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WHO: imPorts who show an inTerest
WHERE: Heropa Convention Center
WHEN: August 30th
WHAT: America's ~~Next~~ Top ImPort and other secrets are revealed
WARNINGS: Superhero violence probably

Hold on, didn't this month's swear-in already happen? It sure did, but the media swarming the steps of the Heropa Convention Center is even more vast and frenzied than a couple weeks ago. After all, swear-ins happen every month, but at least until next year, there's only going to be one

AMERICA'S ~~NEXT~~

top imPort..!!

The actual presentation will take place in a large ballroom with a raised stage on top. Upon the stage is a podium, an electric Edison vehicle (complete with life-sized, autographed cardboard cutout of Melon Husk in the passenger seat) and a large novelty check for one million dollars(!!!) Who will win these fabulous prizes, which also include the difficult-to-physically present all-expenses paid trip and national platform for a personal charity or cause? Let's find out!

...after a few lengthy speeches. After a slight delay (all the better to drive up anticipation!) Melon Husk takes the stage to deliver some remarks on imPorts: what they mean to today's America, how they have affected culture, and how their vast breadth of backgrounds and experiences has inspired the geniuses of tomorrow, ahem. With this segue, he talks up award coalition head and Rainforest Inc. CEO Beff Jezos in his introduction, getting the applause started himself as he steps back from the podium.

Beff himself gives Melon a brief nod as he offers his own prepared remarks, which center largely around sincere gratitude for the ImPorts and all they do and his hope that they'll continue to play a big part in the future. As his speech comes to a close, he pulls out a thick envelope and tears it open. It's time.

"The view from the top is great. I should know," Beff says. "And now let me introduce you to America's Top ImPort....Joseph Kavinsky!"

The crowd goes wild! Confetti falls from the ceiling as the winner is ushered to the stage to deliver a few remarks of their own. Hope you prepared some remarks, hero!

The next hour or so of the awards ceremony is similar to the party portion of a swear in — free food, drinks and the adulation of attendees who managed to gain admittance. The winning imPort as well as others in attendance can expect to be near-constantly pulled aside by news outlets for brief interviews regarding their thoughts on the award, their heroic career, and the latest hot goss (do you think the winner deserves this illustrious honor? Should YOU have won? Spill!)

But the show isn't over. Without fanfare, Beff re-takes the stage, tapping the microphone to get everyone's attention before immediately launching into another impromptu speech. He thanks attendees for coming; thanks award sponsors for contributing; and thanks imPorts themselves.

"Sincerely, I thank you," he says. "Because now I'll get to go home."

There's a brief whirring sounds before the convention center erupts into chaos as all robot doubles that haven't been destroyed (as well as some semi-horrifying, half-completed new ones) burst through the skylights. Looking more determined than ever, they attack both imPorts and locals without discrimination. In the tumult, Beff seems to disappear.

Heroes on site (as well as those who hurry to the convention center after panicked alerts go out) have quite a crisis on their hands. The robot doubles are numerous and aggressive, and similarly to the themed criminals that have recently plagued imPort cities, they seem to exploit the weaknesses of known imPort abilities — although with varying degrees of success. Despite this, when they gain the advantage in the fight, they seem to start pulling their punches. It's as though they want imPorts to use their powers more than they want to win.

Despite the superior numbers, imPorts have begun to turn to the tide when a large mecha crashes through the wall. Over a story tall, apparently partly constructed from Edison cars and piloted by Beff Jezos in a semi-transparent cockpit, it quickly begins to make a real melee mess of things. While the mecha is equipped with a few medium-damage lasers atop its shoulders, it's mainly focused on smashing the absolute crap of everything around it — and it's good at what he does, thanks to its heavily reinforced armor. It'll take some work to take this behemoth down.

[OOC: It's a team effort, but want to be the one to make the final blow? Click HERE! We will RNG in approximately 24 hours.]

The convention center is the last place anyone would expect a mighty battle to take place, but eventually, Beff's mecha falls and he's dragged out of the cockpit looking somewhat worse for wear. "You think you've won," he hisses through a fat lip. "But it's too late. I don't belong here, and everything you've done today — you're sending me home!"

What on Earth..? Before any heroes can interrogate him, Beff is whisked away by the Heropa police. Congrats, heroes, you've won the day again! Er, maybe sift through the rubble to see if any free drinks are still available?

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It can, indeed, do better than that. Upon assessing the damage to the head region, it upgrades Ysanne's potential threat level and activates additional systems. The blade sparks and hums with electricity, and the hand poised behind the machine for balance prepares the flamethrower built into in its palm. The pilot light is at the ready.

With a menacing hum, it whirls and renews the attack, coming at Ysanne with an upward arc, followed by a jet of flame.

She laughs, shaking her head.

"Oh, of course, you have more toys, just like the other one."

It's harder to dodge, a ranged attack preceded by a melee one - she wonders, idly, how this was designed to counter Yenh - but then again, most things have little enough defense against fire, certainly enough of it. She dances back from the sword stroke, and then rushes forward past the flames, feeling some licking at her arms. What the machine doesn't know about her will hurt it.

She grabs hold of the rapier as it reaches its apex, and calls up her power - drawing in the energy from it, sighing as the potency flows into her.

"Mm. You've got a lot of juice in you. I wonder if I can absorb all of it?" Her foot also lashes out, to try to disable that flamethrower.

The hand, when struck, breaks apart too easily. Its forearm promptly spews flame wildly into the surrounding area, at the risk of setting anyone and anything nearby on fire. While still spewing currents, it jabs the messy stump toward Ysanne for a flaming jab to the gut.

The robot can also hit really hard.

There is a roar from her as it makes contact, the impact hurting considerably. She is, after all, certainly not immune to that. And there is just so much flame, she can't feel it right and the entire process slips from her fingers.

And then it all just plain explodes, with Ysanne unable to absorb and safely dissipate all that energy at once. An observer will see her form rocketing back into a bar setting, catching that alight and it detonating in another shower of flames.

The robot is also thrown back by the shockwave, sending decor and standing tables flying in its wake. Though made out of flame resistant materials, it is not built to be blast resistant. There is damage to the chassis. It notes some systems and phases of combat are compromised... but not enough. It recovers its footing.

The flame jets are cut, systems rerouting to the next phase of attack. It remains where it stands, pointing its damaged arm as though to spray more flame. Instead, the remaining warped forearm blasts forward as a short-range missile. Between the change to aerodynamics and minor lens damage compromising aim, there's a high likelihood of missing. But it does not hesitate.

It doesn't need to. Because just as she's picking herself up, the flaming remnant of the arm impacts the now damaged wall - and sets of the gas line behind it.

"Oh for..."

And everything around her explodes.

The explosion gets Yenh's—the real Yenh's—attention. She kicks down the half-built robot advancing on her and stabs it through the chest, eyes already scanning the scene. She sees her robot-self. It's desaturated and worse for the wear, but very recognizably Yenh. It is gazing at the source of the explosion, evaluating further action or retreat.

Yenh's eye follows its gaze. She can't tell anything specific from this distance, but she's quick to deduce it was attacking someone. She bristles, murderous intent filling her to the brim. She will not have anyone getting hurt by something that not only looks like her, but is meant for her.

"You!" she roars over the melee, picking her way around the debris and chaos of combat. It's slow going, when trying to avoid getting clobbered or worse by other fighters and robots, but the point is to get its attention.

Her mechanical doppelganger turns its head toward her. The rest of its body then follows.

Edited 2020-09-01 03:38 (UTC)

A tactical error. The first rule of anything regarding Ysanne Isard is to be very sure she's dead, and then make sure it's her body. Granted, what starts to rise amidst flames and smoke may not be obviously her, not at first. And her rise is heralded by her initial length of rebar hurtling like a spear at the robot double, as another, slightly bent, example is torn from the wall - this one with a wedge of concrete attached to one end.

"Not...finished. Not finished. No, not at all, Metal thing!"

From the flames, she emerges. Most of her clothing is burned away, shreds rising from her like wisps, most still smoldering orange at their edges. Her body is covered in a thick layer of soot and ash, but she's still smiling. It was, however, worse than that - it was a grin, one entirely uncontained by the bounds of reason. The eyes confirmed it further - wispy tendrils of energy evaporated from them, trailing blue from one, red from the other. The makeshift club dragged behind her, and arcs of energy leapt from her from moment to moment, like an downed but active power line.

She had absorbed everything she needed. And then far too much more. Trapped inside her form, that came with a cost, overwhelming her control, sparking something alien and wild. Step by step she advanced, a malevolent vision from darker times.

The smile came again, a flash of white amid black and grey, and her words are directed at the robot copy, though there is little tether between those facts and reality. "Cast me aside, like a toy? Oh no, no that will never do. Mustn't show weakness, weakness is death. I am not, will not be. Not dead, never dead, cannot die, too much to do. Too much, oh no, beast of burden I. Beast and monster, they say. Today, right. So...very...right.."

The rambling comes to an end as that club is swung round with all her enhanced strength, aiming to smash through the sword arm, shatter it, break it like glass - and then to get her hands onto the thing's head - and then to pour all the energy out through her hands directly into eye sockets.

And the entire time, she screams.

Edited 2020-09-01 20:37 (UTC)

Yenh's jaw drops as she recognizes Ysanne emerging from the ruins of that bar and wall. She whispers Ysanne's name under her breath and redoubles her pace for a few steps. Every instinct and blessing in her body screams for her to stop. She obeys and halts.

The rebar glances off the robot. Its attention has returned to Ysanne. Battle stance is re-engaged. Its programming holds it back, only waiting for her approach. It raises its arm to prepare a downward slash. Then the arm is gone. It overbalances before it can recover, falling easily into Ysanne's hands.

The machine is filled with enough energy to melt the delicate parts and to overrun the rest. It crackles with energy and sets off the compressed gasses and other systems in a chain reaction. The machine, somehow, does not have a catastrophic failure, instead choosing to shatter and melt apart. A few pieces of debris fling a through the air.

Yenh grimaces. It hurt to watch Ysanne's pain writ large. It was somehow far worse than it being played out against a robot version of herself. That added an emotional spice she couldn't place, and would deal with later. Or not.

Against her better judgment and considering what she witnessed, she continues forward. Along the way, she dissipates her sword and snatches up a tablecloth that hasn't caught fully on fire. Her whole body is on high alert, ready to dodge back if Ysanne is ready to try it against the real thing.

She just can't walk away without trying.

Steam pours off her form now, swaying slightly. Her face turns towards Yenh as she stumbles a bit sideways, propping herself up on the leg of an overturned table.

"Oh, hello, beautiful," she said, eyes looking at Yenh, and through her, and speaking in a far-off-dreamy voice. "I was just buying things for our trip. I think you'll be happily surprised."

She sagged to her knees.

"Oh," she said, a few seconds later, as if recognizing that fact. "This isn't the right store at all." And she fell back.

Yenh bites her lip, searching for a response. Then it becomes clear that more than Ysanne's mind is giving out, and Yenh abandons it in favor of sliding on her knees to catch Ysanne before she hits the floor. Perhaps absurd given what Ysanne managed to survive, but that isn't the point.

"It's alright," Yenh breathes out a sigh of relief as she drapes Ysanne with the tablecloth. Once she's satisfied that she's covered up and a little warmer than without, Yenh cradles her close, guiding her head to rest against her shoulder. Regardless of Ysanne's state of consciousness, she answers both her previous comment and what it was Yenh just watched. "You did wonderfully. I'm in awe."

She makes a quiet noise, seeming to relax.

"Hah, good. D'you know, never got to try for pretty? Always uniforms. Only for you, first time. S'why I got that dress at the opera." Her voice sounded rather pleased with herself, and with fondness around the edges.

"Going to keep surprising you," she adds, dreamily. Then, as a hand reaches up to try to stroke Yenh's cheek, a coughing fit racks her body.

"I'm certain you will," Yenh says, smiling and grasping her hand to hold it against her cheek. This is reminding her of too many far darker scenes. It's only the impermanence of imPort death keeping her afloat, but heartbeat feels like it's several feet away. It occurs to her she could try a healing spell. Ysanne had liked how it felt.

"After all, before the opera, I'd thought you already accomplished pretty. Simply by virtue of being," Yenh murmurs as the hand embracing her begins channeling warm healing energy. Healing spells are her weakest area of magic, regardless of what world she happens to be on. That has never stopped her from trying.

Her whole body seems to shiver at it, as the energy gets inside and does the important thing - purge the smoke and ash from her lungs. There is a gasp as air begins to flow more freely. Otherwise, she is remarkably untouched by it - the sudden shifts of energy in her brain aside.

"You're sweet," she said, quietly, fading into unconsciousness. "I'm so glad...you bothered."

The clearing of her airways is a relief, even if little else about the situation is. Yenh presses a kiss to Ysanne's forehead, lips lingering despite the overwhelming smell of smoke and the taste of soot.

She carefully folds Ysanne's arm into a resting position. Her head lifts to scan the chaos for any sign of Ysanne's bodyguards. Or, frankly, anyone better suited for her care at this point.

"I need medical help over here," she calls out.

By this point, some of her stormtroopers have arrived. Two of them are keeping a door open, helping a few walking wounded through. Exactly as Ysanne told them to do. One of them glances over at Yenh, tapping the other on the shoulder. The second nods, and once the last of the wounded are through, they work their way over, weapons scanning for any more robots.

Once they reach Yenh, the voice of the first trooper comes through in their electronic voice, tapping the side of his head to activate a comlink.

"Found the Director, she's unconscious. Commencing evac." They step over, one moving to each end of her. "We'll take it from here, Ma'am," they say to Yenh. They haven't even a clue who she is.

"Are you mobile? You can follow us out - we're evacuating wounded and civilians out the South entrance."

Before surrendering the task to the stormtroopers, she takes extra time to make sure the tablecloth is draped correctly. It's no problem with her that they don't know who she is, though it come as a surprise. She assumed herself on Ysanne's enemy list, or at least some kind of 'do not allow onto the property without an appointment and a pat-down' list.

Satisfied, she pushes herself to her feet. The world around her rushes back in. The sounds and smells of battle renew her strength in the same demented way it always does. She exhales and looks at the two stormtroopers in turn, back straightening tall.

"I'm returning to the fight," she says, gesturing at the ongoing battle with a jerk of a thumb. "It may go without saying, but please take care of her. She fought a powerful foe with unflinching courage, and won."

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