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Forgotten: No one can escape. A great flash emerged above all of Aronia leaving each with short term memory loss. Years lost to the fog of amnesia. Can no one recall? That appears to be the case. Whom or what is responsible? Panic has stricken the globe. Will civilization collapse? What will emerge from the reset? Only time will tell. To each citizen of Aronia from the Global Gazette, we wish all luck.
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Murderous Among Us -Story Starter
Topic Started: Jun 1 2006, 11:41 AM (1,062 Views)
queen_gwenefiere
Unregistered

OMG......Oh Boy...I'll just post later...I just lost my entire posty. GRRRRRR...*runs away and Screams*
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LadySabre
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The figure before her looked shocked and quite pissed that its attack on Doryan had missed its mark. She smiled, the look almost laicious and mischeivious. As she finally reached her feet, she noticed that Doryan had as well, behind her, but she kept her eyes and main attention on the figure in front. She didn't know who or what it was, but it had tried to kill Doryan and thus, keep her in that cold, place of empty feeling which she guessed was death. NATALIA's fingers tingled as they hovered near the pistol at her hip, but she was waiting for the perfect moment to strike - waiting for the figure to pay more attention to Doryan than her.

At last! The figure looked as if its attention was on Doryan. As NATALIA reached for her pistol, she found out why. Doryan had come up from behind her and snaged the pistol right out of its holster at her hip! 'Shit!' she thought to herself, 'Now there's two on one. They've got me surrounded and now they've got my goddamn gun! Shit!' She expected to feel the barrel of the postol against her temple, but instead, she felt the bullets fly into the wall, missing her head by mere inches. She wondered if he was that bad of a shot or if whatever he'd done to help her had messed up his vision THAT much. As the dust from the shattered plaster and drywall flew down her throat, a fit of coughing came up and out of her mouth. Before she could even bring her hand up to cover her mouth, she was being grabbed by the midsection and hoisted into the air. She felt herself flying through the air, much like her father had done to her when she was a child.

Doryan was carrying her away from the figure and down the hall. She blinked, shocked. Was she being kidnapped or saved? As he ripped the door leading to the apartment hallway, she opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't think of anything to say, and so closed it again.

"Go to Lexianna at the Purple Goat, down in Myers Square. Tell her Doryan sent you. She owes me a favor and I mean to have kt filled. She know what to do. But GO! Unless you want to die again!"

His last sentence brought her out of the state of shock she had been in. With a quick nod, she turned and began to head down the hall at as fast of a pace as she could manage. At this time, it wasn't incredibly fast, as she was still sore and running, let alone walking, was awkward. She heard the door slam shut behind her and jumped slightly.

Lexianna at the Purple Goat. She'd never so much as heard of either of them. Myers Square was familiar to her ears, though. It was about two blocks away. She didn't know if she woulc run that far at her current speed in time to save Doryan. She was still baffled as to why she even wanted to save him - or why he'd wanted to save her. Now she was determined to save him. If she could, then she could not only complete her mission, but get some answers from him. Holding her arms out, she shoved the door leading to the stairs open. She'd never really particularly enjoyed riding in elevators. Even when she'd broken her leg a few years back she'd preferred the stairs or an escalator. Something about being stuck in a box that she couldn't necissarily control bugged her. Thus, she'd mastered the art of always taking stairs two at a time, sometimes three on certain staircases. This was not one of those staircases, however.

Upon reaching the ground story a few moments later, she slammed herself into that door, just as she had the one on the floor just above. It was at this time she her feet seemed to get confused, sending her stumbling forwards a few feet. Regaining control of herself, she dashed towards the door at the end of this hall which she could see even from here, that led outside. Her eyes darted to a shadowy figure hovering outside the door. She watched them reach down towards their side and began moving forward down the hall, being sure to keep towards the sides. She reached the lobby before the figure had even moved.

A wave of relief washed over her as the woman outside finally pulled out her keycard and opened the door, entering the building in a sopping wet bustle.

"Brr! Weather got nasty all of the sudden," she chuckled as NATALIA passed her, exiting the building. The woman was right - the water outside wasn't very pleasant. NATALIA didn't care, though. She was about ready to start making her way towards Myers Square at a limping run, when she realized that she was still wearing her field gear. Leaning down, she pushed a button on the right boot near the ankle.

A soft humming start up below her and before long, she found herself hovering a few inches above the ground. Bright flames erupted suddenly from the back of the boots, sending NATALIA forward at a high speed. Pulling the razor-thin remote from her front chest pocket, she used the directional arrow keys to navigate herself through the back alleys to Myers Square. Before emerging into the square from the last alley, she made sure to turn her boots off. She dropped to the ground with a light thud. Her eyes wandered around, trying to find the building known as the Purple Goat. There it was, directly across the square from her. Looking both ways, she checked to see that the square was free of the figure. She didn't see them anywhere here on the ground, so she scurried on over.

Turning the doorknob, she pushed the door open. A wave of cigarette smoke and alcohol stench crashed into NATALIA as she stepped over the threshold. No one back at the Maverick facility smoked or drank, so this was a foreign place to be in. Coughing, she moved further into the room, letting the door slam shut behind her. As she found her way over towards the bar (I'm assuming it's a bar, at least. lol), she took a seat and waited for the bar tender to acknowledge her presence and approach her.

OOC Note: I don't know what the deal is on bars here in Trevisan (or whether The Purple Goat IS a bar! lol), so if a young girl wouldn't be allowed in, let me know and I'll change things.
Wash: I think they really captured his essence.
Kaylee: He looks kinda mean.
Wash: That's sorta what I meant.
Simon: This must be what going mad feels like.
Kaylee: Everywhere I go, his eyes keep followin' me...
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queen_gwenefiere
Unregistered



The smokey room was hard to see through, but usualy when the crowd cleared, it was prett clean,a nd with the windows open and the fnas going, the smoke cleared quick. Standing at the bar, she was polishing off a couple clean glasses to be put back. Rush hour was over, and it was time to chill and calm down fo the evening. Just when she thought she was going to have it easy for the rest of the night, she saw the girl enter. SHe was covered in dust and there were drops of blood on her face. It brought back an all too unforgotten memory. Grabbing a clean damp towel from the basin below the bar, she moved down to the end where the girl had taken a seat. She smiled and handed it to her.

"You have a little blood here." She pointed to the coordinats of the spot and leaned against the bar. She looked a little too younge to drink, but she was obviously not here for that. COnsidering this. SHe leaned closer and looked the girl straight in the eyes.

"Can I offer you a private table?" She didn't exactly mean that, but what she meant, was if the girl wanted a private audiance with her. Lexianna was a hard ass through and through, but she had a soft spot fo the shock-striken and the weak. She couldn't exactly tell which of the two the girl represented most at the time, but it was enough to look at her face.

"I'll be right back." Turning, she moved all the way to the other end, opening the door to the office, the manager peter sitting inside, one of his girl friends half disappeared (face first) under the desk. She scowled and cleared her throat, the man opening his bloodhot eyes and looking up at her. He first blushed with embarassment, which turned to the red of anger.

"What the Hell do you want Lexi!?" he hissed.

"I have business...I need you to take the bar for a five minute slot." SHe shrugged, the corners of her mouth pulling up in an arrogent grin. She peered at the man for a moment, and then turned and walked out the door, pulling it closed behind her. Pulling her aprn from her waste, she stepped to each of the patrons at the bar and told them that someone would be with them soon. Finaly making it back to the girl, she dropped the apron on the bar and pulled up the gate, stepping to the other side.

"Come with me." She said, before moving through the lite crowd. Directing them through the room, she brought them to a back door. Lexi was the only one to live at the place. She was not a manager or anything, but she was the defense of the place. She kept her eye on things. There was a door at the back, which she pulled open and stepped through. It was dark inside, but it wouldn't be for long. Waiting for the girl to come through as well. Closing the metal door behind them, she flicked on the light, showering the place with bright white. There was a small round table in the center of the room, four chairs scattered around it. She moved passed this to the nest door, which she left open. With the light on it there, it brought new light to the drab surroundings. Her appartment was neat and clean, girly, but quaint. A sink and range sat to one side, a newer table at the oppostie wall. The Ice box was built into the floor, which was alot wasier of a model than the space-wasting stand-ups. Moving to it, she pulled out two bottles of water and motioned the girl to sit at the table, handing one of the cold drinks to her. It was hard to tell how she knew the girl needed her help, but Lexi could almost smell his scent on her.


Meanwhile....

Doryan stood motionless at the ned of the hallway. He didn't know whether to crouch or stand tall, but his legs threatened to buckle, she he held his stance. As the 'Thing' approached, his lips pulled back in a crude grimace. The clip only had a couple more rounds in it, and if he would have thought it would work on the creature, he would have already emptied it into the beast. Lifting the gun, he instead, waited until it had basicaly closed in on him, before he chucked it. His arm gained the momentum of his ability. it flew at lightning speed toward the creatures chesk. It would seem to him that that was probably a focal point for it. He didn't know how well it would work, but it didn't matter, he ahd tried. He contemplated escape, but that ahd proved fruitless. He figured that magick ould have no effect on the creature as well, little did he know. Backing against the wall of the trashy apartment, he knocke something over. Looking down to see what it was, he let his gaurd down. Making himself vulnerable.
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Davyn
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(( Soooo...wait. Doryan has a two foot wide chunk of concrete hurling towards the back of his skull at a distance of three feet. Perhaps you forgot about that part. =P I don't think he would have much time to consider throwing his gun at his assailant! ))
Blizzard Exec #1: I don't have a World of Warcraft account! Do you?
Blizzard Exec #2: No...*sigh* I have a life.
Randy Marsh: Give me the sword! I have a Warcraft account. I'm a newb, but I may be able to get it to Stan in time.
Blizzard Exec #1: A newb! We can't trust the Sword of A Thousand Truths to a newb!
Randy Marsh: It sounds to me like you have no choice!
--South Park
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queen_gwenefiere
Unregistered

OOC: Oh Yeah! Let me revise it right here...


IC:

Doryan saw the barb fly past his face and heard the sickening crunch of it going through the wall. He dropped sideways quickly, giving him only a moment to hurl the gun at the creature. He knew that this time he was done. If only he would have been smarter about it. He caught the chunk of concrete come past him with great force, he remained un hit and concious. Lucky him. He did not move though, he was almost in shock., His stomach was still bleeding, and he was beginning to get somewhat anemic from the loss of blood. Around his eyes had turned purple and baggy. He needed medical attention. WIshing for his gun...er Her gun, he diceded that if he had had it, he would have put the last two rounds in his skull, that was if the ifrst round didn't kill him.
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Davyn
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The hunter's frown went unseen beneath the emotionless bloodred "eye" that was the helmet's optical receptor. As the chunk of concrete tears free from the wall, exposing the piping, electrical work, and rebar within, Doryan STILL manages to dodge it! Unbelievable! No normal human had reflexes like that. Usually the target would have felt momentary relief upon seeing that the spiked tip of the harpoon had not impaled their head. Manticore had used this exact manuever several times before. None of the previous quarries had been able to anticipate what was coming. From what Manticore had witnessed within the past few minutes, as well as the data that was being collected even now, the hunter was of the opinion that Doryan's reflexes and reaction times bordered on precognition. A "Seer", as Manticore's people referred to them. Could it be true? If so, then it would explain a lot of tonight's events, including the reason why there was such a handsome price on the man's head. Manticore had not been sought out by the Earth authorities for this particular job, of course. Few humans even realized that the hunter existed. Now it was apparent that there were few others in the business that would have been able to even FIND Doryan, let alone bring him in. And why had Doryan gone to such lengths to ensure the safety of a Maverick? How could someone like him even BEGIN to care for an enemy when he had murdered a woman and child in cold blood? And what was up with the practice of dark magic? The pieces just didn't add up! Manticore wanted answers...and he wanted them now.

All of these thoughts race through the hunter's head even as the chunk of concrete collides with his chest armor. It did no damage, of course, but it did put Manticore slightly off balance. Not nearly enough of a distraction, though, to allow Doryan leeway to escape. The concrete breaks in half, falling heavily to the ground. More shouting came from the locked door to the stairwell. Manticore ignored it. There was a blur of motion...and something small and metallic hit Manticore on the chest as well. It was Doryan's gun. Or rather...the girl's. She had gotten away. Even now she was running down the stairs of the apartment complex and out the doors. It hardly mattered. She had become a secondary objective. Besides...Paradox would be tailing her shortly enough. Either way, Doryan was now cornered, bleeding, and utterly defenseless against Manticore. Even with such reflexes and skills as the man had displayed tonight, he had made some horrible blunders. So have I, Manticore thought with remorse, recalling the scene with the police. Some things were simply unavoidable. Oh well.

Manticore stoops slowly and deliberately to pick up the pistol that had been hurled at him. Standing back up, he holds it in front of his "face" and peers at it as if studying it. He speaks without looking directly at Doryan, though it was hard to tell for sure where the hunter's gaze was due to the helmet and the "eye". The voice that comes out of the sound filter is harsh and mechanical. It betrays nothing of the hunter's true race, gender, or age: "A projectile firearm...cute. You know, these usually work best when they're used in the proper manner." With one hand, Manticore flips the catch and the rest of the clip falls to the floor, "Not that it matters. These rounds can barely make it through kevlar." A low hum eminates from the hand holding the pistol as enhanced servo motors engage. Presently, Manticore squeezes the gun, crushing it and crumpling it until it is an unrecognizable hunk of scrap metal. He then tosses it over his shoulder, where it joins the rest of the rubble in the narrow hallway. The message was clear enough. Manticore could do the same to Doryan's skull if he so chose.

However, Manticore needed Doryan alive. Not only for the bounty...but because the hunter now had various questions to ask. But Doryan was a desperate man. Schizophrenic, homicidal, and irrational. Manticore would just as soon list "suicidal" on that list. No doubt the man would sooner kill himself than be taken back to where he came from. Manticore had a hunch that government experimentation was somehow involved, but it was only a hunch. Then again, "magic" seemed to play a key role. Only one thing was certain: Doyan Charrd was not going to die before Manticore turned him in and reaped the benefits. A slight flick of the hand causes the hunter's harpoon gun to disappear, only to be replaced seconds later by yet another smaller gun. This one was made of what looked to be milky white plastic and metal. In the center of it, a large syringe sloshed with a silver-gray liquid. An injection gun. No needle was visible, yet its purpose was clear. Wasting no time, Manticore takes two quick strides toward Doryan, his heavy boots crunching the rubble. The hunter reaches down, grabbing the man by the nape of his collar and holding him up in midair. Doryan's feet dangled about a foot off the ground despite his height; Manticore was holding him above eye level, gazing upwards at him. The hunter turns abruptly, slamming the man into the wall to the left. Not too hard...just enough to let Doryan know who he was dealing with. The bullet wound in the man's abdomen was still bleeding profusely; Doryan's shirt was entirely bloodsoaked and it was getting all over the carpet.

Still holding Doryan with his left hand, Manticore brings up the injection gun in his right...placing the tip directly against Doryan's forehead. "You've given me quite a chase tonight, Mr. Charrd," Manticore drones, "But I'm afraid it ends here." The hunter pauses, watching Doryan's expressions carefully. It was hard to tell if the man was afraid or simply psychotic. "You think I'm going to kill you, don't you? Believe me, it's tempting considering what you've done. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Yes...But you're useless to me dead. If I wanted to kill you, I could have done so the moment I entered the Carpenters' apartment. A little neurotoxin through the ventillation. Odorless...invisible...efficient." Here, Manticore shifts the aim of the injection gun to Doryan's left temple and moves in even closer to the man. At such a close range, the fiber optics of Manticore's visual receptor could be seen, whirring slightly as they refocused. In the dim lighting of the hallway, Doryan would surely be able to see his own pallid reflection as well. Manticore continues, "But I won't kill you, Doryan. Oh no. You're going straight back to the hell you escaped on Earth. Do you know what this is, Mr. Charrd?" Manticore indicates the injection gun with a slight incline of the head, "This syringe is filled with dormant nanobots. They're tiny, microscopic robots that operate on a sub-molecular level. There are millions in here. Billions. The minute they're injected into a person's bloodstream, the body heat activates them and they come alive. These are miracle machines, Doryan. They target areas of disease or injury and immediately set to work repairing your body. Virtually any ailment gone within moments. They can even replace lost limbs. A bullet wound is child's play to them. Hold still. This may sting a little."

Thus saying, Manticore abruptly shifts the aim of the injection gun to Doryan's stomach. The nanobots could locate the anomaly more rapidly that way, thus repairing it all the sooner. He squeezes the trigger...instantly pumping the nanobots into Doryan's system via the epidermis. No needles were involved, but it would still hurt something fierce. Once inside, the nanobots take only a second to activate, then immediately group and focus on the most obvious injury to Doryan's body: the gunshot wound. Manticore releases Doryan's body once more, allowing him to slump to the ground. The gun in the hunter's hand disappears and changes back into the dart launcher that he had used earlier. Even now Doryan's strength would be returning. The nanobots not only took care of major injuries, but they also served to rejuvenate muscles, clear clogged arteries, and remove general fatigue. Presently, Doryan's injury was disappearing before his very eyes. If he were to lift his shirt, of course. Having located the bullet lodged within Doryan's stomach, the nanobots slowly work it out through the wound. The bullet pops out, resting beneath the fabric of Doryan's shirt even as his wound seals up...good as new.

"Right now you're feeling refreshed, Mr. Charrd," Manticore says, keeping a careful aim on the man, "But don't get any funny ideas or you'll be unconscious before you can move. I imagine you're also feeling quite hungry. Your body's metabolism has just been severely accelerated. The nanobots can't work with nothing to go on, of course." Manticore steps forward once more. Another flash of blue light produces four odd-looking hoops in his left hand. "These are restraining hoops. They are remotely controlled." As Manticore speaks, he swiftly affixes the said hoops to Doryan's wrists and ankles. At first they are far too big, but they whir and constrict quite tightly after only a few moments. Manticore continues, "They allow you free range of motion for the moment. Should you attempt anything, however, the electromagnetic signatures programmed in each pair will cause them to come together at your wrists and ankles, respectively. Any further attempt to remove them will send a painful electrical shock through your body and you would only be further torturing yourself. Therefore it is in your best interest to cooperate with me, Doryan. Your antics tonight have left me very impatient."

With no visible gesture on Manticore's part, the door through which Natalia had escaped only moments before opens with a low electronic buzz. The hunter gestures with the dart launcher, "Get up. Through the door and down the stairs. Nothing funny. By now your landlady has alerted the authorities and I imagine that their presence won't be beneficial to either of us."
Blizzard Exec #1: I don't have a World of Warcraft account! Do you?
Blizzard Exec #2: No...*sigh* I have a life.
Randy Marsh: Give me the sword! I have a Warcraft account. I'm a newb, but I may be able to get it to Stan in time.
Blizzard Exec #1: A newb! We can't trust the Sword of A Thousand Truths to a newb!
Randy Marsh: It sounds to me like you have no choice!
--South Park
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LadySabre
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"Huh? Oh, yes... Thank you..." she mumbled almost inaudibly as the woman at the bar handed her a wet cloth. As the woman leaned onto the bar and began to stare at her, Natalia raised her eyes some and stared back blankly. She held the wet cloth in her hands, but did nothing to wipe the blood from her face.

She remained silent when the woman asked her if she wanted a private table. To be honest, she'd rather stay in the big, crowded room full of people who most likely would NOT try to kill her. The woman said something, but Natalia missed what it was and didn't feel the urge to ask her to repeat herself, especially because she was walking away. Thank goodness. Alone at last. Damn! That woman must be Lexianna, though. There weren't any other women that Natalia had passed on her way in here, or at least none that she'd noticed. She'd just run off the person who was supposed to help Doryan.

The woman returned to the bar again and Natalia's heart skipped a beat. As if in a completely different state of mind from before, this one much more active, Natalia hopped down from her stool, wincing as she hit the floor slightly, and did as the woman told her to do. Natalia could feel the woman's hand wrapped tightly around hers as if afraid she might get lost in the crowd. Perhaps that wasn't such a bad idea, after all...

The darkness on the other side of the door shocked Natalia. Blinking furiously, she waited for her pupils to enlarge themselves so that she could see where she was and where she was going. The light flicked on and again, Natalia blinked rapidly, this time forcing her pupils to shrink so that she wasn't blinded. Shaking her head lightly, she let out a small breath once her eyesight was back to normal.

Natalia's eyes wandered around the room thoughtfully. It was an apartment, obviously owned by a female, whom Natalia presumed was standing directly in front of her. Natalia looked up as the woman handed her a water bottle from the floor fridge. They'd had a few of those back at the compound, but not too many. Sure, they saved space, but Natalia had always like the feel of the old-fashioned fridges. One hand went up and her fingers wrapped around the cold item. She bit her lip some, shocked at how cold it was and then relaxed, the bottle in one hand, the wet cloth in the other. The woman did not speak then. Perhaps she wanted Natalia to first...

"I'm looking for Lexianna. Doryan says she owes him a favor and that he intends to have it filled. He's in the Skylark Apartment building, second floor, half dead. There's something trying to kill him. I don't know why I care, seeing as Doryan killed me to begin with, but then he brought me back to life and I guess I want to know why. I tried to kill him first, though, so I guess it was only fair, but I was just trying to do my job." The last part of her little schpeal came out more as a sob. The water bottle, condensating like mad, slipped through her fingers and fell to the floor as Natalia finally let out all of the emotions she'd been trying to keep inside of her.
Wash: I think they really captured his essence.
Kaylee: He looks kinda mean.
Wash: That's sorta what I meant.
Simon: This must be what going mad feels like.
Kaylee: Everywhere I go, his eyes keep followin' me...
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queen_gwenefiere
Unregistered

Through the agony of the gunshot, he hardly noticed where the concrete had flown off to, and the point at which it shattered, but he did hear it and looked up through the dust and debris to see that it had been the 'Thing' that ahd caused it to break. He didn't care though, he wished he would drain out, die. He regretted sending the girl and knew that if Lexianna got into this, all hell would break loose. It was inevitable now though. A single thought of glee came though. She would avenge him and his name in their collaberation, their coven so to speak. They were scattered, but all would come together once one was lost, from all points of the world. None were gone yet, he could feel it. He felt the beast lift him from the floor and then the crash into the wall came with a fresh torrent of pain which seemed to sober him. His dark eyes looked up to the red point of light on it's head. His vision wavered but steadied when he felt the circular edge of the gun point against his forehead, his eyes rolling up to look at it and exposing the bloodshot underside of his eyes. He was getting paler by the second and the pain was more excrutiating in the air the way he was. gravity was not exactly friendly in such conditions. He heard most of what the thing had said, but could not piece much of it together in the mental condition he was suffering. His personalities were shifting the a rivers waters, from one to the other and back around. He most vicious. D came around finaly, and the man grinned, his eyes closing to small slits.

"Do what you will, you cocksucker. Nothing could be any worse then what they put me through in prison." He said almost solemnly. A giggle escaped his lips and he leaned his head back, as the gun was taken from his head and pressed to his stomach.

This new pain made him cry out, the veins in his neck bulging and threatening to burst through his throat. Tears streamed down his scarred cheeks. he felt the air come up below him and found himself once more on the floor, leaning against the hallway wall. He felt the hot pain of the injection searing through his wound. It was like pouring alcohol on a chainsaw gash. His fingers tore at his shirt as he healed, sweat pouring from his pores in almost visible streams. It didn't last long though, slowly receding into the background and then to virtualy no pain at all. He still felt weak, but well enough to look up at the creature in mild shock. WHy had it helped him? Well that was obvious. He knew about the bounty, that's why he was in Aronia. He had never expected them to send this though. As his strength slowly returned, he switched to one of his more persuadeable personalities. It was easier for him to let go like that.

"No funny Ideas..." He agreed, letting the creature put the holds on him. He didn't want to get shocked or anything like that. At this stage it was go with the flow. He was fairly good at it too. Standing, he did as he was bade, but walked slowly, giving time if it was needed. He had plans after all, this was not the end. He ahd listened well enough to know what the man said now, and it all was beginning to register together. Heading out the door, he looked both ways up and down the hall. Heading out and toward the exit, he peered back once in the good light and god a good look at the creature. Storing this deep within his mind, he would be able to transmit it to the rest through his dreams, as long as he wasn't too far away.


Meanwhile....


Lexianna looked at the girl somewhat bewildered, the rest was knowing. So it was him after all. She knew it from the second that she saw the girl, she was here on his behalf. The bastard! SHe thought to herself, using a girl, who was obviously underage and by the looks of her garb from a rival cooporative army or system. She frowned a little, looking to the floor and still listening. Her ears perked as the girl began to break, and she stepped closer to the girl, looking sympetheticaly at her. She knew what it felt like to be where the girls was, that was how she began. Taking the girl by her forearms, she led her to a chair, sitting her in it, with her toe she reached around to the next closest chair and pulled it over so she could sit as well.

"You did well, I'm Lexi. What I worry about is wether it will be after you." She held the sypathey in her voice. SHe didn't want the girl to take her wrong, but she still needed some important information. She was a little panicd though. Doryan was important to the Group.

"Can you tell me exactly what happened? Why you were there and what you saw?" She turned a little and reached for the cold bottle of water, twisting and breaking the seal and setting it in front of her on the table. "ANy information you give me will be helpful. And After this, I will give you a few choices of what you should do after tonight. If What is happening is what I think it is, You will appreciate them." She smiled a little and handed the girl a clean napkin from her pocket. She had them on her all the time, being a waitress and tender. She watched as the girl let out her frustration, mental willing her to drain it from herself. It was the one thing that usualy made people like this, and that was death. She knew what the girl meant as that she had died and Doryan had brought her back. He was the most powerful elemental Lexi had seen, and that was the role he played in the organization. (Their secret organization that was a secret...Lol) Reaching out with the dampened towl from the girls hand, she wiped the blood from her face, letting her calm a little before she went on. It was important that she remain comfortable in shock, or it could premanatly damage her mental stability.
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Davyn
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Manticore pays little heed to the meaningless prattle being spewed by Doryan. The hunter had heard the same dribble uttered in over a dozen different languages by various targets in the past. It was always the same. Namecalling, empty threats, and a desperate apathy towards what awaited them once they were turned in. The last part always gave Manticore a laugh. They thought they had been through it all. So-called "tough guys". But more often than not, the quarries that Manticore brought back alive were either executed in a swift and legal proceedure, or were put through so much physical and mental anguish that they only WISHED they were dead. Either way, Manticore didn't care. As long as he collected the bounty. And the sooner, the better.

As the hunter continues to lead the captive human down the stairwell, another quick mental command releases the locks on the doors above. It didn't take specialized sonic receptors to be able to hear the landlady's furious shriek at the sight that was before her eyes. Dozens of tenants were also now cluttering the hallway, staring in disbelief at the rubble and at the hole in the wall. The landlady was already speed-dialing the police. Manticore didn't care. By the time they arrived, he would be long gone along with Doryan. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairwell, the hunter strides briskly across the lobby, keeping Doryan in front of him until they reach the front doors. Another electronic lock. The door clicks open automatically and Manticore guides his prey into the brisk night air. Street lamps cast luminescent patches of light onto the slick pavement. It was raining fairly hard, drenching everything in sight, including Manticore and Doryan. Large rivulets of water were already running down the hunter's jetblack armor and causing his cloak to cling slightly. Good. Visibility would be impaired to any who were seeking them. The traffic was down to a minimum in this neighborhood; only a few hovercars could be seen a couple blocks down and they were high in the air anyway. Manticore opens another secured comm channel to his ship's central computer. The conversation would go completely unnoticed by Doryan.

"Paradox...what's the status of the holosphere? I assume you launched it already?"

"Of course. About three minutes ago, actually. Just now entering Trevison. Honestly, these people and their technology...tch! I guess their shields are only designed to keep locals out. A particle manipulator should do the trick..."

"Good. Did you get the address verified?"

"Yes. Myers Square, Purple Goat. It's a small pub." There was a slight pause and Manticore could have sworn a snicker could be heard over the comm, "...Purple Goat. I tell ya, boss, I've heard some doozies in my time, but---"

"Good. Now I need you to get a lock on myself and Doryan. We're outside his apartment complex. You need to be quick...before our friendly neighborhood law enforcers arrive."

"Give me a second..." Another pause. "The weather is interfering slightly with the tracking system. Still, the coordinates only have to be approximate. It will take slightly longer to locate the two of you, but the actual transportation process shouldn't be disrupted."

Manticore nods, "Very well. Hurry, though. This one's fidgety and I have the feeling he'll try something idiotic the moment he gets the chance."

A smirk could be heard in the computer's feminine voice, "Surely you have an anti-idiot gun stored somewhere on you?"

"The design still has some bugs to work out. Just hurry, okay?"

"Roger that. Paradox out."

It would only be moments now before Paradox could gain a lock on Doryan and Manticore, thus allowing the ship to effectively "teleport" them directly from the planet's surface and aboard the orbiting vessel. The physics were simple: individual molecules were disassembled, contained within an energy field, transported at near-light speeds, then reconstructed meticulously once they reached their desired destination. Such technology was already employed by various races and cultures throughout the galaxy, but Manticore had tweaked the parameters slightly so that the process was less disorienting on the targets and about twice as fast. Now it was only a race of time to see whether Paradox could locate them before the local police force did...

FIVE MINUTES AGO...

High in orbit above the planet Aronia, the starship known as "Paradox" maintained its present course and velocity. It had been in this very orbit for the past month and a half while Manticore investigated the Doryan Charrd case, gathering neccessary information that would be vital in apprehending the said target. Though Paradox now belonged to the shadowy bounty hunter, it was not one of Manticore's own creations. Originally, the sleek, 150 foot-long starship had been sanctioned by Vertex Drive Yards, Ltd. It was an experimental model; a prototype for the J'rath Imperial Navy. Manticore had taken it off of their hands before the diagnostics technicians had even had a chance to test its capacities. What made it unique among all the other ships in the known universe were its propulsion systems. In normal space, it was entirely capable of reaching sub-light speeds without overheating. However, it also possessed the ability to create temporary wormholes: actual rips in the fabric of space/time. What Paradox's designers had not realized, of course, was that the side effects of such tampering were disastrous. They did not fully understand the power that they weilded. Left alone, the wormholes would continue to expand in space until they would eventually engulf entire galaxies. In a best-case scenario, the affected planets would experience alternate realities at sporadic intervals and/or be sent forwards and backwards through their own timelines. The worst-case scenario, of course, was utter destruction on a scale larger than a million black holes. Manticore had realized this immediately and toiled night and day to fix the formula. He had eventually succeeded in stabilizing the wormhole inducer, thus unwittingly saving the universe.

Over the past few years, Manticore had made hundreds of revisions to Paradox's original design. The ship had been outfitted with the latest in advanced weaponry. Some of it was simply pirated from other cultures, but most of them were designs crafted specifically by the hunter. The most obvious advancement was the installation of a highly sophisticated data-storage and analysis system dubbed the "Ethernet". This system could effectively monitor all combat information relayed by Manticore's body armor, scan opponents for weaknesses, and then fathom a viable solution to defeat or capture the target. Early on, Manticore had seen the need for another system working in tandem with the Ethernet to maintain the enormous amounts of data collected. Thus, Paradox's too-human A.I. had been crafted. Now, as a result, the ship itself had its own sarcastic personality. Manticore resented this outwardly, but inwardly he was pleased with the effectiveness with which Paradox operated. After all, it never hurt to have someone watching your back in this business. And who better to trust than a machine?

Now, a small hatch near the underbelly of the ship opens. Moments later, a cylindrical capsule is launched towards the planet below. As the capsule shoots through the void of space, four smaller boost engines ignite near the rear, propelling the object at an even faster rate towards Aronia. Upon entering the planet's atmosphere, the cylinder is met with an enormous amount of friction and the metallic alloy begins to glow a bright cheery red. Presently, the cylinder is caught in the planet's gravity well, picking up even more velocity. Finally, when the outer hull of the projectile has taken all the beating it can handle, it simply disappears, ripping off only to fall to the ground eventually in smoking pieces. Within the cylinder is a black sphere about the size of a large melon. The sphere continues onward, breaking through the cloudbank of a gathering storm, then speeding downward even faster towards the ground. Several intense seconds later, an earth-shattering impact can be heard from a nearby forested area. Various birds take to the sky, cawing in annoyance at the blatant disruption of their sleep. Moments later, the rain came pouring down out of the heavens, soaking the ground and churning up mud. A loud hissing sound can be heard coming from the large crater where the sphere had struck and a faint plume of steam can be seen rising slowly in the air before being swept away in the downpour.

It takes Paradox a minute to re-orient and gain her bearings. For the task at hand, she would have to transfer active awareness to the holosphere while the ship in orbit operated on pre-programmed algorithms. Paradox could, of course, multitask better than any other computer system around, but she figured she would have to focus as much as possible on the job at hand right now. Besides...in the past month and a half in orbit, there had been very few threats and none of them had been from sentient entities. Slowly, the still-cooling sphere splits along its hemisphere into two equal halves. Within it is yet another sphere which rises from the impact site and spins in place, gathering data on its surroundings. It, too, was jetblack with a large red lens on one side and dark purple circuitry patterns criss-crossing its surface. Slightly larger than a baseball, the holosphere propelled itself using compressed anti-grav thrusters situated all around its hull. Most technologically advanced cultures tended to ignore such probes, passing them off as droids going about their various duties. However, recent data analysis had gathered that Trevison was behind galactic standards by about half a century. A floating sphere could still stick out. Paradox was not worried, though. The holosphere employed the use of highly advanced laser and hologram technologies. In effect, the small orb could disappear from the visual spectrum at will, as well as duplicate the image of any object up to the size of the average commercial vehicle. Using focused lasers also allowed Paradox to form a solidified body of concentrated light energy. Anyone that touched her would realize in an instant that her body was not human. Paradox didn't care. She tried not to let anyone touch her in the first place and those who usually tried wound up with a holographic fist to the jaw and laser burns on their posteriors.

There...Trevison. The holosphere's optical receptor focuses on the image in the distance, magnifying and filtering. The bright city lights cast an eerie glow along the otherwise darkened horizon. The small orb hovers ever higher into the night sky, heedless of the rain. Once it is beyond the canopy of the trees, the holosphere shoots off at phenomenal speeds, approaching its destination. Paradox found this technological anomaly highly unusual in a world such as Aronia. The humans of Trevison apparently ignored all else outside their bubble of civilization. They relied on technology rather than meshing the phenomenon of magic wholly into their culture. Fools. Their technology was laughable. If their entire planet had been like Trevison, no doubt it would have been conquered long ago by some tyrranical alien race. Even now, as Paradox came to the outer forcefield, she deployed a small device the size of a doctor's needle. Manticore came over the comm. Checking up on her again. Wanting a lift. She gave him the estimations, then relayed the data to the ship. It would locate them soon enough despite the slight hinderance of the storm. Focusing back on the task at hand, the holosphere extends the particle manipulator towards the forcefield. An unseen beam of light eminates from the device, then expands outward in a circular pattern, diverting the flow of energy from the forcefield. Within moments, a hole just large enough for the holosphere had been formed without triggering any alarms. Paradox slips through, then retracts the manipulator, closing the force field once more.

Now...the Purple Goat. Where was it? Paradox takes a moment to hack into the Trevison municipal building's central computer. A 3-D map of the city appears to Paradox as she inputs the information into the system. There...the map zoomed in on the area known as Myers Square, further zooming in on the pub. Paradox records the image in her databanks, then takes off across the city in the indicated direction. Traveling at speeds exceeding 95 mph, the holosphere reaches Myers Square unnoticed and slips into a side alley right next to the Purple Goat. There was no point playing games here. Paradox was going to find out why Doryan had told the girl to go to this address. And more importantly...why the girl had been stupid enough to listen to a man who had tried to kill her! Paradox shook her head inwardly. Organics! Such idiots.

The holosphere lowers to a height of about three feet off of the ground. Presently, an image flickers around the small orb, staticy at first, then re-forming and solidifying. In place of the holosphere now stood a stunningly attractive young woman in a dark purple, formfitting jumpsuit. She had crystal blue eyes and flowing blonde hair that came down all the way to her waist. Any male would attest to the fact that she was a regular knockout, albeit stereotyped as the typical "blonde bimbo". Paradox had chosen this guise for exactly that purpose. It was just as deceptive as the A.I. program herself. Pompous males were usually given the most authority in any given society, so this form made them all the easier to seduce. However, perhaps tonight called for some refinements. She needed to be a figure of authority. That could be accomplished easily enough. Recalling an image from Manticore's previous encounter with the Trevison police force earlier this evening, Paradox's physical manifestation shimmers and changes accordingly. Now, her facial features were the same, as were her bodily dimensions, but her hair was now brunette and had been shortened and tied up in a tight bun. Her eyes were a bright green and she was wearing the uniform of a Lieutenant of the Trevison Metropolitan Police Department. A wry smile crosses her holographic lips. Excellent.

Paradox wastes no time in emerging from the alleyway and making her way into the pub. The smoke that had been there earlier was long since gone; the fans had effectively cleared it away, sweeping it out the windows. Paradox smirks briefly, wondering just how drunk you had to be not to close the windows when it was pouring down rain outside. Again, though, she could care less. Let the idiot humans get wet. The crowd inside was a small one and it didn't take long before all eyes turned her way. Most of them, however, averted their gaze when they realized what the uniform signified. Paradox fixes a steely gaze on the current tender who was covering in Lexianna's stead and makes her way directly over to the man. Leaning against the counter, she produces a small device that research had shown was standard among the police force. It was a holo-inducer. Ironic, considering Paradox's guise, but it was all part of a ruse.

"Excuse me," Paradox says to the tender in an authoritative voice, "I'm Lieutenant Par...erm...Paris with the T.M.P.D." As she speaks, she flashes an authentic-looking badge while simultaneously activating the holo-inducer. A six-inch figure of a girl appears above the device, rotating slowly as personal statistics scrolled by to either side, as well as close ups of the face from the front and side. It was Natalia to a tee. The personal statistics were prefabricated, of course, but the tender would hardly notice. Every other detail of the image had been taken directly from Manticore's interactions with the girl. The reconstruction was alarming and thoroughly convincing. Paradox continues, "We have reason to believe that this girl was somehow involved in multiple cases of homicide earlier this evening. Several eyewitnesses say they saw her heading towards Myers Square not too long ago and I was wondering if you'd seen anyone around here that fits this description. She is not a prime suspect to the murders, but we'd still like to take her in for some questioning. Anything you know would be greatly appreciated, sir."
Blizzard Exec #1: I don't have a World of Warcraft account! Do you?
Blizzard Exec #2: No...*sigh* I have a life.
Randy Marsh: Give me the sword! I have a Warcraft account. I'm a newb, but I may be able to get it to Stan in time.
Blizzard Exec #1: A newb! We can't trust the Sword of A Thousand Truths to a newb!
Randy Marsh: It sounds to me like you have no choice!
--South Park
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Natalia felt something, someone, touching her. She recoiled some, but after only a moment's hesitation, let the woman lead her over to a different, more comfortable chair. Natalia's breaths, harsh and rasping, were followed by small coughs as she tried to regain her composure. She didn't know why she'd broken down. She wasn't supposed to. What would her paretns say if they knew about this? What would the Chief?...

But then again, what would THEY have done if THEY were in Natalia's position now? Certainly they would not have been able to keep their cool for so long. Everyone had a breaking point. And after all that Natalia had been through in the past few hours (or was it days?) was certainly past the breaking point for most.

When the woman assured her that she was, infact, Lexianna, the person Doryan sent her to find, a wave of relief washed over her - finally, she'd managed to do SOMETHING right. What she said about the figure worried Natalia, however. She hadn't thought about whether it would come after her next or not. Her eyes filled with fear then. Suddenly, she didn't feel safe anymore.

"What happened? There's no time. Doryan could be dead by now and I canNOT get answers from him if he's DEAD!" She doubted she really made any sense to Lexianna, but she knew exactly what she was talking about. If they were going to Doryan, they couldn't just sit here on their asses jibber-jabbering about the past. What mattered now was what they DID to secure Doryan's (and perhaps her's, too) future.
Wash: I think they really captured his essence.
Kaylee: He looks kinda mean.
Wash: That's sorta what I meant.
Simon: This must be what going mad feels like.
Kaylee: Everywhere I go, his eyes keep followin' me...
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