Quote:From inside, her voice rang out in a wail. "This park -sucks-!"Okay, that goes on the Legendary quote wall.
What?
Well, make one!
-- Bob
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Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
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Tales of The Legendary: Snippets of The Legendary
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 What? Well, make one! -- Bob --------- Then the horns kicked in... ...and my shoes began to squeak. 
A ripple of laughter came from the booth as Lynna sipped at her hot chocolate across the table from Braende. "That's priceless. I can totally see her doing that," Lynna said. "Honestly...I have to thank you. I know I like her, but I don't....know her, if you know what I mean?"
Braende nodded slightly, smiling at her somewhat. "I suppose I do. I had the benefit of being her friend for some time before I made my move..." "Still....I guess...I'm hoping that this doesn't turn into a competition," Lynna said, looking serious for a moment. "I....well, I really like V...but if you get hurt by this, it's going to hurt her and..." The two of them looked uncomfortable for a moment, before Lynna broke the silence, going for a lame joke. "I don't want to hurt her, so I guess you have to stick around, whether you like it or not." Braende looked up at that, mildly surprised but not really letting it show. "So I guess I'll be seeing a lot more of you then?" Lynna chuckled. "Are we talking frequency, or skin surface percentage?" she teased. "Well, I should hope both," Braende returned, finding herself warming to the girl's challenge. "It'd be a pity to only see you naked once." "I feel like I owe it to you, given the current situation," she laughed, looking at the still somewhat sopping wet white dress from her stumble into a pool near the sidewalk earlier, that did little to hide Braende's natural features at all. "Fair's fair, after all." Leaning back, she chuckeld. "See, I like this. V usually just blushes whenever I tease her. You fight back." "I try not to be an easy target," the blaster noted, rewarming her drink slightly. "And I imagine it's your lucky day." "I'll say....unfortunately, my tastes in clothes are a bit darker, so we'd have to shower together if I was to return the favor." "Well, we do have a shower big enough in our apartment, if you wanted," she smirked. Lynna considered. "I'd bunk on your couch to get out of the crapsack that is my current place, but that'd be a little awkward, as much as I'd enjoy the better views." "Especially in the mornings," Brae smiled thinly, which got a laugh from her companion. "Still, there are a few empty ones in the building..." "Yeah, but then I'd..." Lynna stopped as a small lightswitch clicked in her brain. "You'd what?" "...well, if my shower were to develop an awful...clog one morning...." Braende raised an eyebrow, curious where this was going. Lynna smiled slyly at her. "Really awful clog. I just couldn't clear it out, but I'd need my morning shower....perhaps I could borrow yours." "Well, as long as you don't hog all the hot water...it'd be the only neighborly thing we could do..." "Well, you'd be around to make sure I didn't," she smiled. "If it was sufficiently early enough..." "...ah. I see...." Brae noted, amused at the concept. "We'd have to explain ourselves..." "Oh, I'm sure we could find suitable...explanation." "I think I like the way you think..." *** 7:45 buzzed Valles' alarm clock as the young woman groggily made a couple misses at the alarm clock, not exactly wanting to exit a rather fascinating dream before she finally pulled herself out of bed. Hearing the shower running, she perked up somewhat, heading for the bathroom. If Brae was already in there... All in all, however, the view that came to her eyes as she wandered in was possibly the last thing she'd expected....namely, her two significant others currently doing their best to lather and rinse each other in the shower. Lynna looked up, smiling at her. "Oh, hey, V. I hope you don't mind. My shower developed this awful clog, and well...you know how it is." Her commentary was somewhat enhanced by various rubbing of the soap in various areas. Valles looked at the situation for a second, considered the size of the shower, and shrugged. "Okay. Just make sure Brae keeps the water hot after you're done," she said, grabbing her toothbrush and heading over to the sink. The two girls were promptly pretty much ignored as V brushed her teeth, flossed, brushed her hair out, and then went out of the bathroom, presumably for breakfast. Lynna looked at the door, then at Braende, then down slightly. "....y'know, if I were the insecure type, I'd be considering a little...adjustment, y'know?" she said to Brae, who snickered. *** Outside, V waited until the door closed behind her and the sounds of showering were once more heard before walking into the little kitchenette on the other side of the apartment...and then let her face break into a wide grin. "They're getting along! Yes!" she whispered to herself, indulging a little happy dance. "They like each other! They really like each oth-oof!" At which point the rug under her foot decided to slide on its own, dropping her ungracefully to the floor. "...ow...." *** Editor's note: The conversation between B and Lynna is almost verabatim from in game. The almost primarily comes from editing the conversation for content and considerable amounts of not-very-subtle subtext. --- "Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay waste."
A somewhat bedraggled group of Legendary and Riot Force members stepped out of Terra Volta late in the evening, another attempt on the reactor by the Sky
Raiders thwarted. Terrence activated his Ouroborus portal for several that could access it to get home, while Lynna held Valles up somewhat as she watched Enynn drastically adjust Tam's worldview again by suggesting they retire home for a nightcap. Given the earlier sparks flying between the two, Lynna wasn't surprised at all when the young Peacebringer followed the redhead into the sky, heading off to wherever the redhead called home. Watching Terrence warp out via the Ouro portal and Sammy head off into Pocket D muttering something about security levels and "jerks!", Lynna smiled softly as she looked over at Valles. "You look ready to go to bed." "I...." a long yawn broke the young woman's train of thought, as she caught herself and pressed the button on her storage widget that brought her back to the cute little white dress that she'd picked out for their date. Lynna made a mental note to have Braende help convince her to keep it. Walking to the Green Line, the two talked about this and thats in the late evening, enjoying each other's mutual company. Stepping inside the railcar, Lynna found them a pair of seats, enjoying the feeling as V leaned over onto her shoulder. As they approached their destination, however, Lynna looked over at V to let her know, only to be confronted with the fact that her girlfriend had fallen asleep entirely on the trip there. Which was saying something, Lynna noted to herself, given the ride had only taken about seven minutes or so. Shaking her slightly and talking to her failed to rouse the young woman, and so, with a sympathetic look from the conductor, Lynna physically lifted the somewhat slighter girl out of her seat and onto the station platform. This alone pretty much exhausted what little physical strength Lynna really had, but it let her out of the train, allowing her to do what she was fairly sure she could. Shifting into her Dwarf form, she reached down and gently cradled the now much lighter V in her large claws and walked out of the station, before getting a clear line of sight to do a short teleportational hop. Thus, she slowly made her way towards the Paragon University campus, and home. *** Braende looked over as the phone in the apartment rang, setting her book down and picking it up. "Yes?" "Hey, B? This is Sephie down at the lounge desk. Natalie's here with a friend of hers, but I think they're gonna need your help getting her up to your room." Braende blinked slightly, before shrugging. "Okay, I'll be on my way." As she headed to the elevator, she wondered why exactly Lynna(and she was sure it was Lynna. They had been out on a date, after all) would need her help getting Valles upstairs. She couldn't imagine that Lynna had been able to get V drunk, or that she'd bring her here first if she'd been injured on some heroic escapade. Thus it was with puzzlement, not worry, that Braende stepped out of the elevator and walked into the front lounge of the apartment complex. Looking around, she failed to see anyone, catching the eye of the stark white haired girl sitting at the front desk. Sephie smiled friendily enough at her, pointing at the front door with a look that suggested suppressed humor. Braende gave her an amused look and went to the door.... ...where she was confronted with the image of a sleeping V, in a dress most likely to be the one she'd mentioned getting for the date itself at Icon, cradled in the enormous stone-like claws of a Black Dwarf, which was doing its best to look somewhat a mixture of sheepish and nonchalant as it stood on the front porch of the building. As Braende looked at it, the massive stone creature gave a slow, ponderous shrug, as if to say "I don't know what to do now". Lowering her gently into Braende's arms, Lynna shifted back into her human form, sighing slightly. "Sorry. Ended up saving Terra Volta," she noted. "V was...well, you know how she is." "Ah. Overexerted herself with her blast powers?" Braende asked as she slipped one of V's arms over her shoulders. "Yeah, pretty much," Lynna said as the two carefully guided the still sleeping V into the elevator. "Poor girl needs to work on her stamina." "You have no idea how long I've been saying that to myself," Braende chuckled, pressing the button for their floor. --- "Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay waste." 
Alice paused in her sandwich preparations as a resounding crash echoed down the hall, followed by a plaintive "Aw, crud!" from her newest roommate.
Frowning slightly, she finished the final assembly, dropped the butter knife in the sink, and ambled down the hall towards the ruckus, sandwiches in hand. "Problem?" she inquired from the doorway. Sammy looked up. She was bent over, holding a double armful of... well, 'stuff' was the only word Alice could bring to mind. "There's just so -much- of it, Alice!" Sammy plopped on the bed, still holding the assemblage of junk. "The shelf couldn't hold it all...." She gestured with her chin at the broken bracket hanging on the wall. "What -is- it all?" Alice inquired, taking a bite of her sandwich. "Some old lady's wedding band, a bunch of funky-looking shotgun shells, a tin whistle that supposedly calls a warwolf -- who'd want one of those, ick? -- a revolver..." Sammy ticked items off one by one as she set them on the bed next to her. "And that's just from one -day-!" She looked at Alice plaintively. "Where am I supposed to keep it all?" Alice grinned and stepped into the room, offering Sammy the other sandwich. "Striga?" "Yeah." "Yeah, they like giving you stuff there." Alice sat down next to her friend. "Don't worry, it'll only get worse." "Oh, ok -- hey!" --sofaspud --"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs
"Starting mark is in ten seconds..."
I hear the guys in the control room, distantly. I'm in the zone right now. Ready for that starting mark to go off. "Nine seconds." My engines rev inside as I feel pistons and artificial muscle fibers warm up, ready for the run that I was made for. "Eight seconds." People really don't know how long ten seconds can be, but most people aren't designed to go one thousand, one hundred and twenty nine feet in one. "Seven seconds." The concept of failure here is alien to me. I'm precision engineered, and unless some catastrophic technical failure occurs, I'm about to make history. "Six seconds." I lower myself into a starter's crouch. An affectation, really. I can be off the mark from a standing start. I guess there's a little of a racer in me after all. "Five seconds." I wait, and decide that's enough time waiting, speeding up my internal clock to get the show on the road. "Foursecondsthreesecondstwosecondsonesecondmark!" And then I run. A full kilometer is gone in under five seconds, and I'm still accelerating. Nothing but glassy white sand as far as my optical visor can see. The airspeed sensors in my slicked back antenna array send my telemetry to home base, and my internal systems, as my groundspeed goes higher and higher and higher. 400 MPH. 500 MPH. 600 MPH. At 700 MPH, certain loose mechanisms in brace themselves for the impact as I approach the sound barrier. The wind resistance and friction is incredible at this speed, and I can feel my legs heating up, despite the coolant and lubricant applied to them, as I head towards that perfect, round number. Then I hit it. 760 MPH and climbing, I feel a slight layer of inertia fade away as I literally outrun sound itself. I know back at the base camp, a crack of thunder's just emanated from position, but I'm moving too fast for it to catch up with me. Shockwaves from my passing send sand flying everywhere as I reach the limits of the course, slowing into a wide banking turn and then accelerating again, hitting another sonic boom as I reach that glorious straightaway. I'm not paying attention to any of my telemetry now. All that matters is the raw, undiluted sensation of speed. Other machines would fall apart from the sheer friction this level of acceleration requires, but I revel in it. In fact, it's a bit of a letdown when I see the basecamp approach, slowing myself down to come to a stop. I skid past the camp by about 100 miles, and jog back at a much more sedate pace of about 90 MPH. The team are all hooting and yelling and cheering, and I know that I did it. Not that they need to tell me. I could feel it in the air. The crew and I head back into town, and they all buy rounds of drinks at the local bar as I just sit there and bask in the accomplishment. I'm the fastest thing on the planet....until someone tries to beat me. Let'em try. I could use the race. --- "Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay waste."
Thwiff! Thwiff THWIFF thwiff Thwiff THWIFF!
Thwiff! Purrfect Scrapper growled under her breath and swiped again. Thwiff! "How have you managed to go this long on your own?" Terrence Knight wondered aloud from his relaxed slouch against the wall as he watched Sammy flail ineffectually at the tiny hovering practice target a scant foot in front of her. "Hey!" "No, seriously," he continued. "That's...." He shrugged. "That's pretty pitiful, really. It's a -practice- target, Sammy. It doesn't even fight back. It barely even dodges." "But I do just fine out there! It's THESE stupid things--" and here Sammy took a frustrated swipe at the glimmering target ball, which obligingly registered a hit for a change, "-- that I can't hit!" "Don't forget that storm shaman." "Well, yeah," she admitted grudgingly. "But it wasn't like he was hurting me, either. Once his hurricane wore off I shredded him." "Yeah, I saw." Terrence paused as a thought struck him. He pushed himself off the wall and clapped a comforting hand on Sammy's back. "C'mon, kid, I have an idea." "Uncle Terr!" Sammy's tail twitched in indignation. "I'm -not- a kid anymore!" "(Be safer if you were,)" Terrence mumbled under his breath. Sammy frowned at him, but apparently hadn't quite caught what he'd said. "So where are we going?" Sammy asked, falling into step beside him. "You'll see," he answered with a grin. -----\ "But... but... but..." "You sound like a boat motor," Terrence put in helpfully. Sammy glowered at him through her newest acquisition, a pair of glasses custom-built only a few minutes previously. The optometrist was good, Terrence had to admit. Not only had he not even batted an eye at Sammy's appearance, he'd instantly suggested the combat-rated lenses and frames. "If the young miss can destroy these," he'd said with a smile, "I'll refund double the price AND get her a new pair." "But I don't NEED glasses!" she wailed. "Not what the doctor said," Terrence replied. "I'm not gonna wear 'em. I'll look stupid." "Your choice." Terrence shrugged. "But I'm not gonna teach you anymore unless you can hit stuff." Sammy was silent for the next few minutes, as they made their way back towards the base. Finally, she sighed. "Oh, fine. But I still don't like 'em." "They look good on you." "Really?" "Yeah. Makes you look cute. Hides that trainwreck you call a face." "Uncle Terr!" Not quite how it happened, but close enough. After Terr suggested slotting Acc bonuses, I -had- to do it. ![[Image: smile.gif]](http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/images/emoticons/smile.gif) --sofaspud --"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs 
Opmegs? Who are you writing about? Because that almost sounds like it could be Cyberman 8. ^_^
Thats Op's new En/En Blaster, Boost SSC (I think thats the spelling). I think when we all get up there, C8, Boost, and Swift need to have a run together.
--- 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
Heh. That'll be fun.
I can tell you now, that though they might equal C8's speed in-game, it'll be impossible to surpass it. It's capped at the top end of the scale. Counting up all his possible bonuses gives me a figure of 135.72 MPH with Elude up, and 110.66 MPH at "normal" cruising speed. (Found by going into the Combat Attributes screen and counting up all the movement bonuses)
"You missed a great run," Sammy pointed out as Alice entered the living room.
"Sorry about that," Alice replied. "I was caught up with some other stuff. You handled it, right?" "Oh, we -kicked- his -butt-." Sammy grinned. "I dunno what you were worried about, Burkholder's a wuss." "I just can't believe he went to all that trouble to rebuild his robot, or the base, for that matter." Sammy shrugged. "Well, it was pretty straightforward. Not much changed from what you told me about, far as I can tell. Well, there was one thing... heh." She let a sly smile creep onto her face. Alice frowned. "What's so funny?" "Oh, nothing, really." Sammy got up and stretched, then ambled towards the hallway leading to her room. "Just... I'm kinda proud of myself." "I'm proud of you too. You did good." Sammy paused by the hallway, looking back over her shoulder at Alice. "Yep. We did." She winked. "And -I- did it with my clothes -on-." Alice blushed and surged to her feet. "HEY!" Sammy's giggling echoed down the hall as she bolted into her room and locked the door. --sofaspud --"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs
A clomp of armored feet was the first warning Singularity Scimitar had before she was knocked to the side by an armored fist. She growled, coming up with
blasters charging only to be faced by a metaphorical smack to the face: her opponent was the spitting image of a combat ready BU-55C. Chunks of stone were fused to its chassis as makeshift armor, and electricity crackled around its armored forearms, but the resemblance was uncanny. She fired a blast of energy from her gauntlets, but they simply cracked some of the stone and Singularity received another electrified punch to her face in reward. Stumbling, she gasped in pain as a high tuned laser burned through her leg, dropping her to the ground as several robots she recognized as the most common type employed by villians with mechanical tendenceies gathered around her. A pair of the larger support robots also exited the alleyway....and Singularity's eyes went wide behind her helmet as she recognized the man in a sharply tailored suit that followed them. "Madigan, Madigan, Madigan....to think I'd see you out here on the front lines. I thought you were more of a coordinator type. Or have you adapted Quincy's habit of robotic duplicates?" "Largo....ah shoulda known ye'd be involved in all this rubbish." "Indeed. Admittedly, mostly by accident. The destruction of my original shell put me back by a few months. This, though.....this world has such potential. Potential to build an army that could overrun anything GENOM could create. And from there....well, there are already portals here to other worlds. In time, the universe will kneel before me. All universes." "Ye've gone even more daft in th'head than ye were before, Largo." "Perhaps," Largo chuckled, looking at her with that infuriating arrogance. "Still, for the moment, that's insubstantial. What's important is that you have technology that belongs to me..." he smiled, looking at the gauntlet that contained Singularity's gravity projector. Madigan stumbled backwards, bringing it up towards him. "Ye want this? Have as much as ye can take!" Gravimetric bonds reached out, taking hold of the mastermind and attempting to crush him. Largo smirked slightly, resisting the damage with ease. "Really, that wasn't well considered," he smiled, as the attack drones pounced on her at his mental command. Metal rang on metal as the drones mercilessly beat on the out matched Scimitar, until another mental command had them back off, two holding Madigan down. "....fine...do what ye will....they'll make more," she spat behind a cracked visor. "I'll be back on the street in a week." "Hmm, yes, that IS a problem..." Largo noted. "I guess an example will have to be made of what happens when people tamper with things that belong to me." "Sir?" the support robot said, looking up. Largo nodded. "Remove them." The mech stepped forward, leftmost claw coming up. Madigan didn't understand till the claw began spinning. Faster, faster, building to a high pitched whine of a circular saw.... "No...no....NO!" *** "Damn...what could do this to her?" "Staunch the bloodflow and get a drip flowing into her. Her armor's internal torniquet kept her from bleeding out, but she's still lost a lot." "Any sign of the weapons?" "No. That's probably what they took. Obviously." "Can we repair the loss?" "Unlikely. They'd target her again." "New armor entirely?" "Most likely." "Send out a memo to the HQ. They need to know someone's started taking limbs along with the weapons..." *** The target was molten slag in a few seconds as Madigan, now operating under the codename of "Inferno Scimitar", considered what'd happened to her. She ignored the irritated whirring and clicking her advanced audio sensors could pick up from the purely mechanical replacement arms that the Crey scientists had had to graft onto her. The facilities Crey kept underground in Mercy and Port Oakes were rather minor, and utterly unsuited to this sort of thing. According to the doctor, she'd have to get as far as Nerva before getting to Crey facilities that could replace her arms entirely to what they'd been before. It didn't really matter to her. Cold alloy would do for the moment. Just as the flames they'd equipped her with would do as well. Normally, she'd kept rather cool under pressure, but this was twice that Largo had upstaged her now....and this time it'd hurt. She wanted his head, and she wanted it to be as painful for the bastard as possible. And if she had to roast him alive herself...well, that'd be a bonus.... --- "Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay waste." 
Ops, your imagination is a scary disturbing place, I can too easly see largo doing something like that.its a scary mental image. Bzzzzrrr!
Madigan is reaaaly going to have a bone to pick with Largo, I only hope i get first crack at him with Terr *grin*, Good stuff. Can We have Moar?
Terrence Knight and Leon McNichol stood about ten feet apart, facing each other, unmoving. The merciless sun beat down, but they might as well have been
statues. From time to time a passerby would stop and look before moving on. A cloud scuttled across the sky. "What are they -doing-?" Purrfect Scrapper asked from her position high in the branches of a nearby tree. From her perch on the ledge that the tree hung over, Net Sabre chuckled. "They're staying cool," she said. Sammy gave her a puzzled look. Out in the plaza, a woman -- a civilian, by her dress -- stopped and looked thoughtful, then smiled to herself and stepped up to Terrence. She leaned close to him, whispering something into his ear. His only reaction was to cock his head to listen, then shake his head. "Well... if you're sure..." the woman said. Terrence mumbled something that neither of the observers could make out. "Okay, I suppose. Can... can I at least give you my number? Just, y'know, in case?" Terrence blushed, but accepted a slip of paper and a kiss on the cheek from the woman, who sighed sadly and moved on. He waited until she had vanished from sight, then held up the slip with an air of triumph. Leon smirked in response. "Five-five-five, six-seven, six-eight?" he inquired. Terrence looked at the slip, then stared at Leon in puzzlement. "Yeah. How'd you know?" "How did he know?" Sammy asked Net, who held up one gauntlet in a 'shush' gesture. Leon grinned and shrugged. "She gave me her number yesterday." "This is stupid, you know," Terrence said. "Hey, just admit it. You've got style, Knight, but c'mon -- you know I'm the best.." "In your dreams, McNichol." "Meatshield." "Geek." "... I'm not the one with the anime collection, Terrence." "Shut up." --sofaspud --"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs
Terrence has the goods, but he simply cannot out-cool the original.
Not that Nene will let "Leon-poo" off the hook any more than she does Terr. ![[Image: laugh.gif]](http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/images/emoticons/laugh.gif) --- "Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay waste."
Ms. Liberty hit the ground, hard, as she felt what might be a broken rib from where the impact of that plasma blast had hit her. She rolled to her feet, delivering a savage kick to machine's head, only to see the impact merely cause a ripple in the translucent forcefield surrounding it. Then she was running, dodging a burst of flame from the thing's weapon arm as its fellows closed in around her, delivering high velocity laser bursts. Any normal person would've been pierced several times over by the coherent light beams, but as it was, Ms. Liberty was taking more and more punishment as time went on, and the bots themselves didn't seem to be even slowing down.
Which was when the gravimetric blast shot out from the sidelines, sending her flying to the ground. The robots, obviously waiting for this opening, pummeled her with their entire combined arsenal, leaving Liberty lying beaten and her head swimming as she saw the architect of this walk in front of her. Shaped like a man, but Longbow's files on the man known as Maximilian Largo had been woefully inadequate. Blue metallic skin gleamed around machine-reinforced artificial muscle, and glowing red eyes looked at her with considerable amusement. Reaching down, the cybernetic terror lifted her up by her collar, and the small relief of watching her mother fade away in a medicom transport didn't suppress the feeling of dread as Liberty looked at the amused face of the thing that called itself Largo. "My, my, my, doesn't this seem....familiar almost," he smiled. "Unfortunately for you, there is no one coming for you like that long ago time and another heroine had coming for her. No one to save you from me." The robots closed in about their master, and even though Liberty knew better, she could almost see the hunger to destroy her in their emotionless optics, especially the large one with the scanning eye mounted in its armored faceplate. Then, with little ceremony, Largo dropped her to the ground. Liberty used what little strength she had to look up at him, glaring defiance. "Unfortunately, I am not yet in a position that I can kill you without repercussions. Thank your grandfather for making things so...complicated. But remember this loss, young lady Liberty. Remember it when you seek to thwart my plans, and remember that I can crush you myself without any assistance. Now...I have a dynasty to ensure," he smiled, as the golden light of an Ouroborus portal activated behind him. "Pleasant dreams." And with that, Liberty felt a sharp pain to the side of her head, and then nothing. *** Priss jerked awake, breathing heavily as she tried to let the recurring nightmare fade from her awareness, staring out the window at the Statue in the middle of Blyde Square. That, more than anything else, helped calm her. She wasn't back in Tokyo. She was in Paragon City. And all those nightmares were left far behind. Relaxing, Priss settled back into bed, a touch of amusement coming to mind over the fact her bedmate hadn't so much as rolled over when Priss woke up. Priss knew if there was one thing the two of them didn't have in common, it was their morning habits. Priss wasn't the lightest of sleepers either, but from the looks of it, she was going to have to make breakfast again. Pulling the covers up around both of them, Priss slid back into sleep, comforting herself with present rather than dwelling on the past. --- "Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay waste." Quote: ... delivering high velocity laser bursts... I'm not -certain-, but I think you meant to say "intensity"; as a laser, it's pretty much moving as fast as is known to be possible -anyway-. *grin* I further note that Priss's bedmate is left unidentified. Now you've got me curious, dammit.  Nice stuff. Honestly, this feels like a teaser, of sorts; less of a snippet, more of a "here's a glimpse of what's in the works". I hope that impression's correct, 'cause I wanna see more of El Bastardo Magnifico. --sofaspud --"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs
The cyborg formerly known as Vengeful Flame materialized on the base teleporter with no fanfare or fireworks. His burly form, atop deceivingly slender legs, moved forward with a mechanical gait, stopping as a figure entered his path. His glassy optics focussed, with the softest of whirring sounds, on the slender form of Braende, hovering in front of him.
"Query: How may I be of assistance?" He stated, his flat mechanical tones carrying the barest sliver of the 'questioning' intonation. "Hmmm." Braende replied, her brows knit in concentration. With a blast of fire, she shifted into her 'devil' costume, red lace straining against her ample form. "Query: How may I be of assistance?" The cyborg repeated, a stronger note of query in his voice. Braende made no reply, but posed, her hands on the back of her hips pushing her shoulders back and breasts forward in a seductive arch. "Query: If this unit may not be of assistance, may this unit return to it's designated charging station?" Braende relaxed from her pose and nodded, floating out of the way of the red and black cyborg, who walked with an unhurried mechanical pace towards the engineering bay setup for recharging. As she followed the retreating figure with her eyes, Braende pulled out a handcomm and sent a message. Quote:To: Vengy_Must_Die@listserv.legendary.com"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger." From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies
"High Energy" would best describe it, I think. As for Priss's bedmate, I think she and Linna (Dance Sabre Linna) are rooming together.
--- 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 
interesting places your going Ops. At first I thought it was a Priss/Ms Liberty pairing
And I'm both confused and ammused at Wires piece -Terry ----- "so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today" TF2: Spy
Appears Wire was typing that as I was responding to Ops.. I don't know just what to say to that bit of Wire's. o_o
--- 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
"So Gilbert, how do you wish to handle these
miscreants?" The voice at my waist asks. I glance down at the invisible penguin. Okay, he's not invisible to me. Just the mooks surrounding me. He's also my partner, so I gotta feed him the skinny. "With gloves Al." I answer him. "And then I'm going to throw 'em away, because those kind of stains don't come out." "Who are you talking to?" The object of our conversation asks me. It's a fair question, so I decide to answer it. "The penguin." I answer. Okay, so it is not exactly an illuminating answer, but this guy isn't paying me to provide him with an answer, and Momma MacHeath's favorite son gets paid for providing illuminating answers. "Penguin?" "Penguin. Flightless aquatic waterfowl. Specifically an Emperor Penguin; Aptenodytes forsteri. An it just so happens to be the tallest and heaviest of all penguin species." I give him the skinny. His meaty brow furrows as he tries to decide which one of us is garden variety crazy. Now I am about the sanest guy your gonna meet in your day; and the invisible, magic, snarky, British penguin can vouch for me. My name is Gil MacHeath. I'm a private dick. A shamus. The Invisible Talking Penguin is Alistaire, Al for short. He's not a private eye, he's an advisor to a magical warrior girl. Well he's not a private eye yet. I submitted the papers for him a few weeks ago, but City Hall hasn't exactly been swift in getting back to us. The gentlemen surrounding us are members of one of the local families. Mooks. Hoods. Gangsters. Take all the filth, corruption and garbage off the street, pour it into an expensive pin-stripe suit, add a bad hat, worse manners and you got an idea of what I am talking about. I've been asking questions about their business. They don't like people who ask questions about their business. Ergo they don't like me. It's the sort of deductive reasoning that earns me my hundred dollars a day, plus expenses.
Gil MacHeath. Private Investigator. Private Dick. Shamus. Gumshoe. Human Thesaurus.
Ebony the Black Dragon http://ebony14.livejournal.com "Good night, and may the Good Lord take a Viking to you." Quote: Ankhani wrote: Actually, Priss's trailer is over in the Hollows. We're not....sure where Linna's rooming at the moment(which is to say, we didn't really think about it.) As to her bedmate, well....there are clues there. Most notably where Priss is at the moment. I'm amazed Spud didn't get it off the bat. I thought I was being just short of densely obvious. :lol --- "Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay waste."
Hee I'm pretty sure I can guess. Its Nano saber Aka Sylvie.
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 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. --sofaspud --"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs |
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