DeviousMe

The Watcher knew he probably should've done something. But this was just too damn amusing.

Nevertheless, there was a job to get back to. Now their attention would have to be redirected...again. Well, whatever had to be done, he supposed.

Why couldn't these things ever be straightforward? Actually, no, things could be crooked, he really didn't mind so much - just so long as they weren't bent in such mundane and predictable ways...

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"I don't mean to interrupt everyone's good time," the Sword Sorcerer nonchalantly gathered the group's attention again, thumbing over to the reptilian tracker, which had started moving again, "but from the looks of it, we've got a new target."

"Brighid Moreira must be nearby." the Colonel stated supportively, though it came out a bit more mechanical and unconvincing than intended, "We should keep going on this path..."

OOC:

Wasn't meant as one, heh. Though I sadly have to say that things are pretty humdrum around here. I expected more out of this thread.

OOC:

No GMs, only Diov.

OOC:

Yeah, there hasn't been any deviation from the road we're currently on. It seems to be a long one.

Richard: "Let's litter it with bodies!"

((Jumping to conclusions already, are we? This oughta be good. ))

The Watcher tensed at Energon's remarks. This could mean trouble. For everyone.

Worse yet, he was still bound to inaction. All he had permission to do was observe and relay. He just hoped this would smooth over...

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Sword duo seemed not the least bit perturbed, nonchalantly answering Energon with calm tones, the Colonel following the Sorcerer's words.

"We're brother..."

"...and sister."

"Weng..."

"...and Zweng."

"We think very much alike."

"So we've been finishing each other's sentences for a long, long time now. Comes with the territory."

"And what are you talking about?" the Colonel extended her arm towards the reptilian, "Of course the healing worked. Can't you see? The tracker is doing just fine again."

"Are you sure your senses are working properly?" the Sword Sorcerer questioned further, subtlety trying to undermine the hero's competence, "This operation is very stressful, after all. I mean, we are pursuing one who took down the Statesman. You might want to rest your nerves a bit..."

((*pokes Khell* ))

"Couldn't agree more." a Vanguard operative gave Grey and agreeing nod, a few personnel having assembled behind the man, "That's why we don't have any time to waste. Don't wanna get jumped again."

The armored soldiers seemed quite eager to get going. They would follow Grey's orders to the letter.

On the other end of the large chamber, an Adept answered the Warmaster's inquiry, directing him toward the entryway to the small portal room, where Lk'Onik could be found. The Psi-Scout had assumed a meditative pose, clearing his mind from the confusion that had befallen it earlier - the reason he'd been quiet and nearly impossible to spot on the small mental network between the four Rikti.

If addressed, he'd of course reply, though Cher'tak may not have wished to disturb him. In a state of deep thought like this, Lk'Onik could more easily scope out the main network in great detail without fear of discovery; something the Warmaster knew he'd planned to do before Nemesis had attacked. After all, knowledge of what had happened so far was a rather high priority to which directions Vanguard's plans would take after the facility had been fully secured...

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"It figures." the creature shook its head with a sigh as it stopped. The bone plate that extended from the back of its skull underscored the motion even further than its gaze passing over the floor, "I really need to find a way around this whole undeniable logic thing without increasing their intelligence."

With that, the being turned to look up at the Fool again, seeming to muster him closely with its pupilless eyes, "And no, the one you met was XANV. He's my do-this guy. Actually, you did meet me before, but you doubt you knew it at the time - I'll give you one guess who all those quantum blocks up there are a part of."

"That's right," the creature gave the Fool a toothy smile, "I'm the representation of the computer's controlling entity. You would probably call me an AI. It's a little more complicated than that because I'm really just a tiny piece of a large puzzle, but I don't want to bore you with the workings of duplicit mechanics of quantum uncertainty."

"Oh, and yes, there is a reason for this form." the being went on to explain, "Dr. Webb stinks at programming, so he asked the entity I'm a part of to make me very familiar to him for ease of interaction. After all, what better shape than your own family, right?"

"In any case, you're still not supposed to be here." came a very matter-of-fact statement, "Thusly, I'm afraid I'm going to have to get rid of you. Nothing personal. You seem a likeable fellow. But I have to do my job first. It's the only reason I exist in the first place. You understand, don't you?"

With that, the creature rose up onto two legs, stepping over to the elevator the Fool had come from. Apparently, the intelligence the AI had been modeled after felt just as comfortable as a biped as it did walking on all fours - something that could get dangerous in a fight.

However, the clawed hand reaching for a symbol group inside the alcove gave a more likely impression of the creature simply intending to use the environment to be rid of the Fool.

Then its hand stopped for a moment, the being turning back to the Fool, "Well? Come along now, I'm not going to carry you..."

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The TacCom's face became a mask of disgust. A low-down move like that was just what he'd expect from a meta.

And he had - or more precisely, Malta had. The organization wasn't stupid, and like the US military, their vests of course came with groin protectors. Sure, it didn't tend to help much against super strength, but was certainly more than enough to prevent Matt's kick from doing any real harm.

Still, the force sent the Commander dipping back a bit, allowing the katana to slice his weapon easily. Worse yet, before he even knew it, the scrapper had cleared the distance to the second Hercules and practically sliced it in half!

"Command override!" the TacCom bellowed as he whipped out his sidearm, "Engage merger sequence!"

The Hercules units let everything stay and be, their heavy steps shaking the roof as they ran toward one another, internal locator beacons giving them absolute certainty of their relative locations. To anyone who'd tangled with Malta before, the threat stood in clear view, even as the TacCom made a break for the sniper rifle that still lay on the roof...

((He's helping the good guys, isn't he? ))

The Watcher gave a mental huff. This was getting annoying. Despite everything, none of these guys seemed to be finding what they were supposed to, and that Dax guy was getting really annoying.

Wait...maybe he'd jumped to conclusions. At least one of them seemed to be getting an idea.

Still, there was that Dax guy. So he wanted a reward, huh? It figured. Where did the days go when heroes helped just for the sake of helping? It was Hero Corps all over again.

Well, if he wished a reward so bad, the Watcher would tell him just what he'd be rewarded with...

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The tracker rose again, though the reptilian creature still seemed a little undteady on its feet, balancing about with asymmetrically arrayed wings to compensate. Oddly enough - if Bladewing could sense such things, of course; if he couldn't, it was more of a moot point than anything else, although other people who did have this ability may have picked up on the oddity - he may have observed that the healing energies simply flowed about the creature, following the contours of its scaly coat, then simply dissipated away into thin air.

"Weng." was the Sword Sorcerer's dry answer to Darkvapor's greeting, the man taking his hand into his own. Strangely enough, an almost creepy sensation entered Darkvapor's being as his hand touched the cold armor of the Sorcerer. It was as if he shook hands with a machine.

"Zweng." the Colonel introduced herself as well, and if Darkvapor chose to shake her hand, the same clammy feeling would arise once more. Were they just showing extreme antipathy to him in their very being, or was it something else?

After the chilling welcome, the Sword duo made their way over to Dax just as he completed his rant, the Colonel beginning with, "Oh, don't worry about that. Your reward will be greater than you can even imagine."

"Of course, if you don't want to stay," the Sorcerer continued, "you're always free to leave. But if you leave..."

"...then you won't learn anything." both Sword operatives said in eerie unison, then left it at that, making their way back to the group...

((Dukes? I thought they were Princes? Oh, and so we don't get into another big ramble of confusion - are all Clockwork in Boomtown now held together by super-evil dude or just the group with Babbage?))

The Watcher began to grow impatient. What was taking these guys so long with Babbage? At this point, the idea of hiding here and simply observing was getting old real fast.

And then the Assemblers fired more lightning on top of that! What, their tracker wasn't important enough to have posted a guard over? Okay, now this had gone too far - he was going to have to do something about this...

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The Sword Sorcerer extended his staff again, but this time toward the reptilian on the ground. The Assemblers' electrical assaults swerved deftly away from their intended target, instead once more gathering at the tip of the arcanist's weapon in another sphere. He didn't hesitate, lobbing the stolen energies back at the Assemblers as he added his own, expecting the resulting ball lightning to take the nuisances offline for good.

The Colonel seemed to agree with this sentiment, her rifle discharging a ballistic shell into the center of the clockwork mob. At first, it seemed to have no effect at all - but then the pile of Gears trying to mug Sanders (as well as almost all Clockwork except Babbage and the Assemblers caught in the immediate area) started shambling about in an extremely uncoordinated fashion, no longer able to perform even a single cognitive action.

Now the effect stood clear as day: the Colonel had fired a psi-bomb, heavily stunning anything that couldn't resist the extreme disorientation upon the mental plane in its area of effect. Still, while normal Clockwork were extremely susceptible to such strikes, and would probably have all been stunned, it stood more likely that the Assemblers and Babbage weathered the strike, which the Colonel expected...

((One more time: there is one Sword Colonel and one Sword Sorcerer. Not two of either, just one of each. ))

The Watcher sat somewhat dismayed. Even with the Clockwork at an even match for the task force members, they really should've taken them out by now. After all, some heroes and villains could single-handedly lay waste to a group of foes expecting a full team of eight...

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This time, the Sorcerer seemed prepared, however, gathering the incoming bolts of electricity at the tip of his staff, then blasting a devastating ball lightning strike back at its former owners, adding enough power to the electric cluster bomb to make even an electric brute quake in his boots.

Apparently, targets had switched now, the Colonel taking aim at the slowed Babbage, blasting a sun-hot plasma blast right through its center, the woman creating a large, slag-rimmed hole in the massive Clockwork's chest. Armored if may have been, backed by a stronger force than usual as well, but the power that held it together couldn't change the vaporization point of its member materials...

((I'll extend my hand in a gesture of neutral will then (no, you're not getting good out of me, that's final ). Earlier post edited.))

((Eh, not really so obvious. You never did say anything about the Boomtown Clocks had actually changed. Plus, like I said, even lvl 5 Clocks can give maxed-out heroes grief with a little something, which is what I initially thought you were going for when you just said, 'the Clockwork in Boomtown'.

Buuuut I guess we can let it slide this time around - it's pretty much choice #1 anyway - if you lighten up a bit on that powertrip. I mean, an energy blaster's damage output is a threat that even Babbage won't just shrug off, a katana scrapper can make mincemeat of just about any lvl 50 boss, and belittling Khell's idea of -res like that...I'm sorry, that's just not cool. If you wanna call me ignorant, that's fine, I've got a thick hide. But don't vent on other people, 'k?

Taking that into account, I'm afraid the disparity between +2 Sword bosses and +0 Clock bosses would still end up with the Clocks getting the short end of the stick - especially with burn patches. Heck, even if they were completely even, you've seen what Shield can do to enemy bosses above their level. Now imagine Sword. ))

((So? Call me crazy, but if I started writing stuff into an RP of mine that wouldn't work, I'd expect people to correct me on it. We actually had something like this happen with Grey a while back. If he hadn't corrected me, I would've never known I'd done something wrong. ))

((Diov, I'm afraid you're not getting the point there. Levels have not suddenly become important. However, in-game levels are representative of something's relative standing. Clockwork are a fairly low-level villain group because of the way they are constructed: out of scrap. Loosely held-together scrap. That's also why they're weak to most damage types other than lethal.

Now yes, more powerful Clockwork do exist - the ones manufactured by Neuron and Anti-Matter are factory-made combat droids, well-armed-and-armored. In the same idea of higher level ()< better quality, when CK goes nuts, normal Clocks become Psychic Clockwork, which is a villain group from 45-50 (I think, might be 40-50), to represent that their make-up has shifted from semi-robotic piles of junk to constructs of almost pure psychic energy.

So here's the deal: there's no way normal Clockwork can be higher than lvl 20. They're just not built that way. Now, if Super-Evil Dude made his own Clockwork (ala Anti-Matter/Neuron) or is empowering regular Clockwork into Psychic Clockwork, then yes - but if it's the latter, you do need to denote they are psy, nor regular.

And if he made his own, I'm sorry to say that stuff like "they must have read their info wrong", "he THOUGHT he'd decimated the Assembler", "the attacks did nothing", and "shield of ignorance canceled out all attacks" isn't going to cut it here. You should've said something earlier, you forgot, so you went on another powertrip - and you know I'm right. No excuses.

Now then, we have 3 basic choices here:

1. The Clockwork were built by Super-Evil Dude (disguised or just look-alikes, doesn't really matter).

2. He got the King to turn them psy, or he did it himself.

3. The really, really, sneaky, low-down dastardly nasty thing that Clockwork as low as lvl 5 can do to give even lvl 50 heroes lots of grief. There was a hint of this in my earlier post. If that wasn't enough, PM me and I'll tell you. You'd like it. I know you would. ))

((Well, that's the thing - just 'bumping them to 50' doesn't work. The max you could make them is lvl 20. Otherwise, psy are needed.))

((True. And let's not forget that psy's only when CK goes into super-schizo-mode. Eh, then again, I guess NOT Cohen could be a psi guy too. Either way, we'll need to go one way or the other here, both at once don't work. ))

((Quite, Babbage is fine. But yeah, they'd have to go psy if 50. These were described to be the normal ones 'local' to Boomtown, which stop at 19.))

((So...just when did the local Clockwork suddenly transmogrify to lvl 50?))

The Watcher wasn't happy when Babbage entered the scene. Sure, from his vantage point, he'd seen the thing coming from a ways away, but it would still slow things down.

Okay, please tell me - why did they have to come here again? Wasn't the plan to find this Brighid Moreira?

Plans change, my friend. You should know that better than anyone there. And I already told you.

Right, right. Got anything else for me?

Not at the moment, no. But don't worry. Just keep observing them, and we should soon know all we want to.

Right.

The mental conversation was of course secure, its facilitator taking great care to not revel that Watcher's presence, not to mention his location. Still, a very experienced telepath may have been able to pick up that something was going on around the task force...

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Babbage's ball lightning struck home, the reptilian creature apparently not fast enough to escape the electrical assault, barely having time to stand before the impact. Arcs of iridescent blue danced about the crimson-scaled quadruped, and with a series of twitches and spasms, the thing dropping sideways to the ground like a tied-up AT-AT Walker.

Eyes closed and body moving bit by bit, it was a safe bet that the tracker had just been knocked out cold by the electrical discharge.

If anyone put the reptilian under close scrutiny of their senses now, they would likely notice the flux across its scales had been disrupted, the waveform not quite reaching more than a small area about the collar anymore - which really made perfect sense when one considered that electricity did tend to disrupt magnetism. It seemed somewhat odd, however, that the absence of the flux had caused the creature to pass out.

The Sword duo seemed taken by surprise, the Sorcerer struck deftly by all three lightning bolts.

Thankfully, impervium was a good conductor, and the presently grounded state of the man seemed to allow the Sword Sorcerer to weather the lightning strikes without keeling over right away.

But that wasn't the half of said surprise for the others. That the bolts had harmed him to begin with rounded that out.

The Clockwork firing may have been Assembler Princes, but they were still just that - Clockwork. Now, Paragon City had many threats to its safety, and so had long ago developed a system of 'threat levels' to classify them upon their potency. Clockwork stood near the lower end of that ladder, their presence in Boomtown more precisely described as ranging from threat level fifteen to nineteen.

Not that this really mattered. The very best Clockwork still did not present a treat higher than level twenty.

And even the very newest Vanguard recruit, the most greenhorn operative around (had this organization been classified with the same system), was not assigned field duty until he or she could stand on even ground with a threat of at least level thirty-five.

The Colonel and Sorcerer, a part of the Sword as well as close to the upper echelons of Vanguard? Level fifty-two - not accounting for their rank. That meant even just one of them was a serious challenge for even the toughest villains around, and here stood two.

In summation: the Clockwork (excluding Babbage, of course...no, on second thought one monstrosity against a whole team of top-notch heroes was too) should have been in so deeply over their gear-filled heads that it wasn't even funny.

They should have been.

But they obviously weren't.

Nevertheless, the Sword Sorcerer's counterattack proved devastating, the arcane operative blasting a freezing sphere at the already slow Babbage (even when it ran at full speed, a non-sprinting hero could easily outpace the thing). The monster slowed to an even more languishing crawl, the heavy blow of frigid cold doing quite a number on its frame.

The Colonel's strike came to be even more unfair, the woman having a plethora of dastardly munitions to choose from the varied set of her long-barreled rifle, which she carefully aimed at the two remaining Assembler Princes, choosing the one closest to the mess of Gears that had sprung from the others.

The resulting WP round set everything ablaze for a respectable radius, leaving Clockwork all around suddenly standing in the insane heat of white phosphorous fires, patches burning wherever a fragment of the Willie Pete round had met an enemy...

"Hm?" Baalial turned about for a moment, hearing out the question. The answer came along with a nonchalant wave, "Large? Oh, don't worry about that. Don't you know dragons are shape shifters...?"

Apparently, the creature had been listening to something else until this point in time, as the sudden twitch in its muscles fully gave away that the Fool's presence now surprised it. With motion rapid as a bolt of lightning, clawed hands released the railing and the head twitched about, allowing the Fool to get a good look at the thing - although the clearly defensive posture may not have been what he wanted to see.

For a moment, the being didn't move, its pupilless left eye considering the Fool with great scrutiny. Then, however, it dropped to all fours, casually wandering about Ryat66 at a constant distance in a fashion extremely similar to a large, predatory feline, head locked to the Fool's as it paced the perimeter.

"Hmmm..." it finally remarked, ceasing its trot, "You're not supposed to be here. How did you get away from my sentries...?"

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"Go on ahead." the Lady Grey gave the all clear to Delta team, her Dark Servant rearranging some equipment, after which it vanished into thin air, "I'll be along shortly..."

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Arcs of luminescent static crackled from the Titan's sensor strip as Matt's blade cleaved a deep gash, the machine stumbling back in surprise for a moment. Roughly a second passed before it fired a plasma bolt at nearly point-blank range, though the chances of actually striking the scrapper had fallen to nearly nil at this point.

The TacCom, however, didn't need a second. Coming out of his roll in a crouch, the man attacked immediately, seeking to turn McGinty into Swiss cheese while he still busied himself stabbing the Hercules.

Cory's plan, however, didn't quite work out. The ice sword crouched into the Hercules' works, striking a weakened spot from the earlier fireball to slow the mechanoid, but there was after all a good reason why Malta Titans didn't blast each other with their own munitions when in close combat with heroes.

Extremely sophisticated IFF systems.

A bash of the Titan's heavy arm crashed into Simmon's frozen armor, the ice cracking woefully under the impact, but leaving the blaster mostly unharmed. Still, an action demanded an equal and opposite reaction in this universe, and the sudden impulse sent him flying, Cory's back hitting the roof a good few meters from the Hercules.

Then came the missiles.

The Titan may still have been in their path, but the intelligent munitions didn't much care. Swerving around what identified as 'friendly' on their sensors, the sudden bend in their trails of smoke might have looked almost comical - that was, if the concussion warheads hadn't been about to slam into Simmons...

((Ouch, Diov...not a very flexible plot, huh? ))

The scanning glare of the man that had formed from the puddle reached exactly the same conclusion as Energon's earlier analysis of the creature. It seemed the reptilian's nature wasn't very forthcoming, at least so far as information was concerned.

Indeed, the being seemed somewhat disinterested in him, trotting over to a pile of rubble and planting itself upon that, apparently content to wait until the others had gotten here.

The Vanguard truck would probably be the last to arrive, but when it finally did, the duo of Sword operatives stepped from the vehicle in utter silence. It seemed they had no need to speak to one another for any reason.

A few seconds passed before it appeared that the two had realized how awkward this must have looked, the Colonel quickly addressing her counterpart, "So then, Mr. Magic, we're here, and I don't see any hostage. Any other bright ideas?"

The Watcher relaxed a bit. That moment of inattentiveness had almost let everything go sour. It all had to proceed so very delicately...

Watcher on the Knoll. He'd always though that a somewhat odd designation, especially considering the happenings connected to it. Still, for this operation, it had been a more than acceptable codename; a very good suggestion indeed.

Perhaps he really should study up on local history more. It had been described as truly captivating at times, not to mention highly useful when it came to certain things.

In any case, there'd be time for that later. Right now, the idea was but to observe while at the same time remaining unobserved. So far, that had been working excellently. Here came the first of the group, Bladewing, without even the slightest clue as to the location of the observer. He had to admit, the idea of hiding right here had been truly fantastic. He even stood close enough to hear every bit of what was spoken, and yet none of them had even the slightest clue...

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The duo of the Sword didn't bother with any walls or bridges. Sure, if they'd gone straight north, they'd have to navigate said obstacles, for whoever had built this section of town had apparently possessed some sort of love for meticulously wound roads and hairpin turns. Still, blocks were hardly present to such an extent to stop the truck. Traversing this area was just a waste of time.

Instead, they headed out of the DPO due east. The engine roared as the Sorcerer popped the truck into six-wheel, rumbling over two consecutive debris piles, then taking a left onto a smaller side road. A few girders of mangled steel went down like a house of cards, the vehicle easily clearing the mound of rubble that contained them, rolling onto another section of open road beyond.

Another left followed a curve, and then the truck pushed its way past a fallen tramcar from the destroyed tracks overhead. What few windowpanes the thing still had shattered cacophonously, metal protesting loudly as the truck shoved the tram out of the way to get to the road beyond.

A little further sat a pair of containers, the vehicle's powerful engine pushing past them just as easily (one was empty and very easy to move), then cutting across the concrete in front of a somewhat still-standing high rise to make a left turn ahead. From then on, only one more large mound of debris stood in the way of the ramp to the Powderkeg, the ascent perhaps fourteen meters, give or take.

After that, the Vanguard simply followed the mostly clear road that zigzagged its way through the sector on the upper edge of the wall that snaked through the Powderkeg in the same fashion. There weren't any obstacles larger than a car, and even those had more than enough clear space about them to give a comfortable berth.

All in all, it took the Sword duo about three minutes to reach the three-way junction at the outskirts of the Cannonade, the very same intersection that sat right above the tunnel leading under that sector.

Said minutes, however, did not pass uneventfully.

"Talk to me." the Sorcerer answered what appeared to be a transmission coming in through his helmet, "Yeah, I'd say so. They're almost there, yes. No, not just yet. Need to wait until the moment's right; otherwise they won't react the way we want them to. Of course I understand. Don't worry, the observation is being carried out close as it can be, and..."

The seemingly one-sided conversation ceased long before the Sword duo arrived at the destination, of course...