Sooner

I will see if I can get enough merits on my bots MM. this sounds fun.

Oh... and Rasta can cover it on his radio show!

Um... Zek... it looks like she might've buried them and dug them back up.....

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damned virtue and their portals. something must be done!




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I have a plan...

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*cowers and whimpers*

oh... no... he said it....

*streaks the thread*

Scowls. A lot.

I don't remember exactly what started me thinking about it... but Rose is a very interesting character to me. She's a villain, but not by choice, and many of her actions are based on expediency, not evil.

One day I was thinking about Rose's relationship with her family. She was innocent of the crime for which she was sent to prison, but the case was solid against her. It made sense that even people that cared about her would believe the charges.

So... what would Rose feel about that? And what would she do if something threatened those parents?

So, I asked my friend Ice9 if any of the Ghosts were ruthless enough to go after Rose by threatening her parents - many of Ice's characters are more of the dark hero type, vigilantes who are rather grey in their morality - and he suggested Six-Four, describing him as "one ruthless [censored]."

We did work up the history of what had happened between Rose and Six between us to make Six hate Rose as much as he did. However, I wrote this story, Ice9 did not suggest these actions.

I will say Ice does not consider this one of his favorite of my stories, despite the fact that more of the major characters are his rather than mine (a fact I hadn't really noticed until T just pointed it out).

*sneaks in, drops a big bag of puppy treats*

Yes, it does smell a bit more fresh here...

*runs back to Protector*

Pfft.


Tell the guy to get over himself.

I think you're just fine, Stale.

They made fun of me for posting in the wrong rookery!!!!

*wails and runs away*

I visited. But I was frightened.

O_O

*deposits beer, cheetos, oreos, and a small back of puppy food*

*runs back to protector*

My good friend Major T likes to stimulate conversation. He's pretty good at it.

The bottom line: The Ghosts know Six-Four crossed the line. They don't know how far he went over it. The assumption of Ahren and the other Ghosts is that he went off on his own, made some pretty serious mistakes, and nearly got killed for it. They believe, and to some extent are correct in their belief, that he will have learned a lesson from the experience. Six-Four is not going to jail, and he will appear in at least one more story.

This story was about Choices and the consequences of them. Rose chose friendship over parents and gained a new, if rather uneasy, alliance from it. Conall chose to save his rival rather than let her die because of his own rather unique sense of "honor." And Six-Four chose to throw all sense of right and wrong to the wind when he saw an opportunity to get revenge on an enemy. And from that, he gained a new enemy and lost the respect of someone he admired.

Now... the last thing I'd say is that Six-Four is NOT my character. Which means when I'm done with him, I have to leave him in the condition I found him. Were he a character I created for this story, I would have killed him at the end. There wouldn't have been any jail for him, Conall Cian and Bounty-Killer would have killed him - and done so rather gruesomely. But since he is the character of a friend, killing him or sending him to jail is not an option.

This is really interesting to me...

This story provoked quite a discussion the first time I posted it, but that time, the conversation revolved around Ebony Rose becoming a sympathetic character and a victim, despite her past actions.

This time, the conversation is about Six-Fours SG and their knowledge.

I have learned one thing from this about my own writing. As a reader, I HATE it when the author spoon feeds the story to me. I prefer it if I get to draw my own conclusions occasionally. I think, based on the reaction I'm getting here, I may over correct by not giving enough information, by forcing to reader to drawn too many of his own conclusions. I've received a similar criticism on one of story arcs. The story IS logically consistent, but I guess I didn't provide enough information for the player to follow.

IF the Ghosts knew everything, Six would have woken up in a jail, not in the Ghosts infirmary. They do know he crossed the line. They don't know how far.

*hugs and offers chocolate*

Let me know when you finish it. I'll want to play it.

Now.. that's an interesting argument.

The Ghosts are certainly not a villain group.

The Ghosts were not fully aware of the extent of Six-Fours actions.

And since I can speak for the half of the leadership that is MY character (Sooner Spirit), if she knew everything Six-Four had done, he would not still be a Ghost.

The conclusion of Choices is posted in RP.

When originally posted in Protector forums, this story provoked quite a bit of discussion about who was the "hero" in this story.

I would love to hear your thoughts on the actions of the major characters in this re-posting.

Part XV

Six-Four woke slowly. It was a sign of just how severe his internal injuries were that he didn’t wake immediately. The slow waking gave him plenty of time to think, however. He’d lost because Ebony Rose had friends, back-up, and support, where he’d had none. He’d lost because he was too driven, too obsessed with his target. And why hadn’t he taken advantage of the offer of help Ahren had made? Because he know if the Ghosts understood what he’d intended, they would have stopped him. These were people he respected, and every one of them counted Ebony Rose and the Shades among their enemies, but they would never have tolerated his actions. He knew many of them would understand his need for revenge. Several of them would be willing to turn away while he enacted it. But he suspected that none of them would approve of the way he’d gone about it. As he rose slowly out of the depths of his mind, he found himself listing, over and over, the things he wished he’d done differently.

He finally awoke, and found himself laying in a quiet bed in the Ghost’s infirmary. At first he thought he was completely alone, but then he heard paper rustle, and saw that Ahren was seated quietly in a chair near the foot of his bed, reading a cloth-bound book. He was surprisingly glad for the company, relieved that he was not completely alone in the sterile and quiet room.

Ahren looked up at Six. “There you are,” the one-time teacher said. “Feeling better?”

Six nodded. Ahren’s tone was a little too forced, and it made his stomach clench.

“Have you ever read Kipling?” Ahren asked suddenly, holding up his book to show the cover: The Second Jungle Book. Rudyard Kipling.

Six cleared his throat, “Perhaps. In school. I don’t remember.”

“Let me read you something. It’s titled “The Law of the Jungle.” Six nodded, and Ahren’s tone of voice changed as he read,
“NOW this is the Law of the Jungle—as old and as true as the sky;
And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die.
As the creeper that girdles the tree-trunk the Law runneth forward and back—
For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack. “

Ahren closed the book, leaned forward to meet Six-Four’s gaze, “The strength of the Wolf is the Pack,” he repeated.

Six felt his stomach drop. He respected Ahren as much as anyone in the world. He could feel the disappointment rolling off of the teacher. He nodded, once, but didn’t trust himself to speak.

Ahren set the book aside and leaned forward. “While we’re sharing interesting and though-provoking quotes, how bout this one, from Confucius, ‘If you devote your life to seeking revenge, first dig two graves.’”

The teacher stood and approached the head of the bed. “Six, we need to talk.”
---

Rose arose slowly through a dense fog of pain medicine and exhaustion. She was in the medical bay of her base. At first she only saw Conall, in his human form, sitting close by. He leaned forward when she opened her eyes. Then she realized she was surrounded by her friends in the Shades. Death Shrowd was at the head of the bed, along with Shepherd’s Fire, Brygid, Ivy Pendragon.... and many others. The tiny room was packed full of people. “Conall?” she called.

“You very nearly died, Rose. It was close,” he said in answer.

“You saved me,” she said. It was as much a question as a statement and Conall nodded, a slow dip of his chin towards his chest and back up, without saying a word.

Rose nodded back, understanding that something had fundamentally changed, but not sure just what. “Am I going to be ok?” she asked.

Shepherd’s Fire stepped up to answer. “Your prosthetic is shot, you’ll need to rebuild it. You lost a ton of blood, and had a lot of soft tissue injury. You also had something called a “flail chest” and a perforated lung.” Shepherd shrugged. “But.. You’re going to be ok.”

“My parents?”

Conall stood at that. “They are fine, if confused. They have been told very little about what is going on. The charges against them have been dropped, but it appears the damage to their reputation has been done. They have both been fired from their jobs.” Conall shrugged. “They do expect to see you, soon.”

“And.... Six-Four?” she asked.

Conall barked out a laugh. “The last I saw of him, he had a sword sticking out of his chest.”

“Cowboy Nightmare?” Rose asked hopefully.

“No. Bounty-Killer.”

Rose nodded, surprised. Then looked around the room at the group of people who cared about her. “Well... Someone get me my prosthetic and my tools, if I have to fix the damn thing.”
---

Several days later, Rose was installing the last of a complex alarm and home defense system in the new home she’d purchased for her parents in the best part of St. Martial. She suspected there were top-secret government faculties less secure than her parent’s home would be when she was done.

Thanks to some rather large favors she’d done for some rather large names in St. Martial, she was able to secure her father a very nice job managing the electronic gaming division at the Giza. After much discussion and debate, her mother elected early retirement.

The relationship was still very tense, and not helped a bit by the understanding that their lives and reputations had been ruined as an attempt to get to their daughter. Whatever had gone before, she was still a highly notorious villain in the Rogue Isles, and that was hard for the couple to accept.

Elizabeth hovered, her fingers nervously clutching a locket that Rose was bitterly convinced contained pictures of her brother and sister; ONLY her brother and sister. “But, Bonnie... what about Catherine and David?” she asked, again.

Rose tightened one last screw, perhaps a little too vigorously, and stood to face her mother. “What about Catherine and David? And their spouses? And their children?” she asked in return. “Do you want your grandchildren growing up the Rogue Isles? Going to school here? And what about your sister? And her husband and their children and their familes? And Dad’s army of siblings, and...” Rose sat down and inserted the power supply to a small sentry robot that would patrol the grounds when the alarm system was active. “And what about the guy that took me to the prom in high school? Hell.. What about the guy who took YOU to the prom in high school?” She released the robot and watched it walk its path with a critical eye. “Mom, we know you can be a target. If we’re obvious about trying to protect anyone else it will just make them a target.” She reached out and squeezed her mother’s shoulder. “I promise you... we will be watching out for them.”

Rose’s phone rang, and she turned away from Elizabeth to answer it. The caller spoke two words, “He’s ready.”
---

It nearly broke her heart to see him. Dr. Mueller led him out, a tall, muscular man with white hair, dressed in baggy blue scrubs, led by the elbow like an invalid. Rose was interested to note that Mueller was absolutely terrified.

“Here he is,” Mueller said, and pushed the tall man away towards Rose.

Rose frowned darkly as she took her friend by the arm. He looked down at this hands and then back up to meet Rose’s eyes. “Rose?” he asked, and the confusion in his voice sent another wave of pain through her. His eyes were dazed, his expression like a child’s bewildered and overwhelmed. He held up his hands. “Rose... there’s no ice... Where’s the ice?”

Rose whirled back to Mueller and raised one brow. “What’s wrong with him?” she demanded.

“After what happened... last time, “Mueller stuttered, ‘we thought it best if he were... um... in familiar surroundings before... um... fully recovering.

“But he will recover?” she said, more a demand than a question.

“Oh! Yes, yes!” he reassured her, “just... it will be best if he’s - ah - at home. Where you have the means to - ah .... manage him.”

“I see,” she answered. “And the package I brought you?”

“Destroyed, as you asked.”

“The research data on this project?”

“Erased from memory, no hard copies.”

“So, who besides yourself knows about this?”

Mueller blanched at the question, then answered swiftly, “My entire staff knows at least a little, security had to be made aware of the danger, of course...”

Rose nodded regretfully. “That is quite a few. Can they all be trusted to keep silent?”

“Oh, of course!” Mueller answered too quickly. “Absolutely confidential.”

“Of course,” she answered, and carried the new Shattered Ice9 home.
---

That night, an explosion rocked a far corner of the Rikti War Zone. A secret Crey facility hidden there collapsed upon itself. An emergency meeting of the entire staff, down to custodians and cafeteria workers had been called, making the tragedy complete. Over time, the bodies of every single person who had worked there were recovered, with the exception of one Dr. Franc Mueller. There was no helpful information ever recovered from the base computer systems, and a raging fire and the subsequent, but tragically late, activation of the sprinkler system had destroyed all paper copies of any work that might have been going on.

Dr. Mueller, has it turned out, took up a new residence, as a guest in the basement of the Shades of Vengeance base.

Just in case.

The end

Oh.. wow.. those colors are AMAZING.

How did I miss this?

Happy Birthday, Hulkers!

*runs, jumps, hugs*

Part XIV of Choices is up in RP.

Part XIV

Conall had watched the whole thing. He was a creature whose very existence in this world was based in fear, and he could feel the terror rolling off of Rose in waves. She was near panic, and he intended to fully enjoy watching her succumb to her emotions. Would she futilely beg Six-Four to let her go? Or just scream and cry and waste her last minutes of life in useless struggles to be free?

But Rose refused to oblige him. She had to be in agony, she had no way to defend herself, and yet... she calmly met her attacker’s gaze and chatted with him. How could she appear so calm with the fear running so deep in her?

He watched as the hero slapped her, punched her, and stabbed her. He watched her stare back at her captor as if they were engaging in polite conversation over a conference table. He’d known battle hardened veterans who wouldn’t have held up as well. And then he felt the moment that her fear ended and her resolve began. He knew then that she’d accepted her death, and he felt her determination to control even that. He had to admit... he admired her. He respected what he’d just seen, and he realized he’d misjudged her. She might not have the physical strength of Death Shrowd, the terrifying abilities of Cowboy Nightmare, or the raw elemental power of Shattered Ice9, but that woman was not the weakling he’d dismissed her as. She had her own deep well of strength. And with that realization, Ebony Rose earned the loyalty of the demon.

Conall rose from his crouch and saw he was nearly too late, the hero was already moving towards what would have to be a death blow. He yelled, using his deep “cop” voice, “Hey! You’re a long way from home, hero.” As Six-Four turned, Conall smiled, a big, predatory smile. He looked every inch the menacing cop in his heavy leather trenchcoat and shining badge, with his hands on his hips. He started striding towards Six. “You shouldn’t be here.” His skin turned red and his coat furled up into giant leathery wings. “There be monsters here!” He broke into a run, head forward like a charging bull, clawed feet pounding the floor with the sound of a furious thunderstorm.

His target dropped the knife and drew a pair of impervium katanas. “C’mon then, you ugly [censored]!” Six-four yelled.

Conall roared a challenge, and then they met. As Conall closed, Six reached past him with those gleaming swords and sliced the delicate membranes of his wings. Blood dripped down from the long cuts in that thin layer of tissue, and Conall hissed in pain as his wings extended. But then Conall charged into Six, and drove him back. They slammed into the wall just inches from where Rose remained pinned. “You will leave the lady alone,” Conall snarled at Six.

Conall turned to meet Rose’s pain-filled eyes and was looking right at her when she coughed weakly and expelled a fine spray of blood. Conall realized time was very short for Rose, and Six just grinned triumphantly at Conall. The human knew he’d won, he just had to keep Conall busy while the injuries Rose had already sustained finished her off.

Six twisted away from Conall, getting some distance. As they circled, Conall would try to dart in, and Six would score another cut. The wounds were mostly shallow and minor, but they were building up. The feinting and dancing about were allowing the clock to tick away like the last few beats of Ebony Rose’s heart.

Conall set his teeth in a growl and began trying to drive the hero like he had before. Driving him ever back onto the right knee, always putting the pressure on that leg, but the longer blades made it harder for Conall to force the issue.

He glanced at Rose again, and saw that she was unconscious, hanging from the cruel knives piercing her wrists, her skin ashen. She couldn’t have more than a few moments to live.
---

The opening act made their big band finish and bowed themselves off the stage. The audience’s half-hearted applause followed them. This crowd was there to see Johnny Sonata, and many hadn’t even bothered to show up yet. A man in the most expensive seats, dressed nicely, watched the crowd. He rose to his feet and carefully made his way to the aisle. He approached the stage, and an enormous security guard moved to intercept him. He flashed the token he carried in his palm, and the guard nodded, stepping back.

The man wore a long black trenchcoat over a red silk dress shirt, black silk tie, and nicely tailored black slacks. His eyes were hidden by expensive sunglasses. Carefully concealed in the folds of that coat was a katana, but he had no particular plan to use that weapon, he just considered it prudent to be armed. He was at the Giza to meet a contact, to take on a new job. He was to watch the opening act, then go backstage. He considered it a needlessly expensive and time-consuming way to meet, but it was what the contact wanted.

He passed smoothly through the throng to the stage door, and ignored the chaos backstage. He followed his instructions to make his way into the bowels of the casino behind the concert hall. The backstage area was a labyrinth, and he moved slowly, trying to make sure he was following the correct path when he heard a man’s deep yell. He jogged along the hall toward the sounds of combat. If his contact had been intercepted, he’d wasted a whole afternoon, and the cost of that expensive show ticket.

He was stunned by the sight that met his eyes when he rounded the corner. He recognized Conall Cian in his demon form instantly, but the man in jeans flashing a pair of katanas was... ah.. That was Six-Four. He had been getting quite a bit of press since his involvement in the arrests of Ebony Rose’s parents. And then he saw the reason for the fight. Ebony Rose herself, pinned to the wall by a pair of knives... very nearly dead. Her blood ran in streaks down the wall from her right wrist and pooled on floor from the knife in her thigh. Blood trickled from her mouth and nostrils. He put together the story quickly. He knew Ms. Rose, had worked for her, and had hopes of working for her again. Which meant he couldn’t stand back while she died.

Bounty-Killer vanished from sight, and advanced into the room.
---

Six was eminently satisfied with the events of the afternoon. He glanced at his enemy, and judged that if she wasn’t dead yet, she was too close to matter. He danced and fought around the huge demon who’d beaten him down twice, and kept on smiling. Even if that demon got a claw on him, he’d finally avenged Kurt. But for now, the longer blades were keeping the demon out of reach, keeping him busy, keeping him from saving the murderous [censored].

Six feinted, trying to draw the demon in, and it worked. As Conall lunged for Six’s “exposed” flank, Six scored a pair of deep wounds, one just missing the major vessels of the neck, the other cutting deep into the muscles of the shoulder. The demon roared out his pain in a most satisfying manor, and Six let his grin grow more broad.

“It’s going to feel good to kill you both, monster,” Six said conversationally.

“You haven’t killed anyone yet, little hero,” the demon growled back.

The demon stumbled back, as if blood loss were making him weak, and Six made too long a reach to take advantage. The demon lunged in past the blades, and Six realized too late he’d fallen for the same trick he’d just pulled. The demon landed a solid kick on Six’s kneecap, forcing the weak knee to over-extend. As Six was flinching back from that pain, the next kick landed on the outside of the knee, flexing it in a direction it was never meant to go. Six collapsed onto that knee, and pulled his swords up into a frantic guard position. But the demon didn’t follow his advantage. He turned, and ran for Rose.

Six healed himself with a thought, and dragged himself to his feet. He would not let the [censored] be saved. He wouldn’t allow it! That damned knee tried to collapse again, but he willed it to hold. He took one step in preparation to charge the demon, and then... coughed. He blinked in confusion at the gleaming blood-streaked metal of a katana that suddenly appeared before his face. He coughed again as the blade moved further up and a black clad arm reached around his throat.

Six-four felt his heart struggling to beat around the length of steel that pierced it. He felt his victory crumble as Conall Cian yanked the knives out of Rose and lifted her limp body. The demon paused long enough to glare at Six. “Next time, Hero... next time we finish this.” Conall smiled, “For now, I’ll leave you to play with your new friend.” Conall activated his own emergency teleporter and vanished, taking Rose with him.

Six would have roared out his own frustration if he could catch his breath. A deep voice with a bit of an accent spoke into his ear, “Go home, hero... you’re not welcome here.” Six felt the man move behind him, and then the blade twisted savagely. Six coughed and felt his knees start to go out under him. The voice spoke again as Six dropped. “”Show your face around here again, and we’ll see if you can regenerate your head!” The sword was abruptly withdrawn and Six felt his heart start to flutter as if a frantic bird was trapped inside his ribs. The villain reached for the emergency teleport that would take him back to Ghosts’s base. “Go. Home.”

Actually, in my case, the history between my villain group and hero group, an undercover op makes a lot of sense.

Whew.... at least they didn't get the pr0n. or the Oreos. Or the chocolate.