United Heroes MUSH - User contributions [en]

2762/Is Mount Doom in the yellow pages

2017-10-09T14:33:42Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/10/09 |Location=The Triskelion |Synopsis=Miyako Moore brings a piece of paper--one with potentially extraordinary qualities--to SHIELD for inv..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/10/09
|Location=The Triskelion
|Synopsis=Miyako Moore brings a piece of paper--one with potentially extraordinary qualities--to SHIELD for investigation.
|Cast of Characters=1368, 1430
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore flies across the city aboard a paper airplane like the ones you folded in middle school when the teachers' back was turned, holding up her phone and following Google Maps to track down the first and most obvious idea so far she has for dealing with this... THING that probably shouldn't exist. She touches down in front of the door and steps off, snatching the crumpled folded paper airplane out of the air in a smooth movement as she walks up to the front door with a cheap envelope in her other hand. She looks in the door, then walks up to what looks like the front desk and wavs. "Hi, I found a.. thing.. that needs to get... mount doomed or whatever. Do you know who I need to talk to?" 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' The man sitting at the front desk appears to be in his late thirties or early forties, with thin hair combed back over his head. As the newly arrived woman speaks, he listens with his head cocked slightly to one side. "Ah ..." he begins, then pauses, then clears his throat. "Well. First. Welcome to SHIELD headquarters." The man smiles. "My name's David. Why don't you describe this 'thing' to me? I want to help you," he adds, raising his hands, palms outward. "I do. But I want to make sure I get you in contact with the right people." 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore carefully sets a manila envelope on the table. "Me and somebody else found this in a burning building that was made out of brick and concrete. It's some kind of hole, and there is fires on the other side of it. Something alive came out of it - we put it back inside. It feels magical. I don't know what to do about it, though, and I don't want to just start trying things to see what happens.. I thought maybe somebody would know what to do with it?" She gets some more hand lotion out of her bag and idly rubs it into her hands, casually dropping the crumpled up paper plane in the nearest trash basket. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' Looking at the envelope, David raises an eyebrow. "What's in the envelope, precisely? And where did you find it? Who were you with?" He begins typing on a keyboard attached to a tablet, occasionally touching on-screen menu options. "For posterity, you understand. And for locating the proper personnel to deal with whatever this is. Speaking of which," he continues, "is this item potentially hazardous, perishable, or fragile? You mentioned it has some kind of hole and ... fire? ... inside it." 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore says, "It is a piece of paper. Woven paper, kind of odd to find in a slum. It has some inking on it, and it looks like a painted hole on it. There is some kind of place that is on fire in it, and it moves. A fireball with eyes came out of it, I assume, then when it landed on the paper again, it fell back in. I don't know if something else might come out, so.." 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' "Alright..." David says, drawing out the word while tapping a few more menu options. "Paper. Was this inking more like writing or calligraphy, or was it a picture?" He continues typing something. "'A fireball with eyes'--did this 'come out' of the hole /on/ the paper? Or did it come out /of/ the paper into the room with you?" He coughs and takes a sip of water from a nearby bottle. 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore says, "I found it in a building fire on the 15300 block of Smiths street, north of Metropolis. A slum. The building was made out of brick and concrete. It shouldn't have been able to burn like it did. It looked like either symbols or writing, but I don't recognize it, in black coal ink. I didn't see it come out, I just know the artifact was the only thing I saw that was out of place. Hmmm. And it went into it when it landed on top of it with the picture face up. The paper felt like a hole. I haven't found enough magic to know much more about it." She gestures at the envelope. "It's pretty stable right now, you could look at it yourself.. I can take it out if you want, paper can't hurt me."" 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' "No, no!" David says firmly, reaching out to wave his hand over the envelope without touching it. "There's no need for that. Don't want to cause any other inadvertent effects. Besides, I almost have everything necessary to bring in the right department." He smiles politely and types a bit more. "Is the building still up? Uh," he adds, "that is--how extensive was the fire? Ever been there before? Why go there at all?" David pauses, waiting for a response. "Last piece of info I'll ask you for, I promise." 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore considers. "Anyways? That's just an envelope. It wouldn't stop a fire thing from coming out. That's kind of why I'm here.. The building was a total loss, and I was just there at the fire station when the call came in. I fly faster than the fire engines can get there, and they have a lot of abandoned cars in the way of the hydrants in that part of town." 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' David nods and types. He taps a final button and then smiles again, placing his hands, one over the other, on the desk. "Thanks for the details. I've made sure the right people know, and they'll be out to take possession of the paper shortly." He gestures toward a set of benches and chairs. "You're more than welcome to take a seat. It might be some ti--" A nearby wall slides open and two figures in hazmat suits, along with a creature that looks like a bipedal fish-creature, step briskly toward the desk. "Caught us while these two were already dressed," the fish creature says in a calm, almost lilting voice. "Where is the item? Wait, I see it." The creature points to the envelope and the two hazmat agents very gently lift it with a pair of high-tech tongs and slip the envelope into a thick metal container the size of a suitcase. 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore crosses her wrists behind her back. "Hi.. Is this the usual way to bring in things like that? Do you have any suggestions how to handle things like this better?" 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' The fish-creature turns to regard Miyako. "Hm," he says quietly, and then he stands silent for a moment before continuing. "Honestly, the best approach would be to call 911. SHIELD can be alerted almost instantly that way. There is a surprising number of legitimate concerns that might initially be perceived as prank or lunacy." The creature steps toward Miyako and clasps its hands together behind its back. "Still, this is appreciated. Some very talented minds will study it. You say it is not necessarily dangerous to contact, yes? Miss...?" 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore says, "Miyako. Origami if you are a reporter, but everybody knows my name anyway. It seemed like the edges were just paper.. I don't know about the middle. Paper can't hurt me, so it was safe for ME, but the parts that don't have a hole in it seem inert, no magic there. And the hole is only on one side of the page. I don't know how things like this are usually handled, yet.." 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' The creature nods again and looks off in the distance. "I see. I think I see, at least. It's possible that I don't at all, of course." It makes a sound like a sigh. "How long were you in contact with it? You say that paper can't hurt you--I was unsure that it hurt anyone, to be honest." With a nod toward David at the front desk, the creature continues. "If you're willing, we should collect some sort of contact information for you, in case we might need to speak with you further. This is a preferable alternative to the traditional approach, believe me--you don't want to be a makeshift piece of evidence yourself, waiting for scientists to decide on a course of experimental action." 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore thinks. "It took me about fifteen minutes to fly here. I have a phone number, and fire departments can usually find where I am if you ask. What kind of things do they need to know?" She rubs her chin in thought with a massively scarred hand. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' "Well," the fish-man replies, "in the event of something catastrophic happening, we would want to locate you. It's unlikely you would be the cause of such a thing, since you brought this in as you did, but you might be a target, or you might be effected by whatever else happens, or--well, one of any number of potential scenarios." The creature approximates a smile, but it might be a grimace. In any case, its fanged teeth flash for a moment. "Of course, it may also be nothing, and this is just a precaution that might never be realized. Leave the discovery of that to those of us best suited for it. Although..." it pauses again. "You did say you flew here?" 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore nods. "Yes, why? I fly a lot of places, in a paper airplane. Is that.. important?" 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' "Well, it might be," the fish creature replies, tilting its head back and forth as if in thought. "You /did/ bring in paper that has supernatural qualities. You travel in paper vessels, if I take your statement at face value. For some--," it gestures toward the hazmat crew, "--such phenomena are extraordinary. For others," it says, gesturing to its own chest, "it is an occupational norm. But nonetheless there might be a correlation to attend to." 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore nods. "I didn't do anything to that paper, and paper likes me. If there's a link, it's not my fault.. Maybe *paper* had something to do with it? I don't know how that would work." She stops and thinks, idly rubbing a bit more lotion into her hands. "I'm not even sure who I would *ask* about something like that. I'm open to suggestions, though." 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' "Luckily, I /do/ know people to ask. But they'll need some time for proper research," the fish-man says. "Thus the value of contact information. We will seek you out, though, if it seems useful. So--if you'll pardon the expression--the stronger the 'paper' trail, the better." David waves again from the front desk. "Happy to help!" 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore nods, "Okay. Is there anything else you need, um..?" She racks her brain trying to remember if we were introduced, tapping her forehead a bit then gesturing at you vaguely. She winces a bit at the movement. "I don't think I heard what to call you?" 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' The fish-creature shakes its head. "I think we have everything we need for the moment. If something else comes up, you may hear from us--otherwise, though, I might as well not exist." It attempts to smile-grimace again and points a finger toward Miyako's hand. "But if you need a medic, David can probably help you with that, too." Behind the creature, the wall slides open again, and the hazmat-suit-wearing agents head back into the corridor there. The fish-man slowly follows suit. "Thank you for your help, miss," he says, looking over his shoulder at Miyako before the wall slides shut to hide him again. 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore hmms, and shrugs a bit, turning to David. "I guess 'Hey you' is going to have to do, then? You know how to find me if you need me." She slips her hand in her messenger bag and comes out with a square sheet of paper, then walks out toward the door, putting some folds onto the page. "Buhbye, thanks for the help." She waves with one hand, then tosses the paper plane on the ground just outside the door with a *thump* as it grows to a silvery, car-sized thing that she immediately steps onto before it whooshes into the air. 
}}

2697/SHIELD Under Siege

2017-10-09T14:32:43Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/10/08 |Location=The Triskelion |Synopsis=Enemy agents infiltrate SHIELD and attempt to abscond with incredibly valuable equipment. |Cast of Ch..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/10/08
|Location=The Triskelion
|Synopsis=Enemy agents infiltrate SHIELD and attempt to abscond with incredibly valuable equipment.
|Cast of Characters=347, 5, 1377, 1028, 1200, 1444, 1191, 229, 1430, 230, 93
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:347|Nick Fury (347)}} has posed:'''     It was a day like any other at the Triskelion. Late in the afternoon, it was almost quitting time for most of the Agents working 9 to 5. The conversations of people talking in the halls, and the electronics that always premeated the building kept a low level hum throughout the building.     Several level 2 and 3 Agents were talking about the end of the week, and the start of the weekend, in Operations. The weather was nice and warm, no rain or rough weather in the forecast.     In the lower bowels of the building, something was happening. A non-event to most of the personnel working there. Several artifacts and devices were being transferred to the Triskelion so that the crack team of engineers, scientists and researchers could take a crack at it. After the recent worldwide near-Apocalypse by Darkseid and his minions, SHIELD was getting ready in case it happened again.     Two level 5 Agents were approaching the armoured SHIELD Quinjet, where the pilot, the co-pilot and the security team were just beginning to unload the artifacts. Several "Level 7" security crates were loaded on anti-grav sleds, preparing to be taken to R&D where Fitz and Simmons were waiting.     The level 6 pilot, Jack "Hammer" Silas, moves to intercept the two level 5s and nods to them with a frown. "Hammer" never smiles. "I wasn't told there was going to be two Agents taking over? Who authorized this?"     The level 5 on the left nods, and reaches for a security pad. "Director Fury himself. Here is my authorization." "Hammer" and the other SHIELD Agents never knew what hit them.     Suddenly, this event was occuring all over. Several "Agents" throughout the Triskelion suddenly drew their weapons and fired at true SHIELD Agents. In Operations, two level 4 Agents crash the security system, bringing about the "Blitzkrieg" protocol...the systematic shut down of all high level security systems and protocols, effectively making the Triskelion an impenetrable fortress and locking everyone inside and those outside, unable to get in. Alarms and red alrert signs go off. This is a lockdown. This also includes Director Nicholas Fury - locked inside his office and cut off from everyone. 

:'''{{#var:5|Melinda May (5)}} has posed:''' In a conference room just off of the lobby entrance to the Triskelion, Agent Melinda May had been working with a group of newcomers to the building to get them at least guest level clearance. She recruited the best not-already-busy computer person she knows to help with that side of it, and had just about finished offering up the baseline 'rules of conduct when visiting' speech when the Blitzkrieg protocol was set off. Muttering a curse in Mandarin, she looks at everyone assembled in the room. "And in closing, this is not a drill." She points to one of the more familiar people in the room while pulling a sidearm to toss across. "Secure the door." To Skye, she says, "Find out what's going on." Clearly, she means the computer. "The rest of you, get ready to defend yourselves." And she silently REALLY hopes it won't be necessary. But she knows better. The guano has hit the fan. 

:'''{{#var:1377|Frankenstein (1377)}} has posed:''' Frankenstein sits in a deeper part of the complex looking back at two agents who have been looking at him incredulously. he's explained that he both is and isn't Adam from The Squadron that it has the equipment that he has. the inconsistencies of his stories plural has caused all kinds of anomalous readings that indicate that he both is telling the truth in every version that he tells. the inability to determine the exact date of the two Infamous weapons that he used while in the Howling Commandos hasn't helped things either. it was only his previous ties and service that kept him from being arraigned for a misdemeanor due to the incident with the juggernaut, but fortunately at least he's on the human side of his Spectrum so is able to talk and give some explanation has best he can. when the alarm sounds, there is a brief argument the inside of himself for a few seconds before those who have served with Shield ultimately win, and he picks up the weapons in question and looks to tje agents imterviewing him,"Blitzkrieg?" That seems to be enough to convince the agents for now to let him come with them amd figure out what the frell is going on. 

:'''{{#var:1028|Jessica Drew (1028)}} has posed:''' Jessica Drew is there, in the break room on the operations level in the process of pouring herself a cup of coffee, adding sugar, and some milk to it, and a little chocolate flavoring as well, when things go sideways, and the blitzkrieg protocol triggers. A longing look is cast at the coffee, with a little frown creeping to her lips as she reaches to pull up the hood of her costume and moving towards the base intercom to call Operations, "This is Agent Drew, what's going on?" 

:'''{{#var:1200|Kenan Kong (1200)}} has posed:''' So, the forces of Apokalypse were sent packing and Kenan was in fairly good shape when they left. What is Kenan still doing in New York? Well there was a lot of damage done by the invasion...and not a few forces of Apokalypse left behind. He was here helping fix the damage as a "Good will gesture" ftom China. It so happens that he turned 18 just after the invasion ended, and someone he had encountered before...a Miss Carter...suggested that if they really wanted to show international cooperation more, that China might send him to work with SHIELD. This wound up with him coming here to find out whether such a personelle transfer would actually be possible. Kenan, for whom Mandarin is his native language, understands the curse perfectly. He also has a great deal to offer in terms of assisting defenses, "I have Super Hearing and X-ray vision, if you want me to try to ascertain what is happening in the rest of the complex, Miss May." 

:'''{{#var:1444|Jennifer Takeda (1444)}} has posed:''' Jennifer Takeda had been doing her best to pay attention to the meeting, glaring back at anyone who'd stared at her. And then the alarms all went off, and the boring meeting suddenly gets very exciting. Giving a nod to May and Skye, she slips out of her chair and presses her back against the wall on one side of the door, hand half raised and ready to fry anyone hostile who comes through the door. "This happen often around here?" 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Daisy Johnson. Agent-in-Training. Computer whiz and hacker geek. Today? Agent May's dogsbody, lowered to.. get this.. data entry to provide security clearance. Her eyes were fair rolling into the back of her head with the mundanity of it all when the 'not a drill' hit. May's directive was speaking her language. "Right on it, boss." The agent settling down to do what she did best, and not necessarily within the bounds of what she actually had clearance for. It was, she told herself, what they paid her for. 

:'''{{#var:229|Winter Soldier (229)}} has posed:''' Deprogramming for the erstwhile Winter Soldier was a long, arduous, and debatably effective process, but it was a process Bucky Barnes clung to as perhaps the only assurance he had of erasing any lingering triggers from his mind. It is the primary reason he comes to the Triskelion, when he's not 1) there looking for Steve 2) actively called in for his unique skillset. Despite his TEMP pass, he still remains a moderately unique case in terms of his coming and going at the Triskelion. Being best friends with Captain America only carries you so far when you were once also an assassin in forced servitude to the very organization SHIELD stood against... though that fact did mean Bucky had some considerable intel to offer, which he did freely. He is usually met, when he turns up, by fully-armed agents, who keep a bit of an eye on him as he transacts his business. He doesn't always know the agents who meet him, but today it was Agent May, a familiar face and therefore reassuring. He arrived with Claire, who had other business and whose TEMP pass carried her a lot farther unsupervised than his did. She went her way, he went his. That was hours ago. He and Claire typically check back in with May again before they leave, which is why they're in the room. Claire had been talking about a 'tablet,' which got Bucky to ask her 'a tablet of what,' which led to her showing him one of the conference room tablets, which led to him playing Angry Birds intently and angrily in a corner while waiting to talk to May. Then the alarms go off. Bucky looks markedly annoyed, because he was almost done with the level. He's not armed -- he rarely comes armed for average business -- so May's thrown sidearm is welcome, the former assassin snagging it from the air as he rises with a glance at Claire. He remains by her, covering the door, one eye on May for further cues. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' In a sub-basement beneath the Triskelion, a small, soft red light begins to flash in a giant tank of water. The creature floating inside the tank turns about and swims to the surface. "Base is on lockdown, Abe," a bespectacled technician says calmly. "I see," the creature--Abe Sapien--replies, girding a belt and pistol holster about his waist. "It's a shame, then, that our quarters seem to be behind on some of the most important security upgrades." "I hear that," the technician replies, shotgun in her hands. "Well," Abe says with a sigh, "I suppose I'd better go see what's going on upstairs. I'm assuming that everyone else is out on assignment?" Without waiting for a response, he begins making his way toward the nearest staircase up to the Triskelion proper. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Still wearing her own TEMP pass -- granted to her care of the recent work she's doing alongside Steve Rogers which has Claire Temple cloistered almost religiously in the medical wings, helping researching into that strange virus making quarantine of Raccoon City -- the covertly-known night nurse is now nursing in herself a familiar headache. The one that comes with dealing with a hundred-year-old man out of time. "I showed you what a tablet is four times now. It's that thing we use instead of newspapers. You keep asking for /those/ too, and -- what the hell!" That's when agent starts turning on agent, and Claire has little recourse but to duck down reflexively, returning Bucky's glance with an incredulous one of her own. Horror pales her face. The nurse in her sees bodies already, and wants to go begin emergency triage, but -- "Is this /normal/?!" is a really good question that needs to be said. Because seriously. 

:'''{{#var:347|Nick Fury (347)}} has posed:'''     "What the hell?" Deputy Director Maria Hill says, as she dives for cover. Several "Agents" of something other than SHIELD began to pick off the real SHIELD Agents in Ops. Agony burst through her shoulder and into her neck, as she looks down and see the exit wound of the shot she just took to her left upper chest. Blood was spilling onto the polished floor, her arm hanging limply at her side. Struggling to get up, she finds herself beginning to fall into unconsciousness. "No..." She says through gritted teeth, trying to draw her weapon. That was when darkness took her.     Director Nicholas Fury taps his screen in his office. The screen freezes, as it is suddenly put into "Blitzkrieg" mode, locking him out. "Override, Director Fury, Nicholas J." The computer, in a flat voice replies, "Access denied. All command functions re-routed." Fury frowns, stands up, and tries to exit. No luck. Banging his fist against the door, Fury says, simply. "Dammit."     The conference room's computers showed the same signs as Fury's Office - access denied. It would require a superior hacker to find someway around it. The "Agents" responsible for locking everything down didn't take into consideration May and Bucky's experience, Claire's skillset or Skye's expertise. They also didn't think anyone with Kenan and Jennifer's abilities would be present. With a bit of work, Skye finds a back door...through the emergency fire suppression protocol. Unfortunately, that meant turning on the sprinklers, and would give them, at most, 30 seconds to be able to access secure systems and figure out their next steps. Which would require a Level 7 access code or above.     When Agent Drew tries to access the comms, all's she gets is a buzz, as though she had no access to comms. The other two Agents in the coffee room try the door, but it refuses to open. Panic sets in in their eyes as they look to Jessica, and her experience and training to get them out of this. "Um. Ma'am. What do we do?"     The Agents with Frankenstein don't know what to do. They look at him, and try to access the door, but they are blocked. Agent Hua, the main Agent that was chatting with Frank, looks at Frankenstein and says, "How good are you with doors? We seem to be locked in here."     Abe Sapien was exactly right. Somehow, the upgrade to BRPD's security protocols were not completed, and Abe has access to most of the lower level of the Triskelion, including a door to the flight deck and main hanger on the bottom floor. The door to that area was locked, the old fashioned way, the only door in the entire building like that. 

:'''{{#var:5|Melinda May (5)}} has posed:''' Leaving Skye to do what she's good at, May leaves her ICER next to the hacker's computer then moves toward the door where Barnes and the others are by the door. "We need to get to Operations, sort this mess out. Subdue unless there's no other option." She then goes the the locking mechanism on the door and starts to dismantle it using tools pulled from inside her jacket. "Mr. Kong. With Barnes and Temple. Get to the fourth floor armory. Make sure no one tries for the weapons there, then proceed to Operations. Skye, you're on Overwatch once you're in the system." "Ms. Takeda, you're with me." 

:'''{{#var:1377|Frankenstein (1377)}} has posed:''' Frankenstein cracks his knuckles and lets actions speak louder than words. Unless the door is ridiculously reinforced, it is slid up and opened with relative ease. "After you," he gestures. For now, he is following their lead, unsure who is safe to shoot unless wearing an obvious Nazi or Hydra uniform. 

:'''{{#var:1028|Jessica Drew (1028)}} has posed:''' The keen ears of Spiderwoman hear the gunshots, even through the thick security doors and she frowns, just so. "We're under attack." She says after just a moment, those finely honed spy skills of hers kicking in and she gestures, "Stand back, I'm going to short out the electronic locks of the door.. then it should just be a matter of brute forcing things open." She says, "Be ready for whatever we find on the other side." A keen look is given towards the two agents with her to watch for anything amiss with the two before she will charge up her spider venom and blast a spot on the door, that should, with a highly enough charged blast, zap the lock, at least for a few moments, then she is moving forward to put that spider strength to use and start forcing the security door open and allow her, and presumeably the two agents, out into the building proper. 

:'''{{#var:1200|Kenan Kong (1200)}} has posed:''' Kenan moves over to join Mr. Barnes and Miss Temple. He has had some experience letting others lead...he does not like it much but he has learned there are times to accept it. He has had to let Bat-man and Wonder-Woman lead in missions when the mission is in their field of expertise. He does not know either of the two he is working with, but assumes that Miss May has her reasons. 

:'''{{#var:1444|Jennifer Takeda (1444)}} has posed:''' Jennifer Takeda nods. "Less lethal. Got it." She'd been practicing with microwaves, and she'd got the frequency just about right... This shouldn't kill anyone, but it's hard to aim and fire a gun when it feels like you're on fire. As soon as May gets the door open and breaches the room beyond, HazMat moves out as well, aiming for any obvious hostiles she sees, the only sign of her 'shots' the air rippling slightly like in a heat haze. Lots stealthier than her usual sickly green blasts as well as less lethal. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Ah, Unix.. how I love thee.. Skye's fingers were a flurry over hte keyboards, looking for the in. Whoever had dont this wasn't a poor hand at computers from what she could tell. She'd likely have gotten this far without having to engage the fire systems otherwise.. "Water incoming in three.. two.." Which is as far as she got before the deluge of sprinklers hit. "Ooop? Agent May? Need your clearance." Well, she possibly could get around that, too, but she only had a short window to work in and given the lockdown, she'd rather not lose it to arrogance. She knew when to push her limits.. most of the time. Eyes flicking to the ICER beside her. "Comms, too? For our guests." It wasn't like Agent May to forget them. Some people carried pens for all occassions. May carried comms. And they'd come in handy right soon now. "Make my job and yours easier." Her lips bowing over something of a smirk. 

:'''{{#var:229|Winter Soldier (229)}} has posed:''' "You kids and your shiny screens and flashing lights these days," Bucky grouses, as he checks the pistol's magazine, flicks off the safety, and chambers a round. "You can't read shit through all the fingerprints on the glass. Then you drop the thing and it breaks and it's a hundred dollars a pop to fix. You know what we could buy with a hundred bucks in 1943? I keep askin' you for newspapers 'cause some things are best kept on paper -- " He's moving towards the door even as he complains. "I'm also assuming," he says dryly, in answer to Claire's other question, "this isn't normal." He glances back as May delivers instructions. "Copy that," he says. His gaze swings over to Claire, then to Kenan, where he does a slight double take at the kid's apparent youth. Though he's not one to talk -- Bucky himself went to war at sixteen. "All right," he says, lapsing easily back into squad command experience eighty years rusty. "With me. You got super-senses? Keep an eye and ear out." He is first out once the door is open, making a beeline for the fourth floor and keeping himself between Claire and any active conflicts. He hasn't been in the Triskelion much, but enough for his good recall to get a decent idea of the layout. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' As he nears the door to the hangar (since there's not much regular traffic from the 'real' SHIELD crew down to the BPRD levels), Abe Sapien pauses and leans close to it. He slowly places one palm against it and closes his eyes. A long moment later, Abe lets his hand drop and sets his jaw. "It's times like this that I wish I had a giant indestructible limb," he mutters before sliding his pistol from its holster. Both hands on his gun, the fish-man takes a deep breath and then kicks at the locked door. When it doesn't burst open, he steps back and fires at the lock; once it's compromised, he kicks it open. The BPRD agent takes position for cover from the door frame, sneaking a peek into the flight deck before heading in further. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' 'You know what we could but with a hundred bucks?' "A point to this?" Claire intones dryly, though with her eyes averted worryingly and her attention elsewhere. To May's order, she's not one to argue, her eyebrows popping up to find herself, on the spot, 'recruited' into some sort of retaliatory effort to get under control -- whatever the hell must be going on. Reminds her of some Hell's Kitchen turf war, when one mob folds over to allow something newer, stronger, and more vicious to take its place. Probably not too far from that. Either way, the night nurse appears to be in. She answers in a brief nod, her eyes turning to appraise Kenan Kong. "Hey," she says, because it sounds about the sort've thing to say, when everything is going to hell around you. Hey. What's up. At least, despite her civilian status, she seems learned enough to stay on Bucky's heels, keeping an extra pair of eyes out at his six. 

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanova (93)}} has posed:''' Sitting in her office, Natasha was working on a report when the computer locked her out with the warning protocol emblazoned across the screen. With a sigh, she pushed out her chair and set about gearing up. For now, she's locked in her office. So she has a few moments before someone can get things open again. The question is, will it be good or bad guys. Slipping her Glocks into their holsters, she walks toward the door as she checks her wristbands. She is meticulous but efficient, not rushing as she went through her checks. Wouldn't do go get into combat and not have as many grenades or charges as she should. Fully loaded. She settled herself to the right of her door, back to the wall, awaiting an opening. Then the sprinklers turned on. "Great," she mutters softly. She draws one of the Glocks, not having to work the slide since they always have a round chambered. She could mess with the electrical system but she wouldn't have the power to get the door open by force so she is forced to wait for an opportunity to exit. Her other hand is brought up to touch the comm in her ear but for the moment there is no chatter. They apparently are compromised as well. 

:'''{{#var:347|Nick Fury (347)}} has posed:'''     After several seconds of May working on the door panel, and with Skye's help with the security overwatch, the door can soon be physically opened by May's team. The rest, such as comms and continued access, will require May assisting Skye with her clearance codes. Level 7? Strange. That sounds suspicious to May. Something wasn't feeling right about that.     As soon as the door is opened, the team notices four, no five, "Agents" looking at them in surprise, with their guns pointed down the hall, as though expecting opponents to come from that direction. They weren't expecting anyone to come out of the side office! Bucky spots them first, already out the door, followed quickly by Kenan and then Takeda. Were they allies or enemies?     Claire notices that two other "Agents" were down, having been shot and laying against the wall across the hall...she recognizes them as the Agents that escorted them earlier to the office with May and the team!     At first, Frankenstein has a tough time with the door. It is reinforced and security locked. However, with a little push, and with Frank's massive strength, the door cracks open slightly. Finally, with a final push, it is open! Two "Agents stare up at him with awe, shock registering on their face! Stranegly enough, they seem to be pointing their weapons at him.     Agent Drew was exactly right. They were under attack. The two Agents nod, and wait for Jessica to begin her electrical attack on the security systems. With her venom blast followed by her superior strength the door is opened quickly! It opens to chaos in Operations, as Agent fired at Agent! That was when her "spider sense" went off...behind her! Both "Agents" aim at her, and are ready to fire!     As Abe waits and "feels" what is happening through the door, he can sense pain, anger, fear and chaos. Combat is happening...and then it stops suddenly, as though finished. When he shoots the lock, kicks open the door, and leaps onto the flight deck, he notice what had happened. Several bodies are strewn across the deck, with four Agents loading four very large crates on anti-grave devices, and returning them to the Quinjet! Abe could sense the "Agents" were wrong somehow.     Agent Romanova is locked in her room for now. However, when the sprinklers go off, a very low...click sounds at the door. However the door refuses to open on its own. Something was going on...and Natasha can hear someone outside. A low muffled gunshot. And then silence. 

:'''{{#var:5|Melinda May (5)}} has posed:''' At Skye's reminder about comms, she pauses in the middle of the sprinkler downpour and pulls a small handful of the tiny earbuds from an inside pocket on her jacket and hands them out to Barnes, Temple, Kenan, and Jennifer. Then she steps back over to frown at the screen but then quickly type in her access codes. It's a good thing she's actually level 7 herself. "Skye, work Overwatch from here, and try to contact anyone else in the building." She knows the young woman is not the easiliy trusting sort, so will hopefully be properly discerning about whose comms she links in. "Takeda, let's go." The moment the doors open and the Agents in the hall are revealed, she ducks and moves to the side to give the young woman with powers room to 'nuke' the Agents while she pulls and throws knives at their arms. 

:'''{{#var:1377|Frankenstein (1377)}} has posed:''' Frankenstein is shocked just as they are. If he were just Adam he would not do anything. He wouldn't want to male a bad impression. But he is much more than tjat amd treachery is something he knows very very well evem if he doesn't know the context. On the off hand chance this is some kind of test, he doesn't shoot the steam cannon at them amd instead focuses his entire attack on one, trying to grab him by the throat and intimidate him. "What is going on?" His roar is loud and if the agent is human amd if he is able to lift him up ratjer intimidating indeed. 

:'''{{#var:1444|Jennifer Takeda (1444)}} has posed:''' Jennifer Takeda turns away from the others, quickly lifting her visor and slipping the earpiece into her ear. Her helmet filters whir a little louder as it goes into negative pressure mode, keeping anything inside from getting out, until she seals the visor again. At the sight of the 'Agents' she brings her hands up, the air between them rippling like there's a sudden heat wave. In addition to making them feel like they're on fire, there's a decent possibility it's messing with any electronics on them. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Agent May's clearance unlocked the systems to Skye, but they also did something else - Skye had done this long enough and too often in the past to make a guess at what likely just happened when that last keystroke of code went in. For a millitsecond, the agent in training winced at the thought - she should have caught that quicker. And then it hit her.. what was good for the goose was certainly going to work for this gander. And they'd ballparked it for her. Windows were flying open on her screen. Level 7 - she knew it ballparked there and up. Something they wanted was sitting in that area. And if they were looking for it, she could too now. Better still, they probably didn't know who they were dealing with, or that she could, with some effort, follow the breadcrumbs back to them. Locking down information gates as she went. All the while pulling up comm signals and filtering out where agents she could trust were. "Agent May? We've got a mess in Operations.." Not to mention a rundown of what information she could glean as things started opening up to her once the clearance went in. Abe.. fish-man.. she knew him. There was a start.. But the piece de resistance was going to be the director himself.. He might not appreciate the efforts she went through, but he might just appreciate it once it was in place. She was saving a special smile just for him. 

:'''{{#var:1028|Jessica Drew (1028)}} has posed:''' Jessica Drew doesn't specifically have a spider sense, not in the traditional sense, however she does have some particularlly well developed situational awareness, thanks in no small part to the highly personalized training shse received from the Taskmaster, and when the two agents behind her start to fire on her she is quick to react, almost anticipating it as she takes hold of the top of the doorframe, and flips herself through and up, perching her backside against the point the wall meets the ceiling and using her electrostatic cling to hold her in place as she surveys the situation before her before launching herself across the room, making a quick, evasive move across the room towards the office of one Natasha Romanov, "We've been infiltrated." She calls out, moving to put her super strength to the test in trying to force open the door, using that static cling of hers to anchor to the floor, and the door, to get that extra leverage she might need. 

:'''{{#var:1200|Kenan Kong (1200)}} has posed:''' The problem with super hearing is you hear SO MUCH. Kenan generally has to use one ability at a time, from the six he currently knows. It is a matter of concentration, the more things he tries to do at once, the less he can do with each. Super hearing is the hardest power to handle, but he knows there are 5 people in the hall alive and active before the door opens. He concentrates his energy to his stomach, becoming nearly Invulnerable, and steps between the agents and those he is with. He strides quickly forward, ready to act as a living shield should these people attack, but stays back and lets them act first. If they are friendly, Agent May can hopefully order them to stand down. 

:'''{{#var:229|Winter Soldier (229)}} has posed:''' A point to this? Claire replies, dry. "Gonna need a lot more than a hundred to buy /that/," Bucky says, before he heads out into whatever-the-hell is going on. The five Agents are immediately noticed, though he hesitates half a moment before taking any action. Friendly or hostile? He doesn't have much of a middle ground between 'ignore' and 'immediately kill.' The instincts of the Winter Soldier were not trained and honed towards the word 'subdue.' Fortunately others seem to. With May and Takeda handling the Agents, Bucky stands watch long enough to give Claire time to stabilize the fallen Agents. The news there's a mess in Operations brings his jaw to tighten. "Agent," he relays to May, "Probably best to shoot straight to Ops. This building is already compromised somehow, and it's gotta be cut off fast." 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' Spying the loading efforts in the hangar, Abe Sapien dives onto the deck and scrambles for cover behind a stack of industrial storage containers. He peeks again and then calls out: "Updated challenge phrase--complete it and identify yourselves! 'I am a lone wanderer on a beach of glass...'" As he makes his call, Abe attempts to position himself so that he could get a shot off on one of the loading crew, although, given the large amount of maneuvering space in the hangar, it's not /that/ secure. At the same time, one hand quickly moves to his belt, where he activates a tracking device with an electronic alert beacon to signal his position to support staff. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "I'll start saving up, then," replies Claire breezily to that unending chain of snark -- multitasking sass with everything else on hand. It does not take long for her eye to hone on on fallen persons. "James," she entreats of Bucky, a quiet request he cover her -- he's already on it -- as she knees down to the first of the fallen agents. Her eyes are calm and her expression flat with habit, as she takes the steps to assess first if they are alive, and to ensure the position and intensity of their wounds. Her deft nurse's hands work to treat on-the-spot, like a war field medic, lacking tools save for her own quick thinking. She knows she can't do anything more than the basic -- stop bleeding and keep their mortality extended to hours instead of minutes. Hands already covered in blood, she stands, listening -- ready to follow the rest into Operations. 

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanova (93)}} has posed:''' At the clicking sound, Natasha waited but no one opened the door. She heard the gunshot outside and turned to the locking mechanism. Taking a step back, she raised her arm to fire her Widow's Bite when she heard the voice outside her door. She takes up her spot to the side of the door again, not trusting that the voice isn't someone trying to draw her into the line of sight. Only when Jessica comes through does she lower the muzzle of her weapon back to the ground for a moment. Her gaze flicks over the other woman, using those skills she has honed through decades to read if there is deception involved. It doesn't seem like it. but it could be she's just that good. "Who's attacking us?" she asks simply as she moves to the door, glancing out briefly to be sure the way is clear before stepping into the hallway. 

:'''{{#var:347|Nick Fury (347)}} has posed:'''     Time slows as the doors open and the combat begins for May's team. The thrown knives from May's hands slice through the protective clothing and pierces the arm of one of the Agents forcing him to drop his gun with a "Yeow!" As Takeda takes aim, and uses her powers, two of the Agents scream as though on fire! The sound of buzzing is evidence that all five Agents comms and electronic devices all fry. Both of them crumble to the ground, writhing in agony!     The third and forth Agent open fire at Kenan, as he places himself in the way. Thankfully he was there, or there would have been casualties! Their shots were accurate and precise...these Agents were trained...and not on the side of the good guys! As Takeda's powers hit the last three though, it was over quick. They were out!     That left the two downed men to be looked after by Claire, and her guardian, the Winter Soldier. One was gone, shot through his left ear into his brain. The other was gasping for air, shot through her left lung. Her eyes widen as she sees Claire...and Bucky standing over her. "Hy...dra." She gasps, and coughs up blood, gasping for air. She falls unconscious, but thanks to Claire's skills, she will live.     Skye was smart. It was a trap. Skye was good enough to notice that, whoever was on the other side of this, they had set that subroutine up just for that opportunity to steal a level 7s codes. As Skye gains more and more control, including the view from some, but not all, of the security monitors, she notices that someone was in adavnced R&D...and a lab that, until now, never existed. Reddish pink mask. Sword. Who was that? And who was the blue guy in the hanger bay?     As Frank grabs the first Agent by the throat, and lifts him from the ground. The second cowers away from him, and fires her gun. She misses left, and dives for the table she had been interviewing Frank from! In a gasping voice, the man who Frank is holding, gasps, "Hail Hy...dra." Gasping for breath, he tries to breathe.     Both Agents open fire on Agent Drew, and think they have her dead to rights...until she flips and does her spider thing. As Jessica exits the room to try and get Natasha's door open, they scramble to come back out into the Hall and the chaos there. The door to Natasha's room does budge...just a bit...letting Natasha out! However, time is running out for both Natasha and Jessica as they take aim at both Romanova and Drew!     Abe's code word challenge was ignored. Well, until he heard the gunshots ringing off his cover. It was obvious that they were not Agents of SHIELD, but Agents of something else. The shot Abe gets off is extremely accurate though, tapping one of the Agents loading the goods right between the eyes. The other three pause, blink, and watch as the man crumples to the deck. They return fire, just as Skye receives Abe's signal.     "Agent Johnson! Why am I wet? What the hell are you doing on my Level 7 and up comm channel...?" A pause, as Fury stared back at her. This time he wasn't hiding the anger in his face. "...and WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!?" 

:'''{{#var:5|Melinda May (5)}} has posed:''' With the non-SHIELD agents downed, May goes to retrieve her knives and at least one sidearm from them. From the looks of the agents these guys essentially assassinated, they dont' deserve mercy. But, keeping some alive to find out what the hell they want is always useful, so the 'subdue if possible' instruction stays. For now. "Takeda, let's move." She is trusting Barnes to not only take care of Temple and Kong, but achieve the objective of securing the armory before heading to Operations. She's got a side trip planned before heading that way herself. "Skye, Takeda and I are heading to the hangar bay to secure the jets." And the honestly scary amount of weaponry they all carry. Everyone on channel, coordinate through Skye." 

:'''{{#var:1377|Frankenstein (1377)}} has posed:''' Frankenstein has no knowledge of the building, but he does know Hydra. Hydra (all idiotic dodges aside) means Nazi. Nazi means toy. Grinning he whispers "if you want to keep your arms attached to your body point the way to where your reinforcements are. We are taking a trip." If he hesitates, fingers are broken until cooperation is achieved. If successful he heads towards Ops...or wherever pointed, removing obstruction along tje way. 

:'''{{#var:1028|Jessica Drew (1028)}} has posed:''' "Not sure, Hydra maybe." Jessica says in response to Natasha, holding the door just long enough for the Black Widow to make her way through. "Heads up, break room!" She calls out, bringing a leg up to the edge of the door and doing a backflip away from the door, "I've got the one on the left." she says as she brings her hands up and fires off a blast of her spider venom, illuminating the control room in the green glow as the bio-lightning arcs across the room right at one of the intruders that chased her from the break room. 

:'''{{#var:1200|Kenan Kong (1200)}} has posed:''' Kenan barely feels the bullets bounce off him, it takes a lot more than that to damage him...well when he is invulnerable anyway. He would have haken care of the enemies, but they were dealt with by...well he is not sure what was done but clearly some other person with super powers. The false agents being dealt with, Kenan returns to Bucky's side, and states, "I have a lot more than just super senses. I have invulnerability, strength, speed, and heat vision also." He will not mention he pretty much has to use them one at a time...not to mention he has limits on when and how he can use them. He puts his earpiece in, having forgotten to do co earlier. He will follow instructions from Barnes'''for now. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Just like she suspected.. They were backdooring their way in. Skye had to admit, it had a certain charm - charm she'd likely appreciate more if she weren't on the invaded side of the equation. Still, she wasn't new to this particular rodeo even by a long shot, and she had subroutines for their subroutines. And if she were better than they were (and she suspected she might be) they weren't going to notice what she was doing. All she needed was for them to use an external source, and she'd have an in to *their* network. Which, ultimately, would be a feather in her cap.. Her fingers tapped in an oldie but a goodie she'd used in the past and had time to tweak since arriving at SHIELD. Those Mothers were going to learn just what happened when they messed with DarkSkye. For the first few moments Director Fury was on her screen, raising hell and yelling at her, that's where her attention was - sending that subroutine back at the invaders. "Now, is that any way to talk to the person who just got you control of your computer systems, Sir?" She tsked softly under her breath, giving him a smirk. "A girl could take that the - " The goings on in R&D and the hangar bay came into view on her monitor in another window.. "Trouble in.." And the sectors were named off, complete with descriptions of what she saw there. "That makes three priority targets." Back to Fury, " - as I was saying, the person who got you your computer systems back on line? I have relay on all secure agents. How do you wish me to proceed?" 

:'''{{#var:1444|Jennifer Takeda (1444)}} has posed:''' Jennifer Takeda dives forwards, rummaging in the guards' equipment belts, using the zipcuffs that are SHIELD standard issue to secure their wrists and ankles. She'll pass on the guns, though. No training with those, she's probably just better off hosing them down with microwaves, or something more lethal if it comes to that. "Copy." See? She can be professional! When she wants to. 

:'''{{#var:229|Winter Soldier (229)}} has posed:''' Hydra. The word freezes the blood in James Barnes' veins, slicking it with the ice of the Winter Soldier. Rage lights in his blue eyes at the very thought of them here. Hydra /here/? How did he not know? Well -- that is consistent with how they used him, he supposes. He was a tool, a weapon. Not something to be told of sweeping plans such as this. The gun doesn't need to know the grand plan to be effectively fired. "Be advised," he relates over the comms, to whoever is patched in. "Hydra involvement." His gaze flicks back towards Kenan. He takes in the information in silence, before he nods. "Well, you got the whole package, huh? Take point. We're heading up. Armory's on the way to Ops. Secure and move on as quick as possible." He takes one of the sidearms from the fallen Agent, checking it before handing it off to Claire. "Don't shoot me, I don't care how much you might wanna sometimes," is his whole instruction for her, before he presses the group up towards the armory -- and the operations room beyond. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' A chorus of sharp PING-TING-PTINGTANG-PINGs resounds off the container behind which Abe Sapien hides. He kneels and fires a pair of shots blindly before leaping, and then somersaulting, toward another container for cover. Once he's there, he turns his attention--and the few rounds of ammo he has left--toward the quinjet and its engines. Abe reaches for a spare clip and, finding an empty pouch, exhales deeply through his nose. "This would have been easier with poltergeists," he says to himself, shrugging. "But I suppose you can't always get what you want." Then, Abe begins looking for equipment to repurpose for anti-aircraft work. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Hydra: at the same time, the word comes like a shock to Claire Temple, a surprise dunk in a hypothermic tank. Her jaw tightens and her eyes darken; she turns a glance up at Bucky Barnes, needing to confirm he heard it too. Seeing the fury burn a deadly fuse beneath the features of his face, the nurse soon gets her answer. "Jesus Christ," she mutters under her breath. "We're firing on SHIELD personnel: how long do you think this was going on?" Either way, there's no time to answer rhetorical questions. With seconds instead expended to advise the living agent to stay still and wait, Claire wipes blood off her hands onto her jeans, and follows up where May needs them to be. On the way, Bucky proffers her a gun. Claire gives the weapon a reticent look before she takes it up, only a novice training's showing in the way she handles the weapon. His snark centers her; it brings a small twitch to her mouth while the rest of her circuits in a vicious loop of adrenaline. /Hydra is here./ Once they do reach Operations, her eyes widen. Maria Hill is the first anything Claire homes in on -- not out of recognition, but because the woman is bleeding out. The night nurse's first reflex is to save. 

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanova (93)}} has posed:''' Bringing the Glock up, Natasha aims at the man on the right. Only the gun doesn't bark. Instead there is a crackle of energy and a moment later the man is hit by the electrical shock from her Widow's Bite. She's immediately moving his direction. A pair of zipties are pulled out and he's cuffed before she stands, glancing in the direction of Operations. "This is Agent Merrill. So if this is Hydra, anyone could be a one of them. This day just is getting better by the minute. We need to get to Operations, see if wee can find out what is going on and make sure it isn't taken by the enemy." Then she hears the chatter starting up on the comms again. She taps her unit. "Agent Johnson. Agent Drew and I are almost to Operations." Almost doesn't really bode well in this mess. 

:'''{{#var:347|Nick Fury (347)}} has posed:'''     Everyone snaps to, as May directs. It was obvious she was used to being in command, and her commands were very effective. Takeda gets all she needs from the goons that attacked them, and more. Next stop, the Hanger Bay and Agent Sapien.     Bucky's words were ice cold water on everyone as they all heard it. Hydra. Not only does it shock Claire, it shocks them all. This would be a tough road, but they could do it. Bucky's massive combat experience kicks in, as he leads the team to the Armory, and then to Ops     Kenan, Barnes and Claire interrupt something at the Armory, a short distance from Ops. Strangely, no Hydra Agents had appeared in their way, until they reach the Armory. This time, the two Agents trying to get into the Armory weren't ready for them.     It doesn't take long for Bucky and his team as soon as they turn the corner to take them down! It had been a great plan to stop these Agents from getting their hands on the SHIELD advanced weaponry     Ensuring it was secured, they walk towards OPs and arrive at Chaos! A firefight was going on, as Agent shoots at Agent, and several wounded and dying Agents were moaning and lying on the deck! It was a disaster! That was when Claire spies Deputy Director Maria Hill bleeding out at the command centre!     Skye had been right. It was a war on two fronts. The physical, and the electronic. Whoever it was, he or she was smooth. Not brash. Almost asian in softness, touch and sophistication. Skye was familiar with the method. Perhaps Chinese? It was a cat and mouse game. So far, she was winning, gaining more and more systems back...almost like the hacker on the other side was distracted. R&D was a tougher nut to crack than he thought. And the Baron was getting angry!     Frankenstein's interrogation methods were quite effective. The Agent nods, and points towards the hallway, and up, gasping for breath. A set of emergency stairs were located there. However, before Frank leaves, the other Hydra Agent, the female one, attacks and tries to shot the "map", or male Hydra Agent! "No!" She says, and takes aim!     Drew's shot was right on, taking the Agent in the chest, and putting him down before he could get a shot away. Natasha's shot took the other Agent in the chest as well, a perfect shot. That Hydra Agent got a shot off, but it missed harmlessly, sputtering down the hall and ricocheting off a glass panel, shattering it with a "ksssssttsss." As both Agents head to operations, they get the same scene as Bucky's team, entering at opposite ends of Ops.     Abe's shots ring around the Hanger Bay, but this time, he doesn't hit any targets. What he does do, is get the Agents to drop what they were doing, and scramble away from the anti-grav carts with the advanced Apokalyptian weaponry and equipment. One bad shot could end this all quickly! They fire back at Abe, but they do not realise he has moved. As Abe checks the area, he does not that the hanger chief enginer's gear was sprawled on the hanger floor...right near the fuel line connection.     Sighing loudly, Director Fury just nods, and says, "Thank you Agent Johnson. Continue to monitor. Ensure we deal with the three pressure points. Wait..R&D? Hmmm. Okay." That got a concerned look from Fury. "And Agent Johnson. OPEN MY DOOR!" 

:'''{{#var:5|Melinda May (5)}} has posed:''' May leads Takeda to the hangar bay, knowing the fastest routes and not bothering to be polite about taking down anyone that tries to shoot at them first. Any SHIELDies that don't attack first and seem glad to see a senior agent are advised to hole up in secure locations and to STAY there. It's the best she can offer for now. Once they reach the hangar bay, May takes quick stock of the situation from their not-so-good vantage point. "Sapien, we're at the east entryway of the hangar. Takeda, I want you to disable the quinjet it looks like they were trying to load." She knows the young woman has been using some very subtle-seeming manner of attack on anyone who gets in their way, and she's heard the pop of dying electronics. So here's to hoping the kid has enough 'nuke juice' to fry the electronics in a plane designed to withstand a LOT. "I'll cover you." As she says this, she pulls a pair of almost machete-like blades from under the back of her jacket. 

:'''{{#var:1377|Frankenstein (1377)}} has posed:''' The confederacy of Frankenstein's played off each other's strengths. It was not the "poor" female Hydra agent's fault really. Frankenstein by this point was an icon, figment of horror almost as primal in the collective zeitgeist as the wolfman or the vampire and to see her peer bandied about like a toy by one hand would make it very easy to forget about the incredibly lethal andincredibly large steam cannon, primed and ready to fire in his other hand. Most of him were experienced soldiers so they say her out of the corner of their eye, and didn't hesitate to pivot, putting his body between the soon to be meat and the barrels of lethal death that spun and turned one with another as callibers of bullets more fit for an elephant gun whipped out at that table she was hiding behind likely turning it....and her to meaty pulpy coleslaw unless she handthe luck of the gods. Bouonding for the stairs, he headed up unless Map handboth survived and pointed down. With Map/Hua he handa stopping point, elsewise he lept whole flights at a time looking for anyone stupid enough to say Hail Hydra.... 

:'''{{#var:1028|Jessica Drew (1028)}} has posed:''' "Well this is quite the mess." Jessica Drew says to Natasha as the two make their way towards the Ops center, forcing the door as needed, and once into the command center she glances over towards Natasha, "We take down anyone up and fighting, "Disable not kill." She adds. "If you don't want to get your butt kicked, or blasted, get down!" Jess shouts, she'll then move in, with her lightning quick spider-speed, moving to attack any of the agents that might still be up and active with a flurry of punches, kicks, and spider venom zaps. 

:'''{{#var:1200|Kenan Kong (1200)}} has posed:''' The armory wss no sweat, one quick leap barreling into the two agents at the door and they nevey knew what hit them. The Ops center is a different story. Kenan has no way of knowing who, in Ops, is on their side and who is the enemy. He has only one viable option, use super speed to disarm everyone until someone on his team can vouch for them. He may be slow compared to the Flash, but he is at least thirty times faster than any normal man...when he is concentrating on that. Fortunately he is hard to hit when moving that fast, because his is not invulnerable when working that fast. Granted, he also heals far faster, and he is resistand to friction and some impacts, but that is not quite the same thing. 

:'''{{#var:1444|Jennifer Takeda (1444)}} has posed:'''      "...Hydra." HazMat's hands clench into fists, a green glow starting to shine out from inside her faceplate. "Agent May, we have prisoners. Do we need any more?" Still grumbling under her breath, hopefully quiet enough to not activate her earpiece, she follows May to the hangar      Slowly peering around the doorframe, she settles her eyes on the Quinjet. "I... I think I can do it. I'm not that good at directional EMPs though... There might be some collateral. Unless you don't mind actual damage to it, then I can just take off a wing." 

:'''{{#var:229|Winter Soldier (229)}} has posed:''' Bucky shoots Claire a return glance to the one she aims up at him. He doesn't look at her long, maybe not wanting her to see the degree of the anger in his eyes. "Even if this is the first time they've set foot in here," he answers, "that's already way too goddamned long." He pushes them on after the surviving agent is stabilized. The scuffle at the armory is very brief, courtesy of their firepower, but Operations? When you don't know who is who, things get a lot more difficult. Quick blue eyes assess the situation, noticing Natasha's entry at the other end of the Operations room. He catches her eyes briefly, a wry nostalgic look in his own, before his attention returns to Claire. "Come on," he says. He moves in escort of her, hurrying her through the firefight to the downed Maria Hill's side. Stray bullets he deflects into the floor or wall harmlessly with his steel left arm; that same arm strikes out to incapacitate any hostiles that come much too close. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' "Crankypants much," Skye mutters under her breath, going to work on getting thee Director's door to release from its lock and load position. Brow furrowing as she not only went through the necessary measures to unlock Fury's door, but to track where the known agents were. "We're got folks in two of the three locations. Anyone got eyes on R&D?" With Fury's sudden concern once he'd lit upon that area, and not seeing anyone in the immediate vicinity other than the sword weilding dude.. Speaking of which, "There's a hostile in the hangar bay. In a funky blue pantsuit." The other niggled, though. The economy of the subroutine. The precision of the access. Nothing was sloppy. The overtones.. she knew a few hackers out of the East. Horizon. Saffron. And someone who Skye didn't know much about: LotusFlower. She just couldn't pin it down. All while hoping.. hoping.. they'd hook in an external and upload her little backdoor. She was counting on it going in under.. and that's when it hit her: how she could force that little issue, the woman digging into files and pulling up some she hoped she could use sa traps, under the guise of pretending to lock them down. All she had to do was make them look like SHIELD didn't want them found.. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' "Agent May," Abe responds in a calm voice over the comms while rounds continue to echo through the hangar, "I may have a suggestion. I am out of ammunition, but we cannot let that quinjet take off. There's a bundle of gear near its fuel connection--if you can ignite it, we may at least be able to prevent the Apokoliptic equipment from departing." Abe clears his throat. "However, the result may be 'apocalyptic' for us, as well, if the quinjet causes a chain reaction of explosions through the hangar. But it seems highly preferable to the alternative, especially without someone like Liz--Agent Sherman--to mitigate the damage." He continues: "I can rush in if needed, but it's a kill cup, for sure. I'll defer to your judgment." The BPRD agent closes his eyes briefly and rests his head against the container providing him with cover. "In the meantime, I will hole up here and dream of sirens singing to me from the deep." 

:'''{{#var:1444|Jennifer Takeda (1444)}} has posed:''' Jennifer Takeda grins at May's letting her choose, cracking her fingers before stepping around the doorframe. SHe stretches out her hands and a beam of sickly green light connects her and the left wing root, the teen gritting her teeth asd she continues to advance, pumping energy into the plane. If it doesn't blow, metal should start dripping off that thing any second now... If any of the people near the Quinjet start shooting at her, she diverts one hand to hit them with the same beam of nuclear hellfire, aiming for the torso. She's starting to glow as well, the light visible through her visor. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' At the armory, Claire doesn't fire a bullet from her own gun. No need to -- no desire to, either. It's a last resort she'll save for dire times. She'll leave the combat to the experts. Her own expertise only kicks into play the instant they reach Operations, and the night nurse wastes no time to return to duty. Thankfully, only a glance over to Bucky is enough to galvanize him to escort her over, playing a deft, agile blockade that keeps her low and unseen through the traded gunfire. Amidst it, she too recognizes Natasha's familiar face, among others bringing in reinforcement at the other end of the room. Her eyes wide, alert, her glance is brief, before her attention undoubtedly returns to the job. "Keep me covered," she says of Bucky, a tinge of wryness and gratitude to her voice like she doesn't doubt he will, before she takes a quick dash to hunker down at the unconscious Maria Hill's side. And just like that, the nurse gets to work -- with no tools than to apply pressure of her own bare hands on that bleeding wound, grimness tensing her face to find an exit wound. Not good. 

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanova (93)}} has posed:''' The caveat to the instructions on how to take them down has Natasha wondering if that was meant for her or Jessica was reminding herself. No matter. Immediately she is diving to the side, avoiding a shot aimed her direction. A shot of electricity takes down the shooter. Her eyes flick to the other group entering from the opposite side of the room and she pauses a moment. No, they don't seem to be attacking the personnel trying to defend their positions. She meets Bucky's gaze and she gives an almost imperceptible nod. With that, she holsters her Glock and drops the tonfas out of her wristbands, extending them to full length and firing them up with a soft hum of power, causing them to glow blue. Then she leaps over a console, landing in front of one of the presumed Hydra agents and taking him out with a series of blows to the body, all punctuated with a flow of electricity that hs him down in moments. Then she is moving to the next. 

:'''{{#var:347|Nick Fury (347)}} has posed:'''     All of the Agents May passes acknowledge her, and do as they ask. Only the main areas had come under attack, as the Hydra Agents had infiltrated only those places they wanted to secure. Hanger. Armory. R&D and Ops. The Hanger appears to be under control of three Hydra Agents...at least, those May, Takeda and Sapien can see. As May and Takeda decide what to do next, the Quinjet's engines start up! Abe's idea of "Apokalyptian" reactions may be their only alternative to the "weapon" that Takeda had at her fingertips...decisions, decisions. That was when Jennifer takes a chance, and fires at the wing! As she advances, the wing begins to glow...and it starts a chain reaction as the Quinjet blows into a thousand pieces, scattering debris everywhere...the shock wave heading directly at Takeda, May, Abe...and the fuel lines!     Frank took down the female Agent easily with his weapon, followed by Frankenstein's "map" taking him towards Ops. Most of the action had calmed now, and no one was going to stop Frank from getting to his goals. As he approaches Ops, he can see a team of Agents ahead of him...Winter Soldier, Claire and Kenan.     As Jessica and Natasha arrive on deck, several Agents listen to her orders, and duck their heads down, knowing who had just walked on deck. They must be SHIELD. There are six who decide to aim at Jessica and Natasha, and open fire instead! They must be Hydra!     Kenan's super speed is fast enough to disarm several of the Hydra Agents, especially the ones firing, but the last few duck and cover as they see what is happening to their comrades! With Natasha's help, the two of them work in a coordinated strike, with Jessica working as backup! The Hydra Agents try and get away, but it didn't work out well for them as they find themselves weaponless, unconscious, and the rest looking shell shocked!     Winter Soldier's protection of Claire was extremely effective as they set up beside Maria's near-lifeless body. She was going to owe Bucky, and Claire big time. Claire can easily tell that she has lost a lot of blood thorugh a gunshot wound to her left upper chest. She was pale and clammy, with raspy, shallow breath. She didn't have long. Claire, however, works her magic, and tries to stop the bleeding. It will buy her some time, but she needs a Doctor and sickbay asap. The Battle for Ops was over.     Skye was extremely effective. It was a subtle game they played. The code was familiar. Someone she knew. Someone working for Hydra. All of this was a distraction...so that Baron Zemo could get something out of a previously invisible area in R&D. Suddenly Zemo looks up at the camera, waves, and the camera blinks out. However, Skye was successful. A backdoor that her opponent did not notice.      

:'''{{#var:1377|Frankenstein (1377)}} has posed:''' Frankenstein looks at Map and says, "Are any of these guys Hydra?" Not that he would trust Map per se..but he is really hoping the stupid ones will self identify. He looks at Bucky, Kenan and Claire, "Are you? 

:'''{{#var:1028|Jessica Drew (1028)}} has posed:''' Into the fray goes Jessica Drew, the agents still up draw her attention, especially when they aim their guns at her and Natasha. She launches herself at them, the first gets a heavy kick to the head, the other is thrown down in an acrobatic manuever that brings her into the next with another kick. She turns, aims one of her fist at another, firing a blast of bio electricity into a fourth. The routine continues as she moves through the fight, working to stun and disable any of those still up. 

:'''{{#var:1200|Kenan Kong (1200)}} has posed:''' Once the enemy agents in Ops are under control, Kenan switches to X-ray vision long enough to locate some medical supplies, then uses speed to get those into the hands of the Night Nurse. He will offer, "I lack medical skills, but I can see if there is a bullet, and use my heat vision to cauterize a wound if needed and properly directed." 

:'''{{#var:5|Melinda May (5)}} has posed:''' Letting Takeda unleash radioactive hell on the quinjet, May rushes toward Sapien's location and the fuel tanker with tools scattered there. She's nearly to the scattering of equipment when the hangar's fire supression system starts alarming, and right when the wing explodes, huge gouts of fire-retardant foam starts pouring down over everything. May can only curse and abandon her original plan, instead trying to get to Abe to pull him clear of this mess before it gets too deep to see through. It's a close thing, but she finds the BPRD agent, snags him by one arm, and drags him along to the nearest exit. She's relying on her spatial memory of the hangar bay, because with the noise of the siren and the white foam rapidily reaching knee then hip-deep, there is no way to see where she's going. And she is NOT writing the report for this. 

:'''{{#var:1444|Jennifer Takeda (1444)}} has posed:''' Jennifer Takeda ...Probably shouldn't have done that. But it's too late to worry about that now. She's knocked sprawling by the first blast, but scrambles to her feet again and sprints towards the large convenient red buttons mounted on the wall, and marked FIRE SUPPRESSION SYSTEM. Extra fortunately, something's already broken the glass, so it's just a matter of slamming the button, adding a new klaxon to the mix of ones already going off, and watching as foam starts to flood from the vents in the ceiling. The fuel tanks and piping are swiftly buried in several feet of foam, the mass of white expanding towards the onlookers. Standing out very well in her neon yellow and black, she bounds through the sea and grabs Abe's other arm, helping May drag him to the nearest wall, and then out the door to relative 'safety'. She pants for breath, leaning against the wall. "W-well... They're not stealing shit. ...And why do you have trucks in an indoor hangar?" 

:'''{{#var:229|Winter Soldier (229)}} has posed:''' Are you Hydra? Bucky is asked, by holy shit what is that?? He tenses, where he's standing watch over Claire and Maria Hill. "...No," Bucky says, a little grit to his tone, because... too soon. Too soon on that question. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' "Fuuuuuck," Skye bites out as R&D goes dead. Even as the single blip in the bottom left window on her screen suddenly blinks a cursor of success. She had to bite back a sound of triumph. The comm links.. she couldn't guarantee they were secure. And now that she was in.. Skye quickly cut that connection, and let her subroutine do its work. She'd be able to get into their systems later. "I've lost eyes on R&D!" With folks everywhere they could be but there, Skye did the next best thing to being there to hinder the invadors: she locks everything down that she can. Every last door, light, video camera, and system that she was able to from where she sat, other than the comm links. If she was blind, they were going to be too. Everyone was going to rely on verbal now. "You better love me for this, Fury," she mutters, letting something of her triumph over the backdoor success she'd made leak through. As soon as things settled down, she had an appointment with the Director. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' There are few words in the English dictionary to describe how Claire Temple reacts to being asked if she's Hydra. While she's on her knees, bent over Maria Hill's hanging-on body, up to her forearms swathed in blood. "Do I look like Hydra?!" she sputters. "Hell to the no!" To Kenon's offer, the night nurse's expression mollifies, grateful. "Exit wound -- no bullet. For real, though? Great. If you can cauterize, I'll show you where it needs to go." And with that hopefully handled, there Claire will spend the rest of her time and energy: seeing to the injured. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' As he comes to a stop in the large corridor outside the hangar to which he's been dragged, Abe coughs, lying on his back. He groans, rubbing his shoulder. "That ... that was less smooth than I wanted. But," he adds, "it was certainly much more enjoyable than I expected things to turn out." Abe offers a polite smile to Jennifer and a nod to May, and he pushes himself up on his elbows to a seated position. The lower half of his body is covered with a thick coat of suppressant foam. "I know I often seek out mission variety so that I'm not always having to search lakes and the like," he says. "But I hope you'll agree, Agent May, that it seems reasonable I focus on that particular quality for the time being. The 'normal' world ..." He shakes his head. "I'm just not so sure how to deal with it." 

:'''{{#var:347|Nick Fury (347)}} has posed:'''     As Operations was wrapped up, and Jessica takes down the last of the combatants, it was truly over. Several people were arrested, and that was when Fury makes an appearance. Looking around, Fury frowns, and says, "Man, how did this happen? Gonna take a lot of work to clean up this mess." Looking around the room, Fury says, "Thank you everyone. I won't bore you with a Captain America speech. Just that, without your help, this could have been a lot worse. You have my, and SHIELDS gratitude." Tapping his comlink in his ear, Fury adds, "That goes for you as well, Agent Johnson. We won this battle. We'll get them back for R&D. As for the rest, we'll talk." That was when the lights went out, and emergency power came on. "Sigh."     The "map" shakes his head, and gasps as Frankenstein's grip was a little painfully. No, a lot painful. "No. You got them all, I think." Is all he says. Fury looks at Frankenstein, and nods, "Thank you for your help. We'll have to chat further, later. When things settle." Chuckling a bit at Bucky's discomfort, Fury shakes his head. "I think you proved that. Not Hydra."     Kenan's quick thinking probably saves Agent Hill's life. When Kenan zooms over there, Fury notices Hill and Claire working on her for the first time, and moves as fast as he could without looking like he was moving as fast as he could. Fury puts his right hand on Kenan's shoulder, and nods, whispering, "Thank you, son. Well done." Kneeling down, he looks at Claire, and then at Maria, and says, "Hang in there Maria. Hang in there." As medical personnel show up to take her off Claire's hands, Fury's eyes find Claire's, and a moment passes between them. A nod and a silent thank you.     The building shakes from the explosion down in the hanger bay, but it is quickly under control as Takeda, Abe and May deal with it with a little help from the fire supression system. An update comes through the system to brief everyone. With that, it looks like the last Hydra Agent is accounted for. For now...but what was in R&D that Hydra sacrificed so many of its infiltrators for? 

:'''{{#var:1377|Frankenstein (1377)}} has posed:''' Frankenstein recognizes a POW when he sees one...or worse. Bucky's answer alone is enough for him but seeing Nick is a beacon of reality in a storm of illusions in memory. He sets Map down "That guy is." He puts the steam cannon on safety and tries to be useful. Until told to go to a debriefing room somewhere he will open doors and clear debris. 

:'''{{#var:5|Melinda May (5)}} has posed:''' May regains her feet as quickly as possible, chekcing over the blades in her hands before stowing them away again. "You and me both, Sapien." She is NOT looking forward to the amount of clean up this mess is going to require. 

:'''{{#var:1444|Jennifer Takeda (1444)}} has posed:''' Jennifer Takeda nods. "Yeah, I don't swim. You can have all of that." As the lights go out, she starts to glow a bit brighter, although there's less of the green tinge to it. "...Do you guys have a cafeteria around here? I'm fuckin' starved." 
}}

2567/Heart and Soles

2017-10-09T14:30:29Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/09/24 |Location=Newark, NJ |Synopsis=Several heroes investigate a strange phenomenon occurring in an industrial park near Newark. |Cast of Cha..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/09/24
|Location=Newark, NJ
|Synopsis=Several heroes investigate a strange phenomenon occurring in an industrial park near Newark.
|Cast of Characters=12, 30, 728
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Parkour! The ancient art of freestyle running! Parkour! Practiced by ne'er-do-well urban monks around the globe! Parkour! The scourge of industrial park guards throughout Newark! In this particular park, there have been numerous reports of parkour-practicing ruffians. And /these/ ruffians are especially noteworthy because--as the security guards continue to swear--they're NOT HUMAN! Even now, on this late evening, a quartet of slightly illuminated figures backflips their way off a factory railing before taking turns leaping from bench to bench near an employee parking lot. And, not far off, a giant insect-shaped airship floats in the sky. From beneath it, holding tight to a strong metal cord, hangs a man in a blue costume. He watches the goings-on below with interest. 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arttursson (30)}} has posed:''' Unable to sleep many a night, Vorn has decided to make his way to Newark to see what may be going on. The large being was hopscotching from roof top, to roof top doing his very best to remain unseen Of course he had to give pause, when he saw a giant...bug shapped Airship! He blinks not once, but three times. He has seen his fair share of air-crafts...but that one takes the cake. He get out a pair of bonoculars and looks up to see the blue costumed man...who seem to be looking at something else. He followed the gaze to the Parkours who seem to be having some fun. Oh, this was going to be good He begins making his way towards the Parkours, wanting to see if perhaps it was anything of interests going on with them. That and he didn't want to accidently fly into said Airship -he still working on flying! 

:'''{{#var:728|Julian Keller (728)}} has posed:'''      After having shown the fury invaders a thing or two with his gifts, Julian had been on a kick of just feeling great. He took longer flights out this weekend, causing some trouble in Metropolis. But he decided to make his way out to Newark tonight. Nothing like the smell of petrochemical refineries and broken dreams.   Hellion had seen some people practicing parkour, while he did find it interesting, he himself didn't see a need to follow them on it. Why do parkour when you can fly? 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' The freerunners continue their acrobatic, circuitous laps about the industrial park. They manage to remain lit by some faint light in the shadows--and then it becomes clear. They, and the footsteps they leave behind, are luminescent! "Parkour!" one howls. "ParkooOOoOooour!" cries another before its 'landing' causes it to slide effortlessly through a lamppost. It doesn't seem fazed in the slightest. The airship maneuvers toward one of the taller storage towers. The blue-clad man hanging from the airship drops onto the roof. He lands with a loud CLANG and then tumbles down it toward the stairs leading up to the tower's door. "Oh, God, my spleen!" his voice can be heard echoing through the lot. The man lands on the entrance to the tower and clutches his knee, rocking back and forth for a few moments. The extraordinary parkour enthusiasts suddenly, as if on cue, turn their route--and their attention--toward the source of the sound, moving much, much faster than could reasonably be expected. "PARKOUR!" they roar, cartwheeling and jumpkicking as they go. 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arttursson (30)}} has posed:''' Welp - they didn't seem like they ment trouble! The orcish Vorn's voice soon join the brilliant lit teens as he howls our "PARKOOOOOOUR" with them! They didn't know him, he didn't know them. Vorn did not care, it was fun The fact they were luminecent was interesting in and of itself, especially when it lands through a lamp post. Though he did wonder why the footprints glowed.... Enough of that though! He hears the man cry out 'My Spleen' and he seems to simply change priorities. The being begins to scale the tall building with relative ease. Well he cheated a bit - he can at least fly upwards even if his manvibility sucked. As such he was soon enough upon the same roof as the man who landed and looked towards him. "Hey! You alright!?" he calls out in a deep beastial yet booming voice. 

:'''{{#var:728|Julian Keller (728)}} has posed:'''      "What the hell are these guys doin?" Julian snerks at the group. Though Ted's calls for his poor spleen only gets a laugh before he flies over to the sound of the groans, if only to bear witness to the group of parkour hoodlums about to descend on the group. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "I ... I was here to investigate some ruffian types!" the Blue Beetle shouts, pulling himself to his feet and limping slightly. "What's even happening?!" he asks, looking about at the sudden arrival of potential allies (or enemies!). Down below, the ghostly parkour-ers [is that a word? I guess so -- Ed.] flip over Jersey barriers and launch themselves off of the parking lot exit sign. "Parkoooour!" they wail. "We ... must ... parkour!" Blue Beetle scratches the back of his neck, even as he tenses for a potential fight atop the tower's staircase. "They /must/?" he asks, his voice quiet. "Yes!" the ghosts shout. "It is our curse!" "Well," Beetle sighs. "I've got nothing. How about you all?" 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arttursson (30)}} has posed:''' Vorn blinks "You guys are Ghosts!!!!" he exclaims. Well this explains alot. But it brought up questions "We do not supposed....you want this curse lifted, or are you fine being like this? If not....we might be able to help?" After all - these ghost might like being like this! But none the less he slides over to Blue Beetle and helps him to his feet "No clue, Vorn never delt with Ghost before. Delt with a demon once...well helped. Some other folks did the whole capturing thing" he tells Ted. "Are you alright?" he asks Beetle. Well seems he is an Ally! And hopefully those Ghosts do not attack them He looks to Julian and cants his head at him "They are parkouring. We would think this was evident by the constant shouting of the word Parkour" he tells him. Captain Obviouse it seems! 

:'''{{#var:728|Julian Keller (728)}} has posed:'''      Julian raises an eyebrow to Vorn, his cobalt eyes just are in awe at the two.   "Well, that's a thing I guess." He offers at the thought of the ghosts. Not much a telekinetic can do to help, not that he would. Hellion Just scoffs at the group, unsympathetic to the plight. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Indeed--we ARE ghosts!" one of the spectral freerunners intones. "Our tale is a tragic one..." The Blue Beetle, meanwhile, groans and covers his face with one hand. "Just my luck," he mumbles. The ghost continues: "We were once pirates--MUSIC pirates! We lived above ... a shoe store that once ... was here! But our desire for the freshest sounds ... led us to scramble the computer systems of ... the construction crews that wanted to steamroll the building!" Another ghost chimes in. "We were thus cursed even as we cursed those who caused our demise ... as we were crushed by the demolition crews' equipment. Because we interfered ... with the plans of the store ... we must show off the dope kicks ... that once were on sale!" The ghost points eerily to its feet. "Beneath this very parking lot ... are the ruins of Davy Jones' Foot Locker, its crushed cash register heart!" The ghosts stare at the heroes. "Would you help we pirates finally find rest?" Blue Beetle continues to mutter. "I hate my life." He sighs and looks at Vorn and Julian. "I--I've made some questionable choices in my life, fellas. I really hope I'm just hallucinating somewhere peaceful right now, I'll be honest." 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arttursson (30)}} has posed:''' Vorn listens rather attentively to the ghosts his face never showing what he is thinking. But than he laughs "By Juthuum! We do not know what kind of messed up shoe monster you fellas pissed off, but oh are we glad we are not in your shoes" did he just pun? He just punned. He slaps Blue on the back "Ahh, do not hate your life, let other people do that for you! Vorn is sure we are not hallucinating...if we are than the folks here need to really work on their air quality" he hefts Blue by the shoulder with a tight Squeeze and would probably have Julian in the other arm if Julian wasn't flying right now "Sure we can help but you fellas to rest!" He licks a tusks "So, lead the way!" he was just jump head first into this wacked out adventure it seems. A side glance to Blue "Also, Vorn can help heal your spleen...or leg if you do not mind things getting a bit weird" 

:'''{{#var:728|Julian Keller (728)}} has posed:'''      "Is this shit what acid feels like? I mean really?" The hovering telekinetic just keeps to the air, trying to figure out if he should stick around, or just fly away and forget anything ever happened. "Ghosts forced to parkour, Davey Jones' foot locker? What in the F&@$." 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "We may be redeemed in ... one of TWO ways!" one of the ghosts says, ascending the stairs by leaping back and forth across the rails. "Unearth our ... bane--the cash register left behind when the store was wrecked!" "Or," the ghost continues, "show off your freerunning skills ... and take the parkour crown." "It's metaphorical," another adds, grinning. "Not ... literal!" "Indeed," says the first. "Bring the ill. Bring the thrill." Blue Beetle claps his hands and waves them in imitation of a casino worker. "Nope. I'm out. My knee is toast right now." He pats his waist. "I don't even have one-use ice packs on me. I don't even have a utility belt to carry them in." He sighs. "I bet Batman keeps them on hand." "Well ..." the ghosts ask in unison, "what will it be?" 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arttursson (30)}} has posed:''' Vorn looks to Blue "Like Vorn says he can give your a hand with that" but he shrugs at the Beetle before looking up to Julian "Do not be ridculouse. Acid is waaaaay worse than this. Trust us on that. If anything else....Vorn would say it more like eating the fish taco at Sandy Plantans Shrimp Taco Stand" he shiver "We do not recommond doing that!" But than he faces the ghosts "Hmmm, unearth a cash register, or run free. Cash register WOULD be easier, but Parkour sounds WAAAAAAY more fun. Vorn will accept this challenge of the free run!" he gives pause. Oh lord some building are going to hate him after this. 

:'''{{#var:728|Julian Keller (728)}} has posed:'''      "I don't really do parkour, never needed to. Cause I can fly." He offers, before looking around. "If the register is in the ground, I could probably help with that...I guess." Julian still doesn't know exactly why he's still here. "So there, Unless you are good enough to beat them." 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Looking back and forth between Vorn and Julian, the Blue Beetle sighs. "Okay. Why doesn't ... Vorn? is that right?" he asks, pausing for a moment. "Why doesn't Vorn help with the one, and you, my man, you help with the other?" he continues, glancing to Julian. "It is thus ON!" the ghosts cry ecstatically, and then they're off grinding down the stair rails in their ectoplasmic sneakers, banking off a nearby building wall by running Matrix-style to change direction. "Hack the planet, or whatever," Beetle calls out. "Buddy, if you can get that register up from underground, I have the feeling we can let these spirit morons get out of our hair." 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arttursson (30)}} has posed:''' "Yes, we are called Vorn" he says, speaking in plural apparently. "But yes, this plan is agreeable with Vorn" he grins wider seeming to get amped up for this. Lightning actually seems to circle his limbs with his excitment. But as the ghost take on he blinks "Hey! You could have given Vorn a warning we would start immediatly!" he exclaims! Great now he has to catch up. But before though he lightly bonks Beetle upside the head "Respec da dead man! It just common courtasy!" And with that he begisn heading after the Ghosts themselves. He takes off with a sprint quickly gaining speed. As he does so Techno-style synthozied music can be heard comming Vorn and his chest has a line running across it that seem to change with the music beat - a visualizer if you will He jumps onto the building side nd lashes his arm out like a whip to catch a pole....and Jumps! He arcs downward and back up - the pole groaning in protest before he lets go going flying in the direction of the Ghost. Though as he lands he still running after them! 

:'''{{#var:728|Julian Keller (728)}} has posed:'''      "Alright." He offers, only before he begins to cut at the ground, looking to get himself to that register as soon as possible there.   How he cuts is a little different, he will actually use his hand and chop at the pavement, chipping away at the cement and concrete. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Parkooouur!" the ghosts shout as they race Vorn in their seemingly inexplicable course through the lot, diving between girders, swinging from lamps, and leaping across the rooftops of smaller buildings. Blue Beetle stands not far from Julian. He looks about the area, surveying. "Maybe a couple feet to the left?" he asks, squinting as he glances toward the nearest street. "If this used to be a strip mall or the like, I'm guessing that we're nearing the back of what would probably be the main store area." He shrugs. "But I don't have a metal detector on me--although I bet Batman does..." One of the ghosts front-flips off a parked car. "It's ... got to be ... the shoes!" shouts the ghost behind it. 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arttursson (30)}} has posed:''' Vorn growls deeply as he begins to put the pedal to the metal! He continues to dash forward trying to gain to the ghost with Vigore. As his feet pound the ground they seem to almost create tremors! When a car approaches...he seems to just melt into a puddle and glides under the car as formless mass - and continues gliding along. As the Next car comes up it looks like a liquid metal stream surge up and over the car and lands reforming into Vorn without losing a beat He skids around the corner following the ghosts. His form even becomes laughably skinny to squeeze through small what would have been impossibly small gaps created by objects close togeather as he just goes with the flow of whatever he comes across 

:'''{{#var:728|Julian Keller (728)}} has posed:'''      Julian looks to the Blue Beetle a little, moving to the left about where he is told the resister would probably be. He punches the pavement, kicking up chunks of the concrete. His eyes glow green with telekinetic energy. Once he breaks through, he uses a makeshift construct of a telekinetic barrier to dig through the rubble and attempt to find that register. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' The ghosts spin about, somersaulting off of one another in a kind of chained leap-frog stunt, as they continue to try and race Vorn--although he's definitely caught up with them and is soon to outrace them. Even then, the cash register is suddenly unearthed as Julian punches at the asphalt. As time seemingly begins to slow, the ghosts jump, light-footed, off of airborne chunks of pavement and then dive /into/ the cash register. "Approved ... !" the parkour ghosts shout as they dissipate into nothingness. It begins to float into the air a few feet from Julian and Beetle. "I'm sure there's an easy answer for this," Blue Beetle says, hands on his hips. "But--regarding ghosts and dealing with this kind of thing--who're you gonna call?" 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arttursson (30)}} has posed:''' Of course as noted - Vorn was due to outrace the dang Ghosts! So as it stands when the Ghost Leap Frog their way into the cash register, Vorn didn't actually noticed where he was heading untill it was too late He tries to skid to a stop - but ends up tumbling his way towards Julian and Ted! A full on collision course that ends with... A puddle of liquid metal surrounding Ted and Julian feet. It was that or have a 1 ton orc squishing them! But at least he answers "Ghost Busters!!!!" yes his face, completly with tusks was stareing up at the two. Things could be weirder...mabey 

:'''{{#var:728|Julian Keller (728)}} has posed:'''      "Ugh, I swear to god this is the last time I'm coming to New Jersey." Julian offers, wiping off the liquid metal from his shoes. The telekinetic just floats above the puddle now. The dropping of the Ghostbusters joke only gets one reaction from Hellion. "Holy fuck, you both are old." He snips, before he takes off towards Metropolis. 
}}

2741/Beetlemania

2017-10-09T14:29:35Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/10/07 |Location=Constitution Plaza, Metropolis |Synopsis=The Blue Beetle expands his get-rich-quick schemes to rock and roll. It doesn't go so..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/10/07
|Location=Constitution Plaza, Metropolis
|Synopsis=The Blue Beetle expands his get-rich-quick schemes to rock and roll. It doesn't go so well.
|Cast of Characters=12, 1140, 1305, 1439
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' THE RECENT PAST "I'm tellin' ya, buddy boy, this is the /ticket/ to the /big bucks/!" an overweight man in a leisure suit and numerous gold chains says as he gnaws on the end of a robusto cigar. Sighing, the Blue Beetle strokes his chin. "It /would/ fund some important work that needs to be done ..." The hero pauses for a moment before nodding. "Alright, let's make this happen." THE PRESENT "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages, humans, metahumans, and ... whatever else ... bring your hands together for the greatest up-and-coming rock band of the new millennium!" An announcer with an Ed Sullivan-esque microphone strides back and forth across the stage set up outside Constitution Plaza. Behind him, a quartet of musicians is obscured in shadow. "I give you..." the announcer pauses, and the crowd--perhaps about sixty people, all in all, waits with a mix of visible expressions: genuine interest, ironically feigned interest, schadenfreude, boredom, and--rage? "...the BEETLES!" the announcer shouts, and a set of lights illuminate the musicians. On the bass is the Blue Beetle. The other three musicians are orangutans in mop-top wigs with fake guitars and a toy drum set. On a nearby stereo system, a track begins playing, to which the orangutans begin moving around. "I hate my life," the Beetle mumbles under his breath as he, too, pantomimes playing music. In the crowd, a handful of individuals with PETA shirts begin booing and shouting insults. Nearby, a second small crowd with ALF shirts begins shouting its own insults. A third group, with AIM shirts on, moves closer to the stage. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Frank Castle (1140)}} has posed:'''     Frank Castle hadn't been looking for any kind of concert or show, but apparently he found it. He is dressed in a long black trench coat at the moment and stands near the back of the small crowd. His own expression is simply a raised eyebrow as he watches the man with the apes up on stage. "What the hell...." he asks under his breath as he wonders what he wandered into. It is that Watching a Trainwreck mentality that causes him to take a few steps closer to the stage. 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' She's got a trenchcoat on today. What is Clarine's aim here? Did she somehow investigate and find out that AIM would be here? Maybe she did some detective work? Or maybe she was visiting Metropolis to take a look at possible graduate or medical schools? No. She came because she heard there were chimps. She's wearing a t-shirt underneath that trenchcoat that says 'I <3 Monkeys' and is holding a giant stuffed banana in her left arm. The girl is cheering, too,"OH. MY. GOD. IT'S SO CUTE! I WANNA HUG THE MONK-" Oh darnit. The ancient murder machine buried in the back of her skull is shouting "Shenanigans" at her. So the woman sighs, stops cheering, and grabs the hatchet hidden up the back of the bannana without pulling it out. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' As the 'band' continues 'playing' its 'music', two of the three protesting groups slowly become aware of each other's presence--at which point they turn their attentions toward one another. "What the hell, Darrell?" a young woman in an ALF shirt shouts. "You knew this was /our/ turf! Come /on/!" "No way, Christineth," a stocky twenty-something man responds. "Look at this travesty! We've got the better resources to take these torturers /down/." Similar bickering peppers the crowd; the visual effect is that a kind of mosh pit appears to form, although it's pushing and shoving as a result of posturing rather than due to the music. The third group of protestors--those in AIM shirts--almost in unison remove their purses and backpacks to retrieve canisters of ... something ... and then toss them casually at the stage, lobbed like water balloons. They're not water balloons, though, although they break as easily as water balloons! The canisters shatter on impact, dousing the orangutans in a sickly purple liquid. "Oh, God! What's that?! It's hideous! Won't someone think of the animals?!" another crowd member shrieks. Then, there's a loud hissing, and the orangutans' skin begins to bubble, and the creatures start to grow in size, unevenly and toward grotesque proportion. Naturally, the crowd begins to panic--and the AIM agents attempt to disappear into its depths. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Frank Castle (1140)}} has posed:'''     Frank was watching the stage, perplexed and mezmerized, as the apes continued to play so he didn't see the AIM folks moving closer. He is further back just outside the pushing and shoving. This isn't his fight. He isn't getting involved in that, but then the canisters are thrown. "Damn," he whispers under his breath as his hand slips into his trenchcoat, thumbing back the hammer of a .45 stuffed in the pocket. He looks and sees the orangutans begin to grow, but then he is looking towards the crowd, trying to spot who is leaving. He begins to move along the outside of the crowd, trying to circle towards the folks that seem to want to get out while the getting is good. 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' ... "Those are big monkeys." The girl pulls what appears to be a domino mask from her coat, slips it on over her face, and pulls her hatchet out from the banana, which gets dropped on the floor. The hatchet is tossed towards the thigh of one of the fleeing AIM members. Then a sword, improbably large considering it was hiding in her trenchcoat, is drawn out, and she goes stomping in the direction of the stage, sword held high. "I'm about to fight giant mutant monkeys. This is... a really low point for my career as a vigilante. I REALLY need to up my game or something." 

:'''{{#var:1439|Kaydin (1439)}} has posed:'''     A blur moves amongst the crowd and soon a teenager slows down enough to be seen to stare at the apes playing. He continues to stare long enough to see the cannisters get lobbed and he acks as he sees the apes growing in size. "That cant be good." He says as he tries to catch one of the guys leaving, moving fast enough to try and catch the various people and ends up grabbing frank. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' The three doused orangutans flail and thrash about as their limbs elongate, their muscles pop and twist. Soon, three twelve-foot-tall creatures in mussed black mop wigs smash at the stage and fling their instruments at the crowd. Then, they leap into it, chomping and slashing and grabbing. It's pure hell after that--people fleeing in all directions, some snagged by an orangutan and tossed elsewhere like an afterthought before landing in wet thuds on the concrete. "Help!" one of the audience members shouts. A guitar is used like a makeshift club on one PETA protester, who drops like a rock and rolls on the ground. ["Rock and roll," get it? - Ed.] The Blue Beetle is temporarily stunned, having just looked up from his studious bass playing. "What the--?!" he shouts, before looking around and gritting his teeth. "Everybody's got something to destroy, except me..." the costumed hero-turned-rockstar sighs and then reaches for his utility belt. The AIM instigators appear to have shared tactics--don't get caught alone and don't cluster together with the other AIM agents. As a result, they're spreading out in almost all directions in an attempt to maximize the success of their retreat. One is not very lucky in her sprinting away, as she catches a hatchet in the thigh and skids across the ground, crying out in pain. 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' The girl pulls her foot back and boots the screeching AIM agent in the face in a particularly vicious aside as she stomps to the stage. She has to dodge more than a few thrown instruments and implements. She'll have to try to collar the unconcsious one after she gets done doing battle with the... whatever they are now. Space-Apes? Mutant Monkies?" Who knows? She's an immortal, with a few hundred other peoples' brains in her head. None of them with in-context information on how to fight REGULAR apes, let alone mutant ones. So the only thing she really has is dodge, bob, and weave until she approaches one of the beasts and bring her sword down in a two-handed slash at its skull. "EVERYONE PROCEED IN AN ORDERLY FASHION TO THE NEAREST CLOSED BUILDING AND SHELTER IN PLACE. DON'T WORRY, I'M A PROFESSIONAL." Professional student, anyway. 

:'''{{#var:1439|Kaydin (1439)}} has posed:'''     Kaydin has been busy. It isnt easy dragging people away from the beasts as they begin their rampage but he does it, moving with superhuman speed and only really seen in a blur. Once the people were out of the way he begins to circle the apes. "Hey!" He calls out as he weaves and dodges the apes. To him, they moved at a snail's pace, so he could really decide what to do with them. He then appears besides Ted Kord. "Got a plan?" He asks in a slightly hurried tone. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' The Blue Beetle runs toward the nearest of the orangutans--who, luckily, has its back turned to him--and quickly jumps up on its back. He swings his bass guitar around the front of its neck and tries to perform a makeshift sleeper hold on the creature. It gasps for breath, hacking and coughing, and stamps about angrily, kicking a person here and crushing someone's foot there, until it finally passes out--slumping forward on the ground. It makes contact with a loud *BLUMPT* sound. The other two orangutans continue their own frenzied rampages. One of the two bares its teeth at Clarine before its head is split open. It, too, slumps to the ground. The remaining orangutan swats at some speeding figure that seems to materialize near the Beetle. "Uh ... spay and neuter them?" he replies to Kaydin with a deep exhale. "I don't normally fight mutant primates. Well, not ones this hairy. Confine how you can, and we'll try to deal with a cure or treatment." Meanwhile, most of the AIM agents have made it out of the plaza toward their various coordinated withdrawal sites. 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' "Good news! They're not, like, super-tough or anything. Their heads just kind of... you know... split right open." Well. That was, for the incredibly unsentimental vigilante, a rather sad, but useful end to the orangutan-threat. The woman makes her way towards one of the remaining orangutans and faces it down with her sword in another two handed grip. "So... you're saying not to just... kill them right? FINE!" She darts in, trying to drag that blade across the back of the mutant's thigh. "Are these things endangered? I'd feel really bad if they're endangered. Who were those guys anyway!?" 

:'''{{#var:1439|Kaydin (1439)}} has posed:'''     Kaydin runs, grabbing a guitar and circles the orangutans. With some speed he lets out a yell. "EL KABONG!" Kaydin yells as he slams the guitar on one of their heads with enough force to knock a person out and break the guitar. With this he looks for something else he can hit them with. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "THEY'RE KILLING THE ORANGUTANS!" a fleeing PETA protester screams in a blood-curdling voice, and many of the ALF and PETA crews stop and turn to witness Clarine's murder of the rampaging monster. "THIS INSANITY MUST STOP--NOW!" The protesters look for random items that they can weaponize, and they slowly congregate and begin toward the stage. As they near, some begin throwing their found objects at Hoodlum--pieces of broken stage, chunks of rubble, and assorted garbage. "Nobody hurts a living thing on our watch!" they shout, more or less, across a dozen different voices. "You're dead meat!" "Look!" cries another, pointing toward the unconscious orangutan that the Blue Beetle choked out. "They killed a second one, too!" Just then, of course, Kaydin smashes a guitar on the third, which groans in pain and attempts, in a slow, confused daze, to grasp at the speedster. "They're ALL dead!" Rubbing his temples, the Beetle sighs. "What did I expect? These 'Beetles' are really just monkeys, after all." He reaches into a holster at his hip and retrieves ... a cell phone. "Okay, Phone Buddy, call Louie," he says and waits a moment. "Louie. It's the Beetle. We have a small problem, and I need to make sure I can get my plaza performance deposit back." Something that smells like a used diaper hits him in the side of the head. It leaves a trail as it slides down his shoulder and arm before plopping on the ground. 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' A piece of torn rebar attached to a bit of rubble lands itself in her gut. Wedged between her kidneys and some major vessels, there's a lot of blood. She knows from centuries of absorbed memories that it's not a fatal wound. But it really, really hurts. And also, they're throwing things at her. "I'm a living thing. You just hurt me! You don't see the problem here? They were LITERALLY just trying to kill you like a few second ago." The woman draws the bit of rebar out of her abdomen, pulls a piece of cloth from one of her pockets, and tucks it into the hole. Then she's shielding her face with her forearm as she pulls a bottle of water out and splashes her bottle of water on the pool of blood. Then she runs back, still being pelted by trash and rubble. She grabs the downed AIM woman with her hatchet by the back of the neck, stows her sword, and starts running. "Time to go!" 

:'''{{#var:1439|Kaydin (1439)}} has posed:'''     Kaydin ducks and dodges the grasping hands as they come for him. Moving in again with whats left of the guitar and smacks him in the face. Grant this was normal human strength, not speed assisted so probably wouldnt do much. He then notices the woman bleeding out and was going to try and help but she runs off. Naturally this is what distracted him from saving the man from a diaper hat. He runs over, and gives a nervous chuckle. "Sorry about that." He says as he offers him a napkin. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' As Clarine counters the protesters, some of them pause and look at one another. "She ... she makes kind of a point, you know." "But we're fighting for those who /can't/ articulate their sentience!" "I suppose ... but do we want to rely on violent action as our own argument?" As the debate continues, other protesters continue assailing the heroes with whatever crap they can find. The injured AIM provocateuse being dragged away by Clarine attempts to fight, but does so futilely, as she's clearly experiencing intense pain from the hatchet wound she sustained. Blue Beetle manages to aim his gun--which fires powerful bursts of compressed air--to explode a large bag of what must be a combination of Big Belly Burger remnants and chemical waste, which showers back down on the individual who threw it. He grins as Kaydin returns. "Bullseye," he brags. In the distance, the sounds of Metropolis PD sirens can be heard growing louder. "Thank goodness!" a frightened audience member shouts from behind a trash can. "Help is coming!" 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' Clarine can't resist quipping,"You just assaulted a human being unprovoked. You know they're going to arrest you all, right?" Troublemaker. If she hadn't already cut off his head, she'd kill Marquez for something like that. Still... she makes a split decision. She drops the 'captive' near Beetle and Kaydin, reclaims her hatchet (likely provoking another scream), and murmurs to the two heroes,"I would stick around, but I have like... a dozen arrest warrants, I'm pretty sure. But... uh... it was totally great to meet you. I really hope you fix the monkies. Er... Well... other than the one I killed. I mean..." Suddenly she realizes saying all this to professional heroes is MAYBE not the best way to conduct herself. She's bad at heroes. So she waves her hand and tries the Jedi Mind Trick,"This is not the vigilante you're looking for." Not being a Jedi, it does nothing. So instead she starts running again. Hopefully to exit, stage left. 
}}

2665/The Hangover

2017-10-02T14:09:00Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/10/02 |Location=L'anse aux Meadows, Newfoundland |Synopsis=Three SHIELD agents--Melinda May, Skye Johnson, and Abe Sapien (BPRD)--head to an a..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/10/02
|Location=L'anse aux Meadows, Newfoundland
|Synopsis=Three SHIELD agents--Melinda May, Skye Johnson, and Abe Sapien (BPRD)--head to an ancient viking settlement on the Canadian coast to investigate the possibility of Hydra activity. The reality is so much stranger.
|Cast of Characters=1430, 1191, 5
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' The quinjet soars quietly through the late afternoon sky, the wind outside almost inaudible. In one of the jump seats, a fish-man in a tactical vest sits, harnessed. "I'm not entirely sure why I've been assigned to this mission, either," Abe Sapien says. "Sometimes they like to pair us ... 'freaks' ... with the rest of you to unsettle local law enforcement," he adds with a shake of his head. "But I have the feeling this is ultimately going to be some sort of fracking-with-a-coverup situation. You know how it is: mask Hydra weapons tests with industrial operations that don't raise eyebrows." Abe closes his mouth for a moment. "Or do you disagree?" He leans forward, looking to the cockpit. "Or you, Agent May? Have you seen much Hydra activity in Newfoundland? Medee Bay seems a bit remote for them..." 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Strapped in beside the fish-man, Daisy Johnson, Agent-In-Training (or as she's heard often enough these past months: You'll be an agent when I say you're good and ready to be an agent) rolls her eyes. "Doesn't know why /he's/ here," she mutters under her breath, giving stink-eye to the cockpit. She otherwise doesn't comment. This was one of those 'shut up and learn' missions. She was supposed to be grateful she was here at all. 

:'''{{#var:5|Melinda May (5)}} has posed:''' From the cockpit of the quinjet, May replies to Abe as curtly as usual. "No. I haven't." Mostly because she's been splitting her time between trying to keep a certain group of REALLY danger-prone quasi-civilians from kiling themselves and doing milk runs for the Triskelion in general. "ETA five minutes." And yes, Johnson, she heard that. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' Seemingly oblivious to the tension in the jet, Abe nods and checks the straps on his vest and the sidearm holstered at his hip. "You know, for once I'd really love to be assigned a mission that wasn't next to some body of water." He offers an expression that roughly approximates a fish smiling. "It always seems like I'll have to swim, and it always goes poorly. Not the swimming, mind you. Just the reason for doing so." The landing coordinates are up ahead--it's an open meadow, with some wooden structures, very rudimentary houses, half-built, half-destroyed. There's a large hole in the center of the area. "That completely escaped my memory," Abe says as he looks out the window, touching his forehead lightly with one webbed hand. "L'anse aux Meadows. Of course. That would be more likely to hold Hydra--or perhaps Nazi--interest." 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Daisy peers out the window, stretching her harness to its limits. "What would Hydra want with an old viking settlement anyway? Place is mostly a tourist attraction most of the year. There aren't even real roads there." Again, she's not sure why she's here, unless Agent May is babysitting. The place doesn't even remotely stretch to her talents. Of course that could be the point as well. 

:'''{{#var:5|Melinda May (5)}} has posed:''' May brings the quinjet in for a landing outside of the L'anse aux Meadows -- no reason to tear up the property after all -- and shuts the engines down. "The briefing said there were strange noises and lights here over the past few nights, and this area should be closed for the winter. We're here to find out what's going on. And Skye, if there are computer systems to examine, that's why you're here." She leads the way down the ramp then starts off toward the settlement proper, and does not appear to be openly carrying any weaponry. Is that normal? 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' Not long after the trio exits the quinjet, there is a strange noise indeed--a low, throbbing rumble punctuated with a shifting of the ground like an earthquake. Moments later, there are soft lights that can be seen from the direction of the hole in the midst of the settlement, while pieces of sod and dirt fall down into its depths. The lights seem to illuminate some sort of device in the center of the hole, just barely visible for a brief time; similarly, a pattern in the earth--on closer examination, a set of spiraling stairs along the sides of the hole--can be seen leading into the shadows below. "Well," Abe says, clearing his throat, "at the very least, we can confirm the briefing's details. The cause, though, is not yet so clear..." 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' It's an easy escape from the plane's safety harness and disembarking. Daisy picking her way behind the other two agents. "Ancient viking settlement, and I'm here to check out the computer systems. Gotcha boss." She's not convinced there will be any given circumstances, but if it actually /is/ a hidden Hydra base, well.. There's that hole, though, and that most definitely shouldn't be here regardless of who is responsible for it. "It's never good news when you find a hole in the ground with a set of stairs leading into the murky depths. This is like some bad D&D game. I suppose I'm the rogue." Her tones are light, but do little to hide the faint notes of sarcasm beneath them. To her credit, she doesn't opine on what roles the others might play. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' Retrieving a flashlight from his belt, Abe turns it on and prepares to begin down the staircase. He pauses, though, when Skye cracks her joke. "Where /are/ my manners?" he asks, gesturing to the hole. "Ladies first." The agents make their way slowly down the hole. It takes some time--long enough that it seems to go on forever, and the afternoon sky far above darkens to an evening one. At the bottom of the hole, there's a strange-looking machine that seems both high-tech and very ancient. A handful of short, squat, hairy creatures climb over it, adjusting levers, turning wheels, and cursing at it. One of them spies the flashlight. "Now that's a curious torch," it says, its voice resembling the grinding sound of stones on one another. "We're catchin' up! We promise! It was just a short break!" 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Ladies first? That earned Abe an arch of brow from the agent in training. Of course, she was here under May's supervision, so if the lady said jump, Daisy jumped. Others might ask how high, but that wasn't quite her style. She figured she'd make a best guess and make up the difference later. Of course, that attitude did lead to hot water a lot of the time, but the woman was still working on trust issues. They were working hard on breaking that down. It really might be the last straw holding her back from full status. The creatures were interesting, but even more so was the thing they were crawling over and poking at. Then again, anything that might remotely fall under tech caught her interest. More if it could be called a computer. She wasn't one of the science geeks, after all. Just a computer nerd. But the machine ahead could be anything at this point. "Hey, is it just me, or is it weird we can understand them?" Her whisper meant to carry just between the trio. 

:'''{{#var:5|Melinda May (5)}} has posed:''' Reaching the the bottom of the hold first, May looks at the other two, then at the creatures and the contraption they're fussing with. She suddenly has an odd feeling of being smack in the middle of an H.G. Wells book. She gestures for Skye and Sapien to stay back and takes a step or two closer to the creatures. "You there." She indicates one at random. "Come here and explain." Rule number one to making others think you belong someplace: behave like you belong. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' "I've found it best to accept the seemingly strangest components of any situation as the most mundane," Abe replies to Skye. "It's possible they're not speaking English at all, and we're just able to understand them for some reason." The spokesman for the creatures lumbers toward the agents. "Don't beat us again! We'll even work through next season as a demonstration of good faith! Keep the crops well fed, we will!" He covers his head, ducking, and the others cry out similar pleas from atop the machine. After a moment, the spokesman pauses and stares up at May. "But what of Leif? Or Torvald? Are they so angered they send messengers?" 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Daisy is quite fine with staying back, and not just because May has told her to. Abe gets an absent nod, "True. That would suggest the place is rigged with more than what we're seeing ahead, then. Makes sense, if this is some underground complex of sorts. Though I bet this isn't part of that whole tourist attraction." She grins at her own joke, but only briefly. There actually is a lot to pay attention to here. Like those creatures. Or the fact that they're using decidedly human names - old ones, but decidedly human. And that they're reporting to someone else, someone who isn't all that nice. 

:'''{{#var:5|Melinda May (5)}} has posed:''' "Not angered," May says curtly to the spokescreature. "Busy elsewhere. I'm in charge for now. Tell me about this machine." She gestures for the spokescreature to return to the contraption ahead of her, then glances back at the other two gesturing for them to check out the rest of the cave or whatever this is while she keeps the creatures distracted. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' "We didn't mean to--we didn't--but the ale was so delicious that evening we sealed the bargain! How were we to know the chieftain's cup was enchanted to slumber those uninvited to drink from it?" The spokesman tears at his hair and beard. "We slept only a short time, we promise! And now we catch up on the work!" As proof, the other creatures frantically work the machine, causing the area to light up in brilliant reds and oranges. The earth rumbles. "See!" the spokesman cries. "Even now, we work to feed the crop-fields above from the heat of the earth below!" He points upward and then sees the night sky. "Oh..." Abe slowly walks around the machine, observing the activity. "So ... you were to help the settlers? In exchange for food and alcohol?" The spokesman nods. "Yes, yes! We tired of chewing on rocks. The food of man is much preferred to that of dwarf. And now that we have woken from our nap, we grow hungry--so we work! We ... we /do/ work, yes?" 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' "Dwarf?" Skye mouths to herself, making a face. "This really is like some bad D&D game." She fully expects there to be a door with a glowing dragon, complete with hoarde, behind it. More to the point, she expects it to be a series of consoles and servers, but going with metaphor, it fit. She circles about the room opposite direction to Abe, in order to cover more ground in shorter time. 

:'''{{#var:5|Melinda May (5)}} has posed:''' Leif. Ale. She's getting a sinking feeling that these dwarves have just in a few sentences put Rogers' 70-year nap to shame. "I need to discuss something with my colleagues. Don't start the machine until I tell you." She looks to Skye and Abe and tilts her head for them to follow her back to the hole where they entered. "I have a feeling these dwarves were asleep a lot longer than they realize. Something along the lines of a thousand years longer," she tells the other two quietly, her voice pitched to not carry. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' Quiet for a long moment as May speaks, Abe puts his hands on his hips. "I see," he finally says. "That would explain much--especially the fervor with which they're apparently so eager to get back 'on schedule,' so to speak." He cocks his head to one side. "So is this a resource that SHIELD can use? Or do we get them set up with Canadian citizenship?" 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' She's not quite reached midpoint of the room when May's gesture calling her back is given. Returning to the group, "So you're saying they're like the fairy tale. Went to sleep and woke up. And now they think we're here to punish them?" Not some hidden masters they'll have to deal with. "If they've actually got some underground system for irrigation and plant sustenance, it's probably useful. But it isn't my area of expertise." She'd have to see more to know better. 

:'''{{#var:5|Melinda May (5)}} has posed:''' After a moment of consideration, May says to Abe, "Set them up for Canadian citizenship. It's only right. And then we'll need someone to transition them to new bosses, per se, so their abilities and equipment are not exploited. Skye, get up to the quinjet and get a call in to the closest SHIELD outpost. Abe, I want to you collect and record as much intel as you can about that machine. Geothermal energy is a sorely under-utilized resource. I'm going to talk with our new friends some more." 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' "Very well." With a curt nod, Abe pivots on a heel and walks back toward the machine. He retrieves a small camera and a hand-held scanning tool, which he uses to simultaneously take pictures and collect a variety of readings. He seems to have some trouble finding moments to take pictures that aren't inadvertently (or maybe purposefully!) photo-bombed by the dwarfs. In response, Abe simply sighs softly and continues his efforts. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Any and all snarky comments are bit back by Daisy as she trundles back off to the quinjet to relay to nearest base what they'd found and await instructions. Not that she's pleased by the order by a long stretch, however, arguing wasn't going to get her anywhere, nor was snark. She was learning. Slowly but surely, she was learning. Message relayed, she stays back and awaits the return of the others. For an unexpected, 'boring' little mission to check out floating lights, it hadn't turned out half bad. Odd, but not half bad. Chalk one up in the plus column of her agent book. Nine more and she'd have earned herself a gold star.. or maybe a full badge. 
}}

2650/The Doom That Came to New Utrecht

2017-10-01T04:59:38Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/09/30 |Location=New Utrecht, Brooklyn |Synopsis=Several heroes respond to the possibility of a monster lurking in the shadows of New Utrecht d..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/09/30
|Location=New Utrecht, Brooklyn
|Synopsis=Several heroes respond to the possibility of a monster lurking in the shadows of New Utrecht during the Apokoliptian invasion.
|Cast of Characters=1430, 1140, 1305, 42
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' A week ago, New Utrecht was a thriving, diverse neighborhood. Its buildings hardly competed with those of Manhattan to touch the heavens, but its mismatched assortment of various eras' styles provided it with an overdose of character. Today, New Utrecht is mostly in ruins--its buildings are smoking, blown-out facades and skeletal frames in which its residents huddle for what little warmth and safety they can while Apokolips' forces attack the city. Here, on 58th street, a small neighborhood of row houses and duplexes sit quiet, their windows smashed and roofs compromised. It's mostly dark. Mostly. A few lights flicker here and there--matches and candles. Hushed voices hiss in response. "Away from the windows! It'll see you!" "I thought it was gone..." whispers a younger voice. "No!" the first responds. "It got Mrs. Gonzalez only an hour ago. You heard her scream." "Oh..." says the second voice. "I thought that was longer ago." Outside, a hunched-over figure lumbers in the shadows, slowly approaching the building where the light is unsuccessfully hidden. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Frank Castle (1140)}} has posed:'''     Frank Castle had heard stories of a monster roaming the streets here in New Utrecht. What once he might have dismissed as fantasy, these days he was willing to give some creadence too. He comes into the area on foot. He has a long black trench coat that falls almost to his ankles as he keeps his head down. He looks like any other man on the street, trying to avoid anyone's business but his own, although his eyes flick about trying to take the area in. 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' Brooklyn isn't her usual stomping grounds. Still, where there's trouble, she'll go. She knows these creatures are all over the place, after all. And at twenty going on ancient, The Hoodlum knows these things have a habit of going bad and escalating. So she's here among the rubble. Much as she hates it, she channels Marquez today. Ambush predator that he is, he's the one the provides her the skill she needs to go stalking burned out husks today. She has her hatchet in hand, sword stowed wherever it goes when she's not using it. In addition to her usual hoodie and domino mask, she's got a black bandanna wrapped around the lower half of her face and some sort of soot-blackened metal gorget around her neck. Marquez made the young immortal paranoid about the safety of her head. It's the light she approaches, drawn by it much the same as the creature. After all, it's what Marquez the Murderer would do. And isn't it his memories more than other that fill the spaces between the walls of her skull? 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' Diana Prince was moving between fights. She was in mid-flight up in the air a good fifty feet and flying from the southwest to the northeast toward Manhattan. She's covered from shoulder to toe in a volumous dark blue cloak that whips about in the wind whilst in-flight. Diana takes note of the destruction in this neighborhood below and a great wealth of sorrow fills her heart. She knows there's people here who need her help, but she has to think of the larger picture... and her comm-link to the League was requesting her presence in upper east Manhattan... Diana continued on her flight, not going as fast as she could because she was still looking for direct threats that she could end along her flight path. Things, she hoped, would not detour her for too long. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' The hunched-over figure moves into the darkest of shadows. A few moments later, the candle-lit room goes black and there are two screams. One is a high-pitched child's shriek. The other is deeper and older--and cut short. In the room, a figure that looks like nothing so much as a half-naked fish-man clasps the dead mother in its limbs, blood from her torn throat all over its own face, chest, and limbs. The child, meanwhile, huddles in the corner, trying not to breathe. On the streets, a small number of locals flee in panic, running with their eyes more over their shoulders than in front of themselves. The path of one such runner--a squat Chinese man--looks like it will take him on a direct collision course with Frank. 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' Well. That makes things a little more simple. Hoodlum purses her lips together and blows, whistling in Diana's direction, then pointing in the direction of the building. Maybe the woman will catch it and proceed apace? Regardless, the scream sends her scrambling across the rubble in the direction of the snuffed-out life, attempts at stealth forgotten. A sword swishes out from beneath her hoodie, even though it's far too long and wide to fit under the damned garment. It flickers with stray bits of light in the shadows,"So help me god, if something jumps out at me... Ugh. I just HAD to watch horror movies last night..." 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' The screams is what got Diana's attention, though the whistle certainly helped as well. The flying woman in blue suddenly came to a halt and she looked down to see civilians running... her advanced hearing gave her a rough outline on where the scream had come from. She had a calm look on her face as she scanned the area beneath her and then leaned forward and shot toward it, her black hair flipping wildly in the wind behind her head as she went. Moments later and Wonder Woman would touch down in front of the fleeing civilians... "I am here to help you." She told them. Diana's blue eyes caught sight of Clarine-with-sword running toward the direction of the scream as well... Wonder Woman stepped in this direction as well now, her blue robe falling from her body to reveal her armored form and her hands going behind her back to retreieve her own weapons, sword in her right and long javelin in her left. Diana moved in a course to intercept Clarine, picking up speed to catch her. "Hold." She told the girl. "We must be exercise caution." 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' Amid strings of obscenities and incoherent babbling, a single idea is communicated: "MONSTER!" sob the fleeing residents in a variety of languages. Some fall to their knees in front of Diana, clutching at her boots. Others, some sense of faith or safety restored by the heroes' presence, pick up their pace toward the nearest subway station. In the ruined home, the fish-man lowers the dead mother to the floor and returns to the shadows. The girl in the corner sobs hysterically, even as she tries to cover her mouth and muffle the sounds of her grief. Not long after, there's movement in the darkness of the alleys--quiet, stalking movement. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Frank Castle (1140)}} has posed:'''     Frank doesn't start running at the sound of the screaming, but he certainly is focusing his attention. His coat flaps open. The skull on his chest is seen for a moment before he pulling an automatic rifel out from underneath. He moves quickly, watching the fleeing civilians flood towards Diana. His eyes turn and catch the movement in the alley and begins to move that way with the rifle pressed to his arm and muzzle down. 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' "Caution is for frailer beings than you or I." Still, the woman grips her hatchet and sword more tightly, and looks over to the woman. Her lips compress into a thin line. She lets her voice drop into a lower register, hoping that's enough for her to avoid being recognized by the lady. They only met once, right? She shifts her feet, though, pointing her sword in the direction the scream issued from,"Whatever it is might be getting away! It's going to hurt more people!" Her voice is desperate in tone. But it's Wonder Woman telling her to hold. And when Wonder Woman tells you to stay put, you at least give her a listen! 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' Diana glanced in the direction of Frank Castle, she saw his gun and the picture of the skull on his chest... but she wasn't acquainted with the legend of the Punisher, so he looked more like a pissed off mercenary to her... but one issue at a time. Diana swept herself up to the home and to where Clarine was. "Foolhearted rushing, leads to more mistakes than you might think. No matter your frailty level." She replied to her, and she did recognize the young woman, but this wasn't a time to mention it. "There is a frightened person inside." Diana rushed at the building, choosing to help whomever was inside and chase the beast after. She'd go through the broken home and to the sound of the frightened whimpers. "Come with me." She encouraged the girl. "There are others outside who you can flee with." Diana would put her javelin away and reach a hand out to help the girl. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' From the shadowy alley, the fish-man emerges, its green-blue skin coated with blood splatter. Slowly, it creeps toward the Punisher and the heroes nearby. From a holster at its hip, the creature slowly draws a pistol. It raises the gun and cocks it, the barrel seemingly pointed directly toward the skull-marked vigilante. On the opposite side of the street, a thick cloud of black smoke rises from a smoldering crater that had been home to an extended Filipino family. A shape moves through the cloud as though it were stepping through a curtain, and the shape--a parademon of Apokolips--raises its claws, bares its teeth, and lopes silently toward Diana and Hoodlum. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Frank Castle (1140)}} has posed:'''     Frank's attention is on the fish-man so he does not see the Parademon appearing behind him across the street. As he sees blue skin and the blood, he does immediately think that this is one of those creatures he had been hearing about. He has not yet seen a Parademon himself so he doesn't know that isn't what he is looking at.     The rifle comes up especially as the creature draws the pistol. "I'm going to give you to the count of two to drop that weapon or I'm going to turn you into fish tacos right where you stand." To bring the point home, his hand goes to the action and pulls it back with a click pulling a shot into the chamber. 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' Hoodlum nods to Diana, fingers clenching on the sword again. Still, she can't imagine that her size combined with big sword and hatchet is very inspiring to the little girl inside. Still, she followed Diana, and let her take care of such things. The woman has a lot of experience heroing, after all. Marquez only ever played the lone wolf. Good at it, but not exactly a heroic personage. Her heart thuds in her chest. She knows parademons are nearby. They're big. Not the Kurgan, maybe, but they're still BIG. And no matter how strong you are, leverage still matters. And truth be told, most of these things are stronger than her. Bigger truth? Last time she fought these, she had to grow her spleen and one of her kidneys back. They've exsanguinated her a sum total of twice. And the first time she fought them? They got lucky. She cocks her hatchet back behind her head, ready to throw, unable to hear the silent run of the parademon. 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' Diana helped the girl reach the front of the broken house and was motioning her toward the civilians that were still out there where she'd left her cloak on the ground, a few of them waiting/wanting to be there for Wonder Woman (maybe the felt safer the closer she was?). Diana could hear Frank's voice, it was muffled and quiet, but she heard what he was saying to whatever was in the alleyway with him. but that was the least of her concerns when the Parademon appeared and LUNGED. "Help her!" Diana shouted at Clarine about the child from the home they'd just entered. Wonder Woman would turn toward the lunging Parademon and counter-lunge right back at it with her sword angling out in a potentially devestating thrust! 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' The fish-man frowns. "No," he says in a cold and calm voice. "You're not." With his free hand, he gestures toward his waist. "Check the badge." There's no badge there, and the fish-man clearly notices that. "Shit," he mutters, and begins feeling his belt for the absent proof of authority. "Don't do anything stupid!" the creature calls to the Punisher, its attention diverted. Meanwhile, near the other heroes, the parademon glides through the air in its lunge--not targeting Diana but the /child/. When the Amazon's sword slices at it, one of the creature's wings falls off, and its glide becomes a fall. As it hits the floor, it rolls and then leaps up at the nearest figure ... which, at this moment, happens to be Hoodlum. The parademon attacks face-first, its jaw snapping a set of razor-sharp fangs at Clarine's shoulder. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Frank Castle (1140)}} has posed:'''     "Uh huh," Castle says not really buying the story coming from that voice. He looks as if he is about to say something else when he hears Diana shout. His head snaps back towards the Creature from the Black Lagoon and fires off a three shot burst before he is running back up the alley towards the street and this enormous attacking creature. He is some distance away just yet so he is running towards them rather than trying to shoot just yet. 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' And of course, Clarine is interposed between the child and the creature as Diana calls out. She's bent over, pressing her hatchet into the child's hand, and offering a smile visible on her eyes through the holes in her mask,"Take this hun. It's a magic axe. Anyone tries to hurt you, you just throw it and the run, really fast. Find a police offer. Someone with a badge, oka-" Instincts gained from centuries, maybe millenia of combined experience scream at her. She turns just in time for the Parademon in its second leap to fasten its fangs deeply into her shoulder and the side of her neck. She's a big girl, but no matter how old one rates her, that HURTS. Muscles, artery, more... They're pierced, torn, and without her hatchet, she can't just wail on the beast fastened to her. So she fastens her hand about the thing's neck, trying to hold it still until she can slide her sword between its teeth to keep it from closing its mouth. Then, accepting the cuts to her hand, releases her hold on its neck, and begins to push the blade towards the back of its mouth, trying to force its jaws open. Blood is already pouring down her torso. So. Not more sturdy than a normal human after all? "AAAAAAGH. Stab it! Don't worry about hitting me. Just stab it until it stops moving!" And then to the little girl, she calls out,"RUN!" Oh. Huh. Was that her subclavian? Boy howdy, she sure feels woozy. 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' Diana swept past the Parademon, having only severed a wing when she'd hoped to run her sword right through its neck, it had evaded just in time... at least enough to save its life, but not said wing. Diana landed and spun around to a halt, seeing the parademon recovering and going for Clarine. An inhale was taken and Diana started to run, her free hand going for her hip where she pulled her coiled-up lasso free from her side. A moment later and the golden rope was unfurled and it began to glow a bright shining light around the otherwise darkened areas. Diana was too late to keep Clarine from being injured, but she lashed the lasso out to grab the now-stabbed-demon and pull it backward away from both Clarine and the girl with the magic hatchet! She'd yank on the rope, to drag the beast back to where she was! 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' The parademon gags and chokes as Hoodlum gets her blade into its mouth, and even as it tries to shake itself free of the troublesome sword, a golden lasso suddenly encircles its neck, and the creature flies--involuntarily--backward toward Diana. The alien claws at the rope about its neck while it scrambles about, trying futilely to tug itself and the rope free of Wonder Woman's grasp. When it realizes it is stuck, it pulls a capsule from its belt. The capsule hums and extends in its claws, unfolding from seemingly nowhere until it appears as an otherworldly mix of saw and axe--which the creature begins swinging, wildly, in an effort to hack at its bonds. The lasso merely sparks in response to the weapon's impacts. All the while, the little girl sobs and howls, her eyes shut tight as she clings to whatever illusion of safety she can. In the alley, the fish-man's eyes widen as Frank Castle begins to respond to him. "No, wai--" he begins, and then a quick burst of rounds strikes him in the side and shoulder, and he takes a grazing round to the head. The figure drops to the ground like a sack of wet laundry while Castle heads toward the fight. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Frank Castle (1140)}} has posed:'''     Frank runs towards the fight and then slides down into a kneeling position as he gets closer. He brings the automatic rifle up and takes steady aim. The sharp barking sound of weapons fire is lost in the screaming and sobbing and gnashing of teeth, but hopefully the bullets are not as he aims for the weapon hand of the parademon. 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' Yep. That was definitely gunfire alright. Still, with her quickly working on bleeding out. She has to make a decision quickly. Her sword comes up, as if she were about to charge in and start stabbing... But wounded as she is, she realizes there's someone there with more good limbs. So as Frank goes running in, she swears under her breath. She makes her sword disappear to the same place she'd pulled it from originally, and turns to sweep up the child in her good arm, slipping around it. "Hold on tight. Remember what I told you about the magic, okay? You see something, you shout it okay." She calls back to Diana,"You've got this, right? I'm getting her clear. If I die, bury me on holy ground." She runs free of the building, cradling the child's face to her chest... And runs over a downed fish-man. This seems like alien chicanery, but then... She remembers reading about the adventures of 'Squid-boy' when she was a kid. So she bends, and works to try to leverage fish man over her bad shoulder. Kid and fish-man? Her body threatens to buckle from the pain and the light-headedness. Tears find her eyes,"Hey kid. You hangin' in there. This guy is... uh... Flounder-Man." Here's to hoping he's not a weird-looking Parademon. 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' Diana watched the creature claw at her rope and then pull a small device out to try to sever it, but it did nothing to the lasso of truth... She stalked forward and coiled up more and more of the rope until she was about two feet away from the parademon when Frank's gun shots landed across it! Diana looked up suddenly, right into Frank Castle's eyes and she stared at him in a calm, but judgemental, kind of way. Diana's eyes went then to Clarine to watch her flee with the rescued girl, she releaed a light sigh and her sword hand came up to aim toward the Parademon's face, should Frank's shots not have killed the creature, then her sword would soon do the job. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' The Punisher's gunfire lights up the creature's chest and side, and some neon fluid that must approximate alien blood begins pouring out from the site of each round that meets its mark. In response, the parademon roars and pulls all the harder at the lasso constraining it, but as its lifeblood seeps out, the creature's resistance quickly grows weaker and weaker until it slumps to the ground, held up only by the tautness of the rope itself. Meanwhile, barely hanging over Hoodlum's shoulder, the fish-man coughs up a mist of his own blood and wheezes. "Get us ... two blocks north. There's ... safehouse and ... aid," he chokes out, and fumbles for a small device of some kind in a pouch at his waist. It begins beeping in a soft, rhythmic pattern. "Letting them ... know," he manages to say before his consciousness drifts off again. In Clarine's other arm, the little girl's sobbing is quieted, and she clutches her rescuer tightly. About them, various Brooklynites peek out from cover, makeshift weapons in their white-knuckled hands and various goods and precious belongings hoarded about them. In the distance, echos of the din from the full-scale battle carry on the wind. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Frank Castle (1140)}} has posed:'''     Frank slings the rifle over his shoulder as he approaches the dying parademon. He pulls out a hand gun from a holster on his hip beneath the jacket and places the muzzle against the creatures head. "This the thing that has been terrorizing this neighborhood?" He is asking Diana but his eyes never leave the demon. 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' "A gun battle is no place for a young lady. Hey, what's your name hun? When this is over and I take a NIIIICE long nap, you and I can get ice cream? I could eat like ten pints of mint chocolate chip right now." The young/ancient immortal keeps moving, and for a while, she merely follows 'Flounder-Man's directions, keeping her mind on moving one foot in front of the other. She's barely able to keep up a fast walk, let alone run or jog, by the time she begins to draw near the place Abe indicates. Even her body has limits, and her head is spinning,"Hey buddy. Which building? I don't... Uh... I don't think I'm doing so well." She stumbles into a trash can... keeps going. "They'll be fine. They've got Wonder Woman." 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' Diana would unwind her lasso and slide it through her hands until it was coiled up. She watched the life drain out of the Parademon slowly and watched the hardened veteran approach it and her, draw a weapon and crouch beside it. Diana Prince had no love for the Parademons, she felt no need to preserve their lives. They were soul-less warriors for a wretched master. "Yes." She told Frank. "It was." She added before she hooked her lasso back onto her belt and started to walk back to her point of origin in this small encounter, where she'd left her cloak. Diana's eyes looked down the road to see Clarine reaching the safety of the neighborhood's union. She'd move to gather up her garment and prepare to return to the distant fighting. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' "M-my name," the little girl whispers, her eyes wide, her face wet with tears, "my name--my name is Tracy." She manages to swallow a lump in her throat. "Is my m-m-mommy okay?" She glances frequently, if furtively, at the wounded man accompanying her and Hoodlum. For his part, the fish-man fades in and out of awareness. As they near the two-block point, the rhythmic beeping of his device begins to sync up with the flickering neon sign of a pawn shop. "Therrrrre," he says with a woozy slur in his voice. As they draw closer, a man with a handlebar mustache steps out of the pawn shop door. "Got somethin' a bit broken to bring in for repair and resale, eh?" he says with a smirk before approaching Clarine. "Lemme help." Back at the site of the parademon's demise, the neighborhood is quiet--the silence, for the moment, not in response to the hidden local terror that has been eradicated but, perhaps, for a moment of respite amid the full-blown armageddon overwhelming the larger city. 

:'''{{#var:1140|Frank Castle (1140)}} has posed:'''     "Good riddence," Castle says as he unloads a couple rounds into the pardemon's head. He holsters the weapon as he turns and looks in the direction that Diana is looking. He doesn't have her eyesight so he shakes his head and moves toward the spot where the parademon has appeared. He crouches down to his knees, running his finger through the smoke residue. 

:'''{{#var:1305|Clarine (1305)}} has posed:''' The Hoodlum doesn't QUITE answer the little girl,"Tracy. People call me Hoodlum. Everything's gonna be okay." This as she draws close to the pawn shop. Abe is relinquished to the repair man. Then the little girl is set on her feet, hair ruffled with one hand. Then the woman falls forward on her face, leaking blood sluggishly. Because really, who wants to be awake for bleeding out, anyway. 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' Wonder Woman would place her cloak back over her shoulders and she'd let it cover herself over again with the blue fabric that was stained with dirt and grime from her fights. Her hair was a mess and her face was smudged much like the rest of her, she'd been through a lot in these recent battles. She walked back toward Frank and she offered him a light nod of her head. "Please, see to it that the rest of this neighborhood is safe from any more of these things." She told him in her thick Greek ccent. "But, keep watch on yourself as well. They come in hordes, so do not let yourself get overwhelmed. HIde, if you must." Diana glanced down the street toward where Hoodlum had gone with the girl and the Fishman. "Protect as many as you can." Diana asked the stranger with the aggressively painted skull on his chest. She may not normally trust a man who looked like Frank Castle does right now, but they were under dire circumstances. A moment later and Diana would launch herself into the sky, curving northward. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' As Clarine falls to the ground, the pawn shop man sighs, the fish-man already hanging limp in his hands. He drags his cargo to the door, leans his head inside, and whistles. A few moments later, another individual emerges and kneels beside Clarine. He offers a smile to Tracy. "Come on with us, honey. We'll see about your mother." The man shows off a badge to her. "I work for the government. My name's Doyle. Let's help your friends and get you safe." The smoky residue in front of Frank Castle looks to the average eye like a pile of grime. To the trained eye, it reveals tracks around the area--tracks that resemble those of tunnel rats, of guerrillas, of saboteurs. The parademon--perhaps all the parademons--are learning to exploit the urban terrain if given the opportunity, if given no resistance. If given no punishment. 
}}

2636/Return to Sender

2017-09-29T16:05:14Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/09/29 |Location=BPRD Offices, the Triskelion |Synopsis=Abe Sapien and Liz Sherman deal with an unexpected delivery of an even more surprising..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/09/29
|Location=BPRD Offices, the Triskelion
|Synopsis=Abe Sapien and Liz Sherman deal with an unexpected delivery of an even more surprising "gift."
|Cast of Characters=1430, 1412
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' A forklift beeps as it moves slowly through a corridor from the BPRD's Triskelion hangar towards its more 'homey' section of the building. A pair of large crates sit on the forks, sealed with tape in a curious pattern on which even more curious characters have been written in magic marker. Abe Sapien waits at the entrance to the BPRD offices, holding up a webbed hand. "You know that's not going to make it down the stairs," he says in a flat tone. "Yeah, no kiddin'," the forklift driver says, putting the vehicle into park. "I just bring it here. The rest is up to you ... all," he continues, mouth contorting slightly as if he'd meant to say something else. "And what shipment is this, precisely?" Abe asks, looking at the crates while they're gently lowered to the floor. "Look, pal, that's above my pay grade. They tell me to move stuff, I move it," the forklift driver replies before turning his vehicle around and driving back toward less creepy areas of SHIELD headquarters. Abe squats in front of the crates and sighs, scrutinizing the writing. One or two other BPRD agents walk by, shrugging at the scene before they head to their own duties. 

:'''{{#var:1412|Liz Sherman (1412)}} has posed:''' Stepping around the forklift as it beeps merrily along the SHIELD corridors, Liz Sherman pauses a moment, flattening herself along the wall to make space for the thing as her eyes watch the vehicle drift down the corridor. Her lips purse. Bringing up her hand after the passage, she brushes her fingers through her hair, pushing it behind her shoulder. All in all, she looked better today, mostly - like she had gotten some sleep and managed to push a brush through her hair. Tucking her hand back down into her pockets, she steps forward, her course changing correction as she spies Abe, lifting her chin to her fellow 'special agent'. "Christmas comes early to BPRD. Think the guys upstairs..." meaning SHIELD. "... found something weird?" Liz herself looks down at the writing on one of the crates, her hand lifting up to brush along the outside edge of one of the same. She smelled of nicotine and ash. But she always smelled of ash, at least. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' Raising his brow enough to be noticeable, Abe offers a hand palm-up toward the crate and then toward Liz. "Crates of unknown origin, covered in strange writing and packaging?" He shakes his head. "At this point, it would be weird if it had explicitly traceable provenance and a receipt from Target attached to it." Abe slowly stands. "Seen O'Donnell around today? I admit these marks are unfamiliar to me. But maybe he would know." To Liz's eyes, however, the markings are clearly legible: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY ELIZABETH. 

:'''{{#var:1412|Liz Sherman (1412)}} has posed:''' "Naw, Abe. I haven't seen O'Donnell around," says Liz, her gloved thumb flicking over the edge of some of the writing. "Last I saw him was yesterday. After he brought that faery in for questioning," she says, pursing her lips tighter. Everyone in BPRD probably liked a good enough mystery, and mysterious crates was a mystery. But mysteries tended to have edges, at least here in the BPRD. "How you been, anyway, I..." Liz had been banking on the idea that if Abe couldn't read it, she sure as hell didn't have a hope of reading it. However, once she actually /looked/ at the writing with more than a glance... Liz's blood cools. "We gotta..." she says, her normally laconic voice lifting up with a brief bout of anxiety. "...we gotta get these in containtment. /Now/." Lifting up her hand, she glances over her shoulder towards a passing BPRD agent. "Get Red, if he's not on one of his walks! And the Professor!" 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' "Liz?" Abe asks, his face scrunching up in puzzlement. "What's the matter?" His voice is calm and quiet, though one hand begins drifting slowly toward his sidearm. He pivots on one heel and takes a step back from the crate. He extends his free hand in the direction of the crate, and looks back and forth between it and Liz. The passerby agent nods quickly to Liz and begins jogging in the most likely direction of Hellboy & Bruttenholm. "Yes, ma'am," she says. Just then, one of the crates bursts into flames, its wooden sides popping and snapping with the sudden heat. "Liz?" Abe asks again, seemingly oblivious. "Is there something wrong?" Two coal-black eyes appear in the flames above the crate. 

:'''{{#var:1412|Liz Sherman (1412)}} has posed:''' And this is a lot of why Liz liked not sleeping, living in that state of perpetual tiredness with the flame licking at the inside of her mind and her heart. At least you can blame the weird shit you see on the dreams then. Jaw clenching tight, Liz takes two steps back from the crate as it bursts into flame, her hand reaching and drawing her sidearm in a fluid motion. Her bullets were cold iron today - they had been having trouble with fae hooligans as of late, but luckily, nothing had to be shot. But the modified Glock - the BPRD Special, some of the men called the 'standard' sidearm - was still leveled upon the eyes within the flame. Reflexively, something inside of Liz calls out to the flame - a sick joy at seeing a sister or brother in inferno. Liz didn't feel that. She just felt her stomach heave. "You don't see that?! Get away from the crates, Abe, there's something... in them! Fire... and... eyes?" 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' From around a corner, the dispatched BPRD agent returns, huffing. "I've tried to raise them on comms, ma'am!" she says between breaths. "They're still working on it." Glancing over his shoulder at the agent, Abe nods. "Thank you, Agent Sullivan. I think that Liz--Agent Sherman--may have this under control." As Liz sounds her caution, though, he moves back several feet from the crates. Sullivan continues to catch her breath. The crate's flames continue to grow, licking and snapping. Then, there's a quick jump--as though a gust of wind blew through the corridor--and the flames catch hold of Sullivan's jacket. Then her hair. Then her skin. She stands there, unaware of her skin charring and cracking off, her hair disintegrating. The smell permeating the hall. "Liz?" Abe asks from his newer position. "What fire? What eyes?" He draws his pistol and points it at the crate. "Is this a 'containment with prejudice' situation?" 

:'''{{#var:1412|Liz Sherman (1412)}} has posed:''' People said Liz controlled fire. But there was nothing further from the truth. Liz lived /with/ the fire - and yes, she knew how to whisper to it - to make the crackle and pop of flame and heat dance to her way. But many times, like a lot of things in life... it had a life of its own. And the more she cracked the door open to whisper to it, the more opportunity it had to just... kick the door open and bolt past her into the world. If that made any sense at all. Seeing the flame jump like that, Liz jerks back and reflexively fires - the cold iron bullet aimed to tick into the body of the crate. There was a dichotomy within Liz now - that elation and joy at seeing the flame, and the cold fear of her mind that this whole thing would end up with her friends burning. Again. Every time. "Just... get out of here. Get out of..." Sullivan didn't scream, didn't seem to even care, so it wasn't until Liz tears her eyes from the crates to look towards Abe that her eyes were drawn to... "SULLIVAN NO!" Fingers loosening, the BPRD Special slips from between them, spiralling in the air as the weapon falls to the ground. And Liz's eyes turn orange. She had opened the door, and was whispering to the fire that lived in the home beyond. Trying to tell the flame to get /off/ of Sullivan. Even if, she had more time to think about this whole thing - it was likely an illusion. Perhaps she couldn't speak to it at all. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' "ELIZABETH," a voice hisses in the back of Liz's mind. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY ... TO YOU ..." Sullivan looks around with one good eye, confused, as Sherman's gun falls to the ground. "What's wrong?" she asks with a swollen, seared tongue, ducking instinctively. "Are we under attack?!" Her jaw, burned bare to the bone, falls to the ground with a clatter. Abe narrows his eyes and inhales deeply. "I think ... I think Liz is having a very different experience than we are." He cocks his head slightly to one side. "Do you know something we don't, Liz? Elizabeth?" he asks again, louder. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY ... DEAR ... ELIZABETH ...," the hissing voice continues. "MAKE A WISH, DEAR ..." 

:'''{{#var:1412|Liz Sherman (1412)}} has posed:''' Sullivan didn't seem to realize that he was burning to death. In spite of these things, Liz didn't stop trying - didn't want to stop trying to conjole the flame away from him, illusionary or not. To talk to this living thing in these crates and tell it to get away from everyone. Perhaps, in many ways, she /couldn't/ stop trying to stop something like this. "No. No no no." Now flames were starting to spark on Liz's own body - but these were real flames, dancing over her upper arm on the left, out of her belly, her hair. Little traces of the blue-hot fires that usually came before the inferno. This may or may not be worrying to those around her. "I wish..." she says, her tone of voice strained - the tears that bud at the edges of her eyes turning to steam before they could even touch her cheek. "...that you would just leave!" she calls to the hall at large. Which may be misinterpreted. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' "PARTY POOPER," the voice hisses. Then, there's another popping and crackling, and the crates catch on fire (again, for one of them). "What the--?!" Sullivan says, leaping back and stumbling away from the crates. "Liz!" Abe calls in a concerned tone, stepping toward his friend. "You are alright. Don't lose control." He slips his gun back into its holster and nears Liz with hands raised. The crates' flames remain localized, and in less than a minute the two boxes are nothing more than small piles of ash. Sullivan's appearance returns to normal like she'd never been burning to death at all. "MAYBE NEXT YEAR ..." the voice hisses, and then is silent. From around the corner, a pair of BPRD agents in hazmat suits and hauling large boxes of equipment come jogging up. "What seems to be the problem?" one asks. Abe blinks and looks to Liz. "I wish I could tell you," he says quietly. 

:'''{{#var:1412|Liz Sherman (1412)}} has posed:''' Liz clenches her jaw tighter, her wide open eyes filled with that flickering orange light still. It was... leaving. "Who are you?" she whispers. But was that with her voice, or to the flame behind the door? A long breath in, and out - it seemed like Abe was an eternity away, calling across a void that crackled with fire. But he was drawing closer, in her mind. A breath in, a breath out, and Liz was whispering something under her breath. He would no doubt recognize it as a prayer to one of the Saints. And a handful of seconds more, and Liz closes the 'door', so to speak, and takes a step back. But perhaps, if she quirked her ear just so, she could hear it whispering back to her. Eyes return to focus, her gaze turning back to brown, as she focuses again on Abe. Liz sticks out her lower jaw a bit in thought, her eyes turning from him, to Sullivan. A snort comes from her. "I need a smoke, Abe. Want to come with?" The agents here would probably want more of an explanation. That would have to come later, maybe. 

:'''{{#var:1430|Abe Sapien (1430)}} has posed:''' Moving his head back and forth as if weighing options, Abe nods after a long moment. "Sure. Of course." He points at the crates and looks at the containment crew. "I will come by shortly to finish up the paperwork for these items. But we'll also need the SHIELD agent who brought them by earlier. It was ... ah ..." Abe blinks. "I cannot rightly remember who it was." "We'll check the requisition sign-out and vehicle logs, sir," one of the hazmat-suit-wearing agents says. "Thank you," Abe replies. "Now then. Liz, let's get some fresh air. Or at least a mix of fresh air and nicotine." 

:'''{{#var:1412|Liz Sherman (1412)}} has posed:''' "Great," says Liz. Yeah, she was saddling Abe with the paperwork, but... Liz didn't want to think about this whole experience any more than she had to. And the BPRD Special Agents were notoriously bad with filing paperwork. Although Liz still did. When she... had to. "Careful with that stuff," she says to one of the Hazmat agents. "It's some... magic crap. Or a magic pile of ashes. Whatever." Liz brings up a hand, searching around for her pack of smokes. "We need to find out where that stuff came from. It was a... birthday gift. Hopefully, it's just someone's idea of a joke." "Although that's a hell of a joke..." she murmurs, casting one eye back towards the ashes, her eyes narrowing. 

:'''{{#var:1412|Liz Sherman (1412)}} has posed:''' And no doubt the two agents head down the hall, towards one of the access hatches to the surface. And the ever-shrinking space where smokers were allowed to do their thing. 
}}

Abe Sapien

2017-09-29T04:12:40Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{CharacterNew |NameOnMUSH=Abe Sapien |Color=#333 |TextColor=#c1c1c1 |Char_id=1430 |Img=https://i.imgur.com/FAirnK5.png |FullName=Abraham Sapien |Gender=Male |Species=Icthyo S..."

{{CharacterNew
|NameOnMUSH=Abe Sapien
|Color=#333
|TextColor=#c1c1c1
|Char_id=1430
|Img=https://i.imgur.com/FAirnK5.png
|FullName=Abraham Sapien
|Gender=Male
|Species=Icthyo Sapien
|Theme=Dark Horse
|Chartype=FC
|Active=Active
|Occupation=BPRD Agent
|Groups=[[SHIELD]]
|Quote="Remind me why I do this again."
|AAge=230
|DOB=15 March 1795
|Height=185 cm
|Weight=82 kg
|Hair=None
|Eyes=Yellow
|Actor=Doug Jones
|Song=Metallica, "The Thing That Should Not Be"
|Profile=To the world at large, Abe Sapien, the "fish man," is a myth that does not truly exist, the stuff of tabloid covers or children's campfire horror stories. To those in the know, Abe is an agent of B.P.R.D., an investigator of strange and occult situations outside the area of expertise of most law enforcement agencies.
|Abilities=====Amphibious====
Amphibious=Abe is capable of breathing indefinitely underwater as well as, for extended but not indefinite periods, out of it. His sensory organs provide him with the ability to navigate in unlit or cloudy areas, and his body is capable of withstanding greater pressures than humans can. However, Abe is not entirely immune to significant changes in pressure, and he would experience discomfort, pain, and disorientation if forced to traverse depths below roughly a thousand feet.

====Psychic Sensitivity====
Abe possesses some minor psychic sensitivity, making him capable of experiencing sensations of strange phenomena. These might be odors, emotional resonances, or even observations of spectral activity. Sometimes, the phenomena are understandable or recognizable; at other times, they may confuse far more than they illuminate. A related consequence of this sensitivity is that Abe can, potentially, become overwhelmed by the sensations he experiences--whether drawn in by them (as part of an instinctive effort to understand them more clearly and fully) or unable to navigate and discern them from the sensations of reality.
|Skills=====Investigation====
Abe is an expert investigator, having excelled at applying his long-time love of learning and exploration to his work. Thanks to his psychic sensitivity and his difference in physiology from most, Abe is well-attuned to anomalies in the environment and details that might otherwise be overlooked. The nature of his work also allows him to draw connections and develop theories that might seem absurd in a more conventional setting--and, because of his training, Abe is frequently correct in his hypotheses.

====Marksmanship====
Abe is a skilled marksman, having received extensive training and practice with all NATO firearms as part of his work with BPRD. He tends most frequently to use pistols, but he is comfortable using any firearm that a situation may call for.

====Occult Knowledge====
Since being recovered by BPRD, Abe has spent years educating himself--not only in regards to mundane subjects but also (and perhaps most especially) to occult and arcane lore. He is a well-read scholar on the strange and weird, with his education augmented further by his collaboration with Prof. Bruttenholm, Hellboy, and other top minds among the BPRD.
|Resources=====BPRD====
As a field agent for the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense, Abe has access to a range of military- and law enforcement-grade resources. This includes support personnel, travel, vehicles, firearms, and a range of specialized equipment; the specific resources he may be able to expect or otherwise rely on differ as appropriate for each particular mission. In addition, Abe lives on-site at BPRD headquarters; his unique appearance and physiology makes it difficult for him to live peacefully among humans, and so the BPRD provide room and board for him. Most importantly, though, are Abe's closest friends and allies--Hellboy, Liz Sherman, and the other most dedicated BPRD agents--who provide him with something that approaches a sense of family and belonging. Just as Abe feels like he can rely confidently on these individuals, so to does he know he must be there for them.
|Weaknesses=====Cults====
While any number of apocalyptic, eldritch, or otherwise "weird" cults are currently operating, there are several of which that are either actively pursuing Abe or see him as a key to their end goal (from bringing forth ancient sea gods to heralding new ages of mankind). Whatever the specifics may be, Abe knows that he will never be just another person, or just another agent; he is enmeshed in the often-depraved activities that the BPRD investigates.

====Water====
While Abe can survive for days without needing to submerge himself in water, he cannot live indefinitely on land. Accordingly, he tends to seek out missions that involve nearby bodies of water--not only in case he needs to investigate them, but also so that he can rely on access to them for survival if need be.
}}

User:Manowar

2017-09-29T04:05:47Z

Manowar: Created page with "I like to RP! My scenes tend to be over-the-top in some, if not all, regards. I chalk it up to a love of Silver Age absurdity and four-color fun. That said, I also try to emul..."

I like to RP! My scenes tend to be over-the-top in some, if not all, regards. I chalk it up to a love of Silver Age absurdity and four-color fun. That said, I also try to emulate the tone and aesthetic of those characters for whom such an approach might be wildly inappropriate.

Characters I've played (some with more success & longer tenures than others—finding that right groove can be difficult!):
* [[Jack-in-the-Box]]
* [[X-O Manowar]]
* [[Batman]]
* [[Jack Burton]]
* [[Yondu Udonta]]
* [[Nick Fury]]
* [[Green Arrow]]
* [[Ted Kord]]
* [[Superman]]
* [[Abe Sapien]]

2533/A Day in the Life

2017-09-24T01:29:56Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/09/21 |Location=Midvale, New Troy |Synopsis=Clark Kent accompanies Molly Millions for a ride-along as part of a story he's working on...."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/09/21
|Location=[[Midvale]], [[New Troy]]
|Synopsis=Clark Kent accompanies Molly Millions for a ride-along as part of a story he's working on. As they navigate war-torn Metropolis, parademons attack! Molly deals with the invader while Clark ducks for cover.
|Cast of Characters=15, 1045
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' "I'm so grateful you were willing to meet with me for my story, Miss ... ah ... Molly?" Clark Kent asks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I hope you don't mind me tagging along for a bit during your day." He sits, buckled-up, in the passenger seat of Molly's car--or, at least, what Molly had claimed was her car--as the two weave through debris-filled streets. Parademons flit about in the skies, firing off blasts at various targets. Clark jots a few notes down in shorthand on a pad of paper held in one hand. "The Planet's always looking for better branding these days. I was thinking of something like 'These 7 Citizens Helped Stop the Alien Invasion; What #4 Did Will SHOCK You!'" He clears his throat. "What do you think?" 

:'''{{#var:1045|Molly (1045)}} has posed:''' A job's a job. Though if she'd fully comprehended that she was taking a reporter for a ride-along she might have asked for more money... or at least managed to avoid the 'haha you're kidding, right?' laughter that had accompanied the introduction. But in her world, you sign a contract, you stick it through to the end. The sedan... well, maybe it's invasion damage, maybe not. Black and grey and looks like it's taken a few knocks in it's time. It's not glamorous, it's got no hidden functions, but it also means she's less concerned about driving it down roads full of debris and parademons. Even if her reflexes are good enough and familiar enough with the vehicle to avoid the worst of it. "Just Molly." she grunts,"I think that'd be a gross misrepresentation of the situation."is her blunt opinion,"There's a lot of people here, costumed sorts, doing their... thing, but there's plenty of perfectly normal people out there too. Was there a particular place you wanted to see? Downtown Metrpolis is mostly crater. The Hall's still standing, if you want to go with the whole... resilience of humanity angle... but I would say calling it stopped might be a bit premature. Clark, wasn't it?" 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' Shaking his head, Clark offers a polite smile. "No, ma'am. But, ah, it /is/ Clark, yes. I'm just here to soak in as much of the experience as I can--so I can help our readers understand what it's like to work on the front lines here. As best as many different kinds of people, and the roles they play, can." He looks at his note pad. "What have you found to be most helpful in keeping yourself and others safe? Or fighting these invaders with available tools?" There's a large obstruction a block or so up ahead. Clark leans his head out the window for a better view. As the car passes through some dust, he sneezes. Completely coincidentally, the obstruction up ahead collapses, providing a driveable path. 

:'''{{#var:1045|Molly (1045)}} has posed:''' "Just, Molly." Molly repeats tersely,"Not ma'am, or Miss, thank you." at least she remembered to tag thank you on there. A long, false nail is tapped on the steering well as she considers his words with a purse of her lips,"This isn't the front lines." she's got half an eye for the parademons, distracted momentarily as he conveniently sneezes and the obstruction she was already beginning to worry about coincidentally collapses on itself. Huh. "Get your head in." tourists! Not that her accent sounds quite right for the area. Boston... ish. Sort of. In a round-about way. "I shoot things, Clark. I can't fly or affect gravity or anything like that. But there's still people here that hope if they keep their head down they'll be okay. I've seen people fight with whatever they can get their hands on, because they don't feel like they have a choice. You go to the hospitals you've got doctors working until they're curled up in the corner to catch a few hours and at the end of the day they're just hoping it's enough. You know?" She nudges the car carefully through the debris and turns left into another street, angling. She can see a cluster of the demons up ahead, and is mentally debating whether to avoid in order to make sure the guy in the back seat is safe, or find out what's caught their interest. So help her, she figures it's at least worth a look. 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' Nodding as he pulls his head back in the car, Clark offers an embarrassed look. "Yes, ma'am. Miss. Molly," he continues, correcting himself. Even as he does so, there's a sharp ZZZONKKKK sound of a parademon weapon that slices through the space that Clark's head had just occupied. "Whew!" he whispers. "Good call, there. I take it that marksman's eye comes in handy in a wide range of circumstances, then?" Down a side street, the car's occupants can see a parked city bus explode as a pair of parademons flies away from it. The parademons up ahead, meanwhile, seem to have surrounded a group of children on a school field trip, hands held per the 'buddy' system. "That doesn't look good..." Clark says, eyes narrowing slightly. 

:'''{{#var:1045|Molly (1045)}} has posed:''' Oh bloody... war gods. Molly purses her lips and counts to five as she glances in the mirror from behind her lenses and grips the steering wheel. She can only struggle to be relieved and distracted by the fact that it missed. She's half talked herself in to turning the car around when there's an explosion and... kids. "No, it's not." she reaches for the bag on the front seat with her and murmurs,"Look... your people said to make sure you're safe. But.." but kids. She pauses and expels a breath,"The building there. It's still.. structurally sound." she suggests as she pulls out a metallic object about the size of a backpack and sets it on top, fishing a cell phone from her pocket only to open it up like some kind of handheld gaming system as she issues to it,"Shadow, initiate start-up sequence." "This here... is Shadow, okay? Shadow here... will defend you to the best of its abilities, but I want you to go in there and be safe, okay? Because I'm not going to let those things take those kids back to wherever they came from." not kids. She draws the line there, pay or no pay. 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' "Of course," Clark says nervously. "Completely understood. Good luck," he adds, before bolting out of the car toward the identified building. He stumbles a few times--and dives for cover from potential parademon observation at least once--and then is hidden inside the structure. The children, meanwhile, cry and sob and shake in terror. The parademons talk with one another in an indecipherable language. It doesn't sound good, though. One of them procures several pairs of high-tech-looking shackles. None of the aliens seems to notice Molly--or at least pay her any mind--yet. 

:'''{{#var:1045|Molly (1045)}} has posed:''' "Shadow, protect asset Clark Kent, at all costs." she lets the little backpack drone toddle after him on its spindly legs as she folds the device closed again and sticks it in her pocket. It's a simple drone, with the approximate intelligence of a dog. Likely to be little more than an annoyance to him, but well, for Molly at least it's the best she can do to try and fulfill her contract right now. The car gets turned off before she slides carefully out. For her it's not a good situation, and the way she looks at the building he's in she's contemplating whether or not she should have given him a gun, too. But finally she decides to leave the bag on the front seat, taking the fletchette pistol from under her jacket to check it and wind up the dispersion before slinking up the street. This, at least, she's good at. She doesn't try to look for Clark, presuming him safe as she creeps up the street until she's at an angle from the children... she doesn't trust those things to not try and hurt them and at the same time doesn't want them caught in the crossfire. First, it will be a rock. Because, well, why not? Lobbed overhead from a hiding spot to try and distract them from looking her way at least. 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' The parademons turn their attention to the sound--not because it's a noise but because it's so close to their own location. Two of them slowly approach the point of impact, while another begins looking for a potential origin. In the building, Clark creeps through the shadows, Shadow behind him. Around one corner, Clark falls into an empty stairwell. For a moment, he's hidden in darkness. For that moment, there's a quick, silent blur that collects the children while the parademons' attention is occupied elsewhere. The children find themselves inside the building, behind a protective corner. A moment later, Clark lands at the bottom of the stairwell with a loud 'THUD' and a slightly quieter "Oof!" As the dust settles from his impact, he sits up and groans--and then sees the children nearby. "Oh ... hello there," he says quietly. "I'm Clark. This is my friend, Shadow," he adds, as the drone catches up. Outside, one of the parademons notices the children have gone missing, and it shouts out /something/. The other parademons begin powering up their inexplicable alien technology. 

:'''{{#var:1045|Molly (1045)}} has posed:''' What in the hell just... happened? Granted, she could try and do a replay but there's a slightly more immediate problem. Were the children a trick? Or was that...? For a pico second all she can do is gape at the spot where the children were. And then it sinks in, the only person on the street for her to have to worry about now is her own ass. The curious one has the next second to try and alert its friends as the fletchette pistol comes up and she lets it fly with the electric *whiiinnee* *FWOOMF* of twenty darts per second into it's insectile face while already moving. These ones... well, after the Furies they're not as scary, at least. She doesn't pause as she comes up towards the group of them over the corpse of the first. It's not pretty, at all, the second gets jumped on and her free hand buried with its hidden blades in it. There's no playing nice with them as far as she's concerned, just the quick and efficient decimation of the small group so she can go smush a foot over where the kids were and then trot towards the building to check on Clark. 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' The parademons' attempts to catch up to the rapid action of their opponent are, to an individual, too slow. They drop, one after another, as Molly figuratively plows through them. A wayward blast from one weapon, as it hits the ground, soars up to strike a gargoyle atop a nearby building. Inside, Clark sits with the children, who are still scared but, now, equally dazed and disoriented. "Ah, Shadow," Clark says to the drone, "can you let Molly know that we've got some company in here? And that they're probably going to need some help getting back to school or home?" The reporter offers a warm smile to his young companions. "And maybe we can get you all a snack, too. Anyone hungry?" he asks. A number of hands are raised, their owners suddenly focused on a familiar sensation. "Oh!" Clark says as Molly approaches. "It sounds like my other friend is here. She's a great driver. Everyone still have their buddy? Snacks are on me." He slowly gets to his feet and brushes the dust off his pants. 

:'''{{#var:1045|Molly (1045)}} has posed:''' Children. Children? It brings Molly to a halt as she follows her device to the drone and comes around the final corner to the oddest scene she had not expected. As evinced by being discombobulated enough that she actually turns back the direction she came from with her mouth open as she tries to work it out and then snaps it closed with the shake of her head, muttering under her breath in pidgin Japanese as she slides the device away,"Shadow, return to vehicle and enter stand-by mode." Oh god. There's... they're... small, and sticky. And this is just... at least it's an excuse to get the reporter back to something resembling safety,"Uh. Yes. Snacks. I... let's... uh. You can bring them." parademons are one thing... kids? Terrifying. She slinks back in the direction of the car, only pausing to make sure none of them wander off in the interim and trying, very hard, to at least look like she knows what she's doing when it comes to a bunch of small children,"I'll... ah... call my daughter. They're not all going to fit... in the car, y'know." And no doubt, eventually, a pink and purple portaling mutant is going to show up to help ferry them to safety. Snacks are on Clark, after all. 
}}

2444/A Late Night at the Office

2017-09-14T06:04:04Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/09/14 |Location=Daily Planet |Synopsis=It's "all hands on deck" at the Daily Planet in order to rebuild the paper's website and daily prin..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/09/14
|Location=[[Daily Planet]]
|Synopsis=It's "all hands on deck" at the Daily Planet in order to rebuild the paper's website and daily printing layout after a catastrophic technical failure. Clark and Lois deal with their coworkers and their own concerns regarding their immediate obstacles.
|Cast of Characters=15, 256
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' It's a late night at the Daily Planet, well beyond normal business hours. And yet there is a surprising number of staff members here. Why? Because the paper's servers have been corrupted, meaning that everything needs to get RE-prepped for late-night printing--to say nothing of repopulating the Planet's website! In the bullpen, Clark Kent sits with a loosened tie as he works on a series of listicles. "What did I say was the fourth-most delicious pastry of the tri-state area, again?" He scratches his head. Nearby, Steve Lombard leans back in his chair, feet up on someone else's desk. He tosses a football up in the air. "Lucky me--I get to sit here watchin' you flounder, Kent! At least sports scores are easy to grab from other sources!" "Lombard," Ron Troupe says with a sigh, "that means you're basically worthless." Steve's eyes grow wide and he stares into the distance for a moment ... a moment long enough to distract him from the football plummeting toward his face. It hits him in the nose and he curses, grabbing at his face. "Mmmm," purrs Cat Grant from a nearby desk. "/Some/ of us are smart enough to keep offline backups, dearie." She holds up a CD labeled 'Fashion Week '18-24'. 

:'''{{#var:256|Lois Lane (256)}} has posed:''' "You ALL are useless, if you actually think ANY of that matters or anyone is going to care the day after tomorrow. Clark, just put some shit in there down on 5th street, that's the hot avenue these days and no one will blink twice. Lombard, you are worthless and you just pulled scores off your fantasy league's web page, so I'd take two on that if I were you. Check ESPN. And Grant... didn't we cut most of the fashion page to extend my city council article?" Lois states with a deeper smirk and a USB drive flashing between her fingertips, her fingernails perfectly manicured and flashing red around the modern technology. She then pops that drive into her personal PC, the one she DOESN'T hook up to the servers, and opens up the spread from several hours before. "...Indeed. You must have an old copy, Grant. Here. Use mine." She saves another copy herself and then ejects the drive, tossing it across the room, "Catch. I need coffee." Lois half grumbles. And while she just half bitched everyone out, the moment the servers went down, Lois has been peeled to her desk helping people recreate the entire night -- pulling stuff out of old emails, calling sources for back up documentation, and working head over heels for about five hours straight. No coffee. No dinner. A few went out when the techs came, she refused. So, the fact that she's going for coffee now probably means the worst is over, or that she's near passing out on her feet. Either way, not even bothering to put her high heels back on, she pads off to the shabby little break room. 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' Cat's response to Lois's takedown is a silent stare, mouth agape. After she manages to blink, she tries to speak but can barely make a quiet noise of shock. Steve's response is to scowl, muttering under his breath: "It was just the once, and it was an honest mistake, anyone would've done it after the night out I had..." Ron, meanwhile, smirks at Lois and nods. "Now that's what I call being a reporter." Clark pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and clears his throat. "It's the /principle/ of the thing, Lois! If we can't be the gold standard against which other news venues are compared, what good are we?" As Lois moves off toward the break room, an IT technician seemingly materializes out of thin air, slipping into Lois' chair. As he prepares to type on her keyboard, Clark stands and closes Lois' laptop. "Sorry, but that's not Planet property." He offers a polite smile and then walks after Lois. "What a turd," Steve says to Cat. "He's kissin' up even when she's not around to see it!" 

:'''{{#var:256|Lois Lane (256)}} has posed:''' It's not until Lois is alone in the break room that she lets the headache show on her face, the aching tension from having sat at her desk in a quiet panic the entire night, and just the fact that she's not as young as she used to be. She takes two seconds to breathe out slowly and sinks her shoulders against the wall near the coffee machine, one hand coming up to rub at her temples. She might just stay like that forever, except she hears the soft footfalls of someone else coming in the room and she immediately pulls herself back together. No, this is fine. Everything is fine. "Kent. Gave up on the journalistic integrity of pastries? What about your cat show article, did you salvage any of it? I know it's hard hitting journalism back in Smallville. I'd hate for you to lose all that work." Lois was only partially joking, but the defensive jokes had cracks around the edges. SHe was tired and snappy, so poor CLark was paying for it. She then turns to grab at the pot of coffee. There better be some left. 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' As Clark enters the break room, he nods slowly in response to Lois' words. "I suppose it's not the most spectacular story that's ever been published, true," he says quietly. "But it was my assignment and I aim to get it right. Our readers deserve that, don't they?" Clark pulls a chair out from the small round table near the fridge and sits in it, his shoulders slumped forward. He stifles a yawn and sighs. "We can't be expected to just invent stories, as tempting as it might be to think there's some salacious reason the Planet's data backups all disappeared." He looks up to the coffee pot. "Enough in there for two cups?" he asks in a hopeful tone. 

:'''{{#var:256|Lois Lane (256)}} has posed:''' "No, we can't just invent stories... and we're not. Hence all of us being here until dawn." Lois rasps out quietly, rubbing one hand across her eyes in an attempt to see straight. "And that's why I keep the personal laptop and never hook it up to the servers. People used to call me paranoid. Paranoid my ass. The more information goes digital, the LESS secure it is. The only thing secure is paper, and not even that. The more advanced we get with technology, the more crap data storage gets. We're still finding clay tablets from a thousand years ago with data on it... You think any of our shit is gonna last 1,000 years? Sure as hell not." Lois mutters, a rant he's heard from her before but she's feeling particularly salty about it. She then pads straight over to the coffee machine, picking up the pot and staring at the single cup of coffee that is left. She sighs at his question, "Yeah...just enough." She lies, grabbing down two of the paper cups and halfing the cup between them. She gives him crap but there were little things that showed, well, she might just care. She hands him his half cup. 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' Clark strokes his chin and nods. "You know, that's not a bad idea, Lois," he says, accepting the paper cup. "Paper as a secure way to restore digital data. Do you think any of the support crew can have old paper issues scanned to grab text to create stories? I know it won't necessarily help with images or the born-digital content, but..." He sips the coffee. "Maybe I'm just tired, but this is surprisingly great. What's your secret? Letting it sit for a set amount of time before the perfect flavor stews?" Meanwhile, out in the bullpen, a crash can be heard--followed by Cat shrilly shouting: "LOMBARD, YOU IMBECILE! THAT WAS MY ONLY DISC BACKUP OF THOSE STORIES!" 

:'''{{#var:256|Lois Lane (256)}} has posed:''' "We've scanned a lot of the back issues... But..." Lois considers, exhaling quietly, "Well, once the paper is printed, we have that record. It's a matter of making certain they don't destroy the paper archives every three years like facilities wants to do." Lois swears quietly, taking a deep drink of her coffee and sinking down into the thread bare break room couch like a puppet who has had her strings cut. She's just that tired. "...and you are just that tired. Or blowing hot air. Or they don't have good coffee in Kansas. Probably all three things." Lois mutters raspingly at him, though a fond smile crosses her own ashen features for just a heartbeat or two. Then it turns into a wince as she hears the screaming. "...should I tell her I have most her stuff on the back up since I took over most of her page?" 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' Clark gets to his feet with a bit of a stumble. "Uh-oh, I hope--" he begins, stopping as Lois appears nonplussed by the commotion. He listens to her and purses his lips. "Well, maybe it's better if I let her know. After all, it might seem a bit less ... ah ... competitive? ... that way." He shrugs, holding his palms up, and chuckles. "I mean, I know you don't necessarily see /Cat/ as competing for your page space. But she seems to look up to you, in her own way." Clark steps to the door. "Tell you what ... if you hear the sound of her slapping me hard in the face, you can take a picture of the mark for posterity." 

:'''{{#var:256|Lois Lane (256)}} has posed:''' A sideways look is given in Clark's direction as he volunteers to go handle it for her. The fact that Lois sat down on the threadbear couch now means she's owned by that couch, so getting up to tell Cat probably wouldn't happen one way or another, but Clark actually earns a half smile from her through half lidded eyes. "Hmm... It would be kinder. ANd we have to work with her tomorrow. Fine. Go. Tell her. You can grab the file off my computer -- ONLY YOU. The password is Watergate." She mutters with a flat smirk, that being a password that would probably surprise no one coming from her. "I'll be listening for the slap." She offers him with a wink, then she sinks back a bit deeper in the couch, half sprawling as she takes another good sip of her stale coffee. 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' With a nod, Clark disappears out the break room door, his footsteps quieting as he walks away. A moment later, his voice can be heard: "...apparently backups still exist, here on--" His voice is immediately cut off by a loud squeal of joy and an excited clapping of hands. "OH, CLARKIE-POO! YOU'RE MY HERO!" There's a sound--not a slap, but a ludicrously wet smack of lips on a cheek. Clark's nervous laughter carries faster than his followup. "Ahh, Cat, I'm as pleased as you are, believe me, but the real hero here is /Lois/." "Oh." The response is curt and cold as ice. "Of /course/," Cat snarls. 

:'''{{#var:256|Lois Lane (256)}} has posed:''' "...Clarkie-poo..." Lois mutters beneath her breath, practically spitting the words as she stares at the door that leads out into the office. She has a half a mind to march out there, but then Clark is giving the news about her back up. Exhausted or not, she suddenly feels a need to save the boy from that woman's snarl. So, with a quiet groan, Lois pushes herself back up off the old couch and stalks back into the front room. "Sorry, Cat. I didn't realize you'd actually trust Lombard...Here. Let me..." Lois murmurs, leaning over to open and type in her password. She grabs the drawer open on her desk, pulling out one of about fifty USB drives in there, sticking it into the side of her computer and quickly downloading the InDesign file, "It's... the layout file, so you're going to have to pull your text out of it, but I've got the fashion pages along with mine..." It takes a few moments, InDesign documents a hell of a download, but she gets it on the drive and then hands it over to Cat. "You're welcome." 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' Her eyes narrowed, Cat accepts the USB drive with a barely suppressed sneer. "Gee, /thanks/, Lois." After the drive is in her hand, she clutches it and sighs. "I suppose it'd be too much to expect /not/ having to see your above-the-fold pieces over mine." Then, she turns and bats her eyelashes at Clark. "Still," she adds, her voice calming somewhat, "thanks for trying, shy guy." For his part, Clark attempts to surreptitiously wipe off Cat's bright red lipstick from his cheek with his tie. It's not very successful. "Ahh," he mumbles. "I remembered--it was the apple turnovers at Garcia's Bodega." Steve attempts, equally unsuccessfully, to crazy-glue the broken CD back together over the shards of a flower vase. 

:'''{{#var:256|Lois Lane (256)}} has posed:''' "...Catherine Grant. I could lecture you right now about real journalism, about the meaning of a long term investigation, or that there is more in this city than looking good. BUt that would just be cruel. I understand you love what you do. I can respect that, and I'm glad I have your stuff. So you ARE welcome. You just have to understand I love what I do as well and it just happens to sell more papers than you. So we can work together or you can keep pouting and delay us even longer." Lois states flatly, her tolerance for bullshit having completely gone out the window. After that little lecture, she turns back to her desk and slumps down in the chair. She stares at her open computer, all of her articles in tact, but doesn't move otherwise. Her work is done. She COULD go home, but there are others who might need her and she's int hat so tired she can do nothing but stare at the screen phase. Hell, she's even forgotten her coffee. 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' Looking around, Clark nods. "You know what could really help? Ma Kent's tea. Sure, some say it's just extra-brewed Lipton's, but it always helped me get through late nights studying for exams in Smallville." He claps his hands and procures a handful of tea bags from a drawer in his desk. "Plus, it's calming despite being a pick-me-up. Tastes like home." Clark begins back toward the break room, but then he pauses and looks back at the group. "I know we'll get through this, everyone. This is the greatest team of reporters /ever/." Cat Grant is busy mumbling profanities at a barely audible level while copying and pasting story after story after story into new files on her computer. In the midst of her curse storm, she manages to whisper, "Thank you," with a millisecond's worth of glancing in Lois' direction. 

:'''{{#var:256|Lois Lane (256)}} has posed:''' Having already said you are welcome twice, Lois doesn't feel the compulsion to actually say it again. But she gives a little look in Cat's direction and a small tilt of her head. A truce, for now. Lois then looks back to her computer and rubs one hand across her eyes, hoping they will focus a bit better now. To no luck. "...Did Smallville just ramble something on about his mother's tea? Isn't she back... in Kansas, or wherever?" Lois mutters, her brain only catching up. She then realizes that he's heading back to the break room. "I better follow before he burns the place down on that eletric kettle. I don't even remember the last time we used that thing..." No, she swears she's not just making an excuse to spend time with Clark. He was a nerd and her friend, that was it. Even if both Steve and Cat watch her with smirking, knowing eyes, Lois is following Clark into the break room, oblivious to the rumors that are already going around. "You flying your mum in here to make us tea, or something, Smallville? Tea won't cut it on a night like this..." 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' Shaking his head, Clark offers a warm smile. "Not at all. She taught me her recipe. Moms always know best, don't they?" He begins filling up the kettle and organizes his pile of tea bags. "You're a good person, Lois. Cat appreciates it, I can tell--even if she won't say so. Before you came out, she ... ah ... tried to let me know how grateful she was for your help." Clark procures several clean mugs, somehow, from the depths of a cabinet. "I've got to say, the real story should be how the staff overcame these obstacles to get the news out on time!" Clark turns to lean against the counter while the kettle begins to heat up. "And its ability to come together as a team to succeed." 

:'''{{#var:256|Lois Lane (256)}} has posed:''' "She tried to show you how grateful she was by nearly assaulting you in the work place and you REALLY could go to HR about her, you know? Sexual harrassment goes both ways." Lois dead pans, trying not to sound a little bit jealous because maybe she is but there is no reason for her to be jealous. So, clearly, this was an HR concern. She sinks her slender frame against the coffee table, resting hips there and folding her arms across her chest. Just a touch cold, the sort of cold that comes with bone-deep exhaustion, but she is holding up. "...It really is the story that we didn't kill each other. But we print that shit and then sudden the Gotham Gazette is calling us a two bit hack job of a paper who can't even keep our servers running. And... they might be right, but we can't let the public know. We expose everyone else's dirty underwear, not our own. Come on, Smallville. This is first year J-school stuff." Lois half teases him, tossing a casual wink in his direction. 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' "I'm sure Cat was just showing her appreciation as best she could, given her excitement. No reason to suspect the worst, Lois," Clark says softly. "Not everyone's cool under fire--or, perhaps, used to the pace of life during harvest season. Which, you've got to admit, this night kind of feels like." Clark adjusts his glasses and looks to the kettle. "As far as the technical failure and reporting on it ... I suppose you're right. But perhaps it could be useful to show our readers that we're as human as they are? It might, I don't know, add a sense of compassion throughout our reporting. Heck," he adds with a wink, "it might even bring some readers to sympathize with Steve." "Nearly there..." Clark says, staring at the kettle. It begins whistling, almost as if on cue. 

:'''{{#var:256|Lois Lane (256)}} has posed:''' "If *you* want to write that editorial, Kent, I'll... back your play with Perry, but good luck getting it past. You don't quite have the innocent pout Olson used to, or the boobs that Grant does, so you're going to have to get this through on charisma alone. But... if you want to put it in, sure, put more work on your desk. Would be nice to see you do something that isn't cats and pastries." Lois mutters, unfolding her arms so she can give his elbow a teasing little chuck with her knuckles. She knows he's written more, but it never means she'll stop bothering him about it. "...and I'm skeptical about this tea plan. If coffee that's been brewing since this morning can't get me through, you really think Ma Kent is the answer?" Lois eyes the kettle as it begins to whistle, like he's brewing up some demon magic potion and not just tea. Tea is a foreign concept in Lois' world. 
}}

2433/Little Park of Horrors

2017-09-14T06:00:39Z

Manowar:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/09/13
|Location=[[Queensland Park]]
|Synopsis=Chaos erupts during the blooming of a 'century sunflower' in a community garden in Queensland Park. Fortunately, several superheroes are on the scene to mitigate damage and injury.
|Cast of Characters=15, 950, 32, 41, 1368, 55, 239
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' In a small community garden in Queensland Park--one of the few green spaces that the "park" designator adequately describes--a small celebration has begun. What's the occasion? It's the blooming of the century sunflower, a weed that supposedly unfurls its glorious petals when a particular celestial alignment--in this case, an eclipse--occurs. And today is such a day! The garden is practically overflowing with citizens of all stripes, from local residents to moguls to photographers to ... well, you name it. "Welcome, welcome all!" the garden's volunteer organizer, Claudia Gomez, says happily. "In just a few moments, the eclipse will approach totality and we can witness the sunflower's blossom in all its beauty!" Myriad conversations cause some din: "/I/ heard this plant is from another dimension!" "Is it really worth it to have a garden spotlighting a flower that almost never blooms?" "Are the snacks gluten-free?" "Think this place'll get bought and turned into a Big Belly?" 

:'''{{#var:950|J'onn (950)}} has posed:''' J'onn has heard some of this before when wandering around in his various identities. Today, he's in the form of a tall african american man, well dressed but not enough to stand out. He mingles in with the crowd, watching the interactions of the Humans, and enjoying a day where their curiosity draws them together. His mental scans occasionally move about the park, because you can never be too careful with everything happening lately. They are not intrusive, more just a portion of his early warning system, attempting to identify potential threats and malicious intent. 

:'''{{#var:32|Karen Starr (32)}} has posed:'''     Among the crowd, Karen Starr had been watching the celebration for a while now. In a pair of blue jeans, a button up shirt, and the typical pair of glasses, she looked like most any other person out there. She was curious about the flower, especially after the rumor that it was from a different dimension..... 

:'''{{#var:41|M'gann (41)}} has posed:'''     A red-haired young lady is in the park, she had heard of the celebration and the blooming. Certaonly she had the ability to see this happen again in the future, but why not see it now?     The girl, a pink-skinned girl, not green at all is dressed in a pair of black and white striped overalls, a red blouse under that, and a railroad conductor's cap. She strolls through the park, sipping on a straw which is thrust into a sweet drink made of cherry syrup=doused crushed ice.     She too is lightly scanning the minds around her when something about the African-American man draws her attention. She turns and finds a spot to watch both him and the center of attention both. 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore drifts along in back, looking around idly. This almost never happens, and with all the rumors around the flower.. well, there's just too much risk that somebody is going to show up and start trouble. She doesn't know anything about the flower itself, and it really doesn't mean much to her, but all these people? She doesn't want anything bad to happen to them. She sniffs at the air softly, aimlessly following a scent of old book that nobody around her notices, looking around to see which way she is wandering. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' Just to make things more confusing another blonde mills through the crowd looking like Karen. She wears a tan skirt with a polo shirt and cardigan with some sweet mary janes. Pushing up her glasses and tightening her pony tail she braves the crowd looking like an under age librarian. 

:'''{{#var:239|Victoria (239)}} has posed:'''     Victoria is not just in the park she is also celebrating. She bobs and bops as she travels, her feet sliding easily along the ground thanks to the black roller skates she's wearing. The girl is a riot of color. Dirty-blonde tresses, blue eyes, caramel skin, and clad in a bright pink "Metro City Bomber Girls" Roller Derby T-shirt and black jeans. Throw in the incandescent smile and she's pretty noticeable despite being a few inches shorter than average. No trouble here, at least, and she's an expert skater so she doesn't even run anyone over. 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' As the sun begins to hide behind the moon, the sunflower's petals begin to slowly open. So very slowly. The inside of the few petals that have unfolded so far, at least, shows a brilliant near-infrared that's almost glowing. There's plenty of ooh-ing and ahh-ing. And lots of selfies. So many selfies... Suddenly, the ground rumbles. An explosion in the distance, perhaps? But that doesn't seem to be the case. "Did anyone else feel that?" asks a bespectacled man with a Daily Planet press lanyard on. Then, the ground rumbles again. The earth begins to shift. And groan. The garden's center lifts, a makeshift hill that explodes!, revealing the sunflower to be some sort of illicium, both in terms of its floral appearance and its function on the head of what appears to be a massive worm-like creature with an enormous maw filled with dagger-like teeth. It roars, a sound that's part shriek and part cement mixer. And then it rises, dozens of large centipede legs helping pull it up through its hole. The creature looks about and belches fire onto the snack table, igniting everything and melting much of it. The sun sneaks further behind the moon. And the creature's illicium finishes unfurling, revealing a very, very small--but definitely present--red sun in its center. [It's a MALGOZIAN SLAUGHTER WORM from the nightmare dimension! - Ed.] 

:'''{{#var:950|J'onn (950)}} has posed:''' There are a few people that J'onn notices are not human, but a few of those he already knows given his connection to the League. To Karen he sends a mental message, J'onn's familiar psionic presence should not be a surprise *Hello Karen. It's J'onn.* and he follows it with a mental picture of his current shape. He does feel M'gann's touch, and is extremely interested in something he has not felt in many many years. Just as he starts to try to pin point the psychic activity the 'flower' 'blooms'. Mentally he sighs, and verbally adds "Well, perhaps it is too much to ask for a normal day..." 

:'''{{#var:32|Karen Starr (32)}} has posed:'''     Karen certainly feels it....and even the second rumble before the worm erupts out of the ground. Karen starts to back up. She hears J'onn with her mind and makes a face. "Well...he's right. too much." And she uses the distraction to zip out of the line of sight of everyone else. Only for Power Girl to return and.....keep her distance when she flies in. "Red Sun.......that....can't be good, especially during an Eclipse." 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore sighs. "Fire. It had to breathe fire." She opens her bag in one smooth motion and lifts a square sheet of paper. She reaches up and tears it in half in a clean stroke, then closes her hands together to fold it like an accordion. She turns and tosses one side of the paper, which unravels longer and longer as it flutters through the air. It grows wider, paper turning red and a pattern of brick appearing across the paper as it thickens, slamming down as a solid wall of papery brick between the worm and a bunch of screaming, hopefully fleeing people. She ducks behind the edge of the wall and looks around to see if she is really the only one on hand to deal with this... thing. 

:'''{{#var:41|M'gann (41)}} has posed:'''     M'gann lifts a hand while everyone is busy running or looking at the creature (or so she hopes). She reaches out with her telekinesis and tries to smother the flames on the table. Defending the people is her first priority. Further flaming breath she hope to be able to block with a well-placed shield. Of course, it would be much easier to put a bubble around the monster's mouth or its whole body... but she just didn't think of that. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' Glasses come off, the hair drops, from around a handy corner, Supergirl isn't far behind Power Girl. She rushes through the crowd towards the flower. Seeing a little girl trip in the chaos she ducks and weaves to scoop her up. "Hi, hold on to me and you'll be ok." She tells the girl, pushing off to fly her to the edge of the crowd before setting the child down. 

:'''{{#var:239|Victoria (239)}} has posed:'''     Victoria yelps when she sees the worm and then hurriedly pivots, skating away as fast as she can. Apparently her Roller Derby experience hasn't prepared her for facign down a gigantic wyrm monster that breathes fire. She quickly skates back and around a corner of her own, ducks into a doorway - and pulls pretty much the same trick as all the other heroines. Gravitas is a less well known entity, but she does know Supergirl and Power Girl. It's a latex convention in the sky. "Power girl! Do you have any idea what's going on up here...?" She stops short when the Kryptonian does. "I couldn't save the snacks. Darn it..." 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' Clark Kent, the Daily Planet reporter, says that he'll call the authorities and ducks into a nearby alley. At the same time, the snack table flames are doused. Moments later, Superman flies in and touches down in front of a young mother and infant, just as the giant worm attempts to incinerate them. Behind the Kryptonian's cape, the pair is safe, but Superman winces. "That...that's not an entirely comfortable feeling," he says, and looks up toward the red sun before helping the mother and child toward safer ground. The worm twists about and begins moving to try and eat a cluster of attendees in gardening hats. Unfortunately for the predator, a brick wall appears out of nowhere. The worm slams its face into the wall and shrieks again, skittering about for a better vantage point. "Thanks, Supergirl!" a rescued child says to her savior. Superman begins to fly toward a man past his prime, but he ends up leaping and then stumbling. He runs toward the man and points toward a building across the street. "You can make it! I'll cover you!" The worm skitters past, and one of its insectoid legs swipes at the Man of Steel. A wound opens up across his chest, and Superman looks down at it. "Take care not to get too close, if you can help it," he calls out. All around, fireballs roil in the air. The worm shoves its weight against a building at the edge of the garden, and cracks begin to run up its brick facade. It's not going to stay up much longer! 

:'''{{#var:950|J'onn (950)}} has posed:''' J'onn first turns invisible during the commotion, and once that's done he shifts to his Martian Manhunter form. He grimaces as he see's the flames, thankfully small at this point, but likely to spread if not dealt with immediately. He sends another message to Power Girl, pausing as the flames go out on their own, a sense of the telekinesis in play... Interesting... *Karen, I will attempt to divert it's attention to allow the people to escape. Also, be careful, as I"m not sure the effect this Red Sun will have on you.* He flies high above the fire and the crowd, to land on the opposite side of the Malgozian Slaughter Worm, and becoming visible. His shape grows in size to match the monstrosity's mass, and offering the most likely target. He positions himself so that any further flame attacks will not endanger any humans. Outload the Martian Manhunter adds, "Superman, If you can deal with the fire, I can keep it's attention..." His fists growing to three times their size, and attempting to grab the worm, "...You may be able to use your vision from a distance to burn it.." He supplements his physical strength with a tremendous telekinetic push to move it away befor ethe building collapses. 

:'''{{#var:32|Karen Starr (32)}} has posed:'''     "Looks like we've got a worm with a red sun. Priority goes to clearing the people before you engage, Gravitas." Power Girl says to Gravitas. Then she gets the message from J'onn. "Correction, make sure EVERYONE that can't fight is out before you engage, Gravitas." Power Girl says before she flies off to help another family out as well.... 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore sighs deeply and studies the building for a moment as she starts running that way. She starts twisting the half sheet of paper into a roll, running her fingers along it, then throws it, javelin-like, at the building. It glitters, metal-like, slamming into the side of the building lightly. The other side of the bar drops to the ground, as it lengthens into a giant I-beam shoring the building up a bit. She frowns, since one brace isn't going to keep that building up by itself for long! "What IS this thing?" 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' "Be safe!" Supergirl calls to the girl and rushes back into the fray to help get the last stragglers out. "Is that a red sun? Really?!" She calls out and makes an exasperated noise when she finally rejoins everyone. "Oh Superman, you're hurt!" She frowns and looks to the worm, unleashing some heat vision action on the worm. 

:'''{{#var:41|M'gann (41)}} has posed:'''     M'gann isn't just a lot of pretty faces and has other abilities than telekinesis. She sees that there are a number of caped heroes and heroines about to engage the creature but perhaps not as many working on the crumbling building. Except for Miyako, of course.     She sets her cup down on the grass and gives it a momentary look of longing. "Please be here when I get back." she mutters to it, then warps light around herself to become invisble a moment, as J'onn did earlier. When she reappears she's green, though her hair is still as red as before. Her clothes have changed as well. That done, she lifts off the ground and moves quickly to the building, where she takes ahold of the created I-beam and braces it with her main strength, careful not to bend it.     M'gann reaches into the building with her mind, contacting all of the brains inside. *Flee! The building is going to fall down! Run now!*      She looks back towards the now-giant J'onn and the others. She disengages from the building's inhabitants and then tries to link all the heroes together, though if they refuse she won't press the issue. *The people should be safe now.* she advises, her psychic 'voice' sounding something like a teenaged girl. 

:'''{{#var:239|Victoria (239)}} has posed:'''     "...Don't engage the worm," Gravitas repeats back to Power girl, nodding as she does so. She takes a deep breath and leans her head back, those blue eyes turning toward the sky. Then she reorients herself on the nearby building. Gravitas nods once and then she shoots towardi t like a shot. There's a dull boom, the roar of a body accelerating toward the speed of sound for a short burst. WHe nshe's close VIctoria places a hand against the building in question, still floating. She's cocnentrating visibly, brow furrowed, fingers slightly curled as she buttresses the building itself - with gravity. Even if it's smashed people may be surprised to discover that it doesn't collapse but instead falls at a comparatively leisurely pace. She's drifting down toward the ground as she concentrates. Lots of parts to an entire building, after all - and that's if she even fully succeeds in what she's set out to do. 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' The worm thrashes about, chomping through a lamp post and demolishing much of the garden's flowers and crops under its numerous limbs. It spies another handful of individuals hunkered down between some planters. Psychically, the creature's thoughts are simple, reflecting its drives: FEED. MATE. SLUMBER. High above, the eclipse moves through totality. Hearing the Manhunter's words, Superman blows a blast of ice-cold breath at a parked car that's caught fire. Just as the automobile is extinguished, Superman's breath gives out, and he gasps. "I'm tapped out," he says to Kara. "But we can do this! I think--I think it's only active during this eclipse! If that's right ... we just need to /hold on/ until the sun's back! We can do that!" Beneath the worm's ground-churning skittering, a fire hydrant bursts and sprays water up into the air. The worm, meanwhile, attempts climbing up the wall of another adjacent building. It manages to reach about thirty feet up before it slides back down to the ground, with a large amount of debris clawed down with it. Dozens of tenants in the crumbling buildings (albeit crumbling much more slowly than is expected) pour out onto the sidewalk, running toward the already-gathered crowd from the garden. "What's happening?!" "Are we going to die?" "Help!" "Why didn't I move to Jersey when I had the chance?" 

:'''{{#var:950|J'onn (950)}} has posed:''' *Well done, young one...* J'onn responds back to M'gann, no pressure from his side of the link, but a curiosity can be felt by the other Martian. Then outloud, he adds, "Thank you for the assistance on the building..." his words are meant for Miyako. J'onn grows two more pairs of arms, both with giant hands greater than his increased stature, and attempts to use all his limbs to hold the worm on the ground "Through the darkness, we will find the light, Superman?" The Martian quips to his friend. He's willing to take several gashes to his torso in order to keep the monster from climbing any more buildings. 

:'''{{#var:32|Karen Starr (32)}} has posed:'''     Power Girl is actually sweating at this point...and her speed is slowing quite a bit. She takes a deep breath.....and then gets an idea. She looks towards Gravitas. "I have an idea." She 'thinks' towards J'onn. "Can you and Supergirl knock it towards the ground. We may have a way to pin it. I think." She says flying over towards Gravitas. "Gravitas. I'm going to need your help. If you can increase gravity to the point where something can't move, wait for the worm to be knocked to the ground.....and PIN it there. It may stop it's rampage." 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore looks over at the people being looked at.. but now there's a pool of water and spray in the air over there. Another wall there wouldn't help! "Ugh! Too much water over there now. I'm open to ideas! I'll try to distract it!" She reaches down and draws out another sheet of paper and starts folding, fingers flittering in a well practiced way as a shape forms in her hands. She bends the wings down one in each hand then shoves it away from the water spray. The figure grows, flaps, and screeches angrily as it gains altitude, growing to the size of a hunting cat, and swoops to attack the worm on the side opposite the people distractingly, pecking and buffeting it with its geometric wings! 

:'''{{#var:41|M'gann (41)}} has posed:'''     The buildings taken care of, more or less, by Gravitas and Miyako free M'gann up to help further. She flies quickly to the fallen light pole that the beast snapped off and she flies OVER the melee (though this might make her a target from a gout of worm-flame) and then down again behind the creature and the other Martian. She telekinetically bends the pole and then tries to slam both ends into the ground on etieher side of the thing, like a giant staple. Hopefully that will help a little while Gravitas gets her powers online. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' Worried for her cousin Kara rushes over. She waves her arms at the worm, moving away. "Woah! Over here you big bug! You should have stayed a flower!" Yeah that's right, laying down the mean smack talk over here. She glances to the others, weary of voicing her worry about the lack of yellow sunlight due to the eclipse. 

:'''{{#var:239|Victoria (239)}} has posed:'''     "I've been praticing this one with Superwoman," Victoria calls out now, shifting her weight slightly as she does. The girl takes a half step back and then looks up at the apartment building. She bites her bottom lip and as the last tenant is clear it begins to collapse toward the ground and into rubble. Stones are thrown clear of the implosion but as they move toward Tori they slow and fall to the ground. Then she turns on her heel and moves toward the worm. "Okay. So... I am pretty sure I can hold the thing down. All you have to do is get it where you want it. Just - pick a place!" Victoria swallows, hard. "Okay. It's only a giant death worm thing that breathes fire. Fires are cool. You can't have s'mores without fire. Except mom has that microwave thing... Focus! Right. Stop the worm..." She tenses, waiting as instructed for something to happne. 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' The slaughter worm's attention is definitely distracted by the origami bird. As it shifts to try and attack the bird, it moves off-balance and falls to the ground. There's a loud THUD! as it makes contact with the earth, and the ground is shaky for a few moments. Then, M'gann's telekinesis binds the worm to the ground with a bent telephone pole. The sun begins to peek out from behind the moon as the eclipse wanes. "If you can, restrain it but don't kill it," Superman says, a hand to his chest wound. "It's just doing what it knows how to do. It's not the worm's fault--and we can always rebuild," he adds with a smile, looking out at the crowds of observers. "We just need to find a more appropriate home for it." The worm writhes and wriggles about in its bonds, much of its attention focused on the Supergirl out of its reach. The petals of the illicium on its head begins to fold back up as the sunlight slowly begins to brighten once more. 

:'''{{#var:950|J'onn (950)}} has posed:''' "Understood, Superman." J'onn says as he continues to use his own increased mass to hold the worm down, "It's thoughts are primitive, but not malicious..." He grunts as he takes two more sharp legs to the ribs. "Anyone that can help pin it down, I will try to keep it from breathing any more flames..." Then J'onn uses two of his four hands to keep the mouth closed while the petals begin to show signs of closing on their own. 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore nods, "Copy that!" She pulls another sheet of paper out and starts working it in her hands, moving around a bit to stay out of reach. She tosses the paper out, and it turns grey and starts growing quickly, before slamming onto the ground on four trunk-like legs and trumpeting from an elephantine trunk, flipping triangular ears and trodding forward to try to pin the worm. The origami crane, undeterred, keeps pecking and beating on the worm, trying to stay on the side away from the people, even if this puts it into obvious danger. 

:'''{{#var:32|Karen Starr (32)}} has posed:'''     "Now. It should be a little easier with a bit of help, but pin it all your might." Power Girl doesn't yell it....but the command is there. She crosses her arms under her breasts since it's Gravitas' show right now....not hers. 

:'''{{#var:41|M'gann (41)}} has posed:'''     M'gann drifts down again and tries to land at about the worm's middle. She doesn't grow, but she does increase her mass a great deal. Not enough to crush the worm but it should hopefully help keep it down a little, like a human-sized paperweight. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' Looking at J'onn and hearing Superman, Supergirl nods. She makes a face and rushes in to help pin the worm down. She makes a face as she holds onto the worm. "This is totally weird! This is totally weird!" She says and looks up, willing the sun to come out faster almost. 

:'''{{#var:239|Victoria (239)}} has posed:'''     "...Maybe not quite as hard as I can," Tori whispers. "That might not be very good for the, um. Garden. Okay. Let's do this." Victoria lifts her hands like she is tryign to encompass something enormous. The girl's hair floats out behind her, wild curls splaying like they are weightless in the air. Other people might feel it as well. The sensation of things slowing down, the sheer intensity of gravitic waves gathering around the worm. The ground starts to buckle and crack as its weight increases. Debris pulls in around it. The scent of ozone is on the air.      Tori wobbles where she is flying twenty feet above, blue eyes wide. Sweat begins to bead on her forehead and then slowly roll down into her eyes. She winces but avoids the urge to flinch. The worm sinks into the softer earth. Just a little. Fortunately the garden is built on top of a paved bed. "It'lll thrash - but I think the, um, telephone pole will... Handle it..." 

:'''{{#var:15|Superman (15)}} has posed:''' As the sun returns to its pre-eclipse brightness, the worm grows still--almost docile. It looks about as if for some means of escape, but it's held fast. The gash along the Man of Steel's chest begins healing quickly, and he floats a full foot above the ground. "Seems like things are returning to normal--as can be, at least," Superman says, approaching the worm. The gathered throng creeps closer to the worm as well, looking around at the carnage and the seemingly defeated creature. "Well, I never!" exclaims one matron. Looking to his super-powered companions, Superman puts his hands on his hips. "If we can make sure it's secured--for its own safety--then we can take it to a place I know." Even as he speaks, Gravitas works to keep the worm pinned. "The place tends not to have many eclipses, so it'll work until a more suitable permanent location can be found." He smiles again and chuckles softly. "Anyone up for a trip up north?" 

:'''{{#var:950|J'onn (950)}} has posed:''' As the worm settles, so does J'onn, and his grip loosens so as not to crush the poor beast. Once he's sure it's under control, he steps back, lower set of limbs sinking back into his body. As he slowly shifts to his normal size, hands returning as well, he nods to the gathered heroes, "Very well done, friends. Your help saved many lives today.." echoing Superman's comments Looking over, J'onn nods his head, "I can be of assistance, Superman." 

:'''{{#var:32|Karen Starr (32)}} has posed:'''     Power Girl takes a deep breath as the sun returns in full force. She then looks to Gravitas and puts a gentle hand on her shoulder. "good woork, Gravitas." She says gesturing for her to come over with her. She even waves to Superman and J'onn and Supergirl. "We'll save the narrator a bit of his voice and say the day was saved ourselves, hmm?" 

:'''{{#var:1368|Miyako Moore (1368)}} has posed:''' Miyako Moore shrugs a bit. "If you think it helps? Anything my origami can do to keep people safe. I.. *think* this will fit on a paper airplane, if it helps to carry it.. Barely.." She gestures at the crane and it implodes into a crinkled piece of folded paper, but leaves the elephant for the moment. 

:'''{{#var:41|M'gann (41)}} has posed:'''     M'gann drifts off the worm again. "Maybe we can just soothe it with good thoughts until we get wherever you want to go, Superman." the green girl offers. She glances at J'onn a moment, there may be thoughts sent back and forth. "I'd be happy to go. I can carry anyone who want to travel along in a bubble, if you like." 

:'''{{#var:239|Victoria (239)}} has posed:'''     "If someone else wants to, um, carry it I can make it lighter so it's easy to handle? "Tori offers, gritting her teeth while she speaks. he takes another deep breath and holds it, tensing slightly while she cocentrates. "I could move it probably but I might, err. Crush the poor guy. Moving things with gravity is harder than it look." She puffs softly. "Keeping him calm when I ease up would probably be a good idea. Sounds like a plan, I guess...?" 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' "North?!" Kara smiles brightly. "Yes! I am very in for a trip north." She claps her hands, excited as she drifts over to inspect her cousin. "Feeling better Kal?" She wonders and studies him and the worm. 
}}

Superman

2017-09-14T05:40:26Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{CharacterNew |NameOnMUSH=Superman |Color=#333 |TextColor=#c1c1c1 |Char_id=15 |Img=https://i.imgur.com/JtOZfyp.jpg |FullName=Clark Joseph Kent / Kal-El |Gender=Male |Species=..."

{{CharacterNew
|NameOnMUSH=Superman
|Color=#333
|TextColor=#c1c1c1
|Char_id=15
|Img=https://i.imgur.com/JtOZfyp.jpg
|FullName=Clark Joseph Kent / Kal-El
|Gender=Male
|Species=Kryptonian
|Theme=DC
|Chartype=EFC
|Active=Active
|Occupation=Investigative Reporter
|Groups=[[Justice League]], [[Superman Family]], [[DBC]]
|Quote=You're much stronger than you think you are. Trust me.
|PAge=29
|AAge=29
|DOB=29 February 1996
|Height=191 cm
|Weight=107 kg
|Hair=Black
|Eyes=Blue
|Actor=Christopher Reeve
|Song="Superman Main Title March" by John Williams
|Profile=Superman. Kal-El. The Man of Steel. He is the most iconic superhero in the world. Adore him. Worship him. Love him. Hate him. Whatever emotion the 'S' stirs it is a strong one.
}}

2217/Coming of the New Gauds

2017-08-29T15:06:28Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2025/08/28 |Location=Flatbush, Brooklyn |Synopsis=The Superbuddies respond to an extraterrestrial redecorating expedition undertaken by Dawn Draper..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2025/08/28
|Location=Flatbush, Brooklyn
|Synopsis=The Superbuddies respond to an extraterrestrial redecorating expedition undertaken by Dawn Draper and the Ruinous Renovators--themselves part of the posse of the indescribable Mister Nebula!
|Cast of Characters=12, 1039, 69
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' The skies are scarlet this early morn, hanging over the city like a flimsy gauze cast down by the gods. A sound like the crashing of cymbals--crack! Smash! CLANG! And then, in the middle of a heavily trafficked intersection, appears a half-dozen individuals garbed in strange attire. "LO!" one shouts, extending its arm out before itself. "WE ARE COME! LET THE CONSULTATION COMMENCE!" The others begin assembling a complex apparatus that looks like a hybrid printer, Play-doh fun factory, and oscilloscope. "TOUCH NOTHING, LEST YE RUIN THE ULTRA-FENG SHUI OF THIS ORB!" the leader shouts, a garish cloud of crackling energy dots growing visible about its hand. This was thirty minutes ago. Now--the intersection is covered in a horrific combination of colored patterns--plaids and paisleys! Stripes and dots! All is amok! ALL IS IN PERIL! For the Earth has seen the coming of ... DAWN DRAPER AND THE RUINOUS RENOVATORS! Meanwhile, even now, at Superbuddies HQ--which is to say a local wings bar... "Booster, you seein' this?" Blue Beetle says, pointing his thumb at the TV. "Wackiest parade in weeks." Just then, his cell phone beeps an alert. "Wait a minute..." Beetle says, checking his notifications. "There's a lowest-bid call for applications right now on this thing. The city's willing to take anyone for the job!" "Well!" the Blue Beetle shouts, slamming his palm on the bar top. "No one's more lowest-bid than US!" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Booster's dressed in the suave fashion to which he's become accustomed-- the 'my dad is a lawyer' starter pack. Louvered green sunglasses, a pink polo shirt with the collar turned up, khakhi shorts, and boat loafers. He looks like he just came up from Columbia University on Spring break, and he's throwing back beer and hot wings like no one's business. "Man, you don't even /know/," he mutters, over his fifth plate of spicy wings. His knees are weak, his palms are sweaty, but he keeps digging in. "Real chicken, this would be, like-- you can't even afford it in the future. No one keeps livestock." He glances at Ted's phone when the notification comes in, and promptly shovels the last fistful of boneless wings into his face once Blue Beetle swings into action! "Hurghgagffkfkkrgh!" Booster agrees, chewing heavily then wincing as he swallows a third of his triple mouthful of chicken breast. He nods and claps Ted on the back, throwing a few bills from his wallet on the bartop to cover their tab. 

:'''{{#var:69|Tie-Dye Avenger (69)}} has posed:'''     Nancy is simply staring in shock (and a bit of awe) at Booster's performance. "Wouldn't it be more efficient to get rid of your teeth?" she wonders aloud. "I mean then you could just push the food down without it getting caught."     She shakes her head and picks up another of her pieces of deep fried zucchini. Because yes, she is, in fact, an old school yuppie lost in time somehow. The sudden notification startles her, causing the dipping sauce to smear over her cheek as she turns to check out Beetle's shouting.     "Oh, God," she mutters. "This is going to be an SB job, isn't it?" 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "HUMANS!" Dawn Draper shouts, its voice an off-key synthesized polyphony. "KNEEL BEFORE US ... THAT WE MAY MORE EFFICIENTLY PREPARE THY GARB!" The alien points a sceptre of some sort at a minivan. There's a prismatic beam and a ZONKKKK sound, and the minivan turns neon orange. Another beam creates a sort of 'pleated khakis' facade on a nearby storefront. Even at this moment, the Beetle shifts gears at the helm of the Bug, the not-even-remotely-aerodynamic vessel shrieking through the morning sky. "Coming in hot, everybody!" Beetle shouts. "Get ready to jump!" As he leaps from the Bug's belly like a paratrooper, Ted is struck by a renovation beam. No longer is he the Blue Beetle! Now he is ... THE ARGYLE APHID! "Noooooooooo!" shouts the Beetle, clawing at his hideous ensemble as he plummets to certain doom. 

:'''{{#var:69|Tie-Dye Avenger (69)}} has posed:'''     "I've got you!" Nancy shouts, as she jumps from the Bug herself, transforming in mid-fall to her other persona. (It's a trick she's been working on to help save the renovation bills for the van.) "Hold on..." The beams coursing around the place find her, and she finds herself translated into ... THE TIE-DYE AVENGER! You can practically hear the sitar and smell the patchouli as she zooms down to catch the Beetle in his plunge to the ground.     "MOTHER. PUS. BUCKET!" she shouts as she sees the colours she's been transformed to, her sun-darkened skin clashing with the white bodysuit with its psychedelic decorations. "SOMEONE IS GOING TO SUFFER FOR THIS!" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Why does the Blue Bug have gears? Who knows! It's a totally legitimate question, of course; it's not like it has a transmission or a drivetrain, or really any gears at all. Likely it's more of a function of a narrative effect; like when the hero pumps a shotgun for emphasis or how people don't say 'goodbye' before hanging the phone up in TV shows. Booster considers none of this, though, as he drops from the bug's cargo hatch as resplendent as the noonday sun-- golden, glittering, and full of hope! "Holy Mother of Megazon, what is he WEARING?!" screeches one of Draper's cronies. "It's so... it's so..." "Tacky!" "All that gold? Ugh! Kill me with a glitterbomb!" "I'll fix him up proper!" another one of the Renovators says, aiming a lasergun at Booster. It smacks against the forcefield around Booster's person, and momentarily the Golden Boy of the Future becomes THE PLAID PROTECTOR! His shield flickers and resets itself, and Booster Gold stands akimbo in the air, hands on his hips. "Hah! You'll have to do better than that, villains!" he crows exultantly at the Renovators. A laser beam lances up from below and smacks into Booster's chestplate with stunning force, knocking him sideways and through the side of a building. "...'kay!" one of the Renovators calls after him. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "OH, HONEY," Dawn Draper calls out to the Tie-Dyed Avenger. "THOU ART NOW GLORIOUS! ALL HAIL!" "HAIL!" shout the Ruinous Renovators in unison as two of them man a tripod-mounted 'fashion cannon' that fired bad taste gatling-style at frightened passersby. Porkpie hats! Platform soles with goldfish in them! Zoot suits! JNCO jeans! Puka shell necklaces! "WHERE IS THE PLAID ONE? HE SHALL BE THE NEXT HERALD OF OUR INTELLIGENT DESIGNER!" the Draper intones. Hanging from Dragonfly's grasp, Ted sneers. "Stomach--churning! So...very...gauche!" Choking back vomit, the Beetle nods toward the cannon team. "Send me that way, coach--*urp*--and maybe, just maybe, I can try to reverse-engineer this slaughter of style..." 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Booster grunts and tries to channel his inner T-Swift and shake it off-- the beam was mostly concussive force, and lightly singed his golden breastplate. "Sheesh," he mutters, flying back out of the hole in the building. "These guys are playing for keeps, Beetle!" Booster shouts, flying an acrobatic loop and peppering them with blasts from his photon cannons. One of the vehicles that was an early target gets hit by their redesigner gun-- this time, it goes from polka dots to plaid, and the car abruptly rusts away in vast sloughing dustfall. "Yikes! Don't let it hit you twice!" Booster yelps, tryring to run coverage for Nancy and Ted. "That recombobulator of theirs isn't just a toy!" "No, it's not!" one of the Renovators screams, gleefully. "Once we establish a color palate... then we have to START WITH A BLANK CANVAS!" Three merchant's stalls in a row get decorated with a riotous shade of neon pink and lime green that make it look like 1988 threw up on them and then yanked down their parachute pants. 

:'''{{#var:69|Tie-Dye Avenger (69)}} has posed:'''     "Oh God," Tie-Dye Avenger whines, "my eyes! They're stabbing needles of hot, neon shame into my eyes!" For a moment she's distracted by the colourful carnage and smacks into a traffic pole, the blow thankfully being cushioned by Blue ... erm ... Plaid ... erm ... Paisley ... ah, whatever! ... Beetle.     "Sorry about that!"     Pulling herself together, the Avenger catches the falling part of the traffic pole, suspending it in midair behind her as she focuses on the device the Beetle mentioned. "You're about to go ballistic, BB. Get ready for a landing. I'll distract them from the front while you take 'em from above!"     With that she slings the Beetle away from her in a telekinetic trajectory while she goes full frontal in the assault, combining the visual assault of her garish outfit with fists as she swoops across the gunners, strewing them like bowling pins.     The Beetle soars in from above, now ballistic once his final trajectory is set. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "NONSENSE!" booms Dawn Draper. "THIS WORLD IS MADE THE BETTER FOR EVERYONE WEARING 8-BALL JACKETS!" The Ruinous Renovators begin rapid-fire attaching rhinestones to every available surface. The Beetle is flung through the air. The fashion cannon zaps him again, and his costume begins to disintegrate around him. "No!" he screams. "My secret shame!" Ted flails about in the air, attempting to cover his tighty whities. "Master!" one of the Renovators cries, lumbering toward a large blue mailbox. "What of this?" "IT IS DECREED," the Draper continues, "PUT A BIRD ON IT! PUT A BIRD ON--EVERYTHING!" Moments before the Beetle collides with the fashion cannon, he is suddenly engulfed in a giant felt bird cut-out. "Mmmrpphh!" he groans as the cannon and its operators skid across the asphalt like knocked-over bowling pins. "YOU FOOLS!" Dawn Draper shouts, sweeping its sceptre around before embedding its base into the street. "IF THIS BE THE SITE FOR EARTH'S DRAMATIC NEW REVEAL--THEN SO BE IT!" The scepter begins to hum and glow, casting out a number of multicolored lights in true 'disco party ball' manner. Dawn Draper closes its eyes in intense concentration. "YOU BETTER /WORK/ IT!" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Booster's visor turns black to protect him from a particularly garish blast of rhinestone-studded glory that'd make certain cowboys faint with joy. "Gah! I'm flying blind, Beetle!" he yelps, trying to avoid a fashion blast. Booster's already the most garish thing in the air, so the Renovators are at least only attacking him with lethal force instead of embarassing him like poor Ted. Booster takes two hits and drops like a stone, bouncing off a power transformer that's currently covered head to toe in Elvian velour. Vegas Elvis, not Tolkein Elvian. "Oh god! It's on me! It's on my armor!" Booster screams, staring at his hands as velour crawls across him, turning his attire into a screamingly seductive shade of deep scarlet with yellow trim. His pants vanish, becoming a kilt sans pleats. "Oh god! I'm turning into Captain Brannigan!" 

:'''{{#var:69|Tie-Dye Avenger (69)}} has posed:'''     "Captain who?" the Avenger wonders aloud as she employs her most important skill: hit things with other things. She wrenches one of the weapons being directed at Booster out of the henchman's grasp and pummels said henchman over the head with it, putting a significant dent into the barrel.     The weapon begins an ominous whining.     "Oh sh..." She reflexively throws it away, hard, embedding it into the wall of a nearby bank. The gun explodes, converting the side (and most of the interior) of the bank into cheap rayon brocade with garish western interpretations of Japanese seven-clawed dragons. You know, the ones that have only six claws because rip-off artists can't count or something.     Rayon, it turns out, isn't much for building supporting curtain walls. (Not much for curtains either, but that's another story.) Loud metalic creaking, paired with the explosive sound of reinforced concrete snapping under a heavy load, begins to fill the air.     "Oh sh..." 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "LET NONE DISRUPT THIS TRANSFERENCE OF STYLE TO THE WORLD!" Dawn Draper shouts, tossing its head back and raising its arms to the scarlet heavens. The air begins to whirl about, casting debris from the street and nearby disintegrating buildings into the air like wind through leather fringe. Lighting illuminates the sky, changing its hue like a Hypercolor(TM) shirt that's gotten wet. "You fool!" Blue Beetle screams in reply. "You can never defeat us--we have /NO FEAR/ of bad taste!" He attempts to walk toward the sceptre, slowed by the wind and buffeted by debris. "We've seen Ed Hardy and lived to tell the tale! Just--just look at us!" The Renovators look at Dragonfly and Booster Gold. Slowly, Dawn Draper does the same, silent for a long moment. The air seems to settle and the sound fades away. "MY GOD," the Draper whispers in a dull shout, a single glittering tear trickling down its extraterrestrial cheek-plate. "THIS WORLD ... IT'S FULL OF CHINOS." As if in sync, the Renovators clutch their temples and shriek, falling to the ground. "No hope," they wail. "No hope!" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Nancy's wrecking terrific havoc; it turns out that interior designers make for bad martial artists, or at least, none of THIS crowd are secret fashion ninjas. Booster looks down at his outfit. "Y'know, this isn't too bad," he says, catching a look at himself in an unbroken piece of business glass. "Nice lines, the pauldrons add a certain... dashing flair," he remarks, turning this way and that. "The skirt is... daring, but... bold," he says, flexing his arms. "It shows real confidence. It takes a MAN to wear a skirt this.. certain. Assertive. A man who says 'I'm proud of my quadriceps'," Booster says, staring at his reflection with an expression of total rapture. "Wow, my calves /are/ gorgeous. Someone take a memo! Re: My amazing legs," he says. Booster's out of the fight, staring at his own reflection with a focus Narcissus would be envious of. 

:'''{{#var:69|Tie-Dye Avenger (69)}} has posed:'''     "Dammit, Booster, we've got invaders to take out! People to save!" The Tie-Dye Avenger swoops in again on the Renovators, aiming with both fists extended for the Draper itself. "Snap out of it!" she shouts as she hits the Draper, carving through it like it's made of light. Which it is. Holograms are that way, after all.     Surprised by the lack of actual contact, the Avenger smashes instead into the bus behind the Draper, its polka-dotted side now indented by one female form. Indent currently filled by one female form.     "Ow?" 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "THAT CUT ... SUCH POSES ... THE ESSENCE OF MAGNIFICENCE!" Dawn Draper falls to its knees and begins sobbing. "TRULY, THIS PLANET IS BOTH UNWORTHY AND READY FOR ITS NEXT TURN ON THE EVOLUTIONARY CATWALK!" the Draper chokes out. "RENOVATORS--WE MUST PAUSE OUR WORK!" The Ruinous Renovators slowly get to their feet, wiping away their own tears, and begin disassembling their machinery. "REJOICE FOR THE MOMENT, HUMANS!" the Draper calls, bowing. "A GREATER POWER SHALL YET DECIDE THY FATE!" The sceptre flies into Dawn Draper's hand, and the odd weather patterns surrounding it cease to exist. Blue Beetle, having braced himself against a strong wind, suddenly falls forward onto his face with a wet thud. The undies offer him no cushioning. Dawn Draper turns its head to consider Dragonfly's point of contact. "CONGRATULATIONS, MORTAL," it says. "THAT ACT OF DESTRUCTION WAS, OF A SORT, CONCEPTUAL ART. SO LIKE FASHION--IF ONLY A FAINT ECHO THEREOF." 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' IN THE VAST REACHES OF STYLISHLY BLACK SPACE "Sir!" Elegant patent-leather shoes scrape and slap against perfectly ordered granite as one of the endless Courtiers of the Fashion Citadel scampers towards the Butane Throne. He moves with his head bowed in polite obsequiousness, which also shows off his intricately embroidered skullcap; manners and customs change almost weekly as the minions of the Master Decorator find new and fascinating clothing options and move from bows to salutes to show them off. A brief flirtation with cuffed trousers had led to an interesting high-kick hello that resulted in a number of bruises. "We have found a world, sir!" the courtier yelps, moving into his master's proximity-- the Amber Throne towers high, and the immaculately attired giant atop it stirs in silent reaction. "Drab, all blues and greens-- and greys! Greys everywhere! It's a world RIPE for redecoration!" "An entire world needing my touch?" the giant muses, in a lyrical voice. "Intersting! Bring me images of this world, and we will see if it deserves the tender caress of..." "...MISTER NEBULA!" 
}}

77/An Average Night in Newark

2017-08-22T04:25:23Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/04/19 |Location=A dive bar in Newark, NJ |Synopsis=Jack Burton, Bjorn Arturson, and assorted barflies get into a friendly bar brawl. |Cast of..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/04/19
|Location=A dive bar in Newark, NJ
|Synopsis=Jack Burton, Bjorn Arturson, and assorted barflies get into a friendly bar brawl.
|Cast of Characters=144, 30
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' "...and, let me tell you, when someone offers ol' Jack Burton a potion that's supposed to give him magic senses and smells like the north end of a southbound garbage demon, well ... let's just say that ol' Jack knows when to make a scene and when to pinch his nose and think of Lady Liberty." The man in the white tank top laughs, slams his palm on the bar top, and throws back a shot. Meanwhile, the whiskery hobo next to him blinks sluggishly and asks, "Who the hell is Jack Burton?" The man in the white tank top sighs. "Really, Mac?" He pushes himself to his feet and sniffs. "Jack's me. I'm Jack. And, if you'll excuse me just a minute, I'm in need of some relief." He makes his way to the restroom. The bar--officially called "The Landing" but colloquially referred to as "The Turdpile"--is not overcrowded at this time of the night. However, those present are a relatively rowdy bunch. There are a few games of pool happening, with at least one tense standoff breaking out with each match. Others are drinking one another under the table. Still others are idly munching on peanuts while trying to stay upright against the bar. Underlying it all is a dense fog of cigarette smoke that fills the air, made all the more acrid by the smell of B.O., vomit, and God knows what else. 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arturson (30)}} has posed:''' Work done, and old haunting grounds quiet, it was time to see what else was in the neighborhood! Libray...boreing, xanatos plaza.... nah. Oh, a bar that smells of a possible fight? Helll yes! Bjorn, a massive man dressed in leather buisness suit seeming far to formal for the bar walks in. His piecing eyes like around a massive grin shows off large canines "Now this is Bjorn kinda place!" his voice booms out And without missing a step he slides past the bar "Eh Bub, get Bjorn your strongest. Not much care what it is!" And before the tender even gts a chance to response, the man breezes his way over to a nearby pool game where the match was getting heated up. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' The pool players seem to be arguing over whether or not one of them--the larger of the two--had 'scratched' his shot. "You ain't gettin' away with it again," the accuser sneers, thrusting a finger into the other's chest. "Already cheated me outta twenty, you son of a--" His insult is cut short by the larger man grabbing the finger and twisting it. "Listen here, /stain/, you know I'm winning fair and square. Stop tryna ruin my rep by makin' these claims." He flexes his hand and makes a tight fist, beginning to throw a punch--just as his opponent flings himself forward, setting the larger man off-balance. It also shifts the larger man's momentum so that his punch ends up directed right at Bjorn's innocent face. 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arturson (30)}} has posed:''' Bjorn has a relatively...short statue as opposed to his weight. Two tons of mass packed into a 7 foot humanoid.... one that happens to be completly solid like a steel wall. The punch is more than likely going to hurt the puncher than Bjorn. Though he does flinch /only/ because he wasn't expecting it! Bjorn cracks his knuckles, which has the distinct sound of metal snapping instead of just bones "Alright men, tell you what, you go cool off your heads and Bjorn will not toss your arse out the door. You kin?" The man always seeks the least violent route first. Though he had a feeling that these fellas may have had one to many to drink. Still, it was a fair warning. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' Bjorn's inadvertent dance partner cries out in pain as his hand breaks on impact. "What the hell--?!" he spits out mid-wince. The man's billiards opponent, meanwhile, takes this opportunity to break a pool cue over his foe's back. "Yeah, take that, jerk!" It's at this moment that Jack Burton returns from the restroom, flicking the water off his hands. "...never have any paper towels in there," he mumbles before spotting the growing brawl. "Whoa, whoa! Two against one? That just ain't right!" With that, he launches himself at the nearest figure in the two-on-one, trying to put his target in a headlock. Unfortunately for Jack, that target is Bjorn. 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arturson (30)}} has posed:''' Bjorn was about to intervene. As this looked like it was quick escalating. But than suddenly he finds a monkey... or rather jack on his back putting him in a headlock no less! The headlock was of course ineffective. "Well, Bjorn did not expect his night to go like this!" Suddenly he dodges to the side of in oncomming pool cue aimmed at his head. Self preservation is still a thing The cue inevetiably hits someone else. He assume it was the guy next to him, and soon that pool table begins to brawl. A chain reaction! Bjorn reaches over himself...his arms alot more flexiable than they would appear to try and grab Jack and pull him off his back "Off with you!" 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' Jack finds himself airborne and upside-down, a position he ponders philosophically for a moment before he goes back-first into the nearest wall. The impact creates a bit of a crater in the wall, and the photos and neon lights that had been mounted on it crash to the floor. The pool players, meanwhile, have spread their wild combat out to incorporate more of the bar's customers. Pitchers full of beer are thrown at others' heads. Pool cues make contact with crotches. Someone leaps onto a pool table and drop-kicks the jukebox (and the Hong Kong Cavaliers begins playing). The bartender simply shrugs and continues cleaning glasses with his rag. 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arturson (30)}} has posed:''' Order and Disarray where the special dish of the day! People from the left and from the right come to charge at Bjorn. Really you would THINK seeing him toss around full grown men would make them think others... but nope. SOme spalsh beer on him and try hitting him in the groin, with no effect "Alright, nice Bjorn go away now" Bjorn lets loose! He begins pick up and throwing people at other people. Not TOO hard, just enough to get them scrambling! Glasses are being chucked, tables flipped. Punches thrown. It was War And it was GREAT! Bjorn joins in the rowdy behavior like he was always one of hem, despite being a suit. Though he seems to make a point of getting in front of the bar whenever a glass is thrown that way Two men with cues go after Jack and SWING BATTERBATTER at him with all their might. This was a no holdems battle royal! 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' Taking two pool cues to the gut, Jack groans and blacks out for a second or two. While Bjorn gets into it, Jack manages to groggily push himself to his feet. He starts to stand, but his legs buckle for a moment. Luckily for him, right then a trashcan is thrown at the wall where his head would have been. "Hell, it's just like my second wedding," Jack says before pushing another stumbling brawler away from him. "Here's hoping Aunt Julie's not gettin' lucky in the closet..." Gathering his wits, Jack points to the massive one-man wrecking crew. "Hey! Ugly! You're the one who started all this, right? Well, come and get some!" Jack poses intimidatingly for a second, thinks better of it, and quickly throws a beer bottle at Bjorn's head. 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arturson (30)}} has posed:''' "Actually No. It was..." and bottle to the head. The bottle shatters into pieces...but Bjorn was left unmarked. He raises an eyebrow at Jack next, as if to ask 'really?' about the bottle throwing Alright, it that kind of game. Bjorn stands straight and towering, somehow his presence just fills the room, as his peircing golden eyes burrow into Jack. It was his term to try and be intimidating "Want to throw something else?" his voice thunders. To note the less drunk one were not making a point of avoiding Bjorn....they kinda of got the idea to leave the one man wrecking crew alone! 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' Jack offers a confused stare as the bottle has seemingly no effect on the large man. "Aw, come on, really? When did they stop manufacturing bottles in the good old U-S-of-A?" Jack sighs and stretches his neck from side to side, the joint popping. "Alright, then. It's up to Jack to put the ki-bosh on these shenanigans. Alley-OOP!" he cries with a wild laugh, leaping onto a pool table with one foot and then soaring through the air at Bjorn's face. Meanwhile, the violence in the rest of the bar begins to die down as Bjorn's damage output is just too much for the drunks and regulars here...so Jack's hurrah seems especially loud and gaudy a display at this moment. 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arturson (30)}} has posed:''' Well Bjorn gotta give Jack this. Dude got some major grit. But grit won't help here! Bjorn steps to the side. He already got a fist, and a bottle to the face - does not need a foot! As Jack begins to soar past Bjorn attempt to snatch the man out of thin air by the scuff of his neck and just hold him, if possible "Be honest, did you really think that was going to work? Beleive Bjorn, this is quite embarressing" 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' "Whooooof!" rushes the air from Jack's lungs as his momentum is suddenly disrupted. "Boy..." he says, trying simultaneously to catch his breath and to free himself from Bjorn's grip. "What, are you on some brute squad or something? Ma Burton always told her boys never to take on anyone who couldn't fit a Super Bowl ring on their finger, but I just can't let that two-on-one action go down like that! So put me down and let's have a fair fight already!" Jack punctuates his demand with a futile right hook that can't even reach Bjorn's shoulder, let alone his face. 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arturson (30)}} has posed:''' Bjorn gets flat expression "Firstly" and he turns Jack while still holding him to show the apparent person he was ganging up on "He punched me first, by accident no doubt. And than" turns jack to the other guy "He hit him with a cuestick" Turns Jack to him now "Bjorn simply requested they cooled themselves off, before Samurie jack here" which is jack "Decided to ride my back like a monkey" "But if you insist" and he puts jack down on his feet "Fair warning, last fella who punch me, broke his hand" that being the first fella 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' Gritting his teeth, Jack listens quietly as Bjorn speaks. When he's done, the truck driver sighs and slicks his hair back. "Well, hell, bud, why didn't you just say so?" Jack breaks into laughter and slaps Bjorn on the shoulder. "You can't just go acceleratin' a one-on-one scuffle like that! A fella comin' outta the bathroom's gonna see things all funky and risk knockin' out the wrong man. Yeesh!" With that, Jack looks over his shoulder and signals to the bartender. "Hey! Bill! A round on me!" "Sorry, Jack," the bartender replies, pointing with a thumb at the clock over his shoulder. "Last call happened while your 'scuffle' was goin' down. You'll have to wait until tomorrow." 

:'''{{#var:30|Bjorn Arturson (30)}} has posed:''' "Bjorn like fighting." is his answer to jack "That and well you an everyone else, kept trying to hit me" quite successfully stricktly speaking... just uneffective because shenigans! Bjorn looks to the clock and frowns "Damn it!" sighs "Well, it was a fun scuffle. No one was serisouly hurt" Zooe out. People, glass and broken cues everywhere. Groans of pain and drunkness evidents. Zoom back in. "....alright, at least we did not need to call the athorities" he rubs his beard and looks to Jack "....no of any other open bars?" 
}}

95/Medium-sized Trouble in Middle-sized Newark

2017-08-22T04:23:22Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/04/21 |Location=The Black Pearl restaurant, Newark, NJ |Synopsis=Demons infest a flash mob dance party at a Chinese restaurant in Newark. |Cas..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/04/21
|Location=The Black Pearl restaurant, Newark, NJ
|Synopsis=Demons infest a flash mob dance party at a Chinese restaurant in Newark.
|Cast of Characters=117, 144, 136, 135, 95
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:117|Tatum (117)}} has posed:''' After being told the terrible news that she is quite likely stuck in this 'worldline', Tatum's mood became decidedly morose and perhaps a bit self-destructive. With nothing to her name to really call her own, the goth with the borrowed, very non-goth clothes leaves Westchester and the safety of the X-Mansion and starts to walk. And walk. And walk. Finally, tired and hungry and without a penny to her name, Tate decides to use the one thing she has to get a meal. Her looks. Heading into a bar, she goes to the bathroom, does her best to make her look presentable and then sits at the bar with a flirtatious smile at anyone who looks her way. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' Once in a blue moon, the hottest DJ in the eastern time zone sets up a top-secret invite-only dance party at a location only transmitted once via text from a burner. Dance battles, fashion model walk-offs, and impromptu chef challenges are all so common that it's a guarantee at least half a dozen of each will happen before the night's young. Only the coolest of trend-setters get the invite. Others only wish they could be in the right circles to stay informed. Tonight, a super grimy dive bar with a neon sign outside advertising BLACK PEARL is the chosen place. Or, at least, that's what the text said. Cue a throng of haut-couture and over-privileged club-hoppers rolling up to a bar whose smell is noticeable outside. They look...concerned. And pushing his way through this crowd is a man in a tank top and a trucker hat. "...I'm tellin' ya, Missy, this place has /the/ best noodles in the northeast." He looks up at the sign. "Or maybe it was the cleanest shot glasses. Either way, it's a win, right?" The woman this man was talking to gives him a snide look and disappears into the crowd looking for a chic party, while the trucker heads on inside. "Hey!" he calls out cheerfully to no one in particular. "Look who's back for another round!" 

:'''{{#var:136|Artemis (136)}} has posed:''' Artemis is in the bar, because it is a bar. Social media is not big with the Amazons yet. She settles to the counter, "Draft, biggest glass." She says before she glances around to get a feel for the room. A neck pop that sets that long red mane in motion. 

:'''{{#var:135|Lillian Foster (135)}} has posed:'''     Why is Lillian in a shoddy bathroom bar stall in the middle of a Newark neighborhood at night? Because reasons. Certainly, it couldn't have anything to do with the pair of wallets she casually tosses into the trash - zealously rubbed of fingerprints - before stepping out into Black Pearl proper. Far from the standard eclectic clientele, she wears a comfy yet oversized pullover gray hoodie and a pair of faded old jeans. Nobody strictly invited her to the grimy dive bar, but nobody technically saw her enter anyway.     Traveling to the bar and hopping onto a seat, she waves down the bartender and asks for a beer with a tight roll of cash. Upon sighting a blue-eyed brunette, she offers an idle smirk and tucks her hands into the roomy pockets of her sweater to await her drink. Then she hears the commotion outside, and feels compelled to casually glance back.     Hazel eyes peek past the obstruction of her ash brown locks, judging the rowdy newcomer in a few short moments, and clearly seeming unimpressed. In a low murmur, she answers, "the resident alcoholic, obviously." 

:'''{{#var:117|Tatum (117)}} has posed:''' Drinking only a glass of water with ice and lime for now, hoping she can pass it off as a gin and tonic, Tatum smiles at the woman beside her in the frumpy sweater. She lets her icy blue eyes follow the blonde's over to the man that enters the bar and chuckles softly. "Would seem that way, wouldn't it?" Her shoulders lift and fall in a casual shrug as she looks over the woman beside her, wondering if this one will be her target. The resident alcoholic would likely be an easier mark, but he's also over 30. Eww much? 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' The assorted club kids begin to slowly trickle in, looking with blatant disdain at the decor. "Is this really the place?" many ask in nigh-identical words and tones. "Ugh" is just as common an expression. However, soon the bar is crammed full, but somehow the throng has managed to keep space for someone to set up a DJ booth in the corner. Throughout all of this, the bartender looks unfazed and offers only beer to anyone who looks like they're remotely connected to these shenanigans. As the crowd presses in, Jack Burton finds himself squeezing up against the bar, prying his way to get an elbow on the bartop between two women. "'Scuse me, ladies," the man says, removing his trucker cap and setting it on the bar. "Guess it's yer lucky day, 'cuz it looks like we're gonna be up-close and personal while these kids shake their booties." There's continued murmuring from the 'in' crowd: "Who's the DJ tonight?" "Supposed to be freakin' awesome." "Who, though?" "Oh, uh. I think it was--'The Magnanimous DLP.'" "No shit?!" As if on cue, the DJ finishes his setup and launches into the initial song, fading in some electronic dance music spliced with Ornette Coleman and a Gregorian chant undertone. At the sound, Jack winces. "You'd think they could just play somethin'...you know, good." 

:'''{{#var:136|Artemis (136)}} has posed:''' The large pitcher dropped before her, Artemis grabs it up with her right hand and slaps down a twenty with a pop that puts a shake to the counter. Her gaze briefly holds on Jack, then she lifts the pitcher, amber liquid tilting as she starts to drink. Then Jack is closer, elbow close nearly. The pitcher comes down and Artemis wipes the back of her hand on her mouth. "Hi.. Lucky me." The beer still two-thirds, she tucks in closer in on her body. "What is this? Not enough room in this city?" 

:'''{{#var:135|Lillian Foster (135)}} has posed:'''     "Should we make bets for how long he'll manage to keep on his feet?" Lillian grins wryly, whispering towards Tatum as she eyes the loud drunkard. Leaning her back against the edge of the bar, she continues to unabashedly observe Jack, like watching a movie. Or an anticipated human train wreck. In any case, that smirk remains. Hazel eyes only briefly glance aside to spot the giantess, and then what could only be considered malevolence crosses her fair features. "Fifty says he'll either run to the men's room or kiss the floor in half an hour's time."     Shifting aside with only minor annoyance, she comments, "just the kids?" A sigh, "and here I was, expecting to see a show...I guess you're a lighter weight than I pegged you for." As the EDM commences, she leans over to call out at Jack's ear, "and what would you call 'good' music?" 

:'''{{#var:117|Tatum (117)}} has posed:''' Tate laughs softly, looking over the trucker. "My guess he tries to hit on one of these ravers, proving he ain't as old as he looks and still one of the 'in' crowd," she jokes. She starts to lean in closer, ready to flirt a little cause damn if she isn't hungry, when the 'resident alcoholic' goes and elbows his way between her and her potential mark for food and booze. Tatum gives the man a "sweet" smile. You know the one. The kind that says 'You ass' while still being friendly enough to keep her doors open and use him as a mark later. She looks over to the blonde with an apologetic raise of her shoulders and then looks away so neither of the two see just how upset she is. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' For a moment, staring at Artemis, Jack shows an expression of awe--which quickly turns to attraction--and then finally to defiance. "Yer not the only one who can down a pitcher, lady!" He fishes out his own bill for a drink and prepares to chug it. It's right then that a graphic design graduate student bumps into the trucker, and he spills the pitcher all over his tank top. Jack sets the pitcher down angrily and looks over his shoulder at the culprit, who's long since mingled elsewhere. He sighs and shakes his head, catching Lillian's gaze in his direction. "What?!" Jack shouts against the music back to Lillian. "You want some /mood/ music?" The DJ keeps up the weird chanting undertone melody and swaps the EDM for a Wu-Tang remix set to Fugazi interlaced with Captain Beefheart. "This is SO next season's theme song!" a particularly cheerful dancer exclaims. Another young man of the club crowd approaches Tatum. "Hey there. You interested in /eternal/ prosperity?" he asks with a wide grin. 

:'''{{#var:136|Artemis (136)}} has posed:''' Artemis watches glances at some of the others, sweeping her hair around her waist to pile it at her lap. The length is a sign of pride, not a portable rug. Jack challenges her about the pitcher and Art looks at him, "This is a thing you do.. Drink the most beer? That is silly." But, the dismissive comment spoken, the pitcher is hefted again. More, a tiny bit spilling. Her eyes water and she blinks at the hefty carbonation and alcohol in take. Yes, the Amazon thinks this is a ridiculous competition, but she doesn't plan to lose either. 

:'''{{#var:135|Lillian Foster (135)}} has posed:'''     Chuckling softly at Tate's remark, Lillian quickly quiets herself down by the time said trucker butts his way towards the bar. She shares a smirk and a small eye-roll with the dark-haired woman, like they should have expected something like this to happen. While viewing Jack's antics, she does her best to dodge out of the way of the runaway pitcher, but sitting so close to its owner apparently means she's in the splash zone. With a gasp, she shoots up from her seat, steals her finally arriving mug, and sits with Tatum between them to act as Trouble Buffer. "Ugh." She looks to the bar tender and shouts, "can I get some paper towels? Please?"     By now, she hears the curious choice in music, blinking in surprise, "that's actually...not half bad." In obvious appreciation, she witnesses Artemis downing that ginormous pitcher and lets out a fascinated woot, "I'd drown under that much booze!" 

:'''{{#var:117|Tatum (117)}} has posed:''' Okay, so the cute blonde is a no go.... or? Maybe not as she moves over to Tate's other side. Her stomach growls. She's not eaten all day. But she has to be patient. If she tries to work too fast, she'll scare the woman away. Shifting in her seat so she can face the woman, she offers a hand. "Tatum," she offers. She smiles, nodding at the taste in the music. "A little retro, but it's okay. Sorta 2015ish, ain't it?" She's going to say more when she is offered /eternal/ prosperity. Looking the young man up and down, she tries to figure out just what he means. She is neither in her world or her time. Is this an offer to save her soul? Some sort of drug? "Well, eternity is a long time, sweetness. Perhaps you should tell me more?" 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' The young man standing in front of Tatum continues grinning. "Oh, you know. Life without hunger. Pain. Just an eternity of merriment." His eyes wide, Jack stares at Artemis once more. "Lady, I don't know what you mighta thought we were competin' for, but let me just tell you: my heart...you've won it." He clasps a hand over his chest. "But all the same, I'd hate for anyone to think I didn't give it my all. So here we go--" Jack lifts his pitcher again and, once more, is jostled by a random crowd member, spilling the beer on his stomach and pants--and a bit more on Lillian, too. "Okay, now that just /does it/," he hisses through gritted teeth and spins around to crack the teenager in the nose with a balled fist. As soon as that contact is made--and the punched teen drops like a rock to the ground--the entire makeshift dance floor stops, as does the music. The clubbers look to Jack and then turn to the DJ. The Magnanimous DLP stands tall. He's apparently an old, pale Chinese man in a traditional robe and a set of high-tech headphones around his neck. The man's eyes grow even wider than Jack's had. "Jack. F%#$ing. Burton," the man hisses. In response, Jack swallows a lump in his throat. "David Lo Pan," he mumbles. "Uh...this is not good." The man near Tatum blinks, and his eyes become gold and slitted like a cat's. "Welcome to the Hell of Merciless Dance Jubilation," he says as his mouth grows twice as wide and his teeth elongate into thin, razor-sharp fangs. The other club-goers transform into equally grotesque creatures. 

:'''{{#var:136|Artemis (136)}} has posed:''' Artemis is wondering if Lillian is speaking prophesy. She lowers it, about a fifth of it still there. Free hand moving to her stomach, she tries to keep her mouth closed. That means the beer belch burns her nose, but the rumble is less. Artemis taps the mug after shaking her head. "There. Beat that." Her face grimacing, brows lifting as she blinks. Then.. They are here. Artemis drags her palm over her face to try to rub off the affect. The pitcher, not yet empty is flung hard at the 'big mouth' next to Tatum. "Fight!" 

:'''{{#var:135|Lillian Foster (135)}} has posed:'''     Smiling pleasantly for what seems the first time that night, Lillian sets her drink down in safer territory and shakes the offered hand. "Lillian." Chuckling once more, she notes with a shrug, "whichever year, I guess we can give him some credit for his taste in music. At the least." Finally noticing the young solicitor, she smirks and leans to whisper, "I wouldn't encourage him. He'll probably try handing you his cult book next." Unfortunately, she was failing to remain vigilant, and even Tatum couldn't entirely shield her from Jack's spilled beer. Which says nothing for what may have landed on poor Tatum. Wringing her hands angrily, she glares the drunkard's way, "seriously?!"     Her position provides the perfect vantage point to see a teenager eat dirt - or in this instance, fall onto hard ground long overdue for a cleaning. That's soon the least of her surprises, as almost every body she can see starts shedding their human skin like some horror flick. "Well, shit." 

:'''{{#var:117|Tatum (117)}} has posed:''' Tate laughs softly to Lillian as she whispers about the guy offering eternal anything. She nods and actually feels kind of bad that she is only using this woman to get fed or drunk or both. she feels the beer sloshing onto her back and starts to get angry. Or is it hangry at this stage. Glancing at the teen getting his teeth knocked in, she shakes her head and is about to lean in to say something to Lillian when the guy with the offer of ?? soul saving drugs, maybe? starts to change. "Seriously? It's like I can't get away from this shit!" She says to the ceiling. With a clenched jaw, she hops off the stool. "Let's see what you assholes are made of, shall we?" she says through gritted teeth, a part of her brain laughing at her because apparently she has a catchphrase, as she fills the bar with her nullification field. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' The big-mouthed figure near Tatum opens its maw as if to bite her, but the space is quickly filled by a thrown pitcher. It stumbles backward and slams its head against a column, its eyes glassy. The 'Magnanimous DLP' raises his arms out before himself, and his fingers seem to stretch out across the room. They gather up a quarter of the demonic dancers' forms, who morph into more extended bony digits, their faces the painted fingernails. "This is the last time you annoy me!" David Lo Pan cries in a high-pitched voice. He points one of his seventeen left index fingers at Jack Burton, while his other hand makes an arcane ward of some kind. The limbs of the dizzy big-mouthed demon fall off its body with audible 'pop' sounds, and its torso extends into that of a long, orange snake or worm. "Guess the dance is over, huh, boss?" it says in a sing-song voice. "Just eat them already, you clod," Lo Pan replies in an annoyed tone. The snake demon responds by lunging at Tatum--only to dissipate entirely as it gets within her expanding field. Lo Pan curses in an unidentifiable language. The remainder of the grotesque demons launch themselves at the human customers remaining in the venue. For his part, Jack leaps onto the bartop, fists at the ready. Unfortunately, one of his feet slips in the beer puddle his chugging attempt made, and he disappears, head first, on the other side of the bar. 

:'''{{#var:136|Artemis (136)}} has posed:''' Demons, that's just great.. Artemis rises from her seat in a fluid motion, leaning in the direction of a coming attack to duck under a swipe. Her knee follows through to hit the bread box. 

:'''{{#var:135|Lillian Foster (135)}} has posed:'''     Lillian watches in abject surprise as everyone seems to prepare for battle. Meanwhile, she's already sneaking towards the back exit when monsters charge towards her little section of the bar. Of course, the so-called hero climbs up onto the bar, slips in a puddle, and lands in a heap. "Oh, for the love of..." Stopped by a horrific creature, she kicks it in the most likely place to do the most damage, then spins a 180 for a different route to freedom. 

:'''{{#var:117|Tatum (117)}} has posed:''' "All I want! Is one goddamned day! That doesn't turn to shit!" yells Tate, letting her anger fuel her power. She normally hates forcing her power on others, feels it is an intrusion of privacy, but she's mad enough to really not care. She kicks the approaching demons, looking for something to use as a weapon. "Get yerself to the bathroom," she yells out to Lillian, backing that way herself to protect the blonde's retreat. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' "Everybody's kung fu fighting," Jack mutters from behind the bar. "And one o' them must've sucker-punched me, fast as lightning. Well..." he adds, "if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that it's always all in the reflexes." With that, Jack launches himself over the bartop and promptly tackles a demon with a catfish head and limbs whose joints seem to bend backwards. "Baby, you're the ugliest chick I've seen in here in /minutes/!" he shouts. Everywhere else throughout the bar, the demons assault the living patrons. One attacks Artemis with its solar plexus. It groans in pain. Another demon flings itself at the Amazon behind its injured ally. Another demon transforms into a giant eyeball that opens like a Pac-Man mouth full of teeth as large as Bowie knives. It tries to chomp on Lillian's delicious human flesh! Yet another grows four pairs of bat wings and leaps up, ready to soar directly at Tatum's head. Before it can make contact, however, it disintegrates into nothingness. In the back corner, David Lo Pan throws his headphones on the ground in frustration. "This /cannot/ be happening!" he laments. 

:'''{{#var:136|Artemis (136)}} has posed:''' Artemis quickly drifts into a swirling dervish style of battle. Roundhouse kicks with that Amazonian power to drive them. Blocks snap up, then the elbow sweeps to follow through. The movement though draws her right into then thick of it. A frog faced demon lashes a blistered and slimy tongue out to wrap her leg. Artemis goes down into a chair, but she rips off the chair leg to impale the sticky appendage to the floor. 

:'''{{#var:135|Lillian Foster (135)}} has posed:'''     Glancing to and fro in a desperate attempt to look for openings, Lillian hears the brunette shout a suggestion. With few other options at hand, she curses under her breath and hurriedly flees to the bathroom. She's stopped short by none other than a person-sized fanged eyeball, losing her footing in the ambush and crashing backwards to the ground. Screaming her pain, confusion, and dismay, she scrabbles wildly backwards. Fingers find a large shard of glass, and she lifts the item to level threateningly between them. "Stay back! I know how to use this!" 

:'''{{#var:117|Tatum (117)}} has posed:''' Tatum seems for her part to be safe from the demons. The magic that is keeping them on this plane of existence can't get through her bubble. She reaches out a hand to the floating eyeball to spread her field to keep the blonde safe before jumping onto the pool table. Grabbing billiard balls, Tatum looks to the one that seems to be controlling the demons. David Lo Pan? The name means nothing for her other then the fact that she now has a target for her anger. Starting with the 8-ball, the girl in the leather jacket, Doc Martens, cargo pants and plain white t, start to huck the balls at the ancient oriental man. "All I wanted! Was to get drunk! You dumb! Fucking! Jerk!!" Each word causes her field to grow, pushing it larger and larger, trying to fill the whole bar, to remove the magical tether these things have here. To send them back home. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' The giant eyeball pops like a microwaved grape, although whatever gross demon juices were inside it fizzle out of existence once making contact with Tatum's negation field. Glancing back and forth between that sight and Artemis' makeshift staking, Jack Burton elbows the demon beneath him and laughs. "Double /deuce/ that is some hot stuff!" He looks down at the creature below him, whose face resembles that of a four-eyed and skinned owl. "I mean, for a weird demon fight, you understand." Jack punctuates his comment with a kick to the demon's groin. David Lo Pan, meanwhile, attempts to shield his own groin and face from the onslaught of Tatum's projectiles. "Come on! I just wanted limitless power!" he shouts from behind his arm. "Don't blame a guy for trying!" As Lo Pan is backed further and further into his corner, he begins to shrink in size--slowly but steadily. "No! Not yet! I'm not ready! Give me more time!" he calls, seemingly to no one in particular--or, at least, to no one visible. 

:'''{{#var:95|Hank (95)}} has posed:''' Ever since Tatum disappeared from the School, leaving only a note behind, Doctor Henry Hank McCoy (aka The Beast) has been FRANTIC with worry.  Fueled by his guilt of informing here there was no way to get her home to her own dimension, and her /own/ Hank McCoy, the blue furred scientist feels responsible for any actions she now contemplates, and any dangers she could now face wandering the world without a valid identity in any sense of the word. Because despite similarities, this world is NOT hers and she doesnt know what those differences may be. If Only he would have kept his mouth shut. Using school surveillance footage he was able to figure out when she left and in what direction, hacking every camera along her route to try and follow her and even though in this day and age there are LOTS of cameras everywhere, its not a perfect solution.  So grabbing his Bag of Holding and an image inducer to disguise his rather famous (or infamous) form he ran out to try and follow her. Hours later, cameras and his heightened sense of scent has led him to some of the worst parts of Newark. The rather... fragrant bouquet of newark has done a lot to diminish her trail and a lot of cameras have been knocked out.  Of course, he had a back up plan for just this occasion, whipping out his own smartphone.. One of his own design., and /almost/ a twin of Tatum's.  Sure, hers may not be connecting to the local phone networks since it does come from a slightly different dimension but If /her/ Hank provided her with one of his phones, and if her Hank is even HALF as smart as /He/ his (and why shouldn't he be, since Hank McCoy is /ALWAYS/ a genius no matter WHERE he is) then Alt-hant should have added.... And there it is..  A medium ranged backup signal, meant to activate when the phone networks arent available. On the frequency of 456mhz.. Because while phone companies between dimensions may have different encryption schemes, a Hank worth his salt would base the frequency of his own beacons on a number from something he loved.  And it seems alt-Hank and This-hank both loved the same sci-if tv show. He leaps forward, moving just like The Beast should with his cross of an apes lope and a felines run, though still looking like just a man (if a large one). The people will sometimes stop and stare as he passes them, and he has no witty repartee to offer at this time as he is led to the doors of a rather dirty grungy bar.  From the sound inside he deducts there is TROUBLE and he kicks down the door with a large foot and then just STANDS there, eyes wide. Oh my stars and garters.... 

:'''{{#var:136|Artemis (136)}} has posed:''' The red hair flashes around in snaps as Artemis regains her footing and dance. One demon, whose claim to the title seems to be that his ears grew to the size of Dumb-bo's and his nose shrank to the size of Barbie's tries to tackle her. Artemis dodges, then pushes him on past. She grabs the next by the arm, who oddly, just looks exactly like Peewee Herman, and starts swinging him as a weapon to pound others. 

:'''{{#var:135|Lillian Foster (135)}} has posed:'''     Thank goodness for negation fields, or else Lillian would not have enjoyed being nearby while that eyeball popped. As it is, she's just glad to see it go, features paling in revulsion. Releasing the now bloody shard of glass, she unsteadily rises to her feet and half-stumbles closer to Tatum, finally noticing the absence of Nightmare Monster in a safe zone around the brunette. Quite suddenly, the door crashes open, revealing another arrival on this chaotic dive bar battlefield. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she calls up to her savior, "Tatum! They've got backup!...probably." 

:'''{{#var:117|Tatum (117)}} has posed:''' Tatum is in full on pissed off goth mode, still hucking billiard balls at the shrinking DJ. "Oh! I'm sorry! You only want infinite power? Well, I wanna go home! Neither of us is getting what we want, sunshine! So QQ some more!" As she yells, Tatum hops of the pool table and starts to storm up to one that ruined her attempt to lose herself in Newark and hopefully booze and meaningless sex. And then she does something very un-X-men like of her. She lifts her combat booted foot and stomps down on the tiny ancient asian sorceror, planning on squishing him like a bug. Hearing that the demons have backup, Tate turns and flings her last billiard ball at whoever came in the door, realizing too late that it's Hank! 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' As the blue-furred Beast bursts in the front door, David Lo Pan suddenly stands tall and confident, his shrinking halted. "Yes--I am saved! Fight with me, Master of the Hell of Nostril-Torturing Odors! I would never fail to recognize you!" With that, Lo Pan points his pinkies at Jack Burton and attempts to zap him with bursts of green flaming energy. Jack manages to roll out of the way, but the demon beneath him isn't so lucky, and it explodes in a specatular mess of demon viscera. The other demons look at Lo Pan, and then the Beast, and then one another. They seem to come to some unspoken consensus and throw themselves back into the fight. Barbed tentacles flail about. An undulating jellyfish flops forcefully against a jukebox. An armadillo-like thing rolls itself into a Mobius strip. 

:'''{{#var:95|Hank (95)}} has posed:''' Well /this/ isn't something one sees any day.. And that is saying something when one is a founding member of The X-Men. First there is the Mandarin wannabe who may or may not be the leader of these.. creature...? Whom Beast has NO idea who they are though they are. His accute eyes flash around the scene, quickly trying to take everything in, to make some sense of everything.. Wait, there's Tatum.. and some other women.. and a guy who looks like an older and less reputable version whathisname from hat disney movie.. The Computer that Wore Sneakers. Hank /loved that movie/... "Wait.. whaaaaaat?" Hank cries as his brain catches up, staring at the green ligtening welding shrinking asian man. "Master of the... WHAT DID YOu CALL ME?" What the hell is the guy talking about.. Hank looks down and blinks as he realizes, somehow, his image inducer has shut off and he is standing there looking like a blue cat-simian in oxford tweed. He then growls. "I'll have you know, /Good Sir/ that I am NOT a malodorous.. whatever the hell you think I am. Just who do you think you... YIPES!" He jumps up, grasping the door frame and his large articulate foot grabs the tosses Billiard ball before it his him in a VERY uncomfortable place. "Hey! Watch it!" he says, then notes that the creatures /aren't attacking him... and that his fur seems to be rising in his nape, an energy he has felt before. "Magic? I /HATE/ MAGIC!" he excliams and tosses the cue ball at the demons who AREN'T attacking him... And being the physics wiz he is, it's like a combo shot. Head to head to head! "THREE BANKS! CORNER POCKET!" 

:'''{{#var:136|Artemis (136)}} has posed:''' In short order, the Hermann flail is no more, so Artemis is back to kicks and punches. "MISTRESS!" The brawling Amazon yells as she kicks her latest opponent in the throat. Her left hand reaches up as she focuses on Lo Pan's new apparent ally. A huge, anime huge, battle-axeâ smashes through a window and spins through the air to Artemis' raised hand. Hacks, slashes, and slices meet abominable forms to slice them. The axe spins like a helicopter blade in a blur of motion. Gore splatters the walls and well most of everything outside of Tatum's shield. Jack seems to be doing decent, so she aims at getting to Lillian. 

:'''{{#var:135|Lillian Foster (135)}} has posed:'''     Abruptly, Lillian's half a slaughterhouse away from her only true monster shield, and said cousins of Krumm no longer have a billiard ball thrower slowing their progress. Quickly, she races in the general direction of the bathroom. However, you'd have to bodily drag her away if you wanted to keep her from watching this crazy scene. Thus, the instant she's no longer pursued, she peeks around the corner to observe. And boy, what a spectacle. Thankfully, aside from a pitcher or two of spilled beer and an obliviously bleeding hand, she's managed to avoid the lion's share of carnage debris. 

:'''{{#var:117|Tatum (117)}} has posed:''' Tatum winces as the ball seems to be heading for Hank's smaller head. She exhales with relief, not having realized that she was holding her breath until she let it go. "Sorry Babe! I'm better with guns!" Guns, something she had been trying not to use while with the X-men; they sorta hate that whole lethal force thing. /Okay, so explain Logan./ her brain says. Knowing that Hank is safe, and actually kind of happy to see him again, Tate instead turns her head to Lo Pan. "What did you call him?!" she says, clearly as offended by the mistake as Hank is himself. With a boot to his jujubes, Tate then switches to attacking Lo Pan's pressure points with Xena like precision. "That is my boyfriend, you magic weilding shit!" she tells him. The fact that Lo Pan was able to cast his magic within her field attests to just how strong his magick arts are. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' The demons already weren't doing great against the combined forces of the Black Pearl's customer base this evening. And, even with Lo Pan's momentary rally, it's evident that the monstrous creatures attempting to devour the humans and mutants just aren't going to do so. Maybe it's the decapitations that Artemis is dishing out. Maybe it's Lillian's tactical withdrawal. Maybe it's Jack's ludicrous luck. Maybe it's Tatum's negation field. Maybe it's Beast's sudden appearance. Maybe it's Maybelline. Whatever the case...the demons begin to dissolve into hissing puddles and 'poof' into clouds of dust. Lo Pan begins to shrink once more, and he throws his hands up in anger. "Seriously?! This is the thanks I get for trying to bring the Many Hells back to Earth? For a Master of the Hell of Nostril-Torturing Odors, you're a real jerk! And you--" he adds, looking to Jack Burton with a sneer, "--I have not forgotten the many indignities you have caused me. You are not safe. Nor your girlfriends." Then, Lo Pan sweeps an arm across the space in front of his body, and he disappears in a split-second burst of bright green flame that gives off an intense heat. After that, the bar's (mostly) empty, and definitely more quiet. From the floor, Jack rolls onto one elbow. He looks around and grins. "Hear that, ladies? Sounds like /someone/ knows a match made in heaven when he sees one. Or maybe several matches." 

:'''{{#var:136|Artemis (136)}} has posed:''' Artemis aims to cut deep into her next opponent with a high slice down, only this one is vapor before she hits. The blade cuts into the floor and forces Artemis to wiggle it out of the bar floor. "Oh.. Victory!" Well, the axe is hefted to her shoulder, "Anyone need medical aid?" She is already scanning the remaining patrons to check for human casualties. 

:'''{{#var:95|Hank (95)}} has posed:''' Beast isn't one to just sit around, or in his case /hang/ around. He's Just been slandered, apparently being copared to some chinese style of demonic entity from hell (and the chinese have a lot of hells). He's almost had his family jewels replaced with a cue ball thrown by the girlfriend of his alternate-dimension (but not-possibly as good looking) double, and at this point she seems to mistaking him (probably drunkenly) once more for Alt-Hank. he swings off the doorframe, flips opver the other women, grabs a hanging light above the pool table, twirls around a few times and drops down BESIDE Tatum as the demon things start to dissolve and Lo_pan fistshakes and screams. "I am not a Master of the Hell of Nostril-Torturing Odors JERK! I am a SCIENTIST. I am a MUTANT. I am /BEAUTIFUL/, not STINKY! And YOU, YOU C-LIST UNDERPOWERED FU-MAN-CHU RIP-OFF WITh DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR? YOUR FASHION SENSE SUCKS and your KUNG-FU IS WEAK!!" he roars at the tiny man as he dissapears. 

:'''{{#var:135|Lillian Foster (135)}} has posed:'''     Breathing out a heavy sigh of relief, Lillian first inches and then bravely strides from her safe place around the corner. She tries her best to tip-toe beyond the hissing puddles and perplexing dust, expression full of disgust. Rolling her eyes at Jack's quip, she retorts, "I told you he'd kiss the floor in less than half an hour. So who's paying up?" Hazel eyes dart around the bar, "and best be quick about it. I don't want to be here when the roof inevitably falls in. Or the cops have awkward questions." A brief pause, and then she glances between Tatum and Artemis to admit, "you two were amazing, by the way." Blood continues to idly drip from her right hand, staining what can still be seen of the flooring.     When Hank flips an arc above her, already drunk on adrenaline and fear, she reacts on instinct. With a surprised shout, she swings a fist at the furry blur. 

:'''{{#var:117|Tatum (117)}} has posed:''' And she still hasn't had a damn drink! So much for trying to lose herself in drunken debauchery to forget her troubles. She flips the departing form of the itty bitty Lo Pan the bird, pulling away from the green flames. With a huff of an exhale, the jet haired woman turns to the room. "You wish, Jack Burton," she tells the neighborhood drunk before turning to Lillian. Tate can't help but laugh. "I hate to tell ya, but I'm stone cold broke, beautiful. But I'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today?" She shrugs a single shoulder sheepishly. When he lands in front of her, her field still shrinking down, Hank reverts to his very human looking self. She looks up at him and shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I just... I didn't know what to do. I ... I don't know what to do anymore." She leans in and slips her arms about him, looking to the others. "You were pretty awesome," she tells Artemis. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' From his spot on the floor, Jack frowns dejectedly. "Well, I guess nobody here's gonna be the next ex-Mrs. Burton, then." He slowly pushes himself to his feet. "Don't worry. Ol' Jack knows when to take a hint...even if the lady of my dreams has already shown me she exists." Jack stomps to the bar. "Where's my hat?" he asks, reaching blindly over the bar. When he pulls his hand back, he's holding an absolutely disgusting bar rag. "That hat sucked anyway," Jack sighs, dropping the rag. 

:'''{{#var:95|Hank (95)}} has posed:''' Okay.. sooooo.. That happened. Aaaaand it's over with. Hank is still confused at what just was going on that he barely notices that he has shrunk somewhat (he's still a huge guy, with rather large bare feet an hands just not QUITE as big as usual. The size he was BORN with. She can negate abiliies, but not nature.) It's when his glasses, specially shaped to fit his usual snout, slips down the now furless nose taht he realizes he is relatively depowered.. He looks at everyone in turn, slowly, then at taum and raises a less shaggy than usual brow. "Don't be sorry, Ms O'Neal. You didn't do anything wrong.." he assures her, gently, then rests his large hand on her shoulder and looks to Artemis. "I'm fine.. but of anyone else /does/ require medical attention, then.. well.. I /am/ a doctor.." he says. Then he looks to Jack. Smiling, sorta rude, mysogynistic, arrogant Jack who is smiling WAY toomuch for what just occured. "Sir, are you alright? Or are you just an idiot?" he asks slowly. Of course, the answer he is waiting for is not the expected one. He is expecting jack to say something.. Instead Lillian's fist answers by flying up from beneath the dge of the table and sinking into his groin. Hank's eyes go REAL big.. and he slowly falls to his knees, cupping the offended area with his hands. "Oh Balls.." he wheezes. 

:'''{{#var:136|Artemis (136)}} has posed:''' Artemis smirks in Jack's direction, sheathing that massive weapon on her back. Her focus moving back to Lillian and Tatum and the big guy, "Thank you." The Amazon offers to both and suddenly seems a tiny bit less smooth than her fighting style, "I am Artemis, of the Amazons. You both did very well." Her voice picking up as she calls to Jack. "You preformed well, Jack.. But I killed my last husband. You would not enjoy being the next ex-Husband of Artemis." The green eyes focus on Lillian's hand, that is right before it racks Henry in the now new tonsils. A hand is offered the large man to aid him in standing, but it is Lil that gets the sympathy. "You are hurt, that needs to be cleaned and wrapped, perhaps sewn up." 

:'''{{#var:135|Lillian Foster (135)}} has posed:'''     When she realizes what she's done, Lillian's hazel eyes widen and she lets out a gasp. "Oh! Sorry! Ummm..." She looks around uncertainly, trying to figure out what exactly to do. A shake of her head, "I'm so sorry!" A pause, "do...do you need ice?" She regards Tatum with an apologetic wince and a look that asks for help. Waving her hand distractedly, she replies, "-I'm- the one that owes -you-. So long as you forget anything to do with payment, I'll buy you all the hamburgers you could ever want." Shaking her head again, she repeats, "seriously though, I didn't mean to. There were so many monsters, and then him, and then...sorry." Looking sheepish, she murmurs an awkward sort of introduction, "Lillian." Then she blinks, bobbing her head in confusion at Artemis' concern, "what? Oh. Huh. When did that..." She commences staring at her cut palm, pursing her lips worriedly. 

:'''{{#var:117|Tatum (117)}} has posed:''' Lillian's fist nails Beast in her second favourite part of her boyfriend, or well this reality's version of her boyfriend. She lets out a wince and a bites her lip. "Lillian! Geeze if you're that pissed I'm shirking on the bet, then I'll pay! I'll pay!" She looks to Hank, doing her best to hold him up in spite of their vast difference in body size. "Hank? Baby? You okay?" She helps Hank to a sitting position, then runs to grab him some ice. Once the ice is delivered, she turns to Lillian. "Let's look at that hand. Seems we have a couple options for first aid. Sadly, the actual doctor is a little... " She glances to Hank to check on him again before returning her attention to Lillian. "Indesposed." 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' "Lady," Jack says in reply to Artemis, smoothing his hair back over his head, "Jack Burton is nobody's husband. What he /is/ is a one-man love machine. But, sadly, for the moment I've got to meet my mistress, the open roa--" At that moment, Beast asks if he's an idiot. Jack spins around in response, looking at eye level for the source of the insult. Unbeknownst to him, Beast is down below, doubled over in pain. "Yeah, that's what I thought," Jack says to the empty air. Holding his head undeservedly high, Jack strides out into the night air toward a truck cab parked across the street. 

:'''{{#var:95|Hank (95)}} has posed:''' Beast slowly holds a hand up at Lillians attenion, shaking his head and not saying anything.. Not TRUSTING himself to say saything besides a squeaky gasp until the pain recedes a little. And he says nothing to jack as the guy saunters off, all gung-ho and full of himself. Jerk. Finally he turns his head to tatum and allows her to help him sit. "I will.. be fine.." he says between laboured breathes. "And I.. am not.. Indespeosed. Just.. sore.." he wheezes. "And there.. better be.. some Bourbon.. with that ice.." To Artemis he offers a nod f greetings, trying to smile. "Well met.. Artemis of the Amazons.. and please help the young lady.. with her hand.. I have.. bandages in my bag.." 

:'''{{#var:136|Artemis (136)}} has posed:''' Artemis watches the trucker leave the pub, wreck that the place is at the moment. "Right." She offers to McCoy. Then she heads over to the bar, grabbing two bottles from behind and slapping a golden coin on the counter. As she starts back, she carries vodka and bourbon bottles. Bourbon to Tatum for Beast. The vodka she turns up a big swig from the bottle, then prepares to use it as an antiseptic. "This will.. Burn, but clear the wound. You can drink some to reduce the burn on your hand." Her free hand offered palm up to Lillian. 

:'''{{#var:135|Lillian Foster (135)}} has posed:'''     Laughing her embarrassment, Lillian reassures, "no, don't pay me! I'm so sorry..." With another wince, she looks to Hank, obviously worried she may have seriously hurt him. Running to help Tatum find the ice, she mumbles upon return, "it's really not as bad as it looks..." Nevertheless, she lifts her right hand to reveal her palm. While probably not deep enough to require stitches, it's still far from a negligible injury. Face warming at Tatum's reminder of Hank's predicament, she murmurs, "right...sorry." Too busy with worry, she barely notes Jack's departure.     Gritting her teeth against the inevitable pain of alcohol on an open wound, she somehow manages to pull through until her hand has been well bandaged up. With that complete and the possible sound of sirens on the way, she bids her farewells - and extra apologies - and soon scoots out. 

:'''{{#var:117|Tatum (117)}} has posed:''' Taking the bottle of bourbon offered from the amazon, looking her over more carefully now. "Artemis. Named after the goddess? Or should I be... you know... offering sacrifices in thanks?" She looks to the bottle in her hand. She was so intent on getting drunk and forgetting her troubles and yet now, now that she has it in her hand she finds that she doesn't actually want it. She hands the bottle to Hank. "We need to talk later," she tells him. "Don't worry about him," she tells Lillian. "I promise I'll kiss it better later," she says with a smirk. 
}}

217/Ghost Truckers on the Storm

2017-08-22T04:19:13Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/04/30 |Location=NYC and the open road |Synopsis=Jack Burton gets help from the Ghostbusters to deal with a humdinger of a spectre haunting the..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/04/30
|Location=NYC and the open road
|Synopsis=Jack Burton gets help from the Ghostbusters to deal with a humdinger of a spectre haunting the highway.
|Cast of Characters=144, 156, 159
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' NOW A trailer truck races down the empty highway during a dark and cloudy night on the verge of a storm. Just enough moonlight is cast down to illuminate the cartoon pig painted on the side of the cab. "Any mile marker now, I'm sure of it!" Jack Burton calls out on his CB radio. His knuckles are white as bone as he tries to keep the truck straight over this span of poorly maintained asphalt, the vehicle pushing 80 MPH. "It's just like ol' Jack told you back at the firehouse..." NOT ALL THAT LONG AGO A mulleted man in a tank top bursts into the Ghostbusters HQ. "You gotta help me!" he cries, gasping for breath. "I'm a dead man otherwise. There's a real evil bastard out on the open road, gunning for any and all honest truckers lookin' to make an extra buck. And I /need/ to get this load of Coors down to the Enos brothers!" He looks back and forth between those in residence at the station. "So, you gonna help me, or what?" 

:'''{{#var:156|Jillian Holtzmann (156)}} has posed:''' A dark and storm Saturday night at the Firehouse was either a really boring night, or a night of a lot of work and a lot of stress... Especially since there were only two Ghostbusters on duty in the New York area these days. (Not many good applicants had taken up the job postings online, mostly just teenagers or crazy people). AS of right now, Jillian was in the back of the Ecto-1 loading it with equipment when the man came bursting in the front doors. She looked back out of the rear of the car, then cralwed out and folded her arms together atop the Ecto-1's rear door. She stared at him from behind her yellow-tinted glasses. "There's. legit, a police station right on the other corner of this place." She told him, pointing a half-glove-covered hand toward the southeast. It was true too, there was a big Police station right outside of the Firehouse, meaning a cop presence was never that far away. 

:'''{{#var:159|Peter Venkman (159)}} has posed:''' "But if he goes to the police station that'd be bad for business." Peter Venkman comes out of nowhere. He actually probably came from upstairs or something but it doesn't really matter too much. He's looking as almost bored but slightly hopeful there's money involved. He's not even smoking right now. Well, not yet. "I'm gonna' need two things from you if we're going to continue this conversation. The first being a method of payment. The second being that there's a ghost involved in this madness that's spewing out of your mouth." Peter doesn't mean to be insult-- okay, yes. Yes, he does mean to be insulting. But that's why Janine usually handles the potentially paying customers. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' NOW The truck continues screaming along the highway, its movement punctuated by the irregular *KA-CHONK-CHONK* sounds of the cab and trailer hitting numerous pothole and asphalt cracks. "Y'see, the dang thing only comes out every ten years. Around the night of the accident," Jack says over the CB. "The one that killed 'er," he continues. "About five miles west of here. Soon to be four." AGAIN, NOT THAT LONG AGO Inside the station, the mulleted trucker gives a quizzical look to the woman. "Lady, have you even been listenin'?" He stops for a second. "Oh, wait. I didn't say that part. Okay, my bad. Look..." Jack sighs. "This evil bastard I'm talkin' about /is/ a ghost. A flippin' ghost trucker leadin' a convoy from Hell itself." He glances between the two. "Sorry. Figured that part would be obvious, comin' in here and all." Jack raises his hands out in a gesture of reception, a wad of cash in one hand. "So...yeah? Help a red-blooded American entrepreneur out with the occult problems troublin' his life?" BACK TO NOW As Jack's truck continues toward its destination, a thin green mist begins to form not far behind his vehicle. It begins to take shape, like an entity emerging from some dark shadow--forming a spectral cargo truck floating smoothly over the uneven road beneath it. 

:'''{{#var:156|Jillian Holtzmann (156)}} has posed:''' Thunder rolls outside the Firehouse, its muffled inside the brick and stone walls, but it can still be heard. From Holtz's waist, she produced a PKE Meter and lifts it up over the door of the Ecto-1 holding it out toward the man that was holding the wad of cash. She aimed it at him and flipped it on.... It blinked... blinked.... but stayed mostly dormant. "I think he's real." She said in a dry and uninterested tone. "That money looks real too." She added, glancing then to Peter. "Unlike that last client you brought in, with the bills that had Wayne Gretzky's picture on them." She shook her head and turned the PKE meter off, then stowed it again. "Canadian money... Its so adorable." 

:'''{{#var:159|Peter Venkman (159)}} has posed:''' "Uh-huh. Right. Yeah. Whatever." That's Peter Venkman's most intelligent response as he's too busy staring at the wad of cash until the moment where he's finally decided to snatch it. "Holtzmann..." Venkman is already headed towards the place where he stashes all the cash money (his pocket) and makes sure to say something to the effect of: "Load us up. We got one." Yeah, even Peter is a fan of Janine's signature phrase. Cue the Suit Up Montage. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' NOW "It was a night just like tonight. Some o' my best pals--those who were nearby, or who heard it from those who were--say it was the worst accident they ever saw," Jack says over his CB. "A twisted, burning wreck, as I heard it." He pauses for a moment, sighing. "Driver died, of course. But she was pissed that she never completed her run. So now she makes sure nobody else does, either." "She's the ghost that makes even the most seasoned trucker pale and change his drawers at the next stop down the road." Jack glances in his side mirror, spying the translucent green ghost vehicle floating behind him. It picks up pace, and the biting wind outside--or, at least, what's hopefully just the wind--begins to howl. "She's Large Marge, and she's on my tail! Where are you guys, anyway?!" 

:'''{{#var:156|Jillian Holtzmann (156)}} has posed:''' The Ecto-1's roof lights were blurry in the rain and the fog, but the vehicle was pressing forward with its headlights guiding it onward. The familar sound of the blarring siren from the classic Caddie echoed off of the walls of the buildings around it as it went at high speed through the mostly empty streets! Holtzmann was behind the driver's wheel, her fingerless stretched against her hands as she clutched the wheel and looked out through the windshield. "Well, this should be a night to remember." She said, glancing over to Peter. "Want to use the Roof Capture Beam?" She asked him, motioning toward the 'turret' controls that they'd installed not that long ago. "The traps are primed up ontop too, I made sure they were charged and all set." She reached down to the dashboard to turn the volume up on the Adele song she had playing loudly. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' The ectoplasmic truck floats forward, picking up considerable speed until it's beside Jack's own Porkchop Express. The harried trucker looks out the window at the ghost of an overset woman whose face quickly stretches in horrific dimensions: eyes grow large, mouth opens several feet, a long slobbering tongue stretches out, and hair stands wildly on end. "Great googily moogily!" Jack shouts in surprise, his CB thrown up into the air so that he can turn his steering wheel and avoid the spectre. As a result, his truck veers off onto the shoulder of the highway, a thick cloud of gravelly dust kicking up behind the vehicle while he attempts to get things back under control. Unfortunately for him, the ghost truck matches his speed, the ghoulish driver cackling in a high-pitched voice. Large Marge slides her truck toward Jack's. Jack shuts his eyes tight. "Sweet Mary..." he whispers. The two trucks share the same space for a moment before swapping their original lane positions. The Porkchop Express--and Jack, by extension, as its occupant--are absolutely coated in a thin layer of slime. "Aw, now that just /cuts/ it," Jack mutters to himself, fumbling for the CB mic. "Hey there, good buddies...I'd love not to have this goop all over me," he says into it. 

:'''{{#var:156|Jillian Holtzmann (156)}} has posed:''' Peter got into position in the back of the car after a considerable amount of complaining and moaning... but he got himself setup on the turret controls and ontop of the Ecto-1 two Proton Throwers swivelled and ame to life in the dark fog and rain! Moments later, with the Caddie barreling alongside the Truckers, two Capture Beams of brilliant reds / oranges/ and blues ignited and illuminted the darkness! The Capture Beams shot right past the front of Jack's windows, chasing after the Ghost Truck of Large Marge that was ahead of him! All the while, inside the Ecto-1, Holtzmann was singing about setting Fire to the Rain while driving and letting Peter do all the Gunnery work! 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' As soon as the world outside seems to suddenly explode into bright colors of red and blue, Jack once again cranks his steering wheel away from the threat. His tires screech as the truck bounces over into the opposing lanes for a moment before Jack can correct his path. Large Marge shrieks and writhes about in her truck, which begins to take the form not of a floating spectral truck but of a floating spectral wreck, a twisted mess of translucent steel and chrome driven by a mangled figure hanging halfway out of the windshield. 

:'''{{#var:156|Jillian Holtzmann (156)}} has posed:''' With CB mic in her hand now, Jillian keyed it on and she spoke over it, the music loud behind her voice. "Good buddy, this is Ecto-1 outta Neeeeeew YORK CITY!" She said into the mic for Jack to hear. "We're on the case. You just keep your Coors chilled and your fine butt nice and relaxed: Over!" She set the mic down and started singing to the music again. "I can't concentrate with that NOISE blarring!" Peter wailed as he was firing the Proton Beams from the top fo the car! He switched Settings on the blaster cannons and then started to charge up a powerful BURST of energy! A brillian ball of gold and white sizzled through the rain and SLAMMED into the side of Large Marge's truck! "That lit her up!" Holtz shouted back to her co-worker and employer. "I'll pull around to the other side, we can try to get the Trap aimed at her!" The Ecto-1 had gone through a lot of retrofitting over the years and it was in better shape than it ever had been, so it zipped across lanes on the highway and tailed the two Trucks, trying to pull up closer on Marge's... Peter unleashed another massive Proton Bomb onto the truck! "Best job, ever." Jillian comment, with a hearty laugh. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' The slime-doused trucker wipes a thick glob of ectoplasm off his face, tossing it to the floor of his cab with a wet *splorch* sound. Listening to Jillian, Jack nods and smacks the edge of his steering wheel. "Alright, alright!" he says, allowing himself a laugh. "You blow that hellish transmission! Show 'er who's boss." Jack shifts gears and tries to pull ahead of Marge's ghost truck. "Don't let her boggie, now! We only got a few more miles before she'll peel out back to the netherworld or wherever those damn ghosts go between hauntings." Jack leans over and pops open a can of Coors, staring at its slimy rim before taking a swig. "What's this world even comin' to?" he asks himself. 

:'''{{#var:156|Jillian Holtzmann (156)}} has posed:''' Ghostbusters technology, under Egon Spangler alone, for 19 years remained very similar to the style and make that it had been when it had first been created... though he had refined it a great deal, even made some of it considerably lighter to wear. But it was Jillian Holtzman, in the past year, that had taken daring steps toward new innovations that had both made Egon have a deapan stare of disapproval, and a deadpan stare of being impressed. (Egon has a wide variety of deadpan stares). Jack's voice reverberated through the cabin of the Ecto-1 as Holtazmann pulled up along side him. Large Marge's Truck was making a run for it, just like Jack had said she would... Holtzmann floored the pedal and Peter LATCHED onto the Ghost Truck with the duel Capture Beams again! The orange / blue/ red beams waving around it and keeping it centered in front of them. "Here we go!" Jillian shouted, then slammed a lever forward over her head! Ontop of the Ecto-1 a pair of black metal arms shot up into the rainy-air and then the covers of a giant ghost trap shot open! It was like the gates of Heaven Openeed Up on the top of the Ghostbusters car. A shining beam of white light shot forward at the back of Large Marge's Truck, which was now being pulled BACKWARd toward Jack and the Ghostbusters' car! 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' "Whoooaaaaaa......!" Jack says breathlessly, trying to keep his eyes on the entrapment happening behind his truck. His attention not on the road in front of him, the Porkchop Express begins obliquely drifting into a lane that, not far ahead, has been partitioned off for construction. THUNK THUNK THUNK resound the traffic cones slamming against the truck's front bumper, where they stick, dragged against the highway. "Aw, crap!" Jack shouts, nearly jack-knifing his rig in an effort to both avoid the construction and the light show taking place around Large Marge's ghost vehicle. "We got one more mile of wiggle room left!" Jack shouts into the CB. "Don't make me demand a refund! I paid my dues!" 

:'''{{#var:156|Jillian Holtzmann (156)}} has posed:''' Venkman was mutter something about puss-buckets while staring through the rain-slicked turret bubble on the top of the car, but he was keeping the beams going and keeping Large Marge's Truck inside the Trap's Field. Jillian could hear Jack's voice over the radio and she looked over at him to see his Truck plowing into those traffic cones. She reached her right hand up and waved at him from inside the Ecto-1. "Watch this!" She shouted, knowing he couldn't hear her though (most likely). Her right hand then went up to the control-board again and she flipped two more switches. Up ontop of the Trap Arms, two more proton beams came to life, but these were slightly different. They weren't red/orange, they were a deep bright emerald green! They FIRED out at the Ghost Truck, latched onto it and then started to -pulsate- large sphere's of energy sliding down the green energy streams, slamming into Marge's Truck! That same Evil Dead Truck Driver's Huanted Hauler was suddenly MUCH waker and it flew back into the roof of the Ecto-1 and was gobbled up by the trap on said roof! Jillian hoilared triumphant! Peter sighed in relief and the trap ontop the car laid back down, with a jet of white smoke pouring out of it and behind the Ecto-1 as though it has just eaten a huge meal, and was belching out smoke all happily content. 

:'''{{#var:144|Jack Burton (144)}} has posed:''' The sudden ambient vacuum caused by Marge's truck being gone--along with Jack's attempt to correct the wayward path casued by his inattention--seems to the trucker like being cast into darkness. "Hot /damn/ that's incredible!" Jack says as he rubs his eye. "Better than the Pink Floyd laser light show a former Mrs. Burton once dragged me to, that's for sure." As he straightens out his truck, Jack lets his truck's horn HONK HOOONNNNKKKKKK in celebration, and he slows down to let the Ecto-1 catch up to him. Holding a can of beer out of the window, Jack shouts: "Hey! This Bud's on me! I mean, it's a Coors, but--it's--look, just take the damn beer!" And then he tosses it toward the Ghostbusters. 

:'''{{#var:156|Jillian Holtzmann (156)}} has posed:''' Holtzmann looked over toward the Porkchop Express when she heard the horn slammed on and it made her grin all big and proudly. "Thats right." She muttered, but when she saw Jack hang out the window and hold up a beer she rolled her window down and CAUGHT it as he tossed it at them. "Worth every penny!" She shouted back at him then. Holtzmann brought the beer into the cab of the Ecto-1 then, while glancing between it and the road. "Eh... for later." She said then and sat it down in the cup holder that wasn't occupied with empty Unicorn Frappucino cups. Venkman was crawling over the seats back into the front passenger's side. "I'm too old for this." He grumbled to Jillian while sorting himself out in the front seat. "Is it time to go home yet?" 
}}

Jack Burton

2017-08-22T04:08:33Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{CharacterNew |NameOnMUSH=Jack Burton |Color=#333 |TextColor=#c1c1c1 |Char_id=144 |Img=https://i.imgur.com/RrN71nD.jpg |FullName=Jack Burton |Gender=Male |Species=Human |Them..."

{{CharacterNew
|NameOnMUSH=Jack Burton
|Color=#333
|TextColor=#c1c1c1
|Char_id=144
|Img=https://i.imgur.com/RrN71nD.jpg
|FullName=Jack Burton
|Gender=Male
|Species=Human
|Theme=Other
|Chartype=AFC
|Active=Active
|Occupation=Truck Driver
|Quote="Just remember what ol' Jack Burton does when the earth quakes, and the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the pillars of Heaven shake. Yeah, Jack Burton just looks that big ol' storm right square in the eye and he says, 'Give me your best shot, pal. I can take it.'"
|PAge=Mid-30s
|AAge=34
|DOB=1 July 1991
|Height=182 cm
|Weight=86 kg
|Hair=Brown
|Eyes=Brown
|Actor=1980s Kurt Russell
|Song=Coupe de Villes, "Big Trouble in Little China"
|Profile=Jack Burton, trucker extraordinaire, has been hauling, boozing, and gambling his way across the country. He'll tell anyone who'll listen a story about having been caught up in the wildest Chinatown gang war he's ever seen in his time on God's green Earth--but what he's been far less ready to tell--until he's well in his cups--is that he thinks he hasn't seen the last of those crazy bastards...or that they're even the worst mothers he'll run into.
|Skills===== Dirty Fighting ====

For all of his talk, Jack actually is a pretty skilled street fighter. There's as much chaos as discipline in his technique, and he's entirely unafraid of heading into a skirmish to fight as dirty as he possibly can--whatever it takes to win the fight.

==== Streetwise ====

Jack is highly learned in the way of the road, of the street, of the CB radio. He knows guys that know guys that know guys. Jack can get his hands on a lot of goods and find information tough for others to hear about. Sometimes, that information is completely wrong. Sometimes, his deals land him in the wrong back alley on the wrong dark and stormy night. But, all the same, Jack knows how to navigate his way out of the problem...usually.

==== Truck Driving ====

Jack's an expert trucker. He can and does haul just about anything, so long as the price is right and the highway's calling his name. Need someone to get a full cab into a skinny side street? Avoid jack-knifing along a switchback? Clear an overpass with centimeters to spare? Jack's your man, and don't you forget it.
}}

116/The Princess and the Bug

2017-08-09T00:06:25Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/04/23 |Location=Downtown, New Troy |Synopsis=Wonder Woman and Blue Beetle have an amicable chat. Ted does his best to keep it together through..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/04/23
|Location=Downtown, New Troy
|Synopsis=Wonder Woman and Blue Beetle have an amicable chat. Ted does his best to keep it together throughout the conversation.
|Cast of Characters=12, 42
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' So.. Who takes the highly advanced, enviromentally friendly public transit that the city has to offer? Ted Kord does. Oh sure, he could be driven around in his limo. Or his helicopter. or in one of a variety of experimental (and downright /awesome/) other vehicles he and his company are testing right now. But for all his money Ted isn't a snob. He isn't vindictive of his competitor who devloped the transport. And he's trying to get a feeling for this city which will soon be his, and KORD Industries, new home. That said, he has just stepped out of the hyperloop station and is sipping a latte as he strolls along the stroefronts now, talking into his bluetooth. "Look, I know Starks ARC reactor powers a good portion of the hyperloop but Still think we could sell him on our newest generation of solar collectors and storage cells.." he says to whomever is on the other line.. 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' Diana was right there... just a few steps away from where Ted Kord found himself while conversing tech work on the phone. She was dressed in a black leather slim-fit jacket that was half-cut at her stomach, had a red t-shirt on beneath that that actually had a gold WW logo on the chest and a pair of black snugly fit jeans that belled gently over heeled shoes she was wearing. She was smiling at a woman and her two daughters, they'd approached her and were asking for her autograph. She was signing them and chatting with the three of them. The girls appeared to be around 15 and 10 years of age. They seemed to be enamored to be there with Wonder Woman, and Diana was loving it herself as she enjoyed interacting with kids more than anyone on the planet. "You're both invited to the Consulate them. As is your mother and father. Breakfast then... I'll have my assistant call you?" She wsa speaking to them. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' So yeah... /THATS/ a thing. Ted has just stopped and turned around when he spots... Holy hannah! Is that... Naaaaaw. it /couldn't/ be... Could it..? He gets that fanboy look in his eyes and sowly walks over to the small group but stops just outside of their space.. because he is NOT a jerk. At least not THAT much of one. And he can wait his turn. 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' The exchange between the small gaggle of women doesn't last terribly much longer, Ted would only have to stand there for about another 45 seconds before the Mom and her kids part ways with Diana and start to walk for their transit route. The youngest girl waves back at Diana all super-eagerly and Diana would return the wave. She'd turn then back to the standing-tbal that she was parked beside, her belongings resting atop it. She started to grab for her drink and her large stylish sunglasses and then took notice of Ted. She looked over at his face with her brilliant sky-blue eyes and then gave him a polite smile and a nod. The Amazonian woman, who is a notorious charity worker and human rights activist, didn't seem to recognize the wealthy techman Ted Kord. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Perhaps some part of Ted should be hurt that Diana doesn't recognize him, but then again other then being on the covers of scientific journals, popculture science magazines, two roleplaying book forewards and a few tabloids (WASN"T HIS FAULT!!) they don't really travel in the same circles. Sure he was mentioned in the report of his (way more famous) father after his death last week but... When She nods he perks up and smiles a goofy smile. "HI!" eh greets her, then looks a bit sheepish. "I mean, hello... Uhm.. Wonder Woman, right? Gosh, I'm a /huge/ fan of yours. I've read all the news stories on you.. Your unnoficial biography.. I even bought your doll..." he says, then blinks. "RIght, sorry, that sounded creepy. I bought it for my secretary's daughter. She's as big a sfan as I am.. and it's way more acceptable for her to own a doll than a grown man." he takes a deep breath. "I just want to say.. you're a /huge/ inspiration." he says as he ofers her his hand.. "Oh.. uhm. I'm Ted.. Ted Kord." 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' Diana had been preparing to depart, but she stopped when Ted engaged her and one might expect her to look put-off by this but she wasn't. She, wasn't the kind of person be distraught by others enjoying her presence. Instead, Diana paused and she turned to face him respectively and after he said all he said she just gave him a big smile and reached her right hand out to accept his into it and give it a firm shake. "I'm thrilled to hear that you are gifting the toys to those who enjoy them." She said to him then, amused by his prevous words. Her head would tilt then to the side. "Ted Kord... That name sounds familar to me." Her voice was heavily accented English. "You are... KORD Industries?" She asked further then while her right hand placed her sunglasses up upon her forehead and tucked the limbs behind her ears. Her black hair was tied up into a bun on the crown of her head, which showed off her face entirely. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Ted Kord blushes as she takes his head, giving him that firm strong but not overpowered shake. Good thing he didn't tell her he bought more than one doll. He couldn't resist. Wow, she really is strong! But controlled. "Well the kid deserved it. She gets awesome grades and her mom is always bringing in report cards to show me.. and she keeps /my/ life organzioed as well as her daughters so it is only fair." he says with a chuckle. He then blinks when she recognizes his name. "Oh.. Well.. Yes. That's me. I mean it's my dad's com..." he stops.. and remembers just why he is now in Metropolis and sighs. "Sorry.. sometimes I forget. yeah, /I/ am Kord industries now. For better or worse." 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' "For better." Diana continued where he'd left off and she showed him a confident smile after taking her hand back and resting it on the table beside her. "I am sure of that. Why? Well.. because you've learned from your father, both his successes and his mistakes... and you'll use them to aim toward being a better person and a better leader. That is what parenting is all about, in my view. For each generation that comes next, to be better than the last." Her head would shake lightly then. "If that is not what we pass on to our children, then I am not sure what we are even trying to accomplish." But for a woman who was immortal, her own words might not apply to her. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Ted Kord actually feels a wee bit better when she smiles at him, part of that fear and sadness being cast aside by her confidence. And thats her real super power. The ability to share that confidence with others. "When you put it that way... maybe you are right." he says, then looks embarrased that he was even so scared to begin with. "I like to think my dad was as good a parent as circumstance allowed.. I mean I know he put p with a lot of my shi.. I mean... with a lot of my junk.." Because who could swear in front of Diana prince, right? And now that confidence is coursing through him. Not just about teh company but about the other.. project. Because it wasn't just his father's legacy he has to fulfill. He's been putting it off for too long. Finding excuses. He may not be a father but /his/ dad passed on a legacy.. and so did Dan. The original Blue Beetle "Yeah.. you're right. You're totally right. Thank you, Diana. I think I just needed to be told that..." 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' Diana's blue eyes were on his face as he spoke, her small chin would dip down some as she listened to him with those big round eyes up a little while watching him. When he almost cursed, a little sly grin appeared on her red painted lips and it lingered there for a second or two longer after he corrected himself. The Amazonian woman's left hand extended then and she would place it on the side of his right arm, above the elbow, her hands were warm like the sandy beaches beside the ocean on a perfect day. "Keep your faith in yourself as your most powerful alley, Mister Kord." She told him, giving his arm a soft squeeze before she let her hand drop back down to her side. A moment later and she was pulling a small golden crown out of her leather carryall on her side. "I have these on me incase I meet children who recognize me." She offered it to him and smiled. "Please, for the daughter that you mentioned." It was a replica of her own tiara that she would wear with her armor set. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Ted never thought that after the week he had he would feel this... Invigorated. Yes, he still mourns the father that passed away. yes, he was feeling unsure of himself about whether he was really wirthy of taking over the company. yes, he wasn't sure he was worthy about slipping on the suit and carrying out Dan's legacy, which he had been training for, for years, and had only recently had a crisis of faith. But Diana just has that effect on people. Her smile. Her touch. He presence. Everything. He feels energized and when she offers the tiara he graciously accepts it, his smile becoming broad and goofy. "Candy will LOVE this.. Thank you, Diana. Thank you so much. You don;t know how much this will mean to her." Or just how much just you believeing in me, a stranger, means to me, he thinks. HE then looks down at her luggage. "Oh, I'm holding you up. I hope you have a GREAT da, Princess." 

:'''{{#var:42|Diana Prince (42)}} has posed:''' It was a fine line to walk between coming off in a way that was honest and sincere, or coming off as a pretentious bitch. Diana had thought she'd mastered the positive one of those two, but it was something she was always afraid of doing wrong... even after a hundred years of being apart of the 'dirty world' now. "I'm glad." She said softly to him, still smiling as she gathered her things up. "I will pay more close attention to headlines about your company now." She added as she picked up her bag as well and placed the strap over her shoulder. "Should you need any help from me, just contact the Consulate to my people, they will put you in touch with me." The woman, who was several inches over 6'0" with those heels on, would touch his arm once more before politely heading for her own transit destination. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Ted Kord grins and nods, still looking like a happy puyppy. SIncere is one of the things he does so very well, like part of him is a kid thatw ill never grow up despide the soul crushing responsibilities of the world. "Okay! AND HEY!" he calls after her. "Same for you! If your consulate needs anything, Call KORD Industries!" he says, and then watches her walk away, sighing to himself. Such a surreal experience, this turned out to be. 
}}

1034/Let's Get It Started

2017-08-09T00:05:20Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/06/19 |Location=Downtown, New Troy |Synopsis=Blue Beetle and Booster Gold find themselves in over their heads when attempting to get rich runn..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/06/19
|Location=Downtown, New Troy
|Synopsis=Blue Beetle and Booster Gold find themselves in over their heads when attempting to get rich running a repo business.
|Cast of Characters=12, 1039
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* "Hello?" a voice asks after a blue-gloved hand answers a phone on an advanced electronic console. "We are. You /what/? You do? We /do/! You will? We can. We will! You too!" The hand presses another button to end the call, then begins another. "Booster, buddy," the Blue Beetle says excitedly, "we've got a job! Remember 'Blue-n-Gold Repo Depot'? Well, someone finally called the number for it! Apparently there's a car to pick up near Metropolis Stadium. Meet you there?" Even as he speaks, the Beetle races his Bug airship through the sky towards his destination, its azure chassis gleaming in the sun. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "Ten four, good buddy!" Booster calls into his earpiece. Wind is whipping past him, muting his voice-- he must be flying. "I've got a confab on the freeway but it's clear sailing to the breakridge, ten twenty on the come-back!" Someone recently got Smokey and the Bandit on Netflix, it seems. Booster diverts his course through the sky, a distant, glimmering beacon of gold and hope and awesomeness. A slightly smaller golden beacon easily keeps pace. <<Sir, this is very exciting! No one's called the Repo Depot in eight months, twelve days, eleven hours, six min-->> "Yeah, I know, Skeets! Don't jinx a good thing!" Booster grumbles at his companion. "You're recording this, right?" <<Always, sir!>> Booster rolls over in flight, flying sideways and mugging for his mobile film studio. "Booster Gold here folks, off another exciting mission with my good buddy, the mighty BLUE BEETLE! It's one of our smaller jobs-- a little repo action-- but the great Booster Gold always says, no job to big or too small!" <<What about that temp job working at the lawn care service?>> "...Shuttup, Skeets!" 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Great, see you there, pal," Ted replies, adjusting the Bug's controls to send the ship veering at an oblique angle through Metropolis' skyline, weaving between buildings and buzzing a number of competitors' headquarters. "Alright," the Beetle says to himself, "the client said it was a green Escalade. That'll be a nice commission, at least. So," the hero continues, looking through his system's scanners, "how many green Escalades are there here?" A parking garage near the stadium seems relatively empty. There's maybe a dozen cars there: a Volkswagen Golf, a rusting brown Yugo, one or two Ford Escorts, a black Prius, and so on. There's a green Escalade, too. It's currently eating one of the Escorts with its massive hood-mouth, giant metal fangs and all. "That looks like it's..." Ted begins calmly, before trailing off. He stares for a long moment at his monitor. "...wait, WHAT?!" "BG!" he shouts into the Bug's transmitter. "Watch out, man! This car's gonna be a bit trickier than we thought!" "Oh, God," Ted says to himself, finger off his transmitter. "I don't suppose there's any way I can complete this job from inside this fortified vehicle, is there?" He thinks. And thinks some more. Still more thinking. "...Crap." 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "Aww c'mon man, it's just a repo gig!" Booster responds, weaving throuhg a pair of low buildings. His HUD tracks the Mighty Blue Bug, seeing the wireframe outline through the intervening buildings. A golden motion trail follows the strapping fellow as he zips around the perimeter. And then he sees the Escalade. "Double crap!" he agrees, yelping in surprise. "What the frak is that thing? Is-- is thart EATING that little car?" he demands, hovering at what he hopes is a safe distance. "That's ... I can't decide if that's disgusting or not." At least half a dozen cars have been 'eaten' and he drops to a hover a few dozen yards from the Escalade, just off the deck. "So, like... what's our insurance on property damage?" he inquires of Ted. "I don't think we're getting that Cadillac back in--!" He's cut off as a Prius lurches from unlife (completely silently-- those damn electric engines!) and slashes up at him. Bumper and grill separate, and Booster's hauled to ground by the ankle with grunt of pain. The little electric car jumps on Booster and starts snapping at him with its 'mouth', making a fearsome *mrreeeer-- myeeeeer* noise. "Cheese and crackers! Vampire cars! Do something, BB!" Booster yelps, grabbing the 'jaws' of the little car and trying to keep it from getting a bite on him. The Vampire-Escalade roars at the sight of the smaller car attacking Booster, and with a much louder, throatier roar of a V8, starts skittering across the pavement on worn, ragged tired towards Booster! 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "On it, friend-of-friends!" Blue Beetle replies, rushing to action! Specifically, he calls up the new client and maneuvers his way slowly through several touch-tone menu options. Finally, he reaches a person. "Yeah, hi, hello. Blue Beetle of Blue-n-Gold Repo Depot here. Look, we found a car that's eating other cars. Yes," he adds after a pause. "That's right. Okay. Yes, absolutely. Okay. Okay. To shreds, you say? I see. And if it's brought back non-functional? To shreds, you say? Okay. Okay!" Ted hangs up the phone and says to Booster, "So, here's the thing. The ad we let out says we'd bring it back in pristine condition. Apparently, its creator forgot to feed it lawnmower engines for a weekend and it broke out of her lab. So we have to coax it back, but we can't 'kill' it. Assuming it's even alive for the sake of argument." He rubs his hand over his ace and groans. "I'll...I'll be outside in a minute." Shortly thereafter, the Beetle swings down on his skyhook, staying high enough not to be in the Escalade's attack range. "Think we can find enough junk heaps to make a trail of candy for it to follow?" he asks. "I definitely don't think we should let it get a taste for human flesh!" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Booster grunts and sticks his arm inside the Prius' grill, and a blast of discharged plasma blows the tiny little generator out the far side of the vehicle to smash against some bricks. The car groans and whines and falls off of him, and he pushes it the rest of the way before he's crushed before shooting skywards, just in time to avoid the Escalade crashing down on his position with a snarl and snap of motorized teeth. "/Pristine/ condition?" he yelps. "No way we agreed to that!" <<Actually sir, it's right here on the bottom of your ad!>> Skeets says, chiming in with an obnoxiously helpful tone. The advertisement is projected in holographic form in front of them, with the 'Pristine Condition' clause popping in bright bold colors. "...crapsack!" Booster mutters, zipping around fifteen feet off the deck. "I don't-- I mean how much does this thing /eat/?" he asks, picking up a muffler and flinging it at the Escalade like a milkman dodging a rabid guard dog. He watches with surprise as it lunges for the junked steel, savagely consuming it. "It's... not quite a plan, but it's getting there. Like... fifteen percent of a plan, Ted," he informs his friend. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Next time, don't let Skeets use neural net algorithms to write legally binding offers!" Beetle shouts in return, curling up as best he can on the end of his skyhook line to avoid offering up any limb to the Escalade. As the Escalade finishes its impromptu 'meal', it opens its hood and roars, a long honking sound punctuated by the growl of a powerful engine. "Booster, buddy," Ted calls, "while I'm all ears for your plan, what I really, really, morbidly want to know is...how does it digest these things? And...you know..." He grimaces and shakes his head. "Wait!" Beetle shouts, snapping his gloved fingers somehow. "What if we can /lead/ it back by driving a bait car? I mean, what if /you/ can /lead/ it back by driving a bait car? One that's /sure/ to be delicious?" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "It's-- you farker, this was YOUR plan!" Booster shouts back at Ted. He yelps and zips away as the machine lunges for him again, hovering out of reach. "You said 'Maybe we can feed it something' and then I said 'That's not much of a plan, that's like, fifteen percent of a plan!'" "Skeets, if I survive, remind me to punch Ted!" <Yessir!>> He rubs the back of his head, considering Beetle's suggestion, and then palms his face. "I don't like ANY PART OF THIS PLAN," he yells at Ted, looking around for something thus far undamaged. "I don't like ANY PLAN where the word 'bait' gets used! Twice!" "Oh, this is dumb dumb dumb," he whispers to himself-- and he zips downwards, landing in an open-topped Miata. "Skeets! Hack this car!" he shouts. <<Remember your seatbelt sir!>> Skeets says, extending a probe into the ignition. <<Your adoring audience needs a good role model for traffic safety.>> "Arghfafrgghle!" Booster groans-- but he pulls on his seatbelt, them examines the car frantically. <<Neutral, Drive, Reverse,>> Skeets mutters helpfully, the HUD overlaying the controls. "Oh man... okay... Reverse... and... floor it WAUUGGHGHGH!" The Miata leaps backwards and he slams onto the brakes, barely missing the wall, and then floors the car into drive and peels out just as the ravaging rampaging Escalad lunges for him, slavering and dripping oil. "TED I REALLY REALLY HATE THIS PLAN!" Booster screams, white-knuckling the wheel and banging around the parking garage's levels as fast as he can steer. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Booster," Ted replies, still clutching tightly to his skyhook and dangling about thirty feet above the Escalade, "let's not think too hard about who came up with what terrible plan. What matters is that /you're/ getting all the blame for it!" Just then, the Escalade roars in response to Booster's sudden Skeets-assisted hotwiring of the Miata. The Blue Beetle yelps in surprise and lets go of the skyhook. He falls, seeing his life flash before his eyes--along with a sudden realization that he's going to be devoured by a hungry car. Then, it happens. Kind of. He drops, upside-down, into the passenger seat of the Miata, screaming in horror for a long moment before he realizes where he is. "Wait..." he suddenly says, gasping for breath, "I'm not dead? I'm alive! I'm alive!" Then, it hits him. "You're driving?!" Beetle flounders about, trying to sit upright in the seat. "I'd rather be eaten by the Escalade!" For its part, the Escalade's tires squeal as it tries to catch up to the retreating Miata. Its hood snaps open and shut. NOM NOM NOM! 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "Ted I hate to break it to you BUT I DON'T HAVE A DRIVER'S LICENSE!" Booster screams at his friend, overcompensating wildly with massive corrections on the wheel. All the while Skeets' calm, enthusiastic support is speaking directly into Booster's left ear, offering helpful hints. <<Ten and two, sir!>> <<Obey all posted speed limits, sir!>> <<Turn right, sir!>> "Wow I'm glad you talked me into that Grand Theft Auto marathon," he yells over the roar of the Miata. "ooooooh crap HANG ON!" is all the warning Beetle gets-- the Miata launches off the entrance ramp with a *whirr* of tires. The Miata lands with a heavy *CRUNCH*, doing massive damage to the shock absorbers, but Booster whips the wheel around. Tailfishing like crazy, the little sports car putters along with an underwhelming amount of torque-- fortunately, the roaring vapire-Cadillac is fast but clumsy, and the damaged tires give it little purchase. "Ideas, Ted! This is a very good idea-time-thing!" 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Ideas, ideas, ideas, ideas..." Ted repeats, staring behind him with wide eyes at the ever-present Escalade. "What if--no," he says. "Wait, what--no. Wait! Nahh. But maybe? No. Wait! I've got--no," he continues. "Wait! Yes! It's /not/ an /immediate/ no, Booster!" Beetle shouts, slapping his companion on the shoulder. Then, he begins fishing in his belt for a device of some kind. "Alright, buddy, I'm going to have the Bug 'eat' us. It'll catch us in its pincers and then lead the target along to the client's place. It's not too far away." Beetle's already got the Bug flying overhead, facing backwards and lowering slowly toward the car, its giant pincers moving slowly open and shut. "Just keep this speed and maybe we won't die. I believe in you.../that/ much, at least," Ted adds. They hit a pothole and he accidentally adjusts the device. The pincers on the floating Bug begin mashing open-shut-open-shut in an incredibly fast and powerful manner. "Woops," Ted says under his breath, and readjusts the speed back to a much less lethal setting. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Booster emits a stream of profanties, and Skeets zips to hover in front of him with a bright red light around his viewcamera. <<SIR! Please mind your language!>> Booster suggests that Skeets perform an anatomically improbable act, and if the little drone could frown, it would do so. <<I'll add a profanity warning to this video, sir,>> he says, sounding... almost injured. "Crap crap crap crap--!" Booster starts to tap on the brakes, lurching and screeching on the ground as he endeavours to slow down enough that the Bug doesn't just shred the car into pieces. He tries swerving, but to no avail-- and then there's a mighty roar of unmuffled American muscle, and the big Escalade lunges past a smaller SUV and takes the rear fender off the Miata! Booster grabs Ted by the front of his armor. "FIVE PERCENT OF A PLAN IS NOT A PLAN!" he screams, trying to drive and not take his eyes off the road and watch the rearview mirrors AND not hit the bug-- and throttle Ted a little. Helpfully! To shake ideas loose. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "You're right!" Beetle cries in response. "It was a terrible plan! But /this/ plan.../this/ plan will do us right!" The Bug swoops down behind the Escalade, hovering just a few feet above the asphalt. Ted squints his eyes in concentration and very, very carefully snags the Escalade in the Bug's jaws. Then, just as carefully, he causes the Bug to ascend back into the air. The Escalade in its pincers roars, honks, and chomps its chassis jaws menacingly but futilely. "Alright, pal, let's turn this thing in for our /big reward/!" Ted shouts, laughing. "We did it! Payday!" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Booster watches the Bug take the Escalade off, and he cheers and whoops along with Ted. He punches on the brakes a few times-- the Miata's beat to hell with dings, dents, missing paint, shocks ruined, brake drum leaking, and two tires no longer aligned. It rattles to a halt, wheezes, coughs, and dies. Booster jumps back out of the driver's position and sits on the headrest, then triumphantly claps Ted on the shoulder. "We did it, good buddy! Great thinking back there!" He turns to look at Skeets and flashes a big grin, popping a thumbs up and throwing his chest out. "Well, it got a little hairy back there-- not gonna lie, ol' Booster Gold thought he was headed for the scrap yard--" Skeets inserts a laugh track-- "but like ol' Booster says, it's all in the reflexes!" 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' As Booster claps Beetle on the shoulder, Ted's caught by surprise. He drops his device and quickly dives for it... ...and manages to catch it before it hits the ground. "Look at that! Close call," Ted says, chuckling. "I almost hit /this/ button." In his zeal, he hits the button. The pincers snap shut, nice and tight. They pierce the Escalade, whose pieces begin to shear apart and fall like jagged, deadly rain over the intersection where the Bug's currently floating. "Uh...Booster?" Beetle asks. "Can you have Skeets double-check what we promised clients if we couldn't guarantee the 'pristine condition' return?" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' The camera, still running, records Booster's reaction as the Escalade is shredded and chunks of grey steel and green-painted fascia rain down around the two men in a calamitous finality for the life of their contract vehicle. He remains frozen, eyes stunned and a plastic smile on his face. He doesn't respond to Ted right away. <<Uh... sir? The... camera? The-- SIR!>> Skeets yelps, just as Booster wheels on Ted Kord with a shout of rage. The camera pans to the side, aiming at a broken Cadillac badge and half an exhaust manifold. <<SIR! Mister Beetle can't fold that way without doing damage to his spine!>> Skeets yelps-- and then the camera goes black! 
}}

1054/I Swear, You'd Better Not Tell Me THIS Is the Justice League

2017-08-09T00:04:05Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/06/20 |Location=Downtown, New Troy |Synopsis=Booster Gold and Blue Beetle set up a 'signing' event that's "coincidentally" outside the Hall of..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/06/20
|Location=Downtown, New Troy
|Synopsis=Booster Gold and Blue Beetle set up a 'signing' event that's "coincidentally" outside the Hall of Justice. Hilarity ensues. Spoilers: Blue Beetle got more action than Booster Gold.
|Cast of Characters=12, 1039, 342
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' It's a gloriously warm and sunny summer day in Metropolis. The sky is a brilliant blue. The sun is a gleaming gold. Even better, a number of flyers, radio commercials, and Youtube ads have called attention to a SUPER SPECIAL EVENT at the Hall of Justice--a public signing session and meet & greet with the city's greatest heroes! On the sidewalk just outside the legal property line for the estate, two costumed heroes unfold a card table and throw a cheap vinyl spread over it. One of the men--the bombastic Blue Beetle--drops a box of photographs of himself and his partner--the glorious Booster Gold--at one end of the table. At the other, a pile of headshots featuring Booster & Skeets awaits signatures. The Beetle hangs along the long public-facing edge of the table a banner that reads 'SUPERBUDDIES!'. There's a line growing along the sidewalk, too. After all, Metropolis' citizens tend to be huge fans of their protectors, and public events like this are rare! However, as the two heroes set up shop, some of the people waiting near the front of the line murmur and gossip. "Who are these guys?" "Where's Superman?" "Gotta be roadies..." "How much is this gonna cost, again?" "I can't wait to get Wonder Woman's phone number!" There's a bit of pushing and shoving but, so far, things are relatively violence-free. A few of the patrons waiting in line, however, look like they could make trouble; a handful standing well over six feet in height and seem to be nearly as wide are wearing tent-sized overcoats despite the sun and heat, along with fedoras pulled low over their faces. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "Hey, hey, calm down everyone, there's room for everyone!" Booster calls, holding his hands up. He lifts his hands to be seen, though as tall as he is, it's not like the big blue and gold half of the SUPERBUDDIES can't be easily spotted from a mile away. He's loud as hell, too, with Skeets hovering nearby and working as a mobile amplifier/recording studio. "We've got all kinds of merchandise! Superbuddies pencil toppers! Superbuddies bookmarks! Here kid, have a Superbuddies sticker!" Booster tells a little kid, slapping a sticker on the back of the boy's phone. "Gee, thanks Mister! Where's Superman?" "...Okay, get lost, kid, there are others in line," Booster mutters, propelling the boy back in line. The big celebrity smile returns, and he flings a pile of Jolly Ranchers into the crowd with a high, arching lob. "Have some candy everyone, the SUPERBUDDIES are gonna start answering your questions as part of our YouTube Q&A any minute now?" He leans sideways towards Ted, eyes shifting behind his visor, and speaks out the side of his mouth. "You're /sure/ we're off of League property, right?" 

:'''{{#var:342|Panthro (342)}} has posed:''' An extremely sharp business suit encounters the line, and the cat in the suit tilts his hat back just enough to ask a person in the line why they're blocking the sidewalk. "I think they're selling Justice League merch," the young man answers. "They're wearing spandex and don't look stupid, so it's gotta be good, right?" What is this 'spandex' the human is going on about?, Panthro wonders to himself. The word doesn't quite translate, but "clinging swimsuit material" is the implication, and clearly neither of them is wearing swimsuit material. One has advanced battle armor, a bit gaudy. Perhaps he's a general or a prince. The other is clearly an engineer. Panthro decides he wants to talk with the engineer. He gets into the line. Somewhere. For some reason, the people behind him don't complain too much when they get a better look, and he wonders at why these hairless apes are so congenial. Like Berbels but without the robot bits, the group mind, and the ability to create wonderful things in fast-time. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Uh, yeah, should be," Blue Beetle says, scratching the back of his masked head. "Just ... just don't lean your chair back very far. And for the love of science, BG, do /not/ scoot the chair back at /all/." He offers a smile to a few children near the front of the line. However, unlike Booster, the Beetle's not so charismatic, and the children's mother (sitter? aunt? guardian?) cringes slightly. "Aren't you a little old for that Halloween costume, pal?" she asks in a snide tone. "Funny, lady, funny," Beetle grumbles before screwing a large extension to the barrel of his gun. "Here you go, everyone!" he shouts. "Who wants some Beetle-themed /fidget spinners/?!?" With a *POOOOM* of compressed air, two dozen blue plastic objects fly into the air, spinning wildly like a fun Frisbee-esque fad version of shrapnel. A few moments later they begin peppering the skulls of pedestrians, many of whom dive for cover under their purses, backpacks, or fellow citizens. "Oh, God, why?!" several individuals scream. "It hit me in the eyeball!" cries another. "Why do you hate me, Batman?" Meanwhile, Beetle's made the gun disappear, his cheeks a deep red. "So, uh, who's ready for an /autograph/!?" he asks, holding up a pen as he shuffles behind the table. "Umm ... I guess I am," a large man with a ponytail says. "But I've got to say. So far, this is the worst. signing. ever." 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "That... that TOTALLY WAS Batman, and we all saw him do it!" Booster shouts, pointing dramatically in the distance. "That prankster! Haha, it's all in good fun folks, these things just happen sometimes, please direct all complaints to the Justice League help line!" "Ted this isn't going as well as I'd hoped," Booster says through a fixed grin. "I thought you said the merch was a sure thing?!" "Hey, another autograph, BOOSTER GOLD is always happy to serve his admiring public! Where are my Booster Girls?" he inquires, shouting to be heard over the crowd. No one shouts back at him. "...busy ... running my fan club, I see!" he says, trying to put a positive spin on it. He spots Panthro lurking at the back of the pack, and frowns. "Hey Skeets, I didn't think there were anthropomorphs in Metropolis this timeframe?" <<Yessir, there are! I believe that's Panthro, one of the Thundercats!>> says his zipping little drone, hovering near Booster's shoulder. "Woah, hey, the Thundercats are here?" someone remarks-- and people start turning to look at Panthro with excitement. "Those guys are awesome!" 

:'''{{#var:342|Panthro (342)}} has posed:''' Uhhh, wait, what? How did the human prince see through my perfect business-suit disguise? The humans in line said nothing! Abort! Flee!! ... all thoughts that should be going through Panthro's head. Instead he's intrigued that the little robot knows who he is, and concludes that it sent the information to the golden one. He's guardedly optimistic, though his "wily" sense is beginning to tingle a bit. Still, positivity! And that the humans in line are responding positively as well. Lion-O will be gratified that the humans aren't //all// of the opinion that the Thundercats should be locked away as invaders. He gives a hesitant finger-wiggling wave, and says, "Hello?" as people make noises that aren't hostile. Yet. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Panthro?!" Beetle says excitedly. "No foolin'? Hey, everybody! Check it out! We've got one /hep cat/ here!" he adds, grinning. "Huh? Huh?" No one seems to appreciate the joke. Beetle's smile fades. Just then, a new opportunity presents itself. "Did someone say 'Booster girls'?" an older, heavyset woman asks, wearing a Booster Gold t-shirt that's well-worn and stretched thin over her frame, like too much butter on bread. "I was hoping for a smoochie-roochie, my golden guardian," she coos, blinking a number of times. "$5 and he's yours for the night," Beetle suddenly interjects. "Here's $20," the woman responds, throwing a crumpled-up bill at the world's worst wingman. Meanwhile, Beetle's pile of photos and relevant merchandise is markedly larger than Booster's, as the crowd seems overwhelmingly to prefer the Gold to the Blue. "Hey, come on, folks! Step on up! Who /doesn't/ want their own Beetle Buddy? It's a robotic beetle toy that looks incredibly realistic!" He holds it out to a young child, who starts sobbing uncontrollably in fright. The child thrusts its face into the folds of its parent's jeans. Beetle coughs. "Uh, why not take a balloon instead? This one's on the house." He hands a balloon sporting the two heroes' smiling faces to the parent. "Hey, Panthro," Beetle calls. "You bring any swag? Come on up here, champ! Put your paw-print on something!" 

:'''{{#var:342|Panthro (342)}} has posed:''' "Swag? No, I was visiting one of your local technology recycling stations for raw materials," Panthro says. By "technology recycling station" he means "junk stores" and "flea markets" since they're all congregated together in a single building ... but it's not near downtown. "Swag. You're selling memorabilia. I'll trade you a ... paw print ... for one or two of your beetles, Engineer. Are they simple toys or do they have some of your actual technology in them?" If they're just toys, Panthro has decided he'll use them to play with the Wilys. If they're advanced perhaps he can spend some of his Earthian moneys. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "Wo-- he-- wa--" Booster stammers entirely too slowly as his buddy sells him out for twenty bucks. TWENTY BUCKS! The woman leers at him and makes with the grabby hands, and Booster starts backing away. <<SIR! You're dangerously close to Justice League property!>> Booster yelps and looks behind him. Fangirl... jail... fangirl... jail... He sweats on the edge of decision. "Panthro? PANTHRO! My good buddy!" Booster scrambles over the table, sending merch flying, and runs up to Panthro to shake a hand-- paw-- and help hustle the Thundercat towards the booth. "Skeets! Get over here, let's get a picture with Panthro, our good pal! C'mon Blue Beetle, get in on this, HEY EVERYONE! It's PANTHRO!" Booster says. There's silence, and discreetly, Skeets emits a chorus of <Yeah! Woohoo!>> sounds. The crowd picks up a smattering of applause, and it gains momentum as things do. "Panthro! So what brings you near League property? Are you just here to say hello to us here (at the) League (and) Superbuddies?" he inquires, doing everything he can to either move Panthro to the front of the booth, or move the center of attention to him. Also he maneuvers to keep the Thundrecat between him and his ... date. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Well," Beetle says, rubbing his chin in thought as Panthro barters. "What do you think a paw print'll fetch among these fan types?" "More than your stupid toy!" a nearby waiting 'fan' shouts, punctuated by others' laughter. "Rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb..." the Blue Beetle mutters nigh-inaudibly, making a face before re-composing a polite smile. "Sure thing, ol' buddy, a paw-print autograph for a /totally awesome/ Beetle toy." He offers the object to the Thundercat. "They /do/ have high-quality Kord Industries guts, though," Beetle adds quietly. The toy, however, is launched into the air as Booster suddenly scrambles toward his companion. Beetle attempts to catch it. At the same time, the Booster girl throws herself forward, lips-first. Beetle is tackled, his face helplessly made out with by the older woman for a solid minute before she opens her eyes and discovers she's kissing the wrong hero. In her anger, she begins kicking the inventor in the stomach. He protects a spot a little lower, just in case. The durable Beetle toy bounces on the sidewalk and doesn't break. "Hey," an approaching fan says, stepping forward, "can you make mine out to 'Ebay'?" 

:'''{{#var:342|Panthro (342)}} has posed:''' "I'm an alien panther-man, human, not a total newb," Panthro says to the obvious auctioneer. "I've already got an eBay account of my own. But I'll make it out to 'Lucky Bidder' if you want." He grabs the beetle toy off the ground, wraps it in the color-splash handkerchief from his sharp business suit, and puts it in an inside pocket. He also takes business cards, because he wants to contact this //Kord// about this tech -- it seems pretty durable. It might be useful. AND, the Booster Booster is apparently trying to pummel the Beetle. "Ma'am? I don't think that's supposed to bend that direction." He fully expects the prince to come to the rescue of his engineer, but perhaps that's taking noblesse oblige too far -- the woman seems maddened. Perhaps she's been into the 'nip. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Well, that won't do! Booster keeps mugging for the cameras, standing next to Panthro and making sure everyone can see him doing it. "Panthro, everyone, great guy, great... alien... pantherman!" he declares. "We're real glad you stopped by, the League sure respects you and the Superbuddies appreciate you joining us!" "How about some fireworks to mark the occassion?" Booster asks-- and flings two plasma bolts skywards. They explode overhead in a glittering ball of red andd green and blue, drawing the eye upwards. While everyone's distracted he leans behind Panthro and *zots* the fangirl in her rear with a low-power plasma burst. She screams, leaping around and swatting at her pants afire. Booster shoots past Panthro with all the skill of a professional athlete, scooping Beetle off the ground. "We're in over our heads here, Ted. Cheese it!" he remarks, propelling Ted towards the table full of merchandise. "Grab what you can and beat feet!" 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Blue Beetle spreads his arms as he's suddenly thrown toward the table of stuff, and he scoops up as much as he can as he slides across its top and then falls onto the ground. The hero leaps to his feet, grasping boxes of photos, toys, and assorted plastic crap, and then he takes off down the sidewalk. The fans suddenly break their polite queueing and turn into a localized riot, clamoring for 'stuff' in all its forms. They play tug-of-war with Booster Gold towels, scribble phony autographs on headshots and snap pictures of the retreating heroes, and throw Skeets-shaped pencil toppers at passing traffic. The Booster girl, once her pants are no longer aflame, reaches futilely toward the departing Booster Gold. She falls to her knees and throws her arms up in the air, screaming in rage and heartbreak. 

:'''{{#var:342|Panthro (342)}} has posed:''' "Wow. So ... that's Booster Gold and the Blue Beetle," Panthro muses, picking up a few more beetles as they happen to be at his feet. He finishes signing the "pawprint" for the singular fan who actually asked, and then ambles away from the crowd. It's the power of the business suit. It says 'do not mess with me'. Nothing to do with being nearly seven feet tall and being a humanoid cat. "Taxi!" yeah, good thing there are actual taxis here near the Hall of Justice. 
}}

1082/Burning Up the Dance Floor

2017-08-09T00:02:38Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/06/21 |Location=Southside, New Troy |Synopsis=Booster Gold, Blue Beetle, and Dragonfly take on a dancing-themed super-arsonist. |Cast of Chara..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/06/21
|Location=Southside, New Troy
|Synopsis=Booster Gold, Blue Beetle, and Dragonfly take on a dancing-themed super-arsonist.
|Cast of Characters=12, 1039, 69
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Hello there! 'Booster & Friendz' Fire-fighting and Loss Prevention' hotline!" says Blue Beetle into a phone, cheer in his voice but pain on his face. "...can't believe I let him name that one..." the hero grumbles, a hand over the phone for a moment. Then, it's back to the performance. "You have a what now? And it's what? For how long? Okay, okay!" he says with a hint of exasperation. "We're on our way!" MEANWHILE, ON THE SOUTH SIDE OF METROPOLIS Flames begin to lick at the walls of the 'Disco Will Never Die!' retro roller disco, and a cloud of smoke begins to trickle up toward the blue sky overhead. The doors are sealed shut, and the patrons within try their best, if futile, attempts to bodyslam the doors while wearing roller skates. Meanwhile, in the middle of the rink, a red-headed man performs a wheeled version of Riverdance. "They said I'd never amount to anything! That I couldn't make a living doing what I loved!" the man shouts, hands on his hips. "Well, now they'll get a load of FIREFOOT, the world's foremost dancing arsonist!" One of the panicking patrons screams: "Why is the DJ playing that Irish music? Someone call the police already!" The DJ comes on over the speaker: "Don't worry, ma'am! Heroes are on the way!" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "I'll go high, you go low!" Booster tells Ted, as the SUPERBUDDIES arrive on scene! With Ted in his trusty Mighty Blue Bug, and Booster soaring through the skies with his faithful companion Skeets the Drone just off his shoulder, they form a startlingly chromatically appealing streak of blue and gold as the duo races to the scene of the crime! Booster swings over a skylight and hits it with a pair of plasma bolts, then smashes right through the portal and lands heavily on the roller rink ground. He bounces to his feeet, fists out in a boxer's stance, and starts looking for... ...the villain, who doesn't readily stand out. Needless to say, the sudden addition of an extra chimney does wonders to help the fire, and Booster yelps in surprise as the flames abruptly get much taller and more energetic, wind whipping past his perfect, curly hair. "Beetle! We need fire suppression!" he hollers. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     Talking of blue skies, high up in the air Dragonfly corkscrews through the sky, outracing her sonic boom, and just generally enjoying the Hell out of being alive and flying. On the flip side of her barrel roll she spots the thread of smoke. The whoops of joy die quickly as she pauses; the sonic boom pulses through her. She then plummets down, heedless of speed. A few broken windows will be the price paid for alacrity in response to a threat to life and limb.     Seeing Booster's penetration of the roof she fruitlessly calls out "No, you idiot!" from too far away to be heard. Dammit. That's a few more broken windows as she boosts her speed and generates a louder boom. The boom that catches up with her as she swoops in to land at the skylight. The boom that shatters the rest of the skylight, making the problem worse.     "Dammit!" 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "SUPPRESSING FIRE!" Blue Beetle shouts from the control seat of the Bug, which begins wildly spraying fire-retardant foam all over the outside of the roller disco as well as inside the hole that Booster's made. And anyone standing nearby said hole. Inside, Firefoot continues dancing, with tongues of flame shooting out from his toes and heels as he moves about to the music's rhythm. The DJ, in an effort to disrupt the arsonist's fiery feet, puts on Snow's "Informer." Over the intercom, the DJ says, "Here's a blast from the past that always keeps you /cool/ ... try keeping up with this beat!" Momentarily stymied, Firefoot seems to lose steam--until he begins popping and locking, and his toes begin spitting red-hot fire. A number of patrons have begun to drop to the ground from the amount of smoke in the area, where they cough and hack, clutching their throats and crawling across the floor. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "Sir! You're on fire!" Booster shouts, spotting the psychopath trying to dance his way to a flame-free life. "I'll-- acppthlthl!" He's hit with a massive mound of the foaming green fire suppressant, which manages to hit absolutely nothing or no one on fire, and staggers around. "Damnit! I'm blind! Skeets, I need HUD wireframe compensation!" <<On it sir!>> Skeets says, hovering a safe distance away. Holographic lasers scan the entire area and project a digital display right into Booster's obstructed visor, and he straightens up-- Just in time for Firefoot to kick him right in the gut with a jet-powered skate. Booster 'oofs' in pain as the impact slips past his kinetic shield and staggers backwards-- right into Dragonfly's path! 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     Well, pick a lemon, make lemonade, right? Dragonfly, after gaping at the huge flames she's caused to expand, looks past them to the civilians caught in the disco. Unable to make out the source of the fire, but able to see the patrons succumbing to smoke inhalation, she makes her leap down into the hole.     A leap whose trajectory peaks, at that tiny fraction of a second where an object moving ballistically, is hanging suspended in the air, right at the moment that the first stream of foam reaches the locale from Blue Beetle's desperate spray-and-pray.     A human-sized Stay-Puft marshmallow woman lands on the floor below. Well, would land on the floor were Booster not in the way.     "Dammit!"     Stay-Puf...Dragonfly's sunglasses fall to the floor and get lost in the foam as she hits Booster full-on, her heeled boots grinding into his kinetic shield. She, thrown off-balance, falls to the ground desperately scraping the foam off of her compound eyes so she can see enough to fight or rescue as the need arises. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Hey, now!" Firefoot calls, 'moonwalking' about the rink. "The DJ didn't say anything about 'couples only' here!" He puts his hands on his hips and boogies, beginning a backwards Russian Cossack-style kick-dancing. With each kick of his foot, a ball of flame soars at the dueling do-gooders. FLOOM! FSHHAW! FWOWZERS! Meanwhile, above the disco, Blue Beetle drops down from his skyhook, landing on the ground outside the front door. He takes aim and blasts the locks with his compressed air gun. Almost immediately afterwards, half a dozen choking patrons burst through the doors, tackling--or collapsing on top of--poor Beetle, followed by a large dark cloud that suddenly belches forth from the sudden space it's given to escape through. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "Ow! Ow! Ow!" The kinetic shield works great against fast-moving threats, but it's almost useless against someone /stepping/ on Booster, and he yelps in pain when Dragonfly gets something tender with a bootheel. "Get-- ow! Stop stepping on me!" he says, scrambling to his feet. <<You know sir, Japanese businessmen pay a great deal of money for-->> "Shut up, Skeets!" Booster says, trying to get the last of the foam from his visor and failing. Fighting blind, he has to rely on his suit's sensors, and he tenses when flaming napalm is flung at Dragonfly's back! "Ack!" he yells, coherently, and throws himself in front of the flames. This is something his suit IS good at dealing with, and he manages to swat the fireballs out of the way, his personal barrier shimmering. Twice, anyway. The third one sticks to his hand, and Booster yelps and shakes his palm violently to try and get the sticky flames off of his fingers. "Ted! How you doing over there, buddy?" he asks, trying to gauge a shot at the villain-- but there are too many civilians nearby to get a clean burst off from his blasters. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     "Alright, I've had about enough of this," Dragonfly says, her voice deadly serious. She stares at Firefoot...well, seems to stare. It's hard to tell what her literal bug eyes are actually looking at. "You," she says, her voice dripping with menace, "have five seconds to surrender before I take you out." Her voice is under control (for a change!). Her facial expression is dead on. Her stance on the floor is perfect. She's obviously been practicing threats.     Pity it's so hard to be taken seriously when you're covered in foam and look like a food mascot.     Firefoot's continued fusilade hits Dragonfly straight in the face with a ball of sticky flame, turning her into ... the offspring of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man and Ghost Rider. And not the kind of offspring you'd get from a loving, tender relationship. More the offspring you'd get as an accidental byproduct of grudge sex. And this GhostPuft mascot is royally pissed.     "That's it!"     One second there's an angry GhostPuft mascot. The next there's a thunderclap as she accelerates full-tilt at Firefoot, the shock of her passing shattering anything glass in the room. Fortunately for Firefoot the combination of foam on her eyes and flames engulfing her head have her miss squishing him. Not so fortunately for him she instead hits the pillar that holds up all the disco paraphrenalia. Including the giant disco ball, mirrors cracked and pulverized, that falls down on his head.     Also not so fortunately, the same pillar holds up the DJ's booth which now slowly starts to collapse. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Firefoot continues to dance about, pirouetting and even briefly performing a Van Damme-esque split before trying to tap-dance in skates. Just then, Dragonfly's hail-mary maneuver manages to take him out, and he drops to the ground as the disco ball collides with, and then breaks to engulf, his head. The DJ, meanwhile, grasps for anything to keep him safe--even though the floor, and walls, of the booth begin to drop out from beneath and around him. He clutches for dear life with one hand to a shelf of records, the other to his microphone. "Why can no one ever resist the allure of the roller disco?!" he cries into his mic. Meanwhile, outside, there's a brief glimpse of movement outside the entrance to the disco. "Huurunnghhhhh ..." Beetle says from beneath a pile of still-breathing, if only semi-conscious, roller disco patrons. "I ... want ... to die ..." he manages to gasp. Still more crawl slowly out the front door, like a weird roller-themed zombie film. At least in the distance, sirens can be heard approaching. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' <<Sir! The booth is collapsing! It's essential to the club's structural integrity and the funky beats are the only thing standing between the dancers and arrhythmic anarchy!>> Skeets squawks, highlighting the collapsing booth in Booster's visor. "Crapsack!" Booster agrees-- but he's still wincing sympathetically at Dragonfly's impact with the pillar. Even for the big Booster Gold, that kind of head-on impact... ow. Not the villain, though. "Sheesh, Skeets," Booster says, zipping past the man. He removes his visor momentarily, pausing to examine the fellow felled by the glittering disco ball. "Disco fever... has claimed one more victim." Punchline delivered, Booster flies to the booth and gets underneath it, and in a very heroic manner (with excellent form), he squats under the edge of the collapsing booth and lifts it upwards, holding it over his head to avert a total collapse. It's realy the suit doing the work, but he does still look cool. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     Dragonfly crawls out of the wreckage she's left scattered and shakes her head. A bit disoriented she looks around at the carnage, trying to spot her foe. Foe disabled she spots instead the wailing DJ.     "I've got you!" she calls, stretching out her arm. Across the room the DJ floats into the air before being gently set down on the floor next to Booster.     "Get out of here!" she shouts at the man. She then looks at the ceiling as a girder snaps. Reflexively her arms go up in a defensive posture. The girder pieces settle on ... nothing. Groaning ominously, but still settled.     "Can you guys evacuate this place? I don't know how long I can hold it together!" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "I-- you? What? -I'M- holding it together! YOU run!" Booster squawks at Dragonfly, indignantly. <<Yeah!>> Skeets adds, buzzing at Dragonfly. <<Mister Booster's the hero here, lady!>> 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' In the middle of the skating rink, Firefoot groans and rolls about, languidly slapping at the disco ball over his head. He's saying something, but it's entirely incomprehensible within the glittering Mysterio cosplay he's recently begun showing off. Outside, Blue Beetle very slowly extracts himself from the near-ton of roller disco patrons that had fallen on top of him. Just as he finishes standing and dusting himself off, he's bowled over by the fleeing DJ. They both drop to the ground in a tangle. "Huurunnghhhhh ..." Beetle groans. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' There's a fairly heated back and forth in the roller rink. Mostly between the two heroes inside, stubbornly attemping to out-hero one another and be the better hero who stays behind and holds up the weight of things while the rink evacuates. In fact the argument continues well after the rink is completely evacuated, Booster and Dragonfly getting increasingly loud and preachy at one another in their attempts to secure the place. "You leave!" "No, YOU leave!" Then the main structural girder /does/ crack and fall, and Booster screams a battle cry that sounds very high ptiched and launches himself at Dragonfly in full flight. He grabs her under one arm, shooting for the exit, and scoops Ted up in the other, and all three shoot out of the front door in a muddled pile of soot, ash, smoke, and that green fire retardant. Booster grunts in pain from under the pile. "Lady, would you /please/ move your foot? That heel's in a very tender spot," he mutters. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     "I should push harder," Dragonfly mutters, but fails to act on the impulse, squirming her way out of the pile to stand on the pavement. She looks back at the building.     "That could have gone a bit better," she decides, "but at least we got all the people out. Did someone remember to pick up the perp?"     She starts to wipe away the traces of foam retardant and soot from her face, carefully wiping her eyes clear so she can see properly. She then stands, fists on hips, in a well-practiced "job well done" pose, facing the crowd. "Everybody OK?..." 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Lady," Blue Beetle interjects, "whatever you're hurting with your heel, please ... /push harder/." He pushes himself over onto his back with one arm, breathing heavily. "You know ... I think ... I /think/ we did, /technically/, put out the fire ..." The Beetle looks around at the various patrons, while two fire trucks, a trio of ambulances, and a police cruiser arrive on scene. "What were you two even /doing/ in there for so long? Trying to get in a game of Pac-Man?" he asks, rubbing his temples. One of the officers approaches cautiously. "Is everyone alright? We've got medical here--" She stops and grimaces. "You two. There's gonna be a /lot/ of paperwork tonight ..." As the officer pinches the bridge of her nose, she spies Dragonfly. "What's with the Michelin Man? New recruit?" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Booster punches Ted in the shoulder, and for his trouble is immediately counterpunched. "Ow!" He punches Ted again, harder. "Ow!" "Ow!" "OW!" The back and forth goes until the officer walks up, with Booster sitting on his butt with his legs out in front of him. Like two schoolboys caught in the middle of a foodfight, he manages to look a little guilty. But he punches Ted once more just for good measure. "/I/ was trying to keep the place from collapsing," Booster tells Ted. "And it's not our fault this time!" he hastily tells the officer. "The... guy, with the fire feet, he... hey, where /is/ he?" Booster asks, looking around. His face falls in dismay as the only sign of Firefoot or Hottoe or whatever his name is, turns out to be a scorched-mark skate trail leading off towards a blinde alley. The officer pinches her brow. "You guys burned down the skating rink and didn't even /catch/ him?" 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     Dragonfly looks down at her foam-puffed body and pinches the bridge of her own nose. "Yeah, new recruit," she mutters. "Call me Tireman." She stares at the skate trail as if pondering ... nah.     "I caught him," she adds, darting a poisonous glance Booster's way, "but a certain someone was so intent on being the hero that holds up the building he forgot being the hero who CATCHES THE GOD-DAMNED PERP!"     That last is shouted somewhat. Where 'somewhat' is in the vein of the Atlantic Ocean being 'somewhat wet'. She turns back to the cop.     "I'm pretty sure that we got everybody out, though, so there's that," she says apologetically. "That's a lot of people not-dead who would otherwise have gone in a particularly unpleasant way." 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Just then, from out of the rubble, crawls a fiend so foul, so fierce, so fabulous, that its head glimmers like the blazing star that was disco itself! It tries to dance a little jig, but the rubble's uneven, and the figure's still wearing roller skates, so instead it topples forward, rolls down the pile of collapsed roller-disco lumber, and lies motionless but breathing at Dragonfly's feet. The police officer seems completely nonplussed. "So that's the big threat, eh?" she asks. Blue Beetle rubs his shoulder and tilts his head to one side. "Yes....?" he asks, inflecting upward at the end while he looks to Booster Gold for confirmation. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Booster blinks at the tire marks. He was /sure/... He looks at Blue Beetle, at Dragonfly, at the officer, back at his friends, and Skeets, then back at the office. "Yes," all four say in chorus. "Well! Job well done, we did good work, people," Booster remarks, getting to his feet. "No need to thank us officer, it's all part of the line of duty," he adds, hitching his britches a little. "When you've been a hero as long as I have, y'know, you realize that sometimes it's the little victories tha--" The ceiling of the rink abruptly collapses, exhaling smoke and fire upwards, and Booster blinks and doesn't look behind him. "I think we should go. Right? C'mon Superbuddies, let's, uh... let's get out of the way of our fine professional firefighters." He starts walking sideways, edging towards a lane of departure. "You guys! The real heroes here," he says, grabbing Ted by the arm and trying to haul him along. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     "Yes. We should leave this to the professionals," Dragonfly says, her acid tone of voice suggesting that her eyes would be narrowed and focused on Booster had they been, you know, human. Then to the officer, "I think we'll just, you know, head off and find other buildings to demolish," she says grimly. "I hear there's a brand new skyscraper that someone shoplifted from..."     She takes to the air, shedding foam in flight, as she gets the Hell out of line of sight, stopping only once clear to watch where Booster and Beetle go to for later following purposes. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' <<She's /totally/ checking you out, sir!>> Skeets tells Booster in a chipper tone, floating ahead of the gold hero. "Really? I mean, duh!" Booster says. "Hey! HEY! You can't just leave the scene!" a senior officer bellows at Ted and Booster. "Crap! CHEESE IT, TED!" Booster yelps-- and he and Ted zoom off into the skyline, heading eastwards! 
}}

1156/Attack of the D-listers!

2017-08-09T00:01:25Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/06/26 |Location=Metropolis Stadium |Synopsis=Booster Gold, Blue Beetle, and Dragonfly try to stop Condiment King and Calendar Man! Things go a..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/06/26
|Location=Metropolis Stadium
|Synopsis=Booster Gold, Blue Beetle, and Dragonfly try to stop Condiment King and Calendar Man! Things go about as well as you'd expect.
|Cast of Characters=1039, 12, 69
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "Sir! Condiment King and Calendar Man-- they've taken over the Metropolis Racetrack!" shouts a young rookie in Metropolis. "...the whole stadium?" asks the Lieutenant. "Well, no. Just the eastern wing of the second level. So a souvenier shop, a deli stand, and...." he flips through his notes. "A janitorial closet." "Those two are Batman villains. Is he availalbe?" the LT asks someone. "Batman's Gotham only. How about the League?" There's some back and forth. Justice League: "Who?" Avengers: "We're busy with real villains." Defenders: "This sounds more like a mental health issues." Suicide Squad: "I'm sorry, but no one is here by that name." The Lieutenant gets to the last name on the list and pinches his brow, heavily. He mutters a profound oath under his breath. He dials the number, already cringing. Booster Gold picks up on the second ring. "SUPERBUDDIES INC., go for Booster!" Five minutes later, Booster Gold and Ted Kord are flying towards the scene of the crime, a glorious blur of blue and gold in parallel! "Dragonfly, this is Booster Gold! Booster Gold to Dragonfly!" Booster says into his wrist communicator-- which Ted has augmented to override every 'mute' option possible on any device in Dragonfly's proximity. "SUPERBUDDIES are go! Condiment King and Calendar Man have occupied the Metropolis Stadium! Rally with me and BLUE BEETLE en route, and we'll give those two LOSERS a sound thrashing!" 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' The Bug's currently on autopilot, and Ted Kord--secretly THE BLUE BEETLE--is sitting on the floor of the ship's cabin, tugging his costume's pants on. "It's the Beetle's time to shine!" he says, clapping his hands together. "I don't know about you, forever-friend, but I've got a feeling that /this/ will be the caper that brings the Superbuddies into the spotlight!" Blue Beetle adds, adjusting his mask as he stands. "Skeets is on streaming video for the adoring public, right?" he asks. "How do I look?" The elastic waistband of Beetle's tightie-whities is sticking out from under his nearly-as-tight costume. Not waiting for an answer, the 'azure insect' grabs his skyhook line and prepares to drop down into the stadium. "Wait'll they get a load of me!" he cackles. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     It's a beautiful day for shopping and people-watching, both of which Nancy is spending her all-too-spare time doing today. So what's on the agenda? Lunch at Calibri's. Slow saunter into Soho to find something eye-catching for the next off chance she gets invited to something non-corporate. Maybe a good afternoon's browse of the fleas. All in all a wonderful way to spen...     Her reverie is interrupted as every mobile device in audible range calls for her hated alter ego. On behalf of the hated Booster Gold, no less.     "Ignore?... or?..."     She sighs and looks around for a place out of view for a few seconds' worth, finds it in a parking garage and, a flash of light, a crack of thunder, and the acrid scent of ozone later she's up in the air in her black tights. Looking very unimpressed.     Hey, at least she didn't have to ditch her shopping.     "Your waistband's showing," she calls out to Blue Beetle as she plummets past him to the ground. "Might wanna do something about that," she adds. "Before the cameras ge... Oh, too late." 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Fortunately, Booster-- and his ego-- will never know how much Dragonfly hates him. He soars past her and grins at the insect-looking heroine, rolling over in mid-flight and showboating a little with one knee and elbow propped against an imaginary surface. "Why, hell-O there," he tells her, with his smarmiest of grins. "Nice of you to join the party!" He blinks at Ted, and waves off Skeets. "Ted! Code 12, buddy!" he mutters at Blue Beetle over the comms-- and then, the three of them SMASH through the skylight, in a totally dramatic entrance that sends glass flying in a cavalcade of light. ACTION HERO POSE TIME! Ted, with his Gadgets! Dragonfly, hovering menacingly! Booster, chest out, full of Canadian pride! He looks around the area, confused. "I-- where are they?" he says, baffled. "There's no one here. The cop said they'd taken over the east wing," he remarks, looking around and missing the giant NORTH WING signage stencilled to the brick behind him. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' The Blue Beetle's entrance is /slightly/ less dramatic than those of his best buddy and their flying acquaintance (does 'frenemy' count yet?), as he crashes through the glass in mid-pants-adjustment. Luckily, he's able to unholster his BB gun before they hit the ground. Like Booster, the Beetle looks around in confusion before the realization hits him. "Booster, you /dummy/! I've been here before. We are definitely in the /west/ wing right now! We've got to make it all the way across the stadium!" He shakes his head with a smug smirk on his face. Then, the Beetle takes off running toward the west wing. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     Dragonfly's nose bridge is going to get squished to a knife's edge today.     "Trust my dragon senses," she says, pointing to the east wing. Where the big, clearly-visible direction sign points. "They're that way. I can ... uh ... sense their malevolant magnetism ... or something." She heads that direction after taking a quick side trip to pick up the Beetle. By the scruff of his neck. "This way ... uh ... prey bug," she mutters under her breath. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Booster looks confused. His Best Pal Forver, galloping towards... one direction. Dragonfly going in the other. Both of them /absolutely certain/ that they're venturing the right way. "But... aren't we... are we..." he says, pointing after Dragonfly, then after Blue, then twisting in a circle. He still misses the big sign. <<Sir, I think you should listen to Miss Dragonfly,>> Skeets ventures. <<She seems to know where she's going, and my compa-->> "Well, that settles it, follow the hot chick!" Booster says, dusting his hands and pushing Skeets away mid-sentence. "Let's go, Dragonlady!" he booms, lifting into the air and flying off in a gold blur. He over accelerates in the narrow corridor and slams into an overhead light, fails to bank, and breaks a display of expensive donors who gave expensive bricks, or something. "I'm right behind you, good amiga!" Booster shouts-- and he starts jogging along at a good clip, hustling as quickly as he can. Condiment King and Calendar Man are having an argument near the food lobby. They have several hostages who look more bored and weary than scared, and the two of them are almost blind to the world. "No, that's-- no! Hulk Hogan was in Muppets from Space with Bill Paxton, who was in Murder the First with Kevin Bacon!" "You IDIOT!" rages Calendar Man at Condiment King. "That was Bill PARETTA who was in Murder the First!" "Don't call me idiot, you flopping lunatic!" Condiment King rages. He aims his squirt gun at Calendar Man. "Or I'll ruin your whole outfit!" Calendar Man gasps. "You wouldn't DARE," he says, grabbing his sonic emitter and aiming it at CK. The hostages just look boreder. One of them actually yawns and checks the time. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' His cheeks red--whether from shame or the sudden burst of physical activity, it's difficult to say--the Blue Beetle slides briefly across the hallway floor before turning 180 degrees to chase after Booster and Dragonfly. "I hate--*huff*--the both--*chuff*--of--*huff*--you!" he sputters out between heaving gasps of air and something that roughly passes for sprinting. Before long, though, he's close enough to hear the villains' argument. Shuffling up to a corner, the gadgeteer peeks around to see and assess the situation. "Booster," the Beetle says with an exasperated sigh, "these morons can't even get a movie title correctly. I mean, it's 'Murder /in/ the First', ugh!" 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     "I'm not with them," Dragonfly apologizes as she passes behind Booster and winces at the damage. The stunned passer-by just nods in blank incomprehension and adopts the better part of valour as a strategy. "No, really, I'm not!" she calls behind her for emphasis. "Please believe me! Make sure people know!"     She glares in Booster's direction and catches up to him as he reaches the food lobby, pausing in mid-air, reflexively "seating" herself cross-legged and observing before making a move.     "OK, this looks like a simple one-two," she opines to Booster. "The threat, such as it is, is in those two armed lunatics. You and I can close that gap before they're aware we're here; take them out of the way of the hostages, maybe take them out completely. Then Beetle can scuttle in behind and start evacuating the hostages, protecting them from stray shots and the like."     She turns her head to see Booster's reaction to her suggestion...     ...only to see his backside as he floats forward, posing heroically for Skeets' camera, smiling broadly before saying, "Evil-doers BEWARE! The Superbuddies have a date to clean the stains of your vileness!" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Condiment King and Calendar Man stare at Booster, just... agog. "Is he for real?" one of the civilians asks them. Calendar Man shrugs at her a little helplessly, and she shrugs back. "Wow, what kind of D-listers are they sending?" Condiment King asks, half raising his gun at Booster. A little blorble of red ketchup hits the ground. "D-lister? I'm BOOSTER GOLD! And these are the SUPERBUDDIES!" Booster says, swinging a hand at his allies. "We're the real deal, chief! We're heroes! We're hip! We're here to kick butt!" <<And get it all on YouTube!>> Skeets adds, swirling around in a gold-plated blur. "Woah, I'm on YouTube?" Condiment King asks, jaw dropping. "That's awesome!" "You amateur!" Calendar Man barks-- and he raises his megaphone at the trio. Sound waves of incredible percussive force wave out at them, bending the air, and Booster steps back with a grunt of surprise as his force field fails to mitigate all but the bulk of the impact. "....!" he yells at Blue Beetle-- but nothing can be heard! 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Although Blue Beetle nods intently in response to Dragonfly's sound tactics, once Booster begins his play, all the strategy's thrown out the window. "Come on, lady, let's do this!" he screams before running out toward the hostages. The Beetle's delayed rush means that he misses the Calendar Man's sonic barrage. However, Blue Beetle provides his own, firing his air gun wildly as he leaps into the air, stepping onto a small table and then diving for cover behind a food stand. *POOM* *POOM* *POOM* goes the air gun. Napkin containers explode. Salt shakers go flying. Nacho cheese defies gravity. The hostages are coated in snacks. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     "I'm not with th..." The rest of that sentence is cut off by the sound waves that send Dragonfly soaring back into the stairwell as she is taken by surprise. Smashing upside-down into the railing, she's momentarily pinned, embedded into the metal bars that have bent to form-fit her like her outfit. "That's IT!" she yells, unheard over the unholy noise, but hey, that one deaf hostage can almost certainly read her lips, right? Even when upside-down?     She gestures with one arm and the force blast released her, directing to each side of her like rain hitting an umbrella. She stares at Calendar Man as she starts to slowly fly toward him, removing her glasses and fixing her bug eyes on him as she approaches.     "I hope you're not too attached to those limbs." 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Ted's barrage is met with the Condiment King's cannon of saucy surprises, and almost in slow-motion, he leaps in the same direction as Ted does. *PLURT* *PLURT* *PLURT* goes the gun (albeit a little muffled) and a stream of ketchup, mayo, and mustard flies at Ted. All three miss. The mayo sticks a salt shaker to the wall-- a glue projectile! The mustard slaps against a tile and hisses with a bubble of carbolic acid! The ketchup splatters against something and does nothing important. It looks like ketchup. Condiment King and Ted engage each other in a wild gunfight from less than ten feet away, hiding behind an upturned table and a rolling souvenier cart, respectively. It's a gunfight for the ages! Mostly because neither of them are really taking the time to aim, and it's just making an absolutely ungodly mess as they shoot at one another. Booster staggers as the sonic gun stops ringing his ears, and Calendar Man aims it at Dragonfly. "...!" Booster says-- but it seems he's been muted by the weapon. Heroically, he flings himself in front of Dragonfly, holding back the surge of sound with one outstretched hand like he's trying to force a cap back on a fire hydrant. He leaaaans into it dramatically, his force field flickering. "...!" he says. "..." "...." "..." He makes an impassioned gesture at Dragonfly. "...." And he points at Calendar Man. Whatever he's saying sure looks like a roundly resonate speech. Skeets looks at Dragonfly, and makes a dippy-bob gesture that resembles a shrug at her. "..., ...., ...," Booster yells, his chest swelling-- almost close enough to grab Calendar Man, still speaking to Dragonfly--- "..and look, I mean, let's just get some wine, some Netflix, and just see where the eveni-- oh, am I back on?" he asks, blinking as he can hear his own voice again. "Oh, that's good." Calendar Man stares at Booster, then looks at Dragonfly. "Please, /please/, if one of you is gonna arrest me-- don't let it be him," the older villain tells her, mustering as much dignity as possible. Condiment King frowns at his gun from cover, and whacks it, and then curses under his breath. "Hey, Blue Guy! Time out! My gun's not working!" he requests, fiddling with the weapon. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah, I'll take the collar here," Dragonfly says. Her tone is dead even. Devoid of mercy, but devoid of the momentary rage as well. Nobody deserved being collared by Booster Gold. "Boost, darling," she says with a saccharine smile. "Your buddy needs help. You've cowed this one enough for li'l ol' me to handle I think."     Her head swivels over to gaze at Calendar Man. "He'll behave now, won't he? Because he doesn't want his limbs rearranged in impromptu public surgical procedures."     She leans casually on a concrete pillar, clenching her hand briefly and pulling it away with a large chunk of reinforced concrete inside. You can still even see a piece of snapped rebar.     "So you'll be good, right, sugar?" she asks the man with a tight, mirthless smile.     Behind her a crack spreads out from the too-large chunk she took out of the pillar. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' From his own cover, the Blue Beetle weighs his options quietly for a moment. "I just have to remember what my former mentor, Professor Dan Garrett, once told me," he mutters. IN TED'S MIND, SOME TIME AGO... "Ted, my boy," Dan Garrett says, holding a pipe in his hand, "if there's one thing I can absolutely tell you from my time as the Blue Beetle...if a criminal tells you they want a time out, what they really want is a punch. In the face. And if their name is stupid, kick 'em in the ol' mommy-daddy place, too." "Thanks, Dan!" a younger Ted Kord says cheerfully, eyes wide in awe of his hero. BACK TO NOW... "Uhh...yeah, sure thing, pal!" Blue Beetle says, before launching himself over the table he's hiding behind to try and kick Condiment King squarely in the teeth. While he's in midair, he also aims his air gun at the villain's crotch. As the Beetle begins his move, however, he has to balance himself momentarily on a puddle of ketchup. Will it be his untimely undoing?! 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "Young lady, I--" Calendar Man's eyes bulge. Not at the casual superstrength-- but the crack creeping up the concrete pillar. "That's-- that's a load bearing beam," he says, backing up an alarmed pace. The crack grows longer. And longer. And louder. "Gee whiz, thanks pal," Condiment King says, standing up with relief. "I think it's the valv-HRRRRK," he gasps, eyes bulging behind his mask. He falls over backwards, holding his face. "MY MOUF! MY MOUF! YOU HUMFERUFFER!" he cries out, rolling back and forth in visible pain with a cracked jaw. He whimpers and moans, clearly knocked out of the fight by Ted's dirty pool. Booster's jaw drops at Blue Beetle. "TED!" he bellows at his friend. "The guy was SURRENDERING! Do you not know what Time Out means?" he asks, dumbstuck. He clucks his tongue and gives Ted a look of /supreme/ disapproval. The ketchup smears a little under Ted's foot. Somewhere, Chekov sighs in relief. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Perplexed, Blue Beetle looks back and forth between Booster Gold and Condiment King. "Whaaaat?!" he cries, confused. "The guy wanted a detente! Now he'll need...a /dentist/!" The Blue Beetle stands proudly, hands on his hips, while he poses for the cameras. Then, he pivots back toward the Condiment King, and he slips on the ketchup, landing on his rear. "Ow!" the hero cries. His air gun goes off in the Condiment King's direction. Again. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     "Don't even START trying to run away, buster!" Dragonfly exclaims irritably. She reaches forward to grab Calendar man before he can scramble out of arm's reach, pulling him up to stare him eye to eye. "This is not shaping up to be my best day and I may just start taking it out on other people!"     It's probably for the best that she did this as a piece of the high arch above the food court crashes down where the man would have been had he been allowed to scramble back. And, for that matter, where Dragonfly is. A man-sized chunk of concrete hits the back of her head with sizable force, scattering debris like shrapnel around the food court.     "Oops! Time to evacuate!" she shouts, keeping her grip on the front of Calendar Man's costume while ignobly grabbing as many people as she can with an arm gesture and just sending them sliding along the floor outside of the danger zone.     Another piece of concrete hits her in the head. This time, however, it isn't ignored and doesn't spall into a hundred pieces. It takes her down like a pole-axed steer as she drops atop the villain in her charge.     Condiment King whines in a suspiciously high voice, "Now that was just GRATUITOUS!" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "No-- the-- concrete-- young lady!" The Calendar Man looks more and more panicked as the rooftop starts to come down around them. The hostages get clear, and the rest are flung far by Dragonfly's telekinesis. They start running, then screaming, as the sections around the little area collapse in a chain. Shoddy contracting combined with casual destriction seem to be doing more than a little bit of damage to the structural supports, and a chain reaction drops more and more ceiling. Booster soars forward, grabbing Ted by the back of his belt-- except he grabs a handful of Ted's tighty-whities, still sticking out-- and hauls on Condiment King's ankle. "Oh for the love of--" he groans at Dragonfly as she drops, too, and lands atop her. Just as the ceiling collapses for fifty yards in every direction, Booster shoots out of an expanding dust cloud with Condiment King in his left hand, Blue Beetle hauled along with the atomic wedgie of a lifetime, and his sturdy gold-plated thighs wrapped around Dragonfly's midsection. They land in a giant heap, right next to Calendar Man and the detective putting handcuffs on him. Booster coughs twice, looking around blearily-- then holds up Condiment King at one of the cops nearby. "Book 'em, Danno!" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Somewhere, Chekov starts laughing maniacally. And you thought we'd forgotten! 
}}

1237/Doctor. Bug. Airship. Add joke.

2017-08-08T23:59:31Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/07/01 |Location=West Harlem, Manhattan |Synopsis=Doctor Mid-Nite and Blue Beetle collaborate on SCIENCE! |Cast of Characters=1061, 12 |pretty=..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/07/01
|Location=West Harlem, Manhattan
|Synopsis=Doctor Mid-Nite and Blue Beetle collaborate on SCIENCE!
|Cast of Characters=1061, 12
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1061|Dr. Mid-Nite (1061)}} has posed:'''     Word had gone out on the wire, small retro-tech boards in the deep web that are used by the minds of the masked vigilante crowd. It's all done with pseudonyms and hidden connection information, but over time people have gotten to know each other. At times a case study will pop up, information with identifying intel obscured but giving enough for the big brains to get an angle on what's going down. For the most part the user #12AMMD had kept to himself, though some of the people who have met him before could identify who he was, he didn't really hide it too much. Oftentimes he needed another set of eyes to look at something, and what might have drawn a few eyes was his current operation.     #12AMMD: case. toxin vector. possible mutagenic. delivery system medieval. need set of eyes attached to a brain ideally. PM info.     And that was it, but it was enough for the two men to connect, to make the rendesvouz and so the time had been set. Midnight, of course, over Harlem since the cloud cover will be viable for stealth air operations. And at the appointed hour, Dr. Mid-Nite's airship was hovering silently in that cloud bank, its silhouette disguised with the subtle stealth systems. Invisible to air traffic control and even to sensors, if only obscured to the naked eye... it held its position high above, the upper airlock open and ready to receive a visito.     Meanwhile, inside, the good Doctor has his cowl tossed back and is busy poring over a multi-function display that feeds him data on the side of the research chamber on the main deck. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' As silently as Mid-Nite's own ship was the Blue Beetle's 'Bug' craft, a portal opening on its underbelly to allow the pilot to lower himself via skyhook toward his colleague's ride. User #%317336.40F was not going to miss the request provided. And if there was one thing he knew, it was that he had a set of eyes attached to a brain. "Knock knock," the Beetle says as he enters Mid-Nite's ship cabin. "I've got to say. The 'medieval' qualifier /really/ sold it for me. I trust we can use modern equipment to analyze it, though, right? Not sure how big you are on anachronistic dissonance. I only ask because I've got a, uh, friend who won't shut up about it." 

:'''{{#var:1061|Dr. Mid-Nite (1061)}} has posed:'''     "Kord! Come in." The voice lifts and once Beetle's made the clambering climb down the ladder and into the main research area, the Doctor turns around to offer greeting. It's not the usual fare that Ted's probably used to, considering a good chunk of the displays, equipment, and sensor are geared for an individual who does not have eyesight, but when guests are coming over adjustments are made so the data can be granted in a dual-presentation.     "Ah, as to that." He steps over and there's no hesitation, hand's extended for the other man to find and grip, then they shake a few times and the man with the dark glasses nods his head a few times. "Medieval in that... well, it's barbaric." He turns his head to the side slightly, as if looking over Ted's shoulder. "Let me give you the storyline, and I'll bring up the data as we go. Alright?"     He pauses then turns his head aside, "Crap, you want a drink? I think I got tomato juice." He grimaces, "Don't do much entertaining."     But if the offer is accepted he'll step over to where he keeps the mini-fridge (no frills there) and pulls out the drink, offering it before moving on.     "Alright, you know the whole thing with New York, Gotham. Each side of the river."     His hand gestures to the side and the gauntlet he wears flares a small light slightly and then the display behind him springs to life to present a map of the two cities so close together. "Russians on one side, Ukrainians on the other. Bad news. Constant hate." 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "No need for a drink, please," Beetle responds. "Especially not anything that might look like the gore I anticipate you showing me." He follows his host and pauses to look at the map. "Sure, sure. I mean, I /want/ to say 'it's all Greek to me,' given the barbaric nature of the situation..." He pauses a moment, pursing his lips. "But I have the feeling that you might look down on such a tasteless joke." Blue Beetle rubs his costumed forehead. "Sorry, sorry. I've just been spending too much time recently with a complete moron, and now I feel like it's rubbed off on me. Russia. Ukraine. Bad blood. Got it. Please, continue." 

:'''{{#var:1061|Dr. Mid-Nite (1061)}} has posed:'''     A snort comes from the Doctor as he shakes his head, though to be fair, that is close to a laugh at the comment. But then he presses on with the presentation at hand. "There'd been a balance for the last three years, both sides had their territories, things had been going well, all of them being complete bastards not withstanding."     He taps the display and it shifts showing the Russians making inroads into Gotham, "Something shifts the balance. Boom, Ukrainians start dying. High ranking monsters who are untouchable normally, guys who are so paranoid that they don't even go to the bathroom without four bodyguards just in case their peckers attack them."     There's a flicker on the screen showing four separate big wigs all with big Xs. "I got hands on with one after the fact," Images of the fallen are displayed, they all have elements of utter toxicity marked on their forms. There are small electronic swirls over points of importance. "All of them showing total organ failure in a window of say thirty two to thirty eight minutes upon introduction of the toxic compound."     "After the first one, they start to key to it. Somebody poisoned their buddy, they take steps. These aren't idiots. They go full hard core hands on food screening, inebriants, dwellings, family members. They even went whole hog on only using the most meticulous of female companions, as it were."     He coughs a bit out of politeness' sake. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "I see," Beetle responds, eyes narrowed in focused attention. He folds his arms across his chest, listening to his companion while closely scrutinizing each image displayed. "And you've made sure it wasn't their genitals that murdered them?" He glances sidelong at Mid-Nite for a minute before chortling. "Couldn't help it." Then, he shakes his head and his smile vanishes. "Oh, God. What's happening to me?" the Beetle asks quietly. After a moment of a seemingly crushing realization, Ted shakes his head and clears his throat. "Game face, game face," he mumbles. "So ... when you say /medieval/, are you thinking some sort of dormant disease or poison or the like?" 

:'''{{#var:1061|Dr. Mid-Nite (1061)}} has posed:'''     "When I say medieval... was when I found the first group of corpses." Dr. Mid-Nite's tone shifts a bit as he frowns, but he turns his head slightly to address Ted more directly. "Long story short," He says as a plethora of images flash by, showing at first some women, a few are dead in a hospital.     "I found that some women had been reported with similar symptoms, one was brought in still alive then died while the ER team tried to administer treatment. Did some digging, they were all prostitutes. All with connections to the Ukrainians."     He pushes a button on his gauntlet again and shifts the display to a chemical formula with an unknown element in a chemical cocktail, he points towards it and says. "It turned out that the Russians would be dosing groups of women with several extremely toxic compounds coupled with this... carrier element I am calling it. They would apply this mix to a group of women. Most of them it would kill, one of them would have the necessary genetic makeup to endure the introduction of the compound. From that point on she would be extremely toxic to anyone she would trade bodily fluids with. Eventually their immune system would fail and they would suffer the fates of the marks they were aimed at."     Another click and a display shows the sequence of events from start to finish, all of the one woman who had made it to the hospital. It starts at arrival via human trafficking, introduction of the compound, then her introduction into the gang as a 'present' of some kind, and then her mark dying with her passing several hours later.     "What is stymieing me is the unknown element. What is the carrier that ensures the delivery? I am starting to think it may be metahuman in nature." 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Ah," Beetle responds. "I ... see." He tilts his head slightly to one side as he says that, and he looks to Mid-Nite. "I've got to ask--how do you put these presentations together? I can't imagine there's useful alt text for these particular images..." Blue Beetle trails off. "No, never mind. Sorry. I'm distracting." "Okay," he adds with a sigh. "Do you have any indicator that it's definitely bodily fluids? What about something even more innocuous, like a perfume or other pheromone?" The Beetle begins slowly pacing back and forth. "That said, we can't necessarily rule out bodily fluids, either. Could be some sort of sudden-onset obliteration of human immune systems. Mutating bacteria? Something radioactive? Hell," he adds, throwing his hands up to emphasize the speculative nature of his statement, "the invading cells could have gained sentience." 

:'''{{#var:1061|Dr. Mid-Nite (1061)}} has posed:'''     A nod is given as he tilts his head at the comment, then smirks. "Actually I post on Reddit asking for help under my alt account, 'IRLGurl'." He gives a nod as if that solves many of the world's problems, and hey it might.     But then he gives a grunt a he motions towards the display to the side of the room, where a toxin screening of several of the victims are on a monitor. He touches a hand into the 'display' that he uses, holding it over the series of variable height icons that allows him to perceive a series of information fairly rapidly. "Airborne would have had a higher exposure rate. At least once it's introduced to one of the young women. I feel like... like there's a step before to prime them as a delivery system. Now /that/ step." He turns to the side to look over Blue Beetle's shoulder, "That step could very well be airborne. I am just missing that particular part of the puzzle."     He spreads his hands, "If we find that, then we could put a kibosh to the whole thing. Unfortunately I haven't been able to get to far into the compound, it's confounding me. I thought maybe you could take a sample back with you and examine, tell me what you come up with."     He takes a deep breath, "I had thought it might perhaps be some sort of... meta power of some kind? A defense mechanism? I don't know. And honestly I am getting close to being exhausted. I'm going to need some downtime."     He tilts back towards Ted, "I thought you could maybe come at it with a fresh point of view while I finally get some sleep." 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' In response to Mid-Nite's social media revelation, the Beetle nods. "Makes sense," he says as if immediately able to accept this explanation. "Doc," Blue Beetle says with a smile, "you don't have to worry about the hard sell. You know I've got your back." He pats Mid-Nite's shoulder and nods again. "I'll certainly see what I can do. I know my specialties are more in the 'engineering' spheres than those of the 'medical sciences,' but I may have a few pieces of equipment that could help." "What kinds of guinea pigs have you been using for your previous hypotheses? Are symptoms only apparent in humans?" he asks. "Or mammals of a broader sort?" 

:'''{{#var:1061|Dr. Mid-Nite (1061)}} has posed:'''     "From what I can tell, the carrier is immune to whatever toxins are introduced to her body so long as she's affected by the carrier compound. It's once that is flushed from their bloodstream that the hindered toxins become volatile again." He rubs the back of his neck absently, frowning as his brow furrows. "Sorry, fuzzy headed. But all my research is..."     The blind man turns and extends a hand behind him to one of the storage racks, counting from the top and then the left until he finds the small drive he's looking for. "Here, feel free to make a copy if needs be. Also some really sweet cat videos are on there."     He turns back and holds the drive out in the palm of his hand, waiting for Beetle to take it. "You can make use of the facilities here, but I figure you'll be more comfortable in your own lab." 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' The blue-clad hero nods. "Yeah. No offense, but you know how it is. Everything's just more comfortable when it's your stuff, and you know where to reach for a particular item, and so on, and so on." Beetle begins assembling a set of samples and relevant data to take with him, but he pauses to stare at Mid-Nite for a moment. "Let me ask you something, Doc...how long have you been feeling so tired. Would you say 'tired'? Or perhaps 'unwell'?" He clears his throat. "Let me ask even more plainly, actually. Should we be quarantined?" 

:'''{{#var:1061|Dr. Mid-Nite (1061)}} has posed:'''     "No." But there's a pauses as he can probably /see/ the gears whirring in Dr. Mid-Nite's mind, but then he adds with sureness. "No. The toxins are non infectious and the carrier has a short life span. No evidence of a dormant state." He gives a short sharp nod with a grunt.     "My tiredness is pure weakness of the flesh. I've clocked..." He touches a hand to one of the displays, but then says simply, "Too many hours without rest." Instead of the number. He furrows his brow and then turns back towards Ted, "Are you all set? Sure you don't want that tomato juice?" 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' With a nod, the Blue Beetle gathers up the materials in his arms. "I'm set, I think. You should definitely get some rest." He walks back toward the airlock, but stops to turn around for a moment. "Doc, it still might be safe to stay locked in here for a bit. Just in case ... whatever this is ... got airborne. At least for however long it's supposed to run its course. I promise to do the same in the Bug." Beetle grins. "Even if I would love to get Booster sick as a dog." 

:'''{{#var:1061|Dr. Mid-Nite (1061)}} has posed:'''     "Hah!" The Doctor smirks as he turns away from his guest, starting to feel his way along a table and then towards a portal in the back of the ship. "Give him all my love and kisses and all that crap, and tell him he's still verboten from the airship. Right? Right."     But having said that the older man stops in the portal, tossing a nod towards the man. "See this is why I need a sidekick. Could get some sleep and put the lil bugger to researching. I'll see if Bats can spare one of his." Another wave is given, and after that he disappears from view.     "Fly safe, Kord!" And then the door closes behind him, leaving Blue Beetle the run of the airship. 
}}

1317/Uncle Booster Wants YOU! ... To Work For It

2017-08-08T23:58:43Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/07/16 |Location=Hackensack, NJ |Synopsis=Booster Gold and Blue Beetle attempt to hold auditions for their as-yet-unnamed superhero team. |Cast..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/07/16
|Location=Hackensack, NJ
|Synopsis=Booster Gold and Blue Beetle attempt to hold auditions for their as-yet-unnamed superhero team.
|Cast of Characters=12, 69, 1039, 1098
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "STOP THE PRESSES!" Blue Beetle's voice rings out over the phone, his tone urgent. "Sir, we do everything online these days. There's no money in journalism. But, at any rate, there are no presses to stop. What's the emergency?" "The world needs to know--the Superbuddies are having auditions!" "Sir, please don't waste my time again." The woman on the other end hangs up the phone. MEANWHILE, AT THE SAME TIME... Messages go out to the recent acquaintances of Blue Beetle & Booster Gold. Messages of great import! Those messages? 'meet me @ giant eagle in hackensack 911 asap xoxo booster' At that very instant, Booster Gold--and his eternal companion Blue Beetle--put down paperweights on the folding table they've set up in a parking lot of a Giant Eagle grocery store. "My cousin manages this place," Beetle says. "We should be fine. I just hope it doesn't get too crowded." 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     Dragonfly thunders in from the sky, a distant sonic boom showing how seriously she took the summons. The fact that it is distant showing that she's learned to stop breaking windows.     "What is it?" she asks, looking around for a threat or a crime or, well, anything except a folding table with paperweights. "Is there some kind of a crisis? Mole-men? Not that I had anything to do with that incident! Robbery? You got some dirt on a villain?"     She looks at Booster, then at Blue. "So, c'mon, spit it out. What's up?" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "It's TRYOUTS!" Booster tells Nancy. Resplendent in blue and obnoxious gold plating, he spreads his hands, grinning at her. "Well, formal ones. I mean, SOME people are already lookin' pretty good for the team," he says, with a cheeky wink and grin, snappointing at her. "But, like, we figured we should do this formally. You know?" There's a line. It's a long line. And it's a motly crew of Z-list heroes that look like they took fifth place at a cosplay convention. The Bic shows up, a lighter in each hand. Captain Corelli's Mandolin-- a man with a stringed guitar that he claims can cause mild headaches. As far as anyone can tell, it is true. The Flash, who insists that he came up with the name first; and who tops out a blistering thirty-five miles per hour. Booster takes his seat next to Ted. "Who's first, Tedd-- I mean, Blue Beetle?" he says, dropping his voice to an authoritarian pitch. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Giving an annoyed look to his colleague, the Blue Beetle sighs and looks at his clipboard. "First up is ... let's see ... 'Vomit Johnson'." A large man walks up and pukes into a bucket he's brought with him. "Is it, like, acid vomit?" the Beetle asks. "No. But the stench will knock out ANYONE in a matter of minutes," Johnson replies. "Sounds /great/," Blue Beetle says, clearly unconvinced. "Should we work in Dragonfly?" he asks, turning to Booster. "Hey!" someone in the line shouts. "No cuts, no butts, no coconuts!" 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     "Oh fer...!" Dragonfly is fuming, and it's not clear if this is because of the waste of time the whole "tryouts" thing represents or if it's because some Z-grade types think they could stop her from cutting into line. The line she doesn't even want to be a part of.     Stupid pride wins the day.     "OK, get out of my way," she says, walking from the back of the line forward, gently lifting people aside and depositing them out of her path. Except for the icky ones like Vomit Johnson or Mucilage Man who get carefully lifted out of the way mentally. "Look, if I'm going to be wasting my time here, let's at least waste as little of it as possible! What am I trying out for and why would I want to?" she asks as she reaches the head.     She spins to look at someone who put up too loud a protest. "SHUT UP AND STAY BEHIND ME!" she bawls.     Yep. Stupid pride for the win. Emphasis on stupid. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' "Well, the who-- uhoh, she's comin'," Booster mutters back at Ted, behind one hand. She looks piiiiisssed. He gets to his feet, holding his hands up for calm and to absolutely no effect. Her question, though, is the sort of prompt Booster loves, and he floats six feet into the air (to a chorus of 'woah' and 'nice' and 'Hey, she cutted!') "Ladies. Gentlemen. You're here today, because-- well-- you love justice. You love America. Or, Canada," Booster concedes. "But you want to protect the innocent. Help people! Make a difference!" he says, the crowd muttering asset as he speaks. "You want to rise up and be part of the SOLUTION! Part of a TEAM! And maybe make SIX PERCENT MERCHANDISING!" he shouts, ringing his voice around. A few fists go up, but mostly people go 'huh?' "...GO SUPERBUDDIES!" Booster shouts, to sporadic and confused applause. "Hi. Ken Tremendous," the next participant says, walking past Dragonfly and up to Beetle. He runs his hand through his amazing head of hair. "I can fit an entire hockey puck in my mouth." 

:'''{{#var:1098|Plastic Man (1098)}} has posed:''' There are times when even the darkest night must feel the burn. The burn of a new dawn. A new age. A new something that probably shouldn't be considered something to pay attention to but whatever... it's certainly going to make a bit of an entrance. When one of those aforementioned and barely paid attention to, but just enough screen time to have been glimpsed by the eagle-eyed, paperweights leaps up and off the table, that's probably cause for some sort of an alarm. An alarm that actually appears in the air as the paperweight unfolds into the classic hammer and bell alarm that clangs loudly to get everyone's attention. As gravity takes over and the descent towards the ground happens, the alarm turns into a bullhorn and proceeds to announce: "Ladies and Gentlemen! Boys and Squirrels! Women, Children and Loch Ness Monsters... BEHOLD! The last loser you'll ever need to see! The only one worth his weight in mold! The Pliable! The Punctual!" Dramatic Pause. "PLASTIC MAN!" The bullhorn turns the rubbery hero as he lands on the ground and throws his arms open nice and wide, buffing his chest out with dramatic flair! Across his massive chest is the APPLAUSE word that's pulsating with each beat of his heart that doesn't exist anymore! Oh boy. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Oh god, oh god, oh god," Blue Beetle hisses through gritted teeth, cringing as Dragonfly approaches. "Thanks, Tremendous Ken," he says to the poor sod who's placed himself between the two recruiters and the angry superheroine. "You're on a short list, for sure." Attempting to look past Dragonfly, Beetle swallows a lump in his throat and checks his clipboard again. "Is there a, ah ... Kickpuncher here? Please? ... I hope?" His questions are asked more and more quietly. "Hiiiii ... Dragonfly," the gadgeteer groans. "Please don't murder me--" His words are cut off by the sudden and, thankfully, loud arrival of Plastic Man. Eyes wide, Ted looks to Booster. "Thank god," he mouthes silently. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     Dragonfly is momentarily taken aback by Plastic Man's arrival, an arrival that interrupts what was apparently going to be her attempt to prove that Tremendous Ken could fit far more than a single hockey puck in his mouth if only he tried hard enough. Instead the man with incredible hair is gracelessly tossed backward out of the way behind Dragonfly as she gapes at Plastic Man.     "Now see?" she says, looking over her shoulder, "that's two people now who outclass you so badly you're barely visible from their rarefied heights."     She follows the advice on the sign, slow-clapping ironically, but not hostilely, at the entrance.     "Man, you've GOT to show me how to do entrances like that," she says to the newcomer. "I mean my role models have been pretty lousy up to now. And, worse, they've sometimes been Booster Gold."     She just had to dig in, didn't she?     "Dragonfly," she says, extending her hand for a handshake. "I fly, break things, and can't be broken. I'm not with them." That last with a vague gesture Booster Gold's and Blue Beetle's way with her off hand. 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Well. Color Booster *expletive deleted* impressed. Following the stunned silence, he breaks into applause. "WOW! That is AWESOME!" he hoots, clapping his gloves together. As soon as Eel produces a hand, Booster shakes it vigorously. "That-- MAN! Wow! What a great superpower! Shapeshifting, huh? That's crazy! Full on shape shifting, WOW. Ted! Ted! Didja see that? Man, put him on the TOP of the list!" Booster says, to a chorus of envious grumbles from the remaining applicants in line. "This is Dragonfly, she's sort of our 'hanger-on'," Booster tells Plastic Man, jerking a thumb at Dragonfly. "She's pretty good in a fight, but she keeps acting like she doesn't wanna BE on the Superbuddies-- and yet, she keeps showing up at emergencies!" "'tween you and me, she's got a little crush on the Brazilian Speedster, who's at home sleeping off a cold one. But I think it's because she's not over me," he tells Plastic, speaking with a hand behind his mouth. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Oh, it's totally impressive," Blue Beetle nods, a pained smile on his face. He lifts a hand to his mouth and leans over to Booster. "What about Alph-Ray and Usan-Say?" he whispers, perhaps a bit too audibly. Then, he clears his throat. "Dragonfly, I'm glad that you responded to the audition call, but I'm just not sure it's fair to everyone if you stomp to the front of the line like this. I mean, you've got ... promising? ... up-and-comers like The Grater or Trash Collector here." Beetle tries to smile again, although it's even more clearly forced. "And you don't want to take that away from them ... right?" He raises his hands, shrugging, a real 'what can you do?' gesture. 

:'''{{#var:1098|Plastic Man (1098)}} has posed:''' Plastic Man's chest turns into a t-shirt that reads I'm With Stupider and a giant arrow pointing up to his head. A head that now says 'Stupider' across the expanded forehead that Plastic Man is sporting right now. He doesn't seem to be bothered by any of the changes he's making as it's always better to know his limits than to be worried about being impressive. There's enough hands to go around as Dragonfly, Booster Gold and Blue Beetle all get a Mickey Mouse Gloved handshake at the same time. All the while a couple of arms extend from his back with hands that are making the 'Shoo!' motion towards everyone else that has decided to come and try to try out. He knows he just killed this audition and so the moment those handshakes are done, he's spinning off to the side for another performance. Standing on the folding table now, Plastic Man's in a long red gown that looks like it belongs on Jessica Rabbit. In fact, he looks like Jessica Rabbit... holding an Oscar that looks like Booster Gold. "Thank you, thank you. Um." Jessica Plastic starts to tear up as she works on her speech. "First of all, I'd like to thank the man upstairs. He always let me know just how loud I was singing by stomping on his floor and caving my ceiling in. I'd also like to thank Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen for providing this dress I'm wearing. Osh Kosh Bagosh this is amazing!" He's all tears of joy and a huge rack as he finishes his speech. "I'd like to dedicate this Goldie to everybody that says they'll never amount to anything. You're right. Until you buy a calculator. Then you can amount to anything you want! Thank you! Thank you so much!" Another whirlwind of red, yellow and black and Plastic Man is a giant heart behind Booster Gold and Dragonfly. His face pops right out of the center of the heart to speak. "Next time on Love Connection... these two crazy kids do the only thing they know how to do. Date...." Dramatic Pause Again. "OTHER PEOPLE!" Plastic Man leaps from behind them and throws himself back into his normal(ish) shape and poses once again. "So. Questions. Do I get the part? How much does it pay? Are we /sold/ on Superbuddies or can I pitch other names? Also, I don't do windows and I need every other weekend off to spend time with my kid. Deal? Deal." Mobster Plastic Man pops up out of nowhere. "FUGGEDDABBOUDIT!" God. He never stops. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     "Look, let's get this little sham over with so the people wearing grown-up's undies can talk."     Dragonfly looks around the parking lot and the building it's next to. She spots a pair of dumpsters in the distance and gestures. One of them comes sailing toward the tryouts, hovering in the air a moment before landing with a loud clang on the ground. She turns and faces the line behind her.     "OK, this is how it's going to work," she says...     Her train of thought is derailed by Plastic Man's octopus-like handshake and subsequent antics which she observes with slack-jawed amazement. Her mouth closes with an audible clack.     "This is how it's going to work," she says again, after shaking her head and trying to focus. "See this dumpster here?" She picks it up. "It's a regular dumpster. Pretty normal in every regard." She crumples it up into a ball roughly the size of two beach balls. "Anybody who wants to get in this lineup ahead of me just has to try. It'll be your tryout. You try to get ahead of me. I try to put you into this dumpster." Which dumpster? The other one that has just come sailing to crash in front of her. The one she tosses the remains of the first dumpster into.     "I know what you're thinking," she says. "You're thinking, 'hey, worst thing that happens is I get put into a dumpster', right? Wrong. 'Cause once I'm finished, I'm going to do to this second dumpster what I did to the first. While. You're. Inside."     She faces the crowd, her face dead serious. Her sunglasses come off, revealing her insect-like compound eyes. Her other hand rests in a fist on her hip.     "Who wants to try out now?" 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Booster is silent. Ted is silent. Everyone is silent. A twelve year old girl walks up to Dragonfly. She is tiny and precious, with straight black hair and deep brown eyes. Her round cheeks fill out clear Asiatic features. She's wearing coveralls over a Dora the Explorer shirt. She stares up at Dragonfly fearlessly. "Me!" she says, jabbing a thumb at herself. "They call me The Mighty Hic!" she explains, with an adorably fierce expression that is just as terrifying as it is heart melting. She has a stuffed Wonder Woman doll under one arm. "Oh man, Ted, this is bad," Booster mutters. "I've seen enough movies to know that it never works out when a little kid shows up and picks a fight. Prepare for imminent cheesing." The Mighty Hic narrows her eyes at Dragonfly even more. "You're a /bully/," she says. A loooot of the local heroes back up five paces. Most of them look genuinely concerned at her words. "Hic... sweetie... m-maby this--" The little girl whips her head around and glaaaaares at The Milkman, who apologizes and fades carefully back into the crowd. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' The Blue Beetle responds to the escalating situation by slowly sliding behind Booster Gold. "Your force field can protect us both, right? I'm too young to die, B.G.," he whispers. Meanwhile, a grocery store employee bisects the audition queue by maneuvering a line of shopping carts back toward the store. "Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me," he repeats a dozen times. "Anyone who takes on The Mighty Hic will also have to take on Papi Chulo!" a hulking man in a lucha mask says, smashing one fist into the palm of his other hand. Someone in the tryout line coughs awkwardly. 

:'''{{#var:1098|Plastic Man (1098)}} has posed:''' Plastic Man is sitting next to Booster Gold and Blue Beetle with his best Simon Cowell on. "Brilliant. Bloody Brilliant." And then he's gone again. How is he doing that so damn fast. Kirk Douglas pops up in the line. "I Am Plasticus." Further down the line appears, "Ah, I am... Plasticus, yeah." Christopher Walken. Back up near the front of the line? "I'm Plasticus, see? Nyeah!" Cagney? Lacey? One of them. "I am The Plasitcus, see! Filth-flarn-filk!" Bill Cosby. Too soon. And one more for the road, "Plasticus, am I." Yoda. With this done, Plastic Man pops back over to the table with Booster and Beetle and squeezes himself into the middle with a bucket of popcorn. He's at a grocery store. PROPS, man! "This is getting so good. Are you guys filming this? Somebody should be filming this." Munchnomcrunch. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     "And there we go," Dragonfly says. "The only one of you with the guts to be in even Booster Gold's outfit is a little girl."     She turns to Blue Beetle. "Sign her up. She can't go on jobs yet; child labour laws and all that. But she's got the spirit to be a super."     She kneels down before the little girl with a genuine-seeming smile. "So, Mighty Hic, what is it you do? And why do you want to do it with Booster Gold of all people?" she asks. She looks up at Papi Chulo, then glances over at the dumpster meaningfully. "I'll give you a free shot," she says, "then it's the dumpster." She turns back to the Mighty Hic. "Can you fly? Jump really far? Or do you just have the courage of ten thousand? I mean if it's just the courage thing, don't worry! Loads of heroes have no powers and are heroes because of courage, like the Batman! I think courage is more important, in fact."     A dismissive gesture at the 'heroes' behind the girl. "Those guys, except for Papi Chulo there? They're terrible as heroes not because of powers. They're terrible because they're scared. You're not scared. You're AWESOME!"     A grin Plastic Man's way.     "Of course some are awesome on sheer style as well." 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' Everyone starts trying to wave Dragonfly off, but it's too late. "I don't need YOU to tell me I got guts!" the little girl tells Dragonfly. "I wanna be a superhero, but my MAMI won't let me, because SHE'S a hero," Hic remarks. "But she knows gongfu, and she taught me!" Hic balls up her fist and pokes Dragonfly in the stomach. Once. "There! Mebbe you'll let everyone ELSE try out." She turns around and walks away, and all the aspirants clear a path-- even Papi Chulo, who was quick to back her. She lunges at him, and he flinches away. "Well, okay, cool, that... could have been worse," Booster says, nodding at Plastic Man and Booster. "Uh, okay, let's see, who's next-- Flapjack!" he says, looking at a fellow who walks out with frying pan armor on and a pair of cast iron skillets in his hands. Dragonfly hiccoughs. Then again. Then again. Then again. "The Mighty Hic strikes again," someone says, mournfully. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Stepping out from behind Booster Gold, the Blue Beetle wipes at his costumed forehead. "No kiddin', pal." He feels his mask. "Man, I need to invest in a moisture-wicking fabric. This is basically a sponge..." Returning to his seat at the folding table, Beetle clears his throat. "Alright, alright. So, Dragonfly. Let's not draw this out much longer: what are you bringing to the table? Figuratively speaking, that is, although it's obviously literal in this case, too," he adds, gesturing to the table. "If you're no more than half as bizarre as Plastic Man, personality-wise, you're basically a shoo-in. And if you're not going to try and kick me in the groin, I'll make sure you pass the cut." 

:'''{{#var:1098|Plastic Man (1098)}} has posed:''' As for Plastic Man, he's on the table again but this time he's not himself. Not that he's ever himself. He's a huge clipboard with giant piece of lined poster board held in his clip. He's also using his arm for a giant pen. That better be his arm. "Please, sign in. We'll need your name, address, how many pets you own and your favorite television show from the 1980s and 90s. These are crucial to our selection process! CRUCIAL!" "... if you liked Small Wonder you pass. Anyway!" Plastic Man takes the time to extend his neck and wink, personally, at Beetle, Booster and Dragonfly. 

:'''{{#var:69|Nancy Arazello (69)}} has posed:'''     *hic*     "OK," Dragonfly sighs. "I'll sign up if... *hic* ...you just end this charade." A bit of gas escapes her lips as a belch. "Damn! What did I have for lunch?"     I mean no kid could make her hiccough away like that, right?     *hic*     "Just send the delusional ones home, OK?"     *hic*     *hic* *hic* *hic*     "And anyway, Beetle, I'd never kick you in the groin. I reserve that ... *hic* ... for when Booster is being a pig." 

:'''{{#var:1039|Booster Gold (1039)}} has posed:''' It's about an hour of work to get through them all. It's a bit of a stretch (hah!) to work through it, and Ted spends most of his time shepherding Booster and keeping the blone and gold star from wandering off, or getting distracted, or sleeping, or whatever. Booster's attention span is not great. At the end, Dragonfly's been hiccoughing uncontrollably the entire time, and it's walking down her side into a pretty good runner's stitch. No amount of breath holding, water sipping, or jumpscares seems to work. Mucile Man, The Carbureator, Commander Cool, and one more who is censored because he's a pun on marijuana are, unfortunately, the best of the bunch by far. As they're packing up to leave, a woman walks up, hauling Mighty Hic along by one hand. She has the serene expression of a master tiger mom, and Hic looks furious and chastised all at once. "Hello. I'm Colleen Wing," the woman says, nodding slightly. "I understand my daughter /Alissa/ had a disagreement with you, and misused her talents," she says, jerking Hic's arm once. Hic looks at Dragonfly, with a surly expression. "msry," she mutters. Colleen yanks Hic's ear. "OW! I said I'M SORRY," she growls, clapping a hand to her head. She walks up to Dragonfly, and jabs three nerve clusters. The hiccoughs stop instantly. "There. Many apologies, young heroes. I wish you the best of luck," the woman says, taking Hic's hand in hers and walking away. She gets in a van driven by a talle woman with a thick afro, and it putters off. Silence reigns. "So like, what, six years? She's eligible for the team?" Booster asks the quarter. 
}}

1662/Mister Kord's Wild Ride

2017-08-08T23:56:00Z

Manowar: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/07/26 |Location=Jamaica, Queens |Synopsis=Ted Kord attempts to unveil a new subway technology ... with catastrophic results. Luckily, Atlee is..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/07/26
|Location=Jamaica, Queens
|Synopsis=Ted Kord attempts to unveil a new subway technology ... with catastrophic results. Luckily, Atlee is on hand to help mitigate the damage caused.
|Cast of Characters=12, 1034
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the incredible unveiling of the world's first SUBWAYPEDE!" The Blue Beetle, in costume with a conductor's hat on his head, shouts over the megaphone from a platform near the front of the vehicle. That vehicle? A sleek subway car outfitted with, rather than wheels, dozens of robotic legs. "Yes, here we stand, in the 'innards' of a giant insect, if you will," Beetle chuckles, to a crowd of people whose faces begin to fall, looking around. "A robo-insect, that is!" He continues. "This subwaypede should make metro travel that much safer, easier, and quicker--as it can maneuver more smoothly through tunnels, including on the walls and ceiling." "So," the Beetle says with a clap of his hands, "who's ready for a ride?" The car's not quite packed, but those present applaud politely. Meanwhile, off in the distance, there's a low rumble, like the sound of thunder from an approaching storm. 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     One of those who is in the crowd, and standing out, is a young woman wearing a black and white outfit, her violet eyes flicking over the Subwaypede with a faint frown. When she heard about this, she was a bit concerned...new vehicle travelling underground, in her experience, tend to drive through various subterranean peoples' living rooms...metaphorically speaking!     So she's here to see what's going on, but hasn't had a chance to bring up her concerns with Ted as of yet, because...well, she's polite and doesn't want to interrupt his spiel.     She is starting to shift a bit closer to him as it looks like he might stop talking for a bit while starting up the subwaypede, however. "Um...excuse me, Mr. Blue Beetle, sir..." she says slowly, then pauses as she hears the low rumbling.     Oh, nutbunnies...that can't be something already, can it? 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Let's get--it--STARTED!" shouts the Blue Beetle, and a Black Eyed Peas song ("My Humps") begins playing. The hero can be seen muttering under his breath even as the subwaypede begins moving. "Not now, ma'am, not now, not now," he says dismissively, ignoring the young woman for a moment. The ride does in fact seem to be quite smooth, but the legs skittering along the tunnel make a sound that's probably best described as 'human nightmare fuel'. Those nearest the car's windows attempt to shift closer to the center. Another rumble of thunder can be heard, a bit louder. Also, it seems to originate from below. Some sort of sewer department maintenance? At the back of the car--which is outfitted with a porthole that looks far too anatomically detailed for public consumption--a pair of riders spot something burst up from the tunnel floor. "Oh my god!" they shout in unison. "There's a giant ... bird beak?! ... trying to eat us!" 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     Terra mmphs, frowning as the dark-haired girl leans in, trying to meet your eyes with her violet ones. "B-But! Mr. Beetle, it's really important! there's something you should know about..." she continues, her voice a bit urgent, tapping his shoulder now!     And then, the giant bird beaks come bursting out of the ground. "...that." she says with a sigh, as people start to panic a bit.     "I'm pretty sure the Earlibeast thinks you resembles a deepwyrm, which they consider REALLY tasty, and, um...it's...totally going to try and eat us now?" she offers weakly, then draws herself up. "I will try to help! You just need to move! Like, really, really fast." she advises.     Like she knows how to dodge giant subterranean bird beaks with a train!     She starts moving to the back, trying to ignore the spincter-shaped port hole (oh, memories she would rather not recall!) and holds out her hands, reaching out into the earth to try and feel where the next strike is going to happen. And when the beak emerges, she promptly raises her hand, trying to smack the beak while it's visible with a big rock that rips out of the tunnel. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Kid, I don't know what you're--" the Beetle begins, but abruptly stops when chunks of tunnel explode up into the air in /front/ of the subwaypede and cause the beak to withdraw.. "AW, NUTS!" the hero/pilot shouts, spinning the subwaypede into a spiral that brings out over and around the hole as the beak recedes. The passengers all tumble about in the air for a long moment, and then they're suddenly restrained by automatic seatbelt webs that keep them from smashing against the ceiling and walls of the car. "So how do we stop these things? I don't have access or branding rights to giant mecha-cats, you know!" Blue Beetle shouts, looking around for the informed woman. "All I've got are these ... /pincers of power/ that are meant to help with debris cleanup!" A giant pair of razor-sharp pincers begin snapping at the subwaypede's head. Another beak appears, and the pincers snap at it--and promptly break on the beak's much stronger surface. "Well ... crap." 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     The girl makes a shoving motion downwards with both hands as a large boulder drops down to smack into the point of the second beak. "Oh, there's a nest of them! That's wonderful, they're so endangered!" Terra says happily, for a moment totally oblivious to the danger. That catches up after a moment. "Oh...oh, they'll be....reeeeeally hungry then." she says, her eyes widening. "Um...if you try to snap at the beaks, it might make them pull back? Their noses are a bit sensitive down near the bottom by the nostrils!"     She swings a hand as another boulder rips out, knocking another jabbing beak off course as it narrowly misses the vehicle. "I mean, you wouldn't BELIEVE what it's like when they get clogged up, it makes them really ornery..." 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     The girl makes a shoving motion downwards with both hands as a large boulder drops down to smack into the point of the second beak. "Oh, there's a nest of them! That's wonderful, they're so endangered!" Terra says happily, for a moment totally oblivious to the danger.     That catches up after a moment. "Oh...oh, they'll be....reeeeeally hungry then." she says, her eyes widening. "Um...if you try to snap at the beaks, it might make them pull back? Their noses are a bit sensitive down near the bottom by the nostrils when you..!" She stares at the pinchers breaking off. "perhaps if we got back up on the surface?" she says hopfully.     She swings a hand as another boulder rips out, knocking another jabbing beak off course as it narrowly misses the vehicle. "I mean, you wouldn't BELIEVE what it's like when they get clogged up, it makes them really ornery..." 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Oh, yeah! /They're/ so endangered!" Blue Beetle replies, performing a series of ballet-esque maneuvers in an attempt to pilot the subwaypede deftly through the tunnel. "What do they eat? he asks, eyes wide. "I don't suppose you have, like, a bag of holding full of underground-bird seed on you?" He shakes his head and sighs. "If I had a nickel for every time I've asked that question..." Meanwhile, near one of the car windows, a young child tosses a chocolate bar. The window is closed and the chocolate makes a *splat* sound against the glass. "Who'd have thought this trip would be so scenic?" the Beetle asks as the subwaypede spirals about again across the tunnel ceiling. Up ahead, there's a fork in the path. "Which one to take which one to take which one to take ... uh ... LEFT!" the pilot screams. "I just want to /live/!" 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     Atlee lets out a squeak as down abruptly becomes up, falling on the ceiling, then rolling down the wall, blinking dazedly from the floor. "Ow." she notes, then peers backwards and upside at you. "Fork? Wait, that's....left? Nonono, wait, not LEFT! That tunnel is still partially collapsed from the last Hulk fight!" she says, scrambling to her feet, then erking as another beak skids along the side of the subwaypeded as she tries to keep her balance TShe then notices the chocolate. "Oh! Maybe if I throw a little food mixed with some rubble down their beaks, they'll think they've got a bite of something and pull back!" She moves to peel the chocolate bar off, then floats a piece of rock through the new rent in the side, putting the chocolate on it. "Okay, so, you'll need to lead it a bit so I know where it's going to come up..." she says determinedly, floating the rock out in front of the speeding craft. "Also they miiiight be able to get into the tunnel up ahead, I don't remember how big the holes were!" 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' With a frantic nod, the Blue Beetle flips a switch and the subwaypede's rear window opens up. "That hole can stay open for a while, but the safety pucker'll kick in after a minute--so be quick!" The subwaypede scrambles over a pile of rubble and through a tight squeeze back toward a portion of uncollapsed tunnel. "Luckily this thing'll handle uneven terrain," Beetle calls over the intercom. "Let's just hope it doesn't get much more uneven, right?" The passengers vocalize varying levels of support, disdain, and terror. As Terra mentions the possibility of the birds entering the tunnel, Blue Beetle swallows a lump in his throat. "On second thought, maybe more uneven and narrower might be better..." 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     The young geokinetic nods firmly, heading to the back as she lowers the stone until its scraping against the ground. "C'mon...heeeeere little Earlibird..." She hopes it's a litle one, as they can get quite big, anyway! She braces self with a hand on the window, then when the next beak surfaces hurls it down the bird's throat. There's a clacking noise as it devours it, chirping as it disappears from sight.      "Does anyone else have any food on the?" she says, looking at the other passengers. 'I'll need as much as we can find if it's a whole clutch of them!"     Meanwhile, up ahead, the tunnel starts to show noticeable cracks and at least one makeshift patch in the ceiling, with sections of it having collapses, or even holes that have opened up in the floors and walls. As you're driving past one, you can suddenly see a very large yellow eye with a red pupil staring balefully at the subwaypeded.     That is one ANGRY bird.     It tries to headbutt its way against the whole, trying to make it larger as it snaps at the vehicle from the side. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' The Blue Beetle continues his acrobatic piloting. "Note to self," he says, sweat dripping from his chin, "subwaypede drivers will /have/ to be in excellent health..." The scrambling vehicle nears one of the larger cracks. "Okay," the Beetle says, "everyone get limp! We're going to get /real/ cozy here..." Suddenly, the subwaypede turns back on itself, stretching into the tunnel even as it flattens somewhat, allowing for the car to reverse its course without going into a reverse gear. The vehicle's sectioning plates creak and hiss to allow the change in space, and the skittering sound of clattering legs makes it sound like an army of demonic insects is stampeding nearby. "This was never properly testeeeeddddddd...!" cries the Beetle, his eyes squeezed shut for a moment. 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     As the vehicle turns sharply back on itself, it's just in time to miss being speared by the Earlibird pacing alongside the tunnel as its head comes partway into the tunnel to snap furiously at it, before pulling back out.     Terra erks as she wobbles, turning a little green at all the sudden directional changes, but valiantly continues her efforts to pretty much grab up alllll the snacks from the tourists aboard, starting to load up rock lures and tossing them into Earlibird maws as quickly as she can. "I think it's working! We're lucky the mother isn't here, they're much bigger and..."     The ground quakes, before a beak the size of the train sheers through the wall a bit ahead of where you're going.     "...why do I SAY things like that!?!" the heroine yelps. "Okay, new plan, um...run away REALLY FAST!      

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "You heard the lady, everybody--next stop is the end of the line!" The directions ring out across the intercom, albeit with an appropriate amount of static-y garbling. Blue Beetle tugs back on the subwaypede's controls and the subterranean insect-transport launches itself straight up and into the ceiling, the shattered pincers still capable of chewing through concrete and brick. The vehicle scrambles through a hole just big enough for the insect ride, and moments later it bursts up into the middle of an intersection. Sitting out in front of a barber shop nearby, three older men shake their heads. "Now that's something you don't see every day!" exclaims one. "You live in New York, you gonna see this sort of thing every day," replies a second. "I never seen no giant insect come out of the ground," says the first. "That ... what's his name ... Spider-Man. He's a giant insect. He came by swinging from the roofs a few weeks ago," interjects the third. "That wasn't from the ground, though. And he weren't no giant," says the first. Meanwhile, subwaypede passengers do their best to evacuate the vehicle in a quick and not-very-orderly fashion, running to nearby buildings, buses, and taxis. 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     The young heroine hangs on for dear life as the 'pede suddenly goes vertical, letting out an 'oof' as it comes down in the intersection, moving out into it as cars squeal to a halt and horns start honking. Because it's New York.     She quickly moves to the back of the craft, leaning out to hold out her hands, as the ground shakes a little, the rubble, rock, and asphalt flowing together to seal over the hole. She whews. "Okay, they shouldn't be able to sense the vibrations all the way up here with the EEK!"     The last comes as the spincter irises partway closed, pinning Terra halfway in and out as she flails a bit, trying to wiggle free. "Little...help?" she squeaks, kicking as she tries vainly to get any sort of leverage to try and either push through or pull back...no, on second though, she realizes after the last lecture about changing costumes in public, that would probably be a poor idea, consider her uniform design... 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "I'll help!" Beetle calls, running to the back of the car. Taking hold of Terra's legs, the man attempts to shove her through the hole. "You've got to push! And breathe!" he says, face turning red. "Show this thing who's boss!" The portal, meanwhile, isn't budging. "Did you have a big breakfast or something this morning?" Blue Beetle asks, huffing and straining. 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     The girl isn't helping much by kicking a little bit as you grab hold of her legs. "I have...a very...busy..ungh...lifestyle, I need those carbs!" she shoots back, sounding aggrieved, as she plants her hands to either side and pushes, trying to help, then exhales, trying to reduce the diameter as much as she can. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Inch ... by inch ... and then, somehow, all at once the portal allows Terra to slide out. For his part, Blue Beetle is on the floor inside the subwaypede, clutching his nose--which had been struck by a flailing leg. "Dab's gobba be doh dore," he groans. A moment later, an automated message plays on the vehicle intercom: "Thank you for riding Subwaypede! Please make sure to give us five stars on Yelp!" 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     There's a squeak as Terra's hips finally escape the grasp of the subwaypede's posterior, landing with an 'oof' outside, before she sits up, rubbing her waist with a frown. "...I do not eat too much for breakfast..." she mutters, flushing a bit, before she picks herself up to peer back inside. "Mr. Beetle? Are you okay?"     She moves around to one of the open doors to hop back inside, heading over to you. "Thank you for getting me free..." 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' Stumbling out of the subwaypede in a motion that looks like nothing so much as the end of a-ha's "Take On Me" music video, the Blue Beetle drips blood onto the center of the intersection. While horns honk all around him, with many cars attempting to carve their own routes around this traffic fiasco, the hero blinks and tries to wave at the "adoring" fans. He ends up flicking blood at a bunch of people and windshields. "I'b oday," he replies to Terra. "Gobba phode for Dabage Gombrol?" Even as he asks, of course, the sounds of helicopters--and sirens--can be heard approaching. "Yay..." he says, sarcastically, with a heavy sigh. 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     The young geokinetic ums. "...who?" she says uncertainly. "If you need help, I can...ah...' She raises her hands, curling her fingers, before the ground trembles a bit, the asphalt swirling then washing out in a slow wave as the 'pede is pushed to the side with great shrieking of metal grinding against the ground, until it's pushed more or less off the street, leaning on its side next to the line of parked cars there.     There! That should keep it out of the - " And then it tips over, squashing the line of cars with an expensive sounding 'CRUNCH'.     Terra winces. "Um...oops....sorry?" she says sheepishly. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' The bleeding hero cringes as the subwaypede crushes multiple cars. He slowly opens one eye to peek at the damage, his shoulders slumping. "Dab's ... nob good," he mutters. "Bub ... ib gould be worsd." Then, the subwaypede catches fire. "I hade my libe." He sighs again and looks at Terra. "Bleasd dohb helb eddy more." 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     Terra rubs the back of her neck, toeing at a loose rock on the ground. "Um, okay." she says, then steps up close to you. "Don't feel bad though! You saved all those people, it could have been much worse without you there!" she says, then slides her arms around you, giving you a comforting hug! And a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you." 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Waid, waid!" the Beetle cries in protest. He pauses a beat. "Leb me gedd a bigshure. Boosder will be doh jealubb." The Beetle pulls out his phone for a selfie with Terra. He smiles while blood streams down his face. "Nebber mide whad I dedd earlier--I lub my libe!" 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     Terra blinks her violet eyes cutely, halting, then ahs, then gives the camera a thumbs up, still snuggling into your side as she beams at the camera, giving you a second kiss on the cheek! Seeming quite happy to do it twice, for that matter. Hugs are best!     That and she's immediately happier hearing Ted less dour about life in general. 

:'''{{#var:12|Ted Kord (12)}} has posed:''' "Day..." Beetle says, glancing at Terra from the corner of his eye, "you imberedded ib a lugrabibb gareer obburbuudibby?" He offers a salesman's grin stained with nose blood. "We bay eggsdelleb ... gebberoudly ... gombarabbibly ..." He pauses. "Id's a libbing, ad leasd." "Thing aboud id." The Beetle procures a small business card that reads: --- SUPERBUDDIES * Daring doers of heroic derring-do! * Most inclusive super-team in the tri-state area! * America's sweethearts! * We validate parking!(*) Call 555-555-5555 or email recruiting@k00lsuperbuds417.biz (*) Validation not provided M-F --- 

:'''{{#var:1034|Atlee (1034)}} has posed:'''     Terra takes the card curiously, looking slightly confused as she tries to figure out what you're saying. But she does read it, and then tucks it safely down her cleavage....as she doesn't have pockets in this outfit, really.     "Thank you very much, I will consider it!" she says seriously, tucking some of her short black hair behind an ear absently as she smiles at you. "I'm happy I could help today. But I should go back down and make sure the clutch is encouraged to be deeper down...people don't react well to such creatures when they come up on the surface." She smiles cheerfully at you. "It's been nice to meet you Mr. Beetle!"     There's a rumble as a neat circle of asphalt around her peels back as she steps down onto the dirt and rock below, then descends like she's on an elevator, waving the whole way, until the hole closes up above her again. 
}}

Blue Beetle (Kord)

2017-08-08T23:53:25Z

Manowar: fixing attribute headings

{{CharacterNew
|NameOnMUSH=Ted Kord
|Color=#333
|TextColor=#c1c1c1
|Char_id=12
|Img=http://i.imgur.com/gZvWBwf.png
|FullName=Theodore "Ted" Kord
|Gender=Male
|Species=Human
|Theme=DC
|Chartype=FC
|Active=Active
|Occupation=C.E.O. of Kord Industries
|Quote="Bwa-ha-ha-ha!"
|PAge=Mid-20s
|AAge=26
|DOB=1 April 1999
|Height=180 cm
|Weight=83 kg
|Hair=Brown
|Eyes=Blue
|Song="Tubthumping" by Chumbawumba
|Profile=Heir to Kord Industries, Theodore "Ted" Kord is one of the most brilliant minds of his generation. A scientific, technological and engineering prodigy, whose inventions and patents have been game changers since he was fourteen years old. Ted has nonetheless lived a rather directionless life until his Uncle Jarvis, co-founder of the family company, secretly tried to take over the world. Ted stopped his uncle, but lost his friend and mentor Dan Garret, the original Blue Beetle. Promising to take the mantle and keep Dan Garret's legacy alive, he has spent years training himself physically and building an arsenal of gadgets to aid him as the new Blue Beetle.

|Abilities=
==== Air Blast ====

Also called the Beetle's Breath, the B.B. gun is capable of firing a compressed, almost cohesive, blast of air at a target. The blast is capable of stunning a rhino at nine metres. Man sized / massed targets tend to get blown over. The Mk. II is also capable of firing customised gas cartridges with varying gas payloads. Also, a nozzle fitting allows the gun to fire specialised canisters. He can also use the blast to propel himself about 9+ metres, or to slow his ascent if falling.

==== Blind & Stun ====

Also called the Beetle's Glare, a carefully modulated pulse of light from the B.B. Gun that can temporarily blind an opponent. The Mk. II also has variable settings that can cause physical distresses like nausea.

==== Durability ====

Blue Beetle's costume can withstand slashing / piercing damage from smaller to medium blades, up to .45 calibre rounds, is fire and cold proof, and is resistant to electricity and medium output energy weapons. The Cowl is similarly constructed, with the addition of the bulletproof visor.

==== Grapple & Swing ====

Also known as the Beetle's Grasp, it is a retractable grappling hook that he can fire from the B.B. Gun with up to three hundred feet of carbon-monofilament. He can use this to climb or to swing from things, as well as grab items.

==== Gripping ====

The Gecko-Grip technology in his suit allows Blue Beetle to hold to and easily scale nearly any surface.

==== Laser ====

Also called the Beetle's Bite, technically not to be used as an actual weapon, the Bite function of the B.B. Gun is a high powered laser cutter / welder able of cutting through even the most advanced materials, such as what is used in Apokoliptian tech.

==== Multi-Spectrum Optics ====

Blue Beetle's visor allows him to see in the dark, gives him thermal, infrared, and ultraviolet vision, and even offers a Lidar.

==== Stealth ====

Between Blue Beetle's acrobatic flexibility and martial arts training, plus some innovations in his suit, he is a master of stealth able to get into pretty much most place unseen.

|Skills=
==== Acrobat ====

Ted is an "Olympic level Acrobat!". No such thing, you say? Well you would be correct! And that still doesn't make his self-described level of skill any less Valid. It started as a kid between a love of the fearless of circus acrobats, a secret enjoyment of gymnastics, and running away from bullies when the meek nerd's enjoyment of said gymnastics was found out. When his dying mentor passed on the mantle of Blue Beetle, Ted spent years honing and expanding his reflexes and dexterity to the peak that his body would allow, a homemade style that should be called AcroGymnaParkour but "Olympic level Acrobat!" sounds way more official, in a cool way.

==== Archaeologist

Ted's enjoyment of Archaeology began in university, when he was told to find a soft science course to balance his hard science workload. He took a class taught by family friend, Dan Garret (the original Blue Beetle), and the rest is history! See what we did there...?

==== Coder ====

Sometimes a new idea needs to be simulated, or an invention needs more than hardwired logic to work properly. Computers have allowed Ted to expand his inventions capabilities, making them 'smarter'. Plus there are just so many interesting and funny things you can do on the internet, right? Sure, Ted ain't no Iron Man, but he is no slouch with computers either, having proven to be able to avoid certain famous cyber-warriors from time to time, hack future / Apokoliptian systems... or send anonymous joke emails to the most secure inboxes.

==== Detective ====

Over the years, between his scientific mind, love of research, and dealing with various forms of criminal activities, Ted has become a very competent detective. He may not be Batman's level, this is true, but he knows the basics and has an emotional understanding of people that bats sometimes lacks.

==== Martial Artist ====

You need to man up. That's what Ted's Dad told him after the umpteenth time the young nerd was beaten up. You need more discipline. That's what his dad said the eleventh time Ted was in the principal's office after a joke went bad. So what could man up and discipline someone better than Martial Arts? As luck would have it, with his gymnastic bent Ted took to Martial Arts very well... and when the mantle of Blue Beetle was passed to him he trained his fighting skills, mixed with his acrobatic skill, to their limits. His style could be called a mixture of karate and aikido with a healthy dose of parkour thrown in.

==== Mechanical Engineer ====

Engineering is a practical skill... or so Ted's Dad told him. Sure his parents doted on him when he was younger, encouraging his scientific pursuits, but as he got older they wanted their son to learn something practical and maybe a bit more manly than chemistry or physics or whatever science of the week he lusting after. Thankfully Ted took to it just like he had everything else; motors, engines, jets, rockets, bikes, cars, airplanes, airships, spaceships, robots! The more moving parts, the more complex, the more fun it is to make!

==== Pilot ====

Ted's grandfather used to regale him with tales of piloting daring do back in the War, which had the effect of sparking the young man's love in all things flying. It also helped that he came from a very well off family, which made getting piloting lessons a lot easier. It also let him test fly some of his own inventions, every inventor's dream. Over the years he has proven himself a competent pilot, for himself and or the various teams and team-ups he has been involved with since assuming the Blue Beetle mantle. He has piloted Planes, Helicopters and even a spaceship or three. When flying his own inventions, however, competence becomes almost amazing, since he knows the ins and outs and every little quirk of his vehicles... especially the Bug.

==== Scientist ====

Ted is a master in the Sciences. Which sciences? Well he would hardly brag (Who are we kidding? Of course he would if it got him the chicks, respect, and bags of money) but pretty much / all of them. From The physical sciences to the life sciences to applied sciences, Ted has a firm understanding in all of them. Need a chemical analysis and the villain's sleepy time gas and someone to make an antidote?? Call Ted. Need to debunk some physics treatise? Call Ted.

==== Technician ====

What's the use of knowing science if you can't put it into practice? Ted is highly skilled in the technical sciences, from basic electronics to cybernetics and even a little bit of nanotechnology thrown in there to round stuff out. His hero career exposed him to alien technologies that he has been able to backwards engineer as well. Hey, who modified Wonder Woman's blow dryer so it would fuse a pink colouring agent to her hair? "BEEEEEEEEETLE!"

==== Weaponry ====

Ted isn't the biggest fan of weapons, especially those of the lethal variety. In fact he has spent more than enough of his professional career (both of them) devising as many non-lethal equivalents as he can. With normal weapons he is fairly competent but with weapons of his own design his proficiency grows almost exponentially because he knows the limits of his creations plus has aids in his suit to use them to their fullest potential.

|Resources=
==== B.B. Gun Mk. II ====

Blue Beetle is not a pacifist, but his personal mores dictate that he does not kill. His weapon of choice is an extension of that philosophy, designed from the onset of being as Non-Lethal as possible yet both functional and useful. The Mark II B.B. Gun is the newest incarnation of this weapon, sleeker than before but now more powerful and with more features.

==== Beetle Costume ====

Ted's Blue Beetle costume is a body fitting one-piece suit comprised of propritary Kord Industries materials and technology. The suit itself can withstand smaller blades, up to .45 calibre rounds, is fire proof, and resistant to electricity. The Cowl is similarly constructed, with the addition of the bulletproof visor that also acts as a H.U.D., camera, communicator and has multiple spectrum vision capabilities. The gloves and boots have gecko-grip technology, allowing him to adhere to most surfaces. He has wrist interfaces to a suit-board computer (which can also link with the computer on the Bug) and his belt contains many pouches that holds various gadgets and tools.

==== Drones ====

Blue Beetle utilises a number of different drones in his work. Most used are the tiny bugs (Baby Beetles) used for surveillance or investigation, table of singular tasks and can be adapted to other tasks due to their modular construction. Lately Blue Beetle has added larger robotic drones which he calls S.C.A.R.A.B.s, or Self Contained Adaptive Robotic Autonomous Builders, which are more advanced robots the size of a loaf of bread capable of multiple tasks and the ability to work somewhat independently.

==== Kord Industries ====

Ted's Father Founded Kord Omniversal Research and Development and even before he inherited the family business, Ted was working for them, many of his patents having made the company one of the leading Research and Development firms in the world. Over the past decade the company has seen its up and downs as fortunes changed and rivals picked up their game but as of the past few years the rebranded Kord Industries has again found itself on the rise. Knowing his limits as a businessman, Ted tries to leave the company's every day running in capable hands (though sometimes he can't help but jump in). Luckily the company gives Ted the resources to fund and outfit his hero endeavours. Kord Industries also gives him the tools he requires to produce his gadgets and other inventions.

==== Other Gadgets ====

Gah, the life of a gadgeteer. It would take forever to list all the gizmos that Ted has been able to (or will). At nearly any given time Ted has any of a dozen little gadgets available in a pocket (or a pouch, or a glove compartment, or under his pillow). They may not always do what he wants them to do (No, the windless hairdryer wasn't supposed to curl your hair too), or if they do work maybe they have a weird glitch (Agh, pick the lock, not melt it!), but these other offhand gadgets do tend to get the job done, if not the way he intended. Think of it like Batman's utility belt, but a wee bit more wonky.

==== The Bug ====

The Bug is Ted's baby, his masterpiece, his pride and joy. He started building the airship it even before he took on the mantle of Blue Beetle, constructing it from old auto parts, left over Kord Industries aerospace prototypes (which he helped create) and his 'failed' experiments until he had created a versatile airship platform that was ninety percent solar powered. Over the years Ted (sometimes with the aid of various friends and allies) improved upon its design and capabilities until it was an amazing feat of modern engineering packed into an adorably menacing Beetle shaped package.

It is heavily armoured (yet lightweight), able to withstand (.50 cal), the pressure of 300 metres of water or the vacuum of space on its own. Cloaking technology allowing the Bug to blend into its environment or become almost invisible.

Power (90 percent) is provided by some of the most efficient solar panel technology ever developed (patented by Kord Industries) incorporated into the ship's surface along with the highest density batteries available in the world (Another Kord Innovation) which allow the Bug to run almost continuously as long as there is even a smidgen of daylight, or for 24 hours on battery power before needing to recharge.

The Bug is held aloft by Contra-Gravity, Ted's latest breakthrough allowing the airship to defy gravity. Thrust and movement is provided by Impulsers, a form ductless magneto-constrictive scramjets that can operate at above and below subsonic velocities, in atmosphere (average cruise speed of 1,00 kph with short bursts above mach 2.5) and below water (10 mps). Technically the Contragrav system in conjunction with the impulses would allow the Bug to enter orbit but besides the manoeuvring jets (which make the Bug very agile) it would have no way to move itself... yet, anyways. The Contra-Grav / Impulser system also allows the Bug to carry loads externally (the Mug's legs are capable of gripping a standard sized cargo-ship container. Oh, and the entire system is nearly silent, making the Bug surprisingly stealthy.)

Offensively, none of the weapons systems on the Bug are technically lethal. He has missiles (with variable scientific and non-lethal payloads), lasers (for non-combat uses, mostly, and capable of cutting through even Apokoliptian armour), L.E.D. Incapacitators (Strobe Lights), Infra / Ultrasound Sound projectors, H.E.R.F. (Cohesive E.M.P.) emitters and an electroshock weapon he can use over the hull or at a distance.

If the Bug should come up against something more powerful than the normal armour can handle, Ted has developed a Plasmatic Electromagnetic Deflector Shield to defend the ship. It can withstand a number of extremely heavy kinetic / energy hits but will definitely drain the batteries faster than the solar panels can recharge them.

Inside the Bug is outfitted with the best technology (and comforts) that Kord (and Ted himself) have to offer: advanced military grade sensor systems, a complete communications array, state of the art computer systems, a compact but top of the line laboratory, a small but fully functional fabrication system, a cargo bay capable of holding something the size of a hummer, seating up to a dozen, and a fully stocked galley / lounge with a large screen H.D.T.V. and an impressive entertainment and gaming systems.

Oh! Oh! And don't forget the skyhook! Helping heroes swing into action since the days of Robin Hood!

==== Wealth ====

Ted has inherited a vast fortune from his father, totalling in the many, many millions though much of this he has reinvested into his company and, secretly, his occupation as a crime fighter. Unlike most inherited rich though he has not been idle and has earned a nearly equal amount on his own right. Not through business acumen but through his patents.

|Weaknesses=

==== Absent Minded ====

Ted may be a certified genius but he tends to forget or not notice things when distracted by new ideas or outside stimulation. It makes it difficult sometimes for him to stay organized and on task.

==== Amorous ====

As Blue Beetle, Ted has been known to let his hormones get the better of him, and has been known time to time to let his irrational attraction to attractive women allow him to make questionable decisions. This can sometimes be very humorous but it has also been known to cause difficulties when resisting those who would takes advantage of his amorous personality.

==== Flawed Business Sense ====

Ted knows business through and through, his knowledge thoroughly researched and simulated to the nth degree. Alas, sometimes he makes business decisions more with his heart and enthusiasm for his inventions than with his brain. He wants the business to be a success not just for his family legacy but for all those he employs and all those he feels his business could help. And every time he makes a big mistake he tries coming up with some get rich scheme to make it better, which usually fails miserably. Luckily he has some good financial advisors now to help him but sometimes he still doesn't listen.

==== Insatiable Curiosity ====

It drives Ted crazy when something's going on and he doesn't know everything about it. He is driven to dig when a mystery presents itself, even when the investigation or the answer could be potentially hazardous to his health. Mysteries and new technologies must be explored, be they mundane (who stole my chicken pot pie!) or fantastic (where did that street gang get their hands on plasma-based weaponry?). This can be pretty distracting and sometimes extremely dangerous.

==== Jokester ====

Blue Beetle just can't help himself. If the opportunity is there to crack a joke, he's going to take it even if it earns him a punch in the breadbasket. If the opportunity presents itself to pull a prank, he will do so and be damned the consequences! Of course, this makes him somewhat of an irritant to some.

==== Secret Identity ====

The world at large doesn't know that Ted Kord is the Blue Beetle, so of course it's something that he has to keep hidden. As such Ted does have to take a lot of care in fighting people, just in case something happens that will cause him to reveal his identity. Of course there are people that know it, like a hero community at large, and they can do whatever they want with that information.

}}

Blue Beetle (Kord)

2017-08-08T23:43:49Z

Manowar: initial page setup

{{CharacterNew
|NameOnMUSH=Ted Kord
|Color=#333
|TextColor=#c1c1c1
|Char_id=12
|Img=http://i.imgur.com/gZvWBwf.png
|FullName=Theodore "Ted" Kord
|Gender=Male
|Species=Human
|Theme=DC
|Chartype=FC
|Active=Active
|Occupation=C.E.O. of Kord Industries
|Quote="Bwa-ha-ha-ha!!"
|PAge=Mid-20s
|AAge=26
|DOB=1 April 1999
|Height=180 cm
|Weight=83 kg
|Hair=Brown
|Eyes=Blue
|Song="Tubthumping" by Chumbawumba
|Profile=Heir to Kord Industries, Theodore "Ted" Kord is one of the most brilliant minds of his generation. A scientific, technological and engineering prodigy, whose inventions and patents have been game changers since he was fourteen years old. Ted has nonetheless lived a rather directionless life until his Uncle Jarvis, co-founder of the family company, secretly tried to take over the world. Ted stopped his uncle, but lost his friend and mentor Dan Garret, the original Blue Beetle. Promising to take the mantle and keep Dan Garret's legacy alive, he has spent years training himself physically and building an arsenal of gadgets to aid him as the new Blue Beetle.
|Abilities=----------------------------------< Air Blast >----------------------------------

Also called the Beetle's Breath, the B.B. gun is capable of firing a compressed, almost cohesive, blast of air at a target. The blast is capable of stunning a rhino at nine metres. Man sized / massed targets tend to get blown over. The Mk. II is also capable of firing customised gas cartridges with varying gas payloads. Also, a nozzle fitting allows the gun to fire specialised canisters. He can also use the blast to propel himself about 9+ metres, or to slow his ascent if falling.

--------------------------------< Blind & Stun >---------------------------------

Also called the Beetle's Glare, a carefully modulated pulse of light from the B.B. Gun that can temporarily blind an opponent. The Mk. II also has variable settings that can cause physical distresses like nausea.

---------------------------------< Durability >----------------------------------

Blue Beetle's costume can withstand slashing / piercing damage from smaller to medium blades, up to .45 calibre rounds, is fire and cold proof, and is resistant to electricity and medium output energy weapons. The Cowl is similarly constructed, with the addition of the bulletproof visor.

-------------------------------< Grapple & Swing >-------------------------------

Also known as the Beetle's Grasp, it is a retractable grappling hook that he can fire from the B.B. Gun with up to three hundred feet of carbon-monofilament. He can use this to climb or to swing from things, as well as grab items.

----------------------------------< Gripping >-----------------------------------

The Gecko-Grip technology in his suit allows Blue Beetle to hold to and easily scale nearly any surface.

------------------------------------< Laser >------------------------------------

Also called the Beetle's Bite, technically not to be used as an actual weapon, the Bite function of the B.B. Gun is a high powered laser cutter / welder able of cutting through even the most advanced materials, such as what is used in Apokoliptian tech.

----------------------------< Multi-Spectrum Optics >----------------------------

Blue Beetle's visor allows him to see in the dark, gives him thermal, infrared, and ultraviolet vision, and even offers a Lidar.

-----------------------------------< Stealth >-----------------------------------

Between Blue Beetle's acrobatic flexibility and martial arts training, plus some innovations in his suit, he is a master of stealth able to get into pretty much most place unseen.
|Skills=-----------------------------------< Acrobat >-----------------------------------

Ted is an "Olympic level Acrobat!". No such thing, you say? Well you would be correct! And that still doesn't make his self-described level of skill any less Valid. It started as a kid between a love of the fearless of circus acrobats, a secret enjoyment of gymnastics, and running away from bullies when the meek nerd's enjoyment of said gymnastics was found out. When his dying mentor passed on the mantle of Blue Beetle, Ted spent years honing and expanding his reflexes and dexterity to the peak that his body would allow, a homemade style that should be called AcroGymnaParkour but "Olympic level Acrobat!" sounds way more official, in a cool way.

--------------------------------< Archaeologist >--------------------------------

Ted's enjoyment of Archaeology began in university, when he was told to find a soft science course to balance his hard science workload. He took a class taught by family friend, Dan Garret (the original Blue Beetle), and the rest is history! See what we did there...?

------------------------------------< Coder >------------------------------------

Sometimes a new idea needs to be simulated, or an invention needs more than hardwired logic to work properly. Computers have allowed Ted to expand his inventions capabilities, making them 'smarter'. Plus there are just so many interesting and funny things you can do on the internet, right? Sure, Ted ain't no Iron Man, but he is no slouch with computers either, having proven to be able to avoid certain famous cyber-warriors from time to time, hack future / Apokoliptian systems... or send anonymous joke emails to the most secure inboxes.

----------------------------------< Detective >----------------------------------

Over the years, between his scientific mind, love of research, and dealing with various forms of criminal activities, Ted has become a very competent detective. He may not be Batman's level, this is true, but he knows the basics and has an emotional understanding of people that bats sometimes lacks.

-------------------------------< Martial Artist >--------------------------------

You need to man up. That's what Ted's Dad told him after the umpteenth time the young nerd was beaten up. You need more discipline. That's what his dad said the eleventh time Ted was in the principal's office after a joke went bad. So what could man up and discipline someone better than Martial Arts? As luck would have it, with his gymnastic bent Ted took to Martial Arts very well... and when the mantle of Blue Beetle was passed to him he trained his fighting skills, mixed with his acrobatic skill, to their limits. His style could be called a mixture of karate and aikido with a healthy dose of parkour thrown in.

-----------------------------< Mechanical Engineer >-----------------------------

Engineering is a practical skill... or so Ted's Dad told him. Sure his parents doted on him when he was younger, encouraging his scientific pursuits, but as he got older they wanted their son to learn something practical and maybe a bit more manly than chemistry or physics or whatever science of the week he lusting after. Thankfully Ted took to it just like he had everything else; motors, engines, jets, rockets, bikes, cars, airplanes, airships, spaceships, robots! The more moving parts, the more complex, the more fun it is to make!

------------------------------------< Pilot >------------------------------------

Ted's grandfather used to regale him with tales of piloting daring do back in the War, which had the effect of sparking the young man's love in all things flying. It also helped that he came from a very well off family, which made getting piloting lessons a lot easier. It also let him test fly some of his own inventions, every inventor's dream. Over the years he has proven himself a competent pilot, for himself and or the various teams and team-ups he has been involved with since assuming the Blue Beetle mantle. He has piloted Planes, Helicopters and even a spaceship or three. When flying his own inventions, however, competence becomes almost amazing, since he knows the ins and outs and every little quirk of his vehicles... especially the Bug.

----------------------------------< Scientist >----------------------------------

Ted is a master in the Sciences. Which sciences? Well he would hardly brag (Who are we kidding? Of course he would if it got him the chicks, respect, and bags of money) but pretty much / all of them. From The physical sciences to the life sciences to applied sciences, Ted has a firm understanding in all of them. Need a chemical analysis and the villain's sleepy time gas and someone to make an antidote?? Call Ted. Need to debunk some physics treatise? Call Ted.

---------------------------------< Technician >----------------------------------

What's the use of knowing science if you can't put it into practice? Ted is highly skilled in the technical sciences, from basic electronics to cybernetics and even a little bit of nanotechnology thrown in there to round stuff out. His hero career exposed him to alien technologies that he has been able to backwards engineer as well. Hey, who modified Wonder Woman's blow dryer so it would fuse a pink colouring agent to her hair? "BEEEEEEEEETLE!"

----------------------------------< Weaponry >-----------------------------------

Ted isn't the biggest fan of weapons, especially those of the lethal variety. In fact he has spent more than enough of his professional career (both of them) devising as many non-lethal equivalents as he can. With normal weapons he is fairly competent but with weapons of his own design his proficiency grows almost exponentially because he knows the limits of his creations plus has aids in his suit to use them to their fullest potential.
|Resources=-------------------------------< B.B. Gun Mk. II >-------------------------------

Blue Beetle is not a pacifist, but his personal mores dictate that he does not kill. His weapon of choice is an extension of that philosophy, designed from the onset of being as Non-Lethal as possible yet both functional and useful. The Mark II B.B. Gun is the newest incarnation of this weapon, sleeker than before but now more powerful and with more features.

-------------------------------< Beetle Costume >--------------------------------

Ted's Blue Beetle costume is a body fitting one-piece suit comprised of propritary Kord Industries materials and technology. The suit itself can withstand smaller blades, up to .45 calibre rounds, is fire proof, and resistant to electricity. The Cowl is similarly constructed, with the addition of the bulletproof visor that also acts as a H.U.D., camera, communicator and has multiple spectrum vision capabilities. The gloves and boots have gecko-grip technology, allowing him to adhere to most surfaces. He has wrist interfaces to a suit-board computer (which can also link with the computer on the Bug) and his belt contains many pouches that holds various gadgets and tools.

-----------------------------------< Drones >------------------------------------

Blue Beetle utilises a number of different drones in his work. Most used are the tiny bugs (Baby Beetles) used for surveillance or investigation, table of singular tasks and can be adapted to other tasks due to their modular construction. Lately Blue Beetle has added larger robotic drones which he calls S.C.A.R.A.B.s, or Self Contained Adaptive Robotic Autonomous Builders, which are more advanced robots the size of a loaf of bread capable of multiple tasks and the ability to work somewhat independently.

-------------------------------< Kord Industries >-------------------------------

Ted's Father Founded Kord Omniversal Research and Development and even before he inherited the family business, Ted was working for them, many of his patents having made the company one of the leading Research and Development firms in the world. Over the past decade the company has seen its up and downs as fortunes changed and rivals picked up their game but as of the past few years the rebranded Kord Industries has again found itself on the rise. Knowing his limits as a businessman, Ted tries to leave the company's every day running in capable hands (though sometimes he can't help but jump in). Luckily the company gives Ted the resources to fund and outfit his hero endeavours. Kord Industries also gives him the tools he requires to produce his gadgets and other inventions.

--------------------------------< Other Gadgets >--------------------------------

Gah, the life of a gadgeteer. It would take forever to list all the gizmos that Ted has been able to (or will). At nearly any given time Ted has any of a dozen little gadgets available in a pocket (or a pouch, or a glove compartment, or under his pillow). They may not always do what he wants them to do (No, the windless hairdryer wasn't supposed to curl your hair too), or if they do work maybe they have a weird glitch (Agh, pick the lock, not melt it!), but these other offhand gadgets do tend to get the job done, if not the way he intended. Think of it like Batman's utility belt, but a wee bit more wonky.

-----------------------------------< The Bug >-----------------------------------

The Bug is Ted's baby, his masterpiece, his pride and joy. He started building the airship it even before he took on the mantle of Blue Beetle, constructing it from old auto parts, left over Kord Industries aerospace prototypes (which he helped create) and his 'failed' experiments until he had created a versatile airship platform that was ninety percent solar powered. Over the years Ted (sometimes with the aid of various friends and allies) improved upon its design and capabilities until it was an amazing feat of modern engineering packed into an adorably menacing Beetle shaped package.

It is heavily armoured (yet lightweight), able to withstand (.50 cal), the pressure of 300 metres of water or the vacuum of space on its own. Cloaking technology allowing the Bug to blend into its environment or become almost invisible.

Power (90 percent) is provided by some of the most efficient solar panel technology ever developed (patented by Kord Industries) incorporated into the ship's surface along with the highest density batteries available in the world (Another Kord Innovation) which allow the Bug to run almost continuously as long as there is even a smidgen of daylight, or for 24 hours on battery power before needing to recharge.

The Bug is held aloft by Contra-Gravity, Ted's latest breakthrough allowing the airship to defy gravity. Thrust and movement is provided by Impulsers, a form ductless magneto-constrictive scramjets that can operate at above and below subsonic velocities, in atmosphere (average cruise speed of 1,00 kph with short bursts above mach 2.5) and below water (10 mps). Technically the Contragrav system in conjunction with the impulses would allow the Bug to enter orbit but besides the manoeuvring jets (which make the Bug very agile) it would have no way to move itself... yet, anyways. The Contra-Grav / Impulser system also allows the Bug to carry loads externally (the Mug's legs are capable of gripping a standard sized cargo-ship container. Oh, and the entire system is nearly silent, making the Bug surprisingly stealthy.)

Offensively, none of the weapons systems on the Bug are technically lethal. He has missiles (with variable scientific and non-lethal payloads), lasers (for non-combat uses, mostly, and capable of cutting through even Apokoliptian armour), L.E.D. Incapacitators (Strobe Lights), Infra / Ultrasound Sound projectors, H.E.R.F. (Cohesive E.M.P.) emitters and an electroshock weapon he can use over the hull or at a distance.

If the Bug should come up against something more powerful than the normal armour can handle, Ted has developed a Plasmatic Electromagnetic Deflector Shield to defend the ship. It can withstand a number of extremely heavy kinetic / energy hits but will definitely drain the batteries faster than the solar panels can recharge them.

Inside the Bug is outfitted with the best technology (and comforts) that Kord (and Ted himself) have to offer: advanced military grade sensor systems, a complete communications array, state of the art computer systems, a compact but top of the line laboratory, a small but fully functional fabrication system, a cargo bay capable of holding something the size of a hummer, seating up to a dozen, and a fully stocked galley / lounge with a large screen H.D.T.V. and an impressive entertainment and gaming systems.

Oh! Oh! And don't forget the skyhook! Helping heroes swing into action since the days of Robin Hood!

-----------------------------------< Wealth >------------------------------------

Ted has inherited a vast fortune from his father, totalling in the many, many millions though much of this he has reinvested into his company and, secretly, his occupation as a crime fighter. Unlike most inherited rich though he has not been idle and has earned a nearly equal amount on his own right. Not through business acumen but through his patents.
|Weaknesses=--------------------------------< Absent Minded >--------------------------------

Ted may be a certified genius but he tends to forget or not notice things when distracted by new ideas or outside stimulation. It makes it difficult sometimes for him to stay organized and on task.

-----------------------------------< Amorous >-----------------------------------

As Blue Beetle, Ted has been known to let his hormones get the better of him, and has been known time to time to let his irrational attraction to attractive women allow him to make questionable decisions. This can sometimes be very humorous but it has also been known to cause difficulties when resisting those who would takes advantage of his amorous personality.

----------------------------< Flawed Business Sense >----------------------------

Ted knows business through and through, his knowledge thoroughly researched and simulated to the nth degree. Alas, sometimes he makes business decisions more with his heart and enthusiasm for his inventions than with his brain. He wants the business to be a success not just for his family legacy but for all those he employs and all those he feels his business could help. And every time he makes a big mistake he tries coming up with some get rich scheme to make it better, which usually fails miserably. Luckily he has some good financial advisors now to help him but sometimes he still doesn't listen.

----------------------------< Insatiable Curiosity >-----------------------------

It drives Ted crazy when something's going on and he doesn't know everything about it. He is driven to dig when a mystery presents itself, even when the investigation or the answer could be potentially hazardous to his health. Mysteries and new technologies must be explored, be they mundane (who stole my chicken pot pie!) or fantastic (where did that street gang get their hands on plasma-based weaponry?). This can be pretty distracting and sometimes extremely dangerous.

----------------------------------< Jokester >-----------------------------------

Blue Beetle just can't help himself. If the opportunity is there to crack a joke, he's going to take it even if it earns him a punch in the breadbasket. If the opportunity presents itself to pull a prank, he will do so and be damned the consequences! Of course, this makes him somewhat of an irritant to some.

-------------------------------< Secret Identity >-------------------------------

The world at large doesn't know that Ted Kord is the Blue Beetle, so of course it's something that he has to keep hidden. As such Ted does have to take a lot of care in fighting people, just in case something happens that will cause him to reveal his identity. Of course there are people that know it, like a hero community at large, and they can do whatever they want with that information.
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