Mr_Grey

((Have you ever seen Casshern? I know I broke the rules here a little, but I feel that Soviet's post needs a little more spice...))

"I'm going to have to compensate for this," Dross muttered as he sunk his red eye into his face and stood up against the withering fire.

It was like pushing against a metal wall that kept hammering into him. As he put his left leg back to brace against the ground, he held up his forearms to block against the rounds, flattening the blades and widening their mass to adequately defend against the unrelenting assault.

Standing fully up, he started lurching forward. Spikes shot out of the soles of his feet, further bracing him and he slowly pushed into the barrage. Suddenly, the fire stopped and he sprang forward several yards into the midst of the Flash Gitz.

"Odd."

When he morphed the shield back to arms and regrew his red eye, he saw the Flash Gitz. Each of the crack Ork soldiers were aiming their reloaded ridiculous weaponry at him and grinning evilly.

Halfway to the spire, Dross noticed an asteroid crush it. Though it did nothing to deter the android, it did give him a moment of pause, and he slowed slightly. Rising a few miles to get a better view of the destruction, he realized this was a much larger engagement than originally anticipated.

"Intriguing," he muttered, "Perhaps I finally have a test of my capabilities."

And he started hurtling downward.

((While Power Breaker sleeps for a little bit, I think I'll explain Dan Taylor...

Dan Taylor is a correctional officer recently transferred to Ziggursky. He handles the daytime shift, so he largely misses the craziness of the night. However, he knows something is desperately wrong in the Zig. Though he is one of a very few guards trying to get to the bottom of the corruption lying at the heart of their facility, they are too splintered and ineffectual at the moment to cause a true schism among the guards. However, it is probably a good thing that at least one of these officers is trying to weed out the cancer that is tormenting the inmates.

Officer Taylor is no pushover. He is more than capable of handling himself against roughly five people of a comparable size. He has trained in Tae Kwon Do and standard Boxing/Pugilism. He is also quite deft with his nightstick/tongfa, and doesn't hesitate to utilize all the tools at his disposal, such as pepper spray, tasers, and even a few tranquilizer darts.

Recently transferred to the Super Block <somebody, please give me the designation of this cell block>, Dan is currently assigned to the heavy duty solitary confinement/quarantine cells.))

"Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!" Cobalt Black yelled as he tore through the alley. Gunfire, glass, and "Lord knew what," crackled out of his communicator. He arrived at the opening of the alley just in time to see two Malta Agents disappear, leaving a small cylindrical object laying between Kipland and... a dragon(?).

Before he could react, however, the grenade disappeared in a puff of green dust. Looking around for a discernable reason, he saw what appeared to be a werewolf walking toward Kipland and his "new friend."

He exited the alleyway, tugging at his mask and waving to the wolf.

"Hey! HEY! I need to talk to you!"

((He's still quite a distance away, Khel. He may be a "Godmoder" but he's not moving at the speed of thought, here...))

((Are we done here?))

((Figure his introduction as moments before the spire catastrophically left the face of the Battle Rock. Use that to gauge how much more time you have.))

Lord Diov: 20
Khellendrosiic: 20
Hallucinogen: 20
Essex: 22
Prodiguy: 21
The Soviet: 20
Lazarus: 12
Devious Me: 20
Burning Brawler: 18
Arashi: 19
Halo Inc: 14
Billy Boy: 17
Leo Gunner: ARROW'D
Pheonyx: 16
Mithral Zeta: 16
Cowman: TROLL'D
Moiread Scott: 17
Seikon: MENTAL BLAST HEAD EXPLODE'D
Coldfire Kaiser: HEAD SHOTT'D
Army of Grey: 19
Ozell One: 22

BLING! Halo

BANG! Soviet

((While the massive war is fun and epic and all, it doesn't necessarily scream "Godmode" does it? Let's... Let's throw a wrench in this little war...))

A metal man pondered his options. He had been waiting in the back of his creator's mind for what seemed like an eternity. When his form was finally crafted, he was unleashed upon an entire unsuspecting planet. Not a soul survived that test-fire.

Now, Dross had a new conflict presented to him. He didn't know how he had got here, his creator was a simple carbon-based lifeform, and died in his last operation. After the Inferno, Dross had shut himself down, waiting for a new conflict... And here he was.

"Where am I?" he askled, his smooth form reflecting the harsh rays of an unforgiving sun. In the distance, he saw a tower and what looked to be a massive glow of light and energy. Even from here, he could hear the sounds of battle, and the tremors of impact.

Dross took stock of the situation in an instant and came to one conclusion. In order to gain any answers, he would have to go to where the conflict was. And, to go where the conflict was, he would have to go armed.

Good thing he's an autonomous weapon. Good thing he was built to kill.

His smooth exterior started to ripple and whine. Blades protruded from his forearms and extended several feet past his hands, spreading out broad and morphing wicked saw-edge teeth to the back edge of his right blade.

Three blades sprang from his back and extended another foot from his head, which was growing a pair of horns that curled forward from the sides of his forehead. A single red orb suddenly bubbled to the surface of his face, dead in the center.

Satisfied, Dross rose from his landing point and aimed toward the battle that raged in the distance. It was time to learn some answers... It was time to go to war. He rocketed into the horizon, aimed for the spire that seemed to be the source of all this conflict.

((To Hell with it, I'm jumping in... Give me a moment...))

Aw... Sorry Coldfire... It just... kind of happened like that...

Lord Diov: 19
Khellendrosiic: 20
Hallucinogen: 20
Essex: 22
Prodiguy: 21
The Soviet: 21
Lazarus: 11
Devious Me: 20
Burning Brawler: 18
Arashi: 19
Halo Inc: 13
Billy Boy: 17
Leo Gunner: 6
Pheonyx: 16
Mithral Zeta: 16
Cowman: TROLL'D
Moiread Scott: 17
Seikon: MENTAL BLAST HEAD EXPLODE'D
Coldfire Kaiser: HEAD SHOTT'D
Army of Grey: 17
Ozell One: 22

Shot Lazarus... We can't seem to get the guy to stay down...

Healed Diov. I get a feeling he should be further along than 19...

The rythmic pounding gave way to the bells. The accursed bells.

Power Breaker turned to the cell door. Dan's shift ended a while back, and nobody had checked to see what he was doing. He had heard the bells before... wondered at them...

He had heard rumors of a mad doctor working in the Zig. He didn't think it was true... He didn't believe that the guards would have a lunatic working for them. He had heard the bells once on the "norm" side, and the next day a couple prisoners were missing.

He had still figured it was a legend the guards had seeded among the inmates to further keep them in line. Like grade-school punks, most had fed into it. But now, Power Breaker heard the bells more often. He wondered at that. Surely, true supervillains, with a history of phenomenal powers at their disposal, wouldn't be subdued by such cheap chicanery...

He walked up to his reinforced door and tried to slip his fingernail into the slot. If he could just see...

The guard outside snapped the slot back shut, and Power Breaker's fingernail snapped off. He choked out a curse as pain shot through his whole arm and he pulled away from the door. A bit of the fingertip had been mashed in at the same time.

"Sonova... Well, [censored] you, too, buddy!" Breaker yelled as he rubbed the pain out of his finger, "I don't need to know about that crap, anyway! Frickin' ghost stories..."

He righted his bed as quietly as he could, and decided it was time to go to sleep. Even if it was real, the "Good Doctor" had apparently decided on someone besides him to entertain for the night.

Lying flat on his back, he only ahd one thought before sleeping.

"If you can't run away, what good does having a bell on a cat do the mice?"

((Jason, I'd think about this... They put you in a cell... that could be opened from the inside. I think they're messing with you.))

Lord Diov: 18
Khellendrosiic: 21
Hallucinogen: 20
Essex: 21
Prodiguy: 19
The Soviet: 21
Lazarus: 13
Devious Me: 20
Burning Brawler: 18
Arashi: 19
Halo Inc: 14
Billy Boy: 16
Leo Gunner: 9
Pheonyx: 16
Mithral Zeta: 16
Cowman: TROLL'D
Moiread Scott: 16
Seikon: MENTAL BLAST HEAD EXPLODE'D
Coldfire Kaiser: HEAD SHOTT'D
Army of Grey: 17
Ozell One: 21

Healed Hal. Don't wanna start hearing "Daisy... Daisy... day... zeeegrhlghrlrrrrrrllllllllaugh...."

Put a round in Leo. Set another on the chopping block, I guess...

Also, I was kidding too, man. It's why I threw the "not a small amount of violence" crack in there.

Don't worry Mithral... Like in any social circle, hazing here only really has power if you give it power. With diligence, patience, and not a small amount of violence, it, too, can be broken.

"Harris," one of the guards, Dan Taylor, called in to Raymond through the slot in the heavy, reinforced door, "You alright in there?"

"Breaker," the inmate replied.

"What? Ray, you okay? Come on man..."

He watched as the massive body pulled itself out of the corner and made its way to the sink. The massive spikes were oblong in shape, hardly sharp, but they still looked painful. The guard ahd no idea how to deal with this.

"Power," the inmate rumbled as he looked into the mirror.

"Ray!"

"Dan... I need you... I need you to stop calling me by my Christian name..."

Harris's walked over until only his eyes filled the slot and stared seriously into Taylor's. Dan Taylor had been one of the guards that had pulled the Tsoo assassin off of Harris the prior week, and was hardly a pushover. Still, seeing those three scars where the assassin's makeshift claws had raked across the socket sent chills down his spine.

"They saved your eye..." he sighed.

"Those Crey bastards..." Harris half-explained, "I never should've agreed to the operation. I should've just let the docs let me die... I'll never make parole looking like this..."

"Yeah... I saw..."

"I look like a God damn cartoon!" Raymond's head ducked down and Taylor could've sworn he heard a noise akin to crying, "They made me a freak..."

"You'll get through this Ray..."

"Power Breaker..."

"Dammit, man, don't do that... Don't feed into the mentality this place puts you in!"

"It's too late," Ray brought his face back up to the panel, "I'm here... They're there. We're all in this block together, now, and I'm guaranteed to wind up having to interact with them. I can't start looking weak..."

"You hardly look frail," Dan muttered, "Have you looked at yourself?"

"Yeah. And I can't make it look like it's broken me. I gotta look like I've embraced this stuff. You gotta start calling me something else..."

"So... Power Breaker, huh?"

"Yeah..."

Dan looked askance at the inmate. He didn't feel for many of the inmates, most of them weren't only guilty, but often quite proud of their crimes. But Raymond had seemed far too... human. When compared to many of the monsters he'd met so far, Raymond was by no means a saint, but he didn't seem to belong with them. Dan read dossiers on most of the inmates he ran across, and Raymond was one that had caught his eye.

A former Family leg-man, Raymond was ushered through the legal system when he was accused of murder. The victim had been a Tsoo courier, and despite Raymond trying to say it was an Outcast, he had been convicted. Whether or not he did it, Raymond seemed to be remorseful the event had happened. Too bad the Tsoo took the event as a personal insult. Hence the assassin, and now, after an experimental operation by Crey, Raymond Harris no longer existed.

"Power Breaker," he finally agreed, "What're you gonna do now?"

"I'm gonna practice my fighting," Harris replied, "Try to warn me if the Warden's holding an inspection... I'm gonna need to roll my bed over so I can use it as a punching bag."

Lord Diov: 18
Khellendrosiic: 22
Hallucinogen: 19
Essex: 21
Prodiguy: 19
The Soviet: 20
Lazarus: 13
Devious Me: 20
Burning Brawler: 18
Arashi: 19
Halo Inc: 14
Billy Boy: 16
Leo Gunner: 11
Pheonyx: 15
Mithral Zeta: 16
Cowman: Attack of the Troll!
Moiread Scott: 17
Seikon: MENTAL BLAST HEAD EXPLODE'D
Coldfire Kaiser: HEAD SHOTT'D
Army of Grey: 17
Ozell One: 20

Shot Soviet. Play nice.

Healed Diov, looked like he needed it.

Kipland got back to the base and started working what info he had found into the computer. He knew there was a connection to Freedom Corps putting out a massive hit on Nemesis (even if they didn’t call it that) and the facility he took down earlier that afternoon (also finding two, count ‘em, two major names in the city hitting the same place). He started rooting through the Freedom Corps database and comparing it to what he knew of Nemesis.

He probably wasn’t the only hero who had figured it out by now, but most of the Nemesis “experts” still had it wrong. Nemesis wasn’t a tactical genius… He was an inventing genius, utilizing a technology that relied on an exceptionally cheap power source, so Nemesis was able to pump more resources into the actual capabilities of his machinery. But Nemesis wasn’t a tactical genius.

“Five gas plants shut down today…” he muttered to himself as he read through the various cells Nemesis had dotted through the city, “Four weapons facilities… Another six training bases…”

“Hey boss,” Ryat99 walked up behind Kip and looked over his shoulder, “What have you got here?”

“Something a little over your head right now, Ninety-nine,” Kip replied.

“Are you sure… looks like data-crunching... I'm pretty good at that stuff.”

“Well, yeah,” Kip shrugged, then leaned back and started rubbing his eyes, “Augh! You think you can look through this… Maybe see what I’m not?”

“Sure thing, boss,” Ryat99 pulled Kip’s wheeled chair out of the way and plugged himself into the computer via a USB hook-up, “Let’s see… Here we go.”

The screen started flashing as Ryat99’s processor cycled through the information faster than human thought. Kip backed away, sighing at the display of sheer power that coursed through the android’s head. A rattling nearby brought his attention to Sheldon’s gerbil, Felix.

“Nraaaaaaaah!” the little fuzzy mutant started panting like a dog as it gripped the wires of its cage.

“Have you and Sixty-six been feeding this guy?”

“Yes, according to Sheldon’s regimen.”

“What happened to him? He’s barely recognizable as a gerbil anymore! He looks like… like…”

“Like a tiny bear,” Sarah walked up behind him and started playing with Felix by dangling a string through the top of the cage, “Aw, lookit you! You’re getting all big and strong! You’re a cute little guy, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

The tiny tail on Felix’s rear started wagging rapidly and happily as he got a hold of the string and Sarah let it go to let him play with it and get all wrapped up. After a few seconds of playing, he rolled onto his belly with a snort and stared at his food dish. Ryat66 showed up shortly thereafter and filled it precisely.

“Normal mix,” Ryat66 explained as the gerbil mutate started gobbling down the kibble, “Helps fuel the transformative properties of the gene-altering formula…”

“Was that dog food?” Kip croaked, “You’re feeding a gerbil dog food?”

“Yeah,” Ryat99’s deep voice almost came out amused, “You ever see a cat eat that stuff? They get huge in no time quick. Felix says the Pure Chow brand tastes the best.”

“You can understand him?” Sarah squeaked as she patted her cat as he trotted past her feet.

“Well, yeah…” the big android replied, “If I’m going to work with the animal, I should know its language. Sixty-six and I know his behavior, mannerisms, and by now, we know his personality. He’s a happy little guy.”

“How’s the transformation been for him?” Sarah asked as she leaned close to the cage and watched him gobble down the food, “I mean… he’s being turned from a rodent… into… into… I don’t know…”

“It’s been painful at times,” Ryat66 explained, “His teeth fell out last night and we couldn’t feed him his normal kibble. We had to feed him intravenously… Good thing Sheldon had prepared us for that.”

"He lost his teeth?" Sarah held her hands up to her mouth, "How awful..."

"In a matter of hours," Ryat66 explained, "he had grown in new sharp teeth. The formula seems to give him terrific regenerative properties. Sheldon is bothered by the thought of his friend suffering, I guess.

“I’ve never seen, nor heard, of anybody learning new subjects so fast,” Kip muttered as he went into the control room to get something from the refrigerator, “The guy shouldn't know this sort of crap, and he must've speed-read nearly a dozen books on the subject and interviewed a couple biologists. Sheldon is a frickin’ prodigy, I swear… Imagine what he could do if he applied himself to selling his tech… selling his skills, even…”

“I guess it’s a benefit, then,” Ryat99 stood up as the printer next to the terminal started spitting out a page, “That he decided to stick to working with his friends. If he were in all of this just to make money, we’d have problems. Kipland… The most likely scenario you requested is right there.”

“Thanks,” he grabbed it on his way back and looked it over as he drank, then choked down the soda as he resisted the urge to spit-take, “Oh… This is bad… Are these number right?”

“Yes, boss.”

Kip pulled his communicator and started dialing.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This place is a blasted wasteland,” Cedric muttered as he hopped from building to scaffolding to building in Venice, now affectionately called Crey’s Folly, “Wonder what it would take the city to start fixing this place up?”

His communicator started bleeping and he answered it.

“Joe’s Taxidermy,” he hollered, “You snuff ‘em, we stuff ‘em!”

“Cedric!” Kip’s voice seemed hysterical, “Listen, man! Are you still in the Folly?”

“Yeah, I’m still in the Folly…”

“Dude, take down any and all Nemesis snipers you see. Do it now!”

Cedric clicked off his communicator and went to work. He had been a trooper before, and knew that, usually, when a superior gave him such a curt assignment with such a specified target, it was gravely important. He flicked open his wrist panel and clicked on the jetpack. An instant later, he was airborne and scanning the region. Higher and higher he flew, but he couldn’t see anything.

Then his jetpack shut down.

“God damn thirty second timer!” Cedric screamed as he fell toward a warehouse.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sighting in,” Tiralleur Graves intoned as the target’s head was aligned under his crosshairs. His compatriots, nearly fifty of them, signaled in that they, too, were ready to execute the target

“Alright gentlemen,” the mission commander breathed excitedly, “It’s time to make a statement for this city!”

“Was that a joke, sir?” another sniper asked amid the chuckles that started to pollute the channel.

“Alright boys, cut the chatter,” the commander cut them off, on my signal-“

Graves missed the rest as Cedric Grey collided into him. Screaming, they both went tumbling off the side of the warehouse. Cedric found himself landing in a dumpster, the garbage soaking up most of the damage. Tiralleur Graves, on the other hand, slammed into the edge of another dumpster on his back. His armor let loose some steam as it compensated for the impact, and he crumpled just outside the waste receptacle.

His rifle hit, butt-first on the concrete in front of him and fired.

“Oh…” Graves moaned, “Oh no… Commander… Some hero just crashed into me…”

“… Graves? What happened? Is your weapon functioning?”

“Uh… yes sir… It… it just fired when it hit the dirt…”

“… No worries… the shell doesn’t seem to have impacted anywhere the target would have noticed… Graves, if you can get back in position by the time I give the signal…”

Suddenly, an explosion tore through the radio frequency, and Graves clutched at his helmet. When the static cleared, Graves could hear screams and more explosions and the Mission Commander yelling desperately to cut the chatter and get back on target.

“Sir? Sir! What’s going on!?”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Did you hear something?” Manticore asked Statesman as they continued their tour of Venice.

Statesman looked up into the sky. Then he saw a small ceramic shell sailing through the air.

“I don’t think it’s something we have to worry about,” the icon of Paragon City replied with a grin, “It looks like things have panned out okay… Still, we should probably get moving.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You [censored]!” Graves shouted as Cedric picked himself out of the dumpster, “You’ve ruined everything!”

“Alright!” Cedric smiled charmingly at the Tiralleur, “Drinks on me, then!”

“You don’t even know what you did!” Graves reached for his rifle, “I’ll kill you!”

Cedric threw his axe at the sniper’s head and Graves jumped down. He looked back to the weapon, then noticed the chain that had followed it. Slowly, he looked back to Cedric.

“Sorry, man,” the armored tanker shrugged before hitting the retract button on his right wristguard and snapping the flat of the axe blade against Tiralleur Graves’s helmet.

“Out cold.”

Cedric got out of the trash bin and strolled over to the sniper’s prone form. Kicking him over, he knelt down and inspected the ornate rifle.

“Huh…” he muttered as he admired the massive blade and intricate etchings and brasswork, “Seems a bit heftier than a typical sniper rifle… I wonder what kinds of rounds it uses…”

Cedric rolled over Graves and started rooting through his uniform. He found a belt with three rounds still in it and an empty loop. They seemed to be a type of ceramic shell, housed in a brass casing, typical for the Nemesis Army, especially, their snipers. Cedric wished he had more experience with their weaponry, though. The best he could gauge was that this rifle was a little different from the one his dad had on display back at the base.

“Well, I need a new weapon…” he declared happily as he strapped the ammo belt across his torso from his right shoulder to his left hip, “And this is as good as any. Can’t wait to put some of you goons down with your own guns!”

“What…” Graves started groaning, “What’re you... you’re… robbing me? What’re you doing?”

“Robbing you?” Cedric smirked, “No… I’m… ‘re-acquiring’ some gear… and as for what else I’m doing… I’m policing my brass…”

He pulled a tag from his belt and placed it on the sniper’s helmet. It started beeping happily, and Cedric slammed his fist into Graves’s faceplate, bouncing the trooper’s head against the concrete.

Graves groaned incoherently as Cedric walked away and a police drone moved in on the signal.

Cedric strolled through the alley humming to himself and started reloading the rifle. He was a little surprised that it was a lot like reloading a breach action shotgun or rifle. He had expected a more complicated mechanism, but wasn’t disappointed by the result. When he left the alley, he was again surprised.

“You again,” Statesman pointed at him, “I saw you in Baumton…”

“Uh… yeah…” Cedric replied with a sheepish grin, “Um… You haven’t happened to have seen a large number of Nemesis snipers around, have you?”

“No,” Statesman replied with a smile, “Something seems to have quieted them down… At least for this hour of the day…”

“Oh… cool…” Cedric shouldered the weapon in his hand, “Well… I’ll be on my way, then.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"It seems the terrorists plans were foiled when a lone hero interrupted the attack, causing a chain reaction to occur that systematiclaly shut down the entire assassination attempt," the newscaster rattled out on the news channel, "From what evidence has been gathered, the gasses would likely have severely damaged their target, which we've been informed was an individual vital to the safety of our city..."

Cedric clicked off the television and smiled to Kip. Kip wasn't happy about the way the situation was portrayed on the news. It seemed the media was really straining to cut down the very real danger the city was in at nearly all times.

"What do you expect?" Cedric popped open a beer and tooka quick swig, "You can't have the whole city living in fear. Nothing'll get done!"

"This is true," Cory agreed as he meditated in the corner of the oversight center, "The newscasters here have a difficult job to tell the people what is going on without terrifying everybody into a state of near-paralytic panic. The fact they were able to mention the story at all is a testament."

"It would've been nice to have gotten mentioned, though," Cedric shrugged, "You know, so I could get in on that ticker tape parade they throw every so often..."

"You did good, though," Ryat99 said in a tone that seemed cheerful, "By my analysis, that compound, concentrated in one area, would have left that region of Crey's Folly uninhabitable for nearly a year. It was sheer luck that the whole network of snipers got taken out like that, though..."

"Yeah, I hopped up on a rooftop and checked through the scope," Cedric started chuckling, "Little puffs of smoke everywhere... And the already heavily corroded metal was getting worse. I don't know what happened to the snipers, but it couldn't have been good..."

Kipland Durj nodded and smiled. He wasn't feeling some sadistic pleasure at nearly killing a group of Nemesis troops. He was smiling because he and his crew were able to not only figure out Nemesis's plan, but bring it down catastrophically.

It just went to show that he was right. He didn't have to think like a general to beat Nemesis. He didn't need to be a detective to unravel the schemes. He did have to think, though. He had to think... like an author.

Raymond Harris was fresh from his operation recovery. They had given him a solitary cell, a mild mercy for a newbie to the "Super" Block. His mind screamed in agony, his body burned all over. He could feel... the things pulsing and flowing through his arteries and veins. He could feel them massaging his muscles, making him bigger...

He could feel the horns growing out of his collar bone and shoulders.

"What have those bastards done to me?" he whispered in a deep voice he barely recognized as his own, "I never wanted this... I had an appeal..."

He looked into the scarred face in the mirror above his sink.

"No way the people of Paragon will look at me and say I'm innocent, now."

He punched into the wall next to the mirror and winced as he felt his knuckles split.

"Maybe they'll bleed out of me..."

Lord Diov: 16
Khellendrosiic: 20
Hallucinogen: 18
Essex: 21
Prodiguy: 19
The Soviet: 20
Lazarus: 13
Devious Me: 20
Burning Brawler: 17
Arashi: 19
Halo Inc: 12
Billy Boy: 16
Leo Gunner: 13
Pheonyx: 15
Mithral Zeta: 17
Cowman: 7
Moiread Scott: 16
Seikon: MENTAL BLAST HEAD EXPLODE'D
Coldfire Kaiser: HEAD SHOTT'D
Army of Grey: 16
Ozell One: 20

Put a point in Prodiguy. You make me laugh, man/woman/something.

Put a bullet in Cowman. I... don't really have a reason for it. Looks like he's next on the chopping block.

((We're not quite dealing with canon here, though, and DJ Zero is hardly God, but that's another argument for another time. And since he's a very real physical presence in Pocket D, especially on V-Day, he's perfectly susceptible to nerve gas attack.))

"Alert! Alert! Alert!" the words scrolled across Power Breaker's vision, "Violence detected in close proximity. Activating stealth system and energy deflector shields..."

"Hey..." Power Breaker started to see his beer reappear as if it were made of some vaporous material, the drawback being that the two Carnie girls started to disappear in the same way, "What the Hell is this?"

"Compound analyzed and countered," the nanites replied, "Locations to replenish chemical materials have been uploaded into the cartogropher software. Advice: Seek warehouses and replenish immediately."

As everything came back into focus, and Power Breaker saw the war that had only moments ago erupted around him, he grumbled darkly to himself about Crey and lousy nanotechnology. Eventually, he truly took stock of the situation.

"What's wrong with people? All ya' gotta do here is sit back and chill... No need for all of this violence."

He saw a shield bubble and started walking toward it.

"I'm gonna make friends with that guy tonight..."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Learn to dodge, go-tard!" Kip roared as he charged forward with a body check in mind.

Then, Curtis fired. He felt an impact on his chest that felt like a bee sting. A few steps later, he suddenly started stumbling, and Kip dove to the ground in a roll, hoping that his momentum would carry him into his enemy's ankles.

"Sluuuuh..." he gurgled out as he collapsed and started tumbling across the pavement.

X-Files dealt with this when Mulder was trying to wish for world peace. Scully said that maybe the point to living is to help each other achieve such a lofty goal, not have it thrust upon us by some mythical entity.

Throughout our history, we have been provided works of fiction that warn us of what happens when such quick-fixes are employed. The results never end well, and our world, as a whole, does not learn from failure.

Besides, if everything's been taken care of for us, what, then, becomes the point of living?

Lord Diov: 16
Khellendrosiic: 19
Hallucinogen: 17
Essex: 19
Prodiguy: 16
The Soviet: 18
Lazarus: 13
Devious Me: 20
Burning Brawler: 16
Arashi: 15
Halo Inc: 15
Billy Boy: 16
Leo Gunner: 13
Pheonyx: 15
Mithral Zeta: 16
Cowman: 13
Moiread Scott: 15
Seikon: 10
Coldfire Kaiser: HEAD SHOTT'D
Army of Grey: 15
Ozell One: 18

Devious Me gets healing... I don't have much mroe of a reason for it than I wanted to see someone hit 20 already...

Seikon gets a round in the leg... it grazed him, but still took a point.

[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
Just an idea to allow people to play dark power sets in your VG. make the dark sets based on clouds of self replicating nanites instead of negative energy. the nanites damages the target and then return to the host with new information which is assimilated internally. the damage caused by the nanites can cause fatigue and other symptoms.

just a thought gl with your VG

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I do like that Idea, but how do you explain the powers like Fear, Tar Patch, Life Drain, Tenebrous Tentacles, Dark Pit, Touch of Fear, Soul Drain, Dark Consumption, and Midnight Grasp, and that' s probably not even all of the ones that wouldn't be justified by Nano bots...I mean I don't care how Super High Tech of a Robot you are, you can't steal a Real Humans Soul.

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Well... Robots wouldn't look at it the same way as flesh-and-blood creatures would. Androids would look at it as withering a creature's ability to replicate the electro-chemical network that allows the creature to function, and utilizing those chemicals to temporarily boost their own systems without the need to sacrifice their own internal resources. And for the tentacles, well, with nanites, you've got more than enough room for a large number of naites to build themselves into the form of the immobilizing powers.

Then again, the machine could be like one of the incarnations of the Coyote android on Gargoyles... Your droid could be built from molten down artifacts so there's still a mystical aspect to it.

Or, there could be artifacts built within the machine...

Or the machine itself could be an enchanted artifact...

And for fear effects... Canisters of psychotropic and hallucinogenic gasses.