Chronicler of Ko-Koro

[iC: New York City, NY] "Gee Bee, I need a diagnostic report, now!" Miles said as he wrestled with the controls. "Unless the laws of physics changed in the last thirty seconds, I'm pretty sure the sky isn't supposed to be upside down like that!"The Cricket spun wildly as it rocketed further into its downward spiral towards the city below; the g-forces slamming Miles back against his seat. The view through the domed cockpit window was filling with skyscrapers, rising up like a pit of deadly spikes to meet the Cricket as it fell."<Thruster 1 refusing to disengage, Thruster 2 is completely dead. Most likely you pushed it beyond its limits and burnt it out, but we won't be able to diagnose it until we're on the ground,>" Goldbug replied. "<Sir, speaking of the ground...>""I know, I know!" Miles yelled back. "Any chance we could maneuver away from the city, maybe make an emergency landing down in the bay?""<I could tell you the odds on that... but I don't think you'd like to hear them. Even if you had enough time to steer the Cricket over water, it's not likely it could survive impacting against the surface at this speed. And you almost certainly wouldn't.>""Alright, let's just save that for Plan B, huh?" muttered Miles as he flipped a few switches and grabbed hold of a lever. "I'm putting the fuel injectors through an emergency restart cycle. That should force the thrusters to shutdown..."He yanked the lever, and true to his word, the thruster sputtered and died. The Cricket stopped its wild spin, plunging downwards into a dive."<Well done, sir. But there is still the slight issue of us falling to our deaths to deal with...>""Gotta let the restart cycle run through..." said Miles. "Then I can guide is in for a landing with the maneuvering thrusters."He glanced away from the controls towards the ground below. In the center of the grey spires, a square of green was rushing towards them. Perfect, Miles thought to himself. Out of everywhere on the city he could impact, and he was going down into Central Park. He supposed it was perferable to coliding with a building, but it was still placing countless civilian lives in danger."Alright, I think we've given the restart sequence enough time," said Miles. "If we're gonna slow down enough to survive before we hit the ground, thrusters gotta fire... NOW!"Miles yanked at the controls, only to get now response from the maneuvering thrusters."...erm... NOW! ...NOW! ...Now?"No matter how many times he tried, the thrusters refused to engage. The ground was fast approaching; Miles could count the number of people on the ground and, unfortunately, estimate just how many of them wouldn't be able to get clear of the impact sight in time. As the altimeter dropped down into the double digets, Miles shut his eyes tight and waited for the impact.The Cricket lurched suddenly, but it didn't take long for Miles to realize it wasnt from hitting the ground. Opening one eye, he saw the ground maybe about fifty feet away, people either running in terror or staring up in confusion. Looking up, Miles soon saw what had saved him. Hovering above him, glowing wings extended wide, was Paladin projecting a massive claw from his suits holographic emitters which had scooped up the Cricket.Slowly Paladin lowered the mech to the ground, its heavy feet touching down on the grass. Miles flicked the switch to open the Cricket's cockpit... only to find himself staring down the point of Paladin's glowing blade."[Alright, just who are you, and what do you think you were doing up there?]" he asked, his voice dripping with irritation at having to make this rescue."I... I'm... I'm the Technician..." Mile stammered."[Last I checked, the Technician was in prison,]" said Paladin. "[And he didn't look like some little punk barely out of high school either. What are you, kid; some kinda copycat?]""No... I'm not... you're thinking of... he was my father..." Miles said, fumbling in his labcoat for his League ID. "I... I'm with the League... uh, sir..."Paladin leaned in to read the ID, grumbled a few choice words under his breath, and disengaged his holographic projectors. The glowing blade fizzled away and vanished into nothingness."[...Fix your little toy, kid, or at least have the common sense not to fly it over populated areas,] he said, glowing wings spreading as he lifted his armored frame into the sky. "[Don't count on me being around to save you next time.]"Without waiting for a response from Miles, Paladin shot off into the sky, becoming a rapidly vanishing dot in the distance. [For Science!]

(IC - Dixie) "Fantastic, sir," Dixie muttered bitterly. "The rest of my patrol... got hit by an ambush. Probably the same Super Mutants that cleared out this town. I barely made it out alive; armor's dinged up something awful, though. Think I took out most of the brutes, but if there's more in the area... well, here's hoping at least one of those wastelanders has enough brain cells to work a firearm. Hawk out." Dixie grumbled a few choice words under her breath. Defending the people of the Texan Union from Mutant attacks was part of their agreement, but that didn't mean Dixie had to like it. They needed to be out scouring the wastes to find and guard pre-war knowledge, technology, and weapons, not risking their lives to save some flock of simple-minded hicks dumb enough to wander out into a desert filled with monsters and get in over their head. But nonetheless, Dixie did have to concede she herself was presently alone in said desert, and there was such a thing as safety in numbers. She drew her rifle and held it at her hip, slowly moving out into the ruins. First things first, she still had to actually find these wastelanders... (IC - Nil) "Yessir. Stick to him like glue, understood," Nil said with a brief salute, and promptly made himself scarce from the tent. Slinging his gun across his back, Nil marched his way across the NCR camp, whistling the tune that blasted private with his radio had managed to get stuck in his head. He caught up with the freelancer just as he was about to step into the medical tent. "Hey, merc! Yeah, you there!" Nil called out to him as he approached. "The pencil-pushers assigned me to keep an eye on you. Y'know, just make sure you don't steal any office supplies or something. Don't worry 'bout it too much; long as you're on the level, I don't expect we'll have any problems." [For Science!]

Approved by Ra's al Ghul: Username: Chronicler of Ko-KoroName: Cora JensenAppearance: An African-American woman with brown eyes and hair shaved down to a buzz cut. Wears a Followers’ labcoat over a grey shirt, brown pants, and black gloves and boots.Affiliation: Followers of the Apocalypse, NCR civilianAge: 27Specialization: Skilled medic, also possesses limited knowledge of pre-war historyEquipment: 10mm pistol, doctor’s bag with an assortment of medical tools, stimpacks and medicine.Bio: Cora grew up in New Reno, a city located on the far fringes of the New California Republic. Despite being annexed by the NCR, much of the city was still run by cabals of dueling crime families, who made New Reno was a haven for all sorts of vices and criminal activities. Surviving in such a cesspool was not easy without being forced to engage in certain unsavory professions to make ends meet. Addicted to jet and living in slums, she saw no real chance of her life ever improving.All that changed when Cora met a missionary from the Followers of the Apocalypse, come to New Reno to try provide aid to its poorest citizens. The Followers were an organization dedicated to preserving the knowledge of the old world, using it both to try and ensure the cataclysmic war that destroyed it never occurred again, and to help those in the Wasteland sorely in need. The Followers were neither liked or wanted in New Reno, the mob families did everything they could to drive them from the city or otherwise be rid of them, and they lacked the funds and supplies to make significant change in the city even without the pressure upon them. Yet even faced with such challenges they did all they could, with what little they had, to help the poorest souls in New Reno, Cora among them. The Followers helped her to kick her jet addiction, and got her back on her feet. She admired their dedication in the face of such adversity, and when the missionaries ended their mission and returned to safer portions of the NCR, she left New Reno with them.Cora took full advantage of the education the Followers provided, absorbing the Followers teachings like a sponge. She trained as a medic, wanting to help others the way the Followers helped her. Over the next few years she traveled from town to town across the Wasteland, traveling wherever she thought her assistance was needed most. When the NCR started its push into the Texan Wastes, Cora volunteered to lead a small group of her fellow Followers to establish a presence in the region. In exchange for their protection from the dangers of the Wasteland, Cora volunteered their skills as medics out to the NCR soldiers stationed there.Cora hopes to come to an agreement with the leaders of the Texan Union that would allow the Followers of the Apocalypse to establish a more permanent presence within their borders; however, so far she has little success setting up a meeting to arrange such negotiations. She disagrees with some of the Union’s ways, particularly with regard to the Resurgence Church’s influence over its workings, but still feels that peaceful co-existence is a goal worth working towards. As for the NCR, Cora generally sees them as well-meaning if slightly misguided, and while she might harbor some resentment towards them for often leaving the Followers under-supplied and underfunded in favor of their own advancement, she can’t deny that they’ve done the most to help the Wasteland get back on the path towards civilization. Ultimately, political affiliation isn’t Cora’s biggest concern; she worries more about helping the little people in need, no matter which side they might belong to. [For Science!]

(IC - Nil) "Do I, sir? I had no idea myself," said Nil. "As far as I'm concerned this is just another day out in the Wasteland; it ain't pleasant, but that's just the way things go sometimes. At the moment, I'm more worried about getting the sick freaks who did this." [For Science!]

[iC: League HQ, New York City, NY] "...Gyroscopic stabilizers operating at peak efficiency, wireless command link response time less than .25 seconds... hmmm, stress levels on left knee servo eight percent above the norm... I'll have to adjust that next time I'm in the lab..."Miles tapped away at the screen of his gauntlet, and in response the Cricket came lumbering out onto the runway of the League HQ's hanger. No jets were scheduled to arrive at the moment; timing was perfect for a test flight on the Cricket. The cockpit opened with a hiss of sliding pistons, and Miles pulled himself up and into his seat. Buckling himself in, Miles started flipping a series of switches, prepping the mechsuit for flight."<Sir, this seems ill advised,>" a feminine voice with just an edge of mechanical roughness about it spoke through Miles' comm. "<The Cricket's thruster system is still relatively untested, after all.>""Correct me if I'm wrong, Goldie, but isn't the purpose of this run, in fact, to test precisely that?" asked Miles, the glass dome of the cockpit sliding down into place in front of him."<But there's absolutely no reason you need to be in the cockpit for this,>" Goldbug replied. "<We could run more computer simulations, or you could fly the suit by remote, or literally anything else->""Bo-ring! Besides, if there is a problem with the engines, I can diagnose it much more effectively in here than from on the ground," said Miles. "Come on, Gee-Bee! Do I have to program a sense of adventure into you?""<Perish the thought, sir. But if you die in a fiery explosion... I told you so.>"Chuckling, Miles grabbed hold of the controls and carefully guided the Cricket into position. With the flip of one last switch, the pair of engines on the mech's back roared to life, slowly rising up above the floor of the hanger. Retrorockets in the legs kicked in, keeping the Cricket in balance at it hovered."Alright, all systems operating within tolerable limits..." Miles muttered as he looked over the info being fed into his visor. "How about we take this baby out for a spin?"Miles pushed down on the throttle and the Cricket rocketed forwards, thrusters spewing twin trains of fire behind it. The mechsuit roared out of the hanger, quickly gaining altitude as it rose into the sky over New York."<Flight system seems to be performing adequately without any major snafus,>" Goldbug informed Miles. "<I advise we test out a few basic flight maneuvers, then return back to League Headquarters.>""Nah, I wanna see how far I can push these thrusters," Miles said, forcing the Cricket to climb up higher over the city. "Better to figure out the bugs now, rather than when we've got some angry supervillain on our tail.""<Miles, I think that's a really bad idea->"The Cricket was rising steadily over the city. Down below, people, cars, even skyscrapers were fading away into tiny, indistinct dots. Inside the cockpit, Miles could feel the mech's frame starting to shake, both from the force of the rockets on its back and the sheer force of the wind at this altitude."Don't worry, when we start getting warning signs on the dials, I'll take us back down," said Miles. "I just need to know how much punishment this system can take-"Suddenly and without warning, the left thruster began to cut in and out. The flames trailing out the engine behind the Cricket began to sputter, then, abruptly, cut out completely."Oh sh-" was all Miles managed to mutter before the Cricket spun out in midair, dropping towards the city below in an uncontrolled tailspin.[For Science!]

(IC - Dixie) Dixie trudged along the side of the ruined highway, laser rifle slung across her back. She hadn't encountered another soul so far along the road, but as far as she was concerned that was a blessing. Most wastelanders had the common sense to stay out of the way of the Brotherhood's patrols, but a lone Knight in damaged power armor might make a tempting target for raiders.Every step she took confirmed what she'd first suspected down in the canyon, that one of the locomotion servos must have been damaged in that explosion. They were what gave the suit enhanced strength enough to overcome its own weight; without them, it was no better than the laughably overencumbered suits the NCR had foolishly stripped down and slapped on the backs of their Heavy Troopers. Dixie couldn't quite pin down where the break was without extensive examination, but she could sense a minute delay in her movements. There was only a second or two of delay, but in the situations she often found herself, those few seconds could be a matter of life and death.Dixie could see the crumbling ruins of a town ahead. A sand-worn road sign informed her that the town had been called Kyle, but Dixie wasn't sure that particularly mattered anymore. She was pretty sure you couldn't call a place a town if there were no people living there. Either way, there had to be more than a few abandoned stores in those ruins, and this far out into the wastes there was a better chance other scavengers hadn't gotten to them first. Dixie figured she'd find some food for the road; she had a mighty craving for a pack of Fancy Lads snack cakes... (IC - Nil) "Eh... I'm a soldier, not a doctor. I don't exactly get paid to stop people from bleeding, now do I?" Nil muttered. "Might be they wanted this guy to suffer, and they weren't gonna let him get out of that by dying. Heck if I know. You'll forgive me for not wanting to speculate on the mindset of whoever did this..."Nil was keeping his eyes trained on the windows, looking for any sign of movement on the street outside. It was the most likely spot for anyone to show up; an assassin hoping to finish them off might sneak in a window or some back entrance, but as Hanlon pointed out, whoever did this needed them to deliver their message. No, the Union would be coming in the front; more official that way, plenty of room for plausible deniablity.[For Science!]

(IC - Nil) "Far as I'm concerned, every lowlife in this stinking city is a suspect," muttered Nil. "No way am I letting a single one of 'em in here."Nil unslung his carbine and loaded a fresh clip. He marched off towards the main entrance to stand guard. Guilty or innocent, nobody from the Union was going to step through that door. They might be just as interested in finding the killer as they were... or they could be there to "accidentally" destroy vital evidence before the NCR could investigate. That wasn't something Nil was willing to risk. --- (IC - Dixie) Dixie ran between the canyon walls, praying none of the Mutants would land a lucky headshot as she felt the impact of bullets bouncing off her power armor. Even with the added protection the suit would give her, eventually one of them would get a lucky hit in the joints or hit a worn point in the armor, and then it'd all be over.She looked back to try and count how many Mutants were after her; halfway through her headcount, Dixie realized that maybe she didn't really want to know. She fired her laser rifle at them as she retreated, but she knew she'd bleed her supply of microfusion cells dry before she'd killed them all. Dixie wished she'd thought to snatch a few grenades off the corpse of her fellow Knight; as much as she disliked the idea of looting her fallen comrades, he was hardly using them at the moment. But no, his body was all the way back by the car, which now had Super Mutants swarming over it......The car...Dixie spun around, dropping to one knee and taking careful aim with her laser rifle. She aimed past the hoard of Super Mutants charging towards her, towards the bullet-riddled automobile lying at the bottom of the ditch."Sorry 'bout this, gorgeous," she whispered, and squeezed down on the trigger.The laser bolts ripped through the metal frame of the car, flames sprouting and licking away at the engine. Then the entire car went up in a blast of light and heat, a miniaturized nuclear explosion that vaporized most of the vehicle and any Super Mutant unfortunate enough to be standing too close to it. The canyon walls were perfectly shaped to amplify the force of the blast, the shockwave ripping through the hoard of Mutants like paper. Even in her heavy power armor, the force of the blast was enough to knock Daisy off her feet, throwing her back about ten feet before she hit the ground, a spasm of pain shooting up her back. Dixie winced, spitting up the mouthful of sand she'd had thrown in her face by that blast. But she couldn't complain, she'd survived after all. She'd faced off against a hoard of Super Mutants alone and she......She couldn't get up.Dixie cursed loudly as she struggled to pull herself up, weighed down by her own power armor. One of the locomotion servos must have been busted up by the explosion, because somehow the suit didn't have the strength to lift itself up. Suddenly, Dixie became aware of another sound in the canyon; the sound of pained grunts and labored, limping footsteps. Dixie strained her neck to look up; less than twenty feet from her was a Super Mutant, badly burned by the explosion, clutching his super sledge in what remained of his hand.The Mutant looked down at the Knight, struggling to move under the weight of her own armor, and laughed. He limped closer to Dixie, raising his sledge up over its head. No, Dixie thought to herself, I am not going out like some turtle on its back. I am not dying like this. In desperation, she swung out her power-fist clad arm at the Mutant's knee; she felt the gauntlet connect, heard the sound of crunching bone, saw the Mutant's leg twist in a very unnatural angle. The Super Mutant roared in pain and started to fall. Dixie grabbed a hold of his arm and pulled herself to her feet, at the same pulling the Mutant down to the ground. Dixie wrestled the sledge out of his hands, and with a ferocious yell brought it down on the Mutant's head, splitting it like a melon.Breathing a sigh of relief, Dixie dropped the sledge and took a moment to admire her own carnage. Assorted bits of Super Mutants were scatted about the canyon; the spot where the car had once been was now the center of a crater of molten glass. Dixie was thankful she'd taken some Rad-X as a precaution earlier; she didn't want to think about the kinds of radiation she might have been exposed to. She could see signs of movement among the corpses; more than a few of the Mutants had survived, but after that blast it'd be a while before they were in any condition to come after her. Still, it was probably not wise to stick around anymore, a column of smoke was rising above the canyon, which would surely attract all kinds of attention. Dixie picked up her laser rifle from where it had landed in the sand, and slowly started climbing back up the ridge. Her patrol hadn't been too far from the old I-35 highway when they'd found the car; if she got back to that, at least she'd have a road leading back in the direction of civilization. She'd taken note of a few ruined towns along the road on their way out, With any luck, in one of them she might find supplies to last her the long, long march back to the Brotherhood.[For Science!]

(IC - Dixie) Dixie poked her head out from behind the rock, lining a target in her sights and squeezing down on the trigger of her laser rifle. Three bursts of light flared through the air and struck a Super Mutant dead in the chest, flesh and bone burning away into ash. Nearby, the Knight ripped the pin from a frag grenade and hurled it up the slope, exploding in a blast that felled two more of the brutes."Get out from behind that car!" Dixie shouted towards the Knight, ducking for cover as bullets pinged off the boulder just inches from her head."Why?" he shouted back. "Safer than anywhere else right now, isn't it?""Yeah... but it's also got a nuclear reactor in the trunk!"As another round of bullets hit the automobile, it instantly clicked in the Knight's mind why being next to it might be a bad idea. He rose to try and join Dixie over behind the rocks... when a super sledge came down on him with a sickening crunch, the helmet of his Power Armor crumpling like a tin can. The Super Mutant the hammer was attached to came bounding over the car towards Dixie; she dropped him to the ground with a burst from her laser rifle, leaving a burning hole in the mutant's chest.But more still were descending the slope, faster than Dixie could shoot them down. Her laser rifle illuminating the canyon walls with red light as she fired in a wide arc to slow their advance, looking for a position to fall back to before she was completely overrun.(IC - Nil) Nil didn't waste too long taking in the gruesome sight; living as long as he did in the wasteland, he'd seen enough awful sights that even this wasn't enough to phase him. He drew his service pistol and slowly advanced across the room, eyes sweeping every corner of the room. Whoever did this could still be in the area."I recommend we sweep the building. Make sure whoever did this ain't still around," he suggested to Hanlon. "Don't suppose that writing means anything to you? I'm drawing something of a blank here..."[For Science!]

[OOC] Yeah, I freely admit my posting here has fallen a bit on the wayside. Blame college for taking up most of my time, and independent writing projects for taking up the rest. Also, I'm sure Netflix figures into that somehow. I am trying to see if I can't break back into this RPG; I'd say if anyone wants to interact with Hivemind to feel free, but best as I can tell, everyone is pretty firmly tied up in their own plots at the moment, so... yeah. And in the interest of getting back into this, I think I'm probably going to retire Mystic from PC status (cause, to be honest, she was kind of boring and didn't do a lot), and start out a new (well, new in the sense they weren't a PC before) character:Real Name: Miles AndersonAlias: The TechnicianAppearance: A youthful and energetic teen, with blonde hair and green eyes. Wears a bright green supersuit trimmed with white and gold patterns, a white labcoat with gold cuffs, and a green visor. Right hand covered by a small silver gauntlet.Power: None, relies on his technological prowess. The Technician's arsenal at present consists of: -- His visor, equipped with identification software linked with League and police databases, and a built-in comm system. -- The Power Glove, a small, lightweight metal gauntlet worn on his right hand. Possesses a targeting sensor that allows him to remotely send commands to the Cricket and call it too him, along with what Miles insists upon referring to as his "near-death ray" - a small laser weapon that delivers unpleasant but typically nonlethal damage. -- The Cricket, a small mechsuit, colored green, white, and gold, standing at aprox. 3.3 meters tall. Armaments consist of one variable-strength laser cannon mounted on the left arm, a bladed pincer-claw mounted on the right, and two missile pods containing four missiles each. Possesses flight capabilities thanks to a set of thrusters on the mechsuit's back and stabilizing thrusters in the legs, but its maneuverability in the air is limited due to the suit's bulkiness. -- Goldbug, Miles' robotic assistant and companion. One of his earliest creations, it has the appearance of a mechanical beetle, covered in polished gold plating, about 25 cm. long. Houses a simple AI system that Miles has tinkered with over the years to the point it can successfully imitate conversation with few errors. Goldbug possesses flight capabilities and a small 'stinger' laser beam, but her primary tool is the set of sensory equipment mounted in his pincers, which help analyze a threat and provide Miles with tactical information. Attaches to compartment on the back of the Cricket for storage and to recharge her power cells. Allegiance: League of SalvationArea: New York CityBio: Miles Anderson comes from a long line of scientists; he is in fact the ninth in his family to bear the mantle of The Technician. Unfortunately, the science practiced by The Technicians that came before him was strictly of the “mad” variety; a lineage of supervillains stretching back even before the word “supervillain” was thought up. Despite the wishes of his father that he continue with the family business, Miles secretly wished to put his mechanical knowledge to a more practical use. With the help of a superhero named Fade, Miles was persuaded to help bring his father to justice, and shortly thereafter decided his talents would be best applied in service of the League.Miles had developed quite a few creations under his father's tutelage, but insisted they all be either destroyed or placed into storage, wishing instead to start over fresh. The only exception to this was his robotic companion Goldbug, who for most of his adolescent life was close to his only friend and companion. The scope of his creations has been smaller since doing so, due to the limits on what the League is willing to fund (and secretly, Miles suspects they are reluctant to allow an almost-supervillain to build something big enough to level a city block), but he has managed to put together a mech-suit he feels is sufficient towards the task of fighting evildoers. With the aid of the League, Miles hopes he can help to balance out the wrong the previous Technicians have caused. But with eight generations of evil looming over him, this task might be beyond even Miles' capabilities... --- [iC: Miami, FL] Dislodging into a flurry of wasps, Hivemind poured through the slot in the teller's window, reforming herself together on the other side. Picking up the device from where the teller had dropped it, she slunk over to a nearby computer and plugged it into the USB slot. With a few taps on the keyboard a window popped up, displaying a series of progress bars slowly filling as they went through the banks servers.A familar sound caught Hivemind's ear; the wail of police sirens drawing closer. Glancing out the window, she could see several police cars forming a perimeter outside the bank's entrance. Hivemind sighed. The cops themselves weren't likely to be trouble; unless someone got a swelled head and tried to play a hero, they would probably just hang back once they realized they were dealing with a metahuman. They simply just didn't get payed enough to deal with that sort of thing.But they would inevitably run crying to the League once they saw how sorely outclassed they were, and that was when things were likely to go pear-shaped for the whole operation. Spotting the teller trying to crawl away, Hivemind buzzed over to him, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against a desk."Did you forget what I told you about silent alarms?" she asked in a low hiss. "Well, now we get to play a fun little game. I like to call it 'lets see how many cicadas can crawl into your ears before the noise drives you completely insane'..."A sudden DING! broke Hivemind's train of thought; she dropped the man to the floor and glanced at the computer. All the progress bars were filled up with green, the transfer completed. Hivemind smiled, ripping the device from the computer and throwing it to the floor. It crumpled into broken plastic and crushed circuitry under her boot as she stepped over it, making her way towards the exit. She paused at the door, turning back towards the terrified teller struggling to pull himself off the floor."Looks like you're saved by the bell, old man," she said. "By the way, I hope you understand that whole cicada thing wasn't personal. I mean, if I let you off easy, what would the rest of the hostages think? So... no hard feelings, then? Cool."Hivemind strode out of the bank, throwing the double doors open wide. She took a few steps towards the wall of cops standing in front of her, her swarm buzzing around her. Shotguns and pistols raised cautiously, just in case she got too close. Some suit with a bullhorn was shouting something about getting down on the ground with her hands over her head, but naturally Hivemind wasn't bothering to listen to him."Y'know, you guys... I'm not sure you appreciate just what an amazing world we live in," she said. A few of the police looked puzzled, unsure why the bank robber was suddenly trying to talk casual with them, but Hivemind paid them no mind. "I mean, just like five years ago, if I wanted to rob this bank, I'd have had to take it all out in bags with cartoon dollar signs on them. I'd have to carry that all out myself, which I don't know if you know, but that's hard to do as a giant cloud of insects."Hivemind grinned, her swarm starting to buzz louder."But everything's online now; if I wanna steal some money, I can just do it digitally. Which, most relevant to you, means I'm unencumbered enough to do THIS!"Hivemind burst forth into her swarm form, buzzing between cop cars. A few officers who lacked the common sense to take cover from the stinging insects opened fire; the shock from the gunshots stunned or killed the few bugs unfortunate enough to get in the crossfire, but it wasn't enough to stop Hivemind. The swarm buzzed past them, rising high up into the air and buzzing across the Miami skyline.[For Science!]

(IC - Nil) "I'll stick close by, if it's all the same to you," said Nil, following Hanlon down the street. "I was sent here to guard an ambassador, not some high-tech tricycle." Plus, if what he'd heard about the Resurgence Church's treatment of Ghouls was true, Nil didn't want to spend much time alone in this city alone. Not that he'd ever verbalize those fears, but he understood the importance of safety in numbers either way. [For Science!]

[iC: Miami, FL] The mid-day sun was casting down bright shafts of light through the glass facade of the bank, and the loud humming of the air conditioning unit told the teller that it was about to break again. He sighed, wiping beads of sweat off his brow. He didn't know how many times he'd told his boss they needed to replace the old thing. They just didn't have the money for it, his boss would say; the teller wanted to ask just what sort of bank didn't have money, but he didn't because he wanted to keep his job.The line moved up, and a woman in a bright yellow sundress approached the bank window. She had a large bag slung over her arm, her short reddish-orange hair almost covered by her large, floppy hat and a pair of almost comically oversized sunglasses took up most of her face. The teller grumbled under his breath; bank policy forbade people from wearing hats or shades or anything like that which could conceal their face from the security cameras. But in a town like this no one ever bothered, and his boss would yell at him about it even though there was nothing he could do to get them to listen."Welcome to BankSun, how may I help you today?" the old man asked, with the sort of forced helpfulness that completely failed to conceal the weariness in his voice.The woman leaned in close, flashing the teller a bright smile. She lowered her shades just enough to fix a pair of vibrant green eyes on him."Hi, there! If it's not enough trouble, I'd like to make a withdrawal."She reached into her bag, and slid a small object through the teller's window. The old man picked up and looked at in confusion. It looked like a small silver box with a series of blinking lights on the side, a small cable connecting to it that looked like it was supposed to connect to a computer."I... I-I'm sorry... I don't understand what-""Oh, don't worry about it. It's a really complicated science thing, you don't need to know what it's called, but what it does is hack into all your accounts and transfer out all their money, bounce it between enough dummy accounts to baffle anyone trying to trace it, then deposits it into my own offshore account. If you could just plug it into your computers, that'd just be peachy."The teller simply stared blankly at the woman, holding the device at arms length as if unsure what to do with it."Oh... I'm sorry! Did I forgot to mention? This is a robbery. That's probably what I should have opened with..."Tensing slightly, the teller placed the device down on the counter. As inconspicuously as he could, he slipped his hand beneath his desk, feeling around for the little red button that would alert the police of a robbery. Suddenly a sharp sting shot through his arm; the teller jerked it back in pain, a few wasps buzzing out from under his desk and flitting across the room."Aww, were you trying to pull the old 'silent alarm' trick on me?" asked the women in the same voice one would use on a misbehaving toddler. "Just don't try it again, and I won't let the next one to sting you be poisonous."She suddenly turned away from the window, facing the other people gathered in the bank."...And the same goes for all of you, too!" she shouted. "You know what happens to people who want to play hero? They either wear garish tights, or they wind up dead! Both fates all of you should want to avoid!"A security guard rose from his chair in the far corner of the room and approached the woman, his hand reaching down towards the holster on his hip."Ma'am... I think it'd be best for everyone if you came with me, please."The woman glanced over her shoulder at the approaching guard and flashed a mad grin."You're right, it probably would be for the best," she said. "Heeeeeey, speaking of bees..."She swung around, hurling her bag into the air. A horrifying buzzzzzzzz filled the air, and bursting forth from the bag came a swarm of very angry bees. The guard screamed, dropping his gun and swatting in desperation as they stung at his face. The other patrons ran shrieking for the exit or ducked down low as the swarm circled over them. The woman was enveloped in the cloud of swarming insects; when they dissipated the sundress and hat were gone, replaced by a sleek black-and-yellow supersuit and a pair of small, orange sunglasses. Hivemind let out a delighted cackle as bees swarmed around the bank, covering the handles of the doors to discourage anyone from leaving."Alright, now if I were one of you schmucks, I wouldn't move!! Bees tend to take that as a sign of aggression, y'know! Now me, I've got business to take care of! Try anything clever, you'll be up to your eyeballs in insects, got it?"[For Science!]

(IC - Nil) Nil extended his own hand and shook Hanlon's firmly. "Most folks just call me Nil. S'pose you can too." [For Science!]

(IC - Nil) "It's my impression that certain people down in that town... don't take kindly to my sort of people, sir," Nil said, holstering his weapon. "Mind you, they're probably none too keen on NCR ambassadors either, but it's still something you should take under consideration. Now, me personally? I'm keen to go, if just to ruffle the feathers of those Resurgence Church whackjobs." [For Science!]

(IC - Nil) Nil didn't respond immediately, taking a moment to unload the last few rounds from his pistol into a target. He discarded the empty clip as he turned to face Hanlon. Nil had heard all sorts of rumors spread among the troops about this Ranger, but it was a subject in which he had absolutely no interest. Even if he did, he was hardly in any position to judge a man for having secrets."Yeah, more than a few. It's whether the little twerps knew how to follow orders that was generally the problem," he said, sliding another clip into his pistol as he talked. "Why do you want to know?"[For Science!]

(IC - Dixie Hawkins) ♫ Maybe it's just for a day / Love is as changeable as the weather / And after all, how little we know / Who knows why an April breeze never remains /Why stars in the trees hide when it rains... ♫"Look, sir! I got the radio to work!"Dixie poked her head through the window of the disused automobile her fellow Knight was fiddling with, flashing him a friendly smile."That's nice; the whole Brotherhood commends you for your ingenuity. Now, would you please turn it off before you let the entire Wasteland know our position? Sound travels pretty far in a desert, y'know."The Knight's hands nervously fumbled at the dashboard until the found the dial to switch off the radio. "Sorry 'bout that, sir.""Fine, fine, just don't let it happen again, we clear?"Dixie stepped back from the car, the entire chassis lifting a few inches off the ground as the weight of her power armor was lifted off it. They'd found this automobile lying in at the bottom of a ridge out in the Texan wastes; their patrol might have walked right by it Dixie hadn't noticed a brief glint of metal. Further up the ridge, the Paladin that rounded out their patrol was approaching her."I really don't like us sticking around here, Hawk. A place like this is just begging for an ambush," he said. "You know... there are plenty of cars within the city limits.""Yeah, and they're a waste of time. Scavengers have already picked most of the good stuff clean, the vultures," said Dixie. "I'll bet this baby's engine is mostly intact, and it looks like the ridge saved it from the worst of the desert weather."The Paladin gave a critical glance towards the dented and rusty frame of the vehicle."Only think that hunk of junk is gonna be good for is scrap metal. Let's go.""That 'pile of scrap metal' was powered by a nuclear reactor. If we could figure out how to build our own, we'd finally have electricity," Dixie explained patiently. "Not to mention, if we examine it we could build vehicles to compete with those NCR bikes. Also, cupholders. Those are important too.""Fine, fine," the Paladin sighed. "Just do what we need to do, then we get out of here.""Yes, yes, fine. I need to take a look under the hood, see how much of it is still in working condition," she said, moving over closer to the car. "It's too big for us to move on our own, so we'll have to rustle up some brahmin to tow it back to base-"A loud BANG echoed through the ravine, and inches away from Dixie the car's mirror exploded in a shower of broken glass. Dixie broke into a run, diving as nimbly as her power armor would let her behind a rock for cover."Snipers! Get down!"The Knight followed suit, immediately diving behind the car for cover. A few more bullets pinged off the Paladin's armor, he whirled around and fired a few shots from his laser rifle in the direction they came from. A lucky shot shattered the eyepiece of his helmet, and he crumpled to the ground in a heap of metal. Hulking shapes were sprouting up along the top of the ridge, and Dixie recognized them immediately."We've got Super Mutants incoming!" --- (IC - Nil) Nil marched down towards the furthest open space at the firing range, ignoring a rookie punk making some sort of trick shot on a target. Sure, it must have taken him weeks to perfect, but if he tried a stunt like that in the field he'd wind up dead before he got his first shot off. In war, it payed to be simple but efficient.Taking his place, Nil loaded his pistol and took aim at the nearest target. He fired off three shots in quick succession; the first two struck the dummy square in the chest, with the last one in the head for good measure. Not pausing to admire his handiwork, Nil moved on and started blasting at the next closest target.[For Science!]

(IC - Nil) ♫ In my solitude you haunt me / With reveries of days gone by / In my solitude you taunt me / With memories that never die... ♫With a bitter growl, Nil raised his head from his bunk and glared at the private listening to the radio across from him."You mind listening to that garbage somewhere else?" he asked in a low, raspy voice. "I've only got a hour's break, and I'd like to get a little shut-eye during that.""Do you zombies even need to sleep?" the private asked incredulously."Yes, as a matter of fact, we do," Nil replied through gritted teeth. "We 'zombies' need to get our eight hours of sleep, or else we go crazy and start biting the necks of people who ask stupid questions.""That's the biggest load of bull I've heard this week," said the private. "I bet you're just making that up.""Then leave that radio on, and you'll find out.""What you got against my music, anyhow?" asked the private. "I'd think you of all people would have a little more respect for the classics...""Yeah, well it was already a classic way back when I was a smoothskin like you," said Nil. "Can I be blamed for wishing that, in nearly three hundred years, somebody would be bothered to make some new music?"Snarling to himself, Nil got out of bed and laced up his boots."Forget it. If anyone needs me, I'll be down at the firing ranges," he muttered, stepping out of their tent and marching off. "Maybe constant weapon fire will be enough to drown out your blasted racket..."[For Science!]

(IC - Danny Burton) ♫ ...I'm making believe that you're in my arms / Though I know you're so far away / Making believe, I'm talking to you / Wish you could hear what I say ♫The dulcet sounds of Bill Kenny and Ella Fitzgerald roused Danny Burton from his sleep. With a tired groan, he rolled off the dirt-stained, parasite ridden excuse for a mattress he'd been sleeping on onto the floor, his good hand groping about the nightstand searching for the dial on that blasted radio.♫ And here in the gloom of my lonely room / We're dancing like we used to do / Making believe is just another way of dreaming / So 'til my dreams come truuuu- ♫The music faded out with a mechanical hum as the tubes in the radio cooled down. Danny pulled himself to his feet, slipping into the pair of pants lying at the foot of his bed. Slowly, Danny forced his body to drag itself across the room. At some point, long before the war, this building had been one of the oldest, fanciest hotels in Austin; a few hundred years of neglect and exposure to the elements had changed that. The ceiling was cracked and sagging, the wallpaper faded and peeled away, a thin layer of grime covered the window that hadn't been boarded up. Looters had long since come through and removed most of the valuables, leaving only the nightstand and dresser; Danny had had to drag the mattress up from one of the other rooms. The room had a bathroom connecting to it, but Danny didn't think taking a shower was worth the potential radiation dose.He fumbled with the latch on the dresser, then pulled on his shirt and laced up his boots. He turned his attention to the dresser's bottom drawer, latched in place with a heavy padlock. Opening the drawer, Danny slowly removed its contents, laying them out one by one on the floor. The first was an old set of brass knuckles; it always felt a little awkward slipping onto a four-fingered hand, but in his condition his punches needed the extra world of hurt they brought to the table. Next was his shotgun, a weapon with the sort of spread to it which made accuracy optional. And finally there was his revolver, a weapon a Regulator could be proud of - if he could shoot straight with it anymore, that was.Grumbling, Danny strapped the revolver into his holster, then reached for his coat. The knuckles he slipped into the pockets for ease of access, the shotgun he stowed concealed beneath the folds of the long duster. It was quite the arsenal to take out for a morning stroll, especially considering he was probably just strolling down to the nearest bar to get wasted while looking for potential jobs. But in a city like this, it never hurt to be prepared for the worst. Finally, Danny pulled on his hat, adjusting the brim down low to shield his face from the harsh Texan sun. He locked the door to his makeshift home behind him, heading down the long hallway towards the stairs out of this place.[For Science!]

Approved by Ra's Al Ghul:Username: Chronicler of Ko-KoroName: Danny BurtonAppearance: A ragged looking man, with uncombed sandy blonde hair, a rough beard, and steely gray eyes that always seem as if theyre staring off somewhere in the distance. Wears a dirt-stained gray shirt, black pants and combat books under a weathered leather duster and fedora that have clearly seen better use long ago. Strapped to his left thigh is a holster for his revolver. Right hand missing pinky finger; wears glove over this hand to hide his injury.Affiliation: Unaffiliated civilianAge: 34Specialization: Guide & hired gun. Self-taught survivalist, tracker, and medic from in-the-field experience. Skilled as a marksman, but significantly handicapped by his injury.Equipment: Lever action shotgun, .44 Magnum revolver, brass knuckle, a couple of stimpacks, and a small metal flash either filled or recently filled with whiskey at any given time.Bio: Earlier in his life, Danny Burton hailed from a region of the wastes that, pre-war, had once been Kentucky. He served as a member of the Regulators, a group of vigilante bounty hunters born out of the Capital Wasteland dedicated to preserving order and punishing wrongdoers. A Regulator would hunt down a mark, and take a finger from the corpse as proof to collect their bounty.Danny was one of the best; some said that hed track a target across miles of irradiated wastes rather than let him slip away, that he could hold the line against an army of raiders, and that he could hit any target he could see, and even some he couldnt. Such claims were exaggerated, of course, and Danny did plenty to encourage the spread of such tall tales. A scared mark was more likely to make mistakes, after all; plus, Danny had to admit he liked the reputation it gave him.But Danny made the mistake of crossing the wrong man. Hed begun having suspicions about one of his fellow Regulators; disappearing at odd hours, strange recountings of his kills which never quite added up. Danny assumed the worst that was going on was that the man was fudging his records somehow, lying about the circumstances. What he discovered trailing him one night was much worse; the Regulator had cut a deal with a group of slavers, sparing their lives in exchange for a cut of their profits. He even dumped his targets off on the slavers rather than killing them, taking a finger off them to bring back to the Regulators and reap the reward from both sides.Danny wasn't about to let that stand. Perhaps believing a little too much in his own reputation, he charged into the slaver camp, guns drawn and blazing. To his credit, he managed to take down more than a few of the bandits before they had a chance to react, cutting a path in blood and lead towards the renegade Regulator. But once the element of surprise had worn off, he was only one man - one man armed to the teeth with firearms and ammunition, mind you, but one man nonetheless - against dozens. Statistics were not in his favor.First, he took a bullet to the knee, then two in the shoulder. Barely able to walk or aim, Danny kept up his charge towards the Regulator, intending to reach him or go down shooting. But the Regulator had other ideas; in addition, he also had a shotgun. Danny took a round of buckshot straight to the gut, knocking all the wind out of his charge and dropping him to the ground. Danny lay there, coughing up blood and trying to keep his insides where they belonged. As his vision blurred, he saw the Regulator standing over him, a bowie knife in one hand. He felt a hand grab hold of his wrist; there was a spasm of pain unlike any he ever felt before, and then it all went black.The next few days were nothing more than a blur of suffering and agony; Danny was never sure if he was awake or out, even if he was alive or dead. The next time he woke up fully cognizant, he was in chains on a slaver caravan headed out west, bloodstained bandages covering where his pinky finger used to be. The Regulator had taken his finger, and left him there under the assumption Danny wouldnt survive to see the next sunrise. But even with more lead in his body than blood, Danny had stubbornly refused to die, fighting to stay on the brink of deaths door for over a week. Forced to decide what to do with the very angry lawman on their hands, the slavers chose the most profitable option and sold him off, figuring he would be someone elses problem then.During the next four long years Danny was bounced between one owner to the next, each transaction taking him further and further away from the Kentucky wastes. At first he tried to escape, but his injuries had left his body a broken mess, and he could barely hold a gun straight enough to shoot after what the Regulator had done to his hand. So Danny bided his time, building up his strength in secret while enduring the abuses his captors heaped upon him. Finally, one night he snuck up behind a guard, strangled him to death with a length of chain, and escaped into the night.Danny wandered in the desert, lost and starved, for days before stumbling upon a brahmin farm and collapsing at their door. He was slowly nursed back to health by the family who lived there, and from them learned that he was in the middle of the Texan wasteland. Danny thanked them for their hospitality and went on his way. He spent the next few weeks drifting between dive bars in frontier towns, trying to acquire passage back home and listening for any rumors. He finally found someone whod heard of the Kentucky Wasteland Regulators, but the news he had was anything but good. The Regulator had taken Dannys finger back to his superiors, framing him for the deal with the slavers. Not only did they think Danny was dead, they thought he was a traitor.Danny lost all purpose. He spent the next six years in an alcohol-induced haze, drifting aimlessly about the Texan wasteland until he found himself in Austin. He started teaching himself to shoot with his left hand; he was starting to make progress, but he was still nowhere near what he once was. To keep himself afloat and to pay his bar tab, Danny started offering himself out as a guide and hired gun to interested parties moving through the Texan wastes. The pay is rarely great, but its enough to keep Danny going another day.In the dank, run down bars Danny tends to frequent, he hears all sorts of rumors about the mounting tensions between the Texan Union and the NCR. He doesn't think much of it, and extends an equal disdain for both sides. Back in the Regulators, no one cared much who you worked for, just what you had done. The only thing that matters about the conflict, as far as Danny is concerned, is the little folk who are gonna get caught in the middle of it.Username: Chronicler of Ko-KoroName: Dixie HawkinsAppearance: Short, wild blonde hair, vibrant green eyes. When out in the field or in combat, wears Brotherhood T-45d power armor, with the Brotherhood sigil painted on the left shoulder, and a red-tailed hawk clasping a nuke with its claws on the right. When off duty, wears a beige tank top, military-green cargo pants, and combat boots.Affiliation: Brotherhood of SteelAge: 23Specialization: Brotherhood Knight. A skilled fighter, trained in energy weapons, hand-to-hand combat, and power armor, and knowledgeable in pre-war history and technology, specifically its repair and modification.Equipment: Laser rifle, power fist, small supply of Med-X, Rad Away, Rad-X and stimpacks.Bio: Born into a family of caravan traders, when Dixie Hawkins was five her family set out from Primm towards the Texan Union, hoping to start a trade route which could compete with the larger Crimson Caravan Company. Unfortunately, their haste to find a quicker route took them far off the beaten path and right into a radscorpion nest. Her family was slaughtered almost instantly, and Dixie barely escaped with her life. Limping across the barren Texas wastes, Dixie took shelter in a crumbling pre-war library. She discovered the encampment of a raider who had the same idea to hide out there, only to get his leg caught in his own bear trap and bleed to death. But his morbid fate turned out to be the key to Dixie's survival; he had left behind enough canned food to last months, if not years, and the traps he had set were enough to deter scavengers from searching the place.At first Dixie simply burned the books for light and warmth during the long, lonesome nights. But as her isolation stretched from weeks into months, Dixie slowly taught herself to read, starting from simple picture books and working her way up. From these books she learned the history of a world long gone, the America that once had been. To the little orphan girl huddled for warmth in a cruel, unforgiving world, the world these books spoke of seemed like paradise by comparison.She found their fiction trashy and derivative, however, and was more than happy to stoke her campfires with them.Dixie had no idea how long she spent living in that library, although the elders would later tell her it was close to two years based off the records of her caravan's departure. Days and nights seemed to blend together, until one day, when a squad of men in metal suits came marching out of the desert up to her library. They broke down the doors, disabling the traps at the entrance, and starting pulling books from the shelves. Terrified, Dixie grabbed a pistol the dead raider had left stashed away and started taking shots at the invaders; those books were all she had left, and she wasn't going to let anyone take them from her.The weathered, badly maintained pistol jammed after only two shots, which did nothing more than leave dents in the intruders' power armor. The "invaders" had been a recon team from the Travis County chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel, sent to secure a possible source of pre-war knowledge. Most of the team was prepared to continue with their mission and ignore the wastelander girl trying to intervene, but one Paladin took pity on her, knowing she would surely die out here once her food supply ran out. Despite the others protests, she brought Dixie back to the Brotherhood and informally adopted her.As she grew older, Dixie learned more about the Brotherhood and its ideals. Their mission to preserve the ways and technology of the old word, the same legendary world she'd read about, instantly resonated with her. She quicky excelled in her training, achieving the rank of Knight. Dixie was assigned with retrieving pre-war technology and finding ways to suit the Brotherhood's needs, a task she pursues with eager enthusiasm. But as she scours the wasteland, searching for weapons and fighting off raiders and Super Mutants, Dixie sees the shadow of the NCR looming closer every day. As far as she sees it, the world the NCR wants to built is an imperfect, flawed shell of the old world the Brotherhood fights to preserve, and that flawed world is the one which killed her parents. And Dixie will do anything to make sure the border of that world stops at Austin.Username: Chronicler of Ko-KoroName: NilAppearance: A Ghoul with darkish, flaky skin, and a few stray strands of brown hair atop his head. Slightly more physically fit than the average ghoul. Typically wears the standard combat armor, helmet, and goggles of an NCR trooper, otherwise wears a military-green shirt, dark pants, boots and a pair of NCR dog tags.Affiliation: New California Republic, GhoulAge: Unknown, but can be presumed to be at least 285Specialization: NCR Army lieutenant. Skilled sniper and marksman, also trained in hand-to-hand combat but not his preferred method of fighting.Equipment: Marksman carbine, 9mm pistol, combat knife, and several frag grenadesBio: Nil probably has a name. No one in the New California Republic army knows what it, though, or even whether he knows it. If he does remember it, hes not eager to share it, and very irritated by anyone who wants to question him about it. For the most part his superiors have seen fit to drop the issue, particularly in light of his exemplary service record. Bets about his real identity are common among his fellow troopers, although most of them wisely dont mention them to his face.They do, however, know that hes lived a very long time, that he was alive back long ago when the first bombs fell. The precise details are not something Nil prefers to share, in no small part because of how jumped they are in his mind. His past is so long he cant keep it straight in his mind, to say nothing of the parts of it hed rather forget. Nil knows he was a soldier back then too, stationed at a base in the old California. The precise details of the life he once lived come and go from day to day, but theres one memory that he can never forget: a wall of flame rising up into the sky, a blast which tore the walls around him to dust and rubble, and heat so terrible it was like standing on the surface of the sun.He dragged himself over smouldering, radioactive rubble for days on end, crawling on his hands and knees as elsewhere, society was crumbling away to nothingness. His hair fell off and his skin started to peel; he was certain he was going to die, and begged desperately with fate just to let him live. As it turned out, fate was willing to grant his request, but in a way far crueler than if it had simply been allowed to die in the molten crater of that nuclear detonation.Wandering alone for weeks among the ruins, he soon found his condition was growing steadily worse. As he watched plants, animals, and people dying around him, he cursed whatever power chose to let him live. Years past without him meeting another living soul. He does not encounter another living soul into six years later, another person unfortunate enough to share his condition. Time went on, he encountered more survivors; at first only others like him, then as the years went by he started encountering normal humans. They shunned and feared the radiation-scarred freak, some even reacting violently, but proving to be no match for the trained soldier.Nil could never quite remember when it was he realized he probably should have died of old age. It was just something that dawned on him eventually, watching the human settlements rise up and expand, the people living their growing old and dying. He also watched his fellow ghouls as their minds slowly degraded with the pressures of age, until they turned feral and he was forced to put them down. It was a fate he did not intend to suffer, and kept himself honed physically and mentally to stay in peak condition. He offered his skills out to whatever mercenary groups would have him; even if they hated him as a ghoul, his training made him a valuable enough asset that they could overlook that.This was how he spent his life for over a hundred years - Nil had long since past the point of caring about counting - until he first heard of the New California Republic. He had been hired by a group of raiders trying to fortify their hideout against the NCR troops that were moving in to help annex the region. Seeing the New California Republic as a government trying to rebuild the world hed lived in and lost, Nil immediately threw down his weapons and went straight to the other side. He gave the troops everything they needed to wipe out the raider camp in exchange for citizenship. Nil soon enlisted in the NCR army and moved up the ranks to lieutenant, gaining a reputation that made sure none of his fellow soldiers would be dumb enough to mistreat him for being a ghoul.When the NCR began moving into the Texas wastes, Nil was appalled when he saw the way the Resurgence Church treated the ghouls living there. Hed spent most of his lonely, miserable existence dealing with that kind of prejudice, and usually only one way: with a bullet. Taking over the territory became more than just his duty as a soldier for him; now, it was a matter of justice. Nil even finds himself sometimes hoping the peace talks will break down, just so he give the Church a demonstration on what a true Ghoul is capable of.[For Science!]

[OOC] Well, out of all those characters, I can definitely identify... uh... mine. (EDIT: Upon further inspection, I'm pretty sure that's Zap over by the pool table; I'd recognize his look of pure panic and desperation anywhere. So that raises my count to... still just mine, actually) Giving one last try and wrapping up this plot and getting everyone back to their proper dimensions. With any luck, it should only take three or four more posts. After that... I dunno. Might try and pick this up again, might now. We'll see. [iC - Fade] Fade's breath hung in the air like a frozen cloud as the trudged through the icy tomb that, at one point in this universe, had been the headquarters of the League of Salvation. But now the building looked more akin to the North Pole than New York; a thick layer of ice, frost, and snow coated the walls, the furniture, and everything else in the building. Fade was reasonably certain the bodies of the mansion's former inhabitants were buried somewhere under the snow, but he was in not in any mood to confirm that.Stella approached the next door, blasting the frozen lock open with a stream of flames. Normally, heading down to the headquarter's basement was as easy as taking a lift down, but normally the building had power, and normally there wasn't a massive tower of ice in danger of coming down on their heads. So instead they would need to find a set of stairs that could take them down to the sub-basements.Longshot marched up to the door and kicked it loose, shards of ice shattering as they were knocked from the frame. Somewhere up above, a great rumbling started, slowly growing louder and closer. The group looked up nervously; Longshot rolled her eyes."Ah, come on, ya cannah blame that on me!" she shouted. "Half tha' ice witch's tower is falling apart up thar, that's all it is...""I... don't think so..." Plasmafire said nervously. "It sounds like... something is coming down."With a awful creak, the ceiling above them split apart. Jagged icicles ripped through the roof, splitting it apart in a shower of debris. Snow and ice came pouring down through the hole, and right in the middle of it was Frigid. She was wearing armor chisteled from ice over her white dress, and her hand was clenched around a frost battle-axe which looked large and sharp enough to cleave off a head in one swipe. From underneath a frozen helmet, a icy glare zeroed in Fade."You... you..." she hissed, pointing a finger at him. "There are not enough words... for all the ways... I'm going to make you suffer..."The axe swung round at Fade's face, he flickered out of phase and let it pass by him harmlessly."Bit slow there, dear," he said, shaking his head. "Why not just freeze me and be done with it?""Maybe... maybe I want your death... to be slow..." Frigid replied, hurling dozens of ice daggers through the air.As Fade ducked behind a frozen sofa to avoid the barrage, Plasmafire and Stella jumped into the fray with a barrage of fireballs at Frigid's frozen armor. They merely fizzled out as the struck - Frigid's control over her element was enough that she could maintain it even in such heat - but the intensity of the attack was forcing her back."Spare me the speech, Frigid. I've what you can do; you should have flash-frozen all of us without even needing to step down here," said Fade as he jumped to his feet. "But right now, your little ice tower is crumbling to pieces. It's taking all your effort just to make sure it doesnt come crashing down on you. I mean, you might be immortal, but I doubt even you could pull yourself together after getting flattened by a few thousand tons of ice."Frigid let out a scream of frustration; a wave of snow rose from the floor and slammed Fade against the wall."Even so... with all my power... I still have enough juice left to squash you flat..."Fade groaned as he picked himself up, turning back to the others."Listen... you guys gotta get down to that Supercharger," he said. "I'll try and keep Frigid occupied as long as I can, then meet you down there."Longshot nodded, loading an explosive arrow into her crossbow to cover their exit. Stella flung a fireball in Frigid's direction and ran for the exit... then stopped suddenly and staggered back. Stella clutched at her chest, crimson droplets splattering onto the icy floor. As she collapsed to the ground another figure stepped over her body,wiping her blood off his wristblade with a dirty rag. Otherfade grinned as he stepped into the light; more bloodstains were smeared on his armor, and Skyra's eyepatch covered his wounded socket."Hello, honey," he said, grinning at Frigid. "Need some help taking out this garbage?"[For Science!]

[iC - Mystic] The landmine's trigger held firmly in place, thankfully failing to blast the two of them to bits as Epsilon stepped off it. Mystic took a few cautious steps back, a shimmering barrier forming a dome over the landmine about a meter in diameter. With that securely in place, Mystic allowed her grasp on the mine to loosen. The device went off with a muffled THWOMPH, contained safely within the psychic barrier. Mystic let the construct fall away, leaving only a smoking crater in the dirt."In the future, do mind where you step," she said to Epsilon, before heading off in the direction of the others.[For Science!]

[iC - Mystic] "Move slowly, and very carefully," Mystic spoke up from behind Epsilon. Her voice was a low hush, yet it was the first audible sign of her approach. "I will hold the trigger in place telekinetically long enough for you to get to a safe distance, but I would advice against any sudden movements that might accidentally trigger it regardless of my intervention. Am I clear?"[For Science!]

[iC - Mystic] "In such a case I do believe the smaller animals can be dealt with by, if you'll excuse my bluntness, a swift kick," replied Mystic, flooding the animals' minds with random thought to further confuse them. "Either way, it should not be enough to further hamper our approach on the Coalition base. Magneta, Loadstone, attempt to alternate magnetic frequencies in random patterns. It may make it harder for the signal to affect the animals. In the meantime, let us make haste."[For Science!]

[iC - Mystic] "Nil claimed the signal was electronic in nature," Mystic replied. "It stands to reason an electromagnetic field could drown it out or dampen its effectiveness."She said nothing as to his suggestion of reading their senses. Mystic didn't have a lot of experience with the minds of animals; her expertise lay firmly within the realm of the human mind. In theory it might be possible - pure, undiluted thought could work across language barriers, perhaps it could also work to some degree across species as well. But the middle of a battle was hardly the place to experiment with these abilities, not without risking leaving herself or others exposed to attack.[For Science!]

[iC - Mystic] "I can generate barriers to slow their advance, but that's about the best i can do," said Mystic, letting loose mental bolts to send animals scattering. "Loadstone, Magneta... working in tandem, could you create an electromagnetic field around this general area? Big enough to encompass us, and as many as the animals as you can manage. We need to create interference in the air around us, sufficient that the Coalition signal will be lost in the static. Hopefully, the animals will calm down without the signal exciting their minds. I believe Nil's abilities would also be useful in helping us drown out the signal."[For Science!]

[iC - Mystic] Mystic threw up a psychic barrier to hamper the animals, then lashed out mentally at them with thoughts of pain. She had little experience controlling the minds of animals - she wasn't even sure she could; perhaps something simple with proper concentration, but complex commands would almost certainly be wasted - but their minds had aura enough for her to sense. A simple mental bolt to the pain receptors ought to send more than a few scattering."Is this truly the best defense the Coalition can muster against us?" she asked bitterly. "Pardon me if I do not tremble before the might of these... woodland critters..."[For Science!]