[NE] Actual Play Plot Point Campaign - Player's Perspective

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#221 Postby geijhan » Mon Dec 27, 2010 4:40 am


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#222 Postby Antithesis » Tue Jan 04, 2011 7:20 am

soon? its been a month man! can't you see your fans are frothing at the mouth in anticipation?

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#223 Postby Gospog » Tue Jan 04, 2011 10:22 am

Hey Everyone!

It's just about done, hang in there!

(been a little crazy with New Years and some Big Life Changes happening right now)

If I can edit it tonight, I'll post it tonight or tomorrow!
"I am forced to believe you guilty of impertinence, impiety, disregard and impudicity."

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Game 21 (Merry Christmas, Happy New Year...we are back!)

#224 Postby Gospog » Sat Jan 08, 2011 7:19 pm

Date: December 17th
Therapist: Dr. Leonard Mortin
Subject: Omega
Session 199

DR.MORTIN: This is very generous of you, Dr. Omega. I didn’t expect to see my family for the holidays.

OMEGA: Christmas!

DR.MORTIN: Wha-? Sorry, what?

OMEGA: You said “the holidays”. Hanukah is over. It’s Christmas now. Is there a problem, Dr. Mortin?

DR.MORTIN: It’s just that…no. No problem.

OMEGA: Are you sure, Dr. Mortin?

DR.MORTIN: I'm actually kind of, you know...Jewish.

OMEGA: Merry Christmas, Dr. Mortin.

DR.MORTIN: M-merry Christmas, Dr. Omega. So, are the Omega Men celebrating the- Christmas in any special way?

OMEGA: Oh yes, we had a pot luck and a Yankee Swap. And then we assassinated some V’sori. It started out very festive, you see…

Dr. Omega set his Rice Krispie treats down on the Omega Meeting table, next to the koala jerky (courtesy of UPS). He had made sure to throw a dusting of white flour on his skull-shaped helmet. His henchmen needed to know how much work he’d put into this! The large conference table was groaning under dozens of dishes. Each supervillain had brought his specialty.

And yet…no one was eating. At the supervillain pot luck, no one wanted to be the first to try the food made by other criminals. Dr. Omega frowned behind his face plate. Someone needed to try his Rice Krsipie treats. How else would he be able to test the mind-control nanites?

Omega sat on this throne and steepled his Santa Claus oven mitts before his face plate. The party was going well. The tree didn’t have an inch of empty space beneath it. Even his undocumented minions had all brought gifts, wrapped in the most festive paper they could steal. Angela was MIA, but Omega knew that typically spent the holidays in a hotel in New Jersey, drinking sake and watching Doctor Who re-runs. Must be a ninja thing.

The doorbell rang. Mr. Clean stood from lowering a giant pot of meatballs onto the meeting table (much to the relief of the starving guests) and started to cross to the door. Scrape barreled past him. “Got it!”

A delivery driver stood in the door with a package for Dr. Omega. To his credit, he did not run screaming when he saw Scrape is his festive Santa hat. He held out a trembling hand with a pen in it, “S-sign, please?”

Scrape made sure his virulent flesh touched the driver’s hand as he took the pen. He signed. The driver began to back away. “Merry Christmas, pal.”

Scrape looked down at the doomed man, who had only hours to live. “I’d spend tonight with your family, if I were you.”

The man ran into his truck, screaming in terror. Scrape heard a metallic clicking noise from the back of the truck and then a gunshot. Bright red blood decorated the snow outside the truck.

Scrape adjusted his Santa hat and shambled over to the delivery van, looking at the manifest lying on the passenger seat. “46 more deliveries? And this guy’s dead. Somebody’s got to save Christmas!”


Inside the Omega Mansion, the door slammed open. The Huntsman stalked in, carrying a dozen blood-covered pizza boxes. Despite the blood, these were as well-received as the meatballs had been. “Hey boss-man, choo having a merry Christmas or what?”

Dr. Omega looked up to answer when the doorbell rang again. The Huntsman dumped the pizzas on the table and got the door himself. He came back leading an attractive young woman in a SOCORP uniform. His hands stayed conspicuously near his weapons.

Dr. Omega spread his Santa oven mitts. “Welcome and Merry Christmas, Ms…?”

The woman looked around with a scowl. “Let’s just say that I’m here with a message from Destruction and leave it at that.”

Dr. Omega nodded. “Spies in SOCORP, eh? Impressive. What is the message?”

“I have here four tickets to very special…sporting event. An aquatic death-match to be held at the Star City Aquarium!”

Omega leaned forward in his throne, his curiosity piqued. “I assume Destruction has some annoying errand he expects us to run there?”

“He does. He-“

The Huntsman interrupted. “Screw dis, boss. Don’t trust her, she’s a double agent. I gotta feeling about dis one, she ain’t telling you everything.”

The woman’s hand shot towards the holster at her hip. The Huntsman moved inhumanly fast, grabbing her wrist and twisting. There was a sharp cracking noise. She sneered into his face. “You…you’re hurting me. I think I like you.”

The hunter let her go and produced a card from his sleeve, handing it to her. “Maybe you give me a call later, hey?”

“Maybe I will.”

Constant eye contact.

“Jeah. Maybe you will.”

Dr. Omega rose and gestured to the door. “Well, this has been…disturbing, but as you can see, we’re about to start the Yankee Swap. I assume all of the details of this little errand are on the data disc that the Huntsman lifted out of your belt pouch? Merry Christmas. Go away.”

Mr. Clean walked back into the room, leading another young lady, this one a red-head and scowling, if anything, more than the SOCORP agent had. This new guest was dressed for a holiday party (an adult holiday party). She planted her hands on hips. “Who the hell do you people think you are? I don’t-“

Dr. Omega raised his hand and pulled the Santa oven mitt off of it, triggering his medical array mounted on that gauntlet. A tiny needle of solidified medication shot from the array into the woman’s neck. She sank to the floor in a relaxed seated position. “Whew”.

Dr. Omega leaned back. Kyle had been missing for weeks. Being away from his medication for that long was dangerous. Omega added this new, female identity to his growing list of personalities that the Coyote liked to assume. Fascinating.

The doors burst open again. Scrape walked in, covered in blood and gore and wearing a Santa hat. He dropped a pile of house keys onto the floor by the door.

“Scrape, where the hell have you been?”

“Saving Christmas, Dad.”

“Why are you covered in blood?”

“Not everyone was good this year.”

“Ok. Well, let’s start the Yankee swap, shall we? UPS, light the tree and we’ll begin!”

Dr. Omega himself started the process, picking a gift and unwrapping a selection of Russian meats and cheeses. UPS bobbed proudly.

The Shugenja strolled into the room, carrying a large metal pot that turned out to be empty. “May this pot be filled with luck!” The evil sorcerer grinned from ear to wrinkled ear as he placed the pot on the table..

“In spite of your sucky empty pot, you may also participate in the Yankee Swap. You go next.” Dr. Omega gestured imperiously.

The rest of the gifts were not so prosaic as the selection of meats and cheeses. They included (to name just a few):

A leather jacket. The left sleeve still has a handcuff attached to it. The chain of the handcuff has been sawn through.
A shiny black coffin containing one recently kidnapped and sedated Paris Hilton.
Adult Comic Book (3-D glasses are missing).
Armored codpiece.
Derek Jeter (dead and stuffed in a box)
A small glass vial of clear liquid and a note, “For when two legs just aren’t enough.”
Half a dozen Polaroid photos of the Huntsman in the bathroom. Two are stuck together.
3 syringes full of unidentified substances.
Bottle of mid-range white wine.
An alarm clock. It is counting down…
A dead raccoon with an oven mitt shoved up it.
Chloroform-soaked rags (in a gift bag).
Home enema kit.
Angela’s hairbrush (crusted over)
Angela’s panties.
Vertebreakers' bed linens

Despite the explosive death of three undocumented minions, the Yankee Swap was deemed a great success by the Omega Men. After the festivities, the team assembled over the holiday food to review the mission dropped on them by Dr. Destruction.

Dr. Omega spread a few pictures and print-outs out over the Omega Meeting table. “We’ll be infiltrating the Aquarium to kill Darb, a vicious V’sori leader. He’s a real up-and-coming military mind and will be at the fights to compete. On a personal level, I’m looking forward to seeing what really happens behind closed doors there. Are there any questions?”

Omega fielded the usual mix of stupid questions, lurid suggestions and the occasional brilliant idea. Dr. Omega himself would attend the party out of his armor and therefore in disguise. The Huntsman would be invisible and Vertebreaker obtained a potion from the Shugejna that allowed him to take the form of any person he wished for a few hours. He immediately chose Susan Boyle. Scrape had the same potion and immediately chose the guise of Kyle (the Coyote)!

Kyle had previously used his guise as “the hot redhead” to get a job as Mayor Jerry Perez's secretary. She would also be his date to the death match. UPS informed the team that he had special plans for his disguise. With that, he disappeared to his quarters in the attic.

Since they had a week until the event, the following week was filled with preparations. Dr. Omega altered his suit so that it collapsed into metal bands around his waist, collar, wrists and ankles. At a command from him, the suit expanded, plate by plate, out from these collars to protect him completely.

The Coyote found him a day or two later. Kyle had been studying the cloning process of Colonel Clone and used his discoveries to ask some very pointed questions of the Colonel. It turned out that Colonel Clone was fonder of his fingers and toes than he was of his secrets. He informed Kyle that he himself is just a clone of one of the existing clones and that the original Colonel Clone died long ago.

The clones that remain know the process of cloning very well, but none of them know how to create the “goo” that the Colonel uses as the vital ingredient in his process. As it stands, they were down to two canisters of the substance, which Kyle subsequently stole.

“Excellent work. Your skill in chemistry and biology is most impressive.” Omega slapped him on the back. Working together, the evil mastermind and the shape-shifter even replicated the “goo” used to start a clone “cooking”. But the mixture would take time to cure. For now, they had two canisters with which to start clones. Who to clone?

Kyle produced a vial of blood from Mayor Jerry Perez as an answer. Asking no questions, Omega began the process. Later that night, Dr. Omega left bed and stomped down to the secret Omega Lab, stopping only briefly in the kitchen. Stuffing a twinkie in his bathrobe pocket, he mumbled “What the hell, why not?” as he added a sample of his own blood to the second canister of cloning goo and started the process. He closed the lid of the haemoclyclic converter and mumbled “See you in 6 months” before staggering back upstairs.


A week later, the disguised Omega Men attended the sporting event. Their disguises worked as planned. They settled into their seats and few of the other attendants gave them so much as a second look, even Susan Boyle.

The fights started with a V'sori warrior facing off against two K'tharen. He defeated them easily and the water clouded with blood. The V'sori cleaned his knife as the gate at the bottom of the giant water tank opened up and the next challenged swam up.

The newcomer looked like a sick hybrid of a K'tharen and a human, heavily muscled and mostly made up of razor-sharp teeth. A chime sounded in time with a green light set into the wall of the tank. The hybrid flew at the V'sori and removed his arm with his first bite.

Thrashing bodies churned the blood in the water, clouding the view for the onlookers, who crowded the edges of the circular tank. As the crowd was clearly distracted, Dr. Omega grabbed Kyle by the arm and said, “Look, it's a V'sori scientist and he's taking notes. The game's afoot!”

Dr. Omega motioned for the Huntsman to follow him as well, but the hunter had seen the K'tharen hybrid fight and was already stripping down to the waist. Omega could see him approaching the V'sori warlord about to enter the tank with a stack of twenty dollar bills in his hand.

The V'sori scientist was clearly surprised to be addressed by name, but as they got closer, Dr. Omega recognized him as famed V'sori geneticist Sm'ith. “Dr. Smi'ith I am a big fan of your work recombining intra-species DNA, I read all your papers!”

“Oh! Well, always nice to meet a fan, Mister...?”

“Blank Warrington. I deal with maritime shipping, coastal properties, that sort of thing. I am also an amateur scientist. But enough about me! That hybrid fighting in the tank, that has got to be your work! I simply must know more!”

“Oh, yes well...” The scientist was clearly conflicted. He was no doubt under strict oaths of secrecy from his alien masters but the chance to show off to another scientist was clearly a great temptation for him. “I suppose it wouldn't hurt to show you the lab. Would you like to see it?”

“Oh, very much. Lead on, doctor, lead on.”


Meanwhile, the Huntsman had made Darb an offer he could not refuse. Whatever the details of the offer were, both men had stripped down and climbed into the enormous fighting tank, to fight side by side. The original playbill had listed a fight featuring Darb and one of the monstrous K'tharen hybrids. The Huntsman had raised the stakes a little.

As the two men drew long-bladed knives, four of the hybrids swam up from the gate at the bottom of the tank. Unable to shout with his SCUBA gear on, the Huntsman did an underwater fist pump, unable to contain his joy.

The two warriors swam in place until they were back to back. The four mutated beasts closed in...


Beneath the spectators at the arena, Dr. Smi'ith led Omega and Kyle to a Restricted Access area of the Aquarium. In his secret lab, he showed them the origins of the project that spawned the K'tharen hybrids. “K'tharen were not my first choice, no. Too aggressive. They make good shock troops but they aren't terribly flexible in their thinking, you know? The ones you saw upstairs are barely in control. Not suitable for use in occupations, for example.”

The Doctor pressed a button and a metal panel slid aside, revealing another water tank, this one filled with humanoids much smaller than the monstrous K'tharen hybrids. These creatures had skin that was light blue, almost teal in color. Their sleek bodies sported webbed fingers and toes but little else that was decidedly aquatic. As the panel slid aside, several of them darted away from it, lightning fast.

“Now these...these were my first attempt to combine V'sori and human DNA. They are intelligent but far too passive for our purposes. They make horrible soldiers. Even with hypno-induction administered as they sleep, they could not learn to fight.”

Dr. Omega was intrigued. “So, this control array over here, it allows you to place them in a sleep-like state and then this apparatus allows you to essentially program them as they sleep?”

“Yes, but only because they are so docile to begin with. It's integral to who they are, I am afraid. I keep them around, just in case I find a use for them.”

“I see. And the other stage of the project we saw upstairs?”

“Yes. Quite so. I'm afraid that's as far as I've come. I've been stalled in my research for months.”

Dr. Omega triggered the button that caused his armor to slide into place. “Kyle, see the doctor out, would you?”

“Wha-? What is the meaning of- urk!” A serrated blade of hardened flesh burst from the doctor's chest. The Coyote lifted him by this new appendage and carried him out of the lab. “On it, boss.”

Dr. Omega turned to the controls for the holding tank. “Time to sleep, my friends.” With a brief adjustment of the controls, the V'sori hybrids were all floating peacefully in their tank. The evil doctor entered a new string of commands into the array meant to program the hybrids. He included the location of his undersea marina where his Atlanteans lived. He also encoded genetic instructions for the V'sori hybrids to serve the Atleanteans and cater to their every whim.

He hit the button to wake the hybrids, followed by the button to open the tank into the Atlantic Ocean. “Merry Christmas, Atlantean warriors of Omega.”

As Dr. Omega and The Coyote rejoined the other Omega Men upstairs, neither was the least bit surprised to see that all hell had broken loose.

The Huntsman had slaughtered all but one of the K'tharen hybrids and seemed to be doing as much harm to Darb now as he was to the mutated shark alien.

Vertebreaker had regained his true form, as had Scrape. They were helping R3X engage a pack of V'sori war-spheres flying in the rafters of the aquarium. Kyle saw Mayor Jerry Perez being ushered out of the area and sprinted after his mob of security. He was slowed down by the crush of bodies trying to escape the observation area and settled for taking a few blaster shots at the retreating politician and his bodyguards.

Just then, UPS arrived, crashing through the glass ceiling plates in his new “disguise”. The electrical Ukranian had removed Derek Jeter's face and pasted it onto the body of a V'sori Drone. He did the same thing with the skin of Jeter's hands. The deceased ball-player's uniform, soaked in blood, finished the disguise.

This vision in insanity dropped in from the shattered roof, terrfiying an already panicked crowd. They stampeded out of the aquarium. UPS raised flesh covered pincers, “What”? I am baseball player.”

Kyle saw a chance to flush the rotten Mayor of Star City for good. The Mayor and his security detail were heading down the spiral ramp that lead out of the aquarium. The Coyote slammed down a nearby lever that locked all emergency exits. He then took careful aim with his blaster and shot a large crack in the water tank of the aquarium.

The Huntsman was just emerging from the tank with the severed head of Darb in his hand. He leaped nimbly to the observation deck as the tank quickly and explosively drained of water!

The crack that The Coyote had made widened into a bursting torrent of seawater. It crashed into the spiral exit ramp and swept up Mayor Perez and his goons. They all got a lightnig-fast ride to the bottom, where the water drained away, depositing them in a heap on the ground near the exit. Kyle leaned over the safety railing at the top, “Ha ha.”

The Huntsman held a hand to his ear and looked over at Dr. Omega. “I hear sirens. We better get gone, ok?”

“Ok. Omega Men, we're leaving.” In the confusion, it was easy for them to slip out the upper-level exits.

Back at the Omega mansion, the Omega men dried out and got ready to head to bed (those that lived in the mansion). Scrape looked over to Dr. Omega, “Dad, do you hear screaming coming from downstairs? From the marina?”

“Why yes, my boy. You're not the only one who played Santa this year.”
"I am forced to believe you guilty of impertinence, impiety, disregard and impudicity."

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Re: Game 21 (Merry Christmas, Happy New Year...we are back!)

#225 Postby Sitting Duck » Sun Jan 09, 2011 8:42 am

Yet another hilarious account of the adventures of the Omega Men.

Gospog wrote:At the supervillain pot luck, no one wanted to be the first to try the food made by other criminals.

No surprise there.

Someone needed to try his Rice Krispie treats. How else would he be able to test the mind-control nanites?

Such a dilemma.
The rabbit is cuddly. Kids like little cuddly sidekicks. I mean... The rabbit... It's a time-tested... Okay, the rabbit bites.
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#226 Postby Gospog » Fri Jan 14, 2011 2:28 pm

When's the next game, you ask?

Howsabout TOMORROW? :blam:

Just saying. :cool:
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#227 Postby FoxBlue » Fri Jan 14, 2011 6:18 pm

Can't wait for the write up!

It's like waiting for the next Harry Potter to come out back when Harry Potter was cool! or something like that.


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Game 22 - WARNING - PLOT POINT SPOILERS (probably)

#228 Postby Gospog » Sun Jan 23, 2011 9:56 pm

Date: January 15th
Therapist: Dr. Leonard Mortin
Subject: Omega
Session 203

DR.MORTIN: Dr. Omega, I noticed that my restraints were loosened for the past few sessions. And I hear my family got extra food in their cell. Is...there something going on? Something you might want to talk about?

OMEGA: Do you think I'd make a good superhero?

DR.MORTIN: WHAT? I mean, I'm not... I don't know what to say, exactly.

OMEGA: You may answer without fear of me killing you today. A hero. Do you think I could be a hero?

DR.MORTIN: Dr. Omega, you kill heroes.

OMEGA: Not true. I put them in death traps. What happens after that is up to them. And to be fair, they escape pretty often.

DR.MORTIN: That's actually a valid point. Huh. Does this have anything to do with those people I saw in the Omega Mansion last week? Wasn't Meanstreak one of them?

OMEGA: Oh. Maybe.

DR.MORTIN: Maybe we'd better start at the beginning, Dr. Omega.

OMEGA: Perhaps we should...

Dr. Omega hung up the phone. He had just been considering whether he should schedule the next Omega Meeting or simply place his head in his desk drawer and then slam it shut. Both produced the same effect.

But then the phone rang and it was Crab Imperial, his old friend and partner in crime. He and Imperial had terrorized California and Texas as teenagers. It was what had drawn the attention of Project Zenith, actually. Ah, those were the days...

Crab imperial was sending over a new minion who needed employment. Apparently the minion, a man by the name of Viejo Cabron, lost his day job at the Shady Oak golf course in North Point. Something about construction going on or something. Whatever. Crab Imperial didn't need another Rangoon right now and Omega needed to replace losses in the ranks of his own minions. Saved him a ride to Price Choppper.

The doorbell of the mansion rang and Dr. Omega could hear Kyle and Vertebreaker greet the new minion. “That was fast.”

The evil mastermind reclined in his throne as Viejo Cabron was brought in to meet him. But before he could make a suitably terrifying impression, his henchmen started babbling. “Hey boss, this guy says that the V'sori are playing golf!”

Vertebreaker shoved his way to the front of the pack jostling Viejo forward. “No, brother! The V'sori are at the golf course and are the ones who have shut it down. They are digging under the 19th Hole! Too bad too, it's a pretty sweet club. All I'm saying is that I love the 19th Hole and I'm in there as much as possible.”

Dr. Omega ignored the anatomical implications such a statement made by default. “And what are they digging for, pray tell?”

“No se”

UPS bobbed lower, “He doesn't know but it's probably something good, huh boss?”

Omega stood and used his armor's translator to address his new minion. “I am your new lord and master, Dr. Omega! Go down to the basement lab and the other minions will get you set up with a cot and some food. Oh, and they usually like to perform the hazing and initiation rites early on. Are you a bleeder? No matter. You may leave me now. Go!”

By the time Omega had finished his speech, his clone sons and henchmen had gone as well. A few minutes later, he could see Vertebreaker and Angela following UPS into the delivery truck that Scrape had left in the driveway last month, at Christmas. Kyle was driving. They all piled into it and it rolled off, presumably to the dig site at Shady Oaks in North Point.

The Huntsman materialized from invisibility near Omega's grounded throne. “Boss man. Choo want me to go check out dat dig site and let you know what I see?”

“Yes. By all means. Report via comm bead as soon as you know anything.”

“Choo got it, boss man.”

“Mr. Clean, this is Doctor Omega. Prep the cargo helicopter for take-off within the hour. Mobilize the minions and arm the sober ones.”

At the golf course, a force of some of the most powerful villains Star City has ever known had hit their first insurmountable obstacle: the night time security guard.

“Who did you say you were?”

Kyle leaned forward, out of the truck window. “I'm just the delivery guy but this package has to be signed for by Dave Blumpkin, Director of Marketing. I can't leave until I get his signature.”

“Hold on, son.” The security guard picked up the handset of an old rotary phone and started talking. He hung up. “You must have gotten mixed up, boy. You mean Stan Stumpkin? Over in building four?”

Kyle smiled wider than most humans are able. “Why yes, that's exactly who I mean. Thank you, sir.” The gate bar rose and the delivery truck rolled in.

The Huntsman prowled invisibly around the edges of the dig site. Six muscled K'tharen worked hard with shovels, clearing the way for larger digging equipment that currently stood dormant. Among them walked a V'sori in a lab coat. The alien was making notes on a clipboard and taking frequent measurements from a variety of nearby apparatus.

The Huntsman leaned precariously over the edge to see what all of the floodlights pointing into the pit were illuminating. He caught himself just before whistling out loud.

“Hokay boss, choo not gonna believe dis and bring extra pants.”

Just then, gunfire erupted from the area around the dig site. The Huntsman correctly assumed that the other Omega Men had arrived.

“I didn't tell you to stop here, brother!” Vertebreaker scratched his head with his scorpion tail.

“Well, it wasn't my idea, either!” Kyle held his hands away from the steering wheel. Outside the windshield, about thirty V'sori drones were closing in on them, with air support from a handful of war-spheres. Even worse, an M'buna transport was parked at the back of the lot they were all in. A transport like that could hold even more K'tharen and had large blaster cannons mounted on it.

Angela stuck her head out of a side window to get a look, “We're screwed.”

UPS emerged from the dashboard and re-formed. “I stopped the van. It's time to make our move! Vertebreaker, go! Go!”

Vertebreaker jumped out of the side doors of the truck and charged the robotic goons, smashing into a large crowd of them as they opened fire. Angela shrugged and jumped out after him, throwing electro-knives and using Vertebreaker as cover.

UPS flowed into the body of a drone and started to slowly walk across the parking lot to the M'buna at the back. He was trying hard to blend in with the others drones.

Kyle decided to check out the golf course itself. He turned into a ferret and scampered off.

Dr. Omega was deep in thought as the gold-plated helicopter flew to the dig site. It was a little ostentatious for his needs, but it was a stroke of luck that the Mansion had a cargo helicopter that could accommodate what the Huntsman had seen in the hole: a cosmic robot!

Omega had immediately done as much online research as he could on the robot. The cosmic robot had been brought to Earth by the Outsider and was fought to a stand-still by Champion. In the end, Champion defeated the cosmic-powered automaton by tearing it into several pieces. It had been commonly held that those pieces were long since lost.

They were coming up on the site now. Apparently, the pieces were not lost. They were here.

Huntsman walked up behind the V'sori scientist, invisible and undetected. He pushed him in the hole.

The V'sori's scream was cut short as the Huntsman grabbed him by the collar, arresting his fall some twenty feet down. The Huntsman himself was held aloft by R3X, his faithful, flying war-sphere. The hunter of heroes had some time ago fitted R3X with stirrups on two of his guiding fins. When required, R3X could “give him a lift”. When doing so, the war-sphere was invisible, too.

“So...” the Huntsman lowered his voice as he shook the scientist slightly, “Was in his pockets den, hey?”

Kyle's hunch paid off. On the golf course, he spotted some groundsmen that clearly were not groundsmen at all. Their poor disguises covered the type of costumes superbeings typically wore. All spandex and visors. Worse yet, they were cleaning up the grounds, working steadily and doing a good job. He shook his ferret head. Amateurs.

One of the three impostors was a woman who looked very familiar to the Coyote. He approached her and molded his own vocal chords and larynx to allow for human speech.

“Hey baby, how's it going?” said the talking ferret.

Delta, superheroine and agent of Zenith, jumped back and almost fell into the water hazard she was pretending to clean around.

Angela has climbed up to a nearby roof, to better get the drop on a group of drones. Vertebreaker was having a fine time for himself, with a bashed drone in each hand, using them like clubs on the ones still walking around.

UPS finally reached the M'buna transport just as it was rising from the ground. He arced out of the drone and into the V'sori craft, taking control. He locked the doors and began to fight the K'tharen pilot for steering control.

Behind them, a gold-plated helicopter showed up over the dig site and its giant hole. Six lines descended from it and six undocumented minions slid down them, firing plasma guns. In the hail of incandescent energy, five of the six laboring K'tharens were killed! The remaining K'tharen produced a gun of his own from somewhere and gunned down all six minions in return.

Dr. Omega teleported down into the pit. He landed on the cosmic robot. The fully assembled cosmic robot. The fully assembled and apparently undamaged cosmic robot!

“This isn't possible! The V'sori don't have the technology to do this. And even if they did, they would need tools capable of melting or even just penetrating its armor plating. But if they didn't do this...who did?”

The Huntsman dropped down from the air (and invisibility). “Boss man, just like I said, hey? And dis here looks like de controls. My friend here didn't want to give them up but R3X and I can be pretty persuasive, ok.”

The Hunstman gave the V'sori scientist another rough shake as he handed Dr. Omega a large remote with several buttons on its face. One button was particularly large and red, but Omega resisted the urge to press it.

Instead, he placed the remote in a secure compartment in his armor and handed the Huntsman $10,000 in cash (his emergency stash). “I...I...”

“Boss man, you ok? You is paying me monies. That never happens. You is speechless. That never, ever happens. You ok?”

Dr. Omega said nothing. He just started hooking the lift cables onto the cosmic robot and signaled to Mr. Clean to start the winch and draw it up into the helicopter.

The victorious Omega Men stood around the lip of the pit. The cosmic robot was safely in the cargo space of the helicopter. Omega was just about to order his forces to withdraw when Kyle showed back up, still a ferret and being carried by Delta of Zenith!

Following them was a large man in poor-fitting groundsman coveralls. He had a tail that no coveralls could conceal. Nor could they conceal his muscular physique. The other person following them was about nine feet tall and had purple skin. His disguise fit even worse than the first man's had. He muttered to himself constantly.

Dr. Omega recovered enough to cross his arms imperiously. “Beta. Gamma. D-Delta. We were just leaving. You're welcome to come with us to our secret lair if you like. We can discuss who keeps the robot later. We have...other things to talk about.”

Beta, the normal-height man who followed Coyote in, tossed his head towards the water hazard. “Sure. We just need to collect our fourth member.”

Coyote, now in human form, drove them past the small pond, where Meanstreak emerged and sprinted into the truck. Dr. Omega signaled Mr. Clean to take the helicopter up and away. Looking down at the stolen delivery truck, he rode in silence.

“So, you were just...observing the V'sori?” Dr. Omega leaned back in his Omega throne. He looked much less nervous than he felt. Being around Delta always made him...sweaty. But it shouldn't be that way now. He was handsome again, now. And powerful. And he was doing important work. No reason to be nervous. So why was he?

Delta leaned forward and leveled her striking green eyes at him, “We were doing reconnaissance! It's an important job.”

“That's what Zenith does these days? Reconnaissance?”

“Oh, we're not Zenith anymore. We're the new Alpha Force. That's right. We're picking up where Champion left off.”

Beta stood up. “Hey honey, that crazy dude in the hood said he's watching kung-fu movies all night. Just come get me when it's time to leave this dump. Come on, my main man Gamma.” The purple behemoth stood and lumbered after him.

Dr. Omega swiveled his throne back to face Delta. “The new Alpha Force? Without Champion? I don't know if that's going to work.”

“Oh, but there's more, Omega. Our first and most important mission is to find Champion himself!”

Dr. Omega stifled a laugh. “Have you checked Hell? Because you know, he's dead. I have incontrovertible proof that he's dead. My friend Mitch Powers was there when he died. Champion is very, very dead.”

“Then why was a body never recovered? Do you think Champion heals like humans do? Hasn't he come back from worse injuries? Inflicted by you? Several times?”

“Well, I uh- Hey, if you can't trust the word of the Hippocratic Oath, who can you trust?

“The Hippocratic Oath is Mitch Powers? Oh, it all makes sense now!”

“Oh, crap.” Omega rested his head on one gauntleted hand. How did he let that slip? This wasn't like him, not like him at all. Too nervous. And not only was Gina, Delta looking at him, but Meanstreak was glaring at him too. What was she doing here? Where the hell has she been for the last six months?

Meanstreak spoke. “Dr. Omega? Hello? Have you heard a word my sister has said for the last five minutes? “

Her sister! That explains a lot. And it made things much, much more complicated. Of course.

“Er, yes. I'm listening. So...it's good to see you, Gina.”

“What? How-? Dr. Omega, you haven't changed a bit! You're rotten and evil and everything we stand against! Do you think I've forgotten? Do you think I can't see that you're still...you? Ugh! I am out of here!”

Delta stomped away from the Omega meeting table. “Come on, sis. Beta, Gamma, get in here! We're leaving!”

The Huntsman's voice sounded from the living room, “De big purple guy kept falling down on my fist so I dragged him out back and left him in the yard, ok?”

Delta stifled a scream as she flew from the room to collect Gamma and Beta, her husband.

“I'll be there in a minute!” Meanstreak stayed seated. “So...” she crossed her steel arms, “...should I be leaving or staying?”

Dr. Omega sighed and took off his helmet, revealing his fully healed face and eliciting a gasp of surprise from Meanstreak. He looked her in the eyes.

“Meanstreak. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I treated you. The superpowers, the fighting, the late nights I spent crying, all of it.

“But I'm glad you came. You showed up and I realized how far I've come, how much I've changed. And more importantly, I realized just how far I still have to go. It's a long way.

“I- I'm no good for you, baby. You deserve a lover, not a fighter. And me? I fight. I fight the V'sori and I'm going to fight and fight and keep fighting until they leave us alone and get the hell off of my planet!

“See? You bring out the best in me. But I'm not there yet. You deserve so much more. You deserve someone who puts you first. You deserve someone who can live up to not just your ideals, but his own.

“Another time? Another place? We'd be magic. But as it stands right now, I could never put you first, not before the Earth.

“So like I said...I'm no good for you. Walk away, baby. Do it for yourself. Do it for me. But just do me a favor and do it fast enough that I don't see you go. We both know you can do that. And when you go, don't look back.

“Don't look back.”

Dr. Omega replaced his helmet. A single streak of oil ran down Meanstreak's cheek. And then with a gust of air, she was gone.

Dr. Omega wasn't sure how long he sat there afterwards. Eventually, he felt the pressure of a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Some jack-ass just give me ten thousand dollars. Let's go get some ice cream, ok?”

Last edited by Gospog on Mon Jan 24, 2011 12:40 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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#229 Postby newForumNewName » Sun Jan 23, 2011 10:40 pm

Character growth. I like it.
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Re: Game 22 - WARNING - PLOT POINT SPOILERS (probably)

#230 Postby Sitting Duck » Mon Jan 24, 2011 8:49 am

Gospog wrote:DR.MORTIN: Dr. Omega, you kill heroes.

OMEGA: Not true. I put them in death traps. What happens after that is up to them. And to be fair, they escape pretty often.

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#231 Postby Gospog » Fri Feb 11, 2011 9:41 am

Next game: Feb 19th. :blam:
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Teh awesome!

#232 Postby chumpy83 » Mon Feb 14, 2011 7:14 pm

I ran across this thread a few days ago and have since read every last bit of it. Awesome stuff, and it makes me REALLY want to play NE. Gotta love the Undocumented minions ;) not to mention all of the very demented and yet loveable PC's.

Keep up the good work, and I'm looking forward to the next one.

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#233 Postby Gospog » Mon Feb 14, 2011 8:25 pm

You are a sick, sick person and you have got plenty more to look forward to. :)

Thank you for the kind words.
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#234 Postby Gospog » Mon Feb 21, 2011 8:53 pm

Just a quick update: almost no one could make last game, so we had to postpone. :(

New date TBA...
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#235 Postby Gospog » Mon Mar 07, 2011 2:42 pm

Next game: March 19th! :blam:
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#236 Postby Sitting Duck » Tue Mar 08, 2011 6:29 am

Hopefully this won't be an attendance bust as well.
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#237 Postby Timon » Mon Mar 21, 2011 2:56 am

Looking forward to the next instalment of this awesome campaign.

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#238 Postby Gospog » Sun Mar 27, 2011 10:55 am

Date: March 19th
Therapist: Dr. Leonard Mortin
Subject: Omega
Session 212

DR.MORTIN: You're awfully quiet this evening, Dr. Omega. What-



OMEGA: No questions until you watch the tape.

DR.MORTIN: The tape? Ah, I see you taped Eddie Striker. A little low-brow for- Is that the Omega Men on the Eddie Striker show?

OMEGA: Not exactly.

DR.MORTIN: That show is for white trash and red-necks to brawl on! What on Earth were you doing on that television show?

OMEGA: I will start at the beginning, a week before we taped it...


Dr. Omega looked around the meeting table. Angela was still missing but it would have to do. He needed every super-villains' buy-in, but this was too important to leave for later. There was not enough time...

“Hey Dad, why is the symbol on the table different? And your armor is all weird.” Vertebreaker scratched his bony head.

As good an intro as any. “I am no longer Dr. Omega, Vertebreaker. I am Dr. Alpha. And we are not the Omega Men any more. We are Alpha Force.”

Stunned silence met his announcement. He held up a gauntleted hand. “Hear me out.”

“When we overthrow the V'sori...and we will overthrow the V'sori, the people of Earth will welcome us as their liberators. We will make the jump in their minds from being villains, to being liberators, to being heroes. We will be running the show.

“But the transition will be hard for most people, because they are stupid. I am proposing we remove a step, to make it easier. We become heroes now. Then, once we drive the V'sori off Earth, it's a short jump to being absolute rulers. The people would accept former villains...grudgingly...but they will welcome heroes!

“Also, as you may recall, Delta was here some months ago, bragging that she and that cretin Beta were forming a new Alpha Force. This is sure to go right up her ass sideways.”

Incredulous looks still greeted Dr. Alpha from around the table. Every villain looked severely skeptical. Dr. Alpha gestured again for patience.

“You haven't heard the best part. Those idiots are running around telling everyone with a camera and a microphone that they are Alpha Force. We will do the same. Every vile act, accidental death and outright crime we commit, we make sure they take the blame. Every time we get caught killing hundreds while inflicting millions of dollars in collateral damage, we make sure everyone knows that Alpha Force was there!”

Dr. Alpha crossed his arms over his chest plate as the entire room burst into spontaneous applause. The Coyote raised a hand (he was a man today, and young). “But Doctor Om- er, Alpha. Some of us don't want to rule the world. I just like killing people. Sometimes I maim, you know. But the killing...”

The Huntsman nodded. “Dat stupid kid has a point, ok. What happens to the super peoples who don't like how things go after we kick out the V'sori? What happens to de ones that won't play nice?”

“Oh, that's the best part. As you all know, I've been working diligently for months to obtain the access codes to get UPS onto a V'sori Man O'War. This is the preliminary step in capturing one of the alien warships in orbit above Earth. We will succeed. We will have an alien war-ship. Once we kick the V'sori off Earth, anyone who is not happy with the New World Order gets on the ship. I will program it to head right to the V'sori homeworld.”

“As revenge?” The Coyote smiled hopefully.

“As a message. Think about how much damage we do to Earth every month, and we like it here. All of the predatory races of the galaxy will think twice before setting their sights on Earth again.

“So...this is too important to play around. I need everyone on board for this.”

The Huntsman spun a dagger on his index finger, “And what if we say no?”

“Then some of you will be getting on-board that ship earlier than planned.”

Dr. Omega turned to The Coyote, “In or out?”

“In, boss. In.”

Vertebreaker was next, “Will the new world mean a raise in my allowance?”


“Um, I'm in.”

And so it went around the table, all of the newly minted Alpha Force members agreeing to take part. Dr. Alpha raised a hand to his helmet, “Just a moment, I'm getting a phone call.”

“Dr. Alpha....No, wait, I mean Dr. Omega...Yes, Ms. Glass, I am familiar with your work, of course. Your work in Atlantis was the best documented footage in the entire surface world, until I went there with my helmet-cam, of course...Well, yes. You can interview us. But we're Alpha Force now....oh yes, quite serious. I go by Dr. Alpha now....Yes, I'm sure we will. A week from today? Excellent. Much appreciated. See you then.”

Dr. Alpha looked around at his henchmen. “Sheila Glass, the famous interview journalist, wants to interview me. You will recall her as the woman who interviewed Aquarian years ago and even visited Atlantis. You may all come to the interview as well. I'm even bringing guests. Miss Glass will send a car for us in one week's time and then we will fly to New York via private jet.”

“Isn't New York a pile of smoking rubble these days?” The Huntsman made the knife disappear up his sleeve, “I used to love hunting there. Swinging from building to building, a hero to kill on every corner, those were the days.”

“Yes, it got bombed to rubble in the invasion. I imagine that's what makes it easy to hide an outlaw recording studio there. We've all seen her interviews online. They must be filmed somewhere. New York City. One week. Be ready, Alpha Force!”

A week later, Dr. Alpha was sitting on a private jet with the guests he invited to the interview filming: Hard Core, her boss Willy the Fish, Mr. Clean and a very surprised Sandra Ramirez.

Dr. Alpha leaned in close to speak with Willy the Fish. “So, Willy...I'd been meaning to spend some time with you speaking about the Outsider. Your people, the Proteans, they worship him, correct?”

“That is correct Dr. Omega-”


“Sure. We do worship the Outsider, as would you if you ever saw him in person.”

“Ah, so you've seen the Outsider in person and his last recorded appearance was in 1950 or thereabouts, so you must be much, much older than you appear. Are all Proteans so long-lived? I imagine it's a result of having so much control over the cells of your body, hmm?”

“You know Dr. Alpha, I've never flown in a private jet before. These little sandwiches are delicious! I need to do this more often.”

Behind his faceplate, Dr. Alpha smiled. “Very well. But have you at least seen...footage of the cosmic robot that the Outsider used to battle Champion? The one that Champion tore limb from limb?”

“Oh yes, I've se- I am quite familiar with that robot, yes. Very impressive.”

“I've heard recent rumors, Willy, that someone unearthed that robot and it was once again in one piece. Who do you think would have the resources and the technical skill to repair something built by the Outsider?

“Oh, that robot was so advanced that it most certainly could have repaired itself. After all, all those poles and vanes on its back collect and harness cosmic energy. It's like it draws in the very essence of the Outsider himself.”

“Ah, then I have not been working on my collector backpack in vain!”


“You're right Willy, these sandwiches are amazing. Mr. Clean, you simply must make these when we return to the Alpha Mansion.”

The rest of the flight was taken up by small-talk and trying to keep Kyle from stabbing anyone.

Alpha Force was hustled through make-up and pre-production routines in a squat brick building in a less-devastated area of the city. The actual show was to be taped in the sub-basement level of the building.

Dr. Alpha was led to the stage in time to see Dave Ross riding onto the stage on the backs of two clearly mind-controlled production staff. As Dr. Alpha took his seat, mindful of its groaning as his armored bulk settled into it, he saw Dave Ross have a seat on the two staff members and...recline. Yes, this ought to go swimmingly.

Once all of Alpha Force was assembled on the stage, Dr. Alpha nodded confidently to Hard Core in the audience, sitting next to Willy the Fish. Mr. Clean was seated on the stage with the rest of the team.

Just then, the crowd started chanting “EDDIE...EDDIE...EDDIE...”

Dr. Alpha knew that chant! Eddie Stryker was a low-brow talk-show host who appealed to the lowest common denominator of television audiences. His typical topics revolved around what family members were sleeping with the spouses or pets of other close family members. Ugly brawls were not only inevitable on his show, the audience demanded them! They'd been set up!

Eddie Stryker ran onto the stage to thunderous applause. Dr, Alpha folded his arms before him and prepared to take on the reigning pundit of tabloid tv.

Eddie raised his hands and faced the crowd. “Folks, we've got a special treat for you tonight! Sitting here on stage are none other than Dr. Omega and the Omega Men, just-”

“Dr. Alpha.”

Eddie stopped his monologue and faced the team, “Say what now?”

“I am no longer known as Dr. Omega. I am Dr. Alpha and this is the new Alpha Force.”

A shocked gasp went up from the crowd. Of course, this may be due in part to the fact that UPS had infiltrated the digital applause prompter. He was (apparently at random) exhorting the crowd to “clap”, “boo”, “gasp” and on two occasions, to “pee”. So far, the crowd had complied with most of his messages.

Eddie sat down. “The theme for tonight is Dysfunctional Dads and the Supervillains That Love Them. Someone...we can't say who...contacted the show and asked us to bring you here.”

Dr. Alpha surveyed the villains onstage. Angela was absent and therefore a suspect and the Huntsman was not visible, despite having come with them. Dr. Alpha's clone sons looked as surprised as he had initially felt. They had not made the call. Eddie resumed speaking.

“Now, Dr. Alpha (scattered applause), we are told that you are frequently mean to your sons, belittle them and even refuse to pay them for work they do for you. What do you say to these accusations?”

“Well Eddie, it's a complicated question. My sons are clones of me. Scrape was made from a mole on my back and Vertebreaker was cloned from a bone sample. But the point is, they are very, very young, both of them less than three years old. I am their parent and I know what's best for them.”

Vertebreaker stood up, “I only get five bucks a month!”

The crowd started booing and hissing, not least of all because UPS changed the applause prompter to read “BOO” and then “HISS”.

“Dr. Alpha, is this true?”

“Of course it is, Eddie. He's two years old. As he matures, he will learn more responsibility. When he's proven that he can act like an adult, he'll make his own money. Pretty standard, actually. Sit down, son.”

“Well, what do you say to accusations that your group employs sexual deviants and people who are harmful to the welfare of people around them?” Eddie gestured to Scrape and Dave Ross. Scrape was having an eruption of boils slide down the right half of the fleshy lump that was his body, an avalanche of pus. Dave Ross was sitting on the two show staff members, both of whom were now unclothed and clearly terrified. He stroked the extra organ on his forehead with evident satisfaction.

Dr. Alpha waved a hand dismissively. “Scrape has...well, is cancer. By studying him, I hope to advance cancer research by decades in just a few short years. I am extremely motivated in this.

Dave Ross is, admittedly, a pervert and a deviant. And that's why it's better to have him under my constant supervision instead out in society, terrorizing innocent people. Under my control, he only terrorizes the V'sori. And your staff.”

Applause started up and died off in the audience as UPS ran the prompter through a confusing series of commands.

Eddie Stryker turned back to the camera. “Folks, these aren't the only guests we have here today. From Star City University, we have none other than noted psychologist, R.A. Smith. Welcome, Dr. Smith!”

A greying man in a white lab coat walked onto the stage to a smattering of applause, some booing and three people wetting themselves. UPS was having a great time.

“Doctor, what does your research have to say about Dr. Alpha here and his relation ship to his sons?”

“Well Eddie, I think it might be best to ask the boys themselves. I-”

Just then, all of the spotlights in the room swiveled up to light up a V'sori drone, still draped in the skin of Baseball professional Derek Jeter, hanging in the sky. It floated down from the rafters as UPS cackled with glee. He was once again animating the drone to use as his “ride”.

As the hideous automaton touched down on the stage, Eddie leapt from his chair, “Dr. Alpha, what the hell is going on here?”

“Well Eddie, this is the handiwork of my former janitor, UPS. Unfortunately, the science behind what has happened here deals with several currently hypothetical derivations of string theory and is far beyond what you-”

“I killed Derek Jeter.” Vertebreaker stood up, sending his chair flying. For once, the audience was dead silent.

Just then, the rear double doors of the room burst open. From the hallway beyond, dozens of SoCORPS agents poured into the back of the audience area. They all carried light machine guns and their leader carried what was immediately identifiable as a Power Nullifier gun. “Ok, Omega, the game is up! We're here to take you in, dead or alive. Men, open fire!”

The SoCORPS agents raised their weapons. Dr. Alpha stood up and raised his arms. “You pathetic boot-licking toads! It's bad enough you've betrayed the human race and are hunting the people trying to save you, but you at least could have waited until we were leaving!

This studio is full of innocent people whose only crime is coming to see the Eddie Styker show. It's a bad decision, certainly, but it's not illegal.. These people are innocent. Alpha Force, PROTECT THEM!”

Alpha Force sprang into action. Vertebreaker sprinted headlong towards the leader of the SoCORPS team. The leader calmly leveled his Power Nullifier gun but Vertebreaker neatly side-stepped the blaze of violet energy. The bony villain crashed into a crowd of SoCORPS agents between him and the leader, sending them staggering back.

From up in the rafters, the Huntsman pointed to a group of three SoCORPS agents by one of the exits. R3X bobbed in confirmation and used its telekinesis to tear a pin out of one of the concussion grenades that all of the men wore. Them was a muffled boom and all three men were on the ground, largely unharmed but prone.

The Huntsman himself, still invisible, hurled an explosive arrow at another trio of SoCORPS agents. They also ended up on the concrete floor, bruised but alive.

In the crowd, the undocumented Minions sprung into action. They threw off their civilian disguises and rushed the government agents while firing their plasma rifles. The men lying on the floor made easy targets and soon, five of the agents were dead, blown to bits by the enthusiastic minions.

Dr. Alpha tapped his comm-bead and turned on the translator circuits in his helmet. “Ramirez, do not advance. Stay there and protect Hard Core. And Willy too, I guess. Si?”

The Minion stood his ground and raised his rifle.

Dr. Alpha looked out from the stage. Dave Ross had taken mental control of several of the agents, and Scrape had given a few more cancer, but their leader was still advancing with the Power Nullifier. Dr. Alpha triggered the teleportation circuits in his armor. He disappeared from the stage and reappeared next to the SoCORPS leader, holding a gun to the man's head. “You had your chance to take this outside.” He pulled the trigger.

The headless body of the SoCORPS team leader dropped to the floor. Dr. Alpha keyed the loudspeakers built into his armor. “Attention SoCORPS operatives. Your leader is dead. Look around you. Half of your force is dead or dying and you haven't even slowed us down. These people here today are under the protection of Alpha Force. Leave now, and you live. And leave your weapons. You will not get another offer like this.”

After a few, furtive looks around, the agents placed their guns on the ground and slowly backed out, back to the exits. The sounds of elevator buttons being pressed repeatedly in panic was clear, even from the stage. Dr. Alpha attached the Power Nullifier to his belt.

“That was amazing”, Eddie Stryker stood and brushed rubble from his suit coat.

“Mr. Stryker, we are leaving. I trust that whatever airs will show the new Alpha Force in the proper light?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah! We...um...we can edit it in places.” Everyone looked at Dave Ross.

“Excellent. Alpha Force, move out! We're done here.”

Kyle transformed back into his usual form, “But wait, aren't we going to go find Sheila Glass and kill her for tricking us?”

“Oh no, Coyote. We have other plans for Miss Glass. We will settle with her soon enough.”

Later that night, Dr. Alpha took a seat at the bar in a seedy dive in Dockside. The Huntsman, also dressed in his civilian clothes, turned from his beer to glare at the evil genius.

“I don' got no idea why you asked me to meet you here, ok? Plenty of beer at the Omega Mansion or whatever we callin' it dis week.”

“I made a mistake. I overlooked something.”

“So? If you made me drink every time you made a mistake, I'd be an alcoholic, ok?.”

“Scrape. He's made...from me. I should have expected it, ran more tests. When the Hippocratic Oath accelerated by body's healing, it triggered massive cell growth. All over my body. All kinds, even some cells that were...dormant.”

“Say what now?”

“I've got about six months. Cancer.”

“Six months...like, to live?”


The Huntsman slid his beer towards Dr. Alpha “Choo gonna need this more than me.”

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#239 Postby geijhan » Mon Mar 28, 2011 12:07 am

*shocked gasp*
*golf clap*

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#240 Postby Sitting Duck » Mon Mar 28, 2011 8:36 am

Does this mean the campaign is coming to its conclusion?

When do we learn how they get back at Shiela Glass for her dirty trick?
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