Drunkard's Walk Forums

Cigarette smoke hung over the room, a dense and strong miasma.

A single bare lightbulb illuminated the table, hanging from a worn-looking insulation cord. The furniture had seen better days, as well, and
there weren't enough chairs to go around - more than a few of those at the table were sitting on packing crates.

One of the men rubbed his pale face, then adjusted the tinted goggles covering his eyes. He breathed a deep sigh, then laid his cards on the
table, alongside his meagre collection of chips. "I'm out," he said, "I give up. Frank's got a better hand."

The player beside him gave a nasty snarl, the sound coming deep from his throat. "What," he barked, "how the hell do you know
that?"

"Easy," replied the first man, "your tail's wagging."

Laughter went round the room.

"He's got you there, Frank," someone else pointed out.

The Warwolf huffed. Shoulders slumping, he huddled down, clutching his cards close to his furry chest. He growled something incoherent. The
others ignored him.

"Well," the dealer said, "while Frank works off his latest snit...everyone else still in, right?"

"We will never surrender," intoned the Galaxy at the other end of the table, eyes glowing purple beneath his
cowl.

"Jeeeesus," complained another player, "would you cut that out, you're putting me off my beer."

Another argument started to break out - until a loud knock came from the door. The soldiers at the table exchanged a glance.

"Frank's turn," half of them said in unison.

Frank the Warwolf grumbled, but didn't protest. He set his cards neatly on the table, daring the others to touch them with a baleful
eye.

He started to rise, just as the knocking resumed, a loud and insistent pounding.

"Alright, alright," Frank roared, "we're coming, we're coming."

The Warwolf rummaged in his pockets as he stomped up to the door, looking for the bills he'd set aside as pizza money. He extracted a
messy bundle of notes from his pants, picking carefully at the elastic band with his claws.

Then he went for the doorknob.

He never got there.

Before he could reach it, the door smashed inward in a sudden spray of splinters, the wood giving way as a hand burst through at neck level.

Gloved fingers closed round Frank's throat.

The Warwolf only managed a confused and rather choked-off sound before he found himself being pulled forward, straight through the remains of the door,
blasting what was left off its hinges.

The friendly card game dissolved into chaos as beer cans dropped from hands and chips fell to the floor, their owners going for weapons
instead.

The players watched with growing apprehension as a figure appeared in the doorway - and it wasn't Frank.

"Heya, boys," Syndesis said, leaning against the broken frame.

A broad smile crossed her face, her lips pulling back to show two rows of perfect teeth.

"Trick or treat?"

* * *

Mag Flashlight entered the Legendary workshop, heading for the crafting bench. With expert motions, the armoured engineer set up the nanotech
fabricator, then turned his attention to the raw material bins.

Then he stopped. Behind the visor of his helmet, both eyebrows rose.

Mag stared for a while.

Finally, he dialed into the base computer and checked the storage logs.

Wandering out of the work area, he searched the base until he found Syndesis.

She was reclining at a table near the bar, playing a quiet game of solitaire.

"Hey, Syn," Mag called.

Her eyes remained focused on the battered deck, as she flipped a card over. Brown flecks of blood marred its face.
"Yeah?"

"Why are the salvage bins full of Council stuff?"

"Enh," Syndesis replied, "candy's fattening."

Mag considered this. "I've seen your file. You don't get fat."

She didn't look up. "So?"

---

-- Acyl

Out of deference to the wounded, the able-bodied members of the household were keeping their voices down. The loudest sound was the clink of silverware
against china as they enjoyed brunch and quiet conversation.

From her place at one end of the table, Neko raised her chin from the saucer and cocked an ear at the hallway. "Uh-oh," she said by way of warning.
Conversation ceased.

Down the hall, a doorknob rattled briefly, then turned. The door it was attached to slowly, oh, ever so slowly creaked open. It was Sammy's room, and so
there was nothing visible in the darkness beyond -- blackout shades kept it dark and cozy at all times.

A shambling shape appeared and stumbled slowly through the doorway. It bore in every respect save one the perfect appearance of a zombie -- but in a household
with catgirls, a talking cat, and a fey, there was no fooling the other senses; Alice and Neko sniffed reflexively, testing the wind, then had to restrain
their grins, while Ifrit simply bit her lip to keep from laughing outright.

Nene, for her part, didn't have the augmented senses of the others at the table, but had prior experience with situations such as this and remained
unfazed.

Sammy the Zombie shuffled down the hall, complete with pitiful moaning wail of the damned -- a quiet wail, this, barely audible but there all the same. Her
eyes, when they opened, were bloodshot, the pupils bare pinpricks against the red-and-white canvas. Her hands, instead of outstretched and grasping for
brains, were clamped firmly to the sides of her head, her posture suggesting that they were necessary to keep her head steady while the world spun erratically.

The group remained silent and watchful while Sammy moaned her way into the kitchen, found the aspirin and orange juice left for her on the counter, nodded her
thanks -- and visibly regretted it -- and shuffled her painful way back to her bedroom. The door closed with a quiet click.

"You weren't joking," Nene commented at last. "That's the worst sugar crash I've ever seen, and I've seen a few nasty
ones."

"It wasn't so bad, at first -- you know how hyper she usually is, it was only a little worse is all." Alice poked at her eggs with her fork.

"So what happened?" Ifrit wanted to know.

Neko grimaced. "She ran into Fae Wree Tail."

Alice nodded sadly. "Yeah... after that things sort of... escalated."

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

Mag Flashlight, Engineer, Tank, Inventor, Scientist, pushed the broom across the floor of the entrance lobby of the Legendary's base, picking up a considerable pile of dust and trash on the 48" sweep of his chosen weapon. With a neat flick of the elbow, he cornered around the mahogany and glass of the reception desk, which held Cyberman 8's lithe mechanical figure. Cyberman opened his mouth and started to rise out of his chair, but was interrupted by the tank.
"Yes, Pete, for the tenth time, I prefer to handle this solo. It's kind of a zen thing."
"Well, sure, but what I don't understand is, where does a powered armor engineer, with three PhDs to his name, who superheroes as his day job..   learn how to do janitorial work?"
Mag paused as he rounded the corner between the wall and the base of the Arrival Teleporter. He flicked the corner free of dust, adding a Jujubee wrapper to his growing pile of refuse, and stood leaning casually on the broom handle, which creaked alarmingly.
"It's like this." Mag said, running a hand across his shiny bald head. "I've been fighting against Crey longer than the combined lifespan of that bunch of kids calling themselves Sabers. I've tried hyperphase, stealth, that whole Quickfoot thing, and sheer speed..   Nothing works better than a pair of coveralls that say 'janitorial service' on the back, and a broom. " Mag nodded once, satisfied with his conclusion, and went back to his sweeping.
Pete laughed, shaking his head, and brought up some music to help the two keep awake and alert during this late-night cleanup.

Epilogue:
Stumbling off of the teleporter pad, Evangelia barely stayed vertical as she wavered to the reception desk in the Legendary base. She plopped into the comfy, overbuilt desk chair and curled up, resting her chin on her knees as she waited for the room to stop spinning.
"Miss Eva, If you're crashing from the sugar this badly, perhaps you consumed too much of it?" Came the dry British tones. Eva, without looking, drew her broadsword and held the tip of it at Alistair's throat.
"I'm not that bad off, Alistair. Just..  let me be for a few minutes."
"Hmph! Well, at least you'll have a pleasant surprise once you are able to actually look at your surroundings." Eva put her sword away and sighed, as the sound of flipper feet moved off down the hallway. A minute or two passed, and she raised her head. Brushing the spun gold of her hair back out of her eyes, she glanced around, noting a distinct lack of anything out of the ordinary. Her eyes settled on the only oddity she'd seen, a small vase on the desk with a white (chocolate) rose in it, and a note pinned to it's wire stem.

Quote:Boss Lady - One of the benefits of moderation is being able to clean up after those who don't practice it ; ). Pete says I shouldn't rag you that hard, but why miss out on all the fun? PS - 24 bags of mixed candy wrappers and party trash - and I used the big bags. Those leftover tree/plant/monster things don't count as party trash..  
Signed,
Mag Flashlight
Cyberman 8

Fake Epilogue:
Deep within the bowels of the Legendary base, the compressed mass of conductive leftover candy and semiconductive wax paper twitched, spasming as the electric sensation of LIFE crashed across it's newly-formed brain. As it flewed newly-wrought muscle, the information inscribed on the wastepaper that formed much of its being soaked into it's rudimentary consciousness. It flexed, extruding tentacles and pseudopods as it hauled it's misshapen body up the sides of the incinerator that had birthed it. It was time. Time and past time for GREAT CHOCOLATEY FLAVOR to rise upon this world!
Epilogue The Second:
Mag sauntered off the teleporter dias, a cup of coffee in one hand, his habitual cigar clenched in his teeth. Lowering his armored bulk into the reception chair, he pulled the terminal closer and propped up his feet on the desk. Placing his cigar carefully in the ashtray cutout in his armor, he took a drink of coffee and logged in to the Supergroup Personnel And Management system. Scrolling through the notifications, and scanning for urgents, Mag chuckled to himself. Flagging nearly 3/4 of the 'Legendary' as 'Off-Duty: Medical' was something that he hadn't seen since the last major blowout of a party. Bringing up the Coalition Access Network, Mag laughed out loud. Riot Force, Beta Team, and Crossroads all had similar rosters, covered with the pulsing green cross indicating someone medicalled out.
Mag logged out of CAN/SPAM, and crossed his legs on the desk. Taking another swig of coffee, he puffed his cigar back alight and adjusted his air intakes to prevent the smoke from escaping. As slow as today was likely to be, there was no reason to hurry.
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

Peregrine Island:

The Harlequin Fencer giggled as she twirled her energy rapier in her hands. "I do love this time of year. We can go anywhere and people don't run
like usual because everybody dresses like us! It's a free ticket to cause mayhem!"

The hulking giant of a Steel Strongman standing next to her rubbed his hands in expectation, "More souls for our Mistress, more fun for us."

The last of the trio, a second Fencer, stood leaning against a wall in the alleyway. Her arms were crossed over her cosseted chest. "Have you two ever
considered the opposite side of this time of year?"

The first Fencer paused and looked at her. "What do you mean sister?"

The other woman shrugged slightly. "You say that you're more free because people masquerade this time of year. Well, what if someone managed to
masquerade as another of our group and infiltrate us?"

"That's impossible!" She laughed. "Our masks cannot be duplicated by any artisan outside of our own."

"Perhaps not exactly, but a close enough facsimile can be created to them."

The Fencer pointed her rapier at the other Harlequin. "We would know the difference. It's impossible to imitate one of our number."

The harlequin shook her head and stood up straight. "Unfortunately, I don't think you're quite right on that account." She grinned as her
eyes and fists started glowing pink with energy.

Striga Isle:

"Have you ever thought about going trick or treating?"

The Penumbra Marksman looked at the Galaxy as if he'd grown a third eye. "What?"

"You know, go knock on a door and when it's answered say trick or treat and..."

"I know what you mean! But why would I do something stupid like that? Nobody will answer a door if we 'politely' knock on it. We always have to
blow it in to get inside."

The Galaxy shook his head. "Not this time of year. It's Halloween. Everybody is in costume. They'll probably think you're just another hero
dressed up and give you candy."

The Marksman eyed him suspiciously. "Are you trying to make me look like a fool?"

"No, I'm not. Just trying to pass the time. Nothing is happening and this standing guard is getting boring." The Galaxy sighed and shook his
head. "Fine. How about if I, pardon the pun, sweeten the deal for you?

"Sweeten how?"

The Galaxy pulled a C-note out of his pocket. "If you go knock on that door over there and say trick or treat, I'll pay you a hundred dollars."

The Penumbra raised an eyebrow, now interested. "Seriuosly, that's all I have to do?"

"Yep, that's it."

He grinned and walked over to the warehouse door. He'd had to do an inspection on the warehouse earlier today and knew that nobody was inside. This would
be easy money. Reaching up, he rapped on the door once. It blew open and out came a roaring werewolf and a furious sorceress in red, both focused on beating
the life out of the poor Marksman. The Galaxy chuckled and watched on as his eyes began glowing pink.

The Hallows:

A group of about a dozen Trolls stood in the caves criss-crossing the area below the hollows. They mulled about waiting for something interesting to happen.

On the edge of the group, a Trollkin Gunner stood beside a Gardvord looking on. The Gunner nudged the Gardvord in the arm and pointed at an Ogre in the middle
of the group. "He say you fat and slow. He say you bad Troll." It took a few moments to register, but the now enraged Troll roared and beat his
chest, then took off and tackled the Ogre. The two began fighting and all Trolls know better than to stay out of a brawl, so the whole group jumped in and
began throwing kicks and punches at whatever they could reach.

After a few minutes, the only one left standing was the Ogre that had been initially attacked, with a pile of unconscious Trolls all around him. It took a
second, but it finally dawned on him what happened. "Uh Oh. Atta not like this at all." He didn't even notice the original Gunner coming up
behind him and hitting him over the head with fists glowing with energy.

The gunner looked at the pile of Trolls and grinned. "You guys make this way too easy." Chuckling, the Troll moved on down the tunnels to find
another group of victims.

Riot Force 6.1 Superbase:

The entry portal flashed as Quicksilver Nano came in, her arms filled with salvage. Nene and Ifrit sat on a couch nearby and watched as the tiny nanocolony
somehow managed to make her way towards the vault and salvage racks to unload her goodies. The defender raised an eyebrow at the scene. "Well,
you've been a busy little bee, haven't you Silver?"

She grinned. "I've been having fun today! I never though that Halloween could be this entertaining." She finally turned the corner and stored
her prizes where they belonged and came back to the couple.

"Did you get all that Trick or Treating?" Ifrit inquired.

Silver shook her head. "Naah, I tried it and they kept giving me candy. I don't have any use for stuff like that, I ended up giving it to some kid
on the street. I figured since everybody is dressing up and going around in disguise, I would give it a try too." As they looked on, her body began
shifting and loosing shape. It grew in height and eventually formed into a perfect replica of a Hellion. Even her voice sounded masculine now. "Well,
I'm off to Perez. I'll see you two later!" She skipped on down the hall into the teleporter room, her giggling sounding rather creepy in the
man's voice.

~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

Between the fact that Quicksilver is a shapeshifter, and the new costumes that she's been able to get by doing the trick or treating, this outcome seems
like something she'd do just to pass the time. A bored Quicksilver is a dangerous individual indeed...

*Looks at Sammy. Looks at Nano* I'm scared...

God, but I wish the costumes worked like that. That would be awesome!


Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com

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

Nene checked her costume one last time, and noted to herself how lucky she was to end up in Paragon City. Normally, this opinion came from the large number of
heroes to help the Knight Sabres stand against Crey, her family, her friends, and so on, but tonight was a little different. Almost anywhere else in America,
Halloween had become rather commercialized, and even then, there was something of an attitude that it was only for children.

Maybe it was the fact Paragon had so many costumes every day, or the fact that witches, vampires, and other mystical forces used the night to try and attack
the city, doing a remarkable job of driving the commercial elements away. Whatever the reason, in Paragon, it was perfectly acceptable for adults to join in
the festivities. If you were a hero, it was almost expected. Heck, Nene had heard that MAGI and DATA had developed illusion spells and holo-projectors designed
to work as costumes of the cities various villian groups.

That said, she preferred her own, even if it was offered by DATA. As she grinned at the reflection of a Crey Agent, she wondered what Creys PR department made
of that option, and headed for the living room. "All done!" she called out as she noticed she was the first one there. Looking around, she went and
got a glass of water. Hearing the bathroom door open as she did so, she finished her drink and went back out... then momentarily forgot how to drink.

Ifrit had gone with a look that matched her name. Baggy silk pants, a vest that struggled to keep her large chest contained, and a red veil, she looked every
part the classical genie. "Do you have any wishes I may grant master?" the fey smiled, moving forward.

"... wow," Nene said, sliding her arms around her lovers waist. "Dangerous outfit."

"You think so?" she chuckled.

"Well, I know I'm going to be distracted all night."

Ifrit snickered, taking the all black sunglasses from Nenes vest pocket and put them on the womans face. "Well, at least no one else will know where your
eyes are roaming," she teased.

"I'm an evil corporate agent. I go where I please," Nene smirked. The smirk widened as Alices door opened. She'd helped her daughter put
together her costume, taking delight in the girls glee at getting to act her age for once and take part in something she'd only ever seen from a distance
in her street days. The poor girl had nearly broken down as she realized she couldn't remember any Halloweens from before the Rikti War... But the choice
of costume had helped her recover.

As Ifrit turned, Nene held back a laugh at the look of stunned delight on the feys face. Alice blushed at the look, brushing a stray hair back. Her costume
was, wings and all, an almost perfect replica of Ifrits main costume as Lady of the Peace, lacking only the fishnets. "Oh my," Ifrit whispered.
"That's incredible..."

"Momma Nene and Aunt Sylia helped," Alice replied, beaming at the sound of approval. Nene chuckled lightly. While Alice had shot past her in terms of
security rankings (And Nene had too, actually), Ifrit was still the target of a lot of hero worship from their adopted daughter. To her credit, the fey
realized this, and took it well yet again, going over and hugging the girl.

"I'm very flattered," she smiled. "But you are missing one thing." Pulling a pair of glasses out of nowhere, she placed them on Alices
face, casting a spell to keep them in place, even with the lack of ears in the right place. "There," she said, smiling wider as Alice grinned and
hugged her again.

"Thanks mum," the catgirl said. Ifrit grinned, kissing the girls forehead.

"You're welcome sweetie," she said.

"Ta-da!" Sammys voice called out. The other three woman looked towards the hallway, and Nene grinned as Alice let off a small mew of surprise. In
another example of hero worship, Sammy was dressed up as Alice... Well, she'd dyed her fur stripes the right color, and was going Mynx-style, taking
advantage of a thick coat of fur. She was even holding a bow and had Neko sitting on her shoulder, smirking. "How do I look?" she asked. "I
actually did it yesterday Aunty Priss helped with the dye because I couldn't reach all over the place although I tried and kinda made a mess but her
trailer's really kinda messy anyway so she said it wasn't that noticeable really."

"I... yikes," Alice said, gaping. Sammy pulled up her goggle-glasses and grinned. "Where'd you get the bow?"

"Some guy in Croatoa gave it to me. That place is as bad as Striga, everyone gives you stuff, I mean, what am I gonna do with a sword, I'd be worried
about cutting off my tail when I swung it around. But I got a bow and he showed me how to use it. I'm not as good as you or Mister Bishop, but then no one
is really, 'cause you're both really good at it!"

Nene laughed, then spoke up, getting everyone's attention. "Okay girls, all set for trick or treating?" They all nodded, Sammy actually bouncing
up and down slightly at the concept of being given candy (So much candy! And at the next door - MORE CANDY!). Nene grinned, motioning to the door. "Well
then, let's get to it," she said. "Remember the rules? Knock, say the words politely, and be ready for monsters."

"Candy and dogs to beat up?" Sammy grinned, still bouncing. Neko chuckled, and Nene wondered if the cat would last the night on the Hyper
Kitteh's shoulder, or retreat to Alice and safety.

"Candy and dogs to beat up," Ifrit confirmed with a smile, opening the door and letting Purrfect Scrapper lead the charge out. She shared an amused,
affectionate smile with Nene, then followed.

That is just too cute.

I'm getting a sugar rush just from reading it
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy

{exterior shot - black}

{NARRATOR reads in a steady slow voice at an even pace with a few seconds pause between each line unless shown other otherwise}

NARRATOR: Once I was Normal.

{Red text appears on screen as NARRATOR reads his line: Once I was normal}

Background voice: Momma, Poppa, Hide!

NARRATOR: Once I was Human.

{Red text appears on screen as NARRATOR reads his line: Once I was human}

Background FX: Sound of a scuffle

NARRATOR: Once I was Mortal.

{Red text appears on screen as NARRATOR reads his line: Once I was mortal}

Background voice: It's not safe here anymore

NARRATOR: Until they came,

{Shot of a bunch of Longbow and some heroes entering a building)

NARRATOR: With their fancy suits

{Long Shot of Four Sabre like suits landing on a building}

{Camera zooms closer as they land but before you can identify them, there is a flash like a camera flash, and the colors bleed quickly out}

NARRATOR: And twisted masks.

{Shot of the team running through the building weapons ready. Some civilians are running around. Camera zooms in on leader's raised fist. He guestures.}

Background FX: appropriate weapon noises

NARRATOR: They butchered us,

{Team opens fire hitting everyone, Civilians fall to the ground}

LEADER: C'mon, C'mon! Hurry up and kill 'em! We can take our time and look for our target afterwards but
first kill 'em all!

NARRATOR: As we hid in the darkness,

{Shot of darkened figure crouching behind a couch in a room several bodies appear on the floor just inside frame, their armed with a gun}

LEADER(In distance): What's the story with that room over there?

ARMOR SUIT steps into room.

NARRATOR: Showing no mercy, giving no quarter.

ARMOR SUIT sprays room with fire or lead. One or two shots hit the figure.

LEADER steps into room

LEADER: Go search the corpse

NARRATOR: We fought as we could.

{Figure steps up wounded and fires at both, shots reflect off. Some shots peel off armor and skin revealing mechanical workings underneath}

FIGURE: (First background voice) Cyborg!

Figure (still in shadows/darkness/back-lit) throws themselves out the window.

NARRATOR: We lost at every turn.

{Hits ground with thud. Other bodies can be seen with blood stains.}

ARMOR SUIT: We got a Runner!

NARRATOR: I alone am left.

{LEADER appears at window pointing down at camera, which then quickly pans down and zooms in on body}

LEADER: Get down there and get them!

NARRATOR: A deal was struck, a bargain made, and now I linger on.

{A blade appears near body on ground.}

SOFT FEMALE VOICE: Join with me if you want to live

FIGURE reaches out and grasps the blade's handle.

NARRATOR: Once I was Normal,

{No pause after this line}

{A burst of light runs through the Figure and the Blade fades away - gun still in their grasp. Figure's hand fall's down.}

NARRATOR: Once I was Human,

{No pause after this line}

{Longbow surround fallen body weapons drawn as camera zooms out in a spiral}

NARRATOR: Once I was Mortal.

{Long pause after this line}

{Fade to Black}

{Silence then upon reaching Black:}

Background FX: Flapping coat in the breeze

{Camera zooms out to show BIG REVEAL of Sichtar crouching on building corner}

NARRATOR: Now I Hunt,

{No pause after line}

{Shot of Sichtar crouching on a building top and then jumping off}

NARRATOR: I Stalk,

{No pause after line}

{Shot of Sichtar sneaking/walking up to a large target without detection}

NARRATOR: I Prey,

{No pause after line}

{Shot of Sichtar executing a big attack on a mob and them falling down}

NARRATOR: I will track them down and SMITE them.

{Cut to Sichtar powering up and doing big overhead attack on a mob}

NARRATOR: I will search them out and have my Vengeance.

{Cut to Sichtar in the middle of a corridor swiping a mob and then fading into nothing.}

NARRATOR: I will stalk them down and have my Reward in BLOOD!

{Shot of Sichtar doing the same motion as a VEAT Solider after using Serum on top of a large body}

{Cut to black:}

{Camera circles and Sichtar who is on a back background in a battle ready pose, starting at feet and ending up at head and face}

NARRATOR: This is my Oath,

NARRATOR: This is my Creed,

NARRATOR: This is my Right,

NARRATOR: This is my Curse.

NARRATOR: This is my -Destiny-.

{Camera zooms in on glowing red eyes}

{fade to black/CoV logo the glow of the eyes lingering.}

Different Voiceover: Coming to a server near you: Sichtar

---

Sichtar's Monologue:

Once I was normal, Once I was Human, Once I was Mortal.

Until they came, With their fancy suits and twisted masks.

They butchered us, as we hid in the darkness, showing no mercy, giving no quarter.

We fought as we could, we lost at every turn. I alone am left.

A deal was struck, a bargain made, and now I linger on.

Once I was normal, Once I was Human, Once I was Mortal.

Now I Hunt, I Stalk, I Prey.

I will track them down and *SMITE* them.

I will search them out and have my Vengeance.

I will stalk them out and have my Reward in BLOOD!

This is my Oath.

This is my Creed.

This is my Right.

This is my Curse.

This is my -Destiny-.

AN: Sichtar was conceptually going to be a Broadsword/Super Reflexes Brute, an opposite version of Jelidan. But they don't have BS/SR Brutes. So
they're (when I get around to making them) going to be a Nin/Nin Stalker. Probably.

Meta-note: Posted now since Halloween is the time of rebirth/return of the dead... and may or may not be linked to post in Horror Stories.

Extra AN: Edited for typos and added Meta note

"You're such a pig, Nene," Linna noted as the young redhead sat down with what was probably her fifth plate off the all-you-can-eat buffet.

"What? I'm still hungry," Nene responded, digging in as Priss snickered and Sylia just watched the three as she worked on her sirloin.

"Yeah, but you eat more than a horse and you're still this tiny little thing. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was all going to your bust," Linna retorted.

Priss rolled her eyes. "Well, eventually it'll catch up with her and little Nene will become big momma Nene."

"Very funny, Priss. I'll....have you know....I get a.....perfect workout.....on the job. Sylia even......had to adjust the....parameters....when we built my second....suit. I was.....too small to fit it snugly," the policewoman said between bites.

Priss blinked, giving the older woman an inquisitive look which Sylia returned with a nod. "It's true. Her measurements are notably smaller than the ones I remember from back in Tokyo. Her suit she initially worked in is the same."

"Huh. Superheroing as a diet? I'd never have believed it," Linna said, looking thoughtful. "I mean, genetics can only account for so much..."

"Yeah, but we dun have...those....anymore...." Nene said, trailing off as her eyes defocused in thought, before snapping back and going wide.

"Nene? Earth to Nene?" Priss poked, flicking her hair with a finger and getting a slightly startled reaction.

"We don't have genetics anymore."

"Uh..huh?"

"No, seriously, we don't have genes. We're not organic. We're -33S models, right? And who wants a dream girl that gets fat if she doesn't watch her weight?" Nene pointed out.

"A health inspector?" Priss joked, as Linna looked at the other girl oddly and Sylia's eyes reflected a degree of amusement that her calm face didn't, merely out of habit.

"No, seriously. We don't need to eat, in a pinch. The internal systems run off raw materials. Excess material is just recycled and stored, or burned for energy," she said. "And in a machine, more fuel is a good thing. The only reason not to eat more is if you aren't hungry. We can't gain more than the ounce amounts of the food we're eating. We'll never put on another inch!"

Linna's eyes went wide as Priss stared for a moment before chuckling. "You're putting Linna out of a job, Nene. That's just rude."

"Forget a job, I'm getting another steak," Linna noted, getting up and making a beeline for the meat bar. Sylia just chuckled slightly as Priss burst out laughing in companionship to Nene's giggling.

***

"I'm stuffed," Linna moaned, leaning back in her chair. Nene eyed her in slight wonder. "I didn't know anyone could eat that much..." she said in a small voice. Priss was similarly amazed, having filled herself five plates before Nene and seven before Linna.

"I probably never will again," Linna snickered. "But just this once....I think it'll do. If I'd eaten that much before, I'd have had to excercise morning and night every day for a week to burn it off."

"Just wait till I introduce you to true Russian cake," Nene noted with a slight grin.

"Evil girl. You're going to ruin me on common foods," Linna accused.

"Well, yeah. I'd say misery loves company, but you'll be anything but miserable once you try Grandmama Romanova's Quintuple Chocolate Layer Cake," Nene grinned.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

Jon Stanfield wasn't exactly the most ambitious of Crey security guards. Others got assigned to the streets of Brickstown or Founder's Falls, and
pressed their Crey-given authority to the limits against the weaker members of Paragon's citizenry. However, they were just as likely to get beaten up by
some random cape, so Jon was perfectly happy to sit back here in this backwater(by action standards anyway) post of Crey's central transmission mainframe.
He checked the IDs of the occasional Crey agent that came through, but other than that, he sat back, read his book, and otherwise collected a paycheck for
doing absolutely nothing. After all, no hero could get this deep without a huge alert, at which point he'd be recalled and heavier support like Tank armors
or Protector armors would be called in to protect the mainframe. They didn't leave something this sensitive to be guarded by a guy with a night stick and a
pistol.

As it was, when a smoking hot red head in standard agent attire walked up, the main thing Jon noticed was the hair and the fact that she was about a head
shorter than most. However, she was wearing one of the short skirts several of the female agents did, so Stanfield just swiped her ID, saw it go green, handed
it back with a smile and watched her move in that tight little skirt as she entered into the mainframe area. After a while, she exited again, tossing him a
cute smile as she passed and putting a little more into her walk until she was out of sight. Jon chuckled. And they said all those agents were cold bitches...

***

At approximately 10AM, Eastern Standard Time, just as the Countess Crey began her usual exploration into the productivity of her corporations various branches,
every screen in every Crey facility, worldwide, suddenly went briefly blue. The Countess scowled before blinking at a small loading bar.

On the screen, figures of small, super-deformed Crey Security, Agents, and Protectors appeared, doing an odd dance that consisted of gyrating back and forth
with their hands near their head. The Countess was somewhat amused, wondering how whoever was doing this had hacked her personal console. Then the animations
switched to Crey Juggernauts, Paragon Protectors, and members of the board of directors and the Countess became somewhat annoyed. And by the time it reached
all the way to depictions of herself and Hopkins, Countess Crey was livid, especially when she discovered how widespread this little video was. As she chewed
out some poor unfortunate on the phone, the catchy little song and video continued.

Dance to the beat, wave your hands together. Come feel the heat forever and forever. Listen and learn, it is time for
prancing. Now we are here, we're Caramelldancing!

***

"Well, that's all impressive and all," Mag noted, talking with a wildly giggling Net Sabre. "But really, if you were going to do something
like that, you should've stuck with a classic."

"A classic, huh?" Net asked.

"Yeah, you can't be too young to have heard of a RickRoll," Mag noted, raising an eyebrow at her. Nene snickered, before typing in a few commands
via her HUD.

"Well, I had to do SOMETHING for an encore...."

****

Editor's Note:

For those familiar with the Caramelldansen meme, there is in fact an English version which is what is used
here.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

Nene Romanova, Paragon's version of the legendary uber-hacker, scowled at the console in a rare fit of indecision. The level of access she currently had was rare - usually by now she'd have been shut down by any number of security cutouts, but she was ahead enough in the eternal dance of security vs. hacker that she had peeled the Crey mainframe used for the Saber project open like a peelifruit. The problem came in, however, with the current direction the Saber project had taken. A splinter group, only loosely associated with the 'mainline' Saber staff, had been pursuing, in parallel, the development of a 'bare' AI engram, that didn't depend on a personality rip from a living brain. They had proceded to the point that they were ready to try booting their system in a Saber system body..

And Nene didn't know what that meant to the Sabers.

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

"Silky Doll lingerie, Sylia speaking, how may I assist you today?"

"Hey boss lady, I have a minor problem I need your advice on."

"Is this business, Nene, or personal?"

"Big business deal, actually. I kinda need to talk to you in person abou- FUCK! SAMMY!"

*Click*

Sylia considered the phone in her hand. Nene wasn't one to use profanity, or to call in without need. This didn't bode well. On her way out the door, she flipped the archaic plasticene sign to 'closed', and punched the lock button.

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

Sylia arrived at Nene's dwelling in good time, and knocked on the door, which nearly immediately opened to reveal a subdued Alice.

"Alice."

"Sylia. Nene's in her room, everyone is OK."

Alice backed aside to allow Sylia into the house, and took her coat without a further word. As Sylia passed the kitchen, she saw the brightly-clad stripey catgirl, Samantha, sitting in a chair in a corner, facing the wall. One eyebrow quirked in puzzlement as she knocked on Nene's door, which drifted open, releasing the smell of smoke. Closing and latching the door behind her, Sylia considered the crumpled form of Nene, face on her arms in her computer chair, smoking wreckage of her terminal in front of her, and a '128 Oz Hero Size' soda cup on the floor as if thrown.

"Nene?" Sylia inquired, reaching out and gently touching the young hacker on the shoulder. Nene twitched, and cringed.

"We might have a Really Freaking Big problem, Sylia." Nene mumbled through her arms. Straightening up and turning to face Sylia, Nene revealed a haunted expression and a serious case of button face.

"Do tell?" Sylia said evenly, and stepped back to settle gracefully into one of the simple wooden chairs provided for guests. Nene took a deep breath, and sighed as she let it out, her shoulders slumping.

"I was in the Crey mainframe - in way deep. I had enough security cutouts going that I don't think there's a chance I got traced, but.. Crey's up to something. They're developing an actual AI, instead of the engram process used with us. And from what I read before the.. accident.. they're about ready to start one up."

"Accident?" Sylia inquired calmly, one eyebrow quirked.

"I was on the phone with you, which I guess you could of guessed, heh.. And Sammy came home. She decided to surprise her Aunt Nene, and, well.. it was a freak thing, there's no way that soda should have gone straight into the machine like that!" Nene finished excitedly, kicking at the soda cup on the floor.

Sylia let her eyebrow sink back to Normal Alert status, and rubbed at her eyes to buy time. Looking up at the flustered Nene, Sylia rose and delicately gathered the young girl into a hug, which Nene returned, sobbing into Sylia's shoulder.

"The worst part is, Sylia, I don't think I'll be able to get back in that deep. I don't know if this new Saber AI is going to be a person, or how tough it's going to be, and that worries me, I mean REALLY worries me. I figured the best thing to do would be to talk to you *sniff* since you always know what to do."

Sylia broke the embrace and held Nene at arm's length. "It'll be OK, Nene. Did you get an address for the activation, or do we find it through other means?"

Nene nodded, pulling a ripped-off corner of notepaper out of her pocket. "Here's the address of the lab they're using, and their best projection of an activation date."

"Well, then, we'll just have to crash the party, won't we?"

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

Hopkins loomed in the observation gallery, as the vaugely humanoid shape on the lab table in front of him lay quiescent and surrounded by lab techs. The project lead, one Roman Vasquez, fluttered around the room as if winged, checking this system and confering with that tech, testing and configuring at a frenetic pace. Roman had been quite argumentative about the last-minute change in venue, but had performed admirably once he'd made his objection, which Hopkins respected.

Checking his cellphone, Hopkins noted a security alert - the Sabers were rapidly and efficiently eliminating the security forces at the original lab. One massive eyebrow twitched, and Hopkins strode across the observation deck to the comm mounted at one side.

"Mr. Vasquez, I just thought you should know, sir, that the Sabers have eliminated nearly seventy five percent of the effective security force at the previous lab."

Vasquez twitched like a man being Tased and lunged for the comm console in the lab chamber. "Thank you for your insistance, then, Mr. Hopkins. I'm man enough to admit when I'm wrong. Five minutes to startup sequence." Roman bounced away from the console as if on springs, and returned to his frenetic pace of work. Hopkins right eyebrow twitched again, and he pulled his phone out to make a note. The sort of integrity Vasquez was showing was an attribute to be nurtured.. and watched.

The humanoid figure grew more and more defined as various systems were mounted and panels closed over them, revealing itself to be squat and rounded, almost an Art Deco idea of a mechanical man. Vasquez himself fitted the faceplate over the primary visual sensors, toggling the adaptive optical filters through several rapid mode changes, causing the shields to flouresce from green to red.

Vasquez returned to the Comm console at the four minute and fourty-five second mark, and Hopkins felt his eyebrow lifting again. "Mr. Hopkins, we are ready to start. The Synthetic Intelligence Robot should be online shortly."

Hopkins responded with a curt acknowledgment, and folded his hands behind his back. The frantic movement on the floor below ceased, as all the technicians filed out of the room to more protected areas, leaving Vasquez alone with the Art Deco mechanical man. Vasquez lost no time hauling a massive datalink cable down from the ceiling, and threaded it onto a shielded port in the top of the cranium of the supine form. After the connection was secured, he almost ran to a nearby console, and with a glance up to Hopkins in the observation room, pressed the stereotypical Big Red Button.

Hopkins was half expecting, giving the man's theatrical nature, the lights to go out. They failed to do so, burning a constant clean white light onto the lab. Second on the half expected list was violent reaction, perhaps an explosion or a 'Crey Loyalty Failure', as the earlier Scimitar experiments had suffered from. This also failed to happen. Instead, the figure on the table sat up with a single stiff motion, and reached up to the datacable coming out if it's notional 'head'. The optical filters on it's face flickered through all available modes before settling down to a lambent teal coloration, which was matched by auxiliary sensors in it's shoulders and chest. The reach up to the datacable didn't quite work out, and the grey robot threshed around ineffectively before Vasquez stepped forward and grabbed it by the wrist, placing its hand in contact with the datacable. The robot then unscrewed the cable and closed the armor shroud, giving it an almost cylindrical appearance.

"G.I.R. Saber reporting for duty, SIR!" the robot thundered, snapping a salute which passed over it's head by a good three inches. Vasquez considered the robot, an emergency button now clenched in his hand.

"G.I.R.? What does the G stand for?" he asked uncertainly.

"I.. I Don't Knooooooow" The robot trilled, before lapsing into chirpy mechanical giggles. Hopkins returned to the comm console in the observation room.

"Vasquez. Is it supposed to be stupid?" Hopkins asked, amusement in his voice. Roman handed the emergency button to the robot, and turned back to his own comm console.

"It's not stupid, sir, it's advanced!" he replied indignantly. Unnoticed, the robot consumed the emergency button, triggering the ejection process. As the table and its contents were ejected from the room, Vasquez whirled around in horror. Hopkins felt both eyebrows crawling up, and forced them back down to maintain his stoic expression as he rapidly searched through building plans on the console.

"Vasquez, you now have a problem. This facility was for nonsecure research, and that ejector just dropped your malfunctioning robot out to a streetside Dumpster." Hopkins shut off the console with grave finality, and returned to the window, folding his hands behind his back and looming down at the frantic Vasquez, who was yelling into his comm console and waving his arms at Hopkins. After a good moment's loom, Hopkins turned his back on the window and left the observation room.

As Vasquez tried to assign teams and request security forces for his panicked assistants, the freshly created G.I.R. Saber hurtled through the night, ejected, by a duct not designed to take a thousand pounds of robot + examination table, into the night sky at approximately the 27th floor. Clinging to the table with its stubby fingers, the robot left a trailing ululation behind it in the air as it plummeted towards traffic below.

"OOOooooooo..."

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

Mackie Stingray, AKA Typhoon Saber, idly contemplated the difference between 'he' and 'she' as she drove through the night, bringing a van full of Saber hardsuits and support gear back to her sister's redoubt. Everything _felt_ normal, and really, for an artificial being, gender was a flexible construct anyway (and shouldn't you be more worried about being an artificial construct than which way you're wired, Mackie?), though this wasn't terribly relevant to anything she had going anyway, gender identification means nothin-

Mackie's train of thought was interrupted by the near-total destruction of the rear suspension of the van as a half ton of ballistic lab table smashed into the cargo body. Mackie, screaming her lungs out in an impressive stream of profanity, managed to get the van off to the side of the road and stopped. Turning to the side to unlock her harness and get out to check the damage, Mackie came face to face with a blocky, cylindrical head, lambent blue-green eyes blinking curiously.

"Hi! I'm GIR! Do you know you have a lab table in your van?"

~Fin~

Editor's note: *snrk* If I didn't have Reverse Altitis, I'd make me a Gir Saber, and use costume change macros for the color shift..
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

I was afraid of where this was going when I saw "Synthetic Intelligence Robot" and autoassembled the acroynm... and I was right.

I do hope someone builds the little guy, though...
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

... Powersets?

I AM WEEAAAAKK!! *sob*

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

Noo Spud don't do it! lol, your altitis is truely something that needs professional medical attention *grin* Besides, don't you have enough alts to
chew on for a while? heh, save some character slots for after I13 ^_^

you sir are an evil evil man. And we love you for it.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy

"Oh, Sammy," Ifrit sighed.

"It's not like I -hurt- anybody," Sammy sulked.

Nene shook her head. "Time to update The List?"

Ifrit nodded. "Looks like."

"Awwwww...."

The Mean Unfair Rules

1. If you -must- catch it and play with it, do so where Aunt Nene can't see it.

2. Aunt Nene's computer room is extra-super off-limits, especially if you want to surprise her.

3. Furniture is not a scratching post, even if it IS covered in armorcloth.

4. No caffiene. No, not even in a double almond mocha. None.

5. Unca Terr is strong enough, but even he doesn't appreciate you trying to sit on his shoulder "just like Neko". Nobody else does either.
Don't do it.

6. Going around "Mynx Style" is acceptable, as long as it's not in the D.

7. Aunt Sylia's shooting range is the appropriate place to test new toys given to you. Your bedroom is not.

8. No, you may not keep it, even if it "followed you home". Especially not if it's a Freak. We don't care how much fun it is to watch it
get back up.

9. You may consume no more than 1/20th your body weight in candy in a 24-hour period. NO EXCEPTIONS.

10. You must get Alistair's permission before playing "find the birdie" with him.

11. No matter how twitchy, Kheldian tendrils are to be left alone.

12. It's MOUSSE, sounds like MOOSE, not MOUSE, as in "icky nasty thing Aunt Ifrit does not want to see in her fridge".

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

number 11 made me lol at work 8 )
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

1,3, 6, 10 and 11 are also Alice rules. She's more controlled then Sammy, but she still has her moments

Quote: Sofaspud wrote:

---

... Powersets?




I AM WEEAAAAKK!! *sob*

Tanker. Invunerability/SS or Energy Melee. Flight. Whichever Epic pool gives Laser Eyes. Everything else is attitude. And tacos. GIR needs tacos, or he'll
explode. (It happens sometimes.)
Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com

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

so, player must have Cyborg Pack.

HUD, costume slots for color change, teal on grey and red on grey for initial costumes (we have 24 sets of halloween salvage - only need 6 more)

maybe a Kheld - Peacebringers get Glinting Eye...
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

Quote:(we have 24 sets of halloween salvage - only need 6 more)

Eva has some to drop off at the base, I just haven't been able to play for a few nights.

Quote:maybe a Kheld

KIR?
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

Alice has a few sets as well, I'm gonna drop them off after the event ends.

...

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