Khellendrosiic

Fighting to keep control of his flight with the sudden addition of another couple hundred pounds to his own not insignificant weight, Solid barreled into an open alleyway after he flew through the scattered ranks of the 'Bad Guy' soldiers. Curling up around the unconscious man, Solid performed a midair flip as he cut his thrusters and then re-engaged them once he was facing the other direction to cut his speed down dramatically. He still hit the ground a little hard though, skidding on his metallic behind for a couple of meters before coming to a stop. Muttered curses and statements regarding the Unteroffizier's mother and her relation with various animals filled the narrow alleyway as Solid covered the opening with one hand and withdrew a line of twine from a small slot in his left leg.

Swiftly tying the soldier up with the extremely strong plastic rope by his wrists and ankles, the former security bot also took a moment to rip off a stretch of exposed uniform and bind it around the man's mouth as a gag. Originally made to secure hostile intruders, these actions came as naturally to Solid as breathing would to a human.

He was just grabbing an old newspaper lying nearby and using it to wipe something green off his leg when the missile hit the portal and the white light expanded to encompass the entire world.

"Oh [censored]," Solid said as he watched the light come at him. "I hate it when I step into the Twilight Zone."

Shutting off his external sensors so that they didn't get blown out, he waited for several seconds before trickling a bit of power to them. 'Cracking his eyes open', so to speak. Seeing that the alleyway didn't seem very different, the android crept forward, blending into the shadows cast by the lights on the street in a manner most would not have expected from him, his dull grey coloration finally making some sort of sense.

"...wait. Wasn't it just day time?"

Finally poking his head out, Solid took a brief look around and quickly ducked back into the shadows with another curse, but this one a lot more quiet than before. He had seen those symbols before, but they had been gone for a long time now...

"God damnit. Just my luck this has to be the episode with Nazis in it. Next thing you know and there'll be zombies too."

PROOF!

Check that out, couple of paragraphs in. Miss Francine Primm.

*blink blink*

Wait wait wait... Mrs. Primm? As in the mother of Ms. Primm in the red-side arc?

...this story sounds cool, but that kind of coincidence just makes me beat my head on my desk.

*headdesk*

*headdesk*

Oh right, I completely forgot about this story...

<_<

>_>

<_<

I'll see about getting the next bit up after I'm done with all my various Halloween things. So late tonight or sometime tomorrow.

"Mother frakkin' rakkin' brakkin'," Solid muttered angrily as he looked back and forth between the soldiers and the pair of villains, trying to decide which ones he should open fire at.

Deciding to shoot everyone, Solid leapt off the roof he was on and jetted forward a bit, loading and firing a grenade a suitable distance in front of the fleeing villains so that they'd be comfortably in it's blast radius if they kept running in that direction.

Deactivating his thrusters for half a second Solid twisted himself around mid-fall, aimed directly at the Unterofficer, and hit his jets again, boosting forward to tackle the poor [censored] at about seventy miles per hour. Held in one hand, his assault rifle chattered out a flurry of rounds to keep down the heads of some of the other soldiers as he closed on his true target, left palm already sparking with paralyzing energies in case the sap put up a fight even after being hit by five hundred pounds of titanium.

I'd suggest a Broadsword scrapper (Power sword) or a Super Strength or Battle Axe tanker (Power fist or power axe) rather than an AR/dev. The build you're thinking of would fit an Imperial Guardsman a lot better than a Space Marine.

Space Marines have always struck me more as a 'Wade into battle and slay in the Emperor's name' type than a 'Blow the crud out of the enemy with guns and tricks' type.

And said above advice is good; just avoid naming your guy "Crimson Fist Marine" or "Space Marine" and you should be fine. You can put the Space Marine stuff in your little bio box and it'll all be good, I think.

[ QUOTE ]
Cat Girl - Brackish (formerly Snuggle Purr), now named after the Kittie breakout song.

[/ QUOTE ]

Aww. I liked the name Snuggle Purr. It was funny, matched her personality, and lead to some hilarious battle cries.

((Alright, advice taken. Used more pronouns, tried to describe everyone a bit more completely. I myself have been having trouble pinning down exactly what Cher'tak is feeling, but I think we'll get to that in a bit. Here's the next part.))

“So uh…” Williams began to ask, hesitating when Cher’tak swung his head in her direction, not changing stride in the slightest. “What exactly did you need my help for?”

“Require: Translation: Human glyphs,” he answered, giving the human woman another once over, noting how the long rifle slung on her back seemed almost as tall as she was. A perfect example of a Rikti soldier he was about eight feet in height and Williams barely came up to his chest. It was hard to imagine something so small being able to fight effectively, but he had seen it before.

Just the thought of all the heroes and soldiers he had killed saddened him again and he fell silent, not noticing the odd look the blonde trooper shot him as they finally came to a halt in front of the statue. He glanced down at her once they stopped to catch her reaction, both in a test of his abilities to read human faces and simply because he wanted to know how this young woman would respond. It seemed to work as Williams ignored him for a moment, simply staring at the statue with what appeared to be a far away look in her eyes. Her expression contorted briefly into a picture of sadness, an almost text-book example that Cher’tak had been taught by, before she mastered herself and regained a look of cool professionalism, no hint of the nervousness from before in her face or voice as she spoke to him.

“You want me to read the plaque to you?” she asked, green eyes looking all the way up at his for the first time. Wondering at this change in her, the Rikti simply nodded.

“Correct,” droned his translator, a sound as expressionless as his helmeted face and something that he had always hated. How could one prove oneself to not be a ‘faceless alien invader’ when one could not even display base emotion?

The woman nodded and turned to look down at the plaque, her ponytail twitching a bit at the motion and the sudden breeze that kicked up. Struck by the irrational desire to feel the wind on his skin and perhaps to dispel the faceless horror that he felt he must seem to her, Cher’tak traced a finger under his chin, down the front and back of his neck, and up the bottom of his crest, a seam appearing under his touch. Grasping either side of the helmet in his hands, he peeled the device off, a faint wet sucking sound accompanying the motion as the bio-lining complained about being removed. Pulling it completely off and running one dark red gauntlet over his slightly wet head, Cher’tak sighed again, but this time a bit happier as he smelled the fresh air, the pollutants easily ignorable.

It was then that he noticed Williams had been staring at him the whole time and that he had missed he recitation of the plaque, so quickly had it gone. Attaching his brighter red helmet to the small slot on his waist, Cher’tak cleared his throat in a small burst of static and unconsciously dragged a hand over the long scar on his crest before composing himself.

“Apologies extended,” he said. “Brief preoccupation: Concluded. Repeat translation: Please.”

Williams flicked a brief glance over Cher’tak’s exposed face, eyes drawn to the scar thanks to his hand motion and wondered what could have caused it before mentally kicking herself for thinking of this alien as a person, nodding in response to him before gesturing back at the plaque.

“It’s not much. Just reads ‘Cyrus Oliver Thompson. Heroes may die, but heroism never shall.’”

Duty discharged, Williams shuffled her feet intending to slip away back to the safety and comfort of her squad but stopped as the red armored Rikti held out a hand to her.

“Assistance: Still required,” he said, nodding toward the statue. “Lack information: Cyrus Oliver Thompson. No: Significance: Self. Ally Williams: Request: Supply information, significance.”

The trooper sighed unhappily, if very quietly, and moved to stand next to the Rikti again. She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow as she tried to remember what she could about Cyrus Thompson.

“First of all, call me Bethany or Beth, not ‘Ally Williams’,” she said impulsively, refusing to look up at the Rikti as she talked. “And second… I don’t know that much. It only happened a few years ago, but I was only sixteen at the time and was busier with boys then reading about some hero sob story on the news.”

Inwardly she winced at how harsh she sounded, but figured the alien wouldn’t understand it. Well, hopefully not, at least. Half-expecting some sort of irate reply that would send her scurrying back to the squad with her tail between her legs, Beth was a little surprised when the Rikti laughed. Or tried to.

“Very well: Human Beth,” Cher’tak said after his translator quit making the annoying spasming noises it considered a translation of laughter. “Self name: Cher’tak: Designation: Not needed, necessary: Current time: Simply: Ignorant alien: Holder of knowledge.”

Beth blinked up at Cher’tak who glanced down at her, confused green eyes meeting mirthful black ones before she looked away and huffed out a breath in exasperation. It was really hard to hate someone when they acted like such a person.


((It's kind of amusing when what is really a single narrative has such good 'chapter' breaks in it. Anyway, I'm a little unsure about what I did here, what with freely switching between Cher'tak and Beth's PoVs. This isn't something I originally intended to do, but I think I'm going to use this story both as a character building thing for Cher'tak and as kind of an introduction to Beth.

I don't have a Longbow character yet and I seem to have taken a liking to this girl, is all. ))

EDIT: On a complete and total side note, I'd like to thank the Halo 2 music for rocking and serving as the perfect inspiration music for this.

That's all. Blame my ADD meds for making me so talkative.

That works. Toy's the ego while Ghoul and Archlich are the arguing Super-ego and Id.

Solid cursed as the tank leapt into motion in defiance of the rocket that he had hoped would mess up it's control systems. But never being one to admit defeat Solid blasted off into the air and shot off over the buildings, flying parallel to the tank's course at the portal.

Pressing a button and cranking another switch, Solid switched to the OmniRifle's cyronic projector attatchment and took aim at the tracks on the tank's left side. He'd only get one shot before the tank made it through the portal and if he was lucky, the beam would seize up the treads long enough to force the tank to swerve into a warehouse, preventing it from escaping into the portal.

"Million to one chances happen every day," Solid said to himself as he fired the ice beam.

I just put it there cause Laz did, really. Though I suppose I could put Toy, Solid, Cher'tak, Archlich, and Balsk up there for helping to defeat Rularuu in AAR.

((Alright, here it is. Well, the first part of it, at least. I couldn't think of a good title, so the one up there is a WIP one.))

In Paragon City, oddities were an every day fact of living. With metahumans of all shapes, sizes, and colors calling the City of Heroes home it was often generally thought of by the more ordinary populace that nothing could surprise them any more. This was especially true in the run-down neighborhood of King’s Row, where most of its inhabitants lived in a state of resigned acceptance of their horrible lot in life. Being Paragon City of course, the exceptions are almost more often than the rule; a fact that helped keep the people of the Row going even though it seemed to be impossible to substantially improve their lot.

But their story is another time and place. This one happens to deal with a sight that even the most jaded of resigned elders hadn’t seen before. Namely a lone Rikti, heavily armored but unarmed, slowly walking down a side street as it was seemingly lost in thought. But even more shocking was the fact that no heroes were attacking it, though a fairly large group of Longbow looked to be tailing it. Silently hoping that nothing bad would come of this, most of the Row just tried to ignore the lone Rikti and went about its business as usual.

But then again, exceptions to the rule are very popular in this city.

*****

Warmaster Cher’tak of the Rikti Traditionalist faction glanced up at the overcast sky and mentally sighed, the clouds looming heavy and grey as though in mirror of his own mood. The occasional hostile thoughts that leaked in through his mental barriers from the unseen people in the tenements rising up on either side of him didn’t help matters much but Cher’tak considered the discomfort as a form of penance. Considering what he and his people had done to them, Cher’tak felt he certainly deserved to be hated.

Physically shaking those thoughts off, the Warmaster briefly lamented his slipping mental discipline. Ever since several weeks ago Cher’tak’s mood and emotions had been in a downward spiral, even worse than he had felt after discovering the truth behind the original invasion and the betrayal of Lord of War Hro’Dtohz. The fact that he couldn’t remember what had caused this only caused the gaping sense of melancholy he felt to become tinged with the self-loathing he had begun to feel for his part in the invasion and the deaths of thousands of innocents. Normally he could tuck those feelings away, rationalizing to himself that he had simply done his duty as he had known it, but now he couldn’t and neither he nor his fellow Rikti could figure out what to do about it. With his skill in battle slipping away as surely as his self-confidance, Cher’tak had decided to do what one of his few friends had suggested some time ago.

He had gone out to take a walk.

After getting the necessary clearances from Vanguard and obtaining permission from Longbow and the Freedom Phalanx, Cher’tak turned in his bladerifle and was escorted to King’s Row. Even now, half way through his allotted time frame, the Rikti could feel the unwavering focus of the trio of Longbow Warden mentalists to his rear. Despite the fact that Cher’tak was in no means a mentalist and had displayed no thought of harmful intentions, the trio remained as vigilant now as they had upon first meeting him. Simply thinking about them raised a noticeable reaction as he could dimly sense their mental shields doubling in strength under his regard. Sighing again and tugging his thoughts closer to his chest Cher’tak walked on.

So far Cher’tak had wandered more or less aimlessly around the neighborhood, only changing course to avoid sounds and thoughts of battle, not wishing to get attacked by some hero caught up in the heat of the moment. But this time Cher’tak had something of a goal in mind, a small plaza just ahead of him with some form of statue in the middle fronting a large structure that teemed with more minds than the Rikti had seen in any one other building so far. He faintly remembered something about the average hours of a work day on Earth and reflexively checked the Traditionalist mental network at the edges of thought, confirming that the reason so few people were around elsewhere was because they were busy at their places of employment.

Cher’tak was very glad for that, but put the matter out of his immediate thoughts as his feet finally brought him up to the foot of the statue. Much smaller and less impressive than the almost ubiquitous hero statues scattered about the rest of Paragon, it seemed to be nothing more than a bespectacled, overweight human sitting on a bench while checking his wrist. Cher’tak wondered at that pose before belatedly recalling that most humans commonly wore time telling devices there. Of course, Cher’tak was still confused as to the meaning of such a pose, but the small plaque under the stone man’s feet demanded attention.

Crouching down to get a better look at it, Cher’tak mentally sighed once more as the human glyphs proved as impossible to decipher as always. Ruminating on the problem as he slowly stood back up, Cher’tak glanced behind himself at the group of Longbow that were just now crossing the street to join him in the small plaza, though they would remain a healthy distance away, just in case. Refusing to follow the mental trail of just what ‘just in case’ might entail, the Rikti turned toward his group of minders and walked over to them.

The mentalist trio, already being on high alert, didn’t react much to his movement, but the rest of the Longbow tensed up and more than a few went for their weapons, only the stern order of the commanding officer keeping their itchy trigger fingers at bay. As Cher’tak came to a halt a few meters away from the squad, the officer stepped forward and asked the Rikti what he wanted.

“Request, desire: Translator: Human glyphs,” answered Cher’tak as he looked down at the officer who’s face contorted in thought before he nodded and pointed at one of the troopers.

“Williams, front and center,” ordered the officer and half a second later a petite blonde woman crept out of the confines of the squad and saluted the officer, giving Cher’tak a nervous look.

“Answer his questions to the best of your ability, Williams,” added the officer as he motioned for her to follow Cher’tak. “If you fear for your safety, you know what to do.”

“Y-yes sir,” stammered Williams, her youth apparent in her voice and nervousness. Cher’tak silently wondered what the officer was playing at, giving him the aid of a woman who could barely bring herself to look at him, but figured that it was some arcane form of ‘hazing’ which Cher’tak had heard about.

Waving for the human to follow, Cher’tak changed course back to the statue, his footfalls ringing heavily in the still air. Hesitating for only a moment, Williams hurried after him, her lighter steps moving at twice the pace just to keep up with his longer strides.


((*cough* And that's the first bit. Tell me what you think, people, I could really use some criticism here. Been a damn long time since I tried writing something like this.))

((*is pretty much sitting around waiting to see if his missile explodes Soviet's tank*))

Ah geez... Not this again...

Did You Just Punch Out Cthulhu: Toy Dispenser (For taking out Hequat)
Obfuscating Stupidity: Toy Dispenser
Cloud Cuckoolander: Solid Shot
Glass Cannon: Solid Shot, Toy Dispenser
Mighty Glacier: Lord Netharak, Brutish Ghoul
Stone Wall: Toy Dispenser (He switches between Stone Wall and Glass Cannon)
Dual Wielding: Balsk, occasionally Lord Netharak
Quirky Miniboss Squad: Mini Bot, Toy Bot, Small Toy, Large Toy, Block Bot, Combat Toy
Determinator: Lord Netharak
Drop the Hammer: Wielder of the Painpipe
Artificial Limbs: Balsk, Captain Farfield
Nanomachines: Toy Dispenser, Solid Shot
Lightning Bruiser: Rich the Claw
Kill It With Fire: Lord Netharak
Flaming Sword: Balsk, Lord Netharak
Hyperspace Arsenal: Toy Dispenser
Combat Tentacles: Brutish Ghoul (Midnight Grasp)
Energy Blasts: Archlich
Hellfire: Lord Netharak
Invisibility: Granash
Badass Blink: Granash
Implausible Fencing Powers: Balsk
Impossibly Cool Clothes: Balsk (What few he wears, anyway)
Limit Break: Toy Dispenser, Lord Netharak, Brutish Ghoul, Balsk
One Winged Angel: Lord Netharak
Winged Humanoid: Balsk
Magic Knight: Balsk
Glowing Eyes of Doom: Archlich, Lord Netharak, Granash
Technicolor Eyes: Balsk (red)
Monochromatic Eyes: Brutish Ghoul (white)
Badass Longcoat: Rich the Claw
Dramatic Wind: Toy Dispenser (blame his anti-grav field)
Light Is Not Good: Toy Dispenser
Five Bad Band: Toy Dispenser, Brutish Ghoul, Archlich (more of a trio, really)
Power Glows: Toy Dispenser, Archlich, Lord Netharak
Pure Energy: Toy Dispenser (force fields), Archlich (magic blasts)
Frickin Laser Beams: Toy Dispenser, Captain Farfield


*collapses* ...that's all the ones I'm doing...

...you have a Fanfiction account?

DO TELL.

Poking his head up over the edge of the latest roof, Solid watched the pair of villains go completely nuts and charge straight at the tank. Both of them certainly earned the 'Nutcase' label as one went at the bad guy soldiers with a pair of swords and the other tried to get into the tank.

Needless to say, Solid didn't think it was a very good idea to let even craziers bad guys get hold of a bloody tank, so he had to take action.

"I need a stereo and some Flight of the Valkyries right now," Solid muttered to himself as he kicked off from the roof, shooting straight up into the air and bringing his rifle up to aim at the gap between the tank commander's body and the open hatch.

Flicking a switch on his rifle, Solid qued up an LRM and began locking on to where he wanted the thing to go. Assuming nobody shot at him, the android would be firing what amounted to an anti-personnel rocket straight into the guts of the tank with a happy cry of, "Missiles away!"

Bah, fine. But only cause you asked. Though the way things are going I think I'm going to end up stuck and will have to post anyway to provoke people into giving me more ideas.

<_< Also it's totally going to be a copy of this story, but with different people and hopefully something completely new.

I am so unoriginal. *le sob*

*blink*

Somehow I completely missed that screenshot link. And heh, yeah, always nice to have pictures to go along with the words. So how about you put up the second one too?

I've always approved of things involving Cyrus.

...and now I have an idea for something. >_> *goes off to scribble*

Skimming along the rooftops to keep from being seen too early, Solid homed in on the pillars of smoke and arrived in time to watch the scrapper take out what looked like the tank's commander. Targetting eye flashing slightly as it identified and labled the various people with such amusing designations as 'Bad Guy Leader', 'Villain Nutcase 1', 'Villain Nutcase 2', 'Katana Scrapper', 'Random Girl', and 'Soldier Hero'.

Seeing as how the pair of villain nutcases were doing an admirable job of drawing fire and distracting the more mundane evil soldier types, Solid decided to lend them a hand by plunking an AP round straight through the skull of the unfortunate 'Bad Guy Rocket'. Once the kill was confirmed, fairly easy to do what with the spray of red and grey matter now seeping into the asphault, Solid ducked back down into cover.

Projecting a small overhead map of the area in his mind, Solid blasted off and skimmed over the rooftops again as he came around in a semi-circle. Once he was set up on a new roof and forming a triangle of metahumans surrounding the tank, he'd really start getting down to business. Well, as long as the other heroes didn't get themselves killed or the two villains bugger out before they got their revenge.

"Either way, more tallies for the ol' fuselage," cackled Solid gleefully.

[ QUOTE ]
And with a wordless cry of rage, Lord Recluse hurls himself at her throat.

[/ QUOTE ]

Whenever I read that, I can only hear Recluse going "RARGLE SNARGLE FARGLE!"

It makes me lol so.

*scratches head*

That was well written, as always, but for some reason it just felt very off the way Manticore kinda broke down like that. What you had Manticore do was certainly right, I think, from what we know about him, but the way he collapsed and all just felt too...theatrical to me.

I'unno. *looks up* It strikes me that I shouldn't be complaining of something Hickman obviously approves of, but I so very rarely find things to dislike in stories in this forum.

((Dun dun DUUUUUUUUUUUUUN.))

"No Solid, there's no security level fifty-one."

"Oh come ooooonnnnn! I've done all the task forces! Even the ones in the Shadow Shard!"

Michael White, the Back Alley Brawler, veteran hero of Paragon City and mentor to hundreds, if not thousands of new heroes just sighed and started to facepalm before remembering how long his nose ached last time thanks to the heavy energy gauntlets he wore. He managed to get his point across anyway, though, as he crossed his arms and glanced up at the sky as though asking God why he had to deal with stuff like this.

"Look, Solid, Blue Steel told me all about the conversation you had with him last week," Brawler said, turning the tables on his opponent and jabbing a large metal finger at him. "What he told you then doesn't change just because you went and helped Dr. Quarterfield out in the mean time."

The dull grey android dwarfed, for all his above-average height, by the Brawler took his turn to sigh. One hand came up to fiddle with the radio transceiver in place of an ear as his head swept back and forth, surveying the clustered lower ranked heroes before he sidled closer to the big man and something approaching a furtive expression appeared on his otherwise expressionless face.

"Yeah ok, I get it," the android blaster whispered loudly as his targetting eye darted from side to side. "How much is it gonna cost? I'm friends with this little old lady, see? And she makes the most wicked-awesome brownies you've ever tasted. How's that sound, huh?"

White barely resisted the urge to facepalm again, though the mention of brownies reminded his stomach that it was past lunchtime, a fact that it decided to voice fairly loudly the next moment. Solid Shot, also technically a Hero of the city, nodded knowingly and shot White what could almost have been a wink.

"Yeah, uh huh, I think somebody is thinking of brow-"

Solid cut himself off as a sudden explosion, louder than anything an Embalmed Vahzilok or Nova'ing hero could make, rocked through the Freedom Corps courtyard, setting the crowd of newbies scurrying in confusion. As one, the Brawler and Solid glanced over toward the warehouse district and the cloud of smoke drifting up from some building.

Sighing and sullenly kicking the ground with a metallic boot, Solid looked up at the Brawler and shrugged, "I guess I should go check that out."

White nodded as he activated the hero-issue commlink nestled behind his ear, checking the broadcast channel for any signs of alarm, "Yeah, you should. Find out what's going on over there and I might forget about how you tried to bribe me."

Solid sighed even louder and slumped a bit before reaching under his black and grey cape and unslinging his OmniTech assault rifle. He didn't expect much that could challenge a hero of his skill, but it never hurt to be prepared.

"Guess I should just toss the first box in the garbage then, huh?" Solid added almost as an after-thought as he turned to leave. "Cause I mean, it's not like I can eat em. Be a waste of some awesome brownies, don't you think?"

The Brawler paused in the middle of trying to calm down a young hero who was babbling something about the army invading to look down at Solid Shot and narrow his eyes behind his goggles. The blaster looked up at him perfectly innocently, an effect ruined somewhat by the way he was eagerly tapping his rifle in his hands. White was about to answer Solid when War's chopper got hit, the second explosion in less than as many minutes setting both veteran heroes on edge.

Changing his response before it began, the Brawler pointed toward the two plumes of smoke, "Go."

Solid threw his arms up in the air in consternation before he loped away several feet and blasted off, blue flames roaring from the jets mounted in his feet. He circled the courtyard for a moment, taking the time to shout down, "You haven't heard the last of me, copper!" before he angled off toward the commotion.

"I wonder if Justin likes brownies," mused the veteran hero as he watched Solid fly off before he put the matter from his mind and concentrated on coordinating the heroes of the zone, attempting to convince the less experienced ones to stay away from whatever was going down.

((O hai thar. Any oddities regarding tenses can be blamed on all the present-tense Virtue emoting. Gotta unlearn bad habits.))

Whatever I might say has been said before by a whole ton of other people. This was simply an amazing piece of work and I do wish it could become canon.

Maybe someone should send a link of this to Hero 1?

*blink*

...note to self: Read BlueBattler's other stories.

<_< God damn. So many good authors running around this place that I'm getting jealous.

Yay new chapter!

I can't wait.