Blast_Radius

You've met Charly already, it sounds like. I'm X-Ray. X-Ray Foxtrot to be precise. I'd say 'nice to see you', but it's not that easy to see, especially in the dark like it is tonight.

It's morning? Sun's out? Geez, must be my optics again. S'cuse me, won't take but a second to fix them all up. They go on the fritz pretty often - they weren't mine to begin with, so they're kinda getting into a state of disrepair.

Guess I should explain how I got them, where I came from, huh? Eastern Europe - I can't really say too much more, I know that much from the files I found before I esca..

I'm getting ahead of myself again - sorry. Let's try that again.

I'm 17. Not the youngest Foxtrot, and definitely not the oldest. For ten of the last twelve of those years, I was a guest of Crey's europe branch. I don't know exactly what they were trying to find out - but I got put on the fast track to becoming a hired killer for them. I remember pretty clearly the day they took my eyes out. Not even a 'here you go, have a lollypop' or anything. What a way to treat a kid!

After that, it was 'Here's a bad man. Stare at the bad man.' Took me a month before the headaches went away enough to actually focus the beams from the optics they gave me. I still get them, way too often for my tas.. Doing it again, sorry, sorry.

I didn't really care with what I was doing at the time. I did it because they wanted me to, and I thought if I made them happy, they'd treat me better. Lab rats lived better - at least they got the reward at the end of the session. Instead, I got the electric shocks when I wasn't learning 'fast enough' or was 'behind schedule'. Talk about performance anxiety.

Foxtrot busted me out when I was 15. A raid to get the other kids out - to hit Crey where it hurt. I hadn't ever heard of them before - hell, I'd never even heard about a Playstation before. But seeing those other kids move - they were amazing. I wanted to be one, I knew that much. So I followed them. Tagged along on their retreat until they said 'You're free, kid.' I mimic'd the salute I saw them do. I guess they understood, cause I'm wearing their clothes now, their colors. Charly lets me use her gear sometimes - I love the acid mortar.

And I occasionally win in Madden.

People don't understand, I think - why kids fight. I wasn't anything but a tool before - and now, I'm more. I've got a family, and I've got friends. I've got a reason to do what needs to be done.

I'm a Foxtrot.

*comclick*

"X-Ray reporting, Charly. Go ahead."

[ QUOTE ]
(( That's Kus, with the unnecessary(?) violence. We're glad she's on our side. (She is on our side, right?) ))

(( Next chapter will be posted later this evening. In the meantime, for the curious, here's what "the Vixen" looks like. ))

[/ QUOTE ]

Kusanagi scares me..

And I've been in the SG since the start! ;_;

Thank you for the update, Posi.

I'm not sure if it helps the people that got hurt by ED the most, but it's nice for some of the other folks, I guess. Less slotting of the end-red, and adding slows instead to my ice blaster.

((This is not a bump cause MJ's in my SG. This is a bump cause everyone should read this!))

JointPopper: Kheldian/PB
Song: 'Holding out for a hero': Bonnie Tyler
-------------------------------------------

"JointPopper.. There's an emergency."

The details come in over my comm, a quick situation rep that shows up on the inside of my 'shades. They aren't just for fashion sense, you know. A mess of hostages, a ticking bomb - and a whole crapload of Family, thugs and muscle for rent. The building's close - I can see why Elisa pointed it out to me. I roll up the sleeves of my jacket, adjust my gloves - leather with just a hint of brass in the knuckles, natch - and push open the door.

Inside my head, the tickle I've come to associate with the Peacebringer stuck in my conciousness kicks in, it's voice concerned. It's not a surprise what it says.. There must be dozens of those guys there, all with guns drawn and ready, just looking for trouble.

We/you/I are so few, they/them/others so many. Should regroup/retreat/prepare.

Concepts, images fill my head. Most of them involving the mob bosses standing up and around us, with me and my little head-partner splattered on the floor. I shove them aside, and reverse the images. I know we can do this - we have to. My hand goes to the jacket pocket, pushing the front open a bit more so they'll be able to see the revamped skull on the shirt I wear under. Let 'em think that the Skulls are rushing them - time to make them think I'm an army. In that pocket, a small device is clicked on - and music fills my ears. I'm already moving before the rock beat settles into my blood

Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?


The first trio don't have a chance to react to me. They're talking amoungst themselves about how they're going to spend the money they're getting for blowing the building up, not paying attention to me - the grumpy woman with a voice in her head and a mad-on for the Family. A fist clocks into the first, dropping him - the second takes a leaping knee to the back of the head. A bolt of white light from my eyes drops the third.. but as he falls, he triggers his walkie-talkie - and over the static, I hear another voice echo out.

"Ah, crap! We got capes! Form up, and protect the bomb, you mooks!"

Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?

Too appropriate - it's almost eerie, really. I crank the volume - knowing they're ganging up in groups means I have less to worry about with getting snuck up on. The voice in my head doesn't agree, but I shut it down, push it away. At least for now, we're not working as one. I'll patch it up later, but I don't have time now - maybe till the end of the song, depending on how desperate they get. I'm already in another sprint, then airborne, surrounded by white light, starting to search the building. It makes me visible - but.. no time!

Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream
of what I need

I hit the next group like a freight train, fifteen strong, with two scared faces - those are probably the hostages. Bowling into them, I drop one before the rest can turn - all raising their guns at the same time, swinging them my way. I give up control to the voice in my head, trusting him to know the best way to deal with it. With a growl, I can feel my body shift, the hard plates of his armored form collapsing, and my own body withdrawn into his head. The pounding bass pulses in our combined body, and his foot raises up high, pausing for just a second..

I need a hero!

The boom of drums in the song is overwhelmed by the thunderous blast of the crab's foot crushing down, the mobsters flying away. White light erups from the ground in fissuring cracks, somehow managing to miss the two huddled, cowering people. We move away from them, to engage with the Family that are trying to get back to their feet. One's grabbed between a tri-clawed hand, other fist coming up - a full-strength punch to his face, then throwing him back into the group..

I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight

Tons of asskicking ensues. My Peacebringer tagalong's gotten into it, I can feel it. Each swing is deliberate, each motion moving in time to the music that only we can hear. He came to me to learn how to be a hero - but he already knew how to bring down the house in a fight. From the inside, I watch as gunner after gunner fall, the bullets they spray bouncing off my/our tough hide.

I need a hero!

Another crushing footstomp leaves the remainder to fall over - and he turns the form back over to me. It's a rush, a sudden burst of sensation and perception as I'm me again.. back in my body, back in my right mind. The hostages run towards me, bow.. and then run away, towards the door, helped along by a steely gaze behind the glasses I wear. Scare 'em off - this is no place for innocents. The lyrics in my ears roll on, as I take a deep breath, and then rocket forwards. That bomb's still out there..

Up where the mountains meet the heavens above
Out where the lightning splits the sea
I would swear that there's someone somewhere
Watching me

The minor key change is almost premonition, a warning in the back of my head, like ice along my spine. Something's not right as I swing around the corner and see the second group, huddled around the bomb and another hostage. So many, but no boss? No driving force? It's not enough to give me pause, though - and the second group goes down faster than the first, knocked senseless in bursts of pure white force.

Through the wind end the chill and the rain
And the storm and the flood
I can feel his approach
Like the fire in my blood

Fire in the blood - again, prophetic. That's what it feels like to be hit by a Quantum weapon, if you're bonded. And I am. And I collapse like a poleaxed bull as the shock screams through my system, and again, before I can turn. As my body goes limp, I spin like a manequin with my strings cut, landing facing the people who came up behind me, a man in a natty white suit, and a goon .. a Skull. Dressed in black and white, and I know the face. Bonebreaker, the man who kicked me out from the Skulls, who almost killed me once - and he's got a Quantum Gun in his hands. Still, in my ears.. I hear the music, reaching it's fever pitch, as I try to force past the pain that makes everything go white.

like the fire in my "See, I told you she'd fall for it. Get her outta the way.."
like the fire in my "Nothing but a trumped up two-bit failure without power..."
like the fire in my "Go ahead.. have some 'fun' with her first, then it's the fishes.."

The pitch of the music is music grows almost dirgelike, angry and fierce, as Bonebreaker steps up to me, kicks me with his boot. I feel something break inside, and I can feel my 'other' cowering deeper, as if trying to pull away from the gun that's pressed up to my head. Bonebreaker pushes me to my back, a hand ripping my jacket open, and the gun moves to the Skull on my chest. I can tell the gun's about to fire..

like the fire in my.. My arm raises up, under the Peacebringer's power. I know I can't move it myself, and he shouldn't be able to either.. But my voice echoes out, that musical peal matching the smoky anger of Bonnie Tyler as it yells out.. "Blood!!!" I can feel it's energy rip out through my fingers, directly into Bonebreaker's chin. It's perfectly aimed, the knockback sending him sailing right into the Capo.. knocking both unconcious as the music settles into it's solo - peaceful, restful.. just the thing to let the aching body subside, let me get back to my feet.. and to finish the arrest.

The hostages have to help me out - but they're smiling. They get to be heroes too. And maybe that's not such a bad ending..

I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life
Larger than life..

Kill Skuls

"G'wan, scram, girl. You ain't worth jack to us. Useless, played out - hit the streets!"

It had been a bad night.

An interrupted carjacking, an attempted robbery, and even a purse-snatching. All failed. The only good thing was that the teleport and transmit tags that had been placed on her collar each time had failed to go off, letting the woman skulk away back into the alleys after each attempt at a crime. That's where she was, hiding from her gang. Hiding from the Skulls.

A failure.

She'd been warned. She'd been told by BoneBreaker himself, 'Shape up or ship out.' She knew what going back like this would be - showing up at the hideout in King's Row black and blue, burned and frozen, spitting up green goo and black chunks of darkness.

She'd be killed.

I could run. Hell, I could move outta Paragon. Iowa. Yeah, Iowa's good. Nice place for a ... who the hell am I kidding? They probably just do .. like, farm stuff there. You ain't never been on a farm, Terry. What the hell are you gonna know about farming? Nah, Paragon's your place. You stay there, you suck it up and you prove to them you're stronger than them. Tougher.

The monologue plays through her head as she rocks back and forth on the concrete, arms wrapped about herself as if to try and warm her skin, absently flaking off pieces of ash or soot from her outfit. Gang colors, through and through - white and black, a hint of ash-grey or red from blood, dried and dark. Slowly, with a unlady-like grunt of pain, she pushes up to her feet, cradling a bruised left arm in her right, starting down the street.

Okay. Play it cool, Terry. Remember, hero stops ya, you're Terry Jones, not Terry Bales. Not Jointpopper. Not a Skull. You're just out on a walk.. got mugged. No, you don't remember what they looked like. Yes, some nice hero saved you. Simper, smile, and move. They pull out your rap sheet, you paid your debt, tell them it's harrassment. You can make it to the 'Row. And maybe you'll be lucky enough to find some money or something so BoneBreaker doesn't practice on you .. again.

She cuts through alleyways, taking the long route back, avoiding the gouts of green smoke that burst into the night air - signals of magic, of the Thorn. Looking for victims, or completeing rituals on those already found. Either way, they're a magnet for heroes, and she's in no position to fight one right now.

Hell, I never will be. Face it, Terry - you're worthless to them. Powerless. Washed up punk with no future, and a past about to beat the crap out of her.

She pauses against a brick wall, leaning heavily into it, cradling her bad arm as she sinks down to a sitting position. Across the street, a man in a gore-stained lab smock looks about, his fingers around the haft of a bone saw. Eyeing her, he starts to walk towards her. Behind the thin surgery mask, she swears she can see his smile widening. But she's so tired.. and hurt. Better just to give up..

Yeah, that's it, Terry. Give up, let 'em chop you to bits. What a great freaking idea. GET UP AND FIGHT!

It's an effort to push to her feet, moreso to grab a piece of rebar lying next to the ground. Hefting it up in both hands, she wobbles woozily, and lifts it into a 'batter-up' position. As the Mortificator approaches, she makes a face - the smell of dead and soon to be dead things on him almost too much for her to handle.

Gonna be sick.. Crap, can't do this. I need help..!

And in that moment, things change. There's a tingling along her spine, like someone just jabbed a taser into her lower back, and turned it on. Her muscles feel like they're on fire, tendons taut as whatever it is decides to overwrite her nervous system with a lightning-dance of pain. The rebar falls to the concrete, a clattering clamor of weakness sounding out - unarmed again, fallen down before the psychotic surgeon. His voice is raspy, as if his throat wasn't quite .his..

"Hold still.. This is for science."

But instead, her arms come up, pushing her head up to stare directly at his eyes. Behind her glasses, power grows, her voice different - stronger now, heady with newfound force - and dualistic, a melodic overtone to her harsh scream. As she yells, white light erupts from her eyes, blasting the doctor back against a wall, knocking him unconcious.

"You will not harm/hurt/kill US!"

As she watches him fall, she's already aware of that secondary presence.. that tickling in the base of her spine of another .mind., one willing to give it's free will up, to learn of the world it had found itself in. And offering only power in return, with it's only request, to know what it's like to be a hero..?

A hero, huh? Maybe.. But for right now, we're gonna talk with BoneBreaker.

Pushing the nagging into the back of her head, she starts back towards the hideout. Time to show them what .real. power was.

Time to ...

Kill Skuls.

Jointpopper, Virtue Server.

After all, a girl can still look stylish in a guy's clothes, right?

JP - Ex-Skull

*Thick bronx accent* Yeah, promise. No askin' about the jackboots. Didn't want to anyways. Last name may be Boskoweitz, but I understand that whole 'past is past' thing.

Excuse me. Name's Bruno, commonly known 'round here as 'The Hit People Guy'. I just wanted to know why you guys stay in Paragon, when there's thousands a 'heroes around? Do you think that they'd go 'n follow you wherever you went, or do you have another reason staying here and having the massive batches of heroes workin' you over seems good?

Jus askin'. Personally, I was pretty pleased when The King came in first time, and started helping clean up the row. Up until he started to pick up stuff that was needed, it was great.


And uhh.. Do you guys have real names? I mean, Miss deVore's got one, obviously - but not to offend, lady, I'm sure you're nice and all, I just ain't run inta ya yet.

Thanks, and I'm sure we'll meet sometime. Y'know. Professional courtesy 'n all that.

*click*

JointPopper: Yeah, yeah, I know, watch the language, etc, I'm sure there's a <bleep> delay built in. Gimme a sec, I'm thinking!

Awyeah. I wanted to know why those two bit dead guys and those clockwork doohickeys think they can move outta back alleys and rooftops in Galaxy and Atlas? That's Skull turf! Skull turf, you hear me?! You'd better stay deep in Perez and hide out there or we're gonna come bust some <bleep> <bleep> <bleep> <bleep> in your <bleep> and then <bleep> it out the other end!

Awyeah. Question. Right, uh.. I didn't expect to get this far. You guys ever think a joinin' up with one of those space squid things? Y'know, the uber-calamari. I'fn not - I'm listening to ideas on how ta shake free of on*grk*.

*line goes dead*

((Hadn't thought it through for .all. my characters, but the following applies for the two I have.))

Cold Sore (That's CS, thanks!) is a student at one of the local high schools. As such , she's not often out at night, gametimes.

Hit People Guy runs a really small moving company, called 'Bruno Bosko's Boxes' under his secret ID. He recently just saved enough to put his mama up in one of the nicer parts of Steel Canyon. Sometimes, being SS/INV makes for quick moves. Being able to carry the piano yourself is a good thing.

None of my heroes would take money for hero-ing. It's just a little too wierd for them, I think.

I didn't have a lot to say about it, other than that it looked really well thought out, and it sounds like a fun character concept to work through! I hope you have a lot of fun!