TeChameleon

"I assure you, Mr. Winston, that I'm a hero only by relation." Eileen commented drily. If she was surprised by the impromptu home visit, she didn't show it, merely bending over to help Sam put away his groceries. She glanced at her watch. "Let's see... Danny is staying late today, some kind of training at Golden Eagle, and Ben and Jeremy won't be finished school for another hour. Should have some time."

She raised an eyebrow at Akemi from where she was stashing some cans in a cupboard that appeared to contain more of the same. "If you're as much of a klutz as you claim, are you sure that hero-ing while waving sharp objects is your best option? Surely there are other ways to do it?" Then she straightened and pursed her lips.

"As to Positron, he's still an active member of the Freedom Phalanx, but all of the Surviving Eight are active in various parts of the city, either dispensing advice and training, or giving information- every one of them has their own sub-network of heroes that sometimes do legwork for them. Their 'posts' around the city are a sort of outdoor office. So they're almost always there at the same time every day. Really, dear, you need to pay more attention as a hero-in-training."

Her tone was gentle, but the warning was real; she had seen too many children get hurt because they were 'training' and didn't go about it the right way, thus her keen interest in the exact mechanics of her own son's training and the heroic subculture of Paragon City.

With that thought, she frowned slightly. "Paxtera, Paxtera... hmm. Doesn't ring any..." then she snapped her fingers. "Of course. Peacebringers tend to work more with E.L.I.T.E.... unfortunately, I'm not as familiar with that branch, Danny and Energon X- my brother- work more with D.A.T.A. and S.E.R.A.P.H., respectively. Probably why I haven't heard of you." she finished, shrugging slightly.

Then Sarah's bag started talking, and even the normally unflappable Eileen Troy blinked, looking a bit taken aback. "Is it normal for you to haul people around in bags?" she asked, sounding a bit dubious.

Flashpoint Zeo gave the faux-Teivos an annoyed glance, then blurred for a moment, plonking him next to the SFX crew where presumably they would get him clear. This accomplished, the Tanker resumed his original position. "Not hostage. Is clear. Not surrendering, either." he announced.

Then he manifested his two gigantic flaming scimitars. "Too many lies. As honoured grandfather used to say, 'When being buried in... lies.., stir up [censored] until truth floats to top."

Another fiery blur, and the giant was parked in the middle of the street, flaming scimitars akimbo. "Apocalypse, Egg-whatever, with me or get clear. Likely to get extremely ugly extremely quickly. Dictators typically unhappy when made to look silly."

With that, he held out a hand, palm up, and bent his fingers in the time-honoured challenge to the world at large. "To be bringing it."

((As to Sun Tzu, I really don't have a lot to work with; unless you're planning on hauling us all off to China, Devious, any actions he takes there are likely to be largely irrelevant to the rest of the plot until such a time as he goes after/interacts with any of the other characters. If you really want movement on that front, either have the dragons find something out about Hotaka or else have the man himself seek out some of the various CPSR rebels.

As a random aside, Flashpoint is such fun to write dialogue for ))

Eileen Troy arched an eyebrow at Sam. "I'll have to have a word or two with that boy when I get home... his family does have more members in it than just my little brother. And it's Mrs., thanks, although you're more than welcome to call me Eileen." she finished, striding along slightly ahead of Sam.

She inclined her head to the two draconic ladies. "My building is near the South end, not far from the University. I can show you where it is, although I'm not sure as to the quality of their biomechanics labs... from what I've heard, a lot of the funding goes to the new technomancy labs, much to the annoyance of some of the professors, who simply won't shut up about it. And it's nice to meet you, Sarah, Kia."

Eileen Troy glanced over at Akemi, next. "You're going to have to speak up a little, dear. I'm sure I heard you say something, but I couldn't begin to guess what it was." Then she chuckled a little at the Peacebringer's comment.

"I suppose there are some advantages to being able to warp time and space to your whim. Myself, I've found a good stern talking to... and possibly a purse to the side of the head... usually does the trick." She shrugged and strode onwards, blithely ignoring... or at least appearing to ignore... the various hazards that Paragon presented.

((Devious... I said everything. Wasn't really meaning to include people. Flashpoint isn't really one for wanton murder >.<

... mind you, when you're standing in uniform holding weapons, I suppose it's not strictly 'murder' if someone from an opposing force kills you.

Still out of character, though -_-)

Flashpoint Zeo, naturally, had never heard Teivos speak before, so all he had to go on was a mention of 'script'. Sighing and shrugging, the big tanker muttered "Always last to know, no?" Patting the actor gingerly on the shoulder (much to the man's surprise, he wasn't even singed), Flashpoint said "Apologies, thought had been at least warned. Opposing-force actors replaced, genuinely trying to kill at some point. Had to remove with unknown force to ensure modicum of safety; unsure depth of conspiracy." the giant lied smoothly.

His reasoning was simple; whether or not this was the genuine Sovereign, he would obviously have to have at least some amount of power to pull off a convincing display. Getting him to come willingly would save a good deal of time and effort, and even if this was a fake, well, having a body-double for the Dark Sovereign presented some interesting possibilities in and of itself.

The lie was helped along by Burning Brawler's apparently careless hurling of fire; Flashpoint Zeo instinctively curled over his captive to protect him from the rain of fire that suddenly began, burning small, sizzling pits into the pavement. "Would appear are still trying to achieve one's death." the big tank commented, sounding a bit annoyed. While the micro-fireballs weren't doing a lot of genuine damage, they still stung.

Then Isabel opened up, and the Tanker shook his head in mild admiration. While he was no slouch in the damage department, as the trail of destruction to... but not from- the Tank wasn't stupid, there was little point in painting a giant arrow of mayhem to point directly at where he was now, and he had angled outwards slightly before beginning his blitz, so that the trail of carnage... in which several soldiers were already sitting up and groaning, their under-armour having protected them from the simple kinetic energy that had slapped them aside after their weapons and outer armour had been slagged... pointed at a point at roughly a 15-degree angle from where the rebels actually were... the trail of destruction to the limo would attest, the heroine so aptly named "Portable Apocalypse" put him to shame.

Keeping himself between their target and Burning, he added an experimental fireball to Isabel's fusilade. If nothing else, the concussion from the fireball's explosion would hopefully disrupt the rain of fire.

((apologies for the short post; I've been fighting a nasty case of insomnia for the last few days, and it's really killed any creativity I might have ))

Flashpoint Zeo sighed, shrugged, and charged as the chaos began. "Likewise on channel three. To be suggesting not becoming overly enthusiastic in battling random goons; grab crazy dictator and get out, if possible."

The huge tank proceeded to suit words to actions, going from a dead standstill to full speed so fast that the resulting backwash nearly ripped nearby soldiers off their feet.

He sprinted straight as an arrow at Teivos. Subtlety was for people who weren't nine feet tall, on fire, and moving faster than the average bullet. Barring any unforeseen developments, the giant's plan was simple; melt through everything in his path... up to and including the front end of the Dark Sovereign's limo... grab the insane(?) dictator, and leave posthaste.

------

Sun Tzu listened to the dragons' recitation gravely, stroking his long beard.

After some thought, he nodded. "Then we will simply have to see that the benefits of harmony and growth apply to us, and that the plague and pestilence are applied to our enemies. If such a thing is possible, observe him covertly, and find the point of balance. If such is found, we will be able to tip the scales as we wish. In the interim, we must secure his loyalty. Have you any recommendations as to what to offer him, honoured ones?"

Eileen Troy merely raised an eyebrow when the draconic woman leaped at her, then nodded when the fireball went off. "I'm going to have to have a talk with that boy..." she said absently, then gave Sarah a critical look.

"Thanks for the save, hon. But you're letting your scales get awfully dry... hold on a sec." she said, digging about in her voluminous purse.

"Ah, there we go." she continued, fishing out a small bottle and holding it out. "This is a fairly decent moisturizing cream... you know, you're going to get fearfully itchy if you keep letting it slide like that. Paragon can be dusty this time of year. Might want to double-check the ingredients to make sure there's nothing you'd react badly to, but otherwise it should do the job."

[ QUOTE ]
"Really?" the velvet-brown dragon inquired, "We are? You're not going to like...scream and try to clock me with something heavy...?"

[/ QUOTE ]
At that, Eileen laughed.

"Sweetie, this is Paragon City. You'd have to be juggling with your tail while balancing on your head to get people to give you a second look. I mean, you saw what happened a minute ago... I just had a tiny clockwork robot try to mate with my iPod. By comparison, you barely qualify as 'unusual'. So relax, enjoy the sights, beat a few gangbangers heavily about the head and neck, take home a souvenir."

She shook her head, still smiling, then inclined her head to Sam. "If you're heading South, I'll walk with you a ways, since I'm headed in that direction myself. I might want to have a few words with you about Danny, as well... I'm assuming you mean his old school, Blyde Comprehensive, rather than Golden Eagle High, since you don't seem to be any more super than I am..?"

This was clearly a busy corner- another woman had exited the grocery store that Sam had come out of, her confident stride announcing that, if anything tried to happen to her, it was far more likely that she would wind up happening to it, instead.

At first glance, this seemed a trifle odd, since the woman looked to be in her middle thirties, was dressed in comfortable old clothes, and you'd probably find 'Mom' written across every cell in her body if you were to go looking. However, this confidence was borne out when a small Clockwork popped out of an alleyway, making a dive for the mp3 player that rode on her hip.

A casual sidestep and swift kick knocked the Cog sprawling, and then the would-be victim started spinning her sturdy canvas grocery bag, like a pitcher winding up. The Clockwork scrambled to its feet just in time to catch about thirty pounds of canned vegetables to the side of the head, slapping it into a wall four feet away.

The miniature automaton rose unsteadily to its feet, staggered in a circle a few times, then weaved drunkenly off down the alleyway.

The motherly woman breathed out an aggrieved sigh and tucked her hair back into place. "Silly thing... it's mostly plastic, too, no idea why it would want it." she commented to the world at large with a shake of her head.

She kept walking, arriving at the little knot of people just in time to catch the Peacebringer's comment.

[ QUOTE ]
"Yeah well, they call it the City of Heroes for a reason", the woman grinned at them as she hopped down from her lofty perche, landing lightly on the pavement next to them.

[/ QUOTE ]
"Tell me about it." she responded. "Seems you can't turn around without tripping over some superpowered someone-or-other." Then she grinned, unexpectedly. "Of course, in my case, that's probably mostly because my oldest son is one of them... so is my brother, for that matter, although he's underfoot a little less often."

Then she caught a glimpse of the three Outcasts; they had started edging back as soon as the attention of the group wandered, possibly thinking of trying an ambush of some sort, but now, two of them were, for some reason, trying to look inconspicuous... Carl, the Chiller, was actually trying to hide behind a lamppost.

She put her hands on her hips and gave the trio of hapless would-be supervillains a disapproving look. "Chad Lopez, I know your Papi isn't putting in those long hours at his store so that you can loiter on streetcorners harrassing people. You have your entrance exams in less than two months; shouldn't you be studying? I doubt your professors will be all that impressed by you slinging lightning at the test papers."

The Shocker blanched so pale that he went from sky blue to baby blue. "No ma'am." he said weakly.

"And Carl." she continued, skewering the Chiller in turn with her gaze. "You're not keeping your grades up. Or were you planning on running around with your ridiculous little colour-coded t-shirt until your reflexes aren't what they were once from the constant beatings you take and you get shot robbing a convenience store?"

Carl, in his turn, let out a mumbled "No, ma'am."

The third Outcast, a Scorcher who was a fair bit younger than the others, glared in open disbelief at the other two.

"Who's this [censored] think she is?" he demanded, pitching his voice as low as he could, which wasn't very.

"And who's this?" the matronly woman inquired coolly.

"I'm Deathfi..." the boy started, only to be cut off by Carl. "He's Braden Jackson, ma'am. He's new." the Chiller interjected hastily.

"Yes, I can see that."

"WHAT?" the Scorcher now revealed as Braden yelled, whirling on the others. "You pathetic..." he shrilled.

He was cut off by the Shocker, this time. "That's Mrs. Troy, man. You do not [censored] with..." "Language!" "Sorry ma'am... you do not... cross... Mrs. Troy." Chad said.

The young Scorcher gave the middle aged woman a skeptical look, flames roiling up around his hands. "Oh really." he said.

Carl grabbed him by the arm and hauled him into a recessed doorway, whispering fiercely. Occasionally Braden would echo something he said in a kind of strangled yelp.

"... Skyfire... Roast to Roast... bursts into tears every time her name is mentioned?... ThrillChill... moved back to Iowa?!?... Blindquake... shot in the face?!?"

As the gang members huddled, 'Mrs. Troy' rolled her eyes slightly. "Eileen Troy." she said, taking the Peacebringer's outstretched hand and shaking it. "Honestly, kids these days. These 'Outcasts' decided they wanted my Danny in their gang because he developed electrical powers... even invaded my home at one point. I had to have a little talk with them about that."

This prompted a rather stangled noise from Chad, the Shocker. Open disbelief had replaced the nervousness on his face, and he was frankly staring at Eileen. "Little talk? Lady, Skyfire is still in therapy after what you said to her. And Roast to Roast, he bursts into tears every time he hears your name. You can keep him out of a building just by putting your photo on the door!"

Eileen shrugged a little. "If they're that psychologically delicate, then maybe they shouldn't be running around mugging people and threatening to murder them in their homes." A pause. "And if I ever see that silly child that calls himself Blindquake again, I'm going to give him a stern talking to."

Chad actually recoiled physically at this, rising off the ground and flying down the alleyway, slowing down just long enough to grab the other two and drag them with him.

Eileen Troy shrugged again. "Kids these days." she repeated. She glanced at the milk, shifted her purse a little, set down her bag, and scooped up the broken carton. Balancing it on one hip, she dug around in her purse and fished out a roll of packing tape. A couple of deft twists, and the carton was once more waterproof.

"There you go... it won't last forever, but it should at least keep whatever milk you've got left inside the carton 'til you get home." she said, proferring the milk to the group in general. "Ah... whose milk is this?"

((Huh... that came out kind of long-ish. Oh well. I've been dying to use this character since forever- meet Target Lad's (Danny) formidable mother. She's also Energon X' sister, for those of you who have RPed with either of those two characters. And yes, she has a rather strong personality, heh...

EDIT- Argh, didn't post properly, and two more posts popped up in the interim... stupid 'the form you have submitted is no longer valid' bug >.<

Hopefully it still makes some sense >.>

EDIT 2- brought the Outcasts back briefly, didn't notice they were gone as of Kyo's last post <.<

EDIT 3- belated edit as I realized I had screwed up Eileen's age, which, while it doesn't matter that much, would have bugged me if I left it >.&lt)

((Hrm... okay, as always, I'm kind of feeling my way through here with the whole CPSR bit, so let me know if any weirdnesses crop up, and I'll edit or explain as needed))

Hotaka had been escorted to a rather pleasantly appointed chamber once Sun Tzu had offered all the information the group posessed regarding the Dark Sovereign's operations in China, along with detailed information on the internment camps and death march routes left over from the Japanese occupation that were, for one reason or another, still operating.

While the room looked like a jewelled pagoda that would do Kublai Khan proud, even the most rudimentary of magical senses could tell that this was largely an illusion, albeit a very good one, set over a spartan cave with just enough comforts to maintain the illusion in a tactile sense, and even those were set up in such a fashion as to be able to be gathered up without leaving a trace between one heartbeat and the next.

In the meantime, Sun Tzu had called a meeting.

The strategist stood at the top of a golden tower a half-twist off of reality, in the midst of a trio of great dragon-heads, two black, one white.

The balance is disturbed.

There is too much Yang in the aether.

The Celestial Realm will burn in scorching fire unless this is rectified.

Tzu held up his hands placatingly. "This is known, honoured ones. Our plans to do so, however, have been derailed by ambition. A young jiang, seeking to make a name for himself, used up the supplies needed for the ritual and called forth this outland 'dragon' instead."

The elder mage paused. "We have need of your wisdom. What do you sense concerning this one?"

------

Flashpoint Zeo loomed at the back of the small mob of rebel soldiers, a grumbling monolith in red-orange and black armour, his flames dampened. "Of course. To be kidnapping crazy evil [censored] of a dictator to be delivered to one reported to be just as crazy and possibly just as evil so that crazy evil [censored] of a dictator can be used by rebels." he muttered.

He'd said much the same thing at the 'meeting' they had held after debarking the train, but had been overruled for reasons that weren't clear to him. This world's politics confused and annoyed him, and for one versed in the byzantine policies of the Forbidden City of a thousand years ago, that was saying something.

"'The enemy of my enemy is my enemy's enemy. No more. No less.'" the titan quoted. He would protect those he could- the plasma rifles would barely so much as tickle against his own plasma shield, after all- but the huge Tanker was getting increasingly edgy.

He didn't entirely trust the rebels... from casual references dropped here and there, he was fairly certain that at least some of them were the remnants of this world's Fifth Column; he didn't trust the Egregore Device, although that was more of an 'I don't trust you not to go psychotic again' than an 'I'm just waiting for you to stab me in the back' thing; and he certainly didn't trust Toy Dispenser or the Overmagus.

However, be that as it may, the threat to Primal Earth, if it were real, was reason enough to help the rebels for the moment, if only because they weren't the ones trying to blow up his planet.

He folded his arms and waited for the signal. As always, he would be taking point... and if nothing else, a quarter-ton of fiery projectile moving faster than the eye could follow was certainly an excellent distraction.

((I'm starting to suspect that you're right... Rebel_Scum, Khell, Sovs, and Bwerp all seem to have dropped off the face of the Earth.

... by the way, am I the only one who sees the irony of 'Rebel_Scum' participating in this thread?))

Flashpoint Zeo folded his arms and shrugged, armour plates shifting. He'd said his piece regarding Toy Dispenser, and would rather have tossed the robot off the train and be done with it rather than try and have him prove himself or whatever.

Of course, if Toy did anything stupid, he'd find himself ten miles behind the train with a flaming sword in his sinus cavity before he had time to blink... or whatever it was he did to keep his visual sensors clean.

After a moment, though, he stirred. "If Hastings only working under duress, perhaps wisdom would dictate removing source of duress?"

------

Sun Tzu gave Xu Guan a look that said 'I know exactly what you're thinking. I also know that you didn't stop wetting your bed until you were fourteen. Don't cross me.' It was a remarkably succinct look.

He turned his attention to the dragon(?) when the latter turned back to him and nodded. "Very well, honoured Ryuu Hotaka." he said smoothly, although inwardly, he had become very, very wary at mention of the being's name; a Japanese name did not bode well after the treatment all of China had received at the hands of the Empire of the Rising Sun.

A twitch of a bony wrist, and abruptly, they were elsewhere... or at least their senses were. For whatever reason, Xu Guan had come along for the magical mystery tour with Sun Tzu and Ryuu Hotaka.

"The year of the Brown Earth Rat ((1948 for the uninitiated )); the Empire of the Rising Sun had prosecuted their war against us for more than ten years by that point. But that was the year that Beijing fell, and the beginning of the Years of Long Night. Traders from the lands beyond the Great Wall ceased coming shortly before that, and there were rumours that the group of foreign devils the others called "Germans"- the Hunnish tribes- had overtaken the others."

Around them, the Forbidden city burned in nuclear fire. "The Nipponese had acquired a weapon... none know from where... of terrible destructive force, and used it almost immediately, a bomb that reduced the Imperial Capital to dust and ash between one heartbeat and the next. From there, our surrender was simply assumed; the high command and all the government were dead, and any resistance was met with butchery and barbarism, or the more merciful eradication by their terrible bombs." Around them, 'camps' and mass graves streamed by, an endless parade of the dead and dying flickering past almost too fast to see and punctuated by the occasional mushroom cloud.

"For sixty years, this went on without relief." The stream of ugly images sped by in silence for a time.

"Then he came. They call him the Dark Sovereign; the Celestial Kingdom was merely a stepping stone for him on his tour of world conquest, subjugated as an easier launching point for his invasion of the home isles." Sun Tzu's mouth twisted in a bitter line as he realized he had unconsciously used the Japanese name for their lands rather than the Chinese one, but he didn't comment. "At first, we cheered him as a liberator, but those cheers faded quickly when it became obvious that he had no intention of either leaving or ruling us any more gently than the Nipponese."

A brief flash of the Dark Sovereign's armies marching through, then a blurry image of his palace. "We seek his death, or at the very least removal back to whatever hell he came from, and for that, we need aid."

Flashpoint Zeo waved a hand over Toy, flames briefly tracing strange, arcane shapes. "Is clean." he rumbled. While the huge tank was hardly a master mystic, he had considerable raw power at his command, and this particular trick was a simple one- a thin, 'skin'-tight barrier around Toy that would scream bloody murder if the faintest trace of mystical energy of any sort crossed over it in either direction. And potentially blow up the train, but Zeo decided not to mention that- it was an unfortunate side effect of substituting brute force for actual knowledge.

A hand the size of a shovel blade waved at Toy. "Wind-up here is sentient? Not just pre-programmed to lie?" he asked, both caution and irritation in his tone. "If not, taking chances on speed and resistance and removing head right now." he finished, blurring briefly across the car to illustrate his point, moving so fast in the confined space that he appeared to have teleported.

------

((not 100% sure what you want me to do with this, Devious, but gonna run with it))

"Feel free to ignore Xu Guan." a new voice said impatiently. "A good enough boy, but a trifle simple, I'm afraid." A rather imposing figure entered the cave, resplendent in brilliant robes and a beard so long it reached past his belt buckle. A snap of his fingers warped space slightly, 'locking' the sleeping dragon in place and altering timeflow slightly, dropping it into a sort of stasis. Impressive though it might be, as far as the CPSR was concerned, it was nothing more than a large, dangerous animal. The chief strategist of the Chinese People's Socialist Revolutionary Forces, known only by his rather pretentious nom-de-guerre, 'Sun Tzu', had arrived, and he would prefer that the dragon not wake up, if possible.

While this latter-day Sun Tzu might not quite have the legendary cunning of his namesake, he was still clever enough to get by.

Assessing the old maybe-dragon with a glance, he announced "The Celestial Kingdom has languished under the heels of foreign invaders for many years now, cruel and unforgiving beasts of little civilization and no pity. If you would join us in casting them out, our gratitude would be both extensive and material; your name would be revered among the Ten Kingdoms and you would be rewarded with as much wealth as we could offer."

The master strategist bowed deeply and precisely; if this maybe-dragon were versed in the ways of the Chinese Imperial court, he would recognize the bow as the one offered to a lesser celestial being- one step below the gods themselves.

"Whom do I have the honour of addressing?" Sun Tzu inquired.

Flashpoint Zeo raised an eyebrow. "Only difference body exploding makes after separation of head is saving on explosives." he suggested. "Risk increases exponentially every second intact..." a pause and a look, up and down, over Toy Dispenser, "... mostly intact robot remains on train. Urge either complete discardation with explosives, or discardation without head. Explosion in either case hopefully make more difficult to track."

He folded his arms, a huge flaming sword appearing suggestively in one hand as he loomed over Toy Dispenser. "And first to say stupidity like 'have captured powerful enemy, must make use of valuable information' gets smacked over head. Any information gained irrelevant if vastly more powerful enemy learns location of base."

Flashpoint Zeo dropped into the car through the giant hole that comprised most of the roof now and gave Toy, then Kruger, a look. Stepping over and hefting the robot's "corpse" with one hand, he gave it an experimental shake, then dumped it again.

Reaching up, he went to give Legion a sharp flick with one forefinger. Whether or not the flick connected, he wanted the floating... whatever's... attention. "To be finding the bit with the brain inside." he instructed sharply. "All others with similar knowledge, to be helping. Keeping memory, dumping bit with weapons overboard. Along with as large quantity of explosives as possible to spare."

The fireball hit just as the teleportation spell... almost completed.

There was a spectacular lightshow covering every colour from Infrared all the way up the spectrum to Octarine as the dragon and its passengers simultaneously imploded, exploded, and teleported, all at the same time. Anybody caught in that would be lucky not to end up with their spleen where their ears used to be, or worse.

Accompanying the lightshow was a roar of sound and a thunderclap of air that jolted the train hard enough to make the rear cars sway on the rails.

Finally, the tunnel caved in, the support walls stressed beyond endurance by the hard fought battle and now the runaway temperature flux. Then the last couple of grenades exploded, finalizing the collapse.

Flashpoint Zeo gave the destruction a flat look, then shrugged. "Pretty." was his only comment before he swung lightly up onto what was left of the roof to check what was happening with that particular lightshow. A careful observer would note that he was moving far more lightly than his size would suggest... and that at all times he kept a solid grip on the rushing train.

The dragon Isabel had shot squalled like a singed cat the size of a barn, coiling in on itself and jerking away from the train. The eyes of the Sorceror riding it went very wide as he waved his hands frantically, green healing energy pouring out of them, then the entire scene went white for a second as a second Sorceror teleported in and yanked both dragon and rider out in a blinding flare of teleportational energies. They did not reappear anywhere in the tunnel complex that anyone could detect.

In the fray, the first dragon roared like a punctured steam-engine boiler as the blades pierced it, quickly tended to by a pair of Sorcerors who appeared on its massive flanks, chanting in unison as healing energy crawled around the wound, slowing the entropic decay still further.

The dragon in its turn began to chant, and white powder flaked down from the ceiling as the ice, more than four feet thick in some places and harder than steel in the terrible cold, began to pull loose, flowing like sluggish water to pool around the dragon for a moment before forming... other shapes.

The Chinese forces drew in, flashes appearing along the vast length of the dragon as the surviving Sorcerors and pair of Ice Winds teleported or leapt aboard, light flickering up and down the length of the huge beast as wounds were tended, and their magic leant to the monstrous display of power being put on.

The temperature in the tunnel dropped still further as the ice thickened in front of the dragon, taking on solid forms as wolves the size of small cars and carved from purest ice sprang forwards, translucent lips curled back to reveal teeth magically honed to the sharpness of monomolecular blades and gleaming in the dull light as the mystic darkness roiled back. The sorcerors had given up on it as largely useless, given that the Overmagus' forces ignored the nigh-physical vision obstruction of the darkness, along with the screaming hurricane-force winds that threatened to tear loose the steel-bound cables and pipes along the walls.

Finally, when there were nearly three dozen of the huge ice-wolves attacking their enemies, the guttural chanting rose once more as those aboard the dragon prepared for a rather smoother teleport extraction than its opposite number.

Flashpoint Zeo, meanwhile, had made a futile grab at Toy Dispenser when he hurtled past, then realized with a start that he was still holding the fireball he had generated a while ago, ballooned out to nearly six feet across by his absent-mindedly feeding power into it for the last while.

The giant tanker stared at it for a split second, then down the tunnel, and then reared back and hurled the huge ball of flame, spurring it on its way with triplicate columns of blue-white flame from both hands and his mouth, swelling it to even greater proportions until it was a roaring wall of flame filling half the tunnel.

What would happen to those caught in it as everything went from only marginally above absolute zero to several thousand degrees was anybody's guess- the armour of the Dark Sovereign's troops had proven resilient to the point of ridiculousness, but the wild stresses brought about by the sudden, massive temperature flux would test even those limits.

Without bothering to watch the results, Flashpoint Zeo turned and sped after the train in a shimmering streak of fire and light. Overtaking it casually, he reached up and swung aboard the rear platform, burning yellow eyes scanning for Toy Dispenser.

((may I point out... again... that the dragon in question is very nearly the same size as the train in its entirety, cars included? It being in front of the train is quite a serious problem, whether the train is moving or not))

((Psst... Khell- the Tsoo bosses I 'borrowed' for this are called Ice Wind, not Ice Knife))

Lightning rammed through Flashpoint Zeo, and he let out a pained grunt, but held his ground. He would heal, soon enough, and at the moment, he was all that stood between the train of rebels and a quick death in air that was so cold as to be partially liquified... not something you would necessarily want to be breathing.

"No matter winner, selves appear to be moderately boned." he commented to Isabel in an aside.

Then the frigid air moved, sluggish currents stirring as something big hurtled down the tunnel, a hissing rush like another train oncoming, complete with two actinic lights blazing.

The illusion was quickly dispelled by another whistling roar as a mouthful of fangs gaped open and a serpentine white dragon only marginally smaller than the train it pursued roared down on the Overmagus' forces.

"Would explain why Chinese mages not bothered much by anti-magic... whatever." Flashpoint said, his tone still conversational. "Dragons exceedingly potent source of magic... far more than portable anti-magic field could counter. Also, would appear are now completely boned." the big tank added as the dragon tore two armoured soldiers in half with a single bite and froze another solid with an almost casual blast of icy breath.

Meanwhile, the Ice Wind that had been tossed through the wall by Toy Dispenser peeled himself loose. He stood straight and proud, beginning the somatic gestures and rapid-fire chanting that would cast something horrible on Toy, but it was obvious from his movements that he had taken more damage than the 'bot had expected, and a brief shower of sparks from the wall showed why- he'd been thrown right through an electrical main.

Above ground, several neighbourhoods blacked out.

Back near the fray, Flashpoint Zeo shifted uneasily. He disliked being a passive observer in a fight, but any flame spells he cast and left would quickly be extinguished by the ferocious cold, if not casually dispelled by the Chinese sorcerors or by the anti-magic field.

The giant tank formed a fireball in his palm, tossing it back and forth in a flickering lightshow of flame, debating who to toss it at, or whether to toss it at all, when a brilliant flash turned the mist white... a brilliant flash from in front of the train.

A second whistling roar sounded from up-tunnel as a second dragon appeared, a sweating sorceror riding its back, near collapse from the strain of teleporting that much mass, even with the nigh-limitless font of magic roaring beneath him.

Flashpoint Zeo glanced back and froze for a moment. Then one blazing eye twitched. "Yes, fine, okay, get it now. Are completely screwed beyond all reason, anything else need throwing, or can just die in peace now?" he yelled at the ceiling, shaking one huge fist.

((all five of the ghosts are either dead or in tiny boxes, I'm thinking they're a non-factor here >.&gt)

((If you're talking about my character, superspeed, 'member?

Actually, I thought you were finally going to pry Egregore out of that coma, based on your last post, so I wanted to give you time to do that))

The Chinese forces scattered, the bubble briefly brushing aside the concealing mists as several of the sorcerors dropped under the withering fire... then teleportational energy flared again, and the wind began.

The temperature dropped even further, so cold that one railing actually exploded in a hail of frozen shrapnel. Frozen winds tugged at the 'Iron Fist of the Overmagus', then grew stronger, howling up to hurricane-force winds as the sorcerors worked in concert to build a barrier of wind, tearing soldiers and cyborgs alike off their feet, fouling their aim, and whipping colder-than-ice air across them, chilling them even faster.

Frost rimed across the ceiling, cracks appearing and puffs of powder stirring as dirt sifted down to freeze instantly and add to the mists. Then darkness closed like a fist.

Under the cover of fog and darkness, the sorcerors who had not died instantly were healed by their comrades and joined in on the assault against the Overmagus' troops. Two figures, upper torsos bare despite the terrible, killing cold, leapt into blurred action through the wind from behind the sorcerous line, the chill following them so intense that the air was growing viscous. One leapt after Toy Dispenser, a foot outstretched in a kick that could shatter cold-embrittled metal, while the other spread his arms in a gesture that sent a wave of frozen power towards the cyborg's troops.

Flashpoint Zeo watched all this imperturbably. "Move when are finished killing one another?" he suggested, his flames lightly brushing the ceiling as a barrier to the mystic cold that was turning the area down-tunnel into a frozen hell.

((waiting on response from Bwerp before I move the Chinese troops, sorry >.&gt)

Flashpoint Zeo leveraged himself up onto one elbow, the threat of the Tanker going supernova... at least accidentally... removed for the moment. Flames roared around him, tinting green for a moment, and he stood, looking stronger and more himself. Or, at least, the 'himself' that most of those with him would recognize.

His flames being still not fully back under control, the huge tank stomped to the back of the train, standing behind it. The icy fog from behind slammed into the wall of fire like a bug into a windshield, and the temperature on what was left of the train yo-yoed so fast that it probably made some of those behind him feel a bit unwell, going from metal-fatiguing chill to near-forge temperatures in a matter of seconds.

Flashpoint Zeo tapped his communicator- somehow, his clothing and personal effects had survived the meltdown- although precisly how was likely to remain a mystery- and opened a channel on the standard auto-encrypted private 'hero frequency', trusting Isabel and Legion to relay his message to any who needed to hear it.

"Will hold off attackers for moment or two, give train time to pick up speed, then catch up. Any help appreciated." he announced shortly.

In front of the Tanker (and behind the train) the teleportational flashes were a solid wall of light, and the chill was so intense that the rails were cracking audibly in the cold. Flashpoint manifested a pair of huge flaming scimitars, crossed his arms, and waited. In his expert judgement, they had just over a minute before the attack hit.

Kruger reached the front of the train to find the two engineers huddled in the far back of the engine compartment, one nursing a bloody, bandaged stump where his right hand used to be, the other still holding a pistol rigidly, clicking the empty chamber occasionally. Empty shell casings littered the ground around him, and, at the front of the engine car, huge blades jammed straight through the walls... and across most of the controls, just close enough to mangle the control surfaces, but not enough to damage the actual mechanisms... and as to the engineers' silence, well, the blade sticking straight through the intercom panel answered that fairly eloquently.

The two lead Infiltrator Spirits had apparently decided fingers were not enough, and rammed their blades into both train and walls, explaining the train's abrupt halt. They had remained largely untouched by the ongoing firefight, since they were too far forwards for the rear cars to get a clear field of fire on them.

-------

Behind, the unearthly whistling roar sounded again as the cold grew more intense. Judging by the sound, and the near-constant flashes of teleportational energy... and the incessant 'ping' noise of footfalls on the railings so rapid that they merged into a steady state of 'ping'-ness rather than discrete noises... the Chinese main force would arrive at roughly the same time as the Overmagus' squad. In five minutes or less.

((Okay, wow, Rebel... of all the things I thought Isabel might have done, that wasn't one of them >.>

And honestly, I'm not sure if I can think of anything that might have been a worse idea ))

Isabel was smashed aside by one of the coils that was becoming clearer amidst the flames with an impact like a Mack Truck and a crash that was audible even amidst the roaring of the flames.

Flashpoint Zeo moved forwards slightly, and it became clear that he wasn't trapped in the flames, he was the source of the flames. Stretching out an arm, he pointed in the general direction of where the anti-magic field was coming from.

Another unearthly roar that managed to somehow include almost-words "Mmmmmmmgiiiiiccc bllllllllckkker... stttttttttpppp iiiiiittttt...." the tank managed.

Unfortunately, Kruger's actions had a number of highly unintended consequences; while the anti-magic zone prevented the air in the immediate vicinity from chilling, convection was still dropping the air below the freezing point.

The ghosts were being blasted apart with almost contemptuous ease... and then, when either of the smaller fragment-ghosts took enough damage... they promptly reformed into one of the huge Infiltrator ghosts.

The final unexpected consequence was that, when the anti-magic field brushed across the Tanker, he simply dropped, laying so still he appeared to be dead, the flames flickering out. Then fire fountained around him, a towering pillar of writhing flame that scorched a perfect chrysanthemum shape on the tunnel roof before receding a little. The unnatural mists were blasted away, and a roiling transition point formed- a glowing barrier that on one side was frigidly cold, and on the other, a furnace blast of heat and light so hot that the sides of the traincars were beginning to soften.

Strange, serpentine shapes could be seen in the fires, and a roar of challenge sounded, ringing through the tunnels, answered by the same, bone-chilling whistling roar that had been heard earlier... much, much closer than it had been. The Chinese forces were moving, and moving fast. Teleportational flashes could be seen, rendered faint by distance, far behind. The attackers were already barely thirty miles away, and closing with impossible speed.

"Trrrnnn... ooooofff..." came a scream from the flames. If one had exceptionally good vision, one could perhaps make out Flashpoint Zeo in the heart of the flames... although the figure was distinctly smaller and slimmer than the massive Tanker.

Flashpoint Zeo was laying into the huge ghost with a will, flaming sword leaving blazing trails in the air as he once again displayed that odd grace that characterized his swordsmanship... and the phenomenal speed that leant itself to part of his name.

Isabel's attack struck first, true to blaster form. There was a noise like a crystal chandelier hitting concrete from three stories up, and a dimly-visible bubble that had been shielding the ghost vanished.

The Tanker and the bullets struck as one, great gashes and gaping 'wounds' opening in the ghost, splattering the traincar liberally with ectoplasmic ichor that oozed slowly down the walls and whatever else it hit before fading from view, except where it hit Flashpoint Zeo... against his burning shields, it simply hissed out of existence. It was an unpleasant, slimy mess, but 'evaporated' quickly, leaving no trace it had been there.

As the assault continued, the massive ghost split into two smaller, more 'normal'-looking Ancestor Spirits, but otherwise it gave no indication it cared it was being attacked, or even knew the attackers were there.

The train slowed still more- lacking metahuman assistance, the assault against the ghosts in the forward cars wasn't going as well- the ghostslayer rounds were significantly less effective against the still-shielded Infiltrator Spirits, as they hadn't yet been subjected to Isabel's tender mercies.

Then Flashpoint Zeo paused, sword upraised, as he stared into the darkness of the tunnel behind the train. The chanting was building to a frantic crescendo as the phantasmal mists tightened and chilled, cooling to the point that there was a very real danger of frostbite to anyone not adequately dressed for sub-zero weather.

"Giant ghosts least of problems." the tanker said after a moment. "If train not moving again soon, are completely screwed."

To underscore Flashpoint Zeo's words, a whistling roar, like a train whistle going off in the middle of a train wreck, sounded from behind... in fact, from just outside the blast zone of the ruined station. An otherworldly wind stirred the freezing mists, setting up swirling eddies in the frozen air. A moment later, a second roar, much like the first, but deeper and nearer, answered the first.

Dimly, muffled by distance and fog, the sound of sprinting feet could be heard, sharp 'tings' like a cascade of tiny bells where metal-shod feet struck the freezing railings. Occasionally, when the spectral winds shifted, the hissing of frozen air whipping past something huge and scaly could be heard.

The ghosts redoubled their efforts, completely ignoring the puny humans that blasted them, a couple of them even reaching out to dig long arm-blades into the tunnel walls to bring the train to a shuddering halt, shattering squeals echoing off the tunnel walls as the ice-slicked wheels fought for traction along the frozen metal of the railings.

With a wordless roar that came close to echoing those drawing rapidly nearer, Flashpoint Zeo rammed his titanic fire sword straight through the head of one of the smaller ghosts struggling to hold the car in place, dissipating it in a cloud of fire and ice that cast a brief flash of warmth over the car. Then he scooped up a trio of ghostslayer bombs in one shovel-sized hand.

"Isabel, with me. Must break shields before arms effective against ghosts; positive energy seems adequate for task." the big tank announced, then hopped out of the traincar and blurred forwards, bombs in hand.