Agent Nataan growled an obscenity into his ventilator as he perceived the clack of the doors. His associates were already deeper within the campus building, performing the deed they'd been hired to do.
This meant that whoever would be stepping through that door was either a hero or someone who really didn't know better than to waltz into a heist on Portal Corporation - like Crey and some other of their competitors were so extremely fond of doing.
"I may need backup." the Osh'kan mercenary rasped into the organic headset woven within his hood, "We have company."
I was too bad, really. Any way this went, it'd cut into their time - and with that, their profit. One of these days, Nataan made a mental note, he would have to puzzle out how to conduct a proper raid into Paragon City without suffering these sort of delays. After all, this mission was such a simple one: invade Portal Court, get to the lab where Portal Corp.'s scientists were working on their newest pan-dimensional wonder-widget, and make sure it ended up as unoperational as could be.
Then again, it probably wouldnt have been quite the same any other way. Especially not on Casual Friday...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
"What do ya mean? I'm just here for a ride home." Commander Cynic said, stepping over *and on* unconcious Longbow soldiers on the ground, ignoring the lush interior. "Really, I'd hate to have to actually go through any official proceedings to use these portals. Mind if I just nip on through while you're wrecking the place?"
The Commander didn't have any drones behind him, and the crystal that was normally set at the head of his staff was missing. He had probably just finished a job for whoever it was he worked for and was trying to get back to wherever he lived.
"I, on the other hand, might have a few objections," said a hero, perched on top of the portal. Spikes suddenly erupted from his large frame, showering the room.
He was a large man, fully covered in black plated armor. His helmet's red visor had an angry appearance that betrayed the mirthfilled voice that issued from the helmet. A large V spiked out from its top. On his back was a black cape torn to shreds from far too many spike bursts.
Pokin' Prodder chuckled. "You guys are really predictable. All I had to do was sit around for the last ten minutes or so and boom, two of you waltz in at once!"
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
Target Lad watched the unfolding drama, hanging upside-down amidst the shadows of the thick pipes that made up the majority of the ceiling in the portal room. Bloody wonderful. Plant-Man th' Wonder Weed, ET-phone-home, an' Captain Heroic Cliche. The little archer dropped, somersaulting and coming to a hovering stop with an arrow nocked and drawn, aimed at the center of Cynic's chest. Worst... homework... assignment... ever. he griped to himself. And of course there's some other bloke here so that my grade will get all mucked up... He sighed. "Aye, an' he's no' alone..." he grumbled, adding "Much as I wish I was..." in a muttered undertone.
The dark-haired young archer- no more than twelve or thirteen years old- didn't cut a particularly impressive figure in his tatty white t-shirt (with a large bullseye on the front of it), blue jeans and sneakers- his only concession to superhero-ing was a targetting reticle over one eye... but the pointy death he had pointing squarely at Cynic's sternum tended to speak for itself.
Mind you, some unacknowledged dramatic instinct had caused him to come to a stop right at the center of the roaring portal, an abruptly dangerous-seeming silhouette against the blue fire caged in the great steel ring... a decision that Target Lad was starting to wonder about as sounds, just on the edge of consciousness, seemed to be emanating from the portal. ... a'right, exactly where is this thing set for..? he wondered nervously as he kept the two supervillains covered.
"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"
Cynic, who had moved to the side to dodge an incoming spine, also dodged the incoming arrow completely by coincidence.
"Good news. I'm off duty." He said coldly, raising his Night staff. What was the idiot planning to do? Without a faith crystal, the weapon was useless.
"Bad news. I'm off duty."
Target Lad suddenly got an explosive bolt in the face as Cynic fired it from his Night staff at nearly point-blank range. One had to remember that faith crystals and the drones Cynic usually employed were property of the S.A.D.A.S.S.E.S. When not working for them, Cynic fit most neatly into the 'blaster' category of people, and the PRIMARY functions of his nightstaff mimicked that of an archer's weapon of choice well when not using its secondary faith crystal based attributes.
Whether the explosive bolt hit Target Lad or not, he'd still have to be careful of the portal behind him-It wasn't set for any destination, it was just a chaotic twirl of nether. Anything that went into it would be ripped to shreds instantly.
Nataan's eyes narrowed in disgust at what he believed to be an obvious lie. Still, the sudden appearance of not one, but three heroes was enough to make him hesitate.
A savage rasp retched through the chamber as a multitude of spines speared into his suit of armor, the Osh'kan taken aback by the sudden assault. Still, the spines weren't enough to take him down alone, the organic outfit of course doing its fair share to resist penetration. In addition, the toxin within Prodder's projectiles didn't seem to have any effect on the guy.
"Pathetic." Nataan growled at nobody in particular, letting the plants under his dominion go to work. Practically the whole room writhed with sudden, unreal life once more as the merc threw his hands toward the portal, a cloud of seeds erupting from a few plants gathered about his feet.
Aimed upward and ahead, the cone would probably catch both Target Lad and Pokin' Prodder in its grasp, and the 'seeds of confusion' (as people around here liked to call them) would work their vile effect on whatever they latched onto, be it organic or technological.
Cynic, though just outside said cone, wasn't left out of the equation, the writhing vines about making a beeline for the man along the floor with amazing speed, intending to hold the Commander fast within their thorny grip...
--------------------
Not far away, the door to a certain maintenance supply closet opened just a crack. From the darkness within peered an invisible eye.
"We're in business." whispered a hushed male voice, and then the door opened fully, allowing seven unseen figures passage into the hallway. Wreathed in deflector fields that bent away most of the electromagnetic spectrum, the seven moved with all the silence that someone trailed by six standard robotic henchmen could produce.
In other words, none.
Still, with the ruckus from the nearby portal chamber, chances were good that things would go according to plan. Now all he had to do was get to the research lab...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
A door along the hallway that the seven invisible figures were creeping was suddenly blown out across the hallway, crashing into the opposite wall and falling atop the hapless Longbow soldier who had done the damage.
"Why're you runnin'?" shouted a gruff voice from inside the room the Longbow had come from. "We just got started!"
Stalking out of the room came a relative giant of a man, his dead grey skin clad in nothing but tattered pants, boots, and a fairly large and solid looking shoulder guard, leaving his chest bare to reveal the rib-like tattoo he had on his chest. The Longbow officer groaned as the big man stomped hard on the door, pressing the wounded woman into the floor.
"Stupid candycanes," grunted the brute as he reached under the door and yanked the officer out by her cape. He dangled her in the air for a few seconds before spitting on her helmet, the red armor sizzling slightly as the spittle burned away at it.
Irritably chucking the officer down the hall, coincidentally directly towards the cloaked drones, the brute brought a hand up to his ear and pressed a finger to the little communicator tucked behind it.
"Hold yer horses, Nataan," grunted Brutish Ghoul. "Just finished up with the last o' the guards upstairs. Keep yer [censored] alive and I'll be down in a minute."
Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.
Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.
NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.
Pokin' Prodder leapt from the portal, above the reach of the vines. He came down behind the strange villain, spinning quickly with a sharp spine reaching from each arm to cut a gash at his back.
The large man's focus made the spores seem to do little harm to him, though the steady eruption of spines from his body had a small chance to go astray.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
"Woa there," Cynic grunted, backflipping with acrobatic grace away from the vines and onto the top of the entrance platform above. "Looks like we'll need some industrial strength weed-killer."
Aiming his Night Staff at the thickest clump of vines, Cynic shot a thermal blast of energy at it, trying to set the stuff aflame and causing a mini forest fire. Or, at least, just trying to blow that clump into purgatory.
Drechi stared the man before him down.
"You've been at this...how long?"
The man held up seven fingers.
"And you think you are worthy enough to act in my capacity as a chemical and biological warfare specialist in support of a fellow Scorpion."
A grim nod.
"I see here that they say you're one of the best. But you have a psychotic streak a mile wide." Drechi frowned. "Your friendly casualties are abysmal. Is that what got you kicked out of your old job?"
The man winced visibly, a rasping breath his only answer.
"Well. It looks like you haven't killed any of your fellow...What were they, Horsemen? Not yet, anyway. And your track record with them is certainly impressive, to say the least. And I suppose I can't worry about it with Nataan, since your pitiful human diseases and chemicals could never harm one of us. Do take these. Use them if you must. I am sending ahead to let them know you'll be in attendance while I negotiate my next contract, which I assure you is rather larger than anything you'll ever do."
The man was silent.
"Be ready for insertion in one hour."
---
Suddenly, a ceiling tile fell to the floor.
"Hrhrhrhrhrhrh." A gleeful yet muted exclamation could scarcely be heard before the Chemical Charge attached to the tile exploded in a massive gout of choking death, filling the room with concentrated Ammonia.
A blur of green could be seen falling to the ground following the blast. Nataan and the others who could ever hope to see through the cloud of Ammonia would clearly see a man in a large and bulky NBC suit. Turning to Nataan, he pumped his fist in earnest in an attempt to identify himself as a fellow operator. Following up on his 'statement,' the incomprehensible mercenary known only as Pestilence turned a chemical sprayer towards Pokin' Prodder and Cynic. Tightening the nozzle to a crushing stream of 1500psi, he fired a spray of Halogens that immediately combusted upon contact with the ammonia, turning the area he was facing into an explosive nightmare.
Mister Hysteria was running scared. As usual.
He had heard Nataans request for back up. That meant there were heroes in the building. That also meant it was time to get the hell out. The last time Hysteria faced a super hero he woke up in the Zig infirmary with his jaw wired shut.
Agent Nataan had indentured him to retrieve some documents from the safe of one Doctor Ferdinand. With his mind control powers, Hysteria had no trouble convincing the doctor to open the safe and hand them over. Everything was going great.
Then Nataan said, I may need back up.
Then there was shouting. And the unmistakable sounds of explosions.
That was all Mister Hysteria needed to hear. It was time to run.
Only the puny, psychic villain didnt know where to run. He was lost. His folded purple boots scampered up and down what looked like the same hallway for the last minute or so. If he had stopped to think he would have read the minds of the guards that he rendered unconscious to figure out his whereabouts. But, as is all too common in Mister Hysterias life he was panicked.
He finally stopped to get his bearings. He panted hard and doubled over.
Oh, jeez, he whined to himself, I need a real job.
((I hate to bring this up so late, DoB, but Target Lad never actually fired >.>
Eh, I'll go with it))
Target Lad caught the blast full in the chest, a brilliant flare knocking him sideways as his own energies reacted violently with the burst of power that Cynic had hurled at him. He clutched at the edge of the portal, getting flung sideways by the spinning ring, well out of the way of the vines and seeds. Losing his grip, he spun through the air, finally managing to slow himself just before he hit the wall, flipping around so he 'landed' feet-first.
The little archer 'crouched' on the wall for a moment, wheezing, before he managed to reorient himself. Then his eyes sparked with anger and his 'targeted precognition' flared. He pulled out a fresh arrow with a strange, blunt head... and, with a snap and a muttering growl, the talsorian arrowhead sprang to life. Electrical power roared around it, and Target Lad fired, a streak of green fire, following it with an explosive arrowhead, then a fistful of arrows bracketing the entire area where Cynic was standing.
Not satisfied, Target Lad launched himself after the arrows, flying hard and his fists crackling with electricity, a triphammer blow aimed for the point of Cynic's chin.
"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"
"Karsis!" the Osh'kan mercenary swore chafingly, then growled something about apparently needing more accuracy. Cynic's straregem meanwhile succeeded, frying the terrestrial flora to a crisp, but that didn't stop Nataan from keeping an eye on Pokin' Prodder as he vaulted over the mercenary, intercepting the hero's makeshift blades with one of his own - a frigid sword of solid ice.
Frostvine Agent Nataan may have been more of a support specialist than a Neutron or Neutrino Agent, but he was certainly no pushover when it came to direct combat, wielding his icy weapon with masterful skill. But bladesman or not, a sword didn't do much good against a hail of projectiles such as Prodder's spine eruptions, more and more filling the Frostvine Agent with each pulsation. He needed to do something, and do it quickly.
Then the ceiling panel dropped.
Nataan joined the grotesque chuckle from above, trying to strike back at Prodder with his ice sword as the ammonia spread, then commanded patches of roots to spring up around the feet of all opponents, even Target Lad hanging like a fly upon the wall. He didn't expect the roots to actually immobilize any of them, but at the very least they'd prevent flight while Pestilence worked his magic...
--------------------
The hapless human projectile vanished for a moment as he entered the drone's deflector field, emerging a few moments later on the floor, where the machine had gently placed the officer before moving again.
Yeesh, if I'd known things'd turn out this rough...ah, nevermind, done is done.
The seven remained silent as Ghoul took off in the other direction, an explosion sounding from below in the same way.
Oh, Pestilence is here. Oh...Pestilence is here...well, at least it's not War. The building should remain standing.
With Ghoul gone again, the seven got to moving once more, barreling down the hallway toward the lab of one Dr. Ferdinand. On the way of course they ran into a certain hysteric Mister Hysteria.
Literally.
The battle drone on the far inside of a corner rounding moved with too much speed to stop as it came around the bend, the psychic villain standing right there, panting hard and doubled over. The machine collided with him like a runaway train, even though it attempted to slow down beforehand.
More than likely, the mechanoid would bowl over the man and zip in another direction right after, but whatever happened he'd still catch a minute glimpse in the short time he stood within the drone's deflector field...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
Cynic, having the advantage of higher ground on the entrance platform to the portal room, just leapt backwards to watch the enflamed gas melt through the guardrail and most of the floor.
No, leapt was the wrong word. He had begun to take the leap back, but then he'd been hit by a stunning arrow to the head. With Precognitive targeting, there was no way possible Target Lad could have missed. Cynic was able to stand the shock of the stunning blow due to his acrobatic training, and avoided being stunned. The rest of Target Lad's arrows flew too high, impacting the reinforced ceiling/wall.
Of course, Target Lad himself was not an arrow. A minor change in position on Cynic's part wasn't going to stop the other blaster from hitting him with his electrical assault.
Target Lad caught sight of the Demented man holding his Night staff like a baseball bat.
"Anticipation." He grunted, swinging at the blaster right as he came into melee range, overloading the energy charge in his staff to create a total focus of pure energy that would conduct itself into Target Lad's body if it hit. Nataan's immobilizing weeds took a stranglehold on Cynic's combat boots, but the Commander was too safe from the spreading ammonia at his current position.
Prodder grunted as the sword struck true, but no sooner had it retracted than the wound began to seal itself. The hero chuckled. "You're gonna have to try harder than that."
It was just then that Pestilence's spray came surging towards him and carried the hero away. He would have been smashed into the wall if it hadn't hit him a little lower, instead taking Prodder's legs out from under him. The explosion finished his flight however, and he soon found himself kissing drywall... Or whatever covered Portal Corp.
He grunted, his body smoking a little, and pushed himself to his feet. "You guys take me too seriously," he muttered, stretching back. As he did, his many wounds sealed themselves rapidly in a single instant.
Prodder's body recovered in spines. He charged back toward Nataan, swinging an arm out wide and sending an entire cone of the nasty things out ahead of him. As soon as he closed the distance, the hero intended to tackle the mercenary to the ground and let one quick eruption finish the job.
------------------
As Hysteria went into... hysterics... a man stepped forward from the shadows. "Oh good, I was looking for those," said a man in full dark orange and grey armor. His helmet obscured all ability to identify him, but an Omega sign showed plain on his chest. The spikes on his shoulders, boots, and gloves shone wickedly and his cape flapped behind him as he reached over to take the documents from the other villain's hand.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
A portal opened nearby, inside of P.C. of course, but it was nearby. Anyway, Shinji and Ry emerged from the portal eyeing the combat going on. How they knew to go exactly to Portal Corp for some action, I don't even know myself, but I just know they pulled it off, and now they're there.
"What should we do?" Shinji asked his younger brother.
"No idea, but I want to get in on this, badly." Ry replied.
"Well let's just wait and see what happens."
Pestilence shook the chemical sprayer above his head in a sort of celebratory dance at his assault before zeroing back in on Pokin' Prodder. Swapping out canisters with a cachunk, Pestilence narrowed the nozzle forward, effectively turning the chemical sprayer into a Chemical Jet Cutter which was capable of literally sawing through kevlar body armor. This alone would have been terrifying, but the fact that the new barrel Pestilence had just equipped himself with was Chloropicrin, a horrific, oily liquid that was easily capable of, upon inhalation, causing vomiting, bronchitis, and even fatal lung injuries. As Pestilence fired a jet of the stuff at a wicked 2000psi at Pokin Prodder, he swept the stream slowly around, causing a huge eruption of gasses at the impact point against the back wall of the room.
Cackling manically, Pestilence fired until the canister was completely dry before switching his armament to Trifluoromethanesulfonic acid, which was around 1,000 times as strong as pure Sulfuric acid, and loosening the nozzle on his sprayer, hosing the fine mist across the entire room.
The blue and purple clad psychic was awestruck by the orange and grey menace that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. He trembled visibly and he clutched the turquoise envelope tighter against his chest.
Why didn't I see him coming? Mister Hysteria thought to himself.
He was about to launch a mental blast at his new foe when another thought occurred to him.
Oh, crap! What if hes a robot? Why do I always have to fight the robots? I hate robots!
The Omega symbol loomed closer as the armored one leaned in for the documents. Hysteria dared not retaliate and held them outwards. The metal hand had just touched them when a battle drone barreled around the corner and slammed into the craven dominator. Hysteria was sent head over heels in a flip and the documents flew the other direction down the hall. As he painfully impacted on the cold tile, Hysteria saw them land far from his reach.
I really do hate robots.
The air was thick, swollen like the ripe skin of some vast, decaying peach. Minute by minute it grew thicker, incomprehensible and terrifying, until the air was distended as the abdomen of a spider, or the slick skin of a pregnant mother. Mutely, the world tore with sick, carnal pleasure, an egregiously sexual intrusion. Something spilled from the breach, pale emanations of psychic detritus wafting after it like amniotic fluid.
For long moments, Macrofracture crouched panting, for the moment alone never alone in one of the vast corridors of the Portal Corps campus. Behind him, the rift that had transported birthed him closed wetly. Still, the air skittered, and buzzed, and droned, as Macrofracture's broken mind asserted itself upon the surroundings, gouging tears in the fabric of the world, letting a sickly pink light leak through.
Slowly, he stood, a figure barely five feet six, his slight frame of that sort that belonged behind a desk never again never again. Yet, he glowed with menacing, mad power, and vast, unthinkable things roiled beneath the surface of him, frantic and cruel as children, hungry as children. He was wrapped in a patchwork of cloth and tights and chains, not naked, but he nevertheless gave the strange impression of nakedness, of visceral violations too fleeting to rationalize.
He did not know why he was here we know we always know. Far off, there was the sound of pain, and the chatter of alone and singular people, and a promise of peace sustenance. He they set off at a trot, his hands opening and closing sporadically, like the needful face of some fleshly flower.
Ghoul barreled down various corridors, skidding through turns and leaving shoulder sized indents in walls in his haste to get to the fight. The big brute was grinning broadly to himself in anticipation as he ran through a slight widening of the corridor, not even noticing Shinji and Ry as he dashed past.
Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.
Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.
NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.
Doctor con Vulse leapt forward, snatching up the documents and landing at the other hand of the hall. "A pleasure doing business with you," he said, quickly thumbing through them. He nodded, satisfied, and leapt again toward the exit elevators.
His ride would be waiting.
----------------
Pokin' quickly reversed his movement as Pestilence moved to fire again, groaning in frustration. He continually hopped around the room, managing to avoid the incredibly high pressure stream. As the walls dented along behind him, he realized the guy with the ice sword would have to wait.
As Pestilence moved to switch canisters, Prodder threw a trio of spines directly for the distracted chem-fiend's chest.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
"Should we?" Ry said to Shinji as Ghoul blew past them.
"Not yet. Let's just follow him."
"Okay."
They headed off behind Ghoul, hoping to find something good.
"Excellent work, Julia." An observing researcher commented after a young girl in a simple T-shirt and jeans corrently answered a question regarding the basic function of a portal. "I have to admit, I'm impressed. That was a tough one even for our interns."
The girl smiled and flicked a lock of hair out of her eyes. "It was nothing." She stated, putting her hands in her pockets afterwards. "Portals really aren't all that difficult to-"
A loud siren interrupted her mid-sentence, indicating that a Portal Corporation building had just been assaulted.
"Perfect." She muttered, although the researcher seemed ecstatic.
"Oh, what perfect timing! Now we get the treat to see the great Veta in action, right, class?"
The students around her had mixed responses. Some genuinely seemed to be intrigued at the concept of watching her work her magic. Others seemed bored with the entire situation. Some only snickered. But no matter what the response, the general sound the group produced was an incomprehensible murmur. The researcher's eyes lost some of their brightness. But only some.
"Well well, come on now! No time to waste! Portal Corp.'s safety is at stake."
-----
A few minutes later, a girl in a pure white tech-armor suit entered the door, careful to step around the fallen Longbow. "Alright," She yelled, glancing around the room at those she would be facing. "Who the Hell interrupted the most important field trip of the year?"
Target Lad shifted his flying charge's angle of attack, bringing both hands to bear as he slung his bow over one shoulder... and grabbed the staff.
The air turned purple for a minute as actinic sparks flared and burned, crisping the vines clinging to Cynic's legs and setting further pseudo-plants afire. Then, with a crack of thunder, the conflicting energies simply exploded, hurling Target Lad backwards. The little archer somersaulted in midair, then righted himself and lunged forwards again... coming up short as a blast of acid hissed past him, some bursting into flame as it hit the smouldering vines.
He flung a web of electrical energy at Cynic, hoping to stall him for a moment, then spun around. "What's wrong wit' ye, y'daft spine-tossing twit?" he roared, his voice cracking up an octave and a half on the word 'spine'. "Can't ye keep one idjit bus... ah." he paused as he registered the third (fifth?) combatant in the portal room.
The little archer shrugged and lobbed an impervium-headed arrow at Pestilence, taking careful aim at his high-pressure hoses. If the shot hit, the results should be... entertaining. Then he returned his attention to Cynic. With a grimace, he pulled out another stunning arrow... fired... another... fired... until it sounded like hail on armour plate as stunners of all sorts- plain-and-garden straight physical shockers, taser arrowheads, neurosynaptic disruptors, even a couple that relied on the shock of shoving the target partially out of phase for a split second- rained down on Cynic and everything around him.
"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"
It is a concept old as time itself. What began as such a tiny, insignificant amalgamation of the random burst forth to blossom into...well, yet another amalgamation of the random. Only today, it's really, really, really incomprehensibly huge - at least relatively speaking. Still, some say the element of the miniscule remains unchanged, and that the smallest of happenings still set in motion the largest of consequences.
"Casual Friday my foot!"
Portal Corporation
Peregrine Island, Paragon City
Casual Friday was generally not one of them.
"Mh." grunted the white-coated researcher underneath the same counter, absent-mindedly nursing his morning coffee as another Longbow Rifleman arced over their cover and against the wall. Gruff shouts bellowed through the room, followed by another salvo tact of semi-automatic thunder, "Mhm. "
Especially in Paragon City.
"Relax, kid." the bald, bespectacled researcher sighed to his new lab assistant, a young, spindly thing straight from some university overseas, "Just part of life here. You'll get used to it."
In Paragon City, the extraordinary had become daily routine.
"What are you talking about?" the raven-haired youngling shot back with a whisper teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He still held his shuddering hands folded over his head, gazing to his senior through wide eyes, "This happens often here?!"
Especially on Fridays.
"More or less." the researcher shrugged, another grenade shaking the room as he reached atop the counter for a spoonful of sugar from the cup the night guard had left behind, "Don't worry, it's the same deal every time. Villain or more bust in, make a big ruckus, steal something or someone...then the heroes come, either before or after they bolt, but it ends up back to normal every time. Yeah, at first it's scary, then it gets fun to watch, but after a while you don't even notice anymore. Say, you see any cream up there?"
Fridays tended to be the busiest, what with many a villain having plans to kick back the weekend and pulling just one more job beforehand.
A sensitive ear could've heard a jaw drop right about now. Still, the assistant obliged, if more out of wanting to know just who or what the Longbow soldiers fought there than finding cream for his employer's coffee. What he saw took his breath away. Literally.
After all, even in Paragon City, money didn't grow on trees...not just yet, anyway.
In a cloud of amber spores that covered most of the room by now stood the form of the attacker. The man had no time to properly muster the humanoid silhouette before the floral mist sent him to dreamland, but he did get a short glance of the deep-green suit of clearly organic armor worn by the intruder just shy of two meters in stature.
So villains still had to find other ways to get paid.
A dull thud sounded through the room as the assistant hit the floor, and the intruder spared him but a bored glance of his large, opaque eyes, rimmed by a visage of scaly skin covered halfway by a ventilator. A hood and a few spikes across the biological suit here and there completed the ensemble of the extraterrestrial mercenary, the Osh'kan having need for nothing more.
Usually by performing very villainous deeds.
Well, save for the thorny vines and other assorted flora that snaked their way across virtually the entire reception area. Longbow stood, sat, and lay in their wrath, most unconscious, a few still struggling, but all more or less out of commission. It wouldn't be long before their uniforms' incorporated mediporters whisked them away to the hospital. Not that the mercenary cared.
Such as theft.
"Give it up already." he rasped through his ventilator at a writhing Nullifier with disconent, "You've lost. Be glad I'm being paid extra for every life I do not take."
Or sabotage.
The researcher beneath the counter let out a sigh while his hand pulled the newly found cream down to him. There the guy went monologueing again. Always the same. Just another normal day in Paragon City.
Of course, this also meant the heroes of Paragon City tended to be a little faster on Fridays as well.
And just as always, the soft clack of the front door being opened signified the arrival of a hero...or two, or three, or more. Idly stirring his coffee, the researcher wondered if the intruder had been smart enough to bring backup.
Which made Casual Friday really just another Friday in Paragon City...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters