Action, Adventure, Excitement, Part 9: Various Adventures Islands, ch. 3 Subject: AAE9V: Rolling Thunder On Mon, 27 Sep 2004 21:55:55 -0400 "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00012226 Cue: Men At Work: "Land Down Under." The SR-71 Blackbird had long been acknowledged as the epitome of high-speed, high-altitude aircraft design. Operating at speeds and altitudes so high that only an ABM system could touch it, the Blackbird's crews were long used to seeing sights seldom granted to other men. But even for Blackbird pilots, Major Thomas Marshall and Captain Lawrence Gibbs were setting a new "personal best" record for odd sights this week. Storms that reached high enough to threaten even the SR-71, beams of light that went up, and up, and UP to somewhere in orbit, and let's not forget the little games with the sun going out, coming back, and apparently having litters of smaller suns in colors ranging from day-glo purple to night-glo infra-black. So it was with a bit more resignation than apprehension that Gibbs called for Marhsall's attention over the intercom. "Uh, Tom? Check three o'clock, would you?" The heavy pressure suits worn by Blackbird crews didn't make for the best visibility or flexibility, but the big fishbowl helmets made up for it a bit. Marshall checked the autopilot and trim settings with a quick glance and then squirmed around to take a look out the right hand side of the canopy. And wished there was a way to rub his eyes inside his helmet. "Do you see that?" he asked cautiously. "That depends. What do YOU see?" Gibbs replied just as cautiously. Marshall sighed, and bit the bullet, as befitted a senior officer. "It looks like a kid dressed up like Charles Lindbergh, sorta, flying like Captain Comet or something... being ridden by a Leprechaun." "A really *sexy* Leprechaun," Gibbs added appreciatively. "I didn't think they came in that size." "...Gibby, you've been divorced too long." "You're telling *me*?" Marshall re-checked his flight instruments, just to reassure himself that the world hadn't suddenly turned sideways while he wasn't looking. Which, given the way this week had been going, wasn't exactly a safe bet... "You do realize," he said very, very calmly, "that we're doing Mach 2.7 at 83,000 feet?" "Yep," Gibbs replied glibly. "So what we're seeing must be impossible. But I've checked my oxygen three times, and it's fine. And flight crews don't normally suffer anoxia hallucinations in synch... do they?" "Not normally. But I think 'normal' has taken a vacation... *what* are they *doing*?" "...um, it looks like... they're... arguing over a road map?" Gibbs said rather weakly. "I was hoping I was hallucinatHELLO!" The flying pair's argument had taken on a series of vigorous gestures, several in the Blackbird's direction, before they had suddenly swooped up to a spot directly beside the canopy without warning. Marshall aborted his panicked grab for the stick and tried to will his pulse back below 270. The "comet kid" waved at them from about five feet away. He seemed nice enough, in a fresh-faced country-boy way. The green-clad woman, on the other hand, made him just a bit nervous, in an oh-my-god-my-mother-warned-me-about-women-like-this sort of way. Not that she seemed *hostile.* Far from it. But being eyed that way while wearing a pressure suit made a guy *really* uncomfortable... The lady leprechaun rolled her eyes, almost as if she could read his mind, and pulled a large whiteboard and kelly-green marker out of, well, thin air. *Really* thin at this altitude. She quickly wrote a message on it in large, clear letters, and turned it to face the pilots: "WHICH WAY TO , PLEASE?" "Gibb?" "Wait one, Tom." The Blackbird was old enough not to have fancy computerized map systems, but they *did* have GPS, and Gibb always carried a number of sectional charts in various scales covering the regions over which their missions would take them in his flight gear. There were a few minutes of shuffling sounds, then an "Ah-Hah!" from the navigator. Gibbs quickly scribbled a rough compass heading and range onto a spare sheet of paper, and held it up against the inside of the canopy. The kid smacked his goggled forehead with one hand, wearing an expression that just *screamed* "D'OH!" His rider, on the other hand, began giggling and rocking about with such intensity that Marshall began to fear she might fall off her young mount. Instead, she recovered and gestured at the kid with an impishly imperial air. The kid heaved an obvious sigh, reached into a pocket, and handed her what looked for all the world like a Polaroid camera. She grinned, wrote a new message on her whiteboard (when, Marshall wondered, had she erased the original?), and hung it around the kid's neck with a strap she hadn't had a minute ago. Then she hopped off, onto the razor-thin ledge formed by the starboard leading-edge chine, and strolled aft like a woman walking down an empty street until she was able to walk out on the wing to the engine nacelle. The kid rolled over with a longsuffering expression to hold the sign at an angle where she could see it. With a broad grin, she raised the camera, and waved her free hand. The kid waved back. So, rather numbly, did Marshall and Gibb. She snapped two quick pictures and did the usual "stare at them as they develop" thing. Apparently satisfied at how they had come out, she walked back up the chine, stuck one to the cockpit glass, and stepped nimbly back aboard her embarrassed flying steed. Marshall, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, waved until he got the kid's attention, and gestured with hands and eyebrows until he got his point across. Looking martyred, the kid rolled over (his rider, Marshall noted, simply sat atop the kid's glowing corona as if it were a rock) and showed the Blackbird crew the newest addition to his ensemble. The whiteboard read: AUNT ZIACTRICE'S DIRECTIONS ARE ALWAYS RIGHT. I WILL LISTEN TO AUNT ZIACTRICE'S DIRECTIONS. AND IF I EVER FAIL TO FOLLOW HER DIRECTIONS AGAIN, AUNT ZIACTRICE WILL NEVER LET ME LIVE THIS DOWN. With a cheerful wave and a blown kiss, his rider kneed him away from the Blackbird, and they peeled off onto a course following Gibb's vector. The two USAF officers watched silently until the kid's glowing corona passed out of visual range, then looked at the Polaroid stuck to their cockpit canopy. It was apparently attached, in a Mach 2.7 slipstream, with a kiss's worth of lipstick, and had a quickly scrawled note in incredibly neat, tiny penmanship across the bottom margin: "Thanks for the directions, boys. Hope this helps prove you're not crazy." Marshall played back the sequence of events in his mind, and was not really surprised to realize that she had never stopped to either kiss that photo, or write on it. "You know," Marshall mused, "it says something about the week we've been having when *that* really doesn't weird me out." "Yeah. They were polite, though. Not like those dragon-things over England, though." "Brr. *Don't* remind me. Lucky for us they couldn't take sonic booms." "Yeah. Okay, we're coming up on our next waypoint in ten. Remember, we have to avoid lower India on this run -- whatever's been killing all the Keyholes wouldn't have any problem with us." "Teach your grandma to suck eggs, why don't you? Gimme a bearing." Meanwhile: "Aunt Zee, do you MIND? I am NOT a 'little doggie'." TO BE CONTINUED.... OOC: Okay, that was supposed to be *short.* But I started to think about what Roger and Zia would look like from the *outside,* and... =========================== Subject: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Sun, 17 Oct 2004 14:37:45 -0700 (PDT) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012233 It's cold at 83,000ft. But that's not much of a concern for the slightly-late pair arriving above the island. Thunder stands on his head, rather like a trained dolphin, Emerald Zia sticking to her seat on his corona in a way fit to make professional rodeo riders go into other lines of work -- accounting, say. "So, that's it, Aunt Zee?" "Yes. I'm afraid we missed our first window of opportunity, but I sense another coming shortly." Thunder grabs one lens of his goggles and twists, zooming in on the island (which looks like a flyspeck from this altitude). "We've already got friends on the ground, down theah," he notes. "How'm I gonna not hit 'em?" "Leave that to me," the Leprechaun says calmly. "HoOW?!" Thunder's query Dopplers up into a sqauwk as she takes firm hold of both his ears. The crosshairs in his goggles snap to one particular point of the island, and remain there firmly. "....okay, that'll work. Um, Aunt Zee? You might wanna bail out before we hit -- this's likely to get kinda rough." "Why, Thundie," the Chromatic Zia purrs, "when did you get the impression that I can't handle... rough?" Thunder, being Thunder, misses the innuendo, but feels a tad uneasy nonetheless. "Well, ah guess you can just 'bout handle anything, Aunt Zee. But it don't pay not to be extra careful-like." "Thank you, but I'll be fine." Emerald's expression tightens slightly. "This is it -- when I give the word, put us on a perfectly vertical trajectory to strike the island surface in precisely 7.8 seconds. Contain your shockwave, drill a shaft about twelve meters in diameter, and keep going down until I say stop." Thunder's aura pulses and begins to brighten as it charges up to a higher level. "Right. Ah'm ready." "Very well. In three... two... one... NOW!" There is a thunderclap of air re-closing a sudden void, and the two are gone. Cue: AC/DC: "Thunderstruck" >The floor heaves and the walls themselves shake. The blurred (except >perhaps to Orchid) form of Roger Thunder streams by, incidentally >eliminating the Anklok-impression wall and most of the floor in an >eighteen foot radius underneath. A furiously green, glowing - was >that really a Chromatic Zia dressed as a Leprechaun?!? - something >rides Thunder's shoulders despite his collision - er, - destruction? >Er, descent> Ah, unplanned express elevator route to the bottom of >the works - regardless, something - or someone - in bright Kelly >green drops with him. Only the vaguest words linger, something on the >order of 'next time, we shoud turn left at Albuquerque'. OOC: =========================== Subject: AAE9v: Re: Exit, Stage Rescue On Mon, 18 Oct 2004 10:38:12 -0400 Dhyrclhanc Said As CAoL Message # 00012235 Just before Tink leaves the Slingshot, along with the Rescue Team, consisting of Jaguar, Seeker, Obsidian, and being led by RedZia and Steppenwolf, Sikorski approaches Tink to apologize for his earlier, presumptive, and rude behavior. "Madam Tinkerbell, while all the information available to me indicates that true Vampirism is a mystical disease and I was only designed to deal with, loosely speaking, mundane diseases. However, it was presumptive of me to have made any diagnosis regarding what this 'Queen of Spades' person may have done to Mr. Lancer before having him under my care. For this, you have my deepest and most humble apologies." =========================== Subject: AAE 9v: Blood is Thicker Than... On Mon, 18 Oct 2004 20:32:56 -0700 (PDT) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012236 >Eric Lancer, A.K.A. The Hunter Said >As CAoL Message # 00012220 Somewhere deep in the Fortress of Tortoise: >"You first," Eric says, now staring murderously at the agonized, >enraged beast. > @^Plan?^@ he sends, thoughts clouded beyond the ability to express >himself further. "Actually, I'm on second." Ultraviolet returns with a sudden, savage smile. "The cavalry just torpedoed in." From the hallway beyond, where another hissing cloud of heads weave their venemous web of hazard, comes first a thrumming roar strangely familiar in melody. It is interrupted, however, by a blast of fierce, Fae magic strong enough to have been felt by the magically sensitive for hundreds of miles. The green energies of the spell wrap around the unlikely monstrosity of the double-ended, seven-headed hyrda-walrus. The beast shrinks, slowly at first, then with incredible speed... slowing only as it approaches the size of a basketball, then stopping at about six inches high. "If the fair colleen or another of you can deal with the likes of that thorn bed," Zia's own voice, albeit dressed up with a mix of Latin-Middle-English lilt, comes softly from one of the arriving rescuers - apparently addressing another woman even as the familiar stoutness of Steppenwolf looms behind the two. The intervening area of hall, between the two, is strewn with the remains of thorn-plants, somewhat mauled by the bulk of the now not-so-monstrous monster. Another woman steps forward to stand right next to the... can that really be Zia? Either one of them? It's hard to say which outfit is harder to imagine her wearing, but his senses, even from this far away, still scream that all three are the one woman he knows by scent, sight and sound very well indeed. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Re: Exit, Stage Rescue On Thu, 21 Oct 2004 03:50:16 +0100 Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012238 >On Mon, 18 Oct 2004 10:38:12 -0400 >Said As CAoL Message # 00012235 > >"Madam Tinkerbell, while all the information available to me >indicates that true Vampirism is a mystical disease and I was only >designed to deal with, loosely speaking, mundane diseases. However, >it was presumptive of me to have made any diagnosis regarding what >this 'Queen of Spades' person may have done to Mr. Lancer before >having him under my care. For this, you have my deepest and most >humble apologies." Tink nods as she prepares to go through the portal after the others, "Yes, it was presumptuous. Yes, your apology is accepted. No, you are not yet off the hook. Make your best effort. We'll talk and I'll take over if need be when I get back. You may get lucky and this isn't mystical in nature. Won't know 'til we get him back anyway. Ta, back soon." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Mon, 08 Nov 2004 21:23:38 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012245 >On Sun, 17 Oct 2004 14:37:45 -0700 (PDT) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012233 > >The floor heaves and the walls themselves shake. The blurred (except >perhaps to Orchid) form of Roger Thunder streams by, incidentally >eliminating the Anklok-impression wall and most of the floor in an >eighteen foot radius underneath. A furiously green, glowing - was >that really a Chromatic Zia dressed as a Leprechaun?!? - something >rides Thunder's shoulders despite his collision - er, - destruction? >Er, descent> Ah, unplanned express elevator route to the bottom of >the works - regardless, something - or someone - in bright Kelly >green drops with him. Only the vaguest words linger, something on the >order of 'next time, we shoud turn left at Albuquerque'. The Champions look at one another, then at the devastation. As one, they say, "Roger." Steppenwolf merely sighs in his gravelly voice, slicing an Anklok neatly in half with his Electro-Axe just as it prepares to charge. At the heroes' horrified stares, he stares back in confusion for a moment before comprehension sinks in. "Oh. Sorry." >Several of the still-ambulatory type of dino-men tumble into said >hole. leaving things rather quiet up on the top of said hole. Until a >jet-engine loud hiss in septupulet echoes up the Thunder-driven hole, >at least, faintly followed by the comparitively quieter sound of a >.45 speaking authoritively, if quickly. Those Champions present share the briefest of glances, then in one supremely coordinated blur, take out the rest of the Dragon Kings (dino-men) in moments. >Red Zia glows, waxing and waning suddenly - even her Lens following >suit. She leans abruptly against a nearby wall to catch her balance. > >"We'd.. better hurry. My projections are .. overloaded." Her Lens >abruptley blues out, and for a moment, Zia's eyes and thoughts don't >track with the here and now. Then her Lens becomes polychromatic, >instead of only blue, again, and her eyes re-focus. > >"Hurry." She says, leaping into the hole with utter disregard for how >she'll land. "Great Thunder!" Orchid gasps, racing after her (running down _along_ the wall of the hole). Jaguar looks at Seeker in confusion. "'Great Thunder?'" Seeker chuckles wryly. "Defender's childhood hero -- the second Flash -- used that epithet often." "Ah." Jaguar nods. Both heroes then jump down after the two women. Steppenwolf slaps his forehead. "Am I the _only_ sentient here who has heard of looking before leaping?" (OOC: Cue Tink ;^) The New God of War sighs. "Ah well. If I had any sense, I would live on New Genesis anyway. DIE FOR DARKSEID!" Not much of a battle cry, but what it lacks in sense it makes up in sheer spine-tingling. Steppenwolf leaps. >On Mon, 18 Oct 2004 20:32:56 -0700 (PDT) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012236 > >>Eric Lancer, A.K.A. The Hunter Said >>As CAoL Message # 00012220 > >Somewhere deep in the Fortress of Tortoise: > >>"You first," Eric says, now staring murderously at the agonized, >>enraged beast. >> @^Plan?^@ he sends, thoughts clouded beyond the ability to >>express himself further. > > "Actually, I'm on second." Ultraviolet returns with a sudden, >savage smile. "The cavalry just torpedoed in." From the hallway >beyond, where another hissing cloud of heads weave their venemous web >of hazard, comes first a thrumming roar strangely familiar in melody. >It is interrupted, however, by a blast of fierce, Fae magic strong >enough to have been felt by the magically sensitive for hundreds of >miles. Eric winces. @Turn it down, will you--@ he begins. Then Infra-Red's diabolic temptation redoubles as Zia does the same. > The green energies of the spell wrap around the unlikely >monstrosity of the double-ended, seven-headed hyrda-walrus. The beast >shrinks, slowly at first, then with incredible speed... slowing only >as it approaches the size of a basketball, then stopping at about six >inches high. Too strung out to Spock an eyebrow, he points his faux .45 at the super-slug and look in the direction of the Glamour. > "If the fair colleen or another of you can deal with the likes of >that thorn bed," Zia's own voice, albeit dressed up with a mix of >Latin-Middle-English lilt, comes softly from one of the arriving >rescuers - apparently addressing another woman even as the familiar >stoutness of Steppenwolf looms behind the two. "One moment." Eric glares at the miniaturized beast -- no, he's carefully sighting it. (No one present has ever seen him need to use so much concentration when aiming.) With practiced calm, he squeezes the trigger. The hydra/walrus/slug explodes in a tiny-yet-epic display of pyrotechnics. > The intervening area of hall, between the two, is strewn with the >remains of thorn-plants, somewhat mauled by the bulk of the now >not-so-monstrous monster. Orchid grins, then snatches Seeker's spare katana from his back. Faster than the eye can follow, she turns the deadly vines into so much mulch. > Another woman steps forward to stand right next to the... can that >really be Zia? Either one of them? It's hard to say which outfit is >harder to imagine her wearing, but his senses, even from this far >away, still scream that all three are the one woman he knows by >scent, sight and sound very well indeed. "Hnn." Three of them. THREE of them. A lesser man would have exploded by now. To be honest, Eric looks to be reaching his threshold. "Fight or flight?" Eric asks, not quite monosyllabic but getting there. "I vote fight. Paint the town..." he looks at RedZia. "Hrm. Let's end this." -- Eric Lancer: The Hunter He's gotta take it out on SOMEBODY! =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Sat, 13 Nov 2004 12:54:18 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012248 >On Mon, 08 Nov 2004 21:23:38 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012245 > > "One moment." Eric glares at the miniaturized beast -- no, he's >carefully sighting it. (No one present has ever seen him need to use >so much concentration when aiming.) With practiced calm, he squeezes >the trigger. The hydra/walrus/slug explodes in a tiny-yet-epic >display of pyrotechnics. UV throws him a look of concern, but this is not the proper time. Not that she has any idea what can be done to help him, yet, either. > "Hnn." Three of them. THREE of them. A lesser man would have >exploded by now. To be honest, Eric looks to be reaching his >threshold. > "Fight or flight?" Eric asks, not quite monosyllabic but getting >there. "I vote fight. Paint the town..." he looks at RedZia. "Hrm. >Let's end this." "If IR is true to form, she'll be long gone, but if you want - " Ultraviolet cuts off, as she, the Zia in Red, and even the oddly dressed green one stiffen simultaneously. The unforgettable odor of scorched flesh mixed with burning fabric hits Eric's senses, as the deep burn the Blue Rose took from a ray gun instantly wounds all the Chromatic Zia-splits. The damage is spead amongst all of them, but severe enough despite the division of the force. "Ch-change of plan." The Just Violet rasps, her voice rough against the pain. "Orchid, you and I open the way. Get me out of range and I can heal this in light-form. Red, stay with 'em. Green - you know where you're needed." Through the mask, her gaze meets Eric's. "Don't do anything I wouldn't, eh?" She teases, though he can see the concern in her eyes. The Green Zia lays her finger by the side of her nose, grins once - and then she vanishes like the Cheshire Cat - smile last. UV takes Orchids assistance, and once at a out of light-shed from Eric, she slowly transforms back to ultraviolet again, retaining a brillaint violet to blind anything that blocks the route back to the surface. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 00:41:43 -0000 Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012249 >On Mon, 08 Nov 2004 21:23:38 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012245 >>On Sun, 17 Oct 2004 14:37:45 -0700 (PDT) >>Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012233 >> >>The floor heaves and the walls themselves shake. The blurred (except >>perhaps to Orchid) form of Roger Thunder streams by, incidentally >>eliminating the Anklok-impression wall and most of the floor in an >>eighteen foot radius underneath. A furiously green, glowing - was >>that really a Chromatic Zia dressed as a Leprechaun?!? - something >>rides Thunder's shoulders despite his collision - er, - destruction? >>Er, descent> Ah, unplanned express elevator route to the bottom of >>the works - regardless, something - or someone - in bright Kelly >>green drops with him. Only the vaguest words linger, something on >>the order of 'next time, we shoud turn left at Albuquerque'. > > The Champions look at one another, then at the devastation. As >one, they say, "Roger." > Steppenwolf merely sighs in his gravelly voice, slicing an Anklok >neatly in half with his Electro-Axe just as it prepares to charge. > At the heroes' horrified stares, he stares back in confusion for a >moment before comprehension sinks in. "Oh. Sorry." Tink chuckles at Roger's/Green Zia's arrival, then her face turns neutral with regard to the action/reaction/realization of Steppenwolf, simply nodding in acceptance of the general's apology. >>Several of the still-ambulatory type of dino-men tumble into said >>hole. leaving things rather quiet up on the top of said hole. Until >>a jet-engine loud hiss in septupulet echoes up the Thunder-driven >>hole, at least, faintly followed by the comparitively quieter sound >>of a .45 speaking authoritively, if quickly. > > Those Champions present share the briefest of glances, then in one >supremely coordinated blur, take out the rest of the Dragon Kings >(dino-men) in moments. Tink's attention flickers for a moment toward events around the gaping hole as she surrepticiously removes the plummeting Dragon Kings from the midst of their fall. She then subdues the Anklosaur man she had been fighting with a precise nerve-cluster strike that forces him into reptilian unconsciousness. >>Red Zia glows, waxing and waning suddenly - even her Lens following >>suit. She leans abruptly against a nearby wall to catch her balance. Tink doesn't move, but her face plainly says she wants to get the Zias out of there as quickly as possible. >>"We'd.. better hurry. My projections are .. overloaded." Her Lens >>abruptley blues out, and for a moment, Zia's eyes and thoughts don't >>track with the here and now. Then her Lens becomes polychromatic, >>instead of only blue, again, and her eyes re-focus. Tink's face is a mixture of sympathy and concern. She nods at the request to hurry, already making plans. >>"Hurry." She says, leaping into the hole with utter disregard for >>how she'll land. Then Tink's smile breaks out again. ^Hey, farmboy,^ Tink sends in a passable Midwestern accent, ^Incomin' friendlies down yer rabbit hole, 12 o'clock high.^ > Both heroes then jump down after the two women. > Steppenwolf slaps his forehead. "Am I the _only_ sentient here who >has heard of looking before leaping?" > (OOC: Cue Tink ;^) "Oh they have, General," Tink says with a grin, "It's simply against the Classic Hero's Code. At least they had the good sense not to make it a swan dive." > The New God of War sighs. "Ah well. If I had any sense, I would >live on New Genesis anyway. DIE FOR DARKSEID!" Not much of a battle >cry, but what it lacks in sense it makes up in sheer spine-tingling. >Steppenwolf leaps. Tink chuckles, then looks up at the ceiling. The hapless Dragon Kings who'd fallen down Roger's hole in the ground suddenly fall on the ground in front of her. Forcefields spring up around each of the lizard men in similar fashion to the one that held Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars Episode 2. Tink administers an eight-hour sedative to each of the lizards, attumed for their particular body type, then tends their wounds at a speed that leaves her as blurred as Orchid. When she finishes with them, she turns to the one Steppenwolf sliced in half. She blurs over his form and when she stops, he's rejoined and breathing again, also asleep for eight hours as with his bretheren. "There," Tink remarks, "I think Defender would approve." The forcefields manipulate the Dragon Kings into prone and comfortable positions, then dissipate. Tink turns to the hole and strolls forward. She picks up her pace as she nears the edge, her last step is as if she'd made it off a diving board. Arcing high into the air, she swan-dives into the black of the pit. > Orchid grins, then snatches Seeker's spare katana from his back. >Faster than the eye can follow, she turns the deadly vines into so >much mulch. "It slices, it dices, it makes thousands of julienne fries," Tink quips from behind Steppenwolf, "It's the amazing Gin-sidhe." >On Sat, 13 Nov 2004 12:54:18 -0800 (PST) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012248 > > A troupe of Ziactrices. A cast of Ziactrices. > UV takes Orchids assistance, and once at a out of light-shed from >Eric, she slowly transforms back to ultraviolet again, retaining a >brillaint violet to blind anything that blocks the route back to the >surface. Tink nods, pulling out a medical tricorder. "That leaves you two," Tink says, meaning RedZia and Eric, "Sikorski's going to need to know both your conditions, and since I'm playing field medic and evac, my job's to check you both out and get you off the playing field if need be. Fair warning, claiming you are fine or you will manage will get you sent back for sure. If we can treat it and keep going, rest assured we will if that turns out to be the plan. Right now, sounds like at least one of you is of a mind to cut this short anyway since we've obtained the objective." And the scan's done. To RedZia, she says, "I can give you something for that shoulder to ease the pain but it needs proper treatment. You may be able to continue, depending on whether it's going to distract you or not. You're stretched pretty thin already and at least one of you is in the Middle of Something." "Hunter, those hands need major work and you're already Distracted. Going on after Infra-Red is not a good idea, but if you can keep it together and we aren't thrown anything that requires you to have full use of your hands, you could probably manage." @That said,@ Tink sends, holding up her lensed wrist, @As field medic, you are both ordered to lean on my lens until we can get you both secured aboard the Champion's plane and Sikorski and I can do our thing. Said leaning will be under Lensman's Seal, further it will not be recorded, spoken of even under torture, pried into or otherwise held in anything less than strictest confidence. You can't even get that promise from a modern day doctor or therapist. My concern is that you're not in the best position to support each other at the moment, especially with so many others around, and I've got jets to spare.@ =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Sat, 13 Nov 2004 21:03:57 -0800 Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012250 >Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012249 > >@That said,@ Tink sends, holding up her lensed wrist, @As field >medic, you are both ordered to lean on my lens until we can get you >both secured aboard the Champion's plane and Sikorski and I can do >our thing. Said leaning will be under Lensman's Seal, further it will >not be recorded, spoken of even under torture, pried into or >otherwise held in anything less than strictest confidence. You can't >even get that promise from a modern day doctor or therapist. My >concern is that you're not in the best position to support each other >at the moment, especially with so many others around, and I've got >jets to spare.@ ^And if you need more than even you can handle, YOU can lean on ME.^ The Stardragon offers to Tink, on an ultra tight lens link, from IT's current hidey hole. The very little side band info that the 3rd stage lens woman can pick up, tells her that The Stardragon is busily putting together trap after trap ad infinitum, of such power and nature to maul even the most powerful of unwelcome Cosmic intruders. ANYTHING entering that particular space time continuum, that didn't originate there is going to get CREAMED but good, and will be lucky (very VERY lucky) to get back out alive. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 06:21:53 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012252 >On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 00:41:43 -0000 >Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012249 > >And the scan's done. To RedZia, she says, "I can give you something >for that shoulder to ease the pain but it needs proper treatment. You >may be able to continue, depending on whether it's going to distract >you or not. You're stretched pretty thin already and at least one of >you is in the Middle of Something." The Red Zia nods once - more solemnly than Steppenwolf has ever seen her before. "I'll take it. It is somewhat distracting, but I judge it not to be at a dangerous level as yet. I will warn you if it becomes so." ^Tink, I have rather a fundamental problem with Mechanicals - at least the ones who have not earned my trust to the degree that Nemo has. If possible, I would prefer treatment by someone I trust, rather than by a stranger. Particularly one that is utterly Mechanical. If this phobia of mine causes offense, I shall offer my apology, but since it is germane to the situation, it would be remiss of me not to inform you.^ >@That said,@ Tink sends, holding up her lensed wrist, @As field >medic, you are both ordered to lean on my lens until we can get you >both secured aboard the Champion's plane and Sikorski and I can do >our thing. Said leaning will be under Lensman's Seal, further it will >not be recorded, spoken of even under torture, pried into or >otherwise held in anything less than strictest confidence. You can't >even get that promise from a modern day doctor or therapist. My >concern is that you're not in the best position to support each other >at the moment, especially with so many others around, and I've got >jets to spare.@ RedZia raises an eyebrow. @Tink, I hadn't known you were a trained therapist before, but it is most evident now. I agree with your concern, and your authority to order such a solution as our field medic.@ She doesn't even _look_ at Eric, but she knows her own capitulation leaves the Hunter basically without a leg to stand on for refusing - as she intended. "The island isn't nose-diving." The heart-shaped eye-patch wearing Ziactrice observes. "Given IR's usual modus operandi, I doubt she is still here in person - or clone. However, I am not infallible. I'll leave the decision to fight through some more monsters or withdraw to the rest of you and just have a breather for a moment." She finds a place to sit down and lean against the wall a moment, closing her eyes. -- Zia of the Red "Damn, I would forget my aloe vera in my other supers-suit today..." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 19:24:55 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012254 >On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 06:21:53 -0800 (PST) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012252 >>On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 00:41:43 -0000 >>Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012249 >>> >>> "If IR is true to form, she'll be long gone, but if you want - " >>>Ultraviolet cuts off, as she, the Zia in Red, and even the oddly >>>dressed green one stiffen simultaneously. The unforgettable odor of >>>scorched flesh mixed with burning fabric hits Eric's senses, as the >>>deep burn the Blue Rose took from a ray gun instantly wounds all >>>the Chromatic Zia-splits. The damage is spead amongst all of them, >>>but severe enough despite the division of the force. Eric's eyes widen, most of his otherwise-nonpareil emotion control out the window. >>> "Ch-change of plan." The Just Violet rasps, her voice rough >>>against the pain. "Orchid, you and I open the way. Get me out of >>>range and I can heal this in light-form. Red, stay with 'em. Green >>>- you know where you're needed." Through the mask, her gaze meets >>>Eric's. "Don't do anything I wouldn't, eh?" She teases, though he >>>can see the concern in her eyes. The Green Zia lays her finger by >>>the side of her nose, grins once - and then she vanishes like the >>>Cheshire Cat - smile last. With an effort roughly equivalent to throwing Gamera-light here into orbit, Eric manages a brief smile back. "Keep it light, willya?" Orchid, suddenly very grave, is at the Just Violet's side instantly. "I am with you, friend." >>"That leaves you two," Tink says, meaning RedZia and Eric, >>"Sikorski's going to need to know both your conditions, and since >>I'm playing field medic and evac, my job's to check you both out and >>get you off the playing field if need be. Fair warning, claiming you >>are fine or you will manage will get you sent back for sure. If we >>can treat it and keep going, rest assured we will if that turns out >>to be the plan. Right now, sounds like at least one of you is of a >>mind to cut this short anyway since we've obtained the objective." Eric nods reluctantly. "I would not even pretend any such idiocy. Flight has clearly become our only option regardless." He glares at the infernal font that was, until a minute or so ago, the walrus-hydra. "There is just one thing I must do before we depart." >>And the scan's done. To RedZia, she says, "I can give you something >>for that shoulder to ease the pain but it needs proper treatment. >>You may be able to continue, depending on whether it's going to >>distract you or not. You're stretched pretty thin already and at >>least one of you is in the Middle of Something." > > The Red Zia nods once - more solemnly than Steppenwolf has ever >seen her before. "I'll take it. It is somewhat distracting, but I >judge it not to be at a dangerous level as yet. I will warn you if it >becomes so." Eric, relieved to be back down to one Zia again, is able to offer a @{line to lean on via Lens if necessary}@, though words rather fail him at the moment. >>"Hunter, those hands need major work and you're already Distracted. >>Going on after Infra-Red is not a good idea, but if you can keep it >>together and we aren't thrown anything that requires you to have >>full use of your hands, you could probably manage." "I'll find her another time," he replies evenly, "I just need to leave a calling card." With that, his left hand opens about a third. It is almost painful even to watch, as bones crack and fused knuckles liquefy briefly. Then the gun that was in his hand melts and flows out of his palm, rippling across the ground and the fiery elements reigniting. In moments, they have traced something out on the floor. It looks like a word of some sort. Those who can read Sanskrit recognize it almost instantly: "Yama," the First Ancestor of Hindu mythology and God of the Dead. > RedZia raises an eyebrow. @Tink, I hadn't known you were a trained >therapist before, but it is most evident now. I agree with your >concern, and your authority to order such a solution as our field >medic.@ She doesn't even _look_ at Eric, but she knows her own >capitulation leaves the Hunter basically without a leg to stand on >for refusing - as she intended. "Women," Eric says fatalistically. (But was that...a trace of humor in his voice? He _must_ need a therapist. 8^) "If everyone is quite finished," Seeker comments dryly, glancing at Eric out of the corner of one eye, "I believe we can get the deuce out of here, ey?" Jaguar rumbles equanimously deep in his throat. "As long as we are coming back for her another time." "Can we discuss this later, Santiago?" Seeker sighs. "Indeed," Steppenwolf agrees, as a keening/roaring sound unfamiliar to all present echoes horrifically from down the ravaged corridor. -- Champions, Hunter, and Steppenwolf You guys really know how to throw a party... =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Mon, 15 Nov 2004 21:33:56 -0500 "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00012258 [Ed. Note: This was originally posted to the First Draft list 18 Oct 2004, but mistakenly not posted in character until now.] Quite a few meters below, Thunder grabs Emeral Zia as she threatens to fall off his back. His outer aura goes blue and chill as it begins abosrbing the wasted heat energy of their impact in a blatant violation of the Second Law of Thermodynamics. "Aunt Zee, are you all--" His kinetic-energy senses detect a free-falling object dropping down his newly-created dropshaft, and he instinctively expands his aura to safe-impact levels just in time to catch the landing of a vision in scarlet. "...Aunt Zee?" For a moment, he looks back and forth between the two Chromae like a dog trying to decide which bone is real and which the reflection, then gives himself a shake as the rest of the party begins hitting his field (currently expanded to fill the bottom of the shaft). "Okay, Ah guess we're all here. Where to now?" A fresh rattle of .45 fire puntucates his inquiry. "Nevah mind -- just ride to the sound of the guns, Ah reckon." His aura *thrums* against the air, producing a resonable facsimile of what 80s TV watchers would recognize as the General Lee's horn from "The Dukes of Hazzard" to underscore his best Yosemite Sam yell: "CHAAAAAAARGE!" =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9V: Exit, Stage Rescue On Tue, 16 Nov 2004 14:05:22 -0500 SkyeFire Said As CAoL Message # 00012264 Aaaand, *trying* toget back into the swing of things.... >Roland X wrote on 11/14/2004, 10:31 PM: > > "Women," Eric says fatalistically. (But was that...a trace of >humor in his voice? He _must_ need a therapist. 8^) > "If everyone is quite finished," Seeker comments dryly, glancing >at Eric out of the corner of one eye, "I believe we can get the deuce >out of here, ey?" > Jaguar rumbles equanimously deep in his throat. "As long as we are >coming back for her another time." > "Can we discuss this later, Santiago?" Seeker sighs. > "Indeed," Steppenwolf agrees, as a keening/roaring sound >unfamiliar to all present echoes horrifically from down the ravaged >corridor. "Good plan, though now we've lost Roger," Tink says with just a trace of exasperation. BOOOOOOOM! Several of the Champions and assorted allies stagger about, coughing and blinking in the sudden dust cloud. From the epicenter of the explosion comes a familiar voice: "Dang it all, Ah was just tryin'a follow the sounds of the ruckus, but the echoes down here are slippier'n'a racoon in a briah patch, Ah swear!" "ROGER!" It's hard to tell exactly who's shouting, since there are so *many* voices in the chorus. A light shockwave clears the worst of the hanging dust, revealing Thunder standing in a brand-new hole in one side of the tunnel wall. "Well, *there* y'are! Tarnation, where y'all *been*? Takin' it easy, Ah bet, while Ah been bustin' mah way through all these bug-uglies back heah." He jerks a thumb back over his shoulder, where the end of a long, long trail of carnage, destruction, and massive collateral damage is now plainly visible. He props his hands on his hips and glares at his audience with an expression of good-natured exasperation. "Ah swear, Ah cain't take mah eyes off of y'all fer a second an' y'go gettin' lost on me!" He shakes his head before anyone can say anything. "Well, that's all water under the bridge now, so y'don't need to apologize none." He glances back up the corridor at where the "keening/roaring" sound is coming from. "So, Ah guess that's who we gotta beat up next, huh?" He cracks his knuckles in a deliberative fashion and starts up the corridor, making it a half-dozen steps before he pauses to look back over his shoulder. "Well? Y'all comin' or not? Wassamatter? I got cabbage in mah teeth or somethin'?" He runs his tongue over his teeth in a quick check, as his "comrades" stare at him.... OOC: is he nuts, or merely Without Fear? And do we really want to know? =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Tue, 16 Nov 2004 21:08:45 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012267 >On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 19:24:55 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012254 >>Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012252 >>>Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012249 >>>>Through the mask, [The Just Violet's] gaze meets Eric's. "Don't do >>>>anything I wouldn't, eh?" She teases, though he can see the >>>>concern in her eyes. The Green Zia lays her finger by the side of >>>>her nose, grins once - and then she vanishes like the Cheshire Cat >>>>- smile last. > > With an effort roughly equivalent to throwing Gamera-light here >into orbit, Eric manages a brief smile back. "Keep it light, willya?" "I knew you'd become a Regular at the Place sooner or later." Violet observes with a theatrical shudder. "I'll have to award that a fleeing the room accolade - sorry, I can't hold my nose as is traditional. The gesture is lost in the glare." > Orchid, suddenly very grave, is at the Just Violet's side >instantly. "I am with you, friend." "Thanks, Orchid. Unless you've better UV protection, better borrow my specs. Wouldn't want to accidentally blind one of my staunchest allies." Violet puts her hand to the not-there frame of her lenses, still floating in air. They maintain proper spacing and orientation as she pulls them off with a mimed gesture, then she offers the seemingly self-supporting (floating?) dark purple/smoked quartz lenses to Orchid. > Eric, relieved to be back down to one Zia again, is able to offer >a @{line to lean on via Lens if necessary} @, though words rather >fail him at the moment. @Appreciate the thought, love,@ RedZia returns with an easy warmth and affection the usual Zia seldom let show in public, or even while working via her Lens before this, @I'll only use it if I must - you've enough to deal with. And if you need to lean on mine, it is also available. To you.@ >> RedZia raises an eyebrow. @Tink, I hadn't known you were a >>trained therapist before, but it is most evident now. I agree with >>your concern, and your authority to order such a solution as our >>field medic.@ She doesn't even_look_ at Eric, but she knows her own >>capitulation leaves the Hunter basically without a leg to stand on >>for refusing - as she intended. > > "Women," Eric says fatalistically. (But was that...a trace of >humor in his voice? He _must_ need a therapist. 8^) > "If everyone is quite finished," Seeker comments dryly, glancing >at Eric out of the corner of one eye, "I believe we can get the deuce >out of here, ey?" "Actually, it's a Trump, not a deuce." RedZia fishes out a ... deck of cards and she begins to sort through them. > Jaguar rumbles equanimously deep in his throat. "As long as we are >coming back for her another time." > "Can we discuss this later, Santiago?" Seeker sighs. > "Indeed," Steppenwolf agrees, as a keening/roaring sound >unfamiliar to all present echoes horrifically from down the ravaged >corridor. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Thu, 18 Nov 2004 05:21:00 -0000 Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012272 >On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 06:21:53 -0800 (PST) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012252 >>On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 00:41:43 -0000 >>Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012249 >> >>And the scan's done. To RedZia, she says, "I can give you something >>for that shoulder to ease the pain but it needs proper treatment. >>You may be able to continue, depending on whether it's going to >>distract you or not. You're stretched pretty thin already and at >>least one of you is in the Middle of Something." > > The Red Zia nods once - more solemnly than Steppenwolf has ever >seen her before. "I'll take it. It is somewhat distracting, but I >judge it not to be at a dangerous level as yet. I will warn you if it >becomes so." > > ^Tink, I have rather a fundamental problem with Mechanicals - at >least the ones who have not earned my trust to the degree that Nemo >has. If possible, I would prefer treatment by someone I trust, rather >than by a stranger. Particularly one that is utterly Mechanical. If >this phobia of mine causes offense, I shall offer my apology, but >since it is germane to the situation, it would be remiss of me not to >inform you.^ Tink nods, slipping Zia a hip flask of water and a couple pills, while she applies a spray to the woman of Red's injury. "Water, ibuprofen, aerosol burn relief. Just enough to get you home." ^Will I suffice or do you have a specific doctor in mind?^ she asks privately. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Thu, 18 Nov 2004 05:28:28 -0000 Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012273 >On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 19:24:55 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012254 > > Eric nods reluctantly. "I would not even pretend any such idiocy. >Flight has clearly become our only option regardless." He glares at >the infernal font that was, until a minute or so ago, the >walrus-hydra. "There is just one thing I must do before we depart." Tink grins, "Alright then." > "Women," Eric says fatalistically. (But was that...a trace of >humor in his voice? He _must_ need a therapist. 8^) Tink just smiles. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Thu, 18 Nov 2004 06:56:19 -0000 Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012274 >On Sat, 13 Nov 2004 21:03:57 -0800 >Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012250 > >^And if you need more than even you can handle, YOU can lean on ME.^ >The Stardragon offers to Tink, on an ultra tight lens link, from IT's >current hidey hole. The very little side band info that the 3rd stage >lens woman can pick up, tells her that The Stardragon is busily >putting together trap after trap ad infinitum, of such power and >nature to maul even the most powerful of unwelcome Cosmic intruders. >ANYTHING entering that particular space time continuum, that didn't >originate there is going to get CREAMED but good, and will be lucky >(very VERY lucky) to get back out alive. Tink smiles and sends a private mental hug. ^Thank you, hon, that's always good to know.^ =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Thu, 18 Nov 2004 07:22:51 -0000 Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012275 >On Thu, 18 Nov 2004 05:28:28 -0000 >Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012273 >>On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 19:24:55 -0800 >>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012254 >> >> "Women," Eric says fatalistically. (But was that...a trace of >>humor in his voice? He _must_ need a therapist. 8^) > >Tink just smiles. And Tink opens a lens link to both of them to draw on at need, adding a fresh resolve to Eric's fight with his new inner vampire, and help keeping the seperate threads of Zia's chromatic selves from bleeding over dangerously into one another. Just where she picked up such tricks is anyone's guess, but the mental contact, while reserved so as not to overwhelm her empathic aunt, is one of a confident, independent, accepting, compassionate, joyful and mature woman who cares greatly for her Aunt Zia and those her aunt loves, as well as a genuine like for Eric and a like for and just a touch of sympathy/empathy with his sister, Rio. OOC: Maybe it's the young, vivacious girl saddled with an older, brooding and angsty relative. *grinning, ducking and running* =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Sat, 20 Nov 2004 10:37:05 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012276 >On Thu, 18 Nov 2004 05:21:00 -0000 >Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012272 >>Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012252 >> >> ^Tink, I have rather a fundamental problem with Mechanicals - at >>least the ones who have not earned my trust to the degree that Nemo >>has. If possible, I would prefer treatment by someone I trust, >>rather than by a stranger. Particularly one that is utterly >>Mechanical. If this phobia of mine causes offense, I shall offer my >>apology, but since it is germane to the situation, it would be >>remiss of me not to inform you.^ > >Tink nods, slipping Zia a hip flask of water and a couple pills, >while she applies a spray to the woman of Red's injury. "Water, >ibuprofen, aerosol burn relief. Just enough to get you home." "Ah, the wonders of pallatives." RedZia grins. "It feels better already." >^Will I suffice or do you have a specific doctor in mind?^ she asks >privately. ^You'll be fine, Tink.^ "Gentlemen - and Roger, " She pauses to listen to the howl/yowl that Roger Thunder wants to persue, then shakes her head. "I'm in no mood to deal with badger-baboons right now. The bites get infected too easily. Shall we be departing? I find the hospitality lacking." -- RedZia "Is Infra-red _still_ trying to make a monkey out of this group? You'd think even she could learn... but noooooooo." =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9v: Exit, Stage Rescue On Sun, 21 Nov 2004 03:09:25 -0000 Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012277 >On Sat, 20 Nov 2004 10:37:05 -0800 (PST) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012276 > > ^You'll be fine, Tink.^ Tink nods. ^@#Sikorsky? The following data packets, {} and {}, are scans from Ziactrice and Hunter, respectively. Note that I will be handling Zia's injuries due to automatonophobia. That will leave you to cope with the Hunter's injuries and any who haven't reported problems or who sustain them enroute. We're now falling back to base. Suggest starting with Hunter's hands and physical injuries before focusing on vampirism. He and the Champions may be able to assist on the latter problem, so this will provide consultation time. If not, we'll look at Higher Powers. EOF#@^ =========================== Subject: RE: AAE9V: Exit, Stage Rescue On Wed, 24 Nov 2004 15:20:17 -0500 "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00012279 In a message dated 11/20/2004 1:42:59 PM Eastern Standard Time, Samatha Cooper writes: > "Gentlemen - and Roger, " She pauses to listen to the howl/yowl >that Roger Thunder wants to persue, then shakes her head. "I'm in no >mood to deal with badger-baboons right now. The bites get infected >too easily. Shall we be departing? I find the hospitality lacking." Thunder looks rather disappointed. "What, we're leavin'? Awww...well, Ah guess Ah'd better close the barn door *before* the horse escapes." Thunder draws both Webleys in a simultaneous two-hand swoop that comes back around and *strops* the guns against his jhodpurs as he thumbs back both hammers to half-cock (detailed observers will note that the cavalry-officer lanyards on the guns are indeed cabled to his belt). The cylinders spin freely in opposite directions as Thunder listens carefully to the sound of the precision-machined bearing surfaces. With each gun poised by an ear and pointed toward the ceiling, he looks mildly tranced out for a moment... then thumbs back both hammers to full-cock in quick succession, stopping each cylinder on a specific chamber. He turns to face the approaching ugly sounds, and flashes a big ol' farmboy grin back over his shoulder at the rest of the party. "Y'all might wanna plug your ears, now." With that, he tosses his head to drop his goggles into place, peers down the passage... and lets fly one round from each gun in measured succession. He slaps both guns back into their holsters even as his blast field flares back into full life, and visibly braces for something.... The Nile Empire is a cosm of Weird Science as well as Pulpish Powers, and Thunder is a "native." As such, each cylinder of his revolvers is loaded with a different exotic cartridge. The first bullet fired down the corridor carries a special "stabilized" form of super-compressed pentavalent nitrogen in solid crystalline form, inside a jacket of tempered duranium designed to protect its volatile cargo from nearly any impact. The second bullet is a hot-loaded, hypervelocity HESH round, its hollow-pointed nose made of a softened duodec micro-charge, with an inertially-driven "match-head" detonator of slow-burning crystalline-metallic hyrdogen, ignited by the initial firing. Between the extreme customization of his guns, and his innate kinetic sense, Thunder is probably among the premier marksmen in his entire cosm. Several hundred meters down the passage, the chaser round catched up to the its leader. As the duodec charge "splats" and spreads out around the base of the pentavalent-nitrogen bullet, the match-head detonator is thrown forward through the narrow passage connecting the duodec nose to the detonator chamber at the base of the bullet. As the clump of crystalline hydrogen, its structure now partially destabilized by the portion of it that has burned away, impacts the back of the squashing duodec charge, it fragments sharply, providing a near-instantaneous increase of surface area to the combustion wavefront of several orders of magnitude. The tiny bit of hydrogen "flashes" dramatically, in a fashion reminiscent of a micro-scale fuel-air explosion. The detonating hydrogen generates sufficient force to breach the duodec's critial detonation threshold. The duodec charge, now spread around more than 1/3 of the rear of the leader bullet, detonates with enough force to crack the duranium casing maintaining the stability of the super-compressed pentavalent nitrogen -- the most powerful non-nuclear explosive ever created. The final explosion achieves very-low-yield nuclear levels (but without any of that pesky radiation). The shockwave rolls up the passage towards the Champions, and meets Thunder's precision-crafted countershock, which reflects most of it back down the passage again. What leaks through is still mildly deafening, however. The ground-transmitted shockwave, arriving first, is sufficient to make footing a dicey proposition for a few moments. As the echoes die down, Thunder pushes his goggles back up into his hair and turns to his vict-- er, *friends,* with a big ol' country-boy grin. "Well, that oughta keep the weasles outta the henhouse fer a while." There's a sudden roar of megatons of collapsing rock from behind him. "And that'll take 'em a while to dig out from under." He loosk supremely self-satisfied. "So, ya'll want I should lift us outta here?" OOC: I'll leave it up to Evil GM-kun as to whether Thunder just created a "run like heck before the island collapses on our heads" situation. Evil? Moi? I'm just following the example set for me.... =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9V: Exit, Stage Rescue On Thu, 25 Nov 2004 14:20:01 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012285 >On Tue, 16 Nov 2004 21:08:45 -0800 (PST) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012267 >>On Sun, 14 Nov 2004 19:24:55 -0800 >>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012254 >>>Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012252 >>>>Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012249 > >punishment, that's it. Right.> OOC: >>>>>Through the mask, [The Just Violet's] gaze meets Eric's. "Don't >>>>>do anything I wouldn't, eh?" She teases, though he can see the >>>>>concern in her eyes. The Green Zia lays her finger by the side of >>>>>her nose, grins once - and then she vanishes like the Cheshire >>>>>Cat - smile last. >> >> With an effort roughly equivalent to throwing Gamera-light here >>into orbit, Eric manages a brief smile back. "Keep it light, >>willya?" > > "I knew you'd become a Regular at the Place sooner or later." >Violet observes with a theatrical shudder. "I'll have to award that a >fleeing the room accolade - sorry, I can't hold my nose as is >traditional. The gesture is lost in the glare." Eric salutes her as jauntily as he can (it comes off rather stilted, but at least he makes the effort) as she alights away. >> Orchid, suddenly very grave, is at the Just Violet's side >>instantly. "I am with you, friend." > > "Thanks, Orchid. Unless you've better UV protection, better borrow >my specs. Wouldn't want to accidentally blind one of my staunchest >allies." Violet puts her hand to the not-there frame of her lenses, >still floating in air. They maintain proper spacing and orientation >as she pulls them off with a mimed gesture, then she offers the >seemingly self-supporting (floating?) dark purple/smoked quartz >lenses to Orchid. With a smile and a grateful nod, she plucks the glasses out of the air and re-orients them on her nose. Somehow, she manages to look cool and cute in them at the same time. "Neo, eat your heart out," she quips. >patients - and patient! Something truly HAS gone sideways about the >universe!> > >> Eric, relieved to be back down to one Zia again, is able to offer >>a @{line to lean on via Lens if necessary} @, though words rather >>fail him at the moment. > > @Appreciate the thought, love,@ RedZia returns with an easy warmth >and affection the usual Zia seldom let show in public, or even while >working via her Lens before this, @I'll only use it if I must - >you've enough to deal with. And if you need to lean on mine, it is >also available. To you.@ He sends @{gratitude & relief}@ wordlessly, the pulsing hunger within him under control for the time being. >> "If everyone is quite finished," Seeker comments dryly, glancing >>at Eric out of the corner of one eye, "I believe we can get the >>deuce out of here, ey?" > > "Actually, it's a Trump, not a deuce." RedZia fishes out a ... >deck of cards and she begins to sort through them. "Yer' a real card, y'know that, Red?" Seeker quips back. Then... >On Tue, 16 Nov 2004 14:05:22 -0500 >SkyeFire Said As CAoL Message # 00012264 >>Roland X wrote on 11/14/2004, 10:31 PM: >> >> "If everyone is quite finished," Seeker comments dryly, glancing >>at Eric out of the corner of one eye, "I believe we can get the >>deuce out of here, ey?" >> Jaguar rumbles equanimously deep in his throat. "As long as we >>are coming back for her another time." >> "Can we discuss this later, Santiago?" Seeker sighs. >> "Indeed," Steppenwolf agrees, as a keening/roaring sound >>unfamiliar to all present echoes horrifically from down the ravaged >>corridor. > > "Good plan, though now we've lost Roger," Tink says with just a >trace of exasperation. > BOOOOOOOM! > Several of the Champions and assorted allies stagger about, >coughing and blinking in the sudden dust cloud. Eric, patience all but evaporated, is crouched very low, left hand splayed on the ground, right hand filled with throwing spikes aimed at... > From the epicenter of the explosion comes a familiar voice: > "Dang it all, Ah was just tryin'a follow the sounds of the ruckus, >but the echoes down here are slippier'n'a racoon in a briah patch, Ah >swear!" > "ROGER!" It's hard to tell exactly who's shouting, since there are >so *many* voices in the chorus. > A light shockwave clears the worst of the hanging dust, revealing >Thunder standing in a brand-new hole in one side of the tunnel wall. >"Well, *there* y'are! Tarnation, where y'all *been*? Takin' it easy, >Ah bet, while Ah been bustin' mah way through all these bug-uglies >back heah." He jerks a thumb back over his shoulder, where the end of >a long, long trail of carnage, destruction, and massive collateral >damage is now plainly visible. Eric's expression briefly shows him considering Roger Thunder as a between-meal snack. This changes with lightning speed to self-disgust, a second pondering of the possibility, reluctant rejection, and then his usual stony mask. > He props his hands on his hips and glares at his audience with an >expression of good-natured exasperation. "Ah swear, Ah cain't take >mah eyes off of y'all fer a second an' y'go gettin' lost on me!" He >shakes his head before anyone can say anything. "Well, that's all >water under the bridge now, so y'don't need to apologize none." He >glances back up the corridor at where the "keening/roaring" sound is >coming from. "So, Ah guess that's who we gotta beat up next, huh?" He >cracks his knuckles in a deliberative fashion and starts up the >corridor, making it a half-dozen steps before he pauses to look back >over his shoulder. "Well? Y'all comin' or not? Wassamatter? I got >cabbage in mah teeth or somethin'?" He runs his tongue over his teeth >in a quick check, as his "comrades" stare at him.... Eric slaps the pulp cowboy mutant on the back of the head. "In case you had not noticed, your 'Aunt Z' is having a rough time of it, boy. Now unless you want to remain here yourself, to battle a creature capable of giving both she and I so much trouble, I suggest we leave." All this in a gravelly 'gargled with acid' voice that makes his normal tone sound downright friendly. =========================== Subject: AAE9V: Rescue, Exit Stage Boom-boom On Fri, 26 Nov 2004 14:29:48 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012290 > As the echoes die down, Thunder pushes his goggles back up into >his hair and turns to his vict-- er, *friends,* with a big ol' >country-boy grin. "Well, that oughta keep the weasles outta the >henhouse fer a while." > There's a sudden roar of megatons of collapsing rock from behind >him. "And that'll take 'em a while to dig out from under." He looks >supremely self-satisfied. "So, ya'll want I should lift us outta >here?" "Roger, dear?" RedZia says in a tone of Utter Exasperation. "If you weren't a distant cousin, I'd beat you soundly." Her jaw sets as her teeth tighten against the slowly growing pain her empathy is beginning to hear. Large reptiles have slow nervous systems. "I just had to bring you." She hands the Trump - (when did she have time to get one of the interior of the Champion's transport vehicle?) - to Eric, careful to avoid actually touching him. "I'm out with Eric. Roger, evac as many of the rest as you - aaaaaarrrrrghhh!" RedZia groans in unmistakable pain, her Lens suddenly glaring through a sleeve in violent red. Tink and Eric both feel her hit their links, drawing on what power their own Lenses can lend her to stay clear despite the pain she is feeling. " - can. Tink, treat me for empathic overload, but get me out of range of this wounded beastie, first." Outside, the peaceful ocean surface is broken, as a huge mass of terrain, tortoise shell, and fire belches skyward. The dust begins to blot out the tropical sun. The sea reddens as a ravaged flipper of immense size slowly stirs the water. Several tens of seconds later, a huge head breaks surface on the other side of the island. Beak-nosed jaws that could engulf Manhatten Island in a bite gape wide in silent agony. Long-slumbering instincts begin to come awake. Another flipper stirs, and the Island Turtle attempts to dive for safety. Then the full agony finally hit her. RedZia had braced herself on Lens and shielding as well as she was able, but the sheer size of the beast made the pain tremendous in force and scope. Being inside the very shell of the turtle did not help matters. RedZia screamed. This was not the restrained sound of someone still possessing wit and resistance. Her Lens could not protect her fully. Her scream was a sound of torment pushed beyond sentient thought. The pain was echoing from the brain stem, the remainder reptilian brain in mammals. The psychic force was great enough to cause correlating biophysical damage; blood seeped from the corners her eyes, her ears, and into her mouth from the very gums of her teeth. The floor moves again, pitching slowly but steadily. The sound of water comes faintly from the direction of Roger's recent explosion, followed by the smell of salt water and cool puff of breeze. -- RedZia We'll find out what happened to Ultra-violet when the turtle's agony hit her in our next action-filled episode. Will the Champions escape this deadly peril? Don't miss: Bellows from the Deeps, our next thrilling episode, Dear Readers! =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9V: Exit, Stage Rescue On Mon, 29 Nov 2004 15:23:54 -0500 "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00012295 I'm dreadfully out of sequence, here... Roland X wrote on 11/25/2004, 5:24 PM: >>"Well? Y'all comin' or not? Wassamatter? I got cabbage in mah teeth >>or somethin'?" He runs his tongue over his teeth in a quick check, >>as his "comrades" stare at him.... > > Eric slaps the pulp cowboy mutant on the back of the head. "In >case you had not noticed, your 'Aunt Z' is having a rough time of it, >boy. Now unless you want to remain here yourself, to battle a >creature capable of giving both she and I so much trouble, I suggest >we leave." All this in a gravelly 'gargled with acid' voice that >makes his normal tone sound downright friendly. Most of the blow gets soaked up by Thunder's residual kinetic field, and the rest... well, he has a *really* hard head. He doesn't even seem to notice the slap, instead blinking at Eric with lots of concern and not a trace of fear (It's *Eric,* after all). "Unc? You okay?" Thunder takes a close look at Eric for the first time. "You look downright dragged through a knothole." He starts to simmer self-righteously. "Now what the blazes that Red bi-- br-- *person* gone an' done to you? Ah'm gonna give her unholy whatfor, see if Ah don't!" OOC: Farmboys. What can Ah-- I mean, what can *I* say? =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9V: Rescue, Exit Stage Boom-boom On Tue, 30 Nov 2004 12:15:34 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012296 >On Fri, 26 Nov 2004 14:29:48 -0800 (PST) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012290 > >> There's a sudden roar of megatons of collapsing rock from behind >>him. "And that'll take 'em a while to dig out from under." He looks >>supremely self-satisfied. "So, ya'll want I should lift us outta >>here?" @[I am going to kill him,]@ Eric thinks/accidentally Lenses, only half jokingly. > "I just had to bring you." She hands the Trump - (when did she >have time to get one of the interior of the Champion's transport >vehicle?) - to Eric, careful to avoid actually touching him. > "I'm out with Eric. Roger, evac as many of the rest as you - >aaaaaarrrrrghhh!" RedZia groans in unmistakable pain, her Lens >suddenly glaring through a sleeve in violent red. Tink and Eric both >feel her hit their links, drawing on what power their own Lenses can >lend her to stay clear despite the pain she is feeling. And somehow, Eric's mind is there, his placid, implacable nature taking control of himself with an iron grip, allowing him to provide something for her to lean on. Tink, Zia and Seeker, however, can all tell that he really, _really_ wants to kill something. Seriously. (And it's not even Roger. ;^) > " - can. Tink, treat me for empathic overload, but get me out of >range of this wounded beastie, first." Eric burns more of the precious vitae, healing his body and clearing his mind as much as his condition allows. It burns him, but for the moment he allows Tink to attend to Zia -- he only trusts himself so far at this juncture. > RedZia screamed. This was not the restrained sound of someone >still possessing wit and resistance. Her Lens could not protect her >fully. Her scream was a sound of torment pushed beyond sentient >thought. The pain was echoing from the brain stem, the remainder >reptilian brain in mammals. > The psychic force was great enough to cause correlating >biophysical damage; blood seeped from the corners her eyes, her ears, >and into her mouth from the very gums of her teeth. "Okay, that's it," Eric snaps, and leaps over to RedZia. Gathering her in one arm, love and need squashing the twin hungers IR created with ruthless efficiency, he uses his free hand to pull out the Trump and stares at it with an intensity that could set a normal card on fire. The now-familiar polychromatic doorway opens in front of him, and he tumbles through it with expert acrobatics (though it's a bit clumsy for him). He lets the gate vanish behind him, and with his remaining power, weaves a powerful mind/spirit shield around them both in the hopes of blocking out the pain she is sharing. With all of his jets at work on other tasks, his normally unshakable reserve is completely gone. "Come on, Z," he says gently, stroking her hair with shaky fingers. With incredible care, he wipes away the blood from her eyes and ears. Meanwhile, Seeker, Jaguar and Steppenwolf are still in the belly of the...well, the shell of the turtle, at any rate. "Well, Santiago, this is another fine mess ya've gotten me in to," Seeker quips. "Oh no you don't, these are Defender's comrades," Jaguar rumbles in an almost friendly riposte. "Complain to him." "D's not here," Seeker replies simply. "If you two are finished sharpening your repartee," Steppenwolf said dryly, "perhaps we should be going." On cue, Orchid reappeared, still wearing her (literally) smoking violet shades. "Last call," she chuckled, "now departing for the Slingshot, Champions Island, Cucamonga, and points east." "We're on the other side 'a the world," Seeker noted, eyes still twinkling, "how d'you know if we're going east or weeeeEEEST!" His sudden change of tone was evoked by Orchid grabbing him and 'helping' him back to the Slingshot at supersonic speeds, a gateway opening behind her. Steppenwolf actually smiles cooly before he steps through. Jaguar turns to Tink. "Need a ride?" he asks, mostly serious as he gestures at the gateway with a sideways nod. -- Champions, Eric & Steppenwolf When one crisis is not enough ;^) =========================== Subject: AAE9V: Rescue, Exit Stage Slingshot On Mon, 6 Dec 2004 04:05:35 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012307 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012296 >The now-familiar polychromatic doorway opens in front of him, and he >tumbles through it with expert acrobatics (though it's a bit clumsy >for him). He lets the gate vanish behind him, and with his remaining >power, weaves a powerful mind/spirit shield around them both in the >hopes of blocking out the pain she is sharing. Simultaneously, another mind - already in linkage with his own, ensures that the shielding will not block the alpha-bands currently in side-real usage to project her Spectrumselves. Once that is completed, a brilliant purple light streaks away, as Ultraviolet moves to aid in the battle against Mobius. Infra-red will have to wait a little longer. > With all of his jets at work on other tasks, his normally >unshakable reserve is completely gone. "Come on, Z," he says gently, >stroking her hair with shaky fingers. With incredible care, he wipes >away the blood from her eyes and ears. "Come?" Redzia says, her tone a bit breathy in the just-released-from-major-pain manner, but still determined to crack wise. "Unicorn knows you're skilled, Lancer, but a little more foreplay'd help." She opens her eyes a slit, grins slightly, and then raises herself just enough to brush his lips. "Is this the part where I do the 'my hero' line?" She doesn't make any attempt to stand, however, and he can feel her muscles trembling as if even rising so slightly required great effort. -- RedZia Putting the passion back into rescuing the Dame in distress. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9V: Rescue, Exit Stage Slingshot On Wed, 08 Dec 2004 20:59:26 -0800 Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012309 >On Mon, 6 Dec 2004 04:05:35 -0800 (PST) >Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012307 > > "Come?" Redzia says, her tone a bit breathy in the >just-released-from-major-pain manner, but still determined to crack >wise. "Unicorn knows you're skilled, Lancer, but a little more >foreplay'd help." She opens her eyes a slit, grins slightly, and then >raises herself just enough to brush his lips. "Is this the part where >I do the 'my hero' line?" She doesn't make any attempt to stand, >however, and he can feel her muscles trembling as if even rising so >slightly required great effort. Eric laughs harshly, if softly. "Nice try. I'm the one who practically walked into Infra-Red's arms." He gently guides her back to lay down on the gurney, a sudden whiff of the scent on his fingers causing him to tremble slightly before regaining control. "This is the part where you rest, the Champions get our battered bodies out of harm's way, and I start calling in favors." He smiles faintly, just letting his new fangs show. "And I have a great many favors I can call in. Now rest," he finishes, almost whispering as he sits next to her, "@_my_ hero.@" [As for you, Spades...you are a dead woman.] His thoughts are on three primary tracks as the Champions pull out. His primary concern is getting back into the war; as great a threat as Infra-Red is, she can wait. Final battles were taking place in Middle-Europe and Mobius' empire, but three realms remained to defeat even _before_ facing this Gaunt Man, this monster of monsters, and his reality. Earth's greatest hunter of monsters could do incalculable good there, even in his current condition. (Perhaps _especially_ in his current condition, though that was not a perspective Eric was truly ready to embrace yet.) His vacation in the Nile was over -- and his attitude there had cost everyone dearly, imposed outlook or no, he felt. At the second level of concentration, though definitely at the top emotionally, is his concern for the rainbow Zia(s). She had already spread herself rather thin, her 'real' self (insofar as the term 'real' could apply to anything under the insane circumstances) is unconscious and effectively helpless, and at least two of her are seriously wounded/strained. He isn't even entirely sure that the Lady Leprechaun vanished willingly or to relieve the strain. Other than relieving Kanto, however, he saw nothing he could do about the matter other than care for RedZia in his usual obsessive manner. He pushed the blood-hunger aside with a savage force that surprised even him. Finally, for all that she is no longer an immediate threat, Infra-Red has become his primary post-war target. Already his mind has begun taking her legendary defenses into account. She would be a challenge unlike any he'd faced since Ventrue, the Forsaken Lion. Of course, he _did_ slay the Lion. And this time, he would have even more help. The Forbidden City Chantry, the Sept of the Sun and Moon, UNTIL, Pride Nimrod, the entire Euthanatos Tradition...those were only the most prominent of the debts he intended to ask repayment on, that not even counting those who would gladly join him in the hunt, marker or no. And since there was every chance that IR would come after them again, it would be best to be prepared. No monster ever caught the Hunter off-guard twice. _Ever._ OOC: This wraps up everything I feel a need to do before we get back to Champions Island, so folx should feel free to do whatever they're planning to do with Turtle Island & co. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE9V: Rescue, Exit Stage Slingshot On Sun, 12 Dec 2004 20:36:35 -0000 Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012322 >On Wed, 08 Dec 2004 20:59:26 -0800 >Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012309 > > Eric laughs harshly, if softly. "Nice try. I'm the one who >practically walked into Infra-Red's arms." He gently guides her back >to lay down on the gurney, a sudden whiff of the scent on his fingers >causing him to tremble slightly before regaining control. "This is >the part where you rest, the Champions get our battered bodies out of >harm's way, and I start calling in favors." He smiles faintly, just >letting his new fangs show. "And I have a great many favors I can >call in. Now rest," he finishes, almost whispering as he sits next to >her, "@_my_ hero.@" Tink leans over RedZia and administera a hypospray "for the empathic shock," then busies herself tending to anything else that needs tending, including cleaning off the blood with a damp cloth. She waves Sikorsky off with a @#^We'll discuss Hunter's condition later^#@ adding quietly to Eric "When you're ready, let us know." In the meantime, she returns her attention to patching up the holoturtle that she'd left hovering before one of the jet's seats. Said creature seems to be well on the way to recovery, if the wireframe's little red areas that are turning green like the rest of it are any indication. (OOC: That's my end wrapped up.) -- Tink "It followed me home, Grumpa, can I keep it?" =========================== Subject: AAE9V: Flight of the Younger Pheonix On Sun, 2 Jan 2005 15:51:15 -0800 (PST) Ziactrice Said As CAoL Message # 00012342 Despite Eric's urging for her to rest, RedZia TKs a pillow behind her, forcing her mind to remain alert. After all, if she sleeps, her true self will awaken. While her real self is more powerful, there is only one of her. At the moment, there are simply too many loose ends to wrap up to allow such a happenstance. "Ask Roger Thunder to come talk to me, please? I need someone to keep me awake - and he's the best I know at that in several Shadows-radii." RedZia's gaze lingers on Eric's eyes a long, warm moment - but she represses the urge to ask for a kiss. Her passion is deep, but her care for this particular man deeper still. It would not be kind to torment him until he can deal with the foul manipulations Infra-red foisted upon him. The ride back isn't long, but she speaks quietly with Roger during it. From the tone, it seems clear she is patching things up with him, albeit with some effort on both their parts. Her look of relief is easily read, however, as Champion's Island comes into view once again. "I wonder how much longer I can maintain this." She mutters aloud, if softly. =========================== Subject: AAE 9v: Roger Thunder gets his butt kicked (in a good way) On Sun, 06 Feb 2005 02:57:36 -0800 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012356 Roger Thunder has returned to his "wingman" position alongside the Champion's Slingshot when a see-through image of Harlock pops up ahead of him and slightly to one side, pacing him. The image studies RT silently for a minute, then frowns. "Roger, would you mind pulling your head out of your ass long enough for us to talk? I don't know what you think you just did, but what you're doing is worse, both for yourself and for your teammates." The Bard snorts with magnificent panache. "So? You screwed up. Everybody screws up, son. It's what you do about it that counts. Specifically:" he holds up one finger, "did you learn from your mistake, and..." he holds up a second finger, "did you fix your mistake, or at least apologize to the parties involved?" Harlock shakes his head ruefully. "Perhaps more to the point, though, is talking about this pity party you're throwing for yourself. Do you think other people aren't going to notice your withdrawal? Hells, I picked up on it from body language alone! How do you think your _mother_ is going to react to your withdrawing from all human contact? As if that weren't bad enough, last I checked, _you_ were human. Humans need contact, kiddo. By choosing not to touch, you are denying the opportunity to be touched, and there's only so long you can do that without going nuts." The Bard suddenly grins roguishly. "Of course, if you want me to be traditional in my delivery... A buzzard took the monkey for a ride in the air The monkey thought that everything was on the square The buzzard tried to throw the monkey off his back But the monkey grabbed his neck and said-- Now listen, Jack Straighten up and fly right Straighten up and fly right Straighten up and fly right Cool down, papa, don't you blow your top. Ain't no use in divin' What's the use in jivin' Straighten up and fly right Cool down, papa, don't you blow your top. The buzzard told the monkey "You're chokin' me Release your hold and I'll set you free The monkey looked the buzzard right dead in the eye and said Your story's touching but it sounds like a lie Straighten up and fly right Straighten up and do right Straighten up and fly right Cool down, papa, don't you blow your top. (instrumental interlude...which is really *weird*, considering there isn't an instrument in sight) Straighten up and fly right Straighten up and do right Straighten up and fly right Cool down, papa, don't you blow your top.*" --Harlock, Bard Extraordinaire-- mka Rick Bagnall *"Straighten Up and Fly Right" is by Nat King Cole and Irving Mills and is used without permission. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9v: Roger Thunder gets his butt kicked (in a good way) On Tue, 15 Feb 2005 13:23:57 -0500 "David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00012382 (Running valiantly miles behind the pack, I... AM... CATCH-UP MAN!!!!) >On Sun, 06 Feb 2005 02:57:36 -0800 >Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012356 > >Roger Thunder has returned to his "wingman" position alongside the >Champion's Slingshot when a see-through image of Harlock pops up >ahead of him and slightly to one side, pacing him. The image studies >RT silently for a minute, then frowns. "Roger, would you mind pulling >your head out of your ass long enough for us to talk? I don't know >what you think you just did, but what you're doing is worse, both for >yourself and for your teammates." Thunder shrugs. "Ah made a mistake. Ah got people hurt. So Ah can't make any more mistakes. That's all." (Thunder's angst is proving to provide very little traction for people to work on it. (:) ) >The Bard snorts with magnificent panache. "So? You screwed up. >Everybody screws up, son. It's what you do about it that counts. >Specifically:" he holds up one finger, "did you learn from your >mistake, and..." he holds up a second finger, "did you fix your >mistake, or at least apologize to the parties involved?" Thunder looks artfully puzzled. "Ain't that what Ah just said? Ah can't let mahself make that mistake again, so Ah have to make sure it can't happen." He looks away. "And, yeah -- Aunt Zee was even nice to me about it. Not that Ah deserve it." >Harlock shakes his head ruefully. "Perhaps more to the point, though, >is talking about this pity party you're throwing for yourself. Do you >think other people aren't going to notice your withdrawal? Hells, I >picked up on it from body language alone! How do you think your >_mother_ is going to react to your withdrawing from all human >contact? As if that weren't bad enough, last I checked, _you_ were >human. Humans need contact, kiddo. By choosing not to touch, you are >denying the opportunity to be touched, and there's only so long you >can do that without going nuts." That finally manages to get a bit of reaction. "Ah'm not 'withdrawin'', Ah'm just... keepin' everyone out of the line o'fire." Even Thunder seems to realize that this is at least a teeny bit lame. >The Bard suddenly grins roguishly. "Of course, if you want me to be >traditional in my delivery... "Uh oh." Thunder begins thinking desperately of a way to insert his earplugs without being obvious. >(instrumental interlude...which is really *weird*, considering there >isn't an instrument in sight) For a good ol' boy from south of the Mason-Dixon line, Thunder has a surprising revulsion against banjos. But his instilled manners keep him from cringing *too* obviously. >Straighten up and fly right >Straighten up and do right >Straighten up and fly right >Cool down, papa, don't you blow your top.*" Thunder slumps in relief as the ditty trails off, then notices Harlock's weather eye upon him and begins a minute study of the wavetops miles below. "Flyin' right ain't ever been a problem," he mutters. "Doin' right, now... Ah thought Ah was. And Ah was dead, dead wrong." He finally looks at Harlock's screen presence again. "So Ah can't trust what Ah think is right no more, now can Ah?" =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9v: Roger Thunder gets his butt kicked (in a good way) On Tue, 15 Feb 2005 17:33:30 -0800 Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012384 >On Tue, 15 Feb 2005 13:23:57 -0500 >"David McMillan" Said As CAoL Message # 00012382 > > (Running valiantly miles behind the pack, I... AM... CATCH-UP >MAN!!!!) So does that make Roland mustered man? ;P > Thunder looks artfully puzzled. "Ain't that what Ah just said? Ah >can't let mahself make that mistake again, so Ah have to make sure it >can't happen." He looks away. "And, yeah -- Aunt Zee was even nice to >me about it. Not that Ah deserve it." Harlock gives RT a "you're missing the point" glare, but then... > That finally manages to get a bit of reaction. "Ah'm not >'withdrawin'', Ah'm just... keepin' everyone out of the line o'fire." >Even Thunder seems to realize that this is at least a teeny bit lame. "Pfft. Just because you don't think you deserve the love and support of your parents, doesn't mean they'll agree. And that's the real issue here, isn't it? You're holding yourself up to impossible standards, trying to impress your parents. Trying to prove yourself worthy of the love they give you so freely." Harlock shakes his head. "You're not perfect, son. Nobody expects you to be, least of all your parents. And it's _because_ they love you that they don't expect you to be perfect. They're just as prone to making mistakes as you are, or didn't you see your dad going ballistic against Suli a little while ago? Granted that turned out well in the end, but what do you think would've happened if the rest of us hadn't been there?" "Come to think of it," the Bard muses, "I don't recall Roland ever apologizing to Suli for his behavior. I'll have to give him a little poke about that..." >>(instrumental interlude...which is really *weird*, considering there >>isn't an instrument in sight) > > For a good ol' boy from south of the Mason-Dixon line, Thunder has >a surprising revulsion against banjos. But his instilled manners keep >him from cringing *too* obviously. (OOC: Banjos? Aroo? With Nat King Cole singing, I would expect a piano part. Of course, with Harlock singing, who _knows_ what sort of instruments he might pull in...lute, harpsichord, and crumhorn, belike?) > Thunder slumps in relief as the ditty trails off, then notices >Harlock's weather eye upon him and begins a minute study of the >wavetops miles below. > "Flyin' right ain't ever been a problem," he mutters. "Doin' >right, now... Ah thought Ah was. And Ah was dead, dead wrong." He >finally looks at Harlock's screen presence again. "So Ah can't trust >what Ah think is right no more, now can Ah?" "Balderdash! If you _didn't_ feel rotten right now, then I would agree with that statement. After all, something got hurt when you didn't mean to. Anybody with a claim to a conscience would be feeling rotten. Since you _are_ feeling rotten, you _do_ have a conscience and you _can_ tell right from wrong. Quit trying to be perfect, Rog. You'll only drive yourself crazy trying." Harlock grins and his eyes twinkle a bit. "Crazier, that is." The Bard winks out. =========================== Subject: Re: AAE 9v: Roger Thunder gets his butt kicked (in a good way) On Fri, 18 Feb 2005 11:22:14 -0800 Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012391 >Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012384 > > "Crazier, that is." The Bard winks out. ^"Roger, it is time for you to start THINKING. Harlock is correct. You are not perfect. Stars and Universes, even The Stardragon is not perfect. -I- am not perfect. NOBODY, that is not ready to ascend, is perfect. We ALL make mistakes. You acted and, by mistake, caused injury to two entities. Given the information you had at the time, you might, JUST, have been able to predict the injury to the turtle. You could NOT have predicted the injury to Zia. Without a GREAT deal of augmentation of your mental abilities, you will NEVER be able to predict the untimate outcome of any one particular action. ANY action you take could lead to another entity being hurt. Will you stop acting at ALL, just to prevent such harm? I tell you, there is ONLY one way to do that, and that way will cause harm also. Do not fear to act, but TRY to think things through as best you can. -IF- you make a mistake LEARN from it, and if you can, fix the damage. If you can't fix the damage, ask for help from those around you to fix it. You are a member in good standing of one of the most, if not THE most, powerful organizations in the multiverse. An organization with unheard of resources. That organization and its resources stand ready to help ANY member to rectify a mistake. To give you some perspective: your mistake injured two entities, that you did not intend damage to. The most recent mistake that Aurora made destroyed an entire GALAXY. It took her YEARS of your time, even with her supporters andHydra and I helping her, to rectify that mistake. You made one mistake in choosing your actions, on that mission. ALL the other actions, you chose to perform, were correct. Considering the number of actions you were called upon to take, one mistake is a fairly LOW percentage. THINK child, do you REALLY believe that Roland would trust you on ANY mission if he didn't believe your judgement could be trusted? If he felt you were a danger to those around you, don't you realize that he would relieve you of your powers? If you were a danger to the defense of this world don't you realize -I- would HAVE to act to stop you? This world is the home of Roland and Morgan. It is IMPORTANT to The Stardragon. If one or another of these 'High Lords' were to succeed in over running this world,The Stardragon would go berzerk with rage. This is something I am sworn to prevent if I can, both as a member of the Dragon Guard and as leader of The Compact of the Unaligned. Roger I tell you now, this 'pity party', as Harlock called it, does MORE to endanger the defense of this world than any other action you have taken or are likely TO take."^ Oracle tells Roger Thunder. ===========================