Thetguay

Aside from PVP and certain AVs, the only things I've ever seen use Placate are specific Arachnos mobs. They love that crap, but even then it's really rare to see.

Does Taunt, or Gauntlet, even work on pets in PVP (excluding the -Range aspect, which I'd expect to work normally)?

What follows is the origin story (or the first part) for a character I made on Virtue just because I was amazed the name was still availible: Major Fox, Magic Origin Dual Blades/Willpower Scrapper. For her costume, she resembles a little bit of Wonder Woman and a little Steve Rogers. She stuck in my head a little, and this is what poured out instead.



Rebecca Fox was, to put it simply, annoyed. No. She was beyond annoyed. She was P.O.'d.

That was how she thought of it: P.O.'d. Not pissed off. She didn't get pissed off. She didn't get angry. She didn't have that liberty. If she tried, the men around her would just snicker when she turned her back, make a comment about why Fox was such a [censored], or chortle in a masculine manner about 'that-time-of-the-month'.

"Sergeant Wycowski?" She spoke the word a bit more sharply than she'd meant to, but at least she hadn't barked it at him like she'd wanted. The man, rather handsome in that Iowa farm boy way too many of these All-American wannabes had, trotted over and snapped off a salute, his face questioning. "Sergeant, why are those men moving that ordinance?"

"On route to Paragon City, Ma'am."

"Rhode Island? That's ridiculous. Why, exactly, do they need my battalion's firearms?" She squinted, wiping sweat drawn by desert sunlight from her brow.

"Following orders, Ma'am."

Fox huffed and dismissed the man. Her ordering him to stop wouldn't do any good; if they were moving that much weaponry, the orders came from higher than her. She didn't bother wasting her breath. Fine, she'd just need to check with Colonel Timms. It didn't seem right, shipping munitions and ammo FROM a military base abroad back stateside.

She didn't get ten feet down the hall before a private walked into her path, stopping her dead in her tracks. Anyone else might have avoided a fuming Major, but the private seemed oblivious. Fox opened her mouth to speak, but the young man beat her to the punch.

"Major? You have a phone call. A Vivian Fox."

Vivian Fox? Mother? Rebecca ground her teeth and stalked off to find the satphone she could use to take the call. Her mother should have known better; she'd set up specific times the woman was allowed to call, and none of them were scheduled when she was on Base.

When she picked up the phone and spoke into the receiver, she used the same voice she always used with her mother; annoyed, busy and suffering. "Yes, Mother?"

"You have to come home."

Rebecca let the words hang a moment, trying to give her mom a chance to further elaborate. When she didn't, Rebecca was forced to sigh and begin to make her excuses. "Mom, it's the middle of the week and, unless you missed the memo, I'm in Afghanistan! I can't just run off because you miss your little girl, or Dad and Grampa Jii are fighting again. Even right now, I'm in the middle of--"

"Your Grampa Jii is in the hospital." Rebecca's mother said, her voice, tinny and electronic through the phone line, effortlessly stopped Rebecca in her tracks. "The doctors say its cancer."

The phone hung limply in her fingers, her mother's words and continued explanations and plans lost against the shield of her own thoughts as she reflected to herself, 'I thought bad news was supposed to come on Mondays.'

-------------------

Grampa Jii was not, strictly speaking, Rebecca Fox's grandfather. She thought of him as her grandfather, but the name of his true relationship with her always managed to elude her. Grampa Jii was really her father's father's brother. Her Great Uncle, perhaps?

Anyway, Grampa Jii and his brother, Rebecca's real grandfather, Grandfather Jack, fought together in World War Two. They were in the same battalion and, as she grew up hearing Grampa Jii's stories, she felt she knew Grandfather Jack, even if she'd never met him. She knew the story of how Grandfather Jack had died, knew it like she'd been there. In fact, as a child, she'd had vivid dreams; she'd wake up, crying, sobbing that she hadn't been able to save Grandfather Jack again, telling Grampa Jii how sorry she was. But Grandfather Jack wasn't, to Rebecca, as real as Grampa Jii.

Grampa Jii had always been there. Every dance recital her mother had forced her to be in, Jii had sat in the audience. When she'd run for Student Council, at her father's insistence, Grandpa Jii had helped her make posters. It was Grampa Jii she wanted to make proud, running off to join the ROTC during college, against her parents' wishes, and gaining her commission after. If she'd had their permission and backing, she'd have gone to West Point. But they disagreed, as they had for every important event of her life, and she'd gone to the school they were willing to pay for. Grampa Jii, on the other hand, was who she thought of each time she'd gained a promotion, fighting tooth and nail to prove her worth every step of the way to becoming a Major. And she didn't plan to stop any time soon.

Grampa Jii, who had always seemed so vibrant, so full of life, lay in a hospital bed with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. This man, who had survived Nazi armies and so much else, betrayed by his own body as it ate itself and wasted away.

He was surrounded by extended family, myriad blood relations Rebecca knew mostly from stories; cousins and uncles and nephews. It was a tight fit in the small hospital room, so it seemed many of the wives and aunts and sisters had remained in the lobby. Rebecca had taken a place by his head, kneeling on the floor and offering him ice chips when he beckoned.

Grampa Jii took a long time, basking in the regard of his family as they discussed amongst themselves, before he spoke.

"I believe we all know why we're all here. I have certain objects which need to be disposed of, seen to the proper hands, before I pass on." Rebecca, in fact, knew nothing of the sort. It seemed rather morbid to have the dying man read his own will, but Jii never was one to do things in their proper order. The others in the room didn't seem to share Rebecca's failings; they knew and eagerly awaited what would come next.

Grampa Jii drew in a long, shuddering breath and continued, "I name Rebecca Jacqueline Fox my successor and bequeath upon her the Swords Chrysaor."

Though the words meant nothing to Rebecca, the room erupted into chaos; Rebecca's brothers and cousins shouted, pointing fingers and recriminations as her mother sobbed and broke down crying. Her father was the strongest, though, and his broke through if all with cold insistence, "You have no right! She's just--"

"I HAVE EVERY RIGHT!" Grampa Jii bellowed, instantly shutting down all the squabbles and grumbling in the room. Everyone went silent, turning to look at the frail old man who'd instantly shut them up as if he could take them each over his knee in turn.

"David," Jii glared as he spoke, a fire burning in his eyes that no war and no disease could ever kill, "You have fought me every step of the way your entire life, David, but you will not win this fight. Rebecca is my successor, and she is the only one among you I trust to protect these blades with her life."

"She still has to agree," one of Jii's sons said softly.

"And she won't!" David Fox insisted triumphantly. "She doesn't even know what you're asking of her!"

"And who's fault is that, David?!" Jii demanded as he placed his hands on his hospital mattress, shifting his feather weight forward with muscles being eaten by cancer, his elevated heart rate showing on the monitors around the room. "You're the one who refused to let me teach her!"

"I'm not about to lose--"

"I accept," Rebecca interrupted.

Her voice came so softly that, at first, only Jii and Rebecca's mother seemed to notice. So Rebecca furrowed her brow and said it again.

"I accept."

"Becca! Darlin'," her father said, kneeling next to her, "You don't want this. You don't know what you're agreeing to."

"It doesn't matter. Grampa Jii wants me to do this, so I will."

"To spite me," David Fox said harshly.

Rebecca merely shook her head and turned her eyes to look on Grampa Jii's wasted form, his eyes the only part of him that still seemed filled with life.

Life, and trust, and pride. Pride in her.

"Because of him."

"As it has been said and witnessed, let it be. Rebecca Jacqueline Fox is the wielder and protector of the Swords Chrysaor and is granted all the rights and protections that duty entails."

The room was silent a heartbeat longer before the shouts and recriminations began again; this time only Jii and Rebecca remained silent.

------------------------

Rebecca slipped away as soon as she could find a chance, and shut off her cellphone when it seemed they realized she'd left. Swords. Rights, protections. Duties. The family had jabbered on for hours until even Grampa Jii had fallen asleep. It was a long walk back to the hotel in Atlas Park, so she decided to jog the distance.

"What's your rush, Sweet Thing?" The crooning call came from an alley as she jogged past. Rebecca, no fool, didn't bother to slow down, ignoring the catcall until a handful of men, dressed in black leather and red stepped out in her path.

She drew up short, muscles tensed. Three ahead, two behind. Her hand went for her gun, only to mumble an oath when she recalled she was stateside, and in her civvies. She wasn't carrying a weapon.

"Gentlemen, if you're looking for money," she raised her hands to show them, empty, at the cluster of men. "No purse."

"There's always other things we can do," one said with a wide grin. "Wanna be a Hellion Girlfriend?"

Fox's nose wrinkled. "The idea does not appeal." So saying, she spoke another single word, flinging a silver-blue light at the 'Hellion'. An apprentice charm. Grampa Jii, a man of his word, abided by her father's rules that she not be taught magic, but that didn't mean he'd let his granddaughter go without making sure she'd learned to defend herself almost as soon as she could read. Rebecca turned and ran, her sneakers hitting the asphalt before she even knew if her spell hit or not.

She counted off the seconds the surprise gave her, each one meaning more yards put between her and them before they began to give chase. Four, five. Better than she'd expected. The cry went up, hoots and hollers followed, and they were after her.

Rebecca weighed her options. She could run down the street, level and even, and hope a hero spotted her before they could overtake her; this was Paragon City. Things like that happen there. Or she could dive into the alleyways, try to lose them; divide and conquer. But not only did that make it less likely she'd be seen by any potential rescuers, and she wasn't too proud to admit she could use one, but they were locals, they'd know the alleys better than she would. So, option three: make them earn it.

She ran towards the sidewalk, scrambling around the corner of the building to leap and climb up a fire escape, launching herself as quickly as she could for the rooftops. A grin came to her lips as she saw them below, sending some off around the other side of the building as a few tried to climb the fire escape and chase after. They could barely reach it; more time. She read the skyline and took off across the rooftops, leaping over the gaps between them with minimal effort. Those miles she'd been running were beginning to pay off.

Fox didn't banter back at them, controlling her breathing for the exertion ahead, and, soon, the Hellions stopped cursing and catcalling after her at all. Instead, they doggedly gave chase across the rooftops, and along the streets as best they could. Running out of usable roof space, Rebecca knew she'd have to find a way to end the chase soon. 'Why,' she wondered, 'is there never a hero around when you need one?'

She ran another direction, sending the street pursuers down an alley, and doubled back. Diving off the rooftop, Rebecca's hands caught at the frame of an awning, using it to swing down and drive herself down on top of one of the Hellions, her knees slamming hard into his back to cushion her own landing. She snatched up his baseball bat as he went down, bouncing back to her feet and swinging it, two-handed, into the stomach of another. As he doubled over, she brought the bat down with a solid 'thwock!' sound on the back of his head. She took a moment to be sure she hadn't cracked his skull and took off again.

"C'mon, c'mon..." She panted, beginning to feel the exertion of the evening, the running and the fear and the worry for Grampa Jii. She'd never felt more tired in her life, but she couldn't stop. God only knew what they'd do if they caught her after all she'd done. Killing her would be too easy.

That was when the catcalls started up again; she could hear them, between the buildings. She ran, feeling like she was trapped in a maze, running this way and that.

It was only when she saw the man in the demonface mask that she knew she'd been herded.

"Hey, Babe. Name's Burnscar." There was an inrush of air as flames snapped into existance around the masked man's hands and Rebecca threw herself to the side just in time to avoid being barbecued by a gout of flames from his fingertips.

"I'll be sure to remember it," she said between panting gasps for air, glad for the existence of the guy who owned all the dumpsters in Paragon City. A chorus of chuckles came from the Hellions in the shadows; they'd watch Burnscar have his fun, get their revenge for them.

"You caused my boys a lot of trouble tonight," Burnscar said amicably as he walked towards her, getting ready to throw another round of flares. Or maybe he'd breathe fire on her; he hadn't decided yet. "You gots to pay the piper, Baby. Way of the world."

"Can't say as I much like your world!" Rebecca dove out of her cover, throwing the bat at the Damned and running away down the alley. Burnscar snapped up her bat in one hand, incinerating it as he raised his other to raise the temperature around them, paper around the escaping woman bursting into flame and driving her to stop.

"Neither do I, baby. That's why I'm fixing to change the whole shebang. Once me and my crew summon a powerful enough demon, we're gonna change the whole world."

"I don't suppose you could try an Adopt-a-Highway program instead?" Sighing, finding it harder to breathe in the increased heat, Rebecca remembered what she knew about the Hellions. They supposedly claimed Atlas Park as their territory, and she'd always wondered how they could manage to hold an area frequented by so many heroes and police and lawmakers. Now she knew. Ferocity. Tenacity. Numbers - prodigious numbers - and more than a little demonic backing.

"You should join us. Seems like you got a little bit of mojo going on yourself, if my boys tell me true."

Rebecca leaned against the wall, the heat getting to her. "W-why?"

"Why join us?" The Damned seemed confused a moment. "We're gonna change the world, Baby. Also, probably kill you if you don't."

"N-no... I mean, why did Grampa Jii and Grandfather Jack get to fight Nazis, real evil, and I'm stuck with a dime store demon-worshipping Machiavelli?"

Burnscar was silent a moment. "That's a no, then?"

"My soul has a previous engagement, I'm afraid," she surreptitiously spoke the spell word to cast her charm again, and threw it. Burnscar's hand swept up, intending to catch and burn the small object, but it landed on his palm, unaffected by the demonic flames, and burned against his flesh. He cried out, and Rebecca took that moment to rush the distance between them, golden swords appearing in her hands as she came closer. Like magic.

She hadn't wanted to use the swords; she'd known how to call on them from the moment she'd accepted their power and responsibility. She'd thought to protect them by keeping them hidden. It didn't seem she could manage that anymore. She swiped one blade across each of his arms; painful, yes, but not enough to kill. Power hummed along her arms and the swords struck with unnatural skill and precision, though Rebecca had never touched them before.

With a flurry of flashing golden blades, Burnscar was laid low. Rebecca turned, waiting for the others to come at her from the shadows, but they'd fled long before she'd finished with their boss. She willed the blades away again and the Swords Chrysaor did as their protector desired. Tired and drained, Rebecca leaned against the wall and pulled out her cellphone. She turned it on, called the Paragon Police Department, then hid herself in a dumpster to nap until the authorities arrived.

---------------------

Rebecca Fox sat in a cell in the Kings Row jail for nearly two hours before anyone came for her. She'd been found in a dumpster, questioned and detained for "unlawful heroing" or some such nonsense. Saving her life using a mystical artifact bound to her soul was illegal now? Unusual, sure, maybe, but illegal?

She was taken to a conference room and given a cup of coffee. She asked if she could have her shoes back because her feet were cold, but the officer on duty shrugged and asked if extra sugar would be acceptable. Rebecca said it was and, for a moment, contemplated building new shoes, paper shoes, out of sugar packets. Around then was when a man in a US Army uniform and General's epaulets walked in.

Fox stood at attention, out of long habit, and tried to snap a salute, but her hands were cuffed to the conference table.

"At ease, Fox. General Jackson. Quite a pickle you've landed yourself in." Jackson was a tall man, barrel-chested and shaved to a smooth, shining baldness. Rebecca, in some small part of her mind, wondered if she, were she to stand behind him, would be able to see her reflection in his chocolate brown skin.

"I didn't do anything, sir! I was just defending myself!"

"With a... magical sword, was it?"

"Well, yes, sort of."

"Mm. I see. Well. Not to worry, Major. All this can be settled quite easily." He pulled out a folder, opening it and sliding it over the table to Rebecca. "Just sign here, here, and initial here."

Her eyes scanned the paper as she picked up a pen. She was halfway through the first signature when she thought to read what she was signing.

"Hero's license, sir?" She boggled, looking up to the General.

"Right. You sign that, no more worries with illegal heroing."

Rebecca thought that sounded more than fair and signed twice, initialing where indicated.

"Good," General Jackson said, taking the paper back from her. "You'll report for reassignment at my office tomorrow morning."

"Reassignment?!" Rebecca spluttered.

"Of course. You're the property of the US Army, and a registered superhero. We're going to put you to work, Major."

Wow. Can't even say how much I dug this one. Too good.

--- Issue 3 ---

Major Fox was on her feet in a heartbeat, all thoughts of remorse pushed out of her head by the sight of the pulsing green light filling each of the windows and doorways of the emergency ward. Not right. She barked an order, "Doors," and Whirlpool Wind was on his feet and moving. Each door and window, every surface, seemed painted by the light. Each resisted exit, sealing off the entire floor. He was back at Fox's side in moments, a shake of his head her answer.

"But," he added, after a hesitant moments' thought, "I didn't see hide nor hair of our bad guy, so he must still be outside."

"Yet," Doctor Fission said as he created and walked through a doorway, opening the green barrier like a curtain to close behind him. He strode into the room, driving everyone onto their feet and into a panic. "I had to go change my clothes. I do hope I didn't miss anything."

"What do you think you're doing?!" Fox demanded, circling the energy bubble protecting Fission, darting and testing his defenses, trying to keep his attention.

"I do believe the heroes call it 'Turtling'."

"HERE, Fission! What are you doing HERE!"

"That's Doctor Fission, if you please. I do have several Ph.D.s. I'm here to pick up my test subjects," Fission spoke magnanimously. He was, after all, doing them a great favor by not simply killing them and taking what he wanted. "And, just to show I'm not a fool to think I'll let you sucker me into any fights or delays..."

Instantly, the lights and power went out throughout the hospital. Just as Doctor Fission had planned. A chorus of shouts went off throughout the hospital as surgeons were left in the dark, incubators and oxygen machines ceased working and even the cellphones cut out. Those in the emergency room merely tried to run further towards the otherside of the room, away from the supervillain.

"Further penalties will be levied, should you continue to delay my access to my research subjects. I thank you, doctors, for the medical services you have supplied to my experiment, however your assistance is no longer required. I will see to it you are paid the fees for your services. Do we have an understanding?"

Whirlpool Wind reached out and grabbed the two nearest civilians: Rebecca Brinell and Daitan Walker. He was fast, he could get all the civvies out while Fox kept him in that silly field of his. He made it twenty feet, three-quarters of the way to the exit, away from Fission, carrying 300 pounds of confused human deadweight before Fission even noticed him moving. His armor compensated for speed and, with noise something like 'Zrrt!', fired a beam of energy directly through his force field. Wind couldn't outrun the blast, he knew that, and he couldn't use his powers to deflect a beam like that... But he couldn't risk one of the civilians getting hit. He threw them down, away from Doctor Fission, cushioning their landing with his wind powers even as the blast hit him in the stomach, stopping him midstep and throwing him back into a window.

Even the impact of his body did nothing to affect the green energy surrounding the exits.

There was silence for a moment. Then Doctor Fission shrugged, "Did I not just warn you there would be further penalties? Give it up. You have no chance, I win. Hooray for me. Now give me my prize, already, and I can be on my way. Everyone else can go back to their business."

Dai crawled over to the blasted speedster, trying to drag him to cover. It was easier that he'd have thought; or was he stronger? He didn't think about it, instead pressing one hand to the wound to staunch the bleeding and straining the other to find some sort of bandage or cloth or magazine to use.

"Oh, but I saw it," Fox spoke slowly, her voice and countenance severe. "Your force field weakened when you fired at Wind. If you fire that fancy gun of yours again, it'll weaken further and I'll break through it the second that happens, Fission, I guarantee it. So go ahead," she laughed, darting straight for him, her enchanted sword held high to bring it down against his armor, "Shoot me already."

The terrified injured huddled against the back wall of the emergency room, watching Major Fox take no ground against Doctor Fission; like arguing with a brick wall. Dai was pale, a cold sweat covering his skin, his hands shivering each time he took his attention from keeping them still, from keeping them pressed against Whirlpool Wind's bleeding abdomen. A hand reached out, pressing on top of his.

"Don't be afraid," Wind spoke shakily, the calluses of his hand noticeable through his gloves. Dai opened his mouth to reply, to say he wasn't afraid, to lie through his chattering teeth. "Don't worry. We've been in worse scrapes before..."

But Dai didn't see how things could get much worse.

"You should really give up." Fission said, trying to sound bored to hide his annoyance. "You'll never get through my field. Eventually you will tire, and then? Then I will kill you and take what I want anyway."

"Forever Man died trying to save these people!" Major Fox shouted, her blade flashing again and again against the villain's energy field. "How can you expect me to do any less?"

Dai's vision went blurry and it took him a moment to realize his eyes were damp, brimming with tears. Everyone was so afraid, their situation was so dire, and yet... At least two people kept fighting. They'd keep fighting so long as they drew breath. He closed his eyes tight, the fight superimposed on his eyelids: Fox's bright form filled with hope and thoughts of revenge striking over and over at the humanoid darkness before her; Wind bleeding out in his lap, still optimistic; the injured crowd to his back, filled with terror and worry and wondering if they'd ever see their families again.

He opened his eyes, unable to wipe away the tears distorting his vision thanks to the blood staining his hands, and glared at Doctor Fission. Monster. Villain. Terrorist. He hurled impotent, silent insults and invectives, not daring to draw the madman's attention by speaking aloud.

Suddenly, everything seemed to change. Fox was gaining ground, her strikes sending Fission stepping backwards under the impact of each blow, but Fission... Fission's eyes were on the crowd. Scanning the faces. Terror. Fear. Pleading. Everything he'd expect... Except for one. The bad Doctor managed to speak in a small voice, "What are you doing? What..."

"Horrible. Monster. Villain," Dai was speaking now, a steady staccato litany. "[censored]! Petty! Small! A nothing, committing atrocities!" Doctor Fission had stopped moving away from Fox, his field backing up against the wall, pinning him beneath her futile onslaught.

"I see you..." Fission mumbled. The paint on the wall behind him began to crack under the force.

"And I see you, Holland." Dai slid carefully out from under Whirlpool Wind, climbing to his feet and resting the wounded man against Rebecca.

Wind's hand tugged at Dai's shirt, worry filling the speedster's eyes. "No!" He hissed. "Get down, let the Major handle this!" Dai brushed the hand away, Wind too weak with blood loss to stop him.

"You deserve to pay. I'll MAKE you pay!" With a force of will he hadn't possessed moments prior, with abilities he hadn't had twenty-four hours before, Daitan Walker threw the full force of his psyche at the ill-prepared Doctor Fission; Dai's mind a thing of claws and rage and retribution. A scream cut the air and, with a grim efficiency, Dai severed the connections in the mad scientist's mind that made him capable of any such vocalizations.

He barely heard it, but a voice cut in on his rampage. "Stop it! Kid, stop it!"

Kid. Forever Man had called him 'kid,' once. Dai's teeth set and his mind ran deeper.

"Don't do this!" The voice again, distracting him from what had to be done.

"He has to be stopped." Dai managed to say, his gaze distant as Doctor Fission thrashed on the floor, still encapsulated within his force field. "I'm doing what must be done. He has to die."

Major Fox's voice rang in his ear, clear as day, "But will you be able to live with yourself when you're done?!"

All at once, Fission's thrashing and silent screaming came to an end, his body curling into the fetal position like a worm shriveling on the sidewalk in the sun. The silence that followed was deafening: the building still had no power and no one moved, no one spoke.

Major Fox was the first one to recover, rushing to Whirlpool Wind's side. Daitan stood a few feet to the side, not daring to move, feeling the fearful eyes of the injured on his back. Stray thoughts rippled across his mind, picked up by accident. He steeled his spine and nodded to himself, walking with confident steps to Fission's protective bubble. Fox's breath hitched, and she made to stop the young man when Wind stopped her with a small shake of his head.

Dai focused for a moment, sheathing his arm in shimmering violet; a gauntlet of thought. He clenched his hand into a fist and drew back to slam into the shield as hard as he could, shattering it with an audible noise. Calmly, quietly, he stripped the man of his armor's power source, which was rather obvious, and felt rather than heard the relief of the people as they surged to their feet and ran, walked, limped and hobbled to the emergency exits.

Doctor Fission's breathing was shallow and his eyes moved beneath the lids. REM, Major Fox assumed. She found herself hoping he was having some very bad dreams. Dai knew he was, but it gave little comfort. Leaving Whirlpool Wind and Major Fox with the EMTs and doctors, Rebecca Brinell joined Daitan before he could run away, which, judging by how he'd been watching the police and officials, he'd probably been seriously contemplating.

"You probably just saved all of our lives, you know."

"I nearly killed a man to do it."

"But you didn't."

"But I wanted to. God help me, I still do."

She held up a small piece of paper. "My card," she explained. "You should come by SERAPH. Not as a guinea pig, I promise." Dai didn't respond, so she pressed the card into his hand. "The world's going to need a new Forever Man."

Dai's head snapped up, horror in his features. "That's not funny."

"It's not meant to be. Forever Man and The Raptor were great men, but they're gone. It'll take quite a few good, brave people to fill those shoes. Maybe you're not Forever Man... Yet. But you might be, some time." Dai nodded numbly and shoved her card into a pocket

"Hm," he mumbled to himself, fingering the card. "Sometime, huh?"

--- Issue 2 ---

The world was enveloped in light. Blinding. Searing. I felt everything, until I felt nothing at all.

The final toll was 34 lives. Numerous wounded. People here and here, up to city blocks away, were affected by the blast as it rippled outwards and the streets wound up becoming choked with emergency services vehicles and Empaths trying to make it to the scene.

"Take a look at this one. Remarkable recovery."

Among the dead, Forever Man, the golden sentinel, and The Raptor, martial artist extraordinaire. Both turned into a fine yellow soup by the detonation. I know; I saw.

"Can we get his blood work rushed?"

They won't find Doctor Fission. He probably managed to escape, if he wasn't incinerated by his own blast. I doubt it, but I can always hope. The [censored].

"Blood work? I think perhaps we'd better contact SERAPH. They're better trained to handle things like this."

I heard voices in the dark. No one I knew. The smell of burning and pain eventually gave way to the sterile air that told me I'd been taken to a hospital. How do they expect people to get better when everything smells so dead? Even a little Febreeze would be a welcome touch.

I didn't move. Everything hurt. I let the world roll over me, my mind working as the doctors did their thing. 'Things like this.' 'SERAPH.' Those worried me, somewhere inside. I could feel it roiling in the pit of my stomach, in the back of my mind. But maybe, I thought, maybe that's a scalpel or something, digging around as they perform some surgery. I can't open my eyes and I can't respond and with the clarity of the insane, I wonder if I'm really experiencing any of this.

And I wondered, is this what a coma is like?

Or death?

--------------------------------------

Rebecca Brinell sipped her coffee as she shuffled around the files on her desk. More of those zombie sightings. She'd send out some heroes to deal with it later. There wasn't much else to have them do, other than the visit the Galaxy Girl statue or beat up on the many Hellions infesting the area or, maybe, earn herself a little commission by sending them to talk to the Hero Corps folk.

The phone rang and drew her from her reverie. She answered it sullenly, visions of dollar signs still dancing in her head.

"Dr. Brinell? Hello, I work at the Lagrange Medical Center. We have a little conundrum here and we could use a little help..."

Rebecca listened quietly and did her best not to drool over the prospect of the sort of funding this incident could supply for SERAPH.

--------------------------------------

At that time, the emergency room of the Lagrange Medical Center was hopping; most of the victims of the Acceleration Device had been taken there. Whirlpool Wind sat with his remaining teammate, Major Fox, who'd just finished having her arm placed in a sling. The doctors had told her she'd probably need a cast, but they couldn't get her to an x-ray machine until triage conditions were over.

Neither had spoken, drained physically and emotionally as they were.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Wind finally spoke, his voice soft and cautious. Fox had been known to hit him for his, what had she called it? 'Lack of tact and decency.'

"Nothing to talk about."

"Forever Man and The Raptor are nothing?"

"You know that's not what I meant!" She snapped. Several people nearby turned to look at the costumed woman shouting in the hospital and she shot them a sheepish, apologetic smile. She looked back to Whirlpool Wind and sniffed. "I'm not going to talk about them here. Not now. Not like this."

Wind nodded, sufficiently abashed. She didn't want to show emotion now, in front of all these people. He put his arm around her shoulder, playing the comforting presence, and she nestled into the crook of his arm to let him.

Not more than five minutes later, the front of Whirlpool Wind's spandex costume was stained with tears that fell in silence from two sets of eyes.

--------------------------------------

"From what we could discover, this one's name is Daitan Walker. Distance was approximately 20 yards from the detonation, being carried away by Whirlpool Wind at the time."

"And he's still unconscious?" Rebecca looked to the doctor filling her in before looking over the results of the boy's imaging results.

"Actually, his body's already almost entirely recovered from the explosion. We're keeping him sedated."

"And that's working?"

"Barely. The explosion triggered some sort of effect..." The doctor sounds cheerful about this. "Well, the short version is that, his body? Every organ in it, they've been... advanced."

"Advanced." Doctor Brinell sighed, wishing the doctor would get to the pay off. "How so?"

"I mean, evolutionarily. According to my research, his body, his brain, his results - even unconscious - put him around on par with, oh, ten thousand years of spontaneous evolution. Assuming his, ah, psyche survived intact, this young man should wake up with abilities we could spend decades exploring."

"You are sure it's the same person, aren't you? No temporal or dimensional variances? Good. What about the other victims?"

"My guess? Similarly evolved... or de-evolved."

"They evolved to death?"

"Essentially."

"You should have the others moved. Keep anyone showing any effects separate and in quarantine."

"Most of them are still in the ECU, or the Emergency Room."

"Do what you can." He nodded, rushing off to follow the woman's orders, as she turned back to face the young man in the medical bed, strapped in and peaceful.

"You know..." Doctor Rebecca Brinell said at last, "I have known far too many injured heroes not to know when someone in a hospital bed is faking. You can get up now."

Daitan Walker sighed and opened his eyes, turning them to gaze with undisguised worry and exhaustion on Dr. Brinell.

"Well, Mister Walker. What do we do with you now?" She strode further into the room, looking like she belonged there with her pale skin, labcoat and blonde hair blending into the sterile eggshell-white testing environment. "You're still human. On our projected evolutionary chain, you've been advanced, evolved, to the tune of several thousand decades, you are now what [censored] Sapiens should become, given time. We estimate you'll have a few new talents, but we have no idea what sort and you'll have a rather significant limitation: your skill with your talents is far less that what it would be if you were born with these powers naturally. Not to mention we have no idea of your limits and limitations; I don't know about you, but I've never seen a human from 10,000 years in the future. We're doing a lot of guesswork here."

He stared at her blankly for a moment, letting her words soak in. "And your superpower would be... Exposition, right?"

She smiled. "Something like that."

"I just want to know what happened." That's right, he thought. Be resolute and certain. That'll keep her from noticing you're wearing an [censored]-less paper smock instead of clothes under this stupid medical blanket. Just like that, he could feel his whole head turning red. Stupid train of thought.

Rebecca, however, didn't seem to notice his sudden discomfort and shook her head. "It's too soon. You've gone through a lot of changes, you need to sit still and acclimate."

"I've been sitting still for too long." Daitan was fully aware how ridiculous that sounded, how big a lie it was. Just sitting up made his brain want to explode and it was all he could do to keep from whimpering in remembered pain. "What happened?"

"Major Fox and Whirlpool Wind are still alive. The Raptor and Forever Man appear to have been killed instantly. Initial fatality count is 30-plus."

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, especially about Forever Man and The Raptor; they'd died trying to save him and the others. Dai took a moment to collect himself before he realized she'd stopped talking.

"Who are you, then?"

"Oh, yes. Rebecca Brinell, SERAPH." At his blank look, she clarified, "Scientific Experimentation Research and Application to Paranormal Humans."

"Experimentation?! Research?! That's a horrible name! I'm no guinea pig!"

"Calm down. Some amazing things have happened to you. We have to run some tests to determine the extent--" She cut off, her face turned towards the window and, suddenly, cast in an eerie green light. Dai turned his head, seeing the window covered in some kind of opaque energy field. His eyes widened and his head snapped back to Rebecca, sending his vision spinning again.

Still, he managed to speak: "He's here."

I wanted to try my had at a little fan-fiction, my first for CoH. It seems to have run a little long, so I'm breaking into a few parts. With any luck, it seems sufficiently comicbook-y. The hero names were chosen basically at random, so sorry if I somehow used your character's name. XD

I'll post the next part if there's any interest... Ah, heck, who am I kidding? I'll probably post it without any interest. Man, that's sad. Anyway! Comments, critiques, death threats and Cease-and-Desist notices are all welcome and invited.


--- Issue 1 ---

I heard a bang and my first thought was, 'Oh, God, this crazy villain in the neon green spandex has actually shot someone.' But no, these sorts don't really use guns. They're more apt to use concentrated beams of nuclear radiation or gauntlets-that-shoot-fire. The bang was really a boom that was followed shortly thereafter by a crack as they crashed through the ceiling, covering the floor with chunks of plaster and rubble.

The Challengers of Infinity! The Raptor, Whirlpool Wind, Major Fox and Forever Man.

Their arrival was devastating, like they'd planned it, like one of those splash pages in the comics they sell. It's funny. Until that moment, I'd always thought everything in those books was written to make the tight-wearers look better to the public.

"You've stooped awfully low this time, Doctor Fission! Robbing banks? Taking hostages? I thought you outgrew this a decade ago." Forever Man, flowing blonde hair, gold costume, backlit by the sun streaming in through the ceiling he'd just turned into a skylight with his own hands.

"Not just robbing banks, Clowns! Setting up for my next experiment. You should know by now, I always have a way of killing multiple birds with one stone. And you lot happen to be in the way, so I'll thank you all kindly to leave." Doctor Fission had swung around then, to face the heroes, a blaster back in his hands faster than I'd have thought possible. A spray of blasts sent the heroes scattering for cover at Major Fox's shouted command.

Even as they dodged, I felt I'd never been so happy to see a cape, or group of them, in my life. I could nearly see the tension go out of my fellow hostages, so relieved even if we hadn't, technically, been saved yet. Fission had us held in place with some sort of gummi rope, a pale green gunk that made my skin itch.

"Experiments?" Whirlpool Wind asked, using his superspeed to dodge the energy bolts effortlessly. I'd like to say his words echoed my own thoughts, but truth is I was too overwhelmed and frightened to think much of anything.

"Keep him off-balance!" Major Fox shouted, her enchanted sword flashing through the air as she kicked over that little table you use to fill out your withdrawal and deposit slips, creating cover for The Raptor to dive safely behind. Just in the nick of time, too, as the deadly beams melted the glass in the wall behind where cowled warrior had just been.

"Easy for you to say, Boss Lady," The Raptor growled, "I'm sure you and Forever Man have a plan. Letting us mere mortals in on it soon might be a good idea, too."

"Get the hostages out of here," Forever Man ordered confidently, flying fast at Doctor Fission, his mighty hands curled into tight fists. "Holland and I have some things to discuss."

"You will show me respect, Forever Man! I am Doctor Fission! I will be the salvation of mankind, and you fools will not stop me in my task!" Forever Man was in motion as the villain ranted, dodging each blast of red energy. Whirlpool Wind was already zipping in and out, a hostage or two in his arms each trip. I couldn't help thinking, 'He's not fast enough. Why is he not faster?'

"Salvation?" Whirlpool Wind said, his words seamless even as he ran in and out and in again. "What twisted plans did you have for these people?"

"You call me twisted, Whirlpool Wind? You? If that's not hypocrisy, I don't know what is." I didn't know what he was talking about, but Whirlpool Wind sure did. He tripped. Stumbled. He glowered at Doctor Fission but zipped away again when the villain took aim at him with his shiny blaster.

"Now, where was I? Ah, yes, shooting Wind's companions in the face." He turned again, just in time to catch The Raptor's knuckles square on the jaw. Somehow, he'd snuck up on Doctor Fission in the time it had taken him to aim at the superspeeder. I couldn't help but cheer. The good guys looked to be winning and only a handful of hostages were still tied down.

But, of course, I was a little premature. These people don't ever go down with just one hit, even if it is a punch from one of the world's finest martial artists.

"I long for the days when you men all had glass jaws," Major Fox said exasperatedly, leaving the hostages she'd just cut loose to run out on their own as she lunged at Doctor Fission.

"And I long for the days when you were vulnerable to my Mindscrambler." Fission replied dryly, activating a field of green energy that shut down both Major Fox and The Raptor. "But I, at least, can adapt," he said as he gave this smug little smirk, watching their bodies fall to the ground, smoking slightly.

"Alright then, Holland. Looks like it's just you and me, now." Forever Man landed, striding towards Doctor Fission.

"Not quite, Forever Man. You, me, my Acceleration Device and, of course, my hostages - you always did forget about the little people, Forever Man." With those words, he pulled out the device, a small metal cylinder with a tiny red button on the top.

Forever Man looked at me then, looked me right in the eyes, and he smiled and said, "Don't worry, kid. Everything will be fine."

What came next happened like a blur. Whirlpool Wind zipped back in, ran over to me and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. He dragged me behind him, his speed enough to keep me from touching the ground. I had a perfect view for what came next, as Doctor Fission smiled... and pressed the button.

I've woken up every night for the last week with his last words ringing in my ears...

"I always did want to make a liar out of you, Forever Man."

Wait... That was only in the top three? That was so awesome, I'd stab my grandmother to see the other two that rate with it.

I was chuckling until I saw "Dark Helmet" and I remembered where that was from. Then I literally fell out of my chair laughing.

Okay, okay, let me try one... A few months ago, some friends and I came upon a phrase that, when uttered, was pure comedy gold. It works for anyone, at any time, in any place.

See for yourself.

I play in a new Street Gang based Villain Group on Protector, "The Fugitives", and of course everyone's favorite Heroic Catholic School, "Saint Joseph School" on Infinity.

Anyone who wants to roleplay, hit me up anytime: @Captain Drunken

[ QUOTE ]
A question: does anyone know if the AV's can be buffed and healed by their faction? This could lead to the epic PvP battles many want, forcing us to balance fighting each other as well managing the AV.

[/ QUOTE ]"Quick, Statesman, over here! Gather for buffs!"

This would be awesome... I want new badges, JUST for buffing/healing specific Signature Heroes/Villains. I can see it now, "Recluse's Servant" and "Statesman's Sidekick" or something... Hehe.

So... Any Exploration Badges found yet? Villains with Top Dog, anything? }=D

[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]


Nemesis: Nemesis are also intending to replace people, slowly, with their new, incredibly realistic automatons. Sadly, they're starting with you and the technician who indirectly caused this situation, Grant Naylor.



[/ QUOTE ]

Did 2nd Technician Grant Naylor cause this situation by failing to properly seal the drive plate resulting in a radiation leak?

Smeg! That means my cat is gonna procreate, mutate and then where expensive gaudy clothes doesn't it?

[/ QUOTE ]I don't think anyone else got that.

Next new PVP zone should be Bedford Falls, I think.

"Soon... Soon my ultimate plan shall come to fruition. And then, that blasted Easter Bunny shall rue the day he did not give Lord Recluse enough marshmallow Peeps!"

"Quick! Order my minions to stop fighting, immediately! Defensive maneuvers only, from now on! ...I heard Masterminds were getting a new Bodyguard buff and I want you guys to just soak my damage from now on, okay?"

This was so nifty, I can't help but post my own Description. My character, Captain Drunken, could best be described as "semi-RP" in that, while I do RP as much as possible, the character is so ridiculous and off-the-wall it's hard to do.

Anyway, without further ado:

Bio: Involved in a bizarre accident at a young age, Captain Drunken was doused in contaminated vodka, bombarded by alcoholic rays, gifted with a magic ring by the aliens of Jd, injected with the Super Corona Formula, empowered by the Wizard JAGER, bitten by a radioactive beer bottle and involved in a Jello Shot storm. All at the same time. When he found out that none of these accidents gave him any powers at all, he was so upset that he drank himself into a stupor and woke up as Captain Drunken, Gaian Defender.

Powers: Drunken stamina, blitzed strength, inebriated speed, immunity to most toxins, resistance to reality. While his powers are commonly accepted to be alcohol based, only an idiot would name themselves after the source of their powers... right?