A nigh muted breath began to hiss in the wreckage of the building. How the Penumbra Sniper had survived was impossible to tell - how he had gone unnoticed more so. Either way, there was definitely a sniper in the ruins, and he was definitely aiming down the scope of his rifle at Cry.
He fired...
OOC:
My bad about that. 
It was just the only way I could think of that would get them there and make any sense. Everything else would've just had them not bother and leave. 
And Project, you're playing Black Scorpion as waaaaay too smart. 
The guy's got all the intelligence of a wooden shoe, trust me. 
Not to mention I don't think this is gonna work - the Arbiters would put a leash on stuff pretty quick, and anyone who messes with an Arbiter messes with Recluse personally.
--------------------
BIC:
Groul had harbored a sinister smirk throughout Energon's rant, the Field Commander's clawed fingers resting casually on one another, but as the man stalked from the room like he'd swallowed a broom, he simply couldn't contain himself anymore.
Bellowing laughter filled the mess hall for the next few seconds, echoing well about and into adjacent corridors, and it was only when Danger stood to kick Groul's nearest finger that the red-scaled being's mirth came to cease.
"I can't say I recall ever having encountered a more severe case of 'what he said, what he heard' in my day." the Field Commander spoke to Wolffe and the Specialist alike, letting out the deep breath he'd taken after his laughter coming to a stop.
"Yeah, I gotta say, that one was pretty good." Danger agreed with a shrug, turning back to Wolffe as well, and advancing upon the man at a slow, yet steady pace, "I'm afraid your friend missed the target by far. Groul here meant what he said: war he can understand. We can understand. In fact, it's just about the only thing we still understand."
The Specialist gave Wolffe a moment to ponder upon this, to let things sink in, and then went on, "Yeah, we're not explorers. We're fighting our own war - and trust me, if here or among the stars, it doesn't make a lick of difference. War's war any way you twist it, and fighting for our point of view doesn't give us the right to call ourselves the good guys; and neither does it to you. But to be honest, you look smart enough to know that."
"As I already said," Groul reached out to wrap the fingers of his left hand about Danger, pulling the Specialist back again, "We won't pry into your motivations any further...right?"
"Ruffian!" the tiny man spat as he wedged himself from Groul's fist again, "Okay, okay, I'll be quiet. Let go of me, scale-brain!"
The Field Commander snickered evilly, but obliged, elaborating to Wolffe, "Your friend does have one point, though. We really should find the Dark Rover. Not find as in locate - we know that - but to make sure no one gets a hold of anything aboard. I'd hate to think what either side in your war could do with some of the tech we brought along. If some of our weapons fall into the wrong hands, this war could be over in a very short time - and probably rip apart your planet in the process...literally..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
Target ambled into the room. He was limping slightly, and waving Sarah off with one hand. The other was clutching his ribs as he tried hard not to laugh.
"Oh noes! We pathetic aborigines might get our hands on your fancy technology and destroy ourselves!" he mocked, having caught the last few sentences. He waved Sarah off again. "Would you leave off, woman! The blood nannies will take care of things in an hour or so. If I have to spend one more minute in that bloody tank, I'm going to lose my mind."
The archer slumped in a chair, favouring his ribs a bit as the faint green glow of working healer-nanites enveloped him. "Hey 'Wing... how many times have we heard that line? 'Our tech is far beyond what you monkeys can comprehend!' or some variant thereof?" Target made a show of counting on his fingers, then smirked. "By my count... and this is just the times that happened when I was 'kicking for Uncle E and you were along for the ride... this'd be, what, the eighteenth time a 'highly advanced alien' lectured us on the dangers of their oh-so-superiour technology?"
He shrugged carefully and fingered the dark goatee he now affected. Then Target fished out an arrow with an oddly shaped, glowing arrowhead and tossed it to Groul, underhand. "I call this little toy the Deus In Telum. Nothing special against a standard target, but if they're trying something cute like cross-dimensional psyche backups or trans-temporal 'backdoor' escape routes... well, let's just say that the half-gram of antimatter and half-gram of ferrous neutronium suspended in the quantum crystalline matrice might have something to say about that." He held out his hand for the arrow to be passed back, and continued.
"Tracks via psionic morphic resonance patterns with an 0.4% margin of error (so some poor bugger doesn't get vapourized just because his dimensional alternate was being naughty); once it jumps the dimensional and/or time barriers (after using the dimensional border storms to power up the superstring generator), it will strike all the 'backups' simultaneously, then create an Annihilation Sphere out of woven Superstrings. Inside the grav-sphere, the Quantum Crystalline matrix is broken, and the neutronium and the Antimatter are introduced to one another at relativistic velocities, and everything in the sphere is... well, annihilated, while the surroundings are untouched."
Target shifted uncomfortably, his ribs stabbing a bit as they shifted around to knit back together properly. He shrugged again. "One of our tech boys slapped it together after fighting this aggravating sod named "Lord Nemesis" for the umpteenth time. Had a math git tell me that he could get it to run along seventh-dimensional lines pretty easily, but I haven't yet met anyone who needed to be erased from the Multiverse entirely." The archer waved a deprecatory hand. "'course, you shoot it at a regular bloke, it'll make a nasty bruise, maybe an unpleasant flesh wound, but that's about it."
He snickered, then winced. "I'm sure you lot have stuff that's vastly more dangerous but, eh, that's your lookout. So... you buggers're lost, eh? Looking for anything special when you popped out here, or did you just decide to swing by and right royally piss off my Uncle E for giggles? That's the glowie bloke with the armour, by the way."
"A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head." Seven Habits of Highly Effective Pirates
MA Arcs: #12285, "Small Fears", #106553, "Trollbane", #12669, "How to Survive a Robot Uprising"
Wolffe had remained fairly quiet while others spoke to Groul until Target had finished.
"Target, I understand your enthusiasm... sort of. But I don't want to see a remote measuring contest. I never cared for technology anyway," the blaster produced a magical blue flame on his fist and quelched it just as fast.
He turned to their pious visitors with cold regard, "Groul, we welcomed you here when we could have ripped you apart at the front door with our turrets. We have fed you and have been patient in trying to find out why the hell you are here and where you came from. All you have done is offer snide comments and argue semantics. If you don't want to outstay your welcome, which you are about to do, I suggest you show us some respect. This is not your house. Last warning."
He spoke with a slight animalistic growl and stared with cold, icy blue eyes.
((It's not necessarily going to work to kill Black Scorpion, but it will cause Cry some problems whichever way it plays out))
The Scarlet Eye watched with some amusement as Black Scorpion and his minions charged around like ants from a stomped-on hill. He was standing calmly on the ceiling, invisible and not-quite-there as an astral projection.
With minimal warning 'his' troops arrived. The Tanker smashed straight through the wall, his invulnerable body shedding mace-blasts like water off a duck's back. He continued his charge and nearly took Black Scorpion off his tracks, grappling with the giant cyborg. The two Blood Widows struck next, each popping into sight as they drew their blades across the throats of two of the loyal Bane Spiders from behind in a valiant attempt to decapitate them.
The Fortunatas hit next, psionics filling the room with pink mist, and the remaining troops hit as a mass, mace blasts, bitter ice blasts, head-splitting broadsword strikes, force bolts, and fire imps striking as one.
The Scarlet Eye chuckled silently to himself as a thought struck; Cry's mental imprint was so strong that about the only way his own meddling would be discovered is if he physically removed one of the puppet's brains and carved his initials into it with a pocketknife. He idly considered doing just that, then discarded it. Amusing as it might be to attempt, the chaos to be gleaned from an attack by Cry on the big dummy was so much greater.
Besides, it was already too late, as the battle was joined, and even an idiot like Black Scorpion would notice a dark man in a trenchcoat pulling out one of the combatants and performing impromptu brain surgery.
"A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head." Seven Habits of Highly Effective Pirates
MA Arcs: #12285, "Small Fears", #106553, "Trollbane", #12669, "How to Survive a Robot Uprising"
((Psst - Bladewing and Justice Reborn left for another base quite a while ago. ))
"Then I'm afraid you've been lied to." Groul retorted as he passed Target's arrow back to the man, "And please refrain from putting words in my mouth."
He opted to leave it at that, hoping the archer would get the point even without elaboration. The Field Commander had called their means dangerous, not superior - and due to this fact, he suspected Target to have an issue with extraterrestrial beings. After all, he'd heard that many humans indeed cultivated such.
The same stood as basis the red-scaled being didn't discuss the archers nonsense further, even though his 'explanation' had been full of gaping holes and glaring contradictions. Indeed, Target had rambled off more incoherence in a few seconds than Groul generally heard in months - and some of the Dark Dragon's henchmen certainly weren't the most stable of folks.
He then opened his mouth to respond to Wolffe, but Danger cut him off once more, this time with vigor that belied the man's micro-sized stature, causing his larger comrade to quickly shut his jaws again.
"You arrogant, conceited, self-righteous lout!" the Specialist thrust his hands upon his hips, "There the guy says he understands your point of view, and that he won't argue it further - even stops me from doing it - and you've nothing better to respond with than to keep harping around on him?! To demand that he respect your views of morality even though that's exactly what he's doing?! Geez, you people are even worse than we've been told!"
"I don't think so!" Danger shot an arm at Groul, stretching a rigidly pointed finger to preempt the predictable attempt of his comrade to stop him this time, "This has to be said, and you know it."
The Specialist then turned to Wolffe once more, now gesticulating heavily, "My pal here fights. That's what he does, that's what he knows. You tell him there's a war, he accepts that. But on his world, war, destruction, and killing people isn't considered heroic. Neither is it on mine, and we thought it wasn't here either. But if it is, that's your prerogative. We were just trying to warn you from making the same mistakes we have, but if you don't want to listen, that's just fine by me. You can find out the old-fashioned way: with lots of pain and suffering."
"Oh, and if you're looking to brawl over this," he mentioned in conclusion, judging from Wolffe's growl and start, "I'm sure there's someone here who hasn't gotten enough exercise for the day..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
((I'm pretty sure they were still brawling with Marty... or at least, they were until Diov *poofed* out of existence... while Energon X was yelling at Danger and Groul, and he hasn't posted since that I've noticed; granted, I've been a little out of it lately, but...))
Target raised an eyebrow, then cringed as a particularly sharp stab warned him that several popped vertebrae had just realigned themselves under the 'tender' ministrations of the medinanites in his blood. A sharp chuckle, harsher than it might have been otherwise thanks to his raspy, laboured breathing as the nannies constricted his lungs to prevent jarring of the ribs while they worked. "I can see why Uncle E went off on you lot... I could hear him shouting through the tank, and that takes some doing."
He leaned forwards and leaned on the table, steepling his fingers. "First off, you can get any ideas of 'speciesism', or whatever the hell you want to call it, out of your paired craniums. I don't care what you are, I dislike you because you are, not to put too fine a point on it, arrogant [Censored]."
He waved a hand, returning the Deus In Telum to its usual resting place in his own private cross-D storage. "Time for a quick history lesson; we don't call ourselves 'heroes' because we're fighting in a war." He snorted. "Trust me, this war wasn't our idea. Most sane folk dislike the idea of having their back garden turned into a battlefield, and this was our home."
The archer waved a hand. "Back in the day, we were considered 'heroes' because we did stupid and dangerous things to protect people from things they couldn't protect themselves from. Aggressive action by gangs, natural disasters, alien invasions, shambling undead seeking to consume the flesh of the living... that sort of thing." A faint grin, Target taking on the thousand-yard stare of a man peering into the past. "And, oddly enough... for the most part, it worked. Don't ask me how, or why... really, a collection of loonies in spandex aren't the first thing you'd consider building your security around, normally... but work it did. Calling ourselves 'heroes' is more of a holdover from those days than anything else."
"Of course, back on topic... as always, there was trouble in paradise. Across the water..." the Archer unlaced his fingers and waved a negligent hand to the East. "Lay a small, independent nation made up of a collection of islands and ruled by a complete nutjob who... well, I really don't know what he wanted, he seemed to have control issues more than anything else." Target relaced his fingers and shrugged eloquently. "In whatever case, he decided that we were 'in his way', and that he'd best do something about that. So he declared open war on us by bombing our center of government flat, while simultaneously unleashing more than a million troops, including hundreds of thousands of superhumans of his own, of a decidedly antisocial bent; the self-styled... and yes, they called themselves this... 'Villains' of the Rogue Isles. It's rather sad, really..." he added as a bit of an aside, "they defined themselves, by and large, by their opposition to us. If we went away completely, their organization would probably implode in a titanic squall of infighting."
A bitter chuckle that made Target seem far, far older than his thirty-five years. "Of course, in the process, they'd probably kill every living thing on this continent, but hey, why not? Then we'd be able to argue rather stupid philosophical points with you all night with a clear conscience. Well, clear of pedantic 'but you're not heroes just for fighting!' arguments, anyways; I suspect that there might be a twinge or two regarding the hundreds of millions of innocents we might have been able to save by acting."
"So there you have it. I suppose you could call it a 'war'... personally, I'd call it an invasion. We're more... I suppose you could call us Partisans... than anything else. A valiant, rather desperate collection of speedbumps in the way of the titanic enemy war machine." he paused as a thought struck him. "By the by... should you be planning to import your own war here, we'd really rather you didn't; we've got more than enough of our own."
"Oh, and insofar as me being lied to about the arrow? I saw it in action with my own eyes, when six of Lord Nemesis' alternates formed a hivemind collective against us, the united armies of four worlds and the secret troops of two others invading. I was the one to fire that fateful shot after a tiny team of us fought our way to one Lord Nemesis' throneroom, and it will haunt my dreams until the day I die. All six of the hivemind died in a cross-dimensional flash. Nothing was left. Nothing. Not even vapour. So... well, you may not think it can work, since we are just lowly savages and all, but... the evidence would suggest otherwise."
"And I'd rather not brawl, thanks... getting beaten half to death because some thug decides he doesn't like your looks tends to reduce one's desire to fight, at least until one's bones knit." A sardonic twist of his lips. "So, are we quite done shouting at one another over misplaced righteous indignation?"
"A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head." Seven Habits of Highly Effective Pirates
MA Arcs: #12285, "Small Fears", #106553, "Trollbane", #12669, "How to Survive a Robot Uprising"
((occ: I want to add to the story that Recluse is fighting on a eastern front agaisnt the rising rebellions in Europe, since the invasion was largely unsuccessful in tearing down some of the major super groups, his presence is only minimal in Paragon as he feels it secured. But, now the internal squabbles of the inner Lts. has only increased with Cry's position and corruption is largely tolerated within Cry's own department as long as it is in his control))
Cry's rampage was fraught with anger as his power increased. He nearly missed it, just in time the bullet stopped before him just a foot away. He smiled, but then the bullet exploded, a incinderary round. The explosin wrapped around a small bubble that formed around Cry, crisping agaisnt his undead flesh.
Metal and rubble started to rise, they started to spin and build force until flung at the spot the sniper was. "Bring one forward that can play with me!"
__________________________________________________
((occ: Your right BS was RPd wrongly))
His tracks gridded across the ground as his tail revealed a glowing talsorian blade he installed after the Rikti Civil War, the light across the room showed he tail penetrate the hero through the head as it went limp and the tail retracted as the body was flung to the wall denting it.
He rode forward pushing aside several Bane Spiders, though his intention was to kill, the Bane Spiders were about to take the blunt blow of combined Psychic Shockwaves from several Night Widows.
"Well chappie, if that's really what you want."
Another man strode out of a different building, apparently alone.
"Cheers, Spiders. How're things on this fine day?" The man continued in an impeccably posh accent. "Pardon, I didn't even introduce myself. The name's Frenzk, chaps, but that'd be Archon Frenzk to you."
As one Bane Spider Scout silently got behind the massive Vortex Cor Leonis Archon who was addressing the crowd, Frenzk suddenly stopped. Jumping into the air an almost miraculous height and spinning three-hundred-sixty degrees, the Archon delivered a crushing Storm Kick to the side of the Soldier's head, sending him crashing to the ground. Regaining his composure, he turned back to the audience.
"Now, I believe you know yourself that you're out of line, chaps. This would be our territory. I'm afraid that every last one of you is going to have to die here. Please don't call for backup - It's a rather outlandish idea at this point, now isn't it? What with communications jamming and such. Oh, and do please restrain your terrifyingly annoying psychic power, Lieutenant Cry. You'll find I'm quite the nut to crack! Ah, and speaking of hard shells, allow me to introduce some chaps I met just strolling down the lane earlier."
Suddenly, dozens - literally dozens - of Mech Men uncloaked themselves in a full circle around the Arachnos party.
"Now I'd practically be wasting my breath to let you know that I actually personally built these killers, and indeed did not find them on the street. Ah, but it seems I've done so anyway. Well then, need I continue?"
"Wolfpack Epsilon, do kill them all."
A flurry of energy blasts filled the area as the Mech Men rained hell upon the Arachnos from all directions. A few foolhardy Arachnos soldiers attempted to enter CQC with Archon Frenzk. The Archon immediately used a Dragon's Tail and sent them sprawling.
"A rather brisk exercise, isn't it?" He asked one Bane Spider as he pulled back both fists and punched a hole through his chest.
"They have been built by you Archon, but like all that is on this planet it is but the essence of the Earth. Besides what fun is destroying a mind when I can squeeze the contents with my hands?" Cry laughed as the blasts slid down the physic shield that surrounded him.
Once again the ground trembled as a invisible formed materialized, a hulk of a physic manifestation. "The guardian has been called my friends..."
"I find this fight quite in my favor Archon Frenzk, though as you might notice and agreed to under the agreements of the Contract of the Abator, a nuisance or any threat agaisnt Arachnos is punishable under death. With my authority I can make the punishment as of... now."
A sudden movement and one of the Mech Man was lifted off the ground and crushed, spilling hydraulic fluid and oil over a terror now covered in physical liquid. Its size nearly the size of a small tank, and a small detached spherical head with a now glowing red single eye. The liquid now covered detached titanic arms holding the crushed Mech Man.
"Can you fight a thing that is present only in the mind of its maker?" Cry laughed and started to float higher into the air to avoid melee contact.
Danger's explosion came suddenly, expectedly, and with complete and utter silence. With an exhale that somewhat combined a growl and a sigh, Groul had placed a large glass over the Specialist, leaving the heavily gesticulating Danger ranting about beneath the spread fingers of his hand.
"He meant your snarling friend here." the red-scaled Field Commander explained undemonstratively to the archer, keeping a close eye on his compatriot, whose face meanwhile had transitioned from ultramarine to indigo, "And while I'm not sure what a '[censored]' is, I'm finding these ongoing insults distasteful, to say the least. My friend may have a hard time getting this across, but he really is trying to help. We have been at the same impasse you find yourselves in now."
"We chose." he continued grimly after a moments pause, "We chose to fight; to go to war. We did not choose wisely. If you consider speaking from experience arrogance, then I'll just have to accept that. Walk your path. I certainly won't trouble you with any more lectures."
"And neither will he." Groul stated as he lifted the glass, speaking to the Specialist, "Correct?"
"Fine." Danger mumbled dispassionately, but did not pursue the argument. having spent the past few seconds in thought, he'd visibly calmed down once more. He'd also recalled another matter about humans - they really didn't like to be berated, and this was quite evident here. If they hadn't come up with it first, it might as well not have existed.
The same came into play with Target's arrow - the effect may well have come to pass, but his explanation thereof had been utter nonsense. Had he really expected these two to take him seriously? Groul may not have been an engineer, but despite Danger outclassing him when it came to the fundamentals of paraphysical components, even the red-scaled being had been able to tear the rationale apart at the seams.
Furthermore, Target seemed to be suffering from a gross misconception - and this they certainly thought worth of mention.
"I do have something to discuss with you, though." Groul informed the archer, "As I said, I'd duly appreciate if you ceased to put words in my mouth. I have not referred to you as lowly, savages, or primitives in any form or fashion, and I'd welcome if you stopped accusing me of such."
"Say, that's right." Danger spoke once more. This time, however, his words came much more thoughtfully, the Specialist having calmed his temper somewhat, "Where are you getting that stuff from, hm? That'd interest me quite a bit too..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
Wolffe replied flatly, "You may have had a choice to fight, but we don't have that luxury."
Wolffe was of the belief that misunderstandings were the fault of the misunderstood, especially when they were the only ones who knew what their point was. He kept his opinion to himself though, uninterested in yet another argument.
Bladewing turned to Caleb as they entered the base.
"Welcome to heaven..in a manner of speaking."
Grinning, Bladewing began walking past the runed coloumns and archways, explaining about the base as he went.
"To my knowledge, my base is one of the last originals still in existance, it is located within the heart of a supermassive asteroid that I applied shields and cloaking to, as well as formidibal weaponry."
Palming some runes in a specific sequence, Bladewing opened the titanic doors that lead to his storage facilities.
"And here is the treasure trove, i have over ten thousand of every kind of defense known to man...and one other thing I am particularly proud of."
Palming another set of runes, the lights began to come up, illumination the miles long storage bay. And there, standing before them, stood row upon row of Vanguard HVAS suits and Longbow Heavy Assault units, with thier tinier counterparts standing next to them.
Seeing Caleb's jaws of the floor, Bladewing explained.
"Every room in my base is larger than the outside thanks to extra dimensional manipulation, and as for my army here..well I stumbled across a mobile production facility for the things, and then managed to fix it and copy it, so I can make my own army of Heavies whenever it is needed."
"I think these will more than suffice for the upgrading of the Basiton's defense systems."
Smirking, Bladewing activated his golems, having them grab crate after crate of storage crystals, within which were turrets, defenses, medical equipment, power generators, and control computers, all waiting for a chance to be put to use.
Turning to Caleb, Bladewing tossed him a small remote.
"Use that to command the robot movers, have them grab a few manufacturing tables and as many salvage crates as they can carry, when im done with it, the bastion is gonna be as impenetrable as or more than the Villan headquarters."
Willing his powers to a higher state of activation, Bladewing began levitation crates and moving them back towards the portal to the Bastion.
"You, dear sir, are a legend. "- nelly. "PIE DOESN'T HAVE TENTACLES!"
Bladewing Draconian lvl 30 KAT/SR scrapper
DarkNinjutsu lvl 50 DM/REG scrapper
Dajoji Hino lvl 50 elm/ela scrapper
Bloody Byakko lvl 20 claws/sr scrapper
By this point Marty was laying on the ground, gibbering incoherently as small energy waves eminated from his extremities. He kept muttering under his breath about "kill bodies blood." All of this was being recorded by the bases security devices.
The footage was rerouted to the bowls of the base, to an area referred to as the Crypt. The Crypt was the area in the base where all of the salvaged parts and new defences were created and stored. Two men moved about in the gloom, One was a giant the other an insubstantial ghost.
"So Arran? Think we should go help Marty. I mean the guy is a dick but we still need to help so the base doesn't get anymore damaged than it already is," The giant said as he twisted a bolt in the side of a disabled Mech-man.
"Well Dee, it's your call. Youre my muscle after all," Arran said as he floated over Arran's shoulder.
"Yeah well. . .fine dude lets do it," Dee said as he ran his hand through his curly black hair in a nervous habit.
----------------------------------
The pair walked into the cafeteria. Arran floated over the crazed scrapper. He ran his hands through Marty's upper body, he used this as his method of examination.
"Well Dee, looks like a drug overdose. Power manipulators, nasty stuff man. We need to get him to the infirmory, drop him in a stasis tank till the effects wear off," The ghost said as he turned his head in a full 360degree turn to look at the giant.
"All right. Let's get this over with fast," Dee said as he brought a fist down on the side of Marty's head in a super strength powered punch. He rubbed a hand down his grease stained white t-shirt.
He picked the scrapper's limp form off the ground and nodded to Wolffe as he walked out of the door. Arran was left floating in the air, he turned and floated to levitate beside Wolffe.
"So you must be our new visitors. If it hasn't been expressed already, welcome to Bastion. So how has your welcoming gone?" Arran said as he picked at a bit of invisible fluff that was literaly invisible.
((Arran has a light blue aura surrounding his body. He is roughly 5'8" when he touches the ground and is wavers in the air. He is clothed in medievil armor except for his head, he has a hawk like face.))
I do not know my reasons for posting, but post I must. ~~Build
"We can't stop here, this is bat country."
--Johnny Depp
"I ain't bi-curious, I'm a man. Why do you think I'm wearing this tight spandex and got all these muscles?" Meatwad
(Jeez, get called in for one extra shift, miss out on 3 pages...)
[ QUOTE ]
Acanous's attempts would seem to be in vain, as his efforts were effortlessly blocked by the limits of his Detention Bubble. Nothing he could do would touch the outside, and vice versa. If he did go through with his plan, however, he would only be sapping energy from the air around him.
Whatever his plan was, he would need to act quickly. Jake's robots were almost ready for an assault, and would be cancelling out the shield and firing on the unwanted guess in roughly five seconds.
[/ QUOTE ]
(Diddn't know it was Detention bubble, thought it was a hold or immob)
Noticing that the bubble was containing all of his Negative energy, Acanous switched tactics. Manipulating his surrounding energies, Acanous concealed himself in a black-on-black field. Furthermore, he activated a small device built into his boots that would conceal him further (CoD+Stealth IO)
He dropped into a low crouch, almost kneeling, ready to dodge whatever might come flying at him when the bubble popped.
You can't spell Slaughter without laughter
All your gonna do is just farm behemoths anyways.
My thoughts on November 30.
((Devious- I'd consider it a courtesy if you didn't openly berate my technobabble as technobabble. This is a cooperative RP, after all, and my technobabble is certainly no stupider than the 'official' Portal Corps stuff and whatnot.
Oh, and Project_M? Calling shenaningans on Black Scorpion being able to insta-kill an Invulnerable Tank, with a Talsorian Blade or otherwise.))
Target sat back a bit, and opened his arms wide in a big shrug. "Your comment about your technology 'falling into the wrong hands' sounded like every other 'oh-so-advanced-alien' who has passed through here telling us that if we got our hands on their technology we'd blow ourselves up like a monkey tribe with a box of hand-grenades."
"If that was not your intention, then I apologize; however, after being told that, time and again, the refrain starts to sound a trifle old." Then he waved a finger at the pair. "And it appears that I am not the only one suffering from a misconception. I understand that you are trying to help (even if you are doing so in a singularly pedantic and overbearing fashion), but... Those we are at war with? We took no aggressive action against them, unless they or their proxies invaded our country and offered us harm, and then only to repulse them and return them to their own land. If that translates as 'choosing to fight' for you, then you are, one supposes, correct; but on this world, acting strictly defensively does not qualify as 'declaring war'."
He raised an amused eyebrow. "So, what does the 'voice of experience' say of dealing with those who are the aggressors, desire the death of oneself and all those who have even the vaguest association with one, and will not stop until either their warriors are dead, or else your side has been butchered to the last man, woman, and child? Perhaps, by your lights, we 'chose' to fight, but when it comes to an enemy that cannot comprehend non-violent resistance and wouldn't even notice it except as a convenience- 'Oh look, those who oppose me are unarmed and gathered in a single place! Fire.'- it was either fight or be slaughtered like animals."
He shook his head irritably, wincing a little as leftover pain from slowly-healing breaks twinged. "Honestly, you say you want to drop the argument, then make statements that reveal the most blatantly egregious errors of thinking... that invariably paint yourselves as holy saviours and us as stubbornly ignorant Phillistines... and expect them to be ignored?" Then paranoia twinged, and he gave the two a careful look. How does this whole 'we're only here to help' bit jibe with 'we're lost, and had no intention of coming here'? Best watch this pair.
"A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head." Seven Habits of Highly Effective Pirates
MA Arcs: #12285, "Small Fears", #106553, "Trollbane", #12669, "How to Survive a Robot Uprising"
((occ: Wawawa! shenanigans! It was a NPC created by me! Its strength at the moment wasn't very strong since Cry's interrogations. Anyway its invul, he should of been granite.))
[ QUOTE ]
With that, he fired a tiny sliver of circuitry into the clothing covering Point's right shoulder. "My anti personnel weaponry is limited, so I suggest we avoid confrontations."
[/ QUOTE ]
"I don't like fair fights either," said Point Blank. "All the criminal groups seemed to join forces, so there is no single group to blame. We're resisting everyone. Arachnos and the Council are constantly around. Malta patrols with Titans regularly. The Circle of Thorns and the Banished Pantheon are huge threats. Then the gangs are just everywhere and strong. Anyway, activity around here has been pretty minimal lately. We should be alright. Still..."
He activated a small drone that looked like a half of a metal basketball on top with antennae on the bottom hovering behind him, following obediantly. It produced a forcefield around them that was only visible when it moved, distorting the light around the edges.
Long before they could reach the bastion they travelled underground. Sewers connected to caves and back to tunnels. The high tech soldier seemed to have the path committed to memory. Finally they arrived at the door to the Bastion. Point Blank banged on the thick metal door to the base. A metallic echo rang through the tunnels.
Point Blank spoke loudly to the black sliding door, "It's me. I've got company."
A slat snapped open, revealing to conspiratory eyes shifting from man to robot.
Point removed his helmet to show his face, "Everything is okay," he reassured.
The slat snapped shut in response. After a few seconds of silence, a wide green beam hummed to life. It scanned them from head to toe and then shut off.
He turned to M-113, "If you can see in other spectrums you already know there are a dozen other scanners at least. The Bastion may rely on how well it is hidden, but it is very well defended."
The door slid open heavily. Flagstone still appeared cautious, but was more relaxed than during the last entrance.
"We've got quite a few new metas inside," Flagstone said gruffly, "Most just came barging in like it was their [censored]ing birthday party."
"You do know how to make people feel welcome," Point said.
The door closed behind them.
Point talked to M-113 as he led him through the base, "This is the biggest base of operations any of us know of. A lot of people here. One of them should have the security clearance you are looking for. You can talk to Blood Wolffe. He knows almost everyone."
((Sorry man, this 1+1=11 stuff always causes me to poke and prod. 
But feel free to PM me next time. If I know it (no guarantee), I'll be sure to inform ya.
And about Portal Corporation, I see you noticed things are not what they seem...well, let's just say they're a wee bit more shady than what they let on. ))
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"You misunderstand." Danger gave answer, "We don't have the capability to 'save' anything here. Only you guys can do that. I know neither of us trusts the other right now...although I'll admit, that might be just from our side..."
Groul gave a nod to this. He'd noticed the discrepancy as well - from their point of view, they simply couldn't believe Target's story; Bladewing had more than ensured this earlier, and the aggressive nature of the argument's human side (while it hadn't been pivotal) had certainly suggested support.
"...but you'll just have to take it on faith," the Specialist went on without pause, "that your current choice isn't the right one. It's the smart one, yes - and it probably looks right at the present time. But once it's all said and done, you're going to see there was a right choice. And you're going to wish with all you've got that you'd looked for it earlier. No, I'm afraid there isn't a single, generalized answer to everything."
"I gotta say," Danger's tiny visage became a smirk most sinister, "it'd be really cool if there was. Stuff would be so easy. But that's why life's hard, not fair. Whether what you're telling us is true or not, only you know what really happened. Ergo, you'll have to figure it out on your own. We've still got our own mistakes to undo."
"Starting with this displacement." Groul reminded his compatriot, trying to alter the course of the conversation.
"Right." the Specialist agreed, "I think I know how you managed to jump to your conclusion. Not sure where you got it from, but Groul here didn't mean human hands and wrong hands are one and the same. Considering your pal exploding star systems for fun, I'm still not sure though. He meant your enemies, these 'villains' - and I'll admit, it doesn't sound like they'd think twice about wrecking their own world if it means taking you guys out. Especially if they don't know they would."
"Our warning labels are just about nonexistent." Groul elaborated, "If it starts a nuclear burn, to us that's obvious. Function dictates form. But if someone doesn't know the function, there isn't any way they could know what to watch out for."
"Exactly." the Specialist agreed, "Has nothing to do with intelligence. Just know-how. Like talking to planets. Anyone can do it, but you need to know how. Okay, I got off-topic there. Back to the point: your enemies finding the Rover will likely cause them to try and grab it. Its nature is pretty obvious. Doesn't mean they'll succeed, but if a fight starts, it's going to slow down repairs, and chances go up something majorly bad might happen..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
Bladewing stuck his head out of the portal, glaring at the specialist.
"When I blew up that solar system, you must have missed the "I was driven to temporary insanity" part, and I said it was a good day, mostly because the solar system was barren except for a planet full of fortresses belonging to the guys who drove me temporarily insane, and for that they got their just desserts."
Walking out of the portal, Bladewing levitated several tables and chairs out of the way to make room for the crates that hovered through the portal a moment later.
"Hey Wolffe, where do you want the workshop materials, because ive got enough to turn this base into a much more formidibal structure."
Glancing around he saw Energon and Target lounging to the side.
"Hey guys! I was watching your battle from my monitor room, but left before the end, looks like you didn't do so hot."
Tapping the back of his hand, Bladewing channeled healing energy into Target, mending his injuries and restoring his vitality.
"You, dear sir, are a legend. "- nelly. "PIE DOESN'T HAVE TENTACLES!"
Bladewing Draconian lvl 30 KAT/SR scrapper
DarkNinjutsu lvl 50 DM/REG scrapper
Dajoji Hino lvl 50 elm/ela scrapper
Bloody Byakko lvl 20 claws/sr scrapper
"Really now chap, I mean honestly?" The Archon asked as he threw a flashbang at his own feet and disappeared.
"You'll just have to try a lot harder than that!" He yelled as he came down from a building behind Cry, flying through the air.
"Holy [censored]." One of the Arachnos gasped, looking up.
"Eagle's Claw."
It was really an incredible sight. Arms held up in an attack stance, leg extended, soaring through the air. From Cry's perspective, the titan of a man was eclipsing the sun as he flew down, like some kind of incredible Krav Maga Angel. He came down like a ton of bricks and as his kick connected with the psychic shield, that's definitely exactly what it sounded like. There was no doubt about it - the shield would have HAD to have felt that kind of kick.
Of course, as Frenzk was showing his absolute martial prowess, all of his Mech Men weren't just standing around gawking. They continued to blast away at the Arachnos troops, and the Spiders would find that the Mechanized monstrosities were every bit as tough as they were, especially the Zenith Warcries.
Inky blackness filled the detention bubble, making visual contact via a human's normal spectrum next to impossible. Thankfully, Jake had other means. Upon seeing the stealthed foe, the seven of them automatically changed their vision from normal to infrared. The cold of the negative energy clearly outlined the natural warmth of Acanous.
Although, such trivial matters didn't do much in the long run. The point still remained. If Acanous could get away from the literal tidal wave of plasma and laser fire, than he would survive. If not, the blast would most likely destroy everything within a ten yard radius, including Jake's robots.
If this was the case, than Jake would simply resummon his bots and wait the thirty seconds for their AI programming to be transmitted to the new bots.
If not, than he would simply chuckle and turn his attention to other matters.
Either way, it would all happen as soon as the Protector Bots released their barrier.
And that time had come.
The bubble slowly faded away, and Jake's bots fired their awesome attack.
Cry's face went into pain as the bubble held, his eyes aglow with pink energy sustaining the bubble. The bubble had nearly ripped, but the energy feeding it kept it from tearing and allowed it to bend. Still the kinetic run through of the kick was enough to send the ball slamming to the ground.
Cry turned around inside the bubble looking at the Archon. "Don't be stupid, your death is inevitable." The ground started to crunch and and a smile formed on the face of Cry, and then black blood trickled from his nose. "I said your death was inevitable."
Cry put forward his hands and flew off the ground at a amazing speed catching the Archon in air in a grip hold of psychic hands much like the guardian below. Cry twirled around the hands following and let go sending the Archon below to a cloud of dust.
Caleb walked through the portal carrying two very large, ver heavy crates. He set the crates on the ground and nodded to the spectral Arran.
"We got some new play things for you and Dee, try not to break them," Caleb said with a shrug as he set one of the large crates onto one of the tables, which gave a stressed groan.
Arran shrugged as he motioned at the crates, levitating them out of Bladewings control and toward the open door, "I'll take those from here my dark saurian friend."
Caleb flopped down in a seat at the table adjacent to the two otherworlders, "I see you've already started fitting in. From the looks on Target and E's faces you've already been aquainted. No worries, we don't harm people in Bastion unless provoked."
Arran was staring at the runes Blade had placed on Caleb's body. He waved his insubstantial hands through the air and the martial artist's limiter suit appeared with a flash, "I think you'll be more comfortable in this."
He tossed the suit across to the scrapper. The suit moved like quicksilver over the scrapper's body, canceling the effects of his immense amount of chakra and erasing the runes. "Thanks Ar. How's Marty? He hurt anyone?"
"No Dee and I got in within enough time to save everyone the trouble of fighting him. He should be in a rejuvination tank now," The ghost said as he levitated in small circles above the table at which Energon and Target sat.
Caleb popped his knuckles and went to make a cup of coffee, "The bottle of pills he took is laying on the floor over there. Analyse it if you can."
Arran waved an arm and the bottle joined the levitating crates.
I do not know my reasons for posting, but post I must. ~~Build
"We can't stop here, this is bat country."
--Johnny Depp
"I ain't bi-curious, I'm a man. Why do you think I'm wearing this tight spandex and got all these muscles?" Meatwad
((occ: will take on BS npc, though I plan to kill him off.))
Black Scorpion cursed that the Skyraiders were not able to fulfill the job, though now he understood Cry didn't like surprises and would over judge situations that could clearly come to his advantage in the future. "Is the base clear at least commander?"
The Bane Spider Excuetioner looked up and nodded no. "Cry is gone, but it seems one of our mercaneries acted in retalition. Cry has deemed him a non-combatant so files have been dropped from him."
"Strange, Cry seems to like this fellow, but we will do our best on our side to file charges of insubordination. What hostiles are left?"
"I don't know how to say this but there are five heroes within the building heading in this direction and several rouge Mu and Fortuntas." The Bane Spider had just got this information as the physically charged heroes came through the first barrier to the lab of Black Scorpion.
"Your dead Cry, good as dead! Call for help!" The room grew with frenzy as the prepared for the heroes arrival.
"Can't the communications are jammed, we can only see outside and recieve info I can't send it!" The Bane Spider brought up his mace and charged it.
Black Scorpion cursed as his armor powered up, the new modifications to it since the war were more of a disability due to the damages done to his body during Lord Recluse's siege on Paragon. His legs were now tank treads and he was more armored then ever before.
"Bring it on Cry, send your goons to take me on."
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((occ: yeah Cry is playing godzilla with the landscape, he is still pent up about today's eariler struggle and needs to let his rage out. no post just conintue on and anyone who wants to engage do so.))