Mr_Grey

"Going somewhere, Durnan?"

Joe whirled around to the dark alley, terror draining the blood from his face. The massive shadow stepped forward, revealing Randall Grey. Joe was still amazed someone as beautiful as Sarah could have come from someone as grotesque as that.

"Mm-m-mister Grey!" Joe stammered, "F-funny meeting you here..."

"I hear you have some good news..." Randy rumbled as he stepped more into the light, revealing his bare chest.

Oh, please tell me he has pants on... Joe thought to himself.

"I... I love your daughter, sir... And... I asked her to marry me."

Randy's eyes narrowed, "I know."

"How?"

"Sarah called her mom, asking her to stop our eldest son from kicking the tar outta you. I asked why he'd want to do that, and Char told me... the news..."

Joe waved his hands up defensively, "Now, sir, I swear, I had every intention of letting you know..." I just expected Snuffy to be there so she could protect me from the rampaging beast that is an overprotective Randall Grey...

"I know," Randy growled, "I'm not angry that you hadn't told us yet."

"Then..." Joe gulped, "Why are you here?"

Randy extended one of his hands. Inside the meaty paw was a flask.

"Char's dad gave this to me when I proposed to her," Randy tossed it to the smaller man, "Well, the giving came a bit later. I had to fight him when he heard the news, and you'd think a wiry man with a bad liver can't put up a fight, but this guy took a couple rounds outta me. After ward, we shared a drink."

Randy produced a pair of plastic cups in his other hand.

"Joe," he proceeded to open the flask with his thumb, "You're a good guy. I know I scared ya, boy, and you toughed it out. Despite your debilitating fear of me, and you were right to be afraid, you still pursued your relationship with my daughter. On top of that, you got yourself a good job and have proven that you're more than capable of handling yourself. I don't think I'd be happier if my little Snuffy was marrying anybody else."

Joe accepted his cup in stunned silence. Filling only to the bottom ring of the cup was a thick brown fluid. He figured it was more than enough to knock most people out.

"Uh... Thank you, sir..."

"Drink it quick," Randy warned, "The stuff's potent, and you want it all in ya before it takes you down."

Joe turned the cup upside down and swallowed the contents. It was maple syrup, watered down slightly. Randy laughed boisterously and swatted him on the back.

"You're alright, kid. Welcome to the family!"

"Thanks," Joe coughed out, "Nice joke..."

"You and my daughter still have plans for the evening," Randy smiled briefly before he drank straight from the flask, "I'm not going to be risking ruining that by K-Oing you with liquor. Now, get out there and hit the town with my daughter!"

Joe pointed at the flask, "Was... Was that safe?"

"Hm?" Randy looked at it without concern, "I don't know. Char just says it makes my kisses taste better."

"I see..."

Psycho13 (Triumph): "I'm not really crazy. I passed my Freedom Corps psychiatric evaluation with flying colors. This whole 'N'rah! I want to cut you' thing do? It's just an act!"

Kipland Durj stared out over Skyway City from the top of the concrete spire that marked one of the mystic nodes in the city. His day had been... odd... and he'd finally figured out why.

"Cupid put a hit out on me," he muttered.

First, there was the team that practically fell apart when all of the female members suddenly started swooning at him. At the time, none of them had any idea what was going on, and the girls were starting to argue with each other. Kip was worried that the conflict would cause some villains to get the drop on them, especially when the healer decided to stop healing the tanker because she'd had the guts to ask Kip to a dance at Pocket D...

Later, he was strolling through Atlas Park, and a couple female heroes started trailing him. Every time he turned around, there they were, and giggling.

"I chose a helluva time to start being polite," he grumbled.

Then there was when he went to Pocket D to make good on his promise. He rolled his eyes at the memory.

"It was like a damn Hatchet commercial."

Sighing, he emptied his mind and tried to find a part of his soul that was largely disused since coming to Paragon. He hoped it would work... Then, there was a twitch in the air in front of him. He shot hsi hand out like a blur and caught a hold around the throat of the Cherub.

"Tryin' to get a point-blank shot, huh!?" he hissed at the angry little celestial

"Gachk! Clathk!"

"Alright, sit down!" Kip set the little angel-like critter next to him on the top of the spire and was half-surprised the little guy stuck around.

"Ugh..." he finally said after a few seconds of coughing, "Cripes... What gave me away?"

"Nothing on your end," Kip replied darkly, "There's hsitory to me unlike anything anyone's likely to believe. Not that they're supposed to... I just tapped into something primal I haven't used in a very long time."

"Oh... Kay..." the cherub rolled its eyes and gazed about for a few seconds.

"So, what's your name?" Kip asked after a minute.

"Steve," the cherub replied.

"What the Hell kind of name is..." Kip glared at Eros's assistant for a second, then turned back to his glowering at the War Walls to the south.

Steve was content to give him a minute to continue moping, but he had a schedule to keep. When he reached into his quiver to simply stab the young scrapper with an arrow, he was stopped by Kip's deft swat.

"You guys don't quit, do you?"

"Look, kid," Steve put the arrow back, "Why don't you tell me what the Hell is wrong with you? People, Mortals especially, aren't supposed to be able to resist the direct will of a God. That is, unless of course, there's some loophole being exploited... So what's yours?"

"You really want to know?" Kip's eyes got a faraway look as he started dredging up long ignored memories, "It's not pleasant."

"I need to know," Steve shifted uncomfortably, "Hey, you know, I'm kind of tired of this form... This isn't my normal gig, you know? Mind if I take my normal appearance?"

"Go ahead," no sooner than the words were out of Kip's mouth, the cherub had turned into some sort of six-foot-tall dog-faced demon, "Figures you're frickin ugly..."

"Okay," Steve rasped, "Spill it."

"The secret is... I'm still in love. With someone who... probably died."

Steve shook his head as he figured it out, "Makes sense. You mortals tend to some peculiar attachment behavior like that..."

"This girl... she was... beautiful, to say the least. She was also having a hard life. In high school, she had seen an equivalent amount of horror to what I'd seen by that time, and I'm sad to say, I treated her rather callously. Still, she chose me. She came to me because she felt that I could help guide her to be better than she had been. I won't go into detail as to the kind of life she'd been leading up to that point, but rest assured, there were few who looked up to her, if any. I wasn't kind at first, as I was a suspicious little cur at the time, but her inherent... friendliness... wore me down. We grew closer as the weeks went by, and eventually, I felt something better than my normal nothing at calling her my girlfriend. I felt happy."

He paused for a moment. Steve could have sworn he saw the boy's eyes slightly more moist than normal, but it was hard to tell with the odd energy tendrils flickering in and out of them.

"I never knew what her father was doing to her. The night I did find out, though I'm glad my father was there. The [censored] would've killed me or put me in a hospital... and maybe worse to her. Instead, my dad ripped him a new one and then some, and she was free. Her life started getting better, she moved in with her aunt who helped her get started on a modeling career... I was bummed I wouldn't get to see her in my school anymore, but I was going to graduate after the next year and we already had plans to go to the same college."

"Then the Rikti attacked in your senior year," Steve grumbled, "That's rough, son."

"Only my dad can call me that... Anyway, I had some hopes a few weeks back when my supergroup rescued a group of refugees that were stuck in Baumton... you know, that I might find her among them..."

"I see... She's probably dead, Kipland..." Steve started scribbling into his scroll, "Okay, I'll take you off the list. You've probably got another year where grief will count for your behavior... But it's been a long time, boy."

Kip simply nodded.

"I'll..." Steve rolled up the scroll and reverted back to his cherub form, "I'll leave you alone to your thoughts now. Kipland, things can be better... Don't close off your heart because of your tragedy. Your suffering will only grow worse as time goes by."

"I know."

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

Sarah Grey beamed into the base. Her brothers and a group of their friends were holding a Valentines Day party. She just had to tell them the good news, then she'd be getting back to Joe so they could go to a party in King's Row being held by some of the police. Then, she intended to keep the night going when they got back to her apartment...

"Hey, HEY! SNUFFY!" Cedric hollered as his sister walked into the central workshop chamber, "How're you doing?"

"Joe proposed!"

The room suddenly got deathly quiet. The stereo had simply kicked off when the words left her mouth and even the conversations being held in other rooms stopped.

"Say that again," Cedric's eyes got a peculiar glint into them.

"Joe proposed!" Sarah hopped up and down happily and showed her glittering engagement ring to her brothers, "Isn't it pretty? He said it wiped out four months of his salary!"

"That was smart," Roland chuckled.

"Congratulations, Sarah," Dustin "King Slater" Simms raised a glass of whiskey to her, "Joe's good people."

"Yeah," Cedric grimaced, "That's too bad."

"Why?" Matt McGinty asked worriedly.

"Because I gotta go kill him, now," Cedric replied as he started walking toward the teleporters.

"Cedric..." Snuffy groaned.

"Are you sure that's wise," Roland asked lazily, his face held in a mask that was a blend of a grimace and a smile, "I mean, isn't that something dad should do?"

"Roland..."

"Yeah, dad should," Cedric replied as he grabbed his axe, "But he's not here right now, and he'll be busy all night with mom..."

The siblings shuddered simultaneously.

"...So, this responsibility falls on me."

Cedric started plugging the coordinates into the teleporter so he would be well on his way to King's Row and officer Joe Durnan's apartment.

"Cedric!"

"Relax, Snuffy," Levi Baker handed her a cup of soda, "I cut the power to the teleporters."

Cedric promptly disappeared.

"Oh, I MEANT to do that..." Psycho13 winced, "Don't kill me... please?"

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

"JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOE!"

"I guess Snuffy told you the news, huh?" Joe said calmly as he pressed his foot against the base of the door.

"I will kick this door down, man! We both don't want it to come to that, so get out here and take your whoopins!" Cedric screamed, "I was trained by the Marines, man!"

"If you were your dad, I'd be more afraid," Joe calmly adjusted his black bowtie, "And good luck kicking the door in, man. I know how to do that, too, you know."

"GRARGH!" Cedric pounded his fists agaisnt the door.

"Aw, now you're not even trying."

"Come on, Joe! You used to be so scared! Where's your fear!?"

"I proposed to your sister," Joe replied, "Man, I feel better every time I say that. I proposed to Sarah..."

"GRAAAAAAARGH!"

Another flurry of wailing on the door made a tune for Joe as he finished his tie and turned to putting on his jacket. When the pounding stopped, he stepped back to admire himself in the mirror.

"Hm... Sarah's right, I do look almost handsome..."

The door opened and Cedric rubbed his bruised knuckles in Joe's plain sight as the officer stepped into the hallway. They gazed at each other for a few moments, sizing each other up. Joe looked to be dressed for a night on the town, Cedric was in his amouflaged pants, combat boots, and green T-shirt. Joe shook his head sadly at his future brother-in-law.

"So... You and Snuffy got more plans?"

"Yeah, one of my co-workers is throwing a party."

"Hm... Nice... You know, if I was my dad, your head would be mashed into that wall by now."

"Yeah..."

"And I really shouldn't be treating you any better..."

"Uh-huh..."

Cedric drew his axe and admired the edge on it for a second. He could hear his Praetorian screaming at him to cleave Joe's head off. Oddly, it was actually getting easier to ignore the guy. The brandishing of the weapon wasn't doing its job, though. Joe was on Cloud 9, and it would have taken a very specific Rock tanker to drag him down.

"Joe, I know we gave you a hard time, but..." Cedric threw the axe into his left hand and held out his right for Joe to shake, "Welcome to the family, man."

"Thanks," Joe shook Cedric's hand and the two gave each other a brief hug before parting ways.

Cory Simmons handed his bouquet to Gertrude Youngs, a cabal sorceress he had met a few months ago when she had the codename of "Raven." She smiled happily at them, muttered an incantation, and they disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"Interesting spell," Cory intoned, "Most people would have figured you just disintigrated them."

"Aw, Cory... What gave away the teleportation?"

"There's no dust crumbling to the ground..."

"What's to tell you I didn't have a disintigration spell waiting for the flowers back at my apartment?"

"Why send them to your apartment, then?" Cory smiled, "Besides, flowers are far more fleeting than their purpose. For instance, a more symbolic gift to represent a budding relationship is a sapling... Perhaps a willow in our case... to represent the growth and long-lasting nature of our developing love."

"Those are pretty words, Cory..." Gertrude idly stirred her tea and glanced down, "You think maybe this was an unwise decision?"

She gestured to the square quilted blanket they were sitting upon as it levitated far above the campus of the region currently known as Croatoa by much of the heroic and villainous community.

"To hold a picnic in the skies over Salamanca? No... This way, we avoid any nasty squabbles, and... "

Cory pulled a red gift wrapped box from within his cloak.

"It gives you the opportunity to enjoy this gift without feeling embarrassed."

She opened the box and found a necklace inside. A thin gold chain, glowing slightly with magical essence, coiled behind a small gem encrusted amulet shaped like a curled up cat. Gertrude smiled happily and squeaked out a little happy laugh as she pulled it out. Cory spread his hands and pantomimed holding the necklace and draping it around Gertrude's neck. When she heard the clasp click behind her, Gertrude leaned forward and hugged her valentine in a warm embrace.

"As you can see, young Cherub," Cory murmured to the childlike entity floating next to them, out of view from normal mortal eyes, "Your intervention is not required."

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

"Sarah... I love you... Will you..."

Joe Durnan bit off a curse as he rehearsed what he wanted to say. No matter how many times he repeated it, it always came out sounding corny. He and Sarah Grey had been dating since high school, and it seemed that they were destined to be together, but he just couldn't figure out the proper way to... to... To propose.

Sighing, he glanced out the window of the diner they had agreed to eat at for their Valentine's Day dinner. Sarah told him she'd be late, that her team had decided to help one of the city's major heroes with a peculiar problem. Struggling to remember that much of the city was under the protective cover of the Emergency Medical Transport, even dangerous areas like Perez Park or Baumton, Joe tried to calm his quickening pulse rate.

Suddenly, he felt a pair of tiny hands cover his eyes.

"Guess who?" he heard her familiar high-pitched voice squeak, "Bet it'll take you a million years!"

"No way... Mynx?"

Sarah's hands came away from his face and he felt a quick swat on the back of his head.

"That joke's so old..." she giggled as she moved to the other side of the table, "Hoo, boy, Joe! Positron had a group of us go after all sorts of crazy bad guys. The Circle of Thorns, the Vahzilok, even Clockwork... All trying the same thing! Just... Ugh, it was madness..."

She saw the glum look on Joe's face and smiled.

"But it wasn't nearly enough to stop me from making my date with you."

"Sarah..." Joe mumbled, "I... I need to tell you something..."

"Oh no! No, Joe, say it ain't so! Don't break up with me on Valentines Day! It's not right, it's not nice, it's downright mean! I'll make it up to you, I pwomise! I'll make more time for us! I'll huggle you morez..."

Other patrons suddenly were staring at them, mortification evident on their faces.

"Sarah, calm down!" Joe yanked the ring box out of his pocket, "I'm tryin' to tell ya I want to marry you!"

Smiling, she snatched the box out of his hand, opened it and put the ring on her finger.

Admiring it in Joe's stunned silence, she said, "I know, Silly, I was just frustrating you to make it easier to say."

"So..."

"Yes!"

She scrambled out of her seat, ran around the table and tackle-hugged Joe into the booth seat. While they lay there, cuddling and making out, a waitress showed up and tapped on Sarah's shoulder.

"Um... I don't think you two can do that here..."

"Do you mind?" Sarah giggled, "He just proposed!"

"So, you'll be having free ice cream for desert..."

"Yay!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

THUNK!

"Agh!"

A cherub flapped up to his boss and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sir, I think this is a lost cause..."

"No," Eros replied, "I can make anybody love!"

"Sir... we've all read the reports on this guy. He just doesn't feel anything like that... It all gets torn apart inside his head and filed away into disused sections of his subconscious."

Eros let another arrow fly into Kipland Durj's back. The scrapper's soul let out another anguished cry as it clutched at it's metaphysical chest and clawed desperately at its back. The physical body scratched the back of its head.

"Come on!" Eros roared, "He's teamed with a group of women! Even those villains feel love today! This shouldn't be so difficult!"

"Will you knock it off!" Kip's soul suddenly shouted at Eros, "Don't make me come over there! I don't have TIME for a relationship!"

"Dammit, start feeling!" Eros screamed as he let fly another arrow, "You deserve to suffer like the rest of mankind today!"

"OW! That was my EAR!"

"Sir... 'suffer' is the wrong word..."

In physical reality, Kipland started swatting his left ear.

"What's wrong?" the shapely tanker he was working with intoned.

"I can't hear out of this ear all of a sudden," he replied, "Ope! There it goes."

"Oh good."

"That's it, I give up," Eros grumbled, "But before I go..."

"Sir..." the cherub winced as he saw his boss take a fist-full of arrows and take aim on the whole group.

"I'll get to that kid one way or another!" Eros screamed as he let fly.

Kip's face twitched a little and he scratched the back of his head again, "Man, what is going on... Hey, how long... until... uh..."

He noticed the girls he teamed with were suddenly all red-faced and looking away all of a sudden.

"What's wrong?" Kip checked his clothes for stains or unsightly openings, and, noticing nothing was amiss, suddenly had a horrible thought, "Is there something behind me?"

"N-no..." the tanker quivered out as Kip's face suddenly seemed to be framed with flowers in her vision, "N-nothing's wrong..."

Kip jumped back slightly when the girls collectively sighed.

"Sir, you remember the Bull of Minos, right?" the Cherub hissed as they flew away.

"Cripes! Why does everybody have to remind me of that!? I was defending my mother's honor, okay!?"

"Sir... It just serves as a reminder that your power can do just as much harm as it helps..."

"Oh, cram it, Steve!" Eros grumbled, "Who's next on my 'Overdue' list?"

The Cherub pulled a golden papyrus sheet out of thin air and consulted it.

"Oh... Oh cripes... Ezekiel Durj..."

"DAMMIT! How often do I have to deal with this jacked-up family!?"

"This might be easier, sir... He's one of those 'loved-and-lost' types... Being as he's our prior subject's father... and his ex-wife is in town... our records show it was not a falling out of love that caused their break-up..."

"They were in love, right?"

"Yes sir."

"So, a reconciliation..." Eros scratched his chin as they approached a bar in King's Row, "Hm, and they're both here. Oh good... I need a couple like this..."

"Sir," Steve groaned sternly, "You do remember we're not allowed to imbibe alcohol..."

"Yes..." Eros rolled his eyes.

"Also, sir, we're not allowed to videotape these things."

Eros glared angrily at his assistant.

"Shut up, Steve."

Main Hero: Randall Grey

Question 1: B

Randy's nearly fifty-five and looks like he's thirty. He's living long enough as it is.

Question 2: C

Randy has no beef with killing bad guys. Killing perfectly normal, innocent people? Yeah, you just got entered into his "Big Book of People I Have to Break."

Question 3: B

This is where having a supergroup helps...

Question 4: A

Look at the ugly mug to the left. The dastard should know better than to anger this guy.

Main Villain: Power Breaker

Question 1: B

There's a chance at redemption for Power Breaker here, and he'll take whatever he can. Still, if there's a fight to be done, Power Breaker's no pushover...

Question 2: A

I know this isn't a "redeemer" option, but Power Breaker's still more of a thug than a mastermind. He also doesn't like bribing idiots. Besides, with the average Paragon citizen, it doesn't take much more than the threat of violence before they fill their pants with brown goo and stop whatever it is they're doing...

Question 3: B

"[censored] Arachnos!"

Question 4: C

Though, he'd still probably try to reason with the agent. Not everybody in the Rogue Isles is a bloodthirsty savage.

Cedric Grey: "Okay... What I'm looking for in a woman is about five feet tall, brunette, curvy... What? That's not what this is? I have to confess something? Aw, what a gyp... Okay... I... I'm kind of lonely, I guess..."

Nester Durj: "Sometimes, I purposely avoid healing my comaptriots if they prove to be snotty. You knwo the ones I'm talking about! Those gooners who like to talk mad [censored] like, 'I've been doing this since the Beta Project.' Uh-huh, gooner, and why is it that you haven't even got a three-month badge!/ I-"

Cedric suddenly wraps one of his arms around Nester's neck and drags him away from the camera.

Cedric Grey: "Hokay, partner, nap time for you..."

"Nester: "Urk... Grgle..."

Sarah "Snuffy" Grey: "I love getting inside bad guys' heads and leaving a bit of a tweaked memory in there. Like when a Council trooper thinks of his 'first time,' I turn the girl's face into Statesman's. Tee-hee!"

Kipland Durj: "I got nothin' that'll top that. I don't think anybody does."

Kipland smashed a Nemesis guard with a hammer fist across the face. He whirled around to the guard behind him, kicked each of the man’s inner thighs before a final sharp kick to his genitals. He then smashed his knee into the minion’s face after he fell to his knees.

It felt good to be in the field again. He’d been so wrapped up in the day-to-day doldrums of running Grey’s Army he was about to have himself a nervous break if he didn’t do something. As he crushed some poor dastard’s larynx, he idly wondered if he really was about to suffer a nervous break, or if he already had a long time ago.

Kip liked soloing. It helped him think. He was able to vent his frustrations in a whirlwind of rage and violence without worrying about hitting any friends or allies. He’d worked with plenty of other heroes, and he didn’t hate the experience, but he just felt he could truly exert himself when working alone. It seemed to be even more difficult to do such a thing in a team that had controllers. They seemed to be coming into their own lately.

A long-range shell suddenly impacted on his chest and Kip braced for the choking gas. Again, he found himself surprised to be saved by the alien armor as it was somehow filtering the air. He still suffered from the noxious fumes, but it was nowhere near as debilitating as it used to be. His eyes watering slightly, he rushed to the Tiralleur in the far corner, jumped, and slammed his knee into the sniper’s faceplate. The Tiralleur’s head rattled around inside his helmet as he bounced off the walls and he slumped to the ground.

At this point, there wasn’t anybody on the first floor of the base that didn’t know Kip was there. He could hear the thumping of their booted feet as they stormed through the halls to the entrance chamber. Irritated, he sighed and took a position next to one of the corners. He could hear the hissing of their steam-powered armor getting louder. He flexed his fingers in and out of fists to prepare for the next batch of fighting.

A rifle barrel appeared and he snatched it. Raising it up over his head, he stepped forward and spun about. The barrel warmed as the panicked soldier fired an instant before Kip’s knee drove into his gut. He could hear the other soldiers shouting and yelling, the rattling sound of rifles being readied and aimed at him only gave more reason for his next step.

Dragging the rifle muzzle to aim at the floor and then whirling it to the right, he wound up spinning the Armiger around, shot his arm around his opponent’s neck and kicked him in the back of the knee. The trooper fell limp, and Kip had himself a shield.

“You guys don’t even want to shoot, do you?” he shouted as the troopers hesitated to fire.

“We’re a bit more conscientious about our fellow soldiers, thank you,” a lieutenant replied, “Rest assured, spandex, we’ll fire if we have to. I suggest you let go of our compatriot so his life won’t be wasted.”

Kipland nodded. Yanking the rifle out of the Armiger’s hand, he stepped back and smashed the stock against his helmet, knocking him out cold. He then threw the broken weapon at the line and charged. Some Nemesis troopers fired, and Kipland was surprised some of them actually missed. The rounds that hit felt like light punches. He managed to turn his grunt into a battlecry, however, and cut down most of the line with a sweep kick. He didn’t ponder too hard on the fact that it felt like he had kicked through a set of old dried corn stalks. Instead, he leapt back up and rove his heel into the inner thigh of the nearest trooper.

The lieutenant tried to stab him with the massive bayonet on his rifle and Kip smacked the weapon aside. He usually shook his head at the ridiculously oversized weapon piece, but he just didn’t have the time. He could hear other groups preparing to fight him.

He grabbed the rifle by the barrel again, and yanked it hard toward himself and to his left. One of the Nemesis soldiers was knocked backwards by the resulting explosion as the lieutenant reflexively squeezed the trigger. Kip planted his foot into the lieutenant’s power-armored chest, breaking the impact resisting mechanisms and causing steam to explode everywhere. The lieutenant fell and writhed on the floor, choking on steam and what seemed to be some more of that peculiar gas Nemesis used.

“I guess inside your chest armor isn’t a good place to store volatile shells, huh…” Kip chuckled as he popped pins out of the rifle and split it into two pieces.

With the bladed barrel in his right hand and using the stock as a cudgel in the other, he whirled about and rained blows upon the remaining troopers. The next group of Nemesis soldiers fared little better, and Kip smashed the stock of his weapon on the lieutenant’s helmet. The one he stole the weapon from stood, anger evident on his face and he tried to tackle the young hero. Kip smashed his elbow into his attacker’s face and dropped him like a sack of potatoes.

There was a whirring and clicking sound and Kip turned to see one of the Jaeger robots that bolstered the Nemesis Army’s ranks. It hopped as if it were afraid and started running away. Kip leapt to the corner it disappeared behind and hurled the bladed barrel down the hallway. He didn’t hit the Jaeger, but an unsuspecting Tiralleur found himself suddenly clutching at his rear.

“Things are sharp, huh?” Kip laughed as he hopped back up and finished the sniper off with a snap kick to the face.

He could hear more troopers headed his way, so he started running to face them. Two rounded the next corner from his left so he jumped up, and smashed his knees into each opponent. He could feel the collarbone of the one on his left collapse. The one on his right bounced his head off a storage rack and was out like a light.

Kip picked up their rifles and fired each one down the hall. Two troopers fell and he stormed after the rest, wielding the bladeless weapons like a pair of clubs. In order to balance the weight problem, he had to wield them more toward their mid-sections, but he utilized the extra material as a sort of forearm guard when the other troopers and lieutenants engaged him in melee.

The final room of the first floor was a massive battle. Nearly thirty Nemesis soldiers, each one trying to bring an end to the young heroic Durj. He kept them off balance by jumping into the middle of them immediately and using the mass of humans as his shield. He kicked, punched, grabbed, clawed, and head-butted his way through the army. He could feel bullets smashing against the peculiar shield his armor left on him when it wasn’t "active." They seemed to be trying to shoot him in the head.

One of the troopers was wielding a gattling gun of some sort, and he bunched up the villain's arms inside his own. Slamming his back into the soldier's torso, he whirled the two of them around, sending rapid-fire bullets into the remaining Nemesis troops. After the gun went dry, he slammed the back of his head into the soldier’s nose, breaking it and dropping the opponent.

“Damn that was intense,” he muttered to himself.

There was a “ding” sound. He looked up to see the elevator was headed down. He didn’t have to guess where it was headed. Backing up, he licked his lips in preparation for this next attack. He didn’t know who was on the other side of the door, but rest assured, they were not going to like what he did to them.

In the unlikely event it was a hero, he could always apologize.

It was an ugly thought, and Kip could feel a warm sensation on his neck. Probably some form of guilt, he figured, and just as rapidly discarded the thought. As the elevator’s indicator neared his end, he let out a roar and started sprinting for the door.

It turned out the figure inside the elevator wasn’t a hero, but a Nemesis Warhulk. Kip’s warcry turned to a whoop of triumph as he grabbed the sliding doors and yanked himself through with even more momentum, driving his foot into the hard glass containment system that was the bulk of the Nemesis Warhulk’s design.

As the glass cracked and fluid started to spurt out, Kip back-flipped off the machine. Landing on his feet, he came face to face with a gout of flame from the hulk’s main gun. He noticed, however, that the machine had been taken completely by surprise, and was quickly falling onto it’ rear. There was a sickening crunch and Kip realized the Jaeger that he had missed must not only have brought the Warhulk here, it had been in the elevator when Kip attacked it.

Charging forward through the flames, amazed that he could barely feel the heat, he smashed the weapon aside with his forearms and brought his foot down hard on the glass container again. This time, the glass shattered, and whatever the fluid was, it had to be highly explosive because suddenly, Kip was airborne witha gout of flame following him. Screaming, he hurtled thirty feet, bounced with a groan, and rolled another ten feet before coming to a stop face down on the carpet.

He lay there groaning for a few seconds. Finally, he rolled himself over and opened his eyes.

Two girls were looking down at him. He recognized them instantly. It was kind of hard to forget who two of the city's favorite heroines were.

“No way” he grunted and clasped his hands over his face, “My luck can’t be this bad.”

“Well,” Mynx muttered down at him, “That’s a Hell of a greeting, wouldn’t you say, Libby?”

“Come on, let’s help him up,” Ms. Liberty replied as she tried to pick Kip up by his shoulders.

“AH-AAH!” Kip shouted and he waved her away, “I’ve got bruised, maybe cracked ribs here… And I’m conscious! If you’re gonna move me anywhere in this condition, at least K.O. me first…”

“You really want us to do that?” Mynx laughed.

“Hang on…”

Kip reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a pair of green cylinders with spring-loaded syringes. He pressed one cylinder into his thigh and the other into his neck. The two heroines winced at the one in his neck hissed, signaling the needle deployed. The appearance of the green stuff entering his body couldn’t have been too pleasant, either.

“In case I have a skull fracture,” Kip explained, “Can never be too careful… The nanites in the serums will do the trick of fixing me right up… But they can’t take away the ache… The brain can’t reconcile the rapid repair or something dealing with the memory of the impact… I don’t know…”

He sat up and rubbed his ribcage for a moment, checking to see if anything was out of place. Satisfied, he turned to his other limbs and was pleased to find that everything was in order… Except his transportation.

“Dammit! Those bastards broke my leaping system!”

He pulled up his pantlegs and started ripping out the exo-frame wrapped around his legs. It was made of plastics and polymers, and had been utterly shattered.

“You know, that’d probably be easier if you just took off your pants…” Mynx said before she realized what she was saying.

Kip, however, didn’t think past the actual words of the suggestion, “Normally, I would, but not in present company. I’m wearing boxers under here, yeah, but I still feel it would be indecent, unprofessional, and so on… Good thing I'm wearing wide-legged pants, though.”

Cursing, he wrenched the last of the Velcro-strapped apparatus off his thighs and yanked the broken machinery out of his pants. He then stood and hopped in place a little to shake out any loose bits he might have missed, but promptly fell to his knees and started clutching his stomach and head.

“Ooh… That’s not good… Probably just some side effects from the Warhulk… I should probably go to a hospital later, though…”

“Who’re you talking to?” Ms. Liberty asked.

“No one in particular,” Kip replied.

He shook his head a little to clear it as the two heroines wandered about the floor to see if anybody else was still around. When they returned, he was stretching his limbs as he walked toward the elevator.

“Hey, wait!” Ms. Liberty shouted at him as she ran to catch up.

“What?”

“What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to ask you the same thing,” Kip laughed in response, “And I would think it’s pretty obvious in my case. I’m whomping Nemesis troops.”

“Yeah,” Mynx chuckled, “But we already had this place staked out.”

“Well, take it up with Freedom Corps,” Kip shrugged, “I checked the police band, and the cops hooked me up with an F.C. dispatcher. It seems there’s something big going on in Nemesis, and they sent heroes into cells all over the city.”

“We know,” Liberty stood in the way of the elevator.

Kip’s face betrayed nothing, not irritation, or discomfort. He looked at her stoically with his glowing, smoke tendril wreathed eyes.

“Look… Uh… Who are you, anyway?”

“Kipland Durj.”

“That’s your hero name?” Mynx chided, “That’s pretty stupid.”

“It’s my name,” Kip replied to the red-haired heroine, “And if you have an issue with it, take it up with my father.”

“It’s still stupid,” Mynx countered, “If any of the criminals found out where you live or where to find your family…”

“Then they’ll have a fight waiting for them in any case,” Kip finished, “My brother, my father, both are registered. Neither of them are hiding behind a moniker or a mask.”

His tone was perfectly neutral. His words were statements, without any emotion or implied derision.

Still, he looked at them both and said, “Not that there’s anything wrong with a superhero identity. I just don’t need one. I’m not a celebrity hero.”

“Celebrities?” Ms. Liberty started to chuckle, “We’re not celebrities.”

“You’d have to go to the other side of the world to run into someone who doesn’t know you, Ms. Liberty,” Kip smiled at that one, “Maybe not nearly so far for you, Mynx.”

Mynx almost slapped him, but thought better of it. Ms. Liberty seemed to find it amusing, anyway, and chuckled lightly into her palm

“Okay, I get your point.”

“In any case, I heard something about this place being a gas plant. So far, all I’m seeing is office space,” Kip shrugged, “Of course, if that elevator goes downstairs, we might find some kind of facility in the basement.”

“You’re willing to work with,” smirking, Mynx rested her fists on her hips and leaned slightly to one side, “What did you call us? Bad luck?”

“I didn’t call you bad luck,” Kip returned her smirk with a grin, “I was referring to the situation. But, yeah, I’m willing to work with you two. As I understand it, most heroes would give their left… eye… to work with either of you two.”

“Nice cover,” Ms. Liberty laughed as she turned to the elevator, “Try to keep up… Uh…”

“Kip,” he sighed, “Just call me Kip.”

“So, why is the situation bad luck?” Mynx asked, still not mollified.

“It’s just…” Kip pressed his lips into a thin line before he continued, “Members of my supergroup haven’t had much good luck when dealing with the much more well-known heroes. Just last week, I met Statesman… and had to stop my boss from calling him a sack of [censored].”

“Holy…” Mynx gasped, “And States just let him walk away?”

“Barely. He recognized my boss was in an emotional state. I sent him on vacation and assumed command while he’s gone.”

“Are you…” Mynx smirked at Kip, “usurping control?”

“Nah,” Kip waved off the idea, “Randy can keep the job. It’s been splitting my head in two trying to keep our records straight the past couple days. Freedom Corps is all screwy with one of my guys… Saying he hasn’t been mentoring this newbie… Then, not minutes later, there’s the missing clocked time. It’s odd…”

“You might want to check your friend’s communicator,” Mynx offered, “Synapse says those things have been kind of on the fritz lately.”

“Cool, I’ll try to remember that when my tech man gets back… Ope! Here we are!”

They found the facility in the basement and made short work of the troopers waiting for them. However, they weren’t finding much in the way of gas production systems. It all seemed to be minor processing labs and old junk. Eventually, they came to a heavy sealed and locked door. While Kip and Mynx were willing to try exhausting themselves by smashing through the massive metal thing, Ms. Liberty figured the cell commander would probably have the key on his person. They just had to find him somewhere else in the building.

“I guess that’s as good a plan as any,” Kip agreed, but still gave a few heavy kicks to the door’s metal surface, “Nope… Not budging…”

They made their way to the top floor and found the commander, who was, surprisingly, a normal human instead of a Warhulk or even a Fake Nemesis. The commander, Captain Burke, put up a decent struggle, but the three heroes made short work of him and his guards.

Kip was surprised when Mynx gave him a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.

“You fight better than I expected,” she explained in the elevator on their way back down to the locked door, “I was figuring you to be some loudmouth or lunatic…”

“So, when exactly did you two show up?”

“Shortly after you were using those two rifles as clubs,” Ms. Liberty explained, “Rather strange way to fight the bad guys, but it seemed pretty effective.”

“Thanks. So, I guess that was you two breathing on my neck before I attacked the Warhulk in the elevator?”

“Uh huh,” Mynx giggled, “I thought we were found out of sure, but you stopped right in front of us… Nice shampoo, by the way. After all that fighting and sweating you’ve done, you still smell like an apple…”

“Thanks.”

“And it’s so refreshing to run into a guy who isn’t using Hatchet…”

“Hey, I hear bad things about the ‘Hatchet effect,’” Kip laughed a little, “Like how women hate the smell of the stuff…”

“That’s a fact,” Mynx wrinkled her nose, “The stuff just smells like chemicals…”

Ms. Liberty just folded her arms across her chest and shook her head slowly.

“Yeah, but bees?” Kip paused for dramatic effect, “ They love that [censored]. Really big, crazy stinging bees…”

The three of them laughed at the joke and the elevator reached the bottom.

“So, you have tried the stuff?” Mynx finally gasped as they made their way to the door.

“Nah,” Kip grimaced, “I can’t stand the smell of colognes, perfumes, or other weird stuff like that… They make me choke. I’m good with deodorants and antiperspirants, though.”

“Well, that’s good,” Ms. Liberty intoned.

“I never would have…” Mynx suddenly frowned as Kip looked at her impassively.

“… never would have guessed I use deodorant,” Kip muttered, “Hm… Seems a bit of a low-blow at the moment, doesn’t it?”

“Well, you might actually smell bad to her,” Ms. Liberty explained, “Her sense of smell is a bit heightened.”

“Yeah, I can smell that guy you won’t tell any of us about, Libby” Mynx smirked.

“Okay…” Kip started putting his hands to his ears, “Right… That’s not something I need to know about.”

“Right,” Ms. Liberty stopped and turned to her friend, “Look, Mynx, I already told you, that guy and me… we’re just friends. We’ve discussed it, and he’s agreed to it.”

“I can’t believe you believe that!” Mynx shouted, “No guy ever means that!”

“Depends,” Kip suddenly gritted his teeth as he realized how he had just stepped into a hornet nest, “… rgh… That is, I know a guy in that sort of relationship. If I didn’t know the guy, I’d agree with you on that point, Mynx… But my old friend is an honest guy.”

“I don’t believe you,” Mynx hissed.

“Cool, whatever,” Kip shrugged, “Believe what you want, just… Look can we change the subject or maybe start breaking bad guys again?”

They popped open the door and found the actual operating facility. Nemesis automatons were performing the duties of mixing the volatile chemicals that made up the noxious gasses Nemesis snipers tended to use in their shells. Kip’s nose twitched at the familiar smell and he didn’t hesitate to start thrashing the mechanical humanoids along with the heroines.

It was a smaller facility than they expected, but apparently it had fulfilled its purpose.

“Hm,” Mynx flexed her claws as they left the building and police drones started filtering in, “What do you suppose were in those empty gun racks?”

“Guns, I would think,” Kip replied.

The two heroines glared at him sternly.

“Sniper rifles, okay? I’m thinking there might be a plan active right now that involves shooting someone important from very far away.”

“Yeah, but who?” Ms. Liberty pulled her communicator from her belt and started typing into it.

The results she got on the screen were less than promising, however.

“Dammit! It could be any number of things today! The mayor’s awarding a hero for saving members of the city council from the Circle of Thorns… There’s a few store dedications dotted throughout the city… A library is having Back Alley Brawler over to read to blind children…”

“Aw, that’s nice,” Mynx smiled.

“I think I see what you mean about us being celebrities, now,” Ms. Liberty muttered as she rifled through the lists, “Hm… I guess we better knock over a few more of these cells.”

Mynx nodded and the two started to head off. Suddenly, Ms. Liberty stopped and turned to Kip.

“You wanna come with us?”

“Actually,” Kip was answering a call on his communicator, “It sounds like my supergroup needs me. I’ll probably look into this back at my base, though. If I find anything, I’ll give you a call.”

The two exchanged numbers and Ms. Liberty promised to give Kip a call if they found anything, too. She and Mynx promptly leapt away, clearing hundreds of yards in single bounds. Kip jumped to a nearby rooftop and answered his communicator.

“What is it, Cedric?”

“Dude! I’m in the Folly!”

“You interrupted me for THIS!?” Kip almost shouted, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done!? Do you have a clue who I was working with?”

“Ms. Liberty?” Cedric laughed, then, in the silence that followed, “Oh my God, I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah…”

“I thought you were working solo today,” Cedric chuckled, “Or is that what ‘working solo’ is to you? You have a whole secret life as the pet hero of some of the city’s elite, huh?”

“Oh shut the [censored] up,” Kip hissed, “It was a once-in-a-lifetime thing… Especially this time…”

“Well, I’m hanging in the Folly… Man, this place is filthy…”

“Yeah, Ced,” Kip chuckled, “But you’ll find plenty of Rikti in there for ya to rip into with that axe of yours.”

“Hells-yeah!” Cedric shouted, “Wow, what’s that big rock-like guy?”

“No Ced! Don’t get too—“

“Blergh!”

“Aw… Ced…”

“He hit me with a Dodge!” Cedric roared after the jingling sound of teleporting to the hospital faded, “[censored] can’t even kill me with a quality vehicle!”

“Cedric,” Kip rubbed his temple, “I’ll see you later at Nester’s for movies and cards, okay? Bring chips and beer. I’m bringing dip, beer, more chips, and napkins and paper plates.”

“Who else is coming?”

“Snuffy.”

“What’s she bringing?”

“The Ryats, Joe… I think they’re bringing a pizza, too.”

“Are Cory and Matt gonna be there?”

“I think Cory has a date in Croatoa. I wasn’t able to get a hold of Mattock, but I think he’s working with Nester right now.”

“Cool, I’ll give him a call anyway.”

Kip winced at the sound of a wind tunnel.

“Are you going back into Crey’s Folly?”

“Yeah,” Cedric shouted triumphantly, “I’m gonna give that big stone [censored] a piece of my mind!”

“Cedric, I don’t think that’s a good idea… No…”

“Blergh!”

Kip turned off his communicator and leapt away. In mid flight, he realized what he was doing and stopped at the rooftop he landed on. Looking around, he realized he was able to still keep leaping… even without the leggings Sheldon had whipped up for him and the other members of Grey’s Army.

He powered on his armor and found a nearby reflective surface to talk to. Despite the cold surface of the outfit, he felt there was something behind that mask besides his own face… Something sentient, and possibly benevolent…

“Did you do this?” Kip intoned at the reflection, “What more are you doing for me?”

Suddenly conscious of himself, and feeling watched, he powered off the armor, it disappeared as wisps of smoke, and leapt into the distance. Shortly after his passing, a man dressed all in dark black that seemed to absorb the light that hit it stepped onto the rooftop. He wore a red mask and reflective lenses over his eyes. His long ears, however, marked him clearly as “not of this world.”

“Hunter Zachariah here,” He grumbled into his communicator, “I’ve tracked that weird energy signature Hunter Malcolm mentioned. All I found was one of the costumed vigilantes known as a “scrapper” by most of the local community.”

There was no reply audible to most ears, but he nodded all the same.

“Yes, sir,” he finally said, “I will investigate this anomaly personally. Hunter Zachariah, out.”

(He could've blamed Scirroco for that one, too)

I don't know how many people have seen this sort of thing:

Combat Wall Flypaper

I did this a couple months back, and just thought it was hilarious. The Rikti stuck to the wall was still "alive" and I finished him off shortly after taking down his friend. What was cool was that the baddie didn't seem to be able to move...

Lord Recluse: "I think the reason why I turned to villainy is because... *sniff* my daddy never hugged me. Mako... Hug me!"

Mako: "No. No! NO! That is a BAD evil Lord Recluse! GUYS! Why the Hell do I keep getting all the weird stuff!? I mean, COME ON! Black Scorpion is RIGHT THERE!"

Black Scorpion: "I told ya, man... I'll hug you."

Scirroco: "When exactly did I wind up in this parallel dimension, and what portal do I have to crawl through to go home?"

Lord Recluse: "Don't act like you don't love it, Mako! HUG MEEEEEEEE!"

“Thanks for the ride, Roland…”

The group composed of Sheldon Wallace, Jared “Draven” Simms, and Roland Grey exited a small family car outside of the Wallace residence in Kingdale, New York. Immediately, the sounds of machinery running and grinding, and the smell of burning was evident.

Roland’s nose twitched a couple times and he shook his head.

“I’d love to see what progress your old man’s makin’, Shel, but I got other things to take care of. I’ll see you all in a little bit.”

Jared and Sheldon nodded and said their goodbyes as Round got back into his car. They made their way to the barn behind the house as Roland drove away.

“Whaddaya think he’s up to?” Draven asked.

“Probably getting more clothes and furnishings for his apartment,” Sheldon replied, “Maybe also settling things with whoever he got to run the bar… Maybe all of his personal business.”

“Whew… Good thing I didn’t have to deal with anything like that.”

“Benefit of working for a large company…”

They entered the massive metal barn that Sheldon’s father, Hector, had built after the reconstruction. Inside, pieces and parts from many of the senior Wallace’s many projects, both old and new, were strewn about, forgotten. It wasn’t that Hector was finished with them, it was just that they were overshadowed by the current project taking up most of the room in the barn.

“Holy…” Sheldon gasped.

An Arachnos Flyer, in all of its crimson trimmed ebony glory, sat partially disassembled on the main floor. Daren “Solo” Simms and James “Ragin” Baker were busy cutting panels out of the Flyer’s armor. A Fort Drum officer was conferring with Hector on the floor.

“Relax, Major,” Hector’s voice was calm, but subtly enthusiastic, “How long has the U.S. military been looking to get one of these things and set to work reconstructing them… With our own… personal… aspects, of course.”

“I don’t question the fortuitous nature of this,” The major replied, “Nor your expertise I this field… It’s other issues I’m concerned with.”

“The price?”

“We’ve been needing an Infiltrator Unit for years,” the major hissed, “And now, we have one, and you want to cut it up like this? We need agents in that damn ‘City of Villains,’ and this would be the easiest way to do it!”

“Quickest,” Hector corrected, “And by far, most reckless. This is a 'give a fish/teach to fish’ moment. What happens if this particular flyer gets shot down or your agents get discovered, hm?”

“Well…”

“Daren! No don't cut that panel any deeper... start work on that forward bulkhead. James! Start working on the stinger’s armor plates,” Hector turned back to the major, “Surely, you understand the importance of this.”

“I do…”

“Major, I will provide the Army with a full schematic blueprint as soon as we’re done. You know I am, if anything, prudent.”

“I’m going to be sending down my own team, daily,” the major replied, “I want my boys getting practical working knowledge as soon as possible. We need to be able to reconstruct one of these things and fast. Arachnos won’t know what hit it, and we’ll be able to start work on taking those islands back in the name of freedom.”

Hector stared silently back at the major.

“Right,” he finally intoned, “In the name of freedom…”

The major left and Hector regarded the newcomers.

“Sheldon! How have you been, son?”

“I’ve been doing alright, dad,” the younger Wallace nodded, “Building things, busting up bad guys with said things… It’s been fun.”

“Ah, impetuous youth,” Hector turned to Draven, “Thanks for bringing him. I want to make a lot of progress tonight, and I know we’ll be able to do it, now.”

“No problem,” Jared shrugged, “So… When’s lunch?”

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

“Hey, Roland,” the bartender kept wiping down the counter.

It had been a slow day, and the only barfly remaining was on the far end, out of earshot and absorbed in himself. Roland waved to the guy and sat down in front of his replacement.

“I’m not going to be able to help ya,” Roland replied, “I’ve… I’ve got a pretty solid gig, Mike.”

Michael Flechette nodded and continued wiping the bar down. He gave the barfly one last drink and came back to his friend.

“So, what’s her name?”

“You know I wouldn't make an important decision based on that,” Roland replied, “Though, oddly, a woman is sort of the reason why I’m stickin around up there…”

Michael chuckled a little at that, “Hey, it’s cool, man. You get to do what so many of us wish we could do, and so few of us get the chance to. I know somewhere in that ‘cro-magnon’ head of yours, you like it all.”

“Heh-yeah…” Roland agreed, “I guess I do. Still… A large part of me wishes I could just come back to workin’ at the bar.”

“Nobody would hold that against ya. Y’know… I never met a family like yours before. I mean, I thought Ced was a fluke when we were fighting the Rikti together, a guy who seemed to just naturally kick the tar out of everything that came his way. Then I met your dad, your sister…”

“You should see my mom,” Roland grinned, “The legend goes my dad fell in love the second she knocked him flat on his back with a solid punch to the chin.”

“Jebus…” Michael laughed, “So… You need any help packing up?”

“Nah. I came by to let you know what’s up and to drop off my current info. I’m putting the house up for rent… No sense in nobody living in there, right?”

“Right man.”

Roland left a business card on the bar and headed for the door.

“We’ll be having a get-together at the Wallace’s at the end of the week. You know, old friends, last time meeting for some of us… You know.”

“Friday?”

“Saturday.”

“Cool,” Michael looked to a nearby calendar, “Yeah, I’ve got that day off. See you there, man.”

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

Sheldon walked into the kitchen as the other boys were finishing dinner. He looked exhausted, but for once, he also seemed to have a smile cracking his porcelain face.

“I finally did it,” he gasped, “I cut that damn stinger off.”

The rest of the group just stared at him for a while.

"Just the Stinger?" Ragin James asked dubiously.

"No, the whole damn thorax section."

“You don’t think…” Hector was on the brink of either laughing or shouting, “You don’t think that was a tad excessive?”

“Dad, this thing has technology that we need to get to the heart of. If we want the resulting U.F.O. we make to look like an Arachnos Flyer, it’s a simple matter to utilize some form of holographic generation device to mask the vehicle’s appearance. Besides, I took careful notes as I worked. I just hated that damn thing… I mean, I get the point of it, now, but Arachnos could have used a lot of other appearances for the stinger’s purpose. Those guys are just a tad screwy in the head if you ask me. A stinger is just impractical. There’s so much more they could’ve done with the lost space.”

“Oh…” Hector looked a little confused, “Okay. You ready for dinner? Your mother cooked up some lemon-pepper chicken.”

You know what this tower needs? Some kittens.

(These things are starting to make my brain bleed...)

But I brok outta da zigg because that place was teh suxxorz, and now Im in the Roge Ilses, tarin it up!

"Correct me if I'm mistaken.... But it seems I have morons on my payroll..."

Ooh... Dice...

*Roll-roll-roll*

Damn, that sux...

*Re-roll-roll-roll*

Smiles at mousetrap snapping up the life of yet another of the little critters...

Oops...

Mkay, here we go...

Name: N00b Busta!
AT: Blaster
Primary: Assault Rifle
Secondary: Energy Manipualtion

Bio:
D00d, I had to us the rifle cuz they wuldnt give me gunz!

Frickin hilarious. I think we need a re-roll, though.

Justin Steel

File image

Justin Steel used to be one of the referees in rotation with Dale Simms. He was also used in many of the stunts that involved "kill the messenger" moments (the moments where the losing competitor beats up the referee out of anger). Perhaps this was why he joined with the Committee after the Arena burned.

The Committee welcomed him with open arms and he started workinga s one of their many clerks. If we could just arrest this man, we could find out where all the money for and from their shady dealings goes...

After the Rikti War, the Committee was hurting for controlling operatives and representatives. Where their recruiting efforts failed, they turned inward to find who among their organization had the tenacity to handle the rigors of open combat and the tact and diplomacy to deal with the various quasi-legal and downright illegal groups they worked with.

Justin, surprisingly, had just what they were looking for. After a record-breakingly short training period, Justin was assigned his first operative and one of the most important assignments in the works: "Prove the worth of the Committee to Arachnos."

He also has a tertiary assignment to locate and eliminate any former bWo members he can find. His loyalty seems to be to the Committee, and our agents have had no luck in bringing him in for questioning.

The Shadowmark Assassin

File Image

This individual's real name is Mark Daniels.

The original bWo character was simply named Assassin, as Mark was a very unimaginative player. However, he was skilled at the fighting, and provided yet another perennial "jobber" for the group to whomp on aside from Psycho13.

After the group fell apart, Mark was quickly enveloped into the ranks of the Committee. It is believed that during the course of his work as a Committee Agent, he came across a relic like Solo Stryker's "Rings of the Moon Strider" called the "Bracers of Obtenebration," which grant the corruptor control over dark energies even more versatile than Project Soultaker's attacks.

He utilized these powers to augment his already disturbing skill with his assault rifle, and rapidly climbed the ranks of the Committee's agents. Eventually, he joined Shadowmark, a Committee aligned organization.

So far, we've ben unable to find any information on this company called "Shadowmark." It has been theorized that the company doesn't actually exist, and that Mr. Daniels covers for himself by saying a supposedly shadowy organization simply grants him his contracts. Why he wouldn't jsut stick with the Committee is an unknown, but perhaps he gets more work from more versatile clients in this fashion.

Currently, he's been assigned by the Committee to assist Justin Steel in any way he can. They seem to be hunting Ragin james, Solo Stryker, and Dirty Ice.

Project Soultaker

File Image

The real name of this individual is unknown.

Project Soultaker is one of the Committee's supervillains assigned to the Rogue Isles. Where the original bWo character was another martial artist, this one seems to be capable of dark energy assault and fire manipulation. It's a support character for the Committee's other agents in the area under the direction of Justin Steel.

Project Soultaker says little, if anything, and seems to have an inhuman unwavering devotion to the Committee's goals. Surveillance still continues, but we're having trouble digging up anything on this monster.

Psycho13

File Image

Ugh... this was the best Draven could get me...

This "hero's" real name is Levi Baker.

Psycho13 functioned as the perennial "rag-doll" of the bWo. Typically, he was slated to lose his matches, and usually spectacularly so. In practice, he was often the guy used to experiment with new maneuvers and stunts, simply because he was the lightest.

Oddly, he enver seemed to have a problem with any of it.

No, what bothered him was that he felt the group didn't have enough matches per event, so he dreamed up a schism. Mind you, this was when he was still coherent enough to help write scripts with hsi friends. He dreamed up the idea of Whirlwind, a masked martial artist, and would fight twice per event. When Whirlwind was unmasked as Psycho13, he tried taking a turn as a heel/villain character that supposedly merged the two psyches, Soultaker.

Eventually, the Soultaker moniker was dropped toward the end of their high school years so Levi could have more fun. He felt his character was ineffective as a villain (they didn't have enough players for "Committee loyalists"), so he returned to being Psycho13.

Shortly before the Kingdale Arena fire, however, he disappeared. It's been confirmed by Project Whirlwind that he was being held in a Committee facility in northern New York, just outside of Syracuse. There, they tortured, drugged and experimented upon the poor young man. They forced out of him "Project Ideas," like he was a one-man think-tank. With his notions, and the Committee's funding and technical application, who knows what kinds of villains were unleashed upon our world?

Project Whirlwind, however, turned coat and helped release Levi Baker. The young man, in his delerious state, then found a genetic alteration serum in one of the facility's labs, and injected himself. The result is the modern Psycho13, a lunatic capable of taking a shotgun blast to the head and not only keep moving, but regenerate his body as if he had never been hurt to begin with. He and Project Whirlwind burned the facility to the ground. Nothing was recovered from the site, as nobody knew to check for such things at the time and the Rikti Invasion occured shortly afterward.

Little is known of the adventures the two renegade heroes embarked upon, but they seemed to precede Draven Erickson in arriving in Paragon City by mere weeks. The two quickly joined up with him and have been surprisingly focused on helping Draven reconstruct the bWo as a supergroup to take down the Committee's operations...

It should be noted that Psycho13 may not be what he appears. Though it was through the efforts of Draven Erickson that he has been registered as a qualified Freedom Corps hero (Draven filled out much of the paperwork), Psycho13 still had to pass a psychiatric evaluation. Our records indicate he passed this with flying colors.

This tells us that he either wrote correct answers on a fluke, or that his behavior is strictly an act, as if he feels he's still playing a role in the bWo's adventures. In either case, we have agents tracking his progress.

Psycho13 is registered as a "claws/regeneration scrapper," but his claws are actually a set of knives duct-taped together and fit between his fingers. His regeneration seems to be the real deal, however, and he's proven exceptionally adept at ransacking Vahzilok zombies. So far, his motivation seems to genuinely be helping the civilians of our fair city.

“Let me get this straight…”

Dirty Ice, Solo Stryker, and Ragin James were sitting in a motor boat around five hundred yards northeast of the Arachnos base in Bloody Bay. Solo Stryker had been planning this heist for months, and the time had come to put the plan in action. However, he needed the support of his two closest allies in the Rogue Isles, and in a situation like this, it wasn’t a sure thing…

“You want us,” Dirty Ice paused for a second and snickered a little at the absurdity of what he was about to say, “to help you steal an Arachnos Flyer.”

“That’s right,” Solo replied as he opened a case at his feet and started fiddling with something inside, “I think the three of us can do it and get the thing out of here and to someplace safe.”

“Ye-heah, right,” Ice shot back, “I’m pretty sure those dipwads are gonna notice their Flyer suddenly going the wrong [censored] way! And you know what else? They’re gonna come after whoever did it! Hard! They’ll send some of those other crazies after us, not just those black armored troopers with no peripheral vision.”

“I know,” Daren agreed quietly.

“Then what the Hell are we doing this for!?”

“Freedom,” Solo replied and pulled a partially constructed rifle from the case, “To make a statement… To provide a means for people like us to escape the yoke of Arachnos… Especially people like us.”

“Whadaya mean?” Ice growled.

“We’re not criminals,” Daren explained, “Not like a lot of those other guys… We don’t hurt people for fun… Well, Rage and I don’t… I don’t know about you, Dirty…”

“Oh, I’ve hurt people for fun,” Matt smiled deviously, “But, trust me, they all deserved it.”

“But you know what I mean,” Solo fit the barrel onto the trigger housing and started pressing the fastening pins into place.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you want to go home?”

“Maybe,” Ice shrugged, “I know I’d like to be able to go home…”

“Well, let’s have the means.”

Ragin James, who had been listening to his friends quietly finally pointed at Solo’s rifle.

“You expect to take a Flyer down with that?”

Solo smirked, then reached into the case and retrieved a black tipped bullet. It glistened in the sun slightly as he rotated it, then he promptly slapped it into the chamber.

“That,” he said before the other two could say anything, “Was the OTTO MCRC-E. This is a specially housed one… being that it’s housed inside a bullet. As opposed to its more common brethren, which are designed to fly autonomously to their targets and attach surreptitiously…”

“Huh?” Ice asked.

“It means secretly,” Rage explained.

“Oh, okay…” Ice turned blankly to Stryker, “Please, continue.”

“…Thanks… This type is designed to be fired from a rifle, like this, and catch up to a very rapid target… I.E…. An Arachnos Flyer.”

“What happens then?” Rage rested his hand idly on the motor, his hand near the rip cord in case they needed to make a hasty escape.

“Then, I flick on this wrist controller, as the OTTO MCRC-E takes control of their ship and hands it over to me.”

“It’s…” Rage suddenly sat up in surprise, “That’s a remote control?”

“Yeah. An aggressive type.”

“You’re sure this will work?” Dirty Ice grunted in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Solo gazed to the Arachnos Fort, “I’m sure it’ll work.”

They sat quietly for a few seconds. The sound of one of their quarry lifting off and flying to the east toward Cap Au Diable echoed back to them and signaled that there was a very strong possibility more rogues had arrived in the area. Solo stared meaningfully at his compatriots.

“I’m still going to try this, guys,” he flicked on a radio at his hip, “I’ve got Draven out there, too, and he’s got Slater and Psycho backin’ him up. We pull this right… Who knows what we can accomplish…”

Rage nodded as he looked to his two friends, “Alright. I’m in. I came to these islands expecting to find my brother in some [censored] up Committee facility, instead, I just found a bunch of lunatics trying to take over the world. I want outta here, and fast.”

Solo nodded, then turned to Ice.

“I don’t know, man,” the blonde brute replied, “I kinda got good things goin’ here…”

“How long will that last?” Daren hissed, “How long until you’re wrapped up in another scheme of Arachnos? How long until they throw you to the wolves to cover their butts? And what do you bet those wolves aren’t Longbow?”

“Look, man,” Ice started shaking his head, “I’m not saying you’re wrong… But a guy can do well out here if he keeps to the down-low and avoids the major authority…”

“They won’t let you do that!” Solo snapped a look back to the Arachnos fortress, “Look at that! We had to get here through them! Sure, the other rogues in these islands think they’re free, but I can see plain as day that we’re being held under the yoke of the Spiders. They want us to serve them, and they’ll twist us any which way they can to make it happen. If that doesn’t work… Well, they’ve got plenty enough firepower, tech, magic, mutant, whatever, to make it happen…”

“And you want us to go straight up against it all?” Matt crossed his arms over his chest, “You’re still not selling me, man.”

“I’m not saying we go up against it,” Solo calmed down and held his palms toward his friend in a calming gesture, “I’m saying we establish a means of circumventing it. We’re not the only rogues like us out here. There’s plenty that want to get away from these bastards…”

“Yeah, you said that.”

“Well, if we provide the means…” Solo smiled and started rolling his hands in the air.

“They’ll…” realization dawned on Matt, “Oh-hoo-hoo-hoo… They’ll owe us!”

“That’s a lot of protection on our end,” James agreed, “A lot of support Arachnos would actually be leery of going up against.”

“All we have to do is win here,” Solo raised the rifle and shrugged to his friends, “Now… Are you in?”

“Yeah,” Ice pointed to the beach to the west, “Crash ‘em there. Rage and I’ll burst out of the woods and put the hurt to the troops inside!”

Ragin James started flying in the direction indicated as Dirty started hopping through the waves. Solo switched on the motor and headed to the southeast. When he was in position, he could see the black dot of one heading in. Though he was leery of taking down an inbound helicopter, he suddenly got a paranoid thought that they might notice him and have troops sent to deal with him on arrival.”

“Not much chance when I’m in my shadow mode,” Daren said to himself, “But I don’t know what kinds of scanners those things have… They might actually be able to see me…”

With these thoughts in mind, he took aim…

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“Okay, gentlemen,” the pilot announced to his passengers, “In a moment, we’ll be landing and…”

He was interrupted by a strange “THUNK” sound.

“Odd… It seems something hit us… No heroes in range… Hm…”

The vehicle suddenly lurched to the right.

“WOAH! What the—“

The ship lurched again, and suddenly started shaking violently. The Arachnos troopers started shifting nervously. The passengers, however, started clipping on their crash webbing and sat calmly in their seats. The troopers didn’t know what bothered them more, the fact that their normally smooth flying vehicle was out of the pilot’s control, or that the “super villains” with them weren’t bothered by it.

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“Draven Erickson…” Agent Eckman snapped in a disgusted tone of voice, “I cannot believe you would suggest I do something so… ridiculous.”

“Believe what you will,” Jared replied, using his best mysterious tone, “But I’ve told you what I know, how it will go down, and what’s at stake. Help me and my friends or not, we’re getting that hulk home.”

“Not if I don’t allow it,” she seemed resolute.

“Maybe if I explain matters,” Dustin Simms, King Slater to most others, interjected, “You see… our friends… in fact, my brother Daren, and that guy’s brother…”

He gestured to Levi Baker, Psycho13, who seemed to be dry-humping the tire of the helicopter that brought them in…

“…James… They’re not bad guys. They went to the Rogue Isles looking for something… Something bad… and try to put a stop to it. They didn’t find it, but now they’ve got no way of getting home…”

Eckman’s face softened, but she still seemed unconvinced.

“Look,” Draven got in her view again, “We’re not asking for troops here… We just need you to keep the guns off of us while we make our escape. We’ll also need clearance codes to get into the States…”

“No!” Eckman shot him down harshly, “You’re asking me to give secure information to bring an Arachnos machine into U.S. soil. It’s not happening Draven. It’s too risky. I mean, what if that Flyer has some sort of surveillance equipment, huh? Arachnos will get our passcodes, and then even more Arachnos troops will be knocking on Paragon City’s doors.”

“Oh yeah,” Dale Simms snorted, “Like they haven’t already got too many in there already…”

“Shut it!” Eckman shouted, “Draven… You give me credible evidence that you’re able to bring that machine in… I’ll see what I can do.”

“Fine. Here’s my communicator’s frequency. I’ll keep in touch with you.”

The group took off in different directions, Draven to the southeast, Slater and the Referee to the southwest, and Psycho13 and Project Whirlwind heading east. Draven keyed his communicator to Solo’s frequency to try to find out how the situation was.

“I shot one down, cuz,” Stryker replied, “You gotta meet Dirty and Rage on one of the northeast beaches to help take it!”

Frantically, Draven redirected his comrades, and they sped to the crash site.

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

The Flyer feel hard, birds throughout the forest scattered from their treetop dwellings and Dirty Ice waited in the shadows of the canopy. The doors of the machine popped open and Arachnos troopers started staggering out. One of them found the OTTO MCRC-E Daren had shot into the hull and cursed. It would be the last thing he would do before being violently sent to the Arachnos reclaimator.

Dirty Ice, body blazing with mystical fire, leapt from his hiding place, cleared the few hundred feet between him and the troopers, and brought his heavy, stone-wrapped maul down on the would-be detective’s head. The trooper fell without so much as a grunt, and Ice, screaming loudly, turned his attention to the other troopers, smashing first this one, then that one. When his hammer failed him, he simply let it go and turned to his trusty fists, unleashing a flurry of blows that would make most boxers proud. After dealing out damage in such a way, he’d turn back to the hammer, a weapon that was bound to him so it could not be wielded by another, and again crush some poor enemy’s head, chest, or legs.

Once he was done smashing the troopers all to Hell, he surveyed the carnage. The bodies started disappearing, one-by-one, as the troopers were teleported back to the Arachnos fortress’s reclaimators. Matt turned to the Flyer’s open door and started walking toward the downed machine.

“Was that all they’ve got inside that thing? Cripes! I don’t need Rage for this! Hell, I’ll fly the damn thing myself! Jebus… Look at this thing… It’s got turrets everywhere… and…”

He saw movement inside and stopped. There were more than just Arachnos troopers in there, and they had finally decided to make their presence known. When Dirty Ice saw them, though, he let loose a curse that can’t even be mentioned as a “[censored].”

“Hello, Dirty,” the business suit-clad Justin Steel stepped out of the Flyer and into the light, his Committee assigned operatives following to flank him protectively, “It’s good to see you again.”

“Steel…” Ice gripped his hammer tighter, “Come on… out of there you kids… Who else is with ya?”

“Another old friend,” Justin replied as he straightened his suit, “And someone you may recognize, but you won’t know him.”

The other two villains stepped into the light, both dressed in black, but in far different styles. The one to Justin’s left was in mostly black, and dark tones besides. On his head rested a cowboy hat that was a stark contrast to his bright blonde hair. His leather jacket, pants, and even his boots were all black. The Shadowmark Assassin held at his waist one of the weird “combo assault rifles” that some of the blaster types wielded. Matt wasn’t sure, but he could’ve sworn he saw the shadows moving around the guy.

The other looked more like a ninja. His uniform was black and white, a sinister faux-fire pattern wrapped around the legs and it’s shirt was plated with white armor pads. Dirty couldn’t tell who the man was, however, because the figure wore a mask to match the suit.

“Well, I know that tool,” Matt said to the Assassin, “Didn’t you used to fight with us in bWo?”

“Yeah,” he replied as he arrogantly rested his rifle on his shoulder, “Kicked your [censored] plenty of times in that ring.”

“What the Hell do you do now? The Committee?”

“I’m an assassin in Shadowmark’s employ.”

“What the Hell is Shadowmark?”

“It’s so secret, nobody’s heard of it,” the assassin smirked.

“Uh huh… Mark…” Ice shook his head and pointed at the ninja, “You! I’ve seen that look before, but you can’t be Levi. I already heard where he is, and you can’t be him.”

“Indeed,” the ninja replied, “I am but the creation of his nightmares, made flesh. As it is a role to be played, I shall play it for now. Perhaps, one day, the Committee shall retrieve your friend so he may once again assume his rightful role as their agent… The Project: Soultaker!”

“Oh yeah,” Matt gripped his stomach as if he had indigestion, “I needed that…”

“Enough,” Justin raised his hand and pointed at Dirty Ice, “Gentlemen, let us prove the Committee’s worth to Arachnos. Kill him.”

“Heeyah!”

Ice rushed Justin’s goons. There were three troopers and two special service types. One of the troopers fell fast, but Ice took a hail of bullets hard to the torso. The flames barely stopped him from getting perforated and killed on the spot, and the pain only made him angrier…

“Rage! Where the Hell are you!?”

The Shadowmark Assassin and Project Soultaker hadn’t acted yet, which was fortunate for Dirty. Had he been hit by their combined dark energy attacks, he probably would never have survived the fight. They seemed content to simply watch Ice get torn to pieces by Justin’s goons. This careless attitude would prove to be their undoing.

The opposite door on the Flier popped open, and Ragin James stormed through, electricity crackling off the skulls on his chest and shoulder. He smashed his forearms into Justin Steel’s back, slamming his curled up fists into the back of his neck, and immediately snapped around to the Shadowmark Assassin. One uppercut later, and the leather-clad corrupter was hurtling through the air.

Before James could get to Project Soultaker, however, Psycho13 was there. A gold and blue streak was all he noticed before Soultaker was knocked backwards and started tumbling toward the beach.

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Psycho13 screamed at his enemy, “YOU! You [censored]! I’ll teach you to take my mind!”

Knives were in his hands, and he was trying to stab the Committee agent, but the blades kept impacting the armor plates. Finally, a burst of negative energy knocked him off the corrupter, and a gout of magic fire seemed to fix whatever damage had been done. Project Soultaker stood again, but he now faced very bad odds.

Lightning arced out of the sky and jolted another of Justin Steel’s guards, and Ice wiped out one of the special ops operatives. Then, Draven Erickson, King Slater, and the Kingdale Referee were there. The three villains were no match for the combined might of the bWo heroes and rogues, and the Shadowmark Assassin and Justin Steel hobbled off before they could be trounced. Soultaker, however, was not so lucky.

Ragin James power-bombed him into a rock.

“You guys can do whatever else you feel like doing,” he grumbled as he started heading into the Flyer, “I got what I’m after.”

Inside, the pilot was screaming something about how he’d blow them all to kingdom come. His cries were suddenly cut short as Solo Stryker quietly put him to sleep with a choke hold and his Rings of the Moon Strider did the rest. In another minute, after some twitching and choking sounds, the body was disappearing to the nearby fortress’s reclaimators.

“Now, come on, guys,” Solo yelled as he hopped in the pilot seat, “We gotta get moving, and we don’t have much time!”

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“So…” Sheldon Wallace sipped a coffee that had been handed to him by Roland as they listened to Draven’s outlandish tale, “I’m supposed to believe you guys successfully stole an Arachnos Flyer… And not only brought it to Longbow authority, but all the way to the States and here in Paragon?”

“No…” Draven shrugged, “There’s no place safe we know of in paragon… not even these bases… ANd it wasn't easy, either. Solo couldn't get the turrets working and James had to drain a chaingun we found inside to keep pursuit at bay. If Eckman hadn't called those Longbow and COast guard helicopters off of us, we would've been blown out of the sky, too. That little stunt cost, su, though. Psycho, Slater and Whirlwind are gonna be patrolling Bloody Bay while the rest of us fix the machine.”

He looked from side to side sheepishly, shifting weight from one foot to another as he did so.

“So, where’d you take it?” Roland asked.

“Back to Kingdale…”

“What!?” Kipland Durj barked, “Are you crazy?”

“Well,” Draven nodded, “Yeah… You are talking to a former backyard wrestler who used mysticism to boost his performance…”

The Grey’s Army heroes simultaneously rubbed their temples in irritation.

“There’s nowhere safe to store something like that in Kingdale,” Sheldon muttered.

“Sure there is.”

Sheldon’s face, despite unflinching, suddenly seemed more serious as it snapped up to regard Draven, “Jared… You… You can’t possibly mean…”

“Dale said it would be safe with him…”

“No…”

“What’re you guys talking about?” Kip demanded.

“They took it to the only other person out of Kingdale who could work with that stuff besides me,” Sheldon explained, “The only other person with the military licenses, accreditations and contracts to be qualified to do it…”

“Hector Wallace,” Draven smiled, “Sheldon’s dad.”

Hero: Randall Grey

1)A) Randy already feels bad about having most of his family and friends follow him to Paragon, and they have powers to back themselves up. The last thing he wants is someone who can't handle the situations thrown at him/her getting killed on his account. Especially since he knows people who ARE equipped to handle the situations who've nearly died from these experiences...

2)A) Randy's an angry, angry man. Bad guys who don't realize that he's also got a mean "curve ball" and likes to throw rocks, quickly find themselves on the wrong end of that boulder he chucked at them if they try to hurt someone who isn't in the fight. He hurts them extra slow when they try that stunt, too...

3) B) Police do this all the time. If a domestic disturbance is heard, and reported to the police, they HAVE to investigate. Same goes if they're jsut passing through. As a hero, you have the same responsibility. You don't have to embarass yourself and others, though. You knock on the door and try to speak with the residents.

Villain: Power Breaker

1) D) None of the Above. Power Breaker isn't a 2-D villain. He also isn't a common thug Brute. He virtually has a computer network running through his veins, and can pull up a diagnostic on how to disarm the bomb so as to neutralize the threat of it. He understands that such power is dangerous, and would never dream of seeking such a weapon out, though.

2)C) Power Breaker doesn't like the Rogue Isles. He'll do whatever he can to get the Hell out of there, even if that means helping a 2-D Hero. 2-D Heroes are the worst. They're the types of heroes that believe everybody in the Rogue Isles are sick, twisted, perverted freaks, and while, yes, many of them are, one must remember the falsehood of generalizations. However, 2-D villains are much worse. They ARE the sick, twisted, perverted, and VIOLENT freaks that 2-D Heroes love to stomp. If it's a choice between teh two, Power Breaker would choose the hero over the villain any day. Especially since it brings him one step closer to home.

3)A&C, and maybe a little D) The Rikti are divided. Those that want to either go home or try to make peace on one side, and those that are so ticked off at being beaten, they're blinded by hate. So it's likely that even if you agreed to the plan, you're likely to get assassinated by the other side to further their cause. Besides, if the plan involves you, likely it also involves you dying. Power Breaker has no love for the Rikti. He'd die before he risked killing what small family he has left. So, I guess some of the D is start whomping Rikti butt...

... Funny, that...

Now, to update the last proper bio:

"Wach out fir Groin SMashr!"

You also aren't Essex. For some reason, everybody feels the need to interrupt her...

Yay! More Crom! I was wondering what would happen in this.