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Red Maelstrom
#608078 - Wed Aug 23 2006 11:53 PM
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Anycity
Fursday, 3:00am
It was a regular night like any night for the city. A small office building was closed nearby, the many lights beyond the rows of glass were off. Cars were parked down the roads at random meters - a chosen few on cinderblocks for someone's malicious purpose. The wellused hotdog stand down at the street corner was locked up and parked securely against a drug store. Fact, the owner of that very store had closed shop and returned home not too long ago. Even the local gas stations had shut down for the night. This was the hour where people were asleep in their suberb homes just outside the city, apartments scattered around, or wellplaced motels. While this was Anycity, there is absolutely no reason to be out on a stroll at this hour without a wandering cop car stopping to take you in for questioning. After all, Fursday was in the middle of the working Dream week.
Long after the sparse last locations closed down for the night, the city became quiet. Not abnormally quiet, however. Like any normal night with those crickets that could be heard everywhere. That one street light on its' last legs made the occational flash and buzzing sound of electricity at random intervals. Once in a while the yeowl of cats doing what cats do best echoed along alleyways with that one gruff dog whom chose to bark without any real reason. Rarely car lights would go by the windows of the restful and asleep - a car everyone knew to be a cop on night patrol for suspicious behavior. These vehicle headlights were insurance to those who blissfully dreamed in the mind of a napping cat that thieves and trouble were off the streets. Everyone from the innocently asleep to insomniac, alike, were safe and protected by the arm of the law.
A spontanious flash blared over the night followed by an ear damaging boom. Brief silence. An explosion thereafter racked the streets and shattered the windows of the office building simultaniously. Creaking heavily, the stout structure gave out a last breath before toppling into itself. Three red lights seered through the air to impact into a few unlucky vehicals, sending shrapnel every which way. A following explosion from gas set a fire around the building and cars. Hoarse, insane laughter belted from beyond the stirred up debris of chaos. It only added to the destruction of firing bullets that took down lights and destroyed public property.
It was 3:32am when the police called in the disaster. The telephones for the station and emergency network blinked on and off irratically. Worried citizens were told to stay calm and not venture outside. Random excuses were made up to calm the newly awakened. Even though many were in motels or apartments not too far off from this disaster and could see first hand the ruffles of smoke and debris that now littered the streets, along with the growing fire. Others residing near the unexpected catastrophe could hear that terrorising laughter. Though it was clear that everyone was caught completely off guard, it wouldn't be long before there would undoubtedly be casualties.
Unlike any normal night, police and fire truck sirens blazed over the air. The sky was lit crimson with carnage. The dusk air was suffocating in smoke. Peace had been stabbed in the back. And this was only the beginning.
Members to join this thread: Amethyst, Caldera, Chain B., Dietrich, Rythem, and Tac-Wolf.
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The ear-juddering BOOM of the explosion quite nearly knocked poor Caldera out of his hotel bed. What the explosion didn't quite manage, Caldera finished himself, ducking and covering from long habit before he was even fully awake. Just as well, considering the pressure wave that shattered the window and sent shards of glass tinkling to the floor.
The hyena held that tableau for a few minutes, until he was sure that there were no more detonations, then rolled to his feet, cursing. He paid little heed to the glass, symbiote-armored feet crunching it as he grabbed his clothes from the closet. Here on business, he'd been forced to travel light to avoid a high profile. A security briefcase, full of rather ordinary if valuable documents, a few suits with long sleeves to cover his bracers, and virtually nonexistent armament, by his standards.
Two small, flat energy pistols went into their hidden holsters, and the pen-grenade was clipped to his pocket. He double-checked the briefcase - it was set to incinerate the contents if damaged or anyone tried to force or hack the lock. Then, properly clothed, he hastened out of the room. While inside was cover, inside was also confined. And that sort of explosion betrayed something more than a simple gas leak (did this place even have gas lines?).
So down and out he went. If he needed cover, he could find it. Until then, he preferred to keep moving. Preferably in the immediate direction of away.
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Ah...the dead of night. Certainly odd hours to be walking about. Fortunately (or unfortunately, given the exposition) a certain grey man trudging down a certain sidewalk in a certain omnipresent city called those odd hours 'working hours'. And by God no cop looking to make a midnight bust is going to give him any sass! At any rate, down those lonesome, ill-lit streets trudged Dietrich Farkham, the mysterious briefcase (as always) in tow, onwards to do those mysterious things he does for a living.
And then...well...we all know what happens here. The grey man was knocked into the side of a nearby building by the force of the blast, quite taken by surprise (usually the freakshows don't start tearing up the joint until mid-afternoon). He half-grunted half-cursed as he hit the brick wall, keeping his wits about him long enough to stumble past a nearby stoop and duck into a handy-dandy alleyway as gunshots and malicious laughter suddenly filled the night air.
There are times when words fail. This'd be one of those times...thus Dietrich chose instead to scowl (his second favorite facial expression!) at the chaos after his stumbling led to his back hitting up against a dumpster. It seemed that Anycity's nightlife was beginning to uncomfortably resemble it's violently discordant daylife. Thus the prudent course of action for a situation like this would be to 'get the hell out of Dodge', so to speak. Which'd be precisely what the mage'd attempt to do once he'd properly regained his bearings.
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"Pacta Sunt Servanda"
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((Arright, here it is, in living color, er, as it were. Rythem, it seems, has not yet been authorised, owing to a lazy PG. As such, said PG has chosen to post as rythem from the comfort and safety of another account untill such time as Rythem proper is avalable for posting. A link to his profile shall be provided at the end of this message.))
Ah, things were finely going right for our boy Rythem... he'd moved in on Anycity, avoided the usual problems of petty theft and muggery (the first by virtue of being broke, the second by virtue of being very large... and armor plated. That tends to discourage people).
He'd even, by some stroke of incredable luck, found himself both a job, and a new home... in a machine shop.
Don't laugh, it pays the bills... and, well, it makes a certain twisted kind of sense. A hospital, morgue, and frankenstine's lab all rolled up in one, from an AI's perspective, but a good place to be none the less. On this preticuler night, the shop, just cattycorner to the unfortunate building, had closed up early... the owner had gone off to his usual spot at the bar(before, presumably going home... what with most bars closing up well before three AM), leaving Rythem to his own tasks...
A bit of maintence, a little real work... and even a bit of work on his pet-project.
It had all started some time ago, as such things do, with a conversation. Now, the contents of the conversation are up for debate, but at the end it seems Rythem had found himself determined to build a shovel.
Now, most sane people would just go out and buy one... but in his case, that presents a bit of a problem. You see, he's rather tall... in at twelve feet... and his strength is such that a conventional shovel simply wouldent work.
But tonight... mear moments before the explosion, the project was complete.
Half-inch thick iron for the scoop... rounded at the edges, with teeth added to make some sort of demented spork... a handle made of a simple rod of the very same hardened iron... hell, the handle alone must weigh in at a couple hundred pounds, what with being two and a half inches thick...
Yes, all in all it's a frightening thing, more suited to assulting the ground then digging into it... but if you were going to put a garden in the middle of the interstate, this would be the shovel you'd use.
Still, as he stood there, his new prize in one hand, the arc-welder in the other... still humming omanusly, he got the distinct feeling that something wasn't quite right.
That, fellow dreamers, is when the roof collapsed on him.
Lost in thought, as he was, he didn't hear the explosion... nor notice when the shards of glass rained down on him from the small skylight... but when the roof falls, yah, that snaps him back to reality real good.
It's only a few moments later, then, that he's trying to claw his way back out... shovel clasped tightly in one armored fist, his other trying to force a bit of steel girder to get out of his way. So far, his arm seems to be winning...
((And now, for your viewing pleasure... Rythem))
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The stage was set, it appeared. A cross of intersecting roads, in the center was the cause of the destruction. The recently fallen office building on the northeast corner of this cross. Rythem coming out with force on the east side next to the fallen building, Caldera retreating from his rude wakeup call on the west side, and Dietrich retreating to an alley dripping off of the cross's east street and opposing the quite deceased office building.
Eventually the smoke and debris would settle. In the meantime, Caldera retreated from his building with breifcase in hand. He turned west away from the carnage. However in a turn of irony, if he instead faced the danger, the hyena anthro would have been the first to see the cause of the destruction. The psychotically laughing, gothic teenager weilding a pretty impressive gernade launcher in one hand and a semi-automatic rifle in the other. A human-base character who seemed far too preoccupied in destroying things through the smoke infront of him than seeing anyone retreat the scene behind him. Like Caldera, for example.
Instead, the goth looked through the smoke with large, unblinking eyes and a sadistic smile that could have easily split his fanged face. Even before the debris began to clear enough for a certain A.I. unit with a massive and deadly spork to scan him, he could see it all too well. Slipping the gernade launcher over shoulder, the fanged teenager prepped, aimed for the moving shadow hidden beyond the office building, and fired upwards. The gun's kick nearly sending him off his feet as two explosives launched into the air.
Rythem had all the time in the world to hear the classic double plunk of round ammunition firing from a weapon over the crackling fire. The whistle up high of two red lights arced in the air and started falling towards him at gaining speed. One gernade cracked into what was left of the mechanics, the other would bounce across the ground near Rythem and go off unless he otherwise did something to prevent that. It was a delayed reaction, but the gernades would go off. Not only go off, but also leak an unknown, flamible fluid to reak further destruction. Pieces of the building Rythem once worked at blew into the air at haphazard angles.
A bus (resembling a stolen WhiteHound travel bus repainted and given tinted windows) blocked the exit road infront of Caldera with a squeel of breaks. This would be enough distraction to obstruct the fact that a certain character's cackling had stopped. The drivers window popped open and a large, african american figure inside called out, "Alek, it's time to move!" This was, of course, directed beyond the fleeing hyena.
In an unsettled feeling of having one's shadow ripped out beneath them, someone was instantly standing behind the furry one. Not touching him. Not threatening him in any way. No guns or knives were against Cal's back. No ropes, chains, wires, or handcuffs. However there would still be a sensation there so unnerving, so disturbing. The words whispered across Cal's shoulder were spoken in a way as to make anyone with a consciously beating heart feel naked and defenseless. "Have you enjoyed my little show? I feel like we shall meet again in the future. In the flesh." Then, before Cal could turn around or defend himself, the presense was gone. Leaving only that chilling breath behind on his fur.
Blinking back into existance in a whoff of smoke, Alek stepped towards the bus for only a hidden moment before disappearing completely. The bus began to move away from the scene.
This left a certain astral-touched mage in an alleyway. As he hit the dumpster, it creaked heavily with an unnatural weight. He only had a brief moment to catch himself before those gernades sent towards Rythem had some form of explosive and flaming effect. Which only added to the carnage and scenery. Should this be enough of a distraction, then maybe the continued wane from the dumpster would not have been as much of a threat. A growl lower than imagineably possible bounced off of the alley walls. It sounded like that of a feral dog, however much... Much... Bigger. And if that wasn't some indication that this alley wasn't safe, perhaps a large beast of brown and black fur - wearing mere rags of what were once green clothing - coming out from behind the dumpster would be enough. The monster was wet with blood and sweat, decorated with heavy scars, and holding what appeared to be the upperhalf of a gruff dog in it's mouth. Dropping the corpse, the lupinious creature turned it's lip-curled attention towards Dietrich.
Soon the smoke began to clear. In the center of the cross section of destruction, only a gernade launcher remained, as if set there to be a message.
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Caldera swore as the bus pulled up, but his invective didn't take real feeling until 'Alek' pulled his little stunt. Cal hated that sort of thing. Defenseless was something he was not. His armor was out even before the bus started pulling away, and a pistol was in his hand a few moments later.
He took aim and fired a burst of plasma at each of the rear tires, then sprinted away perpendicular, taking cover behind a building before even checking to see if his fire had any effect. As far as the grenade launcher went, Cal would treat it as a live bomb and stay away. He had more rounds in his pistols than that antique.
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Murky, vaporous eyes narrowed as Dietrich slowly turned around, backing away from dumpster as a shaggy, scar-covered shape rose from behind the receptacle. Apparently his night just went from lousy to irreparably crappy. Ah well, the grey man held up a hand, muttering an invocation as the upraised appendage was quickly enveloped in a ghostly, off-white illumination, apparently preparing to fire off a metaphyisical boot to the head...
...Even as he quickly but discreetly shifted the muscles of his other arm to allow a small brown pouch to fall out of the sleeve of his long grey coat and into the palm of his hand, the string already coming loose, letting whatever strange substance that was inside become exposed to the air. The lightshow, of course, was little more than a carefully-crafted special-effects laden distraction.
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"Pacta Sunt Servanda"
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... The creature loomed towards Dietrich, canid fangs now fully beared. It climbed atop the dumpster cautiously and stood above the mage on all fours. Back arched, neck fur tufted out, ears flat against head, the monster looked about ready to tear a handful of meaty pieces from the merely astral-enhanced human. As Dietrich raised his distractible arm of glowy consequence, however, the beast tucked tail between legs and flinched slightly. Apparently flashy effects were seriously not on its' good side. Back legs tensed, though it was incertain if the creature was debating backing off or lunging to kill. All movements are going to be irratic when one is watching a feral, large wolf in scars and rags, after all. Especially when the creature started to rear up on two legs and completely fluff out its' fur to appear much larger than it already was... Which was pretty large. In the few seconds, however, this gave Dietrich all the time in the world to unveil his small bag of mysterious substances and tricks.
The bus didn't get far before two rounds of plasma hit one of the back tires and the rear fender, slowly gumming up and disolving what it touched. Dragging a bit then keeling slightly on the screwed tire, the bus left a pretty hefty drag mark in the road before it came to a complete stop. A large shadow slowly pooled from the bus towards the front while the side door and emergency back door opened. A few mostly human figures jumped out the side door and ran in the direction away from Caldera. The back exit, however, emersed itself in a quite different story. A handful of random weapons - most likely held by others of mutually human decent - poked out the back door and shot a barage of bullets in the hyena's direction.
During this gun pileup, the remaining occupants of the bus left in order out the back while shooting in the general direction of Caldera. There were about six in all. When/if they were able to get out the back, they would uniformly step to the side of the bus and back away from it. Never facing away from Cal.
Police sirens could be heard not far off, but not nearly close enough.
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And this is why he took cover behind the building.
Far from trying to stay and shoot it out with these weirdos, Cal sprints quietly along the building as the shooting starts. Let them think he was waiting to plug them. It would just burn time they could use to escape, find another bus to jack, or assault random passerby.
Still, he keeps his weapon out as he wends his way through, well, alleyways now, probably. Though he's not averse to scaling and going to the rooftops. It's not like he's never done that before...
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So, let us review, shall we? Rythem, having just finished his un-godly heavy duty spork, has just had a building colapse upon him. Further, to make matters worse, he's just had a pair of grenades fired at his position. Any sane, ordenary person would be panicing at this point... running for cover, screaming, not just... waiting there.
Rythem though, he's got a plan.
As the first grenade impacts, his claws fire out, his toes digging deep into the former roof of the building.
The first grenade goes off... Pitty there was nothing he could do about it, the shop owner is most defenitely going to be... shall we say... displeased.
Displeased in a job-ending sort of manner.
Still, he's got a grenade landing at his feet, and very little time to deal with it... so concern for his soon to be lost job is pressed aside in favor of continued survival.
His spork lashes out, jamming itself into the debree under the second grenade, and with a mighty heave throwing it a good twelve feet into the air. Now, that in itself would do next to nothing against a proper grenade...
So that's where the second part of his plan comes in. The spork, heavy as it is, isn't too big for him to move around quickly... so in the time it takes the grenade to shift trajectories, the spork has already twisted around, and is on a colision course.
Somewhere between baseball and golf, the swing should impact... quite likely setting off the grenade on the spot. Still, if the blow isn't enough to jar the timer, it'll send the grenade sailing marrily back in the direction it came from in the first place, leaving Rythem to try and figure out how not to get blamed for this...
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And the ominous light grew brighter and brighter...before it suddenly and completely winked out. Meanwhile at the same time Dietrich other arm whipped about fling the contents of the tiny brown pouch right at the werewolf's face. Provided it hits...and...well, provided the werewolf isn't protected against such baleful enchantments, Big Tall And Drooly'd be treated to the sensation of the thaumaturgically corrupted spores in the bag (activated by being exposed to the night air) trying their damndest to start dissolving fur and flesh alike. Normally, as in on a normal human being, this'd create a situation somewhat similar to the Ark of the Covenant scenario. But given the legendary regenerative abilities of lycanthropes it'd probably prove to be little more than a (albeit extremely painful and possibly blinding) distraction for the beast.
Which was about all Dietrich was aiming for really...he was for more interested in escape than he was in homicide. Hopefully the time spent by the werewolf clawing at it's face before the spores burnt themselves out'd give the grey man'd have ample time to induldge that interest with all due speed; if so he'd waste little in sprinting down the remainder of that alleyway and towards another on the other side. And if not...well...if push comes to shove, Dietrich has a few far more lethal 'tricks' up his sleeve.
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"Pacta Sunt Servanda"
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Cal runs through random allies with no real interuption give or take the random homeless person or cat to trip on. The random bums were unhappy at awakening and whined for the hyena anthro to sprint more quietly. Occational cats said about the same in their own distinct cat tongue, but more towards the fact that he interupted their concentration on trash sorting for food and sexual feline fantasies... The two main things that cats do during the night in random allies, after all.
Dietrich successfully retrieves his bag of white powder and mage mischeif. The werewolf distracted enough by the flashy arm blinking off suddenly and the concentration of standing on two paws to be completely defenseless in the matter.
However both objectives of these characters were to become inevitable mishaps due to a third member on the streets by the name of Rythem. That's right, let's blame Rythem. It's all Rythem's fault.
By the time Caldera ran headlong alleyway away from the terrorists with the dead bus, it soon became dreadfully quiet in that general area. Or, more precisely, the gunfire was drown out by the first eventual (yet delayed) gernade explosion around Rythem's location. It had no immediate effect to Caldera on his trip. However the debris from the explosion in Rhythem's fallen mechanic shop shot in every direction. A few crumbs of debris made it across the street and littered the alley right when Dietrich opened the bag. Out of sheer bad luck, one of these crumbs of debris - only a rock-sized piece of brick - riccochet off of the alley wall and smacked Dietrich in the arm that held said bag. This, in effect, ruined his plan of making some major spore damage to the monsters face. His release was off. Spores littered the alley... Especially the ground. Even so, a yelp sounded from the werewolf as it backed up, swiped at the air, turned around, and bounded off into the darkness of the alley. If it was actually hit or what the damage was is completely unclear. What should be clear is that Diet should make it out of the alley before the spores damage him, like they are now starting to cling to his grey clothing.
The second gernade sails towards Rythem. As delayed as the first, it doesn't go off when he scoop and swings it with his massive spork. Though that doesn't mean something didn't happen. A loose trail of the unknown liquid leaks from the gernade as it sails off back towards the west, also now covering the spork. It hits the northwest corner building and plinks to the ground harmlessly on the north street... Right where Caldera eventually runs out of alleys and steps out towards (north street, northwest buildings). The north, main street actually looked harmless at first. There was no real damage on this part of the road. That is, until that gernade falls about 10 feet from Cal.
It sits there.
Puffs once.
Delays...
Then goes off.
The result is some pretty decent destruction to the concrete and building it was near. Another, more unexpected event, was when the now settling stream of unknown fluid ignites like an old-fasioned gunpowder trail, burning a quick line of fire back down the street, around the corner, and stopping at Rythem.
Before Rhythem's weapon and general presences spontaniously combusts and if Dietrich gets out of the alley, they can both see down the road (towards the west) not only the gernade launcher in the center of the street, but also the tail end of a bus at the end. At the same time Rythem finds fire, the bus is sent up in a pretty massive explosion. A tire from it skids down the street towards their direction and the rest of what is left of the Whitehound bus engulfs in flames. The terrorists are nowhere in sight.
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Oh, great, a grenade. He's got no idea where it's come from, but he doesn't really like it. He does a quick reverse course, hastening around the nearest corner with as much speed as he can muster. At least his symbiote armor should keep the shrapnel off if he can't make it in time.
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Ah well...gone is gone as far as Dietrich's concerned. And the grey man wasted little time in turning around and heading in the opposite direction, explosions be damned, not bothering to waste time dispelling the rest of the spores, save the ones on his clothing...heck, the alley'll probably end up cleaner than it's ever been because of the things.
At any rate, the mage was quick to cut across the road once he was out of the alley, heading between for the space between the two buildings (dangerous as it was, the only other choice was to follow the wolfman after all) across the street, pretty well figuring Rhythem for little more than a gawking bystander (Yes, even if he is a hulking metal construct. This is Anycity after all). And all the while he grumbled to himself
"...Goddamn city's gone crazier than usual."
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"Pacta Sunt Servanda"
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Oh yes, lets blame Rythem... the only one involved with a good reason to be there, much less do anything usefull...
Still, he's covered in grenade goo... and it's only a matter of time before that trail of goo combusts.
Ah, yup, there it goes...
Well, in the brief moments before he lights up, Rythem's 'eyes and ears' are telling him that there's someone else nearby... Dietrich... so after just a half a second he's trying to call out a warning. "Hoy, this area is UNSAFE..."
A snake of fire, all the way back to our somewhat distracted 'bot.
Needless to say, he goes up like a goddamn roman [censored] candle 'o metal.
Kinda pretty, actually... well, if he wasn't flailing around wildly with the spork, yelling obscenities in a half dozen languages (built in translater, if you must know), and stumbling down... moving out onto the street.
It seems our 'bot has rather forgotten to kick in his thermographics... or that his current frame is nigh-immune to fire, even of this sort.
So, let's just sit back, grab some popcorn, and watch the show... shall we?
Oh, and trying to roast marshmellows on him would indeed be in poor taste.
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This will probably be the smallest post from Ame in history for an rp... Things just don't get this small when Ame posts something.. Maybe I should throw in some plot device to lengthen the post... Or some random foreshadowing thing...... To make it look like something important is going to happen but, infact, is simply me as a GM filling in space. Like I am now. Hey, speaking of filling in space, here's a picture of the current map and events that transpired (give or take a rocket launcher).
The blue letters are the charries. The reddish letters are the badguys. Then you have the red buildings as the damaged ones.. And those little red squares around Rythem and Dietrich? Yeah, those are cars that puffed up in the first post. As for that large red dot in the middle, that was a bloodstain from when a deadly gecko ripped open my index finger while working on the map... Though I can't quite explain how the blood got through the monitor into the comp... Alright, let's assume that's where all the destruction started... yeah.
Nothing really opposed Dietrich from his walse back out of the alley - presumably away from a certain big bag o bloody fleas - towards the area between two buildings. Or what were once buildings but are now large piles of dusty rubble. However before he made it all the way across the street, that one random citizen with the spork spontaniously combusts in a screaming fit of freeping panic. He would have been a flailing target for more explosives if those vampires down the street weren't too busy with fleeing on their own path.
Meanwhile Caldera was knocked back a bit by the gernade. This specific gernade made more sparks than damaging explosion. Oh sure it knocked a pretty good crater in the ground where it went off... And took a chunk out of the building next to it. But that was the extent of the damage what with it leaking out most of it's contents on the way over to the hyena. That saying, the air was probably taken out of Cal, but nothing else of mutual flesh and living importance.
Once Cal was done, the police sirens were now much closer than before. The cops were practically around the corner. Would only be a matter of a post and a half before they went down from the north. And what a scene that would be. A hyena anthro in body armor right next to one explosion that led in a small flaming trail to the rest of the destruction right down the street.
In a deeply important and foreshadowed moment, the scene is taken to an elaborate office. Deep brown, red, and gold was the general theme of the room. Around the office were high book shelves, curtains draped this way and that, candles coming out of the walls to give the room some decent light, and a large window practically covering an entire wall. The centerpiece of this room is an elaborate desk with an important figure sitting at it.
A phone rang on that desk. And a delicate hand caressed the reciever for a moment before answering with a rustic, female voice. "Yes, my dearest Ghentz? ... I know you are late..." The figure sighed as voices continued from the other end. "No, I will not beat you for this. Do not worry yourself to death over this... We can continue the plan tomorrow. Love you, too. Bye." Call cut short, she sighed, "My oh my, such a busy night."
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Caldera has no desire to stick around - flaming crater, bus, grenade, police and all. So where does he go? Upward! Whether it's fire escape, drainpipe, or plain wall, Cal starts scaling the building. He's pretty darn good at it too - increased upper body strength combined with years of experience mean he's a decent climber. Besides, once he's got some height he might get some perspective on this whole mess.
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Can Dietrich go five seconds without something nearby bursting into flames?
...Please?
At any rate, as the robot suddenly burst into flame Dietrich skidded to a halt with a muffled curse before taking a sharp right turn away from the flaming robot...though god only knows what he'll be walking into next...
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"Pacta Sunt Servanda"
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After a few moments of wild flailing, Rythem seems to have had enough. The spork digs deeply into the colapsed building around him, giving him something to brace against as his back pops.
It's the pop of a high preassure line triggering a serries of relief valves, if you must know. In this case, the relief valves happen to be those of his fire supression mainline, which begens, in turn, spiewing a chemical bath forth from his body with many of the properties of Haylon.
Now, incendiary gell or no, that fire won't last long against a Haylon spray... which should put Rythem out... at least, for the moment. The gell will be there untill it runs out.
Now, with the flame (hopefully) taken care of, he begens looking about... the sudden out-of-nowhere attack having caught him off guard. So, while what he's looking for is unclear, at best, it's safe to assume he's looking for people with grenade launchers... or those who may be trapped under a certain building... or, perhaps, a good place to get a cup of coffee and get some laundry done.
Even robots have needs, after all.
So, what about it? What's there that he can see?
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Caldera found a nice flat, virtical wall to scale. However has anyone actually seen another person try to climb a sheer, flat wall before? Seen any humans lately freak out to the point that they try to retreat up a wall to saftey? Now I'm no expert on anthropomorphology, but if humans can't do it, and I know Hyenas aren't the best climbers in the animal kingdom, I'm pretty bloody sure that Caldera is going to end up not having much to any success climbing that nice, flat, virtical wall next to him. Brick or not. Probably looks a hamster trying to walk up the side of a glass surface, actually. And the hidden fireescape in the alley next to the massive, flaming crater isn't going to help... Oh, alright. Next to Caldera is a pipe. A very nice pipe... That's virtical. A Nice, vertical pipe. He climbs up that without many problems aside from any rafter issues the building might have in the near future. Onto the flat, horizontal roof just in time to see a handful of police cars scream around the corner.
Fact, those are the same police cars that Rythem is going to see (after he realizes that there's only one gernade launcher in the area... Sadly with no owner.. And a few flaming cars.) and Dietrich is going to practically walk into. Because it just wouldn't cap off Dietrich's wonderful night without some sirenes blaring deafeningly out of nowhere and about three cop cars nearly run him over as he walks away from the previously flaming robot with the menacing spork.
These were no ordinary cop cars. Recently, the Anycity police department was cut back drastically in funds. As there haven't been many problems in Anycity for the last few years, people assumed that the cops shouldn't waste the extra cash sitting all day and eating donuts. Therefore... These were no ordinary cop cars. These were two door geo metros painted to look like cop cars. Fully equiped with radios, sirenes, and flashy lights. If any of you aren't accustomed to what a geo metro is, here's a breif description: Car They are a small variety of metropolis car that's built low to the ground. A few years ago the geo company was bought out by another and the cars were no longer made. So there really have been no improvements to the model. Power steering, very shoddy brakes, but overall a cute vehical. The only cop car on the police force is the one that patrols nightly, which is a regular cop car model. Where that specific cop car is is as of yet unknown. So into the scene comes these squealing cars making a load of noise and blinking a ton of lights.
Cops eventually pile out from these cars after they wane, nearly tip, then stop around the gernade launcher. Like clowns on a bad circus performance, cops literally pile from the cars. A few go towards the gernade launcher cautiously, others aim towards Dietrich and Rythem. The one in charge is a warthog anthro. Stout, grey beard from ear to ear. He calls out in a voice that manages over the sirenes with no difficulty, "FREEZE! You're under arrest!"
Unluckily for Caldera, he happened to climb up into the wrong place at the wrong time. Scaling up the pipe and getting onto the mysteriously shadowed building roof in time to miss the cops, he now faces a danger so viscious and fearsome that even he could not win against it. Creeping from the shadows in a murderious, mysteriously unknown presence. Baring teeth, claws out, Eyes glowing like the fire across the street! It slithers towards Caldera like a python and reeps up his spine like a chainsaw. Manacingly wrapping it's tendrils of utter darkness around him like the horrid monster it was. Breathing rasps down the back of his neck in a warm rush of air. Reeking stench of smoke and. Wait for it. Oh, wait, my mistake. It was only the chimney stack behind him puffing out smoke. Someone must've forgotten to turn off the heat before they left the building that night or something. Ha... My mistake. There's really nothing major that Caldera should concern himself with. If he looks over the roof he can see Deitrich and Rythem being targetted for cop gunfire not too far down the street. He could also see towards the west that the characters around the flaming bus are completely gone.
Another pic of an actual policecar I happened to find matching the description. It's both cool and extremely scary that one exists. Copy/paste http://geodriver.tripod.com/pictures/98metrocopcar.jpg
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Far be it from Cal to interrupt the police. Besides, it'd be pretty stupid to try and mess with a bunch of people with guns who have every right to be doing what they're doing.
Aside from the scary chimney, the hyena glances around to make sure there are no other lurking threats before starting to go rooftop-to-rooftop. Mostly, he's trying to work his way out of the danger area while trying to keep an eye out for more...weird things.
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Oi...and as the long arm of the law reached out to yank Dietrich up by the collar of his coat he just...silently raised his arms in the air, as ordered. Far be it for him to mouth off to Johnny Law, such incidents usually ended in a nightstick drubbing of epic proportions. And so the grey man was...under arrest.
Goddammitall but there's going to be some consequences and repercussions tossed about once he manages to find a way out of this mess.
--------------------
"Pacta Sunt Servanda"
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Well, with all that's gone wrong so far tonight 'freeze' and 'your under arrest' just had to be added...
It's one of those universal laws. There's no bad situation out there that a bunch of irritated cops can't make worse. Still, knowing the local legal system well enough to get a lisense as a search and rescue bot does have it's perks.
"Erm, point of logic, officer..." He calls out, holding his spork high in the air in what some might consiter a threatening manner. He's also still covered in flamable goo.
"... I'm afraid that, under the uniform code of anycity justice, any first generation AI is only consittered a person for the purposes of taxation and social justice. We never really got involved in your criminal justice system, so... at the risk of making you look foolish, I can't technicly be arrested"
He pauses a moment, spork coming down slowly. Of course, there are certain flaws with being an AI... or, at least in this case... See, for one, he has a bad habbit of volentearing information.
"Of course, if I were to pose a significant danger to myself, an officer, or the public at large... Or under emergency circumstances, as decided by a local judge up to seventy two hours after the fact, you're leagally empowered to confiscate me, impound me, or have me towed away at owners expence..."
The oddest part of this entire thing isn't the robot quoting law... over a built in megaphone, of sorts. No, it isn't that. Nor is it the spork that he's waving around as he gestures. The strangest thing out of all of this, the observant viewer will no doubt note, is that the slime covering him is moving to the point that it nearly covers the handle of the spork... making it slippery.
Just a half moment later, he makes one gesture too many, and his own metal scrapes along that of the spork... sparking...
We all know what happens when sparks hit flamable gells, right?
Good.
Then it should come as no suprise that Rythem is back to flailing, his spork slipping loose from his hands... still on fire... and hurrling twords the geo-bragade at an alarming speed.
So, lets just see what happens from here, shall we?
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Now where did I leave the rp last before someone took their time in posting and completely screwed up my concentration (you know who you are)? Oh yeah!
Dietrich voluntarily went along with the police. He was escorted towards the Geo cop car, properly handcuffed and read his rights, then - unless he otherwise complains and gets knocked upside the head with a wand - is put in the car. Although it's a small car, the backseat is clearly divided from the front seat and designed for those of criminal intent. No real incident came out this... Sadly...
Next comes Rythem, who was giving the cops a hard time. The warhog in charge furrowed his brows and left out an aggrivated snort as the robot swung around his massive spork like a true democrate in action. Of course, the other cops were terribly worried over this, a few that had guns were holding them and shaking pretty badly... Though not out of fear, not at all. Out of concern over that spork. Say it gets loose and they have to dive out of the way? Yeah, it's that sorta considerative paranoia that makes this cop force proud. And damned be it all if they weren't right over getting a little worried about it. That spork, along with the robot, blew up in flames with one flick. Then like some 12th century weapon of malicious intent, it sailed towards the geos. One geo, inparticular... Guess which one?
If you've been the observant rper, I did say in the second paragraph that poor Dietrich was going to have no real incident in this post. Well, I lied! MUAHAHA!! That spork careens straight for the window next to him and, like any normal cop car, it's locked from the outside so simply opening the door wont be an option. Mr Warthog, watching the spork-vaulting in progress, grits his tusks and aims his gun. Two shots reign over the air.
Where was Caldera in all this? Roofhopping, of course! Away from the entire rp. Getting away wont be the easiest thing in the world, it seems. He went across the roofs to a point that there were simply no more roofs to hop. That is, he hit the corner of the building complex. That corner (if you look at the map) facing the now dead bus. How in the world could he have made a complete turn around? It's easy to locate where you're going on the streets, but the rooftops are a maze all their own. Why doesn't he simply turn around and go back from where he once came?
The two bullets whizzed through the air, hitting the soaring spork of DOOM. It bounced off at just an angle where the spork missed it's tragectory, skidded off Dietrich's car (leaving a small dent in the roof that's far from life-threatening), and sporked the ground not too far off... Partway into the car next to Diet. It began to set on fire.
Taking immediate action, the cops went to their free cars, opened the trunks, and removed fire extinguishers. "Put it all out, including that waste of gears." the hoggish leader of the group stated exasperatingly. They would, by the end of this post, successfully have doused the harmlessly flaming geo, spork, and Rhythem with Co2... Give or take a few minutes to chase Rythem around a bit. If only spontaniously combusting robots would stay still!
"'Ello there" a pretty challanging and gruff voice stated behind jaws of rediculously sharp teeth.
Should Caldera turn around, he would find a steroid-pushing bear anthro with gleeming red eyes staring him over. Obvious fangs protruding from one wicked smile. "Whuat brings you out 'ere tonight. Come to enjoy the fireworks?" His smile expanded to twice it's side, if that's even possible. It looks like his jaw muscles are ripping in a few places from doing so and his gums are rolling in on themselves. The teeth are longer, "Or are 'ou interested in becoming one of us?"
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Well, crap. Caldera eyes the blown-up bus for a moment before turning around to frown at the vampy. "Go chomp a garden hose." He points at the bear, his hand empty for a moment before he says, "Boom." That's when he palms his plasma pistol, firing off a short before returning it to its hidden holster, fast as fast can be. Not bothering to sum up the usefulness of the attack, he leaps off the side of the building.
Well, not really. If there's a fire escape, power line, anything that runs from roof to ground, he'll grab that and slide on down, using his armor gauntlets for protection. If not, he'll use his symbiote weapon and ruin the brickwork by stabbing it in, hand-over-handing it diagonally down the building.
He'll end up by the bus, should all go well, which he prowls around...mostly looking for the jokers from earlier, or any vamps that might be around, given that there's better light here.
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