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December 25th 

Continued from >Mind Over Matter

 

Fast-Forward was back on the streets of Freedom City so fast he barely had time to grab a candy cane from a department store giveaway as he made his way to his first destination. It was evening New Jersey time when he appeared at Dancia Devons' front door in Lincoln, where his super-speed knock sounded like a machine gun's rat-a-tat before he slowed himself back down (and sped everything else up) until once again he was in sync with the normal world. Knocking firmly, he called, "Dancia Devons! Dancia Devons!"

 

When she opened the door, the Discovery Channel personality on Dancia's doorstep said without preamble, "Scarab needs you to save the world from robot psychics from space." He glanced around quickly to make sure no one was in the hallway; luckily her neighbors were all still enjoying their Christmas. "How quickly can you get to Puerto Rico?" 

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Christmas had been a little weird for Dancia, whilst she had warm fuzzy memories of Christmases past this would for all intent an purposes her first Christmas. But with no family that she know she'd had been looking forward to the day itself alone. Salvation had come in the form of her elderly neighbour, Rosa, who she had formed a friendship when she first moved into her apartment helping the old woman out from time to time. After a few subtle and not to subtle probing about her family the Wiley old woman had invited Dancia to spend the day with her.

A rather pleasant day was coming to an end when Fast-Foward came calling asking for her help and she'd rushed to the door before the old woman asked to many questions.

"There's an alley just behind the building I'll meet you there." She replied grimly to Fast-Foward, and not giving him time to reply darted back into the house.

"Somethings come up at the paper Rosa and I've got to fly, will you be alright to see yourself out?"

The old woman folded her arms over her chest and gave a tut.

"I might be old but I'm no fool Dancia Devons. Fly is probably the right word her right?"

Dancing couldn't help but smile.

"Okay you got me, but I really have to go. We'll talk later I promise."

It was only took a few seconds for her to get change and float down into the alley above Fast-Foward.

"So where are we going today?"

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"You have to get to..." Fast-Forward fished into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled sheet of yellow legal paper. "18.3442° N, 66.7528° W,:" he rattled off before handing her the sheet. "The Arecibo Observatory in Puerto Rico. That's where the psychics are gathering to fight the Communion, and that's where they'll need us when the fight happens. As for me, I need to get to..." He checked another note. "Parkside. See you in Puerto Rico, ASAP!" And with that, and a blur of speed too fast even for the ultra-fast Triakosia to follow, he was gone across the city in less time that it took the leaves disturbed in his passage to fall to the ground. 

 

In Parkside, Fast-Forward was inside the apartment complex where the Linebergs lived before he came to a realization. Damn! If he's not out to his parents, how am I gonna talk to him? It didn't take him long to find a loose wreath, or rather a wreath from an apartment a few floors down. When he had that in hand, he hammered on the Lineberg door again and declared, "Hello! Linebergs! Merry Christmas!" He hammered again, with a fast rat-a-tat-tat. 

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Serge was having a rather peaceful Christmas day. Though news of the imminent invasion had been spreading in the media, the reporters seemed to be rather dismissive of the threat, citing that a lot of heroes, prominently including the Freedom League, would be ensuring that no one would be able to lay so much as a hand on our Earth. Had the heroes not fought off the Omega, time and again? Didn't they deal with the Gorgon? Serge had to agree that the reporters were making a compelling case, and he knew that in space, he wouldn't be much of a help; after all, his powers rely on vibrations, and vibrations require a medium; even if he could somehow operate in space, the lack of any medium, such as air, would mean that most of his powers would be rendered unuseable.

 

Still, he couldn't help but wonder whether there was something he himself could do to help. He had decided, thus, that he should be following the news very closely for any crime that might occur. What with most other heroes occupied in space, the world was very vulnerable, and though many villains would be too smart by half to try and make trouble, given that their own survival rested in the balance, there was no shortage of brazen dastards who would take any advantage they could get. Serge assumptions had proven themselves correct, thus far, and Net Link has had to pull doubleshift duty in his regular patrols. In fact, today had been the only day in the last two weeks, that Serge could finally rellax and spend some time with his family. They were having fun playing cards, when they heard someone knocking on the door. "Oh? What's that?" Serge asked, as soon as he heard the knock.

 

"I dunno. It seems we have visitors." his stepfather, Gregory, answered. He seemed a bit rough around the edges, and somewhat gruff, but he didn't look mean either. "Here, lemme go check."

 

"Now now, dear. Don't worry, I've got this." Catherine replied, already on her way to the door. She looked like a pleasent woman, but sometimes, she could give one the impression that she wasn't quite dealing with a full deck.

 

"Ah. Are you sure, honey?"

 

"Please, it's ok." She smiled at him, and then she looked through the peeper in her appartment's door. "Hmmm?" She noticed Fast-Forward standing outside, and holding a wreath in his hand. As soon as she registered the decoration, she made a takeback, before looking again. "There's... where have I..." She murmured, trying to place the man's costume and face.

 

"What's the matter, Cathy?" Gregory asked, while Serge perched up out of curiosity.

 

"Ah, that's right, it's that hero from the TV!" Before Greg and Serge could react, she opened the door, completely oblivious to the surprised and terrified looks of both her husband and child, and opened the door. "Why, mister Fast-Forward, thank you for your kind gesture. It's not everyday that a hero comes to our neighborhood. Please, come in!"

 

"Ummm... Greg?!" Serge whispered in a conspiratorial manner to his Stepfather, who replied in equally hush tones with. "Uhuh, I hear ya."

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"Hello!" declared Fast-Forward, all smiles. Inside, his mind was working fast - turning over scenarios at lightning speed to figure out how to handle the pretty clear problem of a teenage hero who evidently wasn't out to his parents. "And Merry Christmas! Is Serge Explinker here?" When the boy was pointed out to him, Fast-Forward's smile got a little bigger. "Congratulations, Serge! You won!" He hesitated a barely perceptible second before adding, "What, didn't you tell your mom and dad? Oh, you kids," he laughed. As if taking Greg and Cathy into his confidence, he declared, "Your boy's a great writer. His essay on what science means to him won the Discovery Channel's Christmas Essay Contest! That means he gets a day's run around the world with me, the fastest man alive! What do you think, Mom and Dad, can I borrow your boy for a little while? I know it's Christmas, but trust me, you'll be glad you did." 

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"My, wha-? Science? My Serge didn't tell me any-" Catherine said, confused over the sudden revelation. Moreover, Fast-Forward's explanation came at too fast a pace, making it even harder for her to keep up.

 

"Ah! That's right! The science essay!" Gregor hastily covered. "Didn't I tell you, honey? Heh, must have slipped my mind. It was only last week that Serge and I were talking about it about it. Isn't that right, Serge?" He nudged his stepson.

 

Taking the cue, Serge laughed nervously as he said "Ah, yes, yes! That's right! I DID tell you that I was working on an important project for my university, all these days, didn't I?" conveniently referring to his crimefighting doubleshifts.

 

"Now that you tell me..." Catherine aqcuiesced, still a bit doubtful about the whole scene.

 

"Oh, come on, honey. Don't you see that Fast-Forward is in a rush? It wouldn't do to delay them any more, now would it? I'm sure that Fast-Forward has other things to do as well."

 

"Ah... Ah, yes, I suppose..."

 

"Well, Serge? What are you waiting for, boy? Get going!"

 

"Ah, that's right!" Serge finally found the strength to get up. "Sorry mom, I know I promised you that I would spend the day with you two. Uh, I'll make it up to you, I promise!"

 

"Honestly, Serge... well, no use worrying about that." She finally gave in. "Just make sure you don't cause any trouble for Fast-Forward. Just because a super hero is supervising you, doesn't mean you should be trying any reckless stunts."

 

"A-as if I'd do that!" He protested, as he headed for the door, before stopping abruptly. "Ah! I forgot to take my notes- uh, my notebook, I mean!" He rushed to his room, taking his old schoolbag and wearing it.

 

"And what would you need your notebook, exactly?" His mom inquired.

 

"Ah, well, see... I have some programms that would help me analyse various phenomena that would occur during our high speed travel! It's... uh, gonna be a new experience for me, and I want to make sure I make the most of it!" Serge said, as he dashed to the door.

 

"... Just make sure to keep enough attention to actually experience the trip yourself..." She said, moments after the door had shut. turning to Gregory, she asked. "Do you think he'll be alright?"

 

Gregory just smiled at her. "It's Serge we're talking about here. You know he's a responsible young man." All the while assuring his wife, Greg silently gave his support to his stepson. Go knock 'em dead, buddy.

 

It was only a few minutes later that Catherine noticed that Serge had not taken his laptop with him. "Honestly, that boy..." she smiled, rationalizing that he must have forgotten to actually put the laptop in his bag.

 


 

Serge's heart was about to burst, but he managed to keep his composure long enough until he was far enough from his appartment. "Uh, sorry about that, mr Fast-Forward. My mom doesn't really know about my, uh... masked endeavors." Taking a sigh of relief, he put his game face on, and cut to the chase. "So, what's the sitch?"

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"The Scarab needs you to save the world from robot psychics from space." It sounded like the opening to one of Fast-Forward's shows - at least if the older man hadn't looked so serious. "I know you're just a kid, but if a Scarab vouches for you, you're all right in my book. You got your costume with you?" He helped Net Fly change at super-speed, turning his back to give the kid privacy (figuring teenagers couldn't be that different.) "All right, listen - I picked up Triakosia already, we need to get, uh, Grimalkin, Queenie, and maybe this Silver Magus guy, and then we need to get to Puerto Rico ASAP. Take my hand," he offered, "I'll get us where we need to go in time." 

 

And then they were speed - blinding, phenomenal speed as far above Net Fly's flight as he was above the slowest snail, zipping through the streets of a city on pause, then onto the equally frozen streets of the nearby suburbs, until they reached a small house in the suburbs. Still holding the wreath over his other arm, Fast-Forward let go of Net Fly, the world snapping back to something like normal speed. He knocked, again, rat-a-tat-tat. "Hey!" he called, "Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas, Epsteins!" 

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Between their own savings and the insurance settlement from Hurricane Sandy in 2011, Lynn Epstein's parents finally managed to purchase a small home in nearby Galloway two years ago; it was a modest single-story home, but it was settle back from the road on a semi-wooded plot, and there was an old shed out back where Butch could either build furniture or rock out in peace. With all the kids grown up and moved out, neither he nor Elaine needed a lot of space.

 

Christmas for the Epsteins, though in no way a formal holiday, was still a pleasant day; half-Italian Butch was brought up in a largely Catholic home, so while there was no tree, Christmas music still played on the radio while the elder Epsteins enjoyed a visit from their 'youngest' daughter. Elaine was reading a book in her favorite chair while nibbling on mushroom fried rice, whereas Lynn and Butch sat at the dining room table, pondering the Risk board that lay between them while sharing a nice bottle of Pinot Noir. Butch was shoveling leftover linguine and clams in red wine and garlic sauce in his mouth between moves; Lynn prefered her conjured Chinese food.

 

"No way you can hold Kamchatka, Sher, not with only fifteen armies." (Lynn's family still called her 'Sher' or 'Sheri', since her given name was actually Sherilyn.)

 

His changeling daughter chuckled and shook her head as she idly rearranged her piles of spare armies. "You have no idea what my strategy is, Dad, and you're not gonna weasel it out of me."

 

"Hmmm." Butch stroked his salt-and-pepper beard, squinted one eye and peered at her like a mad sea captain. "Hmm..."

 

Then there was a rapid series of knocks and someone called out Christmas wishes; without lifting her eyed from her book, Elaine called out, "We're not Christian, but thank you!"

 

Her husband scoffed as he rolled his wheelchair over to the front door. "Aw c'mon, hon! Some of us still love Baby Jesus!" He pulled the door open, expecting to see carolers; these were not carolers. "Merry...Christmas?" He blankly looked at the two heroes for a few seconds, too stunned to speak. "Honey? The guy from 'Supercrime!' is here."

 

In a flash, Lynn perked up and raced over to the door. "Oh, I love that show! Is there a camera crew?" Then she noticed Fast-Forward's grave expression, and her smile disappeared. "Oh...it's work stuff." She indicated her father with a jerk of her head as she crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame. "It's okay, they know. What's up?" The petite beauty was barefoot, wearing a big oversized sweater and black tights, and her curly brown hair was up in a ponytail, revealing her pointed ears.

Edited by Heritage
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"... Right." Even though he had heard quite a few things about Fast-Forward, one of the many superheroes the Claremont Academy had held a presentation about, Net Fly couldn't help but be somewhat weary. Not because he distrusted him, of course, but because he was unsure what a still largely untested and wet-behind-the-ears hero such as himself could do to actually help. That the Scarab vouched for him didn't help things, making Serge feel pushed further into the spotlight, though it did raise his confidence somewhat as well. Regardless, it was obvious that whatever was wrong, Fast-Forward was very urgent, and he didn't argue with the superhero. Opening his bag, he took out the vibro-suit that he had stashed inside, a custom made suit equipped with vibration amplifiers and gadgets, and with the help of Fast-Forward, he changed clothes in a matter of instances. Hiding his street clothes inside the bag, and stashing it in a safe place that he held near his home, Net Fly took Fast-Forward's hand. "Let's do thiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-"

 


 

"-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS!!!" Net Fly had told his mother that running with Fast-Forward would be a completely new experience for him, and while it was true that as Net Fly, he could run and fly at extremely high speeds, the feeling of running with Fast-Forward had so far dwarfed his previous experiences so as to let them eat dust. While Fast-Forward was busy knocking, Net Fly was trying to recover from the shock. He managed to find his bearings just as Lynn came to the door, and shouted "Ohmygod, this was INCREDI-no-AMAZING! The sheer speed, we must have broken the barrier of sound so many times over, I could barely hear my own thoughts! How do you DO that?" He asked Fast-Forward, completely drunk on speed. "How do you manage to run so fast, without losing control of your movements? You HAVE to te-" Finally noticing Lynn and Fast-Forward talking, he meekly apologized. "Oh, um, sorry. Got a bit carried away there... Don't mind me..." He scratched the back his headmask in utter embarrassment.

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Fast-Forward took an instant to assess the situation and relaxed fractionally. It certainly made things easier that Lynn Epstein was out to her family. "The Scarab needs you to save the world from robot psychics from space. I'm here to take you to Puerto Rico." It might have sounded absurd, almost comical, but the veteran speedster clearly came in earnest. Maybe I have time to run over and see Holly - no, there's a mission, I need to stick to it. "Do you need a minute to pack?"

 

"Time control," he added to Net Fly with a tense smile. "I speed up local time so I move faster, and I speed up our perception of time so it doesn't take all day. We'll talk more about it when we're done." 

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Lynn grinned as she stepped out of the doorway. "I only need a few seconds! Come in, warm up, have an anise cookie!" Butch rolled back and out of the way, clearly in awe to have Fast-Forward...and some other guy in his house; for her part, Elaine tried to act like she wasn't looking while keeping her nose buried in her physics book.

 

The changeling took out her smartphone and took a quick set of snapshots of the Risk board, then drew a small circle in the air and tucked the phone inside. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder. "Do we need to pick up anyone else?" She spread the circle wide with her fingers, revealing what looked like a small cave or burrow on the other side; a mild fresh breeze that smelled of pine needles wafted out of it. "'Cause we can Russian doll 'em if we need to save on weight."

 

Lynn's mom growled in frustration. "I wish you wouldn't violate the laws of space-time in our house." Her daughter rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Everything I do is a violation of space-time, Ma; better get used to it." Suddenly her body was surrounded by a swirl of gray vapor, which then dissipated to reveal Grimalkin; she was slighter of build than Lynn, with short dark spiky hair with reddish highlights, and when she spoke her voice was a tad higher, more like she was in her late teens. She wore her form-fitting suit of black and midnight-blue leather with a black domino mask.

 

"Here, gimme a kiss, Dad." She bent over to give Butch a quick smooch, then headed over to her mother. "Bye, Ma; love you both." After another quick kiss, she strolled over to the pair of waiting heroes and held out a hand, from which soon hung a small backpack. "If one of you would to the honors...?" Once the bag was held, there was a quick inrush of air, and the small young woman shrunk down to less than a foot high, suspended in the air by two pairs of buzzing gossamer wings. She sighed a tiny sigh. "Once again, I ride coach!"

 

Just as she was about to unzip the bag and climb inside when her mother cleared her throat. "Are you just going to leave that there, Sher?" The mysterious portal still hung in the air; Butch had rolled over and was reaching inside it, gently checking the softness of the ground.

 

"Oops, sorry Ma!" She quickly darted back to the hole, flew around it and collapsed the portal, which her father yanked his arm out of just in time. Then in two shakes she was inside the bag with her head poking out. "Ride like the wind, Bullseye!"

 

Her father laughed and waved goodbye. "Be careful out there, you little maniac! We need to finish up the game!"

Edited by Heritage
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Almost to the moment Fast-Forward left Triakosia took flight towards Puerto Rico at her best speed pouring everything into getting there as fast as possible. It only took her six minutes to get there and a few more minutes to find Arecibo, whilst it hadn't been long since she was last in the area she didn't know it all particularly well.

 

It was enough time however to think about what she could expect. Ever since she'd heard about everything going on with these Communion she'd expected a call, though not quite how, the League had helped set her up after all. Not that she would have hesitated to help she remembered little but she knew it was in her nature to help.

 

Finally, well for her, dhe found the massive dish and floated down towards Scarab.

 

"The others are on there way. I'm Triakosia what do you need me to do?"

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Christmas at the Southern Queen was a madhouse. Half the waiters and kitchen staff were off. The place wasn’t packed, exactly, but Maybelle McQueen was being kept on her toes. The Head Chef flittered this way and that, doing a dozen things at once. Simmering, sautéing, baking, mixing, frying, and even serving the odd dish to a surprised customer. She smiled as she went, pleased with herself. She ran a demanding kitchen, it was true. But the woman herself was sweetness and light, and her team respected her for that. Even the Queen’s manager deferred to his star attraction. She knew their names, of course, but they weren’t her friends or even all that close to her. The ones that tried to remedy that situation found themselves frustratedly fairly quickly. Chef McQueen just didn’t do friends.

This was how it was supposed to be. No guns. No giant monsters. No cackling villains. No pain. No terror. Just people, family, and the food of one Maybelle McQueen. Comfort and joy. The rush slowed. The dining room had stopped filling a while ago. Orders had ceased shortly thereafter. Everything that needed her personal attention while it was made was finished. So, Maybelle slipped out the back door and floated up to the roof. She had bolted an awning and a couch up here a while back. The couch was near a vent that let her hear the happenings in the dining room. She settled onto the couch, and shut her eyes. She was a little tired, but it was the good kind of tired. The tired that comes from working hard at something you love. She drifted, just a little. She would still hear if something happened.

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When the chef opened her eyes, a superhero, a Discovery Channel star, and a pixie were looking at her. Fast-Forward had run them right up to the roof as they'd arrived, his companions not slowing him down in the least as he'd first zipped around the restaurant, then up the wall, to find the last member of their party. "Maybelle McQueen," said Richard in the voice of a man tired of giving this speech, "the Scarab needs your help to save the world from robot psychics from space. Do you need a minute to pack?" he asked. "We need to get to Puerto Rico in about ten minutes and so we can't screw around." 

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To her credit, Maybelle was quick on the uptake. Though…she seemed sad, somehow. Can’t have one Christmas without trouble brewing, can I? “Pack? Don’t be silly, sunshine. I have a go bag ready. Gimme that minute, though. Need to change.†She stepped off the roof, dropped down in back of the Queen, and dashed inside. About a minute and a half later, she floated back up sans chef gear and with an overnight bag. “Managers. What can you do?†The question was rhetorical. “Anyway, anyone want a snack before we go? I’ve got extras.†A quick turn indicated she had a hiking backpack on as well. “I was gonna take this to the homeless shelter up the road, but it sounds like it’ll be more useful with us. Psychics and superheroes alike gotta eat, and there might not be time to hit the taco stand, you know?†She adjusted the straps on her backpack. “Robot psychics, huh? We’ll take ‘em down.†Her right hand drifted behind her as her left foot edged forward. She glowed a translucent silver and looked about as serious as a heart attack. “Nobody dies today if we can help it. Let’s go.†There was a hint of a teasing smirk. “You gonna run, Mister Forward, or we gonna combine powers and fly there?â€

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"What's your top speed?" 

 

When he got an answer to that, Fast-Forward managed a real smile. "...we're, uh, we're gonna run." he said gently, in much the same voice he might have used to tell Will he was a little young to go out all night with a pretty girl even if she was really pretty. "I didn't actually need you to shrink," he commented to Grimalkin as he took a bit of Queenie's rations. "But you looked good doing it!" 

 

Once everyone had done what they needed, he said, "OK, lock hands, we're on the move - we've got one more person to visit, and then we're back in Puerto Rico." 

 

-

 

"Kyle Finley," declared Fast-Forward, "the Scarab needs you to save the Earth from robot psychics from space." The little group had appeared before the erstwhile Silver Magus while he was doing some last-minute New Year's shopping, in the parking lot where no one happened to be looking at the time. "Let's roll!" 

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Kyle turned to the group, his secret identity having been completely busted. However, he knew the situation was certainly dire, especially at the mention of 'robots from space', which he knew exactly what THAT meant; the Communion had finally arrived on earth. He recognised Triakosia in the group and nodded at her.

 

"Yes, well, just one moment." The man said, getting his cellphone, dialing. There was a short wait as the person on the other hand of the phone answered. "It's me. I'll be missing, work call. Yes, THAT kind of work." Then he closed the phone.

 

"One more moment please." Added the mage, opening the car trunk and taking out a briefcase; his armor. "Ah, yes, there. I'll put on once we are...well, wherever we need to go."

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"We're going to Puerto Rico, where the Arecibo Radio Telescope is broadcasting the ionic..." He trailed off and shook his head, briefly wondering how science geeks kept all this straight in their heads. "Look, there's this big radio thing, and the psychics are using it to reach out into space and fight the Communion. I don't know how all this stuff works - but we're going there right now. Everybody hold hands!" Once everyone was in a circle, with him in the middle, Fast-Forward nodded and said, "All right! Time to FAST-FORWARD!" 

 

And with that, they were off; Freedom City replaced with a static ocean that flew by beneath their rapidly-churning feet, the sky dark and gorgeous overhead with a million blurred stars. It certainly didn't look like they were being invaded, anyway - but it was a beautiful night. 

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Queenie was a little put out. I can too go faster than sound. It’s just really easy to get lost. Does he have any idea how long it took me to find Charleston before I bought a GPS app? It took me a week just to find my hometown from Freedom. Ooh, I’m little ticked. Just for that, you don’t get any dessert, Mister Forward. And I brought some of my national award winning peach cobbler. She almost stuck her tongue out at him, but managed to be a adult and refrain. Oh, well that makes sense. He reminds me a little of Daddy. “Do we have a plan besides being a wall between the psychics and harm? Making anything worth eating starts with a good recipe that leaves room for improvisation. Same goes for the hero stuff, I think.â€

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God, how long had it been since Grim was part of team-up? Literally a lifetime ago due to her time in Colt's World! Peeking out of her backpack, the sensation of speed was much higher to her at her reduced size, and as she felt the acceleration press down on her diaphram and the wind rush past hrr face, the tiny heroine began to giggle like a maniac.

 

And you could totally tell Fast-Forward was a dad.

 

In reponse to Queenie's question, the wee pixie shouted a reply. "I agree, though technically improv is what I do best! If we do need to make fortifications, I'm your girl! By the way, you smell delicious!"

Edited by Heritage
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  • 2 weeks later...

When they arrived, they found those they'd be protecting sitting in lotus position in a circle around the Scarab, all of them resting on the observation platform of the famous Arecibo Radio Telescope. Fast-Forward took a moment to bend down next to Hologram and kiss her cheek, then turn to the others. "All right, people, these are the people we're protecting. And the telescope too," he added with an instant's thought. "They wouldn't be here if the telescope wasn't important, so we've got to protect that too." Crap, I sound like one of Will's duller classmates. Well I'm sorry, but I'm not the leader guy! I'm the guy who sasses the bad guy and then punches him through the roof! "This is Triakosia," he added, a little belatedly, making introductions so that everybody knew each other. "Let's be ready to kick some butt, and...oh, damn!" 

 

Over their heads, the sky was noticeably beginning to darken, clouds seeming to spring up at super-speed as if watching a time-lapse video from below. "That's gonna put a crimp in our shorts..." Sure enough, on closer inspection the cloud appeared to be descending as it headed for the heroes, a half-visible shape forming inside the descending black cloud bank as if they were going to be swallowed up - or crushed!

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The journey to Puerto Rico was over in the blink of an eye, and no matter how many times they'd start and stop during the recruitment phase of the trip, Serge still couldn't get used to it. By the time he got his barings, Net Fly found himself standing amidst the meditating heroes. "Woah..." he whispered. The Scarab, Blue Fox, and there was Hologram, Fast-Forward's wife, as well, along with Nano Angel and Miss Grue, all of them in a trance-like state. "This is for real. This is actually happening... we are supposed to be protecting these heroes from any interferrence with their work..."

 

With the reality of the situation setting in, Serge found himself wildly fluxating between fear, anxiety, anticipation, and thrill. "Heh." a small grin escaped him, gradually expanding into a full-blown laughter. "Hehehe... Hehehhehahaaha! Awesome! We're in Puerto Rico, protecting a bunch of heroes from Space Robots! Maaan, Subito is gonna be pissed that he missed this!" he remarked, as he remembered his good friend, El Heraldo.

 

After the short introduction to Triakosia, Net Fly noticed Fast-Forward's worried look, and following it, he found himself staring to the descending 'cloud'. "Hah! I bet that's a spaceship using a cloaking device of some sort, if I ever saw one." he noted, brimming with confidence. "It's cool, I've ran against a robot-manned spaceship in a simulation at the Doom Room! According to the senario, the robots wanted to cleanse the organics off the face of the world. After talking with them, I persuaded them against that, only to find out that they changed their plan into one of assimilation. Had to go sneaking around their ship and playing sabotage." Serge was very proud of his achievement, despite the fact that said simulation was just that; a simulation.

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Danica had had a few moments before the rest had arrived to watch the psychic hero works, it was quite peaceful to watch them. Serene even, unless you knew what they up against. When the other arrived she was friendly but there was a certain hardness behind her voice, she knew how serious this could be having faced one of them before, and she still had a niggling feeling she faced a world threatening event like this before.


One that they’d lost.


“It’s a shame that we’re meeting in such circumstances, but I pleased to meet all of you.†still no need to be unfriendly.

 

“Looks like we get to babysit. And that mean’s we’re going to rapidly find out what we can all do, I’m going to be doing mostly air support.â€

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Grimalkin nodded in greeting to Triakosia, then turned to raise a finger towards Net Fly. "Hey, not to rain on your parade, but don't get too cocky; we have no idea what these aliens can do. I understand it's good to get out into the action, but this will be much more unpredictable than any simulation." She shrugged. "For starters, we've never worked together before, which always throws in a few twists."

 

The changeling began to pace around the mystics, her eyes darting between their immobile charges and the cloud above.

 

"How do we feel about erecting some sort of protective structure around our brain trust here? Maybe even multiple rings of defense?"

Edited by Heritage
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Whirring and twisting, the metal plates formed around Kyle's body, moving in place over the undersuit, composing the external shell of his armor. His suitcase had unfurled into the assembly for his armor, the rest being moved into place with his spells. The man lifted one leg after another as the components for the rocket boots moved into their proper position, the shining metallic plates convering the inner mechanism. Meanwhile the assembly continued on his chest and shoulder, sealing them off as the rest of them move up the back of his head, finally forming the helmet.

 

"Perhaps some protective spell could be of use here. Or perhaps I could see what I can jury rig on the armor in a way specifically tailored to disabling the Communion. I'm open to any of your suggestions, as I am somewhat short on time to prepare."

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