Stories from RhyDin & The Rings

"Good evening, sir. The temperature is currently six degrees and mostly cloudy. Winds are at seven knots from the northeast."

The youthful, sultry, almost seductive voice precedes the appearance of the curvaceous holographic construct. Golden in color, her form appears as a lovely young woman, taut muscle showing under soft, smooth skin. Over this is a garment that appears as gauzy as chiffon and yet shimmers and seems to fragment into crystalline shards that disrupt the sculpt of projected perfection for bare fractions of a second every now and again - just often enough to be noticeable and occasionally annoying.

He makes a mental note to upgrade the air filters and sighs, looking her over with a lustful eye. "If you weren't a construct, Diana, I could think of a number of pleasures I would introduce you to."

The holographic construct merely looks back at hims with a blank, businesslike stare, the glowing cerulean eyes regarding him patiently, her wrists held crossed at the small of her back. The overall effect of the pose displays her petite shape very prettily.

She doesn't say anything back to him, patiently waiting for him to get down to business. He shrugs, giving her his best boyish grin. "You can't blame me for trying. Begin scanning EM bands and auditory frequencies."

The construct nods once. "Of course, sir. Preliminary monitoring indicates no significant disturbances."

Leaving her to it, he walks over to an alcove carved into solid rock and touches a panel built into the wall next to it. Light immediately begins to illuminate the chamber - red light, so as not to ruin his night vision - and the alcove shows its contents.

The dark suit stands there, staring back at him. Looking like a cross between a medieval armorer's design and finished off by the whim of some mad scientist with too much technology at his fingertips, he feels the familiar emotions course through him.

Anticipation. Excitment. Pride. The thrill of remembered sensations of strength and power. And to top it all off, like a secret ingredient to cap off a perfect recipe and give it a bit of zing - a touch of fear.

Diana clears her holographic throat behind him, a little thing he had programmed in himself. It always amuses him to see the looks on people's face when she would pop up out of thin air next to him and clear her throat politely to get his attention.

Turning towards her, he arches an eyebrow. It's all the signal she needs. "Sir, scanning of EM band and auditory frequencies is complete. No significant disturbance at this time."

"Perfect, Diana. I think tonight we're going to do a simple overflight. Mapping, familiarizing, get the lay of the territory and start plotting routes."

"Excellent, sir. Shall I get everything ready then?"

Turning back to the alcove, he nods. "Indeed. Start the upload and configurations for the suit. Are we charged?"

The golden hologram closes her brilliant blue eyes for a moment, then opens them as she replies. "Suit diagnostics are complete. Storage cells show 92% capacity. Suit condition is optimal, no damage."

Stepping into the alcove, he touches a spot in the center of the metal 'collar' that sits atop the torso. As soon as he does, the black parts - which resembles some sort of alien musculature - of the suit seem to withdraw, shrinking away from other, more polished pieces until all that is left is what appears to be a rudimentary skeletal metallic frame just the right size for its owner.

With a step, a duck and a turn, he is into that frame, which extends down his arms, legs, along the spine of his back and up over the top of his head. As soon as he is settled in, the suit seems to take a cue. Slender silver lines extend and wrap around his limbs and torso, and just as they finish he reaches up and touches the collar again.

Within seconds he is wrapped in the black armor, touching the panel near the alcove as he steps out it. Across the chamber, a door irises open and cold night air rushes into the sealed chamber.

"Are you up, Diana?"

"Yes, sir. Upload is complete. Sensors and flight system have been configured."

"All right...then let's get it started. Got any music for me?"

There is a moment of silence, followed by the first strains of 'Ave Maria,' which gets a grimace. "You've got to be kidding."

'Ave Maria' cuts off, and there is another moment of silence that gives him time to wonder if the synthetic construct might have found a sense of humor, before Puddle of Mudd starts up with 'Blurry.' He grins and nods. "Much better."

There is a brief, upward-cycling whine as the thrusters built into the suit at multiple points charge, and with a running leap forwards the black armored figure sails out into the night sky of Rhy'Din.

Adapted and edited from live roleplay.

The call for help had gotten his attention in a hurry, as soon as the dragon had gone hurtling through the room...which he'd just managed to get out of the way of. He wasn't sure what was going on, but as soon as that one word had reached his ears, he'd been committed.

And so it was out the back door he went, into the alleyway. Reaching into the coat he wears, he brushes his finger across a seam just so, triggering the process...

It's instantaneous, the reaction. Instantly the black cloth is gone, sucked away to reveal a light skeletal frame that contracts to his frame as he raises his arms to the sides, his legs parting just slightly. In a moment the frame has wrapped around his torso, arms and legs, almost seeming to unfolded itself in thin layers. Anyone watching this would see the process that looks impossible to behold, as out of that skeletal frame unfolds and extrudes layer after layer of monomolecular black and silver plates, starting at the spine and torso and swiftly working out along his arms and legs to completely cover his frame.

At the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet, as the armor closes around them, show directed energy ports, which light up with a sudden whine much like an old camera flash as stored energy flows into them. A moment later those plates flow up over his head and close. Brilliant triangular slits mark his eyes, which serve as viewports should he ever lose power...but only rarely does that happen.

The entire process takes just over ten seconds. To an outside observer the transformation would, in this light, look almost organic rather than mechanical, it happens so fast and fluidly.

And as soon as it's done, the armored figure looks up. With a sudden upward-cycling whine and a flare of thrust from the energy ports, he rockets into the sky above the Inn. The sound barrier breaks a hundred feet above the buildings below, and he holds it for just a minute before cutting the engines and flipping upside down, his head snapping up to look down on the scene for the split-second he has, assessing things. The HUD already has a hi-res image, highlighting the participants, the vital signs of the injured, the apparent assaulter, a young punk-looking dude with what his targeting sensors reads as a .357.

You've gotta be kidding. Right?

Already he can feel gravity claiming him again, just as the body is being hurled into the alleyway. Which tells him exactly where he's going to be going. As fast as thought, those thrusters fire, propelling him downwards. At the last second, he flips feet down, firing hard...

There is the roaring, sudden sound of thrusters firing above, tossing a brilliant flare of light on the scene out front for a moment before a black-and-silvered armored figure drops out of nowhere to land on the stones of the street with a metallic CLANG! in a crouch facing the combatants. There is the faint whine of some kind of servos as he gets to his feet, brilliant slits of light marking his gaze.

This particular model is something he's been working on, a rapid-deployment version of his standard armor. It doesn't have all of the weapons of the complete modular system, but for situations like this, he finds, it's not an absolute necessity.

So long as nothing malfunctions. This is actually the first field test, but at the moment there's no reason to let anyone else know that.

Everything seems to be working just fine for the moment, and keeping the outside comms off, he starts looking around. "Diana, do you have a feed?"

The female voice comes back right away. "Yes, sir. I'm currently uploaded and monitoring. This is not a very good idea, you know."

He's hard pressed not to laugh. "We can discuss it later. I'm busy."

"Quite so, sir."

He looks back and forth, trying to get a feel for the situation. He's seen the dragon before - Icer, he recalls her name, something of a celebrity - going after the punk with the gun, who is...leaping from wall to wall like a monkey. Pretty impressive, he has to say, for what appears to be an unaugmented human.

But then the girl starts screaming for Icer to stop, and things start getting a bit confusing. Without knowing who is who or what's what, he does the only logical thing - heads for the cowboy lying lifeless in the alleyway. A quick scan shows the man is still alive - impressive for a man shot by the handheld version of a cannon The question being asked by the girl gets an answer on two fronts. The voice that comes out from the armor as he turns on the external comms is low, deep, unaccented...and synthesized. Trying to keep it in the realm of human while not being too much like his own voice. "He's alive."

The other man kneels by the cowboy's side, chambering a bullet with both hands, and once his left is freed he's checking vitals the old-fashioned way. "Alive, but unconscious." Checking his eyes, then his wounds. "Taneth... get some pressure on his chest."

He turns partially to the side at this point, cutting the external comms for a moment. "Diana, monitor this man's vitals."

"Yes, sir. He appears to have lost a lot of blood, and that is a .357 wound in his chest. I recommend that he receive medical attention as soon as possible."

"Yeah, I figured that out already."

At that point the other man is motioning to the nearby redhead. "You. Can you call for help? Find a doctor, a healer?"

He takes a moment to look at the man. The heads-up display shows a few details from his home files - Alain DeMeur, local businessman, a Baron of some realm north of Rhy'din, and other things besides. He remembers reading the file over and had been by equal turns intrigued and impressed, particularly by the laws of the Barony the man led. Someone to talk to at some point. When there isn't someone shooting in their direction.

Still monitoring the vitals of the victim for the moment, he turns and positions himself between the others and the guy doing the shooting, the luminous gaze fixed. Standing near to seven feet tall, thanks to the armor's bulk, he makes a pretty decent shield.

Watching, keeping the bulk of himself between the wounded cowboy and the guy still aiming the gun in that direction, he watches for a clean shot. And if not for the girl, he might have one, but she appears to be trying to deal with whoever this maniac is, pulling a knife as she goes to confront him.

Whatever they're saying is lost to him as the redhead goes running off to find help, until the girl calls back to the rest of them. "Is Reap Still alive?"

So the cowboy's name is Reap? Good to know.

With Taneth applying pressure, Alain stays between the fight and Taneth. Still crouching near them, but his finger's curled around the trigger, just in case. "Yeah, but he's hurt bad!" he calls over to the girl. "He needs help, fast!"

Continued in next post.

Continued from previous post.

The dragon, Icer, is moving their way as the girl snarls at Gage, her knuckles whitening with her grip on the knife. "Alain! Can you get him out of here?"

The armored figure hasn't moved yet, save to keep himself between Gage and the others - except for the girl, who seems to have a plan of some kind. Whatever she's planning, it'll have to be fast. He pulls up his power status - more than adequate - before he cuts in the outside comms. "I can get him out of here faster than any of you," he says to Alain, looking slightly over his shoulder.

"Whatever you've got in mind," he says to the armored figure, "do it fast. You know the clinics around here?"

He does. One of the first orders of business in the so-called superhero line of work. As he's turning from the pair talking back and forth, Diana's voice cuts in. "Sir, if you're thinking of flying him out of here..."

The outside comms are cut as he snaps back. "Save it, Di. It's move him and cause a little damage that can be fixed, or he bleeds out and dies, which is a harder condition to repair."

"Point taken, sir."

He doesn't hesitate an instant, just turns and scoops up the cowboy like he's an oversized pillow. "All of them," he answers Alain's question.

"St. John's. I know the doctors there." Standing up and pointing his gun to cover their escape if need be. "Godspeed," he says as he thumbs back the hammer of his gun.

He's about to cycle the thrusters when the little blond screams at him. Taneth, he remembers her as. She'd have no way of knowing it, but he'd turned his room key in to her. "No! Give me back my Reap! I want to spark him!"

Alain looks down at the girl. "Taneth?"

He looks down at her, his head tilting just slightly as he looks at the man's vitals display. It's not holding up so well. "There isn't much time, girl."

She's persistent, though. "Give him back!"

Alain asks the practical question. "What's the spark? If you can do it, if it can help him, please do it fast."

He's not letting the guy go, not just yet - if whatever this 'spark' thing is doesn't help, it'll have to be a very fast exit indeed. But he does kneel, bringing the cowboy down to where he can be reached more easily by the girl. "Very fast."

She stands up and presses her hands to Reap and Taneth's "spark" is sparkling and spreading over his wounds. She grows paler and shakier the more she gives, but it's her Reap.

"Jesus ****ing Christ," ::Alain murmurs aloud, as he looks at the light spreading from Taneth's hands. Then back at PJ, who seems to be surrendering her weapon. He doesn't lower his gun just yet.

At the same time, he cuts external comms again. "Di, are ya gettin' this?" That hint of southern twang creeps back into his voice as the energy readings scroll across his display.

The female voice that answers is more clinical. "Indeed, sir. I am gathering comprehensive data for further analysis."

He doesn't say anything else, watching as the man stabilizes. And when he steadies enough, Taneth drops back gasping, clearly tired.

As soon as he had seen it working, he very gently lowers the body on the ground, surpassingly careful to not disturb the girl as she does whatever it is. By the time it's done he's standing again, this time unladen. "Fascinating."

And he means it.

Diana's voice chimes in, unheard by anyone outside the covered features. "Fascinating indeed, sir."

And then he's turning, the gaze finding and fixing on...the pair? The girl and the assaulter, both standing close? Now Alain isn't the only confused one.

The pair of them are talking in low, deadly tones, anger and hate from both in equal amounts. As they get more heated, the punk raises his gun and fires in their direction.

He has just enough time to hope he'd gotten it right before the .357 magnum bullet smacks into his torso just left of the solar plexus.

The multilayer leafing system, combined with the nanomolecular makeup of the armor itself - not exactly like a metal, or a ceramic, or an elastic, but an impossible-seeming conglomerate of the three - works perfectly. The bullet's kinetic energy is first absorbed, then transferred, and finally converted by the suit into power that is stored in the internal cells that are part of the silvery, skeletal frame beneath.

He raises a gauntleted hand, the directed pulse generator surging to life with an upward-cycling whine and a flare of white light, just as Alain is raising his gun to point at the same moment.

And both swear in the same moment, though Alain wouldn't hear his growling curse beneath the covered features. Neither of them, it seems, has a clear shot.

Alain's voice cuts into his thought as he searches again for possibilities. "Come on. We've got to get him inside and upstairs. I think I've managed to convince a good doctor to come here and treat him, keep it off the Watch's books, if we can't find another healer. Icer, make sure Taneth gets inside."

As Alain grabs one end of the cowboy, he nods and gets the other, putting himself between Gage and Reap as the two of them carry the man into the Inn. Once inside, he relaxes, despite being the only black-and-silver armored figure in the place. The only sounds he makes are the faint whine of servos as he helps Alain hauls the man up to a room and lay him on the bed, and once the doctor arrives, he steps out to give them room.

It's time to go, he knows. A more successful field test he couldn't have asked for, and there's plenty of data to sift through. Alain's voice cuts into his thoughts first, though.

"Thank you. I don't know if you even know this man, but you really put yourself on the line for him."

It's been a while since anyone said thanks for something so simple. Hell, he hadn't done all that much, nor had he risked...well, okay, strictly speaking, not true. But this man doesn't know that.

Rather than not say anything, he takes a stab at being a scripted superhero, something he's probably going to laugh at himself for later.

"A good man once said we can't stand by while others are being hurt. No matter who they are." And without another word, moments later, he's arcing over the skies of Rhy'din, heading home.

Laughing at himself.

"Sir, I have something you should look at. As you were leaving the area of the Inn the other night, following your 'field test,' I managed to pick up and record a bit of the remaining confrontation. It seems that things were not completely over when we departed."

He's working in an alcove, looking over an earlier model of his armor thoughtfully. A wireframe hovers over it, and as the golden holographic girl watches he makes a subtle alteration to the helmet area before he speaks. "Yeah? What's so important about it? As I understand it the punk let the girl go shortly after that." As he speaks he 'pulls' the wireframe away from the alcove and out into the open and, with a gesture, starts it spinning slowly. Another gesture removes pieces of the torso, the arms, the legs.

"Yes, sir. That's not what I'm referring to. I thought you should take a look at one of the parties that became involved as we were departing."

That gets his attention, and he turns to the construct, finally, arching an eyebrow. "Huh. All right. Show me."

The girl turns to the wall next to the recessed alcove and projects the feed on it.

The feed shows the alleyway from an angle that seems to be moving away and up, a little shaky from the turbulence that the pulse generators create but still keeping fairly steady. He can see the girl held hostage - by her own choice, as he remembers, but the kid had let her go for some reason - and another girl confronting the pair. As it gets more distant, the camera pans up just slightly - just in time to see a lone, human figure dropping from the skies into the shadows of the alleyway.

There it freezes. For a long moment he stands there, his hand rubbing at his chin, thoughtful.

"Your thoughts, sir?"

Right. She knows damn well. "I'm thinking of the report of the drunk guy that just happened to show up in that alley right in time to help distract that kid. Remember that? They said he kinda just came out of nowhere, then disappeared into the Inn?"

He swears he hears a hint of smugness in her tone. "Yes, sir. You think this flying figure is connected to that?"

"Diana, quit playing stupid."

The projection disappears from the wall and the holographic girl appears again, her perfectly proportioned figure again displayed prettily by her businesslike pose.

"My apologies, sir."

He waves it off, thinking again. This time of other things he had heard, little things, disconnected whispers.

Or maybe they only seemed to be disconnected, random. Maybe the 'random acts' were really the acts of the same person.

"Diana, correlate the collected audio files of our nights out on patrol. Focus on WestEnd files especially. See if you can pick up a pattern for...a good Samaritan, a stranger helping out...anyone talking about someone showing up at a trouble spot at just the right time and then just disappearing afterwards...you get my meaning?"

The holographic construct nods. "I believe I do, sir. And how would you like this pattern displayed?"

He turns back to the wireframe, knowing it's going to take her a bit to go through all the audio files. "Recorded position on a map of Rhy'din. If you have any positioning data for where the events took place, put that up as well and connect it to the position it was recorded at."

The holographic girl blinks. "Yes, sir. Searching records now."

The process takes her thirty minutes - practically an eternity in her terms, as he'd designed the semi-autonomous AI to run at 480 teraflops. There must be more data there than he realized, but he's glad for that now.

In that time he's wrapping up the changes - mainly cosmetic and a few that are more functional in their application - and just as he's saving them the feminine voice cuts into his thoughts. "Sir, the data compilation is complete. Displaying now."

He turns as the map flickers into life before him. Pinpoints of light, blue and red, begin overlaying themselves on the map. Lines connect the reds to the blues, some red lights connecting to multiple blue points. "The red lights are recorded listings. Blue lights are possible location data for the recorded listings."

He looks it over, stormy blue-grey eyes thoughtful. "Remove the location data which has an accuracy probability of...less than 75%." About a third of the blue lights vanish. "Drop the recorded listings from the Inn, Teas'n'Tomes, Star's End. Keep their location data." Lights wink out in places, then reappear in others, though fewer, and he takes a step back. "Include the new data. Extrapolate a flight trajectory for me based on his arrival and our departure path."

Stepping up to the map, he 'grabs' it and turns it so that it lays flat, a 3-dimensional projection of Rhy'din that now shows two arcs - one leading northeast, silver, the other gold...leading from WestEnd, near the center and towards the eastern side of it. "Check records from that night, Diana."

The response comes back almost immediately. "Yes, sir. According to my records there was a fire at that location that night. Witnesses and medical personnel stated they saw a man haul a guy three times his size out of the fire by leaping through the window with the guy over his shoulders, and disappeared shortly after."

He nods, a smile on his lips as he processes all this information. Finally, he turns away, waving off the displays except the wireframe he was working on. "All right. Prep the Mark III armor for later tonight and we'll see if we can make ourselves an appointment."

(Adapted from live RP.)

It had all been going so well.

A red-hot redhead, maybe a couple drinks, and there was the possibility of an actual date.

But no.

Someone has to go and screw it all up.

He'd seen the kid - despite knowing he's dealing with a vampire, he has a hard time thinking of him as anything other than a kid, thanks to his appearance - as he was walking up, and had hoped - fervently - that maybe he was just scoping the place, that there wouldn't be any trouble. He'd even gotten a good ways into a flirtatious conversation with the lovely red-haired lady before he got an inkling that things were going south.

The vampire leveling the gun at the girl that had gone to confront him is what decides him.

Giving the girl a swift apology and a rather impulsive kiss on the cheek, he slips into the shadows, triggering the suit as soon as he reaches their cover.

He'd taken the time to perform a bit of fine-tuning after the other night, and this time the process is faster, the deployment time shaved off by two seconds. As the HUD comes online, he hears the synthesized female voice in his ear. "Ready and monitoring, sir."

He makes no reply, all business now as he arches his back, pointing his palms down. A swift command is processed and a moment later the dark, armored figure is airborne.

Reaching the apex of his flight, he hears the young man that had come out to help the girl speak up. "Don't worry about it, luv. He doesn't have the guts to stare someone down for a fair fight."

He grins behind his helmet's face, approving. Brave words, son, even more because they're true.

The vampire reacts by sending his bike flying at the diminutive blond - Taneth, he registers her name as - missing her by inches. Flying past the girl, the bike's trajectory and speed seems to be sure to carry it into the Inn through the wall...

...until, without warning, out of the sky itself, drops a large, black-and-silver mass that lands on the road right in front of the path the bike is taking with the sound of metal meeting rock, revealing itself to be a crouching figure of a man clad in armor, silver and black, silvery-blue triangles of lights marking its eyes. As it gets to its feet, facing the flying motorcycle, one hand raises, palm out, a pulsing, brilliant point of light at its center, leveled at the bike. There's a sudden, upward cycling whine as that light brightens just before he lets loose a blast of kinetic energy at the hurtling mass.

The result is instantaneous - the bike crumples as though it's been punched in midair, sheer momentum keeping it flying towards him. Rather than ducking it he turns and, bringing both arms up, catches it just at it is about to impact his chest. The weight of impact knocks the breath from his lungs for a moment, making him grunt under the mask and making him fall back a step as he absorbs the weight and kinetic energy, the suit's inertial dampers working overtime just as the system converts the absorbed combined energies to power for the suit itself. "Hey, punk!" he shouts before stepping into a spin, whirling once before letting the hot mass of metal, rubber and plastic fly back at the vampire. "CATCH!"

Even as the mass of metal, rubber and plastic goes hurtling his way, though, the vampire is already moving with unbelievable speed. Out of the way and behind the girl that he'd been having the shouting match with, the barrel of his gun presses into the back of the girl's neck. Even over the crash of the kid's motorcycle returning to earth, his audio sensors pick up the distinctive click of a hammer being thumbed back.

Under the mask, he curses. His HUD zooms in on the pair, trying for targeting options that will enable him to hit the vampire without harming the girl. Too far away from anything standing he can use against him, and covering himself in such a way with the girl's body that there is no clean shot...

Didn't we play this game the other night?

He moves in closer, stepping subtly to one side as he does, trying for a clearer shot. Powering up the pulse blasters in his palms, he tries for a warning, even though he knows it's most likely going to be ignored. "Let the girl go."

The girl makes his demand an impossibility by her next move - the knife in her hand is flipped around and stabbed backwards into the kid holding her. He watches as the vampire, rather than try to get out of the way of this painful-looking impalement, instead pulls the girl closer as he leans into the pigsticker and wraps his gun arm around her, the barrel of the pistol jammed now up under her chin.

One arm comes up and levels, the point of light brightening with a sudden up-cycling whine into a pulsing point of white brilliance, just waiting for the smallest of openings. He doesn't realize the external communications are active as he speaks softly to himself.

"Twitch. Just a little. Please."

The vampire starts backing away, dragging his prisoner with him. He knows the look on the kid's face - weighing options, looking for moves. Steadily, he keeps pace, listening as the girl tries to talk the vampire down, tries to smooth the situation over.

Cutting the external comms, he addresses his AI. "Diana, any suggestions?"

"No, sir. He is remarkably fast, efficient, and most likely psychotic. He is too far from any significant structures to use the terrain against him. It might simply be best to incapacitate both of them for the moment."

No sooner has the AI finished that statement than it all starts going to hell at once.

He's vaguely aware of the young man that had come out of the Inn - Jono, the elfess had called him - thumbing the hammer back on his own gun as he faces off with the vampire. In the same moment the vampire opens a mouth full of teeth that vaguely reminds the man under the armor of a shark and bites into the girl's neck.

As the blood begins to flow, he curses under the mask. A split-second decision is made as he accesses the suit's systems and switches the energy output from kinetic to electrical. The whine suddenly cycles up out of hearing range as the armored figure opens its palm wide and lets loose a shock of electrical energy this time strong enough to knock out a mid-sized bear.

It couldn't have been timed better - in that same instant the girl screams, yanking her knife free of the vampire and twisting in his grasp to hack at him with the blade, just as the vampire is pushing her away from him. No sooner has the pair parted than the sizzling electrical bolt whizzes in and connects directly with the berserk bloodsucker's torso.

Caught unawares, the bolt's energy lifts the vampire up off his feet and sends him flying into the alleyway. The crash of a body meeting metal is heard as he connects with the same dumpster the cowboy had encountered the night before.

(Continued in next post.)

(Continued from previous post)

Any other night, he might be interested in pursuit. Right now, though, there are other considerations - like wounded. Moving towards the elf and Jono, he charges his palm pulse blasters, the up-cycling whine sounding again as he watches the alleyway for a moment.

"How bad are you hurt?"

Jono - apparently this one's boyfriend, or at the least someone who likes her very much- glares at him, snarling, "Go fucking kill that bastard! I've got her!"

Ordinarily, that statement might have gotten a rather heated reply - he's not much for killing - but for the undead, he's not sure the same rules apply. Regardless, it might be a good idea to see if the vampire is at least incapacitated. Turning towards the alley, he switches to night vision and starts for the alleyway.

No sooner has he taken two steps than he hears the sound of laughter echoing from the dark alley. "Yes. Come fucking kill me!" He catches sight of the vampire just as he leaps in a football spear move, aiming for the armored man's torso.

Well, this isn't going to be like the other night, that's for sure. With that same sound of metal colliding with stone he's lifted off its feet and carried by the vampire into the street, the pair landing on the stones with a crash and a showering of sparks.

Fortunately, it's not the first time someone's tried this on him, and his reaction is instinctive - pulling his knees up to his chest, his boots find purchase on the kid's midsection, and putting the nanomolecular musculature concealed beneath the armored plates to work, he kicks up hard.

It's a simple maneuver that works exceedingly well on an unsuspecting opponent, and this time is no exception. The vampire goes flying up, and at the same moment he uses his momentum and his legs rising into the air to roll backwards, his gauntleted hands catching the street's surface. A pulse from the ports in his hands and feet as he pushes up out of the roll and without effort he's upright and standing. "Really? Is that all you've got?"

Apparently not: whatever else the kid may be, he's good, fast and adaptive. He's no sooner looking up to find his quarry than he hears the thundering reports of that hand cannon he's toting around coming from above.

The first two catch him in the chest and shoulder. As before, the multilayered monomolecular leaf plates absorb and convert the kinetic energy from the impacts - even so, it feels to him as if he has been kicked by a small pony.

Which makes it all the worse when one of those impacts smacks into the top of his head.

Even with the armor's impact-absorbing capabilities, it feels like someone just clocked him with a hammer. By sheer luck, the same impact cuts the power to his HUD as he drops to his knees.

It doesn't take long for the suit's nanite repair functions to reroute power and reboot the HUD system, but still, that gets his attention. Something to note for later...

"Diana, where is he?"

"There is a vehicle behind you, eight meters away. He's hiding behind the door, about to fire his gun at you again."

Perfect.

"Reconfigure the pulse blasters for a charged kinetic particle burst."

"Sir, are you going to..."

"They can bill me."

Her response is lost as another thunderous report announces the arrival of a bullet that smacks into his shoulder.

"All right, that's enough."

Looking over his shoulder, his HUD outlines his target. Turning as he gets to his feet, he raises his arm, the pulsing point of light appearing in his palm with that familiar up-cycling whine an instant before a blast of energy is let loose. Kinetically charged particles follow the path of energy, surging into the ground beneath the vehicle. The sudden change in temperature vaporizes the rock beneath the car, the expanding gases exploding upwards and sending molten chunks of rock and earth upward to pierce the gas tank. The resulting explosion flips the car high up into the air as the ball of flame blooms like a deadly flower around the vampire.

The next instant the kid is charging out of the fire, holding onto that car door like a Spartan wielding his shield. For a berserk psycho vampire, he thinks to himself, the kid's pretty damn impressive.

Raising his other arm as the kid comes charging in, he sends out another blast of kinetic energy at the vampire's chest. Moving almost too fast to follow, the vampire swats the blast aside with his improvised shield and, an instant later, swings the shield back in sideways as he closes to melee distance.

The breath is driven from his lungs in a sudden whoosh as he grunts, flying through the air towards the alley the vampire had speared him from. there's just enough time for that realization to begin dawning before he crashes into something solid with a sound that vaguely reminds him of a train wreck and the world goes black.

Not knocked out, though he's going to be feeling this in the morning. It takes a few moments for the suit to - once again - reboot itself, and as the HUD comes back up he makes a mental note to check the shockproofing of the systems.

All right, this is getting ridiculous. "Diana, where is he?"

"It would appear he's attempting to make Taneth his next meal, sir. Might I recommend a ballistic approach to the situation?

He nods, getting to his feet. "Let's do it."

Feet together, head up, hands down and out. The thrusters fire, throwing the armored figure into the air above the Inn. At the apex of his flight, he looks down...calculating his landing place...a quick orientation burst as gravity tugs him down...

...and an instant later he's landed behind the vampire as he's about to try taking a bite of the blond. Reaching out, he casually taps the bloodsucker on his shoulder just as someone else is opening the front door, drawing the kid's attention.

"Hey. Brando."

The vampire has just enough time to begin turning his head before the armored boot comes in from the side with enough strength behind it to splinter the ribs of the average human.

Not, apparently, enough to stop the vampire, who takes Taneth with him as he's knocked sideways by the force of it. As the kid spots his attackers, however, he appears to have second thoughts - pushing Taneth at the redhead, he takes off into the Inn. Several shots can be heard from within, and by the time he gets to the door there's neither hide nor hair of the vampire.

"Damn."

Turning, he takes a look over the redhead and Taneth.

By the time someone thinks to check and see if he's still there, he's not anymore.

(The following is taken and modified from live RP.)

He's glad he'd thought to take the precaution of linking the suit's automatic triggers to his myriad sensors and listening devices - it's what saves his life.

Audio sensors, coupled with a high-frequency pulse generator-receiver, have been activated within a half mile of his location at all times, essentially mapping the environment around him in real-time. As with the audio sensors, the translated images are relayed back to the central server, creating a three-dimensional ultrasonic map of every public are within a half mile.

So when the bullet exits of the barrel of the gun outside the Inn, the sensors - already programmed to watch for events of this type - automatically send an alert to the activation triggers of the suit.

What comes next seems to be as much a surprise to him as to everyone else - even as the bullet is entering the Inn it looks as if the coat has suddenly turned inside out and whipped around him in a fury of black strips and silver unfolding metallic framework. His head and torso are covered in an eyeblink, the arms only seconds later, until what stands in his place is a figure that looks as if he's made of some hardened, black mass of artificial muscle, save for the silver wrappings that peek through in places, and the faceplate made of the same reflective steely material.

The bullet smacks into his head, making it snap back as if he's just been swatted upside the head with a club. Under the helmet it feels as if someone's just thumped his skull with a rubber mallet. "You have got to be f*cking joking." Shaking his head to clear it, he looks towards the front of the Inn. "You couldn't have waited until I was leaving, really?"

The HUD inside his helmet shows him the trajectory the bullet came into the Inn on, and he's no sooner about to move that direction when bullets begin spraying in through the broken window. There's no time to look and see if anyone else is hurt - he has to get outside and fast, try to stop the spray of lead before someone gets seriously hurt. Without another though he's running for the window, bullets bouncing off the armor the whole way, powering through the stream of lead pouring through the window and leaping, giving the thrusters a kick of power to propel him through the shattered window and out into the street.

He lands on the ground outside with the solid, bell-like tone of metal meeting stone, looking around. It's not difficult to spy the source of the automatic fire - it tends to draw attention to itself - and as the second source opens up he's split in two directions. At least the hail is focused on him now, and through the storm of incoming fire he jumps up and the thrusters fire, shoving him into the air above the two sources.

The suit's sensors calculated the trajectory of the sniper's shot and the bullet's speed as it impacted his helmet, highlighting a section of the roof around one of the automatic weapons tracking towards him. As the barrels are coming up, he aims at that point, pointing the a pulse generator in that direction. The whine of the pulse generator powering up is followed immediately by a blast of kinetic energy at the flashes from the gun.

The energy bolt crashes into the rooftop next to the flashes, lighting up the area in a flare of light and exposing the shooter as he goes skidding across the roof's surface towards the alley on the back side. Whatever the man was using to trigger the other weapon must have been destroyed in the impact, because the gunfire from both automatic weapons ceases right away.

Kicking power to the thrusters, he flips up and over to land agilely on the roof the shooter is on. Glowing points of light can be seen in the armored figure's hands now, that subtle whine cycling in the air as he approaches the would-be assassin. "I see Howe's not wasting any time." As the masked figure tries to crawl away, he shakes his head. "Ah ah ah." Walking over to the now-crawling figure, he leans down and grabs a leg, making as if to hoist him into the air.

At that moment the would-be assassin pulls out a pistol-sized crossbow and aims at his midsection, pulling the trigger. The armor stands up fantastically to high-speed ballistic impacts, but the razor-sharp head of the bolt manages at this range to slip between the bands wrapping around his body, which manage to bring it to a stop but not before the head pierces his skin and lodges against a rib. A flesh wound, really, but distracting enough that it makes him lose his grip on the leg.

That was all the sniper needed. Close enough to the edge, he simply rolled back off the roof. With a curse he pulls the bolt out of the armor, moving to the edge of just as his sensors read a sudden energy surge below of unidentifiable origin.

Looking over, he sees nothing. No body, no retreating footsteps...like whoever it was had just vanished.

Another curse escapes him as he turns away, stopping to pick up a clue left behind by the hitman. Even if no one else inside the Inn had noticed the armor deploying automatically in their confusion, it's a safe bet that Howe's going to know in short order.

(The following is taken and modified from live RP.)

He'd been watching the Inn all night. Not in the suit, of course - most of the night he'd just been behind the bar. And it had seemed, for the most part, a normal night. Apparently no one was interested in repeating the violence of the last night, and aside from one stranger - who'd seemed all right at first, just a normal guy stopping by for a drink or two.

But then there was the button, the pin on the man's coat. 'Support Free Labor,' nearly identical to the one left behind in the wake of the assassination. But he didn't get an assassin vibe off this guy - thanks to Kyle (and now, Leo) he's gotten good at picking them out. He hasn't seen a lot of the pins, but then the Agreement only went pubic in the last week. They could be a real supportive measure put out there by someone, and this guy could just have gotten it that way.

Still, he makes a mental note to put Leo on the source of the pins, ostensibly to obtain some for his own workers. Whom they will eventually be given to, of course - after Leo, Kyle, and Ed together examine them to every depth imaginable. Until then, he knows his workers, and they know his regulations.

It's when the guy spots Alain and his female escort that the hairs on his neck raise. The look is one that looks almost like nervous terror...like the face of someone having second thoughts.

It had made up his mind in an instant - skirting around the room, he'd managed to make the stairs before the guy started climbing them, fleet-footedly climbing them and heading towards the room he keeps upstairs. The door is locked and sealed behind him as he walks over to the coffee table and taps a sequence into it before stepping towards the black, modern-looking recliner.

The chair immediately splits apart, sprouting armatures with numerous sections of the Hammer armor on them. The torso section is placed first as he extends his arms, which the armatures wrap in dark bands of the nanofiber musculature material before the armor is layered on in sections, followed a moment later by the legs. The helmet is placed on last, and as the armatures retract back into the chair he turns to the window overlooking the alley, sliding it open and leaping out headfirst. A swift flip in midair brings his legs down and the thrusters in his boots and hands fire, launching him upwards to land on the roof, arcing his trajectory so he lands softly next to the dragon hatch he sees Icer Shimmerscale using so often.

Slipping through the rafters in a suit of armor in complete silence is no mean trick, but thankfully the noise from below masks his approach, and the black anti-searchlight covering over the armor plates ensures that he is nearly invisible in the shadows, save for the silver parts. Careful to stick to the shadows, he moves until he's over the stairs, getting there just as the man is hesitating partway up, looking extremely nervous.

He mutes the external comms, speaking to his AI. "Diana, are you recording?"

The cool female voice comes back. "Always, sir."

"Good. Give me a full spectrum scan of my target." He focuses on the man with his eyes, and an instant later the crosshairs on his HUD flicker into place over him. He watches as the readouts begin to scroll on the left side of the display, his brow furrowing under the mask. From what he can see, the man below him isn't carrying any weapons that his magnetic sensors can pick up. Of course, that doesn't rule out the possibility of something like a knife...or a syringe.

He doesn't want to do anything just yet, though - his sensors are also picking up biosensor readings that don't make sense. After a while of looking at them one can pick out subtle clues as to a subject's emotional state. A professional's readings - such as the woman with DeMuer as well as DeMuer himself - don't flux much, save perhaps a slightly accelerated heartbeat indicating exhilaration, possibly even nervousness.

What he sees on his readout now shows something more akin to fear - accelerated heartbeat, increased perspiration, muscle tremors.

He's learned the value of observation before leaping into a situation, fortunately. To him it's still a sort of game, more fun than work, but he knows that the same doesn't hold true for everyone else, and there's the other fact that not everything is what it seems to be at first.

So he waits, watches as Alain motions to his escort - who has the look and feel of a killer, the comfortable, almost casual manner of ease with death that can't be concealed no matter what disguise she's in - to wait. At least, that's what he guesses, from Alain having his hand behind his back, visible only to the woman.

Who appears, to his eyes, ready to move on the slightest signal.

He can feel the coiled tension in his own muscles as he waits, watching. The display inside his helmet shows a zoomed-in picture of the man below him in the upper corner as he looks up at Alain again, watching as the man stumbles forward, seeming to trip as he reaches behind his back for something.

He almost moves then, actually coming up on his toes, until the man pulls whatever it is from its place and rushes forward at Alain.

It's a tube of paper, he can see easily from his vantage point. Surely not a weapon...perhaps some message...?

From this angle he watches, relaxing again, as the stranger rushes Alain, almost looking like he's trying to tackle the man, and at the last instant DeMuer goes from trying to catch the man from sprawling to twisting out of the way and letting the man fly past to collide face-first into the wall.

He winces under the helmet. Oh, this looks bad. Focusing on the stranger again, he runs a quick scan, breathing a bit easier for a moment when he sees the man is simply unconscious now.

"Diana, I need a playback, start at time index 22:50."

He watches closely to the playback as it streams on his display. Yeah, no doubt. To anyone else watching from another angle, it'll look like the guy tripped and DeMuer shoved him into the wall face-first...but from here he can see the man's arms going for Alain's shoulders, far too coordinated a movement to be just someone catching their balance.

This looks bad, all right. No danger here, but he has an idea that the Baron might want another witness to the event, just in case. Silent and swift, he makes his way out via the hatch, back the way he came.

(The following is taken and adapted from live RP.)

One of these days, he's going to have a normal day.

One where he doesn't feel the need to keep his head on a swivel, even if he doesn't look particularly alert. He'd been aware of being shadowed lately, though by who is still a mystery to him. Whoever they were, they did a good job of going unnoticed, never seen but their presence definitely felt as a palpable thing. Never oppressive, simply...watching. Waiting.

He can feel them out there as he makes his way to the Inn. He's not anything special, really, no psychic powers or any of that garbage - despite some of the things he's seen since coming here, he's not a believer in magic. Everything that anyone can do or is capable of can, in his mind, in some way, be explained by scientific reasoning. Those so-called psychics and magicians, he's found, all seem to be able to control the energies around them with the power of their minds alone, a process which mystifies him but is explainable by physics, science and reasoning.

He's contemplating this, in fact, as he's approaching the Inn. It's the distinctive, metallic sound of a sword being pulled from its sheath that cuts (no pun intended) into his thoughts, and he looks up in time to see the cloaked figure charging towards him, sword drawn and ready for a swing, yelling a single word in an oddly synthetic-sounding voice as it comes. "Slllllice!"

So much for the casual stroll. Without hesitating he's diving out of the way, a surprised "Whoa!" escaping him. One hand slips under the coat to stroke the trigger sensor, and suddenly the dark coat comes alive with whiplike flaps of material snapping out and around him, covering from head to toe as he comes to his feet. The bands of material settle against his skin, the strangely cool, slick-feeling material comfortable despite its snug fit, and then there's a strange illusory sensation of weight spreading across his skin as the SHIELD plates begin unfolding from around his back lightning fast, covering his frame with hardened plates of black and silver. Under the mask the AR display comes alive, and he hears the upcycling whine of power humming through the suit as the plates polarize, ready for action as he turns to face this new attacker.

"Diana."

That one word is all it takes, and he hears the cool, sultry female voice in his ears. "Monitoring, sir."

He looks over his assailant, a slender figure under the cloak, though he can't make out the exact shape or face under it - there seems to be some sort of interference preventing his enhanced sensors from seeing into that darkness beneath the cowl. The long sword it holds has a wicked serrated double-edge designed to rip and tear; to make a damn mess out of anything that was made from soft, succulent flesh. "... It's about time we meet." The voice comes out synthesized, neither male nor female, a computerized hiss. "I've been dying to meet you."

"Really." The voice that comes from under that eerily blank-looking mask has the obviously deadened tone of computer filtering, no accent to speak of, but distinctly male. His right hand balls into a fist and from the back of the gauntlet springs a slender blade with a metallic sound, perhaps two feet long and glowing white-hot, sleek and straight and wickedly sharp-looking. "You might want to rephrase that."

"Ohhhhhh...? Maybe, you will want to eat those words... When I tear that head off from your shoulders, and rip off that mask!!!" The cloaked figure darted forward, bringing up the sword's wicked edge upwards in a long arc from foot to head, looking to give the Dark Ranger a nasty surprise that no man ought to experience. A ball-splitting soon to be head-splitting attack as the blade became littered in glowing, magical runes, causing the blade to vibrate, creating a gentle, low-droned hum.

It might have been enough to cleave an ordinary man in two. Probably more than a few extraordinary men, too. He doesn't move to block, instead leaning back - WAY back, flexing at the knees until most of his body is bent backwards and near parallel to the ground, fast enough that he has to retract the blade to catch himself from falling onto his back. The other hand comes up, and the whine cycles up a second before he releases a powerful blast from the palm-mounted pulse generator at the cloaked figure's chest, simultaneously pushing up and back with his feet to push himself away from the cloaked figure, adding a split-second pulse from the thrusters in his boots to bring him up and around in a flip, landing neatly on his feet in a crouch and looking up just in time to see the cloaked figure go plowing through a wall, the sword it had been swinging clattering to the ground.

Looking up at the hole, he frowns under the mask, zooming in on the darkened hole in the wall. No movement registers there, and he moves forward cautiously, watching that hole. "You have to be kidding."

A part of him is just reflecting that maybe he should have used a lower-power pulse when that hissing, synthesized voice gets picked up by his audio sensors. "It... Works..." A dark, serpentine-synthed laughter screamed from the building, as from within the darkness of that hole, a glowing purple visor came into view.

"I have to say, I had my doubts about this little project but it seems I was entirely wrong. To think, it is only half complete..." The feminine form, wrapped up entirely in a black, skin-tight bodysuit stepped out from the hole she had made. There was no armor present. Just the fabric-underlay it would seem, accompanied by that helm, and its single purple visor. The gas-like nozzle at the front glowed as she spoke, "So tell me, how does it feel, to have inspired this incomplete shell? Oh, don't be too disheartened, it isn't quite complete yet. I just wanted to test out three aspects. And I have to say, so far, two out of three has thus far been met. Please indulge me, in the final experiment, won't you?"

Under the mask, he can feel his jaw drop a little, a mass of confusing thoughts running through his head. That sleek feminine shape is certainly enticing, clad as it is in that bodysuit, but beyond that is the thought that whoever this was had specifically chosen him to model and test their own personal armor out on. That certainly can't bode well...but whoever it is doesn't have his technology. That much he's sure of.

(Continued in next post.)

(Continued from previous post.)

"I have a better idea." Accessing the AR display controls for the suit, he reconfigures the pulse generators to emit a powerful magnetic field, using it to pull the sword on the ground up to his hand and gripping it by the blade, much like one might a throwing knife. "Let's play catch." Bringing his arm back, he flings the sword as hard as he can at the slim figure.

He watches as the sword flips through the air towards the sleek feminine figure and she flips herself up and over the spinning sword that cut right through the building behind her. He has to admit he's impressed by the move, almost as much as her charging figure as she landed upon her feet and runs towards him, her fists balled up.

Even as she's charging forward, so is he, not content to wait for her to get to him but ready to meet her head-on. Her fist manages to connect with the right side of his face, and with that kind of force it knocks him off of his feet, though there doesn't seem to be much of a dent made in the armor - to her it might be akin to hitting a solid wall of titanium, save for a small amount of give.

Under the helmet, he feels that impact like someone hit him in the jaw with a rubber mallet. Christ, she hits like a ton of bricks!

Despite the seeming bulkiness of the suit he twists agilely in the air, the thrusters built into his boots firing and flinging him upwards before he flips over again, head-first to his assailant, fists extended and rocketing towards her at almost supersonic speed...only to see her twisting to the side at the last moment. the next thing he feels is the elbow smashing into his spine, followed by the pavement as it rushes up to meet him face-first. A sudden screech of metal scraping stone fills his ears as his whole body is violently jarred from the impact with the earth.

Oh, that's going to hurt later.

Cutting the comms to the outside, he groans as he starts pushing himself to his feet. "Diana, any suggestions?"

The feminine voice of his AI speaks coolly into his ears, unflappable as always. "Actually, sir, it would appear that her suit is not flight capable. You may be able to escape by..."

Under the mask he grins, cutting her off before she can finish the sentence. "Not looking to escape, Di." Reaching out, he gets a grip on the feminine figure's leg and pulls hard, sweeping her off her feet, just as he's gaining his own. "Hope you're not afraid of heights." Pushing up, he fires the thrusters again to push them off the ground and into the air.

He doesn't take them very far, maybe about forty feet into the air, but it only takes a matter of seconds, and once they reach the appropriate height he pulls her up as he cuts power to the thrusters, swinging her up so she's even with his torso. Letting go of her leg, he drives a pummeling fist towards her midsection to send her flying back towards the ground, shouting after her as he cuts on the thrusters to hover. "Happy landings!"

The visor flashed purple before the fist was sent into her mid-section. She hurtled towards the ground, her body completely incapable of escaping her downward spiral. The whistle of her body only grew as she came closer to the ground, and with an almighty BOOM, the ground below her impacted and became quite the inverted dome of destruction, her body even becoming partially embedded into the earth itself. A contorted, broken wrist was all that sprouted from the rubble, fingers broken and contorted in all kinds of angles.

Cutting power to the thrusters again, he lets gravity take over and falls to the earth, allowing himself a momentary braking thrust to slow the impact so as not to create another crater. As soon as he's on the ground the armored figure walks cautiously over to the place where the body is embedded into the earth, the glowing optic sensors looking over the destruction. "Looks like you missed a step."

Leaning over the wreckage, he's reaching into the rubble to pull the visor away when the figure move, bones seeming to instantly reset into place with a series of sickening crackling sounds as she begins to extricate herself from the rubble, grabbing his right arm to pull herself up, the visor cracked, but still intact, and glowing. "... Or two."

He starts to recoil as the other pulls herself from the wreckage of the crater, only stopped by the grip on his arm. The whine of the pulse generator in the palm of the hand on the arm not being held can be heard, that hand coming up automatically and aimed at her chest, a pulsing, glowing circle of brilliant light that can be seen there.

Still, he pauses for a moment, curiosity getting the better of him for a moment. It's weird, very weird, to find himself attracted to and intrigued by someone trying so hard to put an end to him, but there it is. The skintight bodysuit isn't helping matters with her so close. "Who the hell are you?"

The serpentine-chuckle is twisted and distorted by the synthesizer, the visor cracking further as the helm had become drastically damaged from the fall. "... Someone, who is very much in love with you. You, that suit... That brain..." The visor turns to the woman who's been watching from the sidelines, whom he'd seen but mostly ignored. "Shut up, old bat. Go dribble in a corner somewhere..." The visor turned back to Dark Ranger, "And now I have you, exactly," the fingers curled tighter around his arm, as an array of pulsing electrical circuit-like patterns spread across her black-fabric suit.The AR display flickers, dims, brightens again, and he hears Diana speaking in his ears, her cool voice seeming out of place with the sudden alarm he feels at her words. "Sir, the power is being drained from your suit."

His gaze snaps down at his arm, her hand, making the connection right away. Fortunately there's a lot of power, and he has extensive reserves. The whine cycles up out of hearing range as he overcharges the pulse generator and fires a charged particle burst at her chest from close range.

It's not enough to knock her away, even if she does stumble and rock back from the impact, but not letting go. Pulling up the power reserve monitor, he sees the reading dropping fast, just as Diana speaks in his ear again.

"We have another problem, sir. However she is draining power, she is also attempting to use the same connection to access the suit's systems."

He barely has time to register that before her hand comes up to press against his chest. "Taste your own medicine..." And then the energy from the particle burst smacks him full force in the torso.

There's a surprised-sounding grunt that escapes him as he's rocked back by that shot, making him fall back a step. The arm being gripped twists in her grasp as his hand comes around to lock its own grip on the feminine figure's arm, and that single step back is turned into a twisting motion as he pulls hard to fling her away over his shoulder, sending her flying headlong into another wall. At the last second she manages to flip around to land on her feet, skidding along to put her back to the wall.

"Hurt me more!" She cackled, her arms out wide. "Come on... Give me a good reason not to use your powers against you..." She lifted her fists close to her face, sparks arcing between fingers and helm. "... Give me more!"

"Diana, check all systems. Find out what she was doing besides trying to drain power from the suit." As the AI is busying itself with that, he catches a hint of their audience watching from the porch, her voice cutting across his thoughts. "My, but your little girlfriend seems a bit masochistic."

Girlfriend? Not hardly, though I wouldn't mind getting to know who it is under that mask...

(Continued in next post.)

(Continued from previous post.)

He's being a bit more cautious now, not at all eager to close the distance. He doesn't look at the spectator at all, focused on this new threat. "You really shouldn't be out here."

Cutting the comms to the outside, he speaks to the AI. "Talk to me, Diana."

As always she comes back right away, her voice cool and calm. "It would seem that her suit relies on some kind of crystalline technology combined with nanomachinery, which can absorb ambient energy and redirect it. Judging by the damage you've caused her, however, it appears her suit lacks the inertia-negating properties of yours, suggesting that this material and technology she's using is incomplete at best."

He grumbles at the AI under the suit. He can feel blood trickling from a split lip inside the mask, as well as some serious pain from the side of his face that had been smashed into the pavement and a sharp throbbing in the area of his sternum that suggests yet another cracked rib or three. "Great. So you're saying I should pound her to death. Not many ways of doing that without getting close, you know."

His assailant is still up against the wall, which gives him an idea. Configuring the pulse emitters for a low-frequency, high-power resonant sonic pulse, he raises both hands, the pulse generators in his hands not glowing now, but quite suddenly there's a high-pitched whine again, followed by the subtlest distortion of the air as the concussive sonic pulse is delivered to either side of that slender shape, smacking into the wall behind her and making it tremble almost convulsively, a split second before a whole section of it begins to collapse on top of her.

As the rush of air passed her, she turned her head subtly to one side, to gaze behind her at the falling wall that was folding and cracking over the top of her. The powered fabric-suit turned, raising a hand to push a section of the wall aside, while a knee lifted up to smash another into several hundred different kinds of stones and shards. A hand lifted to clench at her chest, as she stumbled over the debris, "Is that all you got? With your power in my veins... I can...AHHHHH!"

Quite suddenly, as he watches, arcing bolts of electricity begin to crackle around and along her body, sending her to stumble down onto her knees. "... W-What, what?" She stood, stumbling forward. "...What-what did... What did you do?! What did you do you bastard?!" She moved a hand out to send a blast of some kind of energy his way, but whatever she was trying to do backfires as more arcing sparks jump between her fingers and surge up her arm, back into her body. Steam rolled out from her, as she swayed back and fore. "... No. No, no... No..."

Well, now, this is certainly interesting. Cutting the outside comms once more, he consults his AI. "Diana? What's happening to her?"

"It would appear she's experiencing an overload of her suit's circuitry. Without knowing how the suit operates it is impossible to say, but it would seem she does not have your energy management systems or storage capacity."

He cuts the outside comms back on, unable to hide his amusement. This is what fools get for rushing in. "Did you hold onto something maybe a little too long?" Despite the computer filtering overlaying the voice, there's a clear tone of amusement that can be heard through it.

"...How dare you mock me, how dare you- ah-" She coiled onto the ground, her fingers clawing at the cobbled stone. "Daughters... No- HOWE!" She screamed, "Goddamit... You fat bastard..." As he watches the visor turns red, her body rocking with her pain, as she stands. "HOWE! Please..." Despite the synthesized voice, he can hear the pain she's in, the torment. Electricity arcing through your body is never fun - he can attest to that. Her synthesized voice turned, dark, low, losing the hissing quality to become growling, almost comically so. "I will kill you. I will have your power." He watches as the visor goes blank and she falls down onto her knees, and then down onto the ground.

Howe. I ought to have known. Yet another of his little stooges.

The armored figure watches this, making no outward display of emotion as he steps closer. "Not today, you won't." Measured steps bring him closer to the inert form. "Next time, you should..."

And out of nowhere the fat man appears, less than a foot away from the woman laying on the ground. Beady eyes roam over those gathered, pause on Aunty M and he obviously pales. For a moment he seems frozen in place. Then, as if coming back to himself, he turns and kneels beside the woman on the street. "What the fu... How in the hell..." He can't seem to finish his sentences today. He reaches out to gather the woman up into his arms.

Whatever he was going to say, be it glib or otherwise, comes to a halt as the short fat man appears next to the feminine form and picks her up. "Maybe you should figure out who it is you're f*cking with before you come after them."

"Oh, hell you don't!" He'd almost forgotten about the portly woman on the porch as she suddenly surges off of it and heads directly for Howe. "Get your hands off her, you dog! She's with that guy!" she screams at the man, pointing a figure back the Ranger's way. "And you think I am gonna stand here and let you... what? Rescue her?! Give her to him, give her to HIM NOW!

He can see the feminine shape moving in the fat man's arms, albeit weakly, and for some reason he feels an irrational surge of relief. He squashes it before it can become anything more...lest we forget, she just stated her intent to kill him.

Howe looks from the woman addressing him to the one she's calling Robot Man and sneers at the pair of them. "Back the f*ck off, NOW!"

One of those palms comes up to point at Howe, blazing with held energy as that whining can be heard again, the helmed head bowing slightly, taking on a menacing posture. Not that he's pissed or anything, save perhaps a smidge. Yet another of Howe's agents, coming after him, and she'd almost been killed for it. He's not sure whose idea the suit was, but it wouldn't surprise him in the least to find out that it was Howe who'd rushed and pushed whoever it was inside it to try, even if it wasn't ready for the task it was built for yet. "You should watch who you're talking to that way."

The woman - who clearly knows Howe - looks like she's about to wind up for another go at him as she starts to speak. "You better give that woman over Howe, or I am gonna..."

Howe cuts her off. "Shut up, M!" Cradling the woman close to him, he nods down to her. "Yes, we'll take care of...ah? Later, sweetheart. In a flicker of dark imploding on light, the pair are simply gone.

The woman left behind turns to him and starts screaming at him. "What just happened?! He just took off with your girlfriend! You let him take off with your girlfriend! Get them back!"

He looks at her, an eyebrow arching under the mask And just how do you want me to do that? I don't even know where they went, let alone how they did...that. Waving her away, he can feel the fight taking its toll, and he sighs under the mask. "Let him go. And he can take his little toy with him."

"What do you mean let them go? Are you crazy!???" That was my dog!!!!" She looks pissed, glaring at him as she looks him over, growling audibly at him before she spins on a heel and stalks away, presumably to find Howe and whoever it was he 'rescued.'

He watches her go, shaking his head as he speaks half to himself. "Not my girlfriend, lady."

He can feel the adrenaline wearing off, and knows it's time to go. As he puts power to his thrusters he talks to the AI. "Diana, I'm on my way home. Advise Kyle of the situation and have him meet me at the manor."

(The following is taken and adapted from live RP.)

There are any number of varieties to get where you're going, but he still likes flying the best. For now, though, it's the end of the patrol, time to put the toys away and pretend to be just like any normal human being. From the skies he drops, a black armored figure accented by pure silver in places, the distinctive whining roar of thrusters heard as he drops towards the roof of the Red Dragon Inn, a hard blast from them turning the whining roar into a screech just before it cuts to silence and he drops onto the top of the building with an easily audible thud next to the secret hatch into his room below.

And just as he's about to tap the latch to open it, Diana's voice murmurs in his ear. "Sir, it would appear you have company again."

At first, he'd thought the occasional blip that had popped up on his sensors was just a ghost, a false reading, and had Diana run a diagnostic on the system. Or rather, had attempted to, at which point Diana had coolly reminded him that she did not suffer from 'glitches.'

Whoever it was had been following him from the ground as he patrolled in the air, and maintaining a lock had been impossible - in fact he had only picked it up a few times per patrol for the past three or four times he'd been out, just enough to convince him that it's not some kind of odd coincidence.

He's being followed. The who doesn't matter to him, so much, as the why. He's pretty sure he knows the who of it, anyway.

So he isn't too surprised at the appearance of the feminine figure on the rooftop with him, simply turning to regard her with blue-white glowing optic sensors. The distinctive upcycling whine of the palm-mounted pulse generators charging can be heard as his head tilts slightly to regard her. "You again. I hope you've come better prepared this time."

The serpentine sizzle of her words hissed beyond the visor. "I think you'll find, compared to the last time, my little toy, to be quite... Effective." The lithe physical figure turned to face him side on, the helm inclined downwards, as her hand slowly approached the empty-bladed hilt attached to her well-toned thigh. "... Bring on the new lesson of the day. Teach me some more."

And here he was thinking this was going to be more like a date. It certainly would be the most interesting relationship he's ever had, without a doubt. Under the mask, he uses the AR interface to arm the forearm-mounted launchers, carefully selecting the points he wants each to impact. This won't be like the last time - this suit, while it looks outwardly the same, is meant for more heavy duty work, rather than the emergencies he's been coming across lately; in other words, a suit meant for battle, rather than quick skirmishes.

Time to see what improvements she's made.

"As you wish." And in a blur of motion one of the arms comes up, only instead of opening his palm towards her, it's a closed fist, and from the back of his wrist the launcher deploys and fires four high-explosive microrockets towards the slender figure, two aimed for her chest, the other pair streaking at her feet.

He watches as the purple visor's light flared with a renewed sense of life as the rockets came blasting their way towards her, her hand snatching the hilt from her thigh. The movement activates the retractable, serrated blade that seemed somewhat improved over the last incarnation, sleeker and sharper. Her stance changed, her legs spreading just enough to the point that the rockets aimed at her feet fly right between her legs, while her body arches backwards with an athletic grace, the other pair of dumbfire rockets hurtling over her just inches from her suit's synthetic, blackened skin. In the same moment she whirls the blade in a circular motion behind her, as the rockets past beyond harmlessly, slicing all four into two neat chunks, that arched and bounced away in all kinds of directions before exploding.

Straightening her posture, drawing the blade up so that it was horizontal across her visor's sight, the female figure regards him, speaking in that computer-filtered, hissing voice. "... Sserious, aren't we? Ssoo soon?"

"Impressive." And he means it, though with the computer filtering his voice it's hard to make out the sincerity in his tone. The launcher retracts again, and he moves from his stance, circling, keeping his sight trained on her, his palm opening to reveal the pulsating point of brilliant light in the center, the high-pitched whine it gives out nearly beyond human hearing range. "Just a test. If you want serious, we could always go for a ride," he says with a hint of amusement, motioning upwards with his head.

There's a hissing sound like a laugh as she moves, staying opposite him in that stalking circle. "The same old trick a second time? Try it, my love... We all have our tricks and tweaks... Isn't it thisss like a game of chessss?" The chuckle came as she slowly lifts her empty outstretched palm towards him. "Take me to heaven, again, baby."

He has to admit - at least to himself - that it's tempting, and for more reasons than the desire to watch her crash back into the earth and create another crater. This lithe female figure has him intrigued, without a doubt, and not just because of her sleek figure or the suit she's wearing.

Still, he remembers the last time they had been that close, and he's not one to simply give her what she wants. He's not really partial to people trying to hack his toys, and definitely not the suit. Accessing the pulse generator controls, he configures the armed one for an EMP burst, at the same time moving a little closer in that slow, circling pace, his palm still opened towards her.

(Continued in next post.)

(Continued from previous post.)

"Tempting. But I'm in a mood to experiment." The light shines brighter in his palm for a moment, the whine cycling up beyond hearing range as he sets it to overcharge, an instant later flaring brightly as he releases the omnidirectional EMP burst, strong enough to knock out anything electronic that is unshielded against it within a two mile range.

"Sssounds sexy, my dear..." Her words were cut short, however as the electromagnetic pulse washed over her body, and subsequently her hand. Within moments, her suit flared into life, the outlined circuit-like lines pulsing with a strange blue light. But that too all but died away, as, without warning the purple visor of her helm became a pitch, dark black, as if deactivating.

He feels a moment of triumph as she stumbles forward a step, until the visor returns to its familiar purple glow. The circuit-like lines along her suit resume their odd glowing powered-up shade as she bolted forward, her hand outstretched towards his own.

Damn. Well, that's one more thing I've found out.

He doesn't even bother to get his hand out of her reach - in fact, as soon as she's grabbed it he twists his wrist and closes his open hand around her wrist, pivoting at the waist, using her momentum against her as he pulls hard, stepping to the side. There's a soft whining sound as the musculature of the suit works overtime, putting significant force behind the maneuver, but he doesn't let go as she's passing him - instead he maintains his grip, continuing the turn almost like they're dancing, swiveling in a circular motion to whirl her around, swinging her off of her feet.

He's about halfway through a full circle when Diana's voice pipes up again, her alarming message delivered as always in that cool, unemotional tone. "Sir, she's attempting to access the suit again. I am detecting nanites infiltrating past the outer layer of armor, giving off electromagnetic pulses. It would appear she's trying to shut the suit down from the inside."

which might have worked, if his suit operated off of conventional electronics. Cutting the outside comms, he yells back at her, his voice almost a snarl. "What the hell are you telling me this for? Shut them down!"

Her response goes unheard as quite suddenly he's changing the direction of momentum - from a circular whirling he pivots at the waist so his arm is brought back and she is behind him, then with a vicious yank he hurls her up and over his shoulder, holding on as she's brought up over his head, then down into the roof with enough strength to send her crashing through.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" The movement causes her to scream, the twisted serpentine vocals hushed by her body smashing through the Inn's roof and down into the commons below as she loses her grip. The sound of her crashing through the rafters and the splintering sound of her smashing into furniture below has him moving towards the hole she'd created.

He's just about to look down into that hole when she pops up and her knee impacts his chin, knocking him up and backwards off his feet to land on his back. The optic sensors in the helmet go dark for an instant as he's flying through the air, the safety systems inside the suit tripping to cut off the nanofiber musculature from the power surge to protect him from injury resulting from overpowered movement. The systems reset, his optic sensors and AR display flickering back to life as he skids to a halt at the edge of the roof.

He's just about to try sitting up when suddenly the sleek female shape lands atop him in a straddling stance, the serrated blade coming to press the air between the edge and the Dark Ranger's neck, her helm pushing close to his.

"I was wrong." The visor retracted back into the helm, revealing soft, gentle red colored eyes. He hadn't expected that - despite the sleek, curving lines of the skintight suit, he'd envisioned something harsher, deadlier under that opaque faceplate.

"It's not the technology." The helm continued to retract away from her lips, and then she's touching them, pressing them almost tenderly against the ebon shell of his own helm, right around where his lips would be. "It's the man I really want."

Despite the temptation, he keeps his own helmet closed for the moment. Not to disguise his identity - given their last encounter, she knows whose face it is under the mask - but rather for his own protection. He knows from experience that a moment of weakness can be deadly.

Even with that blade and the extraordinary woman wielding it under that suit she's wearing, there's no fear. There never is - just a simple exhilaration.

Still, he can't resist a touch, despite the fact that she had just tried - again - to get inside his armored skin. One hand comes up, palm open, to press against her torso, right around the area of her solar plexus. Not hard enough to push her away, just pressing there as though to hold her steady, the pulse generator staying dark and silent. As he expected, there's an enticing firmness there that is suggestive of toned muscle, and despite his position - or maybe because of it - he can feel himself becoming slightly aroused, mentally as well as figuratively.

"If that's what you wanted, there are other ways." There's the odd sound of a computer-filtered chuckle from him. "Although I will admit, few that would be as entertaining."

(Concluded in next post.)

(Continued from previous post.)

He can almost feel the muscles relaxing under her armored skin as her blade dips and wavers indecisively, her features still holding that oddly softened expression. "Don't talk so dirty to me, little man." The serpentine wheeze chuckles as the visor and helmet close again, hiding her features from view. It's strange, but there's something almost familiar about them that he can't place. The purple visor glows briefly, as she drew the sword up over her head and with a stabbing motion thrusts the blade into the wood inches away from his head. Pulling it out again as she stands and retracts her sword's blade into the hilt again, he watches as she moves to turn and walk away towards the other end of the roof. "I've grown tired of this game today. Not that the Black Flame is ever tired - but, well, you are my personal...interest."

For a moment he's confused. Why not simply try to end his life right then and there? Unless of course she has other ideas or plans that require him alive, but...still, there's something going on here that he doesn't yet understand.

It might be the Playboy in him that does it, or maybe just his own reckless nature. As she's moving away his legs move with mechanical precision and superhuman speed, lashing out at hers as she's walking away, just before she can get out of their reach, and in the same motion he manages to spin himself right at the edge of the roof and up to his feet with a hard push. The whole movement is so fast that it's nearly a blur, and before she can fall completely he's caught her in his arms, leaning her back.

It's the work of an instant to access the AR controls to retract the bottom part of the mask, revealing the lower half of his face, sliding to either side and out of the way to reveal the grinning lips beneath. Oddly, the voice still comes out filtered, though there's more of a human tone to it now that the mask is out of the way. "Turnabout is fair play, is it not?"

And before she has a chance to react he's touched his own lips to that purple visor, not more than a swift peck to that material that lingers just long enough to be suggestive before he moves again, setting her back on her feet and moving away, the helm already sealing itself again. "It would seem we have a mutual interest." The human tone is gone again now, his steps backward putting him at the edge of the roof, where he pauses, watching the lean, sleek shape before him.

He'd pay a handsome sum to see her face beneath that visor now, but if her body language is anything to judge by, she's very nearly as shaken by his maneuver as he had been by hers, at some level. He watches as a rush of light that reminds him of a blush suffuses her opaque visor as a shaken, lustful breath can be heard even through the hissing, computer-filtered vocal processors. "Mutual interest...a dark interest. A twisted interest...a twisssssted desire to learn more about the other...but, I have the upper hand here, Edward."

Under the mask,. he can't help bu smile. "You know a name and a face. And, just maybe, a few subtle tidbits that everyone else knows." He shrugs, rather cavalierly, pretending a nonchalance that he certainly doesn't feel, with the rush of conflicting emotions running through him. For probably the first time he's glad he has the mask to hide his features for reasons other than protection of his identity. "It's not much of an advantage...but then, I've always enjoyed puzzles." The helmed head tilts, just a little, as he regards her. "There's a lot left of this game to play. But I would like to know just what I should call you."

Her next response gives him a moment of confusion and a hint of doubt to add seasoning to those emotions. "I know a lot more now than I ever did, Edward. Puzzles. I love those..." He watches as she moves to walk away back to her original destination before his sweep-off-of-her-feet attack. "Vindicator. I am the shell of your Vindiction."

For a moment he does no more than stand there, watching as she turns away, and as she takes the first step a hand comes up, palm out, the whine and light of the pulse generator easily discernible. He already knows he won't fire - despite the rather disconcerting violation of his suit he's having far too much fun with this one than he's had in some time. Most of those he confronts don't put up this much of an effort, and they certainly aren't as attractive. "All right, Vindicator. Tell me why I should let you walk away rather than pounding you into the ground."

Her footsteps pause, a hand coming to rest upon her hip as she seemed to contemplate the situation at hand. Then, she turned her hips, and her body just so, so that the purple visor would look back at him, in such a way, it would suggest, just maybe, she was grinning a little cheeky smile underneath that helm. "Because this suit makes my ass look damn sexy."

No one needs to see his face as he lowers his arm, the whine and light dying away, as he shakes his head slightly - his body language practically screams that he definitely agrees. "If you weren't trying to get the better of me..." One can see the visible sigh he breathes as he turns his back to her, his head turned to speak over his shoulder. "...go, before my better judgement reasserts itself."

When he doesn't hear a response, he turns a little more to look...only to find the figure gone while his back was turned. Walking to another side of the roof, he finds the secret hatch he'd been about to open, tapping the trip-switch with his foot, causing it to spring open, letting it fall closed behind him as he drops through into the room below to get out of this suit.

It's been another interesting day.