The_Ninjin

Eh...most times folks don't miss a beat. Should be alright without.

I lose points because your first post defines that. >.<

And whats the time of year?

Wait... I believe it was around February-ish when season 2 went down so I guess thats...October-ish?

"Oh. Umm, Captain I don't...actually...ha..." the words trailed off as the Captain, focused on the task at hand, left the conversation before Josiah finished.

...ve super powers...

Josiah looked around as Abbie began to exit via teleportation. He decided he might as well so as not to disappoint on his first day.

Once through, he shook from a violent shiver that ran down his spine and back up again.

"Ok that'll take some getting used to...oh crap!"

He waited as Abbie spoke with the SWAT captain and then stepped behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hi, so...we met in the other ummm, the precinct. Josiah. And I wasn't sure or aware maybe that I'd be here. Not that it's a big issue," he laughed nervously, "but I sort of umm, forgot some...everything at the station. You know, the little comm device and a sidearm and...anything else necessary to you know...live."

Josiah shrugged, "I don't know. I...hmmm, what do you think?"

Josiah kicked himself for being unprepared and for his nervousness. He has been trained by some of the most qualified minds in the world, not to mention this was just a quick bust. Why was he so hesistant? Brian's words rang in his head like a gong. Part of him kicked himself again because he was probably right.

Stupid pride.

“She was grabbed by two young men, late teens/early twenties, both Caucasian and dressed in gang colors—Skulls.”

Josiah held in his surprise. His mother always taught him never to let anything surprise him. Maybe it was Skulls. Eh, what do I know?

"I want the bulk of you to travel to the warehouse, bring them in, and find out what Horton knows.”

Josiah leaned back in his seat slightly. He didn't want to seem too comfortable in a high-intensity situation. From what he understood, or rather assumed, his job would start here at the station. Everyone in the room looked more than qualified and prepared to handle on-location assignments.

“Everyone make sure to get a radio and keep it on, its likely we won’t be back here until after this situation has been resolved and I’ll need to order on the fly.”

Josiah stood up amongst the hustle of the others moving into their various responsibilities. He stepped quickly over to the Captain and waited at a position of Parade Rest until he was acknowledged. During that time, he became aware of the fact that he was the only soldier in the office apart from everyone that was downstairs. To Josiah, this meant that he may be playing a bigger part in this operation that he initially imagined. A nervous sentiment spread across his entire body.

"Captain Simms, what will be my part in this assignment?"

Oh man...

Random Info:

For anyone that decides to make the correlation, directly or indirectly, about Josiah.

Tracy Josiah Goode II
Age 22

Metaforces rep who was integrated into a new program ok'd by the President, allowing Metas to provide joint support to the Metaforces teams within the structure of the military establishment. Initially, the Metaforces was a selection of the best from all branches of the armed forces. Now, it has become so large, that it has become a branch of the military all it's own. They also have now allowed any with inherent, scientific, technological abilities to join in as well. Those with magic or mutant origins have been denied (for now) due to issues of stability

He Recently graduated from the Paragon Police Academy and received joint task force metaforce training for six months at an undisclosed location.

Father: Tracy Goode- Owner of "Random Goodes"

Sister: Stacy Goode - Manager of Random Goodes, Talos Island; Josiah's twin.

Random Goodes- Successful antiques and memorabilia chain of stores started by Tracy Goode in 1980. Five locations: Atlas Park (flagship), Galaxy City, Skyway City, Talos Island, and Founder's Falls.

Owner, Tracy Goode, is an integral part of the Meta-Transition Assistance Program or MTAP, which helps heroes retiring from saving the city to getting a new life as a civilian. Random Goodes is apart of a list several businesses in Paragon that employ retired heroes (depending the reason is honorable).

So far. We're all old hats here." Kasoh said, looking up from his tech device, he waved at Abbie, "Hi Abbie."

Josiah held a curious gaze at Abbie. She seemed too average to not be more than meets the eye. Her casual attire and demeanor only made him convinced of it even more.

"I'm Dr. Kasoh Onnoroc--call me Kasoh, or Doc, or...whatever. That's Quex in the back, she's mean."

The warrior woman snorted, but didn't correct him.

Josiah couldn't help but take in the purposeful opportunity to look at Quex again. There was something about her. Maybe it was the armor, or the sword, or perhaps it was battle weary design her body had taken from whatever lifetime of encounters she'd come across. It could have been a combination, Josiah wasn't sure.

"That's Warpshroud." He pointed to Abbie.

The rookie smiled and nodded when Kasoh pointed her out, "Warpshroud." He'd said it out of acknowledgment and also just to hear it come from himself; to see how it sounded.

"Now, the update. We were called in for a briefing. That woman in the suit? She's a Fed of some sort--or just has a really bad tailor."

Josiah smirked and thought back to a movie he'd seen recently about two drug cops working on their last case and explosions and Cuba and something or the other.

"You're my new wunderkind rookie right? Goode?"

Without waiting for confirmation he waved at a seat, "Paperwork later, have a seat get ready for the briefing. Onnoroc! Make your overeducated *** useful and update the boy!"

Kasoh rolled his eye and made a 'come hither' motion at Goode without looking up from his data tablet.

Josiah looked over at the man who had came in to the Two Six a little bit before him and sat down in the chair next to him. He slid the chair back a few inches so not to seem so close, but it was difficult with the other chairs all right next to each other.

Defeating the purpose of sliding back, he leaned forward and spoke softly, "What's with the update? I thought we were..." Josiah looked around warily at everyone and that's when he noticed Abbie.

When did she get here?

Then he remembered the unfamiliar smell he picked up when he had been staring at the other woman. His nose always seemed to work apart from the rest of his consciousness, like a rogue sense. Josiah looked back to Kasoh, "What update? Am I the only new person so far?"

Brian watched from the Two Six entrance as Josiah continued with the decision that he'd made. It was nothing like what it was, but that was a good thing. Structure was a necessary component and allowing a ragamuffin pickup team of heroes solve crimes just didn't cut it sometimes.

The Detective turned away from the precinct and walked back toward his car to face a man in a blue pinstripe suit. He wore a black fedora and wingtip shoes. Silver cufflinks with an engraved "G" sparkled on his wrist. He was in his mid-fifties, but easily looked to be in the mid-thirties. The stranger's eyes seemed to have a plethora of stories to tell with a small remnant of a tinkle that let people know that he wasn't done yet. The thinning black hair was cut very short and could barely be seen with the hat that covered it. His dark skin was rough, down to his fingertips. He had definitely experienced the definition of a hard day's work.

"Well, that seemed to go a lot worse than you expected," the man spoke.

"Did it," Brian asked.

"I imagine so."

"Maybe," Brian stopped a few feet in front of the gentleman, who tipped his hat towards him and nodded with a smile.

"So what now?"

"Now," the suited man responded, "you keep your end of the bargain."

Brian walked past the man and around the back of the sedan to the driver's side door. He opened it and looked up.

"He's made his choice. Just like you did. Just like I did."

"And what choice is that," the gentleman asked.

Brian held the air in silence. A brief wind filled with specks of dust caused Brian to blink sporadically and look away to shield his face from any more debris. When he looked up again, the man wasn't anywhere in sight. Brian ducked into his car and closed the door.

"The choice to be someone he doesn't know how to be."

The car started and drove off past the police station and around the corner. From where the car was parked, a well-dressed man tipped his hat one last time.

"He'll learn. You did."

Kasoh, how much time has passed since the last story?

In the next day or four, hahahahahaha...

*shakes head*

Sounds like a plan.

Gave Brian a new job and less in-story responsibility. A guest star, if you will.

"And you're sure about this?"

"Couldn't be more sure about anything else."

"You're lying."

"Whatever, B. I know what I want."

"Look, all I'm saying is that you graduated top five in your class and had the option of picking any precinct in this dimension and the next because you happened to save the Chief's daughter but-"

Brian Wincott sighed. His mentee, Josiah Goode, did what he did best: ignore a real situation. With headphones on, Brian knew it was best to let things go.

For now.

Brian shook his head as he came to a stop sign and signaled to turn right. He was taking Josiah to the Two-Six in King's Row to be indoc'd for his new job. It was something the Detective was reluctant to do. It hadn't been that long since Brian's first day at the Two-Six; let alone his last.

The car turn slowly around the corner to avoid hitting pedestrians hurriedly crossing the street to avoid being hit. Then again, in this city, they may have just been rushing to the sanctity of their home to relieve themselves of the pressures of being outside in King's Row.

Memories flooded the newly appointed chief investigator for the Paragon Police Department. Memories of every day he'd spent with anyone involved with the Two-Six. Some of it pleasant. A lot of it not so much. One look over at a 22 year old Josiah and Brain had to try again.

Brian stopped just short of the precinct and yanked the left side of the headphones out of Josiah's ear. The reaction was as if the kid had been plucked on the temple.

"Hey man! Look, I know what you're gonna say. You're gonna-"

"You know what," Brian's voice raised a few volumes above Josiah's. Josiah rolled his eyes and stopped speaking, "You've got a big mouth. A mouth that can't be backed up by anything you have going on for yourself." The insult got Josiah's attention.

"Yea," Brian nodded with a smirk, "You saved a life. You graduated from a police academy and was among the first group to be integrated into the Metaforces Joint Task Support Group. Wooo, yay for you!" Brian added in a bit of sarcastic applause at the end. His face straightened almost immediately.

"But what the hell does any of that even mean? Please tell me? Answer me."

Josiah opened his mouth, but Brian cut him off, "Don't talk! You don't have anything worth hearing." The kid furrowed his eyebrows.

"It doesn't mean a damn thing if you don't have the ability to act or the desire to live," Brian leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, "And as far as I'm concerned. You don't want to live. Do you? Answer me!"

Josiah was a little confused at this point, but started again to open his mouth. Again, he was cut off by Brian, "Nah, you don't. You really don't. What kind of respect to expect to gain with the attitude you have? Tuning the world out with your music when you don't want to hear the truth. This," Brian's voice raised as he picked up the MP3 player out of Josiah's lap, "is not going to save your life. This is not going to give you the power to save another life or make the right choices as a leader or follower. Nothing is. Except what you have here," Brian tapped Josiah's head, "And here," he finished with a poke at his mentee's heart.

Brian breathed in as if to let go whatever it was that allowed him to speak the way he just had. Silence filled the four-door black sedan with an air of stuffiness. Josiah's head hung low while Brian looked from the freshly graduated officer to the 2-6 precinct.

Without looking at Josiah, Brian started up again, "Your father wants you to help run the business. Why don't you want to do that?"

Josiah shrugged.

"Really? That's the best you got? I thought you knew what you wanted, yet, you can't tell me why you don't want? Yea, you're better off at Random Goodes with your family."

Josiah had reached his limit. He felt a large amount of respect for Brian for who he was to his father, Nathaniel, and who he was as a mentor when he was coming up i n the academy. At this point, Josiah almost felt like Brian was the big brother he never had. However, none of that mattered.

"Look at you! You think you have the right to tell me anything? You've got to be kidding me. Don't act like I dont why you're my mentor or any mentor in the first place! You got where you were because of groveling and a piecemeal redemption that still backfired on you! So what if you worked here! Did anything here! Since most of you left, this place has become something more than a passers-by precinct. A hangout spot for rejects that got the cases no one else wanted. I tell you what, I'll let you tell me something useful with the next statement you make and I won't think this ride was a complete waste of time.

Josiah started to wrap up his headphones while Brain watched in silence. The detective wasn't sure what he wanted to say, but knew that the string of emotions that may have usually been at a boiling point, was strangely calm. The most important part of what he was trying to do was keep Josiah's father's promise, but at this point he wasn't keeping up with his end of that promise.

When Josiah opened the car door to get out, Brian turned off the engine and got out as well. His 6 foot frame was covered by a large navy blue hooded sweatshirt and matching sweatpants. He had just finished a workout of boxing and running when he brought his mentee to the Two Six. His long brown hair was a lot shorter than it used to be. Now that he was working for the PPD again and in a position of authority, he wanted to reflect, once more, a disciplined image. His sideburns were cut just below the bottom of his ears and his hair was only about an inch long, evenly cropped on all sides. He looked as average as they came, regardless of his gymnast-like build. Probably the only thing that may have caused people to look twice at him would have been from his eyes. They were the color of emeralds.

"Josiah..." Brian watched as the 6'4" kid started to make his way to the station with his duffel bag.

"Tracy!" Brian called out after the boy using his first name. That made Josiah stop.

"Look, I'm not telling you what to do. Wouldn't dream of it. I'm no one's father. But what I do know is what's on the other side of that door. Doesn't matter what kind of paint job, or new plants, or how clean the bathrooms are now..."Brian sighed.

"Inside those doors is a life beyond your years. You've grown up seeing a lot living in a city of Heroes, but when you actually become a part of it, when you become what has come to be the ins and outs of this business, you learn that everything... not you, me, your family, the villains, and especially the heroes of this city are not what it seems on the news and papers."

Josiah turned his head slightly over his shoulders. Brian wasn't sure what may have been getting through. He knew kids were going to make their own decisions. Maybe it was time to let Josiah make his. Brian did the same thing when he was that age. The boy was twenty-two. In the eyes of society, he was a man. So perhaps it was time to be treated like one; even if he wasn't ready. Some people have to piss on the fence to know that it's electric.

"I'm not gonna tell you to be careful," Brian concluded, "But be careful."

And that was all he said. Josiah turned forward again and adjusted the bag in his hands while he walked into the precinct. The area was semi-bustling with activity. It wasn't something he wasn't used to. he had spent a considerable amount of time in police stations growing up because of his interest in how things worked. One man was going through some paperwork while speaking with someone who looked to be Colonel Mustard. Josiah had seen his picture at several other precincts, tacked to a wall like a missing persons report. "Have You Seen This Man" was in bold letters underneath the picture. Apparently, it was a running joke amongst all of the officers who knew him.

“Right. Has Steel asked for any—“

The radio squawked, interrupting Kasoh’s question, “2-6 hero personnel, report to briefing room Alpha, show starts in fifteen minutes.”

Kasoh raised two fingers to his eye patch and gave Mustard a halfhearted salute as he walked to the stairs on the left, going up to the second floor, where Briefing Room Alpha was.

Josiah stood quietly while the first man left. Then he stepped forward and placed his duffel bag on the floor next to him. When he looked up, Colonel Mustard was glaring at him wish disgust. A confused Josiah looked around the room as if to make sure he was the one being started at. When he looked back at Julius and pointed at himself, it was all the desk sergeant needed to go off.

"Are you breathing on my glass?" When he didn't get a response, he started up again, even louder and picked up a service pistol from underneath his desk.

Are YOU, breathing on my glass?!" The heavily modified M9 glared at Josiah like Mustard's extended third eye. An officer walked past with a stack of paperwork, stopped, stared and started walking again.

"Colonel's got himself another gun." Other officers looked up in Mustard's direction and then went back to what they were doing.

For a moment, Josiah thought he was holding his breath. He was sure of it. A quick check let him know that he was. Now he panicked a little because of his need to breathe. At the last second, he turned his head left and let out a big rush of air and breathed in deep. He stared at Colonel Mustard. Fear filled his eyes for seconds before he remembered the joke he had become at other precincts. The fear vanished and he bent over to open his bag and present his documentation for indoctrination.

"Josiah Goode. Reporting," Josiah slipped the manila folder under the small slit in the glass and waited.

Mustard glared with his best glare while examining the new recruit. Josiah was tall. Universities had written his father in earnest, trying to get him to play for their school. in addition to his height, Josiah was an all-star basketball player. He set several records during his four year stint in high school. It felt natural to him, just like dancing. It wasn't ironic that someone who practically had headphones attached to his ears, could move and groove with the best of them. From hip-hop to tap to breaking, he'd learned it all. At 220lbs, he wasn't lanky. He was well-proportioned, in shape, and could run a six minute mile. You'd never know it with his usual wardrobe of a designed t-shirt, baggy jeans and any various color-combination of Jordans. Josiah wasn't a fighter, but that didn't mean that he didn't know how to defend himself. His black hair had a basic cut hairstyle where his sides were tapered and clipper cut short to blend blended into the top which was which was held a neatly-trimmed set of waves. Josiah loved going to the barber shop. It was an every other week tradition.

Julius scoffed. For more than two reasons, but mainly because he knew his glare was no longer effective. He placed the gun back under his desk and scowled under his breath. Josiah could only catch a few words. Colonel Julius Mustard had mastered the art of mutter.

Once everything had been confirmed, processed, and signed, Josiah picked up his bag and left the desk.

"You report to Simms. Upstairs. Briefing Room Alpha," Mustard called out before the sound of unrecognizable words became distant with each step Josiah took.

Once inside the meeting room, Josiah set his bag down once again and immediately noticed the freakishly tall woman on the other side of the room. From top to bottom, she looked like something from a dream he'd had. More than once. It took everything in his cool not to keep staring or post what he'd just seen on a social networking site.

He finally noticed the rest of the room and realized where he was. The man with the eye patch sat towards the back while he noticed to others having a quieted conversation. He decided he'd rather wait until he was acknowledged before sitting down or doing anything else.

In the meantime...

Hello, woman from my dreams.

Josiah looked away and smiled.

I'm thinking that, with the new direction the Two Six could be going, the attitude and focus of the super powered and the police would be changed. I'm not sure that Kasoh was looking to continue the trend of what had been following in the previous seasons.

It does sound interesting. Not sure who I'd write in but if you (Kasoh) eventually post up an intro (given that you have enough proposed support to go through with it), I'm sure folks will flock to it as most have to a lot of the RP's.

You'll at least get the respect of a read through. I dont think there have been too many titles that folks have passed simply based on the "cover".

During one moment, the dome gave of an aura of immense pain as if every soul inside had screamed in union.

Darquios' eyes closed as a force of energy surrounded him. It emanated from the dome, but it felt as if there was something more.

Something living.

Darquios opened his eyes and listened to the sounds around him. There had been new arrivals. He gave an eye of acknowledgement to Paxtera and faced the rest of the camp.

Because Ceus had no eyes to speak of, it was hard to tell where she was looking, but pages turned on their own and her hands were busy working a small crystal.

"It seems to be a conglomeration of several energies, including magic and science. Such occurances are rare."

"It breathes. This dome. Whatever is in it or of it. It feels alive," Darquios spoke without a hint of emotion as he stood behind Ceus.

A silver-lined black GSX1300R slowed to a stop just outside the MAGI camp. Darquios removed a black helmet and gloves and placed them on the bike's seat. He was approached by one of the assistants to the division and given a manilla folder with documentation inside. He undid the zipper on his jacket to reveal a white velvet-like material that resembled a t-shirt. His pants were black jeans over black low cut sneakers.

Once Darquios had finished reading the paperwork inside the packet he was given, he gave it to a passing FBSA employee and focused on the dome. It wasn't like anything he'd seen before. Then again, at 24, there was a lot that he had yet to see.

He walked up beside a woman floating in the air, but kept a manageable distance from her. His eyes looked cautious and aware as he began to wait for something. Darquios wasn't sure what he was waiting to feel, sense, or see. This was his other half's area of expertise.

The art is not an art.

It is compliance.

Do not listen. Hear.

Do not will. Act.

Commit to one's true nature.

An opponent is an opportunity.

A true opponent is a means to an end.

A man, sitting indian style on the roof of a two story condo, opened his eyes to a knock at his door. The position of the sunlight told him that it was still early morning. He didn't move. He didn't blink. The sets of knocking happened a second time and in one fluid motion the meditating man pushed himself off the ground into a forward handspring off the roof of his home and somersaulted through the air. He landed softly behind his solicitor as if he stepped on a pillow, in a crouching position.

Standing straight, the athletically built male looked to be about 5'8 with jet black hair that ran down just past bottom of his neck. His skin was smooth, deeply toned and color of mocha. He had a pair of eyes that were neither blue nor brown. For now, they were colorless. When he spoke you could hear remnants of a Spanish accent, but it was rare. He'd worked hard to eliminate any forms of his past in order to never leave behind a trace of his presence.

The gentleman, who was wearing an ordinary black suit, stopped knocking and sighed. He fished a phone from his jacket pocket and dialed a number.

"Milos. Yea, Carter. He's not answering," he turned around to walk down the steps lined up to the front door, "I'm not gonna wast-"

"Milos, I'll call you back."

"What is it you want," the man's voice was calm, but insistent.

"Yes, Mr..." the Suit looked inside a file that had been in his hand, "Darquios. The FBSA's MAGI and ELITE divisions have combined certain efforts and compiled a list of names of registered heroes that match criteria for both divisions. Sort of killing two birds with one stone."

Darquios remained silent.

"Yes, well, since you were registered under ELITE before you manifested powers of dark magic and switched associations to MAGI, your name came up. So therefore I am here to request your-"

"Location."

"What's that? Oh, yes, it's right here," the Suit flipped through a few papers and found a card attached to a paperclip. He removed it and gave it to Darquios. Darquios walked past the Suit and up the stairs.

"They're already there. Well some. The setup is being done as we speak. They'll be expecting you."

Darquios stopped at the door, "Thank you." He opened the door and walked inside.

The Suit dialed the same number on his phone again, "Milos. Carter. I got him. He'll be there."

(("Magical Manifest Human" Five senses enhanced all-around. Has a sixth sense that he is still learning to deal with for identifying negative and positive energies. Carries a Tac-Belt with lots of surprises -I say surprises because I don't know what's in them yet- Dark magic powers, for now, have defensive purposes -clouding vision, providing grounds for cover, and also shrouding himself in darkness...a particular favorite of his. The powers were just recently obtained and so he uses his hand-to-hand, sensation, and perception training more often than not. Not big into conversation. ))

Before he could say anymore, a shot rang out and his chest exploded, spraying red mist across Arek's face. Panicking, the van's driver gripped the draconian's wrist and gurgled out something nonsensical as shock overcame him and he passed out.

Malachite's body immediately emitted a radiant green aura in his immediate vicinity. It was part reflex and part panic that did it. He hit the ground quickly and looked around to survey what had happened.

[ QUOTE ]
The wounded man would indeed not be dead, if Pax had anything to say about it. As a peacebringer she wasn't much of a healer, but she did have the ability to heal others in much the same way as she healed herself when needed, by use of her energy. Admittedly it wasn't that good on other people but it should be enough to keep the man alive until he could be given real medical attention.

[/ QUOTE ]

"Play a distraction, I got it," Malachite slid over to Pax and the wounded driver and placed two fingers on his neck and wrist. His pupils misted over and transitioned to being completely emerald-colored. He felt a search of energy flow from him and into the man's body where he was checking for signs of life. It served as a vitals tracker and cleared the dirver's mind so he wouldn't under so much stress from the pain. The chest wound was bad, but only seemed to really damage one lung. Once the energy came returned back to Malachite, he looked down at the man with normal eyes.

"Sir, can you hear me?" Malachite spoke durectly into the driver's ear, "If you can understand me, squeeze my hand."

Nothing happened for several seconds. The man just gurgled while blood continued to pour out of his mouth.

Come on...come on...

As if the driver heard him, he turned his wrist up to grab Malachite's hand and squeezed it.

"Yes! Ok, now listen. I'm going to help regenerate some of these damaged cells, but you're going to have to help me out. I need you on this."

The driver responded with several blinks and more bursts of blood-mixed saliva running down the side of his face. Malachite looked up at Pax and hoped that her and any other of her associates on the team could handle what was in front of him while he did this. Both hands surged with power and let off a warm and sharp sensation all ovr the driver's chest. Light green rays of power stuck out from the palms of Malachite's hands while he surfed over the top of the wounded man's chest. Slowly, some of the skin began to reform around the outside of the bullet's exit point. The hole started to close up and the bleeding lessened.

The Healer tookone hand and touched his ear and activated his comm device.

"I know you hear that. I've got a wounded civilian with an explosive chest wound. He may go into shock. I don't have the tools nor the capacity right now to deal with this. What ever was done to me when I was captive is taking me a while to get over. I need immediate extraction to the nearest medical facility."

While continuing the healing process, Malachite reached into this suit pocket and pulled out a small green diamond-shaped pin. He placed it in the driver's hand.

"Ready for extraction."

A transporter specialist spoke back to Malachite, "Extracting. Standby."

Malachite crawled backwards on his hands and knees while a flash of green light enveloped the driver and mediported him to the hospital.

"Follow me on Twitter!

@LordRecluse"

And now...

Arc Name: Child's Play

Arc ID:55661

Morality: Neutral

Faction: Bullies (Custom)

Difficulty Level: Crank up the diff for a real challenge. Although, I was told that it was "Very challenging" without cranking it up. Certain villains tend to get paired together and do cause some serious annoyance. 3 LTs, 2 Bosses (one named), and EB and a partridge in a pear tree...

Estimated Time to Play: 45-60 min, tops.

Synopsis: It was just your regular day at the playground...

**NOTE: Be sure to remember to check all villain character bios, clues, and popup windows upon entering and exiting missions. I mean... I don't claim to be the funniest dude, but amusement is something I like dabble in. You might even recognize yourself in some of them. Enjoy!

Malachite looked over Pax’s shoulders and swallowed hard. The pictures. He knew exactly where they were from. It was only by sheer fortunate luck (so he thought) that he hadn’t been given the same outcome. Someone was watching over him. He turned away as the memories attached to each picture became harder to bear.

He decided to try and take his mind off it all and scan the ground more for clues in order to refocus. A small half-melted caught Malachite’s attention. He bent down to retrieve it and examined it, doing a quick retinal scan of it’s contents. After turning it over a few times, he called out to the other Hero.

“Ever seen one of these? If it’s anything at all.”

((In transition mode... switching states. Gonna be another day or two before I get another post up. Bear with me, please...those that might be waiting for me.))

"I was kind of hoping Freedom Corps would offer more help than just people like... Well... You.”

Malachite couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of the previous conversation he had, “You’re not the only one. Where am I headed?

“Anyway, last I heard from the team I sent to Bronze Shield, they were headed for Skyway City..." Wong informed the green-suited hero.

Wong looked at his datapad and looked back at Malachite.

"...There are reports of a commotion in the southern portion of the city. Seems to be spilling out into the streets. You mind filling me in on what you saw before you go so I can warn anybody else who may come by?"

“Well as far as I could tell,” Malachite cleared his throat, “there was an explosion. A few of them. I could only tell from the holes in the wall and the ceiling. All of the men that held us hostage, far as I could tell, were some sort of cybernetic human being.

Wong raised an eyebrow. Malachite raised his hands in defense.

“I know, I thought the same thing too, had pale human skin and blood, but then... they were made of something else. Im not too sure. However, they weren’t the only problem. Either someone was playing the games of dark magic or the building itself was filled with some type of shadow form because tentacles started to rise from the ground and produce...” Malachite let the last word trail off.

“Produce,” the Hero Corps Informant asked impatiently

“Well, only guess I could give is ninjas.”

“Ninjas?”

Malachite nodded. “Ninjas. They were dressed somewhat in traditional garb from what you may see in movies. So anyway, now you’ve got pale-skinned cybermen in suits and shadow formed ninjas that are attacking the heroes. Oh, and some villains and other contract players were there too. Confused me at first, but then I was briefed that Crey employed them to prove their uninvolvement in all of this?”

“Correct,” Wong stated.

“Yea. Was able to identify a couple and there was one that stuck in my head that I’m sure I know but it’s just haven’t searched properly yet, but... afterwards, the van that carried the hostages left, the Cybers exploded and the ninjas vanished. Some chased after the van, but at that point whatever was keeping me there didn’t anymore and Brawler’s team ported me back to HQ.”


Wong placed his hands behind his back in military fashion. “Interesting. I’ll have to let newcomers know of this and report back to HQ myself. Have you spoken of this information with anyone else?”

“Just Back Alley Brawler and a few other key men. Took a statement, got vitals checked, debriefed and back in the game. And if there’s nothing else, I suppose I should report over to Skyway.” Malachite pressed on one of his emerald-gem cufflinks and the same green door appeared again.

“I just don’t get enough opportunities when there is a low enough threat to use this,” Malachite gave a quick nod and slipped through the green lit doorway.

****

Pax set the weapons aside, focusing instead on the wallet and cellphone. Wondering absently at the two identities - not uncommon but why would he carry both with him? - she flipped open the phone on the off chance that it was both in a working condition and not protected by passwords or other ultimately meaningless but still irritating security measures.

A quick flash of green light and a door-close later, Malachite stood behind Pax as she examined the equipment she’d found.

“Did I miss everything?” he asked as attention set on him.

“Pardon the intrusion. Was told an extra hand was welcome.” Or needed..

Malachite stuck out his hand and made eye contact with Pax and smiled. He was known for his sunny disposition when it came to curtain time.

“Special Agent Malachite. Here to assist. Hopefully I can be of some help.”

He studied the immediate perimeter and took notice of the weaponry that seemed to be left behind from whatever scuffle there had been earlier. He bent down to pick up the oddly constructed pistol and flipped it around in his hand.

“Very interesting piece. And weirdly enough, it looks very familiar to me. Just not sure from where though. Hmm...”

You painted a great picture.

A horizontal line of green light shined in front of Henry Wong. It expanded vertically to reveal an emerald-moulded door with a brass handle. A small aura of green illuminated the door as the knob turned and the slab swung open. Malachite stepped through from a white background and let the door close on its own. Once it did, the frame reduced itself back to the original thin green line and vanished.

Malachite nodded to Henry Wong and adjusted his forest green tie, that habit he had whenever he would arrive almost anywhere. It officiated him. The persona was on. The tie covered the buttons of a long-sleeve black dress shirt that all laid underneath a tailor-made suit the same color as the tie.

“Always green with you,” The Hero Corps informant shook Agent’s hand.

“Mr. Wong. It’s been a long time. Which is a good thing,” Malachite smiled.

“Yes, it is. Good to see ready so soon.” Henry Wong replied, “I assume you’ve read all the case files to include Bronze shield, Oakhammer, and Ripper Shredder?”

“I have. Data’s been uploaded,” Malachite tapped his temple, "Anything else you can tell me before I go? I left somewhat abruptly once that van disappeared. Apparently, whatever tech it held was what kept anyone from picking me up.”

"It's good to have you back," Back Alley Brawler drank coffee while he stared at Malachte. The Agent was leafing through case files in a private corner office at an undisclosed location.

Malachite, now clean and fresh cut in a pair of green sweats, t-shirt and running shoes, picked up his own mug as he read. It was herbal green tea. Fitting for a man named Malachite. He sipped it as he read the list of names of those missing in both The Rogue Isles and Paragon City. After a few minutes of absorbing all of the information, he looked up at his fellow Agent and friend.

"So what is our involvement in this?" His voice was surprisingly deep. Not Michael Clarke-Duncan deep, but down there.

"We have missing heroes. We need to bring them home. Period," The Brawler spoke like it was simpler than it actually was.

Malachite smiled and blew on his tea before taking another sip, "No, what is our involvement in this?"

The tank topped hero thought a moment and nodded in understanding.

"The one up top has put a pretty high priority on this. With Crimson and Indigo on heavy duty extraction detail, it's-"

"Come down to us." Malachite sighed.

"It's not like that," The Brawler tried to reason.

"Yes it is." Malachite calm and emotionless.

Brawler didn't respond for a second, "Ok, maybe it is."

Malachite moved his chair back from the table and started to stand.

"Wait. Grant wait," Brawler stood up first. He was rather spry for his large size. He didn't even bump the table as he moved.

Malachite ignored him and took him and his tea to the front door. Then he stopped once his hand grabbed the door handle. He shook his head, releasing a stifled laugh.

"You're lucky this tea is good."

Behind him Back Alley Brawler mischievously smiled, "Suit up."