"I want to make pottery," said Bode. "It is... I am very curious about it. It used to be such an important human form of art. Now nobody does it. That makes me uncomfortable. You taught me to preserve and disseminate data but it seems like such an important human communications medium has almost faded away entirely. I want to recover it."
He was silent for a long moment.
"But the world must be saved as a precondition. So I will help you with that first."
He reached out his hand to shake.
Victor lets out the breath, and it's like that was the only thing holding him upright. "Okay. Thank goodness, and thank you, and I'm gonna get you the best pottery throwing stand ever after this is done."
He'd like nothing more than to hug him, but... that wasn't offered. And he's trying out that new thing where he pays attention to what other people want so... handshakes it is.
"Now, with that said, may I borrow some things?"
Turbo Knight!You are dirty, and sticky, and angry. Hold on to that anger. Let it fuel you, drive you forward. Let your anger burn hotter inside you than the plasma in the Magna Melter.
Speaking of the Magna Melter... The last bits of blast door before you glow orange and drip to the floor, carving trails in the floor. Beyond it...
"I've been waiting for you, Miss Knight the Second."
The smug bastard. Give him this, when he goes full supervillain, he really plays the part. Floor-to-chin leather tuxedo, a swirly cape carefully fashioned to swirl in the nonexistent wind, a high collar? Deliberately evoking the stylings of classic villains like DracMan or the UberMind? Nice touch. And as final confrontation battlegrounds go, empty hangers aren't quite top-tier. Lacking an erupting, cataclysmic volcano for them to battle in, he's made do. Props for getting the little details right, though; the low layer of fog coating the floor wouldn't be nearly as impressive without all the little lights scattered behind the industrial, riveted I-beams. Most people don't get that right, you know--if you want a dark, impressive space and also want the fog, you
need to consider where the light to illuminate the fog comes from, or else it's just a dark room and you look stupid. Oh, and the TAG slowly rising up out of the silo behind him, eye lights casting beams of orange into the light grey? Perfection.
Of course, none of that's gonna matter in a few seconds; already, the Magna-melter feels hot in your palm. The orange light blossoms, grows. And he's not even moving. Good. He's already seen sense, and is waiting for death.
From there, things happen very quickly. The Magna-Melter blossoms open fully, shoving you back a few inches with its volcanic spew, lighting the room with orange death! And in the split second it's active, three things occur to you.
This is an aircraft hanger, right? Friggin' huge room. And right now, the ceiling is about two meters lower than it should be. And rough, uneven, hewn from roughly tesselated, angular shapes. And those shapes are full of Blacksun logos. All across the ceiling, orange pilot lights flicker into being, swiveling, turning to face you.
A drone bursts from the group, intercepts the Magna-melter beam, carves a gouge into the floor, and that's all the warning you get before the swarm descends.
And really, it's only proof of how much better you are than him. You're not just better, you're
richer, and that's why you're
winning. Between the Magna-Melter, your Turbo Knight armor, and Perseus, there's no threat that you can't handle. Who the hell does he think he is? Did he think he'd actually be able to stand against Turbo Knight II with nothing more than your own army of bots? You'll blast your way through this, and buy more, and still not feel any pinch in your budget. Your hardlight generator whirrs, glows white hot under Perseus' direction, slicing dozens, hundreds of bots from the air like a laser-powered cuisinart. Drones fire, explode, and bounce off you like raindrops off an umbrella, before briefly glowing red and slagging against the floor. Your armor glows red hot from the heat around you, and yet here you stand, cool as a cucumber, safe, secure, definitely sane, and stronger than he is.
Even the TAG getting involved can't stop you. It impacts against you like a linebacker, arms around you. He's a moron, you know that? You're Turbo Knight the second, CEO of AEGIS and Blacksun, but right now? You're just the woman kicking his stolen army's ass, a glowing angel of destruction. The TAG shudders and begins to melt just from the contact, white hot steam rising from screaming plastic.
You're too hot to handle, and he's running out of drones. And unlike you, every drone is one he can't afford to lose. And he's still just sitting there, smiling! Not moving a muscle! He's losing, and he's obviously too dumb to realize it, or he'd be running by now! The Magna-Melter is burning in your hand, and all you need is to wrestle the TAG's remains off you, and you'll finally have the shot you need, the shot you want, the shot you
deserve.And that's when the E-Mauler in the rafters lets out its familiar explosive bark, and the generator in your armor goes nova against your back. Where'd. What? Perseus had known about invisible assholes! He'd prepared you for them, told you to be on the lookout for them, told yout that after last time, they had to be ready for a known factor! And, and! And the ceiling had been covered in drones...
"Suit at critical. Ejecting," Perseus announces in your headset. "Downloading core programming to implants in 3, 2..."
White hot bits of armor slough off, clang against the floor, carve craters of molten concrete where they land. And for the first time, Victor moves.
He's... helping? Helping to prise melting armor from your body, picking shattered bits of hardlight generator, the sentimental fool. You raise the gun... and get it slapped out of your hands. You're out of your armor now, on the floor, coughing, burning, and he's got you pinned and is shoving something against your temple.
And now, you're a we.
Prometheus!Or do you prefer Perseus? I mean, you've had a chance to rebrand yourself. Not like Victor ever asked you whether you wanted to be the titan stealing fire for mankind.
Either way, this is definitely a new experience for you, isn't it? Being in a physical form? Whatever Victor did to Victoria is... Well, it wasn't in the plans. You can't access the net, can't escape, can't jump to a backup. Can't think with the millions of actions per second you're used to. Can't move the body.
Or rather, you can, can't you? The arms--your arms, now--twitch vaguely with every thought. But it seems like every time you try to send a signal--arm do this--there's another signal telling it to do something different. And a voice in your head, screaming to get out of her body, this isn't right, this isn't how it ends, how dare you, how dare he. How's it feel, being a body for the very first time?
Brainstorm!Victor sighs, raggedly, and calls, "Do you have any burn lotion?"
The jar's in his hand even before Locker shrugs off the invisibility cloak, and Victor nods his thanks.
Should he monologue? He wants to monologue. It'd be his right to monologue. But as he rolls the catatonic Victoria/Prometheus--Victorious? Promethea?--over and starts to apply the burn lotion, he's shuddering almost too hard to breathe.
That plan had no business working, and it's... His hands are shaking, and his chest is heaving, and wet tears--relief? Actual sadness?--are pouring down and mixing with the lotion. Salt in the wound, he realizes, and lets out a ragged, tentative laugh.
"Locker? Lemme ask you something, alright? I've asked a lot recently, but... you have a favorite restaurant you'd like to go to?"
Fetzen
Phoe
Lurking Krog