Drunkard's Walk Forums

With the departure of the grill, and conclusion of the picnic, it is back to business as usual. Here is the result of the match between Mag and Braende.

---

In a flicker of flame, Braende was standing inside the Legendary base. After a moment the disorientation of the portal wore off, and she headed down onto the
Dojo, where Mag stood waiting. She grinned and asked "Are you ready?" With a bow, Mag replied "Sure I am. Tell you what, if you can drop my
fields in ten minutes I'll owe ya one. Otherwise you can watch Gen this weekend and give me and the Misses a chance to vacation." Braende nodded in
agreement, and fire shot down to her hands, even as a wash of cold came over the area when Mag powered on his armor.

Ten minutes later, the spar was over. Mag was looking nonchalant, while standing in a small puddle of water. Braende was rather sweaty, and looking somewhat
disappointed. "Alright, you win, I can get the tip of the iceberg, but can't melt you." Braende conceded. "I gotta hand it to ya kid,
you're strong, but I've got 30 years in this armor. You can pick up Gen in the afternoon, and I'll even stock the freezer for you." chuckled
Mag.
---

The Master said: "It is all in vain! I have never yet seen a man who can perceive his own faults and bring the charge home against himself."

>Analects: Book V, Chaper XXVI

(Borrowing characters shamelessly. My apologies.)

The rapid-fire Spanish that echoed out of the Legendary base infirmary was angry, nigh incomprehensible, and uttered by a familiar masculine voice. It was
punctuated by grunts of pain and the occasional metallic "clunk" of something being tossed into a bucket. It was also loud. Terrence could hear it
from down the hall; in fact, it was the first thing he heard as the teleporter spun down. Walking towards the sound, he found Evangelia outside the infirmary,
brows furrowed in concentration. "Hey, Eva, what's going on? Is that Numero?"

The leader of the Legendary nodded. "He teleported in a little while ago, muttering in Spanish. He limped down to the infirmary, and he's been getting
louder and louder ever since."

"What's he saying?"

"I'm not sure. I took a semester of Spanish last fall, but Numero's accent isn't what I'm used to. I think I'm getting one word in
five. There! He just said something about ... daughters of ... something. I don't know."

Terrence listened for a minute. The Spanish was rushed, words flowing one into the other, with pauses only when there was a grunt of pain or an inhalation of
breath. "He sounds angry." Then, with realization dawning, "I know that word. I heard it in a movie. He's cursing."

"But ... Numero Catorce never uses profanity. He makes a point of it."

"He does, Evangelia," said Bella Fuego, coming around the corner with one of the mop buckets from the cleaning closet, filled with something.
"He tries to set an example worthy of his legacy. But he ran into the Knives of Artemis tonight."

"Ah," said Terrence. "Caltrops?"

There was a shout of pain, followed by a exclamation much louder than previous and the sound of something being thrown at the wall with great force. Bella
solemnly nodded. "Caltrops. Perdoname, mis amigos. You may wish to hold
your ears." She stepped into the infirmary. "Numero, I have the bucket of Bactine."

There followed the sound of a foot being placed in a bucket of antiseptic, and then a truly colossal scream.
Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com

"Good night, and may the Good Lord take a Viking to you."

bucket.. bactine..

OW OW OW OW OW OW.
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

Gah. Poor Eva, who is not the innocent people like to see her as, is still going to be shocked when/if she finds out all that he was saying.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

Quote: Bob Schroeck wrote:

---

Gah. Poor Eva, who is not the innocent people like to see her as, is still going to be shocked when/if she finds out all that he was saying.

Which is why Numero, when he does use profanity (which is extremely rare and he feels bad about it afterwards), generally does it in Spanish. His Spanish
is heavily accented, indicative of someone who attended public schools in Laredo, Texas, and should be almost totally incomprehensible to anyone who is not a)
a native speaker, b) gifted with languages, or c) familiar with the dialect. I figure Bella, given that she's older than she looks (I seem to remember
something about her being involved in the Spanish Civil War, which would make her close to 70), would fill at least a and c.
Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com

"Good night, and may the Good Lord take a Viking to you."

Quick Note bout Terrence.

In order to help him survive when he was dropped off in the fantasy world he now hails from, He was given the gift of tounges, He doesn't instantly know
the language but through several minutes of exposure to a language he will quickly learn and understand it. It doesn't mean He'll be any more
diplomatic..but at least He'll know when your insulting him or just cursing in general.

I never mentioned this before because I didn't think about it Till Ebony posted since I don't think there are any fic's up that have language as
an issue, I could be wrong and I missed something tho ^_^''

Mag stopped dead just inside the Dojo doorway. Terrence, right behind him, bounced. Catching himself, Terrence peered around Mag's armored shoulder, and
froze also. Mag slid to the side of the Dojo and stopped again, Terrence on the other side of the door. Silently, the knelt, watching the slender winged
Amberlee hovering in front of the kneeling Emet, a hand grinder busily sparking away on Emet's face.

Seeing the two tanks, Amberlee reached up and pulled an earbud out of her ears.

"Hi guys!"

"Uhm.. what ya doin'?" Terrence asked, puzzled.

"Emet's been a bit nearsighted lately, I'm polishing up his eyeballs." Amberlee replied, waggling her eyebrows and gesturing with the
grinder. Terrence shot a glance at Mag, who nodded, and tossed an Ouroboros portal onto the floor.

"Well, we were gonna spar, but we'll leave you to it"

Mag trailed off, then shaking his head, followed Terrence into the portal.

w
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

Detective Leon McNichol entered the temporary headquarters of the Special Investigations division of the PPD and stopped just inside the door.

"You know," he remarked sourly, "this hero business is a lot rougher than it looks from the outside."

HE-AT, seated at one of three desks crammed into the former storage room, looked up from her paperwork. "Statement: you should consider operating in a
group." She regarded him steadily for a moment. "Your solo tactics are not achieving maximum effectiveness."

Leon gave her a half-hearted scowl through the bandages covering one side of his face. "Oh, ha hah." He limped towards the coffeepot balanced
precariously on boxes of old files in the corner, leaning on a crutch.

"Council again?" asked the other man in the room, without looking up from the bit of tech he was fiddling with.

"Outcasts this time, actually," Leon replied as he reached his destination. He fumbled a cup off of the mug tree, then looked between it and the
coffeepot, pondering his next move. Finally, he transferred the mug to his left hand -- the one in the sling -- and picked up the pot in his right, balancing
carefully on his good leg. The crutch slipped out from under his arm and crashed to the floor. He sighed.

"Should've called for backup," Ryan said -- again with the absent air of a man whose attention is focused elsewhere.

"I didn't think I -needed- it. It was only a couple lousy punks in bad clothes. I used to arrest a half-dozen of those before breakfast!"

"Statement: you are facing opponents with metahuman and supernatural powers, not regular humans. Your former tactics are useless against these
opponents."

Ryan snapped the cover back on to whatever he was working on and stood. "She's right, Leon. You need to use your head, bring your 'A' game
to this." He grinned. "Have to admit, though, you did manage to do something nobody else has yet."

Despite his mood, Leon was intrigued. "Oh yeah?"

Ryan nodded. "Yep. That cute little nurse from the hospital in Steel called. You've got a date Friday night, if -- her words here -- if you stop
bugging her about it." Ryan grinned even wider. "Seems she thinks twelve visits in one day is excessive."

"I was simply being persistent," Leon proclaimed innocently.

"Yeah, sure." Ryan shook his head. "Anyway. I'm off. Oh, and, those upgrades will be ready for your gun tomorrow."

Leon nodded and waved absently as he hopped around to the third desk, trying to avoid spilling his coffee in the process. He crashed down into the battered
office chair with a groan.

"I'm just going to sit here for a minute, drink my coffee, and pretend I didn't just get my butt handed to me by jumped-up punks with delusions of
grandeur," he stated firmly.

The chair creaked and groaned. Leon froze with his mug halfway to his lips. "Uh-oh..."

The chair collapsed, dumping him backwards and drenching his chest with spilled coffee. "OW!"

"Statement: you need to be more careful."

--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs

The cafeteria-style tables in The Legendary's lunch room seem to groan under a spread of paperwork. Mag Flashlight, superhero, tank, devoted husband, sits
at the end of one line of tables, making notes on a clipboard as he pages through the stacks of paperwork before him. Scowling, he pulls the sheet of paper off
the clipboard and crumples it, tossing it absentmindedly over his shoulder, where a lithe green lizard swoops from the ceiling to catch it in her mouth.

Mag turns to the scaled figure, scowl still prevalent, and levels one sausagelike finger. "You're lucky. You're classed as a dependent. Do you
have any idea how much paperwork is involved in legally claiming expenses related to maintenance of a secret identity with the IRS? Especially one with a
secret dependent?"

Gen smirks, settling back on her haunches as she delicately rips shreds off the crumpled paper and gulps them down. Mag drops his hand and sighs.

"You make me envious sometimes, lizard. You really do."

Gen rises, stepping forward to pat Mag on the head, before streaking out of the lunch room towards the dojo. With another sigh, the armored figure turns back
to his tax paperwork.
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

secret dependents. *Snerk*
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy

Numero just files as a Professional Athlete. He is a luchador, after all.
Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com

"Good night, and may the Good Lord take a Viking to you."

And Lincoln is legally dead, therefore untaxable

--Sam

"...tall..."

"So, Serge, how goes the tailoring business?" Sylia asked, sitting across from the slickly dressed man as they ate in the restaraunt looking down on
Blyde Square.

"It goes well. Your suggestion to ask various heroes for protection from the Tsoo is keeping my store safe from their retaliation, and I constantly get
new orders. The only problem is this new thing that I cannot exactly....market, but keep getting requests for."

"Oh?" Sylia asked, taking a bite of her lobster. Given Serge was, technically, a competitor, his mentioning this must mean he really couldn't do
what they were asking for.

"Yes...there is this pattern many heroines have been asking me for, but I cannot. Icon has a reputation and such a slinky thing is....well, I do not mean
to cause offense but..."

"It's more something that my kind of operation can sell, without people wondering if we're catering to...lower fashion sense," Sylia smiled.

"Ah, we come to an understanding, Miss Stingray."

"Yes. Yes, we do. Do you have some design sketches?"

"Better than that...I have photos...."

***

"It'll never work," Priss said, looking over the designs on the computer as Sylia set up the training simulation in the tech room. "I mean,
there's almost nothing there! Why would anyone want to buy it?"

"That's why it'll be such a profit maker, Priss," Sylia noted. "The lack of fabric means it's cheap to produce but we can sell it in
a buyer's market."

"There's really that much demand?" Linna asked, still doing her pre-training stretches in her skinsuit.

"All that demand and more. I think it's primarily among a certain clientele..."

***

"So, what're you girls up to lately?" Silicon Sabre asked as she side swiped another couple Immunes surgeons. "Still hunting for that outfit
you mentioned?"

"Pretty much. B had a suggestion, but I'd as soon die as wear it in public," Valles noted, blasting a Praefectus. Braende snickered, setting
another on fire. "About the only thing we can agree on is some of these," she noted, nodding ahead to the captive Sybils. "I mean, I don't
get the difference. There's barely more to it..."

"It's the principle of the matter. That's authentic Cimeroran garb," Valles said as she blasted the last Legionari. "I'd love to be
able to see how it feels."

"You aren't the only one that I've heard that from," Silicon admitted. "I've been looking about, but nobody carries it."

"Tell me about it..." Valles sighed, absently shifting to Light Nova and blowing away an Engineer.

***

"Well, what do you think?" Sylia asked.

Lisa looked down at herself, then back at the mirror, twirling slightly and enjoying the feel of the silk against her skin. "It's....incredible. You
managed to replicate it perfectly. How'd you do it?"

"I asked one of the sybils after we defeated Romulus if I could have a set to impress an admirer. She seemed very amused by the concept, but accepted.
From there, it was just a matter of replicating the technique used in making the silk. The pattern was very simple."

Lisa looked back at her, grinning. "Oh, Terr's going to start drooling when he sees me in this. Rhea too. I don't suppose you have extra?"

"Oh, I have one for Rhea as well...I just figured you could probably....advertise for me, in return."

"Huh?" Lisa blinked, before it dawned on her. "Oh! You can't tell the others...."

"Because they might put it together. Yes," Sylia smiled. "However, between you and Rhea, no one will look at my shop twice as a potential hero
identity. If that's okay with you."

"Sylia, if I didn't get this for free, I'd still tell them," Lisa grinned. "There's a ton in the Legendary that wanted one of these.
I'll make sure to drop your name."

***

"....how many?"

"Two hundred orders. In the first hour," Sylia smiled.

Priss stared. "How much did you charge?" she asked in a voice that suggested she couldn't believe her ears.

"Time and effort. So....about $250 per piece. With a hero discount, of course, for those that're....unable to afford that. It's selling very well.
I expect the Sabres can expect a nice Christmas bonus from their mysterious employer..." she smiled, sitting back.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

yeay!

And now I realy want a Cim costume pack ^_^
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy

Quote: Evil Midnight Lurker wrote:

---

And Lincoln is legally dead, therefore untaxable




--Sam


"...tall..."

I can see the discussion with the IRS over that one. A) He's dead. B) He's a former President of the United States, and therefore, supposed to be
paid his salary as President in perpetuity until death (last I checked, it was around $200K per annum). But A prevents B, and A also makes any other earnings
difficult to file. I can see the Freedom Corps just telling the IRS, "Look, if you don't want to drop this, we're not responsible for the
accompanying ulcers."
Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com

"Good night, and may the Good Lord take a Viking to you."

Leaning carefully around the large boulder embedded in the tunnel wall the Arachnos Sodlier peered down into the chamber where the high priest S'Thaco was
holding court. There were a lot of snakes down there she thought.

One of the snakes near the entrance turned its head and Scenicus ducked back around the corner. The sudden cries of "Intrudersssss!" told her she
hadn't been fast enough, and she groaned. "So much for the element of surprise Shadow."

"Get ready," she said, and stepped around the corner, her rifle leveled.

A single long burst from her weapon sent snakes writhing to the floor as she walked it across their front line. Scenicus stepped forward, still firing, to
give her companion room. But even as she reached for a fresh magazine she realized there were no Widow darts being launched at the snakes.

"Shadow, whats the hold up?... Shadow!"

Scenicus turned and saw only a long, dark, empty tunnel. "Shadow!"

She turned back to her approaching enemies and rammed the magazine into place. "There are times, I really hate working for Arachnos," she muttered,
and then there was no more time for thought.

--

50 Things Hexane has learned since joining the Infamous

#20. I may not sing 'The Song that Never Ends' in Obsolete's presence.

I didn't mean to get DC'd on you.

I might point out though, that my Widow would probably be called 'Jas' or 'Jasmine', and could just as easily hidden to get more favorable
position (Since I can't change the fact that I did DC).
---

The Master said: "It is all in vain! I have never yet seen a man who can perceive his own faults and bring the charge home against himself."

>Analects: Book V, Chaper XXVI

I know you didn't mean to, but this was essentially my thought at the (brief) moment. I was about to charge into the main room, happened to glance at my
map and realized you weren't there. I thought it was sort of funny actually.

I went with Shadow because I wasn't sure how familiarly Scenicus should act with Jasmine.

--

50 Things Hexane has learned since joining the Infamous

#50 May not provide covert funding to red haired mad scientists from an alternate future reality.

--a. Not even if they dye their hair.

Inyme and the imp who'd only introduced himself as "Vengey" staggered out of the police van.

"Dammit, one of them got away," the imp growled. "Must've used a different route."

"It happens. Tactics can only go so far," Inyme said, checking her armor's integrity before activating its recall function, leaving her in the default jumpsuit she'd begun to adopt as "casual wear" when not on missions.

All of which almost went unnoticed by the imp, who was muttering to himself "All that pain for nuthin'....I'm goin' home for the night. T'anks fer the hel....lp, toots," he noted, eyebrows raising and wiggling as he caught sight of Inyme outside her armor.

Several dozen concepts floated through his mind, all of which subtracted what clothing Inyme had on now entirely and many of which didn't really require her consent to be pleasurable....until his mental imagery stopped suddenly.

If you continue thinking along those lines about me, I will reduce your mental state to that of a six year old girl, Inyme's voice echoed in his head, startling the imp.

"....you wouldn't. You're some kind of hero."

I'm no hero....I'm just doing my duty. My duty doesn't include letting myself be sexually harassed. Now get out of my sight.

The imp growled, before turning around and vanishing in a flash of brimstone. Inyme sniffed, sighting where he was mentally and delivering a long distance telekinetic boot to the hind end to speed him on his way before activating her teleport grid and heading inland. Maybe Doctor Delilah had located the next spot to strike to chase down this evidence she seemed convinced existed...
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

Good to see other telepaths are picking on on that trick. Quite a nice little short.
---

The Master said: "It is all in vain! I have never yet seen a man who can perceive his own faults and bring the charge home against himself."

>Analects: Book V, Chaper XXVI

From the Cutting Room floor:

TALES OF THE LEGENDARY: CREY'S FOLLY.

SCENE: An abandoned warehouse, filled with Crey goons. Chained to one wall is an older woman, LEDA FLASHLIGHT. In front of her, on a raised section, are
COUNTESS CREY and HOPKINS. Confronting them, in a cleared space in the crowded room, are MAG FLASHLIGHT and CYBERMAN 8.

COUNTESS CREY: Your vendetta against Crey ends here, Mag Flashlight! As does your life! Hopkins, deal with this nusiance!

HOPKINS: Indeed, Madam.

HOPKINS moves towards MAG, fists raised in a Marquis of Queensbury form. MAG turns to CYBERMAN.

MAG: It's time. I'll deal with Hopkins and the Countess, once and for all. Get Leda safe!

CYBERMAN nods once, then a startled look flashes onto his face as MAG snatches him by the front of his armor, and with a quick spin, throws him into the wall
next to LEDA.

CYBERMAN crumples to the ground, one arm trailing back up the wall, and twitches.

CYBERMAN 8: Medic!
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

*doubles over laughing at Wire's Post* Ohgod, thats halarious..I'm mentaly pictureing Cyber's face looking on in horror as he flew into the wall.
MAG:...oops

Lynna looked at herself in the mirror as she let her clothes shift back into something comfortable, collapsing in the old half torn easy chair that'd been in her "new" apartment when she'd been given it.

You seem troubled, the voice of her partner, M'kel, noted in her mind.

"I'm fine, M'k. The aches will go away."

That's not what I meant. Something about that...Peacebringer...disturbs you.

Lynna scowled at its tone. "She has a name. Valles."

And she's making you uncomfortable. I'd prefer not to deal with her at all if possible, but it has made your mind considerably more tranquil to occupy of late. If that's ending, perhaps we should take our leave of her.

"That's not it, M'kel. It's....we did something today."

I know. I was there.

"Not that....when we saw the Quantum in that Crey lab...."

You transformed and sent us right at it, M'kel acknowledged. I was quite surprised, but positively.

"...I didn't know the Dwarf form could take that shot, M," she said, looking at herself in the mirror.

...what are you saying?

"You're always getting on me about how I care too much about myself...is that what you were talking about?"

I don't understand the question.

Lynna sighed. "I was thinking there, M. But not about me. I...didn't want her to get hurt."

...so you've discovered what self-sacrifice actually means. With a Peacebringer. How dreadfully ironic.

Lynna frowned at the voice's amused tone. "Hey, I just didn't want her to get hurt. Don't read too much into it."

Of course not, Lynna. Staring at her as much as you did was a complete coincidence, M'kel agreed. Sarcastically.

"Hey, shut it, squidhead. I don't have to take this from you," Lynna growled.

Yes. I can see it's time we went our separate ways. Oh, wait.

"Hey, this is your fault anyway! I wasn't into girls before!"

I don't catch your meaning. We Kheldians have no innate sense of gender. Why would your sexual preferences have anything to do with me?

"There you go again, making that excuse. Same way you did when I noticed we were checking out the boss lady's butt that one time," Lynna scowled.

She's a Peacebringer. Why would I have any interest in her?

"Oh, do not START with me!"
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

Just one of the many reasons I'm having a blast with Scraps.

* * *

"This'll be interesting. We're going up against Malta."

Purrfect Scrapper's eyes grew wide. "Ooh, I've heard about them!" she cried into the communicator. "I can't wait!"

"Well, alright then," the voice on the other end replied. "Can you make it to Perez Park on your own?"

"No problem, I'll use the teleporters," Sammy replied. "See you in a minute!"

* * *

It was a rather gloomy day in Perez. A light rain had just finished falling and the clouds were still overhead, with cold gusts of wind whistling through the
trees. A group of heroes were gathered outside an abandoned office building on Hell's Highway, waiting for the last of their team to arrive before they
ambushed the Malta operatives they knew were within.

Net Sabre stood with arms folded, one foot tapping impatiently. "She IS coming, right?" she inquired.

"She said she was on her way. She was taking the teleporter from HQ." Cyberman 8 paused as a thought struck him. "What's her security
level, again?"

"Eight, I think. Why?"

"Has she been to Perez before? More importantly, does she know where the teleporter drops you?"

"... ummm...."

Cyberman 8 cocked his head suddenly. "Listen," he said. "You hear that?"

From far out in the forest, a faint noise could be heard. It was rapidly approaching, the sound distorted by the Doppler effect, and soon everyone gathered
there could make it out. It was a long, drawn-out, high-pitched wail.

".... eeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEPP!!"

Sammy appeared over the top of the wall surrounding the park proper, flames licking from the beat-up jump pack hastily strapped to her back, with balls of
lightning, green energy, and a persistent Clockwork trailing behind her. Her feet were still pumping madly in midair as the jump pack gave out and died with a
final pitiful hiccup of fire, and she landed running on the rain-slick edge of the patio in front of the office door.

The gathered group just had time to notice the startled expression on her face as her feet failed to find purchase on the tiles. She slipped, sliding right
past them and over the edge to land with a startled "Ooof!" on the asphalt below. There was a momentary silence, followed by a "Oh,
-nuts-!"

"... glad you could make it," Cyberman noted wryly as Sammy jumped up over the edge again and dashed past him, panting with exertion. Her tail stood
out straight and stiff.

At the edge of the platform, a Hellion suddenly appeared, jumping up from below with a sadistic grin. He faltered as he noticed the gathered heroes, but
didn't have time to retreat before a well-placed blast sent him sprawling back over the edge. Startled yelps and curses rose from below.

"Shall we?" Cyberman said, indicating the doorway, and blinked as Sammy dived through with a speed that might have rivaled his own (on a slow day).

From inside, her voice rang out in a wail. "This park -sucks-!"

--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs

Once again, Sammy is so damn adorable. I'm gonna have to put her in the next part of Message.