Averick

((Well, this is what Cuppajo said. She said it was probably a post removed due to violation of the rules, though I really can't imagine what rule would be violated in such a tame thread. She also said that if a post is removed, that all posts after it are removed as well, unless they were in response to a post before the offending post. So... in the future we shouldn't respond to the posts we're actually responding to, but to the original post. I put in a 24 hr service email yesterday, but won't be home to check it until tonight. SOOOOO, hang tight, we'll see what the official word is. And no matter what happens, this is THEIR webspace. We're not even paying rent, so please no griping about them losing or deleting or it not being fair. It's just a story, and we can always just pick up where we left off. Thank you for your patience, I'll post tonight with what they tell me or if they return things to normal, then we can keep going. Personally, I'm inclined to think it's a mistake, because I can't see a moderator going back through a months worth of posts to find something that violates the rules, and then deleting the post, causing the loss of thirty pages when they could just edit the post and leave a note saying "don't swear" or whatever it was that violated the rules.))

I'll bite, why not.

Apartment: 701
Name: Master Sergeant Riley
Storyteller: Averick
Summary: The US Army has chosen a few, elite troops to help aid the heroes of Paragon City in their fight against the invading Rikti and the foriegn powers of the Council. Metaforces (a branch of Special Forces), operates inside and outside of the city, aiding heroes. NCOs, WOs and other enlisted or specialty officers are forbidden from leading groups of Metas. Riley is the only non Meta to survive as long as he has in Metaforces, facing the kinds of threats that the heroes around him deal with. Every woman he's ever cared about has either tragically died or disappeared.

Good, solid, a little dry, but still a solid read. If you want to attract readers or catch people's attention, try writing the same story a new way.

A problem all writers face is that the straight up writing style is like a documentary. The subject matter has to be really interesting before people will read it and not just pass it over.

The character is rough, difficult to identify with, and seems to have lucked into everything. He's good looking, naturally adept, has a cute 18 year old girlfriend, is a natural shot, etc, etc, etc. People prefer characters that struggle, it gives them depth and something that the reader can identify with.

A sense of loss for someone who has everything doesn't really hit home. Honest feedback.

[[With Coolant's permission]]

Mystic grumbled as he carried the bin to the top of the stairs, tray under his arm. He wandered over to Coolant's chamber to see that he was still in it. He checked the time and noted that the large man still had four hours before he required waking.

It was time to greet the public, which required a shower and dressing up like a powerful keeper of arcane secrets. Once showered and changed, he returned downstairs to see if Ion had gotten the force field down.

Mystic sipped his tea as Poison Sting marched up to Ion. He looked at Newton, "That didn't take long." He put his hand on Brian's arm, "it will work itself out."

The mage turned back toward Ion and Poison with interest, "it seems our genius has his first real problem to solve. Let's watch a genius at work, shall we?"

Mystic looked across the faces of the rest of the group. “Genius? Brilliant! We could use one of those. Brian, if you’d be so kind as to check our friend’s credentials to make sure he’s not an evil genius in disguise, then we can start putting that brain to work for us.

“Coolant, any chance we could just set up something to make noise? I have construction workers coming in the morning to replace the doors and fix a lot of the walls, put in new carpet, window treatments, give us a decent tea table. We need to work on total security of the whole building soon anyway, might as well get started on that project. I have a small amount we’re allotted for repairs and improvements. “

The mage regarded Newton and IonFlux as they told their tales. “Any questions? Well, I suppose there is one pressing matter. Would you care for some tea?”

Mystic turned to Coolant, “I suppose we should step up our renovations to the aesthetically appealing variety at this point, what with little Brian and Ion joining us. Oh, dreadfully sorry Brian, your calling me uncle Al has brought back memories of when you were four and you used to run around naked in your little cowboy… alright, alright. Just so we understand each other.” Alfred gave a menacing look.

“Well, Brian should be in charge of logging all of the new recruits, I assume they gave you paperwork, Mr Flux, is it? Did you volunteer for this or are you beholden to some greater power?”

After Mystic listened to Flux’s answer he again addressed the group. “So we have a meeting to plan for. I suggest that someone case the place today, rooftops, alleys, parking lots, bus routes, train routes, sewers, all that sort of thing. I will arrange that the doors for the building be replaced tomorrow, so there will be construction here. I’d like more information on this Brander fellow. The third floor specialized detectives and mini crime lab haven’t been touched in terms of cleaning, nor has the evidence locker in the basement. We could use some equipment for surveillance. And it wouldn’t be a bad idea to set up watches. Additionally, it seems we’ve run out of tea.”

Mystic reeled as if he were struck by a blow. "You know what... call me boss."

He was smiling under the mask, but wasn't certain if Poison could tell. "After Newton fills us in on his capabilities, I suppose we'll prepare for the mission, and fill Brian in."

"You guys really have outdone yourselves it seems. Last time this place looked this good, I think Kennedy was president."

Taking a seat in the lounge chair, he sipped his tea and felt the relaxation begin to course through him, "Ahhh yea, almost forgot how good you made this stuff. You still got it," he remarked taking another sip, "but aside from all this small talk, I can imagine you're wondering why I'm here."

Mystic beamed from beneath his mask at the mention of his tea. Usually he just skulked about the coffee rooms at the university mumbling about how the heathens there didn’t even have all the appropriate accoutrements for tea. Seldom did someone actually show an appreciation for his skill.

“Thank you, I edged the spoon in cinnamon and added a sprig of thyme… oh, go on.”

"but when they found out who my uncle was and that he was running this joint, they were more than happy to send me here, thinking that I had been holding out on some power I never told them about."

Smiling, he placed his arm around Alfred, "But we all know this type of thing doesn't really run in our family does it Uncle Alfred," he gestured with a wink.

“Yes, well, actually I hadn’t thought to tell my new friends my name just yet. Thank you for saving me the bother. I was trying to remain quite super hero-ish. That aside, I’m not ‘running’ anything. We’re a cooperative council of equal partners who share responsibility for… you can stop snickering anytime Newton.” Mystic took another sip of tea. “So, are you to be joining us? We were just discussing our previous levels of experience, so we could determine what we can expect of each other in the field.”

Coolant took the time to answer his question before he left. “My experience includes everything from gang bangers to Clockworks. I work a lot in King’s Row. My recent activities have focused heavily on Crey. They seem to have an interest in me. I fight well, but I have trouble maintaining contacts and allies. Most find me understandably cold. My biggest weakness is my energy expenditure.”

Coolant never stopped walking towards the door as he talked. Upon reaching the exit he added, “I can lift up to 825 pounds over my head if need be, and while fully armored I can withstand most direct attacks with the exception of incendiary weapons. I can emit a controlled aura of cold in close ranges, and I have very good audio and thermal scanners for scouting. For anything more specific, I can give you exact technical readouts. Will that do for your question, Inferno?”

Mystic nodded. “Quite. My appreciation for your efficient answer is greater than you may realize. Anyone else?”

Mystic looked, but didn’t believe. “Oy! Brian, what in the world…” He stood and floated over to his Nephew, holding out his hand. “You’re the last thing I expected to see here, a familiar face.”

For moments, he just stared at his nephew. “My god, where are my manners? Gentlemen and giant insects, this is Brian, my nephew. Brian, may I introduce Poison Sting, Coolant System, and Newton’s Apple. I hope you chose a name with two words in it, as that seems to be the one thing we all have in common. Would you like some tea? I’ve taken to making smaller pots but I think there’s ample for two.”

"More of a 'I hate to admit it, but I look the closest to normal' kind of things. I can wear the hood and the mask and generally not draw too much attention. Especially if I carry one of those fake light sabres, they'll just think a Star Wars movie is playing nearby. Perhaps I could pass for a monk. But you with the helmet and the green hair, and... well... anyone else here, would simply draw too much attention. Besides, I can handle myself quite well most times. I'm quite adept at staying out of the line of fire. If it gets dangerous, I'll call you all in. If not, I'll take the little bugger all by myself, and not tip our hand to anyone who might be watching and think to take him back."

Mystic studied the expressions of his other teammates. "We have another option. We could appeal to Sudden to further aid us. We DID let him and his brother pull of a daring escape attempt. Of course we captured four and let one go that we were going to let go anyway."

"Yes, Sting, I know you're disappointed, but he DID cooperate and we don't have any evidence he broke the law recently. The scrape in front of the apartment was self defense, well, mostly. And now he's off telling his thug friends how incompetent we are and how strong he is. Later, when they find out that this information is incorrect, it will be too late."

Mystic looked around. "Now, I do have some questions about what it is exactly you have done in the past in terms of experience. I, myself, have worked for Positron and Synapse. I have worked with countless contacts on Striga Island and have dealt with clockworks, Dr Vahz, and the fifth column before they were taken over by the council. Most recently, I've had my ribs kicked in by warwolves while I busily set them ablaze. I've grouped with countless heroes, and am very experienced in working with a group. I'm quite capable of preventing you from being burned by my flame. Up close, I'm utterly worthless. My frail, old man body can't take the pounding that you younger heroes can at all. I have a tendency to over extend myself when I see someone in trouble, and I'm slow to run away. I've been working on that, though. What about the rest of you?"

If I may take a stab, you're trying to farce an introduction. Introductions end in a name. So instead of "well, see ya, I'm off to level", You should build up to, "For I am Darkity Dark, and evil should phear my mad clicking skillzorz!" Or some such.

You have to have a beginning, middle and end. Your beginning is "20 years ago I was..."

Your middle is "My toggles are six slotted with end"

Your end should be something like, "Wherever there is evil, you will find my face prints on their carpets and shoes. Wherever there is injustice, you'll see me running for the safety of a police drone. And wherever there is opression, you'll find me broadcasting for a taxi bot to save my butt."

Just a suggestion. I'm not a published author.

Mystic's teeth clenched slightly behind his mask at the word "boss". He had to admit that he was forty five years old, probably the person everyone would assume was the most experienced due to age, but he'd spent most of his life in pursuit of a legend. Most of it spent in libraries and obscure places where they sell maps that no one wants and few believe are authentic.

He was a professor. In the last three years alone he had learned SOOOO much about being a hero that he previously had no clue about. He had broken bones and scars to prove it. Were it not for fellow heroes and the teleportation system of the city, he’d have died long ago. He’d lead before because he had to, because he lead the expedition. He PUSHES PAPERS! “I PUSH PAPERS, NOT LEAD SUPERHEROES!” The thought echoed through his head so loudly he had to place a hand to his temple to prevent it from knocking a hole in his skull and escaping. The glaring whole in his plan was just pointed out to him by a large bug. He clearly wasn’t cut out for it.

But he was raised English, and he’d be damned if he would show an ounce of weakness. “Of course, very good. I’ll go in to flush him out, everyone else covers the front and back. Newton, you should be overlooking the structure, so you can cut him off if he runs. Coolant, out the front, where he will only feel confident going if he is leaving in force and quite powerful. Sting, watch the back, where he will go if he’s running and scared. Does this sound right to everyone?”

(grrr, stupid double post)

Once the police arrived and took away the thugs, Mystic brought Newton some aspirin and a cold Dew. “And now for the official debriefing. It seems that our friend Sudden, has been hired by a man named Rome, whom he met at a bar called the Bad Harley. According to the description, it’s going to be hard to pick this guy out of the crowd. He’s about five eight, mid forties, balding, slight build, but pudgy. Basically he described every middle aged man in the city. He has a couple of details that might help. His left eye is blue, and his right is green. He wears cuff links with an image of a ship on them. He limps slightly on his left side and favors his left arm a bit. He’s supposed to meet with this man again tomorrow at around seven. I suggest we infiltrate the bar and blend in with the local populace.”

Mystic looked around the room. “Right, terribly sorry. I’ll come up with a new plan straight away.” Mystic shook his head. “Perhaps we’ll just go in and look for him. He doesn’t sound too dangerous himself. If we keep our eyes open, we might just live through it. Aside from that, our luck will be that this place is a dive and there won’t be anyone to blend in with. This one could be the individual that makes or breaks this investigation. It’s very important that we treat this one with caution. I’ve secured some arrest tags. They take four seconds to work once you activate them, and we only have 12, so use them sparingly. Place them on the criminal for transport. Now remember, he has to be incapacitated for the tag to work, otherwise he could just pull it off.”

"Nope, he's just too quick for us." Mystic slapped his hands together. "I'll explain later, right now we should get downstairs."

“Needless to say, we’ll be ordering doors. Is that the last of the neighborhood youth come to donate sports equipment?” Mystic pointed past Sting to the doorway. “We don’t have any arrest tabs yet, so we’re going to have to hold them the old fashioned way until the police arrive. I’m afraid our cold blooded friend overpowered me and got away before we could get any useful information from him.”

Mystic wasn’t accustomed to lying, but saw it more of “playing a part”, like the interrogation room. He made sure that he cut short any questions as he dialed the police. He didn’t even notice that he was still flying until he tried to find something to write with and found no tabletops near the ceiling. He herded the wounded thugs into the lobby and waited for the police.

Mystic flared off another bolt at a would-be ambusher and then swooped down on Newton’s position. He grabbed him up with great difficulty. “Wow, can make… everything… lighter… but him… gah!” Settling for a close place of relative safety, Mystic unceremoniously deposited Newton on a nearby couch which was in plain sight of Coolant but out of the main fight. After Newton hit the couch like a sack of potatoes, Mystic quickly opened a box of donuts that was sitting on a coffee table near the couch and heated them to a temperature very close to that of “fresh from the oven” before flying out one of the windows that was boarded up and into the second story through a different boarded up window.

“You idiot, you’re going to get yourself killed!” It was Sudden’s voice. Mystic silently flew in behind the newcomer, ready to fry him to a crisp if it came to it. The young thug was busy trying to untie Sudden when Mystic came upon him. He saw something he didn’t expect to see, fear in Sudden’s eyes.

The younger thug was probably only sixteen, but was the spitting image of Sudden Chill. Mystic was already in the middle of his spell as he came in, but decided to change targets, choosing the whiteboard on the wall of the interrogation room instead of the back of the young thug. The whiteboard flew off the wall, ablaze and the young thug went backward over a table trying to avoid the flaming object.

“DANNY!” Sudden was only partially untied and hurled a frosty mist at the younger thug to keep him safe from the flames.

Mystic rolled his eyes as Sudden looked pleadingly at him. Then the mage set down behind the youth who had thrown off the no longer burning debris and was searching the doorway for his assailant. With one punch, the young man went down. Then Mystic grabbed his hand in pain. “Sod a duck! Now I remember why I don’t bloody do that!”

“Thanks.” It was a big thing to say for a tough guy. It made Mystic stop whining about his comparatively insignificant sacrifice.

“Yes, well, we’re still dealing with your brother’s ill conceived escape attempt downstairs, so let’s have you two brilliantly escape out a window post haste.” Mystic untied Sudden as he looked at him quizzically. “It means right now.”

“Oh!” Chill picked up his younger brother and flew out the window that Mystic had busted open. Then Mystic returned downstairs to see if there were any more problems brewing.

Coolant shifted his voice controls to the loudest setting to both intimidate and attract attention, “I think you two gentlemen are lost. Allow me to escort you from the premises.”

"Oh bloody hell, if it isn't one thing..." Mystic turned from the door to the place he was calling "bed", back to where Newton was sitting. Walking was painful, so it would have to be flying that took him to the wall near the shouting. He hovered where he could see Coolant around the offices and pillars.

Coolant was addressing someone, loudly. Mystic resolved himself to waiting until some action occurred. If there were infiltrators, who knows how many there could be, or what their plan was. It was then that he flew up behind a pillar and looked behind him to see yet another thug attempting to sneak up on him, holding a pipe.

Mystic set off the alarm on his radio and encircled the thug in flames, seconds later throwing a fireball that landed behind Coolant, flashing flame out in all directions around him, but leaving him, and if he did the spell right, the inanimate objects, untouched by the flame.

Wow, someone needs to learn the definition of the word "summary". He said comic book, not fifteen volume set.

The basics for mine would be a normal person's struggle to keep up with super heroes. The social problems, not being a super so not being accepted by them, and yet normal humans can't fathom him either. So it would mostly be about trying to stay sane, and all the things that go into that when really crazy stuff happens in your life. Probably an exaggerated version of what goes on in most people's lives. Something that has some aspects people can lock onto and go "yeah, that's like my situation at work, but with aliens and guns and stuff. And my boss can't shoot laser beams out of his sock puppet."

Coolant stopped for Mystics response but then quickly added, “If you do wish me to stay, however, I will answer any further questions you have. Even if I would prefer not to.”

Mystic stared at him. “Yes, I see. That is something you’ll have to work on. I suppose you should be punished in some way, since it would be terrible to reduce our strength by twenty five percent on day two. So…” Mystic looked around the room. “You’ll need to fix that radiator by next week. If you can’t do that, then you can have someone come in and replace it… or you’re fired.”

Mystic turned away from Coolant. “I don’t fancy losing anyone. Course I don’t much fancy being in command. I’ll be the first to tell you when you’re too much of a liability. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get some rest before I let everyone know what I found out from our unwilling guest.”

"Look at it this way, at least you didn't freeze up in combat. I mean... well... hmmm."

Newton nodded slowly. "That was right before he collapsed. It does make sense now."

Mystic hobbled over, pretending not to hear the last portion of the sentence. “And how are you chaps holding up? Morale in the dumps? Moping about is it? Or have you reconciled with your first debacle and resolved to do better yet?”

Before they could answer, Mystic held his hand up. “Brilliant! You chaps saved my bacon today, recklessly throwing yourselves into a melee that I started too early. Awful bad show on my part, I shan’t let you down like that again. Thank you for throwing yourselves into harms way. Why if Coolant hadn’t overpowered himself then my foolish shenanigans might have gotten that girl killed. I’m going to have a lie down, then we can discuss what our friend in the cooler has been chattering about. Get some rest everyone, big workings this evening.”

Mystic headed for the bunkhouse to have a nap. He’d only thought to bring painkillers, not a whole medical kit. It would be one of the first things he’d have to acquire if things were going to go like this every time. He just hoped they weren’t. He also hoped that if his crew were smart enough to see through his shifting of the blame to him, they would be polite enough to just go with it. He felt Coolant deserved to have some leeway for his volunteer status. It would be bad if everyone looked at him like a liability.

[[Back. No, just lannies. ]]

“Hey boss, I’m thinking since Brander was moving in on this guys turf, he might be willing to sell him out without too much effort. What’cha think?”

Mystic took only a second to ponder the question. “Brilliant. I’ll just pop in on him and see what he has to say now that he’s in custody AND owes his skin to heroes.”

Mystic spent some quality time with Sudden Chill, very slowly explaining the facts of life to him. “Now, as I see it, it looks like you may have had your butt saved by heroes in front of a number of other Outcasts. So if you just walk out of here, then it will be your own men who rat you out as being a… what do they call that? Oh, yes, a rat.”

“What guys?” It wasn’t very convincing. Perhaps his mind was on his recent loss at the game of love.

“Oh, you know, the two you set up to watch the Two Six and report back to you. Blonde gentleman, about so high, likes Cheetos.” Mystic held his hand up to indicate height.

“They wouldn’t rat on me.” His confidence was obviously not rock solid.

“They wouldn’t know not to. And you don’t know which side of the building they set up on, do you?” Mystic was taking a chance with that one, but it paid off. Sudden Chill looked around the room like it was his first time in the station. “I didn’t think so. So they will see their mate come out of the Two Six, unmolested, and immediately make you for someone who sang like a swallow. So why not burn mr. Brander and those that have supported his moves on you, by taking everyone down a notch and stay OUT from under the burning roof when it comes down?”

The thug smiled. “Because this has nothing to do with the Outcasts. Sure, we hired the trolls, gave them the target and generally ran the police off, but we didn’t do it for ourselves. That information is going to cost you.”

Mystic sighed. “I hate lengthy negotiations, so this is what I have in mind. You tell us what we want to know, and then we set up a bunch of furniture at the entrance that’s being watched. You blow it up and fly away and tell everyone you caught us napping. Try to include that we were incompetent.”

Later on, Mystic hobbled into the common area and stirred some milk into the tea he was carrying.

Upon reaching the mage, Coolant deliberately bumped into a nearby desk to get his attention. It usually took people a while to get used to the fact that he could move around quietly in his armor; he figured it was a good idea not to surprise the flame throwing Mystic.

“Good afternoon, my friends. Excuse me, Inferno, can I talk to you privately for a moment?”

“Oh, hello.” Mystic looked around the room. “Looks like we’re alone, unless someone can turn invisible that I’m not aware of.”

[[Sorry, guys, I went away on vacation and didn’t tell anyone.]]

Mystic was busy peeling the bullet off his robes. Not having anything more than a first aid, kit, he was limited in exactly what he could do. Medically, Mystic had above average training, but he was no doctor. He cleaned and bandaged the wound. He shrugged off offers for assistance, insisting that he would be fine. He had, in fact, had several wounds in his time far worse. However, he mostly tried to stay OUT of the line of fire.

This latest firefight brought the reality of this new situation and their vulnerability to light. Suddenly, Mystic was wishing that they had doors that locked on the first level as well.

“How is the poultice working?” Mystic pointed to the lettuce.

Mystic checked on Coolant as well. “Are you up and about?”

Then to Newton, “You were the glue today. Without you, it would have gone really wrong.” As Mystic hobbled off to go see to Sudden, he stopped and turned back over his shoulder. “If you see something that might serve as a cane, be a good lad and point it out, would you?”

Sudden didn’t wake up for hours. And when he did, he wished he didn’t. Mystic thought it would be a good idea to store him in interrogation room two. The table was kindling, the walls were smashed by large bug man and trolls, and the chair he was sitting in was both bent, and metal.

Mystic flew down behind Coolant, hoping to inspire him to give that extra effort. "Three more steps!" Mystic grabbed hold of Coolant as he gave Brander a taste of his own medicine. As Coolant began to lurch forward, Mystic incanted his sphere of flight spell and tried to keep Coolant awake by yelling at him. "Just hang in a few more! We can get everyone out of here!"

Mystic turned toward Sting, "Give me a hand." Then he spun toward Newton, "Home! Take Sudden! Pull us back, starting with Coolant!"

The distant sound of sirens was almost welcome. The not so distant sound of Outcast re-enforcements wasn't.

Mystic heard the shot and saw the blood. He was nearly right over Sting when it happened. It was just too much. He unleashed the most powerful magics he possessed, one right after another.

The first streaked to the gunman engulfing him in blazing hot flame, the second hit him and the gunman next to him, and Mystic followed it with a blast of flame breathed out from under his mask. The scream was quickly silenced by the lack of oxygen, as the gunman that fired on Poison Sting fell first to his knees, then face forward.

Mystic hovered there, turning to Brander in mid air, flames still trailing from his hand and said, "run."

(double post)