Paladin was looking through binoculars when Proust walked up behind him. They were both standing on a rooftop overlooking Grendel's Gulch in Eastgate. Proust's armored gauntlet snapped and hissed into place over his massive arms. Relaxing his arms, Paladin looked up to Proust whose gaze was fixed to the gaping hole in the earth.
"Ready Colonel?"
Proust simply nodded. Then pointed into the chasm. "There?"
Paladin nodded. Then he noticed Proust was not looking at him. "Yes. There is a cave entrance to the eastern part of the ridgeline ... about eight-hundred meters from here and fifty meters down. See the half-buried red car?"
"Yes."
"Ever fought the Trolls."
Proust nodded and huffed, "Hard."
"They are?"
Shaking his head, Proust replied, "No."
Paladin crouched and peered out into the crater. "This is one of many tasks I need your assistance with. Inside the cave is a captive of the Trolls gang. She has information I need. She also has information you need. Based on what she tells me will determine what I can give you about your past and purpose."
With a snort, "Purpose."
Paladin sharply looked up at Proust. "Do you know why you exist Colonel? Do I need to remind you of that?"
Proust slowly turned to the man. "Vengeance."
"Try again."
"No."
Paladin grinned and slapped Proust's calf muscle. "Right, just teasing you. Is there anything more you need from me?"
"No."
"Ok then. Rescue Jade Falcon and bring her to me here, I'll be waiting. I'll even cover your escape." At those words, Paladin dragged a bag closer and unzipped it, pulling out a disassembled sniper rifle. Mutely he started locking pieces into place.
Proust took a step back and squatted as if a spring were being coiled. "No need." With a slight grunt he leaped into the air toward the cave entrance.
Paladin just grinned, rested the rifle's legs on the rooftop ledge, and peered into the scope.
Friday, July 6, 2012
(All) To be found?
(Originally posted by Phaize)
Though he'd never expected it, Proust was beginning to grow on Jason Caine. For starters, he was perhaps the one man (or woman) he could trust to use a coaster on his table even when Jason was out of the room. But Proust... he seemed to treat people the same even behind their backs. It was admirable.
He watched the big man as he stood nearby, examining the bulletin board. After a short while, Proust noticed Phaize watching him. As he was greeted, Jason caught a subtle shift in his colleague's expression.
"Thinking deep thoughts, fella?" Phaize asked in a tone he hoped sounded nonchalant.
Proust paused, and Jason could only assume that he was thinking the question over, truly weighing his answer. "Yes."
"Want to talk about it? Sometimes our demons don't seem so bad when we cast some light on 'em."
Another pause, "No."
"Alright, guy. I didn't mean to pry... but hey, no harm, no foul, right?" He shifted a bit as Proust continued to stare at him. "Umm... well... if you change your mind, you know where to find me. And if you need a hand with... whatever... just call. Later, Proust."
With the, Jason turned and walked down the Sanctuary hall, perplexed. Something was clearly bothering Proust, but how could a man so straightforward and honest have have such troubling demons?
Though he'd never expected it, Proust was beginning to grow on Jason Caine. For starters, he was perhaps the one man (or woman) he could trust to use a coaster on his table even when Jason was out of the room. But Proust... he seemed to treat people the same even behind their backs. It was admirable.
He watched the big man as he stood nearby, examining the bulletin board. After a short while, Proust noticed Phaize watching him. As he was greeted, Jason caught a subtle shift in his colleague's expression.
"Thinking deep thoughts, fella?" Phaize asked in a tone he hoped sounded nonchalant.
Proust paused, and Jason could only assume that he was thinking the question over, truly weighing his answer. "Yes."
"Want to talk about it? Sometimes our demons don't seem so bad when we cast some light on 'em."
Another pause, "No."
"Alright, guy. I didn't mean to pry... but hey, no harm, no foul, right?" He shifted a bit as Proust continued to stare at him. "Umm... well... if you change your mind, you know where to find me. And if you need a hand with... whatever... just call. Later, Proust."
With the, Jason turned and walked down the Sanctuary hall, perplexed. Something was clearly bothering Proust, but how could a man so straightforward and honest have have such troubling demons?
(All) To be found?
There is ... a man in a mask looking down.
He cannot move his head.
There is ... a man pointing at another man. They are arguing.
He cannot move his legs.
There is ... a man in a uniform looking up and down.
He cannot move his arms.
There is ... a man with a clip board.
He cannot move his hands.
There is ... a woman with a smirk on her face.
He can move his head.
There is ... a man pointing at him, then the woman.
He can move his legs.
There is ... a man in a uniform frowning at him.
He can move his arms.
There is ... a man yelling at him. Pleading.
He can move his hands.
Splatters of red.
Tatters of white.
Flashes of fire.
Stench of smoke.
run, Run, RUN.
Find the rest.
Gather the Korps.
Arthur. Colonel Arthur.
Wanderer. Lost.
Alien: Rikti.
Defend. Destroy. Annihilate. Obliterate.
fire. Fire. FIRE.
----
Proust wakes with a start. The sheets are drenched in his sweat. The dreams have returned. He slams a fist against the wall beside him and the bang echoes slightly in his apartment. The wall is unscathed and ignored as he puts his face in his hands. There are no tears.
He stands and begins to stretch. After thirty minutes he walks to the table near the kitchen and begins to assemble the sniper cannon.
Again.
Before the barrel is locked into place, thus completing the puzzle, he disassembles the weapon and rearranges the pieces on the table and walks to the window of his apartment. Staring onto the city-scape he wonders if he can escape the dreams. Or learn more about them.
He cannot move his head.
There is ... a man pointing at another man. They are arguing.
He cannot move his legs.
There is ... a man in a uniform looking up and down.
He cannot move his arms.
There is ... a man with a clip board.
He cannot move his hands.
There is ... a woman with a smirk on her face.
He can move his head.
There is ... a man pointing at him, then the woman.
He can move his legs.
There is ... a man in a uniform frowning at him.
He can move his arms.
There is ... a man yelling at him. Pleading.
He can move his hands.
Splatters of red.
Tatters of white.
Flashes of fire.
Stench of smoke.
run, Run, RUN.
Find the rest.
Gather the Korps.
Arthur. Colonel Arthur.
Wanderer. Lost.
Alien: Rikti.
Defend. Destroy. Annihilate. Obliterate.
fire. Fire. FIRE.
----
Proust wakes with a start. The sheets are drenched in his sweat. The dreams have returned. He slams a fist against the wall beside him and the bang echoes slightly in his apartment. The wall is unscathed and ignored as he puts his face in his hands. There are no tears.
He stands and begins to stretch. After thirty minutes he walks to the table near the kitchen and begins to assemble the sniper cannon.
Again.
Before the barrel is locked into place, thus completing the puzzle, he disassembles the weapon and rearranges the pieces on the table and walks to the window of his apartment. Staring onto the city-scape he wonders if he can escape the dreams. Or learn more about them.
(All) To be found?
The dark room was illuminated by the computer screen and a burning end of a cigarette as air was sucked through it. The amber glow moved from the man's face who was smiling at what he was reading. The room itself was sparse except for the man's toolbox and rubble scattered throughout.
The smile seemed to glow with diabolical joy.
A cell phone beeped quietly and the man flipped open the lid to answer.
"Yes. Most of it is still here. The disc was almost unsalvagable."
A pause.
"All I could get was phase two through four of the Project."
A pause.
"I made contact with him. Your contacts know the right people. They found him."
A pause.
"There shouldn't be any problems. If this group can find GREL-88, they can find the rest."
A pause. A nod.
"Better them than anyone else I suppose."
A pause. A shake.
"I don't know them. Never heard of them. No one I can pay enough knows them. Now that Eighty-eight is technically 10-64, keeping tabs on him will be beyond my ... standard pay rate ... tosurveil. Eighty-eight is learned to gather the Korps together and now he has friends to do that."
A pause. A nod.
"Yes, Colonel. We'll see what Eighty-eight can do."
The line closed as did the phone. Paladin went back to his task with another drag off the cigarette.
The smile seemed to glow with diabolical joy.
A cell phone beeped quietly and the man flipped open the lid to answer.
"Yes. Most of it is still here. The disc was almost unsalvagable."
A pause.
"All I could get was phase two through four of the Project."
A pause.
"I made contact with him. Your contacts know the right people. They found him."
A pause.
"There shouldn't be any problems. If this group can find GREL-88, they can find the rest."
A pause. A nod.
"Better them than anyone else I suppose."
A pause. A shake.
"I don't know them. Never heard of them. No one I can pay enough knows them. Now that Eighty-eight is technically 10-64, keeping tabs on him will be beyond my ... standard pay rate ... tosurveil. Eighty-eight is learned to gather the Korps together and now he has friends to do that."
A pause. A nod.
"Yes, Colonel. We'll see what Eighty-eight can do."
The line closed as did the phone. Paladin went back to his task with another drag off the cigarette.
(All) To be found?
Clenched fists came down and impacted upon the gold helmet of the Nemesis soldier. It could not resist the force of the blow and the bright sphere of light surrounding those fists exploded, releasing energy in all directions. The follow-through dragged the soldiers head and body toward the pavement, unconscious. The victor took a step back and surveyed the scene: five badly beatenand broken boned Nemesis soldiers. Then he inspected himself: three bullet wounds and six knife cuts. All were rapidly healing. His breathing already calm, he turned to look for more of the red coats.
Facing him several feet away was a man, barrel chest, long dirty blond hair and matching mustache. From crossed arms he thinly smiled and gave a golf clap. “Nice work.”
The victor nodded and walked up to the grey-suited man who, in turn, looked up to seven feet of hulking muscle. “Arthur?”
The man shook his head. “No, but I know who you are. I know you are looking for others like you. I know there are others like you. I can help you, if you will help me.”
The large warrior seemed to bristle at the last sentence. “Use?”
Another shake of the head. “No, mutual assistance.”
The taller one crossed his arms and furrowed his brow in thought. After a few seconds he lowered his arms and nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.” He reached out and offered his hand. “Very good, I am Paladin.”
The towering figure pointed to his chest and said, “Proust”. Then he returned the hand shake by grabbing the man's forearm, almost enveloping the entire arm from elbow to wrist in his hand.
“I know … Colonel. I've contacted a few friends of mine who will contact some of their friends and so on. Expect to be found again. I'll be watching out for more of your kind. Trust me, you will fulfill your purpose. Do you remember what that is … vindicator?”
Proust immediately saluted. “To raise my right arm against the wicked. To raise my left arm to shelter the weak. For Arthur! For Earth!” Proust remained saluting, almost straining.
The man smirked and whispered. “The protocols are still in place. Good. Very good.”
Facing him several feet away was a man, barrel chest, long dirty blond hair and matching mustache. From crossed arms he thinly smiled and gave a golf clap. “Nice work.”
The victor nodded and walked up to the grey-suited man who, in turn, looked up to seven feet of hulking muscle. “Arthur?”
The man shook his head. “No, but I know who you are. I know you are looking for others like you. I know there are others like you. I can help you, if you will help me.”
The large warrior seemed to bristle at the last sentence. “Use?”
Another shake of the head. “No, mutual assistance.”
The taller one crossed his arms and furrowed his brow in thought. After a few seconds he lowered his arms and nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.” He reached out and offered his hand. “Very good, I am Paladin.”
The towering figure pointed to his chest and said, “Proust”. Then he returned the hand shake by grabbing the man's forearm, almost enveloping the entire arm from elbow to wrist in his hand.
“I know … Colonel. I've contacted a few friends of mine who will contact some of their friends and so on. Expect to be found again. I'll be watching out for more of your kind. Trust me, you will fulfill your purpose. Do you remember what that is … vindicator?”
Proust immediately saluted. “To raise my right arm against the wicked. To raise my left arm to shelter the weak. For Arthur! For Earth!” Proust remained saluting, almost straining.
The man smirked and whispered. “The protocols are still in place. Good. Very good.”
The Run
Looking around a corner to make sure no one was looking, Proust nodded in satisfaction that he was, in fact, alone. He checked his new comm to the Codex and Sanctuary. It beeped once in recognition to his genetic signature. From this he looked at the pile of armor at his feet. Once he "found" the pieces needed (that would fit him) from the Codex armory, Proust decided to give them a run for the money ... wherever that money came from didn't matter to him. The armor was here and it was his.
He looked around the corner and spied a group of Council soldiers setting up a streetside rally. Only a few of them at that corner, but that's all they needed anyway. Proust shook his head and popped a knuckle before grabbing a burgundy and gold colored gauntlet.
Proust started mumbling the litany of combat he was trained to use inmoments like these. He felt proud as his right arm snuggled perfectly into the second gauntlet. It sensed his fingers at the tips and shock padding inflated to securely "hug" his arm. He stomped once, as was his practice, like a bull ready to charge. Proust's black body-suit sported the cross of the Codex and flexed comfortably to his moves. He stretched slightly and calmly exhaled. Activating the rune on the comm, he said, "Training". This alerted everyone on the Codex frequency that Proust was active. Then he turned a corner and calmly walked into street.
Pedestrians of Paragon City have learned when a meta-fight was about to happen and stopped in their tracks. Proust was aware they were also looking at an 8-foot tall purple-skinned person. The Council group noticed him as well and pulled out their rifles. The people wanting to watch the brawl started to cower or scatter. Only the brave kept looking.
"Know you cannot defeat the Council, welp. We have a right to assembly!"
Cars stopped for Proust as he strode across the lanes. He shook his head at the words but did not stop. Traffic resumed behind him and cleared quickly.
"You will not stand," Proust growled and pointed toward the statue in the center of Steel Canyon. One soldier lowered his rifle to follow Proust's finger.
First.
"Cheddar this fool!" The Council soldiers raised rifles to shoulders and released projectile and laser pain. Proust jumped before the triggers and was airborn as the ammunition exhaled. He landed near the curious soldier and brought down both armored fists. A crack of thunder and blast of light exploded from the helmet and the soldier crumpled to the ground. The flash seemed to daze the others and Proust wheeled on his heels to smash the faceplate of a second soldier. That one went flying backward and Proust fired another fist at a third with the same effect.
The last cowered at the sight then regained his courage to face down the juggernaut. A round was fired point-blank into Proust's chest. The bullet pentrated and tore through him, missing his heart. Blood trickled from the wound but was ignored. Proust grabbed the rifle by the barrel and twisted to bring the soldier closer, then brought his free hand from under. His armored fist bowled into the coucil soldiers torso, causing a yelp from the pain. The follow-through tossed the soldier fifty feet away. He landed and did not move.
Proust looked around and a few people started to clap at his performance. He waved them off and started to fast-pace down the road until he saw a group of Outcast thugs threatening someone near an alley. He started a run toward the group who was too busy to notice his approach.
This training session to the hidden entrance to Sanctuary would prove to be very relaxing.
He looked around the corner and spied a group of Council soldiers setting up a streetside rally. Only a few of them at that corner, but that's all they needed anyway. Proust shook his head and popped a knuckle before grabbing a burgundy and gold colored gauntlet.
Proust started mumbling the litany of combat he was trained to use inmoments like these. He felt proud as his right arm snuggled perfectly into the second gauntlet. It sensed his fingers at the tips and shock padding inflated to securely "hug" his arm. He stomped once, as was his practice, like a bull ready to charge. Proust's black body-suit sported the cross of the Codex and flexed comfortably to his moves. He stretched slightly and calmly exhaled. Activating the rune on the comm, he said, "Training". This alerted everyone on the Codex frequency that Proust was active. Then he turned a corner and calmly walked into street.
Pedestrians of Paragon City have learned when a meta-fight was about to happen and stopped in their tracks. Proust was aware they were also looking at an 8-foot tall purple-skinned person. The Council group noticed him as well and pulled out their rifles. The people wanting to watch the brawl started to cower or scatter. Only the brave kept looking.
"Know you cannot defeat the Council, welp. We have a right to assembly!"
Cars stopped for Proust as he strode across the lanes. He shook his head at the words but did not stop. Traffic resumed behind him and cleared quickly.
"You will not stand," Proust growled and pointed toward the statue in the center of Steel Canyon. One soldier lowered his rifle to follow Proust's finger.
First.
"Cheddar this fool!" The Council soldiers raised rifles to shoulders and released projectile and laser pain. Proust jumped before the triggers and was airborn as the ammunition exhaled. He landed near the curious soldier and brought down both armored fists. A crack of thunder and blast of light exploded from the helmet and the soldier crumpled to the ground. The flash seemed to daze the others and Proust wheeled on his heels to smash the faceplate of a second soldier. That one went flying backward and Proust fired another fist at a third with the same effect.
The last cowered at the sight then regained his courage to face down the juggernaut. A round was fired point-blank into Proust's chest. The bullet pentrated and tore through him, missing his heart. Blood trickled from the wound but was ignored. Proust grabbed the rifle by the barrel and twisted to bring the soldier closer, then brought his free hand from under. His armored fist bowled into the coucil soldiers torso, causing a yelp from the pain. The follow-through tossed the soldier fifty feet away. He landed and did not move.
Proust looked around and a few people started to clap at his performance. He waved them off and started to fast-pace down the road until he saw a group of Outcast thugs threatening someone near an alley. He started a run toward the group who was too busy to notice his approach.
This training session to the hidden entrance to Sanctuary would prove to be very relaxing.
D.U.S.T. to dust
This should be easy.
She cracked her knuckles while looking at the target from the 10th floor of the ruined building. The glass window was shattered open and grimy from age and weather. The inside of the room was empty and equally grimy. Her footsteps unsettled the layers of dust and she prepared to attack.
The D.U.S.T. patrol had thinned out since the three-man team arrived in the area. It had been a few minutes since the lone soldier was left standing sentry in the street. Scarlet was not sure where the others were, but she couldn’t wait to long as they may be returning from their individual patrols. D.U.S.T. soldiers looked formidable as the armor was thick and their rifles were rather large. She had not seen them in serious action but the few visual records available revealed their firepower can easily dispatch the Devouring Earth. If the soldier got a good shot at Scarlet, then this sortie would end poorly for her. All she wanted was his gauntlet.
Scarlet planted a foot of the window frame and jumped. She absorbed the rushing wind from her fall and created a personal shield that enveloped her body. Two stories later she pushed against gravity and flew toward the soldier, his back to her. With both fists in front, Scarlet stretched her body flat and concentrated sonic shield around her hands and wrists. She couldn’t prevent her flight from being utterly silent and was a little surprised the solder started to turn in her direction, but he was too late.
She struck him in the upper left arm first. The sonic shield dented the armor but there was an audible snap before Scarlet coiled her body to wrap around him as he collapsed. They fell into a heap of clattering armor and flesh. Her skin-tight black body suit stretched with her movement and she recovered quickly. Jumping to her feet, she was surprised the soldier kept the grip on his rifle and lifted it, pointing toward her head. Scarlet dodged as the beam burned the air nearby. She lifted a leg as she moved and the rifle was kicked away but didn’t leave his grip. He grunted and struggled to get off his back with a useless arm.
“Bravo one!” He yelled.
A warning! Scarlet thought.
She lunged for the broken arm. He yelled incoherently as she yanked at the gauntlet but it was fixed in place. Again, the beam rifle was leveled but in close quarters the shot went wide again without much effort from Scarlet. She was frantic and thrusted her elbow against his helmet attempting to stop the fight quicker. His body went limp and the rifle clattered to the concrete.
As she removed the gauntlet, Scarlet checked it was still functional. Noticing no serious damage she checked the soldier for a pulse. After a few seconds she checked again and started to worry.
A blue laser beam crossed in front of her vision and temporarily blinded her. She fell back on her buttocks reacting to the surprise attack and could only think of the concept of luck. Another beam destroyed the concrete nearby and showered her with debris. Scarlet willed herself to resist gravity and propelled along the road. Only inches above the broken gravel she spun to orient herself then lifted toward the sky, clutching the gauntlet. She looked back as the two other D.U.S.T. soldiers arrived to their fallen comrade, the predator turned prey forgotten.
She looked away from the scene toward the gauntlet and it activated on its own. “Cape, you’re lucky you escaped. You are being tracked –“
The Scarlet Scorpion shut off the receiver and threw it to the ground. She stomped on it, crushing the gauntlet and then flew toward the Survivalist Compound.
She cracked her knuckles while looking at the target from the 10th floor of the ruined building. The glass window was shattered open and grimy from age and weather. The inside of the room was empty and equally grimy. Her footsteps unsettled the layers of dust and she prepared to attack.
The D.U.S.T. patrol had thinned out since the three-man team arrived in the area. It had been a few minutes since the lone soldier was left standing sentry in the street. Scarlet was not sure where the others were, but she couldn’t wait to long as they may be returning from their individual patrols. D.U.S.T. soldiers looked formidable as the armor was thick and their rifles were rather large. She had not seen them in serious action but the few visual records available revealed their firepower can easily dispatch the Devouring Earth. If the soldier got a good shot at Scarlet, then this sortie would end poorly for her. All she wanted was his gauntlet.
Scarlet planted a foot of the window frame and jumped. She absorbed the rushing wind from her fall and created a personal shield that enveloped her body. Two stories later she pushed against gravity and flew toward the soldier, his back to her. With both fists in front, Scarlet stretched her body flat and concentrated sonic shield around her hands and wrists. She couldn’t prevent her flight from being utterly silent and was a little surprised the solder started to turn in her direction, but he was too late.
She struck him in the upper left arm first. The sonic shield dented the armor but there was an audible snap before Scarlet coiled her body to wrap around him as he collapsed. They fell into a heap of clattering armor and flesh. Her skin-tight black body suit stretched with her movement and she recovered quickly. Jumping to her feet, she was surprised the soldier kept the grip on his rifle and lifted it, pointing toward her head. Scarlet dodged as the beam burned the air nearby. She lifted a leg as she moved and the rifle was kicked away but didn’t leave his grip. He grunted and struggled to get off his back with a useless arm.
“Bravo one!” He yelled.
A warning! Scarlet thought.
She lunged for the broken arm. He yelled incoherently as she yanked at the gauntlet but it was fixed in place. Again, the beam rifle was leveled but in close quarters the shot went wide again without much effort from Scarlet. She was frantic and thrusted her elbow against his helmet attempting to stop the fight quicker. His body went limp and the rifle clattered to the concrete.
As she removed the gauntlet, Scarlet checked it was still functional. Noticing no serious damage she checked the soldier for a pulse. After a few seconds she checked again and started to worry.
A blue laser beam crossed in front of her vision and temporarily blinded her. She fell back on her buttocks reacting to the surprise attack and could only think of the concept of luck. Another beam destroyed the concrete nearby and showered her with debris. Scarlet willed herself to resist gravity and propelled along the road. Only inches above the broken gravel she spun to orient herself then lifted toward the sky, clutching the gauntlet. She looked back as the two other D.U.S.T. soldiers arrived to their fallen comrade, the predator turned prey forgotten.
She looked away from the scene toward the gauntlet and it activated on its own. “Cape, you’re lucky you escaped. You are being tracked –“
The Scarlet Scorpion shut off the receiver and threw it to the ground. She stomped on it, crushing the gauntlet and then flew toward the Survivalist Compound.
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