Bring the rain - (Rikti Invasion - Open RP)
By
Big_Lunk_EU,
Posted on: 2008-04-18 08:54 in Roleplaying
Jean-Luc muttered and burrowed his head deeper underneath the pillow, fumbling with one hand for the alarm which seemed to be ringing in a rather muffled note. He slammed the offending piece of machinery with his fist, and frowned, snorted, yawned, and didn't budge an inch.
Then he frowned harder - the alarm was still going.
Quoi?
Jean-Luc blearily opened an eye and lifted the pillow off his head, scowling. Alarms - did someone break into the club? He sniffed at the air; no smoke, no unidentified scents, but still an ala-
He shot to his feet when a shuddering explosion rocked the club, and then another - they were coming from outside, and Jean-Luc cursed under his breath and snatched up his leather trousers, having no time to grab anything else. "If dat de Skulls I'm gonna rip 'em in two," he growled, sprinting out of his makeshift studio apartment, vaulting over his desk, skidding round the corner and barrelling for the door, flinging it open wide after punching in the code -
His senses immediately started reeling once he'd done so; the sky was black, tinged with green, alien shapes floating in the sky and dropping screaming, whistling egg shaped things from their bellies. The alarm was a howl in his head, and his sense of smell was haywire, colours and images exploding in his head.
Rikti. Right outside my door.
Jean-Luc grinned...or at least he bared his teeth. His eyes flared a brilliant gold as he flicked his wrists forward, the cruel edged claws slicing open the skin between his knuckles and locking into place. Already the skin on his bare chest and back was rippling, skinning over with rapidly growing silver-white hair as he strode forward into the blast zone.
"Oh heeeeellllno," he growled, though he felt a strange sense of elation as well. It was like meeting an old friend, eating a food one enjoyed, or a fine wine. Heroes all around started to converge outside Pocket D, one or two in bathrobes and nightgowns, having just been awakened by the klaxons, but all of them were grim, and all of them were ready.
"Not in my own you don'...oooooh no," Jean-Luc rasped at the drop-ships overhead, and there was a murmur of assent around him.
The first Rikti warriors began to jump-shift into existence on the ground, their rifles blazing, Jean-Luc was already on all fours, shifted into his full lycan-form, leaping at the first Conscript in his sights, slicing through armour as if it was tin and howling.
"Gowon den, bring it! Bring de rain!"
******
For hours, he fought them, sprinting on his paws toward the next tube line for the next city, aware in the back of his mind this was bigger than it had ever been. There were Rikti everywhere - every corner of the city, and they were in force. After beating them to a pulp in one place, the cry was sent up that two more forces had appeared elsewhere. Back and forth over all of Paragon he dashed; snarling, clawing, biting, rolling, ducking, diving, howling. The hunt-song was in his head and his veins, and for the first time in months, Loup Garou was enjoying himself immensely. The Rikti had always been his favourite prey, and he was so deep in the hunt there was little thought for anything else.
Yet, even so, once the forces finally retreated against the onslaught of the united heroes of Paragon, once he had finally burned off his rage and adrenaline, shifting back into his half-dressed, barefoot form, he frowned. This wasn't like the Rikti...they didn't attack in these numbers, not like this. He had no idea what was going on - but he warred briefly with his hunting mind; to have prey was all it required.
But for Jean-Luc, to have a solution was more important.
Gingerly - he was in an abandoned dockyard this time, and there was debris and glass all over the place - he picked his way out of the rather battered terrain on bare feet. He could have shifted and ran out, but he needed to think. He sighed, rubbed his slightly bloody face with a hand, and shook his head.
"Merd'...mebbe I need to come outta retiremen' a bit sooner 'n I thought...."
(( Time for fun ))
Efranof laid on the roof of a small building in Port Oakes, in his right hand an urn and in his left a half empty bottle of rum. He chuckled to himself as the sky turned green and his skin turned black. A Rikti drop ship loomed overhead as Efranof melted into the roof with his rum and urn. He staggered out of an alleyway, explosions erupting around, despite this he kept on cackling to himself, occasionally taking a swig of rum.
Villains of the Rogue Isles looked up in disgust, some in fear, others in love. As beams of energy and bombs rained death upon those unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, Efranof merrily staggered amongst the carnage. From a death ship flying over, a bomb fell with near perfect precision. With just enough time to react, Ef took the urn into his chest teleporting it to safety just as the bomb crushed and they blew him up.
Rikti started teleporting onto the streets, running past a small black smear on the ground without realizing the black mist emanating from it. As a few of the troops stopped near the small dark smoking patch, they suddenly fell as Efranof reconstructed himself from the stolen life energy. Grasping his sword in his right hand with his left hand swelling up into an unholy claw, he started mauling his way through the Rikti.
When it was over, Efranof's sword disappeared into a mist and his hand seemed to return to normal. He walked back into an alleyway, mumbling to himself. "Damn Rikti."
I am the Blaster, I have filled the role of Tank, Controller and Defender
Sometimes all at once.
Union EU player! Pip pip, tally ho, top hats and tea etc etc
Location: Steel Canyon
Stanford, increase the power to 80% to my bench and turn off the shields said Joseph Infinus to his head RnD scientist.
Are you sure thats wise sir? You remember what happened yesterday, are you sure you have fixed the explodiness? he replied with a smirk on his face.
Well, Im pretty sure. One way to find out he added with a matching smirk.
SHIELD SYSTEM DEACTIVATED announced the VI computer. But as it did so, the pair of boots on the table began to vibrate and the left one suddenly disintegrated. The right one wobbled to a halt.
Well, at least it didnt explode this ti... Infinus said but was cutoff by the sound of an almighty explosion and the whole building shaking. Infinus rushed to the window and looked out. All he saw was the dark outline of Steel Canyon. This was not a good thing.
The war walls are down; I only told you to turn off the shields on the bench Stanford, not the entire city commented Infinus with a smile as he picked up his helmet and secured over his head, booting up the display features.
Very droll sir, Rikti is it? From previous experience it would seem their style Stanford replied.
Yeah it is, theres one of those bombers out the window said Infinitron, adding you might want to leave the room, I suggest the basement picking up his assault rifle from its stand. As Stanford left the room, the blast doors sealed the lab.
Infinitron raised the rifle to his shoulder, selecting burst fire mode, and shot the window. As the window shattered, Infinitron kept the rifle poised and released a Light Medium Range Missile into the side of the passing ship. It got their attention, and guns swivelled to take in this new threat, and started blasting; but Infinitron wasnt there, hed already jetted out the window of the 25th floor, hurtling towards the ground. Coming into focus in Infinitrons visor was a white shape that too was falling to the ground. No less constructed of metal than Infinitron, but not nearly as devastating, Infinitron thought to himself as he increased his descent speed to keep up with the falling bomb before it hit.
Swooping in an arc, he caught the bomb out of the air, and immediately began his ascent. Dodging the energy fire from the ship was hard enough without carrying a 2 tonne bomb; so Infinitron was relieved that the ships attention was being distracted by a caped figure who was trying to damage the propulsion system at the back of the ship. Infinitron didnt recognise them, and swooped around the far side of the ship. As Infinitron reached the rear of the ship to help this plucky hero, they were nowhere to be seen. Unperturbed, Infinitron landed on the top rear of the ship. Grabbing his rifle, he used the flamethrower to begin melting the hull of the ship. A whole didnt appear, the hull had been strengthened it seemed, but it had become soft so Infinitron just lifted the device and used his strength to just smash it into the softened hull. It had done the job; the bomb was now fused to the hull. In a stylish backflip, more for himself than for any particular onlookers, he leapt off the ship. He saw it try to turn, but it was too late, they couldnt outrun this threat. As the bomb went off the ship plummeted down into the lake, coming to rest at the western shore.
Realising that this was an invasion, not just a solitary incursion, Infinitron took the rifle in a firing position, set it to full auto, and sped towards the crowds of Rikti below...
"So, how mmmmuch forrr it?"
Leandrea was reigning in her patience as the jeweller took his time awing and humming while poking the small, flat bar of gold he was hunched over. He was the third and by now Lea's expectations were lower and lower, each one before him had started to ask questions and probing the provenience of the gold, to which her (at first truthful, and then progressively vague) answers weren't satisfactory.
The tiny white feline took the time to examine her surroundings. It was certainly a seedier shop than the first two. Dust was gathering on the flat surfaces, the shinnies in display weren't particulary pretty or in good condition and above all, it was cramped, the shop itself crammed between two buildings of a back alley. On her own she would never have found it.
A throat clearing noise from the bent man made her look back, small beads of sweat were pearling his brow and the little cat found herself slightly disgusted from the display and rank smell.
'Hairless apes...'
The thought remained in her head such as her hands firmly in her pockets. She was small in her previous world, though average in her original one, but in this one she was smaller than a young human child and at fifty years old the patronizing tones and 'little one' comments were wearing thin.
Especially as she was so thrice damned powerless. It was a sobering sight to give all she had against a Rikti and see how it withstood her, she who had been able to put down a building with a single well aimed blast. As it was she no longer could fly (a cold grip at the base of her stomach at the loss of that freedom), her strength was average for her size and her speed was baseline. No blasts, no healing others, no resilience.
With a slight shiver the feline tried to focus on what she *could* still do. She could still absorb energy, she could still digest it and use it in a punch, she could still steal the kinetic energy of a physical blow in order to neuter most of it, or absorb an energy blast in order to deflect most of its destructiveness. And she could use that energy to boost her self-healing. But it was all so basic. New world, new rules, it would take some heavy duty meditating to attune herself to the similar-yet-slightly-different laws of physics.
Leaving the pawnkeeper to his own devices (undoubtly trying to work how to swindle her further, Lea thought) the little cat pondered the last two days.
The Rikti had been coming strong and her initial unwillingness to join in the resistance had been suddenly shattered when a small invasion fleet attacked Galaxy City as she was there.
Joining others who were present she found herself recruited in a small team of.. of... At this point the poetic justic would be saying of grim, hard faced fighters. But in truth other than that deliciously hunky wolf the rest were taking it as some sort of fun adventure, something which Lea attributed to the outstanding medical facilities and what the heroes called 'medi-port' which transported them to the hospital if their vital signs reached dangerous levels. It did remove much of the 'hero' in heroing, but it was certainly safer, and prone to allow truly dangerous levels of arrogance. Few seemed to take the invasion seriously.
The two days and nights had blurred by then. Some of the small team left to be replaced by others, but the fighting had been non stop, the raid sirens had been a constant and she was exhausted as much from the fighting as from running from one place to the other while the others flew, or jumped. The absorbed energy from the Rikti blasts only did so much to sustain her stamina with so little food and littler rest stolen between the raids.
Of those frantic days she only remembered glimpses of those who had shared the battles. Psionic Song, who was like a radio station, picking the mental impulses of the Rikti and chillingly addopting their manner of speech while guiding them to the landing spots. Molly, the pink armed-to-the-teeth teen with a seeming endless supply of bullets. Someone truly huge fittingly called Big Lunk, who easily tore through the Rikti she was barely denting with a sword in each huge meaty paw. And of course, the wolf, Loup Garou as a discreet enquiry revealed, who had distincly chilled his warm smile once she had flirted a few times with him.
Rubbing her gritty feeling eyes Lea decided this world was certainly operating on its own set of rules, so far each little flirt had not only been rebuffed but pretty much had her ostracized by whomever had caught her eye.
"So, where did you get this?" Lea was shaken from her exhausted flashback by the reedy voice. There was greed in it, expertly hidden in a bored tone, but he really should stop holding both hands possessively cupped over the gold bar and sweating so visibly for it to be believed.
'Well you see, this is the fourth world I've found myself in and by now I would call myself a veteran. You can't carry much, and there's always a need for lodging and food until getting used to the new culture. Gold is an universal trade commodity and is always valued as long as it's real, natural, neither man made of magicked up. So I bought it and brough it over instead of money that would be toy cash here.'
"Stole it," Lea said instead, having perfectly recognized the type of pawnshop and shopkeeper she was dealing with.
The man's eyes just about glittered in happyness.
The Hand of Battle rolled onto her side, grimacing in pain as she did so. She was lying on a bed in the Crown Memorial Hospital, having come in as one of the walking wounded from the latest Rikti invasion.
She'd responded to this latest attack after waking up on a couch in the Fourth Wall club, after falling asleep there the night before. When the Vanguard warning had jolted her out of a particularly pleasent dream involving Foraois Gadai, she'd groggily picked up her broadsword; The Light of Dawn, and jogged to the exit. She'd not changed into her combat gear as there wasn't time to get back to her apartment in the Maze. Instead she'd gone straight to the zone Vanguard had alerted her to and joined the dozen or so other heroes that were defending the monorail station there.
She coughed, wincing as her bruised ribs and abdomen protested the spasm, and rolled onto her back annoyingly uncomfortable and throughly frustrated. She'd been in the thick of the fighting outside as usual, Rikti conscripts swinging clumsy blows that she'd parried and dodged with nimble ease. Everything seemed to be going in her favour, right up until the Rikti Officer cadre had teleported in. She'd stared at them; the Priet, two Mesmerists, and a Chief Soldier unreadable behind their helmets and masks. Her fellow defenders had had their hands full fighting off the swarms of regular troops beaming in around them, so Hand of Battle had levelled her sword toward the chief, and asked him if he dared face the wielder of The Light of Dawn. He'd drawn his massive, glowing-edged blade at her challenge, understanding her intention if not fully her words.
They'd circled then, cagily measuring their opponent for signs of weakness, while the other officers watched the pair. After a few more seconds they'd stood still, and Hand had begun a silent count. When she'd reached four the Chief had lunged for her with a deceptively swift blow aimed for her midriff, but she'd brought her own blade down in an arc to intercept it. Blade rang against blade, the pulsating energy field of the alien's weapon sending sparks winnowing to either side as it recoiled from the blow. Hand watched it take a half step back before hauling its blade round to one side and down in an overhand swing aimed for her head. She'd taken a single half-step to her right and the blow had cracked the concrete inches from her left foot, at the same time her sword-arm brought her weapon back and around in a horizontal slash that rent a deep gash in the Chief Soldiers' breast-plate. Hand looked with some amount of pride as thick alien ichor seeped from the gap she'd made, but her pride was short-lived as the Mesmerists behind the Chief had raised their hands in unison, their minds lancing out to assail her own.
She'd reeled under the psychic assault, her mind fogged immediately by garbled words repeating themselves over and over again, taunts and disheartening promises and propagandic prose all fighting to overwhelm her senses, and the pain of it threatened to black her out. She managed to keep her eyes open through it all, though, and she saw just in time the Chief Soldier's sword as it glittered towards her face. She brought her blade up in time but the parry was clumsy, her senses thrown by the psionic bombardment. Their swords met, but her own was face on to the Rikti's and it had smashed into her face, stunning her and throwing her onto her back. Her grip loosened and The Light of Dawn skittered across the ground behind her. Her eye threatened to swell shut but she'd grit her teeth and willed it to stay open, rolling herself left as the Rikti's following blow tore another great gash from the concrete where she'd landed. She got her feet underneath her and used her momentum to spring towards the Rikti Chief, both hands balled into fists and pointed forwards in a lunge that caught the Rikti off-balance as it pulled its blade free of the ground.
Hand collided hard with the big Rikti, her weight and momentum driving it off its feet to stagger into the two Mesmerists still hammering at Hands' mind. They all fell together in a tangled heap not helped by their bulky armour, giving Hand the few precious seconds she needed to sight and recover her sword and turn back to her immediate foes. The Rikti Priest was standing right behind her when she'd turned, its hands glowing with arcane light. It lanced a bright beam of energy into her, and she'd immediately felt her body weaken, her strength sapped from her muscles. She'd hauled her sword round but the Rikti was too close, and it used its own blade to easily bat hers aside before plunging it deep into her chest in a riposte powered by its newly stolen strength. She'd coughed blood into the Rikti's face, her chest ablaze with the searing agony of the energy field around the alien weapon, and she'd passed out.
She'd woken up she knew not how long afterwards, the skies were once again their familiar blue haze, and she had found herself staring into the eager yet concerned faces of the other heroes she'd lost track of in the fight. One of them, a male she knew only from the voice that was muffled by his costume, had told her that reinforcements had come and the Rikti had retreated. He said that he'd patched her wounds, but lacked the ability to close them fully as he'd not mastered his powers yet. Hand had mumbled her thanks, and he'd put her arm over his shoulders and helped her limp to the hospital, where the doctors and healer-class supers had mended her shattered ribs and closed her gaping, cauterised wound. They'd said she'd arrived just in time, as the Rikti weapon had cut her medi-porter module in two and she'd almost bled out. Then the male hero; who's name she hadn't gotten, had headed out of the hospital to lend aid to the nezt zone under attack. Hand had let her head fall backward onto the bed with an inward curse. He'd sounded hot.
She still lay on that bed, having rolled over for the tenth or eleventh time, cursing the bruises that remained even with the medical staff's healing arts. She watched the door to her ward like a hawk, hoping to see some sign of the costumed hero who dragged her in here. Hours passed, and night fell without even a glimmer of the man. Hand checked the closest clock, and sighed. It looked like she'd be here all night.
((*Puts his writing cap on*))
The grey, reptillian figure of Iron Alligator stood amidst the panicky streets of Port Recluse, Sharkhead Isle. Men, women and children were rushing around no more than a couple of metres away, trying to escape the noise and the hustle, and the ever-looming shapes of Rikti craft above...
Gator looked behind him. Beings of all shapes and sizes were now congregating in one place, all anticipating the sound which had become all too familiar to the denizens of the Rogue Isles and Paragon City over the past week. It seemed that the villains of the Isles had stopped fighting eachother to combat a greater threat. Whether they were putting aside their differences to defend their home or just thought that Rikti made good punching bags wasn't something that he let puzzle him - though, personally, he was more inclined towards the latter.
Then it came. That ear-splitting, shrieking noise of the teleporters which meant that death had descended upon the streets, that the first warriors had arrived, that hope and happiness was gone until the skies became blue again. This, Gator imagined, was how it was in Paragon. Here, the united cries of delight from the gathered Villains was almost louder. Countless projectiles of both lead and energy came from both sides. Gator threw a devastating haymaker towards one of the aliens, denting its helmet and quite possibly caving in its skull, as might have been evidenced when it dropped like a cinderblock in a lake. He made sure with a vicious stomp from a clawed foot before laying into the next unlucky invader.
He fought long and with ferocity paralleled only by the next savage villain who was tearing apart the invaders (and there were quite a few of them here). He laughed like a scaley hyena as he dismembered his foes with his claws, his strength and their own weapons. Their mentalists were providing a bit of trouble for the crocodillian mutant, but they were quickly dealt with by those they couldn't affect. He'd lost himself in the euphoric carnage, the sheer amount of damage he was dealing towards the aliens registering with his senses like a tasty meal. Rikti were a tasty meal, after all. A few seconds ago he'd bitten through a helmetless Rikti's face. At least, he thought so. Mmm, alien...
After a while which seemed like a wonderfull lifetime of joy to Gator, the numbers were thinning out. Grinning ferociously, his teeth dripping with Rikti blood, he turned towards a small group of Conscripts and raised his voice to a vicious shout.
"GET THE #### OFF MY PLANET!"
With some gentle persuasion, the aliens were happy to oblige; straight to hell, he thought...
Loud music came from an apartment in Kings Row muffled those ever common sirens. A young crimson-haired girl noticed the war walls were down as she peered out of her murky window, after a few moments she turned down the blaring Heavy Metal music. Casually Holly Steel picked up her gloves, her gloves that had two trigger mechanisms in each hand, and a knife guard on each wrist, wiring some tubing into her clunky mechanical feet she sighed. Holly didn't like this, but she had to defend her home and that meant defending the whole apartment in which over fifty people resided. Out in her casual wear that more often than not, was either a rip-off of Freddy Krueger's top, or had profanaties in big writing written on it, she wore her favourite red and black checker skirt and badly torn fishnets.
Picking up her wooden baseball bat from the bed with 'Kiss it' etched into the grain, she headed out of her apartment. Upon exiting her crib she lowered her blast goggles, sheathing her bat onto her back in which she'd made a special hook mechanism, easy to take off the bat and easy to put back on. Looking at her black, tightly fit gloved palm, she crafted a bubble, then poured fuel into the bubble. Essentially this acted similar to a waterbomb, filled with petrol, ready to be ignited into something that would likly represent a Molotov Cocktail. She juggled it, waiting for that all familiar sound of Rikti teleporters.
The first footsoldiers began to materialise in front of her, right outside her front doorstep. Clicking her metallic heels together her hydraulics kicked in, propelling her backwards into an alleyway. Lighting up the starter flame inside of the bubble whilst in mid-air she threw it, hard, and bang on target. The water-balloon like missile hit its target, exploding into a fireball, lighting up the black tinted lenses on Holly's goggles. She landed and landed harshly as the next footroops ported in, her metal feet caused the tarmac to crack from a 20ft fall, she slowly pushed herself up, taking aim once again. The alien invaders took aim and fired at the young woman, before she could fire back, Holly leapt to one side, fast enough to avert the plasma blast. Another bubble-bomb flew from Holly's hand, exploding on the group of Rikti, they ran around flailing as their flesh burned. Especially the monkeys, they went wild their burning petrol covered bodys trying desperately to reach the twenty-two year old before they would live their last moments. One got close enough. The thudding sound of wood against bone was heard, Holly's baseball bat sending the disgusting Monkey flying atleast 5ft into the air.
In pure Will Smith Independence day style Holly stood over the now dead and burned Monkey "Don't <censored> <censored> on our <censored> planet you <censored> <censored>!" she kicked the corpse, looking over into the distance, the war walls powering back up.
Kyle James, AKA Cyberspace, sat in his hideout typing away at his computers. His speakers blared out music loud rock music, any-thing from The Last Word all the way to Guns N Roses. Currently it was playing a song by the group POD, to which Kyle badly sang alone,
"Well, it's alright! It's all right! BOOM! Here comes the..." suddenly the walls shook causing his building to suffer a brown out, only his suit, hardwired into the power, kept his computers active. He clicked the music off and listen carefully as another explosion went off in the distance,
"...that can't be good..." activating his camera to the outside he could see the sickly green colour that accopanied a Rikti attack. He shut down the connection an began typing away at his keyboard. Suddenly the large heavy door to the room gave off a large THUNK noice and a massive bar locked into place. Now nothing could get in to his chamber. He was safe.
Kyle reached into a draw and removed a pair of expensive, noice reducing headphones and plugged them into the jack port before starting up his music again, completly uncaring of the battles going on outside,
"Boom! Here comes the Boom! How you like me now?"
In a back street of Cap Au Diable Elizabeth is attracting the attention of a handsome young man. She was wearing a small sexy black dress and the man obviously felt he hit the jackpot. Pulling him back in the shadows of a dark ally he stumbles over his words… “H-how much!”
Elizabeth holds her finger against his lips. “For you its for free tonight, pretty boy.”, she says with a smile. She pulls him close and starts kissing him passionately. Then she starts to lick his neck. The man closes his eyes and as such misses the sudden change of appearance in his forbidden love her face. Eyes turned red, skin pale and fangs grew sharp the second she strikes. He was dead so fast that he still retained his smile of ecstasy when she dropped his body on the filthy alley stones.
Then something unexpected happens… Behind her a portal appears and Rikti stepped out. The first one blasted her and hit her shoulder. Elizabeth hissed with pain, but overcame her initial surprise. The second shot only caught the night mists she had turned into, to solidify in front of the second one. With one fast movement she snapped the invader his neck and opened his armor with her claws. More out of habit then sense she placed her fangs in his skin, regretting it a moment later.
Spewing the alien blood out she hissed… “Damn aliens… ugly… attacking my turf… and unfit as food too.” Across the street she sees a second portal appear, more Rikti coming out.
She grabbed the first soldier his quantum gun and shoved it aside… her right claw-like nails entering his throat and pushing him up to the alley wall. “I don’t need you creeps on this planet!”, she screams.
She turned towards her dead human victim. “Time for you to do me a favor, pretty boy.” And with that she started to chant in latin, dark powers formed around them both. The fumes entered the corpse of the man and his eyes opened. “Go get them… leave none alive!”
The corpse grabbed an iron bar and started hacking around. In only a few minutes he had killed at least five invaders while his mistress killed the rest. Then the flow of Rikti ended as soon as it began. Leaving Elizabeth with a torn dress, dead aliens filling the alley and a vampire queen with a wild blood-thirsty look in her eyes.
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"Every bl**dy day. Don't those mutated b*****ds have holidays?"
PHOOMP! A muzzle flash tears out from under Skyway City flyover, where Ben 'Big Lunk' Campbel sits hidden from the Rikti sensors overhead, taking a 'rest' with a spot of target practice, and thinking to himself.
"No little Riktlets snuggled up in their sleeping chamber waiting for S'nta k'laus on christmas eve?"
A moment passes before the burst of an incendiary shell crackles against a Rikti Bomber's armour, barely noticed by the pilots inside. The 'Click-Clack' of the anti-armour-rifle's bolt action echoes around the concrete supports.
"I suppose that's too human. No one wants to think of them as having families... children.... lives beyond trying to stamp us out..."
PHOOMP!
"...makes them easier to kill..."
Click-Clack... PHOOMP!
Click-Clack... PHOOMP!
Click-Clack...
"Probably the whole deal with the Omega Clearance. Distance the population's minds from their enemy, don't let them empathise, avoid support from in your own ranks."
Bellow, a blue spandex clad figure struggles to fight a Rikti soldier in a parking lot. Lunk lowers the rifle sights, taking aim.
PHOOMP!
The hero stands in shock, his blue clothing now a rather messy red, before yelling 'KILL STEALER!'
"What kind of hell hole is this for me to be trying to raise a family?"
Click-Clack... PHOOMP!
"Drugs, gangs, guns, high tech super powered aliens trying to assimilate us"
Click-Clack... PHOOMP!
"It's like shaft and StarTrek rolled into one big ugly ball"
Click-Clack... PHOOMP!
"Somewhere nice and quiet, in the middle of nowhere, with a few dogs, and a wide field. I'd of moved their years ago..."
Click-Clack... PHOOMP!
"...if I didn't LOVE this f***ing lifestyle!"
Click-Clack... PHOOMP!
Click-Clack... PHOOMP!
Click-Clack... PHOOMP!...
Two-thirty am was not a time he was normally up at, yet Ryan Andrews found himself staring into the mirror at his apartment, stood in the middle of the en-suite bathroom attached to his room.
His New Vigilants uniform's jacket rested over the seat of the toilet, the advanced material already healing over the burns and tears it had sustained in the last wave of attack. His bare torso told a different story though.
Lacerations and plasma burns ran along his arms; sticky, almost dried blood having trickled and ran in rivlets from the wounds, and a smaller number dotted his chest along with already purpling bruises.
It was not just that which the young man had stared at in the mirror. The seventeen-year-old was regarding his upper body carefully from behind the orange-lens glassed he wore to shield his eyes from the light of his powers. He was getting stronger, physically as well as metaphysically.
Leaning forwards, he rested his hands on the side of the sink as he studied himself, his expression searching. The shift from a young, lithe form to an older, more powerfully muscled physique had crept up on him unaware. Long, hard hours in the training room and on the streets had built up his upper body strength further, and the varying scars that criss-crossed his body, including the large, pale gash across his side from a Rikti Warblade served as reminders of his current position.
"Maybe I just see myself differently now..." Ryan wondered out loud, a hand brushing some of the bloodied blond hair from his forehead as he took the glasses off.
The mental changes from his new position, the shift in mindset, had already started. Other factors helped define this, such as the issues with him. Idly, he glanced towards his cellphone again.
No new messages.
Placing his glasses on the side of the bathroom counter, Cindersnap flexed his arms a little, wincing a little as one of his wounds opened a little more. He wasn't even sure if he actually saw what came next though, the slight glow from the wound as it healed over, the slight glow from deep within his eyes and the prickle of heat running over his exposed body.
"... I need more sleep." Ryan grumbled, tugging off his boots and finally the tight fitting trousers that finished off his uniform, wincing a little more at the sight of some of the cuts on his legs. Running at superhuman speeds had helped to tone them up as well, and with a slight chuckle he turned and peered over his back before grinning.
"Wow... all this working out -does- help." The young man smiled. "Assuming the heroing doesn't get me killed." He said to himself, wandering into the shower. Switching the temperature down a couple of notches, he didn't even shiver as the cool spray washed over his body.
He -did-, however, wince as the water washed shed blood away after running over the cuts. Gingerly, he dabbed each wound clean with a washcloth, before sitting under the spray with a sigh, letting the flow wash away the stresses and filth of battle.
The metaphysical strength increase worried Ryan more. His powers could hurt people, or worse, if he wasn't careful with them. Yet now more than ever, the intensity of the flame was coming easier and easier, burning hotter and hotter. It was more of a struggle to keep them -from- being dangerous, and to keep his temper under control from stoking the inner coals higher.
The help of his friend Long, in teaching him the ways of elemental combat and spirituality had helped reign in the destructive abilities of his powers, but on the flipside, taught him how to harness more. More heat, more efficient, more quickly burning. Blastwaves that could bring the mightiest Rikti warriors, and Ryan, to their feet were becoming more common place for him.
They also gave him something to focus into... something to help contain the more childish wishes to show his powers off, to develop and grow and lead. Part of him, deep within him, strived to furfill his new position as a leader.
"People count on me..." Ryan whispered to himself under the sound of the shower spray, to steel his resolve. "He can make his own choice about me... I need to make sure I can do the job I chose, to help the people who need me, and to enjoy my time with my friends when I get it... not fret over these things..."
His eyes were closed as he lifted his head to let a cascade of water spill across his face. There was no point to worry about things now, and he had already started to help his new, albeit unlike friend Jean-Luc with -his- situation with that man. The things he told him made sense... yet why did Ryan never follow them?
"Easier to do as I say than do as I do..." He sighed, hauling himself back up to his feet in the shower. Maybe Linda was right. Maybe he was too nice with regards to that situation?
The spray cut off as Ryan turned the handle, steam rising from his body as he warmed the air around him to dry himself off. He'd never get any sleep if he kept thinking on this. Still steaming as he walked towards the bed in the other room, Ryan's breathing slowed as he calmed himself, just how Long taught him.
For the fire-wielding mutant, having a mind as still and calm as a tranquil pool of water was something he needed. Crawling under the covers, he fumbled in the dark to turn them down to just above his waist. Laying there for a while, his body already was beginning to drift off, pulling his mind with it.
"BODICIA?" he asked as an afterthought, a fingertip on his earpiece as he looked at the ceiling.
"Yes, Ryan? Is everything alright, the hour is rather late." The AI of the Unity Vigil replied.
"Couldn't sleep, had a lot on my mind..." Ryan said, the events of the day, and the past couple of weeks starting to catch up on him.
"I am sorry to hear that, I -do- hope you can calm things down in your head. We cannot have you exploding on us." BODICIA chuckled.
"I'm sure it will... can you shift all my appointments forwards two hours tomorrow? I need to catch up on my rest, B, and I've got nothing urgent tomorrow."
"Of course Ryan, consider it done. After Monday's shift, you probably need it." The AI said rather gently in his ear.
"Mmmh... Bodi?" Ryan mumbled sleepily, his eyelids heavy.
"Yes Ryan?"
"...Thanks... love you, night..." He murmured, his hand falling from his ear to the pillow.
The Unity Vigil's OverAI was strangely quiet for several moments, before replying. "Goodnight Ryan. Sleep tight, and sweet dreams." BODICIA's artificial voice whispered softly.
Ryan's lips flickered into a content smile, rolling to his side as his mind sunk further into the recesses of sleep.
You could take the boy and turn them into a man, but you can never quite take the boy from within...
Things were going terribly wrong.
Craddling her broken arm on her lap, Lea fought the rise of nausea the grating of broken bones grated caused each time she moved.
So much for posturing about the heroes being arrogant, how easy it was to fall into the same when all seemed to be going well. This was a small planet with big guns and for a while it looked as if they were going to push the Rikti after a series of won battles.
And yet.. And yet..
Heavy stomps of an armored alien came closer to the bench where Lea was hidding under, but the steps carried on without stopping.
The raiding had been a violent push, she had heard as much as three different sirens going off at the same time and had headed to Atlas, it being the closest.
It was a scene of disaster. it had started as usual, powers being fired, small talk, but once the tide of Rikti had begun it soon became a tsunami. Being at waist level she couldn't even see what was happening though at a certain point she noticed far less screams and far far less coloured costumes in a sea of dull green and grey.
It was by then she was starting to get overhelmed. Too many at once, too many fists, too many great glowing swords and ionised gun blasts. As much as she took and tried to use far more came until she had reeled back and disappeared under a pile of Rikti whose fists and swords rose and fell at the crumpled small white form.
It was a big blur of pain of which she just barely remembered a spandex wearing hero unleashing a mighty gale of wind that tossed the aliens away like matchsticks. An eye was almost closed shut and when he grinned there was a bloody gap in an otherwise perfect smile. Unshakeable optism just poured from him and if her ringing ears were able to catch the words his moving lips were forming she was sure they would be inspiring and uplifting. He was healing her and trying to keep the gale going at the same time.. For a few seconds it looked as if it was going to work and then with a spray of red mist his head suddenly disappeared.
His body twitched in the air for an agonizing second before crumpling to the ground and shimmering away. She doubted even the great medical facilities could do something for him.
She was having trouble breathing and the red puddle where the hero had fallen were forcing hysterical tears to her eyes whenever she happened to glance its way.
Then, silence... She risked crawling from under the bench and look over. The aliens, all of them, chillingly moving as if a single unit had stopped and looked at the sky before disappearing in their familiar green glow.
They had left, but why? They had won this one.
((A departure from my usual style - going for first person for once. Also SPOILER ALERT - OMEGA LEVEL INFORMATION IS REVEALED IN THIS POST))
{Founder's Falls}
I remember it clear as a photograph. I suppose I could always ask Helena for a holographic replay of the events, but an image like that doesn't convey the terror, the shock, or any of the other myriad of emotions that you feel while you're actually there.
I was sitting outside at my favourite coffee shop, having my usual cappucino, served by Debbie - a rather sweet young blonde girl of maybe nineteen, working to help pay her college tuition - who for the usual inexplicable reasons finds me easy to talk to, and who was at that moment explaining to me about her boyfriend, Justin, and the problems he was having. I'll admit that I was only half-listening to her, since I'd heard most of it before. Coming here every day, she knew that I didn't really listen, but just needed someone to talk to who would give a male perspective to her problems. It's an equitable arrangement, whereby I get to lounge around away from the pressures of the job, drink as much coffee as I want, and flirt with the barristas. In return I make a point of leaving a generous tip, which is probably why Joanne, who runs the place, will every now and then give me a free slice of cake.
It's good cake.
Still, I digress. Debbie had just launched into "What that Selene said about my Justin, and why I hate her", when Helena pinged a comm alert to me from Vanguard. Rikti inbound. A dozen dropships, and the War Walls were down. Glancing up and down the street, I couldn't see hide nor hair of any other heroes, but the sudden darkening of the sun that always seems to precede these assaults had everyone looking up.
Smoothly rising to my feet, I rested a hand on Debbie's shoulder and passed her a twenty-dollar bill. "Here's today's, my dear. Now, please, get inside, get everyone else, and get safe." She just goggled at me, which was about the best I could expect, really, so I turned her gently by her shoulders and gave her a little push toward the door back into the shop.
Perhaps not the best move I could have made, as at that moment a dropship drifted overhead, and sent a viridian energy beam lancing down at the street. The shockwave knocked me from my feet, and I cursed as I felt hot metal slice into my thigh. Not enough to slow me down yet, but enough to cause me problems further down the line if I wasn't careful.
Tactics. Not exactly my strong point. When you're an immortal singularity with a theoretical mass twice that of the planet you live on, you tend to be aware that you can bull your way through most problems. I could destroy this dropship easily. Negligible effort. Hundreds of dead Rikti, thousands of people saved. Of course, the downside to doing so is that I'd be a black hole ripping through space at a sizeable fraction of the speed of light, with no easy way to slow down until I rebuilt my body, which would take between five minutes and half an hour. The Sun is only just over eight light minutes away. I've been there. It's quite nice, really - very good for getting away from it all. But coming back would take a lot longer, even at half light speed - which is about as fast as I can get in space with my body intact, and expecting it to stay that way. I'd miss the landing force. Not really good to make it look like I'm fleeing the scene. So, once I again, I was forced to stick with my body, and stand and take whatever punishment was hurled my way. Just like always.
I twisted the dial on my wristwatch, which shifted me from my suit into my battlesuit - far more reasonable for fighting. As the suit's sensors came fully online, I saw a bomb thump into the tarmac nearby, and I braced myself for the explosion... which didn't happen. Debbie, standing stock-still in terror beside me, simply stared, and I knew I only had a few seconds before the bomb exploded, killing everyone near me. No time to reflect, no time to plan, no time for anything except action.
Drawing on the near-infinite reserves of energy within me, I channeled subatomic fury at the bomb, hoping to crack through the outer casing and fry the dense circuitry within, preventing it from going off. The warning lights that the Rikti thoughtfully installed on their explosives changed from an angry red to a pleasant secure blue in the couple of moments, and I knew that I had time. Time to spin around, drop my weight, and grab Debbie.
Well, that was the plan.
Agony exploded across my back as a Headman opened fire from a nearby rooftop.
"RUN!" My scream left my throat raw, and finally snapped Debbie out of her stupor. Just in time for her to run headlong into a Conscript and a Comm Officer. Choices, choices, choices. Tactically, the Headman was the biggest threat to me. Personally, the Comm Officer was about to open a standing portal through which many more Rikti would be able to enter the area, and Debbie was about to be killed very messily. Which meant it was no choice at all.
You see, the people of this city call me a hero. That's what it says on the license. Back home in England I'd be a 'Registered Super-powered Entity'. I don't think of myself as a hero. I'm just a man who has some abilities that mean I can cause a lot of damage in a very short space of time.
A LOT of damage.
A pulse of energy hit the Comms Officer in the face, knocking him to the ground. Darting forward, far in excess of local speed regulations - I'm embarrassed to admit that the broken window on the coffee shop was from the sonic boom, not from anything the Rikti did - my fist met the Conscripts stomach with every ounce I could muster. Overkill. My hand punched through his spine, but I was withdrawing it immediately, twisting myself into a spin, firing bolts of energy as fast as I could at the Comm Officer who was struggling to his feet, shaking his head dizzily. One, two, three blasts punched into him, and he stopped struggling. Grabbing Debbie by the arm, not caring how rough I was being, I turned to look at the Headman, launching an unstable sphere of particles in his general direction, hoping the explosion that would result on impact would distract him. Still moving, I dragged Debbie toward the shop, half turned and lifted her to barrel through the door.
It was then that I noticed. She was clutching at her stomach, her face twisted in agony. The ******* had shot her. Debbie, who was just getting to grips with life. Debbie who was oh-so in love with Justin. Debbie, who made a mean cappucino. Debbie, who always had a smile for me. Debbie, who had everything to look forward to. Debbie, who was now dying in my arms.
I slapped my personal med-beacon on her. She needed it more than me. What's half an hour without a body compared to a life snuffed out? I can recover, she can't. The equation is simple.
As she faded, heading for the local hospital's rejuvenation suite at my expense, I turned to face the Headman, who was once again aiming his cannon in my direction. Red rage filled me. I knew it for the destructive force it was, and I welcomed it. The Rikti may be human, but the minute they chose to take a life, they became my mortal enemies. Of course, I'm not exactly mortal these days.
I launched myself into the air, my anger boiling, urging me to feel the visceral sense of gratification that would course through me when I hit him. A blast from his cannon struck, and I simply absorbed it, revelling in the sick, stomach-twisting ripple as extra-dimensional energy was sucked inside. Turning up the volume on my suit's exterior speakers, I yelled at him, screamed, bellowed to let him know that his doom had come.
"You are DEAD!"
My fist tore toward him, and he twisted to avoid it, taking the blow on the shoulder. I heard bone snap, though whether it was in my hand or his arm I couldn't say. I slowed, and turned, and shifted my body partly into another world. A world that fills me with more terror than I'll ever admit to anyone. I slid inside the Headman's armour, and laughed.
"Welcome to my world. Goodbye."
And I let fly an explosion that would collapse a skyscraper.
* * * * *
{Later}
I limped into the hospital. No med-port beacon, and I was too weary to do anything other than walk slowly along. My suit was in a bit of a state, and I wasn't a lot better. Half an hour of solid fighting, scores of Rikti dead or fled, dozens of heroes mopping up the few remaining.
Inside, doctors and nurses were rushing around, tending to the injured, writing on notepads, checking the severity of injuries. A man with a limp was probably pretty low down the priority list, and I could feel the pain subsiding even as I walked.
I stepped up to the reception nurse, and gave her my most winning smile.
"Good morning. A young lady was med-ported in earlier, at the very start of the attack. Would I be able to see her, please?" I pulled out my hero license and handed it to her. She swiped it through a machine, which bleeped in response. "Ah, Shadowe, right? She's in Violet ward - that's private care. Is she family?"
I shook my head as she handed me the card back. "No, no, no. She's just a girl who works at my favourite coffee shop. Right place, right time and all that."
The nurse stared, not quite understanding, as I turned and walked away. I heard her whispering to a colleague. "That's Richard Huntington - he's got a victim of the attack in Violet ward on his own medical insurance, just because. That's the sort of heroism I like to see."
Hah. Heroism they call it. Well, perhaps doing the right thing is heroism. But I can't forget that I had to kill to be this 'hero'. And as much as I know it's necessary, as much as I know it's not going to stop any time soon, I can't forgive myself for the deaths. Even though I know I'll kill again. Kill to defend this world I love, and the people on it.
I don't feel like a hero. I feel like a monster.
The wisdom of Shadowe: Ghostraptor: The Shadowe is wise ...; FFM: Shadowe is no longer wise.
; Techbot_Alpha: Also, what Shadowe said. It seems he is still somewhat wise 
; Bull Throttle: Shadowe was unwise in this instance...; Rock_Powerfist: in this instance Shadowe is wise.; Techbot_Alpha: Shadowe is very wise *nods*; Zortel: *Quotable line about Shadowe being wise goes here.*
Paragon City
Her arm gave a slight whine and muscles in her back clenched as she lifted the remains of a car. Shifting it enough that she could access the secrets hidden below she marvelled no one had found this place before.
Well truth be told she could see why it might have been forgotten, if not for the way she saw the world, shed of passed it by if not for the urgings of the other voice in her mind.
Cant wait until I find out whats in there maybe something cool like a fridge. This is a good place to scavenge she mused to herself as she forced the car to a more stable position.
[Scavenge Query? This Intelligence: Perceives: you Are Merely Playing.]
She frowned the voice in her head had changed since shed tried to take her own life, itd become less sure of it self, less arrogant, less superior almost friendly in fact. Why it was doing this she didnt know, but secretly she believed it was just trying to lower her guard and take over again
Still it was proving helpful even if apparently saw itself far superior to humans, shed been scavenging for useful technology in the various dumps and junkyards around the city to make new equipment and repair the old, it was a job not playing, though truthfully it was really fun to do so.
And so eventually she arrived at this junkyard, shed given it a couple of looks over and not found anything worthwhile but the other voice in her head had.
It overlaid its senses with hers and pointed out the flow of energy underground. The amount directed to the centre of the junkyard was unnatural something was there under the mountain of rusting metal and broken appliances.
So shed started to dig, shifting cars, washing machines anything in the mountain of metal that would moved as she worked her way down.
Eventually she worked her way to ground level, camouflaged by the trash mountain was a concrete bunker, on the door was a sign she didnt recognise.
[Symbol Represents: Organisation: The Fifth Column]
She felt a brief shudder of excitement, a forgotten villains base.
Bet its full of all sorts of cool things she mused
[Probable Outcome: Danger] the voice of her machine parts supplied
She reached out for the door, but things changed and to days adventure was forgotten the clouds darkened and the sky became a sickly green, thunder rumbled and lightning arced across the tortured clouds.
Rikti the sense of excitement soured and for a few moments she felt like a normal little girl terrified by what was to come.
[Uploading GPS Files: Location Set: Closest Shelter]
She ran feeling the pull in the machine half of her brain, drawing her onwards to promised safety. Explosions rocked the earth and she felt in addition to the pull of safety an instinct that forced her to change her heading.
[Target: Avoidance: Rikti Ship]
The machine side of her mind was scanning as far it as it could plotting the routes of the strafing bombers.
She heard them before she saw them panicked people pilling in the safety shelter, the doors had to be small for security but it was causing panic.
She ran as the doors began to close and heard a woman scream, her child had fallen and the doors were closing.
[Proceed To the Entrance. Time Limited] the machine voice urged
She looked round and saw a small boy sobbing on the floor.
[There Is Insufficient Time] the voice informed her
She made a decision and ran to the boy, lifting him with her machine arm she dashed to wards the closing the doors managing to push him through just before the doors clanged shut with her on the outside.
[That Was: Mistake: Foolish] the voice advised her
The air around her crackled as the heavily armoured Rikti began teleporting from their ships.
Guess I go out like this huh? she thought as a blast of energy knocked her off her feet.
She could feel warmth running down her chest as she lay where she landed stunned.
Does this make up for it? she wondered as a large armoured figure walked towards her.
She closed her eyes and waited for the final blow.
[I REFUSE!] the voice in her mind screamed and she felt her self moving
She opened her eyes she wasting the Riktis weapon held in an iron grip the barrel still smoking , held so that it aimed over her.
[This: Intelligence: Can Not Survive: Without Biological: Component: Sarah Mc Kensie]
She could feel something flowing through what served as her blood, boiling and surging though her veins.
[This Intelligence: Refuses: To Die: Therefore: You Can Not]
Her body moved propelled by the machine using the bulk of the Rikti target to cover her from the fire of its allies.
[If This Intelligence: Takes Over Frame: This Intelligence Destroyed By:Dr Edward Johnson . Should This Intelligence: Remain Idle : Frame Destroyed By: Rikti]
The Rikti was struggling to free its weapon.
[You Wish Redemption Query? You Wish To Save More Lives Than You Have Taken Query? This Intelligence: Will Aid You: Will You Accept Query?]
She nodded then giving her acceptance, her senses changed and her mental time frame quickened as for the first time since :Dr Edward Johnson had revived her she accepted what she had become.
[Preparing: Combatus Protocols: Objective Query?] the voice intoned
She let go of the Rikti weapon and span round driving her metal fist into its stomach with all the force muscle and motor could provide. Unhooking a device from her belt she raised it into a combat position as the Rikti trooper toppled backwards stunned.
Objective Escape she silently commanded
[Acknowledged: Establish Escape Route: Establish Target: Attributes]
She rushed forward the machine half of her brain examining threats and her human side responding.
Some time later shed escaped and sat resting in an outlet to the sewer system.
Sigma she thought
[Query?]
Im going to need a costume she smiled for the first time since the incident.
The Rogue Islands.
The machine held the man against the wall with one hand. Hoisting him by his throat his struggling kicks occasionally hitting the machine.
[Command: Class O.R.A.C.L.E: Mutant Subject: 18-7-23. Is Not Of Required Psionic Strength]
<Dispose of him and return to closest safe house. We have incoming Rikti attacks>
[Acknowledged]
The machine drew back its fist and with a crunch ended the mans life. Close by another part of the over mind stood watching the darkening clouds with some intrest.
>Target: Class: Rikti: Posses : Technology: Possible Future Use
<Enquiry: Requisition Technology Query?
The two left the house and started walking towards an underground complex taken over by the TLF some time ago.
[Request: Permission: Engage Rikti: Purpose: Gather Technology] the over mind asked over its connection to O.R.A.C.L.E
The pair continued walking one was a little girl probably no older then eleven the second a figure that dwarfed most humans. Both drew no more attention than usual in the isles where glancing at some one the wrong way was likely to end your life.
Still even for the Isles the streets were deserted as even the animals began to hide in dread.
<Request denied. The Rikti are only to be engaged if they directly threaten a members life, other wise they are simply serving our purpose by erasing the weak for us> O.R.A.C.L.Es command was crisp and to the point
[Acknowledged]
The two headed towards the safe house as lightning flashed across the skies the sound of heavy artillery boomed as Arachnos installations across the island fired on the approaching ships.
>Situation: Similar: Assault: Heradillion City
<Slight: Differences: Tactical Situation: Must Be Altered
>Agreement
They marched onwards as around them bombs fell and people died. They were approaching the entrance to the bunker when the first wave of the invading ground forces appeared.
The sound of whirring gears came from the girl and metal seeped from cut in her flesh, within seconds she resembled a smaller version of the giant humanoid machine
>Combatus: Protocols: Loaded: Scriptus Tacticus: Verse Seven Active
<Combatus: Protocols: Loaded: Scriptus Tacticus: Verse Ten Active
Several Rikti soldiers appeared close by, blocking their path to the bunker. One raised his weapon to aim at the pair and was left instantly with a glowing smoking hole in his torso.
Gears roared as the large machine fell on the other Rikti tearing and smashing them with incredible strength. The girl provided back up fire the cannons on her arms blasting through flesh and armour alike. As they fought the pair drew closer to the bunker.
The doors sealed behind them and they descended into the depths of the earth.
Brawling Cactus from a distant planet.
Rikti drop ship Bomber category #7565
0900 hours, earth
A small crack could be heard along the hull of the ship, various foot soldiers turned around to see a small hole in the hull.
On the outside of the ship, Psionic Song was pulling bits of the hull apart with telekinesis, attempting to get inside the monstrosity.
One particular soldier came to the hole to observe the mess.
Damage: Minimal, Repairs: Not Priori- The soldier was cut off mid flow as an unseen force grabbed him and threw him from the ships interior.
The other troops looked at one another and then turned their guns on the hole in the hull.
Psionic held a shield strong against the onslaught of blasts. Glaring a hole in space and time opened behind the soldiers pulling them in, then catapulting them out beyond the earths ozone layer.
Psionic sighed, the sound lost against the engines roar and floated inside the hole closing it behind him.
-
Intruder: Present, Threat: Minimal a rikti soldier at the front of the control room stated unemotionally.
Target: Unknown Male, Status: Alive, Desired Status: Eradicated Dravorkan, a large rikti, seemingly in command of the ship stated hollowly, at the end of his sentence various noises could be heard throughout the ship, mainly of weapons being locked and loaded and foot soldiers moving along the corridors to where the intruder had been recorded moving.
-
Sam (Psionic) hovered quietly along the corridor checking left and right whilst sending telepathic pulses out to check for rikti troops. There, behind the wall, guns loaded, drones ready and brains engaged, the troops waited.
A blast of energy rang out throughout the ships hull, guns rained down on Sam, the alien technology still being unable to punch through his telekinetic barriers.
Gona have to do better than that
Sam smirked ripping a chunk of the floor up slamming it into half of the group, at that point Sam felt a clawing in his brain, a mentalist was trying to get in.
Not today
Sams voice echoed loudly in his head, the mentalist grabbed its head screeching in pain as its brain became overloaded with masses of useless information causing it to black out.
Commands echoed telepathically throughout the ship.
Target: Psionic male, Orders: New, Orders: Capture, State: living, Conditions: Alive only.
Sam looked up, more troops were stood in the absence of the last lot, their weapons sending blue pulses of energy at him, as far as he could tell this must be a stun weapon, or some sort of neural override.
He jumped to his feet dodging a few shots and shielding the next hail.
Your not my issue.. He extended an arm which caused the troops to be lifted from the ground and flail about in the air aimlessly before being thrown through a now opening hole in the hull of the ship.
Target: Troublesome, Threat level: Substantial
Thats more like it Sam thought to himself. Too loud.
A chief mentalist had picked up on his thoughts down the corridor to the left and instantly sent messages to the other troops nearby.
Sam glared at the corridor which the troops were running down causing the walls to buckle and strain under the telekinetic energies crushing the troops between them.
Sorry about that. He grinned and turned to the main door to the bridge
Sam held his hands palm forwards in the air staring at the door, metal cried out as it was torn apart molecule from molecule and throw effortlessly aside.
Dravorkan turned to observe the door with the red haired teen hovering in the opening.
The rikti almost grinned, if it was able to Target: Human Male, Query: Why attempt, impossible
Sam simply stared at the creature Because, its time this war ended.
Humans: Inferior, Choose: Bow down, be destroyed
I choose neither Sam lifted what was left of the door and hurled it at the Rikti
Dravorkan chuckled in a telepathic wave and an unemotional tone, stopping the door in mid air.
Human: Weak, Psionic Capacity: Strong, Capture: mandatory
Sam shouted ripping out parts of the wall from behind him, flinging them at Dravorkan, he again stopped them in mid air and flung them behind him shattering some control units.
Dravorkan turned to his left causing two large blades witted with energy cannons to the base to come flying into his hands.
Sams eyes widened as he dodged the blast of energy, which burst another hole in the hull some fifty feet, down the corridor.
He then made a circular motion with his hands a wormhole like structure appearing behind Dravorkan although seeming to have no gravity pull on the hulking mass of a Rikti.
Dravorkan laughed telepathically once more and grabbed for Sam telekinetically.
Sam was pulled straight into Dravorkans clawed hand, his pungent smell almost enough to make Sam want to pass out.
Human Life: Expendable Dravorkan turned holding Sams back to the wormhole.
Sam desperately tried to close the portal as Dravorkan held him ever closer to it.
Status: Non-conforming, Punishment: Pain Dravorkan held Sam so his arm was being pulled by the worm hole, Sam shouted out in pain.
Flesh tore from bone, muscle from that and with a terrible tearing noise Sams arm was pulled into the wormhole.
Dravorkan threw Sam at the wall.
Blue sparks erupted from the damaged tissue attempting to reconstruct the arm but to no avail, Sams healing had always been more potent on other people than himself, the most he could do was stop the bleeding.
Sam was breathing heavily in pain Youll
youll lose
Rikti: Superior, Defeat: Impossibility Dravorkan stated almost proudly.
Think again
genious
Sam smirked as the worm hole lurched forwards engulfing Dravorkan.
In a telepathic rage the rikti screamed out orders across the ship
but there was no one to receive them.
-
Sam left the ship as soon as possible, the worm hole now pulling the hull into itself.
He retreated to a safe distance before allowing the wormhole to pull the whole ship in on itself and then closed it.
Sam sighed in relief then looked at the remains of his arm.
He felt sick, floating slowly back down to the ground he headed for the hospital.
A small, stocky, sand-haired man in the red uniform of a Longbow nullifier put his hand between the shoulders of the nervous looking young man beside him and led him gently over the rubble-strewn sidewalk. The mans right hand clutched the left of a tiny little boy, no more than two or three years old, and whose own right hand clung to the paw of a teddy-bear called Barney. Barney was already showing the signs of loving wear and tear, and the childs right hand gripped him almost as tightly as his left was locked into his fathers. The man and his son stepped out of the ring of yellow plastic sheets that were dotted amidst the rubble in an almost perfect circle. The boy watched as sticky liquid ran in small rivulets from under the sheets to drain into the dust and broken concrete. He watched as men in red and white uniforms draped a yellow sheet over the last of the fallen, torn, giant monsters. And he watched as his father and he were led to the side of the road, where a pretty young lady with hair the colour of chestnuts wrapped a blanket over his shoulders and gave him a drink that tasted of oranges.
OK Pete, the sand-haired man said to the boys father, tell Warden Grimes what you just told me.
Warden Grimes was very tall. Much taller than his father, and very stern, the boy thought. He wore a helmet and a cloak over his red-and-white. The boy looked up at his father, and remembered how he looked in his own Longbow uniform. Maybe this Warden was his fathers boss?
Good morning, sir, his father said.
Morning, Pete, said the Warden. Way to spend your off-duty time.
Yeh, the boys father grinned, but not happily like when they played. Little Pete and I were caught out in the street when the alarms sounded we were running home when it happened
The boy watched as his father started to grow agitated, until the lady with the blanket came back and passed plastic cups around the men.
Take your time, Pete, the warden said gently, dont worry
just take your time
its all OK now
----0----
Leatherette took a deep, deep breath and heaved a heavy sigh as she tried to quell the almighty irritation she felt. She had been counting notes when the sirens blaring caused her to lose count for the third time in 5 minutes. Shed taken the notes from the safe of a Marcone family casino; counting them was slow because they were so filthy and crumpled: no other money since Croesus had ever needed laundering quite so urgently. Rette grit her teeth and swore. There was no point in doing this now. It had been a beautiful day, and the roof top was quiet and warm. Until those damn dropships appeared. Shed have to find somewhere else to do this now
Stuffing the notes back into their canvas hold-all, she stared across the islands in the direction of the empty officeblock she temporarily called home. She sighed again and lifted herself into the air, and started to fly across the green sky.
Rikti bombs and Rikti troops were dropping everywhere. She saw the lights of their teleport beams streaking through the sky to the streets below. Bombs occasionally erupted amidst the buildings below her, but Rette just grunted with contempt and flew on. The dust and soot of the blasted streets was filling the air, but she knew she could fly no higher without coming under the guns of the damn dropships, so she flew low, clamping her mouth tightly shut and blowing the stench and the soot and the dust out of her nostrils.
It was oddly quiet below her. Yes there was weapons fire, and the shouts and yells of angry men and women bringing their own destructive resources to bear on the swarming aliens but the sounds of everyday life had gone. Voices that you could swear you had heard forever were gone. Sounds that hummed so constantly in your ears you never heard them until they were stilled.
Maybe thats why Rette heard the childs crying amidst the boom of the war beow her. It was unique.
She could not see the child clearly, but she saw the bear lying in the dirt and dust of a shattered storefront, and she saw the man shielding the boy with his body. Rette saw maybe a dozen, maybe more, Rikti materialize around them in a circle. The Chief Soldier was raising his weapon
----0----
As far as we can gauge, something just tore their heads clean off. The Warden was staring now at the yellow plastic shrouds over the fallen aliens, flapping in the light breeze. It was like some kind of animal just
well
I didnt really see what happened, sir
I just saw that they were going to kill us and I tried to protect Little Pete as best I could by shielding him
I didnt see what killed them
Just that their heads were
gone
?
Yes sir, when I looked up like some animal had just upped and ripped their heads clean off.
Warden Grimes took off his helmet and scratched his shaven head. "Thirteen decapitated Rikti, arranged in a circle... Do you smell 'Cult' as much as I do, Pete?"
"Well if it looks like magic, and it smells like magic..." supposed Little Pete's father.
The MAGI guys have detected something magic was here
offered the Nullifier.
The Warden shrugged. Well there are no Rikti heads lying around. I guess maybe something just vaporized them
Barney killed them! shouted the boy, holding aloft his bear. The angel came and Barney saved us! He killed them and he ate their heads!
The Warden knelt before the boy and asked May I see Barney?
Little Pete lifted the bear and let the Warden take him. His father had told the story as best he could, but there was so much that neither he nor they could understand, because none of them had seen it. Little Pete had seen it though. The giant monsters were stopped. The angel came and gave them such a headache that they couldnt move. Then she picked Barney up from the ground and dusted him off. He watched the angel from behind his father as she looked at Barney, and Barney must have made her happy because she smiled as she turned to look around the circle of giant monsters. Little Pete didnt look up again until after the angel had placed Barney back in his hand.
By then the monsters were dead.
Little Pete, would you mind if I looked after Barney for a while? asked the Warden.
Sir? asked the boys father.
Warden Grimes passed the bear to the Nullifier, Maybe Im clutching at straws but Ive seen enough weird stuff in this job that I just
just
Just ask MAGI to take a look at the bear, will you?
The Nullifier took the bear and left. He had the discipline not to shake his head in disbelief. Little Pete watched the man and bear go. The Warden knelt down again Well get Barney back to you as soon as we can, son
I dont want him anymore, said Little Pete. Im gunna get a new one.
The Warden grinned at the boys father as he straightened up, acknowledging that a new bear was the least the man could do for his son after their ordeal.
Im gunna get a new one myself! said Little Pete, plunging his hand into his pocket and pulling out a hundred-dollar bill.
It was filthy.
It was crumpled.
And it was the gift of an angel.
The sirens hadn't sounded in King's Row for days. At first, people in Paragon City were hesitant to believe the Rikti had retreated from their main assault, and then, a sense of elation spread across the populace. They had won; the Rikti were beaten back, and save for the odd skirmish and the Warzone activity, they seemed cowed and defeated.
Celebrations broke out in the bomb-wrecked streets, and politicians made speeches. Jean-Luc opened his club in a Jazz-festival style of elation, and pots simmered on the stove with plenty for everyone to eat. He watched civilians dance with heroes, and heard the swagger in the voices of the victorious; filled with bravado and daring as always was the case in such matters, but for one or two pairs of haunted eyes here and there. One or two who had already seen too much, one or two who were haunted by nightmares and screams. One more orphan, one more widow, one more statue to a hero who had come to the end of the line.
And Jean-Luc watched, and cooked, and smiled, and nodded...but he couldn't join the festive spirit.
Dat weren't right...nonna dat was right. Somethin' goin' down, we was bein' tested...an' now dey gonna jus' be quiet an' wait....
Jean-Luc brooded, and drank, and thought, and tried to blow bubbles but even that didn't work. He paced, and he thought some more, and then finally one evening, he stuffed a small metal box into his pocket, clambered onto "Wife Number 1", fired up the beast of a bike and made his way to the nearest Vanguard DPO.
The DPO was abustle with activity, and he was rather surprised at how parkish the place looked; Atlas City was rather flash to Jean-Luc's mind anyway, but the image of the Vanguard office was almost like being inside a fancy Parisian salon - or at least right up to the grey-armoured contacts moving hither and thither; a strange contrast of paradise and war with jarred his senses slightly.
The office was crammed with heroes; many of them very young as well. Like young people signing up to the military, they'd had a small taste of action and thought merely of the rush - the reality hadn't sunk in yet. Even though they were encased in armour suits, the body language of the Vanguard staff hinted they'd seen it all before, and viewed such bravado with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
Jean-Luc elbowed his way through the crowd toward the main desk, where the Vanguard operative turned his/her armour-encased head toward him with a rather terse, "Oh, another one."
Jean-Luc's golden eyes narrowed slightly, though there was a smile on his lips. "I 'spose sayin' I'm here to sign up would jus' make y'all throw your hands up in de air an pray for mercy, non?"
The Vanguard operative sighed, slapping down his clipboard. "Yeah, you may as well get in line. Every kid who slapped a Rikti last week has been coming in here wanting another shot. If they don't panic when they finally get in there -"
"Dey will be dead in six weeks, oui, I know." Jean-Luc nodded. "Still, I sorta obliged." The Creole reached into the inner pocket of his leather jacket and held the metal box in his hand. He couldn't see the Op's face, but he did see the helmeted head do a double-take.
"Whoa - is that -? That's classified priority, Mister, how did you get ahold of one of those?"
"Classified," Jean-Luc said with a wink.
The Op picked the box up and placed it beneath some sort of scanning device on the desk. Jean-Luc had no idea what it did, but a scroll of numbers flashed across the Vanguard soldier's visor, and the Op nodded.
"Ah, right, Loup Garou, right? You're registered to this. Huh...guess they're expecting you, my friend, so you get to shoot to the front of the queue, may your deity of choice have mercy on your soul."
"Mesi bien," Jean-Luc replied as he took the proffered cube and tucked it back into his coat, turning toward the portal entry to the Vanguard HQ.
"Hey."
Jean-Luc looked over his shoulder, his brows raised. "Quoi?"
The Op nodded to him, his voice quiet. "You take care."
How many people he see come in here? How many he know ain't gonna make it out? Don' look at dere faces, don' ask dere names...half of dese kids are walkin' dead, and dey don't even know it. So...don' think of dem as people...don' talk to 'em.
Jean-Luc nodded solemnly back. "Mesi...bonswa, man."
**********
The next twenty four hours was a haze; he met a sea of faces, half of them he forgot within a few hours, though he had already memorized their scents and their offices. He marvelled at equipment whose function he could only guess at, and noticed with some surprise there were villains from the Isles here as well. There was tension in the air from the new recruits who eyed one another with vitriolic gazes, but the vets came and went without even a glance askance. It was true enough - this was war, and it really didn't matter who was out there as long as they were willing to help.
As eager as he was to get started, he had to bide his time; he was put through test after test, both in human form, in his lycan shape, and in the suit. The suit was tested and retested, tweaked, adjusted, modified and then tested again. He exercised till he was sore and weary, but his nerves were singing. In here, his suspicions were being confirmed.
Somethin' goin' down...somethin' big. I'm gonna be a part of it.
Ragefang...you watchin'? You see dis...de Creole gonna do his best, man, or die tryin'.
(One of my favourite activities ingame is battling Rikti; not sure what it is about beating up those guys, but it always puts a smile on my face, and as a result Loup Garou has a particular loathing of them, literally dropping whatever he's doing at the moment to fight them. I've been hankering for a fight in an invasion since my return, and what should occur but a HUGE invasion force, hitting nearly every city ingame. I managed to aid in fighting off not one, but three different invasions. Very cool!
Anyway, if you were in the fight, or even if you weren't there in the flesh, feel free to post the butt-whooping your character was doing at the time, or perceptions thereto.
Cheers)