ic Interceptors: Eden [IC]

[Gizmo]

"Woah, haha!" the woman in white crowed as the older man went down. "Now it's a party! Don't go anywhere, lima bean," she told Geckoman as she launched easily into a backflip toward the new arrival, "I'll save you the last dance!" Her confidence proved to be larger than her ability, however, as a whirling tornado of steel scimitar was directed aside by a deft parry of Erik's borrowed rapier.

The Dakanan was close behind her recovering quickly from the loss of his sword with a feinting approach. "Even with the mantle disabled, you are indeed impressive, cousin!" he lauded the West End native. "Like you, however, I have more than one card to play!" A flurry of kicks and punches aimed for the side exposed by his allies attack proved him to be an able hand-to-hand fighter as well, forcing Erik to switch up his stance once again to avoid them.

Finally, the claymore wielder simply grunted in a manner which suggested her low opinion of all the banter and lashed out with her oversized weapon, moving the heavy metal with seemingly impossible speed and accuracy. In its wake it left ripped fabric and a long, red line across exposed sienna skin.

With a grunt of his own, Erik slipped back a step, rolling his jaw. He was confident he could beat any one of his well-removed relatives on their own, but three-on-one it was only a matter of time before they wore him down. The longer he kept their attention, however, the more time Chris and Mona had to recover and turn the tide. With his empty hand he finished tearing his shirt in half and tossed the ruined clothing to the street. The wicked looking cut he'd just received joined a criss-cross of scars, most thin and nearly faded, others round and still puckered. Whipping his sword around with a flick of his wrist, he smirked silently at his attackers and beckoned them to try again.

[Fox]

Mara paced out to the sword, carefully picking it up with the hand that held the lighter before anyone else could try to claim it for themselves. "Am not putting a daka crystal this size anywhere near an infant," she called out, and then took a moment to snort at Jack's newfound shirtlessness.

"Wonder if he'll want to keep it," she pondered, to herself and her singed, defeated opponents. But mostly to herself. "Suppose he has first dibs. Still - good-size sample. Hard to come by. Could do a lot with it, after breaking it up into smaller pieces."

[Gizmo]

While the tornado of flashing steel and acrobatic grace was enough to keep anyone's attention, had they been looking down the street, they would have seen the source of the ominous red glow suddenly grow closer followed by the reverberating sound of something landing heavily on the street. The light lurched again, coming close enough now to be recognized as mountain of a man making prodigious leaps toward the battle with a loudly protesting woman slung over his shoulder. Setting her down four or five dozen feet away from the action, he straightened to his full height, towering over anyone save Mona. His squared jaw was bare but a voluminous blond moustache occupied his upper lip and curved around to blend into wild mutton chops.

"What are you thinking, you -- you -- !" the woman attempted, angrily brushing off deep blue robes with one hand while she maintained an arcane gesture with the other, the source of the crimson glow. It was difficult to tell under the concealing outfit, but she seemed less physically imposing than the various swordsmen though a strong nose and severe features suggested Socotran or neighbouring heritage. The light she was giving off rippled slightly as it spread outward, subtly implying invisible protections.

Her far larger companion grinned broadly - it seemed likely that he did everything broadly - as he retrieved a weapon from his back. While the red haired tactician's claymore was impressively large, this two handed monstrosity was clearly too big for most people to lift let alone wield effectively. "Hah, missed enough of the battle already!" he decided in an indeterminate Eastern European accent. "Now, witch, we fight!"

With an expression the mixed certainty that he had to be joking with a growing dread that he wasn't, the practitioner began to retort, "That is not what I -- !" but he was already charging into the melee with a roar.

[Ecalsneerg]

Geckoman took advantage of everyone's momentary fixation of Jack of all Blades to take a step to the side and massage his multiple stab wounds. They were healing even as he panted, but still... they hurt.

"Oh. Dear. LORD!" he suddenly burst out, storming forward a couple of steps. He pointed at the crazy swordswoman chick. "You, really need to stop with the inappropriate come-ons. This is a fight, not a dive bar. And right in front of your..."

He looked around left and right, then finally laid his eyes upon the prostrate leader. "Ah, there's your uncle. totes unconscious. Nice work, Fearless Leader." He nodded to Jack. Then a frown crossed his features.

"But you're not helping! Ripping the shirt off? Amid a fight full of swords! Being thrust into flesh! While people talk in French! Do you know the impression that gives!? There is a child on the way, and this is just grossly inappropriate!" He shrugged his shoulders. "It just makes me want to..."

Suddenly he pivoted and slammed his staff in an overhead, double-handed sweep, swiping down around to crash into the madwoman's torso. "Distract you enough to hit you really hard."

[Gizmo]

Geckoman's attack caught the white leather wearing swordswoman solidly in the ribs, doubling her over with a surprised grunt and a muffled but telltale crunch. Erik maneuvered about to focus on the other two attackers facing him, trying to split up their forces as much as possible. "Hey, don't hate," he called back to the bright green acrobat, matching the House of Swords' idle banter with their own. "Gotta have a little somethin'-somethin' for the ladies, too. Big-n-Tall here knows what I'm talking about."

The imposing red haired woman growled under her breath at the fencer's bawdy wink, taking another reckless slash at him with her claymore. Side-stepping the attack, Erik rushed in to capitalize on her off-balance stance, forcing her sword to one side with his own and following up with a brutal kick to the abdomen.

The disarmed Dakanan was immediately in his way, stepping between the two combatants. "I consider myself an enlightened fellow," he noted with a trio of feinting attacks meant only to buy time and keep the Jack of all Blades occupied, "but focusing solely on the women present seems unbecoming behaviour."

"Says that would-be kidnapper?" Erik balked, matching the show of agility with quick footwork of his own.

The bald man gave him a familiarly lopsided grin full of gleaming white teeth. "Well, what is love but a double standard, yes?" Abruptly he ducked down and to one side, allowing the partially recovered highlander to surge through with another near miss. Clearly the pair were well versed in tandem fighting.

Meanwhile, the fighter Chris had attacked straightened, gripped her sides with both hands and twisted violently. With another audible snap, her bones evidently reset themselves and she turned her attention back to Geckoman none the worse for wear. "Should have listened to my mother," she told the google-wearing hero with a smirk. "'Regenerators' will only break your heart,' she told me, 'just like your Da.'"

[Dariusprime]

Having that damnable sword even a few more feet from her felt like bliss. Yes, the painful tingle at the edge of her perception still bothered her, but she wasn't being stabbed with the life-draining abomination. For that matter, she wasn't being stabbed at all...

Which really didn't matter much as she dropped down on one knee. "Ow...," was all she managed to squeak out.

She surveyed the battlefield just in case someone tried for a backstab. Looked like Erik and Mara were in the fight, and the swordsman had personally taken care of the Daka blade. She'd have to thank him later if they survived. Although she hoped their mutual inventor friend didn't take the sword inside. Unfortunately, the big brute and his charge were entering the fray. She sighed and considered her options as her head cleared. Obviously, fighting this guy head on right now was suicide. Perhaps if she channeled her powers...no, the worst injuries were all Daka inflicted and would take days or weeks to properly heal. Maybe if she could just rest a moment.

That's when she realized that the ethereal shimmer of red that the Daka sword had been absorbing was now wafting like steam from her. Less than normal, she noted, probably from the injuries, but in dangerously high quantities. Damn! She'd forgotten about the whole radiation problem during the stabbed-by-Daka incident. She hoped vehemently that no one, yes, including the House of Swords footsoldiers, had been exposed to much of her toxic radiation. Let alone her friends or the new baby. Now though her emission rate would spike as she 'caught her breath', and the longer the dampers were down.

She needed out of the fight to gauge her injuries and isolate herself. Well, if nothing else, do what you're good at. With a grunt, she flashed up into the night sky and disappeared. There she hovered in the night air, clutching her chest and trying to fight down the pain.

As for the Daka sword? The last wisps absorbed vanished into the sword as it left its owners hand. The crystal, whatever the original color, pulsed slowly and hummed with potential energy. Every once in a while a little arch of energy popped across the surface of the blade. What a great capacitor, Daka.

[Gizmo]

Still sputtering in barely contained outrage and disbelief, the mystic in the blue robes nevertheless bent her knees slightly, dropping into a ready stance and raising the hand not occupied with maintaining the spell dampening the electromagnetic field in the area. Making an arcane gesture and muttering something under her breath that was either an incantation or detailing what she'd have liked to do to her supposed bodyguard, she loosed crackling crimson bolts toward Erik and Chris. At first they seemed to hit pavement about the heroes' feet harmlessly, but a beat later the street cracked open, pelting them with chunks of roadway as something ruptured underground. The remaining members of the House of Swords seemed as surprised by the attack as the Interceptors but quickly moved to capitalize on it.

[Fox]

Mara took the energized sword with her as she took a few steps back, not wanting to be anywhere near the exploding road or armed villains, and not awfully keen on leaving the door unprotected for long. She had a sharp eye on the fight as it went, though, and an especially sharp eye on the mystic. would explain a lot - suppose it could be something else - protections? - wish I knew more about magic - stupid magic "Could take out the one in the robe," she rather unhelpfully supplied, sticking the sword tip-first into the ground and not letting go of the handle. "Might help. Not sure."

[Gizmo]

The roaring mustachioed warrior crossed the space between his landing point and the fight quickly, missing only a beat as his intended target flew well out of reach. Recovering his momentum, he swung his oversized weapon with shocking speed. Still unbalanced from the magical assault, Erik dropped to the ground and rolled under the veritable guillotine of tempered steel.

"Alright, that's enough of that," he muttered, springing back up and dodging around a burst of searing vapour from an exposed gas line as he launched into jump that ended with one foot pinning the red haired woman's claymore to the street and the other boot connecting solidly with her jaw. He silenced her partner's outraged cry with a follow-up slash of his rapier that sliced across the disarmed Dakanan's upper sword arm. The former hit the ground hard, the latter stumbled back a step to regroup. "Consider my hospitality for visiting relatives run out," he practically snarled at the remaining opponents. "Take them down hard, people."

[Gizmo]

"I don't even have the heart to make a 'take me down' joke," the English swordswoman snorted as she renewed her attack on Geckoman, taking advantage of the numerous distractions to tag him solidly with her scimitar. "Just too easy."

With his partner's sound defeat, the disarmed bald man's amused expression had vanished. "I believe we may have underestimated you, cousin," he noted coldly as he kept Erik busy with a smooth series of punches. The fencer had little trouble staying ahead on the assault but it was clear the House of Swords was not about to surrender quietly. "We are, however, in agreement. Kristof, let us end this quickly."

[Dariusprime]

Now away from the conflict, Fulcrum took a moment to center herself and push away the delightful combination of stabbing, no pun intended, pain and numbing ache from the Daka. This fight certainly was the most painful she remembered since...well...

Shaking her head, she winched and delicately probed the wound on her forehead. Her head still rang from that blow, but she was still glad she took the hit. Most anyone else on the crew would have lost the top half of a head. Geckoman may have survived it, but that was a chance she didn't want to take. The snarky-but-endearing young man had grown on her over the months and was a wonderful foil for Erik.

Speaking of Gecks and Jack, she glanced down at the fight below. With the cool winds and moon overhead, the fight seemed ages ago and far away. But of course all hell was still breaking loose. If only she could fully clear her head. Blinking one eye and then the next, she realized her vision was still out of alignment, especially at this range.

just think of it as boxing, her subconscious prodded her.

Yes, just between rounds. Breathing deeply, she willed her battered body to hold knit back together. Wasn't nearly as fast due to that Daka-damned weapon, but she'd get there eventually. Her friends needed her! The guilt of bowing out in the middle gnawed at her enough. Come on...

[Gizmo]

"Pheh, typical," the frustrated woman in the blue robes muttered to herself as she make another series of flicking gestures and gathered arcane forces. "Never send a child with a toy to do a real mage's job." Thrusting a palm outward, she sent a torrent of pale violet light coursing toward the Jack of Swords, howling moans streaming from the sickly light as it slithered through the air like a living thing. Whatever dread forces guided it weren't up to the acrobatic swashbuckler's standards, however, and Erik spun about, bending backward to let the blast streak by to the practitioner's continued exasperation. "Why won't any of you pointy idiots stand still?!"

[Fox]

Mara was unarmored, largely defenseless, and utterly, completely fed up with standing around while other people fought; she made a snorting noise and a silent apology to Ellie if she managed to get herself killed, and took off running for the robed women who was using her off-hand for...something. She didn't know what, but she had hopes, and whatever it was it couldnt' be good....

"Easy," she offered, skidding to a halt next to the woman and letting her momentum carry into a swing of the daka sword, "give someone pointed objects and they stop listening to common sense. True fact."

[Gizmo]

The magic user hastily turned her attention to the charging inventor and indeed Mara's appropriated weapon was momentarily slowed by invisible shields of mystical force. The sharpened daka crustal shredded through those defenses as it had through everything else, however, before connecting solidly with the practitioner herself, ripping apart one of the folds of her robe. She stumbled back with a shout of pain, not out of the fight but too distracted to maintain the spell occupying one of her hands.

Mara was the first to feel the effects of her attack as the ominous crimson glow winked out. In a palpable wave that rippled out from the House of Staves mage power returned to the West End, street lamps flickering to life and the technopath's mind filling again with the background noise of the technology around them. Inside the house, the lights came back on and a voice called from the laptop in the kitchen, "--build up in the yow my achin' simulated head!"

[Fox]

The sword-wielding inventor gave a sharp intake of breath as there was noise again - she could feel them, every piece of electronic equipment in her radius coming back as its power was restored. More importantly, she could feel HER equipment coming back, the 'voice' of the choker around her neck as her datalink to it was restored.

She hadn't even hoped she'd be that right. Little lights danced behind her eyes and a wave of twisted space washing over her and leaving behind smooth grey metal that hummed and lit up as soon as it was fully-formed.

[bg=#555555]"Think common sense might be overrated,"[/bg] she noted to no one in particular as the eyes in her mask flared blue. The sword, still in one hand, seemed to twist in on itself until it vanished completely - banished to a little folded piece of who-knows-where.

[Gizmo]

"Ah," the Dakanan murmured as the spell collapsed upon itself and Dragonfly summoned her armor. "That does not bode particularly well."

The mountain of a man with the exotic facial hair answered with a booming laugh. "Ha! No, is perfect! Now we fight for real!" Whirling his massive blade in a broad arc that only narrowly missed interfering with the duel between Geckoman and the white jacketed woman, he pressed his assault against Erik, filling the space where the fencer had just been with a curtain of steel. Still, the nimble hero was able to keep a step ahead of the attacks as the synesthesia of his metamagi senses surged back into his awareness.

[Ecalsneerg]

Geckoman wobbled slightly as he stood. He'd healed fast from all the repeated blow, but he didn't have limitless energy. And his opponent seemed to be able to heal just as fast, if not more so, than he did.

And she was rushing him with a scimitar. But effortlessly, with a practiced sweep and nerves formed of a thousand ultimately rapidly healed injuries, he slapped the blade aside with his palm. "Yeah... no."

Glancing at Dragonfly as she suited up, he made the incredibly difficult deduction that the power was back on. And with a quick twirling motion, he ignited the sparking tip of his staff, collapsed it to compact size, and rammed it back into its slot on his belt. And...

Melted into the background. "So..." came his displaced voice from the air. He could be vaguely discerned from a heat haze like shimmer in the air, but no more than that. "Shall we dance, darling? And just for turnabout, how about you try this one without your toys?"

And the heat shimmer reached out and dived for the woman's sword.

[Gizmo]

The recession of the dampening spell was like having a burlap sack pulled from his head for Erik. A wave of returning sensation washed over him, the buzzing taste and white hot scent of crackling electricity all around him, the clacking sound of dice radiating from the distracted magic user, trickles of nauseous blacklight wafting down from Fulcrum's withdrawn position. Inhaling deeply through his nose, the metamagi grinned dangerously at his opponents before tossing his borrowed rapier over his shoulder to land quivering with its point in the lawn. "Flygirl, remind me to buy you an ice cream after we take out the trash," the fencer laughed cockily as he produced a simple metal lighter from his pocket and drew a line of flame in the air with a flick of his wrist. The fire solidified into a roiling blade and handguard wrapped around the fingers of his opposite hand. "Game on, rejects!"

The Jack of Swords' assault was furious and devastating. Launching himself at the imposing zweihänder wielder, he smoothly transferred the momentum of the rush to an upward slash. The faint resistance he felt suggested the blond man was something appreciably more than simply human but the mystically bound fire sizzled through his defenses with ease. While the flame left the smell of burned chest hair rather than charred flesh in its wake, the line of wicked bruising made it clear that the damage inflicted was very real even if the hero was sparing his target the worst of the permanent trauma of which he was capable. The mustachioed fighter let out a roar of pain and attempted to bring his heavy blade around to parry the the follow-up strike but he was simply too slow. With a final grunt, he toppled backward toward Geckoman and the white leather clad woman.

While she managed to maintain her grip on her scimitar, stepping aside to avoid the avalanche of her defeated comrade left her open for a decisive thrust that left a smouldering hole in her jacket just to one side of her collarbone and another on her shoulderblade. Finally dropping her weapon to grab at the surprisingly whole flesh between the entry and exit points, she stumbled down to one knee. "Rude...!" she accused in a strained voice before falling atop the growing pile of downed swordsmen.

[Gizmo]

The faintly twisting expression on the Dakanan's face as he abruptly went from outnumbering to outnumbered suggested a herculean effort to maintain his easy composure. To his credit, he allowed himself nothing more than a muttered, "Well. The tide seems to have turned." Making a quick snap kick just to keep Erik honest, he began backing away carefully in the direction of the Socotran woman, eyes darting about for some sign of Geckoman. "If you have any last aces to play, my friend, now would be the time I think," he called to her, his voice tight despite his casual words.

[Dariusprime]

The faint hum and charging of capacitors perked up Fulcrum's ears. "What?" she mumbled, flipping open the wrist dampener's control panel with painful slowness. A tightening sensation crossed her chest, at once familiar and vaguely constricting.

--Dangerous levels of Terminus radiation detected.--

--Capacitors charging: 65%--

--Estimate time to engagement: 6.4 seconds.--

As the time counted down, Fulcrum smile wearily and clinched a fist, "Yes!" she cried.

Immediately followed by a grimace. Looking down over the now lit battleground, she nodded and took several deep breaths.

Time for round two.

[Fox]

Now that she had a moment to breathe - and wasn't a terribly squishy human nearly toe-to-toe with superhuman fencers - Dragonfly took quick stock before turning her grim face plate back on the mage. Nearly everybody seemed to benefit from having power back in one form or another, and she wasn't awfully inclined to be stuck in a powered-down suit of metal plates....

She deployed her wings, the four immaterial, blade-like constructs pulling her back to a safeer distance; even as she moved, though, twisted space wrapped around an outstretched arm to fly toward the mage, lest she feel abandoned. If she could just keep the caster off her toes so that she didn't bring that spell back up....!

[Gizmo]

The twisting ripple in the fabric of space lanced toward the robed woman, an audible shattering sound accompanying a tremor in the air as her invisible shield was torn asunder. With a shriek, she was flung backward, lifting off of the ground briefly before tumbling for a few feet more along the street. She struggled to lift herself into an upright position, awake but clearly having had the fight knocked out of her by the backlash of expended forces.

The disarmed Dakanan swordsman glanced at the groaning practitioner for a brief moment, noting Fulcrum's recovery and Dragonfly's demonstration of power. "Oh my. Quite the unexpected rout." With a forced smile, he raised both hands with the wrists together. "I must avail myself of your mercy and surrender."

[Ecalsneerg]

"Yeeeeah," drawled Geckoman, panting and clutching his side as he came back into view with a pair of handcuffs dangling from his hand. "You tried to kill us and kidnap a child. Our mercy extends to us not kicking your ass up between your elbows before we toss you into the clink."

He spun the handcuffs around one finger. "No funny business. I'm not handcuffing you in front of your body. Turn around and let me cuff you from behind." Geckoman glanced behind him at his comrades. "You guys OK? I'll handle the clean-up if you wanna go check up on the house and get some medical help for Fulcrum."

[Fox]

[bg=#555555]"Mmh. Will help."[/bg] Dragonfly unceremoniously walked up to grab one of the unconscious swordmen by the ankle, dragging them closer to the rest and all but tossing the unfortunate sod onto the pile.

[bg=#555555]"You,"[/bg] she added, pointing an accusing finger at Jack, [bg=#555555]"are about have a baby. Or, she is. Whatever. Go do...father things. Tell them we're okay. See your baby born. Will probably be in to join you once we clean up and make sure we aren't bleeding or leaking radiation or something."[/bg]

[Dariusprime]

Just as she began her descent, something happened. At first she wasn't sure exactly what, but obviously something happened. Falling quickly to the streets, she slowed and took in the scene. Looked like, well, she missed all the fun. Angling her descent, she landed softly next to Geckoman and eyed the surrendering forces. Her scowl could melt steel, or at the least give the impression that she was about to punch out someone's blood. Maybe the Dakanan's, considering their brief introduction.

But no, that wasn't her way. Her attention shifted as she surveyed the battlefield, "Not bad. Not bad. Especially for a Sunday," she said flatly.

"How is everyone?" was addressed to her teammates. A bit sluggishly, she began helping Dragonfly gather up the unconscious.

Of course the one thing, besides her friends' safety, for which she was most relieved was the distinct lack of that Daka sword. She didn't know where it went and she didn't care. At the moment, their job was outside and that suited the giantess just fine.

To the new father, she gave a thumbs up and a tired smile, "Good going, Jack."