Shadowe

Samantha Huntington hurled the sheet from her bed and sat bolt upright, listening carefully to the sounds within the house. The familiar faint hum of the generator powering the five-storey high cylindrical computer core hidden in the basement could be barely heard, as well as faint footsteps in the hallway outside - a cursory search with her mind's eye revealed that it was one of Helena's avatars. She was too warm. Again. Sleep was always hard for her, and only got harder as the days got hotter.

Blearily she rubbed her eyes. She had a couple of hours before she needed to head down to kitchen too start cooking breakfast for everyone - assuming Mum didn't beat her there again - so she might as well...

SLAM!

A mind ripped through her psychic defences like they weren't there, and she recoiled in horror as an agonising pressure built up in her skull. The only other time she'd felt something like this was when Sister Psyche tested her, and even that hadn't...

Morning, Sam.

The all-too familiar voice made her quake with fear.

Andrew.

Oh, yes. You don't expect that anyone else would come to you this way, do you?

She tried - really tried - to rebuild her barriers, to force him from her mind, but he had reserves of energy that she couldn't comprehend, and she was still muddled from lack of sleep. No, Andrew, you're the only person in the world who'd talk to me like this. What do you want?

His presence in her mind grew, swelling like gorging tick, and the revulsion she felt as he sifted through her memories made her gag.

I just want to say sorry, Sammy. To you, and your friends, and Richard, and that little red-head he's so enamoured of. He doesn't believe me, though. Doesn't believe that I've realised the truth. I know what fate has in store for me now, and I embrace it. I welcome my destiny, and I thank Richard for giving it to me. It's just a pity that he doesn't see it himself.

Andrew's presence withdrew from her mind, and she collapsed back onto the bed, sobbing, gasping for breath, terrified beyond reason, as his last thought played over and over.

"Y-you... you're not better, Andrew. You're not above mankind. You're not God." The tears streamed down her face. "And neither is Richard."

Richard, having returned part-way through Zorielle's call, had managed to recover much of his composure, and listened to Mary's words carefully, nodding, smirking to himself when she mentioned 'righteous indignation', and actually chuckled when she stomped on any egotism he might possess about his own capabilities. He addressed Mary plainly, as if she had made it clear she was talking directly to him, well aware that he was the greatest unknown of all of them - to his knowledge he had never actually fought side-by-side with the Unity Vigil before, and those few members who knew anything about his abilities had only observed them during the Requiem War nearly two years previously.

"My dear, I think you can trust me to avoid unnecessary risks. Yes, I'm a bit of a lone gunman. Yes, I'm aware that I'm more than capable of succeeding with the sorts of individual heroics you quite rightly deplore in this circumstance. No, I'm not an idiot. No, I'm not going to do anything foolish... and even though the current deployment pattern has me acting alone, as I do best, I will have direct support, in the form of the lovely BODICIA, without whom I would feel quite lost, I assure you. I think you can safely trust that she will keep an eye on me."

He paused, taking a deep breath. "And since we're all being so candid about things, I'd just like to point out that I've rarely worked beside a team as dedicated and professional as this one. It honours me to have been selected to help. If it will help you to get an idea of my capabilities, so that you can make best use of me, then I'll tell you what I can." He bowed his head deferentially to Mary. "I may not be a soldier, and I may not be one of the 'gang', but if BODICIA says that you're in charge here, then you're in charge here."

Rich looked at Nick, fiddling with the strap of his watch in an apparently nervous reflex. "I ain't in the habit of keepin' momentoes, an' the access-card thingy-whatsit that Huntington gave 'er is in some big office-block in Par'gon, so I can't track 'er that way, neither. This'd be a piece of cake, otherwise. An' I don't exactly trust magic." As he spoke, his mind raced frantically, seeking ideas, planning possible outcomes. The words of the Longbow report came back to him, making him shudder. 'Systematically beaten'. Officialese for 'had the holy living hell beaten out of her, and might not live through it'.

Whispering quietly to himself, he closed his eyes, ignoring the fact that BODICIA would be able to hear every word he said, or simply not caring.

"Fair warning to whomever has her. If she has come to further harm, I will rain down destruction upon you like the hand of God!" Drawing in a shuddering breath, he remembered a conversation he had recently been a part of - an unwanted conversation, on his part - where his worst nightmare had likened them both to Gods, and was clearly enjoying the idea.

Jolting to his feet, Richard stormed toward the back of the plane, still muttering to himself, a few words clearly audible as he passed the others.

"... still bloody human. I am..."

Richard sat quietly for a long moment as the report made by Longbow Eagle 3020 scrolled across the inside of his glasses. One thing caught his eye. The person who took Linda away. Blonde, attractive, leather, chains and a skull motif. Once again he wished that Longbow had full recording tech built into their outfits. It would make life so much easier at times like this.

"Her." His single word was almost lost in the conversation. "We're not looking for Linda, we're looking for her. The one who took Linda way from Longbow. The report indicates some concern for Linda's wellbeing, but nothing I'd call concrete."

He frowned, considering. "I wonder how well she deals with rich Englishmen who buy her drinks in bars..."

He glanced up as BODICIA talked, and smiled as she addressed him. "Rich is kinda a loner, but I've been workin' close with a sweet little vixen name o' Candy, last few weeks. Dunno who this Liberty Girl chick is, 'n' don' really care. My Candy's missin' an I'm gonna find the tart that got 'er."

He took the UV comms unit and inserted it into his ear, straightening up from the slouch that seemed as much a part of 'Rich Hunter' as the voice. "Remind me to ask Helena to give you a direct feed to my network when we get home, BODICIA."

Dropping back into a negligent slump, he carried on. "I can handle teamwork, sure, but I don't see no reason to be share the prize. 'Sides, as long as I got a beautiful blonde whisperin' in my ear, d'I need anythin' else?" He winked at BODICIA.

Chuckling quietly, Richard shook his head at Misha. "My dear, think about it - we're entering a foreign nation with the intention of battering an undisclosed number of citizens into giving us some information. Then we're going to mount an assault against an as-yet unknown location, battering more citizens along the way, just to recover one person. Do you think that Recluse is going to merely look the other way if it goes wrong for us? Just because we hold licenses from the United States Government saying that we can protect it doesn't mean we have the legal right to do what we're about to do. And if it does go wrong, then who do you think will get the stick poked at them? Zorielle. This is an unsanctioned operation, and it makes sense for there to be someone used as a sacrificial lamb if needed. And while I'd rather make sure that things go well enough that we don't need to use a fallback plan, I can't think of a better one than 'the rogue hero planned it, organised it, tricked us into it, so pick on him, not the completely innocent Unity Vigil."

He looked down at the deck-plates. "And besides, if prison doesn't agree with me, there's not a gaol on this Earth that has been built that can hold me for long if I want to get out of it. So if we have to, we sacrifice the one person who can escape whatever they throw at us, as a diversion if nothing else." Raising his head to meet her eyes, he continued. "And if it all works, then we share the kudos for a job well done, and laugh at the crooks out here who think that Paragon's heroes can't and daren't touch them in their safe little island homes."

Grinning, Richard lifted a hand and began ticking points off on his fingers. "Firstly, the money isn't that important - I can afford it quite merrily without asking BODICIA to break into Mrs Rolando's accounts - but getting Linda back is. Secondly, I doubt anyone will be able to cash the bounty, simply by virtue of my intention that we do that part of things, the bounty is just to get people thinking the right way and to make whomever has her nervous. Thirdly, we are not going to get in any sort of trouble for this - I'm hoping to be able to put the blame for any chaos we cause firmly on Rich Hunter's head, or better yet, that of an old... acquaintance of mine." A bitter smile flashed across his face for a moment.

"And lastly... if it really hits the fan, and we end up so deep that the whole world knows who we are and why we're there... then I give myself up. I'm the cutout. The loose cannon. The independant vigilante who tricked you all into coming out here with me. The Vigil stays clean."

Richard smiled at Ice. "We do have a few things going for us, my dear. Not as much as I'd like, but we can infer some additional details, I think. Firstly, we know from the rumours when and where she was taken. It's interesting that the rumour came to Paragon via Longbow troops returning from the islands, and that at approximately the same time as Linda vanished a single Longbow Eagle reported the successful apprehension of three of the Verandi family's muscle in the right part of town. I want to speak to 'Eagle Thirty-Twenty', or whatever his real name is. If I have to start throwing Jessica Duncan's name around, then I can, and I'm sure she'll forgive me, but I'm the suspicious sort. If Longbow knew the rumour before anyone else, then they know more than anyone else. I think that E-3020 may have seen something that will give us the edge we need."

He paused, considering. "An alternative course of action would be to utilise the people to our own advantage. Given a little time, we can probably get some kindly folks to do a lot of the work for us. Rich Hunter knows an Arachnos Arbiter moderately well - they're drinking buddies, mainly because Rich always seems to call when he's had a well-paying job and has money in his pocket. Well, if the good Mister Hunter tells his friend that he has a bounty that needs collecting - Liberty Girl, alive, and don't ask where the body gets dumped after - then we might flush something out of the woodwork. Hunter is known for being tight as a badger's [censored] when he's looking for work, but generous when he has money to burn - $50,000 sounds about right to me."

Rich flopped down into a vacant chair and sprawled casually. "It's simple, right? We're heading in, and we're gonna bust heads until we find out who took the blonde tart, and where they took her. Someone's gonna know. What I need is an idea of what sort of [censored] we're gonna have ta deal with on the ground - we gonna be in the middle of a housing estate, or an open field, or are we dropping smack inta the homestead of some Lord High Mucky-muck of the Spiders? I jus' wanna know how much damage we're gonna have ta do to the place afore we even start on the real work." As he spoke it was obvious that he was becoming more and more submerged into the persona he was projecting.

"We'll find 'er, don't nobody worry 'bout that, but if I'm gonna be huntin', I need ta know the lay of the land."

A wry smile quirked his lips, and he spoke in his normal voice. "Naturally, if we have to use extreme measures to extract the information, I'd prefer to do as little harm to innocents as we possible can. But getting Linda home and safe has top priority over everything except getting out of this mess ourselves."

Richard chuckled at Ryan's performance, and pronounced in his typical cultured tones, "every inch the disaffected youth, my boy. You'll fit in perfectly."

Looking at the outfits chosen by everyone else, he looked down at his own figure-hugging leather, and smiled. "I think I might cause a scandal if I turn up like this. Especially if I put on the cape, too. Let me see..." He examined his wristwatch intently for a moment, then sharply twisted the dial. A faint hum and a fizzing blur wrapped around him for a moment, fading in and out a few times before settling to nothingness.

Worn leather trousers over scuffed boots were topped off by a tight black t-shirt, over which he now wore a creased and crumpled leather jacket. His hair, previously nothing but an average brown, had electric-blue highlights. When he spoke, he no longer used his normal, smooth tones, but a gruff, slightly accented growl, his face set in a scowling frown. "Looks like Rich Hunter needs to pull Candy's [censored] out of the fire. Again."

((D'oh! I knew that. Just me getting confused about where we actually are right now. My bad.))

Richard watched the interplay between Ice and BODICIA with honest amusement, and smiled kindly at the young woman before turning his attention back to Nick.

((Didn't want to break the flow, but it's the Atlantic, Z!))

Richard gazed out of the viewport, and felt the familiar tightening of his stomach as the aircraft rose above the clouds - a ridiculous situation, given that he was quite capable of stepping outside and keeping pace with the plane under his own power.

Dipping his head to give BODICIA a tiny kiss on the cheek, he murmured, "I'll go have a word with him, in that case. More fool me for trusting in GPS and precision navigation software rather than learning my own way around the islands, I suppose." Straightening, he smiled. "I prefered the red dress, you know. Or that frankly adorable outfit you wore yesterday. But both are little impractical in the current situation, I'll admit." With a wink and a grin, he moved toward Nick where he was sitting, and extended his hand.

"Good morning, Nick. I'm Richard, in case you hadn't guessed. I'm hoping you might be able to furnish me with some details about the area we'll be operating in. Let's just say that the last time I undertook a job out here without knowing what I was letting myself in for, I ended up on the wrong side of some strawberries and cream, and I hate surprises."

Richard smiled gently at Burned Ice's tirade, then unbuckled his safety belt and rose to his feet before moving forward down the aisle. He rested a hand on Burned Ice's shoulder as he passed, giving it a gentle squeeze, murmuring sincerely, "you look fine, my dear - the slightly mixed fashion thing is 'in' right now. Though you might want to clean a little of the dye off your face. How can you expect the boys to fall all over themselves about how pretty you are if they can't see it?"

He brushed past, and continued to the front where he perched himself next to BODICIA, angled so that he could easily observe their flight and the rest of the plane.

"What can we expect at our insertion point, my dear? In terms of environment, I mean - my expectations for what we'll face will wait until we're there."

Richard listened to BODICIA's litany, nodding at various points. He snorted slightly at the description of Arachidamia, for some reason, and smiled fondly at Ryan. When the OverAI had finished, he nodded curtly, once. "I see. I suppose that makes me the mother of all fire-support, then. And in the interests of directing the 'artillery' as effectively as possible, it seems I'll be sticking close to young Burned Ice. Damn. That'll get the rumour-mill turning, for certain, especially after my little display a moment ago." He sighed heavily.

"Don't be too hard on Linda, though, my dear. She's dedicated, strong, capable and not possessed of the blinkers that I so often see in those with a military background - she's willing to think and work outside the box. It's just a shame that the excrement hit the rotary air impeller for her, this time out." Shaking his head, he muttered, "why couldn't the girl have asked me to come along, for Heaven's sakes? She knows what it's like out there. We've spent enough time over there tracking down leads recently..." He looked up sharply at BODICIA, his eyes hardening, well aware that she will have overheard his monologue. "That's classified information, my dear. I do hope you won't compromise my position with it." Attempting to salvage the situation as much as he can, he draws his lips into a familiar grin. "There are far more interesting compromising positions available, after all."

Nodding slowly, Richard followed the gynoid as she made herself busy. "I can see why you'd want to do that - let's not attract more attention than we need to. What can you tell me about everyone, my dear? If this was a Fletched Alliance job, I'd know how to fit into things - as it is, I'd rather know a little about everyone's capabilities beforehand so that I can tailor my... responses... appropriately." He glanced around the plane, a calculated move, considering that he was getting a permanent 360-degree image through his glasses.

Chuckling quietly to himself, not offended in the slightest by Misha's gesture, Richard smiled at BODICIA. "My dear, you, of all of us, should know that true beauty is ageless, and that youth by no means indicates immaturity. I was merely offering the young lady my assistance and advice, if she desires it." He took slow, measured steps to close the distance to the gynoid, lowering his voice to a quiet whisper. "And besides, you know as well as I that my interests lie... elsewhere."

Struggling to avoid laughing at the teenage girl's expression, Richard nodded slowly to her, still smiling. "Well, my dear, if you need a hand slipping into something a little more comfortable, just call. Oh, I'm Richard, by the way, if you think that 'Shadowe' is too ostentatious. It's a pleasure to meet you, and I look forward to working closely with you - well, with all of you, I suppose - today... and perhaps even closer in the future?" He turned his gaze to BODICIA and winked slyly. "While I think about it, and while we have time, can I just ask if there is any news on Cassandra, my dear?"

Richard's gaze turned to follow BODICIA as she moved down the aisle, and he smiled at the question posed by Burned Ice. "Well, unless things have changed drastically in the last few days, my dear, black leather is pretty much standard." He looked down at his own outfit and chuckled. "Though perhaps this is a little much, even for me." He favoured the young woman with another wink and a smile.

Richard smiled as the young woman flushed brightly and shrank away - time later to try putting her at her ease, which would be either exceptionally easy, or harder than going toe-to-toe with Lord Recluse, depending on whether 'cute' translated into 'he's a nice looking man who teases me and it's fun!' or 'Oh my gosh, I'm crushing on him sooooo much, talk to me Richard, please!'.

Nodding politely, if briefly, to Misha, he turned back to BODICIA, then blushed hotly himself as he realised that without his cape to cover up, his leather-clad backside was being rather prominently - and tightly - displayed to everyone aboard.

Richard tried hard - very hard - to ignore the conversation going on behind him, thoughtfully played to him at enhanced volume by Helena, but couldn't resist half turning his head and winking at Burned Ice, a wry smile of shared cameraderie quirking his lips. He certainly didn't think of himself as a 'heavy hitter', but he was well aware of his own capabilities, and he supposed that the definition could fit - while not as universally powerful as, say, the high-ups in the Guardians of Destiny, the fact that he was effectively immortal and had never even scratched the surface of his total potential energy output, because it hurts, damnit, meant that his concern for self-preservation was somewhat sub-par. Not that it would make him any less cautious where the wellbeing of those around him was concerned.

Richard Huntington, dressed in figure-hugging black leather, festooned with buckles, walked up the steps into the Unity Wing, his head for once uncovered. In a small pack clutched in one hand was his cape, his mask, environmental filter and the 'cloth' wrap - actually a flexible anti-ballistic and puncture-proof weave - he used to cover the lower half of his face, neck and shoulders. He felt more than a little self-conscious as he looked around at the other occupants of the jet - he wasn't a member of the Vigil and the Warriors of Darkness weren't even loosely affiliated with them, but he couldn't not be here. Because Linda was in trouble, and he had made it his job to look after her out there in the Isles. And he never shirked his responsibilities.

He had been in bed when the call came through, and he fondly remembered the grumbling moans from Vicky as he slipped away after Helena patched the message through to him. It was the work of only a couple of minutes for him to shower, dress, and head into the basement to access his teleportation network.

An almost preternatural calm washed over him as he moved into the cabin and strode, with a confidence he really didn't feel, to the front of the plane. Leaning with a forced casualness on the back of the pilot's chair, he murmured quietly to BODICIA. "Good morning, my dear. I'll have you know that there are very few ladies in the world for whom I'd get up at this time of the morning. You happen to be one of them."

As he waited for her reply, he vaguely considered the probable impact of his presence on the Isles. His yacht had been moved overnight to a spot just over the horizon from the Nerva archipelago, its active defences fully online. Helena had inserted one of her avatars - Mark 4, the fully independent unit - into Crimson Cove, and she had been quietly and carefully spreading rumours amongst the populace that Crey Biotech were sweeping the streets at night with press-gangs. As far as Richard was concerned, no action was too extreme to minimise casualties, and he had spent enough time out here recently to actually care for the general populace. If the wrong people saw him, though, and identified the Unity Vigil correctly, Rich Hunter could end up in a lot of trouble from the wrong people. Which was why he'd elected to go for his most striking and recognisable hero costume, rather than any of the outfits he normally wore while working the islands.

[ QUOTE ]
I do it with whipped cream and a blindfold.

[/ QUOTE ]

I am Shadowe, and I am slightly nauseous about this post.

[ QUOTE ]
((Liberty Girl has been part-time undercover in the Rogue Isles trying to solve the mystery of her mentor's disappearance - she would be fired up to do something about a similar attack on another friend and would be champing at the bit to get her hands on the people who clobbered Cindersnap - she's available if you can use her))

[/ QUOTE ]

((Too good an opportunity for me to pass up, Dan - Fiction ahoy!))

{Somewhere in the Rogue Isles, the recent past}

The lone figure stood in the rain, shoulders hunched, the collar of his scuffed leather jacket turned up to protect his neck from the drizzle. Eyes hidden behind dark glasses peered out through the haze. Someone watching him would know that his seemingly slow walk was deceptive. Every time he wasn't under direct observation he broke into a run at a phenomenal pace, stopping just as quickly. It was the only way he could keep watch on the person he was following - a young woman who seemed to be moving about with sinister purpose, questioning, bullying, bribing.

A more astute observer would identify the shock of blue hair as that of Rich Hunter - a man with a quiet reputation for finding the hidden, recovering the lost and - spoken in only the quietest whispers in the darkest dives of the Isles - someone you don't cross if you want to walk away.

Hunter continued his silent stalking, making a curt gesture at an Arachnos soldier who walked too close. A small flare of light gathered in Hunter's palm, and the soldier backed away, swallowing loudly. Hunter ignored him, still intent on the girl he followed.

----------

Richard Huntington hated the rain. He hated Arachnos. He hated the Rogue Isles. And above all he hated following a young woman with a temper who hadn't actually done anything wrong. But he believed with all his heart that he knew how she thought, and there was no way he would let her put herself in danger over something like this. Yes, revenge was necessary sometimes, but if she wanted to live more than a week longer she needed either looking after, or guiding the right way, and it looked like the job was his.

Muttering quietly to himself, he carried on his slow-quick-slow movement, trusting the display projected on the inside of his glasses to let him know when it was safe to move faster than Rich Hunter should be able to. "Damnit, Linda. Why couldn't you be a nice quiet girl who likes to sit in a library at the college? Why couldn't you play 'hunt the Hellion' in Atlas Park, like any sensible heroine? No, you have to be the adventurous type, and head out to the Isles." A heartfelt sigh escaped from his lips. "At least I get to go sleep in my yacht tonight." The prospect of curling up in his gently rocking boat, a bottle of wine and a good book to hand, nearly made him leave then and there. But he took himself to task. Watch the girl. Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid. And bring down the wrath of God Almighty on anyone foolish enough to try anything with her.

"That's your job, Huntington. You volunteered. Get on with it."

Choices, choices, choices...

Okay. Down to brass tacks. I have to say Ammon, that Toxic Glow sounds like a wonderful person for Samantha to get to grips with.

Basically, because of Sam's personality, someone with whom she can feel both attraction and repulsion would be ideal. I expect that she would view someone with a mercenary outlook as a challenge - so while she may appreciate the man, she would experience frustrations regarding his point of view.

Well, my main has a personal nemesis already, another of my toons, which makes it rather hard for me to RP them meeting, but I could seriously do with a personal nemesis for Samantha Huntington.

So, if anyone has any ideas for a nasty they'd like to play who would make a good match for a telepathic, radioactive flirt with a naughty sense of humour, please let me know!

Heh. Just realised... Want ads!

WANTED: Telepathic, radioactive flirt seeks villain for fun, frolics and fights. No gender preference. GSOH a must.

[ QUOTE ]
what if it wasn't an opinion on the rikti, and these people claimed that it was the truth.... such as a hero or villain from another planet who was attacked by the rikti as cut through the galaxy on their way to attack earth?

because... you know... i seen that in a bio before.....

[/ QUOTE ]

So have I. And I wanted to correct the player. But I simply assume that the character is lying, or twisting things to their own ends to acheive a certain result IC. And that's cool. As long as they're prepared for a large number of people to say "Umm, hang on a minute, we all know that the Rikti didn't attack Earth that way... something's not right here..."