Khellendrosiic

OOC: This one's a biggun.

BIC: “You want me to what?” CptCommie incredulously said as he looked over at Toy from his sprawl on the couch.

“I want you to get me into Siberia,” Toy repeated. “I’ve got a contract that calls for my being there and normal avenues of travel are closed to me.”

“I told you you shouldn’t have gotten involved so closely with Arachnos,” Commie said as he swung his legs up off the armrest so that his feet were firmly on the ground. With the hand holding the remote, Commie flicked off the TV that was displaying the newest technological gadgets available to the public; nothing new, in other words.

“Yeah, yeah,” Toy sighed as he slumped down in a chair set at a right angle to the couch. “But the rewards beat out the risks, in my opinion.”

“The potential rewards you mean,” Commie said, jabbing his finger at Toy. “And besides, if you want me to help, you’ll need something better than just saying it’s in your contract.”

“Would the fact that I’d be fighting the Malta pique your interest at all?”

Under his scarf, Commie frowned.

“Malta in Siberia, huh?” he mused. “I suppose that would explain something.”

“Explain what?”

“You know I’ve got my own operation in Siberia, yes?”

“Yeah, that’s sort of why I asked you for this favor in the first place. What about it?”

“Well, one of my cargo planes has gone missing. But before it went incommunicado, one of the pilots managed to broadcast an SOS. Specifically the one that warns of a possible highjacking.”

“And you think the Malta stole your plane?”

“It makes sense. The supplies on that plane would be enough to keep a sizable group of men equipped, supplied, and fed for at least three weeks. And from what I’ve studied, the Malta and I use similar weapons and tactics, so their stealing my plane is not out of the question.”

“So will you help?”

“Under the condition that I take possession of sixty percent of the salvage.”

“Agreed,” said Toy as he stood up and held out his hand.

Commie stood and took Toy’s hand, giving it a firm shake. The Communist then grinned under his scarf and grabbed his Colonel’s hat from the other side of the couch.

“You do know that for anybody else I’d be charging at least eighty percent,” he said in a joking tone.

“I figured as much,” Toy replied in the same tone. “When can we leave?”

“Right now,” Commie said. “I was actually going to leave and check things out for myself in a little bit but I can speed things up some. My plane is down at Haven’s airport.”

“Gotcha. Let’s roll.”

************************************************** ***
“It’s a concealed airfield all right, sir,” one of the pilot’s shouted back into the cargo hold of the massive military grade cargo plane. “One of the scout planes from the base buzzed it and didn’t get shot down, so I think I can bring you all in safely.”

“Good,” Commie shouted back as he checked his parachute harness. “But I think we should avoid any traps that the Malta might have laid. Bring us around for a low altitude drop.”

“Yes, sir!” replied the pilot and the plane banked as it ponderously came around in a wide u-turn.

“Check your partner’s equipment, men,” Commie called out unnecessarily as his eight conscripts began tightening parachute harnesses and making sure everything was secure.

“We’re good to go, sir,” Commisar Semenov said with a salute.

“Are you ready, Toy?” Commie shouted to the other side of the cargo hold.

Toy and his robots were arrayed in a line pointing toward the as yet unopened doors with Combat Toy first, the protectors bots after, and then the drones and Toy last. The multi-colored mastermind gave his ally a thumbs up as magnetically charged boots kept him and his bots from moving when the plane banked.

“You sure you want to do this, though?” Toy asked. “Parachuting down in the middle of a blizzard, even a small one, is kind of stupid.”

“Nothing we haven’t done before,” Commie replied. “After all, we all trained up here.”

“Your funeral,” Toy shrugged and cast his sensors over their entire group again.

Combat Toy and the rest of his robots were ready to go, that was easy to tell. Their load-out was effective in all situations and so Toy hadn’t switched any equipment out this time. He had, however, given Combat Toy a different type of fuel for its flamethrower that would still work at such low temperatures. Over on the other side, Commie’s squad was much more diversely equipped. Eight of the stubborn commander’s conscripts filled the bulk of his force, each one of them carrying weapons suitable for close ranged combat. Three of them carried automatic shotguns and door breaching charges and a fourth carried a rocket launcher in addition to the standard pistol that they all carried. The remaining conscripts carried AK-103s, a more advanced version of the bread and butter AK-47, which came with an optional grenade launcher attachment. All four soldiers chose to take that option.

Commisar Semenov carried his own custom rifle, a mix of standard techniques and new technologies. It could fire a single round, triple burst, and limited automatic fire. It could also function as a sniper rifle if the need arose. And just in case that wasn’t enough, he carried a bandolier of stun and gas grenades and a pair of Desert Eagles with several clips of specialized ammo. For his part, Commie came loaded for bear as well, with a pumped up version of the AK-103 that Toy himself had collaborated on in improving. It could operate at semi-automatic or full auto and could fire up to three grenades at one time. Commie also carried a backpack that contained, among other things, plenty of extra ammo and an emergency health dispenser, a bit of tech that Commie had found in a Crey lab one day and decided to keep.

“Doors opening in 3!” the pilot suddenly shouted over the intercom. “2…1…Doors opening!”

The cargo bay door groaned and shook as it slid open, letting in a flurry of snow that quickly melted when it touched the bodies of the men and robots. Just outside the door was now a swirling maelstrom of white, a blizzard that only the Antarctic regions could beat out for sheer ferocity. Toy quickly panned over to look at Commie and waved his arms.

“You told me it was going to be a small storm!” the mastermind shouted. “This is like a freaking hurricane out there!”

Commie shrugged and flicked on his radio.

“Team, this is Russia Green Actual. We are good to jump,” he said.

Toy sighed and opened up his own radio link to reply.

“Russia Green, this is Mechanic Actual. My guys are good to go. And have I mentioned that this stuff is really unnecessary?”

“Multiple times, Mechanic,” Commie sighed. “But as I’ve said, the Malta are good at countering typical super tactics.”

“I think someone just wants to have him some fun,” Toy huffed and then waved his hand. “Mechanic Team, jumping.”

“Boo ya!” Combat Toy shouted as it charged forward and jumped spread eagled into the white blankness.

The protectors bots and battle drones jumped out silently as Commie’s conscripts and Commisar followed. Soon, just Toy Dispenser and CptCommie were left in the cargo hold. Toy tossed Commie a sarcastic salute and took a step out into the void.

************************************************** ********

“Thar she blows. Looks like a pair of Arachnos Fliers, recently deceased,” shouted Toy over the radio, the only way his team could hear him over the roar of the storm. “Their thermal signatures are low but unmistakable.”

“Good!” Commie shouted back from where the two commanders were prone in the snow. “Yuri reports that the perimeter defenses have been disabled near hose Fliers, so we can assume that that is where the Arachnos forces made their entrance.”

“And I doubt they’d expect a second attack from the exact same location,” Toy said as he waved his bots forward. “So let’s go introduce ourselves.”

“Roger that,” Commie said as he got up into a crouch and started hoofing his way to the entrance.

The rest of his men followed the same procedure while Toy Dispenser and crew just ran forward, trusting in the snow to muffle the sounds of their normally overly clanky approach.

Within a minute, the two teams were on either side of a large hole blasted into what appeared to have been a heavily armored door. From deep within the compound could be heard the sounds of gunfire and the occasional explosion. Toy looked over at Commie and the commander signaled that he would go in first. Toy responded with a hand signal to show that he couldn’t detect anything inside.

By the numbers, two of the conscripts charged into the hole, moving quickly to avoid being shot, and slammed against the opposite wall with their shoulders, guns tracking for targets. Finding none, they waved everyone else in. The conscripts deployed with the robots at their center, Toy’s force would provide the bulk of the supporting fire when combat came. As one, the group headed down to the left, following a trail of char marks on the wall and the occasional dead Arachnos solider.

“The Malta put up a tough fight,” Toy said over a private comm. to Commie. “To have so few casualties compared to the Arachnos is impressive.”

“More likely they’ve mostly won,” Commie replied, sub-vocally speaking on his radio with Toy. “The bodies we’ve passed look like they’ve been moved from their original positions and the Malta keep up the standard tradition of not leaving your men behind, dead or alive.”

“True,” Toy conceded, giving one of the bodies they passed another scan. Indeed, the floor around the body was scuffed and scraped in the pattern of the Wolf Spider’s back armor. He had been moved.

“You do know this means a tough fight?” Toy asked.

“I’ve wanted to try my hand against the Malta for a while now,” Commie replied. “We seem to have more or less the same training and-“

“Contact,” hissed one of the conscripts on point guard as he scuttled back. “Maltan patrol incoming. I count one robot and four men, one of them had a nasty looking rifle.”

“A Hercules titan and at least one Sapper,” Toy said. “They must still be nervous. Captain?”

The group was currently in an open passageway with little or no cover, the only way to catch the Maltans by surprise would be to charge them silently and take them down efficiently as possible. Of course, this was something CptCommie excelled at. Toy Dispenser, on the other hand, was much more one for the frontal approach.

Waving his men forward with the rocketeer in the lead, Commie and his squad advanced quickly and silently as Toy and his bots moved forward slowly, taking their time to avoid making noise. As the soldiers moved up, they could hear the grinding thump of the Hercules titan and the soft mutter of voices speaking to one another, broken occasionally by a low pitched mechanical voice.

Satisfied that he had remained undetected so far, Commie had his men take up position at the corner. The shotgunners were placed in front, the machine gunners behind them, and finally the rocketeer and CptCommie in the rear. He had done the best he could do with the resources available at hand and Toy watched with interest as the Maltan patrol came around the corner, unsuspecting.

Normally when two groups ran into one another, there would be a short pause of shock before each man went for his guns. In this case, only the Maltans froze, giving Commie’s men just the edge they needed.

The Sapper went down first, cut almost in two by two shotgun blasts coverging on his torso. The two TacOps followed next, lines stitched into and through their advanced Kevlar armor by Commie’s men. The Hercules got off one shot with its plasma cannon, which dug into the ceiling, before its right side was blasted to bits by a rocket. The cyborg whirred loudly and then collapsed, fluid leaking out of its braincase from where shrapnel had perforated it.

“Move move move!” Commie shouted now that their cover was blown. “They know we’re here now so let’s get the survivors and get out of here!”

“Roger that!” Toy replied as he broke into a run, his bots thudding behind him like the beat to a particularly crazy song. “Let me take the vanguard now.”

“Roger,” Commie replied as his men drifted back and then formed up behind the charging robots. “Just try to not get yourself blown to pieces.”

“I think I can manage that,” Toy said back, turning his head to speak to Commie and thus missing the quartet of Malta that charged out of a side corridor.

It was a toss up on who fired first, but the air was quickly filled with yellow tracer rounds and the burning after image of laser blasts scorching the air. Bullets pinged off of and dug into Combat Toy’s armor, the big machine being the logical target, as lasers dug into one of the TacOps Engineers, tossing the big man to the ground in a smoking heap.

The robots spread out just as a TacOps fired a grenade, catching Small Toy in the chest and blowing the robot back, opening a gap in the line of metallic bodies for Commisar Semanov to step forward and punch a bullet through the offending guerilla’s head, killing him instantly. A pair of photon grenades joined a trio of the standard kind being lobbed over the heads of the bots to blow the remaining two enemies to kingdom come and then the rescue force was off again, repairing on the fly.

The sounds of gunfire got louder as they raced down the long corridor, as did the distinctive sound of thumping footsteps coming from the off-set door up ahead. Perhaps overanxious to win favor from his commander and without a proper respect for the Maltas’ capabilities, one of Commie’s men sprinted forward; bringing up his rifle and firing a grenade at something behind the door. There was a loud whirring noise and then a bright flash, followed by a wet thump as the conscripts lower body hit the floor, his torso completely vaporized.

Then the wall shattered as the massive Zeus titan, barely fitting into the corridor, bulled forward in its mission to destroy all intruders. The machine spent a moment scanning its targets, a moment that the attackers didn’t waste, diving to one side or another or opening fire. Missiles washed over the Titan’s upper torso, almost throwing it off balance. But the war machine recovered and brought one arm up in an uppercut, ignoring the bullets and lasers that plinked away at its armor. Combat Toy caught the limb full on, its front armor crumpling as it was knocked up into the air and back, almost landing on top of Semanov.

In retaliation, Toy threw his hands forward, blasting the Titan with a powerful bolt of force that knocked it back against the wall with a groan of protesting hydraulics. Then a trio of grenades blasted away at its leg as Commie joined the attack, ordering his men to stop wasting ammo and blast it to pieces. They complied and the Titan was soon battered by a wave of grenades and high explosive missiles, losing one arm and a significant chunk of its left side. But the Zeus was built to last and opened fire once more with its own missiles barrage, blowing the corridor to hell and knocking the combatants to and fro.

Mini Bot went down, its left leg snapped off at the hip, as did Semanov when a wave of concussive force knocked him headfirst into the wall. But even this was not enough to save the Titan as Combat Toy regained its footing and blasted it with a wave of inferno missiles, followed closely by another tank-buster missile. This time the Zeus went down, belching smoke from the gaping hole in its chest.

Activating the health dispenser that he had, Commie shot bursts of healing nanites into Semanov and his other men, healing them of the worst of their wounds. Large Toy and Block Bot managed to get Mini Bot’s leg reattatched and then the group was off again.

“The sap rifles! They do nothing!” shouted some unlucky Maltan from around the corner, followed by a guttural roar of anger and the body of an even more unlucky Sapper slammed into the wall in front of the group.

“Wretch mad! Wretch not like stupid blue men!” came a shout from the same direction as before.

“I think we found our man,” Toy said unnecessarily as he rolled his wrists and started dropping protective shields on everyone. “One last rush and then we should be good.”

“Yes,” Commie agreed as he slotted a new clip into his rifle with a snap. “Let’s go.”

Once again as one, the group wheeled around the corner and beheld a quite amazing sight. In the large, empty room that lay before him was a small group of figures. About 90% of them were Malta and the other 10% were dead, except for the one giant brute of a man currently crushing a Hercules Titan into scrap metal while being shocked by no less than four Sappers. The Wretch roared and hurled the remains of the Titan at one of the sappers, who managed to dodge narrowly, almost as though he expected the brute to do that. All of the Malta were too busy trying to incapacitate the supervillain to notice the group of soldiers at their rear.

“I love lack of communication,” Toy said as his bots deployed into a skirmish line.

“Same,” Commie grinned right back as his men joined the robots, taking careful aim so as not to waste their first volley.

Stepping forward, Toy raised up his hand and held it there, waiting for Wretch to notice them as the brute was looking directly in their direction. And notice them he did, the brute hastily threw himself to the ground, proving that he wasn’t as stupid as other people thought he was. As the Malta were trying to figure out what was going on, Toy chopped his hand down.

The first volley of missiles, lasers, and grenades, cut down almost half of the Maltans, leaving the rest to duck and dive for cover as best as possible. And now the firing line broke up, each person moving a different way and opening fire on the Maltans. It was turning into an old fashioned firefight as men popped up from behind one of the metal crates strewn about the room, fired, and then ducked down again. But the problem with an old fashioned firefight is that it didn’t take into account robots or angry mutants with super strength.

The Malta found themselves being assaulted from behind by their target just as surely as they were being shot at my Commie’s men. Then they came under assault from above, as Combat Toy, Mini Bot, and Small Toy used their foot jets to jump up into the rafters above and rain fire onto the Malta from there. Thrown into disarray and utterly demoralized from their failure to capture the Wretch, the Maltans went down fast and hard, the only trouble being a Gunslinger who teleported once the first volley was over and drop kicked Toy Dispenser to the ground.

The cowboy quickly unslung his pistols and aimed at the mastermind but fell back as Commie pumped a slug into his body armor. The Gunslinger teleported again and then fell back with a broken nose as Commie lashed out behind him with the butt of his gun, predicting where the soldier would appear. The man teleported again, this time appearing on top of a crate, both pistols firing at the Captain. Commie ran, sparks flying up all around him, until he could dive behind a crate and take cover.

Then it was the Gunslinger’s turn to run for cover as Toy Dispenser kneeled and blasted a laser bolt right through his teleporter, removing his primary advantage. Cursing and weaving to avoid Toy’s vengeful laser blasts, the Gunslinger ducked behind a crate and then popped out, blasting away at where Toy had been. As soon as he revealed himself, Commie rolled out from behind his crate and unloaded on the Gunslinger, who was exposed from Commie’s position. The Maltan jerked and twitched as the slugs penetrated his armor and ultimately collapsed like an unstrung puppet, dead.

“Wretch thank you lots,” the Wretch said as he walked up to Toy and Commie, his misshapen face twisted into a grin. “Wretch know Ghost Widow send help.”

“Actually,” Toy said as he walked over to the brute. “I’m sure she would have, but we came by order of Scirocco.”

“Wind Man?” the Wretch asked, puzzled. “Wind Man help Wretch?”

“Effectively, yes,” Toy said. “Now why don’t we get out of here. I have a feeling the Malta won’t let you get away so easily.”

“Wretch crush puny blue men!” the Wretch roared, beating his chest.

“I’m sure you will,” Commie spoke up. “But let’s go anyway. The less casualties, the better.”

As the group reformed, now joined by the Wretch, Toy clapped Commie on the back.

“We rock,” he said, as the group moved out.

"Riiiight," Solid said, tilting his head to look at Essex cryptically through his targeting eye.

"Ok then, rules," Solid said, showing his hand to Essex. "Ok, see my cards? I've got two of a kind, see? Two fives. A two of a kind is the easiest thing you can get in poker but also the easiest beaten. You can also get three or four of a kind, which can beat other hands. So let's see yours."

"They were demons," Archlich said. "Demons trained in ninjutsu, to be exact."

The lich folded his arms and tried to restrain his impatience. If this detective detained them any longer, he would probably just put him out of his misery.

"I don't think I've said it before, but always worrying is bad for your health," Solid said as he dealt Essex five cards and then another five for himself. "And how did the Canasta teaching go bad?"

Looking at his hand, a five of clubs, a two of spades, a queen of clubs, a five of hearts, and an eight of diamonds, Solid sighed.

"I always have cruddy first hands."

OOC: I'm still sleepy! Yay! Bloody college metabolism. >_>

BIC: "Bah!" Solid scoffed as he sat down opposite Essex and slid open a tray that was set into the bottom of the table. "I've got a couple of buddies that will 'rescue' us from the Council base. After that you can go back home and lecture Dr. West for not coming to your rescue fast enough or something."

After half a minute of searching through the drawer, Solid finally pulled out a much battered and worn deck of cards and plopped them on the table.

"And after our little psychotherapy session earlier today, I'd think you'd want a break from worrying about stuff, at least for an hour," he said and then started shuffling the cards, flipping them back and forth between his hands like a pro dealer. "You ever learn how to play poker?"

OOC: -_-;;;

OOC: Only for me and Essex and just for fun. It'll be short too. I'm just sleepy and want to do something because tonight's events were just too funny! Everyone else is free to comment from the peanut gallery, though, and I'm sure Hal will show up at one point.

BIC: In one of the less well-kept apartment buildings located somewhere between Steel Canyon and King's Row, lived a hero. The apartment he rented was small, but cozy, and relatively well-kept compared to the rest of the building. It consisted of a well fortified front door and steel wall that the hero had had emplaced, a main living/sleeping room, a bathroom, and a small kitchen. The total amount of furniture that wasn't technological in some way was a table, four chairs, a refridgerator, and the toilet.

The bulk of the living room was taken up by what looked like an examination table, complete with fold-out screens that could display a variety of information and powerful lights on long and flexible arms. Attatched to the table was a large number of wires running from a small, humming device that was built into the wall and glowed blue along its grilled body. This device was actually the source of most of the light, though there was a ceiling lamp installed above the table. It just didn't have a lightbulb in it at the moment.

Where the kitchen should have been were one lonely fridge and several tower computers connected to several monitors that were placed on the desk that the towers were under and above the desk. Either one of the two screens could double as an HD TV given the need, which was fairly frequent.

Behind the exam table/bed was a pile of machinery that looked to serve no actual purpose aside from beeping, glowing red, and occasionally printing something out of its side. The table that served as the focus of the room looked pretty cheap, made as it was out of recycled metals and had one leg propped up by a charred bit of metal. The chairs were all sturdy oak designs, able to hold up to almost a ton of steel and machinary sitting on them. Indeed this apartment was planned for one, designed by one, and used by one.

"Gah!"

Which didn't keep him from bringing home guests.

"Calm down, Essex," Solid Shot said placatingly as it held a spider-like robot in the palm of its hand.

Solid Shot, android, blaster, utterly fugging nuts, and resident since the Rikti War. The flat grey robot looked like he could have been made in a factory somewhere in China were it not for the cape, the black lightning symbols down his sides, and the electricity coursing up and down his arms. Currently, his cyclopix targeting eye was focused on his guest as she cowered in a corner of his room, afraid to come down.

"It's ok, Ess," he repeated. "My fixer bots just look like spiders. They don't bite, they don't spin webs, they just fix me up after I've got an arm shot off and I can't do it myself."

Up hovering in the corner of the room, Essex, or Reploid S6 if you insisted, was cowering in fear at the sight of the arachnid bot. Upon reactivation after lugging her here from Dark Astoria, she had seen the fixer bot, screamed, and flew up into the corner. Solid had almost beat his head against the wall after that. He had forgotten the pink android was afraid of spiders. And the scared little girl kind of afraid too.

"Look, I'll just have them go away," Solid said and set the fixer bot down. The little drone waggled its eye stalks at its master disprovingly before scuttling into the pile of machinery and vanishing.

"So, then, what say you come down and we do something fun. We've got at least an hour before Dr. West realizes we're not actually being held captive by the Council."

OOC: Hehe. I'm so sleepy right now.

[ QUOTE ]
R0CK-0N's scythe-like arm smashed into Wielder's chest, shattering several chunks of ice and leaving a long scrape in the metal.

"THE FORCES OF EVIL SHALL NEVER TRIUMPH!" Wielder shouted as he furiously beat on the Tank's head with his mace. "FOR THE MIGHTY FLAME THAT IS GOODNESS SHALL CONSUME THE RICKETY SHANTY THAT IS EVIL!"

[/ QUOTE ]

OOC: Ahem.

Which is kind of the reason I picked it too.

Ok, I know I should make another guy, but I felt like making a character in-game. Thus....

Progenitor Runtime 2!

He's a bots/poison mastermind on Virtue now. Poison because robots are immune to the stuff but humans certainly aren't.

OOC: Sorry. Been overcome with the amount of postage I have going on and this must have fallen through the cracks. Uh...Where was Archie last?

R0CK-0N's scythe-like arm smashed into Wielder's chest, shattering several chunks of ice and leaving a long scrape in the metal.

"THE FORCES OF EVIL SHALL NEVER TRIUMPH!" Wielder shouted as he furiously beat on the Tank's head with his mace. "FOR THE MIGHTY FLAME THAT IS GOODNESS SHALL CONSUME THE RICKETY SHANTY THAT IS EVIL!"

Anyway, something regarding Toy's bots.

Some people might be wondering why I refer to Toy Dispenser as 'he' while his bots are firmly 'it'. I shall need to reference a part of Toy's history for this.

Toy Dispenser gained his sentience after completely rebuilding his system after a virus wrecked 50% of it. After a while, Toy became interested in learning how other robots gained their sentience. He has collected quite a few tales and files ranging from the mundane to the esoteric. Using this information, he tried to make each of his own robots sentient in turn. Unforetunately, he never entirely succeeded in any case. As such, while each bot has quite a varied personality and will respond to things in unique ways they cannot change their personalities over time. In 100 years, Mini Bot will still be as naive and child-like as it is now, although it might be a bit crazier, but that's another story. The personalities break down as such:

Mini Bot: Child-like, naive, more than slightly crazy
Toy Bot: Endlessly logical, the most robot-like
Small Toy: Quiet
Large Toy: Professional
Block Bot: Depressed
Combat Toy: Gung-ho 'shoot first ask questions later'

None of them will become something else unless Toy completely erases their systems and starts over. And considering his success rate, Toy would rather just leave them be.

Now, Toy is a 'he' because his personality is male and because it will change over time and with experiences. His robots are 'it's because they are effectively frozen in time, behavior wise. However, everyone I write who speaks of a bot will refer to them as 'he' because people don't like saying 'it' all the time.

[ QUOTE ]
Great song, I like it. It really does sound like it's written for Hal & Essex.

And as for the band... *silly boy giggle*

That puts a great image in my head of Rosie singing, with Archlich on guitar and Ghoul on bass, Kreigg doing drums while Toy gets the keyboards.... with all the bots dancing in the background.

EDIT: And Leeni can be the manager.

[/ QUOTE ]

YES! Although I'd put Toy on the guitar and Archlich on the keyboard. But that's just me.

"EXCELLENT!" Wielder shouted before stepping forward and braining R0CK-0N on the head with the Painpipe. "THE FORCES OF EVIL ARE YET AGAIN NO MATCH FOR THE PARAGONS OF VIRTUE!"

Too bad we're on different servers. ;_;

Blar! Back on topic!

If you couldn't guess, Solid Shot and Toy Dispenser are effectively copies of me if I could be what they are. Complete with personality and the way they make fun of everything. I really like the way they make fun of everything comic booky while being super beings themselves.

Also, Toy Dispenser was originally titled as the Toy Box, but that name was already taken once Beta ended and I tried to make him. One of my friends found the person who had taken the name Toy Box a long time ago, but I'm happy with Toy as he is now.

"THANK YOU FOR YOUR ASSITANCE!" Wielder shouted at Rad Spike as the Noise Tank's swipe missed by a mile. "BUT I AM NOT AS DEFENSELESS AS I APPEAR!"

Throwing his arms back, a sheet of crackling ice enshrouded his form, causing one hammer arm to slide helplessly off, dealing no damage what-so-ever. Wielder retaliated with an uppercut to the Smasher's chin, rocketing him up into the air, and then punched the Freak as he came back down, knocking him into the wall next to the other Freak from before.

"GOOD CAN NOT BE DEFEATED!" he shouted before spinning rapidly around, knocking back many of the Freaks with a smash from the Painpipe.

Archlich reached out one hand, grabbed Blightlord by his head, and turned him around to face the costume trunk.

"Go. Play. Have fun," he said in a voice that brooked no arguement. "You may have your equipment back tomorrow, after the girl is gone. I will even help you try to find a way out of that child's body if you wish. But do not even think about injuring or killing one of my charges."

Giving the hovering Blightlord a little helpful shove in the direction of the costume trunk, Archlich waved his hand to cancel out Moonscribe's keyboard and twisted the enchantments in the house to dissapate rainwater. Then he turned to face the newcomer and quickly plucked the squirtgun from her hands.

"You'll get this back later," he said before gesturing for her to come inside. "Officers, thank you for your time."

************************************************

"All youse babies are stoopid!" Ghoul said indignantly as he dove into the costume trunk and started rumaging around. After a few moments, Ghoul popped back up wearing a sophisticated looking pinstripe suit, a pair of sunglasses, and a lollypop in his mouth.

"Ghoul is da guard," Ghoul said, jumping out of the trunk and picking up Diamond. "And you've been bounced!"

Ghoul tossed Diamond up into the air where she landed back in the costume trunk. Meanwhile, Ghoul was doing the moonwalk.

"Imma ashtronaut!" Toy shouted as he came out of the trunk with a big transparent bubble on his head. "And I gots aliens!"

Behind him, his toy robots came out dressed as the little green alien toys from Toy Story and stood behind their boss, grumbling.

"YOU CANNOT DEFEAT THE PAINPIPE WITH MERE SOUND!" Wielder shouted over the noise as slowing waves of cold started emanating from his body. "FOR SOUND IS A TOOL OF GOOD AND AS SUCH CANNOT BE UTILIZED PROPERLY BY THE FORCES OF EVIL!"

Lunging forward despite the air resistance from the sound wave and the crackling bolts of electricity dancing around on his armor, Wielder brought the Painpipe around for a smash at the Noise Tank's side.

OOC: IN the almighty words of some person or other, "Let's get it on!" Also, Devious, I hate you. I wanna make a story thread next. As soon as the rest of them finish up. >_> I, for one, am kind of stretched as it is.

BIC: "VILE VILLAINS!" boomed a loud voice from behind the Noise Tank. "REFRAIN FROM YOUR EVIL-DOING OR FACE A SOUND THRASHING!"

Turning around slowly, almost as though he couldn't believe a hero was stupid enough to walk up behind a group of Freakshow and then yell at them, the Noise Tank beheld the armored form of...

"I AM THE WIELDER OF THE PAINPIPE!" the silver and red, spikey armored figure shouted. He was also quite tall. "AND IT IS MY DUTY AS A DOER OF GOOD TO PUNISH ALL PERPETRATORS OF EVIL!"

Brandishing a long, ribbed lead pipe, Wielder stepped forward and bashed the nearest Freak in the ribs, knocking him back about twenty feet into a brick wall.

OOC: You asked for it. ^_^

Great, now I have to join this discussion. However....what can I say?

Well, let's start with good old Ghoulie. The Ghoulmeister originated from my brother, who wanted to make a brute in CoV. Since his screen name has always been Noxious Ghoul, he likes the undead as much as I do, and he asked me for help making his new brute, Brutish Ghoul was born.

He wanted a zombie that could take hits and beat crap up, so we decided on Invulnerability and, after a length discussion, Dark melee because it seemed awesome. Then we got onto the costume and the origin. Since we already had lots of Tech and Magic oriented people, we decided on Science just for the hell of it. I then expanded Ghoul's storyline because I was bored and had the time.

Originally, Ghoul had those bio-thingie pants but seeing Essex draw him with normal pants made me decide that they looked better.

Anyway, enough of me talking. Let's talk about someone else.

I really like doing robots.

Affiliation: Clockwork
Name: Rusty Gear
Unit Type: Assembler Prince
AT: Robotics/Electric Blast Mastermind
Height: 6' 0"
Age: 6 months
Chasis: Standard Clockwork haphazard design. Only difference is the prevalence of rust coating the entire body.

Bio: Every system has its flaws and quirks and the Clockwork King's court is no exception. While every single Clockwork is actually a shell animated by the Clockwork King's will, it is not impossible for the bit of power invested in each Clockwork to get cozy and decide to branch off from the main source. Rusty Gear is currently the only example of this that is known to the heroes of Paragon.

When this new Assembler Prince was animated and given its goal of creating ever more minions, the Prince discovered that it could decide not to do this. It instantly knew why, the part of it that was the King having access to all of his memories, and thought that independance wasn't such a bad thing. It also discovered that any minion created in its own miniature processing plant owned their alleigance to it and not the King. This led to the forming of a plan in Gear's head and for the whole time since its construction, it has been working on building up its private army. Rusty Gear hopes one day to have a force strong enough to challenge the Clockwork King and eliminate him. To this end, Gear is willing to purchase the use of villains through money gleaned from what appeared to be normal Clockwork scavenging and even request the aid of heroes, posing as the only free member of the Clockwork King's court, which is true, who wishes to be free, which is also true, but it could only be free if a certain part of the King was removed, which was untrue. So far, no heroes have fallen for it and villains are reluctant at best to listen to a member of the mindless Clockwork. But Rusty Gear will win through and when he does Paragon City will forget the name of the Clockwork King in return for a new threat.

Synopsis: Rusty Gear is manipulative, ruthless, and pretty damn smart. Its only problem is the need to lay low and avoid the Clockwork King's attention because at this point, it and its rebels would be easily destroyed. Gear has no qualms about using any trick up its sleeve to weaken the loyalist Clockwork and will even divulge secrets of the King's court to those who will aid it.

Skill Set - Robotics: Unlike normal robot masterminds, Rusty Gear controls a small group of Clockwork. A Cannon Prince named Smoothbore serves at its lieutenant while several knights and cogs serve as bodyguards. Instead of Repair, Gear may create five small Gears or a couple of Sprockets that will attack any enemies nearby.


Note: I'm not taking requests any more. I think they ruin my creative process.

"What Brainy said," Ghoul said as he followed behind Rosie. "Ghoul says we meet in da boy's room. None ah us would suck up tah Archie. Cept maybe Toy."

"Another one?" Archlich asked incredulously. "Why can't all these children be properly spaced out. It's like we just opened our doors this morning."

But despite his complaints, Archlich still grabbed a form from the table and approached the two guards.

"One of you has to fill out this information before we can take him," he said. "Unless, that is, his information was already faxed over."

"Nuffin we can do cept be quiet tonight," Ghoul whispered to Feliks. "Though I bet Archie'll have lots of trouble wit the new babies."