Malandros sat down on the curb in front of the Terrific Terrace. He was running away, again, in a new world, again. He breathed in deeply, and crossed his legs. He attempted to meditate, to sense if he had jumped planes again...
The graceless warrior, wielder of the edgeless blade, prophet of the old religions, writer of fluent nonsense, saviour of soul and song."Uh, eh, ahem," Mr.Smith mumbled, trying his best to form a coherent sentence; for being a large, hulking bot of metal, he wasn't exactly all that confident in himself.
"We shall go through this tun...tunn...tu— large hole here," he said, pointing to the large tun— ahem, 'large hole' that the group was now in front of. "Just stay close, watch your st-step, and do-don't antagonize the homeless derelicts, please. The last time someone was crazy enough to do it... Oh, the horror... The horror..."
Slowly sliding his palm over his face, Tagger — clad in long cakkie-shorts, white rollerblade-boots, (albeit with the blades currently being carried in a large brown pack on his back,) and a white undershirt, with messy, shoulder-length jet-black hair, Tagger did his best to shove Mr. Smith into the tunnels.
"You know...", Tagger said, grunting, "you've really gotta' lose some weight. I mean, come on! You're like a fucking truck! Seriously..." And so, the group headed off into the tunnels...
At the same time, Morandus was busy literally trying to sense the ways of the universe. However, he mediated, scanned, and searched, he soon came across... something. He couldn't exactly be sure of what it was, yet it wasn't... it wasn't right. He probed ever deeper, hoping to discover just what was laying in wait... and not more then a second later was booted straight out of his 'sensing', even to the point where, when he came to not more then a minute later, he found himself with his back on the pavement. However, as he struggled to remember what he had just now experienced, he did remember one thing. He didn't any of the circumstances behind it, and didn't know the how, or the why, but he did know this.
This Earth — this very universe— was not meant to exist.
edited 10th Jan '13 5:15:27 AM by kkhohoho
Malandros sat back up, his body sore and shaken to the core. He had experienced difficulties with seeing other planes and earths before but none had out right rejected him. Then there was this feeling, this burning sensation of an error. "This world, this plane... what ever it is, its dead" He said to himself as he looked around. "But it isn't falling apart, people and animals aren't dieing in the middle of the street, the green-life hasn't dried up..." He was boggled by the sole existence of this world. He sat and concentrated once more, and meditated, he wanted to see why this dead world was sustaining itself...
edited 10th Jan '13 7:18:12 AM by Sanojutsu
The graceless warrior, wielder of the edgeless blade, prophet of the old religions, writer of fluent nonsense, saviour of soul and song.As Malandros further probed into the nature of this world, he could only see one single, solitary thing; a complete black void of nothingness. This only cemented what he had learned in the first place; this world was not 'dead', persay, but only because there shouldn't have even been the possibility of this world's death, as this world shouldn't have even been in existence to begin with. The fact that this world was even existing was a contradiction in and of itself.
edited 10th Jan '13 8:00:29 AM by kkhohoho
"How... how is this possible" Malandros was terrified, every world he had known or heard of prior to this one at least had some semblance of a core, but this one didn't have one. This world into itself was not only a contradiction of reality itself, it was a monster. He stood up and looked back at the Terrific Terrace. He had to tell them, they needed to know of the nothingness they lived on.
The graceless warrior, wielder of the edgeless blade, prophet of the old religions, writer of fluent nonsense, saviour of soul and song.Someone's being nauuuuuuughttyyyyyy...''
A voice suddenly popped into Malandros' mind. Correction; it was less like a 'pop', and more like a massive gong, sounding it's unholy praises of doom. There was a vast amount of power behind the voice, so that much that lesser men would be sent huddling in a corner in the room. And, as if not to disappoint, a man came with the voice, straight into Malandro's mind; an old man, wearing raggedy blue jeans, a brown bomber jacket, and a white undershirt, with a pair of sunglasses, a gold tooth, wild loose hair, and a raggedy white beard. He slowly strode forward with his hands behind his back, as if he was peering deeper and deeper into Malandro's subconscious, grinning manically all the while.
Name's Jake, he finally said. I don't like to be rude, don't you know. Now, since I've told you my name, why don't you tell me your's? ...Malandros, is it? A fine name, if I do say so myself. ...Heh. But I'm not 'saying', are I? Guess not. But anyway, as for why I'm here, and why you're here, well... I think you saw somethin' most ought not to see. Thankfully... wait, no, not thankfully. I was gonna say, 'Thankfully, you don't know the full truth', and then maybe just let you off, with the ol' warning that you'd better just lay off, and all that, lest you want your mind to get raped to a lovely little crisp. Buuuuuuut... you know enough. And I, for one, don't take chances. Don't worry, this'll take all of 5 minutes or so; least it's not as painful as a lobotomy...
And so, the man known only as Jake began giving Manandros a nightmare unlikelike anything he had experienced before. Correction; worse then a nightmare. He pulled every. Single. Iota of memory that Malandros had ever experienced, and tangled, distorted, compacted, and crushed it all in such a way that, if this went on for the 5 minutes that Jake had said he would give Malandros, it would be permanent.
However, such an invasion of the privacy of the mind would not go unnoticed, particularly by other telepaths within the vicinity...
edited 10th Jan '13 2:11:13 PM by kkhohoho
Malandros fell down to his knees, holding his head, his face a mask of pain. "Please stop" he pleaded mentally "It hurts, you are tearing me apart, I beg you, stop!" as he attempted to resist the mental assault.
edited 10th Jan '13 9:32:31 AM by Sanojutsu
The graceless warrior, wielder of the edgeless blade, prophet of the old religions, writer of fluent nonsense, saviour of soul and song.As Scio denied a dark history Mr. Cliche recalled that Scio had been in his mind. Slowly his face contorted into a grimace. It would be better if he talked to Scio about the the voices. He hissed to Scio, "Don't mention the voices to the others."
It comes. The corrupter comes. Don't let it touch the tower lest all reality crumble.Freefall had let her outrage fade as the group continued, looking around for anything her jumpy mind labeled as trouble. She frowned as she saw the groups of people living on the street and sheltering in the tunnels, feeling a pang of sympathy.
"This is brutal..." She'd spent enough time on the streets to be familiar with the type - she'd even lived like this herelf for a while, before joining up with the gangs instead. She knew the sort of despair it could bring, even though she'd only tasted it. These people looked like they'd more then had enough,
And the strangest thing was, before The Fall, she hadn't given a damn about them. She shook her head, turning her attention to the dilapidated tunnel they were walking down.
"I guess the feds don't look very hard down here," She said. "Seems like their style. How much further are we gonna have to march?"
Freefall wasn't the only one paying close attention to their surroundings and the bums who lay strewn about.
In Saltire's case, he kept a closer eye as they crept down the tunnels. The farther they walked, the fewer hobos there were in eye sight. The man in the mask also noticed that they began to slink away whenever they spotted the group.
Maybe it was his imagination. There was no way that could be possible. But it seemed that it wasn't so much the group Saltire was with...
It was that they began to creep away whenever they spotted him.
Spoke to kkhohoho about this. He's cool with it. Can't wait for the reveal.
The hits keep rollin'!"Not long," said the older Freefall, to her younger self in the back. "Once we get through here, we'll be just a couple blocks away from the plant. We head in there through the back, go down the trap door, and then we'll be all clear. And speaking of that, we'd better get moving..."
As the group started to walk out of the tunnel, out into the bright sunlight, with the various hobo's either minding their own business, getting plastered, a combination of the two, ...or instead, warily giving Saltire an ample bit of elbow room. And as the group walked out, several pairs of read, bright-glowing eyes could be seen in the dark distance behind them...
From out of the shadow, (in both the older Freefall's tunnel, as well as Baal's,) they came, slowly marching forward, albeit in a somewhat haphazard, roundabout fashion; their legs would sometimes come high up into the air, only to be followed by a series of incredibly short hops, and perhaps then by a somersault or cartwheel or two. Eventually though, when they could be seen clearly, their true appearance was, at they very least, rather unexpected.
All 6 of them (6 in each tunnel,) wore white, long-sleeved, button-down shirts with red ties and black bowler hats, as well as black trousers and boots. They actually looked like a certain particular hero, with the only difference being that, instead of a black badana, there were instead what looked like a pair of small&very bright red lightbulbs on each assailant, and underneath was what looked like a large, glowing golden cross engraved onto their faces — if they had a face, but all that they possessed were the red light-bulbs, and the cross.
"Hoo-hoo-hoooooooyy—howdy!," said a voice from one of crosses on the bots, one that sounded rather familiar. "You know, I did plan to follow you all back to wherever you all where goin', but I don't think that' gonna' happen. So instead, why don't we sit down, relax, let me skewer you all into giant shishcabobs, and have some wonderful scones and tea! What do ya' say? Come on, pip-pip!"
By now, the appearance and voice had become all too apparent to the groups, particularly the one who the aforementioned voice and appearance matched; Saltire.
Saltire had been at the back of the procession when the development of several robots happened. His Welbey was out of its sheathe and in its in the manner of one with over-trained reflexes and too many nervous nights. One couldn't begin to imagine the surprise on his face when he saw robots in his manner of dress with their strange and disturbing locomotion moving towards them.
He could have handled that, in spite of all that was happening. The man in the mask was focusing on the the present; what was happening now and a bit of what will happen in the near future.
His finger was just about to pull the trigger when he heard the voice from one of the robots. Saltire felt the kind of surprise one would feel when facing a set of unpleasant circumstances; like an officer worker about to be fired or facing a review or hearing his own voice from the future.
So he couldn't e blamed for this reaction.
"What. What the CHRIST."
The hits keep rollin'!"I think we might want to go back," Kara suddenly said, causing everyone in their group to stare at her.
"Uh...why?" Alex asked slowly.
"Someone's in trouble back there." Kara explained, "It's almost out of my range, but I can sense it...It's Malandros."
"Really?" Alex grumbled, "We can't save everyone, you know. And if we don't get moving soon, we're going to get nailed. Damn it, trust me, I know how this works."
"Yeah, but you don't know me!" Kara flew off.
Alex sighed. "Look, I really need to see what her issue is, so you bunch go ahead. I know this city well enough to catch up." At least, she hoped she could...
Expergiscēre cras, medior quam hodie. (Awaken tomorrow, better than today.)Meanwhile, in Older Freefall and Saltire's group...
"Christ!", said another one of the robots. "A fitting term, when ya' think about it. Christ, according to some, is God, and I reckon that I've surpassed God himself! Hooooo boy, let me tell you, when Scio and his boys strapped me down on that operating table, I was mighty scared. But now, I'll outlive all of 'em! 'Course, it did cost me some... expendables, you could say, but so long as I got my boys," he continued, lifting his arm wide towards the rest of the bots, while using his free hand to point with his thumb, straight at his chest, "that won't be a problem."
He then seemed to momentarily halt for a moment; his eyes dimmed for a short while, before restoring themselves. As soon as his eyes were glowing once again however, his head swiveled right towards Saltire, and it seemed as though he were glaring at him. It seemed to go on and on, as if the two were locked in an eternal struggle that no-one could truly comprehend; as if all hell could break loose any moment; as if the robot, any second now, was about to reach out with it's cold metallic hands, and strike—
"Tea?"
You know, thought Jake, you really should've well enough alone. So long as you kept your eyes off this world, you'd be doing whatever in the time that I'm talking to you right now. Shame, that. Ah well! Moranud's memories continued to twist and contort upon themselves, several times over in fact, and it seemed that there would be no end to the onslaught. However...
Hm? Inside the depths of Morandus' mind, he could sense... something or another, coming his way. Heh. The ghost girl. ...Waitaminute... A gleeful, dangerous smile slowly creeped onto Jake's face. He then discorporated his astral form from Morandus' mind, and weakened the defenses just enough so that Kara could break in, but at the same time, still have to work for it. He didn't want to make it seem too easy now, did he?...
edited 16th Jan '13 5:23:45 PM by kkhohoho
"Just great, here it goes our covert operation. Not that it was very covert by this point, but still." Baal chided as he looked at the ...things... that were tailing him. He raised an eyebrow in response to their menacing gait. But he wasn't fearful of the things.
He was annoyed. "More humanoid puppets. Don't they ever learn?"
He then added. "I don't even have time for this, let's move. Can someone deal with them?"
[I HAVE NEVER BEEN A FAN OF YOUR PLANETS 'TEA'.] Arguma said.
Once he was done talking, Arguma raised his weapon and opened fire on the robots.
The bot nimbly dodged Arguma's blast with ease; standing on one hand, it taunted Arguma, making a 'raspberry' sound. "Na-na-naaaaa-na! You-can't-catch-me!" However, before the bot could add injury to insult, it completely halted every single movement for a brief moment, and then, after getting soundly back on both feet, tipped it's hat to Arguma. "Sorry," it said, "But I've got new orders. You're getting away this time. ...Damn it..." And so, all of the bots walked off...
The bots of the older Freefall&Saltire's end did the same.
"I'd go after them," said the older Freefall, "but we don't have the time or luxury of that. 'Sides', the plants just a block away from out of here. Let's go..."
And meanwhile, back on Mr.Smith&Taggar's end...
"Here we are," said Smith, after the group had made their way through the tunnel. Sure enough, they were now standing right in front of a giant power plant. They didn't know this at the time, but the older Freefall's group had just arrived as well, albeit a block away, and in a differnt direction. Baal's group would soon be arriving as well, though again, he had no idea of this.
"Let's head in then, hm? Where it's nice and safe, and quiet..." And so, he led them through the plant's doors...
Freefall had noticed the homeless men and women giving their group a wide berth. She hadn’t thought it unusual – in this world, they had ample reason to steer clear of supers, it seemed. They did seem to be eying one member of her group especially warily, however. She had glanced over at Saltire, raising one eyebrow. Maybe his alternate version was well-known around here?
A paranoid glance behind prompted Eva to spit a string of curses. She spun around as the familiar red lights emerged from the tunnel behind them.
“The tin cans want round two!” She growled, cracking her knuckles as Saltire drew his revolver – only to raise one eyebrow as a familiar voice sounded from the bizarrely dressed robots. Well, I guess that explains the locals…” Freefall settled into a ready stance, lowering her gravity in preparation for the fight ahead – only to straighten up as the robots up and left.
“What the hell was that?” She said incredulously, glancing over at her older counterpart. “Won’t they report where your base is back to the feds?” She asked, still rubbing her knuckles. The sudden retreat of the machines had left her unsettled. She felt like punching something, and she decided to keep her gravity field ready to go for the rest of the trip. She glanced over at Saltire. “And do we have any idea why they sounded like you? Or, you know, like complete bell-end versions of you?”

"That doesn't sound good," Kara noted, "Of course, my counterpart isn't acting like me either, so it could just be nothing. We'll see."
Alex nodded as the two continued to talk. Unbeknownst to Rachel, Kara had mentally been filling her in on who Rachel was at the same time she'd been talking. Given how scatterbrained the ghost girl seemed at times, Alex found it surprising she could do both.
"I heard that."
Alex snorted at that one.
"By the way, Alex," Kara continued, "We need to make sure we're the ones to face down Comedy in the end."
"Why?" Alex thought.
"Because, if he's really a hyper-powered telepath, only telepaths like us could stand up to him. Me, you, the other Matthew and the other me, and Scio are all that we have. Anyone else would just be defeated."
"Okay." Alex was not happy about this, but Kara did have a point. Sighing, she walked on, trying not to think about the fact that it might all come down to her...
Expergiscēre cras, medior quam hodie. (Awaken tomorrow, better than today.)