Avenger Assembled
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"Hello!" declared Fast-Forward, all smiles. Inside, his mind was working fast - turning over scenarios at lightning speed to figure out how to handle the pretty clear problem of a teenage hero who evidently wasn't out to his parents. "And Merry Christmas! Is Serge Explinker here?" When the boy was pointed out to him, Fast-Forward's smile got a little bigger. "Congratulations, Serge! You won!" He hesitated a barely perceptible second before adding, "What, didn't you tell your mom and dad? Oh, you kids," he laughed. As if taking Greg and Cathy into his confidence, he declared, "Your boy's a great writer. His essay on what science means to him won the Discovery Channel's Christmas Essay Contest! That means he gets a day's run around the world with me, the fastest man alive! What do you think, Mom and Dad, can I borrow your boy for a little while? I know it's Christmas, but trust me, you'll be glad you did."
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"You have to get to..." Fast-Forward fished into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled sheet of yellow legal paper. "18.3442° N, 66.7528° W,:" he rattled off before handing her the sheet. "The Arecibo Observatory in Puerto Rico. That's where the psychics are gathering to fight the Communion, and that's where they'll need us when the fight happens. As for me, I need to get to..." He checked another note. "Parkside. See you in Puerto Rico, ASAP!" And with that, and a blur of speed too fast even for the ultra-fast Triakosia to follow, he was gone across the city in less time that it took the leaves disturbed in his passage to fall to the ground. In Parkside, Fast-Forward was inside the apartment complex where the Linebergs lived before he came to a realization. Damn! If he's not out to his parents, how am I gonna talk to him? It didn't take him long to find a loose wreath, or rather a wreath from an apartment a few floors down. When he had that in hand, he hammered on the Lineberg door again and declared, "Hello! Linebergs! Merry Christmas!" He hammered again, with a fast rat-a-tat-tat.
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"It doesn't just assimilate. It kills worlds. Billions of people died in less than half an hour on Lor-Van. We can't take any chances - and there's no time to wait." He led the way outside, his bulky metal body just fitting through the metal exit doors that led them out to the parking lot outside the expo, the cool desert night surrounding them on all sides. It certainly didn't look like they were being invaded by aliens - but then it usually didn't. "Let's go." His robotic body turned out to contain several built-in handholds and footrests for carrying human passengers. "Hang on," he warned Terrifica and Maxima, "this is the first time I've actually used these systems." And with that cheerful warning, he took off into the desert night, the compressed air of his bootjets roaring as they rushed off across the desert towards the Empty Quarter.
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December 25th Continued from >Mind Over Matter Fast-Forward was back on the streets of Freedom City so fast he barely had time to grab a candy cane from a department store giveaway as he made his way to his first destination. It was evening New Jersey time when he appeared at Dancia Devons' front door in Lincoln, where his super-speed knock sounded like a machine gun's rat-a-tat before he slowed himself back down (and sped everything else up) until once again he was in sync with the normal world. Knocking firmly, he called, "Dancia Devons! Dancia Devons!" When she opened the door, the Discovery Channel personality on Dancia's doorstep said without preamble, "Scarab needs you to save the world from robot psychics from space." He glanced around quickly to make sure no one was in the hallway; luckily her neighbors were all still enjoying their Christmas. "How quickly can you get to Puerto Rico?"
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It's 1500 miles from Freedom City to Puerto Rico. Fast-Forward and Hologram covered the distance in six minutes. In another minute, they were standing on the observation deck of the radio telescope - Richard not willing to put his wife (who did not fly, at all) on the rickety-looking steering mechanism which Scarab was flying over. Paige could feel where Richard's mind was; back in that hospital room with Holly, and with Will's team at Claremont, but after a moment's hesitation the speedster made himself live in the moment. <Thank you,> thought the Scarab to them, <but there is one more service I need of you...> A set of images popped into their minds; Fast-Forward's in particular. "All right, I guess I'll go get the cavalry," said Richard with a nod, understanding the veteran hero's signal at lighting speed. "Be right back!" he called to the others before he disappeared. It was 1500 miles back to Freedom City - this time, running with thoughts of his daughter, his wife, and his son in his mind, Fast-Forward made it back to Freedom City in _three_ minutes. Keep me posted on the action, babe! he thought to Hologram along the way.
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The big robot stared up at the ceiling, metal face nearly impassive, before it looked back at the others. "I can't reach the Moon or the Lighthouse," said Citizen disconsolately. "They must be right here in Earth's atmosphere..." Sharl didn't know these people personally, though he'd heard about some of them through reputation. "It's the Communion. They're a race of cybernetic monsters that have been rampaging across the quadrant for months - they've already wiped out at least...at least one whole planet already." But this can't be the same thing, or we'd have heard about a battle in space! He opened and closed his big clunky hands a few times, mastering himself, before he said, "We need to get out to that bombing site right away. I saw them drop weapons on Lor-Van that they used to hijack the planet's defense systems. I don't know what's out here," he admitted, "but there must be something they want."
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Underlying everyone's mood was the Communion - everyone knew the cybernetic threat from the depths of space was bearing down on Earth, but with the spacefaring members of the Freedom League off-planet, there hadn't been much the Earthbound defenders of the planet could do except pray to whatever gods seemed important that holiday season. When Trevor's alarm rang, tied as it was into the Manor's upgraded computer systems, it was a disappointment - but not really a surprise. Thanks to the Manor's integrated technological systems, they didn't even need to head downstairs to see what was going on. With the push of a few buttons, what looked like a high-end plasma screen TV along one wall (and actually _was_ a high-end plasma screen TV, as Mark had found out a couple of years ago during a Freedom Friends marathon) displayed the situation. Midnight kept a close eye on the world at all times, but there were particular places where the black gaze of Freedom's nocturnal defender focused especially closely. One of those places was Seattle, Washington - a city that had gone to war this Christmas! On the campus of South Seattle College (luckily a school with almost no residents, especially during the holidays), a minor earthquake had caused pandemonium when a gigantic metal obelisk had erupted from the ground, rising nearly fifty feet in the air. The partially-crumpled, rust-colored shape looked to be in bad shape; as the TV cameras zoomed in, one section of it appeared to fall away, disgorging a scuttling crowd of mechanical figures - and then the message from Seattle, and indeed all electronic traffic from the city, suddenly went dark. "Oh, man!" said Mark, his eyes wide. "Maybe it's the Sub-Terrans, or something?" It was nice to hope that it was something that minor. He looked around at the others. "The Emerald City team is volunteering for UNISON in Bosnia right now, they'll never get back to the city on time."
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The Atomcraft skidded wildly in the air for a moment, then was suddenly headed downwards - and fast! It wasn't an out of control descent yet, but it looked like Tesla was trying to set herself down almost immediately. Behind the wheel of the capture plane overhead, Foreshadow was faced with a tough choice of his own, the prison plane belowdecks almost certainly wasn't going to hold together till they made it to the airport. He had to get these planes on the ground, ASAP, trusting that the clamps down below would hold up his own plane's weight once they were on the ground. He could try for a smooth landing in one of those farmer's fields below, following in Tesla's footsteps, or shoot for one of the many straight stretches of highway he could see below. The former would get them out of the sky the fastest, but would certainly be more demanding on him as a pilot. In the sky, Stronghold and Ember Psion kept pace with the flying planes; though after a moment the latter began a direct pursuit of the descending Atoms.
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Nina frowned. "I doubt they'll give the time of day to an Arab girl like me, especially after I showed them who the real master race is. They'll be more likely to attack me on sight, not that it would do them any more good." She snapped her fingers. "But they'll talk to you, Cannonade! You have the look of one of their number, minus the dull, stupid eyes, so you could blend into their ranks if you adopted a suitable disguise. And meanwhile Monsoon could stage some public events, some great shows of Arab pride or anti-Nazi sentiment, to draw them out!" She smiled, looking very pleased with herself. "If there's already an Arab provocateur about, no more innocents are threatened with mind-control!"
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December 25, 2014 Freedom City Midnight Manor Late in the evening on Christmas Day, a Deep One sang an eerie song in the Midnight Manor, her body silhouetted by the darkness outside. "BUT I GET UP AGAIN! YOU'RE NEVER GONNA KEEP ME DOWN! WOO!" As her song finished and the strains of Tubthumping vanished into the quiet of what was sometimes one of many front parlors in the Hunter mansion, Aquaria leaped in the air and cheered, her smooth, wet skin glistening from the exertion of the vigorous karoake number. "I am awesome!" For their part, Mark and Nina both cheered and applauded - Mark hadn't been at all sure bringing the machine along was the right idea, but luckily Jessie's amphibian friend had practically snatched the karaoke machine up with her tongue and practically begged to go first. (Jessie had, blushingly, commented that Aquaria used to do this a lot before disappearing herself) Aquaria first approached Mark and Nina, since they had been the latest to the party - only arriving after Martha Lucas had turned in early and left her son and his girlfriend free for Christmas. "You guys want a turn? C'mon, don't be chicken!" Between Nina's competitive streak and Mark's natural showmanship, it wasn't long before the couple was standing in front of the computerized board, picking out their song - 500 Miles seeming to be an early favorite. Aquaria bounded over to join Erin and Trevor to watch the show, declaring, "Surface music is great, you can yell so loud when you're singing! And nobody complains!"
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The OOC
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Here is the OOC thread.
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December 25, 2014 South Pole Basin Lunar Farside It is not true that Farsiders never leave their city, merely that such events are rare and usually for a purpose. The construction of the South Pole station by Farsiders had been one such purposeful occasion, one launched over a Terran century ago by a Farsider monarch concerned about a recent Terran visit to the Moon. (Some Terran visitors to Farside City have pointed out that the Apollo missions took place over six decades later, but the Farsiders have the records of earlier 'interlopers' to show skeptical visitors of today.) With its neutrino detectors and concealed telescopes, the South Pole station is well-placed to directly monitor doings on Earth. Or for that matter, as Lady Lunar proved in the early 1980s, to strike at it. A collection of intellects vast and furious on Earth had realized the station's potential not long after the Communion crisis began - concealed as the station was, it was the perfect place to strike at an enemy in Earth orbit by surprise. What had been a location for observation could become a location for misdirection; a notion that appealed to the ruling government of Farside City, which liked the idea of saving the world they orbit without their true role ever being known. (Farsiders do love their secrets!) And so, for much of the last two months, the greatest minds of Earth have come to its only natural satellite with a singular purpose. To build a machine to protect the planet from the Communion! Steve Murdock had offered what advice he could during its construction, but his experience with dimensional technology was all practical. It had come down to Dragonfly's specific genius and Miss Americana's vast storehouse of general knowledge to put the great work into practice. Caradoc, and the other non-scientists in the party of heroes guarding the weapon (as Steve was not allowed to call it around his employer) had rapidly found another role in the small lunar colony. Lunar soil ashy beneath his feet, Caradoc raised his gleaming blade to the sky, the shining tip above the heads even of the tallest Farsiders in their environmental suits. A new group of Farsider militiamen had been deployed that week - and their usual trainers were busy with an Earth-Prime holiday, an important one, but one that he could miss while Gina Evans was safely ensconced in the tiny pre-fab quarters that she had occupied for the last month. There would be time enough for celebration when the work was done. He spoke over the radio. "Your enemy will target your environmental suits first! They are not pirates, or conquerors, or enslavers. Your dead flesh will feed their ever-growing armies." He lowered his blade as the group shifted uneasily, and for a moment there was dead silence on the lunar plain besides the domed Farsider military base even on the radio frequencies they used to speak with each other outside the dome.
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Comrade Frost had been on and off the satellite frequently in the last two months, paying repeated visions to Russia where the People's Heroes were in the process of preparing their own countermeasures against the Communion. The last few weeks had left Frost particularly unsettled, and the icy vampire often found himself at a bay window staring up at the stars. A man of Earth, tied to the ancient gods of that planet, he'd never felt particularly comfortable in space - especially not with a spaceborne menace closing in to doom them all. But when the League needed him, he was there - sitting in the command center with a headset on as the reports of the battle in Pluto orbit raged on, providing on-the-spot commentary in quiet Russian to his people below. They needed to know what was happening. Everyone did.
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All right - an eighteen will buy you a rough airstrip landing or a relatively smooth highway landing. Do as you like!
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All right, gonna have to cut this just a little short - HGM, give me one more Pilot check
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Comrade Frost's first instinct was to kill the Queen - it was his second instinct as well. Unlike the others he had seen the results of an attempted Anopheles invasion in their own world. The Soviet Union never had been able to close the gate left open in its territory, and only the detonation of multiple nuclear warheads (and the collapse of the surrounding mountains) had been sufficient to close the gate. But when the others hesitated, he found wisdom in their words. "Stay behind us," he muttered to the white-faced and shaking Daniels. "We will protect you." He didn't bother speaking to the Queen, though, instead he slowly circled the perimeter, keeping a watchful eye on everything as the insects spoke. Liquid - good. They'll freeze hard and fast. "There were people like you on this world once," gargled the Queen with a glutinous chuckle. "But we dealt with them. First the investigators, then the ones who thought being better than the hive meant they were untouchable. Don't be stupid." The great creature seemed to writhe, flesh pulsating unnaturally beneath its great bulk. "We'll be happy to cut your little homeworld out of the project if you get off our territory. "We already opened the door. No way you're closing it again."
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Nina was silent during the discussion of Dutch politics, fighting the embarrassing urge to call her boyfriend and the profoundly unsettling desire to call her father. I am my own woman. I can solve my own problems as I like. "Well, then, let us snatch her up to one of your flying fortresses and interrogate her!" she said in a staccato voice, drawing on what she'd heard about AEGIS. "A public confession will sway even the most cowlike of her followers, and then even what passes for the local authorities can break up the gatherings of those bigoted hooligans." She caught the look in the eye of the Americans and went on; "What? A high-profile counter-move will show we are not cowed by the doings of terrorists."
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ic Incursion: Meaning in Destruction
Avenger Assembled replied to Avenger Assembled's topic in Unknown Space
"They read six ships in a modified V formation, probably to avoid EM drag from the magentar," said Solar Sentinel in a precise, almost military voice. "No sign of the Planet-Killer," he commented, a little suspiciously. "But that's still more than enough to take out these old-" It sounded like he was having an argument on the other end before he went on. "Three of the Hunger ships are retreating to the magentar's corona. Captain Hunger says she won't leave till her pups are brought back from the suidae surface, and that is a direct quote," he added. "I estimate we've got twenty, twenty-five minutes before they're in standard orbit." They fired the EM beam down below and opened up another wormhole - and once again were confronted with the sight of a planet, though this was not one any of them immediately recognized. The ships in orbits weren't familiar either, and they were just about to move on to their last rendezvous point with Lelak (back at the original meeting site) when their radios crackled to life from a signal coming through the newly opened wormhole. "In the name of the Grue Unity, surrender now or be destroyed by Dyson laser fire!" -
"I think we can make it look real," said Sharl with a wink to Eliza. Hand-in-hand, he followed her inside the compound, wondering what Gina or his friends from Claremont would think if they saw him on television. TV as me, and not as Citizen! That experience also helped him relax at the thought of appearing on cameras, even in a corner for a few moments. At least he knew his holoprojector would hold up well enough on Terran television, something that would not have been the case if they'd had access to Lor-level tri-v! Primitive technology saves the day again, whew. "Bet your mom and dad will be surprised," he commented to Eliza. To the guard, he added, "Hey, is that an Archetech Sprecher? Nice choice."
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"Ah, jeez!" said Fast-Forward sympathetically, quickly diverted by the new arrival and her obvious trauma. Geez, it's like '88 all over again, he thought Paige's way before he zipped back into the conversation at super-speed. "Hey, listen, kid, we're from another dimension. I'm Fast-Forward, this is Hologram, Temperance, Asad, and...." He fell silent for a moment as he took in the Grue, then went on, "Aaaand Lady Grue?" he hazarded. Ooookay, well, I've met Grue who were technically good guys - I guess I can't really put on airs about bad blood. Before Miss Grue had a chance to correct him, he went on. "We're new here. I am so sorry about what happened. We're here to help you with your problem. What happened here, honey?" he asked, procuring a handkerchief so the kid could at least wipe her eyes.
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The sentient AI had been one of the primary attractions of the tech show - the electronic superhero Citizen now wearing an armored humanoid frame designed and built by the German-American hypertech firm Archetech. Looking more like Baymax than Galatea, the bulky-framed robot had been left to run the booth with his mentor (and widely-rumored programmer) away helping the Earth with the current interstellar crisis. For his part, Sharl was in an ill humor. He had badly wanted to go on the space mission with Miss Americana and nearly been exiled to Freedom City with the Claremont students before he and Gina had reached an understanding - being down here when the Communion was up there was gnawing at him in a deep, profound ache. But he'd done his duty as best he could, and from all he'd overhead from listening into the wireless in the building, the "Fat Robot" was a big hit. (He still wasn't sure why Gina had called the frame he was currently inhabiting that, since of course as a robot it had no body fat, but as smart as his mentor was, sometimes her logic escaped him) Besides, it would be stupid to fight with Gina after she'd made him this body! (or repurposed an old Miss Americana unit for him, albeit one she'd been reluctant to admit even existed). He'd tested "Mecha-Citizen" (as Koshiro might have called it) around Freedom City and found it a joyful experience; it wasn't the same as being real the way he was in Tronik, but it was satisfying to get a tactile response that wasn't dependent on lights and magnetism, to be solid without constantly having to concentrate (even just a little) on maintaining a body that wasn't even real. I should pick Gina up something while I'm here. There's got to be something touristy around here that she doesn't have in that house... All thoughts of that left him, though, when he picked up the rapidly-transmitted signals in and around the building - a payload launched from space, a falling projectile that had struck the ground nearby, and an energy signature he recognized with sudden, heart-wrenching clarity. Because he'd seen it before, on the dash sensors of a Lor aircar, as it desperately raced towards the Vox above the streets of murdered Lor-Van. "They're here!" The giant robot burst to its feet and actually leaped out of the booth, sailing over the heads of convention-goers. Careful, don't dent the floor - good thing you've got wide feet...He almost yelled it again, but the superhero overruled the survivor; there was no sense causing a panic. Instead, turning around, his head over the crowd, he sought out the leader of the section - the only other superhero he'd recognized while he was there. And so it was that, just a second or two after his aide spoke with him, a robot taller and broader than a man ran up behind Asad. "We're being attacked by aliens." the robot intoned in a deep, gravelly voice without bothering to introduce himself, the wireless symbol glowing a bright blue on his rounded steel chest. "Do you know of any other superheroes at the conference?"
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http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4744131/= 25 All right, that is enough to break the psychic connection and get him out of Tesla's head.
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ic Incursion: Meaning in Destruction
Avenger Assembled replied to Avenger Assembled's topic in Unknown Space
The final relay proved to be something of a mystery, as far as they could determine. The relay itself was standard enough - despite the differences in its gross physical structure, what little they could see of the completely solid sphere's interior on their scanners looked much like the unit they'd seen before. This would most likely open up another pocket wormhole, one tuned to a frequency where it would link up with the earlier opening and eventually transport the entire planet to Lelak's destination. What else this place might have been was impossible to tell - at least until they stopped looking at the relay but instead looked straight down. There were tunnels visible beneath the glassed-over lake, dark wormlines with half-visible residue inside them. There had been rockets here too, once, but their occupants were long gone. "Oh, Jesus Mary and Joseph," came a voice suddenly over their radio, relayed from the Kavaca. "Praetorians, this is Solar Sentinel. The Hunger Squadron has picked up Communion ship entering the nebula! We're running out of time!" -
The room on the other side of the door was a nightmare made solid. A long, low-ceilinged room of walls that dripped a foul greenish-black slime with a scent of rotting flesh and worse. Dried blood painted the carpeted floor in strange ritual symbols; the very symbols of the Anopheles! Webs in the corners hold the dessicated bodies of executives who once worked here. There are smells of blood and vinegar and various human wastes. Along the walls scuttle former human beings, now distorted into a hunched mosquito shape - hybrids like the secretary who fled earlier, and in fact she, it, can be seen among them now! There were perhaps twenty of them, but they seemed to have no stomach for a fight. Instead, they retreated, cowering behind their Queen - in this small space, at least, their God. The Anopheles Queen is huge, bloated, pale and doughy, like a tremendous mound of flesh. Two stubby arms and two atrophied legs protruded and above the repellent body, something like a small human infant's head, bald and drooling, held itself up with visible effort. And it looked as surprised to see them as they were to see it! The Queen, with a repellent liquid sound, laid a huge quantity of eggs at the sight of the assembled heroes. They collected in neglected, viscous brown-yellow drifts, gradually slopping over and oozing down the open shaft in the back of the room. As if mastering itself, the Queen spoke in a voice that was a parody of human - and of the executive it might once have been. "Did the boys get your carpet muddy? Our bad! Tell you what, bring your giant bees in here and we can talk about a deal!"