There are two natures of man. Oh, and women, I suppose, fall into the same category. Well, all creatures do, to some extent, fall into these two categories. There is the biological, and the rational. I suppose creatures like cats are just like us with the rational portions of their brains turned way down low. Alfred Wincott took a tiny sip of water as he looked across the crowd before setting the glass back down on the podium. Hed addressed many audiences before, all of them attentive with exception of occasional students, but never as diverse as at Paragon University. Never, in his life, had he dreamed to be addressing a room full of superheroes, and certainly not as one of their peers.
The diversity of the rooms occupants had stunned him when he first entered. Hed seen some odd individuals while giving lectures, and some people that were reminiscent of dungeon dwelling denizens of some fantasy fiction in the archives of some of the greater libraries, but nothing matched this crowd.
Alfred realigned his thoughts and mustered his courage for another go at his prepared speech. He wished, just for this day, he could remove the loose cloth that covered his face, and take back the cowl. He felt like he was dressing up for a childs party. He had laughingly commented on the irony of not wishing to take it off for fear of losing credibility with his audience. So, as I was saying, this nature extends to all thinking creatures. We like to refer to it as the cognitive nature. That part of us which seeks knowledge, which enjoys the challenge of problem solving, and which seeks to elevate us from simple primates to the rulers of worlds is innate in all cognitive beings.
There was no movement from the audience, though one blue head did tilt down as if looking at his watch or perhaps taking notes. Right. You must be thinking, how is that useful? I know I was up all night trying to tie my fascinating anthropological discoveries into some practical data. I was thinking of how Id like stand up here and talk to you and my theories would fail to provide you a device you could build that would remove the threat of alien invasion. Rather disconcerting, really. So I did what I often find myself doing in times like these, I thought harder. And Ive come up with something that I think you might want to see.
Alfred pointed a blue gloved hand at the screen behind him as he hit the play button on the remote. The screen lit up with Rikti images, and their technology. Runes and emblems also scrolled by, as Prof Wincott began explaining the hierarchical structure in the Rikti race as it appears from the outside. He explained his theory on how they could be both best attacked, and how they could be best reasoned with. When it was all over, he turned back to the lecture hall to find an entire room of attentive faces. Though some were wearing steel helmets, and some were actually droids, he felt he was well received.
A city official walked up next to him and said, Thank you for that, Mystic Inferno. He gathered up his notes and walked off the stage. He moved out of the auditorium and into the hall. Behind him the sound of a lecture on psychological warfare was just beginning. He mouthed the words as the door shut behind him and the sound died.
Mystic Inferno, the voice came from behind him and slightly to the right as he reached the bottom of the stairs just before the door. He turned his head and caught sight of a young man with dreadlocks, probably fourteen. The young man was wearing blue jeans and a tan T-shirt with a red emblem on him that he didnt make out before his world came to a crashing halt.
Mystic Bonfire! The booming voice of the Statesman carried through the entrance area of the Richmond Auditorium. Instantly there were camera flashes and reporters surrounding him. He looked around in amazement as he pushed himself off of the Statesmans chest which had about as much give as a concrete wall.
Inferno, actually, you made that mistake once earlier when you
The Statesman took Mystics hand and shook it vigorously then paused, mid-shake, for a photo. Alfred lost his thought and nearly his notes as the cowl he wore fell down over his eyes. He used his notes to right his hood and then to shield himself from flashing cameras. This one isnt just a crime buster, folks, hes a brain trainer too. Hes educating our heroes to fight smarter against evil.
The cameras took many photos before the Statesman turned and looked directly at Mystic. Ive long meant to introduce myself and tell you what a great job youre doing.
Mystic looked up at the legendary superhero as he reclaimed his freed hand. Actually, we met once before when you
Alfreds soft voice was drowned out when the Statesman stepped past him and called to the flock of reporters.
Now Ill show you what these heroes have been doing to help make this effort an assured victory. Mystics gaze trailed up the steps as the media circus flowed over the steps and out of sight, until only the occasional flash bouncing off the walls marked its presence.
Kind of eerie. The sudden proximity of the voice startled Alfred, causing a visual flash of one of his defensive runes in his mind. Flame erupted from his fingertips as he turned toward the owner of this new voice. Woah, Im your friend.
He regarded the young black man holding his hands up defensively a few feet from him in the empty entranceway. It was the same dreadlock wearing youth hed seen just before the Statesman appeared. Alfred killed the flame from his fingertips and then frowned as the flame refused to die around his left hand. He puzzled over his use of the spells. Could I have done it incorrectly? What variable could I have possibly incanted improperly that would result in this phenomenon
OH BUGGER ALL, MY NOTES!
Alfred threw the papers to the ground then stomped on them until they went out. The black youth chuckled slightly and used his right hand to hide a smile as Alfred composed himself. She said get the bookish hero, I guess she wasnt lyin.
Im sorry, she? Whats this about, then? Mystic picked up the burnt remains of his notes and took them to the nearest trash can. His gloves, as usual, were unharmed by the flames, though covered in ash now.
The young man introduced himself, Im Roger. Im not a superhero like just about everyone else in this city, Im just working for a great gal who needs to see you.
Who exactly would that be? A young girl sporting a pink outfit and pig tails came floating in and flew by them on her way up the stairs with a handful of notebooks.
Rogers face became deadly serious and very conspiratorial. Im taking you to see the Oracle, Neo. You are the chosen one.
Several seconds passed while Alfred tried to digest what he had just heard. Finally he spoke. Hows that?
Laughter, again only slightly muffled by Rogers left hand as he brought both up in an apparent defensive maneuver for an attack that never came, rang off of the entranceway walls. Naw man, Im just buggin you. Her name is Mrs Reynolds and shes rich. As in buy you a whole new wardrobe and a fine ride, kinda rich. Roger put his hand on Mystics shoulder and began leading him out of the entranceway. Although these are some babyfine threads youve got hangin here. You one of those rich types? You know, benefits and parties by day, hero by night.
Its two thirty, Mystic protested as they left the building.
Roger shook his head as if trying to dislodge the smile from his face. I wasnt talking bout, nevermind. Peep this, if you ride with me, you get free lunch, a ride in that limo, and a big surprise.
Mystic pulled away. Youll have to do better than that. He noticed the limo parked at the curb with the rather stuffy looking butler holding the door open.
The young man sighed. Alright, hows this? Youll get to see something that only five people in the whole world have seen. And its significant too. Not like some flower.
Alfreds eyes narrowed, have you seen it?
Hell no. Roger held his hands up and leaned away. I aint no superhero. I aint no regular hero. This hear is yalls problem. BUT, I understand that one earth thing. So my [censored] is doing some legwork. Cause if this here breaks out, we all up in it.
The wind blew some leaves from the trees planted out in front of the auditorium and Alfred momentarily thought about getting a cape for his crime fighting look. Then his attention went to what Roger said. You know, its amazing we can communicate at all given that we dont speak a common language. But if I correctly interpret the main thrust of your point, there is something of no small consequence you want to show me.
Being the physically expressive person Roger was, he was already halfway through with his mimicking firing a bullet at Mystic and winking before, got it came out of his mouth.
Less than an hour later, Mystic stood in a room large steel riveted room. Across from him was a woman in a wheelchair, obviously suffering from extreme old age. Behind her was a large, armored Iris. Roger, who had led him through the Air Force security checkpoint, was standing at his right side. I brought him. Mystic, this is Mrs Reynolds. And Mrs Reynolds, this is your bookish hero.
A computer on her wheelchair spoke with a digital version of a voice one my associate with a grandmother in a Norman Rockwell painting. Welcome, Mystic Inferno, I was hoping you would come. I will take it from here, Roger, see if you can convince any of the others to join us, Im going to take Mystic in to see it.
What makes you think they gonna listen to me? Roger folded his arms across his chest and stared at the woman in the wheelchair.
The mechanical voice kicked in again, because you have such a lovely way with words and people.
Roger rolled his eyes and pointed at Mrs. Reynolds. You know one day, I WILL grow out of that flattery gets you everything stage. But youre right, I do have a way with words and people. Roger turned and walked out of the room. I should run for president so all the white people could say, hes so well spoken. Yeah, Im well spoken, I speak English. I speak ghetto. I even speak whitefolk. His voice became inaudible as the doors shut behind him.
Not a moment to loose. Mrs. Reynolds turned her electric wheelchair around with the power of her mind and headed toward the large Iris. Its just on the other side.
As her wheelchair approached, the armored iris spiraled open. Wait, just a bloody minute. You have some incredibly important thing inside and there is an automatic door that lets you in? Mystic stared up at the open door which was thirty feet tall.
The automatic voice laughed. It isnt exactly automatic. She rolled through the doorway into a large blue room with plush carpet. The room was thirty meters wide and forty meters long. There were computer banks against the left and right walls and ten long consoles arranged around a clear circle in the floor.
The elderly lady rolled up to the closest console and light jumped up out of it, creating a holographic keyboard inches above the surface. Several of the keys lit up and the clear circle in the floor opened. Four large metallic spheres rose out of the floor and headed toward the ceiling. They trailed something that looked like frozen lightning, an arc suspended in time and covered in a white light. Then another four spheres rose, connected to the first two by the arcs of light. And so it continued, until seven spheres for each of the four columns was visible and the last arcs touched what appeared to be a large metallic bowl. The metal had a strange pink hue to it and reflected everything in the room.
Mystic found himself strangely drawn to it. Without realizing it he flew over the console and hovered up next to one of the beach ball sized spheres. He was only a few feet from the dangerous looking arcs of energy, but felt totally at peace.
I was afraid of that. The mechanical voice took a second to register. Finally Mystic turned away from the object and addressed Mrs. Reynolds.
Im sorry, dear, what was that?
I was afraid of that. We had one magic wielding superhero here before, and we had to immobilize him or he would have drug it out our front door. Mystic could read no emotion in the voice that the computer provided for her.
Undaunted, he turned back an held his hand up near the shiny surface. I assure you madam, I have no intention of leaving with it. What IS it, exactly?
Thats why youre here.
Once more, the Iris spun open. A tall woman, dressed in black spandex, with black iron wings protruding from her hair, walked into the room. Emblazoned on her chest was the head of a raven. She looked around dispassionately then finally focused her gaze on the two figures at the centre of the room.
"Hello. The young man told me that I would find someone who could explain all this in here." Her voice had a slight lyrical quality to it, accentuated by the hint of a French accent. She nodded and spoke again.
"I am Corvus Corax."
My story arcs: #2370- Noah Reborn, #18672- The Clockwork War, #31490- Easy Money
Sartre once said, "Hell is other people." What does that make an MMO?
Tick-Tok found himself in a fancy room.
"Where am I?" Tick-Tok said as he looked around and noticed the three other people in the room.
"Come in, come in." Mrs. Reynold's mechanical voice soothingly invited as the two new guests took a step forward and the Iris closed behind them. "We were just beginning the introduction. I'm expecting up to seven more, if they take the invitation. This is Mystic Inferno. He gives the lectures on Anthropology and Psychology at Paragon University."
Mystic turned in mid air and tore his gaze away from the unknown object. "Fascinating, isn't it? What? Oh, oh yes. Terribly sorry." Mystic flew over toward the two new individuals.
Mystic's shirt was an oversized, powder blue tunic that he wore like a shirt with a belt. There were red runes in a magical language on his arms in stripes down the front and back. He wore a hood with a cowl. From the waste down he wore the cargo pants he had on when the costume transformation occurred, now emblazened with similar red runes and turned blue to match his tunic and cowl. His face was hidden with a blue cloth and his eyes burned with fire from under his hood. His gloves were also powder blue, though the tips were blackened with soot.
"How dreadfully rude of me. Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Mystic Inferno." At his hovering introduction they both looked over at Mrs. Reynolds who had just said the same thing.
"I've already introduced you, dear." Her mechanical voice chimed, with just the slightest hint of laughter.
"Oh, what? I'm afraid I didn't catch your names." He kept his hand out.
Accepting the proferred hand, Corvus replied, "Corvus Corax, at your service. I don't mean to be rude, but I'm afraid you haven't answered my question. Why am I needed here?" Impatience was obvious in her voice.
My story arcs: #2370- Noah Reborn, #18672- The Clockwork War, #31490- Easy Money
Sartre once said, "Hell is other people." What does that make an MMO?
"Tick-Tok" Tick-Tok said as he shook the hand of the mystic.
"Well, I'm afraid I don't know exactly, but it has to do with the large thing behind me." Mystic hovered to one side and extended his gloved hand at the large, glowing device.
Mrs. Reynold's voice modulator kicked in again. "I'd hoped to wait until we were all assembled. I suppose you can fill the others in. It was recovered from a Rikti base not too long ago. It doesn't appear to be anything that matches Rikti technology and was shielded by several layers of security designed to keep it in, instead of keeping the heroes that found it, out. Initial spectrographic readings and, really, all scientific testing has proven futile thus far. This is why your special talents have been enlisted. I have had a workstation prepared for each of you as I anticipated your special needs would dictate."
As she spoke, holographic names appeared over three of the workstations. Mystic floated to his console and alighted on the carpet. He could see access to every symbol ever discovered on Earth. "What have we here?"
Tick-Tok ran over to his station and sat down.
"ooh! never seen a techonological desifn like this before!" Tick-Tok began typing at and alarming rate browsing over as much information as he could.
"I am an expert at anything mechanical, so this is my greatest challenge yet!" Tick-Tok said as he started at the screen.
After having taken a seat at her console, Corvus oriented herself with the design of it. Pressing a few buttons, she mentioned; "Well, the technology of it is unfamiliar, but it's not emitting any radiation. Trust me, I would know. What concerns me, however is the idea that it was locked from the outside. That might suggest a portal, or perhaps a transportation device of some kind. Allowing for use from one side, but not allowing unauthorized access from the other. Have any attempts been made to run it?"
Without really waiting for an answer, she once again got up, and proceeded to study the device. "Four columns, seven spheres each... That might be significant." She turned to Mrs. Reynold. "May I have some paper and a pencil, please? I think better if I can sketch along to my thoughts."
My story arcs: #2370- Noah Reborn, #18672- The Clockwork War, #31490- Easy Money
Sartre once said, "Hell is other people." What does that make an MMO?
The doors slid open and a man walked in.
He was wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Nothing about him sugested "Super Hero" exept for the gloves he wore, which were constantly changing shape and color.
He held up a peice of paper and said "It told me to come here"
A small drawer slid out of Corvus's console. "Of course, dear." The mechanical voice was at once comforting and yet slightly off putting. Perhaps it was the way that Mrs. Reynolds didn't move her head or gesture. Perhaps it was the barely adubile hiss of oxygen that was being pumped into the extremely old woman.
Corvus found a black notebook with six shiney black pencils and six shiny black pens in the drawer. A number of other office supplies were also neatly arranged in the drawer. As Corvus began to sketch, a small holographic cube appeared over the left side of her console. The lines that appeared on the paper also appeared inside the cube as the computer was mimicking her movements with light.
Mrs. Reynolds turned her wheelchair around and greeted the stranger. While Tick-Tok explored the unbelievably versatile tools at his disposal and Corvus drew, Mystic hovered up near the top sphere closest to his console. He removed one of his gloves and reached forward toward the sphere. He was just about to touch it when Mrs. Reynolds finished bringing the newcomer up to speed and called for everyone's attention so that she could introduce the fourth member of the research team.
Frowning slightly at the interruption in her work, Corvus looked up from the paper, now covered in sketches, circuit diagrams, and calculations, and turned her attention to the newcomer. She spent a moment carefully studying the man, then returned her gaze to the sheaf of paper, half-listening in case something important was mentioned.
My story arcs: #2370- Noah Reborn, #18672- The Clockwork War, #31490- Easy Money
Sartre once said, "Hell is other people." What does that make an MMO?
Tick-Tok took a wrench and began tapping differant parts of the machine.
"Definitly metalic, it is also not metal that is found on this earth, or on the rikti homeworld" Tick-Tok said as he took a blow-torch and started testing out the heat endurance of the metal.
Tick-Tok felt and odd vibration through the wrench even after he had stopped tapping the metal.
"Oh, Tick-Tok, be careful. The sphere itself has a harmonic that damages living tissue and puts stress fractures into metal. You may not want to come in direct contact with it." Mrs. Reynolds warned from near the door.
Mystic had returned to floating near the top spheres. He closed his eyes and began incanting a spell that gives him control of fire, changing the incantation slightly to attempt to affect the light that slowly twisted between spheres.
Having paused in her sketches, Corvus looked up at Mrs. Reynolds.
"One thing confuses me. Why have you chosen this particular group? Certainly there are other heroes with some kind of specialization in crypto-science. I mean, I barely passed High School chem, for crying out loud."
My story arcs: #2370- Noah Reborn, #18672- The Clockwork War, #31490- Easy Money
Sartre once said, "Hell is other people." What does that make an MMO?
There was an eerie moment when Mrs. Reynolds stared at Corvus without speaking. The moment lingered as if the old woman were trying to decide if to answer, or how. Then her voice modulator kicked in. "I didn't exactly pick you."
Corvus looked puzzled and Tick-Tok turned away from the wrench he was intently studying microfractures on. Mystic stopped incanting and spun about in mid air.
"I don't know any other way to put this, so I'll just say that I think it chose you. Not in so many words, but several researchers have come in physical contact with the device, all have been treated for wounds and all of them have had the same dream. Five wounded researchers, two heros a piece. At first we didn't know what to make of it. But now, we've exhausted our standard scientific resources and even a few exotic processes yielded nothing. Without any other avenues, we chose to summon you. You are, literally, our last hope at unlocking this mystery."
Mystic turned back toward the sphere and then cried out with surprise as he floated defensively away from it. "A face. I thought I saw a face in the sphere", he explained when questioned.
The iris spun open silently, and a young man stumbled into the room, clearly not having expected it to open so quickly. He was attired in a black flak jacket over a tshirt and some cargos, but his spikey dark red hair and classic good looks made him look more like a pop star than a superhero.
Grinning sheepishly, he righted himself and gestured vaguely behind him, "Uh..Hi. So, this kid, Roger or something, told me to come here? Said something about free food? And that there was something really cool to look at.... and I'm guessing -that- would be it."
He looked at the frozen arcs of lightning, at the pillars and the spheres, then blinked a few times and looked around at those assembled, "I'm Jason by the way... I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
Tick-Tok walked over to his tools and got out a new wrench and began constucting a small scanner that could help him find out what this thing was.
"Do we have any mythology experts, or history experts coming? I have a strang feeling that would help." Tick-Tok said as he walked over to the machine with his scanner.
"What?" Mystic said hovering away from the sphere. He stared suspiciously at the sphere for several moments before turing to answer Tick-Tok. "Yes, quite I'm an expert in anthropology and mythology. More might be coming. But few will have as keen an eye for detail or an alert or sharp mind."
He looked up and started slightly at the two new people talking with Mrs. Riley. "Whats this then? New researchers?" Mystic floated over near them and landed. "Mystic Inferno, at your service."
Corvus stood. A hint of a smile touched her lips.
"None so modest, either, hmm?"
She proceeded to the spheres once again and began to look into the reflective surface, trying to verify Mystic's vision.
"So, a mythology and anthropology expert, eh? What's your spidey-sense tell you about this, then?" She motioned at the device dominating the room. "Any myths or historic artifacts which might give us a clue about what this thing is? Where was it found, anyway?"
My story arcs: #2370- Noah Reborn, #18672- The Clockwork War, #31490- Easy Money
Sartre once said, "Hell is other people." What does that make an MMO?
"Well," Mystic began, "not a great deal more than your deductive reasoning, I'm afraid. It is comprised of living magical energy, or perhaps a shell of magical energy. It exudes it, radiates it so brightly that I could close my eyes and feel the room around me like... sonar."
Mystic moved to the base and stared at the patterns of magical energy. "There's certainly no record or history of anything like this on Earth. There don't appear to be any markings, at least not surface markings. Although I can sense different things in each sphere. As if, each sphere generates a different magical energy, perhaps for a different purpose."
"Well," Mystic puzzled, "perhaps that's it. Perhaps it's a machine or magical device of some sort."
Corvus paused in her inspection of the spheres.
"You say it generates magical energy? And each sphere has a different kind? Correct me if I'm wrong, but magical energy operates basically the same as regular energy, right? Various energies with different wavelengths, each having a different effect. Mrs. Reynolds even mentioned that the spheres have a resonance to them. So, what if we find the wavelength of the resonance, and expose it to energy with the exact same wavelength, but with an inverse frequency. We might be able to annul the resonance and possibly examine the spheres more closely."
She turned and winked. "I may not have done well in chem, but I aced physics. Do you think you could identify the magical energy well enough for us to try?"
My story arcs: #2370- Noah Reborn, #18672- The Clockwork War, #31490- Easy Money
Sartre once said, "Hell is other people." What does that make an MMO?
"Well," Mystic thought, "yes and no."
He interpreted the expression on her face to mean she expected a more robust explanation.
"You see, magical energy cannot be, thusfar, measured like current or radiation. Since only those who are naturally attuned to the energy can even sense it- and most who can sense it are too busy using it, or perhaps hiding their gift from others to avoid being ostracised- funny story about that... Yes, well I'll get on with it. I can approximate the strength, but in putting together the counterspell I may not be exactly precise. Additionally, what if that is the final barrier keeping whatever that is safe for people like you and I to be in the room with it?"
Mystic turned dramatically toward the object.
((So Im going to start this as an open RP event. If youre not interested in the story, please dont post. This is more for my own amusement and for fleshing out a story thats been growing in my mind. Youre welcome to participate. I may write for your character, up to one line of dialogue which you will always have veto power over if you tell me before the edit time expires, and youre free to write for any I introduce. I always keep it to one line of dialogue.
The purpose is to tell a story more than roleplay a character, which can be a tedious and unrewarding task in a story, so things that advance plot are more important. Comments are welcome on the story, if you care, or if anyone even reads it. Again, mostly just taking up space and trying to get my writing started again after a long break.))