196Likes
125Posts
My world was conquered...I'll not let that happen to this planet too.
Star / Kory
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Post by Koriand'r on Jul 14, 2018 16:33:33 GMT -5
Current List (*icon and template made / bolded = sample complete)Zazzala/Queen Bee Barbara Minerva/Cheetah *Crush * Linda Friitawa/Fright Grace Balin/Orca * Tristessa Delicias/Scorpiana Victoria Vale Jaina Hudson/White Rabbit Caitlyn Snow/Killer Frost * Atlee/Terra*
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196Likes
125Posts
My world was conquered...I'll not let that happen to this planet too.
Star / Kory
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Post by Koriand'r on Jul 14, 2018 16:54:47 GMT -5
cheetah barbara minerva/cheetah She looked up with a twisted sense of wonderment at the ancient temple that rose above her, her maw pulling back into a wicked grin: that of a huntress having cornered her prey. Ignoring the group of men around her, who seemed far less bothered about the discovery than their feline companion, she approached the closest wall slowly, her hips swaying with a naturally lithe grace. Upon reaching it, she lifted her clawed hands to stroke over the carvings etched into the age-worn stone. Her razor-edged fingers, already stained red, left a crimson smear in their wake, and she licked her lips as she scanned the heiroglyphics that confirmed she had found what she'd been looking for.
The Temple of Ah Puch.
It was thought to be a myth – an incorrect translation from one of the long studied Mayan Codices. There were no temples to the God of Death, and he was rarely worshipped ritually: only to beg for the souls of passing family and friends. The glyphs, too damaged to properly understand, were just being misinterpreted: that is what the experts had said.
But Barbara Minerva – the Cheetah and former archeologist – did not agree. Having stolen the codex from the museum in which it had been hidden away from prying eyes, she had poured over the decaying manuscript. After months of study, she had deciphered what she believed was the codex's true message: that, following a pathway of celestial bodies, one would uncover a hidden wonder – a vault in which a forgotten Mayan tribe had hidden everything they felt was a threat to their world. Accessible only by their most trusted priests, the temple was said to be a gateway to Xiabalba, the realm over which Ah Puch presided – a perfect place to store unwanted relics of incredible power.
No-one in recorded history had seen the place of worship – but Barbara fully intended to change that.
Almost a year of careful planning had seen her research ancient astronomy and astrology, capture and interrogate specialists in the field, until finally, she was armed with all the knowledge she needed to begin her journey into the past. Hiring a small band of mercenaries and forcibly coercing a renowned explorer into her employ, Minerva set forth.
An alignment of stars shown in the Mayan calendar led their way – a celestial hook that looked as if it sunk into the earth when viewed from mountainous regions. The jungles of Guatemala awaited, and an old ruin built around a yawning cave entrance seemed to be their eventual destination. Beyond said cave, an underground lake; which in turn was revealed to be a subterranean river – a path to the hidden Temple of Ah Puch.
It had not been an easy find; far from it, but upon setting her eyes upon it - a stepped shrine that bore skeletal iconography – Minerva knew she had made the discovery of the century.
“We've set up a perimeter about the site; got the terrestrial scanners working. No way in as far as we can tell - it's completely sealed off.” The gruff voice that interrupted Barbara's reverie made the feline's rounded ears twitch with annoyance, and giving the heiroglyphics one last stroke with her paw-padded fingertips, she looked over at the mercenary band's commander – a thick-set, bearded male in his mid-fourties.
“There isn't an obvious entrance, granted. But there is an entrance.” The mercenary didn't look at all convinced. “We had a real good look. It's all solid rock, Cheetah. Unless those little pictures are telling you something different, there ain't a way in.” Clicking her thick, black tongue against her pointed canines, Barbara rolled her eyes. “These glyphs happen to suggest a hidden door, opened via ritual.” The man scoffed. “Yeah? And what ritual is that? Far as I'm aware, you aren't a Mayan priest, and none of my crew are either.”
The anthropomorphic feline grinned knowingly. “It's a temple consctructed to house an entrance to Xiabalba – the Mayan underworld. If that isn't clue enough, all Mesoamerican civilizations were obsessed with one ritual above all else: sacrifice.” She let the word hang heavy in the air for a moment, letting it sink in. The mercenary simply shrugged. “Shame that explorer tried stabbing you in the back and running...could have slit his throat here instead of all the way back at the cave mouth. Hopefully there's some blood left in him.”
Cheetah simply shook her head. “No, no. One death isn't anywhere near enough...” The hired gun froze – his calm, non-chalant demeanour suddenly replaced by an air of edginess – finally catching the villainess' meaning. She smirked, almost able to taste the fear that radiated from him. “Did you really think I hired you for protection?”
Fast as the former soldier was, Barbara was far faster. He'd barely started to lift his rifle when razor-sharp claws were raked across his throat, tearing through vocal chords and sinew – silencing any shouted warning he might have offered his team. A spatter of blood splashed across the carved skulls in the pyramid's walls, seeming to seep into the cracks that ran between them.
Falling to his knees, the man clutched at his neck desperately- but to no avial. He couldn't stem the tide, not with a wound so grievous. Crouching infront of him, Minerva smiled and ran a talon across his cheek. “As you can see, I'm more than capable of protecting myself.” With that, she hurled herself over him in a single bound, and she let out a feline snarl – full of malice – as she sprinted toward her next target: the unsuspecting gunmen who'd accompanied her.
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196Likes
125Posts
My world was conquered...I'll not let that happen to this planet too.
Star / Kory
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Post by Koriand'r on Jul 14, 2018 17:16:12 GMT -5
crush lobo's daughter ALL OF THE POST GOES HERE
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196Likes
125Posts
My world was conquered...I'll not let that happen to this planet too.
Star / Kory
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Post by Koriand'r on Jul 15, 2018 14:46:06 GMT -5
orca grace balin/orca ALL OF THE POST GOES HERE
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196Likes
125Posts
My world was conquered...I'll not let that happen to this planet too.
Star / Kory
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Post by Koriand'r on May 19, 2020 11:15:31 GMT -5
Terra atlee/terra ALL OF THE POST GOES HERE
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196Likes
125Posts
My world was conquered...I'll not let that happen to this planet too.
Star / Kory
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Post by Koriand'r on Aug 31, 2020 18:20:13 GMT -5
Black Bat cassandra cain She stepped over one of the fallen figures that littered the warehouse floor, her boots creaking quietly, though the sound was almost a cacophany in the silence left in her wake. Two long strides were taken toward a sprawled out male ahead of her, easily distinguishable from a dozen others thanks to his attire - the blue uniform of the GCPD. Upon reaching him, she dropped into a neat crouch, and placed two fingers just beneath his chin, searching for his corotid artery – hopefully pulsating with signs of life. Even through the thick material of her gloves, she could feel the strong and rhythmic beating, and moments later, noted the deep rise and fall of his chest.
She let out a soft breath of relief.
Cassandra knew the other twelve were alive – even if they showed few obvious signs. A lifetime of martial training had taught her how and where to strike her enemies, and experience had feathered her blows, instilled in her a measure of restraint. The men on the ground were hurt, most certainly, and it would take days – perhaps weeks – to fully recover from the injuries she'd inflicted upon them. But they were alive: every punch, kick and throw had been intended to immobilise, and her intent had been flawlessly executed.
Killing was not Cassandra Cain's way.
But the patrol officer lying prone at her feet – he had not been one of her casualties. He had burst into the warehouse on hearing the undeniable raucous of a street fight; a brave interloper. The moment the embattled criminals had set eyes upon him, he had become their lifeline and soul focus. Those that were able turned their attention away from the Bat in their midsts; a lethal shadow they couldn't touch, and hoped to become predators rather than prey, to take the officer hostage, perhaps the only way to fend off their invisible assailant.
The Black Bat had given chase to those still able to run, and only one had come close to reaching the GCPD recruit. In sheer desperation, the thug had thrown the crowbar he held – striking the officer across the forehead. He had instantly crumpled, the criminal mimicking him moments later, the Bat's vengance being exacted swiftly – a forceful, opened palm shove to the mid-back twinned with a simple leg hook. The clown-masked smuggler had hit the ground with force and not moved since.
The shifting of the officer's shoulders - coupled with a slight groan - caused Cassandra to remove her fingers from where they rested, the vigilante instantly rising to her feet. The young man's blue eyes flickered open, and taking a moment to adjust the the dusk's half-light, finally came to rest upon the dark figure that towered above him. Letting out a gasp, he shuffled backward on his elbows – putting distance between himself and his saviour.
He only halted when his brain – no doubt slowed by his head injury – noted that the Bat had not given chase. A few seconds more, and he recalled where he was: Gotham, a city protected by more than just the police force. Recognition of her cowl followed soon after, and understanding finally dawned. “Batman?” he whispered, former terror turning to awe.
“No,” was all she replied, turning on her heel and heading toward the warehouse's site office. She had never been one for words. “Thank you!” he shouted after her, though she didn't stop or turn. Silence was her response.
Black Bat had returned to Gotham with work to do, and she had little time for pleasantries.
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196Likes
125Posts
My world was conquered...I'll not let that happen to this planet too.
Star / Kory
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Post by Koriand'r on Feb 25, 2021 15:07:49 GMT -5
Supergirl kara zor-el She stepped toward the stylish, chairless desk that jutted from the room’s furthest wall, and her gaze was firmly affixed on the trio of large screens mounted above. Each screen was segmented into what looked to be hundreds of smaller displays, minimised video feeds that occasionally flickered and changed, one digital scene wavering for little more than a millisecond before another took its place. Their glow was the only light in the otherwise darkened room, apart from the ambient light of Gotham’s twilight cityscape – distant streetlamps and neon signs winking like far-off, electronic stars in the city’s blackness.
Even with Kara’s enhanced perception, the sheer number of feeds was overwhelming. Though she tried to follow the slight changes between each display, watching carefully for visual cues, hoping to spot some sort of pattern to the screens’ minor-yet-constant blinking as their virtual imagery shifted and re-focused, the attempt made her feel vaguely dizzy. The Kryptonian could see the surface of the Earth from space, focusing on an individual spot while travelling faster than the speed of sound – but it was the wall of monitors that caused her to gaze to falter; forced her eyes to water until she closed them.
Not for the first time in Supergirl’s life, she concluded that Barbara Gordon, the Oracle, must have been a meta-human. She could think of few other beings in the galaxy that could survey and assimilate so much information so flawlessly – hourly, no less. After only a few minutes in Gordon’s office, nestled in the penthouses of Kord Towers, Kara felt the early warnings of an impending migraine. She struggled to see how anyone could spend entire days scrutinizing the displays, taking in the sheer breadth of their focus, noting every tiny detail, spotting every moment of interest, before committing it to an eidetic memory.
Simply imagining it made her dizziness worse.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her head a little, blonde locks falling in front of her face. Taking a few deep, calming breaths, she rested them for a good few moments before a sudden sound caught her attention – the hissing of an automated door opening directly behind her. Having been concentrating so thoroughly on the Oracle’s display, she had neglected her other senses, her ears tuning into little more than the computer screen’s soft humming. Turning toward the noise, she blinked and found herself looking at Barbara Gordon– the meta-human community’s leading informant.
With her red hair looking a little tousled, and her eyes sunken and lidded, Kara quickly deduced her old friend had been sleeping when she’d received Supergirl’s unexpected summons. The overpowering smell of coffee – something which she most certainly didn’t need a super olfactory system to note – further confirmed her suspicions. Offering a slightly sheepish grin, Kara rocked on her balls of her booted feet, fingers playing with the hem if her blue uniform.
The Kryptonian had met only a handful of people whose unimpressed gazes could make her feel uncomfortable, and she was certain Barbara Gordon’s was chief amongst them. “Hey…” she offered, raising a hand and waving awkwardly. “Sorry I woke you up…” The apology didn’t make Kara feel much better, but she hoped it would soften the Oracle’s stare. “I was early, so I let myself in…I think?” It was on speaking that it dawned on Kara, it was far more likely that the Oracle had allowed her into the building, onto the upper floors, and then into her personal, private office. Nothing went on throughout the entirety of Gotham without the former Batgirl knowing about it – let alone in her own roost.
Kara’s sheepish smile only became more so, and she absently scratched the back of her neck. She decided, there and then, that she would never disturb the red head’s sleep again – no matter how much danger the Earth was in. She wasn’t sure that anything was worth facing off against a tired Barbara Gordon.
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196Likes
125Posts
My world was conquered...I'll not let that happen to this planet too.
Star / Kory
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Post by Koriand'r on May 10, 2021 13:42:35 GMT -5
killer frost caitlyn snow/killer frost A cold mist clung to the warehouse, its chill so fierce that it had hazed windows and sealed doors. Layers of thick frost wreathed metallic shipping crates, while long, wickedly spiked shards of ice hung from walkways and buzzing rail lights. Beyond their incessant hum, the building was silent, as if sound itself had been numbed by the glacial temperatures. So too was it still, the usual hustle and bustle of the everyday stifled by the bitter calm that accompanied the deepest of winters.
Only she moved, shifting slowly between the bodies, pressing her fingers to their exposed skin, clinging to their limbs with desperate fervour. With each touch, what little colour remained in their cheeks drained, leaving them pale and drawn, and only a few frozen vestiges of their former lives remained. Releasing a young woman’s forearm, a scientist no older than she would have been, Caitlyn moved at last to the largest amongst the frostbitten; one who had fallen to the ground and struggled as the cold had set in. Kneeling at his side, she carefully pressed her fingertips to his forehead, relishing what little warmth still bled from his body into hers.
She had not wanted to kill any of them.
She had needed to.
Caitlyn Snow had hoped, so very desperately, that the research team could have helped her find a cure for her numbing affliction, that their studies into thermodynamics could have melted the ice that ran through her veins. But they hadn’t been able to ease the suffering she endured; they knew of nothing that could make her feel warm again. Their life was forfeit, for she drank their body heat as a leech might blood - nothing else could sustain her. Without human warmth, Snow felt the wintry chill of her condition encroaching upon her, and both her body and psyche felt ever less her own.
With each passing day, Caitlyn’s heart became only blacker frost, suppressing her emotions until all she felt was bitter and cold.
A soft exhalation left her lips as the skin beneath hers was finally covered in a thin layer of ice, and she withdrew. For a brief moment, she looked down at the frozen field leader and momentary regret flooded her. If she could have, she might have shed a tear. But that humanity was fleeting – a brief crack in her permafrost façade. She could not let herself feel remorse. Caitlyn had not chosen this life, but it had been forced upon her. Just like a cornered animal could not be blamed for lashing out at its captor, so too could she not be blamed for lashing out at the world. No-one but her could know the torture endless cold wrought, nor the strength it sapped.
There was no alternative, no other choice, for Caitlyn Snow knew the only thing colder than her condition was death, and she was cold enough.
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