LivingHellfire

Try looking for something bizarre.

My archer is called The Full Draw. He used to be a professional poker player and earned the nickname Full Draw during a tournament when all he needed for a full house was the Ace of Spades but threw the hand down and asked for a full draw of cards and won the hand with a royal flush. In his spare time he shot the bow because it helped him focus. He could imagine that the target was the only thing that existed in the world and in the moment where he drew back the bow and fired it everything else ceased to exist. When a member of the family strong-armed him into a game of cards using his neice as a hostage he had no choice but to play, but lost the game when the mob boss cheated. He donned the costume and took the name The Full Draw to a whole new level.

The Living Hellfire 50 Fire/Fire Blaster - "BURN!!"

Cimmerian Fist 50 MA/REG Scrapper - "CROM!"

Energy Archon 37 INV/EM Tanker - "You're MINE!"

The Full Draw 18 Arch/Dev Blaster- "Full House, b*tch! YOU LOSE!"

Ubiquitous 42 ill/ff controller - "I AM THE ONLY [censored] ESKIMO!!"

Flamestripe 38 fire/rad Controller - "INSERT MENACING PHRASE HERE!!"

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I'll pop in here so you guys have a new target.

The original Task Force Datamine took 3 months to finish. That was to go over 2 months worth of data.

We now have 18 months worth of data. We looked for a more effecient solution, but our estimates still come out at 2 years to datamine and get you your badges.

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hire more people then what are we paying you for!

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I'm pretty sure it's an automated query. They fire it up and it runs, day and night unmonitored, like any other query or search function.

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I'll pop in here so you guys have a new target.

The original Task Force Datamine took 3 months to finish. That was to go over 2 months worth of data.

We now have 18 months worth of data. We looked for a more effecient solution, but our estimates still come out at 2 years to datamine and get you your badges.

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... Alright, I can see that.

However, from a customer service point of view, don't you think this is the kind of thing that could have been foreseen a long time ago? I find it difficult to believe that this wasn't known by the developement and support teams some time ago, as in, months ago.

Why wasn't something said a long time ago about this? It would have solved a lot of hassle and saved a whole bunch anger.

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You know, as hurt as I have been over the performance and command level descisions as of late, this really takes the cake.

Most badges are nothing but time takers, and serve no purpose other than to make players wait. Taskforces take several hours for no other purpose than to make them longer so more people cannot complete them.

Monster Badges - Could have a designated spawn, where you complete a set of tasks for a zone, and your team gets the monster spawn - Inside of a door mission. Couldn't do that though, that's too easy. That lets too many people get badges.

Monsters spawning regularly to give people badges? Oh can't be that catering to the public. You can't give us what WE want now can you?

Character Badges - Your expectations exclude all but the most rabid fanboys. Let me give you a few examples.

Immortal - Take 1,000,000,000 Damage You are truly Immortal. You have survived one billion points of damage.

Jailed Guess: 100 hours of being held Enemies no longer regard you as a threat.

Now is there any reason for both of those to be as high as they are? No. The only reason is to get people to play a few months longer to get 2 badges with no practical purpose.

You want us to work hard for badges? You want to make us work for badges? Fine, give the badges rewards attached to them. How about every 10 Exploration badges you get you recieve +100 health? How about every 3 Mission Badges you get you get +100 endurance? How about for each Taskforce given by a Hero; Numina, Positron, Synapse, Sister Psyche, etc, you are give +1 power or 2 enhancement slots. No?

How about you make Accolades worth the effort? How about the Crey Pistol actually be effective in combat with equal enemies, worth using. Couldn't do that apparently.

You don't want people to be unhappy with badges? Then quit taking the fun out of them. Stop taking the fun out of everything. I didn't start playing to get the Carrot and the Stick treatment. Stop telling people what they should consider fun and start asking them what they want as fun.

Just so you know, I hate Tyrants...we have enough of them in our world telling us what we should do. Did we start this game for us to have fun? I guess not. We have no one in our corner, we have no voice, we make no desicisions and I'm getting really really fed up with it.

At this rate you might as well take away all the badges, make the level cap level 35, remove stamina as a power, and set the defense cap for everyone at 2%. As far as I'm concerned the developers can take their idea of fun and....

[Censored for the decency of minors, senior citizens, pregnant women, small people, minor household kitchen gadgets, and anyone else with a pulse. Please ignore this flaming volley of profanities and continue with your normally scheduled program]

....grrr...I get so sick of this. I didn't pay for this abuse. If I want to pay for abuse I'll join something like Matrix Online, or call somewhere I can pay $4.95 per minute.

No offense to any City of Heroes fans, only to the Tyrants establishing policy in the name of 'Fun'.

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WELL SAID! /signed

That completly lays out how stupid this stuff is getting.

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Oh, you didn't know? "The Vision">Fun

Enjoy.

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Clarification - Monsters in TF's do not count towards the badges for those monsters (Adamastor or Jurrassic for ex). It has been this way for some time.

Also - after much pushing and shoving - we were told that there will NOT be data mining for TF badges. So if you did a TF before I5 - when I5 goes live you will not get a badge for it auto-magically.

I know - it stinks - I'm sorry about that.



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Thanks for your effort, Cuppajo. I know you fought for us, and we appreciate the effort.

I'm kinda worried about Statesman. I've been thinkin about it and I'm concerned that he's not doing alright and that something may be wrong, could you pass a message on for me?

Let him know that I've been noticing that he seems to be running out of ways to piss his client base off. The badges thing is a really, really good one, for sure, but I'm worried about him. I'm worried that he may not be able to find much else to [censored] us with. There certainly doesn't seem like much, that's for sure. Hey, let him know though, that I'm always available to help him out with telling him the remaining things about the game that I find fun and exciting so that he can go ahead and smash the [censored] out of those too. That way, hopefully, we can keep him from running out of ideas on ways to piss off his paying clientele.

That is the goal, right? By all appearances that is what he's trying to do, isn't it?

CHAPTER 4

I remember one time my mother got her hair cut really short like. She had always had long red hair that reached to her waist for as long as I can remember and the day she got it cut was one of the last times that I ever went out with her in public before she started making sure that I stayed home and safe. I was about nine years old or so and wasn’t transmitting enough heat to really harm anything except the odd scrap of paper, so I could still hold my mothers hand. That’s what I did, too, she held my hand as we walked through town. Everyone knew Mum, but then everyone knew everyone in that little town, it was so small. She made her way to the hairdresser and got her hair cut to her shoulder while I waited and watched. It was a magical transformation, it changed her appearance completely, so much so that I had to remind myself what she used to look like.

When we left the parlor all the people that had nodded and spoken to her on the way in just stared. She was so different in appearance now that no one recognized her at all. She strode through town, with me following close behind, a complete stranger. It was only after she nodded and spoke did the other people recognize her. That’s how I felt now.
I walked from my crummy basement apartment in King’s Row to the tram wearing my new suit. My contacts were in and my hair was in the ponytail. I looked like everyone else. No one stared, no one made comments or called out to me. I was invisible. It was brilliant.

The tram was exactly as packed as it usually is, mostly with regular people with the odd cape interspersed, looking slightly out of place. Did I look like that when I rode the tram between zones? Not this time though. This time I sat with my legs crossed reading the newspaper, just like the man next to me and the lady across the aisle. The city zoomed by in a blur and it wasn’t long before we passed through the portal between zones. King’s Row disappeared behind from view and I watched as Steel Canyon evolved around us. This was neither as high nor as fast as I usually travel, but it was nice to be this relaxed while doing it.

The voice came over the intercom; “Next stop, Steel Canyon” I got up out of my seat, allowing a very worried looking superhero with a red and green costume to sit down. I found myself wondering where it was exactly that Christmas Man was going and what he was so concerned about but had no time to ask as the tram had stopped and the doors were opening. I don’t think he would have answered me anyway, I didn’t know him and for all I knew he didn’t know me. His security badge read ‘11’ which means he was still relatively new. Besides, I looked like an ordinary everyday civilian now and not anyone that he would have wanted to talk to about his mission. Instead I gave him a nod and stepped off onto the platform. I allowed the flow of the foot traffic to carry me through the station and onto the balcony. For, I think, the first time I actually walked down the ramp and onto the cobblestone patio in front of the station instead of running or simply leaping off the side of the station and launching myself into the air.

I was strolling! Strolling down the sidewalk all by myself, with no one staring, no one giving me strange looks. It was remarkably busy on the sidewalk, people everywhere moving about, going to the places where they work or spend the day.

From this perspective I found it hard to find all the things that I normally see and look for in this part of town; Freaks breaking into buildings, Outcasts mugging passers-by, Tsoo having conferences with the Family. They just weren’t all that apparent, it’s like from this angle they just didn’t exist. Perhaps my view is skewed in that it’s what I look for when I’m above, perhaps it isn’t that bad, perhaps it’s not a prevalent as I thought it was. I started to smile slowly to myself. Life in Paragon City wasn’t all that bad for these people, being that there obviously wasn’t as much ugliness as I thought there was. Captain Christmas screamed past the group I was walking with on his way to his next mission, I assumed, and left sparks in his wake. The wind following him tore through us and much hair was mussed. There was some muttering and mumbling about how superheroes think they can do whatever they want without regard for the general populace. Debate ensued. These people obviously knew each other, I was the stranger and probably trailing a little too close for decorum’s sake. A rather tall, very striking brunette in a very short skirt (not that I minded) and a blazer and tie walked between two men in business suits. I listened closely to what they had to say, perhaps getting nearer to them than I should have in my eagerness to hear the opinion of average citizens on the comings and goings of superheroes.

The woman smoothed shoulder length hair back as the gust settled down “Can’t they be more aware of where they are when they do that kind of thing? I’m surprised that more people haven’t been hurt by that kind of thing.”

“Well, I’m not sure that they’re really thinking of that, Joanna.” Said the man on the right. He had brown hair and was youngish with a slightly more recent style of suit to the other, older man on the left. “He obviously has someplace to be in a hurry, probably to fight off whatever it is that’s threatening us at this very moment, and we’ll never even hear about it.” We passed a store that had toys and children’s clothing in it. Mothers with their children were browsing. Across the street was a coffee shop filled with people in business suits having their first coffee break of the day, discussing the latest meeting or whatever it was that business people talk about.

“I understand that, Glen and I appreciate that effort and all the work those people do for us, but is it too much to ask that they don’t put the lives of the people they fight so hard to protect in danger by charging about at close to sonic speed?”

Glen’s head bobbed before he answered, his reflection mimicking his movements in the pane glass of the building we were passing “I think that saying that our lives are in danger is perhaps an exaggeration, my friend. He knew what he was doing, and the worst thing that could happen to us when someone like that blows by is that we get hit by an itinerant newspaper.” He looked at her, there wasn’t a reply forthcoming. He went on; “The way I see it is this; My brother was saved by a hero once. A gang of Hellions looking for fun and profit broke into his house at night. They had him. That was it and if it hadn’t been for some cape just happening by he’d be dead because those punks would have taken everything that they could find that wasn’t nailed down or on fire and then probably just killed Danny.” Glen looked pointedly at Joanna as they walked “She wasn’t running at super speed, like that fellow, but she was flying pretty quick right above the ground, that’s how he saw the broken window. She saved my brother’s life so as far as I’m concerned, if my hair gets a little mussed because she, or another like her is in a hurry to get to someplace to save someone else’s brother’s life then that’s fine with me.”

This apparently irritated Joanna “I’m not saying that I care necessarily about my hair more than someone else’s life!” She said angrily “It’s a nuisance, for sure, but what I’m saying is that how the hell is someone like that going to be able to stop if something happens to jump out in front of them? I mean, say someone like that is screaming down the sidewalk jumping over and avoiding all the pedestrians, as they do, and then all of a sudden someone steps out from an alley, or a car turns a corner, or a lady with a stroller even comes out of a building at just the right time? How the hell is someone like that, moving that fast, going to be able to avoid them?” I couldn’t see Glen’s face, but his head moved in such a way that I could imagine the eye-rolling and grimacing that was happening. “Steve?”

“You don’t know why you’re so unique, so special.” She tossed her empty soda cup in a nearby trash bin and came back to stand in the shade, leaning against the building with her arms folded across her stomach.

I really didn’t like being under the microscope “I really don’t appreciate being put under the microscope. What are you getting at? That I’m different? I know that, I’ve always been different, there’s no news there.”

Eliza moved slightly closer and turned to look me directly in the eye “Liv, you are different from the average person. You’re more than the average person. You have something that the regular Joe like myself, or like any of these people walking past us don’t have.” She motioned to the throngs of pedestrians making their way about us. I saw nurses and construction workers, journalists, homeless people, businessmen, all manner of people, just ordinary people going about their lives. They’re heading to work, they’re heading home for supper and they’re going to the store and to the movies. I don’t know that, though, they just appear from around the corner of the building, they exist for a short time in my sight line and then disappear around the other corner, but there they are.

“What makes me more than another person just because I can do things that they can’t? Besides, these people, any one of them, could do what I can do, they would just need to find a way to do it.”

“It’s not the same, Liv, that’s what I’m trying to tell you.” She turned away and fiddled in her purse for something “Look, I’ve said too much about something I don’t truly understand, but there’s someone that I want you to meet that can explain this properly.” She held out a card with steel edging so that I could hold it. Dr. Barbara Forsythe, Biogeneticist, Crey Industries. I slid the card into a pouch just inside my belt. “She’ll meet you tomorrow at the address on the card at about ten tomorrow.”

I nodded “Alright, I’ll be there. She’s expecting me then?”
“Yes, and Liv?” She pursed her lips while I waited for her to finish, as if trying to decide whether or not to tell me something. “What she has to say may disturb you, but I think it may actually be helpful on finding Airazor – DON’T!” She exclaimed, holding her hand up as I leaned forward suddenly, eyes wide. “Don’t ask me any more questions, the answers that I would have for you would be imperfect to say the least, just make sure that you meet with Barbie tomorrow. She’s a friend, you can trust what she says, but make sure that you be there.” She pursed the corners of her mouth and looked away “I’m worried about him too, Liv, just go and talk to Barbie and listen to what she has to say.” She turned away and left me standing there in the ever-growing shadow of the nameless office building. The foot traffic was ebbing now, soon it would be dark and most people would heading home for good which is probably a good idea. I had no doubt that as soon as I left this corner it would be populated by whatever gang happened upon it first, Family, Tsoo, Freakshow, whatever. Regardless, I couldn’t stand there all night so I stepped up into the sky where I felt more at home anyway.


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The tailor shop in Steel Canyon was busier than I thought it would be at that time of night. It was well after eight o’clock and yet there were bodies everywhere, most of them belonging to other capes and yearning for new duds. I found Serge behind the far counter, at the back of the store. It wasn’t that hard, it was just one big room with a U-shaped counter in the middle and mannequins down the sides of the room with various ideas for costumes and uniforms. Some were pretty good, and others were awful. One was a black dinner jacket over sky blue tights and red boots. Another I saw in there (this one actually being worn by some poor [censored] who obviously didn’t know the difference) was all pink with yellow zebra stripes and nothing else. No accounting for taste though, who was I to judge?

“Ah… Velcome. Ze Legendary Living ‘Ellfire, I presume?” I disliked him immediately. “You ‘ave come to ze right place, my frien’” He had a habit of rolling his ‘r’s that drove me batty “I vill do sings for you zat you ‘ave never imagine.” This lad was a superhero? Seemed to me that he would’ve done better as an interior decorator. Then I though about it and looked around the shop again, especially at Pink Zebra Man and realized that I really shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Aye, I’d like to talk to you about something a little more inconspicuous. Joe, from Peregrine Island sent me.” He tilted his way back and to the side in a conspiratorial way.

“I see… zo Joe ‘as sent you. Vell, I vill take very good care of you.” Greeeeaat. “Now, ees zere anysing zat I need to know about you?” I nodded and took off one of my gloves.

“Got any paper that you don’t need?” He reached under the counter and came up with some cardboard. My glove will help a little to slow the burning, but with my glove off the cardboard was smoking before I even touched it and burst into flames the second I made contact. Everyone around me jumped at the sound and the sudden heat, but better than that, Serge leaped a good foot and half in the air and started spinning in place while waving his hands about his face, elbows pinned to chest. I couldn’t help but smile at that. I saw Loominal standing off to the side near one of the displays. I knew him well from some of the hunting that I’d done in Terra Volta, the heavy industry section of Paragon City. He knew me and was smiling and nodding slightly while the cute sales rep he was talking to looked on in horror, expecting me to burn down her place of business. I contained the rather impressive blaze fairly easily and after a relatively long silence and no small amount of staring (especially from some of the greener clientele who were in looking for their first costume) business slowly grinded it’s way back to usual.

Serge was glaring at me. He’s so cute when he’s mad. “Do not EVER do zat again! Eet vas extremely dangereux!” He did his best Clint Eastwood for a moment. “Now, I understand ze point, ‘owever, and I sink I ‘ave ze answer, wait ‘ere a moment.” He disappeared into the back for a few moments and when he came out he was holding something that almost made choke. The finest black suit I had ever seen. It was a fine Italian cut, double-breasted jacket with matching black pants. He even had a pair of brilliantly shined black leather dress shoes. It was accompanied by a flame red shirt, the same color as my hair and a stylish black tie.

He smiled at me as he laid the items on the counter. “Now zen, try zis.” He waited expectantly “Go on, do not be frightened, you cannot ‘arm it.” I reached out with my bare hand again and touched the jacket. It felt cool to the touch. It didn’t smoke, it didn’t erupt into flames, it didn’t shrink or melt away into nothing. “It vill not burn, Monsieur ‘Ellfire. Ze finest cloth, enchanted by none ozer zan ze most powerful vizards at M.A.G.I. Try it on, my friend.” Suddenly I quite liked Serge very much.

It fit like a dream. It was the most comfortable thing I’d worn since I became an adult and found my powers totally out of control and destroying everything I’d ever tried to wear. I can’t say how many pieces of Teflon clothing I’d worn, or how much asbestos I’d worn (my inner temperature destroys every single virus and any bacteria that isn’t a part of me or a part of my natural system, so I never get sick and it’s safe for me to wear). This was the finest piece of clothing I’d ever seen, let alone worn. Then it occurred to me that I might have to pay for it. Serge was smiling, and then he wasn’t smiling.

“Vat ees wrong?”

“This is a very nice suit, but I can’t afford it, I don’t even know how much it is, but I know I can’t afford this. I could barely afford to own what I walked in with.”
Serge dismissed my concern with a wave of his hand “Details” He said. He looked over my shoulder at someone and nodded. I turned to look and instinctively grabbed at an object as it came right at my face. I snatched it easily and looked down to see what it was. Paper. A crumpled wad of paper. I held it in my hand for a few seconds, expecting it to burst into flames, but nothing happened. I held it another second or two but it didn’t even char, not a singe, not a single heat wrinkle. I looked up slowly to find Serge standing right in front of me smiling for all he was worth. I liked him more the more he smiled. It touched his eyes and his entire face lit up like a little boy at Christmas. He looked me in the eye and chuckled at my expression. I was dumbfounded, how was this possible?

“Ze suit ees not ze only sing zat is impervious to ‘arm. Eet also renders ze vearer incapable of passing ‘eat. You see, ze suit ees enchanted against ‘arm, but eet ees also enchanted so zat ze vearer is contained visin ze suit. Zat means zat ze ‘eat zat you transmit ees kept visin ze suit by a magical forcefield zat surrounds you, allowing you to touch anysing you like visout ‘arming eet.” I was unraveling the crumpled ball of paper as he spoke to me. I hadn’t touched paper in years, since I was a wee lad, no more than nine years old. I ran my finger along the edge of the unfolded page and gave myself a paper cut for the first time in my life. I looked up at Serge when he finished. “Zere ees one sing zough… Zose eyes… ‘Ere, try zees.” He handed me a small case, containing contact lenses that dampened the glow and changed the color to green. “And also, look at zees” Using a rubber band he gathered my hair up into a pony tail.

“Now, ze suit vill allow you to use your powers if you force zem, but be careful you don’t overdo eet or you vill force ze suit to burn. But if you are careful, you can use your powers, you simply ‘ave to force zem past ze suits protective wards.”

“How much?” I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care what the cost was, I had to have this, I had to have this suit. It was the one thing that was holding me back from any real kind of life beyond my main purpose.

“You owe me a faveur.” He said “To be called on at any time of my choosing. Do not worry,” He waved away any concern that may have shown on my face “Eet vill be in eizer in ze best interest of Paragon City or it vill be because I am in need of somesing zat only you can do. I vould never ask you to do somesing zat vould compromise your essics.”

“Done” He held out his hand and for a moment I held back instinctively. Then I remembered.

“I am honored to be ze first to shake your ‘and.” Serge said, smiling most generously.

“Thanks, me too” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. That was the best I could come up with. Serge just turned away without further ado and called for the next customer. That was it. And that’s how I was born again. I didn’t need to be The Living Hellfire every minute of every day anymore. I could just be Fergus Mcrae, average Joe.

CHAPTER 3

There isn’t much that can be said to someone who drops a child off at the hospital when he looks like I do. The blanket I had been using was on its last legs by the time I arrived at the hospital with my still sleeping passenger. The medical staff, doctors and nurses all, spared me not even a second glance except for the new ones. Most of the staff here had seen me in and out on a regular basis and were used to heroes passing through on their way out from the transport system that was in place to rescue fallen heroes. I can’t tell you how many times it’s saved me from certain death. I touched down just outside the main entrance and walked through the doorway, nodding to an old contact from Hero Corps on the way in. I felt the blanket finally burning through as Julia came awake. I planted her on her feet while she rubbed her eyes. She wasn’t injured, but she needed to be looked at to be sure, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that people always appreciate picking up lost family members at the hospital. I think it’s because they feel safe knowing that if they’re leaving from there that they’ll be alright.

I had called ahead to Eliza to let her know that I had the shaman was still tied in the sewer, that I had the girl and that I would be arriving at the hospital in Steel Canyon shortly. Of course there were two very anxious and worried parents waiting for me when I got there. They were just turning away from the reception counter as I walked in through the sliding doors. They were in their mid to late thirties, obviously professionals in their working life, well dressed and healthy. An attractive couple. I felt a flash of envy but it passed as I took a closer look at the lines on their faces. Twenty four hours of mental torture and emotional anguish quite literally fell away from them as they saw their daughter hale and hearty, if a little tired and dirty. They rushed over and enveloped her, crying. Julia said nothing or did nothing, although it was easy to tell that she was thankful to be back with her parents. She sat in the crook of her mothers arm while her father tried to shake my hand. I allowed it as there was no real harm in that small amount of contact. He put his hand on my arm as he did so and stood talking, thanking me for helping his family. This is my favorite part. This is when I know for sure that I’ve done something good. I get to see how what I’ve done has helped someone else. It always felt brilliant. Julia looked at me as if knowing how I felt and smiled. She was a beautiful little girl, I would have to keep my eye on her. The doctors came to take her away to give her a once over and to take off the manacles that were still on her wrists. I took a last look over my shoulder at the now happy family as I walked through the doorway out into the city and the last shred of blanket dissolved into ash and fell through my fingers.

* * *

“Julia Phelps is an empath, but not like you and I know of.” Eliza and I were talking on the corner of Blythe and Wilkinson, her in her nice blouse and slacks, sipping on a soda, me in my costume, arms folded and leaning against a light post. “She’s not just capable of feeling the emotions of others, she can actually store them in herself, in a part of her brain. We have no idea how many of these emotions she can store, if it’s just one or two or if it’s hundreds, although, having seen the test results, I suspect it’s more the latter than the former.” She took another sip and squinted through her sunglasses at the evening sky. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but the reflection bouncing off all the steel and glass as the light made it’s way across the island was intense.

“Why is that important?” I asked, “Does it have anything to do with why the Pantheon wanted her?”

Eliza nodded “Yes. Or, rather I think it does. You see, as she grows up there is a suspicion that she will be come to a point where she can actually transmit those feelings to someone who isn’t necessarily empathic. Basically what that means is that she could take how you feel at any given moment and make me feel the same.” I felt my eyebrows rise. “You understand the significance of that, right?”

I nodded slowly “I think so” I turned away slightly and stared at the bricks under my feet. “That represents all kinds of possibilities.”

“Exactly, both pleasant and not pleasant.” Eliza took off her glasses and stepped further into the shade offered by the building behind us. “Think of the possibilities for rehabilitation. If Julia could force criminals to feel how their victims feel, what would the chances be that they would repeat? Secondly, if she could teach other empaths to do what she can this may take us forward by leaps and bounds in that area.” I stood waiting. I knew Eliza well enough now to know that these little pauses weren’t actually breaks in the conversation, just her organizing her thoughts for the next point. “There’s something else.”

“I knew there would be.”

“We found one of the capes that disappeared a few weeks ago. One of the first to go. His name is Wally Murphy, have you heard of him?” I shook my head “He used to go by the name of Mindbender. He was a mutation psionicist who dabbled in empathy. Mind control.” I nodded, I know what psychokenisis is. “Well, now he’s just Wally Murphy, nothing else.”

“Retired?” Lots of tights retire after their first three or four security levels, once they discover just what this line of work is like, especially when they go through a harrowing experience like I suspect Mindbender did.

“In a manner of speaking.” Oh, great, she wanted to me to guess.

“Alright then, I’m guessing that he held about a 5th grade security level and was grabbed by the pantheon and couldn’t do anything about it. Spent a few weeks with them being tortured for information or something and then decided to call it quits after he was found.” Eliza shook her head, holding my gaze. She motioned me closer into the shade of the building where we wouldn’t be overheard by passers-by. We were already attracting attention, as was to be expected.

Eliza lowered her voice and leaned in closer “Wally Murphy, Mindbender, had just received his 6th level clearance. So you’re right on that, but that’s where it stops. Wally Murphy has no choice but to retire, his powers are gone.” I blinked about thirty times in an effort to understand.

“Pardon me?”

“You heard me, they’re gone. They’ve been stripped, torn right out of him on a genetic level.” I had no idea what to say “As you know, Liv, mutations, like yourself and like Wally aren’t like me and the average person, or even like other superheroes. Mutations are different, you’re special. Your abilities aren’t derived from an experiment gone bad or from magic or from gadgets. You were born with these gifts. They’re part of you as much as your hands and feet are.” She cocked her head and looked me in the eye, suddenly seeming much more curious than she should be. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” I was suddenly very uncomfortable.

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I have a 50 Fire/Rad controller you have nerfed this toon more then any other toon in the entire game Half of his damn powers dont work for CRAP now, and the ones that do still work are almost useless.

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Dude, they've nerfed regen almost every issue since release. I have a fire/rad myself, and while I'm not familiar with the end game yet as he's only 28, he kicks butt. I don't know what you're talking about, but by the time he reaches 40 or so he's going to be able to do things that my /regen scrapper used to be able to and now can't.

The Farseer Trilogy by Robin Hobb. Those are definately in the top five of my favorite books.

It is... you have to look for it.

The pump room was now clear, with the exception of the shaman. I floated silently in the room and stuck to the right wall. I could see the shaman’s back was turned towards me as he crouched facing the far wall just outside the alcove where I knew the little girl to be. Eliza had told me that her name was Julia and she was eight years old. She must have been frightened out of her bloody mind.
The wizened little man had stopped his ranting at the girl, and Julia had stopped crying but I could still hear her sniffling. The sound of such helplessness in the hands of such unspeakable horror filled me with a burning rage that I had to struggle to contain. I could feel it building within me, roaring for release. Even with this feeling though I couldn’t stop myself from having a bit of fun with my soon-to-be victim.

The feathers and grass skirt the little man was wearing were waving and shaking about as he crouched down. He was obviously doing something over there that involved stirring or mixing. I glided over quietly behind him and stuck my head around the corner to where Julia could see me. From her perspective it must have seemed like a disembodied head with long red hair and half a face missing just appeared from the side of the wall. Not a whimper though, just the tiniest gasp of surprise. The shaman didn’t even hear it, he was too busy chuckling and mumbling to himself, caught up in his own madness. His tawny skin was wrinkled and dry and occasionally I could make out a word or two of what he was saying but I could tell it came from a mouth that was missing more than a few teeth. I glanced at Julia, she was just staring at me, unsure as to whether I was an ally or just some new threat. Even though I knew she couldn’t see my mouth, I smiled at her knowing that my eyes would crinkle around the edges. I pressed my index finger to the cowl where my mouth was and threw in a wink for good measure. No reaction, none. At least she didn’t scream or howl. Sometimes the people that you’re saving can be your worst enemy in a situation like this.

I dropped down as quietly as I could about a foot and a half behind the shaman and clasped my hands behind my back. I looked around at the little girl and waggled my eyebrows at her. She sat silent, eyes big as dinner plates.

I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet and made exaggerated I’m-looking-over-your-shoulder head movements “Whatcha got there?” I asked, innocently. The shaman jerked and looked over his shoulder so violently that he fell over, revealing an entire little alchemy set. He had been mixing the oils used to summon those damned totems and preparing powders used in the summoning circles. “Oh, sorry, did I disturb you? I didn’t mean to. Tell me, who’s your wee friend?” I asked innocently enough, motioning with my head towards Julia.

“How… who… How did you get in here?!” He demanded, still sitting on his skinny, wrinkled bum on the sewer floor.

“Well, my friends call me Liv, but you can call me The Living Hellfire.” I folded my arms across my chest and regarded the little laboratory he had setup against the wall. “Y’know, I have a set like this, I keep it for my nephew when he comes to visit. He likes to finger-paint.” I cocked my head slightly and looked back Julia “Do you like to finger-paint, Julia?” She was obviously enjoying seeing the shaman so startled and more than a little frightened, given that he had spent the last day or so torturing her. She made jerking head movements to indicate that she did indeed like finger-painting.

“You will not disrupt this ceremony! We WILL raise the dread Lord of Pain! You cannot stop us!” He pushed himself to his feet and glared at me menacingly, his skirt and feathers all a-waggle. “There is no hope for you now! You should have killed me when I was caught unawares, but now you have foolishly thrown away the element of surprise! GUARDS!” He stared expectantly at the tunnel entrance. Nothing happened. I made a show of looking about, actually turning where I stood and putting my back to the little man.

“What are waiting for?” I asked “Oh… those. Aye, were they with you, then?” I turned back “Sorry, I didn’t know they were friends of yours. I regret to inform you that they’re dead, but it’s okay, they were dead when I got here. That didn’t stop them from walking about though. I had no choice, I’m really very sorry.” He was shaking now, furious. “What was I going to do? The kept using foul language and sarcasm, and anyone who knows me knows how much I hate sarcasm.” Something struck me. “Tell me, what is ‘Kazak’?” His brows furrowed for a moment and then his eyes opened wide in horror. With a scream he clapped his hands together and thunder filled the room with such violence that it threw me back against the wall. There was nothing in my head or in my ears but the rushing sound of blood. I clapped my hands to my ears in an effort to shut it out but I couldn’t shut out something that was already there. It seemed like forever until the pain went away and I could think again. The shaman was standing before me, wreathed in a swirling mass of cloud that spun around him like a storm. I pushed myself away from the wall and lifted off the ground. Fury roared within me and instead of restraining it I released it with everything I had. Fire blazed about me, wrapping itself around my hands and feet and coiling up around my torso. My hair lifted slightly as the air heated around me and rose to the ceiling. I could see tiny filaments of flame stretching and snapping from the corner of my eyes and everything turned a dark red. The rage was building.

“Julia! Get under that tank!” I yelled. She scurried under the big holding tank she was chained to and huddled underneath it trying to make herself as small as possible. The shaman was raising his knife just as the rage built to pinnacle and loosed itself within me. I barely had time to pull the cowl down from my face before my breath unleashed itself upon the tiny man. Searing flame engulfed him and he was forced back, sliding on his feet as he sought to withstand the blast. I climbed higher into the air just as he came back at me and his knife passed just under my feet where my abdomen had been just a moment before. Still raging, I brought my hand up and away and formed a massive blaze in the palm of my hand. It screamed forward as I forced my hand toward the shaman and slammed into him hard enough to knock him from his feet. He skittered across the floor on his behind, tearing up whatever leaves and grass was left of his skirt that hadn’t already been burnt away. A massive fireball came next, but the wind swirling around him sent it wide and it slammed harmlessly against the far wall. The shaman rose to his feet and screamed with everything he had, sending a bolt of lightning across the room at me. It slammed into my chest throwing me to against the tank under which Julia was huddling. I slid down and landed on the floor on my backside, dazed. Time slowed and I watched as the little tawny man grinned evilly and closed the distance between us, knife gleaming. I couldn’t clear my head, everything hurt. It felt like I had just woken up from a deep sleep and couldn’t focus. Then I felt a pressure on my hand. Tiny fingers wrapped themselves about mine and my gaze followed a small arm under the tank. Julia was close to me, looking at me with those blue eyes, pleading silently for me to rise. She was my inspiration at that moment. New strength filled me and I gathered my feet under me and turned to face the oncoming charge. The shaman was upon me but there was no hope left for him. The maelstrom that he had summoned to throw off my aim was gone now and I met his charge with one of my own. I streaked past his knife and rammed my shoulder into his stomach, sending us both to the ground. I scrambled up to my knees and drove three blasts of fire right into the middle of his chest. With each impact more air was driven from his lungs and after the third blast his chest was a mass of burnt flesh and blood. His eyes rolled up into his head as consciousness fled. I slumped forward, exhausted.

I don’t know how long I stayed that way but when I came back to my thoughts I realized that someone was calling my name. “Mr. Hellfire? Are you okay?” I looked over my shoulder at her. There was real concern in her eyes, not for herself, but she seemed really concerned for how I was feeling. It was almost like she could feel what I was feeling right at that moment.

“Aye, lass, I’m fine.” I turned back to look at what was left of my prey. He was still alive, he was hurt badly, but he would live. I needed him to live so that I could question him. “Seems you won’t be helping with their little ceremony after all. I hope you’re not too upset about that.” She smiled shyly. “Here, let me get those off you.” I bent down and wrapped my hand about the chain and released what little I had left down into the cold steel. It went from a solid black to a liquid red as it melted in my hand. I dunked the end of it in the water to cool it so that it wouldn’t hurt Julia as she walked with it. “Sorry lass, that’s all I can do for you until we get somewhere that has tools to take the manacle off.” I picked her up off the ground and put her on her feet. Her little shoes made a small splash that added to the muck on her bare legs. Under all the grime were red shorts and a blue t-shirt. Her hair was in pig-tails although they were unbelievably filthy. Her mother was going to have a hell of a time getting the dirt out. “I can’t carry you, sweetheart, you’ll have to walk. If you get too close to me for too long I’ll end up hurting you.”

“That’s okay.” She said as she gathered up the chain “I would rather walk anyway, he made me sit since yesterday.” She was lying, she could barely stand upright under her own power. She may have been sitting this whole time, but what she wasn’t doing was eating or sleeping for the past 36 hours. Julia’s gaze fell on the shaman “Is he dead?” She asked quietly.

“No, lass, he’ll live” She nodded and looked back up at me.

“Good. He’s very sad inside. He doesn’t know it, but he’s very, very sad.” I stared at her, unbelieving, totally amazed that she could have such insight into someone who had been so cruel to her.

I couldn’t carry the shaman either or it would kill him, but I managed to find some bits of wire and thread lying about and used them to secure him to one of the sturdier pipes. It wouldn’t hold him for long, but it would be long enough for the authorities to get there. I also managed to find a fairly large blanket that the shaman had used to grab Julia in the first place. It was thick and heavy, perfect for muffling the voice of a young girl grabbed off the street.

I gathered my cargo up in the blanket and cradled her in my arms and stepped up into the stale air. “Hold on tight now, but don’t touch anywhere where there isn’t blanket, alright?” She nodded and snuggled down into the blanket further. I sailed out of the room and through the tunnels dodging all the pipes until we got to the entrance. “Close your eyes, now, we’re going out into the light. Your eyes will hurt for a moment, but they’ll adjust.” I pushed the door open and was greeted by a waft of fresh springtime air. The sun had lowered during my time in the depths of Paragon City, but there was still light at the end of the tunnel. I lifted my head to the sky and willed it closer to me. The tops of the buildings fell away and we were free. I looked down at Julia to whisper something about the clouds looking like islands, but she was already asleep.

Around one corner lurked another of the smaller corpses. Only one, that wouldn’t be difficult, oh, wait, there it was. One of the giants. These things stood about 8 feet tall. They were absolutely immense and tended to carry ancient musket as range weapons. If that wasn’t bad enough they were capable of knocking a grown man off his feet and sending him a good three metres. I glided to the top of the tunnel, just out of reach of either of them. I felt my gorge rise as they came together around the corner just under me. I held it for a moment, but not long. The big one looked up just as I pulled the cowl down from my mouth and the fire within me roared. It screamed out from my mouth and tore at them, stretching the skin on their frames and flaying it from their bones. What wasn’t immediately burned or ripped away was left hanging limply in flaming tatters. Mum always did say I had good lungs.

They weren’t done though, they both pulled out rifles and fired. It was all I could do to move just out of the way for one of them, but the other caught me square in the chest, or would have if it hadn’t melted on the way in. I still took a nasty bruise from it, I would feel that for a good while.

I pushed away from the wall and slid over top of them, looking down at their open mouths and blank stares. I put my hand behind my back and released control slightly, channeling the power down into my hand to form another fireball. Around my back and up over my head my arm wheeled, bringing the ball of fire down upon them with enough force to knock the smaller one back and down, reducing it to cinder. He was finished, but the bigger one shrugged it off as if it hadn’t even been there, he was even grinning. He reached up with one hand and managed to grab a hold of my foot and pulled me down to the ground. I landed with a thump on my back hard enough to force the air out from my lungs.

“Kiiiilll….” Was the only intelligible word the monster uttered as it raised both it’s arms over it’s head to deliver a smashing blow. No time. I pushed over my head at the wall just behind me and forced myself through between its legs. The powerful blow missed me by inches, but missed me it had. I rolled over onto my stomach and forced myself up and away from it and further down the tunnel. It came shambling after me, grinning and drooling. There wasn’t much left of it as it came, more stumbling and crawling along the wall than shambling. I lifted my hands over my head and again released slightly. Tiny flares of fire burst from my fingertips, slamming into the creature over and over. Flesh and bone exploded from the shattered and flaming corpse as it sank slowly to its knees and then forward onto its face.

I checked both of them over quickly to make sure that I wasn’t missing anything, like the rest of the costume that I picked off the other corpse. Nothing. Further down the tunnel, however, I could hear there were things happening. A tiny voice was making noises that sounded like sobs.

The tunnel continued to twist for another fifty meters or so, the pipes overhead becoming more and more rusted as I got further away from the entrance to the sewer and deeper into the more unused parts of the network. As I got closer I could hear ranting. The bad guys always ranted. I’ll never understand why that is, it’s like they have this compulsion to tell their victims exactly what they’re going to do to them. I can’t count the number of times that I’ve been able to get in and stop them simply because they wasted so much time talking about what they were going to do instead of just getting on with it.

The control room was big, really big. It was one of those rooms that had four separate alcoves on each side each separated by a half wall that extended about a quarter of the way into the room. The middle of the room was a giant puddle of sewage that was bridged twice by walkways. Those steel walkways circled the room at about fifteen feet up and allowed access to the top of the big cylindrical pumps that occupied each alcove. The place was dark as no one had been there in years and what there were very few of the fluorescent lights still working, and most of them were flickering and on their last legs. The ranting I could hear was coming from the furthest alcove on the right. The whimpering of a little girl broke my heart and it took everything I had to maintain a tight grip on the fires within me.

Two husks were loitering near the entranceway to the room. I would have to remove them before I could deal with the shaman, but I had to do it so that he couldn’t hear me dispatching his minions. I scuffed my boot against the ground to make just enough noise to get their attention. They looked up and around and started to come towards the corner of the room where it emptied into the hallway. I floated a goodly distance back, just always providing enough of a view of me so that they knew I was there, but not enough for them to be able to take a shot at me with those ancient rifles they were carrying. Back and just around the corner I tucked myself into a gap between the ceiling and an intersection of piping. Just a little further was all I needed.

They came together under the piping where I was hiding and stood together, swaying. I could hear their bones creaking and the old, dried out muscle and sinew rubbing against them. I slipped out from behind the pipes and glided around behind them and pulled my cowl down from my mouth… and missed entirely. I had hit my head on a pipe behind me and the cone of fire went to the side, nearly melting it completely. I was thankful that it was empty and not spraying the husks and I with water. My thanks was short-lived as the walking dead lifted their weapons, those ancient civil war rifles, with one hand. I stopped hovering just in time to drop to the ground away from where they were targeting. I could hear the balls whiz over my head and ricochet against the wall behind me and harmlessly off into the distance. I wasn’t really concerned about the shaman hearing them, those ancient guns misfire constantly, they were forever going off for no reason.

This section of tunnel wasn’t big enough for them to stand side by side as it was a junction point for the piping and it pretty much filled much of the space, so I had the opportunity to take them one at a time. On my feet on the ground I was close enough to the first of the husks that I could do some major damage. I brought my hand back and forced it forward sending a blaze of white-hot fire slamming into the chest of the first of the husks and he disappeared into a cloak of flames. He was still moving but I must have burnt through the muscle in his shoulder as his left arm now hung limp. That didn’t stop him from swinging the right at me though. He caught me across the chest and sent me back hard against the piping. I felt my vision darkening, I must have hit my head. The rim of my vision lightened from black and brightened even further as the rage increased inside me. It was too soon for another major blast, but I had plenty of juice left. I sent a quick blast into it and that was enough. I had to move out of the way as it collapsed toward me.

The second moved in behind the first as its mate fell to the ground. I leaped up above it, just out of reach and drove three quick blasts down onto its head and shoulders, forcing it to its knees. It kept reaching up and saying a word over and over, it sounded like “Kazak”. I wondered briefly at the meaning of this as I brought my hands up over my head and drove eight or nine flares down into its open mouth. That’s a new one, I thought.

There's more coming, I promise!

CHAPTER 2

Do you ever notice that certain smells remind you of certain things? A doctor told me once that smell is the greatest trigger for memory, followed closely by sound. The smell of burnt flesh always reminds me of home, even when the flesh belongs to something long dead. That’s the thing, that’s the thing that reminds me that everything and everyone I burn is human or at least was human at one point. I never knew what the smell of burning flesh was until I was in my teens. I didn’t know that when I smelled it around my brothers that it was their flesh that was burning and that I was the one doing it. I thought that was just the way they smelled. The only one that it didn’t seem to bother too much was Connor, and he was too young to really spend any time with me anyway.

Vazhilok and Banished Pantheon bodies smell like you and me when they burn. They may be dead, they may be half decomposed and that adds a flavour that you or I wouldn’t necessarily have, but the core smell is the same. The only real difference is that they burn differently, hotter. They are both more dry in some areas, and more oily in others. It’s part of the re-awakening ritual to rub the moving parts of a body with anointed oils, they happen to be very flammable. In any case, the realization that the smell of burning undead reminded me of home was both disturbing and amusing.

I had received a couple phone messages from Greg Turner by now. It was a few days after I left Portal Corp and I hadn’t been back since. The messages were that they could still use my help and that all the damage that had been caused had been cleared up. There were no hard feelings on their part and that everything was hunky-dory. At least I hadn’t made any enemies. Greg really was a good lad, he just had a poor approach to some things. I guess that’s why he was an engineer and not a social worker. Greg was promising to look into some sort of compensation for me, but that wasn’t the issue. I was still really quite pissed and I was now getting desperate to find Airazor. He had been gone for a month now and the reason I had spent those weeks with Portal Corp instead of being out searching for him was because I was hoping to use the technology to find him. Now that was never going to happen, so while I knew that the project was of great importance to the city, even to all mankind, there was no way that I could spare the time now with so much of it wasted already. The project would still be there when I found Airazor, but Airazor might not be if I finished the project first.

For now I found myself the sewers, again. I just can’t seem to leave this place alone. Over the last three or four days I had used every contact I had to try to find a lead on where Airazor may have gone. This was the third round for me trying this, but I had them all go through it again. It was Eliza Thorpe that clued me into something interesting. Apparently Airazor wasn’t the only hero that had gone missing. Dozens of them had disappeared all over the city. They would be there one minute, the next they were just gone. There were all kinds of reports of people talking to them one minute, on the phone or even in person and the next minute they were gone. Just…. Gone. Apparently it took a while for people to start talking about it, we are, after all, capes. We do that kind of thing, just up, up and away. The only really common thing that every story had was that it was Banished Pantheon territory, either in Dark Astoria or Talos Island or someplace like that. Well, I had my suspicions now.

The sewers in Steel Canyon were very similar to the sewers in every other part of the city. They were about 12ft in diameter and had a small river of filth running along the bottom. These tunnels connected together the control rooms that managed the flow in the sewer and the equipment rooms that housed all the machinery that actually did the flow control. These room are really big in some cases, over 120 square ft in some cases, and in others more, with elaborate walkway systems so that the technicians can reach the controls and machines that are packed in these rooms to the ceiling. It was in one of these rooms that I found myself. Four burning and broken bodies once belonging to American Civil War soldier, more recently belonging to the Banished Pantheon and enslaved as rotting husks, were grouped about me. The flies were horrendous. They were everywhere; all over the bodies, all over me, all over the sewage. They covered every square inch. At this point I would normally just move on deeper in the sewer in search of whatever it was at the end of the maze, but this time something caught my eye.

I relaxed my control just a touch, just for a second and was rewarded with a thousand little puffs of smoke and every fly within ten feet of me burst into flame. Bending down, I could see on one of the arms of the husks was a piece of red material. Perhaps I should say in one of the arms as it was jammed into a cavity where skin was missing and had lodged itself between the bone and the tendon. I burnt away enough to get the material out. It was a little patch, rough around the edges, so it was obviously torn off, about the size of my palm. It was a different colour from my uniform, so I knew that it wasn’t anyone who wore the same colour I did, but it was red all the same, and the material was odd. Odd and smoking. I doused it quickly in some standing water that was nearby and tucked it behind the back of my neck, the only place I knew it wouldn’t get charred. There wasn’t much left in this part of the sewer, it was time to move on, I still had to find that little girl.

She had been grabbed by the Pantheon, presumably to be used as a sacrifice in an effort to bring one of their totems in. They had a great lust for anyone with even so much as a drop of mutated power, the kind that comes from within and that people are born with or have managed to mutate over time. That power, when in someone who is used as a sacrifice, can increase the power of the thing being summoned. I had to save that girl, not only for herself, but because her power was such that anything brought over using it would be almost unstoppable.

I was in one of those control rooms, the ones with machines and archaic computers stacked to the ceiling. They were old and rusted and most of them didn’t work, but they were left sitting there because it would cost more to remove them than to just let them rot. Besides, every now and again a cowl comes running through blasting or smashing everything in sight and most of the stuff ends up wrecked anyway. I regarded the evidence of my own existence in this place. Not bad, only two or three of the closest flow control computers looked wrecked, and I don’t think they were the ones in use anyway.

The only way out, other than the way I came in was directly South. No choice I guess. I walked up one of the ramps to the square walkway in the middle of the room so that I could have a look at it as I passed. Nothing unusual, probably just a posted guard. That meant someone was thinking, which meant a shaman.

I stepped off the lip of the southern edge of the walkway into the air and floated down the corridor. As I followed the winding and twisting tunnel work it wasn’t long before I could hear shuffling. A lot of people think that zombies moan as they meander about, but they don’t, they just sort of shuffle about looking for things to eat. They’ll eat anything, even each other if the shaman lets them.

The grand hall was still empty when I got back. Janet didn’t even look up as I plopped the tea down on the huge desk, she just mumbled thanks and reached up for it without even casting her eye towards it.

“Hellfire!” I jumped “Get in here!” Greg was standing in the entrance to the hallway that lead to his office, waiting. He made it seem that he had been standing there all day waiting for me. I strolled over towards him and he immediately turned and hurried down the hall.

“Yah, Greg” I said as I walked into his office “What’s the latest?”

“Shut the damn door!” Alright “Sit your [censored] down!”

“What, no tea and crumpets?”

“And shut your damn mouth!” He’s so cuddly when he’s mad. “Now, I told you when you started here that we would use the gadgets to try to help you find your friend, but dammit, there’s just no way that’s gonna happen now, got it? So don’t ask! Cliff is barely funding us enough to complete our own projects and if I have to start using company time and man hours to help you with your little Easter egg hunt then we’re gonna be in the red like you wouldn’t believe.” He was sitting behind that massive oak desk and leaning forward on his arms. His eyes were ablaze. I knew it wasn’t me he was mad at, and I knew that the only way he could handle going back on a commitment was to be aggressive about it, but I didn’t care. Now I was angry.

“Well, that’s just bloody brilliant, Greg.” I said calmly. I could see in the mirror he had behind his desk that my eyes were starting to get darker. “So, tell me, what exactly is it that I’ve been doing this for? Why have I been here? I don’t see any paychecks with my name on them, I don’t see any benefits forms, any re-imbursements for the uniforms that I’ve had destroyed.” I could hear myself getting louder. A tiny voice in my head warned me but I wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t feel the chair underneath me anymore. “So tell me, Gregory, dear, what exactly is it that you want from me now? Is this how you choose to tell me? By dragging me in here and screaming at me?!” Greg was sweating now, and leaning back in the chair. I hadn’t been this mad in a very long time.

“Look, Hellfire, there’s no way around this, we just…”

“Just don’t what?! Don’t care?! Don’t want to bother?! My friend, the only man who really truly accepted me is out there somewhere, missing, and you don’t have enough DOLLARS!? The only reason I’m HERE is because you said you would HELP ME!!” I realized I was looking down on the other man. Not figuratively, but literally. I was a good four feet off the ground and hovering. Ribbons of fire were working their way up my limbs and playing about my head. The temperature of the air around me had raised to the point where I could see the corners of the pages on Greg’s desk start to curl. I was out of control.

The glass on the door to Greg’s office smashed outwards into the hall as the superheated air sought escape. Somewhere an alarm went off. I dropped to the floor and turned away from Greg. I went for the door to open it but the knob folded and came off in my hand and I had to kick the door open. I had to get out of there or I was going to hurt someone. I strode down the hallway, raising the temperature of the air around me so violently and so suddenly that I could see it fleeing from me as it expanded. The art on the walls lifted and the carpeting was scorched and burnt under my feet, even through the thick Kevlar soles of my boots. A tapestry in the hallway lifted and came loose and preceded me out in to the great hall at such an alarming speed that it wrapped itself around Janet’s grotesquely huge marble desk. There was quick recognition from Janet, followed by fear. She ducked under the monstrosity as two armed guards came charging into the foyer with their hands on their guns. I stopped long enough to look at them, the air around me still screaming, sending the papers on Janet’s desk flying. They hunched a little, waiting for the fight.

“And just exactly what do you plan to do with those?” I asked quietly as they started to separate. Fire erupted from my fists sending tendrils of flame upwards to lick at my forearms. “I’m leaving now, I think I’ve made my point, but I’m brewing for a fight, so if you push me or try to stop me that’s exactly what you’ll get.”

“Let him go!” I heard Greg’s voice from the hallway. He came running out, gasping for breath, trying to eek every last molecule of oxygen from the hyper-expanded air. “Just let him go, he’s fine, it’s okay, just let him go.” The guards relaxed slightly. I walked to the main door and looked back before going through. My last sight of the place was of the top of Janet’s head as she peered over her desk, eyes big and round like saucers. It was the first time she ever looked me in the eye. I pushed open the door and fell upwards into the morning sky.

Thanks, Mar... uh, Daemon.

There's more coming. I really appreciate the positive feedback. Thanks!

The street outside PC is almost never busy. It’s off in the North Eastern corner of Peregrine Island which has only in the last month been open for development. Until then it was still cordoned off as a dig site and technology gathering area. There was a little diner just down this avenue though, not a bad breakfast but not much else edible. The coffee was decent though. I lifted off and climbed about thirty feet so that I wouldn’t hit the power lines and sailed over the heads of the people below me. I wasn’t interested so much in speed as I was in avoiding the looks of the people on the street. We aren’t exactly rare, superheroes, but we’re not exactly really common either, and my uniform isn’t one that blends in with the crowd. Besides, I’d seen enough now that people have started to recognize me. If one more little boy runs away frightened and crying because the paper he gave me to sign my autograph smoked and burst into flames I don’t know what I’d do.

Joey’s Diner. What can be said about it? I landed in front of it and pulled the door open. How can a place be both busy and desolate at the same time? How much bacteria is capable of filling one space? The menu reads the same as in any other grease pit in the world; burgers, chips, club sandwiches and so forth. I walked up to the counter, doing my best “Superhero in a Strange Land” walk, trying very hard to not seem out of place in such a mundane setting. I looked down at my hands where they rested on the counter, all covered in that red mineral silicate material my gloves are made of. They allow heat to pass through but slow the process down. This allows me to touch things for a small amount of time before they actually start to char. Flames emerge at about my elbow and lick their way up my arms. The rest of the uniform is black and I have leather crosspiece that loops over both shoulders and under each arm to form an X on my chest. I have to replace it about once a week or it turns as black as the rest of my costume.

“Hey, Liv” Joey came around from behind the counter to sit at the stool beside where I was standing at the counter. “What brings you in, certainly not the food I hope” He smiled up at me. I smiled back. He had no idea I was smiling because of the cowl, but it’s the effort that counts, right?

“Not a bit of it, Joe. I wouldn’t feed this stuff to my
worst enemy’s favourite dog.” He laughed and shoved me, nearly toppling me. Joey used to be in the business too, he was one of the foremost tankers in Paragon but the Rikti invasion left him with half a set of lungs and half a set of arms.

“Well, what brings you into this rat infested sewage dump?” That got some strange looks from the diners.

“Just a coffee, or rather, a tea. Nothing for me though” Joey looked me up and down. “Honestly, Joey, seriously, don’t give me a hard time about it. Just let me go in peace.”

“You should just ask her, Liv. I don’t know why you’re such a chicken. You spend all your time taking on the roughest, baddest hombres that Paragon has to offer and you’re still scared of blond little girl.” It’s hard for someone to catch you rolling your eyes when they glow.

“She’s no’ interested, Joe. How many times do I have to say it, how many ways can I make it painfully obvious? When you’ve got guys like The Statesman and The Back Alley Brawler strolling past your desk all day, why in God’s name would she even look at me twice?” Joey just stares. “Joe, seriously, I’m asking because she hasn’t, ever, looked at me twice. Literally.” He shook his head and got to his feet, giving a little groan.

“I’ll get your tea.” He set about his task. I sighed and looked about me. Not a single head was raised from their meal, although I knew they were all listening. It’s the hottest gossip in town, who’s dating what superhero and so forth. It’s a real bugger to have any kind of social life when you do what we do. As if reading my thoughts, Joey’s voice came from the kitchen; “You know, there’s a tailor just opened up in Steel Canyon. He specializes in making clothing for people with special needs. You know, things that dampen radioactive emissions and stuff like that. Maybe he could do something for you. You should check it out. It might be good for you to experience what it’s like to walk around like a average Joe.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“Nah, that’s a good thought, Joe, but I’m still paying off this little number. It’s pretty much all the clothing I have. I can’t afford anything else until this is paid off.”

“Well, the guy who runs it is an old colleague of mine, maybe you could tell him I sent you and he can make a deal for you. I mean, he knows what it’s like, to be a cape. He’s one of us, from way back.”
He came back around the corner with one of those paper cups with the light blue Greek designs on them. “Just try it out” He finished, handing me the cup. I didn’t take. “Oh, sorry” He disappeared behind the counter and came back up with a metal circlet and placed the cup in it. “Here you go”
“Thanks, Joe. Maybe you’re right, maybe I’ll check it out.”
“Good, just go in and ask for Serge.” I nodded and turned away.

[ QUOTE ]
Vampiric? News to me.

[/ QUOTE ]

Dude, I told you like, last week. Remember, we went down to Sunset and had a latté. You ordered biscotti and I said "that stuff'll kill you" and you laughed and threatened to nerf Regen again.

Man... you always do this!

Thanks, Blood_Wolffe, I'll post some more a little later on.

You have but to ask.

Remember, most of this was written pre-I2 so some of it may not make sense and I've taken creative license with many of the characters and added my own stuff.

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CHAPTER 1

“The portal won’t be ready in time! How many times do I have to say this?” There was a silence from the office while the person on the other end of the phone spoke. “NO! Goddamit! What the hell is that matter with you, Cliff? The matrix used in the stabilizers won’t hold! We’re left with nothing but plasma when the thing shuts off and we can’t figure out what’s wrong with it.” Silence again. “Cliff, are you stupid or just deaf? There’s no damn way that anything organic can go through the thing, we….” Silence “No, we tried that we…” pause “no, we tried that, Cliff, we ca…” pause “Dammit, Cliff, will you shut up and listen? Do you have any idea how much money we’ve spent on produce on this project? Do you have any idea how many apples, oranges and tomatoes that we’ve tossed through this thing in an effort to see if we’ve managed to get it working properly?! Over FIFTEEN HUNDRED BUCKS!! ON FRIGGIN’ PRODUCE!!! And do you know why, Cliff? Because you won’t fund us enough for us to afford the diagnostic equipment to figure out what’s wrong with this damn thing!”

I’d heard enough, I walked away from the office. The name on the door read Greg Turner. Greg was the chief engineer on the portal project and he was pissed. The man on the other end of the phone was Cliff Somersville. He was the chief financial officer for Portal Corp and in charge of dispensing money for the various projects, or in this case, at this point, the only project. Portal Corp was just re-opening for the first time after the Rikti invasion. Having gathered up some of the toys the Rikti had left behind, what more was there to do but play with it and see if we couldn’t make it better.

I strolled down the grand hallway that emptied out from the left side of the building into the grand entranceway of Portal Corp. It was massive. It’s really the only word for it. The ceiling was easily sixty feet up (I know because I’ve been up there on many occasion while waiting for Greg to finish screaming at his chosen victim for the day) and the foyer itself went a good hundred and twenty feet from side to side and from the entrance door it was a good fifty feet to the gigantic marble desk. As big as the desk was it was dwarfed by the hall. It reminded me of when my brother built model furniture out of pieces of wood and left them sitting in the middle of the living room floor.

I made my way across the enormous hallway towards the desk. “Janet, how are you today?” She didn’t even look up. Blond, tall and gorgeous. I never could help chatting her up when I saw her.

“Fine, same as when you asked me when you came in about a half hour ago.” Well, I guess that was that then. One thing to be said about Paragon City, being a superhero doesn’t exactly inspire much awe. On the other hand, when your eyes glow red it’s rare than you are able to make eye contact with anyone.

I look down at myself. I always feel like a right [censored] when I’m in uniform in a place like this. I have images of Superman sitting about in a diner somewhere scoffing a club sandwich, his cape draped over the back of his booth. The only thing that would make me feel even more out of place is if I were to go and sit on the waiting couches with my legs, all black with red flames up to my thighs, crossed reading Cosmo, trying desperately to keep it from smoking. I’ve got to get out of here.

“Alright then. Well, I’m about to go out and get a bite. You want something?” All I get is a near imperceptible shake of Janet’s head. I sigh inwardly. I push the hair back from my face and lift the edge of my cowl slightly so that it more properly covers my nose and mouth and turn for the door.

“Wait!” I turn expectantly. Janet is looking at me with her head turned slightly. She bites her lip. “There was something I wanted to ask you.” My heart jumps “Can you bring me a tea, no sugar, one milk?”

“Yah, sure” I turn again. Sometimes having glowing eyes can be a blessing, they don’t reflect much of what I’m feeling.

I can't remember when I started writing this, but it was a while ago, probably before I2 hit. I pick away at it now and then but for the most part I'm unmotivated. Not because of the characters, but simply because I can see why it wouldn't really ever be published or used. I've messed with the story line of Paragon City enough that it wouldn't really be used for anythign official.

This is just the prologue, I have something like 4 or 5 chapters written out. Maybe if people here were interested in reading it I'd be tempted to keep writing. Lemme know what you think.

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O Brother, Where Art Thou - A working title
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PROLOGUE

There are some things you should know about me. My name is Fergus Mcrae. I was born in Isley, which is just off the coast of the mainland of Scotland. I am Hellfire incarnate. It burns within me, always pressing against my insides, always crying for release. Everything I touch is scorched and burnt, everyone I am close to is incinerated. My brothers, my friends, my mother, the people I try to help and everyone around me; all are burnt. And now Airazor is gone.

Paragon City is beautiful in the morning. The sun rises over the Eastern side of the city, breaking it’s light over Talos Island and even managing to relieve Dark Astoria of some of the gloom. It spills over the water and courses between the buildings like a golden fluid. Shadows flee and hide behind buildings and the city is revealed in all it’s glory and all it’s horror. Thugs roam the streets and while all that is beautiful is revealed, the ugliness becomes even more apparent. But I can’t always see it that way. I have to allow myself the luxury of ignoring these things from time to time. Airazor’s words echo.

I soar above Talos, the wind in my ears is a screaming whistle, and still my friend’s words are clear to me then as they were when they were first spoken that cloudy day in Perez Park. We pulled ourselves up from the ground, battered and bruised, having fought as hard as we could only to watch as a Murk dragged some poor woman, already half-dead, into the sewers. I surged to my feet, blood running down my face, my uniform torn across the back and hanging in tatters around my waist. I stumbled a few steps towards the entrance and fell to my knees. I couldn’t go any further. A hand on my shoulder, I could feel it. A heavy thump, I heard it and heard the scrape of Adamantium on rock.

“You can’t help everyone, Fergus.” I looked at my friend. He was as bad off as I was, worse even. There was a tear in his shirt and blood was flowing freely and quickly. His nose was obviously broken and he was cradling one arm, even as the claws in his wrists were extended and scraping on the stones under us. I was tired and hurt, but Airazor was wounded. He was on his knees beside me, swaying. “You can’t help them all.” I couldn’t believe my selfishness. He was far more hurt than I, and still chose to spend his last moments of consciousness comforting me. But that was typical of him, never asking for himself, only ever caring for me.

He was right, I can’t help them all. It’s the first and hardest lesson that anyone in this business can learn. You can’t help everyone, but you must help those you can. I gathered my friend up and together we limped out of Perez Park and back into Steel Canyon.

Bye, Vyv! We'll miss you! Stop in and say hi now and then!

Grats on the new promotion! Is this a power or slots promotion?

20/21

I missed the Riddler