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Many of their lives are marked by loneliness (solidão da Mulher Negra) because they aren’t chosen—the chosen women being white women. In Brazil, black and mixed-race women have been traditionally oversexualized or looked upon as domestic servants, while white women are viewed as the perfect women to give affection to and to have a healthy ... Dating site - tracycd2 - 31/05/2013 10:59; jwnUDskgiFBxbfnolY - seo service - 29/05/2013 11:01. xtuRZRNNmVLtQO - high pr ... foto sexo coroa gratis , mulher negra foto sexo gratis brasileiras , foto filme sexo gratis , foto sexo gratis brasil , filme foto sexo gratis , foto amadoras sexo gratis , foto gratis sexo oral , foto galeria gratis sexo ... Empoderamento da mulher negra está muito relacionado à transição capilar. Foto: Instagram/@juliaaareis / Estadão 'Minha transição capilar durou três anos. Our dating website has thousands of members seeking love - dates - friends and relationships. cloud romance is the most popular east africa dating site - and fast growing online personals site. ... amo a mulher negra pode enviar mensagem marcelo-moraca hotmail com. 42 Years. Encontros e paquera Portugal. Português mulheres. Warning! DON'T ever send money to someone you meet online! If someone asks you for money, please report the user by using our Report Abuse feature or contact us. 8/mar/2019 - Bruce encontrou este Pin. Encontre (e salve!) seus próprios Pins no Pinterest. Sendo um site dedicado ao conteúdo Afro. Nós decidimos compilar uma lista de 10 sites de namoro para solteiros negros. Nós testamos esses sites e podemos dizer que há vários homens e mulheres solteiros negros do Brasil tanto quanto negros estrangeiros dos Estados Unidos, Europa e África. Baixe estas Foto grátis sobre Alegre mulher negra ler sms linda do namorado, e descubra mais de 6 Milhão de fotos de arquivo profissionais no Freepik When Plenty of Fish first hit the scene, online dating was a strange new world for those searching for that special someone. Since then, we've learned to 'like', 'follow', and slide our way into someone's DMs. Now that meeting on a dating app is the new normal, we're still finding ways for people to go on dates and make deeper connections. Taxista em serra negra-sp, São Paulo. Sou uma pessoa honesta e simcera, trabalho em serra negra como taxista. para Não curto mulher apenas homens 19)--- meu zap é só me chamar. Search: Eu procuro por homens discretos e que curta um bom - o.
expectativas irreais e sentimento de opressão
2020.08.29 05:54 metsaemaexpectativas irreais e sentimento de opressão
Eu sou muito ruim para títulos, vocês me desculpem. Esses dias eu vi no twitter uma conversa sobre como meninas negras não sabiam o que era receber flores/presentes na escola e serem convidadas para jantadates. Daí tinham várias garotas concordando, meio que como tiveram uma parte da adolescência negada por não serem "padrão", solidão da mulher negra e zzz. Mas uma coisa que passou pela minha cabeça é que... eu sou branca e nunca passei por isso também? E, sinceramente, eu não conheço muita gente que tenha tido esse tipo de experiência. De cabeça, eu só consigo me lembrar de uma pessoa que recebia presentes na escola e era a minha irmã – os presentes eram de um menino gay que nutria uma obsessão meio bizarra por ela, hehe. E assim, eu não culpo ninguém de sentir falta ou idealizar esse tipo de coisa. A gente vê esses filmes americanos com adolescentes combinando dates, sendo convidados por bailes e tudo isso parece muito legal... mas não é parte da nossa cultura. E mesmo para as demonstrações de afeto que são parte da nossa cultura, em geral, é uma parte muito pequena que é contemplada por isso de maneira mais "performática". Só que eu acho que a nossa cultura (entretenimento, mídias sociais) gera uma falsa noção de como isso é comum, e as pessoas não tem perspectiva suficiente para entenderem a escala disso e se sentem oprimidas por não terem uma coisa que é muito mais normal não ter do que o contrário, e que não faz tanta diferença assim ter. O que me incomoda é como isso podia se encerar como frustração adolescente mas acaba alçando escalas muito maiores quando as pessoas decidem politizar esse tipo de ressentimento, como no caso citado das pessoas confundirem racismo com o fato delas não terem realizado o sonho de serem, sei lá, a Regina George. Tem outros exemplos desse tipo de politização do ressentimento – Incels, por exemplo. Eles enxergam todo um sistema de privilégios a partir de uma visão muito simplistas por serem negados algum tipo de afeto. Agora mesmo nesse sub tinha um comentário sobre ser "magra, ruiva e branca" ser suficiente para ser milionária. Pode ser que várias pessoas consigam ganhar muito dinheiro em cima desse tipo de características, a questão é que, quando a gente coloca isso em perspectiva, a quantidade de gente com essas mesmas características que não lucraram nada por isso é muito, muito maior. Enfim, tem um monte de exemplos... eu tenho uma teoria que o acesso a mais informações atrapalhou a maneira que a gente processa a realidade porque a gente não consegue mensurar a escala de maneira correta, isso cria esse tipo de distorção de achar que consegue conhecer alguém por post em rede social, ou achar que a vida da maioria das pessoas vai se parecer com o que a gente consome em cultura pop, e esse tipo de idealizações. Tipo, toda pessoa bem sucedida que eu vejo é branca, logo, toda pessoa branca é bem sucedida, enquanto isso não corresponde a realidade.
Previously… “Alright, let’s go!” Geoff shouted, to himself and to all the Souls around him. “You guys had better not waste this chance!” With a burst of recommitted energy and a triumphant laugh, Geoff rocketed himself out through the Gates of Tomorrow. As Geoff flew through the gates, the Artifact Soul appeared once again. “Geoff Wetton! As you pass through the gates, envision the world you wish to see on the other side! I will make it be!**” Anything I want. Is this… Truly for the best? Momentarily, Geoff Wetton wondered, before shutting his eyes. No… No matter the cost, I’m going to undo the harm of these artifacts. In this new world… I see it now. Everyone who lost their life to this senseless war will return… They will know that this is their second chance at life, without those damn Patches. Yes… So it will be… “Rest now, Geoff Wetton. Wake in the reality of your desire…” The Artifact Soul’s deep voice laughed, slightly, as it began to crumble away into the bright light. “Ｕｒｒｒｒｙｙｙｙｙ…” All was silent for a moment, and Geoff felt cold. Heat of the Moment took care of it before long, but… Did it work..? “Geoff, is that you? Oh my god, what’s going on?” Geoff heard footsteps as his eyes adjusted to the changes in light. That voice… Is that… The undeniable rainbow-headed visage of Eleanor Rigby stood above him, offering him some ambiguous pills and a hand up. “I just saw you collapsed there, and…” The woman blinked, backing up and looking away after the hand was accepted. “Wait, why are you naked?” In a celebrity’s mansion… “Nineteen-thirty-one, two, three, four, five… Urgh.” “What’re you so frustrated about, Seido?” Stu Steel E, ever the straight man, asked the ex-deceased sniper, the pair sitting around in John Travolta’s bathrobes simply because they could. “I had such a poetic death…” Seido Shuto shook his head, looking at the single extra mark on his weapon, and then at a recording on the screen of a certain monster in a go-kart. He cracked a grin. “I’m going to have to make up for it somewhere… Yes, I think I’m going to find a truly perfect final life to take. Perhaps a rematch is in order…” Jim Ledbetter sat at a nearby couch, holding his coveted Shelly, close. “Everyone’s leaving the nest so soon, huh..? First Bremen, now he’s already planning his out… Soon it’s just gonna be you and me again, Shelly.” “Pff, as if,” Judas Saxon butted in, drinking milk right out of the gallon bottle and walking over, leaving the fridge open. “Complete or no, the best team to ever join forces is back together. Let’s be a team from now on, yeah?.” He turned over towards the second of the team’s founding snipers. “If you’re not picky about your ideal final kill, I know a circus that’s probably running again…” “So…” Fabian Gibson, absent middle initial, poured himself a glass of water, spilling it all over himself after it barely touched his lips and sprawling out over a kitchen counter. “More business as usual? Even if we don’t get what we all wanted?” Qiao Xi Zhou, walking punchline of the group, while watching his longtime client continue making an ass of himself, groaned. “Of course not! There’s way too much work to just rest now! Libs to own!” “Do you even know what that means?!” Henry Muller, here because he had nowhere else to go, asked snappily. Jim rolled his eyes, turning away from his beloved and looking around. “Guess our honeymoon’s awhile away yet, Shelly… Not that I really mind these idiots.” Flori Dada had lost everything. His mansion was a shadow of its former self, run by the rabble he once ruled, and his reputation was even worse off. The Hall had fallen, Elliot wasn’t returning his calls.... “Gyuhuhuhu…” Straightening out his suit and carrying his few belongings in a bindle, he set forth down the road, a grin on his face and spring in his step. “Guess I’m just gonna have to build it back up again!” Racking his brain, Flori could recall an haphazard-looking billboard that caught his eye. Something about a travelling circus, with amazing beasts… “... and I think I just found my first investment opportunity! Gyuhuhuhuu~~!” A man in his fifties, sitting aboard the MF WHALE, couldn’t help but stroke his skin, looking down at the table he was sitting at. “Something feels… different,” he said, looking up at the group. “Guys, does anyone else feel… Really worn out, all of a sudden? I swear I almost feel dead.” The terminal of MAKS_13 turned to face the fellow in magician’s garb, still sitting around in one of the many multi-purpose bodies its most frequent partner fixed up.
Clarence ran a hand through his graying hair as the other humans onboard the mobile fortress laughed. “Guys, I don’t get it. What’s so funny?” “Eh, just some Millennial humor,” Roger Waters quipped, “you wouldn’t get it.” Don Blackwell nodded. “Don’t worry about it. I think we’re all just happy to be back in one piece…” “Agreed,” Dr. Jekyll added, calming himself down, “and hey, the crab didn’t even come back, so that’s one less chance of this ship getting wrecked again.” “I dunno,” Manny Elflad thought aloud, “I mean… Hell, I remember all of Soul Train, until the crash. It was a pretty bumpin’ party.” “Arr, but what’s a Dead Man’s Party to the Bikini Bottom bein’ back at the top o’ our game?” Johnny Leever, hands on his waist, announced proudly in response. “Now that we’re all back together, we c’n make the world we want! All o’ us!” “Oh hell yeah,” Manny agreed, “last chance I had, Lilah cut me off before I could even do anything fun. Now, me and all the best boys are back in town! Well… Minus one. Say, cap, you mind if we add one more to our crew, now that crabbo’s gone?” In the Amazon… “Mankind is a pox,” proclaimed Kamelot, atop Tiny Dancer, to a colony of creatures. Stand and Horse stood atop a spire. “They cannot even rule over each other, inflicting war, bigotry, and genocide upon one another! And despite this, they proclaim their dominance over all other beasts,” he scoffed. “Driven many, such as the humble dodo, to extinction, and even now in their greedy pursuits, they kill us, destroy our homes.” His sword glistened. “So what do we do? We wander the earth, offering the other beasts the one thing they desire… Liberation!” His simple, but staunchly proclaimed words resulted in a mad cacophony from the animals. Barks, Roars, Shrieks, Chirps and Song. An entire Earth of diversity sang out in response to the Knight’s rally. In particular, many of the creatures in the crowd appeared… Not fully natural, the bizarre combinations of bizarre combinations of creatures, liberated by Tiny. Sun King, piloted by none other than the fearsome chicken Bremen, awed the crowd with a laser display up in the sky, dancing around to the coordinated cheers of the clan of assorted primates collectively known as the Monkees. While traveling on his own, Tiny Dancer had discovered and been inspired by this band of assorted apes, living and operating as one, and truly saw fit to lead the world to follow their example. As Tiny Dancer spoke, clean, pristine water began spinning around the area towards every beast present, finely controlled by the movements of Furo Raida and Right Round. “So let us drink together, enlightened comrades, and restore the balance of the world!” The glorious Pot Hocket, which despite everything persists, stood proudly at the shoreline of some quiet coast. Felix Arrowsmith proudly released the wheel, taking a deep breath of fresh air as most his teammates left the ship he’d gathered them on. “Guess dead dudes do tell tales…” He remarked self-satisfiedly, more than happy that his lonesome, fateful voyage had become more colorful. Jaco Pastorius was tuning his bass as he stepped off the boat’s ramp. “So, band’s back together, huh..?” He said to his teammates, bumping the shoulder of the group’s informal leader. “Can’t say I’m surprised all it took was you coming back, Jack. How was the afterlife for ya, man?” Simon ‘Jack’ Rogers reached to pull a tuning fork out from his coat, shaking his head. For some reason, it’s felt somehow heavier lately. “Man, I don’t remember that stuff. Besides, it’d distract me from living again, yeah?” “I don’t even wanna think about that anymore!” Proclaimed B.G. Santos, wrapping his arms tight around his previously fallen friend, his eyes billowing with tears of both joy and sorrow. “I’m just glad you’re back, Tio!” “Hey, c’mon, like you said. No need for that, I’m back in one piece.” Jack reassured B.G., patting the larger man’s back before making some room to tug on his hefty piece of clothing. “Even got the coat back.” Tyler Bonnie was waiting on the shore with Lance, smiling much more wide and bright than usual despite his companion’s dire expression. “It’s really nice, right? Us all together like old times… we’ve even got a nice boat.” The violinist by his side did give the boat a quick up-and-down, but ultimately stepped away from the pale man, hanging his head low as he addresses the rest of the group. “... I don’t think I’ll be staying with you all.” Lance admitted, clutching a bag with various rigid shapes poking at every edge within. “I’ve found myself at odds with my nature, and this second chance hasn’t erased my decisions.” Thinking of the shattered pieces of his Grandfather’s violin, whose shards he hadn’t been able to leave behind despite his resolution, and attempting to end an innocent man’s life for nothing… Silence filled the air as the former violinist stepped away from the Good Vibrations, the air oppressive until an unexpected voice cut through the tense atmosphere. “... Bummer.” The oft-silent Michael Mclane said flatly. After a brief moment of disbelief, the rest of his teammates burst out into laughter and wide smiles. Mclane himself was confused, scratching his head in frustration. With a chuckle himself, Felix finished descending the ramp. Looking up at his impressive vessel once more, he smiled warmly before piecing something together. There was a single one of his teammates that hadn’t come off the boat, and now there was a figure standing at the helm. Rubbing his eyes just in case, he shouted up at the man in his place. “What’re you doing, man!? That’s my ship!” “This is my ship now, dude!” proclaimed Crowbar Jackson, gripping the boat’s wheel. “I found it, an’–” He gritted his teeth, giving himself a moment of pause before gesticulating wildly at his former teammates. . “Y’know what? I don’t have t’ explain shit to you!” He slung a pickaxe over his shoulder, his free hand turning the ship out onto the open waters to pursue a signal far away and below. “I got bigger fish to fry!” In a small clearing in the German countryside, a man in ragged clothes was laying down. He had a smile on his face as he stared up at the stars above him. “69… 70… 71… Ha ha ha…!” His laugh was loud and harrowing. “I’ve never been able to count this many before… Hm hm hm… Ha ha ha! AH HA HA!” Greywolf’s back arched up as his mad laughter echoed through the treeline surrounding him. “Life…! It is truly wonderful…! Ha ha ha…! There is wonder in this world! Such joy to be had…. Ha ha…. Ha ha ha… What was I thinking…? Living life for someone else… Their joy? What stupidity!” The man stretched out, his back making a loud cracking sound as he rested again. “A world so full of wonder and joy… Such good food… Such warm sunshine… There is no need to share it with anyone else…! Heh heh heh….” His laughter slowed down as he stared at the sky, though the smile on his face still did not fade. “... 72… 73… 74…” The full moon hung high up in the sky. “Those in this new world have been given another chance,” a bellowing, yet oddly soothing voice whispered into Jaded Justice’s ears in the SPW facility. When all looked around, their eyes fixed on decrepit old Tsao Xu. “But I have lived a life too long anyway. It is… Nice, to see you all once more, my friends but yet again, I must rest. Fare you all well… This world has great dangers in its future.” With those words, pushed away by his own Stand and seeming to fade into little more than grains of sand in the wind once he disappeared outside, the old man disappeared once more, little remaining where he once sat bar eight grains. Nobody knew how to break the silence. Those of Jaded Justice who had fallen, as well as that old partner of Blue Monday’s, who’d come to speak to him about what happened, knew that they shouldn’t, really, be alive again, but to see one of them depart the world again so soon after returning to life. “Too bad things ended up going a-rye!” Henry Walshman declared suddenly with a grin, earning the collective groans and eye-rolls of his entire team. The only ones almost as amused as him at the line were Yoko Takizawa and Grace Vincent, both exchanging grins. “A pun like that makes me honestly wish we had died at that volcano,” Miras Atrium said, despite stifling a smirk himself. He hadn’t known this lot long, honestly, but they were alright. “I studied so much English just to end up having to understand that,” Akiyoshi Yamamoto said with a sigh and tip of his hat downward. “Glad to see ya again, Henry.” “Wait, so… We all lost, but then whoever won brought us back in the end?” Jules Langlais’ eyes went wide in thought and realization. “Then…” “Then we should find him and buy him a really big boat as thanks!” Grace Vincent declared, pumping her fists. For once, having someone caring about his references, Jules could laugh along with her. “I’m sure the winner would love that!” Russ Teneo smiled along at the banter of the more comical half of his team, but when he saw Yoko and Blue Monday stepping outside, followed them with a more serious look. “What’s goin’ on, boss?” “Hate to rain on all their parades,” Blue Monday admitted, “but we kinda failed completely. I found out about the Gates died for it, Yoko got killed looking into it, and in the end… Well, the world’s been completely changed. That guy got what he wanted. This whole thing may be one of the foundation’s biggest failures.” “I mean… Yeah,” Yoko said, not mincing words, “but is it really so bad? Best of the ways this coulda ended, considering everyone who wanted it… The Hall of Heads didn’t win, Senator guy didn’t win, things are just… back.” “And now we know everyone to watch out for!” Russ added, bringing one hand to one fist. “So what do ya say the lot of us start finding all those problem people again? It’ll be a real grand tour!” “Y’know…” Blue nodded. “You’re right. With all you and Yoko, we’re not gonna make a mistake like that again. As long as there’s evil stand users for the foundation to throw us at, we’re gonna do our damn jobs!” Lilah had planned to collect the artifacts herself to bring her world back, or die trying. Now those artifacts were gone, and she was still alive. In the end, all that she had worked for had been wiped away, and with the loss of her Overload she didn’t even have a memento to remember her past by. She had devoted her life to this hunt, without a backup plan. To suddenly be given a new lease on life even after all this… she wasn’t quite sure what to do at first. Maybe she’d take up her old job, gallivanting around the world to help people in need, a true hero of justice. There was news of some trouble brewing down in the Amazon, she could construct a team to go check that out and deal with it before it grew out of hand. Perhaps she’d even head towards The Grand Canyon to search for the dagger she had lost during this escapade. Even if she no longer had much of a use for it, it felt wrong just leaving it to collect dust in a ditch. First, though, there was something she felt she had to do. And that’s what led Lilah to Reunion, Florida, knocking on the door of the Kane residence. Opening the door was Mrs. Kane, with a few of her many dogs flooding out the door to greet this new person. “Yes, may I help you with something?” “yes, is your daughter home? I’d like to speak to her about something.” Lilah said. She was a bit surprised to see the woman so composed, given that she had been killed during the hunt. Perhaps non-stand users were unable to remember the events that transpired? Probably for the better, in that case. Mrs. Kane sighed, “Did she pull one of her pranks on you? I swear that girls has such an impish streak, always going out and causing trouble.” She turned her head back towards the house. “DOLLY! Come downstairs and apologize to this nice lady at the door!” As Dolly made her way into view, Lilah thought to herself. Actually, I think I’m one who needs to apologize. “Great to talk to you all again,” Henry Jenkins remarked, pouring coffee effortlessly for all of his teammates as they sat around their old station. His eyes hadn’t recovered, but he’d learned to live pretty much as well as he used to without them. Bas Haze, scratching at his head, looked around his team. “Bond and Gina are both here… but who’s gonna have Bad Name from now on?” Bad Name had been sitting between his previous two users, sort of shrugging and throwing up his arms. “I mean… Both of them seem to be able to see me still, but I dunno. I guess I just… decide?” Gina seemed uncertain, too. “It’s been nice, having a partner, but this old man could use the company… I’m fine with anything you choose, I think.” Bond looked around, “Not that I mind or anything, but Crispin seems to be missing too.” “Good,” said Dragomir, to a resounding nod from Gina, “Asshole gave us a bad name,” he glanced at the little stand and biggest hero of the lot, “..errr...gave bad rep to team. Would kick him out anyway, gun jumping bastard..” Bas bit his lip. He definitely wouldn’t miss the man, but still he was worried for him not to be here. A psycho like Crispin out of the team's collective supervision... The creature known as Monster was standing to the side enjoying their company as he stirred sugar packets into his little coffee cup and brought it to his lips. He’d improved on his motor skills a lot since dropping out, and though he still couldn’t speak, his memoirs had already become something of a bestseller since he re-entered public life. It was the only thing he could think to do to preserve what memories he still had. ‘Lazarus,’ as he was known, came without his clever disguise. In his time since, he’d learned that no one even knew who the hell Major Tom was anyway, so the disguise was basically moot. Others were calling him “robocop”, a name he felt absolutely delighted to have bestowed upon him. “So what do we do now?” he said, taking a sip of coffee. Mr Moon meowed, darting around everyone’s feet and scritching at Monster’s leg idly. He didn’t mind. “The same thing we did before,” said Blake Falstaff, “artifact hunt may be over, but there’s gonna be way more criminals back from the dead now, yeah? So I’m counting on all of you to help bust ‘em and then some!” “So they’re gone? The Artifacts have been… Lost, then?” Brooke Elliott spoke with concern to her husband. “I’ll have the Strangers look into it more closely, but… That certainly seems to be the case, yes.” Florida Senator Randall Elliott stood at the desk in his office, a dour expression on his face. “The power of the Little Patches of Heaven were used… Many people were revived, including myself. Even with my memories intact… and the Artifacts have disappeared. Perhaps it is to be expected…” Randall continued. “Were there any other changes…?” Brooke asked. “Ryder’s Stormbringers retained their memories as well… Although, in that second case, their modifications have reverted to before this hunt began properly. I’m having them investigate this… New World in more depth.” “... My contacts have been getting back to me as well.” Brooke said. “They don’t seem to remember. They dropped me after...“ Randall looked at his wife with strength in his eyes. “I see… We’re both back, but that likely means the ones who wish to kill me are back as well… I won’t be so foolish as to die a second time.. I won’t… Put you through that again, Brooke.” A few scattered tears fell from Brooke Elliott’s face, as she embraced her husband, who returned the gesture warmly. “I trust you have other plans, as well?” Brooke said. “With the Artifacts gone, I’m going back to the drawing board… I shall redouble my efforts to unlock the secrets of Flow 24.” The two of them smiled menacingly. “With that power…” She began. He continued, “There will be nothing in the world that can-” “Mommy! Daddy!” With nary a knock, Missy Elliott burst into the room, her Stand following close behind her. “Look at this! Look at this!” She held her phone out to her parents, a video playing on it already. It was the same game that she showed her parents all the time, pixelated graphics of a man building a house out of dirt. “...” Senator Elliot crouched down, watching the video from over his daughter’s shoulders. “... Oh, that’s one of the… Creatures… That’s the one that explodes, isn’t it?” He said, pointing to place on the screen. A wave of joy went over Missy’s face. “You remembered!” She said with massive glee, as the monster blew up, destroying the video producer’s hard work. This resulted in a pained noise from him, and uproarious laughter from Missy. Though Randall Elliott's teeth were clenched, and though Brooke Elliott was biting her tongue, it would be a lie to claim that the smiles on their faces were not legitimate. “You know,” Baron Mordechai said to the Chloe Clones, sitting across from them in a juvenile hall visiting room, as Oscar Del Goorin stood at their side, “it… Really would be a trifling matter to get you all out of here, you know. You’re wasting your potential in a place like this.” The Chloes, each clad in matching tiny suits and ties and shades, had the center’s warden top off the Baron’s champagne glass, one of them giving Oscar an expectant look. The girls themselves were all sipping juice with bendy straws out of similarly expensive glasses. The self-styled adventurer shook his head. “With all due respect, Baron Mordechai, the Chloes are still very young, and have only begun to realize their potential. Perhaps in time they will come out to join you once again, and I will continue to be your ally in the future, but their place is here for now.” Baron nodded, standing up. “I understand. I wish all of you the best, but the others are waiting for me.” With that and a few more farewells, Baron headed out to the armored limousine in which the other members of Cosmic Fire, for the most part, were waiting. “So they didn’t bite,” Ivan Abaduboi correctly guessed, “figures… Can we just get out of here? There’s no good hot dogs to sell out here.” “That’s what you’re worried about?” Mary Ann raised an eyebrow, incredulous at the priorities of the strange man she briefly called a teammate, “you’d think you’d be more worried about burning to death again out in Nowhere Arizona.” “I’m almost jealous of you two…” Stratovarius remarked, pulling off her gas mask, “but… I must say. When my life last ended, it was on a more selfless note than I had ever thought myself capable of. I feel more strongly about supporting our leader than I ever had before now, I think.” Kent Jerrod Moore simply nodded. “Lookin’ forward to what’s to come myself, with a lot like you. So, we ready to head back to the mansion?” “Er…” The longest-lasting of the group’s members, Mute, spoke up, twiddling her fingers around the full-sized skateboard she’d shrunken down. “Actually, I was thinking…” Baron sighed slightly at what Mute was saying, already having expected this for some time. “Yes?” “I mean… You know I’ll be there drop of a hat if you call, but… All this organized stuff really isn’t for me, yeah? I gotta live out on the world on my own, like I always have!” Lucil Caravan, having mostly been quiet, cracked a grin of her own. “Honestly, Mute… The more I think about it, the life you live doesn’t sound half fuckin’ bad. You wouldn’t mind someone else watching your ass on a journey like that, would ya?” “You… You mean that?” Mute covered her mouth. “I… I mean… Sure! You’re about the least likely person to ever slow me down, and maybe we could even spread some of the fire on the road!” Baron let out a good-natured laugh, confident in what the pair were saying. Even apart, they wouldn’t lose the spirit of the team. “Ready… Turn left!” On an island off the shores of Cuba, Tang Wu Zhou, codename Black August, directed a number of foot soldiers, who followed his command unhesitatingly. “And… Run! Run! Run!” The Soldiers began to sprint down the worn path, beginning their daily exercise regimen. Adrenaline Mob, real name Thomas Trilack, stayed a few feet away from Black August. “Actin’ more serious than usual, August. Almost thought you were a real leader for a hot second.” Mob said, grin on his face. “Yeah, well,” August began, facing his comrade. “Figured that I should probably stay serious for a little bit… At least until we figure this whole mess with the New World out.” “Tch… Don’t remind me.” Mob spat back. “Why did we have to lose our upgrades when we came back?” Tom stretched out. “I thought I had said goodbye to this clunky hunk of shit…” From out of the base, a whistling sound was heard, as Milja Nijinga, Mulher Magica Negra, strolled out of the building, a smile on her face as she sang a tune in her native tongue. “What’s got you so happy, Milja?” Mob spoke tersely. “I am giving thanks to the Spirits!” Magica replied with a smile. “For their protection over us!” “Ugh…” Mob said, exacerbated. “Are you still on about that ‘Spirit’ crap? New world, same Magica…” “But… How else would you explain it? Our souls have returned to our bodies! Do you have a different explanation? It is the will of the world!” She said with confidence. Mob grumbled to himself for a few moments. “Mmmmh… Guess you got a point there…” Mob looked away, but when he looked back, his partner’s expression was practically blinding. She almost had sparkles in her eyes. “Yes! You understand! Thomas, you finally see!” Trilack stumbled over himself. “H-hey! Get that look off of your face! I haven’t seen shit! I haven’t-” Both Mob’s aggressive denial and Magica’s happy hopping stopped as the whir of an electric wheelchair heralded DeadMan, Cody DeLago. He turned his head at his loud teammates, staring at them for a few tense seconds, before turning away and beginning to drive in the other direction. His microphone crackled a bit with sound, as he let off some of his precious few words.. “... Get a room.” For a few seconds, only the sound of Cody’s motors was audible. Soon, though, another sound was echoing through the area, as Tang Wu fell onto his back, and began howling with laughter. “Ha ha ha! Ah… Ha ha! I can’t breathe! Ha ha!” His voice was a sound of pure, uproarious joy, as he pointed at Trilack and continued to howl. Thomas’s face went red, partly from embarrassment, but mostly from rage. “Shut the hell up! It’s not that funny! Stop fucking laughing, Zhou!” As Zhou’s laughing and Tom’s yelling filled the air, Milja looked around confused. Cody rode away from them, with a contented smile on his face at the antics of his friends. Within the building, their superior officer, Ryder Wyland, sat at a nice desk alongside two men and two women, in both cases one middle-aged, one college-aged. Across from him, Crispin Freeman sat, pondering. “So… None of you were criminals to begin with, huh? You’re saying that?” “We were under the direct orders of Senator Elliot, yes,” Ryder explained, knowing well that it was a stretch of their definition. “Joe Armstrong, Anita Ferry, Scattle Perturbator, Lyanna de Replay, the four you saw on the way in… All of us desire similar things to you, you know.” Crispin, looking over the eyes of everyone else present, growled, stood up, and drew his gun, Red Sun appearing as Joe and Ryder called their stands. “Bullshit! I only humored you so I could have you scum in one place!” In London, Destiny Showdown was closing up shop in Mouth Moods for the first day since reopening. A young man, one of Mouth Moods’ precious employees, pointed out to him, “Destiny, sir. One customer isn’t leaving…” One look at the person sitting there - a young woman, brightly dressed, with a dark complexion, bow in her hair, and glasses - set off a lot of red flags for the man. Not letting a hint of this show through his face, the restaurateur told his waiter, “I’ve got her, don’t you worry. Get home safe, alright?” After ensuring his safe exit, Destiny turned to stare the woman down, analyzing her facial features, taking note of her rudely smearing a cigarette against the table. “You’ve a lot of nerve, whoever you are, intruding upon this place on its reopening day. Is your boss that impatient?” “Right to the point, ah?” The woman spoke, giving him a fanged grin and standing up, an outline of a stand appearing right behind. “Black Queen is perfect for killing in a confined area, you know… It’s why my friend chose me.” “Think I know who that is… But to be sure, I’ll get their name out of you, I think. And then, as the polite thing to do, I’ll mail you back to them.” A grin came over his face, momentarily, that actually sent a chill down her spine. “Tell me, Miss, how quickly would you like to make that?” Buffalo Soldier woke up with a jolt at a loud noise behind him. He was onboard the Astral Traveler, animal-head pulled over his head, to the sound of uproar and concern from a series of voices he never expected to hear again. “I am telling you all, something wicked has happened,” Thela Hun Ginjeet insisted to his onetime subordinates, speaking to them with a passionate tone that he hadn’t in months. “If so many of us here remember, and can even confirm, these deaths…” “I… Don’t really get it,” Soichi Utsumi admitted, adjusting his bowler hat, “but… someone else probably won the whole artifact hunt, right? And chose to have everyone who died brought back, or at least the lot of us…” “It was probably Geoff,” Amaki Castillo added, “he and Buffalo were the only people left on the moon, and… Buffalo’s damn good, but really, down to the two of them…” “Wait, wait, wait, the moon?!” Ken Nard jumped in place, doing a bit of a double-take. “What the hell did I miss while I was gone?” Rory Raccoon signed something which, roughly, everyone except Ken immediately understood was to say ‘shout-outs.’ Amaki adjusted her hat. “Yeah, it was… A whole thing. And Geoff’s the kinda guy who would want everyone back if he won, so…” Stephen ‘Steppy’ Morris shook his head. “Messin’ with an order that really shouldn’t be… But hell, I’m glad to see you all again, so the lord’s just gonna have to forgive me for that.” Otraz Ivanov looked into his crystal ball. “I don’t need any sort of psychic powers to foresee great things for this group, now that we’re together yet again… Rory and I have done much journeying and soul-searching together, but this truly is the place for us, in the end!” Through everyone else coming to see the best in their new chance at life, as a group, Thela’s mind was racing at a mile a minute, nonetheless. He stepped towards the front of the bus, towards Buffalo, and his stand appeared behind him for but a moment, whispering into the team’s original leader’s ear. “There is much more work for you to do, saoshyant…” “Yes…” Thela cracked a grin, taking much of his self-control to do only a fraction of the dramatic laugh he desired to express his feelings with. “Of course! The temptation of those vile artifacts has gone, and now, we can spread our message through this entire world! Everyone, if you feel bold enough to continue following my path… It would be a pleasure to change the world with you.” Soichi and Amaki exchanged uncertain glances and a few Japanese whispers, before Soichi pulled back and cleared his throat. With a friendly grin, the man the team had come to truly respect as its leader answered, “we would be happy to.” Honestly, Thela, you’re closer to madness than you ever were… But at the end of the day, this isn’t a bad group, and you’re really not a bad guy. Maybe all of us can keep you that way… Buffalo had overheard all of the words of his friends and, shooing Sweet Connelly off of his lap and over into a proper bus seat, cracked a smile of his own. Listening to all of that, honestly, he was sort of terrified that the team would immediately rip itself apart, but everyone was taking this chance seriously. Turning the keys to the bus, he sat upright, turned around, and addressed the other stand users. “Next stop, wherever the hell we want!” “… I both admire and revile the simplicity of that boy’s desires.” Lamented a horned figure, peering hatefully at a half-empty glass of liquor and ice. He muttered an “oh, well” under his breath before straightening his back to address his friend behind a freshly-cleaned bar. “Thank you for everything, again. We’ll be in touch.” With a handshake, and a smile, the man once called ＧＩＡＮＴＳ stepped out into the sunlight, protecting his eyes from its rays, before puffing out his chest and adjusting. Apollo Eighteen stood before a new yet familiar world, endless possibilities before him. He was confident it wouldn’t be long before he found a new method to obtain his true desire. With the experience of death itself behind him, it would soon be time for— His self-aggrandizing monologue was cut off by the distant shriek of a hapless woman. In an instant, four glowing eyes flashed behind the former Hall of Heads leader, and his face morphed into something unfamiliar. “I suppose that will have to wait, though…” Apollo remarked to himself, a wicked smile clear in his tone as he sprinted towards the source. Truth be told, he had felt quite liberated in the loss of his position. Dinner Bell’s expectant maw hung by his side with similar bliss, not to be stopped by anyone in the way of his master’s desires. There was a knock on a cabin door. T Square, wondering who it may be, went to answer it. Standing awkwardly at the door was Strawberry Roan, dressed as he ever was. He carried a satchel of supplies on his arm and a large frosted cake in his hands. “...” “...” “Uh… H-hey, T…” The two stood without speaking for a few seconds. “... Is that a cake?” T replied. “Uh… Y-yeah…” “... W-why…?” T said in a worried tone. “U-uh! It just, uh… I-it’s chocolate fudge. Th-the kind you got at yer… 12th birthday? You always said that… It was your favorite… And I figured” The awkward air of the conversation was almost palpable. Wordlessly, T took the cake and set it on the countertop, before returning to the doorway. “And the satchel… Do you have chicken feed in there…?” T asked. “Y-yeah! I figured, you know, Betsy would probably want some… I knew she always got antsy over other people tryin’ to feed her… So…” T took the satchel from Roan and held it in his hands. A few teardrops fell from his face. “T…?!” Roan said worriedly. “... You need…. You always said we’d do it later, but you… Need to teach me how to feed Betsy now… I was worried she was gonna starve while you were…. Were…!” Roan paused for a few moments, but then brought T in for a hug. Tears fell down their faces, onto each other’s shoulders. “Yeah… Yeah, ‘course, T...” They continued to let it all out for a little bit, not speaking but letting their hearts mend. Eventually, T pulled away slightly. With his eyes still red, he looked at Roan dead in the eyes. “I love you… dad.” Roan gulped a few times, taken almost aback, but he pulled himself together quickly. He nodded. “I love you too… Son.” T began to wipe the tears of his face with his collar. “Okay…” He said, his voice still shaky. “Now come over here and sit down.” T speed-walked over to his desk at their makeshift studio, untouched from when Roan had last seen it. “Right now…?” “Yeah. There’s a lot of people who need to hear us.” ”... Welcome back, folks! We were takin’ a bit of a hiatus there, but Stand Proud is back on the air! With your hosts, Strawberry Roan…” ”And T Square! Happy to be talking to you all!” ”I am too, T. I am too… Now then… Wow, there’s a hell of a lot to go over, ain’t there? I gotta extend my sincerest apologies to a few of ya’ll listenin’... And my thanks, too. You know who you are… Even if we’re not quite sure.” ”I just want to say… Thank you. I don’t know... Who of all of you were the ones who… D-did it, but you know who I’m talking about. I just wanna say… Thank you.” ”Mm… That’s about right. I’m sure that entire openin’ bit flew over the heads of a lot of you, but we needed to get it all out there. Comin’ up on the show, we have some news comin’ from a contact in Montenegro, wants to inform about some danger on the borders, but before that, T has an advance offa his new album that he’d like to share! Don’t touch that dial… Not that it’d do much! ”And don’t forget for even a second…” ”Stand Proud!” Geoff Wetton removed his earbuds, a smile on his face. Just before the broadcast, he’d explained everything in some fresh clothes. “And here I thought I’d just had a bad trip on the boat, dreamed I was melting…” Eleanor mused, “but that really happened?” “Lotta things really happened,” Marco F. Caine said, chuckling and slapping Damon Aurel on the back harder than was necessary, “right?” “Eheh… Second chances, right? My group is gonna work with SPW more from now on, I think,” the ex-traitor offered with a nervous chuckle. “So… no hard feelings?” “You disgusted me,” Gregor Yuvecksky admitted, “but… this is what Geoff wanted, and he’s a bright young man. I’ll trust him.” Nick Mason, sitting at his desk, had been compiling a report for the Foundation as they all spoke, chiming in now. “The whole of you are the best group of stand users I’ve ever worked with… Will I be able to rely on your cooperation in the future? There’s going to be much work to be done in this New World.” “Still dunno if I want anything to do with this, but… Really glad to see you all alive again,” Daniel Cali admitted among a sea of nods. “Might stay in touch.” “You guys are alright so same,” Anna Rose added, stretching idly, “but if you call me for another team baseball game I’m blocking you all.” “You say like you haven’t loved cricket practice,” Geoff Wetton teased. As Anna responded by just looking away silently, he considered how to answer Mason. After a thoughtful pause, he added, “at a moment’s notice, I’d take this Grand Tour again with any of you.” Tournament 3: Grand Tour - CONCLUDED Thank you all for this, sincerely. There were some bumps along the way, but it could not have been half as great without this community. I cannot stress enough how grateful we are for everyone who invested the slightest amount of time in this project. We wish the best for the next one. As always, PM any of us for an invite to the official discord if you would like. It’s where you’ll be able to be kept up to date on times for the next tourney, as well as reminisce about this one.
Though a couple compelling arguments for Lilah were made, overwhelmingly the majority of players chose to side with the Soul Rebels in their first match, leaving them taking the popularity score with a decisive 7-2.
Previously… An epic battle had sprung out of mirrors and mascots in the empty Epcot resort, the armed gunmen accompanying Lilah backing her up fiercely and managing some truly frightening amounts of property damage. Lilah, her men, and their fireworks found themselves locked in a bitter stalemate with the mirror-matched minions of Amaki Castillo’s Window Licker. Lilah’s own attention, however, was turned away from that much larger force by the close-up infiltration of Lucil Caravan and Around the World, blindsiding her with her stand abilities and taking an early advantage in what would immediately turn into an intense stand crash. AtW struck a decisive blow, however, and the masked men heard something break in their current commander. Her eyes went wide as the stand’s rapid-fire fist drove itself through her torso. The surviving trio - Donald, Olaf, and Stitch - were quick to simply take their car and bail. “Fuck this!” the recreation of Donald Duck’s voice exclaimed, “we’re outta here!” He and Olaf, however, made the mistakes of trying to take potshots at the pair to cover their escape, and for that mistake were very quickly killed by a Window Licker copy of their own car ramming into them. If you’d just run away… she mused to herself. Both girls were alerted to the sound of something moving behind them, and turned to face Lilah dawn, who had stood back up even with the gaping hole in her chest. Lucil and Amaki readied for round two, but Lilah put her hands up to halt them. "Hey don't worry, I'm already dead. You won, and I'm not petty enough to try taking you with me. In a few minutes it wouldn't matter anyway." Lilah moved to sit over on one of the park benches that had made it out of their skirmish unscathed. [9 to 5] appeared behind her, a frown on its face as the digital display clock had begun to count down. "Do you know why I had traded away [Blunt the Knives] to some random scientist? It wasn't to draw fighters into some trap, and it wasnt to stop that rampaging train, at least initially." Lilah paused for a moment, and looks back at her stand. 5 minutes remained until she died for good. "It was to use as a weapon against ＧＩＡＮＴＳ himself. He told me of his plan to create some perfect world, a utopia, using these artifacts. But I realized they could be used to get me back to my original world. I could use them to stop whatever happened in the first place that sent me here!" "I played along with him, he was desperate enough that it was easy to join his ranks. Told myself that casting my lot with him was my best chance of coming out on top. justified some of my early murders as 'for the greater good' or 'this world is fake anyway', but no matter how much I tried to suppress the guilt... I knew, I was just making up excuses." Lilah groaned; even kept alive it hurt to talk this much. "After that train went out of control, the guilt had become too much for me. I needed to take it out, if not for me, then for all the people it killed because of my negligence. I even gave up my trump card to do it." Lilah looked down at the ground and shook her head, as her stand continued to count down: 2 minutes left. "At that point, I didn't know what to do other than stick to my guns, and look for an opportunity to take out the boss man without [The Overload]. I guess I won't need to worry about that now, though... now it's up to you all. This was the thing you came here for right?" She pulled out a medallion and threw it towards Amaki, who took the round disc and pocketed it. Lilah’s stand wavered behind her, it’s display down to sixty. “I can’t really ask you to take on my wish as some last request, It’s not where you people belong, but I do have one request. Don’t remember me as Lilah Dawn, feared member of Hall of Heads. Remember me as Lilah Dawn, the powerless woman who tried to do the right thing, but lost sight of herself along the way.” Out of time, Lilah slowly closed her eyes and laid herself to rest on the bench, as the final seconds ticked down. [9 to 5]’s clock read 0, and the stand faded away as it’s user perished. ‘9 to 5’ user Lilah Dawn - DEAD The girls were silent for a few contemplative moments, standing over Lilah’s body as Amaki examined The Coconut Estate. True to its description, it was a small beige amulet depicting some sort of beetle. The Artifact was too worn to know which kind for sure, and the head of the beetle had been completely distorted. They would find on the ride to meet with T again that it is, in fact, true that the Coconut Estate attracts small insects, such as ladybugs, fireflies, moths, butterflies, etc. to it. In the meantime, though, Lucil wondered aloud as she approached the crashed car, “who the fuck were these clowns..?” before beginning to frisk their bodies for any sort of identification. They couldn’t find any on their persons, but Amaki did notice something else on all of them. Adorning each of their ankles was an unusual tattoo of an eye. “Hey, come look at this.” “Huh?” Lucil leaned in. “What’s this VFD-ass bullshit..?” She shook her head. “We should probably bail before the cops show up. We can look into it with T, I guess… Whew. We really killed a Hall of Heads member, yeah?” Scenario: The moon hangs in the warm air. A group of what appears to be soldiers stands at the foot of a large mountain, with various vehicles surrounding them. There are doors on the outside of the mountain… likely an entrance into some kind of complex carved into the mountain itself. The rank and file soldiers stand watch around this entrance way, but directly at the door, four more are standing, separated from the rest. They are… Abnormal. One of them, the most normal looking, is a handsome man seeming to be of Chinese descent with jet black hair and a slightly scarred face. Clad in body armor and with a strange-looking pistol at his side, he holds out some kind of communication device. The four of them appear to be in a phone call with someone else. “Are you exiting the area now, Miss Elliot?” The dark-haired man says. His tone is professional, but slightly light-hearted at the same time. “Yes, I am. ” Says the voice of Brooke Elliot on the other side of the phone. “Well, actually, I have exited the area. The soldier in the R&D lab has his orders.” “After the canister is filled with the material, he is going to call an evacuation order, isn’t he?” Says a female voice. A woman who appears to be of African descent, with her hair combed over one side of her head, is the next to speak. Her voices holds something akin to a naive tone, and she appears quite pretty. However, her legs are sleek and metallic, and from her back, five iron rods protrude, with disc-like apparati attached to the end. They move around with shocking fluidity. “Indeed.” Brooke replies. “After you receive the evacuation order, exit the facility promptly. Once everyone is out, send an all-clear, and he’ll collapse the facility.” “‘Bouts how long do ya think it’ll take?” Comes a gruff third voice. It belongs to a short, somewhat stocky man, who nonetheless towers over the rest. His body sits in a complex mesh of thick iron bars that enter into his body, increasing him to towering size. “If it’s gonna be a while…” The ironclad man continues. “It should only be about 40 more minutes. After that, he’ll take the emergency exit and send the order. Your orders are to stand watch and make sure nothing happens.” Brooke Elliot continues. “... I’m about to leave the range of the communications systems. Good luck, uh, soldiers.” Bid the widow, her voice somewhat clumsily deepening at the last word. “We’re gonna make my husband’s will come true... And take down those bastards in the Hall…” “Whatever you say, Miss Elliot. We’ll be seeing you soon.” The dark haired man says with a slight smug tone. “May the spirits of the fallen watch over you… ‘She’ wishes you luck as well!” The naive girl says in an almost chipper fashion. “Heh heh heh… Fightin’ the Hall…. I can’t wait…!” Said the ironclad man, a sinister smile on his face. ”Stay safe, Brooke.” The fourth of the group finally spoke, his voice metallic and tinny, coming out of a speaker as opposed to a mouth. He sat in a wheelchair, a quilt blanket covering most of his body, letting only his head be seen. He is shaved bald, and half of his head has been replaced with black metal plates. Numerous diodes and receivers jut out from his skull; he looks concerningly like a cadaver. “Uh… Yeah. Y-you too…” She replies. Everyone seems fairly shocked by the fact the man in the wheelchair has spoken. The phone is soon hung up. Behind a large storage container a good distance from the entrance, though, two people are listening in to the conversation in secret. “Is that them…?” Anna Rose says in a whisper. “Yeah…” Geoff Wetton replies. “Those are them… The Perfect Strangers.” “Simply put, we shouldn’t only be worrying about the Hall of Heads.” T Square said. The Soul Rebels were sat nearby him. Amaki Castillo and Lucil Caravan were already set on their trip to Epcot, and while they were preparing, T spoke to the rest of the members. “What’s the other ‘threat’?” Gregor Yuvecksky asked, a determined scowl on his face. “Senator Randall Elliot.” Was T’s response. Buffalo Soldier, standing slightly away from the table, made a grunting vocalization, which could be considered as having a questioning tone. “I… I know that’s a little confusing. I mean, he died just a short while ago…” T glanced over at Buffalo, but said nothing. “Why would some Florida senator be bad news for us…? Especially since he’s, y’know, dead?” Mute said. She wasn’t a fan of government officials, but it’s not like anyone was going to be passing bills in their grave. “Some of you already know, and I’m sure the rest of you could guess, but…” T took a second to collect his thoughts, and his breath, before continuing. “He was a Stand User. His ability, [Deep Purple], let him give different Stands’ abilities to pieces of technology.” Though a few of the Soul Rebels, most obviously the Philosophers, were already having their eyes widen and the gears in their head turn, more than a couple looked befuddled or were Buffalo Soldier. “L-Listen, I’m sure all of you have had a run in with some tool or something that had some weird power or something to do with Stands, right?” The remaining Rebels thought for a moment, before nodding their heads in affirmation. “Well,” T continued, “Even though he’s…” He hesitated as something got caught in his throat. It was normal in what he’s gotten himself into, and he had already said it, but for some reason it never got easier to talk about. “d-dead now… Senator Elliot was also the commander of a Paramilitary organization. The Stormbringers.” A wave of slight surprise went through the Soul Rebels. “A… Paramilitary organization?” Geoff Wetton asked, the first to break the short silence. His stern, aged teammate was quick to cut him off with just as much warmth as you’d expect. “They’re a group of enterprising, military wannabes, then?” Gina’s brow furrowed at the old man’s comment, but she held her tongue. “Not exactly. They’re the real deal, for every crook they pick off the street, they’ve got an old vet training them. All of them are equipped with tech made by Elliot, and they basically served as his private military, for whenever he needed one.” T explained. “So, what, they’re still bumming around even though he’s in the dirt?” Anna Rose spat out hastily in a hushed tone, her awkward attempts not to stand out only drawing further attention. “Y-Yeah. After he died, control of the organization was transferred to his wife, Brooke. Right now, she’s the one in charge of the whole operation. Aiding in the power transfer… Are the squadron leaders for the Stormbringers. Elite soldiers with… a bit of extra technology.” “Right, that extra technology being…?” Geoff prodded. “Right, well. O-Okay.” Quickly clearing his throat, T stood up straight as his spine would allow as he continued. “Most all the tech you’ve dealt with up until now are DPSDs, or ‘Deep Purple Security Devices’. Cameras, goggles, guns that can be used to fight Stands… Along with other tech that uses the power of specific Stands. It’s impressive tech, but the elite soldiers in the Stormbringers have something… More than that.” “... In what way?” Gina Halfway asks, seeming slightly detached. “To… put it into perspective, th-they’re the closest thing that has ever been done to manufacturing a Stand User.” Once again, a wave of surprise hits the Rebels, with even Gina seeming to be taken aback. Her Stand, however, seems more amused at the concept than anything, considering his current perch. T continues. “The Stand-boosted technology isn’t their equipment… It’s deep-body prosthetics with complete neural links.” “Soooo…. They’re cyborgs?” Bad Name asked whimsically, chipper despite T’s dire tone. “Neat.” “In essence, yeah. They’re cyborgs whose mechanical pieces have been modified with Stand Powers. Normal people… Well… ‘Normal’ people who have been given the ability to act as a Stand User. The technical term for their prosthetics and implants are Deep Purple Augmented Combat Systems, or DPACS for short. Their official designation is the Deep Purple Augmented Assault Squadron, but the more common name they go for… is the Perfect Strangers Unit.” “... So they’re looking to carry on Senator Elliot’s will? What does that specifically mean?” Anna asked. “Well… The simplest way to put it, is that Elliot thought he could use the Artifacts to attain Godlike power.” Everyone’s eyes either rolled, or were stuck in place in disbelief. Gregor failed to stifle a chuckle, while Gina squinted through her tired eyes, groaning out the word “Really?” with complete exasperation. “Yeah, really.” He agreed, not sounding too pleased himself. “But his wife is still trying to make that real, and she’s working against both us and the Hall of Heads to make it happen with the Stormbringers and her Perfect Strangers.” Geoff Wetton raised a hand. “Umm….. Y-yes?” T responded, looking at him. “You don’t have to raise your hand you know…” “If the Stormbringers and the Hall of Heads are working in opposition,” Geoff said, ignoring the side comment, “Is there any reason we have to take them on? Can’t we just wait for the two sides to fight, and take on whoever’s left standing?” “Hm. Not much of a hunt to wait, but...” Buffalo adds, staring intensely at Geoff before his expression lights. “It would mean a large reward, a guaranteed trophy.” “It would be… There’s, uh… complications, though.” “Of course there is…” Geoff mutters with a sigh. “The Stormbringers have something of a trump card… The Stairway to Heaven project. The details are muddy, but the important fact is that it’s necessary to use the full power of the Artifacts.” “... I think I see the problem.” Gregor Yuvecksy says. Geoff and Anna turn to him. “Feel free, professor.” T says respectfully. “If this Stairway to Heaven project, along with the Artifacts themselves, are needed to unlock the power, then if the Hall and the Stormbringers fight, whoever wins that battle will have both some number of Artifacts and this Stairway to Heaven project, is that the case?” “Exactly right. Thank you.” T says with a bow, which Gregor waves off. “If we let the two of them fight, then whoever wins the battle will be a massive leap closer to absolute victory. We can’t let that happen…” “... So we have to take both groups out, then?” Geoff says. His tone is serious, but the slightest hint of a smile is on his face. T nodded, giving a small affirmative hum in response. “We’ll be hunting for blood after all.” Buffalo mused, sounding satisfied with this turn of events. “So what’s the actual mission, then?” Anna inquires, inching ever-so-slightly farther away from the hairy, unwashed man she’s already made a point of not standing anywhere near. “The Stormbringer’s main base is built into a mountain on a small island to the north of Cuba, not too long of a boat trip from here. Tomorrow night, In the deepest parts of that base, they’re planning on synthesizing the last piece of the Stairway to Heaven project, should be a canister filled with some kind of liquid. There should also be some documents relating to the location of the rest of the project in the same area.” “So we go in and grab those?” Geoff asks. “Not quite. The entrance to the part of the facility where the objectives are located is likely to be locked behind a heavy security door. In order to get past that door, you’ll need proper identification…” “Oh… I think I see where this is going…” Anna said reluctantly. “You’ll need the identification from all four of the Perfect Strangers. Any piece of their tech should do the trick, so you’ll need to take them all out and break off a piece of their cybernetics.” “So… The mission is to infiltrate that Stronghold, take down all four of the Perfect Strangers, retrieve the canister and documents about the Stairway to Heaven Project, and then get back out?” “There’s an emergency exit in the back, so getting back out won’t be hard, but you’ll also need to be quick. After the material is synthesised, they’re planning on detonating explosives and collapsing the entire base, so you’re gonna be on a bit of a timer. Beyond that, though… That’s basically it, yeah.” “... Alright. I’ll do it.” Geoff says. “How many people is this mission for?” T hesitated for a moment, running some numbers in his head. “... Well… Sending a single person to fight against all of the Perfect Strangers is… Not gonna be a good idea, but it’s also a fully guarded military compound, so this is going to end up being a stealth mission… To many people in the base will… Make that more complicated. I’d say that… Two people should be where we set the limit.” “Okay, then.” Geoff said. “Gregor, Anna, which of you wants to come with me?” “Wh-whu…?” Anna replied, slightly shocked. Gregor raised an eyebrow. “Is there some particular reason you think we would be more suited to this mission?” The old man asked in a questioning tone. “Nothing all too complicated, professor.” Geoff said with the slightest chuckle. “It’s going to be a dangerous job, and I’d prefer people I know how to work with well for it is all.” After a few side-eyed glances from the remainder of the Soul Rebels, he quickly adds “No offense to the rest of you, of course, but for this sort of mission, knowing my partner is important.” “Hold on, now.” The quiet sniper Gina Halfway interjects. “For this sort of reconnaissance mission, surely me and [Bad Name] would be better for it, no?” The small Stand chipped in, “Yeah, it’s easy as cake! Followin’ movements and such.” “Well…” T began, eliciting a small sight from everyone at the table. “Most of the base is built out of Deep Purple tech, including Stand-proof walls, and Stand Detecting goggles. Even your power of X-Ray vision probably won’t help too terribly much.” “Hmm… Well still, having a smaller scout couldn’t hurt anything, right?” “She has a point, Geoff.” Gregor said sternly. “Is there any particular reason you want to take this one?” “Well…” Geoff starts, slightly embarrassed. “It seems like… Tough, you know? It seems like a hard mission… But it also seems like a way to grow.” Gina’s scowl hardened, but around the table, Mute and Buffalo seemed to quietly nod. “To hunt large game... “ The unwashed man began. “You are a small man with large guts.” “Uhh… Is that a-” Geoff replied confusedly. “Large guts… Are largely good.” Buffalo finishes, cutting Geoff off completely. He has a surprisingly clear smile on his face, as though he was proud of that line. “... I can s-see where you’re coming from there…” Mute said next, also slightly taken aback by Buffalo’s words. Though this entire endeavor for the Artifacts had hit her hard, but the passion Geoff seemed to have about wanting to grow… She could still sympathise with it. “...” Gina looked around with a slight scowl. “... Seriously…?” “There’s uh…” T stammered, struggling to speak over the conversation around the table. “I was, g-gonna save it for the briefing proper… I’ll get more details prepared for that later gotta compile the, uh…. I-information, but-” “What it is, T?” Geoff asked impatiently. “Well… It might help you all decide what to do… Deep Purple tech, like the DPACS systems in the Perfect Strangers Unit is built and modified using… Material… From other Stand Users. Particles in their body that can be used to give their Stand Powers to machines.” “Okay…?” The cricket player tried to draw out more information. “All of the tech in the Perfect Strangers was… Upgraded with new abilities recently… Using, uh…. R-recently…. Procured….” The organizer for this whole event seemed extremely hesitant to continue. “What is it, T?” Gregor asked with a stern kindness, used to getting explanations of issues from his students. “... Bodies. Bodies of… People who have died on this Artifact hunt…” T said, with no small amount of both disgust and fear in his voice. The rest of the group fell silent. Once again, it was the man who had rushed to take this mission who broke the silence. “... Who’s bodies?” “... The Speedwagon Foundation Operative, Blue Monday…” Gregor thought to himself that the name was familiar; though he was only interned at the SPW, he had still caught some amount of wind of the name Blue Monday. “... The mercenary known as Simon ‘Jack’ Rodgers…” Though he did not know this man, almost by instinct, Geoff grabbed the collar of the coat he was wearing, not knowing it’s origins as a hand-me-down from that very man. “... Parkour artist… Ken Nard…” Buffalo’s face, though it was neutrally a scowl, seemed to darken even deeper. Anna rose sank into her seat, sweat forming on her brow, as she seemed to want to be anywhere but the table. “... And… Pharmaceutical Scientist…” A breath comes from every member of the Philosophers. “... Eleanor Rigby. Those are the… Corpses they used for the Perfect Stranger’s tech.” T said in a grim voice. “... Well that settles it then, right?” Geoff took a deep breath, a smile on seeming to be on his face. A deeper look, though, and anyone could see that he was making an extreme attempt to hold back rage and sadness. “There’s no way in hell I’m not going now.” Gina looked to be about to speak, but a glance at Geoff and the aura he was producing acted as a perfect confirmation of his willpower. She and Bad Name both sat back down. “... I’ll leave it up to you, then.” Gina said, quietly relenting. The sentient Stand said nothing, but seemed to agree with his User. “... Alright then.” Gregor began. “With that settled, let’s decide who else-” The quiet Anna Rose, having spent the most recent moments attempting to manifest invisibility, suddenly raised her hand into the air. “I… Would like to go as well! On the mission!” She yelled loudly. Geoff glanced at her… As did everyone. When they did, she appeared to be with her eyes closed, sweating bullets nervously… But somehow, some way, she let off the same aura that Geoff did in this moment. “... Alright then, Anna. Glad to have you.” Geoff said with a nod. The next night, they were aboard a fishing vessel. The driver was apparently some kind of informant of T’s by the name of Little Pontoon. He was a quiet man, curt and surly with a salt and pepper beard and dressed as a sea captain, and immediately after giving a short greeting to the two of them, retired to the helm to drive the boat. Below deck, Geoff and Anna, having changed into wetsuits over their normal clothes, waited around an old radio. “Swim to the island… Dispose of the wetsuits… Walk to the entrance… That’s the plan, right?” Anna asked. Away from the crowd of the Soul Rebels, her nervousness had become simple pre-mission anxiety. This was far from the first time she had gone through this plan on the boat trip. “That’s what T said, yeah.” Her mission partner replied with a nod. “... Why did you want to come on this mission?” Geoff asked, seemingly out of nowhere, catching Anna off guard. “Wh…” She began a protest, but quickly changed over to thinking. “... Eleanor was a… Teammate and a friend. I wanna punish the people who used her body as some kind of… Science experiment.” Geoff nodded. That was the main event that had strengthened his own resolve, but he could tell Anna had something more to say. “... But more that just Eleanor…. Ken Nard as well. I don’t know how he died, but… I can’t help but feel like my game with him caused it somehow. He left that court looking… Bad. Really bad.” Geoff stayed silent. “So… For the both of them, I’m going to clean up these mistakes. That’s what I’m here to do.” Geoff stayed silent. As he was about to speak, a voice came over the radio. “H….o….ll…. Hello? Hello? Okay… I’ve got every single thing I know about the Perfect Strangers compiled. Keep all of this in memory, yeah? I’m gonna start the briefing… Now.” Geoff and Anna looked at each other and nodded, as the final mission briefing began. … “Did you get all of that? I hope so… Good luck to the both of you. And Stand Proud.” Almost in perfect sync, Little Pontoon entered the lower decks as the broadcast ended. “This is as close as I’m going. Time for you to swim.” Geoff and Anna looked at each other and nodded. “Are you ready?” He said. “Ready to do what needs to be done.” She replied. All of that brought them to where they now stood, behind a shipping container listening in to their target’s conversation. “Well… That’s that, eh? We just stuck here waitin’ for some canister to fill?” Adrenaline Mob said with no small hint of irritation. “You’ll get your fight soon enough, Mob.” Replied Black August flippantly as he stretched out and sighed. “Ain’t no thing as ‘soon enough’, August.” “Perhaps you should pick up a hobby?” Mulher Mágica Negra interjected in a kind tone. “It seems you lack those.” Her voice implied she meant this sincerely. Black August tried and failed to hold back a laugh. “What did you just say…?!” Mob said, an air of frustration and menace in his voice. “So, what, you think it’d be a good idea if I left my friggin’ brain at the door and started dancing with fairies like you do, Mágica?” The ironclad man continued in a harsh sarcastic tone. “Oh! Do you want to dance? Eleanor thinks you would be great at dancing, Mob!” The naive-sounding woman replied, deflecting all the venom from Adrenaline Mob. “I think you would be good too!” “Why you little….!” Mob stepped towards Mágica with anger in his eyes. Slinking between the two of them almost as if from nowhere, Black August put an arm over both their shoulders. “So when’s the wedding, you two lovebirds?” His smile is the type that could bring a monk to frustration. “Wedding? I don’t think we’re having a wedding…” Mágica said, her expression curious as she thought to herself, missing the joke completely. “Kiss my ass, August!” Mob yelled, shrugging the dark-haired man off of him with a scowl. “Hey, hey! It was just a joke! It’s funny!” August said as he strolled over to their fourth member. “DeadMan knows what I’m talking about, right?” The spy strolls behind the wheelchair and puts a hand on the figure’s shoulders, a smile on his face. DeadMan gives no indication that he is even a living person, let alone that he finds August’s joke entertaining. “Yeah, he knows what I mean.” August pats the man in the wheelchair’s shoulders with a chuckle. “Well… No point waiting out here, yeah? I’m gonna head to the meeting room.” “Were you always so obsessed with ‘Acoustics’, August, or is it just the tech invading your brain?” Mob asked with a mean smile. “Well… We all need hobbies, don’t we, Mob? Speaking of, are you going to practice your dancing in the old observation room?” Mob’s smile turned around as he turned away from August. “I’m gonna be in the missile silo, yeah. Friggin’ smartass…” He muttered under his breath. “Where’re you gonna hole yourself up, Mágica?” He asks. “Hmm… The firing range I think. Training is over. It’s Eleanor’s favorite room, too! She wants to be there one last time before the base is destroyed.” “... Aight, I guess. What about you, DeadMan, you gonna go hang out in… Your... Closet...” As Mob asked this question, DeadMan had already begun wheeling himself into the base, ignoring the conversation entirely. Mob scowled. “Good talk, team.” August said sarcastically, wandering into the base. As it seemed like the four of them were moving out, Geoff and Anna started to move, but stopped dead as soon as August spoke again. “Oh, yeah, before I forget, one more thing… We got reports that a fishing boat was spotted fairly close to the island.” “A fishing boat?” Mágica asked. DeadMan stopped, seemingly listening to what August was saying. “What about a fishing boat?” Mob asked. “Well… If anyone was going to try and kill us and steal the Stairway to Heaven, right now would be a pretty good time, right?” Mágica clutched her chest. “... I can feel her soul burning…” “So you think the Hall are makin’ their move…?” Mob said, a menacing smile creeping onto his face. “I think,” August said win a serious tone. “That it’s a fishing boat. Just stay alert. You might be getting your fight sooner than you thought.” With a chuckle from Mob, all four of the Perfect Strangers entered into the base. The regular soldiers in the area resumed their standard patrols. “... We need to be careful here, Geoff.” Anna whispered. “Yeah… Those four seem like bad news…” Was his response. “Think we can take them?” Geoff thought for a moment. “Not a doubt in my mind.” Location: The Stormbringer’s military compound! A sprawling military base built in to a mountain, this base of operations hold the Stormbringers paramilitary organization! A full map of the entire complex can be found here! The area of this base is divided into several wings, color coded to the Perfect Stranger that resides within them. All squares on all maps represent and area roughly 3 meters by 3 meters. The base's walls, naturally, are stand-resistant. Hub: The main hub for the compound. This large area contains tight hallways, many closed doors (Green), Deep Purple Soldiers (Dark Purple) and their patrol paths (Lighter Purple), along with numerous security cameras (Magenta) and their cone of vision (Pink). From this hub, any of the four main wings of the base are accessible, though it may come with some difficulty. Players start at the bottom left grey rectangle, representing empty storage containers that can act as cover. A map focusing on this area can be found here. Mágica Wing: Light on guards but with extremely long sightlines, this winding path of the base folds in on itself as it approached the room where Mágica and her [Second Shadow] await, a firing range. With all the equipment stripped from it, though, this range now serves as an extremely flat and long room with little to nothing in it except for Mágica herself. A map focusing on this area can be found here. Mob Wing: Guards are paired up, but split up in this large square hallway. In the center are two break rooms for the soldiers; the guards in there will not move on their own, but if they’re alerted to the presence of intruders, they’ll emerge to provide reinforcements. At the end of this wing, Adrenaline Mob waits in a tall three-story observation room! Essentially a concrete box, Mob’s room has a floor, and 5 meters up from that is a mesh grating deck about 3 meters out and guard rails set up. 5 meters up from that is another mesh identical mesh grating, and 5 meters up from that is the ceiling. There are ladders available to get from each level to the next, and the door to the area is located on the second story. A map focusing on this area can be found here. August Wing: Tight corridors are the name of the game in this claustrophobic section. The split pathway in the middle leads to the auditorium and meeting room, a large rectangular space with a raised stage at the far end. The ceiling is about 10 meters up, and 4 meters from it is a mesh grating floor with guardrails meant to deal with overfill on either side of the room, with ladders leading up to them. A map focusing on this area can be found here. Dead Wing: The home of DeadMan, the deep red squares represent the 20 drones that comprise [Good Monsters], range boosted by the area but unfunctional outside it. Though this wing lacks many guards, be alert! [GMs] have paths accessible only to them (Pale Green with blue-green representing entrances), and while their starting positions are known, the variety of [GMs] in those positions remains unknown, so be ready! DeadMan waits in what is essentially a closet. If you can get to his actual position he’s basically defenseless. A map focusing on this area can be found here. Final Wing: The home stretch! A single long hallway into the remains of the deconstructed R&D lab. Boxes containing all sorts of equipment litter the area, and a single guard stands watch over the device filling the Canister needed for the Stairway to Heaven project. He also has documents relating to that project on his person, so take him out, grab the documents, wait for the canister to fill, and get out through the emergency exit! Once you’re here, you’re practically home free! A map focusing on this area can be found here. Goal: Defeat all four Perfect Strangers, use their identification to enter the R&D wing, grab the documents and wait for the canister to be filled, and get out, all within the 40 minutes before the base is collapsed! Should be easy, right? Additional Information: Guards in the base all have the following traits:
Meaning that they are mostly going to stick on their predetermined patrol routes unless something massive catches their attention. If they do investigate, so long as they don’t find anything on a cursory glance, they’ll likely just return to their normal setup soon after. In case you missed it in the writeup itself, here’s the briefing received on all of the Perfect Strangers by T Square. This last piece of Additional Information is more for the players than the characters, but due to the size and complexity of this match, the amount of character permitted in strategies for this match is 30,000.
The Perfect Strangers Unit
“Well, the bombs will be dropping soon, and you two have a lot of catching up to do. Farewell.” This whole base is doomed in 40 minutes anyway, and if the Stairway to Heaven material is synthesized and taken away before these intruders can reach it, then they don’t win anyway. With that in mind, make every single battle between the Rebels and the Strangers last as long as possible!
“All weapons and equipment OSP?” This tech is immoral, but it’s also valuable, and after the base is collapsed, it might all end up lost… Or worse, found by someone with ill intent. Make off with as much Deep Purple technology as you can manage!
Carrying The Coconut Estate, a woman who is not of this world waits, as she did for ages, right around the Orlando Area. Coming right her way are two young women who would see the end of her, one for the end of all abuses of power, another for a comfortable life where her enemies had never been.
Driving to a remote facility are two inseparable Philosophers: One who wishes to be loved, one never wanting to stop growing. Given an accursed new lease on life are soldiers made stronger with the spirits of the dead, at all corners of this sprawling compound! They scheme to carry on Deep Purple's will…
A hunter of few words who only wants peace, quiet, and a companion, and a young thief who wishes for a peaceful world devoid of hatred and violence travel to Estero in search of the Hanging Tree. A quiet restaurateur waiting for someone to come and take it desires only a kinder world.
Saturday, September 29th
Not a proper match, but the date that match 3’s results will be announced, assuming no delays.
Hoping to create a world where evildoers are punished, where good people can move on, where people like them are not necessary, a survivor of the Soviet regime and gifted American sniper travel to Merritt Island. ＧＩＡＮＴＳ is waiting there to kill them.
Friday, October 5th
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