An invitation to a formal party ((OPEN ROLEPLAY))
By
DJ_Shecky,
Posted on: 2005-09-18 10:32 in Roleplaying
The caterer looked at the waiter as he returned with the tray of food she had helped to rescue from falling just minutes earlier, then she looked at the tray.
The waiter was looking a little shaky and his uniform had some bits of shrimp and caviar splattered on it...The tray was slightly bent, as if it had softened a landing...and the food on it was ruined. She closed her eyes and sighed, "Take 5 and get a spare jacket from the van...but I need you back here in 5, got it?" She opened her eyes to see her waiter nod, and then walk carefully out of the kitchen.
A new tray was prepared complete with caviar. The missing caviar had simply been placed out of sight, thank heaven. Then she sent the waiter back out with the new tray....
Shae Firewarder
"GAGE! Get in here."
The rookie paused for a moment as the District Seven chief bellowed from his office, even as coffee continued to stream from the pot he was dangling over Captain Joe Gage's worn, but comfortable cup. Yet with a upturned eyebrow and a gentle wave of the hand the mighty Maltese Knight, known as 'Cap' to the crew of Engine Two-Five, stared the probationary firefighter back into action just as the dark brown elixer reached the brim of the container.
Shift change.
Between cups of pick-me-ups, lies about the latest fishing trip and the most recent dirt-encrusted rumors of the Paragon City Fire Department, Captain Gage rose from the miniscule chair, took a long draw from his favorite mug of joe, and winked at his former crew. "You piss Chief off, probie? You DO realize if he chews MY <BLEEP>, the crap's gonna flow downhill, right?"
Stifling his own outburst of laughter by biting a lip, Jimmy 'Buckethead' Dunn peered at the already fidgeting firefighter still holding the steaming pot of coffee. "I dunno what to say, Cap. I guess they just don't make 'em like they used to." A chorus of agreement rising from the table, a rustling of chairs, the rattling of the Times, and the ever present background din of radio traffic... Shift change. The opening salvo of another 24 hours of dedicated service to the citizens of Paragon City.
Squeezing his herculean form through the chief's office doorway only greets Captain Gage with yet another gruff exclamation from the District Chief himself. A grizzled veteran, a man rumored to have had his badge pinned to his bare chest, growled deeply as he pushed the cream colored envelope across his desk toward the still hunched over form of the Maltese Knight.
"What th' hell is this, Joe? I'm tryin' to run my district here. But I'm busy gettin' calls from Headquarters, the Commissioner's office, some God-forsaken clown with th' Mayor's IMAGE COMMITTEE... Do I look like a damn bookin' agent, Joe? Am I schedulin' your public appearances now?" For emphasis, Chief pushes the envelope even farther, as if its plague-lined contents could thermonuclearly explode in any second. And not allowing for a response, he continues.
"Anyway, word from Downtown says you gotta attend. Represent the Department. Class A dress, badge and bugles, the whole nine yards." Taking the envelope from the desk and sliding a thick, calloused finger beneath its flap, Captain Gage sees the invitation, scanning it nonchalantly as his eyes drift back to Chief and his fingers that drum rapidly on the desk. The silence hangs for a moment until finally Chief waves his hand toward the door. "Dismissed." And with a nod, the Maltese Knight moves toward the exit.
"And Joe... Try not to break nothin'."
ulia was over checking out the hors deuves when Roy was downing his eighth drink. The party was starting to seem livelier.
And you are
? an attractive brunette with a French accent said, placing her hand on the bulge of his bicep that challenged the seams of his jacket.
Uh
Names Roy.
Oh? Now I know a boy as beeg as vous eez not a ceevilian.
Roy smiled and looked around for Julia. She had a small plate in her hand, but seemed to be having trouble deciding what appetizer was what. That was one of the reasons he liked her so much. She was, like him, a regular person, not a socialite.
Tu et le superhero? Which one?
Oh. Uh
Ya probly aint heard o me. Im known as HEROID.
Oh! Zut alors! B-but ze Heroid he eez ze robot!
Oh yeah, well
Ya know
I
Actuly Im a guy in a suit o armor.
The French woman squeezed his bicep, then moved her hand across the expanse of his chest.. Ze armor eez big, non?
Non. I mean yeah, its big. Uh
Th armor, that is.
Roy was at that in-between point, drink-wise. A few more, he was afraid, and Frenchy would be able to whisk him off somewhere more private. So he looked over to the where the food was spread to see if he could get Julias attention. She was gone.
Oh, geez
She seen me talkin ta this foreign gal
Suddenly, Frenchy was uncomfortably close. She was invading his personal space. Space he had reserved for someone else.
Uh
scuse me, he said and walked away.
Behind him, Frenchy stood with her arms akimbo for a moment until a handsome young man with a neatly trimmed beard strode by.
Bon soir, she said, smiling as she placed a slender hand on his shoulder. Je m'appelle Genevieve.
Bon soir, Lady Genevieve, he replied. My name is Parzival.
If Roy had turned around he would have laughed, but he was focused on finding Julia.
In a corner of the garden, almost hidden from sight by a stand of ornamental trees, a baby grand Steinway had been set up. Roy had been drawn to it because, well, someone was playing a familiar song. He was very surprised to find Julia sitting at the keyboard.
She
I
he stammered, I hope ya aint mad
Julia didnt look up, but kept playing.
Look, Julia, I dont even know her.
Julias fingers kept moving carefully over the keyboard, hesitating in places, searching for the next note.
She kinda wuz
Julia started laughing softly.
I mean
Julia looked up at him and laughed out loud. You should have seen the look on your face when put her hand on your chest. You rooster.
Ya aint mad?
She laughed again, and shook her head. You worry too much, Roy.
Her carefree smile settled his mind and he began to listen to her play again.
Yer pretty good.
Nah. Its just an etude I learned when I was in high school. I had some friends that played a little. Wed mess around with it sometimes. Roy watched her fingers dance over the keys. No real lessons.
Ya play pretty. I like that song.
Song?
Yeah. Its a Chicago song
Color My World.
When the tune came back around, Roy began singing
As time goes on I realize
His voice, bolstered by the courage of alcohol, was somewhere between Joe Cocker and Tom Waites, even if it was slightly offkey.
Just what you mean to me.
Even though he had meant to sing only to Julia, several people had already heard the singing and playing and were wandering over to see what was going on.
And now, now that you're near,
Promise your love
Roy looked into Julias eyes as he sang. Blue, laughing eyes, that looked up at him for a moment before turning back to watch her fingers pick the notes on the piano.
That I've waited to share,
And dreams of our moments together.
The people who had assembled in a small audience behind Roy were silent, as if they knew knowledge of their presence would end the performance.
Color my world with hope of loving you
Roy finished the song and dropped to one knee, his only intention, to steal a kiss.
Thats when a chorus of, Awwws went up, along with whispers of, Hes going to propose!
Roy turned a deep red and looked to Julia helplessly. She gave him a sympathetic look.
Geez, people
Someone Roy was pretty sure it was Kelp, but if so he was sufficiently hidden behind the group of onlookers shouted, Go ahead Roy, dont let us stop you!
The people murmured in concurrence and urged him to propose.
Waitaminute! Roy stood up. Look, I wuz just gonna kiss th girl. We aint been datin but a little while.
Looked like you were gonna do more than kiss to me!
Roy was almost certain that was Kelp.
Look, I dont wanna embarrass Julia, here
I mean
She is special.
A few of the group began to disperse when he announced there would be no proposal. The rest waited to see what else he had to say.
Shes got a magic kiss.
That remark quirked a few eyebrows.
Roy offered Julia his hand and led her out into the garden.
Beatrice McAllister (aka Mistress Ohm), with a younger girl in tow, showed up in a tailored catsuit-and-cape combo that, while revealing her every curve, also covered her from the neck down. Normally her costumes were more revealing, but she didn't want to give the wrong impression. The black-and-red colors of her and her companion's outfits said one thing: The Stilettos were here.
Noting a couple of others from the group, she said hello, complemented them on their outfits (one had shown in mufti, if a strapless black dress -was that latex??- could be called mufti!), and then started mingling with the other guests.
She observed a very large man in what only could be called a consigliere outfit talking to a lovely french woman... he seemed to be embarrassed. Hrm.. Perhaps she'd try her luck with him later. In the meantime, she wandered around, thankfully noting none of her former clients among the guests. Running across one of THEM might have been... awkward.
Strangely, she had yet to run across Alexandre. She wanted to thank him for the invitation, and wish him a 'bon anniversaire' properly... she snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, noted her companion had already found a handsome young hero to talk to (careful, girl!), so she took a stroll through the garden, admiring the statuary. She spent a long time checking out what appeared at first glance to be an ice sculpture... but it wasn't ice. Was it crystal? Glass? Something else? Whatever it was... it, no SHE, was exquisite.
She set the empty champagne glass down, climbed up on the pedestal, and couldn't help but run a hand across the statue's cheekbone...
"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."
William Hunt eyed the estate with some fascination. Ironically he'd looked in this neighborhood (if you could call sprawling multi-acre estates a neighborhood) only a few months prior, but had decided penthouse life was more his style. Stepping out of his convertible and grabbing his tux jacket from the miniscule back seat, he handed the keys to the valet with a sizable donation to the Please Dont Dent My Baby fund wrapped around them. Taking a brief moment to look over the side entry to the mansion, he followed a couple walking in ahead of him.
The gardens were absolutely breathtaking. He couldnt even imagine the sheer number of gardeners it must take to keep everything impeccable trimmed and in place. The caterers were also quite busy and it took several passes of trays loaded down with empty glasses before he found a waiter with a full tray of champagne. He winked at her (she was probably all of twenty, but breathtaking even in a tuxedo) and slipped a little something onto the tray for her troubles.
There were few familiar faces present. Most of them hed seen on the TV, and a few hed actually stood next to waiting for a tram to come to send him off on his next adventure. He chuckled a bit, fancying himself a jet-setting superhero with a fast car, a secret cave and a bevy of nifty devices. He was so far from that truth it actually pained him to even consider it. Walking through the crowd, he sipped at the champagne and tried to spy any familiar, friendly face. And of course he wasnt immune to the glances of the randomly scattered guys wearing earpieces. Of course thered be security here. After all, it was probably the single largest gathering of the influential and powerful hed seen since he had set foot back in Paragon City.
Brianna knew she had the prize tonight, and she was planning on defending her position on Alex's arm with all the charm and beauty she could muster. It was unfortunate that her main rival for his attention seemed to be completely immune to anything she could do, as only a statue could be. Alex had found an excuse to head to the clearing in the garden where that statue was a number of times already this evening, and Brianna was getting tired of attempting to retrieve him to the party.
She let go of Alex's arm at his unspoken signal and found a fresh glass of champagne as he spoke to a gentleman she didn't know in Russian. She could hear their voices, but couldn't follow the conversation. Still, she could tell when they spoke of the statue. She narrowed her eyes, and if her look could have killed the statue would have been a pile of pretty ice colored shards in that moment.
Finally, Brianna saw Alex step reluctantly away from the statue to mix with his guests and moved to join him, wrapping her arm possessively around his, and smiling up at him. She flipped her golden hair in a fashion that anyone who had watched Charlie's Angels would recognise, and assured of his attention for at least the next fifteen minutes, led him away to the dance floor.
<At least that damn statue can't do the hair flip...what would I do without it? Probably watch him stare at that thing for hours as if he was in love...I wonder if I can bribe one of the more muscular and large men here tonight to "trip" and break that thing...?>
Looking behind her she saw a woman wearing a form fitting red and black outfit that she recognised as the Stilettos' colors step up on the short pedestal that the statue rested on and touch the statue's cheek...and she found herself hoping that somehow the woman would have a fit of clumsyness and tumble the statue down to the ground....
Shae Firewarder
What th hell is everybody lookin at over there?
Julia followed Roys gaze, and said, It looks like some kind of sculpture.
Party-goers were gathered around a statue which looked as if it was carved out of crystal or ice. Roy wasnt much for art. Usually, when he looked at a statue, it was to identify the stone used, and which part of the world that stone had been excavated from. He was a little rusty at it now, but this particular piece didnt seem to be any of the usual stones marble, soapstone, basalt, granite. Roy tugged Julia along with him toward the statue.
At nearly eight feet tall, Roy usually had no trouble maneuvering through a crowd. Non-combatant crowds tended to part for him as if Moses was passing through. Roy walked right up to the statue.
He looked at it. He looked at it hard. The statue was of a young woman, beautiful, dressed in some sort of Old World party gown. He could see the weave of the fabric. He could see the texture of her skin. The artwork was perfect. Too perfect. He smiled.
Watch this, Julia, he said. Then he blew in its face.
The statue stood unmoving in its magnificent whiteness.
Roy blinked. Well, damn. I figgered it wuz a real person standin still like one o them Livin thingies they do out in Hollywood when th people dress up an stand there an dont move.
Now, Julia also blinked. I have no idea what you are trying to say.
Roys mind had already moved on. He touched the statue, expecting it to be icy cold, but no, it was only mildly cool, as one would expect stone to be. But what kind of stone? If it was quartz crystal, it would have to have been cut from one of the largest crystals ever found. And with a laser. Quartz wasnt diamond, but it was hard enough to make it difficult to chisel. And the detail here
Roy felt the liquid courage in his blood concentrate into his brain. It formed a foggy tunnel in his vision, and he staggered forward into the statue.
Roy! Julia shouted and reached to grab him.
Tony Trombonis tux jacket ripped away in Julias hand as Roy toppled into the stone girl. Both were headed toward the cobblestone walkway
Grace was not an adjective popularly associated with HEROID. In the Paragon Dance Party, the DJs and the bartenders had a habit of moving equipment quickly whenever he showed up, always hoping he would stay to the middle of the dance floor and not near the stage, bar, or any of the ceiling support posts.
The Oooos and Aahhhs that followed Roys catlike movement to twist, drop to one knee, and catch the stone girl in his arms were uttered in honest amazement. A few people applauded.
The partys host did not applaud. Yet, despite the vein that had popped up on Ivonovitchs temple, he surprised Roy by maintaining his composure. When he rushed up, he was carrying no weapon. Following not far behind was a smirking Red-Eye.
You wha
? You She
Whatever Ivonovitch was trying to say, he wasnt getting it out.
Relax, pal, Roy said. I got yer statue. He stood, carefully lifting the stone girl with him, until he had her set back upon her pedestal.
Julia looked from Roy to Ivonovitch and back again. She walked a circle around the statue, looking for visible cracks. After a moment, she said, See? No harm done.
Ivonovitch made his own inspection. Roy waited to see how badly he was going to be chewed out.
Yes, he announced at length. No harm done. He shot Roy an angry look, and then began making humor of the situation, leading his guests away.
With his head still a bit foggy, Roy took the hand Julias offered, red-faced, he started to follow.
Then he looked back at the statue. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was his imagination, but, she seemed to look a bit sad now. Her expression hadnt changed -- it was more in her eyes. It was like they were watching him walk away.
Roy let go of Julias hand and went back to the stone girl.
Aww
Im sorry
I didnt mean ta knock ya down
Roy
? Julia put a hand on his shoulder.
Yer lonesome aint ya?
Roy
?
People were starting to look again. Ivonovitch had stopped, turned and was rushing back to protect his treasure. Someone Roy was pretty sure it was Kelp shouted What are you going to do, Roy, kiss her?
Roy grinned. Then he bent so that his face was in almost touching the stone girls face.
Then he kissed her.
The lips were remarkably soft for a statues.
(My apologies for the terrible Sasha. I never have managed to learn how to write the dialect)
Red-Eye sipped his champagne briefly, swirling the cup more then he was actually imbibing any alcohol. Though it was probably an outdated habit from his old days, but he never let himself go at an event held by someone he didnt trust. And trust took a lot longer to get from Aleksei then it did from most people.
Comrade Field Commander? The feminine voice sounded impossibly loud in his ear, but he doubted if anyone around him could hear or see the tiny speaker hooked invisibly over his right ear.
Da, Comrade Sasha? Red-Eye pretended to examine the champagne glass as he sub vocalized at the microphone. Years of spy training had made it almost second nature to him, and he had no doubt his microphone would pick it up.
The report you asked of Sasha is for completeness. The voice said again, Analysis of one Mikhail Ivonovitch, father of Alex Ivonovitch.
Da?
Mikhail Ivonovitch is former KGB agent. Sasha continued, and Red-Eye perked up abruptly, Left after short while to embrace capitalist ideas. Is much for ancient Russian art from Keiv and making money in business. Disappeared six months ago with no trace and is now for presuming dead. Suspicions of mafia and old KGB involvement is much for spreading.
Ah. Red-Eye nodded, mulling that over for a bit, And what do the KGB files indicate?
Is much for difficultness in retrieving, Field Commander. Sasha reported with a touch of a grimace in her voice, And is very slight. KGB reports says Ivonovitch was to meet in forest, but never appeared. Unless it is much for secretiveness, KGB does not know much mor-
A commotion suddenly distracted Alekseis attention and he spun on his heels, his hands falling to the small of his back. A composite knife, one that would not set off metal detectors, we sheathed at the small of his back, but he soon discovered it wasnt necessary.
That statue was about to depreciate dramatically though
But HEROID surprised him. Twice. First by catching the statue on the way down, and second...
Did he just kiss it?
With a sigh, Red-Eye passed his glass off to a waiter and jogged closer to the scene. Leave it to HEROID to act like a COMPLETE idiot at a black tie affair...
"Hey! That statue is a bit smarter then your usual circles, da Comrade?"
At first it was only noticable as a breath of cold air....swirling around the statue. Then there was a sudden jolt of magic, the lights went out, and there was a tremendous sound of glass shattering. The temperature in the garden plunged, and a gust of wind blew...outward from where the statue had been. In the suddenly dark garden, snow began to fall.
The girl in an archaic Russian festival gown stared at the man in front of her, who had apparently just kissed her. He was huge, and a stranger, and she was already in mid step...
She ran.
The old fashioned streetlights that had lit the garden slowly flickered back to life and their glow lit the icy landscape of the garden, the tiny ice crystals on the tree branches, the snow gently covering the ground, the empty pedestal...
Shae Firewarder
Herr watches through the jury-rigged Valkyries he's stationed around the party, each marked, "PROPERTY OF HERR AUTOMATON. DO NOT DESTROY OR I WILL KICK YOUR *****". He leans back in his seat and takes another swig of his root beer, watching the screen. "Vell, this is amusink, I guess. Needs some more explosions. Robots too. Lots uff vell armed robots. And some Council soldiers beink blown up..." Then, with some nostalgia, he switches one of the video feeds to watch the old news footage from the Council and 5th Column wars. He grins, watching the "good old days".
WOLVES AND BEES 2012
Beatrice had just turned away from the statue when she heard a commotion. NO!! It was FALLING! Oh god! She dove forward, to try and break its fall.. SHE could be transported away to a hospital, but this could not.... She skidded to a stop on her back, bonking her head against the pedestal...
and looked up to see the large Mafioso-dressed man (with a few seams of the suit ripped) holding it like he'd dip a dancer.
Well. He has some talents. Better and better. And an appreciation for art as well (even if he was a bit clumsy.)
As he set it back up on the pedestal (and Alexandre FINALLY showed up, but only to check his prize for damage), she got to her feet, completely unnoticed. That was a first. She had grass stains on her new cape, her catsuit was rumpled, she'd tossed her drink into a bush... and no one noticed?
Well, OK. The scene WAS upstaging her.
She turned to find another waiter, when the temperature suddenly plummeted. What the hell?
Wrapping her cape around her shoulders like a cloak, she whirled to see... a young girl.. dressed exactly like the statue... running thru the garden... and it was .. snowing??
Either someone had spiked the drinks with LSD and she was tripping.... or there was a LOT more going on here than she understood.
She gave chase. This was a nice neighborhood.. but scant blocks away, it got ugly. And a girl like that, dressed like that... oh no. No way.
Rising into the air, she flew after the girl....
"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."
Will was mingling with a few of the folks he'd made acquaintances with previously - President of BioGrade Pharmaceuticals, some of the Board of Directors of L'Aero Design, and a rather well-kept young blonde that he could read was in need of a little attention - and was just about to speak with the diplomat from a country he kept on thinking was named Elbonia when the cold blast struck him. His senses shot up into high gear as he could tell that some form of magic had either been used, or a spell broken. He turned just in time to see a statue he'd admired several times earlier now running away. He blinked several times as he stared at the shattered pieces on the ground that a woman in a red dress looked to be desperately escaping from. The hero known as HEROID was just standing there with a puzzled look on his face, and most guests were at least making a double-take of the woman or their drinks.
He reached out to the running woman with his mind, trying to get a sense of her mental state and stray thoughts. The first glimpses were confusing, like watching a video tape with a damaged beginning. Then, he heard voices speaking Russian. At that point he knew he was probably out of his league, as his foreign language skills were not close to fluent. He tried to keep his mind tangled around her thoughts, even as the thoughts of the guests began to beat into his head like a day on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange. Even as he did so he was walking calmly to his car and preparing for another night of adventure.
Kelp blinked and looked around a bit, confused slightly. He and Sidney had arrived at the party a while back, and decided to keep a low profile, mainly because they didn't want to be held responsible for PTab's actions. "That was kinda odd."
"Hm?" Sidney looked back towards Kelp from watching the commotion at the pedestal. "The ice and that girl? Yeah. Weird..."
Kelp shook his head. "Nah, that was the second time tonight that some guy who sounds like me kept saying stuff. Pretty rude guy, too. Sheesh."
Sidney chuckled and shook her head. "...oh, right."
Kelp looked around again. "When'd it get all icy and snowy?" He swirled one of his fingers around in the air, making it so the snow fell on as few people as possible.
"That would be when you zoned out, dear."
"...oh, er, right." He rubbed the back of his neck and wondered just what exactly was going on now.
Animation major and old-school CoHer.
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<Where am I? The trees here are all wrong...unfamiliar.>
<He doesn't seem to be chasing me.>
With that thought, Tasenka's pace slowed from a panicked run to a walk. She looked around at the ice crystals on the trees and snow barely covering the ground...both already melting away. Apparently it wasn't really winter here...wherever here was. She could still hear people talking, and there was music coming from somewhere over there. Elaborate music, like a Tsar or Boyar would sponsor...or else she had gotten lost in the land of the Katschei. Neither thought was terribly comforting, so she walked in the direction away from the crowds and music, carefully staying in the shadow of the trees, and eventually came to a wall.
The wall was tall, and of fitted stone, and had metal spikes along the top. It didn't look like anything she could climb in the festival gown. She looked around for a conveniently placed tree and didn't see one, so she began to follow the wall, looking for a way over, or through. She wished longingly for her more familiar everyday dress, or better yet, her brother's castoff hunting outfit. She knew her grandmother would flay her if she got the gown dirty or ripped it on a branch...if she ever made it back home...
The music was getting louder again. She stayed in the shadows and peered past her concealing curtain of leaves at the front of the house. She could see the orchestra, and people dancing... well, they looked like people, but if she wasn't at home in the forest near her village, then she could be anywhere, and the people dancing could be anything at all as well.
She could see a road as well, although it wasn't dirt like the one she knew. It seemed to be paved, perhaps like the ones in far away Kiev, or even Moscow? She pulled a leaf out of her braids and considered her options. She was still uncomfortable so near a Boyar or Tsar's dwelling, and she still felt...watched? The back of her neck prickled. Her experience with the high and mighty hadn't been pleasant, and she wanted distance and solitude to think and to try to figure out what had happened and how she had gotten here. However, the only way through that rather impressive wall seemed to be the gate she saw in front of her, and there were people there....well, if they were people.
She was trying to think of a way to sneak past, although she didn't think sneaking would work very well in a red festival gown, when a car drove up the driveway and stopped at the valet. She stared at the thing with the bright lights for eyes. It was on ...wheels? Those were wheels, but oddly shaped....and there were no horses or oxen pulling it. She watched the valet help a woman in a long blue velvet gown out of the thing, and then the valet climbed it to the thing and ...the thing moved again, with a sound like...like a monster roaring. Her mouth dry, she decided that she was definitely in the land of the Katschei and she had to get out.
The snow that had been melting away began to fall again...the thick white flakes obscuring vision and muffling sound...
She made her way to the gate using the shadows and the snow for cover, and then, when she thought she was close enough, she ran.
Shae Firewarder
*Back to the party! It's an open bar!*
"For th' love a... Jack and coke, partner. N' stand it up straight, it's gonna be a looooong night." The smooth ebon finish of the jacket that once adorned the Maltese Knight's shoulders sat limp across the barstool adjacent to him. Even the sparkle of the side-by-side silver bugles and slim, yet proudly etched captain's badge seemed dim in the easy, cool lighting of the mansion. Maybe the festivities of the statuary, the falling snow, the fading frost on the windows, and the sudden inexplicable chill in the air is responsible for the lackluster shine. Maybe... Or maybe it's the celebrity, the fanfare, the personalized invitations and the blatant, gut-wrenching hype. And as half melted ice cubes tinkle in the bottom of an empty glass, clinging tenaciously to their former grandeur even as the Tennessee whiskey strips them of their form, the Maltese Knight sighs deeply, pulling a calloused hand across a drawn, tired face only to push the glass once again across the bar.
"Fire me up another, hoss. This time, hold the coke."
Figure after figure, costumed juggernaut after wealthy debutante, scantily clad hostess after corrupt city leader, each one filing toward doors, windows, any position that affords a view to the suddenly changing climate. It would be romantic in a sense if not for the ever fading gleam of silver, still holding the gaze of one former Captain Joe Gage. That is, between ever growing sips of the nectar nestled within the glass walls of a prison known as a highball. Eventually a finger reaches out and runs down the badge's polished edge, pausing at the engraved arching letters that say 'PARAGON CITY FIRE DEPARTMENT', longingly, yet absently caressing the parallel depiction of twin bugles. Then, this badge rested on the chest of a man that carried it like a beacon of hope, the Lone Ranger on a twenty ton, scarlet red Silver. But now... Is this what the honor and pride is reduced to? A trinket, a bauble to wave before the awed masses of the citizenry? And even as the faded lines begin to form crystalline frost at their edges, the glass falls to the bar with a clank, a frown, and yet another request.
"Leave the bottle, hoss."
The ice bobs like buoys on rough seas as the liquor flows, this time finding solace in nearly attaining the edge of the glass. Maybe next round. And as the massive fists of the Maltese Knight surround both the black labeled bottle and its fine crystal partner, breath escaping in a visible flowing fog, the firefighter raises the glass only to pause midway to his patiently awaiting palette. A revelation of sorts, found in the bottom of Tennessee's finest. And as simple as it is, was and ever will be, it finally dawns on the man once known as Captain Joe Gage as the potables are abandoned to once again return to the chilled, yet still faded firefighter's badge. No, this party's over as far as the Maltese Knight is concerned. There is work to be done and it doesn't involve shaking hands, drinking whiskey and scratching your head at the sudden change in the weather. It involves doing one's duty, standing as one of the many that are the embodiment of what that dim piece of silver stands for. It stands for Paragon City's frontline, the army of her own that stands against the worst of odds with no magic, machine gun or mutation to aid them. Just a hoseline and courage unchecked.
Standing up and slipping his dress uniform coat around the herculean width of a chest and shoulders, he smiles, popping the seams and smoothing his hands down the lapels. Tip money thrown to the satin sheen of the bar surface with nary a glance, Captain Joe Gage moves toward the door, the remnants of the crowd thinning before him as if Moses himself parted them. No, parties, crowds, heroic adolation and worship has no quarter in regards to duty. And with that in mind he takes his leave, letting the abnormally cool night air snap the whiskey induced numbness from his lips as his smile grows even wider.
Silver has never shined so bright...
The old man arrived just as his old friend was leaving. Fashionably late, of course.
He quirks a brow as he thinks he sees the bulk of a man.
"Maltese? Is that you?" he runs to catch up to the man retreating from the very place he was about to enter.
"I had no idea you were going to this thing. I would have brought some of that whisky from 1783."
He looks towards the gala, and back towards his friend, "Is it any good in there? Or did I get my splendid suit tailored for absolutely nothing?"
Alex fumed, but he did so quietly. He reigned in his fury till it only barely showed in the icy coldness of his eyes, and let Brianna suggest a diversion. He thought about it, and though it was not perhaps what people might expect at a formal party, it appealed to him in a way. What was the use of a birthday party if you couldn't have a little rowdy fun planned?
And it would explain the snow away.
Brianna left to go arrange things, and he watched her go.
He detailed a couple security to investigate the statue's disappearance, and then clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.
"In the honor of the beginning of hockey season, and in honor of the birthday that brings you all here," He smiled charmingly, "I have something special planned for your pleasure. Let us all move over to the lake, which is at this moment..."
He looked in the direction of the small lake, just big enough for what was planned, and noticed that Brianna had somehow already managed to find a few people with ice powers to freeze the surface. Brianna appeared from the house with two piles of folded fabric, one white, the other bright red...He thought he recognised the extra tablecloths and reminded himself he needed to tip the caterer well tonight. Brianna came over to his side and whispered to him. Then she stood next to him, smiling, and flipped her golden hair. Alex recognised the move as artifice, and yet, he had to admit it worked very well.
Alexandre continued, begining to think her plan might actually work, "Which at this moment is being frozen over for a game of Broomball...We have colors for the two teams, which we will call the Galaxy Stars, and the Atlas Archers....."
--------------
Meanwhile...
Tasenka had managed to get out the gate and out of sight, she hoped, but she still didn't know where she was. She had seen a couple of those things with lights for eyes and had stepped into the shadows at the edge of the road as they passed, hoping that they would not bother her, and they hadn't. However, she had forgotten about the more mundane dangers that even a tame forest at the edge of a Boyar's garden might have...
The bandits stepped out of the shadows. They were well armed. They had bows, and she could see the gleam off the edge of the axe that the largest of them carried.
Shae Firewarder
Second Sighted emerged from the convertible parked just down the street from the party, clad in his less-than-magical spandex garb he'd procured when he first started his career. He reached out with his mind as he leaned against the car, searching for any mind that wasn't guarded against his "mental massage". He typically was not as forceful as this but seeing as how a statue had pretty much come to life and darted out into the dark he decided that the time for subtlety was in the past.
His mind danced across the minds of police walking their beat, mothers taking care of their children, the monorail operators, a homeless person or two... and then he caught a hint of her. Malevolent minds had found a woman. Such cretins rarely guarded their thoughts, which were seldom of a pleasant variety. One of them was already mulling what disgusting things he could do, while another simply wondered how much money she carried. With little time to spare, he cast his mind along the path of thought and projected his body in her direction. For brief moments he'd pop back into reality before plunging back into his mind and out of astral space. He hoped he wouldn't be late.
Beatrice was going to have to talk to Serge about the cape. It flowed wonderfully, and the colors were splendid... but somewhere along the line he and she had forgotten to make it flight-friendly. As it was, it was flapping around her feet and generally being a nuisance. Ah well. At least the catsuit wasn't a problem... although the generous slits down the legs were making things a bit chilly.
But that wasn't her main concern. She was well familiar with the gangs in the area, and how... predatory... they would be with civilians or even underpowered heroes. A young girl would be easy pickings. She slowed to a hover and looked around...
There! By the alley. The poor girl had run across five of the ones known as Warriors. They were good fighters, and tough. But perhaps... she hovered in closer.
"Hey baby... you look like the type who'd enjoy a good carouse with a guy like me, eh?" Funny how they always went for the intimidation first. If he'd clean himself up and put the axe away, and try being NICE, he might actually be worth an evening or two. But this way... well a thug was a thug. And THIS thug wasn't gonna get what he wanted.
She encased him in a tesla field, which stood him bolt upgright, twitching, as the electrical currents rapidly wore his muscles out. His friends backed up a step, then unlimbered their bows.
"Back off, b*tch, all we want is the girl!"
"But boys... this date has a chaperone along. Which means you have to behave yourselves!" With that she unleashed a series of electrical bolts that hit the lead archer just as he was pulling the string back on his bow. The convulsion knocked off his aim and the arrow went wide.
< Come ON, girl, don't just stand there! Back up, find a place to hide! > Ohm couldn't understand why she just stood there, cowering in fear.
At this point the man with the axe had managed to shake off the effects of the fading tesla field. "Alright, lady, you asked for a fight, you got it!" He charged towards Ohm, who had decided to land on the street so she didn't have to concentrate on flying and shooting.
"Ah ah. Stand BEHIND the yellow safety line, the third rail is live and can be dangerous." She used two of her capacitors to set up a field around her, that sent bolts arcing off of mailboxes, stop signs, street poles, anything metal within a 10' radius. As soon as the axe got close enough, it too drew arcs, causing the thug to twitch and spasm.
"Gonna take a bit more than that to put me down."
<Whups. The others are still awake, and they're disciplined... letting me waste energy on this one while they use me as target practice.>
"I'll get to you in a sec, hon. But first, your buddies need some power too." A compact ball of lightning went sailing down the alley, knocking out two thugs and disorienting one more. It was followed by a sizzling arc of electricity that dropped another archer. The remaining bowman decided he'd had enough and ran.
"Looks like it's just you and me, now. Dance?"
"Sure." Out came the axe, and WHAM! Ohm sailed backwards. That HURT! She felt blood on her ribs. OK. Distance. We need distance.
"Not nice to hit a lady so."
"You ain't no lady. And I ain't nice either." Another swing, this one missing her by an inch.
She backpedaled, and unloaded both of her capacitor gauntlets at him, point blank. He staggered, severely weakened, but he was still standing. He tried to raise the axe, but his arm lacked the strength for a decent swing.
"What you done to me, freak? Gonna... gonna nail you to the wall... gonna... "
She blasted him again. This time, his knees buckled, and he dropped, out cold.
Beatrice turned to where the girl standing, staring at her wide-eyed. She spoke several words in what Bea assumed was Russian, all the while backing up against a nearby wall.
"It's ok. Don't run. Please." <please don't run away, I can't be fighting off every Warrior in the area... just stay put!> Ohm staggered, and the pain of her injuries hit her full force. She dropped to one knee, and groaned. Using her cape as an ersatz bandage, she tried to staunch the bleeding.
Serge was gonna kill her for this.
"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."
Welcome to the PCFD, Joe. Remember when you swore your oath of service? Watched your old man in the third row actually tear up a bit when Chief pinned your badge on your chest for the first time? The mindbending drunk you tied on afterwards at the party, the first run you made, the first fire, first cardiac save, first time in the seat? Yes you do, Jody Boy. Yes you do, and that's why you're here. Don't ever forget that. It's what pulls you through the tight spots when your muscles, guts and that damn stubborn head a' yours ain't enough.
And as the crisp chill ruddies a hardened, chiseled jawline and high, defined cheekbones, the Maltese Knight looks to the Paragon City skyline, barely discernable through the sickly shimmer of the warwalls. Almost as if on cue, the faint warble of a federal windup siren catches the currents of rapidly cooling air, drifting its way to trained, patiently waiting ears. Yeah, Joe. You heard it. Punch the clock and let these folks have their party. Let these folks drink it up and chase dreams of handshakes and political influence. Collars of blue make it all happen beneath the gleam and polish... And yours is as blue as the daylight sky.
The familiar voice stops him though, even as the class A dress uniform jacket once again slides from his shoulders. A navy blue uniform ballcap finding its way from a pocket to his awaiting crown sits comfortably as he turns to address it, finding the eternal eyes of one Juan Ramirez and his quips on whiskey almost as old as the nation herself. Timing at its finest...
"Ramirez, you dirty ol' <BLEEP>. You shine up like a brand new penny." Hands deftly course down the front of the uniform shirt, releasing buttons with nearly a blur of motion as he finally wiggles free. Taking a split second to assess the finished product, white undershirt, ballcap, black, pressed slacks, uniform spit and polish complete with just a touch of redneck. It will simply have to do. And with one last touch, removing the eyecatching silver badge with flip of a clasp, the Maltese Knight stuffs it in his pocket, pitching the coat and button up shirt toward his long time friend and compatriot.
"Hold this crap for me, Juan. That is, unless you'd rather saddle up instead a' dancin' with a bunch a' jerks wit' starched underwear and forty pound stock portfolios. I heard th' boys at seventeens go out... And with th' damn Rikti makin' a press out here, we can't leave 'em by their lonesome."
"Yer hootch is just gonna have to wait, my friend."
Tasenka tensed as the man with the axe called out to her. She didn't understand the words, but she didn't need to. She knew the stories, and knew what they wanted. If she could get away, maybe she would not die here and become one of the Rusalka.
Suddenly a bright blue-white flash split the darkness and the bandit with the axe was suddenly encased in lightning and twitching. His friends were pulling back their bows and yelling something at a figure in the air above her. The figure, a woman it seemed, yelled something back at them and unleashed more lightning at the archers. Tasenka cowered out of the way near the wall, hoping that none of the lightning would strike her.
The snow began to fall again, blowing in on a sudden wind. The cold slowed the muscles of the archers, and a few bolts shot wide. The woman landed and continued to fling bolts of lightning at the bandits until they were all either prone in the thin layer of fresh snow or running...except for the one with the axe. That one swung his gleaming axe at the woman and flung her back with the force of it. He closed again, trying to finish her, but the woman barely dodged out of the way and blasted him with an incredible bolt of lightning. Tasenka's ears rang, and she was blinded for a minute. When she could see again, the woman was standing, and the axe wielding bandit was not.
The snow stopped.
"Who are you?....Where is this place?" Tasenka asked, but the woman didn't seem to understand her.
The woman said something that she didn't understand...but it didn't sound threatening, and then she half collapsed. Tasenka was suddenly reminded of the axe wound, but she didn't have any bandages to staunch the woman's bleeding.
She wanted to help, and somehow she smelled the fresh snowy scent of the winter back home, and felt something, a gust of air? Flow through her to the woman...
((Note, not knowing Russian myself, I attempted to use babelfish. It gave me something in the Russian characters and I had no idea how well it translated it, but I was planning on using it anyhow....untill I saw how the board here treated the characters. Haha. Sooooo....Pretend that what she says is in Russian, da? ))
((Further note....if you actually do know Russian, I could use a little help. =) ))
Shae Firewarder
((Just gotta interrupt for a minute here and say: This is some great stuff, Shae. 
))
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((Just gotta interrupt for a minute here and say: This is some great stuff, Shae. ))
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All OOC:
<blushes>
I think that the community and the writers on Virtue are the whole reason this is possible to do here. All I did was toss the ball out there, and nudge it occasionally. You all are making the game happen.
Every time I see a post on this....you have no idea how happy I have been since I sent the invites.
Shae Firewarder
Woosh! PTab swoops into the party, smacking face-first into a wall. He wobbles, and floats up slightly, then lands in on a tray that one of the waiters is carrying, crushing all the food on it with his feet. Then he sits down on it.
People stare for a moment at the tiny childlike android, in a full white tuxedo, which is a few sizes too big for him, as he sits there on the tray for a minute. Then he hops down and runs giggling through the courtyard, looking for something interesting. Oddly, this ends up being a large man's shoe, rather than something truely interesting. He hugs it. And licks it. And is stared at some more.
((Post for Kelp and Sidney coming as soon as I get a hold of her to collaborate on it. :P))
Animation major and old-school CoHer.
Art, Animation, and Stuff:
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