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Unlikely Allies: Pt 2 IC


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The bedrock of Freedom City was so undermined by sewers, tunnels, caverns, and secret bases, it was a wonder the city above didn't collapse after a hard rain. The access shaft went deep into the earth, Dragonfly climbing and Ironclad floating a few rungs above her. They eventually hit bottom in an arched passageway, made of fitted stone blocks, sweating in the damp and the chill. Dragonfly's lamp showed that the tunnel continued without change for fifty feet or so -- past that, blackness.

In the privacy of her helmet, Ironclad unraveled her 360 degree sensorium into a panoramic, 2-D picture. Her eyes darted over it, but there didn't appear to be any immediate threats, so she transferred her attention to the heroine standing next to her. "Which way," she whispered.

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Dragonfly lowered her flashlight, slowly and deliberately turning her head to look at Ironclad. When she spoke, her voice was so dry it'd make a British comedian jealous. "....don't know. You have my scanner." make in pairs in the future - build into visor?

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Ironclad wanted to smack herself, but that wouldn't bee very heroic. Instead she waved at a command line that only she could see. "The trail's pretty good." She nodded down the tunnel and started walking, her metal boots ringing on the bare stone. After a few steps she started floating through the air, silent.

The access tunnel roughly paralleled the river, headed towards the coast-line. As they neared the docks the smell of the ocean -- salt and fish, mostly -- filled the tunnel, with just a hint of raw sewage. Ironclad couldn't smell it, but the suit informed her of the air's contents just fine -- and made her very glad her suit was a closed system.

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Dragonfly turned up her nose, scowling as she trailed behind Ironclad, rubber-soled boots quiet on the tunnel floor. When she spoke, it was hushed - no sense in advertising their presence. "Can never chase criminals into a rose field. Always sewers, fish plants, chemical factories. Need to start buying noseplugs." other smells interesting - saltwater - fish - coastline? shipping smuggling dockside deals - bad sign

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The two heroines moved down the tunnel, alert for trouble that never manifested. Instead the passage ended rather abruptly, and they were suddenly overlooking a squat stone cylinder fifty feet deep by seventy-five wide, made of the same sweating stone as the tunnel but on a more massive scale. It was an overflow basin for the city's sewage system; when a nasty storm (or a villain with water-control powers) hit the city, structures like this on kept the city's streets from flooding.

It was more or less dry at the moment, and what looked like a group of street people had colonized it. There was a crudely built dais/throne at one end, where a ragged figure in a long trench coat extorted the group. Most of his speech was lost in echoes, but what phrases drifted back to the heroines was not encouraging: phrases like "cleanse the streets with fire;" "punish the unbelievers;" and "turn their obscenities upon themselves!"

The street preacher wasn't the alone on the platform. Both heroines recognized the slim man in the suit as the one who had interrupted their fight earlier and had run off with Dragonfly's case. There was also a woman up there, older and unkempt but not dirty like the street people. It was hard to make out details at this distance, but she appeared to be wearing a straitjacket.

Ironclad mentally bumped image magnification up her list of improvements to the suit. The ping on her comm link back to her grandfather was good at least, and she cut the exterior speaker to talk to him. "I need advice here," she said. "Recognize anybody?"

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Most of Dragonfly's attention span was on the collection of - cultists mages hobos drugged mesmerized bribed true believers? - collected down below, but something about one of them just stuck in her head and wouldn't let go. familiar - current villain? - unlikely new don't know many yet - heroes no - pale would have noticed on the street - crime boss? no - something old? memory's better than this would have to be very old broadcasts documentaries newspaper clippings - Raven versus th---- She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself as she paid more attention to the echoes. bad cartoon plot - hero talks too loudly villain sends minions who plan goes to waste - ....I wonder

Glancing sidelong at Ironclad's armor, something behind Dragonfly's eyes flickered a pale neon blue, barely visible under the visor as a hint of dancing light. The corners of her mouth curled up in a grin despite herself as Ironclad's armor's computer system got an 'incoming signal'.

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Ironclad was listening to her grandfather's summary when an indicator flashed in the corner of her eye; a blue radio tower, rotating slowly and emitting stylized lightning bolts. It indicated an attempted outside connection. She'd never actually seen it before (expect in tests) but the young scientist believed in being prepared. She blink-clicked it, listening to her grandfather's summary with half an ear.

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never tried - should have - glad it works - so much potential! Dragonfly turned most of her attention back on the gathered group as a small, transparent window popped into being in the bottom corner of Ironclad's display, like some anonymous messaging program; she smiled despite herself. Her smile faded, though, when she realized why she'd wanted to try this in the first place, and text popped up in the little window with a chirping noise. In lieu of a name was a small icon of a stylized dragonfly.

The Conqueror Worm!?
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Ironclad's fingers twitches as she typed a silent reply. She muttered under her breath as she did so; the sound wouldn't carry past her helmet, anyway. "Matches pictures of the Worm in his prime. Supposed to have been killed by old Raven, so can't really say who this is." She took a picture of the group in the platform and sent it along with her next text message. "Man in the suit is the one who nabbed the case earlier. Woman looks like Luna Moth -- 'nother old enemy of the Raven. Captured years ago, committed."

Ironclad paused, looking over her last few messages. "You're bad for my grammar," she typed.

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She grimaced, but otherwise didn't move as she sent text back. "Sorry. Ideas?"

As she waited for a reply she turned her attention back on the group below. worm unlikely to be authentic - clone illusion imposter impersonator delusional - woman likely authentic - powers unknown - build communication link to base - strategy? - frontal assault - exploit height to take out as many as possible - element of surprise - suit would arrive shortly - woman - moth - fly? - worm's abilities dependent on authenticity...

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  • 3 weeks later...

Ironclad considered the situation, listening to the Worm's rant with one ear. "If you could fly," she messaged back to Dragonfly, "the ground units wouldn't be a problem. Maybe I could carry you, and you could --" Ironclad cut off abruptly. As the Worm's speech went on, the crowd before her grew increasingly agitated, stomping their feet and chanting. The noise drowned out whatever the Worm was saying, but she had just pulled out a metal case -- the same on Ironclad and Dragonfly had been fighting over not too long ago.

The Worm opened the case and pulled out something. there were slick lines and shining steel, odd bulges and lights that blinked on and off for no apparent reason. The Worm put her forearm into the machine and it shifted shape, seeming to close around her limb securely, while an obviously aperture opened on the other end. The villain trained the device on the straight jacketed woman, as the suit took a few steps away. The Worm said something too soft to hear and triggered the weapon, filling the basin with harsh, white light.

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"Flight's complicated," she messaged back. "Bugs to work out. Secondary priority - other ways to get around. Prefer not to be carried - makes a bigger target. Ties up your resources, keeps you from--"

Attention drawn by the chanting, Dragonfly watched the Worm put on the device and started softly swearing in Russian, getting a little more vulgar as the weapon was triggered. At some point she apparently ran out of foul words, because she went back to the messaging: "SMPA2...--nevermind. Not important. Arm piece from power armor. Good news: Stable design. Unlikely to tear holes in reality. Much less effective without the full set. Bad news: Still somewhat effective in the right hands. On its own...hmm." Dragonfly thought for a moment and gave a quick and (relatively) simple run down of what the thing could probably do, though she notably left out any details that'd help in the least if someone actually tried to build the thing.

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When the light cleared, the heroines could see that the straitjacketed woman on the stage had changed dramatically. Gone was the malnourished mouse with the cracking yellow hair. The woman up there was short, yes, but well-formed and curvaceous, invoking shades of Marilyn Monroe. Her hair was golden blonde and piled in curls, and even standing there in the shredded remains of a straitjacket, Ironclad was forced to admit that the woman was probably more beautiful than she herself would ever be.

Of course, there were more shocking physical changes to note. Her eyes were gone, replaced by compound eyes, black and glittering. Filmy-looking fly wings sprouted from her back and through the straitjacket, tearing it wide open. She stood there, smiling widely, clearly exulting in her renewed youth.

The Worm approached the insect woman, arms thrown wide, but her advances were rebuffed by an upraised hand. The listening condition hadn't improved, but body language painted a clear enough picture. The Woman started poking Luna Moth in the chest, her movements becoming more and more agitated, and she gestured angrily for her mercenary to intervene. Suit reluctantly stepped forward between the two women, locked eyes with Samantha Cline -- and froze. The Moth stepped past the unresisting man and backhanded the Worm hard enough to send the other woman flying into the crowd.

Ironclad surged forward, grabbing Dragonfly's arm in a suit-enhanced grip and pulling the other woman into the air with her. "This is our chance," she said, lowering the both of them to the bottom of the basin. "Get the gun. I'll run interference." Ironclad dropped the other heroine off and flew to the top of the basin, trying to decide on her first target.

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Dragonfly stood still at the back of the crowd for a moment, everything moving in slow motion as her brain kicked into high gear. thanks for the warning - too many targets - thin the crowd? - had to field test eventually

Her force field twisted into being around her and several little lights lit up as her shield went live and ready; she backed up a foot and braced herself, both gauntlets emitting a dull whine as they charged up and started to glow between the cracks and seams in the plating. In her mind's eye she zoomed out from her own body, viewing the room in abstract. Every person in it was a point of data, every dimension was labeled, lines and numbers sketched out over the scene and fed to the weapons on her hands.

At long last the world sped back up to speed and she raised her hands...to point them up into the air over the crowd and unleash a streak of shifting pale blue energy. The streak twitched and jerked through the air, spinning into a small mass over their collective heads; for a moment it hung there like a malevolent living thing before it spun out into a spiral of countless lance-like spacial distortions, each curving down to strike a different member of the group.

She lowered her hands, gauntlets fading and actually steaming a bit in the humid air. large power drain - overheating risk - can't do often - it worked! - it worked it worked - beautiful

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As the light faded from Dragonfly's overpowering attack, most of the Worm's derelict audience was lying spread out on the ground, smoking gently. Even the resurgent Luna Moth wasn't unaffected, and she fluttered her new wings uncertainly. Only the merc in the suit, swaying gently on his feet, was untouched by the violent explosion. As she struggled upright, the the villainess pulled a glass bottle from inside her jacket. The mouth of the bottle was wrapped in a dirty rag; in one smoother motion the Worm lit the rag and hurled the incendiary at the heroine. The bottle arced through the air and exploded at the heroine's feet, the potent liquor quickly catching and engulfing her in fire. Meanwhile, far above, Ironclad took aimed down at one of the remaining mooks, now struggling to his feet. The bright ray of energy knocked the man prone again, and this time he didn't try to get up.

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Looking around the room, Dragonfly was filled with a glowing sense of pride. that is how it's done - no casualties - high hit rate - personal risk drastically redu--

And then she was set on fire. Barely twisting out of the way in time to avoid being hit by the worst of it, she ran along the wall to get out of the flames, batting at her clothes with one hand and firing a shockwave at the Worm with the other. A charitable person might have considered the wide miss an attempt to keep Worm's head down. Dragonfly, not being terribly charitable under the best of circumstances, said some foul things in Japanese as she put out the parts of her outfit that were still smoldering. need to focus - fight will go very bad if I keep aiming like that

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Luna Moth sneered at the two heroines. "Stupid little girls, getting involved in grown-up business. You should be glad I need something better to wear." She picked at the shreds of her straitjacket. "I can't be seen like this when the Raven learns I'm back on the prowl!" She crooked a finger at the man in the suit and his eyes turned to track her as she rose into the air. She described a wide circle around Ironclad, disappearing down one pipe; the speedster zipped across the floor and up the wall, keeping pace with her.

Ironclad debated following the villainess, but decided that the Worm was a bigger threat. The suited heroine sighted in, waited for her target lock to go green, and shot another bolt of energy which just gouged a crater in the floor. The remaining derelicts pulled out pistols and started firing widely at Dragonfly, and as the heroine dodged their haphazard shots the Conqueror Worm pulled out a massive, nickle-played revolver and made a single shot that sparked against the heroine's force field.

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Seeing the guns come out Dragonfly threw up a hand, a large, flat, circular distortion twisting into being as the first bullets came her way. Each bullet that reached the shield blurred, streaking across it in an instant to be spat out the edges, clear of the heroine. The revolver, though, packed a little too much punch in just the right spot - it got deflected across the shield and into the young woman's shoulder. Her defenses stopped it, but barely: she grunted a bit at the impact and the force field itself flickered and twitched for a moment.

She glanced up at the pipe the other two villains had disappeared through. unfortunate - will track down later - am sure they'll appear again - focus is here - still has the device - minions unimpressive That brought her attention back down to the Worm. "Allies left you! Should disarm and surrender while you can. Make the whole thing easier for everybody." Not really waiting for an answer, she sent another blast the Worm's way, wincing a bit as she had to move the shoulder.

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Circling over the gun fight, Ironclad quickly dialed down the intensity of her attacks and activated some back-up subroutines. Her targeting reticule over the Conqueror Worm jiggled a little as the computer tried to extrapolate her next move, then gave the heroine a point to aim at slightly ahead of the quickly-moving villainess. Ironclad took aim and released another blast of energy. This one caught the Worm on the leading shoulder and slammed her into the group, where she lay for a moment, trying to get her breath back. The mooks converged on their boss, trying to lay down suppressive fire on Dragonfly, but none of their shots came close to landing.

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The moment she saw the opening, Dragonfly kicked her gauntlets into high gear. She sent Ironclad a quick message of 'Nice shot!' as they warmed up, bracing herself and bringing both hands up to launch a large, twisting distortion that carved a small groove in the floor as it flew towards its target. slower than normal - won't matter - new power source working very well minimal drain - heroes usually say something here?

She lowered her hands, watching the blast go. "Catch." note - work on heroic quips

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The blast of refracted dimensional energy plowed into the prone woman and rolled her over and over. When she came to a rest she was breathing shallowly, and not moving. Ironclad dropped swiftly, placing herself over the Worm's still form and tried to cover all four active vagrants with her gauntlets. "Stay back," she warned them, but they still charged her, firing recklessly. Not that their shots came close, but they'd have to be dealt with before the arm cannon could be recovered.

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Ironclad reset her targeter and let loose with another blast of energy, but the fluctuating power levels caused it to veer off to the side. She swore, but at least Dragonfly dropped one before the remaining trio dropped their pistols and pulled a variety of long, pointy objects. Ironclad rerouted power to her gauntlets and waited for the attack.

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Ironclad waited for the mooks to close, noting absently that one fell to a blast from Dragonfly. As the last two swung, she stepped back a pace and let them over-extend, then brought her fist around in a suit-assisted hammerblow. It connected solidly and the man dropped to the ground bonelessly. The last one stabbed at Ironclad desperately, and she tried to dodge to the side. Her booted foot slipped in the muc, though, and she went down hard, seeing spots dance before her eyes for a moment.

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