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For the power scale thing, what if it is logarithmic, with pluses and minuses representing half values? So if A is 10, and AA is 100, then A+ would be 15, and AA- would be 50?
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I think that would scale up a bit too fast. May if it's a doubling at each rank, like the Mayfair DC Superheroes game?
That could look like this: (notr, this me working it out, not necessarily MEGS compliant)
SSS+ (Beyond)
SSS 1024
SSS- 853
SS+ 683
SS 512
SS- 427
S+ 341
S 256
S- 213
AAA+ 171
AAA 128
AAA- 108
AA+ 87
AA 64
AA- 54
A+ 43
A 32
A- 26
B+ 21
B 16
B- 13
C+ 10
C 8
C- 7
D+ 5
D 4
D- 3
E+ 2
E 1
E- .5
F 0
The F is for "You're--"
(flees the worksafe police)
ETA: If you set the minimum for Magic Missile to 4, assuming ti's equal to a normal basic attack spell, that fits nicely with minimum basic grunt troops being D rank - just enough power to fire one, while Imma has to shoot a bunch at once because the minimumpower for it is so much below his channeling level.
Edit 2: Something funky went on down the bottom there, but it makes for a smoother falloff so I'm going to leave it alone
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"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
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Right. Got a few further thoughts on power levels.
1.) Rankings in MSLN are, collectively, a steaming pile of manure. Some of them cover power level, others cover combat ability, and others are unspecified. They're a nightmare to make coherent.
2.) Figured out a way to make them (somewhat) coherent. It starts with Shoot Barret, which is apparently the most basic shooting spell in the Mid system. Single shot, no guidance. We can define E-rank linker core size as "able to cast Shoot Barret", and E-rank mana capacity as "able to cast Shoot Barret without falling unconscious afterwards". If we make SB the unit of measurement, that makes an E-rank linker core a value of 1, and an E-rank mana supply equal to 1+(mana necessary to remain alive and conscious). That last part is a constant, so we can assume it from here on out.
There is another spell- Photon Lancer, Phalanx Shift. It's an AAA-rank spell, and it generates upwards of a hundred guided shots. From this, we can extrapolate that AAA-rank should be (number of shots, 100 or more)*(basic bullet + guidance cost + additional power). With a bit (well, a lot) of fudging, this can give us a target figure.
So if E-rank is 1, AA-rank is, say, 180ish (120 shots, with a 50% added cost for guidance and added power), and going from E to AAA is a 18-rank jump, we can easily do some fiddling with (1 + growth factor)^15 = 180ish. Going with a linear progression, I could just say each full-letter jump is 30, and then fiddle the pluses and minuses. Or, with multipliers, each partial-letter jump is 33.5% above the last, but that just gets awkward.
Maybe something like this? I want S to SS to SSS to be sort of crazy, in comparison to the earlier jumps. SSS is mythical. SS is rare as crap, and S isn't common, but crops up multiple times each generation. A and B-ranks are merely uncommon, C and D-ranks make up most of the population, and E-ranks are common outside the TSAB, but uncommon inside. Most of Earth would be E or E-, fitting with their description of Earth as basically non-magical. Still need to figure out the distribution for the demi-ranks, though. I want moving up a letter to be more substantial than gaining/losing a modifier. Going from A to A+ is notable. Going from A+ to AA- is a sizably bigger deal.
SSS+ ImmeasurableSSS 1920SSS-
SS+
SS 480SS-
S+
S 240S-
AAA+
AAA 180AAA-
AA+
AA 140AA-
A+
A 100A-
B+
B 70B-
C+
C 40C-
D+
D 20D-
E+
E 1
**********
"Aren't you a little young to be bounty hunting?"
I pulled myself up to my full (if limited) height, looking over the desk at the older man seated there, and gave him a glare. "Does it matter? I'm emancipated, and a qualified mage." With a thought, I had Mal send him my (faked) documentation to check.
The bounty officer snorted at that... then began to look over the documents I'd sent him. "...so you are. Whaddya know?" Thank you, Uno. Note to self- figure out what she likes, and get her some of it.
The guy straightened up a bit in his chair. "Looks like you can do this... but just because you can, doesn't mean you should. Bounty hunting isn't a game, kid- these people are dangerous. If you don't keep your eyes open and your head in the game, they'll chew you up and spit you out."
I nodded. "I know the risks, and I'm prepared for them." After a second, I chuckle, and put on a self-deprecating grin. "...well, I know some of the risks. There's always something else that can go wrong, and odds are it'll catch you by surprise.
At least I know that that can happen, and that I should be looking for it."
The bounty officer- I just now noticed the nameplate on his desk read DROPLITZ DAIMLER- gave me a long stare. I just stood there, looking right back at him.
After a few seconds, he nodded. "You've got the right attitude, kid. I'll give you a simple one this time. Do well with it, and I'll see about getting you something more difficult." Daimler raised one hand, causing a stack of holographic files to appear in front of him, and flicked one at me.
When I brought it up, I was greeted by a mugshot of a face only a mother could love. Sloped forehead... small piggy eyes... and get a load of that slack-jawed stare! Somehow, I get the feeling this guy's not the tallest bulb in the dishwasher. "Yugo Slavonovic", huh? How fitting. Last seen... dear Athena, this is even in the city! How much easier could it be?!
Daimler chuckled. "I see you're not impressed. Didn't you know? Bounty hunters get two types of targets- I call them fools and f-ers. On the one hand, you have yahoos like that Yugo guy- the fools. It's cheaper to put out a bounty than to send in a cop.
On the other hand, you have the real threats- the f-ers. Anybody who's strong enough to drop or dodge Ground Forces task groups, but not important enough to sic Enforcers on gets passed on to us. If they get lucky, they get their money back. If we get lucky, what the heck- it's still cheaper than mounting an op!
You're new, so you get to cut your teeth on a fool. Now get going!"
As I opened the door to leave, Daimler spoke up again. "Good hunting, Mr. Mercury!"
I turned to look back at him, my foot holding the door open. "Please... call me Freddie." Then I turned back, straightened my yellow jacket, and walked out into the city.
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Freddy... Mercury.
And he's a bounty hunter.
There is but one thing to say to this.
But hey, hiring Mercury is a great deal for the price, right? It's a Big-M Value!
I dunno, that guy looks kinda shifty. And where's the M supposed to be in "value," anyway?
--
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ClassicDrogn Wrote:I dunno, that guy looks kinda shifty. And where's the M supposed to be in "value," anyway? Mmmmmmm... value...
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Well, I'd already used Ford Prefect, and I didn't want to skip to Lincoln Douglass. ^^
**********
I've seen plenty of Places What Serve Booze in my time. Bars, pubs, lounges...
...and this is definitely a dive.
The folder of information I'd gotten from Daimler was very thorough- surprisingly so, as a matter of fact. The reason it's called 'bounty hunting' and not, say, 'bounty retrieval' is that you usually don't know where the target is when you get one. You have to track them down yourself. Half the job is finding out where to look, preferably in a way that doesn't tip off your quarry too soon.
You can imagine my surprise when the dossier on Yugo Slavonovic didn't just have a physical description (Neanderthal), list of crimes (petty violence, mostly, and lots of it), skill rundown (meager), and list of habits (many, all odious at best and illegal at worst), but an entire section full of probable locations. Crazy thing even had street addresses, spatial coordinates, and his usual hours for each... establishment.
I found myself pushing open the improvised door of... well, the dossier called it 'The Drunken Rutter'. The sign outside, half-rotted away and dangling at an angle from half its post, was a bit more crude about it, and that's all I've allowed myself to remember about it.I just call it 'The Horrible Smell', from the first thing I noticed when I'd opened the door. The eponymous stench was bad enough I reflexively cut out my sense of scent. Half a second later, I'd forgotten everything about the smell (save that there was a smell, it was horrible, and I'd chosen to forget it), and moved inside.
If anything, the inside was worse than the outside. All the decay that gave the outside its... charm... plus uncounted years of filth. Oh, and the place was dirty, too- all sorts of mold and vomit and who knows what else, covering great swathes of the floor. Only a few places- the most commonly used paths, mostly- were even remotely close to clean, and that only because they were covered in hat looked like fresh straw.
Outside the dump, an iron ball fell up off the ground. Once it got about thirty feet off the ground, it fell sideways for twenty feet, and began to roll (forward and to the left) downhill. Inside the dump, I fell upward about three inches, and began to move my legs as though I was walking. The Air Comet I'd formed was doing all of the work, though; with my shoes no longer touching the befouled ground, I didn't actually have any traction.
I drifted my way into the dive, instantly adjusting to the low light and loud denizens, and began to search. Three seconds later, I stopped searching. Yugo was sitting right at the bar- big as life, and six times as ugly- slamming down mug after mug of... actually, I'm not sure what that was. Might've been grog. Might've been swill. Definitely wasn't appetizing.
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... Wow, and Mid-Childa looks so Metropolis-antiseptic in the wider shots. Are you sure you didn't accidentally to Mid-Den? Also, ten volts says this guy's so used to skiptracers bringing him in he doesn't do much more than complain about them sending a little kid, and tell you to cast something impressive as a demonstration or stop wasting his time.
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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Did I say I'd gone to Mid? There are plenty of other planets in the Bureau's sphere of influence, and plenty more that aren't Administrated. This is supposed to be one of them.
As far as your third sentence goes, in order:
Sizably more of them than that;If he had the reasoning skills, he would be;He's too dumb to think of that when he's sober, much less drunk.
**********
I drifted up to him, dodging a few rowdy patrons along the way, and tapped him on the shoulder. "Mr. Yugo Slavonovic?", I asked, in my best professional tone.
Yugo let out a monstrous belch, scratched his head with one oversized paw, and turned to face my way. "Yah?", he slurred, reaching out to poke me in the chest. (I dodged, of course- couldn't have him staining either the jacket, or the white suit underneath.) "'Oo wants t' know?"
The ball outside, still spinning through the air, slowed noticeably.
I smirked, pulled back my arm, and delivered a sucker punch to Yugo's gut. With just my strength, the punch would've staggered him for a second or two. I'm decently strong, but my punching power is a bit lacking.
That's why I had Malleus extended, its tip sparking with lightning-element mana.
Yugo folded like a house of cards, and fell off his stool, twitching spasmodically.
Before I could lean down to check his status, half the patrons of the bar had stood up. Many of them were brandishing knives, bottles, and other melee weapons threateningly as they closed in.
...as if you all had a chance. I put on a disappointed look, and mimed scuffing the floor with my shoe (incidentally kicking Yugo lightly in the gut). "Aww, come on, guys! Don't stop me now..."
"GAIALIEBE"
The circle that formed under my feet was large enough to cover the inside of the entire bar. With a thought, every living being inside of it found their weight instantly tripled.
Most of them just fell to the floor immediately. A handful fought the spell, but slowly sank into the filthy floor as they tired. One patron managed to stay standing, and took a few shaky steps closer to me, his entire body straining with the effort.
I just added another half a gee. He unceremoniously crumpled to the ground.
With a grin, I completed the line. "I'm having such a good time."
With everybody in the bar incapacitated, I just waved a hand. Yugo, already at my feet, fell up to about chest level before coming to a halt in midair.
The ball outside fell down a few feet, before stabilizing.
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Hmmmmm... Have you been reading Larry Niven's stories about teleportation, or did you independently come up with the same ideas about counterbalancing inertial forces that he did? (Although he used matter instead of magical force.)
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Hee, probably my favorite Queen song, how can I resist?
Very little floating around in ecstasy to be had there, but lots of defying the law of gravity, and you do indeed have a ball. And hey, now I know what alias to have an SI use if I do one.
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
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Rob: No. The ball fell up, and is now rolling in a horizontal circle in midair. It effectively has two effects on it- 'neutralize planetary gravity', and 'gravitic force, constant, direction(whichever way makes you roll around the inside of a circle of these dimensions)'. I, on the other hand, am hovering in an Air Comet inside the building, using its grav-propulsion to fake walking. They're not comparable.
What's going on is that I'm dumping my usual overkill amounts of mana into a complicated Air Comet variation (which will be retconned in the SB version into something else), but most of it is going to an added function (in this case, playing ball). The default Air Comet does something similar, but uses a basic barrier (dark blue flame effect) to take up the excess power, instead. It's the reason the Comet doesn't have a minimum speed best measured in fractional Mach numbers.
Whenever my power draw goes up, the ball drops.
CD: One of my favorites, too, hence why I used it first.
**********
That done, I started to drift my way off towards the door. Every few 'steps', I had to prod Yugo with Mal's tip, sliding him along like the puck in an air hockey game. Note to self: add multiple-object directional controls to the next version. This one-axis thing isn't working. Maybe some way of locking other entities into a position relative to me? Could even crib from Magic Missile for it...
By the time I reached the door, I was thoroughly sick of being in that... 'building'. I'll admit to having gotten a bit testy about it, potentially to the point of overreacting slightly.
[Knock!]
"STOß"
Half a second later, the two of us drifted out the hole-where-a-door-once-was, and well into the lane in front of it. Once we were far enough away, I turned around, taking in the dump one last time (well, if I'm lucky), and ran a few numbers into Air Comet.
Just under a second later, at a very precisely chosen instant, a number of events happened at once. I stopped hovering, my boots lightly settling on the cobblestone lane beneath me. Yugo also stopped hovering, falling rather a good bit less smoothly to the hard ground (with an appropriately-timed deceleration effect on his head; no sense killing the bounty, after all).
The iron ball hit a very specific point in its orbit, and stopped falling forward-and-sideways. Instead, it fell straight down, accelerating to several times terminal velocity, and burying itself in the ground right in front of the dive's door.
The remnants of the "Drunken Rutter"'s 'sign', blown to splinters by the iron ball that fell through them, hit the ground a short time later.
Yeah... a real good time. You're having a ball.
Smiling, I levitated Yugo again, and made for the bounty office.
The door to the bounty office opened, the little bell attached to it cheerfully ding-a-linging as Yugo's head pushed it open. Daimler, his legs up on his desk as he watched some sort of newsfeed, looked up at the sound, only to start at the levitating Yugo in front of him.
Behind Yugo, I brushed some nonexistent lint off the shoulder of my jacket- still immaculate- and grinned up at him. "Did somebody order a fool?"
Daimler blinked. Then he snorted, shaking his head, and came around the desk. I was only holding Yugo about three feet off the ground, so Daimler had to kneel down to- I can't believe he'd do that without gloves- start patting the guy down.
As unpleasant as the concept sounded, I had to admit it made sense. Even an idiot like that probably has a knife or something on him. I should've done something about that myself-"AHA!" ...wait, that's a credit chit, not a weapon. "What are you doing with that?"
Daimler fired up the credit chit, linking it to his system and starting a transfer program. "First rule of bar bets, kid. 'Get your cash before the cops show up.'" The chit let out a cheerful electronic cheeble, and he shut down the program, grinning all the time. "Guy owed me three credits."
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The Wanderer
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My first, reflexive interpretation of that is that he put up the bounty himself, just so that the guy would be brought in so that he could collect that outstanding debt.
Presumably the bounty payout would be considerably more than three credits, though, so more likely he just took advantage of the opportunity.
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Well, that or he didn't have a soft target on the book to test Imma on, so he set it up in order to not send the preteen rookie after someone more dangerous than a grumpy duck.
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Indeed, Wanderer. The guy spends as much time behind bars as he does outside them; Daimler figured he could just collect on his way back in.
Nope. There are plenty of soft targets in the ol' files. Keep in mind, though, that the local definition of 'soft target' typically involves not being powerful enough to wreck a room with one spell. Yugo's dangerous enough to take down one Bureau mook up close, or give a group of them a hard time for a bit- coincidentally, he makes a living as essentially a hired distraction for more capable criminals.
Daimler gave me that particular case because it's a useful litmus test for him. If I was a mage of any power, or had some proper CQB training, I'd be able to drop him. If I wasn't, he would've just roughed me up, and kicked me out of the bar. It's happened before.
**********
He walked back around his desk, and sat down in- that's an awfully comfortable-looking office chair. "Cells are right through that door", he said, jerking a thumb towards the back of the room. "Drop him in one of 'em, smack him upside the head a couple more times, and then hit the green button on the wall next to it.
You get done with that, and we'll get you paid."
"Right, that's done. Two hundred credits to you," Daimler said, opening a transfer to my Device, "one dimension's idiot to me, and a call to the local constabulary for pickup. Done."It was actually rather impressive, how smoothly it'd all gone. Not five minutes after I sat down at Daimler's desk, we'd filled out all the relevant paperwork (another of those anachronistic words; it was all digital), received the bounty from the TSAB Citizen Apprehension Office, and transferred the agreed-upon sum into my account.
...well, one of my accounts. Uno set me up with three, all of them anonymous.
"Now, let's see about getting you some more work." Daimler brought up his pile of folders, and flicked through them idly. "No... no... too old for you... Saint King, NO!... Ah! Here we are- the Bloody Pair! Should be doable for you." He sent me the dossier, leaned back in his chair (really need to scan that thing, next time I'm here), and went back to his vid.
I took that as my cue to leave, and go visit the next targets.
The Bloody Pair. Sickle Lada and ZIL the Hammer, real names unknown- a pair of rising stars in the criminal underworld. No known affiliation to any of the greater syndicates... it should just be the two of them, and the gang of followers they've built up.
Less information on their habits than Yugo, but they're known to frequent Valle del Sol on... what was it... UAW #87? Got the coordinates for eighty-seven, so let's go.
Between dimensional jumps, the part of my mind that wasn't doing calculations was focused on the Quattro issue. ...now that I think about it, it doesn't really matter if she's good or crazy. My strategy should be the same either way. Go back to the Lab, apologize for leaving like that, come up with some sort of explanation for the older sisters, be nice to Quattro until she does something wrong, and watch her all the time. It should work.
After all, nice people are forgiving. If she's really as good a person as she seemed to be, I'll be forgiven... and if she's as much a deceiver as she was in canon, she'll still "forgive" me, because that's what her role would do. Either way, I should be in a position to watch out for any trouble.
The last jump dropped me someplace that wasn't the Valle del Sol. Mal was showing that I was on UAW #87, and the coordinates came with a heading, so I fired up Air Comet and took to the skies.
But what do I tell them? Whatever line I use needs to be almost entirely true, just in case somebody's checking me for lies. Let's see...
...I've got just the thing! Best part is, it's actually entirely true... just not accurate.
That settled, I turned my attention to the world I was flying across.
Screw this place. It's WAY too hot. Time to gain some altitude.
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Oh, I know just the music for this mission too!
Now I'm curious about who all the "No's" were, especially the "Saint King, no!" You don't need to actually develop them of course, but if you had Daimler flicking through files with mugshots Imma could catch glimpses of a few as they go past, enough to drop in a few cameo appearances by way of the most prominent feature of various character designs. It would also be a way to drop in a tiny foreshadowing of a later opponent(s) among the red herrings. I mean like, (oc) - no, Maleficent - no, (oc) - no, Dormammu - no, Jafar - no, (oc) - no, Ryoko Hakubi - Saint King, no! (oc) - no, Rita Repulsa - no, Jinx, no, oh, here we go. Only not by name, just quickie descriptions like "sharp featured woman in black with a horned headdress" for Maleficent, or "A younger looking woman, lots of spiky pale blue hair and long squared-off ears" for Ryoko. Rita would be "another one with a horn-head theme, but more colorful and holding a crescent staff" and Jinx, "What was it with the horns, and was that pink hair?"
ETA: Quote:If we make SB the unit of measurement
... you get Imma.
--
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woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
I dunno. I liked the flow as it was. Maybe drop a hint on one of them as he leaves or something, but I figure that throwing them all in there would drag it out and do bad thigns to the cadence.
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Bluemage Wrote:"... Ah! Here we are- the Bloody Pair! ..." "That's 'Lovely Demons'!"
(C'mon, somebody had to make the http://www.rightstuf.com/rssite/nozomiE ... dirtyPair/]reference...)
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...why do you think I chose that name, Rob? :3
As for the 'who are the other bounties' discussion, I have to say I'm impressed. My intent with that was merely to provide a bit of verisimilitude; Daimler didn't just have the one bounty that suited me, but a whole raft of options, most of which didn't suit me. He has to go through a certain amount of file-shuffling to find the one he wants, and as the intent was to find an easy one for me to prove myself on, I didn't really get access to them.
Normally, I would've added the details CD suggested. I like detail. As Sirrocco suggested, though, the flow would suffer. The flow was sort of the point, so I think I'll leave this one as it is... at this point in the narrative. Remember, I'm running three different narrative threads in the plot right now- Bounties, Syndicate Destruction, and Imma and the Numbers (a band name, if ever I saw one). There will be more bounty-hunting, and I'll eventually have my pick of options- I'll get to dossier-browse then.
That, and every crossover element I add will be a) irrelevant to the plot and the 'verse, except as background flavor (like the Gundam reference earlier), b) reformatted/reimagined thoroughly enough to fit into the MSLN-verse without messing with it too much (using 'Bloody Pair' as this duo's name, the location I just teleported to... that sort of thing), c) both, or d) me trolling the 'verse (every name I take). If I were to do as CD suggested, that would mean that Maleficent, Dormammu, Jafar, Ryoko, Rita, and Jinx (You probably mean DC Universe Jinx, but I choose to imagine the champion from League of Legends, 'cause it's funnier) were all in this universe, and that's just not right!
**********
[Mal, check local atmospheric composition. Estimate highest safe altitude.]
After a second or so, Malleus responded. [AIR PRESSURE AND OXYGEN CONTENT SAFE TO 4000 METERS]
Perfect. [Thanks.]
Once I knew that, I added a bit of upward thrust to the Comet, kept an eye on my AR altimeter, and went in search of a nice, cool breeze.
...2800 meters. Really? I was hoping to hit ten thousand feet before it got too cold. Curses.
At least I'm still making good time.
I touched down right about at the coordinates Mal gave me for the Valle del Sol, and quickly regretted it. It reminded me of the Pacific Southwest in general... and Death Valley in particular. As somebody who looks forward to northern winters for the temperature, this really didn't go over well. Why would anybody build a town out HERE?! There's nothing around but dirt, rocks, and cacti, and it's so freaking HOT I could probably cook an egg on Malleus by now!I'd like to say I was on the bounce and keeping my eyes peeled for targets out there. Sadly, no. Half my attention was on the translucent dome of rippling energy that covered a good portion of the (oddly flat and not valley-like in the least) area. The other half was entirely devoted to griping about the heat, the lack of humidity, all the dirt mucking up my jacket, how bright the local sun was- basically everything nearby that wasn't me or my Device.
...you'd think that gene-modded cyborg mage me would be more heat-resistant than my old body, but noooooooooooooo....
Given there was nothing else in the area, I made for the energy dome. Mal was certain we were in the right place, and had already noted that the dome wasn't one of the harmful types of force fields, so why not? It could hardly be worse in there.
...heat's just as miserable for me now as WHOA THAT'S MUCH BETTER! What is this thing, and can I get one in my quarters?Passing through the dome felt like being enveloped in liquid- thicker than water, but cool and wet- for an instant, before I was through. The other side felt like summer back home; warm without being uncomfortable, distinctly less dry than the kiln outside, and not eye-searingly bright.
...okay, so I wasn't in danger of eye-searage to begin with, but it was the principle of the thing!
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Well if you're going to be all logical and consistent, I suppose you can do it like that. I can see the flow argument as well, and it's not as if the story is like a fractal you can just keep zooming in on for more detail, if you want to advance the plot you have to advance the plot. Adding details that take a lot of effort to figure out and words to relate is counterproductive.
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
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...very true, and that's why most of the irrelephant details get figured out and not used. S'why I was surprised when you asked- usually I have this sort of thing planned out, but I didn't expect to be asked about the other dossiers.
**********
Anyway, once I was inside the climate-control field, I took a second to wipe the sweat off my brow, refresh my barrier jacket (I used to think the TSAB had the best laundry service ever. I was wrong), and fix my hair. Presentation is half of style, after all.
Immaculate once more, I turned my attention to my surroundings... and the small city that had been built inside the field. So this is where they're hiding. Interesting.
Valle del Sol was something of an odd duck. Most of the settlement looked precisely like what I'd expect- a dusty, dirty mining town, living off what they could pull out of the mining pit just past the far edge of the bubble. Then, there was a section- someplace between a third and a quarter- that looked for all the world like an upper-class retreat. It was mansions and gated communities, as far as the eye could see... thanks to some clever landscaping, which hid the mining town from sight.
...so a bunch of rich people wanted to get out on the frontier, but didn't want to actually see what frontier life was like? Is that what I'm seeing, here?
Finally, you had 'downtown' Valle del Sol, which felt like a mix of the two. The main streets were clean and neat, full of respectable shops and restaurants... but the side streets had plenty of bars, cheap stores, and apartments for the people who actually ran the place. Hm. So you have the workers in one place, the gentry in another, and the people who serve both groups in a third. Interesting setup.
...but where are my targets? The dossier gives me the impression that they're working-class thugs, basically- mages, higher status, but thugs nontheless. Given that, they're probably not in the gentry district. Downtown, maybe? Plenty of bars and living space there. Seems like the most likely place.
Good thing they got a magical signature scan off. Should be able to narrow things down significantly.[SEARCH ALREADY IN PROCESS]
...well, that's convenient. [Set search orb flight profile to low-visibility, Malleus.]
[ALREADY DONE]
Ah, the joys of having a good assistant. Off to check the mining area, then.The mining 'district' (I wasn't sure if there was a formal separation there, but it sure felt like it) was a good fifteen minute walk from where I'd entered the weather control field... in my old body. As it was, it took me a bit over twenty minutes to get down and over there.
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http:/ /youtu.be/AjnOj9O16_I?t=1m16s
And breaking the URL is the only way I can get it to NOT embed, stripping out the start time. Grr. You'll have to copy and paste it, it looks like.
... Am I the only one imagining this town and counting the things to be completely knocked down or blown up? No? Carry on then.
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
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One of the things I've been trying to do is not demolish any more property than I have to... well, any more property belonging to innocent bystanders. Criminal property is fair game. It's part of the balance for the whole 'powerful, but locked into overkill' bit- I've made myself naturally predisposed to overkill, but I'm the sort of person who doesn't want to use it in most situations.
Also trying not to have a body count, but that's a good bit easier. Lucky for me that my first major enemy uses drones, innit?
**********
When I did reach the mining town, right on the edge of the bubble, I found it surprisingly familiar. Feels like the Old West by way of Fallout. Well, when you want to find an outlaw in the West, you go to the saloon. Sounds like a plan.
The saloon... well, the nearest saloon... was basically what the style of the town had led me to expect. Architecturally, it was pure Old West- swinging doors, stools, bar against the wall, and everything. The slapdash, rusting metal walls, flickering holographic windows (and door, now that I looked closer), and repurposed-scrap furniture gave the lie to that, though, as did the clientele.
Well, judging from the muscles, the dirt, and the shabbiness of them, I managed to happen upon a miner bar... in a town full of miners. Big surprise. I don't think I'll find my targets hanging out in a miner bar- they seem more like-
"What do we have here!" A heavy hand landed on my shoulder; turning my head, I saw one of the locals, his tanned, leathery face twisted into a smirk.
Shut up, you! Can't you see I'm deep in thought?
"Looks like we've got ourselves an outsider! Ooooh, and a fancy one, too!" He looked my outfit over, whistling in mock-appreciation. "What's a fancy-pants nob like you doin' in a Digger bar?"
I scowled, brushing his hand off my shoulder. You just had to mess up my jacket. Now I'm going to have to refresh it again! "Leaving." With that, I turned my head back, and tried to head for the door, only for a couple of other miners to stand up and block my path.
"I don't think so." He laughed at this; a few other miners (the brighter ones) in the crowd chuckled along. "You didn't pay the entry fee." Now all the miners got what was coming, and joined in on the laughter.
So that's the way you want to play it, huh? Always wanted to try this. Stopping, I slowly turned to face the miner who'd been harassing me, a look of (faked) incredulity on my face. "Are you... robbing me?"
The miner let out a deep belly laugh. "You're a little slow, aren't ya, kid? You're damn right this is a robbery! Whatever you've got- hand it over!"
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"Well, lets see. I've got lots and lots of magic missiles, and some extra gravity too. How many do you want per second, or should I just hand over a few gees and call it done?"
Yes, yes, I know, minimizing casualties and collateral damage. Come on, it's funny!
--
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ClassicDrogn Wrote:"Well, lets see. I've got lots and lots of magic missiles, and some extra gravity too. How many do you want per second, or should I just hand over a few gees and call it done?"
Yes, yes, I know, minimizing casualties and collateral damage. Come on, it's funny! What would be even funnier would be the next snippet starting with "" - implying the fight isn't even worth describing.
--
Rob Kelk
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Tennie, as far as SB is considered, this thread shouldn't exist. Please don't reference it directly. For one thing, I'd prefer that they only see the second draft. For another, it punches holes in the fourth wall.
I'm having a hard enough time holding that together as it is.
I trust my solution meets with your approval, CD?
(I mean, come on! If I was going to crib from RWBY, I had to do it right.)
As funny as that would be, Rob, Animus don't work that way. Besides, this fight *is* relevant.
**********
"Ohh...", I said back, drawing the word out, making it sound like I'd just figured out what they were doing... and then set up Malleus in double Shooting Form. Quick as I could, I slid one barrel past the goons blocking my path, aimed the other at the miner that'd been bothering me, and fired off two blasts of mana.
The first one to hit splashed across the miner's pants. Judging by his facial expressions, he had just enough time to notice it, fear for his life, fear for his manhood, and then wonder why he was still alive... before the other burst of mana hit.
At this point, if an outside observer were to look into the saloon, they would've seen a kid in white and yellow dive over to the bar... shortly before seeing two big men knocked over like tenpins by a screaming miner. Said miner then proceeded to fall, crotch-first, out of one of the holographic windows at the front of the building, across the empty street, and through one of the (non-holographic) windows on the other side of the street, before tumbling to a halt inside that building.
I stood back up, knocking the dust off my hands, before casually respringing my barrier jacket clean. "...and another one bites the dust. Who's next?"
The miners, it turned out, were rather in a hurry to sit down and have their drinks at that point. Couldn't blame them, really- that was a bit more painful of a fate than I'd wanted to inflict. Man, I wish I'd known that was a real window. Would've aimed lower.
From outside the saloon, I heard a heavily-accented voice say "You are."
...no, I'm not. Who said that? Looking up, I saw a pair of figures standing in the street.
[SEARCH COMPLETE. TARGET SIGNATURES ARE NOT]-
[-not downtown. I know. Cancel the search.]
I blinked, doing a slightly-exaggerated double-take, and reached up to clean my ear out with a pinky finger. "...I'm sorry? What did you say?" Nobody got in my way as I walked out of the saloon, into the street, and out to a reasonable distance from my targets. "You said I was next? Are you aware of whom you are addressing?"
Without waiting for either of them to respond, I leaned forward, cupped one hand by my mouth, and stage-whispered "...that means 'Who the hell do you think I am?'"
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