Snippets Of The Legendary II: You Know, This Means War!

[Sofaspud]

Paragon City, the City of Heroes. That's what they say, anyway. As if there's some magical ward or all-knowing Customs agent who keeps the riff-raff
out. Heroes in the big P, villains in the Isles, and never the twain shall meet.

Yeah, right. It may be the City of Heroes, but it has its share of villains too. I should know. I'm one of them.

The thing is... I didn't start out that way. Most of us don't. I've talked to a lot of them. Here in the Zig, there's not much else to do
but swap stories and hope you make it through your sentence.

I'm supposed to get out tomorrow. Time off for good behavior, and let's face it, with all the tights out there busting bad guys left and right, the
Zig is getting a bit crowded. They're shuffling folks like me back out as fast as new faces come in.

I suppose I might be rehabilitated. I'm not sure. I guess we'll find out.

---

It feels good to let loose with the ladies again. My girls have been waiting for me while I was stuck in that hole. They're loyal to a fault, though I
wouldn't have held it against them if they'd felt another man's touch while I was in there.

Might've held it against him, now, but nobody'd fault me for that. Shouldn't touch another man's girls, simple courtesy.

Carmen to the left, Bella to the right; both moving in perfect synchrony, rising and falling as their voices ring out in beautiful harmony.

My hands tingle as the targets at the far end of the range register bulls-eyes. Both of them.

Ah, my girls and I. I'd missed them, and I can tell they'd missed me. They're the only things I miss, though.

First strike against me, of course. I'm not supposed to handle firearms. But these aren't ordinary guns. They're my girls. They belong
with me, and I with them.

We'll see how the parole officer takes it, I guess. If he ever finds out. I don't intend to make it easy for him.

---

The temptation to let Bella -- she's the hot-tempered one -- out to discuss matters with the shopkeeper is strong -- almost too strong. I know it's
just the girls wanting a little action. I restrain her, barely, and focus on what the scrawny little man in front of me is saying.

"-- like to help you out, really, but I'm sure you can see the difficulty."

"No," I tell him, "I don't. I'm qualified. I filled out the application. I'm a resident of legal age and I even graduated high
school. Why can't I be a cashier?"

The little man wrings his hands. "We've already filled the position, you see."

He's lying. I know it, he knows I know it, but it's how the game is played. He doesn't dare admit to me that he won't hire me because I'm
an ex-con; just like the twenty-dozen other employers I've applied at in the city. And it infuriates me. The old anger, the rage that the shrinks in the
Zig told me led to my being there in the first place, rises to the surface, and I'm tempted -- oh, horribly tempted -- to let the girls loose to have their
fun.

But I'm on thin ice as-is, and I know it. The shopkeeper knows it too; he's not hiding behind my parole officer, not literally, but that's the way
it seems.

"Okay then," I say, trying to stay polite. The bridge is already burned, but just in case, I need to stay on his good side. "I understand.
Keep me in mind if it opens up again?"

"Oh, I will, I will," he says, showing me to the door with more speed than I'd have credited him with. "Absolutely!"

He's lying again.

---

That night I'm on the docks. I don't have a place to stay -- the little bit of money that you earn in the clink doesn't last long on the outside,
and the girls have expensive tastes -- so I'm planning on dossing down inside this old shipping container I found. Someone else has been sleeping here,
looks like, but I don't figure they'll bother me if I don't bother them. If they even show up.

The night sky is beautiful, what I can see of it through the haze of the War Walls. Carmen rests in my palm, her delicate, understated lines a pleasing
contrast to Bella's heavier, edgier look. I squeeze her grip and she laughs softly. Carmen's the quiet one -- though no less deadly for all of that.
Bella doesn't like to admit it, but Carmen's more accurate, too. What she lacks is strength. Carmen is precision and ruthless efficiency; Bella is
overwhelming force and power. Between the two of them there's nothing they can't handle.

My attention is drawn to a noise outside. Sounds like a cape putting the beatdown on someone. I slip Carmen back into her holster and tug my jacket forward
to cover her sleek form; she values her privacy and I'm in no hurry to advertise that I'm packing, not while I'm still on parole. I move forward
quietly, peeking out of my makeshift shelter.

There on the beach stands a bedraggled hero. Growing up in the big P, you learn quick to tell at a glance what sort of hero you're looking at. The magic
types usually have robes, tech-heads have gadgets crawling out of the ears, the martial artists have that Look in their eyes, and so on. This guy isn't
any different, and I class him as a fantasy type in a heartbeat.

Well, the gleaming broadsword and the ornate shield help a little there, I'll admit.

He's taking on some Council. Which isn't a bad thing, I suppose. Those Council goons are jerks, but they're not wimps and they don't give up.
I wince as the biggest one of the bunch does some fancy martial-arts kick that leaves the cape sprawled on the sand, his shield bouncing into the surf.

I start to pull back -- none of my business, right? -- and catch sight of the cape's eyes. He's staring straight at me. I can tell from the way
he's twitching that he won't be getting up in time to stop the Council from sending him to the hospital, but something in his eyes stops me in my
tracks.

Oh, hell.

I grumble to myself, but the girls are excited at the thought of some real action instead of just range time. I get to my feet, settle my hat politely on my
head, and wander down to the party. It's stupid and reckless, but something about that cape lying there trying to get back up after having his bell rung
like that strikes a chord in me. He's a gutsy kid, whoever he is, and I got to respect that.

The Council goons are laughing and clapping each other on the back, their leader squatting down by the hero's face and making snide remarks. Fuggin'
Nazis. I don't bother getting fancy, and instead just apply a little bit of Bella action to the back of the nearest Council skull. She'd prefer to be
singing at him, sure, but this way I can claim the dumb sucker fell down and hit his head on a rock or something.

Carmen nudges me, pointing at the goon on my left, and I duck just in time to avoid his fist meeting my face. Love that girl, I do; even tucked away she's
always looking out for me. She's no good in this sort of fight and she knows it. She's a classy lady. Bella, on the other hand, is the sort of
hard-partying biker chick who loves a good rumble, and she's perfectly in her element right now. I can hear her laughing as she takes out his kneecaps --
one-two, crunch-crunch, scream -- and I can't help but grin a little.

That's two down, and the others are just about done spinning around to notice me.

"On yer feet, kid," I growl at the cape, kicking one of our opponents in the beanbag and stepping aside so his puke misses my boots. Bella screams a
warning at me -- Carmen too -- and I flip her in my grip, my thumb taking her off safety even as the barrel comes to rest on the face of a big guy I hadn't
noticed before. He's got a gun too, and it's much bigger than either of mine. Size isn't everything, yeah, yeah, but sheer volume of lead does
make a big difference. Fuggin' minigunners.

"Don't do it, buddy," I warn him. Carmen slithers out of her sheath and drops into my other hand, and I let her point where she wants to -- at
the leader, who looks to be getting ready to throw a grenade, of all things.

The kid wobbles -- finally! -- to his feet and stands there a moment, blinking rapidly and trying to get his body under control. I know what he feels like --
I've had my lights dimmed like that more than a few times, too -- but we don't have time for this.

"Who are you?" the Council leader growls.

"Friends call me Benny," I reply with a smirk, "but you can call me Sir."

"Cute," he spits. "I despise cute. Arnold, kill him!"

Shit. "I'm sorry, girls," I whisper as the minigun barrels begin to spin up. "Looks like I'll be away for a while again."

Their voices cry out as one, in perfect harmony. The two surviving Council goons don't have time to realize that they're already dead as Carmen and
Bella reach out and slaughter them. Ruthlessly, efficiently. Beautifully.

I hope they'll wait for me again.

---

Like the title says, it's a concept story for a potential dual pistols... something. I can't decide if he'd be a
hero or villain, really; he's very gray, morality-wise. This has been simmering for a couple days now and wouldn't leave me alone until I finished it.
When dual pistols come out, I'll be rolling Benny up, but for the life of me I can't think of a suitable name yet, heh.

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

[firvulag]

Oh very nice Spud. Though I had some of Tracer Bullet's lines running through my head while reading through it.

Let's see if I can do this from memory:

"I decided to introduce her to a friend of mine who's very close to my heart. Down and little to the left to be specific. My friend made three
profound arguments while I excused myself from the room. I always leave when the talk gets philosophical."

--

"The SCA has superior armor, close-in weapons, and experience; the RCMP have superior ranged weapons, including tear gas, water cannons and the threat of
real guns." -- Dan Ritter

[Sofaspud]

Firvulag wrote:

---

Oh very nice Spud. Though I had some of Tracer Bullet's lines running through my head while reading through it.

I had to Wiki that to figure out what you meant. I never knew Calvin and Hobbes had a detective ... um... alter ego, I guess.

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

[OpMegs]

"They were quite surprised when the helmet came off," Sylia admitted with a slight chuckle. "Shows what mystique my identity was apparently held
in, simply because I kept it hidden. And, of course, they were quite relieved when I mentioned I'd already informed you since you were helping us with
something else at the time. As if I'd planned that reveal for a time when you'd be away or something. If they only knew we'd been meeting like this
for months now."

"Well, I do pride myself upon due discretion, when the situation calls for it," her lunch partner smiled slightly, as she sipped at her tea.
"Certainly, they were most definitely aware your identity wasn't a secret to everyone. And Lora'lai and young Evangelia are the accepting sort,
even if I imagine they might've been a might jealous of those you saw fit to let in on it," Shizuru said. "But yes, the irony had occurred to me.
Much like it did when I realized one Miss Sylia Stingray, a long time business associate of Fujino Corporation, was an armored vigilante that I'd fought
alongside multiple times without realizing. Which is quite a feat on your part, I do declare," she chuckled.

Sylia nodded in recognition of the successful jab before leaning back. "In other business, however...I was wondering if you'd mind extending the time
period of that "little favor" I asked before." Shizuru's red eyes moved up to meet hers curiously as Sylia continued. "Your continued
discretion about Inyme's actual mental health is appreciated, certainly. I imagine a large number of people would be very forceful about her seeing
"proper professional help" if it was known how....focused...she is. It's my belief that with the release of the tension in her from this most
recent unpleasantness, she'll begin getting better. We're already seeing signs of improvement now that she doesn't have to hide who and what she
is, whether from Alice or anyone in general. But the tendency to obsess and the simple fact that she'd do anything Alice requests regardless of its
morality would certainly cause people to have some concern. It's much more immediately threatening than, say, the somewhat disconnected mental troubles of
other members of the Legendary," she added, getting a nod.

"Rhea's problems, however 'acceptable', are undergoing treatment, however. I'm a might curious why you'd seek t'keep Inyme from
similar assistance. I can testify that they do have a positive effect in the long run," Shizuru aded, even though
she knew as well as Sylia why she was bringing this up.

"Yes, but Inyme is not simply psychologically troubled. She's also a Rikti and a former Rikti spy. That would bias any number of therapists
regardless of their declarations otherwise. And Inyme is a telepath. I'd hardly want to expose her to such bias and "accepted" racism if
possible. Especially not now, when the wrong words at the wrong time could lead to a regrettable incident when we're just now getting out of the last
one."

Shizuru closed her eyes for a moment at the last comment, knowing that Sylia, unlike Inyme, didn't know how close to a target she'd hit with that
choice of words. "So what, praytell, do you wish me to do to assist? If it's reasonable, I can't see why I'd deny you."

"Just....keep an eye on her. Discretely. She trusts you because you haven't gone to others, even in the Legendary, with your knowledge of what's
going on in her head. She's admitted as much to me. Which would make you ideal as a potential authority figure she might confide in if things were to
happen. And...I think I can trust your discretion in that our definitions of a "clear and present danger" presented by Inyme's struggling to gain
her own emotional stability are more similar than some others in the Legendary might have."

Shizuru thought about that, then nodded, holding out her hand while holding her teacup in the other. "Then I believe we have an accord, Miss Sylia. I can
handle that sort of thing, don't you worry none."

Sylia smiled back softly, taking the proferred hand and shaking it firmly. "You have my thanks, Shizuru. And any assistance I can render to you in return,
off the record, should you need it."

"I'll keep that in mind."
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

[Sofaspud]

Tails of the Legendary


A Matter of Discretion


by Sofaspud and MatrixDragon




"I would've loved this weather before I got furry," Alice noted darkly to her sister Sammy as the two of them sprawled on the couch in front of a
rotating fan.

For her part, Sammy merely shrugged. She couldn't remember ever not having fur, and simply viewed the late summer heatwave as yet another annoyance to be
endured. Still, she was getting slightly annoyed at Alice's grumbling about the heat. Yes, it was hot, everyone could see -- feel? -- that, why did she
have to make such a deal about it?

Ifrit entered from the kitchen, bearing two large glasses of iced tea. The girls accepted it gratefully. Sammy noted that Ifrit, unlike the two of them, was
not only fully dressed but appeared comfortable in the sweltering confines of their apartment. Her aunt smiled at them and returned to the kitchen, where
chopping sounds indicated dinner preparations.

Alice muttered something and sank lower in her seat as the fan washed over her fur.

Strident tones, easily audible to the two catgirls and the fey with her enhanced senses, echoed down the hall from Nene's office: "What do you mean
you don't know where the maintenance man is right now? He's got a cell phone, doesn't he?" A short pause. "He's not answering?
But we need our air-conditioning fixed! Hang on a minute, this is ridiculous." Nene appeared, clad only in a t-shirt as far as Sammy could tell, which
itself appeared to be sticking to her skin, and retrieved her own cellphone from the counter. The door to the office slammed shut again and Sammy cocked an
ear, listening in on the rest of the exchange more out of boredom than actual curiousity. There was a rapid series of tones from one of the computers,
interspersed with the clicking of keys and tinny beeps from what Sammy assumed was Aunt Nene's phone.

"He's at Crazy Dave's." Another pause. "Well, send someone down there or call the place already! He's got the phone on him now, I
can see it moving around! He's just not answering and -- what? Oh. Um. Look, don't ask, okay? Just trust me, he's down there. Yeah. THANK
you." The phone slammed into its cradle and a tired sigh floated along behind. Sammy turned her attention back to the living room as Alice sipped at her
tea.

"You could shave," Sammy pointed out, trying to be helpful. "Like I do, I mean, it's not much fun but look at me, I'm hardly sweating
at all, and you're all sticky and stuff."

"If the stupid air conditioning was working it wouldn't matter," Alice replied.

"Sammy, dear, is Derrick coming over for dinner tonight?" Aunt Ifrit's voice from the kitchen interrupted any potential response Sammy might
have made to that.

"No," she called back, slouching a little as she added, "I guess his sister is in town or something, he promised to show her around and she has
tickets to Cats! so he's kinda stuck."

"Awww, is poor kitty going to be all alone tonight?" Alice teased as she rose to adjust the fan to a better position, her tail flicking lightly from
side to side. "Nobody to ... stroke your fur?"

Sammy flushed. Alice could be such a brat sometimes! "Look who's talking. At least Derrick and I aren't obvious about it, like you."

"EX-CUSE me?" Alice's ears went flat and her eyes narrowed as she whirled to face her sister, and her tail stood dangerously still. "Would
you care to explain that?"

Her own temper rising, Sammy glared back. "Hey, at least Derrick and I are quiet no that's not the word what's Aunt Nene call it? oh yeah
DISCREET, not like you two keeping me up all night long and going around grinning all day long the next day and EEP!" She dived over the back of the
couch as an arrow thunked into the cushions where she'd been sitting a split second before.

"ALICE ROMANOVA!" Aunt Ifrit stood in the doorway, her eyes blazing -- literally -- as the dishtowel in her hands began to lightly smolder.

Alice's eyes widened and she gulped, letting her bow vanish as quickly as it had appeared. "Oh-oh."

Sammy peeked over the top of the couch and stuck her tongue out. "Nyyaaaah!" Her gloating was cut off suddenly. "OW! Not the ear not the ear
NOT THE EAR leggo she started it Aunt Ifrit PLLEEEAAASE..."

Keeping one finger and thumb on Sammy's ear, Ifrit turned her attention to her daughter. "Alice, just because Sammy doesn't realise how obvious
she is, is no reason to put arrows in the furniture!"

"But I-"

"RWZ, five Rikti squads."

"... yes ma'am."

Sammy shot upright as Ifrit released her hold on the catgirl's ear. "WHAAAT?!" she said in a high-pitched incredulous wail. "We're not
obvious!"

Ifrit merely looked at her calmly. "You are to me."

"... mew..." Sammy managed, her tail standing up stiff and straight and her eyes going wide.

"That, and, replacing shredded bedsheets is a good clue," Ifrit added with a small smile.

"I was having the chasing-a-mouse dream!" Sammy countered.

"While screaming Derrick's name and moaning?" Alice inquired, arching an eyebrow.

"I wasn't screaming..." Sammy replied petulantly.

"No, you were yowling." Alice paused a beat, then smirked. "I'd have figured that playing in Derrick's pants would rate higher then
'chasing the mouse'..."

"H-hey!"

"Alice..." Ifrit began in a warning tone.

"Nya!" Alice turned and fled to carry out her mum-ordered punishment.

"Okay, that's it!" Nene declared, striding into the room. She was wearing a pair of coveralls over the t-shirt from previously and was fastening
a toolbelt around her hips as she walked. "I'll fix it myself!" she said, and paused as she took in the tableau.

"... what did I miss?"

Ifrit chuckled and stroked Sammy's hair lightly. "Nothing, hon. Be back in time for dinner."

Nene snapped a mock-salute as she headed out the door. "No problem! It's an air conditioner, the maintenance guy keeps it running and he's dumb
as a sack of bricks. How hard can it be?"

---

"Aunt Nene, I don't keep you up at night, do I?"

"... okay, what brought this on?"

---

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

[Sweno]

*snerk*

so 'chasing the mouse' is what the catgirls call it now, is it?

(does that mean the catboys call it 'hunting for fish'?)

congrats to both spud and MD, this brightened my day.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy

[dark seraph]

Seraph slowly awoke to a face that's looked like it lost a battle with a lawnmower, it took a few seconds
for him to relies he was staring into the face of his eldest daughter, Lazuren. "Laz… what the hell?" he mumbled as he sat up.

Laz grinned as the bedroom door opened and Gir, Seraph other daughter, came in carrying a large tray plied high with fried food. Gir put the tray down and
hugged him. "Happy Fathers day daddy!" she squealed.

Seraph blinked dumbly for a few seconds before what Gir had said sunk in. father's day. Well, he was a
father now. So it was only natural that his girls would want to celebrate it. Gir gave him a box wrapped in plain brown paper with piggies painted on it?
"This is from me." She exclaimed happily.

Opening it, Seraph pulled out a recipe cube and read the attached label. He blinked dumbly as he reread the
label to see if it was real. It was, Gir had some how got her hands on a portion of the Apocalypse set. Putting it down Seraph turned to Gir and asked.
"How did you get this?"

Gir grinned. "Weeeell, I was in Recluses victory with the robot longbow lent me and we cracked open a
bunker and found it… do you like it, I wanted something really special cuz this is your first fathers day?" she asked.

Seraph smiled. "Of course I like it, thanks Gir." He was then surprise as Laz placed a rather large
box on the bed. Laz cleared her throat before talking. "Mines not as fancy as Gir's…. But I hope you like it."

Opening the second box, seraph started laughing and he empted it onto the bed, 3 jars of vegemite, a 6 pack of
Victorian bitters beer, a bag of Carmelo koalas and whole bunch of other iconic Aussi food stuff. "Laz... how did you?" Seraph looked at her with a
mildly bemused look on his face.

"Well, every now and again you mention how you miss some of the food you get back home, so I did some research and got everything that I could… um… I know
it's not as good as what Gir got you." Laz trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed.

Smiling, Seraph pulled both his daughters into a hug, a bit difficult on Gir's behalf considering she nearly weighed three times his own body weight.
"Girls… you didn't have to do this… but thank you anyway." He said.

***

a little something thats my muse rattled off to me, enjoy

[Sofaspud]

"Okay, are you ready?"

Terrence sighed. "Yes, Rhea."

"Taa-daaa!" His blindfold vanished, to reveal...

... the TV? Terrence glanced at it quizzically, then up at Rhea. "It's a TV," he observed.

Rhea frowned and cleared her throat. Lisa chuckled. "Whoops," the redhead said, "I hit the wrong button." She aimed the remote and
pressed Play.

The screen lit up, showing a video that was quite obviously the work of an amateur holding an expensive camera. "This is just the promo shoot," Rhea
explained. "We'd need to do some heavy editing before it could go on the air."

"Uh-huh," Terr grunted, a sinking feeling forming in his stomach. Why was he on the screen?

He had to admit, though, he looked pretty good. Especially fighting those Warriors.

"-- tired of getting beat up?" a man was saying in a voiceover. The screen cut to a close up of a black-eyed and bruised Warrior staring morosely at
the camera. "Are you tired of not being tough enough?" Another shot, this one of the same Warrior -- which, Terr suspected, was just a guy in
makeup, he didn't carry himself like a true Warrior -- looking dejected as two women sniffed and turned their backs on him. The scene changed back to Terr
as he football-spiked a blade-wielding Warrior into the surf. "Then NO MORE!"

The camera zoomed in on Terrence as he raised his eyes to stare into the sunset, his lips set in a determined scowl. There was a moment of silence.

"Terrence Knight Body Spray," the announcer whispered, as the scene faded to the Warrior applying a mist to himself from an angry-looking can in the
middle of a deserted intersection -- possibly Boomtown. The Warrior looked startled, then was buried under a mob of axe-wielding enemies and screaming,
fawning fangirls. He fell to beating the living daylights out of the former and sneaking kisses from the latter as the camera pulled back to show hundreds
more streaming in from all sides.

"IT'S ALL THE RAAAAAAGE!" the announcer screamed. The commerical ended with a screen full of letters in a tiny font and a high-pitched squeal
that might, if one possessed super-hearing, have been a disclaimer.

The screen went to static, and Lisa clicked Stop.

"Well?" Rhea beamed.

"What the hell, Rhea?" Terr barked, still staring at the screen. "No!"

"Awwww...." Rhea pouted.

Lisa cleared her throat. "What exactly is that ... stuff?"

Rhea produced a can and offered it. "I think it's just Axe with a different label," she said, shrugging. "It smells good, anyway. It
doesn't smell like Terr or anything."

Terrence raised an eyebrow. Rhea blinked, then covered her mouth. Lisa choked back a laugh.

"Oh, Terr, I didn't mean to -- I mean -- um... sorry?"

Terr rose to his feet. "I'm going to go take a shower," he rumbled. As he entered the hallway, he called back over his shoulder, "And NO!
I said no to the... toys, and I'm saying no to this!"

"I think you owe him an apology, Rhea," Lisa said as Terr stomped down the hall. As he entered the bathroom, he heard Rhea sigh.

"Yeah... you remember where I left the catgirl suit?"

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

[Terrenceknight]

....Spud..I don't know what to say about this..now i'm trying really hard to mentaly image this..and its bringing me to tears in amusement, Love
Rhea's unintentional insult and naturaly he'd never hold something like -that- against her for more than like..a minute or two since y'know it
-wasn't- on purpose Sides..who can stay upset with Rhea..and Mr.Whiskers? their just too adorable hehe.

I swear Rhea comes up with all the most 'Entertaining' Ideas, its always a laugh or...in Terr's case likely a blush a minute.

Loved the ficlet Spud.

Terr

[dark seraph]

*sparys coffee at the computer screen* damn it spud, why do you have yo make theis so piss fun?

[Matrix Dragon]

Nene gave Ifrit an odd look. "That was the whole date?" she asked, in a voice that strongly suggested disbelief. "Paintball, then comparing
notes?" The fey nodded, a soft smile on her face. "But... You were flirting madly with her on the task force. You kissed her," she pointed out.

"Why yes, I did, didn't I?" Ifrit agreed with a fond smile at the memory. "Tall, strong, rather aggressive..."

"And you two weren't in the 'casual flirting' Sachie and I usually roll with," Nene protested. "You were going well beyond that and
into the 'making out' phase. There was kissing, there was movement of hands and squeezing of extremities," she explained, making interesting
gestures with her hands. Her smile widening, Ifrit leaned back on the couch, watching her lover pace across the living room. "There was no restraint
involved!"

The fey tilted her head to the side. "Actually, there was." Nene looked over. "Not tackling you to the ground at the center of Cimorea,"
she pointed out, her smile turning somewhat eager as she looked Nene over, eyes gleaming. The redhead snorted and rolled her eyes. "What? It's true.
It would be the perfect place for such things."

"When you're in a mood, you're a weird one," Nene sighed. "Here I am, almost convinced you're going to shift our relationship into a
three-way, and you end up just hanging out with a friend, learning a few tricks, and making a new costume. It's almost like... you were... going that way
from the beginning..." she whispered, a look of dawning realization appearing on her face as she stopped pacing and turned back to find that Ifrits smile
had become much more playful. "You, you..."

"The term you're looking for is 'set you up,'" Ifrit replied with a giggle. Nene's jaw dropped. "Sammys reactions were so very
helpful. You were both convinced..." There was a brief squeak from the hallway as both Neko and Alice clamped their hands over Sammys mouth, and Ifrit
giggled again. "The stammering and the blushing and the horrified expressions, and your shock and disbelief and confusion..." the giggle turned into
a full, sultry laugh, before she rolled to the side to avoid Nenes tackle. "Why, there was almost steam coming out of your hardsuit!" she laughed,
standing up and backing away, ducking under the thrown seat cushion.

Nene stood up, towering over her lover (With the help of the couch as a platform, of course), and pointed at the fey dramatically. "For the crime of
playing sneaky and sexy, I demand vengeance!" she declared, even as she was unable to keep the smile off her own face. "Prepare yourself Ifrit
Barnes, for justice comes for you!"

Giggling, Ifrit backed towards the balcony. "You have to catch me first," she warned. "Don't worry, I won't fly. It has to be somewhat
fair, after all... but I should note something first."

Nene gave her a cautious look. "And that would be?" she asked.

"Besides being a magnificent kisser, Sachie also taught me a few tricks," the fey replied, before leaping off the balcony, flipping in midair, and
falling towards the street below, leaping off several other balconies along the way. When she reached the street, she landed on a fence and raced along it in
the half-crouch that those in the hero business had nicknamed the 'ninja run'. Laughing to herself as she leapt over a road and landed on another
fence, she glanced behind her and blinked at the sight of Nene running along the fence, barely twenty feet behind her.

"What, you think I wasn't able to talk her into showing off a little?" Nene called out. Ifrit laughed again, delighted, before she jumped, used a
surprised Hellion as a springboard, and launched herself back up to the rooftops. Nene was right behind her, using a second Hellion the same way, promising
glorious vengeance.

Back on the balcony of the Barnes household, three catgirls watched them vanish into the evening, all shaking their heads in amusement. "Ah, young
love," Neko chuckled.

"And I thought Sammy and I were meant to be the immature ones."

"Yeah, I thought that too hey!"

[Sofaspud]

Sammy: Hey wait you mean you two really weren't but then what about the and the other time and the TONGUE and I'm so CONFUSED! *wail*

Kudos, MD. Very nice .

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

[dark seraph]

Sightless

---

Flames flickered through the Lab as she slammed the man against the wall. The light illuminating the blade at his throat. "How dare you do
this to me!" he spat at her. "I am your master! You must obey me!"

She slowly drew a second blade and raised it above here head. "I am free of you now." She said, her voice barley audible. She brought the blade
down, piercing between his ribs and pining him to the wall. "And you are nothing."

He screamed at her, flailing weakly against her armor. "You'll never get away with this, they'll hunt you down, they'll drag you back and
you will wish you stayed with me!" His blows weakened as his blood flowed freely, pooling at his feet.

She stood and waited, watching as the life left his body. When she was sure he was dead, she reached out and pulled her blade free, his body collapsing into
the pool of blood.

She turned and walked away, her old life burring to the ground behind her.

***

one week latter

"Excuse me ma'am, but the library will be closing soon."

She looked up from her book at the young librarian and closed the book she had been reading. "Oh, I'm sorry, I lost track of the time." She
replied.

Getting up she placed the book back on the shelf and made her way to the exit. The young librarian waving good bye as she left. She had come to enjoy
visiting the library, it made a good refuge during the day, that and the shear number of books was slightly mind boggling.

As she made her way across town to the warehouse she was holding up in, she started going over her plans for the night. Hopefully the power main she hooked
her armor into had succeeded in charging its power cell, her escape had practically drained it dry.

Reaching the warehouse, she looked around to make sure no one was watching, then clambered in the window, slightly cursing the fact that while her former
master had given her a very athletic body, he had also seen fit to give her ridiculously long hair, it always seamed to get in her way, almost as if it had a
life of it's own.

Finally making through the window, she dropped down to the floor and paused, in the middle of jumble of mess she called her bedroom, was a plain cardboard
box.

Slowly she circled it. it hadn't been there when she had left that morning. Meaning some one knew where she was. Carefully, almost expecting it to
explode, she opened it.

Nestled inside were 3 power cells and a slip of paper, picking up the paper she saw a noted jotted on it.

"A gift from some like minded friends."

Looking around she tried to figure out who could have done this? It was unlikely it was Crey, they would have put a bomb there, or something equally nasty.
She removed one of the cells from the box and gave it a once over.

It had a full charge and looked a lot more advance than the near dead one in her suit, meaning that the mysterious "friends" probably ran
something similar to her. It slowly dawned on her that the only other group that would probably have access to something like this was the Sabers of Paragon…
so was this a invitation?

She went over to her suit and unhooked it from the power junction, then swapped out the cells, smiling as the suit made a slight hum, after a moment she
striped down and put on the armor, it would be good to see what it could do with a full charge.

Before leaving she flipped over the note and quickly wrote a reply in case her benefactor dropped by again.

"Thank you for the gift, love Caecus Sabre."

----

a little something for my newest saber. name and background arn't quite worked out, but i'm getting there.

[OpMegs]

Nene found that of all the various wacky hijinx she'd been involved in since coming to Paragon, saving the Baby New Year from the Redcaps so that time
would flow past winter had to be the most bizarre. Yet here she was with Derek's sister, preparing to beat up sentient snow monsters.

It's almost enough to make a girl wonder about her general sanity, Nene said, before blinking as a large woman
stepped out of the door she was about to go into and headed right for her.

"Well, hello," the tall redhead smiled. "What crimes I'd commit to be arrested by you."

Nene absently called up facial recognition in her HUD which ID'd the woman as "Vindictive Hedonist" and gave a grocery list of crimes committed
that she skimmed before shaking her head, practically feeling the anime stereotype sweatdrop on the back of her head.

"Sorry, I've got a fiancee' that breathes fire and a girlfriend-in-waiting that kills people in their sleep. I'm just full up."

"I'm not!" Trixie grinned as she came up behind them. "If you like, I've even got handcuffs!"

Nene blinked, before sighing and dragging the catgirl into the door. "Festively themed threats to the time-space continuum first, nookie second,
kitty..."

"Awwww..."

***

(Inspired by actual events with some creative license)
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

[Sweno]

Maybe it's the beer talking, but I laughed.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy

[OpMegs]

The shift end whistle blew, as Allison set down the I-beam she'd been hauling across the yard out of the way of the rush of workers heading for the punch
clock. Newbies, most of them, exhausted and looking to collapse into their beds before the shift tomorrow. She'd never been in that category due to outside
factors, but Allison knew the type by long observation. The rest of her more regular crew punched out and headed for a little sidewalk cafe' the crew
tended to frequent when off shift.

"Ah'm tellin' ya, we should jus' blow 'em all up!" Carl said, the dark skinned man sipping at his flask as they sat down. "Wee
little Clockwork ain't take more than a swing or two of a pipe t'break. A couple grenades in t' right places an' we'd be through and
through wit'em!"

"Yes, and then they'd come back for more, having pegged us as hostile," Allison pointed out, sitting down herself. "There's more of
those things than there are us, and even if we can handle ourselves, you don't want to chase off the newbies, do you?"

"Achk, a few less newbies might be an improvement," he observed dourly, and Allison chuckled as he glanced over at Joey.

"I'm with Carl, Allie," the youngster was saying. "I mean, down in the Row, you don't just take this shit. They run all over you less
you tell 'em to step off. S'all about respectin' the boundaries, see? Them Clocks don't, so we gotta mess with their shit, make sure they get
it." Joey adjusted his hat with a nod as he sat his pack down under the chair, leaning back.

"Son, your enthusiasm's writing checks the foreman doesn't want to cash," Al growled, the older ironworker giving him a look from under his
slightly oversized hardhat. "It's about strateegerie. Them Clocks outnumber us 5000 to 10, and if they ever decide they want to make a big mess, we
can't stop them." He scratched at his thinning gray hair, barely visible between balding and the former marine buzzcut. "Nah, Allie's right.
It's best not to piss them off."

"I am not seeing why you all find them so troubling. They are small, puny thingks," Ivan noted through his thick accent, the massive Slavic man
standing as they waited for a waiter to stop by. "We can crush zem if neccessary," he said, squeezing two large, meaty hands together. "If they
do not bother us like Allie says, then they are no trouble."

"The typical debate, mes amis?" a familar voice asked as Allison looked over with a chuckle.

"Same as always, Remy. Blow them up, beat them up, leave them alone, sit on them....Clockwork are a pain in the ass," she grinned.

Remy flashed her a dazzling smile as he flipped open his notebook, also handing Ivan a larger chair that was more appropriate to his unusual dimensions. Like
most of the men present, he was bald, but unlike the others besides Ivan, his was a fashion choice. The thin waiter was quite the charmer, really, between his
mild accent, good looks, and occasional peppering of French into his speech, but even if Allie had been in the market, she was fairly certain he was like that
with all the pretty girls, and she liked their current arrangement.

"So, what will it be today, messiurs and mademoiselle?"

"Ah'm still waiting fer Steve t'show up. Ah owe'im after he won our wager," Carl grunted.

"Just a medium steak and some potatoes, Remy," Al said. "Though make sure it's actually medium this time. Your chef appears to think you
mean well done when you take my order. I half expect to see it come out of there on fire."

Remy shook his head. "I shall make sure she understands your order. And you?"

"Steak, some steak fries and a soda, Remy," Joey noted. "And make it rare. I wanna see it bleedin', yeah?"

"I shall have a club sandvich," Ivan rumbled. "Extra large."

"As always, mon ami," Remy chuckled, before turning to Allison.

"Just the usual, Remy. Same as Ivan, just times two," she smiled back

"My word, I do not see where you put all of it, ma chere," Remy said, shaking his head with wonder as he flipped the pad closed. "I
shall inform the cook and be right out with your drinks."

Allison nodded at him, before sitting back, the table going back to the usual debate before a tall gentleman in a bush hat and sunglasses walked towards them,
talking on his cell phone as his companion, still wearing one of their company hard hats, just shook his head at him.

"I'm telling you, dad, I can't. Well, because I've got work!....no, it's not some kind of euphimism. I work in a construction yard.
I've told you this. We have a schedule we have to keep," Steve was saying into the phone, as most of the crew chuckled or rolled their eyes at the
familiar exchange. "Look, I was there for Christmas. New Years is just turning a number over on the bloody calendar. Why do I need to be there?" He
sighed, before tilting the hat back. "I'll see if I can manage it, dad. If I can. No promises, though. Give mum my love," he said, before hanging
up. "Bloody holidays..."

"I'm telling ya, you could..." Stan began with his usual drawl.

"Just shoot him," the rest of the table completed in sync, leading to Stan looking at them for a moment before chuckling, which spread to Steve
before long as the other two sat down. Allison, for her part, leaned back. Another day, another dollar, but what more could she ask for?
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

[Logan Darklighter]

HA!! I see what you did there. ^_^

[Valles]

"BLOW IT UP! BLOW IT ALL UP!"
===========

===============================================
"V, did you do something foolish?"
"Yes, and it was glorious."

[Sofaspud]

(Hopefully Atl will get a kick out of this, seeing as how he helped save the day when I... goofed.)

---

Lora'Lai paused as she left her office in the Legendary base. The sound of hammerblows was echoing faintly down the corridor. She frowned -- she
wasn't aware of any renovation being planned for today -- and followed the noise.

She was startled when she came across Katy doing her level best to beat the stuffing out of one of the vending machines scattered throughout the base.

"Katy?" Lora'Lai asked, puzzled. The teenager spun.

"Oh! Uh. Hi?" Katy scratched uneasily at the back of her head. "This isn't what it looks like."

Lora raised an eyebrow. "It isn't?"

"Well, okay, it probably is," Katy admitted. "I can't get into my locker, I can't get into secured areas, the only teleporter I can use
is the lobby -- and I'm scared to try it in case I can't get back in -- and now the stupid Pepsi machine won't cough up my caffeine! Arrrgh!"

Lora glanced at the machine in question. The readout cheerily blinked "ACCESS DENIED". Katy whapped it again, fairly hard -- her lead-weighted
gloves adding the percussive thud Lora had heard from halfway across the base.

"Here," Lora said, making a command decision. She punched the button for a Mountain Dew and after a short pause, the readout flashed green and the
slot let drop a chilled can.

"This sucks," Katy commented, accepting the can and nodding her thanks. "Suddenly, everything in the base hates me. I don't get it!
I've even been staying away from the mainframe since -- well, you know."

Lora patted her comfortingly. "Come with me. Let's see if we can't figure this out."

A few minutes later Lora sat back from her workstation and eyed Katy with a raised eyebrow. "It says here you don't exist," she noted, deadpan.

Katy coughed and nearly spewed Dew across Lora's desk. "WHAT?!"

"No record of Katy Kaboom exists in our systems." Lora's lips twitched. "Furthermore, the FBSA tells me nobody has registered that hero
name -- but it's currently available, if I'd like to submit a request."

"That's not funny!"

Lora relented. "Calm down, Katy. We'll get it fixed. Some sort of computer glitch, no doubt --"

"I heard that," said the base AI, until now silent.

"-- which obviously has nothing at all to do with our systems," Lora finished smoothly.

"I... thanks." Katy looked down and clenched her fist. "I don't understand how it could have happened, but... thanks."

"Not a problem," Lora replied. "Let's head down to the FBSA office, I think we can catch the after-hours clerk and get your ID restored
tonight." As they left the base and appeared in Atlas Park, Lora glanced at her fellow Legendary member and smiled just a little. "And, Katy?"

"Yes?"

"Might I suggest you use your private workshop instead of the base for the next little while? I suspect you make our AI... nervous." She indicated
the steps leading up to City Hall.

"Hmph." Katy scowled. "If I find out that collection of chips had anything to do with this, I'll rewire it into a toaster."

"Now, now..."

"A cheap toaster. That only has one setting: burnt."

"Maybe I shouldn't have said anything..."

"A toaster that will utterly fail at making toast and that nobody will want, let alone use. It'll go to the dump a lonely lump of steel and
electronics, forever lost and abandoned by those it would prefer to serve."

Lora raised an eyebrow. "Now, you're beginning to worry me," she admitted.

---

(I accidentally server-transferred Katy the other night and had a few moments of utter panic. This is the result.

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

[dark seraph]

*reads after dealing with stupid govement officals* bwaa haa ha ha, thats made my day spud

[Sofaspud]

Rhea burst in to Terrence Knight's rec room, a huge, beaming smile on her face.  In one hand she held a plain brown paper bag, of the sort Terrence had seen all too often before.
"Terr!  Guess wha--"
"No," Terrence interjected, raising a hand.  "I don't know what it is, but, no."
Rhea pouted.  "You haven't even given me a chance this time."
"I'm safer that way."
Rhea pouted some more.  Terr glared.  The pouting changed to a quivering lip and big, sad eyes.  Terr threw his hands up in surrender.
"Okay, okay!  I give!"  Grumbling, he threw himself down on the couch as Rhea's sad face vanished as quickly as it had appeared.  She jumped over the back of the couch to land next to him, curling her long legs under her and plopping the bag on his lap.  He eyed it with much the same expression as he would give a ticking time bomb.
"Open it, silly," Rhea chided, laughing and nudging him with her shoulder.
Terr used one finger to gently open the bag, peering down inside.  His eyebrows rose and he fished out... a pair of boxer shorts?  He turned and focused the raised eyebrows on Rhea.
"Well, you haven't changed your mind about the toys -- you're still... okay, don't glare at me like that."  Rhea giggled.  "So, this is the next best thing."  She reached out and plucked the black fabric from Terr's grasp.  "It's silk, of course, but there's an impervium microweave for added strength and the manager down at Second Skin says they can include a whole bunch of optional extras, just like they do for the high-end super-suits -- like my tights.  See here?"  She pointed at a discreet yellow-and-black trefoil on the label, which Terr noted had a circle-slash through it.  "I had them make this one special.  Watch!"
She draped the boxers over her hand, bit her lip, and flared with bright green energy.  The only part of her not glowing, in fact, was the hand wearing the boxers.  Terrence was very good at judging power output based solely on visual cues at this point, and he estimated Rhea was using about half-strength.  He nodded approvingly.  "That's pretty good."
Rhea grinned and wiggled her fingers, allowing one of them to slip through the front flap of the boxers.  Terr laughed as the glowing digit appeared.
"Pretty cool, huh?"  Rhea smiled.  She wiggled her protruding finger some more and batted her eyelashes at Terr suggestively.
"Hey, Rhea?"
"Hmm?"
"My place isn't hardened like Lisa's is."
Rhea's eyes widened and the glow cut off like a switch had been thrown.  "Oops."
"Good thing all my anime is on DVD," he chuckled.
"So... what do you think?"  Rhea eyed him anxiously.
Terr sat back, his brow creased.  He'd been meaning to ask this for a long time, but he was always getting... distracted.  "Rhea... why do you want me to put my name on this stuff so badly?  Do you need the money or something?"
Rhea rolled her eyes.  "Are you kidding?  The last time I checked my accounts I got scared and told the accountant to start finding ways to give most of my income away.  The cartoon and the ShoulderPets and Mr. Whiskers' book signings and...  the last thing I need is more money, Terr."
"Well, then... why?"
Rhea sighed and sat back.  Terr -- ever conscious of the important details -- noted with some disappointment that she was no longer as... perky... as she'd been a moment before.  He wondered briefly if Rhea realized how much of her mood showed on her... features.  Especially in those tights.
He twitched and reminded himself that this was serious and tried to pay attention.
"It's fun," Rhea said at last.  She didn't turn her head to look at him, focusing instead on the great stone fireplace that would have dominated the room if the entertainment center -- flat-screen, stereo, unidentifiable blue-glowing electronics -- wasn't already filling that role.  "It's a lot of fun.  It gives me something to do besides tackling Lisa and you, and... and when I think about how lucky I am, I want to share that.  I'm not making much sense, I know."  She turned and laid a hand on Terr's knee.  "You're a great guy, Terr... if you really want me to stop, I will."
Terr scratched the back of his head nervously.  "Well... you don't have to stop... I'm just not the public type, y'know?"
Rhea's grin returned.  "That's what I'm trying to fix, silly!  She leaned forward and traced delicate fingers up his chest.  "If you've got it, flaunt it, right?"
"R-Rhea!"
She giggled and stood, stretching until her back popped and taking a few steps towards the fireplace before turning.  "So, can I tell them we're good to go on this one?"
Terrence glowered, but his heart wasn't in it.  Boxers and briefs -- men's clothing -- wasn't as bad as... some of the things Rhea had suggested before.  "Oh, all right," he grumbled.  "I suppose."
"Great!"  Rhea bounced over and bent down to give him a quick hug.  "I'll tell them right now.  They should be able to get a line on the shelves in two weeks.  I'll get Lisa to negotiate your cut, unless you want to?  I'm sure they'd love to meet you personally..."
Terr blushed and waved his hands.  "No!  No, uh, that's okay, Lisa can do it...."
Rhea laughed again and headed for the door.  "Oh, by the way, Terr," her voice rang back as she passed through the portal.  "Come up with some places you want to use as the backdrop for your photo shoot, would you?  It's best if you're comfortable for those.  Trust me on that.  Eden, maybe?  There's some nice waterfalls there..."
The door clicked shut.
Terr whimpered.  "P-photo s-sh-shoot?"

---

(inspired by a bit of semi-RP in channel last night... Rhea's slowly wearing him down. )

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

[dark seraph]

Terr whimpered.  "P-photo s-sh-shoot?"

hee hee hee, i can see several people lineing up to get glossies of those

[dark seraph]

writen after a fun ITF a few days or so ago.

***

Slowly, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Atrum Angeli woke to the pounding sensation of a headache. As he sat up everything blurred for a bit as he blindly groped around for his glasses. As he put them on, he tired to remember what had happen the previous night.

It had started when he agreed to help some other heroes in Cimoria, at first it seamed a good idea with the added bonus of free time travel. Then he had found out that they would be working with villains, it hadn’t quite been what he had expected.

There was that ninja chick that almost looked like she had been built in a ship yard or something and had a laugh that crack glass, and then there was bitter little Fortuna, seer Gallowglass, who seamed to spend most of her time taunting the ninja or bickering with him.

He was about to climb out of the bed when he heard a sigh, slowly he turned and saw said bitter little Fortuna next to him, naked and asleep. He blinked as more of last nights evens slowly returned to him.

After the missions was over, he had taken her up on her offer of a night out, mainly cuz he figured it she was offering so that if the ninja did try to slug her one, she would have a half decent meat shield. He was quite surprised when she then practically dragged/ordered him to the D and found a quite corner to get drunk in.

Then… the night became a bit of a blur, there was an argument over who made better beer, who was better at cricket… and then… something, judging by how his head felt, possibly something or some one had hit him… then?

Well, he was in a bedroom he didn’t recognise with a naked agent of Arachnos next to him. After a moments pause, he took his glasses off and laid back down. “I’ve had worst days.” He muttered to himself.

[OpMegs]

Nena was feeling rather chipper after that last mission. The last few had been a freelance thing with Lorenz Ansaldo after Kalinda had told her she had to go beat up a hero to get a cape or something. Some crazy initiation thing she really didn't care too much about. But it'd let her back into Paragon, and by Nena's standards, that was good enough on its own. The fact that her partner had been a familiar red head from the week before had also made the situation even more enjoyable from the moment she'd sensed her unique brain patterns.
Nena wasn't sure what it was about "sparklies" that made her feel the way they did. Battery Acid had been her first, but while the "tingle" her brain gave Nena suggested things that weren't exactly fit for polite consumption, the electrically charged bruiser was on the List of people that Nena was advised not to casually toy with. Something about some sort of indication she's far more intelligent than her exterior indicates, blah-blah-blah-blah. Nena didn't really care about the reasons why; she just knew that Madigan would get angry at her if she broke the rules, and that wasn't worth much of anything. At least, not when there was a high risk of her getting caught.
Lithium was different. While her power levels were on a whole other level from Battery Acid's, the Infamous member was under the "who cares" category of the list, which meant as long as nothing broke operational security on the Scimitars themselves and showed their connections to Crey, Nena could do what she wanted. Their first meeting was under combat circumstances as most things were, taking down some viking lady while robbing a bank in Paragon, but Nena hadn't really been paying attention. Surfing the brainwaves of so many villains, heroes, and cops all at once made the details hard to sort out without a pressing need to, and since no one'd asked Nena for a report yet, she hadn't really bothered to straighten out her memory of the events beyond what'd stuck out to her, which was Lithium. The containment suit was interesting, and Infamous files indicated it was partially constructed by Battery Acid herself, as the older woman seemed to have taken Lithium on as a partner or protoge' or something. The general warning of what a catastrophic breach to the containment suit could do dissuaded Nena from pursuing things immediately until she had a better plan than "go find a PPD SWAT van somewhere and tell its occupants to be elsewhere."
Nena hadn't run into Lithium again until after That Girl's wedding and the minor fiasco that the new girl had caused out of Nena's stress relief. And before that meeting, Madigan had had a short discussion with the girl about possibly bringing in some long-term help. Which Nena had duly translated as "something other than a weekend toy for you to play with". Probably because of that one time. Of the potential "hires" Madigan'd suggested, Lithium seemed ideal, if only because her personality already gelled pretty well with the rest of the Scimitars, and the fact that Nena could pretty much just keep her in her room most of the time didn't hurt. Sure, there was the whole containment thing, but Madigan or Galatea typically took care of those details. It'd just be up to Nena to work on making sure Lithium wanted to stay over for as long as they needed.
Which was why she'd called Lithium in for this job to sound her out. Suffice it to say, she was pleased that it'd worked out so well. They'd just blown through a Legacy Chain base and Nena was feeling pretty good that the woman was catching her drift. The comments she'd made about feeling a little stifled in her suit had been just what the doctor ordered, and the fact that she enjoyed combat as much as Nena did (albeit for different reasons) meant that by the end of the night, they were both a little sweaty, a bit warm under the collar, and running on more than a little adrenaline.
"That was fun," she grinned as they came out of the warehouse, reaching down to type in the recall command for her armor as Lithium glanced over at where the Scrapyarders were off following the ghost of their dead leader again.
"Yep. You sure know how to show a girl a good time, kid," she said, before blinking as she turned around to see Nena in her civilian clothes instead of the full body armor she'd been wearing a second ago.
Instead, the girl was wearing boots that went all the way up to mid-thigh along with her legs, a skirt that did just what its namesake implied with decency standards, a tight Chinese cut top that covered everything but left no curve to the imagination, and a mischievous expression on her golden-eyed face. She giggled, leaning in closer. "We should do it again some time," she purred, as a few blocks down the street, a professional escort tripped over her own feet as Nena "borrowed" the skills and body language she needed.
Lithium blushed slightly at the tone and her first good look at the girl she'd been talking with, before catching herself. "Sure," she said, before her traitorous mouth used a phrase that hadn't occurred to her until about five seconds ago. "It's a date."
"Great!" Nena nearly squeed, bending up to kiss the other woman. Just a brief peck, notably, but the "tingly feeling" she'd been feeling all night exploded for a brief moment as it felt like she'd made contact with a live wire. A normal human might've described the sensation as painful, but for Nena, it just made it harder to break the contact for the split second it lasted. She ignored the startled sound from Lithium before leaning back down, trying not to sway a little. Oh, baby, if that's what a kiss is like with her containment suit on... the Scimitar thought before draping her arms around the taller woman's shoulders, leaning up against her and giving Lithium rather extensive empirical evidence that girl's physique was that of a grown woman even if her personality was a touch childish. "So...call me?" she said, hands running along Lithium's back, searching for a pocket to put her business card in, or in absence of that, suitably entertaining resting points.
"...sure, kid," Lithium said as coherent thought came back, catching Nena's hand with one of her own and taking the card from her while she pulled one of her own out and slipped it into the girl's collar, getting a blush from the redhead that made her smile a touch wider. "I'll do that." Slipping out of her embrace, she winked at her as she turned to go. "Gotta jet," she grinned, before hopping off.
Nena licked her lips as she watched her go. "See you then," she smiled, golden circuitry patterns faintly glowing in her eyes.
***
"Eeeeeeheeheeheeheeeeeee!" Nene said, spinning about her room with a stuffed lion in both hands. "Mission accomplished!"
"What the hell, Nena?" Robin said, glancing across the living room at the spinning redhead.
"I have a daaaaate," she sing-songed, getting a skeptical look from the brunette as Fate looked up from her book.
"How many of their brain cells are still intact?" she asked quietly.
Nena snorted, coming to a stop. "All of them. Honestly, I don't do that to every date."
"Just most of them," Jen smirked as she walked by in an oversized shirt. "Also, who finished off the last of the caffeine?"
"Not it," most of the others chorused as Robin looked up at the younger Scimitar. "So who's the 'lucky' guy or girl?" she asked.
"Lithium Cell," Nena said. "We went out, beat up a bunch of people, killed a couple, and then when I asked if we could do it again, she said it was a date and gave me her phone number," the redhead grinned.
"And how much of that was her choice?"
"I only nudged her a couple times....most of it," Nena snorted. "You're just jealous because you haven't gotten any since that one guy that was looking to take you to the back room back at the bar brawl."
***
Linda ran a hand through her hair as she looked at the business card sitting on her desk. Why had she said things like that? She wasn't into girls...was she? She'd thought she wasn't, but she'd been checking the Scimitar out even in power armor, and that was hardly the most flattering of occupational wear, as she could attest to. And some of the Longbow had caught her eye...male and female....but hadn't she been complaining about....was it melons? Was that about people assuming you were into girls, or just big breasts?
Linda frowned, disconnecting the portable storage coils from her containment suit and plugging the suit's connections to her apartment's main grid in as she laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She'd almost been certain that she'd been joking with the girl...Nena...about people assuming any woman in Paragon was automatically bi, but she couldn't...couldn't quit remember clearly anymore. Between all the gunfire and the violence, keeping track of those sorts of details was getting hard. And now she was on a date with the girl who she had to admit was attract- Oh, don't kid yourself, Linda. She's a fucking knockout, and your libido knows it.
Yes, but my libido's been stuck in a tin can for months now.
Either way, is it really that big of a jump? She seems like a nice kid...
Good point... Linda nodded, before sighing as this failed to completely reassure her. She'd get some sleep...that'd probably help straighten out any doubts. She was probably just tired...
The constant dreams she'd had of life outside of the suit that night, however, were occupied more by a little golden eyed redhead than they had been in past weeks....one whose voice made all the concerns go away...
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

[Niteflier]

People always ask questions.

Things like,

"Why are YOU here?"

"What are you going to do?"

"How can we fix this?"

"You know what yer doin' Chomper?"

I always smile at that last. Yes, I nod, I know what I'm doing.

I know that "For the Good of Praetoria" really means "For the benefit of Cole and his cronies". I know that all the little obstacles in the City were put there by the Preators to find those who realize what Power really means. Those who fail? Well, where do you think the Ghouls and the Resistance came from? People who were used up, then discarded. Calvin Scott likes to think that he'll get his precious Aurora back someday. I don't think he realizes that, even if he succeeds at getting Tilman out of her body, his wife's mind is long, long gone.

He doesn't realized that Power is the only thing that can get you ahead in this world. And Power is what I strive for. Give nothing, take everything, only bow to those who posess more power than you. And then, when they least expect it, prove your power over them, as well.

Of course, those questions from before? Knowledge is Power. Why should I give any up?

I'll give you my answer with a bullet between your eyes, and a smirk on my face. Otherwise, I'll remain Silent.

-----

So. Yeah. I blame (not really) DS for this. Last night while we were running, he kept trying to figure out stories. That must have gotten stuck in my brain somehow, and produced this. Not really Legendary, but, eh.