Log:Breaking in the New Year (and Malcolm)

2014/12/31 Forsaken Malcolm Paragon Shoro Starfish 1

Lowtown Lowtown, so called because it was the first part of the city built on drained marshland, is now the main shopping strip of the city, outstripping the quaint stores of Old Town and rivaling Boardwalk Mall itself. The main thoroughfare, running east to west, is Sea Breeze Boulevard, but even the side streets are busy with commerce. The buildings are less closely packed than in the surrounding districts, with more parking lots, but that's not to say parking is always easy.

Malcolm Gibbs has New Year's Eve off, but due to a strange confluence of events, is unable to spend time with the people (or person) that matter(s) most. He consoles himself by strolling around Lowtown in some rugged-looking jeans, a pair of comfortable old boots, and his most fashionable leather jacket. Judging by the different stores he keeps stopping in front of, Malcolm may also be shopping for a really late Christmas present.

Paragon was passing by the fire department when there was a hint of trouble. One of the fire trucks died just as it was pulling out on an call. Luckily there was a second truck that they were able to take out, and Paragon went along to lend assistance with the car accident they got called on. Now that the car accident has been cleared and the injured tended to, she's back at the fire station lending some support assistance. Mainly, helping push the fire truck carefully back into the firehouse while one of the fireman steer it into position.

The night is young and fruitful, at least for those who are preying on holiday cheer, Shoro's already stopped 3 small crimes in Chinatown, and he's moved on to Lowtown. There is a lot of money and marks walking around, and while lowtown is well lit, Crime doesn't stop, so he doesn't stop. He notices Paragon at the firestation, she's probably doing some good, so he just lurks, watching other areas of lowtown, moving along roof tops quietly and stealthily...

Malcolm is wandering past the fire department whilst Paragon is working on pushing the truck back inside. He narrows his brows, head turning to regard the operation before his body finally stops and twists as well. Folding his arms across his chest, Malcolm calls, "You guys need some help?"

Paragon slowly eases the fire truck into the garage, and the fireman toots the horn to let her know it's time to stop. With a clunk, the fireman unlocks the hood of the truck and Paragon lifts it up to take a look at the engine. She's got some familiarity with fixing things, but she's not what she would consider an expert. When Malcolm offers aid, Paragon turns her featureless faceplate towards him, her glowing eyes tracking to him. "Ohhh, hello, Malcolm!" she fires off a cub scouts salute. "We'd love some assistance. The truck engine died just as they were rolling out." The firefighter jumps out of the truck and walks over to take a look with Paragon. "No need to worry, Station Officer," Paragon chimes. "Malcolm is great with machines."

"My title isn't station officer," the fireman replies with a friendly smile.

Paragon appears puzzled. "Then...sergeant?" The fireman shakes his head in the negative. "Oh," Paragon sounds embarrassed. "Then what do I call you?"

"Bill," the fireman suggests as he flashes a bigger grin in amusement. Paragon rubs the back of her helm sheepishly at the correction.

2 metas in one spot. Usually a magnet for Bad..so Shoro continues to watch the area. Now he's not expecting burglaries he's expecting dimensional rifts...One of the Meta's is someone he cares about so he continues to case the area, as much as he likes her, he knows that she is generally at the center of really bad things. Her boyfriend is the king of luck..or unluck, some would say, but She might be the real nexus of trouble, even if she doesn't know it.

"Nice to meet you, Bill," intones Malcolm, offering a hand to the firefighter as he saunters up toward Bill and Paragon. He smiles cheerily and adds, "I'm Malcolm Gibbs, with Starguard. If you guys are having some engine trouble with your... Engine... I'd be more than happy to give you a hand with it, I'm kind of a grease jockey."

Bill gives Malcolm a firm handshake. "That'd be mighty nice o' ya," Bill answers in a friendly southern drawl. "The engine just up and died just as we were pulling out of the station and wouldn't start up again.

Paragon, the nexus of trouble, steps aside from the engine block and motions for Malcolm to take a look. "It's all yours, Ace," she cheerfully hands things off to Mal.

Malcolm is just making the acquaintance of Fireman Bill - who is not at all a fictional kids' show character, but rather a member of Colonial Bay's Bravest - in one(?) of the Lowtown fire stations. Paragon's already helped Bill and his station brothers in responding to a car accident/fire because their fire engine's engine died on the driveway, just as they were heading to the call. Malcolm arrived just as Paragon was pushing the truck and Bill back into the station house.

"P, you mind grabbing the tools while I take a look under the hood?"

The tall man shoots Paragon a cheery little smile before he moves toward the engine and its exposed engine block. Malcolm promptly sets about taking a look at this and that, intermittently asking for Paragon to hand him a tool or for Bill to turn the key. He seems perfectly at home in this process of diagnosing the engine's problems.

"Incorrect," a synthesized voice states from several meters behind Paragon and Malcom. "You are neither a lubricant nor mounted upon an equine. Your senses are obviously malfunctioning."

The speaker initially seems a phantom, before his form then materializes. Or, rather, merely becomes visible as the interference field is lowered.

"Repairs or recycling are required." Perhaps to facilitate one or the other, the figure lifts a hand and projects a crimson beam at Malcolm. Porter drops Eighth.

Malcolm doesn't really get to do much in the way of diagnostic work before Eighth materializes and takes him far too literally. The tall man is abruptly wrenched off of his feet and towed back toward the svelte, powered armored zombie. "You know, I thought I was having too wonderful an end to the year," comments Malcolm to no one in particular as he slides backward.

Shoro brings the electron cloak up, runs and jumps to the ground, coming up behind 8th. He doesn't strike, he doesn't have the time to do so, but from the looks of this, it is the unit Paragon has spoken of. Regardless, he doesn't want to be discovered, and he won't have a lot of chances, he thinks to pull anything off...

Malcolm holds still in the tractor beam. He doesn't struggle, he doesn't really do much of anything other than let his boots skid across the floor of the fire house as he's hauled back toward Eighth. Well, okay, Malcolm does do one thing - run his damn mouth.

"I take it you're not a fan of colloquialisms, buddy?" inquires Malcolm of Eighth as he draws nearer and nearer. "More importantly, I suppose, I really don't think the junkyard's going to pay you nearly as much as you might think for trying to recycle me. If the guys down here are anything like the one's up in New York City, they really don't like junkin' dead bodies. There's the smell and then the cops get involved and it just turns into an even bigger, more expensive mess."

Eighth

This figure stands just over six feet in height, with a fit, but not bulky, physique. The black technological armor which covers him (it bears no obvious feminine characteristics) also adds minimal bulk and high flexibility between exoskeletal plates. The numerous seams and joints glow with pulsing red light, as do tracks along limbs from phalanges to, and across, the torso. A matching helm and sleek, featureless faceplate protects and fully conceals the head.

Paragon goes rigid at the sound of that voice. . o O (Oh no...they're back...). She's only fortunate they didn't get to anyone else she cares about from the looks of it. Her eyes track Malcolm as he gets tractored away, surprised that Eighth targeted him. And then those illuminated eyes narrow in determination. She doesn't give her usual speech about offering surrender, or leniency, or mercy. She can't afford it anymore. Not with Eighth, or any of Mechaneer's creations.

Paragon leaps up with her right fist raised in the air. She's a good meter above Eighth's head. As she plummets down, she brings her fist down like a club towards Eighth's head, planning to hammer him into the ground.

Eighth may have targeted Malcolm, but he is well aware of Third of Ten. The lines on his armor flash more brightly and a field of crimson energy rapidly expands outward to encompass himself and Malcolm.

The barrier distorts under the sailing mass of Paragon combined with her significant might. Then further. And further still... until it vanishes under the onslaught. There is still some force remaining as she clocks Eighth, though the that force isn't much. Still, she made contact.

Shoro isn't sure how many chances he is going to have at this, his body begins to coalesce all of his chi, and he focuses it into his fist which starts to glow an intense blue, his electron cloak goes down as his inner power is driven more. She's in danger, and from what he knows, this is one of the few things that can truly end her, so he must do what he can to end it.

If Eighth was aware of Shoro prior to the strike, it doesn't appear so. Already rocked some by Paragon's mighty blow shattering the field and striking, it present a perfect target for the gathered blow. Until Eighth happens to step to steady itself just as the blow lands. It is still powerful, and still sends the Unit away from Shoro with the blow... but Eighth remains functional and Malcolm remains held in the tractor beam.

The strike took a lot out of Shoro, and the results are less than he would have desired..The unit remains up..and working, which means its still a threat, and that is not good..in a smooth graceful movement, he moves from strike position to ready stance, although he is unable to really go into a defensive stance...

"So I take it you guys know Captain Fancy Suit here," Malcolm half-inquires, half-observes in the most conversational tone possible. He continues to remain as completely still as possible, which seems to be aided by that darn tractor beam. Is the tractor beam so strong that Malcolm can't escape? Is Malcolm planning something? Is young Doctor Young really the cloned son of old Doctor Young?!

"You upgraded your systems, Third of Ten," Eighth observes as it straightens, "and downgraded your companions."

Paragon's voice echoes in angered warning, "That's Eighth. He's like me, only still under our creator's control. He hurt Porter." It's rare to hear Paragon angry. And the quality in her voice can only be described as rage. "And I'm going to disassemble him!" Eighth has almost killed her twice. Hurt the one she loves most (Sorry, Shoro!). She dips down her left shoulder and starts to charge towards Eighth full tilt, her right fist drawn back.

"Downgraded? I'll have you kno-"

Malcolm is whipped around into meatshield position. His eyes widen as he sees Paragon shoulder-charging with her fist up-raised. The tall man's hands come up in a surprisingly practiced looking blocking position.

"NNNNNNNNNNnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn," of course everything draws down into slow-motion as Paragon's fist approaches his face, "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo."


 * KRACK*

Malcolm's hands are slowed down horribly by the tractor beam, moving ineffectually to try to swat at Paragon's fist. Her fist, instead, slams into Malcolm's face with tremendous force, snapping his head back and sending a spray of spittle and blood flying toward Eighth's helm. The tall man's head lolls forward a moment later as he goes limper still in the tractor beam.

And that is precisely how Malcolm stays for a few seconds, until he starts to roust himself from his little nap. Hey, why does his face hurt? Did he get drunk and walk into another street lamp?

Fire departments are cool places, but Forsaken doesn't tend to patrol their firehouses. However, she was swinging by in the evening along towards a meeting she'd arranged with a snitch in Harrisburg. She had just reached the apex of a swing and then flung out her cape to glide until aiming her next grapple shot. But... the mighty thuds of Paragon's punches is difficult to miss.

She twists while gliding, and fires her grapnel off to reel herself in towards the current confrontation. She drifts down and ends up climbing once more. Swinging is a parabolic mode of travel, not linear of course.. and she flings out her glider wings to drift in to land atop the firehouse's roof... absorbing the shock of landing by flexing her knees a bit. For the moment, she's observing. One should never just charge in without -any- knowledge of the goings on. She does however, wince when Mal's body is used as a portable heavy bag.

Watching from cover of alley, the red cloaked figure that Starfish sometimes pretends to be crouches and gazes at the monster configured in a similar manner to Third (who is presumably accepted among those present). Rather than making some kind of obvious show of power, she sees what happens when the person everyone seems so upset with existing believes he has what he wants. Whatever that might be.

From left field a sleek groomed golden retriever bounds into view moving at a full run yelping frantically. The bitch is heading straight for Paragon. A few yards away from the armored heroine the bitch leaps, and morphs in mid-air into a featureless blob. Slapping against Paragon's flank the blob deforms like a water balloon hitting the sidewalk and then flows over Paragon's entire body as if a living fluid. A moment later the blob, now covering Paragon, changes again and Paragon, slightly bulkier, is encased in a perfect reproduction of a classic Ironman armor. Eighth seems oblivious to unseen things and turns to the lurking Shoro. It raises a hand and projects a crimson beam at him. Like with Malcolm, it encompasses him. Now it has two of them.

Paragon cringes behind her faceplate as she ends up striking Malcolm, trying her best to pull her punch. "Mal! I'm sorry!" She gets splattered by some sort of ooze, then quickly recognized Chen's practiced maneuver. Which should give her other fighting options now. "Let them go," she commands Eighth as she tries to grab for him. As she does so, she tries to send out an emergency message out over her network.

Paragon's misjudged how to move with Chen Overarmor. She's just not fast enough for Eighth's reflexes. Not by a long shot.

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << Para sends out an urgent, worried networked message. "Sweetie! It's Eighth! He's back! Are you alright?!" >>

Paragon hears Porter's voice inside her head: << He's still getting used to her calling him. "I'm fine. Wait. WHAT?!! Where are you?! Get out of there!" >>

Seeing that Mal was used as basically a held shield. Forsaken shakes her head. She whips her grapple gun up and fires it at Malcolm... where, with a twist, she gets it wrapped about his torso and shoulders. Then... she simply loops the cable over the edge of the roof and drops down off the back of the building... curling herself under the lip there to use the building itself as leverage. There, she gives a mighty yoink. Giving until it hurts, so to speak.

Telepathic message from Paragon to Porter: << She feels some relief as she finds out he's okay. "I'm...I'm alright. Chen's here protecting me. But he's got Malcolm and Shoro. I can't just leave them. Sweetie...what if he know about Kysmette...?" There's real fear there. A cold dread in the pit of her stomach. "You need to go to social services. Make sure she's safe." >>

Well, Malcolm is not only plucked from the tractor field, he's yoinked (to use technical terms) back to the rooftop and Forsaken the Man-Stealer.

Malcolm's eyes aren't quite open and his brain is still sluggish when he ends up in the arms of Forsaken, THE MAN-STEALER! He grunts and languidly waves a hand in the general direction Paragon was in as he comments, "Nnrrgh. It's fine, P. I probably deserved whatever it was."

With the first attempt being a failure, Starfish tries a different method. Atop one of the roofs what appears to be a man dressed in military fatigues and carrying a light anti-tank weapon pops up, taking aim at Eighth. Which then fires!

Eighth notices the incoming heavy weaponry and generates another energy field for protection.

Upon impact, the rocket certainly feels like it would have hurt, but the energy field stands firm against it. The vibrations and noise it generates are all very convincing.

Malcolm dazedly comes around, finding himself on the roof of the fire house. He blinks once or twice before there is an earth shattering KABOOM from inside of the building. "WHAT THE WHAT?!" The tall man scrambles to his feet as he reacts to the shuddering and shaking of the structure under him. When it passes, though, he frowns at the lack of signs of damage to... Well. Anything.

Scooting down the roof at a probably reckless pace, Malcolm manages to launch himself out over the edge of the roof. He sweeps his arms out to either side of his body, a metal membrane filling in the gap between his arms and body as he simply glides out into space, swooping quickly around so that he's aimed back into the fire house.

Seeing the barrier up and the missile impact doesn't deter or worry Paragon. She needs to get her friends away from Eighth. That's all that matters for the moment. Taking a few steps forward, Paragon tries to spear her hand through the barrier and push her way through to grab ahold of Shoro.

Shoro is done being held, he starts to glow blue again, in a flash and a pop he disappears for the moment of that flash, the next time he is seen, he has reported behind 8th elbow coming down on the top of his head inside the barrier still

This time, there is no fortuitous step. eighth is caught unawares and struck soundly. Enough that it is knocked face-first into the field to rebound and fall.

Seeing the barrier up and the missile impact doesn't deter or worry Paragon. She's not going to let her stop her from getting to Eighth and taking him down. Taking a few steps forward, Paragon tries to spear her hand through the barrier and push her way through so she can literally stomp Eighth into the ground.

The sounds of crunching metal and cracking pavement accompany Paragon STOMP! Eighth's crimson-lit sections flicker and dim. It no longer seems keen to stand up. Or move.

Shoro is breathing hard and is ready to strike again, but he sees the lights go out in 8th helm, and he kneels, if he is like third, the armor is exoskeleton and might be able to be removed..."Paragon! Stop!" he says in a hurry...

Malcolm glides in through the bay doors of the fire house garage just in time to see Paragon STOMP Eighth into the ground and/or submission. Whistling sharply, Malcolm calls, "And here I thought you said this guy was the freaking devil," as he lands on the ground. Those metal foil wings retreat back under Malcolm's clothing as he starts walking toward Paragon, Shoro, and Eighth. Liquid biometal starts to sweat out of Malcolm's hands as he draws near, stretching out into enormous, sharp-looking claws.

"Someone call for a can opener?"

Paragon lifts her foot off of Eighth after grinding him into the pavement. She's already raising her fist and ready to strike again. To end the threat to her loved ones. But Shoro gets in the way. And tells her to stop. Her fist stays cocked back and trembles. After all the evil she's seen Eighth do. Mechaneer. Event Horizon. And every time she's shown mercy, only to let them hurt others down the road. She internally struggles with what she should do.

From the wreckage of the LAW rocket impact, the debris that appeared to exist, Starfish in her red cloaked identity makes herself apparent. The pieces and charred spots seem to form up into her, leaving her standing there and the area looking as it did prior to impact. "Hello," she says.

Shoro looks up, "Metal man, if you can pry him out of the armor, do it..." he looks back at Third, "Integrity and honor is not malleable...Decide who you are! ?

Shoro looks up, "Metal man, if you can pry him out of the armor, do it..." he looks back at Third, "Integrity and honor is not malleable...Decide who you are! Mitsuko!"

Paragon's own eyes dim at Shoro's words. Her hand relaxes and her fist opens, before her arm drops down to her side. "I know who I am," she says decidedly. She takes a knee to help restrain Eighth for Malcolm, in case the cyborg wakes up.

Climbing into the barrier through the hole Paragon ever so helpfully left behind, Malcolm stoops over Eighth. He looks over at Shoro and drily comments, "Either call me Forge or call me Malcolm. Metal Man is weak to his own damn weapon."

The metal man spares Paragon a sideways glance when Shoro calls her "Mitsuko", but doesn't seem inclined to comment on that. Instead, Malcolm simply sets to work with those big fragging metal claws.

With the immediate threat to Paragon at least temporarily ended the Ironman armor melts off Paragon and flows over to the unmoving Eight where it forms itself into thick and heavy manacles securing Eight's hands and feet.

The appearing red-cloaked Starfish seems intrigued at the utter lack of reaction to her presence. "So uh... what's the story here?" she asks.

The armor takes some effort to remove, though it does come free. With force and cutting that suggests it isn't normally meant to. If it bled, it might be from the proess. Beneath is a lithe form with pale, heavily scarred flesh.

Shoro does ignore the woman in red, focused on the now de-armored 8th, "is he alive?"

Shoro's hands start to glow...

Paragon has managed to calm down now that the fight is over and Eighth is restrained. As the armor is peeled away, she goes back into business/her mode. "We should get Allison right away. See if she can access his control chip and deactivate it so he can finally be free." She looks to Shoro as his hands start to glow. She shifts her grip to help reinforce the manacles that are Chen, should the need arise. When she's ready, she gives Shoro a nod for the go ahead.

Malcolm may not be ignoring the woman in red. He does not, however, acknowledge her until he's done peeling layers of armor off of Eighth's body. The tall man's claws retract and he turns slowly to face Starfish. "Power armored zombie trying to recycle Paragon and, apparently, me," replies Malcolm to Starfish, "What're you doing here, cowss?"

"Helping, I suppose," the red cloak says, or the girl under it at least. "The name game ended. Facet is what now to speak in reference to me." She inclines her head. "You seem disturbed at my presence. I don't often hear those words spoken." Shoro places an open palm on 8th shoulder and head, infusing it with chi... Forsaken has connected.

Since Forsaken fell behind the firehouse in her bid to free Malcolm and yoink him up onto the Station's rooftop... Her glider cape flared out to break her fall and retracted her grapnel. She basically landed and strolled about to the front. She watched the heroes win their fight and figured she didn't want to be the cook that made too many for the stew. So she simply observed and kept a watchful eye to insure firefighters were not injured by accident. But with the giant manacles on the guy, she steps up and asks in a mildly distorted voice. "Seriously, he has tractor beams and all kinds of other abilities... you think cuffing the guy is going to be the way to restrain him?" To those who might be able to tell, she is almost -overflowing- with ki (or Chi if you call it that).. seeping it from her very pores...

"Well, I figured he couldn't tractor beam anyone with his armor cut off," comments Malcolm. He gestures at the pile of armor he's collected out of Eighth's immediate reach.

"He had styling similar to you." says Forsaken towards Paragon. "Similar, but not the same. So... if you had your armor removed, would you lose the ability to leap or strike?" she asks Paragon. "No, I'd still be able to do that. But I'd lose the protection and weapons systems from my armor, if they were still active. If he's like Mechaneer's other creations, the organic component is a metahuman's remains, amplified and expanded upon with the cybernetics," Paragon explains. "He's a much newer model than me."

Shoro frowns..."I don't know...he's not alive. but that might mean nothing. Third..is he operating?"

Paragon glances over at the powered down armor that's been cut up into pieces, then at the scarred body. "I can't tell."

Malcolm scratches at his chin with one hand, his other hand rummaging through the armor whilst Shoro works on the patient. The tall man looks back over at Paragon and Shoro for a few moments before looking back at the armor. "Interesting," mutters Malcolm, still examining the armor thoughtfully.

A small face appears on the manacles, "Can we get him somewhere secure, like Starguard? I don't know if I can hold him if he tries to escape." the face says in Chen's voice.

"My guess is the armor is just that, armor. The abilities demonstrated are likely within the body. Nicely done putting him down by the way." offers Forsaken. She shakes her head and looks to the talking manacles, "Yeah. Good luck with that." She adds as she lifts her hand, grapple gun held in it... and then fires it before retracting and having herself hauled up up and away.

"No, there's a lot of stuff in the armor. It's kinda cool, actually," comments Malcolm. And then he realizes Forsaken is no longer there. "I swear, I need to start hanging bells on you people," he mutters grouchily as he gets to his feet. "Yeah, yeah. I'll call in the cavalry. I'm on it," Malcolm answers Chen, looking around for Fireman Bill or, at least, the telephone.

Shoro nods "Chen is right we need to secure hom"

Paragon looks to Malcolm. "I can carry him there pretty quickly. Kind of like how I dropped in last time at Starguard. If Starguard can be prepared to take him in," she suggests.

"I know, I know. Just give me a sec to call it in," replies Malcolm. He makes a show of patting himself down before intoning, "I lost my PDA somewhere between the lights going out and me ending up on the roof."

Paragon's eyes dim as she cringes within her helm. "Sorry about that again, Malcolm. I tried to pull back. You're okay, right?" she asks apologetically. Porter takes Eighth.

"I'll be fine," replies Malcolm. He smiles and shoots Paragon a double thumbs up. Malcolm turns back around, stumbles over his own two feet, and recovers in time to discover the station house's landline. Trying to take his day in stride, Malcolm calls the Starguard switchboard and starts reciting your standard cop identifying stuff so he can schedule a drop off of an undead - but possibly now dead - body for holding.

With the excitement over and her part in things less than clear, Starfish-Facet makes her exit, vanishing in a flash and a flurry of rose petals. Paragon begins to carefully pick up the remains of Eighth, while Chen has his limbs secured. Her eyes flicker blue and she scans the city, trying to locate Starguard and plot her leaping trajectory as she waits for Malcolm to give her the word. Porter has disconnected.

Meanwhile, on a distant rooftop, Forsaken reaches into her belt pouch and extracts her prize. Well, not prize so much as something she caught sight of and absconded with on her way out. A PDA... password protected. This should at least be fun to figure out the owner of.