Drunkard's Walk Forums

Rev, I love the idea that they've filed the application for Alistair's PI license.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

Quote: Sofaspud wrote:

---

Nope, Sylvie (Nano) and Priss (Street) have yet to meet at all... and intentionally or not, the other Sabres have not once mentioned Street by actual name
in Nano's presence -- in-game or otherwise. I'm kinda surprised by that, actually, it's almost like a conspiracy... O_o

This is actually due to the usual secrecy that the primary Sabres are used to. Admittedly, while not as paranoid as "Members do not know each
other outside of this organization", Sylia's ID is very, very low key(For instance, Braende and V have bought stuff from her, but do not know who she
is. Lisa and Rhea(and Terr) however do know her). A few people know Nene's last name, but people have referred to her by first name while in armor.
Generally, I go with the fact that none of THEM want to risk stepping on that landmine before those two meet.

Quote: I went back and re-read it, and confirmed off-line with Ops -- it's Sylia. I is teh dum, I should've caught that.

This is an amusing story. See, back when I first rolled Sylia and Matrix rolled Priss to match(Nene and Linna were rolled second, by both of us),
I had no idea the concept would take off so...well, spectacularly as it did. (Y'all are nuts, and altitis addicts, btw.) As such, I had no idea that Leon
or Sylvie would be potentially around, and reading an old fanfic ("Scars") which I'd come across made a fun case for a Sylia/Priss dynamic. In a
fit of amusement, I tossed it into CoH Sylia's backstory, never expecting it to come up.

The inherent hilarity caused by Priss *having* a significant other when Leon inevitably hits on her dictated that I make this "hidden backstory"
open. But I couldn't just make it THAT easy to figure out.... =)
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

Leon stepped into the office, dodging a few piles of paperwork set on top of boxes and a stack of junk mail as he performed the elegant dance necessary to get
to his immediate supervisor's desk. HE-AT nodded at him to sit down. "Statement: I have been going over the paperwork of late and made a few
adjustments to our division for increased efficiency."

"What sort of changes?" Leon asked, sitting down comfortably in the office chair.

"Explanation: I've added several new teleport bays, and increased our recruiting margin. Introduction: Let me introduce you to your new partner.
Invitation: Come in, MACH II."

As a Paragon native of all of about a year, Leon was expecting a robot from the name. Given the name, he even expected some sort of speedster that he'd
have trouble keeping up with(unless they authorized him to use his bike on duty...). However, the heavy thud of footsteps belayed that notion as the enormous
machine ducked under the door and stepped in, coming to a respectful station keeping next to HE-AT.

"MOBILE ARMORED COMBAT HOSPITAL MARK II REPORTING FOR DUTY, SIR."

It was stainless alloy. It was bright white and red. It was the most insulting thing Leon had ever seen.

"I do -not- need a portable combat medic!" he said, sounding as aggrieved as possible. "Just because I had to medicomm a few times...."

"Statement: 47 times in the last 3 weeks," HE-AT cut him off perfunctorily. "Observation: in the short time you teamed with Registered Hero
Dosvydanya, a radiation specialist with healing abilities, your medicomm average usage was cut in half. Conclusion: a dedicated medic will raise your
efficiency by an estimated factor of 6.9."

"You're kidding. I'm expected to work with this refugee from the Crey combat catalog? It'll only slow me down."

The robot's optics refocused, looking down at him, before a booming electronic growl echoed out of its vocal speaker. "THIS UNIT IS FULLY CAPABLE OF
RAPID TRANSIT VIA DEPLOYABLE ROCKET BOOSTERS. COMBAT SITUATIONS ARE ALSO ACCOUNTED FOR VIA OFFENSIVE CRYO-WEAPONRY."

Leon almost jumped, but his inner sense of keeping cool prevented it. "Great. It sounds like someone turned ED-209 into a medical drone."

"THIS UNIT IS AUTHORIZED TO PROVIDE VALUABLE MEDICAL CARE, BY FORCE IF NECESSARY."

"Did the medic just threaten me?"

"THIS UNIT IS INCAPABLE OF CAUSING HARM VIA DIRECT DAMAGE OR NEGLECT TO ALLIED FORCES EXCEPT IN PURSUANCE OF THE OVERALL OBJECTIVE OR ON ORDERS FROM A
SUPERIOR OFFICER."

Leon massaged the bridge of his nose, positive that HE-AT looked amused despite her expressionless face. "This is not making me feel more
confident...."
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay

waste."

((this one popped into my brain last night and kept me awake for a good half-hour))

((Edit: Wiregeek here - too lazy to fire up my laptop so I'm pretending I'm @DJ w00t this morning))

Evangelia, teenage leader of The Legendary, perched morosely on top of a Council base wall in Striga Island. Staring blankly over the ocean, she mostly blended
into the shadows of the evening. The bright blonde hair stood out, though. Fortunately for them, the Council soldiers guarding this base were more incompetent
than most of their ilk, and were on the other side of the small compound warming themselves around a barrel fire. Wrapped in her thoughts, she didn't even
blink at a blue projectile landing in the midst of the crowd of zombies in the hollow near the compound. The glowing figure that resolved from that projectile
launched itself again, leaving crushed and frozen zombies lying on the ground as it leaped towards the wall, auras dropping away as it flew, until the steaming
form of a de-powered Mag Flashlight landed on the wall next to her with barely a sound from his landing.

Mag stretched, eyeballed the situation, and sat down on the wall next to Evangelia. When she didn't say anything, he grunted, and the two sat in silence
for a few minutes. Finally, he spoke.

"I could give you the whole line about having been there, having stared the darkness in the eye an all that." Mag said, in a level voice. "But I
don't think you need to hear it. You're doing a good job, and have a good team. Those two things will get you through your doldrums a lot better than
anything I _could_ say. You're doing a good job, kid. Don't worry about it."

Eva turned back to the gathering gloom of an increasingly dark Striga night, and pondered this. As a war wolf wandered into the hollow before them, and was
immediately set upon by the zombies gathered there, she nodded and looked up at the armored form beside her.

"You're right, you know. I've got a VERY good team."

Mag nodded agreement, and pointed off to the left. "Let's grab the ferry and hit Peregrine. The carnies are up to no good, and you _know_ how much fun
it is ruining their day."

Eva ventured a smile. It seemed to feel right, so she kept it on. Mag took a careful step away and his armors flared into being. Through the ice, he regarded
her with a level stare, then winked. The two figures shot off into the night, a blure of blue and a blure of gold.

Huh... What had Eva so depressed?

She's at least notionally 16 - there needs to be no other reason.

Amusement: Hahahahaha.

Praise: Very nice OpMegs.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With the last of the day's paperwork finished HE-AT stood up from her desk in the Special Investigation division's office space. She threaded her way
out through the piles of paper and storage containers that littered the floor and made for the main entrance. A couple of minutes later she phased into
reality in Atlas Park and activated her jump jets.

It was probably unnecessary, but she knew it was good practice to check up on the new recruits on their first day at the job. MACH II's transponder showed
that the medi-bot was approaching the zone's hospital and it took only few moments with the jump jets on full for her to catch up. HE-AT dropped from the
sky to land on the pavement next the to MACH II as he approached the duty personnel at the emergency room doors.

"Request: Preliminary report on first day of operation, please." HE-AT said.

Swivelling his head, MACH II turned his optics to regard her. "DESPITE THE DIFFICULTY OF THE TASK THIS UNIT HAS ACHIEVED ITS OBJECTIVES. TWO TROLL
SUPERADINE WAREHOUSES WERE RAIDED, ONE HOSTAGE RESCUED FROM THE COUNCIL, ONE CLOCKWORK RAID AVERTED AND ONE BANK ROBBERY FOILED. LEON MAC NICHOL DID NOT
REQUIRE MEDICOM EVACUATION, ALTHOUGH MINOR INJURIES WERE SUSTAINED ARRESTING THE BANK ROBBERS."

"Query: The injuries were treated?"

MACH II turned back to face the hospital staff, it's chest split and swung open revealing it's hollow, padded interior. A hollow, padded interior
currently filled with an outraged, and slightly crispy PPD officer. "TREATMENT IS ONGOING," the giant robot said.

--

50 Things Hexane has learned since joining The Infamous

36. When encouraging Yukiyo, do so from a distance.

a. While wearing a helmet.

b. It is possible to make an Oni cry.

Quote:She's at least notionally 16 - there needs to be no other reason.

I was about to ask myself until I saw this... after all, it's more or less the reason she has a black-and-bone costume and a Rularuu sword in one of her slots...
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

"We should really stop this...." Cyberman noted, wincing again as a red blur shot up over stacks of iron shipping containers and crashed down on the
other side."

"Kid's too damn stubborn to quit. She'll go the full ten minutes," Pooky noted. "Don't matter how outclassed she is, she'll go
the full ten, every time." This knowledge did not keep him from flinching as Nene was thrown into another wall, getting up shakily and tottering a bit
before she shook herself off and jumped in again.

Cyberman frowned at the screen. "....you said she held off Mag?"

"Emet too. Anyone could tell her it's okay that she sucks at this one fight, but she's got something to prove. Spunky girl, but as smart as she
is, she ain't too bright sometimes."

Net Sabre tumbled end over end, caroming through cargo crates like a pinball and slumping to the ground as the ticker recorded another point for Terrence, who
was looking increasingly sheepish as Nene pulled herself back up, again, and jumped at him.

Cyberman looked over at Pooky. "Before they finish up, you think you could teleport out and get som....oh," he said, as the imp tossed a bottle of
aspirin into the air and caught it again. "Right then."
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

Oaxaca was burning.

Rafael ran, trying to find a way through the winding streets of the city. The French forces were advancing, and General Diaz's men had been routed, Rafael
with them. The streets were full of people fleeing, with many of them rushing to get their loved ones and their valuables out ahead of the fires set by the
Emperor's artillery. The Captain had ordered the men to fall back as a squad, but a musket ball had struck him down, and they had run.

Now Rafael found himself lost among the burning buildings. The smoke and heat gave everything a strange, dreamlike quality. The sounds of combat filtered
through the smoke and rushing people as if from far away. Rafael knew he was in danger, but he could not urge himself to rush. All of the panic had been burned
out of him, by the fire and by the fight.

Fallen soldiers littered the street, from both the Mexican and French sides. He saw a French sergeant leaning against the side of a building, covered in blood.
The man looked exhausted to the point of collapse. As Rafael approached, he raised his bayoneted musket as if to defend himself, but after a moment, he lowered
it again and leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, too tired to fight. Rafael left him alone and moved on. Now was not the time for fighting, he
felt. Now was the time to get to safety.

"Ayuda por favor!" The voice was a woman. Rafael turned and saw her beckoning to him. She was beautiful, despite the soot and dirt that marred her
face and garments. She held a small child, a boy, to her with one arm as she pointed to a building with the other. "Senor, please. He is old and trapped.
Please help."

Rafael was exhausted. He was bloody. He was scared. He had dropped his musket some streets back, and only held the Captain's saber, mostly out of some
reflexive duty to report his death back to General Diaz's staff. He had no wish to jump into a burning building after some woman's foolish old father
who hadn't the sense to flee from a burning building. He turned to say so to the woman, but his gaze was trapped by the wide dark eyes of the child. Eyes
that seemed to silence all arguments and protests that he had summoned forth. Idly, a small corner of his mind noticed that the boy had a bloody bandage
wrapped around his chest, and that his hands and feet were covered in blood as well.

Wrenching his gaze free of the boy's, he said to the woman, "The smoke will kill us both, senora, if I do not have something to protect me."
Wordlessly, she pulled the scarf covering her dark hair from her head and handed it to him. It was a fine piece of cloth, well made and dark green in color. A
rain barrel stood nearby, miraculously intact. Rafael soaked the cloth and wrapped it around his face. For a moment, he thought he could smell frankincense on
the cloth, but then a cloud of smoke blew past him and it was gone.

With a final look at the woman, and more so the child, Rafael went up to the building. The roof and one of the walls was on fire, and smoke leaked from around
the door. Before he could lose his nerve, he shouldered the door open and charged in.

It was dark; it was hot; it was smoky. Rafael could hardly see, let alone tell where the old man was. He didn't know how he found the supine figure, maybe
it was a faint cough or maybe the a familiar shadow. He also didn't know how he got back out of the house, only that when he became aware of his
surroundings, he and the old man were back at the rain barrel, burned but alive.

"G-gracias, senor," said the old man.

"Don't thank me," said Rafael. "Thank your daughter and grandson."

"Senor," said the old man, "I have no daughter."

"Then who is--?" Rafael turned and pointed at where the woman and her child had been standing, No one was there, and the building they had stood next
to was ablaze and almost collapsed. Rafael fingered the scarf around his neck for a moment, confused, but shook his head. "Come along, old man," he
said. "The French are here, and we need to get to safety."

The full identity of the first man to wear La Mascara Verde - the Green Mask - is not known, only that he was a soldier in
Porfirio Diaz's army during the Franco-Mexican War and that he obtained the mask during the Battle of Oaxaca. El Hombre en la Mascara Verde was seen in
several conflicts during the war, occasionally turning the tide, but more often arriving in time to save innocents caught up in the fighting. He was, by all
accounts, a normal soldier, attributing his luck and fighting skill to the Virgin Mary, who he claimed had given him the green scarf that he wore around his
neck and as a mask to protect him from smoke. His final fate is unknown, although there are mentions of him in the annals of several now-defunct Mexican
churches from the period. Later wearers of La Mascara Verde cite him as the first of their line, although none of them claim to be related to him, and refer to
him as Numero Uno.
Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com

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

"No," Valles said, firmly.

"Come on, V...." Braende cajoled back

"No."

"It'll be fun!" Lynna added from her spot on the armchair that she'd informally adopted as "hers" whenever she came over to their
apartment.

"No. Not gonna happen," V said, again trying to be firm, but it was clear the united efforts of her girlfriends was making her waver. "It's
too exposed, and besides, the water around here is cold this time of year..."

Lynna glanced over at Braende, a flicker of informal body language passing between them. They weren't exactly the closest knit bedfellows personally, but
when it came to talking V into some fun, they understood, aided, and abetted each other perfectly.

"We're not going to go anywhere public," Lynna explained. "There's a ton of private lagoons the rich folks have for the winter....that
they never use."

"And if I'm going to be swimming around you two....when you're both not wearing a stitch? That water's not going to stay cold for long,"
Braende giggled.

"Well...." Valles said, wavering, before sighing. "As long as you get permission so we're not trespassing."

Lyn and B exchanged a high-five as V put a hand to her face. "I'm going to regret this...."

***

A splash was followed by a gasp of lost breath as V hit the water, coming up arms clinging to herself. "Brr! That's freezing!"

Lynna looked down, a clearly amused look on her face. "Yeah, I can tell from here," she noted.

V looked down and then scowled. "You two did that on purpose."

"Pretty much," Braende noted, before diving into the pool herself. V noticed the water warm up almost immediately to comfortable levels as Lynna swam
over and curled around her.

"C'mon, it's not that bad. No one's around to see us."

Valles took a breath, then let it out, letting the warm water soothe the tenseness in her muscles(as well as the proximity of her girlfriends), before smiling
slightly. "I guess you're right. Still, I do wonder how you got this place."

"Oh, I have my ways of convincing people," Lynna noted, wrapping her arms around V's waist.

"Nothing illegal?" V wondered, starting to worry.

"Not in the least..."

**Yesterday**

"Master Johnson?"

"Yes, Hemphrey?" Alan Johnson asked, looking up at his butler. Hemphrey nodded in acknowledgement.

"A Madame Lynna Mason would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience."

Johnson froze for a second, before nodding. "Bring her in," he said, keeping his voice even and casual.

"Very good, sir."

Privately, Johnson fretted. According to the Masons, their daughter was away at a boarding school in Europe, rather than continuing to send her to private
schools in the increasingly dangerous Paragon neighborhoods. Even the daughter of a Council Adjutant couldn't expect special treatment from the Family or
the Tsoo. For her to be here now...he calmed himself as she walked in, an odd mixture of the grace of a proper lady and the languid stroll of a common street
punk. She smiled at him, but he was certain he noted a predatory cast about her features. She wanted something.

"Lynna, I'm surprised to see you. Your parents said you were in Europe still."

There was a flash of...something in her features, confirming his belief that the story was not as joyous and family friendly as the Masons had implied. Perhaps
they'd gotten tired of spoiling the girl rotten. "Yes, well, it's fall break, so I'm back here, visiting old friends. Speaking of which....do
you still have that old lakehouse out on your south properties?"

Johnson didn't let himself breath out too heavily. Lynna hadn't changed. She wanted something simple and was using her family's pull instinctually
to get it. Nothing major. "Of course. You want to take a few friends out there, go fishing or something?"

"Yeah, pretty much. We won't need an escort or anything. My friend's providing the transportation. But if we could just get a key or
something..."

"Of course."

"And um...if you could....not record the security cameras? It kinda creeps V out," she said, as if imparting a grave secret.

Johnson smiled slightly. V...hm. "I don't know....I trust you, but I don't know your friends."

"I'll vouch for them...I'd not bother asking but...well..." she said, seeming reluctant.

"If you have a reason, it's okay to tell me. I promise to keep it confidential." Until I know how I can use
it.

"Well....V's....my girlfriend," she finally said, seeming nervous.

Johnson looked at her for a moment, then sighed internally. The Mason's little gem was a lesbian. Like he could get much out of that. "Ah. I
understand. You want privacy at night. Certainly. Tell Hemphrey I've okayed it, and he'll get you a key and a security override card."

"Thanks, Mr. Johnson," she grinned, stepping over and hugging him slightly. She darted out of view, as Johnson rolled his eyes at her back and
wondered why he'd gotten so in a ruffle about that girl. Her parents made certain she was never involved in the intrigues around the upper echelons of
Independence society...

**The Present**

Lynna smiled as she rested on one side of V in the mammoth bed the master bedroom had contained. Talking them into staying the night had been easy, especially
on a weekend. And tonight had been worth it. After she and B'd gotten done with her, Valles would probably sleep in till noon. Cuddling in closer and
entwining her fingers in a sleeping Braende's on top of V, Lynna closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

Hee. That's good stuff.

First thought, though?

Rhea: *tugs on Terr and Lisa's arms, points at post, gets big puppy-dog eyes*

*grin*

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

Just a short piece here comming from one of Ops Posts, and discussion of Spud. The Linna I reference here is Swift
Sabre, as opposed to Dance Sabre, not played by me.

--

With a muffled cry, Linna awoke in a sweat. She had nightmares like this plenty of times before, but this time it was different. She knew it was over, and
dealt with but couldn't help but worry about it happening all over again here.

She tried to take a few deep breaths and get back to sleep, but it was to no avail. She might doze a moment but would be jerked awake at the afterimages of the
horrid dream. She decides to stir herself enough for what she knows will be comforting.

She slips out of her bed, and walks quietly across the room to the other bed. Shivering slightly in the cool night air and her thin nightie, she subtly slides
under the covers and cuddles up against the still sleeping Silvie. The warmth of her body and gentle sounds of her breath are infinitely soothing to her, and
just before she drifts off to sleep, Silvie's arms wrap around her in a gentle hug. They both fall back into sleep with a happy sigh.
---

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

A solitary figure strolled into the Kings Row Community Centre. Nodding at the boy on the front desk, she slipped down the side corridor and towards one of the
small workout rooms in the back of the centre. She was now a familiar sight at the centre, appearing on a somewhat regular basis. It would be easy to dismiss
her of little or no account, seeing as she was slightly shorter then average, with a petite build, and a paleness of skin which marked her as not getting
enough sunlight recently. Only her oddly glowing eyes, metal jaw, and the fact that she was seemingly transparent yet solid, indicated she was more then
normal, and was indeed a 'super hero'. But what's one more meta in a place like Paragon City?

Seeing as there was no one else around at the time, Jack decided to catch her as she made her way out of the female change rooms. Now she was out of her usual
well worn leathers that she wore when 'working' as she once put it and clad in some light 'kung-fu' style workout cloths.

"Hey Jelidan," Jake called out, noticing that as usual she was moving with that freaky self confident poise that all elite swordspeople tend to have.
Turning and nodding at him, Jelidan smiled gently.

"You're usual training stuff got moved into the back room. Sorry about that, we needed the space at the time. You know how them festive types get at
times" All he got in response was a slow nod and grin. That and slight interruption to the eye glow as it changed color. There were times when Jelidan,
would be very silent and demure. Apparently this was one of them.

"But seeing as this place is empty at the moment you can use one of the side rooms for your training. You won't have anyone asking for pointers
today." Again, another slow blink, grin and nod, and then Jelidan bowed slightly and turned and moved quickly to collect her training gear. Jack returned
to his placed by the front desk but after a few seconds decided that it was much more entertaining to watch Jelidan train then sit on desk duty. Besides what
could possibly go wrong?

Noting the room that Jelidan was using, Jack as quietly as possibly slipped into it. Thankfully she was still setting up, with a somewhat distracted air about
her. It was almost as if she was talking to someone even though her lip and jaw wasn't moving. Through-out the room she had set-up as selection of
projectors and transmitters that would on command, generate life-like 'combat-dummies' each with a particular attack style, randomized of course. The
attacks from the 'combat-dummies' were detected by the combat harness that she wore under her clothes, so it was basically an advanced form of
laser-tag. Even distracted though she was, it was still a sight to see her go through the paces. There was also a clear section of the room set aside for her
to do various warm-ups and meditative excises.

Jack watched her in awe as she tossed some transmitters over her shoulder without looking, settled, squared her shoulders as the room became alive behind her,
did her trademark focus punch, and then *flew* a blur of action.

Had Jack or anyone else for that matter, been around and able to telepathically listen in to what Jelidan was saying it would have been very surprising for
them to hear. That they had been able to hear in the first place would have surprised Jelidan, for she knows her mind tends to be like quicksilver. For as far
as she knew, the precise conversations that she had with her blade were between her and it.

-What are we doing back here-

-Its called sparing, training-

-We should be out there hunting evil-

-Practice Practice-

-Practice makes perfect-

-And in control you can better serve those you
protect-

-Dodge-

-The boy is over there-

-And cue the whispers of forbidden knowledge-

-Not all knowledge is forbidden-

-Some door are better off closed-

-Ignorance is bliss-

-He holds a key to future beyond telling-

-If he survives to his next birthday-

-Left
Slash-

-IF he survives... what do you know?-

-Nothing and everything-

-Ok... what will get him?-

-Do not meddle in the dealings of Fate and
Destiny...-

-...and don't mess with timelines-

-You think that this is the alpha timeline?-

-Its not?-

-You could have told me that-

-You weren't ready-

-Menders seen to that-

-Not to mention PsychoChronoMetron-

-Nor the messing around that others have done like the Oranbegan-

-The time from before Cimerora, time as be bent and looped, and never
recovered-

-After your dealings with the knowledge about those Ghosts could you have coped-

-Beware that which lurks in the darkness, those that
gather in secret-

-An outpost in the storm-

-Shards of Orange-

-Blossoms of Fire-

-Wisps of Ice-

-Vines of Gravity-

-It devours from within and has already begun.-

-Temple Strike!-

-When the eyes and the Nexus converge, the storm will
break.-

-When Darkness falls and Dark becomes Light-

-Which side will you stand for?-

-Stop talking in riddles!-

-Then know this
Grasshopper, to time to chose is upon you. Use your skills wisely, wield your weapon well. Decide your abilities to use. Honor is to be maintained. The time
for playing and tomfoolery is over.-

-Invaders!-

-Boomdeyada-

-Five will die, Four to survive, Two combine, One
chance -

Jack was thoroughly engrossed in the display of Jelidan's abilities. It was a good way to 'waste' an hour or two, particular as he didn't have
any abilities himself. He was just an average kid, doomed to be normal for the rest of his life. Surely something would have happened to him by now if he was
going to be super. Thus he got his enjoyment watching metas train, and cheer them on when the whooped some goon's butt.

It surprised him when all of a sudden Jelidan stopped mid-pattern against the latest set of 'combat-dummies'. She had finished off the ones she called
'Porcy rec' (pronounced porky racks) and was now onto the 'bad clowns'. Jelidan had stopped with her blade poised mid-stroke as if hitting a
solid slab of dermacrete instead of thin air and was glaring intently at a spot beyond the roof of the building, as if she could burn a hole through the roof
with just the power of her anger alone.

It was then that the klaxons sounded, startling Jack even more. He glanced away from Jelidan, his head spinning trying to get a fix on where exactly the sound
was coming from. Oddly the klaxon in the centre was out, and not working, so the sound was coming from outside.

"Rikti!" Jelidan ground out in her soft voice. There was a flicker of movement outside the corner of Jack's eye as he swung his head back to
Jelidan. She had changed. Gone was her workout outfit, there stood Jelidan, defender of the city, clad in her usual leathers, almost quivering in anger. As the
flash of light from where her blade caught the overhead light faded, Jade saw that the color of her scabbard had changed color. Indeed, it looked like the
work-out clothes were tightly wrapped around it. Thinking back, Jack realised that it had been the same color as her outer jacket, so it must have been wrapped
around it previously as well.

Jack blinked, and then Jelidan was gone. She had not teleported, as there was a rushing of wind to mark her passing. Rather, she had run out of the room and
was now making her way out of the centre. She was running that fast, listening that intently to the whisperings of her blade.

Her voice floated back to Jack on the breeze, "Get to the shelter! And fix that Klaxon!"

The Ritki were coming...

But so was Jelidan...

The paperwork landed on Nene's desk with a thwack, and she looked up to see the normally stoic face of HE-AT, her cybernetic boss, creased into a frown.
The abnormal sight raise Nene's eyebrows, and she quickly scanned the file in front of her.

"Concerned Statement: This Freakshow elite, 'Sp33d Fr3@k', has caused sufficient damage that PPD management has authorized excessive force in his
apprehension."

Nene cranked her eyebrow even further, and looked up at HE-AT. "Why's that such a big problem, H-E? We've had two of those orders come in this
week alone.."

HE-AT maintained her concerned expression, and mutely pointed at a line on the file in Nene's hands. Nene followed her prompt, and her eyes widened at the
amount of zeros in the 'damage caused' category. "I.. I think I see the problem now."

"Statement: Even with medical assistance, I do not believe detective McNichol can accomplish the apprehension of this fugitive."

Nene nodded, her brow furrowed in thought. Her face smoothed, and she gestured towards the phone. "Then I think we need some backup."

-----------------------

Terrence Knight, Scourge of Cimerora, General (Commanding) of the Lady Grey Task Force, Lead Tank to The Legendary, Heralded as the Angry Death by the Banished
Pantheon, spoken of in hushed tones by the Freakshow, rolled over, flailing his arms in the air as the blankets bound his legs to Lisa's, causing his
momentum to twist him off the mattress. As his face sailed towards the floor, Terrence managed to grab his cellphone, bringing it with him on his short
downward trip.

"Hihi, Terrence-chan! I hope I didn't wake you, but I need some help!" Chirped the bright voice of Nene Romanova. Terrence shifted the phone
slightly and tried to focus his thoughts.

"Whrt hnrgle nrrd?" he managed.

"Uhm.. I've got a little Freakshow problem, and this time, when I say 'excessive force' is authorized, I mean it.. And I've got a plan
that shouldn't destroy _too_ much of Skyway.. "

Terrence blinked. If the little redhead was talking that casually about destroying sections of Skyway, this was likely to turn out to be more interesting than
another afternoon spent on the Parapets of Rommy's stolen castle...

-----------------------

"No, d00d, you don't seem to understand what I'm saying here - if you don't come up with those leg upgrades, you'll never have to worry
about your inventory again!" Sp33d Fr3@k slammed the phone down hard enough to shatter the glass desk he was sitting at, which exploded into shards and
splinters. His raucous laughter stopped short as a quiet chirp came out of his pocket, and he slipped a compact radio into his hand, turning it up and
listening intently. "So the heroes think they can send a pathetic team of low speed losers to deal with the Sp33d Fr3@k, that's awesome!" The
radio went back in a pocket, and the Freakshow speedster shot out of his ersatz office, blasting through the abandoned industrial building.

-----------------------

Amberlee floated in the zero-g meditation chamber, folded into a full lotus, her wings moving just enough to caress the air. The soft sound of her breathing
was the only sound audible in the heavily shielded chamber, deep in the protected core of the Legendary base. Far away, under one of the countless overpasses
in Skyway City, Lord Admiral Emet glared down at the stocky figure of Mag Flashlight, who was watching Terrence. Terrence, for his part, was happily pounding
Lost, averaging 2-3 of the massive mutants downed with any given blow.

"I hate the wait." Emet grumbled, in a voice like a concrete truck inside another, larger, concrete truck. "How can we even be sure the little
jerkoff is gonna run through here?"

Mag looked away from Terrence's joyful mayhem, craning his neck to look up at Emet's towering height. "We can't be certain, but Nene says he
should, and HE-AT backs her up. Leon's got a PPD response force in the wings to be rapid deployed most anywhere, and besides.. we're just that good.
It'll be fine." Emet shrugged it's massive shoulders, then turned away from Mag to watch Terrence, who was almost out of Lost.

As the last of the mutant homeless slipped through the Medicomm network towards the Zig, Terrence turned and strode towards the other two waiting tanks. Just
shy of the pair, he stopped momentarily, and a blur flashed in front of him, resolving into Cyberman 8 and SSC Thrust, both rotating around a lamp post to shed
excess momentum.

"We're ready." Cyberman stated, and Thrust nodded beside him. Mag gave them a thumbs up, and the two speedsters shot off into the labyrinthine
depths of Skyway City. Terrence hopped up to sit on the concrete wall that Emet was leaning on, and angled his gaze at Mag.

"They're ready. We're ready. Anyone heard from the Inside Team?"

"Not yet. I'll check." Mag replied, and keyed open the Coalition radio channel. "Quicksilver, Mister Catorce, are you folks ready?" A
moment passed, and then a voice crackled back over the radio link.

"Most assuredly so. This bright-eyed young lady and myself are ready to do our part to bring holy Justice to this demented Freakshow!"

"Alright, then, we're just waiting for Nene's call"
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

The final unit signed into the commnet as ready, and Nene Romanova flipped over to the second channel on her radio control. "Legendary, this is Net. Spectrum is Green. Repeat, Spectrum is Green." Nene released the transmit button, and sat back to watch the situation unfold.

The situation opened with Numero Catorce, who punched the warehouse door clean off it's hinges, sending it tumbling into the depths of the building. "Come out, you snivelling curs, and face the Kick of Justice, if you dare!" Numero bellowed, and charged into the darkness. Quicksilver Nano giggled and powered up, her incandescent glow backlighting Numero as she charged after him. An outside observer would have heard screams and electric blasts echoing out of the warehouse doors, as the pair chewed their way through the Freakshow.

Quicksilver laughed outloud as she punched a Freakshow, flipping it over the top of a crate, and Numero kicked it back towards her. The Stunner Captain crumpled to the floor, senseless, and the lambent figure slapped a tag on him. As he vanished, Quicksilver peeked her head around the crate. Finding Numero in the act of tagging his Freak, she leaned up against the box and waited.

"I think that's the last of them before the final door, Mr. Catorce." She said, curtsying.

Numero regarded her gravely, and bowed. "It is my honor to work with you, Miss Nano, I consider you a friend. You, you call me Numero."

Quicksilver giggled and curtsied again, and the two of them charged off towards the final door. As it rolled up, Quicksilver dodged backwards, knocking Numero to the ground as a crackling blur streaked across the opening, bouncing off the doorframe to resolve itself into a Freakshow. His tall, lanky form stretched even further by the cybernetic legs crackling with energy. Numero sprang to his feet with a roar, and lunged forward with a punch. The Freak blurred out of the way, stopping at the far side of the doorframe, leaning casually against it.

"You punkz are gonna have to work a lot harder than that to lay hands on TEH SP33D FR3@K!!1" he declared, posing. As he beat his fist against his chest in manly rage, Quicksilver Nano came up from behind him, and favored him with a solid kick between his cybernetic legs. As he crumpled to the floor, crying out in agony, Numero met him with a solid punch to the gut, which bounced him back into the wall. Sp33d managed to catch himself against the wall, and pushed off, blurring into the corridors. "Nice try, lo5erz!" echoed from his retreating form. Numero grinned at the departing figure, and started after him at a steady, ground-eating lope, Quicksilver's luminous form close behind.

-----------------------

Emet closed its fist again, powdered conrete leaking out from between its fingers. Turning to Mag again, Emet shook its head.

"This is taking too long, they should have herded him out by now." Emet intoned. Mag shrugged.

"Hey, all I'm here to do is slow down some hyper jackass, I don't have anything to do with the plan, and anywa-"

Mag's complaints were cut off by the Coalition channel opening up. "Is Numero. Sp33d Fr3@k is fleeing. Is headed for front door. Catorce out."

"Cyberman here, vectoring to intercept. Out."

"SSC Thrust acknowledges. Incoming. Out."

Mag stared up at Emet, one eyebrow lifted as he powered on his armor. Emet finally shrugged, and turned away to poke Terrence with one stone finger.

Terrence jerked upright, grabbing Emet's finger with his left hand and levering himself across it to smash a wild haymaker into Emet's skull, burying his fist over an inch deep into the rocky surface. Emet calmly reached up with its other hand, peeling Terrence's clenched fist from around its finger, and patted him on the side of the face. "Wake up, grumpy pants." Emet pronounced, before pulling Terrence's fist out of its skull and brushing the chunks of rock off of it. "Catorce and Quicksilver flushed the dude out of his hole, Cyber and Thrust are setting him up." Emet poked at the rapidly filling depression in the side of its head. "Geez, remind me to wake you up with a stick next time."

Mag shook his head as Terrence rubbed his eyes. Emet disappeared in a flash of portal energy, and Terrence vaulted off the wall, shaking his coat into place.

"We ready?" Terrence asked, cracking the stiffness out of his bones joint by joint.

"Yup." Mag replied, slouching sideways and eyeballing sightlines. "Right about.. here, I think." Terrence slowly looked over the road and pathway they stood on, paying close attention to sight lines and curbs.

"I do think you're right. You want the first hit?"

"Sure. You'll get the last?"

"Better believe it, old man." Terrence said with a chuckle. Mag hunkered down and brought up the map on his HUD.

-----------------------

Cyberman 8 felt joy pulsing out of his metal heart as he broke the sound barrier and kept accelerating, streaking across Skyway City at his rarely used top speed. Slowly drawing away from SSC Thrust, he curved out to the left, dropping a waypoint for her off to the right. She followed it, and Cyberman pushed harder, drawing a line of fire across Skyway City. Numero Catorce's icon on his HUD pulsed, and Cyberman spared a moment's worth of attention to open the channel.

?

5 seconds, friend Cyberman.

K

Cyberman sent the info on to Thrust, and the two reduced speed dramatically. They were still travelling well in excess of Mach, however, when Sp33d popped out of the ruined warehouse door. Cyberman hit him high, knocking him off his feet as he blasted by, and Thrust hit him low, bouncing him face first into the wall of the building he had just ran out of. Sp33d recovered, and streaked off into the deepening twilight gloom. Cyberman felt a grin splitting his face as he accelerated again, caroming off a wall and began the first run in this high speed cat and mouse.

-----------------------

Mag shuffled his feet as he watched the HUD, digging in and fine tuning his position. Cyberman and Thrust were operating at full unlimited speed tonight, thanks to PPD's Excessive Force authorization. They drew lines across the map like strategic plots, blasting back and forth across Sp33d's path, herding him towards the one place he shouldn't go. Mag squatted deeper as Sp33d made the final turn, and flew down the road towards him. Mag surged to his full height with a roar, sinking one armor clad fist into sp33d's stomach. The massive momentum of the Freakshow speedster shoved them both backwards a full ten feet, Mag's boots scraping sparks off the pavement. Terrence came out of nowhere in the gathering gloom, roaring his rage as he blasted the Freak into the air with a massive uppercut. Sp33d was on a path to make an easy twenty feet of vertical distance, when a flash of portal energy and a stone foot, slamming down onto his chest, changed his trajectory for the worse.

As he hit the ground and bounced, once, Sp33d was met by Cyberman and Thrust, coming in reversed this time, with Cyberman knocking the already-senseless Freak asprawl, and Thrust dropping in with an overhead strike that crushed him into the asphalt. Emet touched down with surprising grace, landing from a teleport between Terrence and Mag, who were bookended by Thrust and Cyberman in a semicircle around the downed Freak. Sparks dribbling from his tattered legs and overloaded cybernetics, Sp33d pushed himself to his knees, and looked up into the merciless masked face of Numero Catorce. The runic patterns on his mask and tattoos on his chest seeming to crawl in the flickering light given him by Quicksilver Nano, Catorce looked down on the crippled Freakshow and, shaking his head, smashed him into the ground.
Quicksilver Nano slipped around the luchador, and planted one armored boot in the small of Sp33d's back. As the Freak pushed himself up yet again, she pushed him back down, and slapped a transit tag on him. With a silent sigh, Sp33d Fr3@k slipped into the medicomm network, bound for the Zig.
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

NICE!!!

Love the depiction of Cyberman and SSC Thrust there! The whole coordinated Speedster thing is just amazing. And C8 gets to break the sound barrier! Whee! The
tankers getting their final licks in... owwwtch!! Bad day to be a Freakshow! (grin)

Nice. One observation: Despite his Hispanic origins and occasional lapse into Spanglish, Numero Catorce was born and raised in the United States. He speaks
English as a native. He just speaks Spanish as a native as well. He generally doesn't talk like a bad Russian spy heavy. That's Thibor.
Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com

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

Ebony: something I've noticed, and I think is intentional, is that Numero speaks very proper American English. More specifically, he tends to refrain from
using contractions.

"I am sorry, I cannot."

vs

"I'm sorry, I can't."

Is this accurate, or just a coincidence?

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

Quote: Sofaspud wrote:

---

Ebony: something I've noticed, and I think is intentional, is that Numero speaks very proper American English. More specifically, he tends to refrain
from using contractions.




"I am sorry, I cannot."


vs


"I'm sorry, I can't."




Is this accurate, or just a coincidence?

Yes. Numero speaks very formally most of the time. He keeps very proper English and Spanish usage. He doesn't curse (there are exceptions),
and especially doesn't take the Lord's name in vain. He's a bit fussy about that one; he'll stop a conversation to ask you not to do it.*
It's part of his thing.

Roberto Sifuentes, on the other hand, speaks like any barrio native, complete with contractions, slang, and profanity,
despite having a bachelor's in Social Work (minor in Theater) from Texas A&M Brownsville, and being a qualified motorcycle mechanic. The folks in Kings
Row like 'Berto; he's a nice boy, if a little solitary. Still, he does his share at the Community Center when he's not off on his motorcycle,
touring New England. The only time he speaks formally is when talking to his priest, or when he's on the phone with his Tia Beatriz.

Of course, the proper and formal speech is an act. It allows 'Berto to take off the mask and relax. Any Legendary member who has spent time in the Row may
have seen 'Berto, teaching kids how to play futbol at the park or helping with the saints' festivals in the
neighborhood.

(* - I actually know a woman who does this. A friend's mother; she stopped a D&D game dead to ask us to stop.)
Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com

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

Battered, beaten, but triumphant, the small squad of heroes made their way out of Lord Recluse's sanctum, not paying much heed to the Longbow swarming in
to secure and cuff the monarch of the Rogue Isles with power inhibitors and other restraints. The heroes had few illusions about how long he would remain in
prison, but for now, the fact was that he'd been stopped.

Space Mage yawned and dropped out of the sky to slump onto Emet's wide shoulders as the group passed the wreckage of several Arachnos fliers, the
unconcious bodies of hundreds of elite Arachnos guards, and finally reaching the central hallway, where the Patrons of Arachnos were similarly being
restrained. Ghost Widow, for her part, looked at them as they passed, her expression unreadable. Perhaps it was irritation, or was it weariness as she was
herded into an anti-phasing chamber to hold her? Scirocco gave no resistance as he was taken into a mobile cell, and Black Scorpion and Mako had been beaten so
senseless that both were still unconcious, even as Longbow techs fitted the latter with a muzzle and the former with a restraining bolt that shut down his
armor.

However, as they passed by the last two, Silicon Sabre stepped away from the group, walking over towards Mako and the Longbow Wardens that saluted as she
approached. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"

"Not really...do you mind if I take...something of a souvenier?" she asked.

"Well, I don't suppose it'd be a big deal, as long as you don't hurt him...more..." the Warden said, looking down at Mako. Sylia smiled,
bringing up a gauntlet as an energy blade snapped into place. The Warden blinked as Silicon made a quick, practiced swipe which scraped a thin layer of skin
off of the entirety of Mako's back from shoulders to tail bone. Taking the flap of tough skin with her, she nodded to the wardens who were looking at her
in amazement and joined her comrades for the walk back to the boat.

***

"Huh. Where'd you get that from, Sylia?" Priss asked as she saw Sylia using an oversized rag to buff some slime from the Devouring Earth off one
of her wristblades. The caked slime fell off as if the grey substance was sandpaper.

"Same place I got that new rug in the bathroom," she said.

"The one that's made out of shark skin under the clear plastic? I didn't take you for a fishing person."

"Well, I didn't catch it on my own, but I did contribute towards that end..."

"Uh...huh."
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

It was a good thing that Mag Flashlight wasn't doing his 'Fastest Tank in the West' jump through the Legendary's base, or he would have
slammed himself right up against the rock-solid form of Emet. Amber, standing beside her golem had a large tray of what appeared to be small pins and badges in
her hands. Every few seconds, one would lift as if by an unseen hand, and pin itself to the leather jacket of the Golem.

"What're you up to Mag?" Came a pleasant question from Amber.

Mag grunted with a "Inventing. Still have some work to do."

"Oh, really? Working for Field Crafter, are you?" all the while one of the larger Badges that looked rather like a Recipe floated up and attached
itself to the jacket. Amber smiled and giggled a little, and Mag just groaned and hopped down to Crafting tables.

A while later, Mag with a triumphant look on his helmeted face, he came back out to the entrance. Amber and Emet were still there, still attaching badges. The
tray had a small but still noticeable decrease in contents, backed up by Emet's jacket having every patch of blue leather covered up by a badge or award of
some sort.

"Thats all for my Field Crafter, see ya later Kid." Mag waved to Amber.

"Congrats, Mag!" came the answer as Amber was busily pinning the small exploration pins to the tassels of her golem's Pauldrons. Mag took the
portal out.
---

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'm not even certain anyone will get the reference for this joke. And Wire, I'd like to apologize for Mag's armour, although in my defence
I've rarely seen it when it wasn't encased in ice.

---

... Dare I ask what happened to Alice?

I think the saying is, "when someone doubts Anime, God kills a catgirl" ....
---

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