bamaHulkers

Next TOTHI is up !

Two notes here:

1) The asterix monster has eaten a word that rhymes with "witch", and one that amounts to "stupid donkey". Not that this crowd can't figure out cuss words without my help, but there it is

2) Tiggy will not be happy LOL

The lock clicked loudly as Hunter pulled the door shut. “It was Clifford's idea to put that up there, and I agreed. I showed you because... if the time comes, someone on-site besides me needs to know.” Spider looked up at him with worried eyes. He smiled back at her. “Just remember it's there, and we'll hope this door never gets opened.” She smiled weakly, and nodded.


************************************************** *

“Just rock over it. It's a door, not a gaping chasm filled with lava,” Spider sighed, getting exasperated with her boyfriend. Junk was, by trade, a construction worker, but had moonlighted enough to be skilled in home renovations. “I can rock over it, no problem, but why ?”, he asked. “Junk, sweetie, can you just do it ? Hunter's paying well, and it's just the one task. Wouldn't hurt us to have the money.”, she pleaded, smiling.


He pondered for a moment, then picked up the slab of sheetrock in his thick hands. “Easy money never hurts,” he smiled. He worked diligently, taking care to make the repair seamless as possible.

Some time later, he stepped back from the wall and grinned “Like it was never there,” he murmured to himself.


************************************************** *****************************




“This is... a calming blue. I am calmed by this color. It truly is... a calming blue.”


The wide paintbrush was swallowed up in Junk's paw-like fist as he painted the sheetrock. He was speaking to his girlfriend, a slender girl with rather plain features. Spider frowned at her hulking sweetheart; she knew when Junk was being sarcastic, and since she had chosen this color, his comments weren't exactly welcomed.


“I was going to kick a puppy, but I saw this blue. I was going to go swimming immediately after eating, but I saw this blue. I was going...to mix whites and colors in my wash.... BUT THEN I SAW THIS BLUE ! Halleluah, thank you Jeebus !” He grinned at his own humor. Spider, unfortunately for him, did not.


She stepped toward him, until she was standing only inches away. “Junk, my love, I am getting the distinct feeling here you're mocking me. Mister “I Pull Toilets Out Of The Ether and Throw Them At My Buddies For Fun”....


“It was only that once ! Bill...” Junk began, his smile leaving.


“SHUTUP ! IT MATCHES THE DAMN CORRIDOR ! THIS WAS A MENTAL HOSPITAL, SO THEY USED A CALMING COLOR ! “ Spider yelled.


“Uh...baby... I'm for thinking it's not working.” he smiled. “However, if it will help...” he continued, then daubed his nose with the wet paintbrush. “Focus, Spider-san... focus on my calming blue nose”


Spider bit her lip not to smile. “Junk honey, you keep on about my taste in paint, and you'll have another “blue” body part... and it will not be calming. Not to you, at least.”


Junk pondered this carefully, smiled silently, and went back to painting the sheetrock.


************************************************** ************************


It should have been a challenge to get in here, and it wasn't. All it took was portraying a doe-eyed graduate of a secretarial program, and some fast talk about how she had “read some of Dr. Hunter's fascinating articles”, to win him over to hiring her as the “new office manager” It seemed to piss off that little street urchin *****, but she was of no consequence. She pondered toying with the dumb ape that was painting the wall that hideous blue, but she had work to do before her target arrived here.


Hunter himself showed her around ; “Seeing the sights”, he had called it. The *******. There was one area, an old dining hall, they did not enter. She asked innocently what was in there, and was told it was being set up as a lab-slash-work area for a project one of the new staff was working on. She gently prodded as to what the project was, but was gently rebuffed and told he figured she would see when it was ready. She made a point of studying the doorway and the thick steel door installed there. She wanted to know what was in there, and who was working on it. Might prove valuable.


But for now, she was content to study. She studied the handful of people who lived here habits, personalities, any signs of meta powers. No one was doing anything flashy, so eventually she settled for planning for her escape after she killed this unfortunate bank robbing *****. She already knew how the actual shooting would happen, and had scouted her exit off that floor itself.


Of course, if she just did like her real boss said and just killed everyone...


“Easier sure, but not as skilled,” she figured. Although, the skinny girl might be worth wasting a bullet on, because she truly was a *****. Hell, she might kill the Jill ***** in front of Hunter, the skinny ***** in front of that painting doofus in the hall... then just kneecap the guys so they could watch their women die ! The Jill ***** was Hunter's....wasn't she... wasn't she ? She furrowed her brow, and resolved to read the file again so she could finish planning the fine details of this job. She spent the rest of the day walking the halls, remembering all the turns, and every door. She fell asleep that night content she knew them all.


She was wrong. By one.

I have a Brute and MM high enough to do this. Any preference so I know which one to fetch Noox on ?

Sometimes I wish I could be that anonymous Having a weird name can have its drawbacks.

If needed, I can bring the Old Man himself, Demon Hunter to throw heals. He hasn't been respec'd in a while, but can certainly stand one; I can retool him specifically for this scenario

Next part is up

Hope it answers a few questions...and raises even more

Enjoy !

Max left the lab, and disappeared into the night. Maybe Crey's personnel department was clumsy enough to believe he was dead, but he had to believe whoever butchered his co-workers knew better. There hadn't been enough random destruction for it to have been anything but a carefully planned strike by professionals. So, he had to believe he was not just still being pursued, but that it was beyond nerds with guns now. Someone would know they had missed one, and would certainly want to cut off that loose end.

Time to collect his other equipment.

The homeless man disguise served him well in this neighborhood. This appearance was known, and he had intentionally caused a few fistfights to ensure a reputation as a man not to be trifled with. He had always made sure the fights were close. If he was too proficient, people might suspect he was more than he appeared, and that would have caused attention. Now, it seemed the element of surprise was gone.

He bumped the door on the rundown pawn shop, and walked to the counter. A thickly muscled man rose from a lawn chair, dropping a girlie magazine noisily on the floor. He strode to the glass-topped display case, staring at Max for a long moment before a crooked smile crossed his face.

“Don't suppose you're here to shop ?”, he growled.

Max returned the man's gaze, shaking his head. “Need the bag, Mitch. Time for it.”

Mitch's grin disappeared. “Goin' back to work ?”, he said solemnly, starting to the backroom.

“Hope not, Mitch.” Max called behind him loudly. Then to himself. “God, I hope not.”


************************************************** ****

The bag was battered, purposely nondescript so that it wouldn't look out of place on a bum's shoulder. Interior compartments protected the contents, but the exterior remained shapeless. Perfect by design. It rode well on his shoulder as he shuffle-walked through the district. He turned down a side-street, then up an alley. A bum in an alley shouldn't cause attention, but he still glanced over his shoulder as he walked through the grime to the backdoor of an upscale diamond shop. Using an agreed upon knock, he rapped on the thick metal door, and made a overly cheerful grin for the security camera he knew would activate within seconds. There was a pause, then a harsh buzzing sound and the slide of thick bolts in the door.

An immaculately tailored man looked down at Max. Anyone looking at the scene would be baffled at the businessman's calm when faced with what appeared to be a homeless man.

“The box ?” the man asked Max.

Max sighed, then nodded. “Yes.”

The man looked solemn as he shut the door. Max listened to the noises of the block as he waited, and suddenly felt very alone. The door opened again, and the man presented Max with a medium sized box. Max took it without comment, pausing only to slide it into the shoulder bag. When he turned to thank the man, the door was shut. The metallic clunk of the bolts slamming home reminded Max he was in the open with some very valuable belongings. He looked for the nearest shadows, and returned to them.

************************************************** ***

“Wake your *** up. We're gonna talk”, an unfamiliar voice grumbled at him.

Max had been exhausted when he reached the Institute last night. Junk had let him in, and showed him to an empty patient room. Max slid the bags under the bed, then showered, changed into a t-shirt and shorts, and climbed into bed. He had slept in small stretches, still acting on the instincts the street had instilled in him. Finally, after the third time reminding his brain he no longer slept under an overpass, he had drifted off to a deep sleep. A sleep interrupted by the irritated voice of an old man.

Clifford Simms crossed the room and sat in a chair. His “sidekick”, Mr. Suggs, stood silently next to him. They had both stared at the sleeping man for the past hour, after removing the bag from the underside of the bed. Now it was time for the man to wake up and answer some questions.

“I SAID WAKE THE HELL UP, ******* !”, Clifford yelled, his voice echoing slightly in the room's confines. Max jolted awake, and slid to the floor to grab at the bag. Not finding it, he spun to face Clifford.


“Don't worry, I didn't open the damned thing. I don't have to. Know what's in there.”


Max struggled to focus as he woke up. He sat back down on the bed, glancing up at Simms, who stood and crossed the room to stand over him.

“You open this bag,” he began, “And especially if you open that goddamned box,” he added, his voice elevating. “I will kill you myself. Guaranteed. “

Max focused on Simms. Threats weren't impressive to him, he had dealt with many braggarts in his time. He took a deep breath, and considered this one. “First of all, who the HELL are you ?, “ he asked in a measured tone.” And if you didn't open the bag, how do you know about the box ?”

Simms smiled bitterly. “First of all, name is Simms, but my name isn't the thing here, yours is. I know what it is, and I know it ain't Max. Second, not only do I know who you really are, I know what you used to be. Before the Crey ******** you handed Hunter. So, I know there's a box in there, because I know a man don't go to work without tools. Which brings us back to my original statement; if you're bringing your work here, I will kill you where you sit. I will make a cave right here in this damned room, and Suggs will make you into a cave painting.”

Simms paused, letting his words settle on the air. “Now that we have the niceties outta the way, why don't you talk for a bit ? Convince me why you deserve to leave this room alive” Max glanced across the room to his bag. If it was just the old man, he might stand a chance to get to the bag and run. But he knew this wasn't just an old man. And that pile of rocks was faster than it looked.

It was clear the old man knew more than just guessing would have yielded. And, besides the very direct threat of becoming a bloody splotch, hadn't actually made a threatening gesture. Time for an overture.


“How...do you know who I am ? We haven't met before. Hunter could have told you, but that doesn't explain how you know about... my previous employer. ” Max began.

“Ain't nothing previous about that “employer”, son. You may be retired, you may think you have left them. But you have a skill set that doesn't exactly loan itself to workin' at the quickie mart. And those people...don't exactly like folks leaving. If they know you are here, they will come. And I'll deliver you to that front door with a bow on your butt rather than see any innocent person hurt..”

Max considered this. He didn't resent the thought, it would be fair. But that still didn't explain how...

“I knew your daddy,” Simms blurted, answering the unasked question. "He was a good man. A hero. We worked together. I knew he had a son, and I knew he consistently called that son “A worthless sonuvabitch. A villainous sack of dog **** that in no way sprung from my loins. A damned disappointment.” So yeah, I knew about you long ago. But let me tell you this, man to grown man. Your daddy loved you. He was disappointed as hell how you turned out, but he never truly hated you.” Simms indicated the bag. “You can't always leave the wounds of the past behind, but you can damn sure learn from the scars they leave. You can determine to change. Ain't never too late for that. Hunter says you can help our little retarded feller. Says you can do something can't no one else do. Can I choose to believe that ?”

Max considered Simms again. His comments about Max' father should have had more emotional kick-in-the-gut to them, but after a few hundred reminders- from his dad mostly- Max' numbness had proved thick enough that the bitterness didn't hurt anymore. Mostly.

Yet, this agitated codger seemed to be a bit different. Seemed to know who Max was, and didn't care. He talked of second chances, and actually believed in Max being able to pull off what he claimed. It was all Max wanted; a chance to change. He smiled weakly. “Yes, sir. The bag stays packed, the box stays closed.”

Simms smiled in return. “Well ****, then get your lazy *** up and get to it. Show me your daddy had a reason to believe.”

New TOTHI is up Thanks for your patience

It was intended to go longer, but as Sooner and I have found out, characters do what they damned well want once they are placed in motion

Stay tuned...

He had told several lies, and he felt only a little bad for it.


But there were some things Hunter didn't need to know, and they were things Max chose to pretend he had forgotten. Things he used to be, things he still was. Hunter thought he knew the worst about Max, and reluctantly agreed to move him into the Institute while he worked on the Smart Armor for Robbie.


How reluctant would the actual truth have made him ?

************************************************** *****

Max slipped through the unlocked door of the lab facility (His pass-codes still worked...”Idiots,” he had laughed to himself.). He had told Hunter he would have to “get a few things from his old worksite” before he could settle in. “Wrap some loose ends up.” Except, it looked like someone had beat him to it.


There was no natural light in the building; no windows to let in sunlight or streetlight aura. Still, Max refused to turn on the interior lights, choosing instead to use a flashlight with a blue-tinted beam. He had expected to gain entry to the lab, grab one or two small items, and leave again. As he moved down the hall, he began to notice a hint of ozone in the still air. Even for what the techs did here, that was uncommon. He stopped, and shone the light around. Long scorch marks marred the metallic walls of the hallway. He paused, and drew a pistol from a jacket pocket. Moving quietly, he reached his former work area.


At first he thought there had been a fire, maybe an explosion. He passed the flashlight's beam over the walls, looking for torn metal, wiring, anything that would explain what had happened here. There was none. Instead, he saw blackened holes; holes that looked like they were made by


An energy beam.


This had been a firefight. The scientists who worked here were trained in the use of energy rifles, but they were ultimately just nerds with guns. There had been a few guards, but a prideful emphasis on the invulnerability of the Crey “access systems” kept the human factor here to a minimum.


“Looks like someone found a vulnerability”, he mused darkly. He stood still for several minutes, closing his eyes to listen for distant footsteps, any noise that would indicate he was not alone in the building. Hearing nothing but his own steady breathing, he continued to survey what had happened here.


Max suspected the guards had died first, probably surprised in the front hall he had entered through. Whoever had done this proceeded to the lab itself and began to look for...what ? He moved to a computer terminal and turned it on. After several keystrokes, he found what he had feared; someone had hacked and stolen the plans for the Smart Armor. Then he smiled bitterly.


The fake plans for the Smart Armor.




Max and his co-workers had known the project had combat applications, and that they weren't the only game in town when it came to battlefield technology. To protect their work, they had moved it off the main system, onto a thumbdrive. Rationale being, if someone violated the system, they couldn't find what wasn't there, but if they found something close, they might quit looking.


Apparently, whoever did this, hadn't been fooled enough.


Being the project leader, Max carried the thumbdrive. And still did. His change of heart from mercenary architect of war to fugitive hadn't been a sudden one; it actually started with a passing question from a co-worker: “Who do you think we're building this for ?”


Max had paused, and realized he didn't actually know. He started asking “up the food chain”, and was finally told with a laugh “Whoever pays the most.”. Time alone to think and drink that night persuaded him that uncertainty was no longer acceptable to his conscience.


He was also shocked to find he still had a conscience.


He figured when he went “missing”, his co-workers would be coerced into finding him and “retrieving company property.” So, he had taken on the appearance and lifestyle of a homeless man, waiting for the day he would have to kill one- or more- of his former friends to keep the Armor technology from become a wealthy despot's plaything. Now it looked like someone had taken that task off his “to-do” list.


A quick search of the company's internal communication network confirmed it: “All members of of SA Research Team found dead by Assailant or Assailants Unknown. DB does not yield SA schematics, Corporate Espionage Not Ruled Out.” The date on the memo was last Tuesday.


“All members...” He carefully read the list of team members. His name- at least the one he used here- was on the list.


They thought he was dead.


He read the list again. People he had laughed with, suffered stress migraines with, drank with after work. These people were slain by “assailants unknown.” Just because of where they worked, where they chose to spend their brainpower.


He looked around the lab one last time, trying to hear his friends' voices in the silence. They were no longer there, not even in his memories. Knowing he had made the right decision to take the armor specs didn't make the silence anymore bearable. He stood still for a long moment.


A motion-activated camera, secreted in the clutter of a nearby desk during the slaughter of his co-workers, whirred imperceptibly and transmitted. A high-definition image of Max was on its way.

Very nice ending

Maybe against my better judgement... okay, pretty good likelihood it's against my better judgement... I'll throw myself in the mix here, specifically with my Thugs/Poison, Killer Jill. Good heals, pretty good debuffs. ::shrugs:: Anyone needs her, gimme a holler at @bamahulk.

I have all three noox ! I got them myselves, and by GAWD I have noox !

So, whenever we kick off again... Subtle's got him some party favors LOL

I'm good to wait as well Unless anyone has some major objection, we'll shelve this until Badge is ready to go. We kinda had lukewarm interest anyway, so maybe this will give us a chance to get a full team, since it *is* a Shard TF i.e kinda uncommon.

Very well-paced fight scene, and excellent ending to Ciara

WOOT ! ANOTHER ICICLE UNLEASHED ! Huge gratz to Ice, Mrs. Ice, and the big brother Icicle !

IF you end up stuck at all, I'd like this on either Mister Subtle (Stone/Stone Tank) or Killer Jill (Thugs/Poison MM). But leave me as a last resort; I see plenty of names I respect already on that list

Globetrotter ran an EXCELLENT MoLGTF attempt the other evening. The only problem we seemed to run into was a shortage of melee on the Hami stage, so... double check that !

ROFL Love the ending with Trix !!!

Well, that brings us back to four; personally, I'd like to wait on Badge to get his 'puter squared away, but we can rock this if y'all want, then do it again when he's available VOTING BEGINS NAOOOO ! lol