Mr_Grey

--Rikti Earth: Forgotten Sanctuary: In Pursuit--

Cory nodded and grinned. Snapping his fingers, he took to the air and tore down the corridor after the androids and robots giving chase to assist their wayward ally.

Ryat66 gleefully hopped after as well. He had dangerous energies swirling around inside his body, and they sought release in a violent way toward bad people that had it coming.

-----------

--Rikti Earth: Forgotten Sanctuary: Main Group--

Randall grumbled at the message, then quirked an eyebrow at the way it came across the screen.

"I think our compatriot, Toy Dispenser, is in a scrap of trouble. Last time I saw a robotic-type talk like he did, his brain was scrambled from age and disrepair, and T.D. didn't look the type to be scrambled by age."

He looked to Acid Zero and Essex.

"If you can handle taking care of yourselves, I'm gonna go check and see what that's all about."

--Rikti Earth: The Forgotten Sanctuary: The Pursuit--

The fleeing machines seemed destroyed or disabled. It was highly unlikely that anything could have survived, much less escaped, that barrage that had filled the corridor. Cory broke the spell pinning him and Ryat66 to the floor and stood once Solid Shot indicated it was safe to do so.

"Well done," he said to the two machines, "Exceptional work. Now, we should probably return to our friends."

"I think I've got a crick in my neck," Ryat66 grumbled and there was an audible metal on metal grinding sound, "Ope! There it goes."

----------

--Alternate Space: En Route to Rikti Earth--

Sheldon chuckled at Acid's comment.

"Twenty-one years? Is that counting time you would regard as being a child? I know I wasn't much concerned with my physiology when I was five..."

Couldn't this trip go by any more quickly?

----------

--Prime Earth: Crey's Folly: Second Malta Group Base--

"Smooth," Kip muttered as he and his friends lowered to the ground with their hands clasped behind their heads, "Real smooth."

"Stay down!" the agents shouted as some moved in to cuff the heroes, "Comply! Comply!"

"Dammit, Nester, I told you to hang back!"

"I did!" the defender replied, "Matt was the one who punted a jerk down the hall..."

"Then you just HAD to blast him with a radiation beam!" the vapor-wrapped scrapper barked back.

"Guys, guys, guys!" Matt shouted, "Calm down or they're gonna start kicking us!"

"That's a good idea!" one Malta Agent chortled and promptly kicked the sword-wielding hero in the stomach.

This had consequences, namely, that Matt now had ownership of someone else's foot. With a twist of the body and a kick to the groin, Matt rolled around and judo-flipped his enemy into some of the approaching foes. Nester then kicked on his Regeneration and Recovery Auras, bathing his compatriots in blue and green light. Suddenly energized, the heroes sprang into action. Ryat99 stepped in front of the group and became a solid block of ice.

As bullets impacted off the tank, the group made a quick plan of attack for what was next. Kip and Nester would take left, Ryat99 and Matt would take right. As soon as the tanker's ice block broke away, they bolted and tore into the flanks of their foes.

When the Malta Group agents started breaking their formation to deal with this new, divided threat, a Gunslinger leveled his pistol on the leg of one of his troops and fired. Few noticed the friendly fire. They noticed when Sarah Grey screamed, however. The terrifying banshee wail tore through their minds and left them all in a quivering mess. Looking back with trepidation, the Malta Group soldiers were treated to what seemed like one of their own leading a blond man in military trousers and futuristic armor, a white-haired girl in a red skirt and a white shirt, and a short, pudgy man in a green jacket with a bow.

The archer fired an arrow into their midst and a large portion of the group promptly fell to the floor. Before he could let fly a fire arrow, however, Kip fired his energy eye beams at it, and the whole group was promptly set ablaze.

"Activate the mediporter! Activate the mediporter!" several agents shouted before promptly disappearing in the blink of an eye.

With a whoop, Cedric leapt into the fray with the last of the Malta Group. With their now filled-out team, the heroes were able to make short work of the last vestige of insurrectionist forces.

"Thanks for the help," Kip muttered to his other-dimensional self, "How'd you know we'd need help?"

"One of the guys in that last base, he's one of our guys. You didn't see him, and he told me you guys were headed for a world of hurt. So, I gathered up these guys."

"You guys are trying to save Daddy, and we're gonna help!" Sarah barked, "And don't give me any of that 'you can't go, you've got better things to do,' [trite]! I had to spend the past evening consoling my Mom! Trust me, if she knew we were doing this, she'd be here, too!"

"Okay," Kip shrugged, "Alright. You got it, Snuffy. Let's amscray."

[ QUOTE ]
It's a door, Khell. It does not need to digest something to eat it.

[/ QUOTE ]

Then might I suggest bad-tasting woods?

Suffice it to say, Maple and Sweetgum are not first choices for this. I would stick to stuff that even termites and beavers flee from.

I've posted another chapter to Grey's Army.

In it, I explore the relationship between Zeke Durj and his Nictus, Androm'Geizzer.

"So, your son had another run-in with the same Void Hunter that tried to take me down."

"I was wondering when you were going to tell me that," Ezekiel said into the mirror, "Any other secrets you're keeping from me?"

"I'm really a size seventeen."

"Try again," Zeke growled, "I've heard from far too many people about the things you've done, and it can't all be lies like you said."

There was a long silence as the gray-haired man finished shaving. He had finished dressing and kissed his sleeping ex-wife on the forehead by the time Androm'Geizzer finally answered him.

"Alright. I'm guilty of about two-thirds, maybe three-quarters of what the Nictus and Kheldians have been saying I did."

"You've got to be freaking kidding me!" Zeke hissed as he closed the door behind himself, "All this time... Were you really in a coma, or were you just waiting for the convenient moment when enough Kheldian heroes I ran into wouldn't fire on sight?"

"I was really unconscious."

Ezekiel whipped up a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and cheese. Eating quietly, he mulled over his options. There had been plenty of successful extractions... Plenty of unsuccessful ones, too.

"Oh, don't be a little wuss," Androm suddenly growled in his head, "I may not have been on the level about what I'd done before, but it was because I considered the information irrelevant."

"I don't."

"I do, and I'll tell you why. Simply put, I'm not the Nictus I used to be. When I was a loyal puppet, I was the monster they wanted me to be. They said go and I went. They said kill, and I killed. They said to make an example... As you can see, I've made quite an example."

"So, that red-and-black armored Arachnos trooper, torn inside out?"

"Yes... I did that. Long before I met you."

Zeke gulped down his orange juice as he fought the dredged up memory back to his subconscious. Androm'Geizzer had been slaughtering people, creatures, and even things that weren't quite creatures, long before he'd met Ezekiel Durj, possibly up to the very day before.

"No, it hadn't been that recent. That was roughly thirty years ago. I believe you were just falling in love with that charming vixen in the other room... Amazing how she's been able to age as well as you. Or is she younger?"

"You shut up about her," Zeke growled threateningly.

"Understandable. I'll keep to information from my end. Chief of which, did you know that Charlene's kheldian has awakened? I'd wager the pretty young lady and her craggy mountain of a husband are aware of it, too."

"Geizzer! Get to the point!"

"I didn't really have one..."

"I mean, what am I to do with you? You're obviously too dangerous to keep within me... Should I see Shadowstar for an extraction?""

"No."

"And why not, pray tell."

Again, the long silence. Either Androm was cooking up a lie, or he was bracing himself to be honest. Zeke finished his breakfast and his ex-wife, Catherine, walked into the kitchen. She was wearing one of his shirts.

"Who were you talking to?" her sultry voice purred as she hugged him.

"My shadow," Zeke replied, "It's not a pleasant conversation."

"Aw..."

"You want me to whip you up something?"

"Nah, I'll make do. I know you've got places to be."

"Alright, Cath," Zeke put his dishes away in the sink and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, "I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Okay."

----------

"She has surprising body, you know?" Androm suddenly said as Zeke leaped through the city, "More... Athletically built than a record company traveling secretary would be, you know?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm not sure... Oh well, it's unimportant to our current situation. You want to know why you shouldn't tell Shadowstar to extract me."

"You have until I get to her in Galaxy City. She said she has a special project for me."

"For us. Alright... What if I were to tell you that I really have changed? That I'm not the monster I was before... Ezekiel... You have to believe me on this. Of anything I've ever told you, this was not a lie."

"I don't believe it."

"Because a few Kheldians told you I slaughtered their friends? Because you remember me doing horrible things to people who most assuredly deserved it? In all my existence, I have not taken one innocent life! I have slain numerous kheldians, and they like to say that it's such a terribly oppressive thing, when they would have easily done the same to me in a micro-second had they the power! Ever wonder why we keep running into Bright kheldians working for the Council? They're not friends of mine, nor of any Peacebringer or Warshade on this forsaken planet. They are just as heartless as I'm accused of, and selling out their kind for the chance to be eaten last."

"That doesn't change what you've done."

"I never said it did. I'm just indicating the difference between them and me. I was a monster. I was a soldier, and a damn good one. I tore my enemies asunder, I laid waste to planets..."

"What was that about innocent life?"

"Dammit, Ezekiel, look at war on your world! You honestly mean to tell me there's been a conflict that lacked collateral damage? Besides... Most of those worlds were either barren or abandoned by the time I was brought in to clean up the mess... In any case! I am trying to explain that what I did, I don't want to do anymore!"

"Why not? You sound like you're reveling in the memories."

"Because, Ezekiel, I... In an act of desperation, a kheldian fled into the body of a young boy. I was ordered to slay the child. It was my host's son. He refused, and I... I had worked with humans numerous times throughout my existence here on earth. Until that moment, the emotions I'd acquired hadn't interfered in my work. However, as I tried to force my host's hand to annihilate the child, I found that the reason why I couldn't lift the arm was because I didn't really want to. We helped the boy and my host's wife escape, and after that, the Council assigned one of their premiere Hunters after me, Zachariah. He didn't kill my host, but he did succeed in dividing us. I was his target, so I'm certain my former host escaped, and it was blind luck Zachariah was so focused on me he didn't notice the hero that sideswiped him before we met. They wanted me to kill a child, Zeke. The people I've slain, they had full lives. Children... Children don't deserve such a fate."

"So, your story about the kheldian you were close with?"

"Not a lie, but 'she' did not reciprocate. I haven't seen her in years. I don't know what happened to her."

Ezekiel was quiet for the rest of the trip to Shadowstar. He didn't know if Androm was certain about the gender designation he applied to the other, but it was probably an issue better left debated at another time and in another setting. When he arrived at the usual meeting spot of his mentor, she was her normal, nervous self. Shadowstar was always nervous around Geizzer, even more-so now that he was awake. Ezekiel waved back and closed the distance between them briskly.

"You're leaping through the air?" she asked, "I saw you round the corner... Why are you altering your gravity when you could just teleport?"

"Trust me, this is easier," he replied, ", Heck, I don't even change forms anymore, I dedicate my energies to more useful powers and skills. So, what's so important you couldn't tell me over the phone?"

"Well, Zeke," she used his name, not the Nictus's, "I don't want to take the chance that the Council will intercept what I have to say. There's been an incident in the Rogue Isles. A Warshade was killed... Well... The host was. We received word from her super group recently about it. However, from our sources in the Isles, we've determined that the Nictus that empowered her has survived, and has been captured by the Circle of Thorns in one of their insidious crystals."

"You want me to bring it back?" Zeke asked.

"Yes. It will be dangerous, but you've faced plenty of dangerous things thus far. I trust you will be able to accomplish this task."

"What aren't you telling me?" Androm's voice suddenly emerged from Zeke's mouth, "Who else is involved?"

"Geizzer..."

"Answer me!"

Shadowstar blinked a couple times at the taller man. Truth be told, if she was certain Ezekiel wanted to be free of his new brain buddy, she would have extracted the Nictus long before now and had it thrown into the nearest prison capable of holding it. However, the gray-haired man before her seemed capable of handling the energy being within him. At least, he did before. She wondered if this outburst from the alien was allowed by the host, or if Ezekiel were losing control. If she knew Zeke had the same concerns, she would probably have ordered an immediate extraction.

"Our intel says Arakhn will be personally claiming the crystal. The Circle seems to be making a bargain with the Council, possibly to gain new hosts for their demons, and they intend to pay her with a Warshade Nictus."

"Fantastic," Zeke grumbled, "I'll call you when I'm done."

"Wait, Zeke..."

"Yeah?"

Shadowstar hesitated. They really needed that other Warshade back, but she worried about whether or not it would be safe with Androm'Geizzer protecting it.

"She'll be fine," Androm finally said through Zeke's mouth, "I promise you, nobody on our side of the line has anything to worry about from me."

"Don't make me regret leaving you in there, Androm," Shadowstar replied coldly, "I will not hesitate to visit upon you the torment you've visited upon so many others."

----------

"I may never be able to redeem myself," the voice of the Nictus seemed to sigh, "I may just be prolonging my lifespan for a short while as I live on inside you, Ezekiel. I can only hope that our time together provides me with the opportunity to prove I've changed my allegiance, but the Peacebringers and Warshades are unlikely to accept me, even then. I've slain many of their friends. They're not about to take any of that lightly, no matter how I help them."

Zeke paused at the blue electrical storm that was the portal to every super base in existence. However, one needed special codes to the bases, they couldn't just travel from base to base at will. The codes were stored in the heroes' communicators, and were broadcast from the devices to alter the portal for one instance, allowing instant transport to the bases the hero had been granted access to. This could be either from codes allowed by the hero's super group, or even temporary codes granted from team leaders to the heroes working with him. There were rumors that the Rogue Isles had a similar system. Zeke keyed in the code for the Brutal Warriors Order's staging area in Paragon City and stepped into the blue light.

When he arrived in the converted factory floor, he found he had been preceded by a gray android. He recognized Solid Shot from the assault on the Rogue Isles to rescue Sheldon Wallace and greeted him cordially. Solid, unlike kheldians, only saw a fellow hero and shook the man's hand with a firm, yet surprisingly painless, grip.

"I heard these guys sometimes beat the crap out of each other and wanted a first-row seat next time they did it..." Solid chortled, "That, and I need a ride to the Rogue Isles."

"Well, that's going to be a while," Draven replied, "you might have heard that our dropship got blasted out of the sky during the second Rikti War... We have a replacement vehicle, but it's a bit slower... It's a fusion-powered trawler."

"You guys are just plain crazy!" the steel-colored android chuckled, "So... What's the wait?"

"The boat's coming back from the Rogues as it is. They had to deliver supplies to Mauthe's island, and Solo and Psycho13 needed lessons in how to pilot the boat from Brother Ringo."

"I don't know how you guys can trust that villain. He may have a Longbow I.D., but he is, first and foremost, one of the enemy."

"He hasn't done anything to any of us, anybody we know, and he hasn't tried to spread mayhem through the city like other rogues in his position have," Draven shrugged, "In the meantime, he takes out the cells of criminal organizations throughout the Etoiles. Real bad egg, that one. Mr. Durj. How can we help you?"

"Well, I'm here for much the same reason as Solid, here, I need a ride. I wouldn't mind checking out this fighting ring i hear you boys have, either. Also, if you could spare it, I might need some support when we finally get started."

"Yeah? Like who?"

"Anybody who can stomach seeing an ugly red-haired woman get pulled inside out," Androm answered.

"Oh, you want Levi, then," Draven answered calmly.

((Solid Shot is property of Khellendrosiic.))

Curiosity has killed many, many cats, Khell.

Humans fare little better, and this is the result when we do.

I thought it seemed to just cut off there.

Can't wait for part 2.

I posted another chapter to Grey's Army.

I should point out, I posted it right before I went to bed this morning, and only just now got around to advertising....

"Fire, how are you doing, girl?" Snuggle Purr asked as her friend woke up.

"I'm okay," she replied, "Just... Just really tired... I can't focus any of my magic."

"That's okay, you'll be alright..."

Snug turned to their captors and hissed.

"What do you want from me?" the Cor Leonis Adjutant asked, "Look, Hunter Zachariah told us to keep you here until heroes came looking for you. We have the usual song and dance, maybe I turn into a wolf or Mitch, here, does..."

"Yo," the shotgun-wielding terrorist waved.

"...And we go back to our regularly scheduled day."

"It's not going to be that easy," the catgirl growled at the cloth-masked villain.

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"You know the muscle relaxant your boss used to keep me from exploding in spikes?"

"Uh-huh."

"It just wore off!"

Fire-Shield dropped to the ground as her partner hunched over and spikes protruded from her skin, quivering slightly. Before the Cor Leonis soldiers could react, the spikes were sent flying in every direction, pinning the soldiers to the walls.

"Ow!" Mitch muttered as he tugged vainly at the spike in his right arm, "What the Hell, cat?"

"Ugh... I'm starting to really regret having chili for dinner," the Adjutant muttered as he faded away, "Dammit... I'm not a wolf."

"Bye boss, see you soon... Rgh... Oh, man! This really hurts!"

"Oh shut up," Snuggle Purr chastised, "You're making me feel bad."

"I'm armed with rubber rounds! I was just here for show!"

"Dammit, now I'm starting to feel bad," the girl murmured.

"Oh, don't feel bad," Mitch replied, "You're just doing what heroes do... And much better than the other guys gave you credit for."

"Aw, thank you."

"Snug," Fire-Shield interrupted, "we gotta get out of here."

The catgirl nodded and they started darting down the tunnel.

"Wait!" Mitch shouted, "Could you at least... Help me with this stake?"

Fire-Shield clenched and opened her hands. She could feel the heat building up on her palms, but it seemed off a little. Not certain what would happen, she threw a burst at the stake. Mitch's arm erupted in flames.

"AUGH!"

"Snuggle Purr! put him out! Put him out!"

"Oh my God!" the soldier shouted, "I'm on fire! I'm on FIRE!"

The catgirl was suddenly there and she stabbed the soldier in the shoulder with one of her spikes. He looked at her angrily, but suddenly stopped.

"Hey, I'm actually feeling pretty good. What was that stuff you injected in me?"

"My spikes have a nerve toxin that sedates my victims and dulls their senses..." Purr explained as she yanked off Mitch's mask and used it to smother the flames, "I hope you don't mind."

"Nah, girl, this is cool..."

Once she had the flames smothered, she yanked the spike out of the wall and the Cor Leonis soldier's arm. Mitch shouted a little, but sat down on the ground once he was free.

"Okay, you girls get on out of here... I'm gonna enjoy these colors..."

----------

"I hope they don't do anything to her," Aaron muttered as they approached the cave entrance, "No tests... Not on her or our kid..."

"Relax, man," Cedric replied, "Have some faith in people. You told 'em to leave her alone, I'm sure they'll leave her alone."

While Kip interrogated the Galaxy trooper in the police precinct and got on the horn with whoever he could from Grey's Army, Aaron had taken Misty to the hospital. At first, they tried to keep quiet about the stopped bullet, but as the doctors continued to ask questions (confused as to why a registered... something... would bring a perfectly healthy pregnant woman into the medical center), the truth about the evening's events became revealed. Aaron was then forced to elicit a promise from the chief examiner that they would NOT delve too deeply into his fiance.

"I just want to wait until after she has the child," the counter-intelligence agent shuddered a little, "You know, before they conduct tests to see if she's psychic."

"Can't say I understand it, myself," McGinty growled, "Frankly, it could be the kid as easily as the mother."

Kip and Cobalt arched their eyes at the other scrapper as he approached the cavern door. Shouting a phrase from a movie, he kicked the door to splinters and marched through. Cedric walked in behind him shouting "This isn't Sparta, it's the Land of the Lost!"

----------

Matt rounded the corner with Nester behind him. The Council were putting up a fight, but it wasn't the fight they were expecting. A couple of times, they had to disarm small explosives. They, oddly, didn't seem to be attached to anything load-bearing, but nobody deployed bombs for no reason.

Matt suddenly rolled across the floor and a spike thunked next to nester's head. He looked back at it, and cursed, then turned to see who the source of the projectile was.

"Oh my god!" Snuggle shouted as she bounded up to Nester, "I'm so sorry!"

"Snugs!" Nester's helmet whirred, clicked, split apart and folded back into the collar of his suit, "You're okay!"

"Is Fire with you?" Kip asked as he emerged from the corridor.

"Yeah, I'm over here... I'm so drowsy, though..."

"That's alright," Kip handed her a cartridge, "Here, the guys at the precinct said this stuff will handle whatever it was that was put in you."

"Thanks," Cathryn replied and winced as she injected herself in the arm as the instructions on the side indicated, "Kip, we better hurry. I think they're trying to clear out of here."

----------

"Hello Mr. Durj." the Void Hunter on the wide screen said cordially, "I am Zachariah. Hunter Zachariah. You and I, Kipland, we have history."

"Don't tell me you're the guy I kicked over the side of that scaffolding last year."

"Yes, but our history actually goes farther."

The fighting throughout the base was actually not nearly as difficult as the assembled heroes had expected. Instead of legions of the Cor Leonis (as Fire-Shield and Snuggle Purr had encountered), they were dealing with ordinary soldiers from the Penumbra and Vortex legions.

The final chamber was unlike any they'd seen before. It looked like a medical lab, and the people in it were either dying or suffering, but the Council doctors left behind had assured the assembled heroes that they could be saved. It was just going to require a lot of the stolen blood they had.

"What were you doing to these people?"

"Well... To explain that, I should explain our history. Mr. Durj, I'm the Void Stalker responsible for your Obsidian Blight."

"What?" the scrapper asked, irritation tinging his voice.

"Early in your career? I was monitoring kheldian activity in Atlas Park when you assaulted me. You kicked my rifle and the next thing I knew, I was in the nearest Council cell with a medical facility. That was not a pleasant experience."

"Well, why didn't anything happen to you?"

"Hm?"

"Why didn't I hear any rumors among the Council about a freak rampaging through one of their fortresses?"

"Probably because I was able to get my implants replaced and repaired," Zachariah brought his arm up to view to reveal a scar, "It was the implant before this one that gave you the Blight. A defective Nictus implant, or even an uncontrolled gem can be disastrous."

"Cripes..."

"We were trying to recreate the conditions here... Each of these individuals has similar physiological characteristics to you. So far, our tests have proven..."

"Failure?" Cedric Grey asked darkly, "This is pretty sick, man. You want to test something life threatening, you test yourself!"

"I was talking to the Anomaly," Zachariah replied calmly, "Now, Mr. Durj, I would like to make the request that you join us. There is much we can do for you, and much we would like to learn from your current condition. I can assure you, the plots, schemes and other little nick-nack problems you've run across from our organization are nothing more than the remnants of the Fifth Column still trying to act out. Those of us who are part of the Council, the true Council, are trying our damnedest to bring these rogue factions in and get the organization on a proper path."

"What path is that?" Kip asked as he narrowed his eyes at the lenses staring back at him.

"I'm not going to spout rhetoric, and I can't tell you the truth unless you agree to join us. Mr. Durj, with your help, we could accomplish much."

"My father taught me a response to questions like this..."

"Ah yes, the Warshade... You should know that Androm'Geizzer is a dangerous-"

"He said, 'son... Get yourself a bat, and break the [butt]hole's kneecap. If he keeps yammering on, break his hand. If he keeps trying to convince you, well, then he's probably worth listening to. The ones just blowing smoke will run before the first swing. The ones without heart will start screaming in terror after the first and second hits."

"What?" the Void Hunter asked, evidently taken aback by the absurdity of Kipland's statement, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm doing the next best thing."

A pair of bright red beams erupted from Kip's eyes and scored into the wide screen. Cedric dropped to his knees and started shouting in despair.

"That was a free plasma screen TV!" he shouted once he was certain he had Kip's attention, "All you had to do was unplug it! We could've taken that thing home, man!"

"Kip," Nester gripped his brother's arm while the Tanker mockingly patted the destroyed monitor, "Dad never said anything like that. He always said to just walk away from strangers with candy... Or run."

"I was shooting my mouth off, bro, they don't know Dad."

"They do, Kip," Nester started whispering, "He was talking about Dad's kheldian... Androm. That weird deep voice that always seems to be commenting on us now?"

"Yeah..."

"Kip, Zachariah wasn't lying. I really think Androm'Geizzer is dangerous."

"It's okay," Cedric murmured as he petted the broken screen like a wounded friend that was near to death, "There's no more pain where you are..."

"You really don't take much of any of this seriously, do you?" Fire-Shield asked as she placed a Detention Field around the monitor, "Guys, we better get a hold of the cops and the medical facility... These people need proper help."

"And you guys are going to help these people until they're better," Snuggle Purr pointed at the Council medics, "Then you're going straight to the Zig. This is just evil!"

"Its going to take total blood transfusions, ten pints minimum, to flush out the S.C.C. infection," the chief explained, "Your hospitals aren't going to do that."

"Of course they will," Kip replied, "They have to. It's the Hippocratic Oath. Neither through action nor inaction are they allowed to let someone die if it's within their power to save them!"

"And it's not within their power to save these people," the medic replied coldly, "We're talking months of treatments, at regular, frequent intervals. That's a lot of blood, Mr. Durj. Frankly, the hospitals just don't have it."

"It's better than leaving them with you," Matt McGinty suddenly shouted, "Look how they did in your care already! Kip, we'll find a way to help, but we are not letting these [butt]holes get away with this!"

"That's right," Kip announced, "You're all under arrest. I suggest you comply."

[ QUOTE ]
Again with these tiny things. Doesn’t this guy have any standards? And where are the big red countdown timers?

[/ QUOTE ]

This one made me chuckle.

Okay, the Inspiration for Randall Grey and much of Grey's Army is, get this: stuffed animals.

When I was a kid, I had this Gund bear that, whenever it got a hole in it, I would stuff with pillow stuffing and just made the bear extra fat (and huggable!). Over the years, after all the kicks, dog-chewings, excessive hugs, tosses across the room and various other brands of torment that only a child who truly loves his teddy bear can deliver, Gundy (My dad named the bear with a mispronunciation of the company name, "Gun-D") wound up taking on the appearance of an animal ready for (and had been through) war.

Subsequently, Charline Daring-Grey is based off my mother. She takes her appearance more from my mom than the plush beaver (which was my first stuffed animal, actually), fortunately. My mom's seen the character and has chuckled at it.

When I was in the Marines I was introduced to webcomics, and sometimes I doodle characters of my own. Since I'm absolutely atrocious at drawing people, I tried to draw the only thing that I could make look reasonably decent.

I haven't tried publishing anything about it, but I do have one of my attempts posted on my DeviantArt page. Yeah, I know. Surprise, surprise.

As I was drawing the characters, I realized that one of my main characters, I couldn't use the name "Gundy." One, I liked the company too much to make this violent and foul-mouthed bear use them as his namesake, and two, they'd probably get mad at me (and I couldn't stand the idea). So, I named him after my dad, since Gundy's personality was, rather directly, based off him.

So, that was the conception of Randall Grey.

Cedric (a white Gund Snuffles bear about the same size as Gundy) is based off my older brothers and cousins. Even if I hadn't been in the Marines, he would have been (they just have that reputation, you know?). He does whatever the Hell he wants with no regard for the consequences. The only concern he really has is that everybody's having as much fun as him...

Sarah (a tiny white Snuffles Bear and so freaking adorable you just have to hug it) is somewhat based on my sister, but she's also based on a childhood friend of mine whom her human appearance is largely based on.

Roland was based off a zoo bear that my brother and I just fell in love with. He just looked like a tiny blob of pudge that needed to be hugged. He became our fourth favorite stuffed animal overnight. He started as the eldest son of Sarah (who was 25 at the time of my brother's and my storyline at the time, but I tossed that out the window when I made the concepts for my webcomic). Thinking I needed a character to embody the sort of person I wish I was in highschool, Roland became a stoic, understanding individual. The only time he ever loses his cool is when someone says anything disparaging about his sister or is being obtuse to a fault (such as when the offensive line refused to cover the new quarterback, Joe Durnan), and it's only for as long as it takes to get the message across.

The Durj family weren't originally, nor ever were, stuffed animals and are actually the oldest characters from my tormented mind. They started out as hand puppets, in that they were just my brother and I manipulating our hands into "bird shapes" and opening and closing our hands as we talked. Nester wound up embodying me as the observer (though his City of Heroes personality is much more proactive). He also wound up taking the brunt of the physical abuse as a teenager, but he returned, punch-for-punch and kick-for-kick, everything he received.

Kip stayed pretty much the same. He was tough-as-nails at inception, and never really changed. Sheldon started out as his twin brother, but I figured he would work better elsewhere.

Zeke has been the same ever since my brother and I generated him. He's an ideal father, strong enough to beat up any other dad and level-headed enough to handle raising two boys on his own.

So, the characters I have in-game are much different from their original forms, but that's the inspiration behind them.

----------

The Brutal Warriors Order are based off my friends, my brother, me, and a spat of backyard wrestling we did while in high school. Like many others, we laughed at the other idiots who did it at the time, but one day, after playing backyard football after a day of snowdrifts, we started slamming each other in the eight-feet-deep ditch that was now so full of snow it was level with the road.

Shortly after having fun doing power bombs, body slams, frog splashes and elbow drops, most of us retired for the afternoon. We were probably twenty minutes into relaxing in the "Simms" house when "Draven Erickson" realized his cousin, "King Slater" and my brother "Ragin' James" weren't around. We went outside to see if they needed help with something and saw that they were choreographing their own little match.

After that, we tried to make it a weekly event. We even built a ring, a staging area, and videotaped ourselves beating the tar out of each other. Sometimes stunts didn't work, sometimes we had equipment malfunctions (the turnbuckles had a nasty habit of popping off the ring posts until we wired them to their hooks).

The characters Project Soultaker, Project Whirlwind, and Psycho13 are based off my characters in that time. I had alt-itis at an early age...

Soultaker and Whirlwind's personalities are their own at this point, though. Psycho13 is largely how I remember myself back in high school.

----------

The rest of my characters I make up largely on the fly, but Agent Wyld is supposed to be me, now, and even he's run away from me a little (I'm not that bulked up).

Blizzard Front is basically Sub Zero in terms of how I think about him as I play, but he's supposed to be based off the current attitudes and behaviors of my friends. Ashen Roast, his best friend, is the converse of a lot of that.

Snuggle Purr is a catgirl. I figure everybody tries to make a catgirl or some other kind of anthropomorphic at some point. I figured this would be an interesting twist to the concept, since she's highly affectionate, but explodes in spikes. It's not uncontrollable (she actually has superb control over her powers), but it's kind of nifty to see this cute, shapely, orange and fuzzy girl suddenly explode in spikes when shouting "Hug me!"

I just wish I could fight the urge to scrub my eyes out with bleach every time I play as her.

Mider Caid is my idea for a wizard, although this is a far younger version of him than I've conceived before. My other iterations of the character (in my mind) usually involved a wiry old man with most of his hair missing (indeed, it hangs from his head in clumps of strands). I don't really have a use for the character except I just really like the name.

----------

Finally, the Air Guard named officers are all the last names of Marines I worked with or under the command of while I was a Marine. Flight Officer MacAuliffe is named after one of my old roommates (poor guy only knew me while my mind was still in transition, but he helped to ease me to a much more stable state). Captain Sonnethavilay is named after one of my favorite officers to work for. Finally, Captain Rachek is named after a Master Gunnery Sergeant in my last unit who would celebrate a promotion with a headbutt to the collar (ramming the points of the new chevrons deep into the clavicle).

Captain Carter is actually a unique character with no basis. I think he's just every action hero rolled into one, including Clint Eastwood's stoic Bill Munney from Unforgiven for his attitude.

((Can we post the inspiration behind our characters, too, Devious?))

I've updated Air Guard.

Captain Carter shouted at the recruits scrambling through his challenge course. Some of his advanced students were assisting him. Their approach was similar to that of Army and Marine Basic Training Instructors. He wished he had a Navy Instructor in the bunch to round things out, but there hadn't been one that had passed thus far, yet.

Carter anticipated that in a week, he would have the force he needed for their first "Supernatural" exercise. He hoped no heroes or rogues wound up cleaning out that Circle of Thorns lair. From the intelligence he gathered, the denizens were just a small, unimportant group. They were just starting to excavate their section of Oranbega and weren't in a position to make any raids, either, so they shouldn't be drawing any attention.

"How goes it?" Captain Rachek asked as he marched up next to Carter and observed the exhausted looking soldiers, "Cripes, they look about as useless as a urine-flavored lollipop."

"They're doing better than they should," Carter replied, "I'm going to have to run a sweep to see if somebody's sneaking them food."

One of the recruits got knocked off the deck of the oil tanker by an air cannon trap. The Instructors laughed and an advanced student leaped into the water to recover the recruit.

"Get him to medical, make sure he clears for training!" Carter shouted to Flight Officer MacAuliffe.

Captain Rachek leveled his rifle at a point above a recruit's head and fired. The distressed young man dropped as the bulelt pinged off the steel next to him and curled up into a little ball there.

"Keep your head down!" the grizzled old man shouted, "The enemy will actually be aiming at your grape!"

"Mac!" Carter shouted, "Get Johnston out of there!"

"Why'd he crumple like that?" Rachek asked as he slung his rifle back over his shoulder.

"Well, it was a bit of a shock, Tony. You almost made my skeleton jump out of my skin... But I've been having trouble with Johnston since this began. He's as good as any of 'em, physically, mentally... But there's something missing, and whatever it is, it's causing him and a few others to very nearly have a nervous break at the point anyone who normally meets their conditions has their second or third wind."

"Hm..." Rachek stroked the bristles on his chin and nodded, "Let em see his dossier, and the ones of the recruits you're having trouble with. I'll see if I can find the common element."

----------

"Private Johnston, do you know why you've been brought to my office?"

"Sir, because this recruit lodged a formal complaint about the Captain, sir."

Rachek laughed at the Guardsman. It took him nearly a minute to stop chuckling.

"Okay, okay... I'll admit, I saw that. Trust me, though, you needed that shock. I bet you'll never keep popping your head up when you're crawling under barbed wire again, huh?"

Private Johnston blinked and looked forlornly at the desk.

"At ease, Guardsman, sit down," Rachek waved his guest to the chair on the opposite side of his desk and opened a folder, "Let's see... A former Marine, just from that, you and I have a lot in common, but don't think this makes us drinkin' buddies."

"No sir."

"Parents, divorced... Father remarried, mother... Remarried recently. Two siblings, older and younger brother. No indication of a relationship... Do you have a girlfriend, or do you just spend the night with the first cute face that winks at you when you arrive at port?"

"Uh... I just go home, sir."

Rachek nodded and flipped through the folder some more.

"Sir, may I speak freely?"

"Shoot."

"Are you going to do anything about my complaint?"

"Me? No. What happens next is entirely up to you. Either you can get over the fact that I risked your life to teach you a valuable life lesson, or you can quit training and quit the Air Guard. I won't think any less of ya, Carter's putting you guys through a step below Hell on Earth, and you didn't exactly sign up for that. You wouldn't be the first to quit, and I don't expect ya to be the last, but that training out there is the future of the Air Guard, because we're outnumbered, and it gets worse every day. We have to be tough, mean, and sharp. It has to be second nature, and we simply cannot afford to make mistakes. So... What's it going to be?"

"I want to prove I can do this, sir. I want to be a part of the Air Guard."

"Alright," Rachek closed the dossier and set it aside, "So, Johnston, tell me. Why are you having trouble on the courses? Carter tells me there's almost no difference between you and the other recruits, physically or mentally. So what keeps making you crack under the pressure?"

"I don't know, sir... I just seem to... I look inside myself for that little bit of strength, but all I can think is that I'm going to die and it's not going to matter... I feel like we're all just deluding ourselves, like we're gonna get wiped off the face of the planet and make a minor footnote in the history of the Sky Raiders."

"So it's a question of faith?"

"I guess..."

Anthony steepled his fingers and blinked. He seemed to be suddenly lost in thought. Finally, he dismissed the private back to his training, and offered an apology for the shot so close to his head. After a few hours of debating with himself, he got a hold of a few of the other captains and told them his idea. Once they agreed, he requisitioned a Skiff that the Engineers hadn't gutted yet and blasted off for Nigeria.

----------

"Gentlemen..." Captain Carter announced at the graduation ceremony, "I know I've been running you ragged, and that a lot of you hate my ever-living guts right now. That can't be helped, but in time, I trust you will come to understand. tomorrow, your final test begins."

"I thought you said training's completed!" one Guardsman shouted at him, "What the Hell are we doing all of this for!?"

"Fall in, Kuhne!" Carter shouted back, and the Guardsman reacted accordingly, "Your training is complete. I have nothing more to teach you that real experience won't do better. Up until today, about the worst supernatural threats most of you faced were Freedom Corps, Arachnos, and the Rikti. However, those groups are just a minor fraction of just how far our enemy can go. Tomorrow, I'm taking this unit to wipe out a base of the Circle of Thorns. It's your final test, but you will be taking it as Guardsmen, not as recruits or students."

There was a slight murmuring throughout the ranks. There was always a murmuring in the ranks when bad or dangerous news was delivered, it couldn't be helped, and Carter smiled.

"Relax. The fact that you're here means I have confidence in all of you. Tomorrow, we'll show the villains in that submerged city section that there's a new force to be reckoned with, one that won't simply be bought out or bargained with, one that isn't afraid of their nightmarish monstrosities! Today, however, we celebrate, for you are the first in a new corps of defenders of freedom... True freedom, too! The freedom to think, to say, to do what we want! The freedom to rest peacefully at night! The freedom to make a choice... Gentlemen, I salute you, for you are more than just Air Guardsmen... you are a symbol. You are a statement."

He saluted, and the platoon sergeants ordered an answering salute that the platoons delivered. Captain Carter cut his as they did and dismissed the first training company. During the mingle, Private Johnston approached him and made to shake his hand.

"What's this for?" the training coordinator asked as they shook.

"For letting me continue," Johnston replied breathily, "For having some faith in me..."

"Somebody has to have faith in you. If not me, then who?"

"I believe that becomes my employer's responsibility," a smooth voice replied from behind Carter.

"Father Morgan?" the captain asked as he turned around.

"Anthony informed me that some of your men are suffering a crisis of faith," the priest replied with a calm smile and a clap on the shoulder, "It's good to see you, Captain. Private Johnston."

"Father," the Guardsman replied with a bow, "I trust you'll be leading us in a prayer before the mission tomorrow?"

"For those who wish to pray, yes. I'm glad to see you among this crowd, Private. You should do well in your new career."

"Thank you, Father."

Captain Carter nodded to himself as he realized why one of his foremost problematic students had a near-complete turnaround in performance. Considering all he'd dealt with in his life, he wondered why he himself hadn't suffered a similar crisis of faith.

"Because you're still standing," Morgan replied as he voiced his concerns, "You have faith in yourself that you won't let your friends down. This is not as terrible a thing as some of my contemporaries and counterparts would have you believe. Just be certain you never compromise yourself, and you should do perfectly fine."

"But I've compromised myself so many times, Father. I have numerous sins that are going to haunt me for a long time... Perhaps until they catch up to finish me."

"Well, if it were easy, Redemption wouldn't be worth doing, now, would it?" the priest replied with a grin and a wink, "It's time to celebrate, Captain. This is something to worry about later."

((Father Morgan was introduced in this thread.))

I usually spend my 2X XP Weekend working on alts. I really like playing around with powersets, and leveling up characters quickly is one of the best ways I can think of to mess with them properly.

Oddly enough, though, I don't PL very often. I just find it distasteful to go seeking powerleveling. If I wind up on a PL team, meh, I'll give it a go for a couple maps. But that gets boring and lacks the sense of accomplishment such as what you get out of a "Mission Complete" message (as in farms, which are one of the favorite methods of PLing).

See where you got censored? Remember what you posted there. That's one thing you can't mention or talk about. However...

Since this is a Teen-rated game, that means that just about whatever you find on National Television (ABC, CBS, FOX, NBC, PBS) is allowed. Some things allowed there aren't allowed here, though, such as an alternative word for "buttocks."

Some subjects, such as sexual relationships, unwelcome sexual advances, and exceptional violence (read: torture and dismemberment) can be used, but they have to be handled tastefully and delicately. They're better left referenced and not actually acted out, however.

That said, a Hero with the type of Tourette Syndrome where he's constantly cursing (most who suffer the disorder simply have nervous tics and a vocal mannerism) would likely NOT be a suitable character to utilize.

Edit: to correct the word that got censored.

I set a goal for many of my alts and work toward accomplishing it. Last time, it was "Get my Triumphants to 10," I wound up leaving one in the dust, however, because I wanted him to have Dual Blades. Mmmm...

Now, it's get my Triumph Heroes to 14 and run as far and fast as I can, and work some more on my Champions.

Double XP doesn't come nearly enough times for us altaholics.

Doing good, but I'd like to make a suggestion early on. Try not using Proper Names as much. If you say "Bob" in one sentence, he's generally the subject for the next few, even if you mention others.

Try to mix it up with pronouns, quick descriptions, alternate names, and current personality traits.

All in all, though, I like that your characters each have personality unto themselves. I can't wait to see how these guys fare together.

Deep sea salvage operation. That's all they say.

You might have to read up on H.P. Lovecraft to get an inkling on the process, since the "Deep Ones" are apparently what the Coralax are based on.

"Hi there!" the catgirl shouted when Kip answered the door, "Hey! I remember you! I'm Snuggle Purr..."

She bounced into the apartment and hugged the scrapper, making an odd purring sound as she did. Kip didn't hug back, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I'm being punished for some nameless sin, aren't I?" he finally said when she didn't release him after what had to have been a few minutes.

"I just like to hug!" Purr leaned back, and grinned into his face and clapped him on the shoulders, "And you've looked like you needed one since the first day I saw you."

She gave him another hug. Durj noted that he seemed to lose some lung capacity as she squeezed herself against him.

"Snug, what're you doing?"

"I thought it was a fluke!" the catgirl released Kip, who started coughing as she bounded over to Fire-Shield and the pair clasped hands while the neko hopped and giggled.

"Calm down, calm down," Cathryn soothed the catgirl with a scratch behind the ear.

"Godammit, my life just turned into a frickin' cartoon!" Kip barked as he stalked into the kitchen, "[Frig]!"

"Well he's chipper," Snuggle turned back to Fire-Shield and smiled, "Ready to go? I've got a tip on a Council base just down the street. Apparently, M.A.G.I.'s getting some weird energy readings from it."

"Sounds good, I just need my coat," the orange-skinned girl replied before disappearing into her room.

"And what are you up to, oh Champion of the City?"

"Lunch," Kip replied as he started slicing some cheese, "Snuggle Purr, is it?"

He looked up at her and noticed she was staring intently at the cheese. Her tail was twitching with anticipation. She looked up at him once she realized he had asked her a question. She smirked before licking her lips.

"Wow, you don't downplay the cat part at all, do you?"

"Nope!" she chuckled, "Is that cheddar?"

Kip sliced her a piece and tossed it up. Purr caught it in her mouth and gave him a thumbs-up and a friendly smile as Fire-Shield emerged from her bedroom and ushered her out the door.

"Must they all act like that?" Kip muttered as he took his sandwich into the living room and sat down to watch some television, "Cripes... You've seen one, you've seen them all."

He saw the situational comedy on the screen.

"Jebus, it's the same for everything!"

There was a knock at the door and he hopped up to answer it. He wondered what a busty catgirl who wore almost nothing and exploded into spikes at will or an orange-skinned sorceress could have forgotten. It wasn't like they really needed anything to conduct their work.

That thought suddenly put Kip on edge. He always figured that one day, the people he put behind bars would send people after him. He took a bite of his sandwich (Damn good roast beef sandwich...) and set it aside. When there was another knock at the door, he reached up, turned the knob, and let the door open on it's own. He backed away and assumed a defensive posture, his energy armor raising from the subconscious will of his soul.

When the door creaked open, however, Kipland Durj looked back at himself. The one standing in the hall looked perplexed. Kip dropped his defenses and rubbed his temples as he calmed the adrenaline rush down.

"Jebus, man! I thought you were the Council or the Malta Group come to kill me!"

"Don't you know I scramble their information?" Aaron replied, "I work for Crimson, man. I've got access to all sorts of counter-intelligence practices and teams. Oh, you should see the looks on their faces when they're the ones walking into an ambush."

"Come on in, man," Kip asked his Praetorian self into the apartment, but the CIA spook waved off the invitation, "Nah, man, nah... I'm here to ask you out to lunch. Misty wanted to get a bunch of us together again, since she hasn't seen you since Sarah and Joe's wedding."

"And you?"

"Well, I've seen you out and about... Mind your kicks, man."

----------

It should have been a quick operation. The Council were a tough group to fight, but this was, by far, about the worst group Cathryn and Purr had ever faced. So bad, in fact, that they were now prisoners.

"Wakey-wakey," one of the troops growled from behind his mask at the restrained catgirl, "You know, I don't normally go for you furry types... But you've got all the curves to make me want to see what it's like..."

Snug spat at him, her eyes narrow with rage. The Cor Leonis Archon just chuckled as he wiped his lens clean.

"I can't do with the ears, though," he drew a knife, "and the tail... They just... sicken me..."

"Archon Willis," a voice at the entrance announced, "What are you doing with those prisoners?"

"Can it, Zack," Willis barked back, "These two got nothin' to do with your projects. Leave me to my... entertainment..."

The Void Stalker walked into the room and looked over the three individuals. Two were restrained. The catgirl was upright and on the wall, her arms secured with iron shackles bolted to it. The orange-skinned girl was catatonic, but she was bound with cold iron chains, which burned her skin lightly and severed her link to whatever mystical force enabled her to throw fire or create shields. He turned back to the Archon, his posture evincing that he did not approve of their condition or his behavior.

"I don't answer to you, Void Stalker!" Willis shouted, "Now get out!"

The Archon waved his knife at the flat-black-skinned man.

"Or I'm reporting to Arakhn that there was a slight accident."

"Have you been torturing these women?" the Stalker asked calmly.

"No..." came the saccharine-innocent reply, "Not really..."

The Void Stalker reached up, and with a twist and a wave, he'd disarmed the Archon and slit his throat. As the emergency teleporter started zipping him to the secure location most Archons go in the case of accidents (and some Hero or Rogue incursions), the Stalker peered into the lenses of his victim.

"Before you disappear, I want you to know I'm reporting your unprofessional behavior straight to the Center. You must certainly be a fool to think that I work for that dark kheldian. We hunt her kind, sir, we don't work for them. If it weren't for the Center holding us back, she and her mentor would certainly be dead. Your error in personal judgment will not affect my report, however, your lack of professional behavior will. We are allies, and you assaulted me. These women are resources, and you abused them. You better hope that you do not wake on the other end of that port. You know the Center is a family man, right? I believe he has daughters. None of this is going to end well for you."

The Archon made a surprised gurgle before disappearing. The Void Stalker sighed and turned to the catgirl, who stared at him with hate.

"I apologize for that, I would have been here sooner, except I was only just informed of your predicament. I'm sorry for the torment that fool has put you through."

"Let me down, then."

"I'm not that stupid," the Void Stalker pulled up a chair and sat down in it, "Now, first off, I think we should have some introductions. My name is Zachariah. Well, it's not my real name, but it's the callsign I go by around these parts. You understand, yes?"

"Yes..."

"And your name?"

"Purr..."

"Snuggle Purr, I thought so. And that young lady is Fire-Shield. Excellent. I have some questions..."

"I will tell you nothing!" she hissed back.

"I ask for nothing in regards to strategy, no... When we're done here I will close up shop, as we've obviously been compromised, and release you back to the Hero public in a fitting manner. I just ask that you help me with a matter of curiosity."

Snuggle Purr stared back silently. Her eyes darted left and right. Finally, she couldn't help herself.

"What do you want to know?"

"My records indicate that you know of Kipland Durj... Now, he's something of an anomaly in my experience. Up until a few months ago, I thought he was a kheldian... You've heard of the kheldians, correct? Good... Well, I thought he'd been chosen as a host, since it explained his miraculous recovery from a disease that baffles even scientists on my side. By all accounts, he should be a walking dark gem and flesh mass, sprouting nicti and hurling dark energy about."

"My God..."

"But he's not... And that is concerning. My superiors wish to know more about him, and I would like very much to tell me everything you know."

Snuggle Purr bit her lower lip and narrowed her eyes at the Void Stalker. Finally, she replied.

"What if I have nothing to say to you?"

"Then our session ends, and I do what I can to revive your friend and question her. Relax, I do not intend to torture either of you, that may lead to various psychoses and will undoubtedly cause the both of you to forge a vendetta against myself or my associates. That simply cannot be allowed, and I apologize sincerely for any suffering you've been caused from your being brought here. Actually, that brings up a good question, what are you doing here? From your behavior on the footage I reviewed on my way up, you certainly don't seem to be on par with your mission requirements, not by a long shot."

"I don't know," she replied, "I was assured it would be quick... Just in and out, don't make a big deal about it, and report back... But we got caught."

"Oh dear," Zachariah intoned, "That is very distressing. It sounds as if this may have been a computer error. You're certain about the assurances made to the parameters of your mission? I would hate to think that you were..."

He narrowed his eyes at a realization.

"...Bait?"

----------

Kip, Aaron and Misty were approaching the scrapper's apartment. Aaron had just got done telling a story about how they'd dumped a batch of Arachnos spy bugs in a Council restroom. He played some of the recordings from the recovered surveillance on his communicator.

"Isn't that a breach of security?" Kip asked.

"Pft, we took this along with all the thermal undergarments in the Arachnos base when they went to replace the bugs. Sometimes, the people we're working against can be some real idiots."

"But the breach?"

"Well, these aren't sensitive..." Aaron chuckled as some more toilet humor emitted from the communicator, "I'd like to see the code cracker that tries to wrap his head around that one."

"Cripes..." Misty scrunched her face up and looked down the hall, "Uh... Kip... Do you know them?"

"It's probably just Fire and Purr-rr" Kip replied as he saw the very unfeminine individuals in tan trench coats knocking on his door, "Hey! Who the Hell are you!?"

The nearest man turned. While his upturned collar hid the mask that indicated him as a member of the Galaxy corps of the Council, Kip recognized the appearance at this angle and summoned up his armor. The Galaxy trooper threw a blast of dark energy at the scrapper and he caught it with his forearms. The other Council soldiers threw back their coats as he charged toward them, freeing their weapons. They fired haphazardly, putting holes in the surrounding walls and doors.

Aaron Durj drew a pistol from within his jacket. With two quick shots, he put down one gunman and caught the Galaxy soldier in the thigh. Kip took down the one with the shotgun with a flying knee smash. He must have done something nasty to the goon's nose, because the soldier started disappearing almost immediately. The other had been shot in the neck, and he'd faded by the time Aaron had arrived, his pistol leveled at the Galaxy trooper.

"Don't move! Don't move you son of a [dog]!"

The Galaxy trooper raised his left hand. It was wrapped with dark energy. Aaron fired and put a bullet through the Galaxy's palm.

"AUGH!"

"Dammit!" Cobalt Black shouted, "I told you not to move!"

"Aaron?"

He and Kip turned to look over at Misty. Shock and horror on the gunslinger's face was quickly replaced by confusion as he inspected his fiance and noted quickly that she wasn't hurt.

But she was staring at a spinning bullet that hovered a few inches from her face.

"Is this normal?"

The Galaxy started moving again and Kip drove his heel into his chest.

"Stop! You're done, [butt]hole! You're done!"

((It reads well. I'd like to see more.))

"Do you feel pain?" Solo asked Psycho13 as they left the pizza shop.

The regenerating hero still had a knife sticking out of his shoulder. He looked quizzically to his friend, who was carrying a stack of four boxes.

"Oh!" he finally shouted as he pulled the weapon out of his arm, "No, not really. Some things, yeah, if they're different. But after you've basically felt your bones turn to fire and your eyes felt like they were going to crawl out of your skull and strangle you with the optic cord, no... You don't feel much pain after that. Thanks for the assist, by the way."

It was all Solo could do, a chair to the back of a goon's head. The Skulls thugs had come into the parlor and tried to rob the place, they didn't think the two guys in plain clothes were as much of a threat as they were. In a flash, Levi had drawn two blades from behind his hood and was carving into the gray jackets that were the signature of the low-priority gang.

Their black-jacketed leader, who thought his shotgun would help, blasted a scattering of small holes into the skinny scrapper. He rolled his eyes and shouted something about birdshot "only being good for pigeons around here" before cutting the weapon in two. Unfortunately, one of the goons hadn't been terrified by having his outfit lacerated, so he jammed his knife into Psycho13's shoulder, and was promptly smashed in the back of the neck by Solo Stryker's chair.

Since it wasn't a use of a super power, it didn't alert the police drones.

"It was nice of those guys to let us have the pizzas for half price," Baker chuckled as he slid the knife into his belt, "Here, let me take two of those."

----------

"Here we have it, boys," the Dale announced from the back of the modified tugboat, "A fusion-powered fishing boat..."

"Why must you introduce us to things that will only make us die?" Project Whirlwind asked with trepidation.

Despite the misgivings of the phrases, however, the machine itself was actually quite impressive. Brother Ringo and the Referee had spent their time when the machine was in dry dock to clean off the barnacles, rust, and repair various holes and imperfections. King Slater and Ragin' James helped out where they could, but the arsonist and the defender were in a peculiar fugue state when it came to the work, and the two often found themselves simply watching the art of madmen at work.

From the Brutal Warriors' ocean base, they acquired and retrofitted to the boat with a four-barreled anti-aircraft gun (mounted on the aft) and a rocket pod (mounted on top of the pilot canopy). A pair of anti-personnel pop-up turrets were stolen from the Council by Draven and Whirlwind, and were subsequently mounted at the forward corners of the ship's piloting cabin. Finally, the group had placed a salvageable minigun (harvested from the dropship's wreckage) on the bow with a gunner port built from enough pieces from ports of the dropship to fully protect the weapon's operator.

"What the Hell is this thing?" Sheldon Wallace asked as he peered over the design, "It looks like this thing started life as a tug boat, but became a monstrosity over the years..."

"My father built this boat," Ringo explained, "he wanted a trawler, but all that was available was an old leaky tug... He took my older brother and me, and we carved it up into this shape... Excuse me..."

The wild-maned young man sat down for a second. Brother War sat next to him and the two spoke in hushed tones. It seemed to be a comforting conversation.

"His family must be dead," Psycho13 explained, "Possibly killed by Arachnos, hence Ringo's work with Mauthe."

"No, it wasn't Arachnos," Ringo intoned, "It was the Frost Family. They sent goons to harass everybody in Crimson Cove. My dad refused to pay. He tried to appeal to Arachnos for help, since they were, you know, the authority at the time, but they didn't do a damn thing."

"...And the Family killed them..." Psycho13 finished glumly, "sorry, man..."

"I took matters into my own hands afterward," Ringo shrugged, "I rigged up one of the Family's warehouses with blasting cord and enough stolen fuel to run every boat for three days. I don't know what's in Superadine, but it must reek, or those guys were used to the smell of diesel and gasoline. [Dreck], considering how the whole place smelled, I'm surprised I didn't wind up taking the whole island with me. In any case, I torched the building to the ground. The building went up so fast, exploded... There wasn't time for anybody to scream. Somebody survived, though..."

Ringo took a drag from his cigarette and rubbed his shoulder unconsciously.

"He shot me in the arm, the thigh, the shoulder... I dropped my cocktail and it rolled aside before I could hit him with it. Still... I had other situations in mind... it was what my dad loved about me, that I always have a contingency in mind... As the hitman closed to finish the job, he stepped into the patch I'd soaked as the building burned. I flicked open my lighter and jammed it into the grass in front of me... When I came to, I was being taken care of by some of Mauthe's crew. They said the other guy from the explosion didn't make it, but my hair should grow back soon enough..."

This actually elicited a chuckle from the group.

"I got my revenge, my dad's revenge, my brother's... But this boat... Thinking about it, working on it... Driving it... It just brings up all those memories again..."

"It's okay," Dale gripped the other man's shoulder, "Everything will be alright. You'll see."

"It's as close to a trawler as we could make it, Mr. Wallace," Ringo finally declared, "Now, it's like the HM Trawler Force, a trawler that was outfitted for war in the early twentieth century. Yeah, I didn't know that, either, but some of the dockworkers around here are pretty old, and they've got lots of stories to tell. When we started mounting weapons on it, they told us about the British boat. Sad story, kind of, where the boat gets shot up by Germans and sunk, but, hey, this thing's gonna be tougher than that."

"We can only hope," Sheldon replied, "I'd hate to think that steel I donated to you guys goes to waste on your first mission."

"Hey, we shouldn't even have to worry about anything like that," Draven explained, "The vehicle itself is currently classified as a mercenary craft, and we've still got the licenses for all of those weapons... Arachnos and Freedom Corps prefer to use their air fleet to move across the planet, and when Arachnos uses their submarines, they're not going to call attention to themselves by blasting a seeming commercial boat out of the water. We should be fine, so long as the power core doesn't detonate."

The group turned to Dale Simms, who raised his eyebrows at them and shrugged. He hit a switch nonchalantly on the control panel and the boat started up with a loud roar at first, which turned into a low hum. The machine sat in the water, running calmly.

"All aboard?" he asked, "We should be clear to go from here on out..."

Hello again. I figured I may as well update on the status of my SG.

Still low-to-none in regards to other players in the SG, however, I have reached a point in base setup where I'm comfortable with what I've got. No base medical (I tried it, it didn't pan out anywhere near as well as expected), but I do have the teleporter setup I'm happy with. I'm waiting until I've got a decent amount of prestige (and salvage) built up before I try expanding the base any further, but at this point, Prestige just isn't important to me.

I no longer feel the need to grind.

So... On that note, my promotion style has changed considerably. It essentially revolves around the sort of player you are and the kind of personality you bring to the game.

I intend to wait for at least a month before promoting a player. They won't be able to pull from Storage, but they will be able to contribute to Storage, Invent, and store their own Personal Invention Salvage. They'll even have access to the teleporters, which currently have all of the regular city zones except Galaxy City and a couple Hazard Zones.

Currently a member group of the Praesidium Coalition

Supergroup Name: Grey's Army
Website: N/A at the moment
Global Chat Channel: I'm usually found on Boarderline Insanity or Jello Shooters. I also keep a tertiary eye on Protector Watch, if only to see what the current tide is like in the server's activity.
Leader or Recruiting Officer: Randall Grey
Preferred method of contact: Play. I like to know the kinds of people I'm working with.
-Emails are still passable. I like using this system for more than just the spam that's been infesting our digital waves.
-Global and Normal Tells are fine, too, and I'm likely to set up an impromptu interview.

Captain Carter crested the top of the hill. Though he had access to all sorts of jetpacks, he preferred the climb for this one, it gave him a better feel for everything around him. Lesser men would have broken a sweat at this point. Carter, however, was not one of them.

He examined the concrete structure at the top of the hill and noticed that the person he'd come to meet wasn't there. He narrowed his eyes and retraced his steps to this point.

Carter had trained up a large force of the newly formed Air Guard, mostly the former Sky Raiders who tested well for alternative studies. It was going to take a lot of out-of-the-box thinking to handle the tasks before them, some of which would include putting down super-powered villains. Training included much of what he'd gotten from his own former employers, though it took a little effort to locate enough inclines, training dummies (nicknamed "Ivan" by most military units), and various hazards to accomplish the proper conditions. He would make Special Qualification marksmen out of them yet.

Before he put them through their final training operations, however, he had to settle his affairs. He knew there were certain individuals and cliques within the intelligence community that wouldn't accept the Air Guard once they found out it had someone like him in it. At least, not unless he took steps to ease their reactions.

That was why he'd set up this meeting. Crimson and Indigo had been a thorn in the side of the Malta Group for a few years, now. Carter was hoping they'd be receptive to the information he had to provide to them. Some of it was outdated, some of it was outright falsehoods (but knowing that could still provide a cunning mind with information leading to the truth), and a few documents bore information regarding a few long-term goals and events that the Group had in motion. He shuddered at the thought that this was just a modicum of what he knew of his former employers.

"Freeze," he heard the smooth feminine voice intone as a sharp piece of steel pressed into his throat.

He should have figured. Indigo was paranoid to a fault, just like her partner. Being a former member of the Sisterhood could do that to a girl, though. Just like being a former Malta Group Gunslinger...

"The documents?" she asked, "Slowly..."

"There's no need for this," he muttered as he slowly and smoothly proffered the documents up and to his right, "I contacted you, remember?"

"Do you know how many times your former employers have tried this same tactic with us? We've lost good friends to this..."

Still, she withdrew the knife.

"Your posture doesn't indicate someone intending to betray me, however," Indigo took the papers from Carter's hand and walked over to her regular contact point, "Let's see... Got this... Got this... This is new... Fake? Damn... Well, I'll pull my people away from that... Mostly..."

Carter sat down and took in the landscape as she read through the articles. It was a pretty patch of land, a few acres of surprisingly untouched wilderness within an urban zone. Now wonder she'd chosen it as her contact point and the Devouring Earth were patrolling through to preserve it.

He wondered if he should tell her that her location here had been compromised. It wasn't him, no, but over time, the Group had come to learn much about their two most hated and feared rivals. It was that fear, in fact, that kept them from sending Knives or assassins after them. Nobody knew what those two knew, and there was a possibility that the duo had enough information to send enough Meta Humans to enough locations to cripple the Malta Group operations indefinitely.

Or it could be a load. Either way, however, the Group didn't assault Indigo, Crimson, their families, or their friends. Largely because all they had were their codenames, but still, even if they had the rest of the information, well, there's no way to take that kind of assault except for personal.

"Alright, 'Mr. Carter,'" Indigo finally sighed, "Your information checks out. There's enough here that matches up with what we already knew and enough information here that, even if it is disinformation, we've got new leads to follow up on. Thank you for being so... Forthright. Now, what's the deal? Do you want a new identity? A second chance?"

"No," Carter shrugged as he turned back to her, "And it's Captain, thank you. I'm just delivering this information to you as... as a finalization of my resignation. I have more important work to deal with than just being a pawn in a scared old man's game."

"Scared old man?"

"Go far enough up any organization, and you'll find one man who runs it all. The Council has the Center, Nemesis runs the Nemesis Army, Arachnos has Lord Recluse, and the Malta Group has Director 1. Nobody's ever met the guy, mind you, except his most loyal unit. From what I've learned of them, he's an old CIA spook who got scared when the Berlin Wall fell, and has been trying to keep a Cold War going since, just for his own job security."

"That fits some of what we've researched."

"Keep an eye out on all of our political representatives," Carter started heading back down the hill, "Candidates, nominees... Anybody who seems to appear out of nowhere, and even a few that are already established. If they've got connections to Big Oil, the major auto companies or even the aerotech industries, there's a likelihood they've been coerced by my former drinking buddies."

"So what do you want for all of this?" Indigo shouted down to him.

"Just leave Rachek alone!" he yelled back, "The Air Guard is something this world needs. The world needs a new inspiration, a force that tells them 'Yes, you are normal, but that doesn't mean you have to be scared.' We may not be that inspiration, not yet, but we're the foundation for it. Like I said: More important work."

Indigo nodded. She knew he wouldn't see it, he never looked back as he descended the hill, but his silence indicated he understood the tone of their conversation. There would be no trouble from Crimson and Indigo.

Not initially, anyway. There were still investigations to be done, and they couldn't be certain Carter was the only one the Group had seeded into the North Atlantic Third Wing.

When the Captain reached the bottom of the hill, he stopped. The corner of his mouth quirked and he could feel his throat go dry. His gut was telling him what he already knew. There was a hit out on him. While the Malta Group wasn't going to attack Crimson or Indigo, they weren't above assaulting those that tried to help them. Technically, that wasn't personal, that was business.

"You can step out of the bushes, ladies," Carter rasped as he adjusted his suit's cuffs, "I know you're there."

It was a squad of ten Knives of Artemis. They were just the ones that were visible, too. Carter narrowed his eyes and could discern two distortions in the air. It was actually a full squad of twelve, with possibly a thirteenth (their squad leader) still waiting out how this would turn out.

"We're not taking any chances with you," one of the women said as she drew her sword, "Stay still, and this will go very quickly and painlessly."

"Nothing you girls do is ever painless," Carter replied calmly, "Especially against men. Frankly, I was surprised the higher ups could trust you enough, much more that you could trust us."

"Silence, cur!" the girl rushed toward him, her footsteps near-silent.

Before she got too close, however, Carter threw his right hand out fast at her, and a hold-out pistol slid out of his business suit's cuff and landed squarely in his palm. He gripped the weapon and squeezed off three rounds, the girl dropped to the ground.

"Anybody else wanna be a hero?" he asked as the girls started to circle him, "I see..."

A knife blade popped out of the pistol's handle and he sliced the buttons off the front of his suit. The jacket flared open and the pistols he wore in the shoulder harness underneath were now readily available. He shot his left hand toward one of the blurs, however, and fired a second hold-out pistol at the girl there, there was no sense letting her get the drop on him. The body faded into view as it hit the dirt.

"Kill him!" a voice shouted from the trees.

Carter emptied his hold-out pistols into the crush and used the smallish weapons to deflect the incoming blades. He still got a few nicks and scrapes, but he wasn't dead. Rolling away, he avoided the normal caltrop littering that the Knives were more famous for, and got enough room to draw his pistols.

In short order, the squad had been virtually eliminated. One of the more entertaining moments was when he froze a girl with a Cryo Bullet and shattered her out of the icy prison with a Flame Bullet. Now, they were three (four, counting the Hand waiting in the thicket), including their Blade, who was seething at the deaths of her compatriots.

Carter calmly reloaded.

"You will pay for this!" she screamed.

"Not when your sisters have finished crying after they see what I've done to you," the former Gunslinger replied coldly.

With a scream, the three girls rushed him, and he gunned down the Blade's support first with a pair of shots to the head. The Blade he caught with a pistol whip to the face. She rolled with the hit, however, and he was forced to deflect her sword with his left pistol. The resulting damage from the superbly sharp weapon incapacitated the gun irreparably, and Carter was sweeped off his feet with a kick to the back of his knees.

As the Blade was about to bring her sword sliding into his throat, however, he leveled his surviving gun and fired. It wasn't the sort of shot he wanted to do to any woman, and the damage done was simply indescribable in any gentle sense. It turned out he wasn't boasting with his warning to the Blade, the sight made even him feel a little sick.

He wished he had just been boasting. He wished the fight hadn't come to this.

As he picked himself up, a bolt lodged into his thigh. Carter screamed, it had been in inside thigh hit. Whoever was shooting had just barely missed the artery there. When he went to aim his pistol toward the thicket, another bolt streaked out, pinning his upper arm to his torso. He could feel the head of the projectile scraping against his ribs.

"You..." the Hand of Artemis rasped as she emerged from the thicket, tears obviously streaking her face, "ANIMAL! Look what you've done!"

"I had no choice," Carter growled back, "You're here to kill me!"

"And I will," the Blade leveled her crossbow at the former Gunslinger, right between his eyes, "I will."

Fire exploded from her back, and the Hand was thrown forward, her aim toward Carter's head thrown off so that the bolt skewered a car's tire, sending it careening into traffic. Even if she succeeded in her mission, this Hand was in for some serious reindoctrination. They weren't supposed to be this public.

Still, there was the source of the Fire Bullet to consider. Who among the Malta Group would help Carter? There were a few out there whom he'd consider to be friends, but it was highly unlikely that they knew of his treachery, not would their cordial relationships supersede their loyalty to the Group.

As the Hand whirled around to face her new opponent, she was smashed in the chest by a flying knee attack and she went barreling over Carter. That was different, as was the apparent Gunslinger now standing where the Hand used to be.

"Who the hell are you?" the Air Guard Captain asked as the dark-blue uniformed young man circled around him and the Hand recovered herself, "You can't be one of my old friends... They're the ones that sent this girl."

"Fight now," the high-toned voice replied behind the face wrap, "talk later."

The Hand drew her blade, but she still shot a bolt at her new assailant. The projectile smashed into his chest, right where his diaphragm would be. However, all she got out of him was a slight stumble. When she moved to slice his head off, he caught the blade with his forearm and delivered a hard kick to her solar plexus, sending her sprawling. He then drew a pistol and flipped a shot into the Hand's kneecap. Howling, the Hand of Artemis disappeared as her own emergency teleporter took her to wherever her base of operations was.

"Thanks," Carter croaked as he pulled his arm free of his torso, "UGH!"

"You should let medical experts handle that," the Gunslinger explained as he handed over a small device, "Med-porter beacon. Don't worry, we've got lots of these."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Cobalt Black Three-Eight-Nine, and you're lucky I was on duty patrolling the hills around here."

"You're with the Group?"

"I'm with a group, and that's all you need to know."

Carter regarded the shorter, younger man. There was definitely quite a bit off about his behavior, especially if he was a Gunslinger as he was dressed.

"You don't fight like a typical Gunslinger..."

"Then I guess I'm an atypical Gunslinger. Now, you better hurry before you bleed out. I'd hate to have to report to Indy that her new boyfriend just got iced because he was too dumb to use the Red Cross Express."

"Indy? Wait, I'm not-"

"In joke," Aaron Durj interrupted as he pressed a button on the beacon still in Carter's outstretched hand and the wounded Air Guard Captain disappeared to a secure wing of the Harvey Medical Center.

The former Praetorian Malta Resistance Operative then turned on his radio and called into it.

"B-P, this is C-B, over."

"Loud and clear, C-B," the voice of the CIA agent at the top of the hill replied, "How is the package?"

"Secure, B-P. Resuming patrol. Over."

"Roger that. Over."

The Gunslinger put a call in to the police to check out the automobile accident. He made certain that they would know not to look for him nor the cause of the source of the disturbance as he tagged each of the dead bodies and sent them porting to the Harvey Morgue. Once he was done spreading ammonia on the ground, he disappeared into the thicket.

I would check ParagonWiki, too. Again, not terribly great, since the sites can only really update with what's in-game and published officially by the developers, but it's been a wealth of resources.

ParagonWiki's usually what I go to when I need to research into something.