It had been a bad few months for Poison Sting. Since arriving in Paragon from the secret lab in South America he had been tried 11 times for excessive use of force arresting criminals. Its not like he was stabbing J-walkers, these were gang members, evil magicians, and drugged up mutated freaks.
Finally the judge had said enough is enough the Sting was going to someplace where he could put his talents to good use.
Judge Jacobs had said; Assign him to the 2-6! Make him do some good for this city!
Sting didnt know what the 2-6 was. Some sort of work program in the Zig maybe? Something where stabbing people with poisonous spines was beneficial?
A week later he was lead out of his prison cell. Three officers lead him to the tram, then rode with him through several stops and one transfer. The final stop was King Row. Sting recognized the Row he had fought gangs here for a while, and sent many of them to the hospital and morgue.
The officers lead him to the worst part of the armpit of Paragon. There was a decrepit building with two numbers on the front; a 2 and a 6. The door was no longer in place and it was obvious the various gangs had had their way with the building.
One of the officers took off the handcuffs. Ok, this is your new home. A hero named
The officer looked at a piece of paper. Mystical
no, Mystic Inferno will be in charge. You are to report to him, he is your new boss.
Another officer chimed in. And before you get any bright ideas, we will be getting regular reports from him, and if you do not behave its back to the Zig! Got it?
For the first time Sting reacted to what the officers said. Suddenly huge spines sprung from his forearms. They dripped a acrid smelling poison. He turned and pointed one mere inches from the officers throat and in a gravely voice said; Yeah, I got it, now get the #%$& out of here. Then he sheathed the spine and smiled as much as a chitin covered insect man can smile.
The officer gulped and reached out a shaking hand with some papers. Here, give these to Mystic Inferno. Once Poison Sting took the papers, the three were quickly gone, happy to be rid of the crazed prisoner.
F&$%ing great. Sting said to himself. Well this is better than a lot of places Ive lived lately so might as well give it a shot. He dropped the paperwork on the ground and the breeze blew it out to mix with the rest of the refuse in Kings Row, while he walked up toward the broken doors.
"Shut up Mr. Burton, you are not brought upon this world to get it!" - Lo Pan
@MadGremlin
Isaac Cutler checked the address again. This didnt look right. The building was in terrible shape. It did have the precinct numbers on it
sort of. The two was cockeyed, and the six looked like it had been seared into the brick.
Isaac, or Newtons Apple, was a chubby man with green hair pulled back into a ponytail and muttonchop mustache. He had a red sweatsuit with a green tree screened into it. He had decided long ago that if a helmet was a good idea for motorcyclists, it must be a good idea for superheroes.
He looked despondently at the decaying building. One too many practical jokes, Apple thought. They all said that it would get me in trouble. Youd think that a Judge named Richard [censored] would have a sense of humor, but no.
So, in contempt of court. Community service. The two-six. With a deep sigh, Newtons Apple entered the crumbling brick building and went in search of Mystic Inferno, his new supervisor.
Maybe he had a sense of humor
Mystic looked up from the table he was trying to clear from the safety glass to see a large... well, insect? Then a fat man entered the lobby. Mystic ran over some of his most powerful fire spells in his mind, to keep them fresh, in case these two represented the evil that threatened to put out the light of justice in this portion of the city.
Mystic was alone, the station in shambles still and already these two had wandered in the front door. "Bloody peachy," he mumbled to himself, letting the table go.
Mystic stood six foot tall, covered in blue robes and wearing a cape. His eyes glowed a soft red from under his hood. Red runes were visible on his clothing, and not a part of him wasn't covered. Something he'd learned from using his powers in windy areas.
The mage stood as strongly as he could, chin up and eyes darting across the two newcomers, scanning for any signs of hostile intentions. "Can I help you two?"
Newton's Apple glanced quickly around as he entered the buildling. A large insect-like man was in the lobby ahead of him. Newton swallowed hard. I was expecting cockroaches, he thought, but I didnt think theyd be quite so big
'
[ QUOTE ]
The mage stood as strongly as he could, chin up and eyes darting across the two newcomers, scanning for any signs of hostile intentions. "Can I help you two?"
[/ QUOTE ]
Gday, Newton said, smiling brightly at the robed figure. Im Newtons Apple. You must be Mystic Inferno, judging from the glowing runes and such. Im reporting for duty; the lovely Judge [censored] decided that I needed to come and work with you for a while. He reached into the pockets of his sweatshirt and pulled out an envelope. Here you go. The green-haired man handed it to the mage. Dont believe everything the judge says, especially the part about little respect for authority and not comprehending the chain of command.
[ QUOTE ]
Mystic stood six foot tall, covered in blue robes and wearing a cape. His eyes glowed a soft red from under his hood. Red runes were visible on his clothing, and not a part of him wasn't covered. Something he'd learned from using his powers in windy areas.
The mage stood as strongly as he could, chin up and eyes darting across the two newcomers, scanning for any signs of hostile intentions. "Can I help you two?"
[/ QUOTE ]
Yeah, the names Poison Sting, but you can just call me Sting. I was just condemned to this hellhole. And just so we dont get off on the wrong foot, I dont take @#%$ from anyone, so dont go getting on my case.
Sting waited for a reaction from Inferno. He expected that this guy would be like any other authority figure and try to force his rules on him.
((Sting looks like a typical insect-human combo: Green chitin for skin, multi-faceted eyes, and antennae. He stands about 68 tall but is very slender. His voice is gravely, but he seems to have retained enough human parts to speak fairly clearly. The chitin is pock-marked with openings where his spines can come out when needed.))
"Shut up Mr. Burton, you are not brought upon this world to get it!" - Lo Pan
@MadGremlin
As Nikolas approached the fallen down building, he could feel the depression that always found him in the Row. He remembered this building and the others that surrounded. He was young back then, but he had never let himself forget this neighborhood. It was never a beautiful area of town, but it was at least decent before the invasion.
He always felt helpless in this part of town. He felt like he should have done something. He knew Coolant System wouldnt have made a difference in the war, but that thought never made him feel better about THIS part of town.
When his supervisors told him about Hero Intervention, he had asked only one question: Is it available for Kings Row? That was how he found himself on the way to the old Twenty Sixth Precinct. The people in charge of the program offered him directions. He didnt need them. They had offered him a small payment. He didnt want it. This was the last place he was a child, and it was his job to protect it.
As he approached the broken doors, he saw two people standing in the lobby and a third person back away from the other two; a Circle mystic perhaps? Maybe he should have paid more attention durring the briefing. Nikolas felt his state of mind shift to that of Coolant System, and he prepared himself for the situations that could present themselves here. He switched off his voice suppressor and tried to look menacing.
Hello. Would you gentlemen be part of the area cleanup program, or are you just here to cause trouble? he said in as deep a voice as he could muster, Either way, it looks like I have a lot of work to do here.
[ QUOTE ]
Yeah, the names Poison Sting, but you can just call me Sting. I was just condemned to this hellhole. And just so we dont get off on the wrong foot, I dont take @#%$ from anyone, so dont go getting on my case.
[/ QUOTE ]
Oh, this guys going to be fun, Newton thought, his grin widening. He seems to take himself much too seriously.
[ QUOTE ]
Hello. Would you gentlemen be part of the area cleanup program, or are you just here to cause trouble? he said in as deep a voice as he could muster, Either way, it looks like I have a lot of work to do here.
[/ QUOTE ]
At the sound of the menacing voice, Newton whirled and back-peddled, his hands spreading out towards Mystic and Sting. The air shimmered around them as waves of gravity bubbled around each of them. He moved quite quickly for being a bit overweight. Always looking to cause trouble, Newton said from behind Sting. Keeps life interesting.
[ QUOTE ]
Hello. Would you gentlemen be part of the area cleanup program, or are you just here to cause trouble? he said in as deep a voice as he could muster, Either way, it looks like I have a lot of work to do here.
[/ QUOTE ]
Sting turned to see the very large man in the blue costume.
Gawd, what is this; spandex with an attitude day? Sting said with attitude in his own voice. You want to beat someone up why dont you and nature boy over here go play in the street.
[ QUOTE ]
At the sound of the menacing voice, Newton whirled and back-peddled, his hands spreading out towards Mystic and Sting. The air shimmered around them as waves of gravity bubbled around each of them. He moved quite quickly for being a bit overweight. Always looking to cause trouble, Newton said from behind Sting. Keeps life interesting.
[/ QUOTE ]
Whoa! Sting said, Bubbles! Heh, I might just end up not killing tree-man, hes got some spunk. Sting thought to himself.
Rather than be all threatening, Sting just struck a casual pose, leaning against a beat-up filing cabinet. Like tree-man said; Always looking for trouble there big blue. He said in the direction of Coolant.
"Shut up Mr. Burton, you are not brought upon this world to get it!" - Lo Pan
@MadGremlin
Here you go. The green-haired man handed it to the mage. Dont believe everything the judge says, especially the part about little respect for authority and not comprehending the chain of command.
Mystic tried to read the papers but the bug-man, god he felt so horrible for thinking of him like that, started to speak.
Yeah, the names Poison Sting, but you can just call me Sting. I was just condemned to this hellhole. And just so we dont get off on the wrong foot, I dont take @#%$ from anyone, so dont go getting on my case.
Horror crossed Mystics face. When he took the assignment he never thought that hed be expected to
Hello. Would you gentlemen be part of the area cleanup program, or are you just here to cause trouble? he said in as deep a voice as he could muster, Either way, it looks like I have a lot of work to do here. A third person had shown up, but was standing in the shadow of the doorway where Mystic couldnt make him out. He was about to answer him when suddenly he found himself encased in a bubble of gravity.
Mystic held the papers given to him in, one in each hand, out toward the two in front of him. Now wait just one bloody minute here. Im sure youre all fine, fine heroes that will do the city great good, but lets get one thing straight, Im not in charge. Ive never
I can barely run a classroom. Nice, so much for the secret identity if he keeps that up. Im certain that I can find a proper place for your paperwork if we can
EXCUSE ME, SIR, BUT COULD YOU COME A BIT CLOSER?
Mystic remembered his manners. Im sorry, didnt mean to shout, Apple was it? And poison? Oh, I suppose that would make this third gentleman the evil godmother or some such. Apologies again, didnt mean to make light of your names, but the situation is
Look, Im terribly sorry about the confusion, and the mess, but Im not the cause of either of them. Exasperated, mystic put both pieces of paper on the table next to him. He noted how the bubbles reacted to his desire, not constraining him, but almost playing off of his movements to repel things from him. Im just someone sent here to pick up the pieces
like you. And I dont expect you to follow me or take orders. Lets just clean up a bit, if you wouldnt mind helping, and hopefully, by nightfall, well have a place to sleep. I saw a shower room upstairs that looks mostly intact.
Mystic sighed a heavy sigh, took the papers from the table and stuck them into his robes. Then he walked around the table and tried to lift it from his end.
[ QUOTE ]
Mystic remembered his manners. Im sorry, didnt mean to shout, Apple was it? And poison? Oh, I suppose that would make this third gentleman the evil godmother or some such. Apologies again, didnt mean to make light of your names, but the situation is
Look, Im terribly sorry about the confusion, and the mess, but Im not the cause of either of them. Exasperated, mystic put both pieces of paper on the table next to him. He noted how the bubbles reacted to his desire, not constraining him, but almost playing off of his movements to repel things from him. Im just someone sent here to pick up the pieces
like you. And I dont expect you to follow me or take orders. Lets just clean up a bit, if you wouldnt mind helping, and hopefully, by nightfall, well have a place to sleep. I saw a shower room upstairs that looks mostly intact.
[/ QUOTE ]
Sting looked over at Mystic Inferno. Heh, evil godmother, I love it. He laughed. Hey, maybe this gig wasnt going to be so bad. This Mystic guy has a sense of humor at least. And he wasn't bossy at all.
[ QUOTE ]
Mystic sighed a heavy sigh, took the papers from the table and stuck them into his robes. Then he walked around the table and tried to lift it from his end.
[/ QUOTE ]
Sting moved quickly to the other end of the table and lifted it with ease. Where do you want it, boss?
"Shut up Mr. Burton, you are not brought upon this world to get it!" - Lo Pan
@MadGremlin
[ QUOTE ]
Im sorry, didnt mean to shout, Apple was it? And poison? Oh, I suppose that would make this third gentleman the evil godmother or some such.
[/ QUOTE ]
Newton burst out laughing, eying the big man in the blue costume. I wish I had seen that pattern, the chubby man thought. ((occ lovely. I really wish I had seen that pattern. Brilliant))
[ QUOTE ]
Im just someone sent here to pick up the pieces
like you. And I dont expect you to follow me or take orders. Lets just clean up a bit, if you wouldnt mind helping, and hopefully, by nightfall, well have a place to sleep. I saw a shower room upstairs that looks mostly intact.
Mystic sighed a heavy sigh, took the papers from the table and stuck them into his robes. Then he walked around the table and tried to lift it from his end.
[/ QUOTE ]
Newton raised a hand and the table gradually became lighter, and Mystic was able to move it with ease. Sounds fair to me, he said. He pushed the sleeves of his sweatshirt up further on his arms and cracked his knuckles. I dont supposed we can just blow all this refuse outside, can we? he sighed. He pointed at an area in the far corner of the room. All the garbage and trash floated up of the ground about four feet.
Newton grabbed a trash can made it lighter, of course and walked casually around the room, scooping litter out of the air as he went.
Resignation could best be used to describe Mystic's expression. "I was thinking we'd pile the furniture in that open space and see what we wanted to keep."
Mystic set about the task of cleaning, aided by Poison and waiting for the others to decide on a course of action. He noted Newton's actions and aided when he could.
The three of them cleaned for a couple hours and in no time, due to the super powered aid, they had the entry way looking uncluttered. Behind the protective glass was still a mess, but rather than focus on that right now, Mystic urged that they move upstairs and see about securing the second floor of the building so that people couldnt just walk in on them while they rested. Light was beginning to fade, and he would hate to be ambushed on his first evening.
The gate at the top of the stairs was meant to keep people in the stairwell unless they were police officers. The buzz door had been busted, but was mostly intact. In the mean time, a huge chain and padlock served as security. Mystic remembered the keys he was given and fumbled with the lock for only a short time before granting them entry. The second floor was the cop level. Showers, racks to sleep in, footlockers, an armory (long since cleaned out, hopefully by the cops), briefing center, radio room, and five offices.
Exhausted already, the concept of cleaning this floor was less than appealing. Look lads, its been an exhaustive day. Im as committed to the project as I can be, but if you dont mind, Im going to have a lie down for a tick. Mystic headed for a rack to sack out, hovering slightly off the ground as he went. When his body failed him, he had a tendency to rely on magic. Anymore, this happened rarely, as he had begun a rigorous training routine to keep himself from getting tired. Using the magic of the book was incredibly taxing, but not so much as this days activities.
Honestly hed never met these people before today, and hed hoped to make a good impression on his co-workers. He hadnt thought for a moment that they would look at him as
Bollocks Alfred, what have you gotten into? I knew you should have taken that butlers job with that Wayne fellow. Kind of broodie, but a good chap.
Coolant System stepped into the room as the blue mage had requested; apparently, this group was part of the cleanup process as well. At almost six foot with his hood on, Coolant didnt really think himself imposing, but it is much easier to look intimidating in a bulky suit of Blue Steel and gears than it is to look friendly.
Realizing that the situation was peaceful for the moment at least, Coolant switched off his automated defenses and addressed the other heroes.
Excuse me, I didnt mean to come on so strong, he replied in a normal voice. You may call me Coolant System
or any variation of that as people always do. I dont believe I caught you names, but was one of you the Poison Apple?
(OOC: I am writing this between interuptions at work; so if I post something that no longer fits with the story, I will delete or modify it. Just ignore it thanks)
((Me as well, we can go back in time briefly, I have the Temporal blaster AT. Yeah... don't ask, just go with it.))
Excuse me, I didnt mean to come on so strong, he replied in a normal voice. You may call me Coolant System
or any variation of that as people always do. I dont believe I caught you names, but was one of you the Poison Apple?
"I'm sorry" Mystic said, picking up furniture that was much lighter than it looked, "no, poison sting and Newton's apple. And I'm Mystic Inferno. You know, just once I'd like to say 'this is Bob, and I'm Tom, and this is Danny', you know, like real folks do."
"Would you mind terribly lending a hand? Coolant System? I say, well I'll keep us warm during the winter if you do your part in the summer. Now we just need a 'conjurer of snackfoods' and we're all set."
[ QUOTE ]
Excuse me, I didnt mean to come on so strong, he replied in a normal voice. You may call me Coolant System
or any variation of that as people always do. I dont believe I caught you names, but was one of you the Poison Apple?
[/ QUOTE ]
No, he is Neutron Apple, the boss is Magic Flamethrower, and I am Fuzzy Teddy Bear. Sting grinned which usually made him look like he was about to eat someone. Just kiddin ya Cool. Im Sting. He gave a little wave.
[ QUOTE ]
"Would you mind terribly lending a hand? Coolant System? I say, well I'll keep us warm during the winter if you do your part in the summer. Now we just need a 'conjurer of snackfoods' and we're all set."
[/ QUOTE ]
Heh, I can eat most perps so dont worry about snacks for me
He said matter of factly. Then he looked up for a moment seeing everyone staring at him. Um, just kidding? Is that going to be frowned upon here?
Sting got to work cleaning up. Somewhat surprisingly he was actually very effective at helping clean up and repair the station. He was not fast, or super-effective, but he moved along with methodical, insect-like efficiency continuing to plug away at the task. Cleaning, repairing, setting up rooms, he did it all with hardly a complaint only making negative comments about the lack of efficiency that the previous residents or vandals had.
It was very odd to watch him, as he would often follow the exact same path over and over again, to the point of wearing a trail in the dirty floor.
Boss! Sting shouted from a back room on the ground floor. We got weaponry stored back here, whatdya want done with it?
"Shut up Mr. Burton, you are not brought upon this world to get it!" - Lo Pan
@MadGremlin
"Yeah, I would love to help," Coolant replied while effortless lifting some filing cabinets above his head "I can't summon food, but I am kind of embarrassed to say I can generate some water if you need it. I guess the first order of business for this place is getting things straightened up.
I have a couple of machines I have to go get if I am going to be here regularly, but that can wait. Save some space for me to put them in though. Looking around at the scrawnier members of the team he added, "Uh... just leave the heavy things to me, and let me know if it gets too hot for you."
[ QUOTE ]
Um, just kidding? Is that going to be frowned upon here?
[/ QUOTE ]
"Kidding? No, that's not frowned upon. In case your wondering about eating people, what I don't see I can't report. Honestly I've tried arresting them but people tend to burn so quickly. I'm afraid I'm not very popular with the Freedom Phalanx and crew."
It was minutes later when
[ QUOTE ]
Boss! Sting shouted from a back room on the ground floor. We got weaponry stored back here, whatdya want done with it?
[/ QUOTE ]
"What? Weaponry?" Mystic, one shoe off and in his stocking foot, came out of the bunk area. "Oh my. They must have missed... Well, I suppose, can you carry one of those big lockers into the bunk room? I hate to impose on you, but you're both much stronger than I, and Newton, could you make the task easier? I'd rather have any weapons in our main room, which is likely to be the bunk room until we can get to the rest of the building. This way we can keep the weapons locked up until we can take stock of them. Sting, would you mind inventorying them when you have the time? Or I could do it. It just doesn't seem like you get tired easily. Plus I wouldn't know a .38 from a .39"
Mystic stayed up a bit longer aiding in the organization of such things that needed organizing. Throughout the evening, Mystic would yawn and stretch a bit, then feel useless, for even the pudgy superhero could at least move things, where Mystic was certainly able to burn things, should it come to that.
When he felt he could simply be no more use, Mystic once again plodded off to bed and threw himself down on the cot hed chosen. One with a pillow and that didnt look slept in.
In the morning he awoke to the sound of someone beating a pipe, with another pipe. At least thats what it sounded like. He rose, looked about to see if anyone else was up, then threw on his shoes and went downstairs to find the cause of the racket.
[ QUOTE ]
"Kidding? No, that's not frowned upon. In case your wondering about eating people, what I don't see I can't report. Honestly I've tried arresting them but people tend to burn so quickly. I'm afraid I'm not very popular with the Freedom Phalanx and crew."
[/ QUOTE ]
"We do seem to be quite the popularity crew, don't we," Newton said as he pushed a floating soda machine across the room to the pile of bad furniture. "I can tell we're all going to be called over to Stateman's mansion for tea and crumpets quite soon."
[ QUOTE ]
It was minutes later when
Boss! Sting shouted from a back room on the ground floor. We got weaponry stored back here, whatdya want done with it?
"What? Weaponry?" Mystic, one shoe off and in his stocking foot, came out of the bunk area. "Oh my. They must have missed... Well, I suppose, can you carry one of those big lockers into the bunk room? I hate to impose on you, but you're both much stronger than I, and Newton, could you make the task easier? I'd rather have any weapons in our main room, which is likely to be the bunk room until we can get to the rest of the building. This way we can keep the weapons locked up until we can take stock of them. Sting, would you mind inventorying them when you have the time? Or I could do it. It just doesn't seem like you get tired easily. Plus I wouldn't know a .38 from a .39"
[/ QUOTE ]
"One lighter than air gun locker coming up," Newton said, focusing his attention on the gun locker.
When Mystic finally went to bed, Newton rearranged the furniture up against the doors and windows to at least slow down anyone trying to enter the dilapidated building.
"Night, gents," the green-haired man said as he walked up the stairs. Bending gravity came easy to him, but after hours of constant use, he was exhausted. He found an open office with a couch that was still in pretty good condition, unrolled his sleeping bag, and collapsed on it.
((occ I'm assuming that since we're living there, he brought a duffle bag of clothing, a sleeping bag, and other necessities))
Early in the morning, Newton was woken up by the pounding of pipes. He groaned, rolled back over, and tried to go back to sleep.
[ QUOTE ]
"What? Weaponry?" Mystic, one shoe off and in his stocking foot, came out of the bunk area. "Oh my. They must have missed... Well, I suppose, can you carry one of those big lockers into the bunk room? I hate to impose on you, but you're both much stronger than I, and Newton, could you make the task easier? I'd rather have any weapons in our main room, which is likely to be the bunk room until we can get to the rest of the building. This way we can keep the weapons locked up until we can take stock of them. Sting, would you mind inventorying them when you have the time? Or I could do it. It just doesn't seem like you get tired easily. Plus I wouldn't know a .38 from a .39"
[/ QUOTE ]
Sting hauled the couple weapons lockers out with Newtons help lightening them up. For the next several hours he had fun going through the weapons, ammunition, and supporting gear. It wasnt that much 2 shotguns, 2 assault rifles, and 4 9 mm pistols, with no more than a couple boxes of ammo for each. It was pretty typical stuff that just happened to get missed by the police in their hurry to leave and the vandals as well. He wasnt a weapons expert but he had fun checking each piece out and making sure they were in reasonable working order.
Finally the lack of good lighting made any further work difficult. Sting curled up under a desk in an office and slept for a few hours.
[ QUOTE ]
In the morning he awoke to the sound of someone beating a pipe, with another pipe. At least thats what it sounded like. He rose, looked about to see if anyone else was up, then threw on his shoes and went downstairs to find the cause of the racket.
[/ QUOTE ]
Sting had not heard the sound his hearing was not great but his antennae did detect the movement past the office where he went to sleep. He watched as Inferno moved toward the front door.
"Shut up Mr. Burton, you are not brought upon this world to get it!" - Lo Pan
@MadGremlin
Coolant System was quite pleased with himself. According to the clock in his display, it was only 6 AM and he was two connections from having his "portable" living and repair station set up. In all truth, the station weighed nearly 3 tons when complete, and it was anything but portable. However, his supervisors had determined it would be better than making a regular commute to the lab every other day.
He had estimated a much earlier completion time, until he realized about midnight that he would almost have to rewire the ground floor to set it up. Coolant had wanted to put it in the bunks area with the others, but the structural integrity of the precinct was questionable enough to make anything above ground floor too risky.
The others had gone to bed hours before, but he expected as much from people that had to try and regulate their own energy output. If he continued to avoid the massive strain of combat, he estimated he could go 12 to 14 more hours before sleep would be a necessity.
As he was putting the finishing touches on the chamber's air-intake pipes, Coolant heard the others beginning to stir upstairs. When Mystic Inferno came down the stairs, Coolant turned to address him. Good morning, my friend, he stated way too cheerfully for most people at 6 AM, I was just finishing up here, are you ready to start again?
Good morning, my friend, he stated way too cheerfully for most people at 6 AM, I was just finishing up here, are you ready to start again?
So this was it, sabotage was it? Waging psychological warfare by waking him at 6AM with incessant pipe banging. Well he wouldn't get away with it. No, sir! Not this time. Mystic was fed up, mad as hell and about to tell him all about it.
"Right... well... I suppose I'd better put some tea on then." Mind you, the English weren't necessarily known for telling people off, but even for them, this was lame.
In the package given to Mystic was a credit card for building expenses, and a sheet which was meant to track them. Mystic cleared off a spot in the kitchen on the second floor and began working on the paperwork as the tea was busy getting done.
The unfamiliar surroundings, sharp, exposed nails and fallen plaster had Mystic mumbling to himself as he looked about, "warm, and well lit, isn't quite enough to suit my tastes I'm afraid. I have a bit higher standards. I suppose I shouldn't let Charles hear that, seeing as he teaches literature. Well I don't suppose there's much of a chance of that now."
Then came a noise. It was high pitched and nearby, and Mystic immediately headed for the teapot and was in the middle of pouring himself a tepid glass of tea when he realized that the noise had not stopped.
Gazing in wonderment at the nozzle, and seeing no steam that would warrent the noise escaping through the valve, he began to search for other sources. The unlikely, but undeniably accurate location of the origin of the noise was the manila envelope on the clean corner of the table.
Inside the envelope was a cell phone, and it was communicating it's desire to be picked up and smashed against something hard. Despite that, Mystic opened it up and put it to his ear.
Moments later, moments filled with "Yes, no, almost, not very far at all I'm afraid," and "I see", he was off, with the tepid tea, to the downstairs lobby. He stopped momentarily to attempt to raise Newton from the dead.
"Tea's on. And there's an important announcement about to be made in the lobby." Mystic brought the tray down, with four cups, sugar, and milk that was kept in a refridgerated container in his pack. (Mystic was fairly serious about his tea). As a matter of fact, a novice would not know to test the temperature and aroma of the tea, and would have, in fact, served it tepid, until someone complained.
One small incantation on the stairwell and the tea was quite warm by the time he was pouring it. "Gentlemen, and those who prefer to be addressed by other titles, we appear to have our first mission, as if were. If everyone wouldn't mind gathering around, I'll fill you in on the details."
[ QUOTE ]
"Tea's on. And there's an important announcement about to be made in the lobby."
[/ QUOTE ]
Newton turned back over and stared after the mystic. He looked up at the ceiling and implored the powers that be what he had done to deserve an six o'clock wake-up call.
The universe was notorious for giving him a tough time. Why else would he have been born with green hair.
The chubby man stumbled up off the couch. He groggily wandered down the stairs, thumping every one with the natural grace and dexterity of a hippopotamus.
He reached the lobby, and sat rather abruptly on one of the chairs. "Please tell me you have coffee as well as tea..." Newton said as he put his head in hands. "Black coffee with extra caffeine for a 6:00am mission..."
[ QUOTE ]
One small incantation on the stairwell and the tea was quite warm by the time he was pouring it. "Gentlemen, and those who prefer to be addressed by other titles, we appear to have our first mission, as if were. If everyone wouldn't mind gathering around, I'll fill you in on the details."
[/ QUOTE ]
Just as long as coherence is not required, Ill be fine, the muffled voice of Newtons Apple said from between his hands.
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"Tea's on. And there's an important announcement about to be made in the lobby." Mystic brought the tray down, with four cups, sugar, and milk that was kept in a refridgerated container in his pack. (Mystic was fairly serious about his tea). As a matter of fact, a novice would not know to test the temperature and aroma of the tea, and would have, in fact, served it tepid, until someone complained.
One small incantation on the stairwell and the tea was quite warm by the time he was pouring it. "Gentlemen, and those who prefer to be addressed by other titles, we appear to have our first mission, as if were. If everyone wouldn't mind gathering around, I'll fill you in on the details."
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How about some chow first boss? I cant think straight until I get something to eat. Sting stretched and his carapace popped and creaked. He was definitely moving a little slow. And a little warmth in here would help too. I tend toward cold-bloodedness when I sleep so even a little chill and it takes me a while to get going.
"Shut up Mr. Burton, you are not brought upon this world to get it!" - Lo Pan
@MadGremlin
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And a little warmth in here would help too. I tend toward cold-bloodedness when I sleep so even a little chill and it takes me a while to get going.
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"I wish I had that excuse," Newton said, looking up at the tall, lean insect man. "I just hate mornings. The only reason they exist is to keep evening and afternoon from crashing into each other." Newton put his face back down in his hands.
[[This is going to be an open roleplay story, with the following differences. I intend to write, so individual characters will either be left out as they fail to post, or written for with permission. This isnt intended to be cartoonish, so I would appreciate not blowing things up or smashing things or being too over the top. Its an open forum, so you can ultimately do anything you want, but I would appreciate the younger or more flamboyant posters reigning it in some. If no one joins, Ill just keep it up as long as my interest holds or until enough PMs come in saying you suck, quit it already. ]]
It was his second class of the day, an important class, with a couple of kids who were in danger of not making it due to, well, personal considerations. To say that Alfred Wincott was sympathetic to the context of their emotional struggle would be understatement. He had acquired his super powers very late in life by comparison, and had many emotional and psychological tools to deal with it. Additionally, he could simply not be super powered if he so chose. That was part of the advantage of reading the book cover to cover. The others couldnt turn it off if their lives depended on it. Neither could these kids.
Kids only from a perspective of over forty, they were in fact twenty and twenty one. Both took his archeology class after he wooed them deliberately away from easier courses to try to keep an eye on them. Paragon University, more so than regular universities, makes a concerted effort to reach out to young people who may have some sort of extra human ability. Though there are those who refuse to accept their nature and try to live life as normal humans. Scott and Theresa are two such youths.
Alfred has spent much of his time trying to counsel the two to seek professional help, but they continue to refuse. Instead, they often frequent his office or stay after class. It was thoughts of this nature that ran through the background of his head as his class wound on. He saw the class as a walk, mentally, through the physics and the history of archeology. Like a winding trail, he knew every part of his lesson plan. When young minds would raise hands he would answer two or three questions that often came up at that point in his lecture, and hands would go down. Not very often, some would remain, and he would call on them by name. He would note what was unclear, but more often than not, it wasnt his fault. Some kids just arent as smart or quick to memorize things.
When the city officials began filing into his classroom, he stopped and looked at them. They didnt say anything, simply began forming a line at the back of his class. With only a small pause, he continued, interjecting um into his routine twice, to give the appearance of being off-put by the sudden appearance of the suit wearing, poker faced, twelve person assembly.
Class ended moments later, and Alfred did not shout his usual instructions over the din of students leaving his class. Instead he shuffled paperwork at the podium while students left. Every student left, not one stayed behind for longer than a second to ask a quick question. It was obvious that something was up, though no one knew what.
A man in his thirties led the group of suits down from the top of the lecture room to where Alfred stood behind his podium. He presented a city ID and said, Alfred Wincott?
Yes, how can I help the city of Paragon? Alfred looked as uneasy as he could muster. If they didnt know he was a registered hero, he didnt want to tip his hand. If they did know, they would surely be here about that. No police officers or drones accompanied them, nor anyone who looked particularly muscled or super powered. Of course one life lesson he had paid dearly to learn, was that few things were as they appeared on the surface.
Im Sean OLandy. I work for the city. Precinct twenty six in Kings Row has been overrun. Sean laid his briefcase on the lecture table next to the podium and opened it. He pulled pictures from a file and slid them toward Alfred. We would like your help.
Alfred dropped his facade of absent minded professor and looked down at the photographs. Ill see what I can do. Do we know what kind of forces overran it?
Sean shook his head, thats not the problem. The information is all in this file. The problem is that its the sixth time this has happened, and the city is abandoning the station due to the losses in property and lives.
Alfred took the large file he was being handed as a quizzical look settled on his face. Im not sure I understand.
We are recruiting for Hero Intervention. Its a program that I designed that would take heroes, new to the city and give them a goal. An area to clean up, if you will. We want you to be our first member of the twenty sixth precinct. Sean did not smile, nor offer any warmth whatsoever. Alfreds impression of him was that he was a pure bureaucrat.
I well, you see, I have students. Sean walked past him to his desk. And, the end of the term is coming up. I have two aids and still the work it just piles up.
Sean waited until he was done. Yes, the work piles up because you arent doing it. Because youre spending your nights looking after imps that patrol the streets or aid us in our endeavors to rid the city of criminals. Or perhaps youre on Striga island slinging fire at vampires. Yes, we know all about why your work is piling up. Difficult living two lives is it? Studying magic and teaching others to study history and archeology must be taxing. Im asking you to make a choice here. Its not a tough one, in fact its a choice youve already made.
Alfred sighed. Does it pay well?
Sean smiled for the first time. No. But better than teaching.
It was nearly two days before Alfred Wincott was nearly a memory at the University. His classes were being taught by another professor, his apartment at the Whitmoore was cleared out and he was settled into a place overlooking the industrial pits in Kings Row. Hed taken to sneaking up the stairs, changing in the stairwell, then flying off the roof when he wanted to go out on the town for some purpose or another. This, he hoped, would protect his identity enough that he wouldnt endanger the lives of those he was hoping to protect. Mostly, he just took what he needed with him to the precinct.
Three stories of damage, thats what it was. The front doors were smashed open. Graffiti covered the walls, lights were smashed to uselessness, and the only thing that seems to have survived unscathed were the two large, metal numbers on the front of the building. A two, and a six sat there, defiant amid the defacement.
Alfred, now dressed as Mystic Inferno, in his blue robes and hood, with his loose mask over his face, stood before the main entrance. A police officer stood next to him, handing him some keys. Its all yours. The last one was trolls. Dont see many trolls in Kings Row. Its like someone, somewhere had it out for the two six.
The what? Mystic cocked his head as he took the keys in his gloved hand.
The two six. Thats what we used to call it. No one said twenty sixth precinct. Nevermind, just cop talk. The officer turned to go. Good luck, hero. If you need help, call 911, well see what we can do.
Mystic pushed his cape behind him in direct defiance of the sudden wind at his back, and stepped inside. He looked at the smashed doors, then at the keys in his hands, and hooked them onto his belt. The floor creaked under his black boots, and he found himself levitating without realizing it.
The damage was impressive. Tiny yellow cards marked shell casings on the floor, each card displaying a sequential number. Signs were left, displaying areas of the investigation that would shortly precede the closing of the precinct. The signs said, scene two and such. The sergeants desk had tables and other debris leaned against it, presumably so that the trolls could run up the debris and take advantage of a hole smashed in the protective glass to gain entry to where the rest of the damage seemed to be.
Sean had told him that other heroes would be assigned to the two six as they became available. He saw no signs that anyone else was there besides him. Mystic stood in the center of the lobby, amid the wreckage and made a rolling up his sleeves motion, even though his sleeves were far too lose to stay rolled up and fell back down to his gloves immediately.
Well, better get to work. With that, he began pushing an empty drum out of the front door.