Log:Observing Port Protocols

2020/09/17 	 Paragon

1

The Port! Where things are transported to and fro. Loaded, unloaded, collated, disseminated, and otherwise scattered about or gathered together!

Today, things seem to be getting more scattered than normal, their level of entropy excessively increased. How? Well, reports of a small metal man tossing about, opening up, and otherwise eviscerating cargo containers have been issued. Calls for assistance as dockworkers unanimously agree that this qualifies as a union-approved excuse and evacuate.

Magda hearing reports of 'metal man' and having justifiable concerns over the whole '13' issue, goes to investigate.

Natasha was just enjoying gliding about on the winds high in the air. But someone is tossing things about in a way that encourages chasing them. Said person also being shiny. This calls for investigation! She swoops down portwards.

Smokey flies to the Port to help out, a little tortoiseshell kitten with feathered wings.

Hotfoot arrives in with rush of wind from Nicholston (where Bree had just delivered a package).

Paragon has been searching the city and scanning the police bands for sign of her astray husband. There've been several false alarms involving other villains in metal armor. Paragon suspects this may be another, but still, she responds. With a massive leap a few districts over, Paragon lands with a heavy thud in a three-point landing at the port.

Night Marshal realized this sounded a little like...the robot incursion he tried to help with a few weeks ago. So he responds to the call by gliding over to the port and landing on one of the buildings there to get his bearings.

"Agent Ferryl, on it," Rangel's voice speaks in reply to the report, dropping the lunch she was about to begin and making for the Port area from the not-distant Nicholston. In one hand, her staff. In the other, nothing yet. She pauses momentarily to assess and evaluate the situation before taking a circular route to be in the general area.

Grant is here, at the Port to sign for a shipment. He looks around as the sound of crashing prompts the office he's in to vacate. He moves to follow and sees the tide of union workers fleeing.

Grant begins to move counter the current, and towards trouble. He isn't sure what he's going to do when he gets there, but if someone is trapped or something then he wants to lend a hand. He doesn't have to worry much about being injured- at least he doesn't think so after the Medical Reports came back about his metahuman abilities.

He's grateful he parked his bike on the other side of the building considering what's going on.

Sometimes you gotta get out of the office. You can take the woman out of the council, but you can't.. oh skip it. Judith needed a break after having nothing but political BS all morning.. after lunch, Judith declared that she needed a break. So of course she went for a run.

By 'a run', she meant that she was going to change into her spandex and bluejeans and head out into town. If she was lucky, she might get shot at.

So she comes jogging down the street towards the port. But she's not heavy enough to make heavy thuds with her feet.

From most viewpoints, the currently moving container almost seems to be doing so on its own. It flies up, over, and out to land upon another with a crunch and a spilling out of... rubber chickens(?). Surely a valuable imported commodity!

In the open spot of port in the container's wake stands... well, a small metal man. The styling of the exoskeletal alloy is not so different from Paragon. Just shorter. Smaller.

Night Marshal remembers what kind of luck he had with fighting the robots last time. But he spots someone else watching...whom he doesnt' recognize. Might as well figure that out first. He glides over toward the crane in question, trying to remain moderately stealthy by moving indirectly in a wide arc and behind buildings to get to the crane proper, intending to land on it, but toward the base of it.

Grant isn't sure what to do- he's no hero. At least not like this city seems to spawn, but he feels the urge to do something so he presses on. Seeing the lone figure, he maneuvers himself to keep that figure in view while continuing to approach the short Paragon-like entity.

He stops at a crunched contianer and ducks behind it to rip off his t-shirt sleeve, which he then promptly uses as a makeshift mask. He certainly isn't going to loose flight time next week over some civilian matter, but he knows he can't stand idly by either.

Paragon rises up from her landing, head panning to survey the scene. Multiple heat signatures. Someone on the crane. Eventually her head settles on the smaller version of herself. That's her priority. She leaps over with the intent to land right in front of it.

Smokey sees there's sufficient muscle power on hand to deal with the container thrower. That is, Patagon is there. So she flies up to land on the top of the same contained as the watcher. And morphs into a 2ft high leprechaun. "Tuck O'Brian, at your service." she says in an Irish accent, "Be a fine day for a show is it not?"

Rangel gives the other persons the time they need to approach and understand whomever it is she sees, drawing out a few blunties for general use. One, she nocks for readiness. Settling into a nice comfortable sniping spot, she observes.

Natasha heads for the ruuner chickens! Though when they just fall to the ground they seem less interesting.

Grant steps out from behind his container and holds his hands up and moves towards Para-not directly. Maybe he'll just be a distraction. He knows he's not nearly strong enough to take this guy in athrow down- but maybe all he has to do is 'keep him busy a spell or two', or so he hopes. Staying silent keeps his twang under wraps and he hopes will keep Para-not guessing long enough for the cavary to arrive.

Okay, it's difficult to -miss- Paragon's hurtling method of travel. Judith grins to herself and turns before launching herself into the air herself. She's got good aim... which comes from long hours of practice.

After a second or two, she drops down to land behind Paragon. "Well hello there big tall and armored." she says, "Long time, no speak." she states as she straigthens up from her bent-leg shock absorption.

Hotfoot zips up to the one who's making the mess here, stopping about 10m away. "Quite a mess here. You're gonna clean it up right? Cuz I sure ain't."

Korkoro, on the other hand, does not come down; she works better with large spaces, and while the port is technically such -- it really is a /fantastic/ area for her purposes, all those steel shipping containers -- she still prefers a certain amount of range between herself and whomever is ... casting things about. She has her suspicions, though, and drifts closer to examine the identity of the 'metal man'.

The Observer (or so we'll call the individual on the crane) suddenly claps gloved hands as heroes arrive. At first the hood looks down at the Paragon that jumped in front of the coordinated (armor-wise at least) Unit. Then the hood pans to suddenly-arriving ...leprechaun. Perhaps it is a theme party, as the swirling mass of vague darkness within the hood could make The Observer not unlike a banshee? "A fine day for a show," a strange vibrato voice responds. "Don't ruin it." The hood turns back to the pairing... now trioing (with Judith's arrival). "Dismember her," is demanded, to no one in particular.

On the dock level, Unit 13 (sub-designationr unknown) turns towards Paragon. Gauntleted fists are lifted in a fighting stance... or something vaguely resembling one.

Grant looks over to the Armored & Muscle-bound heroes and feels distinctly underdressed. He shrugs it off thinking, 'Calling it casual- now all I have to do is not get killed... which I could do by just backing out slowly..." He glances over at Paragon and Judith again and pushes the thought away. THey look like they can handle the muscle to him- so he decides to help sure up their defenses.

He moves to position himself near enough to intercede should the opportunity arise.

Its a good thing too, because suddenly Unit 13 is looking far more menacing now.

Night Marshal lands on the base of the crane lightly...or as lightly as he can manage, trying to remain relatively stealthy.

"Councilwoman Edgemont," Paragon's tinny voice echoes in acknowledgement of Judith's arrival as she focuses on the armed person before her. "It has certainly been some time due to my retirement. Which I am temporarily out of now that my husband has been subverted." Paragon's head pans down to Unit 13's fist, the helm making her expression unreadable. She reaches out to try to put a hand over Unit 13's right fist. Paper beats Rock?

At the man's order of dismemberment, Judith gives an incline of her head, and a look of disbelief. Not that anyone would give such an order so much as... that they'd think it'd work on her. (Much like that big marine Wil Smith said in Independence Day 'Just tell'em I hit you'...)

"This idiot serious?" she asks even as Paragon begins reaching out.

"This i...ndividual is my Husband," Paragon explains as her hand closes around Unit 13's. Not to crush, but to hold and restrain. "Or one of his alternate selves. They aren't in control of themselves."

The masked Grant looks around to see if anyone else thinks that's weird.

Natasha can do restraining! She flies on toward the metal man and exhales glues at him!

Smokey tells the observers cheerfully, "Oh, just to be fair that ye understand. I see na problem with a friendly nout of fisticuffs. Warms the blood on a cold morn. But if there's any dismembering I'll be feeling obliged to share it with ye if you ken ma meaning."

Stopping her descent well above the area -- about 70m away from the metal man -- the black-suited and -cloaked Korkoro begins a slow orbit with the Unit 13 at the approximate center of her radius. Her focus sharpens, apparently upon the 13 down below, but in actuality upon the Watcher on the Crane.

After Night Marshal toes a wrench that a worker left (in haste) to CLANG-CLANG-CLANG and echo as it careens along the lower portion of the crane mast (and into something else, and another thing), The Observer glances down in his direction. A gloved finger is held in front of the hood. "Shhh. It is getting to the good part..." Back to observing.

What is the good part? Well, it could be the FLASHTHWUMP that removes Unit 13 from both sticky situation and hand-holding. It re-appears behind Paragon, and then reaches for her wrist. More hand holding? Perhaps a nice walk along the pier?

Natasha snorts as Unit 13 teleports out of the glue. That's cheating!

Unit 13 locks its gauntleted fingers around Paragon's wrist and then promptly lifts her up and over his head... to arc and then slam her down into the concrete on the other side.

Grant stretches his arms out and closes his eyes, imagining the field around him leaping the distance between his arms and pressing outward.

He tries to do the thing he did the time he did it successfully. Of course he fails miserably, and is ignored by Unit 13 easily.

Luckily for his ego- his eyes are closed, so he doesn't know that yet.

He tentatively opens an eye in time to see Paragon be slammed into the ground.

How looks appalled, stunned even. That's not how any Husband should treat their partner.

Flashthwump... Judith lifts her brows, "Really?" she asks. And as she flinches, planning to try to intervene, she realizes she is too slow. So she merely armfolds and says, "You do realize this is all useless, right?" And then she calls to the observer. "You should really grow a brain!"

Paragon crashes onto her back and lies there rigidly, glowing eyes staring straight up at the sky. That was unanticipated.

Paragon informs in machine-like placid tones, "I am 92.13% certain that is not my husband."

Smokey chuckles, says, "Was a mighty throw. Worthy of the great Molgog Muchoun himself." And until he/she moves, gives the observer a hearty slap on the back. With full str of 40. More of a push than a punch.

"Okay then." offers Judith when Paragon makes that statement. "If you are sure." and since they both acted, she begins to wind up for a mighty wallop.

Smokey topples the observer off his/her perch into the elevated air. "Can ye fly, now? An' bouncing does na count."

That wind up comes with what looks like a spring loaded Kung Fu grip twist. As she swings her punch, Judith's feet dig in, and literally one foot bends some of the metal under her feet as she tries to get all of her force into it. But that bending removes a tiny amount of leverage. So it is only an incredible punch that lands, not a legendary one... and it's basically your average Uppercut... striking the Porter Wannabe in the chin.

Unit 13 looks to the sky! mostly due to Judith's fist pushing its helm up. The rest of it does not follow, however, and its helm lowers back down. Whether responding with insult to the (general lack of) injury, or it is simply focused... its faceplate doesn't even pan to Judith afterwards.

Hotfoot runs up behind Unit 13 (robo-zombie-alt-Porter?) and strikes it with her Flaming Fist

KAPOW! Flaming fist meets armored hide. Overal, armored hide seems to come out on top, though paint and metal are scorched.

Smokey dives after the Observer using a touch of clinging to get a downward push so she catches up on a free falling body. She tries to wrap around the Observer like a thick rubbery blanket, saying, "Never ye fear, now. I'll cushion ye landing softly like.

Natasha decides Paragon's proclamation mean kid gloves are off! Not that she wears glove, and isn't sure what the age of the gloves has to do with anything. IN any case, tangling the metal man didn't seem to do anything. This time she blasts the metal man with the magical essence of corrosion.

Grant focuses on not repeating past failures and instead looks for another opening to make himself useful.

Smokey catches up with the Observer and flows around him or her like a living coat of thick paint. She done this many times to protect. This time she's not only protecting from the falling damage but aiming to immobilize as well.

The corrosive magic pits and marks and even opens up spots in the back of the armor, to reveal pale, scrawny flesh. Only for a moment, though, as the armor seems to regrow or reform itself. It is not full repair, as pitting and marks remain, but it is contiguous once more.

Unit 13 plants one boot on Paragon's chest with the solid *CLUNK* of metal-on-metal. It then twists at the arm it holds as it pulls. One would thing leverage may be lacking, but it's upward efforts seem to affect itself, too.

The small metal man rapidly begins to grow, upward and outward. It's enlarging foot remains on Paragon as its arm's length increases, though also does its grip's default standing distance from the ground. Small metal man becomes rather large at five meters in height, and then larger as it grows to 10m.

Grant isn't sure he can do anything about that. He just looks up wide-eyed in disbelief. He's seen metas on the news but he's never been at ground zero before.

his heart rate- which is alread beating so loud he swears he can hear it, quickens as Unit 13 turns it up another notch.

Chen growls to the grabbed observer, "If my sister's arm comes off so does yours. So if you have any control I very strongly suggest you use it."

Narrowing her eyes as the guy grows and grows some more, Judith shakes her head, "Stupid." she mutters as she winds up once more. This time she is doing it a bit differently. This time it's a left since her right put her in a position to reverse the blow.

Natasha looks WAY up at the huge figure!

There's a terrible screech. Not of pain, but of metal. Paragon's is shorn off at the shoulder, leaving sparking wires and jagged metal at the rent edges. There's not really all that much blood, considering her body is undead once again thanks to the interference of a villain. It's all coagulated already. The pain is registered, but there still is no screaming from Paragon. Her HUD has gone red in alert, showing a schematic of the damage. "I am now 95.33% certain that is my husband," she announces in deadpan as more sparks shoot from her shoulder.

The Observer make a strange sound to Smokey. A snort-like sound, if one might not know exactly what it was or it was passed through several filters. "There is nothing you can take from me that they didn't already." The Observer vanishes in a flash of light, to re-appear on the cran boom, next to a container of popcorn. A few pieces are collected in gloved fingers and seem to vanishe or disintegrate as they are put into the hood.

Between the release of tension as Unit 13 takes its ...souvenir? and Judith's great uppercut, Unit 13 topples backwards to take two large steps before falling onto containers with its large metal self.

Night Marshal draws his weapon, knowing that he's out of his league with the large robot, but the observer is a bit...tied up at the moment. So, he bides his time.

Paragon rises up to her feet, having to shift her weight to compensate for the lack of balance from the missing limb.

Paragon regains her bearings and leaps upon the fallen Unit 13. She's damaged, but by no means helpless. Her left arm winds back as her upper torso turns with it, before she brings down the hammer in a left cross at Unit 13's head. To beat sense back into her maybe Husband.

CRACK! CRUNCH! There may be other breakfast cereal onamatopeia as Paragon power punches the prone possible Porter of puissant proportions! At the port! The helm gains a small dent from her (comparatively) small fist. Its head sinks further into the ground as concrete crumbles beneath it.

Paragon says after, "I'm sorry, Probably Sweetie, but you would not forgive me if I allowed you to continue disassembling me."