This is a story that appears on our SG website, the first part of four. What with City of Villains rapidly drawing cloer, I thought it might be fun to toss this little bit in. The rest of the tale will appear exclusively on the Fourth Quarter website, in the fiction section. http://www.the-packrat.com
Phoenix Rising, part One
Midnight in the Rouge Isles.
The small squallid greasy spoon situated in the heart of Nerva is, at this hour, the only spot of life visible to the street. The rains have come, and stopped only a short while ago leaving the air smelling crisp and clean but does little to improve the oppressive ambience of the environment. The pallid light that filters through the diner's dirty window gives an unwholesome sheen to the rain water left behind, making the street look as if it's coated in clear slime.
Inside, the diner is empty except for four people. The first is a sullen looking waitress. She has been on a twelve hour shift and is eager to go home, if for bed more than her fat lazy husband whom hasn't worked in eight months now. The second: the cook, absently scratching his rear end as she cleans the top of the wide flat grill. The grill needs replacing, but he's too lazy to actually go about ordering a new one.
As for the other two: a young girl, and a woman. The woman is tall and mesmerizing in her white skinned beauty, sitting so still as she watches the girl devouring french fries that she may easily be mistaken for a scuplture created by some twisted artist. The girl is pig tailed and blue eyed, decked out in a tank top and hotpants that gives her a very Lolita air. She seems intent to stare at her plate as she eats instead of the woman. The woman crosses one slender leg over the other. The creak of the black vinyl she wears is like a thunder crack through the otherwise silent diner.
"I'm surprised you agreed to come," she says. Her voice is soft, husky. The kind of voice that could drive a man to madness of desire if he were to hear it over a romantic music station on the radio while driving along a lonely street at night. She girl shrugs.
"I'm not scared. There's not much here to be afraid of."
The woman allows just the faintest touch of a smile to caress her midnight lips.
"Why did you ask to meet with me?"
The girl finishes the last of the fries. She takes a few moments before making any kind of response to wipe errant ketchup off her lips with a napkin. She pushes the empty plate away as she reaches into her pocket. Her little hand extracts a crumpled wad of paper, a battered pack of cigarettes, and a lighter from her pocket. The paper is shoved wordlessly toward the woman. A second later a cigarette is offered, but the woman declines. She takes the paper, unfolds it, and reads the words written there. Then, with a look of some annoyance, she reverts her attention back on the now smoking girl.
"And what has this to do with Arachnos?" She asks.
The girl looks down, sullen. "They don't believe this note is genuine. None of them. They refuse to see the threat she poses to Paragon City. Not my Group, not Statesman, no one. But I know. And if they won't help me..."
The woman cuts her off. "You thought Arachnos would."
The response is a nod.
The woman finds this amusing. She laughs, laughs so hard she pounds the table, startling the waitress ten feet away. The girl looks surprised, then scowls, then starts to stand up with a muttered nevermind. She is halted by a black glove falling lightly over her hand; by the intense look of piercing seriousness in the woman's eyes.
"If we do this, it will destroy you. Do you realize that? Your freinds, your peers, even your family will view you as a criminal. They will turn their back on you, they will hunt you and hound you. You will have nowhere left to go but to Arachnos. This is not a choice made frivolously."
The girl scowls again. "I don't care. She needs to be brought down before she destroys Paragon City. Let them villanize me if they want. In the end, they'll see I'm right."
The woman stares at the girl in long silence for quite a time before that flitting smile caresses her lips again.
"So much hate in you, so much rage. It's like a forest fire. Hidden behind laughter and humor, but...ohhhh...it's there. But it's directed at yourself, isn't it? Because of what you did to your mother."
The girl looks up in shock and pulls away, but is surprised to find the woman's vice like grip on ehr hand in unbreakable. "How did you know that?"
The woman tilts her head. A touch of impish humor is in her eyes.
"Your mind is a thin veil to me. A window. I can see into you, and through you. You fight so hard to redeem yourself of the guilt...and it isn't working is it, little hero? For every Hellion you arrest, the dragon of guilt stays put. And you think by toppling this silly woman you will somehow be free of it. You won't. I tell you that now. There is only one way to destroy it, and that is through Arachnos."
She rises. "From now on, you will be Phoenix. You will rise from the ashes of your guilt to be reborn a new thing. A terror that will vaporize the crime in Paragon City. But nothing is free, little one. When you ask Ghost Widow for a favor, you ask Arachnos for a favor. We will help you. But favors are due returned favors."
And then she is turning, moving away to the door. The girl watches her. Ghost Widow pauses as the door, looking back over her shoulder.
"We will be in touch with your new uniform, and your first assignment. And we will discuss what to do about your problem. Welcome to Arachnos, Phoenix."
This is a story that appears on our SG website, the first part of four. What with City of Villains rapidly drawing cloer, I thought it might be fun to toss this little bit in. The rest of the tale will appear exclusively on the Fourth Quarter website, in the fiction section. http://www.the-packrat.com
Phoenix Rising, part One
Midnight in the Rouge Isles.
The small squallid greasy spoon situated in the heart of Nerva is, at this hour, the only spot of life visible to the street. The rains have come, and stopped only a short while ago leaving the air smelling crisp and clean but does little to improve the oppressive ambience of the environment. The pallid light that filters through the diner's dirty window gives an unwholesome sheen to the rain water left behind, making the street look as if it's coated in clear slime.
Inside, the diner is empty except for four people. The first is a sullen looking waitress. She has been on a twelve hour shift and is eager to go home, if for bed more than her fat lazy husband whom hasn't worked in eight months now. The second: the cook, absently scratching his rear end as she cleans the top of the wide flat grill. The grill needs replacing, but he's too lazy to actually go about ordering a new one.
As for the other two: a young girl, and a woman. The woman is tall and mesmerizing in her white skinned beauty, sitting so still as she watches the girl devouring french fries that she may easily be mistaken for a scuplture created by some twisted artist. The girl is pig tailed and blue eyed, decked out in a tank top and hotpants that gives her a very Lolita air. She seems intent to stare at her plate as she eats instead of the woman. The woman crosses one slender leg over the other. The creak of the black vinyl she wears is like a thunder crack through the otherwise silent diner.
"I'm surprised you agreed to come," she says. Her voice is soft, husky. The kind of voice that could drive a man to madness of desire if he were to hear it over a romantic music station on the radio while driving along a lonely street at night. She girl shrugs.
"I'm not scared. There's not much here to be afraid of."
The woman allows just the faintest touch of a smile to caress her midnight lips.
"Why did you ask to meet with me?"
The girl finishes the last of the fries. She takes a few moments before making any kind of response to wipe errant ketchup off her lips with a napkin. She pushes the empty plate away as she reaches into her pocket. Her little hand extracts a crumpled wad of paper, a battered pack of cigarettes, and a lighter from her pocket. The paper is shoved wordlessly toward the woman. A second later a cigarette is offered, but the woman declines. She takes the paper, unfolds it, and reads the words written there. Then, with a look of some annoyance, she reverts her attention back on the now smoking girl.
"And what has this to do with Arachnos?" She asks.
The girl looks down, sullen. "They don't believe this note is genuine. None of them. They refuse to see the threat she poses to Paragon City. Not my Group, not Statesman, no one. But I know. And if they won't help me..."
The woman cuts her off. "You thought Arachnos would."
The response is a nod.
The woman finds this amusing. She laughs, laughs so hard she pounds the table, startling the waitress ten feet away. The girl looks surprised, then scowls, then starts to stand up with a muttered nevermind. She is halted by a black glove falling lightly over her hand; by the intense look of piercing seriousness in the woman's eyes.
"If we do this, it will destroy you. Do you realize that? Your freinds, your peers, even your family will view you as a criminal. They will turn their back on you, they will hunt you and hound you. You will have nowhere left to go but to Arachnos. This is not a choice made frivolously."
The girl scowls again. "I don't care. She needs to be brought down before she destroys Paragon City. Let them villanize me if they want. In the end, they'll see I'm right."
The woman stares at the girl in long silence for quite a time before that flitting smile caresses her lips again.
"So much hate in you, so much rage. It's like a forest fire. Hidden behind laughter and humor, but...ohhhh...it's there. But it's directed at yourself, isn't it? Because of what you did to your mother."
The girl looks up in shock and pulls away, but is surprised to find the woman's vice like grip on ehr hand in unbreakable. "How did you know that?"
The woman tilts her head. A touch of impish humor is in her eyes.
"Your mind is a thin veil to me. A window. I can see into you, and through you. You fight so hard to redeem yourself of the guilt...and it isn't working is it, little hero? For every Hellion you arrest, the dragon of guilt stays put. And you think by toppling this silly woman you will somehow be free of it. You won't. I tell you that now. There is only one way to destroy it, and that is through Arachnos."
She rises. "From now on, you will be Phoenix. You will rise from the ashes of your guilt to be reborn a new thing. A terror that will vaporize the crime in Paragon City. But nothing is free, little one. When you ask Ghost Widow for a favor, you ask Arachnos for a favor. We will help you. But favors are due returned favors."
And then she is turning, moving away to the door. The girl watches her. Ghost Widow pauses as the door, looking back over her shoulder.
"We will be in touch with your new uniform, and your first assignment. And we will discuss what to do about your problem. Welcome to Arachnos, Phoenix."