[ QUOTE ]
He got up, grabbed his old radio, and wandered back down to the main room. Assuming RJ was still in the basement he shouted down. Im going out. Ive got a radio with me so call if anything comes up.
[/ QUOTE ]
"Ok Sting later stay safe, and call if there is a good scrap to be had." Sean was bored; he put the clock pieces into the old gun locker. The only reason it was still here is do to the fact it was bolted down some how. He decided to clean up the garage some, moving the wrecks close to the rolling steel double wide door. So they could eventually be hauled away to some scrap yard. Or ready ammo for that green haired guy. He saved two of the V-8 engine blocks, so he could use them to make a curling bar once he found a strong enough bar. Taking his cell out again, still no messages. He leaned back on one of the wrecks wondering which one would answer.
There were those two blue skinned beauties, Halo Jones <sigh> the lady who ultimately made him the man he is now. Then the spooky but gawhd what a looker, fact she was dead seemed to be a problem, but she was a porter.
Then there is Zot whom he only briefly met, shed be the best bet knowing gadgets the way she seemed to. But she was hard to track down; sure he left messages for all three. But they might just think he was trying to wrangle a date in which case theyd ignore him. Another sigh and the phone went back into his pocket.
Even we mighty can fall.
Abrahms INV/EM Tank 50 +1 Liberty
Herakles Blood INV/SS Tank 42 Virtue
Street Doc EMP/Pistol Defender 29 Liberty
[ QUOTE ]
((Well here it is. Weve suffered a slight setback, on the order of 30 out of 50 some pages being deleted due to a number of posts that contained strings of letters without spaces that the mods took issue with. Ive been asked to summarize where we are and why were here. This is from memory, and Im not certain Ill remember the spelling of the names of the new members. So
here it goes.))
[/ QUOTE ]
Tell ya what, this was a very nice thing for me to find.
"SARS, Bird Flue, 9/11, Anthrax in the Mail, Mad Cow Disease. Pope John Paul didn't die, he preboarded." - Christopher Titus "5th Annual End of the World Tour"
[ QUOTE ]
Taking his cell out again, still no messages. He leaned back on one of the wrecks wondering which one would answer.
There were those two blue skinned beauties, Halo Jones <sigh> the lady who ultimately made him the man he is now.
[/ QUOTE ]
Ummm
There something you wanna tell me about RJ and Halo that I dont know yet? Or are you saying shes responsible for the research that became the tests that gave RJ his powers? Very possible, considering Halos previous Crey connections.
{Edit} D'oh. Was not remembering your revamp properly. Got'cha. {/edit}
[ QUOTE ]
{ Then the spooky but gawhd what a looker, fact she was dead seemed to be a problem, but she was a porter.
[/ QUOTE ]
You don't put in the next name, but I assume you mean Scorpio Rose, since she's my only living dead girl. You do remember that she's still in high school, right? Actually was about the last one I considered for this, but now that youve brought the thought up, shes got the least worked out backstory of nearly all my characters. Might be a good idea.
[ QUOTE ]
Then there is Zot whom he only briefly met, shed be the best bet knowing gadgets the way she seemed to.
[/ QUOTE ]
Well, Zots anal-retentive enough to go ahead and return a call, but since shes also the one Im nearest to getting submitted for possible publishing in the CoH back up writing stuff, shes gonna have the least permenant presence here in Two Six. But, she does return her calls, especially if someone mentions Clocks, so its a good call.
Halo and Zot would both answer Abe much faster.
And apologies all around for taking twelve hours to respond after mentioning I was going to participate. I found a new webcomic while surfing and literally spent all day catching up. If anyone wants to check out my latest obsession, its www.countyoursheep.com and currently in my sig. But my sig changes once or twice a month, so it wont stay there.
Okay, will be hammering out some intro posts in the next hour or two. Id like to at least get them up before the Daily Show starts tonight so Abe can respond to them.
"SARS, Bird Flue, 9/11, Anthrax in the Mail, Mad Cow Disease. Pope John Paul didn't die, he preboarded." - Christopher Titus "5th Annual End of the World Tour"
<<Hey
I think its alive>>
The voices came to her as if from a distance, muffled by soft, fluffy, darkness.
<<Schnikies! What.. what did they do to her??>>
There were more, voices, people, lights, sounds. Motion, not gentle, rocking, swaying, sudden transitions in where her head was in relation to the ground. She was being carried. Carted along over someones shoulder as if she were a sack of potatoes.
A vague period followed. There was warmth, light, then cold light and harsh smells. Awareness skipped like a vinyl record. Needles. Scientists. The thought of this is what it feels like on the other side embedded itself in her frontal lobe. And then memories tangled, needles, experiments, harsh chemicals, genetic splicing. Playing God.
Halo Jones woke up screaming.
Blue white energy pulsed at her command, lighting the darkened bedroom in sputtering strobes of blue-white into ultraviolet. She flailed about for a moment, kicking at her tangled sheets while trying to collect her scattered thoughts. With a force of will, she called the energies back within and the room dimmed. It did not become dark, Halos cells were imbued with such energy that it bled off always, a dim haze of sparkles and a shining glow from her open eyes.
Wrapping her naked form in the expensive silk sheet, Halo crossed to the bathroom and splashed water on her face, chasing away the dreams. Dreams and sleep could be so easily cleared away, not so the memories.
Angelica Jones, smart, sexy, ambitious, ruthless; scientist. A woman on her way to the top, ready to feed the alter of ambition any sacrifice it required to reach the fabled inner circle of Crey Industries. All that changed the day the Rikti came.
Bombs fell from the skies and even the mighty heroes of Paragon could not stop them all. Chaos and fear ruled the day as the city nearly became a ruin. Enlightened self interest, ever the most trustworthy of motives, ruled the day. Crey Industries offered its services free of charge, opened its doors to many in those weeks. Even the Countess herself was in danger if the alien invaders won the day. Enlightened self interest was not only good PR, it was the only way anyone was going to survive. In those times, Angelica forgot the main rule for the ambitious in Crey Industries; always watch your back.
Betrayal. A meeting, a negotiation done out of sight of interfering governmental eyes. Except Angelica and her team were part of the deal, their bodies given over to the aliens to be used as test subjects. The screaming began almost immediately, and even the muffling tubes of vicious fluid she was suspended in did not completely muffle the sound as her fellow captives died. Or maybe it was her own screams that never seemed to stop.
Fortunately, the mind can only withstand so much, and the hours became a numbing eternity of now with no past and no future; and now nothing but a blank period which only can be found in the echoes of her dreams. Blessedly, she only needs to sleep once every eight or nine days. Not the only change shes undergone.
Angelica was rescued. Years after the defeat of the Rikti, an investigation into the Lost Men in the sewers beneath Paragon discovered a secret lab. She was taken out and returned to life, but not the one she left. Angelica Jones had been declared dead, one of the many missing in action from the invasion. The changes to her body made DNA matching impossible. And, as one of Creys many lawyers put it; if the aliens who had held her captive could manage to turn her blue, give her the ability to spew plasma from her hands and make her fly then certainly they could perform a little cosmetic surgery and alter a dental palate.
The ordeal had robbed Halo of the ability to speak. She could think, she just found herself unable to articulate properly. For weeks after her recovering consciousness, she could barely control her motor functions. She was still considered a ward of the state when the laywers on both sides settled out of court. Crey magnanimously granted her a life time stipend, and even offered to give her a lifetime lease on a penthouse suite in the Gaspee District of Founders Falls. She had managed to exhibit her dissatisfaction with that thought, and instead the monetary settlement was boosted a bit more and she moved into New Thebes on Talos Island. But she no longer had a name of her own.
These thoughts roiling through her mind, Halo looked up into the mirror. Blue skin, powder blue like a summer sky. Her hair a darker shade, more like the clear Caribbean waters. Her eyes glowing brightly, even when she let her bangs fall forward to cover the right side of her face, the glow penetrated. And while she could now speak clearly, it still took much effort to translate her thoughts into a pattern which could be expressed. In times of excitement, emotion or in haste, her speech patterns degenerated rapidly.
Halo was her name now, Halo Jones. Slightly reminiscent of her previous life, a life she no longer wanted, a life she intended to make up for. Sighing, she dressed in what her closest friend called The Go Go Dancer Halo Costume. A belt of dark blue metal links, clasped with a silvery blue oval. Shorts, tight and very brief, on her hips; the blue material ran up from them on her sides, flaring out to cover her torso with enough modesty to keep within legal sensibilities if not everyones moral sensibilities. The top continued in this fashion to the arms, where it became angel sleeves. The boots were the heaviest part of her outfit, dark blue at the top, becoming lighter toward the soles. They were of heavy leather, buckles and straps upon them and strange markings on the side. Halo had bought them on a whim, mostly for the fact that the thick part at her calf contained pockets where she could carry such mundane things as her keys, credit cards and other personal items.
Strolling to the balcony, Halo collected her radio and set the earpiece and throat mike comfortably into place. She stepped out and let the plexi-glass slide closed behind her, locking into place with a satisfying click. Surely Crey could get in if they wanted, just as they were surely watching her at the time. Because of the constant surveillance she ignored the blinking red light indicating that someone had left her a message on one of the semi-official channels. Halo never responded to phone calls at her home. She stepped off the balcony and began to plummet towards the ground, thirty four floors beneath her.
She curled into a ball, rolled over slightly and five floors before fatal deceleration trauma, Halos hands became enveloped in the brilliant glow of plasma and she jetted out at nearly a ninety degree change in trajectory. Flying was almost her favorite part of being a hero and escaping the omnipresent spies of Crey Industries one of her true joys. Halo twisted to the side, skimming the surface of a fountain and dodging the branches of a tree as she flew nap of earth, out away from her apartment. It was futile, the War Walls and the need for controlled access to the different sections of Paragon City only meant that Creys observers could pick her up again at the highway entrance to Skyway, or pick up her trail off the monitors at the train stations. But it was important to Halo to not make any of it easy to the people she had come to consider more an enemy than the alien invaders who had altered her body.
Out over the blue waters of the bay, past Spankys Boardwalk and halfway to Ithaca Island, Halo finally slowed to a slow hover and pulled back her left sleeve to reveal the data-pad and controller for her comm set. Her brow furrowed
What could he want? Tapping the key to return last call, Halo cleared her throat and waited for a moment.
Hie! She said, when the other picked up. You speak? Halo is recalling you.
[ QUOTE ]
OOC: Longish, I know. My intros tend to be like that. I promise not to make every reply a novel. For a less prosaic form of the information about Halo, check out http://www.creyindustries.com/viewhero.php?id=11379 and it should cover everything, except I havent updated her in ten levels.
[/ QUOTE ]
(edit part)
Fergot to add... *Tag Abrahms* and it's up to him if RJ or Abe was the last one to call Halo.
"SARS, Bird Flue, 9/11, Anthrax in the Mail, Mad Cow Disease. Pope John Paul didn't die, he preboarded." - Christopher Titus "5th Annual End of the World Tour"
Newton returned to the Two-Six after calming the building owner and making sure the ladies all got home safely. He was shaky; his energy level was low, and he made a bee-line to the refrigerator.
After he had downed two Mountain Dews, a package of Ho-Hos, and a small bag of M&Ms, he started feeling better.
He clicked his radio. Anyone in the Two-Six? Coolant? Brian? Sting? RJ? Elisa? Newton frowned. Once again, the front door had been un-attended; then again, it was to have been Abrahms job to watch that, and he had disappeared. Along with the boss. With a certain amount of irritation, he sat behind the sergeants desk again, and wondered what he should try next.
I wonder where Sting put the clockwork pieces, Newton murmured. There may be something there that shows where the robot was built and Im in serious trouble, now, because Im talking to myself, and Im answering myself. Not a good sign. He sighed.
[Rough Justice?] Elisabeta frowned, though with her helmet on no one could see her face and no one could hear her voice. At least, not anyone living. Not that it mattered, the armored female form was hovering over the roofs of the area now known as Faultline. A shattered ruin of buildings and scarred earth where no citizen lived. It was infested with the demented freaks who served Doctor Vahzilok and the diabolical mystics of the Circle of Thorns. And, it had the personal thorn in her side, the Clockwork. And should any of those dangers look up, they still would see nothing. Elisabetas armor had advanced electromagnetic counter measures which were sufficient to render her invisible to the naked eye, as well as nearly any form of electronic detection.
[[Rough Justice.]] The hovering object that circled her armored head did not directly speak to Elisabeta. In fact, it was little more than a sensor unit for the computer processor in her armor, but she always felt as if it contained the source of the voice.
Her fathers voice.
The computer was programmed with the memory patterns of her father, dead and gone along with the world where she had been born. It spoke with his voice and Elisabeta felt that even if it didnt have part of his soul, it at least contained something like it. Dwelling on the subject was not something she did for long.
[[Sean McCalister. Formerly a Skull, low level flunkie. Worked for Marrowsnaps leg of that organization. Subjected to genetic transformation after an altercation in a Superdyne laboratory went badly. Apparently your friend Halo knocked him through a wall and into one of the dyne vats. He was subsequently subjected to the darkforce degenerative effect from her partner, Disease Eater, which in turn activated a meta-human change in his genetic structure.]]
[[Data file suggests he had already undergone the initial stages of transformation to Skull Bone Daddy, and the variables introduced through the Syperdyne genetic mutagen combined with Halo Jones supra-dense plasma force, compounded by the degenerative effects from Disease Eater. Cellular deterioration from the darkforce allowed a recombinant synergy which resulted in gifting the criminal with superior strength and near invulnerability.]]
[Great. Super powered punk.] Elisabetas frown deepend. [How strong?]
[[He is not in Statesmans class.]] Came the reply. [[But his observed abilities more than indicate he is capable of damaging your systems. And he would be highly resistant to your highest output.]]
[Resistant, but not immune.]
[[Correct.]]
[Of course, the real question is, why is he calling me?] She shrugged. [How did he even get the code to my comm?]
[[After recovering, Sean McCalister cut a deal. He turned evidence on some of his former companions, mostly out of spite as they left him for dead and abandoned the lab. He was incarcerated for a very short period, little more than negotiation phase of his trial. A condition of his current release was to be drafted into the Paragon Metahuman Resource Division, under the newly formed Hero Intervention program. He is currently assigned to Precinct Twenty Six, Kings Row.]]
[Hes a cop?] She scoffed. [What next? We ask someone to dig Frostfire out of the Hollows and ask him if he wants a job providing AC and heat to City Hall? She snorted in disgust. And that still doesnt explain how he got my code or why hes calling me.]
[[Beta.]] Only her father had ever called her that, it was his pet name for Elisabeta. [[Do you recall answering a general request for assistance with some clockworks in a lab reanimating themselves?]]
[Yes. Smoothbore, wasnt that the one? Not that it matters, the King will just reassign that designation to another of his Princes.]
[[Correct.]] The computer agreed with both her question and the statement. [[Rough Justice was the young man with the black skull face mask who also answered that call. You offered your signal decrypt code to everyone there, and asked them to contact you further should they run across more clockwork that performed spontaneous reconstruction.]]
[Well
that still leaves the question of what the frell he wants from me.] She snapped, but slowly turned in place to orient herself towards the security gate at the north end.
[[I cannot extrapolate an answer with any efficiency without further data, Beta.]] The computer replied.
[I know, Papa.] She sighed, activating her link to the citys extensive teleportational grid. [So lets go see what the punk wants.]
With a stuttering crackle of electricity, she reappeared twenty meters above the barbed wire checkpoint. Manticore, respected and famous member of Paragons heroic community had been granted access to the citys teleportals to transport himself. Elisabeta was neither as famous nor respected, but in the parallel earth, where she had come from, she had helped to install and performed maintenance on a similar emergency teleportational grid. Tweaking her medical transponder and hacking into the grid of her new home had not been difficult. She could, if desired, transport herself directly to the nearest hospital, and bypass the War Wall perimeter, but chose not to. Arriving without damage would get some people asking questions she surely did not want to answer.
She deactivated her ECM field, becoming visible to the posted guards in the towers. They snapped about, bringing their guns to bear in surprise, and then relaxed as they recognized her.
Any luck hunting, Zot? One asked her.
Neh. Her voice buzzed somewhat, the voder element purposefully altering the sound. I tagged a couple of Dukezz and a Prinzz over beyond zzSubduction, but then zzome of them damn zzzombies came zztumbling by with one of thozz Eidolon gimpzz. I had to pull back.
Well, good luck to you. He waved, signaling the guards manning the gate to allow her access back through to Skyway. Next time bring friends.
As the blue armored form sped into the darkness of the giant airlock structure that protected the rest of Paragon City from the monsters in Faultline, his companion elbowed the man in the ribs.
What was that all about? He asked. "You mostly igore the Heroes."
Oh, that was just Zot. Came the answer. Dunno who she is really, Im thinking she must be ugly because no one sees her outside of that armor. But shes got a powerful mad on for the Clocks. She comes in at least three times a week, sometimes more. Always goes out and smashes some Gears.
Why? They just rebuild. Damn things are worse than cockroaches.
Well if it werent for her, and others dedicated to reclaiming this place, then theyd be swarming the walls now, wouldnt they? Came the angry reply. I know youre new, so Ill cut you some slack. But dont ever talk trash, not even a little bit of doubt. Not about the ones who come here. Most heroes have given up on this corner. Be glad someone knows how important every corner of Paragon is.
Elsiabeta, also known as Zot, sometimes called the Ultimate Zot, heard none of this. She had already passed through the airlock and reactivated her ECM field. Keeping her jaunts low power required more jumps to cross Skyway, but also prevented her signal from spiking and maybe raising notice from those who monitored the grid. Her armor was capable of a fairly swift hover, so she was never in danger of falling while reorientating herself. She ported through the tunnel that connected Skyway to the Kings Row zone. Two jaunts from there brought her to the Freedom Plaza.
Her HUD, Heads Up Display, illuminated a holographic version of the city map, seeming to project it in three dimensions before her. A quick moment to query the data banks and she had a highlighted star to indicate the location of the Two Six. Continuing to travel under full ECM, she moved out towards the Gish. Before answering any call, Elisabeta was going to ensure she was not moving into a trap.
[ QUOTE ]
Okay, so heres Zot. This is taking longer than I thought. And since I still dont know for sure that Abe was calling Rosa anyways, I wont do anything for the Living Dead Girl tonight. Besides, its almost 0200. So, if you wanna see the Crey file on Zot, its here : http://www.creyindustries.com/viewhero.php?id=11406. Oh
and just where in Kings Row is the good ol two six located?
[/ QUOTE ]
"SARS, Bird Flue, 9/11, Anthrax in the Mail, Mad Cow Disease. Pope John Paul didn't die, he preboarded." - Christopher Titus "5th Annual End of the World Tour"
[Newton] [ QUOTE ]
He clicked his radio. Anyone in the Two-Six? Coolant? Brian? Sting? RJ? Elisa? Newton frowned. Once again, the front door had been un-attended; then again, it was to have been Abrahms job to watch that, and he had disappeared. Along with the boss. With a certain amount of irritation, he sat behind the sergeants desk again, and wondered what he should try next.
[/ QUOTE ]
Eric stood outside the Force Field looking through. Inside he could see an overweight man in the midst of consuming a hoho. Remaining quiet he watched the oblivious man for a moment.
Insecure about his strengths, an arm-chair psychologist who covers up his insecurities with humor. How can someone be so insecure about his ability to hold his own when he can bend gravity and space to his will? A bit of a voyeur.... wait this man wasn't unaware of his presence. He was watching him through some sort of spatial pin-hole... assessing him as he himself did the same... crafty fellow... That spying ability must not be in his official jacket or the Delphi project would have snagged him too. Anticipation, edginess, he thinks I might be here for something nefarious, he's not sure where his team mates are...
Do I look that threatening? Eric wondered.
Clearing his throat so that both could pretend to not have been spying on the other and go through the act of first becoming aware of one another. He took a moment to make sure that ... Isaac (names are always at the forefront of peoples minds and are easist to grab) was simply jittery because he was alone and because of the long pause at the door... he knew how most people would see him. He was dressed in a Designer Canali suit, his short stark white hair had been styled just this morning and goatee trimmed. He like to think he looked younger than his 34 years. His sunglasses were on so his eyes were hidden. He should look every inch the professional.
This man however fought crime for a living and his perceptions might be different. Since he might be working with these people he made every effort to keep the man's thoughts out of his head. What he knew already was probably too much.
Eric smiled through the Force Field.
"You must be Newton's Apple. I've read about you and your groups efforts here in the Row." Pulling out his Paragon Supers registration ID he held it up so that the man could see it. My name is Eric Massey or Eidolon, whichever's easier. I was hoping I could talk to someone in charge. I think I've been sent here to die so I'd like to get it out of the way as soon as possible.
[ QUOTE ]
Anyone in the Two-Six? Coolant? Brian? Sting? RJ? Elisa?
[/ QUOTE ]
Sting activated his radio. Heya Newton! Im on a little fact-finding mission here. Ill be back in no time and we can have a little pow-wow on what to do next. RJ called some friends well maybe acquaintances would be a better word that might be able to help with our problem. I dont suppose anyone has heard from Abrahms or the boss?
Sting signed off and continued on his way.
Sting saw them standing on the street corner the one standing on the box was spouting Council propaganda. There were three Council soldiers; the talker looked like a slightly higher rank, maybe an officer.
Sting saw the lackey he was looking for though. A little weasel named Harold Meinholz, he had dealt with before when he needed some information.
He landed and threw a handful of spines into the man closest, then stepped up and sent a burst of spines out into all of them.
Before they could react, he had dropped his initial target with a swipe, and only the Lieutenant and Harold remained. Harold hesitated, recognizing the bug man, but the Lieutenant instantly went into a combat stance and threw a sharp kick at Sting. It connected, and hurt, but Sting started in on him with jabs, swipes, and thrusts of his spines.
Harold slowly stepped back and watched the two combatants. Soon it was clear that the poison from Stings spines was slowing the Lieutenant down and that the outcome was inevitable. Harold pulled the pistol out of his holster it was styled to look like an old German WWII Luger.
Just as the Lieutenant fell Harold fired. The bullet hit Sting squarely in the chest. The hollow-point bullet flattened against the chitin, only cracking a bit of it off.
Oh Harry boy, you know that hollow-points dont penetrate this stuff. What are you doing using those loads? Expecting soft targets in the City of Heroes? Sting shook his head.
Harrys eyes got wide and he fired twice more before Sting got to him, but he was panicked now and both missed.
A quick swipe to cut the arm with the gun and it clattered to the ground. Then Sting dragged him into an alleyway, knocked him over, and sat on his chest.
Well Harry, that was no way to greet an old friend now was it? Sting smiled as he cut buttons and decorations off of the Council uniform with his spines. Hmm, looks like your primary responsibilities are still recruiting and computers. Sting said as he pointed to the duty patches.
So what say you do a little digging for me in that wonderful Council database? You know, like back in the old days after I saved your sister from that gang of Outcasts.
Harry was obviously scared, but tried to reason with the psychotic bug-man. But you said we were even! You said I didnt have to do anything else for you!
Sting bent down and put his face right next to Harrys. I changed my mind. He sat back up. So I want you to use the Council database to dig up anything you can on odd clockwork behavior specifically using an electrical field to teleport people away. And I want you to find out about any reports of big lizard-like creatures that spit green goop, living in the sewers. Got it?
You know I only have the most basic access. I wont be able to search for that stuff. Harry whined.
Harry, you are a bright boy. You are a computer genius you can dig deeper than your normal access. After all, it would break your moms heart to hear that you had joined that nasty Council! Oh, and your mom has a bad heart already doesnt she. I dont have to take the boat out Strigga and tell her about your chosen profession, do I?
Harry stuttered. Ah, um, I
you wouldnt, would you?
It is all up to you Harry. Heres a phone number that I can be reached at. It is the 26th precinct in Kings Row so you might want to be careful when you call there so your Council buddies dont get wise to it.
Sting got up and helped Harry up. Now, to make this look good for you, beat me up a little bit and I will activate my medical recall and go to the hospital. You can tell them that you got the drop on my and sent me packing. Youll probably get a freaking medal for it. Now come on, hit me.
Sting stood there, but Harry looked hesitant. HIT ME! Sting shouted and Harry punched him in the gut.
It was a sickening sound as several bones in Harrys hand broke. Sting didnt even flinch.
Oh come on, Ill do it myself. Get out of here! He kicked Harry in the rump as he ran out of the alley holding his broken hand.
Sting slammed himself into a few walls, and scraped himself up a bit, then activated the hospital recall. Soon he was on his way back to the two-six.
"Shut up Mr. Burton, you are not brought upon this world to get it!" - Lo Pan
@MadGremlin
Rough Justice finnished his rearangement of the garage and headed upstairs. As he stepped into the lobby, his phone rang as he saw a man outside looking in, and Newton sitting at the desk. "Ah hey Newton, right? Do you have coms for the group.? I got to get this," pulling the phone out and seeing the caller. "yes" Sean smiled as he hit the recieve button as well as pointing out side to the watcher. Then nodded and headed to the side area to talk. "Hello Halo, yes its me Sean. Sean McCallister. Yeah you know" sigh "Rough Justice, yeah me so i have a problem I was hoping you could help with. Well not me, but this new place I have been assigned to." Sean closed the door to his room, saw the poster of Kara and quickly opened it back up. "Um well two of our team got zapped by a Clock prince an disapeared. I was hoping with your experience or maybe friends that might have an idea"
Even we mighty can fall.
Abrahms INV/EM Tank 50 +1 Liberty
Herakles Blood INV/SS Tank 42 Virtue
Street Doc EMP/Pistol Defender 29 Liberty
Two men one in a lab coat and one in a dark suit walked up to the street corner where not long ago the hero named Poison Sting had beaten on some Council agents.
The one in the lab coat used a scanner to check the area, and then scraped a few pieces of chitin and broken spines into a few vials. Meanwhile his counterpart in the dark suit kept a lookout.
Their task completed the man in the dark suit spoke into a small radio. Soon a van drove up, they got in, and it sped away.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ QUOTE ]
Eric smiled through the Force Field.
"You must be Newton's Apple. I've read about you and your groups efforts here in the Row." Pulling out his Paragon Supers registration ID he held it up so that the man could see it. My name is Eric Massey or Eidolon, whichever's easier. I was hoping I could talk to someone in charge. I think I've been sent here to die so I'd like to get it out of the way as soon as possible.
[/ QUOTE ]
As Sting came leaping toward the 26th he saw the man standing in front, looking through the now active force field. Sting wondered how long the thing would last now that Ion was not around to maintain it.
He landed in time to hear the last bit that Eric/Eidolon said. You wanna die? Jeez man, there are a lot better place to do that than this dump. Sting saw the hero ID. Ah, you came to join us not kill us? How nice. Here I think if you are in contact with me then you can pass through the force field.
Sting put his hand on the mans shoulder. Nice %&#$ing suit dude. Kinda pricy if you are just going to die. He said as they passed through the shield.
Thats Newton, hes in charge until the Boss gets back. Im Poison Sting, or just Sting, and I am unpleasant so dont screw with me. Thats Rough Justice, he is even more of a bada$$ than I am. The rest we have pretty much lost to boredom or attrition. Sting said as he introduced everyone.
So who sent you and why are in such a hurry to die? Sting asked in a nonchalant manner.
"Shut up Mr. Burton, you are not brought upon this world to get it!" - Lo Pan
@MadGremlin
[ QUOTE ]
As he stepped into the lobby, his phone rang as he saw a man outside looking in ... and headed to the side area to talk.
[/ QUOTE ]
As he cleared his throat tried to get Newtons attention another man walked in.
Sean, his name is Sean. Criminal trying to make good, he's angry... Rough Justice
Eric again made the effort to wall away his mind. These people were bleeding thoughts everywhere. A properly trained assassin could sneak up on him right now and he wouldn't be aware of it because he had to block these people out...
[ QUOTE ]
You wanna die? Jeez man, there are a lot better place to do that than this dump.
[/ QUOTE ]
"Holy Hell !!!" Eidolon jumped at the actualization of his thoughts. Except this was no assassin. Delphi would never employ someone so obvious. The assassin would be as invisible to the bystanders as he was to Eric's own telepathic abilities.
[ QUOTE ]
Sting saw the hero ID. Ah, you came to join us not kill us? How nice. Here I think if you are in contact with me then you can pass through the force field.
[/ QUOTE ]
Eric's touch was obviously hesitant. With contact there came unwanted intimacy.
Instinct... so much so that I didn't notice him, how does he think past it? No name.... no he has a name but identifies with Poison Sting more... he's not that person anymore, would like to be but can't be. He's just Sting now... South America? He thinks I hesistated in touching him because of his appearance...
As they crossed the barrier Eric quickly removed his hand, reached for one of his ever present handkerchiefs and wiped vigorously. The lose of connection let him try to pay more attention to the vocal world. Something about Newton and his suit? Bada$$ ?
[ QUOTE ]
So who sent you and why are in such a hurry to die? Sting asked in a nonchalant manner.
[/ QUOTE ]
"I don't want to die. I was sent here to die. I'm just hoping you all don't get caught in the wet-action. Though you look like yolu could hold your own. I was assigned by Vassily Chenekov he's head of a Black Ops Grey Works project. I really need to talk to someone in charge so that I can become someone elses problem... Although I can't reject the assignment the head of your project has the right to veto my presence. I've been to see 4 other division heads this week. No one wants my mess, I come with blood. Oh and nice to meet you call me Eric or Eidolon" Eric smiled congenialy.
(( OOC: For any toons with military or gov. backgrounds greyworks involve the use of mental faculties in espionage. Telepathy, precognition, clairvoyance, etc.))
Eric
[ QUOTE ]
Eric smiled through the Force Field.
"You must be Newton's Apple. I've read about you and your groups efforts here in the Row." Pulling out his Paragon Supers registration ID he held it up so that the man could see it. My name is Eric Massey or Eidolon, whichever's easier. I was hoping I could talk to someone in charge. I think I've been sent here to die so I'd like to get it out of the way as soon as possible.
[/ QUOTE ]
Newton looked up. He thought he had heard the footsteps outside of the doorway through his little singularity, but wasnt sure if it was a curious bystander or what. He rose, but then Rough Justice entered as a cell phone rang.
Rough Justice
[ QUOTE ]
"Ah hey Newton, right? Do you have coms for the group.? I got to get this," pulling the phone out and seeing the caller. "yes" Sean smiled as he hit the receive button as well as pointing out side to the watcher. Then nodded and headed to the side area to talk.
[/ QUOTE ]
Newton turned back around and saw Sting arrive with the well-dressed stranger.
Sting
[ QUOTE ]
You wanna die? Jeez man, there are a lot better place to do that than this dump.
Eidolon
"Holy Hell !!!"
Sting saw the hero ID. Ah, you came to join us not kill us? How nice. Here I think if you are in contact with me then you can pass through the force field.
Sting put his hand on the mans shoulder. Nice %&#$ing suit dude. Kinda pricy if you are just going to die. He said as they passed through the shield.
Thats Newton, hes in charge until the Boss gets back. Im Poison Sting, or just Sting, and I am unpleasant so dont screw with me. Thats Rough Justice, he is even more of a bada$$ than I am. The rest we have pretty much lost to boredom or attrition. Sting said as he introduced everyone.
So who sent you and why are in such a hurry to die? Sting asked in a nonchalant manner.
[/ QUOTE ]
Im in charge? Newton asked sadly. Boy, are we in trouble. We need to find Mystic fast. So, Eidolon, lets hear it all. He grabbed an apple out of the desk drawer and took a bite.
[ QUOTE ]
"I don't want to die. I was sent here to die. I'm just hoping you all don't get caught in the wet-action. Though you look like you could hold your own. I was assigned by Vassily Chenekov he's head of a Black Ops Grey Works project. I really need to talk to someone in charge so that I can become someone elses problem... Although I can't reject the assignment the head of your project has the right to veto my presence. I've been to see 4 other division heads this week. No one wants my mess, I come with blood. Oh and nice to meet you call me Eric or Eidolon" Eric smiled congenialy.
[/ QUOTE ]
Well, that sounds like the rest of our crew, Newton said. No one wants any of our messes either. Were that group of heroes that they dont know quite what to do with. You know, the type that dont deal well with authority. They wouldn't be too sad to see us hit in the crossfire. Our leader, Mystic Inferno, is missing, but as the poor sap who inherits the mantle, I can accept you in unofficially. Could I see your ID. I need to run it through the computer system.
He glanced at Sting. "Any leads on finding Mystic. And what did you do with clockwork parts? I wanted to take a look at them."
[ QUOTE ]
I can accept you in unofficially. Could I see your ID. I need to run it through the computer system.
[/ QUOTE ]
Ok this guy was either nuts or had no idea the kind of hell that was following him... Still they seemed nice enough and if they let him stay he might get a a few nights of sleep before they kicked him out...
Eric handed over the ID card that marked him as a mutant Telepath/Telekinetic.
[ QUOTE ]
He glanced at Sting. "Any leads on finding Mystic. And what did you do with clockwork parts? I wanted to take a look at them."
[/ QUOTE ]
If I'd been here sooner I might have an idea of the feel of your Division Head. Although wide ranging scans are difficult I could at least telll you if he was still in Kings Row. Turning to Sting as he pulled black gloves over his hands he smiled and said ... " I'm a telepath..."
Ok Eric, welcome to the nut house. Might want to stay clear of this mess. He indicated his head. Not very nice stuff in there.
Clock parts? They are downstairs in the motor pool. RJ called some people he knew to see if they could help. I went and shook down a guy I know probably wont hear back for a day or two but hell come through. No idea if hell find anything though.
"Shut up Mr. Burton, you are not brought upon this world to get it!" - Lo Pan
@MadGremlin
Hehehe
good call on putting Kara on RJs poster. She would do that, and give the proceeds to a charity. Hmmm
the real question is how much cheesecake she could be talked into. Shes naïve, but not stupid. Dunno about bringing her into this instead of Zot though, shes another tanker. The only real difference between her and RJ is that she flies, and looks better in a bikini.
Well deal with Zot first and then see if I drift over to something else.
On a different subject, have yall thought about making a Two Six SG on a server somplace and doing something with it? Theres a thread on RP-SGs on the Liberty section of the forums and it got me thinking about it. And, of course, you would all come to Liberty so I am not inconvenienced. <grin>
Finally, and mostly for our new psychic, please go check my Crey files on the heroes involved here. Up to you to decide how their mental problems impact your abilities, but Id appreciate your keeping my idiosyncrasies and such in mind. For the purposes of this shared writing thing I have added a For the purpose of RP section on them all. I was gonna take longer to work it through, but your addition prompted me to speed it up.
Halo
http://www.creyindustries.com/viewhero.php?id=11379
Zot
http://www.creyindustries.com/viewhero.php?id=11406
Been having wicked bad T-Storms all afternoon and evening. Tried doing all this in two big posts, it keeps messing up. I hope nothing double posts. Gonna chop it up and hope it can get through the data-pipe better.
"SARS, Bird Flue, 9/11, Anthrax in the Mail, Mad Cow Disease. Pope John Paul didn't die, he preboarded." - Christopher Titus "5th Annual End of the World Tour"
Sean then nodded and headed to the side area to talk.
Hie! She said, when the other picked up. You speak? Halo is recalling you.
"Hello Halo, yes its me Sean. Sean McCallister.
Who? She snorted. You know me?
Yeah you know" sigh "Rough Justice
Skull Boy! Halo said happy to have identified her caller.
Yeah me. He stifled the urge to sigh again. So I have a problem I was hoping you could help with. Well not me, but this new place I have been assigned to." Sean closed the door to his room, saw the poster of Kara and quickly opened it back up. "Um well two of our team got zapped by a Clock prince an disappeared. I was hoping with your experience or maybe friends that might have an idea"
Clocks? Halos frown is almost audible. Feh. Toys!
Normally I might agree with you. He replied. But they are dangerous toys and now they have a trick that can make people vanish. If theyve tapped into the city rescue grid
He let the sentence trail off.
Bad thing. Halo nodded, though he couldnt see her. Very bad thing. I come to fix the portation clock?
Uhh
Yes? Sean offered. If by that you mean youll come look at it.
Hie! She bobbed her head in agreement. Is can look close. See if can see how toys make vanishing peoples. She paused. Where is can find Arr Jay?
Kings Row. He replied. Im assigned to Precinct Two Six. Sean tapped a few keys on the control pad of his phone. Theres the coordinates. Just come right in to the front door, Ill let them know youre coming.
Kings Row. Halo repeated, her voice getting hard. Lost.
Im not lost, Im at the Two Six. Sean repeated for her.
NO! Halo shouted back. Lost. Lost in Kings Row. Feh! She shivered in frustration. Bad Mens, Lost in Kings Row. Big Badda Mans! I come.
Yah, but
Sean heard the click and dull tone as Halo ended the conversation.
"SARS, Bird Flue, 9/11, Anthrax in the Mail, Mad Cow Disease. Pope John Paul didn't die, he preboarded." - Christopher Titus "5th Annual End of the World Tour"
[Not exactly impressive, Papa.] Elisabeta observed.
[[They are in the beginning stages of reconstruction, according to the latest report.]] Her computer replied. [[The Two Six has only been reactivated under the Hero Intervention program for less than a month.]]
Zot was hovering over the roof of the Two Six, unimpressed by its damaged structure. A force field showed at the door, but the roof was completely open and she could see several damaged windows. Not only that, but there was a hole completely through one wall, with what looked like acidic burns along the lower portion.
[If it turns out they are legit, I might offer to set them up some security.] She observed. [Or at least patch up the wall.]
She hovered closer, moving around to the south side of the building and out of sight of the front door. Her sensors swept the area for both human and electronic surveillance. Satisfied she was alone and unobserved, the armored female moved towards the building in a smooth glide.
[[Careful Beta.]] The computer warned her. [[At this range I can detect traces of dynamic tetravale particles in decay. Practically off the Voight-Mennan scale. This entire building has recently been phase shifted.]]
[Bad news?] She asked.
[[Good actually. They do posses a rudimentary security system, but the shift appears to have caused several circuit breakers to trip and other damage, some power supplies are non functional, though its likely just fuses.]]
[And the good news?]
[[Most of the system on this side of the building is completely deactivated. You can enter at will.]]
[So could anyone else.] Zot observed. [Keep all scans running until I say otherwise.]
"SARS, Bird Flue, 9/11, Anthrax in the Mail, Mad Cow Disease. Pope John Paul didn't die, he preboarded." - Christopher Titus "5th Annual End of the World Tour"
In Talos, Halos body glowed to nova brightness for a moment before she streaked off towards the north. Circling around Scylla Island and then south towards the Serpents Teeth. She skimmed close enough to the waves for surf to dampen her hair and tunic. Dodging the pilings under the pier that supported the warehouse on Helen Point, she came up to street level only just at the point needed to enter into the tunnel to Skyway.
Halo shot up into the air over Hyde Park, taking the high road. She streaked like a minature comet in a direct path, almost a straight line except for a momentary pause to loop three times around a radio antenna on the roof of a sky scraper in the south east corner of the Astral District. She whooped loudly in excitement as she dropped like a rock towards the highway and she caused cars to swerve wildly as she ignited her plasma flight less than three yards above the pavement. Her blue white blasts illuminated the tunnel as she barreled down it at greater than seventy miles per hour and into Kings Row.
Entering the Industrial Avenue region, the wind from Halos passage buffeted three young men who were lounging against a fence. Knocked over by the force, they shouted obscenities at her.
Theres a reason they give those people free train passes. One grumbled, climbing back to his feet.
Halo didnt hear them, and she didnt care. They were not the first to observe that, while flying, Halo was a menace in her own right. They would not be the last.
Soon! Soon the time of reckoning will be at hand!
The crazed voice caught her attention, arrested her headlong flight towards the Gish as surely as a brick wall. Halo skidded in mid-air, twisting into a wing over and diving down towards the voice. A bushy haired, bedraggled man stood on a box, shouting at the people walking on the street. For the most part he was ignored. Halos eyes blazed, she struggled with the urge to swoop down. But it was just a man. He wore a trashcan lid for armor over his chest, and most certainly had been contaminated by the twisted thinking of the Lost Sewer Men, but he was not one of the ones who drove daggers into her brain every time she slept. Her fists glowed brightly, catching his eye.
We cannot be stopped. The man looked away from Halo, almost taunting her with his words, but doing nothing which could give her cause to arrest him. Though the avenging angel of the Lord descend from the blue heavens to strike us, we will over come, over whelm. We will adapt and survive. We will rule you all, and death will come to those who have not given all glory and honor to the masters!
Halo tried to jet away, but could not fight the urges in her blood. She spun about again and then dived towards the man in the dirty green coat. Pedestrians scattered, sensing that violence was imminent. Halo grabbed him by the jacket and spun about in midair, hurling the pathetic wretch into a brick wall.
As she bounded forward, landing and kneeling to grab him again, he laughed. His teeth, what few were left, were bloody and his lip split where he had bitten down on impact. His breath was foul and his hair literally crawled with lice. But it was his eyes which filled Halo with revulsion. Grey and filmy, they looked not at Halo, but through her. She could smell the infection of the Lost in his blood. It raised a violence in her own blood, as if she were a white blood cell and he were an infection in need of destruction.
You cannot stop us, Blue Marauder. He spit blood at her face.
One by one! Halo promised. You be starting!
Halos hands shook and she pulled back one in a fist, preparing to strike the man. And then she screamed and stumbled away, dropping him as his eyes began to melt in their sockets. In horror she watched as he stood, his hair beginning to smolder.
You are a tool. Your purpose is not your own. He laughed again. You might turn on the hand that wields you, but in the end you will be mastered and you will serve our purpose. He laughed again, his skull split and something grey and bilious began to foam and bubble out of the bone shards. You have been and always will be ours.
Halo took three more steps back and then fell to her knees, vomiting into the street. In a dark alleyway behind her, a skull like face watched and grinned, showing teeth that were more like metal needles. The Pariah Prelate gloated silently as Halo picked herself up and threw herself back into the sky. Chitinous projections protected his skeletal body frame, and a huge, cleaver like, sword was hidden beneath the folds of his trench coat, but it was his mind which was the real danger. The death of a minor minion was nothing to his plans. Recapturing the tool that was lost to The Lost so many months ago would not happen without casualties.
"SARS, Bird Flue, 9/11, Anthrax in the Mail, Mad Cow Disease. Pope John Paul didn't die, he preboarded." - Christopher Titus "5th Annual End of the World Tour"
After entering the precinct, Zot carefully closed the window behind her. Maintaining her ECM field, she proceeded through the floor. It was mostly empty, and mostly trashed. Smashed desks, signs of fires, broken equipment abounded and several rooms were decorated with graffiti and feces. Blood stains on the floors, bullet holes in the walls and smoke stains on the ceilings; someone had been in residence that had little respect for the buildings structure. Syringes and greenish bloodstains gave evidence that a good many of them had been trolls.
[[Alright, Beta.]] The computer chided her. [[Are you still not satisfied? The Hero Intervention program is on record, the Twenty Sixth Precinct has been ceded to them. Everything is in order, except for your breaking into their building unannounced.]]
[I want to know why they have a former skull working for them instead of tossing him into the Ziggurat.]
[[Everyone deserves a second chance.]] The computer replied. [[Is that not right?]]
Zot paused, her heart catching in her throat.
[Yes Papa.] She said, speaking as much to the computer as to a ghost lost on a parallel world.
Elisabeta exited the room, heading down the hallway towards the staircase. Still under full ECM, but moving to the entrance to present herself. On the floor behind her, tiny brass men, barely larger than cockroaches, scampered across the floor, gathering particles of metal
bits of glass
The scavenged for tiny parts, and built more of themselves to help carry the larger pieces. They scurried along the edges of rooms, traveled through ducting, and clambered inside the walls. Like ants feeding on a dead cricket, they collected parts and crawled down below. Mindlessly returning to the locker where other pieces were gathering.
Rebuilding.
"SARS, Bird Flue, 9/11, Anthrax in the Mail, Mad Cow Disease. Pope John Paul didn't die, he preboarded." - Christopher Titus "5th Annual End of the World Tour"
The Prelate retreated back to the sewers, unwilling to be found in such an open place as Kings Row. Too much attention would be caused, too many of the more powerful heroes would come to investigate. Better that they think only the lesser brethren were capable of coming out into the light. He scurried along, to return to his cavern in Terra Volta. Psychic inspiration had called him to dare discovery and haunt the south end of Kings Row, and it had gifted him with a sight of a prize much sought after within the ranks of The Lost. If he were the one to return the Blue Marauder to duty, if he were to recapture the living weapon, then maybe he could gather enough to his personal guard to unify the Lost under his command. If he could manage that, then even the Rikti would tremble before him. He had a mental tag on her now. So long as she did not exit this dimension, he would know every move the Blue Marauder made.
Unaware of his monitoring of her location, Halo Jones flew towards the location of the Two Six. A blue streak of light against the sky, though the omnipresent smog from the factories obscured her passage. She arrived at the front, landing on the street and looking in puzzlement at the doorway.
Field of Force? She frowned, walking up to the doorway. Am to enter, how?
"SARS, Bird Flue, 9/11, Anthrax in the Mail, Mad Cow Disease. Pope John Paul didn't die, he preboarded." - Christopher Titus "5th Annual End of the World Tour"
Zot was halfway down to the main floor when the warning came.
[[Beta!]] Her computer warned her. [[Power spike. Clockwork! A big one just became active!]]
[Big? How big?]
[[Prince. Duke. Perhaps one of the Archdukes weve heard reports of.]]
[Where? Jaunt me!] She demanded, releasing control of her teleportational unit to the computer.
There was a crackle of static and Zot found herself in the basement. A massive brass and iron form filled the back corner of what appeared to be a garage. A rack of tools was completely demolished, absorbed into the building of the hulking brute of metal. Smaller cogs and gears were in the process of building more in three other places within the room. For the moment, they did not detect any living presence.
[They brought clockwork pieces back here? To their home?] Zot gasped. [Idiots!]
[[Now now, Beta.]] Her computer chided. [[Not everyone is as familiar with the workings of the clocks as you. Be polite.]]
Zot responded, but not to her computer. First things first, soft whumps of air pressure were the only sound made as she deployed smoke and chaff bombs. Billowing into the room, the simple minds of the clockwork constructs did not register the threat; they simply registered failing in their sensor units. One or two of the most strongly effected detached their own heads to more easily clean the ocular monitors. The big one was the threat though. More sophisticated, it shifted, searching. It had not quite registered the threat but it did react with more suspicion to the sudden dimness of it's sight.
Getting its attention was not going to be the problem, Elisabeta reflected. Surviving the result was. The cogs and smaller sprockets were not too great a threat, even in these numbers. But should they be allowed to complete the three
no four Prince sized units already under construction, then things were going to be very, very nasty. Elisabeta considered the time required to return to the lobby, convince everyone she was a friend and then convince them of the threat in the garage, it would take too long.
Sparks crackled about her in the air and high voltage arced from her outstretched hand towards the hulking monster. Circuits sizzled and pieces of metal blasted off its side, but it was too big to be destroyed in a single stroke. The few smaller constructs nearby turned slowly and watched, as if fascinated by their leader suddenly become assaulted by empty air. Most simply continued with their work.
In preparation for a sudden charge, whenever the rest became aware of her, Zot discharged a packet of cluster spikes, scattering across the floor in front of her. The high tech caltrops splayed about her in a semi-circle. Zot then turned to face the big one again, fully braced for it to charge or try to electrocute her. She was completely shocked when it ripped a wooden workbench free and hurled it through the air. The building shook with the resounding crash as she sailed through the air and slammed into the far wall.
Bombard smash you!
The grating clash of gears made the things voice almost incomprehensible, but Zot didnt need to understand the words to know she was in trouble. Clocks didnt name themselves, their names came from heroes not wanting to keep saying that one all the time. The Clocks that could think enough to develop a sense of identity were the truly dangerous ones. She struggled to break free of the heavy workbench and barely managed the feat before he struck again. Powerful bolts of energy arced through the air and slammed her again into the wall. Purple and blue lights flashed on her HUD as the internal computer shored up her internal systems and routed more power to her defensive shielding.
[Gimmie more power.] She demanded. [I am gonna fry his circuits!]
Red lights flickered on her HUD. The targeting drone locked on Bombard, a yellow light coming on next to the two reds. Elisabeta smiled inside her mask and released a bolt of energy that resounded like a thunderclap. Bombard staggerd into the nearest pile of clocks, knocking over their construction and flattening one of the cogs with his heavy foot. Unphased, two of them turned from their ruined project and began repairing their master. The other three turned their attention to Zot, firing blasts of energy at her position. Gears began scrambling to rebuild the squashed cog.
Smoke billowed out of a stack on Bombards side, and it staggerd off balance as Zot followed up with another blast of energy. In return, purple energies crackled along its arm, which reached out almost as if trying to grasp Zot, who hung some forty feet away. A ball of energy spewed out and encased the metal clad woman.
[[Elisabeta! Move!]]
The computer warned her too late. Trapped in an expanding sphere of power, termed a tesla cage by a public that didnt really know its electromagnetic physics. Ill suited the name or not, the field had a debilitating effect; all of Zots systems shut down and her armor locked up completely. The external sensor dropped, bouncing off the wreckage beneath her. Zots hover field was cut off and she fell to the floor. More importantly, the ECM field completely failed. She rebounded off the floor, fully visible. As one the entire room of clockwork constructs turned and fired upon her. Stunned, she writhed helplessly as the electrical cage crackled and spat sparks.
"SARS, Bird Flue, 9/11, Anthrax in the Mail, Mad Cow Disease. Pope John Paul didn't die, he preboarded." - Christopher Titus "5th Annual End of the World Tour"
Okay, a crash, a crackle, a crunch and a thunderclap, boom, bang and so on
. About ten seconds or so I figure. Should be more than enough time for surprise at the noise to clear and someone from the lobby come running to investigate. I hope the reactivation isnt a problem. One Prince level thing shouldnt be a real problem if several of yall come running, even with his court. And there should still be the original mystery pieces you captured from the others. But I figure the King knows where all his parts are, and so he could easily send some cogs to retrieve the things you stole. Beat them easy, beat them with difficulty. Zot is out of the combat for at least one round of posts from yall. Though if someone lets Halo in first, it would be nice to me. I leave all the timing of when the fight starts up to yall to fit in as many as wish to participate. Theres enough Cogs for everyone, the more the merrier.
I just like starting with a bang. And once I am actually with others, I wont have the luxury of writing so much of what happens. Should certainly shorten my novels here.
"SARS, Bird Flue, 9/11, Anthrax in the Mail, Mad Cow Disease. Pope John Paul didn't die, he preboarded." - Christopher Titus "5th Annual End of the World Tour"
Leaving his room Rough Justice was happy it had a door to close behind him. The repair project seemed to be coming along, but it had a ways to go yet. He heard voices as he came back into the lobby. "Hiya I'm Rough Justice, you'd be?" He put out a hand, shaking the tentatively offered hand. He applied pressure enough to leave a lasting impression but not quite hurt the new comer. One corner of his mouth raised in a half smile smirk.
"So Newton I got a hold of one of my friends she will be here soon. Unfortuneately the best chance is Zot and still have yet to hear from her." He checked the board, his little joke still there. "As Sting said the parts are locked in that old weapons locker downstairs. I figure if it gets back up we will at least hear it getting out." Looking around eyes landing on a hoho wrapper. "Hmm, so wheres the grubb? I am getting hungry"
Even we mighty can fall.
Abrahms INV/EM Tank 50 +1 Liberty
Herakles Blood INV/SS Tank 42 Virtue
Street Doc EMP/Pistol Defender 29 Liberty
"Halo there you are can you let her in." The floor shook from the impact of the bench smashing the wall below. "Told you wed here it escape. Hurry we might want here help" With that Rough Justic heade to the stairs, his movement a blurr.
Rough Justice almost flew into the room. Seeing the the line of clocks all shooting at the happless armoured figure. He grabbed the pry bar he'd left against the wall by the door. "HURRY IT UP IT IS UP AND PISSED AND HAS LOTS OF FRIENDS."He yelled over hi shoulder then hit full speed the bar helld to one side. Several loud clang, bangs, din, and squelches of steel later. All the smaller clogs and sprocket were flat on the backs or side. Rough Justice's sweep did two things, stopped Zots pounding and got the rooms attention. "ALL RIGHT, ITS TIME FOR SOME JUSTICE" he yelled as he charges the prince. The comparrison would be a little leauger against a pro line backer. But Rough Justice, smashed shoulder first into the prince lifting it and kept running until the concrete wall stopped there proggress with a loud crack.
Even we mighty can fall.
Abrahms INV/EM Tank 50 +1 Liberty
Herakles Blood INV/SS Tank 42 Virtue
Street Doc EMP/Pistol Defender 29 Liberty
[ QUOTE ]
"I have left messages with the two ladies I was talking about. Hope to hear from them soon."
[/ QUOTE ]
Sting took the hint and left the stuff alone. He wandered back up to his room and put the silicone wax on a table, hed have to give that stuff a try some time.
He thought he might get some rest, but as he lay on the bed the events of the day kept eating at him.
Giant spitting lizards, clocks that teleport what they hit something isnt right here. He said out loud to himself. Frustrated that he couldnt do anything and having the feeling that something was not right made rest impossible.
He got up, grabbed his old radio, and wandered back down to the main room. Assuming RJ was still in the basement he shouted down. Im going out. Ive got a radio with me so call if anything comes up.
Sting leapt away and was soon half way across Kings Row. He stopped on a rooftop to think. He was banned from both Hero Corps and City Hall, so no help there. Synapse usually hung out in Skyway and followed the Clocks pretty closely, but last time Sting had seen him there had been some unpleasant words and if not for the Hero Corps representative there might have been a fight.
No, none of the usual contacts would do, but Sting knew a couple sub-standard contacts. Soon he was on his way to Steel Canyon to find a recruiter he had dealt with in the past.
"Shut up Mr. Burton, you are not brought upon this world to get it!" - Lo Pan
@MadGremlin