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/Drip./
/Drip./
/Drip./
It's raining in Paragon City tonight and there's a small leak in my suit. The icy water is trickling down my back and making my inner-suit most
irritating to wear. The sky is bleak and the weather gods have decreed that we are in for a dumping. Despite efforts, predictions, and expectations to the
contrary, a massive storm has hit the city. It has set in and has been lashing the city for days... first time that has happen in who knows how long.
I sit up here on this building in Atlas Park over-looking the base entrance, watching the rain cascade out of the sky. It's really pelting the city. But
there are times when not even water can wash away all the stains - sometimes the grime's just too deeply enrooted. Scratch beneath the surface, and
you'll see it again like malignant boil oozing puss and fouling the once pristine appearance again.
/Drip./
/Drip./
/Drip./
The rain trickles and flows like a living serpent as it traces paths down my suit and then across my visor. I make no move to clear it away. Motionless, I sit
here and ponder. A sentinel, watching over those foolish or brave enough to venture out in this weather. The rain pings off my weapon where it rests, ready to
be used, should the need arise. For now it lies to the side, slowly being rinsed along with its owner. Always ready to speak its voice in the pursuit of
justice, it sat dormant. Like everything else, it seem muted, dulled, washed out. The oppressive gloom that rain has brought is all pervasive, and seems to
drag everything down.
Casting my gaze at the building I'm perched on, the sheets of water rebounds off the side of the wall. Forming puddles and pools on the ledge that I'm
sitting on before overflowing these and trickling down the wall to join the run-off in the street below. Once it mixed with the murky muck in the drains it
would flow along with all of the other filth into the sewers and from there it would end up who knows where. Probably the sea or some processing plant
somewhere. The building that houses the base is no better off, it is getting completely drenched as well.
Below, there is little traffic in the street. Who can blame them? In this deery gloom it not safe to be on the roads driving a vehicle and yet there are still
some that do. And then there are the brave souls that brave the sidewalk and are traveling about on foot. None of them ever looking up, none of them ever
noticing the silent additional gargoyle on top of this particular ledge. But that's ok with me. It would be better for them to be done with their business
and inside quicker then prolong their trip outdoors.
It's true, no one ever bothers to look up. Not anymore. Even the new gang of street thugs that has recently blown into the area is keeping quiet tonight.
Think the rain might have drowned them. Can only wish the city was that lucky.
The rain continues to roar down on my head, but I am able to filter it out as I turn my head skywards, the first movement in hours. No, still raining. The sky
is still falling, the rain still tumbling down in sheets. I can still hear the pitter-patter of the drops falling on my suit and visor. And yes, it is still
dripping down under the back of my suit, my inner suit getting uncomfortably wet and irritating.
Taking a deep breath and then holding it for a two-count and letting it out over a three-count, I let the worries and melancholy flow away like the rain
running over every nook and cranny of my armor. Yes, it is raining, but it is only water. Yes, it is bleak out, but life goes on. Yes, people are staying
indoors, but they are doing so together as groups. From here I can see a family gathered together around a heater watching a show. There is a bunch of people
over there enjoying a meal in a restaurant.
At this hour of night I wonder where the rest of my family are. Hopefully somewhere warm and safe. Calling up the roster I see that my extended family, some of
them are sleeping, others are 'off duty' if ever there was such a thing while others are like me, busy patrolling the city despite the lousy weather.
What makes a hero? That fundamental question bubbles up in my head. It has been asked a million times and received a million answers. So what's one more.
Does kneeling here in the cold sapping rain with it trickling down my back make me a hero? No. I don't feel very heroic at moment. Besides, there are a few
beat cops down there that have been out there just as long as I have.
So what makes a hero? A hero is someone who is able to stand up and be counted when it matters. To face a challenge and succeed. Even ordinary people can be
heroes. A hero is someone who offers shelter to those who need it - as someone once did for me. A hero is someone who cares for others while asking nothing in
return - as someone once did for me. A hero is someone who goes beyond the call of duty to help another - as someone once did for me. A hero is someone who
without hesitation puts themselves at risk to help strangers - as someone once did me. A hero is someone who brightens your day - as someone once did for me.
A crash of glass in the distance... and the police-scanner bursts into life: "Robbery in progress..."
Guess those gangs finally got bored of doing nothing.
Grasping my weapon, I slip off the ledge and into the night towards the crime.
Time to be somebody's hero, as someone once was to me.
First impressions are important, or so the saying went, and so Pooky really should have found the pig-headed, racist prat of a Malakite whose name he
hadn't bothered to learn off putting as hell, and ignored the call to help the group with Frostfire, as they were perfectly capable of managing on their
own. It'd be good for his mostly ornamental blood pressure, and not tempt him into putting an arrow through the angel. Even if it would only inconvenience
her as much as it did him, which was to say, not much.
However, Celestial racist attitudes set aside, he was reformed, and as such he had a slight sense of duty to the
youngins to keep'em safe. Especially the poor half-demon girl who was probably feeling the weight of the Malakite's ire in his absence.
So he'd gone along, and been surprised to find that any real squabbling had vanished in his absence. The team worked together fairly well in clearing out
Frosty's hideout(again), destroying the summoning altar(again), and beating Frosty's second in command to get the key to his penthouse(again). And as
long as Pooky stayed out of sight, the urge to ventilate the higher-than-thou angel also taking up residence on the team was pretty non-existent.
However, during the final charge, there wasn't exactly ROOM to ignore her as they came up the hall, and while the woman charged in foolhardily enough,
Pookie watched, intending to get some sort of cathartic joy in seeing her wind up flat on her face, her holy heiney exposed for a proper judge of the feminine
form to more properly appreciate. Which would be himself, of course. One thing Pookie had never held against the Heavenlies was their personal appearance,
after all. And when they didn't bother with the armor and just went with those toga robe hybrid things because a bra was too "modern"? Rawr.
As it went, however, she did not, in fact, faceplant. Rather, the Malakite was as dangerous as all in her choir, and Outcasts fled before her righteous anger
even as Pookie was pinioning others from afar, be they charred by her blade, incinerated by her breath, or fricaseed by the blessed flames that wrapped around
her bare hands. She was a berserker, charging in with absolutely no care for her own personal safety and bringing down a disproportionate amount of enemies in
response, as simple Paragon thugs simply had no clue in hell(Pookie winced at the unintentional pun) how to deal with someone whose sole existence was built on
punishing them for their misdeeds.
And after the job was done, seeing her standing there, heat from the battle causing steam to roll off the frozen pillars of the room, eyes alert and looking
for another target, Pookie felt a small sense of certainty crystalize in him. He excused himself, took an Ouro portal out, and began to plot.
***
"You're plotting."
"Yes, Pete."
"About what?"
"About that new Scrapper in Riot."
"The angel? Isn't that...um...some kind of violation of parole or something?"
"Not exactly. And even if it were, I'd do it anyway."
"Why's that?" the cyborg asked, leaning back against a wall curiously.
Pookie gave him a rakish grin. "Because it's a damn shame Heaven be wasting a perfectly hot white girl like that. I'm gonna pull out the stick
jammed up her ass if it kills her. A few times if need be. Getting to thumb the nose at her bosses in the process just makes it more fun."
***
Some distance away, Rahabiel dismissed the armor about her with a thought, the red and gold plates vanishing in flashes of cleansing flame. Something about the
day irked her, but she couldn't quite place it. Probably the Imp. Being forced not to strike him down due to technicalities was obviously disconcerting one
of such clear purpose as herself.
Surrounded by fire all her existence, Rahabiel didn't even notice the burning smell coming from behind her. Nor did she think to look back and see the
handful of black feathers dropping from her wings, each burning about the edges till they collapsed into black dust.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
Interesting...
So the imp gets a little cleaner, and the angel a little dirtier.
Why do I have the idea this is the beginning of a great friendship,
A Great and Terrible Friendship.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy
Valles wasn't particularly known to be a night owl, but after finally finishing her term paper on the ethical implications of alternate reality duplication
of individuals, she realized it was rather late. The sun had fallen outside her apartment's window, and street lamps illuminating the odd art deco
structure in the middle of the quad as well as the Midnighter seal on their club building across the way showed one lone straggler stepping in, but otherwise
little activity. A quick glance out her workspace door confirmed Braende had gone to bed earlier, probably realizing with the experience of many a late night
study session that V wouldn't likely be done in time to really enjoy much of anything but sleep after an assignment like this.
However, the dark skinned form sprawled out on the couch, TV still turned on where she'd fallen asleep watching it, showed that Lynna hadn't been
warned about such a situation. Technically, she could've easily joined Braende in bed or even phased through the wall to her own appartment which happened
to be next door, but the lack of any attempts to make her position too comfortable for sleep suggested it was accidental. V smiled, stroking a hand across
Lynna's cheek which failed to elicit any response.
Really, Valles hadn't expected any. Lynna slept like a brick once she finally dozed off, which meant she'd be immobile for the near future. V certainly
couldn't lift her herself(not for the first time, she sighed at her lack of skill with stabilizing the kind of formshifting that Lynna seemed to take to as
second nature) and she wasn't about to wake up Braende to help drag the young woman into bed. So she pulled out a blanket, slipping it over Lynna and
slipped a pillow under her head, before bending down to plant a brief kiss and begin her own bedtime preparations.
However, perhaps it was just the increased sensitivity to energy that she had since she'd merged with her Kheldian other half, but she noticed a line of
dark energy snaking away from Lynna out to the small balcony that their appartment enjoyed due to being on the exterior of the building. Following it, she
stepped out to discover a floating ball of ebon energy sitting stationary outside, and froze.
Part of her immediately began the fight or flight instinct as her mind classified the energy as that of a darkshifted Kheldian, but the logic quickly
identified a no less unexpected, but less hostile, identity for the being she was facing.
"...M'kel?"
The orb shifted somewhat, and Valles blinked as she heard a voice speak along a wavelength most humans probably wouldn't have been able to process.
Ah, young Valles. My apologies if I disturbed you.
Valles shook her head, stepping closer. "I was already up. What about you? I didn't think that you could..." she shrugged, gesturing at the
floating ball of energy. "I mean, you and Lynna are merged, right?"
M'kel chuckled slightly, or at least that was the impression V took of the reaction before the Warshade spoke again. Yes,
we are merged, but this is entirely possible due to the development of her bond with myself. I trust you've seen her use similar energies in combat?
When Valles nodded, he continued. Such are the mass which makes up our natural forms, and I am simply borrowing this one for
a time. It allows me to see things on my own, in a manner of speaking, he noted, and Valles blinked at the odd "tone"
"Do you...regret merging with Lynna?" she asked, not entirely sure how much she should pry. Her lover had been remarkably close mouthed about the
circumstances that'd ended with her merged to the alien Warshade, but given the common trend in most mergers, Lynna's had probably been traumatic, so
Valles had let it be. For now.
The orb didn't move, but Valles got the impression of a shaken head. No. The decision was mine to offer to her as much as
it was hers to take, and while desperation was a part of it, the things we have done since have more than repaid the debt we owed one another.
No...more I look at the stars and see...how far I have come.
Sensing her confusion, he continued. What do you know of the history of our kind, young Peacebringer?
Valles shrugged. "Some, from various sources, but not as much as I'd like."
M'kel nodded again, sounding thoughtful. Aeons ago, we were of one race. The Kheldians, beings of pure energy who lived,
loved, and explored among the stars. However, our lifespans were limited, barely a handful of your Terran years, but we were content...for a time.
However, there were those that were not content, and they turned to the sciences of many worlds to attempt to
discover a way to extend our existences. We felt justified, that our race could become so much more if not bound by the short leash with which nature had bound
us. And so, in time, we discovered the life force by which all things live...we subjected ourselves to strange and
unnatural process which warped the very energies of our being. And we became living vampires, who fed upon the life forces of others to extend our own. Fellow
Kheldians, aliens, animals, even plant life...all had energy upon which our blighted grasp could feed. As beings of energy, the Kheldian race had long
associated light with life, and the warping of our numbers that occurred in those days gave birth to our new name. Those That Feed Within The Dark: the
Nictus.
Valles goggled as she assimilated the information. The way M'kel spoke, it was almost as if... she looked at him again. "You were one of the first
ones that changed..."
Yes. And many eons have been spent thinking about that decision. I do not regret it, though I regret the actions I and those
like me took afterwards. The Kheldian War between Peacebringer and Nictus was never an outcome I would have sought. But we were young and foolish...
so many of us were, back then, when our lifespans assured we could be nothing but.
He continued as V took a seat, listening carefully. The acquisition of hosts extended our lives immeasurably. The goal of the
Nictus from the start. But by then, we could not simply share such a discovery. The hosts we took became soldiers in our war, their forms staying with us as we
gained new soldiers from other worlds. A billion worlds, and countless ages, and still the war remained stagnant...however, the Nictii you know as Arahkn and
Requiem changed that. Their energy draining device nearly ended the war by absorbing the energy of the Peacebringers across interstellar distances....but it
woke some of us to what we were doing. Turning our fellow Kheldians, our brethren, into nothing more than a pool of energy upon which to feed? It was too much.
But we had to be careful. We could not flee openly lest the more extreme members of the Nictus turn their weapon upon us as well.
Grim satisfaction creeped into his tone. It was she who united us. Against Flame of the Void and Dirge of Entropy, Fallen
Star Gleams Anew, the one you know as Shadowstar, we began a campaign of subversion and sabotage. We turned against those who
would make the Nictus parasitic conquerors and destroyed their transfer device. Starved of energy and under attack by the Peacebringers once more, the Nictii
splintered and fled amongst the stars, forming hundreds of lesser strongholds.
But we were not welcomed for this achievement, M'kel noted, and Valles winced at the bitterness in his voice. We were Nictus. Obviously, we were the enemy. We were struck down without restraint as we attempted to rejoin the brethren we had left
behind. But as despair mounted, our savior from before found a new solution. The Nictus would always be the enemy to the Kheldians, and so we forsook the name.
We became the Warshades. Those who walk the dark path of conflict, yet seek the light.
He looked at Valles, and despite the nondescript nature of his form, V could feel the scrutiny before he continued. Yet still
we were hunted. As we assisted the Peacebringers from the shadows, still they struck us down with no restraint. And so we followed the former leaders of the
Nictus in their exile of shame to this planet...where we found you humans. You humans who could resist the Nictus even
without the help of Peacebringer or Warshade...yet you still were willing to undergo the fusion.
Valles blinked, before blushing slightly. "I didn't really get much of a introduction to what I was getting into when it happened," she admitted.
"And the more I hear from you...the more I begin to understand why I get such dirty looks from other Warshades...even you, for a while." When the
Warshade didn't reply, Valles looked back at him, an unspoken question finally working its way out. "You...don't talk as much anymore. When Lynna
and I first met, she seemed to be arguing with you all the time...now...now you're just...quiet. Why is that?"
The Warshade was silent for a long moment, before it "looked up" at her again.
Because...it is not so one sided as my stories suggest. There were terrible acts undertaken by the Nictus...before we
realized what we had done. The Peacebringers are somewhat justified in their anger...just as I am somewhat justified in my disgust of them. We disagreed,
initially, over her reaction to you. You were a Peacebringer, almost the enemy...yet you were different. You were kind and compassionate...there was something
about you that eased the wounds our merge had caused within Lynna. And while I could care less about the opinion of a Peacebringer, anything that helped
her...I was willing to sacrifice. As time has gone on, I've begun to know you, but not seen fit to interrupt the life you and she have built together.
Perhaps, in time, Lynna and my merge will deepen to the point there is no more us, and only one being with the knowledge and experience of both. But for now, I
watch, educate her, and try the best I can to help her so that I might redeem myself of my past sins....and prejudices, he added, glancing at her.
And perhaps that, more than anything else, is what makes Earth so important. If the divisions between Warshade and
Peacebringer can be healed here, perhaps millennia of war were not for nothing. Which is what I hope for as I watch these stars. That one day the portion of
humanity that has become embroiled in our war will be able to rejoin the greater Kheldian race and use this increased longevity to once again explore the stars
as we once did...
Valles nodded, smiling despite herself. "It's hard to get over those initial prejudices," she noted, thinking about her own world's history,
and the examples she'd experienced in her own life. "But in the end...I hope you're right. Because what you describe sounds fascinating...I'd
love to see it."
Perhaps, one day, you will, young Peacebringer, M'kel noted, as Valles waved good night and went back inside, and
M'kel returned to gazing at the stars.
Hopefully, it will be worth what you lose when others grow old like you no longer do... he noted softly to himself,
watching the stars twinkle and burn above.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
Note: The last bit with Lost and Sylia was a cooperative piece between me and Ops - this one's all my fault.
Wentworths rumbled with the hushed tones and mumbles of capitalism, buying
and selling going on in almost a cathedral atmosphere. Two bedraggled
figures trooped through the entry, striding swiftly towards one of the
auctioneers.
Lost Sabre, clad in her normal tattered martial arts outfit, stood before
the Wentworths auctioneer, who eyed her with a single raised eyebrow. Lost
held a hand over her shoulder, to receive an item.
The Auctioneer waited.
Lost waited.
the Auctioneer cleared his throat, and Lost whirled around, to confront
Gir Sabre, lost in rapt entrancement with the gleaming holographic cube of
a recipe. Lost snatched it out her hands, eliciting an alarmed squawk, and
presented it to the Auctioneer.
"I'd like to put this up for one MILLION influence!" Lost chirped
The Auctioneer blinked.
"That will be five thousand influence, please."
Lost rummaged through her gi and pulled out a handful of grubby notes,
which she thrust at the auctioneer. Emotionlessly, he disappeared the
notes, and held out his hand. Lost gently handed over the holographic cube
of the recipe, which the Auctioneer also disappeared.
Gir, peeking over Lost's shoulder, sighed as the recipe disappeared into
the works of Wentworths. Lost looked up at the Auctioneer, who stared back
impassively, before leaning forward a minute amount.
"Madame, your item has sold. You have sold One Level Ten Karma: Knockback
enhancement, for twenty-eight million influence. After Wentworths takes
our ten percent consignment, in this case, two point eight million
influence, you recieve twenty five point two million influence. Thank you
for patronizing Wentworths."
"OOoooooooooh!" Gir and Lost chimed simultaneously, as Lost took a credit
chit from the Auctioneer. In a daze, the two rumpled heroines wandered out
of Wentworths, clutching the credit chit between them.
Dark Seraph, Private Investigator, pulled his coat tighter about himself
as a chill rolled up his spine. "So, they have the rebuilding of the
restaurant covered, but they'd like me to... remove.. Gir and Lost...
OK.. as soon as possible.. ... PPD hardsuits?.. seven of them..
tacos?.. deluxe nacho platter... right."
DS rubbed the incipient headache behind his temples, then flipped his
phone back open. Punching speed dial one, he raised the set back to his
ear. "Silicon, this is DS.. I need a favor."
Dark Seraphim stood in front of the battleground, aghast at the sheer
scope of the destruction. Beside him, Silicon and Net Sabre stood, Silicon
quivering with suppressed laughter, Net shaking her head with unsuppressed
giggles. Before them, smoke roze lazily from the demolished hulk of the
Talos Island El Super Mexicano. In front of the smoldering wreckage, Lost
Saber lay supine, her head pillowed on Gir Saber's lap, as that worthy
shovelled tacos from a huge bag into her mouth.
"Hi, DS!" Gir chirped merrily, waving a taco-filled hand. "We had tacos!"
Lost languidly waved one arm, the other folded over her bulging stomach.
Behind them, the roof of the restaurant fell in, and a burst of cinders
rolled up into the sky.
"Gir.. why is the building ruined?"
"Dunno! Have a taco!"
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies
Looking up
Riot force HQ, medbay
Seraph stood it the hallway slumped against the wall, the last couple of days had not been kind to him. After
finally getting in contact with one of the Sabres he asked if she could help him with Gir, but the more she explained, the more he realised that he was out of
his league, so he asked if their was someone more suitable to look after Gir, only to receive a phone call from Gir. She had heard everything from the bug she
planted on him, and believed he didn't want her anymore. This set off a set her off on a small war path as she tore her bedroom out of the building and
started heading to Faultline. Net Sabre was able to stop her, but due to the damages Gir had caused, Seraphs land lord kicked him out, that was 2 days ago. Now
he was at the Riot base, waiting to here if they could fix Gir.
"When was the last time you slept?"
Seraph stood up and turned, standing their was a sabre in a pale blue suit of power armour, Seraph recognised
her as the leader of the Knight Sabres, Silicon Sabre
"I… I don't know." He muttered as he rubbed his eyes.
"You should rest, Net thinks it'll be a day or two before she's done. Follow me." She
carefully took seraphs arm and started leading him down the hall, as they walked, Seraph asked the question he'd been dreading.
"So what happens next?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well when Gir's fixed, I assume you'll find someone that can….. Look after her better."
Silicon stoped and turned to face him.
"And why would I do that Mr. Seraph?"
"Because my track record looks pretty shabby, to tell the truth, I've … screwed up on so many levels
it's not funny."
"Such as?"
"Well there was the incident with the encyclopaedia, the fact that I haven't been around enough
lately. I can hardly afford her and Lazs repair bills and now I have no home, like I said, I screwed up."
Silicon stared at him for a couple of seconds before replying.
"While it is true that you have messed up on several occasions while dealing with the girls, I see no
reason to separate you."
Seraph stood stunned, "Er why?" he cautiously asked.
"I have talked to your sister and Lazuren and they both agree that regardless of what you think,
you're the best person for the job."
"Wha?"
"You took in the girls when there was no one else, you've bent over backwards to make sure they have
everything they need, you gave the girls a family…. And I'm not in the habit of breaking them up."
"But what about housing? I've got no where to live."
"Yes I heard about that, don't worry I'm sure we can come up with something."
Seraph just stared at Silicon, his jaw hanging open.
"I… I don't know how to repay you."
"I think we can come to some sort of arrangement Mr. Seraph. Ah here we are."
They had reached the bunk rooms, Seraph turned to Silicon.
"You can sleep here till we get everything organised, goodnight Mr. Seraph."
"Goodnight ma'am, and thankyou."
Seraph entered the room, found a vacant bunk and collapsed. His last thoughts before drifting off to sleep was
the for once, things where looking up.
*********
thanls to OM for the use of Silicon and MD for editing
(I'm thinking to myself: "self I am thinking, perhaps I should write Zen's backstory to offer up her anger management skillz to lil
explodi-tank." Then again I am also thinking, I could not and let her finish driving poor lill' SD totally nucking fucks. -ponders heavily-
"Lisa!"
Smouldering Decay had about five seconds to realize, yes, that voice was directed at her before a blue blur impacted her, hugging her tightly. She turned, looking down into a pair of bright blue eyes and a face that most Paragoners would look at and groan with subsumed terror.
Decay, however, broke into an astonished smile. "'Nette, how the hell did you get here? I thought you and Jim were still out in White Plains, helping the Vanguard!"
"Well, who'd you think would volunteer to go find you when you went missing?" another familiar voice said as Decay looked up and saw the amused expression on Jim Temblor, alias Temporal Fault, and her original hospital's most common visitor before the war had broken out, usually with his girlfriend, the sky blue haired young teenager(actually, 'Nette'd REALLY grown up since the last time Decay'd seen her, but she suppressed the reaction that realization brought up) with an iron lock about her waist.
Despite the events of the last few days, Decay...no...Lisa was how these two remembered her...Lisa couldn't help but smile. The duo had been one of the few heroic duos she'd known personally before the war, and during it, they'd made sure to keep in contact even as the combat had intensified. The fact they were still alive had helped her keep from losing all hope that the war wouldn't leave much left for the "winners" once it was done on more than one occasion.
"They sent a rescue party?" Lisa asked, pulling herself back to the present.
"Yep," Annette nodded vigorously, bouncing off Lisa and back to her boyfriend like a rubber ball that'd just paused in mid flight and suddenly resumed its ballistic motion. "There was another reason behind it too, but I didn't understand exactly what they were talking about," she admitted.
Lisa chuckled. Same old 'Nette. She was a holy terror in combat with her natural powers, but she wasn't exactly the most brilliant of students when it came to the sciences, which was what'd helped them come into contact, when Jim'd mentioned his girlfriend needed a tutor for her high school physics class. "What was it, Jim?" she asked.
Jim smiled slightly more broadly. "Well, given that they saved the data from your trip here, they were able to refine it a little more for ours...and equip us with some stuff to iron down the things a little more." Noticing Lisa's widening eyes, he nodded, a satisfied smile confirming her guess. "With a little more data from us, the local Portal Corps should be able to lock down our dimensional address....and open two way transit."
Lisa'd never regretted getting into the hero game instead of her native nursing profession when she'd found herself here, but she'd always felt a little guilty that she'd effectively abandoned her old home to the Rikti, despite the logic confirming that it wasn't her fault and she couldn't do anything about it either. But now....now, she hugged the two young teenagers tightly, resisting the stinging in her eyes.
"That's great, Jim. That's just great," she said huskily.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
Yay! More fic. More fic is always good.
Except I have utterly no idea how Decay would deal with the possibility of going home.
...
If you do want to write something about along those lines feel free. I would just ask that it be placed a little ways in the future, timeline wise. I have a
few things I'm working on that need time to play out.
The 'staking a claim' shorts, and the story dealing with the fallout of that (one of the above mentioned things) assume that Decay is mid-30's in
clearance level (Gamma having hit 50 a while ago).
But I could see some real motivation to head 'home' after Decay (story wise) hits 45-50 and she learns what started the war.
Cause offering up home!Nemesis as part of a peace-treaty to the home!Rikti? That would be something Decay would be all over like speed-boosted imps on Crey.
I would be happy to see/write/contribute to that as well.
I really need to nail down a timeline one of these days, even especially since there are at least 3 of us with interdependent storylines.
ETA: oh and I totally forgot what I was originally going to comment on. *grin*
Lisa's education: Both of them have a firm grounding in medicine and are a passible medic in the field (passible, not excellent. Excellent is firmly in
Rhea's territory). But since gaining their powers they have gone separate ways, mainly due to how they were introduced to their powers.
Gamma is firmly in the high energy physics camp, doesn't even want to deal with magic. She has a much finer grained control but has problems dealing with
large groups.
Decay is firmly in the magic camp, and doesn't really know what the rating on the wards she creates mean (aside from "enough"). Less about the
fine grained control, more about the large effects on large areas.
So Decay helping Binary Fission with biology, chemistry, or math I can see. But physics? That would be the blind leading the blind.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy
Well, it IS high school physics. My own experiences with both HS physics and college physics suggest that it's the "oh, duh, you throw things up and
they come back down" class compared to the more complicated stuff.
As I was wont to whine during my senior year of HS, "Physics is just a bunch of math formulas with conversion units thrown in! I don't need more
math!" Against all such protestations, I actually did well in the class when I applied that to the subject.
As to timeline, this story is written in the time period that Binary Fusion and Temporal Fault were introduced: i.e. Decay's been at level 50 for some time
and they just got here(clearing up to level 14 in a single set of runs, in fact, as befits their prior experience).
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
Quote: sweno wrote:
So Decay helping Binary Fission with biology, chemistry, or math I can see. But physics? That would be the blind leading the blind.
Binary
Pulse, on the other hand, has physics hardwired into her brain, which is why she refers to opening gravitational warps and pulling
forklifts through them as "simple, really." She has a tendency to assume that everyone understands it to the level that she does, though. Given that
there are theoretical physicists that don't understand gravity in the ways that she does, it can be frustrating. She's open to tutoring, but she might
lose Fission if she doesn't make her slow down.
"You pull the gravitons into a sine curve that is perpindicular with the gravitational emissions of the core, making sure to only allow a monopole to
manifest. Be sure to cycle the gravitons from anterior to posterior, otherwise you'll pull the target into the street. Simple, really."
Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com
"Good night, and may the Good Lord take a Viking to you."
... whereas Onyx Blast operates by feel.
"I dunno what you're talking about, monopoles and anteriors and sinuses and whatever. I just -grab- things."
--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs
or, to put it as Onyx did when Pulse was giving her the Evil Eye for being all distracted and headscrathy, staring off into space and digging at the back of
her head with a no.2 pencil... "What, I'm probing my anterior sinus with a monopole, lemme alone"
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies
"Okay, lemme get this straight," Nene said, looking at Sylia across the desk. "She's damaged."
"Yes."
"Drinks blood."
"Yes."
"Like Sylvie did for Anri."
"Yes."
"And she's imprinted herself on some bizarre fictional warrior group that does this too as a psychological crutch to get over an act she probably
finds heinous otherwise."
"That's my belief."
Nene looked at Sylia flatly for a minute. "And you want me to try to talk to her."
"Well, she's a geek with an obsession. You should be able to speak her native tongue," Priss noted from the nearby couch, getting a rude gesture
from the redhead.
Sylia, however, watched impassively until Nene sighed. "Fine. I'll do it. But I gotta figure out this stuff she's into first."
****
"Ifrit! Pull!" Nene shouted as she came through the teleporter, a pair of large books flying through the air.
The fae reacted on instinct, turning, tracking the motion, and letting loose with a single ball of explosive flame that quickly reduced both to cinders.
Blinking, she glanced at her lover. "....okay. What'd I just incinerate?"
Nene scowled darkly. "Some of the most depressing attempts at pretentious tripe I've ever had the displeasure to come across since Leon bought me that
boxset of End of Eva for Christmas because "you're into the whole giant robot thing, right?"."
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
Picking on
Twilight?
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''
-- James Nicoll
Close, but no.
Warhammer 40,000 is the target of Nene's immediate ire.
Twilight is just bad Mary Sue fanfic. WH40K is pretentious.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
"You seem bummed," Jim Temblor(Temporal Fault, not Faultline, he would note before anyone asked) noted, sitting down beside the young girl sitting on
their apartment's couch, legs curled up in her arms as she looked out the window, her eyes distant.
"...yeah," Jane Temblor, alias Rift Zone, noted softly.
The response was so unusually reserved for the normally perky(and snarky) young girl that Jim blinked slightly, sitting down across from her. "Want to
talk about it?"
Jane glanced at her brother, and for a moment, Jim realized that as cheery and flirty of a front as she usually put up, Jane was as prematurely aged as he was
by what they'd survived. She'd been too young, barely, to avoid drafting into Vanguard proper, but the minute her powers had manifested, she'd
jumped straight into the fray back home. And as a result, she'd seen the horrors of war first hand, had to grow up quickly to keep her sanity intact,
developing the necessary detachment from pain and suffering and death to survive.
He'd thought, after a while, that she'd allowed herself to relax when they got here, but had she seen something else? Something that'd....no. This
wasn't hiding pain behind a mask...she was worried.
Before long, she sighed, leaning back again in the same pose. "It's someone I met today....I guess, despite all the bad stuff back home, I never
thought anyone would be so..."
Jim waited patiently, as the young girl struggled to figure out how to put her words together. Annette'd always said that Jane saw things other people
didn't, because she was young enough not to take for granted what older people thought was a fact.
"....I know things were bad, but there's so much....craziness here. Not the criminals. You've said those were there before the Rikti. But the
people on our side. It's so crazy and all over the place. I met someone today that was fighting monsters made by the Rikti and she hadn't even been
trained. "Plausible deniability", she said it was, and that she'd been drafted. At least back home you didn't see people barely older than me
turned into "plausibly deniable" shit shields for no reason even they understand," she noted, eyes angry. Jim glanced at the floor, but
thankfully didn't see the tell-tale signs of her powers manifesting according to her emotions again. The first time she'd shown evidence of more
control than just solid stone, they'd had to douse her bed with a fire extinguisher.
"I look around, and there's so much, but....I don't know how exactly to help her...or any of them. I'm just one person, but everyone's
going so many directions at once that nothing gets conclusively done. For crying out loud, the TROLLS are still around!" she noted, throwing up her arms
in exasperation, before slumping against the couch. "...and I don't know where to start."
"I think you do," Jim noted, leaning back as his sister looked at him sharply.
"I do?"
"You don't know where to start. There's so many things, but only one you. You can't do them all....so do one thing at a time."
"But which one?"
"Well, whatever started this train of thought clearly seems like a problem to be looked into. Help her, and then move onto the next problem. If you go
tearing off in all different directions, you won't get anything done."
Jane considered it, before nodding, and James chuckled. "Just remember, as long as you're helping someone, that's all you need to do."
Jane nodded again, firmer, with a hint of resolve. "Because helping people is what heroes do."
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
Well that's a twist I never expected (Jim doesn't have a sister in cannon does he?)
But very neat none the less.
And as always you manage to raise more questions than you answer
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy
"Pardon me, 'scuse me, coming through -- HEY! OUTTA THE WAY!" Katy planted her fists on her hips and glared at the confused Hellions staring
back at her.
"Hey, it's a... cape?" one of them remarked doubtfully.
Katy looked at her watch and sighed, then keyed her comm. "Sorry, Terrence, you're going to have to try again. The LZ is cluttered, I won't get
a clean distance from this."
The Hellion who'd spoken cocked his head, puzzled. "What're you -- OOOF!" The words -- and consciousness -- were snatched from him as a
blur impacted him at about chest height, driving him back across the street to impact a warehouse with a sickening crunch. The blur, once it stopped moving,
turned out to be another Hellion. Katy trotted over to the pair, ignoring the other Hellions standing about, and dropped arrest beacons on them.
"Ready?" came Terrence Knights voice from her comm. She glanced around and nodded.
"Yep! I think you oughta try increasing the arc if you can. Say, another... two degrees, maybe. That last one wouldn't have cleared the warehouse,
even if one of his buddies wasn't in the way."
"Roger." There was a moments pause, then: "FORE!"
"You might want to move," Katy repeated to the still-confused group nearby. "You have about... eight seconds, I'd say, before he
lands."
This time, the projectile was conscious enough to be screaming, the noise Dopplered beyond regular pitch. It sounded like an incoming bomb, almost. The
Hellions standing around glanced at each other, then at the diminutive schoolgirl who was shading her eyes and peering up into the cloudless sky, then up at
the sky themselves...
... and scattered.
The incoming Hellion hit, cracking the sidewalk and bouncing across the street to fetch up against the fence next to the warehouse. Katy tagged him, then
raised Terrence on the comm again.
"Still not there, Terrence. Your trajectory is still too flat. If you're going to break the five-hundred-yard mark, you need some -lift-. Did you
read the Aerodynamic Properties of Hellions paper I prepared for you?"
"FORE!" was the response. Katy sighed and looked to the skies again.
--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs
@.@ I love you Spud. 10 million internets for the win and awesome.
Hellion golf, i like it and want to learn more
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