• What Would Victor Lazlo Do?

Posted: **Wed Dec 04, 2013 9:56 am**

It's been a long time since I last posted in this thread. At first a part of me was anxious to get the story down before I lost the memories. Now I realize that will never happen, they will always be a part of me now. The memories aren't mine but they feel like mine. I didn't make the decisions but I think I could have, just the same.

Looking back at Gloom's tale I am reminded about some of our allies in the battle against evil. Amongst them were a large number of were-folk. From wolves and jaguars to lions and tigers and bears. The enemy had started hunting them from day one. Only a long tradition of hiding from humanity saved them from discovery and early extermination.

Initially there were run ins between the resistance and the clans and tribes of the were-folk. Then as the enemy put more pressure on us, we started to ignore each other to focus on our own battles with the enemy. By the time of the fall of the Montana Compound, circumstances had forced us to actively cooperate for the sake of mutual survival.

While it is very true that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, it was more than that. At the end of the day, we just had far more in common with the were-folk than with the enemy and their minions.

My double in that time and place had come to learn quite a bit about the were-folk in that time and place. As a biologist he learned about their anatomy in all their forms. As a doctor he learned about what made them healthy and what made them sick. As a warrior he learned their strengths and weaknesses. As an anthropologist, he learned about their culture, laws and history. But it was as a person that he learned the most about them. It was as a person that he learned that they were people too.

They're not exactly the same as us of course. They have a different culture and of course their biology is different. So there are contrasts. But they also share a great deal with us. They are capable of reason and complex thought just as we are. They have the same range of emotions as us and they share the same heirarchy of needs as us.

Despite our commonality, there were difficulties in forming an alliances with these people, even in the face of a greater enemy that wanted our mutual destruction. The largest tribes were well organized and accounted for probably about half their numbers over all. But these tribes were quite set in their ways. They viewed humans as only slightly less dangerous than the true enemy. Amongst the tribes there was a culture of bitterness against humanity. The blame for all their hardships and for slights real and imagined were laid at the feet of humanity.

There is a tendency amongst some people to quickly agree that Humans are Bastards and that we probably do deserve their amenity. I don't.

Perspective time.

One of these tribes boldly proclaims that it is their birthright to rule not only the whole of humanity, but the other tribes as well. That's right, they feel that a few tens of thousands can and should rule over billions. They beleive this is their birthright. Worse, they think this would actually be feasible and work towards that goal even in our timeline. They are deluded and rotten othe core with only a few very rare exceptions.

Another of these tribes are nothing more than technological scavangers and blood thirsty mercenaries. Like their cousins above they have no care for humanity what so ever and often disregard the laws of their own people to pursue their own agenda.

A third tribe also seeks power though not through overt means. Instead they infiltrate existing human criminal organizations. They fancy themselves as manipulators behind the scenes.

But not all tribes are the same. There was one that worked with and even protected humanity even before the coming of the Nemesis. A small tribe but proof nonetheless that you can't paint any group with the same brush.

You can probably well imagine the difficulty in trying to cooperate with such a disparate group. And the more I learned about them, the more I realized that much of their hatred for humanity, despite whatever origin it may have had, was now self-sustaining. They hated us simply because they hated us. There is no reasoning with such blind prejudice. Not easily, at any rate.

We had far more success with the independents. Many were feral. Many were criminals. Many more were merely scared, alone and confused. They didn't know what was going on around them or their place in the world. It was with these individuals that the resistance had the greatest success in finding common ground and cooperation. More importantly, they were numerous. By the time the tribes realized that their choice was either work with us or face extinction, we had helped create a new faction that was large and diverse and was working with us as steadfast allies.

While they all had different animal instincts, it was their humanity that allowed them to find common ground and to become a force to be reckoned with. Their intellects allowed them to adapt to the situation. Their compassion allowed them to work together and to protect each other. Their animal instincts made them fierce advesaries of the enemy.

Without their help, we could never have beaten the enemy.

It is those memories that have made me willing to deal with were-folk in this time. And it is those memories that despite what has transpired in this timeline, give me hope that a lasting peace and understanding might be found regardless of our difference.

I do not fear the werefolk but there are times I fear for them.

Posted: **Tue Dec 17, 2013 1:12 pm**

I wanted to start relating how the alliance with the were-beasts of this other time was strengthened but first I think I need to talk about something else. After the battle at the compound where Hannah was whisked away to the Fey Realm, the rest of the resistance believed that I and all my top lieutenants were dead. As one of the leaders of the resistance, I would have to be replaced. While in theory there was a well defined chain of command, such things often become political so I knew there would be a meeting to formalize the new leadership if nothing else.

I’m going to take this time to discuss the resistance itself and how it broke down. At this point in time there was no over all leader of the resistance. There were a number of factions that were more or less working together against a common foe. Many of these factions would otherwise be enemies and occasionally there were clashes between these rival factions.

My faction wasn’t large when it came to manpower. Our function was to act as a force multiplier to the other factions. We provided support, intelligence and logistics to the other factions and also often as liaisons to the other factions. In fact it was our faction that had brought the others together in the first place and was always looking for more allies. It was our codes and communications technology that kept the resistance functioning as a coordinated yet secure force. The biggest boon we brought to the resistance was a level of technological sophistication unseen elsewhere in the world.

At some point I’m going to have to write some posts about that technology but that will have to wait until much later.

As a whole, the resistance operated using a traditional cell structure. This helped to protect individual cells from detection in the event that one cell was compromised. It could also create problems where cells didn’t always see the big picture, know what other cells were doing or could become isolated if a higher level cell was lost.

With the heads of our faction all in hiding, there was a fair bit of initial confusion being felt throughout the structure of the faction. We learned that many of the leaders who hadn’t been with me in the compound were hit at roughly the same time. Investigating these scenes led us to believe it wasn’t government forces that had hit them but rather teams from the compound or otherwise loyal to James Grant that had orchestrated the hits.

It was quite clear that he had set out on a campaign to eliminate me and my top people. The most likely reason was so he could step in as my replacement. With the leadership gone, the lower level cells would conceivably follow any orders using the proper code. No doubt he assumed he would be able to get those codes off of my corpse. As that was not an option for him, he was forced to use a combination of charisma and lies to manoeuvre himself into a position of leadership.

What he was discovering is that there were safe guards in place within my organization to prevent exactly that sort of take over. One of those safeguards was that the other leaders of the resistance would have to approve any replacement for me in the event I was neutralized. While the intent from the beginning was to change history back to what it was supposed to be, Plan B was to defeat the enemy in this timeline and secure as positive a result as possible in case changing history would not be an option. It was assumed that if I was neutralized, changing history would no longer be an option or a much less likely one.

So I had diligently planned for the possibility of my own death and the continuation of Plan B in my absence.

There would be a secret summit in the mountains where James Grant would have to prove to the rest of the resistance leadership that he was fit and best qualified to take my place. While I was certain that one of my few surviving lieutenants would be more than capable of squashing such a power play, the fact that I was in fact still alive rendered such pointless. Something I would make plain in person with my surprise arrival at the summit.

There may have been ways to avoid the summit altogether, but there were reasons for staging a surprise return from the dead.

First of all being dead allowed me quite a bit of freedom of movement.

That allowed me to gather evidence against James Grant.

That evidence would be presented at the summit when I arrived.

James Grant would be unprepared for my return and unable to counter my evidence or prevent me from reasserting control.

But there was more to it then that.

I was mad. More than mad, I was furious at the man. Very rarely had I ever taken anything that happened personally in the war. I knew I was a target to the enemy due to my position. I knew that politics was to be expected even amongst allies. I was prepared to deal with both. But the betrayal of James Grant had cost us valuable resources, including his own compound. It had set back the resistance over all months, if not years. And for what? To satisfy a small mans petty ego. I wanted to destroy him.

There were quite a few amongst those closest to me that thought I should just arrange to have him quietly killed and then resume operations. Certainly it seemed justified given the circumstances. But I had drafted rules and policies about this sort of thing. Those rules were as close to a due process that our outlaw band had going for us. I had to show that those rules were valid and could work. I had to set the example for our faction and to the rest of the resistance as well.

Besides, when I said destroyed, I meant it. I wanted him to see his plans unravelled, his hopes dashed, his treachery exposed and his uselessness exposed. I wanted to see him abandoned and condemned by all. Only then would it be fitting to level the final judgement and deliver the final punishment.

Things didn’t work out quite as planned.

Posted: **Wed Dec 18, 2013 12:34 am**

I'm sure he got what was coming to him.

Posted: **Wed Dec 18, 2013 10:49 am**

I don’t think any man deserved the fate that James Grant eventually faced. I’ll get into that more a bit later.

Despite my own desire for revenge and justice against James Grant, there were other considerations that had to be addressed first. Primary amongst those was Hannah and her position on his fate. Despite all that he had done, he was still the man that had raised her. After all the other horrors she had been through, I wasn’t about to just summarily execute her father figure in front of her.

So before going to crash the leadership summit, I took her aside to privately discuss the issue with her. I tried to sound her out for her feelings on the subject. To my surprise she did not ask for mercy on his behalf. Indeed, she was quite adamant that he must be made an example of. In fact she shared with me how betrayal was punished in the compound. I won’t repeat those things here except to say that even the family of a betrayer had to show their fervent loyalty or face a similar fate. From a brutal totalitarian point of view it made a certain amount of sense.

I remember it feeling surreal to see Hannah taking the hard line against her own grandfather. To the point that I almost wound up arguing for mercy to her. Almost but not quite. I think I realize now that part of it was that she may have been showing me the unwavering loyalty that would have been expected from her had something similar happened back at the compound. Just how far she was willing to go to show that loyalty would become apparent later.

Regretfully I don’t believe I ever managed to get out of her how she really felt about the situation. Or maybe I did and just couldn’t or wouldn’t see it.

In any case we moved on to discussing my plans for the leadership summit. I intended to make our entrance as dramatic as possible. I was after all coming back from the dead and such things do require a certain amount of showmanship. Aside from all that, I also saw an opportunity to assert control over the whole of the resistance. It was something I had been considering for some time by that point.

With so many different factions and separate agendas, it was often times difficult to get things done. I had brought all these groups together, made them realize who the real enemy was and got them going more or less in the same direction. Far too often however they went at different speeds, off on tangents, failed to follow up on success or seize opportunities. We were an allied force with no allied command. It was time to change all of that.

I had considered finding a suitable leader and nominating them to the role of head of the resistance. There were more able generals, administrators and politicians available for the task. What they all lacked however was a true grasp of the big picture and a willingness to set aside personal agendas in order to win the war. Only I had no stake in any side interests. Only I would be willing to make necessary sacrifices in order to win the contest.

It may sound as though I was justifying a power grab for myself. The last thing I wanted was the responsibility of being in charge. Many people think that being in charge means being able to tell everyone what to do and enjoying all privileges that come with being the boss. Such self-deluded tin plated tyrant wannabe’s rarely make good leaders. Those they command will usually only obey out of fear of some sort of consequence. They do not care about the welfare of those they are responsible for and to.

True leadership is not a prize to be sought. It is a burden to be lifted up and borne.

So when I say that I was feeling that I was the only man for the job it is because I could find no worthy substitute to do it in my place.

James Grant on the other hand wanted to be in charge. Felt that he was in fact destined to lead. Everyone else who was above him were merely obstacles to his greatness and had to be eliminated so he could assume his throne. Those who served under him were his property and chattel to be commanded and dispensed with as he so desired. He had seen me as an obstacle from day one and had obstructed me at every turn. I had viewed him as a necessary evil and managed him as best as I could.

His recent actions had proven to me that not only was he not necessary, he was doing the enemies work within our ranks. He had to be eliminated one way or another.

When we arrived at the secret location of the summit, we timed things so that the leaders would all be in the meeting hall. I disabled all the electronic security measures while my team deftly disabled organic security. Taking care not to harm anyone permanently however. During the approach to the hall Hannah held her power in reserve while Dr. Boggs, Gloom, Fanus and Maddie used their magical abilities liberally.

Brutal and Slayer were the ones to throw open the massive double doors to the meeting hall.

Inside, James Grant was still in mid speech. “It was the incompetence of the previous leader of this faction that led not only to the death of himself and his lieutenants but compromised my compound. Therefore it is only right and just that I be given command of his resources…”

The look on his face as I stalked in was well worth the resources and time that had gone into making it happen.

I drew my side arm and levelled it at his head. “Sit down, and shut up!”

He started to stutter as his mind tried to process what he was seeing in front of him.

Behind me, Hannah was finishing a spell that she had been saving just for this situation. There were mages present in the hall and they were in the midst of standing up and casting various defensive magic’s in response to the increasingly volatile situation. They found that their spells failed them. They looked in turns surprised, angry, scared and finally, impressed as they all realized that Hannah was the reason that they were now very helpless.

There were armed guards present as well. Hannah’s magic disabled some of them. Those by the doors were tasered by Brutal and Slayer. Fanus shrugged off a number of direct hits as he charged guards who were further away. Despite his temptation to do otherwise, Fanus merely crushed their firearms with his bare hands. The rest of my team were levelling firearms at the heads of known psychics, daring them to try something.

I let my gaze sweep the room before settling my eyes on James Grant. “If I’m incompetent, it doesn’t say much for the rest of you now, does it?”

“It’s a trap! He’s clearly thrown in with the government! How else could he have survived the ambush at the compound?” James Grant looked around desperately for support amongst the gathered leadership. If they supported them, none of them were in a position to assist him, covered as they were by my people.

I’m pretty sure I ran the distance between myself and James grant. I brought the butt of my pistol down hard against his temple. “I told you to SHUT UP!”

The force of the blow forced him into his seat and a trickle of blood started to stain a crimson trail down his face. He was still defiant but there was fear there now. Enough to keep him quiet.

I cleared my throat and projected my voice loudly into the room. “Listen closely to me, everybody. There are going to be some changes in how we do things around here.”

I’ll have to finish this post later. These memories still get my heart pounding and I need a rest.

Posted: **Wed Dec 18, 2013 9:23 pm**

I remember her describing the incident in the journal . . . since I'm not allowed to read that anymore (and with good reason) all I can say is that she was very angry with her grandfather for reasons beyond his betrayal of Mr. Blue and his cohorts. Ultimately she felt that he had abandoned every tie of loyalty to allies, comrades, friends and family.

But that was not why she was arguing so hard against mercy. She was concerned that Mr. Blue might leave himself open to further betrayal if he didn't show how ferocious he actually was. In her mind a cold, clean execution wouldn't do that. In addition, a trial would only give her Grandfather a chance to sow further dissension.

I remember a few passages like that, in which she lamented how Mr. Blue couldn't or wouldn't protect himself from certain threats.

Hannah

Posted: **Fri Jan 17, 2014 8:01 am**

While courtesy would suggest that I should apologize for the delay in posting this next part of the story, that would suggest that I am in any way sorry for what has occupied my attention in the interim and I am not. Therefore I will say that I will attempt to keep further delays to a minimum.

I don’t know if Victor Lazlo would have handled things the way I did. In fact, I suspect he wouldn’t have. Trying to live up to another man’s ideals can be trying at the best of times and these were certainly not the best of times. Then again, in his writings he always seemed to be calling people to arms, to stand against the otherworldly and supernatural threats we face. Perhaps there was something of the warrior in that old academic. Unfortunately he is not around to discuss any of this with.

Of course identity itself can be a confusing subject. I report all of these events as though I had experienced and indeed the memories implanted in my mind make it feel that way as well. But they are all the memories and experiences of another man who despite being very similar to me, has his own unique identity. Still, I will continue to recount them from the perspective of my memory since that seems easiest for me.

At any rate, we had barged in on the summit meeting and I had knocked James Grant back into his seat with a quickly growing shiner which fed my satisfaction with the situation.

“Victor, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The designated speaker had stood up with a scowl. He was a former military man and retired spook. As he wore an eye patch I will call him Col. Patch. He was over two meters tall and built like a line backer. Despite his advanced age, he was an impressive figure. “Tell your people to stand down this instant!”

He was of course correct, what I was doing wasn’t only outside proper protocol, it wasn’t even in sight of protocol. I took a moment to pull James Grant out of what should have been my seat and deposit him on the floor. Brutal and Slayer grabbed either side of him and dragged him kicking and screaming from the room, ignoring scowls and protests from the seated gentlemen (and some ladies).

“My apologies Mr. Speaker.” I said as I stood in front of the seat. “But there was a traitor in my seat. Don’t worry though, we’re taking care of him.”

Col. Patch continued to scowl. “A message through the proper channels could have avoided all of this. In fact this whole summit is pretty much pointless since it was being held to choose your successor.”

“Well regardless of the original intention of this meeting, it can still be fruitful.” I said.

“Not…” Col Patch interrupted. “While your people are holding us all down in lock down.”

“Quite right.” I nodded and turned to address my people. “It’s alright. Deal with the traitor and I’ll take care of things here.” Everyone except of Hannah and Faunus left. Everyone was allowed two body guards at these meetings so that everyone could feel nominally safe. Of course Hannah’s presence would ensure that the other mages would remain powerless while Faunus was an intimidating presence who was all but bullet proof.

We waited until my lieutenants filed out and closed the doors behind them. “Satisfied?” I asked the speaker.

Col Patch let out a long sigh through gritted teeth. “Very well Victor. So what are these other issues you alluded to?”

That was when I laid out my belief that it was time to create a single unified command for the resistance while simultaneously putting my hat in the ring as over all commander. I won’t bore you with the details of the arguments and politics that followed. Some of my confederates had to be cajoled, some bribed and some even went along willingly but eventually all of them agreed to restructure the resistance into one cohesive organization.

My second in command and chief advisor for the over all resistance network was going to be Col. Patch, who despite his annoyance with me also happened to be one of my biggest supporters. His connections with both the military and intelligence community didn’t hurt either.

That still left the question of what to do about James Grant to contend with.

Posted: **Sun Mar 02, 2014 8:00 pm**

While I take a break from my master's thesis, I figured I'd post this little sorray my gloomy counterpart had. It takes place sometime after her foray with the therian groups.

Defections work both ways.

Some months after the fallout with Charles ratting us out, the Boss had informed my conscience and I that we had a breakthrough. A highly skilled operative in the opposition, apparently aware of the big nasties pulling strings in the Canadian government, was looking for an out. The fact we were his first choice was an odd one considering he had been involved in neutralizing some of our cells during a purge not too long ago.

Apparently he was willing to offer information on some secret programs the science nerds had been working on since Nemesis Day in exchange for joining the winning (?) team. Apparently that was enough for the Boss to bite.

Grace and I were there to rendezvous with the agent and get him back safely. This sort of situation wasn’t my forte – to quote someone else, I’m a cheerless wet worker with no skills involving people that don’t involve beating strongarming, interrogation, or straight up murder. That said, apparently the turncoat’s superiors were onto his plans to ply his services elsewhere and had agents en route. The Boss wanted them dealt with as necessary.

Now that was my forte.

Barkersville, B.C. was a small little dump up north, built during the Cariboo gold rush period. It had been ordered abandoned by the government after an ‘industrial accident’ made it uninhabitable. In reality, the government had laid waste to the town when a group in the nascent days in the resistance had holed up here, thinking they were far enough from Ottawa that they could be ignored.

Regardless, it was a deserted little hole which allowed the rendezvous to happen in the relative open, and it was far enough from civilization to allow us to operate with relative impunity. The problem was it also allowed our enemies to do the same. We could get away if we got into the wilderness, but we had to make contact quick.

Grace set up a sniper’s position along an old mill near the plateau. She went with her usual .338 Lapua, figuring she would want enough power to overcome anything the defector’s pursuers had. I just went with a pistol and my usual kit. Barkersville was dead at night, but that didn’t mean there might not be people around to raise an alarm.

Heading into town, I found an old shed to kip in for a bit. It was going to be a wait.

It was about 1 AM when I heard my conscience’s voice in my ear, “A van stopped just outside of town. There are about a dozen guys in tactical gear coming towards you from the west. No sign of our defector.”

“Great.” I muttered, grabbing my handgun and double checking its load. Since we were so far out of the way, the opposition didn’t have to be discreet about dressing up their tin soldiers. Fortunately the engineers at FN Herstal know how to design a very nice platform for armor piercing bullets.

I was gathering my things and getting ready to leave the shack when I heard a rustling outside. Leaning next to the door, I nudged it open, quietly poking my gun outside before stepping outside. I didn’t see anybody, but I had a feeling that I wasn’t alone.

Pausing at the corner of the building, I readied my gun as I turned the corner, only to find my legs taken right out from under me. I recovered just in time to aim my weapon towards the figure leaning in right above my sprawled out ass, rifle pointed at my head.

There was a brief moment when I contemplated shooting, where instincts would have told me safety was better than discretion. That said, it took less than a second for me to realize the bad guys wouldn’t have sent someone in just BDUs and a winter coat.

“Atlas, I take it?” I asked, lowering my gun. I watched him sigh in relief as he lowered his own weapon.

“Good. I thought I’d never find you guys. I saw the clean-up crew coming.” He offered me a hand, which I took to pull myself up after a moment’s thought.

“Should be easy to deal with. My partner’s got the town covered.” I noted, “Spotted them coming in just now.”

“Those may not be the guys we should be worried about.” He said with a frown, “There are… other things after me – things that aren’t human. I didn’t believe it at first, but I saw files on an operation in Prince Rupert..."

“You don’t need to tell me about it. Those were our people.” I said bitterly.
There was a bit of static in my earpiece before my conscience chimed in,
“They’re coming, Gloom. Also I saw something stand out against the moon. I think it’s…”

Grace was cut off as I heard a screech of rockets. Quickly, I shoved Atlas to the ground as the tool shed, muttering a spell as I put my head down. Not two seconds later, I had been taking shelter exploded, erupting in flames like a box of matches.

My ears were still ringing as Atlas and I got up, flaming debris bouncing off the remnants of the shield I had erected. I remember cursing as I looked back at the burning foundations of the shack, before ducking again as gunfire riddled the buildings around us.

Quickly, both of us ran into cover, Atlas providing covering fire with his rifle. In my ear, I heard Grace chattering, “Gloom, are you alright?”

“Can you take out that drone?” I asked, staying low along a fence as we crawled towards someone’s back yard.

“This isn’t an anti-materiel rifle, but I might be able to, if I know where to hit it.” She replied.

I glanced at Atlas, before reaching in my bag and pulling out a tablet, fiddling with some of the icons.

“This is a bad time to be checking your e-mail, isn’t it?” He asked, peering back at the silhouettes searching for us in the darkness. Rolling my eyes, I found the program I needed before handing him the tablet and the spare headset I was carrying.

“Find the drone, point the camera at it and hit the button. After that, tell the person on the other end of the line where to shoot.”

“A tablet is going to save us?” He asked, somewhat incredulously.

“Just do it. Find some cover, I’ll distract the bad guys. ” I said, with a smirk. Summoning up a bit of magic spark, the area around us became shrouded in a thick smoke. He just sighed and nodded, before heading off to find cover near someone’s garage, staying low.

Because I didn’t entirely trust him, I didn’t bother to give Atlas any background on the device. Simply put, the Boss that written that program specifically to identify weak points in known technological threats. We had field tested it a bit the month before when the opposition had been attempting to use augmented power suits on their soldiers to root us out of a safe house. They ended up with a lot of shattered knees.

I took cover behind a doghouse as the squad began to search the area. I counted 12 of them, armed with assault rifles, night vision gear, and about the most advanced personal body armor money could buy. On top of that, they had at least one missile armed drone overhead.

Outnumbered and better armed than me. They were making a huge fucking mistake.

I drew out my knife, assessing the situation from behind a dog house. The smoke was mostly there to draw their attention to where I was – they had the equipment necessary to see anybody obscured in there. Their fancy asss goggles, however, limited their field of vision, and made them susceptible to good old fashioned predator tactics.

I waited until the group had passed me before creeping up behind the last one as he rounded the corner of a house, grabbing him by the neck and slitting his throat with one quick motion. I put my hand over his mouth to muffle the gurgling, dragging him down with me behind the corner and out of sight. There was no commotion – 1 down.

I took a brief moment to look his equipment over. He had a standard M-4 with short range scope, full body armor getup, and nightvision. There was nothing terribly fancy about these guys, who had me a bit concerned; they did after all know what we could do, so they seemed very under-equipped for the task.

I pounced on another one as he was exploring someone’s garden shed, tossing a knife right into the side of his neck. I was a bit reckless on that one because that drew the attention of his friend, who peeked around the corner – only to get a bullet straight through his eye for the trouble. The sound of him falling into the bushes was enough to tip off his friends, who quickly began marching to my location.

This might sound like it was a bad situation, but it was pretty much exactly what I wanted. While in that garden, I set up a little something for the rest of them – I won’t’ spoil the surprise yet.

As the rear guard ran up past me attempting to catch up to his friends, I grabbed one from behind in a sleeper hold, muttering a spell in his ear. His struggling ceased as he stood there like a slack jawed local. Quickly, I flipped a switch on something I was keeping in my satchel, before tucking it into his pocket. Then I nice and calmly asked him to catch up to his friends. He did so without so much as a stumble. Had he known it was C-4 in that bag, he might not have complied.

There was some panicking as the Special Forces who had entered the garden realized their feet were stuck firmly t. I had laid down an adhesion spell near their comrade’s corpse, and by the time their friend was catching up to them, I had 5 of them right where I wanted them. They hadn’t even noticed anything was up with their friend as they tried to wave him off before I pushed the button on the detonator.

I’ll spare you messy details, but I didn’t have a whole lot left to deal with.

The remaining soldiers were in a bit of disarray as they attempted to regain their bearings, searching around for me desperately. Not long after the first explosion however, there was a gunshot and a second, albeit smaller explosion. Glancing up, I saw the UAV spiraling chaotically out of the sky, sparks and smoke emanating from an intake vent as it went screeching into the ground.

“How the hell did she do that?” I heard Atlas chirp in my earpiece, clearly impressed.

“Welcome to the all-stars.” I said dryly. As I watched, my conscience and

Atlas take the time to eliminate the last several while they didn’t have their bearings. That brought my mental count of KIA to 11.

“We’re missing one.” I noted on the comm, glancing around.

I didn’t get to finish my sentence.

The next thing I knew, I was on the ground feeling like I just struck by a small cannon to the chest. Sitting up, I heard a clink as I spotted the flattened remains of a high caliber bullet fall from my scuffed-but-intact leather jacket.

I heard the sound of a bolt action sliding back into place as I scampered painfully behind a shed, a second shot putting a very large hole through the wooden siding and missing me by a few inches.

“Gloom?” My conscience chimed in my ear, concerned.

“I found them.” I wheezed quietly, holding my side. Popping out as I heard the bolt slide back, my assailant wasn’t even 30 paces away as I fired rapidly, forcing my assailant to drop their rifle and dive for cover. Not two seconds later, they returned the favor by lobbing back what was unmistakably a grenade at my feet, leaving me running and lunging around the corner of the nearby house. I beat by a hair’s width, the explosion blowing out the windows and shredding the siding with shrapnel.

Briefly, I glanced about, sidearm trained and ready. The spook was gone.

“Grace, do you see them?” I muttered into my mic.

“Negative.”

Whoever they were, they were making me wish I had flayed them first.

Posted: **Mon Mar 03, 2014 9:17 am**

I'm not surprised Gloom decided to write about this incident. Definitely her sort of gloomy tale.

Posted: **Tue Jun 10, 2014 8:35 pm**

Part two of Gloom's mining town foray here.

Personally, my stay in a similar mining town was equally unpleasant.

It didn't take me all that long to find my target. Goddamnit she was good.

I was nearing an old greenhouse missing several prominent window pane, handgun and knife in hand. My target had pretty much just... disappeared a few minutes ago and I needed to try and flush her out before we could depart.

I was about to check in with my conscience as I was tackled from the side, the two of us tumbling through an overgrown bush. I managed to fling my target off of me, my gun missing in the bush somewhere but knife still in hand.

My target, only a bit taller than me but certainly stronger, wearing a variation of tactical gear with kevlar, helmet, ballistic plates and some sort of armored vambraces. They had recovered from my throw and were already in a kneeling position as they began firing at me, a few more panes of glass shattering as I dove out of the way.

"Gloom, are you alright? I can't get a clear shot while you're in that greenhouse." My conscience chirped in my ear over the gunfire. At that moment I had an inkling that may have been deliberate. She knew Grace was out there somewhere, and wanted to deal with us one at a time. Whoever they were, they were just that much sharper than the rest of the spooks I neutralized.

I heard the spook take cover, dropping their magazine to load a new one. I took that moment to mutter a spell, reaching forward as I telekinetically knocked the clip from their hands, tossing it behind some plants. I took my chance to rush in at that point, throwing a knife at them for cover. They dropped the gun as the knife caught them on on a trauma plate on the right shoulder, seemingly unphased as they ran in to engage.

Nothing phased them, goddamn.

The spook blocked my initial swipe, catching my forearm with one of their vambraces. Quickly I muttered a spell as they held my arm, grabbing them by the face and delivering a high voltage shock. It didn't have the intended effect; the spook grabbed my still discharging hand and kneed me right in the breadbasket.

I held onto their balaclava as I yanked it over their eyes, knocking their helmet off and freeing my knife hand enough to deliver an elbow to the exposed part of their jaw. Still unphased, the bastard stepped inside my center line, throwing me on my ass with a shoulder toss before beginning to strangle me with her armored forearms, sitting on my knife arm with most of her weight.

Yes, I said her - in the struggle, I tore her balaclava off, revealing a gorgeous, if not really pissed off brunette who was taking cold pleasure in strangling me.

There was the sound of shattering glass as a heavy caliber rifle bullet struck my assailant in the back, bouncing off a trauma plate but distracting her long enough to wedge my foot in and kick her off of me.

My conscience has a way of helping out, even when she doesn't always have a clear shot.

My target drew a knife - more of a machete really - as she swung at me, unwilling to give me time to get up or cast a hex. I rolled out of the way, spinning behind a small tree to avoid the follow up swing, getting just enough time to cast a quick spell from the other side of the tree.

I was going to need a trap to deal with this bitch.

I caught her overhead swing of the machete by her forearm, taking all of my strength to keep her from overpowering me as I managed to knock it aside, swinging my knife at her vest's weak spot along the sides. She of course lunged backwards against the small elm to avoid the swing, quickly trying to hack at me again - only to find herself stuck.

I might have been able to take her in a straight fight in hindsight, but honestly I had no reason not to cheat and turn that tree into wooden flypaper.

I took that moment of surprise to crack her across the jaw with the pommel of my knife, and then several more times to make sure I stunned her. She wasn't even so much as bruised, but she was disoriented finally.

I was about to just slit her throat when I heard Atlas call out, "Stop!"

"I'm kind of busy here." I muttered, grabbing the woman by the collar as I lifted my knife.

"She's my partner, D- erm, Erinys. We need to take her with us." Atlas said as he walked up to us, gun pointed at the woman, "She's been duped like I was."

As I held the woman by her vest, she woozily glanced over at Atlas, going wide eyed as she finally spoke, "Clint?"

That probably should have been the point where Atlas talked Erinys down, convinced her to join us, and we happily got out of there.

It never works like that.

Instead, that is of course when shit went south very quickly.

I remember Grace calling in reports of some weird stuff coming in - some sort of flying creatures that were circling the town. The next thing I know, a series of armoed bodies come sailing through the ceiling of the greenhouse, swinging spears and halberds at us.

I managed to strike one with a bolt of lightning as it came through the glass, before ducking out of the way of one of those halberds as they swooped at us. That's when I heard the sound of someone being skewered. I looked over, seeing Atlas slumped over in front of Erinys, a halberd straight through his guts.

Erinys stared at Atlas's with a moment of horror, before suddenly everything around her went up into bright, hot fire.

Things just got very bad.

Posted: **Tue Jun 10, 2014 9:23 pm**

I always thought it was a shame the way that went down.

Posted: **Mon Jul 28, 2014 12:04 am**

It didn't really sound like most things went down well there.

Things went quickly after that. Goddamn they went so quick.

The light show that was Erinyes drew the attention of the flying suits of armor. They'd have been crazy not to - she was literally on fire, and everything around her was quickly going up in flames and ashes, including the greenhouse we were in. Though my instinct was to put down the firemaker, I wasn't -that- suicidal.

I grabbed Atlas and dragged him and behind some rubble as the flying things closed in. A couple of them were incinerated by a blast of fire, their armor melting into smoky vapors. A third one, who had thought it was being clever by trying to flank her while she was vaporizing his comrades, found its spear stopping three inches from her face. There was a homicidal look in her eye as she simply gestured, the struggling suit of armor crumpling like a tin can as it just... imploded.

What in the hell was she?

Despite the giant hole in his gut, Atlas was in fact still alive and conscious as I checked on him. He didn't look great, but nobody would after that.

"I... can't feel my legs." He said weakly, his hand over the hole in his stomach.

"That isn't the worst of our problems. We need to get out of here. I have never seen shit like that before." I said, looking at his wound. I wasn't a doctor, but honestly I wasn't sure how he was still awake.

"They were... doing experiments on those with psychic potential, drawing out and fortifying talents." Atlas wheezed, wiping some blood from the corner of his mouth, "The process was... unstable though."

"You don't say." I noted, watching one of the flying predators literally ripped apart without being touched. If I hadn't known better, I'd have assumed the thing was in agony was it was violently wretched in two.

"Y... you don't understand. The subjects were more powerful than any natural psychic, but... none of them could control their powers without being consumed."

I looked back over at the bright source of heat, re-assesing our position. Molten dark metal was almost raining from the sky at times as the metal predators continued to circle, seemingly heedless to the danger.

I looked down as Atlas grabbed my arm tightly, looking real pale.
"They are probably going to surround the town and make it so nobody gets out alive, in or out."

I heard my conscience chiming in my ear, "He's right Gloom. There's some... figures moving through town. They're big too. To top it off, boss called in to report the feds have slated an airstrike. They'll be here in 5 minutes."

I remember I was about to say something snarky - real snarky - but then I heard the clattering of darkmetal suits moving in the darkness. Erinys' display of destruction meant I didn't notice the armored bastards - more heavy set than their flying cousins - surrounding the building until it was too late.

I felt Atlas tugging on my arm again,"Help me up. If I'm going to die I'm going to do it fighting."

I hefted him to his feet, not really in a position to argue. Honestly, for a guy who was half dead he was holding up surprisingly well.

What he did next was even more badass.

The armored suits came charging in, moving as one body as they brandished swords and axes. Atlas took a deep breath, before pushing his bloodied hands towards the pack. The impact was like a freight train hitting bowling pins, the phalanx scattering like leaves in twisted, dismembered pieces.

"Grace, tell the old man we need an evac." I told my conscience through my comm, "Stay close."

"What about Erinyes? She's going ballistic."She asked, presumably as she was covering us as I saw several several high powered bullets impact one of the suits, the creature collapsing with several large holes through its head and chest.

My conscience brought up a good point. We either left her behind, or had to knock her out to bring her with us. However, that would neutralize a good share of our position's firepower. She was drawing a lot of attention from the flying things in the way that someone who could turn alchemical metal into ashes can. That meant she needed to be neutralized somehow.

"I'll hold them off. You... you knock her out." Atlas said with a bloody smirk. After that display of telekinetic might, he was laboring to stand, and probably straining more to bring up that much psychic power.

I watched him clap his hands, one of the suits of armor literally flattening like a stomped tin can. He then flung what was left, which reminded me of an oozing circular saw blade, towards one of its friends. The thin ragged steel sliced it and the one behind it raggedly in half.

I decided I wasn't going to argue with him.

I keep a dart gun on hand in case I need to apprehend targets for interrogation. Problem is my usual targets don't bask themselves in fire and turn metal into ashes with a look. I needed to hit her when she was focused on something else, timed in a way that wouldn't get her - or me - killed. Maybe our assailants could help.

I stayed out of sight as I crept closer, using some remaining bits of building to cover my approach as the armored mooks kept charging at our position. I of course went to lengths to fireproof myself, hoping it would be enough. I didn't know this chick at all, and useful as she might have been to the cause she wasn't worth me getting my ass killed.

I waited until she was busy melting several of the suits in a wall of flame before popping up and firing, hitting her right in the neck with a dart. It didn't have as quick of an effect as I'd have liked - almost instantly she spun around, aiming a gout of fire in my direction. I put my hands up to fortify the magical shield as I stepped forward, the heat singing my exposed fingers even through the ward as the inferno parted to either side of me.

Unfortunately, the bitch was feinting - before the flames even cleared she was two paces away from me, socking me right in the gut before both hands were around my neck, trying to pop my head right off my shoulders,

This was going real fucking fantastically.

I figured she could take a couple more blows, and punched her in the nose as hard as I could. The punches were, frankly, useless. She lifted me up, squeezing tighter as I managed to lift my legs, kicking her in the chest as hard as I could with both feet. She didn't even stagger, but it was enough for me to loosen her grip as I hit the ground rasping.

I needed another dart, reaching into my pocket to grab one. She wasn't willing to give me a chance to reload; she grabbed me by the collar of my jacket and lifted me up, her hand awash in flames. That was when I grabbed her hands, channeling energy once again for as large of a taser charge as I could. I would have worried about frying her, but well, screw her - she could take it.

I hoped.

Erinyes shuddered for several seconds before falling over and convulsing. I managed to drag her into some cover, signalling to Grace, "Grace, I got her. Is extraction coming?"

There was a delay before I heard the sound of impact behind me. Looking back, a dark suit of armor was toppling over, its head just... missing.

"He said help is arriving. Watch your six." She said, with a bit of smug.

I hated her sometimes.

The armored things kept their positions around us, lined up in an almost solid square. There were more of them than I could count, but for some reason they weren't charging forward. Well, not some reason - they were waiting for the air strike to blow us away.

Atlas hadn't looked great even as he had been tossing the armored things around like ragdolls, but as the combat surge wore off it wasn't good. By the time I picked myself up he was on the ground. I crawled over to check his pulse. Nothing.

Except for Grace, who only had so much ammo. I was alone, surrounded by a bunch of alchemical monsters with my only possible help being an unconscious superfreak. I heard some more clattering of darksteel footprints moving in.

Oh yeah, I was out of juice too - this was bad.

I heard the clanking of metal above me, looking up to see a sword wielding metal man sitting above me, eyes glowing. I aimed my handgun upwards, knife in my other hand as I waited for the inevitable - something I probably wasn't going to win, but had to fight anyway.

The beast leaped at me, swinging its wicked looking sword at me just as it was knocked out of the air and flat into the wall. That's when I smelled brimstone. I looked over - it was Grace and Maddie.

"Grab the girl. We're leaving."She hissed, her hands glowing red with power.

I knew not to ask questions. I hefted Erinyes up as we all got close. I gave Atlas' lifeless body one last look, before we went up in a puff of sulfer.

The headline the next day was that that town was used as a test site for a new military smart missile. There wasn't anything left of the town. No corpses, no metal monsters. Just rubble and memories.

Erinyes - after we managed to convince her we weren't the bad guys, anyway - had me go back to lay some flowers for him. Normally I'd have told her to do it herself, but sometimes you can tell there are wounds that aren't healed yet.

I suppose it was on the way.

Posted: **Mon Jul 28, 2014 11:30 am**

There are some parallels between the Atlas of that world and the 'Atlas' of ours. Both are strong, heroic figures who started out working for the government. Both would eventually become disillusioned with how the government did things.

That Atlas had the name simply because of how strong he was. This world's Atlas hasn't taken on the name but has even more in common with the Greek Titan of legend.

You see a friend of ours is addicted to the fruit of the fey, as has been mentioned in another thread. A possible cure has been suggested using a recipe the includes fruits from Dyval, better known as Hell. It was this world's version of Atlas that went into the underworld, infiltrated the armies of hell and retrieved the fruits required.

As for Erinyes, this world's version of her has no psychic capability at all-though she does have a fiery temper. She also started out working for the government but eventually moved on to other employers. Erinyes and Atlas are both friends in this world and have been known to work together from time to time.

Hopefully someday we'll be able to relate the story of how Atlas went into the underworld.

Erinyes never did learn to master her powers. It was all or nothing and she was usually given medication to keep them suppressed. Even as a normal human operative she was still very effective however. She never really smiled though and eventually met her end alone, on a solo mission.

What Would Victor Lazlo Do?

Re: What Would Victor Lazlo Do?

Re: What Would Victor Lazlo Do?

Re: What Would Victor Lazlo Do?

Re: What Would Victor Lazlo Do?

Re: What Would Victor Lazlo Do?

Re: What Would Victor Lazlo Do?

Re: What Would Victor Lazlo Do?

Re: What Would Victor Lazlo Do?

Re: What Would Victor Lazlo Do?

Re: What Would Victor Lazlo Do?

Re: What Would Victor Lazlo Do?

Re: What Would Victor Lazlo Do?