BlueBattler

There isn’t much that can surprise DJ Zero.

He’s aware when the Envoy of Light enters Pocket D, of course. There isn’t much that goes on in the D that he doesn’t know about.

He is surprised when the Envoy of Shadows also enters the D, though.

DJ Zero’s face doesn’t change expression, but he does swallow nervously. He’s had gods and demons in Pocket D before, but the Envoys are something else entirely. Of all the joints in the multiverse they had to walk into mine …

Everywhere Monica Cole looks she sees heroes.

She doesn’t know any of them. Her time has long past, and even the immortals that she sees did not know her, do not remember Maiden Justice as anything other than a legend. Because of that, she allows herself the luxury of appearing with her true face—if not her actual costume.

But she sees men and women—and creatures that are neither and sometimes both—who have dedicated themselves to making the world a better place.

It feels like home.

And then a darkness that only she can see and a coldness that only she can feel makes itself known to her. It is hatred, violence, and greed. It is ice and shadow, and a fire that exists for no other reason than to consume what it touches.

It is the Envoy of Shadows.

“Hello, Monica. It’s good to see you again.” The Envoy of Shadows settles down into the seat next to her. It’s come as a succubus this time—no different from any of the creatures that serve as bouncers for DJ Zero in the Rogue Isles. The eyes—the eyes though give it away.

“Hello—“ And she says the name of the thing in front of her.

The Envoy of Shadows winces, but has no other reaction. For a moment, the two of them sit there and look at each other. “You didn’t really think you’d redeem him, did you?”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Monica says as she takes a sip of her drink.

“Does it hurt to know that your own flesh and blood is bound and determined to destroy the man you loved, and your descendents?”

Monica simply looks at her. “Does it bother you to know there is still one spark of goodness in a man that you have cultivated as an avatar of destruction?” She sips her drink. “Stefan loved me. He loves me still. For all the horrors that he has done—all the evil that he has wrought—he still possesses the capacity to love.” She smiles. “That means that not all of him belongs to you—and that means that there is still a chance.”

“You think that one act of mercy will change destiny?”

“Why not? It’s done so in the past.”

The Envoy of Shadows laughs. “He is mine, Monica. And through him, the world will yet belong to us.”

“That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?” Monica stares into the eyes of the not-succubus and offers a steely smile. “Now if you don’t mind, I want to enjoy my drink in peace. Leave. Now.”

The Envoy of Shadows stares at her for a moment, and for a moment she threatens to swell into her true form.

“Good evening, ladies. Do we have a problem here?” DJ Zero does not walk over. Space simply accommodates his presence where it is needed.

“Oh no. My friend here was just leaving.” Monica smiles sweetly at the Envoy of Shadows. “Weren’t you?”

The Envoy stares at Monica, and then at DJ Zero. “Another time,” she says at last. “Another time.”

“We have all the time in the world, you and I.” Monica finishes her drink. “But for now, this meeting is over. Go.” And her eyes begin to glow with a pure white light. “Unless you feel like facing both DJ Zero and myself, that is.”

DJ Zero swallows again, but nods his head.

The Envoy of Shadows gets up and walks away without another word. She disappears in a cloud of brimstone before she’s walked five feet.

DJ Zero exhales. “Thank—“ He grins at Monica. “You know.”

“Yes, I know.” Monica stands up. “I suppose I should be going too. I know that you’re not allowed to take sides.”

“I’m afraid not.” DJ Zero pauses and then curiosity overcomes his manners. “Was It right?”

“What?”

“Did you really hope that you were going to be able reclaim Stefan Richter?”

Monica smiles sadly. “I won’t lie and say that I didn’t hope that he’d reconsider his goals, but I really didn’t expect him to.”

“Then why go to him? Why let him see you after all these years?”

“Stefan wasn’t the one I was sent to save.”

“Amanda Vines?”

“Amanda Vines.” Monica nods. “There is very little in the way of goodness in the Rogue Isles. She has no super human powers, no magical might, but Amanda Vines is one of the strongest forces for good in Stefan’s domain. The people see her and know that even in the hell that Stefan has created there is still good in the world. She gives them hope.

“And I was sent to try to keep that hope alive.”

“And you did.”

“Stefan did. I just helped him reach that decision.” She looks down. “Now I really have to go before someone sees me. Thank you for your hospitality, DJ Zero.”

DJ Zero smiles. “It’s what I do.”

She kisses him on the cheek. “Thank you again, DJ.” She pauses. “The next time you see Marcus or the girls—“

“Yes?”

She sighs. “Nothing.”

“They still love you too, you know.”

“I know. But they’ve moved on. Even Marcus—or at least he’s starting to. I won’t cause them pain just because I miss them. Goodbye, DJ.”

“Goodbye, Monica.”

She fades away like wind chimes in an autumn wind.

DJ Zero sits down at the table she had left. “I need a drink,” he says to no one in particular.

One materializes in front of him.

“Thank you.” He raises the drink in a toast. “To love and hope—and Maiden Justice.”

And he drinks.

Heh. I have a fanfiction account too, but no coh stories on it.

I have to admit I'd love for a redname to comment to me on some of my stories ...

He flies through her immaterial body and lands flat on his face.

“Ah, Stefan. For a man who’s always prided himself on his intellect, you have a distressing tendency to think with your fists.”

He spits another curse as he uses his limbs to right himself. “I am Recluse! I will not suffer your presence a moment longer!”

“Just a few more minutes, Stefan. Please.”

The “please” is what stops him. Pleas for mercy are nothing new to him, but something about that word reminds him of the innocent days before he went into the trenches of war. “What now?”

“You will not reconsider?”

“No!” He pauses and then speaks more softly, more humanely, than he has in a long time. “Monica, can’t you see that this is of no use? I have killed countless thousands. I have murdered children in front of their mothers. Even if I did repent—even if I did wish to change—it’s far too late for that. Some things cannot be forgiven.”

“I don’t believe that, Stefan.”

“It’s the nature of angels to believe in hope, is it not?” Again he wishes he could smile beneath his mask.

“I am an Envoy of Light, Stefan. You remain in darkness because you choose it.” She smiles softly, and then lays a hand on his heart. “Remember me, Stefan.”

“I have never forgotten you, Monica. I never shall.”

“I have to go now, Stefan, but I will always be with you in spirit. I still love you, my brother. I will always love you. And I will hope that someday you find the strength to turn from the darkness. Goodbye, Stefan.”

“Farewell, my sister. Farewell.”

And only silver chimes mark her passing as he is left alone … again.


“My Lord Recluse, are you awake?”

A dream, he thinks. Of course it was nothing but a dream.

He raises his head and looks at his throne room. He gazes at the shattered console. Or perhaps it was more than a dream … “What is it, Leon?”

“What is it, Leon?”

“I have brought Ms. Vines, my Lord. She’s waiting outside. Shall I arrange her ‘accident’ now?”

For a long moment, he says nothing.

“My Lord?”

“Bring her in, Leon. I would speak with her.”

Flanked by two massive guards, Amanda Vines looks frail, frightened, and exhausted. “Good morning, my Lord Recluse.”

“Good morning, Ms. Vines. I trust you slept well?”

Her lips quirk in a smile. “In truth, I have had better nights, my Lord.”

“Indeed.” He stares at her. She’s so young. She knows that I hold her life in the palm of my hand, but she does not beg or plead. She does not try to bewitch me with feminine wiles. She is afraid, but she is ready to die on her feet. “Leon.”

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Have Ms. Vines escorted to my private dining quarters. I will be there momentarily.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Marshall Brass glares a command at her Guards who gesture for Amanda to follow them.

“Wait here, Leon. I want to speak with you.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Amanda says nothing to either of them. She doesn’t look right or left or make any move to escape. She walks away with her head held high.

“You will see to her passing personally, my Lord?” Brass asks him, looking slightly queasy.

“She is not going to die this day, Leon. I have decided to let her live.”

“My Lord—! The danger!”

“I rule the Rogue Isles with an iron fist, Leon. I care little for public outcry. The people know they live on my sufferance. If Arachnos cannot survive the prying of one lone reporter, then we are not fit to exist ourselves.” He ***** his head in an inhuman way. “I am sure that you will continue to manage her as adroitly as you already have. In fact, I insist that you do so.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Leon Brass till tell him what he does not wish to hear, but he is not fool enough to argue.

“Make sure that all records she might have that might prove … problematic are destroyed, Leon. You can do that while Ms. Vines and I share breakfast.”

“Yes, my Lord. I will see to it at once!”

“Very good, Leon. I leave it in your capable hands then.” He turns and leaves without another word.

Amanda Vines is waiting for him when he reaches his quarters.

“Ms. Vines, please be seated. I will have breakfast brought to us. After we have eaten, I will see to it that you are returned safely home.”

“Home--?”

“Yes. I regret that I do not have time to conduct an interview with you today, but my duties demand too much of my time for social pleasantries.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Amanda sits down. She’s still trembling, but she understands now that she is not going to die this morning. Her eyes are alight with curiosity.

Recluse walks to the window and looks out at the city. His city. “Ms. Vines?”

“Yes, my Lord?”

I do this for you, my beloved sister. This one thing—this one act of mercy—I do in your name. Amanda Vines will not die at my order, Monica. I do this one thing, but I will not alter my plans or repent my deeds! I am Recluse! This world is mine for the taking!

And someday, your precious Marcus will lie dead at my feet …


“Let me tell you about my sister …”

I do have a question though, Leigh.

Was "Megan" meant to be a young Ms. Liberty?

A Clockwork Princess (Hope's Story) is ready for review if you care to do one for the Scoop, Mr. Grey.

I'm hoping to add more to her story later, but it'll probably be a while ...

For a moment, he holds her. He breathes in the scent of youth, of innocence. He remembers what it was like to be young, human, and loved.

Then he snaps her neck.

The body of the little girl slips from his hands and lands on the floor with a heavy thud.

“I’m sorry, Monica. But I cannot change what I am or go back to what I had been. I am Lord Recluse. My feet are forever set on the path of conquest.”

The body of the little girl shimmers and the chimes make a mournful sound.

He watches it disappear and turns his back.

“Not so fast, Stefan.” The laughter chimes again, but it has a sad tune this time. “You don’t really think you can kill a dead woman, do you?”

She’s Maiden Justice when he turns around. “Must I kill every one of your incarnations to be rid of you, sister?”

“I can’t stay much longer, Stefan, so you’ll soon be alone again.” She sighs. “But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Yes. Yes it does.” He laughs then. “Did you think that I took the name Recluse because I like company?”

“Look around you, Stefan. You have ruled the Rogue Isles for decades, and what have you created? Nothing but ruin and misery.”

“The strong survive. The weak perish. That is as it should be.”

“You rule an ash heap, Stefan. Is that the sort of world you wish to create?”

“Once I have achieved control, I will create order out of chaos. I will make this world a paradise.”

“Any world where the strong crush the weak will never be a paradise. You used to know that. Father taught you better than that.”

“Do not speak of him!”

“Why not? Because you remember killing him?”

“It was necessary!”

“How many decades have you been telling yourself that, Stefan? Do you believe it yet? I don’t think you do.” Maiden Justice looks at her brother and shakes her head sadly. “You could have been so much more than this, Stefan.”

“I was born to rule, Monica. The day is coming when I will rule all. I have schemes and plans that you do not know of—“ He stops. “Or do you know of them? Is that why you are here?”

“I know what you have planned, Stefan. I know your intentions.”

“Have you told Marcus?”

“I can’t. I’m no longer a part of the mortal world, Stefan. I am not allowed to interfere. Marcus will have to defeat you without any help from me.”

“He will not win this time, Monica! This time it will be different! I have worked for years on this plan. Nothing will go wrong! Nothing!”

“Don’t you say that every time before Marcus stops you?”

“Enough! I have heard your plea and rejected it, Monica. Begone! Trouble me no more, ghost!”

“Oh, Stefan. You still don’t know what I am, do you?” She laughs. “I am not some Earthbound spirit like your poor Ghost Widow. I am something much more …”

“And just what are you, Monica?”

Her uniform disappears and is replaced by a pure white robe. A circle of light appears above her head. A mighty silver sword materializes in her hands. “Do you know me for what I am now, Stefan Richter …?”

The tips of his limbs glow red with power. He tenses himself for combat. “Ghost or angel, you will not cow me, woman! Leave now or not even Heaven itself will protect you from my fury!”

The spirit of Monica Richter looks at him and laughs.

And with a wordless cry of rage, Lord Recluse hurls himself at her throat.

I liked it.

I have given some thought to trying to adapt the story of Hope's Dad to MA.

I hope so...

I'd have a lot of fun doing some of the TFs with Hope.

She'd have a thing or two to tell Synapse ...

That's okay, Cuddles. I understand.

Sorry hadn't run Hope yet, but she really doesn't feel right as an energy melee tank.. she truly needs to be an electric melee tank... but that probably won't happen till I15 at the earliest...
:sad:

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Getting back to the story, I have to admit that I'm having a difficult time buying this one. I'm not sure that Stefan Richter requires the humanizing touch. I'm willing to see where it goes, though.

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I understand. I'm quite willing to concede that this story may fail. No one gets a home run every time they come up at bat.

I'll have more to say about the motivation for this story when it's done.

I will say this, though: the story is as much about Monica Cole as it is about Lord Recluse, possibly even more so.

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I have two questions...

How do you know Maiden Justice's name was Monica?

WHO THE [FRACK] WAS JESSICA!? The game info clearly says Ms. Liberty is named Megan Duncan, and that Miss Liberty is Alexis Cole. Who the Hell is Statesman yelling about in the comics!?

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Read ze books, heretic.

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Yes, yes... I hear this one a lot. Problem is, there's a schism as to whether or not all of that is considered canon (according to MANY arguments I've perused throughout the forums during my almost three-year tenure here). There's a lot of stuff in those that contradicts what's in-game, and the game is still running.

Another problem is that I can't find the books, but you're probably going to send me a link and mention something about "search-fu."

Condescension is the passtime of the Internet.

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Yeah, canon is up to dispute.

I don't recall where I read it, but originally Maria Jenkins was going to be Maiden Justice before they retconned it. I don't recall if she was also going to be Statesman's wife and Ms. Liberty's grandmother. I wouldn't be surprised, though; after all, it wouldn't be surprising that his wife would be so concerned about his disappearance.

I suppose that they decided against that because even Maiden Justice would be nearing the century mark if she was still alive and she wasn't established as having prolonged youth like Statesman ...

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I have two questions...

How do you know Maiden Justice's name was Monica?

WHO THE [FRACK] WAS JESSICA!? The game info clearly says Ms. Liberty is named Megan Duncan, and that Miss Liberty is Alexis Cole. Who the Hell is Statesman yelling about in the comics!?

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The two COH novels give her name as Monica Richter. Incidentally, Freedom Phalanx is where I got the bit about the flowers from. Forgot to credit it.

“I don’t need saving. And stop calling me Stefan. Stefan Richter is dead. He died decades ago. Only Recluse remains now.”

The sound of crystal chimes laughing again shatters the quiet of his throne room. “Oh, please. There’s only one dead person in this room, and she’s wearing a skirt.” Monica’s lips curve in that smile he remembers so well. “I used to sew the patches on your shorts, Stefan. Don’t go all high and dramatic on me. Spider legs or no, you’re still Stefan Richter. You’re still my brother.”

“Monica is dead. The dead do not come back.” The assertion comes to him automatically before he even has a chance to realize the absurdity of his answer.

“I’m sure that Ghost Widow would find that statement fascinating, Stefan.”

“Monica died more than twenty years ago. She was an old woman when she died. Why would she come back looking like you? Why would she come to me at all? Her family lives in Paragon City.”

The girl shimmers and becomes an older but still handsome woman. “I can look like this if you really prefer it, Stefan, but I’d like to think that you would pardon an old woman’s vanity. When you spend your life married to a man that doesn’t so much as get a gray hair during fifty years of marriage you tend to get a little sensitive about your appearance.” She shimmers again and resumes her youthful guise.

“That hasn’t answered why you—why Monica—would choose to haunt me rather than her family.”

“Haunt is the wrong word, Stefan.” She does a somersault across his desk, landing in her Maiden Justice uniform. “Marcus and the girls do not need me. They have moved on with their lives. You ...”

“I moved on a long time ago, Monica. You cast your lot with Mar—with Statesman. From that moment on, you were as dead to me.”

An image appears in the air before him … of the flowers called spider orchids. “’Be brave, my beloved sister. Stefan.’ Remember sending me those flowers, Stefan?”

“I remember.”

“You signed the note ‘Stefan.’ Not Recluse. Stefan. And you remembered me. As I lay dying, you thought of your little sister.” Again she smiled sadly. “As I thought of you every day of my life, and all the days that have passed since.”

“It was part of my plan to rattle Marcus. Nothing more.”

“So now he’s ‘Marcus’, is he?”

His limbs twitch in frustration. “Again I ask you; what do you want?”

“I already told you. I’m here to save you, Stefan.” Maiden Justice shimmers down to a little girl; the same little girl that Monica had been when she had said goodbye to her brother and his best friend on the eve of World War I. “I swear, you and Marcus are both so dense sometimes! No wonder you were so close!”

“We were never close!” Bursts of energy flash from his spider limbs at the ghost from his past. “Marcus was never my friend!”

The little girl smiles as the bolts pass through her. “You’re right, Stefan. Marcus wasn’t your friend.” Again she becomes the girl reporter. “He was your brother.”

“No!” With a double fisted blow he smashes the console in front of him into splinters. “He was an ally, a flunky! He was a means to an end! He was never my friend! He meant nothing to me! You meant nothing to me!”

“Liar, liar. Pants on fire.” She’s still a young woman, but her voice is the high pitched squeak of the little girl that used to blush every time Marcus Cole spoke to her. “If Marcus never meant anything to you then why does it hurt when I remind you of it? Why do you dream of the old days when the two of you fought side by side instead of against each other? Why is it whenever you’re fighting for your life you keep expecting him to be guarding your back? Why is it every time you’ve had a chance to kill him you’ve found some reason to spare him?”

The girl reporter becomes the old woman she had been at her death: frail, sickly, a shadow of the person she had been. It hurts to see her like this. “You miss him, Stefan. You miss your friend. You miss your brother.”

“Monica,” he whispers, “what do you want from me?”

The old woman becomes once more the little girl. “Give it up, Stefan. The schemes for world domination. The insatiable lust for power and control. The empty mantle of Lord Recluse. Throw it away. Give Marcus his brother back. Give me my brother back.

“Come home, Stefan. Be Stefan Richter again.” Little girl arms wrap around his neck and he feels ghostly little girl lips kiss his cheek. “Come back to us. Please come back. Please.”

And as he had done so long ago when the child Monica had first said those words to him, Stefan Richter hugs his sister tightly to him as though he would never let her go....

I'll see if I can snap a picture of him. Didn't realize they change appearance...

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Also, they may have plans of their own for CK and Penny ...

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If it's to be evidenced by the end of the mission where you rescue her from the Rikti and Clockwork in the LGTF, then their story borders more on the psychotic stalker side.

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I have to admit I was really disappointed by that scene. Neither of them came off well. CK came across as Psycho Stalker Boy and Penny herself came across as insensitive to CK's feelings, at best.

I much prefer my version.

I sent him a link to it when I first finished it.

I suspect that its length may have kept him from reading it.

The guy does have to work, after all.

Also, they may have plans of their own for CK and Penny ...

In other news, ARGH!

I popped into Ouroboros last night, and I found Colin!

The Acolyte behind Mender Roebuck (the store in Ouroboros) actually has a physical look that somewhat matches my view of Colin.

So if anyone is curious what the love of Hope's life looks like, you can see him there.

I'll let you know when Hope begins her heroic trek, Cuddles.

Good luck, Cuddles!

Oh, and belated happy birthday!

I'm sure there are many talented writers out there, but I am not willing to concede they are going to be better than all of us.

There are some remarkably talented people who write on this forum.

Marshall Brass always looks him straight in the eye … something that has always earned his respect. Sycophants were occasionally amusing, but never useful. Brass was one of the few men in the entire Rogue Isles willing to tell him things that he did not wish to hear. “My Lord Recluse, Amanda Vines should die.”

“We all will die sometime, Leon. Even I. Why do you feel that Ms. Vines has finally become enough of a nuisance that we should take the step of disposing her?”

“You read my report regarding the entire Aeon Conspiracy?”

“Of course.” The spider limbs on his back twitch in irritation. “Your report indicates that the situation was contained. Is there something more that I should know?”

“This time. The woman is absolutely fearless. She continues to search for the truth. Sooner or later she will find it.”

Just like Monica, he finds himself thinking with surprising fondness. “You brought her with you, of course?”

“Yes. She has been taken into protective custody after the … incident.”

“Very well, bring her to me.”

Marshall Brass started, but did not otherwise show any signs of surprise. “Yes, My Lord. Right away.” He walks to the door and barks out an order.

Amanda Vines is brought into his office. She’s still wearing the same outfit she’d been wearing when she had tried to break the news of the Aeon Conspiracy. More than twelve hours in custody, her fate uncertain, she doesn’t look cowed at all. “Lord Recluse.”

“Hello, Ms. Vines. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I have always enjoyed your broadcasts.” Bravery is one of the few things that can still impress him.

“I would be delighted to interview you, my Lord. I’m sure the public would love a chance to learn more about their leader.” She is brave, but she is not a fool. He can hear the fear in her voice; it makes him respect her all the more that she continues to meet his gaze.

“Have you had a chance to eat yet, Ms. Vines? I realize that your accommodations have been rather … Spartan, but I would not want it said that a guest of mine suffered unnecessarily.”

“I’m fine, my Lord.”

“Leon—Marshall Brass—tells me that you have done an impressive bit of reporting in regards to Doctor Aeon. It appears that your life was in danger several times.”

“I go where the truth leads me, my Lord.” Again that steady gaze.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Brass watching their exchange. He wonders what Leon is thinking. Unlike many dictators, Lord Recluse has never been known for a hedonistic lifestyle or having a weakness for a pretty face. His blood is too cold for that. “Sometimes the truth can lead you to places you would do well to leave alone, Ms. Vines.”

“As I understand it, my Lord, you have never shirked from going where truth lies.”

Silence.

“I’m afraid that it is getting rather late, Ms. Vines. Marshall Brass will escort you to your quarters for the night. If you should need something, do not hesitate to ask.” He turned his red eyed gaze to Brass. “Leon himself will stand at your door to make sure your needs are taken care of.”

Brass bows. “It will be an honor, Ms. Vines.”

“Good night, Ms. Vines. We will speak in the morning.”

“It was an honor to meet you, my Lord.”

“And you as well, Ms. Vines. You as well. Leon, have your guards escort Ms. Vines to the guest quarters in the central tower. It has a lovely view of the city. I would speak to you for a moment before you join Ms. Vines.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Amanda Vines does not look back as she is escorted from the room.

“She’s a brave girl,” he murmurs.

“She’s a woman, my Lord. She’s a dangerous woman. I still say we should kill her now.” He knows that Recluse has ordered the deaths of women—and even children—before. Why does this particular woman rate such forbearance from him now?

In truth, he’s not sure himself. He’s a student of history. He knows that things would be easier if he disposed of Ms. Vines once and for all, but he finds himself reluctant to give the order. “Guard her well, Leon. I will decide her fate tonight.” He pauses. “It is, however, probably wise if you begin to think of what sort of ‘accident’ could befall her in protective custody.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Brass bows again.

“In the meantime, she is not to be harmed. She is not to contact anyone else, but anything she desires by way of comfort is to be provided her. Food, drink, a change of clothing, a bath. Whatever she requires. There is no reason her possible last night on Earth should be an uncomfortable one.”

“I will see to it myself, my Lord.”

“Remember, Leon. No harm is to come to her until I say so.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

“You may go.”

He’s alone again. But then again, he’s always alone. Even when his vaunted lieutenants share this room with him, he stands apart. He is Lord Recluse, after all.

No sooner has Brass and the others left, then he hears a strange twinkle as though of a crystal wind chime.

His limbs tense in preparation for combat.

“Who’s there?”

The crystal chime again … but this time it sounds like laughter.

Familiar laughter.

“No,” he whispers. “It can’t be. You’re dead.”

“Oh, Stefan.” The chimes are merry, practically a giggle. “You never change. You’re so certain that you know what is possible and what is not.”

“Show yourself, imposter!” The tips of his limbs glow with energy as he searches the room with all his senses—human and otherwise—to find his hidden companion. How dare someone imitate her voice!

“I’m here, Stefan.” The chimes continue after the words stop, and a pure white light appears from nowhere, banishing the darkness of his throne room.

It doesn’t burn, he thinks in a kind of dull wonder. This light doesn’t burn me.

“Of course it doesn’t, silly. I’m not here to cause you pain.” The light shimmers and takes on human shape. “I’m here to help you.”

The girl—she seems to be little more than a teenager—is dark haired, with cupid bow’s lips. She’s wearing a woman’s business suit that’s almost a century out of date. Her eyes are the only thing that’s obviously not human; they shine with a pure white light that pulses like a heartbeat.

“It can’t be,” he whispers. “Not you …”

“I’m not here to hurt you, Stefan,” she repeats again with a cheeky grin. “I’m here to save you!”

“My sister,” he says in a harsh whisper. “Monica …”

Yes, Hope is a tank. She's gotta be up in the face of her Daddy when she tries to reason with him.

Right now, I have Hope on hold, LC. I'm not really all that enthusiastic about Energy Melee yet ... I'm hoping that Electric Melee will make it in the next round of powerset proliferation...

So hold that slot open. I think I might like to build a SG.

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bravo again, BB.

i think i like this one more than any you've done previously.

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Oh, thank you very much!

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Oh, MY GAHD !!!!

Which server, please?

Or is this permission for players to run their own versions?

D***!

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I have a version of Hope on Guardian and another on Virtue.

I was hoping that electric melee would get ported over to tanks, but it's not likely to happen in the near future.

I was hoping that maybe some people would help me run some task forces when I get her up to the proper level ... Hope definitely has to do Synapse as well as the RWZ one.

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What levels are those 'Hopes'? What ATs?

I will start a Toon and join her. My toon will definately be a tech origin. Tanker if hero, MM if villain. Either way, will be named 'Hopeful Mech' with its own 'hopeful' bio.

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Hope is a willpower/em tank.

I keep hoping that they're going to port electric melee over to heroside so i've not done much with her yet..