City of Amnesia
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Author Topic: The Big-Oh! II -- RPG Thread  (Read 41506 times)
Professor Vogler
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I have lived by this, and I will DIE by this!


« on: August 20, 2007, 03:11:20 AM »

OOC: Having talked to Finale, I think it'd mutually agreed that it's time we get this thing rockin'n'rollin'! Grin
I think we've agreed on the setting for the start of this RP to be before Big Fau (again)... So let's get the ball rolling Smiley
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The whirring sound of industrial fans... the chilling whisps of homogenized filtered air from ducts high above... the main meeting floor of Paradigm Tower was designed to be quite intimidating. Beams of artificial sunlight shown down through the glass of the observation deck, which began rotating with a jolt as soon as the Paradigm Committee had entered one of the numerous meeting rooms radiating from the central core-spire.

The committee had seated itself at one end of the table, closest to the slowly rotating deck... a number of folders and papers stacked neatly before them. A brief moment passed before a large desk and group of office furnishings passed one of the room's high walls into view; President Alex Rosewater seated stoicly in his chair. It was at that time that the person who had been summoned by the home office walked in.

"Colonel Dastun," Rosewater said as he rose from his chair, "please, have a seat."

The colonel looked up with an ever present furrow in his brow and walked to his seat... the door behind him closing with a deep thud.

"You see, we've been alerted to some rumors that have been floating around the Military Police."
Rosewater proceeded to walked down the wide stairway to the head of the long table. One of the committee slid an envelope down the table to Dastun

"Oh don't worry, you're in not in any trouble Colonel...quite the contrary. It's just-- "

Dastun's eyes widened with horror as he gripped the sides of the labeled envelope before him. "It-- can't be..." he gasped.

Rosewater smirked... "We'd like your professional opinion on some matters."

A loud crash was heard echoing through the halls... visitors and secretaries glanced down hallways in unison.
Logged

Beautiful Night...
TRIUMPH!!
Tifaria
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« Reply #1 on: August 21, 2007, 10:17:13 PM »

OOC:  Sorry, these are kind of, uh.. non-action-y posts for now, and took much longer to write than they should have given their length.  I didn't want to jump into anything crazy just yet.  


Beck circled his work carefully.  Everything seemed to be in place.  The lightning strike from his previous prison break had given him all these strange memories, and the more things he built, the easier it became.  It was a shame that the RX-3 had been denied its proper glory, but at least he'd managed to escape the police van before being slapped with another 700+ year sentence (with hard labor, to boot).  He rubbed his shoulder absently.  His method of escape was not, perhaps, the best, and had caused him plenty of aches and pains.  He'd been desperate, though.        

"Good job, boys."  Dove and T-Bone grinned like eager puppies waiting for a treat.  They weren't all that bright, but they did what Beck told them and that was good enough for him.  He shooed them off with a wave of his hand and they scuttled from the warehouse.  

Beck's eye twitched suddenly.  He wasn't sure what made him more irritated:  That Crow Boy had successfully humiliated him several times now, or finding out that Crow Boy was the dominus of that stupid black Megadeus.  Either way, his new robot would surely be able to stand up to Roger Smith's.  

Surely.

He circled it again, brushing a hand along its cool metal every so often.  Sometimes he even impressed himself, and that was no easy feat.  



Angel didn't bother sneaking into the Paradigm Co. building anymore-- at least not during the day.  After all, there was nothing illegal about being in the building just because she was no longer Alex Rosewater's secretary.  Alex didn't seem very concerned with what she did anyway, judging by his attitude the last time she'd seen him.  Besides, these days Rosewater was usually in some meeting or another.  She wasn't worried about running into Alex.

It was Alan she tried to avoid.

Today, though, she was in luck, for Alan was nowhere to be seen as of yet.  Alex was in some sort of committee meeting, and Alan was likely off doing some errand or chore on Rosewater's behalf.  She felt free to stroll the halls as she pleased, not really looking for anything in particular.  The real trick to finding out things at Paradigm was acting like you weren't trying to find anything out.  Most people with low-level jobs were only too glad to spread whatever gossip they'd heard, and Angel used this to her advantage at all times.  

Unfortunately, she hadn't learned anything of real value today.  At least, nothing she didn't already know.  That was why she stood now in front of that strange painting on the ground floor, looking up at the swirling clouds and the large, glowing angel in the center.  She looked as if she were reaching for something beyond the borders of the canvas, and Angel still couldn't decide if her expression was one of longing or of pain.  

It made her feel strange, looking at that painting.  And yet she'd stopped to look at it every time she'd come into the Paradigm building.  

A crash interrupted her reverie, coming from an upper floor.  It was faint, and not everyone seemed to notice it at first.  However, it was Angel's job to notice such things.  She stood still for the time being, debating whether it was worth it to go see what had happened.
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Gummi
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« Reply #2 on: August 21, 2007, 11:07:22 PM »

Meanwhile...

Evangeline Celeste Townshend. Beloved wife & mother..

The inscription upon her mother's grave held no comfort for Emilia. It was barely a reminder that a person named Evangeline Townshend lived but it did not nessecarily mean she had truly died. At least if she knew her mother's body lie beneath her feet she could come to terms with her abandonment. Perhaps she could forgive her. Emilia had insane thoughts, morbid ones. There were times when she wanted to claw the earth till she reached her mother. She wanted to look upon her mother's corpse. Emilia was sickened. However her urge to confirm whether or not her father spoke the truth was stronger than her own disgust. But daddy is a liar. Emilia gritted her teeth as she knelt before her mother's grave. She touched the smooth pink marble, slick with droplets of rain. A bust of her mother was engraved into the tombstone. Droplets slid down her visage. Are you crying as well? Emilia felt the moist dirt beneath her fingernails, loose and malleable. She resisted. "What a waste of time. I know this couldn't have been your fate." Emilia at once felt a chill go through her. The emptiness of her own realization. Her mother had gone far away and she would never come for her. This was worse than if she was dead. If she was dead Emilia would have her there, always. Unfortunately for Emilia, she was astute. She knew now that for all these years she'd been confiding to a marble bust resembling her mother. Frigid, unfeeling, unthinking marble.

Emilia stood, throwing down a bouquet of pricey white roses at the foot of the tombstone. At the very least somebody with some sense could steal them and re-purpose them as a gift for someone who truly lied in that cemetary. If she ever saw her mother again, she had something else intentioned for her and it wasn't roses. That's for damn sure.

                                                    ************
"That took you longer than usual."

"Well, I just had so much so say." Emilia's sarcasm would've been obvious to everyone, but it was lost her young company. His name was James Kurt. He was a minor character, who, much to his chagrin, would go through her life just as a mention. For the moment, however, he was blessed with her presense. He was grateful that he'd landed the job as Thomas Townshend's assistant. He had hoped that he would win Emilia's affections and her father's approval. Yes, he would've been the perfect candidate for Emilia. He just had one fatal flaw; her father liked him. That alone was enough to make him repugnant.

"Is father at one of his meetings?" Emilia changed the subject quickly. James had a habit of making a fool of himself. She knew it was all well intentioned but any mention of her mother today and she'd burst into hystronics.

"Of course, you know your father is a very important asset to Paradigm! I bet you he's with Alex Rosewater right at this very moment." He sounded excited. Poor thing.

"Oh, good to be reminded of where his alliances are." Emilia rolled her incandescent brown eyes and flashed a smile, Jame's way. James, as to be expected, melted on the scene. Emilia was one of those girls who had an extra something. She was the personification of word angelical. She had inherited her mother's extraordinary (some would even say foreign) good looks. Her oval face was made beautiful by her shapely eyebrows which delicately rounded a pair of large brown eyes garlanded by long bare lashes. She was Evangeline's image, perhaps in doll form. Had she still posessed her pale blond hair, she would've seemed, from a distance, to be her mother. She had it cut and dyed brown precisely for that reason. Her mother's image saddened her. She came to a point where looking at her reflection would bring back all her recollections of that terrible evening.

"Would you like to leave now?" James sounded hopeful, like his was waiting on a Emilia to give the word so he could wisk her off.

"Yes. I'm all done here."

"Hungry? your father told me to make sure you got a bite to eat."

When father is in one of his board meetings I could be starving and he wouldn't care. Emilia knew that , as always, it was a well intentioned but at that moment she felt highly annoyed by the statement. He was clearly asking her out to lunch, she knew that. He was just using her father as an excuse. That bothered her immensely. She wanted to be honest and say how much but it would be wasted on poor James. She politely declined his invitation.

"Just have the driver take me into the city. I'll find a way to entertain myself there. After that you're free to run over to Paradigm Corp."

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Jim Starluck
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« Reply #3 on: August 22, 2007, 05:43:26 PM »

(Note: This is a modified version of my character's backstory from the MFL. It's not happening at the same time as other posts; it's a flashback. Maybe about the time of R.D.)

Jim did not remember his parents or any family; his earliest recollections were from about age six, when he was living on the streets Outside the Domes. Not an easy life, but he was adept at finding enough food to get by, avoiding trouble, and picking good hiding spots to spend the night.

He was picked up by the Military Police in his early teenage years and sent to a Paradigm-sponsored children's shelter. There he got a modest education and though he ran away from it less than five years later, it allowed him to find a steady job washing dishes and cleaning tables at a diner Inside the Domes. He got a decent apartment with his first paycheck, and lived his life from one day to the next--not unlike he had as a child.

Until the day the Red Megadeus came, anyway.

He had watched the battle between the two armored titans, understood that the Black Megadeus was standing against the Red to defend the city (even with all the collateral damage). And though it was an agent of destruction, Jim could not help but feel awed by the Red Megadeus--so much faster and more agile than its foe, evading attacks seemingly without effort. Even after the Black Megadeus had dropped from the dome and smashed it to pieces, he couldn't shake a sense of wonder at something that huge and powerful flying through the air with the greatest of ease.

The diner he worked at was destroyed during the fight, and while he searched for another job in the weeks following, he felt something calling to him. As if seeing the flying Megadeus had awakened some memory that lay dormant in the back of his mind. Though he was not aware of it, his wanderings gradually took him further out of the city, until one day he turned a corner and found himself staring out at the endless wastelands. The call was even stronger now, and it took all his will to turn away. But he had no intention of resisting forever.

With the last of his money, he bought a decent pack and enough food & water to last him a week or two. Without looking back, he walked out into the desert.

After two weeks of trekking across the sands, with only his instinct to guide him, he came to a vast canyon, wider than a city block and deep enough to swallow skyscrapers. He managed to find his way down to the bottom, and while he was drinking from the river that ambled slowly past...

------


Jim dunked his head in the gloriously clear water. His water canteen had run out two days before, so finding the river was either a miracle or a sign that he was heading in the right direction. Right now, he didn't care which. He shook his head, throwing droplets everywhere, then bent again and drank greedily from the river. When his immediate thirst was sated, he pulled the empty canteen from his pack and began to re-fill it. His legs still ached from walking, so when that was done he settled back against a large, inviting rock. "Think I'll just...take a nap..." he muttered to himself before drifting off into sleep.

------


Gradually stumbling into awareness, Jim opened his eyes to find a pair of deep emerald ones staring back at him. A moment passed before he jumped with surprise; the other person yelped and fell back on her rear.

She was younger than he was--not a child, but no more than eighteen at most. Her long, blonde hair was tied into a ponytail that reached almost to the waist of her scruffy-looking work jeans. She must've liked green--she wore an emerald hair-band and a shirt only a shade or two lighter than her eyes.

Jim had wound up partially sitting on top of the rock he had slept against, and she had scooted away until her back was against a boulder a few yards away. They stared at each other, and neither could shake the feeling that they knew the other somehow...despite the fact they had never met before.

Finally, Jim cleared his throat. "I'm--I'm sorry if I scared you, miss, but you took me by surprise."

She blinked. "No, no--I was surprised as you--I was worried you were dead, you were lying so still..."

"Heh. No, I'm not dead, though my legs certainly feel like it..." he groaned as he sunk back to the ground.

She gave him an odd look. "You're... a traveller?" He nodded.

"Been walking two weeks, and I ran out of water two days ago...stopped to get a drink, sat down, and guess I just drifted off. I don't even know how long I was asleep..."

She thought this over for a moment, then gasped. "You're from the city?!"

He frowned. "Paradigm? Of course...why?"

She stood up, dusting herself off. "I'll have to take you to see Father. He said someone would come eventually." She came over and extended a hand to help him up. "Don't worry, it's not too far." He took the offerred hand and she pulled him up with much more strength than he would've expected from a girl her size. Combined with the fact that her hand was cold--

"You're an android?!"

She nodded. "My father built my brother and I... even though he doesn't remember how. He's old, and--well, you know." Old enough to have lived through whatever had robbed the world of its memories, forty years ago.

She turned and started walking along the riverbank. "Come on!"

Jim blinked, still somewhat confused. "Wait...you never even told me your name!"

She paused, peered over her shoulder, and smirked at him. "My name is Kaisera. Now come on, it's going to get dark soon."

------


The sky was turning red from the sunset as Kaisera led him up a well-worn path to a small cabin, nestled up against a small forest of pine trees that clung to the canyon wall. They passed gardens with plants Jim had never seen before; though presumably the fruits were edible. There was a ryhthmic thok, thok, thok from the back of the cabin. Kaisera led him around.

A young man, older than Kaisera but probably still younger than Jim, was chopping wood in the backyard. He stopped as they approached. "Jim, this is my brother, Greystar. Grey, this is Jim Starluck--he's from Paradigm City." Greystar raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing. "Greystar's vocal circuits burnt out several years ago," Kaisera explained apologetically. Greystar simply shrugged, obviously used to it by now. He gestured at the cabin--smoke was coming from the chimney--where someone was apparently cooking dinner.

Kaisera opened the door. "Father?" she pulled Jim in by the wrist. "This is Jim... he came from--"

"Paradigm City. It was bound to happen sooner or later." answered the man getting up from the table. If Jim had expected a feeble old scientist he would've been sadly dissappointed: though old, the man was obviously in shape. He put down the knife he'd been chopping a carrot with and extended his hand. "Welcome. You've good timing, now I can cook enough for two." Jim took his hand and shook it, surprised at the grip--he definitely kept in shape--but not nearly as much as he had been with Kaisera. Her father was clearly human. "So, young Jim...what brings you out this far?" he asked, smirking to himself as if enjoying a private joke.

Jim explained over the vegetable-and-fruit dinner, telling them about the battle between the Black and the Red Megadeus, and the strange urge he felt driving him into the desert. He didn't notice, but during his tale the two androids and their father glanced at one another knowingly. As Greystar was collecting the dishes, the old man sat back in his chair with a thoughtful expression. "I see...then it's finally time. Kaisera, tomorrow morning I want you to take Jim here and...show him around. But for now, lad, you look like you could use a good night's in a real bed."

-----


As Jim slept, strange dreams wandered through his head. Dreams of the battle, of clouds, a sense of soaring high in the sky, and of something calling his name. He only dimly remembered them when he awoke, refreshed and well-rested after his trek across the desert. Yawning, he looked up to see Kaisera watching him from a chair by the table. "Morning, sleepy-head. You ready?"

After an excellent breakfast, they set off down the river, in the opposite direction from where she had found Jim. They walked for quite some time... and when Jim asked where they were going, Kaisera simply smirked and said "You'll see soon enough."

As they walked, Jim puzzled over the girl leading him. "Kaisera... wait a minute." She stopped and turned to face him. "Do you mind if I ask a personal question?" he finally said.

"Not at all," she replied.

"You're an android, and you said your father built you but didn't remember how... but you don't act like any android I've ever met, and I've known a few. You're more..." he paused to find the right word. "...human."

She smiled and looked down, and Jim could've almost sworn he saw color in her cheeks. "I'll take that as a compliment, so thank you. And yes, I know. I've never met another android besides Greystar, but Father told us that we were different. We're both more than forty years old, though, so..." she trailed off, then shrugged. "Neither of us, or Father for that matter, knows how or why. It's just the way we've always been." She glanced back up at him. "It's not a problem, is it?" she asked worriedly.

"No, no, it's alright," said Jim hastily. "Not a problem at all." He smiled. "In fact, I like this better than I would if you were like any other android." Something subtle changed in her expression as Jim realized how that sounded, and he pushed on before she could ask. "It makes sense, really, if your father's out here all alone. He probably didn't want to be lonely."

Kaisera was still looking at him funny, but nodded. "We should get going," she said after a moment. Jim nodded in return, and they resumed their journey.

Eventually they came to a sturdy door, set into the canyon wall. Kaisera pulled out a key and opened the heavy padlock, then swung it open. A staircase descended into darkness. Jim looked down, then glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes. "Just go on in. There's nothing that's going to bite you." He stepped down and she followed, turning on a series of lights set into the walls when she closed the door.

The stairs were actually quite short, reversing once and leading to an elevator. They climbed in and Kaisera turned it on; it immediately dropped down at a speed that worried Jim but didn't seem to phase his guide. After a few moments of descent, the rock face vanished and they entered a vast, cavernous space, the extent of which was not illuminated by the single, feeble light on the elevator. It stopped at a catwalk that went off into the darkness. Kaisera walked down it confidently and stopped at a control panel right on the edge of the light.

She put her hand on a large switch, turned to Jim, and said "Brace yourself." He expected lights to activate when she threw it, and they did.



What he did not expect was the Megadeus they illuminated.

The massive robot stood surrounded by gantries and work ladders, but the overall shape of it was discernable. It was the same general shape as the Black or Red Megadeus, except its metal skin was a gleaming silver with blue stripes here and there. Its eyes were dark, cold...and it radiated an aura of sleeping, of waiting.

Kaisera led a stunned and speechless Jim down the catwalk and up a gantry that brought them level with what was obviously the cockpit. "Father, Greystar and I have been keeping him in perfect condition for the last forty years--knowing that someday, someone would come from Paradigm City to awaken him. Someone drawn by urges they couldn't explain. His name is Big Avenger."

Jim, still somewhat in shock, repeated her blindly: "Big... Avenger?"

The eyes of the Megadeus lit up, flashing with a brilliant blue-white. Kaisera smirked. "I think he likes you."

No longer aware of his own actions, Jim slowly made his way down the catwalk leading to the cockpit. There was a chair, surrounded by controls, facing three circular viewscreens. Almost on instinct, he swung himself over the controls. He sat, slowly, reverently, as though the chair was fragile--but it was comfortable, perfectly suited--the chair he hadn't realized he'd been looking for all his life.

The three viewscreens lit up, all the other controls began to whir as they came to life, and across the central and largest screen words began to scroll:

CAST IN THE NAME OF GOD... YE NOT GUILTY
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If at first you don't succeed, get a bigger starship and try again.
Xel
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« Reply #4 on: August 23, 2007, 04:42:36 PM »

Elsewhere.

---

"Wake him up."

The first thing Alan saw was light.

"Can you hear me?"

The initial glare failed more and more until human shapes distinguished themselves against their featureless background--a dozen black eyes set into white walls and scrubs and flesh. He sat up, and then they all descended upon him in unison.

"Don't get up yet," exclaimed the chief surgeon. "Sudden bending of your spine is the last thing you need right now. You need to let yourself adjust gradually. Only one thing at a time." His gaze followed a technician as she attended to the bags and monitors at the patient's bedside, then turned his attention back to him. "Vision normal?"

Alan was frowning. "It's bright in here."

"It's quite dark in here, actually, comparatively speaking. As I said, adjustment. You'll naturally experience some permanent increase in sensitivity to light, as long as your visual network operates within its current parameters, but most of what you see now should subside in a short time.

"You sat up just now. Am I right in assuming that the pain is manageable?"

At that, Alan smiled thinly, glancing at his colorless face reflected on the side of a nearby metal tray--gray lips, gray skin, all boring and nothing--and then down to the surreptitious IV tube vanishing into the inside of his elbow just above his metal arm. With a note of satisfaction, he replied, "I don't feel anything."

"Good. Then, slowly, we're going to stand you up. Don't go making any sharp movements. Just tell us if anything feels wrong. Gentlemen, ladies? Carefully, now."

Somehow Alan could sense the floor on the soles of his feet before he came anywhere near it, but his dead legs buckled immediately under his weight. His attendants steadied him, supporting him entirely, while the chief looked on.

A tech huffed. "It's a wonder you're even capable of communicating, the meds we've got you on, much less stand. It would probably be safer just to sleep, if we didn't need your feedback."

"Seems everything went smoothly, though," said the chief, pulling off a bloody latex glove with a snap. "I'll have Mr. Rosewater notified that you're out."

"It feels good."

Alan gave a dull look to the IV tugged loose from his arm as they settled him back, and the closest nurse reinserted it after a small flail.

Brightly: "Good! Rest for now."

Alan looked forward to seeing what he could do when he woke.
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The Big Finale
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« Reply #5 on: August 23, 2007, 06:00:33 PM »

Inside the domes, the weather nature had intended for the day was never an issue. It was always sunny, or a variation thereof. Some days it would be sunny with a bit of clouds. Other days, like the current one, it was sunny with a light breeze curling through and over the towering buildings. They were stifling things, the buildings. Looming over everyone with the constant threat that perhaps they'd just tilt over and fall, dooming everyone below. As one went further into Central Dome, the home of the Paradigm Corporation, it got even worse, coming to a head with the immense tower that was the evil company.

She sat with legs dangling over the edge. Gaining access to the apartment, and from there the rooftop, had been simple enough. Wearing fine clothing that surely only Dome-dwellers could afford was half the effort, and from there all that remained was but to act as though you belonged where you were going, moving in a rush, deflecting questions and suspicion with arrogance and dismissal. It was far too easy to fool the people who lived here. The woman's eyes caught on the ugly monstrosity at the center of the Dome and a sneer tried to force itself onto her lips at the image she immediately associated with it, the vile man called Alex Rosewater.

Instead, Vera smiled lightly and began to hum a simple little tune under her breath to pass the time. Paradigm City was going to burn.
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« Reply #6 on: August 25, 2007, 10:35:58 PM »

R. Dorothy could certainly fool anyone. She would have made a fine young woman, had she actually been made of flesh and blood. Even Roger Smith himself had to admit, she was quite lovely to look at. She wasn't necessarily modeled as a woman, though. She was petite, of statue and build. Her body modeled to be youthful or not yet matured as a woman’s would be. Roger knew that she was made to resemble Wayneright’s daughter, who in life was in her late teens. She was young only as far as her demure features were concerned, however her demeanor gave her away. She lacked the sparkle and natural awkwardness of youth. She was poised, rigid, and stern. Had Wayneright really programmed her correctly? Perhaps in his bumbling mind he had missed certain elements that would have made her more human. Or perhaps this was who Dorothy was in life. Most of the androids made as replicates to human beings were programmed with a certain false warmth. While R. Dorothy would at times lapse into behavior that could almost be called “emotional”, she was still decidedly android.

There R. Dorothy sat at the dining room table, her small white hands folded neatly in her lap. She had finished her tasks and was now stationary. It was in those rare moments that she actually did appear to be quite human. As the sunlight filtered in through the sheer curtains, her face illuminated with a warm white glow. Her dark eyes reflected a lighter hue and for one rare moment it seemed as though she was real. She was as lovely a vision as any. Perhaps this was the Dorothy Wayneright she was based on. This warm, placid creature who simply radiated with such an honest, graceful beauty.

Honest. It was difficult to consider one's self honest when you were made to be a lie; an illusion of what was once real. R.Dorothy did not seem to care who she resembled. She was a creature all her own. While most beings would be curious on the matter, she was not. She was curious about the lives surrounding her, but not necessarily that life; not Dorothy Wayneright's life. Andriods were not unquestioning, she did question to be certain. She reasoned that it was unnessecary to bother Roger Smith or anyone with a past that didn't truly belong to her. She knew she was correct in her processing, it would be a waste of time and it would serve no one. So she was the only Dorothy that existed as far as everyone was concerned.

                                                    
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Tifaria
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« Reply #7 on: August 29, 2007, 10:11:37 PM »

After lingering around for a while longer, Angel decided that there was nothing to be learned at the Paradigm building that day.  The crash, whatever it had been, didn't seem to be anything of interest, judging from the way the Paradigm employees continued their work.  And even if it were, Angel decided she'd simply learn about it later.  She had to admit, she was disappointed with how her day was going.  Nothing new learned, and not even so much as a glance of Roger Smith.  With one last look at the strange painting, she sighed, turned on her heel and exited the Paradigm building, into the fake sunlight of the domes.  

Much to her reluctance, it was about time to visit an.. acquaintance.  Her Memory gathering wasn't going very well lately.  To be honest, she wasn't sure if she even cared anymore, but this was the life she had resigned herself to long ago, and she had no choice but to continue on with her mission.  Still.. things weren't going the way she wanted, and while she much preferred to work alone, there was one person who could perhaps be of some use.




Beck settled down with a cigar, a glass of wine, and that day's edition of the paper.  Plastered on the front page was a mugshot of himself, with the headline "Notorious criminal Beck Gold once again loose" and the subheading "Military Police promise Gold will be caught and brought to justice once and for all".  He couldn't help but laugh, and next thing he knew he was clapping his heels together, rocking back and forth in his chair.  It was all too perfect.  They'd never know what he had in mind next.  His creation was safe in a new location, a place where he was certain no one would ever find it.  He hadn't even told his henchmen.    The more he thought about it, the funnier it became, until he could hardly breathe from all his laughing.  

"Well, someone's impressed with himself."

He looked up to see a curvy silhouette in his doorway.  She stepped forward slightly, enough for him to see the blond curls partially obscuring her face.  His laughter stopped as suddenly as it started and was replaced with a scowl.  He sat upright and slammed his feet on the ground.

"The Fallen Angel herself.  I thought you weren't allowed out during the daytime.  Something about you bursting into flames in the sunlight.  I guess artificial light doesn't count?"  

"Why, that's no way to talk to a lady," she said, sauntering towards him.

"You're no lady, though.  What do you want?"  

She snatched his cigar suddenly, ignoring his question.  "Ooh, real tobacco?  Very vintage.  This must have cost a pretty penny."  

Beck snatched it back.  "It's worth it.  Have you tried the synthetic stuff Paradigm makes?  It's crap."  

"For you, maybe."  

"Just because you work for Alex Rosewater and you have your head up his--"

"Ah, ah," Angel wagged a finger at him.  "Language, Jason.  How rude."  She brushed her hair over her shoulder.  "As it happens, I no longer work for Rosewater.  It would seem I was fired some time ago."  A pause.  "You would have known that if you hadn't been in prison."  

"Not surprising.  That tends to happen when you try to steal information from your boss."  He began to tap his foot impatiently.  "What do you want, Angel?  I'm a little busy here."  

"Oh, are you?  How rude of me."  She walked in a slow circle around his chair.  She reminded him of a cat playing with its prey.  Finally she stopped in front of him.  "I know all about your little plan, you know.  I'm just not sure what you hope to accomplish by it."  

He choked on his cigar.  "What?  How did you--" He sputtered, sending cigar ash flying everywhere.  "I--we-- built it in secret!  There's no way you could have known."

"It's my job, dear Jason.  Though I must admit that I've never understood your grudge against Roger Smith."

"He's humiliated me over and over!  Him and that obnoxious android of his."

"You're a criminal!  What do you expect him to do?"  She laughed.  "You were lucky to get the sentence you did last time, by the way.  The Military Police would love nothing more than to be rid of you once and for all."  She took the newspaper from his hands, scanning the headline before tossing it back at him.  "I wouldn't be surprised if it's an execution next time.  It's a good thing no one else knows about your newest plan."  She laughed brightly.  "Oh, except me, of course."  

Beck flicked his cigar ashes in her face.  "What do you want, Angel?"

She stood up, brushing the ashes off with a gloved hand.  "The same thing I always want, of course."

"Memories."  

"Obviously.  And I need you to help me find some in particular."  She began to walk out the door, then looked back over her shoulder for dramatic effect.  "I hate to resort to blackmailing, but I do need your help.  Unless, of course, you'd rather I went to the Military Police with what I know."  

Beck dropped the last of his cigar to the ground and took his time smushing it rather aggressively.  He hated to rise to her bait, but with this woman, there was no telling what she'd do if she didn't get her way.  Beck knew he couldn't trust her, and yet he had no choice but to do what she wanted.  "Lead the way, Angel," he said through gritted teeth.    

She stood back from the door, ushering him out before her.  "After you," she said sweetly.

This can't end well, Beck thought as the door closed behind him.
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as Satan
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« Reply #8 on: August 30, 2007, 06:25:58 PM »

"A world in flames."

In a building outside the domes, was an office, barely lit through venetian blinds. Not much light in Paradigm, not sunlight anyway. Sitting in his chair with a note in his hand was Harold Werrington, your own private eye to hire when the going got shady. Sure, you might hire one of the better negotiators to scrounge about to you, but if you want to find something you call an investigator, like old Harry here. The note could easily pass for machine print at a glance, but it was just really well done handwriting. The message was short, simple, and yet carried a sense of foreboding that let Harold know it wasn't just some moron rambling.

"A world in flames."

He repeated it over and over again, slowly, trying to find anything he could link to this. The arson incidents, rare in this City of Amnesia, stopped months ago, the perp still one of the Military Police's most wanted, and to the day the offers he's received to join the force again to hunt down this sumabitch keep coming.

He slid open a drawer to his left, crumpled up the note, and removed a thick black metal case with a gold eagle on it, a symbol of something long dead to this city. Sticking out its side was a small combination lock embedded into the thing itself, and Harold turned it accordingly. A neat stack of cigarettes were residing in their own cozy little compartment in the lower left hand corner, ready to be consumed in fire for the benefit of Harold at the expense of his lungs.

A long polished black cigarette holder was held in the clutches of two latches that suspended it on the top half of the case, and quickly escaped by Harold's hand, only to find itself pushed into a slot near the stack of cigarettes. A series of small mechanical arms shuffled about and started a process of lifting a cigarette, lighting it, and placing it in the aforementioned holder.

One of the various small arms held it up and offered it to him. He took a drag and exhaled, watching the smoke for some sort of sign.

Flames.



Embers died underneath mechanical foot and force, being crushed into the aged carpet. Not so different from the dirty streets of Paradigm, not like before. Inside this condemned building, it was like looking at the city itself make a joke of the conditions of those outside the dome. A man wrapped up tightly in a trench coat and gas mask tinkered around with a few small cylinders no bigger than a can of soda; tanks for the flamethrower in his hand, to recharge the bigger tank on his back that was obscured by the trenchcoat. Once he was satisfied with their condition, he obscured them within his coat and went to the roof.

He jumped from rooftop to rooftop with ease, crossing several blocks in a matter of minutes, after which the man in the mask stopped. He descended into the building, an antique shop heavily guarded against conventional entrances. The owner was a light sleep, and even the mechanically guided footfall could not help but alert his sharp ears. He watched the man peruse through several old watches, the kind they can't make anymore, before making his move with a hammer in hand.

The man noticed this, and with his unnatural speed made his way back onto the roof. The owner followed, ready to smash this bastard's face in. When he came out, he smelled smoke. The flamethrower was spewing its payload high, causing the ignited mixture it shot to blanket the ground. In panic, the owner tripped and fell down the stairs, escaping the flames but breaking his neck. The flamethrower retracted.

The man in the mask descended toward the body, and searched his body. He fished out a closed gold pocketwatch by its chain. A murmur came from underneath the gasmask, a sort of chuckle. The top, engraved with the word "METRON", came open, showing it had apparently stopped working at 5:00 sharp, as well as a photograph on its other half.

On both of the inner halves, a counterclockwise movement removed the faux covers, revealing a green almond shaped ring being orbited by a white square and red triangle, with a black background. On the bottom side of the cover was a curious display of a digital gauge, manipulated by the knob on the bottom of the watch. A number appeared in the empty center of the green ring, showing the specific frequency it was tuning to.

Every so often, when a certain frequency was reached, a name briefly flashed below the number in red font, with a miscellaneous message below it. The magic number was 65536. Green, O.K., Clearance code desired.

A grunt of frustration came out of the mask. He took out a notepad, and in machine-perfect writing he copied the displays to scale. On the back, he wrote something. He closed the watch, opened the coat, and put it in his pants pocket. He left as he came, leaping on rooftops without much fuss.



Harold opened his eyes, finding himself in his chair, as he was, minus the cigarette. He looked at the case and found a drawing of two circular displays. He flipped it over and saw "Find this code" nicely written. A sigh escaped his mouth, the sigh of a tired man in light of more work to be done.
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« Reply #9 on: August 31, 2007, 12:31:22 AM »

Emilia was not of the opinion that she could actually enjoy herself in a day about town. She had lied, a habit that had become second nature to her in her soon to be twenty second year of life. She was not in reality a good liar by any means, even though that seems to be contridictory. But like most citizens in the this city of amnesia, Emilia suffered from a contridictory nature. She was both outspoken and tactful, aloof and friendly, innocent and ,in some small measure, perverse. In her logic the only true liar was her father, whatever tales she spurned were insignificant in comparision to his.

Emilia had directed the driver to just let her off near Paradigm University, under the pretext that she was to meet with a brilliant former professor of hers. It was the truth. She was going to meet with an former "professor"...but the term was used very generously in this case. With an unquestioning glance James' eyes met with Emilia's. He seemed to be soaking in the brief moments awarded to him, as he sat adjacent to her in the car. He gave her an awkward, crooked little simper. It reminded her suddenly of an old beau she had..."beau" also being used rather generously. In that moment as she met James' smile with her own she recalled that exciting young man. Her heart fluttered and in that instant where she had caught a glimpse of the past. She remembered it was James and the illusion was over; the flutter expired.

"Shall I accompany you? I would love to meet the man who inspired you." James said rather dreamily, trying to impress Emilia.

"That is kind of you, however, he is a very stubborn old gentlemen. He'd rather I did not interrupt his research with many guests. He has got an awful temperment for working alone." Emilia saw the little sparkle die out in James' eyes. She felt rather awful, then. He was a man who'd do anything for her and here she was pining away for an old flame. A shady character who did nothing but trifle with her, but such was temperment of a young heart.

"Oh. So what time shall I have the driver pick you up." James spoke with all meloncholy of a child who hadn't gotten that train he wanted for christmas.

"I'll take a taxi home, I can take care of myself, you know." She spoke with a teasing smile on lips. " Just run along to Paradigm or you'll never get that big important promontion! You will have plenty of time to spend with me later."

James got the feeling he was being humored. He would not have time to spend with her. He allowed her to leave, trusting that she'd navigate herself back to her home safely. Trying to prove that he trusted her, knowing that he'd lose his job for losing sight of her. But such was the temperment of a young heart.

                                                                **************

Emilia glided into the halls of Paradigm University with ease. She came as a returning conquerer. She was a collegate, even in dress. Her short cropped brown hair flopped over her warm chesnut colored eyes, round and garlanded with thin feathery lashes. She managed to greet a few familiar faces but the spring term was long over, leaving very few faculty. She found her way to the library. It was an exquisite, gothic, hall. There were monumental dark pillars made of a rare wood called "mahogany". In them there were beautiful angels carved, almost ascending into the sky. The building was there before amnesia, the referances, inscriptions still obscure to most people. The building itself the subject of many research papers.

"Emilia!" A creaky voice shattered the silence of the library, echoing in the space, sounding much bigger than it actually was. Emilia was taken aback but quickly recognized the voice.

"Mr. Vanguard, how have you been?" Emilia replied to him.

"Trying to keep these books in order. Everyday we have new ones. I suppose people are trying to make up more nonsense about forty years past." He lamented somewhat teasingly. He chuckled, "but they don't know what I know, do they?"

"I guess not. They will spend ages trying to figure it out." Emilia laid a guiding hand on Mr. Vanguard's shoulder. She led him to a seat, taking the small stack of books into her own grasp.

"Is this the...oh yes...shall I start to put them in order?"

"You are a darling, Emilia, truly." The elderly Mr. Vanguard took a deep relaxed breath.

"It's no trouble, Professor." Emilia glanced back as she was storing the books, "I don't believe that this university knows what a true miracle you are."

"Don't you dare say a word, Miss Townshend."

"You very well know that I would not. You are my greatest teacher. I would never betray that confidence." Emilia finishing placing the books on the shelves and took a seat next to her professor.

"I know you would never, but that boy you've been seeing...he's trouble."

Emilia frowned, Mr. Vanguard didn't seem to realize that her association with said individual was terminated.

"I do not have contact with him." She retorted rather crossly, not really directed at Mr. Vanguard but at the whole affair in general.

"Good."

Emilia leaned in eagerly. "Mr. Vanguard, will you ever share what you know. You haven't even told me."

"So you believe me to be a liar."

"Never that," Emilia couldn't help but smile. "I was simply suggesting that if you do have this memory perhaps it would answer many questons."

"It would not do any good to anybody. What do these people care for the memory of an old man. It's not something I want to sell. It's all the inheritance I have left to give."

"I can understand your logic. People these days would kill for any memory. It's sickening, really."

"Well it musn't be as repulsive to you as you suggest," he snickered, "you're mighty curious about mine."

"To be honest, yes, I am."

"Isn't everyone, though?" He said with resignation, tinged with a tad of disapointment. "Is that why you always come visit me?"

"Don't be so dramatic!" Emilia teased, "I've been fond of you before I even knew you had a memory."

"Yes, you are correct. You are the grandchild I never had. You are the nearest one to this old man's heart and you know it."

Emilia wrapped her arms around the elderly gentlemen, embracing him tightly. She teared up, feeling as if this was what having a grandfather must have felt like.

"Emilia, listen to me closely." Mr. Vanguard allowed her to back away a bit before trapping her within his grasp. "If I die, I'm going to give you my memory."

"But..."

"You made me realize...I'm not going to be around much longer. There is someone else who knows of this secret of mine. This person will do anything to attain this knowledge. I need someone to guard my inheritance, and I've choosen you."

"Mr. Vanguard..." Emilia was flabbergasted at his sudden change of heart. The words just didn't formulate quickly enough for her to even begin to try and respond to him.

"In fact, I felt that this person is already here to finish the job."

Emilia's pulse hastened. Who could he have been talking about? When in their discourse had he noticed that some one else had come in unannounced? They both were in a rather secluded area of the library. Who could have entered?

"Mr. Vanguard, there is no one here but us! What are you speaking about?!" Emilia's thoughts flashed through the spaces of her mind like a strobe light. They were simply continuous repetitions of the thoughts before. Such was her panic.

Then suddenly Vanguard's blue eyes glazed over. His vision seemed lost, as if his eyes were following one bee in a swarm. Beadlets of sweat collected on his brow and suddenly his grasp grew tighter, out of control. In that instant of insane panic he told her were he had recorded the memory....everything. He begged her to find it, and if she was lucky she'd get back in time to explain it to her.

Before Emilia could even process what was happening she found herself searching frantically for the record. He had hidden it in a book titled The Secret Garden a title from a memory. She snatched it up in her hands and ran back to Mr. Vanguard. She held something precious in her hands, this lonely old librarian's final & sole legacy. It burned in her grasp.

She found him. Dead. A heartattack. His memory in her hands, undeciphered.  
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Professor Vogler
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« Reply #10 on: September 02, 2007, 08:40:43 PM »

The crash had resonated around the spacious interior of the building before finally diminishing into a barely audible hum...

"COLONEL DASTUN!" a surpised but angry voice called out.

Every ounce of instinct in the old soldier overpowered his rational senses of etiquette... the chair he sat in flew back into the door, and then slid into a pedistal holding a rather fancy ceramic vase.

Following a few moments seething rage, Dastun snapped back to reality and realized what he had just done before the committee and Rosewater. He looked nervously over at the shattered pottery, which must have been a relic from before 40 Years Ago, and was about to beg forgiveness when Rosewater spoke...


"Oh it's quite alright. It can be quite a--  touchy subject."

"With all due respect, if you're asking my opinion on if the military police needs to have...... I believe we already have more than enough to handle the current threats to Paradigm City."

"Is that so," Rosewater sighed mockingly; it was apparent to everyone that a decision had already been made. "Tell you what, I'll let you think about it for a while. If you change your mind... you know what to do."

Dastun didn't know why Rosewater of all people would need his consent on such an audacious project...or why he wouldn't be reprimanded for destroying an actual Memory.... but what he did know was that life in the City of Amnesia was about to change. He saluted the group and then left, leaving the opened folder on the table. The three chairpeople of the committee exchanged glances at each other.


Colonel Dastun walked down the hallway to the cable-transport platform, and waited angrily for the next train to come.


"I have to tell Roger," he muttered.

An 'up' car passed on the outside track-- a glint of light...  Dastun glanced upward towards the rim of the main hall, high above the floor.... a man in black watching him.... on the other side, a second man....

"Damn it."
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« Reply #11 on: September 03, 2007, 01:17:10 PM »

R. Dorothy Waynewright

   R. Dorothy on rare occasion was dispatched to the store to pick up a few utilities that ran short in the Smith household. She kept well organized list in her mind; was instructed to pick these items up and return straight away. These were the instructions she was supposed to follow. Dorothy would get around to it, in an eventual fashion. However those who commanded her might have known better than to think that R. Dorothy was such a simplistic being. It was that heightened sense of "being" that provoked her to more stimulating pursuits along the way.

Before reaching the store she squandered a great deal of time observing a group of motley street musicians. She watched one quite intently, a young man. His face obscured by long, oily, brunette tresses. He shot a playful side glance over at the petite andriod. An odd sensation seemed to wash over him, as his flirtacious grin was not reciprocated. The teal of his eyes seemed to dull to a grey as he realized he had no effect over that lovely, yet queer creature. R. Dorothy observed that as the first song came to an end the small group of humans surrounding the musicans clapped politely. She brought her hands together and did so; although merely out of "politeness" for R.Dorothy had a critical ear. Their playing was definately not to par with other renditions she had heard. However she took into account what Roger had told her about playing with "heart". Dorothy then marched onwards, remaining as a puzzle to the perplexed young performer.
                                                          ***********
Paradigm was a city where it was not uncommon to see an android, but if you did happen to see one you'd recognize it as such. The unique quality about Dorothy was that at first glance you could not imagine that inside of her shell she wasn't made of anything but circuitry and parts. However she reasoned that most humans were made of the same components, although different in composition. She was an organism as well as they were. Aside from her physical attributes she did have a working conscienciousness. What she knew for certain was that it was a mystery even to herself as to how she operated. Even more perplexing was that she experiance strange sensations, although they were not physical.

On her little voyage to the store she experanced many diverse sensations. Her circuitry sparked with new thoughts and processes. She let her mind wonder, she thought of Roger. He occupied the majority of her new thoughts. He seemed to have a strange way of just enveloping her ideas about humans. Whenever she met someone new that wasn't her father, Norman, or Roger she'd draw a comparision. Roger who was generally interested in having her exihibit more "humanlike" behavior seemed to encourage her to initate in polite conversations. It seemed to Dorothy that he found her more tolerable, when she was trying to adapt. Thus when she was on her own, he was always present, almost as if her own memories of Roger were coaching her. She remembered this whenever she ran into the shopkeeper.

"Hello, how are you?" She spoke in a manner that lacked any affectation, however the gesture was appreciated just the same, usually. Dorothy finished her chores, about an hour late, and proceeded back to the mansion. If andriods could experiance hope, then she was hoping that Roger would, by then, be home. Why she wished this was illogical, but not entirely beyond her reasoning. Just as when Roger was with that woman named Angel, what she felt in those instances was illogical as well but she was beginning to understand what the human concept of "jealousy" was.
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The Big Finale
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« Reply #12 on: September 06, 2007, 06:52:37 AM »

The door to the grandfather clock latched into place, sealing the swinging pendulum inside. There was a handkerchief in Norman's pocket. He nimbly removed it with thumb and index, and ran the soft cloth across his dusty hands. Until Roger deigned to rise from his tomb and take to the world of the living, the cleaning of this antique, pre-Event timepiece was the last outstanding duty he had. Norman looked at the piano. Dorothy was gone for the moment, off purchasing supplies that the mansion required, and Roger's awakening by way of pounding music was delayed.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

He faced forward again, returning the handkerchief to his pocket. His reflection in the mirror-like glass covering caught his eye, and he observed it. Though there was no questioning of the assertion, no one had forgotten everything. For example, Norman's black patch. From the very start, he'd been aware of it. His vision had been thinner than he thought it should be, and unbidden, "I'm missing an eye" had popped into his head, and he knew it was true. And of course he'd known how to speak, and how to use a telephone, and, when he discovered the giant figure standing silently in the hangar, that it was waiting for it's true master and it was his station in life to safeguard and maintain the machine, the megadeus, the Big O, until that master came.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Norman stood from his kneeling position. Master Roger would be rising soon with or without piano, and breakfast had to be waiting.
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« Reply #13 on: September 06, 2007, 12:49:45 PM »

(OOC: Continuation of flashback. For the record, if you aren't listening to Sure Promise right now, you should be. Grin)

Kaisera couldn't stop grinning. He had come. He had finally come. Their decades of dilligence were about to pay off. She leapt from the top of the gantry and landed with expert grace on the main catwalk below. Running to the control panel, she began to retract all the service equipment, clearing the way for the Megadeus to deploy. It was a procedure they hadn't done in years--and the last time was only to ensure that nothing had broken in the launch mechanism. This time was for real.

Inside Big Avenger, Jim went through the start-up procedure on automatic...long-dormant memories surfacing from the depths of his mind and guiding his hands to the proper controls. A metal ring lowered from behind him and twin control sticks slid out into the perfect position for him to take hold of them. He felt a shudder as the maintenance gantry began to move forward, ancient gears rolling it along the dust-covered path.

A ray of sunlight stabbed down into the hangar as the blast door high above began to iris open. Jim regained control of his senses long enough to wonder how the Big was going to get up there, but his hand moved of its own accord and flipped two switches on a panel which his memories labeled [Ignition]. Outside, he saw Big Avenger's arms raise to point his hands upward... except his hands were retracting, fingers telescoping inward to be covered by a protective cone.

Then he heard--no, felt--a rumble that had nothing to do with the service gantry. On a smaller monitor he noticed Kaisera jumping up and down and, presumably, cheering... because the two massive jet engines inside Big Avenger's arms had been the most difficult system to service, and they were thundering to life before her eyes for the first time in forty years. Twin collumns of flame erupted from the Megadeus' elbows, and the roar increased steadily in fervor. Just as he was starting to get worried that something was going to explode, Jim noticed that it was getting lighter--he could see the wall of the launch shaft moving downward in front of him.

The silver-and-blue Megadeus rose, like a fallen phoenix reborn from its ashes, out of the opening of the launch shaft. His armor gleamed in the mid-day sunlight, shining like it never had in the dim lights of the hangar. Though he could not explain it, Jim felt a profound sense of freedom--and then pure euphoria boiled up out of the depths of Big Avenger, at the simple fact that he was airborne again.

Nothing that can fly ever enjoys being underground for forty years.

The Megadeus gently prodded the mind of his Dominus, silently directing his attention to the engine controls. They were barely at one-half power. Jim, not for the first time in his life, felt the need for open sky. He grabbed the throttle control, took a deep breath, and pulled it all the way back. The Megadeus went from rising with stately grace to hurtling up into the sky like a rocket. As he cleared the canyon, slots on his arms opened, and two great silver wings telescoped out, extending and inter-locking, spanning a width more than twice Big Avenger's height. Four stubby maneuvering wings similarly deployed from his lower legs, and Big Avenger guided his Dominus into a barrel roll for the sheer joy of it.

Kaisera stood outside now, telescopic eyes tracking the silver Megadeus up into the sky. As he passed out of sight over the lip of the canyon, she frowned. The ground was still rumbling.

------


The memories surging through the silver Megadeus had awoken it. It remembered its ancient adversaries, who would rain death on its ken from the skies. It would face this one again, and it would bring it down or be destroyed in the attempt. It did not, could not know any other fate.

But first, it would need a servant to unlock its greater capabilities. It extended its senses, and found two within a reasonable distance.

They would suffice.

------


Flying, it would seem, came naturally to Jim. He had finally regained full control of his mind and body, but still knew how every control in the Megadeus' cockpit worked. That switch deployed the beam cannons, those buttons over there controlled the shields...and the control sticks and the pedals beneath his feet guided the Megadeus through the sky.

He banked around, covering more distance in a few seconds than he had in an entire day of his cross-desert trek. He was so high up he could even see the domes glinting in the distance. Jim glanced up at the clouds, tempted to find out what was above them--but Big Avenger had other ideas.

The controls locked, and for a moment Jim panicked...until the central monitor brought up a radar display. He could reckognize the canyon and hangar, and the spot where the cabin was...and something heading towards them, in the glaring scarlet of a hostile contact.

"Well...I needed to test out the weapons anyway. Looks like it's SHOWTIME!" He tilted the now-unlocked controls down, diving back towards the hangar.

------


Kaisera realized something was truly wrong when rocks began to fall from the canyon walls around her. She turned away from the hangar and ran--and boy, can androids run when they want to--back towards the cabin. She did not get far when something huge burst from the canyon wall.

It was immense, bigger than even Big Avenger. She glimpsed a giant 23 on its side. It screamed, a strange warbling cry that triggered something deep within her mind: fear...and something else. Her mouth opened and began spewing code until she slapped her hands over it, and the mechanical monster turned its massive, draconic head toward her. It began to crawl, gleaming yellow claws turning the floor of the canyon into sand at its touch. She turned and began to run, but the sand caught up and she fell into the deepening crater with a scream.

Terrified, she turned to see its face looming above her...and then it reared back as bright bolts of energy slammed into its body from above. A volley of missiles streaked down and impacted around its arms, sending it toppling onto its back. Big Avenger roared past overhead, banking around for another pass.

------


A new icon appeared on the monitor. It was only a default reading for Android, but Jim knew that only one android could be that close to the hangar right now. "You LEAVE HER ALONE!" he yelled as four beam cannon turrets extended from Big Avenger's chest and back, and fired as one. The focused energy blew off the Leviathan's (he wondered how he knew what it was called) front left leg, and it screamed again.

Finding its footing, the purple centerpiece in its right front leg glowed and shot out a blinding beam of light. It missed Big Avenger by a good distance, but it reminded Jim that he wasn't the only one with weapons. As he began evasive maneuvers, he tried to figure out if he could display any information about his enemy on the monitors. Schematics of several bizzare machines blinked past before it settled on the Leviathan-class Megadeus.

"Lesse here... automated... burrows... turns stuff to sand--mental note, keep your distance--lasers in hands and feet...ah! This is where it gets interesting."

Big Avenger knew his Dominus was busy researching their enemy, and while he agreed that it was a good idea in principle, he had some concerns about doing it while that enemy was shooting at them. So he took the liberty of subtly exaggerating Jim's evasive maneuvers enough to keep them alive, and considered prodding his Dominus' mind in the general direction of the shield generators and how to turn them on.

"Equipped with substantial armament, which can only be unlocked by interface with specific types of androids for security purposes... units are largely feral, but when all capabilities are unlocked become extremely dangerous..." Jim swallowed loudly. "Not normally a phrase you want to see. So, I need to keep it from getting Kais--uh-oh."

The Leviathan had finally figured out that it wasn't having very good luck with the claw laser, and had deployed a number of large missile racks from its back. The monitor strobed and an alarm dragged Jim's attention away from the datafile.

"Time to get low and fast... damnit, I wish I knew what that meant!"

Jim's memories did, though, and guided his hands to send Big Avenger into a steep dive and pull up just above the desert sands.

"Oh."

The maneuver threw the missiles off for a moment, but they arced down after the silver Megadeus and the alarm began getting more insistent as they closed. Jim was frantically wondering what to do next when Big Avenger discretely poked his mind towards the beam cannons. This Dominus was proving suprisingly easy to influence...possibly too young. Perhaps he needed another few years to ripen... no, wait, wait, that was for plants... mature! That was the word!

Big Avenger was not built with the capability for deep thought in mind.

At any rate, Jim got the hint and fired on the missiles with the beam cannons. He managed to blast several out of the sky, and the detonations threw a few others off-course. Some of them lost their lock and slammed into the desert, but a handful homed in on him no matter what.

They detonated around Big Avenger's feet, and a schematic displayed a "Damage Level 2" to the lower legs. Jim figured it wasn't too serious, and began coming around to face his enemy again.

------


Kaisera had began running again as soon as Big Avenger attacked--remaining in the vicinity of a Megadeus battle was not conducive to one's health--but with the missiles keeping him busy, the dragon was free to search for its prey.

She had found a small cave, though what good it would do against a monster that turned stone into sand she wasn't sure... but she could feet its footsteps heading away. She sighed in relief--then gasped as she realized where it was headed.

"The cabin! Greystar! Father!"

------


(OOC: cue Stoning)

Jim realized what had happened when the monitor thrummed a new warning: the Leviathan had found an android.

Greystar was paralyzed by the sheer force of memory flowing from the monstrous machine into him and then back again. He did it unknowingly and unwillingly, but he still did it. The draconic Megadeus screamed again with triumph, and dropped the hapless android back into the ruins of the cabin as it turned to face its foe.

Another beam of energy lanced from the claw-crystal, joined now by fire from a dozen cannons deploying from hidden compartments around its shoulders. Big Avenger dodged and weaved a corkscrew path across the sky, keeping ahead of it easily, but he could not attack and evade at the same time.

Wondering if he could get out of this, Jim scanned the controls and his new-found memories for something that could help them. His gaze rested on one panel that his mind called [Shield Controls]. He pressed a few buttons on it, experimentally.

A pair of shimmering, disc-shaped barriers appeared above and below Megadeus, flickering before fading almost to invisibility. The bottom one flared again when one of the claw-beam blasts struck it, but the weapon did not penetrate--it was stopped cold.

Jim grinned and swung around, guns blazing. The Leviathan practically ignored the light weapons fire--something heavier was needed. Big Avenger tried to plant the word "Chromestriker" in Jim's subconscious while the Dominus was busy evading fire from the extra beam cannons that had just deployed.

"Man, how many weapons does this thing HAVE?!"

Two additional sets of missile racks extended and fired a massive salvo.

"...forget I asked!"

The Beam Cannons cut through the salvo, weakening it to the point that the shields could deflect it, but they were running out of time. The Leviathan was rapidly discovering what it was really capable of; it was only a matter of time until it got to the rather disturbingly large energy cannon mounted in the head. Big Avenger remembered those, and he'd prefer to end the fight before it could be deployed.

Jim finally noticed the button that was labeled [CHROMESTRIKER] in very large bold letters in his memories. He swung around in a sharp turn and pressed it.

Big Avenger's helmet began to gleam and a faint beam stabbed out to strike the Leviathan squarely on the chest. It didn't seem to do anything and Jim started to feel cheated, but a moment later it surged with immense power and blew a hole clean through the other Megadeus. He tilted the controls downward slightly and the powerful beam sliced the Leviathan in two, carving right down the middle. The thing staggered, stood there bewildered for a moment, and then its head exploded. It fell backwards, slamming into the canyon wall and sliding down to slump and lie smoking, internal compenents occasionally exploding with muffled *thooms.*

------


Kaisera ripped aside part of the rubble, fighting artificial tears as she dug.

The silver Big settled to the ground not far away, and Jim could clearly see that the cabin had been smashed by the creature in its search for an android. He leapt over the controls to Big Avenger's waiting hand, which lowered him gently to the ground.

By the time he ran up to the ruins, Kaisera had unearthed Greystar--battered, damaged, and in shock, but otherwise functional--and her father.

He was bleeding from a massive cut on his head, one arm and both legs were clearly broken, and there was a large red stain spreading across his stomach. Kaisera wept as she held him in her arms.

"Don't... cry..." the old man murmured, barely conscious over the pain. "It was... my time anyway..." She lowered him gently to the ground, tears shining brightly on her cheeks. He turned his head to Jim, and beckonied him close with his good arm.

"You have to promise me, son... promise..." he coughed, blood spattering on his chest. "Promise me... that some day... you will remember."

Jim knelt, and took the old man's hand in his own. "You have my word," he answered in a tone more serious than ever before in his life.

The old man nodded, and smiled weakly... before his eyes shuddered closed and his head fell back. Jim felt the arm in his hands go limp, and Kaisera screamed with grief.

------


They buried him on the top of the canyon, on a bluff where he always liked to watch the sunset before coming down to cook dinner. Greystar had an arm around his sister, comforting her as best he could with his silent presence. Jim stood beside them, swearing a vow to himself that no matter what happened, he would fulfill the man's dying request.

Behind them, Big Avenger silently bowed his head...

...in respect for the passing of his former Dominus.

------


Much time had passed since then. Jim, Kaisera and Greystar had moved into living quarters they'd found attached to Big Avenger's underground hangar, and had busied themselves preparing the facility for regular use. Jim had taken the Megadeus out for another few test-flights over the wastelands, making a point to stay clear of Paradigm City for the time being.

Jim knew, despite the fact that he'd never considered such a situation before, that he didn't want to be like the Red Megadeus, or like any of the other monstrosities that had attacked the city before. He also didn't think Big Avenger would stand for it, and as close as the two had become in the weeks since they had met--despite the Megadeus never speaking a word--he didn't harbor any illusions about how the giant machine would respond if he attempted to mis-use its power.

The one thing that kept worrying him was the Black Megadeus. He didn't know how it would react to him and Big Avenger muscling in on its "turf," and given that it and whoever piloted it had won every battle he'd heard of and defeated many foes--including the Red Megadeus--he didn't want to get on their bad side. So for now, he stayed low.

That didn't stop him from keeping up with what was going on in Paradigm City. During their refurbishment of the Hangar, Kaisera and Greystar had come across a transport system: an underground railcar which, when activated, ferried its passengers to an abandoned station just outside of West Dome #5. Jim had utilized it to make discreet trips into the city and get in touch with some of the people he'd known off the streets. He had heard from them the tales of what had happened since he'd left--the Black Megadeus winning more fights, even smashing an angel falling from the heavens. Much of it was rumors and gossip, the facts clearly distorted after being passed around by word-of-mouth. He needed a reliable source.

A few inquiries had pointed him to a bar called the Speakeasy and a man named Big Ear, but one meeting alone made it clear that he was far above Jim's league--both in status and in price. Some other whispered suggestions had pointed him to a group spoken of in hurried, hushed tones: an organization called the Union. A discreet closer investigation hinted that they weren't the nicest people to deal with so he decided to stay clear of them, which left him very few options.  There was one person, however...

Which is how he came to find himself in the main lobby of the Paradigm Building, feeling extremely out-of-place. He had returned to his apartment (the landlord was forunately very relaxed about his month-overdue rent) and retrieved his best clothes, but it still didn't compare to the fine buisness suits around him. He could feel people's eyes on him, automatically classifying him as being from Outside the Domes, but he steeled his nerves and headed for the main reception desk.

The woman seated there in the smart grey uniform noticed him approaching, and the friendly smile she had worn while dealing with the well-dressed executives faded from her face. By the time Jim reached the counter, she was eyeing him with a mixture of suspicion, curiousity and distaste. He hesitated, but then swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Can you deliver a message for me?" he asked, pulling an envelope out of his jacket. "To a Miss Laura Atherin? I don't have a number or address for her, but I do know she works in the Records Department on Floor 247." He handed her the envelope, which she eyed with about the same mix of expressions she had applied to him. Then realization flashed across her face.

"Oh, so you're Jim?" she said, now looking at him with a sardonic, sinister and distinctly female smirk. "Okay, yeah, I can send it up." She turned and leaned towards the woman at the next desk over. "Hey Nancy, guess who this is?"

Jim slowly backed away from the desk as the receptionists began to twitter and shoot amused looks at him, and he began to comprehend the awful power of the Paradigm HQ rumor mill.
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If at first you don't succeed, get a bigger starship and try again.
Tifaria
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« Reply #14 on: September 09, 2007, 12:25:23 PM »

They didn't speak during the drive.  Beck blew puffs of smoke out the passenger window while Angel steered a sleek, anonymous black car towards their destination.  Beck was just grateful it wasn't that hideous pink vehicle he'd seen her in previously.  He knew females usually had a fondness for bright, pastel colors, but the ridiculous amount of pink present in Angel's life was overdoing it a bit.  At least Beck's preferred shade of gold was flashy without being nauseating.  

"Ah, here we are.  I'm sure you have fond memories of this place."  Angel parked and they exited the car.

Beck stared up at the building's facade, hands in his pockets.  "If by fond you mean bad, then yes."  

"It can't have been that bad, getting a.. partial.. education, now can it?"  Angel began climbing the steps to the door of Paradigm University's library.  

"I didn't say I was here for schooling."  

"You don't have to.  I know more about your past than most people probably do.  Funny, you say you detest Roger Smith for his privileged upbringing and his opportunity for an education, but it seems to me you had the exact same thing handed to you as well."  She smirked.  "It's not Roger's fault you couldn't keep your life together."

"Don't make assumptions about me.  You don't know a thing about why I detest Roger Smith, or what happened to my life."

"Perhaps not.  It doesn't really matter right now anyway."  She opened the door.  "I'm sure you know who we're going to see.  He simply wouldn't cooperate with me, and our time is running out.. or maybe it's already too late."

"So what, you want me to intimidate him?  Real ladylike, Angel."  

"Not intimidate.  Persuade."  They walked down a silent hallway, shoes clicking on the marble floor, before reaching the main room of the library.  "The old man was fond of you once, I hear."  

"Once.  That was before things changed."  Beck dropped his cigarette to the floor, grinding the ashes into the polished marble.  "You don't know a thing about me after all."  

"Oh, but I do.  It's not the old man I want you to talk to.  You see, I learned that this girl still thinks rather fondly of you, even though you're a lowlife piece of scum who nearly ruined her life."  

Angel opened the door with a flourish, revealing Emilia Townshend kneeling over the corpse of the old librarian, a book held tightly in her grasp.  Beck felt himself go cold at the sight of her and felt a horrible combination of anger and... remorse.  He prided himself on being callous and unfeeling most of the time, but right now he simply couldn't manage it, and he hated himself for it.  More than anything, he longed to turn around and simply march out without looking back, but instead Jason found himself raising a hand towards Emilia, and suddenly he was speaking to her.

"You changed your hair," he said quietly.
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