conversations: human
conversations:  Hercules   clenched the prodigious, semi-divine muscles in his forearm; his fingers, pulled by near-godly sinews, squeezed together in response.  Flamebug, the Fire of Justice, the hero of New Angeles, gurgled in his grasp.  The pyrokinetic jerked and writhed in the air, held firmly with his feet kicking in the air with Hercules' meaty fist around his neck.  Blades of flame sizzled and flared all around him as he struggled in the  demigod's  grip, but where Flamebug's fire beat against Hercules' massive frame, there was simply the sizzling sound of Hercules' sweat vaporizing.
  
  Hercules simply grinned, stroking his curly ruddy beard with his other hand.   "If you tell me where she is, how to get her back, maybe I'll let you live.  Maybe, I'll keep you chained in my fireplace, to keep my chambers warm at night.  I'll roast marshmallows on you, and you can keep your miserable life." 
  
  Flamebug gurgled in Hercules' grasp.  "Gah!  I don't-  -know- ! -wasn't- -there-!"
  
  An apocalyptic look passed over Hercules' face.   "Then  who  was?  Who attacked my beloved?  Who exiled her to the Negarealm?  TELL ME, WHO TOOK MY    STARNOVA    FROM ME?! 
  
  With each word, Hercules' grip had tightened.  He didn't notice over his explosive anger.  By the time he had finished his last question, he realized Flamebug's neck had been crushed, the hero limp and bug-eyed in his grasp.
  
   "Damnit, not again,"  Hercules muttered, dropping the corpse to the ground.  He gestured to the alien computer screen dominating the far wall.   "   Cortex   , get rid of this body.  I need to remember how frail the mortals are next time." 
   Yes, Lord Hercules , the AI said.  Strange crystalline constructs sprouted from the rocky walls, vaguely humanoid, and picked up the dead Flamebug and dragged him off.
  
   We cannot give up, Lord Hercules.  Surely one of the heroes of Earth will know the temporo-spatial coordinates of Commander Starnova.  We must simply continue questioning them. 
   "Agreed, Cortex."   Hercules strode to the large, clear crystal viewing window.  So many times, he remembered, he stood in this very spot and held his beloved Starnova in his arms as they both looked across the dusty lunar surface, into the black expanse of space and the shining blue orb that was the Earth.  They would talk about their plans of conquest, or else they would not talk at all and let their passions consume them; Cortex's constructs would dutifully repair all the damage to the Moonbase their romantic interludes would inevitably cause.
  
  Now, he stood there alone, consumed with anger.
  
  The sniveling mortal,    Phantom   , the third of their Triumvirate, had betrayed them.  Phantom and her team had exiled his beloved to the Negarealm.  He could not find Phantom, he knew that; the wily costumed mortal could not be found if she did not want to.  But there were others who witnessed Starnova's betrayal... he did not know who they were, but he'd find them, find them all, even if it meant bringing every single last hero from the Earth here to meet his wrath personally.
  
  Which was precisely what he was doing.
  
   "Cortex, how many more are there?" 
   Flamebug was #15 of 257 potential targets who could have- 
   "Bah, this is taking too long.  Bring the next four in, at the same time." 
   Lord Hercules, do you think that is prudent? 
   "Am I not Hercules, son of Zeus, mightiest there is?  They are mere mortals.  They will answer for Starnova's betrayal." 
   
   Spoiler 
  
  You are all about to be teleported to the Moon; what were you doing before Cortex' teleportation locks on?
   
conversations: Sojobo:
conversations: human
conversations:  Coil, having just tied up some muggers, was swinging her way back up to a good vantage point of the city and was eyeing a particular gargoyle to hang from.
conversations: Ramsus:
conversations: human
conversations:  In the very centre of the  Netherworld, Velaste  -- the abode of Supreme Overlord Amaryllis,  Castle Pandemonium ... 
  
  A mischevious, impish tango piece plays in the background.  A silhouetted wolf howls on a foreground cliff, brief telling the story of the high-spired castle in the distance, eclipsing a pale moon upon the blood-red sky.  The genteel hum of the fair, motherly Supreme Overlord can be heard from the Gothic balcony as she tends to her basil and oregano, which sits right next to the apocalypse chillis and hellbulbs, menacing with spiky-black thorns along their root.
  
  " Overlord, Overlord! " croons a bobbling rotund hellbird, adorably cute with the red gem on its stomach and frilled capelet embroided with a loving ' K ' on the centre.
  " Eh?~ " Supreme Overlord Amaryllis' voice is tender and pleasant.  " What is it, dear Kina? "
  " It's time for your daily call to your daughter, kyu! "
  " Oh~!  Goodness, it's that time already! "
  
  She raises a tiny foreign object and encases it in a powerful scrying crystal.  Upon closer inspection, it's a  Vodafone (TM) mobile SIM card.  Several bobbling hellbirds carry french horns to helpfully play a demonic rendition of a dial-up tune...
  
   ...and a studio apartment fashioned out of a cheaply-refurbished motel,  Earth, San Angeles.  
  
  A clamshell mobile with a cute yellow and orange-checkered case starts to vibrate.  Drawn curtains barely filter out the light of the sun outside, further blocked by the stack of takeout containers and pizza boxes and an unwashed saucepan stacked ontop of a steel-bottomed pot stacked ontop of...
  
  " Mm... " Dark Lord and Fourth Princess of Hell Zephyrantes rolls on her bed, very much still asleep and curled up around two additional adorable hellbirds, this time with an embroided ' N ' and ' M ' on their capelets.  The Dark Lord's pajamas are adorably pink with white polka-dots, with little ruffles at the hems and cuffs, though in line with her true devotion to twintaildom, her hair is still tied up in large poofy bedtime scrunchies to either side of her.
  
  " N--nyu?! " squeakes the N-embroidered bird, perking up with panicked white eyes.  " Zephy, Zephy, wake up!  Your phone's ringing! "
  " I'm  sleepy ... let me sleep  five  more minutes... mmm... " comes the slow, slumbering moan from the sleeping princess.
  " It's your mother, nyu!  You should answer her! "
  " Nina, let me sleeeep... "
  
  The flip-top of the mobile suddenly pops up, along with a very sweet-sounding, "  Zephe-nee~!  I know you're really busy lately, but mommy really misses you~!  Oh, everyone's doing so well over here.  I'm so proud of the  baatezu , did you know they raised over thirty-thousand hfil with their bake sale last week?  The atomic brownies were a real hit with the attorneys down in 7th!  Oh, and I finished your Christmas present!  I'll be having Belial-sweetie send it over to you, mmkay?  Mommy really misses you!  Call back soon!  "
  
  There's a loud groan from the Dark Lord, as she rolls over and tosses the pillow over the phone, which shuts with a 'bomf' noise.  " Mm... peace and quiet at last-- "
  
  And then...   teleport  !!
conversations: Merilan:
conversations: human
conversations:  Caroline stares up at the ceiling of her spartan apartment from bed, pondering when it would be appropriate to get up. She rolls her head to stare at the blaring red digits of the alarm clock beside the bed.
  
   "Close enough " She mutters to herself, jumping out of bed. It was unlikely that her superiors actually were monitoring how much sleep she was getting like they promised, and she really wanted to get on her with morning, her shower beckoning.
  
  After an extended stay in the Bathroom she saunters over to her closet, pondering the multitude of similar black outfits staring back at her from within.
  
  " So much choice " Caroline sighs. She knew they had some theory about black allowing her to meld into crowds better, but some choice would be fantastic. Deciding on her usual outfit, not that their was much to choose from, she walks the 15 steps it takes to get from her bedroom to the front door, looking at the clock on her way out.
  
   "More then enough time to take the long way to the academy and still make it on time."  She confirms to herself, stepping out the door.
conversations: blondebandit:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Well, the Transmission looks fine"   Clover said, brushing her hands against a spare rag  trying to clean off the acculated oil and grime.  "And I already gave the engine block a once over. The Spark-plugs are a little corroded, but otherwise fine, and the wiper-fluid is low. Nothing that would explain the rattling noise you've been getting"  The information was directed at Miss. Clairmont, an elderly woman who Clover would sometimes call upon to babysit June. The Septuagenarian had brought in her old VW, claiming that something was ratteling around and causing a fit whenever she drove more than a few miles at a stretch. On this particular day, Clover had intended to try and catch up on her finances, but she felt like she owed Clairmont a favor, and was more than willing to sideline her own plans to lend a hand.  "I've got one or two other idea's as to what the issue could be, but I'd need to have some time to work on her with my toolkit. Might take an hour or two...and I'd have to bring it down to the shop. Actually, hold on...there's one more thing I can think off. Just wait here a minute, I need to run upstairs" 
  
  Unfortunately for Miss. Clairmont, she'd be waiting for more than just a few minutes for Clover to return...
conversations: NineOfSpades: