Mr_Grey

"It's over, Retsen," Ezekiel shouted over the sounds of battle across Independence Port, "Your bombs are being found, either because your buddies told us already, or they're being found on accident. Your goons are getting trashed like last week's garbage, and we've got you outflanked..."

Nester and Zeke had acquired a small cadre of heroes. It was mostly a motley pick-up group, but they'd all worked well together when defeating various "Dark-Mirrors" of the team members, as well as some of those nasty "Heavies" that had dropped in unexpectedly. It was a nice mix, a controller to complement Nester, a scrapper and a tank, a blaster, another defender that specialized in "dark magic," and a Peacebringer.

"I'm not beaten yet," Jrud shouted mechanically.

He was in bad shape. His metallic body had been punctured repeatedly by the blaster's energy beams, the tank and scrapper had knocked him around a couple times with a mace and a broadsword, plus, the controller was a fire type (with shielding magics as her secondary specialty), and she was an artist with her flames, really working them into the anti-defender's exposed circuitry.

Somehow, he was still moving, still thinking... Still a threat.

"Just surrender," Nester muttered quietly, half wishing that he wouldn't, "This will all be over if you surrender."

"No..." Jrud's eyes flashed brightly, "This is over when I say it's over..."

Nester's visor noticed a sudden discrepancy, and he put a finger on the dial on the right side of his helmet. Rolling the dial, he zoomed in on the discrepancy and noticed that Jrud's eyes were flicking a series of numbers where normal people would have irises and pupils.

"You're running out of time..." Jrud laughed, "You're running out of time!"

"He's a bomb, too!" Nester shouted.

"Madman!" the female scrapper shouted as she drove the blade deep into Jrud's belly, "We have ways of stopping you!"
"And I cheat..." the anti-defender chuckled as his fist suddenly shout out of his forearm like a rocket.

It impacted on the girl's belly, and she was sent flying across the bay, and toward (sadly) the waiting tentacles of the Giant Octopus, Lusca.

"Help!"

"I'll save her!" the Peacebringer shouted, but Ezekiel was faster.

With a gesture, he teleported the girl back while the tank and Nester closed with Retsen. The dark-hooded defender and the zombie-like blaster stood back and tried to offer fire-support.

Retsen was still offering surprises. His missing arm was replaced by a beam of glowing green radiation that resembled a sword blade. He used this weapon to hold back the medieval-armored tank, but didn't count on Nester yanking out the broadsword.

"Here," he shouted as he threw the weapon to its owner, "I wouldn't know where to begin..."

A wave of nausea hit him, and he realized he'd been skewered by Retsen's blade. Rolling his eyes, Nester hit a button that kicked on the Healing Wave Generator and his injuries started to close, as well as those of the tank.

"Come on, Jrud... You knew it would be like this..."

Retsen replied with an eye-beam blast that Nester's Defensive Matrix actually deflected. Distracted, Jrud didn't notice the mace swinging into his shoulder, either.

"I got him!" Nester shouted suddenly before the tank could deliver a final crushing blow.

The defender dove forward and caught his opposite under the shoulders. Holding him in a bear hug, he took to the skies.

"Nester!" Zeke shouted at him, "What are you doing?"

Too close for his enemy to maneuver, all Nester had to make sure of was that Jrud didn't get him with the eye beams. Snaking his head left and right, he avoided the attacks, as well as a few nasty headbutts.

"You think hoisting me into the air is going to stop me?" Retsen finally shouted at him, "I will destroy us both, and the radioactive fallout will contaminate this region!"

"I knew you'd say that," Nester replied softly, "A part of me hoped you wouldn't, that we'd only have to beat you down before we could try to fix you... But you're an all-or-nothing type... You can't beat us, so you'll kill us, yourself, and any number of innocent lives in your mad quest to... Well, you probably don't even remember anymore."

"Ready?" he heard in his ear.

"Ready."

"What?" Retsen cocked his head to one side and Nester let him go.

Floating there in the air, Retsen was left wondering at the fire controller suddenly appearing behind Nester. She snaked an arm around Nester's shoulder and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her left hand, she shot out at Jrud, and a green orb appeared there.

"What's that gonna..."

Jrud was encased within an energy orb. Nester couldn't hear him anymore. Nobody could hear his screams. Nobody could hear him smashing his hands against the energy field holding him in. Nester kicked on his Invigoration Wave Generator, jsut in case the girl needed it for the shield, but she said they were fine.

Jrud's explosion made the energy shield pop, and a cloud of green gasses floated from it. The controller created another orb and encased the gasses within it, compressed them, then dropped the orb to Zeke, who opened a portal to another dimension and dropped it in there.

"Waste management," Ezekiel muttered in a strange voice, "Never figured I'd be used for something so mundane."

"You're lucky you're even allowed to go around at all!" the Peacebringer shouted at him in a voice very unlike the one she had earlier, "If these people knew what you did..."

"Nester and Zeke do," it was Zeke's Nictus that was talking, not the man, "And I'll thank you kindly to respect the fact that I am working for the recognized authorities here, I'm under probation, and I have to meet regularly with Shadowstar to report my activities."

"I was at the battle of-"

"Nerrogazzad," Androm'Geizzer finished, "I know. If you want to talk about it, let me know... Just..."

The Peabringer suddenly shook her head and the human face suddenly looked very irritated.

"That's enough M'drael," she intoned, "I'm sorry, Zeke. She's been yammering on since we started teaming..."

"It's fine," Zeke replied, "I had a feeling this was going to happen a lot after Androm woke up."

"This is neither the place, nor the time, though," Nester suddenly declared as he lowered to teh ground, "Excellent job, Fireshield."

"Thanks," the controller replied, "I wish it had turned out better..."

"It should have been Cobalt that did that... Took down Jrud, I mean... I would have done his heart some good," Nester sighed, "Well... Who has something else we can do?"

"Ooh!" the scrapper suddenly jumped up, her eyes twinkling, "I hear there's a small nest in the southwest corner of the Heavy types! I just had a personal message sent to me by a friend... He said they need help!"

"Well, what are we waiting for?" the tank hefted up his mace and prepared to start leaping away, "To arms!"

As the others left the area, Zeke held his son back.

"You okay?"

"That last fight..." Nester sighed, "It just seemed so... Anti-climactic."

"Not everything can be like a storybook," Zeke shook his head, "Especially in war. We rarely have time for the long, drawn-out battle sequences, you know?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, let's get to helping those idiots before they let the Heavies get out. And Nester..."

"Dad?"

"Next time you go and hug an atomic bomb, would you mind telling me that you have a plan ahead of time? Unless, of course, you figure you can heal a heart attack with those gizmos..."

Nester winced.

"Oh... Sorry... Fireshield and I worked out the idea after we helped take down her opposite..."

"Ah."

Zeke disappeared suddenly in a cloud of black and purple smoke. Nester took to the skies and started heading southwest. It was a depressing end to a scary adventure, but one major threat was over. Now they had to deal with the thousands of other threats throughout the city.

----

"We need to send someone into Baumton to find out what's going on."

Positron looked across the crowd of heroes congregated around him. They were holding the breach in the war wall, but there was a problem with the doors. They wouldn't close.

"That's not such a bad thing," an Outcast standing next to a congregation of his fellow gang members shouted, "You can't just let them die!"

He was suddenly reinforced by the shouting of numerous criminals from around the city zone. For now, they were being left alone. Everybody had heard of the uneasy truce the Outcasts had made with the Trolls in the Hollows, and the heroes there that were waging a nasty war with the invaders.

For now, the truce seemed to have spread across the city. It didn't help that the Heavies had destroyed many prominent operations among the various villainous organizations. For instance, along with how the Clockwork helping Freedom Corps forces in Atlas Park, the Sky Raiders seemed to be patrolling Terra Volta, gunning down any Praetorian sabotage they find (that's their job, dammit!), and the Freakshow seemed to have no qualms about who they cut open, hero or otherwise.

"We don't want anyone to die," the hero leader of Steel Canyon shouted down the angry gangers, "But we can't be holding this gate forever... We need to commence a massive counter-attack, and to do that, we'll need information on what's going on inside there..."

Sheldon shouldered his way through the crowd and wound up standing next to Cedric and Ryat66. Ryat seemed to be bouncing a little happily.

"Heard about your brothers, huh?"

"They're charging through Galaxy City," the android chirped back, "The Praetorians don't know what's hitting 'em!"

"What was that?" Positron asked in their direction.

Sheldon looked up calmly as Cedric turned to him with a regarding stare. In fact, lots of eyes turned toward the inventor.

"Oh..." Sheldon replied calmly, "Well... Let's see... you need a scouting party of some sort... Perhaps..."

He rubbed his chin.

"Yes... Yes I believe I have just what you need for this, sir..."

----

"Be careful with these Cataphracts," Positron muttered as he handed over the control codes to Wallace, "I wouldn't even be giving these to you, but this is by far one of the best plans anybody could come up with."

"Aside from that guy," Ryat66 pointed at Cedric, who was bounding off into the distance wearing military fatigues and camouflage paint.

"Yes, well, we need to know what a direct assault will be like," Positron stated calmly, "Mr. Wallace... When this is all over... I'd like to talk to you about this machine you've made..."

He was indicating the peculiar walking tank the gravity controller currently sat in. Fully deployed, it now looked more to be a blend of a Nemesis Warhulk, a Sky Raider Sky Skiff, and a Zeus Class Titan.

"You mean me?" Ryat66 asked, largely oblivious to the uneasiness most heroes had around Sheldon, "Do my brothers and sisters and I pique your interest?"

The major hero turned to Sheldon. Even behind his helmet, he seemed to be glaring at the inventor.

"Oh yes," he intoned, "You and I need to have a very frank discussion."

"Later," Wallace replied darkly, "Right now, I have a scouting mission to conduct."

Five Cataphracts. That, and Sheldon's walking tank, which outstripped their landspeed by only a few feet per hour. That was fine, though. They were heavily armed and armored tanks and androids. They were designed to be a slow-moving impenetrable line.

Sheldon analyzed what his sensors were picking up. There were very few living beings in the region. In fact, it seemed a lot of the outcasts who weren't able to flee had quite possibly been killed. The Council probably went down fighting. Lord knew what the Clockwork were probably doing. In all probability, Babbage was waging a small siege on the Praetorian insertion point.

"Pray we're that lucky," Sheldon rolled his eyes, then he focused on an alert coming up, "Uh-oh... Praetorians over the next ridge."

It was a small patrol. Roughly twelve of the human-types. No machines among them. In fact, they were mostly comprised of Marauder's personal shock troops.

Seeing Wallace's tank first, their leader, a Destroyer, let loose a warcry and pushed his troops into a frenzy to charge the "hapless" hero. Sheldon fired the chaingun at them, riddling the offenders with chalk rounds and knocking some of them to the ground. When the tougher ones got too close, Sheldon ordered the Cataphracts to bombard them.

"Hm. I am not impressed," Sheldon muttered as he pressed on.

"My life right now is discomfort..." Psycho13 muttered, "Now I just deal with it... mitigate it... take payment for it..."

His face seemed to collapse a little on itself as he considered the prior "payments" he'd exacted earlier. It caused him to nearly close his right eye, arch his left eyebrow, purse his lips and crinkle his nose. It made an ugly face only worse.

"No..." he finally barked a laugh to Baalial, "No, I won't be doing anything like that to you. Besides, you probably saved my life, so it's all good."

He turned to Hotaka.

"If you want, I could drop-kick your spine... There's a chance I'll knock it back in place..."

He grinned broadly.

"Not a very probable chance, but a chance nonetheless."

May as well post one for my SG here, seeing as how I'm looking to acquire new members...

[u]Grey's Army[u]

*Hero Side
*No website
*No Global Channel
*Lead Recruiter: Randall Grey (at the moment)
*Preferred method of contact: E-mail, Tell...
*Preferred Recruiting method: Frankly, I don't have one. Usually, by the time I get around to wanting to invite someone to my SG, they're already snatched up by somebody else. I prefer to recruit based on merit, I would like to know that you're a player of the game, and not just a number-cruncher. I've seen the game's floors enough times to know that this game is full of curve balls, number-crunching just doesn't cut it.
I also like to make sure people are cool, and tend not to cause arguments because they're anonymous, or I'd like to check and see if they're likely to steal from the SG and bail.

*Description: Utility style SG. I'm working on generating enough prestige at the moment to build a base that will facilitate transporter and medical needs for its members. Currently, it has the Invention Table needs (Invention Table, Vault) filled out, as well as Enhancement Storage, Inspiration Storage, and Salvage Storage. Currently only using Tech Salvage.

I only ask that players stay in SG mode until they reach level 24. From there, it's their choice whether or not they want to keep putting in to the SG. I don't hound players for "base money" and I'm coaligned up enough to be able to facilitate most transportation across the city (thank you Screamin' Meme and Pyromus, owners of Meme's Mansion of Mighty Heroes and the Iron Fists of Justice respectively).

Currently, transporters have access to Brickstown, King's Row, Terra Volta, and Perez Park. I have other beacons, but am having trouble filling out the rest of the base due to the fact that I'm the only person acquiring funds for it at the moment.

I have an idea rattling around in my head that you can go ahead and use.

The House of the Iron Hand.

A former martial arts dojo, now just a den of thugs and thieves.

"Ah, [dung] son!" Psycho13 shouted as he started zipping toward the rocks and pulling them away, "Just... like... stacking... wood..."

He kept zipping along, pulling away stones. He seemed to be taking one large (roughly basketball-sized) rock a second and depositing it off to the side of everything else. Smaller rocks seemed to cascade off the mound of rubble from the momentum.

"You... guys... go... on... I'll... keep... at... this..."

Zip... zip-zip... zip-zip... zip-zip... zip-zip... zip-zip... zip-zip...

I usually look at it like this...

Heroes are sanctioned. The government pays them a modest salary for keeping the peace in troubled urban areas, such as Paragon City (usually through Freedom Corps, but they could also be working for the Police, Hero Corps, or any number of other major hero groups as mentioned in teh CoH/V history; my main characters operate as a subsidiary of Freedom Corps, as it was easier to register that way), and the media spin is usually on their side.

"Villains," on the other hand, are not sanctioned. They are just as super powered as the Heroes, but they're hunted down by the law at every turn. Officially, this is the reason you're constantly fighting Arachnos troops.

Essentially, the idea is that there's no difference between a Brute, a Scrapper or a Tank physiologically. However, since a Brute prepares himself for entirely different tactics, he comes off (plays) differently. Scrappers hit hard and hit fast, Tanks weather the fight, and Brutes work themselves into a frenzy, starting by weathering the blows and ending up hitting hard and hitting fast.

"Villains" can't count on support. Heroes can. Each villain type is apparently designed to be able to run solo. It takes a lot more work to make a Hero that can do the same, and some powersets Hero-side just negate the possibility, but most (if not all) of the "Villain" powersets complement nicely.

Now, the short answer to your question...

I don't view any of these characters as Heroes or Villains. They're just super-powered, or extremely capable people, trying make good in the world, or trying to get by.

Psycho13 checked the civilians they'd rescued. Amazingly, thanks to Baalial's crazy maneuvering and Psycho's ever-softening body, everybody seemed pretty much ship-shape.

"Relax," he assured most of them, "The bloodlust is gone... For the most part... Not for you! I don't want to kill you!"

They stared at him silently, worry in their eyes.

"No, I'm not about to say 'but I will!' Wait! I said I'm NOT gonna.... And they're running away..."

Sighing, he turned back to the rest of the group and noticed the sullen faces.

"Okay... Quick tally... Who'd we lose?"

When they informed him, he grimaced.

"Aw, man... He seemed really cool... No offense, Mr. Lawyer, sir... But I kinda had more bets in my head on him making it out of this than you..."

((Just one request... Please... Please stop altering the text color... It's nifty, yes, but it burns my eyes! My eyes! They burn!

Also, welcome to the RP section of the forum. Please, don't let the insane ravings of the regulars frighten you off.))

None of the Villain Patrons really fit into any one category.

Mako, for instance, comes off as a Brute type, too, but he also has strong leanings into the Stalker Class. Scirrocco is apparently a Corrupter, but he also has leanings to the Stalker class, and Ghost Widow is obviously mainly a Dominator-type, but she has nifty little toys no player seems to have access to...

Black Scorpion always strikes me as a blend of a Brute and a Corrupter. Heavy armor and heavy ranged weaponry with a couple melee attacks for backup. An exceptionally dangerous combination.

Paragonwiki has his powers listed pretty clearly.

I may as well post this here first...

Power Breaker.
Age: 29

((This character has come along quite nicely since I first created him. He was developed to be two things. One, a brute in the simplest terms. Two, I wanted to point out that the quote, that the greatness of our criminal justice system is that even if it "lets a million guilty men go, it will keep the innocent from being punished" is false. Our criminal justice system is a popularity contest. If the prosecution can simply paint a bad picture about you, the jury will very likely find you guilty.

Then there's the Simpsons quote: "...And if it's a crime to bribe a jury, then I'll soon be guilty of that!"))

Power Breaker started life as Raymond Harris. In his teen years, his mother left the family because she was tired of being abused (mostly verbally) by Ray's father, Eric Harris, a sergeant in the Paragon Police Department's King's Row precinct. With his mother gone, Raymond's father turned his ire on the boy.

With his faith in home, the law, and most forms of authority shattered, Harris turned to the more criminal elements in his school. He rapidly gained the attention of some of the younger punks employed by the Family as couriers.

While he was an enforcer of his clique in high school, he remained at the courier level after dropping out (it wasn't that he didn't understand the material, he just couldn't figure out how he'd be applying it). Transporting packages of anything, from drugs to payrolls, to even a few rare weapons shipments (small arms, nothing major or expensive, and only in very small quantities) between Skyway City and Steel Canyon.

Shortly after the Rikti War, the Family was working hard at getting their economy running again. Unfortunately, they were suffering on multiple tertiary fronts, not the least of which was the degradation of the youth elements in Steel Canyon, Skyway City, King's Row and Atlas Park, plus the introduction of a new gang called the Tsoo, which was putting a new element in the competition.

Harris proved surprisingly adept at circumventing the various elements of opposition. Unfortunately, he came across a murder in progress. The Outcasts, though normally cordial to them, had been chafing under Tsoo influence, and Ray found himself looking on an Initiate blasting a Tsoo courier in the chest with a high-caliber revolver.

As the Outcast fled the scene, Harris tried to save the courier's life. They may have been enemies, but Ray still had something of a heart. Unfortunately, the courier did not... Or, he would have, if the Outcast hadn't shot it.

When Randall Grey found him, he was forced to bring Harris to the nearest precinct. Unfortunately, the justice system seemed to run away on the two of them something fierce.

The District Attorney was trying to improve the city's image, so she wound up prosecuting Raymond. The trial was mostly a token occurrence, and while Randall tried to testify on Harris's behalf, the jury was quick to level a guilty verdict as a statement...

One didn't have to be super-powered to commit heinous crimes.

That was how Raymond Harris, a man who was guilty of numerous other crimes, found himself sent to the Zig on a life sentence. That was okay, though. The Tsoo had every intent of making sure he wasn't staying there much longer.

It turned out that the victim of the murder was the nephew of a high-ranking Tsoo member, and he organized a hit aimed at Harris. While walking to the cafeteria for lunch, their assassin struck from an outgoing line using a set of makeshift claws forged from cafeteria flatware.

Raymond would have died if it weren't for the fact that Crey Industries had come up with a radical life-saving procedure. They only needed someone to test it on, and Harris became a prime candidate.

He went under at a height of 5'11" with his stomach torn open and unable to see out one eye. When he came to, he was a gargantuan eight-foot-tall monster, comparable in size to the hero who arrested him.

Oddly enough, Harris held no grudge against Grey. Something about the gruff giant of a man nudged the petty crook's concept of respect, and he had been hoping to possibly get to know the bizarre old man after his appeal.

No appeal would go through now, though. No jury would let a beast like this go free.

Now, Harris could read as he flipped pages, punch through steel, and deflect bullets with a weird energy field radiated by the nanites the Crey researchers had injected into his blood. The nanites themselves were semi-intelligent. They recorded everything, sometimes playing events back for the convict as he slept.

Prison is already repetitive. Imagine having to relive your day for eight hours, every day, for the rest of your life.

When Arachnos broke into the Zig and started releasing prisoners for Lord Recluse's C.H.O.S.E.N. program (or whatever it was called, he wasn't really paying attention), Harris took the opportunity to escape. He was hoping that getting away from the Zig would somehow prevent him from going mad.

While he was right for the most part, he found surviving the Rogue Isles to be a whole different kind of madness. While the food itself was nasty ("NutriPaste? What the Hell is thi-... Everything the Body needs, because it's Everything the Body is? Who comes up with this crap?"), there was also the general corruption running rampant through the islands, from the police to the Arachnos troops everywhere.

He thought it was like some sort of supervillain boot camp.

Over time, Harris came to learn more about his nanites, like how they were similar to the Void Stalkers' Nictus Implants, and powered by tiny Shadow Cyst Crystals. However, the nanites were seemingly constantly using the energy, so they never had any adverse effects on Raymond's physiology (aside from the sudden massive organic tissue growth, which seems to have reached an equilibrium state).

Raymond did what he could to get by in the Etoile Isles. Everything from working for a Radio to preventing the broadcast of a report that was damaging to Aeon Corp, to even taking down the demoness Lilitu once or twice, Harris found himself in the thick of some of the nastier events in the Isles. However, one thing he didn't expect was becoming the apprentice of one of Lord Recluse's top agents.

When a "Villain" (Harris prefers the term "Rogue," as it simply implies a lack of authorization) is invited to the jewel of the Etoile Isles, the Fortress City known as Grandville, they are asked to see Arbiter Rein, who apparently is the man who sends the invitations. Harris complied with the request, as many others did, and was intrigued with Scirrocco's philosophy of "Man, not Monster" ideals.

However, he's found it to be little more than hot air. No sooner than accepting Scirrocco as his mentor, the Desert Wind sent Power Breaker to defeat the genie, Serafina. It was a grueling battle, but the mystical semi-deity eventually fled, leaving Power Breaker witht eh certain knowledge that she would be back.

Scirrocco granted Power Breaker access to the arts of the Mu, which involved injecting the donor blood of a Mu Mystic into his own bloodstream. Harris did, and electrified much of the Ritual Chamber in the process, but the effect was temporary.

That was alright, though. The nanites could replicate the effect. Shortly after that, Power Breaker was put on the trail of the Malleus Mundi, an ancient text known as "the Hammer of the World." Supposedly, such a relic would enable an individual to alter the world as he sees fit, so long as he understood it.

Scirrocco happened to be one of those individuals, and while he had misgivings about the plot, power Breaker sought out the Malleus, acquired it, and turned it over to his mentor.

This drew the ire of Arbiter Daos. Daos, furious that Scirrocco might be able to escape his shackles in fate, ordered Power Breaker to stop the mystic.

It was here that Harris drew the line. He had considered being Arachnos's pawn, and now, seeing how their "Survival of the Fittest" leadership panned out, and that even when they candied up their terror with pretty little catch-all philosophies, they were still evil in their hearts, Harris made his decision.

"I'm out," he muttered to Scirrocco shortly before he headed for the Ritual Chamber, "I'm done with this crap."

Scirrocco was at first at a loss for comprehension. Harris took that as a chance to level with the Arachnos general, and discussed with him some of what he'd learned from his time with life.

He'd learned a lot. He'd learned the uses of a lot of those physics equations he'd ignored, he'd learned how to build a nuclear reactor using cheap, but reliable parts. He'd found out what's inside a human being, both through books and the hard way. He'd fought and smashed his way through his last year of life, and spent the evenings trying to drown the memory of it all away.

Talking with Scirrocco, he tried to convince him of a few points he'd considered between missions and heists. Some involved the mystic's own history, which Scirrocco was surprised Harris had learned...

"Perhaps... Perhaps the reason why none of your attempts to do good for the world have worked is because... Well... You don't feel you've truly earned that Mantle... Frankly, I figure you should go and hand it back over to that Serafina chick, and work at redefining yourself the hard way. Mistral's too, she's definitely a few screws loose... I don't understand why you put up with her... But, hey, I guess every guy finds that one chick who's able to press all his right buttons to walk all over him..."

Scirrocco was a tad angry at that one...

"Look, boss, all I know I'm saying is that if this book can do what you say it does, somebody would have already tried it before. They must have failed, because life is still unfair. The world is not a perfect place, it's a downright mean one... And it has to be. I wouldn't be what I am if it weren't for the bad things in my life... The good things, too. It's not right for anybody to take any of it away, whether it's you, me, the Bossman himself, or that genie. I'd rather make do with what I am, where I am, how all of it rolled together, and where it's all rolling to. We're here, now. We need to make the best of it. I'm going to go down to the bar, now. I'm gonna have me a few shots of some hard whiskey, and I'm going to call it a night. Tomorrow... I'll figure out tomorrow when I get there."

Scirrocco: "You're not going to try and stop me?"

"No. I'll let you make that decision. If I'm not me when I wake up, well, I'd have never known, anyway. I can leave you with all sorts of warnings, like be careful what you wish for, and you might not have any super powers when this is all said and done... But you'll figure it out on your own, and probably already have. I guess that's why you've got the book in your hand and are headed out the door. Just know this... Daos wants you stopped, and he'll send somebody to do it. Be ready for a world of hurt, but good luck to ya if you succeed."

Scirrocco: "Good luck to us all. Farewell, Raymond."

Scirrocco was, obviously, not successful. Reports differ as to who was involved in the mystic's defeat, but no report indicates that Power Breaker was present. Though Arbiter Daos deployed a few strike teams to arrest the Brute, he was never captured. Theories abound that it may have had something to do with Scirrocco deploying his own Interceptor squads, or even just Power Breaker being a downright mean brawler in a pinch. He did grow up in King's Row, and one didn't make their way through the Etoiles without knowing how to fight.

Since Breaker learned from "the desk of Arbiter Daos" that the strike teams had been called off, he's been bumming around the Isles. It didn't help that he flipped through the Malleus Mundi and now has a large portion of one of the most dangerous texts in the dimension floating around in his brain, if not the whole thing. The nanites in his brain are hard at work trying to decipher the text, even though he argues and pleads with them to stop. Some of Breaker's more "interesting" missions have complicated the matter, as they've caused the nanites to have access to phonetics and interpretations they hadn't considered before. The nanotech culture doesn't seem to be trying to separate from Power Breaker, but their symbiotic relationship with him seems to have grown even deeper to the core of Harris's body.

Now, the nanites have carved through him a series of circuitous "channels" that enable them faster transportation throughout his body. They have redefined the spikes protruding from his head, and he now has round-the-clock Internet access and a "head-cellphone". They're constantly repairing him, improving him, and altering his form for some purpose he isn't even sure of.

And he doesn't even think he wants to.

Currently, Power Breaker's efforts have been concentrated on the Rikti War Zone and assisting Vanguard in defending the planet from yet another hostile assault. The work goes slowly and poorly, but Harris seems to be quite welcome, as he takes the fight to the Rikti with gusto.

Here are his current outfits...

Power Armor

When Power Breaker feels a situation is a little too dangerous, he gets a hold of this Power Armor he acquired during a heist on a Crey facility on an "abandoned" oil rig. The armor is mostly for show, as the shields Breaker utilizes still absorb or deflect most of the impacts he takes, but when he's in particular dangerous situations (such as the Rikti gas... ew...), it's proven extremely life-saving (even though the nanites filter his bloodstream for poisons and toxins, sometimes it helps to keep the stuff from ever getting inside the body in the first place).

Currently, he's improving it with Vanguard modifications as he works in the region affectionately known as the Rikti War Zone.
In time, this outfit may change completely...

Business Suit

Sometimes, even a Rogue has to be a professional, even if he is a frightening visage of the blending of man and machine. Unfortunately, the suit just doesn't fit on him with sleeves, and he had to forgo an undershirt, but he was able to find some nice-fitting slacks and a pair of boots that seem decently professional.

It's hard to look serious when you're all spikey...

Tough Man Outfit

When power Breaker feels he's done playing games, and it's time to stop messing around, he usually throws on these duds, a throwback to his days as a street thug. It's difficult to get on, and the jacket has more than a few tears, but he feels he looks appropriately "bad-[butt]".

Relaxed Brute

Also called "Shirtless," here you can see clearly how bad the Circuit Channel scarring is throughout Harris's body. It's not painful, but it is a sign of his deteriorating human condition. Surprisingly, despite his loss of being, he has a strong sense of self. When he feels it's time to throw down for the good of it all, he's usually in this outfit.

Wasteland Warrior

This is Power Breaker's second favorite outfit while in White Plains (RWZ). He feels it makes him look the very role of a Brute, and it has effectively terrorized a large number of Rikti forces, along with Crey, Council and Malta Group operatives, Knives of Artemis assassins (lots of those...), and even a disturbing number of Devouring Earth monsters.

Yep, Harris is definitely dressed to impress. Too bad most of the time he's bending light around himself in what he calls "the Predator Shield," so hardly anybody ever sees him in any of these...

Five minutes.

In five minutes, whole buildings were leveled by the onslaught of Praetorian anti-tanks and brutes. Worse, they were savage, insane, and just didn't feel any pain. A couple were gunned down by heroes, military, and Freedom Corps forces. Some Vanguard troops were transferred from a nearby U.N. outpost, too, and they brought with them a couple new war vehicles, like anti-aircraft tanks (to blast flying Praetorians out of the sky) and similarly crafted tracked armor equipped with gas-missile pods and magnetic rail driver enhanced tank guns.

These forces were brought in, but they initially were sent into Atlas Park to help Ms. Liberty drive out the "Heavies" (as they were called upon landing) and secure a safe zone within the city. Galaxy City wasn't faring well at all. Back Alley Brawler had been able to hold back the enemy from the Freedom Phalanx headquarters, and he had deployed a few hero teams out to harry the baddies, but the Heavies dropping in gave the Praetorians a sudden surge in their assault. They didn't have the support of the military groups, and it seemed the various criminal elements in the zone had decided it was time to lie low and wait for the storm to pass.

"We can't hold them forever!" a low-level scrapper shouted over the tumult, "They're breaking through!"

A small robot leaped over the scrapper and crashed into a Rampager. It was black and gray, with green lenses on its eyes. There was a whirring, clicking and popping sound, like out of a Clockwork robot, but this was far too symmetrical to be one...

A series of automatic weapons barked fire into the Praetorians and a group of larger robots suddenly tore through the back of the Brawler's ranks and into the Praetorians, smashing their way through the invaders and tearing into their rear ranks. Each one, except for a few minor details, looked much like the first, and like their leader...

"What the..." Back Alley Brawler turned a little to see RYat99 directing the last of the machines before heading into the fray himself.

The Galaxy City leader caught a hold of one of the icicles protruding from the android's body and pulled him back.

"Who are these guys?"

"My brothers and sisters, sir," Ryat99 replied, "Nearly a hundred androids, each built to specs that nearly match mine. We're going to win this, yet."

"I suppose so..."

Ryat99 nodded, then turned away from the legend to help the heroes turn back the Praetorian onslaught. The surprising push was enough, and many of the forces fell back under the sudden counterattack.

Before, the Praetorians had the advantage. They had numbers in Galaxy City. Most heroes didn't venture there, and those that did were usually passing through or didn't know enough about what they were doing that they still needed the helping hand of Freedom Corps to keep them going until they got the ropes.

Now they faced nearly double the number of heroes they faced before, and each of them running off the shared experience of their leader, Ryat99.

With mathematic precision, they arranged themselves into a spearhead formation, Ryat99 at the lead and his fourteen fellow "heavies" fanning out behind him to make a point. The smaller androids amassed behind them, the ones armed with automatic weapons (borrowed from the Freedom Corps armory inside the Freedom Phalanx building) skirting along the outside with the melee style androids and the ones armed with heavier weapons (like rocket launchers and the like) made up the center.

One android, Ryat10, painted a bright, cheery green, was given a series of clear channels throughout the formation. His armor glowed briefly, and any damage accrued by the androids near him was nearly instantaneously repaired. It must have been composed of much of the same technology that made up Nester Durj's outfit...

"Ready boys?" Ryat99 called out to his fellows.

"You're not gonna start saying a series of ones and zeros, are you?" Ryat87 asked, "I've been sleeping for months, and the last thing I need to hear is a stupid pun."

"Fine then, I'll jsut say 'break 'em all!"

"Hey!"

Back Alley Brawler stepped up beside Ryat99 and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Mind if I tag along?"

"I'd smile if I could," the big android replied, "You sure you can keep up, old man?"

Back Alley Brawler grinned back and popped his knuckles in reply. A group of heroes situated themselves among the androids, some of which were healer types, which was a great relief to Ryat10.

"Sure, you're magic based," he said to a young girl with glowing green runes, "But that won't stop ya from helping us."

"Why not?" she asked, confusion evident on her face.

"It's hard to explain..." the android replied, "Just consider it a 'favor of the gods...'"

"Everybody ready to show these Praetorians the hornets' nest they just crawled into?" Back Alley Brawler shouted over the crowd.

"Wow," Ryat99 intoned to Ryat88, "I could never do that..."

"You ain't got the voice for it," his yellow-painted brother replied.

"Hrah!" the amassed heroes shouted together (some of the Ryat androids among them) in response to the veteran hero's shout.

"Then let's give 'em Hell!"

[u]Randall Grey[u]

Darkness is frightened.
A monstrous man stalks the streets.
Fists as big as face.

Power Breaker LOVES the Warzone.

He never leaves.

Never ever.

Except to help some crazy golden alien kick the tar out of baddies... Then, well, then travel gets hectic as Arachnos minions seem to ambush him outside of every door, Black Helicopter and Ferry, and kick him off the Internet.

*sigh*

Fare thee well, Funstuff.

I had a feeling we had something epic going on.

Too bad it couldn't come to fruition.

*pours whiskey on Rescue Operations*

Psycho13 sprinted forward to catch the civilians as they fell. As altruistic as the demon lawyer was being, he was overestimating the resilience of the humans just a tad...

"Not everybody can take bullet holes like me!" he shouted as he caught the first person...

...And promptly fell to the ground under the weight.

"Ungh... Heh-help!"

"You can't lift me?" the man barked at him, "I jsut saw you tear a few people apart, but you can't lift a perfectly ordinary civilian?"

"If... If you can sit there and talk, ya ain't broke."

"So?"

"GET OFF!"

The man complied and Psycho used his super speed to catch the next person, barely.

"Oh my god, it's that lunatic!"

"You're welcome, too, lady... Please move... You're crushing my spine."

For now, I'd suggest "no" to the Paragon protector idea... There's backstory there you don't want to get into until you know what you're fighting.

The Hell one smacks of a current property, but maybe if it wound up being more "Herald of Hades" or something like that, where the God of Death and King of the Underworld explains to your character how he's so far squandered his unique gifts and damaged and destroyed many lives around him.

His path as a hero can then be more a course toward redemption as he does his part to cleanse Paragon City fo the evil that has preyed upon it since the Rikti War.

This seems to be an issue blown entirely out of proportion. A few too many "knee-jerk" reactions, if you will.

I can understand Rose's desire to publish events he/she feels will be fun for or improve his/her online community, but I can also understand why Lemur would want to uphold the rules that the Scoop has to adhere to in order to provide a fair production for the community as well as defend himself when so publicly and loudly derided.

I think this whole issue should have been handled more personally, through PMs and e-mail.

"Well, since I think we could all be doing something better," Roland stood after a few minutes of watching the fight and pulled an arrow from the quiver strapped to his belt, "I'm going to go ahead and end this."

"Yeah? How?" Ashen was incredulous, but his eyes boggled slightly when he saw the canister at the end of Round's arrow, "What the Hell is that?"

"Something incredibly flammable..."

He let the arrow fly, and it impacted against the side of the globe. Black oil poured down and a lot of the observing heroes turned to the Grey's Army Defender.

"It's also really slick..."

Ms. Liberty delivered a vicious side kick to her counterpart, and Dominatrix was sent sprawling across the globe. The evil version of Paragon City's favorite young heroine (sorry Mynx) scrabbled back to her feet, but she didn't pay attention to the fact that her foot was on the topmost portion of the oil slick.

"Oh-ho!" Roland chuckled as the girl fell, screaming, over the side of the Atlas Globe, "That looks like it's gonna hurt!"

"What the Hell!?" she shouted after landing with a very audible thump, "Which one of you-"

Her stream of curses were cut off by two things. First off, she saw Roland grinning down at her and waving. She recognized him from when she had, days earlier, stomped on his throat. Second of all, a nearby Police Drone warbled an alert before firing it's teleportation ray.

"I wish I had a camera," the pudgy archer turned to Ashen Roast, "Then I could show people that she was sent to the Zig flipping me off."

"Uh..." the fire tanker seemed a little concerned, "Roland..."

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" another tanker shouted, "Do you have any idea how many bets we had on that?"

"Yeah, man!" a blaster chimed in, "The big names have been popping up all over the city! We want to see how they fare against each other!"

Roland was already hopping off the roof. The black-armored Tanker hopped down after him, and moved to block his path.

"Well, boy?"

"We don't have time for this crap," the defender replied glibly and moved to circumvent the tanker, "There's a war to be fought."

The tanker got in his way again, "Pft, it'll still be here tomorrow."

Ashen Roast and Blizzard Front hopped down after Roland. Standing behind him, they attempted to intimidate the tank. This was difficult, since they were only in their late teens.

"Hey! Leave him alone!" Blizzard barked.

"Calm down, B," Roland waved them back a little.

"What're you gonna do, fat man?" the tanker laughed, "Hit me with your bow?"

"Hero-on-hero violence isn't really allowed," Roland replied, "And you outrank me something fierce... If you want to take it up with my supergroup leader, you're more than welcome once all this is over. Until then, get the Hell out of my way."

The crowd of heroes was dispersing. Individual heroes and teams were each finding themselves called in by Freedom Corps to handle various problems the Praetorians had deployed across the city. In a short while, only the tanker's super group were watching the argument.

Seeing that the support was pretty much all his, he leaned in close to Roland.

"I may just-"

"Stand down."

Joe Durnan, assault rifle slung over his shoulder, stepped forward and glared angrily at the tanker and his friends.

"You got nothing better to do?" he growled.

"And who the Hell are you?"

"I'm an officer of the law, a protector of the peace, a servant of the people. Don't you profess to be the same?"

"Uh..." the tanker was taken slightly aback.

"I would say you're derelict in your duties," Durnan motioned for the trio to come with him, "And if your answer was 'no,' then you don't deserve your cape. Get the Hell out of my sight. Roland, Ashen, Blizzard, there's trouble in the Hollows."

"Then let's get crackin'," Roland hefted his bow, "I'd say I've done all I could do here, anyway."

----

Matt dropped the body of his opposite in front of one of the heavy duty police drones stationed near the Atlas Park/Eastgate Entrance. In short order, his enemy was being zapped to the Zig.

"Thanks," he growled to the winged female controller who led the charge to cover him, "Sorry I didn't find much intel."

"That's alright," she replied, "So long as some kind of progress was made."

"Indeed. When that guy gets to the Zig, the guards are gonna start grilling him for info..."

Matt was typing into his communicator.

"I'm sending the alert now. What to ask for, especially."

"Why?"

"Some of the Praetorians involved with my friends and I... They're involved with a bombing... Probably to severely damage the infrastructure of the city, if not the city itself."

"Oh dear..."

"But if enough heroes are mobilized, I bet it can be taken care of."

"How can you be sure?" a scrapper with a broadsword (and very little clothing beyond his cape and tight shorts *shudder*) barked, "There's gotta be one of them for every one of us!"

"Not likely," Sarah showed up and handed Matt a canteen, "A lot of the counterparts of us newbie, no-name heroes and heroines are just rank-and-file goons in the Praetorian Army. I know mine is, for instance."

"And they're not all still alive," the controller further explained; she seemed somewhat sad, "I... I accidentally killed mine in a mission for Portal Corp..."

"I see..." the bearded "broadsword scrapper's" face screwed up in consternation, but he seemed relieved.

"So, the end result is that we've got lots more going for us than the Praetorians expected," McGinty finished off the canteen and handed it back to his friend, "Us specifically, though? We need to come up with a plan. We can't let the Praetorians keep the Hollows."

"That's actually pretty easy..."

Julius the Troll stood behind the heroes. Flanking him were two of the most notorious villains in the hazard zone, Frostfire and Atta.

"A truce has been called," Frostfire intoned, "We ain't wastin' each other... We were hopin' you'd treat us the same."

"If not, no matter... We crush, we kill!" Atta barked, "We conquer Hollows, use guns to drive heroes and magic men out! Settle up in the end."

Julius rolled his eyes.

"Yes... That sounds like a winning plan."

Atta seemed happy that the smallest Troll in the city (officially, there were some largely disregarded "pocket trolls" acting as heroes) approved of his ultimatum.

"We'll work something out," David Wincott breathed, "For now, we're all on the same side."

"Cool."

Frostfire.

"Yah!"

Atta.

Matt grinned. It looked like they were finally going to make some progress.

----

Statesman was leading the counter-assault on Praetorian Earth. All they had to do was enough damage to the power systems to shut down the invasion portals. Positron had warned Statesman about this... The Rikti War was just the beginning, now there was a chance to have to deal with every different militant dimension across the globe. Anywhere, any time there could have been a different outcome in the universe that would have radically altered history to a darker outcome... Their timelines were converging, and war upon war loomed on the horizon.

They were able to seal off the Rikti Earth. Who knew how long?

Statesman shrugged off the frightening question. He'd walk that path soon enough. Now, now he had to...

Several factories in the Praetorian Terra Volta were already ablaze. Narrowing his eyes, Statesman peered closer. It seemed something was stalking from power plant to power plant, and leaving destruction in its wake.

It looked like a Zeus class Titan of the Malta Group, only with some massive modifications... Not the least of which, it seemed, was a head with an actual face.

----

Ryat Dreadnought was running low on juice. His ammunition was depleted (his rockets especially), his power plant was overloading. This was the last building he'd be able to handle, and he was going to handle it with style.

"I don't know how this'll turn out," he grunted as his fists slammed soldiers this way and that, "I hope Cobalt and his crew turned out alright..."

He tore his way into the main chamber of the plant and came face to face with Nightstar.

"What is this!?" the feminine android shouted.

"Pardon me," Dreadnought growled over the sound of his engine overloading, "but I hope this doesn't interrupt your regularly scheduled business day..."

His armor plates split apart, and bright beams of light were the only warning Nightstar had to activate her escape teleporter.

----

There was a blinding flash, and Statesman had to shield his eyes as a fusion reaction was suddenly unleashed in the center of the Praetorian Terra Volta. Statesman could feel the heat from where he hovered over the zone. When the unantural sounds of thunder died down, he gazed back to see what had happened.

"By the gods..."

Much of the region was burning. The last building the odd machine had run into was nothing but a smoking crater. The buildings surrounding it weren't faring much better.

"That should just about..." Statesman saw the lights throughout the zone flickering, "Hm... Maybe a few more... Tyrant can't deal with a full-fledged revolt, not with his forces divided like this. He'll shut down the invasion if he has to decide between power for his 'citizens' or conquest."

----

Kipland Durj was thrown, slamming his back against the corner of a building, and he crashed through a faux wrought-iron fence. Cobalt Black followed, only his leap backwards missed the corner of the building, and he had his pistols blazing at their pursuer as he cleared the fence with his leap. He skidded a little as he hit the ground, but he stuck the landing.

Tyrant followed shortly thereafter, not even breaking stride as he smashed unerringly through the barrier. Cobalt Black reloaded in record time, and started firing again... Into Tyrant's face.

The Praetorian dictator was unaffected, and his eyes started glowing violently. Cobalt Black did a half-split, half crouch, barely ducking under the energy beams when he fell backwards as Tyrant fired. His left arm breaking his fall, he kept his right pistol trained on his enemy, still squeezing rounds off into his face and upper torso.

"You can do that all day," Tyrant muttered after the clip ran dry, "It's not stopping me."

Cobalt crab-walked backward until he got his feet back under himself and he got back up. Kipland lurched into position, his armor flickering in-and-out of existence.

"You tired, man?"

"Yeah," Kip replied, "You really with us?"

"You got it, brother."

"I thought you were supposed to be his enemy," Tyrant muttered as he looked to each of them, "You were supposed to be one of my subjects..."

"You done gone [censored] up!" Cobalt Black replied, "You turned over anywhere you deemed the 'wild lands' to Shadowhunter, and his wolves tore what was left of my hometown apart!"

He pointed the other pistol at Tyrant.

"I may not be the one who kills you... Or sends you zipping along to the Zig, however it works... But I swear I'll see you fall, in this life or the next!"

"It'll have to be the next," the arch-villain chuckled, "You two don't have nearly what it takes to stop me."

Suddenly, a line of massive bullet holes tore through the dirt, leaving little plumes of sand and sod shooting into the air in a trail leading toward Tyrant. The bullets impacted and sent him sprawling.

There was a strange pulsing hum in the air. The Kips looked up to see the BWO dropship hovering overhead. The ship's three double-barreled machine gun turrets were trained on where they'd last seen Tyrant.

"You guys okay?" Solo Stryker's voice sounded through the loudspeaker, "Who the Hell was that?"

"Trouble!" Kip shouted back, " Get the Hell out of here, Dare! This isn't your fight!"

Psycho13 was suddenly next to Kip. He handed him a few green and blue cylinders. Kip thanked him as he pressed them into his thigh, the high-pressure spring-loaded injectors puncturing through even his metaphysical armor to repair and recharge his body with their chemical and nanotechnological contents.

Unfortunately, Solo Stryker wasn't able to adhere to Kip's advice in time. Tyrant burst out of a nearby building's wall and delivered a savage punch aimed directly for the machine's nose. The shields resisted the hit, but it still sent the vehicle sprawling through the air. It seemed to rock back and forth on its hover pods after it stopped flying backwards.

"Woah!" Daren shouted through the loudspeaker, "Hey! Who the [censored] said you could do that!?"

"I am sick of these games!" Tyrant shouted, then turned to the communicator on his wrist panel, "Marauder, release the hounds."

----

Though it strained the Praetorian Earth's power grid, a few more portals struggled to life. Many neighborhoods browned out, and not a few people were made very unhappy. But not nearly enough to actually do anything about it.

The brown outs were short-lived, however. The portals that activated were merely one-shot devices, designed to fire their contents into Prime Earth and fall silent forever.

Or at least until Antimatter or Neuron got a hold of them again.

In Prime Earth, there was yet another tearing sound that many of the heroes were already getting used to. Out of the holes in the sky dropped the biggest, meanest anti-tanks and brutes that Praetorian Earth had to offer. They were feral, savage, or just downright bloodthirsty. Each one was more than capable of taking down Tyrant and his court through Brute Force alone, but it hadn't been brute force that had stopped them.

Beaten into unconsciousness, Tyrant knew he'd one day have use for these living siege engines. He had Marauder train them. He had Antimatter and Neuron work on a way to keep them in stasis. Now, their time had come.

The stasis cages broke open as they were teleported into Prime Earth. The beasts awoke in mid-air and very rapidly worked up into a frenzy as their plight was realized.

The next few seconds were not going to be very good for Paragon City.

[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
Hey, Athy, that guy probably bathes fairly regularly...

In the ocean.

In the rivers of Founders Falls.

In the sewers...

Uh...

Scratch that last one...

[/ QUOTE ]

*emails soap*



[/ QUOTE ]

Was?

No... I was merely speculating. I make regular trips to my home as it is.

Where I already have soap...

*sniff*

Hm... Lilac scent... I guess I'll keep this.

Kipland went bowling over a wrought iron fence and rolled onto his side, coughing violently. His armor was fading away... He hated when it did that, he always felt so drained when it was gone.

"What's the matter, boy?" Tyrant asked as he walked casually around the fence, "Are you surprised that you don't measure up?"

Slamming a couple green gems into his chest, Kipland picked himself up and started running away. He had to get to a group of heroes, and fast.

"Aw, don't run..." Tyrant was almost chuckling, "Don't run..."

There was a high-pitched whine and the ground underneath Kipland exploded, launching the scrapper into the air and dropping him on his back a few yards away.

"Pathetic," the Praetorian king's eyes blazed red momentarily, "And you were so full of [censored] and vinegar... I expected more from you..."

"Well then here's the rest of me!" Cobalt Black shouted as he hopped over the fence and drop-kicked Tyrant in the head.

The anti-tanker staggered a couple steps and glared fiercely at the navy-blue-fatigued scrapper.

"You're supposed to be helping me kill this waste of skin..."

"I make my own choices, my own destiny," Cobalt Black replied, "Just because you rule an army of the damned doesn't mean I'm gonna be following suit!"

"Very well, then."

Tyrant stepped toward Cobalt Black 3-8-9 and prepared to punch his head off. Suddenly, he felt something kick the back of his knee and he crumpled to the ground.

"Doesn't take much effort," Kipland quipped as he hopped away from Tyrant's flailing arm, "Just a light press, but I was kind of hoping I'd break something."

"You really think those football pads are going to protect you?"

"I'm held together by more than the clothes on my back!"

Tyrant picked himself up and glanced from scrapper to scrapper. Sighing, he straightened out his uniform and shrugged his cape back. The two boys were in martial defensive stances he was unfamiliar with, but that didn't matter much when you could punch through-

Kip snap-kicked the anti-tanker in the face. This was followed up by a driving kick into Tyrant's belly from Cobalt Black 3-8-9. When the Praetorian king regained his faculties, the two boys were transversed.

"Okay," he muttered, "Now I'm [censored]!"

----

Roland arched an eyebrow at all of the heroes sitting on the City Hall rooftop. They seemed to be watching something happening on the...

Ms. Liberty was fighting Dominatrix on the Atlas Globe.

"Breh-heh," he chuckled as he worked his way up onto the roof, "What're you guys doin'? Just watchin' the fight?"

"Yeah," a low-level tanker replied, "Oh, hey Roland."

"Uh... Oh! Ashen!"

"Yeah," Roast replied, "Dominatrix appeared out of nowhere and perched on top of the globe. She knocked the heroes up there off and called out Ms. Liberty. They've been duking it out since."

"Nobody's gonna help?"

"Uh... No, I don't think so..."

"What about the rest of the city zone? Aren't there Praetorians running about?"

"The Clockwork have been working with Freedom Corps for some odd reason... They've been able to hold back the various small armies on their own. Y'know? Alongw ith the cops and all..."

"Cool, cool," Roland sat down and balanced a bow on his knee, "I guess that means we'll be chilling here for a moment."

Blizzard Front waved to Roland. Chilling some condensation into a cup, he handed it to the pudgy Defender.

"Didn't you used to date her?"

Glaring at the ice blaster, Roland answered very curtly.

"No."

Blizzard Front turned to Ashen Roast as if to say something, but the orange-skinned tanker shook his head warningly. Shrugging, the blaster went back to watching contentedly.

"You boys been talking to my brother again, huh?" Roland growled at Ashen.

"Only on poker night..."

"And Wings Night at the bar, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not getting into it..." Round sighed, "It's complicated..."

Hey, Athy, that guy probably bathes fairly regularly...

In the ocean.

In the rivers of Founders Falls.

In the sewers...

Uh...

Scratch that last one...

Lord Recluse: "I'm taking this ball, and I'm going home..."

Manticore: "Hey, hey! That ain't your ball!"

Lord Recluse continues walking away purposefully. Statesman shows up, loading a rifle.

Statesman: "The hunt begins..."

Lord Recluse suddenly looks shocked and starts running away quickly. Statesman follows just as quickly. Ghost Widow shows up wearing a cheerleader outfit.

GW: "Idiots..."

"No..." Breaker's prior aloof tone was gone, now just somewhat tired, "I remember ya well... I think... Time's been unkind to me, though. Besides, I figured you'd have forgot me... A lot can happen in a matter of days, imagine what it must be like to have this much time between moments."

He sounded worn, despite having done little that day. His life as a criminal, then a "Villain," had not been easy on him, to say the least. He hoped that this "promise" of redemption would pan out.

"Aw... He's so cute," Cedric chuckled when he saw Acid Zero's true form.

"Oh yes..." Matt muttered grimly, "You're gonna fit right in over there..."

----

Power Breaker's eyes boggled a little when he saw Acid's true form. His nanites even freaked a little and his mind was filled with question marks and errors. A few nanites, however, dug into something he kind of hoped they'd stop messing with and suddenly they were able to reconcile.

Though he strongly doubted it was anything to do with magic, the nanites were certain of it.

A wizard did it.

"No... I don't think so..."

"I'm not offering to help ya," the Brute muttered to Acid as he found himself a seat, "Not when I see ya like that, and I sure as Hell don't want to be anywhere near those pants when they finally come off... Hell, I don't want to see them come off, but you seem dead set..."

He gave a sideways glance at Jake.

"Him? Maybe, but it looks like he's made his decision."

They're mini-nukes, like the Blasters, Corrupters, Defenders, and to a lesser extent, the Van Dammes.