07-29-2017, 08:07 PM
***
Luci and Jacket sit across from Dr Doom separated by a long steel workbench. All three primes are masked up.
Dr Doom stares coldly through the slitted eyes in his iron mask. The Prime brimmed with the cold confidence of a despot.
Jacket, in his rooster head war mask, is visibly defiant. His arms are crossed over his glorious jacket, and he is leaning back in his seat, staring at the ceiling.
Luci though, a black paisley bandanna covering everything below her nose, is leaning forward to meet Dr Dooms gaze. Her eyes fluctuate wildly as she tries to penetrate Dr Dooms mind, but his innermost thoughts are like his mask, iron and impenetrable.
“Dr Doom, an honor to finally meet you. I’ve heard great things,” Luci says neutrally through her bandanna. This is somewhat true; through her web of spies and criminals she has gleaned much and more information about the mysterious iron-masked prime.
Dr Doom inclines his head ever so slightly, but his posture shows impatience. Jacket puts his feet on the table.
“I understand you’re building an army,” Luci continues.
“What I am building,” spits Doom. “Is none of your concern.”
Luci shakes her head. “It IS my concern, in so far as my leal lord will be creating your army.”
Dr Doom pauses. “Your-leal lord?”
Chripa smiles as Luci nods. “President Chirpa of the Westside Ewoks,” she says. Dr Doom looks to interrupt, but Luci keeps speaking. “And I am Luci, President of the Westside Knife Ear Warriors and First Speaker of the Westside Council. My companion is Jacket, First Knight of the Westside. You are are deep within the heart of westside Tier-5 Coruscant. In short, Dr Doom, this is my Kingdom. My Latveria.”
Dr Doom does not move, but sits silently, watching Luci closely.
“So,” she continues. “When one of your droids blows away a squadron of Stormtroopers, it’s my concern. When my enemies get their hands on your weapons and use them to kill my people, it’s my concern. When you threaten my allies, it’s my concern. When you build an army in my kingdom, it’s my concern. I know you are building an army, that wasn’t a question. A question sounds like this; what are you going to do with your army?”
There is a long moment of silence and stillness, punctuated only Jacket tabbing his foot on the table as he gazes at the ceiling. Finally, Doom speaks.
“I could kill you all right here and now, and it would be like an invisible hiccup on my rise to ultimate power,” the supervillain says calmly.
Jacket removes his feet from the table and looks like he’s about to rise, but Luci puts a hand on his shoulder, and he sits. His attention, at least, is now on Doom.
“You could kill us all here and now,” agrees Luci. “But you will never get your army.”
Dr Doom might have smiled behind his iron mask.
“Well then, oh noble president,” he mocks. “I plan to use my army to create the greatest utopia this universe has ever known. Perhaps you will be MY leal lord, of Westside Latveria, and pay your fealty to me. For now, it is not required. All that it is required is my army.”
Luci nods. “Well if you want a robot army, you’ll needs some of these,” the gangster says.
Luci withdraws a glowing blue orb from her backpack, about the size of a baseball, buzzing with energy and spitting tiny blue sparks.
“This,” says Luci, as she plays with the orb, running it over the back of her knuckles expertly. “Is a Crackler. We don’t fully understand them, but we know they are dangerous. They are batteries which can be used to create weapons of staggering power. We know they originate from outside Coruscant. We know the Empire has been selling them to our enemies. And we know that our enemies are using them to kill us.”
Doom nods, his eyes following the Crackler as Luci spins it on her finger. “Then it would seem,” the villain says. “That this raid would be mutually beneficial.”
“That’s right,” Luci says, letting the Crackler spin on the table. She pulls out two cigarettes and leans forward, lighting them from the Crackler’s sparks. She hands one to Jacket. “And we’ll split the take, fifty-fifty.”
Doom croaks out a laugh. “Eighty-twenty, and you can keep one of my Doombots for your wars.”
“Fifty-fifty,” Luci insists. “And we keep three Doombots, if we’re making them. Or you could just go find the OTHER most infamous criminals in Coruscant.”
Dr Doom glowers. “Sixty-forty and three Doombots.”
Beneath her bandanna, Luci smiles.
***
The mission is fairly straightforward.
There is an Imperial military base on the far side of Tier-6. Within that base, protected by a complex laser defense system, is an Imperial Armory. Within that Imperial Armory is a vault containing, among other things, nearly one hundred brand spankin new Cracklers.
The trio would enter Tier-6 in disguise and sneak past the Orc Mafia and the Empire onto the Imperial Military Base. Then, Jacket and Dr Doom would fight their way into the Imperial Armory until they reach the Control Room. Once there, Dr Doom would disable the Generator, and take down the laser defense system. At that point Luci will phase into the Armory, grab the grab the Cracklers, escape with Jacket and Dr Doom, and walk back into Tier-5 with new disguises and conquer the universe.
Nothing could possibly go wrong.
***
The three Primes are riding in a battered oldsmobile down a clear suburban street in Tier-5.
Luci is in disguise as a young redhead girl with black lacy clothes and several face piercings. Her forged Imperial Identification card lists her as Belladonna Slaughterkiss, Vampire.
She turns to jacket, in disguise as an even more heavily pierced young man with long black hair and weedy eyes. His Identification card lists him as Barron Shadowblood, Vampire. He gazes back at her with the ratty little eyes of the disguise.
“I don’t trust this guy,” Jacket says, not quietly. Dr Doom, in disguise as Ivan the Insidious, Vampire, is sitting in the backseat, his hand on his chin and his eyes out the window, completely unconcerned.
Luci shrugs. “I don’t think he trust us either, baby,” Luci replies, smiling at him.
The Oldsmobile pulls up to the Tier-6 entry point with a clanking sounds. A stormtroopersshines a light into the car and into Luci’s eyes.
“Cards?” he says through his helmet, and the trio each produce their newly forged ID cards. After a few tense swipes, the cards are cleared. The Stormtrooper nods to his coworker, and the gate to Tier-6 is raised. “What are you kids doin’ down there tonight?” he asks conversationally.
Luci grins, showing pointed white fangs. “Getting something to eat.”
The Stormtrooper chuckles.
Above them all, spraypainted on the side of a building, a graffiti outline of a grinning imp watches carefully.
***
Luci and Jacket sit across from Dr Doom separated by a long steel workbench. All three primes are masked up.
Dr Doom stares coldly through the slitted eyes in his iron mask. The Prime brimmed with the cold confidence of a despot.
Jacket, in his rooster head war mask, is visibly defiant. His arms are crossed over his glorious jacket, and he is leaning back in his seat, staring at the ceiling.
Luci though, a black paisley bandanna covering everything below her nose, is leaning forward to meet Dr Dooms gaze. Her eyes fluctuate wildly as she tries to penetrate Dr Dooms mind, but his innermost thoughts are like his mask, iron and impenetrable.
“Dr Doom, an honor to finally meet you. I’ve heard great things,” Luci says neutrally through her bandanna. This is somewhat true; through her web of spies and criminals she has gleaned much and more information about the mysterious iron-masked prime.
Dr Doom inclines his head ever so slightly, but his posture shows impatience. Jacket puts his feet on the table.
“I understand you’re building an army,” Luci continues.
“What I am building,” spits Doom. “Is none of your concern.”
Luci shakes her head. “It IS my concern, in so far as my leal lord will be creating your army.”
Dr Doom pauses. “Your-leal lord?”
Chripa smiles as Luci nods. “President Chirpa of the Westside Ewoks,” she says. Dr Doom looks to interrupt, but Luci keeps speaking. “And I am Luci, President of the Westside Knife Ear Warriors and First Speaker of the Westside Council. My companion is Jacket, First Knight of the Westside. You are are deep within the heart of westside Tier-5 Coruscant. In short, Dr Doom, this is my Kingdom. My Latveria.”
Dr Doom does not move, but sits silently, watching Luci closely.
“So,” she continues. “When one of your droids blows away a squadron of Stormtroopers, it’s my concern. When my enemies get their hands on your weapons and use them to kill my people, it’s my concern. When you threaten my allies, it’s my concern. When you build an army in my kingdom, it’s my concern. I know you are building an army, that wasn’t a question. A question sounds like this; what are you going to do with your army?”
There is a long moment of silence and stillness, punctuated only Jacket tabbing his foot on the table as he gazes at the ceiling. Finally, Doom speaks.
“I could kill you all right here and now, and it would be like an invisible hiccup on my rise to ultimate power,” the supervillain says calmly.
Jacket removes his feet from the table and looks like he’s about to rise, but Luci puts a hand on his shoulder, and he sits. His attention, at least, is now on Doom.
“You could kill us all here and now,” agrees Luci. “But you will never get your army.”
Dr Doom might have smiled behind his iron mask.
“Well then, oh noble president,” he mocks. “I plan to use my army to create the greatest utopia this universe has ever known. Perhaps you will be MY leal lord, of Westside Latveria, and pay your fealty to me. For now, it is not required. All that it is required is my army.”
Luci nods. “Well if you want a robot army, you’ll needs some of these,” the gangster says.
Luci withdraws a glowing blue orb from her backpack, about the size of a baseball, buzzing with energy and spitting tiny blue sparks.
“This,” says Luci, as she plays with the orb, running it over the back of her knuckles expertly. “Is a Crackler. We don’t fully understand them, but we know they are dangerous. They are batteries which can be used to create weapons of staggering power. We know they originate from outside Coruscant. We know the Empire has been selling them to our enemies. And we know that our enemies are using them to kill us.”
Doom nods, his eyes following the Crackler as Luci spins it on her finger. “Then it would seem,” the villain says. “That this raid would be mutually beneficial.”
“That’s right,” Luci says, letting the Crackler spin on the table. She pulls out two cigarettes and leans forward, lighting them from the Crackler’s sparks. She hands one to Jacket. “And we’ll split the take, fifty-fifty.”
Doom croaks out a laugh. “Eighty-twenty, and you can keep one of my Doombots for your wars.”
“Fifty-fifty,” Luci insists. “And we keep three Doombots, if we’re making them. Or you could just go find the OTHER most infamous criminals in Coruscant.”
Dr Doom glowers. “Sixty-forty and three Doombots.”
Beneath her bandanna, Luci smiles.
***
The mission is fairly straightforward.
There is an Imperial military base on the far side of Tier-6. Within that base, protected by a complex laser defense system, is an Imperial Armory. Within that Imperial Armory is a vault containing, among other things, nearly one hundred brand spankin new Cracklers.
The trio would enter Tier-6 in disguise and sneak past the Orc Mafia and the Empire onto the Imperial Military Base. Then, Jacket and Dr Doom would fight their way into the Imperial Armory until they reach the Control Room. Once there, Dr Doom would disable the Generator, and take down the laser defense system. At that point Luci will phase into the Armory, grab the grab the Cracklers, escape with Jacket and Dr Doom, and walk back into Tier-5 with new disguises and conquer the universe.
Nothing could possibly go wrong.
***
The three Primes are riding in a battered oldsmobile down a clear suburban street in Tier-5.
Luci is in disguise as a young redhead girl with black lacy clothes and several face piercings. Her forged Imperial Identification card lists her as Belladonna Slaughterkiss, Vampire.
She turns to jacket, in disguise as an even more heavily pierced young man with long black hair and weedy eyes. His Identification card lists him as Barron Shadowblood, Vampire. He gazes back at her with the ratty little eyes of the disguise.
“I don’t trust this guy,” Jacket says, not quietly. Dr Doom, in disguise as Ivan the Insidious, Vampire, is sitting in the backseat, his hand on his chin and his eyes out the window, completely unconcerned.
Luci shrugs. “I don’t think he trust us either, baby,” Luci replies, smiling at him.
The Oldsmobile pulls up to the Tier-6 entry point with a clanking sounds. A stormtroopersshines a light into the car and into Luci’s eyes.
“Cards?” he says through his helmet, and the trio each produce their newly forged ID cards. After a few tense swipes, the cards are cleared. The Stormtrooper nods to his coworker, and the gate to Tier-6 is raised. “What are you kids doin’ down there tonight?” he asks conversationally.
Luci grins, showing pointed white fangs. “Getting something to eat.”
The Stormtrooper chuckles.
Above them all, spraypainted on the side of a building, a graffiti outline of a grinning imp watches carefully.
***
![[Image: V4Dvvfy.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/V4Dvvfy.gif)