare strike at it. Sitting up the water seemed to just turn to steam as it hit the hellfire. It was without weapons, without its normal allies.

Standing the spirit slowly strode back into the bar, the way it came out. ”Leave mutant, before I turn my gaze upon your sins. The witch will burn this very eve.” It said from the other side of the hole, watching as the woman was making good to harm the breaded human. Weapons seemed to be conjured out of thin air. A simple trick of low magic, something he’d seen the great sorcerers of the now past do on an every day chore. Actively attempting murder was a bold move in front of a Spirit of Vengeance. If she’d known anything about what it was, she’d rethink the current path the chaos demon was on. The man would have to fend for himself, for it was already out of range to help him. If he died, his death would be avenged through righteous fury.

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JEREMIAH R. GUTHRIE
 Posted: Feb 27 2018, 03:27 AM
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GUARDIAN

P.I. 32 He/Him 182 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© MATRIX · He/Him · Offline




Guthrie hadn't thought his TK burst would work. He saw the Ghost Rider go through the wall and outside the bar. Admittedly, he was thinking it would slam him into the wall, not send him through it. It was hard to gauge at this level. That was why he never let himself use it, unless needed. He was starting to think that was a bad idea in retrospect.

"Yes, imagine that. It's a bad idea not to have complete mastery of your powers just because you had some trauma in the war. Go figure. And now we're going to die, because I can't even hold the gate open for you much longer than your usual."

Gideon was being more of an ass than usual, Jer noted as he wiped the free flowing blood away from his nose. "Who asked you." He said quietly. Guthrie was about to add more when the Witch transformed herself into something else entirely and warped the bar. The telekinetic detective raised an eyebrow and whistled. "You don't see that every day."

"We are so fucked, Guthrie." Gideon said again, before making a coconut with an umbrella and straw appear. He sipped from the drink and shrugged. "Might as well enjoy it before the end, I suppose. I never asked for this. I wasn't programmed to deal with this sort of idiotic behavior."

Jeremiah's aura turned blue again as he brought his powers safely under control. This wasn't going to be won by using something he rarely ever touched. The Ghost Rider stepped back into the bar and said something about turning his gaze on Jer's sins. Guardian grinned. "Sparky, as much as I'd like to let you set her on fire, I can't sit by and watch you harm another human. Especially when you're probably riding shotgun in a pal's body."

Before he could react, the woman reformed into a solid form and said something, Jer didn't quite hear. Then a cloud of knives came flying towards him. The mutant threw his hands up and created a quick shield of cerulean energy. Regret flooded him for using up so much of his power so early in the fight. He was out of practice fighting like this. He'd blown his load too early, as Joe would say. But then again, he'd never fought like this, had he? Maybe just the one time. But that was so long ago. The knives impacted with his construct shield and the hasty bubble cracked and shattered and Guthrie let out a scream of agony before dropping to one knee.

A long, thin, fillet knife protruded from his right hand, while what looked to be two small pairing knives stuck out of his left thigh. The entire debacle was topped off by a large chef's knife jutting out of Guthrie's right shoulder. Guthrie's breath came in short, ragged breaths as blood pooled on his shirt and pants, and dripped from his hand. It hurt to breathe. That wasn't a good sign. His left hand came up on instinct and ran over his torso, doing a check.

His eyes locked on the knives on the floor and he was at least glad that he'd killed the momentum of most of them. His hand touched a protrusion from his gut and Jeremiah Guthrie realized he had to look down. A small hilt of a vegetable knife stuck out of his stomach. He could see the blood blossoming on his white shirt. "Well, fuck. How bad is it?"

"Uh... I'm not an AI. You can't just yell damage report and hope I'll run a diagnostic. I can only monitor your brain because I live there." Gideon looked concerned even though he was waving his tropical drink around. "You've been stabbed a bunch of times and are in shock. What do you want from me? Get to a hospital."

"That's just fuckin' ducky." Guthrie stayed on one knee debating his next move. Lying down and closing his eyes seemed like the best option honestly. But a nap would have to wait.

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ZORA N. WILLIAMS
 Posted: Mar 18 2018, 03:09 AM
Quote

LADY HAVOC

WISHMASTER twenty-seven SHE/HER 31 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© MAGS · SHE/HER · Offline


Zora hissed at the spirit of vengeance. She did not take well to those who spoke ill of her beloved Lord Chaos or his way. The Ghost Rider should have been far more grateful for her actions than what it was. Without her it would have very likely been lost to time itself. It was almost a shame the ancient being was seemingly incapable of seeing a larger, far more glorious, picture.

It was not until after she had thrown the cloud of knives that she noticed the hole in the bar that mutant had caused by tossing energy at the Spirit. She clicked her tongue at the spirit who now stood just within the room. "It is not witch, Spirit." Zora took casual steps towards the man whom she had thrown knives at, only moments earlier for his disrespect towards the Ghost Rider.

"I am Lady Havoc, the earthly emissary of the great Lord Chaos! You will learn my name, as you will come to know my power." Despite the Ghost Rider's refusal to acknowledge her greatness and that of the one true God, she did not regret striking the bearded man with her own wall of knives. She felt the man very much deserved it and the closer she drew to the man on the floor the more she could see the blood. His pitiful attempt to shield from her might had been utterly ineffective.

"Should this one survive, he will have learned of our power and considerable mercy." Looking him over she nodded at her work, appeased though the damage was minimal. Zora kissed the air in the bloody man's direction and turn her attentions back to the spirit. "I have no idea why you are so put off by my actions, I'm not the one who wished for you. If you have a problem, you should be taking it up with your vessel."
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