BlueBattler

While not one of my favorite writers, I have enjoyed much of what she has written over the years. RIP Anne. Have a safe journey between.

Anne McCafrrey passes on.

Considering what Lori told him, Rick is acting a little too good here...

There are two emotions that a Binder of Demons can never allow himself while he works his craft: doubt and fear.

To doubt one’s ability to control the Demons that he seeks to master can give the Demons the power to turn on the Binder.

Fearing the power of the Demons you seek to Bind can weaken your own might and allow the Demons to also turn on the Binder.

Infernal never allows himself to know either doubt or fear when his Demons are let loose on the world. That was the first rule the Order had taught him when he began his apprenticeship. Doubt and fear are not to be tolerated.

So it is not fear that plagues his mind when he sees Citadel and Luminary lit up by the flashes of their power as they struggle to subdue Statesman. It is not doubt that they will fail that makes him grab his ax all the tighter as he strains his dark-sensitive eyes to see beyond the lightning, the storm, and the sheer naked power. He is a Binder of Demons. There can be no doubt or fear.

His Demons growl and he realizes for the first time that there was a tone in their cries that he has never heard before:

Fear.

He does not like watching his friends battle. He never has. He made a vow to himself when he lost T’Keron that he would never stand idly by while people he cared for risked themselves.

There had been a time when he never would have considered Citadel or Luminary to be people, let alone friends. When he first came to this world—when Tammy Arcanus first took him his guidance and introduced him to the Freedom Phalanx and the Vindicators, he had not believed an artificial creature—an android?—could ever be called a true hero. Can metal know fear? Can plastic fight for those weaker than itself?

That time was long past.

Time and again, he had seen Citadel stand against the forces of evil—alone or with the Freedom Phalanx. Again and again, he had stood back to back with the android and unleashed fire and force against enemies his people could never have dreamed existed. He had seen Citadel risk total destruction to protect Talos during the first Rikti Invasion.

Artificial or not, the android would not yield in the face of evil.

And Luminary …

K’Varr scowls under his helmet.

The images that come to memory for him as he watches Luminary battle at Citadel’s side are not the countless times they have fought side by side. He does not remember the times they held back Rularuu, Rikti, or Praetorians. He does not remember her standing between the people they are sworn to protect and the forces of evil.

No, he finds himself thinking of the rare times when the Vindicators gathered in friendship rather than battle. He finds himself remembering the time she coaxed him out onto the floor of Pocket D and tried to convince him that it was not beneath his dignity to dance. He thinks of her teasing Swan about her uniform, Malaise about his obsession with Sister Psyche …

And he does not want to think of Malaise just now because he is sworn to preserve the traitor’s life and he does not want to be tempted to break that vow.

And then he thinks of her lips against his cheek….

And the sky is lit up with a blast like an exploding star.

“Nova,” K’Varr mutters.

And scarcely a moment later, he sees a second blast no less powerful than the first.

“Lumi …”

And then a burst of lightning strikes in front of him.

Marcus Cole, the Statesman, stands before him. His masked helm is half torn off, and his cape has been blasted from his body.

His eyes are ablaze with a fury no less than the storm that continues above them.

At his feet lie the battered, broken bodies of Citadel and Luminary.

“Stand aside, K’Varr.”

K’Varr D’Shall of the Order of the Crimson Lotus stares at Citadel, at Luminary, and back into the blazing eyes of Statesman.

K’Varr D’Shall of the Order of the Crimson Lotus does not know doubt or fear.

He does not fear Marcus Cole. He does not fear defeat. He does not fear death.

He does not doubt that he too shall fall this day.

He is K’Varr D’Shall of the Order of the Crimson Lotus. He is Infernal of the Vindicators.

There is only one choice he can make.

He raises his blazing ax and stares into the eyes of a man he would have followed into the gates of Hell itself. He says but one word:

“No.”

I'm just trying to picture a green Frankenstein's Monster leading a "normal" life in a dramatic setting.

A storm has come to Brickstown.

Rain comes down a waterfall. Winds howl like the wailing of a lost child. Lightning strikes with such force that even the Freakshow are not willing to remain on the streets.

Within a matter of minutes, the streets are practically deserted.

“Statesman has never displayed such power before,” Luminary observes, a trace of nervousness on her surprisingly human face.

“The grief of a father is like unto a storm,” Infernal grunts as he summons a horde of demons from his armor to surround the Zig. “An old saying of my world.”

“Evidence suggests that Statesman has already begun to access the power of the Well.” Citadel shifts uncomfortably. “I do not believe he will listen to reason.”

“Then we must make him, android.” Infernal swings his great ax, a trail of flame following behind each stroke.

“On the bright side, this storm will keep civilians out of danger. I’m going to hope that part of Statesman hasn’t totally forgotten what he stands for.” Luminary hugged herself.

“Infernal, Luminary and I will confront Statesman and attempt to reason with him. If that fails, we will attempt to restrain him. If we fail, then your task is to make sure that Statesman does not breach the walls of Zikursky Prison.”

“Statesman has the blood right. I do understand the ways of this world. Malaise has betrayed us all. He deserves no more than death.”

“That’s not how we do things here, K’Varr. Alexis Cole-Duncan would not want blood for blood,” Sister Psyche says as she lands beside them. “And she definitely would not want her father to become a pawn of the Well of Furies.”

“Sister Psyche--- Shalice—do you really think we can stop him?”

“I don’t know, Luminary. I’ve never seen Marcus like this—not even when Monica died. Do you know how long it’s been since he closed his mind to me like this?”

“No.”

“And neither do I. Marcus’s greatest power has always been his self restraint. He’s a powerful, passionate man—and yet he’s spent decades bottling up his rage, his pain, to protect the world. If he’s finally let that go—“

“Sister Psyche, I am picking Statesman up on my sensors.” Citadel levitates into the air. “I suggest that you go inside the prison. Your powers may be the only thing that may be capable of stopping Statesman if we should fail.”

“Citadel—be careful.” Sister Psyche turns and runs towards the Zig.

“Infernal?”

“Yes, Luminary?”

“For luck.” And she brushes her lips against his cheek.

“Luminary—Lumi.” For once, voice of the binder of demons is gentle. “This will not be our last day.”

“Of course not, K’Varr.” And with a smile that belies the fear in her eyes, she flies headlong into the storm with Citadel at her side.

Justin Sinclair does not scare easily.

A man, a normal man—one without special abilities at any rate—does not fight demons, Incarnates, and Demigods with nothing more than trick arrows and a sarcastic tongue without being brave. No, not even his worst enemies would ever accuse the hero called Manticore of being a coward.

But as he tells Marcus Cole of the death of his only daughter—as he looks into the eyes of a man he’s known for decades—Manticore cannot deny that something unlike fear is growing in his heart. “Marcus, I’m so terribly sorry. Alexis was a wonderful woman—“

“Where?” The word is harsh, and flat, and it is less a question than a command.

“Marcus, Shalice herself is watching over the body until we can safely inter her. Alexis’ body is safe. I promise you—“

“No. Not Alexis.” Statesman almost—almost—sobs when he says the name of his daughter. “Where is the man who killed my daughter? Where is Malaise?”

The sky has grown ever darker as he spoke to Statesman. Thunder is booming with such force that Manticore can feel it as pressure behind his eyes. “Marcus, believe me, I want him dead as much as you. The only reason he’s still alive is because we both know that isn’t what Alexis would have wanted—“

“Brickstown, of course. That’s the only place they’d dare keep him.”

“Marcus—“

Statesman says nothing more. He bends his knees, and launches himself into the sky.

Manticore is knocked off his feet by the force of Statesman’s sudden departure. The deck of the ship cracks, and the ship itself is nearly pushed underneath the frigid waters of the bay.

“Damn it! Shalice!”

I can’t reach him, Justin. His anger, his grief—it’s shutting me out.

“Send Infernal, Luminary, and Citadel to the Zig. Statesman can’t be allowed to reach Malaise.”

I’m surprised that you care so much about keeping him alive.

“I don’t give a damn about Malaise, Shalice. I should have killed him myself.”

Then why--? He can sense that Shalice is not pleased by his response, but he can’t find it in himself to care. They had given Malaise a second chance, and he had repaid them by slaughtering the mother of the woman who had insisted he deserved a chance to prove himself.

“Statesman is one of the most powerful beings alive—perhaps the most powerful Incarnate on the planet. We’ve seen on other Earths what happens when Marcus Cole stops holding back. And the Well of Furies—it responds to will—if Marcus totally cuts loose then the Well of Furies may give him more power than Tyrant himself.”

Shouldn’t we call in the Reserves then?

“No. That much power thrown against him may just make things worse. We’re his friends—if anyone has a chance of holding him back, it’s us. And if we fail—if we fail, there needs to be someone left to pick up the pieces.”

K’Varr, Citadel, and Lumi are on their way to Brickstown. I’ll join them as soon as I can—

“Shalice, no. It’s too dangerous—“

I’ve known Marcus for decades, Justin. And Alexis—Alexis was almost like a daughter to me. I owe this to her.

“Be careful. I love you.”

And I love you. How soon will you be there?

“As soon as I can. There’s someone I have to talk to …”

Aww.

I was even on my heroic Necromancer and I couldn't bring her back from the dead... I don't think Statesman would mind having Zombie!Alexis as a daughter, do you?! 8-(

Okay.

I'm predicting Shane is a goner within the next couple of episodes.

Okay. This is what I'm wondering about 'cause I'm still not sure.

Did Shane do what he did because he was afraid to die or was he doing it to make sure the equipment got back to save Carl?

My best guess is she's earning badges by participating in as many morality missions as possible.

I have started my story!


Bloody Flower: Silent Blade's Story

I am a killer.

I make no apologies for this. I offer no explanation. I am simply stating a fact.

I am a killer, and they call me Silent Blade.

You may have heard of me.

I will not deny that I have killed good men and women. Police officers. Longbow. Heroes. They crossed my path—or I was hired to kill them—and then they died.

I have killed villains, too. Men and women who had something I wanted—or who wanted something I had. Sometimes I have been hired to kill them by their victims or the family of their victims.

I am an equal opportunity killer.

However, I am also a woman.

I say this so you will understand why I was hunting down the so-called “hero” Argent Argos.

I had been hired by someone—I will not say who as my discretion is bought with my blade when I am hired to perform a task—to break into Argent Argos’ base to steal an item he had “acquired” from my client. I had not been paid to kill him—simply to take back what he himself had taken. So I made certain Argos was gone before I made my move.

Had I known what I would find, he never would have left his base alive.

One of the women—barely more than a child—had told me what Argos had done to her—done to all of them. She had begged me to stop him, to make sure that he would never hurt anyone else ever again. She had used her last breath to ask me to do this thing …

And looking upon her broken body, it had not been difficult at all for me to agree.

I made an anonymous call to the authorities to make sure that he would not be able to return to his base or receive assistance from any other hero, and then I began the hunt.

It did not take long to find him.

Fittingly enough, I found him in a graveyard.

People are not buried in Paragon City any more. With the Skulls, Banished Pantheon, and Vahzilok about, it is rare that anyone who is buried here will remain so for long. It is not a safe place to be, and it was obvious that my prey was truly desperate.

No matter.

A graveyard full of monsters would not stay my hand this night.

Lesser assassins may use magic or technology to disguise their presence before they dispatch their target. I do not.

I am just that good.

Argos only saw me coming because I let him.

Argent Argos was a blaster. The amulet he wore about his throat gave him the power to fire bolts of white force capable of breaking stone as easily as bones. In theory, this meant that anything he saw coming would be dead as soon as he saw it.

In theory.

I let him see me because I wanted him to see his death coming.

“I’ll kill you!” he raved at me as he shattered a tombstone that I had just ducked behind.

“Like you killed all those girls, Argos?” I leaped out of the shadows, diving between his legs, driving a dagger into the back of one of his knees.

Argos screamed a profanity and fired wildly.

Of course I wasn’t there.

“They had it coming! You all do! Stuck up witches! Always turning me down—you can’t do that now! Not now! I’m a hero! A hero!”

Again the leap, this time a swing of my blade hamstrung his other leg.

“No, you’re just a very little man.”

If this had been business—if it had not been personal—then what happened next would not have happened. I would have killed him as soon as I found him. He never would have seen me coming.

But the slaughtered women in his base—my own rage—demanded more than a quiet kill, a Silent Blade, to end his miserable life.

I wanted him to suffer.

And because of that he nearly killed me.

To be fair, it was more bad luck on my part than skill on his that allowed an energy-clad fist to strike me in the side. If he had been just a man, it would have done no more than earned me a slight bruise, but Argos was a blaster.

The force of the blow smashed me into a tombstone. I heard something crack—it might have been the stone; it might have been my ribs. At the moment, I wasn’t sure. Stunned, my sword fell from my limp fingers.

“Got you, witch!” With a grunt, Argos yanked my dagger from his leg, pulling himself towards me with one hand while the other held my blade. “I’ll skin you alive, witch! I’ll make you beg for your life before I’m done with you …!”

“Not going to happen!” I struggled to move, but found that I couldn’t. The sheer force of his blow had stunned me. I could speak, I could see him coming, but I could barely move—not enough to move, not enough to defend myself …

Argos raised the dagger—and then grunted in pain as someone kicked the blade from his hand.

And then I forced myself to move.

My weakened hand found just enough strength to grab my sword once more. I slashed—weakly—clumsily--

But it was enough.

Argos made a gurgling sound and twitched his way into oblivion.

But the effort took far more out of me than I could spare. The night was growing darker, colder, and I could feel myself fading with it …

I fought hard not to pass out, knowing that if I did the odds were very good that I would either wake up in a jail cell—or not at all …

But there are some fights even I cannot win …

The last thing I saw was a pale hand reaching for me …

Am I the only one who doesn't like Rick?

Still working on my story idea.

Did anyone else know that the Hmong are traditionally considered Chinese or Vietnamese, but Silent Blade and her father's names are Japanese?

She's an Assassin Bipolar.

I'm trying to work on a story that will involve her backstory, and after doing the Villain Morality Mission I'm more confused than ever.

Originally, I thought she was a Villain Becoming a Rogue Becoming a Hero ... Possibly becoming a Vigilante ....

But I'm not really sure...

I mean, near as I can pierce it out ...

The same time she's working with Longbow and convincing her father to go straight, she's also leading her own band of assassins who try to prevent her sister from defecting. While she's threatening to kill you for going from hero to villain, she's also ready to smack you down for trying to rescue a heroic Arachnos Soldier.

And at one point in the 20s she's also considered a well enough known hero that you consider it unlikely she'd go evil ...