Paradigm_Shift

He Who Lies paused about a dozen feet from his starting location. He raised his head, and sniffed the air. His ears twitched.

'Somebody is watching me...'

He reached into his robes, and to the belt of his combat fatigues, drawing a throwing knife. He held it up to the wind, and closed his eyes. The wind made a ringing, echoing noise, like a tuning fork. He Who Lies opened his eyes. And then he turned to look straight at Blackdraft, his eyes boring into hers like rods being fired from a railgun. The hand holding the throwing knife made a blurred gesture...

*Thunk*

The throwing knife had been buried to its hilt in a rock right next to Blackdraft's head.

"Come out where I can see you properly." He Who Lies spoke, not shouting but somehow conveying his words perfectly and clearly over the distance between them.

Boomtown.

This is where the Truth would happen.

A man sat atop the wreckage of a sky-scraper, looking down into the streets below. White robes covered black combat fatigues, white hair with the ends dyed black, and three porcelain plates covering different parts of his face. He Who Lies was, for now, a happy man. Just looking at the smoldering, crumbling ruins of civilization before him brought a small smile to his lips. It reminded him of how close he was to accomplishing his goal. It reminded him of the obsticals he had overcome to be here. It reminded him of his birthplace, Astoria.

That thought wiped the smile off his face. He looked down darkly. It was time to look at the situation realistically. Boomtown was the second-largest zone in Paragon City. Every area looked exactly the same as the last - blasted nothing. Anything of value had already been picked clean from the ruins. Anything of interest had either been blown up or inhabited, occupied, stormed, and THEN blown up. Nobody ever came to Boomtown. Not even the heroes. Villains came to Boomtown more often than the City's finest. That was just how utterly worthless the place was.

But the catalyst was down there somewhere. Even if it took him the rest of his life...

'I will find it.' He Who Lies thought grimly, getting to his feet and lightly leaping off the sky-scraper to land noiselessly on his feet more than 300 yards down. 'First thing's first. I need to "encounter" some of the local wildlife. If anyone knows what's going on around here, it'll be the people who spend their time in this dump.' He Who Lies set forward through the wasteland that was Boomtown.

As most of you probably recall, flight used to have a tohit penalty and no suppression. The tohit penalty was removed and suppression was thrown in. It's endurance cost was also lowered so it didn't suck your entire bar dry in 40seconds of use.

And then we have group flight. A power which would actually be a pretty neat (if somewhat odd) tactical and useful in various situations if not for one thing: It has a tohit penalty of 25%.

25%

That is completely ridiculous. /Dark users would kill to have that kind of tohit debuff potential in one or even three separate powers. Group flight has a bit of a speed penalty given to others in its radius, which makes it questionable in terms of a group travel power. What makes it useful is the manueverability it affords a group in combat. The power is designed in such a way that it benefits large teams by giving them limited immunity to knockback/knockdown, targetted slow powers, (such as Knives of Artemis caltrops) and the option of maintaining distance for ranged superiority. Imagine fighting an Archvillain or a GM using group flight. It neuters their ability to counter ranged archtypes like Blasters, Corrupters, Controllers and Dominators. Group Flight would see a great deal more use if it didn't have such a gigantic penalty attatched to it. So my suggestion boils down to this:

Remove the 25% tohit debuff penalty in group flight.

Add suppression to group flight.

Either increase the personal end cost of a single person using group flight, or decrease the cost but spread it out over the entire group for each person being affected by it.

The Conducter didn't super-slip on the ice. He got shot in the legs instead. The wounds weren't serious, but they would hinder him in the long run, so he made a gesture towards the enforcers and retreated - carefully - away from Pstorm to perform first aid on himself.

The three enforcers who had emerged from the portal were not hassled by the twin storms, the remaining two having been unfortunate enough to maintain the ire of the respective whirlwinds. When the Conducter gestured at them, they all opened fire on Pstorm.

"I don't think your sister is in any condition to be moved right now, even with my help." He Who Lies said. "That, and if we got in a fight...She'd just be a dead weight, unconcious as she is. Plus, I'm pretty drained right now. Maybe we should just stay put until she wakes up."

***

OOC: Waitin' on you, Krazy.

The Conducter became a blur, manuevering around the tornadoes at super speed before launching himself at Pstorm in an attempt to smite her across the face. The two other enforcers were each caught by the two-pronged attack in turn, both of them being tossed around like ragdolls as the localized storms chased them around.

***

The three undercover enforcers steadily got back onto their feet, glaring for a moment at the armored heroine they had shot earlier and the "Union-siders."

And then they turned around and went back through the portal.

He Who Lies acted quickly, tearing off Candice's right sleeve to expose her arm. He rummaged around in his robes and pulled out a sealed ink-pot and a very finely-tipped brush. With smooth and controlled strokes, he started to draw a small sigil on her shoulder. An image began to appear. It was an hourglass, and the top bulb had fragmented, letting the contents spill out of it entirely rather than drop into the bottom bulb. A coiled snake's tail led away to link and turn into the head of a woman with no face. A series of small illegible scribbles. Once He Who Lies was finished, the entire ink-pot had been drained, and the man suddenly looked fatigued.

"That...Should do it..." He said, breathing heavily. "That should make her resistant to most poisons. With the amount she's already inhaled, her body should start synthesizing an antibody with the help of that. I predict she will awaken in less than five hours."

***

Pstorm's surprise attack naturally caught all of the enforcers entirely by surprise and flung them backwards, right in the direction of the portal.

Except for one. The head enforcer didn't even seem surprised, just mildly annoyed, and the only movement he made was to turn towards her, casually stretch out both arms and catch two of his cronies before they flew through the portal. The other three went right on through. He let the enforcers down onto their feet, both of them immediately separating to put some distance between the three of them since it was obvious the hero before them had area abilities.

"Little girl," The head enforcer said in a low and VERY angry voice. "You need to be making the morally RIGHT choice. Are you going to waste time fighting me here when this bomb has already done its job, or are you going to find and disarm the last one before IT explodes?" His fists began to seethe with negative energy. "Because you don't have time to do both." The Conducter, Red Death's right-hand man, waited calmly for her reaction.

And then the last bomb went off.

***

Unionverse

The unfortunate enforcers who hadn't been saved by the Conducter found themselves flung through the portal unceremoniously and landing face-first in a large stream of muck, stunned trying processing what had just happened, and in front of the three heroes there.

***

Virtueverse, St. Martial, Undisclosed location

It was a plesantly lit room, with a splendid veranda overlooking the ocean, marble tiles for the floor with the occasional ornate pillar thrown in, a pool (which will not be further described in any way), and a mishmash of Eastern and Carribean art and cultural decorations. One wall was, in fact, a very neatly styled monitor that look just like a wall until it was turned on. Right now, a VERY angry individual was watching reports flood in as the second bomb detonated.

The individual squeezed the glass he was holding, shattering it in rage.

He walked - no, STORMED over to a nearby desk, hit the speaker button for the intercom there, and spoke.

"Arrange an incredibly violent, explosive and PUBLIC accident for Dr. Mechano. An example needs to be made. And get that damned Union rat up here along with a few Plague Spreaders. I think he needs to learn what happens when he doles out inaccurate information."

He turned the intercom off, and headed for the kitchen to get himself a new glass of ---------. He let loose a little steam as he did so, taking deep breaths and reminding himself that it could be worse. All three bombs could have gone off, fully merging both dimensions. Even with two portals up, as long as he controlled one of them, he had a large monopoly. He might even be able to control both! He severely doubted that, but one never knew.

The elevator that served as the only entrance dinged open. A terrified, ratty-looking man wearing rags and cuffed was shoved out by two arsonists. The man walked over, the captive's sudden scream as he saw him silenced by a swift kick to the face.

"Into the pool." He gestured, sipping from his new glass. The arsonists obliged. The man's screams never went beyond the veranda's security glass.

"I can kinda see what's happening on the other side..." One of the disguised enforcers said, squinting through the portal. "That cape is still alive. Do you think she might try to get them to help her...specifically in the task of beating us to a pulp?"

"It's not beyond all doubt." The head enforcer stated calmly. "But in that event, the moment they come through, we can always say she is nortorious for disguises and trickery and the such. Heck, if they're from a different universe, we could even say her crimes have led to such and such disaster." He mused. "In any case, I don't think we're going to have too much trouble. They wouldn't dare try and go through without waiting a few hours for officials to arrive. And reinforcements will be here soon, and then, it won't matter what they choose to do."

"Hold your fire, secure the perimeter." The head enforcer hissed as a spray of bullets came back through the portal, spraying his pant-leggings with sewage as they just barely missed chopping his legs out from under him. The remaining enforcers obeyed, and retreated to a safer distance, keeping their weapons leveled on the portal.

"If one of those Union-capes comes through, we're going to try and dupe them. Violence will be a last resort." The head enforcer stated calmly, and checked his watch. Reinforcements would be arriving in about an hour with the proper equipment to stabilize the portal and possibly try to secure the other side.

But, of course, that would all be irrelevant if the other bombs weren't disabled. Even now, Longbow was issuing soldiers into the sewer system to disable the remaining two bombs, and had issued a general alert to any heroes who wanted to help.

The head enforcer triumphantly surveyed the newly formed portal. He reached into his coat and pulled out a sattelite phone. He casually turned to the enforcers beside him, and uttered:

"Kill the hero."

All the other enforcers opened fire on Hyperstream with their uzis.

The head enforcer, in the meantime, backed a ways away and hit the speed-dial on his sattelite phone. "Hey boss. The portal is UP. Go ahead and send in the reinforcements. By this time tomorrow, Red Death will be in control of the ONLY portal between the Virtueverse and the Unionverse. Longbow has already received an anonymous tip on the whereabouts of the other two bombs. They should be disabled shortly. Over and out." He turned the sattelite phone off with satisfaction, and surveyed the newly formed portal, thoughts of the unspoiled and unsuspecting market on the other side. Oh yes, Red Death would do VERY well over there. Assuming everything went according to plan and the other two bombs didn't go off, that is.

"It's fine." He Who Lies said, smiling lightly. "Just a little accident I had. The porcelain kept enough pressure on it to keep it from bleeding, and it should be fine for a day or two." He looked around and frowned. "Do you get the feeling we're being watched...?"

***

Hyperstream rounded the corner and came face to face with two of the undercover thug enforcers posing as PPD detectives.

"Hold it, lady, this is an official PPD crime scene." One of them said, presenting his police I.D. "I'm going to have to insist you leave the area immediately, we cannot allow you to contaminate the scene."

The other four enforcers suddenly went tense, resting their hands on their weapons around the next corner as they heard their comrade speak.

Virtueverse, Paragon City, King's Row, Sewer Sytem...

"Sir. The bomb has started to charge. I think its been armed." One of the undercover enforcers said to their leader, still sitting casually atop the device.

"...Yes. I figured as much. Anything else?" He asked.

The enforcer coughed. "Well, shouldn't we, ah...You know...run?"

"Nope." The head enforcer said. "Orders are from Red Death. Stay and guard it. Even if it detonates, we will be staying RIGHT here until we get the call. I have it on the highest authority that this bomb will either destroy all of reality or just create a localized dimensional portal. I imagine the boss wants the sole ownership of that should it happen."

"Oh. So its one of those theoretically "harmless" bombs, right?" The enforcer asked nervously. The head enforcer stared at him.

"Theoretically." He said softly, his voice tinged with annoyance. The inquisitive enforcer sheepishly went back to his post, and reminded himself never to ask for reassignment ever again if he got out of this.

The centipede pried itself off of the ground. It momentarily considered going berzerk and ripping the offending human to shreds, but then...He saw his contact.

'The nightmare is finally OVER!' The centipede thought, struggling to get up. And then a fracture formed across the entire length of his exoskeleton. '...Over as soon as I molt.' He corrected himself, slumping back onto the ground.

He Who Lies nodded absently and followed Blake, keeping a keen eye out for trouble. He occasionally reached up to his face, as if to touch the revulting sight there, but always refrained at the last moment.

***

Tienxia reared back his head, his eyes flaring again. The smile slackened somewhat.

"You don't know what Carmot is...? Hecate would laugh if she was still around. Hysssahahaha..." He shook his head, which may have either been out of sadness or amusement. "And to think your kind fussed over it so much as little as three hundred years ago...So much has changed. How to put this...What would the terminology be...?" The wolf raised a paw to its jaw, seeming to mockingly ponder his response. "...Hmm. The Stuff of Divinity? Star Matter? The Fifth Element? The Hidden Element? The Final Trigger? Alchemist Treasure? Inovation Manifest? The Golden Sun? It had a lot of names, really...But Carmot was always Carmot. Everyone knew what it was. And all of them, Motes, Pebbles, Secrets and Graces...They all wanted, NEEDED it. Hysssahahahahahahahaha..." The laugh seemed a bit more like an insane giggle this time around, but was no less dark.

He Who Lies popped over the fence and landed on his feet softly, his landing not evoking even the lightest of sounds. Come to think of it, he made zero noise while moving around. The man was very light-footed. He looked at Blake and frowned slightly.

"Are you ok?" He asked, gently implying that there was a variety of conflicting emotions storming across the youth's face.

***

He Who Lies expertly twisted out of every attack his opponents assaulted him with with ninja-like reflexes, jabbing each of them in their arms and legs with precise stabs of his rapier to disarm and incapacitate them. With both Skulls unable to get back up, he turned to Blake, the contents of the now broken porcelain plate revealed.

"If your arm is alright, we should get moving." He said, although not unkindly.

***

"Man." The large wolf repeated. "And so it was Man. And Man has always known me as Tienxia." The wolf trotted over on all fours, locking onto Revelin's eyes with his four fiery orbs. "Tell me, Man. The Plague is fouling the little Motes, wandering lost as they are. What Pebble caused that ripple...?" It stopped barely a foot short. It smelled like a chemical lab.

"Ok, KHELDIAN." The centipede said very aggressively. How he knew the man was Kheldian was up to question. "I'm going to say the following slowly, and in YOUR language so that we don't misunderstand each other. K'? <I have had a VERY VERY bad day already. My ride is wrecked, my filters haven't arrived, a giant psychic WHALE is trying to kill EVERYTHING, already got stepped on once, and now you assault me. So I'm going to wave that, just this once. But one more time and I will use you as FUEL, just the Coming Storm.> The centipede suddenly switched back to English, now sounding a good deal more pleasant. "I feel better now. So scram, sea-shape shifter."

He was about to turn and leave when a Psychic Wail blasted across the beach from Krill Killer. In reaction, several of the centipede's legs started to spasm uncontrollably.

"And now my day is complete. Perfect. Just what I needed." The centipede snarled to itself, wobbling rather precariously as it tried to exit the beach proper.

He Who Lies sprang into action, smoothly overshadowing the Skull who had just shouted and spearing him through the gut while he was still getting up.

And then one of his pals shot He Who Lies in the face. The porcelain that covered the lower-right section of his jaw shattered as the bullet impacted, but thankfully deflected. Beneath was a twisted and contorted mess of dark-red skin that seemed to be secreting something green, with folds and furrows that made it clear they were there to stay. Emblazoned and glowing a harsh purple was an arcane sigil.

But the offending skull did not get a chance to observe this. His head hit the pavement with a knife sticking out of it. The white-robed man freed his rapier and engaged two more of the group who were advancing with firemen's axes, while the remaining two advanced on Blake.

***

The boy rounded the corner to see the sludge barely a dozen feet away. Only now, instead of being nearly flat and slug-like, it was now a looming figure that seemed to fill the tunnel. Visible was a single Mortificator of the Vahzilok, who was staying stock-still on account of the tar-like being holding something red and glowing beneath his chin.

"Little little Mote, lost in the..." The words spoken were odd. They seemed old, primordial. But they stopped. The tall, looming figure of tar turned around, still holding the glowing claw under the Mortificator's chin. Four fiery eyes burned as they surveyed the youth. A very large grin split across the creature's face, releasing a pool of red and glowing "drool" that pooled across the ground, only to be mopped up by the thing's tail as it started to sweep the ground excitedly.

"Little lost Mote stays lost forever." The giant wolf declared. It raised its claw and decapitated the Mortificator, his head begining to melt and rot away as it came into contact with it, the corpse crashing into the sewage. "I think you can help me, Pebble of the Pond. Hysssahahahaha...How would I address a Pebble with such large ripples...?"