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

[Hound55]

Isaac watched the rat and saw a hidden truth. It was funny, but he kept his laugh bottled up. Funny. Funny how we view things from a very human-centric point of view. Well, maybe not quite so funny when you consider that we ARE human. But funny how warped that view can be at times.

The rat. A generally excepted term for someone who acts with deception. Someone who is less than straight up. Yet the rat was the one in the room playing his hand the straightest. He wanted food? He went for food. He wanted to sleep? He’d sleep. He wants to sit on a table and lick his nads clean? Well… you get the point. Simple clear motives which he’d play straight. So how did it get the reputation for being otherwise?

Manipulation. Acting one way to draw a reaction that you can exploit. Where did he learn that? Certainly not from the rat. Isaac’s mind went further back to a time when things were simpler. Perhaps not the time he’d learned to be manipulative in an abstract sense, but a key lesson in using it practically.

Nostalgia brought back the fond scent of liniment, perspiration and Vaseline. He sat on top of the world on a small stool. Heavy hands weighted by leather and tape and flashing lights coming from the darkness. On the other side of the world sat a far large boy, his name was Jimmy “Boom-Boom” Bollimore and he was the Terrarian Schoolboy Heavyweight Champ. Flash-bulbs went off all around them from the darkness of the un-lit stands as if they were the stars that glimmered upon the pair in their lonely world. It would be the last time the pair would sit, and they heard their final messages and took their last treatments.

It was a special bout, wouldn’t count on their regular win/loss records but in a way it meant more than a regular win anyway. Isaac had to sign off specifically for this bout, as the Schoolboy Boxing Association needed desperately to cling to their unblemished record. It was a cross-weight bout and one which would be scored in a professional style as opposed to the regular amateur “punching for points” style that regular fights were held in.

Isaac’s trainer’s voice echoed as if it came from another world, his right eye half closed over from a shot in the third. Isaac breathed deep and long and his head rolled on his neck almost uncontrollably from exhaustion.

“Well, you’re making a mess of this one aren’t you? What did we talk about before the fight? Work the damn body! If you did the work in the early rounds you’d be all over him by now! Now you’ve got your work cut out for you! He’s just been covering up because he knows he’s got you by those early rounds!”

[BLACKOUT]“Ah you kibbing be?!”[/BLACKOUT] Isaac’s voice obscured by the mouthguard that had been wedged in his gums.

[BLACKOUT]“It’s da last damn rounb, and you want me to work the body NOW?!”[/BLACKOUT] “Hey! If you did it earlier the work would’ve been done by now! Spit! You work the body he’ll open up.” His trainer removed his guard and held the bucket up for him.

“Now what are you going to do?!”

Isaac spat and took the opportunity with the mouthguard out to speak clearly.

[BLACKOUT]“I’m going to knock him the hell out!”[/BLACKOUT]

“And how are you going to do that?” The mouthguard was wedged back into Isaac’s head.

Isaac sighed and answered. [BLACKOUT]“By working the body til he opens up and shows me the win…”[/BLACKOUT]

“’Bout damn time!”

The bell goes from somewhere outside and Isaac finds himself back on his feet with no memory of how he got there. On instinct alone he floats towards the bigger boy, who does likewise. Bollimore circles just outside of range and covers up again, raising monstrous forearms that make him reminiscent of a praying mantis. He’d been getting by on clearly won early rounds which Isaac had lost through his own stupidity – not a rare occurrence, but he’d never done it against an opponent with this big a weight advantage before.

Isaac stepped in for another jab which ricocheted impotently off of Bollimore’s arms.

“NO! Work him, dammit!”

“Boom Boom” tried to counter-punch off of Isaac’s jab but the length of the fight was too much for him, swinging wildly as Isaac circled out. The opening was too much for Isaac to not take advantage of, however, and he unleashed a heavy hook to the body which took the air out of Bollimore. Caving from the force of the first shot, Isaac opened up with repeated hooks to the heavyweight’s rib-cage. A left just above the belt shook him and "Boom Boom" leant over further exposing the right. Isaac didn't let the opportunity go past.

He did however let a hook go, with all of his weight behind it. And as it connected the crack of Bollimore's rib breaking could be heard five rows back. The sudden sharp exhalation that followed immediately afterwards could be heard almost 20 rows back... and the moan, heart-breaking yet muffled by his own guard, they claimed could be heard in the nosebleeds.

Brilliant acoustics...

In an earlier round the referee would have doubtless stopped the fight, but since this was the last he was obviously not going to stop it unless Isaac looked to exploit. Jimmy managed to circle out and get space and had dropped his guard to protect his ribs. His massive forearms were almost large enough to protect his ribs whilst still covering his head up.

Almost.

Isaac strode in low as if to hunt the broken rib and Boom Boom's guard dropped even more, he stuck a short hook in to probe the body and keep the guard low as a decoy... but then he rose up. A small opening became a window. The window became a cavern. And the cavern became so large he'd imagine the echo from this punch would never stop.

The smaller Isaac rose up and fired a right cross, with every gram of his weight behind it, directly into the young heavyweight's eye. His head snapped back from the force of the blow and he was unconscious before he hit the mat.

The ref called the fight before he got to '6'. It wouldn't have mattered if he went to '15'.

"The winner by knockout, and still undefeated champion. The UNDISPUTED POUND FOR POUND Schoolboy Champion of Terraria... Isaac "Iced Veins" Fontaine!"

A few minutes later Jimmy Bollimore regained consciousness very much the worse for wear. After going to the hospital it was revealed that he had a broken rib and a moderate concussion. He had previously considered turning professional after school, but had since changed his mind. His parents were particularly pleased with this decision.

Work the body til the guard drops and THEN go for the head... That had been his method. Not an unethical strategem in the world of boxing. A more ethical means for his gains than his friend Tony Morris used for his. Later it was revealed that Tony had set up an underground book on the fight, offering irresistably good odds on Bollimore.

And they had the audacity to call those who are deceptive "rat", and use "humane" as a synonym for "kindness" or "compassionate".

He looked back at the rat again, still cleaning itself. What felt like minutes was only seconds.

Funny...

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Dylan hops into his Lamborghini and begins to drive away from the Towers parking lot.

He sees mayhem and chaos erupting in the street in particular a bus careening out of control.

Dylan backs up into the parking area and gets out of his car. He stays in the shadows observing.

I suppose I could delay my departure to the Health club a little longer. Gives me chance to see which of these meta-powered fools show up to do their save the day act. Not to mention ever since I came back I've maintained a low-profile. Make them think that I'm not using my powers for now and I'm content staying out of the lime-light. Those fools. Who knows maybe even she will be here at some point.

He pulls out a Cuban Cigar and lights it.

My father might be right In chaos there is opportunity....let's put that theory to the test.

 

[Erin]

The world around her turns black as Pinup focuses her energy into the visions. It seems to work. Hazard is sufficiently distracted as he tries to fight off the words the twisting corpses shriek. He grabs his head in agony while the visions grow, clutching and clawing at him mercilessly. He screams helplessly and Pinup's eyes widen.
“He can't take anymore.” She thinks. “This is too much. He'll break if you keep this up.”
Pinup tries to focus on pulling the beasts back. They shrink slightly, perhaps, but continue torturing Hazard.
“Stop!” Her mind races and she feels trapped, unable to extricate herself from the nightmare she has created. “STOP!” Her brain screams, but to no avail. Though the rational side of her mind knows she must end the vision and spare Hazard from further torment, she is held firmly, trapped inside the illusion with him. Her body begins to shiver as her adrenaline shoots into overdrive.
“STOP THIS!” She forces her eyes closed as she tries to break the connection she has formed with the former agent. “SNAP OUT OF IT!”
A pain shoots through her, as though many thousands of cords are being pulled taught and snapped within her brain as she forces herself to break the connection. It's clear Hazard is feeling much the same pain as he writhes, howling in torment. Her muscles constrict and lock, sending pain signals shooting through her spine. She hears a woman screaming, unaware it is she. There is a man's shout from somewhere far away and the feeling of arms around her, hands prying at her arms. The connection breaks with a final surge and a wave of calm washes over her. What follows seems to play out like scenes from a silent movie played at half-speed. Blinding light tears through the sky as the heat of flames claw at her skin. Hazard falls to the ground and two strange women soar overhead. Even the Blue Blur seems to be in slow motion as the group makes a retreat toward the headquarters.
Pinup feels herself hoisted from the ground, the injured S.T.R.I.K.E agent she had been tending slipping from his resting place against her knees and falling back upon the pavement. She watches him grip his arm in pain as he thuds to the ground, then steadily grows smaller as Michael moves her away from the scene.
“Wait.” She mutters quietly, her alertness quickly returning. “Wait, wait!” She struggles against Michael's grasp, trying to break free and return to the street. She pushes away from him, but it is too late as she is corralled through the door to the Guardians fortress by the Blue Blur, who is bringing up the rear of the group.
“There are injured people out there!” She protests helplessly as the doors close behind them. She watches the closed door, as though willing herself to see through it. She knows S.T.R.I.K.E will undoubtedly tend to their own wounded, but certainly Hazard's attack had injured countless others. Though she tries to tell herself a retreat was wise, standing within the safety of the headquarters' walls seems too much like hiding away while others need help.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

From behind his desk, Director Anderson looks over minute by mi nute updates on the evenings operations. Several small raids have brought in 2 dozen potentially dangerous metas to S.T.R.I.K.E custody.

Unfortunately, the Guardian known as Vigilante escaped apprehension and his whereabouts are unknown. However, S.T.R.I.K.E agents have most of the other Guardians surrounded at their base downtown...or they were until former agent Washington decided to run roughshot through the blockade as well as the Guardians themselves...until he was subdued.

But it wasn't without casualties.

13 S.T.R.I.K.E agents killed, another 2 dozen injured. Yet his agents maintain their blockade. His men are dedicated to the job, and to him. Anderson smiles as he looks over the reports again, before taking his cell phone from his pocket and dialing a number.

"Marcus, it's Anderson. Pull the forces back from the Guardian Headquarters." Anderson says as he listens to Ryder's shocked response questioning the move...something that Marcus has done far too much of as of late.

"No Marcus, they've done their jobs. We've got everything we need. Now pull our people back and return to base. That's an order." Over the phone he can hear a hint of protest and Marcus' voice, but eventually he relents, and orders the men at the blockade to pull back.

And Anderson knows that tonight's operations managed to accomplish more than taking some more dangerous metas off the streets...it's given him the ammunition he needs to escalate this war to the next level.

 

[Blacklight]

Chapter 14: Artistic Talent...



Mere moments after the decision that I would pursue a career in superheroics was made, the room of which my friends and I resided went dead silent. The truth is, the three of us were having a hard time figuring out where to start. I mean, becoming a superhero isn't as simple as filling out a job application or taking a test. This was much more complex a situation...

So when my mind failed me, I decided to take a trip into the wiki database in my brain that was my knowledge of comic books.

Batman. Superman. Spider-Man... hell even Kick-Ass all started somewhere. Now, I realize that they're beings of fiction, but that doesn't make what they've become and the legacies that spawned from their creations and success any less real. So, like Siegel and Shuster, Kane, Lee and Millar, or any comic book writer who's created a superhero of their own did when they made these characters, I needed to go through a process. A creative process. One that starts with me envisioning the character in my head and what he looks like. And not just any look, either. An iconic look.


That's when it hit me...

"I'm gonna need a costume." I stated bluntly, breaking the silence.

"Any idea what you want it to look like?" Ryan asked.

"Nope. Not a clue," I immediately responded, telling by the look Ryan was giving me that he expected that answer, "...but that's where Jess comes in." I finished as I outstretched my arm in her direction, bringing Ryan's attention over to her.

Having been paying only half attention as me and Ryan were talking, she soon began realizing I was pointing to her, then looked over her shoulders to make sure I wasn't pointing at her, before looking back at us in confusion.

"What? Me?" she asked, pointing at herself as I lowered my arm.

"Yes, you. Jess, I want you to help me design a costume."

"Why? You can't do it yourself?"

"I need someone who can work with me to make sure the look we come up with is "iconic". Someone with more experience in art than me. I've only taken like two classes. You're more experienced. Besides... We're designing an outfit here. I know nothing of fashion, so I will be needing a girl's insight." I reasoned.

"I'm an aspiring tattoo artist, not a f***ing costume designer!"

"But, Jess..." I whined.

"Okay, fine! I'll go get my sketchbook..."

"Awesome! Thanks, Jess!" I thanked, hugging her before she exited the room in search for her drawing book.

With Jess looking for her book, I turned to Ryan, who had his brow raised.

"What do you plan on making this costume out of? Regular fabric? Last I checked invulnerability wasn't one of your powers, Jon. You'll be dead in like... a day." He joked.

"Stupidity isn't one of my powers, either, Ryan. I know this costume's gonna need to be made of something sturdy if I'm gonna be crime-busting in it," I began as I cleverly concocted a plan. "...Luckily, we both know someone capable of manufacturing such a costume."

"You thinking of who I'm thinking?" Ryan asked, smiling upon realization of who I was referring to.

"Indeed, I am." I answered, smiling back.

Then, in synch, we both said the name.

"Josh..."
"Josh..."

Josh Montanez: Car Mechanic by day. Engineer of the incredible and prodigal inventor by... rest of the day, I guess.

Upon the end of our little side-conversation, Jess had returned, sketchbook in hand.

"Alright, Jon. Let's get to it... Any ideas?" she asked as she pressed the tip of her pencil to the paper.

I couldn't help but smile as she asked me that, because something had already come to mind.


"Yeah. I'm thinking something... black."

* * *​

 

[NiteMare Shape]

As I soar through the night sky above Lost Haven, the arguement between myself and Keira keeps playing over and over again in my mind. It eats away at me, seeing her faith in me diminished the way it seems to have been. And she's not alone.

Anderson's smear campaign is working. More and more frequently, the very people that we put our lives on the line to protect look at us with distrust. More and more seem to be listening to Anderson's anti-meta propaganda.

Suddenly, I'm forced to bring my attention back to the here and now as I hear something in the distance...

Explosions.

Coming from...Guardians' Headquarters.

I increase my speed as I head off in the direction of GHQ, and that's when something else gets my attention...the sound of squealing tires.

Now what? I think to myself as I look in the direction of the newest disaster...

I look on in horror as I see a city bus careening out of control.

The Guardians are going to have to go it alone...I think to myself as I take off toward the out of control bus.

As I approach the speeding bus, I can hear the cries of the panicked passengers from several stories overhead. I lower my head and accelerate toward the out of control vehicle, zipping past the windows where I can see the looks of horror on each of their faces.

Once I reach the front of the bus, I take a hold of the front fender and dig my feet into the pavement while pushing back against the bus. At first, nothing really happens, but after several seconds, I can feel the bus' momentum slowing, until it eventually comes to a stop.

I race around to the side and pull open the door, which appears to be slightly jammed and step inside.

"Is everyone alright?" I ask, and once I get a response from the passengers that they are in fact alright, I take off again, making my way towards Guardians' Headquarters.

 

[trustyside-kick]

“There are injured people out there!” She protests helplessly as the doors close behind them. She watches the closed door, as though willing herself to see through it. She knows S.T.R.I.K.E will undoubtedly tend to their own wounded, but certainly Hazard's attack had injured countless others. Though she tries to tell herself a retreat was wise, standing within the safety of the headquarters' walls seems too much like hiding away while others need help.

"They were closing in on us. There were some innocents in the way that Matt here was taking care of but with Hazard taken down that threat is neutralized. Plus we are S.T.R.I.K.E.'s target. And if I'm beginning to understand Anderson's game like I think I am, he's gonna use what just happened against us and help what injured innocents are left."

I take a seat on the couch, lowering my head as I gather my thoughts. To be honest though, Pinup is more right than I am. We're supposed to be heroes, for goodness sake. And ever since all this messed stated with S.T.R.I.K.E, we've been slipping.

"I can picture it now. The final piece he needs for his smear campaign he has been building. And the more we try to put the fire out, the more we feed it. It's like the water we are trying to use has turned into gasoline."

"What the hell has gotten into you, dude?"

"Huh--HEY!"

Didn't expect that. Normally the type of thing would just be for a joke, but Matt just used his super speed to super knock me upside my head to....what I can only guess 'knock some sense into me'. I get up, blood boiling as I await his explanation.

"Seriously, man. You leave the Guardians for a while, to handle crap that instead of explaining to us you just say how 'you need to handle it alone' from what Icon told me because, oh yea...you forgot to tell your best pal about...and you...you've changed. What the hell happened to the optimistic light jokester?"

"I'm not as naive anymore. That's what. And I can't stomach the idea of being what people expect of me to be. I'm not perfect. I'm not a saint. I'm not a damn angel. In the end, I'm just a man. Something I think everyone forgets when I pop the 'ol transformation of mine and they see the flashy white firey wings. I've been tossed around in a barrel of--"

"There you go again, man! Will you quit complaining how crappy things are and have been for you the past year? Nut up or shut up! Your Faith go down the drain too you sappy bastard?"

I stand up, face to face with Matt. I never wanted to hit him so much in my life. However I don't for two reasons. One is that he really doesn't know anything that I've been trying to deal with with The Seven coming after me and two...because he could easily dodge it with his superspeed since I'm powerless at the moment.

"You know right now...I'm starting to forget how it is the two of us ever became friends. Always quick to react without thinking. That's always annoyed me about you to be honest. Fine, let's look past my baggage right now in my life and take a look at yours. Yours is all a bunch of glamour and glory right now. It must have been 'such a rough time for you'. How's that reality TV show going?"

"Gentlemen."

"WHAT?"
"WHAT?"

We both turn to Kensei, and he points with his sword one of the computer monitors relaying the cameras footage of what's going on outside our HQ.

"Marcus, it's Anderson. Pull the forces back from the Guardian Headquarters." Anderson says as he listens to Ryder's shocked response questioning the move...something that Marcus has done far too much of as of late.

"No Marcus, they've done their jobs. We've got everything we need. Now pull our people back and return to base. That's an order." Over the phone he can hear a hint of protest and Marcus' voice, but eventually he relents, and orders the men at the blockade to pull back.

And Anderson knows that tonight's operations managed to accomplish more than taking some more dangerous metas off the streets...it's given him the ammunition he needs to escalate this war to the next level.

I turn to Matt who still looks over at the screen as do the others.

"Look at that. S.T.R.I.K.E. is pulling back their forces. Kinda like how I predicted? And what's this? Medics starting to pull into the perimeter? Huh, interesting."

He turns to me, and simply walks away. The others look at me still trying to make sense of the little feud Matt and I just had. I sigh heavily, and start to walk the opposite direction Matt did heading for the fitness room.

"I'm useless at this point anyway so if you guys want to coordinate what to do without me be my guest."

 

[Erin]

Pinup watches the spectacle, hands on her hips.
“Children.” She thinks as she rolls her eyes. Movement over Matt's shoulder pulls her attention away from the pissing contest of “whose life is harder” and she turns her attention to the computer screen. Kensei seems to have noticed it as well, and the pair of them watch as S.T.R.I.K.E vans give way to emergency response vehicles. The siege appears to have been called off. Pinup moves closer to the screen, trying to make sense of everything as Kensei tries to get the attention of the bickering men.

"Gentlemen."

"WHAT?"
"WHAT?"

We both turn to Kensei, and he points with his sword one of the computer monitors relaying the cameras footage of what's going on outside our HQ.



I turn to Matt who still looks over at the screen as do the others.

"Look at that. S.T.R.I.K.E. is pulling back their forces. Kinda like how I predicted? And what's this? Medics starting to pull into the perimeter? Huh, interesting."

He turns to me, and simply walks away. The others look at me still trying to make sense of the little feud Matt and I just had. I sigh heavily, and start to walk the opposite direction Matt did heading for the fitness room.

"I'm useless at this point anyway so if you guys want to coordinate what to do without me be my guest."​

Pinup glances over her left shoulder as Matt makes his retreat into the depths of Guardian Headquarters, followed by an equally bitter retreat by Michael in the opposite direction. Glancing over her right shoulder at Michael's back as he stomps out of the room. She returns her gaze to the computer screen, watching medics tend to injured victims of Hazard's attack. The faint scent of iron wafts up from her shirt, the front of which is soaked with the S.T.R.I.K.E agent's blood and clings uncomfortably to her. She looks down at herself as she realizes her hands and arms are streaked with caked, dried blood. It is trapped under her fingernails and around her cuticles, turning her fingertips a sickly rust brown. She needs to clean up. At length, Pinup turns to the others, who appear to be watching the computers intently.

“Much good these kids will be in their current state.” She folds her arms, ignoring the wet slimy feeling of the blood-soaked shirt against her skin. “I'm going to clean up. I might talk some sense into Michael while I'm at it,” She turns and makes her way in the direction of Michael's exit, finishing her sentence over her shoulder. “if you want to handled Speedy.”

Pinup wanders through the halls, wondering how she is going to clean up and wishing she hadn't lost her car and, consequently, the few clothes she had managed to escape with during the Bradley District raids. She passes a doorway, catching a glimpse of Michael, still fuming, inside the room. Pausing her search for a shower and a fresh set of clothes, she stops in the door, folding her arms and leaning against the frame as she watches Michael critically.
“What in God's name was that about?” She demands directly.​

 

[trustyside-kick]

Pinup wanders through the halls, wondering how she is going to clean up and wishing she hadn't lost her car and, consequently, the few clothes she had managed to escape with during the Bradley District raids. She passes a doorway, catching a glimpse of Michael, still fuming, inside the room. Pausing her search for a shower and a fresh set of clothes, she stops in the door, folding her arms and leaning against the frame as she watches Michael critically.
“What in God's name was that about?” She demands directly.

A few seconds pass before I realize that she isn't going to leave and just let me be. Sitting on one of the workout benches in the fitness room, I lean back, hands clasped behind my head as I turn my head to the right at the reflective mirror wall. As I reply to Pinup rather than look at her, my eyes are entirely fixated on me as I can't help but shake this crap feeling.

"...What's your favorite day of the week?"

 

[Erin]

A few seconds pass before I realize that she isn't going to leave and just let me be. Sitting on one of the workout benches in the fitness room, I lean back, hands clasped behind my head as I turn my head to the right at the reflective mirror wall. As I reply to Pinup rather than look at her, my eyes are entirely fixated on me as I can't help but shake this crap feeling.

"...What's your favorite day of the week?"

Pinup frowns, arching an eyebrow and trying to guess where he's headed with this.
"I don't know." She shakes her head and shrugs. "Monday, I guess. Why?"

 

[trustyside-kick]

Pinup frowns, arching an eyebrow and trying to guess where he's headed with this.
"I don't know." She shakes her head and shrugs. "Monday, I guess. Why?"

"Huh. Not the answer I expected. Most people hate Mondays. Me personally? It's an ok day."

I turn my head, looking at the ceiling as I recall a pleasant past-time of mine.

"Mine used to be Saturday. It'd be the day I would unwind, and even if I somehow had creator's block the entire week...I could count on Saturday to come along, and cut me loose. Then that creative rut would be gone and my inspiration would return to me. I could paint one...sometimes even two full paintings--start to finish--in that one day I would be so inspired. Then I got these blessings and powers and...well Tuesday replaced my Saturday. Because it's the day I walk entirely as a man. Was that one day that I could feel like my old self. Though the inspirations never came quite as well as Saturday used to for me."

I get up from the workout bench, and walk over to the mirror wall, standing right in front of it. Taking a good look in that mirror for a few seconds, I stare at myself. Making sure that I am who I think I am still. It's all...hard to process. Has been. This...feeling at the pit of my gut that I've yet to express to anyone yet.

I turn around, facing Pinup directly and slowly walk towards her as I talk with my gestures following suit as I continue to explain myself.

"What happened earlier with Matt, well...I can see how it look. Because I let his words get to me. I know I didn't handle the situation right. I just hate it when people are quick to judge, you know? He has been one of my closest friends since we started this team and lately I've been rather...'the lone ranger' type of dynamic. I should've recalled that he wouldn't know any of the new crap I've been feeling. Before I get to that exact thing bugging me, I need to tell you a few things since we're still fairly new to each other."

I'm now face to face with Pinup, and I think I might be making her a bit uncomfortable with my tone. I can't help it. Nor can I change it. She wanted to know what's up...well this is what is up. I'm...tired of it all. Been pushed a lot but...I just want a break from all of this. And with this S.T.R.I.K.E. crap and The Seven after me...I haven't had the time to really think this through.

Taking her hand as I think she just might be somewhat starting to understand as the expression on her face shifts, I caress it as I continue.

"I've been in the presence of angels, I'm actually half angel/half human, and I've witnessed their mannerisms first hand. They're...cold. Not in that they are ruthless or anything...but that sort of cold-hearted stone type of vibe. You know? They don't really smile or express any emotions...and they are entirely devout to their cause. Though it is how they are designed to be. To not have that sense of will that regular people take for granted every day. So...where do I stand?"

Gently I let go of her hand, and for a split second I'm at a loss for words. I can't answer my own question. Words try to form, and I must look like an idiot as murmurs come from mouth at first before actual words do.

"Put through constant sacrifice, suffering the more I try to cling on to what makes me me...what makes me human. Am I not allowed to have what I want? Is it wrong for me to feel this way? Then I ask myself...does it make me selfish to feel? Then I get the crazy idea of just embracing my divinity more...accept it all more, ever since a little 'upgrade' I got...and lately I've felt like every time I've been in the Archangel State...a little bit of me is slipping away as I allow myself to become lost in the divinity of it all. Here I am...standing in a fitness room of the Guardians HQ on a Tuesday. And I've never felt so weak in my normal 'human' body. Never felt so dependent on the Archangel State. That's never happened to me before. And that's the problem. At first I thought it was just because there were still innocents out there and I couldn't help them. It's not. Now I know that it's not. I...feel like I'm suffering withdrawals. It's like my worst fear is becoming a reality. I-I...well, I--Damnit!""

Turning away, I slam my fist into the nearby punching bag.

It goes flying throughout the fitness room, smashing at the opposing wall. The second that I remember that I retain a small portion of strength while out of the Archangel State ever since that incident with Goddess, for a moment I feel better again. Before I realize what that means and then I quickly feel sick to my stomach again.

 

[Erin]

Pinup listens calmly as he explains himself. She watches the punching bag fly across the room, landing with a crash as it knocks over some free weights. Sand spills out of a ripped seam, making a shushed tinkling noise as it strikes a metal weight. Her expression softens and she sighs.
"I don't know where you fit," She admits softly "in the grand scheme of life...Earth...heaven, whatever. I don't know." She meets his gaze levelly. "But I do know there is a room of people back there who not only want but need you on their side, and a lot of other innocent meta-humans who don't realize yet that they'll be needing people like you."

Pinup watches Michael steadily, unsure if he is really hearing anything she says. She sighs, taking her hand back and folding her arms once again. "Look...Maybe you are losing your humanity. Maybe your deepest fear is coming true, but answer me this:" She arches an eyebrow as she asks pointedly "how does sulking in here while S.T.R.I.K.E. mounts an attack help any of that?"

There is an uncomfortable silence as she watches his expression shift.
"Well, when you figure that out, you let me know. I have to clean up." She pushes off the door frame with her shoulder, turning on her heel and continuing down the hallway, once again in search of a shower and fresh clothes. She looks down at her shirt. The blood has coagulated, staining the fabric brown and burgundy. She continues examining the blood as she rounds the corner, colliding full force with -
"Icon." Pinup looks shocked and relieved to see him. She tilts his head, trying to read the look of shock and concern on his face, before it suddenly dawns on her. She looks back down at her shirt, then up to him. "Oh, it's not mine." She explains. "An agent was bleeding. Possible severed Branchial artery. It's not like that - I didn't do it." She adds quickly, aware of the unfortunate track record she is garnering for herself this evening. "I wrapped him up."

 

[trustyside-kick]

Edit: Post removed.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Dylan extinguishes his cigar and sees the wounded on the street.

Poor fools well sometimes things jsut happen that way.

He starts to leave but then sees the media coverage start to pick up.

Well maybe it's time to let the people, and certain metas know that I'm back.

Dylan walks over to one of the medics and asks, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

The medic relies, "Not sure Mr. Chambers maybe as a gopher for us."

Dylan pauses for a moment.

Gopher? Yeah right.

He then says, "I would be more effective as someone to be a spokesperson and keep the media at bay."

The medic says, "Oh yeah we could use someone like you to keep the media at bay as much as possible."

Dylan nods and says, "Anything I can to help."

Dylan heads towards the media and naturally they converge on him

He says, "Ladies & Gentlemen of the press I'll be glad to function as spokesperson for the moment. In our hour of need we need to keep in mind that...."

Dylan praises the medics and volunteers and uses carefully chosen words to place the blame on the heroes.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Pinup listens calmly as he explains himself. She watches the punching bag fly across the room, landing with a crash as it knocks over some free weights. Sand spills out of a ripped seam, making a shushed tinkling noise as it strikes a metal weight. Her expression softens and she sighs.
"I don't know where you fit," She admits softly "in the grand scheme of life...Earth...heaven, whatever. I don't know." She meets his gaze levelly. "But I do know there is a room of people back there who not only want but need you on their side, and a lot of other innocent meta-humans who don't realize yet that they'll be needing people like you."

Pinup watches Michael steadily, unsure if he is really hearing anything she says. She sighs, taking her hand back and folding her arms once again. "Look...Maybe you are losing your humanity. Maybe your deepest fear is coming true, but answer me this:" She arches an eyebrow as she asks pointedly "how does sulking in here while S.T.R.I.K.E. mounts an attack help any of that?"

There is an uncomfortable silence as she watches his expression shift.
"Well, when you figure that out, you let me know. I have to clean up." She pushes off the door frame with her shoulder, turning on her heel and continuing down the hallway, once again in search of a shower and fresh clothes. She looks down at her shirt. The blood has coagulated, staining the fabric brown and burgundy. She continues examining the blood as she rounds the corner, colliding full force with -
"Icon." Pinup looks shocked and relieved to see him. She tilts his head, trying to read the look of shock and concern on his face, before it suddenly dawns on her. She looks back down at her shirt, then up to him. "Oh, it's not mine." She explains. "An agent was bleeding. Possible severed Branchial artery. It's not like that - I didn't do it." She adds quickly, aware of the unfortunate track record she is garnering for herself this evening. "I wrapped him up."

The sight of Pinup covered in gore is more of a shock to the system than it should be, taking into account the carnage that I saw outside of the headquarters. After the initial surprise wears off, I find myself relieved that she isn't hurt.

I can see that she is still somewhat nervous around me, that she almost expects me to put her through a wall at any moment because of what happened earlier at the club. I try to put her at easy as best as I can with an awkward smile, and I try to take the edge out of my tone as I speak.

"So...what'd I miss?"

 

[Erin]

The sight of Pinup covered in gore is more of a shock to the system than it should be, taking into account the carnage that I saw outside of the headquarters. After the initial surprise wears off, I find myself relieved that she isn't hurt.

I can see that she is still somewhat nervous around me, that she almost expects me to put her through a wall at any moment because of what happened earlier at the club. I try to put her at easy as best as I can with an awkward smile, and I try to take the edge out of my tone as I speak.

"So...what'd I miss?"

Pinup exhales slowly, raising her eyebrows as she thinks back, trying to best sum up what seems like an epic saga-worth of events.
"Well... Some maniac tried to torch us all, injured all those agents and God knows who else. He's taken care of." She places her hands on her hips, trying to give the broad strokes of the events, without bogging him down with a play-by-play. "S.T.R.I.K.E. has pulled out and medics are covering the area. Michael and Matt had it out a while ago." She shakes her head, "They've retreated to neutral corners. Aren't speaking. Much good it's doing the rest of us."

 

[Johnny Drama]

The Phantom

"Here Comes The Rain Again"


Jack Barret stands in his office atop the BarretTech building in down town Lost Haven. He is looking out his window overlooking all of Lost Haven.
He takes a sip of his Gin and Tonic as he observes the scenery. Grey clouds cover the sky and drown out the sun. A crack of thunder is heard and rain begins to fall from the sky.
Jack lights a cigar and exhales the smoke from his nose, lost in thought. He sees his reflection in the glass window. He studies his face for a bit, almost as if he is trying to see through himself. Then, a shadowy figure appears behind him. His hair is long and black, his skin is cocaine white.

"And people think I am a monster. For shame, Jack. For Shame." Ultima says.

Jack turns around quickly but there is no one behind him. Perhaps it was a figment of his imagination, maybe it was the alcohol. Jack takes a moment to collect himself before heading to his desk where he takes a seat and props his feet off. His secretary, Mercedes, enters the room.

"Mr. Barret, I'm sorry to disturb you but Mr. Howard is here, he says it's important..." Mercedes says.

"Must be for him to be here this late. Send him in, Mercedes" Jack says.

Trent Howard, head of the Distribution department, comes in with a stern look on his face.

"I have to say, Barret, I still don't understand why you decided to move our headquarters from New York to Lost Haven but all I know is that it rains too damn much here, old friend" Trent says with a smile as he takes a seat.

"I grew up here, Trent. Well, near here, in New Hampshire. I've always loved this place and the economy is booming post Invasion." Jacks says

"Sentimental AND practical. Glad to see things never change, heh. Ugh...look Jack. There is something going on, and I'm not sure what to make of it. There was about $150,000 worth of BarretTech inventory that went missing during a shipment to the Army. The stuff that went missing was all highly advanced weapons and tech. All of it, just gone. We have no idea how this could have happened. We did a full audit of everything going out, had no reported problems on the delivery and came up several items short on the return" Trent says.

"This is unfortunate, Trent. Very unfortunate. You understand that if this gets out to the press, then you have completely screwed the pooch here. Jobs might be lost..." Jack says as he exhales his cigar smoke pours himself another drink, this time a bit of brandy.

"I'll see to it that it doesn't come to that, Jack. What do we do now?" Trent says as he nods.

"All we can do is watch and see how this plays out. Should get pretty interesting when we find out where that Tech lands..."

----

Rain falls down upon the moonlit streets of Lost Haven. Smoke billows from the sewers as steam rises from streets. It's a cold wet night and the mood is just as dark as the sky above.
Carlos runs down the alleyway soaking wet, shaking and gasping for air as he stops and panics. He looks around and tries to spot a place to hide, but can not find one. He catches his breath a bit more before running down the alleyway. He turns a corner and comes to a dead end. He quickly turns around and closes his eyes, clenching his fist as his entire body combusts into flames.
Carlos is a Metahuman, and he doesn't have a firm grasp on his ability to engulf his body in fire, all that he knows is that he has never had a need to use his ability as much as he does now. The pain picks up and the fire begins to damper. Carlos is scared for his life, and his powers falter out as the water extinguishes him
.
"What do you want!?! What do you want from me?!?!" Carlos screams

The Phantom lowers himself from behind Carlos, making no sound at all as he gracefully lands in a crouched position behind Carlos. Carlos turns around and comes face to face with the man who has been chasing him. Carlos tries to holler but he is in shock as he glares into the Phantoms glowing white eyes.
The Phantom uses his foot to sweep the legs from under Carlos who lands on his back.

"Carlos Morales. 22 Years old, son of Hector and Maria Morales. Metahuman with the ability to control fire, manifest fire and become fire." The Phantom says.

"Leave me alone mean, please just let me go!!" Carlos cries out.

"Your a good man, Carlos. The only one of your mothers 4 children to graduate high school, the only one to have never been to jail. You are a student at LHCC and you go to church almost every Sunday. You plan on proposing to your girlfriend Vanessa because you think it's "the right thing to do" and your conscience cant afford another abortion. You pay all your bills on time and you have only been in one fight your entire life, and you were defending yourself." The Phantom says as he circles around Carlos.

"How...how do you know all that?" Carlos asks as he pulls himself up.

"That's not important, Carlos. Just know that what I am about to do to you is not personal, my friend. I think the world needs more people like you, unfortunately the world doesn't want more people like you. Chalk it up to ignorance, chalk it up to fear, the bottom line is that your presence, your very existence, upsets the natural order of things. There are forces at work, that are putting good money to ensure the end of your existence. that's where I come in. I have a job to do, Carlos. And that means that I am supposed to kill you tonight." The Phantom calmly says as he helps Carlos up.

"N...n...no, please don't" Carlos says.

"Carlos, believe it or not, I don't want this. I may even want this less then you do. But if I let you live, the consequence would be more sever than I can even say. I will tell you this, Carlos. You were a good son to your parents, a good brother to your siblings and a great man in the making. People respect you, people should aspire to be you. You were dealt a bad card kid, believe me, I know how it feels." The Phantom proclaims as he pulls the Pump Action Shotgun out of his back holster.

Carlos cries and puts his hands up, begging for his life as The Phantom puts the gun to his head.

"Goodbye Carlos. Your family will miss you. I'm sorry, friend..."

BAM!!

The fragments of brain matter and blood paint the concrete wall behind Carlos and his headless body falls to the floor.
The Phantom drops to one knee and places his right hand on Carlos's chest.

"Our father, who art in heaven....
Hallowed be thy name..." The Phantom begins to pray over his lifeless victim.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Pinup exhales slowly, raising her eyebrows as she thinks back, trying to best sum up what seems like an epic saga-worth of events.
"Well... Some maniac tried to torch us all, injured all those agents and God knows who else. He's taken care of." She places her hands on her hips, trying to give the broad strokes of the events, without bogging him down with a play-by-play. "S.T.R.I.K.E. has pulled out and medics are covering the area. Michael and Matt had it out a while ago." She shakes her head, "They've retreated to neutral corners. Aren't speaking. Much good it's doing the rest of us."

I listen to Pinup as she tells me about the events that had transpired while I was gone, and as she goes into the details of Matt and Michael's blow up, I feel the anger rising deep inside me. At a time like this, we have enough enemies on the outside who want to see us taken down...we don't need to be fighting among ourselves as well.

I do my best not to let my anger show, I just look to Pinup and say, "Let's go."

 

[Erin]

I listen to Pinup as she tells me about the events that had transpired while I was gone, and as she goes into the details of Matt and Michael's blow up, I feel the anger rising deep inside me. At a time like this, we have enough enemies on the outside who want to see us taken down...we don't need to be fighting among ourselves as well.

I do my best not to let my anger show, I just look to Pinup and say, "Let's go."

Pinup shifts her weight and looks up at Icon. His frame is stiff and his jaw set, and she can tell he's angry. Fortunately, she thinks, it isn't with her.
“Um,” She bites her lip, “much as I wouldn't mind seeing those two bickering children blessed out,” she pulls at her blouse, unsticking it from her abdomen. The coagulated blood makes the fabric heavy, and the dried streaks crack as the cloth shifts. “I'm in real need of a shower, if you wouldn't mind pointing the way and,” She shrugs, a little sheepishly “well... really these clothes are medical waste now...Don't suppose there'd be anything fresh lying about?”
Perhaps an inappropriate time for such a request but, she reasons, Icon has been nothing but a gentleman since the alley. Certainly he could appreciate the desire not to walk around in couture ala Sweeney Todd.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Pinup shifts her weight and looks up at Icon. His frame is stiff and his jaw set, and she can tell he's angry. Fortunately, she thinks, it isn't with her.
“Um,” She bites her lip, “much as I wouldn't mind seeing those two bickering children blessed out,” she pulls at her blouse, unsticking it from her abdomen. The coagulated blood makes the fabric heavy, and the dried streaks crack as the cloth shifts. “I'm in real need of a shower, if you wouldn't mind pointing the way and,” She shrugs, a little sheepishly “well... really these clothes are medical waste now...Don't suppose there'd be anything fresh lying about?”
Perhaps an inappropriate time for such a request but, she reasons, Icon has been nothing but a gentleman since the alley. Certainly he could appreciate the desire not to walk around in couture ala Sweeney Todd.

I look back to Pinup and realize that she's right, she could certainly use a few minutes to freshen up.

"Of course..." I say, my voice softening slightly. "The showers are back down the way you came and to the left. And I think there should be a spare set of clothes in the locker room, if not, I don't think Flux would mind if you borrowed something from her room." I finish, before adding, "Now, if you'll excuse me."

And with that I leave Pinup in the hallway as I make my way towards Michael's room, but first I make a quick detour to the lounge, where I ask Kensei to go find Matt and have him come back to the lounge.

I make my way back down the hall toward Michael's room, where I find him still visibly worked up over his words with the Blue Blur.

"Michael, I need you in the lounge, we're having a team meeting." I say as I turn my back on the door and make my way back to the rest of the team who should be waiting in the lounge.

 

[Johnny Drama]

The Phantom
[BLACKOUT]Episode 2: The Sting
[/BLACKOUT]

Previously on
The Phantom

Jack Barret stands in his office atop the BarretTech building in down town Lost Haven. He is looking out his window overlooking all of Lost Haven.
He takes a sip of his Gin and Tonic as he observes the scenery. Grey clouds cover the sky and drown out the sun. A crack of thunder is heard and rain begins to fall from the sky.
Jack lights a cigar and exhales the smoke from his nose, lost in thought. He sees his reflection in the glass window. He studies his face for a bit, almost as if he is trying to see through himself. Then, a shadowy figure appears behind him. His hair is long and black, his skin is cocaine white.

"And people think I am a monster. For shame, Jack. For Shame." Ultima says.

Jack turns around quickly but there is no one behind him. Perhaps it was a figment of his imagination, maybe it was the alcohol. Jack takes a moment to collect himself before heading to his desk where he takes a seat and props his feet off. His secretary, Mercedes, enters the room.

"Mr. Barret, I'm sorry to disturb you but Mr. Howard is here, he says it's important..." Mercedes says.

"Must be for him to be here this late. Send him in, Mercedes" Jack says.

Trent Howard, head of the Distribution department, comes in with a stern look on his face.

"I have to say, Barret, I still don't understand why you decided to move our headquarters from New York to Lost Haven but all I know is that it rains too damn much here, old friend" Trent says with a smile as he takes a seat.

"I grew up here, Trent. Well, near here, in New Hampshire. I've always loved this place and the economy is booming post Invasion." Jacks says

"Sentimental AND practical. Glad to see things never change, heh. Ugh...look Jack. There is something going on, and I'm not sure what to make of it. There was about $150,000 worth of BarretTech inventory that went missing during a shipment to the Army. The stuff that went missing was all highly advanced weapons and tech. All of it, just gone. We have no idea how this could have happened. We did a full audit of everything going out, had no reported problems on the delivery and came up several items short on the return" Trent says.

"This is unfortunate, Trent. Very unfortunate. You understand that if this gets out to the press, then you have completely screwed the pooch here. Jobs might be lost..." Jack says as he exhales his cigar smoke pours himself another drink, this time a bit of brandy.

"I'll see to it that it doesn't come to that, Jack. What do we do now?" Trent says as he nods.

"All we can do is watch and see how this plays out. Should get pretty interesting when we find out where that Tech lands..."

Joey Bones stands on the corner of Havana and 23rd street, removing his sunglasses and wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel that he has draped over his shoulder. The hot September sun beats down on Joey in such an unforgiving manner you would swear that the earth and the sun were set to collide with one another. As if the raw heat weren't enough, the sheer humidity was also overpowering to an almost unbearable degree, Suddenly, Joey's pocket vibrates and the song "Lost Haven Anthem" by Lil Wayne can be heard, albeit muffled, echoing from his trousers.
An anxious Joey pulls out his classic Motorolla Razr and the music ends as he flips it open and presses the phone to his ear.

"What's the hold up, Mikey?" Joey asks

"Bones, man, we had some heat, brother. Don't worry, we lost them We are on 23rd right now..." Mikey says through the phone

"I see you...hurry on...." Joey replies

A blue Chevy Cavalier rides down 23rd street with a large Coca Cola truck following behind it. Both the car and the truck take a turn down an alleyway, in between Pito's Spanish Grocery and the 24-hour Laundromat. Joey quickly runs after the two vehicles and makes his way down the alleyway where the two large men are opening up the coca cola truck, Joey's brother Mikey getting a briefcase out of the back of the Chevy. After the two men open the truck, they turn around revealing themselves to be be Lost Haven's "Kings Of The Streets", Diamond and Apollo, The Smash Brothers.

"Joey Bones. Been a while my brother..." Diamond says as he takes a puff from his cigar, his large aviator sunglasses reflecting a bright glare under the sun.

"Oh I am ya' brother now? That's funny, because my real brother, Mikey back here, did 1 year and a half in Lost Haven State Penitentiary off of some s**t that you pulled..." Joey asks

Diamond smiles and looks towards Apollo, both men smiling.

"Hey, Apollo, you remember me asking Joey's little brother to take the fall for me?" Diamond asks
"Sure don't..." he responds.
"Apollo, you remember me asking, no...begging...Mikey not to come on that deal?" Dimond asks
"Sure do..." Apollo responds
"So the way I see's it, Bones, why in the hell do I gotta save his ass, give up mine, when I told the little juicehead to turn around and go back to the gym? That's on ya' brother, Bones. Not me. I can't look after him when you odon't feel like it." Diamond says as he removes his sunglasses and tucks them into his coat pocket.

"Yeah, whatever bro. I don't even know why the hell I am doing business with you, but if the inventory you promised is legit, then it might be worth it..."

"Call me what you will, but you know I am a man of my word, son. This way, Bones..." Diamond says as he leads the way.

Joey and Mikey follow Diamond and Apollo to the back of the Coke truck, after passing the first few rows of Coke products, the pallets closer to the back seem to look different. One box is labeled "iPods and Zunes", another large box reading "PS3", another reading HP Laptops and another box marked with an X. Joey heads strait to the crate marked X and his face fills with a combination of anxiousness and curiosity. Diamond Carter opens the padlock on the crate and begins to open the top with a crowbar. As the top slides off, a bright orange glow emits from the top of the box, though we don't see what is inside, all 4 men look at the contents of the crate with a childlike wonder, there eyes wide and their smiles ear to ear.

"Is that..." Joey begins to ask before being interrupted by Diamond.

"Is that what you think it is? Oh yeah, muh brother. Everything else in the truck, the 25 grand that we agreed upon. But for this...THIS...we gon' have to negotiate a bit."

"Negotiate?" Joey asks

"We are living in dangerous times, JoJo. The economy is in the tank, we got fruity booty super powerd fairy boys running round in spandex, bad guys killing people left and right, aliens invading and Lady Gaga playin' on the radio. I don't know about you, but I miss the olden days, kid. Times when you knew the difference between reality and fantasy. These days, anything is possible. The game has changed. It's becoming even harder for someone to make a name for themselves round here. You want an edge on the competition? Something to keep the other families in check while keeping the likes of The Survivor and Icon off your back? Then THIS is what you need, made and manufactured for military combat on Metahumans. You want this? That's going to be 200 thousand dollars, CASH, up front." Diamond says.

"You already owe me, bro. You have to cut me a good deal here..." Joey demands

"I am already giving you 80 Thousand dollars worth of hot merchandise for 25 large. What more do you want? Inside this crate, muh brotha, is $150,000 worth of stolen BarretTech inventory, military grade tech and weapons, and you want me to, what, give it to you?" Diamond asks.

Joey smiles

"Something like that." Joey says as two SWAT vans suddenly pull up from each end of the alley and close off the exits. Diamond and Apollo are shocked and when they turn to Joey and Mikey, the brothers already have their police issue barettas drawn on Diamond and Apollo.

"You son of a *****...." Diamond says to Joey

"Karma just kicked you in the dick, Diamond" Joey says as swat moves in and handcuffs Diamond and Apollo.

"Your dead, Joey Bones" Diamond says to Joey as SWAT drag him and his brother Apollo away.

"Joey Bones IS dead, Diamond. He died long ago, Sunshine. These days, people call me Detective Joseph Barone. Better get used to it because I will see you in court. You are right about one thing, Old friend...Times have changed, and the olden days were better. All I know is that this new world needs more people like me than it does scum like you." Joseph says as Mikey begins to read Diamond and Apollo their rights.

"You have the right to remain silent...." Mikey says as he and a few other officers escort Diamond and Apollo to the the police vehicles.

Joseph smiles and looks toward the crate which is being examined by LHPD's finest. Joseph heads towards the crate and sees police captain Jim Sharp.

"Hold the applause boys, I'll be here all night" Joseph says as he approaches the officers.

"You're a cocky son of a *****, Barone. Always have been. This is why I am going to take a slight bit of joy in what I am about to tell you..." Captain Sharp says ans he cracks open the crate.

"Whats that, Captain? That you think I'm such a stunning example of what a Lost Haven Police officer should be that I give you a *****? Are you promoting me for doing what your boys in the DEA weren't capable of of?" Joseph asks.

"You done?" Captain Sharp asks.

"Just getting started, Captain. I gave you Diamond Carter, something you could never do on your own, and I found stolen Tech that was, how did you put it, a priority ONE affair? It's okay Captain, don't hold back your excitement." Joseph says.

"Well, now that you got that out of your system, I should tell you that this weapons this is NOT the stolen BarretTech inventory. You've been had." Captain Sharp says before chuckling

"What?" Joey asks with a confused look.

"These are cheap knock offs. Military issue, yeah, but BarretTech grade? Not even close. There is about $1,200 worth of **** in here, not the 150 grand shipment that went missing. Your old buddy Diamond was trying to rip you off" Captain Sharp says.

"Figures. Diamond is still Diamond I see. Goddamn it. So then, do I still get that promotion or...." Joey says.

"Is Everything a joke to you, Barone?" Captain Sharp asks.

"Lately, Captain? Yeah. Everything is a joke because there are some funny things going on around here. BarretTech relocates from New York to Lost Haven and then upon arrival they loose $150,000 worth of dangerous weapons within our city. And that creep Diamon was right, there are big things at play in this city right now, heroes, villains and the guys in between. I guess that's us, Captain. Either way, that tech is out there somewhere, and whoever has it can not have anything good in store...

-
12 Hours Later, 3 AM, Downtown Lost Haven

[BLACKOUT]I stand atop the Lost Haven Trade Center in downtown Lost Haven. Across the street I see Lost haven national Bank, BarretTech Industries, and the Heisenberg Building. The people below me waste their lives waiting on a hero to save them. They look up to the likes of the Blue Blur, Icon and The Survivor, worshiping them as gods as they wait for them to grace them with their devine presence. They rely to much on their demigods. The people of Lost Haven are in for a rude awakening.
When the dust settles and their are no more Metahumans left decaying this once beautiful planet, I will be the last one standing. And when that happens, when I am the last Meta on earth, I'll put a bullet in my head and wipe us all out. And it will all have been done....for her[/BLACKOUT]

The Phantom leaps over to the adjacent building with impeccable agility and approaches what looks to be a Black motorcycle without wheels. The Phantom starts the bike and it literally hovers above the ground. The sleek black Hover bike is looks Arlaaekean but modified with advanced BarretTech enhancements. The hover bike elevates even higher and turns around before taking off, The Phantom flying through the air on it like a witch on her broomstick.

[BLACKOUT]To Be Continued...[/BLACKOUT]

 

[Blacklight]

Chapter 15: Cave Diving and Such...



The next day, following the completion of my suit's design, the three of us, sketches in hand, headed to see our close friend Josh Montanez, as well as his father, Peter.

Josh and his father are nothing short of pioneers in the field of applied sciences for military operations. Gadgets, weapons, and even suits. Too bad a lot of their prototypes sit around and collect dust while the Military shell their money over AmmoCorp.'s way as opposed to Peter. What little money they do make is enough to make a decent enough living, but they’re nowhere close Julius Vayne level rich. But that doesn’t make what they’ve made any less works of genius.

We headed up the stairs of the two story complex, and when we had reached the top floor, Ryan had knocked on the door. In moments, the door opened, revealing Josh as the one who had turned the knob.

“‘Sup, guys. What can we do for ya?” he greeted us.

“Nothin’ much, Josh. Just a small favor to ask of you...” Ryan answered.

“What is it?”

“We wanted to ask you if you had anything Jon could ‘borrow’ to make a uhh... A special suit?”

“What do you mean? Like regular fabric?”

“Not exactly… We're looking for something much sturdier.” Ryan implied, smirking.

"A lot sturdier." I added.

“Hmm… I think we got something, but what's this 'special' suit for anyways?”

"For uhhh–"
“–For spelunking!” I cut Ryan off, blurting out the first thing I could think of off the top of my head.


...I watched Batman Begins the other day. Sue me.

"Spelunking?"

"Yeah, y'know... like cave diving?" I added, also lifting that line from Begins. God am I a nerd...

"Riiiight... Seriously, what's it for?" he asked, clearly unconvinced. "I've seen Batman Begins too."

Damn... I thought that was gonna work, too.

"Jon's got superpowers and needs a costume so he can be a superhero." Ryan truthfully (and rather bluntly) answered, to my utter horror.

"Ryan! What the f--"

"Okay. Cool. Let's hook you guys up." Josh replied nonchalantly. A bit too nonchalantly I might add, considering he just found out one of his friends has super-freaking-powers. No one gets to hear that. Like... ever. How could anyone shrug that off?

Oh well... I figured. I shouldn't dwell on it too much. I mean sure now someone else knows my secret but at least he's helping me do good and it's someone else I can trust.

"Follow me to the workshop. I think we have just the thing." Josh said as we began following his lead towards the workshop.

We entered the rather large room filled with prototypes where we found Peter running some tests on a dark gray, stretched out piece of cloth. Tests that include stabbing it with a pocket knife repeatedly. Not once was the fabric punctured.

"We've been developing a new superfabric under the name 'Quadro-weave'. Light as regular fabric, yet virtually immune to damage." Josh explained, pointing to the cloth his father was trying his hardest to destroy.

"Awesome." I stated as I approached the table and began to stroke the cloth, feeling it through my fingers.

"What's 'Quadro-weave' stand for?" I asked Peter as he stopped his tests for a moment and looked up at us. He raised his hand, and lifted one finger as he stated each part that composed a fraction of the cloth.

"Kevlar. Aluminum lace. 'Osmium thread', as well as normal filament treated with an anti-tetroxide soultion to keep the osmium from harming the wearer. Guaranteed to stop a knife or bullet dead in their tracks."

"Why Osmium?" I asked.

Peter then smirked as he pulled out a gun and fired a round at the fabric, the gunshots scaring us all pale. But we all looked as the bullet was near flattened, and Peter plucked it off.

"It's the densest metal on Earth." he answered simply.

"Sweeeeet..." I smiled.

Josh then put his hand on my shoulder, and I turned to him as he stood next to me as his dad began more tests.

"What do you think?"

"It's perfect." I answered, grinning.

I then proceeded to give Josh mine and Jess' sketches.

"Can you make it look like that?" I asked, smirking. He nodded.


...I'm gonna have a sweet costume. It's gonna be bulletproof!

 

[trustyside-kick]

Pinup listens calmly as he explains himself. She watches the punching bag fly across the room, landing with a crash as it knocks over some free weights. Sand spills out of a ripped seam, making a shushed tinkling noise as it strikes a metal weight. Her expression softens and she sighs.
"I don't know where you fit," She admits softly "in the grand scheme of life...Earth...heaven, whatever. I don't know." She meets his gaze levelly. "But I do know there is a room of people back there who not only want but need you on their side, and a lot of other innocent meta-humans who don't realize yet that they'll be needing people like you."

Pinup watches Michael steadily, unsure if he is really hearing anything she says. She sighs, taking her hand back and folding her arms once again. "Look...Maybe you are losing your humanity. Maybe your deepest fear is coming true, but answer me this:" She arches an eyebrow as she asks pointedly "how does sulking in here while S.T.R.I.K.E. mounts an attack help any of that?"

There is an uncomfortable silence as she watches his expression shift.
"Well, when you figure that out, you let me know. I have to clean up." She pushes off the door frame with her shoulder, turning on her heel and continuing down the hallway, once again in search of a shower and fresh clothes.

Pinup's words sink in for a little bit. And then I look down and take a look at my hands. I walk out of the fitness room, and head towards my bedroom quarters. The entire time the gaze of my eyes are met down upon my hands as I've more than memorize the layout of this base.

These hands...that have crafted mountainous backgrounds one day and then could literally move said mountains on another. With the flick of a brush with the right technique I can capture the right breeze of the wind just like I can also cause it to gust violently should the right day come along. It wasn't until recent that I really gave such a thing this much thought. My heritage. I bear ties to both divine and humane origins.

A bridge to the two in a way.

But a bridge is built to go from one point to the other. You'd think that I'm halfway between the two. I don't think I am. That I have been. A part of me...slipping away.

I make my way back down the hall toward Michael's room, where I find him still visibly worked up over his words with the Blue Blur.

"Michael, I need you in the lounge, we're having a team meeting." I say as I turn my back on the door and make my way back to the rest of the team who should be waiting in the lounge.

I take a deep breath. Icon's back so that means things are going to get down to business. Though here I am...entirely powerless as the Archangel State is completely inaccessible to me for the rest of this day.

Trying to shake off this feeling of incompetence, I clench my fists and look up. Maybe this is my chance to prove what a man can do, and get one step closer on that bridge back towards my humanity. At least, that's what I tell myself as I walk through the hallways towards the meeting room.

 

[Hound55]

Hand over hand, one knee pushing past the other as I crawl out of the filth. The best laid plans of a man and metas, all underway simultaneously. Team Alpha should be hitting their target right about now. Took some convincing to get them to steal, even in their own oppressed situation, but they eventually changed their tune when I told them what their target would be – I selected the emergency generators of three abandoned buildings set for demolition in the coming months, their generators not yet removed by the city. Wouldn’t be missed, I said, would be nice if they went to a good cause. Picked some strong guys for that team. Handpicked them. Have 5 guys who can fly and can carry a couple ton without raising a sweat... they’re no Icon, sure, but you work with what you have. Team Alpha’s out about 3 k west of here, where I crawl about in the filth.


Team Beta? Beta’s out about 2 k west-nor’west of here. Got them looting a whitegoods and electrical store, not exactly the kind of thing a hero would generally do but I’ll see they get reimbursed later... if I live to take care of that. The owner’s crooked anyway, but he still doesn’t deserve this... or at least his employees don’t.


How long does it take to get used to this damned smell? Ugh. The muck is all dried and caked into my clothes from when I fell in earlier, only my knees haven’t dried and that’s because I’m still crawling around in it now.


Team Gamma’s about 2 k west-sou’west of here. They’re hitting another two stores in close proximity, they’re the only team which contains non-meta folk. It’s where I put the L.O.s who wanted to contribute. Well, that might be putting it lightly. Most quickly caught on to my sentiment of having to do SOMETHING, so I put them to use in a role that I figured would be within their capabilities – they’re looting for food and medical supplies.


A thin ray of light shines down from above, finally my gloved hand is able to fall on something other than damp muck as I grip the rung of a ladder.
They’re not going to like this. They’re going to feel used. Hell, rightly so. I am using them. But it’s necessary. I’ve already seen the angles. Everyone can win this way. Heck, this way could be the only way that ANY of us have a chance.


Elsewhere in the Sewer – The Home of The Wanted


A blue being walks the open chambers and passages of The Wanted’s subterranean lair. It’s almost empty, since so many wanted to be a part of the dark one’s missions. For the most part only two types of people remain here; the sick and hurt, and those who care for them.

But HE wasn’t sick, nor was he tending to anyone. He just couldn’t understand why everyone was so quick to trust him. One of them. Something didn’t seem right.

More sewer – Back with The Vigilante

Hand over hand I climb out of this filth. An end in sight. The means may not have been the cleanest, but there’s always a shower with the ends... Fleeing the sewer, flooding with its dirt, like a rat.

Sewer again – Home of the Wanted.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

His voice finds no ears. Instead, it hangs in the dank darkness like mould or algae. He walks into the room where the Vigilante drafted their plans. The maps of the city are still lain out, but something has changed. There’s a new note skewered to the table and the map by a coloured pin. Not disturbing the table the distrusting cobalt man reads his words, written in rudimentary untraceable block lettering.

Back with the Vigilante

Crawling back to the surface I slide the manhole cover across, I poke my head out and see an empty back street. Seems the map was right. Crawling out onto the city street my outfit drips with effluent. I gasp in lungfulls of fresh air. I take a moment to rest and get my bearings; the early morning light is still more than my eyes were ready for. Eventually I’m ready and I walk to the corner and poke my head around to catch a glimpse of the main road.

Looks like it has worked. The S.T.R.I.K.E stockade has up and left. A smile crosses my face and I aim my grapple gun at a far off roof, tucking the gun under my good arm I retract the cable and soar off to the rooftops.

The War-room in the Lair of The Wanted – (back in the sewers again...)

If you’re reading this... and I’m guessing it’s you, Blue. Then you’ve realised I’m gone. While you all have had your own missions for the benefit of the group, I’ve had mine. Team Delta – Comprised of one. With a simple goal: To get back to the surface to inform my teammates, your potential allies [possibly your only allies], of your existence. I have used the cover of Teams Alpha, Beta and Gamma to distract the S.T.R.I.K.E force that surrounds Guardian Headquarters. With any luck we’ll have split their force enough that an opening should have been formed to the east of Guardian Headquarters.

The blue man steps back and realises that the note has been pinned to a spot on the map located 1 and a half k to the east of Guardian HQ.

But do not feel abused. You now have the tools to start a workable life down here and if I’m successful in my own mission it will hopefully only be a temporary solution. Expect to hear from me soon, but if you ever need me, there’s a house on the corner of Edgeford and Cartwright. Since you’ve had practice breaking into places, this should be no problem. If ever you need me, break into this house and wait. I’ll find you.

Until next we meet.

Viva la resistance.

A glowing blue smile punches through the darkness. Satisfied in his the confirmation in his doubts, pleased to hear they may have allies and glad that despite all he’d given, he wouldn’t have to see the dark man anymore for a while. But they knew where to reach him if needed.

Guardians Headquarters

Isaac walked through the back door after punching in his passcode. The rat returns. No one in the kitchen apparently. I announce my arrival to any within earshot. Which appears to be nobody, or at least they’re pre-occupied elsewhere.

[BLACKOUT]“Hello?!”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“Yeah, I’m back!”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“Anyone with sense of supersmell should shut it off right about now! I just spent the last God knows how long crawling through sewerage with roaches and ra...”[/BLACKOUT]

I look on the kitchen counter and see a cage. A small domestic or lab rat runs happily in a little wheel.

[BLACKOUT]“Alright! Whose sick idea of a joke was this?!”[/BLACKOUT]

Like I haven’t had enough rats for the week... I turn away from the kitchen and head for my room. I grab a vacuum sealed bag of clothes (since I’m on government payroll I’ve chosen to cut all chances of revealing my identity and become a one wear and burn kind of guy... these clothes should probably be burned under normal circumstances anyway.) and a towel. I approach the door and can hear the fan on, but the shower not running.

Ugh... I’m guessing Blue Blur has left the fan on in his rush again, he leaves lights on all over the place. Can’t waste half a second turning things off before he leaves the room.

[BLACKOUT]“Dammit Blur, is it too much to just turn the lights off when you leave a roo...!”[/BLACKOUT]

A girl hurriedly covers herself with a towel mid-dry.

[BLACKOUT]“...”[/BLACKOUT]

“...”

[BLACKOUT]“Million dollar damn security system is kind of worthless when guys use this place as a frickin’ make-out pad. Another one of Icon’s girls I presume..? Or has Mikey gone and lost his mind for another girl again?”[/BLACKOUT]

 

[Erin]

Pinup breathes a sigh of relief as hot water pelts the back of her head and shoulders. The dried blood loosens and slips down the drain amidst bubbly rivulets of lather. There is something unarguably soothing about being clean. For the first time in what seems like ages, Pinup is able to relax, at least a little. Her thoughts trail past the events of the evening, though she doesn't allow herself to linger too long on any particular moment. Gradually, she lets her guilt and fear disappear, as though dissolving in the steady stream of water.
Thoroughly clean and refreshed, she steps from the shower. Pulling a towel around her, she makes her way toward the sink. A pile of fresh clothes sits on the counter top, her bloodied clothes bagged and discarded in the trash bin. She had found the clothes after much searching and frustration, and though they aren't her particular style, she figured she could expect little else from a den of meta humans serving as super heroes.
She rings excess water from her hair into the sink, making eye contact with herself in the mirror. She frowns as she is suddenly struck with an idea. She has been trying for years to control her powers; first to avoid using them and now... what? Certainly the run-in with Hazard won't be the last time she'll ever have to use them. Besides, she had told Icon she planned to stay and help the team, and she wouldn't be much help any other way. It seemed a simple solution at the moment, standing there staring at herself in the mirror; if she wants to control her powers, she ought to practice. Not on anyone else, but herself. It is a wonder to her that she had never thought to try it before.
Pinup secures the towel around her and leans against the counter top. Placing her hands on either side of the sink, she stares into her own eyes, trying to lock into her own psyche, and connect with her fears.
“Just a little one, first.” She thinks, uncertain if she can even control the level of fears. She feels a tickle against her hand and looks down. Dozens of cockroaches skitter over the counter. They scurry over her hands and disappear into the folds of the clothing next to the sink. She tries to push the overwhelmingly sick feeling from her stomach as she reminds herself it's not real.
“Good...” She swallows, trying not to vomit as more cockroaches skitter over the tiled floor, running over her bare feet and flicking at her ankles with their antennae. She can't help but feel a small amount of pride. She has come farther tonight in controlling her power than she has in the past seventy-odd years. Perhaps the key is to embrace it, not stifle it.
Or maybe not.
She raises her head to find she is no longer in the bathroom, but an empty street. The remains of buildings smoulder and the stench of burning flesh is thick in the air. Bodies lie burnt and twisted among the rubble. She recognizes more than one corpse, crushed and bleeding in the pavement. In front of her, a fleet of metas rise like rockets into the sky. Below them, Walter stands calmly, shaking his head, a syringe in hand. It all becomes abundantly clear to Pinup. Her heart races as she stares at the mangled bodies of Icon, Michael and the others. She had done this; by insisting Walter help her find a cure for her own foolish mistake, she had ensured the death of the Guardians. The meta fleet rains fire down from the sky, burning the whole of Lost Haven. Screams rise from the innocent victims. She wants to scream – beg Walter to stop the madness he has contributed to but which she began. Instead she covers her ears with her hands.
“This isn't real! This isn't real! This isn't real!” her brain screams. She closes her eyes and shakes her head, taking a step back and falling hard to the ground.
The screaming stops. The smell of burning flesh has been replaced with the fresh scent of shampoo, and the burning pavement replaced with the cool, smooth tile of the bathroom floor. Pinup opens her eyes and looks around wildly, panting heavily as though she had just sprinted a marathon. Exhaling a long breath, picks herself up. Retrieving the towel, which had fallen the floor, she continues to dry herself off, thinking over what the experiment had taught her.

Isaac walked through the back door after punching in his passcode. The rat returns. No one in the kitchen apparently. I announce my arrival to any within earshot. Which appears to be nobody, or at least they’re pre-occupied elsewhere.

[BLACKOUT]“Hello?!”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“Yeah, I’m back!”[/BLACKOUT]

[BLACKOUT]“Anyone with sense of supersmell should shut it off right about now! I just spent the last God knows how long crawling through sewerage with roaches and ra...”[/BLACKOUT]

I look on the kitchen counter and see a cage. A small domestic or lab rat runs happily in a little wheel.

[BLACKOUT]“Alright! Whose sick idea of a joke was this?!”[/BLACKOUT]

Like I haven’t had enough rats for the week... I turn away from the kitchen and head for my room. I grab a vacuum sealed bag of clothes (since I’m on government payroll I’ve chosen to cut all chances of revealing my identity and become a one wear and burn kind of guy... these clothes should probably be burned under normal circumstances anyway.) and a towel. I approach the door and can hear the fan on, but the shower not running.

Ugh... I’m guessing Blue Blur has left the fan on in his rush again, he leaves lights on all over the place. Can’t waste half a second turning things off before he leaves the room.

[BLACKOUT]“Dammit Blur, is it too much to just turn the lights off when you leave a roo...!”[/BLACKOUT]

A girl hurriedly covers herself with a towel mid-dry.

[BLACKOUT]“...”[/BLACKOUT]

“...”

[BLACKOUT]“Million dollar damn security system is kind of worthless when guys use this place as a frickin’ make-out pad. Another one of Icon’s girls I presume..? Or has Mikey gone and lost his mind for another girl again?”[/BLACKOUT]

Pinup's jaw drops as her temper rises.
“I beg your pardon!?” She snaps at Vigilante, tightening her grip on the towel. “What do you lot do with your spare time that you'd all think I'm some kind of loose fan girl!? For your information - “ [/COLOR]She stops short, the smell of sewage reaching her nostrils. She crinkles her nose, covering it and her mouth with her hand and regarding Vigilante with an undeniable look of disgust.
“You reek.” Her voice is muffled from behind her hand. She watches him expectantly for a moment, before finally prompting. “Well!? Get out! You can have the shower when I'm changed. God knows you need it.”