something that both me and ran are working on, part one (i really need a better name for this )

###

Part 1: breaking

Steel Canyon

10:30pm - Friday, May 1st





Gir walk slowly down the street. She felt miserable… no, worse than miserable.

Earlier that week she and Patti had… she was still trying to understand it, she had thought that she and Patti were ready to take the next step in their
relationship. However, something had happened. She wasn't sure if she did something wrong or what, but Patti had asked her to leave. It was confusing,
wasn't that what Patti wanted?



To make up for it, Patti had arranged for a nice dinner, Gir borrowed fair bit of cash from her father to pay for a nice dress and got Sylia to help with her
hair make up. Patti had arranged to meet at very nice restaurant - Luigi's in Steel Canyon. Gir waited till the matre'd told her they were closing for
the night. She had never felt so embarrassed, or miserable. She didn't know why Patti would do such a thing to her.



She sat down on a nearby bench and started to pull her heels off. She tried to come up with a reason - any reason - Patti would have for standing her up, but
she couldn't come up with a thing. Tears slowly started to make their way down her face, she'd tried to call Patti, but all she kept getting was
Patti's voicemail.



"Hey, you okay?" Gir turned to face the voice and her jaw dropped. She recognized the figure instantly. It was Gaz. But that was impossible -
wasn't it? Gir had only barely survived the trip to Paragon City, and that was when she was still an Irken robot, how could a human survive that sort of
thing?



"Are you okay, ma'am?" the girl repeated.



"No, no I'm not, Gaz." Gir replied between sniffles.



The girl paused. "How do you know my name?"



"It's me Gaz…Gir. Zim's robot?"



"What…Gir, how did this happen?"



"It's a long story Gaz…I don't really feel like talking about it."



Gaz sat down next to her, putting her arm around Gir's shoulder. "So what's the matter, Gir?"



Something was trying to get Gir's attention, but she pushed it aside. "It seems like every time something goes my way…it falls apart, like I can't
get anything to work." She said as she tried to blink away the tears. "I wish I knew why."



"Maybe I can help you, Gir."



"H…how?"



"I know someone that can help, maybe even make things the way they were."

"You know someone like that…who?"



"Dib. He can help you, Gir. He's been looking for a way to take us home. He's been working so hard for so long. You just have to come with
me."



Gir spun to face Gaz, her mind filling with ice as she realised what was wrong. "You're not Gaz." She whispered.



"What do you mean Gir? Of course it's me." Gaz replied



"No…Gaz was never this nice. Not to me, not to Zim, and especially not to Dib…. I don't know who you are, but go away."



Gaz slumped her shoulders in defeat. Then, her fist lashed out and smacked Gir in face, knocking her to the pavement. "Your right Gir, I'm not Gaz, I
am Caz. And you're coming with me." she stepped forward her hands crackling with power.



Gir scrambled to her feet, her left eye swelling from the blow. Quickly, she rolled to her feet and brought her arms up to block the next blow. It slammed
against her forearm, red lightning crackling across her skin. She tried to swing back, but Caz moved too fast, her hands shot past Gir's defense and
grabbed her by the arms. She was forced backwards and smashed into a wall. Gir felt it crumble and give behind her as she was pushed partly into it. Small
shards of concrete tore into her back and behind.

Caz leaned forward. "You're coming back with me, Gir."

Gir suddenly shot her head forward, butting Caz in the nose. Caz reeled back as Gir flipped forward onto her hands and spring kicked Caz under the chin. She
then flipped back onto her feet and followed it up with a powerful punch, sending Caz flying into the air. Gir turned and started toward the Yellow Line, not
even bothering to see were Caz landed.

She didn't get far before powerful hands were suddenly around Gir's throat as Caz leaped onto her back. Caz's hands were sending wave after wave
of electrical current into Gir's body, and Gir wasn't sure how much more she could stand. Turning sideways, she backed hard into one of the War Walls.
Caz released Gir with an audible "oof!" Gir turned around to hit Caz, but Caz was ready, and slammed Gir hard into the Solar Plexus. The smell of
burning satin filled the air as Gir hit the pavement again. Caz pressed the advantage and move forward.

Gir abruptly lashed out with both her feet, hitting Caz just below the knees. Caz's knees abruptly buckled, and she collapsed. Gir took a moment to
spring to her feet and run for the yellow line. Caz reached out and grabbed at Gir, snagging the bottom of Gir's dress. Gir tumbled forward, dress ripping.
Caz was already on her feet as Gir's jaw hit the pavement. Dazed, Gir rolled over.

Caz stepped forward and slammed her boot into Gir's chest. "I said I'm taking you back to Dib, Gir. I didn't say you had to be operational.
Or in one piece."

The booted foot twisted, and Gir winced in pain as the steel spikes on the boot's soles twisted with it, tearing cloth and skin alike. Thinking quickly,
she grabbed the boot and twisted it sideways. Caz went reeling to one side, giving her a chance to get up.

Gir turned to face Caz. Unfortunately, Caz was between her and the Yellow Line, cutting off her escape route. The only way to get out of this was through
Caz. She eyed the other robot, noting the smirk on her face….wait…why was she smiling?

Suddenly, Caz put out both her arms and an arc of electricity sparked from between her arms and slammed into Gir. Gir shook as the electricity ran through
her body, forcing her back down on her knees. The cruel smile on Caz's face grew wider. "You see, Gir. You are completely outclassed. You don't
have any choice."

Gir looked around, desperate to find anything to help her out, anything to give her an opportunity to escape. Her eyes focused on the railing behind Caz,
and quickly she came up with a plan. Facing Caz directly, she charged.

Caz held her arms again and the shockwave lashed out, buffeting Gir. But this time she didn't fall, didn't even slow down….she just took the
punishment and kept moving. As she got close, Caz puched out and slammed an electric fist into Gir's stomach. Gir didn't block or dodge, she just
sucked up the pain with a whimpering moan. Caz's punch hurt, but it wasn't enough to stop Gir's momentum. Gir slammed her arms into Caz's
chest, causing Caz to lean back, losing her balance over the railing. Caz's hand reached out and grabbed Gir by the middle, but the reminants of Gir's
dress, damaged and abused by the fight, ripped free and fell with Caz down the ledge. Gir leaned against the railing, breathless for a moment, but had booked
for the Yellow Line before Caz hit the ground.



Fortunately for Caz, someone had left a dumpster at the bottom of the ledge and Caz fell into it. After lying there a moment, she stood, dusted herself off,
and threw the remains of Gir's dress down. The outfit she was in was mangled and torn. "Well…that sucked." She said to no one in particular.



"Yes, it did." Caz spun to see MiMi exit the shadows. "Your orders were not to move in until we can confirm whether or not the target is indeed
Panzer Sabre. So tell me why you risked compromising our mission?"



"To hell with finding Panzer! I think I have something a lot more interesting to tell the Doc."



###

As the train rolled on, Gir sat in the back miserably and thought of the evening, growing glummer and glummer.

Abruptly a beige cloth trenchcoat was dropped into her lap. "Here, kid. You look like you need this more than me."

Gir looked up to see what looked like a naked female cheetah girl looking down at her. She smiled. "My card's in the breast pocket. Just return it
to the address listed when you're up to it. At least I got my fur to fall back on. Besides, I'm off to home to grab some threads before heading to the
office for a little pow-wow with the chief. Which reminds me…" She cat reached into the pocket of the coat and pulled out a PPD badge, a cell phone, and a
gun. "Can't have you traipsing about town with these. So tell me…what happened to you, kid? Who did this to you?"

Gir was about to come up with an excuse…ANY excuse…not to talk to the police cheetah when the train pulled into Atlas Park station. Gir grabbed the coat and
bolted out the door.

Outside, Gir had a good look at herself. Her dress was gone, and this had not been the night to go braless. All she had on was a pair of tattered and frayed
panties, one shoe that used be a high heel, and a pair of burnt purple evening gloves. No wonder that cheetah was wondering what happened. She quickly put the
trenchcoat on, and collapsed against the station wall, wailing.

###



Laz was fiddling with her guitar when she heard the elevator door chime. She turn to see Gir enter and her jaw dropped. "Gir, what…happened?" Their
father Dark Seraph entered the room, took one look at Gir and ran to her side. "Gir are you okay?" he asked as he grabbed her arm.



She flinched away from his touch. Laz got a good look at her sisters, the tear smeared makeup, and the black eye. "Gir, are you okay?" Seraph
repeated



Gir turned away. "I don't want to talk about it." She muttered

Seraph wasn't taking that for an answer. He opened Gir's coat. His eye twitched as he saw the lack of clothing, and the injuries. "Gir, I need
to know. What happened to you?"



Gir spun to her father, the highlight in her hair changing from pale green to deep crimson. "I SAID I DON"T WANT TO FUCKING TALK ABOUT IT!" she
screamed as she shoved Seraph away.



Laz watched in mute horror as her sister's push sent Seraph flying across the room and smashing through the wall. Gir looked at her hands in shock, her
hair returning to its normal colour, before bolting to her room.



Laz could believe what she just saw, Gir had been on a date with Patti and she was normally walking on clouds after that. What could have triggered
that...unless?

The colour drained from her face. No, She thought, Patti wouldn't even dare. Unless she tried to use Gir's naiveté to….She felt
blind rage filling her. She stood up and headed to the elevator. She would find Patti and make her pay for hurting her sister.

When she was done, Patri-ette would be nothing but a grease smear on the pavement.

###

The White Estate - Half an hour later.

Defensive turrets popped and began to fire as Laz stormed through the entryway and into the grounds. The turrets fired at Laz, punched holes in her
clothing and body, but she just healed the wounds and got madder. As she crossed the driveway she saw as impervium plates started to come down over the windows
and doors. She he increased her speed and rolled into the entryway before the main door closed. The oak door stood no chance against Laz.

Murder in her eyes she rolled to her feet. Giles the butler was in the hallway, holding a small sidearm. Laz raised her hand and moved in to kill.

"STOP!" the voice thundered through the room and Laz looked up to see Jack White, the Patriot, float down from the second floor, dressed in full
Patriot regalia. The same outfit Patri-ette uses, only designed for the male form.

Patriot looked calmly at the intruder. "Please explain, Miss Laz, this unannounced invasion of my home?"

Laz reached out, grabbed Patriot by the flowing cape, and slammed him harshly into a wall. Wall decorations rattle and fell, and a crystal vase fell off a
shelf and shattered.

Patriot turned around and faced Laz. Laz stared dagges at the man. "Take me to that fucking whore of a sister of yours, so I can RIP HER FUCKING HEAD
OFF!"

The man stared impassively at her, and said only one word. "No."

Laz howled in fury and rained blows down on Patriot. If Jack had been a normal man, he would have been killed by the punches combined with the draining
ability of the darkness powers coming from Laz. But Jack possessed the Patriot powers, which included the ability to absorb any form of physical damage.
Instead of dodging or blocking, Jack stood there and took it. Blow after blow hit him, some causing him to reel back, but always he returned to the same spot,
and his expression never changed. He simply kept looking at her, impassively, occasionally glancing at the grandfather clock on the other side of the room. The
only difference was the glow that started to come from Jack's body with increasing brightness, and the humming sound that increased in pitch and
volume.

After several minutes of this, Laz fell to her knees, gasping for breath.

Patriot looked down at her. "Are you finished?"

Laz screamed again and launched herself at Patriot. Again, Patriot stood there impassively waiting out the storm. A few more minutes passed and Laz slid
down from where she had been pounding on Patriot's chest.

"I guess not. Are we done now?"

Laz just glared up at the man with hate-filled eyes.

"Now what, pray tell, was my sister supposed to have done to earn such ire?"

"She beat up and raped my sister, the bitch!"

Patriot's eyes briefly flashed concern. "When did this happen?"

"Earlier tonight. They had a date and when Gir came home she had been mauled by your sister."

Patriot frowned. "Did Gir say this?"

"No, but the wounds…"

Patriot looked at Laz and gave a sigh of disappointment. "My sister couldn't have done this."

"YOU LIE!"

For the first time since she entered the house, Patriot showed anger. "I…DON'T…LIE!" he thundered.

In spite of her anger, Laz was taken aback by the outburst.

"Now, if you are done making blind accusations, I will show you WHY I know my sister didn't do this. You can either come with me and learn the truth,
or we can go for another round of you futilely attempting to hurt me. THIS time, however, I will fight back…and I absorbed every blow you hit me with, and can
channel it into my return punch." With that, he floated back up to the room he entered from.

Laz wasn't really concerned with Patriot's threat and was half tempted to take him up on the offer, but her rage was abated enough that she wanted
to know the truth. Grudgingly, she climbed the stairs and followed Patriot into the next room.

###

The Guardhouse (Virtue League's Base) - Moments Later

Patriot stepped off the transport pad and walked through a couple of rooms into the computer center. Laz followed behind, glaring at the man. Patriot sat at
the computer and punched in some commands "This is why Anne can't have done anything to Gir...or anyone else for that matter."

On the screen was a thermal view of a form lying somewhere. There was a time display in one corner showing the current time.

"What is this?" Laz said.

"This is a thermal view of Anne's bathroom. For privacy reasons, standard imagery is not allowed in the bathing area."

"What's she doing?"

"Lying in the bathtub…the same thing she's been doing since Wednesday."

Laz's anger dropped abruptly. "Is…is…she alright?"

"I don't know. She came into the manor on Wednesday, pale as a sheet going 'Oh my god' repeatedly. She ran into her room, peeling off her
uniform as she ran, and went straight into the shower. The shower ran for approximately one hour. When it was done she fell into the position you see her in
now and has been there ever since. Computer shows she is breathing, and shows no injuries. However, she secure-locked the room when she went in. Nothing short
of a thermonuclear blast could get in that room now, and even that is debatable."

"Why is that?"

"The secure-lock system was put in during the last Rikti war. It's designed as a panic room in the event of a Rikti invasion. The walls and doors
are bolted through with solid Impervium, and the room is surrounded by a field that blocks teleportation."

"Why is she lying there?"

"I don't know that either. She hasn't moved. She doesn't respond to the speaker or any other attempts to contact her. Her cell phone went
off repeatedly earlier today, but she didn't respond."

"... Gir has no idea... wait. If Patti's here, then what the hell happened to Gir?"

"How would I know that? Since Wednesday night, I've been here trying to help my sister, hoping something I'll say or do will get through to
her. I've cancelled my patrols, and all my other social activities." He turned to look at Laz. "Yet your first reaction was to come here,
swinging your 'sword of justice' on an assumption, instead of helping your sister in her moment of need."

Laz froze as Jack's comments sunk in. "Oh shit."

"Real heroes get all the facts and help the victims before they go to seek confrontation. You would do good to remember that." Jack chided.

"…I…have to go. Fuck! I've gone and done it again."

Jack pushed a button. "I've released the security barriers on the house. Our teleport center is still under construction, so you'll have to
leave the way you came in."

Laz wasn't listening. She had to get back to Gir.

###

I'm currently looking for a few brave souls to help me out as a sounding board as I try to make a comeback into the wild, wild world of fanfic writing.
Alas, this won't be me coming back to work on SME though, I'm experimenting with other ideas though.

Current projects I'm tinkering with:

• Blood Will Tell, a Mugen Senshi Valis fic, with special guest appearances by other characters by the Wolf Team,
  such as everyone's favorite scion of Hastur, Annet Meyer.
  
  
• A Code Geass fic tenativly named Rebirth, a continuation fic with a twist or three. (Who would seriously be
  expecting a twist in a Geass fanfic, really?)
  

Dear gods, tell me this isn't real.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

Alas, it's actually a busy time at this spaceport... but it's still a good image.

NASA: http://www.nasa.gov/multimedia/imagegal ... _1351.html]Atlantis launch, seen from behind Endeavour's launch pad
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

A pic of everyone's "favorite" mind/psi dom in her "dere-dere" mode of her yandere personality.


''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

"John," a voice noted from behind the swordsman as a crackle announced the entry of someone through the teleportation gateway. He turned, coming face
to face with a gentleman of indeterminate age. The pale man had no hair under his wide-brimmed hat and he seemed to have not seen the sun in several months. In
fact, if not for the hat and the reflective golden glasses that he wore, his facial features would almost resemble nothing more than a more humanoid version of
the Column's(no, the Council's, John reminded himself again) Vampyri, or a particularly animate skull. He wore
a plan, dark navy blue cloak over a similar colored great coat, along with some hard leather gloves and folded over boots that had gone out of style amongst
the major populace decades ago. All in all, he seemed to be a figure that had stepped out of a Victorian era intrigue novel or movie, and he gazed at the
Eleventh Hour co-leader with an impassive expression.

"Alistair!" John Prester said as he moved to shake the hand of the newcomer that'd just entered the base. "I'd gotten your letter a
while ago that said you were coming back. You made it faster than I predicted."

Alistair smiled back somewhat wanly. In truth, the expression looked almost alien to him, the elder looking mage removing his hat and adjusting his glasses as
he similarly doffed his cloak and hung it up on the coat rack. "Winter's assistance is to be thanked for that, John. Her training's coming along
well. She's almost ready to handle herself on her own. Especially with the new magic she's learning from what Eloise has researched in the latest
changes in theory here."

John nodded, leading Alistair down the stairs and into the somewhat minimalist study and library that the base currently possessed. "I'm afraid
it's not quite as good as the brownstone back in London, but it serves its purpose for now," he explained.

Alistair made a dismissive motion. "Not a problem, John. Really, if it has more of the modern spellwork that you sent us papers on while we were in
Tunguska, I'm sure Eloise will be absolutely fascinated by it. She's already working out new spellcraft based on that paper you sent her about atomic
level necromancy."

John looked up, intrigued. "Really? What's she managed to do with it?"

Alistair chuckled. "She's begun practicing the reversal and selective decay on an atomic level in order to produce radiation by channeling natural
magical energies. It takes a good deal of concentration to keep the effect running, but I dare say, her results are quite effective. Especially when we ran
into some of those Devouring Earth creatures you were telling me about."

"They've spread all the way to Asia?" John confirmed, Alistair nodding. "That's unfortunate. We knew they'd made it to the Rogue
Isles, but transit between there and Paragon City is so common it's almost as if they're the same city sometimes. The Hamidon's range of control
must be growing. We're still working with MAGI about researching the process that he used to turn himself into the Hamidon in the first place...."

Alistair sat down in the chair, nodding. "Eloise actually began her inquiries into her current spells because of that...she thinks it's something to
do with mixing other sciences with magic itself to produce new results."

"Really? That bears investigating indeed," John nodded, and Alistair leaned in as the two mages began considering the various possibilities, pulling
out some scrolls and tomes as they worked. Alistair smiled to himself. It was good to be back.

***

Eloise Schadel had been reading barely ten minutes when she heard a familiar accent of indiscernable neighborhood, just as she'd expected the minute
she'd walked in the Midnight Club's front door. "Well, it's bloody good to see you about here!"

Eloise looked over her shoulder before smiling, the sorceress walking forward to embrace the younger blonde that'd called her name. "It's good to
be back among friends again, Mercedes. We were rather surprised when we heard about the sudden call-up."

Mercedes shrugged, smiling still. "Well, I can't say that times have been the best, between the Rikti returning and my own troubles. But you being
back certainly does help things. Is Alistair with you as well?"

"Yes, and Winter as well. Truth be told, that's why I'm here. I needed to look up an old acquaintance," she smiled.

Mercedes chuckled. "And naturally, the woman that can't keep track of her own things is expected to keep track of every Midnighter's
schedule."

"It's why you're club secretary and treasurer, Mercedes," Eloise teased, getting a laugh.

"Too right. More's the pity," Mercedes said. "So, who is it you're looking to find?"

***

"Well. Settling in well enough, Winter?"

Winter looked up from where she was finally unpacking the last of the boxes, her reflection staring back at her from the reflective surfaces of her
father's glasses. She smiled slightly, even as she set her box of keepsakes on the dresser. "Yeah, dad. Just fine. In fact, I think I finished before
you did," she smirked slightly.

Alistair considered her, a slight chuckle escaping him despite his usual cool manner. "You did at that, dear. Even if you brought twice as much as we did
for the study," he pointed out.

"That just proves I'm more organized," she tossed back, and Alistair chuckled again, acknowledging the point. "Well, if you're all set
up here, I'll be in the study," he said, stepping out of her room. Winter nodded as he did, before waiting until she heard the study's door click
closed and sighing, stretching out across her bed. She loved her father, she really did, but he was so clueless sometimes....

"He can be a little dense, can't he?"

Winter blinked, before shooting upright as her mother entered. "Uh...what do you mean?"

Eloise looked at her with an amused expression that Winter knew she herself tended to mimic when talking to her father. While she'd inherited his deathly
pale skintone, there'd been no mistaking the source of the rest of her looks, or where she'd gotten her stark white hair, even if she didn't have
her mother's coffee brown complexion. Putting such tangents aside, she decided for once not to play dumb. It rarely worked with her mother anyway.

"I know Tunguska wasn't much better, but....this is the third move in five years, mom...."

Eloise smiled softly, sitting down next to her daughter on the bed as she ran a hand through her hair. "Well, I'm no seer, but I suspect this one will
be different."

"Dad said that about Moscow," Winter noted glumly.

"Yes, but this is different from there too. For one thing, the old group is reforming here. John said even Trigram's shown up again."

Winter laughed, looking up at the white cat that'd walked into the room. "Hear that, Callie? Your eternal foe's here as well."

Callie meowed questioningly, and Winter just shook her head, catching the cat as she leapt into her arms and scratching her ears. "So, besides that, what
else is different?"

"Well, for one thing, the Midnight Club's operating in Paragon again...."

Winter blinked as her mother continued.

"In fact, if you register an appointment, I imagine you can even track down Ashley again...when she's not working, of course."

Winter looked back at her before grinning slightly wider and setting Callie down before hugging her mother and bolting out of the room, a quick "Thanks
mom!" trailing after her. Eloise smiled softly to herself as her husband looked after the rapidly departing young girl.

"....you always handle her better," Alistair noted, a touch glumly.

"It's not that hard, dear. Just think of her less like a mage apprentice in training and more like a teenage girl that wants what every teenage girl
wants and you'll do fine."

"Perhaps," Alistair said dubiously. Eloise chuckled at his expression which quite possibly suggested his daughter was as hard to understand as
ancient Sumerian to him. "Well, with her out of the way for the night, shall we attend to a quick night's patrol?"

Eloise chuckled, standing up as a quick cast summoned her robes around her. Alistair waited until they got to the exit before doing the same, a virtual flow of
skeletal iconography decorating his coat and cloak even as a bare skull replaced his face. "Honestly, people these days. You'd think it'd take
less than this gaudy outfit to frighten them into talking when confronted with a mage of some importance."

"Well, you do mostly just punch them," Eloise chuckled, putting an arm around Alistair's forearm.

"With energy from the Netherworld itself. I'll have you know the enchantments involved there are very precise...."

"Of course they are, dear. You still just punch them in the face...."

"That's an oversimplification."

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

So I asked in the Legendary channel for arc Ideas. Acyl proposed this one:

Arc Name: Save the Skulls!

Arc ID: 168980

Morality: Heroic

Creator: @Niteflier

Difficulty Level: Easy

Synopsis:

Someone has dropped off crates of firearms in Kings Row! Now all the little old ladies that had their purses snatched are looking for revenge!

Level range is 1-14, so bring your lowbies!

I was going through my characters to badge them with the 5 year badge, and I noticed something entertaining.

My oldest character, and first 50, the Kat/Inv scrapper Paradoxe....has 52 (well, 51 now) tailor sessions.

Anyone beat that?

[table]

So it started with a concept:

A Mastermind that did not do any direct damage, instead, relying on her Bots to do it for her. 50 levels later, this is the result.