Now... just have to know when...
Disclaimer: The above may be humerous, or at least may be an attempt at humour. Try reading it that way.
Posts are OOC unless noted to be IC, or in an IC thread.
When would you like it to be? About the only reason I didn't set it for today is because I know Annette's out of State.
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.* She's a busy girl... lunch with Richard tomorrow, Thursday lessons with Dinah... Friday?
Disclaimer: The above may be humerous, or at least may be an attempt at humour. Try reading it that way.
Posts are OOC unless noted to be IC, or in an IC thread.
I suddenly get a flash of 2 Richards at the statue....
"I'M Richard!"
"He's lying! I'M Richard!"
That should be confusing...and interesting....and sertainly funny too!
CoH Fan-Art Sale still several slots open!
Read my in-game stories and check out my DeviantART page.
- coXso - It was a memorable time filled with art!
Read my in-game stories and check out my DeviantART page.
- coXso - It was a memorable time filled with art!
I'm wondering if he might be sneakier and more subtle than that, but if he does, then we'll have to pull the I am Spartacus routine.
Disclaimer: The above may be humerous, or at least may be an attempt at humour. Try reading it that way.
Posts are OOC unless noted to be IC, or in an IC thread.
I think you can safely assume that Andrew is a little more subtle than that. If/when I turn up with him, there will be clues, but they might not be obvious.
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.*
Well, Ravenswing shouldn't bemoan people not writing stories with his characters in. I'll leave other people to continue to Future Imperfect stories, which are awesome so far, until I think of something I feel is worth doing, and continue with present-day tales of my main, Shadowe, and his arch-nemesis, Psychonova. Huge thanks to Birdy for letting me nick his character, though, and for the help on her thought processes.
{Rikti War Zone, the near future, early afternoon}
High overhead, a tiny speck started to grow in size. It looked like a meteor, with a sparking trail against the cloudy sky, spearing down into the centre of a huge mass of Rikti soldiers. Anyone caught in the middle of that crowd was clearly in extreme danger - and Nitoichi was right in the middle of it, blades dancing with stunning grace, speed and precision, every cut and thrust potentially lethal, no movement wasted.
But the press of bodies around her was starting to tell. She'd been fighting for what seemed an eternity, and had been lured into a simple trap. It had looked an easy fight - half a dozen of the enemy battering at a downed Vanguard tank. She'd leapt at them, and then the hidden Comms Officers had sprung the trap. A dozen portals opened up, and the horde surrounding her had stepped through. She'd taken a second to curse herself, and then got down to business. A business that had lasted far too long, and she could feel the adrenaline starting to wear off, her arms getting heavier by the second. She'd taken out at least thirty of her foes, but there were still more... and the portals were still open.
THUD.
Right behind her.
Risking a glance, she was just in time to see a pair of arms reaching for her, and she reverse-thrust one of her blades. She felt the impact, and allowed herself a tight grin, which faded as she heard the all-too-human grunt of pain. She was so startled that she barely noticed the arms enfolding her, curling her up into a ball, but she recognised the black armour, and horror gripped her as she knew what she'd done...
"Rich-" she began, a cry of anguish that ended when she heard one word.
"Boo."
Safely cocooned in his arms, she felt barely a tingle, but the Rikti were another matter. Wave after wave of energy pulsed out from him in a cacophanous explosion. The Rikti were hurled back as if they had hit a wall, limbs flailing as they pinwheeled through the air. Richard slumped against her and she deactivated her Talsorian blades so that she could support him without risk.
"Rich? You okay?" His damned helmet visor made it impossible to see his face, but the slackness of his limbs, despite their twitching, made for a pretty clear indicator that he wasn't.
A Chief Soldier rose to his feet nearby, his armour scorched and twisted, his movements jerky and uncertain, and he raised his sword-gun, aiming for her and the man in her arms.
"Oh, no. You don't get to play." Rich would just have to forgive her, she thought, as she sprang away and her blades sprang to life once more, leaving him to collapse to the floor. The gun tracked towards her, and she darted from side to side in an effort to throw off her opponent's aim as she closed on him. She dodged one shot, then a second. By the time he was ready to fire a third, she was close enough, and he swung his sword-gun at her in a vicious arc, which she stepped under, and thrust, her blades slipping through his armour like it wasn't there.
Even she was a little startled, though, by the sight of an armoured fist emerging from the Rikti's faceplate.
"What the...?"
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a battle-suit was standing there. The armour looked a bit like Richard's, actually, though with some red highlighting that seemed incongruously cheerful.
"Don' trouble yerself, pet. Ah'm here to lend a hand, is all," he said, the speakers on the suit unable to disguise his drawling accent. "Ah can keep the Rikti psychics busy fer a while, an' yer can either finish 'em off, or yer can get Dicky-boy, there, outta here. It's yer choice."
Her choice. Yeah, right. It was no choice at all. Fighting Rikti was fun, but that was Richard. Heck, with Annette bouncing around in her skull demanding that she make sure Rich was kept safe, it was a foregone conclusion. "So, you're psychic, then?" she asked the stranger.
"Ah have a few tricks up mah sleeve, pet. Like Ah said, Ah can keep 'em busy fer a while."
With a nod, Nitoichi turned, and strode swiftly toward the fallen form of Shadowe. As she knelt beside him and examined the hole she'd punctured in his breastplate - no blood - she heard a wailing roar, and the man in red launched a pulse of energy from his arm, into the skull of another downed Rikti soldier. She felt Annette coldly watching through her eyes, but Nitoichi's blood suddenly ran cold.
... Dicky-boy, there...
...You're psychic, then?
Ah have a few tricks up mah sleeve...
"Who are you?" she hissed between clenched teeth, a terrible suspicion forming in her heart. The helmeted head turned to face her, despite the fact that there was no way he could have heard her words, even with the sort of sophisticated audio-enhancement technology she knew was built into Richard's suit. She could almost see the smirk on the blonde-haired face that she now knew to be behind that visor.
"Get him outta here, pet!" he called out, and she heard the sarcastic disdain dripping from his voice. "They'll be wakin' up soon, an' Ah can't hold 'em off ferever."
Nitoichi watched, sick to her stomach, as he methodically walked around the area, and she thought she could hear words as he stepped from one Rikti to another, killing them with single blasts of energy.
"This little Rikti went ter market. This little Rikti shoulda stayed at home. This little Rikti had his mind torn up. This little Rikti has none. An' this little Rikti's goin' ter be mah present ter mah old boss. Hello, Hra'k'ult. Long time, no see. Are yer ready ter go wee-wee-wee all the way ter his home?"
Nitoichi fought a brief internal battle, torn between a desire to see Richard safe, and a need to smash the other man into a pulp, no matter the cost.
"Don't."
The word, spoken in a familiar English accent, laced with pain and exhaustion, made the decision even easier. She looked down at Richard, and helped him to his feet. "I wasn't really planning to, Rich. Oh, it's tempting, but I know when I'm outgunned."
"I'm glad to hear it." He reached up and tore the helmet from his head, and all she saw in his eyes was steely resolve, with no hint of the pain he must be feeling. "Get me to Elizabeth, Ni. I need to talk to her."
Confusion flickered across Nitoichi's face, as she led him away from the scene of the fight. "Elizabeth? Who's Elizabeth?" she demanded.
"Elizabeth Gray. Lady Gray. I want a word with her. Oh, and Ni?"
At his questioning tone, she turned to look at him, distractedly enquiring what he wanted, when he held her head in his hands and kissed her, softly.
"Thanks for leaving me to go and deal with the survivors. I owe you, for that," he murmured, before he kissed her again.
Her breath caught for a moment, and Nitoichi flinched as she felt his lips on hers. Emotions roiled within her, and she heard Annette clearly in her mind, alternately whispering for her to give in and pull away. It was the first time Richard had ever kissed her, rather than Annette, and the sensation was electrifying. She wanted to kiss him back, take him there and then, satisfy her desire, scream at him for setting a fire within her, scream with him as they quenched the fire in passion... and the sensation still burned when he pulled away, and smiled at her, a hint of apology in his eyes.
"Still love you, my dear."
I'm glad it was me, not you, in the hot tub that time, Ni. Annette's voice in her head was husky with emotion, and Ni mentally nodded, very well aware that if it had been her, then things might have gone a lot further than they did... and not really caring if they had.
"Love you, too, Rich." You *******. Falling in love with another woman before I could have you. "Let's get you to 'Elizabeth'."
And the pair of them trudged across the wasteland, heading for the Vanguard compound.
* * * * *
"How did it go?" The gravelly voice spoke from the dark confines of a hidden chamber. It was clearly the voice of a woman, but she took great pains to disguise herself, never appearing in enough light to identify her, and growling her words.
"About as well as can be expected, Ma'am. Dicky came ter her rescue, just like yer thought he would. Knight in shining armour, looks ter me like he was goin' fer." Andrew Martin, or Psychonova as he preferred these days, lounged comfortably on a leather chair in a hotel suite and spoke over the video-phone. "Ah reckon she's a good choice, actually."
"Somehow I thought you might. Which is why she isn't the target." The woman raised a remote control console and pushed a button. "She is." The image on Andrew's monitor shifted, and he blinked in surprise.
"Yer not after makin' this easy fer me, are yer? Do yer have any idea how tough it's gonna be ter get ter her?"
"I have every confidence in your skill, Mr Martin. And the skills of your pets."
On impulse, Andrew sent a probing thought out to his spy in Huntington Manor, caressing her mind with his own, feeling her affection in return. A man meant to rule the world needed servants to manage the task, and it was far easier to force them to adore him than it was to work for that adoration. As long as he was clever, and crept below the radar of such powerful telepathic beings as Sister Psyche, or Miss Yin, he had free reign over the entire population of the city. He could have had himself elected mayor by now, had he wanted to.
"They'll do the job, Ma'am. And if not the first time... well, I can always find more pets." He thought back to the fragmented mind he had encountered earlier. There were walls there, barriers so strong it would take him an age to batter through them... but the gap between those minds. Oh, that was a place he could plant a seed, and let it grow, if he could get close enough to her.
If his current pets failed, then he would take the time to get a new plaything. And one of Richard's girls would be far, far sweeter than anything else.
He didn't even notice as the woman ended the video-call, so lost was he in the images fluttering through his head, and he reached out a tendril of thought, searching for, and finding, the one he sought. Locked up tight, but there were ways. Oh, yes. There were ways.
Rising to his feet, he stepped over to the full-length mirror, and his brow furrowed in concentration. It wasn't easy, this trick. The change was uncomfortable, and took a bit to maintain. It was a power he doubted that Richard had, because Richard didn't know what it was like to posess another's mind, to own their thoughts, and Richard only wanted to be... Richard.
The image in the mirror had changed. No longer was a tall, broad, blond-haired man with craggy features standing there. Instead, a shorter, dark-haired man, slender, not muscled, and handsome in a pompous sort of way looked back at him, ridiculous in oversized clothes.
"Well, hello, Richard."
The voice was not Andrew's, and he laughed - it was the voice of the man in the mirror.
The wisdom of Shadowe: Ghostraptor: The Shadowe is wise ...; FFM: Shadowe is no longer wise.