Doctor con Vulse stood at the edge of the field of death, shaking his head. Suddenly he heard the voice of his invisible nuisance and his eyes narrowed. The Doctor leapt through the storm, accepting the stinging hits as he went, aiming to tackle the man on the spot in his distraction.
-----------------
Prodder began to turn as Nataan spoke, a lucky thing since it gave him the chance to see the sword swing down for its deadly strike. The large man tightened up into a ball and pushed with all the strength in his legs, moving in under the arc of the blade to tackle the freezing fiend.
As soon as he got a firm hold, preferably around the waist, Prodder intended to launch one large burst of spikes and see just how tough the villain really was.
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
The bloody mist faded in 3 seconds. Cynic, untouched by his own weapon, leapt through the remains of the storm while it lasted, across the hallway and out the door, trying to kick Julia in the stomach with an acrobatic jump kick. He also had his staff sweeping in an arc vertically over his head, aimed at Julia's skull with a charge of high magnitude stunning energy coursing through it. All without touching the floor.
"This was my NICE helmet!" She thought she heard the demented blaster hiss.
[ QUOTE ]
Doctor con Vulse stood at the edge of the field of death, shaking his head. Suddenly he heard the voice of his invisible nuisance and his eyes narrowed. The Doctor leapt through the storm, excepting the stinging hits as he went, aiming to tackle the man on the spot in his distraction.
[/ QUOTE ]
The Doctor was probably pleased to see the field of death melt away right before he entered it.
Prodder's attempt on Nataan's life would be cut tragically short by Pestilence rapidly drawing his sidearm, a Colt M1911A1 Officer's ACP with an extended and double-stacked 11+1 magazine.
As soon as the tips of Prodder's spines surfaced, they were suddenly shot to pieces by the sudden barrage of surprisingly accurate one-handed fire that Pestilence was pumping out. In addition to this, the Chemfiend pulled the pin on an advanced Decay Grenade and kicked it Prodder's way, the biological agent quickly attempting to feast on the Scrapper.
Nataan was strangely unaffected for reason's he'd know - The case of the charge was slick and pulsating, and a small spray of precipitation followed the kicked munition.
This was NOT a grenade that Pestilence could make himself!
((Erm, Sovs I could kinda understand that for the ones coming out his back, but I don't see how that's working for spines that are striking a body pressed up against another one.))
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
((? I don't follow. He's shooting at you as you lunge upward. But it's too late to edit, so I'll concede that he was just shooting spines off his back if the grenade still comes into play.))
Mister Hysteria continued to sift through the mind of Macrofracture, easily uprooting the memories of this tiny man.
Unfortunately for Hysteria, there was more than one mind sharing this human's brain. The psychic villain felt an alien presence convalesce and form around his intruding probe. It called to him in an unspeakable language and echoed painfully inside his skull.
"Nuaah!" was the most eloquent statement he could make as the noise grew louder.
His head pounded as the foreign force pushed its way into his mind. The tiny psychic could not run nor could he break the psionic link. He fell to his knees, numbed and and stupified. He barely realized that Macrofracture was free and moving again.
((So... no-one's going to react to the Hydra Men that have started stomping around in the portal room..?))
"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"
((In a way, I already did. 
But no, Nataan wouldn't care about Hydra.))
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
OOC:
Cham, employing living toxic goo men against a chemical disaster man and a bio-organic frostvine alien is not going to work.
That, and the hydra are just misunderstood and confused creatures who need to be treated with respect. They are sentient and aware, and we've been shamelessly exterminating them just for existing. I find it odd that they started attacking on sight on coming through the portal. 
((The Hydra aren't intended to be 'used' against anyone in particular... they're just there, confused, and more than a little pissed off.
And having that many chemical reactions flying about, along with open flames, might cause some... interesting... side effects.
Oh- the Hydra Men attacked on sight because we were within their aggro radius when they passed through the portal 
))
"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"
Nataan practically seethed over at this point. What by the fires of Terat was this guy - some sort of super-mega-over-tanker?!
Unfortunately, there wasn't anything he could do at this point. A fast mind didn't always make a fast body, and the Frostvine Agent simply couldn't keep up with Pokin' Prodder's lightning-fast reaction speeds. The hero's grapple succeeded brilliantly, and since not five seconds had passed since Nataan's power boost by heat theft, he just didn't have the energy to supercool the air about him again for at least another minute.
A multitude of spines ripped through the Frostvine Agent's body from front to back, the biosuit simply unable to resist the entire flood of them. A sickly clear fluid trickled from Nataan's ventilator, accompanied by a horrid, gurgling rasp that was likely a raucous curse of some sort.
In a last, desperate gamble, the mercenary tried to break Prodder's hold by ramming the ice sword that sprang from his free hand up through Prodder's gut and into his chest cavity. If this didn't work, the Frostvine Agent would be done for...
--------------------
Doctor con Vulse found nothing but air at the terminator of his intended tackle, the depression of keys having stopped not a moment before the armored villain had passed the pad.
At the same time, Cynic found quite a bit more than air as he attempted to storm through the door, a wall of armor ramming down from the ceiling in less than half a second. Apparently, some security system had detected the robots out of their now-disrupted deflector fields and judged them a large enough threat to seal that particular door with a blast shield.
"Do you mind?" the unseen voice questioned con Vulse haughtily as the doctor teetered by, "I am trying to open this door..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
((can someone explain whats going on in a short sumary for me please
and where my character Kirae can cut in?))
((Whoop, sorry Sovs. >.>)
Prodder's eyes went wide as the sword found its mark. He gasped, struggling to prevent it from piercing all the way through, but to no avail. Even as his body tried to compensate for the assault on it by the chemical agents choking the room like a cloud of imminent death, he found himself run through fully.
The hero grimaced. Thank god for mediport, he thought. But I'm not going without taking this [censored] with me. His hands were covered in spines, giving it a wickedly mace-like appearance. He clasped them and with the last of his strength, brought them down onto Nataan's head.
------------
The Doctor growled. "Yes, I do mind," he said, taking a back-handed swipe at where the voice had seemed to come from. "You seem to have something of mine."
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
((...Meanwhile the grenade is killing you already!))
((Wellp, since nobody seems particularly interested in interacting with me... >.<)
Target Lad was being kept rather busy dodging both Flytrap and Hydra Men, but the fact that both villains and fellow-'hero' were ignoring him completely (aside from a couple of almost desultory attacks) left him feeling an odd combination of pissed off and relieved.
Flying in a crazily erratic, patternless series of swoops as the air filled with acrid smoke and jets of acidic goo (along with the occasional gout of flame or crackle of strange energies), flashes of the battle unfolded before him as the swirls of smoke cleared. He goggled briefly as Nataan and Pokin' Prodder Bloody stupid name... went into Mutually-Assured-Destruction mode, and nearly got crisped by another arc of weirdling energies as the damaged portal shorted briefly, rippling in a bizarre fashion.
"Right." he snapped, loud enough to hear over the thundering chaos that had consumed the portal room. "Who's the sodding moron that decided we needed t' wreck a roomful of equipment that c'd blow us into last week if it went funny? Because that's exactly what's goin' t'happen if'n we dinna' get out o' here!" he yelled, his voice changing at least three octaves in various directions over the course of his brief rant.
Trying to suit actions to words, the little archer made for the hallway, a light bubble of air ionized by his internal electricity keeping him safe-ish from the toxic gases as he flew hard for the exit.
Baulked.
Denied.
Thwarted.
By the time he'd been forced into a fourth circuit of the room, he was seething. Finding himself blocked a fifth time, he gave an inarticulate yell of frustration and whipped out a series of arrows with heavy payloads below the heads, covered in blinking lights. Hauling savagely back on the string, Target Lad fired a brace of highly explosive arrows into the scrum on the floor, not caring at this point what it did to the ever-increasingly-unstable portal. All he wanted was out, and he was counting on the wild wash of concussive force to clear a path for 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"
((To be fair, Pestilence has been firing off some rather large-scale room-filling attacks.))
Cynic's feet slammed into the armored door, buckled, and the Commander wound up with his face smashing against the blockade. Gravity then grabbed hold and dragged him to the ground, seeing fit to tug at his head first for some odd reason and have it smash into the floor.
Through his eyes, everything was a haze. He could still hear perfectly well though.
[ QUOTE ]
"Do you mind?" the unseen voice questioned con Vulse haughtily as the doctor teetered by, "I am trying to open this door..."
[/ QUOTE ]
Cynic managed to glimpse the red armored figure, who looked a bit like a strawberry with his fuzzed-over vision.
The only warning con Vulse and the invisible stranger got before the explosive shot impacted the pad and, naturally, exploded, were the 10 zillion swear words being suddenly shouted at them from Cynic's odd position on the floor.
Macrofracture looked down at the figure crouched before him, for a moment clearer-headed than he had been in a long while. The voices that screamed muttered whispered promised were muffled, though an echo of them seemed to come from somewhere.
Just there. Mister Hysteria was a miserable sight, seemingly held fast, but the barest echo of some distant sound rose from him. Some entity, born of dimensions outside human dreaming, babbled and choked and chittered as it tried to worm its way into the mind of the psychic who had so generously opened his head to it.
Macrofracture reached down for the psychic's face, hands spasming, dancing with maggot-white lightning, but then jerked back before contact, as if burned. Turning his back on the unmoving man, Macrofracture continues down the hallway, towards the bright scent of minds so full and so singular.
Suddenly a girl with black wings fell from the ceiling onto Target Lads shield, falling to the floor
"......ouch..........." the girl said, she then looked up and saw a person holding a bow
"!.......hi..." she said with a weak smile
Pestilence turned quickly away from Nataan and Prodder's supposed doublekill to face Target and the newcomer. How she was still smiling as concentrated Ammonia snaked through her veins was really beyond the Chem Commando, but he figured that this was an opportunity not to pass up.
With the half-empty canister of Saxitoxin set to a concentrated jet, Pestilence took advantage of what he assumed would be a distracted Target Lad and whoever this inept newcomer was and let loose the remainder of his stock at them in a gout of death that sprayed forth like the sickly breath of a beast from their most intense nightmares.
Mistake!
Nataan needed only an instant to act, and Prodder's decision had given him just that. The moment he let go of the Frostvine Agent, the Osh'kan commanded his icy sword to jut anchoring spikes from its blade, locking it firmly within the hero, and pushed off with all the strength he had to get as far from the man as he possibly could.
He got about half a meter. But it was enough to get away from Prodder's strike...and collide with a Man O' War.
The moment the Frostvine Agent made contact with the amoeba-like offshoot of the Hydra, the animated glob whirled about to see what had just hit it. Nataan was of course no longer there, already sinking into the creature's back.
Not that this was exactly bad - the concussive force of a certain grenade-tipped arrow found a rather receptive padding as it splattered the Man O' War against the nearest wall. Furthermore, the large example of Hydra didn't seem so uncoordinated anymore as it stood quite a bit faster than the others that had suffered the same fate.
Fortunately, it didn't seem to have any intent to continue the battle, bolting for the portal with the meanwhile-absorbed Nataan even as it tossed a large gob of slime at a Spawn near Pestilence. That Hydra offshoot in turn began to write a short series of letters and numbers into the floor of the portal chamber: a code that, in short, signified to the chemical wielder that the Frostvine Agent was too heavily injured to keep fighting and would be pulling out.
The portal itself certainly didn't seem to mind, having withstood the explosions with little more than a few scratches. After all, considering heroes standing about in front of these things sometimes got bored and started showing off their 'moves' to teammates and bystanders, Portal Corporation had decided that their portals had better be nice and sturdy...
--------------------
Con Vulse's backhand expectedly caught only air, the unseen man retorting mockingly, "Have something of mine. Feh! The only...!"
A sudden assault of colorful language cut off whatever the invisible man had intended to say then and there, as the voice's owner took the verbal waterfall as cue to make himself thin ASAP.
Then came the explosive blast and blew this part of the plan to kingdom come. Perfect.
Before, the standing-up robots had still been rather relaxed, getting their bearings and thinking things over a few million times to determine the best course of action.
Now, however, they were just mad. Getting knocked about a second time just wasn't in their patience files today.
Cynic's left arm suddenly went numb. No, not just numb - it practically disappeared from the man's nervous system. Sure, visually it was still very much there and completely unharmed. But as far as the Commander's motor neurons were concerned, that part of his body didn't even register anymore. His arm had been completely paralyzed.
How? By a paralyzer, of course. Cynic had just been lucky the drone that had fired the shot hadn't been far from the keypad, the explosive blast shoving it through the air throwing the mechanoid's targeting off by several orders of magnitude, resulting in only a scraping shot. Unlike the normal paralysis of several hours, Cynic would have feeling back in his arm in less than one minute - less if he possessed a strong will or training in that field. The thunder of the explosion had also swallowed the characteristic gunshot-hiss combination of the paralyzer bolt.
But the robot wasn't the only piece of hardware around that had reacted to the explosive blast - and while what the six mechanoids would do now was open to question, the deflector field of their escort had been swept away in a haze of pale-blue lightning.
The corridor suddenly held someone that looked decidedly human, stood around two meters tall, and clothed himself from head to toe in nothing but black. From a duster hat to a full face mask accompanied by round, opaque glasses, a nice shirt complete with tie, trench coat, matte gloves, and long pants with combat boots, everything on the formerly invisible figure carried that same night-black hue.
Well, except for the page in his hand, that was.
"Figures." he growled as he noticed he was no longer unseen...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
Hydra men sprawled in all directions, bouncing like large, unpleasant superballs, several even getting hurled bodily back through the portal. While it was true that the framework was undamaged, the poorly-calibrated accidental portal within it was fluctuating alarmingly as damage to the controls mounted and the various wild energies loosed within the room interfered with the normally carefully-controlled portal energies. Target Lad, unfortunately, noticed almost none of this, merely bolting for the exit the instant his explosives went off.
Target Lad found his flight for the door interrupted by a large black object that crashed into him from above, smashing him sprawling to the floor. It mumbled something barely audible over the noise of multiple running battles... a greeting? The little archer turned to yell, then his eyes went wide as he took in the fact that a) this was a winged girl that had just dropped onto him (probably getting a bit of a shock from the electrical field surrounding him), and b) the chemical wielding nutbar was pointing something that looked like a hose at him.
"Gerroff, y'daft bint!" he yelled, half panicky, half analyzing the danger. The spined hero was down, hopefully being ignored by the Hydra men, and his icy opponent was nowhere to be seen. He grabbed the girl with the wings and lunged skywards, trying to get one of multi-staged room's platforms between them and the oncoming chemical spray.
I' this wench cooperates and lets me get 'er out o' th' way, then th' sod wi' th' toxic toys i' gettin' a flaming arrow up his nose. he thought aggrievedly.
"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"
"Er, hey! Now waitaminnit!" She shouted, turning around just as the door shut. "That's not even fair! Damn villain." She landed on the ground and stomped her foot, shutting off her Personal Forcefield. "Stupid little... How the Hell am I supposed to help out here now!?" She, frustrated, stomped around the building, headed for the back entrance.
OOC: Julia and Cynic are now separated by solid armor plating. It's a DOOR. Otherwise he WOULD have hit her. :P
((Oh ho, wouldn't you like to know?
Stick around and find out. 
))
"Cripes!" the invisible figure cried out as the energy-razor storm popped into existence, catching the robotic entourage that trailed in its midst.
Their deflector fields failed almost instantly, unable to cope with the entry and departure of that much kinetic energy at once, revealing six of the seven for what they were: apparently nothing more that standard 'mastermind robotic henchmen' from the Rogue Isles.
What wasn't quite so standard, however, was their reaction to the storm - the razors collided with previously unseen barriers about the mechanoids, air flaring up pale-blue all about them in spherical arrangements as several layers of shielding intercepted Cynic's assault.
Of course, with that much force involved, momentum just somewhat laughed at said shields, sending the robots flying whichever way the vector sum had ended up pointing. In short, the mechanoids had been played pinball with, and now worked on regaining their bearings.
Considering the biopositronic nature of their 'brains', however, that wouldn't stop them for long.
The keypad-locked door not a few meters down the hall, however, performed that job nicely, forcing the leading invisible being to stop for now. Still, at least judging from the purposeful depression of the pad's numerics, that wouldn't last very long either...
--------------------
"None of your concern." Nataan rasped forth as he brought his massive ice sword down on Prodder, intending to cleave the man in half right then and there...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters