[OOC][PLOT] Planning for Arc 1 - Arrivals

[Black Aeronaut]

Addendum: Rob, I can easily see the following happening...

"Incoming Portal!"

"It's fine, we were expecting this. Ben said he had a few things we might want. He hasn't been wrong about that so far. Good Neighbors indeed."

Ben stepped through, but not before he pushed a large flat-bed dolly stacked high with ominous looking long, flat boxes.

"Benjamin. Are those what I think they are?"

"Weapons," said Ben tersely. "And before you say anything, I checked. It's perfectly legal when you build your own guns from parts and scraps rather than modify an already constructed firearm. Ain't that a nifty loophole?"

"Right. What've you got?"

"You remember Garrick Grimm and how Washu-chan lets him have a go at her lab to see what he builds just for the helluvit?"

"You don't mean you got Raiden's Fucking Toothpick in there!?"

"What's Raiden's Toothpick?"

"Complete and total overkill by your reckoning. This maniac concocted a laser sniper-rifle that fires one-tenth second pulses... And at one whole terawatt per pulse!"

"WHAT?"

"Heh-heh-heh," cackled Ben with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "That's just me for you, though. I'm so far out there that I even freak the people the freak the 'danes. That aside, though, no. We're dealing with much more conventional things here. Good old cordite and projectiles. Though these should definitely manage to deal with anything up to and including that giant they sent after you guys. Though I felt we should play it safe and include some heavier ordinance."

"IS... IS THAT A BARRET .50 BULLPUP!?"

"Close. The upper on that thing is a single-shot bolt action chambered for the same 20mm rounds used in CIWS systems and fighter jets. I don't think I need to tell you exactly how much respect that thing demands. And speaking of... Hey Rob? A moment if you don't mind?"

"Sure... Okay, what's up?"

"I talked it over with Washu-chan and she agreed with me that it's very likely that escalation might occur. And in the words of Burt Gummer, when you need it and don't have it, you sing a whole 'nother tune." With that, Ben carefully handed Rob a small, nondescript box with a curiously dangerous looking warning logo on it. Ben only leaned over and whispered one word into Rob's ear and he went as white as a sheet.

"Goodfellow."

Thoughts?

EDIT: Oh no worries. It won't come to that. It's going to be a different classification of 'righteously cheesed off'. The sort that will have Beldlandy right next to her with said battle ax.