Mag Flashlight, Engineer, Tank, Inventor, Scientist, pushed the broom across the floor of the entrance lobby of the Legendary's base, picking up a considerable pile of dust and trash on the 48" sweep of his chosen weapon. With a neat flick of the elbow, he cornered around the mahogany and glass of the reception desk, which held Cyberman 8's lithe mechanical figure. Cyberman opened his mouth and started to rise out of his chair, but was interrupted by the tank.
"Yes, Pete, for the tenth time, I prefer to handle this solo. It's kind of a zen thing."
"Well, sure, but what I don't understand is, where does a powered armor engineer, with three PhDs to his name, who superheroes as his day job.. learn how to do janitorial work?"
Mag paused as he rounded the corner between the wall and the base of the Arrival Teleporter. He flicked the corner free of dust, adding a Jujubee wrapper to his growing pile of refuse, and stood leaning casually on the broom handle, which creaked alarmingly.
"It's like this." Mag said, running a hand across his shiny bald head. "I've been fighting against Crey longer than the combined lifespan of that bunch of kids calling themselves Sabers. I've tried hyperphase, stealth, that whole Quickfoot thing, and sheer speed.. Nothing works better than a pair of coveralls that say 'janitorial service' on the back, and a broom. " Mag nodded once, satisfied with his conclusion, and went back to his sweeping.
Pete laughed, shaking his head, and brought up some music to help the two keep awake and alert during this late-night cleanup.
Epilogue:
Stumbling off of the teleporter pad, Evangelia barely stayed vertical as she wavered to the reception desk in the Legendary base. She plopped into the comfy, overbuilt desk chair and curled up, resting her chin on her knees as she waited for the room to stop spinning.
"Miss Eva, If you're crashing from the sugar this badly, perhaps you consumed too much of it?" Came the dry British tones. Eva, without looking, drew her broadsword and held the tip of it at Alistair's throat.
"I'm not that bad off, Alistair. Just.. let me be for a few minutes."
"Hmph! Well, at least you'll have a pleasant surprise once you are able to actually look at your surroundings." Eva put her sword away and sighed, as the sound of flipper feet moved off down the hallway. A minute or two passed, and she raised her head. Brushing the spun gold of her hair back out of her eyes, she glanced around, noting a distinct lack of anything out of the ordinary. Her eyes settled on the only oddity she'd seen, a small vase on the desk with a white (chocolate) rose in it, and a note pinned to it's wire stem.
Fake Epilogue:
Deep within the bowels of the Legendary base, the compressed mass of conductive leftover candy and semiconductive wax paper twitched, spasming as the electric sensation of LIFE crashed across it's newly-formed brain. As it flewed newly-wrought muscle, the information inscribed on the wastepaper that formed much of its being soaked into it's rudimentary consciousness. It flexed, extruding tentacles and pseudopods as it hauled it's misshapen body up the sides of the incinerator that had birthed it. It was time. Time and past time for GREAT CHOCOLATEY FLAVOR to rise upon this world!
Epilogue The Second:
Mag sauntered off the teleporter dias, a cup of coffee in one hand, his habitual cigar clenched in his teeth. Lowering his armored bulk into the reception chair, he pulled the terminal closer and propped up his feet on the desk. Placing his cigar carefully in the ashtray cutout in his armor, he took a drink of coffee and logged in to the Supergroup Personnel And Management system. Scrolling through the notifications, and scanning for urgents, Mag chuckled to himself. Flagging nearly 3/4 of the 'Legendary' as 'Off-Duty: Medical' was something that he hadn't seen since the last major blowout of a party. Bringing up the Coalition Access Network, Mag laughed out loud. Riot Force, Beta Team, and Crossroads all had similar rosters, covered with the pulsing green cross indicating someone medicalled out.
Mag logged out of CAN/SPAM, and crossed his legs on the desk. Taking another swig of coffee, he puffed his cigar back alight and adjusted his air intakes to prevent the smoke from escaping. As slow as today was likely to be, there was no reason to hurry.
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies
"Yes, Pete, for the tenth time, I prefer to handle this solo. It's kind of a zen thing."
"Well, sure, but what I don't understand is, where does a powered armor engineer, with three PhDs to his name, who superheroes as his day job.. learn how to do janitorial work?"
Mag paused as he rounded the corner between the wall and the base of the Arrival Teleporter. He flicked the corner free of dust, adding a Jujubee wrapper to his growing pile of refuse, and stood leaning casually on the broom handle, which creaked alarmingly.
"It's like this." Mag said, running a hand across his shiny bald head. "I've been fighting against Crey longer than the combined lifespan of that bunch of kids calling themselves Sabers. I've tried hyperphase, stealth, that whole Quickfoot thing, and sheer speed.. Nothing works better than a pair of coveralls that say 'janitorial service' on the back, and a broom. " Mag nodded once, satisfied with his conclusion, and went back to his sweeping.
Pete laughed, shaking his head, and brought up some music to help the two keep awake and alert during this late-night cleanup.
Epilogue:
Stumbling off of the teleporter pad, Evangelia barely stayed vertical as she wavered to the reception desk in the Legendary base. She plopped into the comfy, overbuilt desk chair and curled up, resting her chin on her knees as she waited for the room to stop spinning.
"Miss Eva, If you're crashing from the sugar this badly, perhaps you consumed too much of it?" Came the dry British tones. Eva, without looking, drew her broadsword and held the tip of it at Alistair's throat.
"I'm not that bad off, Alistair. Just.. let me be for a few minutes."
"Hmph! Well, at least you'll have a pleasant surprise once you are able to actually look at your surroundings." Eva put her sword away and sighed, as the sound of flipper feet moved off down the hallway. A minute or two passed, and she raised her head. Brushing the spun gold of her hair back out of her eyes, she glanced around, noting a distinct lack of anything out of the ordinary. Her eyes settled on the only oddity she'd seen, a small vase on the desk with a white (chocolate) rose in it, and a note pinned to it's wire stem.
Quote:Boss Lady - One of the benefits of moderation is being able to clean up after those who don't practice it ; ). Pete says I shouldn't rag you that hard, but why miss out on all the fun? PS - 24 bags of mixed candy wrappers and party trash - and I used the big bags. Those leftover tree/plant/monster things don't count as party trash..
Signed,
Mag Flashlight
Cyberman 8
Fake Epilogue:
Deep within the bowels of the Legendary base, the compressed mass of conductive leftover candy and semiconductive wax paper twitched, spasming as the electric sensation of LIFE crashed across it's newly-formed brain. As it flewed newly-wrought muscle, the information inscribed on the wastepaper that formed much of its being soaked into it's rudimentary consciousness. It flexed, extruding tentacles and pseudopods as it hauled it's misshapen body up the sides of the incinerator that had birthed it. It was time. Time and past time for GREAT CHOCOLATEY FLAVOR to rise upon this world!
Epilogue The Second:
Mag sauntered off the teleporter dias, a cup of coffee in one hand, his habitual cigar clenched in his teeth. Lowering his armored bulk into the reception chair, he pulled the terminal closer and propped up his feet on the desk. Placing his cigar carefully in the ashtray cutout in his armor, he took a drink of coffee and logged in to the Supergroup Personnel And Management system. Scrolling through the notifications, and scanning for urgents, Mag chuckled to himself. Flagging nearly 3/4 of the 'Legendary' as 'Off-Duty: Medical' was something that he hadn't seen since the last major blowout of a party. Bringing up the Coalition Access Network, Mag laughed out loud. Riot Force, Beta Team, and Crossroads all had similar rosters, covered with the pulsing green cross indicating someone medicalled out.
Mag logged out of CAN/SPAM, and crossed his legs on the desk. Taking another swig of coffee, he puffed his cigar back alight and adjusted his air intakes to prevent the smoke from escaping. As slow as today was likely to be, there was no reason to hurry.
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies