The Create-A-Hero RPG Season III IC Thread!

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OOC: Previously...

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Lost Haven
Bronze District
The Carnival Fair


This cannot be possible. But I'm staring him dead in the eyes.

Staring at myself.

No. It's not myself. It's this villain. This...walking nightmare.

"Haha, and I thought I had issues. Afraid of yourself, Archangel? This is going to be sweet."

He comes flying at me, hooks me right across the jaw he can fly as fast as I can. I'm wailing through the sky, regaining my bearrings as my own angel-fire wings stop me in midair; he is as strong as me now too. Already on the move, continuiing his attack he tries to tackle me but I manage to clasp my hands together and mash down on his backside as he almost makes impact. As he recovers from my blow, he looks up at me, and I see my own twisted reflection smiling back at me a way I never smile.

A most devious smile.

So, with leering into the very core of my mind and accessing my fears he can manifest himself into that fear. That explains how he took the form of that creature I know was from that TMNT movie that came out a few years ago: must've been the fear of some unfortunate little kid. Although, while he can have my speed and my strength when in my form, I doubt he has the entire package. Already I see no unlit hilt resting on his waist. After all, my angel-fire sword is a gift from the Divine high above. And since my elemental powers are also of God's Graces, I doubt he could mimick such talents as well.

"I do not just...see what you fear the most, Archangel. I can also...understand why. I know why. Such a tragic life you have led ever since all of this started out for you. Some boy by the name of...Jake lingers in your head. Your first true failure. But that is not all that lingers..."

He cannot tell, but the very ground around him is silently and slowly cracking as I ready my next attack. Got to take him by surprise because I know that if it were me--which he pretty much is right now--my angel-fire wings could propell me off the ground fast enough to evade such an attack.

"You almost took a life. Drunk with rage and grief I see you about to incenerate some sort of intergalactic alien military general. That was the first time you truly began to fear what you are capable of. There is...there is a hole in your heart. The older sister to this...Jake. Grace, is it? Ah, yes. Oh and she is lovely. I can...when I close my eyes I can see it almost as if I was there. You are sitting in your apartment, waiting for the phone to ring but...it doesn't. She doesn't want to talk to you. Not after what you've done. After what you...hahaha...failed to do. Hmmm...and what is this? I see you...fighting your teammates. However, you are not really you now are you? Ah but I can see your internal struggle as you try to gain control. And that is why you fear yourself, isn't it...Michael."

And now for the distraction. The ground around me starts to crack and crumble as I lift chunks and debris of cement and rock all around me. I swirl it about, enhancing the effect that I'm about to strike.

"In all of those instances, you lost control of the situation. Lost control of...yourself. Fear of what the future might bring and what you will become."

"If I were you, boogy-man, I'd be thinking of what I'm about to do now; not later."

The rocks around me spin faster, and that is when I trigger my surprise attack. The ground beneath him rises, shooting him upward and he is unbalanced and distraught. I fly at him, launching the floating pieces of rock from around me like a cascade. My onslaught is relentless as I attack him. Ok, so maybe some of what he said did get to me.

He made me angry. He won't like me when I'm...whoops, potential copyright issues, right? Pissed off. He won't like me when I'm pissed off.

One clean knee in the abdomen does the trick, and I throw him into the nearest carnival tent I can find. Need to keep the edge of surprise on him. My luck is that I threw him into a fun house.

More importantly though, I think I know which Sin I'm dealing with.
 
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Cerberus
Revelations


The envelope in my hand shakes a bit as my nervous hand goes to open it. It's marked Lost Haven University on the front, and the only thing it can possibly be is the college's decision on me. I've been going to summer classes at the community college just for this moment, and now that it's here I'm not sure I want to know what's inside.

Before I started my hero training, I never thought I would have needed community college to get into the University, but as my nights got longer, my grades got lower, and it was my only option. But it has been beneficial, especially in helping me to learn how to balance my double life.

Mom sits on the couch across from me, wringing her hands in anticipation. Sometimes I think she wants me to move out of the house more than I do. Next to her, Sirius, the dog from ancient Greece that I resurrected in order to defend her sits, his tail happily wagging.

I rip the envelope open and pull the contents out quickly and begin reading, my face lighting up almost instantly. I half whisper, "I got in."

"You did!" Mom exclaims happily. "Desmond I'm so proud of you!"

She hugs me and Sirius jumps up and licks my face happily. But before I can respond to either of them, a communicator with a direct line to Chiron buzzes in my pocket, and I answer, "Hello?"

"Desmond, I need you to get to the Eye quickly. We've received a tip about Xerxes," the voice of my mentor says on the other end.

"I'm on my way."
 
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Lost Haven
Bronze District
The Carnival Fair


Faith.

When Father Damian was talking about one of the Seven Deadly Sins of man, he mentioned what one of the guided souls would likely try to do should they be guided by a certain Sin. One of them, had to do with Faith. Father Damian claimed that one of the people led to me by The Seven would likely be a 'tortured soul' who has 'such a lack of faith'.

This entire time, I've been looking at it wrong. I naturally assumed that when he mentioned Faith, that it directly meant with God. Don't get me wrong, it does tie into that--as all things eventually tie in with God--but not directly. Next, Father Damian also mentioned that he would try to bring me down to his level and that I too would start to feel a lack of Faith. What I realize now is that this idea of Faith is not with God but with myself. And this...nightmare of a villain is trying to make me lose faith in myself by clawing at my inner most fear and having me face it.

He wants me to crumble, just like he must've crumbled earlier in his life just before he finally lost faith in himself and in the end lost faith in God. I know how to beat him.

And, oh, he is going to pay for trying to mess with my fears and failures.

Dearly.

I turn off the lights.

Get up you fool! Do you now see what I was talking about? You keep fooling around when you should be hanging his head up on a wall by now!

GET UP AND DESTROY THE ARCHANGEL!


"Ugh...yes...Barbas."

He calls out a name...Barbas? So that is the being he is sharing his mind with or something. Still cannot tell the nature of their bond. But that name doesn't ring a bell. That isn't one of the members of The Seven. Knowing what Sin I'm dealing with, the demon responsible for this blind-date would be Belphegor. Guess he decided to get creative and have this tortured soul become...possessed or something of the sort.

I move in the darkness of the fun house. I make certain noises so that my presence is known in certain areas. Gotta keep this guy away from finding the light switch. Oh, I will be turning them on soon enough, but only when the set-up is right.

Time to taunt the baddie a bit. See how he likes it.

"Something...wrong, boogy-man? Have I...have I silenced the great big boogy-man?"

"It's...it's NIGHTMARE!!"

"Nightmare? Ohh, see, I couldn't see that because right now you look like a scared dog with his tail between his legs."


"Shut...UP!!"

Glass shatters as he takes violent and wild swings, aiming at a nothingness for I keep my distance well. He's just about in the right position. Just need to get him to wander over here a bit.

"Time to turn the tides on your little game here, Nightmare. You had the upper hand when you were the hunter and I the prey but I finally know what I'm up against. So, what was it? Daddy didn't show you enough love when you were a kid? You mentioned paying him a visit after you are done with me. Did Daddy...spank you too much?"

"Shut up! I will...TARE YOU APART!!"

Another glass shatters, and I finally land silently on the ground. My fingers resting on the light switch, I smile as this punk is about to get a taste of his own medicine.

"Have you wondered what you've been hitting at this entire time?"

I flip the switch on and all the lights in the fun house turn on. Nightmare is surrounded by a corridor of windows. Nothing to look at but...himself.

"We landed in a house of mirrors, boogy-man."


"No..."


"So now you tell me, Nightmare. What do you fear the most?!?"


Close your eyes, Samuel. Close your--NOO!!


"AAAAHHH!!"

I knew this plan was going to work. Turn the lights off long enough when you turn them back on, don't you sort of stand there and stare at your surroundings to make sure you are where you think you are? Poor Nightmare here is surrounded by mirrors and cannot help but stare deep to regain his barrings.

DAMN YOU SAMUEL! I TOLD YOU!! I TOLD YOU TO--

"AARRGGGH!!! NOOO!!!"

I levitate above him, witnessing the transformation that is in the process. He starts to change shape again, but a more human form. An...older form. Of an older man.

A form I can only assume is of his father.

The big bad boogy-man villain known as Nightmare, is positioned in the fetal position, crying for mommy and daddy.

Deadly sin known as Sloth? Consider yourself defeated. You tried to attack me by submitting me to my worst fears, therein believing I would completely lose faith in myself. I would have been left broke and vulnerable to utter destruction mentally and physically had I not figured it out. So I simply turned the game around.

I land, slowly walking over to the quivering figure that lies on the ground. It's not his fault...really. I gotta say it isn't the same as when I dealt with Sebastian Blake. Leech was a real vile creature. This poor soul...I don't think he ever had a true chance. Gonna put him temporarily out of his misery.

I kneel down, and give him a quick jab to the head. He goes unconscious, and reverts back to his masked and costumed form.

"Nighty night, Nightmare."
 
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Cerberus
Revelations


I hit the locker room of the Eye before meeting Chiron, and I start putting on my armor and costume while sending a quick text to Penny.

Got into LHU. See you in the fall!

"What do we have?" I ask Chiron and Nysus as I enter the command room of the Eye, placing my helmet on my head and making sure my gauntlets are secure. Chiron has a huge smile on his face, meaning he's found something good. Something real good.

"We've been scanning the usual outlets for any sign of Xerxes, and we think we've found something," he starts.

"Yea see, I helped," Nysus cuts in.

"You did," Chiron says, hitting a few keys on the command console and a map of Lost Haven flashes on the main screen. On it I can see one of the shorter skyscrapers in downtown Lost Haven highlighted. "From some intel we've recovered, we believe he's in the city at this location. It looks like you're right. He's slipped up and now it's your turn to strike."

I smile to myself and turn to head towards the roof of the Eye of the Fates, "You don't have to tell me twice."

Once I'm on the roof, I shadow meld and begin racing towards downtown Lost Haven, my heart pounding. I've never been more excited to be on patrol, and I can understand why. The opportunity to take down someone on the FBI's most wanted list is by far the biggest thing I've had the opportunity to do since becoming Cerberus, and this can help announce my presence to the world.

Within a few moments, I'm standing in an alleyway across the street from the downtown high rise. Only a few of the windows are illuminated from the inside, an odd sight to see downtown. Meaning Chiron's instincts and data mining are probably correct, and Xerxes is indeed in that building.

I go back into the shadows, and appear in the lobby, where three men brandishing swords stand at attention in front of the elevators. I smile as they begin approaching me slowly, "Come on...do you guys really expect to beat me?"

But they don't respond, instead, the send of swings, jabs, and parries towards me, forcing me into a quick defensive position with my sword, which is saying something. According to Chiron, I'm naturally adept at sword fighting because of my lineage, but these guys are good.

The four of us do some sort of dance of death, swords clanging against each other as each of us barely miss our targets. Eventually the lopsided fight gets the best of me, and one of them manage to strike through my defenses and hit one of my unarmored parts. The gash is small, but catches me off guard. I push my attackers back with a blast of fire from my hands.

"We expect to beat you," they all say in unison, which is the creepiest thing ever, by the way, "because we are the Immortals."

"Xerxes really takes his name seriously, doesn't he?" I say, as I toss more fire at them. They dive out of the way, but they've never seen fire like I've got before. It chase them as the swipe to put it out, and in a matter of moments I have them cornered by flames, which all of a sudden morph into a representation of my namesake, the hound Cerberus. It slams into them, the heat causing them to pass out as I command the flames to dissipate. "Sorry gents."

I search their unconscious forms and find a key card before heading for the elevators. I insert it and instantly it takes me towards the penthouse of the high rise. I feel my heart almost leap into my throat as I head higher and higher. The fact that I've gotten this close to someone that has never been close to capture is insane, and even though I shouldn't be nervous, I am.

But the nerves are instantly erased as I'm greeted by a hail of gunfire as the doors slide open. I instantly blend into the shadows of the darkened room and flow to the other side. As I make myself tangible again, I find that the bullets have come from motion sensing turrets in front of what I can only assume is Xerxes's massive desk. And on top of that I've been hit. Warm blood flows from my left arm, right above where the Immortal got me with the sword.

It's odd to feel the pain. It almost puts me into a trance. I've never been hurt by an opponent besides Chiron, and he was almost always holding back. I attempt to shake the thoughts from my head as I noticed an ajar door located behind a bookcase. Something screams in my mind that it's incredibly fishy, but I head through it anyway.

Complete darkness greets me on the other side as the door closes itself behind me. Before I can react at all, what seem like hundreds of floodlights blast on, bathing every inch of the room in white light. On top of that, a icy cold mist fills the air as I look around attempting to adjust to the harsh light. As I do so, a laugh as cold as the air echoes from somewhere in front of me in the bright blur. As my eyes come into focus, the imposing form of what I assume is Xerxes stands about twenty feet in front of me, with ten more Immortals in a circle around me. Xerxes stands about six-foot six if I had to guess, and is dressed in a dark red suit with a black shirt underneath. His bald head reflects a lot of the light coming from all around me, and as he speaks as powerful voice emanates from his powerful jaws, "Well, well hero. You are as cocky as I thought. You really thought this was going to be easy."

"For a couple minutes there, yea I thought it would be," I answer as I search for a way out of this predicament, not seeing anything, especially with no shadows to meld with.

"I must commend you though," he continues. "No one has ever made me sweat this much. You really did have me worried. But now you have the honor of being killed by me personally. Something I haven't had to do for almost a decade. Even my Immortals have not been used against a rival in many years. But they were eager to use their considerable skill yet again."

"Dude, you're monologuing, what an idiot!" I mock as I attempt to summon flames to take out the Immortals closest to me. Unfortunately all I manage to do is get a small burst that reminds me of a lighter running out of fluid. And then it dawns on me. the fluid is to stop me from casting fire. That was my last ditch effort, and now all I've got is my sword and natural abilities.

"Yes, only now are you realizing how foolish you are," the crime boss smiles. "I watched from my office as you stopped my men at that disaster of a bank robbery. I know how to stop you. And now you don't stand a chance."

With a snap of his fingers, his Immortals descend upon me. I act qucikly, and manage to lash out with my blade, catching two of them across the chest and drop them, but the huge mismatch is evident. They slash the sword from my hand, and once it's gone they begin pounding me with bare fists and feet. One rips my helmet off and tosses it away, and then drives his knee into my face. Even with my enhanced durability, the strike cracks my nose, and blood flows from the wound.

For I don't know how long more blows are landed on me than I can count, and I'm convinced more pain than my nervous system can keep up with. Fists, elbows, knees, and feet batter my body until I can barely kneel, let alone stand. And it's at this moment I hear a snap. I figure it's my neck or and arm, but as the Immortals back away i realize it's Xerxes calling him off. He's obviously seen enough and he's ready to finish me off.

Funny. I never thought I'd go like this. Taken down by some mob boss who I thought I'd already cornered into nothing. He doesn't even have powers. I figured this would be practice for the rest of my hero days. Not the end of a very short career.

He approaches and laughs, "Ah, well this is the end, Cerberus. I'm sorry to say. You have fought admirably. But when you are found tomorrow, it will look like a mugging gone wrong. No one will know of your bravery. No one will know of your heroics. And most of all, know one will have any clue I was involved."

But as he rears back his massive fist for his first strike, a voice echoes in my head, Call upon the Earth. Gaia will assist you. It is one of your gifts. Do as I say, my boy.

I don't know if it's instinct or someone sort of being controlling my body, but I can feel the ground beneath the skyscraper, all those floor below calling to me. And i don't hesitate. I scream with all my might as if it will repel my attacker by itself, and raise my arms. As I do so, the building shakes and rattles, and the floor next to me blows apart, as two chunks of earth rip through it, sending the Immortals tumbling through the holes.

As the rocks circle me in a defensive motion, I stand. The surge of energy and power that flows through me is something that I've never felt before, and I can't help but smile at Xerxes, not completely alone in the room with me, "You were saying?"

I toss the boulder at him, and it strikes him full on, sending him tumbling into one of the walls. I then hew the rocks and form them into binders that attach him and bind him to the wall.

"What the hell are you?" he asks, rage filling his face.

"Besides the man that will finally put you behind bars?" I smirk, as I feel the cold mist leaving the room through the holes in the floor. I fire some purple-black flames at him, surrounding him in a circle of flames shaped like three dog heads entwined, "I'm Cerberus, the Heir of the Underworld."

I turn to leave, and as I drop through the floor, shadowmeld into the darkness, and head back for the Eye. Once I'm there, Chiron catches me as I collapse from exhaustion as I become tangible, "My word, you look like hell, Desmond."

"I'll get the infirmary ready," Nysus says, the concern in his voice is honestly touching.

"Did he get away?" Chiron says as he palces me on a bed in the infirmary.

"No," I respond weakly. "I got him, Chiron. But he was ready for me. He know how to conteract my powers. But then...then I heard a voice in my head that told me to reach for the Earth."

"My word, you used geokinesis," Chiron smiles at me as he and Nysus tend to my wounds. "I never thought that would have manifested in you already."

"What do you mean?" I ask obviously confused.

"It's your final power," Chiron explains. "You can use the Earth as a weapon. But it usually doesn't manifest until your twnety-fifth year. It's astoudning."

"And the voice?"

"If I had to guess...that was your father," Chiron smiles. "But there will be plenty of time for questions. Now you must sleep."

Before I pass out, I flip open my phone and find a response from Penny.

Hey! That's great! Sorry for responding so late, but I was on a date! Tell you about it later!


I think that hurts more than anything from earlier.

**********

A hooded figure smiles as he surveys this new city. Called Lost Haven, he can see the name is fitting. The beautiful skyline shimmers in the night sky as the stars act as nightlights to the sleeping citizens.

But he was not here for the cities beauty. No, not at all. There were beings here that he would need to kill, would need to destroy. And if the power surge he had sensed not long ago was true, then who ever he would battle here was powerful indeed.

The gigantic man next to him snorts in disgust. He was never one for beauty or aesthetics, but he was a good companion, and useful for destroying those that are not worthy of their royal blood. They were better than the humans that populated this city, and they were better than those of their kind that protect them.

But that was all about to end in Lost Haven. Death had come to this city, and he wasn't leaving until his mission was complete.
 
I walk up a flight of stairs and duck under the crime scene tape leading into the apartment. Pierce is waiting for me just outside a doorway and leads me into a bathroom where CSI techs work around a body in a tub.

"Took a few days before his family called the cops, but they finally did. Apartment belongs to Joe Dante, age forty-four. The family is coming down for an ID, but I think this was him."

The body has begun to bloat and swell in the water. Even though he's been dead for several days, the body is bright red all over. Layers of flesh and skin has been burned away, revealing the muscle and bone underneath. "What happened to him?"

"The coroner won't confirm anything until there's an autopsy, but it looks like he died of sever burns."

I frown and look at the scene. "In water? Like he was boiled alive?"

"Yeah. That doesn't seem right to me for a whole lot of reasons. First off is the lack of defense wounds. No way someone isn't going to put up a fight if he's getting boiled alive. That's why I called you in. CSI has dusted the tub for prints, so do you think."

I nod and squat down at the edge of the tub. I try to look away from the dead and bloated body, looking down at my fingertips as I touch the tub and feel the vision come.

There are two words that could perfectly describe his face now: sheer terror. He tries to spring out of the tub but he is suddenly shoved back down and restrained by invisible arms. I concentrate on making the molecules in his bath water move faster and faster. Steam begins to billow out of the tub and Dante’s flesh begins to go from a pallid pink to a bright red.

He struggles with all his might to leave the tub, but I keep him held down with my powers and make the water molecules move faster and faster. A thick cloud of steam rises from the tub as the water begins bubbling and Dante lets out a horrific scream. A silence him by telekinetically forcing his jaw shut and increasing the heat until I smell his skin boil and watch layer after layer of flesh drip and peel off of his body, eventually revealing the bloody red muscle tissue underneath. I can’t help but laugh.

He lets out one last gurgle before going limp. I release him and his head slumps back against the pink-tiled wall. One of my followers looks like he’s about to vomit. He suddenly feels much better after I shoot him a look of disgust. We take our leave.

I break the connection from the tub and stumble back into the bathroom wall.

"You alright, Cayce?" Pierce asks as he pulls me up by my jacket. I nod and steady myself by leaning on the sink. I run the tap and splash cold water on my face. I look down into the sink drain as I talk.

"Whoever did this had powers."

"Like a superhero?"

"Yeah. They held Joe Dante in place with their mind and burned him alive. Whoever did it wasn't alone. I don't know what it means, but one word kept running through my mind as I watched him burn."

"What word?"

I look up at Pierce, water dripping from my face.

"Madlove."
 
Previously:
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[/FONT]Alex took a step back from the wreckage and the dead body of the alien warrior. In the distance he heard the heavy thudding of helicopter blades thumping through the deep night air. Further than that the thin wails of sirens crept across the countryside. Glancing at the helmet in his hands, he tucked it under his arm and turned and ran the way he had came.

Heart thundering in his chest, Alex dived into his car and without hesitation, dragged it onto the highway and in the opposite direction of the sirens. Leaving the headlamps off, he powered down the highway towards town, casting unsure looks at the alien artifact rolling around upon his passenger seat.

"What the hell am I going to do?" he asked no-one in particular. Pulling from the highway, he brought the car to a stop and took a long deep breath. Briefly he considered tossing the silver helmet into the scrub at the side of the road and driving away. Getting out of the car, he made his way around the vehicle and opened the door and picked up the helmet.

As he held it, warmth spread through his hands and up his arms, penetrating his chest. The words of Elix Gan-Shun leapt unbidden into his mind. "Don't let my people die here tonight. Keep the history of the Valar alive and honour it".

Alex sighed and rested against the side of the car. "Why me?" he asked. No answer came though and he was left with only the distant chirping of nearby crickets. "I'm nobody. I'm not important. I can't do this". His voice was heavy and he realised he was talking to the helmet itself. The dark eyes stared back at him accusingly and alex had to turn it away.

Tipping it upside down he found himself looking into the deeply padded interior. The silver of the metal shone even in the pale moonlight and Alex found himself drawing it to his face. Even with his eyes closed he felt strange motion as the helmet shifted and writhed in his hands, seemingly changing shape to accomodate his head even as he drew it on. Dropping it into place, he opened his eyes.

Brilliant light blinded him and Alex let out a panicked scream as his vision filled with vivid imagery.

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Alex fell to his knees, clutching at the sides of the helmet as he saw the destruction of a planet and an entire race of people. The horror was too much to bear but try as he might, the helmet would not come off.

<Calm yourself Alex Winter. All will be well>

Alex stopped and blinked. The images had stopped and he found himself looking at the ground. His vision was obscured by a gentle glowing HUD displaying a variety of readings but he otherwise, his sight had cleared and the pain ahd gone.

"Who said that?" he whispered, looking around.

<I am the Virtual Autonomous Life Archive Record. The memory of Valar. Primary directive is to preserve the history of the Valar. Secondary directive is to assist the Omega Prime in the preservation of peace and upholding justice>

"You're... you're in my head?!" Alex stammered, not quite believing it even as he asked the question.

<Of sorts. I am connected via neural link though my data is stored within the circuitry of the helmet you wear. This recepticle is the last remaining storage vessel of the Valar empire. You have been chosen as the new Omega Prime. We have much work to do>

"No. You've got the wrong guy. I'm just a dumb security guard. I tried telling this to the alien guy before he died. I can't do this".

<Elix Gan-Shun was the wisest and bravest of our people. He chose you and we live by his wisdom. We see into your mind as you see into ours. You are a good man Alex Winter. You have an honourable soul. You have been chosen>

Alex groaned and dropped to sit on the ground by his car. "I'm not going to get out of this am I?" he groaned.

<Omega Prime is the highest honour a being can recieve. You have been chosen. Are you ready for your tutelage?>

"What do you mean?"

<You must learn of our history. We will teach you the legacy you carry as well as the power you now wield>

Alex perked up and raised an eyebrow. "Power?" he asked. "What kind of power?"

<We will show you>


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[FONT=&quot;]"Whoa" Alex gasped as he rose. "How the hell did you do that?"

Looking at his reflection in the window of the car door he was now stood in a full uniform of the same design as the helmet. He could feel the power surging through his limbs and his mind seemingly awakening from a deep sleep to take in a vault of new information.

<It is basic Valar battle technology. The suit is linked into the helmet and is formed of a synthezied alloy that can reduce or expand in mass through a series of pre-programmed instructions. The suit is resistant to damage in most forms and can be worn or removed at will by the wearer. It is also tapped into the cosmic energy that feeds the universe itself, allowing the user to manipulate and channel that energy into flight, protective shield or offensive weaponry>

"I can feel it"
Alex grinned, clenching his fists open and closed. "V, how do I fly?"

<Simply think about flying>

Alex cracked his knuckles and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, he cast his mind to the sky and the desire to fly.

"AAAAAARRRRGGHHHH!"
The scream ripped from his throat as he rocketed skywards, flipping and tumbling in the air, spinning and twisting out of control. "V, how do I stop? I want to get off! Aaaaaggghh!"

<Control your emotions Alex Winter. Steady yourself. Think about how you want to move>

Alex closed off thoughts of the sky and focused his attention on the ground. Then he began to tumble like a lead weight toward the ground. "Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-!"

<Focus Alex Winter. Control. Think>

As the dark ground came screaming up towards him Alex tried to focus. He saw himself floating, moving seamlessly through the night air. In that instant his body shifted and he levelled out, skimming the ground and rising back into the air.

<Good. You are in control Alex Winter>


Alex rose into the air and twisted, getting a feel to the sensation. He couldn't stop the grin that smeared across his face. Within the helmet his HUD streamed date into his mind about air temperatures, thermal pockets, latitude and other things. Alex found himself processing the data without even considering it. He had never felt an awareness or a freedom like this. He could feel the cosmic energy surging through every fiber, feeding him and urging him onwards. Without realising, Alex found himself drawing back towards Lost Haven, the buildings of the central hub of the city changing from thin, distant spires to huge illuminated columns. Alex urged himself on, moving faster and steadier, using tight turns and banking around buildings and obstacles. He was giddy with delight.

<Alex Winter. Primary Directive of the Omega Prime; Serve justice and protect the innocent. Sensors detect danger. Investigation recomended. Co-ordinates marked>

Alex glanced at the display on his right side. A group of what looked like troops were holed up in a stand-off with the local police forces. Alex shook his head and scowled "I can't do this V, I can barely fly this thing and I'm no hero".

<You are the Omega Prime. Primary Directive; Serve jus->

"Yeah yeah, I know"
Alex cut in. "But those guys are armed and I'm just one man".

<Numbers are inconsequential. We must help>

"Right" Alex sighed, resigned to his fate. "You know I've never been in a fight right? Well, I mean there was this one time in school where a ninth grader got me in a headlock and a swirlee but I'm not sure that counts..."

<We will show you how>

Omega Prime banked into the scene, swishing past the building and landing by the police line. Looking around everything was choas as officers surrounded the building, their guns pointed towards the entrance. Overhead choppers circled and off to the end of the block, citizens and the media stood anxiously behind the police cordons.

"Who's in charge here?"
he asked a nearby officer.

"I am" the voice came from behind and Alex spun, regarding the man. "The name's Captain Harris" He was a big fellow, dark skinned and overweight, his jowls and short wrinkled features giving him the impression of a bulldog. He hooked his thumbs into the belt sat under his prodigious stomach. "This ain't no damn halloween party kid. Who the hell are you?"

"I'm umm..." Alex swallowed and decided that if he was going to be in this situation he should take the bull by the horns and run with it. "I'm Omega Prime, Captian. I'm here to assist".

"Never heard of you before kid. Seems like more you damn supers turn up every week" Harris rubbed at his jaw and looked the man upside down. Finally he sighed and shook his head. "Can't believe I'm going to do this but fine. You want to help? We've got a whole bunch of goons holed up in there. They're lead by a man calling himself The Pitbull. We don't know what they want, but we imagine that it's something to do with the labs set up in there".

"Don't worry Captain, I'll end this. Just have your men ready to back me up when it's done".

The Captain grunted and moved away to take position on the line. Alex swallowed deep and looked towards the building. Overhead, a huge red sign that read 'CARMINE INDUSTRIES' cast an ominous glow over the scene. "I hope you know what we're doing V" Alex mumbled.

<All will be well Alex Winter. Believe in yourself>


Alex nodded and lifted into the air, directing himself at the huge glass complex of the front entrance he powered forward, screaming through the air, across the block and through into the foyer. As he landed, the room lit up in a hail of gunfire.

[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot;]*****[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot;]
At the crash site of Elix Gan-Shun, two men stand at the treeline, observing the wreckage. The first man, tall and powerful wore a long dark coat over his frame. His dark hair ruffled in the breeze as he stared into the flames of the wreckage.

"Is it the real deal?" He asked.

The man next to him was smaller, with the features of a weasel. He pushed small glasses up his nose and glanced at the taller man. "Yes Mr Wolfe. It is confirmed Valar. The pilot is dead".

"Recover it all"
Wolfe said flatly. "I want the corpse in my labs in an hour".

"As you wish sir".


[/FONT]
 
PREVIOUSLY...
THE BIRTH OF A HERO

"Stand back!" A broad female burst through the doors of the warehouse, holding one sai in both of her hands. Almost instantly, the weapon sliced across the Cop's neck, Cat watching on in horror as the law enforcer dropped to the floor, clutching his neck as he slowly became engulfed in the shadow of death.

Bullets flew, but the woman narrowly avoided the incoming attacks. She was faster than a cheetah, her movements swift yet sharp, piercing her Sais in to the shoulders of the Cops, yanking them out and spinning them around her fingers. She finally launched herself in to the air, spinning round gracefully, like a helicopter blade in the sky. She stretched out her legs, kicking the last Cop standing up the chin and breaking his nose. Finally landing on two feet, the woman jabbed her sai in to the stomach of the Cop.

Cat felt her pupils lock down on the woman's movements, almost absorbing the skills like a sponge. "You are free to enter. Master Shinobi is waiting..."

"I-I'm gettin outta here!" Cat struggled to sprint in her platform stilettos, but with all the strength she had, she yanked the hiding Karen by the arm and two females began to make an exit of Downtown Lost Haven.

"Halt!" A gust of wind knocked Cat and Karen off their feet, the two reporters lying on the ground, looking up at the women, who now stood in front of the two astonished females. "The Cops down here don't like when people start taking pictures. What are your names?"

"I-I'm Kayla, sh-she's Candice. We're here for the party..."


The woman sharply nodded, sliding her Sais in to her silk, grey, kimono. "Very well...follow me."
***​
Karen linked arms with Cat, the two females still shivering from the scene that the women had caused. They had entered the Judo warehouse, a tall blonde woman attacking a punch bag with all her effort. She had ripped four other punch bags apart, and had a katana placed by her feet. Once again, Cat's pupils locked in to position, watching the blonde woman attack the punch bag. "That is just Lotus, ignore her, she's in lockdown mode."

The three females walked straight passed the blonde women, making their way towards a stair case, which was titled 'Fire Exit'. The woman opened the doors, leading Karen and Cat down the narrow steel stairs. A soft sound of club music slowly started to fill up the eardrums of all three females, gradually becoming louder as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Candice, Kayla, welcome to La Veuve Noire..."

Their jaws dropped as they saw various females dancing seductively around poles, some holding machine guns, some licking the blades of Machetes or Katanas. Men sat around the club, laughing, cheering, and drinking. They each had a well-built female serving them their drinks, laughing with them and even giving them a private lap dance.

"Ah, Madame Rose, are these the girls Officer Jones recommended?"

The woman, who had been named Madame Rose, bowed down to her knees, smirking whilst standing back up straight. "Indeed, Master Shinobi. This is Candice and Kayla..."

They both reluctantly curtsied, looking at each other with a nervous smile. "Courtsey!?"
"Well I wasn't going to bow, was I!?"

"Follow me, ladies. I have something more special for the two of you."

***
Brendan Cooper hung from chains, his arms wrapped together and his wrists aching from the grip of the chains. He felt like his arms were going to rip off, but kept himself from showing any signs of pain. Lyla Kwan had now changed in to a sharp black blazer, as well as a tight fitting, black, pinstripe, pants. Her stilettos were razor sharp, the heels being made out of blades. Her hair had been slicked back in to a high bun; the chopsticks that kept the hair in place were indeed, miniature daggers. In her hand, she held a dart gun, ready to fire at any moment.

"I'm telling you; I don't know anything about Catrina being a methuamn!"

"Liar! Catrina Carter is the daughter of Tornado and the CIA worker, Agent Blair. Her DNA has been proved to show signs of metahuman traces, proving she did infact inherit her father's metahuman blood and not her mother's."

"Where did you even get those samples from!?" Brendan strained slightly, sweating heavily.

"Master Shinobi has his sources..."


"But why do you need me!? If you know she's a metahuman why are you asking me!?"


"This is not about her being a metahuman. This is about your connection to her. We plan to kill you and Ms Karen Hathway. Under orders from Master Shinobi, and his wife, Mirage."

THE BIRTH OF A HERO

The beat to Rihanna's latest song ''Only Girl in the World'' drowns out Cat's thoughts. Her vision is hasty from the exotic dance lights and her bearings are lost as she is taken through the ever growing crowd. Sweat, perfume, gun powder and alcohol are what her nose catches off the passing people. She feels her slender self becoming indulged within the crowd, her pupils fixed on the women dancing on the poles. Her eyes lock and she watches as the large-breasted and skinny-legged females wrap themselves around the pole, dancing around it, twirling their arsenal around their fingers ever so carefully.

Finally snapping back in to reality, Cat re-joined Karen. They were lead past the vulgar scenes of men cheering on pole dancers. The females beside them were dressed as waitresses, except with skin tight outfits and knifes jammed down their cheap fishnets. A small bar was located in the far end of the room, where darkness shrouded over the hotspot. Only one green spotlight lit up the stools. "As you can tell, ladies, that La Veuve Noire is a very successful club. Although, I can not take all the credit, as it was Madame Rose who infact set up this whole club. I just help her with the employment of the girls. We even hire those 'meta-humans' from time to time."

Cat made a mental note in her brain. Interesting facts, for later purposes. Karen, on the other hand, had slipped out her digital camera and managed to snap a few shots. The flash of the camera merged well with the disco lights, so Master Shinobi and Madame Rose didn't suspect a thing. Well, just yet. "Why do all the chicks have weapons!? Will we be getting weapons!?"

Cat was forced to shout over the loud music. Madame Rose chuckled and kept on walking. Karen and Cat weren't exactly sure if Master Shinobi had even heard them, let alone if Madame Rose was really chuckling at Cat's remark or perhaps about something else. It wasn't until they finally stopped at the sight of a large, silver, door. There were no doorknobs or keyholes. Just posh writing across the door, reading:
La Veure Noire - The Home of Femme Fatale

"I managed to get a good shot of the writing. Perhaps this isn't what we thought it was after all...I think we're on thin ice here." Karen leaned back and slowly whispered to her partner, fearing for both of their safety.

"Karen, Karen, Karen...There is no need to worry. James got clarification from Officer Jones, second-in-command cop for Lost Haven. I think I would trust a law enforcer,"

"After what we witnessed, I don't think so! He could of set us up down here to get attacked or even raped! We need to get the f**** outta here before--"

"Ah, here she is. Candice, Kayla, meet Trixie - our star of the evening."

sm81uw.jpg


"Aw, how cute. The new girls always get creeped out by the gun."

"Maybe we should get outta here..." Cat slowly stepped back, whispering in to Karen's ear. The large, silver door had opened to reveal a slick black staircase, and a softer sound of club beats at the far, darker end of the staircase. It was only Trixie who stood in their way. "Welcome to the show, ladies."
 
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"Aron? Back so soon?"

I stand in Athena's doorway, hands in my pockets. I'm still thinking about my encounter with that mugger. My body just reacted. I didn't have to think. And try as I might, I can only think of one explanation. Athena was right. As crazy as it sounds, maybe I am this avatar, or whatever. "I want to give this another shot."

Athena nods. "I'm glad." She picks up a wooden sword and shield and hands them to me.

I strap the shield onto my left arm, adjusting the straps snugly. I walk into the center of the room and get into a prepared stance. Athena turns and faces me, brandishing a sword and shield of her own. I close my eyes and picture the mugger. I think about the way my body responded. The slowed-down heartbeat, the controlled breathing. Everything goes silent - save for a low-pitched ringing tone in my ears. I become acutely aware of my surroundings.

And then, it happens.

I launch myself at Athena with more conviction than I've ever felt. My sword comes crashing down on her shield, making a wooden cracking sound like a tree struck by lightning. Athena jabs at my ribs, and I bring my shield down on her forearm. As she drops her guard, I bring my sword around and press it to her throat. Athena stares at me with surprise before smiling.

"Very good, Aron," she says softly. As I lower my sword, she smirks. "I guess I don't have to take it easy on you anymore."

"...what?"
 
Anderson sits behind his desk, looking through piles of files, preparing for S.T.R.I.K.E.'s next move in securing the United States against the threat posed by metahumans when the intercom on his desk buzzes.

"Yes, Ms Powers?"

"Sir, a call on the secure line for you."

Anderson sighs.

"Very well. I'll be with him in a few minutes."

Anderson has never cared much for D. Whenever the two directors have any contact there is always a game of one-upsmanship, and the conversation usually ranges from barely civil to outright hostile.


After several minutes of silence coming from The Director's office, Alberts finally builds up the guts to peek inside.

The office door opens slowly, and Alberts' head pokes it's way inside. "Sir? ...is that...steam coming out of your head?"

"It's the coffee."

After keeping D on hold for several minutes, Anderson picks up the intra agency secure line and says in an overly polite tone, "D, good to hear from you. What can I do for you?"[/QUOTE]

The Director waves Alberts away, and he dutifully closes the door behind him.

"Hello, Alex. Just happened to catch something very interesting on the news. You always did like to be in the spotlight, didn't you?"
 
After several minutes of silence coming from The Director's office, Alberts finally builds up the guts to peek inside.

The office door opens slowly, and Alberts' head pokes it's way inside. "Sir? ...is that...steam coming out of your head?"

"It's the coffee."
[/COLOR]
After keeping D on hold for several minutes, Anderson picks up the intra agency secure line and says in an overly polite tone, "D, good to hear from you. What can I do for you?"

The Director waves Alberts away, and he dutifully closes the door behind him.

"Hello, Alex. Just happened to catch something very interesting on the news. You always did like to be in the spotlight, didn't you?"[/QUOTE]


"Not particularly D. I'd prefer to stay out of the limelight and let things run their course. Unfortunately, these are trying times and we have to do things that we may not be entirely comfortable with."

He pauses just just an instant before adding, "Now what is it that you want? I'm very busy."
 
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Dr. Milton Reed looks around his "room." More like a cell. He wonders how he got himself into this mess. He was once hailed as one of the top five experts in his field: metahuman studies. His doctorate in primary and secondary mutations is widely considered one of the most insightful pieces written on the subject. Not long ago, he was working as the resident physician for the Superhuman Detainment Squad, a breakthrough pilot program designed to address the growing problem of metahuman crime. Now, he found himself a quasi-prisoner to the Diamondbacks, an underground gang working out of Carver.

The Diamondbacks blackmailed him. How they got their hands on those faulty prescriptions, Dr. Reed would never know. They threatened to ruin him, destroy his reputation and his career. He wasn't proud of the choices he had made, but he never thought he would be caught. And he certainly never thought he'd find himself in the employ of common criminals. Dr. Reed sighs.

The door to his room opens, and Dr. Reed's "handler," as it were, beckons to him. "Come on, Doc. They're asking for you."

Dr. Reed follows the tattooed man down the damp hallways of this "facility." In actuality, it was nothing more than a refurbished Park Ranger station on the outskirts of Carver Lake National Park. It must have been abandoned before the Diamondbacks found it. They renovated it and turned it into a makeshift medical and scientific facility. The outfittings were shoddy, at best.

"In there," the Diamondback says gruffly as he points to a large steel door.

Dr. Reed opens the door, noting that it must be three feet thick. His attention is suddenly taken by a metal cage in the center of the poorly-lit room. Inside the cage is a frail man, dressed in torn, dirty clothes. He appears unconscious, but Dr. Reed can't be sure.

"An arctothrope," announces the cold, slimy voice of the Diamondbacks' primary physician, Dr. Saleen. A mad scientist if ever there was one, Dr. Saleen was in charge of almost all of the "experiments" the Diamondbacks conducted. His expertise on metahumans, however, was insufficient, and so they brought in Dr. Reed. "A werebear."

"Werebear?" Dr. Reed repeats disbelievingly. The term seems self-explanatory, but Dr. Reed didn't know such things existed.

Dr. Saleen nods, rubbing his chin with his skinny fingers. "Fascinating, isn't he? You'd never know he possesses the instinct of a killer." On this, Dr. Reed had to agree. The man in the cage didn't look like he could stand up straight, let alone be responsible for the vicious animal attacks that had been taking place all over the city. "Your job is simple, Doctor. Help us control him. Turn him into our killing machine, to use against the Devil's Rejects."

***

"You know what, Sean? You've inspired me," Jim tells me as we sit on his couch, watching television together. He turns to me. "If you had the guts to tell Brooke your big secret, then why shouldn't I tell Abby how I feel about her?"

I smile. "Glad to hear it." I know Jim's always wanted what Brooke and I have, or what Jess and I had, and I think Abby gives him as good a chance to have that as any. Besides, who wouldn't be excited about two friends getting together?
 
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"Sean, I don't understand. Aren't you the one who's always saying that it's great when two friends get together?"

"Of course not!" I lie indignantly. "When did this happen?"

Abby shrugs, filling up the cup with a shot of expresso. I've cornered her at The Little Coffee Shop - which, as you can probably guess, is a little coffee shop. It's also Abby's part-time job for the summer. "About a week ago," she says casually.

"And you didn't tell me?"

Abby laughs. "I didn't think it was a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" I repeat. Abby shoots me a look to say "you're being too loud." Sure enough, when I look around, some of the customers are giving me dirty looks. Lowering my voice, I continue, "You and Vince started going out, and it's not a big deal?"

"I thought you'd be happy for me," Abby says as she hands the coffee to a waiting customer.

"I am. I am happy for you," I admit with a sigh. It's the truth. I mean, Vince is a good guy, and I'm sure those two have a connection. But it pains me to think of what this is going to do to Jim. He had pinned all his hopes on Abby. To find out that she's going out with someone else? It's going to crush him, and I don't want to be the messenger.

"...but?"

I hang my head. Jim and I are closer than Vince and I ever were, so by the rules of friendship I can't support this new relationship. But what can I say? Abby seems happy, and I should be happy for her. "But nothing."

"You sure? 'Cause I was hoping you and Brooke might be up for a double date," Abby explains, "but if you're not comfortable..."

"No. That sounds like fun, and I'm sure Brooke will want to do it."

Abby smiles. "Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, some of us have actual jobs." She sticks her tongue out at me as she takes the next customer's order.

***

"You knew?"

"...yeah?"

"You knew, and you didn't tell me?"

Brooke looks at me strangely. "What's the big deal?"

I sigh, falling back on my bed and burying my head into my pillow. I let out a muffled groan. This is terrible. When I finally sit back upright, I explain, "The big deal is that Jim likes Abby, and he was finally going to ask her out!"

Suddenly, the magnitude of the situation hits Brooke. "Oh."

"Yeah." I hold my head in my hands. I definitely didn't see this coming. "Now, what do I tell Jim?"

Brooke shrugs. I wish it were that easy. "You tell him the truth. And tell him before Friday, because that's when we're going on our date with them."

Oh, brother.
 
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif][BLACKOUT]“Yeah, hun. I’ve just touched down now. I’m on my way to your apartment as we speak… Yep… Yep… Love you too, see you soon.”[/BLACKOUT]
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It felt good to say that and know he meant it, even if it was preceded by another lie. Isaac hung up the phone and moved the hire car on to the upscale penthouse apartment of Renee Stevens.
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]---[/FONT]
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[BLACKOUT]“I’m for the penthouse… My name is…”[/BLACKOUT]
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“Ah yes, Mr Fontaine is it? Mrs Stevens said they were expecting you, over to the lift and Michael will let you up to the penthouse.”
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Isaac walked over to the lifts where another employee of the building was waiting to summon lifts.
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“Michael! This is Mr Fontaine. He’s for the penthouse.”
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Michael summoned an elevator, a ding was heard almost immediately as a lift opened.
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“Right this way, Mr Fontaine.” He stepped inside the elevator, flipped a switch to “Stop”, stuck a key in a keyhole in the lift and pressed the top button “P” before turning the key again and stepping back out of the elevator.[/FONT]
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“It’s the only place up there, sir. Step right out the lift and you’ll be there. Afraid I won’t be taking this ride with you. Out of respect, you understand?”
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[BLACKOUT]“Absolutely Michael, thank you very much.”[/BLACKOUT]
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“Hmm… This is awkward… Do I tip this guy? Americans tip everyone don’t they? Or would it be an insult to tip this guy? He did just say he wouldn’t be going up out of respect. Does that mean I just factor it in to the tip next time? I hate this tipping thing with this country. Why can’t everyone just be paid their decent wage and be done with it..? He is still standing there though, and I did thank him. So what’s he waiting for..? He is expecting a tip, isn’t he?” Isaac thinks to himself.[/FONT]
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He reaches into his pocket and acts like he hadn’t finished talking.
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[BLACKOUT]“…thank you very much and do me a favour will you. Take good care of the Stevens’ over the current weeks. I’ll probably be around quite frequently over the coming days or weeks.”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif] With this he shook Michael’s hand and slipped him a fifty.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif] [/FONT]
“Umm, that’s very generous sir, but I was just waiting to make sure you knew to switch the elevator back on. But this is most generous, you must have very lucky doormen back where you’re from.”
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Ahh, the switch… yeah… I got it. Actually, we don’t tip where I’m from. It’s why I’m still kind of getting used to the custom. That’s too much for this? I only really had fifties on me. S’pose that’ll get me a couple trips though, Michael?”[/BLACKOUT]
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Isaac flipped the switch and the doors began to close.
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[BLACKOUT]“Catch ya next time, Mike. Straight out when the doors open, right?”[/BLACKOUT]
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“You got it, Mr Fontaine.”
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In the interminable seconds of the lift’s ascent his mind races as he tries to think of what to say, how to react, what he could possibly be walking into.
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DING!
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The doors to the elevator opened at the penthouse level revealing Isaac to the penthouse and an immaculate apartment room to Isaac.[/FONT]
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“Oooh, Isaac’s here, Renee.”
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Ah, yes. The Doorman mentioned Mrs Stevens but I figured it was just a slip of the tongue… of course. Renee’s mother was here.

Isaac wheeled his case out of the elevator and let the doors sweep shut behind him.
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“Isaac?” A call came out, followed by a feminine face poking around a corner.[/FONT]
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“Oh, you are here! Just give me a minute!”[/FONT]
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“Renee! What are you doing?! Get back in there you’re not decent.”
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“Mum! I was just checking he WAS here.”[/FONT]
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“Of course he was here, I told you he was, now finish getting dressed.” [/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Mrs Stevens said, following Renee’s voice back into what was presumably her bedroom.[/FONT]
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Isaac stood just in front of the elevator not exactly sure how to handle the scene.
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[BLACKOUT]“Umm… if it’s ok, could I get myself a drink!?”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif] He called out.[/FONT]
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[BLACKOUT]“It was a long flight in, just a bit dry still!”[/BLACKOUT]
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“Oh where are my manners!” Mrs Stevens said, sweeping back from whereabouts unknown with boundless energy to devote to social protocol, and racing me to the kitchen. “Now what would you like, Isaac?”[/FONT]
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[BLACKOUT]“Well, I suppose that would depend on what you have to offer.”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif] Isaac says with a warm smile. It’s amazing, just like Isaac himself the rich have their own cover of pretence that covers the unspoken reality. You’d never know her husband, or Renee’s father, had just died.[/FONT]
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“Well, we’ve got a full fridge. You name it we probably have it, and if we don’t have it then we’ll have some brought up for the next time you want it.”
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Isaac was dying for a beer, but he was pretty sure that would be improper for the hour.
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[BLACKOUT]“Have you got any orange juice? That would probably be the best thing going considering the jetlag.”[/BLACKOUT]
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“Absolutely.” Almost instantly she had the fridge opened and was pouring him a glassful.[/FONT]
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[BLACKOUT]“Thank you very much, Mrs Stevens. I’m sorry that these were the circumstances we had to meet again under… and I’m especially sorry for your loss.”[/BLACKOUT]
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“…”
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Her pause makes Isaac question whether or not saying that which was previously unspoken was truly the right thing to do.

And then the answer comes.

Mrs Stevens burst into tears, crying long and deep into Isaac’s shoulder; a torrent of tears which had been held back by hiding from the issue until this point. Busying herself with other mundane activities with simple answers, to cover what she could not face. She would have to field such questions with social decorum at the funeral later, but she was clearly broadsided by the truth unexpected here.

Her husband was indeed dead.

Renee came around the corner to find her mother weeping deeply into Isaac’s shoulder. From across the room she stared with wide eyes at her mother, normally a locked box emotionally, sobbed deeply against him.
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]She mouthed “What did you do?” silently from across the room. All Isaac could offer was a perplexed expression and indicating with his off arm that he had no idea, in between patting Mrs Stevens gently on the back of her head. Renee crossed the floor and joined the pair, but was quickly brushed off the second her mother was aware she was there.[/FONT]

Mrs Stevens sniffed deeply, adjusted her clothes and excused herself to the bathroom, claiming something was in her eye.
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“What happened there?” Renee whispered to Isaac the second she left the room. [/FONT]
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[BLACKOUT]“I just said I was sorry for her loss, I didn’t mean to…”[/BLACKOUT]
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“No way…” Renee cut him short with a look of stunned disbelief.[/FONT]
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“We’ve never been the kind of family to get that touchy-feely in terms of our emotions… I’d no idea that she could be so… I don’t know… vulnerable.”[/FONT]
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[BLACKOUT]“What’s with you guys all taking so long, giggling out the back as well when I got here?”[/BLACKOUT]
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“We weren’t giggling… The service is today. They’re giving a large group ceremony, most of the families involved will be holding their own individual funeral procession as well but there’s a more public ceremony taking place today. Oh (gasping to self as she remembered) I forgot to ask you to bring a suit.”[/FONT]
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Isaac tapped his case with his foot. [/FONT][BLACKOUT]“It’s all in there.”[/BLACKOUT]
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“Better start getting ready then. We’ve got to leave in about 40 minutes.”[/FONT]
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Isaac disappeared into the bedroom and emerged some time later in full social garb - Black suit and tie, with contrasting white shirt.

Renee was sufficiently impressed.
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[BLACKOUT]“Still remember how to do a double-Windsor… So where’s your Mum?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“She’s already gone. She took a separate car.”[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Oh… Is that because of earlier, with her..?”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“Oh no. No, she was always going to take a separate car. Social circumstances kind of demand it with this kind of event. If I were younger or you weren’t coming along it probably would have been a bit different, but it’s no hassle.”[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“What? She doesn’t want me to go with…”[/BLACKOUT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“No, that’s not it. You know how it is. Stupid social conventions. Just how it would seem if you came with us, that’s all.” [/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif] [/FONT]
[BLACKOUT]“Fair enough.”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif] He’s had to deal with enough stupid etiquette issues which made little practical sense back at school, so while he didn’t understand why, he accepted that it just wasn’t the done thing.[/FONT]

Life goes on, even if you don’t understand why. Just as death can come about to those who don’t understand why.
[/FONT]
 
Previously

I

I break the connection from the tub and stumble back into the bathroom wall.

"You alright, Cayce?" Pierce asks as he pulls me up by my jacket. I nod and steady myself by leaning on the sink. I run the tap and splash cold water on my face. I look down into the sink drain as I talk.

"Whoever did this had powers."

"Like a superhero?"

"Yeah. They held Joe Dante in place with their mind and burned him alive. Whoever did it wasn't alone. I don't know what it means, but one word kept running through my mind as I watched him burn."

"What word?"

I look up at Pierce, water dripping from my face.

"Madlove."

Back at LHPD headquarters, Pierce and Captain Johnson go about piecing together details of the dead man's life. I sit back and watch as they go to work. It doesn't take long to yield results.

"That name you gave me, Cayce, Madlove? Well I got a hit."

I lean against Pierce's desk and look over his shoulder and he pulls case files. "Madlove is one Reverend Madlove. Not sure on his real name, but he's a cult leader."

"Cult leader? Hmm, maybe a motive is coming together. I know whoever killed him wanted him to die and suffer. Maybe he didn't drink the kool-aid?"

"Well, Dante's family says he was trying to get out of Madlove's 'religion.'"

"Air quotes, I love it when you do the air quotes."

"What do we know about Madlove," Johnson asks as he comes over.

"Nothing, really," Pierce responds. "He's got some low budget TV show and radio program. Nothing criminal shows up in connection to his name, which is odd. Almost all cult leaders have some kind of record. Cons, petty thefts, things like that. He's clean....in fact, he doesn't even have a social security number. I can't find his real name...it's like the guy popped up out of nowhere over night."

"Alright," Johnson says. "Go out to his camp and meet with him. Maybe Cayce can get a reading off of him and see what's going on."

Pierce looks at me and I just shrug. "I call shotgun."
 
Two minutes ‘til showtime.

I wrap a silky white cloak over my body and take one final glance in the mirror to make sure I look absolutely marvelous. I can hear the whines and screeches from microphones and amplifiers coming from the other side of the wall. Then, a guitar chord, followed by the roar of a crowd.

“Brothers and sisters…welcome.”

I flash myself one big, pearly-white smile before heading for the doorway.

“Prepare to transcend into new realms of reality, new levels of consciousness, and new heights of cosmic awareness with the teachings of our beloved Messiah, the one, the only, Reverend MADLOVE

I step out of the doorway and onto the stage, the screams from the crowd and screeching guitar riffs from the band overwhelming my feeble human ears. I move through the thick, artificial fog and make my way to center stage where I turn about and a pair of my lovely assistants come scampering to my side. The fog clears and upon seeing my divine form, the crowd goes absolutely mental.

With my back facing the audience, I raise on hand into the air and unleash a dazzling array of sparks and light. The assistants pull off the cloak and I spin around, facing the crowd, absorbing their screams, their applause, their love.

The assistants exit the stage, and with a dismissive wave of my hand the crowd falls silent.

“Today’s sermon…is about…faith


* * *


TWO WEEKS AGO…


The door to my office swings open, and Dante—a veteran member of the Church—comes storming in with my bumbling herald trailing close behind.

“Reverend, I told him that your visiting hours were over but—”

“—I need to speak with you, Reverend.”

I frown. I don’t like being disturbed during my private hours.

“Can it wait ‘til morning, Dante? My visiting hours are ov—“

“No, this needs to be discussed now.”

I try my best hold back a groan. These insignificant worms and their insignificant “problems”…

“Very well,” I said, forcing a smile, “What seems to be troubling you, brother Dante?”

“I want to leave the Church.”

My pseudo-smile buckles into a frown once again.


* * *

“Faith is the most important virtue any of you could hope to have. Faith trumps fact. Always. It is faith in this Church and in our beliefs, our practices, and doctrines that keeps us strong—that keeps us unified against a cruel and unrelentingly brutal world where unique practices such as our own are met with prejudice and discrimination!

"Who are they to say what is and isn’t right? Look how loving, peaceful, and happy we are, babies! Look at all that we have built and accomplished! Many of you here in this Church have traveled with me and your brothers and sisters into new, brilliant realities and cosmic planes and defied all of the ‘unbreakable’ laws of this universe! Many of you have felt the warmth and indescribable pleasures of Enlightenment! Who are they to say we’re wrong


* * *


“Why would you ever want to leave our loving family?”

Dante has been with us since the Church’s original incarnation—before the Invasion, before we were terrorized by those meta-human vermin. What suddenly has him so eager to leave?

“I’ve been with the Church for quite a while, Reverend, and over the course of time, I’ve watched it…change quite a bit.”

“Yes, we have, Dante. Change is good! We are expanding our—“

“No, not like that, Reverend. When I first came to the Church, I was poor, broken, and alone. Then, I listened to your sermons and realized that your teachings are what had been missing in my life. I found love, acceptance, and new reasons to live. I blissfully enjoyed each and every day I had. And then…things began to change. Slowly, at first—with the cosmic communions…and then our mission to eliminate the Negative…and then we began selling the communion and brewing it and …I went along with everything....

“I asked no questions, did all that was asked of me, and told myself it would benefit the Church, my brothers, the world…but deep down inside I knew it was wrong. And I still feel that way. In fact, it’s more apparent than ever to me…it was wrong, everything we’ve done is wrong

“I see…”

“But that's not all. My family saw that it was wrong too. And they tried to tell me. Did you know I haven’t seen them almost a year? Do you know why? I know why. It was you.

"They came here, several times, asking to see me, asking you to let me go, and you turned them away every time. I had no idea until two nights ago where I ran into my brother at restaurant! They were worried sick about me and you went out of your way to keep them from seeing me! And you and the others had convinced me that they had abandoned me, that they hated me!”

“Well, Dante, they said some very nasty things about us and I could sense an unruly amount of Negative—“

“—Enough. I’m done with you, done with your ******** teachings, and done with my so-called ‘brothers and sisters’ and done with this Church. Goodbye, Reverend.”

“…….”


* * *


“Outside forces will try to corrupt you—plant seeds of fear and doubt in your mind. Use their precious ‘logic’ and ‘truth’ to try to steer you away from the righteous path! But be strong, babies! Be strong and believe in what you know in your hearts, minds, and souls to be true! And to those of you in this room with wavering faith, inflicted with the plague of doubt, let it be known…”


* * *



TWO NIGHTS AGO...

THUD
THUD
THUD
SMASH!

My two followers succeeded in kicking the apartment door open. The lights were dimly lit, the television was off, and no one has come rushing out of their bedroom wondering what the hell that noise was—it didn’t seem like anyone was home.

“I thought you said he was always home at this hour.”

“He is, Reverend! We’re certain of it, we followed him for a whole week!”

I walk down a dark hallway and see a closed door at the end of it with light shining out from the crack at the bottom.

“Ah.”

I wave my followers over. They see the door and immediately charge and burst through it, revealing a terrified Dante in the midst of a bath. I walk into the bathroom with a smirk. There's loud music playing. That explains why he didn't hear the door being kicked open.

I look around and notice a radio plugged into the wall, sitting near the sink. I glance at the tub, then the radio, then back at the tub, then the radio....

No, no. Where’s the fun in that?

“Reverend?! What the hell are you doing in my home?! Get out! Get out or I’ll call the police!”

“Dante, you are the first of our veteran class of Church-goers to leave our glorious Congregation. We have come to say farewell. You will be missed. And though it pains me to see you go, I still want to wish you the best in life. Or…rather…afterlife.”

There are two words that could perfectly describe his face now: sheer terror. He tries to spring out of the tub but he is suddenly shoved back down and restrained by invisible arms. I concentrate on making the molecules in his bath water move faster and faster. Steam begins to billow out of the tub and Dante’s flesh begins to go from a pallid pink to a bright red.

He struggles with all his might to leave the tub, but I keep him held down with my powers and make the water molecules move faster and faster. A thick cloud of steam rises from the tub as the water begins bubbling and Dante lets out a horrofic scream. A silence him by telekinetically forcing his jaw shut and increasing the heat until I smell his skin boil and watch layer after layer of flesh drip and peel off of his body, eventually revealing the bloody red muscle tissue underneath. I can’t help but laugh.

He lets out one last gurgle before going limp. I release him and his head slumps back against the pink-tiled wall. One of my followers looks like he’s about to vomit. He suddenly feels much better after I shoot him a look of disgust. We take our leave.


* * *


“…let it be known that there will be dire consequences.”


madlovebannercopy.png


The sermon had come to a close and my children began filing out of the church. As usual, a small group of them approached the stage to receive whatever extra life-lessons and spiritual advice they could shake out me. I nodded and smiled as I half-listened to their questions and qualms and gave each one some variation of “look within yourself” or “trust in the Church.” I still have difficulty understanding why these humans hold their “Messiahs” in such high regard. Anyone of these fools could do it. But I suppose it’s best that they don’t know that.

Each one gave a smile and “thank you” before trotting off to solve whatever insignificant problems are plaguing their insignificant lives with the meaningless consultations I gave them. And now, the church is nearly empty, save for the veteran members who are busy tending to the stage and sound equipment…and a gaunt, unfamiliar man in a dark suit sitting in the front row.

His sunken, glassy, unblinking eyes were completely fixated on me…and for reasons I don’t quite understand, it bothered me. Not like my herald’s face—which annoyed me—but like…like nothing I’ve felt before. Or at least felt in a very long time. I raised a brow at him, silently asking what he found so interesting about me. He did not respond. Feeling uncomfortable, I quickly glanced down at the podium, looking for any excuse to break eye contact with him. I pointlessly skim through sermon notes, hoping he’d soon take his leave. I reach the end of the page, and glance back up, hoping to no longer feel his icy glare.

And there it is. His pale, emotionless face continues to stare at me. I began gritting my teeth and rapidly drumming my fingers on the podium.

“Your first time, I take it?” I said, finally breaking the silence. He blinks for the first time and gives a slight smile before nodding.

“I see…well, I do hope you enjoyed the sermon.”

He nodded again.

“Splendid. In that case, I hope you join us again next week,” I lied. I look back down at the podium and skim through the same notes again.

“We will definitely meet again, O’Nva.”

I froze. A cold shiver ran up my spine and my face went numb. For the first time in my human form, I experienced terror.

“What did you call me?” I asked in a quivering voice. Looking up, I saw nothing but an empty church. He had disappeared.

In spin around in a panic, knocking the podium over and scattering the notes.

“Pick that up!” I shout to the veteran members tending to the speakers as I briskly walk towards my office.
 
MantisBanner.jpg


Brooke and I are walking, arm in arm, next to Abby and Vince. We're on our way to the Little Coffee Shop after the movie theater. God help me, the night's actually been really fun. I forgot how chill Vince is. Brooke pulls me aside and whispers, "So, how did Jim take it?"

I lock up. "Well, he...uh..."

"You didn't tell him." It's a statement, not a question. Unfortunately, I'm a little too slow on my excuse, and it gives me away completely. Brooke punches me in the arm. "Sean, you were supposed to tell him!"

"I know!" I glance over at Abby and Vince, who are busy talking to each other. I then whisper, "I just...I didn't want to put a damper on his weekend."

Brooke gives me a look. "He's going to find out eventually. Do you want to explain to him why you weren't the one to tell him?"

"No, ma'am," I reply sheepishly.

"So, Sean," Vince calls out. Brooke and I stand up straight and smile. "I guess we're going to be classmates again next year."

"Yeah, man. You gotta promise me I'll see more of you than I did in high school," I laugh.

Vince smiles. "Yeah. You know how it is. My dad was always telling me, 'Vince, colleges are going to be evaluating you. You need to stand out.' He pushed me to join student council, yearbook, all of that." He puts his arm around Abby. "But now, I'm going to LHU, and I don't have to worry about it."

"Ugh. I hated the college search," Abby remarks. "That's why I decided to just go for the two years at CLCC and worry about it later."

Suddenly, there's shrieking and screaming coming from around the corner. The four of us freeze in place. That's when we see a car taking a tumble down the street, barely avoiding several panicked bystanders. I turn to Brooke, who gives me a concerned look.

"I have to do my...you know...my thing," I explain.

Brooke nods. She's new to this, but in time she'll get used to it. Just like Jim did. She gives me a quick kiss before turning to Abby and Vince. She points to an electronics store. "Let's hide in there!" she suggests.

"Sean, aren't you coming?"

"I think I saw a police car a block or so back. I'm going to go tell him something's going on," I lie.

"Be careful, Sean."

I nod before taking off running. I glance over my shoulder to see that Brooke's ushering them into the safety of the electronics store. Once that's taken care of, I duck into the nearest alleyway and change.

"You know, you guys never pick Aunt Susan's meatloaf dinner night to do this kind of stuff," I announce while bounding across the rooftops. "It's always date night, or game night, or three buck pizza night."

I perform a somersault through the air, landing at the scene of the disturbance.

"Hey...has anyone ever told you that you look like Batmanuel?"

blackbearredesign1.png


"Grrrrrrr."

"Really? No love for the Tick reference?"
 
Previously:
[FONT=&quot;]
Prime.png
[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot;]"Whoa" Alex gasped as he rose. "How the hell did you do that?"

Looking at his reflection in the window of the car door he was now stood in a full uniform of the same design as the helmet. He could feel the power surging through his limbs and his mind seemingly awakening from a deep sleep to take in a vault of new information.

<It is basic Valar battle technology. The suit is linked into the helmet and is formed of a synthezied alloy that can reduce or expand in mass through a series of pre-programmed instructions. The suit is resistant to damage in most forms and can be worn or removed at will by the wearer. It is also tapped into the cosmic energy that feeds the universe itself, allowing the user to manipulate and channel that energy into flight, protective shield or offensive weaponry>

"I can feel it"
Alex grinned, clenching his fists open and closed. "V, how do I fly?"

<Simply think about flying>

Alex cracked his knuckles and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, he cast his mind to the sky and the desire to fly.

"AAAAAARRRRGGHHHH!"
The scream ripped from his throat as he rocketed skywards, flipping and tumbling in the air, spinning and twisting out of control. "V, how do I stop? I want to get off! Aaaaaggghh!"

<Control your emotions Alex Winter. Steady yourself. Think about how you want to move>

Alex closed off thoughts of the sky and focused his attention on the ground. Then he began to tumble like a lead weight toward the ground. "Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-!"

<Focus Alex Winter. Control. Think>

As the dark ground came screaming up towards him Alex tried to focus. He saw himself floating, moving seamlessly through the night air. In that instant his body shifted and he levelled out, skimming the ground and rising back into the air.

<Good. You are in control Alex Winter>


Alex rose into the air and twisted, getting a feel to the sensation. He couldn't stop the grin that smeared across his face. Within the helmet his HUD streamed date into his mind about air temperatures, thermal pockets, latitude and other things. Alex found himself processing the data without even considering it. He had never felt an awareness or a freedom like this. He could feel the cosmic energy surging through every fiber, feeding him and urging him onwards. Without realising, Alex found himself drawing back towards Lost Haven, the buildings of the central hub of the city changing from thin, distant spires to huge illuminated columns. Alex urged himself on, moving faster and steadier, using tight turns and banking around buildings and obstacles. He was giddy with delight.

<Alex Winter. Primary Directive of the Omega Prime; Serve justice and protect the innocent. Sensors detect danger. Investigation recomended. Co-ordinates marked>

Alex glanced at the display on his right side. A group of what looked like troops were holed up in a stand-off with the local police forces. Alex shook his head and scowled "I can't do this V, I can barely fly this thing and I'm no hero".

<You are the Omega Prime. Primary Directive; Serve jus->

"Yeah yeah, I know"
Alex cut in. "But those guys are armed and I'm just one man".

<Numbers are inconsequential. We must help>

"Right" Alex sighed, resigned to his fate. "You know I've never been in a fight right? Well, I mean there was this one time in school where a ninth grader got me in a headlock and a swirlee but I'm not sure that counts..."

<We will show you how>

Omega Prime banked into the scene, swishing past the building and landing by the police line. Looking around everything was choas as officers surrounded the building, their guns pointed towards the entrance. Overhead choppers circled and off to the end of the block, citizens and the media stood anxiously behind the police cordons.

"Who's in charge here?"
he asked a nearby officer.

"I am" the voice came from behind and Alex spun, regarding the man. "The name's Captain Harris" He was a big fellow, dark skinned and overweight, his jowls and short wrinkled features giving him the impression of a bulldog. He hooked his thumbs into the belt sat under his prodigious stomach. "This ain't no damn halloween party kid. Who the hell are you?"

"I'm umm..." Alex swallowed and decided that if he was going to be in this situation he should take the bull by the horns and run with it. "I'm Omega Prime, Captian. I'm here to assist".

"Never heard of you before kid. Seems like more you damn supers turn up every week" Harris rubbed at his jaw and looked the man upside down. Finally he sighed and shook his head. "Can't believe I'm going to do this but fine. You want to help? We've got a whole bunch of goons holed up in there. They're lead by a man calling himself The Pitbull. We don't know what they want, but we imagine that it's something to do with the labs set up in there".

"Don't worry Captain, I'll end this. Just have your men ready to back me up when it's done".

The Captain grunted and moved away to take position on the line. Alex swallowed deep and looked towards the building. Overhead, a huge red sign that read 'CARMINE INDUSTRIES' cast an ominous glow over the scene. "I hope you know what we're doing V" Alex mumbled.

<All will be well Alex Winter. Believe in yourself>


Alex nodded and lifted into the air, directing himself at the huge glass complex of the front entrance he powered forward, screaming through the air, across the block and through into the foyer. As he landed, the room lit up in a hail of gunfire.

[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot;]*****[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot;]
At the crash site of Elix Gan-Shun, two men stand at the treeline, observing the wreckage. The first man, tall and powerful wore a long dark coat over his frame. His dark hair ruffled in the breeze as he stared into the flames of the wreckage.

"Is it the real deal?" He asked.

The man next to him was smaller, with the features of a weasel. He pushed small glasses up his nose and glanced at the taller man. "Yes Mr Wolfe. It is confirmed Valar. The pilot is dead".

"Recover it all"
Wolfe said flatly. "I want the corpse in my labs in an hour".

"As you wish sir".
[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot;]
Prime.png
[/FONT]

<Shield Bubble activated. Targets highlighted. Weapons Primed>

Alex landed in the central foyer of the building and threw up the protective blue energy shield bubble, encasing him from the hail of gunfire. Seven red targets appeared on his HUD and without hesitating he raised his gauntlets towards them, firing white hot energy blasts that took the men out instantly. As he swept in a circle from inside his shield all six men were taken down in mere seconds.

"Holy sh-t that was awesome!"

<All targets eliminated>

"Shields down, V"
Alex said surveying the damage all around him. The foyer was absolutely destroyed, everything either riddled in bullet holes or still smouldering from his energy blasts. Keeping an eye out, he headed deeper into the building.

"You're going to pay for what you did to my boys!"
A voice echoed from somewhere close.

Alex spun at the sound of the voice looking for its source but could see no one. "V, can we do an area sweep?"

"NO NEED CHUMP!"
A shadow to his left shifted, Omega Prime reacted but not quick enough. A hard uppercut caught Primes jaw sending him high into the air and crashing hard into a concrete pillar in the center of the room.

Prime groaned and rolled to his knees, looking up at the figure. "V, who the hell is that?"

<According to local law enforcement databases, Subject is Owen Rourke. British citizen. Meta-human. Enhanced strength, durability, speed and healing factor. Wanted in seven countries for over fifty felonies. Codename: The Pitbull>

Gwdill__s_Bulldog_revised_by_skywarp_2copy.png

"Come on sweet cheeks. Try gettin' up so I can pound yer some more!"

Prime rose and lifted his hid arms, firing off a quick blast but The Pitbull was surprisingly fast and dodged the move. Leaping forward he tackled Prime from his feet and unleashed a series of furious blows upon the young young hero before grabbing his leg and hurling him like a rag doll across the building foyer.

Alex groaned as pain lanced through his body. "V, I thought you said this suit protected me?!"

<The Omega Prime Battle Armour does protect you Alex Winter. However, it is linked with your physical body so trauma will be still be felt by the user, but a reduced degree>

"Great". Alex groaned. Concentrating he rolled around as The Pitbull launched at him once more, claws extended and a feral grin spread across his masked face. Alex saw the attack and focused, taking to the air and causing the Pitbull to miss. Rourke was agile though and spun on his hell using him momentum to spin and leap in one fluid movement, grasping at Prime and yanking him out of the air.

Alex tried to raise a gauntlet but Rourke knocked it aside, grasping Primes throat and squeezing. "You really shouldn't have have put your super hero jammies on today pal! And you should never have messed with me!"

<Alert Omega Prime! Immediate Danger!>

With a snarl, The Pitbull lifted Omega Prime in the air and with a roar he sent the hero crashing through a concrete pillar and be crushed by a mountain of debris as a huge section of the roof crashed down upon him.


 
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"Alright, buddy, let's do this by the book," I say, hand on my hip as I face the cause of tonight's particular disturbance. He snarls - yes, snarls - at me and gets ready to charge. I get into a ready stance and leapfrog him as he bullrushes me. "So, what's your name?"

The fur-lover snorts. He's big on the sound effects. "Blackbear."

Well, that was to the point. "Okay, okay. And what is your business here tonight?"

"Kill!" He charges at me again, this time holding out his hands with those wicked claws. He stands a little taller, too. So, to compensate, I spin around him like something out of Madden. For a second, one of his claws nearly catches my shoulder, but I escape scratch-free.

"Citizens, you are my witnesses," I announce. "I attempted to reason with the perpetrator. I was met with violence." I throw up my fists. "By the bylaws set out by the Metropolis Convention regarding proper protocol in metahuman affairs, I am now authorized to use force."

Blackbear bares his teeth - which would be much more intimidating if he didn't have that *****ey goatee of his. "You!" Not much of a talker, this guy. He runs at me again. Apparently, his short term memory isn't the greatest. I brace myself. "Quiet!"

I ready myself, feeling the muscles in my legs tighten as I prepare to daringly leap over Blackbear's head. I wait until the last possible moment, and then I--

"Oof!"

Blackbear rams the side of his arm into my gut. Wind knocked out of me, I collapse in a heap on the ground. Blackbear raises the other arm and slashes me across the chest with his claws. The pain is searing and sharp.

As I feel the blood starting to soak the front of my costume, I will myself to roll away from the second slash attempt. I can't take too many of those. With enough breathing room between us, I check the first wound. Four gashes across my chest. They aren't incredibly deep, but they're bleeding pretty good.

Blackbear rips a mailbox out of the ground and tries to splatter me with it. I roll to the left, then to the right, each time narrowly dodging becoming sidewalk pizza. On Blackbear's third attempt, I throw out my feet and block the mailbox head-on (or foot-on, as it were). I let my legs charge up like a spring before pushing off, knocking Blackbear backwards and catapulting me into a backflip.

After landing on my feet, I bend backwards at the waist, Matrix-style, to avoid the mailbox - which Blackbear had just hurtled at me like a spear. It does some serious damage to the windshield of a parked car, though.

"Now, I know you said you were here to kill," I begin. I'm forced to leap up to a fire escape to dodge yet another charge from Blackbear. I jump down onto his shoulders, trying my best to get him into a headlock. "But if you wouldn't mind being more specific - in a few words, if that's what you're comfortable with."

Blackbear grunts, flailing his arms. Because of where I've positioned myself, he can't reach me easily. That's good because I don't like the idea of those claws digging into me. "Devil's. Rejects."

Devil's Rejects? He's here to kill the Devil's Rejects? "What? Did they eat your porridge? Start a forest fire? Steal your honey?" Blackbear finally shakes me loose and throws me into a stop sign.

"Dr. Saleen," Blackbear growls. "And other doctor."

I sigh. So much for that plan. I'm not going to glean any useful information from this dumb brute. "Listen, Berenstain. Charmin isn't going to sell itself, so I'm going to send you back to the forest." I finally get a chance to go on the offensive, peppering Blackbear with a relentless barrage of stinger blasts. "By way of prison, of course."

The attack works to perfection, causing Blackbear to cover his face and eyes and leave his body exposed. With his strength and those claws, I don't stand a chance in a long, drawn-out fight. I need to go for the knockout here. I hit Blackbear with a few quick jabs before doing my best Chuck Norris impersonation and delivering a sharp roundhouse kick to the stomach. The big man topples like a house of cards.

"Aww, man. I didn't even have a chance to use any teddy bear or gummi bear jokes."
 
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Isaac disappeared into the bedroom and emerged some time later in full social garb - Black suit and tie, with contrasting white shirt.

Renee was sufficiently impressed.

[BLACKOUT]“Still remember how to do a double-Windsor… So where’s your Mum?”[/BLACKOUT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“She’s already gone. She took a separate car.”[/FONT]

[BLACKOUT]“Oh… Is that because of earlier, with her..?”[/BLACKOUT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“Oh no. No, she was always going to take a separate car. Social circumstances kind of demand it with this kind of event. If I were younger or you weren’t coming along it probably would have been a bit different, but it’s no hassle.”[/FONT]

[BLACKOUT]“What? She doesn’t want me to go with…”[/BLACKOUT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]“No, that’s not it. You know how it is. Stupid social conventions. Just how it would seem if you came with us, that’s all.” [/FONT]

[BLACKOUT]“Fair enough.”[/BLACKOUT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif] He’s had to deal with enough stupid etiquette issues which made little practical sense back at school, so while he didn’t understand why, he accepted that it just wasn’t the done thing.[/FONT]

Life goes on, even if you don’t understand why. Just as death can come about to those who don’t understand why.
[/FONT]
OOC: This post will consist of both the standard third person narrative that I've been using to date for the first small section and the rest will be told in the first person from Isaac's own perspective.

IC:

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ISAAC FONTAINE - Man of No Pain

In transit

A hired black limousine carrying the formally dressed Isaac Fontaine and Renee Stevens cuts a path through Lost Haven traffic. Isaac, a man not easily stunned, has an expression that could not be described in any other way.

[BLACKOUT]“What?!?”[/BLACKOUT]

“You heard. It’s not like I’m happy about it. I’d just prefer it if you understood that because of that, it would make it difficult for me. I know you mean well, but please don’t.”

Isaac retreats within himself in stunned dejected solitude, shell-shocked from the bombshell Renee just dropped on him. But in order to fully understand what just happened here, maybe we’ll step back a good fifteen minutes and change the perspective, someone with a bit more intimate knowledge of the goings-on…

-----

My name is Isaac Fontaine, at least part of the time. An increasingly growing part of the time however I’m known by another name. The Lost Haven organisation known as the Guardians, the newspapers and general public in two cities know me as the Vigilante… The criminal element in these cities normally refer to me in person as either “Him!” or “The Vig-“… it’s normally about as much as they can get out before they’re on the floor.

But it’s not an easy life. Most of the time I’m lying my arse off to the people I care about most. You justify it as being a “lesser evil” since you’re protecting these people. More than you realise you lie to yourself. Because it takes a good person to be able to cast judgement in the way you do, but a good person wouldn’t do a lot of what it takes to do this job. At least “what it takes to do this job” if you’re doing it as just an ordinary Joe.

And that’s a big part about what’s going on here. A year ago I barely knew whether this Icon was a man or a myth, now I’d consider him one of my closest friends. I’ve no idea if he’d say the same about me, in all honesty we hardly ever talk. I guess it speaks more about my own social life than anything… But look back a year I was doing this on my own, with my own city. Small city, yes. Cooktown has only a million people in it. But my city none the less. I won’t say I was loved there, politicians and the media wouldn’t allow that much to be the case, but the 30% drop in crime since I started out there would be evidence of my effectiveness. But I’m not here to toot my own horn…

I found myself coming over to this city. Lost Haven. My second home now, although it’s eating more and more of my time just as the mask is eating more and more of my life. I came here because of a call from this girl I’m seeing, Renee Stevens, who’s right in the middle of all this I’m talking about now. Turned out to be a fateful thing though; her calling me over here, of all the things that could have happened while I was here… there was an alien invasion. Not only did it bring more of these guys like Icon… these metahumans they call them… but it united them in a cause, I threw my own hand in the ring as well. Partly because of my own previous experience in Cooktown eliminating the undesirable menace of crime and the other part being my own gross stupidity, stubbornness, call it what you will.

Anyway… some months later and something else is going down here. I’ve been seeing Renee since my first fateful trip to this city. In all honesty I can’t tell you how much is my own feelings for her (as Isaac, the man she knows) and how much is the fact that it’s convenient to this other part of me (Vigilante, the part which needs an excuse for frequent trips to Lost Haven to operate).

So yeah. I’m a jerk. I admit it. Am I a complete jerk? I don’t know. Because I have no idea just how much each part plays in this decision to be with her. I’m too honest with myself to deny that it’s a factor, though. I’d say that’s something but we all know that it’s little consolation to the girl.

Now it gets complicated… What’s that? You thought that was complicated enough? Yeah, you and me both. But it gets a little bit worse.

Her father just died. No, no, no… relax… I didn’t kill him. What? No, I’m not going to break up with her just after it happened. Give me a little credit. No, her father just died in a case I’m investigating myself on behalf of these Guardians I mentioned before. Now he was there as part of an upper class charity benefit, real silver spooner types. The kind of people who when they give at school charity drives they donate a new wing, or an entire new fleet of top-of-the-line fibreglass rowing vessels for the schools rowing team, rather than just new uniforms for the football team. You know the kind I mean. I mean I’m no pauper myself, but they’re a whole other level. So yes, he was at this charity benefit (organised by a group called ‘Together We Can’) which somewhat coincidentally was giving its proceeds to causes to benefit those worst effected in the alien invasion.

Where it does get worse though is that I’m about to piggyback on his cause a little with his daughter. It’s an idea I’ve had bouncing around in my head a little in the last few hours. See the way I figure it is, if I can come up with another alibi – another excuse for spending so long in this city and away from my home in Cooktown, then maybe it’ll ease the pressure on my relationship with Renee. I’ll be protecting her from possibly being used by me as a reason to be in this city and I’ll know that I’m only with her because I WANT to be with her. It clears everything up. Makes it simple… even if it is a little less than truthful in the way I’m going to go about it.

Now I probably could have picked a better time to bring it up than in the limo on the way to the funeral. Fair point. My foul. I’m the first to admit that I’m not the best at picking up social cues and understanding social etiquette. But in my own defence I think it’s only fair to give you a complete rundown on the discussion in full context…

[BLACKOUT]“So, I’ve been thinking…”[/BLACKOUT]

“Yes...”

Well, I wasn’t asking a question… but I suppose she may be a little eager because she’s been wanting me to get a place up here in the Haven for sometime now. “Give our relationship a fair chance with a stronger base” is how I think she phrased it. I know. 'Jerk'. In fairness living three lives isn’t exactly easy, but yeah it’s no excuse.

[BLACKOUT]“I think this was a really god thing your father was doing, with these ‘Together we can’ guys… and a lot of the time, when these big spending dignitaries pass, it’s a good chance to… it’s a good IDEA to create foundations that honour them and carry on their causes and as such their memory after they’re gone.”[/BLACKOUT]

“Isaac, what exactly are you saying?”

Fair point, Renee. I’m stumbling all over myself here… what the hell am I saying?

[BLACKOUT]“I just think it would be a good thing for the memory of your fathers life and his history of charitable donations if some kind of foundation was made in his honour. To continue in the spirit of giving that he showed in his life.”[/BLACKOUT]

Renee looked at me with a perplexed “what in the hell are you talking about?” expression.

[BLACKOUT]“I was wondering if you would mind if I started such a foundation in your father’s name. How would you feel about that?”[/BLACKOUT]

“Isaac…”

[BLACKOUT]“Yes?”[/BLACKOUT]

“He hated you.”

[BLACKOUT]“What?!?”[/BLACKOUT]

What the hell? He didn’t even know me. I never even met this guy. He hated me?

“From all the way back in school days. He was actually the driving force behind the push to get you expelled for that soccer brawl years back. He said you “tarnished the good name of Cornwall with your brutish thuggery’.”

Well, he probably wouldn’t want to know what I’ve been up to in the years since then…

“He kind of warmed to you in recent years a little since he heard we were seeing one another, but I think a big part of that was because he was betting we’d break up and he wanted me to know he’d still ‘been there’ for me all along.”

That sneaky old c***… Son of a f***ing b**** and I was going to start a … Wait a second…

[BLACKOUT]“That doesn’t have to matter. So he didn’t like me...”[/BLACKOUT]

“He hated you.” She corrected.

[BLACKOUT]“Whatever… So he hated me. He never really had a chance to know me, he was probably just being protective of his little girl like any father would be if they had a daughter as great as you… That doesn’t mean we can’t still do this in his honour.”[/BLACKOUT]

“But that’s the other thing… He didn’t give because he felt good doing it. Because he had a charitable heart. He did it because it was the socially expected thing to do and he made further business connections because of it. That’s why he was going to bring me along. To get me into that world too.”

“Frankly, and I want you to know that I say this whilst loving my father deeply, he wasn’t a particularly nice man…”

One last shot…

[BLACKOUT]“Well, yes. You love your father. So wouldn’t it be good to have him remembered this way? I can’t blame him for being protective of you.”[/BLACKOUT]

Surely she couldn’t refuse a straight charitable thought like this. Not the Renee I know. She’d agree if only out of some kind of sense of respect for the gesture.

“No.” She said firmly.

[BLACKOUT]“What?!?”[/BLACKOUT] I said, my jaw hanging down comically in stunned surprise. Boy, did I misread this one.

“You heard. It’s not like I’m happy about it. I’d just prefer it if you understood that because of that, it would make it difficult for me. I know you mean well, but please don’t.”

And so I sat there in stunned dejected solitude, shell-shocked from the bombshell Renee just dropped on me. The old coot hated me and because of that it would be too difficult for her to think fondly of her father if the man he hated did so much good in his name.

In his name… Hmm…

[BLACKOUT]“Well, what if I just made the foundation in honour of all of those lost in the Gala and not specifically for your father. I just think it’s a good cause and thought I’d name it after him because of my attachment to you. Surely you couldn’t have any issue with me setting up a foundation for these people?”[/BLACKOUT]

“Don’t they already have ‘Together We Can’ for that? Most of the people who died in the Gala Hotel wouldn’t exactly be in need of money… I mean there were some politicians and media members there but most were pretty well off.”

[BLACKOUT]“Yes, but whoever was responsible for this blast on the Gala Hotel… You can’t let their activism scare others off of giving to a good cause. The first act of the Gala Victims Foundation could be a major socialite fundraiser in a similar vein to the first. You can’t let the terrorists win, Renee…”[/BLACKOUT]

“I really don’t know if you’ve thought this through, Isaac…”

Truth be told, I hadn’t. But I needed this. I needed to know why I’m with this girl. For her sake and my own sanity.

But there wasn’t any time to argue further… the limo pulled up to the ceremony.

 
Previously

Back at LHPD headquarters, Pierce and Captain Johnson go about piecing together details of the dead man's life. I sit back and watch as they go to work. It doesn't take long to yield results.

"That name you gave me, Cayce, Madlove? Well I got a hit."

I lean against Pierce's desk and look over his shoulder and he pulls case files. "Madlove is one Reverend Madlove. Not sure on his real name, but he's a cult leader."

"Cult leader? Hmm, maybe a motive is coming together. I know whoever killed him wanted him to die and suffer. Maybe he didn't drink the kool-aid?"

"Well, Dante's family says he was trying to get out of Madlove's 'religion.'"

"Air quotes, I love it when you do the air quotes."

"What do we know about Madlove," Johnson asks as he comes over.

"Nothing, really," Pierce responds. "He's got some low budget TV show and radio program. Nothing criminal shows up in connection to his name, which is odd. Almost all cult leaders have some kind of record. Cons, petty thefts, things like that. He's clean....in fact, he doesn't even have a social security number. I can't find his real name...it's like the guy popped up out of nowhere over night."

"Alright," Johnson says. "Go out to his camp and meet with him. Maybe Cayce can get a reading off of him and see what's going on."

Pierce looks at me and I just shrug. "I call shotgun."

Pierce pulls his unmarked car into the parking lot of a pretty pedestrian church.

"Here we are."

"I thought you said this guy ran a cult? This doesn't exactly scream cult to me. It's not a tent, commune , or megachurch."

"Don't judge a book by it's cover," Pierce says as he climbs out of the car. I follow behind him up the steps into the church's vestibule.

"Why, hello there," a cheerful voice says from a side room. A man who looks a little too happy steps out an office and greets us. "Welcome to the Church of Madlove. What can I help you two gentlemen with today?"

Pierce pulls his badge out. "Sergeant Pierce, Major Case Squad. This is my associate, Edward Cayce. We're here to see the Reverend."

"I'm sorry, Sergeant, but the Reverend only sees people by appointment. He's counseled the chief of police before and helped him strengthen his affirmation in life and his walk with Christ, I'm sure he'd be able to do the same with you, but only by appointment."

"We're actually investigating a murder. A former follower of his, Mister Joseph Dante."

"Ah," the man says with a cool tone. "Mister Dante lost his way. Same really, but I can assist you with any questions you may have about his time with the Church of Madlove."

"No. We'd like to talk to Madlove himself," Pierce interjects. "If the Reverend isn't a witness, then he's a suspect."

"Well...let me see if he's available," the man says as he walks off in a huff.
 
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Cerberus
Revelations


I sit in a stupor inside the Eye of the Fates infirmary. It’s been weeks since my fight with Xerxes, and I’ve made national news for the first time since I put on the armor and became a hero and I have the bruises to match. Yet I don’t feel like a hero, and it has nothing to do with criminals or super powers.

After I was able to talk, I called Penny strait away and was given the rundown. She’s been dating one of the star football players at LHU, and the two of them met during the summer practices getting ready for the new season in September. He’s some hotshot wide receiver, and him and his brother are supposedly some of the fastest in the NCAA. I should be happy he’s on my team I guess, but the jealousy monster has already reared his ugly head inside of me and I almost find myself hoping he blows out his knee or something to that effect.

But I try to keep that out of my mind as I unpack basically all of my belongings into the Eye. I’ve made the infirmary into a makeshift apartment for myself for when I’m at school. Of course mom thinks it’s a terrible idea and sternly believes I won’t get any work done with the superhero world looming over my shoulder 24/7, but with some assurances from Chiron she finally caved. And with Sirius there to protect her, I’m not too worried about her. Besides, as Chiron has said, whatever is coming towards Lost Haven wants me, not my family.

It wants me.

The words echo in my head as I think them. While the conflict with Xerxes may have given me more confidence as a hero, it also awakened in my deep seeded doubts. How can I be expected to stand against someone who has killed plenty of my kind?

“Desmond,” Chiron’s voice calls from the entrance of the room, “come with me. We’re going on patrol.”

“Together?” I respond, surprised.

“Yes.”
 
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"God, Sean."

"It's really not as bad as it looks," I half-lie. It may not be as bad as it looks, but it sure stings. With the adrenaline of the fight gone, the injuries I sustained - including the gashes running across my chest - feel like they're on fire. No need to let Brooke see that, though. "One night of healing will take care of most of the hard work."

Brooke stares at the claw marks, both horrified and mesmerized. "Still, you should put some alcohol on that," she insists as she gets up to go to the bathroom. Her parents followed our lead and had a "date night" of their own, so the house is empty for now. Gives us time to patch up these wounds before anyone comes home.

I try to lie back, but as soon as I move sharp pains run through my chest. Wincing, I say, "Hey, you know, you handled yourself pretty well for a newbie." Brooke comes back into the bedroom holding a bottle of alcohol and some cotton swabs. "You stayed cool under pressure, you kept Vince and Abby occupied. Not bad."

Brooke starts wetting one of the cotton swabs with the alcohol. "Yeah, well, Jim has been texting me non-stop with tips and tricks. Hold still." She presses the cotton to my chest, and I yelp a little. She raises an eyebrow. "Really, tough guy? You're telling me it's not that bad, and yet the alcohol is what hurts?"

"Well, it stings."

"Speaking of Jim," Brooke begins, and I recognize the tone right away. She continues wiping the slashes, never looking up at me. "When, exactly, do you plan on telling him, Sean?"

I bite my lip. "Would you believe...sometime this week?"

Brooke stares into my eyes. "Tomorrow."

"...tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," she repeats forcefully.

The burning of the alcohol makes me wince once again, and I grab the cotton swab. "That's good," I assure her, tossing the swab into the trash can. "Do you have bandages or anything - in case this bleeds through?"

Brooke nods and puts the cap onto the alcohol bottle. She gets up and returns to the bathroom.

"Do I really have to tell him tomorrow? I mean, on a Saturday of all days?" Brooke comes back with the bandages, and I hold out my hand. "I'll take care of that." She tosses me the bandages, and I get right to work - just like I've trained myself to do.

"Sean, do you remember what we did here a week and a half ago?" Brooke asks, sitting down next to me and putting her hand on my knee. She smiles innocently.

I give a goofy grin. "I sure do..."

"If you want that to happen again, you tell Jim tomorrow."

I stare in disbelief. A week and a half into the most honored of all privileges, and she's already threatening to withhold it from me to get what she wants. She's good. "Tomorrow," I reluctantly agree. I tie off the bandage, leaving my chest feeling clean and patched up.

After I slip my shirt back on, Brooke leans her head against my shoulder. "I like them together," she remarks, referring to Abby and Vince.

I sigh. "I do, too."
 
OOC: Previously...

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Lost Haven
Bronze District
The Carnival Fair


It doesn't take long for the police and media to get to the Carnival Fair to see just what was going on as people's nightmares were becoming a living thing one at a time as Nightmare was raging through the city. I found out that his name is Samuel Cranston and the dude has one bad upbringing. One of the officers told me that they found his mother 15 minutes ago--what is left of her--ripped to shreds in her very own apartment home. And the DNA matches to Samuel. No wonder he fell victim to the Sin of Sloth but at the same time I cannot blame The Seven for him since Bath Kol and Father Damian told me that these villains that would be coming after me were simply drawn by The Seven for sharing the same strong embrace of said sins.

Bottom line is that Samuel Cranston like Sebastian Blake is going to be a face I don't think I've seen the last of. Great, I'm developing my own Rogues Gallery and the first two seemed nigh impossible to defeat. So that means I'm bound to get some easy, joke, weak villains down the road.

Right?

...Man I hope so.

"Archangel."

I turn around. Great, the Press.

"This is the first sighting of you since you last left.--"


"No comment."

"But, does that mean that you are back to helping to defend Lost Haven? What of The Guardians? Are you staying at the HQ? Does--"

"What do I have to do to get THROUGH to you people. STAY. OUT. OF. MY. LIFE."

I soar to the skies, being sure to do so faster than I need to to make a statement. I don't decide to fly too far, just far enough to be out of sight to not be followed.

Landing on the ground, I transform out of the Archangel State and walk through a small alleyway into the street acting casual. The second I cross the street, I see two men in black suits walking my way. My first thought is it is S.T.R.I.K.E. agents so I veer to the right and walk down Avenue H and as I'm heading that way two more men in black suits are also coming the opposite direction.

Great. I just saved the day and looks like Mr. Anderson intends on trying to lock me up and play 'Doctor Doctor' with me and his scientists. Too many people around for me to use my Earth manipulation powers, dang.

"Mr. Angelo."

"Who wants to know."

"There is no denying who you are, Mr. Angelo, you made sure of that when you foolishly removed your helmet for all the world to see."


"Hey, listen buddy, if you want to come at me and ask questions the first thing you don't want to do is bring something like that up and piss me off."

I'm now surrounded by four men to the front and back of me. But I do not see anything to indicate they are with S.T.R.I.K.E. but they approach me and speak like they are clearly working for some sort of group. What now?

"Hostility is never the in the mission of Opus Dei, Mr. Angelo."

"...Opus Dei? The Catholic Organization?"

"Precisely."

One of them men flashes me his badge, and I see the Opus Dei emblem: the Seal of the Prelature of the Holy Cross and Opus. Ok, this is taking for an interesting twist of things. So what's the Opus Dei--an organized founded in Spain and currently based in Italy--want with me?

"So...uh...how can I...assist you?"

"The Holy Father would like to see you."

"The...WHAT?"

Holy...er--wow. The Pope himself wants to see me? Uh, well, I mean, I guess...I cannot really say no to that.
 
Previously


Pierce pulls his unmarked car into the parking lot of a pretty pedestrian church.

"Here we are."

"I thought you said this guy ran a cult? This doesn't exactly scream cult to me. It's not a tent, commune , or megachurch."

"Don't judge a book by it's cover," Pierce says as he climbs out of the car. I follow behind him up the steps into the church's vestibule.

"Why, hello there," a cheerful voice says from a side room. A man who looks a little too happy steps out an office and greets us. "Welcome to the Church of Madlove. What can I help you two gentlemen with today?"

Pierce pulls his badge out. "Sergeant Pierce, Major Case Squad. This is my associate, Edward Cayce. We're here to see the Reverend."

"I'm sorry, Sergeant, but the Reverend only sees people by appointment. He's counseled the chief of police before and helped him strengthen his affirmation in life and his walk with Christ, I'm sure he'd be able to do the same with you, but only by appointment."

"We're actually investigating a murder. A former follower of his, Mister Joseph Dante."

"Ah," the man says with a cool tone. "Mister Dante lost his way. Same really, but I can assist you with any questions you may have about his time with the Church of Madlove."

"No. We'd like to talk to Madlove himself," Pierce interjects. "If the Reverend isn't a witness, then he's a suspect."

"Well...let me see if he's available," the man says as he walks off in a huff.


I could not get my mind off that human in black. Was it human? It knew my name—my proper name. Have they found me? Have they finally finished scouring universe after universe and managed to detect my presence here?

“Reverend?”

“Not now.”

“There are people here to see you, Reverend.”

“I said not now

“It’s the police, Reverend. They have questions about Dante.”

“….Let them in,” I said, sighing.

He nodded and left the office momentarily, returning with a pair of lawmen.

“And how can I help you gentlemen?” I said with a warm, welcoming smile.
 
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