Log:Crosstime Apocalypse, Scene 3

Crosstime Apocalypse 2014/01/24 	 Porter Forge Hardcase Silverback

4

Champions Mush - Friday, January 24, 2014, 8:30 PM

At the knock, the door explodes outwards, showering Porter and Malcolm with little bits of wood. A ten foot tall white gorilla shoves himself through the doorway into the street and thumps his chest angrily.

It's entirely possible that Malcolm was going to say something to Porter when the door decided to explode. What it may have been is now a mystery for the ages as the tall man jerks his body backward a half-step reflexively as wood flinders rain all over his face and torso - fortunately finding no purchase in his flesh or his heavy winter coat. Tipping his head to one side, Malcolm looks very seriously at the gorilla and intones, "I don't suppose we can talk this out, can we?"

Porter didn't know what to expect, but neither exploding door nor extra-large white gorillas were very high on the list. The lacrosse ninjas would've been better, he thinks. "Um, hi."

Silverback swipes at Porter, a massive fist backhanding the much smaller man.

So much for manners. Porter only now starts to stumble back, but it's just barely enough to kepp white hairy knuckles from clobbering him.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," comments Malcolm as Das Ape swings at Porter. The tall man waits until the ape fist has swung past to barge forward, liquid metal surging over his body starting with his lead fist and spreading across his body in a wave. As Malcolm swings for the gorilla's gut, his leading fist *CRACK*s as the metal hardens into a solid iron fist that Malcolm aims to smash into the ape's midsection.

Malcolm's fist impacts the massive beast, and does appear to have some effect, but much less than one would expect on a gorilla, even a giant one.

Porter steps back another step. There are alot of things he could say, but should he really be all that surprised? His shuffling step kicks up remnants of the door, some of which are pulverized into sawdust. This makes a little cloud that rises up high in the doorway, or what's left of it.

Silverback roars with frustration as a little thing like a cloud of sawdust blinds it. He tries to swipe at its eyes to clear them but doesn't make the effect any better.

Forge whistles as his Iron Fist impacts gorilla gut and just... Hangs. The metal man backs away a half-step as Porter starts kicking up a cloud of sawdust, letting the cloud erupt past him. As the giant white gorilla rubs at its eyes, Forge's iron-encrusted hand crackles and snaps as the iron starts to liquefy again, flowing steadily into the shape of a sledgehammer.

"Alright. Let's try this again, shall we?"

Whirling the sledgehammer around quickly, Forge aims to *SLAM* it down into the gorilla's forehead with all due force.

The white beast is knocked off its feet, but seems more annoyed than stunned by the blow. It quickly hops back up and takes a swipe at the source of its pain, swinging blindly ... and missing widely.

Porter doesn't want to be in the midst of swinging fists, hammers, or other heavy objects. "Guess I shouldn't have knocked first?" he wonders aloud as he backpedals.

Silverback not noticing Porter's departure, makes another swipe at Malcolm.

Silverback smacks Forge hard enough to send a lighter man flying a body-length away, but with little visible effect on the metal hero.

Porter winces as Forge is smacked. Maybe the ape's knuckles or nails are really hard? They might have even struck a spark off of Forge's metal body. Normally, this isn't a big deal. Too bad the rupturing of the door also happened to fracture a gas line that happens to run through the wall right next to it. That little spark is just enough to ignite the stream of flammable gas into an intense, but brief, narrow jet of fire near the doorway.

Silverback howls angrily as its pristine white fur is singed by the unexpected blast.

A giant gorilla hand smashes into Forge's chest with a terrific *WHOOM*. Blinking a few times, Forge looks at the dent in his metal hide that's already starting to pop itself out then looks back up at the great white ape. "Oh no," mock-weeps Forge, "You've dealt me a mortal blow!"

Fire promptly erupts next to Forge, which makes the metal man yelp in surprise. Swinging the sledgehammer around, Forge keeps his distance from the stream of flaming gas even as he attempts to drill his mighty hammer into the gorilla's skull again.

This blow is mighty enough to send even this giant flying backwards into the building with a loud crash. White Ape lands on all fours after bouncing off the wall of the building and shakes its head blearily.

Porter says, ""Oh, sure, tick it off more!" Not that Porter has any idea if it can understand what they're saying. Still, he's not sure it's not just some big misunderstanding. Maybe it's a guard ape, and Porter gave the wrong knock?

Porter eyes the wall the ape just impacted, and more material falls from the already damaged structure above the ape."

The section of wall mainly falls on the blinded beast's long arms, pinning them momentarily.

"Oh man. This is a hell of a thing," comments Forge as the wall partially collapses on the gorilla. The metal man jogs toward the gorilla and swings his sledgehammer around overhead as he draws near. With a massive swing, Forge attempts to render the great ape insensate.

Forge's hammer blow sends the trapped gorilla flying backwards like a golf ball instead of a ten foot tall humanoid. Again, it hits the wall, and again it falls forward, but this time, instead of landing on all fours, it lands in an undignified unconscious heap.

"That was an unexpected work out," comments Forge to no one in particular. The metal man lets the head of his sledge *WHUD* against the floor and he leans against its haft as he takes a breather. Forge glances around the interior of the building, since he's got a moment to survey his surroundings now, and offers a speculative, "Hm."

"Yeah..." Porter walks back towards Forge, the heap of white fur, and the now somewhat more ventilated laboratory. "That was different. Don't think I've run into a ticked off white gorilla before."

"I heard this town had a primate predicament," Forge notes to Porter, "But whew. Never thought it'd show up like that."

Forge straightens up, his sledgehammer oozing back into the metal mass of his body. The metal man takes a few steps this way and that, studying the interior of the lab curiously whilst he goes.

Porter blinks. "A primate problem? Like... ticked off white apes?" That would've been worthwhile information. "I don't think this was his quarter, but it sure wanted to get here." He looks around a little, too. Since he came all the way here.

The interior of the building appears to be a narrow corridor with a metal door at the far end. A side wall has slid back and retracted to open the hall to a cage or holding cell with straw on the floor. The metal band about the gorilla's head seems to be intact, but the little lights on it have gone off.

Forge shrugs at Porter. "That Monkey Island business. Psychic and hyper-intelligent primates," explains the metal man as he wanders around. Apparently satisfied that no more enraged apes are going to jump them, Forge stoops by the gorilla to inspect that thar metal band about its noggin.

There is a loud bang from beyond the metal door, followed by another.

"Oh, right." Porter nods, but he must have missed that episode of the news. "That one didn't seem so hyper-Ahh!" He startles at the sudden bang on the metal door, then points at it. "Think there might be more ticked off things in there."

before, with a grunt, he looks down the hall toward the door. "You want to hang out with Harry here while I go see who's knock-knock-knocking at the door?"
 * BANG* Forge leaps up and back from the gorilla, suspiciously eyeballing it

The ten foot tall gorilla doesn't stir at the noise.

Mystery banging of metal versus unconscious gorilla. Porter shrugs. "Sure. If that's knocking, it's way bigger than me..."

Shooting a thumbs up to Porter, Forge starts strolling down the hallway. He moves at a comfortable pace, not quite fast, but certainly not slow either. Just the sort of pace where you can cover ground while still being cautious. No telling when that metal door's going to come sailing down the hallway. Or, y'know, if Forge's going to trip some kind of trap.

Through the window, Forge spots a androgynous youth with short blue hair strapped down to a metal table with electrodes attached all over her body and some type of goggles strapped over her eyes. She has somehow gotten one booted foot loose and is banging it on the table. Beside her, some type of large apparatus is doing a digital countdown.

Porter tries to keep one eye on the sleeping Magilla and one on Forge. This means he's moving his head alot. "See anything? Like one of his angry friends trying to get out?"

"Blue-haired, uh, person strapped down to a table. Digital countdown beside hi- err, he- err... Them," calls Forge. He moves one hand to try the door while his other hand presses, flat-palmed, against the central mass of the metal door. Forge starts to control his breathing as he tries to open the door.

"Damnit!" That explains a few of the mostly unexplainable things. "Since she's not springing some kind of trap, she was probably calling for help!" Counters counting down are usually bad things, too. He leaves the white ape to its dozing and heads for Forge and the door.

"You know them?" calls Forge as he plants both of his hands, palms flat, on the door. He closes his eyes and draws in a deep, slow breath as his metal flesh starts to spread across the door and slowly take on the same coloration as the door itself.

Porter tries to peek over Forge and the through the window, without getting in the way of whatever he's doing. "Yeah, I know her." Last time they met she was bait for a trap, but Porter's pretty sure she turned things around since them.

There is an awful creaking sound as Forge's metal membrane seems to synchronize with the door. Metal starts to groan and creak ominously as the center-line of the door, from the glass window down, begins to roll outward to either side of the center on both sides of the door. "Think you can get her free once we're through the door?" inquires Forge as he continues to peel back layers of metal door.

Once the door begins to warp, a loud beeping noise can now me heard. The beeping sounds start building up speed and Hardcase starts kicking harder on the metal table.

"Probably. Why is that thing counting down?" Porter hates countdowns after having to deal with all those bombs. Hey, wait! Maybe what worked for them will work on that, too. He focuses on the machine. All it takes is one little short, bug, or maybe something vibrated loose from all her kicking.

As soon as Porter concentrates on the machine, he feels a weird 'sucking' sensation and the beeps suddenly double in speed! Hardcase screams behind her gag in either anger, frustration or panic as the device kicks into high gear!

With a final torturous shriek of protesting metal, the door's middle is peeled completely open. Forge scoots through the door just as Porter starts to concentrate on the machinery. "Because it's a villainous trap, Porter. Get her off the slab, I'll deal with the machine," intones the metal man as he makes his way toward the beeping, counting down machine.

"I think I-nnngh..." Porter starts to sound excited, then immediately switches to confused and light-headed. He stumbles back a step and clutches his head. "Damnit... We got to. Get her. Off of it. Ow." If it's doing to her what he just felt, he can't blame her for kicking like that. He wouldn't want that for anybody, count downs or not. "Ok... I'll get her..." He steadies himself.

"... Huh. This is the weirdest damned thing," comments Forge to no one - everyone? - in particular as he carefully examines the machine. The metal man circles it quickly, first checking the display and then very quickly checking the machine for hidden compartments or otherwise concealed anything. "Try not to touch the wires, Port. Machine might be feeding off of her."

"It is!" Porter is pretty sure of that. Screw the wires. He's try and get the electrods off of her, first. Then he'll worry about getting the restraints and goggles off. Hopefully she won't kick him in the process. Just to try and help with that, he tells her, "It's me. We're getting you out of here. Don't worry."

The electrodes are applied to Hardcase's skin with simple duct tape and come off easily. Upin removing the wires, the superspeed countdown slows to standard speed again, but doesn't stop. Obviously, it has a battery to store ... whatever energy powers it.

"Thirteen seconds to improbability event" says a recorded voice, somewhere inside.

Finding no well-hidden flammables or explosives - or, really, anything else - Forge tightens his fingers around a suddenly appearing block of steel in the palm of his hand. As he adjusts his grip, the metal extends outward and curves ever so exquisitely into the general shape of a katana. The metal man spins the blade around quickly before attempting to drive it through the machine.

Porter grumbles as he works on the restraints with the timer announcing itself. "This just keeps getting better and better. We've got to hurr-" Then Forge stabs the thing, and Porter just cringes.

Forge's katana slices through the counting down machine. All the lights shut off and some type of glowing ice-blue liquid starts oozing from hoses inside the device and out over the floor. As far as Forge can tell, the device is simply broken, but both Porter and Hardcase flinch like they have been slapped.

"That was entirely too close," comments Forge as he eyes the apparently deactivated machine. He also eyes the glowing icy blue liquid oozing out of the equipment and along the edge of his katana. The metal man leaves the blade embedded in the machinery for now, looking over his shoulder at Porter and Hardcase with an inquisitive expression etched into his features.

"Are you alright?" Porter asks after he recovers from the karmic concussion. At least this is one of those stings that lets him know he's still alive, rather than the weird, numbing draining sensation. He saves moving the goggles for last, just because they weren't holding her down to anything.

As soon as she gets a hand free, Hardcase says as she rips off the goggles over her eyes, "Where is that chubby, goggled freakazoid? I'll kill him!" Spotting Porter and Forge alone in the room, she turns on Porter, "And what the heck took you so long? I sent out a call for help *weeks* ago!"

"That depends," offers Forge, staring at Hardcase, "Was "that chubby, goggled freakazoid" a giant, white-furred gorilla with glowing red eyes and a stylish metal headband?"

Porter shrugs a little sheepishly. "Trying to figure out what it meant? Sorry. Took me a while to bring it back near here. So it could do its thing. Are you Ok?" He asks again. After Forge brings that up, he nods and adds, "The big ape is out cold, if that's what you mean."

Hardcase wimpers a bit as she works stiff muscles that haven't moved in weeks, but goes through a series of stretching exercises with dogged determination anyway. "No," she says after a bit, "the scientist who originally hired me to 'take a few readings."

"Haven't run into that guy," answers Forge. He casts a sidelong glance at the machine and his katana again, considering both for several seconds. Grunting, Forge's metal starts to recede into his body once more, leaving a merely tall Malcolm Gibbs standing in a pool of glowing ice blue fluid. "If you can fill me in on some more details, maybe I can run him down and heave him into a dark cell for you."

Hardcase starts to provide a description and, slowly, it becomes apparent to Porter that he has met this guy too.

"Huh," Porter nods, and starts frowning. "I met the guy. I think I've got his card somewhere. Wanted to do some testing, but I guess I kind of blew him off." That now seems to prove it was a good thing. He looks to Hardcase apologetically. "Sorry I took so long. Didn't get it at first."

The glowing blue liquid bubbles without heat and soon evaporates into nothingness.

Hardcase holds out her hand to Porter. "Ahem. I think you have something of mine."

"Awesome," Malcolm drily comments as he notices the glowing blue fluid boiling off. He absently rubs his chin and mutters something about "insufficient atmosphere" whilst he puzzles over something inwardly. "I don't suppose you know what that thing was supposed to do, by any chance?"

Porter fishes in his pocket and pulls out an large silver dollar. Definitely not a new one. He holds it up for Hardcase to see before handing it over. "It's some kind of probability sucker, I think." Yes, that's the official technical term from an unofficial technician and his diagnosis.

Hardcase takes the ancient silver dollar, starts to say something snide, then settles on, "Thanks."