This is a long one I know. This isnt really a origin piece either. Its more about a Heroes interaction with some of the Good Citizens in a rather mundane setting and their reactions to him. It was too long to submit for the origin contest, but I did put some effort into writing it so I figured I ought to post it somewhere.
If you do take the time to read it through please respond with some form of critique, good or bad. The Character is my one and only Scrapper called Hyena, a Dark/regen Scrapper of magical origin on Pinnacle.
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The pipes overhead clanked loudly as someone in the old Kings Row building shut off their water after a late evening shower. The pipes in this old residential block always clanked, groaned and rattled away down in the lower basement whenever used. In the colder months the huge old oil furnace that took up fully half of the lower level, and whose manufacturer had gone out of business decades ago, would add its own pinging, metal warping groans as back drop when it roared to life. Every year it would take more and more effort to coax the idle behemoth back too life, and every year the older residents would complain to the Landlord about the unreliability of the heat (too much, or more often, far too little). Every year they would receive the same explanations about the costs involved, the difficulty of working in the hard to access area and veiled threats as to how the exorbitant cost would be passed on to the renters.
The truth was the owners hoped never to have to replace the damned thing. It would cost a lot to replace sure, but the resulting inspections and refitting of the heating system would require even more building renovations to be done. The resulting expense could never be recouped; the lease rates they would then have to charge for the tenants to compensate would be far beyond the means of anyone who had to live in Kings Row. The improvements would also result in an increase of the property value and that would result in a higher tax rate and insurance rates. Simply not worth it.
The problem for the residents was that while the upper floors were sometimes not much warmer than the outside air the renters on the first two floors would at times have to open their windows and doorways in the dead of winter, and the basement with both the furnace and the old, sweaty water pipes was a virtual tropical hothouse.
It was here that the buildings least known tenant lived. Why anyone would choose to live down there was remarkable even for Kings Row, but the residents here had long ago learned to mind their own business. Mr. Earl as he was known kept strictly to himself and as far as anyone knew had only ever been on the first floor landing once. That was the night he had come to the Supers apartment to pick up the keys for the basement entrance. Since then he had always came and went from the street service entrance. There was one small studio space set far back in the basement past the monster furnace that, as far as anyone in the neighborhood could remember, hadnt been occupied since the Eisenhower administration.
Two weeks before Mr. Earls arrival the Super along with two temp workers hired out for the job had cleared out all the junk that had been stored there, repainted, added new fixtures, replaced the door and oversaw the moving in of a few nondescript pieces of furniture. When asked the Super said that the owners told him to make the small space ready for a new resident who would move in by the end of the month and that was all he knew about it. The renovations were done on time, and the next day the Super called the Landlord to tell him everything was ready. Mr. Earl arrived the following evening. Jose the cabbie who lived on the first floor had stopped off at the apartments to bring his wife some cold medicine and when he entered saw a man from the back at the Supers door being let in. As he had left a few minutes later he saw the same man, again from the back, descending the stairs just as the entrance door swung shut. The Super had stood in his own doorway watching him leave. On his own way out Jose stopped and spoke to his friend;
Hey, Compadre! You get them Bones ready for Sunday afternoon you hear? I got a sweet fare tonight all the way out to Founders Falls and they tipped big! Say they gonna go back that way Saturday and theyd look me up for the ride out again. If they tip just half of what they did tonight Ill still be ahead on my book and Ill pick up a twelve of that Jamaican beer you think is so sweet. Hell, Ill even let you have one if youll give me one of those fat cigars your brother sends you. He and the Super often played dominoes on Sundays, Joses only day off.
His friend merely nodded saying nothing and stood fingering his key ring staring after the new tenant. The cab driver looked out the way his friend was and looked back at him.
Was that the new renter?
The Super seemed to come back to the moment with a slight start.
Huh? Oh yeah. Yeah. That was him. He stopped and again stood staring out past the building entrance.
Well? said Jose with some impatience You up for a game on Sunday?
Yeah. And a beer or four. Might need me some beer before then., he had said, the last part more to himself than to the driver.
Jose looked again towards the entrance, You think hes gonna be trouble? Your boss jammin you up again with another of those dealers that pay six months up front and then do six months worth of damage to the place in a week?
No. Hes no dealer. Nothing like that.
But youre thinking he might be a problem?
The Super had turned his face to his friend with an expression mixed equally of puzzlement and worry, Im really not sure. I hope not.
Well he was big enough. I could tell that even with that long coat he was wearing, broad across the shoulders and then some he then added with a lascivious chuckle little Topaz catches sight of him she might give up the trade for a while. You know she likes them big. Jose was trying to lighten his friends mood a little, he didnt like that the Super was bothered by the new tenant. Life in the Row was difficult enough and the last thing they needed here was another semi-retired gang-banger or thug.
Topaz wont be getting any business from that one he had sounded annoyed Maybe you should to be out driving instead of worrying me with a bunch of questions. Go talk to all those drunks and hookers youre always cleaning up after when they hurl all over your back seat. God Jose, youre nosier than old lady Beadelman in 312.
Jose had laughed good naturedly as he walked out Thatll cost you one beer Sunday old man. Maybe Ill not let you win as much either and take all your cigars.
The Super had returned to his apartment, shut and locked his door and leaned back against it. He had been glad to be rid of Jose. He and the younger man had indeed formed a good friendship over the years. He was a good enough dominoes player, good enough that the Super looked forward to their Sunday games. The drivers wife would not let him smoke in their apartment and the City didnt allow smoking on any public transport so Jose really looked forward to his games with the Super. Sometimes after they had been playing for a few hours and were pleasantly buzzing along from strong beer and good tobacco Joses wife, a strikingly tall and surprisingly quiet woman from somewhere around Bayou Lafourche, would bring by a big serving of round steak with gravy and onions with maque choux on the side. She made it just right to, with the sweet marrow still in the bone. It was usually the only home cooked meal the Super would get, and it beat all hell out of what he would usually just pull out of the microwave himself. The driver had never taken advantage of their friendship by asking any special favors or consideration from him and that had impressed the older man. He could be trying, though, as he loved to talk and was always asking question, usually about the other tenants. The Super life revolved around everything in the building and he rarely left there, there was just too much to do. Jose on the other hand had to spend most of his time away in order to make a living. He did enjoy hearing about Joses many interesting stories about what was going on in the rest of the City and with his job. Normally he would be looking forward to hearing about Founders Falls, he was sure the driver would be very happy to relate everything he saw while there, but he didnt want to talk about the new tenant, and he'd had no doubt Jose would be asking much more invasive questions about him.
A little less that a month before that night the boss had called and asked him how hard it would be and how much it would cost to fix the downstairs unit up for occupancy. The extra space had been used for storage for years and had accumulated quite a bit of clutter. He would first have to sort through all of it, haul off what was junk, find a use or a place for what wasnt, clean it, paint, check the plumbing and wiring and most likely replace some things. He would have to have some help as well. There wasnt any way he could do all that by himself. Say two weeks and at least a couple of grand. He had fully expected the boss to balk at that but he had said Fine. Do what ever you have to and send me the receipts. Just make sure its ready by the end of the month. He had asked if the boss realized that that space was the worst place in the building for anyone to live and had been told in a rather short tone that the client had been made aware of what the space was like but had still insisted on an apartment with a private entrance.
After having met with the new tenant he had understood why.
Jose had been right about him being a big one, but Jose had only seen him from the back and at a moderate distance. The cabbie had noted the mans breadth of shoulder, but at that distance had had nothing to judge them against as far as scale. The Super had, and his first sight of the man when he had answered his knock at the door had startled him rather badly. The man literally filled his doorway. The Super himself was six feet tall and even though he was far closer to 60 now than 50, he still stood ram-rod straight and set out to around 190. The work here didnt let him get fat. But this one had had at least six more inches on him, and even then reliving in his mind the few minutes in which he had spoken to Mr. Earl, he couldnt even begin to estimate how much the man might weigh. The mans shoulders hadnt been just broad, they were disproportionately wide even taking into account his height. His chest was also far too massive. The long, oiled, heavy leather riding coat he'd worn did nothing to hide this, nor did the untucked safari shirt he wore underneath. Both coat and shirt were worn open, the shirt half way with a neutral colored wife-beater beneath that. On his head he had worn a wide brimmed bush hat pulled down low over long, coarse, deeply russet colored hair that was streaked black. The hat had been angled in such a way as to keep most of his face shadowed, but the Super had made out an equally coarse though well groomed Franz-Joseph style beard the same color as the hair. Having to look up at someone was something he wasnt used to having to do with most people. He had been taken aback just at the sight of the large, powerful looking man that had been at his door. But he'd been even more startled by the sound of the mans voice when he had spoken.
The man had been abrupt, though not really rude, in his speech after the Supers initial greeting upon answering the door. His manner of speaking was aggressive, much like that of military officers when speaking to subordinates but it was the timbre, inflection and sound of that voice, at once both strange and familiar, that had made the Super feel vaguely afraid in the deep, primitive parts of his brain. Each sentence that the man had spoken started with what sounded like a moaning growl that changed octaves quickly before melding clumsily with the beginning consonant. The man had seemed to be making an effort to speak clearly and his tone was harsh and somewhat forced as though his throat and vocal cords were straining to produce articulate words.
You are the Supervisor of this building?
Yes he had said Im the Super here.
I was told that you were to be expecting me tonight. I am Mr. Earl. I am here for the keys to the small flat in the lower level.
Flat? He had called it a flat.
Um, yes. Im sorry
.yes. I have your keys.
I should like to come in if you please. I wish to speak privately.
Oh! Uh
OK. Heh, sorry. Please come in. He'd noticed Jose out of the corner of his eye carrying a small bag from the drug store opening the entrance doors. The man had moved inside, slightly turning his body to get through the doorframe. He came inside in such a direct way that the Super had had to back away and let go the door. The man closed the door firmly himself and turned back to face the Super.
I need to be assured of one thing first. Will I be able to enter this flat from another entrance and not through the public access here inside?
Yes. You passed it when you came up the stairs coming in. If you go back out and go right at the bottom of the stairs and look right, youll see more steps going down. Go down those and under the stairwell and the door is there.
Where is the other way down?
Well, theres a set of steps that lead down next to the laundry room that I use if I need to go down for anything. I keep a lot of my tools and parts down there and it is how I access the furnace when I need to. Your place will be on the other side, back past the furnace on the corner side of the building. Im really the only one who goes down there much, or has any need to really, so you wont be bothered.
Very good then. Mr. Earl had then reached into his coat and pulled out a manila envelope, handing it to the Super. He'd gotten his third start of the night when he saw the hand of the man that handed him the envelope. He had thought the man was wearing gloves at first but now he'd seen that the mans' skin was a slate colored grey. In addition his nails where a blue-black as though lacquered and the knuckles were large, calloused and rough. He had seen knuckles like that on many a harbor bar tough in his merchant seaman days. Men who liked to fight with their fists. The skin and nails though were another matter. This must be one of those Vigilantes that had been coming through Atlas in such great numbers over the last year and a half.
You will find all the necessary documentation in there as well as a copy of the receipt showing the deposit and the rent paid up through this time next year. You will understand that I keep a very odd schedule and will sometimes be away for days, perhaps even weeks, at a time. My rent will be renewed when appropriate until such time as I may need to move elsewhere. The owner or I will let you know if there has been any change to this arrangement. Until you hear otherwise from one of us, the flat is leased and occupied regardless of any extensive absence on my part. Understood?
Sure, I understand. Wont be any problems.
Does the grocer deliver here?
Well yes, but the only one that uses them for that is Mrs. Beadelman on the third floor. She has stuff dropped off every Wednesday.
Very good. I want to ask something of you, if I may. I know this may not come under your responsibilities here but if I were to have my groceries delivered here and then be unable to store them as I may be called away unexpectedly would you be willing to place them in my icebox in my flat for me? Im sure you have a master key and would be able to enter my place unless the door is bolted. As he asked this he'd brought out a one hundred dollar bill from one of the shirt pockets and held it out to the Super I do realize that my living here will most likely cause you some difficulty, and I can also see by your reaction to me that your employer did not fully explain me to you (that was for damned sure, he was going to make a phone call the next day, first thing) but you must believe that I will not intentionally cause any problems for you or the other residents here. In fact, I have no doubt that you will find things improving overall here in this neighborhood rather quickly now that Im here. I do like a quite retreat when Im not working. He had raised up his head a little as he spoke to let the light from the room show more fully on his face and had smiled at the Super. The was no sarcasm or mocking tone in what he had said, he was being sincere and was genuinely trying to reassure the Super of his honest intensions and his regret at the unfair surprise his employer had sprung on him. All the same, he hoped never to see that smile again.
He had continued to hold the bill out to the Super.
Please take this as a gratuity for all your work preparing the flat for me, and for any future extra services I may need from you. He gestured with the bill towards the Super Please.
He had accepted the bill and Mr. Earl had again smiled at him causing the Super to nervously avert his gaze from his face. He had mentally cursed himself for being so rude but he could not help it. The smile was more like a feral grin from some predator, the large, strong white teeth in sharp contrast against the strange grey complexion. The canines looked oddly placed, farther forward and slightly longer than other peoples.
The smile faded from Mr. Earls face to be replaced by a look of sad resignation. He cleared his throat (an even more disconcerting sound) and brought his head back down, slightly readjusting his hat.
Well I suppose thats all then.
He stood there a moment longer. The Super turning the envelope around in his hands to begin opening it.
Ill just go down and look things over a bit, though Im sure everything will be in order. Ill have the rest of my things sent by tomorrow and be settled in by tomorrow evening then.
He had continued to stand as if waiting. The Super finally made himself look up from his study of the envelope and it contents.
Well? said Mr. Earl
Im sorry?
The keys if its not too much trouble.
OH! Yes! Your keys! Im sorry, I was, uh, just looking over the lease. Here, just a sec. he set the papers down on the phone stand and had begun fumbling with his belt ring to give the man his keys. He experienced a chest tightening moment when he was unable to find the necessary keys on it. He began a slightly more frantic jingling search through the keys a second time before remembering that he had put the keys on a separate ring and had put them in his front pocket. Mr. Earl had stood without movement, watching him in silence with his hands behind his back as he did this.
Here ya go. He said as he handed them to him I keep a spare set around if you should ever lose them.
To be sure Mr. Earl turned and let himself out, stepping out into the hall and adjusting the collar of his coat Ill see myself down and look things over, no need to trouble yourself. If I have any problems or questions Ill let you know. He was already walking away as he said this.
Ok, Ill talk to you soon Mr. Earl
He'd received no reply from the man as he stood watching him walk out. He was considering following him down anyway and showing him around the basement when Jose had approached and began talking to him.
After finishing with Jose he had crossed his small living room into his tiny bachelors kitchen and took out a nearly full bottle of good bourbon from the cupboard over the fridge. He picked up one of the two rocks glasses from the drainer, started to get some ice for it, changed his mind after a moment and just poured the glass two thirds full and set the bottle on the counter. He took a good stiff hit of the whiskey, squeezing shut his eyes against the initial burn you always get from that first swallow of bourbon, and then slowly let them relax open as he felt the spreading warmth radiate across his chest and arms as the alcohol hit his stomach and entered his system. He inhaled deeply, pulling the fumes from the drink into his lungs and exhaled slowly, relaxing his neck and shoulders. He returned to the living room with the glass and sat heavily in his chair. He picked up his remote and idly turned on his TV out of rote habit. He had been too lost in thought to really pay any attention to what was on. He'd sat in silence in the soft glow of the TV, sipping the bourbon and considering all the implications that might follow having some one like this Mr. Earl living there. Bottom line for him had been this.
Mr. Earl scared him.
And it looked as though he was going to have to be the one, and the only one, that would deal with him when and while he was there. The City was supposed to pay these Heroes and pay them well from all he had read. It was also supposed to take care of any and all expenses resulting from their work, including any medical and/or funeral expenses. It had occurred to him that the owners may have had little choice in renting out one of their apartments to Mr. Earl, or, and this was most likely, they had seen a steady rental check that would not bounce and a way to further grease the skids with the Citys zoning commission. It would certainly help keep out some of the rougher elements. He just wished he had been told. It would have given him time to go ahead a take that early retirement and move his [censored] down to the Florida Keys, far away from this crazy city. He could drink all the Jamaican beer he wanted and play dominoes with Cubans outside on the beach under the palms, the way God had meant them to be played.
His eyes had focused in on the TV as he tried to put Mr. Earl out of his mind and started to go over in his head what he needed to do in the following days. Calling the boss and giving him a little Hell and demanding a fat raise was first on the list. It was nagging at him that he was unable to put his finger on what it was about Mr. Earls voice that sounded so familiar. He had certainly never heard its like before, but still, there it was. He seemed to still hear some echoes of it as he sat there. He'd finally noticed at last what was playing on the set. He was a hopeless channel surfer like most men, and he never remembered what station he had stopped at when he had finished the night before. This time it was on one of those nature channels that showed all these documentaries about different animals. This one looked to be set in Africa. The scene up showed a herd of Cape buffalo being filmed at night. They were nervously shifting around, staring blindly into the darkness, snorting and stamping in fear and confusion as the calls of predators began to fill the night. Those calls coming through the speaker caused the Super his own gut seizing cramp of fear as he listened. His hand began to shake slightly as he had raised the rocks glass to his lips to down the last of the bourbon. He did not shut his eyes that time, and he barely noticed the burn. Instead his unblinking eyes never left the screen. He wished desperately that he had brought the bottle from the kitchen. At that moment though, it may as well have been a thousand miles away. He had been unable to lift himself from the chair. He couldnt even make himself press the power button on the remote to turn off the TV.
On the screen the herd clumsily wheeled about and began to run off, scattering and getting in each others way as they tried to flee the hunters. From the corner of the screen the loping shapes and glowing eyes of the hunters resolved themselves into view and the scene shook as the camera man tried to steady the camera on the bouncing land rover as the driver followed the fleeing herd. The terrified bellows of the Cape buffalo were soon drowned out by the strange, moaning calls of the triumphant hyenas.
Sasheem
Oh, don't worry. It's comin'.
Plan is to start a separate 'David's Art Thread' for the more polished art (like Viceroyalty). But I figured I'd finish off the sketches first, and there're about 15 more of those at least with more trickling in every week. 
