Mr_Grey

This one's not by me. I got the permission to post the link to the story from the author, though.

A Christmas Folly by Essex.

I strongly suggest you only post the link in the City Scoop for this one. It goes on for a ways...

Lt. Bear, of the organization known as Wyvern, undergoes a classic change of heart, forcefully inspired by the holiday season, in the style of City of Heroes...

Dammit. No. That's not what I suggested. Not at all.

...

Okay, that does it. I'm sick of that.

Devious. Averick. I'm going to suggest you two stop talking to each other in this thread for a couple pages.

It's not helping further the discussion. If you'd like to see how bad it can get, might I suggest looking at the 70+ page (and likely growing exponentially) monstrosity about the Golden Compass movie in Comic and Hero/Villain Culture. Rhetoric, vitriol, and other forms of outright ignorance abound in there.

It bothers me to see the same here.

Please, don't explain yourselves publicly (i.e. here). If you'd like to argue with each other, please do it through PMs. I have no beef with either of you, and I'd rather not gain one. You're both intelligent, and it would be a disservice to lose either of you.

I'm not sure what I see. Sometimes, I see people at face-value. They look normal to me, they seem as they should.

Other times, I see monsters. It winds up not just being through sight, but I also seem to feel that something isn't right with them, like they're the sorts of people that major religions warn us are out there.

Now, I've never had to feel particularly connected to others. This personal attitude was generated largely by my environment. I feel myself as an observer most of the time, and when I do have a role in my social environment, it's normally something out of the way that simply alleviates the stress for the "faces."

In a very short while, I'm probably going to have to confront myself over this. Do I wish to keep pushing on the normal way I've always been, or do I want to do something different?

Devious, are you alright? That last post kind of petered out at the end there...

Grey's Army One Shot: Holiday Spirit

Here we find one of my heroes, Cedric Grey, and his talking axe as they battle Snaptooth in order to return Santa's Magic Bag.

Cedric Grey bounded across the building tops of Founder’s Falls. The bag on his shoulder wasn’t getting any lighter, but that wasn’t about to stop him. He had to return the magical artifact, and he couldn’t let his pursuit catch up.

“How does Chris Kringle, the king of the symbols of this holiday season, lose his bag to a bunch of angry…”

He looked back and saw the Redcaps were still on his trail.

“Little buggers don’t give up…”

“Did you expect them to?” he heard inside his head, though his axe at his hip glowed to reveal that his Praetorian’s soul was the one doing the talking, “They intend to cause widespread mayhem, and they’re not about to just let you return that red sack.”

“Hang on,” Cedric reached inside and retrieved a gift, “I know I’m burning my own coal here, but here goes…”

He opened the box and revealed a strange holiday red-and-green colored shotgun. He and the nearest Redcap stared at the toy-like weapon (indeed, it felt like plastic) in consternation for a few moments.

“How is this supposed to help me?” the tanker asked as the Redcap resumed its assault.

“Just fire,” his Praetorian replied, “If it doesn’t work, use me.”

The blonde young man shrugged, aimed in on the Rascal and pulled the trigger. An explosion of holiday-colored fireworks erupted from the weapon and the little critter was launched into the horizon, exploding like a comet.

“Cool!” the tanker shouted as he turned to the other evil little gnomes, “Who wants to go on the next ride?”

“Get him!" one shrilled, "It can’t possibly hold enough ammunition for us all!”

“One way to find out!” the hero cheered and pulled the trigger again, blasting three of the little buggers away much like the first one, all in one shot, “Awesome! It’s got a spread!”

“And if it doesn’t have enough ammunition,” the axe warned audibly, “Then you Redcaps are in for a world of hurt!”

Several minutes later, the nearly fifty peculiar fae creatures were cleared off the rooftops in a spectacular fashion. Some watching civilians even clapped. Cedric whooped and leaped down to the ground level. Here, next to the Red River, was an entrance to the Pocket D, and his mission would soon be over.

Unfortunately, one last Redcap stood in his way, the king of the Redcaps (or so he thinks), Snaptooth. The big, brutish, crotchety and wicked (among other colorful adjectives, like smelly and annoying) critter stood between the tanker and the entrance.

“Dude, do you have any idea how many mythical rules you broke by bringing the Magic Bag here to Founder’s Falls?”

“It was the easiest way to keep Big Red off my back,” Snaptooth hissed, “He has rules to follow that I can avoid... Last year, I tried to hold the world in a temporal limbo… But imagine the damage I can cause if all the world’s children cannot get their gifts?”

“Dude,” Cedric dropped the bag and rubbed his forehead, “You are, like, the worst villain in the world… That is such a stupid idea!”

“Stupid, because you don’t get the point! It’s not Santa’s toys that is the objective. It is the Holiday Spirit he spreads! That bag is simply full of all the joy of the holiday season, and if it can’t be delivered, no child will ever be happy again for the rest of the year!”

The hero blinked at this, but the concept still didn’t make sense to him.

“But… There’s still New Year, all that time they get away from school, and holiday spirit isn’t just doled out by Santa, it’s-“

“SHUT UP!” Snaptooth interrupted, but the tanker just continued.

“Besides, I’m not the first person to stop you tonight…”

“True, but the end of the final hour draws close,” the brutish gnome drew one of his wicked daggers, “And if I have that bag by the stroke of midnight, I win!”

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me…” Cedric cursed as he hefted the shotgun and pulled the trigger.

Unfortunately, the strange magical firework ammunition was depleted. The plastic weapon made a soft click and the tanker’s near-perpetual smile turned to a grimace of bemused acceptance.

“Figures.”

Snaptooth closed fast, his blades snaking about as he made intimidating feints while he ran. Cedric casually dropped the sack, pulled the axe from his hip and swatted the Redcap into the Red River with the flat of his blade.

“And now to sit back while you turn to stone,” he intoned as he started to relax on the ledge.

“That’s trolls!” Snaptooth shouted angrily, “And you’re not a billy goat!”

“Oh yeah…”

“I don’t have time for this!” the Redcap shouted and leaped over the tanker.

Cedric was confused for a moment. The angle of descent indicated that the enemy of all things good and fun wouldn’t be landing anywhere near enough to make a decent attack. Instead he would be…

Snaptooth landed next to the red bag, snatched it up and bounded away. Cedric looked at his watch as he took a stance and pulled the axe back to throw.

It was 11:54, PM. He had six minutes until Christmas. It dawned on him that he was working on Christmas Eve, but that wasn’t anything new. Looking back up, he hurled his weapon at the legs of the fleeing monster. Snaptooth let out a strangled yelp as his legs were tripped out from underneath him. The sack went flying and Cedric leaped to catch it as his axe embedded itself in a nearby wall.

“No!” the villain shouted as he scrabbled back to his feet, “I will not let you win this day!”

“You couldn’t cut his legs off?” the tanker asked his stuck weapon.

“I AM bound by the laws of this city, you know,” his Praetorian’s soul replied.

“Oh, that’s your excuse for everything!”

Snaptooth swung his blades at Cedric. The blonde head dodged left, then right, and the young man raised his arms up and back as the knives raked across his armor’s chest plate. Then, Grey brought the sack swinging around and cracked it across Snaptooth’s head, knocking the ugly little man out cold.

“Oh, ho! Somebody’s a glassjaw!” Cedric laughed as he opened the sack, “Johnny! Let’s see what we just hit you with!”

He turned the sack upside down as Snaptooth came to just enough to start reaching for one of his fallen knives. A heavy iron anvil fell out of the sack’s opening, crushing the monster’s hand and waking him wide-eyed. He also screamed a lot. Cedric Grey, however, just stared at the cartoonish result.

“Dude! How the heck did I swing that thing around?”

“Get-it-off-get-it-off-get-it-off-get-it-off-get-it-off-get-it-off-get-it-off-get-it-off-get-it-off-get-it-off-get-it-aaaaaaah-ha-ha-off!” the fae screamed as the iron seared into his skin, but also pinned him in place.

“Only if you promise to be good.”

“Okay!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! YES!”

“You promise? I want your word, Snap,” the tanker pointed down at the scraggly-haired face, “I want your word.”

“On my black heart, I swear I won’t try anything for the rest of the year!”

“That’s thrice you promised me,” Cedric pushed the heavy iron weight over and it rolled to the ledge, barely stopping instead of smashing through the pier below, “Remember that, Snap.”

The redcap cradled his injured arm and growled out some obscenities to the hero. However, being a magical creature like he was, he was bound to the promise he’d made, regardless of the circumstances. There could have been a fantastic disappearing act, at least a cloud of smoke, but, instead, the ugly little man among ugly little men simply vanished as if he’d never been there.

“Alright!” the tanker cheered, “I finally did something right for a change!”

“Not yet,” his Praetorian’s soul reminded him from the axe, “You still gotta get that thing to the night club!”

“Oh, shoot, you’re right!” Cedric made a tugging motion with his hand and the axe pulled itself from the wall and flew to his grip.

“That’s a first,” the other Cedric said cautiously.

“I forgot to attach the chain, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah… We’re running out of time, Ced.”

The tanker leaped for the Pocket D entrance. It was a manhole cover in the ground here, though it became a set of doors on the other side. He had only one hope that it was the right one…

----

“So, anyway,” a young heroine in a red-and-green spandex outfit said to her date as they opened the door, “Like I was saying, the tradition in my family is to open one special gift the night before… it’s fun, and can be romantic…”

“I don’t know, hon,” the white-clad hero replied, “I’m more used to the morning of colored wrapping paper gor-AUGH!”

Cedric barreled through the open door and crashed into the hero. He shouted a quick apology as he rolled away and bounded for the entrance.

-----

“Fifty-five, Fifty-six, Fifty-seven,” DJ Zero counted off as he read from his watch, Santa Clause rubbing his fingers together as he contemplated using his last trick of the season.

“Fifty-eight,” Zero looked up with a smirk and stopped counting, “Cue the magic, Nick. Here comes the last bag of the night.”

Cedric ran up as the red-clad holiday symbol twiddled his fingers, causing time in the real world to stop suddenly. The activities in Pocket D, however, continued unabated.

“Well done, my boy,” Santa chortled happily, “Well done.”

“Here’s your Magic Sack, boss,” Grey laughed as he handed over the bag, “I gotta tell you, it was a lot of fun getting this thing back.”

Santa Clause screwed up his face as he looked at the peculiar young man.

“Why am I bothered by how you said that? Forget it, you’re back on the naughty list.”

“That’s the fun list!” the tanker replied with child-like glee.

The red-clad fat man chuckled as he reached into his bag and handed a small box to the hero. Clapping him on the shoulder, he let loose with the ever classic “Ho-ho-ho’s,” “Merry Christmases” and handed out gifts to the heroes and (oddly) a few rogues.

“Why didn’t he give one to you?” Cedric asked the super-powered disc jockey.

“I get everything I want or need right here,” Zero said, “And getting to watch you heroes knock that dumb redcap around is gift enough. Good job there, winding down to the last second like you did. It was satisfactorily dramatic. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to work my magic.”

Grey nodded and started heading for the exit. Briefly, he considered the notion he’d heard on the way in. One gift, the night before…

“Just open it already,” the axe moaned, “Everybody knows you want to.”

Cedric tore the box open and marveled at the object inside.

“What is it?”

“It’s a silk axe blade rag!”

There was a moment of silence. Cedric the Gray didn’t know whether his Prime Earth counterpart was messing with him or not. Finally, the tanker waved the silk rag in front of the weapon.

“See?”

“Ooh… It glows!"

Where should we send this?

EDIT: Nevermind... My dumb brain reminded me to check the top too late...

Well, I'm certain you had another concept running parallel to the null space, but as you mentioned, you were tired, and it was difficult to flesh it out properly. You had all the other stuff in mind, but as you put words to screen, time wore on and your memory of the concept drifted as mental fatigue took its toll. Considering you posted it at what is 4:52 AM to me, I can only imagine how exhausted you must have been at that point.

I believe the original intent was to discuss aethereal concepts (as opposed to ethereal, which is just inspirations toward thought; aetheral encompasses many different realms of possibility, mostly through magic) and it became this current debate.

If we were to still call this an experiment, I would call this science run amok... A little...

My relation to my world...

I suppose I'm currently in the middle of my own Taxi Driver scenario, out of the military, grappling with sleep problems, trying to find some kind of work to make some semblance of order in my life and worried that I'm likely to spiral out of control at any moment. Then the question becomes "Will I do something to uplift my fellows, or will I go to war with the system and try to take out as many as I can before they gun me down?"

Sadly, more people choose the latter in that question, as evidenced earlier this week. before we had serial killers, now we have maniacs. One day, we will have super heroes, and they will, of course, be a reaction to super villains, but that is neither here nor there, just an observation based on the spiral that seems to be happening in society.

I feel rather displaced, to be honest. I'm definitely not a part of my local society. I barely identify with my own mother, and I've stopped trying to wrap my head around my father's drunken philosophies. My younger brother has an absurd notion burrowed in the back of his head that the world revolves around him, and my elder continues to make life decisions while under the influence of mind altering substances. My friends fall somewhere between the perspectives of my brothers, save one.

That one is about to do what I believe is the smartest thing anybody could do in this area, and that is get the Hell out of here. He got married, and they've decided it's time to move on to somewhere else. Some people wonder at what he's going to be able to do in the world, since all he's ever been is a carpenter. Perhaps that's all the skills he'll ever need. Besides, just because he hardly says anything, it doesn't mean he doesn't know anything.

Me, I can't stop talking. Though I keep telling myself, I can't seem to accept that I truly know nothing. Instead, I try to fit the pieces together until the puzzle I've mashed up is a horrid abomination unto the Creator, and I am forced to start again. I learn from my mistakes, but that form of learning is slow.

To define in a single word what my role is in the world currently, both in the societal and ecological sense, I would have to say that it is first and foremost, a burden. I may do some things to mitigate the stress I cause, but the fact of the matter is, there are people out there who would have it easier if I weren't around.

Of course, that doesn't mean I'm ready to give up just yet. My life has truly only just begun. My body is as ready now as it is ever going to be to weather the rigors of the rest of my limited time. All I have to do is pick something and do it. I have the advantage that nobody is going to try to stop me, they've got no reason to.

The question, then, is what am I going to do?

Humanity's role in the world? Well, there's a good argument against evolution. Most creatures fit into an ecological niche and their environment maintains a particular equilibrium. Humans do not fit into that equilibrium.

We have the anti-Midas touch in this world. Everything we touch turns to Hell. Our cities are choked with smog and our wildernesses are torn apart for resources to make our ever-expanding population comfortable. Concrete, glass and steel boils fester wherever there has been the corrupting touch of man and we show no signs of stopping.

It is sad that it would take an extreme event to make people realize the extent of the damage we cause. Perhaps this is why we're told not to make scenes in public... Nobody wants to have their eyes opened, not to how ludicrous their rules of etiquette are, not to the homeless on the streets, and certainly not to the problems they leave in their wakes with their self-centered lifestyles.

Humanity's role on this world is much like the one I presented earlier. Are we going to do something uplifting, or are we going to wreck the place? We fall somewhere in the middle, with our uplifting capabilities drawing heavily from wrecking that which is around us. As we are now, we are most certainly not gearing for ascension, nor are we clamoring for descent. We pretty much want things to stay as they are, just make it all more convenient and cheaper, to Hell with the cost to others.

So, from my observation, humanity is currently in the same state as I am right now. A burden upon the world, with the capability to do better, but the likelihood to continue plodding along as it always has. How frightening a thought.

((Since we resurrected Things Recluse Wouldn't Say, I figured I'd hunt this down, too..))

Statesman: *searching through an old toy chest* "Ah, there it is..."

Manticore: "What? An old teddy bear?"

Statesman: "No... It's a powerful artifact with an enchantment that will enable us to finally vanquish Lord Recluse and end this troublesome conflict. The problem is, I cannot wield it anymore..."

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

--Peregrine Island--

Statesman: "Castle! To reward your hard work at guiding the heroes of Peregrine Island, I have a gift for you."

Castle: "Uh... Thanks, but i haven't been doing this very long. In fact, I kind of stepped up because there was nobody else available..."

Statesman: "Regardless, since you rose to the challenge, here..."

*Statesman hands Castle a long slender box. Castle then eagerly opens it and marvels at what is inside.*

Castle: "Is this what I think it is?"

*Statesman nods. Castle draws what appears to be a foam rubber baseball bat.*

Statesman: "Behold! The Nerf Bat! Mark well this day, Stefan, for it is the beginning of the end..."

*Castle takes a practice swing, smacking a Dual-Blade wielding hero and depowering him.*

Random Hero: "Ow! Hey! What did you do to my blades? They're all dull and... And I feel sluggish... WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?"

Statesman: "Ooh, you should watch it with that thing. Hitting one affects everybody like him..."

Again, I reiterate my point about the rose...

1+1 will always equal 2, regardless of what you assign to 1, because changing the value of 1 will change what is assigned to 2 appropriately.

That is why it's being referred to as an infallible truth.

1 is 1. Not just the 1=1 equation I mean that regardless of what you assign to the number 1, it will retain its purpose as the number 1.

2, regardless of what you assign to it, will remain the number Two, and it will always be the double of one because that is what it was designed to be, and it is reliant on only the definition of One to determine its purpose.

Once you attempt to alter the definitions of the numbers outside of these parameters, you're simply turning the visual numbers into symbols, no different than A, X, or N, and we're no longer dealing with the original values. At that point we're simply dealing with a different type of problem, but one that is still subject to the same rules as normal mathematics.

These may be some of the patterns we humans have gleaned from the universe, but our limited scope doesn't make them any less true.

My acceptance of 1+1=2 as an infallible truth aside, however, I fail to see how this has anything to do with the OP's points about "null space" or the concept of eternity presented. I must also point out that the true main point, rather than this mechanic we're so hung up on, has a number of similarities to the Hindu concepts of Brahma, an energy force that goes on forever that all spirits may one day become a part of. I would like to see more on this, in fact, rather than nittering over details you need education in quantum physics in order to even begin to understand (I should clarify: I need the education in quantum physics before I can begin to understand).

--Talos Island: Somewhere Below the Phoenix Medical Center--

"Amy..." Kip sighed at the side of her hospital bed.

Angus had been true to his word, transporting the Rikti-fied girl to one of the more special facilities where the doctors and scientists worked hard to understand the process and cure at least the most recent victims of the mutation. They'd made great progress with the members of the Lost, but those that had been converted to near-to-full Rikti status, like Angus McQueen... Well...

"Don't worry, Mr. Durj," one of the scientists explained, "We're making great leaps... Oh, hey! I was one of the guys that studied your disease! How the Hell did you survive that?"

"Pure force of will," the scrapper intoned, "So if you're the caliber of help my old girlfriend's getting, I'm suddenly having doubts about her future here..."

"Relax," the scientist chuckled, "There's years of research put into this, not the couple months we had with you."

"Whatever..."

"Hey," the lab coated-man pulled a chair next to Kip and showed him the chart, "Your girl shows signs of an experimental acceleration process we've been a seeing a lot of lately. The good thing is that we've been having a lot of luck reversing the process. Something about the chemicals and narcotics used to catalyze the process... Or maybe it's because the Rikti here didn't have access to as many of the... the... Incubation chambers? I don't know, but a lot of the forces from our side of the proverbial wall didn't go through the same process as the ones on their side. So, with the transformations so recent and with what we know about them now, I'm telling you, Mr. Durj, we'll bring your friend back."

"I wish I shared your confidence," Kip replied, "But thanks for the reassurance..."

The scientist gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before standing, checking the monitors and taking notes. The girl was properly sedated, and at this point, the doctors and researchers had it nearly down to clockwork, so there was little to no risk of complications. The scientist left the scrapper to his friend, eventually, and Kip held her taloned claw.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you," he whispered, "I'm so sorry..."

"It's... it's not..." he heard in the back of his mind.

"I think she's trying to say it's not your fault," his soul whispered, "Come on... There's work to be done..."

Kip nodded. Whispering a promise to make things right, he headed out. Upon exiting the Phoenix Medical Center, he joined Sarah and got a comforting hug. Joe kept to the side, he knew Kip didn't have any desires for his fiance (in fact, Kip looked at Sarah like a sister), and he wasn't the jealous type.

"Since there's a lull in the attacks now, Joe and I are going to head over to my mom and dad's apartment. If you want to come with..."

"No, Snuffy," he sighed, "I... I have a lot of stuff to work out right now..."

"Okay..."

----------

--Kings Row: Crowne Memorial Medical Center--

"You're cleared for a one-hour visit, no more."

Raymond Harris waved off the brusque tone of the Freedom Corps detachment assigned to him. He wasn't much of a hero in the warzone where the Vanguard had established their siege against the Rikti Battleship, but he had proven to be a capable soldier. For that, he'd been provided a chance to have a brief word with his father.

His father... The man hadn't been a terribly good influence on the boy who would grow into the monstrosity walking down Crowne Memorial's halls today. Harris wondered briefly if his father had treated him better, would he have turned out the same? Would he have become the thug at the feet of another dead thug and arrested for a murder he hadn't committed? Would he have been sent to the Zig and turned into this?

His nanites reminded him that the "ifs" and "maybes" were better left to alternate realities. They reminded him that it was highly unlikely there was a good version of his father.

Eric Harris lied in his hospital bed. A former sergeant in the Kings Row precinct, the man's life had been plagued with scandal and drama on the force. After his wife had died, his alcoholism became even more apparent. As an afterthought, Power Breaker idly wondered why he never told anybody about the abuse he was suffering at the hands of his father, the old man's other vices would have strengthened the argument.

Of course, that would have meant he hated his father, and wanted him taken care of so he didn't have to deal with him. As Ray looked upon the old man's broken form, he admitted to himself that neither was true.

"Dad?" he asked.

Eric had been making for his apartment when the first attacks hit. He'd made his way pretty decently, but an unexploded bomb that had been missed by the heroes had repaired itself sufficiently and detonated as he emerged from an alley, hurling him through a building and into the waiting arms of the medi-porter network.

Normally, the system would be able to handle it. The old man would have been fine, his body patched back together with experimental technology and magic. However, it placed a considerable strain on Harris's heart, and the organ was failing. There was nothing the doctors could do for him.

"Who are you?" he replied to the monster standing beside his bed with a gruff, angry voice.

"I'm..." Power Breaker almost gave his moniker, "It's me, Dad... Little Raymond."

This didn't change Eric's demeanor. He merely glared back at the big spiky man and sneered.

"My son's dead to me... He ran out when the going got tough..."

"I ran out because I was tired of putting up with you!" the brute shouted, "All I could expect from you when you came home was an argument and a severe beating!"

"The same way my father raised me..."

"No! Godammit, no!"

"Ssh!" a nurse warned, "He has a heart condition."

"Let him yell," Eric barked, "He thinks he's man enough to tear around the world as a grotesque freak, he must be man enough to yell at a broken old man in a hospital bed..."

"Just like you were man enough to wail on a ten-year-old kid," Ray intoned.

The nurse left the room in disgust. The mood she left behind wasn't much different. The two glared at each other for a few more minutes.

"What do you want from me?" the old man croaked out.

"I want an explanation," the big man replied, "Or at least an apology! You ow me that much!"

"How do you figure?"

"Look at me! Everything I am can be traced back to you and your blaming me for Mom's death, the beatings, the neglect... You were a terrible father, and you thought being a mediocre cop made it all alright! Is it such a surprise I turned out the way I did?"

"Pft, you were no good to begin with..."

"Oh, so nature's your argument now, huh? Well, what does that say about you? About Mom? You're saying I was no good from the beginning, well, what about where I came from, huh?"

The old man looked out the window.

"So now you're gonna ignore the issue?" Ray snorted, "I tried that, Dad, lots of times. It doesn't work."

"You think an apology's gonna make things magically better?"

"It's a start!"

"I can't do it," the old man replied, "Frankly, I don't care."

Ray nodded. He didn't know why he wasn't suddenly in a rage, but somehow he'd expected this response from his father.

"So..." he grunted, "Bum ticker, huh?"

"Yeah," Eric replied, "Docs say I've got only a couple weeks, maybe. Hell, I could drop dead right here."

They both looked around the room nervously for a couple seconds before Eric broke the silence again.

"Damn."

"Yeah," Ray sighed, "I kinda figured that's what you were hoping for."

"Dammit, Ricky," the old man whined, "I was drunk!"

"You were always drunk!" the brute half-shouted back, "If it weren't for the fact that the docs flushed your system, I'd be certain you were drunk now!"

"I have my ways," Eric reached into his fresh bedpan and retrieved a bottle, "See? A few extra bucks go a long way with the orderlies..."

"Dammit, Dad..."

Eric was already taking a swig, and he finished a third of the beer before he sighed and looked forlornly at his son.

"I can't apologize to ya, boy, because I don't see how it'll help."

Breaker looked back in shock. The nanites told him that from the tone of the older man, he was being sincere.

"I messed up. My life, your life... About the only thing keeping me together was your mom, and she died in that car accident... I lost it. No apology is going to make up for that."

The old man went to take another swig, but Ray stopped him.

"You know you shouldn't be doing that. Not right now."

"Son, my heart hurts, not my liver," Eric replied, "Though it should, considering what I put it through."

Raymond released the bottle and let his father take another drink. This one was shorter than the first, though.

"You want some? There's a couple more in the pan..."

"No thanks," Breaker frowned, "I'd rather not touch whatever's been put in one of those..."

"The orderlies gotta do it, I don't see why you gotta be all high and mighty," Eric shook a bottle lightly in offering, "Last chance..."

"No."

"Alright, then."

After Eric replaced the beer and took a few more drinks from his own, they sat in silence for a few more moments.

"I'm not saying it," Eric finally said.

"But you're feeling it, right?"

Eric remained silent.

"That's okay, Dad," Ray patted his old man on the shoulder and stood to leave, "I'm probably running out of time, anyway. Freedom Corps is being a bunch of fascists because they're all antsy about me being in the city limits..."

"[frick]ing bureaucrats," Eric replied, "Alright, Ricky..."

They waited in silence for a few more minutes. It was strange for both of them. Raymond had never been in this situation before, and Eric was certain that once this situation happened (his son being more powerful than him), he'd be reaping a world of pain. He was surprised that Power Breaker was being so...

"You got a lot of your mother in you," he finally said as his son was about to open the door, "That's a good thing..."

Ray nodded.

"I won't be able to come and visit you again, Dad."

"I know. You keep on keeping on, son. I'm sure you'll get it right somewhere along the line... Not like me. I had it right once... I couldn't keep it. I couldn't be the father you needed, and I'm sorry about that."

Power Breaker pointed at his father. His face had the "I got you" look on it.

"I know, I know," Eric chuckled hoarsely, "Get on out of here before they arrest you..."

-----

"You were almost late," the Sergeant barked at Power Breaker as the brute emerged from the hospital, "I was all set to-"

"Call a heavy in, I know," Breaker shook his head, "Of course, you'd have gotten him, and it wouldn't have done ya much good."

He pointed at the waiting Randall Grey, who was just finishing drinking from a large flask. When the Freedom Corps troops glared angrily at him, he shrugged and leaned lazily against the SWAT van they'd commandeered for this venture. The vehicle leaned a little to the side.

"Alright, come on, Ran, let 'em alone," Breaker chuckled.

"What?" Randy asked, "What am I doing so wrong?"

----------

Kip kicked the Rector into the wall and looked down on Fire-Shield. The poor girl was having bad luck with teams lately, and was waiting for Eisenheartz and Genevieve to help her when she got ambushed. Now she was cowering inside a dumpster, crying because she didn't want to get hurt anymore.

"Ever think you're in the wrong line of work?" he asked as he helped her out.

"I have these gifts," she sniffled, "I should put them to a good use..."

Kip shrugged, but nodded in agreement.

"Might I suggest you stick with more reliable teams, then. That Eisenheartz guy seems pretty decent..."

"He's been a little flaky since he started dating Wrath Fire."

"Really? When did that happen?"

"Just after we helped you guys in the Isles,"she sighed, Is it true she once dated that big blonde guy with the chains and the crazy smile?"

"Cedric? Yeah, for a while. It didn't work out too well... I guess Jen couldn't handle someone who was already flaky by default."

This got a giggle from the controller witch and the two of them talked for the remaining time it took for the other two to arrive. She explained how she was a small-town girl who one day changed skin tone and could control fire and energy fields. At first the people were terrified of her, but then the Rikti attacked and she was looked upon as a savior. Kip explained he had similar problems, a town that didn't understand him until they were forced to see that the violence he committed he did to protect them.

"Wrath said your girlfriend was taken by the Rikti..."

"Yeah, the authorities have her again," Kip sighed, "I don't know how that's gonna go, but the docs seem pretty confident."

"I hope she turns out okay," Fire-Shield chuckled, "Someone needs to keep you reigned in."

"Anybody ever tell you you're funny?"

"A few people, yeah..."

"Well, they lied," Kip frowned and sat down next to the orange-skinned girl with a bemused expression.

Another alert blared moments before the tanks arrived. Eisenheartz suggested they help usher civilians away from the oncoming strife and the others readily agreed. They ran into Kip's father next to the Green Line, doing the exact same thing as them, so they hooked up with him and helped each other out.

Once again, the dropships stormed through, seeking to devastate the city. This time, however, the heroes were prepared. They had weathered these storms numerous times before and were not about to let the alien invaders take another inch from their city. Someone shouted something about the "Steel Seventy" and the battle was joined. Half a day later and the Rikti were reminded, once again, why it was a bad idea to mess with the City of Heroes...

I'm certain SOMEONE here has something cooking along those lines, Dirt.

I'm suddenly reminded of the rhetoric:

"A rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet..."

You guys are haggling over semantics and the definition of 1, 2, 3...

These things are NUMBERS! They aren't A, B, C, X, N, or any different variable. Numbers are used as because they are accepted as specific values of amount.

One, for instance, is a single noun. I use "noun" because it means person/place/thing/idea.

Two is the double of One.

Three is the triple of One, or Two plus One.

I'm not going to define every number in such a way. It's unnecessary, and (apologies, Acid) it's ludicrous to demand that people do so.

We're not saying n+n=4, we're saying 2+2=4. In all of mathematics, how in the Hell can 2+2=5? How can you possibly alter the definition of "2" in such a way that doubling it will equal "5" and still maintain the basic principles of mathematics? On top of that, why would you alter the definition just to arrive at that amount?

--Rikti Earth: Forgotten Sanctuary: Fighting Delta 5--

"Ah crap..." Grey grunted as he tossed aside the ravaged husk of the machine, slightly gripping it in such a way that it tore out a portion of the torso and left it wide open for pot shots. As he approached the battered body, he slapped his right arm against himself and it promptly disappeared, almost as if the stone had merged into itself.

"Come on, Acid, wake up," the tanker grunted, still in his stone form that wobbled back and form lazily as he rifled through his medication for something that might help, "I usually hang on to a Lazareen... Come on, where the Hell is it?"

----------

--Jade Moon: Rikti Warship--

Sheldon didn't answer the Khelari. He siphoned speed from his Aggressor one last time, tapped away at a datapad and bolted out of the room. The datapad he left behind had the diagnostics he had done, what he had found so far about his sector, and what was left to check. With any luck, the Vanguard crew that took his place would be able to pick up from there. He'd used U.S. Army administrative standards for his forms, so it shouldn't have been difficult for them.

Zipping down the hallways, he scanned the various signs and indicators that revealed to him where precisely he had to go. It was difficult at times, and he got lost infrequently (but it happened). Fortunately, he was able to correct himself accordingly before he'd gone too far down the wrong corridors, and he eventually found his way to Hangar 2.

Seeing that the Khelari had somehow beaten him, he quirked his head to the side, but didn't comment on it. He'd been beaten to plenty of locations, even when he knew from the get-go where he was going.

"Mr. Zero," he said as he approached (at normal speed), "I apologize if I gave the wrong impression, but my capabilities as a pilot are slim to none... I've read on the practice, but my actual experience is negligible. Certainly there are others on board who could assist you better than... Never mind. I just remembered Vanguard brought no helicopters with them, not that such experience would help you here..."

He made for the ship and took a deep breath.

"I have to inform you. Flight terrifies me. Space flight even more so..."

Oddly, his tone never changed.

"It won't affect my performance... Not until alarm klaxons start to blare... Which I've never had happen, it's just I don't know how I'm going to react when everything is out of control."

----------

--Rikti Earth: Hunting the Fleeing Drones--

Cory finished mumbling and Ryat66 appeared next to him.

"I'm here! What do you need me for, sir?"

Seeing the ensuing battle, he warbled an alarm and set his powerplant to standby for overdrive. Cory was, at the same time, casting enchantments to alter the air currents around them and focus their sight.

----------

--Paragon City: Crey's Folly: Second Malta Group Base--

It was a more established base than the last one. Below the trashed warehouse cover was a cold steel pristine environment. Kipland wondered vaguely as to why it was still clean after the considerable amount of debris that had to have occurred with the facility's construction. Not to mention the fact that these gun-toting goons couldn't have known how to weld the walls together with such perfect seams...

"Knock, knock, mother[censored]!" Kip shouted as he kicked a sapper's gun down the hall.

The weapon, set to overload, hit the floor and exploded. The energy draining blast caused the first patrol to clutch feebly at their weapons, and the momentary lapse in capability was enough to let the heroes get the drop on them. When the operatives we subdued, Matt took one who hadn't teleported away yet and set about questioning him.

"Alright, [diphead]," he spat, "I don't have time to be waiting for answers! This place looks like it's got some... Tell me what you know about the Slinger! Tell me what you know about his operations!"

"What are you talking about?" the operative shouted, "Slinger? What kind of meta name is that!?"

"Footsoldiers aren't likely to know anything, Mattock," Ryat99 stated, "I'm actually surprised he doesn't have a cyanide pill in a false tooth..."

"For your information, that tooth's impacted now and I can't move it," the operative said snidely, "Lousy dental plan..."

"Well, then we won't keep you around any longer," Kip said as he gave a sharp kick to the operative's forehead.

A moment later, the blue-uniformed man was gone, zapped to wherever it was Malta soldiers went when they were defeated. It certainly wasn't the Zig, otherwise more people would know about them.

"Alright, let's work our way, chamber to chamber, group to group... These guys like to pull tricks, let's not give them a chance to pull 'em off!" Kip explained, "Nester! Your machines in tip-top shape?"

"Systems are set and running smooth," the defender replied, "I'm as ready to go as I can be..."

"Alright... This door, then," Kip indicated the one they were next to, "I've been in these bases enough times to know they never station anybody down the hall... There's nothing there."

Don't worry Khell...

We have one positing a theory about being and inner-being...

We have another positing a similar theory, but with more focus on the capabilities of the environment...

And then we have Acid, who's being far too specific for any of this to work.

Me, I'm trying my damnedest to understand any of it, or why we would need to. Life can be complicated enough without trying to figure out the nitty-gritty details.

Still, I'm in agreement with Templar. Perhaps if I came across discussions like this more often, I wouldn't be having such trouble following this.

Grey's Army's involvement in the Second Rikti War wasn't much different from many of the other heroes of Paragon City, as such, there aren't many major stories to tell about it.

Two weeks in, after having to defend themselves and others on numerous occasions anyway, Randall, Kipland and Cory had their suspensions relieved. It was like clockwork, and the heroes made the best of their time on the streets, ushering civilians to safe zones and combating the invading alien menace.

The three top members of Grey's Army got a strange invitation halfway through the war, however. Power Breaker had contacted Randall and invited him to join the Vanguard. The introductions were strange (what with Lady Grey confused as to whether or not Randall was related to her; a notion which the tank resolutely refused), but the heroes set right to work in the drive to push the Rikti back.

Power Breaker looked happier than ever. He'd signed on to Vanguard as soon as they'd gone to the Rogue Isles looking for recruits. After such a long time of being looked upon as a villain, he finally had a chance to show that his violent power could be used for good.

"It's been amazing!" he shouted to Randall as the two of them tore through a Rikti base, "I've been working alongside Freedom Corps, Vanguard... I've been rescuing people, saving towns from being destroyed... My God... It's been a blast!"

"That's really funny," Randall grunted as he clobbered a Soldier into a wall, "Considering the fact that you look at your powers as a curse..."

"A curse of awesome," the brute replied with a chuckle before gripping a Portal with his bare hands and ripping it apart, "So long as I'm here with Vanguard, I don't need to worry about Arachnos or any of their plots or schemes or infighting..."

"So... You're running away from the problems, then?"

This gave the brute pause. He hadn't thought of it that way, and his nanites had been absorbed in learning about the Rikti language, so they hadn't been able to advise him lately. He gave the notion some thought, but dismissed it.

"They don't let you deal with your problems over there, Mr. Grey," Breaker intoned, "They push you to be the bad guy they want you to be, not the person you want to be... And I've been trying so hard to redeem myself under their radar... It just hasn't been helping."

"How'd they handle your turning on them?"

"Turned out there was a major [censored] somewhere else at the same time, and Recluse was more [ticked] about that," Breaker shrugged, "I didn't quite get off scot-free, but the big guy didn't want my head on a spike."

"So, here you are..." Randall mused, "What do you expect to find?"

"I don't know... Maybe something like..."

They emerged into a large chamber that was somewhat flooded. Three metal walkways pushed out across the water, the flanks studded with two circular platforms apiece, the central walkway ending in a wide, squarish platform with a ring-like structure in the center.

"Is that what it looks like, Randall?" Power Breaker asked.

Some other group of heroes and villains had already found and destroyed one of these chambers. The details of that battle had been relayed to a lot of the other volunteers who'd recently joined, and Randall and Power Breaker knew what would happen if they let this chamber get finished.

"Last time I found one of these, they quietly shuffled me aside," Power Breaker explained, "I'm not letting the Rikti build another one of these..."

Randall agreed and they fought their way toward the center. With a proper application of strength and force, they ensured the Rikti wouldn't be able to finish this machine here...

----------

Kipland decided to help assist in one of the raids in Talos Island. As the drop ships bombed away Kipland hopped to and fro, helping other heroes destroy the peculiar ordinance. The explosives had to be beaten into submission. Vanguard's instructions explained the explosion caused was much less than if the weapons were allowed to repair themselves and achieve their own personal critical mass...

After the bombing run came the Rikti ground assault. Kip kind of wished the roving gangs had stuck around to help fight, but that seemed to be the proof of their mettle. When the going truly got tough, the opportunists started to flee.

The battles was fierce. Anywhere there was a hero, the Rikti dropped in. The heroes put up a brave fight, newbies and veterans both. Eventually, they pushed the Rikti and their bizarre new battle drones to the hill next to the Green Line and set to work smashing the enemy lines.

Only Kipland wasn't among them.

Before he could join his foes, he heard something. It was like a whisper at first. As he tried to leave, it rapidly became a shout. Whirling about, he scanned for the source of the voice inside his head. It wasn't his soul, which had fallen back to the role of tactical adviser for the past couple weeks. It was female...

When he found the source, he nodded. It made sense.

"Let me see if I can pronounce this right," he said as he looked at his scanner, "Ahmi-Telor?"

Amyt'Allor stood before him, resplendent in the scarlet armor of the Rikti Mentalists. As a human, she'd barely cleared five feet in height. As a Rikti, she was still short for a Rikti, but she now towered over Kip at six feet and four inches. She hefted her axe and glowered down at him.

"Do you still love me?" if flowers could be considered to have a sound, that was what Kip was hearing inside his head along with the voice of his long-lost girlfriend, "Despite all that happened... Could you possibly retain some small shred of hope for me?"

Kip looked at her. There was nothing remaining of the lovely beauty of the young woman he'd loved since high school. When he'd found her only a couple months earlier, the process had been nearly complete, and there had been no way to reverse the process. He wondered vaguely when the Rikti had found her, and what she must have done to rise through their ranks so rapidly.

"I..." he gave it little thought, saying the first thing that came to mind, "I loved who you were. What you are now... You are a twisted perversion of the beautiful girl you should be."

Amyt'Allor swung the bladerifle down and dragged it across the pavement. Green sparks erupted where it scraped and she stopped it a few inches from her right foot.

"Plan: Failed. Initiate: Combat tactics."

"Don't make me do this," Durj warned.

Amyt'Allor lunged forward, a scream piercing into the center of the scrapper's mind. As he gripped the side of his head, she brought her weapon down. It stopped a foot from his neck, prevented from connecting with its target by being forced to bite into his forearm.

"I told you," his eyes started to glow, "Do not!"

He fired a blast of lasers from his eyes, scoring into the armor and startling his enemy. Whatever Amyt'Allor had gleaned from the memories of Amy Taylor, there had been quite a bit left out about Kip's connection to the metaphysical elements of the world. Of course, that was largely because Kip had never let Amy know about any of that.

"Do that!" he finished as he dropped to the ground and swept a kick out that tripped the towering alien to her back. Springing back up, he leaped to the sky and stomped on the rifle, smashing it. Before he could do anything else, however, he was suddenly in the air and being slammed back on the ground.

"Augh!" he coughed out as he tried to push himself back up, "That was a new trick..."

Suddenly he was rocketing into the remains of a parked car that had been laser sliced by a Rikti Dropship earlier. He looked to his Rikti opponent, and she dusted herself off.

"Enemy: Unworthy. Victory: Imminent."

"Oh good, they've got you spouting rhetoric," he spat, "What new bit of-AUGH!"

He got thrown against a light pole and started pushing himself up as soon as he hit the pavement.

"Okay, I'm done with this crap..."

Suddenly, he heard some music. Looking around, he wondered how he was able to hear when he saw Sarah Grey glaring at the fight from the top of a bus stop.

"Amy!" she shouted, "What the Hell are you doing!?"

The Rikti looked back quizzically at her old friend.

"Sarah?" she asked, sounding more herself than the Rikti she'd become.

"Damn straight!" the white-haired girl hopped down from her perch and floated gently to the pavement to stop just under the Mentalist's face, "Do you have any idea how [ticked] off this whole war is making me!? And now I see you here, fighting Kippers, my best friend, your boyfriend..."

"Assessment: Troubling?"

"What was that, Amy?" Sarah shouted, "You're wondering what I'm doing inside your head, tearing and rending at the garbage they did to you? You poor girl... You were happy once..."

The Rikti part of her enemy raised its claw to make some feeble last ditch attack, but Sarah batted the hand away. Kip walked up to them, confused as to what was happening.

"Kippers..." the Amy mumbled before slumping to the ground.

The two heroes caught her and lowered the body gently. Kip looked to his childhood friend, and she answered the unspoken question.

"People think the Rikti conditioning is part of their transmutation... It is, but it also requires extensive contact with their psychic network, whatever that is. They insert the Rikti dogma and doctrines, and try to flush out everything of the human before. Often they succeed, often they fail. Usually it's something in-between. Most of the Rikti's rank-and-file are from the ranks of the Lost, which were the disparate homeless... They're mostly still just themselves, they just accept what they've become and the new purpose that comes with it."

"So..." Kip's voice cracked a little, "What happened to Amy?"

"I don't know," Sarah stroked the forehead of her old friend, "You poor dear... They did something awful to her... She held on so strongly to who she was... But they needed troops and they had her... I'm sorry Kippers... I don't know how much of her is left..."

The skies cleared and the alerts shut down. Kip gazed upon the thing that was both his enemy and his first and only love and realized just how far gone he truly was. Simmons was right, he had been heading down a dark path. Just a little further that way, and he wouldn't have objected to simply snapping the Rikti's neck to end her and his misery.

But then what would he be?

"What do we do?" he asked numbly.

"Well, first, stop that drone," Sarah indicated the Police Drone rapidly approaching.

Kip walked up to the machine and looked straight into its sensory camera.

"Get lost," he told it.

It beeped back in confusion.

"Whoever's controlling this thing, we've got this one."

It warbled again.

"Don't make me punt you down the street! Beat it!"

The drone made an oddly hurt and freaked out squeal, but it left as it was ordered to. Kipland turned back to Sarah and Amyt'Allor and pulled up his communicator.

"Who are you calling?" Snuffy asked.

"His name's Angus McQueen... He should know a safe place to take Amy for rehabilitation..."

As he finished explaining the information to the FBI Agent, he heard a voice behind him.

"Kip?"

The two heroes looked back down to the Rikti, the friend they once knew, the enemy they had to fight. She looked back up at them with those blank, black eyes, but somehow they still conveyed the hurt she was feeling.

"Do you remember? Do you remember what I said?"

"You said to stop loving you," he choked.

"I didn't mean it..."

"I didn't do it..."

They didn't know what else to say. Sarah held both of their wrists as they all sat silently, waiting for Angus McQueen's agents to come by and help them.

----------

"Dammit!" Power Breaker shouted as his communicator blared again.

"What is it?" Randall grunted as the last of the Rikti soldiers started fleeing, "What's wrong?"

"Vanguard's headed over here... Agents of the Sword..."

"How close?"

"They're busting down the door right now," the brute replied, "We can't wreck this place in time..."

"We could just let them have it," Randy suggested, "Maybe if the VG have an understanding of the technology, they can come up with a way to-"

"They already tried that once, Randall!" Power Breaker shouted, "And that nearly cost us the war! You gotta read between the lines and flip through the footage! Every time they show it, it's only the footage of the good guys winning, the bad guys losing... Every single time! A little more is lost with every showing... Soon it'll be little more than a propaganda film!"

"So?"

"So!? So if we give the Rikti one more chance to pierce the veil between their world and ours like that again, they might just do it! Or Nemesis will punch through like he wants to! I am not letting that happen! Not this time!"

"Power Breaker! Randall Grey!" a gruff voice echoed throughout the cavern, "Stand down! We'll take it from here!"

"Randall," Breaker's spikes started to crackle, "You better do as he says..."

The tanker complied, but Power Breaker stayed in the center of the platform with the portal ring. The Vanguard troops aimed their rifles at the Brute, but he snorted.

Red lightning erupted from his spikes and scored into the equipment. Metal scored, electronics exploded, and the ring bent and twisted with the excessive heat.

Long since the energy should have stopped, but something clicked in Power breaker's head, and he accessed something that he should not have had any knowledge of in a sane world. The lightning suddenly increased in intensity and extended from the brute in a massive orb of electric plasma.

When the light cleared away and the soldiers and Randall's eyes readjusted to the light, Power Breaker stood in the center of the room. He glowed a deep crimson, but he seemed fine, otherwise.

"Now I'm ready to go," he growled at the Vanguard soldiers, "And if you're gonna shoot me, then shoot me. Just don't be too surprised when I hit back."

The troops slung their weapons and the officer in charge shrugged.

"Hey, we got here too late to stop an overzealous strike. Oh well, too bad, it's war. These things happen. Alright boys, there's plenty of battle out there, let's move out!"

"You alright, Harris?" Randall asked as Power Breaker drew close.

"I feel perfectly fine," the cyborg replied, "I feel better than I have in..."

He looked off into the distance.

"...Ever..."

Just because something exists doesn't mean it thinks. Our thinking helps us to understand that we exist. Some take it to the next level to learn the why of it.

[ QUOTE ]
it's not my perception of the environment that interests me, it's the environments perceptions of me.

[/ QUOTE ]

Sounds like someone who spends his life trying to please others. the problem is, your environment doesn't perceive you. It goes on doing what it does, regardless of you, sometimes even despite your interaction with it. While I can't necessarily fault your out-of-the-box thinking, there's a reason why Occam's Razor is applied to scientific problems and conundrums so often.

The simple answer is most often the right one, regardless of the complexity of the problem.

Now, you want complexity, I can offer up some complexity. Somewhere along my path of Life, I came across a theory that insinuated that everything, the very atoms that make up everything, is actually a little universe. That within these myriad of the building blocks of material, could be galaxies, stars, planets, and even people and other animals.

Now, take our world... To use a simple application, we perceive God is out there, watching us. However, the things we do cannot change the revolution of the Earth for his approval, amusement, or any other opinion He may have.

Now take these micro-universes in fact, take them from the quantum field. Suppose we are gods unto the inhabitants of these tiny worlds. You posit that the field acts the way it does because it's expected to. If we cannot change our world's axis, how are they supposed to bend their universe a proper way, simply to appease us during an experiment?

I can expect something to happen all I want. I could expect to win the lottery. I could expect to be able to blow fire from my lungs. I could expect to find a bikini model in my bed with me when I wake up.

That doesn't mean, by any stretch of the imagination, that it's going to happen.

The things that happen in experiments happen the way they do because of the chemical, physical, and energetic reactions between the materials used. My wallet is no more aware than my lightbulb. My spike bracelet has as much personality as my work boots.

Instead of trying to find ways to confound our current understandings, perhaps it's time to look for something more worthwhile.

NOTE: Please spell check. You've got some interesting ideas, but it's torture trying to get past the grammatical errors while digesting these notions.

((Oh man! I missed this thread!

Jumping the gun a little, but I felt inspired...))

Mako: "Merry Christmas, everyone!"

Scirocco: *looks disgusted at the contents of his gift* "Oh my... Mako... A severed head... and it looks like it's been skinned..."

Mako: "You wouldn't believe how hard that was to do while the guy was still alive!"

Black Scorpion: *Looks shocked at his gift* "What the Hell is this?"

Mako: "It's somebody's [butt] on a plate!"

Black Scorpion: "Oh... Okay."

Ghost Widow: "I'm not opening this."

Mako: "Oh, come on! It's something I know you'll really like."

Ghost Widow: "I know what it is, Mako. I'm not opening this box."

Scirocco: "Though I'm frightened beyond imagining... I can't help but ask what's in the box?"

Mako: "Okay, I'll give you a hint... What is it that men ha-"

Scirocco: "STOP!"

Lord Recluse starts to open his gift.

Scirocco & Ghost Widow: *frantic* "SIR! No! Sir! Don't do that!"

*Lord Recluse is quiet for a moment as he ponders what's inside the box. Mako preens eagerly in anticipation. The rest of the room's occupants are holding their breath.

Lord Recluse withdraws his hands from the box and presents the onlookers with a puppy!*

Lord Recluse: "Captain Mako?"

Mako: "Yes?"

Lord Recluse: "I love him! Aw... Isn't he sooo cuuute!? I'm gonna name him Rufflebear and he'll be our new mascot!"

Well, this section does have a lower propensity toward hooliganism and tomfoolery.

I think the OP was searching for intelligent debate...

Unless this is a prelude to an RP...

--Rikti Earth: Forgotten Sanctuary: At War with Delta 5--

Randall smiled under his granite armor and flexed again. The floor below him seemed to explode for a moment as dirt and rock wrapped about his legs, rooting him to the floor. The tank then extended his arms out wide, and when Delta 5 slammed into him, he wrapped his arms around the machine's torso in a metal-crushing bear hug.

"Zap me now," he grunted at it as he exerted a little more force, "I dare ya..."

----------

--Prime Earth: Paragon City: Crey's Folly: Outside the Second Base on the List--

"This is the next place," Kip said as he kicked open the door, "Hey, Malta Group! You in there?"

There was a moment of silence before a stunned "...No?"

"Perhaps they're not the Malta Group," Nester suggested as his brother rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I got off suspension in the middle of this whole mess," the scrapper was grumbling, "Randy's off saving the world... I'm stuck here... Dealing with... Nevermind. Even if these aren't the idiots we're supposed to smash into the walls, they're idiots that need smashing into the walls."

"Alright!" Matt shouted as he drew his katana and started marching inside, "Another display of bad-guy-ginsu, on the way!"

"Remember," Ryat99 grabbed Matt before he could get through the doorway, "Sappers first. We don't need another case of feeling like crap when fighting these jerks..."

"Make no mistake," Kip concurred, "these guys, even the dumbest of these guys, are trained enough to be able to take advantage of any weakness we display."

"Well how are they going to do that," Matt kicked the door open, "When the only weakness we've shown so far is a predilection toward kicking their [butts]? Doesn't seem like there's a winning strategy there..."

"Not for them," Nester mused, "Perhaps we should have asked for Nemesis bases, too..."

"No way, nuh-uh," Kip said as he followed Matt in, "I'm not making anymore trips after this batch. We either find a way through to Randall by way of the Malta Group, or we go somewhere else. I'm not smashing my way through the Brass Horde."

"If we were just trying to get to Randall, I'd have hopped through the portal with Cory and Sixty-six," Matt snorted, "They got the portal fixed hours ago."

"Then what the [Hell] are we doing here!?"

"We're finding out what these guys have to do with the portal being damaged in the first place."

As Nester applied the proper nanite buffers and Kip tapped his foot, Ryat99 wound up making the decision.

"We're going ahead with our current plan," he rumbled, "If only because we know that tearing into the Malta Group is good for the world. Plenty of pick-up groups have been formed for the same reason. Besides, one of these bases is bound to have the information we need. I doubt Crimson and Indigo would string us along that badly..."

"Oh they would," Kip nodded vigorously, "I happen to know they would."

"Well we're going on, anyway. Matt's going because he doesn't know when to quit... I'm going because I promised not to let him get himself killed. Kip, you're going because you've committed yourself to this task, and you're like Matt, you don't know when to quit..."

"Why am I going?" Nester asked.

"You're going because we say so," the android finished, "Now, armor up, kick out the buffs, and let's get crackin'!"

I see philosophy and existentialism here...

But very little experiment.

I don't give much thought to existentialism. Knowing where I came from, where I am and the myriad possibilities of where I'm going is nice, but to excessively complicate it by trying to quantify it, enmesh it with my dreams, and further add to the confusion with an unnecessarily cumbersome vocabulary is only going to further disinterest me.

Worse yet, is the type of reception discussions like this usually tend to receive. Often, individuals who do not take these topics seriously (or simply do not understand them in any fashion) tend toward mockery and other forms of ignorance. While such behavior can be ignored by the key debaters, it clouds the minds of other observers (as the mockery tends to be humorous and eye-catching), and further perverts the overall discussion. Sadly, it may even corrupt the debaters, who may resort to such tactics themselves as the discussion wears on...

The best I can add here is the old addage "I think, therefore, I am." I don't need to worry about my existence, because I already exist. The real hard part, I've found in life, is learning what to do with my limited time.

Roland Grey broke from his patrols to take a break in an Up 'N Away burger shop in Skyway City. He was a little surprised to find Kip there.

"How's it been, man?"

"Been alright actually," Kip replied coolly as he gestured for his friend to take the seat opposite him, "First day I was getting reacquainted with some of my favorite music... But I kept getting this nagging voice in my head reminding me I couldn't remember why I liked it, regardless of how loud I turned it... Then the supervisor yelled at me and I was forced to deal with the voice with a heavy metal ambiance..."

"Sounds rough... You seem to be doing alright, though."

"Well..." Kip sighed and took a swig from his drink, "It's just that... I don't know. It's like I'm getting reacquainted with an old sibling I never knew I had..."

"Hm," was all the pudgy defender could say.

"Any blowback for you?" Kip asked.

"No. Frankly, I can't believe Dad said that, but I forgot his memory doesn't work like mine does. He still thinks of all that as just last week."

"Cripes, to Randy, the first Rikti attacks were last week. We saved your mom on Thursday."

They chuckled at that. Roland's order came up and he went to get it. If he'd been prone to emotional outbursts, his heart would have skipped a beat at who he ran into as he retrieved his lunch.

"Kip," he said as he brought her back, "This is-"

"Ms. Starburst," the suspended scrapper narrowed his eyes, "I know. How do you do?"

She pulled a chair over to the table and joined them. It was clear she was a little nervous. Kip could only imagine what was going through her head, Roland didn't even bother with speculation.

"So... What brings you to our nick of the woods?"

"I..." she started, "Look, guys, to start, I want you to know I'm sorry about what happened to your group..."

"Don't apologize," Kip interrupted, "You did what you had to do. Besides, if anything, Randy and I needed the vacation."

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

"My dad's been spending the time getting preparations ready for my sister's wedding," Roland shrugged, "He's never one to waste his time..."

"And I didn't realize how good it can feel to do absolutely nothing."

"Seriously?"

"Nope. I just watched a guy get pickpocketed outside that window, and it's taking every bit of my will to stay in this seat and finish my meal."

Ms. Liberty turned, but she knew she wouldn't see what the other had. It must have been one of those "collision picks," where the victim doesn't realize the crime until it's much to late.

"Well, you guys can't jsut run around doing whatever the Hell you want, doing God knows what..." she turned back and looked at Kip, who was getting back to his meal, "Kip... How did you know who I am?"

"Anatomy recognition helps bring down monsters. Most major veins and arteries follow the same network in different creatures, mammal and reptile. Especially when they look human."

"I don't follow..."

Kip looked up to Roland, then to her. Swallowing his food, he contemplated the best way to continue explaining.

"I learned about anatomy to help me with one thing, but learned other things along the way. I learned how to staunch bloodflow, how to manipulate pressure points, and, most importantly, arteries and veins. However, along with that..."

He rubbed his cheek bone.

"I learned how to recognize certain qualities most people overlook. You don't look much different without your mask, you know. You're just plumb lucky there are a lot of cute blondes out there."

"Thanks," she said almost disgustedly.

"Kip was one of two people who learned of your duality aside from me," Roland explained, "He took one look at a picture I had of you and knew. Dad had the same reaction."

"You didn't tell them that we-!"

"Of course not," Round snorted, half humorously and half derisively, "My dad was just being a jerk when he said what he said... He was just trying to throw you off your cool and he used what he knew would work. Old men tend to do that."

Ms. Liberty chuckled.

"Well, I interviewed with Agent Wild... As your liaison, he should have been able to warn us about your little..."

"Incident seems to be the word that follows us a lot," Kip offered, "The Cube, The Crystal, The Inevitable... What's this? The Assault Incident?"

"We'll come up with a title later," she chuckled, "In any case, it seems Wild was conducting his own clandestine operation..."

"So what did you do to him?" the two males asked, almost like they were looking for a laugh.

"I put him to work clearing the sewers of the Vahzilok zombie menace."

"Ouch..."

"If it weren't for the fact that he was working for two people whom I respect, and the mission they'd conducted was a success, I would have considered repealing his Field license."

"He might just quit, then," Roland warned, "He's a pragmatic individual, but he can't accept going in reverse in his career..."

They ate in silence together for some time, the din of the other patrons keeping their thoughts occupied.

"Maybe it's just this year," Kip suddenly said, "All this karma dragging us together."

"With any luck," she agreed, "We can all get on to better things."

"I wonder if Statesman said the same thing when he first started doing this kind of work," Roland asked, "That it would probably be a temporary thing..."

"He had his reasons for thinking otherwise, Roland..." she answered, "He just didn't know the nightmares to follow... Well, I'll leave you two to your lunch. Thank you for being understanding..."

"Well, I had to bonk my head against the wall a couple times this morning to get it to make sense, but yeah," Kip extended his hand to the Freedom Corps leader, "you have a good one."

After she left the small man sighed.

"I don't know if she was trying to bait us or just talk to you."

"Perhaps a little bit of both," Roland mused, "And it wasn't baiting, it was testing. If Dad hadn't said what he'd said..."

"What did go on between you two? You got hit by that other and suddenly you're never talking about Starburst anymore."

"I told her what I'd been theorizing and she revealed her identity," Roland shrugged, "After that, well... You read the papers and see the news. She doesn't have a lot of leisure time, and what little bit she gets, I bet she has better to do than just hang out with some husky newbie hero who may or may not be here tomorrow."

"Will you be here tomorrow?" Kip arched an eyebrow as he drank the last out of his cup.

"Yeah, but I'm taking a break this Fall. It's huntin' season, after all!"

----------

Roland had decided to take a break from patrolling for the rest of the day. He and Kip got a hold of Nester and his girlfriend and strolled around the mall.

"How've things been going with you two?" Kip asked, "Cripes... I hardly even realized you two were dating..."

"Things have been great," Mindy hugged Nester's arm, "Oh! Did you know Misty's pregnant?"

"No..." Kip scratched the back of his head, "Aaron's, right?"

"Of course!" Nester looked incredulously at his brother, "Where have you been?"

"A dark place, it seems..."

"Well, you may not be able to crack skulls open for another couple weeks, but we can always hit the arcade and blast your emo frustrations away..."

"Thanks, bro," Kip shook his head irritatedly, "Way to put my current emotional state in perspective."

"Well come on, man! You used to be so... so..."

"Full of pith," Roland remarked, "Pith and Vinegar."

"Guts and Acid," Kip grinned, "A wonderful mix..."

"Can we see a movie?" Mindy suggested.

They debated on what movie they wanted to see. Mindy insisted the drama would be good for everyone, Kip and Nester seemed to be settled on the mindless action flick. Roland shook his head irritatedly and indicated he'd rather see the horror movie.

"It's got the old west and cannibalism," he explained, "And it looks unique among a whole bunch of other movies that are always the same..."

"How are they the same?" Mindy asked.

"Guy and girl fall in love and live happily ever after in yours, Min; Good Guys win, Bad Guys lose and the American Way prevails, with lots of bullet casings and corpses littering the ground in yours, guys. At least with horror there's a chance to be surprised by something."

"Sounds..." Kip was about to agree with Roland further when there was a sudden electric short-out sound.

"What the Hell was that?" Nester asked as he walked over to the windows along with many other people.

At first, he couldn't figure out what the issue was. The lights were still on throughout Skyway City and business seemed to be going on as usual.

"Oh my God..." Mindy gasped, "Nester, look!"

He turned his eyes to where she pointed. Again, he couldn't see what she was pointing at. Then he realized it as his brother cursed loudly. His not seeing it was exactly the point.

The bright blue glow of the War Walls was gone. Air Raid sirens blared, radios and televisions relayed that people needed to find shelter. Paragon City was under attack.