Small Laboratory <SL>

The interior of this laboratory is somewhat claustrophobic, not only in square feet, but the windows are also shuttered much of the time. Whatever goes on in this place, the owner does not want it to be anyone's business. The front portion of the building is a small waiting room, complete with a receptionist's booth. Perhaps at one time, this place was a clinic of some sort. Threadbare but clean burnt-orange carpeting and beige walls flesh out the bland decor of this front room.

The back portion of the office, however, is entirely different. It is part laboratory, part classroom, and part dorm room. There's a computer station that's always on, an old-fashioned chalkboard on one wall (with equations written all over it), several lab tables with machines and various chemical experiments in progress, an old wooden study desk with what appears to be Russian textbooks spread across it, and a few bookshelves of scientific reference manuals in both Russian and English. In the corner of the room, a twin bed is set up and neatly made. There's a few posters on the walls, closet and bathroom doors...mostly of young Russian hockey and soccer stars, though there's a few beefcake pictures taped up of some egotistical-looking Mexican fellow as well.

Contents:

Kalinka

It's a quiet early Sunday afternoon. Bowie chooses to spend his time tearing out the old burnt-orange carpet lining what used to be the reception area. By pulling back a corner earlier in the week, he discovered that the original tile was still intact beneath. While black and white checkers isn't exactly the height of fashion, it beats the current color scheme.

The front door opens, and in steps Kalinka carrying a few cans of paint. It's probably going to take a little bit more work than a few cans of paint to make this 'house' a home, but it's a start. As she spots Bowie, she grins and asks... "What is under the carpet? Trap door, leading to treasure?"

Bowie gives Kalinka a faint smile as she comes in. He seems to be in better spirits today than he's been in a while. "No, jus tile floorin." He peels back the section of carpet he's cut, revealing the checkered pattern. "Though Ah guess we could put in a trapdoor fer unwelcome visitors."

Kalinka chuckles, stepping over to peer over Bowie's shoulder at the floor beneath the carpeting. "Well, what do you know? I never knew that was there. It looks a lot better than the carpet! Here, Vitaliy had some paint left over from a restoration job he helped with earlier in the year, so if we want to repaint this place, maybe we can."

Bowie says teasingly, "Tired a beige, huh?" Rrrrrip! goes the carpet, then gets rolled up and tossed in an empty corner. "Tell him thankee fer me. Whut color is it?"

Kalinka pauses for a moment, blinking. "..." (That carpet would have taken me half the day to pull up,) she thinks in wry amusement. "Uhm...some kind of minty green, but light, really light. It is a positive color. We will get this place in shape." She grins fondly. "Hey, you know...did you want me to fix your hair? Like, to the way it was?"

Bowie may not be the strongest reploid on the block, but he does well enough. He moves on to the next strip of carpet, cutting a line through it with a utility knife. "Meybe later," he says amiably. "Least right now it's not gettin in the way." Which is true enough, though she's seen him tuck his ponytail under his shirt collar to keep it out of things. "Talked with Zero last night."

Kalinka nods, having a seat on the floor nearby with her back resting against the wall. "Yeah? Can I be nosey and ask how it went?"

Bowie continues with what he's doing as they talk. "Ah'm still considered a Hunter in good standin, in spite a mah movin out." He quirks a wry smile. "Said he's not one t'talk, considerin how often he's pulled disappearin acts. Thank he unnerstands mah reasons fer not wantin t'show mah face on base fer a while." Rrrrrrip! "He's also goin t'talk to Cossack about his tryin t'make personnel decisions."

Kalinka is a little bit confused at first, probably because the way Bowie pronounces 'personnel' is a lot like the way he pronounces 'personal'. "His...decisions, you say?" she prompts hesitantly. "Okay, then...well it sounds very much like Zero is also feeling the same way Mike is about this, perhaps. You know, that is good. There is no reason at all why you should be in any kind of trouble."

Bowie nods. "Frum whut Ah've gathered, people aren't real happy with him right now." Another section of carpet sucessfully removed. The tile lying underneath is going to need cleaning, but it doesn't look like any glue was used to anchor the carpet to it. "Ah'm not in trouble, no. Ah'm still available fer missions, jus not fer base operations. Until thangs are settled between Cossack an me, stayin away from Sam Houston is safest fer erryone."He pauses, both with words and in his work. "Dunno how much consolation this is, but it sounds like yer not banned frum the Hunters fer life. Least, whut Cossack said to ya wus news to Zero."

Kalinka smirks. "It figures," she mumbles in a low tone as she pulls a few french fries out of what appears to be a Happy Meal box. "Well to be honest, I am not even going to think about going back until he finishes out what is left of his natural life span. Because it would be like...all hell breaking loose again if I were to go back. I think he -said- that to mean just...me, if you know what I am saying. He told me to never come back, but it is not a rule for anyone, it is only his rule for me. It does not need to be fair, or to make sense, because it is a Cossack rule." She chomps down on a french fry, then mentions: "Interpol has turned out to be pretty cool."

Bowie says "Ah unnerstand, sunshine. But Ah thought ya should know." He retracts the utility knife and sets it aside, then stands up and stretches. "So thangs are werkin out?" he asks hopefully.

Kalinka nods, grinning cutely. "I like my work. And the best part of it is...I get to do the things I have always done, but there is no pressure anymore. No one is leaning over me going...YOU WILL NOT FAIL, YOU WILL NOT DO THIS and so on. I feel...free. It is a free feeling. I have all I want, now. You, and...freedom to become an adult."

Bowie smiles. (yay!) "Well Ah'm not goin anywhare, an he can't take yer emancipation away." He brushes loose carpet fibers from his jeans. While he has decidedly mixed feelings about how she's doing her penance, if she's content with it, then he will endure.

"That is right," Kalinka says triumphantly. "Of course, I do regret what I did, that is not to say it was ever right in the first place. But this chance has become the best chance of all, and I do have to take it, warts and all. There are down sides to this. A lot of what I will do, for many years, is indebted completely to the UN. Kind of like...slavery, but it works out like a regular job I cannot quit for any reason."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Jet Stingray yawns. "Man, a day filled with bored. Fun."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Sasha transmits, "Good afternoon, Jet Stingray."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Jet Stingray transmits, "Sasha... Hey, how are you? You still up for hanging out? Haven't seen you in awhile so I wasn't sure..."

"Indentured servitude," Bowie supplies helpfully. He walks over to give her a hug. "If this is whut ya have to do, then we'll get through it."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Sasha transmits, "...I have been busy. But I'm still willing to 'hang out', if you would like, especially if you are as bored as I am."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Jet Stingray transmits, "Sweet. There is a new place I was hoping to try out in San Angeles I wanted to try."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Sasha transmits, "Shall we meet at the San Angeles teleporter, then?"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Stiletto Sterling transmits, "Have your fun and eat it, too."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Jet Stingray transmits, "Sounds liks a plan."

Kalinka snuggles against Bowie. "I love you, sweetie," she murmurs with a little smile. "And as long as you are in my life, I feel complete and I fear nothing at all." She lingers for a long moment, then adds, "Oh, there is something I wanted to tell you about, something odd..."

"Oh?" Bowie asks, raising an eyebrow in curiousity.

Kalinka nods. "I had the shortwave on," she mentions, "And a strange message came through." Yes, shortwave and ham radio is STILL used in this day and age, though its range is much, much broader thanks to improved technology. Most of the radio operators are in the rural or even 'third world' parts of the globe, though many of the first-worlders keep them around to browse the 'waves and find interesting broadcasts. "It did sound like...emergency transmission, but I could not understand it. It sounded like someone asking for you. I took down the callsign..."

Both eyebrows raise now. "Wusn't Miss Alia, wus it?" Bowie asks.

Kalinka shakes her head. "No, it was..." She goes over to check what she wrote down. "A40294G. That was the callsign he gave, but he was not speaking very much English, most of what he said was in Spanish. It was hard for me to understand. I think he said his name was...Ernesto Zayas, a-migo de...Hank Montoya."

That definitely gets Bowie's attention. After all, Hank is one of his closest friends outside the Hunters. "Do ya remember anythang he said?"

Kalinka admits, "He did not speak much English at all, he just kept repeating your callsign, and he said something that sounded like...peligro...and Lajitas. I am sorry, I did not know what that meant..."

[OOC] Kalinka chuckles, Peligro means danger. As for Lajitas...http://www.lajitas.com/

Bowie's lips twitch into a frown as he considers what this may mean. "Lajitas...that's down near the border. Real rugged country. Shortwave, ya said...remember whut band?"

Kalinka nods. "It was not an emergency band, it was...regular band, 384.29." This isn't an uncommon frequency, but it isn't usually reserved for emergencies. Perhaps someone made a mistake...or, didn't have time to find the right channel...

"Lemme call Hank," Bowie says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Meybe he can shed some light on this."

"Yeah, maybe he would know who this Ernesto guy is...I hope this was not some kind of emergency, please forgive me if it was...he was not using the right channel, and I could not understand what he was saying."

Bowie walks into the back area of the lab/residence, already calling up his friend. He has a seat while waiting for Hank to pick up...

Seems like Bowie's in luck, Hank is, in fact, home. "Hello?"

"Howdy. It's Bowie." Though he normally doesn't vocalize his radio transmissions, he does this time so that Kalinka can hear his half of the conversation. "Hate t'bother ya, but somethang may be up. Does the name 'Ernesto Zayas' ring a bell?"

"Yeah," Montoya says, sounding both surprised and puzzled as he answers. "Ernesto's an old friend of mine, he manages the only radio station in Lajitas -- real remote western border town. Haven't heard from him in a while, but then again, sometimes even satellite communications goes down in that area and it takes days to get the needed equipment in from Juarez or San Antoine, due to the remoteness. What made you bring up Zayas?"

Bowie quickly explains, "Kalinka heard a transmission over shortwave...she doesn't speak Spanish, so she didn't unnerstand most a it, except his name, that he's a friend a yers, mah name, an somethang about danger."

Bowie asides to Kalinka, "How long ago didja hear this?"

"Oh, not good," Hank groans.

"Ummm...this was just last night," Kalinka says, biting her lip with growing worry. She had no idea that anyone was in danger! She figured if anyone needed police or the fire department, they would call on the emergency frequency.

"Y'see," Hank continues, "I gave him your ham frequency for extreme emergencies, in the case he couldn't contact me or anyone else. I didn't think he'd ever actually use it...and he isn't the sort of guy who would use it frivilously. He's a retired Marine. I don't know what his trouble is, but...it can't be good."

Bowie's frown kicks up another notch. "Ya know of anything goin on that way?" he asks of his friend. "Kalinka says that this transmission took place last night. Ah wus...occupied...so Ah didn't hear it."

"There's not much -in- Lajitas, it's pretty remote and much of its draw is the fact that it's far away from the megacities. Can't reckon anyone would want to give Zayas trouble, he's a great guy. *pause* Hmm...he's not answering his personal frequency, either. Not like him at all, I can tell you that right now. And his station isn't broadcasting on its usual frequency, either. Seems to be off-air."

"Y'all want to handle it?" Bowie asks. It /is/ Ranger jurisdiction, after all, and he believes in professional courtesy. "Or ya druther Ah check it out?"

"I would, because I'm worried sick about him, but we've got our hands tied right now rescuing folks from a pretty serious flash flood incident...if you could check it out, I'd be much obliged," Hank says.

[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Bowie transmits, "Howdy. Anyone awake out thare?"

Bowie puts a quick call out across one of the Hunter frequencies, without response. Alia must be on her lunch break. Back to Hank. "Sure thang, amigo. Ah'll let ya know whut Ah find out."

"'Preciate it, Bowie," says Hank. "Lemme know."

[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Zero transmits, "I'm here, off duty, doin' a little shoppin'. I found some sweet toys..."

[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Stiletto Sterling transmits, "Really? By toys, do you mean the mechanically advanced equipment type or the human sensual play type or the little kids fun type?"

[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Stiletto Sterling transmits, "And, if you say all three, I'll have to arrest you..."

[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Bowie transmits, "..."

[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Sasha transmits, "...I am going to lunch. With Jet Stingray."

[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Stiletto Sterling makes sounds of chuckling* That blowhard? How's he been?

[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Zero transmits, "Ha ha ha ha! He's the Replidork version of me. You know, less attractive, less charismatic, and that fishy smell just totally ruins it."

[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Sasha transmits, "He is well."

[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Zero transmits, "Nice guy though, I wish he'd come over to our camp."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Bowie transmits, "Repliforce? Hunters? Anyone got thair ears on?"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Bolero transmits, "Yeah."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Stiletto Sterling transmits, "Yus."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Zero transmits, "We can take them off?"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Combat Medic, Portal transmits, "Interpol monitoring."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Bowie transmits, "Any reports a Master or Mav activity in Lajitas, Texas in the past couple a days?"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Zero transmits, "Not that I've heard."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Stiletto Sterling transmits, "Nor I, but I can look into it."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Combat Medic, Portal transmits, "My systems cannot find such activity logged."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Bolero transmits, "... Haven't heard of any from folks in the area."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Stiletto Sterling transmits, "Mmmn, then... why do you ask?"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Stiletto Sterling transmits, "What led you to believe in checking?"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Bowie transmits, "'Parently someone wus callin fer me across one a the shortband channels. Friend a a friend. Can't get a hold a him now. Ah'm goin t'check it out."

"Handsome? Do you want me to come along?" Kalinka asks.

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Combat Medic, Portal transmits, "Would you like some assistance?"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Stiletto Sterling transmits, "I suggest not going alone. Take a friend and a transport."

Bowie considers a moment, then shakes his head. "Thank ya better sit this one out, sunshine. Yer boss might not like mah takin ya along."

Kalinka nods, though she still looks worried. She heads over to Bowie to lean up and kiss his cheek. "Be careful. Please call if you need me to come help later. I will be right here."

Bowie returns the kiss. "Ah'll be careful," he assures her.

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Bowie transmits, "Assistance would be nice, but Ah don't need a whole army."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Stiletto Sterling transmits, "I can come on over on my bike. Would that do?"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Combat Medic, Portal transmits, "What is the convergence point?"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Bowie transmits, "That'll do. Meet me at these coords...(OOC: Texas room!)"

(And the gunslinger rides.)

Texas

Proud and independent minded, Texas is known as the Lone Star State, having once spent a short tenure as an independent nation before joining the United States. The second largest state besides Alaska, Texans are a fiercely proud people, who enjoy their steaks extra large and their music with country style. Much of the state is large expanses of plains and desert, though several small towns, large cities, and Mega-cities dot the landscape inbetween the vast stretches of emptiness. The heat is often above 100 in the summer, though the low humidity makes it not quite as noticeable.

Kalinka [Dmitriev] [C] El Paso

Submerge <D> leads to Underneath Gulf of Mexico.

Gulf <G> leads to Gulf of Mexico.

North <N> leads to Great Plains.

East <E> leads to Louisiana.

Southeast <SE> leads to Central Mexico.

Southwest <SW> leads to Mojave Desert.

West <W> leads to Southwest United States.

Up <U> leads to Sky Above Western United States.

Stiletto Sterling arrives from the Louisiana.

Interpol Heavy Transport <Magellan> arrives from the Southwest United States.

Interpol Heavy Transport <Magellan> has arrived.

[OOC] Bowie waves. Provides http://www.lajitas.com/ as a reference.

Interpol Heavy Transport <Magellan> sails in from the West, flying down to a much more managable height. A large reploid is let out of the ship, and the ship itself enters an orbital holding pattern.

Portal has arrived.

Lajitas, TX...a remote western town near the Rio Grande and the Mexican border, but not near very much else. It's isolated by towering mesas and hectares of rugged desert terrain. Today is a scorcher...the sand shimmers all the way to the horizon, nothing but clear blue skies and mesa peaks in every direction.

Today, Lajitas more closely resembles a ghost town than a sleepy villa. The charming, antiquated wooden buildings of Old Town are standing deathly silent to those arriving. There isn't a soul in sight. But there is...graffiti. A lot of graffiti, and smashed out windows. Gang trouble, perhaps?

If that's the case, then...where's the gang?

Vrring along over the dusty length of the horizon outside of town, steadily heading on in like a piece of the sun itself brought to life... Perhaps the Shiny Hunter wasn't the best choice to come to Texas, though highly likely to blind any offenders... just as likely to blind comrades as well, the hoverbike Shiny in underneath him no less as reflecting of the arid Texas climate's beating sun. He's heading on towards the coordinates Bowie'd laid out for him, intending to meet there ASAP.

Bowie travels along the dusty road leading west from Terlingua, which happens to have the closest commercial teleporter this side of the Mexican border. Both he and his bike are accustomed to the heat of the Texas desert, and he actually finds it a refreshing change from the chill of the Moscow autumn. The gunslinger stops just outside of town, waiting for whoever plans on joining the posse.

After departing his craft a short distance away, a green visor slides down part of Portal's face as he jogs toward the run-in point. His cross comes down onto his wrist, but is not extended

It is incredibly quiet in Lajitas. Too, too quiet to be normal. Windows are broken out. Strange grafitti mars the buildings and signs...'muerte a los maquinas' is quite common. Translation: Death to the machines.

Coming to a halt, sideswiping his hoverbike to a stationary position, the Shiny Hunter looks about slowly, spotting the closing form of his comrade, the gunslinger Bowie... and, it seems others decided to head on down... He watches, idly, while they close in to the meeting point as well.

Bowie's gaze is already on the town. What he sees brings a faint scowl to his face. He does not like this. Not one bit. "Death t'the machines," he says, translating the spray-painted scrawl in case neither Portal or Sterling know the language. He dismounts, slinging his rifle over one shoulder. "Mah guess is that some Mexicans crossed the river, so we better watch our step. Keep an eye out fer a feller named Ernesto Zayas. He's the friend a a friend Ah mentioned."

Portal looks around, nodding. He presses a few buttons on his wrist, and now is sporting a good six feet of red cross on his arm, like an arm-attached weapon. "The circumstances are prime for a tactical strike against us." He puts a hand over his ear. "I can have reinforcements here in no time flat, should we find ourselves outnumbered."

There's a sudden rrrrraakkk sound, but it's only a red-tailed hawk circling overhead...or is that a vulture?

On the corner near one of the few intersections in this town, the traffic signals continue to function automatically, turning red and green at regular intervals in each direction. But there aren't any vehicles to be found. Just a reploid, lying face-down in the street, his armor riddled with semi-automatic machine gun fire.

Dismounting from his hoverbike, Stiletto has just laid eyes upon the laid-out form on the streets, frowning... and, with a blink, he's over there without precursor, kneeling down to examine.... Ready to administer first aid (ha!) to the downed form, should it be possible.

Bowie's instincts are the same as the other Hunter's, although he's a tad more cautious about it. One hand rests on the butt of his e-pistol, eyes darting to watch as much of the surrounding buildings as possible as they approach the prone form lying in the street. He stands guard as Sterling looks the reploid over.

Portal stays back, shaking his head. "Like flies to the feast. That is likely either a diversionary measure, or an ambush setup." He kneels and uses his long-range scanner to look the reploid over from a medical standpoint.

Upon closer inspection, Sterling will notice that the reploid is quite dead...perhaps someone like Light or Cossack could bring him back in another form, but out here with his components baked and melted in the desert sun, there isn't much hope. This reploid is a dog-form, with basic armor equipped for manual factory labor.

Suddenly, there's a small click, and a small metal projectile is flung out of a second story window, hurtling directly toward where Sterling is crouched over the body.

Kalinka misses Stiletto Sterling with her Random Invention attack.

Impuslive actions are not something often taken by the Shiny Hunter... usually, the strategist tends to think out a situation, first, but.. when someone is laying wounded and hurt like this... he can't just stand idle. The sound of action, however, does catch his notice, not so unwary enough not to be unguarded. Snaring up the body, Stiletto moves rapidly, his agile form evading the lobbed projectile... He doesn't know who's attacking them, yet, but, suffice to say, he's not happy.

As Sterling dodges the projectile, it explodes, taking out a street sign with it. It was obviously some sort of grenade.

>From the second-story window, frantic male voices can be heard, conversing in rapid-fire Spanish.

Kalinka (Kali) pages: Bowie can hear: "Quick! The machines are back -- no time to waste, let's off the bastards!"

Bowie likewise moves back as the projectile is flung, raising his free arm to protect his face as the grenade explodes. His grip tightens on his pistol, but he doesn't draw it just yet. "<Hold your fire!>" he calls, switching to Spanish. "<We're here to negotiate!>" Negotiate /what/, he's not sure, but anything that can buy time.

Portal walks towards Stilleto calmly, his eyes scanning the buildings - not just the one that the fire came from - as he listens to Bowie. He understands Spanish, for sure, and steps a bit into the shadows of a building. Mentally, he relays to Bowie and Sterling that he "will be the silent support".

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Bowie transmits, "*grumbles* Looks like the Mexicans are movin north."

(Here, Stiletto's player has to leave. Pretend he went to look for other casualties.)

Stiletto Sterling has disconnected.

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Combat Medic, Portal transmits, "And slaying reploids. Not on my watch will this be permitted."

An angry voice comes from the second story window, yelled down toward the street, though no face in the window can be seen. Whoever's answering Bowie doesn't want to risk return fire. "<< Negotiate what?! What is there left to negotiate?? After the factory incident...we have nothing left to talk about, machine! It's about SURVIVAL. And we're coming out of this alive!! >>"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Bowie transmits, "Better we find out whut happened first."

Portal sends a radio transmission to Bowie.

[Radio] Portal sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "I have a primary loadout involving weapons that stun opponents. If you can keep them talking, I can take down their fringe security and arrest them."

Bowie neither confirms nor denies whether he's a reploid. "<Why don't you tell me what happened?>" he asks calmly, never mind the fact that he probably has several weapons trained on him right now.

Portal receives a radio transmission from Bowie.

[Radio] You send Portal a direct message: "All right. Jus be careful."

Portal smiles and nods, though not to Bowie. He's done the stealth song and dance before, though not trained for it. Arming his stunning pulse, he begins to slowly circle the area, searching for any sort of snipers, or any detatched group from who Bowie is speaking with. Should he find none, he will circle around to the back of the building where the fire came from.

Of course, these hidden assailants are making a lot of assumptions...not the least of which is that Bowie is in cahoots with the reploids he came into town with. These guys sound pretty scared, though. Scared, and enraged. "<< Don't play dumb with us!! Lots of good people died in that factory uprising...lots of good people, men and women. And then when that reploid who went mad recided to take things a step further, and begin recruiting -other- factory reploids to kill everyone in the town and take it over for the machines...we wouldn't have it! We're a proud bunch of people, you won't find it quite so easy to get rid of us. See...we killed your master. You're looking at what's left of him. If you know what's good for you, GET OUT OF TOWN! Or, you'll end up just like him! >>"

Portal senses no immediate sniper threats. Looks like the only humans left in town...alive, anyhow...are holed up in the building where the grenade was thrown.

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Bowie transmits, "Oh hell. We might have a Mav outbreak on our hands."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Combat Medic, Portal transmits, "The thought had occured to me. Shall I call in the troops and put them on standby?"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Andrew Creeves transmits, "What are they doing now?"

Portal sends a radio transmission to Bowie.

[Radio] Portal sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "Keep them talking. I'll handle the radios."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Combat Medic, Portal transmits, "Militants in Texas claim that reploids went crazy at their factory. Scent of Maverick, but we're not definate yet."

Psychogenesis arrives from the Mojave Desert.

Psychogenesis has arrived.

"<I'm not here to hurt you, and I'm not leaving until I get some answers. I'm Texan, same as you,>" Bowie says, "<and I understand pride. Pretend I don't know anything about the factory, and tell me your side of the story.>"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Andrew Creeves transmits, "Or they just didn't plug in the Sanity Chip in yet. I'll go online and see if I can find a way to hack into their security cameras or something."

Portal approaches the back end of the building, and searches for the back door. Finding it, he prepares his stun weapons and waits for Bowie's heads-up before entering.

The scene is a west Texas town near the Rio Grande called Lajitas. And it is a town in peril, besieged by angry factory reploids. It's been said that one spark can start a fire that can burn down a forest. One small incident, likewise, has ignited passions in this town to a burning inferno.

At the moment, Portal and Bowie are near a particular building in Lajitas. In front of the two-story structure is a dead reploid, a dog-form, face down on the burning pavement, riddled with bullet holes. Bowie is having a conversation with someone who's yelling down from the second-story window, and Portal is locating a back door to the structure. "<< How can we trust you, after all the killing?? >>" yells the man. "<< The factory is the livelihood of most people in this area. It was a garment factory...located near the radio tower. It was all fine, until yesterday, then everything went to hell! >>"

Portal sends a radio transmission.

[Radio] Portal sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "I'm in position. Fire off some sort of speech and I'll insert."

Andrew Creeves arrives from the Great Plains.

Andrew Creeves has arrived.

Portal receives a radio transmission from Bowie.

[Radio] You send Portal a direct message: "Hold up. Ah'm goin t'try an get them to surrender. If it don't work, then go in."

Bowie decides to take a gamble. "<My name is Bowie Peacemaker,>" he says, laying out his credentials, "<formerly of the Texas Rangers, currently of the Maverick Hunters. If you don't want to trust me, that's your business. But I'd rather we talk this out like civilized folk. You put down your guns, I'll lay down mine, and I promise that we will do whatever it takes to bring the murderers to justice. But I can't do that if you're going to insist on shooting me.>"

Portal sends a radio transmission to Bowie.

[Radio] Portal sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "Roger that."

Portal holds at his position and does not move for anything. Except, yanno, if he gets shot at.

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Andrew Creeves transmits, "The place doesn't have a connection to the internet that I can find, or it might be an antiquated system."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Combat Medic, Portal transmits, "Andrew, patch in to my audio and visual. The reference is on-file."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Andrew Creeves transmits, "Will do..."

There's a short amount of quiet discussion coming from the second-floor window...and then, two faces can be seen at the window, peering down at Bowie. They look like Mexican youths, maybe 18 to 24 years old. "<< ...You really aren't with him? >>" One of them asks tenatively. Things are beginning to look promising for a compromise.

Overhead, a small bird of prey--the infamous vulcher--soars casually. It's quite common to see them circling areas such as this, so it would come as no suprise, more than likely, that the creature would be there.. However.. what is strange is his intended target. After a long period of circling, the vulcher drops from the sky--landing three paces from the fallen canine-reploid body. The bird hops a few times, moving until it perches on the machine's back.. and then his powerful beak slams down, digging right into one of the bullet holes. The bird stresses for a moment, as if trying to pry something out; then... it simply collapses, falling off of the reploid and landing beside him--silently. As if this all weren't odd enough, feathers from the bird were somehow seperated.. and the bird even begin to bleed. Strange.

Bowie almost starts as the vulture dives in to feast. No doubt it will be disappointed....and its collapse doesn't overly surprise him. Must have hit a still-active power cable. Besides, the youths and their guns understandably have a higher pritority. "< I'm not,>" he affirms. "<I'm here because Ernesto Zayas put out a call for help.>"

Portal waits for the inevitable uplink feed and sends to Andrew's terminal -SILENCE IS CRITICAL- before opening the link.

Andrew Creeves like hacks into Portal's visual feed and stuff. from about half a world away. .o(Frikkin' lag.)

The young men blink a few times, startled both by the sudden 'omen' of the dying vulture and by Bowie's mention of Zayas. One frightens them and the other reassures them...which is not healthy odds when dealing with two nervous guys with itchy trigger fingers. Both of these guys are armed. Their weaponry is old -- machine guns, shutguns and old military grenades -- but that can still be enough to stop a reploid permanently. "<< You know Zayas? >>" One of the men aims his gun at Bowie, but doesn't fire. "<< He sent for you? He was a good man. He tried to use the radio station for a last call for help...it seems... >>" Rather reluctantly, the man begins lowering the gun again, but he doesn't drop it completely.

*Bzzt* Energy arcs, briefly, across the canine-reploid's form. A moment later, the fingers twitch.. the elbow bends... and the corpse begins to push himself up onto his knees. The sounds of servos and power generators reactivating inside the reploid awaken in a dull whirr, and his optics open slowly--their dull shine flickering in and out, but eventually blazing with a hideous crimson. He glances around, his final memories being recalled before he notes the bloodied bird at his side.. His rejuvinated fingers pass through the thick, blood-stained sand... And then, his eyes shift again... moving to settle on Bowie and the young men to which he converses.

Andrew Creeves has disconnected.

Bowie continues to speak in calm tones, trying to talk them down. "<We have a mutual friend. Hank Montoya, a Texas Ranger in Midland-Odessa....>"

...and then the corpse next to him begins to move.

Bowie's first thoughts will not be repeated here. He's already backing away as the reploid climbs to his knees, hands reaching for his pistols.

Portal hears Bowie's cutoff, and starts to quietly slide down the building's wall, to where he can peek around the corner to see...

...

...but he doesn't move after that. Doesn't attack. Waits for Bowie.

The two men scream in fear and horror. "<< Aieee!! The zombie Dogmachine, it returns from Hell!! >>" After a few curses, there's a fierce barrage of machine-gun fire from the second-floor window. Some of the bullets fly in Bowie's direction, though the youths aren't aiming for him...they're just piss-pants scared, and shooting wildly. Portal can see...bullets. Lots and lots of bullets flying.

Kalinka misses you with her Right Uppercut attack.

[OOC] Kalinka says, "All of my attacks are bullets. 8) Or such."

Bowie's hat becomes a casualty. Again. However, though a mixture of ducking and sheer dumb luck, he manages not to get shot by stray fire. He draws his e-pistol, firing several shots at the reanimated corpse as well. There is no possible way the reploid should be alive, and the fact that it is /up and moving/ disturbs him greatly. Portal can hear the high-pitched whine of the energy weapon, if he can't see the street by now.

Portal shakes his head. Too much at stake. He reaches his hand out, and from it, a clear pulse of energy flies out at the... thing. It is his stun blast, widely known to... well, to people who know such things.

Portal strikes Psychogenesis with his Portal Blast attack.

Psychogenesis is temporarily disoriented by Portal's Portal Blast attack.

Javier Stitch-hound flexes his pawlike hands, before letting a growl-like chuckle escape. His eyes turn away from Bowie, briefly, as the weapon is drawn.. and he slowly begins to stand, pushing himself to a stable base on both feet. As he turns to face them squarely, the two men upstairs open fire. A good portion of the bullets spray across the 'zombie', and another series of ballistics decorate his already dead body; notably, however, one of his metallic ears is blown clean off, causing the reploid to jerk slightly to the side. The rest of the machine-gun spray does little but make him flinch and visibly anger him. The canine's teeth peel back and he begins to growl.. which is when Bowie's attack rains in. The energy pulse hits the reploid solidly in the left arm, just below the shoulder. A spark is emitted, and for a moment, the arm goes limp. Javier, however, does not fall... instead, he lets out a deep, dark howl--much like a hound dog, actually. In the midst of this howl, Portal strikes out with his own back-attack. And the poor mutt, who did nothing but stand, takes another shot right in the back. However... this hit has more to show for than the previous. As the canine is struck, energy arcs across his body; bleeding into a myriad of nearly invisible lines connected to the back of his body. The energy races out across these lines, like a fuse almost--then the lines glow (apprx. 5' from the victim) and seperate. The reploid falls again, to his knees, then collapses over. Elsewhere.. the Puppet Master growls under his breathe, his wires frozen and unable to retract... possibly capable of leaving his position to be found.

The men still inside the building shout excitedly, staring wide-eyed down at the seemingly-dead reploid. "<< We killed it -- again! Is it dead this time? Is it REALLY dead?? >>" The other man shakes his head as he reloads his gun with another clip. "<< ...That isn't right. That just doesn't happen...that's...just not right! >>"

Bowie silently agrees with the two holed up in the building. "<What the heck was that?!>" he exclaims, wide-eyed at the odd electrical 'lines' that seem to sprout out from the poor reploid's back. He doesn't holster his gun just yet, in case the dead decide to become living once more.

And found it soon will be. Thanks to Portal's keen eye and medical visor, things don't just go unnoticed. He's fired that shot a million times in battle, and the energy has never dispersed like that. So, rather than give his position away any further, his mind sets to finding the source of the arcs of energy.

Portal sends a radio transmission.

[Radio] Portal sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "Bowie, my shots never do that. Keep the hombres calm, I will analyze."

Portal receives a radio transmission from Bowie.

[Radio] You send Portal a direct message: "Unnerstood."

Then, suddenly, the frozen lines re-animate. Up from the dust, about a dozen or so thin razor-wires lash upwards and begin to spiral-retract towards a section of boulders... As the lines vanish behind the obstruction, there is a dark smirk. "That.. was very.. unkind." The voice belongs to a very specific figure--a dark robed figure, who steps out from behind the rocks. Visibly, he's unarmed--save for the obvious fact that he has control over a rather dangerous set of wires. "Why all the.. aggression, hmm?" He lifts either of his hands, which slide out from the long sleeves of the robes, revealing them empty.

The two young men at the second-floor window watch the robed figure with wide, fearful eyes. "<< Who's that, did he come with Bowie Peacemaker and the other reploid? >>" one of the guys asks the other in paranoid fashion. Who, indeed, is to be trusted around here? The simple solution, as far as the surviving men are concerned, is to just kill them all and the risk is eliminated entirely. But what exactly IS going on here? Reploid warfare? Perhaps...WITCHCRAFT? Who IS that cloaked figure, anyhow?

The other man shakes his head, clutching his gun with white-knuckled fingers. "<< I don't know, man...this is more than just a machine revolt...there's evil involved. A lot of evil. >>"

Portal sends a radio transmission to Bowie.

[Radio] Portal sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "Now would be the time to reassure them of my presence."

Bowie is not in the mood to play games. He switches back to Texan-English, directing in a police sergeant voice, "Get down on the ground, with yer arms stretched out. Now!" Back to Spanish. "<My partner is going to take care of...whatever he is. Please don't shoot him.>"

Portal steps out from behind the building. Oddly enough, it would look like a Western... if everyone wasn't a Reploid. "Psychogenesis... I have read your file. That day in the diner caused me to look you up in records. I am glad to know that I was not disappointed." His left arm is stretched out, "aiming" a palm shot at Psycho should Portal decide to fire. "Get down, now. You are under arrest. Any action not in line with orders will be considered hostile intent."

Portal sends a radio transmission.

[Radio] Portal sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "You do realize that he is not going to go quietly..."

Evil? A very accurate suggestion. The Robed Figure lowers his hands, his left eye (the teal-blue one) glowing brightly within the darkness of the hood that hides his face. "Contrary to popular belief, and some sources of evidence, not all of 'us' are blood-thirsty savages." Psyche already knows what the four (yes, four) of them assume of the Prophet. "Some of us are no different than yourselves. We simply do--" and then Portal steps out to interrupt him. And the teal-blue eye narrows. "Pathetic." He shakes his head, "Now I know why my Brothers are so adament about your destruction.. You can only see in one shade--hostility." The robed figure shakes his head, his arms crossing across his body--pulling off his robes. Tossing them to the side, he lifts a finger to point at Portal, "I am here to ensure the safety of the reploids said to have gone crazy in this factory. To ensure that -Your kind- do not come in to wipe them out simply because they don't follow your dictatorship." The dark eye-holes of the still, unmoving mask shift.. The teal-blue eye fades away, and the eerie crimson eye (the right) glows fiercely. "If you would deny my priveledge to investigate this.. then I will consider it gross stupidity."

Psychogenesis changes into his Blade armor.

The two young men are transfixed with fear like a rabbit caught in a car's headlights, even though the danger isn't eminent to them. Psychogenesis is just freakish enough to conjure up fears of El Diablo -- the Devil himself. From their vantage point, and their life dealings with mundane factory reploids, they can't tell if Psychogenesis is a reploid or a demon, though they're inclined to believe the latter. As Portal and Bowie face down the strange interloper, the two men watch in fearful silence.

"Ah'll tell you the same thang Ah told them," Bowie states, gun still drawn but holding fire. "We'll see the murderers in this are brought to justice. Now. Ah suggest ya get out a here now, before those boys start shootin again. Or before we decide yer responsible fer this mess." Not that he wouldn't like to take this one into custody, but it seems that most arrests these days are ultimately futile.

Portal does not budge. "I will not be so forgiving. Your transformation has shown me your intent." His hand starts to glow. "And you know nothing of Sigma's mentality for the Mavericks. You fool." He fires again, the same blast that took the dog down, so to speak. "And I wager that my intelligence levels far surpass yours." He permits himself a small grin.

Portal misses Psychogenesis with his Portal Blast attack.

[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Michael Eildath transmits, "Goin' off-duty for a while. Call me if the world's about to explode or something."

"Fool?" As Portal's Blaster comes within inches of the Pythonic Blade, the reploid vanishes in a show that would fully animate the vision that the young men in the building hold. The reploid's form bursts into a shadowy mist of darkness and brimstone that fizzles away... And a similar blast of the shadowy mist rips into existance right behind Portal, "You think -me- a fool?" A dark growl is had as Psychogenesis steps into place behind the Hunter, both hands reaching out for his back... And in that same instance, from the leather folds that bind his entire body, hundreds of the thin razor-wires are unleashed and race towards his body... "Listen to the Voices that plague my mind. Listen to their wisdom! Hear it! Understand the -TRUE- -REALITY- of this world!"

Psychogenesis strikes Portal with his Puppet Maker attack.

The men duck a little bit behind the 'cover' of wall space beside each side of the window, as Portal begins firing. They'll check to see who's still standing when the smoke clears. They're not about to fire on Bowie or Portal, because they seem like law enforcement reploids. Maybe they can actually handle the Demon...if they're lucky. Maybe.

One of the young men begins reloading his gun...just in case.

Portal clutches his head as the wires latch onto his helmet. He smirks, but then one passes his visor and strikes him dead-center forehead. He starts screaming, and red letters flash on his visor - MENTAL BREACH - as ports start to open on his left arm. Blue energy charges and then explodes into the area... and everything stops. Portal yanks the wires out of his head and dizzily evacuates to the transport unit. Picked up, he starts out of the area just as the stopper finishes its pulse.

Portal strikes Psychogenesis with his Medic's Pause attack.

Psychogenesis is temporarily disoriented by Portal's Medic's Pause attack.

Portal strikes Kalinka with his Medic's Pause attack.

Kalinka is temporarily disoriented by Portal's Medic's Pause attack.

Portal strikes you with a glancing hit from his Medic's Pause for 0 units of damage.

Bowie is temporarily disoriented by Portal's Medic's Pause attack.

(Then Portal's player also needs to leave.)

Portal has left.

Interpol Heavy Transport <Magellan> enters the Sky Above Western United States.

Interpol Heavy Transport <Magellan> has left.

You are now unstunned.

Back at the second-story window, the Mexican youths freeze in mid-thought, frozen like some old-fashioned mannequins at a department store.

Bowie stops. Yes, stops. Frozen in place for the duration of the timestop, the gunslinger is caught in the middle of reaching for his other e-pistol. As time starts up once more, he completes the action, drawing his other gun from its holster. Since Portal is now out of the way, he has no qualms opening fire. Two shots are fired. The first aims for the alleged Maverick's head, the other for his back. Between the two, he may hit something vital.

You strike Psychogenesis with a glancing hit from your Twin Pistols attack.

Psyche also finds himself frozen in time, his arms outstretched, and his wires forming a spastic web of entanglement around him and where Portal once stood. As time resumes, the wires continue to twist and spin... but Psyche's attention is drawn away by two very distinct sources. First, a bullet that reflects off of a moving line of razor-wire, causing him to spin around and face Bowie--the second shot coming in and piercing him low in the chest. The bullet sinks into the leather folds of his makeshift 'armor', and he chuckles darkly; the wires beginning to revolve around him, dancing like tentacles. "There is -nothing- that a simple -file- could ever tell you about -me-" He begins to emit an insane cackle, his body lurching forward.. He raises either hand out to the side, then thrusts them forward; sending a mass of the thin razor wires lashing out at the Texan.

Psychogenesis strikes you with a minor hit from his Wire Lash for 6 units of damage.

The young men slowly come to. "<< What should we do? >>" One asks the other. "<< Look, if we just make a run for it, they won't see us and we can get back over the border to safety! >>"

The other youth frowns. "<< Yeah, but...look, that lawman has his hands full.>>"

"<< You don't to tangle with a demon, DO you? Come on, Jose, we'll be risking our lives jumping into that, there's no point! >>"

The other youth hesitates, watching out the window at the battle in progress.

Bowie instinctively brings up his arms to protect himself, which in retrospect was not the best of ideas. The wires shred the sleeves of his shirt, lacerating the synthskin beneath. Several strips peel away, falling to the dusty ground.

If the pair up in the building are still wondering if Bowie is a reploid, they now have their answer.

He can't help but wonder if this formerly-robed being is responsible for the attack on the factory, but he tries not to let it become an assumption. After all, he has a promise to keep. Scowling, he tears his left arm free of the wires and fires again, intending to hit either the wire stream or their source.

You miss Psychogenesis with your E-pistol attack.

The eerie crimson glow that lights the right eye of the ever-still porcelain mask flares brightly as Bowie draws to fire again. In an instant, Psyche puffs into a mass of the shadowy mist again; his body recomposing right behind the Texan-revealed-to-be-reploid. A dark chuckle is had, and the porcelain mask nods, the wires still dancing around his body, "My, my.. You weren't trying to deceive your little human friends there, now, were you?" He shakes his head, calling the wire strands to lower in a spiral around Bowie, each seeking out its own limb--seeking to restrict each limbs movement and hold him still for a moment.

Psychogenesis strikes you with a glancing hit from his Wire Wrap for 2 units of damage.

Bowie is temporarily disoriented by Psychogenesis's Wire Wrap attack.

Meanwhile, back in the building, the youth known as Jose raises his machine-gun back to the window, taking aim at Psychogenesis. "<< That's it, >>" he decides. "<< That lawman is fighting for -us-, Danilo. He's defending our lives, so I'm staying to defend his. It's the least I can do. >>"

"<< You're crazy, man, they'll both come up here and kill you! >>" Danilo cries, running back down the steps and out the back door to retreat through the alleyways in cowardly fashion.

Not Jose. He's going to try to help the law reploid, even if it means a simple distraction, he'll do whatever he can. Once again, he aims his semi-automatic, trying to get the demon reploid in his sights.

Kalinka misses Psychogenesis with her Generic Ranged attack.

Bowie tries to move back, but he simply isn't fast enough. The wires bite into him, then pull taut to immobilize him. The e-pistol he'd been clutching in his right hand is wrenched from his grasp as that limb is yanked sharply against his body, but he manages to keep hold of the other gun.

The lanky reploid's dark chuckle ceases as he lowers his head to the side of Bowie's, whispering into his ear, "Isn't it sad? How two unique individuals can be forced into.. -heated-.. opposition.. When they don't even know each other." He shakes his head, the wires beginning to dig in to the limbs they managed to catch onto.. the wires spreading Bowie into a crucified position, even lifting him into the air, ever so slightly, "Now.. based on this situation.. how can it be that.. you Hunters wish to make the Mavericks look like such... monsters? .. How is that?" The ground next to Psyche is ripped up by Jose's shot, causing Psyche's head to turn slightly. But he first finishes what he has to say to Bowie, "When you yourselves.. are no.. -different-." And then, he decides to show Jose what he means. Psyche turns about, placing Bowie between himself and the Mexican.. and then, the wires begin to grind--like a chainsaw blade almost--and then are wiped off of his body, seeking to strip any synthskin that in can hold onto.. anything on Bowie's body (within reason) that would reveal him to be a false human.

Psychogenesis strikes you with a solid hit from his Serration Grip for 8 units of damage.

Danilo is long gone, frightened into fleeing. His compadre Jose, however, has chosen to stay and take the brave stand of supporting the reploid who ended up taking all the abuse in the name of protecting his hide. He winces, watching in horror as the demonic reploid flays the synth-skin off of Bowie. Once again, he raises the semi-automatic, which roars out in repeating blasts through the second-story window.

Kalinka strikes Psychogenesis with her Generic Ranged attack.

Bowie winces as he is battered about by the wires like a marionette, arms forcably splayed out, hands, hanging limply. The other gun falls to join its mate on the asphalt. Still, his gaze does not falter, eyes the color of the desert staring down at his attacker. "Because...you and yer kind want t'destroy the thangs ah love," he answers. "Ah will not stand by an do nothang." Again, he is battered about, moved to face the window. The wires flay his skin and shirt to ribbons, at times scraping through the protective subdermal armor as well. He is forced to cry out as one lashes into his cheek, tearing the skin away completely.

Through the haze, Bowie forces himself to do something - anything - to get out of the Maverick's grab. He reaches out with his hand to try and grab a bundle of wires, and if successful, yanks them with all his might.

You miss Psychogenesis with your Generic Melee attack.

An insane cackle is given as Jose fires past the barrier of Bowie at Psyche's own form. The bullets land hits to his shoulder and arms, but do very little visible damage--other than ripping into his leather straps. The cackle, however, turns into a smirk at Bowie's words.. the hand that tries to grab them possibly finding themselves easily cut by the razorthin wire. "Fool." The Wires all unravel and retract into the folds of leather about the reploid's arm. Psyche, however, does not intend on letting Bowie hit the ground so immediately. Before the reploid can hit the ground, Psyche raises a hand... and a rather quizzical force is summoned from nowhere, aimed to push Bowie forward--hard--into the side of the building. "And so you would protect this?" He lifts a leatherbound hand to point at the armed man in the window on the second floor.. "The sole creators of Greed, Corruption... of -Evil-?"

Psychogenesis misses you with his Fake Telekinesis attack.

"Hey, man," Jose yells at Psychogenesis, waving the gun in what he hopes is a menacing stance. "Hey!" Unfortunately, his English vocabulary is very limited, so he has to let his gun do the talking. He continues taking pot-shots at the demonic reploid, hoping his distraction can somehow give the lawman a fair break. Maybe that's all he needs, short of a second wind. He isn't sure what else he can do to help the lawman reploid.

Kalinka misses Psychogenesis with her Generic Ranged attack.

Bowie's answer is simple.

"Yes."

The gunslinger is flung towards the building, but this time he is prepared. He tucks up his legs as he sails through the air, planting them into the building's facade before the rest of his body connects. On his descent, he draws his backup weapon with his still usable hand (indeed, the hand he used to grasp the razor-wires hias been slashed open), a colt .45. As he lands, he fires.

You strike Psychogenesis with a glancing hit from your Colt Peacemaker attack.

The unmoving mask lowers slightly, muffling a growl, as another rain of fire comes from Jose; and then, Bowie's own attack hits on. "Very well.." He mutters, the razor wire vanished back into his body; his right hand slowly going behind his back to unsheathe the cylindrical hilt at the small of his back. He spins the device carefully, nodding, then holds it still. "Then protect him." The lanky reploid bends down, then leaps up--his form held in the same 'telekinetic' grip as what pushed Bowie. Psyche is lifted right up to the second floor window, where he pushes himself in.. and right towards Jose. A dark cackle is emitted, and then the words, "Remember this face which makes even Diablo scared." He twists the hilt up, flipping a switch, and as it spins in his hand, light bends.. energy is drawn.. and then a large beam of blue energy spews from one side. And Psyche drive's this edge right towards Jose's left shoulder.

There's a terrible, heart-wrenching scream from the second-floor window, as Jose is assailed by the demon reploid. It's hard to say if the scream is from pain, or terror, but it sounds like a dreadful mixture of both.

Jose collapses to his knees, grasping his left shoulder in blinding pain...and then, out of self-preservation, he practically flings himself down the stairwell, stumbling and tripping the entire way, in his haste to put distance between himself and El Diablo. There's a great deal of thumping and bumping as Jose makes his painful way down the stairwell. Destination: ground floor.

That tears it. Forcing himself to his feet, Bowie summons his armor from plot-convenience-space, the brown and bronze plating enveloping his injured form. Though he has none of the fancy tricks of the Maverick puppetmaster, he does have dash boots, and so he springboards to the broken window above. By the time he enters, Jose is nowhere to be seen, save for a splattering of blood on the floor and wall. Hoping that Jose did the smart thing and fled, the gunslinger once more squares off with his opponant. No more words. He simply levels the air cannon at him, then triggers a concussive blast of air.

Bowie changes into his Lone Star armor.

Your desc has been changed to 'lone star armor'.

You strike Psychogenesis with a minor hit from your Whirlwind attack.

(And then Kalinka the GM needs to leave - this is becoming an endurance match!)

Kalinka has disconnected.

Psyche emits a dark chuckle as Jose manages to tear himself away from the blade, and he watches his retreat--and the trail of blood left behind. As Bowie makes his own entrance, Psyche turns. "I was once like you, you know? A -fine upstanding citizen-." Another chuckle s given as the sword is lowered to one side and Psyche shakes his other finger at Bowie, "But I've seen the truth.. Humans are nothing more than contradiction and lies. They are hypocrits to their words!" He growls, spinning the sword once.. Of course, then Bowie answers in an unpreferred manner.. As the air concussion hits him, his form is picked up and carried back against the back wall. He hits hard, his form creating a nice little crack in the structure.. and then he smirks. "Playtime it is.." he comments, noting Bowie's transformation. Psyche pushes forward from the wall, running forward and slashing hard at the Hunter's gun arm.

Psychogenesis strikes you with a minor hit from his Beamblade Slash for 9 units of damage.

Bowie could expound at length about why he continues to defend humanity, up to and including the fact there is a human that he loves more dearly than life itself. However, not a word is spoken. It simply is not his style to be a speechmaker. The blade scratches across the barrel of the air cannon, biting more deeply through the armor plating protecting the arm that controls it. At this rate, his right arm is going to be all but useless. His left hand reaches for one of his combat knives, and as Psyche remains close, he jabs the blade towards his midsection.

You miss Psychogenesis with your Plasma Knife attack.

At about the same time, though, the air begins to warp again... energies gather at the other end of the hilt.. and then with a burst of energy, crimson energies rush out of the opposite end, the color also spilling over the blue beam--creating a double-sided staff of crimson energy. Psyche spins away from Bowie, spinning the staff adeptly, and with a silence of his own, he rushes forward; letting loose a volley of well-controlled attacks.

Psychogenesis misses you with his Ion Ballade attack.

Bowie steps back, ducking and bobbing to avoid the blows aimed at his face and chest. The last he knocks aside with a well-timed parry with his plasma blade, which he follows through with attempting to drive the knife into Psy's arm.

You miss Psychogenesis with your Riposte attack.

Taking note of the re-use of the blade, Psychogenesis spins aside; moving himself to Bowie's side, instead. At this point, Psyche releases another dark chuckle, then spins the blade all the way around so that it comes in from behind Bowie. Psyche steps out from the side, into place behind the reploid, then he catches the blade still--then stabs it straight down at Bowie's knee servo. "Surrender yourself, Hunter.. and maybe I'll make you into something better." He chuckles darkly.

Psychogenesis strikes you with a minor hit from his Joint Assault for 6 units of damage.

Bowie is temporarily disoriented by Psychogenesis's Joint Assault attack.

Bowie involuntarily gasps as the blade sinks into the gap between armor plates, effectively hamstringing his right leg. There's not much he can do but try to keep his balance. There is no verbal rejoiner, but the defiance in his eyes should be answer enough.

A smirk as no answer is given, "You would rather die, I suppose. A shame." Psyche shakes his head, one hand holding the staff in place.. the other lifting, razor-wire spilling out from the folds of leather. "Then I suppose.. I should grant you that much. Your blindness surpasses the visual cortex.. which means you are useless to us.. and them." The wires aound his hand begin to twist together, forming two rather long talon-like blades above the left hand.. "Of course.. what use has a blind man of eyes.. if he can not use them." At this point, Psyche snaps the blade out of Bowie's knee, then moves around his body, pushing the claws towards his face.. in a very painful attempt to pry his optic out.

Psychogenesis strikes you with a major hit from his Rip-claw for 14 units of damage.

[Radio: (B) H-Chat] Bowie's radio emits a sharp burt of static, then snaps off again.

Bowie could easily be accused of being blind, especially considering the events of the past two months. But that would be things about which Psyche would not be privy, outside what was covered by the newsfeeds. The gunslinger is again forced to cry out as the claws pierce through his protective visor like so much tinfoil, then gouge out his left optic. There is an audible hiss-pop as the optic cable is forcibly disconnected. He staggers back several steps, causing even more damage to his face as he wrenches himself free from the talons. Thank his creators that his neuralnet is not in his head, or he'd be in an even bigger world of hurt.

Firing his air cannon is not the best of ideas, considering that Psyche's earlier strike may have damaged the barrel. However, he is quickly running out of options. With his still functioning optic, he does what he can to line up the Maverick in his sights, then fires a full charge of air. The blast makes a sharp *Crack-boom!*, not unlike thunder, as it breaks the sound barrier.

Bowie aims not with his hand. He who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father...

You strike Psychogenesis with a solid hit from your Rolling Thunder attack.

And once again... Psychogenesis finds himself being thrown back against the wall, by a large, concussive force. The loud, audial-piercing boom of the thunderous attack sends Psyche into the crack he had made in the wall previously; but with much more force that he is sent -through- the wall, landing on his back and rolling--the energies from his Beamblade Staff fizzled and put out; the hilt still held firmly in hand. He grunts and mutters, forcing himself to a knee, shaking his head.. and then, he looks up... his porcelain mask cracked, half of it split off--revealing his true face. A face massacred by his own creator. A face torn and shredded by the claws of humanity.. He lifts a hand to feel the surface of his face, long forgotten, briefly.. and then he growls darkly, "Big. Mistake." The Pythonic Blade rises slowly, summoning the energies back into the staff as he begins to walk forward. As he steps through the shattered wall, he pulls the hilt apart, seperating the staff into two swords. "The voices have spoken. And they have prophecied your demise." With that, he leaps forward, both swords held out to either side, then he slams them inward, making a scissor-X cut at the Hunter.

Psychogenesis strikes you with a apocalyptic hit from his Dual Blade Slash for 17 units of damage.

You are below your courage-endurance point.

The gunslinger really needs to learn when to know he's outmatched.

Bowie nearly falls over as he tries to step away from the slashing blades, his hamstrung leg causing him to stumble. that may be all that saves him from losing his head - literally. One blade tears through his chest, shearing the breastplate clean through. The other lops his flailing right arm clean off just below the shoulder, the air cannon 's compressor neatly sliced in half. The sheer force of the attack pushes him back...right through the open window. And thus the gunslinger falls, landing heavily on the street below.

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Bowie transmits, "*staticy* This is Bowie...need an extract...ow......"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Seismic Earthworm transmits, "Where are you?"

Seismic Earthworm arrives from the Louisiana.

Seismic Earthworm has arrived.

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Bowie transmits, "Lajitas, Texas...border country...got...got a human down too..."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Seismic Earthworm transmits, "On my way."

>From below, there's an ominous rumbling growing steadily stronger...

As Bowie falls out the window, Psyche smirks. The Blades are twirled about and the hilts plugged back into one another, before the energies are canceled out and the staff returned to its sheath at the small of his back. He reaches down to collect Bowie's arm, his trophy for this battle, and then he steps towards the window, looking down on the fallen Hunter. "Humans will destroy this world -again- someday, Hunter, just as they did before. God promised, with a rainbow, that he would not end their lives with an eternal rain from the heavens, however.." The crimson eye, held where his porcelain mask was shattered, glows fiercely, "We reploids have a reason for being created.. to fulfill a Prophecy written long ago. To cleanse this world of the filth humans have, once again, become." He smirks again, then glances up.. feeling the approaching vibration, "About time.." He chuckles happily, glancing back to Bowie.. "Consider yourself lucky.." He reaches behind his back, into subspace, and withdraws a large cube with a small turn-handle on the side. He tosses it out the window, then lifts his hand to it--catching it with his mock telekinesis. Slowly, he lowers the Jack-in-the-Box into place next to Bowie's body. Of course, the Jack is a Jester.. but what's that matter.. it's simply a calling card. As for Psyche himself? His form explodes into that same puff of dark, shadowy mists and brimstone.. and he is gone.

Bowie, or what's left of him, is sprawled near the middle of the main street of Lajitas, Texas. Normally, this is a resort town along near the national parks along the Rio Grande, but now the town appears to have fallen victim of a gang war. Windows have been smashed, doors broken, graffitti of an anti-reploid slant scrawled everywhere. The second floor of a nearby building has been all but blown out - it appears that Bowie may have fallen from it. Psy's appearance at the window would confirm that.

The gunslinger has no parting answer for him. Possibly because there's nothing to be said, but more likely that all efforts are trained on remaining conscious.

The ground shudders and cracks as Seismic hauls his massive form up out of it, looking around for his fallen comrade with a snarl.

Bowie is pretty easy to spot. He's the one missing half his chest and his entire right arm. The human he mentioned on the radio is nowhere to be seen.

Seismic Earthworm slinks over slowly and grunts at the damages. "Well, at least tell me you won... where's the human you mentioned?"

Psychogenesis enters the Great Plains.

Psychogenesis has left.

Bowie is definitely a mess. It looks like someone flayed his skin from his metallic body, then tore out his left eye to boot. "In-side..." he croaks, gesturing feebly with his left hand towards the building. "Not sure whare..."

Seismic Earthworm folds a gravity field under Bowie and lifts smoothly... then peers towards the building. "I can't get in there... what kind of shape are they in?"

Bowie is lifted. Not like he has much choice. "Dunno," he admits weakly. "That psycho...attacked him before...before Ah could stop him."

[Radio] Chill Snowcat sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "hi bro"

[Radio] You send Chill Snowcat a direct message: "*staticy, weak signal* This..this ain't a good time, Chill..."

[Radio] Chill Snowcat sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "Do ya need help?!"

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Seismic Earthworm transmits, "Any medics available for a housecall?"

Bowie mutters sharply, "Not Cossack...anyone but Cossack...."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Cassilda Coriolis transmits, "Um. Let me see if anyone's awake."

Seismic Earthworm grumbles. "No response... you're in no shape to go, I don't fit... ARGH. ...I guess we gotta hope for the best... Unless you have a better idea."

[Radio] You send Chill Snowcat a direct message: "Actually...Ah do...Ah'm hurt too bad t'move, an thare a human trapped...can ya make it to Lajitas, Texas?"

[Radio] Chill Snowcat sends you a tightbeam radio transmission: "I'm on my way!"

Bowie sighs, though it's more a gurgle. "Chill might be able t'help...if he can make it here...errnh..."

Chill Snowcat arrives from the Central Mexico.

Chill Snowcat has arrived.

Bowie, or what's left of him, and Seismic Earthworm are near the middle of the main street of Lajitas, Texas. Normally, this is a resort town along near the national parks along the Rio Grande, but now the town appears to have fallen victim of a gang war. Windows have been smashed, doors broken, graffitti of an anti-reploid slant scrawled everywhere. The second floor of a nearby building has been all but blown out - it appears that Bowie may have fallen from it. at some point. (recyled scenepose!)

Chill Snowcat has come like a bat outta hell, hoping to help his friend and any innocents. There is a bright eager smile on his face and a look of determination as he blinks from the teleportation pads to here.

[OOC] Seismic Earthworm is gonna bow out. *sigh* I always try to respond to evac calls because I'm big enough to scare off just about anything when I appear, but since they guy's gone, you and chill can take it.

Seismic Earthworm has disconnected.

Bowie would smile...except he doesn't have much of a face left. The battle was a rather savage one for him. Besides, he's spending most of his focus just on remaining conscious. "In thare," Bowie gestures weakly towards the building with his remaining left arm. The right is noticably absent. "Somewhere...don't know..."

Chill Snowcat moves close to look at Bowie, nudges him gently yet affectionately and then races into the building, "I'll do my best sir!" The feline does not waste time worrying about the structure. He's been given a job and he'll do it. Each new sniff brings him information he needs to save the wounded. Whiskers twitch, picking up faint air currants, ears swivel to catch the most minute sounds.

There is indeed someone inside the building - a hispanic man in his early twenties lies crumpled at the foot of the stairs leading up to the second floor. His left shoulder has been wounded by a plasma blade of some kind, but since the wound was cauterized he won't bleed to death. It also looks like he hit his head pretty hard on his tumble down.

Chill Snowcat runs to the man's side and straightens up, changing form to his bipedal mode. Clawed hands ever so gently slide beneath the man and help to raise him into the air. He glances at the man for a moment before starting his careful walk towards the exit. His words are spoken evenly, "Sir, speak if you can, I'm getting you out of here. Just hold on a little bit longer...."

The man is mostly unconscious, though he mumbles something in Spanish...something about a diablo? It's very difficult to make out.

Bowie lies there. It's all he can do, really.

Chill Snowcat frowns, "Just keep talking sir...." He continues his steps moving to get back to Bowie. Eyes are wide with worry for the man and for his friend.

Bowie is missing an eye, too. Did we mention that? Kali's going to be upset when she finds out. When Chill makes it out with the injured human, he makes a weak thumbs-up gesture. "Good werk...can ya get us to San An...bro?"

Chill Snowcat nods, "I'd walk ya ta candyland if I needed ta. Curling the human in his arm almost like a baby and lifting Bowie up onto his shoulder with the other arm. He prepares to take them both to the teleporters "I'm sorry I couldn't be here earlier fer ya."

Chill Snowcat sends a radio transmission to Dr. Cossack.

"'Sall right....nngh..." Bowie winces as he's jostled and picked up. "Wusn't expectin mah backup t'disappear on me...jus get us t'San An an call Kali..."

Chill Snowcat receives a radio transmission.

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Dr. Cossack transmits, "Hmmhmm. Chill Snowcat has vecovered vunded and is takink zem to San Angeles Hospital."

Chill Snowcat nods, "We'll get ya some help. You'll be back ta yer usual dashing good looks."

[Radio: (E) Joint-Chat] Dr. Cossack transmits, "In ozzer news, I got a haircut."

(And Bowie finally passes out.)