DeviousMe

((Where'd my drill line go? ))

1008: "Summon B2 Strike" is not a real spell, even if I'm the technomancer.

"I do wonder what he is planning." Hotaka said with a curious smile on his face. For the first time in a long time, he actually moved, twirling his Fu Manchu in thought.

Leaving his beard alone again, he spoke to Torroes, "Do tell me, my friend, what is this 'Abyss'? It is not the realm of nothing at all, I do hope...?"

--------------------

Lt. Rakkman grumbled quietly over his patrol, his K-9 unit pulling doggedly on the leash. The German shepherd was his 'partner'...he detested that. How dare they assign a dumb mutt to him instead of a real partner? At least that would've made these patrols more bearable.

Lloyd was the dog's name, and he didn't seem to enjoy the Lieutenant's company either. Unlike Rakkman, however, the dog didn't complain, instead homing in on something he'd caught the scent of.

"Dammit, stop going so fast!" Rakkman berated the dog, straining to hold the leash back. He presently patrolled one of the Zig's upper exterior tiers, and though the prospect of the dog going over the edge entertained him, he knew they'd dock his salary if something happened to Lloyd on his watch.

Suddenly, the dog threw a fit, stopping and whining loudly. His front legs stepped over one another constantly, and his gaze was directed towards the large rectangular casing of a rooftop heat exchanger.

"That's more like it." Rakkman grumbled, "Now what're you so outta yer cottonpickin' mind about, dog? Something' over there?"

As if to confirm, Lloyd let out a bark, straining against the leash again.

"There ain't anythin' there." Rakkman complained, not able to spot anything, but the dog kept pulling until he finally got fed up, "Aiite, aiite, go get it, ya stupid mutt!"

Undoing the leash Loyd bolted away and behind the heat exchanger in a flash.

Then things got quiet.

"Aw hell, what'n the world is up with that dog today...?" the Lieutenant complained, finally following after a few seconds, "Listen, you dumb mutt, if I gotta clean up after ya, I'll..."

He turned the corner of the heat exchanger.

Another bark echoed.

About twenty seconds later, the Lieutenant and Lloyd stepped out from behind the unit. This time, the dog was off his leash, which hung lazily in the uniformed guard's hand as they walked.

"Let us go, my friend." the guard told the dog kindly, "You look hungry."

Lloyd barked enthusiastically, following the man by foot...

OOC:

Well, my general idea of the place was the generic supermax with:

A cell block with single reinforced doors and two levels, along with a shooting gallery just for guards on the third level (nor reachable from within the block), and a 'lock-out gate' being the one way in and out of the cell block, which I described earlier already.

No yard on the outside, but they would have some sort of gym or secured weight room, as well as some sort of rehabilitation program/learning center (with library, of course). After all, the Zig is supposed to be rehabilitating these people.

A cafeteria. At least I'd think not absolutely everyone would be confined to their cells 24/7.

A vault of some sort to keep confiscated weapons in. The regular guards have their own armories, and the SWAT security personnel have theirs to make sure inmates can't get their hands on the more dangerous stuff.

The lab of Dr. Raiken, of course with adjacent experiment chamber, like you find in every generic mental hospital run by a madman.

And of course several security stations, including the main hub staffed by the SWAT personnel for extra security. At least that's what I was imagining.

((Oh be quiet, you.

*hands Diov more popcorn*

*inspects the drill line*

Okay, so we still have AD, Soviet, Prodiguy, Tom, Billy, Khell...I know Hal and Ess are on their way from the channel...okay, cast and crew assembled. Let's get this show on the road then.

*hands script to the DIRECTINATOR*

Action!))

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Acid let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, he'd feared they hadn't fallen for it. Though different from the active camouflage and deflector generators he was used to facing, the shimmer of the light bending was enough of a clue to tell cloaking fields when he saw them.

It had worked. Good.

Though he ran the risk of other pursuers now following the semi (which had no sensors to detect such pursuit, unlike Aci's car), he felt it was a warranted risk.

He'd done everything to keep it minimal, too. He'd made his and Kefetasura's teleport as covertly as he could, and the tinted windows of the truck's cab, along with the reflections of the orange halogen lamps of the highway, appeared as mirrors in the dark of night, not allowing any sight of the inside unless someone got extremely close, as in right next to the window.

The transponder had been manipulated as well, still showing the truck on its original route even when Acid switched lanes towards the next exit. There was no way for the transponder tracking system to keep tabs on this truck now.

Slowly but surely, the semi made its way out of the city. Checkpoints were no problem, as the truck was ID tagged and cleared for EZ-tag stations, not necessitating a stop. It was a good system Archlich had built, as cargo trucks simply couldn't be stopped at every checkpoint without strangling New Mu's supply lines.

Before long, Acid and Kefetasura were in the French countryside...

--------------------

Acid's car kept its present course as the semi exited the current highway and transited to a different route.

Now it would just drive around for as long as possible without alerting suspicion that there wasn’t anyone in it anymore. Once it ran out of time and/or room, SENECA had a little surprise in mind for its pursuers...

--------------------

Vern sighed. Wow, his sure was taking a long time to get everyone into the telepad bay. Luckily, it seemed the group at least followed a general migration pattern.

Once everyone had finally gotten into the bay, Vern gave the ship the go, and off they were...

--------------------

The group materialized deep in the French countryside - a hilly area dotted with fields, hedges, a few collections of trees, and a village here and there. The area was off the main road and rail system, through a few smaller roads did cut through the terrain.

Night fog blanketed the landscape, a common occurrence in the rural areas of France, even during the day. Since night covered the sky now, it had of course formed even more so.

Some of this mist started to gather around the group almost immediately, obscuring them from view.

"Just in case." Vern stated, 'looking' about, "Moon, why don't you add some more?"

It didn't take him long to locate Rosie and crew just a few hundred meters south-southeast of their position.

Vern turned to the robed man again, "Lead the way..."

--------------------

The mechanoid carried Cobalt through a series of other rooms and corridors, all constructed in the same strange manner: catwalks and platforms over the abyss of the white-glowing substance.

The robot seemed to know where it was going, taking confident steps through the maze-like construction that carried uncanny resemblance to a giant engine of some sort. At times, it seemed to Cobalt that the bot was doubling back they way they'd come...at times this was even true.

Still, the end of the journey was reached before long.

Another of the large, black, mosaic-like doors hissed away in the blink of an eye, freeing the way into a cylindrical room with what appeared to be a pillar at the center.

The cylinder was gigantic, several stories high and at least fifty meters in diameter. The central pillar ran from a collection of pipes and nodes on the ceiling down into the abyss of the white, slowly moving substance.

"Junction reached." the mechanoid declared monotonously, simply stopping after the door had closed, "Directions for use to Unit Cobalt: jump..."

--------------------

The Dark Airship, now bereft of 'crew', had no intention of taking on Archlich's Army of Death fighter craft. It had to admit, it was surprised that they'd managed to find it through the dark matter cloak, which rendered any sort of electromagnetic-based detection systems unselss.

Still, there were of course means of scanning that didn't involve the EM spectum, such as sonics. As such, the ship was of course impressed - but not unprepared.

The massive aircraft engaged more layers of obscurity. Moments after the fighters appeared, it faded from their perception completely. The additional cloaks rendered it completely covering it against any direct means of detection, even hyperwaves.

Then it dropped altitude, calculating the fighters were likely to shoot at its last detectable position, before they could do so. Almost all human pilots, so likely even undead ones, were trained to pull up when things got hairy. Going down was the very last thing any pilot wanted to do, and so the ship exploited that instinct...

((Finally! Okay, who's still here?

SOUND OFF!

ONE, TWO!))

So long as you don't stick me in a witch outfit, go for it.

What? Seriously, how do those wenches freakin' breathe?

Ryuu Hotaka: "Yes you are! Luckily, so am I!"

*aims cat cannon at Grey*

((Pst - only two cell mates. Ryuu is his last name, Hotaka his first. You'll see why as we go. ))

I don't think there's anyone who's seen Phillis who doesn't like the guy. He's just so awesomely cliche, yet anazingly believable at the same time. I think every one of us here has a little Phillis in them to identify with. Some more than others.

Indeed. And do remember that some of us went the other way around, stuffing a character into the AT and not vice-versa. Someone once made a round peg in a square hole analogy, which is very illustrative in this case.

But Blightlord and minions too powerful? Meh, not really. They come across fine to me.

((Quite. And Ess, how'd you get this thing to printthe ue and the sharp s? Last time I tried to copy and paste a special character in here, the post came out in hexadecimal. ))

"Hello." Hataka's voice came gently to Torrores' perception. Ryuu himself hadn't moved a bit from his meditation on the floor, but he nevertheless seemed able to muster every aspect of the new arrival.

"I suppose I should greet you with 'what are you in for?', but I think I will leave that to dear Phaith over here." Ryuu continued, "He doesn't have much else to pass the time with, I'm afraid..."

((*zaps Hal with the cattle prod of fanboy-stoppism*))

Hal's just being mind-controlled by the Tau again. Pay him no mind, it's a phase.

((M'kay, I'm gonna try this and see if it ellicits a response.

*pokes Khell and Soviet*))

AD...I don't know what you do, but in my line of work, if you left enough evidence behind that an airstrike wouldn't take it all out, then you royally messed up. If you worked for me, I would have to fire you on grounds of gross negligence.

*drives off as rocket launcher falls from the back of his truck*

Oops...

If at first you don't succeed, call in an air strike.

((Oh no, I've got plenty of motivation - I just need people to notice the raging chaos near the first. And I really don't want to lose Khell from another thread by just postrunning him down again. ))

((I'm still waiting for someone to notice the falling trees. >.> <.<

Not to mention Khell seems to be busy lately and I don't wanna overpost...))

817. In Soviet Russia, Dragon solos YOU.

Wow...just wow!

"No inventing the minefield." has got to be my favorite.

And no Laz, Colts are, not shotguns.

It's a story, Laz. Told from first-person view with literary elements and all that, ya know?

Excellent work, by the way. I think you inspired me to add something about force fields WITHOUT a heal here soon.

((Again, Vyachslav isn't scanning anything, he's just listening. ))

The things Vyachslav 'heard' just there weren't exactly promising. Whoever the guy with this Xey character was, he apparently had a checkered past - that might prove useful later.

However, other thoughts over there were much more interesting. The combatants had moved into the forest, out of direct visibility, but their minds still yelled scatter in every direction. Needless to say, Vyachslav was extremely glad when he recognized Toy's individual patterns.

He could, however, clearly see Wolfgang now, approaching the tree he had chosen as his vantage point. Actually, it was kind of nice to be looking at someone at eye level for once, even if he was presently on all fours. In Vyachslav's opinion, of course, most other lifeforms were quite small, and the tree helped out a fair bit.

My name is Vyachslav. Of where is not important. So...

The thought was interrupted by a sudden sinking feeling of his left hand. Not two instants later, Vyachslav detected motion all about.

A trap - it figured. So this guy had just been bait, huh? Well, he'd show him that being big didn't always mean one was slow too.

The razor disks, however, were faster, and the first one struck home before Vyachslav could leap back. The saw blade collided with his left arm, sounding aloud as metal slammed into metal.

Suddenly, Vyachslav just stopped.

He hadn't even felt that...the razor disk had clanged off uselessly, digging into the dirt as it rammed into the ground.

Vyachslav ran a calculation. The result: the razors had neither the proper velocity nor material hardness to do any harm to his armor.

What was going on here? This was obviously a trap - and this guy had lured him in...no?

Okay, rewind. First my gate gets redirected here, and then something tries to suggest me anger. Next thing I know, there's people beating on human zombies, and this guy, so conveniently a telepath, starts talking to me. One of the zombie-beaters is Toy, the others not sure yet...

Vyachslav of course kept his thoughts to himself, but it looked more and more like the same force who'd brought him here had also brought Toy here with the same intention: to lure them both into a trap. Since others were helping Toy right now, it was only logical that the same applied to them.

However, without the snippet of thought from Toy, this still would have taken quite a while to figure out. Vyachslav knew far too many with the power to do such things. However, the robotic mastermind's scatter narrowed it down to just one: Blightlord.

Vyachslav remembered Blightlord. He loved traps and could never get enough zombies. Yeah, this reeked of him all over.

Still, there was something he couldn't figure out: Blightlord wasn't the smartest guy around, but he knew how to set a professional trap for the intended target. This was just downright pitiful - which meant Vyachslav couldn't possibly have been the intended target!

They're after Ace!

The conclusion seemed painfully obvious now. This trap was most certainly a danger to his friend, and Blightlord knew plenty of Acid's curiosity. He knew the guy'd wander right over to Wolfgang, who bore the outward appearance of just wanting to strike up a conversation.

In truth, he had to be one of Blightlord's allies!

Indeed, Blightlord's spell sent to retrive Acid had royally messed up. Then again, there was no way the spell could've known that a certain bounty hunter would jump in after Vyachslav instead of the reptilian.

The whole thought process had taken less than a second. In the meantime, three more razor disks had clanged into him and met their demise in the dirt. He didn't even bother trying to avoid them. The same fate reached any disk that targeted him.

An almost painful impulse suddenly roared into Wolfgang's mind.

Sorry pal, you picked the wrong victim for your little trap!

With truly frightening speed, Vyachslav rushed forward and struck a massive clawed hand larger than most humans at him. Even if Wolfgang managed to avoid it as well as the sudden vortex of air its pass generated, the tree splintered like a toothpick...

--------------------

The sound of rapidly cracking wood suddenly washed over Toy, Slater, and Marcus. In one direction, the trees seemed to have taken on a life of their own, their crowns swaying and shaking violently as a few came crashing down with a racking cacophony of cracks and snaps...

--------------------

Thysthe swore as he saw Amora take aim, instinctively leveling his rifle to her new position and squeezing the trigger again...

All the weapon discharged was a cloud of hot air as the heat vented through the sides of the half-split barrel. The beam rifle had, as predicted, overheated.

Not good!

The bounty hunter instantly rolled to the side, his prone position making this extremely fast and easy.

Sadly, not fast enough. The moonbeam((?)) hit home and lifted his body up with force, throwing the armored man into a nearby grove of trees and brush...

((Heh...and I thought my friend Alan was the only one. Man, was he ever pissed when he saw they used his alias as a serial killer's name. ))

"Plans?" Hotaka smirked, but didn't turn towards Phaith, instead maintaning his meditative stance, "Why, whoever said I had plans here? Of course, this may change...I may just have to pester that doctor fellow overyone seems to be so afraid of into learning a lesson of respect and leaving well enough alone..."

--------------------

Dr. Raiken, of course, hadn't the slightest inkling of any intention to 'leaving well enough alone'. Ghoul was fascinating enough, and now there was an influx of new vic, erm, volunteers for his research.

In his mind, who cared if they suffered or not? They were dregs, the lowest of the low - and after all, this was for science! Sacrifices were necessary.

"Interesting." the Doctor muttered as he hovered over his lab computers like a vulture, reading a certain profile on the subject 'Dragon of Decay'.

Raiken's eyes narrowed as he scratched his chin. This made no sense. The proper name of this file's subject translated to 'Mountain Dragon'. Why the misnomer?

He chuckled darkly, "Heh heh heh...this is a little mystery I'm going to just love tearing out of you, Mr. Ryuu Hotaka..."