Mechagogue

I LOVE YOU!

I have been trying to find that for ages!

PS: And Sephiroth is a whiny pansy who should do the world a favor and fall on his own, obviously meant to over-compensate for his shortcomings, phallic sword.

(In respone to "Kefka who?" Borrowed from Wikipedia, edited down for relevance)

Kefka Palazzo, Final Fantasy VI's primary antagonist. was the first volunteer for an experimental Magitek infusion. The process was flawed, and although Kefka gained the ability to use magic, it shattered his sanity, making him brutally misanthropic and nihilistic. He is the right hand man of Emperor Gestahl, whose orders Kefka carries out with an almost maniacal zeal, running afoul of the [heroes] on multiple occasions. He is also a rank coward, running from almost all in-game fights involving him, or employing Imperial Soldiers or illusions to fight for him.

Most previous videogame villains (before Kefka), acted as distant, monstrous, and shadowy figures, who often were devoid of much hint of character or personality trait beyond that of autocratic, tyrannical, brutish, and cruel archetypes they were meant to embody. Kefka, on the other hand, was forced to scheme, manipulate, face and overcome challenges to achieve his power, and demonstrate his intelligence and Machiavellian traits. His most defining attributes, however, were his prolific insanity and his dark, twisted sense of humor. These traits and actions differed greatly from what, at the time, was the video game villain "norm," and engendered Kefka with a wholly unique personality that won him both admiration from some fans and profound disliking from others. Kefka remains a fan favorite among those who regard the 2D Final Fantasy games (in particular, Final Fantasy VI), as the best of the series. It should also be pointed out that unlike any other Final Fantasy villain, such as Sephiroth or Kuja, Kefka succeeded in what he set out to do. In fact, he may be one of the only RPG villains in history that actually manages to succeed in his goals, defeating the party and destroying the world. It is his second, not his first, set of plans that the player ends up foiling.

Notes
In the original Super Nintendo release of the game (under the name Final Fantasy III), Kefka's maniacal laugh was one of the only "words" in the game to have accompanying audio.

Kefetasura giggled with glee as he leapt upon Helpers shoulders and sat, legs dangling at either side of the robot's chest.

"Ooooooh! Goody! I got the butler-bot all to myself!" he clapped, leaning forward and kissing Helper's head with a long loud smack of the lips.

[ QUOTE ]
Scooping up Essex by the back of her armor again, [Rosalind] held her aloft.

"Who wants to trade?" she demanded.

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"I'll trade robots with you," Kefetasura piped up at once, "but only if the little one is just as good at following orders as this one," he indicated Helper by thumpng him on the head with a fist.

That's a habit I have also, which is why the majority of my characters are based on the "Huge" model. I'm a big guy with broad shoulders... Oh what the football coaches tried to do to recruit me in High School! *reminisces and laughs a little* Sadly (for them) I wasn't interested in anything but freeweights back in those days. Somehow I managed to get myself into 2 periods of weights gym each day. If only that kid could see this fat lazy old man, I'd have kicked my own [censored] on principle.

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((*heart skips a beat* We have a Kefka now? @_@ *fangirl*))

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((Best. Damn. Villain. EVER. Period.))

"Well, from the bored looks on everyone's faces I can see it's up to me to entertain," Kefetasura prononuced as it became his turn, "Let's see... I am Kefetasura, and, as my name implies, I am one of the Asura. For those of you who don't know; an Asura is a mighty spirit born at the beginning of time, mere moments after Brahman incarnated the gods. Which, yes, for those of you actually paying attention, makes me a quasi-deity in my own right, and pretty much better than you in every conceivable fashion. But I'm still a people-person!" He grinned his winningest grin. "My hobbies include prestidigitation, poetry, dancing, kidnapping girls, laughing manically in my fortress, and video games. My favorite game is Final Fantasy Six."

Seeing that it was his turn to speak, Helper stepped forward.

"Hello. My name is Helper. I was constructed in 1916 by Dr. Julius Hermes. My purpose was to act as a fully autonomus laboratory assistant robot, a role which I fulfilled until his death in 1934 left me as the property of the Hermes Institute. I continued aiding in scientific experiments for several years until I was retro-fitted to perform maitainence and hazard work for the numerous nuclear experiments of the 1940's and 1950's. Eventually, the Hermes Institute was absorbed under the aegis of SERAPH, where I was put to work aiding the team that was tasked with reverse engineering Rikti technologies. For security purposes, my memories of that time were wiped. My powers were discovered accidentally by DATA technicians during routine maintainence. Since that time I have been granted greater autonomy in the pursuit of Hero related duties as well as my assistance duties. I also have a job working at a High School for super-powered children, where I act as custodian."

"Yeesh!" Kefetasura groaned. "I slept under a mountain for three thousand years and it took less time than that story!"

Helper obediently shuffled to the center of the room, having stacked all the bags into an exemplary pile.

Kefetasura glanced at Lyden from the corner of his eye, and proceeded to stare over the balcony in an attempt to see down the female participants shirts.

Back at the former Hellion hide-out the police had mostly contained the area. Ambulances were trickling in as the rescue workers pulled Hellions out of the rubble. The fire department had sent two trucks to insure the safety of the scene, but they didn't think it necessary to send more. Most Hellions tended to occupy buildings that had been abandoned or condemned, so the city had already turned off gas and electricty. The only risk was if one of the more powerful Damned got uppity and started torching things. That risk was considered 'low.'

Meanwhile, Jon MacMaetor was not-so-silently fuming.

"Mexican moron! Takes down a building! Got no plan! Ruins my whole mother [censored] crime scene! Loses the [censored] thing we're supposed to get back! Godammit!"

"Sir?"

"WHAT?!"

"The investigator from MAGI has arrived. Says he's going to need full access to the scene to search properly."

"Alright, fine. You stay here, I'm leaving you in charge."

"Where are you going, Detective?"

Jon ran his hands down his trenchcoat, smoothing it, and feeling everything was in place.

"I'm going to find the idiot that did this and arrest him for obstruction of justice, vandalism, depraved indifference, criminal negligence, and however many counts of attempted murder as there are Hellions in that pile of rocks. That's where I'm going."

The Detective got the spare shotgun out from the trunk of his cruiser and loaded it up.

"And I expect that by the time I get back we'll be able to tack on resisting arrest and assaulting an officer," he said darkly as he slid into the sewer.

Kefetasura had managed to get himself seated on top of the big-screen, his legs dangling down the center of it. He giggled wickedly at the "meeting" of Kaloaten and Kairaishi, though he pouted a bit after the jounin sheathed their blades.

"I thought you guys had some dumb honor thing about the sword needing to taste blood before going back in the sheath," he protested, "Or is that just talented ninjas? Anyway, this show sucks. See if Carlos Mencia is on! I love that song he does about Kanye West being a crazy n..."

"Not to interrupt, but I do not think the word you are about to say is polite in mixed company," Helper said as he wandered into the room, his arms so laden with the bags of others that his head could not be seen behind them. Still, somehow, the robot managed to navigate the room without colliding with anything. Although, he was stopped by the locked door that led to the rest of the house.

The robot started off-loading bags one by one into a very neat stack next to the door.

"Hey!" Kefetasura barked at him. The small purple-skinned demon-man had stood up on the television, his clothes rivaling Toy Dispenser's in sheer "he-must-be-color-blind'ness."

"I thought I told you to put my suitcase in my room, you dumb hunk of junk. Not 'Wherever's convenient.' Seriously, you suck, butler-bot! I want to register a complaint to the Queensryche people! Not only does their music suck, the service sucks too!"

"Please calm down, sir. I am not affliated with our hosts in any way. I would not want you to reflect poorly on them for my shortcomings," the robot said in a diplomatic voice.

Kefetasura hopped up onto the balcony and sat, his legs dangling and swishing lazily in the open air. The entire conflict seemingly had been forgotten.

A metallic glint shined in the distance. Slowly it grew and moved closer until the sun hinted off the tarnished bronze body of a six foot tall robot. It was strangely constructed, it's torso looking rather like an upside-down triangle with a massive arm jutting from each vertex-like shoulder. His legs were oddly short and widely spaced to keep the contraption balanced. It's head bore a strange configuration of purple hued LEDs arranged to mimic a face. It's name was Helper, and it was walking towards the mansion, presumably from Paragon City.

Helper shufled up the walk to the mansion. The robot didn't quite understand why he had been selected to take part in this particular program. SERAPH had received an invitation to send a representative to take place in a sociological experiment, and they all choose Helper to go. Everyone else was far too busy to dedicate an indefinite amount of time to, what they called, 'extra-curricular' activities. Helper had been sent mostly because it would have looked bad if the organization had sent noone.

Ultimately, Helper had been told to do it, and therefore would do his best to function adequately.

He came to a stop just outside the door.

Kefetasura simply popped into existence at the edge of the gate. He strolledd non-challantly up to the house, his brightly colored clothes swishing in the breeze. He grinned happily when he saw the robot at the door.

"Oh goody! There's a butler-bot! They didn't tell me there'd be a butler-bot!" He clapped his purple skinned hands together and twirled for joy, dropping his suitcase at Helper's feet.

"Bring that to my room, will ya?" he ordered as he made his way inside. Apparently he was not as concerned for propriety as any of the others.

"I would be glad to assist," Helper said, lifting the suitcase. The robot turned to Rosalind, Tomanton and Kaloaten, "May I carry your things as well?"

He glanced down at the little pink android and the LEDs of his face positively brightened.

"Why, hello miss S-6! How funny to meet you here."

"Actually, I think that's the definition of a big bad thug," Xander countered sarcastically, "And why does nobody have a straight answer for anything? It's like 'Is your pork fried rice any good?' and the answer comes like 'In the land I come from I am far superior to the concept of right and wrong, and you are a pitiful fool for lumping things into such narrow categories.' And I'm sitting here like 'Oooooh-kay, but is the fried rice any good?' I mean, really people! Come on! We're all speaking the same language, right?"

Xander rolled his eyes at Ryuji.

"Alright, first off; Liking you has nothing to do with anything right now. And just for your own reference; Half of me watched as the nebula of hydrogen and helium that would eventually form the centerpiece of this little planetary system started to rotate in on itself, and marveled at the influence of galactic gravity that caused the sun to coalesce. Average that with my 16 year old half and I still got you beat by a couple dozen geological epochs. So, when I said "No it wouldn't," I meant, in fact, "No, it didn't." So just due me a favor and pawn your ennui off on somebody else. K? Thanks.

"And secondly," Xander wheeled around on Hotaka, "What exactly are you ninja-types doing in Paragon? I thought killers-for-hire were generally frowned upon in these parts."

"Way to dodge the question," Xander said amiably, "Let's try to focus on the giant blob-men who like to eat people for the time being. We can worry about finding a suitable name for your chronological predicament later, k?"

Ernesto Jimenez walked home from the Tharomar building, arms wrapped around his chest and shivering like mad. His jacket was not nearly warm enough, and the fresh snow saturated and numbed his feet through ratty old sneakers.

There was one good thing about the cold; It took his mind off the events of the previous night.

Images of guns and blood haunted Ernesto every time he closed his eyes. The smell of his smoke-laced clothes brought him right back to the building rocking beneath him and the feel... moreso than the sound... of the explosions.

Fortunately, all he knew now was the numb and the cold.

When he finally made it to the top of the stairs in his fifth floor apartment the numb was replaced by sharp pain in his feet, and his hands were shaking so badly that it took him nearly a full minute to turn the key in the lock. He rushed inside, locking the door behind himself and stripping off his wet clothes.

Most days he would make himself some food, but today Ernesto wanted nothing more than the dark and thoughtless embrace of sleep. He flung himself on the mattress in the corner of his one-room apartment, and slipped gratefully away from consciousness.

((Deleted. Somehow it got posted twice. =/ ))

Starfall's form collaped in on itself, condensing into the shape of the young hero.

"I'm kinda actually gonna have to agree with Mr. Cranky-pants on this one. Ghosts kinda make a pretty good case for death not being the big bad life-ending thing we thought it was. On the other hand, that does kinda screw you outta a satisfying death, doesn't it kid?"

Xander was very aware of Ryuji's age, and was just trying to get a rise out of him by calling him 'kid.'

"Heh," Xander chuckled, his dwarf form undulating softly. "I'm half ghost on my father's side."

"Don't let it bug you," Starfall said to Reginald, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as they walked further down the passage, "My mother is the same way."

Ernesto stared at Jack for a moment.

"¿Las balas...?," he said in an utterly confused voice. "I... I mean, the bullets. No, Mister Jack! This is impossible!"

Ernesto examined his shoulder, front and back. Nothing. "¡Un milagro!" he exclaimed, "¡Elogien Jesús!" The night janitor quickly kneeled in front of Jack, making the sign of the cross and offering thanks and prayers to the Lord.

"I hope for his sake the Kraken doesn't know enough to chew," Starfall wondered aloud.

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... a silver orb about the size of a fist, which beeped in a very annoying, high pitch, growing more rapid by the second...

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"Oh you have got to be [censored] kidding," MacMaetor moaned before shouting "Hit the deck!"

There was quite a chaotic scene as the assembled police rushed for cover.

"That's not her fault! Why do you have to hold it against her," Xander teased as an uppercut sent a Protean up into the ceiling. Returning his attention to the Kraken, he balled up a fist and tugged loose a portion of it's life force, absorbing it into his own form. The wound it left didn't seem to leave a mark and was gone a moment later.

Starfall looked over the Kraken from head to toe. Nothing seemed to be hurting it. At least, nothing was hurting it badly enough that it -stay- hurt. Nena's big sword had cut huge gashes in it that just weren't there anymore. Plus, there was a second Kraken that wasn't even doing anything. If that one decided to fight them as well things would probably end in several emergency trips to the Hospital.

Jon muscled his way to the front of the line, inserting himself forcefully inot the conversation with la Comtesse.

"What's you're hero handle," he asked authoritatively. He didn't wait for a response. "Whatever it is, listen; if you can bring me a collar that's fine, but we're here on a retreval mission first and foremost. If you can get that ring back I'll spearhead the initiative to get you a medal personally."

The elder detective had a look of sincerity in his eyes.

Screw sad! He made Essex cry! Let's divy up his stuff!

Dibs on the mega troll!

Seriously though, you will be missed. My characters seemed to always end up at odds with yours, and in that vein I must say that I hated them all. Mostly because they were capable ruthless opponents that always had another trick up their sleeve. Good stuff.

Kudos, and good luck!