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PostPosted: Wed Apr 23, 2008 3:32 am 
Dance Puppets Dance
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The nuclear fires subsided as the power was drained away by the would-be god and the power-hungry meta. The last ergs vanished to the unquenchable thirsts of the pair. The lights flickered and died, their final brightness fading to black. The chamber was cast into darkness, the echos of fans ceasing as they spun down.

For a brief moment, a single monitor lit up, displaying what could have been a face, though it was digitized and fading in and out as backup power systems emptied. The face appeared female and bemused before disappearing.

Up above on the surface the machines still continued their deadly work. Slowly but surely the Ultima forces and military jets were winning over the mechanized army. It seemed like the fight had gone out of the robots, and were without clear direction any longer.

-------------
"You know, for a team that is suppose to be keeping a low profile, they sure do know how to make a scene."
"Hmmm. I agree. I just wonder what's happened to them. Blackheart wasn't there."
"Maybe we just didn't see him. News coverage is a bit spotty there at the moment. Hell, we're lucky we're getting the few feeds that we're getting."
"True, that's certainly possible."
"Well at least they're still alive. That's something, right?"
"Yeah, it is at that. Let's hope that Blackheart can keep them that way. I want them back here as soon as possible."
"As soon as we're finished dealing with the rest of the problems. At least the other team is spinning up nicely."
"The new strikeforce? Talon, isn't it?"
"Yeah, that's them."
"Put them on standby as soon as possible. With this latest fiasco with Gazer, the shit is going to hit the fan."
"Already on it. Oh, the police chief gave a statement today about that."
"Yeah, I saw. About as empty a proclaimation as you can get. Do we have any word on what's really happening?"
"Nothing yet. Though we have a few ideas. Did you know that Gazer killed Ghost's wife in that scuffle of his earlier?"
"I heard something like that, didn't know it was Ghost though. Think he could have done it?"
"Well, it's possible. He could have killed the man, but the way the body looked... just not something he's capable of."
"The other one then? What was his name? The Japanese one...Kyotae?"
"Kyosuke. The transfer from Ashai. And he hasn't been seen in awhile."
"Figures. Wish I could just set them down in the chair and look in their heads. It'd solve the whole issue."
"Yeah, but trying to get that to hold up in court without the forms is like getting Congress to agree on something. You know that."

The man smirked and gave a soft half-chuckle.
"True. But I could always make them listen to reason..."

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PostPosted: Wed Apr 23, 2008 9:31 am 
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It was a hunt.

Plain and simple, ever since he had left Ghost's apartment, he had gone back into the city. It wasn't long before he came across a Meta abusing their power, robbing a store.

The Meta was smalltime, really, and it's power wasn't very great at all. From the looks of it, the Meta's power was the ability to move on vertical surfaces.

Clothed in a new variation of his former Saibot costume, itself a variation on his costume as a the Guardian, Saibot had trailed the meta-thief. Still a body hugging suit, the dark grey outfit was more suited to the shadows and darkness, what looked like armor padding was beneath the spandex looking material - all the better to absorb impacts. On his shoulders and chest was a dull gunmetal colored triangular shield. The Helmet was still reminscent of his Guardian Helmet, full head enclosing, a dark slidable visor covered his eyes - giving him a HUD display -. though the rest was perfectly blank. It was hard to even tell where the visor was, as the blackness of the visor blended in well with the helmet.


He wouldn't strike until the meta was in a deserted area. It'd be no use to harm innocents people.

Are any of them, really, innocent?

"Of course" he whispered to himself, "Those without Powers are innocent. They cannot defend themselves against those with a active Meta-gene."

No, there are no innocent. They all are guilty. Humans are greedy, vile species. They kill each other, meta-gene or not.

"I protect them...."

We will protect them....humans are to chaotic to trust by themselves.....

So lost in talking to himself, Garth almost missed the meta ducking into a abandoned building. Garth set down not far from where the meta walked in, and beneath the helmet, he smirked. The building was old, condemned it looked like - windows boarded up, the cracks in the board showed no glass.

Well, All the easier. A quick scan with his Ring revealed the path the Meta entered, and Garth floated up to it. The glow was muted, the faint blue glow just seemed to outline his silhouette, not cover his entire form - and even then, the glow didn't extend from the pencil thin outline. A beam of energy from the Ring removed the boards blocking his entrance into the building, and he floated after his quarry.

Finding the meta was simple as could be, the Ring scanned for the Meta-gene activated DNA trail, and he followed it deeper into the dilapidated structure.

He found the Meta hunched over a table, breathing hard, and looking over the money he stole.

"Return the money, or face judgement."

The deep, gravily voice startled the Meta, the mutant spun around, a gun in his hand in desperate searching. A beam of blue energy struck out, slicing off the gunhand, as it clattered to the floor.

The Meta screamed in pain as he collapsed to the floor, clutching the smoking stump where his hand once was.

"My fucking hand!" the meta screamed, "You fucking cut off my hand!"

Garth stepped forward, closer to the Meta, letting the man see his entire form, "You have been judged. You use your powers to criminal purposes. You do harm to society. You are Guilty."

Garth raised the Ring up, aiming it at the Meta. The Meta's eyes opened wide, his mouth opening in a silent scream which would never be heard, as a beam of energy bored into his forehead, and blew out the back of his skull.

The dead body slid to the ground, and the Ring's energy scooped it up in a bubble. The money was gathered in another bubble. The man in black floated back out the window, with the money and the body of the robber in tow.



---------------------------


Ten minutes after, the body of the thief was crucified upon the outer wall motor pool of the MCPD's main precient, right above where the police cars entered and exited. The body was mutilated, the corpse's bones where shattered into fine dust within the frame, only rigor mortis kept the body somewhat rigid. It was staked to the concrete wall with rebar once more. The only difference to this body...

Was the missing head.

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Allen Thibodaux | Archmagus | Supervillain | Transfan | Trekker | Warsie |
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"Then again, Detective....how often have you dreamed of hearing your father's voice once more? Of feeling your mother's touch?" - Ra's Al Ghul
"According to the Bible, IHVH created the Universe in six days....he obviously didn't know what he was doing." - Darek Steele bani Order of Hermes.
DS's Golden Rule: I am not a bigot, I hate everyone equally. | corollary: Some are more equal than others.


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PostPosted: Wed Apr 23, 2008 6:53 pm 
The All-Seeing Eye
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"Time's up." Gravitas groaned, as another part of his skin burst, revealing no blood or gore, simply crystal weaving it's way around it's immediate area. "Time to leave. Blast. Focus. You must focus. You have the power. Get the others. I will be in hibernation soon, and we must gate away first."

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Tev: You're happy. You're Plotting. You're Evil.
Me: Evil is so inappropriate. I'm ruthless.
Tev: You're turning me on.

I Am Rage. You Will Know My Fury.


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 24, 2008 12:58 am 
The Artist formerly known as Rhoenix
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Alexander, now that he wasn't feeling as strained, was observing the rapid change in tactics the cyborg legion was using against their would-be savior. The legion was adapting to the stranger's tactics just as quickly as they adapted to his, when he was feeling a bit more frisky.

Now however, he couldn't help but notice that the legion was timing and aiming their shots with the precision and rapidity of one who isn't expecting any drastic changes in their environment. This almost made him smile - he'd certainly introduced a few "environmental changes" when he felt more spry, only an hour or so ago.

However, seeing as the cyborg legion was now aiming their fusillade of laser-weapons fire directly behind and ahead of the newcomer, Alexander saw an opportunity for mischief. Given how precise the AI was directing the fire of the cyborgs, some of the laser shots missed others of the legion by fractions of an inch at times.

Concentrating as soon as he felt a build-up of a laser weapon about to be fired by one of the legion, he "pushed" the beam about five degrees to the right, striking one of the other legion in the back of the head. This time, Alexander did give a half-smile - he might be injured, but he could still help out his would-be rescuer in small ways.

The intentional mis-fire of one of the cyborg legion gave all of them pause for a moment or two; no doubt so the AI could properly say "What the fuck?" in raw binary. It didn't take long for the laser fire to resume, though at a more cautious rate of fire this time. Once again, Alexander didn't rush his mischief - he picked his specific cyborg victim well. And once again, another of the cyborg legion crumpled to the ground, this one falling through one of the larger cracks in the roof.

Once again, the weapons fire on the other side of the roof stopped momentarily. Alexander would be patient.

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"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."

- William Gibson


Josh wrote:
What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 24, 2008 6:57 pm 
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"Time to leave. Blast. Focus. You must focus. You have the power. Get the others. I will be in hibernation soon, and we must gate away first."


He had burned away most of the power, the megalomania of godhood was drifting away with it, leaving behind pain and soreness. His head rang like a bell, his guts roiled and churned, his throat and mouth felt like someone had poured sand down them, his eyes felt gummy. His muscles ached. Everything seemed laid over with shifting auras that produced a doubling effect, even trying to use the *sight* sent lances of pain through his head and eyes.

"Rrrrr... right." He rasped and fired off two quick bursts into the air to signal Hotfoot and Hydro. Time to run away.

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PostPosted: Thu Apr 24, 2008 7:39 pm 
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Hotfoot tried to focus, the increasing accuracy of the cyborgs was problematic, and their destruction of the rooftop was starting to make moving around hazardous. If he dove deeper into the power of his shield, he could hurt them, but he risked turning the entire roof into an inferno in the process. Part of his practicing with his power was attempting to focus. He took some deep breaths as he jumped over a series of gaps in the roof, a cyborg with its back turned at the end of the arc.

He could feel the energy around him, the flow around his body. There was a distance between what he felt and what was outside, the space of the plasma itself, the space of the distortion. The stronger the distortion, the faster he went, the more damage was done. The space of the distortion flexed a few times as he soared through the air, and he smiled slightly. This might work he thought.

The distortion around his fists contracted, creating shorter, more violent plasma shield, while the distortion around his feet expanded, allowing for a more subtle and less violent plasma shield. Then, he dove deeper into the distortion, feeling a sense of calmness washing over him. Another deep breath, and his feet hit the ground, within striking distance of the cyborg.

A series of supersonic cracks filled the air as the high energy speedster unleashed a flurry of punches into the cyborg, the distortion around his fists now enough that steel would turn to putty. The joints were the first concern, then the weapons. Less than a second later, he was gone. He dodged the barrels of the other cyborgs, looking for his next opening, and as he came behind his next target, he noticed it. The errant laser shot was a grand hall double doorway he could waltz through. The first misfire let him rush to the next exposed cyborg and attempt to finish him off, melting joints and attempting to disable the laser weapons.

The second time, he continued the process, this time zipping between all of the cyborgs and punching them in the nose before picking a target to try and disable. The distortion extending from his body would continue far enough to hit the eyes, technological or organic, and give him an even greater edge.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a buzzing sound was growing.


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PostPosted: Thu May 01, 2008 3:37 pm 
The Artist formerly known as Rhoenix
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Something about the behavior of the cyborgs began to nag at the back of Alexander's mind as he was preparing to cause more mischief for his would-be rescuer. Finally, as he bent a laser beam fired slightly to the left to strike another cyborg in the back of the neck, he realized what it was.

They weren't adapting to new tactics anymore. In fact, it almost seemed as if they were running on backup instructions, autonomously.

Well, this made things easier, especially because they weren't pausing their fire when something "unexpected" happened - such as some of their shots striking their own instead.

Alexander now simply took his time, and carefully bent their laser fire to thin their numbers, one shot at a time.

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"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."

- William Gibson


Josh wrote:
What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.


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PostPosted: Sun May 04, 2008 11:09 am 
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Before too long, the cyborgs fell. Eyes and optical sensors damaged by the speedster's relentless attacks soon failed and left the cyborgs blind. The focused distortions began to melt the joints of the cybernetic limbs, resulting in frozen poses and easier targets. The weak, smaller parts of the cybernetics had become deformed and rendered nonfunctional, leaving only the flesh mostly intact. While many died from the altered laser fire, several of the remaining were alive, but disabled, the cyborgs we left as a collection of half-statues and corpses as Hotfoot returned to the innocent people on the roof. The humanoid blur of plasma ejected the costumed hero in front of the people on the roof, looking them over carefully.

"Sorry about the noise there everyone, are you all okay?" He saw the pulses in the distance and narrowed his eyes. Was that Blast's signal? In all the chaos of the fighting, it was hard to be sure. "Okay, we've got to speed this up, so raise your hand if you're ready to leave. This isn't going to be comfortable, but just shut your eyes and hold on tight and you'll be okay."


Last edited by Hotfoot on Sun May 04, 2008 11:10 am, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Sun May 04, 2008 1:17 pm 
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Blackheart dreamed. He drifted through the vastness of space, passing from the cold void of interstellar space through the radiation hell of the stellar wind as he brushed by a star. He consumed a tiny fraction of the star's existence, a handful of years, and then pressed by an insignificant planet on his way on to another star system in pursuit of a rival.

The sensitives among four fingered folk on the planet below convulsed and screamed and died. A few among them merely dreamed and grew stronger. A dozen cults rose, each more terrible than the last, and they created massive monuments of stone using prisoners of war as slave labor. Great mausoleum-temple cities were born, all dedicated to the dark god who passed them by. For ten thousand years the horror of his worship would remain with them, and even when the last cultist had been cast in to the sea chained to a huge rock, the ruins remained haunted places.

He dreamed of standing in a burning warehouse, blood dripping from a half dozen cuts as Speed Demon whirled around him, trying to hit the terrorist meta with his flash vision and failing. He dreamed of a kitten recoiling in hatred, of a school where the teacher spoke with contempt the name "David" and the rest of the class avoiding him, he dreamed of his first kiss and he had killed far more people than he had kissed. That should be tragic, a part of him realized, but he did not care.

He floated in the darkness, empty and alone, and yet he was warm and whole. He was content.

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PostPosted: Sun May 04, 2008 1:47 pm 
The Artist formerly known as Rhoenix
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Hotfoot wrote:
"Sorry about the noise there everyone, are you all okay?" He saw the pulses in the distance and narrowed his eyes. Was that Blast's signal? In all the chaos of the fighting, it was hard to be sure. "Okay, we've got to speed this up, so raise your hand if you're ready to leave. This isn't going to be comfortable, but just shut your eyes and hold on tight and you'll be okay."


The two women who were still conscious (as well as not an odd greenish color) looked at one another, and looked one at a time at Alexander. After a short moment, all three nodded. Three hands went up, all three using theor other arms to hang onto their unconscious friend.

One of the two whispered, trying to hide a smile as she did. Alexander recognized her as the one who was about to give herself up voluntarily to the cyborg legion earlier to save the others. "It looked a little dicey there for a minute, but going to the roof with you did get us saved, it seems. You can be our superhero-by-proxy, then."

Alexander chuckled.

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"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."

- William Gibson


Josh wrote:
What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.


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PostPosted: Sun May 04, 2008 2:15 pm 
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Hotfoot helped up one woman into his arms and let the shield flow over him one more, mindful to keep the distortion as gentle as possible around the person he was carrying. The resulting trail from the focused distortion behind him left a clear path as to where he had just been. The process repeated with each survivor as he deposited them not far from where the feds were setting up a triage area.

Finally, he came back to Alexander, alone on the roof save for the cyborgs. Hotfoot looked at Alexander and raised an eyebrow. "I've got to get out of here, but I wanted to thank you for your help back there. Things were getting a little rough. If you need anything, well, now's the time to ask, 'cause I don't think we'll see each other again."


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PostPosted: Sun May 04, 2008 2:42 pm 
The Artist formerly known as Rhoenix
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Alexander was silent a moment, though looked at the suit-clad man who'd saved them. "Actually, yes, if it's not too much to ask. I've kept what I can do secret for most of my life, even if I did go to college to learn more about it. Is there a place I can go to practice my abilities for the benefit of others, without becoming part of the government?"

_________________
"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."

- William Gibson


Josh wrote:
What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.


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PostPosted: Sun May 04, 2008 3:38 pm 
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Hotfoot raised an eyebrow, and then shrugged. "Um, there might be, but I can't promise too much. Let's go and we'll see how it goes, okay?" He picked up Alexander and once again ignited his shield, running as fast as he safely could to try and get to where he had seen the blasts in the air mere moments before.

Before long, Alexander was set on his feet in front of Blast and Gravitas. "Hey guys, room for one more?"


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PostPosted: Wed May 07, 2008 6:18 pm 
The All-Seeing Eye
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Gravitas swayed slightly as he stood. Battling up from the depths had broken off peices, but the crystalline cocoon.. It was now clearly one.. Was overtaking him. His eyes unfocused, his mouth moving. Listening carefully would hear equations, but without specialized math courses, it'd make no sense.

Whatever was happening, there was enough coherence to open the gateway. Once everyone was into Li Na's house and living room, the swaying demigod stumbled his way towards the basement door and the stairs down. There was a disturbing CRACK noise as he fell down them, but no wounds were visible, just more of the evaporating crystal broken off, before the cocoon totally enveloped him.

Those brave enough to touch the crystal could hear the incredibly slowed heartbeat, perhaps one beat a minute. It was warm to the touch, but nearly indestructable now that it had formed totally, something having changed from it's 'growth' and 'stasis' stage.

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Half-Damned, All Hero.

Tev: You're happy. You're Plotting. You're Evil.
Me: Evil is so inappropriate. I'm ruthless.
Tev: You're turning me on.

I Am Rage. You Will Know My Fury.


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PostPosted: Thu May 08, 2008 12:51 pm 
The Artist formerly known as Rhoenix
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Being grabbed and carried by someone running very, very fast was somewhat jarring, but Alexander had at least expected that. Being delivered to a very tired-looking man who looked as if he were being visibly swallowed or sheathed in dense crystal patterns was only foreshadowing to the stomach-twisting lurch he felt as he suddenly appeared in...what looked to be the mostly ordinary inside of a house.

Losing his balance as he appeared, Alexander fell to the floor heavily, twisting slightly to land on his better leg. His eyes widened in horror as the man being consumed by crystal fell down the nearby stairs immediately afterward with sickeningly sharp noises, though he didn't appear injured.

Blinking a few times, he grabbed a doorframe to painfully pull himself to his feet, facing Hotfoot again. "Well, all of you certainly travel in style, I'll give you that."

His eyes couldn't help but drift to the bottom of the stairs, where the large crystal that held the man who'd transported them within lay, seemingly quiescent. "Hey, is he going to be alright?"

_________________
"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."

- William Gibson


Josh wrote:
What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.


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PostPosted: Thu May 08, 2008 2:22 pm 
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Nothing like the sound of something falling and breaking to get the mistress of the house out of bed. A shadow sprouted a pair of slanted oval eyes, nearly solid silver, with the faintest of slit pupils in the center. "Blackheart? Blast? Hotfoot? What's going on?" a feminine voice asked from the shadow, before the eyes focused on Alexander and narrowed dangerously.

Then the shadow seemed to bulge as a replitian -- no, DRACONIC -- head emerged. "... Who brought home a pet ... and why?" the dragon asked as she fully emerged, a lithe Oriental dragon nearly 8 feet long with scales of obsidian, onyx, and jet, accented with hematite and silver on the fins and spines along her back, legs, and head. The solid silver eyes were the same as those on the wall, and still looking none too pleased at the thought of a visitor. Those used to the sight of Argent's dragon form would notice the shadows around Alexander were moving slightly, prepared for attack or defense.

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PostPosted: Thu May 08, 2008 3:02 pm 
The Artist formerly known as Rhoenix
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Feeling the light around him (and the sudden lack of it in areas) suddenly...feeling different would normally be enough to make Alexander feel concerned at the very least, without taking into account the draconic head, or the movement of some of the shadows around him.

Now however, after his rather interesting morning, he barely felt surprised. He felt tired, his shock from the fighting was wearing off, which in turn led him to feel his wounds rather acutely. He tightened his grip on the doorframe to keep himself held upright as another wave of pain from his right leg swept through him.

He didn't feel belligerent, he didn't feel as if his entire body were running off of adrenaline, he didn't exercise the barest hint of his powers, and he didn't feel as if today was going to be the least bit predictable. He spoke up in a voice that betrayed how very tired he felt, though it was still coherent and thoughtful. "My apologies for the lack of courtesy madam, but I asked them to after how this morning has gone. If you wish to assign blame, please place it squarely on my shoulders."

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"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."

- William Gibson


Josh wrote:
What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.


Last edited by rhoenix on Thu May 08, 2008 3:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Thu May 08, 2008 8:16 pm 
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Hotfoot staggered through Gravitas' distortion as an odd feeling passed through him. He couldn't tell exactly what it was, but it was disorienting. "Style...sure." He looked up at the shadow dragon that formed and sighed, "Sorry, he's mine. He helped out back there and I couldn't just leave him in that place, y'know?"

Under the mask, Hotfoot was beginning to feel the exhaustion that came with a day of exertion. He did his best to hide it, but his costume was not fitting as tightly as it did earlier...


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PostPosted: Thu May 08, 2008 8:48 pm 
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"My house, stranger. My companions should have known better." Argent retorted as the shadow-dragon's head turned to glare at Hotfoot for his faux-pas, and her expression changed instantly, becoming more concerned and caring. "Go eat, <little brother>, I can feel how exhausted you are," she said, her voice softening as a shadow reached up from the floor to gently nudge the spedster in the right direction. The endearment was in Chinese, older sister to younger brother. "There's food in the breakfast nook, should be enough for everyone."

She then turned her head to the large mobile pocket of water that Alexander probably never noticed. "Hydro, you are still welcome to use the swimming pool to refresh yourself in," she offered politely, still a little formal with the new member of the team. "Just please keep the pH balanced, and try to clean out any leaves or bugs that have fallen in? Oh... and try not to let the neighbors see you."

The dragon then gave Alexander another look, noting his wounds and grimacing. "Blast? The med-kit is in the Utility room behind the kitchen." The silver eyes sweep over to Blast, noting his exhaustion, and her voice took on overtones of 'Mother Knows Best'. "Get this one's leg fixed up, all of you eat something, then we'll wake up Blackheart and see what he has to say. Now ... where's Gravitas and what shattered?"

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PostPosted: Fri May 09, 2008 1:10 pm 
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Food. The very thought made him feel ill. God he hurt all over.

"Water... please" he rasped.

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"it takes two sides to end a war but only one to start one. And those who do not have swords may still die upon them." Tolken


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PostPosted: Fri May 09, 2008 1:14 pm 
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The noise woke Blackheart. He got up, sunglasses still on. "Who is there?" he called out.

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PostPosted: Fri May 09, 2008 1:19 pm 
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"The team's back, Blackheart... and they brought another stray home," Argent answered, still in dragon form. "Hotfoot looks like hell, I'm getting Blast some water so he can report," as she said that, a shadow fetched a bottle of water from the fridge and gave it to Blast. "I'm waiting for them to tell me who the stray is, why he's here, what the shattering sound I heard was, and where Gravitas is now."

And that summed up everything nicely.

"Oh... and the stray is bleeding on my floor."

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PostPosted: Fri May 09, 2008 1:21 pm 
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"We should have stolen some marble from the hell-dungeon," said Blackheart. "We could have redone your whole floor."

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PostPosted: Fri May 09, 2008 1:49 pm 
The Artist formerly known as Rhoenix
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Though given how he was beginning to understand how the dynamic worked between the different members, Alexander felt it was his duty to speak up. In this case, it would only be polite.

"You'll want the full story soon I imagine, but here's the light version: My name is Alexander Gordon, and I'm honored to meet you. For a little over two and a half years, I was a scientist at OmniCorp. I think after the events of this morning, I and the three people I tried with some success to rescue are some of the few still wholly human people from there. I tried my hardest to fight my former-co-workers-turned-cyborgs off, drawing on abilities I'd never used in public before, and probably would have died or worse eventually if it wasn't for the timely intervention of your compatriot - Hotfoot, I think you said his name was. Lastly, I'm not sure who Gravitas is, but I think a gentleman wearing a full-body crystalline condom fell down those stairs after transporting us here."

Pausing for a moment, he looked down at the floor, where a small pool of blood was beginning to form beneath his right leg, and frowned. "Sorry about the floor - I can help pay to have it fixed, if you like."

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PostPosted: Fri May 09, 2008 1:54 pm 
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"It didn't match the decor," Argent quipped back, adding her own zing. "Nice to see you've regrown your sense of humor, Blackheart. How're the eyes coming?" Despite the zing, it was true concern for him. There may have been more, but Alexander spoke up.

Argent listened politely, managing not to roll her eyes at the scientific drone of voice, but the last bit got her attention. "Crystal Condom?! What Crystal Condom ...?" the dragon turned and ... well... flowed down into a shadow, vanishing from Alexander's sight to check on Gravitas.

There was a moment before Argent reappeared from the shadows, looking and sounding grim. "Blackheart, there's a green, glowing crystal coccoon in the basement. It's warm to the touch, and there's a faint heartbeat inside."

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Last edited by LadyTevar on Fri May 09, 2008 2:00 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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