<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/70QCU.jpg)</div><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>  Name:</strong>         Eric Brooks<br/>  <strong>Title:</strong>            Blade<br/>  <strong>Affiliation:</strong>  Resistance<br/>  <strong>Location:</strong>   Tokyo, Ground level of Mori Tower<br/>  <strong>Tags:</strong>          Diamondback, Warmachine (Tony Stark)<br/><br/></span></span><hr/>Blade had just collected his two original throwing weapons when Diamondback started her flight from one of the windows, high on one of the upper floors. Any plans he had of slipping into the building and picking off the soldiers one by one quickly died when a figure came rocketing from out of nowhere, catching the falling woman and lowering himself to the ground with a thud. The pair were about thirty feet away from him, but more alarming were the quickly adapting infantry he knew were going to descend upon them in a matter of seconds.  They clearly weren't the enemy, but they were being shockingly stupid, small talking in the face of certain death at the hands of multiple superhuman death squads. He shook his head and jogged over at a brisk pace, oblivious to the fact that he was still wearing an angry expression and holding a blood soaked sword in his hand. His approach was quick and not concerned about stealth anymore, he only stopped when he was a few feet away.<br/><br/>There was no room for any triviality in his tones, Blade was nothing but business and rage when he spoke. "You two, shut the<em>fuck</em>up. I don't care who you are or what you're doing here right now, because in a very short amount of time, there are going to be seven or more soldiers of Apocalypse, like<em>that</em>trying to turn you inside out with whatever powers they may have!" He gestured at the corpse of the soldier he had slain with his sword before. He did a cursory examination of the two standing before him, teeth bared, face contorted in the blood rage that still gripped him, kept in check by nothing short of miraculous will power. The one in the suit was suspicious to Blade, the design not unlike the ones that all of the soldiers were wearing, but if he had to guess, this one seemed to have a few more tricks, the armour plating far more segmented in it's design, speaking of a far less compromising style. Furthermore, the oddly personalized voice that emanated from it had to be of fine make, AIs weren't supposed to speak in requests or fluid responses, with little things like "I hope" thrown in. The girl was giving him mixed responses, her suit said something along the lines of professional, whatever that may be, mercenary or something, whereas the pink hair and the<em>flirt talk in the current, horrendous situation told him otherwise.</em>" A little spark of recognition lit inside Blade, from his time in the Avengers- well, some part or another. He looked like Iron Man, and flirting did fit the flippant and arrogant personality of Tony Stark, but the suit was different. Bulkier, more drab in it's colour scheme, and<em>the fucking minigun.</em>"<br/><br/>