Sabre Stories: Current Events

[OpMegs]

"I still don't see why we're out here," the voice of her fellow Sabre noted as Sacae Sabre slid to a halt, pressing the button sequence in
her gauntlet which restored the armor to its storage place in Riot Force's base. This left her in her usual casual wear: a single piece garment whose skirt
end flared about her legs to provide easy movement, a pair of tough, fingerless gloves, solid, dependable boots, and her emerald green hair tied back in a long
ponytail, her sword hanging at rest in its sheath at her hip.

"Well, we're finally there, so you can open your eyes now," she said to the younger woman, watching in anticipation as Typhoon Sabre, aka Mackie
Stingray, opened her eyes and caught her first glimpse of the area that Lyn had taken weeks of exploring outside the city limits to find. From what Lyn
understood, Mackie'd always lived in large cities with immense skyscrapers that blocked out the sky. And Paragon City itself had parks, true, but most were
overgrown with immense forests that confused anyone who got lost in them. Or they were too small for this. Thus, just as Lyn had suspected, Mackie's
expression when she saw where they were was suitably amazed.

They were some distance from Paragon, in the middle of what might rightly be called "the middle of nowhere", but the seemingly endless plains of
grass with only a few scattered buildings and some hills in the far background laid out an incredible tableau. You could look as far as you wanted and never
see the end of it, and as the wind blew across the area, carrying with it the scent of a fresh rainfall only a few hours before, Lyn smiled broadly as Mackie
took it all in. For her, this was the first place that felt like "home", even if her real birthplace had been a bio-mechanical construction vat in a
Crey lab. It'd called to her even then, in her dreams, and she didn't know precisely why. But she didn't precisely care either.

Taking Mackie by the hand, she smiled at her again. "And now we get to the fun part."

"Huh? What now?" Mackie wondered, tearing her eyes from the vista below.

"Tell me, Mackie, have you ever ridden a horse before?" she asked, with something like an impish grin.

***

(Reference Pic)
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

[OpMegs]

"And here we are interviewing Allison Harker, also known as Demolition Sabre, the only given member of the enigmatic Knight Sabres to maintain a public
identity," the reporter says, glancing up...and up....at the tall amazonian woman walking beside him. "So tell me, Ms. Harker, why break ranks with
your fellow Sabres so openly on this habit?"

Allison shrugs as she continues towards the latest construction zone, the jagged skyline of Faultline visible as she sits down the pile of steel girders and
waved to the other workers on the site. "I don't really know. I mean, I understand their reasons, but hiding who I am never really seemed likely to do
anything but make things more complicated."

"Some might say that so many armored figures apparently owing unquestioned allegiance to one anonymous source might be considered somewhat worrying, if
say, the leader were to consider them a private army," the reporter points out, drawing an amused rolling of the eyes from Allison.

"Sure, I suppose you could wonder that," she notes, picking up a girder bare handed and taking it over to the construction site, where she holds it
in place as other workers begin securing it with power tools. "Personally, I don't see the difference between us and a vast majority of other
supergroups that happen to use the same uniform or theme!" she shouts over the din of power drills and welders.

The interview goes on for some time, touching on Ms. Harker's job with Paragon Construction, her liscense to use her armor to assist in the construction,
and her usual rounds of New Overbrook, hunting for Vahzilok and Lost. She notes with some amusement that ever since she extended her patrol patterns to go by
the Yin Storefront, the Clockwork have stopped scavenging from her crew's construction sites almost entirely(aside from the scrap metal they can't use
which they leave out as sort of a peace offering), a lowering in costs that'll allow them show a 35% profit over any other construction company in
Faultline. She thanks whoever for such small favors, even as she notes that whatever the benefits to the Sabre's general secret identities, she's
unlikely to resort to such measures as that'd make finding a boyfriend a real pain in the ass.

***

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you planned her decision to stay public just for that TV spot," Priss noted, reclining against Sylia.

"Please, not everything is some Machiavellian plot that I enact on behalf of the safety and well being of my girls," Sylia noted, chuckling to
herself.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

[Wiregeek]

As she leaned down over Priss to steal a kiss, Sylia hesitated, and breathed out "Just.. most things." before claiming her lover's laughing lips.

*waggles eyebrows*
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

[OpMegs]

Damn. I was fishing for a Nemesis plot joke there, but I'll take what I can get.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

[Ebony]

So, things are either a Nemesis plot or a Sylia plot? Creepy.
Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com

"Good night, and may the Good Lord take a Viking to you."

[Bob Schroeck]

Perhaps... Sylia = Nemesis.

What? Someone had to say it.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

[Valles]

Nemesis doesn't look like that.
===========

===============================================
"V, did you do something foolish?"
"Yes, and it was glorious."

[Sofaspud]

... one hopes not, at any rate.

Pardon me, I'm going to go bleach my brain now.

--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs

[Wiregeek]

Nemesis doesn't look like that.

...Nemesis should be so lucky as to look like that.

jeez, if Nemesis was 'hitting' Priss, there'd be a whole lot less plotting...
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

[dark seraph]

Wiredgeek wrote:

---

Nemesis doesn't look like that.

...Nemesis should be so lucky as to look like that.




jeez, if Nemesis was 'hitting' Priss, there'd be a whole lot less plotting...

... this is how evil ideas are started

[Norgarth]

Reminds me of something I heard on the radio a few years back. At the time, that station didn't have a regular morning show/host so they'd have various 'guest' DJs. One was supposed to be the Computer from Wargames, but the one I was thinking of in this case was Roger Rabbit (either the actual actor or a decent imitator). Anyways, at one point between songs, 'Roger' mentions that people keep asking him why he hasn't been in any more movies, to which he responds, "If you had a wife like Jessica, would you ever leave the house? I don't think so."

man, I really rambled there, didn't I?
___________________________
"I've always wanted to be somebody, but I should have been more specific." - George Carlin

[OpMegs]

In all his days on the force, Detective Freitag could honestly say he'd never seen something like this before. Well, similar things. And things that
resembled a few parts of what he was looking at. But never this particular combination.

In front of him was a gigantic pile of Skulls, Hellions, Vahzilok, and, inexplicably, a large number of Trolls. All of them were unconscious and showed signs
of rough treatment, and it didn't take a detective to deduce who'd done it to them. Especially as the bright orange and black armored figure was
standing on top of the pile, walking her way through what appeared to be a mock duel with empty air, her moves occasionally punctuated by a sharp shout of
triumph or surprise.

Which was when she noticed him, jumped off the pile in an elaborate flip and twist that would make most acrobats green with envy, and landed in front of him,
longsword held out at her side in preparation even as the impassive grey visor took in his appearance. Freitrag sighed mentally. Another one of those Sabre
kids.

"Mind if I ask what you're doing here, young lady?" he said, flashing his badge, which got enough of a reaction that she slid her sword into its
impromptu scabbard.

"I'm being the bane of the wicked as I search this city for my true rival! For only a fellow master of the sword could challenge me enough to push
beyond my limits to the heights which I'm destined to attain!"

Correction: a Sabre with delusions of grandeur. At least she was pleasant enough, in a Flynnian sort of way....

"And the reason you piled them up into a little mountain?"

"To attract more challengers! Either I will meet my rival with whom I am destined to cross blades until one of us is the strongest, or I will encounter my
true nemesis: a foe so cunning and powerful that I will have to train even harder than I do already to meet such evil on the field of battle!"

"...did you ever think about tagging them for police recovery?" Freitrag asked, then sighed openly at the blank look visible even through the
reflective visor. "Kid, listen....what's your name?"

"I'm Astra Sabre, a graceful whirlwind of singing steel!" she announced with a flourish. Freitrag nodded,then pulled out a card which he handed
to her.

"Take that to Atlas, and they'll get you set up with a hero's liscense, kid. Otherwise, I have to bring you in as an unauthorized vigilante. As
is, I imagine you can pass the test easily. Lemme make a call and I'll set ya up with a cab..." he noted, stepping over to the precinct to get a
phone...only to notice the girl already sprinting away towards the Yellow Line.

"....that girl's gonna be trouble. Or an incredible hero. One of the two."
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

[Bob Schroeck]

...or both. Not mutually exclusive.

And I can't wait for her to meet up with Utena...
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

[Sofaspud]

"Hi, Sylia! You wanted to see me?"

Sylia nodded and stepped back, holding the door open. "Yes, I did. Come in, Nene."

When they were seated at Sylia's kitchen table, she was silent for a few moments as Nene watched her curiously. Finally, the redhead spoke.

"So... what is it? You seem awful serious about something."

Sylia nodded. "I needed to talk to you before I talked to the others. You could say I need your advice, Nene."

Nene's eyes widened a little, and an eyebrow attempted to climb into her hairline. "-MY- advice?" She laughed. "Wow, we -have- come a
long ways, haven't we?"

Sylia couldn't help but smile in response. "Yes, well, I'll try not to make a habit of it, you being a busy mother and all." She ignored
the indignant "Hey!" from Nene's side of the table and turned in her seat, lifting a heavy cardboard filing box -- the type with a lid used by
offices world-wide for storing documents and random junk -- with no apparent effort to the tabletop.

"In here are... well, I'm not sure what exactly to call them," Sylia admitted. "One of the new girls found them in an abandoned warehouse
while dealing with some Freakshow."

Nene looked at the box doubtfully, then back up at Sylia. "And?" she prompted.

"Nene, I brought these to your attention first because you and I, I think, have ... 'adapted', one could say, the best to what -- to who -- we are
now. I love Priss," and Sylia caught the swiftly-hidden startlement on Nene's face at the outright admission, "but all the same I can't be
sure she's ready for ... these. And Linna may never be."

Without another word, she removed the lid to the box and tipped it over, spilling old data modules, floppy disks, and photographs across the oak. Nene stared
at them for a moment, then her face went white.

"Oh my god," she whispered, reaching out with one trembling hand to pick up one of the floppies, a format not much in use these days. This example
had a logo worked into the plastic, one that Nene was intimately familiar with.

GENOM.

"How...?" she said, turning the disk over in her hands as if to assure herself it was real.

"There's more," Sylia replied. She flipped over one of the photos, revealing Nene coming out of a bakery with two large bags. Sylia could tell
that Nene recognized the shop; it had been the redhead's favorite, back in MegaTokyo.

"What IS all this, Sylia!?"

Sylia shook her head. "It's... it's who we were, in a way. When Crey raided our... the Knight Sabers home reality... they took as much as they
could of the project that was supposed to replicate... us." Sylia waved a hand at the pile. "This, I think, was ancillary material. What little
I've gone through so far seems to be mostly surveillance footage and notes about our habits, friends, lives outside of the Sabers. I think this is what
GENOM was planning to use to build our, our... our personality profiles." She took a deep breath. "And if I'm right, it means they knew who we
were back then in much more detail than I'd suspected. It means I failed, I failed all of you."

Nene scowled. "That's crap, Sylia, and you know it. Maybe they knew, maybe they didn't, but none of that matters -now-. Does it?"

"... I suppose not."

Nene nodded firmly. "Right! So what should we do with all this, then?" Nene looked thoughtful. "I could ask Ifrit to burn it, she always
enjoys that..."

"Nene!" Sylia was stunned. "Do you mean to tell me you'd rather pretend our past never happened?"

"Hey, I don't know about -you-, Sylia, but I'm just -fine- with everything the way it is now!" Nene glared across the table. "I have
my friends, I have a -family-, I don't have to hide who I am from the world, -and- I get to help people like we always said we were trying to do, without
being chased by the cops for it!" She shook her head and folded her arms across her chest, leaning back and looking away from Sylia. "God, Sylia!
I think maybe you -want- things to go back to what they were!"

"I... no." Sylia sighed. "I do -not- want that." She shuddered.

"Well... okay then." Nene leaned forward again, a look of morbid curiousity crossing her features. She began to sort through the photos.
"Hey! Here's one of Linna and that guy she dated for a couple weeks."

"Which one?"

"The dark-haired one, not the tall one but the average one. The mechanic."

"Oh, yes. He fixed her van, as I recall."

"Yeah, that's the one. I sort of liked him, he was nice."

"Here's another of you, Nene." Sylia held out a photo, which Nene took one look at and burst into giggles.

"Oh, wow! I'd forgotten about that!" She tapped at herself in the picture. "That was during my whole 'ooh, look at me, I'm a
rebel' phase. What do you think, Sylia? Was I better as a blonde?"

"You've always been you," Sylia replied. Nene rolled her eyes.

"Puh-leeeze." She brightened. "Hey, here's you!" She held up the photo and grinned. "Speaking of a 'rebel
phase'..."

"I won several prizes that year for that design, as I recall."

"You're just lucky it was a warm fall. There wasn't much TO that design."

They continued going through the pile in companionable silence for a time. Finally, Nene spoke up.

"You know..." she began slowly. "Ifrit and I were talking the other day about our pasts. She doesn't have much of one, and I ...
well..." She set her stack of photos down and leaned forward, cupping her chin in her palms, elbows resting on the table. "I don't remember all
of it, and most of what I do remember is the bad stuff, y'know?" She sighed. "These pictures... it's like they're reminding me of
something I'd forgotten."

"Technically, that could literally be true."

Nene rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Sylia. "Duh, I -know- that? I was trying to make a point." She sat back and watched Sylia stack
the last of the photos neatly, then begin putting the other remnants back in the box.

"My vote is, we keep the ones that we like, that remind us of something nice," Nene said firmly. "Then have Ifrit vaporize the rest."

"There might be something on those drives we could use--"

"Use -how-, Sylia? We're already ahead of where we used to be. We've blown our old tech curve out of the water. Crey is way ahead of where
GENOM was, most ways, and we've taken it farther still."

"... we could possibly go back," Sylia said quietly. "With data this comprehensive, this many artifacts to scan, it might be possible for
Portal Corps to locate MegaTokyo for us."

Nene reached across the table and took Sylia's hand. "Is that what you -want-, Sylia? Because if it is, you're an idiot... but I'll help you
all the same."

Sylia looked up, startled. Nene smiled.

"Hey, we're friends, right? I'll help you on your damn-fool idealistic crusade, even if I don't agree with it."

Sylia swallowed. "I... thank you, Nene." She squeezed the other woman's hand. "I don't want to go back... but... I feel that I may
have an obligation to."

"Not the Mission again?" Nene quipped.

"In a way, yes." Sylia sighed. "When it was impossible to go back, I could put it out of my mind. We have enough challenges here to
concentrate on, after all. But now... well, think of it. -We- could have used the help. If all four of us went back, just for one night, we could take care
of the GENOM threat once and for all."

"Is that what you -want-?"

"No!" Sylia exploded. "I -want- to stay here! I -want- to live -my- life, with Priss and you and Linna and all the other girls, and the
friends we've made here! I -want- to forget GENOM ever existed, that my father ever created -this-" and here she ran her hands down her sides,
mockingly "-- in the first place!"

"Then do it."

Sylia's head whipped around, to where Priss leaned against the doorframe.

"Do it," the singer repeated, pushing off the wall. She spun a chair around backwards and sat in it, meeting Sylia's eyes with her own.
"Forget all that shit ever went down, and just -live-."

"How long...?" Sylia whispered. Priss waved a hand.

"Eh, long enough." She picked up the topmost photo on the stack, which happened to be one of her next to Sylvie at a hamburger stand. She set it
down in front of Sylia and tapped the red-leather-clad figure meaningfully. "Who is that?"

"... it's you," Sylia said, slightly confused.

"Nah." Priss flicked her fingers dismissively. "That's Priscilla Asagiri, some wannabe rocker chick in MegaTokyo who can't admit who
she's really in love with and takes refuge in booze and bikes." She hooked a thumb at herself. "Me, I'm Priss -- just Priss -- and I'm
... pretty damn happy, actually." She shrugged. "See? Totally different people. I admit, she kinda looks like me, but I'm used to lookalikes.
Comes with the whole fame thing, you can't avoid it."

Sylia laughed even as tears came to her eyes.

"Look, if you -want- to go back -- to stomp GENOM, to help the Sabers there, to take Mason's skull and polish it for a trophy -- I'll be right
there with you. You know I love a good scrap." Priss scratched her head. "But if you feel like you -need- to go back... don't."

"You don't owe the Sabers there anything," Nene said softly. "And when you get right down to it, you don't even have a father -- none
of us do -- so you don't owe him anything either."

"You've helped the rest of us come to grips with what we are," Priss said. "I think you forgot someone, though." Priss stood and drew
Sylia to her feet, leading her to the small decorative mirror on the wall. She caught Sylia's chin in her strong hands and forced her to look into the
silver depths.

"Are you the same Sylia that was in those pictures?"

Sylia remained silent for a long moment. Then she slumped, closing her eyes. "No," she finally whispered.

"Damn straight," Priss replied. Nene coughed and spluttered behind them. Without turning around, Priss added, "You know what I -meant-,
Nene."

"Yeah, yeah."

--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs

[OpMegs]

I said it before, and I'll say it again. I absolutely love this piece. For a good many reasons that I think I explained in detail elsewhere. :lol:
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

[Bob Schroeck]

Likewise.

That said, the idea of "Night of a Million Sabres" in MegaTokyo is very, very appealing.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

[Norgarth]

Bob Schroeck wrote:

---

Likewise.




That said, the idea of "Night of a Million Sabres" in MegaTokyo is very, very appealing.

Watching as Mason/Largo/Madigan/Quincy freak out would be fun. (the reactions of the Originals would be amusing too)
___________________________
"I've always wanted to be somebody, but I should have been more specific." - George Carlin

[Evil Midnight Lurker]

...the image... it haunts me.

The Knight Sabers, seemingly cornered by Largo and a buma horde. And then, at Sylia's signal... from every rooftop and behind every wall, one by one, the
Sabres of Paragon reveal themselves...

--Sam

"Saber Legion, SANJO!"

[Terrenceknight]

If there ever was one..Terr would sooo want to be in on that kinda action :p if for no -other- reason than to watch the carnage The Sabre hoard wrecks upon
Largo and them *Grin*

[Bob Schroeck]

We appear to be all in agreement here. Now we just need someone to write it...
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

[Sofaspud]

The light in the penthouse came from a single shaded lamp on an end-table next to a comfortable couch; it was dark outside, and the lights from the city were
carefully filtered by expensive, clever little devices in the windows. It made for a cozy atmosphere.

Or would have, save for a certain frustrated singer.

"I'm not a fucking teacher, Sylia!"

"You have been before."

Priss stared, baffled, at her lover. "How do you figure -that-?" she asked sarcastically. "'cause I sure don't remember anything of
the sort." She scowled and flopped back on the couch, closing her eyes. "Why don't you ask Linna? She's the one who used to be an
instructor. Kind of. You know what I mean."

Sylia nodded agreeably. "Linna will be doing something similar, yes. As will Nene and myself. It all depends on the student." She spread her
hands. "Priss, you know as well as I do how dangerous it is out there. We've helped the new Sabres as much as we can... this is the next logical
step. Crey seems to have slowed down, which is good, but some of these new girls have even less idea of how to use their abilities than -we- did." She
paused for a moment. "I can't say we owe them, exactly, but I do feel that helping them is something we should do."

Priss waved a hand. "Oh, sure, I get that, I'm all for it, really I am, but c'mon, Sylia! I'm not exactly the teacher type."

"Yes, you are, Priss."

Priss raised her head and stared at Sylia. "How?" she said, a hint of challenge in her voice, knowing Sylia could read the defiance in her
expression.

"A teacher is one who has something to impart and can help another learn it," Sylia said primly. "You fit that definition, however loosely.
You just don't want to admit it."

"That's a load of --"

"You -inspire-, Priss. You -motivate-. You do it every time you're on stage; it's why your band -- YOUR band, not THE band or A band -- follows
you." Sylia smiled then, a rather unusual grin for the usually reserved Sabre leader. "Believe me when I say that you can inspire people to do
things they never thought they could."

Priss stared, confused, before the meaning sank in. She blushed lightly. "Hey!"

Sylia let her grin spread a little wider.

"... not what I -meant-..." Priss grumbled, sitting up again. "Okay, fine," she sighed. "I don't think this is such a hot idea,
Sylia, but if you want me to ... motivate... some of the new girls, I'll give it a shot. For you," she added.

Sylia nodded. "I would definitely owe you one," she said by way of thanks.

"... lot more than one..." Priss groused, trailing off as Sylia leaned forward and lazily traced a fingernail up her thigh.

"Oh?" Sylia's smile was almost predatory. "Shall we discuss a... payment plan, then?"

"... that's not fair, Sylia," Priss whimpered.

"I -told- you you were inspiring," Sylia replied. "Consider me... motivated."

--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs

[Wiregeek]

"Consider me... motivated."

Sweet mother of Sarah Conner on a gold bullion bicycle!
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies

[OpMegs]

"You're joking. You have to be," Mackie noted as Lyn stepped off the train platform and almost immediately headed down the steps into the grass
below.

"Why would I be joking? I asked for your help with setting up a few modern conveniences at my home. This is where it is," she said, as Mackie
followed her. As she did, the younger girl looked about, somewhat surprised nonetheless.

Paragon City was, for lack of a better term, rather homey to Mackie. Though areas like Atlas and Galaxy were smaller and more spread out than she was used to,
most areas had a comforting level of urban sprawl to make her feel comfortable. Mackie had grown up (or remembered doing so anyway) in large cities all her
life, so the massive skyscrapers and variety of artificially constructed buildings were comforting. This, however, was exactly the opposite. Rolling hills
extended in a variety of directions, often liberally scattered with trees, ponds, or the occasional boulder. In the distance, she could make out an actual
forest, though smaller than the natural maze of Perez Park. Alongside it was a small lake, and as she hiked behind Lyn, Mackie's eyes soon found the
somewhat odd contradiction that was what looked like a yurt(how she remembered the proper term for the odd tent, she didn't know. History'd never been
her strong suit.) made of modern fabric materials. If she didn't miss her guess, the structure could be broken down in about ten minutes by a single
person, and otherwise resistant to anything short of a direct lightning strike, in terms of weather. Against Paragon's rather mundane weather conditions,
it was unlikely anything natural would threaten it.

Meanwhile, however, Mackie froze at the sound of grunting and odd animal-like growls coming from the forest. Looking over, her eyes widened as she saw a small
group of various animate stones, plants, and mushrooms walking about, planting smaller seedlings of themselves as they looked about. Lyn noticed her gaze and
followed it, before shrugging. "Don't worry about them. They don't come out on the grasslands much, and if they do, I can handle them again,"
she noted, a thumb sliding the blade of her katana slightly out of its sheathe so Mackie could see the gleam of the folded impervium blade. "Really, as
long as you stay out of their herd patterns, they're pretty harmless."

"You move around in here?" Mackie asked, blinking.

"It's why I have the tent," she smiled. "No rent, and no problems about the place not being authorized for habitation due to the threat of
Devouring Earth attacks like building a cabin would cause. The biggest trouble I had was doing the research to identify the stuff they grow so I didn't
accidentally eat any of it." At Mackie's confused expression, she smiled. "Well, I have to get food somewhere, and it's harder to identify
non-Devouring Earth plants than it is to make sure a deer or rabbit isn't infected."

"But....why?" Mackie asked, looking at her as she bent down to work on the generator Lyn'd asked her to help make sure was weatherproofed.
"I mean, rent isn't that expensive in Paragon, even if you're doing full time heroing....this seems like
a lot of work just to avoid paying that."

Lyn sighed as she sat down across from Mackie, her sheathed blade lying across her lap. A glance up confirmed that her expression was entirely serious as she
started talking. "Maybe. But....Mackie, do you ever feel....squeezed? Constrained by stuff like Steel Canyon and the rest? Not while we're fighting or
anything, but other times. Just when you go in there casually."

"No, not really," Mackie said, checking some wires for proper insulation coatings.

"I do," Lyn replied, as a gust of wind caught her ponytail. "Most people are like you. Buildings are just that, buildings. Structures people
live in. Even if Steel's too close for them, there's always Skyway or Talos....but to me....it never felt right." Her expression was almost
troubled as she continued. "The Sabres feel right. My blade feels right.
Being a hero feels right. They're as natural to me as sleeping or breathing. But living in the main areas of
Paragon never did. There was always something off. I told you briefly when we went out riding a few weeks back that I felt....at home...out there. That felt right. But unfortunately, land developers know it does. Getting space to actually buy a house or something out there is
expensive....I could never really scrape together the funds, and I don't intend to lean on your sister's charity," she noted. "Even if she is
bankrolling the group out of some sense of obligation to the greater good or something, I don't want or need hand holding. The Sabres isn't a day job
to me. It's like....being with relatives. Family, however distantly related. I wouldn't feel right being taken care of and paid for just because of
what I was born into or the bloodline I came from. I'm just another girl. I don't deserve an unfair advantadge because of that."

She pulled out a sharpening stone her blade probably didn't need as she began running it along the edge with practiced ease. "But then I came here. We
were rescuing some scientist from the Devouring Earth and....despite the fact those monsters are insane and so are their leaders, I felt...something. I
don't have the clearance to enter Eden and see if it's the same way, but here....here felt right. Even if
it's harder or more trouble than it's worth, I wouldn't live anywhere else in Paragon. I've always, always relied on my instincts, and they
tell me this is where I should lay my head....the same way they tell me the Sabres are where I belong," she said softly. "A little inconvenience is
worth that sort of certainty that sinks into your bones, don't you think?"

Mackie watched Lyn as she glanced off at the sun starting its slow descent over the distant treetops and nodded silently. She didn't understand the other
woman's perspective, but for a moment, she could see what she meant. The sight of the dark emerald haired woman in simple, functional clothing framed
against the sun and the surrounding verdant greenery seemed about as natural as her sister at work on her various projects in the Silky Doll, or sitting beside
Priss in a casual moment. The two just...went together in a way that Mackie admitted she didn't have words to explain.

"Yeah...I think so," she said, before bending back to work on something in her element.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."

[Matrix Dragon]

Street Sabre had mixed opinions of fights on cargo ships. On the one hand, there were no side corridors or small, easily missed rooms to be searched. A simple
march through the hull. On the other, they were usually packed full of enemies that would just swarm endlessly.

Like now. She'd been inside the ship for nearly twenty minutes, gone through only two cargo bays, and had actually lost count of how many Green Ink Men had
tried to bury her under sheer weight of numbers. She'd stopped counting at somewhere around sixty. Even as she wrapped her gauntlet around one Tsoos face
and slammed him into another with a crunch of broken bone, another five charged in from the next cargo bay. "Oh god damn it," she muttered, as one of
the Ink Men kicked her in the head. She reached up, grabbed his leg and used him as a club on another two, then threw him into a crate before nearly folding
her next target in half with a punch to the stomach.

As yet another Ink Man jumped on her back, there was a surge of light in front of her as a Sorcerer arrived. A moment later, a localized mini-cyclone picked
her up and threw her into the hull. The Ink Man on her back made a wonderful cushion, she discovered as she pulled herself out, just in time to see the magic
wielder heal several of her previous targets and get them back on her feet, only to teleport away as he saw her charge him. "Heal and run bastard!"
she growled, booster-leaping into a flying kick that caught the Ink Man that had been behind the fleeing Sorcerer right in the face.

Flying past him, her boots sparked and skidded on the metal decking. As the Tsoo charged again, there was a flash of text in the corner of her HUD.

INCOMING CALL: ANN RITONA

Priss blinked, checked her suits clock, then swore. "Answer Call," she ordered, ducking a swing.

"Priss? It's Ann. Look, we're at Celestial Being, and Mir's setting up now," her lead guitarist said as the Sabre grabbed an Ink Man by
his ponytail and jerked his head down into her fist. "We've got to perform in ten minutes, and the club manager's giving us looks."

"Define looks," Priss asked.

"The angry, rapping his fingers on the bar kind," she said as Priss didn't dodge in time and had her helmet make an ear-ringing clang. "What
was that?"

"Uh, some guy just tripped over a trash can," Priss replied quickly, showing the Tsoo in question how to properly break someones nose. "Listen,
my bike's acting up, I'm running to the Green Line now. Can you stall?"

"Sure," Ann said, clearly sounding amused. "We'll do a few pre-concert numbers. Instrumentals." Priss winced as the Sorcerer came back,
the teleport kicking up a flare of ear-rending static on the phone line. "Look, just get here as fast as you can, would you?" she asked. "Surely
the punks you're beating on won't take too much longer," she added with a slight laugh.

The woman in the hardsuit winced. "Was I that obvious?"

"It's Paragon. See you soon Priss." As CALL ENDED flashed in her HUD, Priss swore loudly, grabbed the Sorcerer by the shirt and charged her
knuckle bombers.

"Now we do it the fast and painful way!" she growled, swinging.

[Sweno]

Neat!

it's always the same, no matter where you go?
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy