Action, Adventure, Excitement, Part 9: Nile Empire / Pulp Chapter 6 Subject: Re: AAE 9n: A Narrow Escape On Mon, 19 Apr 2004 22:24:24 -0700 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012041 >On Sun, 18 Apr 2004 22:53:20 -0400 >Dr. Energy Said As CAoL Message # 00012033 > >The Good Doctor checks the readouts that BORIS has been collecting on >the Anti-Helios. He makes a few quick calculations and his face goes >slack as he does the equations. "Fire the Telluric Engine." he says >to the radio announcer microphone. "Compliance." says the mechanical >voice of the computer. >From outside the robot, a rear porthole opens. The inside of the hole >glows with an unearthly energy. >[Mobius prepared for everything,] admits the Good Doctor grudgingly >to himself, [but I doubt he was prepared for this eventuality.] >"Computer, activate the Pseudoetherical Unobtanium Duplication >device." >"Compliance" From out of the porthole that had just opened, four >short bursts of energy emerge. The four combine together, and in a >burst of light and heat, an exact duplicate of the BORIS makes its >way to the AntiHelios. The plasma signature of the BORIS is >duplicated by the PUD, and the Not-BORIS turns and fires a full >charge of Tesla energy at the False Sun. The Good Doctor uses the >distraction to cloak himself and the BORIS. The black ray, sensing >two signatures, latches onto the newest one with almost all of its' >might. It sends another less powerful beam to the other signature. Doctor Mobius cackles with glee as the Omegatron targeting system locks on to his priamry target. "Good-BYE, Doctor Energy!" he howls, slamming a large switch as far forward as it will go. "Pharaoh! NO!" an engineer cries, then dives out of the room. The mad Doctor laughs wildly as the room he's in fills with arcs of electricity, vacuum tubes exploding around him. Then a flash of dark fills the screen, obscuring the image for a moment. When it clears, the Not-BORIS is gone. "Eh?" Mobius says, surprised. Looking at the screen more intently, he fiddles with dials and smaller switches. "Gone!" he exhales as he sits, stunned. "I got him." Then he stands, whirling on a shocktrooper. "You. Lieutenant." The lieutenant, who had been knocked on his keister, stands at attention. "SIR!" "Your headdress," he snaps. Uncomprehending but obedient, the shocktrooper hands over his headdress, which Mobius takes, covering his heart with a flourish worthy of Jack Sparrow. "Farewell, Doctor Energy. You were a worthy foe." "Ah, sir," the lieutenant notes tremulously, "you know, sir, these heroes, sir, they have a rather nasty habit, sir, of not dying from attacks like that. Sir. He might still be alive, sir." "I certainly hope so," Mobius replies to the shocked lieutenant. "Still and all, even heroes can fall to the power of the Omegatron, and it simply would not do to fail to pay homage to a fallen foe." He slaps the headgear into the man's chest, striding off with his cloak swirling dramatically in his wake. "Rama-TET!" "Yes, my Pharaoh?" an aged yet silky voice (OOC: think a slightly gravelly Jafar from the Aladdin movie) intones suddenly from Mobius' side. "GAH!" Mobius shouts, leaping to one side. "Don't DO that!" "Forgive me, oh Resplendent One," Rama-Tet soothes smoothly (say _that_ five times fast 8^). "I merely wish to always be available to your Imperial Majesty." "All right all right, excellent obsequiousness, that will do," Mobius replies curtly. "I need to know if any of these heroes survived my wrath -- which is to say, if any of them actually _fell_ in battle. Also, what their likely strategies are, and what probabilities may interfere with their plans, or mine." Rama-Tet's smile becomes, if anything, both more greasy and more cunning. "As it happens, I have anticipated your request..." -- Evil GM-San "The Attorney General says: beware the power of...EVIL MATH! NYAH-ha-ha-ha!" =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: A Narrow Escape On Tue, 20 Apr 2004 00:55:44 -0700 Nemo Said As CAoL Message # 00012042 >On Mon, 19 Apr 2004 22:24:24 -0700 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012041 > > "All right all right, excellent obsequiousness, that will do," >Mobius replies curtly. "I need to know if any of these heroes >survived my wrath -- which is to say, if any of them actually _fell_ >in battle. Also, what their likely strategies are, and what >probabilities may interfere with their plans, or mine." > Rama-Tet's smile becomes, if anything, both more greasy and more >cunning. "As it happens, I have anticipated your request..." Depending on how they are doing this (and *when*), Baraka may show up as "dead". :-) =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Violet Persuasions and Suggestions On Tue, 20 Apr 2004 22:51:00 -0700 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012049 >On Sun, 18 Apr 2004 05:12:32 -0700 (PDT) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012030 > >>> The Amazon Queen exhales in relief. "Well, that's all I've got >>>off the top of my head." She grins. "This is where I say 'I'll take >>>your questions now,' I believe," she finishes in a manner more >>>suited to a scholar than a warrior queen. > > "This is a bit personal, so feel free to not answer me, but who >were you before you found the Flame on Hespera?" Violet asks. She >managed not to sidetrack the briefing earlier. "And I would like to >discuss this Felix person - and Rama-Tet - in more detail after the >others have finished with their questions. Mathemagic is one of my... >fascinations." She frowns. Hippolyta sighs. "I was an archaeological researcher. I was interested in the Amazons for some time, though more in the truth of the legend than proving any particular point. My mother...was more of a believer. 'Hippolyta' is my real name." She looks sad. "I always thought my mum was a bit cracked. I'm not so sure, now." Doc Eon looks at her intently. "May I ask your last name, Your Majesty?" "It's 'Kosmos,'" she replies distractedly. Eon's face goes carefully neutral as Hippolyta continues. "Bannerman, according to some of the greatest heroes on Terra, is just what he appears to be -- a slick accountant with a distinct lack of scruples and a genius for numbers. He worked for a lot of criminal masterminds before Mobius gave him a king's salary to run the Empire's finances. 'Felix the Rat' skims off the top anyway, just to prove he can. Even at _that,_ he's good enough -- everyone knows it but no one can prove it -- that he has his job and his head." The queen sighs. "I think Mobius likes him." She begins to pace again. "Rama-Tet is...different. He has a strange sense of humor, which most of his fellow advisors don't. And Darkstock's is more than a little sick. The Vizier actually pretends to know _less_ than he really does, most of the time. At least as far as I can tell. He acts like a harmless old uncle in court, albeit a creepy sorcerous one. But...you knew there was a 'but,' of course...every once in a while, he reminds everyone just _how_ powerful he is. The man is a dark wizard of the first order. Even Ahkemeses is frightened of him." She pauses again. "He lectures about mathematical sorcery at the drop of a hat, so I can give you a few basics on theory. Egyptian 'Mathematics' is a combination of Terran astrology, numerology, causation, and standard magical manipulation. Not much numerology, though. Rama-Tet doesn't think much of the discipline, says it has 'very little to do with the paths of Possibility and acausal causation. Bleh." Hippolyta rubs back her hair. "Reminds me of my calculus teacher, only worse. Anyway, by working magical energy into and through certain formulae, they can do all sorts of things, from making their actions simpler and more effective to, well, bringing back the dead. Though they usually work with the priests on that. Ignoring the gods can have...messy repercussions." > "Undercover work has become very difficult for me since I have to >deal with these." Violet's gesture toward the scars acrost her face >is a rather unneeded explanation. "Against this class of opponent, I >probably cannot, but I would love to penetrate a lower-level class >this Rama-Tet is teaching his henchmen, or see if this Felix can be >turned. There is nothing quite like the innate satisfaction making >book on a bad guy." "I don't think Rama-Tet _teaches_ lower-level classes. He's the High Dean of the College of Mathematics. Fooling one of his lesser Deans should be possible, but I'd be amazed by anyone who could even get _into_ one of his classes secretly, let alone fooling the shriveled old creature," the amazon replies. "Even the Guardian never managed it," the Scarab adds. > "Unfortunately, Karma is unconscious. I wasn't monitoring her >directly, but since earlier communications had her piloting a flying >machine, I suspect this means she has been captured. The Hunter is quiet, physically. In his mind, he curses a blue streak, trying to keep it to himself, but UV can pick it up if she tries. (And she doesn't have to try hard.) > "DC was supposed to try and herd us cats, but as I haven't yet >heard from him, anyone else want the Worry Seat? If someone else does >not, I'll have to. Though I'm just going to make suggestions and try >to organize specific counter-attacks in relief if needed. Way I see >things, you lot are all experienced and just need cross-messaging and >an occasional helping hand if you let out an Ally-in-Free or Hey, >Rube!" The Hunter grins. "Sir, I think you're on." There are a few looks of confusions, until everyone realizes that there's only one person in the room he could possibly be calling 'sir.' Doc Eon looks faintly aghast. "Hunter, in the past, I have done a passable job of keeping three students of Science moving in the same general direction. I believe Ultraviolet is being modest -- no surprise there," he notes with a friendly grin to the Just Violet. "If she is overly uncomfortable with the job, you would be my choice for it." Eric sounds like he's being choked for a moment. Then, reaching into his topcoat (UV and the highly observant can tell he's clutching something), he stops and sighs. "The last time I lead a group into battle, we started with over two dozen. Three survived." "That was against Ventru himself," Doc Eon points out. "Given what we're facing, I don't think that's relevant," Eric replies softly. > "Right away, though, we need to get in communication with Karma. >She's perfectly placed to be our Inside Gal, but I don't know that >she is willing to take that risk. Hunter, you should know better than >questioning your instincts. I suggest you follow them. "Hrm." >If it is concern about me that is holding you back, deputize one of >these others to watch my back until you've gathered the information >we need to reach Karma. And take someone with you. That alone would >be different enough to make sure your role doesn't close you in." Eric nods. (The discussion about leadership seems to have made him more amenable to this idea. 8^) "I'll work better alone. Instead, I'll make it brief. You." He points at Diamond Jack, who jumps slightly in his seat. "me?" He manages to avoid looking over his shoulder, if only just. "Yes. You." The Hunter, hat cocked menacingly over his brow and shades concealing his gaze, nods sideways towards Ultraviolet. "This is becoming an unpleasant habit, but you're more palatable than the last one." "Gee, thanks," Jack replies dubiously. "Watch her back," he finishes in a gravelly yet firm voice. Then, with a leap, he is gone. Where did he leap? Into a shadow, out the door, through a window? Everyone seems to think he left a different way... [Huh. This archetype has its advantages.] > @Besides, love, there is no way you could be _dark_ enough to >match him, now. Trust me on this one. Even after he married Patricia, >Lamont's darkness is infinite. I don't deny you have your moments, >but you do not live and exist from darkness itself. @You're right,@ Eric admits. @I know this because I was, once.@ > "So. I call dibs on Rama-tet. Maybe this Felix fellow, too, unless >we have enough heroes to go 'round. Who else has a preference for >dance partners?" @*You can have him,*@ the Hunter replies to the group. @*I'm not interested in dance partners -- just knocking them off their feet.*@ Some time later. The "Soused Sphinx." Half the tables and nearly all of the chairs are overturned, a full third of _those_ broken. Nearly two dozen men (and one very tough-looking woman) lie unconscious on the floor or the bar itself. Two men are still standing. One, Jake Faith, leg breaker and 'protection' peddler, is normally the one who does the intimidating. Now, however, he cowers in a corner, a long shadow cast over his quivering frame. A hollow, terrifying laugh echoes around him. "I don't know _nothin',_ Hunter, I swear!" Jake cries. "I doubt that anyone would disagree with you most days, Faith," the Hunter rasps, a dark grin on his face. "I've heard that you work for a lot of people, though. 'Doc' Dunfy, Alif 'Mad Dog' Bayan...even Wu Ming, if the price is right. And sometimes...you hear things. For example, word about Mobius' latest...COMPANION." The smile vanishes, as does all black humor in his voice. Though he was standing in the center of the room a moment ago, he is suddenly on top of Jake, fists clenching the large man's shirt and slamming him into the wall. The Hunter towers over his trembling prey. "Word is, you were pretty cock-of-the-walk a few hours ago. Bonuses all around, the Scarlet Asp preening like the cat that ate the canary." He leans in until the stink of gin fills his nostrils, but the Hunter does not flinch. "I want to know why." Jake Faith is a lot of things. Crazy was never one of them. He doesn't spit on a shocktrooper's sandals or put himself between a slug and a squealer. It takes him all of two seconds to start singing a song in the key of 'survival.' And the Hunter smiles... =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Violet Persuasions and Suggestions On Wed, 21 Apr 2004 04:26:22 -0700 (PDT) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012051 >On Tue, 20 Apr 2004 22:51:00 -0700 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012049 >>Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012030 > >Egyptian 'Mathematics' is a combination of Terran astrology, >numerology, causation, and standard magical manipulation. Not much >numerology, though. Rama-Tet doesn't think much of the discipline, >says it has 'very little to do with the paths of Possibility and >acausal causation. Bleh." Hippolyta rubs back her hair. "Reminds me >of my calculus teacher, only worse. Anyway, by working magical energy >into and through certain formulae, they can do all sorts of things, >from making their actions simpler and more effective to, well, >bringing back the dead. Though they usually work with the priests on >that. Ignoring the gods can have...messy repercussions." UV nods slowly. This is a real mathemagician, albeit from a different culture. Given that she was not familiar with the Egyptian pantheon herself, this could get a bit messy. >"I don't think Rama-Tet _teaches_ lower-level classes. He's the High >Dean of the College of Mathematics. Fooling one of his lesser Deans >should be possible, but I'd be amazed by anyone who could even get >_into_ one of his classes secretly, let alone fooling the shriveled >old creature," the amazon replies. > "Even the Guardian never managed it," the Scarab adds. "I'd learn as much in the lower-level classes as I'd need, and I suspect you're right about fooling him. By the bye, who or what is this Guardian you keep mentioning, Scarab?" > The Hunter is quiet, physically. In his mind, he curses a blue >streak, trying to keep it to himself, but UV can pick it up if she >tries. (And she doesn't have to try hard.) @I agree.@ UV says wistfully, but cursing by a female heroine would undoubtedly be vulgar, and perhaps even Vulgar here. Doesn't mean she doesn't want to, though. >> "DC was supposed to try and herd us cats, but as I haven't yet >>heard from him, anyone else want the Worry Seat? If someone else >>does not, I'll have to. Though I'm just going to make suggestions >>and try to organize specific counter-attacks in relief if needed. >>Way I see things, you lot are all experienced and just need >>cross-messaging and an occasional helping hand if you let out an >>Ally-in-Free or Hey, Rube!" > > The Hunter grins. "Sir, I think you're on." > There are a few looks of confusions, until everyone realizes that >there's only one person in the room he could possibly be calling >'sir.' Doc Eon looks faintly aghast. It's the people you love most who can deal you the deepest blows - especially when they don't even realize they are. Ultraviolet shows no expression of reaction, the only discernible effect being she shields very tightly. Eric doesn't mean to make her lose face, and Eon would be a better leader, although he doesn't have a Lens to communicate. He could probably find some other way. Besides, she has already lost track of Karma, maybe she deserves Eric's seeming no-confidence vote. > "Hunter, in the past, I have done a passable job of keeping three >students of Science moving in the same general direction. I believe >Ultraviolet is being modest -- no surprise there," he notes with a >friendly grin to the Just Violet. "If she is overly uncomfortable >with the job, you would be my choice for it." [If I was overly uncomfortable, I wouldn't have mentioned doing it at all. Though I have to admit, I've never wanted to do it before. Maybe this place is getting to me, too.] But Ultraviolet, quite unlike Zia, says nothing, she merely watches the two men. Her expression remains absolutely neutral. > Eric sounds like he's being choked for a moment. Then, reaching >into his topcoat (UV and the highly observant can tell he's clutching >something), he stops and sighs. "The last time I lead a group into >battle, we started with over two dozen. Three survived." > "That was against Ventru himself," Doc Eon points out. > "Given what we're facing, I don't think that's relevant," Eric >replies softly. "No, it's ridiculous, that's what it is." The Just Violet says - as incisively as she would address an enemy, just not as coldly. "The last time you led a group into combat, +I+ was your worst problem. Or have you forgotten that conversation you had with the Boy Scout regarding me?" "As for Ventru, none of you, experienced and blooded as you were, expected to survive that combat. You demean their choice of death with this manufacture of guilt. Be glad that they entrusted you the honor of their deaths, their sacrifice. Do not demean it by assuming guilt - unless you truly deserve it. I can see what's in your heart, Hunter. You don't deserve it. Remember what they call me, here." The Just Violet just looks at him, her gaze as stern as her tone is firm and ... implacable. > "Watch her back," he finishes in a gravelly yet firm voice. Then, >with a leap, he is gone. Where did he leap? Into a shadow, out the >door, through a window? Everyone seems to think he left a different >way... > [Huh. This archetype has its advantages.] Violet clenches her fists. She works better alone, too, but apparently the Hunter didn't realize that was supposed to be an exchange, not a capitulation. She'll... bring him to a fuller understanding later. In private. For now, no rattling the hero when he's going into danger, even if he isn't showing her the same support. She can deal with it. After all, she has been doing this since long before he was even born. >> @Besides, love, there is no way you could be _dark_ enough to >>match him, now. Trust me on this one. Even after he married >>Patricia, Lamont's darkness is infinite. I don't deny you have your >>moments, but you do not live and exist from darkness itself. > > @You're right,@ Eric admits. @I know this because I was, once.@ [That is what I just said.] Violet thinks exasperatedly - and only to herself. >> "So. I call dibs on Rama-tet. Maybe this Felix fellow, too, >>unless we have enough heroes to go 'round. Who else has a preference >>for dance partners?" > > @*You can have him,*@ the Hunter replies to the group. @*I'm not >interested in dance partners -- just knocking them off their feet.*@ @*Are you dissing my style?*@ Violet demands, almost joking - but there is an edge to the question that is not quite humorous. "Very well. Anyone who wishes me to pass a message, think loudly my way. I should hear you. I'm probably the fastest rescue going, but I can only do it a few times a day. Quite tiring. Jack..." She sighs, stands, and her garb changes to a beggar woman's robe and veil, skin darkening - only her hair remains dark purple. Her robe goes a dusty once-years-ago-was-purple. "Can you disguise yourself well enough to walk the street with me without the stormtroopers noticing anything odd?" She watches him formulate a disguise, helping with details of garments and such. A few moments later, the tall Egyptian man makes his way down the street, his 'wife' six paces behind and carrying baskets of food from the shopping trip evidently interrupted by the civilian evacuation to shelters earlier. Their route just happens to take them by the college of Mathemagics, including any possible student-hangouts. -- Ultraviolet "Men. Takes a long time to train them, and the ones on your side, you can't even shoot at." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Violet Persuasions and Suggestions On Wed, 21 Apr 2004 12:35:40 -0700 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012052 >On Wed, 21 Apr 2004 04:26:22 -0700 (PDT) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012051 > >>On Tue, 20 Apr 2004 22:51:00 -0700 >>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012049 > "I'd learn as much in the lower-level classes as I'd need, and I >suspect you're right about fooling him. By the bye, who or what is >this Guardian you keep mentioning, Scarab?" Hippolyta and the Scarab glance back and forth briefly. Rex quickly defers to the queen. "Then you shouldn't have any problems," Hippolyta replies. "The Deans are smart people, but I doubt they'll be expecting heroic infiltration just to learn how they work. Rama-Tet might, but he can't be everywhere." She grins. "Wu Ming to the contrary." The Scarab answers more slowly. "There are many agents of justice on my world," he says carefully, "who wear masks or use a nom de guerre. Three, however, are known to nearly everyone. Our best and brightest is universally accepted to be Rocket One, leader of the Rocket Rangers. She is kind, brave, tough, noble, and smart as a whip. The most feared, our darkest mystery man, is the Wraith. They say he's half-demon, the result of some terrible ritual by Ahkemeses. Somewhere in between...is the Guardian, who isn't the most heroic, or the most feared, but he _is_ the popular image of the mystery man. Back when he was more ruthless, Mobius wiped out an entire small town on the basis of a solid _rumor_ that it was connected to the Guardiam somehow." He pauses again, then continues in a brief rush. "I can't be sure, but I think he's our cognate of your Blaze." > It's the people you love most who can deal you the deepest blows - >especially when they don't even realize they are. Ultraviolet shows >no expression of reaction, the only discernible effect being she >shields very tightly. Of course, Eric notices this, and is concerned. He wonders if he's done something wrong, but before the gears can turn far-- > [If I was overly uncomfortable, I wouldn't have mentioned doing it >at all. Though I have to admit, I've never wanted to do it before. >Maybe this place is getting to me, too.] But Ultraviolet, quite >unlike Zia, says nothing, she merely watches the two men. Her >expression remains absolutely neutral. The Hunter would have picked this up at another time. He's too busy having a seizure, though. >> "Given what we're facing, I don't think that's relevant," Eric >>replies softly. > > "No, it's ridiculous, that's what it is." The Just Violet says - >as incisively as she would address an enemy, just not as coldly. "The >last time you led a group into combat, +I+ was your worst problem. Or >have you forgotten that conversation you had with the Boy Scout >regarding me?" Violet is treated to a rare sight -- The Hunter blushes. He does not do so with full-on Roland redness, just some color dots in the cheeks, but still. > "As for Ventru, none of you, experienced and blooded as you were, >expected to survive that combat. You demean their choice of death >with this manufacture of guilt. Be glad that they entrusted you the >honor of their deaths, their sacrifice. Do not demean it by assuming >guilt - unless you truly deserve it. I can see what's in your heart, >Hunter. You don't deserve it. Remember what they call me, here." The >Just Violet just looks at him, her gaze as stern as her tone is firm >and ... implacable. "Hrm. There's still a difference between leading a hunt where casualties are to be expected -- even accepted, if such a thing is possible, and this...cliffhanger resistance cell, I guess one would call it. Dark avengers make terrible 'hero' leaders." He puts the shades back on. "I get the impression you don't want the job -- who would -- but frankly, you _do_ strike me as the best choice for it. You know the people and the reality. I _am_ biased, however." All said with an even tone and expression. > Violet clenches her fists. She works better alone, too, but >apparently the Hunter didn't realize that was supposed to be an >exchange, not a capitulation. She'll... bring him to a fuller >understanding later. In private. For now, no rattling the hero when >he's going into danger, even if he isn't showing her the same >support. She can deal with it. Hippolyta rolls her eyes and flashes Zia an understanding look that just says "Men!" all over it. ;^) Eric, meanwhile, vaults from rooftop to rooftop stewing slightly. There's more turmoil in his mind right now than any time since before his battle with the Tharkoldu gospog, from his first travel with the CAoL so long ago. [I did something wrong. I wish I had the slightest idea of what it was.] Alas, he, too, is shielding to heck and gone. Boy's a fast learner...in some things. > @*Are you dissing my style?*@ Violet demands, almost joking - but >there is an edge to the question that is not quite humorous. @*Wouldn't dream of it,*@ the Hunter replies as lightly as he can. @*It's just that _my_ style is 'stake it and move on.' Would that these Villains were so easy to deal with.*@ [Yep. _Definitely_ did something wrong.] > "Can you disguise yourself well enough to walk the street with me >without the stormtroopers noticing anything odd?" She watches him >formulate a disguise, helping with details of garments and such. "Hey, you're talking to the original 'Jack of all trades,'" he quips. "Gonna have to brush up on my escape artistry, though -- thought I was good, 'til Wu Ming got his mitts on me." > A few moments later, the tall Egyptian man makes his way down the >street, his 'wife' six paces behind and carrying baskets of food from >the shopping trip evidently interrupted by the civilian evacuation >to shelters earlier. Their route just happens to take them by the >college of Mathemagics, including any possible student-hangouts. Which, in any cosm, includes places to drink. A happily inebriated pair of grad students (easily determined by the way they treat the undergrads) laughs as they stagger along a sidewalk. More respectable citizens glare at them as they weave their way towards a building that has 'dormitory' written all over it (figuratively; the Deans frown on graffiti 8^). "sst!" Somehow, Jack whispers to the Just Violet like a character from a 30s B movie without calling attention to himself. "you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" The pair includes a boy and a girl of appropriate sizes... Simultaneously. "I'm looking for the Raptor," the rumbling voice echoed in the club. A ten-foot wide corridor cleared suddenly between the black-clad man and the aviator on the other side of the room. [Blind. Clueless. Idiot.] The pilot turns, looking derisively at his opponent. "And you, who are about to die, might be...?" "The Hunter." Several gasps. Small clusters of people crash through the doors. A waitress faints. "Even in Mobius' realm, there are cheap thugs like you who don't work for him. I hear you've had run-ins with the Scarlet Asp." [Oblivious. Inexcusable. Moron.] The Raptor laughs, dragging on a cigarette then blowing smoke at his tracker. "So?" The smoke doesn't reach him. "So you're going to tell me." [Brainless. Unfathomable. JERK.] He puts out the cigarette in a newspaper, burning away a picture of Violet and the Hunter rescuing Diamond Jack. "Why?" "Because if you don't, I get to..._indulge_ myself." The Hunter smiles coldly. [One thing about being a Dark Avenger...having an outlet for frustration is never a problem,] he thinks, thoughts still shielded, as a particularly dense barnstormer tries to sneak up behind Eric with a pool cue. In a classic reaction, one smooth, swift punch -- bringing his fist up over his shoulder to crack the man in the jaw, without so much as pivoting -- drops the man cold. The grins and chuckles vanish. The Raptor draws a pistol, then pales slightly as the Hunter laughs. "I was _hoping_ you'd be that stupid," Eric says, his voice echoing. A bullet *whangs* through the air. The Hunter is already gone. The laughter comes from everywhere and nowhere. "Thank you," he says direly. "My Flock! KILL HIM!" the Raptor cries, his voice cracking. The Raptor and his Flock are dangerous sky pirates, who fill the air with fear and bullets. Yet on the ground, tough as they are, they are little more than ordinary men. Predators in the sky, here they are only prey. Prey for the Hunter. Soon after. ['Zia, I'm sorry. I thought you were trying to get out of the job.' No. Honest, but tactless.] The Hunter leaps away from the roof, leaving a terrified Raptor hanging upside-down from a wind sock, screaming shrilly for help. ['You know I'd follow you into hell, don't you?' No. Too confrontational.] Bounding with amazing acrobatic skill, he all but flies across the city, heading back to the safe house as an invisible, shadowy phantom. ['It was just a bit of hero-worship. I...' Blech! Whiny and pathetic.] As he leaps across an alley, he spies a mugger approaching a wealthy couple and their young son. A baton rockets down, beaning the man in the head and knocking him out cold. "Wrong side of town," he growls menacingly, crouching on the edge and looking down at them. The boy looks up, utterly enraptured, but the couple is caught between fear and gratitude. [Being dead was so much easier.] "Thank you," the wife says, trembling. "Come _on,_ Thomas...Bruce..." Eric continues on, the reference completely missed. [Apology _is_ necessary, but insufficient. Throw myself on the mercy of the court. Only real option. Maybe do it with a theatrical flair...she seems to like that...] He darts down to a merchant's cart, picking up a bouquet of violet roses (amazingly convenient, eh? 8^) and leaving three times the woman's asking price. Her confusion and brief burst of anger vanish when she sees the money. Eric can _feel_ her immense gratitude -- that money will feed her family for a week. [Hrm. Empathy does have its advantages, though.] Screams. Of course. [Blast.] Eric carefully tucks the roses into a nearby vase (with just enough rain water to keep the roses alive, but enough schmutz to be undrinkable), then rockets over and down in the direction of the cries. An elderly man, fallen, his crutch just out of reach, cowers beneath...a giant beetle? "You've _got_ to be kidding me." But no, it's a beetle, all right -- bigger than a man, and hovering just over its intended victim. The Hunter sighs and leaps, kicking the thing aside and swinging with just enough momentum to slide the man's crutch back to his hand. "GO!" He goes. The Hunter turns back to face his opponent, no longer filtering his thoughts from the CAoL, but not sending deliberately, either. [Eight, maybe nine feet long, four-ish feet wide, two...ish feet high, not counting wings.] He dodges 'erratically,' pulling one of Doc Energy's knives. The beetle stays with him, but doesn't recognize the change in threat. [A savant among insects, but still a bug.] He pulls out the gun, firing at its head. The bullet scores the carapace, and it retreats. The beetle lands, wings folding under its exoskeleton. [Knows from guns, though. Deliberate presence, then, and experienced for an insect. Bullet-resistance. Vulnerable places...not joints or eyes. Wings, certainly...] he cocks his head to one side, noting how it leans forward slightly to protect its underbelly. [...and underneath.] He grins darkly. [Time to slay the donuts.] Eric leaps, dodging a fast mandible snap, rolls on and _over_ the monster, then kicks it in the rear, knocking its abdomen up. He then spins and grabs it, flipping the giant insect over. [Vital cluster should be...HERE!] he deduces, driving the blade in where the four sections of under-plating meet, albeit at a slight angle. It slides in neatly. The scarab twitches once, then is still. Eric climbs off, cleaning off the ling dagger, then replacing it. [Whew. Interesting smell.] Then the four sections of underplating pop open. The Hunter...stares. The innards spell a message. 'Timing Is Everything.' [What the _hell?_] More screaming. [Great.] Something tickles at the back of his mind, but there are too many other things in it for that thought to emerge. [Darkstock playing? Analyze later.] @/Monsters {} here. Am on Hunt. Inlaid message: 'Timing Is Everything.' Very odd. Will update soonest. Hunter out,/@ he sends in fast, clipped tones, then bursts forward again. OOC: Has Darkstock really gone off the deep end (even more), or is there a deadlier menace in the shadows? You simply _must_ read our next issue to find out! (Once I get in touch with a Sith Appr/H/H/H/H editor-slash-collaborator, that is. 8^) =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Violet Persuasions and Suggestions On Wed, 21 Apr 2004 16:32:18 -0700 (PDT) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012053 >On Wed, 21 Apr 2004 12:35:40 -0700 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012052 >>Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012051 >>"The last time you led a group into combat, +I+ was your worst >>problem. Or have you forgotten that conversation you had with the >>Boy Scout regarding me?" > > Violet is treated to a rare sight -- The Hunter blushes. He does >not do so with full-on Roland redness, just some color dots in the >cheeks, but still. Even Violet relents at that sight; some things in the world just _shouldn't_ happen, and the Hunter blushing seems high on that list. >He puts the shades back on. "I get the impression you don't want the >job -- who would -- but frankly, you _do_ strike me as the best >choice for it. You know the people and the reality. I _am_ biased, >however." All said with an even tone and expression. [The best choice after your first, Eric?] Violet thinks, strictly to herself. "I can't tell who would be the best choice. However, I have a duty to fulfill. Whatever I can toward getting the job done, I'll do. If that means leading, fine. If it means following someone else's lead, well... I've gotten much better at that." Violet forces herself not to put her own shades back on. She hates trying to talk to someone wearing dark glasses; even with her empathy, it's hard to read emotions without the eyes visible. "How about, I'll keep handling communication and coordination, and we'll freely improvise, everyone? I think flexibility works better in this cosm, regardless of other concerns." > Hippolyta rolls her eyes and flashes Zia an understanding look >that just says "Men!" all over it. ;^) Violet gives her a grin, and a 'well, what can you do, become an Amazon?' shrug, but her mood lightens to find a comradely woman to share the exasperation with. That's rather unusual for her adventures. > @*Wouldn't dream of it,*@ the Hunter replies as lightly as he can. >@*It's just that _my_ style is 'stake it and move on.' Would that >these Villains were so easy to deal with.*@ > [Yep. _Definitely_ did something wrong.] @*Somehow, I hope you really don't mean what you just thought - or else I need to drag you feet-first out of this realm ASAP. Casual murder of bad guys hasn't ever been your style that I'm aware of - and preferring it to a villain who seems to be going out of his way _not_ to kill us seems dreadfully unlike the Eric I know. Or even the Hunter I also know.*@ > "Hey, you're talking to the original 'Jack of all trades,'" he >quips. "Gonna have to brush up on my escape artistry, though >thought I was good, 'til Wu Ming got his mitts on me." "If you permit, I'll try imprinting what little I've learned of the art of escape as we walk - unless you're adverse to mind magics?" > A happily inebriated pair of grad students (easily determined by >the way they treat the undergrads) laughs as they stagger along a >sidewalk. More respectable citizens glare at them as they weave their >way towards a building that has 'dormitory' written all over it >(figuratively; the Deans frown on graffiti 8^). > "sst!" Somehow, Jack whispers to the Just Violet like a character >from a 30s B movie without calling attention to himself. "you >thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" > The pair includes a boy and a girl of appropriate sizes... Violet begins to understand how Jack might've been captured, and she reflects that sometimes, men really don't pay _attention_. She is the Just Violet, however, so she merely answers, in a stage-whisper perfectly attuned to reach only his ears: "Actually, no, I'm not." The smile in the tone takes effort, but she makes it. This is an ally who has shown tremendous courage and spunk today, in the face of severe failure and threat of hanging itself. "Those would be advanced students, and there is no way I could fool Rama-Tet himself if I even _began_ to think seriously about Mathemagic in his presence. Let's wait for a pair of lower-classmen." Ultraviolet is lingering with Diamond Jack, attempting to look very normal as the two of them pause for coffee at an outdoor cafe near the dormitory. > @/Monsters {} here. Am on Hunt. Inlaid message: 'Timing Is >Everything.' Very odd. Will update soonest. Hunter out,/@ he sends in >fast, clipped tones, then bursts forward again. Violet frowns, thinks about asking if Eric wants backup, then she cancels the asking his permission idea. To the rest of the CAoL (not their allies, as she doesn't have permission to Lens them), she asks, @Does anyone have the time/jets to fly backup on the Hunter about these monsters? It doesn't seem like a coordinated attack so it is probably an attempt to bait us out of hiding. Maybe. Something's fishy, but I can't pin it down yet.@ -- The Just Violet "Why can't you find a pair of drunken young college students necking in an alley when you really need 'em, drat it." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Violet Persuasions and Suggestions (fwd) On Fri, 23 Apr 2004 09:23:21 -0700 (PDT) Rob N Said As CAoL Message # 00012054 (snip of everybody moving out) Before he leaves, Rob glances at Hippolyta. *You're going to be hard to hide. Do you have any ideas on how you can move around without drawing attention, or would you rather stay here?* ---- Shortly after sunset, a guard reaches for a keyring that isn't there. Searching his pockets, he hears a jingle as his foot brushes up against his keyring. [That's funny. I could have sworn it was on my belt. Oh, well,] he decides, turning his thoughts back to his girlfriend. A grin forms beside him, then fades out. Rob quietly pockets the bar of soap, and moves on. [Not bad for a start. I have a detailed map of the palace grounds, and two key impressions. Now for a little eavesdropping...] =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Violet Persuasions and Suggestions On Fri, 23 Apr 2004 16:10:25 -0700 Patrick O'Shea Said As CAoL Message # 00012055 >On Wed, 21 Apr 2004 16:32:18 -0700 (PDT) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012053 OOC: Slightly modified from the initial FD post; > @Does anyone have the time/jets to fly backup on the Hunter about >these monsters? It doesn't seem like a coordinated attack so it is >probably an attempt to bait us out of hiding. Maybe. Something's >fishy, but I can't pin it down yet.@ Picking up on this, Patrick replies with his own psychic power. *I will go, if that is acceptable. My own training should allow me to evade detection until I am well clear of this place.* *Question: Once I am clear of this place, should I try to remain incognito, or make as much 'noise' as possible to try and draw Mobius' forces out to a different location?* If he is allowed, Patrick exits the room, facial features slightly altering to resemble the appearance of the local population. Moving carefully but with great haste, he makes his way to The Hunter's (OOC: Can I call him 'The'?) last known location. == Another giant insect, another helpless victim's scream. The giant insect rears up, ready to bite someone's head off, when a powerful psychic presence tries to make contact with it. Curious, the monster stops, wondering how this puny interloper is able to communicate with it. Or why it would even bother. (OOC: I see the 'Square-Cube' law has been repealed ;-) *Who are you?* Patrick demands, using his Magnakai Animal Control discipline to try and distract the monster from attacking. *Why are you attacking these people?* [Food most likely, but if I can buy those people some time to escape...] >On Thu, 22 Apr 2004 23:15:04 -0700 >Evil GM-San Said As FD.CAoL Message # 00000153 > > [Hunt. Kill. Feed. Expand.] Repeat. Apparently, human flesh does >double duty -- food and egg laying. > Its mind isn't very complex... "I see." Patrick replies, staff seeming to appear in his hands. "You two!" he yells at the no-longer-victims, "Run NOW! Back that way!" [Okay. Carapace is probably impenetrable, but it's mind...] Drawing again on his Mindforce, Patrick's Kai Surge reaches out and hammers the insect's brain. Enraged, the insect rears back, mandibles snapping wildly. Leaving the Kai to dart forward, and shove his staff into the underbody of the beast. The staff skitters, but has enough of a purchase for Patrick to send a bolt of mystic electricity through his staff and into the insect. Mortally wounded, the monster topples over, defeated. /Sir Hunter? I just defeated a second insect. Do you need help?/ =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Violet Persuasions and Suggestions On Fri, 23 Apr 2004 16:34:50 -0700 (PDT) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012057 >On Fri, 23 Apr 2004 16:10:25 -0700 >Patrick O'Shea Said As CAoL Message # 00012055 > >Picking up on this, Patrick replies with his own psychic power. *I >will go, if that is acceptable. My own training should allow me to >evade detection until I am well clear of this place.* @*Thank you, Patrick, that would be quite acceptable to me. Likely a bit less so to the Hunter, but that's his problem.*@ Ultraviolet finishes wryly, wondering if Eric will actually mind her calling him in backup. Probably. But it was what she would do for anyone else, so... she would have to hope it worked out, later. >*Question: Once I am clear of this place, should I try to remain >incognito, or make as much 'noise' as possible to try and draw >Mobius' forces out to a different location?* @*Considering you're going as backup, and this isn't a planned attack, my advice would be against the 'Hey c'mon and get me' approach, unless you have a deviously good escape method just waiting to be used. But I'm one of those who prefer to sneak and strike by surprise doing stealth ambushes and last-minute rescues. Your style is almost certainly different.*@ >Another giant insect, another helpless victim's scream. The giant >insect rears up, ready to bite someone's head off, when a powerful >psychic presence tries to make contact with it. Curious, the monster >stops, wondering how this puny interloper is able to communicate with >it. Or why it would even bother. > >(OOC: I see the 'Square-Cube' law has been repealed ;-) (OOC: Heh. Instantly appearing islands, Amazons, giant robots, Egyptian gods, and techno-toys galore, and you strain at swallowing a giant bug? Oooops, bad phrasing, huh? Giggle.) =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9n: A Damsel Distressed! On Sat, 24 Apr 2004 15:33:54 -0700 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012058 >On Sun, 18 Apr 2004 23:11:00 -0400 >Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012034 > > "Lights out," the Scarlet Asp says, firmly grasping Karma's neck. >A sudden weakness comes over Karma as her very vitality flows away. >In moments, the Scarlet Asp stands triumphantly over her unconscious >foe. She smiles. > "Won't Natatiri be jealous," she comments with dark amusement... Perhaps Karma catches snippets of conversation, perhaps not... "...very American dress, but her features..." "...want her prepared, Great Pharaoh?" "...n't stand on ceremony, Scarlet, not you..." "...pleases you, Lord Mobius..." "...yes, do prepare her. I'm curious to see the results..." "So. Finally awake, are we?" a woman's voice asks conversationally. The voice sounds familiar... When Karma gathers her wits, she finds that her arms are chained behind her at the wrists and elbows, with just enough slack that her shoulders are only slightly uncomfortable. Escape seems highly unlikely. Given the circumstances, the fact that her Stetson, blouse, jeans, duster, and boots are in a very neat pile several feet to her right probably bothers her more than the restraints. She _is_ clothed, of course -- pulps were racy, but they had limits. However, those limits were...not extensive. Karma is dressed like something out of Arabian Nights, wearing a loose, gauzy top (with a more opaque wrap around her chest), and translucent harem pants with enough of an opaque brief to keep her from being more than a racy PG. Curiously, she is also wearing a thin veil. Small, round bells have replaced her ear piercing studs, though she still has her necklace. Any significant movement proves the bells to be more than decorative; moving quietly is going to be a challenge. Small slippers complete the ensemble, which is all in shades of blue. She is laying on an obscenely decadent platform, which is cushioned with some impossibly soft substance and upholstered entirely in fine silk. Karma mutters, "Oui, je--" and attempts to rub her eyes, still groggy. Of course, with her arms bound, she can't, and that realization forces her mind into full wakefulness. Her clothes are the first thing she spies and she struggles upright, as well as with her bonds, only to find the latter quite unbreakable. Taking in the room, Karma falls back onto the cushioned surface with a muttered curse. The tinkling of bells, no more drowned in the noise of the chains, registers with her finally and her head raises off the mat, face perplexed, before she recognizes the source of the ringing. "You don't clean up half bad, kid," the Scarlet Asp notes, bringing a tray over to her. Various delicious-smelling delicacies fill separated sections. "Ask for the type you want, and the mechanical arm will feed you." Karma struggles again to sit up, though without her previous alarm, bells and chains announcing the effort. "I'm going to sound like some old lady's cat wherev--" Karma begins to grouse before realization dawns, "Ah, yes, that's the point, I see." Then her stomach overrides matters rather forcibly. With only a faint pause followed by a mental and physical shrug, she selects one of the items she recognizes and has a bite fed to her, after a little pause to work out how to deal with the veil. The mechanical arm seems to be programmed to move the veil aside. Ultra-Science at work, apparently. Naturally, she could have been killed five times over by now, so to save it up for poison in the food is needlessly extravagant. No, what she's wanted for is quite plain. "Impressive right you have," Karma remarks after finishing chewing, "What was that Vulcan nerve pinch you put on me?" She selects another item then asks almost rhetorically, "So, I take it I'm to be Mobius's new ... pet?" The Scarlet Asp frowns slightly. "Not pet. The Pharaoh has definite...feelings, about that sort of thing. Companion, perhaps. Lord Mobius does not allow his servants to take certain liberties with captive women. He takes a hands-on approach to sore muscles, but that's the extent of it." This stirs strange feelings in Karma. Logically, she ought to be relieved, despite the desire not to be touched at all, at least this is nowhere near as bad as it could have been. And yet, the answer to that question makes her extremely unhappy. She shoves the rising emotions down, looking away for a moment and blinking to hold back a tear. [Now is not the time!] she thinks angrily, and that seems to curb the surge of feeling, at least for now. She turns back to the Scarlet Asp, having regained her composure, and plainly scrutinizes her. "I'm nowhere near being on a par with any woman I've seen working with Mobius, so why's he doing this? For that matter, why're you doing this?" The Asp smiles coolly. "The Doctor likes to have an attractive prisoner at his side in the throne room. It's a matter of style, apparently." The smile vanishes, and her fingers drum lightly against one hip. "As for me, I serve the Pharaoh. No matter what." For the ferocity of the question, it is distinctly not an accusation of guilt, simply the query of a genuinely confused woman looking for some answer she can grasp. She's bewildered by the downright lavish treatment. As she's not Hippolyta, seeing her chained at the Pharaoh's feet wouldn't be any great message to any followers. In Karma's case, she hopes, it would spur more action against Mobius. "You're to be presented to the Pharaoh soon," the Asp notes testily. "From past experience, he'll find you attractive. As a helpless prisoner," Scarlet adds pointedly, "you are given some leeway. High Lord Mobius is as generous in victory as his position allows. However," she finishes darkly, "there are limits. Keep that firmly in mind." She claps. "Bearers." Massive robots, each seven feet tall and looking remarkably human aside from their steely complexions and rivets along seams, rise from slots in the floor (revealed as panels slide aside) and each take a pole attached to Karma's platform. They stand slowly and smoothly, carrying Karma and her gilded "cage" out of the chamber and into a very wide (big enough for two trucks to drive down side by side with room to spare) hallway. Various magnificent paintings, only a few of which depict 'the Pharaoh's great victories,' line the hall. Karma is able to catch a few of them sliding down over viewscreens as she is borne forward. Before long, magnificent double doors (each with a shimmering, moving mobius strip symbol on it) open, revealing the magnificent throne room. Servants bearing wide fans made from billowing feathers fan those present (though Karma doesn't see any chains on _them_). A handful of attractive women lounge on cushions, while two old men -- one withered and thin, the other still somewhat vibrant and in fair shape -- argue in ancient Egyptian. An obvious military man stands at attention behind a fantastic golden throne, upon which sits the mighty Pharaoh himself. He looks faintly bored, from his posture. Oddly, though it's hard to tell with only white eyeslits showing beneath the hood, he looks younger than any of the other men there -- well muscled and trim, rather more like a bare-chested Ardeth Bey than the dread Mummy. When the entourage enters, the Pharaoh sits upright, looking down with clear interest. "My, my, _my._ What have we here?" He stands and claps, and musicians stop playing, the two old men stop arguing, and several others glide out of the room as if on rails. "What is the American phrase...'you clean up nicely?' Yes. That you do." He strides down regally from the dais, the withered man instantly at his heels, whispering apparent warnings to the monarch. Karma purses her lips, attempting her best disdainful gaze, "So I've been told." Mobius seems oddly satisfied with her answer. "Spirit. Excellent. Scarlet, do help the young lady settle in. We will be entertaining soon, so your timing is as impeccable as always." The Scarlet Asp looks immensely pleased with herself as she directs the bearers, and Karma if necessary. As Karma lets herself be directed, a thought (Finally!) crosses her mind. She'd been sent, along with the rest of the group to try and get Mobius to join them if possible. What if she could turn this into an opportunity to do just that? But right now, the Pharaoh was in a good position, he had no reason to change that and go against whatever agreement he'd made with the rest of the High Lords. The Darkness Device. Darkseid had said it had been manipulating him. He'd staged that entire invasion to be rid of it and undue its damage to Suli. Destroyer said they served Oblivion, whatever that was. If Mobius's greatest weapon were going to betray him, that might be her best bet to get him on their side. But, like Darkseid had pointed out, it would have to be subtly done. Then there was the question of just how willing he'd be to hear her out in the first place. She was just an enemy. An enemy he'd taken alive. Like those before her. To be killed in public. As if to egg the resistance on. This was getting to be too much. Karma was afraid she'd lose her poker-face, so she cut that line of questioning off there. It was speculation, anyway. She prided herself on better. So, the plan was to slowly gain Mobius's confidence. For that, she'd need him to be aware of her existence. Not overly so, listening in was good as well, but being dismissed like a particularly lovely orchid after a moment of admiration was not going to get her anywhere. "So, what's up, doc?" Mobius turns, startled. Scarlet, in an oddly human gesture, facepalms. The withered man blinks at her owlishly, while the larger man he was arguing with puffs up in outrage. Then Mobius laughs. "Oh, I _do_ like you, miss--!" He stops, wiping his eyes as he continues to laugh. "Great Sebek. What _is_ your name?" "My Pharaoh, is that the sum total of your response?" the larger man blurts. "This--" "Is my business," Mobius says suddenly, voice cold and serious in an instant. The other man goes instantly silent. Then the Pharaoh chuckles, and the tension flows out of the room. "Honestly, Ahkemeses, some days I think you were _born_ old." "And do leave the summations to me, would you?" his shriveled sparring partner adds with a clever grin. "Shut up, Rama-Tet," Ahkemeses snaps. "That's enough, the both of you," Mobius replies, though this time, his voice is rather lighter. Neither man seems offended. Indeed, for all the man's posturing, mood swings, and outrageous style, his charisma is undeniable. He's just...likeable. (Of course, heroes would probably find him a lot _more_ likeable if he weren't a tyrant, kidnaper, and conqueror.) "Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I was asking this delightful young lady her name." He turns back to Karma, having pulled the lower panel in his hood down so she can see a winning smile underneath. "Karma," she replies, then glancing at Ahkemeses she adds, "'My Pharaoh.'" before returning her gaze to Mobius, "As I seem expected to be merely ornamental, may I request a good book to while away the time with?" -- Evil GM-San Be...our..._guest._ ;^) -- Karma Willing to be tied up, just not tied up and ignored. At least without something to occupy herself. :) =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Violet Persuasions and Suggestions On Sun, 25 Apr 2004 20:59:25 -0700 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012063 >On Wed, 21 Apr 2004 16:32:18 -0700 (PDT) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012053 > >>On Wed, 21 Apr 2004 12:35:40 -0700 >>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012052 > > "How about, I'll keep handling communication and coordination, and >we'll freely improvise, everyone? I think flexibility works better in >this cosm, regardless of other concerns." Eric nods. Doc Eon looks pleasantly surprised. "Never known you to take the Hot Seat, Violet." He smiles. "It suits you, somehow." >> @*Wouldn't dream of it,*@ the Hunter replies as lightly as he >>can. @*It's just that _my_ style is 'stake it and move on.' Would >>that these Villains were so easy to deal with.*@ >> [Yep. _Definitely_ did something wrong.] > > @*Somehow, I hope you really don't mean what you just thought - or >else I need to drag you feet-first out of this realm ASAP. Casual >murder of bad guys hasn't ever been your style that I'm aware of - >and preferring it to a villain who seems to be going out of his way >_not_ to kill us seems dreadfully unlike the Eric I know. Or even the >Hunter I also know.*@ THAT stung. Violet can feel it -- it might even bleed over to the others briefly, though Eric immediately clamps down on empathic 'bleed-through.' _Hard._ @*Nothing casual about it,*@ the Hunter replies in an almost business-like tone. @*Do you have any idea how much research goes into a good, solid hunt? Checking up on strengths and weaknesses, making sure you haven't been set up by some other schemer, making sure you're not going to have an entire magical species coming down on your a...tail.*@ He shrugs. @*And that we might be able to turn them is one of the complications in question. I usually go after the worst of the worst.*@ ^Ah, Zia,^ he adds VERY tightband and secure, ^you _do_ realize I've staked vampires in their coffins, right? I always made my kills quick and clean when possible, but monster hunting isn't a glamorous job, however fiction may make it out to be.^ >> "Hey, you're talking to the original 'Jack of all trades,'" he >>quips. "Gonna have to brush up on my escape artistry, though >>thought I was good, 'til Wu Ming got his mitts on me." > > "If you permit, I'll try imprinting what little I've learned of >the art of escape as we walk - unless you're adverse to mind magics?" "Nah -- I know it gives some folks the willies, but if you don't mind going through this mess," he taps his head with a wry expression, "neither do I." Jack's being modest -- he's not even particularly playboy-ish (though he does a good job of Wayneing the appearance of same). He's actually a rather skilled escape artist, in fact -- it's just that Wu Ming took that into account. >> "sst!" Somehow, Jack whispers to the Just Violet like a character >>from a 30s B movie without calling attention to himself. "you >>thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" >> The pair includes a boy and a girl of appropriate sizes... > > Violet begins to understand how Jack might've been captured, and >she reflects that sometimes, men really don't pay _attention_. OOC: Well, it _is_ a pulp realm. Opportunities like this just _do_ present themselves routinely. 8^) >She is the Just Violet, however, so she merely answers, in a >stage-whisper perfectly attuned to reach only his ears: > > "Actually, no, I'm not." The smile in the tone takes effort, but >she makes it. This is an ally who has shown tremendous courage and >spunk today, in the face of severe failure and threat of hanging >itself. "Those would be advanced students, and there is no way I >could fool Rama-Tet himself if I even _began_ to think seriously >about Mathemagic in his presence. Let's wait for a pair of >lower-classmen." Jack blinks. "Sure, it's your show." Pause. "you think they were subtle bait?" >The Just Violet > "Why can't you find a pair of drunken young college students >necking in an alley when you really need 'em, drat it." Morgan wise-arse OOC: Because it's daylight and they usually wait until after dark for that? ;-) OOC: Well, you _had_ a pair of drunken young college students. Is it _my_ fault they weren't young enough for ya? ...oh, yeah, I guess it _would_ be. But far be it from Evil GM-San to use the same schtick twice, sooo... An innocent looking freshthing (whoops, sorry, the College of Mathematics doesn't have an exchange program with IOU 8^) er, lady freshman with round glasses and her hair in a bun -- but otherwise a fair approximation of UV's size -- walks by nervously, looking over her shoulder. The pulp realm providing another coincidence -- or the first real one? A hand lashes out of an alley. She gasps, vanishes into the shadows, and is silent. "Blast," Jack snarls, leaping forward. It's obvious that he knows it may be a trap, but as a good pulp hero, he can't ignore such villainy. Fortunately, it quickly becomes clear that this is an all-too-ordinary situation...a man who won't take "no" for an answer. (OOC: And any examination of mathemagic reveals that some causality was bent -- by the young lady, hoping to draw assistance to her. Nothing more.) "please..." the student whispers. "Please? Please _what?_" a far taller man snaps. "Please stop trying to make you a half-way decent mathematician? Stop trying to keep the other teachers from learning how _soft_ you are? I've given you a great deal of help," he says ominously, stepping forward to nearly stand on top of her. "And I've asked for very little in return. Now, are you going to -- GN -- mph!" In the span of a tenth of a second, Diamond Jack has wrenched the man's arm at an improbable angle behind his back and covered his mouth. The teacher's expression transforms instantly from domineering contempt to gutless terror. "I may have done something very foolish to deal with you, creep," he hisses in the man's ear. The girl slumps against the wall in visible relief. "You can do _exactly_ as you're told, or I can take it out on you. Which will it be?" The faint, muffled sobs manage to indicate total obedience, somehow. "Oh, darn," Jack says with a deadly grin. If he's established mental contact with UV, he thinks loudly, [I apologize profusely, but I couldn't let this go by without doing _something._ Any ideas of what to do with the oaf?] He sighs. [At least the girl might be able to help us.] And indeed, the sudden brightness in her eyes indicates a _very_ strong desire to help you both...particularly in dealing with Jack's current predicament. =========================== Subject: AAE 9n: Worlds Enough, And Time On Sun, 25 Apr 2004 23:24:59 -0700 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012065 >On Fri, 23 Apr 2004 09:23:21 -0700 (PDT) >Rob N Said As CAoL Message # 00012054 > > Before he leaves, Rob glances at Hippolyta. *You're going to be >hard to hide. Do you have any ideas on how you can move around >without drawing attention, or would you rather stay here?* She blinks, regarding Rob for a moment. Then she ties her hair back in a bun and pulls a pair of horn-rimmed glasses out of a panel in her armor. "I'm going to need a severe-looking suit," she notes calmly. Then she grins. "The best part is, here no one will get the gag." > A grin forms beside him, then fades out. Rob quietly pockets the >bar of soap, and moves on. [Not bad for a start. I have a detailed >map of the palace grounds, and two key impressions. Now for a little >eavesdropping...] "His Imperial Majesty is furious, my lord Dragon," a smooth, Western voice intones, and Rob could be forgiven for thinking that he somehow slipped into the Wheel of Time cosm for a moment. Then the response snaps everyone back to (the current) reality. "Let His Imperial Majesty be furious," the Ubiquitous Dragon replies. "This realm has been a pleasant vacation, but more important pursuits will soon beckon. However," and Rob can almost hear the Dragon's smile as he continues, "I do believe that we can restore ourselves into the Pharaoh's good graces before the Champions' reinforcements repel this invasion." "Ubiquitous One?" the westerner asks, confused. "Doctor Eon," the Dragon replies, as if to a child. The satisfaction in his next statement, however, is very plain. "It has been a long time...oh yes, a very long time..." And the Dragon and his aide turn a corner, and the sound is beyond the martial artist. =========================== Subject: AAE9n: I Want You On Sun, 25 Apr 2004 23:53:26 -0700 Reality Hacker AJ47 Said As CAoL Message # 00012066 Jensen whirled around, looking toward the sound of the explosion. He took only a quick glance at the blurred pair of human bodies, focusing instead on the dull roar threatening to nip at their heels. Reaching for the binoculars, he quickly confirmed his worst fear: the blast radius of the cold bomb was near, and growing nearer by the second. [No time to waste-- which means no time to explain, either,] he thought to himself in a split-second. [Hope this fella doesn't take unkindly to having orders barked at him.] "Back in the car, and hurry!" he shouted, making a run for the driver's side door. "In the trunk, so you won't be seen!" Jensen peeled off around the next corner, leaning on the horn: warning, reckless driver next 0.3 miles. Upon releasing it, he narrowed his eyes as a familiar mask appeared in his rear mirror. "I said the trunk--" "I heard you," replied the fake Silver Scarab, "but it's locked. Don't worry, I'll take off the costume in a hurry. What *was* that thing?" A grimace flickered across Jensen's face as he changed lanes. "That was a weapon that has no place in reckless hands. A bomb, more or less cold instead of heat, but you look just as ugly if you get caught in it. Need to gain some distance on it, enough time to set up a counter to it. And now that it's my turn to ask some questions... what's with the costume, and what's with hitching a ride without even the courtesy of a warning?" "It's the damndest thing--" The passenger peeled off his mask; Jensen noted that he couldn't be a day past twenty. "--seems somebody got the bright idea of passing out a whole bunch of Silver Scarab costumes, so when things got in a pinch, they wouldn't be able to tell which guy was the real one. Some mad Spaniard thought the whole thing up, from what I hear. Anyway, I never seen the costumes myself, just heard about it, but I told some friends that maybe it was worth making up a few of them on our own. I made this one myself; good enough if you're looking from a block away, at least." "But you're a lot more than a block away from the real thing," observed Jensen. "Maybe you got your own reasons for going around in a mask like maybe somebody wants to do some not-so-pleasant things to your real face, you know?" One hand reached out to a jury-rigged police band scanner, rapidly flipping the dial until-- #last sighted approximately twenty minutes ago, southern end of Shari abd El-Aziz. Armed and dangerous. May be connected to unidentified shooting victim that vicinity, en route to hospital, condition critical, not expected to# The dial flipped again, cutting off the sound. "Don't bother to deny it, son... you got a lousy poker face, just went white as a sheet. Got anything to add?" "...I, uh, yeah," the young man stammered. "Didn't have a choice! He was one of the Dragon's men. He had me cornered! I told him I'd *get* the protection money, honest, just needed one more day, but of course he wouldn't listen. If the store owner hadn't told me about that piece underneath the counter, I wouldn't even..." Jensen shook his head. "Well, I doubt you could lie about that one, either. Trouble is, I know how their routine goes" - he gestured toward the scanner, indicating which 'they' he was describing. "If they didn't identify him as one of the Dragon's, then that means they're not *going* to; he got rid of the evidence before he half-croaked. Which means you just shot an 'innocent victim'. Which means they're going to want your head on a platter, and I seriously doubt I can talk them out of it." He paused for half a second. "On the other hand, I might be able to take care of it another way..." ------------------------------------------------------------ (One hour later:) The young man followed Jensen down a nondescript hallway and through a door labelled HAROLD SMITH. "Hello, Harold," said Jensen. "Haven't seen you in a while. This is that fellow we were just discussing." Harold Smith, a short squat fellow with a white mustache and a disarming smile, tapped away on his computer keyboard for several more seconds before turning around and offering a hand. "Pleased to meet you. What's your name, son?" "--" "Doesn't matter. Whoever he is, he's dead now. You, on the other hand, you're going to be working with us from now on." Seeing the situation well in hand, Jensen nodded and silently made his way out, back to the car. ------------------------------------------------------------ (Back to the present:) The car pulled into a quiet parking lot. Leaving the engine running, Jensen hopped out and went back to the trunk, quickly pulling out pieces of equipment and setting them up on the ground. "Still no time to waste," he said, mostly for the benefit of his passenger. "This will almost certainly black out half the city. It might not work at all. If it does, though... then a lot of people who were a bit slow on their feet might be saved." Without further hesitation, he attached a pair of orange-insulated alligator clip wires to the container of antifreeze, then carried the other ends over toward an enclosed metal-fenced area with a tell-tale DANGER: HIGH VOLTAGE sign. (How does Jensen intend to use the antifreeze? Will he electrocute himself in the process? And what missions will Harold Smith and his special computer assign to their newest agent? Tune In Next Week...) =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Violet Persuasions and Suggestions On Mon, 26 Apr 2004 19:26:02 -0700 (PDT) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012067 >On Sun, 25 Apr 2004 20:59:25 -0700 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012063 >>Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012053 >>> Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012052 > > Eric nods. > Doc Eon looks pleasantly surprised. "Never known you to take the >Hot Seat, Violet." He smiles. "It suits you, somehow." Perhaps quite to the CAoL Regulars surprise, Violet's face tinges red. She replies in a tone far more demure than Eric is accustomed to hearing. "Thank you, though I fear you flatter me, doctor." >> @*Somehow, I hope you really don't mean what you just thought - >>or else I need to drag you feet-first out of this realm ASAP. Casual >>murder of bad guys hasn't ever been your style that I'm aware of - >>and preferring it to a villain who seems to be going out of his way >>_not_ to kill us seems dreadfully unlike the Eric I know. Or even >>the Hunter I also know.*@ > > THAT stung. Violet can feel it -- it might even bleed over to the >others briefly, though Eric immediately clamps down on empathic >'bleed-through.' _Hard._ If she has time to, Violet raises shields of her own, helping him limit it to just the two of them. Her own chagrin at hitting him in what is obviously a sore spot is clear to him, but solidly encased behind careful shields from anyone else. > @*Nothing casual about it,*@ the Hunter replies in an almost >business-like tone. @*Do you have any idea how much research goes >into a good, solid hunt? Checking up on strengths and weaknesses, >making sure you haven't been set up by some other schemer, making >sure you're not going to have an entire magical species coming down >on you a...tail.*@ He shrugs. @*And that we might be able to turn >them is one of the complications in question. I usually go after the >worst of the worst.*@ > ^Ah, Zia,^ he adds VERY tightband and secure, ^you _do_ realize >I've staked vampires in their coffins, right? I always made my kills >quick and clean when possible, but monster hunting isn't a glamorous >job, however fiction may make it out to be.^ For a moment, Violet leans on her Lens. No, she has never needed it for telepathy, nor for strength of mind or will. No, instead, the ferocity of a pride far beyond human, a tendency to lash out in rage when that pride is offended, the legacy, she knows of her ancient heritage from the Chaos Lords, farther beyond demons than men have gone beyond monkeys. Where does he get the nerve, to lecture her? Does he think she accused him, when she actually said exactly the opposite? How out of character it would be for him - or him as Hunter? She said this only out of concern for _him_. Does he really think she has no better grasp of his character than this? The Lens on Zia's arm on Champion's Island flares to it's psuedo-life in a fierce polychromatic display, absorbing the useless reactions of flaring hurt pride, the willfulness, the need to hurt back when hurt. She is a Lenswoman. She can do this right. Ultraviolet, her mind now much clearer, responds to Eric so quickly he might not even notice the pause. @*Thank you for explaining, Eric. I was very worried that this realm was affecting your judgement. I did not want to fail you. As I thought before, that is _not_ your custom; I wanted to make sure. I am reassured.*@ ^Lover,^ she continues privately, ^I'm not here to be your judge - though I do not find you wanting. I'm not here to be your priest to hear your sins - though I shall always listen to you with care. I'm just someone who loves you.^ ^You consider death - even a monster's - of grave import. This proves you a decent, caring man, albeit one often times coated with blood or worse. Though I imagine the fight with Brimestone, Suli and Steppenwolf earlier made your top ten messiest fight scenes. If it did not, I shall be _so_ disappointed. If you tell me I'm punking out on you again, however, I might be tempted to prove I'm _not_ the sort to punk out. You _don't_ want that. Ask Roger.^ ^You are a Lensman, Eric. You are not unworthy. _I_ trust you - and my trust is not given often. You know that. You will learn to trust yourself. Then you'll believe I love you as you are. I know you, body and mind. I am not deluded, seeing some fictional image of you instead of you. I love you - knowing you. You can pretend otherwise if you wish. I shall not.^ > He's actually a rather skilled escape artist, in fact -- it's just >that Wu Ming took that into account. @Since I have your permission, Jack, this will be much easier. You're actually quite organized. Let me see; you're skilled enough that I probably can't teach you anything beyond variations, but here are some of Wu Ming's typical tricks, and my previous counters ().@ > OOC: Well, it _is_ a pulp realm. Opportunities like this just _do_ >present themselves routinely. 8^) OOC: Yeah, but we were supposed to specifically avoid Rama-tet, NOT crash his uppergrad class... > Jack blinks. "Sure, it's your show." > Pause. "you think they were subtle bait?" Ultraviolet bites her lip - it won't show past the veil like cocking her head would. "I don't know. Darkseid didn't know I was here, but my mathemagic against the ALE was not circumspect. This outfit is smart. They'll have intel from that fight. If Rama-tet is expecting me, I probably won't be able to see the jaws of the trap before it is closing." > An innocent looking freshthing (whoops, sorry, the College of >Mathematics doesn't have an exchange program with IOU 8^) OOC: Actually, the Actuarian's of Imaginary Numbers decided to - never mind. :) That's supposed to be secret. >er, lady freshman with round glasses and her hair in a bun -- OOC: Look! I found another Amazon! They're like, millions of them, dude, and they're everywhere, you just can't see 'em - they're Stealth-Bomber Amazons! >but otherwise a fair approximation of UV's size -- OOC: Okay, so I've never seen a _short_ Amazon. The bun thing confused me. :) >walks by nervously, looking over her shoulder. The pulp realm >providing another coincidence -- or the first real one? > A hand lashes out of an alley. She gasps, vanishes into the >shadows, and is silent. > "Blast," Jack snarls, leaping forward. It's obvious that he knows >it may be a trap, but as a good pulp hero, he can't ignore such >villainy. Ultraviolet is distracted by her Lensed conversation with Eric. By the time she realizes he is moving, he is already there. This realm really _does_ help pulp heroes. ^Possible enemy mathemagical permutation, Eric. I have to apply all my available jets. We'll talk more ASAP. Clear ether, love!^ > If he's established mental contact with UV, he thinks loudly, [I >apologize profusely, but I couldn't let this go by without doing >_something._ Any ideas of what to do with the oaf?] [A couple, but I'd like to get off the open street, if we can manage somehow, first...] UV does check the girl - and then the man, finding nothing immediately suspicious, mathematically derived, at least. > He sighs. [At least the girl might be able to help us.] And >indeed, the sudden brightness in her eyes indicates a _very_ strong >desire to help you both...particularly in dealing with Jack's current >predicament. "Honored to make your acquaintance, young lady." Ultraviolet 'says', letting her Lens make it flawless Egyptian of the appropriate timeframe. "We came to learn more about your studies, and if you have an idea what may be done with this vile personage who laid ill-mannered hands upon your esteemable self, we would be most delighted if you would make your desires known in this matter. Especially if this could be done in a more private place." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9n: Hang Time (Retcon) On Tue, 27 Apr 2004 20:49:45 -0500 Dhyrclhanc Said As CAoL Message # 00012073 "Mobius! I bid you greetings from Haroeris, Bastet, Sekmet and Mother Isis!" yelled bearded human figure, he appears in mid-air above the stocks, dressed in a version of Egyptian garb; including a knee-length skirt, leather mid-thigh-high boot-like leather sandals, a wide leather belt, a gold-colored roman-like metal banded-armor breastplate, a dark-colored fur cape billowing in the air and cinched at the figure's throat with a broach depicting the head of a great cat, plus a brass head-band with both the figure of a vulture and a cobra, a proto-typical Egyptian yellow and black striped hood-like head-dress and a golden scimitar in a scabbard at his waist. He appears in the midst of the conflict and began to shoot beams of golden light-energy from his hands, harrying the majority of Mobius' troops and Ultra-Tech war machines present at the, now, failed execution and away from the other members of the CaoL and their allies currently present. In reaction to the appearance of yet another interloper, Pharaoh Mobius will probably go into another apoplectic fit and begin to rant and rave about how he's suddenly being beset by heroes. However, once Pharaoh Mobius' and Doctor Energy's Mechas; B.O.R.I.S. and the "Robo-Sphinx", become involved with the fight, the figure is now nowhere to be seen in the sky. Don't worry, it'll all be made clear soon. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Worlds Enough, And Time On Tue, 27 Apr 2004 19:44:40 -0700 (PDT) Rob N Said As CAoL Message # 00012074 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012065 > >>On Fri, 23 Apr 2004 09:23:21 -0700 (PDT) >>Rob N Said As CAoL Message # 00012054 >> >> Before he leaves, Rob glances at Hippolyta. *You're going to be >>hard to hide. Do you have any ideas on how you can move around >>without drawing attention, or would you rather stay here?* > > She blinks, regarding Rob for a moment. Then she ties her hair >back in a bun and pulls a pair of horn-rimmed glasses out of a panel >in her armor. "I'm going to need a severe-looking suit," she notes >calmly. Then she grins. "The best part is, here no one will get the >gag." *Myself included,* Rob notes. It only takes a little shopping and a quick bit of sewing to come up with a suit that fits the description. Rob doesn't mind; his plans don't get particularly detailed until after sunset. >> A grin forms beside him, then fades out. Rob quietly pockets the >>bar of soap, and moves on. [Not bad for a start. I have a detailed >>map of the palace grounds, and two key impressions. Now for a little >>eavesdropping...] > > "His Imperial Majesty is furious, my lord Dragon," a smooth, >Western voice intones, and Rob could be forgiven for thinking that he >somehow slipped into the Wheel of Time cosm for a moment. > Then the response snaps everyone back to (the current) reality. >"Let His Imperial Majesty be furious," the Ubiquitous Dragon replies. >"This realm has been a pleasant vacation, but more important pursuits >will soon beckon. However," and Rob can almost hear the Dragon's >smile as he continues, "I do believe that we can restore ourselves >into the Pharaoh's good graces before the Champions' reinforcements >repel this invasion." > "Ubiquitous One?" the westerner asks, confused. > "Doctor Eon," the Dragon replies, as if to a child. The >satisfaction in his next statement, however, is very plain. "It has >been a long time...oh yes, a very long time..." > And the Dragon and his aide turn a corner, and the sound is beyond >the martial artist. As Rob digests this information, a squad of troopers marches around the far corner. They are in a close formation, one that barely leaves enough room for the air to slip between them. [Damn. It's a sweep for people who know the Secret Art of Invisibility.] Fortunately, this is a detail that has been run for weeks without catching anything; their flashlight sweeps are a little sloppy, allowing Rob to make it most of the way up the wall before they spot his shadow. As Rob flees into the night, he also gives thanks to the pulp universe, where mooks can't hit with the first shot. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Violet Persuasions and Suggestions On Tue, 27 Apr 2004 22:59:12 -0700 Eric Said As CAoL Message # 00012079 >On Mon, 26 Apr 2004 19:26:02 -0700 (PDT) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012067 > >>On Sun, 25 Apr 2004 20:59:25 -0700 >>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012063 >> ^Ah, Zia,^ he adds VERY tightband and secure, ^you _do_ realize >>I've staked vampires in their coffins, right? I always made my kills >>quick and clean when possible, but monster hunting isn't a glamorous >>job, however fiction may make it out to be.^ > > For a moment, Violet leans on her Lens. No, she has never needed >it for telepathy, nor for strength of mind or will. No, instead, the >ferocity of a pride far beyond human, a tendency to lash out in rage >when that pride is offended, the legacy, she knows of her ancient >heritage from the Chaos Lords, farther beyond demons than men have >gone beyond monkeys. > ^You are a Lensman, Eric. You are not unworthy. _I_ trust you - >and my trust is not given often. You know that. You will learn to >trust yourself. Then you'll believe I love you as you are. I know >you, body and mind. I am not deluded, seeing some fictional image of >you instead of you. I love you - knowing you. You can pretend >otherwise if you wish. I shall not.^ Eric is mostly pleased...except for the short hairs standing up on the back of his neck. He's not sure why, as his experience with women is rather limited. The instincts of the Hunter, however, tell him what no other sense of his can -- he just had a close call. Of what sort, he's not sure, but Eric _does_ know the first rule of holes -- when you find yourself in one, _stop_digging._ Eric's pause is just marginally longer than Zia's. ^Thanks. Love _you,_^ he replies emphatically. Then he has the good sense to shut up. >> Jack blinks. "Sure, it's your show." >> Pause. "you think they were subtle bait?" > > Ultraviolet bites her lip - it won't show past the veil like >cocking her head would. "I don't know. Darkseid didn't know I was >here, but my mathemagic against the ALE was not circumspect. This >outfit is smart. They'll have intel from that fight. If Rama-tet is >expecting me, I probably won't be able to see the jaws of the trap >before it is closing." Jack considers this. "you've done some remarkable things with purple makeup, though," he quispers (whispered quip 8^), then winks. >> An innocent looking freshthing (whoops, sorry, the College of >>Mathematics doesn't have an exchange program with IOU 8^) > > OOC: Actually, the Actuarian's of Imaginary Numbers decided to - >never mind. :) That's supposed to be secret. OOC: I bow to superior Fnord. ;^) >>walks by nervously, looking over her shoulder. The pulp realm >>providing another coincidence -- or the first real one? >> A hand lashes out of an alley. She gasps, vanishes into the >>shadows, and is silent. >> "Blast," Jack snarls, leaping forward. It's obvious that he knows >>it may be a trap, but as a good pulp hero, he can't ignore such >>villainy. > > Ultraviolet is distracted by her Lensed conversation with Eric. By >the time she realizes he is moving, he is already there. This realm >really _does_ help pulp heroes. > > ^Possible enemy mathemagical permutation, Eric. I have to apply >all my available jets. We'll talk more ASAP. Clear ether, love!^ ^QX -- hot jets, hon!^ > >> If he's established mental contact with UV, he thinks loudly, [I >>apologize profusely, but I couldn't let this go by without doing >>_something._ Any ideas of what to do with the oaf?] > > [A couple, but I'd like to get off the open street, if we can >manage somehow, first...] OOC note: The freshthing was dragged into an alley, so they're out of open view. Which is good, because Jack had a rather firm grip on the man's neck. > "Honored to make your acquaintance, young lady." Ultraviolet >'says', letting her Lens make it flawless Egyptian of the appropriate >timeframe. "We came to learn more about your studies, and if you have >an idea what may be done with this vile personage who laid >ill-mannered hands upon your esteemable self, we would be most >delighted if you would make your desires known in this matter. >Especially if this could be done in a more private place." The student gathers her wits, gives UV a hugely grateful look, then glares daggers at the now-whimpering teacher. "I want..." she looks down just below his waist, and the man tries to scream. It sounds like a weak croak given Jack's grip. She takes a deep breath. "No. I won't sink to their level." The girl sighs. "it's just that i'm so tired of...of being _afraid_ of them." She touches Jack's arm gently. "Hold him, please." Jack keeps a firm grip, wondering at the statement she made just before her request, as she places one hand on the man's brow and begins whispering a formula. (OOC: Zia knows what the student's about to do, and has time to stop her before she does anything detectable if she wishes. Otherwise...) It's a clever subtractive equation, especially impressive for its subtlety coming from a freshman. Not that the rescuee is suspiciously advanced, just rather gifted. The teacher's eyes roll back into his head. "Put him down, please," she says, and Jack lets go. The teacher slumps to the ground in what appears to be a stoned stupor. "He won't remember much, but he _will_ appear to have smoked a bit overmuch from the hookah, if you follow. I doubt that his colleagues will check any further; he has something of a reputation." She bites her lip. "At least, I hope they won't. I'm so sorry, but I can do no more with him." Jack looks to the Just Violet, to determine what (or what else) she would like done with the now-zonked (or still bug-eyed, depending) teacher. After disposing of the disposable, the girl looks at them with earnest, almost innocent concern. "My dorm is a few blocks from here. It'll be tough sneaking a man in," she adds, proving her naivete, "but I think we can manage." She looks UV over with slight concern. "Maybe you should be less...purple." (OOC: Obviously, there are difficulties, whether they go with her or go elsewhere; equally obviously, they find a way to circumvent them. ) "So," the young lady says, pouring them beverages of their choice (though in her dorm, the options are coffee, tea, milk, and water, with honey for sweetening), then sitting herself, nursing a tea with milk and honey, "how can I assist you?" OOC: Evil GM-San is evil but _honorable._ This is explicitly not a set-up, just FYI. >"Yeah, it was Ultra-violet, boys. Shall we tell the boss, or just >skip town?" OOC: ROFL! 8^) Just skip town, guys, it'll be easier. Meanwhile. >On Fri, 23 Apr 2004 16:10:25 -0700 >Patrick O'Shea Said As CAoL Message # 00012055 > >Patrick exits the room, facial features slightly altering to resemble >the appearance of the local population. Moving carefully but with >great haste, he makes his way to The Hunter's (OOC: Can I call him >'The'?) last known location. OOC: Yes, you can call him "The." He's dealing with it. >Another giant insect, another helpless victim's scream. The giant >insect rears up, ready to bite someone's head off, when a powerful >psychic presence tries to make contact with it. Curious, the monster >stops, wondering how this puny interloper is able to communicate with >it. Or why it would even bother. > >(OOC: I see the 'Square-Cube' law has been repealed ;-) OOC: Yes, by Mobius' stelae. ;^) >>On Thu, 22 Apr 2004 23:15:04 -0700 >>Evil GM-San Said As FD.CAoL Message # 00000153 >> >> [Hunt. Kill. Feed. Expand.] Repeat. Apparently, human flesh does >>double duty -- food and egg laying. >> Its mind isn't very complex... > >"I see." Patrick replies, staff seeming to appear in his hands. "You >two!" he yells at the no-longer-victims, "Run NOW! Back that way!" They run. >Mortally wounded, the monster topples over, defeated. At the same time, The Hunter looks down at a massive (over seven feet tall and 225 kilos) ankylosaur-man he has just slain. Though with his Lens, he knows that it had no more mind than a beast, there is still some distant echo of sorrow over its death. Faintly, he seems to almost see tattoos on its skin resembling the work of Mike Mignola (familiar to those who've seen Hellboy and Atlantis: the Lost Empire as well as his comics 8^). The strange oil that it exuded from its skin, now evaporating in death, seemed...wrong, somehow. Eric didn't know why, but -- >/Sir Hunter? I just defeated a second insect. Do you need help?/ The Hunter snaps out of his [unprofessional] reverie. @/Quiet Moon?/@ he asks. @/Never mind. Aside from the insects, there are lizard-men running around, all humanoid with features of various dinosaurs. Three types -- flying pteranodon-men, call them 'Pterok' for short, fast, sinuous velociraptor-men -- call them 'Raptok,' and huge, hulking ankylosaur-men. 'Anklok.' Cunning and dangerous, though these are non-sentient. The Pterok have a weak joint at the base of the skull just behind the crest, the Raptok are vulnerable to strangulation in the top half of their necks, and the Anklok are relatively slow, so targeting the eyes is feasible. Location?/@ he asks finally, clearly (thanks to the Lens) meaning Patrick's location. @/Good. I am {} here. Meet one block forward. One of us advances while the other provides cover. Repeat unless its predictability becomes a liability. Ready? Go./@ Eric is amazed how much he is...yes, enjoying this. Aside from the faint sadness over these strange dinosaur-things, The Hunter is in his element. Monsters threaten the innocent. This is his calling, and he is The Best At What He Does. The cold, empty feeling he had when doing this before is gone, replaced by a fire that consumes the confusion and guilt he felt before. It feels good. He still remembers to the inch, however, the exact distance and bearing that will return him to the bouquet of violet roses he purchased earlier. 8^) =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9n: Violet Persuasions and Suggestions On Wed, 28 Apr 2004 19:11:30 -0700 (PDT) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012080 >On Tue, 27 Apr 2004 22:59:12 -0700 >Eric Said As CAoL Message # 00012079 >>Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012067 > Jack considers this. "you've done some remarkable things with >purple makeup, though," he quispers (whispered quip 8^), then winks. "I'd admit making up _is_ one of my foremost skills." Violet smirks behind her veil. >as she places one hand on the man's brow and begins whispering a >formula. > (OOC: Zia knows what the student's about to do, and has time to >stop her before she does anything detectable if she wishes. >Otherwise...) Violet choses not to. When one is sure one's cover is blown, the best one can do is not continue to give away information without a demonstrated and pressing need. > It's a clever subtractive equation, especially impressive for its >subtlety coming from a freshman. Not that the rescuee is suspiciously >advanced, just rather gifted. Violet catches herself thinking of taking an apprentice. Now is _not_ the time. This young lady would have to be vetted. The Just Violet catches herself with a frown. This place _is_ getting to her. >She looks UV over with slight concern. "Maybe you should be >less...purple." Violet looks down at her faded lavender burnoose and abaya in some surprise, given how muted and native the cloth is, then she looks back at the student. A leap in intuitive logic seems in Order, so a question pursuant the most obvious causation is applied. "Have you, then, been instructed to be watchful for any woman clad in any hue of purple?" Violet makes a mildly gesture with her hands, and torso that is between a bow of apology and a shrug of helplessness. "My apologies, but the hue is constant, I can only adjust the saturation and the intensity. Although, I have learned since I last attempted - I shall try." After several moments _intense_ concentration, the Just Violet manages to shift the burnoose to a deep blue patterned with red trellis and flowers. She opens her eyes above the veil finally. Even Jack can discern this is very difficult, and she won't be able to continue it long. "Have to make time to check all my tricks," UV mutters. "Always good to have surprises in stock for the villains. Never managed this before." > "So," the young lady says, pouring them beverages of their choice >(though in her dorm, the options are coffee, tea, milk, and water, >with honey for sweetening), then sitting herself, nursing a tea with >milk and honey, "how can I assist you?" > OOC: Evil GM-San is evil but _honorable._ This is explicitly not a >set-up, just FYI. OOC: S'alright, I figure you wouldn't be quite so obvious about it - but an Evil GM has to do, what an Evil-GM has to do. :) "I have heard that Rama-tet practice mathemagic, that he has great knowledge of the gods, and he uses this to function as both oracle and soothsayer to the pharoah. I desire to study your notes, hear your impressions, explore the subjects being taught to extract what deeper knowledge I can." "However, as you are well aware, helping me learn of his skills and methods, what forms he prefers, may place you in some danger. As this man with me was in this very morning, if you've seen the pictures in the paper." "However, if you do decide to assist me, we can also discuss what may be done to assure your safety. I must oppose these men, and what they are doing to this fair planet and place." Violet pauses, then she hesitantly reaches up and unwinds the veil, showing this young woman her scarred face. "I know evil, but through opposing it, I have been healed of the terrible wound that evil dealt my spirit. I have hope once again. If you dare, please, teach me what you can." -- The Just Violet "Only I could wind up on a heroic mission to stop a world-spanning invasion force in ancient Eqypt (get it?) by cribbing a college freshman's notes." ===========================