Sibling

Gal was just placing the last of the homing beacons on a small group of Hellions, trouble she had encountered on her way to work at Tony’s. It was a crisp afternoon, so she was glad for the heavy jacket thrown over her shoulders. Walking to the nearest Kiosk, she keyed in her Paragon ID code, and placed the “Criminals for Pick Up” call and coordinates. A chill spread down her arms, more a vague sense of unease than the cold, and that bothered her.

Since she had taken the first steps into the Sisterhood, many years ago, the ability to sense danger or trouble had grown. Her powers, granted by the tiara she wore (although contact with the relic had imbued many powers into her body), were more for absorbing damage and resisting injury, but that also translated into the ability to avoid some damage. She never thought of it, but intuition was one of those powers.

Pulling on her jacket, a gift from Bubbles (“You can’t have too many outfits!”), her right arm pushed through the elbow. She turned her arm, examining the torn cotton, it looked like one of the shotgun blasts had torn away the sleeve.

“Damn!” She pivoted and headed back towards the pile of Hellions on the sidewalk, intent on getting the cost of the jacket out of someone’s hide. She paused as her cell phone chimed, then took up the ring she had for friendly calls.

“Gal, Whas’ up?” she spoke into the phone, which looked like a toy in her oversized hands. She had voice dialing, her fingers being too large to press the keys, but the phones kept shrinking. She was considering getting one of those communicators sewn into her next costume, but had to wait for payday.

“Gal, it’s Bubbles,” the voice was not happy, not like Bubbles at all. “I think you need to get here really fast.” The younger girl’s voice was shaking, afraid, “We had to bring her to the loft, they wouldn’t let D’ in at Cygnus and she said she wouldn’t leave Sibling on the doorstep unless they found a doctor that could see her right away so they called the Police Drones and the Security Chief and he said she would only scare the other patients so she couldn’t go in even with her security clearance card then she had to stun a bunch of the police and staff because they were going to take Sibling anyway since she is so sick and D’ tore one of the doors off the hinges out front getting out….”

“Bubbles!” Gal shouted into the phone, knowing that once the girl started rolling she could keep it up. “Did you say Sib is sick?” The black woman was already at a full sprint toward the King’s Row security tunnel.

“Yeah, she said she was fighting Vahz. She called me from an office building across town. I got there just as she was leaving, saying something about the sewers and having to stop Dr. Vahzilok, then she collapsed. I can’t carry her, so I called D’ and we TP-ed to the hospital…” she was getting started again.

“Bubbles, is D’ still there?”

“Yah!” Gal had to keep her down to a few syllables.

“Tell her to TP me there, NOW!” The tanker disappeared in mid-stride.


At this point, the twins, Gal and several other characters will be making life changing decisions. Rather than Hijacking someone else’s thread, we have made the decision to start a thread on it’s own. It appears the Bar will have a new Bouncer/Bartender, we do not force other people’s heroes into situations they don’t ask for. Thank you, all of you, for allowing us to participate and post here. Keep an eye open for “Ladies of the Lake”, with Sibling, Gal ‘O War, Almira and cast as they come.

“Trouble? Girlfriend, I get into trouble crossing the street on the way home.” The tall woman’s smile positively glowed, stretching from ear to ear. Her hug was gentle, for all her size and strength, being careful with the brightly dressed woman. As rough as her demeanor was on the streets or in fights, she was careful and dainty when with friends, a comical juxtaposition.

These two ran the streets regularly, starting together almost from their first security clearance. The defender, slightly shorter than Sibling and a few skin tones lighter, had an apt name: Shock Bubble. It described not only her powers, Force Field Bubbles and protecting others, but also her personality. Being near her was almost like drinking champagne, celebratory with that tickle afterwards.

“I just don’t want you to get into trouble on my account,” the pony-tailed girl looked up and down the bar conspiratorily. “Time is money and all.” She spun the barstool around, spiraling like a little girl on a playground, fast enough that her hair flew out like bright pink helicopter blades.

Gal looked out over the bar, it was a fair night, not too crowded but enough customers to keep the table staff and her plenty busy. All the drinks came through her on her shift, Tony had actually asked her if she wanted to get certified with the city as a liquor officer, taking notice of her no-nonsense, by the book handling of the bar. It would be good for business, he said, and offered to pay for the classes, if Gal would promise to stay for a year. The Bar and Grill was doing well, and he seemed to think she had something to do with it.

“I don think you need to worry about that, girl. In fact, you might be good for business,” Gal was looking over Bubbles shoulder at two heroes coming their way.

“Wha?” Bubbles started.

“Excuse us, but will you settle a bet?” The shorter, battle-suited hero said to Bubbles, coming up on her left. “My partner here,” he motioned to the horned, scaly skinned hero coming on her right, “seems to think he’s seen you before.”

Bubbles turned her stool around to face the two, crossing her legs and batting her long lashes, bright blue lashes. Gal had never asked, but assumed the colors of her hair were natural. Gal did know that her friend was something of a walking, or flying, fashion statement and knew the Icon reps on a first name basis.

“Sure Tin-man, what’s the question?” Gal could almost see the fully armored hero blush through the steel faceplate, she knew Bubbles was also an untamable flirt.

Gal walked back to serve a couple that were seated further down the bar, Bubbles was her friend and sometimes battle partner, but personal issues stayed private between them. Unless, of course, they were bantering during a fight. Few heroes or heroines could keep up with their tongues when they were in high form, and nothing was better than getting tangled up with villains. Only the Hollows seemed to cloud Bubble’s sense of humor, so they avoided it when possible.

Two minutes later, Gal was grabbing a large platter of bar snacks from the kitchen, when she heard her friend’s voice rise.

“Bubble Up, rude guy!” It wasn’t worry in her voice, but the humor that kept Gal from breaking through the wall to come to the defender’s side. There was giggling laughter.

Gal pushed open the swinging doors separating the kitchen from the Bar, and watched as the pink-clad heroine lightly kicked a force bubble, armored hero inside, toward the front door. Her aim was good, and another female hero near the door opened it in time so that the bubble rolled into the street and out of sight towards the City Hall stairs. Bubbles had turned to the other hero,

“Would you like to follow your friend by foot, or by Bubble?” That wicked pink lipstick curled up on her wicked smirk. A sparkling pink hand floated in threat barely an inch from the horned hero’s nose. His eyes crossed, Gal could see him thinking is he was fast enough.

“You ain’t, but I’d be glad to add another horn to mah’ keyring.” Gal stood at the end of the bar, not moving into Bubbles control of the situation, just providing back-up.

“I…I…I think I’ll go catch him.” The hulking figure walked, faster than was comfortable, out the door and sprinted after his still rolling partner.

“That was fun! Is it always like that around here?” Bubbles was playing with one ponytail, reaching for her stylishly color coordinated pink and blue purse. She held something else in the other hand, Gal couldn’t make it out, but moved behind the bar. She walked toward Bubbles, a bowl of pretzels from the tray in her hand.

“Only when you’re around, Sweetness. What was all that?”

“Oh, that,” Bubbles sniffed at the air, and placed a large generic Influence Card on the bar. “The armored one got a little fresh, his friend thought better.” She fished in her purse and pulled out a smaller card, her personal one and not the generic card already there.

“You gonna make me beg, Girl?” Gal put her hands on her hips. “You know I will if ya make me, but only for you.”

Bubbles giggled again, batting her lashes at the dark woman. “That sounds interesting….but not here. I won a costume contest across town a few days ago, he said he thought he recognized me.” She placed one slim, muscled leg full on the bar, “OOOh! That’s where I decided to get these!” She would occasionally lose track of a conversation, but that was just another reason Gal enjoyed her company, she was spontaneous like few others.

Tall, pink, spiked heels with straps mostly up her calves, her newest purchase. Gal wondered how much those had set the young woman back, probably a weeks pay here, which was not a little. What made her friend happy, couldn’t help but make Gal happy, the girl was able to bring light to the caverns under Perez Park.

“Very nice,” she admired the gorgeous leather shoes, “Y’know girl, I’d give a month’s pay for legs like yours, I couldn’ pull those off.” Gal was always conscious of her legs, Sibling argued she had nice legs, she felt her thighs were huge.

“So, whas with the Bubbles?”

“Yeah, so he says he really liked my outfit, voted for it. Then he offered to buy me a drink,” one pink-gloved hand motioned to the large Influence Card. “Then he said something about checking out my other suit.” She winked.

“Your birthday suit?!” Gal almost fell over laughing. Tony and Jackie were in the office, and where the booming would have brought them running a few weeks ago, the sound meant everything was good outside. A few patrons did look around at the huge woman behind the bar, but the regulars knew the joke would get around.

“Babe, you are classic!” Gal wiped her eyes with a towel, reaching out to tousle the pink hair, a gesture of affection and friendship.

“So, since they wanted to pay, bring me a big glass! Anyone else want one?” Her voice carried across the general din of the evening crowd. The consensus was ‘Yes’.

The card would easily cover the entire tab, and the pink drink looked to be a favorite among the younger, hipper crowd. Before the evening wound down, Gal had called Sibling at her club, making sure that inviting the defender to breakfast was good for them. Sibling was all laughter at the story, she enjoyed the woman’s company as well.

Gal grabbed a few dozen eggs and several slabs of bacon, leaving the money for them in the till, as she always did. Luckily, this morning, there wasn’t any trouble between the Bar and her home in King’s Row, Bubbles giving everyone along the way Insulating Spheres. Never a dull moment for a hero.

All heroes/heroines: It seems that Tony's bar has gotten lots of views, but I may be the only one posting. I didn't start the thread, and don't want to appear to hijack it. I do like the story line (well, I developed part of it) but don't want to bore you all with my insipid drivel, unless you enjoy it as well. So, I will be making one more post, to introduce a few characters from friends, and unless someone else posts, or responds to this post that they want it to continue, I'll have to assume it stinks. Not the thread, but my writing, and let it go to better authors.
Sibling

A week with no major destruction, no destroyed walls or blast broken windows. The antique wooden bar was still in fine shape, Gal just finishing the polish on the waitress station guards. As she could see herself in the heavy brass rails, she screwed the bottle-top back on and threw the rag into a hamper behind the bar.

The bar closed at 2AM, but clean up and shutting down was usually until about 4. Jackie and Tony were taking shifts, and only saw each other for a few hours a day form what Gal could tell. It worked out well for her and Sibling, they both had night shifts that had similar hours. Sibling had a 6 hour shift, not far from their loft in King's Row, and Gal was working nine hours. The money was very welcome, and Gal felt like she was finally doing her part in the relationship.

The swinging door to the hitchens opened and Jackie's head came out. She saw Gal placing some of the near empty bottles of liquor in a return's case, where the distributor could credit them, and replacing the shelf stock with full bottles.

*Another advantage of having the girl*, she thought, *we don't need steps or ladders for the top shelves!*

"Gal," the tall woman turned, "can you come into the office for a minute?"

Gal followed Jackie into the office in the rear of the kitchens. It was small, and packed with paperwork, a small wooden desk and various office equipment. The largest object in the room was a Crey 2100 Max security safe, and Gal knew it was a good one, she had helped Sweet Thang move it in earlier this week and her back was still sore. Jackie grabbed a stack of computer print outs and looked through them.

"Gal, it looks like there is something wrong with the bar receipts." A stern look crossed the older woman's face. Gal's face went very pale and a cold feeling moved up from her stomach.

"Ma'am?" She was completely confused. Jackie always counted the days receipts, but had never said anything like this until now. The only three who could access the register were the two owners and Gal. Was she being accused of stealing?

"Yes, Gal," Jackie turned her back to the tall woman and walked to the safe in the corner. "The receipts don't add up." She placed one palm on the safe door, which was quickly scanned for print and DNA. The door made a soft click sound and silently swung open.

"It seems that we have more money in the till than we should." She reached into the open safe, taking out an envelope and a piece of heavy paper.

"Ma'am, I wouldn't steal. Not from anyone." Gal's mind was racing, could she have made a mistake with the pricing, or an order?

Jackie turned back, a smile on her slightly wrinkled face. She showed her years, but not in her smile. Her hand held out the envelope and the check.

"It's payday, lass. There's your first check, and a bonus from Tony and me." It was another minute until Gal's face went from worried to understanding. Then her frown swept up into a grin, and she held out her hand for the check but not the envelope.

"I don' take charity, ma'am, you know that." It was true, and it had bothered Jackie for the first couple days. Gal would pay the discounted food price on her shift, but when she came for breakfast or brought Sibling in, she would not allow the discount, and would simply leave the right amount if the bill was low.

"Nonsense, dear," Jackie pressed the thick envelope into her jacket pocket. "Tony and I figure you've saved us more in broken furniture and stopping fights than this. And the bar till is always a few over, still don't know how that happens, but Tony knows it's on your shift."

"Take it, Gal." She held the money in the much larger woman's pocket, as Gal tried to take it back out, protesting. "You are better than we had hoped. If you don't take it, it will insult us."

That was the key, telling Gal she would insult someone would get her to stop, unless they deserved it. She quit trying to remove the money.

"Thank you, ma'am." She truly meant it.

The young heroes milled about, there weren’t enough chairs or booth space for the entire mob that Sibling had brought with her. The young female body was slight, but the twins could command attention when necessary. Gal was always proud to see that her partner could take control of a situation, and it amazed her that Sibling needed no strength or size to gather that control.

Sibling had explained what was told to her by Almira earlier. There was a battle in Perez Park, some humanoid monster that was out of control. Very powerful heroes were being beaten into the pavement, and Gal could see the doubts in many faces that this group of low Security Level heroes could be of any help. Sibling summed it up:

“You are young, but you have taken an oath. The same oath that Statesman and Ms. Liberty swore, the same that Atlas, Titan and all heroes have ascribed to, to defend those who cannot defend themselves.” The slight woman spun a story, wrapped the audience in her passion. “The most powerful of us can be defeated alone, but together, even the slightest of us can withstand great dangers. We may be needed now.”

Sibling stopped, turning to a quiet doorway at the end of the Diner where nothing seemed to be. Gal turned as well, she could feel the approach of the Mistress, years of being trained by the Ladies tuned one to the aura that surrounded them. The assembled heroes and heroines looked around, some shifting in place. One or two drank or finished the food they had ordered during the wait since arriving an hour or more ago.

Finally, a stiff wind blew the glass and wood door open, but not against it’s hinges. The door opened like someone was holding it, then closed again, but the cool air did not cease. Slowly, the figure of a small and cloaked figure formed in the center of the floor, and Almira became solid.

Gal and Sibling quickly bowed their heads, placing their right hands upon their brows.

“Lady,” they said almost as one. The figure in the cloak walked first to Sibling, cupping her chin and raising her head, then walked to Gal and did the same, having to reach up to touch the dark-skinned woman’s chin, even with head bowed.

“Who’s this?” One of the heavily armored heroes that had several bottles before him on the table asked, pointing and letting out a snort. “Don’t look like Liberty to me.”

Gal could move very fast when she needed to, she actually beat Sibling to the speaker’s table even with twenty feet further to go. Her skin was covered in stone, one massive rock hand snatching the good-sized man in armor from his seat, her other arm pulled back for a powerful punch.

“How DARE you!” Her voice could be heard down the block, and the bar went very quiet. Tony and Jackie both came running from the Grill, sliding to a stop as other heroes came to their feet. Swords were drawn, large firearms unslung, general confusion and chaos looked imminent.

“Daughter, Sister,” Sibling was at Gal’s side, moving into the rocky tanker’s vision, holding up one hand. “No offense is taken. This is not the Island, he did not intend insult. Release him and be calm.” It was the young woman’s voice, but not her manner, and not her words. Regardless, Gal released the hero, who’s pants would need to be changed from the look. He landed with a somewhat graceless thump, Gal returned to her normal chocolate-brown color and skin, taking a step away from her young partner.

“You heroes, I am Almira,” Sibling’s voice was steady, but the rest of her body stood unmoving, almost vacant looking. The cloaked woman moved to the center of the group, her face completely hidden, motioning with her hands. “I speak through my children, Sibling. This body,” the cloaked figure motioning to itself, “cannot speak, but I carry news from the fight that you must hear.”

Some heroes had seen stranger things, some were very disturbed by the sight. Weapons were sheathed and hidden, regardless of the sight, the feeling was that power was among them. The light green cloak floated on a breeze they could not feel, the smell of licorice and fresh bread spread around the room. This was a quiet power, one of the most powerful types.

“A creature, full of rage and destruction, has been loosed in Perez Park, and now moves into Atlas City.” Heroes muttered and looked quickly among themselves. “This is not your fight, the heroes and creature are being used as pawns of greater powers. This battle will end badly, no matter the forces involved. Heroes will die, and be brought to life, as long as their gods need to have their sport.”

The muttering gathered, a general question of “What gods? What heroes?”

The cloaked figure held up a hand, asking for attention. “Petty gods, heroes that will not be affected in the end, other than having to experience control by an angry outside force. Should you go to fight, the same will happen to you. This too shall pass, and leave all that happens nothing but fading memories.” Almira stepped to Sibling, placing a hand upon the young woman’s shoulder. Sibling straightened to her full height.

“Do not fight this war. I ask that you not indulge these petty creatures, but the choice, as always, is yours.” Almira turned to face Tony and his wife, Sibling did not. “I apologize for once again bringing trouble to your place. It seems that The Goddess wills that this place will be a gathering point for such events. You have my thanks.”

Sibling shuddered as the Lady removed her hand, Gal supported her partner, instinctively. They knew that when one of the Mistresses wished to speak, some were used and others were not. It had been this way since the pair had started training. Sibling, actually two minds in the one body, was an excellent Focus for the Mistress.

“You have heard the Mistress,” Cliff spoke, deep and resonant, as Angela still reeled from the contact. It always shook a Focus when the powerful mind withdrew, but was not painful and considered an honor. “The danger is passed, the meeting does not need to be. Groups of heroes of all levels are always needed.”

Almira moved to the owners, placing her hands inside her cloak’s sleeves. Touching was a very personal thing for mentalists, placing hands away from sight avoided the issue of shaking hands or other contact. She stopped a few feet from the woman, and an unseen smile crossed her lips. A gesture and Tony’s indigestion disappeared, the pain in his left knee with it. Jackie felt the stress of the day lift, her headache passed. Then the cloaked woman was gone, leaving them both wondering at what happened.

Almira emerged from the underground network, somewhere near an abandoned warehouse in Skyway. She was tired, but unscathed by the trip, maintaining her phase shift and using invisibility when possible.

She had seen the goings on, and understood what was afoot. Skipping from bridge to bridge, she used speed and stealth to reach the tram line, then on to Atlas and those that would listen to her words.

The gods were playing games, using beings that had neither morals or care. There would be no winners, or losers, simply a story that would go on and on, one invincible force versus the other.

Her destination was a small bar just across from Atlas City Hall.

Sibling led the few heroes she had found that could not teleport to the alley behind the Bar. The group had grown since she had begun, arresting scores of villains and allowing heroes to complete missions or return to their contacts. The agreement for the aid had been simply coming to this gathering and listening to the information. Many would not understand how the message had been passed to Sibling, so she made no mention of it.

The phone she carried was web enabled, so the twins could follow the constant news update from Channel 5. From the sounds and images, things were not going well in Perez Park. The massive blast doors had been closed some time ago, and reports indicated all the safety shields to all other parts of the city were likewise in place. What was in could not leave, what was out could not enter. At least as long as the doors held, and Sibling knew of only one other time the seals had failed...Rikti.

The small woman looked around her, most of these heroes were young, several below Clearance 30. That was fine she reasoned, even Atlas and Titan had started somewhere. It was rare that the Mistress would call upon her, or even become involved in the affairs of the city, unless there was grave trouble. She saw the Lady Almira often, as was the custom, but tasks that would bring her into the city meant elemental evil.

"Wait here, please," Angela spoke to the group. She knew some were already inside, but this number would strain the bar and just bundling in would be rude. "I will be back in a moment." She pressed an emblem on her chest, which could have been a request to the heroes, and dipped her head.

********

Gal felt the tattoo on her shoulder, just below her collarbone, tingle. Instinct and heavy training caused her to call the teleport into a space behind her, as she would do in a fight, where Sibling would be safe. A flash and the small woman was there, Gal turning in concern to see what was happening.

"No fear," Sibling held up her hand, "It would be good if we spoke to the owners. There are 37 heroes in the alley behind the bar. They came for the briefing." Sibling looked around to see most of the place deserted, others obviously forming up at the battered security doors in the distance.

She nodded in the direction of the heroes she had called on her way here, seated around a few tables toward the back. Gal disappeared into the kitchen, and brought Tony back with a spatula still in his hand.

"Sir," Cliff addressed the man, unsettling him. "You are aware of the events at the gate?" The large man nodded. "Do you know the cause, or what happens now?"

"See what's on the Tellie, that's it." Tony's eyes narrowed, "You were in here with Gal, that right?" He looked between the two unlikely team mates, one slight and barely to his chest, the other towering over him.

"Tony," Gal broke in, "This is my partner. Sibling. They've brought some heroes in case things go bad." She saw the puzzled look on the owner's face. "They, Sibling is twins. Not time to explain, it's Cliff and Angela." She swept an arm around the smaller figure of her friend.

"Yeah," Tony was sure this was a story that would take several beers to finish. "uh-huh."

"Sir," Sibling addressed him again, in a female voice, adding to his confusion. "May we bring the rest in? A meeting is needed."

"If Gal says it's OK, I suppose it is." Jackie was rounding the corner, again looking for her disappeared husband. "Jackie, Love," he motioned for his wife to come behind the bar, "This is Gal's friend, Sibling?"

"Yes, we have met," Jackie took the offered hand. Sibling bowed slightly, touching her forehead the way Gal did.

Heroes began to file into the bar from the front doors and back. Some curious, some confused. The news that awaited them would bring some measure of note to the Bar in the future, and assure it's financial success. This would a meeting of future Super-Heroes, names that would be placed on monuments and buildings, some in success, some in memoriam.

Pieces of torn paper, trash and swirls of dust congregated in the corners of the security zone entrance. The door that faced Perez Park was shattered, torn loose at the base where the beast had broken through. Two trails of blood, marked by the creature's steps, led to where it was now grasping a Cyborg and facing another hero.

She could sense the mechanical hero moving this direction through the trees, and several others still in the Park. Some were coming this way, some making for the other exits, hopefully to help mount a defense in other parts of Paragon. The swirling debris passed through her legs and body, only the faintest outline of her cloak could be seen, phase shifted as she was.

Almira kept her gaze averted from the monsters face. One of the Mistresses from years past had told her that gazing into an animals face could allow the animal to feel your presence, and avoiding this beast was her goal. While shifted, she was invulnerable to any force she had yet encountered, but there were always the forces you did not know that had to be considered. A thousand years was still a speck in time, and she learned new things every day.

She felt the suffering from the heroes near the beast, even the bravest could feel pain. With the massive doors closed, she knew that the closest Medical Transporters could not retrieve the fallen, they would lie where scattered. She could resurrect them, but that would also show her presence, and she could not stand against a blow that had levelled the tanks and scrappers.

Her "daughters" would be rallying the forces they could find, centering on Tony's Bar and Grill. Sibling had been found in the loft, and the ancient woman's instructions were explicit: travel by foot from Kings Row to Atlas, gathering any hero or heroine that would come. Should the battle go poorly, harm could not befall City Hall, most especially not the MAGI vaults, where the last possible solution could be used. The last, desperate solution.

Perhaps the twins would find the Diva, Bubbles, or more. From what she saw here, it would take many, and the youngest would not be able to slow the villain long.

Always one near the back of the fight, defenders were the soul of heated battle. Unsung, and often all but invisible, they could turn the tide of battle, but only by keeping the heroes strong and healthy and the villains weakened. Even the Great Old Ones, many times as powerful and old as Almira, could not stand and battle their villainous peers, that was not their place. Their place was clearing the spells of foes, healing the injured heroes and removing unfair advantage from opposing forces.

She moved in silence out of the alcove and into the street, skirting the bodies of Hellions and Bones that had come between the monster and the gate. Several hundred yards further, near the entrance to Skyway City, where she could confirm that the gates there were also shut, she became in phase again and faced the Atlas gate far away. Her left hand began to glow green, the most powerful healing spell she knew pulsing there. The stone wall blurred on her side, superspeed travel gathering, the gate and battle rushed toward her.

The healing aura loosed just as she passed the flagging heroes, already wasting away before the force of the un-named foe. She knew it would give them a momentary respite, but only so much, there was nothing more she could do without endangering herself and her cause.

Her pause was incredibly fast, the bolt flew to the heroes, and she was again phase shifted and running for all her might toward the Skyway exit again. The entrance to the underground tunnels would be her only haven, all the gates were closed. She knew of a way to Steel Canyon, but the trip was long and filled with evil still. News would have to be carried, and she appeared to be the only one.

Gal caught sight of the "Special report" banner scrolling along the bottom of the TV screen. She couldn't make out what the reporter was saying, too much noise between her and the set, but the pictures were of Perez Park, and it didn't look like the opening of a new playground.

There were other customers, and with her first night on the job, she couldn't afford to be distracted. Before the story had even closed, several heroes were calling for their tabs, getting up quickly. Some just threw a few of the Pre-paid Influence cards down and rushed out the door. Something was up.

Tony was running by the door to the kitchen, several plates and glasses balancing precariously on his arm. He didn't seem too worried, but she saw through the doorway that there was an exodus of patrons from the Diner as well. Not everyone, but many of the caped, eye-glowing types.

Gal had a glass of rum and a beer going for one of the heroes when she felt a prickling on her scalp. The tiara she wore, covered under her afro, was pulsing and becoming warm. The tall woman had to grab at the bar for support, barely managing to set the tumbler down before dropping it. Her head swam for a moment, and the air went cold.

"Daughter," a soft voice came from her right. The entire bar seemed to have stopped, no other sounds, no movement, time was frozen. Gal turned to look in the direction of the very familiar voice.

"Lady," she bowed and touched her forehead, a show of the deep respect she had for the much smaller woman. The figure was the same as when Tony had seen her outside the Diner: flowing cloak and cowl, face in shadow, some breeze unfelt rippling the sparkling material. "How may I serve?"

Gal did not raise her eyes or come up from the bow until the woman had laid a gentle hand on her head. Cupping Gal's ear and cheek, she bade the black woman straighten up. A hand wrinkled, with skin like parchment paper, brushed Gal's face, much the same as a loving mother or aunt would to a child.

"You must stay here, and not leave this place." The lady's voice was not heard. Like when Sibling would talk to her privately, Gal heard the voice in her head. It would soothe even the worst hurts, calm the strongest fear.

"There is trouble in the City, but it is one you shall not face. Not yet." Gal looked into the woman's hooded face. "Already several have fallen, and more shall come. Sibling comes to this place by the back ways, gathering those that she can."

The hooded woman, Almira she had told Tony, reached out to touch a tiny droplet of beer that hung in space below the tap. She pressed against the drop and it fell, at normal speed, into the still tipped glass, also frozen in space. Time was not still, but much slowed, such that this presence would not even be noticed but by a few heroes.

"I must go, there is evil to prevent." Gal still stood transfixed, waiting for the Lady to give her leave. "Gather those that are young, those that are new to being Heroes, here. Should things go badly, they will be needed. Even the ant can topple the mighty tower, working with it's friends."

The din of the bar was returned, the TV back on about some reality show. The beer glass stood on the counter, full. Tony was on his way back the way he had come, obviously none the wiser. The only evidence that anything had happened was a scent of fresh baked bread and licorice, which one of the patrons obviously thought was Gal's perfume.

"Yes, Lady," Gal said to the air, touching her forehead again, and looking at a clock. She hoped Sibling wouldn't take long.

Flash: Two jiggers of vodka and one of Absynthe, mixed with orange juice. Tall glass, slid down the bar.
Shadowcat: half a glass of milk mixed with Kahlua and a dash of Morgan’s Rum.
DocDoom: crystal glass half full of Jaegermeister, dash of hot sauce and brandy, on fire.

Gal felt pretty good about the try out. She had only missed two drinks, and she’s never heard of a “Tom Collins” or “Harvey Wallbanger” before. She had assured Jackie she could learn, and made them both correctly on the second try, after a little lesson from the harried woman.

Jackie had been rather surprised at the change in clothing, at least from what she remembered of the woman’s attire the day before. Now, Gal stood at the bar wearing a longer skirt, still rather short but with legs that could pull it off, a leather jerkin affair with a few buckles under the arms and a soft collar. She obviously favored dark colors, but the forest green jerkin and burgundy skirt went well with her dark complexion. The most surprising thing was the blinding smile the tall woman could flash, and her wicked sense of humor.

Being able to open bottles with her thumb was only an added bonus. She was amazing with her skills behind the bar, entertaining while also doing the job. It wasn’t often someone would see a woman, almost eight feet tall, that could juggle beer bottles with one hand and pour a decent shot of whiskey with the other. How she could be so precise, and so strong, Jackie didn’t know.

“Jackie,” Tony’s voice drew his wife’s attention from Gal and her curious ability to flip the tiny sword shaped toothpicks into olives from several feet away.

“Yes, Love? Back here, in the store-room with the applicant for the bartender’s job.” Jackie poked her head out of the room and caught sight of her husband.

“Applicant? She still here?” Tony steered over to the side, peeking into the back room where they had set up a mock bar (made of boxes and crates) for the applications. “Got a perfect test,” he could see a way of getting a little free labor, getting a moment to hit the toilet and maybe finding their new employee.

“Yes,” Jackie waved to Gal, motioning her to the door and moving aside for the much larger lady.

“By Amethyst!” Tony exclaimed as he caught sight of Gal coming out of the room. “You’re a big one!”

“Tony! Is that any way to talk?” Jackie squeezed by Gal, hands on hips and glaring at her husband. “She’s the new bartender, and she can throw you out if you get too cheeky!” The decision was made, right there, woman sticking up for woman, and Tony knew better than to cross his wife. The couch was not that comfortable, especially not for a man of his size.
“Yes, dear,” Tony ducked his head and held out a hand for Gal. “Welcome to Tony’s. Don’t know if Jackie has told you about the benefits and pay, but if you want to start right away, get out there. Got orders already waiting.”

Not being one to stand, or sit, by, Gal grabbed a bar towel from the fresh laundry box near the door and pulled her sleeves up over substantial forearms, rolling them to keep them in place. She shook Tony’s hand vigorously, but carefully enough not to dislocate his shoulder, she was used to dealing with more fragile people.

“Here’s my Register Card, use it to access the bar machine.” Tony was already turning to lead Gal to the main Bar. “We’ll get you one as soon as we can, and get all your paperwork later. Lady in Gold with purple hair, there,” He pointed out the red skinned woman that had just started on her tumbler of scotch, “wants a bottle of Scotch. The lady down there,“ he pointed to a woman that was looking very impatient, glancing side to side, “wants a beer. We’re working on her food order.”

Tony stopped, making a little noise in his throat as Gal passed him, heading to the bar. “I suppose you can handle drunks and belligerent customers? And, sorry to ask, but did my wife see your ID?”

Gal pulled out her Security Card, and handed it to Tony. It was also attached to her keyring, which sported several small, intricate keys, a magnetic pass card and a piece of horn. Tony eyed the photo, which obviously was this woman, and looked up into her eyes, a silent question.

“Hellions arrest,” she said as quietly as her voice would allow, “broke off during the struggle, figured it was a gift.” That flash of ivory in the ebony face and a sparkle in her dark eyes. Tony nodded and handed the card back, she had answered all his questions at once.

“Sorry about the wait, ma’am. Had to put in a delivery,” a little stretch of the truth that would cover the long wait. “What sort of drink can I get ya? We have the finest tap beer in the city, least this side of Talos Brewery’s Taproom.” Gal gently laid a coaster on the polished wood bar and pulled a menu from under it. Etiquette was that a good bartender never gets too close to the patron and never tries to guess the drink.

“You’ve been here an awful long time,” Gal had bussed before, and took a chance, hoping to make the customer happy after the delay. “Would ya accept an Atlas IPA on the house?”

While she was drawing the beer into one of Tony’s tall glasses, Gal addressed the red-skinned woman further along the bar. “An you Miss? Did you want a bottle of Scotch? We have a couple good ones from across the water,” she glanced up the rather impressive shelves of hard liquors behind the bar, tipping the glass so the head of beer just crested the glass. “I prefer the Green 18 year-old Glenfiddich Cask Single Malt myself.”

Gal carried the tall glass of beer, a small head just peeking over the rim, back to the woman and placed it lightly on the coaster. Sloshing beer over a glass or on the counter was a pet peeve, and she never did it. Touching her forehead in a gesture of service, she turned and headed back to the horned woman.

“What can I get ya?” It would be a good first night.

"Thank you ma'am, you won't be sorry!" Sibling knew they needed a new phone from the sound the handset made as Gal slammed it down into the cradle. Sibling was the more reserved of the pair, age or not. At almost 26, Gal 'O War still acted like a teenager at time.

That included the way she was now prancing around the loft, hugging Sibling and twirling. She also moved fairly well for her size.

"She said I could try out!" Spin, spin, small leap. The loft was chosen partially due to Gal's height, the 12 foot ceilings generally avoided damage, and the I-Beam supported floors only boomed with her steps.

Gal's eyes were sparkling, it was very upsetting that Sibling had been the only one with a steady job since they met. It wasn't from lack of trying, Gal just had a....forceful, manner. She was too self-conscious about her weight and size to dance at the club like Sibling did, and she had no secret identity to protect either, her size prevented that from being easy.

"Well, Love," the smaller woman said, "We guess that means you need something a little more conservative," a dour expression that did not touch the slight woman's eyes sat on her lips, "and less provocative."

Gal stopped spinning and looked straight at Sibling, only then could she tell it was a joke. "You sounded jealous!" Sibling barely dodged a pillow from the couch, and did not try to dodge the woman's outstretched arm. "You know better'n that!"

"Yes, we do. Still, you should look more like a bartender and less like a bulldozer for the interview." Sibling was trying hard not to laugh as the hulking tanker gently ruffled her bangs. "We think the Positron Mall is still open over in Steel, can we take you shopping?"

"Sure, then we celebrate!" Dinner was going to be spectacular, Gal was the cook, and she had some truffles and Gnocchi stashed away. It was the twin's favorite. "And I need to study up on the drink mixes, it's been a while since I bussed in Talos." She wouldn't study too late, Sibling deserved a little attention, too. No, more than that, her always there, always loyal companion deserved a lot of attention.

*Well*, thought Jackie, *as an opening day, it could be considered a success.* She surveyed the Diner, the general disarray of furniture, destroyed fixtures, stacks of plates and almost empty coolers. *Or a disaster.*

There were still a few patrons in the Diner, but this late in the day, the bar was far more crowded. Tony was politely asking the myriad heroes, and heroines, present in all their gaudy splendor, for ID before they could enter the bar. That was all he could do, some of the underaged could level the building if inclined. Luckily, some of the older, more seasoned, heroes were helping to keep the peace. Two noticeable presences, Phayzed and Sweet Thang, did a good job of keeping the cocky young ones in line. Sweet Thang, for all his immense size, was well spoken and gentle (besides being almost indestructible), and Phayzed could send any rowdies out in a cocoon of force to cool off.

The Help Wanted sign still hung in the window, and Tony was filling in as Bartender, but 20 hour shifts would not work out. Not only that, but she couldn't ask the two heroes playing bouncers to come every night, there was evil to fight.

Jackie was just finishing the last load of pie plates, (how could such fit people eat so much pie?!) and was wiping her hands on one of the towels behind the counter when the phone rang. It was only because the music in the bar had hit a pause between songs and the crowd had hit a lull in the boisterous conversation that she heard it.

"Tony's Bar and Grill," she said into the mouthpiece, covering one ear to hear the voice at the other end. "Before you ask, we do NOT deliver."

"No ma'am, not lookin' for delivery." There was pause, the caller sounded nervous, but the voice carried well, Jackie had to remove her ear from the receiver or suffer hearing damage.

"Um, we were in there earlier this morning," again a pause, the deep voice seemed to be building to something, "I saw a sign in th' window, th' unbroken one, I mean."

Jackie knew the voice, but the day had been so hectic, she had no idea who belonged to it. There were things to do, and she needed to get on with them. "Can we help you? It's really busy, I'm sorry but..." The other voice came in quickly.

"Are you still looking for a bartender? I'd really like the job, and I can work hard." The voice on the other end of the line hung, obviously very earnest.

"Well, sir," Jackie suddenly had time to talk, if this worked out, it meant she would have time to breathe in the future. " I certainly won't make a decision over the phone. Did you say you were here earlier? Did you inquire about the job then?" She was thinking that with all that happened, maybe Tony had spoken to her, but forgotten in the melee.

"Um, not sir, ma'am," the very embarrassed sounding voice said, "I'm a woman. You served my friend and I breakfast. I'm tall and wore a black jacket, short skirt..."

"The table, you're the lady who broke the table..." Now the idea of a woman bartender didn't seem so ridiculous. At first, Jackie had been about to just dismiss it, few women could handle a bar full of half-drunken brawlers. If her memory served correctly, this one might.

"I don't know, the bar is going to be pretty active," she meant something else, but saying aloud that they were a bunch of super-powered hooligans might be less than wise. "It is something for Mr. Phayzed and Mr. Thang to handle at the moment."

"Sweet?" The basso female voice replied quickly, "Is he there?"

"Yes, he's about all that's keeping a group of scrappers from working over a pair of blasters right now." The owner's wife was looking around the bar entrance, where Sweet Thang was indeed handling three scrappers, "escorting" them to the door.

"Well, Hell! I mean, Heck!" Gal's voice quickly corrected, "I arm wrestle Sweet."

Now Jackie's eyes ballooned...

"Can I at least get an interview?" Gal, across the city, crossed her fingers. Even Sibling had rarely seen her friend so excited, or so worried.

[ QUOTE ]
"Anyway, it's not like we lost them, anyway." Mr. Knives said, pointing to the adress on the table. "They simply chose another location to die."
Mr. Knives smiled at Mr. Pain, and Mr. Pain returned his smile. They then quickly left for King's Row.

[/ QUOTE ]

The noise in the Diner had quieted some, opening rush, Tony hoped. Already, a good portion of his establishment stood in disarray: Tables broken, window shattered, floor splintered in places and piles of dirty dishes from only a few heroes. He shook his head, and his wife thought the Rikti Invasion was bad...

A cool wind brought his attention to the shattered window. Though there were several patrons between him and the front, none seemed to notice, and he saw none of the menus or napkins were disturbed by the breeze. Unsure what this was about, he walked to the door and opened it, catching sight of an older woman in a light blue cloak, just outside.

He held the door open when she stared at him, but the cloaked head shook side to side. One arm rose from her side, and held out a fair sized stack of Influence Notes. He didn't understand, staring from the Notes to her lined, but unworried, face. What did the woman want?

The woman's other arm rose, tracing a figure in the air. To Tony's surprise, a screen, like an info booth, appeared and hovered in the air before the business owner. Type began to appear, one complete word at a time.

*My friends* the images of a young lady clad in a grey unitard and a large dark-skinned woman in a flak jacket, *Sibling and Gal 'O War, have been here.* Tony nodded unconsciously, not looking directly at the woman. That was fair, her face was hidden beneath the cowl.

*There was some loss of property, not solely by their hand or deed, but loss. Innocents shall not bear such so long as there are old ones to protect them, too many have been lost in the past. One innocent is worth more than any ten heroes, we had so hoped time would bring knowledge to them.* Tony stood transfixed by the screen, impossible as it was, he could hear the sorrow from the woman in these typed words.

Again she held out the Notes, and placed the stack in his numb hand. Pulling the arm back, she made another glyph in the air, and the window shards flew back into place. The frame was whole again, the window better than new and sparkling clean. Jackie, inside and unaware of the goings on, gasped as the piece of table Gal had broken away disappeared from the counter, and reattached itself to the table, no seam or scar left.

The aged woman's mouth curved up slightly in a smile, devoid of humor, but motherly. *There are those who would deceive you,* the screen glowed, *In your place of business even now, evil makes it's plans, does it's work. I may not interfere, except where my children are concerned. This place will be a gathering spot for heroes, and innocents alike. Many will praise you, some will not, but none shall bring you harm, so long as the Mother Stone stands.* A long tendril of green light struck out from behind the cowl, catching Tony full in the chest.

For a moment he felt nothing, then a lightening, like floating. Then it was gone, and he was standing once again, facing a woman who looked old, but seemed much older, in a flowing cloak that rippled in an unfelt wind.

*In the days that come, when darkness may come into your shop, fear not. Call only my name, Almira, and help shall come. These,* the images of several suited individuals, including one small woman now inside, *are those you should know. They serve an evil ancient by your standards, but hardly weaned by mine.*

Jackie was starting to wonder where her husband was off to, the place was almost full and she was running to take orders. A glance to the front and she saw him, standing outside the front door, looking down the street, at what she could not tell. She made for the door to give him a piece of her mind at being left with little staff and hungry heroes everywhere.

*I must go now, there are those who need me.* The screen, the lady were gone. The Influence was still heavy in his hand.

"Tony! Get your butt in here!" The door swung open almost hard enough to tear the hinges loose.

He shook his head, almost unsure if the whole experience had happened. He could still remember the lady, the window and the Notes in his hand, but it had a dreamy quality....

Several hundred feet above, the woman in the cloak hovered, then turned and picked up speed. The flapping of her cloak did not stop or increase, indeed, the wind that fluttered it was not felt here. Moving at a speed that could almost pace Statesman himself, she was off towards Kings Row, a small office on the top floor of a large building. There were two individuals she would need to visit, both male, both many lives older than was human.

*I saw this seed placed into the ground. Saw it watered with the blood of innocents. Saw it pruned by the hands of Malice and tended by the Envoy himself. The time comes nigh for the tree, and all it's fruit, to be harvested and burned on the bier of The Goddess.*

[ QUOTE ]
"Hello there, ladies!" Mr. Knives smiled at Sibling and Gal O' War, Mr. Pain right behind him. "Hope you don't mind if we get acquainted!" The two Heroes sat themselves down at their table.


[/ QUOTE ]

"They're are going to come over here, Gal." The young girl's voice was concealed laughter, "Be nice!"

As the older gentleman seated himself next to Sibling, the immense man tried to squeeze in next to Gal. If was humorous more for the fact that small table was already crammed from her size, this man dwarfed her, he got about one half of one leg under the table, balancing awkwardly near the edge.

"If you're bein' friendly, you can pay the tab, handsome," the black woman said to her new seat mate, not budging to make more room. She batted long, dark lashes at him. Sibling snickered into a napkin and reached across the table to take Gal's resting hand.

"If you are looking for tail, so are we." A great, blindingly white smile broke across her face. "If you get my drift. Sib and I, we're married, see."

The smile was not warm, but was certainly satisfied as the two men turned to look at each other, a certain puzzlement in their faces. When they looked back to where the ladies had been, there was only a business card and the bill. The face of the card said: "Hero Psychiatric Services" and had an address in Kings Row. The back had a note, written in perfect calligraphy script: "Careful what you wish for, you might get it."

[ QUOTE ]
"No..." He thought, looking at Sibling. His eyes shifted to Gal O' War. "No..."


[/ QUOTE ]
Sibling blanched for a moment, but did not allow her movements to betray the fact that she noticed an evil in the room. Cliff motioned with the body, while Angela sought with the mind. The dark one, the smug one.

"Gal, let's get back to breakfast," Cliff's baritone rumbled. Their body turned back to the booth, and Gal followed, all the while Angela paid close attention to the Dark One. There was a ***** in this one's armor, immortal or not, but telling Gal would have to wait until later, and much further away.

Sibling stepped between the one called Tic-Tock and her partner.

"It appears we owe you an apology, sir." She held out a hand palm up, still speaking in the plural. "We meant no harm, and neither did Gal." The icy stare cast back would have frozen the towering woman, as it was, she looked sheepishly at the floor.

"Discrimination is something I believe we have all felt," the young woman's voice changed several octaves and accent, "at one time or other."

"Yeah," came her partner's voice, "Can you forgive?" There was real apology in Gal 'O War's voice, and that was rare indeed.

[ QUOTE ]
"No, the ladies. I'll bet that tall dark one would give you a run for your money, eh? Would you like me to, you know, liase a bit?" Fletcher was now looking directly at Shaw. "Is that a yes, sir?"


[/ QUOTE ]

“Someone’s interested in you…” Sibling whispered across the table. The young woman’s back was to the main portion of the Diner, but she didn’t always need her eyes to see. Gal noticed the vacant expression her friend had, the same expression that she had when using some of her powers. “Sitting across from a soldier, the other has a laptop computer, cigar…”

Sibling could see through the other’s eyes, but could not make out Shaw’s own features. That’s how she would describe the scene when the two women were hunting, from the target’s eyes. It had many advantages to simply barreling around a corner or popping out of an elevator.

“Don’t care none about that, Damn Clock just walked in.” Gal’s eyes narrowed, staring hard at the new patron. “Not the steam one, he ain’t Clock.” She moved slowly toward the edge of the bench, skin already making a grinding sound as it changed into stone.

Sibling broke contact with the soldier, Shaw, and cast for another mind. There were two AI in the room, their mental signature impossible to mask, but neither was Clockwork. They had fought enough of those monsters, the mental signature could not be mistaken.

“Wait.” The male voice came, impossibly, from the small woman’s throat. Almost as deep as Gal ‘O War’s own, but accented from a different part of the country. Gal did stop moving, Cliff was not the one who usually controlled the body, and if he spoke, it meant Angela was otherwise occupied.

“He isn’t Clockwork either, or if he is, he is not under the Hive Mind. That one is a free agent.” Sibling’s eyes were completely white, both hands spread out before her. Gal was watching the mechanical being as a lightning ball formed in it’s outstretched hand, that was the last straw, and Gal didn’t have the mental reassurance Sibling did.

Fast, very fast for such a large frame, Gal slid out of the booth on her side, wrapped one immense arm about Sibling, and engulfed the diminutive girl in a bear hug, forming a shield between her partner and the apparently renegade Clockwork. The dark woman’s skin hardened even further as she pulled extra power and strength from the foundations of the building.

The commotion caused several patrons to turn in their chairs. It appeared that a stone had suddenly appeared next to the booth, but a moment later the stone was moving, staying between the mechanical man and Sibling.

“Stop it!” Sibling’s muffled, female voice, sounded from behind the stone armored woman. “He’s not a Clock. Calm down for the Goddess’ sake!” One small hand grasped at the stony bicep, like a child holding onto a rolling boulder and expecting it to stop by sheer force of will.

Several of the other heroes had risen, some looking towards the door, some began to have sparkling, crackling or smoking auras form around them and their tables. One particular visitor was standing, apparently at ease, leaning on a cane. That one bore watching, Gal decided in an unconscious, battle-hardened portion of her mind.

The mechanical man was standing, and the steam powered one had moved closer to the center of the room, trailing a hose of some kind. Whisps of steam escaped various valves and pressure reliefs, he looked to be building a head of steam.

Sibling stepped out from behind her partner, both hands out in supplication.

“Pardon our friend,” she stepped between the crumbling woman and the rest of the Diner, very confident things would be resolved. “She can get worked up, and she’s a little protective,” the rebuke was evident, even for those that did not know this duo.

Behind her, the towering woman had returned to flesh, very tough flesh, but no longer stone. The tiara the dark woman wore was pulsing in time with her heart, always in time with her heart. Gal made an adjustment in her belt, a subconscious action that Sibling realized meant she was embarrassed.

“Sorry about that,” the basso female voice rumbled. She took a step, a very long step, toward the two creatures that resembled Clockwork, one spewing steam and the other standing in a battle crouch.

“Wouldn’t do that normally, but we had a rumble with some clocks last week. Sib got pretty banged up, won’t let it happen again.” The woman’s voice was a statement about Clocks, not jumping to conclusions. She did that all the time, that was part of her personality.

She extended one calloused palm to the non-steam powered being. “Gal, Gal ‘O War.”

“Tik-Tock,” the mechanical being said in a voice that could not be organic.

The handshake was firm, even for Gal, and she found herself actually smiling at the somewhat shorter being. Then the name tickled her mind, booming laughter followed, and Sibling could see that it startled the customers almost as much as the earlier blast of energy had when it shattered the window.

“Can see this close up that you got different parts than Clocks,” she made a motion of looking over the being’s shoulder, “and no Key. Me, I started collectin’ keys since last week.” She opened the front of the armored Flak jacket she wore, and a large metal key, along with many smaller keys, hung from a chain on her neck. “Smoothbore” was the inscription.

Turning her attention to the side, she addressed the other mechanical being.

“What’s your name?” She extended a hand to the steaming metal man.

Jackie was just coming out from the grill when she heard arguing coming from a booth near the rear of the Diner. The voices were that of a man and what sounded like a younger woman. The man's voice was much more intense, with a harsh accent, while the lady's voice contained the softness of innocence.

Looking toward Tony, obviously caught up in the group that had just come in, she grabbed an order pad from behind the register. Was that a Clockwork moving toward one of the tables?!

"Not a Clock, ma'am", the Hero with the glowing eyes and shoulder pads said, "He's OK."

That didn't stop the woman, who had given just as much as Tony had for this place, from giving another quick look at the lumbering mountain of steel and steam. *The furniture...* she thought.

The voices had quieted in the booth, as she came up next to the table, she was surprised to see only one occupant. The restrooms were in this part of the building, he could have gotten up a moment ago and she wouldn't have seen. The young woman who was seated looked up with brown, somewhat sad eyes, shying away from Jackie by reflex.

"No need to fear, Love, just here to ask for your order." The young girl must be no more than eighteen, she thought, and thin like a rail. "Will the gen'lman be ordering as well?"

"I'm sorry, did someone else have this booth?" The young girl looked completely confused, and made to slide out of the booth. Almost every movement reminded the older woman of a frightened animal, furtive and timid at the same time.

The puzzlement reflected in Jackie's face, "No, uh, I thought I heard a man's voice a moment ago." Not just thought, she was sure, and it was not at all this girl's voice. There was a temporary look of panic in the girl's eyes, then it was replaced by a spark of light.

Jackie blinked, the noise from her husband and the rest of the Diner was the same, but she had the startling feeling that time had just shifted. Like a moment was missing. The girl was still seated, the pad still in her hand. Opening day jitters, she said to herself.

"So, what'll you have, Love?" She wouldn't remember the male voice, or the strange look that came over the girl a moment before. Now, it was only a young woman dressed in a grey unitard, a moon emblem on her chest, seated in her Diner.

"We'd like the Veggie Omelette, the fruit platter, four slices of toast, wheat, a large orange juice, a milk and coffee. Cream and sugar, please?" It sounded like a question, and Jackie completely missed the odd plural reference. If this girl didn't have a friend, how could she eat all that food?

A moment passed as she wrote the order and calculated the cost in her head, good business manners meant putting the running total on the slip as the order was placed. Another ring of the door brought her head around, in Paragon City, not paying attention would lead to trouble.

"Sibling?" Boomed a deep, but female voice from the open door.

"Back here, Gal." The young woman in the booth moved to the edge and waved back to the latest visitor, affording her a view of her friend.

Gal 'O War, moving with a purpose and stride that fit her six-almost-seven foot frame, passed the tables with the other heroes already chatting. She didn't even glance twice at the steam leaking hero, she could tell Clockwork from a mile, and he wasn't. The muscles rippled under her suit, her ebony skin almost drinking in the light, and she crossed to the booth with Sibling in a few long strides. A crackling of energy seemed to spark from her arms as they swung in her stride.

One of the tables was a little out of place, and she was a little off-balance, just enough to catch her leg in mid-stride. A crunch and the corner came off, several layers of hardwood and laminate fell to the floor. She stopped, looked sheepishly down, and addressed the woman standing near Sibling in the booth.

"Sorry, I'll pay for that. Had a run in with a couple Shockers over in King's Row, leaving the loft. Still feelin' it." She handed the piece of table to Jackie, and slid into the booth as easily as she could.

"I told you to be more careful," the young woman, Sibling, whispered across the table. "You may be tough, but you aren't invulnerable."

"Workin' on that, Babe." The towering woman answered, loud enough to be heard at the front, even trying to be quiet. "Have you ordered yet?"

Jackie watched the two, obviously a team, and knew that Tony would need to order more grills if they were to keep up with this sort of crowd.

You bring that over here, Let an Earth-Born Mutant show you "The Spirit In The Sky" says Cliff
Arrogance has always been the Alien's greatest weakness. If you are an alien, you should ask before you decide to move in. If you are also Earth-Born, you should make nice with your neighbors, fights won't get you anywhere. If you plan on just taking what you want, you'll have to go through us to get it. We told Badaboom, we told the Tsoo, we told the last alien invaders, and now we will tell anyone that threatens Peace and Freedom in Paragon: Come strong, bring a lunch and six friends. Fighting the weak is not our thing, Cliff likes to snack while we beat down arrogant clowns and your six friends can carry you home to the funeral services.
Now you've got Cliff all fired up!

You are correct, since normal conversation in the USA appears to be:
"You won't believe what **** happen'd to me today! It was like, well, you know, un-***king real man! I was like, kicking some a** and then this **** walked up to me, you know, her **** all in my face...." or a favorite line from our leader-in-chief: "Fool me once, shame on...shame on you, Fool me again, well, you can't get fooled again." or "Demotracacity".I guess we don't have normal conversations, thank the Goddess we aren't normal.

Today.

Firstly, we love your handle, and hope that it means you are a magic user. Second, do you hang out on Guardian or Liberty? We would love to have someone to converse in Ogham with (besides each other).

OK, here is our story, this time with spaces since tabs don't work here. Again, comments are welcome, either way.

“We can’t keep this up,” she said into the cold morning air, trying to stretch some of the stiffness out of her neck. “It’s been almost two weeks since we slept in a bed, and half that long since we had a good meal.”

For emphasis she held up one skeletal hand, covered in pasty flesh that was far too taught for a 24 year old. There was dried blood and unidentifiable types of dirt speckled over her arms, filthy fingernails with chips and some evidence of the cold taking a toll. Her knuckles were swollen and she was sure arthritis had already started. Looking around the dark alley, her tears started again as they did often these days.

“I know, I feel it to…I’m sorry Angela, but we couldn’t stay any longer.” Her hands moved to wipe tears away from her eyes, leaving essentially the only clean streaks on her face. Her misery and wretchedness were not seen by anyone else, but she was still ashamed of it. Not having nice clothes, not always enough to eat, being isolated in a world she could never shut out were all companions from birth; being filthy and cold were recent additions.

The lower pitched voice came again, “I just don’t know what else to do, we have to go to the city for help.”

“We can’t! Crey almost caught us the last time! We won’t go back to that lab, it would be better to die.” She was shaking uncontrollably, her voice rising in hysterics to something near a scream. That proved to be her first serious mistake in some time.

The fire escape rang with sudden booted footsteps from above, rattling against the aging lag bolts holding into the chipped plaster of the brick wall. She looked up in enough time to know that this dark day might be her last. At least ten gray and black clad figures were pouring off the three story roof onto the steel ladder, the gang that held sway in this part of King’s Row, The Skulls.

“Hey little girl,” the largest of them sneered from one level above the street. “did you say you were lookin’ to die?” His gang was waiting along the railings, a couple with baseball bats or long knives flashing. She knew that killing was one of the Skulls rites, but didn’t believe that was all they would want.

She backed across the alley, as far as she could in the narrow space, until the cold bricks of the next building were pressing into her back. There was nowhere to go, the alley ended in dumpsters and another three story business, and the entrance already held several “Bones” leering at her. She was so tired and so hungry, even when she was feeling well this would have been too much.

“Please, we aren’t looking for any trouble,” Angela began.

“We?” The thug looked down the alley from one end to the other, “You got an invisible friend somewhere? Maybe we get two for one?” Harsh laughter rained down on the lone woman’s form like the misery and pain she felt.
Terrified, panicking and hopeless; that was how the first episode had been, too. That was when Cliff had been the brother and Angela the sister, when they had lived with their parents, before the incident that had started their long slide into today. The first time The Gestalt had happened.

Her mind went white, eyes rolled into her head and the voice that had been quiet and female, or lower and male by turns, took on the qualities of two rocks grinding together, impossible in so small a body.

“You will not touch her!” With an authority that left no question.

Even the Bone Daddy, Kneecapper, stood still for a moment, a suppressed shiver in his back. He had faced Heroes before, so it quickly passed. No little skirt was going to prevent this fun, and his men were witnesses.

“Kill her!” He bellowed, leaping off the landing and starting a negative energy attack. If the girl resisted, he knew the powers that provided him his strength would make sure she stayed “alive” long enough for some revenge.

Several things happened in quick succession: Kneecapper was falling and then rising rapidly to land with felt impact on the fire escape, two of his minions who had been rushing down were now convinced they should fight one another, another minion grabbed his splitting head…and the girl fell unconscious to the street.

“Hey kid, you alright?”

She opened her eyes only far enough to see that the man standing over her was not their father, when he shoved something warm and oatmeal-flavored into her mouth. A hand quickly reached up to grab it, to make sure she could eat it all. The quickness of her movement startled the stranger enough he stepped back, causing the immense rifle, barrel still smoking, strapped to his back to swing.

“Whoa! When’s the last time you ate?” His brown hair stood at attention, one half-gloved hand moving through it in a gesture. He watched the girl scuttle backwards like a beaten animal, tearing at the energy bar. He realized she must be almost starved, the bones in her face were visible beneath her skin, but what disturbed him most was the feral look in her eyes.

”You don’t need to thank me,” he strung out the last word for effect, “it looked like you were about to rise up from the grave and save yourself.” He was sarcastic but kept his tone gentle, this girl was as near outright panic as anyone he had ever seen. “Seriously, can you understand me?”

“We understand,” she said around the last bite of the Ms. Liberty Insta-End bar. “What do you want?” Her voice changed from definitely female to somehow masculine in mid-sentence.

He didn’t notice it immediately. “I only want to make sure you are OK. I’m a Hero, that’s what we do.” He smiled and slung the weapon tighter across his broad back. “You know, helping old ladies, purse-snatchers, taking down gangs.” The more he looked, the more it appeared this might be someone suffering Superadine withdrawl. It was eating up the city, but he knew a good clinic, and there were always beds for those he brought in.

“No, no drugs,” she said quietly. “I’ve been living on the streets, trying to stay off their grid.” The surprise on his face brought a small smile to her wane lips, “The Crey grid.”

She tapped the side of her head and stood up slowly, “We can read thoughts, at least some thoughts. And it is ‘We’.” Again the voice had changed quickly and seamlessly.

“Well, if you are on the run from the Crey, you ran into the right guy.” He pulled a small pouch, one of many, open at his belt and removed several small packets. Holding them up to the early light, she could see that they were Paragon Protector badges.

“I try not to mess them up, if I can help it. This one took some heat when the owner decided he stood a chance against old Mack here,” the man patted his rifle’s butt.
“By the way, I’m Mr. Fixit,” he held out one large hand.

“Sibling, sir, “ she shook it with her much smaller one. “Cliff wants to say he’s sorry, but you have to understand, nobody else has ever given us something for nothing.”

“Cliff?” The Hero looked puzzled, glancing behind him.

“Angela and Cliff, that’s us. We both share this body, that’s why we call ourselves ‘Sibling’. It’s a long story, but we don’t have time. Thank you Mr. Fixit, maybe we can help you one day.”

“The day is young, and my patrol is over. Actually, those Skulls helped me clean up a job I overlooked. I need to get back to my Contact with this,” he held up a bracelet that caught the light, light that didn’t look entirely earthly.

“I tell you what…Sibling?” he cocked an eyebrow, then continued when she nodded her head. “I’ll buy you breakfast at the Cafeteria in City Hall if you want to go that far, and maybe you can tell me a little of your story?”

“We are still filthy, and don’t have anywhere to go to clean up. Thank you for your kindness, but you have given enough.” She stared up at the man, but her eyes showed her shame. He had saved her life, obviously, given her food and even the offer of assistance, but the twins did not beg or shame their friends.

“No prob,” he waved a hand and quickly pointed, “I own that building. It’s a gym with showers and plenty of workout wear. You can shower in there and get cleaned up, and I’ll loan you some clothes until we can get you registered with the city.”

“Never!” The girl’s panicked voice was back and she took a step away.

“Not under your real name! None of the Heroes in Paragon go by their real names.” He held out his hands in peace. “The city is also really good about asking for only minimal info, and I have a friend in G.I.F.T. that will want to meet you.”

She stepped forward, head bowed sheepishly.

I told you he could be trusted, Angela silently said to Cliff in their head.
You are the telepath, He replied.

Mr. Fixit was fishing around in another pouch and the sound of keys was heard.

“Looks like it might be a good day,” he called behind him as Sibling crossed the street.

Looks like it might be a good day, indeed, the twins agreed.

Chapter 2

As the two stepped across the deserted street, Mr. Fixit took something else out of his pocket, an object that resembled a credit card, and held it out next to the doorframe. A red light, hidden behind a signed marked “Delivery” flashed twice and the otherwise indiscriminate door clicked open. Sibling noticed two oddities once the door was cracked, one that the door swung outward on the hinges, and second that it was much thicker and moved with more mass than she had thought.

“You can’t be too careful in this neighborhood,” Mr. Fixit explained as she stepped into the dimly lit hall. He reached to a panel near the door and the lights came up with an almost painful intensity after the early dawn outside.

She quickly blocked the light with one hand, and didn’t notice the widened eyes of her host. He had seen her in the alley, actually heard her first, and luck was with her in that he always came in a few hours early. When he stepped into the alleyway, she had just fallen, but there was still chaos in the gang. That had delayed them in getting to her, otherwise she would have been another victim.

He had not seen what shape she was in, at least not up close and in the light. Her entire body was a mess, from dirt and garbage stains on her torn clothes to her long, matted hair. She was obviously a runaway, and that could mean some issues with the authorities, if she had a record. These days, there were more scared kids in The Row than there were safe ones. He diverted his eyes and turned before her eyes could adjust.

“I’ll show you where the showers are,” he said, leading the way down a short hall toward another heavy door, “Then you can get cleaned up while I look into something for you to wear. Nothing fancy here, but you won’t stand out with all the Heroes running around.” He used only a normal key for this door.

Sibling took note that there were two other doors in the hall, on either side, and about ten feet from the outer door. Cliff had an eidetic memory, Angela a photographic one, the two forgot nothing they saw or read. One of the doors had no handle, and looked to be flush with the wall with barely a seam. The other was wooden, more like an office door, but without any sign or label.

Already, the heat from the building was bringing feeling back into their arms and legs. As they followed their new friend into the main space of the gym, they had to stop and stare, it was the most luxurious space they had ever seen. Calling it a gym was almost a joke, except for the complex equipment and science fiction equipment along the walls, it looked more like a laboratory.

“Who would work out in this place?” Sibling asked, still turning in place at the sight.

He was striding across the open center area, toward a raised platform that housed what appeared to be a bar, complete with bubbling drink machines and a cooler. The place looked more like a nightclub than a weight and aerobics gym. Even the equipment glistened, not a spec of dust on anything they could see.

He pause after reaching the raised area, the club’s check-in desk, and reaching into one of the coolers, pulled out a large bottle with something green and glowing inside. “Drink some of this, it will help put some life back into you,” he handed it to her when she stepped up. “It looked like the Bones had already taken a shot or two at you when I got there.” He pulled something out from under a counter and turned back to her.

“That was either really stupid, or really gutsy, and I’m not sure which.” A sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants held out, something that was the smallest he had in the place. Looking at her, they were still several sizes too big.

“You are very kind Mr. Fixit, but how do you expect us to pay for all these things?” Cliff’s voice carried the exact same accent and pattern, but was definitely male, much lower.

Fixit’s eyes widened again, that was very disconcerting, when this tiny girl suddenly had a man’s voice. Not the strangest thing the Hero had ever seen, or heard, but it made him step back anyway.

The young woman’s voice returned as quickly, “We don’t mean to frighten you, Cliff is just curious, and a little suspicious. We both are.”

Fixit backed up to a counter, and leaned down to rest his weight, kicking one leg out. He had placed the immense rifle against one corner of the counter, just within reach. Old habits die hard.

“I can understand, you probably don’t trust a lot of people, and in this town, that’s smart. What I can guarantee you though,” he placed the clothing on the counter, “is that no Hero, NO Hero, will hurt you.” He stood up to his rather impressive height, towering several feet over the smaller woman. “You have my word on that. If they did, crime fighting in the city would stop, at least long enough for every Hero from here to Talos Island to find the punk.” A decidedly wicked smile broke across his normally benign features, “And the smackdown that ensued would be legendary.”

Angela gave her brother a gentle, and silent, rebuke.
I told you, we can trust him.

“Now, you were asking who would visit my club.” He motioned for her to follow him to the nearest wall. “These,” he pointed to several photos, “are some of the finest Heroes in the city. Phayzed, Moncro, Hot Lead,” he paused for a moment and pointed to a picture alone, in a fancy frame, “and this is Blue Steel.”

All the people in the photos were either hard at work under heavy weights and specialized machines, or shaking hands with the man in front of her. Blue Steel was even in a T-shirt and very tight shorts, tight only because his legs looked like telephone poles. Now they understood, all this equipment was designed for super-powered users. It was no wonder some of it looked made out of earth moving vehicles.

A noise in the hallway they had come in through, drew their attention, and Sibling moved behind a pillar to block direct view. Already they were qeueing up a Dominate power, hesitation was not one of their traits. They had learned that always having a plan was the key to survival, and waiting to see what happened meant being part of it.

Fixit saw their movement out of the corner of one eye. His hand came up quickly, “Whoa! That’s just the staff!” He had quickly moved nearer Sibling, making a waving motion with both hands. He worked with Controllers and Blasters enough to know when a power was being brought up.

Her quick eyes darted to the side, realized that this was his place and that he wasn’t worried about the approaching sounds, and allowed the Dominate power to fade. Not releasing the power was somewhat painful, and took her a few heartbeats to tame. The grimace reached the thin lips, and the large man misunderstood.

“I know things might have been tough on the streets,” he stepped back, “but there isn’t anything to fear inside these walls. There are some special enhancements that brute force and guile won’t pass, and if you don’t have one of these cards,” he held up the plastic card he’d used on the back door, “you don’t get in.”

“Hey! What’s going on, boss?” Came a female voice from the direction of the back hall.

Sibling took a step to the side, barely peeking around the corner of the column. The voice had come from a tall woman, a very tall woman with glowing eyes and wearing something more like fur than a jacket. From the looks of her, this woman was over seven feet tall, and after a closer look, wore nothing other than the full body fur.

“You need to meet a new friend, Slice.” Mr. Fixit addressed the woman with a warm voice, obviously these two were friends. He motioned to Sibling to step around the side of the column toward him, picking up the rifle as he did. “This is…Sibling…”, he hesitated and looked toward the still hesitant girl.

“Sibling,” Cliff’s voice confirmed. They stepped out from behind the column and down onto the main floor, turning in the direction of the furred woman. Even at this distance, Sibling had to look up into the woman’s face. The glowing eyes widened for a moment at the male voice coming from the small woman, then the glow faded and the woman’s cat slit eyes met Sibling’s.

“SliceofPie,” the woman held out one hand, which Sibling saw was actually a paw with stubby fingers and barely retracted claws. “My friends, and friends of my friends, “she gave a sly look toward Mr. Fixit, “call me ‘Slice’.”

The grip was surprisingly firm, and rough. After their hands touched, Angela felt a wild rush of heat, the sound of wind rushed through their ears, and Slice drew back her hand like she was stung.

“Wow!” The tall woman took a small jump backwards and crouched, one arm touching the ground in a classic football stance. “Tell a girl you’re a Telepath next time! I just came off patrol and haven’t shaken off one of the Rikti mind spells quite yet.” While her tone was offended and sharp, a smile crossed her feral lips, and her nostrils flared wide. Angela could feel that the anger was only on the surface, there was a curiosity beneath the surface.

“Oh yeah, Sibling, I forgot to mention,” Fixit had walked over to the pair, carrying the sweats and a small duffel bag, “Slice wears her heart on her sleeve.” The rumbling from Slice was only a mock warning. “Telepaths bother her a little.”

The woman rose and towered over even Fixit, Sibling saw she reached only to the other woman’s chest. This close, she could see that there was a thin belt and chest crossing vest. Small holsters and sheaths filled with edged weapons were within easy reach. She could also see the twin swords that Slice wore across her back.

“Don’t bother me, “ she growled, “just like to know ahead. Can’t fight what you can’t see.” She stood indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. The twins could see that she really was covered in fur, thicker near her elbows and knees, but wore essentially nothing else. Pointed ears and tufts of fur only made the resemblance to a cat more powerful.

“Like the ears?” When Slice was amused, there was a purring current to her tone. Sibling realized she was staring, Fixit was smiling knowingly from the side. “Don’t be embarrassed, I get that a lot.” Her nose wrinkled slightly, a tightening of the cleft upper lip, “Don’t take this the wrong way, Sibling,” the taller woman broke eye contact and looked sheepishly at the floor, “but you need to get some clean clothes.”

Their face flushed, and Fixit actually chuckled, trying hard to cover it.

“She was on her way, er, their way, when you came in.”

“I suppose you were going to show her the way?” An amused purr ended with a cocked eye, the whiskers above it rising.

“Not me, I am a man of Virtue!” There was an obvious inside joke here, Sibling was not following.

“More like a Guardian, but I appreciate it.” Slice took the clothes and the bag from Fixit’s arms, “Follow me, I’ll show you the facilities. I’m sure that Fixit knows how to open the desk.”

“Watch her, Sibling,” Fixit gave a wink, “she isn’t afraid of the water.”

The two women walked across the room toward the facilities. This was going to be an interesting day.

One step ahead. We actually use the NOAA GOES satellite, bounce a signal off that, which is public domain and at 1200 baud untraceable without near reception, which comes down through a feed in The Port, and then goes out over landline. Can't trace it except at the satellite, with it's under 10 Watt signature, shouldn't be an issue. BTW, CIA can trace the Mag's if they have operative there, and what CIA guy doesn't look like 5th?

Enan, This is all second hand, but our room-mate, Lady Gemini, is of Japanese ancestry, and she has told some tales (has a nice tail, a real one, but that's for another discussion) from her family story. Apparently, the Tsoo are a fairly new gang, in the timeline of Yakuza (which are only Japanese Gangs, as YaKuZa is actually the number 8-9-3, and exclusively Japanese) which date from early 1600's. So, the Tsoo being Japanese Yakuza is out.
The Hmong connection bears some investigation, but we are obviously not the correct ethnicity to do this. They are an extremely tight group, and due to our patrols, we can give you this information:
The Tsoo are very prolific in Steel Canyon, and hang around especially heavy near the Hazard Zone entrances. They are in a bitter fight with the Outcasts, and we often get into it with both groups. Sadly, they always team up to attack heroes whenever the opportunity presents itself. From the appearance of their majiks and uniforms, we would surmise that they are of Chinese origin, but there are many oriental groups that span China, Vietnam, Korea, etc... that are not necessarily specific to an identified country. We relate this to some other fiends in the city, such as not seeing any African ethnicity 5th Column (or any other race for that matter), not having seen any European Tsoo or the like. They are definitely associated with mystiks, which would indicate the more hinterland religions, or maybe even from The Steppes or Mountains. How they came to Paragon, we cannot say, but will ask Lady when we see her back at the loft later, maybe some of her "contacts" in the less desirable neighborhoods can enlighten us. We will leave some info on the info-kiosk, encrypted, near the entrance to Skyway's Tram. Check it out there.