[quote=@Tatterdemalion]POTENTIAL 0

“[i]waugh[/i] Jesus Mary and Joseph,” Sara says, clutching her chest. “Bode, Jesus, don’t... give a girl some warning before you sneak up on her!” She reflexively switches the vid off as she turns to look at him.

Part of her wants to grin. The Creator. Okay. Victor made Bode— [i]Bound Eagle[/i]— which rings a bell, like it’s a story or something.

“Sure. Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself, though? I’ve known Victor for ages, but you’ve known him all your life, right?”

When she’d imagined Bode before, he was, like, an accountant. Early receding hairline, thin glasses, a bland puce suit. This was a whole lot different, but in its own way, it made a whole lot of sense. And now that she had the chance?

She wanted to know [i]everything.[/i] Or at least close enough to be able to nod and say, “yeah, I know Bode, we’re super chill.”[/quote]

"The Creator programmed me to ensure the freedom of information, especially targeting the corporation known as Disflix. To this end I carry with me a data crystal with the entire Disflix catalogue that I continuously copy into information technology nodes I come into contact with."

There's an urban legend about programmers called in to debug refrigerators and locate billions of dollars of Disflix films crammed in alongside their operating systems. What do you know?

"I spend the majority of my time invisible in order to deflect pursuit from the Mousecatcher teams who continuously attempt to hunt me down. Fortunately I am not alone in my mission. I am assisted by Prometheus, who currently maintains the bulk of my processing power for various administrative and logistical tasks. He ensures that I am adequately armed and supplied for my mission and provides me with access to new Disflix productions. Additionally I perform superhero functions when the opportunity arises. However, sometimes Prometheus falls short of his moral standards, at which point it is my duty to bring him back into alignment. The system is working perfectly. The creator is very wise."

[quote=@Phoe]And she cries. It's the quiet, sniffly sort of sobbing that begs not to be caught, even though she hasn't bothered to find a safe space for herself. Feelings bubble over on top of feelings that wash over still more [i]feelings[/i] and it's just and it's just a-a-a-a-a-nd i-i-it'ssss j-ju-just...

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Hic. Thump. Thump. Thump. Snnrrrf.

She's [i]so[/i] tired. She's [i]so[/i] hungry. But she doesn't move, except to occasionally wipe her eyes or her nose on her criminal-red sleeve. 

...Some soldier. Can't even order a pizza.[/quote]

There are two cakes next to you.

One is a beautiful, elaborate, layered caramel and chocolate masterpiece that came from the classiest patisserie in the area that does delivery. The other... well, it's similar, but the heart-skill balance has slid [i]allllll [/i]the way over in favour of 'heart'. The top layer of cream is uneven in a way that tells the story of 'attempted to write something in cream, fouled it up, and subsequently tried to even everything out'.

"Mm. Thank you cakes." said Sabrem from five meters away. Her distance is careful, deliberate, easy to vanish from if she gets the wrong kind of look. "You've saved me twice now."

She's not handing you the cakes. She's not asking you to make a decision about accepting them. They're just... there. Near you. If you want them.

[quote=@Balmas]"I! What! You!" Victor sputters like a fuse about to reach a powderkeg. Then he's upright, bites the edge of the can, and drains it in one fell swoop. "Look here, you jumped-up wannabe, Prometheus is [i]my[/i] creation, he's [i]my[/i] problem, and if you think you're going to leave me here while you rush off and save the--holy fuck, you [i]drink[/i] that?"

Coughing up a fit, he drops the can and sags against Locker. "Fuck me, it tastes like tonguing a battery's ass."

And now he's coughing for an entirely different reason. Like, you wouldn't think it to look at the guy--after all, he spends most of his days dressed in what amounts to sweatpants and a pajama top--but underneath all the fluff is what he's realizing are incredibly firm abs.

"Um. Er. Ahem. To answer your question, fuck you. Yes, I'm coming with, and if you think you're running off without me, you'd best be prepared for me to stage a daring escape, hack the navigation console, and send the Gears foundation screaming into AEGIS headquarters."

He pauses, and leans further into Locker. (Holy crap, you could bounce a casino's wortha quarters off them.) "Which, of course, would be an objectively terrible plan, and cause hundreds of thousands of dollars in insurance premiums alone. I'd really hate to do that to my new company. Which is why I'm coming with now."[/quote]

"No, you're staying here," said Locker, taking another sip of his battery acid. "We need to reprogram Prometheus so that he's [i]not [/i]an amoral capitalist monster. You clearly can't think your way out of that problem so you're not our guy. Must be something in your brain structure, Prometheus' heel turn was exactly the same as yours right now. Anyway, we're going to let the Professor take a shot at it."

[quote=@eldest]"Do my best" she mutters absently, mind on other things. She's staring right at Turbo Knight 2, makes eye contact, and then when she blinks (Ferra is a robot. She does not blink first.) looks away, up at the sky, and smile slightly. The stars and satellites above are gorgeous, and she can see them quite well, but that's not what she's after. She focuses, and they drop away, duplicating and forking away from her like staring into an infinity mirror, warping ever so slightly in every kaleidoscope shift of possibility until she's looking at the souls of the worthy, and the points of pyros in the aether, and the majesty of frozen tears lighting the earth with the goddess's love. And in there, she looks for what the rocket's waiting on.
[/quote]

There's a music here. It's twisted and off rhythm and far, far too rapid - but everything is a part of it. Turbo Knight's influence seeps into everything here. It all beats in time with her finger drumming against the safety rail - the Shogun's heartbeat, the satellites above, the ticking of celestial mechanics, the Gears Foundation and all inside that closes in on her. Data flows in monumental channels through these walls, tying her to the world around, pouring through the crown sculpted into her helmet like the words of the gods into the head of an ancient king. She is the avatar of this whole world. All flows to her, and she flows to it - as above, so below. Everything here is her design and every decision plays into her hands.

But there is something that you can see in the distance that is not a matter of numbers. A red shadow looms above everything. When it falls, so too will the music.