TeChameleon

On the other side of the portal, at the power station, chaos reigned supreme. Horowitz stepped out of the portal... and then stepped out of the portal again... and again... and again... and again... whatever effect had caused the first three duplicates appeared to be cascading out of control as thousands of unstable Jager-duplicates poured out of the glowing hole in space in an unstoppable tidal wave of green, some randomly vanishing into thin air, others splitting into two or more copies, a handful even spontaneously bursting into flame (although this didn't seem to slow them down any).

With a roar of "VE HUNT!" that rattled windows miles away, the one-Jager show got into motion, leaving a trail of destruction so thorough that there was little left but gravel and the occasional stain.

((You do realize that Horowitz has been playing with the source of that portal, right? It could potentially have some... interesting... effects on those that pass through. I know it's going to on Horowitz, hehehe...))

((I wasn't going to keep three Horowitzes running around, but this is starting to look like too much fun not to... and I'm honestly amazed that no-one has yelled at him... er, them... for putzing around with their only way out of there))

Meanwhile, all three Horowitzes were trying to get at the guts of the Pillar of Ice and Fire. "Moof, dem hyu!" one of them yelled. "Hyu schtupid... dot's my elbow!" another one... or maybe the same one, it was hard to tell... yelled. "Hyu are both eediots... get out uff de vay!"

Fairly quickly, they were brawling, in an amiable, sibling-ish-kind of way. One of them tried to sneak away to get at the Pillar again, but he was grabbed by the collar and yanked back in. The fight rolled around the platform for a bit, then all three fell off.

Winking back into view above the reflecting pond, they let out a triple, identical cry of surprise as they were doused. They clambered out, yanking one another back into the pool and splashing one another, before one finally reached the others, grinned toothily and said "Vell... dot vos fun. Vot ve doink now?"

Horowitz sniffed as the Longbow 'bots turned up, watching them critically from where he hung upside-down in the crystal mechanism. Then he snorted. "Dot von't fool nobodiez." he complained. "Dey schmells all wronk, und dey lookz schtupid." Then he shrugged. "But vot do I knows? I iz chust a Jagerkin."

He turned his attention back to the miniature Pillar of Ice and Fire he was tinkering with. After a moment of grunting and scraping noises, there was a flash, and Horowitz was upside down against the wall... as well as still in the guts of the mechanism and standing to one side staring at it. The three Jagers chorussed "Hah! Vonderful! De paradox inverter iz fixed!"

((*pokes thread with a stick*

*pause*

*Pokes Yosef with a stick*

This was getting interesting, but yeah, it's kind of gone flooie.))

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... you mean aside from the "On Patrol/Out Robbin'" bit that Posi mentioned?

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Thanks for pointing that out. Somehow I totally missed that when I was reading it.

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Heh... no worries. I've been guilty of that too...

*read read read... ZOMG!!!!!*

*skim skim skip rest RANT ON FORUMS!*

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I find this fun, though a bit annoying as well. I wouldn't want a character to have a "day job" that went against concept, so where I log them out would become a tedious last task for each and every play session. Could probably just ignore it, but in the back of my mind it would still grate a bit.

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I have several characters that don't have "day jobs". will there be places for them to log out where they don't need to participate in this feature?

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... you mean aside from the "On Patrol/Out Robbin'" bit that Posi mentioned?

Horowitz, meanwhile- reconstituted to a more physical form- was hanging upside down, poking about in the guts of the crystal Pillar of Ice and Fire mechanism. "Pffft... hyu think dot hyu ken be makink de private hyuniverses vit dis? De aetheric conversion matrix iz burnt out, de paradox inverter iz backvards... hy t'ink... de trans-temporal vaveguide iz smashed, und de steam power haz fizzled."

There was a brief shower of sparks, and the Jager glanced up to the stares directed at him. "Vot?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face. Then the voice informed them they were going back to New India, and the Jager shrugged. "H'okay." was his only comment.

((you know, I'm really not sure what you're shooting for here, Yosef, so I'm just going to run with it; if I've gotten ahold of the wrong end of the stick, let me know and I'll edit accordingly))

With the slow distintegration of the timeline and the reversion of non-natives to more... cerebral... forms, Horowitz changed. This was not a happy change for those that the Id-driven Jagermind had identified as 'enemies'.

The Jager's form blurred somewhat, as he slowly became an avatar of berserk rage, a green cloud of raw killing intent that spread slowly to encompass most of the citadel. Alharzed's troops died by the thousands in flickers of lightning that stabbed out of the green murk... lightning that could almost be mistaken for stylized claw-slashes, from the right angle. Those that were part of Horowitz' 'pack' would probably be largely unaffected, although the all-encompassing rage that currently composed very nearly his entire being might have some interesting backlash for psi-sensitives.

((for those of you unfamiliar with the Jagerkin, they appear to have an almost fetishistic (in the Voodoo meaning of the term, you sickos!) worship of their hats. You mess with a Jagers hat, and you'd better have a damn good reason, and probably an even better health plan. Or, more likely, a cemetery plot))

A red film had obscured the Jager's vision, and he didn't even register the various comments directed at him. With a howl of berserk rage that echoed through the weird non-space they occupied, he launched himself forwards.

The luckless zombie in front of him was decapitated with such force that the head punched straight through four other zombies before splattering on the wall like an overripe tomato. Another was torn in half with a single swipe, then diced as it fell, until it hit the ground as barely more than slurry.

A bound, and Horowitz was clear. His eyes were glowing red, his plasma rifle was spitting fire, and he was making a determined attempt to tear the mech's leg off and beat the 'bot to death with it. The organic metal of the robot was already deeply scored in a dozen places as the Jager's power-gloved claws raked and tore at it.

((Okay, edited my last post, Devious. The rest of you might want to glance at it as well- the one that starts off "The bullet impacted neatly on the plasma-throwing mace. Unfortunately..."))

((Might not be a bad idea. Even if it was a fairly common acronym, I might not get it; I am, as I said, acronym-challenged))

((... er, CE shells blow up? What does CE stand for, anyways? Sorry about that, that's just me being acronym-challenged))

The bullet impacted neatly on the plasma-throwing mace. Unfortunately, given that said mace had withstood... repeatedly... in the past the Jager's super-strong attempts to batter extremely hard things to bits with it, this really didn't accomplish a lot.

Except... The explosion tumbled Horowitz end-over-end into a pile of zombies, or at least their component bits... their febrile pawing, while quite powerful by human standards, wasn't reallly enough to hold a Jagerkin down. Shrugging out of the heap, Horowitz stared around, startled. "Hokay, who vos dot who vos trowink de kabooms?" A casual backhand divided a zombie into six parts down the middle. "Iz dot... GOTT'S FEESH IN LEETLE TROUSERS!" the Jager yelled as the mech crashed into the middle of the group, stomping heavily onto the green construct and embedding him into the stone floor.

When the foot was removed, the Jager was bare headed, the hat caught on some projection of the ankle. A low, guttural growl came from ground level "DOT. VOS. MY. HAT!!!"

((For those of you that don't know Jagers, this is your cue to run away. Screaming.))

((That's cool- and no panic. Given that Horowitz is a 'combat monster' in the most literal sense of the words, I'm looking forward to it))

Horowitz, meanwhile, had started to laugh when the zombies popped out. "Hoy! Revenants. Und here I thot dot hyu pipple vere suppozed to be so very advanced. Dese things are hyuseless... dey break vay too eazy..." he suited actions to words, knocking a zombie's head into the middle distance with a baseball-bat-stlye swing of his plasma-rifle-mace-thing, then pulling the arms off, "Dey'z schtupid... und schlow..." he added, stepping aside as one zombie lunged very slowly at him. The zombie that had been trying to grab him grabbed another zombie instead, and the two industriously chewed on one another for a bit before breaking loose and turning, looking more than a little maimed.

"Und dey schmells awful." he finished, wrinkling his nose. "Dere's scho many other troops dot he could be usink... even de booky-boyz vere better dun deze things." He hosed a couple of nearby zombies with plasma, turning them into briefly mobile torches.

((yeh, zombies vs. superhumans? Especially something like Horowitz? Not gonna slow us down much. Gimme a super-zombie or something, Yosef... something Horowitz can hit... I want to write a big, brawling fight scene!))

Horowitz' argument with Sage had carried the two of them through the field of black blobs and up to the door that Bladewing had shredded. The scent clearly indicated that Sage was also a construct, something that interested the Jager, but something that he couldn't do anything about now (and as to his being a construction of an insane and evil mind... Horowitz himself was a product of the old Heterodynes, so that didn't bother him in the slightest)

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"And no." he added in a more casual tone, "Othar Trygvassen I am not. But enough about me - who are you, you magnificent example of Jaegerkin...?"

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"Haw!" Horowitz roared, clapping Sage on the back with enough force that there was a good chance that he could get catapulted through the open door and land sixty feet away. "Hy likez hyu." He grinned toothily. "Hy iz Horowitz. Hy vaz de door guard at Mama Gkika's before I gotz tossed into dis schtupid mess." The grin took on a distinct edge of fond... and rather vicious... recollection. "Vos a good time, dot vos."

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"What the hell are you talking about?" Kamarov was pretty confused. "Who the hell is this Jaggermonster and why does everyone but me seem to know /everything/ about it?"

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Horowitz gave Kamarov a look. "Hy iz not an 'it'. Hy iz Jagerkin, vich is better. Und I told hyu... I iz Horowitz. Some people iz so slow..." he complained, utterly oblivious to the irony.

Then he noticed that Bladewing had disappeared inside already. "HOY!" he roared. "Bladeving, hyu iz not schtealing all de fun ov dis fightink. Get back here!" With that, the Jager was bounding inside, plasma and claws ready to burn and shred anything that got in his way.

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"You can be my spunky sidekick! Join me, we'll blow the world, escape by the skin of our teeth, and then it's cocoa and schnapps all around! Whaddaya say? It'll be fun..."

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Horowitz' head whirled when he heard that comment. He had been futilely blowing blobs to bits for a while, but... he stormed over to Sage. "Othar, hyu schtupid... vot are hyu doink here..?" he demanded. Taking a closer look, he complained. "Hoy! Hyu iz not Othar Trygvassen, GENTLEMAN ADVENTURER... iz hyu?" the Jager said, trying to peer under the hood, even reaching out a hand to try and lift it out of the way.

Then he paused, sniffing. "Vot hiz hyu?" he asked, trying to puzzle out the scent.

((yes, Horowitz knows the Castle Wulfenbach Jagers))

((... yes, but... shouldn't the lot have exploded then? I'm not about to take control of NPC enemies unless explicitly told to do so >.&lt)

((Uh, Yosef? Does Horowitz bombarding them with Plasma and large heavy objects do anything?))

((actually, Devious, Horowitz is 'on the hunt'- he's pointed in the direction of the most Alharzed-sense))

Horowitz was a green tornado, a howling force of nature tearing through the troopers with claws, fangs, and plasma. A handful of shots had hit him... far fewer than probably should have, given how reckless he was apparently being, but the Jager gave little to no indication that he had been wounded. The sheer speed and ferocity of his assault, along with the assault of those trailing behind him (or occasionally passing him, which brought a renewed burst of impressive violence from the big green construct), was making it difficult in the extreme for any kind of coherent resistance to be formed.

Then the Jager rounded a corner and came face-to-... nothing... with the blobs of darkness. He recoiled in shock, then hosed them and the surrounding area with plasma and random giant chunks of masonry, vehicles, and anything else he could tear loose and throw. He might not have been too bright, but you didn't survive for long under the Heterodynes if you didn't learn to treat the unknown with at least some caution.

The flaming haymaker pitched Horowitz forward, combining with his rapid pace to bounce him face-first off a wall... or at least, stick him face first in the wall. Hauling himself loose, he raised his hand to counterattack, then blinked when he recognized Dorian as a 'packmate'.

"Hoy! Hyu schtupid or sometink? De enemy iz de booky-boyz, not de Jagerkin... dey iz not even green!" Waving Dorian off, he charged forwards once more; now that the enemy was deploying more 'interestink veaponry', the Jager's own weapon of choice was out- it might have been an Arachnos mace at one point, if you looked really closely, but now it was a technological nightmare, looking like it had been the victim of multpile mad scientists and spraying streams of plasma that slagged building faces off and burned cars in half. Any trooper unlucky enough to be hit by it probably wouldn't even have time to scream.

Of course, that didn't meant the claws were sheathed... it just meant that troopers were dying far away as well as up close.

Horowitz hadn't even slowed down when the negotiator came out (and promptly got shot)- indeed, it was questionable as to whether or not he had even noticed. Anyone following him would find a laser-straight trail of destruction aimed directly at the huge pyramid-palace at the center of town.

Dead or dying troops littered the ground where they'd been cut down whether they were trying to retreat or fight, and there were a number of cars or big rocks (and one tank) embedded in building faces- apparently random destruction, but if anyone cared to check under/behind them, they'd find the nearly two-dimensional remains of snipers. Horowitz was on the hunt, and it would take an act of God to turn him aside.

Feh. Get some Tim Horton's donuts in here, and I'll be tempted.

As for creative funks... sometimes you just have to sit down and do it. I've been struggling with a piece of writing for the last couple of weeks, and tonight I sat down and managed to force out a paragraph. Then I looked at the clock and it was six hours later and I'd completed a chapter (around three thousand words to finish off what I'd already written) >.>

Sometimes, that's all that'll do it.

Of course, other times, you'll feel like you were beating your head against a brick wall for hours, but still...

((No, nothing wrong with sailboat racing, it's just not something that leaps immediately to mind as something that would cause one to miss an RP post. I think I've been landlocked too long >.O

And Horowitz actually speaks Romanian, I believe, although I'm a bit fuzzy on that- I personally don't speak Romanian or German, I'm just going from memory on what the 'official' language of Girl Genius is.

Oh, and as a comment on my previous comment about concentrated, extreme violence as a problem-solving method... Horowitz is a firm believer in Rule Six: "If violence wasn't your last resort, you failed to resort to enough of it."))