((Gah!! I forgot completely about this! Well, maybe writing this will get me enough impetus to log in tomorrow. Here goes. The song is "For The Love Of Money" by the O'Jays.))
Some people got to have it
Some people really need it
Do things, do things, do things, bad things with it
You wanna do things, do things, do things, good things with it
Grampa always taught me to "stand up for what needs to be stood up for", as he liked to say. It was such a mantra in my family that it practically came out with every exhalation. Dad and Mom didn't have the gift, and certainly not Aunt Jane, but it somehow passed to me. And after hearing of Grampa's tales of derring-do and adventure...
...I said "no, thanks" and tried to live a normal life. Paragon City certainly wasn't the place to try that, I'll admit; but then again where else but in Paragon would you have the granddaughter of one of Statesman's buddies struggling at a button factory in King's Row? Someone with that kind of a connection who lived, say, in the San Fernando Valley would be sipping cocktails while reciting her story for the inevitable TV movie. Someone like that in, say, New York City would be getting into sexually-charged misadventures which would lead to her own fake reality series.
The day I was fired, I really, really wished I was one of those girls.
It started pretty simply. Late out of bed, heading to my third-shift dead-end job manning a button press. For those of you not well-versed int he fine art of textile accessory manufacture, a button press is nothing more than a very big cookie mold making very small cookies. Hot plastic of varying colors goes in, and semisolid buttons of equally varying colors come out. My job was basically making sure no obviously deformed buttons emerged from the press's mold stage, where during the puncture stage they could damage the very expensive press. Depending on how fancy the buttons were, this ranged from easy to hard, but usually leaned towards the 'hard' end of the spectrum. It was mind-numbing work for eight hours a day and seven bucks an hour. The only graces were the audiobooks and radio stations.
So I'm eagerly awaiting my fun-filled day of staring at mutant sequins and freakshow fasteners, when I see some homeless guy trudging down the street. I was brushing the light dusting off of dad's GT 350, thanking the fates that I wasn't that guy. The Row is not a good place for the domicile-impaired; thugs and freaks of all colors and degrees of mean streaks roam this part of town after dark. So naturally that December night was one of the pitch-blackest as a snowstorm threatened the populace. And then I noticed the punk with the baseball bat sneaking up behind him.
Money, is the root of all the evil
Do funny things to some people
Give me a nickel, brother can you spare a dime
Money can drive some people out of their minds
Trying to make myself as small as possible, I squatted behind the 350 and peeked around the rear bumper. The punk hadn't seen me; he'd been so focused on the hobo that he wasn't paying attention to anyone else. For a second I wondered why a color-bearing member of the Hellions would be so interested in an obviously destitute mark, but I quickly squelched that line of thought.
The homeless guy turned around just seconds later-- probably spooked by the thug's shadow. "Wha, whaddaya want?" he stammered. "Ain't got no cash."
"Don't want the cash, b----," the thug said. "That coat. Gimme." It was just then that I noticed the Hellion's clothes-- sleeveless t-shirt and some nearly shredded jeans. Certainly not appropriate attire for ten-degree weather. The thug smacked the bat against his palm-- probably to intimidate, but maybe to restore feeling in the free hand. He certainly looked liek he'd been wandering the streets for a while.
"This, this is my coat," the homeless man said, pulling the coat tighter around him. "The, the shelter guh, gave it to me. They could give yuh, you one maybe."
"B----, I said that's my coat!" the thug said. "Ain't goin' to no shelter. You gimme, or I'll take it." The homeless man shrank back, but started to pull the coat off.
And somewhere, deep inside, I heard a voice. "Stand up for what needs standing up for." So I stood up, and cleared my throat as loudly as I could. The crisp night air echoed it loudly. Both men turned to face me. "Hey, leave him alone," I said. "He told you to go to the shelter. I'll give you a ride."
"No way," the thug said. "I want the coat... f--- that, b----, I want your car." He advanced on me quickly, raising the bat as he rushed.
The homeless guy grabbed the bat as it came over the thug's head, and the ganger twisted somewhat ungracefully as his feet advanced faster than his torso. I was on him in seconds, giving him a sharp kick to the side of the head. He shuddered once and lay still.
So there we were, three of us-- one having just knocked out another, and the third carrying the baseball bat he was just threatened with. The homeless man raised the bat once and smashed the thug's head in before my eyes.
I reeled back, shocked. The homeless man tossed the bloody bat aside and started rifling through the thug's pockets; a pocketknife flashed quickly in the night before it found its way into the bum's coatsleeve. "You wuh, want any of this, you buh, better hurry," he said nonchalantly.
"How could you do that?" I asked. "That was a man's life!"
"Nuh, nobody will miss him," the hobo said. "Nuh, nobody in this town cuh, cares. 'Cept you. Thuh, thanks. I mean it."
"Don't thank me," I said, disgusted. "In fact, forget you ever saw me. I don't have time to deal with this." I hurried back to my car and drove off, hoping to put the whole thing behind me.
(For the love of money) People will lie, they will lash out and cheat
(For the love of money) People don't care who they hurt or beat
(For the love of money) A woman will sell her precious body
For a small piece of paper it carries a lot of weight...
That mean.... mean green
So when the cops came to the factory to arrest me, I got The Look from my boss. The one Look you know you're going to wish you didn't see because it's invariably followed by "I don't ever want to see you around here again". Which, of course it was.
The station was oddly quiet. You would have expected more activity in a PCPD, but it was late, I guess. Maybe all the criminals had gone to bed. The cop addressed me by name, and calmly asked me why I didn't properly tag the criminal after subduing him.
"Huh?" I asked.
"You are a hero, right? Not too many normal folks could deliver a kick like that. And you're registered with G.I.F.T., so it's not an unreasonable assumption..."
"Now hold on a minute," I said. "I just got fired, I witnessed a murder, and now you're trying to recruit me into the business that got my... my..."
"We know about your grandfather and your parents," the cop said. "Damn shame. Still, we thought you'd be..."
"Well I'm not!" I said. "Look, I knocked him out, and then the hobo smashed his head in. That's what happened. I didn't kill him!"
"Actually, you did," the cop said quietly. "Autopsy came back-- the baseball bat damage was irrelevant. The guy was dead seconds after your kick. I'm sorry, but unless you register as a hero, this is going to go on your record." I swallowed hard. "You'll be tried for manslaughter-- probably get off easy, just a year. But getting a new job after that.... man, that'll be rough."
"So you're proposing a deal?" I said, skeptical. "What's the catch?"
"The catch is that you go out and catch more bad guys, and get paid for it," the cop said. "We've been extremely short-handed since the Rikti invasion, and with the Dyne dealers taking more and more turf we need every able body we can find to work for us. We really need your help, kiddo."
"Well," I said. "Can I think about it?"
"You got only a couple hours before the D.A. wakes up with a copy of this file on his desk," the cop said. "You sign up now, we can go over there and lighten his load right away."
"Guess I don't have much choice, huh?" I said. "Did you at least hang on to the homeless guy?"
"We have him in lockup, yeah," the cop said. "If we bury this autopsy and get, well, a second opinion, we can put him away for it."
"I don't want him put away," I said. "He didn't do it. He shouldn't have to suffer."
"Lady, he's in better hands now than he was on the streets," the cop said. "The D.A. will throw the book at him, but stop short of the chair. This guy'll spend the rest of his life in the Zig and will never once think of escaping; not after having been down and out, out there. Honestly, we're doing him a favor."
I paused. "I'll do it, but on one condition," I said. "And it's a yes or no, take it or leave it thing. I want you to strongly suggest to his lawyer that the guy get set up for an insanity defense, and I want the D.A. to agree with that sight unseen."
"Any particular reason why?" the cop said.
"'Cause life in a nut hatch just sounds a bit more pleasant than life in a maximum security prison," I said. "You do that for me, and clear my name, and I'll sign up first thing in the morning."
"Done deal," the cop said. "My name's Rufey Thorne, by the way. It's a pleasure to be working with you, S--"
"Call me Poppett," I said. "And we're not working together, not after tonight. Tonight never happened. Tomorrow morning I sign up with a clean slate. Got it?"
"Got it," Thorne said. "Your car's in the garage. Have a safe trip back home."
I did have a safe trip back... but it was quite a long one. You stand up for the right thing no matter what the cost is; but in this case I can't help but think that maybe Thorne had set me up for all of this. He seemed unusually well-connected for a regular Joe from the force... but all of this is hindsight. The hobo was going up the river and I had traded up to a better job. All it cost me was my conscience.
Some things you can't buy with money; for everything else, there's always someone willing to help you pay the price. But make no mistake-- everybody pays. Everybody.
Alright. Here it is for ArchiteuthusDux. It's linked for Length. Sort of both the reason for his song, and his origin. Critique, enjoy, whatevah!
Clowns to the left of us, jokers to the right
Edit: Fixed the typos I could find. Been dying to share this story as this was a long time MUSH char. But I think I got them all this time.
((I'd like this to be part of the Cape thingie-thing. The story is longer than the song. Sorry. The song is "Waiting for Superman", by the Flaming Lips. Lips fans sometimes claim the song to be the saddest song in popular music. I dunno about that, but it does have a melancholy to it. So, of course, Roy needs a song... It fits the story though.
The story is a piece of the ending of the Karmic Bingo thread.))
------------------------------------------
I asked you a question,
But I didn't need you to reply.
Is it getting heavy?
But then I realize.
Is it getting heavy?
Well, I thought it was already as heavy as can be.
Tell everybody waiting for Superman,
That they should try to hold on best they can.
He hasn't dropped them, forgot them or anything.
It's just too heavy for Superman to lift.
Roy left the others at the strange boat that Hades Moon had conjured up. They had come for him. His friends. They had come to take him back to reality. Away from his dream.
He wasn't certain the others could even still see the house, the field, but he could. And he could see Becky standing on the porch, smiling gently as she always had when she watched him work in the fields. He went to her.
She was everything he had ever wanted. With her came a lifetime of memories. Meeting shortly after highschool. Marrying after only a few months of dating. Bringing home the new baby. Diapers. Shots. Teething. First steps. Watching him grow and achieve. Sharing the heartaches and the joys in the life they had made together.
All the things a normal life would bring.
"Are you going to wait until Ben comes home? Becky asked. Can they hold off leaving that long?"
"Ya know I'm leavin'?"
"I know you can't stay."
"Becky... I..."
The gentle smile faded, and she had the same expression she'd gotten when their son told them he was going away to college. Not quite sorrow, not quite pride. "I don't know what I'll do. This place will fall apart without you."
"I... I can come back to see ya."
"No. I don't think so. They said you're needed there. You'll make a life there."
Roy looked into her eyes. He realized now that sometimes they had been blue, and sometimes they had been green.
Whichever made him happy.
"I was just wondering, is all, if they can wait long enough for Ben to come home."
He turned and looked at the people waiting on the boat for him. They seemed to be moving very slowly, and after a moment, he really had to concentrate to see them at all.
"Sure," he said.
He took her hand, sat in his cane-back rocking chair, and pulled her down onto his lap.
"Remember when you were scared to hold him when the doctor handed him to you?"
Roy nodded.
"You were a good father. You have it in you."
"You're a good mom too. I'm real lucky ta have ya fer th' mother o' my son."
Becky smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
"Would you like a sandwich or something while we wait for the boy?" She moved as if to get up.
"Nah. Let's just sit here."
She laid her head on his wide shoulder. He inhaled the fragrance of her hair. He wanted to remember it, but knew he wouldn't.
The shadows of the day were growing long when the familiar sound of Ben's little Pontiac came down the driveway.
Becky stood, and so did Roy. Ben, as strong and tall as his father, got out of the car.
"Hiya, Pop!"
"Hiya, son."
Ben bounded up the steps and the family did a group hug.
"You're father's getting ready to leave. He's going on a trip."
"Yeah? Where to, Pop?"
Roy tried to answer, but found that he couldn't open his mouth and keep his composure at the same time.
"He's going to Paragon City."
"Wow! That's cool! What's the occasion?"
Roy cleared his throat and tried to answer, but nothing came.
"He's needed there for some special work. Something only he can do."
"Wow! My Pop in Paragon City! Who woulda thought?"
"Yes, we should be very proud of him."
"Look, Becky... Ben..."
"Shush. You're going. You may never get this opportunity again."
Ben hugged his father. "I'll see you when you get back, Pop. I'm gonna go inside and call Jeanine. She's gonna flip when she hears her future father-in-law's gonna be working in the City of Heroes."
Roy kissed Ben on the cheek, and took a long time to let go of the hug, then watched the boy disappear into the house with an exuberance he barely remembered ever having himself.
"Well..." Becky began, and looked toward where the others were now visible again.
"Becky... I'm sorry."
"I know."
"Becky... yer... real... ta me."
Becky nodded and pointed to Roy's friends. "But so are they."
"Becky..."
"No regrets. No looking back."
Then she put her hands on his face and pulled him down to kiss him. Roy closed his eyes and felt the familiar softness of her lips on his. His eyes were still closed when the kiss ended.
"I love you," she said.
Roy opened his eyes.
Becky was gone.
The house was old now, dilapidated. It's shutters were falling off. The porch was sagging and missing boards in places. The screen door hung askew. Grey, faded paint peeled off of its once bright walls.
Roy turned away, and walked to where his friends had been waiting for several minutes.
"Let's go," he said.
((I know, breaking the rules, but I was working on the prelude to this scene, so another one 
Again, feel free to play on The Cape. Terra is originally from Praetorian Earth (read Through a Mirror Darkly), this is shortly after her first portal mission, which triggered her lost memories. If you don't know the song...well, one your are a poor deprived person, but I'll tell you at the bottom))
Came in from a rainy Thursday
On the avenue
Thought I heard you talking softly
Terra sat heavily in the generic plastic chair, soaked through. No one was home at the Order's HQ to see her, and for that she was grateful. Images haunted her vision, and voices just far enough away to not hear clearly echoed in the silence.
I turned on the lights, the TV
And the radio
Still I can't escape the ghost of you
The bright flourescents of the common room lit up every corner, and the surround speakers filled the room with the latest pop hit, but names and faces still invaded her mind.
What has happened to it all?
Crazy, some are saying
Where is the life that I recognize?
Gone away
Tears fell down her face, and the central air's currents chilled her in her wet clothes, but she hardly noticed. Snapshots of moments in time etched themselves in her mind, one after another, of there, and here.
But I won't cry for yesterday
There's an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive
Aisu's words felt hollow even though they were true. She couldn't do anything for them anymore, but she could do things here. But so much was different now. She'd tried to explain, but she knew they hadn't understood. How to you explain to somewhat that what they say is red you see as blue.
Passion or coincidence
Once prompted you to say
"Pride will tear us both apart"
Well now pride's gone out the window
Cross the rooftops
Run away
Left me in the vacuum of my heart
And Heather. She stood there, not understanding, looking up to her. This Heather didn't know, this Heather wasn't the one who rescued her, the one who meant more to her than anything and had sacrificed herself for the cause. But she was still Heather, and it hurt so much to see her.
What is happening to me?
Crazy, some'd say
Where is my friend when I need you most?
Gone away
Helplessness was not something Terra knew how to deal with. Knowing, remembering, who the Order had been, standing there in that one way realization, past and present crashing together, and knowing none of them understood, that she was alone. It hurt, and there was nothing she could do.
But I won't cry for yesterday
There's an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive
She had to let it go. This wasn't her home, they weren't the people she had known, and the ones she left behind were beyond her forever. She was making a place for herself here, people trusted her. But if they knew who she was...did she have any right to be trusted?
Papers in the roadside
Tell of suffering and greed
Here today, forgot tomorrow
Ooh, here besides the news
Of holy war and holy need
Ours is just a little sorrowed talk
The Evening News cut in from the TV, talk of the Terra Volta Reactor being saved made her pause. More reports of allegations against Crey, and a story about some reclaimation of Venice. She tried to ignore it, but the next story caused her pause.
"Portal Corporation honored several heroes earlier today after an incident in one of their labs was handled quickly and efficently. Several employees expressed their heartfelt thanks for the dedication and selflessness these heroes displayed, as well as letters of thanks brought back from the world on the other side of the portal."
And I don't cry for yesterday
There's an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn to survive
Terra fingered the commendation from Portal Corp. They had saved the people of that world, they would be safe. They had saved the Portal Corp employees, too. That it triggered her memories...that she remembered... She wanted to believe ignorance was bliss, but with all the bad, there was good, too. Heather was alive, Vicky and Kris were not involved. Her family, well they weren't really her family, were they? She'd never been born here. But in another place and time, she'd called him brother and he meant the world to her, not that he needed to know.
No, they weren't the people she'd loved and lost, but they were the people they could have been, and they were worth protecting. Heroes from this world had tried to save hers, she couldn't go back but she could return the favor and protect what was dear to the heroes who had died fighting there. She shut off the TV, the radio, and the lights, and headed upstairs to change clothes, dialing a familiar number on her phone.
"It's TA, got anything that needs doing? I'm itching for a fight."
Every one
Is my world, I will learn to survive
Any one
Is my world, I will learn to survive
Any one
Is my world
Every one
Is my world
((Duran Duran - Ordinary World))
Doc slogged onward, down the storm drain. Damn that crazed doctor and his experiments. Damn them all to perdition. Damn them for what they did to innocents, damn them for the deperately ill they conned, and most of all, damn them for him getting his gi all soaked through with raw sewage!!
Must be getting early clocks are running late
Faint light of the morning sky looks so phony
Dawn is breaking everywhere
light a candle
curse the glare
Draw the curtains I don't care
cuz it's alright
I will get by
I will get by
I will get by
I will survive
He knew that, had he just gone on with his life, kept the dojo instead of leasing it out, and followed his pacifistic hippy nature and STAYED OUT of those gang fights, he'd never have gotten all messed up in this.... HERO... business. What was he thinking?? Darkforce or no, he was a sensei, a teacher, not some gung-ho swashbuckler with a ponytail! By Jerry G's ghost, hippies aren't supposed to do this sort of thing!
I see you've got your list out
So say your piece and get out
Yes I get the gist of it
but it's alright
Sorry that you feel that way
The only thing there is to say
Every silver lining's got a
touch of grey
I will get by
I will get by
I will get by
I will survive
Lost in thought, he stumbled through yet another ditch flowing with ... muck... and then saw them ahead of him. Abominations, they were called. Basically reanimated corpses all stuffed full of dead hero parts like trussed-up turkeys. And as zombies went, they were nasty. Slow, but nasty. Anything that made a point of hocking caustic goobers at you... at least the Doctor could have made them more... sociable, perhaps?
Ah well. Time to carve up some cold cuts.
It's a lesson to me the eagles and the beggars and the seas
The ABC's we all must face try to keep a little grace
It's a lesson to me the deltas and the east and the freeze
The ABC's we all think of and try to win a little love
It wasn't too difficult for him to take on the three shambling hulks. The work was in taking down the crazy-eyed surgeon that came bolting around the corner, cursing at the top of his lungs... "My specimens! you destroyed my specimens! Have you no HONOR, sir! This is valuable medical research!"
"Save it. Better yet, that'll be your eulogy." Doc sidestepped the poisoned crossbow bolt and introduced the loony-bin sawbones to his sword. The battle was again rather short, and again, Doc prevailed, yet not without some injury... he yanked his gi aside to reveal a 6" gash where the nutjob had sliced him with a bonesaw. Ow. Dammit. And it'll get infected too. He ripped off the hem of his gi and tied it around his leg as an ersatz bandage.
I know the rent is in arrears
the dog has not been fed in years
It's even worse than it appears
but it's alright
Cows are giving kerosene
kid can't read at seventeen
The words he knows are all obscene
but it's alright
I will get by
I will get by
I will get by
I will survive
Doc, slowed down by the wound to his leg, continued sneaking from pipe to pipe, wall to wall, still looking for the bodies that had gone missing from the morgue. Everywhere, sewage and rusty equipment, and occasionally an example or two of walking undead, but no bodies! He swore under his breath. Why they don't just send a whole contingent of marines down here to clean the whole place out...
He turned a corner, to find a huge underground vault. Off to one side, giant agitator rotors stired up pools of the sewage, while catwalks crossed the space in between. And on the catwalks... there they were! Six of them, all lined up. Two Reavers were busy dissecting one, removing useable flesh.. thankfully they hadn't progressed very far. And behind them... an Eidolon. Dressed head to toe in black leather, she surveyed the operation like a foremen at a job site. OK, Doc Mayhem. She's the one to take down.
"Hey! Can't you people rent a decent CLINIC to do this kind of thing in? Someone here owes me a cleaning bill!"
<<The hero is mine. Continue the work, this will not take long.>>
Doc unsheathed Blade of Spring Dawn, and mentally let loose the Darkforce that flowed through him, as a buffer against the same force the Eidolon would bring to bear on him. She had crossed the catwalk to size him up.
<<Ah. A traditionalist. Very well, 'hero'. I'll be using that pigsticker of yours as a scalpel soon enough... to dismember your dead body.>>
"Do not disregard me so quickly. You may find that the blade does not wish to change owners."
The two clashed in the middle of a pool of green effluvia, Doc inflicting severe wounds with the sword, while the Eidolon did her part to drain his lifeforce and will away. In the end, though, Spring Dawn remained in his grasp. He somehow managed to dispatch the minions that flocked to him when the Eidolon fell... and then, bruised, cut, battered, and nearly choking from the smell, he one by one carried the bodies back to the sewer entrance where morgue vans waited to carry them away.
As the sunshine hit his bedraggled face, Doc understood. It's not about the accolades, or the added status. It was about character. Something everyone could recognize and appreciate... even a jaded old hippie martial arts teacher, who somehow had managed to become a swashbuckling hero... despite his protests to the contrary.
The shoe is on the hand that fits
there's really nothing much to it
Whistle through your teeth and spit
cuz it's alright
Oh well a touch of grey kinda suits you anyway
And that was all I had to say
and it's alright
I will get by
I will get by
I will get by
I will survive
We will get by
we will get by
we will get by
we will survive
We will get by
we will get by
we will get by
we will survive.
"Touch of Grey" - Grateful Dead (from In The Dark)
"City of Heroes. April 27, 2004 - August 31, 2012. Obliterated not with a weapon of mass destruction, not by an all-powerful supervillain... but by a cold-hearted and cowardly corporate suck-up."
JointPopper: Kheldian/PB
Song: 'Holding out for a hero': Bonnie Tyler
-------------------------------------------
"JointPopper.. There's an emergency."
The details come in over my comm, a quick situation rep that shows up on the inside of my 'shades. They aren't just for fashion sense, you know. A mess of hostages, a ticking bomb - and a whole crapload of Family, thugs and muscle for rent. The building's close - I can see why Elisa pointed it out to me. I roll up the sleeves of my jacket, adjust my gloves - leather with just a hint of brass in the knuckles, natch - and push open the door.
Inside my head, the tickle I've come to associate with the Peacebringer stuck in my conciousness kicks in, it's voice concerned. It's not a surprise what it says.. There must be dozens of those guys there, all with guns drawn and ready, just looking for trouble.
We/you/I are so few, they/them/others so many. Should regroup/retreat/prepare.
Concepts, images fill my head. Most of them involving the mob bosses standing up and around us, with me and my little head-partner splattered on the floor. I shove them aside, and reverse the images. I know we can do this - we have to. My hand goes to the jacket pocket, pushing the front open a bit more so they'll be able to see the revamped skull on the shirt I wear under. Let 'em think that the Skulls are rushing them - time to make them think I'm an army. In that pocket, a small device is clicked on - and music fills my ears. I'm already moving before the rock beat settles into my blood
Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
The first trio don't have a chance to react to me. They're talking amoungst themselves about how they're going to spend the money they're getting for blowing the building up, not paying attention to me - the grumpy woman with a voice in her head and a mad-on for the Family. A fist clocks into the first, dropping him - the second takes a leaping knee to the back of the head. A bolt of white light from my eyes drops the third.. but as he falls, he triggers his walkie-talkie - and over the static, I hear another voice echo out.
"Ah, crap! We got capes! Form up, and protect the bomb, you mooks!"
Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Too appropriate - it's almost eerie, really. I crank the volume - knowing they're ganging up in groups means I have less to worry about with getting snuck up on. The voice in my head doesn't agree, but I shut it down, push it away. At least for now, we're not working as one. I'll patch it up later, but I don't have time now - maybe till the end of the song, depending on how desperate they get. I'm already in another sprint, then airborne, surrounded by white light, starting to search the building. It makes me visible - but.. no time!
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream
of what I need
I hit the next group like a freight train, fifteen strong, with two scared faces - those are probably the hostages. Bowling into them, I drop one before the rest can turn - all raising their guns at the same time, swinging them my way. I give up control to the voice in my head, trusting him to know the best way to deal with it. With a growl, I can feel my body shift, the hard plates of his armored form collapsing, and my own body withdrawn into his head. The pounding bass pulses in our combined body, and his foot raises up high, pausing for just a second..
I need a hero!
The boom of drums in the song is overwhelmed by the thunderous blast of the crab's foot crushing down, the mobsters flying away. White light erups from the ground in fissuring cracks, somehow managing to miss the two huddled, cowering people. We move away from them, to engage with the Family that are trying to get back to their feet. One's grabbed between a tri-clawed hand, other fist coming up - a full-strength punch to his face, then throwing him back into the group..
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
Tons of asskicking ensues. My Peacebringer tagalong's gotten into it, I can feel it. Each swing is deliberate, each motion moving in time to the music that only we can hear. He came to me to learn how to be a hero - but he already knew how to bring down the house in a fight. From the inside, I watch as gunner after gunner fall, the bullets they spray bouncing off my/our tough hide.
I need a hero!
Another crushing footstomp leaves the remainder to fall over - and he turns the form back over to me. It's a rush, a sudden burst of sensation and perception as I'm me again.. back in my body, back in my right mind. The hostages run towards me, bow.. and then run away, towards the door, helped along by a steely gaze behind the glasses I wear. Scare 'em off - this is no place for innocents. The lyrics in my ears roll on, as I take a deep breath, and then rocket forwards. That bomb's still out there..
Up where the mountains meet the heavens above
Out where the lightning splits the sea
I would swear that there's someone somewhere
Watching me
The minor key change is almost premonition, a warning in the back of my head, like ice along my spine. Something's not right as I swing around the corner and see the second group, huddled around the bomb and another hostage. So many, but no boss? No driving force? It's not enough to give me pause, though - and the second group goes down faster than the first, knocked senseless in bursts of pure white force.
Through the wind end the chill and the rain
And the storm and the flood
I can feel his approach
Like the fire in my blood
Fire in the blood - again, prophetic. That's what it feels like to be hit by a Quantum weapon, if you're bonded. And I am. And I collapse like a poleaxed bull as the shock screams through my system, and again, before I can turn. As my body goes limp, I spin like a manequin with my strings cut, landing facing the people who came up behind me, a man in a natty white suit, and a goon .. a Skull. Dressed in black and white, and I know the face. Bonebreaker, the man who kicked me out from the Skulls, who almost killed me once - and he's got a Quantum Gun in his hands. Still, in my ears.. I hear the music, reaching it's fever pitch, as I try to force past the pain that makes everything go white.
like the fire in my "See, I told you she'd fall for it. Get her outta the way.."
like the fire in my "Nothing but a trumped up two-bit failure without power..."
like the fire in my "Go ahead.. have some 'fun' with her first, then it's the fishes.."
The pitch of the music is music grows almost dirgelike, angry and fierce, as Bonebreaker steps up to me, kicks me with his boot. I feel something break inside, and I can feel my 'other' cowering deeper, as if trying to pull away from the gun that's pressed up to my head. Bonebreaker pushes me to my back, a hand ripping my jacket open, and the gun moves to the Skull on my chest. I can tell the gun's about to fire..
like the fire in my.. My arm raises up, under the Peacebringer's power. I know I can't move it myself, and he shouldn't be able to either.. But my voice echoes out, that musical peal matching the smoky anger of Bonnie Tyler as it yells out.. "Blood!!!" I can feel it's energy rip out through my fingers, directly into Bonebreaker's chin. It's perfectly aimed, the knockback sending him sailing right into the Capo.. knocking both unconcious as the music settles into it's solo - peaceful, restful.. just the thing to let the aching body subside, let me get back to my feet.. and to finish the arrest.
The hostages have to help me out - but they're smiling. They get to be heroes too. And maybe that's not such a bad ending..
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life
Larger than life..
(( Psst. Hi there. Just wanted to re-mentioned the Heroic Harmonies event.
I've tried to get ahold of everyone that expressed interest for this in PMs. If I haven't, please let me know. The ways to get ahold of me are numerous, the most reliable being YIM probably. YIM me at annthemun or send me a PM in here if you'd like to participate.
Looks like great work, everyone! I'll have something in soon, myeslf. ))
(Mistress Ohm)
Tiny tiny, a little faith
I bet he played a little, bend the norm
Stay still, sit up straight
You know you got to concentrate
Mistress Ohm was jaded. Completely. The S&M scene, being a domme, it was all BORING to her. She'd been one of the more notorious ones to get into playing with electricity, and had gone so far as to write a research paper on the effects of power on Juicer Freaks that had been captured. But, she thought their methods crude, their practice of just .. GRAFTING.. massive apparatus to their bodies ... to them it was just plain chaos. And yet... she could see herself joining them. That was what scared her.
Oh pick it up, and put it in
You chose a great party
Tiny tiny, a little faith
I bet he played a little, bend the norm
The clubs... the private parties... the men that ould call her and beg to be tortured, dominated, abused... the money... all of it... was meaningless. Where had the spirit, the love, the PLEASURE gone? She had no idea. But like a rat on a treadmill, she kept doing the same things, seeing the same people, and continued to get more.. and more.. and more disenchanted with the whole thing.
Play it on
Play, play it on
Play it on
Play, play it on
Play it on
Play, play it on
Play it on
Play, play it on
Play it on....
And then it all changed.
She'd met a few superheroes at some of the parties... and although at the time they seemed just like another group of people with their own agenda, the Rikti invasion woke her up. The people she'd counted on to keep her safe were gone. The cops and the fire departments and the EMT's were all busy. Someone had to pick up the reins.
And Statesman started deputizing people. It didn't much matter what they could do, as long as it was semi-useful.
She started small at first. Handheld tasers, with a range of about 20 feet. Then she tried tesla coils and static discharges. Over the course of years the young inventor built what would become her power suit. It incorporated all the ideas she'd had for her previous 'pursuits'... but brought them into the light as crimefighting weapons.
Justice would be her pleasure. No more hedonism. Time to become a heroine, and not just a dilletante.
Saddle up, and get the tape
Saddle up and get the tape
Wrap me up, and tear me down
Red tape fill up all this ground
Tiny tiny, a little faith
I bet he played a little, bend the norm
Stay still, sit up straight
You know you got to concentrate
From the first day on the job, she felt better. It still wasn't enough to dispel the totally bored outlook she had on life outside of crimefighting... but instead it filled a void she never knew was there. A void of Purpose.
Mistress Ohm was back. And this time, she wasn't going to run in circles.
Play it on
Play, play it on
Play it on
Play, play it on
Play it on
Play, play it on
Play it on
Play, play it on
Play it on....
Agent Provocateur - Red Tape
From soundtracks of "the Jackal" and "Underworld"
"City of Heroes. April 27, 2004 - August 31, 2012. Obliterated not with a weapon of mass destruction, not by an all-powerful supervillain... but by a cold-hearted and cowardly corporate suck-up."
((Mindora))
Veteran of the Psychic Wars Blue Oyster Cult from the albums Fire of Unknown Origin and Heavy Metal (Soundtrack)
Note: This takes place shortly after Issue 4 came out
around the time I stopped playing Mindora regularly (she was my main, up until then). OOCly, the reason I stopped playing her is because she was Level 31, had finished the Striga Island content, and I didnt want to outlevel Croatoa, which was a mere rumor at the time for Issue 5 with a projected level range of 30-40. Of course, now its here and shes already outleveled the first half of it
cest la vie. And now, the reason for her absence, through her own eyes
Ill be cutting out the first chorus for the purpose of the flow of the story as it parallels the song, but other than that, the song is unedited.
Disclaimer: Pokémon and all related names and characters are owned by Nintendo, Game Freak, 4Kids, and whoever else. If my use of references to this copyrighted world, on which Mindora is loosely based (loosely meaning shes not a pre-existing character from that world, but is sort of a species of that world modified to fit into CoH) disqualify me from Heroic Harmonies, so be it. But Mindys the only character I have a theme song for, so ahead I go
.
You see me now a veteran of a thousand psychic wars
Ive been living on the edge so long
Where the winds of limbo roar
And Im young enough to look at
And far too old to see
All the scars are on the inside
Im not sure if theres anything left of me
Old.
Mindora felt so old, lately. And she shouldnt: she was decanted less than one year ago, in a secret Crey facility known only as Laboratory R-395. Even her genetic parents, whose thoughts her mind had been plagued with psychic echoes of, were young; her mother had been a girl of maybe ten years when she died, probably less, and her father, a clone like herself, had been no older than she was now at the point the memories end.
And yet
.
And yet it seemed that, for all their lives, Mindora and her father had been fighting their own separate wars for freedom. Rocket, Crey
they all blended together in Mindys mind now. The constant battles, the rebellion against the fate that seemed to have been determined for them from before they were created
she wasnt even sure, anymore, how much of the fight was hers and how much was her fathers.
You ask me why Im weary, why I cant speak to you
You blame me for my silence
Say its time I changed and grew
But the wars still going on dear
And theres no end that I know
And I cant say if were ever...
I cant say if were ever gonna to be free
Shadeburn had been hounding her for weeks. What has gotten into you, Mindy?! Theres no reason for you to be so damned morose! Weve had it good. Were recognized heroes, weve put several archvillains in jail
Were living in a Rattata hole; Thunder Mouse is STILL missing, probably DEAD by now, and for all my telepathic abilities I cant find a single gorram lead on her location
and Crey knows where I am now.
Shadeburn rolled her eyes. Oh, for Moltres sake, Mindy, weve had this argument before
they were after Lauren, not you.
At the time, yes. But theyve been hunting me ever since I escaped, Shadey. Why do you think I was still in hiding for a month after you got your hero license? You just dont get it. Theyre finished with you. You were a test subject, a freaking guinea pig. They proved what they wanted with you and tossed you aside! But I was always intended to be their weapon. Just like I was intended to be Giovannis weapon before. As long as Crey exists, they will never stop hunting me
Ill never be free. Not until theyre stopped for good
Shadeburn just looked at her funny.
like Mewtwo was intended to be Giovannis weapon, you mean.
Mindora blinked in surprise. Thats
what I said, isnt it? At Shadeburns shake of her head, she cringed. The echoes were becoming stronger
she wasnt sure where Mewtwo ended and she began, anymore. And it scared her.
Dont let these shakes go on
Its time we had a break from it
Its time we had some leave
Weve been living in the flames
Weve been eating out our brains
Oh, please dont let theses shakes go on
You see me now a veteran of a thousand psychic wars
My energys spent at last
And my armor is destroyed
I have used up all my weapons and Im helpless and bereaved
Wounds are all Im made of
Did I hear you say that this is victory?
[ QUOTE ]
I rocketed away from the destroyed compound. Giovannis hold on me had finally been shattered, the armor he claimed focused my powers falling apart around me as I flew off, symbolic of his bonds on me that had been broken. I went to the only other place I knew, the island of my birth
no, my creation. I was not born a Pokémon, I was created. And there, I collapsed. Weakened. I had used most of my power to destroy Giovannis fortress, and it was all I could do to keep my presence from being discovered. I was hurt, tired. I needed to rest before I could rebuild
before I could enact my revenge on the humans who had made me to be a slave
[/ QUOTE ]
Mindoras eyes snapped open. The dream again
the dream that she was her father, that she was living his life
.
Quietly, she slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Shadeburns sleep. She scrawled a brief note, leaving it beside the bed. Hovering over to the window of their Kings Row apartment, she silently opened it and flew out into the night
.
Dont let these shakes go on
Its time we had a break from it
Send me to the rear
Where the tides of madness swell
And been sliding into hell
Oh, please dont let shakes go on
Dont let these shakes go on
Dont let these shakes go on
I cant go on like this, Shadeburn read aloud. The constant running and fighting, the strain Ive been putting on my powers
its slowly eating away at my mind, driving me mad. My fathers mind-echoes are slowly taking over. I need to leave Paragon
to get away for awhile. To find someone who can help me find myself again.
I dont know how long Ill be gone. But I will be back, once I am myself again. Dont worry about me, Shadey
and dont wait up.
Clutching the note to her chest, Shadeburn stared out the still-open window. A single teardrop escaped her eye. Oh, Mindy
she murmured. Be careful out there, will you? She knew Mindora couldnt hear her
and yet, maybe she could sense her thoughts.
It would have to do.
War Cat, EarthShade, BrightShard, Chakat Streak, Chakamil Silverspot, Mindora, Diabolesse, Jasper Baen
KGBSS8: Agent Ravage, Pestilence Girl, Umbral Claw, Howlback, Dr. Glit
Young Phalanx: Necril, Blazing Witch
Song: Simple and Clean by Utada Hikaru
From the game Kingdom Hearts
Temple of Rhian: Unknown Pacific Island
1204 A.D.
Before sunset
The breeze came off the sea like it always did at night, with a renewed vigor. As it speed up the beach over the breaking waves, it flew into Masaki and I. He sat leaning against a tree, and I was wrapped in his arms in front of him. Up on the small hill that overlooked the beach, my hair began to whip around, the small beads at the tips of many of the locks clattering against each other. Masaki chuckled, I could feel his chest raise and fall against my back as he did.
"They bothering you?" The question was directed at him, but I remained staring forward, outward into the endless sea. His hands, wrapped around my waist, squeezed tight for a moment.
"They are easily ignored, helah. Besides, " and here he leaned forward and kissed me on that sensitive spot on the back of my neck. "I get to do that." A lover's smile spread across my face as I leaned back onto his shoulder. My hand slipped up from its side and began to trace the ridges of his ear, as we just watched the waves come in. The breakers were the only sound, and soon their rhythmic cresting and retreating were matched beat for beat by Masaki and I drawing breaths in and out.
"What do you think is out there?" Who knows how many minutes have pass before I asked the question. Again, I did not look at him as I address him. He does not need to clarify, it is something we always thought about back at the Temple. There were some contact with a few other islands, but beyond that, we knew nothing of life beyond our own, small, little world.
"I intend to find out one day." At this, I finally turned up to look at him. He still looked forward, out towards the ocean, but there was a glimmer of action, of wonder and resolve in his eyes. "Not anytime soon, helah, but perhaps when I am old. I intend to spend my last breaths out there, beyond what we can see."
"Do not talk like that. That seems so far off, you and I old. What of me, you would just leave me be?" He chuckled again, and the feeling of it warmed me even more then the hardy sound that filled my ears.
"Oksah, Oksah, I am not sure I could ever leave you, or even understand how I would live without you. Besides, I need a priestess to carry my food for me out there." The hand caressing his ear batted him playfully upside the head. I knew he was joking, and his eyes, those deep blue eyes, flashed an apology. We settled back down into silence again, the sun starting its final descent into those unspoken lands Masaki dreamed to visit one day.
"I would go with you." He chuckled again, and squeezed me even closer to himself as a response. "Masaki, I am not kidding." I leaned forward, and turned so we were facing each other, breaking contact for the first time all evening. "You and me, swimming as far as we can go, getting to see what no one else has? It would be Rhian's own gift to the two of us, before we pass on." The idea was infectious, and I could assume he saw in my eyes what I saw in his. He laughed once more, and cupped both his hands around mine.
"Then, priestess, this I pledge to you. We journey out there when our time comes. And if one of us should pass on before that happens..."
"Do not be silly dear." My naivety made the request sound more innocent then normal.
"...it could happen, helah. If it does, then...
Talos Island Bay
September 14, 2005
Sunset
"...the other must go." I whisper the rest of oath to myself, and look up. The waves are not the same, the war walls make sure of that. But it is, technically, a body of water, and good enough to fulfill my end of the bargain. No one, not Celai, Adi, even Terra, understand why I come out on this day, every year, and swim as far out to sea as I can.
"I made it over, dear. I think you would love it here. Not sure we would have made it back then, but still..." I lazily float on my back, cursing the heavens above for taking Masaki from me what seems so long ago. "...there are people here you would like as well, people I want you to meet. I doubt Marie is what we would have thought as a daughter, but you would love her. I, I almost see parts of you in her, the way she tilts her head to the side just a bit...but it is false hope I know."
The sun finally sets below the war wall, shadows instantly creeping out, cast in the barrier's cool glow. "About Kyou, I hope you would understand, dear. I...I never meant to let go like that, thought you were the only one. I wanted to hang on to what we had, never let any one replace you, Masaki. I do not think he has, and still..." Tears I promised my self I would contain begin to flow. Thankfully, if anyone asks, I can hide them in the salty sea water around me. "...I still do love you Masaki. Do not be angry at me for Kyou, please."
There is so much more I want to say to the lover that is not here, to explain, to beg forgiveness for, to share, but at least, for this year, that is all. One final glance out into the waters before I begin to swim on back to shore.
Refrain -
When you walk away
You don't hear me say please
Oh baby, don't go
Simple and clean is the way that you're making me feel tonight
It's hard to let it go
You're giving me too many things
Lately you're all I need
You smiled at me and said,
Don't get me wrong I love you
But does that mean I have to meet your father?
When we are older you'll understand
What I meant when I said "No,
I don't think life is quite that simple"
(Refrain)
The daily things
that keep us all busy
all confusing me thats when u came to me and said,
Wish i could prove i love you
but does that mean i have to walk on water?
When we are older you'll understand
It's enough when i say so,
And maybe somethings are that simple
(Refrain)
Hold me
Whatever lies beyond this morning
Is a little later on
Regardless of warnings the future doesn't scare me at all
Nothing's like before
Arc #345863 - When The Bough Breaks
"Curse you Perry the Plata...wait, is that Love Handel?" - Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz, Phineas and Ferb
((w00t, Hikaru FYI, the Japanese version is called Hikari and one of my favorites ))
((The music (wait for the cue!) is "Riseross" from the Justirisers soundtrack, which I'm sure none of you have. *cries* Bug me for a link if you want to hear it.))
"Macht Schnell. We don't have long."
Archon Kruger glared at his squad, as they worked on searing away the joints on the vault door. They grunted in affirmation, but then resumed muttering to each other.
"Why does he do that? He's not even German."
"Shh! Don't say that too loud, he might have another episode."
"Yeah, you don't want to end up like that hero out front, do you?"
"Hf...I still can't believe we managed to off a hero -and- a squid in the same day."
"And now, we're about to make off with a choice-cut Dissonance Crystal. Praise be to the Center."
"Yeah-"
---------
"...hey...hey you..."
"...nani? Have I...is this the afterlife...?"
"Nn...no, it's...listen. My name is Soundaslodian. I-HHK!..."
"Where is this...? My friend, be still..."
"Nn...no time!"
"There is always time. I hear no angels singing, after all-"
"A-angels...singing? Ha ha!...if you knew the sort of songs I've composed..."
"...I do. What is going on?"
"Mental link must have really worked...look, we're...I don't know why, but your body's ended up near where they shot me down."
"Body? Link...then you are...ah. Sou."
"Yes. I'm a Kheldian. But I...agh...don't know how to...I never wanted a part in this stupid war-"
"Fate, Soundas-san. It has brought you this far..."
"...hheh...I don't believe in that sort of...oh well. What have I got to lose by trying?"
----------
"Got it!"
Archon Kruger nodded, and watched as the vault door fell aside with a loud clang.
"Excellent work, meinen herren. Let us take this prize and-"
"What's that noise?"
Kruger glared at his subordinate.
"I hear no noise, lackey. Do not interrupt me again."
"But...yes, sir."
"Hmm?"
The man sighed.
"Jerwohl, herr Kruger."
Smiling, the Archon moved towards the Dissonance Crystal, not noticing the increasing hiss that began to fill the chamber.
----------
"I don't feel merged...blast! I knew this'd never-"
"I...feel...renewed..."
"Wh-...no, no, that's your mind starting to give out. I'm afraid that we wouldn't be having this conversation if the merge succeeded."
"...koi, Soundas-san."
"H-hey! Wait, if this -did- work, then we've hit some kind of...of waypoint between two physical states! We shouldn't-"
"Ssh. Listen."
"...that's...beautiful..."
"Let the harmony of existance fill your ears, Soundas-san."
"Yes...yes, I think..."
"...it is time..."
"...for revenge."
----------
"Keep an eye out for any back-up security measures," barked Kruger.
"Jehrwohl, herr Kr----."
"----?!"
Krugar stopped abruptly.
"---- -- ----?"
He glanced at his men. Their lips were moving, but all he could hear was-
----------
((Cue Music.))
----------
All the lights went out. Heavy percussion thundered through their bodies as the Council troops drew their rifles and whirled around, looking for a target. Feathery strings sang through the air.
A gleaming tentacle appeared, near the entrance. It seemed to be plucking at a Shinto-like instrument constructed of a similar gleaming material. Soon, another tentacle appeared, slowly drawing itself back and forth over a long stringed instrument.
Briefly, light gleamed over a metallic guitar.
The electric chords slammed through the room as the white armoured figure, tentacles and instruments protruding from his shoulders, slowly approached the villains. One Council member collapsed on the spot, a heavy chord rupturing a blood vessel in his jaw. The armoured hero's shock-white eyes glared at the villains, mercilessly. His short, white hair crowned the ethereal glow that emanated from his reborn body.
Desperately, Kruger hurled a fragmentation grenade at the hero. Those of his men that still stood opened fire as well.
With an explosion of pure white, the hero rocketed into the air as bullets and fire obliterated the spot he once stood in. As the white ebbed away, the Council members stared up at the alien lifeform that flew overhead. The Mefnanim's tentacles still played singing strings of musical force, taking the lead as the electric guitar took a movement of reprieve. Shining bolts of music lanced into the Council troops, soon felling the entire group. Except for Kruger.
The Archon stumbled back as the Mefnanim's form exploded into light. The hero's armoured feet slammed into the ground as electric chords and heavy percussion overtook the piece's final movement. A third set of tentacles played the guitar, as the hero's hands menacingly hung to his sides.
Kruger snarled, throwing a trained kick towards his opponent's throat. A white-armoured hand parried the blow as another snatched the cuff of the Archon's jacket. Kruger's eyes widened as he gaped into the face of a man whose life he thought he had ended not 20 minutes prior.
Daisuke looked into the fear-stricken eyes of his murderer. The lower half of his face, forcefully removed not 20 minutes prior, was now a swirling vortex of glowing white.
As the music moved into its final climax, Daisuke pulled Archon Kruger's face closer to his own...
...and screamed.
----------
((Music Ends.))
----------
The white scarf twisted through the summer breeze as it fell over the lower half of Daisuke's face. A glowing Mefnanim head emerged from the back of his spine as he watched the sunset.
"Ah...Daisuke, was it? Listen, that was very impressive and all-"
"...hnn..."
"...and I must admit, it was quite exhilerating, at the time-"
"...hnn..."
"A...and somewhat satisfying, considering how many times that cur shot me-"
"...hnn..."
"I said earlier that I wanted no part of this war, and I still don't, but..."
"...yes..."
"A duet, then?"
Daisuke nodded slightly, another breeze blowing perfectly through his white hair. His echoing voice audibly gave the impression of a man trying to speak without a mouth or throat.
"...we will...compose...a new anthem...of justice..."
"Er...I...suppose. Yes. Alright."
The orange sky slowly faded away into the night.
"...could you not disintegrate anyone else's head off like that, please? Vengeance and all, yes, but it really was quite appalling."
The man chuckled.
Soon, the Kheldian chuckled.
As the evening sky took its first breath of life, Daisuke Mugen chuckled.
DJs for The Cape Radio
Makes videos & podcasts about reviewing toys, covering conventions, and more at Vangelus.ca
(( Yep, I know it's October. *Cough* And I promise I'll do better next month... Here's my first writing challenge ever, though the lyrics weren't included, it's to Krickette's current theme, Ballroom Blitz by Sweet. Thanks to Shinsektor for allowing me to use... Shinsektor! ))
Electric Chemistry
(or "First Date")
There was an uneasy silence between the pair of insectoids as they moved through the dark halls of the warehouse. Colorful streamers decorated the room, hanging off of masks with eyes that wept violet. Krickette had never been to a Carnival party, but the humming of kazoos matched with the pounding of a stereo was offensive to her sensitive ears, both sets.
The situation was uneasy at best and the two seemed to be complete opposites. He strode forward cautiously enough, but Krickette sped from box to box, keeping herself well hidden.
For one reason or another, the black armored female had chosen to tag along and though the Insectoid Knight found her presence to be a minor nuisance, he indulged her.
Stand back. Let me show you how this is done. He flicked his wrist forward in a smooth, well practiced motion. Green chitin shifted to the side revealing a thin point emerging from his wrist. It was flat and a few inches wide, curving like the end of a blade but it seemed to pulse with veins. It pushed forth slowly for the first few inches, emerging from his arm as if from nowhere.
It was slick, glistening in soft purple light, but Krickette only had one comment.
"Ew."
"Ew?!"
"Yeah. Ew."
The green insectoid's eyes would've narrowed if they could've, his voice rising in a moment of anger. He had no idea why he'd even agreed to this, "Listen, if you've got a problem with--"
Just then a female voice chimed, "You won't stop our fun, Shinsektor!"
"Great! Now look what you've done!"
"What I've done?!" Krickette snapped back in a hissing whisper, still careful not to get away her position.
The outfits of the Carnival seemed to match their colorful surroundings. A woman in a golden and indigo jester's hat, wearing rather flamboyant clothing came around the corner and pointed a gleaming rapier in Shinsektor's direciton, "Kill him." These words she practically sang.
"I don't have time to argue with you!" Funny enough, he wasn't talking to the woman who had just threatened to kill him.
The katana-shaped blade came across the rapier in an even swing in front of him, knocking the rapier to the side with a sudden 'clink'. Carnies poured out of the hallway, Strongmen and Seneschals focusing their efforts on Shinsektor. A piece of flooring impacted his shoulder, tossed by one of the Strongmen. Chitin cracked from the force of the blow, spider web cracks spiraling out from his shoulder but just as quickly, starting from the middle they seemed to heal.
From Krickette's point of view, he wasn't approaching this with any mind for tactics at all. He leaned backward, narrowly avoiding a thick fisted punch aimed for his head before slicing a clean cut across the Strongman's chest. Veins pulsed and thickened and, oddly, the wound didn't seem to bleed as much as it should've.
From Shinsektor's point of view, she was standing there, doing nothing, in some sort of martial arts pose.
God. Idiot.
Lazy little wanna-be.
He spun in a circle, blade slicing through fancy clothing and soft skin, "Were you planning on doing anything or--"
Krickette had just leapt into combat, a blur of motion, and she had to lean back to narrowly avoid the blade. It clipped her chitinous shoulder pad deeply.
"Are you trying to kill me?!"
"Stay out of the way!"
"You're supposed to avoid your allies you know!"
"You leapt right into that, after standing around staring!"
"I was waiting for an opening!"
"There were tons of openings!"
"I'm sorry if my tactics don't involve just getting hit and luckily healing fast!"
"Yeah, your tactics don't involve fighting!"
"Talk later! Fight now!" She screeched back at him.
The fight was messy at best. They were being pressed inward, fighting back to back, but Krickette kept finding herself having to narrowly avoid his blade, but the peak of awkwardness came near the end when she reflexively mule-kicked him squarely in the back.
Crack!
"Ow?!" He stumbled forward, holding his lower back with a chitinous hand. It was already healing, but that was hardly the point.
Clearly, Krickette at least was used to fighting alone.
"You weren't supposed to be there!"
"You're not supposed to be here!" He turned to her swiftly, his katana shooting off to the side to hamstring an Attendant, knocking her to the ground. Again, the blade narrowly missed her. They glared at each other for a long moment, his eyes burning as red as the sun in the darkness, casting a glow of the golden lenses of her helmet.
The truth was he was so much like her and she hated him for it. She was convinced that any moment he would turn and try to kill her. She might as well learn his tactics before he can use them against her... But there was something different about him, he wanted to do this, be a hero and, for as much as she disliked him, she was also intrigued by him.
"Come on, tar streak."
But the intrigue was fading fast.
"Coming, double mint."
"Double mint?!"
"Keep moving."
It seems they were wading through these dark hallways to the main event. Empty bottles laid all over the floors along with a few other illicit objects. Krickette tip-toed carefully around them while, Shinsektor seemed to be determined to get to the main event so to speak. The fights to come would be no less awkward, a stray elbow here, the back of a blade there. While neither of them were wounded by the stray hits, it didn't help the already tense situation.
He was a hero. Somehow he'd managed to go through things so much like what she went through and still want that. She hated him for that, too, and she had no qualms about voicing it.
He didn't react well to that.
Broad pieces of silk hung in the air above the ballroom, sweeping down like broad strokes of a paint brush overhead. It seemed to be a ball room of sorts. Cheerful music was playing as a woman with a large, frilly ruff around her neck acted as if she was conducting a waltz in piano. Long stockings with a diamond pattern travelled up her legs, held by garter belts to barely there shorts. She turned with a delighted purr to Shinsektor who was standing in the doorway.
"Aah.. Darling." She took one look at Krickette with that ever grinning mask and began to swagger forward, "You have a son? Oooh. I didn't know you were capable of reproduction. We have uses for you then."
"I'm.. not... his kid." But it wasn't that comment that bothered her. Anger was burning in the back of her throat, something began to swell up right underneath her heart.
"Sorry to interrupt your party, but it's about time you packed up your things."
"Oh, darling... The party's just getting started. Why don't you join us?" She put her hand over her lips and blew a sensual kiss in his direction, "I'd love for you to--"
CRACK.
"Boot.. to the head." Krickette growled as the woman in the skimpy clothing reeled from the blow. No one was sure what just happened. The three of them, the two insectoids and the ring mistress looked to each other. Shinsektor was stunned speechless as Krickette stood there, hands balled into fists. The ring mistress held the side of her head, reeling from the force of the blow.
"Guess we're fighting now." Shinsektor took advantage of the enemy's stunned state, leaping forward with his katana over head. He brought it down in a single, strong slash down her arm. Again, the veins in the blade pulsed. Again, it didn't bleed as much as it should've. Things were different this time. A square kick to the back of the woman by Kricky put her in range of Shin's katana again. This time a wide, sweeping stroke cut her stomach. The movements were instantaneous, synchronized.
Her body dropped to the floor, hands flat against the ground and she hooked the ring mistress' ankles in a sweeping kick as Shinsektor brought the back of the blade in across her shoulders with a sudden 'THUD'. Her feet went backward, her face came forward and abruptly met the floor.
They'd worked together perfectly, in harmony, with no scrapes or bruises on either of their parts. Krickette gave the woman's thigh a brutal kick and pointed down accusingly at her.
"And your fashion sense sucks too."
And, much to her surprise, she heard a chortling laugh across from her, on the other side of the ring mistress' body. Krickette's head lifted, Shinsektor looked down and their eyes met for a second. Tension and disliked had turned to sudden, new awkwardness. There was something different just then, for just a moment.
"Hey, we work pretty well together..." Shinsektor offered in an attempt to be friendly.
Krickette blushed underneath the helmet, thankful that her face couldn't be seen. Why was she blushing? Her arms crossed across her chest, closing her posture.
"Yeah... That was pretty cool, that.. total.. kame kazi thing you did with the sword."
"Yeah, and that boot to the head completely caught her off guard."
"Well, you seemed to be busy flirting." she said somewhat accusingly.
"Flirting?! You know, I could have done this without your help."
"Yeah. Right." Abruptly, she turned her back on him, arms crossed over her chest. He followed suit. It was a common sight in Gemini.
"Tar streak."
"Kermy."
They stood there for a time, slinging insults, but something changed that day. From that point on, whenever Krickette saw him she couldn't help but feel nervous, even though she didn't know why.
Why thank you, Rose!
Jarissa
Scrapper roleplayer, Member of Wyldfire