2420/WoS: Another Day in the Sprawl

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WoS: Another Day in the Sprawl
Date of Scene: 09 June 2015
Location: Slum Urbania
Synopsis: A conflict in the cyberpunk dystopian city of Denver in the Sixth World revolves around a gang that proves to be the only connection to the attack that sparked the formation of the Shivan Confederacy. What will people do in order to secure those secrets... or bury them forever?
Cast of Characters: 571, 626, 627, 633, 655, 666, Lyria Mason, 675, 794, 805, 808
Tinyplot: Warlords of Shiva


Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
The Denver Free-Trade Zone is the core of a massive conglomeration of native and corporate interests that has created a utopia of capitalism and technological achievement.

At least, if you're on top. The bottom side is an oppressive slumlike atmosphere where desperate people work to try to make a nuyen amidst the gangs, rampant corruption, and more esoteric, unknowable dangers. Because magic is alive and well here, and threats both magical and mundane hide here, preparing to strike at the unwary. The world has become a mishmash of the old and the new, where mages and shamans stand beside cybernetically-enhanced street samurai, where vehicles are controlled by the power of your mind, ancient spirits and beasts of mythology lurk in the shadows, and /everything/ is for sale.

Welcome to the Sixth World, chummer.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
One of those gangs who live in the Denver Free Trade Zone, making their living as only a gang can (via extortion, the occasional arson, looting, burglary, and mercenary work), is the Death's Head gang. Made up exclusively of Orks and Trolls, metahumans who had returned along with magic, they have banded together to watch each other's back.

Life isn't so good for the gang, however. They were offered a job. A weird job. A job to go loot a place on another world full of vikings and angry Russian-types. They could keep anything they took and the pay was fantastic on top of it. They took the job.

It was the worst decision they made in their lives. Flambe Sam was disintegrated and Grendel ended up getting caught, stripped by the Vikings, and left out in the wilderness of shiva to die. Harald Wolf-Lord vowed on Multiversal TV to get revenge at a press conference.

They laid low. Now, the five remaining members of the Death's Head Gang are starting to relax a little. It's been months since the announcement, surely they're not so worried about it now? How much heat can someone possibly keep up? Their sources say everything is clear... and it's time to get back to business.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
And so it is at a Stuffer Shack, HAMMER, a Troll that seems as much armor as gnarled flesh, KUNG FUBAR, a stylish Troll wearing a suit and white headband, ED, a grimy Troll in a black coat and oil-stained overalls, GRANDPA, an Ork who sits in his chair with a stick and wearing a vest, both festooned with tiny dolls, knick-knacks, and fetishes, and SKULL, the heavily chromed Ork leader of the gang, have gathered to celebrate going back active again by extorting all you can eat Stuffers from the Shack. A pile of greasy soyburgers and cola cover the table.

Unfortunately for them, Shivans are goddamn vindictive. They were just waiting for just this to happen. On top of that, what they don't know is that there's an independant hit out on each of them, paying a good sum for their lives. Those who are interested have been able to track them here. A group of shadows loom on nearby buildings, looking down at the Shack.

This is about to get ugly.

INITIAL OBJECTIVE OPTIONS:

CAPTURE DEATH'S HEAD GANG MEMBERS FOR INFORMATION - Whether Union or Fed, if you want information, you'll need to get either a live member of the Gang out of there or have a way to extract information from a dead man.

HELP THE SHIVANS - Or maybe you just want to assist in vengeance. This is a good way to score points with the Shivan Confederacy.

KILL THEM ALL - There's a bounty put out by... Someone... for each of their heads. They want these guys dead. Want to collect? Get your murder on. Cash for confirmed kills.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    Months ago, something rather unprecidented happened on Galianda: extraversal forces came in and attacked a Shivan dome. The first of such incidents, it'd caused quite a lot of stir with the locals-Kyra would know, she witnessed it first hand. Afterwards an attempt had been made to follow up on the strangely well-equipped, intelligent orcs that had appeared but very little information had turned up for anything.

    Until now. Kyra would credit Soan for his dilligence here. But ultimately, only some interrogation, she felt, could really reveal why a bunch of these orcs had come so far afield to hit a bunch of angry, xenophobic vikings.

    In the Denver Free-Trade, Kyra...well, pretty much blends right in, being more than at home in a huge, magically-inclined city. She's also pleased that this place seems jaded enough to not turn heads when she walked by with a grenade launcher (actually the CURE-ALL but who can tell?) and a hunting rifle on her. Definitely not alone in that alley outside the STUFFER SHACK, she gathers with the others that have been dragged into this investigation with the objective of retrieving a gang member to hassle. Knowing how Shiva operates, she does know that these guys have a Doom Counter looming over their heads: "It's now or never, I think. I'm hoping that the Shivans are a little too busy with the war right now to actually leave Galianda. But no sense in waiting, right?"

Cirra Constantine (675) has posed:
    Cirra Constantine is running on an almost empty tank. Two days of fighting and using her dark Knight powers have blunted her stoic personality into being mroe subdued and contemplative one. Tracking the orcs down after their attack on Shiva was long and hard, but the shotgun she retreved from them narrowed it down to this city.

    Now the Judge walks in a rain coat and umbrella at her side. One of the contacts she grilled mentioned a gang of Orcs matching the description in the... very corporate restraunt up ahead.

5t"On the contraary, Shivan hunters will wait days for prey to get seperated from the pack where their easily taken down. They're not strangers to waiting for the oportune moment. But you're right, now or never."

Lyria Mason has posed:
This was a world with magic but it was strange world a very messed up world from what she was able to find about it. She also knows how vindicitive the Shivans are givne it seems they are hunting for them. The feel of the water here was bad, very bad like a punch to the face from a native of Titan. That put Lyria a bit off her game. Still she's here and she's also had the sense to get some more local clothing;. She's actually got pants on for once but she's otherwise unchanged her normal attire too much she also doesn't seem to get much notice for her gear.

"The Shivans likely didn't even bother to get an idea about this place. They may just run face first into a local power but we need to be quick. Still the offer of their lives spared and aid in hiding after we get what we need to know might be a pretty good motive with a death squad after them, rught? Then again you do have a point Cirra. They might have been here long enough to pick up how local things go."

Dominic Masoch (655) has posed:
Dominic is here, though due to no longer being Ramuhan Nobility he's dressed much differently than people may be used to seeing him. His outfit today is much more 'urban adventurer' in feel, with him wearing a backpack across his back with something about 3 feet long strapped to it and wrapped in khaki cloth. He's wearing jeans, with a belt, and a t-shirt tucked into it and a somewhat beaten leather short jacket over that. Atop his blonde hair is a baseball cap. Definitely a casual outfit, though generically recognizable as 'Fencer for Hire' in most aspects of Galiandan culture.

He hangs out near Kyra, carefully keeping close to her to make sure he can keep Healer Aggro from becoming an actual problem when the fighting starts, "I agree. The longer we wait, the more chance we have of something coming into the operation that could make it a problem. We should just hit them now and try to arrest or detain whoever we can."

He reaches to that bundle strapped to his backpack and pulls from it out, revealing it to be a long and glimmering sword, which he grips in one hand.

Kaptin Bluddflagg (808) has posed:
     There's gits to krump, and teef to loot, and somebody's giving out shiny gubbins in the process. It's his first day in the Multiverse (or, as he calls it, "Da Big Place"), and already it's paying Kaptin Bluddflagg dividends. If all goes the way he wants, it'll pay more than dividends - it'll pay *mad* dividends.

     Bluddflagg appreciates mad dividends. This is because he can do algebra, which means that he not only knows what dividends are, he knows how to calculate them. And, frankly, dividends are necessary on a pirate crew - you have to pay your boyz in something, after all. That something is usually loot, and that means you need to know how to divide up the shares, and that's a lot of head-math. And if some other git did it, they might stiff Bluddflagg on *his* share, and that's simply unacceptable.

     So, in pursuit of teef, krumping, and mad dividends, Bluddflagg has come to Denver.

     He looks terribly appropriate. The massive Ork Kaptin stands close to fourteen feet(!!!) tall, with a massive metal jaw, a stapled-on iron eyepatch, a black pirate's hat with an orkish Jolly Roger on it, a massive double-barreled weapon in one hand, and a cutlass almost as tall as he is in the other. His Kaptin's Koat - a collection of scrap fabrics, metal bits, and other things - flaps proudly behind him as he walks through the streets. He is intensely spikey, so people will probably not mess with him overmuch. He is also wielding a cutlass as large as he is, which tends to menace people away from being silly in his direction.

     There is an ominous spiky thing on his back. It crackles with menace.

     It is in fact with surprising cunning that Bluddflagg has tracked the group down to their shack. He actually spent shiny bits here, paying off several of the local orcs (who are much smaller than he is by a *goodly* degree, which may have helped) for information. It may also have helped that they thought he was looking to *join* the gang, something he did not disabuse them of.

     So it is that Bluddflag has found the shack.

     So it is that he kicks the door open with a foot the size of a tree-trunk, a kick that will probably be heard several feet away, and points his massive gun at the Death's Head Gang.

     "If yaz gits be da Deff's 'Ead Gang, 'and ova all yer teef right dis instant an' prepare ta get krumped by da notorious Kaptin Bluddflagg!"

     He pauses for a moment, both to let them soak it in, and to allow himself a moment to think.

     "An' if yaz gits *ain't* da Deff's 'Ead Gang, 'and ova all yer teef any'ow, an' kindly point me in da general direction."

Darth Vader (794) has posed:
    A question has been asked by many members of the Imperial Navy: What drives Darth Vader to seek the front lines, to place himself in a position of vulnerability that requires him to handle his goals personally? There is a simple answer, and it is one that they have never, ever received. Many of Vader's subordinates are loyal to him exactly because he is the sort of commander who will not ask anything of them that he is not willing to do with his own hands.

    But it is not a good work ethic that brings Lord Vader here today.

    Yesterday, some up-jumped lizard with laser breath had blasted a hole in his personal TIE Corvette. In the immediate aftermath, the battle had wound down to a close without the need for much of his personal involvement. He had managed to blow off some of his steam by brutalizing the retreating Ramuhan defenders... but it wasn't entirely gone, and too much of that battle was spent sitting on the rear lines being a coordinator.

    This is an effective means of utilizing his talents, and this is not lost on Vader.

    But he has never been one to sit comfortably on the rear lines, and the visceral thrill of being a great beast of a man on the front lines was lost to him that day. Today, he intends to reclaim that... and ingratiate himself with the organization that he intends to, in the long term, exploit.

    Lord Vader simultaneously does and does not fit in. He could be mistaken for an incredibly heavily augmented Street Samurai, perhaps, but his stylings are not quite so crude as the local fare tends to be. He is, even with his (in his opinion, at least) less-than-adequate cybernetics, a sleek and well-oiled machine. Carefully crafted, so that each line and angle gives him the gravity of some hulking war droid.

    He stands upon one of the nearby rooftops, but he is not in motion like the others are. Still as still can be, if not for the distant wheeze of his respirator, Vader could be mistaken for a statue... or some stylized piece of hardware affixed to the roof. To him, this place feels like rot. The lower levels of Coruscant, or perhaps the "nicer" neighborhoods of a pit like Tatooine. In truth, he himself is not unlike a rot, a heavy, dark presence shot through with miniscule lines of light that represents what little is left of his original identity. Like bolts of lightning periodically coursing through a storm cloud.

    Vader remains still, reaching out with his mind towards the shack... and those within. He probes carefully, attempting -- even as Bluddflag barges in -- to ascertain possible identity, usages, relevance.

    The wheeze of his respirator echoes across the surrounding rooftops and down into the gaps of the buildings below.

Alexis Maaka (571) has posed:
    Alexis Maaka meanwhile is more or less at her best. She blends in perfectly with this crowd, being the lone street sam in a trenchcoat clutching a shotgun over her shoulder. The Ithaca is kept on her with a sling over her chest, and the weapon's reciever bears the message 'There is no fate' on the side. She definitely doesn't look like someone who has time to stand around chitchatting with the locals on this op.
This new data frequency since she joined up with the Zaibatsu is /handy/ when it comes to the jobs that pay the maddest dosh, as the kids put it these days.

    Holy fuck that's a gigantic ork.

    Her golden eyes widen for a second behind her shades, as Maaka examines the ork that can only be Kaptin Bluddflagg himself. The pirate is given a respectfully wide berth as Maaka tries not to get his attention. Meanwhile, she scans over at what she assumes to be the Shivan hunters, then shifts her gaze towards the shack where the targets hide-

    Shit. The ork's more or less blown any chance of this being handled stealthfully out the window within minutes, so she simply inches towards who she /assumes/ to be Miss Hyral, after a moment's examination of the white mage and judge, as well as the fencer. "We're gonna have to make a decision fast, kiddies, lest we let the ork get all the credit for us." She suggests lightly, before she produces a couple flashbangs from her coat's pockets.

    Prime, prime, toss.

    After a moment's pondering, she shrugs a shoulder. Fuck it.

    The grenades go into the bar, and then go off with a white explosion of light and loud noise.

    Maaka pulls on a balaclava, then leaps through the window with shotgun in hand.

    Best to just make sure these guys are 'taken care of' before getting out.

Nonon Jakuzure (805) has posed:
"Hmm. I haven't been to a place this bad off since we had to do roll call in the slacker district."

The quip comes from one Nonon Jakuzure, still wearing the pretty obvious pink outfit and pink hat, a skull emblazoned at the very top - a puff to the sides and behind it. Perhaps she is a very young, and very charismatic, shaman in training? Clasping her hands together, she sits on the edge of one of the railings, overlooking the Stuffer Shack - or simply across, or nearby. She didn't /quite/ help the Shivans the day before. Well, 'quite' is a very broad term for 'didn't at all'. So it was only right that Honnouji academy would assist them somehow. It would be too much for Nonon to go down there herself, though it's likely she isn't the only one there in this interest. Staying out of the way - and not attracting too much attention - Nonon decides to act a tad more like her best friend Satsuki. Which is a good way of saying - someone is not enjoying themselves.

Below, a stranger enters the Stuffshack, the human woman dressed as any of the others might, minus a very careful distinction. Two black stars sitting on the side of her 'head', 'shaved' in there. Eimi Haana stands, all but trying not to shake, as she walks into the Stuffshack. The newly promoted 'head' of Theater club had said they could do any act, fool anyone into thinking they are whom they are not! And with a uniform that helps them fit in...

"So I heard the d-deead hea-..." There's a giant Ork before her - which causes her to pause. Her mouth opens to continue before, as luck would have it, she recoils, hands raised, as the flash bang rolls infront of her.

Up above, Nonon smirks, "Sounds like things aren't going well for her~." Oh well. She will have to be replaced, if she failed, wouldn't she?

Soan Sagittarius (633) has posed:
     This is something that has been waiting for several months. Even if you are an expert of sniffing out criminals, people that are REALLY good at laying low, especially in unfamiliar environment, they /will/ remain low until the decide to get their nose out. That's when you catch the Caith Sith. you could, of course, flamethrower the nest, but that's beyond the point.

     Things are boiling in the Stuffer Shack, things are about to get worse. In the night skies of Denver, a glistening of reflective metal soars from one end of the city, no doubt making several air-scanners going nuts as he arcs straight toward the center of attention. What follows is a thunderous series of breaking metal, concrete and plastics, whatever cheap material that makes a Stuffer Shack's roof be so excellent exist, as a single huge object plows through it.

     Crouched, a figure on a three-point landing position, concrete dust and plaster falling around him, lies there. He slowly stands up, unheeding of the mess he just caused, pointing at the Metahuman Gangers.

     His voice intones, metallic, resonating with elemental strength.

     "Death's Head gang." Dragoon Man speaks out, lifting a gauntleted hand. "Your lives are in danger. Many heavily armed men are coming for you." His hand unfolds, lending it out, the lights of the Dragoon's helmet narrowing just a bit.

     "Come with us if you want to live."

Mirielle Edelweiss (666) has posed:
    Trailing behind the Light Warriors with her own 'urban adventure' kit, is Mirielle. If Kyra is hiding behind Dominic, the slight Calculator is hiding behind Kyra. Which seems tactical, until you realize that someone is hiding behind... a White Mage.

    Mirielle practically jumps out of her skin as the huge hulking Ork Kaptain smashes his way in and starts yelling.

    Dragoon Man then drops out of the fucking sky, and... Everything goes to hell.

    Mirielle fumbles and flails lightly, dropping her glasses and beginning to fumble around as Shit gets Real.

    Her hands shake lightly as she scoops up her glasses and re-affixes them to her face.

    And, to be on the safe side, quickly begins casting a Wall spell for her, Dominic, and Kyra.

    "I'm... g-going to find someplace to hide. This doesn't look like a good fight for us!"

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
The Light Warriors consider their options and reminisce about their situation, preparing to confront the gang when Bluddflagg straight up steals the initiative by virtue of not giving a damn about plans.

The door of the Stuffer Shack explodes open as Bluddflagg makes his presence known. The moment it happens, the sound of racking metal is heard across the Stuffer Shack as the Death's Head Gang turns and points an array of personal cannons, shotguns, and pistols at Bluddflagg. The cashiers have shotguns too but they're definately smaller caliber.

But then there's a pause as the words filter through their heads. No guns fire. Yet. SKULL squints, his half-chromed forehead gleaming in the light as the Ork squints and stands up. "Drek, you're huge. What the hell have you been eating?"

ED grunts. "That looks like vehicle plating. How do you even move in that?"

As they talk, Darth Vader stretches his senses. Fear and despair, this area soaks in it. The comparisons are apt, really. All you need to do is mix in a bit of the bad parts of Nar Shaddaa. Okay, worse parts. Damn Hutts. The Gang themselves are easy to identify. Most of their minds are open books to Darth Vader, though KUNG FUBAR possesses a stronger will, and GRANDPA seems to be more powerful still.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
Even more surprising is the sense that there are several others around GRANDPA, other presences, more natural. They are concerned and confused at the moment, but the ID is positive.

Eimi Haana steps in and begins asking questions, but those (and further) questions are interrupted at the pair of flashbangs that shatter through the window and explode with a loud flash and a ringing noise.

The Shivans strike at the same time, Bomb cores launching from tube launches to impact into the wall of the Stuffer Shack and demolishing it. Moments later, a hulking, bearded man lands on the ground, his flesh warping and shifting as he changes shape. White fur grows over his body amd he roars as the Morpher takes on the form of a Yeti, charging towards the shattered wall. A Hunter and Chemist move, aiming their weapons as a Viking drops in behind the Morpher, raising a shield and Axe and howling defiance. "PREPARE TO FACE SHIVAN JUSTICE!" He calls. "SURRENDER!"

"MOVE!" SKULL shouts, and ED, SKULL, and HAMMER explode from their seats, sending cheap soyburgers flying all over the place. GRANDPA is busy clutching his eyes and head, reeling, while KUNG FUBAR seems to be trying to regain some kind of focus for the moment.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
The ground erupts, vines and earth forming into a hulking earth spirit, one of the entities Darth Vader had detected, as it slams into the Yeti Morpher. The pair begin crashing into each other with colossal force, while HAMMER turns and levels a huge assault cannon towards the charging Viking. The first blast almost drives the heavily armored Troll back with the recoil, but the Viking takes the shot on the shield, the impact shattering the shield and knocking the man flat on his back from the impact. He starts getting back up.

ED, meanwhile, charges out the door and into the parking lot, where a semi-truck sits. "You Russian bitches want us, find. you play with fire, prepare to get burned!" He gets in, and slams the door shut, pulling a cable from the dash and plugging it into the side of his head.
    The truck immediately starts, roaring, and panels on the side of the semi fip, revelaing spiked, colored armor panels. Rotary chainguns pop out of the sides of the cab, spinning up, armor guards folding down over the tires and shearing buzzsaws pop out of the front bumper. A huge chromed skull lights up on the front of the semi. Along one side is graffiti featuring a single word: MEGAWEAPON.

Dragoon Man appears in fire, glory, and collateral damage. Not that anyone cares, the Stuffer Shack is already almost collapsing from all the holes that just got put into it. SKULL points a shotgun at him and stops as he hears the words of the Dragoon. "NO DREK?" He yells. "How the hell am I supposed to believe you?" He grabs GRANDPA and pulls the dazzled Ork along. "Come on Granpa, get to the MEGAWEAPON!" He begins dragging GRANDPA along, trying to get it to the massive rigged warmachine.

Alexis Maaka (571) has posed:
    First, the orcs don't seem to react much to the flashbang. THis is a problem. There is also a non-combatant in place that is going to get reduced to mulch within seconds if someone doesn't get her outta here quickly.

    The orcs should be here still, so Maaka decides to indulge her inner heroine for once. The cyborg moves with incredible speed as she makes a break for Eimi, looking no less terrifying than a six foot mercenary in an armored trenchcoat and a balaclava toting a shotgun would be as she grabs the kid in her free arm.

    She sprints out the door until she makes a good distance, and then barks out, "Get outta here, NOW." to Eimi.

    Good deed done for the day, Maaka makes re-entry into the bar once more.

    Her shotgun lets off a blast of buckshot as she takes aim towards GRANDPA, noting the staggered orc. Might well take out one of these while he's still jostled off-balance. She can grab proof of the bounty later if she's quick.

Kaptin Bluddflagg (808) has posed:
     The dark hand of Darth Vader touches the WAAAAGH! Vader would, for a brief instant, hear the deafening cry of countless Orks, and feel the faint psychic impression of a vast horde, embodied in the giant Freeboota. Violence without end, a simple, brutal delight in that violence, a lack of the malice and hate that usually accompanies such an unending capacity for violence, and a simplicity of such purity that it can bend the world itself are wrapped around Bluddflagg's mind like a shield. With some probing, Vader might be able to get more, but it would take him actual time, time he may not have to spend.

     Meanwhile, blissfully unaware of Vader's hand, massive Ork looks over the Death's Head Gang thoughtfully, looking at their (much smaller) guns each in turn. Then he looks down at Eimi, who is tiny and human, and not an orc or an ork at all. He considers this for a long moment.

     "Oi, 'umie, yaz not part uv-"

     FLASHBANG.

     Space wolves! Or, something very much like Space Wolves. As chaos erupts inside the Stuffer Shack, Bluddflagg lets out a gleeful howl of delight, a howl that gives a name to the force Vader just carressed, a howl that rings out through the whole of the lower layer and might even attract security if they're particularly curious. The building might even shake a little; heck, one of the windows might go. Somebody might even go deaf.

     "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!"

     Without a second thought, Bluddflagg opens fire with Da Shootamajig, emptying it into the bar as everything goes completely batshit. Sure, he can't see, but when has that ever mattered for Orkish accuracy? The explosive-shelled machine-shotgun pours ammo out of its 'clip', despite its nonsensical and junky-looking design, as Bluddflagg waves his cutlass furiously through the bar, and possibly into one of the Shivans. Whether this is on purpose or not is impossible to say.

     As his eyes and ears clear, the Warboss rounds on ED. "OI! YAZ NOT GETTIN' AWAY FROM KAPTIN BLUDDFLAGG!" Without a second thought (and likely getting *shot* in the process, something that frankly doesn't bother him in the least), Bluddflagg goes racing after ED.

     On foot.

     The Warboss howls his mighty WAAAAAAGH again as he chases MEGAWEAPON like some sort of massive juggernaut that nonetheless happens to be *surprisingly* fast. In fact, he is scary-fast. He's like a train: those muscles are *the size of treetrunks*, after all.

     "Git back 'ere! I'z not done krumpin' yaz yet!"

Cirra Constantine (675) has posed:
    First a giant ork, then flash bangs. There was some other girl in there too but Cirra doesn't care about her. She squints at Alexis, the girl's impulsiveness rubs her wrong. Fortunatly Dragoon Man evens things in the retrieval team's balance and the target orcs run out of the shake. One goes into the big rig, turning it into a 1980s toy battle station. "Move in." She instructs Kyra and Dominic and Mireille if she feels like listening.

    The Judge comes racing out of the alley, looking for all the world like a woman running from the sounds of explosions. Only she's running towards the stuffer shack. She lifts up her umbrella and hooks it around SKULL's wrist, holding up GRAMPA and twists as she slides past, aiming to remove his arm from supporting GRANDPA. "I'm afraid one of you will have to come with us. The rest of you are welcome to say behind and deal with the Shivans."

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "Well so much for THAT." Kyra scowls as Bluddflagg thunders in, leaving Kyra scrambling to get both hands on her rifle. It's already been loaded with tranquilizer rounds prior to showing up here, saving more much-needed time. "Prioritize GRANDPA. He sounds smart because they're calling him GRANDPA. Alternately, they call him GRANDPA because he's senile but you don't get to hang around ultraviolent orc raider gangs because you're senile."

    Kyra glances b ack to Mirielle. "Hey, go for some high ground if you can." she suggests. "Give us some spotting, that'll keep you out of dodge of nastiness."

    With Dominic as cover, Kyra advances with Cirra. For now, she's going to ignore the Angry Vikings smashing themselves up against the other Death's Head members.

    Lifting her rifle, she fires off a pair of shots ahead-one tranqulizer for GRANDPA and one tranquilizer for SKULL. Hopefully, it'll make Cirra's orchandling a bit easier.

Dominic Masoch (655) has posed:
    Being a White Mage's protector is a heavy responsibility, anyone can tell you that. Double-so if the White Mage is also paying half the rent on your new apartment. The Fencer keeps close to her, thankful to Mirielle for putting the Wall spell around the three of them.

    When Mirielle turns to go, Dominic stops her and then says, "Hey. If you need me. If you get ambushed..." He takes out what looks like a handgun, "This is an MP Flare. Just shoot it straight up and call for me on radio. I'll circle back around to come get you, okay?" He says to the Summoner clearly, adding firmly, "REMEMBER THAT. Shoot. Air. Call for me."

    With his sword out, he moves to point to cover Kyra. As she launches a sedative dart at GRANDPA and SKULL, he rushes in at high speed. His blade seeps with a purple aura, Sleepblade coming into effect as he tries to tag them both with a second dose of 'go to sleep'.

Darth Vader (794) has posed:
    Most intriguing. That individual is surrounded by a small swarm of non-corporeal entities of some kind, but Darth Vader is unable to identify them in detail. There is another being, however, whose psychic power is of a... similar but nonetheless different nature. A network of beings working in concert, their voice thunderous but not particularly unique. He withdraws his attention from the WAAAAGH, but decides that he will remember it... and the individual to whom it is attached. That kind of networked power might be of use, and it is certainly nothing to take lightly.

    Fortunately, it seems to be approximately doing what he needs it to: Dealing with all of the heavy machinery. As much as he would like to go ripping after that crude monstrosity of a vehicle, the fact that it's being handled for him is to his advantage. Alas, it may mean that he will not receive the sort of visceral experience that he was hoping for... at least in the short term. So things go, when there are so many interfering parties.

    Vader takes two heavy steps towards the edge of the building upon which he has acted as little more than a particularly animate Gargoyle. A gloved, mechanical hand stretches out as the Sith Lord begins to exert his not-insignificant will upon his environment, calling up a great telekinetic force... not unlike the steel fist grasping at the air before him.

    His target is GRANDPA, the one with disembodied intelligences swirling around him like a cloud of fireflies, and his aim is to lift the elder gang member up off of the ground and beyond, up towards the rooftop upon which he is perched.

    Vader is not gentle in this endeavour, but for the moment he IS making an attempt not to kill Grandpa outright.

Soan Sagittarius (633) has posed:
     Obviously, they wouldn't listen. And honestly, Soan can't blame them a minute. Shit is going really bad, with tons of 'attention' coming in the shape of sharp implements or blunt bullets coming their way, he wouldn't be inclined to believe it too. DRAGOON MAN don't even get to answer as things starts to shoot, bullets flying. The young ifriti does the completly sensible thing, taking in the decision of the team to focus on a few of them -- and that gets in the way when people starts firing buckshot at them.

     DRAGOON MAN leaps into the way to cover for GRANDPA, a massive greatspear appearing his his hands as he spins it to attempt deflecting the buckshots. This has about as much effect as you might imagine, yet manages to deflect a few. The rest imbedes themselves into his armor, sending sharpnels of his spectral metal around. The Shivans... will need to be taken care of later. For now: survival.

     "This is simple!" Dragoon Man shouts, taking in a deep breath, red lights gathering in his chest through his armor. "THEY want you dead and /I/ took buckshots for you!"

     The Armoured man breaths out a large gout of flame, aimed outward at the various assailant, Shivans or other bounty hunters that wants them dead. He, too, kinda want them /dead/, but they have information they need. After that, well, whatever.

     This Stoufer Shack, thought? It's going to be gone. No more, after they're done.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Madness is the order of the day as not only the Shivan's show up but the strange Ork, and evne more attackers. A lot of other people want these runners all dead. She'd rather get them alive herself but as the Shivan's show up? She gets an idea. She hears that Kyra is bringing up whom to capture and she's also moving in. With Kyra oiff with Cirra and the cover provided drom dominc and the others?

She turns her attention to the Shivan assault team and they are going to get something horrible lobbed thier way. It looks like a grenade but it doesn't explode it just playing the worst possible boy band music from Galendia at unbearable volume which she'll follow up with several shots from her pistols.

Nonon Jakuzure (805) has posed:
Eimi is not helped as a man falls, crashing through the ceiling, nearby them. A giant ORK stares her down. Then a metric load of weaponry between the forces about her suddenly is unsheathed and loaded. Even the two-star uniform she is wearing wouldn't protect her from all this if she got caught in the cross-fire! The flash-bang seems to be a mercy, Eimi unable to hear or see anything - being pulled directly out of the building by someone else - one that she can't see or hear. "Let me GO. Let me GOOOO! I didn't know it was going to be this bad!" She flails and struggles, but she is easily carried/lead out. Once out of the Shack, Alexis would notice something if she saw what Eimi was wearing before. The bodysuit and jacket? Gone. Replaced by what seems to be some kind of Sailor suit, military like, with two black stars on the side of it.

If she is familiar with Honnouji at all, that means there's more. Specifically at least one more.

As Eimi, blind as a bat, pulls herself out of the crossfire, Nonon stands at attention, leaning over the railing to see things as they occur - after the bright flash. There's a loud, resounding, WAAAAAAAAGGGGH which causes Nonon's eyes to open wide. Not out of fear - but rather out of irritation. The sound is like fingernails against a chalkboard, though she is forced to lean backwards and away the moment the gunfire accompanies it, some of the shot digging into the walls below her. Nonon is so close, ready to leap out from her position when someone states 'hey, go to the high ground'.

A bright grin, starting small and growing across her face, eclipses it as she simply waits for the prey to come to her~. Vader, obvious in his actions, is noticed - but he's a big wig, isn't he? He should be fine. She might be here, even, to support him! Staying atop a building close by, on the railing of one of the multi-floor ones, the pink, and small, Honnouji chairwoman may just be waiting for her chance!

Mirielle Edelweiss (666) has posed:
    Mirielle accepts the flare, nodding, her look dark and afraid. "Thank you, Dominic. I'd really rather not take another axe to the chest." She murmurs, as EVERTHING goes to SHIT. MEGAWEAPON is rolled out, spirits go everywhere...

    The Calculator bails, though there's not many places TO bail. The shack is ruined, and the rooftops... Mirielle knows her Dark Presences, and one of the worst she's gotten so far. She feels the hairs on the back of her neck. Not only was there a dark presence, but she was being /watched/, too. Clutching the flare to herself, she heads into a nearby alley, trying to find a way high up. Kyra said she could support from there, but the numbers... Weren't looking good.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
The carnage moves to the parking lot as Cirra, Kyra, and Dominic move to interfere with SKULL's extraction of GRANDPA. Cirra's looping maneuver causes SKULL to let go of GRANDPA, causing the older Ork Shaman to stumble to the ground just as tranquilizer darts strike the pair of them. The dart hitting SKULL lodges in thick armor, while GRANDPA's lack of armor works against him, giving him a dose of Kyra's powerful sleep drugs. Dominic's Sleepblade is more the opposite, as he doesn't NEED to penetrate the armor to impart the technique's somnambulent touch. Skull grunts, grabbing his head as he slurs, "You... You're not gonna.. take him!" He pulls out a patch, slapping it on his neck. Whatever's in it must have been impressive, as the chemicals inside begin combatting the tranquilizer effects. He roars incoherently, high on stims as he begins unloading his own shotgun into Cirra.

As this happens, the walls start getting huge chunks blown out of them from the Shootamajig. The order counter of the Stuffer shack is obliterated and one cashier has the unfortunate luck of getting tagged by the powerful shot. DocWagon won't be saving /that/ one. The rest of the employees, by now, are running for their goddamn lives. The VIKING was thankfully on the floor, but the NATURE SPIRIT and the YETI MORPHER both get a taste of that massive cutlass, the weapon shearing into both of them through sheer size and impact and sending both of them sprawling, the Yeti with a huge gash, and the spirit cloven in half. It's going to need a moment to put itself back together enough to get back to business.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
GRANDPA, on the verge of unconsciousness, stares at the ground. "I'ma not gonna let this happen... We gotta stick together. It's all we got." He reaches out, looking through the holes in the Stuffer shack wall and into the back area where foul soyburgers burn on unattended grills and thick oil boils in deep fryers. "Come on. Give us a hand." He reaches out, and a powerful call surges through the spirit world as Grandpa uses his magic, moments before Alexis tries to tag GRANDPA with her shotgun. DRAGOON MAN, however, tanks the shot for the Ork Shaman. He is unable to thank DRAGOON MAN, however, as he collapses, tranqued heavily...

And the sizzling grill set and fryer equipment tears itself out of the wall, metal reshaping to form stumpy legs as it begins hurling itself forward towards their assailants. Indeed, Dominic and Kyra quickly find themselves faced with a Hearth Spirit who has taken the form of that most iconic of Fast Food manifestations: GRILLMOTRON. Fry baskets lash out at Alexis in a fit of vengenance, attempting to trap and pull her forward into that red-hot grill. Come and give it a nice big hug!

All of this is a /great/ distraction for GRANDPA being carefully lifted by Force Telekinesis.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
Meanwhile, Bluddflagg himself faces down the MEGAWEAPON and calls out ED. Facing down that massive, charging Ork, bristling with armor and deathguns, ED answers the call with one of his own. "I'LL GIVE YOU WAAAAAAAAAAGH, YOU HUGE BASTARD! I'M GONNA SHOW YOU HOW WE DO IT IN DENVER!" The MEGAWEAPON surges forward, vehicle mounted gatlings blazing as ED slams the MEGAWEAPON straight into Bluddflagg...

And keeps going, smashing straight through the STUFFER SHACK, the entire building shaking and collapsing from the impact. This finally triggers the silent alarm. Knight Errant will probably be there sometime next week. How's Friday looking? Yeah, okay. In the collapse, HAMMER throws himself clear just in time as the VIKING is buried in rubble..

This is when the HUNTER and CHEMIST act. They both fire, a net and a salvo of magitech grenades landing around HAMMER to detonate around him. He howls, his body beignning to slowly petrify as the STONE BOMBS go off. The net is just insurance. Lyria's own munitions go off, however, driving them back from hauling in the petrifying Troll, who is howling and trying to move enough to point his cannon up at the roof where the attack came from. Well, Lyria bought him time at least. Meanwhile Nonon and Mirielle look on, waiting for their TIME TO STRIKE AND TIP THE BALANCE.

OR something.

Alexis Maaka (571) has posed:
    CRAP

    Alexis is barely able to chamber a second round before she gets charged down by the grill...robot?

    She doesn't have a moment to digest this, sadly, as she is grabbed by the machine and hugged. The extreme heat is protected from via her coat, but she does try to fight to keep her face from getting burnt so badly it'll be unrecognizable on one side as she strains and presses back with her gloves.

    Putting her muscle into it, she pries her arm free before the sleeve on her coat opens up, and the muzzle of some sort of direct-energy gun emerges. Her fist punches into the side of the machine, and Alexis fires point-blank with a sonic blast comparable to a shotgun.

    Should she be free, she'll then let loose with several punches to the body with shock-augmented blows thanks to the knuckles on her gloves, then draws a Glock .40 from under her coat when she gets a chance.

    Bang bang bang bang bang. She doesn't stop until the mag goes dry, reloads, then makes for some breathing room as she levels the pistol towards SKULL. Two shots to the chest, one to the skull. Steel core .40 S&W rounds can go a long way with the right propellent.

Soan Sagittarius (633) has posed:
     This is a cluster hell. This is already a bad enough situation that he didn't REALLY need to smell that dark presence. It may have been there for a while, but that application of power is what Soan needed to discern where it was -- and who it was. He don't know on identity precisely, but what he does know is that it is the same of yesterday.

     And that's something else that need an investigation, immediatedly.

     Obeying to a discussion on the radio, Soan watches up the Ork Shaman being lifted up by telekinetic, crouches, then launches himself in the air far, far upward. His eyes scans the area below him, the massive sprawl of buildings streching outward. Fortunately, his more powerful sense is not sight, but smell (which is damn overwhelemed in the awful various odors lying in Denvers). He spots a figure, up, far. It's closer, not... encased into a vehicle, the raw omnious dark forces spiraling around him. Whoever that is... it is the source.

     Dragoon Man lands on another roof, then relaunches himself straight toward that form, his Greatspear shining back into being, plowing through the air toward the Dark Armoured figure, applying the strength of a vastly vertical jump, to a more horizontal one.

     It is not Chaos. But it's damned close.

Nonon Jakuzure (805) has posed:
Oh! She moved! The book worm moved. Seemingly, it's notable she's not Rolling the lollipop in her mouth to the side, Nonon stretches up and out. The chaos is something she is used to, if not just from Honnouji. Of course it's a bit different. Guns, after all, were a crutch. If you could move the fabric infront of the bullets, why, you may not even feel it! If. It's never a solid thing. "Ahhhh, the wonders of peer pressure.~" She states, taking it rather easy as she steps out from her position and grasps the conductor's baton carefully, glancing over at Darth as she gives him a quick bow. "Good luck, Sir~." She notes, loud enough that he may be barely able to hear it.

She is, if nothing, very obediant when it comes to those above her. Before the BOY BAND grenade goes off, Nonon's eyes immediately narrowing at the source. Flatly, "Someone's taste in music sucks."

Hopping off the railing and then down to a lower level, she reaches the section that overlooks the alley, Nonon watching Mirielle scurry about quickly, heading for what is likely the only way up in the alleyway - though it is certainly empty. Except for her. That, and Nonon, who watches above. She could just blast out the catwalk that leads upwards - but she might just scurry off somewhere else. While she could turn her back on her, there's enough garbage and waste around, especially in an alleyway, to make things difficult.

Waiting for Mirielle to get moving upwards, Nonon takes a step out onto the catwalk, stopping a few metallic stairs above Mirielle. "Stop march!" She decrees, grinning wide - as she holds out the conductor's baton, pointing it downwards towards Mirielle to keep them at a sizable distance she was comfortable with. With both the hat, and being atop the stairs a few steps before her, Nonon may loom over her quite well! "Where do you think you're going in such a hurry? Did you oversleep again in class?" It doesn't look like she'll just step aside either - but perhaps Nonon can be reasoned with? ... Unless Mirielle knows, exactly, where she comes from or who she is. Or just feels that something is /very/ wrong.

Cirra Constantine (675) has posed:
    "Only taking him would be a kindness compared to what you did." Cirra sneers back at SKULL. She looks at where GRANDPA starts floating. "...that isn't us." Then sKULL is hopped up on stim patches, brining around his shotgun. Well thats inconvient.

    Cirra steps back and opens the umbrella with a *swish*, using the large rain cover to knock the shotgun aside just as it fires, carving a new hole in the rapidly deteriorating Stuffer Shack.

    "You can come with him, if you're that put out about it." The end of the umbrella clicks.

    Oh hey look, it's a sub machine gun, in an umbrella amd it's firing. Well at least some came prepared for the /covert/ part of this operation.

Dominic Masoch (655) has posed:
    "A summon!" Dominic shouts as Ankhil - The Propane Accessorizer is summoned to the field in all his fiery, clean-burning glory. He hops back from the scorching fury of the beast and then says, "It seems to be going after someone else. Maybe if we don't attack it, it won't try to hit us," He suggests to his team, carefully gripping the sword in his hand.

    "Look, man," He shouts over Cirra beginning to open fire with a submachine gun, "There's us, who wanna take you and ask some questions! Then a whole force of people clearly here to kill you! At least with us you and your comrades will survive. An unsavory option, but likely the best one! You should surrender."

    As he holds his blade in hand, the edge begins to glow a dim blue while he waits for a response.

Kaptin Bluddflagg (808) has posed:
     That. Is Propa Orky.

     The MEGAWEAPON smashes into the Kaptin with the force of, well, of a giant tank-van covered in exceptionally efficient Orky tools. Bluddflagg, impaled on one of the massive spikes on the van's cowcatcher, has no choice but to accept the impact as the MEGAWEAPON drives into the Stuffer Shack. As the building starts to shake, Bluddflagg looks up.

     "Zoggin'-"

     But whatever it was that's zoggin' is sadly cut off as a massive hunk of building lands firmly on his noggin. The ruins, for the moment, are still and silent. And then...

     "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"

     The ear-splitting battle-cry tears out of the building as Kaptin Bluddflagg, still skewered onto the MEGAWEAPON, plants his feet upon the ground. Muscles the size of tree-trunks bulge with what might be veins, or might be some alien vein-fungus, or might be something else entirely. Da Shootamajig hangs off his hip; Da 'Uge Choppa hangs off his back.

     Both massive hands dig firmly into the sides of the MEGAWEAPON. Fingers clench. The ground below starts to shake.

     As Bluddflagg's meaty WAAAAAGH rips through Denver again, the massive Ork, blood pouring from the spikes dug into (but not through) his chest, simply lifts the entirety of MEGAWEAPON over his head, bellowing his battle-cry the entire time. His back arches backwards; his tree-trunk legs dig into the ground; his arms bulge with the effort. But, emboldened by his battle cry, the meaty Ork is not the first thing to give.

     No, that is the concrete below him. With the collapsed weight of the Stuffer Shack, the improbable balance of the MEGAWEAPON, and the massive bulk of the Ork Kaptin all concentrated at a single point, the concrete floor begins to crack under the sheer focused force of it. Bluddflagg takes a step forward, almost impossibly.

     "Ya Denva Orkz is propa Orkz, ya iz!" Bluddflagg grunts, "I admit it - ya done impressed da ol' Kaptin Bluddflagg! Yer tenacity be a credit ta our species, it be!"

     "BUT NOW I'Z GONNA SHOW YA HOW WE DO IT ON DA DAMNED GREENSKINS! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR-HAR-HAR, BLOW DA VAN DOWN! WAAAAAAAAGH!"

     Bluddflagg swings the MEGAWEAPON like, well, like a weapon. He swings it, forcing the spikes out of his own chest to pop free, directly into the melee with the Grilltron and everything else.

     Then he rights his hat, adjusts his coat, and barrels off after it.

Mirielle Edelweiss (666) has posed:
    "Stop... March?" Mirielle wonders, after trying to scrablebe to the top of the roof, the mousey twintailed Calculator skidding to a halt on the catwalk as she tries to figure out why the heck someone was shouting out band class orders at someone. Oh.

    Oh wait. The orders were shouted at her? From above. From a leering conductor girl, who is grinning down at her. "I believe two things are quite clear. One: You are not a teacher from Alexander Academy. Two: ... There are not any classrooms that would accomidate me in the general vicinity, while there is a fight going on all around us. If you are from the Band Class, you should probably clear out. There's a Judge and a fencer down below that need my help and..."

    Mirielle climbs a bit higher, though stops short of trying to overtake Nonon. "This location is bad. This whole place is bad. Something dark - something I felt before, is throwing everything off. It's closer now, a-..."

    Mighty roars of 'Waaaaagh!' fill the air, causing Mirielle to flinch, and look out towards the street balefully. "And frankly I don't want to be here right now. But my... compatriots are here, and they'd like my help, so..." Mirielle looks up at Nonon, a dark look across her brow and her eyes hidden in the reflected flash of the lights of Denver. It's anime as heck.

    "Please move?" She wonders, panting lightly from the sheer exertion of 'catwalk climbing'.

Darth Vader (794) has posed:
    Lord Vader feels it coming before he sees or hears it coming, as is often the case. His hold on GRANDPA rapidly becomes much more rough as he hurls him upwards into the air. He doesn't need fine concentration to do that, and it will buy him the time he needs to act to defend himself. Unfortunately, it also means that if GRANDPA drops he's going to be in a lot more trouble than he would have been a moment ago. From an outside perspective, the moment where this transition in behavior occurs is BEFORE Dragoon Man's attack jump takes place, but AFTER he has reached a height to catch sight of the black armored man.

    Were Dragoon Man not a being specialized in this sort of aerial combat, he might find himself seized and tossed aside like a sack of potatoes. As things are, he notices a significant alteration in his velocity as he performs his charging leap towards Vader -- it's not difficult to intuit that the cyborg had meant to stop him outright, suspend him in the air as he had with GRANDPA.

    This, needless to say, does not go as planned. But neither does Dragoon Man's attack.

    When he makes contact with Vader, it comes ever so slightly too soon. Vader is driven back, back towards the opposite end of the roof upon which he is perched, but he has brought some invisible force to bear at the spearhead to blunt its effect. The raw velocity reaches and batters him, but the violent impalement that might have been expected is halted... and just before he reaches the edge of the roof from the force of the charge, so too does Darth Vader. The broad durasteel plate that covers his upper chest and shoulders has been dented inwards, and the wheeze of his respirator has sped up in time with his beating heart.

    A hiss issues as Vader's lightsaber springs to his hand and he swings experimentally at Dragoon Man's weapon. It's a tiny, highly efficient little swing that keeps the weapon close to his chest so that he can return to the defense immediately. What he wants to know is whether that spear is sturdy enough to withstand a lightsaber, or if it will melt through -- as it would with most typical weapons.

    Of note, Vader makes a vague gesture with his free hand, which signals the resumption of his telekinetic hold on GRANDPA. This time, he doesn't have the concentration to carefully raise him up. Instead, he is attempting to suspend him, scooping him up from the telekinetic throw he began a moment ago until he has the opportunity to renew his kidnapping attempt in a more active fashion.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "Listen to them!" Kyra calls out to SKULL alonside with Cirra and Dominic, "Because if you stay here, you're gonna get /murdered/. Come with us and you /probably/ won't!" For a few moments Kyra attempts to find a good unarmored spot on SKULL she can hit with a dart-when more hell breaks loose.

    The GRILL comes to life and immediately pounces on the masked Alexis. Just in seeing this, Kyra finds herself starting to sway towards the fray. It was a possessed piece of equipment, she /did/ have a Banish she could use. But the focus remains still on those of /her/ team-mostly. She summons up her white magic with ease despite the utter chaos around her and directs a "PROTECTGA!" In Alexis's general direction, which does include Dominic and Cirra.

    Soan's alerted them all to the fact that someone is trying to gank their GRANDPA. Indeed, Kyra notices that the Orc is floating in the air now and she's /pretty/ sure she hasn't cast her 'easily transport of a giant orc float' spell yet. Scrambling, Kyra rushes over to the floating orc and jumps up to grab ahold of him and drag him back down to the ground.

    Unfortunately, teenage white mage girl muscles versus the Dark Side is not much of a contest and Kyra dangles comically.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Well thing certainly are getting interesting. She sees that the Shadow Running crew is sticking together hardcore at this point but she's got the Shivans and so many others to worry about for now sh'll leave it to the otehrs for the moment. Lyria share a brief thought over the comm. however she doesn't get to say more. She sees that they are down and out and one's going to need to be handled with a soft later if he doesn't get smashed up. She also knows Dragoon Man is here and you don't mess with Dragoon Man. He wants them alive right and that's enough for her. She's gong to go after the Chemist and Hunter which she goes after firing a few shots from her pistol as she does so trying to force them to keep their heads down for the moment. She calls out to the Shadow Runners.

"People want you dead. We want you alive. Come with us and we can work something out even cure your friend hopefully."

She's taking more shots at the Shivans now trying to keep them off the other guys long enough for her to hear their reply.

Nonon Jakuzure (805) has posed:
The Calculator skids to a stop on the catwalk upwards, the smaller Nonon impeding her progress upwards. While not as physically impressive as the Froggy and Monkey, Nonon is never-the-less a thorn in the side to deal with. Not even imposing in the least, Nonon slides out the lollipop in her mouth, tossing the stick off the side of the catwalk as she focuses on the words that Mirielle speaks.

Mirielle gives Nonon the equivalent of a lecture, but all of it quite obvious to Nonon, the smaller pink haired girl clearly unimpressed with the response, though the ever closing distance between Mirielle and Nonon, as she causes Nonon to grow smaller, more equal, in size with her approach. That irritates her. That she would just get closer. That she would /flinch/ as something impressively explodes over on the side. As she speaks about just how important it is she helps her 'compatriots' and that everything is 'bad'. Nonon hmms for a moment, nodding.

"You're absolutely right~." She cheerfully agrees with Mirielle. "I'm not a teacher from Alexander Academy."

The cheerful demeanor falls off shortly after, her voice flat. "So I guess you'll learn the hard way." The baton that was pointed towards Mirielle, as she grew closer threatening to overtake Nonon, now points down towards the ground. Towards the catwalk between the two. "About face, then~! Piano Sonata No 11 in A Major! Accelerato~!" And with that, the music rung through the air - the classical sound of the piano suddenly filling the alleyway, the music spilling out of it, perhaps - it is certainly loud.

More importantly is the that each key of the piano is a note - and each note is /flying through the air/, spinning and digging into the sides of the catwalk. Notes, double, quarter, halves and more as if they were blades flying through the air. The aim isn't so much to strike her with that - but to sever the catwalk. Nonon is not the best in a /direct/ confrontation.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
Ankhil, The Propane Accessorizer is related to Grillmotron The Unspeakable, just... better. This is a Stuffer Shack, you work with what you've got. Well... Was a Stuffer Shack. Alexis and the GRILLMOTRON duke it out, but without any actual vitals, it's hard to tell what's going on here. However, Alexis uses a more general method of just working the entire damn thing over. The grill dents and crackles as the sonic blast impacts it, then is sent reeling as she punches it repeatedly with a multi-hit combination strike. The Glock just adds to the damage, causing it to get stunlocked from pieces of it falling all over the place. Boiling oil from the fryer sprays everywhere, making what isn't fried by it a slippery mess. As Alexis turns to try to put a killshot down on SKULL, she might have a terrible looming feeling behind her.

The MEGAWEAPON is a massive edifice of destructive potential kitted out with the latest in rigging technology. Despite its mass it handles much better than one would think, with augmented engines and cargo capacity to handle the voluminous weight of the armor plating and the stuff in the back. It's inconceivable to ED that anything could survive getting directly hit by the MEGAWEAPON. But Bluddflagg did. Not only did he survive, but as the MEGAWEAPON lurchaes, ED's blood freezes in his veins, an odd situation as he feels the rigged vehicle like an extension of his own body. The disorientation is intense as the wheels and systems struggle to escape the grasp of Bluddflagg, but it's too late.

Much, much too late. With that ear-shattering scream, Bluddflagg launches the MEGAWEAPON into the melee between Alexis and the GRILLMOTRON. The GRILLMOTRON never had a chance. The impact is intense, crashing down and slamming onto its side, crushing the wounded GRILLMOTRON like a tin can. If the VIKING was down in that rubble, he's not anymore, either.

ED himself reels, senseless in the cab of the MEGAWEAPON as it lies on its side, trying to come to his senses and recover the massive machine before it's too late.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
SKULL, meanwhile, gets his blast diverted, and he begins falling back, trying to get out of the reach of that umbrella again as he levels that shotgun...

But then Cirra unloads a submachine gun into his center mass. Alexis' shots, too, strike, the metal-core .40 caliber shot spanging off of the reinforced skull. Does... does he have ballistic grade armor in his /skull/? However, his center mass is not nearly so armored, so SKULL ends up taking two (more) to the chest, and the gun drops from his hands. He looks down, the strength gone from him as he grimaces. "I won't be talling you drek." He gurgles in response to Dominic, before he collapses over.

Maybe it's because he's been shot a large number of times.

over on the DARK SIDE of the battlefield, GRANDPA has been launched up into the air as per DARTH VADER's desire. Looks like he has a HYRAL clinging to GRANDPA, however, futilely trying to interfere. That drop down is looking mighty painful, KYRA.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
Over on the HAMMER side of things, he's become a rocky statue, holding that Panther Assault Cannon with a dramatic pose up at the roof, and covered with a net. Lyria fires at the Shivans, but the CHEMIST is having none of it. "Get out of our business, Levian!" The Shivan calls, returning fire with a lobbed Bomb Core at Lyria! Meanwhile, the Hunter rushes for the petrified Troll, hoisting the heavy load up and attaching objects to it. They glow, and the statue begins to Float, as the Hunter begins dragging the petrified Troll off.

Kaptin Bluddflagg (808) has posed:
     The Kaptin gives ED exactly no time to recover. Whatever one says about the average intelligence of an ork, it's painfully clear that they're horrifically efficient at violence. Stomping angrily through the ruins of the Stuffing Shack, Bluddflagg hurls chunks of building aside, like a great beast rampaging through a forest. Bits of debris go scattering, shattering, and clattering about like a storm of flechettes (though not nearly so deadly).

     Bluddflagg goes around to the front of the vehicle, grabbing it by the cowcatcher. A meaty foot plants itself on the hood of the car, and Da Shootamajig comes undone from Bluddflagg's hip, jammed into the glass. The Kaptin raps on the glass with the end of the double-barreled murder cannon, a wide grin spreading behind his heavy metal jaw.

     "Stand down, boyo, or I'z gonna pump ye full'a dakka like ya'z neva seen 'afarrr."

     The Kaptin drapes his free arm over his knee, staring down into the MEGAWEAPON. "Now. I came 'ere ta krump gits and get teef. Da way I seez it, I krumped some gits, an' I'll get some teef. But da shiny gubbins dose gits is offerin' some'ow pales in comparison ter da paragon uv Orkyness I sees 'afarr me. Dis fing is a fing uv beauty, it iz. Ya Denva boyz be a good WAAAAGH, ya be."

     Bluddflagg looms over the downed MEGAWEAPON and gestures at the vast melee. "And," he adds, "Da way I seez it, ye probably don't want yer boyz ter get krumped, neiva. So I gots a proposition fer ye."

     "Join me Krew, an' sail da Kosmos wiv me! Or don't, an' I krump ye right 'ere an' now."

     Da Shootamajig clicks menacingly into place. "But if ye be wise enough ta see dat I'm da biggest and da strongest, den maybe we can save somma yer boyz in da process."

Alexis Maaka (571) has posed:
    Welp. Lorry outta nowhere. This is going to hurt like a bitch in the morning.

    Alexis doesn't so much as whirl around as she RUNS, making as big a leap as she can manage as she scrambles across tables and chairs to evade the impact of the truck when it slams into the shack. The cyborg knows when she's gotten herself into something way above her paygrade, though at least she's taken out /one/ of these orcs tonight.

    Her optic feed records SKULL's death to send to her contractor later, before she books it out of the shack just as Bluddflagg begins to make his offer.

    Holstering her pistol, she begins to upload over MOGNET to her employers.

    She takes only one step to notice she's taken a large shard of shrapnel to her leg, wincing as she grits her teeth. FUrther inspection of herself reveals a second wound to her side, and another to her back. Sanary's gonna have a hell of a time of it patching her up after this, even if Maaka's doing her best to power through her wounds.

    Now might be a good time to call it a night and make one's self scarce while everyone else is too distracted.

Cirra Constantine (675) has posed:
    SKULL goes down, if he's lucky they can heal him later. Cirra moves across the ruined store front of the Stuffer Shack as she makes a mental note to carry anti-tank weaponry should she ever see Bluddflagg again.

    The raincoat wearing Judge comes around the corner of the nearly destroyed Stuffer Shack and lifts up her disguised submachine gun and fires at the HUNTER trying to pull away the statue, "I think not." The weapon is a Galandian firearm, so it doesn't eject spent cassings. However, the Chemist recieves a thrown knife drawn out from under the umbrella's covering.

Soan Sagittarius (633) has posed:
     Dragoon Man was expecting something strong when he launched himself in the vague direction of the Vileness he felt. What he was not expecting, is feeling his momentum slowed by the Warrior's own dark will. He should have, in retrospect : he is making an old Ork levitate. The young Dragoon grits his teeth beneath his helmet, grunting out in effort as he plows through, impacting against Vader. His attack didn't go as well he wanted it, but a hit is a hit. He can't spit on a hit.

     The glowing light that makes Dragoon Man's eyes narrows at the apperance of the Lightsaber. This is unfamiliar territory for him, meaning he's going with the default assumption as far unfamiliar things from the multiverse go: Do Not Get Hit By Hit It's Going To Kill You. Vader gets his answer soon enough, the Spectral Greatspear is brought up in an emergency parry, the armoured young man taking a step back to give himself some room to deal with this. The Lightsaber impacts against the tip of his blade, sending out shower of sparks, many of bright, unnatural colors that fades away into nothingness, like wisps at dawn.

     Soan grunts in the effort, holding the parry up. He narrow his eyes at the Sith Lord's attempt to resume his telekinesis. He spins to get out of the deadlock, the Dragoon taking a long deep breath, bombing his chest out. As air suck into the dragon-looking maw of his helmet, lightning crackles at his tip before he loudly snarls a large crackling line of electricity at the Sith Lord.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason says "I think not, the warlords have made it my business to get to the bottom of this."

IS the only reply she has as there's a freaking bomb core comming for her. So she's forced to dive for cover as it explodes any lead Hammer might have well will go up in smoke as she got an idea the shivan will just kill him and not even figure out why would a Merc attack their home?

She moves in now changing rounds and moving in on the Shivans. She snapping off shots at the Chemist trying to disable him and making a few shots at the Hunter. She's takint care not to hit the troll, as she now has to drop one pistol and then throws a Soft potion at the troll.

Mirielle Edelweiss (666) has posed:
    Mirielle's climbing, her attitude, and her somewhat flippant attitude costs her. She had been very task focused, trying to get up to the roof to get eyes on that dark, armored magitek man with a rune blade...

    She had been too focused on figuring out if Darth Vader was that dark presence to pay too much attention - or assign too much of a threat - to someone dressed like a garish pink-red bard with a giant hat. Even if she had the high ground, even if she was quite confident, Mirielle's mind was elsewhere.

    And she pays for it quite spectacularly. As Nonon's expression shifts to hardness, and she speaks of teaching Mirielle, the Calculator's expression becomes unreadable as well, but not for the same reasons. The sworl of variables crystallize for her, shortly before the music begins.

    The effect is both deafening and devastating, Mirielle being blasted back into the railing, before the scything, battering notes start eviscerating the walkway. With a groan, the weak, slapdash rooftop access catwalk collapses on the level Mirielle was on and below, sending her tumbling and plummeting at least a story into the cold Denver alleyway below in a rain of low-quality metal. As she falls, she forces a surge of magic outwards, a dark sphere of power crackling and /tugging/ at everything like a singularity.

    This has the effect of softening the fall of the now-scrap-metal, and the weak form of Mirielle herself, who only gets pinned under debris and bangs her back on the pavement, not a 'crash' and then a lot of 'stab stab clatter fall' (now with tetanus filling!).

    The effect of the Gravity spell fades, as she casts her magic out, to complete the plan with the sliver of alleyway vision she has out to the fight at hand. Certainly /she/ is in a bad spot, but beyond the damage and the pain and the being pinned under rubble, Dragoon Man is in a worse situation, fighting that horribly tempestuous dark presence.

    Deaf and stunned as she is, Mirielle understands the numbers at stake. A hero of Galianda almost certainly needing help, and a foolish high schooler who's only mostly entirely in over her head and being buffeted by SWEET ORCHESTRAL MUSIC.

    She slings her Gravity spell, which expands as it moves, in a long arc that settles over Dominic, and then expands. Simple Gravity becomes Gravida, tearing at Dominic and dragging him violently towards the crushing weight of the spell-gularity.

    And as he would close with it, it winks out, leaving the Fencer in quite the hum-dinger of a parabolic slingshot.

    Then, with a sigh, barely able to hear herself think, Mirielle, tries to shove off the junk on top of her, to little avail. "Well at least I'm not bleeding..." She grumbles, before feeling a bit of a wet trickle on her forehead.

    Checking it - yep, it's blood. "I better be getting at least double credits..." She grouses annoyedly into the waves of scything notes leaving her yet more crushburied under junk. Whang-whang-whangclatterbang.

Dominic Masoch (655) has posed:
    In a rare loss of temper and poise, Dominic swears: "Shit. We need to get at least ONE out of here," He points out, gripping the sword in his hand. Of course, his attention is soon diverted off the dead man and the crushed Grill Summon. Months ago, a death would have taken his attention for quite some time. But thanks to someone pointing out he shouldn't let himself be weakened by such things, he was learning to cope (#ThanksKojirou).

    When the tandem effects of Gravity into Gravida hit him, he winces from the crushing sensation but weathers it due to a certain trust in Mirielle as he's dragged into a gravity well. And this is proven to be true when it flings him around and up like a shot towards the roof that has Dragoon Man on it. Dominic takes a deep breath and prepares to land.

    The effect brings him down onto the rooftop, sneakers hitting the terrain at the top of the building and digging in before he rolls to lesson the impact. In a smooth motion, he removes his backpack and lets it drop to the ground. It would weigh him down and it's very likely that would prove a lethal liability if he was going to help Soan out in his fight.

    Beholding Darth Vader gives him pause, though. Something deep down in the pit of his stomach turns cold as a familiar sensation takes hold. It wasn't pre-battle terror, for that he had grown accustomed to as a Fencer. This was the deep down realization, on a primal level, that you might be about to fight someone who is utterly beyond your ability. He had felt the same sensation twice before: Once, on Shiva, against Nox. And the other time in the Land of Steel against Kojirou. Both had been as enlightening as they were horrifying.

    Still, he presses this emotion downward, converts paralyzing fear into catalyzing motivation. The grip of terror becomes the instinct of survival as he lunges forward towards the black-armored figure on the rooftop with a swift pace. He's coming in perpendicular to Soan's line of lightning, trying to press a multi-front assault on the terrifying opponent.

    His blade flickers, the swift and light metal edge first aiming to go low and strike at an off-angle that wants to catch Vader's blade in an odd position. But that is just a feint, since as soon as it arrives there, it flickers again and seems to come in, aiming at the same point but from above. Or was that the feint? Because almost immediately afterward, the blade is coming in aimed at the exact same point as the first two times. The gimmick is: None of them were feints. All three were real strikes in half-second successions.

>Not A Sword Saint
    >False Tsubame Gaeshi

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
Bluddflagg is the picture of a caring, dignified Ork Kaptain, and ED, through a multitude of tiny cameras on the MEGAWEAPON, gets to look at the enormous, hilariously tough Ork from a number of angles in high resolution. The cab creaks slightly at the weight of the Ork's foor on it, but to Ed's benefit, it doesn't bow.

The Shootamajig, however, is an entirely different story. Despite being rigged, a drop of sweat rolls down Ed's face as he sees the huge gun pointed at him through the window. At that distance, even with Bluddflagg's hilariously poor accuracy there's no way he won't mulch Ed with pure concussion damage.

There is a quiet, contemplative moment as he hears HAMMER drop off the network and SKULL die from gunfire. He looks over and up at the Ork. "You know what? Sure. Why not. I'll work with you." He says. "Sit this damn thing up and we'll drive it out of here. No one's going to stop us."

Well, maybe someone could, but Warpgates are awesome like that.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
Alexis uploads her information, and her account is duly credited. There is no signature or ID on the money transfer.

Meanwhile, Cirra backs up Lyria with more gunfire. The HUNTER uses his quarry as shelter, letting the gunfire from both of them impact the very thing he's hauling away. Looks like he's not THAT dedicated to taking him intact.

The Chemist screams when he sees Lyria pull the Soft Potion, and he yells down to the Hunter, "STOP THAT POTION-GGHK!" Moments before that knife from Cirra takes him in the throat, and he falls off of the building to crash into the alleyway. The HUNTER, meanwhile, sees the incoming hurled potion, and turns, interposting himself in the way of the incoming item use! Too bad Lyria wasn't a Chemist, they're better at that kind of thing. The potion shatters and splatters on the Hunter, who grunts and increases speed as he hauls the petrified HAMMER out of the area.

Meanwhile, GRANDPA's fate seems to lie between DRAGOON MAN, DARTH VADER, and DOMINIC MASOCH. This isn't looking good for the Light Warriors.

Kaptin Bluddflagg (808) has posed:
     With an almost criminally casual gesture, Bluddflagg rights the MEGAWEAPON by stamping his foot down and grabbing the other edge of the cabin. Before he 'gets in' (which is to say, /on/, because he's much too big for it), the massive Ork gathers up a bunch of the corpses laying around. He rubs Shivan blood down the side of the MEGAWEAPON like a racing stripe, tosses the corpses in the van, and then hops atop. The van probably groans under the effort.

     Then he draws his cutlass.

     "YAR HAR HAR! FORWARD, ME HEARTY! DA KOSMOS AWAIT!"

Nonon Jakuzure (805) has posed:
With the relentless music ( the piano is the most 'active' of many instruments ) it's no surprise that someone caught unaware by someone so unthreatening as Nonon may falter. Especially when she has both the high-ground advantage and advantage of surprise. It is, of course, partly because of how she is. If she was Uzu or Ira, she would have simply leapt into the fray at the beginning. With this, she was able to put Mirielle at a distinct disadvantage. One that Mirielle had even put herself at by trying to focus on everything else going on around her save the short and quite pink band girl.

It was a drummer's uniform, after all.

Even as Mirielle tumbles down - the swirl of crystals causes Nonon to leap upwards, at attention, giving herself more room if necessary. Even as Mirielle tumbles to the ground, with a mix of concrete and steel. There's a dark sphere of power that /erupts/. Of course she wouldn't be just /any/ schoolgirl, would she? She had a few tricks up her sleeves - none of them towards her though. It's quite /suspicious/, but Nonon is one of simple pleasures. The defeat that she feels Mirielle has suffered, and her obviously disadvantaged state, requires no encore.

The conductor in this case, Nonon, takes a bow - "The performance is over~." She states, a very catty smile crossing her face as she bends forwards to bow, looking over Mirielle's very unfortunate form. "I hope you learned something, Alexander Academy Student. Just an off the cuff performance from Honnouji Academy's Nonon Jakuzure is enough to sweep you off your feet." The mocking at that point ends - though it may be a combination of reasons as to why Mirielle ending up the way she did, Nonon does not seem to mind /how/. With little fanfare, the girl turns away - simply to leave Mirielle where she lay, stuck.

She did, also, speak to a Sanary - it's very likely that one may be on their way to help her if no one else did.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    True to Mirielle's suggestion, Kyra had indeed tossed a FLOAT onto Dominic. She's not entirely sure what the purpose of it was but she trusted the Calculator. Her mind did work in some very unsual ways, after all. Though this float was only accomplished after Kyra managed to at least haul and balance her upper body on the floating orc.

    After casting the float, she resumes pulling herself up, awkwardly balanced on top of the slowly rising orc. Unsure how to really stop it, she tries the one thing she knows will at least stop one of her Float spells on somebody.

    Kyra casts a Dispell on GRANDPA.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
It sure does groan. ED, however, doesn't complain or cause any trouble. In fact, he puts on a pair of shades and cranks the bass, the MEGAWEAPON going loud as it rolls out ORK STYLE with its new Kaptain.

You will probably see this thing again at some point later.

Darth Vader (794) has posed:
    So, the weapon is not completely invincible, but it isn't going to buckle to minor damage. Inconvenient, but it is what it is, and Darth Vader is not unused to being faced with weapons that can handle a lightsaber. Or, for that matter, weapons that can disable one outright. When Dragoon Man yields and draws back for defensive strength, he steps forward to press the advantage and get away from the edge of the building, moving his free hand to the hilt of the lightsaber. There's no point in playing this excessively aggressive just now. This fellow has superior mobility -- that much is plain as day. Best to let him come and answer his attacks with counter-attacks to whittle him down.

    It's not as satisfying as doing things his preferred way, but Vader is under no illusions that he is a spry young man anymore. He can barely lift his arms over his head, and even then not comfortably.

    The electricity is what gets his attention the most, though. That's bad news for Vader, and he knows it. But he isn't defenseless against electrical attack, even if one should strike him... and in this specific instance, he is gets a moment of build-up. It is Vader's turn, then, to yield ground so that he has the space to do what he needs to. The crimson-bladed lightsaber is held out and draws in the electricity like a lightning rod, swirling around the blade in a crackling dance and finally being dissipated into the surrounding atmosphere as the effort of the attack ceases.

    Vader decides that Dragoon Man needs to die /right now/, but he doesn't have the time to carry out this decisive act. A nearby impulse of fear is swallowed to attack, and his senses alert him to the fact that the attack will be coming. More alarmingly, it informs him that the attack will be coming in an odd way that he regards as absolutely impossible. The motions of the attack occur soon after, the path of a blade directing itself towards his own. There is no discrepancy in what his feelings tell him will occur.

    Rather than intercepting the blade with his lightsaber, Vader relies on his armor to preserve him. Durasteel shrieks as the multiple strokes bite into him, cleaving into him along three locations-- the dome of his helmet is the most visible, but the blade bites into his torso twice as well, gashing him and drawing blood. It's difficult to see through on his black armor and robes, but it's there. More visible is his helmet, which has been partway crushed... though it seems not to have reached the man within.

    Lord Vader's counter-attack is as simple and as brutal as can be expected of him. He simply flicks the switch of his blade briefly where Dominic expected him to meet his own, slipping it underneath the Sword Saint's guard and swiping at his middle with every intent to cleave him as close to in two as can be expected.

    The Sith Lord's cry of pain is delayed, owing to the bizarre nature of Dominic's attack... but it doesn't seem to slow him. If anything, the towering presence of his darkness seems to grow from the pain and rage that swells within him. In the meantime, GRANDPA finds that Vader is actually VERY good at maintaining his telekinesis mid-battle. It is, in fact, his primary strategy to hurl debris at people who are too zippy for him to cope with. And although he has been wounded, those wounds serve as much to bring him closer to death as they do to fuel the Dark Side of the Force.

    Below, when Kyra attempts to remove his hold on Grandpa, she will find quite abruptly that it has become fiercer still than it was before. It is beginning to become CRUSHING, pressure gradually increasing as if the person doing it is only just heartbeats away from deciding to squeeze the old gang member to death wholesale.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    This definitely isn't float, Kyra realizes, as her attempts to dispell the effect not only fail but seem to cause it to intensify. She's not entirely correct on this-the fighting between Dragoon Man, Dominic, and Vader has caused this specifically. But as it increases, Kyra finally cottons to the fact that she's encountered telekinesis that is being continually applied. Typically the best way to handle telekinesis was to disrupt the concentration of the user.

    That's not working. Kyra starts to panic as she can feel and see the elder orc being slowly crushed beneath her. Desperate for a way to keep him alive, she first attempts a simple cure spell to combat the crushing damage. It's a panicked try but she realizes that unless it was a continuous cure spell, it wouldn't help. The force had to be blocked somehow.

    "Come on come on..." From a cure spell, Kyra switches to a Reflect spell, usually known for redirecting magical effects completely from a protected target. This wasn't the same but it was worth trying.

Cirra Constantine (675) has posed:
    The Hunter gets away with HAMMER, damnit. This is extremely vexing. But theres till Grandpa, and KUNG FUBAR is out there, somewhere... Possibly escaped. That may actually be good, if GRANDPA dies, they'll have one more chance.

    Cirra turns and looks up at the melee up on the roof, this is bad. THat energy blade is threatening to cut through Dominic and Dragoonman. She had been trying nto to expend too much MP tonight, as the past couple days had been draining on her reserves. But it's clear now that sometihng must be done.

    Cirra holds out one hand, and blade of crystal forms in her hand. The Law Blade.

    The Judge hefts the sword up like a spear as a small amount of black smoke wafts off her body as she burns a small amount of blood for MP. She surges forward, moving thirty feet in the blink of an eye, and flings the sword as shard as she can. The course of the weapon controlled by her own thoughts, it isn't true telekenesis, but rather control of the aspect the blade is made of: Ramuhan law.

    The blade flies through the air like a missile, straight for Darth Vader's back.

Dominic Masoch (655) has posed:
    There is a brief, shimmering, moment of hope when Dominic actually manages to land a three-hit combo onto Vader. He can even see that he managed to draw blood, which fills him with even more hope as the mithril cutting divide shears into his helmet and chest, albeit only minutely. He might stand a chance against this foe between himself and Soan.

    But that is dashed pretty harshly by the counter-attack that is delivered unto him by the Sith Lord. A lightsaber functions like no blade that Dominic has encountered on his world, and this is a fact that proves near-fatal for the Fencer. Because he brought his mithril sword up to parry any counter-attack, when the blade turns off Dominic gets a surprised and shocked look in his eyes. And when it turns back on again, he's trying to dash backwards and away from a lethal strike that passed through his defenses in a way he could have never predicted.

    The burnt, acrid smell of flesh is accompanied by the *vwoomph* noise of the lightsaber descending upon the retreating combatant. And while retreating may have spared Dominic's life, it was not fast enough clearly. Because that red lance of energy shears through fabric, through his jacket, and through the flesh of his own body. From shoulder to hip, it slices and cauterizes a wound that is inches deep and grazes numerous vital organs with its pass. None are immediately lethal, thanks to both cauterization and Dominic's retreat, but the effect is apparent.

    What was once a dash backwards quickly becomes a fall. Dominic's footing loses purchase as the shock of the pure DAMAGE causes his body to stutter for a few moments after the strike of the blade. His heel catches itself and the dash turns into him simply falling backwards onto the rooftop. There's a telling THUMP as Dominic lands on his back in the dirt and gravel atop the roof, smoking from the wound in his chest as he lets out a wheezing noise.

    He knew he wasn't going to be going back into combat with a wound like that. He had, in a single strike, been laid to the ground by a technique he never thought possible and never imagined a blade could do. As he shuts his eyes and tries to shut out the pain, a different part of him begins to mill over how to defend against such a move. How to possibly counter a foe like that. The techniques his foe had used in the first place.

>Sword Saint
    Soresu ... 8%

Darth Vader (794) has posed:
    A sense of immense satisfaction settles into Darth Vader as his blade bites into Dominic, calming him momentarily and convincing him to relax his grip on GRANDPA, somewhat. He does not let -go-, and the Force is not traditional sorcery. At any rate, as high as he has drawn GRANDPA into the air, it may be a mistake to release the effect he has had upon him. A spike of warning rushes through him, and he acts on pure and immediate instinct. Another wave of telekinesis rolls out across the rooftop, seizing hold of the incapacitated Dominic and hurling him near effortlessly and precisely onto the projectile that Cirra intended for him.

    He releases his hold on Dominic and lets him drop immediately upon feeling the faint disruption of the blade's impact running through his seized form.

Soan Sagittarius (633) has posed:
     Dragoon Man is pressed on the defensive rather easily, managing to defend himself with his spear, feeling drained after his Lightning Breath -- breath that was countered so easily by the Dark Lord. He get saved by Dominic, which has the troubling side-effect of Lord Vader focusing HIS anger on the Fencer. In the brief time they are two on one, Dragoon Man presses his offensive on the cyborg, his spear spinning and attacking at keypoints of his arm. He is facing an enemy that is by far their superior, even two on one.

     Yet it takes Dominic getting cleaved, hurt and flung over the border of the building to really send Dragoon Man into a more desperate attitude. The Dragoon steps back from Vader for a few steps, more out of getting some room for his longer weapon than anything else, tightly holding his cracked spear in his gauntleted hands. Think, Soan, think. He's stronger. More powerful, sure. They can come out of this one without that Ork dead. He's doing it from here, likely sensing him through some sort of sensory power, using magic he don't know about.

     Rage builds beneath Dragoon Man's armor. Vader knows rage, anger. This one has a different taste, more... primal. Elemental, boiling into an strange energetic mixture -- fanned by the lenses of a light. The young man is quite angered, angry, but it also seems to be part of the deal. He's trained to use it. This raw elemental force if further fanned by the additional damage on Dominic, with the brutality it was handled as.

     And Dragoon Man has an idea.

     This idea condenses into the shape of leaping backward, shaking the ground they are beneath, then leaping foward again, heading straight on for Vader as he throws that spear, dead center, letting his momentum carry him foward. The young man screms at the top of his lunge a scream not entirely human, more akind to a roaring beast than anything else as he follows the momentum of his spear.

     Then he leaps off it. If he's read the guy enough, he'll either dodge it, cleave it, or deflect it. All acceptable outcomes when you've got flashbangs strapped to the thing, ready to gow off.

     Dragoon Man dares to go around, to grab Dominic dangling and let gravity do the rest on him, willing it to send the chips down his way more.

Mirielle Edelweiss (666) has posed:
    Buried under rubble, the cessation of the music that had been battering her utterly, Mirielle seethes with anger, and hatred, and the cold, slithering desires that always percolated behind the veil of detachment and pleasantries. How dare that... that band-camp girl do this to her? If she just called, she knew that her 'partner' would answer. Patron, really. It would be easy, so easy, to just fill herself with power and doom and darkness.

    Instead, she presses outward, shoving with a Gravity-enhanced push here and there, letting her eye for trajectories and number and pressures carefully peel her way out of the rubble.

    And so she does. Cracked on the head, bleeding, punctured and battered, the slip of a calculator stumbles back into the chaos of the street(s) and buildings of Denver.

    And Kyra riding a man in the grip of darkness.
    Soan battling for his life.
    Dominic, struck with that crimson blade.
    Her plan was a failure.

    It would be so easy to /try/ and fix it. Maybe she could, even. But would that be optimal? Would it even be efficent? What would the cost be, and the benefits?

    She wasn't exactly prime on juice anyway. Then, an idea struck her. The plan wasn't a /total/ failure. Dominic had /float/ cast on him. Sure, it made him easy to get telekinetically thrown around by the horrible dark presence - that black-armored tempest who had been there the previous day, on Shiva. The iron fist, the convalescence of The Math Not Making Sense.

    First order of business: Make Dominic not die to Cirra and also a multiple-story fall, before Kyra could get to him with healing.

    Soan makes this yet easier, with his gambit. Fixing falling is easy. She gathers up her magic, and begins Calculating.

    If Gravity makes things heavy, crushes, and pulls, then inverting gravity would... do the opposite, right? Especially on a /floated/ target.

    Mirielle summons up a volleyball sized orb of magic, and hucks her mathemagic'ed spell into the falling Dragoon Man and projectile Dominic. (Shell/Gravity) - SHITTY FLOAT BALL.

    Useless in most other scenarios... It's a bubble of antigravity. It makes shitty 'bloop' noises when it gets near things, and will even bounce and lazily float around.

    Boing.

    Mirielle has her dirty hands rubbing her face. "I'm a failure. I never want to see that spell again, oh Dark Prince below..."

Dominic Masoch (655) has posed:
    While perhaps normally he could put SOME resistance up towards being lifted and tossed (albeit minimally) by reinforcing himself with Magic Particles, he is too injured to attempt this. Because of this fact, there is no resistance to the movement forced upon him by Vader's split telekinetic grab. With a cry of pain, Dominic is limply lifted up off the ground and moved, hurling him into the path of Cirra's controlled ability meant for Vader.

    Only to be grabbed from the air by Soan! This elicits another hissing breath of pain, although it's safe to bet Soan is much less outright brutal in his grab than Vader was in his throw, so it's hardly as bad as the scream that came when Dominic was thrown. The Fencer is, due to shock and trauma, having some difficulty moving. He manages to wince and hiss out a faint, "Nnn... thanks," Before heaving a pained sigh.

    Both his momentum and his projectile speed are slowed by Mirielle's second use of gravity of the night, bringing him down to a reasonable weight and probably causing Dragoon Man to gain much less momentum from the act of catching him whatsoever. Inwardly, Dominic is very grateful for this magical effect. Outwardly? Mostly pain.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason sees there's nothing to be done regarding the Troll, but one less Shivan operative to worry about. She doesn't think twice over the Chemist as she's now orried about what's going on here. She's going to follow up Cirra and do what she can to back her up against Vader. She's knew he was dangerous, no very dangerous. She was going to fire her pistol and she thinks better of it. She shifts waiting for Cirra's struck before she calls upon her Geomaqncy given this is a city she's going to end up getting a burst of magma hopefully which might catch Vader off guard.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    The orc provides a good vantage point for the struggles of her friends against the Sith. Kyra shrieks as she sees Dominic suddenly hurled towards Cirra's blade, fearing impalement on top of his already grave injuries. But fortunately, Mirielle's interference and warping of the previously cast Float spell spares him from this fate.

    At this point, she hops off the floating orc. She's still unsure she'd be able to save GRANDPA if Vader suddenly put his full Force into crushing him. Furthermore at this point, she JUST realized it was Vader behind all of this, which adds an extra dimension of terror to all of this, having been a phantom involved in the Juno-Galen saga.

    Kyra goes chasing after the casually flung Dominic, trying to catch up to him so she can heal his wounds.

Cirra Constantine (675) has posed:
    Cirra grits her teeth as Dominic is thrown towards her Law Blade, she twists her hand and the LAw Blade swerves around Dominic's body. Which sadly veers it off course for Vader's body, the blade deapperating in mid-air over the roof.

Darth Vader (794) has posed:
    That boy didn't feel as wounded as he ought to have been, Vader muses as Dominic drops away from them, and wonders if he simply did not reach the hurled weapon. He finds himself dueling alone for a time, with Dragoon Man. Two men in masks, one sickly and tainted, the other... presumably young and quite whole. And yet, it is the elder who is holding the upper hand. Small thrusts find their way in, slicing or piercing him on small occasion, but the wounds are not great. Not decisive enough. As if that wasn't bad enough, the rooftop is simply too exposed. He's getting attention from entirely unknown factors.

    Once again, Darth Vader seems mysteriously aware of what will happen before it does... and he has been wary of Dragoon Man's superior mobility from the very start.

    No pain, no hesitation, Vader cuts his own left arm off and hurls it into the oncoming spear while it is still mid-flight... and as for the cyborg himself, he ducks forward and rolls right off the edge of the building he'd been standing on when Dragoon Man had attacked him in the first place. Magma licks his armored body as he rolls off the edge, trailing a fiery cloak and leaving scorch marks on the roof.

    Let them deal with their own bag of tricks.

    In the meantime, Vader plunges his lightsaber into the side of the building as he falls, passing by GRANDPA who has thus far been treated like the flag in a game of capture the flag. Not at all coincidentally, this means that Kyra is greeted with the appearance of Vader coming to a sudden and surprisingly abrupt landing in her vicinity -- or would have, if she hadn't decided Dominic was more important and taken off to heal him.

    The Sith Lord lowers and releases Grandpa, allowing him to fall a short but safe distance to the ground in the immediate vicinity. Sustaining his flight has been a nuisance. It would have been better to simply go to street level and claim him in the first place, with all this trouble. It is of no consequence now, he decides, and applies his telekinetic might to the building upon which he was just standing... and which, in his flight, he cleaved partway through along one side.

    A great and terrible rumble goes out as the old building buckles beneath his power and its own waning structural integrity, at first slowly and ominously, and then VERY RAPIDLY beginning to collapse into anyone unfortunate enough to still be standing there. The damage to the neighboring buildings, given the general quality of this "neighborhood", is guaranteed to be significant, even if a domino effect is not achieved immediately.

Souji Murasame (627) has posed:
Darth Vader clashes with the Light Warriors. In some ways, this is mythologically appropriate, a powerful fallen Dark Knight striking out against a group of would-be heroes.

However, in this case, Darth Vader is not a mere Knight, but a Lord. The damage from thie confrontation will probably persist for months before something is finally done about it. And in the end, SKULL is dead, KUNG FUBAR is nowhere to be found, GRANDPA has been claimed by Darth Vader, ED has signed on with Kaptin Bluddflagg, and HAMMER has been claimed by the Shivans.

But all is not lost. There are still things that can be done:

WHERE IS KUNG FUBAR? - He vanished from the area moments after the flashbang. Where did he go and where is he hiding? And is someone else still looking for him?

HUNTER HUNTED - A Shivan Hunter is moving to try to delvier his petrified prize to the Confederacy. Those who are swift and crafy may be able to stop him.

EVERYONE HAS A PRICE - ED is still alive and well, working with his new boss, Kaptin Bluddflagg. Maybe the Kaptin can be convinced to let you guys talk to ED and see what he knows.

Whatever is chosen, the future is murky. What will this bode for the war?