Sophistemon

Sam looked at Reyes and nodded. "For... for what it's worth, it's been a pleasure meeting you. Thanks for the help, Reyes; I'll do my best." He spared another glance at the writhing monster and then left through the indicated door. It wasn't until he'd passed through when something struck him. "She?" He didn't have much experience at all with Warne's personal life, but for some reason he didn't strike the magician as being much of a man for dating. Then again, it could be any 'she,' he supposed. He looked about himself, gripping the wand tightly in his hand, and continued onward through the avenues of Adept's subconscious.

Now, that's just coulrophobic of you, Blarghy. Clowns are no more or less inherently frightening than anyone else. EDIT I think I should reiterate that Punchline is meant to be more of a cartoon than an actual clown. His demeanor is based on that of Daffy Duck, which is why he can sometimes come across as sly and spiteful. As a matter of fact, he was originally conceived as a character called 'Rascal Rabbit' but I felt that was too on the nose. In terms of personality, he's almost entirely id, if you'll forgive the outdated Freudian reference. He sees the snack tray and he starts stuffing his face -- it's all about the infantile pursuit of basic pleasures. He's very childish in a way, but his borderline invincibility has made him a child that can't be fittingly chastised for bad behavior. In much the same way that the fun of playing Presto comes from clashing his ego-maniacal tendencies against the expectations of being a superhero, the fun of playing Punchline comes from turning those same expectations inside-out, of approaching heroism from a perspective of unadulterated (see what I did there?) childishness. Punchline is what might happen if tying that towel around your neck at age 7 actually made you a superhero: all of the power, with none of the restraint that comes with growing up. As for his laugh, at least, I hear it in my head as aping Cesar Romero. It's perhaps a bit more shrill, replete with plenty of cavorting about. I think that I've described Punchline's voice as trending towards being high, though that should only come into play when he's at his more manic phase. Mark Hamill will always be the Joker to me, but Cesar's laugh had actual glee in it, which I think is important. He is, after all, single-minded in his obsession with having a good time.

"God!" Presto leaped back, aimed his wand... and hesitated, remembering the dire warning. He stared down at the monster that thrashed beneath Reyes' boot and made a face of disgust. "I guess you can't just... kill it, can you?" he asked. "It's a part of Warne just like you are, just like the hit-squads... so you're all here to stay whether you're good for him or not." He shook his head and turned away. "I shouldn't be seeing this. I shouldn't be here. Damn you, Baku." He sighed and slumped against a wall. "Why couldn't he just let it go? It was over, Reyes! I'll never understand the stupid desire for revenge. Do you have any idea how many people I met in prison who couldn't talk about anything other than getting out and killing the hero that put them there? We're talking geniuses, people who could have done anything, and all they wanted was to show some costumed nut that they were stronger." He raised a hand and cupped his face. "All I ever wanted was fame and fortune. At least that's rational."

Thank you all so much for being patient. As an aside, how are you folks reading Punchline's dialogue? I'm not writing him with any particular voice in mind, and your interpretations will help me settle on something.

@Avenger Assembled & @Heritage: Punchline hooted a long, loud whoop of excitement as Miracle Girl effortlessly lifted her twin passengers and took to the air. When she turned about and flew back in the direction from which she'd come -- which appeared to be an imposingly durable wall of corrugated steel -- there was a moment of trepidation. But thankfully, the projectionist back in the real world was keeping everyone thoroughly in frame, and the three heroes found themselves begrudgingly accepted by the space between worlds. It had reassembled itself following Miracle Girl's first intrusion, and remained as obstinately resistant to their passage as before, but there was a distinct feeling of bizarre alien relief when Casey burst free and hovered, triumphantly, in the air at the center of the theater. Punchline wriggled in her grip and fell free, landing on the ground with a crouch. He stood, yellow eyes glowing, and grinned. "At last," he said, his voice a throaty chortle. "After ten-thousand years, I'm free." He spread his arms wide, gloved hands palms up, and turned his face to the ceiling. "It's time to conquer Earth!" He giggled, and looked back to Miracle Girl and Sea Devil. "Just kidding. Hey, thanks for the assist!" He glanced around the theater and spotted the lunch-meats. "Ooo," he cooed. "Snacks!" He rushed to the tray and began shoveling slices of ham between slices of bread and stuffing the resulting sandwiches into his mouth. "I was in space for days," he complained, speaking around a mouthful. "And let me tell you, that space-food is terrible! There wasn't a Beefy Burger for miles!" He tried to laugh, choked on a bite of sandwich, and coughed. "Needs mustard," he muttered to himself, and retrieved a bottle of the stuff from a previously nonexistent pocket. @Blarghy: As Adept flew through the air in a desperate race to reach the others and reveal what he'd learned, he couldn't help but notice just how many closed-circuit television cameras there were dotted around the city. How many did the armored villain have access to? Was he spying on Warne even now, and plotting further evil? Signs point to yes, as the 8-Ball might say. This was proven when the telekinetic flew over a variable-message sign suspended above a highway which read I'M ALWAYS WATCHING, JAMES before changing back to the much more usual CONSTRUCTION: NEXT TWO MILES.

Presto is pushed along, and reflexively summons his wand -- but then remembers the warning he'd received earlier. "What's happening?" he asked. "Colonel, what's going on?" His mask appears, spreading across his face like an inky-black stain, and his eyes turn to a polished, shining silver. "How can I help?"

Olopi, would you mind giving me a brief rundown of what Upgrade is authorized to disclose to the media?

The magician remained silent for a moment before responding. When he did, his voice was flat. "I hope so," he said, and left it at that. He didn't like the idea of being 'them' forever, even if it was only in the eyes of one heavily damaged person. It irked at him, like a spider-bite that he couldn't quite scratch. It nipped and niggled at his ego, the idea that he'd never be good enough to change Warne's mind about him. But here it was, coming straight from the agent's mind itself. There was nothing Sam could do about it, so he decided to keep moving. "I've heard of the Horned Dragon," he finally spoke. "He and I never worked together that I can remember, but we traveled in similar circles. The guy in the armor, though, I don't know. If he can get through to Warne, though, more power to him."

@Avenger Assembled & @Heritage: Punchline stared at Miracle Girl for a moment, and then a smile slowly started to split his face in half until it reached from one ear across to the other. "You know," he said. "I've never actually tried. Give me a second." He reached into a pocket that Casey couldn't be sure had been there a moment ago and withdrew a long, slim black balloon. He blew into it and then quickly, skillfully began to bend, twist, and tie it into shape. When he was done, it closely resembled a moderately dented lead pipe. He gave it a tentative tap in his palm to test the heft, then nodded his approval. "Well, what do you know? I can!" He hooted laughter and tossed the pipe behind him, where it clanged noisily against the steel grating of the floor. "This is all so new to me. I wonder if I can fly? Wow, that'd be a blast!" He reached out took Casey by the shoulders. "You're Miracle Girl," he breathed. "I've seen you on teevee! Boy, I'm a big fan!" He removed his hands and leaped over to Sea Devil. "And you! You came in first! You didn't even know if you could! I owe you both more than I can say." He sniggered, then attempted to compose himself. "When do we get out of here?" @Blarghy: The phone went off in mid-air, just as Agent Warne engaged his protective telekinetic shield. The room was filled with a flash of bright light as electricity poured through the screen, arced over the phone and melted it into a puddle of smoking black slag that quickly sank into the apartment's lackluster carpeting. Whatever secrets it might have held were gone now -- at least physically. The room, at least, was mercifully silent. If the armored villain was still watching, they were doing so quietly.

Sam turned his eyes away and walked with his features facing forward. He didn't want to see anymore. "They were afraid of him," he mused, then shook his head. "That's awful. I... don't think I can relate. My parents were always really supportive. I kind of broke their hearts a little bit when I went into stage-magic, because they had these high hopes that I'd go to medical school and be a doctor, but I turned that around when I started headlining in Las Vegas. Then the... the, ah, the accident happened, and everything went bad." It suddenly occurred to Sam that he hadn't spoken to his parents since the day he'd been released, and he didn't know what made him sadder: that he hadn't called them, or that they hadn't called him. "I tried really hard to get on his good side when we went after Baku the first time, before we knew it was Baku. I kind of got the feeling, when I first met him, that Warne didn't think I could be a different man. I'd made my mistakes, and they defined me. I wanted to prove him wrong, so I could prove to me that I was changing." He smiled wanly. "I'm not sure if it worked."

Ethan sighed, then keyed his external communicators for maximum ham. "Folks, you've just witnessed a minor confrontation between AEGIS, assisted by the hero Bonfire over there, and the Horned Dragon." He pointed one beefy metal finger at Bonfire, then returned his attention to the crowd. "The Horned Dragon has been defeated, and is in our custody awaiting transportation to a nice, cozy holding cell to sit in while we tally up the charges. Bonfire, as you can see, has already begun reducing the damage caused by the Horned Dragon's fire-breath. I'm sure we're all really thankful for that." Ethan cleared his throat inside the cockpit and continued. "It's important to note that everything's currently under control. The bad guy's in custody, the good guys won, and nobody got hurt. That's a big check in the 'win' column."

Presto walked after Reyes, his eyes on the memories, his heart growing heavy. He hadn't thought the AEGIS agent to be heartless, but to know now that he'd suffered, and it was his suffering that had made him how he was... it changed a few things. It wasn't just Warne that he'd been trying to win over throughout the course of their bizarre dealings, it was decades of loneliness, pain, and despair. After taking a moment to process everything that he'd just heard, the magician could only say: "I had no idea..." before lapsing once more into silence. Finally, after an agonizing minute had passed between words, he spoke again. "Did Warne grow up with AEGIS? Does he have any family of his own?"

Presto stared at the older man, this internal representation of something, and felt the beginnings of a smile stretch the corner of his cheeks, lifting the ends of his goatee. "I... think I needed to hear that, Colonel Reyes. Thank you." When the elevator doors opened, Sam looked down the hallway and bit his lower lip. "What's at the other end?" he asked. Then, suddenly, a thought occurred. "Who are you, sir? Outside Warne's head, I mean. He didn't make you, did he? No offense to Warne, but you seem too real to have been cooked up by his imagination."

"No spell of mine," admitted the magician. "Even at my worst, I never dealt with minds. I was always... well, I was always more of a showman than a manipulator." After that, he fell silent for a while. "I'm sorry," he said. "I had a chance to capture Baku when Warne and I went up against him the first time and I blew it. I thought he'd lick his wounds a while, stay away from us after the beating he got, but the truth is... I didn't even look for him after the fight. I was so high on victory that the idea of following up on the little monster didn't seem that important." He sighed. "This is my fault, and I'm going to set it right if it's the last thing I do."

"Does Warne know I'm here?" Presto asked, his voice a nearly-panicked whisper. What the agent might do if he knew... Sam didn't want to think about it. He shook his head, deciding it didn't matter in the long run. "So, if you're taking me somewhere, I guess I can't get out the way I came in? I understand stopping Baku, but, ah, where do you think he's going?" There was a lot going on here that he didn't understand. Did everyone have internal defenses along the lines of Warne's kill-squads? If so, what were Sam's like? The idea of needing to avoid using his magic or risk summoning their attention was also disconcerting. Sam was mildly athletic, but without his mystic might he'd be of little use against Baku.

These people live in Freedom City. This is normal.

Okay, thank goodness. Talking. I can do talking. Ask Blarghy -- I never shut up.

"Roger that, Warne. Coming in for a landing now." He touched down before the crowd of reporters and punched in the automated repair system's activation code. Fresh panels of armor slid free of their housings and replaced the AMP's damaged components, leaving him looking clean and shiny. Upgrade raised one beefy metal arm and motioned to the assembled group. "Hello!" he bellowed, mechanical voice buzzing with the effort of enhanced friendliness modules. "How're we all doing today? Nothing to see here, folks; we've got everything under control."

The magician took to his feet and nodded, sparing a moment to smooth back his hair before shaking the offered hand. "He's called Baku, and he eats nightmares. Or, he did. I don't know what he's up to know. He's after Agent James Warne. We worked together to stop Baku from playing havoc with Freedom City's magic users." He breathed, suddenly uneasy. "Baku's after Warne. He couldn't get into minds before, not really, but he got a spell from someone or something else that's let him in. If we don't stop him, he's going to twist Warne's brain and make him go crazy... or worse. I can't let that happen."

Sam looked at the man, then peeked up over the desk to see the gunmen run for cover. Making a split-second decision, Presto ducked low and dashed towards the stairwell. "Go, go, go!" he shouted, and took cover behind the door. "Thanks for the save," he told the man, then looked him over. "How'd you get in here? Is the portal still open on the other side?" There a hanging moment where he considered what he'd just said. "No, that can't be right. The 'other side' would be my dream. What's going on?"

Samuel saw the gunmen, yelped, and took a running leap behind the receptionist's desk in the hopes of using it for cover. "That wasn't talking!" he shouted at Baku. "That was a villainous monologue! You wanted me to join you!" He gripped his wand and prepared a spell. "Hey, guys! Look, this is all some weird misunderstanding. You want the bird, not me! I'm a friend of Agent James Warne! Get him on the radio or something, he'll tell you I'm a good guy!"

Reeling, struggling to make sense of his new surroundings, Presto reached out towards the frantically fluttering Baku and shouted after him. "Baku! Wait! There's still time to do the smart thing!" He glanced around, taking in the interior of the Federal Building's first floor, before he forced himself onto his feet. Something occurred to him, suddenly, but with the force of a hammer-blow. "Baku! Where did you get the spell? Do you even know what you're doing?" He took a stumbling step after the fleeing dream-eater, and then another, and then he ran. "Look, let's just talk about this, okay? We can work something out!"

Presto watched as the hawk flew up, and into, the portal. The magician grit his teeth and gripped his wand before rising, with fluid grace, into the air. "Like hell," he murmured, and followed Baku through the breach.

There was silence for a moment as Presto processed the perilous proposal. Then, almost in opposition to himself, he said something incredible, mind-mindbogglingly stupid. "Baku, don't." An edge of desperation crept into his words, and he hated how they sounded coming from his mouth. Still, he continued. "Warne... Baku, he doesn't deserve that. I'm the one that beat you. I'm the one that burnt you to a crisp. You're beef's with me. Let's settle it here, like men."

Punchline froze in his tracks, standing ramrod stiff on the lawn, and then turned on a pivot to address the illusory Mister Lucas with a puzzled look on his face. "You... actually want to hear a joke?" he asked, incredulity leaking into his voice. His lips widened, showing perfectly pearly teeth, and he glanced over to Leviathan when the brilliant young scientist snorted his derision. "Did you hear that, Green Eggs and Ham? Pops here wants to hear a joke!" He raised one hand to his chin and pondered. "Gee, I can't remember the last time someone asked for a joke. People today are so darn coulrophobic that most of them just avoid me." His lips pulled down in an exaggerated frown, and his softly glowing yellow eyes filled with crocodile tears -- no doubt borrowed from one of Leviathan's DNA-donors. The clown took a few steps towards the group and dove into a brightly-colored cartwheel that carried him around in a circle. He spoke as he passed by each member of their impromptu little party, rattling off joke after joke. To the elder Lucas, he crowed: "Two antennas met on a roof, fell in love, and got married. The ceremony wasn't great, but the reception was terrific!" When he passed Leviathan, he spouted: "I went fishing the other day; I pulled a mussel!" To Monsoon, he quipped: "Where does a king keep his armies? In his sleevies!" When rolling by Bonfire, he shouted: "How do you make holy water? You boil the hell out of it!" He popped out of the cartwheel, with no sign of being out of breath, and faced Edge. "I used to have a job at the calendar factory," he said. "But I got fired for taking too many days off!" The clown took a deep breath and spread his arms wide. Addressing the group as a whole, he said: "Why do chicken coups only have two doors? Because if they had four, they'd be chicken sedans!" He burst into loud, knee-slapping laughter.