Hallucinogen_NA

((Wahahahaha. Vegan=belonging to the star Vega. Thus: Vegans live on the planets that orbit said star. And yeah, I get that a lot. ))

"An excellent observation," said Reginald, masking his voice so that it was difficult to tell where it was coming from.

((Yup. He pulls this trick too. Come on, what good is invisibility if you give yourself away everytime you talk? :P))

As his turret continued firing at the Rikti, Reginald flew higher. He pulled a small object out of his pocket. . . a Vegan antimatter grenade.

While antimatter was probably the most powerful of all explosive substances in the world he came from, it was difficult to make weapons with it, as it was so hard to contain more than a few atoms, or activate the explosion without killing the user. But the Vegans, as usual, had figured it out.

Reginald had no idea how such things worked, nor did anyone in his world but the Vegans themselves. . . but he hardly needed to, he thought as he attached the grenade to an arrow and fired it at the Rikti, well away from any of his allies. Secret Vegan tech or not, it really just went "boom" like anything else.

((By which I mean. . .s'really just a grenade. ))

"I hate those games," Hal sighed.

* * * * * *

"Ah yes, Pharaoh," Moonscribe said from inside, his playing not stopping or slowing in the slightest as he played Scott Joplin's "Wall Street Rag", perfectly, as might be expected. "Do come in if you like."

Reginald was saying nothing, and his comrades might not even realize he was there, if not for the arrows that appeared from time to time through Rikti heads.

His presence was confirmed, however, when an automatic turret appeared out of nowhere and began mowing down the aliens with laser blasts. . .

Lessee. . .

Hal: No parents. He was created, however, by. . .*slams mouth shut*

Schizo: Hal and Schizo are the same person. Thus, see Hal. Schizo was also created by Hal in a sense, though.

Moonscribe: His parents were nice but somewhat distant. Moonscribe never really formed a close bond with them, and although they are out there somewhere they don't know where he is, and aren't all that worried.

Brightflame: He came from a typical family, who were, in typical fashion, shocked and nervous when they realized he was a mutant. But they also weren't too bright. . . as they didn't ever get that he WASN'T a mutant. Of course, Brightflame didn't either.

Sunswallower: His parents were jerks. Probably why he is too.

Steel Eclipse: Parents were mystics. He killed them when he was a teenager, and took their knowledge for himself.

Super Roby/Pyewacket: Their parents were cats. Who cares.

Reginald: His parents were neglectful and fought endlessly. It wasn't long before he ran away from home to become the serious, somewhat cliche bounty hunter he is today.

"Oh, uh. . .thanks, heh," Hal said, embarassed.

"And yeah, he'd drive her nuts," he whispered back, grinning. "That idea cheered me up a lot. Thanks."

"Nice place this is," Hal said, admiring the backyard.

* * * * * *

Back in his room, Moonscribe had somehow managed to procure a baby grand piano. Somehow it even fit, although looking at the hulking instrument in the middle of the room, it was fairly obvious that numerous laws of physics had been rewritten in order to do so. The hero sat at the keyboard, playing scales and arpeggios. It was not clear why he needed the practice, however, as he did not make a single mistake or even slow or pause. But then again, such standards had to be maintained.

"Ah, Pharaoh," Moonscribe said as he passed Hal, who was having trouble finding anything. "You know. You could simply go on the tour, rather then sulk for the remainder of the day. . ."

"Shut up," Hal muttered. "Why aren't you going on the tour then?"

"It would bore me," Moonscribe returned. "You see, I already. . ."

"You already KNOW EVERYTHING. I KNOW," Hal grumbled. "Look, anything to get away from you. Fine."

". . .Where are they, anyway?"

"Oh, I'll just teleport you to their location," said Moonscribe calmly, beginning to type.

". . .Wait, no!" Hal exclaimed. "I can walk, dangit, I. . ."

* * * * * *

Green smoke burst into view directly in front of Acid, as Hallucinogen appeared in front of him, and promptly fell to the ground, as Moonscribe had placed him slightly off the ground.

". . .I HATE that guy," Hal muttered to himself. "Hello, Acid. . . I guess I'm coming on the tour. Heh."

"Yes, an excellent choice," Moonscribe said, bowing to her. "It seems Hallucinogen is unhappy with his room anyway, and would prefer to sleep on the couch. So then, I will be off to our. . . wait, my room. Yes, I suppose it is just my room now. Good day, Priestess."

He walked off to his room, looking very pleased with himself.

((He is gonna get voted off FAST, isn't he? ))

Moonscribe sighed theatrically.

"Well, I suppose that would be the best course of action," he said, turning to Essex. "So, Priestess. What is your decision then? We all eagerly await your answer."

Hal facepalmed as he left the room. He was doing it on purpose. He HAD to be.

". . . I didn't say I did want to room with her!" said Hal, losing his cool, such as it was. "Dangit! I didn't ask four-eyes over there to volunteer me! Lay off me already! This is smoke I'm emitting, not hormones! For crying out loud!"

And with that, he vanished, having gone to find a couch to lie on. He was fed up with the whole affair.

"Shameful," Moonscribe said. "Well, I suppose I shall be off to my room then. I must confess my pleasure at having procured some privacy." He smiled, and light flashed off his glasses for a moment as he spoke.

"I am still not sure what the Rikti are," Reginald said, "but I believe I can assist the mages."

He cloaked again, and there was a faint humming noise as Reginald ran some sort of device over the door, attempting to disrupt any traps or locks on it so it could be opened. He stood to the side, so that if the door opened suddenly and the Rikti attacked through it, he would not be in their line of fire.

[ QUOTE ]

Scooping up Essex by the back of her armor again, she held her aloft.

"Who wants to trade?" she demanded.

[/ QUOTE ]

". . .Ah. . ." Hal said, going red.

"My friend Hallucinogen here would be delighted to trade with you," Moonscribe said to Rosalind. "I assure you I would be pleasant company, Priestess." He bowed.

". . .MOONSCRIBE!" Hal yelled. "I can't ask to room with her, she's, well. . .ah. . ."

"You may thank me later, Pharaoh," Moonscribe said calmly, folding his hands.

"I am Hallucinogen," Hal said as his turn came. "I am a hero of Paragon City. . .I emit radiation that causes hallucinations, which is my primary weapon against enemies."

And Moonscribe was next. His speech was really not likely to surprise anyone who had met him before, and it certainly did not surprise Hal. . .

"I am Moonscribe. Do not concern yourself with me. I am really of no importance."

Hal facepalmed.

"Okay. . ." Hal said uncertainly, his eyes on Lyden.

"Very well, Pharaoh," Moonscribe said. "You are Pharaoh, I hope? Guardian also seems possible, but I think you have enough male characteristics still that. . . Oh. Forgive me, continue."

Hal screamed as he was pierced from all sides by the spikes. His radiation poured through his body, just keeping him conscious. . .

You [censored], the Phantasm said, hurtling towards Sunako. Rays of light poured from its hands like rain as it flew at the ninja. You are SO dead!

Hallucinogen approached Kaloaten and Kairashi nervously. He had never met these two before. . .

And then Moonscribe appeared out of thin air.

"Ah yes, hello," he said, addressing Kairashi. "Fletcher Trudeau, or more accurately the oni who possesses him. My greetings to you."

". . . What?" said Hal. "Moonscribe, do you know this guy?"

Moonscribe frowned. "Come to think of it. . . no. I have never seen him before in my life."

Hal facepalmed with an exasperated sigh.

"My apologies," Moonscribe continued, inclining his head. "It is so difficult sometimes to remember what it is that I know. Hello, Pharaoh. I have no idea who you are."

((I do hope all that is accurate. ))

"Ah. . .yes. . .I'll talk to you later," Hal said, dashing through the gate and into the mansion.

"A pleasure, Priestess, Pharaoh, Priestess, Pharaoh, Pharaoh, Pharaoh, Priestess, Pharaoh. . ." the hero heard behind him, as Moonscribe began his own greeting.

Hal ran into the room where Kairashi and his ningyo were, brushing the dust off his feet and wishing he wore shoes. He didn't usually even enter people's homes. . . he lived quite literally inside his own mind, and it cleaned itself quite nicely.

((And yes, he DOES bathe, brush his teeth, etc. If anyone was wondering. The inside of his mind is nicely furnished. :P))

((For crying out loud, Essex, the answer is obvious. Tears in the fabric of the spacetime flow. Sheesh. ))

"What on earth are those creatures?" Reginald said, readying his bow. "You all seem to recognize them."

"Oh, those are. . . Oops!" the Oracle began, quickly covering her mouth at the "Oops".

Reginald sighed. "Oracle! They're probably going to tell me in a second, why can't you?"

"It's the principle of the thing!" the Oracle said irritably. "And can't you call me Ruth? It's my name!"

"Essex!" Hallucinogen said, and the light from his Phantasm seemed to double in strength. The being of light flew in front of her and Ian.

". . . Control yourself," Hal muttered to the Phantasm in his head. The last thing he wanted was for it to say something, ah, inappropriate now.

Hello, Miss Essex. I shall be thy personal dispenser of whoop-[censored].

Hal slapped his head as he hit Sunako with a burst of his radiation, trying to convince the ninja that he was mortally wounded. At least it wasn't something suggestive, but man was that a lame line.

In front of the mansion gate, green smoke burst into view. A figure only three and a half feet tall stood there, covered by a green haze that was slightly dizzying to look at at first, with a gas mask and wild yellow hair just visible through the smoke.

"I suppose this is the place," Hallucinogen said.

And then all of a sudden, two points in space abruptly traded places. Essentially, if the universe was written out in programming code, someone had just cut and pasted themselves to a new location. And indeed, the tall, thin young man in a blue robe and glasses that subsequently appeared seemed to have been typing a second ago, although no keyboard was visible.

"Ah yes, hello, Pharaoh," Moonscribe said upon seeing Hallucinogen. Light was shining off his glasses so that his eyes were hidden, but truth be told, light shone off them at all times. Even if there WAS no light.

Hal turned to him. "Why are you here? Look, I appreciate your skills as a hero and whatnot, but to be blunt, I really don't enjoy your company."

"I have received an invitation," Moonscribe returned. "Much like the one you received, Pharaoh. A 'social experiment'."

"Why are you interested in this anyway?" Hal muttered. "You're not very social."

"At least I am not coming solely because I think Essex might have received an invitation," said Moonscribe calmly. "Shameful."

Hal was silent for a moment. That was the worst thing about Moonscribe. He was usually speaking the truth.

Trying to convince himself that there WERE other reasons he was here, Hal turned to the others.

"Oh, Essex! Ah. . .did you hear what. . ." He blushed furiously.

((Everyone. She's a little hologram that appears from the stone tablet he carries on his back.))

"And you," Percy returned as Penny got off.

The elevator came to the third floor, and Percy walked calmly to the programming department, a long, neat, tidy series of identical cubicles stretching down the hall.

And Percy stepped into his own. It was not the first cubicle, or the last, or marked in any way. It was the seventh on the right. No one entering the department would ever guess that he was the head of the department, or indeed that the department had a head at all.

Reginald chuckled at all this. "I have to say, old man," he said, turning to Hotaka, "I really do not trust you. But, as I can hardly prove anything at the time being, I suppose I will have to accept your assistance. . ."

The Oracle opened her mouth, and then shut it tightly.

"What?" Reginald said irritably. "You know something, don't you? About this old man and his motives? Can't you just tell me?"

"I have told you," the Oracle replied. "Telling you the future. . ."

"Changes it, okay, enough already!" Reginald sighed.

"Yes, the cold is truly terrible," Percy replied, taking the cookies and not sounding like he cared remotely about the local temperature. "And my thanks, madam. I am sure I will enjoy these." Percy knew Penny's name perfectly well, but he always called people "sir" and "madam" unless they specifically objected. Many people thought that he did this so he did not forget anyone's name, having never used it in the first place. This was closer to the truth than Percy would like to admit.

Percy frowned to himself. Now he felt ungrateful. . . he had not gotten presents for her or anyone. Quite honestly, he had forgotten all about Christmas. How very embarassing.