Averick

"Is that what we're feeding our bugmen warriors?" Mystic floated into the doorway. "What, are we trying to make him meaner?" Mystic smiled.

He floated up to her, smiling from beneath the mask. "Honestly I think your real superpower is making that stuff palatable." He moved away from Sting, and lowered his voice so that she was hopefully the only one to hear. "Myriam... I may have gotten you into something here. I... I.. simply cannot guarantee your safety. I will understand it if you would like to leave."

The mage looked out the dirty window... scratch that, clean window. Wait, "when did we have clean windows installed?" ran through his head. There was still a bullet hole in it.

"Master is to be back soon." Satanz looked at the phone puzzled as to what "phone duty" was. "Imp is guard. Let no one in or out who isn't supposed to be."

The tiny imp puffed up his chest and held up his fists. "You safe. You can sleep round master. Satanz protect."

[ QUOTE ]

Ive been on Virtue a year now and ive still not found a good active RP SG ? Ive got MANY characters. Anyone recruit one of them?

Ion Guard - Tank - Ene/Inv. - lvl 14
Exothermic Man - Tank - Fire/SS - lvl 10
Green Phantom - Def - bubble/Rad - lvl 10
Desverger - Scrap - Regen/Claws - lvl 10
Dead-Bolt - Def - Arrows - lvl 10
Machine X - Blaster - AR/Ene - lvl 36
cant remember name - Sound/Techs - lvl 10

Please.

[/ QUOTE ]

Perhaps if you gave any idea as to the origin of these characters. Or are you just looking for an extended friends lists?

When Smurd called, he sounded out of breath. “It appears that one of the shipments came from a Mercy Island. Now here’s where it gets strange. Some Crey guys were here trying to STOP a shipment from coming in, from the same island. AND, Azuria’s name is on the billing label. The ship is the Ortango Ruiz, and it’s coming from Cartagena. It should be on its way to the Talos Island western docks in the next twenty minutes, but I’m too far away, plus I have to tie things up here. Can you…”

“Of course, I’m there straight away.” Mystic didn’t even let him finish his sentence.

“Good luck, my mystic mentor.” The line went dead. Mystic stood from his desk and levitated the imp off the chair. “Are you deceased? Oh, good, you’re moving. No one is to get in our out of this building until I return, unless they’re part of the Two Six staff, understood?”

The imp rolled over to face him in mid air, then spun upright and landed on the ground soundlessly as Mystic let the spell go. Satanz little helper rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then nodded at the mage. “I understand, master. As you wish, master.”

Mystic flew toward the dock, keeping low to avoid the eyes of anyone watching his approach. As he came over a large building though, he was briefly visible to the agent that was looking out for him.

“Target approaching the building.” The infiltrator called out.

“Well done, I would have thought there would be no way for him to make the distance in time. It seems your strategy of holding off may yet pay off.” Her mock admiration was wasted on Agent Dorn. Her opinion meant less than nothing to him. She was only his peer for a moment.

It wasn’t that he thought she slept her way to the top, or had an uncle who was high up in Crey, he viewed everyone as inferior. He was devilishly clever, and Machiavellian to boot. As he watched the projected trajectory, he noted some distinctive differences in the costume of the hero in the brief glance that he got as Mystic passed in front of a hastily set up security camera.

Mystic noticed the camera, sitting unattended by a vent, and melted it from behind. For a split second before the picture went out, there was light. This wasn’t lost on Agent Dorn at all.

“Looks like he found one of your cameras, I don’t think your idea is going to be as effective. Perhaps we should switch to my idea.” Tina gloated. She was hating having to prove herself time and time again. She was beautiful, she was as smart as Countess Crey, SMARTER even! There was no reason that the entire company shouldn’t just bow down and worship her as she was, or so she thought. But no, there were to be endless tasks set before her to be done to prove her greatness. And despite what others call failures, she refers to them as incompetent subordinates and poor intel, she still felt that she was so much more qualified for leadership than anyone else, that she shouldn’t have to suffer with these common soldiering swine any longer. And because of her willingness to go to bed with high ranking males in Crey, she had forged a reasonably powerful position.

But Agent Dorn wasn’t unaware of how power was attained. He had made promises, and then set about making them come true. He had also worked very hard at killing anyone who knew of his betrayals and making sure they stayed dead.

“I concur, wholeheartedly. As a matter of fact, I’m going to go secure the transportation, you may have sole control of the recovery team.” Agent Dorn folded up his laptop and headed for the car with his personal assistant in tow. One of the Paragon Protectors, named Stitch, noted the sudden chain of command with uneasiness.

“Well, that was easy.” Tina smiled a smug, self satisfied smile. “Put the trap in place. Release the bait.”

Azuria was pushed out into the center of the loading area by the crate she was there to sign for. A snakelike man, with a tail instead of legs, and a viper like head, was pulled from the darkness and slumped over the crate. He was barely moving. Mystic Inferno pulled the Broadsword he’d been loaned by some people he helped on Croa Toa. He hoped the flashing blade had struck fear into the hearts of the enemy enough that it could be used as a way to ward off attack, and thereby violence. He was wholly and completely wrong.

As Mystic flew in the big, open warehouse loading area, he looked about at the dark stacks of crates before touching down in front of an extremely nervous Azuria. The sound of a cannon going off over head startled him into looking up as the cage came crashing into the cement floor around Mystic. The sides were too close together to get a good swing with the sword, and the material didn’t look like steel anyway.

Crey security rushed in from all sides, staying out of arms of the cage. Tina walked out from behind a crate, flanked by two paragon protectors. Mystic looked in Azuria’s eyes, “I’m sorry” they plead.”

He looked at the snake man, dangerous by design, but nearly unconscious here. He felt the reptilian held answers to what plagued King’s Row. There were twenty five security officers and one Crisis Unit surrounding Mystic. He slowly lowered his blade.

“That’s a good boy, Smurd. We’ve heard you’ve been a problem recently. Came out of nowhere to suddenly cause us a little bit of difficulty? You thought that would go unnoticed? Those bars cannot be cut through, the alloy is extremely resistant to kinetic damage, of course you pay a price in other areas, but that hardly matters to you, does it Smurd?” She smiled at the cowled figure, Mystic simply looked at the ground, letting the sword fall from his hand. “Bind him.”

Both Paragon Protectors stepped forward to place restraints on Smurd, when Stitch saw something that didn’t sit well. The swordsman looked different than the pictures in the file. There was a red light coming from the hood, and as Stitch stopped, and the other Protector continued to within arms reach of the cage, Mystic turned and looked at him. The light from the red glow in Mystic’s eyes showed the sudden realization on Tina’s face, as she held a hand up in front of her in horror.

Mystic lowered himself to a knee, and a blast of super hot flame shot out in all directions. Most of the security forces were charred skeletons, clattering to the floor with melted weapons. Some were far away to simply have expired from the flames and heat. Only two escaped with major burns. Tina’s assistant threw himself in front of her as the flames approached. He was roasted, but his effort saved Tina’s life, though she was now screaming and on fire. Mystic had commanded the magic not to harm Azuria, the crate or the reptilian man.

The Paragon Protector nearest Mystic, dropped the shackles and drew forth claws. He slashed at Mystic, but the mage simply stepped back, and the claws deflected lightly off the bars. Mystic breathed flame over him, catching Stitch too. Then, one powerful bolt of fire dropped the closest Paragon Protector, and Stitch knew what had to be done.

Azuria, ripped open the crate as three vipers leaped from the shadows, engaging the Crey Crisis Unit from behind. The bars were melting, and Mystic had held his arms out to his sides and set the area immediately around him on fire, melting the remainder of the bars and causing the roof to fall on his head and shoulders before he could push it off on the ground. He retrieved the sword and looked around.

Azuria’s hands were glowing, the crate was empty and the snake man was gone. The Crey Crisis Unit had dispatched two of the vipers, the third was fighting for its life with a vengeance.

Mystic unleashed a torrent of flame that swept around the Crisis Unit, overheating him and causing him to pass out. The two remaining guards were lying on the ground screaming or moaning. Tina and Stitch were gone.

The remaining viper turned and slipped back into the shadows, as Azuria approached him. “Thank you Mystic Inferno. I’ll never forget this.” And with that, she disappeared, leaving him alone, in a warehouse, with an empty crate, and no answers.

As he slid the sword away, hidden eyes watched through golden gilded slits from the shadows. Sirens blared in the distance, coming closer. Mystic decided that it would be best if this one weren’t explained. He launched himself out of the warehouse and into the night sky. “Why are there always more questions than answers?”

Everyone knows that I much prefer the concept SG or VG to the "extended freinds list" SG or VG. May I say that having headed Metaforces (perhaps the smallest SG in the world because you get no travel powers) and run all over every map in the name of character concept, I still won't join an SG or VG that is just an extended friends list.

A concept that I like that a friend of mine is doing is a return of the fifth column. Name withheld for secrecy. All the characters will be previous bad guys from the fifth.

My personal concept is an entirely reptilian VG, brought here by the Vipers to free them from slavery at the hands of Lord Recluse, they've ended up trying to carve a spot in this reality for themselves.

Cool backstory, god references, costume tips, and acceptable ATs withheld, as well as the name, because if I told you, I'd have to feed you to the Viper god Mu.

Incidentally, I really enjoyed reading the first few descriptions of VGs, and actually intend on looking into maybe making characters for them.

Concept SGs rock. Keep up the good work.

"Everything ok Mystic?" The mage smiled under his mask.

"Quite alright." He listened to the report. "I've felt since we've arrived here that we've been pushed back onto the ropes and not been given a moment to get our bearings. My question is 'why'. Mr. John Smurd here, a member of my failed attempt at starting a group of dogooders, will be assisting us in that task. Mr. Smurd is every bit as powerful as I am, if not an archmage, and handy with a sword. He'll help out where he can in gathering information, but that should be our primary concern right now."

Mystic hovered forward. "It appears that Mr. Smurd has uncovered something of a smuggling ring, coming in through Talos Island and Independence Port. Mr. Smurd, this is Abrahms. Ex military and extremely dangerous, as well as neigh on indestructible. Abrahms, I want you to take Smurd with you, and determine who is working with Recluse's men in those areas. I'll take care of keeping the home fires burning."

Mystic then set about procuring the items on Myriam's list. Many could be sent out for, some he had to wake the imp up and give him a list and some money. "Now don't be rude, and for goodness sake don't scare anyone. Here's some money, don't eat it."

At the last, Satanz gave a sideways look and snarled slightly. "I've dealt with money for longer than your race has walked upright..." he thought to himself before smiling once again and then porting out toward the store.

The report was passed along to a colleague of Alfred’s at Paragon University. There it was broken down, examined and several computer models were put together.

“Breeding.”

“I’m sorry?” Mystic tilted his head, paging through the Tome of Empires while Satanz little helper lay draped over a chair, sleeping in his office.

“They’re engineered to breed, quickly and thrive in whatever environment they’re placed in. That’s why the hydra DNA. Someone, or something wants the sewers flooded with reptiles.” Mystic took notes on a pad next to the tome. “At first glance it looks like they’re trying to combine human and reptile DNA, but the markers are all wrong for that. The sequences would be very difficult to combine with humans, they’re open ended. What this does, is force mutation, but they’re closing rapidly. I’d say, if your sample is a month old approximately, then you have about three more weeks before these creatures evolve into a life form that will be VERY hard to get out of the sewers of King’s Row.”

The mage shook his head. “Why? Are they going to grow into huge beasts? Are they going to release some poison cloud that drowns the city?”

“Not at all. Though individually, each might be formidable, they will reach an equilibrium with their environment and simply become part of the flora and fauna.”

“This makes no sense.” The mage closed the tome and sent it to its secret hiding place.

“I concur, Alfred. But then, I’m just a scientist, you’re the superhero. I have to get back and clean the lab, lest someone find out about my interest in your report. I hope this helped.”

“I appreciate it more than you could possibly imagine. Good day, friend.” And then he had it. One, big, useless piece of an increasingly difficult puzzle was now sitting on his desk like a rock. He needed help. More help.

“Smurd, Mr. John Smurd.” Laughter broke out through the gang of Skulls. One teared so badly he couldn’t see straight to aim his weapon anymore. The warehouse was entirely deserted except for Smurd and the seven men. Mr. Smurd wore a dark blue uniform jacket, costume pants and a cape. His cape covered with the same symbols as Mystic Inferno’s, flapped behind him slightly. His costume was quite impressive. He… wasn’t.

A bookish man, in his thirties, Smurd hadn’t exactly been born into being a hero. Even now he wasn’t certain he had the stomach for it. But when the first shot went off, impacting on his armor, the energy of his forefathers kicked in. His blade quickly leaped to his hands, the jacket and pants disappeared to be replaced with dark grey armor, and he was in amongst them, blade whistling by, through, and between them.

Soon, only the teary eyed one was left whole. His shock and astonishment showing on his blood splattered face. Smurd held the sword to his forehead, point first. The gun made a clatter on the ground when it hit.

“What… are you doing here?” Smurd still didn’t SOUND impressive, but the Skull was terrified enough by the spectacle that he dared not argue at swordpoint.

“I’m just a junior member! We just joined, the seven of us, from the old neighborhood. We haven’t even had that much superdine yet. I’ve only had seven injections myself, please don’t kill me!” The thug was facing a hero that regularly tangled with Crey agents, where he had to hang out at the punk end of Perez Park just to avoid being beaten up by his own gang members for sport. It really wasn’t fair. But tonight wasn’t about fair, tonight was about not screwing up a simple mission for an old friend. The point drew blood, and the question didn’t need to be asked again. “Changing billing labels. We’re CHANGING BILLING LABELS OH GOD DON’T KILL ME!”

A pommel to the head, a quick search for the billing labels on his person, and a tag to the zig later, and Smurd was on his way.

Smurd stood in line for a long time waiting for his superhero registration card. The entire time he tried to think of some name that sounded super-heroish. When he arrived at the front, though, it was his own name he gave. “You don’t have to be creative to fight crime.”

“No no no, you’re in that group over there.” One of the hero corps facilitators directed Smurd away from heroes like Dark Shadow, Nightshade, Shield of Justice, and Liberty Belle. He found himself amongst a group of heroes that were… different. He looked left at the girl with the bow, dressed entirely in purple, and the man to his right, with ram horns, a orange and green polkadotted shirt, and armored leggings of a robotic nature. The goat droid thing was jumping up and down in anticipation of being briefed.

The woman looked at him, “hello, I’m the purple arrower.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Mega Volt293,” said the hero to his right.

“Charmed. Mr. John Smurd.” He had suddenly regretted his decision.

The purple arrower leaned over and whispered in his ear. “I think we’re in the wrong group, some of these heroes seem… weird.”

Smurd began coughing. “You don’t say.”

Inauspicious as his start may have been, Smurd’s power and desire to use it for good are undeniable. So when Mystic reluctantly called upon him, he was happy to answer that call. Actually, he missed the call, as he was collecting statesman comics down the street, but he got the voicemail. And when destiny leaves you a voicemail, damn it, you call it right back! And… if necessary, leave a voicemail of your own.

Mystic listened to Smurd’s report in his office, and looked a the billing labels. “Something’s going on here. They’re keeping us distracted while they do something. Unless this station gets flooded with superheroes, we’re going to have to find a way to deal with these distractions and find the real plot.”

“You can count on me, my mystic mentor.” Smurd stood almost at attention.

“Brilliant. I suppose we should introduce you to whomever’s about.” Mystic opened his office door, noting that his passing didn’t disturb the imp’s slumber.

Mystic watched as everyone was seen to, and Sting was taken away. He settled next to Exodus, "we should get you squared away, dear. And before you ask, yes, it's always like this here. We're in a bit of a war zone, I'm afraid."

After equipping Exodus with the proper technological gadgets to get through the screen, and contact the crew he set her up with her own room. "We're not requiring that people sleep here, though most of us do. I've given up my apartment and had my stuff sent here. It's just safer for now if we can all keep an eye on her, you never know who might be spying."

The last was said as he slowly turned his gaze over to Satanz little helper who was on the telephone, trying to get an outside line. Mystic walked over and hung the phone up. "Calling someone?"

"Riley." Said the imp, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Ah, this Riley, who is he? Some arch villain keeping tabs on us?" The question made the imp tilt his head like a dog who'd heard a noise it didn't understand. "Nevermind. I don't want you giving reports to this Riley person. Come along, I was going to try to send you back but you proved quite useful in that fight."

Mystic hovered out of Exodus's room, bowing slightly. "If you'd like to take a nap and freshen up, I'll see to it that you're not disturbed." Shutting the door, he headed toward his office. "So, you're not going to play pranks on us or set fire to the building are you?"

"Not that kind of imp." Satanz answer was as reassuring as Mystic had come to expect.

Some time later...

“Do you believe this @#$@#$?” Newton demanded of Mystic as he stormed into the boss’s office. “We end up looking like horse’s patooties again, and Crey smells like roses. I mean, do we look that dangerous to you? Nevermind, don’t answer that. ARRG!” The green-haired man stormed back out of the office, not even giving Mystic Inferno a chance to say anything.

"Well, I..." He looked at the imp, who was holding a small orange candle in his left hand, and nothing in his right. The white candle was missing from the arangement on the table. "Spit it out."

Satanz took the white candle from his mouth and put it back on the table. Exodus entered inquiring as to linens and such and small talk ensued before...

Abrahms move to the door of the office and Knocks softly. "Excuse me, Mystic I spoke to the RJ he said Sting is out of the woods but will still need some more time for recovery. He claims to have caught a bit of shut eye, and does not want to be relieved. To quote "I put him in here, I'll stay till he is out" so I did drop off a change of clothes for him. Also made sure he had a woeking radio, just in case his paranoia is called for. " He starts to turn away, stops "pleasure to meet you Mam. Many thanks for all yours and Exodus's help." He lifts a knuckle to his forhead, with a kurt nod and smile before continuing to the front desk to stand his watch.

After Exodus left for the second time, presumably to nap, Mystic went about trying to put together a roster. He tried to figure what jobs needed to be done.

Patrols: Everyone
Response: Everyone
Investigation: Hmmm... who's smart? We should discuss this.
Forensics: Hopefully Myriam will be usefull here.
Computers: If only Ion hadn't gone. Our feline friend is good with machinery, perhaps she's the one to take the lead in such affairs.
Science: We do have some scientific work to do.
Magic: I'm supposing that will have to be me until a competent individual can be found.
Vehicles: I suppose we should get some before worrying about who will take care of them.
Defenses: Hmmm. I think Abrahms would be the one to turn to for that.

Later that day he approached many members of the crew to determine their thoughts on how to approach the, now three, major problems the Two Six faces.

1. The plot to create or test out a new reptile species in King's Row.
2. The deteriorating condition of the nieghborhood.
3. Sting's girlfriend's creators. When the police hauled off the queen thingie, Mystic forgot to ask what would even happen to it, or even check to see if it were alive or dead.

Abrahms move to the door of the office and Knocks softly. "Excuse me, Mystic I spoke to the RJ he said Sting is out of the woods but will still need some more time for recovery. He claims to have caught a bit of shut eye, and does not want to be relieved. To quote "I put him in here, I'll stay till he is out" so I did drop off a change of clothes for him. Also made sure he had a woeking radio, just in case his paranoia is called for. " He sstarts to turn away, stops "pleasure to meet you Mam. Many thanks for all yours and Exodus's help." He lifts a knuckle to his forhead, with a kurt nod and smile before continuing to the front desk to stand his watch.

As the last sniper window goes dark, Mystic turns toward the giant bug. He looks around the street to make sure there aren't any other unseen threats. Then, satisfied that they aren't under attack from some other source, he turns to Exodus. "Freeze her best you can."

Once again, Mystic pulls from the power of ancient magics to enhance the strength of his attacks and help them find their mark. Then he moves directly in on the queen, coming to land right off of her rear right, and hurls a powerful flaming bolt into her midsection. He follows it up by breathing flame on her, then hurling various magical effects at her, all while setting fire to the immediate area, burning her with all his might.

"That looks painful, lads." Mystic grimaced as large balls of ice came slamming down into their necks, backs, the backs of their legs. One unfortunate soul tried to lift a gun toward Exodus and was rewarded with several direct strikes on his forarms.

Within seconds though, they had made it clear of the localized storm and were in need of being tagged for arrest.

"Myriam, my dear, what an absolute pleasure to hear your voice-" A distinct CRACK rang out from down the block, interrupting Mystic's thought. The fact that these four thugs had given them the advantage in this fight was coming to the mage as he watched five Crey agents opened up from the windows and five move in with the tanks and crisis units. They would be in the kill zone if it weren’t for the distraction.

“Bloody hell!” Mystic flew directly at the assault team as Newton threw up his defenses. Mystic thought he already looked hurt, and the imp was reeling from shots above, hesitant to go after the snipers and leave Newton alone on the steps. “Go!” Mystic’s shout ended the imp’s indecision and he poofed away in a gout of red flame and puff of black smoke which had a twin inside one of the windows they were taking fire from.

When Mystic arrived, he activated the eye of the magus, and began drawing power for his attack, while hovering in the middle of the assault team. “Hello gents.”

They opened up on him, striking him with bullets, gauntlets and frost beams. Everything stung, even wounded him a little, but the spell made him virtually indestructible for a short period of time. Then he unleashed all of his fiery energy in one big blast. Flame tore through the cars nearby, shrouded everyone in range, and rose into a ball of flame headed skyward. Everyone on the street looked toward the Two Six.

Five charred bodies hit the street, and five Crey rifles clattered to the asphalt. The Crisis units were on fire and heavily damaged. The tanks faired better, but had still taken over half of what they’re capable of standing up to in a single strike. Mystic was, unfortunately, entirely drained. He used his amulet to regain enough strength to activate another spell, burning the tank and the crisis units even more to draw strength for the next onslaught. Needless to say he was now a huge target, and the clock was counting down on the eye of the magus. Soon he’d be vulnerable.

Mystic flew over the growing conflict, scanning the street for threats as of yet unseen, when he spotted a woman struggling with four thugs near a cab. He turned toward the imp, and pointed down at the front door and Newton. “Help him.”

In a second the Imp was next to the nearest thug threatening Newton, and pounding his darkness covered fists against his frame, draining away his essence.

Mystic flew like a missile toward the cab, slowing and sliding to a stop just as a deep, booming voice issued from the young woman. “Oh…” A look of recognition came over Mystic’s face. Not that you could see it behind the mask.

“You gonna break up our party, cape?” One of the skulls stepped forward with a .357 magnum.

“Oh, my goodness no. I really just came to watch.” Mystic allowed the power that he’d delved so deeply into to, to extend to the woman, who was capable of using it to be nearly as powerful as Mystic himself. It was this kind of bond that the tome’s magic imbued one with. He’d tried it with other heroes, but none took such full advantage as those who derived their powers from the same source. Mystic pointed to the woman, “good luck, lad.”

“There HAS to be a way to get this spirit of flame thing to stop. The last thing I can possibly need is to burst into a efreeti with no notice. Controlling efreetis, summoning efreetis… wouldn’t THAT have been nice if I’d read the correct spells. Hmm. They look like little impish licks of flame. I suppose I have time to- DAMN IT! Stick to the subject matter at hand.” Mystic was pouring over the book again, its glowing pages lighting up his dim office. “Too often you get caught up in the… what’s this then? Demon summoning? I suppose it WOULD be useful if I could… Why this hardly seems difficult at all. Perhaps just a small demon to start. We could certainly use the help.”

Moments later, all alone on the second floor, Mystic drew several magical symbols on the floor with flame. He was deep in evocation when the phone rang. Shrugging it off, he proceeded to infuse the symbols with magical energy. He fondled his magical amulet, in which he would store spells of healing, recovery, protection, enhanced power, accuracy, and even spells designed to bring him back from the brink of death or snap him from a daze or magical spell that holds him in place. He activated four of his most powerful energy spells during the summoning to control the creature, making it not too powerful to control.

The flames flared black, and an awful smell entered the room as POOF! Black smoke erupted from the center of the symbols and a small humanoid with tiny red horns appeared. The creature immediately summoned up its defensive auras of darkness and took a fighting stance. He looked around and quickly became… confused.

“You, summoned me, master?” Mystic had invoked the communication portion of the summoning spell correctly, giving the imp a greater vocabulary.

“Hmmm. You’re not much of a demon. I was hoping for something scarier. Is this your scariest or can you get bigger? Is that a jersey? Are you wearing a jersey? No no no, this won’t do at all. You don’t look scary in the slightest bit.” Mystic was shaking his head and looking over the book.

Satanz Little Helper cocked his head to the side, and his big, black eyes looked out of his grey face. His mane of red and black hair grew wild, parted in two spots by his blood red horns. His jersey hung off of his tiny frame, displaying the face of a devil on the front. Below that, he had a skinsuit and some boots. He carried two bracers, which had long since lost their magical powers. Mystic was right. He was anything but scary, especially when compared to a Behemoth Master or Overlord.

It was right about when Mystic had started looking for a spell to put him back that Mystic heard the call go out. Satanz was looking at the holes Nightingale’s mother had put in his jersey when Mystic’s head snapped up.

The mage’s eyes narrowed. Stay close. Mystic flew out the second story window and surveyed the scene from above while Satanz Little Helper teleported to the window and stared out at his hovering master.

The woman in green held her hand up to sting. One of the warlocks moved in the back, causing sting to rise, surrounded by the force of gravity. “I’m not here to harm you, and this is a solemn moment. I would appreciate your silence. I am Siverine, apprentice to War Witch, you have heard of her? I am here on her behalf. Issues in Croatoa retain her attention, so she cannot be called out on matters at this level of importance.”

She lowered her hand and the energy surrounding Sting evaporated, leaving him on his feet. “You are Mystic Inferno?” She looked directly into the mage’s eyes.

Mystic stepped forward. “I am.”

She floated toward him, hovering directly in front of him. “You have completed your trial of the illusionist, you have defeated the sorcerers of the Tsoo, and you have banished the Banished pantheon spirits. You are worthy to be brought into our circle. Receive this, commit it to memory, and destroy it.” She handed forth a scroll that looked ancient. Then she handed him a ring. “This signifies that you have attained the rank of Archmage. War Witch is looking forward to meeting you in person. Until then, we can only thank you for what you have done, and for what you have not yet accomplished.”

She floated back into the center of the signet. The group of warlocks stepped into the flame around her, their robes bursting into green flame, consuming all of them, and then in a flash, they were gone, and the lights and shield returned.

Mystic turned back toward the group. “Make a note, Sting. From now on deliveries are to be made round back.” Mystic slipped on the ring and headed back to his office. “Terribly sorry for all the fuss. I’m having a sandwich delivered later, so if a dimensional doorway opens in the lobby…” Mystic shot a glance back at everyone, “don’t be alarmed.”

I so swear no one reads these. But here I am struggling against the futility of the mighty OZ head.

OK, you asked for feedback.


THESE PEOPLE ARE CRAZY!!!

This is a new mission type, and people want to turn it OFF? I say just isolate mission types by contacts. Instead of saying "so and so works with clay and is vegen" or some unintelligible stuff that we have to sit there and scratch our heads and wonder "does she sell enhancements that my character can use?", have them be described as "in charge of missing persons" or "leading strike teams" or whatever works to get the idea across that they will send you on "hostage missions" or "escort missions" or "hold ground" missions.

I LOVE NEW MISSION TYPES AND CAN'T BELIEVE PEOPLE ARE COMPLAINING

That said, many people aren't, they're praising or saying "great, but one little tweak". And I agree, I think clearing a five level mission just to have to run back to the entrance is a bit much. How about to the elevator, is that good enough?

And you Kheldians, shut up about quantums. You already pretty much make us blasters useless, and tankers optional with the SAME CHARACTER. So stow it, no one cries for you.

In short, I absolutely love the new mission types. But here's a clue. We spent 7 hours in game waiting for someone to come and witness a bug in a mission and no one ever came. The next day we got a message saying "yeah, we already knew about that bug."

7 Hours. Need I remind you that we're paying you? If you really read this feedback, then you've got to know that there are tons of players out here who would willingly give up their free time to help the game get better for everyone, ultimately increasing profits for your company, which will allow you to buy Lexusi (that's the plural of Lexus), and date supermodels, so how's about putting the gas to the floor on the tech support side for these new missions that you KNOW are going to break, eh?

BTW, that was related because it was a new hostage mission. I wouldn't waste your time with a "kill all" story.

Also, it's pretty damned useless to have the rescued hostage at the end of the mission, unless we're escorting him. I concur.

Mystic heard the edge in Sting’s voice. “I don’t know, but I’m not certain it’s dangerous.” The mage secretly hoped that saying that aloud would provoke some sort of friendly response if the intruder(s) wished their intentions to be known. Sadly, that was not about to happen.

What WAS happening, unknown to Mystic, was that several Warlocks were sliding in and out of the Umbra dampening technological objects. Not destroying them, or disabling them, just turning them off really. Oh, and keeping them from turning back on. Soon, there wasn’t one electrical signature in the building coming from anything but the brains in the people inside. Then the doors slammed shut, and five red embers fell from the ceiling of the entry hall in front of the desk sergeant’s area.

They spun in ever expanding orbits of each other as they descended, touching on the ground some three meters apart, and immediately bleeding out into lines. They formed a circle within a circle, and red lines of light raced toward the middle, forming a pentagram. Smaller lines of red light cut back and forth over the floor, dancing about to form glyphs and runes until the ground was alive with light. Then the red light turned green, and flame leaped from the pentagram in a blinding flash.

When the light died down, a beautiful woman with dark hair and a green costume hovered in the air with her legs crossed. Behind her, along the wall, stood twelve men in ash grey robes. There was no light except for the green glow of mystical flame that rose a foot off of the pentagram.

“We’ve been a bit busy trying to find you and fighting clocks. I haven’t even seen the lizards yet,” Newton said. “Did you know your eyes are glowing now?” he asked, squinting at the mage’s face.

“What? Excuse me.” Mystic moved out of the cell and down the hall, where he stepped into the men’s room. There he noticed an odd glow about his eyes. “Bloody hell.” POOF!

Once again he was a floating efreeti, complete with psychedelic poofy pants and slippers and wielding a sword of pure flame. “Right… I should try to keep that in check. For now, I choose to believe that I can.”

A few minutes of concentration and some breathing exercises later, and he returned to his original form. This IS odd. I must consult the book.

Moments later he was again in his office when he finished reading the next spell regarding flame. The lights went out in the Two Six. He sent the book back.

He felt a presence of magic in the building. It didn’t feel hostile, just powerful.

Downstairs, upstairs, there were apparitions, ghosts, or maybe just shadows of robed men visible only in the corner of one’s eye. If charged, there was really no one behind the pillar, around the corner, or beyond the cabinet. A strange murmur could be heard resonating through the building. It grew ever so slightly louder as time went on.

Mystic was out of his office, and using flame to light his path. He could sense movement, and hear voices, but no one would fall into his direct field of vision. “Hello? Is anyone out there?”

I've got a ninja, now that my scrapper katana ninja has been nerfed to ineffectiveness.

It took several moments for Mystic to resume his normal form. He had to look through the book for quite a bit to find the appropriate runes. Then, he sent the book away again, where it was safe.

Mystic and Abrahms filled the others in on what they had found out. Clockworks had been enlisted, with the added bonus of an evil scientist to augment their technology, to capture and or kill members of the Two Six. It didn’t show any signs of relenting. With the lizard creatures still unexplained, and now the added bonus of having to look behind every street corner and billboard to see who might be waiting to take a shot at them, the pressure was beginning to build in Mystic’s head.

When they finally did arrive, Mystic saw one more thing that made him unhappy. Cinderflash was standing out in front of the Two Six. He’d come to visit him once before, when Pharos’s Cat died. He was wearing the same suit and the same expression.

Disembarking the Van early, and approaching in the air, he alighted in front of him. “My dear Cinder, you’re becoming the grim reaper.”

The big man somehow managed to pull his eyes from the concrete and in a thick Russian accent said, “it is that obvious?”

“I’m afraid so. Who is it?” Mystic tried to keep his tone reverent, but he was in a hurry to deal with his other issues.

“Picker.” Cinder noticed the confused look in Mystic’s eyes. “Surprised?”

Mystic put a hand on his hood. “Well, no, actually I’m surprised he was still alive. He was the Scottish lad who worked the breathing gear for you, right? He used to paint himself blue and run about with that sword, slicing ruffians, right? Shame. He was a nice lad. A bit brash though. I remember you two charging into things together and us having to revive him all the time. Oh, sorry, I’m going on. I know you two were close.”

The mage had to hover to put a hand on the gigantic man’s shoulder. Even in a suit and hat, Cinder looked like a badly planned disguise. He was clearly either a superhero or smuggling a Buick in his jacket.

As the crew began to pile up at the door, Mystic made introductions. “Cinder was originally a part of Super Naturals inc, but then went on to bigger and better things when his powers began to grow dramatically. He was just here to tell me how a friend of our has passed on.”

A small amount of small talk later, and Cinder was gone. “Please tell me in our absence someone has gathered some information about those lizards we encountered.” Mystic’s now glowing eyes searched the faces of the group.

Riley would be standing in front of a Lieutenant going, "where do you want me, sir?"

In short, anything he could as directed and until directed to stop or he fell over from exhaustion. But he's a big boy, so that'd be a while.

Mystic launched flame down the hallway in volleys. Fire swept up the walls and rolled off the ceiling as Abrahms kept the Council at bay.

“Certainly taking their sweet time, aren’t they?” Mystic quipped about the rest of the Two Six, over the crackling of flame, the screams of soldiers and the roar of automatic gunfire.

They had to retreat into the complex to avoid being overrun by hoverbikes, and even then they were close to being at the maximum capacity for their power. More elite troops were arriving and forming up in the back ranks, bringing fire suppression gear, asbestos shields and heavier rounds.

Mystic watched a mech man approach, and waited until it was Abrahms range, before drawing a grenade forth from his otherworldly shelf of equipment. The grenade detonated near the Mech man, sending out an EMP pulse that temporarily disabled it. But this trick wouldn’t be enough. Already they were cutting through the steel door behind them, and soon they’d overwhelm them with numbers from both sides.

Mystic never did this, he never felt that a situation required it. Or if he did feel that a situation required it, he feared that this would be an indicator of it being too dangerous. He was about to summon the book. “If I should fall, don’t touch this book, but somehow, you must keep it from the enemy’s hands as well.” His instructions to Abrahms over the sounds of combat were more cryptic than he’d hoped.

“What are you doing?” Abrahms asked over his shoulder between punches that sent council members flying backward into the flames. “…exactly”.

“I’m going to summon forth a spirit of elemental flame, an efreeti.”

“You can do that?”

“Of course.” Well, the book said he could. However it required he unlock the fourth symbol of power. This was something he, until right this moment, was unwilling to try. So in one fell swoop, he unleashed the entirety of his will into the spell, unlocking the fourth symbol and letting fly with the magic from his right, while his left traced the runes of the floating book. Light absorbed Mystic and then partially relented.

Partially, in that he was still giving off a great deal of light, and now heat, as he hovered there burning. A quick inspection of his scaly red skin and fire dancing from his body quickly clued him into what had occurred. A quick scan of the tome verified his suspicions. He had misread what the spell was going to do. It wasn’t summoning an efreeti, it was summoning the spirit of flame inside the mage. His form had changed, but essentially his powers had not. Except for the flaming sword.

“Oh my,” he said, to no one in particular. Then it dawned on him that he needed to keep the barrage up. Flame poured down the corridor once again, and now he zoomed forward occasionally to lance someone with a flaming sword.

“When they come, Abrahms, make sure to let them know it’s still me.”

"Yes, well, somewhere on Striga. Any chance you could arrange a lift for us? Right now we're in..." Mystic looked to the two Council.

They stared at him for half a second before snapping out of it. "Uh, Defense station sixteen!"

"Defense station sixteen of the Council wall fortification. These nice chaps were polite enough to let us borrow their phone." Mystic smiled beneath his mask at Abrahms. "So about that lift."

The flight was uneventful, until they reached Striga. There were the walls, manned by the Council guardians watchful eyes. The anti aircraft autocannons jutted out menacingly into the skyline.

“I feel quite like an allied bomber over this fortification, and I think it’s just a splendid time to drop in on our friends.” Mystic pointed to the top of the wall. “I think there’s a door over there, next to that artillery battery. Why don’t you gather its attention and I’ll melt it to slag.”

Waiting for Abrahms to get the cannons to fire at him, Mystic once again powered up his most powerful reserves and dove in on the anti-aircraft cannon, launching a powerful and terribly hot volley of magical fire straight into the cannon. Of course, after his magical aim wore off, he was hit and miss, scoring the concrete and steel near the gun, but leaving it mostly untouched. Luckily, his first breath and blast had heated the gun to beyond tolerance and it slowly began to melt until it couldn’t fire anymore, and exploded from bent barrels and rounds cooking off.

Mystic asked Abrahms to open the door, first providing a framework of welding hot magic around it to soften it up. The radio operator and rifleman inside were wide eyed at their entrance.

“Excuse us, terribly sorry about all the mess. Would it be quite alright if we were use your phone? We need to ring work for a lift.” They looked at each other in amazement.

Moments later, the land line at the Two Six was ringing.

[[Please don't do things like this in the thread. A personal dispute can easily be handled by going to a neutral third party like the person who started the thread you've both decided to join in on and asking their take on it.

Or by trying to work together in PMs. There shouldn't EVER be an argument between writers, even if their characters are dueling to the death with deep seated rage for one another that overrides their own sense of self preservation.

What you two have done is clutter up the writing and reading area with a lot of OOC posts that don't mean anything to anyone but you two. It would have best been handled in PM, and if necessary, PM someone else in the thread who's been here longer and who's writing you appreciate for tips on how to handle something like this.

Everyone's welcome, there's NO NEED to be a jerk to other writers. ]]

Mystic found himself surrounded by asbestos covered girders, arranged like a cage with an arm in it. The arm came forward and secured itself around his waist. Mystic looked left and right, finding several other cages, but only one with someone in it. Abrahms was struggling against a mechanical arm of his own.

“I guess you’re pretty confused as to how these simple machines found and subdued you.” The voice sounded like a megaphone was amplifying it through the cavern from somewhere below. The large, circular opening in the cave roof allowed the sunlight to come in and light the huge cavern enough to see scaffolds and catwalks and machinery below, ringing the eight cages. The voice, Mystic guessed, was coming from one of the human looking guys in the white lab coats down below. He suspected it was the one with the thick glasses and the greasy hair. “Well it wasn’t them. They’re just helping me. You see, I’m going to be the greatest villain in the world once Recluse-“

That was all Mystic needed to hear. They were both going to die if he didn’t do something fast. He fired off a stream of flame into the arm holding Abrahms. The fire wrapped around the girder and whipped and cracked for a second before dying out. So Mystic tried again. This time he opened up his two focusing spells and unleashed all the power of the book that he had absorbed into one powerful shot directly on the joint. It was amazing to watch the girder go through the red hot stage and directly into white, while Abrahms tore it from its aperture and freed himself from its grasp.

Within seconds Abrahms was free, leaping out of his cage and onto the side of Mystic’s. A red glow brightened the inside of the mage’s prison as Abrahms quickly pounded his way inside, then smashed the arm holding the blue robed spellcaster.

Heart racing, Mystic incanted his variation of the flight spell that allowed Abrahms to benefit from the power as well, and they flew out over the clocks and scientists, all the while listening to the little man on the bullhorn shout “no, wait, you can’t, what are you doing, the plan was perfect! NOOOO!”

“We don’t have time for this, we need to get back to the rest of the Two Six.” Mystic called out, heading for the opening in the roof of the cave. As oscillators approached, he melted them or Abrahms knocked them into spare parts as they made their way clear of the cave.

Once they were clear, Mystic looked to Abrahms, “how long were we in there?” Then he turned on his communicator and called for Newton.

Abrahms tried to get his bearing, hovering was new to him he moved in bounds not flight but it was a new sensation a good one no wonder Halo always had so much fun. "Mystic my comms were fried how bout yours?"

Mystic looked blankly at Abrahms. "I'm afraid we'll have to walk home."

"Don't kill him, he's the only who can tell us where he sent-"

The cage appeared around Mystic, who then rolled his eyes and sighed. "I just don't bloody believe it." A flash later he was gone.