Scene #7767: This Scene Contains Penguins

Owner	Pose
Liza Grier	When Liza had said 'it's hard to explain', she probably had not, in fact, meant 'I don't feel like explaining', but 'there is no concise way of explaining this'. Appropriately, 'bring swimsuits' was honest and helpful advice. The two are related. The place to be is not in space, but a different kind of place where ships and captains abound; at least, on the coast of it anyways. Balmy and tropical even at (or perhaps because of) this time of year, you're greeted not by the cold and ominous void of stars, but by white sand, turquoise waves, majestic sea boulders half-covered in green foam, bizarrely pink and teal quasi-tropical plants, and a lot of penguins. Not like African penguins who live here. Squat little waddling blue-black-white bozos who totter about wearing sunglasses, floral print shirts, straw hats, and other tropical contrivances, who have crowded out a significant chunk of this beach with crappy fold-out chairs, plastic patio furniture that looks 3d printed, mismatched umbrellas, random exotic rugs serving the purpose of beach blankets, boomboxes that look suspiciously like car stereos, and coolers full of melons and suspect drinks. There is a beach resort. Pretty palms and white facades, fancy glass oriental-style buildings with shoji doors, surf lanes and diving tours, all hemmed in by the tips of a coral reef you can see in places at low tide. This is not there. The resort property seems like it stops above a mile south. These penguins are just kind of being assholes. It looks as if they've even set up a 'souvenir shop' out of a shipping container, and are charging locals (who are all either human, or colour three-eyed fish people) premium prices for extremely dubious attractions. Further north, up the beach, a rocky peninsula leads out to a temporary platform out on the waves, which, judging by the number of cranes and winches and smoke-belching secondhand generators, appears to be salvage-related. It, too, is crewed entirely by penguins, only some of whom are still bothering to wear their hard hats and superfluous reflective vests, while the rest play cards and dick around. And, finally, floating on the water itself not too far away, is what is probably definitely a fairly obvious coast guard-equivalent corvette, currently in the process of making a huge scene with bright yellow and black speedboats, hovercraft, and two-person submersibles swarming all over the area. Men in navy blue fatigues are attempting to cordon off the area and have successfully blocked all work on the platform. Liza is stuck on the beach as well, 'blending in' with a slightly racy black and red swimsuit to match the wealth bracket of the dupes being suckered in from the beach resort. She is over by the back end of the shipping container pop-up mall, talking to an extremely clever and suave looking guy who is at a beach in a fully concealing sketchy purple cowl and hood, and by talking, it is obviously meant arguing. "So, you didn't have the modules." "I did! I made sure they were all there!" "On a crashed USCM ship, underwater, that you didn't have salvage rights to." "Yeah! Nobody else was working on it! I checked!" "That's because this is a-- Who do you think called the cops on your bullshit?" "They have spies everywhere, Grier. They probably tapped my--" "The snooty fucks who own the goddamn resort did you moron!" "Look, it's cool, I'll smooth it over and--" "They seized all your shipyard equipment!" "Yyyyesss, but I know another guy." "Is he going to finish putting my ship back together?" "Yes! If you have a pre-paid license!" "And you're going to forge one, right?" "Well, see, the funny thing is . . ."
Redshift Operators	When the Redshifts Operators get here, they are, of course, memorably subject to their own branding, and entirely not clothed in what one would traditionally consider to be "swimsuits". The giant of the team is perhaps best-dressed, with his seven feet and change of heavy pressure-sealed ocean-floor-type diving suit. That can't be secure, considering one of the four glowing eyeports has a crack and has been noticably duct-taped over. Less agonizingly heavy-duty is that gruff gunman's blood-red heavy-scuba look, combining hard plates and a thick dull-red wetsuit. His standard weapons, still strapped to his sides, have all been replaced by what looks initially like water guns: a full armory of Oshan Armories Soak'em!(tm) waterarms (a tactical 45 MPa Lil' Squirt Custom sidearm, a heavy 700 MPa-chambered H2-OO assault rifle, and a sawn-off Pressure Washer Special). The space-case of team is, notably, not actually wearing anything different from what he normally wears; astronaut gear, you may note, has a long and storied history of being used underwater, both for underwater aerospace tests and for sightings off the beach. The cyborg samurai of the team has perhaps actually taken the request to heart in some real way. But unfortunately her idea of swimwear appears to be a combination of scuba gear, her usual goggles, and a one-piece swimsuit with multiple mechanical accessories and a set of weird prop leg-jets. Anyone with even a cursory knowledge of Multiversal media can identify this as cosplay for Sea Strikers, an anime where famous submarine captains are depicted as outrageously attractive twenty-something women who fight kaiju on the ocean floor. None of the elaborate cosplay props are functional, except for the katana, which is outrageously functional. The team, sort of hiding out under a beachside umbrella, decide that maybe the samurai is (unfortunately) best-dressed for the social end of things. She maneuvers around the penguins as she approaches Liza and her contact. "I was told of great pain on these shores." She whispers ominously on approach, holding her robotic arm with no small amount of drama. "Now, and soon to come. Tell me, blood slayer, where am I needed to cut this gordian knot?"
Forte	Summer Beach Skin Forte! He has a beach towel in place of a cloak, and an opaque scuba mouthpiece covering the lower half of his face, because some things just don't change. But - he does sort of manage to blend in, at least. The Summer Beach Forte Skin that a tech-savvy Watch comrade modeled up quickly is at least human-toned, but the headfins couldn't be cosmetic-microtransactioned away. At least it's sort of fish-person-ish? Right now, after a strange set of circumstances have passed, he has ended up helping a small child build a sandcastle. "You need at least a thirty centimeter trench in front of it - with a channel for the water to flow back towards the ocean," he says. "High tide is a day zero exploit. Next we'll go over how to set up a honeypot trap in your foundation," he says, gesturing at the pile of very sharp rocks that would, say, slice up someone's foot if they happened to attempt to kick over the sandcastle.
Shotaro Hidari	To those who come here and want a swimsuit and do not own one... Akiko Narumi is an averaged sized Japanese woman who has her hair done up in a bun with a bow on top of it. She has an artillery bag full of slippers with various things typed on them, just in case she has to hit someone with a relevantly addressed slipper. Beyond that, she is in a modest one-piece bathing suit with a towel wrapped around her waist. If you have gotten a swimsuit from her, it is...something. However bad you think it is, it is in fact worse. She didn't just go for the cheapest, but the cheapest in the local area, the stuff that is left on clearance racks after last year's sales. The stuff that nobody touches, and in fact, she haggled to get the price down even more. She is, if nothing, economical. She stands next to Shotaro Hidari, who is dressed in a pair of blue swim trunks, and a light Hawaiian shirt. It's unbuttoned in the front revealing a modest, if not well-built body. On his head is a fedora, which is a bright blue today, but perhaps standing out a bit. He stands next to another young man who has his hair done in some braids, in a very...uncomfortable looking speedo, that looks like Akiko got it for him. However, unlike others, he seems unbothered by this. However, he is extremely anemic compared to Shotaro but has his face shoved into a book when they arrive. Philip looks uninterested, Akiko is a bundle of energy, but not sure where to fire it, and Shotaro has spent a small amount of time being observant. He taps Philip across the shoulder and points towards Liza. With a motion, an overly dramatic closing of his book, he looks over and nods. Akiko looks clueless because she's not being let in on the point. Well, she might have not also listened to Liza. Walking over towards the...enhanced discussion, Shotaro tips his hat to Lisa. "I starting to get that there are some salvage troubles..." he says looking at the shady contact. It's a very hardboiled expression, only tempered by the fact he's wearing a fedora in an outfit better described as 'on vacation' rather than in a suit he normally wears. Philip's eyes light up a little, "So what's important about this wreck?" he asks, probably Liza because out of the two she seemed to have the knowledge. Akiko on the other hand looks at the other woman's swimsuit but feels a tinge of envy.
Rita Ma	Logically, Rita has so little need of a swimsuit that it borders on the absurd, but she believes in keeping up appearances. This is the Designated Beach Episode; "when in Rome..." So she's wearing a simple cerulean one-piece swimsuit, separated only from the kind professional swimmers might wear by the existence of ample cute frills that cascade down in layers to form something reminiscent of a skirt at the bottom. This is, tacitly, the outfit of someone who expects to spend more time in the water than soaking up sun. She emerges onto the mission site Monster-of-the-Lagoon-style, just walking out of the ocean up onto the beach. Only after she's shaken herself off, removed a starfish clinging to her arm, and wrung out her long hair does she start to take in her surroundings. For some reason, she ignores the penguins and the swarming Coast Guard guys to bolt right towards Liza and the man in the purple cloak. "Kana! I-" It's not until she gets closer that recognition hits. A complex series of emotions play out over her face; the most prominent one is embarrassment. "... I mean, Liza! I mean Ms. Grier. ... No, never mind, it's nothing." After a moment or two of standing timidly in Liza's shadow- arguments are scary!- she points off in the distance, to the platform with the penguins in hard hats. "That's where the problem is, isn't it? But if we need those 'modules', and they don't want us to have them... we're not going to have to fight them, are we?" With childlike firmness, she turns and insists to White Dwarf: "You can't slay blood, Ms. Dwarf. You slay things and then blood comes out. That's not how it works."
Xion	Xion has only heard two pertinent details of the operation. One: The challenge would happen at the beach. Two: Water transportation might be asked for. But, otherwise it was Liza asking the Watch to help out! It was only fair, and promise of a beach stirred odd feelings in Xion's chest. "You know...? I can't remember the last time I went out on the ocean like that." Xion doesn't approach from a portal or corridor - instead she paddles onto shore on a long pale white longboard in a two-piece swimsuit in black with a single magenta line down the quarterline vertically, down the front of her left side. A single ankle-ring in animation error vantablack attaches danglingly to her ankle. Finding the crowd is easy, though. "Hey everyone! I didn't know everyone else was into the beach!" Surfing Xion comments, soggy hair dripping gently as she moves the board to a shoulder.
Candy	Candy is 'stuck' on the beach in the same way that a burglar is 'stuck' in a high end jewelry store. He wears a one-piece swimsuit in red and white stripes, reminiscent of the era of his world--it terminates in little shorts, although his figure leaves little to the imagination there. There's a cloth-backed folding chair tucked under one arm, and an umbrella under the other, with a tin cooler hanging so precariously off the back end that he has to adjust his grip to keep it from falling. He is currently listening to Forte's TED talk. "Wait, wait, so you're telling me the beach hunk comes over and kicks over my castle--the rocks, I get, the high tide I get. When are you supposed to come onto him?" He unfolds the chair with a flick of his wrist and plants himself in it, dropping the umbrella to one side and causing the cooler to partially submerge in the sand. There's a glance towards Rita and a friendly little wave with waggling fingers, then he opens the cooler and pulls out a beer. A bottle opener just appears in his waiting hand--and the first bottle of EL BASTARDO is opened. He gestures with the bottle towards the coast guard commotion. "It sure looks to me like they're not gonna leave without a fight. You see all that shit? All the noise?" He chuckles. "Uniforms love that shit. Making noise and playing with their little toys. Look at 'em! Having the time of their lives with the black and yellow and hauling ass. We tell them to get lost, or take that shit from under them, it is going to be like -we- are kicking -their- sandcastles over."
Forte	"No, you're thinking of cat-spearphishing," says Forte, glancing over at Candy. "It doesn't apply unless you're trying to lure him off and leave his sandcastle unguarded."
Liza Grier	Liza first turns when Rita calls out to her from afar. It is her understandable ignorance of Rita's past, and her love for elite syndicate red and black, that causes this misunderstanding. However, Rita is its only victim, because Liza looks back only in recognition of Rita's voice, and stares at her with blank, polite confusion. "Oh. Hello Rita." she eventually replies. "You look cute." She spots White Dwarf next. "And you look . . . Like you mean business." And then she glances past her to see the rest of the gang forming around, and breaks off from her verbal abuse of the most suspicious person that could possibly be found on a beach, hands on her hips. "Yeah, gather around. Get a load of this." she starts. The hooded figure, doing his best to speak exclusively in a very trustworthy and above board scratchy growl, attempts to take over, and gets as far as 'You see' before Liza shoots him a glare that silences him instantly. "I need some major renovations done on my ship, for reasons. Significant upgrades. Obviously, I can't just pull into any old shipyard and wave a credit card at them; even if I wanted to finance it, someone would get bright ideas and call the army the minute they recognized me, right? But I need them done, and so I decided 'hey, Penguin Bay does shipbreaking and construction, I should talk to my guy'. Because he owes me." She emphasizes. A guy who looks like a ninth level d20 game assassin flinches. "And 'my guy' here claimed he has everything ready. So I get coordinates and drop by. Says he can have it ready in a day. Which is good, because, if I can remind you, my ship is where I live. But it turns out, when he said he 'has everything', he didn't, but to try and clear one of his many debts, he lied, and figured he'd make up the difference by counting the gear he hadn't yet salvaged from an operation he planned to pull sometime in the future. Like when this resort was closed over the winter." "Technically, in the southern hemisphere of this planet, it--" "Shut up." "Yes ma'am." "Obviously, I'm not letting anyone take apart my whole ship. It's built on a pretty common kind of modular frame. They're built so that you can add more compartments and expand the superstructure with these standardized modules; they're like kits you fit into the ship's hardpoints to extend its structural support and wire everything together. I needed eight, he had four, and planned to get the other four by stripping them from a private military derelict that crashed out of orbit here ten years ago, which the USCM never came back for, because the whole island is owned by rich hylotl motherfuckers who would sue their asses off for messing up the beachfront view. Which he did. So they called the coast guard from the nearest city. Which is underwater." "Obviously, since this whole shipbreaking op is illegal, in private waters as a foreign worker, and he has a fake license for it at best, they didn't just stop at telling him to fuck off; they shut down everything and are conducting a full search and seizure of the assets here. Which probably includes all the equipment he's going to need to patch my ship back up, which is currently not spaceworthy." Looking about as Professionally Done With This as she can be, Liza finishes with "I'm in the middle of deciding whether to bail him out again. Taking all his shit back from the coast guard means he packs up and runs before the reinforcements get here, puts my ship back to how it was, I'm back at square one, and he'll owe me an even bigger one. Diving for the rest of the modules myself is going to take long enough for his ass to be on the grill up here, and then there isn't anyone to actually install the things, so I have to call in someone else to finish half a job. And I'm not feeling too charitable right now."
Liza Grier	Forte has taught many valuable lessons to a child whose parents are busy sipping bootleg alcohol that they think are ethnic fusion margaritas with their buddies. "Wait, deep, or wide?" is the next question of a six year old hanging on his every word. "Wow, where did you find those? All the rocks are so smooth around here!" When the rest of White Dwarf's team goes looking for space to set down a beach spread, they pass by a group of penguins in shades and tie-dye shirts, reclined in beach chairs around a card table. One of the two foot bird instantly produces a switchblade out of somewhere, and chirps in a gravelly baritone. "Keep walking." The dealer pumps a penguin-sized shotgun menacingly.
Forte	"I brought them with me," says Forte. He turns his head slightly, listening into the briefing. "The rest is left as exercise. Remember, if a cop asks you why there's rocks in the sandcastle, you shut up, say nothing besides asking if you're being detained or if you're free to leave." The navi goes to join Liza's group. "So it sounds like making an example out of him isn't the best option," he says, blandly. "Since it'd take as much time to get the modules yourself, and then not be left with an installer." "I would ask - how many fingers does he need to have in order to complete the job?"
Rita Ma	"You look cute," Liza says. Rita immediately smiles her Sunniest Imouto Smile, fidgeting with the 'hem' of her swimsuit's frills. "You look really nice too! Those are definitely your colors." Rita takes in the dispute between Liza and the Shadiest Merchant Alive- or rather, Liza's summary of the dispute- with some mixture of grimacing acknowledgement and marveling amazement from moment to moment. An underwater city...? Is that really where these fish people live? I can't believe someone managed to make it work. Maybe someday I could visit! But at the end, when the problem's fully laid out... "Ah... Ms. Grier!" she says, her hands balling up into determined little fists in front of her chest. "We can do it if we split up our efforts, can't we? I can go get the modules myself! I'm up to it, I promise! I know all about salvage diving. It won't even take too long, I bet." That's a bold claim from someone who doesn't have any heavy equipment at all. But she does seem very persuasively sure of herself!
Shotaro Hidari	Shotaro runs a hand over his chin, making a thinking motion as the situation is explained. Philip gives a thoughtful look. This whole thing seemed a little more simple than they were expecting. Helping out their ally was a good cause too. "Could be a way to work around the coast guard without technically having to perform a crime," Shotaro says with a glint of his eyes, looking towards their 'friend'. "Getting salvage rights could make things a whole lot easier, a whole lot faster..." Philip speaks up, "And without relying on unreliable elements."
Xion	Splitting the tasks up... A large group... Dividing labor... Xion nods, beaming as she plants her surfboard by Shadiest Merchant, Liza, and the Erchius Valley Comic-Con and Diving Club. "I think Rita's got a good idea. Maybe Rita and the divers and..." Xion gives a squint to Shotaro. "That one." She returns to beaming. "Can go get the modules! Meanwhile--" Xion eagerly throws an arm around Philip. "Candy, Forte, Philip, Akiko and I can go catfishing the coast guard!"
Candy	"Ohhh. Yeah, I guesss so, Forte! Now you mention the spearing, it comes back to me." He nods sagely, then takes another sip of beer, leg idly bouncing as he listens--first to the remainder of Forte's excellent advice, then to Liza's predicament. He still hasn't fussed with the umbrella. As the developments listed off become more absurd, Candy's leg-bouncing slows, until he's leaned forward, both feet in the sand, with his elbows on his knees and chin in his palms, eyes wide and mouth agape. The last straw is assuredly the news that the aforementioned uniforms buzzing about on their boats are going to shut everything down here. The thought of a beach devoid of these shifty little guys and their tacky rugs and tourist-bilking grifts fills his heart with dread and anger. Bolting upright in his chair and crossing his arms, he huffs. "My friend, you have fucked up big time. You didn't just fuck Liza, you fucked all of these funny little guys too. Just imagine their little birdie children, asking how come there is less food on the table, ah? It's all fucked." Still, he's not one to bring up problems without solutions. "Here is what we will do. You watch your buddy, so he don't break his ass trying to get away. Any not-us, not-uniforms in the water, I get 'em out. Then some of us go diving, and some of us handle the uniforms. Me, I will do the second one, ah?" His eyes gleam with mischief. "Lots of hands make for faster work, like Rita says. You -totally- sure we can't do both?" "Catspearfishing the coast guard? C'mon, Xion" he whines. "I don't wanna hit on no fucking uniform. Can't I just make a teeny, tiny little mortar, and you know..."
Redshift Operators	Oof! The Redshifts can't get any under-umbrella squatter's rights. "Yeah, yeah, alright. You ought'a be snakes and not birds, hrmph." The tense gunman grumbles as he stops trying to find a spot, and moves on to settle and figure things out with Liza. After the full explanation, he offers: "Well, can't blow 'em all up 'cause there's valuables to salvage, but if nobody's got plans for how to get those licenses... I figure we run over there, start blasting, pick up a boat and the gear, blast some more, and don't stop blasting until Lilac Liar here can close the deal with her help." He has a few nods for Xion, but mostly a headshake at his distribution on the role. "We're Operators, not great for salvage. Not unless we're expecting the fuzz to be in action floorside." He regards the waves a moment. "Hmm. Wait. Right. Fish people. Maybe you're right." "Certainly. I know only a little of the nature of this, but I suspect <Lita> possesses salvaging capacity enough to turn this grim tide. And my dark curse does truly boil within my spirit on these shores." That ninja strikes another dramatic pose, with her organic hand gripping her robotic arm. The absent-minded astronaut remains quiet for a long, long time, before speaking up abruptly, probably right when someone else was going to. "If your ship can be refitted fast enough. That's the important part, it's the objective."
Liza Grier	Forte's protege looks upon his wisdom of hauling buckets of sharp rocks around with sparkling eyes. Truly this is the grownup he will one day aspire to become. "Right! I remember! 'I do not give you permission to search my property'! Thanks mister!" Liza replies to Shotaro first. "Yeah, but getting the rights, unlikely as that is, still means someone else finishing the job. This job isn't exactly subtle. They're going to find all his contraband, black market resales, non-compliant aftermarket upgrade jobs, and pirated software pretty fast. He was supposed to pay me back, and instead he expects me to bail him out." She points at her astronaut listener. "Yeah. That's right. Finishing up my ship is the objective. And we're about to lose it." The grim spectre of a trustworthy merchant scratch-growls in such a way that his little glowing eyes under the shadow of his hood manage to evoke panic at Forte. "Huh?! All of them! Can't use no tools without no fingers!" Liza interrupts. "Except if you're a penguin, which all of your workers are." "Come on! What's that gonna solve!" "Yeah, I have to admit, we're not the mob here." She stares blankly at Candy for a moment, then almost hesitantly adds "Don't . . . Don't worry about the penguins too much. I don't think they really give a shit. And it's just kind of a rule of thumb you don't make trouble in penguin space." However, Rita presents her suggestion, and Xion seems totally sold by it. Who is Liza to ignore two cute and spunky anime-aged girls. Three, counting the ninja, but it isn't clear if she's actually convinced or just wants to pose. "Yeah . . . Yeah, that might be possible. But your timing has to be pretty close. Response time here is probably half an hour; breaking their radios won't help all that much; someone is just going to get on their phone once they see it. I can show you what to look for." Liza crosses her forearm over her chest, and taps away at her outfit's beach bangle, which then starts bleeping and projecting a hologram of a thick and heavy-set spaceship with a stubby, shuttle-shaped design, all hard angles and industrialist gunmetal. Highlights around the base of the raised tower that makes for an upper deck mast, the joins of its 'wings' to its sides, a ways past its nose, and around the circumference of its broad, flat, belly, appear, along with a diagram of a silver box with a big red stripe and green lights, and one of it opened up like origami, with massive quantities of wires, pipes, pneumatics, and magnets, piling out of it. After a moment's thought, Liza adds, "And watch for sharks."
Shotaro Hidari	Shotaro can't disagree, time being of the essence. He doesn't have the time to schmooze into the situation, nor does Philip have time to suss things out. Philip holds up a hand, "Oh, how exciting! I'll join in on that then.." To which Shotaro has a 'are you serious look. Rubbing his forehead after a bit, he knows the futility of stopping Philip when he's in this kind of mood. Akiko will be with him, should they need to transform. Though...if Phip has to transform... That'll get interesting.
Forte	Forte wonders if he should have told the kid about not trusting HR, and what states have squatters' rights, and how it's always ethical to pirate video games, and some other nuggets of wisdom. Maybe next protege he'll give some more advice to. He takes a mental screenshot of the holographic info just in case, and nods. "Understood. Are these normal sharks...?" > What's a normal shark? "... Alright then." He checks his weaponry loadout just in case of underwater combat - the gauss flayer's data is corrupted, but firing off death lightning underwater might not be the best idea anyway. Charge shot and swords it is, then. "Let's see..." He starts mentally searching, trying to tune into the Coast Guard's frequency - for hopping straight into one of their boats.
Candy	"Oh, okay," says Candy to Liza, nodding pleasantly. He won't worry about the penguins--but this only makes him appreciate them more. Small, cute, not giving a shit and being someone you don't fuck with are all virtues he holds in high esteem. If they're running the show here, then he can easily start by co-opting their image to get anyone uninvolved out of the water. Though he doesn't stir from his seat, within moments of Liza's warning about sharks, there is the sound of a whistle. A penguin in stereotypical 'lifeguard' attire, complete with a toupee resembling your average beach hunk blowback, comes running down the beach with a boogie board and a whistle. The coloration of that deep-blue is a little off, but perhaps the motions might be urgent enough to get people out of the water and further down the beach from the coast guard. Safety first! Then, and only then, does Candy get to work proper. As promised, a mortar suited for sinking patrol boats rather than cracking heavy armor or locking down choke points. It reaches his knee, appearing following a cloud of smoke, laid out on a beach towel with several fist sized shells. With those boats buzzing around, the idea is not necessarily to hit one--just to scare the fuck out of them and get them to scatter, just long enough for anyone else to handle them one at a time. "Lessee," Candy says, holding his arm out, thumb measuring the direction of the wind, eyes squinting with concentration. "Azmuth... yep. Elevation... uh huh. Forte's got that one... Alrighty! Fire one~" Thunk. The shell whistles, screams, and sends up a dramatic, unmistakable plume of water, right after Forte's landing.
Rita Ma	"Whoa..." Rita murmurs, staring at the hologram in open wonderment. She even tries to poke it with her finger unsuccessfully. After a moment, though, her mind gets back on track: "It's those glowy parts you need-" she means the highlighted bits- "right, Ms. Grier? We can do that!" She gives a firm nod to Shotaro and the Redshifts- the people Xion's singled out, plus anyone else who wants to volunteer- and gestures for them to follow her. "We only have half an hour, but that should be plenty of time if we work together. It'll be down where that platform is- let's go!" Normally I'd feel less confident. Why am I okay making calls like this now? ... Mostly because it's really in my element. But maybe people like Liza and Hibiki are rubbing off on me a little, too. Rita runs towards the water, kicking up plumes of sand, and dives below the surface as soon as it's deep enough- she's a preternaturally agile swimmer, even while keeping up a pretense of being human. Her cheeks are, at least, puffed out so she can pretend she's holding her breath. What's the situation directly below that salvage platform? That's got to be where the ship is, right? Has anyone else gotten there first?
Xion	Xion beams out an enormous smile. "Right. It's really simple! All we have to do, together, is just find something to paddle out to the coast guard ship and--" Xion's beaming smile and bright ocean-blue eyes hold steady as her wet hair whips with air disturbance as Candy just straight up launches a mortar at a boat -- or at least near one. Her eyes twitch. "I was thinking of just reporting something stolen and asking them nicely in swimsuits, since that usually works, but..." Xion squats down next to the mortar, sliding her finger around the edge of the smoking nozzle. "I guess this is fine too. Alright, everyone!" Xion stands back up, pumps her bicep and pantomimes rolling up a sleeve. "We'll just dismantle the coast guard?" Xion thumbs up at Shotaro as mortar smoke curls behind her. "It's alright! No problem."
Redshift Operators	The space case unboxes a heavy harpoon gun, and gathers up a toolbox worth of gear, closely examining what Liza's projecting so that they can get the group where they need to go! The gunman gets his H2-OO ready, racking its gas-powered mechanisms and nodding. "We'll keep 'em covered." He says, plainly. "The big guy can help handle transit for the stuff." "Hmhmhm. Yeah. Can help when it comes to tearing things apart for our pal Liza." The giant diver is so eager to help. So eager that his internal respirator strains and crackles slightly when his heavy diving suit moves. So excited that he places a hand on the grim merchant-spectre's shoulder, gentle but incredibly firm. "You're going to help out. Aren't you? When you have your gear. So we can all help get your debts paid. You do your work, and I'll bring anything intact topside." As a cohesive unit, they immediately move out at a tactical jog, surging into the water after Rita. They lack her immense water maneuverability, so they'll just be rushing straight for the objective, the three others mounting onto the giant's shoulders and riding the in-water flight of sorts, produced by the pack of his diving gear. The astronaut intends to help breach, the giant intends to help tear and lift, and the gunman and the ninja will be defenses and lookouts -- for the former-latter and latter-latter, prediction helps immensely.
Shotaro Hidari	Shotaro looks put off as the plan goes a bit off the rails right away. "Hey Philip, you and Akira might wanna actually go with the swimming team. Just uh..." "Yeah, I know. There is a boat here even.." A moment later Akiko and Philip are in the boat Xion brought, rowing it out unless stopped. Somewhere near the wreck, Philip holds out a hand, and a frog flips into it. Moments later the robotic frog hits the water, aiming to help Rita in FINDING just what they need. Philip spends his time on the boat trying to help sort things out, as well as try and find things. He also tosses a robot snail in the water, which will probably stick to someone. The point? Revealing Sharks. Shotaro, on the other hand, takes his loose-fitting shirt off. He doesn't right off go looking for a fight, but rather waits for it to come at them now that the fighting's started. He points a finger at any coast guard that approaches him. He's struggling to come up with a one-liner. As such he can't attack first.
Xion	Shotaro correctly examines Xion's <Canoe> and finds that it is, clearly, a <Canoe>. The white-framed, black-spined canoe with two completely normal and extremely out-of-place seeming oars. Philip finds that the oars are mismatched, and one of them is actually meant for an inflateable raft and not a canoe at all. That Xion came here on a surfboard is irrelevant -- Akiko had grabbed it off the beach when Philip did the switch because CLEARLY someone needed to use the boat, and she did say 'paddle out and see', so... MEANWHILE-- Xion looks back to find merely the outline in the beach of where her surfboard was. "Wait, did I put it back into my inventory..." Xion looks down at her leg, where the board clip around her ankle has a green slipper on it with a cartoonish Akiko-face drawn on and Japanese text. Xion squats down again to read the tag on her ankle. "... Oh, wait. I can't read this."
Candy	"Huh?" asks Candy, staring at Xion as she traces her finger around the business end of the mortar. There's already another shell in his hands. "Oh," he says, shrugging his shoulders, as he carefully loads it. "Yeah! I guess that could have worked too." One good turn deserves another.
Xion	Xion turns back to the mortar, boardless and bereft. "No, Candy..." She places a hand on his shoulder. "Just do what your heart wants to do. I think today we're only doing half my plan." She smiles, eyes shining. "Which is great! Normally we do zero percent of one of my plans, and I just hit things!" Xion points downrange. "You wanna know what'll really sizzle them? Blow off their anchor. They'll have to drydock the ship to fix it - no more bay blocking for them!"
Liza Grier	Candy goes firing a fucking mortar. The beach erupts into yelling, pointing, gasping, people picking up their children, people taking photos, and people getting out their phones to make emergency calls, who aren't hurrying away. 'People' means 'everyone who isn't a penguin', because the penguins continue their business as if distant explosions are just part of the day. One of them, ostensibly some kind of DJ, cranks up the volume a few notches on the speakers and switches tracks (on vinyl for some reason?) over to some techno grindcore house step abomination, to which the rest of the little bastards just start grooving even harder to. There is wisdom here, in that the sound of sirens actually seems to go well with it; and there are sirens now. Liza sighs, and then says to Xion "Yeah. That probably would have been a better idea. Well, don't forget. There's no point just starting a fight with them and running away. The Penguin Bay boys have to get packed up." She stares at the hooded figure for a few moments. He croaks "Oh right. I should-- yeah." He then trundles back inside the very definitely legal storefront made of shipping containers and begins dialling some numbers. The penguins aboard the floating platform hop-to, as some kind of foreman begins slamming a ladle on an iron pot and making loud penguin quacking sounds. The speed at which they can fold up entire gambling dens, throw tarps over things, and carry away heavy equipment over their heads like a swarm of pikmin, is almost scary. A single file of them assembles by the tiny steps, where another penguin slams open a ship locker and begins handing out full-sized AKs to each crewman that passes. The speedboats do, in fact, scatter. Most of the craft pull back from the shore, but a pair of ultra fast hovercraft skim over the water straight towards Candy's position, fast enough that a weewoo doppler effect is created by the sirens. Someone is yelling (calmly) into a megaphone, telling all tourists to return to their lodgings in an orderly fashion (apparently having immediately ruled out anyone who isn't a penguin), but where the craft hit beach, a score of yellow-black clad men in full diving suits spill out down the ramps, fanning out around the beach and searching for Candy with assault rifles drawn. The radar mast on the ship itself spins around twice and fixes his way.
Liza Grier	Rita leading the way under the water doesn't take long to find what they're looking for; ten years isn't all that long, as far as shipwrecks go, and the barnacle-studded, kelp-wrapped hulk looks pretty much identical to the hologram, save that its first third is buried in sand and mud, tilted forward at a 30 degree angle. It's just deep enough under the water for its silhouette to be blurred and tinted deep, night blue, but shoals of fish and crabs, as well as eels and jellyfish, swarm around it all the same. Philip's scan finds that most of those module points are still intact, but those near the nose and the forward portion of the belly were completely destroyed, leaving only one at each 'wing', two under the tower, and two at the rear belly portion. They're also buried deep in the guts of the craft; veritable black boxes that all the internals funnel into and spread back out from. 'Sharks' apparently means, five minutes into the swim, elephant-sized dark blue behemoths, perfectly camouflaged against the water, with trailing lappets, clusters of iridescent black eyes, and toothy maws that work in a way similar to a certain infamous kind of shrimp; that is, they like to circle close, clack their massive chompers together, and create a huge pulse of shock and energy from the supersonic impact, to stun and/or kill anything in close range to them charge-tackle and bite. However, the ship itself is easy enough for Neutron to breach; it's a private military cutter, lightly armoured, not seaworthy, and with most of its hull stripped from cheap and infrequent maintenance, rusted and corroded by the ocean tides. The door mechanisms are broken, but filled with water, easily popped; basic explosives take the airlocks off like safe doors with the same water method. The interiors are fully flooded, and it seems probably fully evacuated. Save for the odd giant sea snake, or quill-shooting giant urchin, the problem is the sheer number of bulkheads, seals, and emergency clamps all pulled down on everything from crew quarters to fuel pumps to the magazine, bracing for an imminent crash by trying to prevent a massive explosion. Both 'wings' contain large amounts of said weaponry, while the deck tower is especially blocked off to prevent anything from getting to the command staff and all of their fancy things, should they have stayed on board. The belly is some kind of cargo, or maybe hangar, space, as far as the layout suggests, and is the least secured, but the most filled with sparking cables, leaking pumps, and grumpy wildlife.
Shotaro Hidari	Philip, up in the boat and struggling to row it with the mismatched paddles is looking like he's just had a ton of a workout. In reality, he's just /horribly/ nerdy and noodly and has the constitution of a child. Though once he's on top of the area of the wreck, he pulls out a book. Not a tablet or anything like that. A real ass book. He swings the pages along, and after getting the feedback from the robot animals... He radios Rita, "You see my friends in the water? The Snail and the Frog? The snail can detect when you are about to get attacked by the...shark, and the frog can lead you to where you need to get module points. I'll try helping the best that I can, but if for some reason you hear Akiko trying to guide you, remain calm and help her remain calm too, okay?" he says with that slightly annoying tone of a smart boy, but also fairly happy go lucky. It's an adventure, even if he just did his year's worth of exercise in a day. Shotaro, on the other hand, is frowning. Guns weren't a thing he had to deal with back home, as they're not usually something thugs get. These, on the other hand, seemed to be more about shooting first and asking questions later. Shotaro, walking up towards the penguins decides to do what he does...well second best? He points towards the guns. "Excuse me, what are you doing on this beach with these? There are still people trying to escape, and bringing these weapons is just putting us all in danger. Instead, you should be sending people to scout for the person who caused the explosions first. Come on now, where is your spirit?" he says, hopefully, he can buy time for people...or at the very worst make himself a target and have to force the transformation into W faster.
Forte	Ah - the catfishing plan gets cast aside in favor of violence. This is also fine. Forte looks for a signal - anything that he can jack into and travel upon. Boat radios, cell phones - heck, fish finders would work. Once he finds something, he blips out from the beach and into the device... - and then starts causing havoc. Displays and readouts being wrong is always nice. Bursts of loud noise or exploding batteries are also always useful things. And as soon as he's put something in motion, he continues on - jumping from connection to connection for as long as he can.
Xion	Liza laments with Xion about what could have been, until she makes some insinuation that Xion will leave. "Huh? Run away? I mean, I always can leave, but I realized this wasn't super duper serious when Candy's mortar didn't lock down every way out of a large arena. You know? Sometimes it's just fun to have a beach day." Xion smiles at Candy as the Coast Guard begins to deploy Coastal-Corporate Beachfront Enjoyment Officers in yellow with their weewoo siren speedboat that makes a landing on the surf. "Well, I think you'll get a few more shots. Enjoy!" She encourages, trying to decide what to do. A penguin waves her over. She points at herself. The penguin nods. It makes a 'wak' sound. Xion tilts her head and makes a 'wak', extending her hands out by her sides, fin-fingered, to make a full body tilt, and 'flipper' shrug. 'wak?' she asks. The penguin nods. Encouraged by this, Xion briefly joins the penguin line for a moment, and is rewarded for her efforts with: * One (1) Penguin AK-47. The magazine is half-expended. You can't expect God to sort it it. * A set of glow-stick bracelts from the rave! * A pair of plastic novelty beach sunglasses that proudly declare the owner an adherent of FLIP LIFE. Walking up to Shotaro Hidari to hand him a real gun with real bullets, Xion looks at the approaching cops. "What seems to be the officer, problems?" She calls, glowstick -wrapped wrists framing her neck as her hands cup her mouth for volume.
Candy	Candy's next few shots go wide--sadly, their response time was a little faster than he'd hoped for, and Xion's suggestion is unfulfilled. Artillery is an art, and he's more of a hobbyist. He has another problem, now--the approaching hovercraft. Fighting that many men in an open area like this will be difficult. If he can just get somewhere he can funnel them even a little bit... Ah fuck. No idea what that doodad is, but it's pointed right at me. Time stops. The score of guards are frozen mid-sweep, assault rifles at the ready. The gently retreating water at the shoreline halts halfway past the hovercraft. Single-file penguins pause mid-march, with several still awaiting a rifle to be given over, while Shotaro's pointed finger and gambling dens made into motionless dioramas make the scene look almost like a painting. Now would be a good time to use the last of Persephone's strength. Candy concentrates on the shoreline. An invisible, immaterial muscle, highly developed from years of use, heaves with exertion. The shoreline beneath the feet of the advancing diving suits divots, just slightly. That won't be enough. A spread of five cards--one for every two men. Candy steps back from the beach towel, cards tucked between his fingers. It'll be hard to conceal his movements in sand, but there's always illusion. When he rises, there's another Candy in the seat behind him--it's just that there's a pair of sunglasses on him that the original wasn't wearing. He flings the cards, one at a time. They halt in the air about a foot from his position, in each case. A glance towards Shotaro, Xion approaching him with an AK. He doesn't bother to stifle a giggle, because when things resume it's gonna be buried in the cacophony he's created anyway. It occurs to him, then, that there is a perfectly easy way he can get across the sand with no obvious footprints other than the ones he made towards the beach patrol. Time resumes. -An enormous eruption of sand, dry and wet alike, bursts outwards. -Five playing cards cut through the sand, bursting into a deluge of water as soon as they make contact with the ground. -Candy (False) is vibing in the beach chair near the mortar. He is wearing sunglasses. The real one wasn't. -Candy(true) appears prone on the top of the 9th Level Shadelord's shipping container shop, bolt action rifle trained on the shoreline.
Liza Grier	There are more than enough signals for Forte to jack. Radar. Sonar. Radio communication. Cell service. Satellite uplink. Rangefinders. Thermals. Obnoxious amounts of bluetooth everywhere. He finds the main tactical computer scanning all of the beach's heat sigs, and extrapolating the course of the mortar shell backwards through ballistic calculistics. He finds some sort of laser gun rotating on the top deck, aimed in line with the computer. Both abruptly stop doing anything when he gets to them first. The command crew is now panicking as the ship reads as being 30,000 meters above sea level, negative bouyant, about to run aground, surrounded on all sides by enemy battleships, taking on water while on fire, out of power, and receiving emergency distress calls. Crew struggle with the manual releases on electronically flapping doors, gun technicians reboot every sensor they can find, the reactor is put on closed operation mode and emergency power switches on, and Forte comes under attack from High Grade Milspec E-Warfare Antivirus attack. In the land of 3x3 tile battlefields, it's fish themed, with guns. Sleek piranha missiles, octopus octowielding handguns and wearing army helmets, barracudas with miniguns in their jaws, and weirdly enough, a boss encounter that is a catfish samurai with a big old katana and arquebus.
Redshift Operators	The angry gunman and his sword-wielding companion work on the menacing sea life. The latter can see, in the third light of her goggles, a terrible future of being shredded by supersonic impact. A shotgun spray of future selves spread through time, finding the spaces between the waves where the water isn't so violent, and yank her friend into them. He has the presence of mind to open fire, heavy water-jets infused with terrifying additives acting just like buckshot and assault rifle rounds deep in the water. They'll be following Rita as quick as they can, moving like true spacemen in the water, in heavy motions. Thankfully, the astronaut had the presence of mind to bring underwater welding gear, highly directed explosives, and other things that can keep those who are breaching this safe. It's been ten years... would this have enough durability to have systems to automatically release? No, there's nothing to do but to intensely focus on getting this done. Zoning out and dedicating themself exclusively to the task, the Redshift techie works in tandem with their giant buddy to force or pop as many barriers as possible, aiming to start with the upper deck and gain some control of the terrain before moving to the cargo. It's a central location, after all, and thus the easiest spot to get at those wings straightforwardly, to disconnect the modules! Which is useful. While the gunman and the ninja are effective, they're not the best option. The giant, on the other hand, is much moreso. "Wow! These animals are really mad... I hope this ship hasn't messed with the local ecosystem! Don't worry, I can help take it apart!" If the techie can make any progress disconnecting the module associated for that upper mast, the giant will simply take the titanic thing (and any of the upper deck associated with it), wrench it clean, and begin using it as a gargantuan bat with which to beat the tar out of the assaulting sea life outside. He feels like Rita's more suited for the entrenched threats inside at least, just some intuition that floated through his mostly-empty brain. "Sorry, sharks! This doesn't belong in your ecosystem, I promise this'll help if you give us some room!"
Rita Ma	A spaceship that sank... it's kind of poetic, isn't it? No, that's the wrong word to use for something so awful. I hope everyone got out okay! Rita descends elegantly past the jellyfish and eels, propelled alarmingly swiftly by (apparently) just a simple kick of her legs. Philip's snail affixes to the back of her wrist; she tries to flick it off at first before realizing it's some kind of gadget! "Ah... thanks, Mr. Philip! That'll save me from having to keep an eye out!" With renewed singlemindedness, Rita circles around to the back of the ship- the front is intuitively devastated from its impact with the seafloor- and follows the frog around to the module on one of the wings, where the Redshifts aren't. She pats the frog on the head for its good work, and then- very pointedly and carefully- holds it in a way that covers its eyes so it can't see what she's about to do. Rita's "normal girl" disguise partially unweaves itself, imitation human skin peeling off her arm in strips to bare the mutated flesh below and revealing its nature as ribbon-y tentacles. Those tentacles reach out, oozing a glowy cerulean goo, and start to hacksaw through the ship's hull: corrosive venom burns and embrittles the metal, and then harder-than-steel flesh slices through it, gouging deeper and deeper with each iteration of the cycle. Once the module's cut free, she'll affix what appears to be a metal buoy to it with a heavy iron chain, all set to carry it up to the surface. Her fingers shift, restoring the frog's vision just in time for it to see a 'burnt' chunk of carved-out metal floating up towards the surface. Rita waves 'goodbye' to it cheerfully! Of course that's when the snail sounds the alarm. Things never go smooth.
Rita Ma	Rita whirls around in shock just in time to see the monsters bearing down on her. When one of them starts to slam its jaws shut still a good distance away, some alien reflex tells her to juke- and she does, slicing through the water sideways in an elegant dodge at speeds a barracuda could envy. The shockwave still knocks her away and forces her to grit her teeth, but at that angle, not much more. Monsters! But with Mr. Philip watching, I can't... Red Giant calls for her attention, breaking that chain of thought. She glances back over her shoulder frantically, then nods. Especially not with both of them watching. I don't have a choice but to get inside. "Okay, Mr. Giant! Please be safe," she calls out, swooshing down to slip into the ship's hangar space below. To deal with the unpleasantness down there, Rita makes a simple alteration: she plugs all visible holes with "metal" and then near-instantly drains the hold of liquid through no visible means, leaving the sparking cables and toxin pumps harmless and the sea life flopping haplessly. She's forgotten she still has the frog, but even if Philip's still watching, things like that could only look like magic.
Liza Grier	Shotaro gets up in the coast guard's face and demands to see their manager. A couple of men look at him with black helmets set with triple yellow glow lights, just for a few seconds of 'hearing, but not listening' confusion, and then Xion trots up and just hands him an AK on the spot. They glance to each other, then nod. A hand signal later, and about eight dudes are all dogpiling on top of him like football pros. Two of them step aside to flank Xion, treating the younger and more female human(?) who seems completely clueless with slightly more caution. Asking her if she knows where she is, who that man is, what he's doing, etc. while still remaining in a position to tackle her if she tries to run, or drop her if she pulls a gun like a crazy. The remainder are directed by one spotting 'Candy' chilling by the mortar, and rapidly converge on him from all directions, weapons at the ready, yelling the usual about putting his hands up and getting down on his front. The following explosion of sand and surf throws them all into complete chaos, knocking many of them over, and causing the remainder to hunker down and simply try to shield themselves. It's Shotaro's best chance to gtfo as well. Up from the top of the shipping crates, he won't fail to notice that every penguin on the beach recognizes the sound of a good distraction. Tabletops are swept into coolers which are snapped shut in a second. Clothes and accessories are thrown off in a jumble so that they all look basically exactly the same. Scam souvenirs are rolled up in blankets and tossed into zip-up bags that are carried out the back door while the shutter slams. The penguins at the beachside lineup divvy up a literal golfbag full of guns, pull down their shades, and start waddling. He can also make out the couple of team laders frantically calling the ship to tell them about the situation, only for the radio waves to blast squealing static and chiptune battle BGMs at them. No more craft are approaching. They aren't even driving properly. One of the soldiers stumbles his way, and then cries out for just a second when he is gripped by an invisible hand and yeeted into the dark container interior like a trapdoor spider's lair. He can feel his footing rattle and bang, then stop.
Liza Grier	The deck tower finds the Redshifts in luck! Being at the top of the ship, and the most heavily insulated, atmospheric systems are capable of purging a significant quantity of water out of each room before becoming hopelessly clogged. Private lifeboat bays are easily accessed, and soon their techie can focus on tearing up floor plating, unscrewing hoses, cutting cables, disabling electromagnetic couplings, and retracting veins of nanofoam, to fold up a spiderweb of connectors under the floor into a single metallic cube the size of a large crate, which his big friend can haul away right after using as a heavy weapon. Thankfully, the sharks really are just giant, aggressive wildlife, and not evil sea monsters; their desire to chew on human flesh is inversely proportional to how many times they're going to get smacked in the nose for trying, and eventually back off. There's little else of interest there, save the command computer's black box and ledger records, and airtight trunks filled with dated USCM gear. Rita's delivery to the surface is received with surpassing quickness and zero questions by the penguins on the platform, who heave-ho tow hooks over the side, pass it over their heads like a mosh pit, and drop it right into the covered hold of a fishing boat which is literally being given a new spray job right this very instant in the shadow of the crane assembly. An entire penguin militia is assembling on board, some still finishing their lunch as they swap out work vests for beach shirts. Draining the cargo hold now gives her plenty of space to work with. The entire forward half is filled up with sea silt and new coral in such a way that resembles a lazy game developer having simply clipped it into the ground rather than having bothered to model it all smashed up, certainly being a newer wreck than any Rita is used to. From here, the last module should be in the ceiling, where the whole bay connects to the belly of the ship's main superstructure. Nothing there is stopping here, as there is nothing more exciting to see than the U.S.C.M logo chipping off the walls, and two dozen recessed portions in the walls, where badly flickering glowing screens separate her from depressing little rooms with a still-dry bunk bed and pair of skeletons each.
Shotaro Hidari	Akiko, finally catching up to Philip, jumps into the boat, which shakes it dangerously, because this boat was made for a river, not an ocean. The two breathe a bit easy when it DOESN'T FLIP because Philip isn't sure if he remembers how to swim or not. There is hesitation in Rita, he can see that through the drone...but there isn't much he can say to her. Thankfully, she has back up. "Alright I think I'm about to go silent, Shotaro sounds like he's in trouble." Xion hands him the gun. "...are you serious?" he asks her, before being dogpiled. At the bottom of the pile, he struggles, reminding people that he can actually fight with his hands, over guns. He punches one guy off him, enough to free up one hand and slap a belt with a weird thing that looks like two USBs connect to it. He frees the other hand by headbutting the guy on that arm and pulls out a USB stick. It's purple, and when pressed it shouts 'JOKER'. Back at the boat, Philip notices the Driver has appeared on him. "Akiko, it's up to you to help guide them..." a beat, "Use Stag to try and communicate, he says, handing her a beetle. He holds up a green USB stick, and when he presses something on it, it says 'CYCLONE'. He presses the USB stick into the right holder. On Shotaro, the stick appears, and he presses it down, followed up by the purple one. A mighty wind kicks up along the beach, aiming to throw the grapple police off of him before he is kicked up in a whirlwind of sand. CYCLONE JOKER He points a finger at the cops, "Now...count up all of the sand you've collected." he says, before charging the group with his fists.
Forte	Hey you know who also is government grade antivirus? Forte. Technically. It's a long story and not actually pertient right now. Forte faces down the boat security dungeon. Here, surrounded by fish and water theming, Forte really wishes he still had his skeleton death lightning attack. He progresses through, dodging and attacking and weaving, waiting for his autonavi customizer bar to fill back up, scoffing at the chips he's dealt... "... Ah. Here we go." A little present from New Donk City... Perfect for dealing with drones. AUTONAVI SLOT IN CTRLNFARCR W - EXECUTE The end of Forte's hand shifts into a large radar dish, which he points at some of the minigun barracudas. "Turn on your creators," he says, his voice muffled by the scuba gear on the Beach Fun Aqua Forte Skin he still has equipped. "Wreak havoc." If it works - the chaos will continueto spread from the government's own antivirus programs, while Forte continues disabling and sabotaging machines elsewhere!
Rita Ma	The faint dusty scent of bones- dry ones, specifically- sends a shiver down Rita's spine, reminding her of childhood memories she'd rather not recollect. I don't know where that smell is coming from... but that's all the more reason not to waste time looking around. The last part we need is right above me, right? Her tentacles rasp and burn at the ceiling again, cutting out an approximate square with a generous amount of room around the essential module. It's a more rapid process now that she can devote more of her tentacle mass to the task; down here in private, she has no compunctions about unwinding her disguise entirely. After a few moments, the module falls down with a heavy crunch onto the coral below, and her disguise re-weaves itself. She lets out a little sigh of exertion, drooping for a moment before perking back up. Their job's not done yet! "Ready, Neutron!"
Candy	Alright. Now we're talking. First thing's first... Fake Candy, chilling in the beach chair, ripples like water disturbed by a stone, the distortions growing in intensity until he disappears. The moment he does, bullets begin impacting the sand from down the beach--as if there were a machine gun emplacement. When the sand shoots upright into the air following the 'impacts' of those 'bullets,' it doesn't feel quite right, rolling off of the diving suits of the guards hunkering down. More like little tiny rocks, than sand. The 'zip, zip, zip' sound, however, is eerily convincing, as is the distant clattering of early twentieth century military hardware. While they're 'pinned down,' Candy takes a moment to admire the efficiency with which the penguins can get everything squared away. The best illusions have a little bit of the truth mixed in--and so he takes the opportunity, while the radar dishes on the beached hovercraft swivel wildy (unbeknownst to him) thanks to Forte, to make two shots--one for each craft. Crack. The bolt is pulled back, a fired cartridge clinking out onto the roof of the shipping container. "One, and..." Crack. "Two!~" Another push with Phony's strength, causing another massive eruption of sand. With illusions, a little telekinesis, and a bolt action rifle, he's turned this strip of beach into a goddamn war zone. It should keep his share of the would-be pursuers occupied and pinned down long enough for Rita, Akiko and the Redshifts to finish up. In between another few just-for-fun shots at the bow of one of those hovercrafts, and another dramatic sand-explosion, he turns an eye towards W and Xion's engagement, down the beach from his position. "Ohhhh. So he was gonna play 'em chin music! Good for you, private eye."
Redshift Operators	Make a big hole. That was the request! Make a big ol' hole in the hangar. That means the astronaut has to head to the area nearest those hangar walls -- they might have to clamber around like this now, and get some boosts from their giant friend. Now: A big hole. What's the easiest way to do that? What's the shortest, most efficient path between an absence of a hole, and a presence of a hole, in thick metal structures? One semicircular weld-weakening later, the solution is found. A stray beam is recycled for a specific purpose. "Wow! So I just move this?" "Yeah. This is solved science." "Oh! Who solved it?" "I don't know who invented soda cans." "Really? Well, I'm sure they were very smart!" "You don't drink soda though." "Sometimes I have vegetable juice!" "Close enough. Try now." A large beam has been welded into a precise spot in the weakened segment. The giant has clambered into a highly specific position, from which he will wrench and pull with levering force. This, it seems, is the can, but in absence of a can-opener, the tab-opening process will suffice. The astronaut's recreation of a soda-can's tab system might even hiss as equalizing air pressures shift when the titanic strength of the giant wrenches it open for Rita to move the module as she sees fit.
Xion	Hawaii 5-0 Beach Blunder Edition holds Xion up, and she plants her palms on her hips and just stares down the helmeted officers. Then the entire beach explodes around her. 'Now...count up all of the sand you've collected.' Xion, cheerfully, announces "Okay!" in the grit-haze and screams of tactical soldiers.. Finding the gun where it was knocked out of Shotaro's hands when he was football tackled by eight guys, Xion considers it. 'What would Liza do. . .' > Use Appropriate Force and Reconciliation > A NUCLEAR DEVICE. 20 MINUTES. > Funny Meme Dance! > Penguin AK "Well, I mean, it's right there." Xion agrees, bending over to retrieve the weapon. She takes aim at one of the officer's chestplates in the back and drops her finger over the trigger. "Count up my sands, right? One!" 'Braka-pop-ppop-pop!' comes the cartoonish rapport of gunfire from the break. She shifts her target and does the same, taking deliberate aim with tight, professional bursts of fire before-- 'click!' goes the magazine, far too soon for a full party banana. "Well, I think I only got to three, Shotaro!" Xion calls, ears ringing, as she runs back down the beach past the Kamen Rider. "So three!"
Rita Ma	A rush of bubbles pours out, and a flood of water pours in, as the water-drained hull is abruptly equalized with the very much aqueous exterior. Rita stands in shock as the water rushes in around her legs, hands both held over her mouth. Another monster?! No- "Mr. Giant...!" Fortunately, she manages to remember what they're here for after a suitable amount of gawking. An "iron" chain materializes wrapped around the module; she dives out the new hole and against the current of the onrushing water, somehow managing to swim against it and emerge outside. "Pull on this, please!" she says to Red Giant- at least, that's probably what she says around the bubbles, as she hands him the middle of the chain. With his help, the module will be tugged out the hole and free of the ship! Meanwhile, Rita herself takes the other end of the chain and soars straight up to the surface in that way divers really aren't supposed to do, hooking it onto one of the penguins' cranes above and giving them a thumbs-up!
Shotaro Hidari	"That's Kamen Rider W," the Kamen rider corrects Xion right now. Elsewhere, the Frog and the Snail try to help Rita pull the chain. They're not very helpful, but thry try so hard. Akiko is unhelpfully shouting encouragements!
Liza Grier	Surely, the coast guard could never have anticipated: Senator Wario's absolutely garbage shitass security coding being injected into their systems. Just the absolute worst. The kind of thing only a man with a mountain of gold could spend so little money on. Forte's continued presence is almost irrelevant. None of the weapons on the ship can fire, and at this point, people are having to jam the bilges on purpose and swap the ship over to some diesel-alike to rule out the malicious hacker detonating them in a giant reactor fireball. Red flares shoot up from the ship as someone finally finds and loads an unnecessarily fancy emergency signal gun, fired from the deck in glorious analogue so that the remaining craft and the beach boys can see it. Those still on the water turn back immediately, no doubt heeding a recall and regroup command. This is also something that the troops on the beach are all too glad to heed, as they start getting absolutely rinsed by a fedora-wearer, a femboy, and an Australian college girl. Staggering around under suppressing fire they can't actually see but are pretty sure exists, only a couple have the presence of mind to fire a few hip shots at Xion, apparently using fancy energy rifles that have been utterly useless so far, while running up to haul away the few she'd shot in the chest. Since they're still groaning, it's probable that thickest part of their suit is up to withstanding an AK picked up from a suspicious penguin, but it's the thought that counts. Shotaro getting in the toku brawl hole with the remainder of them trades fisticuffs for rifle butts, and toku sparks for flying uniformed bodies. A few more shots come his way, but they can barely be aimed in all of Candy's chaos, never mind massed. Some officer type even draws what would look like a tactical mall ninja katana off his belt if it didn't have a glowing blue edge, and takes a few choreographed and yelling swings at him, but the last of his group is chased off by penguins in shades, now lined up like a mafia firing line, quacking and blasting indiscriminately into the sandstorm with shotguns and submachine guns. They haul ass back into the hovercraft, and speed away just as fast as they'd come, screaming something about terrorists into their radios now filled with garbage ten second microgame music. Liza exits the shipping container shack, having just managed to equip most of a guard suit, three-eyed helmet under one arm, stupid officer sword in another, and arrives with the comedic stumble-check timing of someone realizing it's already over before they could put their metaphorical makeup on. "Huh." A beat. "Well, let's launch." What she means by that comes up not long after. Inside the sunken derelict, the floor pries open with exactly the sound of one empty compartment and one flooded compartment exchanging fizziness, and the last module fultons right out of the Hole of Solved Science. When Rita arrives at the surface, Rita's thumbs-up is reciprocated with a flippered salute, and then she is (somehow) flipped a large golden coin with a picture of a penguin embossed on it, and then another ostensibly meant for the Redshifts. The module is fished out and carried away in moments. The remaining penguin mob on the beach all crowds into the shipping container, bringing their stuff with them, which suddenly seals itself with a pair of sliding airlock doors out of the shitty corrugated steel facade. The penguins on the platform pile into the crane control cabin at the very top of the mast, which does the same. Twin flashes of light appear, on the waves and on the sand, and with a matched set of resonating, fiery roars, both of them shoot launch thruster flames from their bottom sides, and rapidly abscond into space.
Liza Grier	Liza, still on the beach, waits until she can hear herself think to even continue her sentence. "Well, I said drinks were on me. I thought I'd walk you to that place after and work some magic. But I guess since you guys transformed and shop a few cops, probably best not." She thinks for a second. "Ah, whatever. I'm already dedicating one of the new compartments to a lounge anyways. For guests. I'll entertain you." There is, however, still a badly malfunctioning military corvette, flashing and churning and sparking and burbling on the horizon, near the float mat of the abandoned platform. Crowds of tourists are all lined up on the glass balconies a short walk away, taking photos and posting on social media. "We've got about ten minutes to bounce, though. Anyone not have a ride out?"
Shotaro Hidari	Akiko, is paddling the boat as fast as she can, probably because she mistook a chunk of debris for s shark fin. The small robots hang on Rita until they could be reunited with either of the detectives. Sparks and punches fly, leaving only a single blue-bladed swinging cop left. The blade moves around, trying to show off for the Kamen Rider until W punches the guard right across the chest square in the middle of the chest. He walks off only to hear Lisa point out the obvious problem. "Mmm...I think we'll take you up on both offers," And not because both Shotaro and Philip actually have never ridden in a spaceship, and want to actually check it out.
Rita Ma	Rita makes a precious "oh!!" face when she's thrown the coin, lunging halfway out of the water to grab it in both hands. She marvels at it quietly while treading water- a real gold coin is the kind of thing you hear about in stories!! She bites it to check its authenticity, but then realizes the fact that her teeth dent it doesn't really mean anything, and pouts in disappointment. A few moments later, having clocked a time that she thinks is plausibly human but which Olympic swimmers would envy, Rita emerges back onto the beach sopping wet. "See, Ms. Grier!! I told you we could do it," she says with an unbelievably adorable eyes-shut smile. It's broken a moment later by sheepish worry. "Um, I could swim, but... the closest gate by water is a ways away. Could you take me with you please, Ms. Grier? I'll get dry so I won't mess up your seats!"
Xion	All's well that ends well, as Xion dives into cover behind a gravity-shifted dune. By the time she looks up, quite happy to get out a puzzle cube in cover and make a few contemplative moves as the scattering of fire zips and hisses over her head and glasses the suddenly-relevant and beach property value destroying dunes. When she rises, the group have been brawl busted and booty blasted, sent packing back to the next bastion of Authority. Cheered by the chest shots being non-lethal, Xion slings her Penguin AK over her shoulder and looks at the Beach Party. "Well, it's a total disaster. You know what that means! Fireworks!" Xion turns to Candy once more, as Liza offers hangouts on her ship. For a moment, Liza sees Xion turning, bright eyed and cheerful, most of the way through pressing a Galbadian anti-armor missile into Candy's slender arms. "There's so many possibilities out past the horizon, Candy, but for the ones you can see, I think you should try direct fire weapons. Okay?" She councils, before skipping off the broken sand to Liza and Rita. "Huh? A ride? Are you offering and driving? I hear being a deedee is the most responsible duty of all."
Candy	All of the coast guard clears out. Rising from the top of the shipping container, Candy grins as ass is hauled. The illusions, telekinetic bullying and potshots continue, until they're far enough gone that they can't easily double back. Having harrowed the patrol (and heckled them) thusly, Candy then hops merrily off of the shipping container. "Uniforms kiss my fat ass," he hollers between gleeful lafter, feet hitting the sand, bolt-action pumped triumphantly into the air not long after. Returning to Liza with it slung over his shoulder, he entertains her offer with an excited nod. "Love to!" Obviously, those guys'll be back--and he's certainly not gonna turn down drinks on a goddamn spaceship, besides. "Why don't you keep this as a souvenir, ah?" Evidently, he thinks the bolt-action would look good over the mantle or above the bar of this lounge of hers. Looking over his shoulder, just to make sure (come on they're gone for fuck's sake) he hands her the rifle with a smile. "Lounge'll need decoration, you know." If she doesn't want it, he can easily disappear it. Striding over to Shotaro (once the issue of the rifle gift is resolved) with a smile, Candy playfully nudges him in the shoulder. "Ah, my friend--should have told me and Xion you already had a pair of guns!" Feigning being offended for just a moment, he laughs. Elbow nudge thrown in for good measure, Candy glances around--it would be a good time to get out of here, wouldn't it. Materializing from another of those strange clouds of smoke is the great great grandfather of the average modern motorcycle--several more 'greats' for what Liza would be used to, for sure. By 'a ride out' he apparently took her meaning as this thin-tired, 4-horsepower Motorized Bicycle, from which he entertains Xion's advice with a sagacious nod. "Oh, yes, yes, my friend--I knew your head was in the right place the minute you let me know about the anchors," says Candy in response, wrinkling his nose playfully. Yet leaving won't be as dramatic or cool looking as he'd hoped, because only after several embarrassing attempts to get traction on the beach sand, spewing it everywhere amidst frustrated swearing from Candy, does it take off. Buried partially in the sand, it waits, placed strategically so that she might find it. 'It' in this case is a nice little wrapped bowl of something for the road. There, waiting in Rita's path, is a bowl of jumiles to tide her over until she gets 'home,' wherever that may be for her. Candy smiles as the wind blows his hair back, looking over his shoulder to wave at her. He nearly drives the bike into a ditch.
Liza Grier	"Yeah, you actually wouldn't believe how much of a bitch decor is." Liza replies to Candy in the exact tone of voice of someone far too used to making places that are slightly too small --and divide into even increments when you want odd ones-- try to look nice with a very limited number of things that all want too much space. She then says to Xion, with equal, intense truthfulness, "I'm dangerously responsible." And then, lastly, to Rita, with no elaboration. "Of course. I have to show you your new place soon anyways." The Ride Out is being firmly gripped, pulled close, and then whisked away in a powerful beam of appropriately blood red teleporter light, leaving the massive decline in property value and a fifty grand landscaping job behind.