LeavesI could’ve sworn she was already present?
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Pierce the Heavens with your spoon!
STATUS: Starting new YouTube show, Hell Yeah Gaming! Lots of work to do still, but getting me to 100 subs for a custom URL would be of tremendous help! youtube.com/user/DarthGlamd… 7 yrs ago
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Starting new YouTube show, Hell Yeah Gaming! Lots of work to do still, but getting me to 100 subs for a custom URL would be of tremendous help! youtube.com/user/DarthGlamd…
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Interlude 4: Purge
Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink. Repetitions of the bench press went up, then down, then up again with very little delay between the motions. Rapid breathing accompanied the movement. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Speaking of Exhale, a knock came at the door of the gym, which currently housed but one man hard at work. The mafia leader known to the public as “Purge” lifted the weight up one last time, then set it to rest in place. He sat up, wiping the sweat from his brow using a nearby moist towelette with disinfectant.
”Enter,” he said rather plainly, grabbing his nearby water bottle and chugging down the precious liquid.
The door opened with a slow, meek push, revealing another parahuman, one of only two people in the entire organization to have seen Purge without his mask on: Exhale. The gas based villain slowly approached, taking note of the weights. “995 pounds?” he asked, clearly impressed. “If you’re not careful, you’ll be breaking a world record soon.”
”I have no interest in advertising myself,” Purge responded. ”It is merely to maintain as healthy a body as I can.”
“Of course, of course,” Exhale nodded, wringing his hands together. “But I did not invite myself to your recreation room in order to commit to small talk.”
”I imagine you did not.” Purge stood up and began to clean his gear with a fresh wet wipe, disinfecting the entire rig. ”What is your report?”
“Expansion is going smoothly. Better than expected, even. A number of properties were simply abandoned by the Community members stationed there as soon as I showed my pretty face.” Exhale sounded proud of himself.
”Wise course of action. Then have we completely absorbed the district?” He had moved on to sterilizing the barbell itself, and wiping down the weights even though they were never touched at any point.
“There is but one hold out property, admittedly. I’m certain that I could have cleared the whole place in no time, however they requested a parlay with you, and your instructions were very clear on that matter…”
”Very well then,” Purge interjected, standing up straight and approaching the adjoining shower connected to his gym. ”I will depart immediately after I have made myself presentable. Be at the ready to accompany me in case this is a ploy, and let Benito know as well.”
“Shouldn’t he stay here to manage business affairs in your absence?” Exhale tilted his head slightly. He did not like sharing the company of Benito. “And what if we’re attacked while we’re out? His new powers would be instrumental in defending our assets.”
Purged waved off Exhale’s concerns, turning on the hot water of his shower and dropping his workout pants, showing no shame. “The likelihood is low, whereas if we show up to parlay in force, it will further discourage foul play. Apart from that, I trust my men to defend our base. They would not be in my organization otherwise.”
Exhale frowned, feeling defeated but knowing not to argue the point any further. “Understood. I’ll let him know and we’ll… Get the car ready.”
”Thank you, Linas.”
A black Sedan rolled up to the curb of a rather unassuming laundromat in one of the more seedy parts of town in the early morning. Though its posted hours of operation stated that it was supposed to open at 6:00 a.m., the building remained locked with all the lights out. A few figures could be seen inside, but remained motionless. Inside the car were three men, each dressed quite well, and each wearing a mask.
Exhale, of course, wore his standard lab coat and gas mask. It was entirely superficial, but it kept up the act that he was a tinker who made gases, rather than a blaster who made gases from his mouth. Purge sat in the back seat, his black suit and white featureless porcelain mask as normal. Already he was applying a healthy dose of disinfectant to the inside door handle. The third man, the one at the wheel, wore a mask that held a deep night time sky blue on the left side, which gradually faded toward the right until there was only white.
”Exhale, Vanish, let us parlay.” The mafia boss opened his door and got out, followed closely by the other two parahumans.
Exhale reached for the door handle first, but found that it was locked. Squinting his eyes, he saw the people inside but they did not move to let the trio in. With a grumble he knocked, but they still did not move.
”Do not waste your energy, Exhale. If our hosts will not be courteous to us, then we shall let ourselves in. Vanish, if you will please.”
”Consider it done, boss.” The newly named Vanish stepped forward, placing his hand on the door, which completely, well, vanished from sight. With a small flourish he gave a bow, allowing Purge and Exhale to enter first. As soon as he crossed the threshold himself, the door snapped back into place as though it had never been missing to begin with.
“Alright, what’s the big idea not answering when we came, eh?” Exhale angrily asked, taking a threatening step forward.
”Manners,” Vanish chided, causing Exhale to break his stride and slump in frustration. ”You do not speak for the boss.”
Purge casually strolled forward, adjusting his tie. Four individuals stood in the back, shrouded in darkness, still refusing to budge even an inch. How ill mannered these Community folk were. ”I have come as requested for your parlay. We may now begin negotiations. You will find that, so long as matters remain civil, I am a fair and reasonable man to deal with.”
Still no answer. Still no movement. Something wasn’t right here. ”Exhale. Vanish. Prepare yourselves.” Purge placed a hand in his pocket, drawing out a small rock, and casually tossed it to the nearest of the men. The rock bounced off the man’s chest, and he rocked back and forth as though on a pole or a pendulum.
”Mannequins?” Vanish asked, cautiously approaching until he was close enough to confirm his theory.
“Take cover!” Exhale called out. Everyone dove down behind the service counter just as several rounds of automatic fire ripped through the glass walls, signalling assault rifles that had to number at least four.
Purge felt his hair stand on end, he was getting antsy. On the floor… They made him get on the floor! Do you know how many different strains of bacteria are on the floor?! Microbes, pathogens, viruses, insects, threats beyond counting, the enemy converged on every side! This was unacceptable. The pounding of bullets hitting wood, metal, and drywall was as a minor humming compared to the pulsing adrenaline screaming for Purge to escape the germs.
”Exhale.” One word, one name, but it wasn’t an addressment. It was a command, one which Exhale picked up on instantly. Still huddled on the floor, he pulled out a small canister and tossed it over their cover.
“Scatter!” Yelled one of the assailants, the gunfire pausing. A large cloud of dense black smoke quickly spread out from the broken canister and Purge stood up, unable to stay down any longer.
A large wall of black amorphous smoke stood before him, impeding all vision. It was only normal smoke, albeit it highly condensed, and thus not terribly dangerous unless inhaled in large amounts. Of course, the shooters didn’t know that. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for the hardest damn decision he’d have to make that day. Purged willingly walked into the cloud of smoke.
Exhale turned back to Vanish. “Looks like we’re taking all the fun, unless you want black lung disease.” With that, he rushed into the black cloud, readying another canister.
”Please.” The new parahuman followed closely behind, hands outstretched. His hands carved out a safe path for his face, making a tunnel not unlike a vacuum where the smoke simply refused to fill, only to reappear behind him. All three emerged on the other side.
Four armed men, and a fifth nearby apparently calling the shots, had backed up a decent way. As soon as Purged stepped out of the smoke, the enemy leader laughed at him. “You’ve got a death wish just walking out in the open like that! From what I hear you’re faking the cape identity! Fire men!”
Bullets rang out once more, and the sound of metal echoing off metal filled the streets. “What the?!” Purge chuckled in response to the gunman’s surprise. True, it wasn’t every day you saw someone using a whole washing machine as a shield, yet here he was advancing forward with the huge appliance in tow blocking 95% of his body.
“Don’t underestimate the boss,” Exhale spoke with a creepy reverb through his gas mask, canister in hand.
”He doesn’t need to waste his power on the likes of you.” Vanish broke through the smoke barrier, prompting the attackers to train their guns on him and Exhale. If they couldn’t shoot Purge, they would shoot who they could.
The gas master opened another canister before the triggers were pulled, releasing a large condensed green gas, concealing his exact positioning. The bullets that rained down upon Vanish simply disappeared just before impact, only to continue their trajectory once he passed through the space the bullets occupied.
“Gah!” came the cry of pain from the green smoke. Exhale was hit. It didn’t matter too much. The gunmen had chewed through all their ammunition, and Purge was close enough to take advantage.
The Mafia boss rushed in with alarming speed. Before the men knew what to do, he was already upon them. The closest was disarmed in an instant and clubbed with the rifle, knocked unconscious with one blow. The second tried to back up as he fumbled with the magazine, but was simply unable to fight back as a powerful fist struck him in the solar plexus, down for the count.
The third had only just gotten his new magazine loaded and looked up to see a white porcelain face up close and personal in a devastating headbutt. Three for three one hit knock outs, but one thug remained and he already had his rifle trained on Purge.
“Don’t move, or you die where you stand!” He stated firmly. After seeing what his enemy was capable of, he didn’t want to take any chances. Before he could pull the trigger, the man suddenly dropped down into a big hole that wasn’t there before! Vanish sat nearby, hand on the ground.
”Do hurry yourself, Exhale, and sedate the poor man. I cannot reverse my power while he’s still armed inside this hole.”
Exhale limped forward, clutching his left shoulder in pain. Blood seeped outward from the wound, staining his white lab coat. He breathed out a gas which sterilized the injury, then applied a lighter to cauterize it, wincing in pain.
”Sometime today, please.”
“Fuck off, I’m coming.”
Purge opted to ignore the bickering of his two lieutenants in favor of focusing on the fifth and final man. A white fellow with short blond hair and reaching for his handgun, a simple 9mm glock. He trembled, clearly terrified.
“Don’t move, I’ll shoot!”
Oh Peter. Peter Peter Peter.” Purge advanced unflinchingly, shaking his head and pulling off his left glove. ”I am so disappointed. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you? You may have been one of the street men, but you are still part of my family. That’s what the organization is, you know. A family. Why?”
“You don’t know anything about family!” Peter spat back. “Father wants you all dead. He owns this city and you’ve all been fucking with him. He says, he says this is discipline!”
Peter waved the gun threateningly. Purge just grabbed it gently by the barrel and guided it to his own forehead.
“Are you stupid or something?! I’ll shoot, I’m serious!”
“I know you will, Peter. Just like I trained you to. Go ahead. Prove to me which family you truly hold dear.” The mafia leader’s voice did not waver once. There was no nervous tick, no insecurity, no fear, not even a hint of anger. He spoke as though it were another business exchange.
Click. “Huh?” Peter pulled the trigger, the mechanism worked as intended, yet the bullet did not fire.
”What a pity.” Purge snatched the gun from Peter’s hands and popped open the chamber, claiming the bullet and tossing the rest of the gun aside. He held the bullet up for Peter to see.
”I can see you are confused, so please humor me with your attention for but a minute as I explain to you. You see, there are a few basic components to any bullet, all of which must be present to function. There is, of course, the bullet itself, the metal bit on the tip that goes flying into your target. It gets propelled by the gunpowder, which is ignited by the primer when your gun’s firing pin strikes it. I can see you do not understand why I am explaining this to you. The reason, my dear, sweet Peter-“ Purge ran his hand down alongside Peter’s cheek. ”Is because this bullet here? Is missing the vital gunpowder needed to create the explosive propulsion. It is a dud, if you will.”
“But… but how could you know?”
”Simply because I removed it myself. I needed to test your loyalty after all, and you failed.”
Peter squinted, trying to think of when the boss could have emptied the gunpowder from his bullets. He had his pistol on him all day and all night. Furthermore, did Purge already question his loyalty before this very moment? Well, it’s not like any of that truly mattered. Not anymore.
“I suppose you’re going to kill me now,” he muttered, looking at the ground.
”Still such a disappointment. No, not at all. Peter, I’ve already killed you. The same power you doubted ever existed, which I used to destroy your powder, will cause a slow, agonizing death. You’ll be feeling it any moment I should think.”
Peter’s eyes opened wide as realization set in. He felt… wrong. His skin was getting more itchy all over. His stomach, oh the nausea. The sensation was small, but he could feel it growing. What was this?
Purge wiped his hand off with disinfectant, then spoke as simply as a man discussing the weather. ”You made me get on the floor.”
Courier 6 and Ratchet
Level 4 - (3/40) EXP (+3 -2 friend heart), Level 3 - (20/20 -> 0/30)
Location: Castle Interior
Word Count: 863
Ratchet flipped off of the falling cage of Fancy Pants after knocking its hanging chain loose, coming to a landing nearby and skidding on the smooth floor. The rather plain guy, with his very nice fancy pants, looked rather rattled by the experience, but his cage smashed open leaving him free all the same. Just a bit roughed up, is all. The others had had similar results in releasing the big ape wearing a tie, and the bear with the bird in a backpack, which still left the small purple dragon and the kid wearing the cape.
Ratchet couldn’t afford to have tunnel vision at this time though, as it seemed that the Courier had betrayed them all, openly declaring loyalty to the bigger, badder Bowser, and shooting some of them in the process! ”Hey! What’s the big idea?!” he cried out, equipping the Bombbuilder, but before he could get an answer or shoot at the traitor, Zer0 had shot straight through him. Multiple times. Just like back at the bridge. ”I guess I can tell where I’m not needed.”
The lombax shrugged it off, assuming the Courier dealt with, and repeated his previous endeavor to free more allies by hopping up (with a little boost from Clank) to the cage holding the purple dragon, who although injured looked infinitely better prepared for this battle than some child playing superhero. Once up, he went to pry the chain off with his trustee omniwrench yet again.
Meanwhile, the Courier’s gambit had paid off, though sadly not nearly to the degree he had hoped. The bad Bowser appeared to be fooled, as did his allies, yet the false koopa king’s response was less than thrilling, determining that the Courier wouldn’t necessarily be a target, but he also didn’t give a damn if he had crushed him as collateral, a threat he made good on when he pulled into his shell to go into a wild and crazy spin maneuver!
Nearby, Tora was tossed out of the way, while 6 had to rely on his own dodging ability, rolling to the side in hopes of not getting squished. He was successful, though narrowly. The spinning king ran over the tails of his duster, tearing a large chunk of it off the back, though thankfully the large spade design was left unblemished. The Courier could only think of how he’d make this evil Bowser pay for such an unforgivable crime, but while he was tucked away in the shell there was nothing he could do. Yet this provided another opportunity.
While spinning, it stood to reason this Bowser was blind, which meant that the Courier could drop his ruse without being found out, and openly undermine the king’s regime. The best way to do that, considering nothing in his arsenal would be able to harm Bowser inside the shell, was to secure more allies. Of those that had been dropped down so far, he had the choice between an injured gorilla with impeccable fashion sense, a guy with a mohawk and really nice pants, or a walking bear and bird. Since the gorilla was nearest, Donkey Kong was the first to receive the Courier’s friend heart.
“Oof oof,” DK said, his color palette returning to normal, revitalized by the heart.
”No time to explain, just kick that guy’s ass, and if it looks like I’m fighting our team, it’s a lie,” the Courier spoke quickly, as Megadragonbowser emerged from his shell. Damn, that was too fast, he couldn’t secure any more allies. Thankfully, their Bowser kept him occupied for a few moments, utilizing some sort of bizarre… Cartoonish… Stupid… Absurd mechanical boxing hat? That was awesome! 6 idly tapped the brim of his rawhide, half-hoping he could summon mechanical boxing gloves from it, but alas such was never meant to be.
”Look out below!” called Ratchet. Spyro’s cage came crashing down, smashing open for the dragon, another potential ally.
The Courier was already making a run for Blazermate, gun outstretched in a menacing way as he fired another shot, which missed entirely on purpose. He only had 2 shots before a necessary reload. The pair were far enough away from their enemy that he hoped he could talk over the cacophony of battle and not be heard by the titanic turtle-dragon. ”I’m hitting safe spots on purpose to get his trust, the injuries are superficial. Sneak some heals my way as Zer0 hits him through my body, will ya?”
The smaller, friendlier Bowser had been knocked aside by now as the imposing enemy issued a challenge, a threat, to everyone left. Ratchet of course couldn’t let such a challenge go unanswered. There hadn’t been any charge time for his Bombbuilder since the fight on the bridge, but it still had one proximity mine charge left. He carefully took aim from the sidelines and pulled the trigger.
”Eat this!”
Courier 6 and Ratchet
Level 4 - (2/40) EXP, Level 2 - (17/20)
Location: Castle Bridge -> Castle Interior
Word Count: 2108
Ratchet obtains striker Clank! Courier 6 levels up, new Strength Spray N’ Pray! - All friendly fire both to and from Courier 6 only deals 25% damage.
Zer0
Level 3: 14/30
Gaige
Level 1: 3/10
Word Count: 2108
A collab between @propro and [@OldAmsterdam]
Ratchet slowly roused from his unconsciousness, still beat to hell from his own explosion. Once his vision cleared, he saw the back of the Courier walking away from him. What had happened? And what was he holding? Head pounding, the lombax checked his grip only to be horrified by what he saw: the spirit of Clank, his best friend, worrying over Ratchet’s own injuries.
”That’s two you owe me,” the Courier called back without so much as a glance, waving two fingers up in the air. A pang of anger hit Ratchet right in the heart. Not so much at the Courier, who did what he had to do, but at himself. He let himself get caught up in Galeem’s light again because he was so happy to see Clank, and it ended up destroying his best friend. He couldn’t ever let that happen again.
”I’m so sorry, Clank. Can you ever forgive me for being so stupid?” He asked the little orb in earnest. He needn’t wait long for a reply, as the orb manifested as a full form Clank in but a moment.
“Of course I can. It would not be the first time, hmhmhmhmhm.” The little robot smiled as though there weren’t a problem in the world, and Ratchet tackled him in a big hug.
”Oh man, I’m so glad you’re ok little buddy!”
Clank broke the embrace and shook his head matter of factly. “In a manner of speaking. According to my analysis of internal power reservoir, my current form is maintained by the strength of your spirit. I can only be ‘manifested’ for a limited time before returning to your person to recharge.”
”Well, I guess that’s better than nothing.” Ratchet said, picking up his wrench and swinging it around a couple times to make sure it was still well balanced. ”Looks like most of the fun here is about done. I’d say it’s about time we get into that castle to kick some butt!”
“Affirmative!” Clank demanifested as Ratchet took off, stopping by Blazermate for a quick heal first.
Meanwhile, Courier 6 had spotted that Zer0’s bout with the young girl had ended in his victory, and the subsequent friend hearting (was hearting a word? Whatever, it is now) of the former friend turned enemy now turned friend again. That was a lot of turns. Like a turnstile. Heh. Man, drugs were fun. They were the only reason he was approaching the duo without any anger or malice from the last little encounter he had with Zer0. Instead he’d rather focus on something more important.
”This robot right here? Really fucking cool,” he said, shooting Death Trap with finger guns. ”I love this whole multiple world universe crap. I’m getting to explore so much more than I’ve ever thought of before! And so many robots too! I tell ya what, chica, you ever want someone to collaborate on some upgrades, some new systems or guns, you talk to me. I can turn a toaster, an old battery, and some scrap metal into an RC death machine, hehehe.”
Then, for the first time, he focused on Zer0, almost as though the assassin had only just appeared on his radar. Slowly the Courier reached out with a hand and placed it on Zer0’s shoulder, if the man (woman? Robot? Alien? Mutant?) would allow. ”We didn’t really get much of a chance to talk about what happened earlier. I just wanted to say, it won’t happen again. Even if you try it again. Which you might find yourself needing to do in the very near future, if you get my meaning.” Wink. Wink. Wait, he wasn’t winking, he was just blinking. One more time. Wiiiiink. Ok, that was right.
“Oh heck yeah,” Gaige exclaimed, shooting fingerguns right back at the Courier. “Don't know you, but sure! I built DT by hand, well hands at one point but that's besides the fact, and ain't nothing that a little work didn't fix anyways. And it feels so good to punch a Skag in the face, let me tell you Mr. Tall, Dark, and Creepy.”
Zer0 watched impassively as the two talked, not moving except to turn his head to take in the settling battles. At the Courier's words, however, he lifted one hand in a thumbs up sign as he mock-shot at the Merc.
“Well, well, well well well well well well. Zer0 making friends? Next thing you're going to tell me is that Hammerlock wanted dinner.”
”’Friends’ might just be putting things a bit too affectionate,” the Courier started, swaying just a bit as he air quoted the word. ”But we both took on the bigger challenges together, and he called me a… How’d be put it? A badass vault hunter? So I figure he’s part of my posse.”
“That's what we are. Vault Hunters. Badasses. If Zer0 counts you among us, you're a friend. So, yeah, what's the sitch?”
6 looked a little incredulous at that, but shrugged and went with it. ”Long story short the giant light ball in the sky is a powerful monster thing that tore up different worlds and combined them, and brainwashed all of us, now we’re fighting back because fuck that shit. There’s a giant dragon turtle thing in the castle we need to go kill so our smaller dragon turtle thing can take over,” he jabbed a thumb in the general direction of King Bowser, noticing that the Koopa monarch was actually going ahead and entering the castle. ”Aaaand we don’t have time left to finish so fuck it, let’s go wreck some shit.”
His boots hit the trail once again, kicking up dust as he adjusted the radio on his Pip-Boy. An event this big needed some kick ass music, and he was in luck because he just happened to pick up his favorite song on Radio New Vegas.
“OH YEAH, IT'S ROBOT FIGHTING TIME!” Gaige whooped as her, Zer0, and DT took off right behind the Courier. “So, where's this skag-licker?”
The Courier didn’t answer, instead attempting to catch up with Bowser, Tora, Mario and Geno, and all the others who were already making their way into the castle. It was kind of a dumb question anyway, so he didn't want to waste the breath on it. Gaige would see for herself, after all. They all saw for themselves, as they entered in just behind Ratchet, who was in turn just behind the others.
Mushroom headed people ran around in a frenzy of fear and terror, but ultimately were of no consequence. The Courier ignored them (whilst fantasizing about how he could smoke their heads), while Ratchet offered some consultation, only to realize how fruitless an endeavor it was. Nothing was going to change their panic stricken frenzy, so the commando proceeded right behind the rest.
Gaige, meanwhile, walked up to one of the cowering figured and poked at it with idle curiosity. Determining it to be, ultimately, equivalent to a civilian, Gaige followed on. Her eyes and head never stopped moving as she took in everything, an almost manic look building behind her eyes.
Zer0, however, had eyes only for their enemy.
And what an enemy it was. Megadragonbowser sat upon an equally large throne, gloating over his captured enemies hanging in cages. A small dragon, a large ape with a tie, a kid in a cape, and some… Random dude in orange pants? They were all contained behind bars, leaving the apparent king quite pleased. Their allies sprang into action, with Mario and Geno in particular working to free the captives. Ratchet took a similar approach, his inner hero showing.
”Looks like it’s time to up our arsenal, guys!” Wrench in hand, Ratchet ran toward the nearest platform, dodging and flipping around as fire rained from the ceiling above. Touching that would definitely be a bad end to a bad day, but luckily he was acrobatic enough to avoid it, save one close call that singed a part of his fur.
”Hup!” The lombax flipped up and around, gaining as much height as he could, but it still wasn’t enough to reach the cages.
“Allow me to give you a boost,” came the voice of Clank, who manifested for just a few seconds in his propeller pack form, giving Ratchet just what he needed to reach the cage holding Fancy Pants. He went to work prying at the chain with his omniwrench in hopes of freeing the captive.
Gaige had similar thoughts as the Lombax, as she manifested Deathtrap and stood in his outstretched palm as he flew them up towards the cages.
“GIVE HIM HELL, ZER0!” she yelled as they ascended. Stepping forward as she dismounted, she added her efforts to Ratchet's, applying the above-average strength of her mechanical arm to the task. “DT, OPEN THAT CAGE!” she ordered, excitement clear in her voice, and the robot joined in with his own strength.
Meanwhile, the Courier had an altogether different sort of goal in mind. A plan which could be seen as either insane, or brilliant. No doubt it would leave a lot of people pissed at him, but that was nothing new. Wild card is as wild card does. As everyone else sprang into action, either to attack the megadragonbowser or to help save the captives, the Courier strode forward, slowly, toward their enemy. His head was down, his weapons holstered. Absolutely nothing about him appeared to be dangerous or threatening to the would-be-king. This was, of course, by design. Since this Bowser saw through the ruse earlier, and had that powerful aura preventing violence against him, this would be the only way. At least, that’s how the Courier thought. The others? That was to be seen.
”Oh great and mighty king!” the Courier called out, taking a low bow. ”I promised you many things outside this castle. An army, weapons, all of which have turned against you. But one promise remains: a demonstration.”
With a flourish, the Courier stood up in a twist, facing the rest of his comrades, unholstering his revolver in the process. He pointed the gun upward toward Mario, and the plumber’s newly acquired water pack, and let loose a shot from the powerful magnum. The bullet was aimed for Mario’s torso in what would appear to be a debilitating, potentially lethal, shot. By all accounts, Courier Six had gone turncoat, switching sides to what seemed the more powerful team. Another shot rang out, this one aimed for Blazermate’s cranial unit. Then a third shot headed straight for Linkle’s gut!
”Have I proven my loyalty yet, your majesty?” he called out over the gunshots, moving in closer to the winged koopa king. Had he truly turned traitor? From any initial glance, it would have seemed so, but some things just couldn’t be so black and white. Those shots certainly all looked as though they would have been lethal, but the Courier had a special talent. A talent that worked both ways, and now that he was positioned so close to megadragonbowser, he was glad to be a target for his comrades. That aura pushed back against violent intent to the koopa, but not against others.
Zer0 carefully loaded in the 9 remaining bullets of the special sniper ammo he had gotten from that box that one spirit had released. His actions were almost mechanical, careful, as he seemingly ignored everything going on around him.
As the Courier started blasting away at their comrades, Zer0 didn't even blink. Well, not that he could to begin with. He moved exactly five steps to the side, dropping to one knee as if in submission. His sniper was butt down as if it were a blade
;)
In a single fluid movement, Zer0 brought up his gun, zeroing in on the Courier. The mailman filled his scope, and was all Zer0 was focused on.
He pulled the trigger four times, pausing just a fraction of a second after each shot to compensate for the recoil, sending each bullet through the same trajectory. Which, as he had set himself up in positioning, would tear through what should've been a non-lethal section of the Courier's midsection and into a very lethal area of the Mega Bowser's chest.
There wasn't a lot of time to prepare, so Leonard had to work in overdrive to get as much done as he had wanted. Knowing that the Speedwagon Foundation was footing the bill to get into the next show put on by these alleged stand users took some of the edge off, but the group still needed a plan of action. Some way to catch this trio off guard, in case they were more actively malevolent than Bugsy had been. Therein came both his natural skills at penmanship, as well as the power of his stand, Free Bird. Once it was time to gather the crew, he presented Arthur, Blue, and Mieke each with a lanyard that held a notecard size piece of paper inside.
Greetings and salutations this fine eve, my peers," he began. "Do not, under any circumstances, view the writing on this gift I bestow upon you, lest you wish to completely ruin all efforts on my part and fall under the power of my stand, Free Bird."
With the lanyards handed out, face down of course, he proceeded to pocket one of his own before fully explaining himself. "I utilized my skills with the pen in order to fabricate false all access passes regarding the show of our newest targets. At a glance, they should perform admirably. Under additional scrutiny, the power of Free Bird will take root in whomever views these cards. Take heed, each instance of my stand's power works exactly once. Therefore, whomever reads your card shall be the sole recipient of its ability, which in this instance will be to recognize the holder of said card as a figure of authority. That said, the effect of Free Bird's ability is potent, but slow. At first the target might not respect you at all, but I guarantee within a few minutes you will be seen in only the utmost highest esteem."
With that out of the way, Leonard then produced another paper, which he placed in a standard manilla envelope. "I have inscribed similar power into this document, which states Hogan to be a part of the act, fully domesticated, and should have full access to the entire backstage area. Just as the badges I have handed you, this should only be shown if no other alternative is available. The power of my stand is absolute, and my forgery is quite skilled, but a keen eye might still see through the deception if the power has already been used on someone else. Due to how intricate and difficult a task forgery is, I was only able to draw up exactly one for each of us. Therefore I would suggest we do not split up this time, remain in association with one another, and use our cards as a group only as the need arises."
Greetings and salutations this fine eve, my peers," he began. "Do not, under any circumstances, view the writing on this gift I bestow upon you, lest you wish to completely ruin all efforts on my part and fall under the power of my stand, Free Bird."
With the lanyards handed out, face down of course, he proceeded to pocket one of his own before fully explaining himself. "I utilized my skills with the pen in order to fabricate false all access passes regarding the show of our newest targets. At a glance, they should perform admirably. Under additional scrutiny, the power of Free Bird will take root in whomever views these cards. Take heed, each instance of my stand's power works exactly once. Therefore, whomever reads your card shall be the sole recipient of its ability, which in this instance will be to recognize the holder of said card as a figure of authority. That said, the effect of Free Bird's ability is potent, but slow. At first the target might not respect you at all, but I guarantee within a few minutes you will be seen in only the utmost highest esteem."
With that out of the way, Leonard then produced another paper, which he placed in a standard manilla envelope. "I have inscribed similar power into this document, which states Hogan to be a part of the act, fully domesticated, and should have full access to the entire backstage area. Just as the badges I have handed you, this should only be shown if no other alternative is available. The power of my stand is absolute, and my forgery is quite skilled, but a keen eye might still see through the deception if the power has already been used on someone else. Due to how intricate and difficult a task forgery is, I was only able to draw up exactly one for each of us. Therefore I would suggest we do not split up this time, remain in association with one another, and use our cards as a group only as the need arises."
Wards: Protean, the Protectorate's Strongest Part III
@Old Amsterdam@yoshua171@Gardevoiran@BCTheEntity@Lugubrious
Protean watched as Messiah blasted Tulpa's creation with fire from behind, taking in the results of the action, but he did not do so idly. He took a jump back in surprise at the sudden massive increase in the thing's size, its energy field having had a growth spurt along with the physical body. Damn, how lucky. There's no way she detected it after she manifested the projection, but this maneuver set back my strategy! Despite effectively having two sets of eyes, one pair focused exclusively on Tiger Lily, most of his focus had been taken up by the projection. While he noticed Tiger Lily's transformation and counter attack, he was just sluggish enough to be caught up in it. The dinosaur girl tore off the head of his snake arm, which dropped limply to the floor. Almost instantly the stub stopped all bleeding and reformed into something more useful: another mantis shrimp claw. However the dead snake head had been separated from him completely, and he was powerless to stop Tiger Lily from smashing through the wall. Well, no matter. She merely gave him another exit if this fight proved too troublesome. The remaining Wards before him were a far more pressing issue.
---- Tiger Lily ----
Rather than a verbal response in her communicator, Tiger Lily received directions in the form of small LEDs lighting up along the floor in a single path. They appeared to snake around the lobby and into another hall, stopping at a completely blank wall. Once she neared this wall, a series of lights flashed and it opened up, revealing a secret compartment which held a stash of PRT equipment: one combat rifle, one side pistol, and a single containment foam grenade. It wasn't an armory but clearly someone had wanted to be prepared in case of an emergency.
---- Back to the Battle ----
Protean did not move in closer to the massive projection blocking off the entire hallway. Confident he could tank through the energy field it had been armed with, he did not want to risk any other tricks Tulpa had thought of. Her power was even more unpredictable and dangerous than his, and he would not play the fool this day. Instead he waited, but did not have to wait long at all before it shrank down in size once more, becoming a bit larger than its original appearance and moving in on him in a dangerous warpath. The energy field of the projection let off many crackles and sizzles, darkening the floor beneath it and letting up many plumes of smoke. The scent of searing flesh permeated through the hall.
That's when Messiah let off another burning hot spear of flame aimed straight for Protean's head. This became a conundrum as he faced multiple attacks: dodging one could put him at greater risk to another. Determining that the tulpa was the more unpredictable, and therefore more dangerous threat, he opted not to avoid Messiah's blazing projectile. The heat seared away his antennae, melted the globes of his eyes, and scorched his skin. If he were to let out a cry of agony, nobody else would be able to tell as his leaps were melted shut. It seemed he had become easy prey for Tulpa's manifested creature as it moved in for the grapple, but the results proved to be not so. Just before it could complete the grab, Protean's shrimp claw extended outward at impossible blazing speeds, powering through the energy field and punching the creature dead center. The force knocked it back several feet, whipping up a strong wind. Just like the first punch demonstrated, if it had made contact with any of the Wards they'd have been instantly taken out. Luckily the tulpa was made to withstand such forces, but unfortunately those arms simply moved too fast to be affected by the energy field, at least for any more than scratch damage.
They definitely haven't figured it out yet. Good. I just need to hold the line a few more seco-oof! The shapeshifter's train of thought had been cut short when a sudden literal flying brick (wall) slammed into his chest, knocking him back a good few meters and toppling onto his back. Bruises, torn muscle tissue, severed veins, and broken bones healed in a near instant, but it was just enough time for the Wards' next gambit to pay off. The tulpa crossed the distance once more, now combined with Mastar's gooey namesake, and pierced into Protean's flesh just as he began reforming his eyes. The mere proximity of the creature meant that his flesh was bubbling and sizzling, burning away his excess body matter little by little. Of course, he had a lot of body matter, so the more pressing concern was the injection.
"GET OFF!" He unleashed another mighty mantis shrimp punch, this one more devastating than those before it. The force not only knocked the tulpa back along the floor, but put a nice size hole in it. It had been gored from one side straight through the other. This afforded Protean the precious fraction of a second he needed to get back on his feet. Even from the distance they all had put between them, the Wards could make out that Protean was breathing heavy from exertion. That only happened when he had run through large amounts of bio-mass, and for a man that normally contained around 16,000 pounds of bio-mass, that was a lot. But as for the injection site where some of Mastar's tar had gotten into his body? The flesh was falling off, dropping onto the floor. He had forcibly ejected the contaminated tissue from his body, but judging by the size of tissue, he was a good 20-25 pounds shed.
"I'm compartmentalizing sections of my body," he commented through heavy breathes. "Individual circulatory systems. That won't work again, but it was great teamwork. Really. You've all grown a lot. Maybe you can... Even win against Father?" He spoke with an air of sincerity, and regret. Though he undoubtedly fought for his life in this moment, Protean could not shake his affection for the teen heroes he had mentored. And when he spoke of "Father," he held clear disdain in his voice. Despite this, Protean never dropped his guard, and his body was only morphing more parts to fight with.
---- Director Kens ----
No. Not yet. It isn't... Time yet. Just a few more seconds... Once Lillian gets back... If I stay awake that long." Roger Kens glanced down to his bloody wound, still fresh and painful.
The panic that set in with the discovery of the bomb proved to be mostly unwarranted, as it was near instantly, and quite decisively, dealt with by Headhunter. With his power he scoped in with specific parameters to destroy the device, pulled the trigger, and then it was done. A loud BANG shot out in the open air of the airport, a bullet shattered through a window, and then the device lay in many pieces, each one completely inactive and inert. But the danger wasn't over yet.
"It's a bomb!" came the shout of another man from further down the concourse. Either he had not yet been affected by Chatterbox's power, or was still at such a stage that he maintained greater independence, but for one reason or another he did not communicate with the designated tap code opting to cry out in terror. Further down still, to those who were paying attention, a white voice opened up only for a second and no longer, just enough to drop another identical bomb to the floor. Then another, and another. Systematically, about thirty feet apart each time and a few seconds separating the intervals a white void appeared, a flash of the figure of Dr. Dean could be seen, and the void would close up leaving behind another bomb. The information was communicated to Chatterbox with his designated tap code, and it was a clear recognizable pattern. They could take advantage of this.
Leonard raised an eyebrow as he heard Mieke telling her story of the performers. Had he stuck around with the girl, he would have encountered this trio as well, recognized them as stand users, and would have been able to get a leg up on their mission by bringing in three more stand users on top of their initial target. Well wasn't fate funny that way? Then again if he hadn't left to meet up with Blue and Bugsy, there was a chance that Bugsy could have fought back, however pathetic the attempt might have been. He would have missed the opportunity to help mold the comedian's new world outlook. So perhaps it was better that he had left when he did? Regardless, there was one fact that stood out in this situation as a certainty: Mieke had exceeded his expectations at this early stage of the game.
"I must congratulate you on a task well done, Miss Choux," he said. "I expected you to be able to hold your own once the influence of my stand had taken effect on you on the off chance you were attacked by a violent stand user, which is why I trusted you to be able to handle scouting the rest of the gardens by yourself. Keep up the good performance and you may become a master." The lies flowed easily from his lips, but there was an air of sincerity about them. A mix of truth and fabrication, if you will.
Once he had said his piece, Leonard excused himself to take his leave, preferring to prepare for a potential conflict than stick around. If any of his peers followed and chose to keep him company, he would not dismiss them, but neither would he seek it out.
"I must congratulate you on a task well done, Miss Choux," he said. "I expected you to be able to hold your own once the influence of my stand had taken effect on you on the off chance you were attacked by a violent stand user, which is why I trusted you to be able to handle scouting the rest of the gardens by yourself. Keep up the good performance and you may become a master." The lies flowed easily from his lips, but there was an air of sincerity about them. A mix of truth and fabrication, if you will.
Once he had said his piece, Leonard excused himself to take his leave, preferring to prepare for a potential conflict than stick around. If any of his peers followed and chose to keep him company, he would not dismiss them, but neither would he seek it out.
Courier 6
+ Hat Kid
Level 3 - (29/30) EXP (-1 friend heart +3) / Level 1 - (5 -> 8/10) EXP
Location: Castle Bridge
Word Count: 2951 (+3 EXP)
A collab between @propro and @Dawnrider
The Courier had fully expected Ratchet to take the hit from his pickaxe, or at least block it. However unforeseen circumstances meant that his attack was left largely ignored when the owner of the flying house, some small girl in an oversized hat, jumped into the scene from nowhere. Ratchet blocked the young girl’s blow from overhead whilst moving back from the force just barely enough to be missed by the Equalizer. Confused by the sudden appearance of this small child, the Courier only stood idly by as she produced an umbrella, seemingly from nowhere, and further engaged the lombax and small robot. She showed skill beyond her age, that much the Courier had to admit, but her body was still that of a small girl while her opponent was a fully matured alien operating at enhanced power. The conclusion was easy to predict, and the Hat Kid pulled back, stopping right next to the Courier with a small greeting.
Courier 6 smiled warmly at the small girl, feeling a sort of passion warming him internally. Something other than the alcohol, that is. Children certainly were a weak spot of his no matter how drunk or high he was at any given time, and this one seemed to be more charming than most. Capable too, but putting herself in danger wasn’t her duty. That was what adults were for; not that she could have been told that. Little did he know, she had been manipulated and endangered by more adults than have ever been bothered to safeguard her, by an overwhelming margin, so she had plenty of practice taking care of herself in perilous situations.
”Hey,” he shot back, taking a couple steps forward and swinging the Equalizer at Ratchet again. The buffout empowered his body just as the Master Hand had empowered Ratchet and Clank. Axe met wrench in a powerful clash, locking into place. Both combatants pushed hard against one another, but neither would budge.
“Looks like we’re deadlocked,” Ratchet commented. Clank rubbed his chin with a small chuckle.
“Allow me to rectify this quandary,” the little robot added. Still attached to Ratchet’s back, Clank’s limbs transformed into a series of propellers which began to circulate at high speeds. The added force began pushing the deadlocked fighters back, the Courier struggling not to lose his balance.
Seeing an opportunity to gain ground on the opposing duo, Kid followed suit a step behind 6, diving toward them in a lunging somersault, boosting herself forward the second she touched the ground. She curled herself into an improvised cannonball and used the force of the maneuver impact into Ratchet’s side in order to throw him off-balance. It may not have accounted for much given her size, but it would be just enough, if only barely, to tilt him as needed. While still airborne from the impact, she turned her umbrella in hand to hook one of the mounted bot’s propellers with its handle to disrupt and manipulate their propulsion, circling behind them to try to create enough centrifugal force to get them off their feet. The idea was less to throw them than to make them throw themselves, be it downward to bounce them off the stonework, forward towards the Courier for him to follow up, or upward between both of them to accomplish the same. Either way, if she succeeded, one or both of them would have an opening.
The Hat Kid’s strategy worked great for knocking the duo off balance. While the impact of her body didn’t cause any harm in their empowered condition (and likely wouldn’t have done much under regular circumstances either), that didn’t mean Ratchet was anchored to the ground. The added momentum of the Kid spinning off of Clank’s propeller only exacerbated the effect. Luckily for Ratchet, he was an incredibly agile fighter and turned the situation to his advantage.
The lombax broke away from his clash with the Courier and threw his momentum to the side, leaving his omniwrench behind. Together Ratchet and Clank splashed into the moat, but they weren’t out of the thick of things just yet. Clank reoriented his propellers to stay afloat in the water while Ratchet stood atop his little robot buddy as a floating platform. In his hands he produced the Maniac’s Bombuilder, which was pointed right at the bridge. “Looks like it’s time to go commando!”
“Affirmative!” Clank responded as Ratchet pulled the trigger twice, launching two soda can sized bombs from the red barrel, which affixed to the bottom of the bridge completely out of sight of his foes. With another pull of the secondary trigger, the bombs went off in a loud kaboom! Two huge holes blew open in the bridge near the Courier and Kid. The Courier went flying, several smaller cuts opening up all over his body along with some moderate bruising, but the jet in his system let him keep focus.
”Show me what you’ve got, lakelurk!” he called out. The spirit was summoned forth, appearing just beneath him in the moat. The Courier landed on the mutant turtle, grasping around its neck with his left arm and replacing the Equalizer with his magnum pistol. ”YEEHAW!” he cried out, firing two shots at Ratchet.
Kid, surprisingly, was less graceful with her plunge, having been stunned from the concussive force when launched by the explosion. Without the same chemical assistance her partner had, she was slower to react, and plummeted straight into the blue. She resurfaced in time to see him manifest an amphibious humanoid creature to use as his waterborne mount, to which she decided to pop up and out of the water, open her umbrella beneath her feet for use as a buoyant platform, and grasp one of the Westerner’s coattails to use as a tow line. She did this to compensate for her inability to swim for very long, and would have otherwise been unable to keep up with the other two. The cowboy’s creature may have already been supporting his weight, but it was unlikely that she would be adding much to its workload.
She would catch Ratchet’s discarded weapon in her free hand as it fell through glancing off the border of one of the openings just before the Courier’s monster took off with both him and her in tow. To try to reduce any drag, she would periodically spin her parasol while steering as they closed in on their opponents. After they got going at a decent enough pace, Kid veered to the left towards the wall of the moat where it drops off from the castle, twirling her umbrella once more for a quick burst of speed and released her grip on 6’s jacket. Utilizing the momentum created by this, she forcefully bobbed her makeshift floatation device to launch herself from the water and onto the wall, landing on it feet-first into an angled run. She maintained this for as long as physics would allow her to do before leaping off in her enemy’s direction. With both his weapon and hers in hand, she fell towards him at a forty-five or so degree angle and spun swinging both sunshade and tool as she accelerated her fall, aiming to get in at least two strikes on him, but a single solid crack to his forehead with the wrench would do, if she could manage it.
Ratchet had to deal with two opponents now from two different angles, and to make matters worse the lakelurk was far more maneuverable in the water than he was atop Clank. This was a problem he didn’t foresee, but that didn’t mean he was out of the count just yet. The two bullets struck their mark, sinking into his furry skin and drawing blood, but thanks to the Master Hand’s enhancements didn’t cause tremendous damage. Meanwhile the Hat Kid had launched herself into an acrobatic assault using his own omniwrench.
“Big mistake.” He grinned. Switching to holding the Bombbuilder in one hand, the lombax reached out toward Kid with his other, open palmed. The omniwrench she had picked up along the way yanked itself out of her hand and flew right back into his, reclaimed by the specialized magnet glove. Kid, being unaware of this feature, let out a surprised yelp as she was pulled forward faster she meant to go so soon, and suddenly less equipped. Soon as he held his signature weapon again, Ratchet spun around, pulling the primary trigger of the bombbuilder twice and swatting at the Kid with his wrench simultaneously. The Kid was now flying at him without a weapon in hand, while two proximity bombs hit the water right in front of the Courier and his lakelurk mount.
”I shouldn’t have given him that fuckin-” BOOM!
Kid’s gambit backfired unexpectedly when she was smacked head-on with the narrow side of the deceptive multitool, sending her splashing back into the moat. She managed to regain herself while underwater, but instead of resurfacing, she opted to remain submerged and out of sight of her better armed opponent for as long as she could until she could make it to the beachhead just opposite of her where she could gain better footing.
Meanwhile, the Courier felt the sting of water and shrapnel blasting into him, only partially mitigated thanks to his lakelurk using its sonic attack to push back against a portion of the blast. The Courier took a risk by leaping off the back of his mount, effectively desummoning it in the process so that it wouldn’t be blown to smithereens. The remaining shockwave hit him like a tank, tossing him up higher into the air and arching over Ratchet and Clank. Thankfully his subdermal armor, and the added durability provided by the buffout, gave him only moderate damage instead of tearing apart his flesh.
As the wastelander sailed over his foes, an idea came to him, an out of the box idea one normally only gets when addled by drugs. Rather than taking the opportunity to shoot at the pair from above, or recover after hitting water once more, the Courier summoned the spirit of the Bastion in configuration: tank. As he did so, time slowed to a near halt, and suddenly numbers appeared before the Courier’s eyes. VATS had been activated. Target: Ratchet. Mode of attack: let gravity drop a fucking tank on his ass. Chance of hit: 99.4%. Engage.
“What? Oh no! Move it, Clank!” Desperation overtook Ratchet as he fired his second to last bomb directly upward. Alas, Clank was incapable of moving at speeds fast enough to avoid the obstacle, not without his jet booster module. The proximity bomb struck the Bastion as intended, but that didn’t deter gravity, and the explosive still took a fraction of a second to go off. Ratchet had trapped himself beneath an exploding tank-bot. Bastion collided with him head on, pressing Ratchet and Clank into the water, where the explosive ultimately detonated, creating a small tidal wave that washed up on shore. The Courier was shaken, but ultimately unharmed. Bastion had taken massive damage, barely functional, but returned to spirit form within the Courier. As for Ratchet and Clank, the results were less pretty. The lombax had taken heavy burns, knocked unconscious, saved only thanks to his tripled durability. Clank on the other hand, well… Clank was never a very powerful or sturdy robot, and three times the durability didn’t make nearly the difference. Metal bits sank to the bottom of the moat, replaced by a floating spirit.
The child hadn’t seen the tank fall onto the Lombax and explode on top of him; she had only felt its effects behind her, which were effectively likenable to that of a depth charge. The pressure wave sent her reeling end over end, abruptly pushing her closer to shore. She pulled herself to and took a moment to catch her breath before looking back to examine what had just taken place. All she caught was the water’s sporadic ebb gradually dying down and the commando’s unconscious form float to the top, resting face-up on the waterline. Deeming him now harmless, she took it upon herself to get back in and swim him to safety. She didn’t really have any personal stake in his well-being, having known him only as an adversary in this short time, but it wouldn’t have made sense to simply forsake him either. Besides, it wouldn’t have reflected well on her character to leave him after someone had performed the same favor for her earlier today. Everyone here, on both sides, was fighting for a reason. Even if it wasn’t yet clear to her what that was, she thought the better of apathetically resigning him desultory defeat. She pulled the comatose feline onto land and rolled him on his side to let his lungs drain, gently slapping his back to assist the process to the best of her ability.
As Ratchet was being rescued by the errant Kid, the Courier used the advantage of his temporary steroids to swim to shore, stopping only to grab the spirit of Clank as he continued forward. Once he reached the shoreline, 6 let out a deep gasp, something to provide him relief from all the adrenaline he had to deal with so far today. So many battle of such intensity, and they still were not done. If he weren’t for the healing powers of Blazermate, or his buffout, the Courier sincerely doubted he’d have been able to last as long as he had so far.
He trudged over to where the Kid was helping Ratchet, and solemnly glanced to the spirit in his hand. This little robot was someone Ratchet was willing to fall back under Galeem’s power for. It was his best friend. Now the little robot was a casualty of war. And war never changes. But people do. The Courier understood that intrinsically. Hopefully the experience would change Ratchet for the better, but first he had to be liberated once again. The Courier touched his heart, snapped his fingers, and drew out another friend heart, imbuing it into the unconscious lombax.
As the color returned to Ratchet’s body, 6 turned to his surprise ally. ”You did good, kid. I could use you in my posse.”
Kid eyed her partner curiously when he summoned a healing heart, a previously undemonstrated ability that he didn’t appear he should reasonably be capable of, and let it drift into the body of their opponent turned rescue. The child placed her hand to her chest, held it for a second, and gestured forward to attempt the same, but produced nothing. As she observed the effects, she started to wonder if the same was done to her; if this was how she was brought back. This all but answered her question as to what they were fighting for: to bring back those who had been lost.
She took note of the Courier’s compliment and comment about allying. Well, doy! She had that idea first, hence her impulse to intervene. This made him the second one today to suggest as much, but she was under the assumption that all those with their hue still intact were on the same side anyways, which technically meant she already accepted the proposal. Still, she took it for what it was and offered the rugged merc a soft smile and a fist bump as affirmation. She had to admit, despite not knowing this guy (or any of these people), they did do good work acting together. She was normally alone in all of her affairs and escapades, so maybe she could use a comrade; a friend (or several). It would certainly be nice to not be alone in everything for once.
Oh hell yes, a fist bump! The Courier hit that shit hard, harder than was probably safe with his drunken, high, roided out self. BAM! Fist bump! ”You can take care of yourself pretty well, kid. I’ll see about getting you a better weapon than that, uh, the hell is that?” He gestured to the umbrella. Funny, despite coming from a desert he never knew about umbrellas. Just one of those little details that didn’t make the transition into the post-nuclear apocalypse.
The slightly over-enthusiastic return of the friendly gesture toppled the child. Apparently, her comrade didn’t know his own strength versus hers, but she thought nothing of it. She sat back up tipped her hat back into place before acknowledging his comment about her umbrella. What was wrong with it?! It served its purpose just fine for her as a weapon, despite not being designed or intended as such, and it performed a multitude of other functions just as well. It’s most common--and original--she saw fit to demonstrate by opening sunbreaker and reaching on a tip-toe to break the sun above him, handing it to him if we would receive it (but expecting it back, of course).
Feeling a bit cautious, the Courier took the umbrella in his hand. He had to admit, blocking the sun like this felt pretty nice. He glanced up to view the interior, and instantly regretted it. Oh god, spiders! Spiders everywhere! Get them off, get them away! ”Ah!” he jumped, throwing it back at its owner. Suitably creeped out (WHY did a kid carry tons of spiders around with her?!) he shifted uncomfortably away, then carefully placed the spirit of Clank into Ratchet’s hand. It looked like he was going to wake up any moment.
Courier 6
Level 3 - (27/30) EXP
Location: Castle Bridge
Word Count: 1899
Almost immediately after the Courier beseeched the spirits in his hands, they manifested in a solid form in accordance to his will. Flanking either side of the Courier was now a large transforming robot, and a mutated humanoid beastly snapping turtle monster. Yes, this pleased the Courier greatly. Far too many lakelurks had tried to get the better of him in the past, while Bastion had nearly decimated him (though that was largely thanks to Zer0), and now they both stood connected to his will, his path.
Oh god.
Oh god.
He subsumed their wills. Well, the lakelurk was just an animal so that was not nearly of consequence, but the Bastion? Mechanical though he be, the Courier could not deny what he observed in the programming: it had a personality and free will. He was no stranger to artificial intelligences with self awareness. After all, ED-E displayed the hallmarks, as did Muggy back in the Big Empty. Was he overstepping his bounds? No, no he decided. He wasn't overwriting their wills. They were dead and he gave them a new purpose. A new lease on life as it were, that just so happened to be linked to him. He could feel it. The strikers could break that bond with him if he mistreated them, he felt. The sudden realization that he just might have become what he hated most, it put a pit in his stomach. Like when you think you lost something only to realize you were holding onto it the whole time. It didn’t help that he was so under the influence that a great deal of rational thought escaped him. Damn, if only he had some mentats to balance out the alcohol and the jet!
Wait, were other people talking while he was having this internal crisis? The strikers vanished, the little spirits returning to his own body as he refocused on the situation. That little guy, Mario, seemed to have been saying something but the Courier completely missed it. Then Din was… Dancing? Well, she was a dancer, and dancers danced. Just like he was a courier and couriers… Couried? Was that a word? Oh look, a cloud that looked like a mail package, heh heh heh. No, stay focused. The Courier shook his head and zeroed in on Din, attempting to figure out just why the hell she was dancing at a time like this. While her magic empowered him, his brain was too addled by chemicals to feel the difference, so she merely looked to be wasting time in a dangerous life or death situation.
Then the giant Bowser bellowed his declarations that he knew what they were doing and he wasn’t stupid. ”Whaaaaaat? Noooooo. That’s crazy, you’re-you’re craaaazy!” Perhaps not the most convincing argument, but there it was, not that he’d have been able to see the results of such an attempt for another behemoth of a creature interrupted them. A giant… Gloved hand?
”Ok, now I’ve seen some crazy shit in my time… Both sober and totally not sober… But a giant disembodied hand? Pffffft. As Benny would say, get outta here, ya fink!” He waved aside the Master Hand, but of course it did not react to him in any way, as he held no power to influence this godlike being. Probably for the best to be frank.Regardless, a small mushroom headed midget was produced from the hand, which spoke to the giant Bowser in secret before taking off, and the winged Bowser likewise left them. Something about some pests in the castle? Wait, Geno was in that castle, right? No, Geno was right here. But Geno was in the castle. So if he was but wasn’t anymore, then who was castle? Ah fuck it, they’d find out eventually.
Then the giant hand spoke, er, vibrated? It made wordy words with no mouth. Haha. Fuuun. Some stupid bullshit about fate and being destined to die and the light and blah blah blah a different flavor of the same old maniacal rhetoric the Courier had heard a million times before from Caesar and legate Lanius and Father Elijah and god dammit was he sick and tired of hearing this stupid crap! Everlasting paradise, please. Life is built on blood, sweat, and piss and vinegar. If this were a perfect paradise then there wouldn’t be any war, no bloodshed, but the battle between the rabbids and the robots had already shown that truly, war? War never changes. Which meant this hand’s word was the same as it jacking off.
He was about to say as much too, but then seven figures were beamed into existence. Seven figures that all were vastly different from one another. The hand said that they would hold the line and prevent the group from entering the castle, and battle with three times their normal power. Three times? Damn, that might actually be impressive! The Courier would have rolled up his sleeves before getting to work, if he actually had any sleeves. Instead he took a step forward, ready for a fight, before giving pause as Ratchet ran ahead. The little cat guy embraced a tiny robot that he apparently knew? What happened next nearly knocked the Courier back into sobriety, as the light enveloped Ratchet, reclaiming him. The lombax reunited with his best friend Clank, and in doing so succumbed to Galeem’s power once again. ”Well… Shit.”
Six really didn’t have any words for what he had just witnessed, but looking around he could tell that the little robot wasn’t the only one with a close connection to one of the group. Zer0 took special interest in the dirty, grimy teenager with the metal arm and the robot, dashing aside and luring her away. Roadhog took an interest in a scrappy looking bandit junk man, and their battle began with explosive results. Six winced at the sound of the explosions, hating them as much as ever. Those two were far from the only ones, however, as it seemed that every one of the fighters summoned by the hand were, in fact, close to somebody. If he weren’t still high off his ass, the Courier might have wondered by only seven, why not one for everyone? And why did he not have someone Did he really not have anybody that could be considered a close friend? But such thoughts were lost in favor of how the kid in the baseball cap looked like a wuss ass punk, or how the robot looking girl with pistol-like limbs was really darned cute.
Then his attention wandered back to Ratchet and his newly reunited buddy, Clank. As others took up arms against one of the newly summoned warriors, the Courier merely strode forward, silently, cautiously, his gun out but not at the ready to fire. He approached the lombax, who now had his robot buddy strapped to his back.
”Ratchet,” he said simply.
“Hey, uh, I never did get your name?” Ratchet responded, friendly, happy even.
“It would appear that I am not the only one who has not been properly introduced to your new friends, Ratchet,” Clank said from atop the lombax’s backside.
”Don’t worry about it,” the Courier replied, eyes narrowed on the two. ”Couldn’t introduce myself if I wanted to. Awhile back some fink put two bullets in my brain. Messed around with the wiring a bit.”
“Oof,” Ratchet replied, recoiling back a moment. “You know, some nanotech could fix that right up.”
“I am certain that we have a good many friends capable of helping to resolve your mental faculties. In any case please allow me to make your acquaintance. I am Clank, pleased to meet you.” Clank extended a hand outward to shake the Courier’s, who did so with some trepidation.
“It’s good to be back with ya, little buddy!” Ratchet exclaimed. Clank let out his signature laugh in response.
”Mhm. Well, this is… I’d hate to interrupt this reunion, but don’t you see anything wrong with this situation, Ratchet?” the Courier asked.
“Not at all. Why?”
”Huh. Well, it’s just that we need to go inside and kick that other Bowser’s ass…” The Courier definitely felt weirded out. Some of the others jumped into combat very quickly. By comparison Ratchet and Clank were quite cordial. They seemed to still be treating him as a friend and ally.
“Oh, I get ya. Sorry, but that’s a no can do.” Ratchet responded with some added finger guns for good measure.
“Affirmative,” Clank added. “I am afraid that we cannot let you pass this structure.”
”And why… Not?” The Courier tilted his head.
“You do not have the proper clearance, I am afraid,” Clank continued.
“Yeah, you’re just not allowed,” added Ratchet with a shrug.
The Courier decided he’d try to test it by stepping forward. Ratchet reached out with his omniwrench, blocking the way. “Sorry, wish I could let you go. I really do. We’re missing out on a lot of action in there, I’m sure.”
Six tried to push his luck further by ducking under the wrench. Ratchet brought it down. “I know you heard me. You’re not allowed to go by.”
”And why not?”
“You’re just not,” was all the answer the lombax could provide. Clank nodded sagely, as if this were somehow a commonly understood law of the universe, like gravity.
”I see. Well Ratchet, you remember that favor you owe me?”
“You mean when you dumped that grenade launcher on me and just decided that for yourself?” Ratchet shot back, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
”Sure. Listen, I need to get past.”
“Oof. Yeah, sorry. Can’t do it. But I could do other things for you?”
The Courier frowned. This experimentation was getting him nowhere quick, but at least he was able to determine some specific things about these fighters. It seemed like there wasn’t going to be any way around it. They’d have to fight. If he shot at the duo, then no doubt they’d respond in kind by using that grenade launcher. That would be a surefire way to get killed real fast. That meant the Courier needed to handle this up close and personal. Dammit, he wasn’t that great in melee combat. Well, he didn’t feel his martial arts return to him at least; he was still drained, which in essence meant he wasn’t going to be as good in a melee fight. That left him only one alternative. What was another chem to his drugged out body?
The Courier produced the bottle of buffout, popped the lid off, and downed the pills. Instantly he could feel the effects making way through his body. The super steroids lived up to the reputation, bulking up his muscles to superhuman levels. Tougher, stronger, sturdier, and they’d last about an hour. Tossing the bottle aside into the moat, the Courier pulled out the Equalizer and held it in a single hand, feeling as though he could squeeze too hard and break the damn thing. ”Sorry about this,” he said, sincerely, as he took a swing horizontally straight for Ratchet’s midsection.
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